#send help this guy has too many names and no tags to speak of

[darkrooklobby]

made a meme at 3 am, this anime is older than me, and i'm old too 🙃 Send help 🙃👍✨

[morganas-pendragons]

The Prophecy | Celebrimbor

Guys. The brainrot is all consuming. Send help.

I was listening to the Tortured Poets Department the other day and felt like this really fits with what I’ve written for him so far. I know I’m writing this plot out of order, but it will eventually all make sense. I am still training at work, and while that constitutes nothing for me, it means I have too much time on my hands.

This will fit into the 3 part fic called Where Are You? that will cover 2x06-2x08. I haven't rewatched 2x08 yet, but that's coming. I have so many ideas for you guys that I may just start rapid fire releasing the drabbles first.

next fic is for High King Gil-Galad

Secondly, this concept is turning into an OC fic. It will be on Ao3 by the end of this year!

Tag: @pentaghasm @celebrimbormylove @thesolarangel @wild-typo-turtle @ladyoflindon @sandwichmustbetasty

Song inspiration: The Prophecy - Taylor Swift

Prompt: You ruminate on what little you remember in your purpose of being in Eregion while Celebrimbor sleeps at your side. The Valar may grant mercy on occasion, but you wonder if this ends in doom for you both.

***

Things are beginning to come back in pieces. You aren’t exactly sure why. There are flashes of gentle eyes and gray hair. Whispered words in Quenya as you perfect your natural healing ability. Your name, the real one given to you, but you don’t remember by who. Not yet.

You prefer the name given to you by Celebrimbor.

Said elf lays beneath your palm, breathing steady even as he sleeps. You had been the one to seek him out for comfort this time. It was a rare night of him succumbing to sleep early, and so you had sought him out in desperation, aching for the comfort of Celebrimbor’s embrace to shelter you from your memories.

You’d forgotten until you’d fallen into his bed how far away he was. It didn’t matter that you could feel his heartbeat, or touch his skin. He was worlds away from you.

And all because of Annatar.

Now you lay here, head pillowed against his chest, fingers tracing shapes against his abdomen, too distracted by your racing thoughts to sleep. Annatar’s constant demands and high expectations in the crafting of the Rings had put you both on edge. Celebrimbor had been elusive as well. So much of his time was spent locked away in The Forge, just out of reach.

He’d never deny you. Not even with the distance between you both.

No one but you could feel the dark magic in that room. The shadows that shrouded the elf you love, even now, so suffocating that it remains difficult to breathe.

“Please,” You whisper. No one may be listening. You have no idea. You would beg whatever entity did listen for this. “Please do not let this end in doom.”

With the trajectory of what was occurring, you had been trying to fight the impending sense of doom lingering in your heart for weeks. The nagging feeling in the back of your head that you are to be preparing for a funeral for you or Celebrimbor by the conclusion.

Or both of you.

You shiver at the thought and bury your face in Celebrimbor’s shoulder. His arm tightens around you instinctively, like the elf you’ve fallen in love with still resides deep within the recesses of the mind he’s been made prisoner in.

Please, I’ve been on my knees

Change the prophecy

“He’s so good,” You whisper. “Everything he does is from the goodness of his heart. A kind heart.” You hold your breath as your tears collide with Celebrimbor’s skin, causing him to shift beneath you and press his face into your hair with a quiet grumble. You don’t dare speak again until you’re sure he’s asleep. “All of Celebrimbor’s intentions have been pure. He wants to do right by his people and rectify the sins and shortcomings of the House of Fëanor. This should not end in ruin. Not his.”

Don’t want money, just someone who wants my company

Let it once be me

You wish you could pull him out. Use your magic to break through the darkness that has settled upon this city, settled upon him, and force your way through the walls Annatar has erected to keep him complacent. It is Celebrimbor’s own chains that keep him prisoner.

Chains built by pride and ambition.

No. If anything, Celebrimbor will have to awaken from the depths of this illusion when the stakes are too high and he has something to lose.

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo the prophecy??

You run your free hand to rest your fingertips against his temple, smiling against the curve of his cheek as Celebrimbor begins to stir beneath you. Heavy lidded eyes flutter open to meet your own. In those few moments of silence, you can see him.

“Why-“ Celebrimbor starts, cut off by a yawn as he buries his face in your neck and rolls to slot a leg between yours. The action has you blushing as you raise your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair. The action usually puts him right back to sleep. “It isn’t even dawn yet, love. Why are you awake?”

