#reminder that there's 3 more slots left for a free reading until this closes for a while !!

[ladyimaginarium]

Free New Year reading for @cripp-tid !! 1 / 4 !!

From left to right: The Hierophant, The Star, The Lovers, Strength, The Tower, The King Of Cups, The Fool & Six Of Pentacles!!

The Hierophant: Immediately when I& look at this card & when I'm& getting a feeling for & tuning into your energy, you may be dipping your toes into your masculine energy, whether that's purely on energy alone ( as everyone has masculine energy inside of them, regardless of gender, sex or orientation ) or experimenting with your gender expression. The Hierophant usually refers to tradition, it could also represent faith or religion. A paternal figure, whether it's your actual father, or an uncle or a grandfather or a male relative like a brother or male cousin or.. maybe even a religious figure or maybe even a masculine deity that you're currently working with or will end up working with ( it doesn't necessarily have to be a man, anyone can possess masculine energy regardless of gender, sex or orientation ! ), may be significant to you. Maybe you could be converting to a different religion or if you're already in a religion, you could be connecting more to that faith. Alternatively, you could be fighting against a more traditional viewpoint in your family or local surrounding area whether that means literal or through subtle means. You could be raising awareness about an issue that many don't know about. I& usually don't get this type of energy coming from The Hierophant, but you could be getting more into activism. This is a really weird vibe I'm& getting and this is completely random because I& usually don't get this kind of energy around this card, but if you're going to a protest this year irl, be careful & follow the rules of the protest and make sure to keep yourself and others safe and also wear a mask. obviously. The number 5 or the 5th of a month could be significant to you, something may happen to you in 5 days. You could be expecting something to happen in 5 days or 5 months. Taurus rules this card, so it may be significant, you could have Taurus placements or someone else that's important to you may have those placements, something could be happening in Taurus season ( April 20th-May 20th ). This is an upright card, so I& think this is a good sign for you for the time being. Good luck w/ everything !!

The Star: This appeared in the 2024 collective reading, too, so it's really nice to see it again here for you !! I& feel like especially in the start of the year, you're going to feel more hopeful, a new opportunity may be coming towards you. I'm& not exactly sure of what exactly this is, but if you feel like it'll be a good opportunity, seize it, don't let your mind make a bajillion excuses !! Aquarius rules this card so Aquarius may be significant to you, whether you have it in your natal chart or someone else that may be significant to you might have those placements or something could be happening in Aquarius season ( January 20th-February 18th ) which actually isn't that far away at all, it starts in, like, two weeks from now. The number 17 could be significant or the 17th of a month may be significant; something could be happening in 17 days. This is random but I'm& getting that literal stars may be significant. You could be getting into astrology or studying space. This is extremely random and I& usually don't get messages like this when it comes to this card but since y'all are a system, I'm& getting a message to let your littles play when they come to front. You could be revealing more of your true colors you may have been hiding to please other people, but you're the star here !! I mean.. we're all in this together once we know we're all stars !! /ref but I feel like you'll have the courage to do more of what you want to do regardless of what other people say or think & y'know what GOOD FOR Y'ALL !!

The Lovers: Something big in your love life may be happening considering this card is upright, you could be spending more time with a partner if you have any which I& think is really sweet !! Apples may be significant to you.. I'm& also getting a hit of "Eat your apples!" so.. I& honestly have no idea where that came from, all I& know is that after I& received this message, I& internally felt a fuzzy feeling so I'm& presuming that could be a spirit guide or an ancestor of yours because those messages do come in at times whenever I& channel messages. Apple pie or an otherwise apple related dish could be significant. The number 6 could be significant to you. Gemini rules The Lovers so that could be significant to you, whether you have those placements or someone else who's important to you does. Gemini season ( May 21st-June 21st ) in the late spring to early summer could be significant. Honestly, this one seems more on the nose in comparison to most other cards listed here, so if this applies to you, especially if already you're with someone romantically, I'm& really happy for y'all and wish y'all the best in the romantic department !!

Strength: oh boy. i& don't mean to say that you'll be one of god's strongest soldiers in the year 2024 but i& feel like at some point this year you're gonna have to be resilient. you're gonna have to try to be chill & have compassion for yourself bc someone may be testing your patience. I'm getting a random hit that if someone deserves it and someone's been bothering you for a while, you're gonna have to tell them the truth straight up no bars held back no tea no shade no pink lemonade. You could also be more proud in who you are as a person. This card seems on the nose, too, honestly. Leo rules Strength so Leo could be significant, whether you have those placements or someone who's important has those placements, Leo Season ( July 23rd-August 22nd ) could be significant. I'm& taking a more literal interpretation here as well but maybe a Black man could be significant. Lions, maybe lion symbolism could also be significant to you. With that said, I& think it's a pretty straightforward message. Good luck w/ whatever this is !!

The Tower: okay so. i don't mean to stress you out or scare you bc I know a lot of people get all nervous when The Tower pops out in the upright position, but i& have to be honest here, and i don't like to sugarcoat my readings because it'll lessen the accuracy of my readings and it'll only harm you further. i& tell what i& see as i& receive the messages from your spread, and i& don't control what comes through or what messages meant for you to hear so, like, don't shoot the messenger. tarot doesn't always tell us what we want to hear, but rather what we need to hear. so. the tower means unexpected change or chaos, but it's a change that's meant to happen. I'm& not exactly sure what exactly this is, I& genuinely have no idea what this could be, but something will happen and it may shock you or alternatively you may be expecting it, but whatever is falling apart is meant to create a stronger foundation. It's kinda like building lego blocks. If the lego block tower is unsteady and built on an unsteady foundation, it's gonna fall, but you can always make a stronger tower afterward !! Y'feel me?? I& may be delving into sensitive territory here but The Tower can also represent trauma. Maybe you're dealing with something traumatic right now or maybe you think of a past trauma that already happened, I'm& getting a brief ache near my& right temple atm and whenever that happens, that can represent confirmation, and if that's the case, I'm& really sorry. Regardless of what it is, make sure to have a network of friends or if you have a partner, talk to them about it, and if necessary and if you have the means to do so, seek help. The number 16 or the 16th of a month may be significant. Scorpio and Aries may be significant, whether you or someone you know has those placements, Scorpio season ( October 23rd-November 21st ) and Aries season ( March 21st-April 19th ) could also be significant. Whatever the case is, whether it's something that's going to happen, is happening or has already happened, we really wish you well and all the best, things will get better.

The King Of Cups: This is a much more lighthearted card in comparison to the previous two !! You could be more emotionally stable and available. A male or otherwise masculine presence who's comforting may be significant to you. This is hyper specific but the deity Poseidon may be significant to you or someone else in your system. This could possibly represent a protector or a caretaker in your system but I'm& leaving that for y'all to decide. You could be creating more, whether that's art or creating music playlists. You could be learning to balance both your mind and your emotions more. If you're in a relationship, you may end up being a compassionate rock to your partner or your family or friends and someone they can rely on. If you're in a romantic relationship, your partner could be asking you out on a date so you can spend time together. The Cups are represented by water so water itself may be significant, and the Water signs - Cancer, Scorpio and Pisces could resonate, as well.

The Fool: no, tarot isn't calling u booboo the fool. lmao. The Fool represents jumping into a brand new beginning even if you have no idea what's gonna happen on the other side. The number 0 could be significant. you may be really excited that something's gonna happen, maybe you're anticipating waiting for something or someone. You could be trying a new hobby or class. i& have. no idea why i'm& getting this but i'm& getting "check your email". whatever that's supposed to mean, ehehe. Pisces rules The Fool so could whether you have those placements or someone else you know does, or Pisces Season ( February 19th-March 20th ) may be significant, don't be afraid to jump into something new, you never know what you'll find !!

Six Of Pentacles: WHEW last one in this spread !! The Six of Pentacles in the upright represents generosity & charity & supporting others, it can also represent community, so you may be helping someone in need or alternatively someone could be helping you when you need it and you could be receiving that aid so don't refuse it because of pride or you feel you're not worthy of it bc you do !! You could be more involved in helping a community whether it's financially materially or spreading the word. It's also about giving and taking and the balance between the two. You could be in a good position when it comes to your finances so I& say make sure to stick w/ that & to give generously if you can while keeping enough for yourself. You could possibly be going to school or start a new business venture but only take that if that resonates! Earth represents the Pentacles so Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn, whether you or anyone else you know has any of these placements, or their seasons ( Taurus Season being April 10th to May 20th, Virgo Season being August 23rd-September 22nd and Capricorn Season being December 21st-January 20th next year ) may be significant. With that said, this seems like a really great way to end your reading!!

Shufflemancy Song: Sun Bleached Flies — Ethel Cain & The Other Side — Bruno Mars, B.O.B & CeeLo Green.

Additional Notes: I& only did these for you, Roan, but some of this could apply to your overall system as a whole !! You may have a rough patch this year if The Tower is anything to indicate, but I& think you could bounce back just fine, just allow yourself to feel things and don't bottle it all up !! Undoubtedly with every year there's always gonna be ups and downs but for the most part it does seem like things may be going good for y'all !! If any of this resonates with you, you can reblog it & add it in the tags or comment how it resonates, I'm curious to see how this resonated with you !!

Disclaimer: take what resonates & leave the rest, keep in mind that energy and outcomes can always change & nothing is forever set in stone, you have free will in every choice you make !! as a general message: my readings are for entertainment purposes only and don't replace professional medical/legal/business help. feedback and a review after a reading is given, whether public or private, is obligatory. you can do that by reblogging ( only if the reading was made for you specifically ), dming or emailing us privately on the matter. if you do not provide this, you will be added to my greylist and won't be given anymore readings, free or paid, until you give feedback.

decks used: Killstar ( or as we& call it, Memento Mori ) tarot, & GANGSTA. tarot.

[timextoxhajima]

Nevertheless: Wishful Thinking [1]

[completed] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

synopsis: why would the college flirt want anything to do with the innocent heartbreaker? a [somewhat] nevertheless au featuring tbz's eric son young jae

genre [per chapter]: suggestive material, mentions of alcohol, SMUT *this series is a smut series so* please don't read if you're uncomfy. if you're underaged and you still wanna read, i'm not stopping you. i don't care because that's your responsibility to know what's fiction and what's not.

word count: 2.8k, half of which is probably filth

taglist: @from-xero

{this is a work of fiction}

"i'm sorry, i just... i just don't see you that way."

the boy tries his hardest not to choke (or sob) as he lowers his head, the bouquet of flowers in his hands crinkling when he brings it down to his side.

he huffs, using his tongue to poke the inner sides of his cheeks as his grimace pulls out into a smirk.

you look at him with utmost guilt, fingers awkwardly intertwined with one another as you scan the distraught on his face.

"so..." he slowly nods, looking up from the floor. "not even the most popular person on campus can win you over, huh?"

the label strikes a chord in you.

honestly, you were just waiting for him to say those words. you hadn't expected the campus star boy to confess to you tonight, much less at his own graduation party.

he was two years your senior and frankly way out of your league - leaving you with absolutely no clue how he came about to develop feelings for you.

you had wondered if he was merely capitalising on your growing reputation as the 'innocent heartbreaker'.

the pretty, new, freshman who just couldn't seem to stop heads from turning.

one of those heads was his.

wooseok scoffs, obviously unhappy and dissatisfied with your response.

how dare the pretty freshman reject the hottest boy on campus?

"okay," wooseok nods, still holding out the flowers to you. "at least take the flowers, would you?"

grimly picking the golden-wrapped roses from him, you scan his eyes, glossed with a layer of tears as his nose sours.

"wooseok-"

"no, don't," he interrupts you, sucking in a deep breath as he puffs out his chest. the yelling from outside his bedroom door calls the both of your attention.

"the party's still going on until morning, are you staying?"

with a light shake of your head, you hug the flowers close to your chest. your heart slows down, calming from the fact that he had brought you in here just to confess and not something else you were afraid of.

the guilt sinks in when you realise you didn't trust wooseok all that much.

"okay, well..." he clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. the silver shine off the school's logo on the varsity jacket glimmers under the room's ceiling light. "at least stay until we finish the first bottle of vodka? we have games later."

"oh, wooseok, i can't-"

"come on," he reaches forward and grabs your hands, his hands hot and warm. probably from the adrenaline he had to give himself to make this feat. "the first bottle."

you look up from his fingers and at his face, his fringe covering his eyes and casting sharp-angled shadows all over his lids.

your lips part, but before you can even utter a sound, he hops right in and exclaims with a grin on his face. "great! i'll see you around and come find me when you're leaving, okay?"

the smile lines extend from the sides of his nose and down to his lips, the shadow lines on his cheeks shifting as he turns on his heels, hands sliding off yours.

"i'll-" he points to his door, already reaching for the handle. "yeah. bye."

wooseok pulls the door open for him to exit, and right before he can shut the door behind him, his eyes come between the gap to take one last look at you.

the door clicks shut after he moves off first, and you're left with the roses in your arms, standing in the middle of his room, having just rejected the most sought-after bachelor in the school.

looking down at the roses once more, your finger-pads rub against the velvet petals, heart aching for him.

the neon lights in his room were casting a bright blue hue all over the walls and the carpeted ground, trophies for baseball and customised bats decorating almost every corner.

you turn to his bed, thinking of leaving the flowers on the cushion and leaving quietly through his window.

but your train of thought violently snapped into two when the party outside yells, followed by the loud thunking of the bass throughout the house.

the flowers are a reminder of how shit of a person you are.

you didn't ask to be a heartbreaker.

people tend to think you find joy in rejecting the brave ones who get their feelings across but you don't. not at all.

carefully laying the bouquet of flowers back onto his bed, you pull the door of his room open and step out into the hallway, the music blasting like everyone was deaf and hard of hearing.

the crowd in the living room comes into view when you start walking down the stairs - everybody jumping on beat to the likes of superbass and people yelling the all-time classic rap.

your knuckles whiten from gripping onto the wooden railings, unable to return yourself to the party when you've done broken the heart of the host himself.

so you turn on your heels, deciding to return to his room and crawl out through his window - only to be met by someone else.

"party's downstairs."

if you were the innocent heartbreaker...

then eric son was the vicious one - the male, sluttier equivalent of you.

"oh, well... party's not for me," you offer a tiny smile, slightly embarrassed to be caught making a u-turn.

eric tilts his head to the side, holding out an arm and resting it on the wooden railings. you lower your head, taking a step to your left in a bid to walk past him.

but you're stopped yet again by his arm reaching out, palm pressing flat into the concrete as he looks down at you.

you don't realise your fists are clenched (and sweating) until you rub them onto your dress.

"look, eric- i- i had a bad day and i just-"

"so walk out the front door," he raises a single brow, taking a step down and removing his hand off the wooden railing.

your feet fumble around each other in a bid not to topple down the stairs. turning to face you, he forces you to step back to maintain the safe distance between you.

"i don't want to make a scene-" the bad habit of picking your nails returns when your back hits the wall, and eric's standing an uncomfortable distance from you now.

"oh," he lifts his free hand and mirrors the other, keeping your neck between his forearms. but you are the scene. you can't just... leave."

a flustered chuckle runs through your throat as you lean your head back against the wall. "i don't have the time for this."

"make time for me," eric cocks his head to the side and glances down near the bottom of your face. "you can tell me about your bad day."

"i think i'll be fine on my own, thank you," carefully squatting and trying to shrink out from the wall-eric sandwich, your brows furrow as you shift.

but eric son buckles his arm and halves the distance he has between your faces, the sudden surge forcing you back upright.

now his breath is hot on your jaw and you turn away from him, lips pursed into a thin, tight line.

"the 'innocent heartbreaker'," he gently hums, fingers reaching up to play with the curled locks fallen around your upper arms. the fleeting brushes of his skin across yours draw out chills, and a harsh inhale twitches your facial expressions to his liking. "i can see why boys would fall for this."

with your eyes still glued to the party downstairs, you part your lips, wanting to explain yourself.

then eric, with the weight of feathers, reaches up to your chin and tilts it towards him.

his lips are parted as he slides his tongue across his teeth. he sighs softly, eyes travelling from yours to your lips and back up.

by now, you can feel his breath on your philtrum.

"you're pretty," he whispers, almost against your lips.

and your stomach plummets when he pulls away completely, the cool air rushing in to replace the bodily heat.

without breaking eye contact, even for a single second, eric pushes himself off the wall. lips drawn out into a wide smile, he adjusts his jacket and runs his hand through his hair.

"but not that pretty."

you don't realise your heart's racing until you feel your chest heaving, unknowingly panting from the unruly interaction the vicious heartbreaker has just provided you.

the world finally seeps back into view and into complete perfect audio, the music finally rumbling through you again when your eyes trail after eric, walking into the crowd jumping in the living room.

the taste of iron seeps out from the inside of your lips, and you dart your tongue across the mark that your teeth have left on your flesh.

clearing your throat and shaking the thought of eric out of your head, you turn back up the steps and head back into wooseok's bedroom.

the blue hues of the room start to sink into your consciousness again, the yellow shade of the bouquet wrap looking more like green under the lighting.

you take a moment to fester - over wooseok, over your reputation, over eric.

college just started and here you were, feeling guilty over something that wasn't even your fault.

the final decision comes to rest on your fingers in the form of pulling wooseok's window open, carefully lifting your feet and crawling under the glass.

now, troublemaker was playing, muffled but definitely loud enough to be heard at least 3 houses down the road. you climb onto the roof of his garage, eyes scanning to cars parked outside and along the road.

you stride to the side where you know wooseok had a wooden plating attached to one of the walls, fake vines intertwined between the planks.

it's a relief when your feet meet the concrete ground, and nobody was in sight - until you back up into someone's chest and you turn to find eric, again.

"what in the world-"

he cuts you off by grabbing your waist, slotting his lips between yours and holding your chin to align your faces.

you were nearly bought into it, but the consciousness seeps back into you and you rip your face off his, palms one his chest with his hands still on your waist.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"i could ask you the same thing."

"you already know I'm leaving."

"you can't leave just yet."

"why the hell not?"

"because I'm not done with you."

with a low huff, he hoists you up onto his hips, lips crashing onto yours as he walks you backwards, your shoulder blades hitting the wall where you had climbed down from.

there's a gentle rattle when he keeps you up against the wooden planks, his palms riding the skirt of your dress up and over your hips.

his fingers slide under the material of your underwear hugging your pelvis, hot skin gripping onto the flesh of your rear.

then you hear a tear amongst the mess he's making on your lips, and the material of your underwear loosens.

"what the-"

"shh," he smirks, now turning his head into your neck to nip on your jaw. your chest heaves from the sensitivity, the fluttering sensation of his lips on your neck drilling chills all through you. "make a sound and everyone will know you couldn't say no to me."

conscience returns to you for a split second.

"eric- we can't-"

before you can finish your sentence, eric drags the thin material out from under you and dangles it before you, his eyes clouded and dark.

the darkened patch of material on your underwear washes your face in pink and heat.

"you were saying?"

your stomach plummets, and you now register the coolness on your core. eric smiles, rolling up the material to shove it into his pocket.

"eric-" your fingers dig into his left forearm as they return to the wall by your head, his right carefully undoing his belt.

the clink of the metal followed by the zipper coming undone forms a knot in your stomach already, then his fingers coming to spread your neediness all over you forces a sharp whimper up your lungs.

"I've done nothing..." he shakes his head, sliding a single finger up and down your core. "and you are so wet."

he lifts his finger from under your skirt, his fingers glistening under the sharp, fluorescent lighting.

your hooded lids are just about tearing with the overwhelming ache that's throbbing through you, and he makes it worse by running his tongue all over his finger.

eric's pride swells when a whine escapes your throat, and he presses himself into you, chest against yours with his hands digging into your thighs. your arms circle around his shoulders, pulling him closer for a deep, slow kiss.

he prods against you, the throbbing ache spiking when his manhood rubs against your core. groaning into the kiss, your entire being squirms between him and the wall with the muffled music still blasting from the living room.

he doesn't bother to wait for you before he finds his manhood and aligns it with your entrance, gently prodding before sliding himself in like it was meant to be.

he buries himself inside you by holding your thighs around his hips even tighter, drawing a low and prolonged moan from your lips.

eric pulls away, pressing his forehead into yours to let you breathe. but he finds some kind of sadistic pleasure when he pulls his hips away, only to slam right back in, earning a sharp yelp from you.

"go any louder, princess, and i won't be the only one enjoying this."

he grins to himself, licking his lips before diving into your neck and picking at all the right spots. every kiss and nibble earned him a moan or a mewl and it ruins your pride over and over to know that you had just broken someone's heart tonight.

yet you were outside that someone's house, letting eric rail you like he owned you.

your fingers claw and grip at his shirt as you feel your back jerk and rock against the wooden plank. with every thrust he offers you, he sounds like he's laughing and panting at the same time, the hot breath on your neck making you writhe in a guilty pleasure.

he offers a few slower thrusts before grabbing your chin to look at him, eyes slightly fucked out and your thighs tired from keeping your body locked to his.

slowly pulling out and sliding back in, he takes the time to revel in the way your brows furrow and your lips fall apart, your curled hair now a mess around your chest and shoulders.

"that's it, princess," he leans into your ear and coos. "tell me how good that feels."

unable to form a coherent word in your head, you whine in response, pulling his face to yours and planting your lips onto his with every ounce of energy left in you.

his hands fumble under your skirt and find your sensitivity, pressing his thumb flat onto you. the pressure jerks you upwards and he takes the opportunity to reposition himself, changing the angle ever so slightly.

by some miracle, the tip of him buried inside you finds the magic spot, and when he picks up his pace, the knot starts to find you in eternal bliss.

eric pulls away again, huffing as he thrusts himself into you, fingers flicking and abusing you as if your legs weren't already shaking and convulsing around his hips.

"good girl," his breath is heavy on your jaw as he plants a few wet kisses there, his pants bringing you to some newer heights. your vision starts to fade into white with a few more thrusts and his fingers dig into your thighs when your lower body starts to spasm.

muscles flexing, your entire body squirms and trembles as you meet your high.

then eric hurriedly pulls out, the hot fluid dribbling all over the ground under you.

while you come down from your high, eric's strained grunts rumble through his torso under your arms. the vein that popped out on his neck was still there, and your senses only allow enough for you to focus on eric now.

he bites on his bottom lip and pushes his hair back with a deep inhale. he turns to you, eyes wide open and clear.

"not such an innocent princess now, are you?"

[heliotropehotch]

Silver - a.h. x fem!reader

Request by @moonstuffsteve :If you’re taking requests, I’d love Hotch smut with a wedding ring kink where the cold metal gets you more worked up (maybe ft choking bc of the ring??) pls and thanks so much!!!!!!!!

a/n: AHHHH its my first smut for Aaron! (and first smut i've actually finished in years!) Al, i love you. Thank you for this. If you have any suggestions on how I can improve my writing please let me know! I haven't written smut in a long time so I know this might be rocky. <3

CW: smut, under 18 DNI, 18+, jealously, unwanted ass grabbing, wanted ass grabbing, choking, wedding ring kink?????, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), rough sex, marriage kink??, dom/sub themes, possessiveness, fingering

Masterlist

author: abby<3

word count: 1919

have fun!

She hated cops. Entitled, jealous, and, for the most part, disgusting men, who thought well enough should be left alone. Meaning that, while help had been offered and given, it wasn’t wanted. What was wanted, however, seemed to deviate way too far off the course of the case, of the literal murders that were happening.

“Officer Walker,” Y/N’s teeth gritted out as sweetly as she could, as the man placed an unwelcome palm on the small of her back. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Well, sugar,” he chuckled deeply. “I was hoping you wanted to get out of here.”

“Out of here?” She pretended not to notice Agent Hotchner watching the interaction, slowing walking up behind him. “What do you mean, Officer?”

“I mean,” his hand swooped down, resting gently on her ass. Y/N’s eyes shot wide, mouth opening slightly with appall. “We should get out of here so we can have a little fun.”

“Excuse me-”

“Officer Walker,” Aaron Hotchner’s voice cut through the air of the precinct. “I suggest you take your hand off of my agent, and my wife.”

Walker’s hand shot off her body, smacking into his own side. “Your wife? Sir, I didn’t kn-”

“We have a case, Officer. There are people out there getting murdered. Get back to work. Agent, you’re needed in the conference room, please.”

“Yes sir,” Y/N said with a straight face, but she knew her husband could read the smugness on her face.

“In the future, Officer Walker,” she called out before following Aaron. “At least check a woman’s hand before you make unwanted passes at them.”

Y/N sauntered almost cheerfully behind her husband stalking into the closed conference room. She could hear the gears turning forcefully in his head, and could clearly see his hand clenching and relaxing at his side. Entering the conference room, tension seeping into the air, confining itself in the room as Aaron forcefully shut the door behind them.

“Aaron-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, fingers smoothing out his eyebrows. “I was fine until his moved his fucking hand-”

She reached out to grab his arms, trailing down to intertwine their fingers together. ��Honey,” she smiled sweetly. “I know, okay. I appreciate it, okay. But I had it handled too.”

“I should have him fired-”

“But you won’t,” she laughed softly. “If you fired every man who made a pass at me, we wouldn’t ever work with cops again.”

He grumbled indignantly, scrunching his eyes together in irritation. Y/N slipped her hands up his chest, sliding into their natural place at his jaw. Her lips pressed to his, seeping tension seeping out of him with every passing second. “Aaron,” she hummed against his lips, before pulling away. She smiled as his chased after. “I married you, remember? You don’t ever have to worry about anyone else. Like ever?”

He chuckled, slipping his hands into the pockets of her pants. “I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.”

“I’m only yours.” She smiled at him, taking a step back. “Now can we get back to work? I wanna go home with you as soon as possible.”

--

The case was nowhere near close to being solved, but tensions between all members of the BAU were running high. Derek, the ever hot head he was, had almost gotten into a physical fight with the Captain of the precinct, while Spencer had remained silent after a particularly loud conversation with one of the fellow officers.

“These cops just won’t let us do our jobs, Hotch,” Emily had groaned in the hotel elevator with Y/N and Aaron. “I’m two derogatory comments away from breaking Walker’s nose.”

Y/N snorted, eying her husband’s now tense back in front of her. “He’s a real piece of work huh?”

“I’ll be too glad when we get out of here. Why can’t we work with female cops for a change?”

It was Hotch’s turn to snort. “You would end up being the one that they complained about. You’re just as bad as Morgan.”

Emily gave an artificial gasp. “Am not.”

The elevator doors opened, and Y/N followed her husband out and down the hall to the left. “Night Em!”

Out of sight of the rest of their team, she jogged forward to grab his hand, giving a small kiss to his knuckles. A comfortable silence had settled between the heavy setted footsteps of the married couple. Y/N rocked on her heels as her husband fumbled with the key card to their shared room. She rolled her neck, letting the tension fizzle out in separated pops of her bones. She barely registered the click of the door, or the wrap of fingers around her wrist. She did however, notice the cool, fake wood of the hotel door being pressed against her back. “Aaron?”

“You’re mine,” he murmured, pressing his lips in the angle of her neck. She chuckled, winding her fingers in his hair.

“I thought we already clarified that, baby.”

He hummed a chuckle, his tongue lapping up whatever remnants of perfume traced his neck. “And I intend to make that painfully obvious to everyone in that precinct.”

His lips wrapped around the muscles at the junction of her neck, drawing out a moan out of her with passing second that the air left his mouth. Y/N hummed a laugh, lifting her hips to grind against his. “Seriously, a hickey?”