You contemplate an answer for several seconds. Part of you wants to tell him, to confide in him about that underlying fear of ruin, but you don’t. You don’t know what he’ll say if you directly mention Annatar.

You don’t even know if you could trust in him not repeating what you’ve said to Annatar.

So you instead allow him to place a lingering kiss at the corner of your jaw, humming softly as his fingers soothe your body's aches by massaging at your hip.

You’re so tired.

“Too much to ruminate on. My mind will not let me rest.” You reply. Celebrimbor frowns, the furrow in his brow deepening as concern flashes behind his eyes. “I will be fine. You sleep, my love. I will be here when you wake.”

Celebrimbor does not complain. He can't. Too many times have you been the one to hold him, to shelter him from the storm of his own mind as he wakes briefly enough to seek you out. Too many times have you been the one to leave food at his table, to bring him tea, to offer him your company when his solitude becomes too great to bear.

Too many times have you fallen back asleep while Celebrimbor wept in the silence.

You hear Celebrimbor whisper his, "I love you." before settling again, this time with his hand pressed against your stomach and his hair tickling your nose. The sheer vulnerability of being so willing to sleep in a position like this when you've been apart for weeks has tears burning the back of your eyes.

Who do I have to speak to To change the prophecy?

You hold him there on the precipice of sleep and allow, for just this moment, your fear to breach the surface.

"Please," You whisper. "Please, just this once, grant us mercy."

***

And far above the reaches of Middle Earth, she heard you.

The Lady of Mercy and Grief did not ignore the suffering of those who dared to reach for her.

[cerisahh]

YOUNG LOVE

pairings — toritsuka reita x reader

request — hiii!! i was wondering if u could do some toritsuka reita x f reader headcanons where the reader is also a medium? TYSM 🙏 - @lawlietkitty

tags — fluff, mentions of dead people (ghosts), toristuka is socially awkward lmfao, saiki is sick of his bs, so is aiura, reader finds it cute, toritsuka has a crush on you, he's down BAD, quick cameo from the PK psykicks (i love them), toritsuka 'the freak' reita's redemption arc basically

cerisa speaks — i got u my good sis, i barely see anything for toritsuka so i am happy to be one of the few who write for him. references to episodes might not be accurate it’s been a year since i’ve last watched

・　naturally, as a new transfer student, you are the talk of the school for a few days.

・　you’re set up in class three, and you quickly make friends with a girl sat next to you - aiura mikoto.

・　class goes smoothly, not many ghosts linger whilst lessons are ongoing, so none of the deceased are able to distract you.

・　break doesn’t go as peacefully as your first few lessons. people from other classes come into yours to introduce themselves to you. aiura manages to shoo them away and introduce you to her friends.

・　you only get to exchange greetings with yumehara and smile as aiura says saiki’s name before toritsuka works his way into the conversation.

・　he is practically bouncing off the walls and salivating at the prospect of a new female student. aiura was fine, but she was infatuated with saiki.

・　plus she was super mean to him.

・　so he formulated a foolproof plan. he allows a ghost to possess his body in order to smooth talk you.

・　unfortunately for him you can sense that there’s two souls possessing one body. but your eyes do light up, this guy must be a spirit medium too!

・　you actually don’t have to do anything to the spirit inhabiting his body because saiki started sending threatening messages directly to toritsuka’s brain in order for the spirit to leave.

・　you ask toritsuka if he’s a medium and he’s SOOO FUCKING SMUG because he assumes that someone told you about him.

・　“heh, my reputation precedes me. want me to tell you who your guardian spirit is?”

・　you unintentionally humble him (to the delight of saiki) real quick by telling him you’re a medium too. guy literally turns three shades redder and is like oh! ok, that’s fine - cool! that’s great. YOU’RE great - I MEAN THAT YOU’RE A MEDIUM TOO. that’s great. haha… (awkward laughter)

・　he’s embarrassed to talk to you after that. he’s kicking himself for blowing another chance with a pretty girl 😭

・　anyways, you decide to branch out a little and find people with similar interest to you, so, you join the occult club!

・　obviously toritsuka created the club so he could get girls but when you walk he’s locked in. god has given him a second chance and man is not gonna waste it.

・　he begs saiki to help him get closer to you (“not indecently this time, saiki! please help me! just one chance - i’ll do anything PLEASE 🙏 ”)

・　what a pain.

・　so all the members of the club end up going on a night trip trekking through the woods, and you split up into teams of two.

・　kaidou is with yumehara, saiki is with makino, and toritsuka paired himself with you.