His hand snaked up her waist to rest under her chin, squeezing slightly. She could feel the metal of his wedding band warm to the temperature of her skin. “I’ve got a point to prove, sweetheart.”

His fingers left her throat and reached down to pull the backs of her thighs to wrap around his waist, grunting slightly at the movement. She worked on unbuttoning her shirt, the best she could. “Aar-” their bodies fell to the bed, his legs slotted between hers. Y/N squeezed his left hand that had found its way into hers. “You’ve got me wrapped around your finger, remember?”

“Oh I remember, darling,” his mouth moved to her breasts, taking a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before letting it free. “I think you’re the one who needs a reminder.”

Aaron’s hands pushed up her skirt, adjusting it to pool at her hips. His calloused hands traced the edge of her underwear, sliding softly under the band. His mouth, trailing back up to her neck smirked as Y/N’s hips squirmed under his delicate touch. “Be patient, love.”

His attached his mouth to hers as his fingers slowly, finally began circling her clit. The metal of his ring brushing deliciously against the skin above. His teeth tugged her bottom lips, a small whine escaping her. He watched her blissed out expression morph into one of need, eyes scrunched with tension. His fingers dipped lower, circling her entrance before dipping two fingers in slowly.

“Aaron,” she gasped out, clenching around the fingers inside of her. “Aaron, please.”

“Shh, sweetheart,” he smiled into her neck, pressing his lips to her skin. “I’m gonna take good care of my wife, don’t you worry.”

His thumb, that had been rolling lazy circles against her clit, becomes more firm, with more intention. Y/N could feel the cold of her husband’s silver band pressing into her pussy as he pressed a third finger into her. The stretch of his hand, the way he stroked her walls with his fingers, and the words dripping from his lips were enough to put her body on edge.

“Oh you’re so tight, baby,” he chuckled darkly, breath blowing sweetly against her inner thighs. “Fuck, you’re wet. Is this all for me?”

Her fingers wrapped lazily between his black locks, tugging the strands. “Only you.”

“Of course, honey,” he cooed. “Look at you dripping all over my ring, I bet you’re gonna come soon, yeah?”

“Please,” Y/N whined loudly. “Please, Aaron, I can’t hold it anymore.”

“Come for me, baby, get nice and ready for my cock.” She let out a yelp, her back arching from the mattress as her husband continued to lazily stroke her cunt.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed, bringing his fingers up to his mouth for a taste, before pausing and redirecting his fingers to her mouth. Her eyes stayed on him and she hummed around his fingers, tongue lapping at her own juices around his wedding ring.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groaned, tugging off his own shirt, and ridding his pants and underwear. Y/N’s panties now rested at her knees, twisting over on itself, until she lazily ridded the rest of her garments.

Aaron now positioned her on her knees, head resting on her forearms as her ass ground into his pelvis. “Please, baby, wanna feel you,” her muffled voice called out.

He sucked his teeth with mock annoyance, lightly smacking one of her cheeks with his left hand. “And what did I say about being patient?” he chided, before lining his dick up and thrusting in.

Her toes curled at the sudden, but welcome intrusion. A groan left her throat as he began pounding into her pussy at a rough pace. Thrust for thrust, the room echoes with grunts and moans from both Y/N and her husband. She could almost feel his smug grin with every whine that fell through her lips.

“Fuck, Y/N look at you taking my cock so well. I bet you just love how I fill you up.” Her only responses were loud moans that flowed through his own voice as she clenched around him.

The metal of his wedding ring now almost burned against her sweating skin as he wrapped his hand around her throat once more, pulling her body to be flush against him as he continued to thrust into her at a bruising pace.

“Who’s making you feel this good, huh?” She stayed wordless, only echoing in whines and moans. He squeezed her neck a little tighter, the imprint of the ring creating a delicious friction. “Answer me.”

“You!” her voice bursted out. “You, Aaron, only you.”

“That’s right, sweetheart, your husband. I married you, I put that ring on your finger-” he groaned, attaching his lips to the juncture of her neck before speaking again. “Fuck, are you gonna come for me soon?”

“Yes!” she cried, “Please, please.”

“Go ahead, and come for me like a good girl,” he panted, using his other hand to rub against her clit, squeezing his fingers again on her throat before speaking right into her ear. “Come on your husband’s cock.”

She yelled with her release, back arching to meet Aaron’s chest. He let out a few more strong thrusts before he found his own release and coated her walls with a groan. His forehead landed on her shoulder, her fingers lazily combing through his hair.

Eventually, he pulled himself out to clean themselves up and crawl into bed. She had rested on his side, but yelped when he pulled her to lay on his chest. She smiled softly, fingers tracing imaginary shapes along his pecs, then started chuckling softly.

He cracked a smile reserved only for her. “What are you up to?”

Her giggles quieted and she stopped her movements. “Oh, I was just thinking. I should make you jealous more often.”

He groaned, tugging her close to him, covering her ringed hand with his own. “Don’t you dare.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she chuckled sweetly. “You’re mine.”

[spencersmagic]

a knife twists at the thought - SR

Prompt: a knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark - Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Spencer is new to this, and the poor boy is terrified

Couple: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid (i picture season 2/3 Spencer but y’all do you)

Category: angst

Word count: 3086 words

Warnings: general criminal minds stuff, mentions and descriptions of torture, descriptions of loss, HAPPY ENDING!!, my 3am writing, tooth rotting love, uhmm spoilers for Orwell’s 1984 (if anybody hasn’t read it), humiliation, Spencer crying and breaking my heart (lmk if you need anything warned or trigger tagged).

A/N This is very loosely based on 2x15 (VERY LOOSELY). I’m quite proud of this one :)

masterlist // 505 series taglist

*****

They say you never see it coming.

When a tragedy occurs, and someone’s life is turned upside down forever, they never see it coming. It just... hits them. Like an oncoming car ramming into a bystander who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

No one has time to prepare. In our time-starved lives, there is no place for such a warning.

One day, you just wake up. And they’re not next to you. They’ve disappeared, leaving the stickiest, most unforgettable parts of themselves behind for others to grieve to: the smell of their shampoo in the pillows they used to share, the seconds just as you wake when you still feel like you have them - only to gain full consciousness and realise they left you behind - even the fucking jars, which never seem to be open because he’s just not there to do it.

And you feel your heart breaking all over again as your soul sticks to the parts that couldn’t be erased with the rest of him as he left. Because you needed him, you had him, and now he’s gone. No warning, no letter, no signs which could’ve helped you foresee such a tragedy, because how could he? He didn’t disappear on purpose.

She doesn’t understand why he's so absent. So unequivocally missing. And the person she would turn to to ask these riddled questions isn’t there to answer. Because he’s gone.

But they’re not there yet.

And she feels so close to that feeling - the helplessness, the pain, the empty cups next to her bed because he always carried them to the sink when she was finished with her tea the mornings of those rare days they got to sleep in. Those days when they had time. She can practically touch, with the tip of her fingertips, the waves of pain that would surge over her if he was gone for one more fucking minute.

She has to remind herself, over and over again, like a mantra. He’s not gone yet.

The “yet” at the end of her mantra just breaks her all over again.

She was always the one to tell Spencer “if you worry before something happens, in case it goes wrong, and then it does, you’ve managed to suffer twice through something painful for absolutely no reason”. It usually worked. Needless to say, she felt like a hypocrite right about now.

Because Spencer is gone. And she doesn’t know how to bring him back.

She knows only to watch the monitor, never once blinking, taking in everything that happened in that damned livestream - every word, every sound, every reference. She can only try to hear anything over the whimpers and sobs her love was letting out as he’s tortured by that man. She can only hear the cracks of his knuckles against Spencers soft skin, the same soft skin she had kissed mere hours ago before telling him to “be careful”. Her own way of saying the three little words the couple was too young to hear. She can only see his lips parting, sobs rumbling out of his body as the unsub abuses his frame over and over again - same lips which had kissed her forehead before telling her “i always am”.

Then again, she isn’t sure if its his voice which is filling her head with painful sounds or if her mind is playing tricks on her, memorising the horrifying vibrations coming from his chest for her to ever consider anything else. She hasn’t stopped hearing him since she turned on that damned computer.

She isn’t sure she’ll ever stop hearing it.

**

As a man of great intellect, Spencer always recurred to knowledge to understand difficult occurrences in his life. Burying himself in textbooks, novels, poems, and even music to understand pain, and himself having a life filled with it, he was an incredibly knowledgeable man.

He knew much. But right now, he only knew one thing.

In Orwells’ 1984, as Winston was being tortured (much like Spencer is right now), Orwell described the following:

“Never, for any reason on earth, could you wish for an increase of pain. Of pain you could only wish one thing: that it should stop. Nothing in the world was so bad as physical pain. In the face of pain there are no heroes, no heroes”.

And, as a man who had acquired most of his intellect by immersing himself in trivial content in the face of pain, he found himself doing the same thing as the unsub hurt him over and over again, each blow seemingly more painful than the last. As his skin bruised, a causality of his abusers torment, he analysed the seemingly logical quote.

It must depend on the person, he was sure. In fact, a number of factors must be taken into consideration at this statement. For starters, Winston lives in a society incapable of any human feelings. There is only dominance, and those who attempt, in vain, to challenge it. Surely, if he had felt happiness, like the one you feel when the first day of spring rolls around, or like the one that creeps up on you as you look into the eyes of your loved one, surely, he would understand that some things can outweigh pain.

Love.

If Spencer’s mind could make sense of what he was feeling right now, he would understand, something he would figure of were he to leave this damned place, that he was thankful to the Gods, were there any, for having the unsub kidnap him and not Y/N.

Winston hadn’t understood emotional pain because emotions weren’t dealt with regularly. They were discouraged. That’s why he believed that there are no heroes in the face of pain. Because he doesn’t understand emotional pain.

He knew he was suffering. He also knew that Y/N was at the other side of the blinking camera suffering more than he could ever imagine.

**

They say emotional pain lasts 12 minutes. Anything one feels after this would be the aftermath of the cause of the pain in question. Pure emotional pain, the one you practically feel in your chest, the one that says “i can’t think, feel or be. not until this feeling dissipates”.

She had learned this from Spencer.

And she wished it were true. As she watched that damned monitor, she wished that all the venom the unsub was spewing at Spencer, all the verbal abuse, was long forgotten. She wished he could only feel the physical pain. Because the mind is incredibly stronger than the body - it could keep him awake, alive, for just enough time for the team to rescue him.

The entire team had huddled around the monitor around her. She was painfully aware that other people were seeing this. Which meant it wasn’t her imagination. It wasn’t another one of those damned dreams she would have when she slept a little too far away from Spencer’s touch.

They had only been together for two months, but his touch was all that could get her to fall asleep.

She jolted as the unsub landed another slap on Spencer’s cheek, swiftly grabbing his hair for him to look into the camera. He had a cut above his right cheek, just where she would kiss him in the mornings, and bruises all over his neck, jaw and left eye.

“Say hi to your team!” he mocked Spencer, chuckling darkly as he moved his almost lifeless body around for the team to watch in horror. Spencer let out a heartbreaking sob, feeling so vulnerable.

“Why don’t we make this interesting?” he jumped, as if he had gotten an idea. The unsub reached behind himself to grab a pistol, clicking off the magazine safety to put one bullet in one of the eight slots, leaving the other seven free. He pointed it at Spencer’s temple.

Her entire body shook the thought of seeing Spencer’s lifeless body, held up only by the ropes and that sick man’s grip around his curls. The same curls she grabbed as she kissed his face when she wanted his attention.

“I’m going to ask you some questions...” he said, voice dripping with sickening sweetness as he turned the roulette, “and if i don’t like your answer i’ll pull the trigger! Let God decide what I do with you. Sounds good?”. He wanted to humiliate Spencer.

However, Spencer made the mistake of not answering him. He was quickly reminded as the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, pulling the trigger, a loud bang! sound expanding through the barn.

“I asked you a question!” he suddenly yelled into Spencer’s face.

“Y-yes, Sir” he whimpered, shaking at the ease at which the man pulled the trigger.

“Good, you’re learning”.

**

She experienced it by bits. Hotch’s hoarse voice. “Talk to me Garcia”. “We’ve got coordinates”. Everybody rushing to the SUVs. Tripping over her own feet on the way to the car. Morgan’s voice. The iPad, which still carried Spencer’s whimpers and the man mocking tone.

“I’ve got your diary, Spence” his sing-song voice didn’t match the disgusting man she was looking at. Nothing made sense.

“And I wanna know why...” he drew out the ‘y’ as he looked for something between the worn pages between his hands.

Of course she knew Spencer owned a diary. But she was mature enough to keep her hands to herself and her eyes on her own pages as he wrote on his, eyebrows creasing as he recalled all which he had experienced during the day. His face would twitch slightly at the memories, both good and bad, as he basically described his day word by word.

“...why did you wait until you were 24 to lose your virginity?” he asked in a clear attempt to humiliate and ridicule Spencer in front of his team.

“I-I didn't-” he could barely finish a word before a sob wrecking through his body at the humiliation, chest rumbling and voice wavering. “I didn’t want to lose it before, i w-wasn’t in a hurry” he rushed out. The man brought the pistol to his own chin, tapping it as he thought. “Hmm... I’m satisfied with your answer. Let’s dig deeper, shall we?” he asked as he went back into the pages.

“ooh! This one is new” that sick bastard was having fun with this, completely unaware that the team was less than 5 minutes away from their location.

“Care to read what you wrote three days ago? Right here” he turned the pages so Spencer could read them, though he was painfully aware of that entry he was talking about. His body shook violently. “P-please. D-don’t ma-make me do t-this” he whimpered, body feeling defeated.

“Wrong answer” the unsub said before pointing a gun at him and pulling the trigger.

A shriek was heard from the iPad. The SUV went silent.

“He’s alive” she whispered, unable to speak up. “He-” she swallowed. “He’s alive. We’re not there, yet” her mantra became a reminder that she hadn’t been quick enough to help him. She had the tools to save him. Every second she had the knowledge to save him and didn’t was another second she remained impotent at the risk of losing the love of her life.

Spencer’s voice spoke from the iPad.

“C-can you at-at leas-st turn off t-the ca-amera?” he said between sobs.

And it hit her.

What hurt him the most wasn’t the memories he had to relieve, but the fact that the rest of the team would have to hear his most intimate thoughts. His deepest secrets.

He could bare the pain. The humiliation? That broke him.

“Aww” the unsub chuckled mockingly, “are you embarrassed?” he said, slouching down to look into his eyes. “Well too fucking bad!” he screamed into his face, spitting with every word he spewed at him. Spencer’s sobs got louder.

“O-okay okay!” Spencer caved, accepting the journal that got shoved into his face.

“Read, pretty boy” the unsub sang. That son of a bitch was having fun.

“We’re two minutes away, Y/N” Hotch said. Maybe it was he sobs, which were barely audible to herself, having accepted them as second nature after all the heartbreak she was experiencing, but Hotch needed her to be okay.

His own heart thumped into his chest, feeling as helpless as he’d ever felt. Seeing a member of his team - someone he was supposed to take care of, someone he was supposed to keep safe - was sobbing as he was physically and emotionally tortured. But he was painfully aware of the feelings Y/N was experiencing. The sheer fear that was running down her veins at the idea of them running out of time.

After a few sobs, Spencer started reading, interrupting himself occasionally with his whimpers:

“It’s been three months. Today, three months, seven hours and forty-six minutes ago, she did what I didn’t have the courage to do. She asked me out. “I’ve been wanting to ask you pretty much since the day i met you” she had said. Those words keep ringing in my head like a beautifully written symphony, intrinsically designed to make me face my deepest fears. Opening my scars one by one, dissecting them and reaching the simple conclusion that i was a coward.

She didn’t say it, but what she meant was “i’ve been waiting for you to do it, but you never did, so i had to”. We wasted time - a time so precious and sacred - because i was a coward.

I’ve never felt like this before. I never understood a love so deep as to move something so stubborn as the human spirit. I’ve read textbook after textbook, and novel after novel, and still I’ve never learned more than with her. But I was a coward. And i wasted her time. I fear that I still am.

A knife twists at the thought that i should fall short of the mark. It’s impossible for me to ever be enough for her”.

Her heart broke at this confession. Even worse at the thought that he wouldn’t’ve told her, instead inhaling fear and exhaling rejection at every breath he took next to her.

“We’re here” she heard Hotch, looking at her. She grabbed a bottle of water and dropped the iPad, not hearing the teams objections at the lack of vest and preparation and ran into the barn.

She isn’t sure if she’ll ever stop hearing his whimpers. As she runs closer, she hears them louder and louder, decorated with sobs and cries, and small, meaningless replies to his abusers’ mocking words.

She kicked the door down, the loud bang booming across the room, only helping in raising Spencer’s sobs as he feared the sound had been the result of a certain trigger being pulled. As she looks at him, she realises just how much pain he’s been put through.

She remembers Orwells words, much like how Spencer had remembered them mere hours ago. And disagrees, wishing over and over, praying to the Gods that she would be the victim of such atrocious abuse. She wished she could take his pain. Morgan joined her at her side mere seconds later, yelling. “FBI! Put the gun down!”.

Spencer used the last bit of energy to lunge forward, hitting the unsubs stomach with his head, successfully getting him on the floor for Morgan to apprehend. Y/N rushed to Spencer’s side, untying him, as his now nonexistent sobs grew louder and louder, not only at the prospect of getting out of that horrible place alive, but also at the knowledge that Y/N had heard what he had so dreadfully recited.

Spencer collapsed into her arms, crying into her in the same way she was crying into him, and she wondered just how to take away all his pain. So they cried into each other, desperately grasping each others hair, skin, clothes, anything that would make them feel like they wouldn’t have to spend another damned second without the company of each other.

Spencer was the first to break the silence.

“I need-” he stopped, coughing. She reached for the bottle of water she had brought with her because she knew he would need it. She always knew what he needed.

He chugged it desperately, stray drops falling down his chin at his eagerness. He took a deep breath trying to steady his lungs.

“I need to get out of here” he choked out.

She grabbed him under the shoulders, careful not to hurt him - not being successful, realising that there wasn’t much of him the man hadn’t hurt. Y/N pulled him out, sitting down on the grass with him. Their legs intertwined, pulling each other impossibly closer. They kissed, over and over again. Not as an act of any sexual relevance, but as a reminder that they had each other in any way, shape or form. That they weren’t out of time.

The team was certain they would stay there, never letting each other go for another minute.

After what felt like seconds in their time-starved little world, she broke the silence, which had only been filled with their own cries and occasional sobs.

“Spence” she grabbed his chin to look into his eyes. They were dull, red and hooded. He was exhausted. “Mhmm?” he let out, looking into hers. She was his solace.

“How could you ever think you were anything but completely and unequivocally enough?” she whispered the words he dreaded.

But as Spencer looked into her eyes he knew, better than he had ever known anything, that he was enough. And she was enough. He realised that which she had known for the past three months (possibly longer). They fit like two marvellous puzzle pieces.

Her hands grabbed his cheeks slowly, as to not hurt or startle him, pulling his forehead into hers. “Baby, I can’t imagine anybody else waking up to me every morning. You’re so much more than enough”, she planted a small kiss on his forehead before resuming her position. “I’ll remind you every day of the rest of my life if that’s what it takes for you to believe it”.

And with their eyes closed, foreheads and noses pressed together and legs tangled between each other, pulling each other close, closer - around grass and voices and his abuser pressed into the hood of a police car, they only felt each other. With their shaky breaths, even shakier voices, fearing any words that would leave them in case they triggered a cascade of tears down their oh so vulnerable cheeks, they were more than enough.

***

I hope y’all liked it!! Feel free to let me know by liking, reblogging, or sending me a message :) 

super cool kid taglist: @lady-anon-x​ @spencerreid-mgg​​ @eoupe​ @inlovewithbabygirl​ @galaxydefenderjulia​ @username2002​

[thedeathdeelers]

just a little bit of magic (you know the rest by heart) ✨

my take on a Juke HP AU for the lovely Taryn @pink-flame on her birthday 🥰🎂 may you have an amazing day/week/month/year, you wonderful human being.

hope you like it!

----

Luke eagerly pulls Julie along as they walk down several corridors, up moving staircases and through low hanging archways. The deeper they walked into the castle, the quieter it got.

He had been jittery all morning, too impatient to pay attention in any of his classes as he counted down the hours and minutes until he was free to find Julie and drag her to his surprise. He’d lost his house countless of house points, his leg bouncing and his mind wandering whenever any of his professors called on him in class.

Alex had tried to help a few times whispering the right answers to him, but unfortunately nothing could help Luke when he got in one of these moods. He was just too excited.

Julie trips on her feet behind him, a reminder that her legs were shorter than his. He shakes his head, bringing himself back to the present as he focuses on the girl next to him. Luke slows down his pace, squeezing Julie’s hand once in apology as he gives her a few seconds to regain her balance.

The last thing he wanted to do was mess this up by having her trip and fall right before his big reveal.

Alex had already nearly blown the entire thing when they had passed him on the fifth floor coming out of the prefects’ bathrooms, forcing Luke to very loudly and purposefully talk over him to stop Julie from hearing anything. When he had realised his mistake, Alex had quickly gone quiet, his features morphing into a sheepish expression as he waved at them, walking away and back towards the Hufflepuff common room.

“Luuuuuke, where are you taking me?" His lips twitch at her whine, finding it to be very endearing. "It’s nearly past curfew and as Prefect I really can’t afford to be caught sneaking around by Harrison again.” He sees her look down at her outfit from the corner of his eye, a look of frustrated confusion taking over her face. "Also why did you tell me to change into my normal clothes under my robe?"

Luke snorts at her words, hopping onto the stairs leading them towards the seventh floor, Julie quickly following suit as the staircase starts moving.

“First of all, Harrison absolutely loves you — she'd probably thank you for being you and then very politely ask you to head back to your tower, and then turn right around and give me 3 months’ worth of detention in the same breath.” He turns his head towards her, throwing her his signature grin. “You’ll be fine. And second of all, you ask too many questions. We’re nearly there -- be patient Young Padawan."

"Young-" She shakes her head, cutting herself off, the muggle reference clicking. Luke grimaces at his choice of words, thinking might be spending a little too much time around Reggie lately. "And where is there, exactly?"

Luke tries very hard not to take the stairs two steps at a time.

"Nuh-uh, I already told you - it's a surprise."

He smiles at the disgruntled noise she makes, knowing just how impatient Julie can be. He sneaks a look at her face from over his shoulder, nearly tripping over the stone steps when he sees a little pout on her lips.

At his fumble, a smirk replaces the pout, her voice coming out cockier than usual. "You good there, Patterson?"

Luke whips his head back around, his eyes flying to his feet and staying fixed on the steps in front of him.

"Yeah," he clears his throat before continuing, "yeah, I'm fine. We're uh- we're nearly there."

"It's what you keep telling me," is her teasing, sing-song reply, her mood apparently shifting at his fumble.

Luke keeps his eyes forward, hoping Julie can't see his reddened cheeks as they reach the seventh floor landing. He stops for a second to let her catch her breath before pulling her along with him again, taking the first left corridor they come across to head towards the Troll tapestry.

He'd been taking this route so many times in the last few weeks, he could probably do this with his eyes closed. He had wanted everything to be perfect, practicing again and again until he was sure he had nailed the process.

Only the best for his Julie Molina.

Their steps echo as they make their way down the seldom used corridor, the flickering lights from the torches casting long shadows on the stone floor ahead of them.

"Merlin, this castle is so creepy sometimes," mutters Julie to his left, shivering slightly as her hand tightens its hold on his.

Luke squeezes back, his eyes zeroing in on the tapestry up ahead. His heart starts to beat faster, the excitement reaching an all-time high, only slightly tainted by the nerves that fought to make their presence known.

Taking a deep breath, Luke slowly lets it out as they reach their destination, stopping and turning to face the large tapestry.

Julie stands next to him, confused as she takes in the scene before her - a group of Trolls in tutus attempting to learn the ballet. He watches her as she follows their movements, zeroing in on Barnabas the Barmy as he attempts to direct the Trolls to his left, while the ones on the right pull out their clubs ready to hit him over the head.

Luke loses focus for a second, too taken by Julie - by her furrowed brows, her scrunched up nose as she leans forward to inspect the design on the tutus, and especially by the way her lips twist before her bottom lip slips between her teeth.

He's only shaken out of his daze, his eyes flying up and away from her lips, when she suddenly turns to him with a quizzical look on her face.

"Is this the Barnabas the Barmy Tapestry? Why are we- wait..." She turns her head back towards the Tapestry, taking in the scene with new eyes. "I remember reading about this in Hogwarts: A History years ago...It was the chapter about the many hidden magical rooms in Hogwarts and..." She trails off as she looks at him, her eyes widening. She lets go of his hand, slowly turning in place to face the wall behind them - the one right across from the Tapestry.

"Wait....Isn't this-"

Luke rushes to cut her off, quickly turning around and stepping up in front of her to block her view of the wall, in a hurry to derail her train of thought.

"Okay! So, if you could stand right," he places his hands on either side of her waist, pulling her forward as he walks backwards, positioning her right in the middle of the corridor. "Here."

His hands don't move once she's in place, his fingers brushing against smooth warmth right where a sliver of skin peaks out between her t-shirt and the top of her jeans. He had somehow slid his hands under her open robes without even realising it.

His eyes fly up to meet hers, already wide and staring. They stand there in the quiet space, both locked in each others' gazes, neither one of them daring to move. Within seconds Luke can already feel the now familiar thrum of electricity that always crackled whenever they were both together. Only this time it felt even more surreal.

If he could, Luke thinks he could stay this way for the rest of the night, of the school year, but he brought her here for a reason, so he loudly clears his throat, effectively breaking some of the tension that had built between them. He lets his hands slip away from her waist as he takes a step back, his fingers still tingling from the contact.

"So just...yeah just stay there for a few seconds, while I..." He trails off as he looks away, turning around to face the bare wall in front of them and trying very hard to refocus on the task at hand.

He closes his eyes, clearing his mind until all he has left is the image of the room he wants to recreate.

Taking a deep breath, he pivots on his right foot and faces the direction they had just come from. He takes a few steps forward then abruptly turns back around and walks back down the corridor, making sure to keep his focus. He stops again once he reaches the edge of the Tapestry, turning back around and repeating the process until he starts hearing the sound of crumbling walls that always preceded the emergence of a large wooden door, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

Luke opens his eyes to take in the transformation in front of him, only turning to look at Julie when he hears her surprised gasp.

"Luke-" she's cut off by the increasing creaking sound of the door hinges slotting into place, the loud grating out of place on the deserted floor - until suddenly - everything stops. A deafening silence follows, only broken by the crackling of the torches nearby.

Coughing quietly to get her attention, Luke speaks up.

"So...Reggie told us about this room he read about a few weeks ago when we were trying to find a new rehearsal space to use, since, you know, Covington kicked us out of the fifth floor classrooms 'cause he obviously has no taste whatsoever when it comes to real music and loves making everyone miserable, especially Hufflepuffs and-" Luke cuts himself off when he realises he's rambling, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat to continue.

"Yeah well, I asked around to check if this place actually existed and then Willie, you know how Willie likes to listen to us play - although honestly I think he just likes to hang out so he can watch Alex - but anyway, what I'm trying to say is that one of the ghosts from down by the dungeons owed Willie a favour so....ta-da," he finishes lamely, his arms coming up to point towards the door in front of them while wiggling his fingers.

It's quiet for a few seconds, Julie presumably taking it all in.

"You- you found the Room of Requirement?" She asks quietly, sounding almost awed.

"I mean- I had a lot of help from the guys and then Willie and the Bloody-"

"You found it," she cuts him off, her fingers reaching forward as she moves close enough to touch the door.

Luke scratches the back of his head, suddenly feeling shy in her presence.

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did."

He keeps his eyes on her, tracking her movements as she traces the patterns on the door, following the curving decorative loops down the length of the doorframe until her fingers wrap around the protruding metal handle.

"Luke, this is incredible."

The tone of her voice makes his cheeks grow warmer.

"Nah it's nothing," he tries to brush it off, shuffling on his feet, glad that she is too preoccupied with the door to see his continuously reddening cheeks.

She turns to him then, her hand still latching onto the handle.

"It's not nothing! There's a literal betting pool over at Ravenclaw tower to see who can find this place first, and so far no one's done it..." She shakes her head at him, a smile making its way onto her lips. "But you did."

Luke scuffs his shoe against the stone flooring, not sure what to do with himself. He's always been awkward with compliments, especially when they came from Julie.

Apparently Julie eventually takes pity on him, speaking up again.

"So Patterson, what am I going to find behind this door? A record store? That dodgy hot dog place you told me about? I saw you pacing back and forth three times in front of it, so I'm assuming you already have something or somewhere in mind."

She quirks a brow at him, her eyes shining bright with curiosity.

"Yes! That's actually why I brought you here," he chooses to ignore her little digs as he bounces closer to the door, coming to stand right next to her. "So I remember you saying at the start of the year how you've been struggling with music and...y'know...because no matter where you went you just never felt comfortable enough? And then I remembered the studio you always talked about, the one where your mom taught you everything you knew..."

He watches as her expression slowly morphs, her eyes getting wider and her lips parting ever so slightly.

"I asked Flynn to show me if you had any photos of the space and well..." Luke wraps his fingers around the metal chain hanging off his jeans underneath his robe, squeezing tight to keep himself from fidgeting.

Julie continues to stare at him, her expression frozen on her face. It only made him more restless.

Shit, did he take it too far? Was this not what friends did for each other? Sure he had been in love with Julie for years now, but he's been trying really hard to keep it strictly friendly between them, not wanting to ruin anything, especially after having lost her mom.

And Luke likes to think this is definitely something he would have done for either Reggie or Alex.

But maybe her studio back home was something too personal to her? Maybe she wasn't ready?

"Oh Merlin Julie if this is out of line we can just forget this whole thing happened and-"

Suddenly Luke is cut off by a small bundle of limbs and soft curves throwing themselves at him. His arms reach up reflexively, wrapping them around her, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back.

"Thank you," she says, or so he thinks, being the only words he can barely make out, muffled as they are against his t-shirt.

"Of course Julie." He moves his hands up and down her back, a gesture he knows is comforting to her.

The arms wrapped around his neck tighten for a second before she releases him, taking a small step back and wiping at her face with the sleeve of her robe.

He takes in her face, her expression so vulnerable, unsure about what to do next. But then a small smile appears as she nods at his unanswered question. He reciprocates, nodding back with a smile of his own.

He gestures towards the door. "So, want to do the honours?"

He watches as she nods again, taking in a deep breath before turning to face the door once more. With slightly shaking hands, Julie reaches over and wraps her fingers around the handle, twisting it before pushing. The heavy wooden door creaks at the movement, slowly swinging open until they were both standing on the threshold of a brightly lit garage-turned studio space.

Luke only takes a second to check that everything inside is as it should be, before turning back around to look at Julie.

Her eyes widen at the scene that welcomes her, the steps she takes as she crosses over into the space small and tentative. Luke slips in right behind her, taking her hand off the handle before easing the door shut behind them. He keeps her hand in his as she looks around the space, her fingers brushing over everything within her reach - from the throw covering the armchair that greets them on the right, to the trinkets covering the corner shelves on their left. As they gradually move into the studio, the sound of their footsteps alternating from loud to muffled as they cross over the various rugs decorating the space, Julie’s eyes move upwards, her attention momentarily shifting to the ceiling. Luke follows her gaze to see the three hanging chairs he’d debated leaving out, glad to have included now that he sees a wistful smile take place on Julie’s face.

With the late afternoon Californian sunlight streaming in through the windows, the studio almost looks magical, a warm golden glow enveloping the space. Julie’s gaze comes back down as she pulls Luke along with her further into the studio, walking around the baby grand piano, her finger lightly trailing its side, to stand in front of the wall of plants nestled against the glass back wall.

"My mom..." Julie starts, breaking the silence before trailing off as she reaches over to touch the leaves hanging closest to her. "She always said that plants were sacred. She used to tell me and Carlos all these stories about these spirits that lived in each and every single plant on Earth, protecting those who cared for them. Nurturing all those who treated them with love and kindness and respect." Luke takes in the sight of the green foliage, noting how beautiful it looked. "Said tjat our loved ones’ spirits somehow lived in the very roots of these plants.

“Our house has these pots and vases full of flowers and all sorts of plants all over the place - even our garden looks like a jungle!" She lets out a watery laugh, sniffling as she gets on her tiptoes as if on instinct to pull down a green watering pot resting on a shelf above them.

Luke, seeing what Julie wants to do, hurries to pull out his wand from his back-pocket, muttering a quick Aguamenti as he taps the watering pot. Julie shoots him a grateful smile before she starts watering the plants one by one, Luke tucking his wand away into his robe pocket.

“We used to take turns, each of us spending a few minutes or hours watering and pruning every single plant in the house and in here - but my mom was always there anyway, singing to us, to the plants. Keeping us company.” Julie leans forward as she tries to reach the back row. "But when she...when she wasn't around anymore, I- I stopped. I couldn't bring myself to think about her plants or her music or her stories — let alone come in here where everything about this place reminded me of her." Luke gently rubs the back of her hand with his thumb, not wanting to cut her off, but still finding a small way to try and comfort her.

"I guess my dad took care of everything last summer..." Julie trails off as she finishes watering the remaining hanging plants, before placing the watering pot back in its place.

She turns to him, a peaceful smile lighting up her face. "I forgot how soothing it felt to do that. Thank you."

Luke's smile widens at her words, nodding at her in response.

She keeps her eyes locked on his for a few more seconds before averting her gaze, turning back around to face the piano they had walked past earlier.

Julie lets go of his hand as she slowly makes her way towards the instrument, only stopping when she reaches the bench. Luke takes note of her hesitancy to touch the piano, only to then take a deep breath and slip onto the bench, fingers poised over the fall-board.

He slowly walks up behind her, squeezing her shoulder once before moving away.

"Julie, if you need some space or want me to go I can just-"

Her eyes, which had slid shut, pop open at his words as she cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

"No! No, this is- Stay. I want you here, really." She looks at him with so much open trust and something else he can't quite place, that Luke doesn’t really know what to say. So instead he just nods at her, pointing at the black couch behind him.

"I'm uh- I'll just go sit there? Give you a few minutes to yourself, yeah?"

At her nod, he takes a step backwards before spinning around on the spot, his shoe squeaking against the wood flooring, jumping over the coffee table and landing on the old weathered couch cushions.

He hears a little giggle behind him, his head whipping up in time to find Julie attempting, and failing, to smother the sound. His pokes his tongue out at her in response even as warmth blooms in his chest at the sound of her laughter.

She shakes her head at him before averting her eyes and focusing the piano before her, slowing reaching out to lift the fall-board.

He can see the anticipation and fear and love and grief and happiness swirling in her eyes, noticed the way her fingers shake as they hover over the keys. His own fingers dig into his knees, forcing himself to stay still, to stay quiet, as he witnesses a moment that truly is monumental for Julie.

He watches her as she takes another deep breath, squaring her shoulders as if ready for battle. She nods to herself once right before her fingers land on the keys, music instantly filling every corner of the studio, every corner of his soul.

Luke has always been sensitive to music - he thinks that's why he's always been good at picking up new instruments so quickly, at finding the right words and melodies and blending them together to create something new and exciting. But the feeling that courses through him as he listens to Julie singing takes him completely by surprise. It's like a physical punching him in the gut, squeezing his heart and taking his breath away all at once. He sits there, stunned, as he listens to Julie inadvertently command his full attention, singing her heart out.

He thinks it must be an original, because he doesn’t recognise it at all.

Her face goes through a rollercoaster of emotions, pain leaking through as she makes her way through the first pre-chorus.

And you use your pain,

‘Cause it makes you you,

Thought I wish I could hold you through it

I know it’s not the same

You got living to do

And I just want you to do it

But then just as she reaches the end, gearing up for what feels like the chorus, Luke sees determination take its place.

So get up, get out, relight that spark,

You know the rest by heart

Julie dives into the chorus, full of energy and hope, another one of her many smiles suddenly changing the tone of the song.

She makes her way through the second verse, pre-chorus and chorus in the same vain, the energy around her building and building, Luke’s heart beat matching it.

The song reaches its crescendo, her voice climbing as it builds on every note it hits, Julie getting to her feet, spreading her arms wide as she gets to the high note. A look of peaceful acceptance crosses her face before she eases the songs to it’s final chorus, settling back down onto the bench, singing and playing softly as the song comes to an end, the last two words ringing in the quiet studio.

Wake up

All Luke can do is stare with his mouth hanging open as Julie lowers her hands onto her lap, her eyes closed, chest heaving. He had always known that Julie was a powerhouse, always known that music coursed through her veins right along her magic, but he had never heard her sing the way she just had. Not with the full force of her voice as so many raw emotions filtered through.

It left him reeling. He needed to catch his breath.

If he wasn't already in love with her, he knows he'd be head over heels for her after what he had just witnessed.

He's pulled out of his daze when Julie moves, her eyes open as she stands up and steps away from the bench, slowly moving towards him.

Luke scrambles to shuffle down the sofa making space for her to sit, only to be surprised when she chooses to sit on his lap, her arms wrapping around his neck as she burrows her face in his neck.

It takes him a few seconds to react, his body frozen and unable to process.

"I know I keep saying this but....thank you," she whispers, voice unstable, her lips sending shivers down his spine as they brush against the skin of his neck.

The movement snaps him out of his stupor, his arms coming up to fully wrap around her, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans back against the couch cushions.

"I told you," he says, resting his chin over her head of curls, "anything for you, Julie."

Her fingers curls into the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling herself closer to him at his words.

They stay that way for a while, Julie’s breathing eventually easing into a calm rhythm.

Luke stays quiet, understanding her need to absorb everything she had just gone through, happy to just hold her in his arms. When she does break the silence, her voice comes out a little more composed.

"I- that was a song my mom wrote for me before she- when she found out..." Her whisper trails off into silence, the pain in her voice squeezing at his heart.

Luke tightens his arms around her.

"You don't have to explain it to me, Jules, it's okay."

"No I- I want to."

Luke relents, nodding at her words as he patiently waits for her to continue.

"I found the song right before leaving home back in September, and when I saw it...it just hurt too much. I couldn't even get past the title." She releases her grip on his shirt only to start tracing random patterns on his arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

“I packed it up and brought it with me thinking I’d be able to read it once settled in my dorm, a space my mom’s never been in but — it took me months to even take it out again, and then a few more months after that just to read through the whole thing. That first time I was a mess," she laughs, a small quiet sound. "Flynn was so close to dragging me to Madam Pomfrey but I managed to convince her I was okay-ish. And then after that it slowly started becoming a little easier every time I read through it until one day I just knew the full song by heart." She stops talking for a few minutes, lost in her own thoughts as she continues her ministrations on his arm. "But even then I still couldn't get myself to sing it, I was always so scared that once I did, it meant that my mom really was gone, that the last piece I had connecting me to her was over and I couldn't bear it..."

Luke's heart drops at her words, an apology ready on the tip of his tongue.

"But the minute I walked into our studio again, this studio, after watering those plants and being able to share all of her stories about spirits and magic and life always being around even after death with you, it just...clicked." She lifts her head up from her hiding place, finally locking eyes with him. "I carry her with me, in everything I do. And I know that I would have eventually figured this out myself, probably once I went back home over the summer, maybe, but..." Julie places her hand against his cheek, her fingers warm against his skin. "It wouldn't have been the same, and I- well, thank you. Again." She tilts her head, looking at him from under her lashes with a smile so radiant on her face, all he can do is nod, turning his head to press a kiss against the palm of her hand.

He feels her fingers twitch against his face, a hitch in her breathing as he looks back up at her.

He finds her looking at him, eyes wide and open, looking both tired and fully awake with dried tear tracks down her cheeks, her bun falling apart with loose curls bending at weird angles from a long day of classes, but all he can think is how beautiful she is. How much he loves her and everything she is, and he tries to hard to stop himself but-

"I love you.”

The words spill out, unable and unwilling to stay locked up anymore. His own eyes widen at his confession, regret flooding in the second he says it.

"I- I- I," he tries to backtrack, to fill the silence, anything, but now that the words are out in the open, his brain and mouth seem to have detached, neither one wanting to cooperate with the other.

Julie stares at him, her eyes somehow growing larger, her mouth forming into the shape of an "o".

“Oh.”

Luke braces himself for her rejection, prepares himself to feel the cold air rush in the minute she moves off of his lap.

But instead, Julie brings up her other hand to fully cup his face, her mouth stretching out into a full blown grin.

"You love me?" she asks, breathless.

Luke, too stunned to do anything else, simply nods at her question.

“You love me," she repeats, this time more of a statement than a question.

She surprises again him by laughing, a lovely melodious sound that pulls the laughter out of him, joining her in her mirth as he chuckles quietly along in his confusion.

"I'm sorry I'm not- I'm not laughing at you," she tries to get out between laughs, her smile still present on her face. "I'm just in disbelief, I-" She shakes her head, laughter quietening down as her thumbs swipe along his cheekbones.

"I love you too."

Those four words take him by surprise, affecting him in a way even her singing hadn’t, his mind spinning, heart racing, entire being vibrating.

Julie Molina loved him.

She loved him too.

He takes his time to commit this moment, her face, the feel of her weight on his lap and the warmth of her hands against his cheeks, to memory. His eyes roam her face, taking in every detail, before they finally land on her smiling lips.

He briefly thinks back to all the moments he had wished he could kiss her, taste her smile and her joy and happiness - and share in that glow that always seemed to be uniquely hers.

He now smiles at that thought, thinking that maybe he might actually be able to experience the one thing he had always craved but thought was off-limits.

Lifting his eyes back up to meet her, Luke leans slightly forward, in askance, in invitation. When she reciprocates his movements, Luke brings both his hands up from behind her back, cupping her face as he pulls her closer to him, ending years’ worth of pining.

That night was the first time of many that Luke Patterson was given the privilege of tasting Julie Molina's smile.

fin

[shutupanddance]

Master Post

If you’re looking for my Master List, check out this link:

https://shutupanddance.tumblr.com/masterlist

Okay cool cats and kittens, I’m creating this master post to help you navigate my page and stay updated :) It will be pinned to my blog, and it will have my fandom list, my prompt list, my to-do list, any current events, and a few frequently asked questions. So, looking for information about requesting? Suggestions for requests? Or wondering what I’m currently working on? Don’t know if I’ve received your request? This is the place to look! Just keep on reading <3

Current Events 

None!

Fandoms

Here are the fandoms I write for!!

+ Marvel (MCU)

+ DC (DCU)

+ Sherlock

+ Star Wars (trilogies, Clone Wars, Rebels, Mandalorian)

+ Star Trek (reboots, original series)*

+ Pacific Rim

+ Knives Out

+ Night at the Museum

+ LOTR / The Hobbit

+ Jurassic Park/World

+ The West Wing*

+ NCIS*

*fandoms that you will see the most of on my blog.

Prompt List

(Does not include prompts from any current events) Here are some prompts that you can use for your request, or for your own writing! As a reminder, not all of these prompts are properly credited. Please let me know if you have the original creator’s @!

#1: “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

#2: “Should I ask why you have a knife in your purse?”

”It’s a dagger, actually, and no you shouldn’t.”

#3: “Close your eyes and listen. And trust me.”

#4: Rosemary, broken glass, and an old gun.

#5: “Do you remember when I loved you?”

”No.”

”Good, because I never did.”

#6: “He saw the notice in the paper.”

”Why would you let him see the paper?”

”What was I supposed to do, eat it?”

#7: “I didn’t catch your name!”

”I didn’t throw it.”

#8: “I’m not better than you, but at least I’m not you. And right now, that’s worth a whole lot.”

#9: Romantic dinner, but something is wrong.

#10: Forehead kisses during an apocalypse

#11: “This isn’t BBC Sherlock! You can’t just run around administering justice as you see fit!

#12: Trying to get a smoke detector to shut up

#13: Falling out of a closet during Hide N Seek

#14: Revealing a dark secret, but it turns out that they already know

#15: Once upon a midnight dreary

#16: The odds were never in our favor

#17: If I should die, think only this of me

#18: Attack hugs

#19: Afraid of ladybugs

#20: The dumb*ss God couldn’t stop

#21: “There’s a rumor going around that you’re the one to ask if someone needs to acquire rare and dangerous objects.”

”There’s a rumor going around that you’re an undercover cop.”

#22: A parking lot, a coroner, and snails

#23: “You’re the only person I know who calls me that.”

#24: This is not a drill.

#25: It’s the price we pay to feel

#26: A character is cleaning/sweeping the floor when someone walks by with dirty shoes (via @writingprompts365 )

#27: “I’m back from my mission!”

““You failed it.”

““How’d you know?”

They point at the TV.

#28: A character is pushed into some bushes/plants/flowers (via @writingprompts365 )

#29: A character picks up a very shiny rock (same @)

#30: A character combs another character’s hair (same)

#31: A character is forced to have a conversation with someone they don’t like (same)

#32: Laughing hysterically at their own joke

#33: Stuck under the same umbrella

#34: ““Well, this is a nice change of scenery!”

““It’s a jail cell.”

““I was being sarcastic.”

#35: ““Let me just be perfectly clear that this was not my fault.”

#36: ““Can I buy you coffee? For old times sake?”

#37: Fake dating

#38: Huddling for warmth

#39: Being high on painkillers and confessing undying love to everyone

#40: “That’s starting to get annoying.”

#41: “I fell asleep on the bus and woke up here.”

#42: “It’s freaking cold.”

#43: “You’re not exactly known for your great ideas.”

#44: ““Can you keep a secret?”

#45: Character A lives above character B, and always drives B insane with how much stomping they do. One day, A’s foot goes right through the floor, into B’s apartment.

#45: Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.

#46: you’re a security guard at an art gallery and you held the door for me so I left you a note in the door where we met I hope you read it

#47: Person A and Person B both trying to break into the same place on the same night by accident, only to be chased by the police upon meeting and having to hide in a closet/cupboard/safe together until they leave.

#48: the first and the last word they said to each other

#49: your kid hates my kid

#50: ‘picking them up’ hugs

#51: an incredibly loud and painful high-five

#52: "Let me fix that for you."

#53: “Can’t we listen to something else? We’ve been listening to this CD for three hours now.”

“You know, I would but the CD slot is broken so it’s either this or talk to each other.”

“I wouldn’t mind talking.”

“[turns up the music louder]”

#54: "My kiss quota for the day hasn't been filled. I need a thousand more."

#55: Person A making fun of Person B's bed head

#56: Squeeze three times for “I love you”

#57: writing a love letter but keeping it to themselves

#58: Messing around in IKEA

#59: “Hey - what’re you hiding behind your back?”

#60: going to a bookshop and selecting books for each other

#61: smiling at each other from across the room

#62: arms wrapping around your waist from behind while you’re on a phone call

#63: “ rich coming from the guy who tried to kill me three days ago. “

#64: message in a bottle

#65: becoming the parents of the friend group as soon as they start dating

#66: “I love you.”

“Ouch.”

#67: “We...we did it. We did it! Oh my God, I could kiss you.”

“Well, don’t be shy.”

My To-Do List

Here is everything that I’m currently working on! If you’ve sent a request in, and I see it, it should pop up here!

REQUEST SLOTS: FULL

+ Sherlock / Reader (not requested) undetermined topic

+ Rusty Ryan / Reader (not requested) #4

+ Sam Seaborn / Reader (requested) slow dancing

*anything with an asterisks has already been started.

Tag List

@girloncorneliastreet​ for The West Wing

@wolviesbabes​ for Gibbs / Reader

Frequently Asked Questions

How do I submit a request? When you look at my blog, there is a link titled “Asks/Requests”. Click that, and submit something!

How specific does my request have to be? More detail is always better if you’re looking for something specific, but if you’re not picky, it’s no big deal! Even if you just say “could I have some more Spock content please?” I’ll answer it!

Do you write smut? Nope! Not for me.

Are your requests open? Not at the moment! They will be soon, though.

What do I do if your requests are closed? Send it later, when they’re open again!

Do you have a master list? I do! I also have a tag called #masterlist, which all of my work is under. You can access the master list itself by navigating to the page on my blog, or just clicking the link at the top of this post!

What’s your name? You can call me C :)

Why didn’t you reblog my post about social justice? In order to avoid burnout for myself and my followers, I am doing my best to keep this blog free of anything other than fan content. This does not mean that I disagree or agree with you, it just means that I’m not commenting. I do not need to participate in internet social justice activity when I am already an activist on other platforms, including real life.

What can I send asks or messages about? Anything!! Life updates, random questions, whatever! I love to hear from you <3

That’s all, folks!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 5

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, bloodplay, knifeplay, suicidal thoughts.

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself trapped.

Note: So I managed to finish this chapter before work really starts to kick my ass. Just letting y’all know, there will be a part 6 but I have an 11 hour day tomorrow and work straight through to wednesday so I’ll probably be exhausted.

That being said, I appreciate y’all reading and your reactions have been the highlight of writing!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You coughed into the blackness. Your awakening was gradual as you waded through the void and slowly broke the surface of consciousness. Your throat was dry and sore and your head swelled with each breath. You reached to touch the tender flesh along your neck, bruised by the rope which had so violently been strung around it. You only recalled the dread of your suffocation before the world turned dark.

As you moved, bright lights flicked on suddenly and you groaned as your eyes watered. You trembled as you pushed yourself up on the bed. The room was small, just big enough for the large bed and the metal chest secured with a heavy padlock. There was a heavy door with a slot and no handle and another smaller door to your left.

You shimmied to the side of the bed and turned your legs over the edge. You slowly turned as the wall behind the bed stood in contrast to the rest of the sterile white room. Every inch around the low frame, from floor to ceiling, was pasted in images and documents. A startling map of your existence.

Pictures of you in the grocery store, at work, on the train or even in your apartment, spanning years back. There were even a few of your dorm room, long forgotten to the haze of your college years. A transcript of your credits and copies of your resume and even pages of the journal you thought only known to you. The one you’d thought you lost in your move from student to adult. And the drawings; just as you remembered, sickening and horrifying.

You stood, unsteadily, and neared the demented collage. There were other pictures; of women who looked like you; crying, screaming, bleeding. You grabbed one and tore it off the wall. You crumpled it up, unable to look at the woman’s dead eyes.

You flinched as the heavy door jolted suddenly and you turned as it opened. You dropped the picture and pressed yourself to the wall as Bucky entered and the door closed behind him. His blue eyes were predatory and intent on you. His right hand twitched as he cleared his throat.

“Sit,” he said softly.

You gaped at him and shook your head. You quaked as you edged over to the corner as if you could hide there.

“Baby girl…” he warned, “Please, don’t make this difficult. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You grazed your neck with your fingertips and scoffed. The sharp breath scratched your throat and made you wince.

“You made me do that,” he said, “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him. His left hand balled into a fist and he shifted on his feet. Your heart jumped and your lip quivered. Slowly, you pushed yourself away from the wall and neared the bed. You sat sideways against the wall with one leg hanging to the floor. You folded your hands and braced for the unraveling of his wrath.

“Good girl,” he preened. “I just want to talk. That’s all I came for.”

“You’re a murderer,” you rasped, “So just kill me already.”

He smiled and chuckled. He took a breath and ran his fingers through his hair. He neared the end of the bed and gripped his hips.

“If that was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have waited so long.” He said. “All you have to do is listen, baby girl. And if you can do that, I will bring you a treat.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you muttered, “You’re disgusting. You’re…” you shook your head as you couldn’t put into words how he made your stomach twist and churn.

He sniffed and took a deep breath.

“Where were you seven years ago? What were you doing?”

“Looks like you already know,” you paused and tried to clear your sore throat. You coughed and pressed your hands to your neck.

“You were just a student, yes?” He shifted on his feet as he spoke, “Innocent, unaware. Running across campus to get to your next class. So clueless you didn’t even notice the man you collided with. Didn’t notice me with that look in my eyes; distant, determined.”

You frowned, confused. You shrugged. You didn’t remember.

“And what did you think when you heard of what happened to the dean?”

Your heart dropped. You remembered that. It was in the headlines for weeks; the mysterious attack on the dean of criminology. It was revealed that he was a former intelligence officer but it could not be linked substantially to the event. He resigned shortly after and as any new cycle, the story washed itself out.

“You--?”

He sighed and his eyes darkened. “What I was… then. What they made me.”

“I don’t--”

“Shhhh,” he hushed you and neared the bed until his legs touched the mattress. “I was their weapon; a machine. My job was death but that day, their weapon failed. Their weapon was distracted and for that the weapon was reforged, honed, beaten down until it was once more sharp enough to use.”

You shook your head in confused, Your fingers curled until your nails cut into your palms.

“Even when they wiped my mind, you remained. The girl who smiled at me without thought; who apologized and asked if I was okay… Who gave me directions to the right building… never knowing… because she thought I was good.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t know you…”

He held up a finger and tapped his lips. You went silent and watched him.

“When I was free, when I found Bucky again, I found you.” He breathed. “And you were the same. Flitting around without a care. And you ran into me again and you apologized, as you had before, and not a second thought to the man who watched you run for the train. To the man who held the door for you the next day or returned to you the card you dropped on the sidewalk. Always just a smile.”

You touched your cheeks. You remembered the card, some forgotten coffee rewards counter you never used. It came clearer then. His gloves hand holding the cardstock, his blue eyes. It was just another random interaction in the chaotic city. But it wasn’t.

“No…” you shook your head, “But why--”

“You see, the people who corrupted me, their control has nothing to do with what I am. It is a part of me. The soldier, Bucky… one does not exist without the other. Bucky fell in love with you, Bucky wanted you, but the soldier… he didn’t how to help Bucky. How to get you. So he found the girls and he tried to figure it out.”

“Stop. Please. I can’t--”

“But even the soldier couldn’t hurt you,” he put one knee on the bed. “Bucky won’t let him.”

As he placed his other knee on the mattress, you turned to get off the bed. He caught your ankle before you could and pulled you down the bed. He climbed over you and straddled you beneath him. You struck out at him and he stopped your hands, gripping your wrists tightly.

“I told you, I won’t hurt you.” He said softly.

“You are hurting me,” you tried to pull away from him and wiggled beneath him.

“I am trying to help you,” he pushed your hands beside your head, pinning them to the bed. “I only want to love you.” He bent over you and his hot breath tickled your lips. “To feel you.”

“Please, you can’t-- I never-- I’m scared, Bucky. Please don’t hurt me.” You begged. “Please…”

His eyes narrowed and his jaw tensed. He glared at you and pressed his forehead to yours. He let go of your arms and his hands gripped your head instead.