・　it’s dark and the forest is filled with creatures of the night - and a few ghosts. you two actually get into a pretty deep chat about your abilities. when they manifested, what you can do, etc.

・　you learn that he can force his soul into another body and take over - which you can’t do. in turn, you have the ability to exorcise ghosts and send them to where they wish to be.

・　it’s pretty healing to talk to someone who more or less shares the same experiences as you. you guys get so familiar that he accidentally slips up and tells you about saiki’s powers.

・　then there’s a voice in your head: you will not tell anyone that i am a psychic. if you slip up like that inept creep you’ll regret it.

・　you affirm that you won’t tell anyone about him - and then bug him to not read your mind because that’s creepy - then turn back to toritsuka who looks paler than a ghost. and you would know because there’s one behind him. saiki definitely scared the shit out of him with whatever he said.

・　that night ends with toritsuka complaining about saiki (which you're pretty sure he can still... hear? you don't say or think anything bad about him just in case) and getting scared shitless by an owl that flew directly into his face.

・　thanks to toritsuka’s idiocy - you get integrated into the PK psykicks! a group only three (now four) people know about!

・　aiura is ecstatic, saiki is indifferent, and toritsuka is pretty much smitten.

・　toritsuka freaky as hell as we all know, but that’s just because he’s… freaky as hell.

・　but… he hasn’t ever had a crush before??? girls he thought were hot? sure. crushes? not since you came and messed up how his brain is wired.

・　everyone, and i mean EVERYONE soon notices how much toritsuka has mellowed out - no more accosting and fraternising with random female students. it’s like he’s only looking at you.

・　even saiki is like damn, maybe he isn’t actually all that bad.

・　he’s really trying to make this work. he doesn’t want to do anything to make you want to leave.

・　he does eventually work up the courage to ask you on an official date at a notorious couples spot. you agree to meet up with him there.

・　you know that hidden fist pump people do when they’re super happy something has worked out? as soon as your back has turned to leave that’s what he does.

・　“i saw that.” — “n-no you didn’t!”

・　first date goes swimmingly. toritsuka is visibly nervous but cools considerably once you carry the conversation.

・　a few regular ghosts you guys see around a lot actually come up and speak with you two, to tease, congratulate, and remiss on their own memories with their partners.

・　one ghost couple who you tend to see floating about outside the temple toritsuka lives at comes and speak with you both also. the elder man jests at his grandson finally going on a proper date with a lady and ruffles his hair. (well, tries to ruffle his hair - his hand phases through toritsuka’s skull)

・　the night ends off on a high note, with reita (as he now insists you call him) walks you home.

© CERISAHH 2024

[turbulentscrawl]

Could we get some hc stuff for weeping? He never gets any love. Your work is amazing btw ♡

Thank you!

You know, before this I honestly kept forgetting he exists...but after doing a lore dive and doing these general hcs I'm feeling like he's going to become a favorite.

As a note for tagging, I typically use a character's human name for my blog's tagging system, but since "Joker" is a name used in so many fandoms, his will be "weeping clown x reader"

As always, if you guys like my work consider sending me a request!

Identity(V) Headcanons: Joker

-The acid which scarred him was only mixed with his colored face paints. The white base he uses didn’t harm him, so the scarring he has is mostly around his mouth and down from his eyes, following the shape of the red lips and teardrops he painted on. He still wears face paint most days to try and cover what he can of the scarring, but he’s paranoid about what he uses now. He keeps his paints locked away where others can’t access them, and always tests them on his arm before using them on his face.

-Joker has very little self-worth. It goes beyond basic insecurity, though he has plenty of that as well. His entire reason for living is based on the value he has to other people. At first, that’s restricted to just the way he can bring a bit of joy to the Hullabaloo crowds, and the few shallow friendships he’d made along the way. When Margaretha entered the picture, though, it began to twist into something even more unhealthy.

-He still has some remaining love for Margaretha, but he’s more withdrawn from her. He was disfigured, he did something horrible, and she left. But if it really came down to it, and he had no one else to talk him out of it, he probably would continue going to her whenever she calls, albeit with more inner turmoil. It goes back to that self-worth again; Margaretha makes him feel like he can be a valued protector regardless of not being very physically capable.

-At his core, Joker is a very kind and sympathetic person. He cares about others, their wellbeing and happiness, and even in a world without the above self-worth struggles he would go out of his way to help people…

-But he’s become a bit jaded since the massacre. A bit angry, even. No one did anything when he was the sole victim. No one stood up for him like he stood up for others. No one cared about his disfigured face because now it matches his disfigured body, right? …but he makes himself swallow those feelings when they start to bubble over. He doesn’t want to be that person. He doesn’t want to add more cruelness to the world.

-He’s on the quiet side. I wouldn’t go so far as to call him mute, but he chooses his words very carefully. If ever he’s unsure of what to say he would rather say nothing than ramble aimlessly. When he does speak, it’s with long pauses and shifting, thinking eyes. Conversations with him tend to move at a crawl.

-He likes gentle people. Eccentric people are fun too, but he prefers gentleness if he must choose one over the other. He got along with Mike before the massacre, but events like that have a way of either cementing or shattering bonds and theirs took the latter hit. I think he’d get along well with several people in the manor, including Luca, Emma, Victor, Eli, and Helena. He’s not exceptionally close with any of them, but few people dislike his presence.

-He’s very good at telling all manner of jokes, but he rarely does anymore. That’s a development from before even the massacre; he was required to employ depreciating humor on stage, both of himself and others, and over the years it caused him to grow heavy with guilt. Now, he may shoot off a pun occasionally, but even that is rare. He really doesn’t like to be the one joking around anymore.

-He does still like doing tricks, though! They’re not his specialty, but he didn’t go all that time in the circus without picking up a thing or two. He’s more than happy to show off these skills if they entertain his friends.

-He’s really good at finding things? It’s basically a supernatural power. If you ever lose something in the manor, he’s a good bet to check in with before you tear your room apart. Honestly sometimes he just shows up to return things before someone even knows they’ve lost it.

-Joker is completely touch starved. At first glance it may seem the opposite, as he tends to move away from incoming contact, but this is only because he often doesn’t know what to expect. As far as kind touches go, he’s given more than he’s received, and always with a nervous, shaking hand. When he has some kind of relationship where contact is both safe and common, he’s attached to your hip.

-On that note, Physical Touch is the best love language for Joker. He also appreciates the other four, but touch is his favorite. He’s a very clingy partner who always wants to sit shoulder-to-shoulder or hold hands. If his partner is less than enthused about PDA, he’s okay with more subtle touches as well, such as hooking your ankles together under the dinner table. Rebuffing his desire for contact too many times can and will result in some seriously hurt feelings. A relationship between him and someone averse to touch probably wouldn’t work in the long run.

[mammalsofaction]

Wedding Adventure, PART 1

Rating: T (swear words)

Ship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Human Perry, mute Perry, rewrite of Candace's Big Day, established relationship Perryshmirtz, marriage fic baybee, this was fun to write, all the Flynn-Fletchers and most of the Doofenshmirtzes are here.

Part 2 coming soon. (subscribe to this post)

A/N: The family knows they are OWCA agents, this is an AU where OWCA isn't a secret organisation, or at least not to family and loved ones. Heinz and Perry are both established OWCA agents, though Heinz still used to be an evil scientist. Perry's lore complies to the lore post I've made on him before.

---

"-weren't too angry about it, but a monkey was a monkey, and we are henceforth completely blacklisted from attending another political wedding in South India ever again."

The Flynn-Fletchers make appropriate ooh-and-ahhing noises, and Perry closes their large scrapbook album with some satisfying thump of finality, leaning back against the couch's backrest into his Heinz's embrace as Linda engages him in lighthearted discussions of grandeur wedding traditions and cultural holidays. Ferb struggles a bit with trying to properly peep the the front cover of the album from where he's standing on the carpet facing Perry, so Lawrence picks him up to put him on his lap, and Perry angles the book so the boy could enjoy touching it and appreciating all the details. He appreciates the boy's clear admiration; Perry deeply enjoys scrapbooking, and the album is a point of pride.

“Wow, Uncle Perry,” Phineas gushes, where he's practically sitting on Heinz's foot to for a closer look at the photos. “You and Dr. D has had so many cool adventures together!”

I know, huh? Perry signed, and ruffling the boy's hair. Ferb had boldly taken it upon himself to flip through the pages of the album to admire all the photos they had been showing before. He points a photo taken ground camera angle, looking up as they were jumping off a plane.

He remembers that one. Heinz had somehow gotten his parachute lines tangled then, jumping down the side of an active Volcano line in Indonesia. They reached the ground in one piece though, generally speaking.

“Yeah, you liked that one, kid?” Heinz asked, smiling. He always tried to be attentive to the boys' interests as possible, not least because he saw a lot of himself in them, and the childhood he could have had, had his own insatiable curiosity and intelligence was humored instead of scorned. Perry couldn't help himself from planting a kiss on his cheek, as Heinz turned the page to show them both the least blurry photo they could keep of a video as they escaped from man-eating piranha plants in the amazon.