“Listen. I’m not going to hurt you,” he growled. “But I will if you make me.”

You stared at him, paralysed beneath him. He squeezed your head until it pulsed then pushed himself up suddenly. He climbed off of you, jostling the bed, and scanned the wall of photos. He lowered his chin and nodded.

“Take your clothes off.” He said.

You stayed as you were, stunned and scared. He looked at you slowly and his lips curled.

“Do it or I will.” He warned.

You sat up. You were numb as you skirted to the edge of the bed and pulled your tee over your head. He snatched it from you and you stood to unbutton your jeans. You rolled them down and he took them in turn. You struggled to unhook your bra as you trembled and he spun you sharply. He snapped the clasp and the fabric fell away from your chest. He gathered it up and tore your panties just as easily. He even bent to take your socks as they sat balled on the floor.

You tried to cover yourself as you turned back to him. He marched to the door and stopped. He looked back at you and gritted his teeth.

“Good girl,” he smirked and then turned around and looked above the door. 

A small lens sat above the frame and the door unlocked. He opened it with his foot and sent you one last glance before he pulled it shut. You slumped onto the bed and folded your legs against your chest. There was only the sheet stretched across the mattress and a single pillow. You shivered and hung your head.

You felt the eyes of all the dead women behind you. Felt the weight of their souls. And yet you were horribly alone.

👁️

Shortly after he left you, a tray was slid through the slot in the door. You ignored it at first but your stomach began to ache as the hours dripped by. You took the tray and rested it on the foot of the bed as you sat carefully. You took a long gulp from the bottle of water and the muscles of your neck reminded you of your assault.

The sandwich was cut neatly in half; ham and cheese with mustard. You chewed it without tasting and emptied the cup of applesauce. That was all you could manage and you set the tray in the corner.

The other door, the smaller one, opened up to a small booth. A toilet and sink only. You refused to be thankful for anything but were relieved to have at least that.

You hugged the pillow for much of the time. Your only shield against the cold and your nudity. You dozed off for a little, a shallow, distraught slumber.

You were awoken by the door. You sat up dizzily and stared at the figure as it cleared in your vision. The lights were dimmer as Bucky moved around. He went to the metal chest and opened the lock. You pulled the pillow to you as he closed the lid and plopped a roll atop it.

He turned to you and you cowered as he knelt on the bed. Wordlessly, he pulled on your arm until it bent painfully away from the pillow. You fought with him as he dragged it to the top corner.

“What are you doing?” You whined. “Please, don’t--”

You choked on your voice as he pulled up a leather cuff over the mattress. He wrapped it around your wrist despite your struggles and buckles it.

“Bucky, Bucky, please--”

He hushed you and grabbed your other arm. You kicked you as he forced you onto your back and shook the whole bed as he secured your other wrist. You hit his shoulder with your heel before he grabbed your left ankle and tied in down before he did the same to the right. You were stuck, stretched across the bed, writhing and whimpering as he backed away.

“What--”

“Baby girl,” he tapped his fingers atop the metal chest. “I don’t want to gag you… You have such a pretty mouth.”

You grunted and tugged on your binds. It was pointless. Even if you got loose, there was no way out of this room, no escape from this monster. Your eyes drifted to the wall above you and you closed them against the sight of the tortured women. Would he do the same to you?

You heard a clink and your eyes snapped open. You looked over at the knives that lined the fabric roll and you sobbed. You let out a pathetic squeal that slowly built to a scream.

“Please, please, please!” You shouted. “Don’t do this!”

“Baby girl,” he hummed as he dragged his fingers over the blades. “I told you, you’re safe with me.”

He turned and his eyes roved over your body. He let out a thick breath and grabbed the bottom of his shirt. He pulled it over his head and let it heap on the floor. His gaze clung to you as he undid his belt and pushed his pants down. He forced his boots off as he stepped out of his jeans and his socks went with them. He undressed methodically, never looking away from you.

You grunted as you tried desperately to free yourself. This animal, this monster, was coming for you.

He went to the chest and slid a knife from the row. You bounced in frustration on the bed and shook your head. No, no, no, this couldn’t happen. His weight caused the bed to dip as he lowered himself between your legs. He looked up at you as he pressed the cold blade to your thigh. You squeaked and bit down.

“You see, if one doesn’t know what they’re doing then it’s difficult to know what cuts will kill and which won’t,” he slithered. “But if they do, they know how much pressure, what angle,” he pushed the point down and you felt it pierce your skin, “where to cut… just for a taste. That’s all.”

He sliced along your thigh, a shallow but painful cut. You cried out and he did the same to your other leg. Your feet arched as your muscles tensed and you pulled against the cuffs.

The warmth of your blood was met by the heat of his mouth. You gasped as lapped at the flow and smeared it over your skin as he edged closer to your cunt. You grasped at air as your fingers curled and uncurled. You let out pathetic noises as he pressed his thumb to the slice along your other thigh.

He purred as he brushed his tongue along your pussy. He pushed carefully between your folds and you gulped. The tingle it sent through you had your heart hammering. He spread his hand over your thigh and his other gripped your hip as his tongue teased you. 

He sucked on your clit as his hand slipped further up. You pushed your head down into the mattress as you felt a storm of hot and cold fill your core. He needed to stop. He had to stop. You couldn’t feel like this. It was wrong. He trapped you, he cut you, and now he was toying with you.

He traced two fingers along the crease of your thighs and pushed against your entrance. You moaned and he dipped them inside slowly. He stretched you around his vibranium digits until his knuckles were pressed to your cunt. He curled his fingers and moved them in time with his tongue.

You bared your teeth as you tried to resist the instinctual response of your body. The way your core pulsed and buzzed without your consent. You whined as he brought you closer and closer to your peak. Between your mewls, one word was clear; ‘no, no, no.” 

You went rigid as the waves rolled over you and your climax overwhelmed your fear. He urged you through it, his fingers working into you quickly as your sighs turned to sobs. He didn’t stop until you were shaking and wincing against his touch.

He raised his head and drew his fingers from inside you. You looked down at him, his beard and nose stained red. Your stomach flipped and your fear spiked once more. He took the knife from beside your leg and backed off the bed. His cock bobbed with each step as he went to the chest and unsheathed another blade.

He returned to you. This time he moved to straddle you as he turned the knife in his hand. He admired the sheen of the metal and poked your lips with the tip. He trailed over your chin and traced the line of your cheek. His blue eyes sparkled as he teased you.

“You’re beautiful…” he breathed, “I could never ruin that face.”

He brought the blade to your neck and lingered on the still tender flesh. He continued on to your chest and circled your nipples. His hand cupped one tit as the knife played with the other. He moved his hips and grinded against you.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. He hovered the knife below your clavicle and turned the tip to your skin. He split the flesh slowly along the centre of your chest, a red line rising between your breast. Again, it was shallow, enough to bleed, enough to make you sick.

He set the knife down on the mattress and his fingers crawled along the incision. Your torn skin stung at his touch and he bent over you. He traced the line with his tongue and lifted his head. He pressed his hot lips to yours and forced his tongue inside. You tasted the metallic taint of your own blood and groaned.

His chest rubbed against your and you felt the warmth as it spread across his skin. His hand felt around as he lifted his pelvis and moved his knee between your legs. He slickened his fingers with your blood and once more began to play with your cunt. You squirmed and tried to turn your head away from him. He bit down on your lip and shoved his fingers inside of you.

“Baby girl,” He drew away, “You’re ready for me.”

“No--” He pulled his fingers out of you and his hand came up to wrap around your neck and he shushed you once more.

His eyes bore into yours as he angled his hips. He shifted as his tip poked along your cunt. He slowly pressed against you until he slipped inside. You grunted and bit down on your lip. You shook your head as his hand grew tighter. He eased into you an inch at a time and your eyes rolled back as he reached his limit.

He sighed as he moved his thighs flush to yours. His heavy breaths filled your ears as he began to rock. He thrust into you carefully, relishing in each long stroke. He hummed as he kept a steady rhythm. You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to resist the burgeoning swell in your core.

He moved fast and pushed himself up, his hand still on your neck, nearly crushing your windpipe. His other hand stretched across the gash on your chest and he slammed into you harder and harder. The clap of his flesh echoed through the room as the blood from your thighs seeped onto his.

The bed quaked beneath your bodies as he pounded into you, his voice rising with each tilt of his hips. Your own breathy moans floated in the air and knotted in your chest.

“Baby girl,” he growled, “Fuck, you feel so good… you taste so good.”

He lifted his hand from your chest and you opened your eyes. He licked your blood from his hand, his left still firmly at your throat.

“You’re gonna look so pretty,” he touched the cut again and played with your blood. His chest was marked with red and it trickled down his muscled stomach as he hammered into you. “This is gonna be a pretty little mark, isn’t it?”

You gnashed your teeth and turned your head. You stared at the blank wall as your thighs tensed against his. You gasped as your orgasm rose violently and your body spasmed.

Bucky let go of your neck and grabbed the knife. Your eyes followed the blade and he pressed it along his chest and cut into his left peck. He stilled as the blood leaked from his flesh and he put the knife aside once more. He coated his fingers in his blood and wiped them across your lips. He forced his way inside your mouth and began to fuck you again.

He lowered himself over you. He slipped his fingers from your mouth and grabbed your chin. He kissed you deeply, tasting the mix of your blood. He pulled away as he began to pant and rutted into you without relent. He snarled and pressed his lips to your cheek.

“You feel that, baby girl,” he rasped, “Hmm, you’re going to make me cum. You want it inside of you?”

“Please--” you whispered.

“I’m gonna fill you up, baby girl. Over and over--” He jerked his hips with each word, “And over-- and over--”

He hissed and thrust into as deep as he could. He spasmed and rolled his hips as his cum spilled into you. He slowed and let his weight down onto you. You could feel his heart pounding in his chest and your own beat loudly in your ears.

“Over and over… baby girl,” he murmured and flinched. He slid his arm up under you and slowly moved his hips. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

👁️

You were in a daze when Bucky finally untied you. He left you limp across the bed as he packed up the knives and locked them away. He sat lightly on the edge of the bed with a wet cloth and began to wipe away the blood from your cuts. You winced but only closed your eyes and waited for it to be over.

Your entire body hurt. You lost count of how many times he’d fucked you. He cut you again on your thighs and under your breasts. You were caked in your own blood and sweat. He washed you gently and you let him. You hoped he would go when he finished.

He stood and you heard the heavy lid of the chest again. He returned to you and wiped each cut; the alcohol tickled your nostrils and burned your skin. The bleeding had mostly stopped but he bandaged each carefully. The crumple of wrappers and the tinny clasp of metal. He rose again and the padlock was snapped shut.

“You have to keep yourself clean, baby girl,” he said. “I’ve left some bandages and wipes out for you. I’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

You ignored him and rolled onto your side painfully. You shivered and hugged yourself. You’d wait for him to leave before you cried. You listened to him dress. He hadn’t cleaned himself up. Your blood was still smeared over his face.

“Good night, baby girl.” He looked at you for a moment. “Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?”

You didn’t answer and just stared at the wall.

“It’s okay, baby girl,” he cooed as his footsteps neared the door, “It’ll take some time… but we both felt how much you liked it.”

The door opened and clunked behind him. Your eyes pricked and you closed them as the tears began to fall. You grabbed the pillow and hugged it as your entire body was wracked with sobs.

You wished he had cut you deeper. You wished he had just killed you. There was no other way out.

[justanotherteentitansblog]

Bbrae Week Day 3 Into the Woods

There are giants in the sky! There are big tall terrible giants in the sky! 

The changeling had his nose buried in the score as he attempted to read the music in front of him. ‘Funny’ Raven thought, ‘I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen him reading something other than a comic book’ 

When you’re way up high and you look below at the world you’ve left and the things you’ve known, little more than a glance is enough to show you just how small you are! 

Raven hated admitting it to herself but dear god she loved his singing voice. He had this sexy tenor that was like honey to the ears. She could listen to him sing for hours and never get bored. Her favorite music was anything he sang, but she’d rather die than ever let him in on that. 

When you’re way up and you’re on your own 

In a world like none that you’ve ever known

Where the sky is lead and the earth is stone 

You’re free to do whatever pleases you

Exploring things you’ve never dared 

Cause you don’t care when suddenly there’s a big tall terrible giant at the door. 

Stupid Robin and this stupid theater that’s closing down. If Robin hadn’t made such a huge deal out of trying to save the theater Raven would never be in this mess. 

A big tall terrible lady giant sweeping the floor 

Raven was just glad she could keep her cloak on for the role at least for most of the first act, she didn’t know if she was ready to face an audience without it. 

And she gives you food and she gives you rest and she draws you close to her giant breast and you know things now that you never knew before 

A Teen Titans production of the show, into the woods. Super. Raven didn’t even know she could sing up until auditions. She had never really tried before and once she did, she kind of blew everyone away, herself included. 

Not til the sky

“Ok good work, you’ve obviously been practicing but next time hold out sky for a little longer, you’re cutting it short and you should be taking a big enough breath after before to be able to sustain that.” The music director, Dan, reminded Garfield. 

“Thanks dude! I’ll work on it!” 

“I know you will, that’s why I don’t hate you,” Dan nodded. 

Raven liked Dan, he didn’t pussyfoot around. 

Dan turned on the piano bench to face Raven motioning her to come forward with his fingers. 

Nevermind, she actually hated Dan. 

She sighed and slumped her shoulders trudging to the piano like a child being sent to timeout. She threw her hood over her face to hide the blush coloring her cheeks before Dan interrupted. 

“Your character doesn’t have their hood on at this part of the show!” 

‘Fuck you Dan’ Raven thought pulling her hood down. 

“Ok top of measure 55, here is your starting note and…..go” 

Careful the things you say

Children will listen 

Careful the things you do children will see

Gar regarded Raven’s tense form. She was nervous, and she didn’t want to make a fool out of herself in front of an audience. 

And Learn

Too bad she had probably the biggest role in the whole damn show, The witch. 

Children may not obey

But children will listen

The role really was very fitting for her. Maybe not the rap about produce but everything else about the role was very...Raven. 

Children will look to you for which way to turn

To learn what to be

If only someone could just show her how to relax into a character and just be natural in it, then it wouldn’t be so painful for her. 

Careful before you say, Listen to me

Wait! He was someone! He could definitely show her how to get into character, and you know a little extra alone time with her wouldn’t be such a terrible thing now would it? 

Children will listen….

Dan turned to Raven, “How do you think that went?” 

“Well I was pitchy on measure 75 and I think I got off tempo towards the end, also my voice cracked at measu-” 

Dan raised his hand to silence the girl, “No, you’re singing was perfect, the real issue is that you need to relax. You know what you’re doing so just let yourself do it without judgement.” 

Raven glowered at the music director, “Easier said than done, Dan.” 

After rehearsal, Raven gathered her things in her bag and was headed towards the stage door when a familiar voice called out. 

“Hey, wait, Raven!” 

“What do you want, Gar?” 

“I think I know how to help you with your stage fright, that is if you want my help.” 

Raven breathed a sigh of relief, “You don’t know how much I would love that, thank you” 

Gar chuckled, “Well you’re gonna love the means of how we’re gonna do it even more.” 

Raven was amused, “Oh?” 

“Yep, I’m gonna show you how to meditate like an actor.” 

Later in Raven’s room she had sat on her floor cross legged waiting for instructions from her teammate. 

“Ok start with deep breaths in and out. In….Out….In” 

Raven smiled despite herself, for him to give her instruction on deep breathing when she meditated everyday, it was almost laughable, but she complied. 

He guided her through a simple grounding exercise and once she was fully grounded he began speaking again, “Now I want you to imagine you’re in a cottage in a forest…” 

Ah, so this was a guided meditation, this she could handle easily. 

“Now this is your cottage and your home, understand? Around your cottage is a huge garden, full of beautiful greenery. Can you see it?” 

“Yes” 

“Spend a few moments admiring your garden, truly soak it in.” 

She did as instructed. 

“Now I want you to imagine you hear a sound somewhere in the garden, I want you to move towards the sound.” 

Raven found herself wandering a maze of vegetation in her mind’s eye until she found the source of the sound. A man in her garden. Not just any man but her neighbor stealing her vegetables! She tended that garden with every fiber of her being and the fact that someone she said hello to every morning was stealing from her, it felt violating. She was furious, she could’ve laid a spell on him right there! She could’ve turned him into stone, or a dog, or a chair…

Raven popped an eye open realizing what was happening, “Is this guided meditation based on the witch’s story in the show?” 

“Yes, now get back into it!” 

Raven shut her eyes and let her mind sink back into the story. 

Her neighbor was begging for forgiveness but she knew it would happen again if she didn’t do something to keep him away. She had been lonely and barren all her life and having always wanted a child of her own, she was envious of the baker’s pregnant wife. She offered the baker a second chance at life for the baby growing in his wife’s womb. The baker reluctantly agreed before climbing over the garden wall, but as soon as he had left the sanctity of her walls...BANG FLASH, LIGHTNING CRASH! She watched as her hands shrunk and withered into the hands of an old crone. Raven ran to a small stream that ran through her garden to look at her reflection and much to her horror and dismay a 90 year old woman’s face stared back. 

Raven sat up and screamed out of the meditation jolting Beast Boy backwards. 

“Raven, are you ok?”

“Meditation is supposed to relax you Gar, not send you horrific images.” 

“Yeah sure but...how do you feel about the baker now?” 

Raven’s eyes glowed red at the mention of the name. “Oh I don’t care what it takes, I’m getting my face back and somehow making him pay for it in the process!” 

Raven paused, confused at her own words, “What was that?” 

“That was you finally being in character.” Gar smiled up at his friend. 

“Ok but you said that you were going to help me with stage fright, not character development.” 

“I did, Rae. Now when you go on stage, you’re not going to be thinking about the audience, you’re going to be thinking about what a rat bastard that baker is and how you’re going to make him pay. You’re going to think about how everyone sees you as the bad guy because you’re the witch when really you’re the victim in the show. You’re going to think about how much you love Rapunzel and you’re not ready for her to grow up yet. All the characters on stage, they’re not in front of an audience they’re just living their lives, it’s our jobs as the actors to give a venue to tell their stories.” 

Raven was floored, since when did he get so...wise? 

“That was a very impressive speech, Garfield.” 

“Yeah well, you know, can’t be stupid all the time,” he shrugged. 

“A slotted spoon can catch the potato..” 

“See? Now you’re in the spirit of the show.” 

Color flooded Raven’s face as she stood to meet her friend at the door. 

“Thank you Gar, I don’t know what I would’ve done without your help.” she leaned up and planted a kiss on his cheek. 

Gar’s emerald skin met red as he flushed at the contact, “Uh, wait. What? Did you just?” 

“Best to take the moment present, as a present for the moment” she said, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for another kiss. 

[fe-semi-decent-scenarios]

How do the BL students cope with missing their s/o? (like they're on a mission or something and won't be back for a long time) Bonus points for including how they react to seeing them again lol. Congrats on the big 100 btw

[Thank you! This is a little late but I was amazed to see so many people reading these posts.I’m pretty proud of this one.I wrote this as a ‘first time they’re apart’ kind of scenario. Hope it is to your liking! :3]

Dimitri: 

Karma really does bite, and boy does it do so hard

More often than not it is Dimitri leaving you behind for missions. Being the leader of the Lions meant that he was stationed at almost every important battle. Sometimes you’d join, and others the professor would decide to have someone else take up arms. No biggie, you know? He never complained since it guaranteed your safety.  

He didn’t even think of the possibility of a role reversal. One where you’d be sent out while he’s left behind. Up until now he was always by your side, but Manuela knew his limits better than anyone. She insisted he take the month off to rest. 

Once again, no biggie. He’d much rather be productive but with some convincing he easily gave in. Everyone departed for the monthly mission and he decided to invest some of the extra time on his hands into an evening with you 

He was about to search for you, but then memory did it’s job.

“Ah, that’s right. They departed with their battalion this morning...”

Dimitri wasn’t used to the silence of an empty Monestary. Was it always this hollow when the army was deployed? There were some people, yes. However most areas appeared almost lifeless. 

It brought up some unpleasant memories to say the least. Ones of a dusk castle, strangers on every corner, empty dinner tables, and cold nights spent staring up from his balcony. 

The time he spends without Dedue glued to his side is full of reflection. Once he’s trained, eaten, studied up, etc. He’ll stroll around the monastery and think of what his life has become 

How fragile the peace is. How much longer will it last?  

He wanted to talk with someone. The silence was deafening and he wished for a distraction before the voices made their appearance. 

They did.

He wished for you to come home. Despite the voices screaming that he had no right to long for your comfort, the desire still remained.  

 Was it the same for you when he’d depart? This...lonely? 

He hoped not. 

Since when had Dimitri become assimilated to the daily nonsense that was his life? 

Dedue had caught on to his highness’ feelings instantly. Dimitri was more reminiscent than usual, and often his walks would take him to your room. He wouldn’t enter, just look at the door as if expecting it to open. He wasn’t one to talk of the past as it made him uncomfortable, but sometimes Dedue would catch him smiling at nothing. It was a welcome change to have happy memories. 

When you come home it’s as if Dimitri has a new aura. Well, maybe not entirely but he has a more solemn look in his eyes when they meet yours. He spends the first day being caught up on politics with the Professor and Seteth, but for many nights beyond the return he seeks your company 

He wants to hear your voice. The one he craved for when the silence became intolerable 

“I’ve returned my beloved, would you care to tell that story from the other night again? I know it has only been one day but I would love to hear it.” 

Dedue: 

Time alone with you was already a rarity, so your complete absence didn’t dieter him as much as one would think. Dedue’s schedule rarely has a slot for free-time, and so the days pass on like seconds 

As long as there is no specific reason to worry then he refrains from doing so. Dedue genuinely believes in your strength and capabilities so he won’t needlessly fret over nothing. He has his own duties to attend to just as you do. 

However, this doesn’t mean he feels nothing on the matter. Others can gossip about him all they want but his nationality doesn’t define his personality. Not that he cares, since his stone exterior hides signs of weakness 

Let’s get this straight: he does miss you. While not in surplus, your time together is precious to him. He notices how your seat is empty during lessons and meetings. He unconsciously checks the training hall’s door during his regime, impatiently waiting for you to pop in and say your daily ‘hello’. He’s painfully aware of the extra pair of gardening gloves in his tool pail. Dedue knows that you are gone and it has an impact. 

He just ignores it. Dedue knows that when duty calls it must come before personal issues. Even if there is no contact between you two, he would rather no letters than one relaying distress 

If his highness asks about his feelings Dedue’s replies are short and curt. He does not wish for any worry or pity. 

One small sign that Dedue is off-put is that he becomes forgetful. It’s something only those who know him well can pick up on. For example: he won’t bring any writing utensils to a meeting. To a stranger this is a common mishap that happens to everyone. Only people who know Dedue well will see that someone as responsible as him wouldn’t forget something so minute 

Another is the short sighs he lets out. Nothing drawn out or dramatic, just quick puffs of air through the nose- kind of like a huff. They’re very difficult to catch and are a habit when he feels impatient or restless 

The day you come home isn’t a large extravaganza. Prince Dimitri accompanies him to greet the returning troops, but it doesn’t take a wise man to see that he mainly came for moral support. You were his friend as well, and he also wanted to see Dedue happy. 

When you come into sight Dedue approaches as if it’s a normal day. Your appearance is a bit too worn-down for his liking, and he says so. He asks if the journey went well, and whether it did or not he gives a minuscule smile 

If you return it he’ll pat your head. A welcome home, if you will 

“Come. Let us speak of the time we were apart. I would like to hear of your travels” 

Felix:

Simple solution. Whenever Felix feels as if he’s missing your presence he’ll go find you. 

Oh wait 

He can’t lmao 

It doesn’t hit him how big your role is in his life until you’re forced to be apart. All it took was a few days for Felix to feel like something was missing

At first he’s in denial. What is he, a child? A grown man doesn’t need someone to lean on, or keep him company, or check on him...or to give him encouragement......make him laugh....listen to his problems............okay. Maybe he does. 

At the beginning he seems put together but gradually as the days go on Felix becomes socially intolerant. The only person he wants to talk with is you, and you’re not there. Anyone else can buzz off or they’re getting snapped at

No one says anything either. Sometimes you can’t when the only solution is so far away 

Felix works extra hard when you’re gone. No one’s there to force much needed breaks onto him. From morning till dusk he’ll train and only stop for meals.

It’s his distraction. Every time that familiar pang shows up the training dummy gets another slice 

What’s happened to him? He was never so dependent on another person. Yeah, he has people that he cares about but their presence was never a necessity in his life 

The pain only intensifies as he thinks of what you’re doing, the dangers you’re facing, other (men/women) making you smile-

Oh....Oh no. Dear god he’s in love que the dummy’s head being sliced off

He’s waiting in your room on the day you get back. You’ll walk in to see him reading at your desk, only for the book to snap shut when you open the door 

A bit roughly he’ll pull you in for a hug. Not too tight, if you wanted to escape it you could

“Look. I’ll only say this once so you better listen...don’t leave for that long ever again. If you have to then I’m going with. No arguments”        

Ashe:

He’s fine. It’s okay. Ten days in and life goes on, you know? Today he played with some of the stray cats in the monastery like he normally would. The only off part was that he forgot to bring fish treats, normally you’d do that. 

Then he ordered some sweet buns for dessert after dinner; it was his usual order on your rare dates. Those days you’d snatch one but this time they were all his

He had them in the garden with some mint tea and watched the sun set. The last time he did that you decided to braid his hair while he told bad puns about his patchy facial hair fiasco. This time he viewed in tranquil silence 

Later in the evening he practiced archery to unwind. Lately Caspar agreed to be his training partner with you gone. He’d collect the arrows shot and help reposition the targets. You would normally do the same and in turn Ashe would wake up extra early to help you in the morning. 

At night he curled up in bed with “Loog and the Maiden of Wind,” picking up from where he left off. It was easy since you had given him a copy with a built-in cloth bookmark for his birthday. He loves it to pieces. 

Please come home When his eyes began to feel heavy he tucked it under his pillow for the day. 

Under the covers he shifted to get comfortable, and just like every night he ended up cuddling one of his pillows 

How much longer 

He closed his eyes 

....

..........

What was taking so long? The professor never mentioned that the journey would take weeks? There haven’t been letters either...

Where are you? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Are you eating properly? Are you sleeping right? He should have asked Seteth to let him accompany you. Are you on your way home? Should he go ask? No, it’s late. Asking now would be a bother-

 He misses you so much. No amount of time spent absorbing himself in different hobbies makes the discomfort in his chest go away. Everything reminds him of you. 

When you come home he’s front and center at the gate. The professor had taken pity on the boy (courtesy of Flayn’s plea) and arranged his schedule to be free all day. He spent it chatting with gatekeeper until troops appeared in the distance 

The moment you’re in sight he’s skipping down the stairs and greets you with the warmest embrace. The second you pull back he’s peppering kisses on your cheeks. 

“You’re back! I’ve missed you so much I can’t even begin to explain. Let’s go eat dinner and you can tell me all about the trip” 

Sylvain:

Is it weird that with you gone Sylvain actually begins to be a productive human being?

He spends the newfound spare time at the stables with the horses, or helping with chores around the monastery. Very rarely is he found goofing off 

Weird. Most would expect him to let loose considering how you have him on a ‘ball and chain,’ as he puts it 

So???? How come he chooses now to be responsible. 