Candace sighed wistfully at the sight. ”You guys are so cute together. I wish me and Jeremy are gonna grow up as close and affectionate you guys still are even after 5 years.”

Phineas clearly disagreed, at least from the confused scrunch of his nose by their blatant display of PDA, but he's way too polite-and distracted- to comment. Perry chortles, and ruffles his hair.

He wonders if their neighbour's kid from across the street- what was her name? Isabelle? -still had the blatant crush she had on Phineas since he had last seen her. Linda's boy still clearly had other priorities in mind, poor girl.

Ferb flips over to the back of the scrapbook to reveal empty pages, at which point he turns to face the both of them inquisitively.

“Ferb's right, Uncle Perry,” Phineas verbally agrees. “There's still some empty pages in your scrapbook. So many more adventures!”

“Good point, boys. Any plans for the rest of summer?” Lawrence asked.

”Well, we are going to go to the Galapagos tomorrow,“ Heinz muses, sending Perry a meaningful look. Perry blushes. "But we'll be back in America by Saturday for the reception."

”Reception?“ Linda asked in surprise. ”Who's gotten married?“

Perry and Heinz smile, and -as one- reveal the golden rings, hanging by subtle, durable chains around each their necks that had been hidden by the necklines of their shirts. The family gasps, the meaning of the gesture unmistakable; but Candace so loved putting it into words.

”You're engaged?“ She shrieks.

“Apparently it's why your uncle had been so insistent we come home between missions.” Heinz laughed, bumping into Perry's shoulder teasingly. Perry responds by rolling his eyes, and reaching for his fiance's hand, planting a sweet kiss on titanium knuckles. “He had this whole elaborate treasure hunt proposal planned by walking us through all our most meaningful locations of our first meeting, right here in Danville.”

Candace squealed. Perry started signing, picking up where Heinz had left off. We would have stayed to plan a full wedding too, and I really wanted the whole family to be there, but the Galapagos mission is a time-sensitive emergency. I managed to talk my boss into staying another night over so we could break the news to you, as well as Vanessa and Charlene, in person.

Linda coo-ed. "Oh, Perry this is so wonderful. I am so happy for you two. You're fantastic together."

"Does this mean you're going to have a wedding in the Galapagos?" Phineas asked.

Perry shrugs helplessly, then shakes his head.

"We might not have the time," Heinz elaborates regretfully. "Time-sensitive missions don't really give us much space for wedding planning, so we're planning to sign some documents, maybe find a church so we could at least be legally bound when we land, though neither of us are, hah, particularly religious…,“

"Like an elopement?" Linda blurts, surprised. Her husband chides her with a gentle “Honey-,”

“Well, not really.” Heinz says, scratching the back of his head. He tends to fidget, when he's nervous. “I mean-,”

“ELOPE?” Candace yelled, outraged. She's gotten to her feet, a look of wild panic in her eyes. Perry blinks. “Elope? No! You can't elope! That's so quick! Weddings are supposed to be this big, special thing! It's supposed to be the biggest, most momentous thing in your life, and you can't throw that away for some-some-,” she sputters. “Time-sensitive, life or death emergency on the other side of the globe!”

Perry and Heinz shares a quick, panicked look by her outburst. Candace, dear, Perry tries to sign, but she wasn't listening. She seemed to be on an absolute roll.

”Besides!“ She yells. ”Uncle Perry, if you get married in some church in the Galapagos, I can't be there!“ She stomps her foot for emphasis. ”When I was little, you promised me that I was going to be your bridesmaid. I can't be there in the Galapagos! What about my needs?!“

This time, Heinz throws away all pretence of subtlety, and turns to face Perry with a brief, but pointed, stare. Linda and Lawrence gasps. “Candace!” Her mother exclaims, scandalised.

“But mom-!”

Perry meets his fiance's gaze, embarrassed, but instead of something stern, Heinz has a calculating look in his eye, that thousand-yard stare he does when he's about to do something impulsive. He checks in with Perry just the once, a quick blink of his eyes full of meaning. Perry hesitates, but nods.

Heinz turns to the side, an uncharacteristically gentle touch to the back of Linda's hand that stops her as she is about to scold her daughter for her inappropriate outburst. “She's right, Linda,” he says quickly, with a chuckle. “I mean, for all our sins even Charlene and I had a proper wedding, for all the good that did. It's meant to signify something special, and I would love that for Perry and I.”

Heinz reached over to squeeze his hand, and Perry takes a deep breath as he turns towards his niece. Candace, I really am sorry. I know I made you a promise, but there's only so much we can do with the time we have, and what with how dangerous each of our missions are, Dr. D and I have long agreed to take every chance together we could get, and we want to start our very next mission and the next step of our lives living our truth. As spouses. Perry squeezes Heinz's hand right back, and the man smiles encouragingly as Candace visibly calms.

"We could go to the courthouse before we leave-,” Heinz suggests kindly, before he is once more interrupted.

“No! We need to have a real wedding!” She reiterates, then started to beam. Perry didn't trust that beam. “We could have it in the backyard!”

”What?“ said Heinz.

”What?“ Said Lawrence.

”Great idea, sis!“ Phineas enthused.

Linda pinches the bridge of her nose, likely keeping in mind that she was entertaining guests. Perry wants to give her a hug. She looks like she needs it. "Candace," she says delicately. "We can't plan a real wedding in a day.”

”Oh, duh.“ She says, before rushing up the stairs, presumeably to her own room. There is some loud noises of bumping, stumbling and rummaging as the rest of the family are left downstairs in various baffled emotional states.

“Boy,” Heinz muses, smacking his lips. “You weren't kidding when you told me she was high-strung.”

Perry really hadn't been, but he wasn't given the chance to respond. Candace returns in a rush, suddenly dressed in a beautiful layered purple tulled gown, and a delicate face of make-up. Her slippers match. She's got a tiara. She's also holding her own tome of a scrapbook, bursting at the seams with paper cut-outs and brochures, and filling Perry with the cold, creeping feeling of dread.

“I've been planning this since I was ten.” She chirps excitedly. Lawrence blinks. “I can set up a perfect wedding so that you two can marry in a way that you'll never forget, and-,” She pauses importantly, stepping forward to approach Perry and Heinz to flip open her own scrapbook and show them its contents. Heinz raises a brow in respect. "Still have you two on the plane straight to the Galapagos with time to spare."

Once again, Perry and Heinz turn to look at each other, this time to non-verbally communicate their stunned surprise. But the boys had gotten to their feet in excitement, and everything was happening so fast. Candace hands Perry and Lawrence a magazine cutout for an ad for a local tailor's, with a penmarked address, and begins pulling them to their feet, pushing them towards the front door. “Uncle Perry, you and Dad are going to go into town to get suits and fresh haircuts, while Mom and I are going to the Salon to get manicures and matching bridesmaid outfits. Dr D, I've called Vanessa over, and she's gonna bring Miss Charlene so you guys can discuss and arrange for friends and family contacts for the guest list, so long as it's under the 50-person range with a plus one limit, as well as find another pair of wedding rings.”

Heinz sputters, likely to the very last part. Their engagement rings are made with re-forged parts of old Inators, and likely he'll want their wedding rings to be made with much the same sentiment. But Candace was on a mission, and there was nought to stop her.

“Can we help?” Phineas asked excitedly. Ferb was vibrating on his feet.

Candace groans. “Fine, you can help me plan the grand entrance. But no funny business!”

Perry hears Phineas turn to his brother saying half of his usual catchphrase (“Ferb, I know what we're going to-,”) before the door is slammed shut behind him, leaving him and Lawrence standing confused on the front porch of the house and only partly dressed for town. Lawrence managed to grab his keys and wallet, at least, which was a small mercy.

“Well,” Lawrence says. “I suppose we're getting suits, eh, little brother?”

Perry was only Lawrence's brother through legal means, and he detests being called little. Lawrence knows this, the little shit, but Perry doesn't have the energy to fight him on this one. He sighs. Let's just leave before Vanessa and Charlene-

A beautifully sleek dark green and black Mercedes screeches to a halt in front of their house, and Perry hears Charlene scream for her daughter to be careful as the teenager lets herself out the passenger side door, manic and dishevelled. From the middle of the road, she stares and points at them, screaming: “You're getting married?”

Perry sighs again, and bumps Lawrence's shoulder.

“Yup, that's our cue.” He agrees. “First to the car gets the radio?”

Perry beats him to the station wagon, but he doesn't let Perry change the station anyway. Prick.

[diazsdimples]

Inspiration Saturday!!