Simple. He only acts rebellious to get a rise out of you

Just kidding lol. Only partially

While he does get a free show out of your nagging, it isn’t the reason he behaves like that. Neither why he’s suddenly ‘turned over a new leaf’

Sylvain highly respects you. Not only do you work hard but you’re also one of the most genuine people he knows. He’ll never say it to your face but before he loved you Sylvain looked to you as a role model. He never could have imagined that someone with such an authentic set of emotions would become his partner 

He also puts you through hell with all the trouble he gets in. Anyone else would have ended the relationship by now with so many FALSE rumors of adultery on his end. Yet you never gave up on him.  

In short, you’ve stood by him through thick and thin. From daily mess ups to the more deeper problems. You’ve been a major pillar that he leans on.

So that’s what he’s going to be for you. While you’re away he’s going to pick up the slack and make sure there’re no messes waiting for you to come home to 

Just him and maybe a few snide jokes. You know, a couple of dramatic whines about all the trouble he went to in making sure your room stayed clean 

Sometimes it gets difficult to turn down the invites from his peers, but he holds strong. The change is so drastic that Byleth even jokes about sending you away more often. 

He takes it with a grain of salt. They’d never exploit their students like that and he knows it 

When you arrive home he’s waiting patiently in your room. In one arm there’s a blanket and in the other a feather duster c’mon he has to make this believable

“Well there’s the (man/woman) of the hour. Do you realize the horrors that I’ve endured these past weeks? I cleaned this room EVERY DAY. You owe me big time!”  

Sylvain demands that for all the worry, strife, and hard labor you put him through; he deserves an afternoon nap with his partner. Will you let him slack off?

Annette: 

Busy, busy, busy!!!

She has so many chores to get done, books to read, people to talk to, and songs to sing 

She hated to say goodbye, but eventually you’ll come home. This isn’t like before. You’re not like him. 

Annette trusts you

She loves you 

While you’re gone she’ll think of all the things you can do together when you get back. What’s a better way to use the time, right? 

She 100% plans to blackmail you into treating her for lunch. How could you leave her behind to watch over everyone by herself? So cruel...

There are mild worries that fill her heart. Thoughts on your health for one. Whether you’re skilled in faith or not it doesn’t matter to her. 

She kind of wishes that the professor scheduled her to fight as well. However, things were better this way.

Annette will make sure you have somewhere wonderful to return to 

She even writes a small ‘welcome home’ jingle! Anything to bring out your smile 

People will occasionally ask how she’s holding up. After all, if Annette doesn’t worry about herself then of course others will do it for her. 

And yeah. Sometimes it does get rough. She’s human and naturally her partner means the world to her. Who the hell would be okay with sending their loved one away? 

It’s just that if she isn’t optimistic than who will be. Who’s going to give you encouragement when you need it most? Isn’t that what being a couple is about? To have faith and believe in each other? 

That’s why she’s okay. She’ll sing those fear demons away and take comfort in knowing you’ll come home with everyone else

And when you do she’s there with a few of your favorite flowers. She’ll congratulate you on a job well done whether the battle was a win or lose, and literally force you into her dorm to talk the hours away.

“Welcome home! I had plenty of time on my hands while you were away so I wrote a small song...i-if it’s okay then can I sing it for you? I promise it’s not about tasty cakes this time haha!” 

Mercedes:

The daily church hymn lifts her spirits. Mercedes’ devout faith is what supports her during moments of weakness 

You’ve probably guessed this, but every day you’re in her prayers. 

Not that you weren’t before, but now she spends a little more time mulling over possibilities of danger. Some extra blessings couldn’t hurt either 

She does find her thoughts trailing over to you often as well. Not anything negative but instead the happier memories. Saying goodbye was a rough blow when realization hit that your return date wasn’t definite 

Alas, the goddess will protect you. Mercedes steels herself to be patient and invest her energy into more productive things 

Mercedes is sort of like the big sister of all her friends. The doting type. Without you around she has all this pent up affection, and the lions get the blunt end of it

They’re an outlet that she uses to distract herself from not having you around. Not that they necessarily mind it (maybe Felix but he’ll get over it)

The time she’d spend with you is used to bake for the monastery children, or help with chores. She uses it wisely and also works on some of her own hobbies. 

You may or may not find some well-stitched embroidery on your socks. She goes all out and even offers to help mend Dimitri’s battle-worn cape. That thing needed a literal miracle to return to it’s former glory 

Life isn’t much different aside from your lack of presence. With each day she finds herself looking forward to your return, and occasionally she’ll inquire with the professor about it. Mercedes is known for her patience, and it truly is a virtue in many cases. Definitely in this one. 

When note of your future return arrives she can’t help but smile. If allowed she’ll ask to read the letter of notification herself and will do so with incredible focus. She’ll clutch one hand to her chest in relief before giving it back and leaving to return to her duties 

and so it goes until your return. She might not be able to come meet you at the gate, but at first sighting she’ll engulf you in an embrace. 

After a once-over for any injuries, she’ll insist that you have tea together. Hell, Mercedes would be happy if you two could just chat together on the nearest bench. There’s so much to talk of and now you two have all the time in the world 

“It’s so nice to see you again! Oh my...it feels like forever since I have seen you smile. I almost forgot how contagious is is haha” 

Ingrid: 

If it was up to Ingrid than she would be positioned right at your side. You two work well as a duo both on and off of the field. The army would benefit from your skills being magnified as a team 

She also wouldn’t have to deal with this ungodly sense of dread in the pit of her stomach. Don’t misunderstand- Ingrid isn’t the protective type. She trusts in your capabilities both as a fighter and person. It’s only that being away for so long is a rarity, and she needs time to adjust. 

She’d just have to trust in the other people stationed at your side to do what she can’t  

If she knows any of them personally then Ingrid 100% approaches to ask that they watch your back 

That takes care of any worry, but not of the crack in her daily life 

Ingrid has much on her shoulders. Her family, Fargeus’ future, her friends, what food’s being served in the dining hall, if it tastes good or not, the church, the ‘flame emperor’, and you of course.

She’s also the type of person who likes uniformity: a schedule. You’re a part of that and being so far disrupts it. She’s afraid that her personal emotions will tap into her ability to fulfill her duties  

Everyone else assures her otherwise. Ingrid is known for always giving 110% so a while of just 100% is no big deal. She is allowed to be human 

She’s allowed to miss you. Her friends assure her of it 

She’s allowed to worry. There’s no need to sear shut her fears. After losing Glenn...well, it’s understandable. 

She’s allowed to ask for news updates. The professor has encouraged this. 

She’s allowed to go in your room if she needs alone time. You said so before leaving. 

However, Ingrid doesn’t allow herself those comforts until days after your departure. When you said goodbye it unsettled her stomach in more ways than one. It took some time to sort through her emotions while still maintaining her responsibilities

It took everything for Ingrid to move on from the past, and this experience set in a sense of gratitude for all that she’s been given. It also was an opportunity for her to reminisce over what she has lost, and still has to do. 

Needless to say, when you return Ingrid has gained a newfound confidence and comfort in not having a set schedule for life. Everything has always felt as if it needed to be rushed, but meeting you wasn’t something she had planned nor sped into. Spending some time to focus on her own personal goals aside from the ones preset for her before birth aided in Ingrid coming to terms with that. 

“Hello. It’s been so long that I hardly recognize you! What? It’s a joke!...Yes, I know how to tell jokes- hold on this is supposed to be a heartfelt reunion so don’t ruin it!” 

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [3]

Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 3.5 OR Chapter 4

➜ Words: 3.5k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Jungkook didn’t know this is how his night would turn out.   The cold night air bites at his skin, turning his cheeks rosy. His finger presses the button and there’s clinking and clanking before the aluminum can comes rolling at the bottom slot of the vending machine. He takes it from the slot and walks over to the wooden bench.   “Here.”   You’re sniffling, your entire body jolting as you do so. You take the cold grape soda with both hands, and hold it in your lap. He hopes you like it — he saw you drinking grape soda once back in high school.   Slowly, Jungkook takes a seat beside you. It’s terribly awkward for him, and he’s not sure what to do. The sounds of your sniffling shatters the silence of the night.   “You know….” He clears his throat. “People always break up with their first girlfriends or boyfriends.” Jungkook steals a glance at you. Tears are still slipping from your tear ducts, shedding down the apples of your cheeks. “And, uh, first loves don’t usually last. Even if it did, the divorce rate is pretty high, so, um, uh...yeah.”   Your sniveling is violent as if you’re trying hard to keep it at bay. He scratches the back of his neck, mind scrambling for ways to comfort you.   “You either get married or break up, so I guess he didn’t see you as the marriage type.” It’s the shittiest advice ever. Jungkook is at least self-aware enough to know just how bad his attempt at consoling you is, but it tumbles out of his mouth anyway with the half of the brain cell he has left. “You guys weren’t that great of a couple anyways—”   You burst out crying. Again.    This time the sobbing is louder, harder. Uncontrollable. It makes Jungkook look in all directions to make sure no one’s here lest they call the police and accuse him of harming you somehow.   “I...I love him!” you manage to say past your sobs, voice breaking in the process. It’s heart wrenching, though nothing but the truth. In this second, you’re so utterly vulnerable that it makes him entirely uncomfortable. “I l-love Jin. S-s...so m-much.”   You’re shaking with gut-wrenching sobs. Grief pours out in a flood and salt water creeps from your eyes. You whimper, “I thou—ght I was going to m-marry him, J-J-Jungkook.” The boy beside you doesn’t like the way you call his name, how you’re crying when you say it, how you’re blubbering. “Next month was supposed—….supposed to be our...two year anniversary.”   Jungkook has the urge to wipe off the flour stain on your forehead. But as he contemplates if he should or shouldn’t, he loses his opportunity. You tilt your chin to look at the sky, stain out of way as tears spring free down your cheeks.    You sniffle, “I really, r-really love him.”   Jungkook leans in.    He wraps his arms around your shoulders. He pulls you in close and hugs you tight. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but this is probably the least he can do. What his intuition tells him to do.    He feels you tremble against him until you stop. “W-what are you doing?”   “Umm…”   “Get off of me,” you spit at him half-heartedly and he lets go as if he’s burning you.   You’re back to sobbing again.   Jungkook is at a complete loss.   You were better as a bitch or at least easier to handle. It’s horrifying when you’re crying.

The cake burns in the oven. Jungkook can see the smoke curling into the air. He can smell it as it singes off his nose hairs. And he takes it out with mitts, coughing and wheezing, throwing the charcoaled tray on the kitchen counter. He turns to the person responsible.   “Were you not watching it?!”   “Fuck you, Johnson.”   “Why didn’t you set a timer?!”   “Why didn’t you?!”   “Because I wasn’t the one who put it into the oven!” He shouts, “Are you an idiot?!”   You’re looking at him what that infamous frown — those lopsided lips, that knot between your brows that makes your anger tangible. He watches the way you open your mouth to retort...but the hesitation is visible. And in shock, he then watches the way your expression crumples.   His gut feeling tells him this isn’t right. He steps back. But then it happens.   You start to cry — Jungkook freezes, eyes as big as saucers.   Your head knocks forward, tears drip to the floor. You’re so small. He’s never seen you like this before. Jungkook’s never seen you so vulnerable before.   “H-Hey, Y/N. C’mon….”   His hands come out, but they don’t touch you. He doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to make it stop. He is powerless.   “I’m sorr—”   Jungkook’s entire body jolts. His eyes rip open into the night. He’s woken up in a pool of his own cold sweat. Oh god. Thank fucking christ it was only a nightmare — he’s still traumatized for life.   The boy sighs, running a hand over his face and through the damp strands of his hair. He twists and turns, trying to return back to sleep, but he’s unable to. Eventually, his hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand.   5:42 am. Jungkook: hey 5:42 am. Jungkook: u ok??? 5:58 am. Jungkook: so when should we meet up for napoleon again   Hours later, it says you’ve seen the message, but you never answer him. You leave him on read.

It’s been a few days — how many, you’re not so sure.   You’ve been binging on ice cream and fudge brownies. The area near your mouth is stained with chocolate and crumbles of the treats. You haven’t showered in a while, or got up for that matter. It just feels better when you can pull the covers over your head and go through pictures of you and Seokjin on your phone.   Photographs of ice-cream dates, that time you went to an amusement park together, your high school graduation, the fairy lights you saw on Christmas, the beach during summer break, the movies during Spring break….   All of them. You look through all the pictures, from the blurry ones of him holding you close to the ones where you’re pouting as he leans down to plant a kiss on your cheek. You miss Jin so much it hurts and you always end up crying again when you play back the videos — sobbing underneath the lump on your mattress.   You’re glad you don’t have a roommate who can hear you crying day and night.   You remember the first time he asked you out, the first time he held your hand, the first time you kissed. It’s all fresh on the forefront of your mind, and you’re left wondering what you did wrong, where things took a turn and you didn’t even notice.   And you lay like that until you can’t cry anymore, until there’s no more pictures to see for the tenth time, until you reach the end of your years of text messages going back and forth. That’s when you see Jungkook’s text and you’re reminded that you can’t just lie around.   You need to get up, go to school. You paid a lot for it and you have midterms — you can’t leave him waiting.   Having no one to turn to, you dial his number.    It rings thrice before it picks up.   “Hello? Y/N?”   “Hey.” You can’t recognize your own voice. It’s thick and crackly, making you wince. “Sorry. I...called.”   “No, it’s okay. It’s okay, trust me. Um, are you, uh, alright?”   “I don’t know,” you answer honestly and peel back the covers just a bit. “I just wanted to let you know, I still remember the midterm, so…”   “Yeah, I know, t-take all the time you need.”   “Okay.” It goes silent. “That’s it. I should go now.”   “Right. I should probably go too. Take care of yourself.”   The call ends.   At least you still have a reason to get up.   //   Even if your mind is slowly preparing itself but your body isn’t, you have to eventually lug yourself up anyhow to get food when your supply of brownies and ice-cream runs out.   It’s a miracle how you can just go on autopilot — that you can walk to the dining hall while brain dead, that you can go forward when your bones and muscles are numb to movement.   You grab a tray and haphazardly scoop a ladle full of soup into your bowl. But when you turn away to find a seat, you come face to face with the worst of it, having forgotten this would happen.   You catch sight of Moonbyul and Sandeul at a table, but there’s no way you can approach them. They’re not your friends. Not anymore. All of your friends were Jin’s friends. He introduced you to them — and they know him better and longer than they know you. It is undoubtable that they would choose him.   You’ve lost everything.   You have no one.   Your hand tightens on the edge of the tray, looking for an empty table, searching for a spot where you can sit and quickly eat. Then you suddenly hear a call of your name—   “Y/N!”   Turning around, you discover Jungkook standing up from the cafeteria bench with his arm raised in the air. You approach hesitantly in five strides.   “Hey….”   All his friends are staring at you. One that you recognize as Jimin, another as Taehyung, one that has sharp features and striking looks and the other sleepy with cat-like eyes. “Ummm…”   “You can sit here.” Jungkook moves his friends’ trays out of the way, gesturing for them to scoot over. They look at him like they’ve gone crazy.   “T-Thanks…” You take him up on the offer, not wanting to reject him and make it more awkward.   They continue to gawk at you, and Jungkook has that sympathetic gaze of his. You know you look like a mess — you haven’t run a brush through your hair, the underneath of your eyes are red from rubbing, your nose is dripping, and your spoon trembles as you bring the soup up to your lips for a sip.    “Uh, this is Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, and Hoseok.”   “Nice to meet you,” you croak after clearing your throat.   “We’re in introductory cakes and decorating techniques together,” Taehyung chirps with a grin.   “Yeah, I know.” You try to smile and look over at Jimin. “And we’re in fine pastries together, right?”   Jimin nods, not uttering a single word. The awkwardness is tangible.   The man named Yoongi sucks up his soda noisily and then pops his lips off his straw. “Is your boyfriend not here toda—ow! What the fuck, dude.”   Jungkook’s doe eyes look back at his friend’s. “What.”   “Don’t play dumb, you just stepped on my damn foot—”   “Hey, is that all you’re eating?” Jungkook points his fork at your meager bowl of soup. Then he moves a bowl of fruit from his tray to yours. “Eat this. You like fruit, right? It’s good for you.”   You stare at it and pierce the strawberry to chew it in your cheek. Jungkook smiles when you move the honeydew off the bowl onto his plate. He eats it. “So when do you want to meet up again?”   “Tomorrow.”   “Okay, sounds good.”   Eventually, you finish your meal and mumble something about having to go to your locker. You bid them farewell and Jungkook waves with a brightened smile.   All five of them watch your backside becoming smaller. Then once you’ve disappeared, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin and Taehyung turn to Jungkook and wait for an explanation.   He looks back at them. “What?”   “Don’t ‘what’ us. The fuck was that.”   “Since when did you become buddies with Y/N?” Yoongi inquires, curious as well to the sudden change that almost gave him whiplash from sheer shock.   “Okay, first off, we’re not buddies. She’s just going through some shit, so I’m trying to be a decent human being.” They continue to eye him and Jungkook sighs, putting down his utensil. “Jin dumped her.”   “Oh shit.” Hoseok exchanges a look with Jimin.   Taehyung’s jaw is slack. “Damn, that makes a lot more sense.”   “Yeah, so don’t talk about him, dumbass,” Jungkook says pointedly to Yoongi.   “Hey, I didn’t know! Don’t put the blame on me.”   Hoseok asks, “When did it happen?”   “I don’t know, like a few days ago.” The dark-haired man leaves out the part where you were crying. They don’t really need to know that detail and he has no plans of making a spectacle out of you.   Taehyung leans in closer, too nosy for his own good. “Why?”   “How the hell would I know? Ask if you want to know that badly.”   “Nah, it’s no wonder though. She looks pretty bad.”   Jungkook muses the same and he can only hope you’re holding up well — if not for your own sake then for the sake of the midterm.   //   Another day comes and goes, a sunfall and sunrise, and you find yourself knocking at Jungkook’s door.   You didn’t know the weekend was so long. It feels long when you have no one to see, no one with you, nothing to do. Even after a full week has passed, you don’t feel better or close to it, but you know logically it’s better to get up and at least do something productive. You have some self awareness to know that rotting in your bed would be a pathetic way to die.   The door swings open.   The boy’s eyes are rounded. It occurs to you that you never realized just how brown his eyes are. “What are you doing here?”   “I...thought we could meet up early. I don’t really have anything to do, so…”   “How’d you know this is my room?” Jungkook peeks down the hall as if he could catch the person who exposed him like this, but there’s no one.   “I asked the front.”   “Oh.”   “Can I….”   “Sure.” Jungkook widens the door without thinking of the consequences and you step in.    It looks like a tornado took a turn here. His belongings are scattered and in disarray, clothing hanging off the back of his chair and dumped on the floor like there was a Black Friday sale.    Jungkook follows your line of sight and laughs stiffly. He picks up his briefs by your foot. “I’m usually not this messy, I swear. I’ve just been too busy to clean—”   The man pales and jumps on his bed when he notices what you’re staring at. He tries to cover up his IU posters with his hands and his body, but to no avail.    “These aren’t mine! They’re just up temporary cause, they were, um, gifts from my mom. I was a fan of her back in the day! But not anymore! Don’t make fun of me…”   The entirety of his wall above his bed is posters of IU from back in her debut days to her most recent comeback. He has a shelf of all her albums lined up in a row with her official lightstick too. They don’t seem dusty at all.   You take your eyes off of them, not uttering a single comment.   Jungkook realizes you’re not going to tease him and gets off his bed awkwardly. He continues to pick up after himself, throwing his used clothes in the laundry basket. His eyes flicker up to you.   “Wow, not even trying anymore, huh?” he jests, trying to lighten the mood. “Your outfit’s ugly.”   You look down, self-consciously tugging on the hem of your oversized sweater. It’s a taupe hoodie that goes to your knees. “It’s Seokjin’s.”   “O-oh. I, uh, mean you smell bad.” Jungkook laughs by himself and grabs his Febreze off his nightstand. He sprays the expanse of your body. It smells like fresh linen.   He stops after five seconds when it occurs to him you’re standing motionlessly — when it hits him that you’re not going to smack the head of his side like he expected you to.   Jungkook puts the Febreze back on the table and clears his throat. “I’ll be ready in two minutes.”   You’re freaking him the hell out. No matter how much Jungkook tries to banter with you or pick an argument, you remain quiet.   //   Even if you’ve gone mute, your baking abilities are luckily still intact.   Jungkook works quietly alongside you and helps you assemble the cake. After two strenuous hours, the product is put in front of the two of you. At first glance, the presentation is acceptable, but taste is another thing.   He cuts into the cake and eats. You wait patiently for his reaction. Jungkook’s brows wrinkle.   “Ugh, god.” He sets his fork down. “It’s so bitter.”   Your cakes are usually too sweet that it hurts his teeth — now it’s not sweet enough.   “Did you add any sugar?”   “You kept complaining I add too much,” you murmur dejectedly.   “Yeah, but you have to add some, Y/N. It’s not enough now. Here. Taste it. It’s disgusting.”   He gives you a tasting fork and you take a bite. After a thoughtful chew and swallow, you look at him impassively and shrug. “Tastes fine to me.”   “What?” Afraid he’s gone absolutely crazy, Jungkook takes another big bite. This time, his entire mouth dries and his tongue shrivels. It’s bad enough that he hisses, “It’s bitter.”   “I can’t taste it,” you mutter apologetically, eyes on the floor. “I think it’s because my nose is plugged.”   “How are you supposed to bake if you can’t taste?”    Jungkook sighs in frustration.   All your efforts for the past two hours have gone down the drain. You’ll have to start again, making it once more. But—    “What’s the point?” you ask him, shoulders slumped and your entire form drooping in on itself.    “What?”   “What’s the point?” you whisper to Jungkook. “We either do well or we fail, but it’s not like it’ll matter. We’ll still pass the class and we’ll move on. And we’ll graduate and work, and then die a few years from now. It’s not like this’ll significantly change our lives. What’s the point if we make it well or not. What’s the point of worrying about it.”   Jungkook is utterly mortified at your sudden despair. “Don’t you want to do well?”   You shrug.   He doesn’t know who this is — who you are — what you’ve become. This isn’t the Y/N that he knows.   “Can you stop moping?”   Silence.   “You’re not helping yourself by being miserable,” Jungkook says sharply. It pisses him off that you’re so pathetic, that all it took for you to become so small was a mere breakup. He can’t fathom that his rival has been reduced to this. “There’s worse things out there. It’s not like you’re dying.”   It remains quiet.    He doesn’t know what he has to do to squeeze some kind of living response from you.   “You’re alive and you’re still here. How much longer are you going to be like this? We have things to do!” Jungkook shouts, throwing his fork into the sink overflowing with dishes and bowls he has to wash as a result of your blunder. And it still seems like you don’t care. “I don’t get why you’re so sad. Jin isn’t even that great. He dumped you. So what? You move on! You get over it!”   You sniffle.    It snaps him back. Jungkook comes crashing down to reality. He watches the way you put your hands to your face and he realizes you’re crying again while nodding. God. He didn’t mean for it to come out like that, for him to sound like such an asshole.   “I’m...sorry,” you whimper, words muffled behind your hands. “I just...I’m t-trying.”   He sighs for the nth time. Guilt overwhelms him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”   Jungkook gently tugs on your strand of hair that falls in front of your face. His voice softens. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”   You nod, wiping your eyes away with your hand. “I just r-really want to go home and pull the covers over my head and pretend it never happened.”   “I know.” He really doesn’t.   Part of him still doesn’t understand. Jungkook can’t comprehend what was so great about Kim Seokjin that has you so devastated, but he tries his best to empathize. “But we can’t do that, can we? We just gotta...keep going. And it won’t be too hard cause it’s not like you have to do this on your own, right? Cause I’m here…..and you’re here, and all…”   He’s bumbling, tripping over his own tongue and cringing over his poor attempt at comforting you. But you look up at him with glossy eyes and he lets go of your hair.    With no one else to turn to and no one that you can confide in, you manage a small nod. You choose to believe him.

[leefi]

Starira MBTI III - Frontier

1. Seisho

2. Siegfeld

3. Frontier

4. Rinmeikan

Aruru Otsuki: ENFP

Just go and reread Karen’s entry.

FJDKSLDKL in all seriousness leaps and bounds of Ne from both of them. There’s a reason they often catch themselves saying the same things and why Karen sees so much of herself in Aruru. Not only are they both Ne doms, they’re the exact same type! Ne and Fi together hold that naturally sunny and joyful disposition they both have, and that extreme, passionate love for the people they’re close to. And her Ne may be even higher off the charts than Karen’s. From the entirety of Captain Twins, to improvising lines on stage with Misora as kids, to being the embodiment of Frontier’s free-spirit, pioneering nature - all of this is extroverted intuition, chasing at every possibility under the sun, no matter how absurd it may seem. Her STRONG tertiary Te -- which is much stronger than Karen's, by the way -- supports her dominant Ne, and this is where her gung-ho attitude comes from. “We have to write our own play?? No problem, wheel out the whiteboard! Nobody has an idea yet?? That’s fine, I’ll throw one out and get the ball rolling! Misora and I need three more people for our play? What are we waiting for, let’s go find them!!” All of this is tertiary extroverted Thinking, implementing your ideas out in the world.

Misora Kano: ISTP

She is so compelling!!! I wish we got to see more out of her!! She's already cultivated so many of her talents (and her function stack is pretty strong for such a young age too) - she'd really shine if you just gave her the spotlight! The second ISTP in this series who had her inferior Fe develop super early due to having 1) a ton of siblings and working with so many people from such a young age and 2) a gf with Fi in her dom/aux slot. I’m gonna start with her Fe again because, like Futaba’s, it’s so strong for how young she is - she is quicker to pay attention to social convention than Fi-aux Aruru, scolding her whenever she refers to older Karen by her first name, for example (don't let her see Aruru call Akira -chan). We see aux Se in how energetic and in the moment she is - she grew up acting and doing backstage work and helping her family with their troupe, and we never really see her stuck in her head or wondering about things that aren’t in the here-and-now. Her partnership with ENFJ Michiru to create a new Troupe is going to be SO SO GOOD in the future. They really are going to draw the best out of each other. As polar opposites, they have the exact same functions, just in reverse (like Karen and Junna, or Hikari and Ichie)! So Misora has Ti-Se-Ni-Fe, and Michiru has Fe-Ni-Se-Ti. It’s the perfect setup for them to complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Honestly, I really wish we saw more out of Misora - she deserves more than just being Aruru’s sidekick, and that Feeling function in her inferior slot (extroverted, no less) means that it’s difficult for her to communicate what exactly it is that she wants, both for herself and from others. Like with Mahiru, it’s intuitively hard for her to speak up and say “Hey, I feel like I’m being left behind”. Somebody needs to tap Aruru on the shoulder and communicate that to her - Fe-dom Tsukasa, maybe, or ideally, Misora herself. I think that she’s been kind of shouldered into the straight-man role not just by Aruru but everyone at Frontier because they all have such big personalities (like...she’s got Aruru and Lalafin taking up space, which is already more than enough), and she’s likely been in this position before. She’s been helping her parents run a troupe since she was a child, and now she’s (unfortunately) playing second fiddle to Aruru for the most part at Frontier. She’s been mostly stuck using her Ti and Se, and I really really hope that AA has us seeing her use more of that tertiary Ni and advocating for the goals she has for herself. She deserves to shine so much!!