I did a bad thing and started a new fic, which will be known as the Musician AU. Basically, Eddie, Hen & Chim are all players in the L.A Philharmonic, Bobby is the conductor, and Buck joins them for one concert as a new hot shot cello soloist. Eddie immediately falls head over heels for the man and him and Buck fuck nasty in many many backstage rooms. This is gonna be a long snippet sorry, I'm scared it's too niche lmao

Tagged by @callmenewbie @wildlife4life @loserdiaz @thewolvesof1998, thank you guys!

Eddie gets to his chair and takes a moment to fully appreciate that it’s his. He’s not played first horn for a while, let alone while being the principal, and he’s pretty hyped. He takes a moment to unpack his horn, slotting the slides carefully into place and pressing the valves up and down to make sure they don’t need any grease. He’s so focused on it that he doesn’t hear Hen sneaking up to his side, clarinet in hand, and almost jumps out of his skin when she speaks.

“So, have you seen our new soloist yet?” she asks, leaning casually against his music stand and Eddie lets out a startled yelp.

“Not yet” he responds once his heart rate has gone back to normal.

Hen picks at something in her teeth. “Apparently, he’s very good, Tracy and Jeff can’t stop talking about him. It’s getting on my nerves”.

“Makes sense that he’s good, you don’t solo with the L.A Phil if you’re shit” Eddie jokes and Hen sends him a flat look.

“You know what I mean” she responds dryly. “Was the youngest in his class at Juilliard and did a stint playing in New Zealand with the NZSO before moving back to New York and playing with the New York Phil”.

Eddie can’t help but be impressed; the New York Philharmonic isn’t easy to get into and from what he’s heard, the NZSO are no slouches either. “He must be alright then”.

“You talking about Wonder-Boy Buckley? More than alright from what I hear”. Chimney is slouching towards them, weaving his way through the chairs and music stands from where he usually sits as principal trumpet. “Cathy says he’s hot. You’d better not let him distract you, Eddie”.

Eddie rolls his eyes playfully at Chimney as he sets his music out on the stand. “I have excellent impulse control, thank you. Haven’t had a random hookup in almost a year, even though Joel’s been repeatedly trying to jump my bones”.

“He does that with everyone, don’t feel special” Chimney replies, and he pats Eddie on the back.

“Why do they call him Wonder-Boy Buckley by the way?” Eddie asks. “Buckley’s a weird name, isn’t it?”

“Buckley is his surname; his first name is Evan” Hen explains while Chimney blows into his trumpet to warm it up. “And he’s Wonder-Boy because he’s so young and hot”

Eddie scoffs at this. Wonder-Boy Buckley sounds like a bit of a prick, honestly.

“Ready for your big moment? First movement of the concerto has a pretty big horn solo, and Bobby is expecting big things from you”. Chimney is looking at him with big eyes and if Eddie didn’t know him better, he’d think the guy was actually concerned.

Eddie won’t lie, he is pretty nervous about it. The cello solo and the horn have a few moments in the piece where it’s just them playing and it’s damn high and fucking difficult. Eddie’s done it in concert before, but that was with a much more minor orchestra and not in front of an audience of 2000+ people. However, Chimney and Hen under no circumstances are allowed to know he’s nervous so he shrugs nonchalantly and says, “yeah, I’ve been practicing it loads and think I’ve got it all sorted. Unless the soloist is truly as hot as you say, I’m pretty sure nothing will throw me”.

It seems the gods are listening to Eddie and laughing at him, because at that very moment, an extremely attractive young man walks into the auditorium with a cello strapped to his back and all Eddie can think is fuck, he’s really fucking hot.

“Oh look, there he is” Chimney says, perking up and Hen’s eyes flit across the auditorium, coming to rest on the man and her jaw drops.

“Holy shit, he’s hot. And I like girls”

“How’s our resident dick-expert doing” Chimney nudges Eddie teasingly and Eddie’s currently making a conscious effort not to drool.

“Yeah he’s – uh – he’s not bad”.

Not bad? Eddie is convinced this is the hottest man he’s ever seen in his life. His muscles bulge as he swings the cello case off his back and sets it on the ground and he flicks his head up to talk to Bobby, his blond curls flouncing delightfully as he does so. Even from here, Eddie can see how his eyes are a piercing blue and he can’t help but notice the way they crinkle as he smiles at Bobby, flashing a set of perfect, white teeth. He’s got some sort of mark around his eyebrow, maybe a piercing? Eddie can’t quite tell from this distance but man, it’s got him feeling things he hasn’t felt in a long time.