One final note - I find it so interesting that both ISTPs in this series have such strong senses of faith - Misora is cast as the Faith arcana (and, unlike some of the other girls who are cast as the “opposites” of their personalities, Misora’s seems true to hers), and Futaba obviously has that reverent faith in Kaoruko (and is canonically religious???). It’s a bit antithetical to the ISTP personality type, which values its individuality above all else and tends to be a bit of a rebel. I don’t have much to add here - it’s just an interesting observation.

Shizuha Kocho: INFJ

Lalafin: The Count was such a great actor! I’m sure he would’ve been great on stage too…

Shizuha: Heh heh, maybe!

Shizuha: But still, he never went back to his original persona even after his revenge. He had to stay as the count for the rest of his life.

Shizuha: And he was able to do that because he was good at becoming other people.

Shizuha: ...Although I cannot say if that meant he was happy.

Lalafin: Even after his revenge, he still wasn’t happy...That’s one point of view to make his sadness stand out even more!

Shizuha: Right?...Yes. I think I’ll stick to how I’m doing things now.

THE!! LOVE!! OF!! MY!! LIFE!!!!!!! I CANNOT OVERSTATE ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE SHIZUHA KOCHO!!!! She was my first favorite character in the game (and still is!! But frontier gets no content :’)). As I said with Maya, INFJs are old souls - wise and idealistic, but typically reserved. Auxiliary extroverted Feeling shows up in how she suppresses herself so as not to intimidate or make others feel inferior - we see the exact same thing play out with INFJ sibling Koharu. She’s mysterious but amiable, kind and awe-inspiring - just like INFJ sibling Maya. And we see that token INFJ loneliness playing out with all three, as well. What I love most about Shizuha is that she’s a person of extremes. She is so cerebral and intelligent and dignified in a way that reminds you of Maya but she’s also so!!!! Fucked in the head!!!!! Ni doms baby!!!!!!! (I am fucking crazy. But i am free).

Unhealthy INFJs can develop this obsession with making themselves martyrs, and I don’t think I need to rehash out her AA conversation with Aruru (and her entire philosophy towards acting - see above quote) to get that across. I want to dive into this more. Truly I do. Shizuha deserves 10 pages of writing. But she is one of the last I'm writing and I've clicked through 3 different AA stories and accidentally found Rui and Yukko's first so I diverted and finished writing Yukko's entry and I've already spent so much time on this oh god the doc is already 18 pages single spaced uhhhh Shizuha my loveliest love I will write your character deep-dive later I prommy <333

(Also, seeing her synergy with Aruru is soo so cute. INFJ/ENFP supremacy!! Same dynamic as MayaKaren!)

Lalafin Nonomiya: ESFP

(Se dom).

She’s so athletic and energetic and in-the-moment and improvisational and quick on her feet (Se, Se, Se)! Fi over Ti aux because she has a much more subjective view of what’s “fun” - “what do I want to do? Where do I want to go? What kind of character do I want to play???". She’s got that trademark genki energy that so many ExFPs share, particularly that childlike zeal that she and ESFP sister Ichie both have. In her own way, Lalafin embodies Frontier’s pioneering, fun-loving spirit just as much as Aruru.

Tsukasa: Lupin is usually portrayed as mysterious and polished, no? But the way you perform him is more fresh and open -- almost like the main character from a children’s book.

Lalafin: Oh! Come to think of it, the book on Lupin I read when I was younger was written for kids!

Lalafin: It was about this big and had a realistic image of Lupin right on the cover!!

I don’t really have too much to add. She’s just a perfect embodiment of that excitable, fun-loving Se and Fi dom/aux duo. Childlike and simplistic-appearing at a first glance, but there's such a fire in there - just compare her to her ESFP twin Ichie!

Tsukasa Ebisu: ENFJ

I can see that use of Se - love of fashion, sweets, dancing, going out and enjoying life - yes, she had overprotective parents and could just be making up for lost time, but I think that nice material things are something she just genuinely enjoys for herself as well. So at first I thought ESFP, but we can’t ignore that enormously caring attitude she has for others and the way she gravitates towards caretaker roles, which indicates more Fe than Fi. So ENFJ it is! She has that Fe and Se, and we see that inferior Ti in how she struggled to realize something was wrong when she was trapped in the play. I love, love, loved her leading role in the Arise All You Sons event and how she and Yachiyo interacted to bring out the best in each other - we saw Yachi using a lot of that aux Ti to support Tsukasa’s inferior Ti and dominant Fe!

Her dominant Fe is SOOOO clear and contrasts to every other girl in Arise All You Sons. She’s the first to go “hey, wait, hold on - I’m not sure what (inferior Ti) but something about this feels artificial, and I don’t think it’s actually going to help the kids”. Inferior Ti/Dominant Fe speaks before thinking too - “Why did I say that?! Why did I do x?!” - it isn’t until aux Ti Yachiyo shows up to help her that she’s able to work through her thoughts. While she can get stuck in the rut of her own mind sometimes, Tsukasa is one of the most caring, empathetic, and mature characters in the series - and she does all this without sacrificing her own autonomy and individuality, which can be difficult for an Fe-dom to do.

[uncomfortable-writers]

Sugar and Spice 2 (Tony x Reader)

(Gif credit to owner)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Tony Stark

Persona: Female 

Word Count: 3,403

Warnings: Sugar Daddy!Tony, swearing, light smut in public, NSFW

18+ Only!

A/N - Decided to turn it into a little mini series! More plot driven then just straight up smut. Enjoy <3

Read Part One Here!

Tag List: @ofmiceand-batman​ // @hulksmashin-bannerpackin //

♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡

The sunlight peeked through the slight crack in the curtains, creeping softly over your closed eyelids. You groaned, shifting your head further into the pillow you were cuddling silently refusing to wake up. It was the faint smell of cologne simmering in the air and drifting innocently into your nostrils which reluctantly made your eyes open. Of course he was gone. Tony never stayed the night. He usually left soon after the deed was done, sometimes a few hours later if he craved further affection like cuddles. He must of let himself out after you’d fallen asleep. 

Hickies and scratches were the only physical evidence of your late night activities, Tony’s scent a reminder that it wasn’t just a filthy dream. Your once pristine bed now a sinful disarray of tousled sweat-stained sheets, pillows scattered on the floor along with the pink bodysuit you’d worn. You willed your heavy heart to stop dwelling on the nostalgia from last night, sometimes you just wished that when you woke up in the morning, Tony was still there. With a shake of your head you pushed the thoughts away reminding yourself that this was only a business arrangement. Sitting up on your bed you felt like you were hungover; your body ached from the unholy acts Tony inflicted upon you. You wouldn’t have it any other way though. 

Reaching out you picked up your phone. Your eyes scanned quickly over the various notifications ignoring the ones from Instagram and Snapchat, you were looking for one in particular. The little bit of naive hope you had left was diminished when you saw only a notification from your bank stating that a recent deposit had been made, “Typical”, you murmured, you didn’t know why you still hoped he’d send a good morning text, afterall when did Tony ever text you just to talk? 

“Shit!”, groaning you quickly swung your legs over the side of your bed. You were late for work. Again. There was no way your boss, Pete, would tolerate this. Because of Tony you were late for the third time this week, he always wore you into a sleep coma. 

You scowled at the burnt out candles as you grabbed a set of work clothes out of a drawer and dashed into your bathroom. A few hours late was better than not turning up at all right? It took you minutes to get ready, grabbing your already packed bag, you left to catch the bus for work hoping that you could still keep your job.

//////////\\\\\\\\\\

The journey was mundane apart from the anxiety seeping in your bones. You almost turned and bolted way from your place of work but you ignored the apprehension. You couldn’t run from all your problems in life.

Your friend Mia was the first to greet you as you entered the bustling workplace, for an office it sure was lively, “Pete’s gonna have a field day with you”, she teased waltzing past you to the break room, “Is that why you were late again?”. Mia tapped the side of her own neck with a smirk and you suddenly realised you hadn’t covered up the hickies. You couldn’t help but to grin back at her, “Mind your own business”. Mia hovered by the break room doorway to dish out one final taunt, “Y’know I don’t even know why you still work here, if I was getting what you earn in one night I’d retire for life”. You rolled your eyes at your friend, she knew about your arrangement just not who it was with although she tried on many occasions to find out. Walking over to the clock-in machine you called back, “Girl needs a hobby Mia”. 

Your mood was starting to look up, maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as you first though. Just as you were putting your clock-in sheet back into the slot, Pete popped his head around his office door, “(Y/N)! My office now!”, he did not look happy. Mia tapped your shoulder, “Good luck”, and made her way back to her desk. ‘Spoke too soon’, you thought.

Smiling sheepishly, you leaned through the open door way, “You wanted to see me?”. Your boss nodded his head and motioned for you to come fully into the room. You offered him your sweetest smile, sitting down you clasp your hands in your lap and tried to turn up your charm. He sighed. Rubbing his forehead he finally met your eyes, “I’m gonna keep this to the point (Y/N). I’m making you redundant, you’ve had too many warnings”. You put on your best puppy dog eyes, “Pete please-”, but your boss cut you off, “I told you what would happen a few days ago if you were late again. You’ve had too many chances”. You wanted to protest again. Sure you didn’t need the job but it was something to do on the side to keep a steady income, just in case of emergencies. Ultimately the arrangement you had with Tony wasn’t forever. “No ifs or buts, I want your desk cleared by the end of the day”, Pete said then he wordlessly went back to typing away on his computer signalling the conversation was over. You nodded your head and walked out of his office feeling quite frustrated. 

Your mobile vibrated against your hip. You fished it out of your pocket as you dropped onto your office chair:

From: Daddy ♡

Hey princess, daddy wants to play xoxo

Given any other circumstances and you’d be hornier than Loki’s helmet, but right now you were pissed off and defeated. 

To: Daddy ♡

Not now i’m busy 

His reply didn’t take longer than a second, almost like he was waiting for you which unbeknown to you he was. Sat alone in his huge office, on the highest floor of Stark Tower Tony grew bored of doing paperwork. His eyes lazily read through mission reports, his mind drifting to something more fun than paperwork, that something being you.

From: Daddy  ♡

So? go to the bathroom and take some pics for me ;) xo

Your patience was being tested. You scowled at your phone, you were in this mess because of Tony, “Ugh”. Mia popped her head over the cubicle at the sound of your sigh, “Trouble in paradise?”. You didn’t look at her as you typed out a blunt response, “Yeah”.

To: Daddy  ♡

I said no

Tony frowned at your text, genuinely stunned by your response. You were usually always up for whatever fun Tony wanted. He slumped back in his luxury leather chair for a few moments trying to formulate a response. When his brain came up short he rested his chin on his hand and typed a reply, confused about what had upset you so much. Tony wasn’t used to rejection, especially from you. After replying he dropped his phone onto the desk pouting, he schemed up a plan to make you happy again. You must be truly down in the dumps if you didn’t want to play with Tony when he asked.

From: Daddy  ♡ 

Okay

You didn’t grace Tony with a response able to tell that he was upset. Mia rested her head on the top of the cubicle, “Take it Pete wasn’t too nice”. You put your phone into your bag, staring at the clutter on the desk you tried to figure out what you wanted to keep and what you could trash. “Got till the end of the day to tidy this shit up and go”, you lazily spoke deciding that your nails were a lot more interesting. Mia made her way around into your cubicle, “Looks like I better help you then”.

It was around 4pm when you finally got home. 

Two small cardboard boxes were discarded by your door containing what little desk ordinates you’d deemed worthy of being saved. The rest was trashed, Mia drove you home thankfully so you didn’t have to struggle with the boxes on the bus. Your room was just as messy as you left it this morning only adding to your soured mood. Discarding your work heels you waddled over to your bed and dramatically fell onto it. As much as you wanted to sleep you could feel it evading you, much like you were avoiding checking your constantly buzzing phone. To distract yourself you decided to go job hunting, not the best way to spend a Friday evening but it was better than moping around.

You didn’t even bother to tidy up your bed sheets as you slowly opened your laptop lid and sluggishly began browsing. You phone pinged again and finally you welcomed the distraction.

Grabbing it you began to read through the notifications ignoring most of them until you came to Tony’s messages:

From: Daddy  ♡

are you free yet princess??? xoxo ---- work’s boring wanna play?? xo ---- c’mon (Y/N) u know i dont like the silent treatment :( x ---- miss u baby girl ♡

You rolled your eyes, as annoyed at him as you were, you couldn’t resist the charisma he exuded even over text.

To: Daddy ♡

sorry stressful day at work, miss u too x

The local advertisements were boring as ever, nothing was catching your eye. Mia’s words about retiring echoed in your head, maybe it was time to work full time as a sugar baby. You thought about it for a few seconds before you envisioned Tony’s reaction. He could get very jealous when he wanted, maybe you’d bring it up with him if you couldn’t find any suitable job offers.

From: Daddy ♡

it’s okay baby, get dressed im taking u out for dinner. my treat. be there soon xoxo

“Guess I’ll get ready then”, you mumbled tossing your phone onto the bed, like usual you didn’t really have a choice. Gliding over to your wardrobe you pulled the doors open and stared at the contents. Dinner with Tony meant putting on a show and splashing the cash. Plates of expensive food that costed a small fortune for only a minute portion. Wine aged for centuries and dresses fit for models. It was never simple with Tony so there was no way in hell you could get away with putting on a t-shirt and jeans.

Your hands slipped over costly gowns made of the finest silks and other fabrics, the colours wonderfully exuberant in the gentle light. All beautiful gifts from Tony. He loved to spoil you, loved to have you on his arm in some sheer, little black dress that showed your delicate curves and long legs, loved the way people would look longingly at you both, jealous that you were with each other. Time was quickly passing by as you studied each dress, they all fit you perfectly and you adored each one. Usually you would’ve asked Tony what colour his suit would be so you could match but you didn’t have time. Sighing for what felt like the billionth time that day you automatically reached for a short black one but your hand hesitated. Hovering over to a red dress you decided to switch things up. The makeup on your face was simple just like the small, black clutch you paired with your black heels.  Your phone whistled and you took that as your signal.

Skipping outside you first saw pricey convertible, you opened the passenger door and ducked in.

“Hey princess, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes?”, Tony grinned, leaning over he placed a peck on your cheek, “Booked a place at your favourite restaurant, in your favourite booth too”. You barely had time to pull the safety belt around you before Tony pressed his foot to the peddle and jetted off.

/////////\\\\\\\\\

As much as Tony joked, complimented you and even touched you affectionately, the smile on your face didn’t quite meet your eyes and he couldn’t help but to be bothered by it.

“You know if you didn’t want to be here you could’ve just said no”, Tony half-smiled trying to keep the mood jovial although you could hear the underlying sadness in his tone. You tried to remain playful as you dismissed him, “Like you would’ve taken no for an answer”, your eyes then drifted around the restaurant. You were situated in a booth a few metres away from the other customers, almost secluded from everyone else. The booth was next to a massive window which showed the outside world below, it was dark now and the lights from various buildings lit up the night sky like fairy lights on a Christmas tree. Tony moved a little closer, his knee touching your own as he rested one of his large hands on it, “Alright you got me there but there’s something bothering you, so spill the beans (Y/N), I can’t help you otherwise”. This made your attention float back over to him; he was looking at you with such a sincere look in his wide brown eyes, he squeezed your knee encouragingly and you couldn’t help but crack before him. It was one of the reasons why you were still in an arrangement with him, Tony was so caring unlike any other man you’d ever met before.

A pouty look caused your bottom lip to jut out. Tony didn’t even try to hide his eyes glancing to them, dirty thoughts blooming in his mind. You continued to hold the expression secretly basking in knowing how it affected him. “I got fired because of you”. Finally Tony made eye contact with you, his eyebrows rising at the statement, “I got you fired? So that’s why you’ve been so pissy. Was it because of these?”, he rasped as he touched the few hickies visible on your neck and scattered just above the cut of the dress’ cleavage. Memories of last night invaded his mind and he couldn’t help but to smirk. You slapped his hand away, “No. You made me late again because I didn’t wake up in time”. Tony let his hand fall back to your knee, his eyebrows now knitted in confusion, “Sweetheart that sounds like you’re blaming me for a you problem”. You were starting to get irked again. There was truth on Tony’s part, you should’ve set alarms but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him. “No it is your fault, you came round late and let me fall asleep straight after”, your emotions were obvious on your features. You were about to swat his hand off your knee but Tony tightened his grip, a sacrilegious smile plastered to him. 

“My bad princess, you’re right, it’s my fault”, Tony’s calloused fingers ghosted up your exposed thigh, “Let daddy make it up to you”.

 Your eyes widened slightly as he started to push your dress up higher, he scooted closer to you in the booth completely intoxicating you with all of his being, “What? Here?”, Tony laughed at your incredulous tone, freezing his actions as you held his wrist in place. He leaned in to kiss your neck, “Let daddy make you happy princess”. You stifled a moan as his teeth grazed across one of your bruises, your grip on his wrist temporarily loosened as the first bouts of pleasure stirred within you. Tony leaned back into the booth, his other hand came to pull you into his side to urge you to relax, your head rested on his shoulder but you weren’t entirely comfortable yet, “What if someone sees?”. Tony placed a gentle kiss to your crown, “Just relax baby, I’ve got you”. 

His finger flitted over your clothed pussy, hot to the touch, you whimpered softly involuntarily feeling your legs flinch open to allow him more room. “That’s my good girl”, Tony cooed, you gripped his bicep as you let him please you. To anyone else in the restaurant it would’ve looked like you were cuddling Tony, but little did they know he was about to be knuckle-deep in your cunt.

Tony started to rub with two fingers, ever so slightly bumping against you clit as he stroked up and down. You tried to keep your breathing even, going as far as to bite your lip. “That’s it princess, just let daddy take care of you”, he praised feeling your panties dampen. He took it as cue that you wanted more. The attention stopped ever so suddenly. Tony pulled your underwear to the side, the air was cool against your core which was burning hot. His fingers were poised over your entrance, his voice was a low whisper that commanded your attention, “Tell daddy what you want, beg for it”. Tony had gotten you so worked up from the teasing that you didn’t stop yourself from indulging him. You cheeks were dusted pink as you briefly lifted your head to see his eyes, “Please daddy, I want you to fuck me with your fingers, please”, you mewled looking sultrily at him through your lashes. “God you’re perfect princess”, he replied, leaning into kiss you. His tongue made its way into your mouth and just in time as he finally plunged his fingers into your slit, a groan erupted from you but Tony swallowed it. 

Your tongues clashed perfectly in time to the rhythm Tony’s fingers were pounding into you at. Tony was the first to pull away, his lips swollen and hair slightly tousled, “When I first saw you in that dress tonight I knew sooner or later I’d have to touch you”, Tony slowed his fingers to deliver deeper strokes. You tried to resist the urge to buck up to meet his hand by squeezing his bicep, one dodgy move and people would know what you were up to. “I can’t wait till we blow this joint because I’m going to bend you over my car and fuck you silly”. You bit your lip to suppressed a hum, Tony continued, “And that’s a promise baby girl”, his fingers sped up again. Luckily the atmosphere of the restaurant was loud enough to block out the elicit noise of Tony’s fingers squelching in your pussy.  Tony added another finger to stretch you deliciously while he used another to rub your clit in tiny circles.

“Oh god daddy”, you purred feeling yourself getting closer to orgasm. Tony started to curl his fingers deliberately to hit spots within you that usual made you scream. You teeth drew blood as you harshly bit down on the inside of your cheek. “Gonna cum for me?”, he murmured into your ear, nuzzling it with his nose. “Yes”, you said breathily. It seemed impossible but Tony went even faster, your hips wiggled ever so slightly, “Then do it”, he instructed. With a few more well placed thrusts from his fingers your pussy clenched, warmth gushed around them. Tony was sure you’d bruised his arm from how hard your fingernails were digging but he didn’t mind. He helped you to ride out your orgasm, eventually stopping his movements altogether when you were done, “Good girl”, Tony commented withdrawing his fingers, he placed your now soaked underwear back in place. A raging blush blossomed on your face as you knew there’d be a wet spot on the chair. 

Tony wickedly licked his fingers clean, “You taste sweeter than any dessert, am I forgiven now?”.

Your lungs were still heaving in your chest, “I guess so, thank you daddy”, you pecked his lips and revelled in the fact you could taste yourself on them. Tony smiled at you, “Only guess so? I can get you your old job back if you want it, all you have to do is give me the name of your boss”. You shook your head, you tugged your red dress down until it was covering you correctly, “I’ll find a new one”. The last thing you wanted was for the people at your old workplace to know you were banging the Iron Avenger. Tony still grinned at you, “I can help with that too. Can even up your allowance till we find you a suitable place”, he finished with a wink. As grateful as you were, you didn’t need him to hold your hand everywhere you went, “Thank you but I’m sure I’ll get one just fine”.

“Alright suit yourself”, he chuckled loving how self-assure you were. A waiter approached your table carrying the orders of food, “Perfect timing, we’ve worked up quite an appetite”.

[ladymercytaylor]

All In - Chapter 6 (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

A/N: HELLO! And we’re back again with part 6 of All In! This one isn’t as thicc as the last one but honey we getting to the angsty part now! also shout out to everyone that left comments on my last chapter - you honestly have no idea how happy it makes me to see you engaging with my writing <3 <3 (also i obvs don’t own the line break image. thanks google)

Looking for the last chapter? Find it HERE!

Chapter 6 – 11 weeks

At 11 weeks pregnant, the end of your first trimester was finally in sight and you’d never been so excited. So many of the books you’d read told you that in a lot of pregnancies the morning sickness would ease after the third month. It was the one thing that you’d held onto through every trip to the bathroom – every interrupted night’s sleep – you’d held onto the faith that it would be over soon. The other 2 trimesters would be easier and then you’d get the ultimate reward; your little Nugget in your arms. You’d felt fine when you woke that morning, so fine in fact that you’d even managed to keep your breakfast down as you got ready. Encouraged by your small victory you’d left the apartment with a smug smile on your face and a spring in your step. And you were practically jumping for joy when you hurried up the concrete steps of the subway after managing to stay on the same train for the whole trip (instead of having to change 3 times to throw up which had become your new routine).  It must be going now. It had to be.

“Hello, Nadia” you grinned as you stepped into the change room of your practice. The younger girl smiled at you as she pulled her purple scrubs over her thick curly hair. “Hey, boss” she laughed, tying the drawstring of her uniform. “Have a good weekend?” “Yeah, it wasn’t bad” you murmured, pulling your freshly laundered clothes out of your locker. “Went to a cute brunch place in Greenwich Village with my roommate Saturday morning then dinner and a movie with a friend” “That sounds like a date” Nadia sang teasingly, pulling her hair up into a puffy ponytail. You rolled your eyes at her antics, swapping your floral dress for the plain blue top. Your dating life was one of her favourite topics of interest (despite the numerous times you assured her that it was non-existent at best). “Definitely not a date, Nadia. Not everyone’s social life is as colourful as yours” you joked and her dark brown eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my god I have to tell you the craziest story” she chirped to your back as you pulled on the bottom half of your uniform at sat down to tie you shoelaces. “So, you remember my friend I told you about, Salma, yeah?” all it took was one nod from you for her to launch into the dirty details of her weekend. You were always slightly nervous when you got a new mentee but after only an hour with Nadia your fears had been put to rest. And nothing made your Mondays more interesting than hearing about the antics of her and her slightly messy friends. 

She continued to tell you all about her weekend as the two of you walked into your examination room, her hands flying in front of her as she illustrated the exact route she and her friends had run through Central Park at 4am to get to some exclusive rave before the doors closed.  “Alright, do you want to read the appointment notes for our first case and tell me how we should set everything up?” you asked, settling down on your stool. Nadia grinned at you before turning to the glowing computer screen. “Well it’s just a routine cleaning so we’d need…” her voice faded away as a cold sweat brought out across your brow. Your stomach lurched and you shot up from your stool sending it skittering across the floor.  “Set everything up and I’ll see how you’ve done when I get back from the bathroom” You couldn’t wait for her response, dashing from the room as your insides clenched again. Stumbling down the white corridor you managed to throw yourself into the bathroom as your breakfast reappeared, only just managing to get yourself over the porcelain bowl.  A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you sat back on your heels, the water swirling down the drain. The best morning you’d had in the last 11 weeks and now it was ruined. Luck seemed to have been on your side and you’d avoided being ill at work but it seemed that Nugget didn’t care at all that the sickness should be easing by now. You should have known. With a father like Joe there was no way your baby wasn’t going to be a troublemaker. You startled as you exited the bathroom. Sam, the practice manager, was leaning up against the opposite wall, calm concern on his slightly lined face.  “Hi, Sam” you chirped, attempting to appear casual but his expression didn’t waver.  “Y/N” he started gently and you felt your stomach drop. “I’m going to say this as a friend, is there anything you want to tell me?”  A soft sigh escaped your lips and irritated tears welled in your eyes. You’d been hoping to keep it to yourself for a little while longer, but your cover seemed to have been blown.  “I’ve got a free slot after I finish up with Mrs Summers, could I stop by your office?” you asked meekly, toeing at the stiff grey carpet.  “I think that’s a very good idea” he smiled warmly. Sam patted your shoulder gently and headed back to his office. A distinctly different kind of nausea settled in your stomach as you walked back into the exam room.

45 minutes later your heart was hammering against your ribs as you knocked on the office door. “Come in” came a muffled voice from behind the wood. You look a steadying breath before turning the silver handle and stepping inside. Sam was waiting for you, a steaming mug of coffee next to his mouse along with a half-eaten biscuit. He grinned as you entered, immediately gesturing for you to take the seat on the other side of his desk. “So, anything in particular you want to chat about?” he chuckled jovially, acutely aware of the pinched expression on your face. “Lovely weather we’re having today” you hummed, looking over the top of his head at the brightly lit New York street outside his window. “Y/N” he murmured warningly and you huffed a sigh, your teeth worrying at your lip.   “I’m pregnant” “Congratulations” he smiled but you couldn’t return it. “How long have you known?” you asked, picking up a stray pen from his desk. “A couple of weeks. When I realised you’d switched to decaf and were wearing the scrubs a size up from your usual” he shrugged, leaning back in his office chair. The back squealed loudly in the silent office. “You know it’s not a problem, right?” Sam murmured, concern in his pale blue eyes. “Everything in your contract still stands. Paid leave for 3 months and we’ll hold your job for a year” he reminded you gently. “That isn’t why I kept it quiet” you admitted, spinning the plastic biro distractedly across the wooden surface. Sam waited patiently, concern knitting his grey eyebrows. “It’s all just such a mess” you sighed after a few moments, still staring resolutely at the desk. “And work was the one place I didn’t have to think about it. Until this morning” “A surprise was it?” Sam asked softly, leaning forward on his forearms. Nodding softly you continued to spin the pen in front of you. “My first was a surprise” the affection that always warmed his voice when he spoke of his children coloured his words as he turned his eyes to the framed photos resting below his computer monitor. His wife and 2 daughters smiled back up at him through the glass and you felt your heart squeeze as a tender smile twisted his lips. “Yeah but at least you and Lara were actually dating” you muttered dejectedly. A tense beat passed between you. “Ah. Is there any chance that I know who the father is?” a small nod was all he needed. “I can see why you’re calling it a mess” he admitted, running a hand through his greying hair. “But if I can say one thing?” you nodded your permission, abandoning the biro under your fingers. “You couldn’t have picked a better guy”

Joe’s heart was hammering in his chest as he stared at his phone screen. 2 weeks was too long to put this off. He knew he should have called the day of the ultrasound, but the nagging fear of his mother’s reaction had kept him pushing it out of his mind. But now that the milestone 1st trimester was drawing to a close he knew there would be hell to pay if he left it any longer.  With trembling hands he pressed her icon before bringing the phone to his ear.  “Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up” he whispered to himself, his leg bouncing against the sofa cushions. His desperate prayers were not met however, as the ringing abruptly stopped, the gentle voice of his mother replacing it.  “Hello, stranger. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me” Virginia laughed softly. Joe chuckled along but his guts twisted with guilt.  “Sorry about that mum. Just had a lot on my mind the last few months” he murmured, dragging his fingers along a red stain in his track pants. Sadness settled over him as he remembered how that mark had come to be. It was one of his favourite memories with you – a rather misguided attempt to recreate his grandmother’s meatballs that had ended with an absolutely ruined dinner and sauce all over the two of you.  “Anything you want to tell me?” she asked gently, pulling Joe out of his reverie.  “Yeah, there actually is” He should have known that his mum would figure it out. He was never able to hide anything from her. “You might want to sit down for this one” “Okay, I’m sitting” Virginia replied wearily after a moment of pause as she settled at the dining room table.  “You remember how I went to that wedding a couple of months back?” Joe started, the muscles in his jaw clenching.  “Sebastian’s? Yes, the photos were gorgeous” “Well, Y/N was there” his admission was met with stunned silence. It was the first time she’d heard Joe speak of you in a year. He had always been very tight lipped about the breakup – refusing to supply any details beyond ‘It just wasn’t working’. Virginia had loved you like a daughter, and she knew she should have held back her curiosity, but it burst forth before she could stop it.  “You never told me! How is she? Please tell me she’s well” she babbled and Joe felt the tips of his ears begin to burn.  “She’s good. Really good, actually. Now I’m just going to get this out of the way so sorry if it’s a bit blunt” Joe started, terrified that he’d lose his nerve if he so much as paused, “we slept together after the wedding and now she’s pregnant and we’re going to raise the baby together” he blurted out in one big breath, the only other sound he could hear was the rushing of his heart in his ears.  “Oh my” were the only words his mum could think of. She was expecting him to say he’d be leaving for another long project or even that he’d lost a job he was excited about. Never did she imagine that he’d be telling her that he was having a baby. With his ex-girlfriend. “Oh, Joseph Mazzello. What have you done?” she sighed heavily and Joe’s insides lurched uncomfortably.  “I didn’t mean to, mum” he murmured, suddenly feeling like a child that was being scolded for breaking something valuable. “It all just…happened. And it was her choice to keep the baby!” he added quickly, his foot bouncing even faster against the floorboards. “I was okay with whatever she wanted” “I’m sorry, love” Virginia whispered, running a hand through her hair, “I’m just surprised. I mean I’m not surprised that it’s Y/N. Better than a random one night stand I suppose” “Wow, great pep talk” Joe deadpanned, flopping back dramatically onto the couch cushions.  “Are you two getting back together?” his mother asked, ignoring his groan. His stomach dropped.  “No. Just…doing it together” Joe finished lamely, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment.  “Right” Virginia nodded, not pressing the issue. She could hear the disappointment colouring his words. She didn’t want to poke the wound any further so she let it slide. “I’m sorry, hun, but I’ve got to go. Meeting up with friends for lunch”  “Oh, okay” Joe stammered. “I guess I’ll let you go then”  The two said their goodbyes and Joe was just about to remove the phone from his ear when his mum piped up on the other end.  “Joe?”  “Yeah, mum?” “This isn’t a joke” she warned, scratching at a mark on the worn dining table, “This is a huge commitment”  “Why is everyone treating me like a goddamned child all of a sudden?” Joe spat out, anger shooting up his nerves like fire. “I’m 35 not some reckless teenager” “I didn’t mean it like that –” she sighed gently but Joe cut across her.  “No, mum. I know you mean well but I know exactly what I’m doing” he snapped before ending the call and tossing the phone onto the other side of the couch. The small device bounced off the charcoal cushions before clattering onto the polished floor but Joe didn’t care. Furious tears were welling up in his eyes as his mother’s words echoed in his head. He could do this. Why did everyone think he was so incapable? Did he have ‘chaotic mess’ tattooed on his face?  Still grumbling to himself he stormed upstairs and into his office, throwing himself into his desk chair and grabbing his laptop. He was going to show them. He was going to show them all.

The heat was sweltering as you stepped out of the building, radiating off the dark pavement in shimmering waves. It stuck to your skin as you walked towards the train station, sweat beading on your brow. As you stepped down into the dark station a gust of warm air swept across your face leaving you grimacing. Not fancying a stifling trip home you shrugged off the thin jumper that was covering your floral dress. Usually hiding your bump was your top priority but the heat clinging to you was insufferable. And besides, what was going to happen on a 15 minute train ride? Much to your surprise your train pulled up right as you stepped onto the platform with the hoard of commuters and you were immediately swept inside with the crowd – no one paying you or your bump a second glance. Your hand was slick against the metal pole of the train as you tried to keep yourself from swaying into your fellow commuters as the train jerked along the tracks. The carriage lurched to the right, sending you stumbling into the man next to you.   “So sorry” you apologised, your hand immediately moving to rest on the small swell of your stomach. “All good” he dismissed casually, his eyes not leaving the phone in his hand. Shrugging to yourself you looked away, only to lock eyes with the aged lady sitting in the seat opposite you. You watched as her watery eyes drifted down to where your left hand rested on your belly. Instead of the warm smile you’d been so used to on the occasion that someone noticed your pregnancy, her lined face twisted into a look of pure disgust. You startled, stumbling as the train veered on the tracks. She turned away, staring resolutely down the carriage. You turned away too, shocked tears scratching at the back of your eyes. The train continued to hurtle down the tunnel, the steel wheels clicking against the tracks but you didn’t hear it, your mind completely clouded with angry confusion. She didn’t know you. She had no idea what you were going through with this bloody pregnancy - spending hours upon hours every week with the man who broke your heart for the sake of your baby. What gave her the fucking right?

“I come bearing dinner!” Joe chirped as he pushed the door to your apartment open. The plastic takeaway bag swung violently on the crook of his arm as he kicked the door shut with a satisfying thud. “I also brought dessert, couldn’t help myself” he added with a laugh but it died as his eyes fell on you, slumped over on the couch with your face buried in your hands as gentle sobs shook your shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked, abandoning the food on the kitchen counter before dashing to your side. “I’m fine, Joe” you whimpered, dabbing the sleeve of your jumper to your eyes. “Just hormones” “Bullshit” he dismissed, shuffling closer to you on the sofa. He hadn’t seen you cry once throughout this whole ordeal. Something had to be off. “Just leave it” the words came out harsher than you intended but that didn’t stop your ex-boyfriend. “No. Tell me what’s wrong” he demanded, his eyes not leaving your bloodshot eyes. You tried to keep it in. Tried to pretend that really, you were fine. But it was too much to hold at bay and you exploded. “It’s not fair!” you sobbed, furiously trying to wipe away the tears that were still pouring down your cheeks. “Everyone else gets the whole picture. The mum and the dad and the happy family shit. And I get judged by little old ladies on the subway” you blubbered angrily, bitter tears dripping onto your legs. “You should have seen the way she looked at me!” you shouted and Joe swallowed thickly. “Just because I don’t have a ring apparently I’m scum of the Earth” “I’m sure that’s not what she meant –”  Joe said in a vain attempt to calm you down. “How would you know?” you rounded on him, eyes flickering with rage. “Nothing’s different for you. It’s not like you walk around with ‘soon to be single dad’ stamped on your forehead” “I just never imagined I’d be doing this alone” you muttered, your eyes dropping to your worn ballet flats. “You’re not doing this alone” Joe reminded you gently, moving to place a reassuring hand on top of yours but you pulled it away. “It’s not the same Joe and you know it” you snapped, shoving off of the couch cushions to pace tensely across the living room. Joe watched apprehensively. He’d seen you get like this only a handful of times and it had never ended well. “This was all just such a huge mistake” “Don’t say that!” he implored, springing off the couch. “Don’t call Nugget a mistake” he begged, reaching out to grasp your shoulders. His heart clenched as you stepped out of his reach. “But they are! This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t know why I thought this might work” “Because we work!” he shouted back, angry red splotches blooming on his throat “we’re good together, Y/N” “If we we’re so fucking good together then why did you leave, Joe?” you spat back, the words like acid in your mouth. “Why’d you break up with me if we were so fucking great?” “God damn it, Y/N! Can’t you see that I made the biggest mistake leaving you? Every fucking day I wish I’d never done it and that you were still my girl” Joe shouted, the words flying passed his lips. The tension in the apartment was so thick you could almost see it shimmering in the still air, sizzling between you. “Don’t say that to me, Joe” you snarled through the tears, your eyes narrowing dangerously as your hands balled into fists.  “Why can’t I? It’s true!” he shouted, your dismissiveness aggravating him. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t listen, but he’d always held on to that sliver of hope and it was quickly slipping through his fingers. “I’m so sorry, sweets” he begged, desperation in his hazel eyes. “I lost the best thing in my life that day” “And I lost EVERYTHING!” you screamed back, the words you’d held inside for a year ripping at your throat. “For fucks sake Joe I loved your dad too!” you sobbed, your chest aching. A dead weight settled in Joe’s stomach as he watched you shatter in front of him. “And I lost him. And then on top of that I lost the love of my fucking life” “Sweets, I’m –” “And I lost your mum. Your brother. Your sister. Gwil. Lucy. Rami. Ben – everyone!” you cried, “and you honestly thought we could come back from that?” the scoff that left your mouth felt like a dagger through Joe’s heart. “We’re meant to be together, Y/N” he muttered through gritted teeth, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. “I know you don’t want to think about it but you know it’s true. If you could just -” “Joe” a firm voice interrupted. He turned to see Flick standing in doorway to her bedroom, clad in rumpled pyjamas with her arms folded over her chest. “You need to leave now” “But –” he tried to explain, desperately gesturing to you but she shook her head. Her brown eyes drifted to you, sobbing quietly into your hands. “No” she commanded, stepping into the living room. You immediately gravitated towards her and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling your shaking frame tightly into her side. “You’ve done enough” she whispered as you buried your face in the soft fabric of her shirt. You didn’t hear the slam of the front door as Joe left the apartment. Only the sound of your thundering heartbeat flooded your ears as you cried into her neck. “It’s okay” Flick soothed, running her hand comfortingly up and down your back. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright” Despite her kind words you felt your heart splintering in your chest. A part of you had always wondered if he regretted that day, if he’d change things if he could. You’d always thought the unanswered questions were the hardest part of it. But somehow this was worse.

TAG TIME!!! - again if you want to be tagged just let me know in the replies or message me! @sunflower-borhap-boys @blushingwueen @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @escabell@yourealegendroger @sincereleygmg @zvzxs @dramatique-moi @borhapqueen92 @manuosorioh @deakyjohns @rogwhoretaylor @dinkiplier Stay tuned for more next wednesday! 

[phoenotopia]

2019 May Update

Greetings everyone! Can't believe end of May is already upon us and E3 is just around the corner D:

We're still making steady progress towards the finish line. We crossed some big milestones in the past 2 months and started some new. For one, all of the levels in the game world are now done (except for "one" room, which is on hold for reasons). With all the levels effectively done, the final count for rooms actually just crosses the 700 mark! That's 3.5 times the original flash game!

Now that we've got a big beautiful game world, it's time to fill it up with NPCs, quests, and loot (the enemies have already been added). Until now, I've generally left the loot areas empty, since setting the loot heavily effects the game's pacing and difficulty. For instance, an example question I'll mull over is how much money has the player accumulated by the time they reach the 2nd town. We want the player to have enough money to buy the new equipment that becomes available - not so much money that they can buy everything and not too little that they can't buy anything - the amount of money needs to be just right. This forces the player to make decisions which forms the basis of all interesting gameplay.

On the NPCs and Quests front, I've been writing more and more. I've even started reading more! I've picked up books, which I haven't done for perhaps over a year or two! I think reading good diction helps to set your brain in a mode conducive towards good writing. Kinda like "You are what you Eat".

Here's a sampling of the Quests, Mini-games, and NPCs you can expect to meet on the journey.

The Free Runner's Quest

Bo is an NPC that the player will meet over and over. He challenges the player to a timed "Free Running" race course where they need to collect 10 flags within the time-limit. Besting his courses requires quick reflexes and route-planning. Every time you beat his course, he gives you a little prize and moves to a new location. He's not unlike the racing koopas you'd meet in Mario Odyssey.

(a bystander inspired by your performance)

The Shooting Galleries

Hard to believe 3 years ago I teased this video. (when work on PHO2 was proceeding in earnest). As cool as the old video looks - that was literally all of it, and it was really early and bug prone. Only recently did I finally revisit the shooting galleries and take it all the way home. A lot of improvements have been made to the scripting system by now and there are more robust and less buggy ways to deal with the player breaking bounds.

There'll be 6 different shooting courses total (of varying difficulty). Similar to setting loot throughout the game world and all the factors that could play into it, shooting courses boast their own interconnected challenges. I guesstimate where I think the player would be weapons-wise and power-wise, and then create a shooting course that I think the player can handle. Some shooting challenges are easy so the player can claim its prize early - others are harder and best attempted when the player has leveled up some more.

(Interestingly, the best prize is guarded behind the medium level course. Reason being the player would appreciate it a lot more at that point in the game)

(Don’t shoot the Queen!)

Fran and Moonstones

The Moon Stone hunt returns in an even bigger fashion than before. This time there are 100 moonstones to find, and they can be actually be given to 2 different NPCs. Giving moon stones to Fran advances Fran's storyline and unlocks shortcuts through the game world.

One of the major intentional changes to highlight the traversable world map is that you no longer have a quick select menu to access old areas. To access Panselo from Atai, you'd actually have to run through that broken bridge area again. And that's why it behooves the player to aid Fran in her quest for Moon Stones. Her teleportation research opens links between the towns and allows for more speedy traversal.

(Fran's quest starts when you first save her from beneath a pile of rubble)

I'm taking the the time to write more naturally flowing dialogue and give better characterization to Fran. I thought her whole story was kinda stilted and awkward the first go around.

(A video where Fran demonstrates how teleporters work)

As seen in the video, that song is Fran's theme. Will scored Fran's theme song a while back and now you can listen to it on his sound cloud as well. There was also this old song, which was in the running to be either Thomas's or Fran's theme. It's now been decided that that will be Thomas' theme!

Endings

We've also started work on the ending. Right now we're creating the art assets. The dialogue and scripting is still to come. I've settled on 2 endings. Both of which will be very different from the flash game's ending. The main ending will also vary a tiny bit depending on how much of the game the player completes. Ala Metroid, there are also different final ending portraits that can be obtained depending on the clear conditions. But the main portrait most people will see is the group shot, where more characters appear the closer to 100% game completion the player reaches.

(Depicted above is a end game portrait WIP that was rejected for a different take/version. So we decided this wasn’t too spoilerific)

Naming Contest I'd like to thank everyone for the numerous submissions! A lot of entries really went the distance - some created elaborate backstories, others created systems of names and acronyms. In an ideal world, I could choose them all. But, alas there are limited slots. Here are the name winners - I'll be contacting the submitters shortly:

I chose these names for a variety of reasons. The names were short, concise, and alliterative ("moth mines" and "mole mines"). The name keeps to a fantasy theme ("evil eye"). The name made a joke or pun ("rail shooter" and "rail sawer"). The name was cute and descriptive ("turtle bot" and "porcubot"). Or the name just sounded cool ("Constructs"). There were two entries where after screening the submissions I found I liked the "temporary" in-house name more ("smart turret" and "scrapper").

And with that, the naming contest comes to a close. Thank you again to everyone who participated!

Fan Works

Two fanarts were submitted on the reddit, which I'll be sharing here. Both were depictions of the "Last Song of Earth" place. Thank you to Firanka and laptekoz!

(by Firanka)

(by laptekoz)

Oddly enough, this place might be the most depicted place in the realm of fan art! Another interesting trivia is that the song connected to this place was the song Will wanted to cut since he didn't like it too much - but having seen how much people asked about it, of course we had to keep it in.

Next Update

The next update will run a bit later than the usual 2 months (likely August 9th). Reason being I actually have a trip to Vietnam with my Dad and brother coming up in the later half of July.

Indeed, it's an inopportune time to have a trip. I normally wouldn't go - I haven't been on a family trip in 3 years! But this one seemed important. We're getting OLD! My older brother has a wife and kids, so the opportunity to hang out like this comes but once every several years.

But I'll still try to sneak in some work. My plan is... and I hesitate to say this because whenever I communicate a plan, it falls part, but I'll say it anyway. My plan is to have the first playable version of the game, start to finish, in mid July. Then on the plane to Vietnam, I'll make my brother playtest the game since I'll have a captive audience. I'll take tons of notes on the play through, what needs to change, and so forth.

We'll see if that pans out. While we are working on things like the actual ending sequence, which signals the near end of development, I'd like to remind everyone to keep your expectations in check. Things go SLOOOW - there’s still tons of NPCs and quests to write. There’s the credit sequence to program. We still gotta playtest, we still gotta do PR, get an ESRB rating, launch the website, find an uncontested date, etcetera, etcetera. It seems like actually finishing the game is merely the arrival to the start of another race...

So pour your excitement towards E3 instead. That's soon!

[thewineabout]

I’ll give you a light (When your hands tremble) Chapter 3

Notes: Everyone has been so nice to me thank you. You can find this fic with all the relevant tags and ratings on A03!

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

The car is unsettling when the only noise is the hum of driving: the engine, the all seasons on the wet pavement and the hood cutting through the air as they speed. Chris doesn’t risk checking the rearview because he doesn’t want to see Stiles sitting coiled up in the back and he really doesn’t want to think about what the kid looks like now. Older, that much he knows; his first glance over had told him that. He might even look like John if it weren’t so dark.

Allison would have started to resemble Victoria’s sister by now; they had the same eyes and chin. She’d have lost the teenager youth; would have grown into the adult he never got to meet.

Chris shifts in his seat, leg stretching out the best he can while maintaining his foot on the pedal. His knee bounces twice.The strangling guilt Chris carries around crawls up his throat until he has to swallow and press his tongue against his teeth; the protein drink he’d sucked down an hour ago left them gritty.

Peter’s heavy palm lands on Chris’s leg hard enough to make his thigh twitch under the ensuing grip. Chris can guess what he must smell like; the wolf gets tactile when either of them start to fall into the specific misery he’s feeling now.

The stereo continues to croon into the car but when the song changes Peter’s fussing with Chris’s phone to jump passed the Aerosmith slow jams to Cage the Elephant.

Chris feels guilty about it, always does, but Peter’s jarring sense of humor eases the pressure from the base of his lungs.

They drive like that, with Peter smirking to himself as they take an exit that loops them back to the south side of the highway.

When he looks over again, Chris’s gaze catches on the splatters of inky red decorating his partner. “Change your shirt, Peter,  Jesus .” It barely sounds admonishing when it’s mostly breath, but Chris tries, and the tighter fingertips on his leg feels like a fair response.

“Stiles,” Peter waits until brown eyes move from the window to the space between the front seats. “Pass me a shirt from the bag beside you,” the wolf twists in his seat to gesture to the duffel Chris had yanked clothes from in the parking lot.

There’s movement in Chris’s peripheral, shadowy rummaging elbows, and then a black tee-shirt is sailing over the center console. It almost smacks into the dash but Peter snatches it and makes a show of taking off his bloodstained one.

“You never let me bask in it,” Peter complains, and Chris knows it’s just to hear his own voice. “It’s always: change your shirt Peter, brush your teeth Peter, not in  this  fucking car Peter.”

There’s a snort from the backseat that feels like a windshield chip in the tension.

The motel they pull into has a flickering vacancy sign; it’s the nicest thing about the place.

The parking lot smells like piss and there’s broken glass littering the sidewalk up to the office where a bell announces Chris’s solo entrance much louder than the thud of his boots over the threshold.

“Need a room,” he says and slaps down cash to the cut out in the counter; more cash than a shithole would have any dream of asking for. A surplus of money in the bank means he and Peter have never worried about the cost of discretion.

The woman behind the polycarbonate divider doesn’t lift her watery eyes up from her phone  longer than it takes to appraise the stack of bills. Her bubble gum pops as a key attached to a chipped plastic number clatters through the slot just a moment after the money is fed into a lock box at her feet.

His key reads 4A and when he’s back outside and looks over at the long building he can tell the letter designates them on the ground level of the two story dump.

It looks like the kind of haunt that movies try to mimic to get that specific  might get murdered ambiance. Chris knows he can’t really complain about it considering he’s got a murderer sitting in the car arguing with their kidnapped teenager’s taste in music.

“Who let the dogs out does not have the same ironic value as Hungry like the Wolf,” Peter is sniping, fully turned around in his seat. “And, it’s an irritating song I would never voluntarily listen to.”

“You’ll play Beast though?” Stiles has a leg hanging out of the SUV; the door open since they parked. “It’s funnier. It’s funnier Peter, you can’t fucking argue that.”

“That’s racist,” Peter sniffs and then turns his head over to meet Chris’s approaching gaze. Peter’s brows are up and the corner of his mouth budges in the direction of a smirk he is visibly containing. “Stiles is making dog jokes.”

Chris shrugs both shoulders, “you put him in the car.” He knows that Peter hates anything in the vein of canine humor, he’ll make the occasional crack about himself when the mood strikes but he doesn’t tolerate it from anyone else. Chris is surprised that he looks unbothered.

The keys jangle when Chris holds them up and gestures Stiles out of the car with a hike of his thumb. “We’ve got that room,” he points two doors down from the stall they’d pulled up into and moves around the back of the SUV to tap his knuckles against.

There’s a quiet snick and whuff before the back door is popping up and Chris eases it up above his head.

Peter slinks out of his seat and gives Stiles a pointed snub as he skirts him to get to Chris, specifically the keys he’s holding and the overnight bag stacked on the top of their totes and duffels of supplies.

“This place looks like we’ll be sleeping in the car,” Peter says with a distinct wrinkle to his nose. He shoulders a bag to each arm and leans forward in a distracted way Chris recognizes as skin seeking.

“Your breath, Peter,” Chris reminds as he leans away from the wolf and snatches up a soft sided cooler. The trunk comes down and he bounces his weight against it to be sure its closed; it doesn’t stick like his old one but the habit’s still there.

A loose chunk of concrete skitters through a scatter of glass and startles the men into looking back over at Stiles. He’s standing with the grimey yellow motel porch lights at his back, it makes him look bigger than he is. Nothing to distinguish between the lumps of his sweater the outline of his body in the dim.

Stiles rubs his hand through his shorn hair and then crosses them both under his armpits. “You know, this is the first time anyone’s thrown me in the back of their murder van before taking me to a shitty motel.”

Chris blinks and raises a brow a little. He doesn’t want to feed into the restless energy clearly spooling out of the teenager. Stiles’ fingers are fiddling and his body shifts like his weight doesn’t know where to settle.

It’s not hard to see how quickly uncertain and displeased could turn hostile, Chris watches Stiles shoulders hitching the longer they stare at him.

Peter breaks the half stunned silence first by locking the car and starts walking towards their room. “It’s not a van Stiles, it’s a sport utility vehicle. Roomy,” his fingers flip and it’s a flamboyant gesture Chris recognizes as put on,  “without screaming government watch list.”

“Right, ‘cause you’re not on any of those,” Stiles drawls; his gaze flicks to Chris once before he follows Peter with curved in shoulders. “A back from the dead millionaire and an ex arms dealer with a name that comes up too much.”

“Yes, well, it’s not the car that tips people off,” Peter jabs the key into the motel room door and braces himself before he actually opens it.

There’s always a pause, a scent acclimation before he’ll enter something this low class by choice. This time’s the same. Peter inhales shallowly, and then deeper, eyes skimming in the dark for the things that scurry when the lights come on.

“Aside from the pesticides I can’t smell anything too malevolent.” Peter steps in and palms the wall which turns on a lamp beside the tightly made double bed that centers the little room.

“Christopher is afraid of cockroaches,” he says to Stiles so plainly it makes Chris grunt irritably behind them.

“No bedbugs?” Chris asks as he squints at the bed. It looks flammable and the thin plasticy blanket is a rosey pink he’s only ever seen in motels.

“Gross,” Stiles hisses as he steps another foot away from the mattress and coils into himself, face twisted.

Peter looks between them before he lets his bags fall to the bed where they bounce and settle, “no bedbugs.“

It’s a small blessing, and the prospect of catching sleep in a truly horizontal position reminds Chris how sore he is. He rolls both shoulders and moves to the bed, shoving the duffels aside so he can sit and then stretch out. The cooler bag abandoned with the others as he rubs his hands over his face.

“I’ll take the first shower, unless anyone would like to share?” Peter asks as he smoothes a concerned expression away from Chris and to the bag he’s rummaging through for a toiletry pouch.

“Fuck off,” Stiles responds when Peter looks at him and his shoulder pull up near his ears. Stiles looks so defensive and flighty that Chris wonders if he won’t try and dart out on them.

“Your loss,” Peter quips back with a smirk that’s too crafted not to be obvious, “if there’s no hot water left.”

“Just go wash off, you’ve got blood in your beard,” Chris says from under his palms. Trying to rub the tension headache out of his face.

Peter scratches at the faint rust in his facial hair with a scowl but does disappear into the little stall of the attached bathroom.

“So,” Stiles starts and his body is rigid before he takes a breath and goes languid, approaching the bed to sit near Chris’s knees. “You going to ask what a good kid like me was doing in a truck stop?”

“I think I know what you were doing,” Chris intones flatly as he moves his hands from his face and props his torso up by his elbows to look at Stiles with a less severe height difference.

“Just paying my way; rides aren’t free,” Stiles speaks as he lifts a hand and settles delicate fingers around Christopher’s knee. “And I still need one.”

The pipes in the wall behind them groan as the water comes on in the other room but Chris barely notices. His attention is caught on Stiles’ hand.

All of his knuckles are bruised

[promosfree576]

Slot Aereo

A leading-edge slot is a fixed aerodynamic feature of the wing of some aircraft to reduce the stall speed and promote good low-speed handling qualities. A leading-edge slot is a spanwise gap in each wing, allowing air to flow from below the wing to its upper surface. In this manner they allow flight at higher angles of attack and thus reduce the stall speed. Slot car race tracks have taken on many forms, branching out from the traditional, fixed, side-by-side tracks. Those are still available and just as much fun as ever, but we’re glad to have so many choices. Out of support for the next generation of car enthusiasts, we’ve searched the toy market and picked five of the best race track sets. Free Slots Games at Slotomania.com - Casino Slot Machines for Everyone The slots machine, often known as the “one armed bandit”, became an icon of modern online gaming. At Slotomania, you can start playing your favorite slot games with crazy graphics, top of the line sound effects, and hundreds of variations to choose from.

Growing tomatoes in your aerogarden. Can it be done? How long will it take? What should you worry about? When do you cut and/or harvest them?

Well, guys like many times before I have done a ton of research, and tried many techniques to come up with the best results for you that I will present in this article.

Growing tomatoes all year long is now a possible mission. With your aerogarden you can have fresh tomatoes even in the winter. The tomato care should be really simple and should not require much maintenance. There are several tomato plants that you can grow, but if you have a small space, then I would recommend that you try cherry tomatoes.

If you want you can go check the latest price of the Red Heirloom cherry tomato seed pod kit on Amazon. Those are smaller tomatoes that will be better for your aerogarden in my opinion. The classical bigger tomatoes are sometimes too heavy and will require support. You can easily stick a wooden stick into the soil next to your plant if you are growing them outside, but with the use of an aerogarden your space is limited.

If you want, you can check my absolute favorite tomato seed pods HERE.

So how do you do it? It’s simple. Here is the whole 9 step process.

Well yes, you can, but if you do that you will have to be careful about spacing. If you have 4 slots in a row, then you would plant tomatoes on the far left slot and the pepper plant on the far right slot or the other way around. If you want you can plant some herbs in the to slots in between. AeroGarden tomatoes growth timeline. Aero Slots is a 5-reel, 5-payline game that takes its inspiration from one of mankind’s greatest achievements – flight.

This step does not include much effort. Just like before planting any other seed, you should clean and sanitize your aerogarden in advance. The only exception would be if you are using a brand new AeroGarden that has never been used before. You can find the whole process of cleaning and sterilizing your aerogarden here. After your system is totally clean, proceed to add water.

Make sure to set the light as close as you can to your system-to the lowest possible. Tomatoes do not need bright light, but they do need at least 16 hours of light per day. So set your timer that the lights will be turned off for 8 hours each day. Remember to move your light hood with the growth of the plant. There should be only about 1 to 2 inches of space between your light and your first tomato leaf.

Tomatoes require a lot of space, so if you are planting them, make sure to leave some space between them. Either don’t use the seed pod slots in between or plant something that requires as little space as possible, like basil. In outdoor gardening, tomatoes grow best in greenhouses, so make sure to put the domes on.

The amount of nutrients needed will vary, based on how many tomato plants you are going to be growing. Read the instructions on the package and follow them. If you have decided to go with nutrient tablets instead of liquid, you should use one tablet for three tomato plants. Both liquid and tablets should last for about two weeks, except if the nutrient reminder is on. Press the reset button every time you add nutrients so that the system will know it is recharged.

When your tomatoes start growing, make sure to remove the domes. When they reach about two inches tall, you should trim off all the weak sprouts from the plant. Be careful not to damage it and if you do it correctly, you should be left with one strong plant.

When your plant gets flowers, then it is time for it to get pollinated. Because your aerogarden is indoors, there probably won’t be any bees to do it for you. There is a way for you to do it on your own. You just shake the plant lightly and also you can blow on it really gently. Remember it does not take a lot to start this.

The right time for pruning would be about four weeks after planting them in your system. Pruning is performed in two steps. The first step requires cutting off the stem a little bit above the first five branches in the bottom. You can do this with regular scissors, just make sure that they are clean beforehand. You can skip this if your tomato already has flowers-blossoms.

All of the branches that are growing outside the light reach must be clipped off. If your light hood is on the highest setting, you have to also clip off the branches that are growing into the lights, so that there is at least a couple of inches of space in between the top branch and the light. The branches and stems that are growing outside the light reach, or are blocking the light will harm your plant. The ones that are outside the light will just be eating the energy without producing any tomatoes. The branches that are growing into the light will block the light itself and prevent the other branches from getting any energy from the light.

Tomatoes are heavy, sometimes too heavy for its branches. This is why you want to a piece of string (the best would be to take a string made of natural materials) and tie the overloaded branch to something. It can either be the lamp arm, or something that you have closest to it. If your branches break while the tomatoes are still green, they will never get red and ripe.

If you want to transplant your tomato plant outside there are a few things you should do first.

Trim your plant as much as you can. In the end, right before transplanting you should only be left with the strongest stem. It should not have any more than 5 small branches growing out of it.

Cut the roots just like you trimmed the upper side of the plant. Make sure you only leave the strongest roots. To get the tomato out of your seed pod you can also use gardening shears. Add water when you are finished with transplanting.

The tomato plant is going to grow the best at a temperature of about 75 degrees Fahrenheit or 24 degrees Celsius.

First of all, you are going to need a large pot. You will have to fill it up with soil and make a hole in the middle for your plant to go inside. When you are filling your pot with soil, fill just ¾ of it. It would best to use pre fertilized soil.

Second, you take out your plants. If you can, try to just pull them out of your grow baskets. This way you will be able to reuse them later. Wiggle them around for a bit and pull them off. If you have to trim the roots a bit, that is fine. Just make sure to also cut some branches if you have cut roots beforehand. This way the roots are still going to provide enough food for the whole plant.

If you did not succeed at preserving the grow basket, feel free to cut it. You can use ordinary scissors or gardening shears, but please be very careful. Plastic can be tricky to cut. You can compost any roots that you have cut off.

Plant your seedling in your soil-filled pot. It is always better to plant it deeper. After that fill the remaining space of the pot with soil. When your pot is full, at least one inch of the stem should be in the soil.

Once your tomato plant is in a pot you can now move it around. On the first day of transplanting you should put the tomato plant outside on sunlight for about 3 hours, the next day 5, and the next 7.. and so on until you have your plant outside 24 hours a day. This is when your plant is ready to be transplanted again, but this time it is going to be in your garden. If you want you can also leave your plant in the pot.

Tomato plant requires a lot of water so check on it daily to see if you have to add any. Also, keep in mind that tomatoes that will grow on it will get kind of heavy so support the branches. You can do this by sticking a wooden stick next to the plant and tie the branch that needs support to it.

It has been stated by the producer, that tomatoes, like other veggies, will last up to 6 months, which means that you will be able to harvest them for about 4 months. I, on the other hand, had some better results. My tomato plant has lived for 371 days. Yes, I have had a tomato plant in my kitchen for more than a year. I had to wait 2 months for the first harvest, but still, that left me with 10 months of harvesting small cherry tomatoes.

How to pick AeroGarden tomatoes?

You can pick them by holding them with 2 fingers and gently pulling them or twisting them. If you apply too much force you might end up breaking a whole branch off and with that, you destroy all the remaining tomatoes on it that are still green.

I would recommend that you get a bigger model if you are going to plant this seed. Keep in mind that they require a lot of space. You always have to leave at least one slot free between the larger plants. So my choice would be the farm model because of its huge capacity. The middle size models should be just as fine, but you won’t be able to grow as many at one time. If you own the Herbie model, then I would recommend planting something else like herbs.

Yes. You can mix them with some other pods but not all of them. The plants that would go best with tomatoes are definitely herbs. It is a great combination. Can you imagine eating pasta with homegrown tomatoes and basil? Or maybe some dill or parsley. Since you have to leave at least one slot free between the plants it would be smart to fill them up with something else that does not require a lot of space.

Well yes, you can, but if you do that you will have to be careful about spacing. If you have 4 slots in a row, then you would plant tomatoes on the far left slot and the pepper plant on the far right slot or the other way around. If you want you can plant some herbs in the to slots in between.

Week 1: The phase of Germination

This week is going to be a little bit tricky when you are planting tomato pods. You are going to have to make sure that the temperature is the best for the seed itself. Whenever you are adding water to your AeroGarden, please make sure that it is at room temperature-about 75 degrees Fahrenheit and add the recommended amount of plant food (nutrients) to get the most tomato-friendly growth environment. If you do not provide all of the above, you will probably have little to no success with your grow project.

Week 2: The phase of germination goes on

You are going to have to clip off the smallest of your sprouts. This is for ensuring your plant to make the most yields possible. I highly recommend that you prune your plant early so that your tomato can get the most energy possible. After that, you should see some sprouting happening. When it does, at about one inch, you should check every seed pod that you have. If the seed pod contains more than one tomato plant, you should clip the rest of them off using scissors. Always leave only the biggest plant and also make sure that it looks healthy. If not, you should cut it and leave the biggest healthy-looking one. You should give your plant about 3 weeks to sprout. If it does not, then your seed pod might be faulty.

Week 3&4: The last week of germination

This week you can just sit back and enjoy. Only make sure to add room temperature water and nutrients as needed. By now your plants are still too young to be pruned. You can take some photos of your seed pods every week, to see what the progress is and how well you are doing compared to other tomatoes that you can find online.

Week 5: Mid-Growth phase

Now is finally the time to clip the main stem. You should do this just above the sixth branch, that way you will strengthen the main stem, which is the most important for the plant itself. Keep in mind to support it if needed. This process will also make your plant produce the most blooms possible. If your plant has more blooms, it will pollinate much easier than with a lesser amount. If your main stem is strong enough, it might not need any support at all, but make sure to check on it frequently as your tomatoes start growing.

Week 6: The mid growth phase continues

This week, you will probably have to prune some of your branches. Prune the ones that are growing outside your light reach, because they will not produce any fruit and will only eat the food and take energy from the plant itself. Cut the branches where they meet other branches. This will probably take you about 10 minutes in total. And by now you should already wonder how tasty your tomatoes will be, right?

Week 7: Here they come!

By now (and also a bit earlier) there should be small yellow flowers on your plant. If they were pollinated, they will develop into small tomatoes. If not they will fall off and produce nothing. The tomato plant is one of the most strict plants when it comes to pollination. If the flowers missed it, they will be useless. If you are growing tomatoes outside you do not have to worry, because the pollination will be done by mainly wind or bees and on some occasions some other insects. We recommend that you try to pollinate your plant on a daily basis, but make sure to always have the AeroGarden lights on when you are doing it.

Week 8: The finish line

On week 8 your flowers should slowly start transforming into fruits. If they failed to do so, make sure to give them just a couple more days. But if your plant did not get any flowers by now, maybe it would be the right time to request a refund on them. Oh, and I almost forgot-keep pollinating them!

Week 9: Taste test-Hooray!

If you have followed all of the steps correctly, then you should by now be eating your fresh tomatoes. Do not use much force when you are harvesting your plant. Keep in mind that tomatoes are very sensitive to touch. Once I used too much force and broke one branch, that had about 5 tomatoes on it that will never ripen. Bon appetite!

Because tomatoes are one of the longest-lasting plants, your water might get really dirty. I personally would recommend that you change out the water in your system at least every 6 months. The ideal number is about 4 and a half months. When you are letting the water out you can also use that opportunity to clean your system a bit. Yo do not have to sanitize it, just make sure to clean it a little bit with a paper towel. If you lifted your lid, now would also be the perfect time to clip off some of the dead roots but only if there are any. If all of your roots look healthy, do not remove any of them. Clipping off the extra roots will take place when (and only if) you will decide to transplant your tomato seed pod outside.

Tomatoes can be grown in an aerogarden, but if you have a smaller model then I would recommend going with the smaller cherry tomato seed pod kit. The best one that I have tried is without a doubt Red Heirloom. You really want to take care of your plant and prune it for the best possible results. If you do, you can make your seed pods last even more than six months! There have been reports on amazon reviews saying that some tomatoes have lasted more than 210 days (7 months) and by the time this review was written the plant itself was still alive and kicking with more than 50 cherry tomatoes on it. Personally, the best I have achieved is exactly 371 days (12 months) but then I have decided to switch and try something new. And the taste? Those had to be one of the most delicious tomatoes I have ever tasted in my life. The best plants to go on your platform next to tomatoes are definitely herbs. You can try other plants too, but since this plant takes up so much space that you have to leave some slots free it would be smart to fill them up with something that will be able to grow in such a small space. Transplanting the plant will take you some time but will be worth it. The space in your system is limited but in your garden, there will be much more space for growth hence more fruit for your meals.

If you try this out please let me know how it worked out and what did they taste like in the comments!

Slots aéreos. Un desafío para las líneas aéreas

Dra. Mirtha Cantiano

Los slots aéreos son un verdadero problema para las líneas aéreas, ya que todas desean las mejores franjas horarias y sobre todo la titularidad de un derecho para ellas imprescindible, pero el cual no es a perpetuidad; es por ello que las reglamentaciones existentes han tratado de poner orden en este tema, aunque solamente la jurisprudencia tendrá la última palabra.

Aeropuertos coordinados y la titularidad de los derechos: en los aeropuertos puede ocurrir que existan problemas de capacidad para algún período de programación y esto obliga al Estado, en virtud de la normativa existente en Europa, a designar al aeropuerto como coordinado. Esto último implica que los slots sólo serán asignados por el coordinador del aeropuerto.

I. Definición(arriba)

SLOTS es un concepto que significa intervalo de tiempo, por lo general limitado, dentro del cual un avión tiene la obligación de transitar sobre un determinado punto(1).

Pero como dice FRANCO STACCIOLI, el slot aeroportuale representa la ventana de tiempo que un determinado vuelo tiene a su disposición en un aeropuerto para satisfacer sus exigencias comerciales (embarco y desembarco de pasajeros y equipaje, carga de combustible, catering, etc. ).

II. Los Slots y la Comunidad Europea(arriba)

Podemos decir que para que los aviones de las distintas empresas aéreas puedan aterrizar o despegar de los aeropuertos en una franja determinada de tiempo, necesitan un permiso que se denomina slot o franja horaria aeroportuaria(2).

Existe un sistema de estandarización mundial en cuanto a la forma en que dichos derechos son reconocidos por la normativa nacional y europea; se siguen los criterios de la IATA (Internacional Air Transport Association). En la Comunidad Europea podemos encontrar la regulación de las franjas horarias en el Reglamento 95/93 del Consejo, del 18 de enero de 1993, el cual ha sufrido varias modificaciones, la más importante a través del Reglamento (CEE) 793/2004(3).

Cuando no existen inconvenientes para acceder a dichos derechos y las empresas aéreas pueden obtenerlos en virtud de sus preferencias, el sistema se caracteriza por la voluntariedad o autorregulación. En el caso de existir dificultades la normativa comunitaria sigue las directrices de la IATA, teniendo en cuenta la facilitación de horarios y la coordinación(4). Esto nos lleva al concepto de aeropuerto coordinado y no coordinado. El aeropuerto coordinado es: “…un aeropuerto en el cual para aterrizar y o decolar es necesario la existencia de un vettore aéreo u otro operador de aeronaves que haya obtenido la asignación de una banda horaria de parte de un coordinador”(5).

El principio de uso o pérdida de este derecho significa que una empresa aérea puede conservar sus franjas horarias de una temporada a otra, a condición de que haya hecho uso de al menos el 80% de las franjas asignadas en la temporada anterior. Aunque existen excepciones como lo ocurrido en los años 2001-2002, 2003(6) en dichos períodos se permitió a las líneas aéreas reducir su actividad sin perder sus franjas horarias(7).

Un aeropuerto con horarios facilitados son aquellos aeropuertos en los cuales existe un riesgo de congestión en algunos períodos del día, de la semana o del año, lo cual puede resolverse eventualmente gracias a la cooperación voluntaria de vectores aéreos y en los cuales se ha designado un facilitador de los horarios, cuyo deber es facilitar la actividad de los vectores aéreos que operan o intentan operar en tales aeropuertos(8).

Cuando nos referimos a aeropuertos con horarios facilitados debemos tener en cuenta las dificultades que provoca la congestión aeroportuaria en ciertas horas del día, de la semana o del año. Los mismos pueden reducirse en virtud de acuerdos voluntarios entre las empresas bajo la supervisión del facilitador.

En Italia se fundó en el año 1997, la Associazione Assoclearance, que es la encargada de coordinar la asignación de las bandas horarias en los aeropuertos italianos coordinados. La asignación permite al vector utilizar la infraestructura a fin de aterrizar o decolar por un período por el cual se lo ha solicitado.

El Ministerio de Infraestructura y del Transporte ha clasificado como aeropuertos coordinados las escalas de: Bergamo, Cagliari, Catania, Firenze, Milano-Malpensa, Milano-Linate, Napoli, Palermo, Roma Ciampino, Roma Fiumicino, Torino, Venecia, Lampeduza y Pantelleria solamente en período estival. Como aeropuertos de horarios facilitados, las escalas de Bolonia, Pisa y Verona.

III. Aeropuertos coordinados y la titularidad de los derechos(arriba)

En los aeropuertos puede ocurrir que existan problemas de capacidad para algún período de programación; esto obliga al Estado Miembro en virtud de la normativa existente a designar al aeropuerto como coordinado. Esto último implica que los slots sólo serán asignados por el coordinador del aeropuerto(9). Pero es cada Estado Miembro quien establecerá la asignación de los parámetros de coordinación. Para ello el art. 6 del Reglamento mencionado es muy claro al referirse a dichos parámetros como: “la expresión en términos operativos de toda la capacidad disponible en un aeropuerto para asignarla en franjas durante cada período de coordinación, que reflejará todos los factores técnicos y operativos y medioambientales que influyen en el funcionamiento de la infraestructura aeroportuaria y de sus subsistemas”(10).

En este punto es necesario introducir otro concepto que es el de las franjas horarias; estas son un mínimo de cinco franjas solicitadas para un período de programación a la misma hora, por lo general el mismo día de la semana y asignada de esa manera si esto no es posible, lo más cercano a la misma hora(11). Es decir, la capacidad de un aeropuerto se asigna en franjas horarias.

El problema se plantea cuando las empresas aéreas consideran que esto no es un derecho sino una propiedad, es así como muchas de ellas incluyen los slots dentro de su balance comercial como verdaderos activos. Es verdad que las empresas pueden intercambiarse estos derechos pero no son derechos de propiedad, así lo ha establecido el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004; son derechos otorgados por el poder público. El presente Reglamento así lo establece: “…permiso dado por un coordinador de conformidad con el presente Reglamento para utilizar toda la infraestructura aeroportuaria necesarias con fines de aterrizaje y despegue en una fecha y hora determinada asignadas por un coordinador de conformidad con el presente Reglamento para la prestación de un servicio aéreo en un aeropuerto coordinado”(12).

El problema subsiste y subsistirá en la medida en que los slots sean considerados por la empresas aéreas como una manifestación del derecho de acceso a una instalación como es el aeropuerto. VILLAR ROJAS es muy didáctico al decir que: “…una instalación o una infraestructura sin la cual las empresas de la competencia no podrían ejercer sus servicios al público”(13) generando una situación de dependencia económica que puede oponerse a todo tipo de competencia efectiva(14).

Es necesario resaltar que sin slots no hay mercado aéreo, ya que su existencia es imposible de imaginar. Las empresas aéreas precisan de estos derechos de aterrizaje y despegue para suministrar sus servicios.

El artículo 10 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93 regula el fondo de reserva de franjas horarias; el mismo fue reformado en el año 2009 con la finalidad de que las empresas aéreas pudieran reducir su capacidad y mantener sus derechos de despegue y aterrizaje. Esta medida fue aprobada por vía de urgencia ya que la idea era disminuir los efectos de la crisis económica sobre el transporte aéreo.

En España, el régimen sancionador era regulado por el Real Decreto-ley 15/2001, de 2 de noviembre, que concretamente regulaba el régimen sancionador en materia de slots, pero esta normativa fue derogada y sustituida por la efectuada mediante la Ley 21/2003 del 8 de julio de Seguridad Aérea. El artículo 49 de dicha Ley tipifica las infracciones en relación con la coordinación de los aeropuertos y el uso de las franjas horarias.

Otro elemento a tener en cuenta es que en la Unión Europea las regulaciones sobre los slots facilitan a los estados miembros la posibilidad de reservar estos derechos beneficiando algunas empresas aéreas en el caso de existir rutas sometidas a obligaciones de servicio público. El artículo 9 del Reglamento 95/93 prevé la posibilidad de reservar slots para esas rutas. Es por ello que “…Con arreglo al artículo 9 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93 del Consejo, de 18 de enero de 1993 relativo a las normas comunes para la asignación de franjas horarias aeroportuarias en los aeropuertos comunitarios, modificado por el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004 del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo, los organismos competentes podrán reservar franjas horarias para la prestación de los servicios conforme a las modalidades previstas en el presente documento”(15).

En otros casos se solicita los derechos del coordinador y se establece que el cumplimiento de los horarios será bajo la condición de que pueda disponerse de las franjas horarias correspondientes(16). Recordemos que el Reglamento (CEE) 2408/92 fue derogado y sustituido por el Reglamento (CE) 1008/2008. Por consiguiente es necesario concluir que el sistema de imposición del servicio público en una ruta aérea está sujeto a un elemento operativo relacionado con el funcionamiento del aeropuerto y a un elemento técnico que sin lugar a dudas puede llegar a destruir la valoración de necesidad que debe realizarse.

IV. La lucha por la obtención de los slots aéreos(arriba)

Conforme a lo precedentemente expresado en párrafos anteriores, arribamos al problema que se suscita si dos o más empresas aéreas desean prestar servicios en una determinada ruta sometida a obligaciones de servicio público, pero no existen slots suficientes. En este caso el artículo 9.2 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, resuelve este conflicto de la siguiente manera:

“…En caso de que más de una compañía aérea comunitaria esté interesada en prestar servicios en dicha ruta aérea (sometida a obligaciones de servicio público) y no haya podido obtener franjas horarias situadas dentro de un margen de una hora antes o después de los horarios solicitados al coordinador, se recurrirá a los procedimientos de licitación establecidos en las letras d) a g) y en la letra i) del apartado 1 del artículo 4 del Reglamento (CEE), n· 2408/92 para la utilización de las franjas horarias mencionadas en el apartado 1”.

Pero las obligaciones del servicio público también afectan al funcionamiento del fondo de reserva, como ya hemos dicho en párrafos anteriores; el transportista aéreo debe utilizar esos derechos de slots en su totalidad o por lo menos en un 80% para que se le puedan asignar en la temporada siguiente. De lo contrario, perderá las franjas horarias para la siguiente temporada, éstas ingresarán en un fondo de reserva, y serán asignadas a los operadores que la soliciten.

Pero el Reglamento(17) establece ciertas causas que pueden ser interpuestas a fin de que este hecho no ocurra y el transportista pueda conservar las franjas horarias. Estas causas son denominadas circunstancias imprevisibles e inevitables, que impiden efectuar sus operaciones. Las mismas pueden ser: mal funcionamiento del aeropuerto, cierre del espacio aéreo, alteraciones graves que inciden de un aeropuerto a otro, situaciones de paralización de las operaciones producidas por una huelga, etc.

La Reforma del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, llevada a cabo a través del Reglamento (CE) 793/2004 introdujo una nueva causa relacionada con las obligaciones de servicio público, afectando a la existencia de acciones judiciales. Esta causa implica la aplicación del artículo 9, el cual prevé la reserva de franjas horarias en aeropuertos coordinados para rutas de servicio público que impliquen una suspensión temporal de las operaciones en esta ruta. Es la postura expresada a través de la Posición Común n· 22/2004, de 19 de febrero de 2004, y en cuanto a los elementos necesarios para su aplicación encontramos: la existencia de un proceso judicial; el objeto de dicho proceso debe versar sobre el artículo 9 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, es decir la asignación indebida de dichos derechos por parte del coordinador a favor de alguna compañía aérea en contra de los intereses de otra; la falta de uso es la que debe haber dado lugar al proceso.

En conclusión, como podemos observar el problema de los slots aéreos es de suma importancia para las líneas aéreas, elemento esencial para su desarrollo comercial. En cuanto a la lucha por estos derechos podemos decir que esta es una cuestión que sólo la jurisprudencia podrá dilucidar, pero no obstante el Reglamento permite al operador aéreo defenderse basándose en causas de justificación que el mismo Reglamento establece y conservar así el derecho a las franjas horarias asignadas con anterioridad.

BIBLIOGRAFIA

- AMEDEO ODONI, et.al. The global airline industry, Oxford, Wiley, 2009.

- Circular ENAC EAL 18, del 24 de agosto de 2009, sobre la Asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos nacionales coordinados.

- CZERNY I. Airport slots, London, Scholars Press, 2008.

- CODICE DELLA NAVEGAZIONE ITALIANO, RD. 30 de marzo 1942, n. 327, aggiornato alla legge 26 febbraio 2010, n. 25.

- GONZALEZ SANFIEL A., Las obligaciones del servicio público en el transporte aéreo, Madrid, Lustel, 2010.

Slot Aroma

- MARTÍN D. et.al., Orientación al mercado en los sistemas de gestión de las empresas de transporte aéreo, Madrid, Editorial Universitaria Ramón Areces, 2005.

- OFICINA DE PUBLICACIONES DE LAS COMUNIDADES EUROPEAS, Acuerdos aéreos internacionales, Luxemburgo, 2004.

- REGLAMENTO (CE) n. 545/2009, del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo del 18 de junio de 2009, el cual modifica el Reglamento (CEE) n. 95/93 referente a las normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- REGLAMENTO (CE), n.793/2004, del Parlamento Europeo y del Consejo del 21 de abril de 2004 que modifica el Reglamento (CEE) n. 95/93 del Consejo del 18 de enero de 1993, relativas a normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- REGLAMENTO (CE) n. 95/93, del Consejo de 18 de enero de 1993 referente a las normas comunes para la asignación de bandas horarias en los aeropuertos de la Comunidad Europea.

- SILINGARDI, GABRIELE, Gli slots, il caso Italia fra esperienza statiunitense e comunitaria, Milano, Cedam, 1997.

- TRUYOL MATEU S., Transporte aéreo e ingeniería aeroportuaria, Madrid , Delta, 2006.

- VILLAR ROJAS F., Las instalaciones esenciales para la competencia, Granada, Editorial Comares, 2004.

Slot Airplanes

------------------------------------------------------- (1) RIZZARDO TREBBI, DIZIONARIO AERONAUTICO, Torino, Ceedam, 1994, p. 23. (2) M. GOMEZ PUENTE, La coordinación aeroportuaria: naturaleza y régimen jurídico de las franjas horarias (slots), en Régimen Jurídico del transporte aéreo, Dialnet, 2005, p.443. (3) DOUE, 30 de abril de 2004. (4) REGLAMENTO (CE), 95/93. (5) ENAC, ENTE NAZIONALES PER DELL’AVIAZIONE CIVILE. (6) La Comisión Europea, ha propuesto una congelación temporal de esta regla durante la temporada de verano 2009, de abril a octubre. Bruselas ha decidido en virtud de la crisis prorrogarla durante la campaña de invierno 2009-2010, pudiendo decidir una eventual prórroga. (7) Asesoría de compañías españolas de transporte aéreo, Al Vuelo (Boletín Interno), Asesoría de Comunicación n. 51 abril 2009. (8) ENAC, cit. (9) Artículo 3.3. y 4.5 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93. (10) Artículo 2, letra K) del Reglamento (CE) 95/96. (11) Artículo 8 del Reglamento (CE) 95/96. (12) Artículo 2, letra a) del Reglamento (CE) 95/93, modificado por el Reglamento (CE) 793/2004. (13) F. VILLAR ROJAS, Las instalaciones esenciales para la competencia, Granada, 2004. (14) Sentencia del Tribunal de Justicia de 6 de abril de 1995 (Caso Magill) apartado 24. (15) Comunicación de la Comisión sobre imposición por Italia de obligaciones de servicio público a los servicios aéreos regulares interiores (2007/C 228/04) en la ruta aérea Cuneo Levaldigi-Roma Fumicino y viceversa, DOUE de 28 de septiembre de 2007. (16) Comunicación de la Comisión, relativa a la imposición de obligaciones de servicio público con arreglo al Reglamento (CEE) 2408/92 del Consejos en relación a servicios aéreos regulares dentro de Alemania (2007/C 149/07), ruta aérea Erfurt – Munich, DOUE de 3 de julio de 2007. (17) Artículo 10.4 del Reglamento (CE) 95/93.

Slot Acronym

Slot Air Diffuser

© Copyright: Revista Latino Americana de Derecho Aeronáutico