Hen and Chimney are sharing a knowing look and Eddie firmly ignores them, instead picking up his horn and beginning to blow some warm air into it. Terry, Amy, Sophie and Grant, his fellow horn players, have all turned up and are setting up, striking up idle conversation with one another as they wait for Bobby to give the order to tune up and start practicing. Hen pats Eddie on the back before returning to her chair and Chimney wiggles his eyebrows as he retreats, flicking his tongue around his mouthpiece suggestively.

(No pressure) tagging @theotherbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @wikiangela @fionaswhvre @smilingbuckley @fortheloveofbuddie @fruitandbubbles @watchyourbuck @incorrect9-1-1 @knightlywonders @housewifebuck @monsterrae1 @evanbegins @cal-daisies-and-briars @thosetwofirefighters @disasterbuckdiaz @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @shitouttabuck @jeeyuns

[suspiciousspidey]

Tony Stark Fic Recs

A list of my favorite fics featuring Tony Stark, from tumblr and ao3.

Writers: If you'd like your fic removed from this list, please send me a message!

Reminder: As always, your media consumption is your responsibility. Please read the writers content warnings/tags! And, if you like their work? Spread some love to them!

Drunken Confessions by @larcenywrites

- Tony makes a drunken confession, and a conversation is had the next morning. The smut in this is so sO good.

BOTH Masterlists by @larcenywrites

- Just trust me. It's all good. You want to read it all.

- Author's Summary: "Soulmates AU - Sally Manners has spent her life avoiding the man whose name is etched on the inside of her thigh. Until suddenly she can't. No tie in with any other fics I've written. Tony/OC"

Cover You In Oil by Star_trekkin_across_theuniverse on ao3 (to read this one you must be logged into an ao3 account)

- This is SO GOOD. It's one of the first tony/oc fics I've ever read and it's one I do go back to.

Exile All The Longer by Darsynia on ao3 (also on Tumblr @darsynia)

- Author's Summary: "Tony lost Pepper in the Snap. What he gains, what EARTH gains, is a 'gift' from Thanos: Soulmates. Some say that the mad Titan used the stones to do this out of respect for Earth's role in his grand design, others say it's to make those left behind complacent, docile-- even grateful.

Tony isn't grateful. He's pissed. His Words are a cruel slap in the face, and the whole concept is bullshit. He spends a year doing right by the world with his company and then settles down to build his lake house. Tony falls for his smart, gorgeous architect as easy as breathing, all the while feeling self-righteous about the whole 'inevitability' of Soulmates. He's beat the system, fallen in love the old-fashioned way. All Tony has to do is get her to actually speak to him, instead of by text or email.

And then she does. She says his Words."

- YALL. THE SLOW BURN IN THIS?? Godly. It is SO GOOD. So detailed. The angst??? Whoooo buddy. This fic had me on the edge of my seat, biting my fist, it was that good. It had me by the throat and honestly it still does. I should probably be embarrassed of how many times I've reread it, but I'm not.

Two Wicks, One Flame by AmberSnapeBlack on ao3

- Author's Summary: "Emma has had it rough her whole life. Her experiences have shaped her into who she is today, a twenty three year old bus girl with no self esteem or backbone. She hates the lime light...well she hates socializing at all. She has never paid her soul mark any mind. Most days, she forgets it even exists. That will change for her in a way she never anticipated.

What comes with bearing the soul mark of the man who is the forefront of the Avengers? Who is almost always in lime light? Who is possibly, already taken? Does she want to know?"

- SUCH A GOOD FIC. You can't help but root for Emma. There are real sweet parts but some real angsty ones too. Also, it was interesting to read a fic with Pep being a not-so-nice-guy.

[bvannn]

Weekly Update March 15, 2024

Something is wrong with me today, but I’m not sure what. I’m keeping an eye on what I suspect it may be, although it’s more likely a sleep related problem. I’ll try to get to bed early tonight. I did a good amount of artstuffs this week, though.

First real significant thing I did this week was record a bunch of melodies for songs and covers. I’m getting somewhere on the main cover I’m working on, and I’ll be tweaking the vocals hopefully soon and possibly posting a WIP once they’re acceptable. I think I will need to chop up the wav file and add effects only to specific notes to add more bite, since vocaloid seems to not really be able to do that. That’s fine I’m a smart person sometimes I can get around it.

Other instrumental songs are going well too. Made good progress on an old Zelda medley/cover I’d been working on, and another instrumental character theme has a good outline. I’ll try to really push for them soon, and once I get the Zelda one done I’ll poke at mechanical license websites to see how bad pricing is and see what songs are even available. The vocal cover should be, since it’s from a mainstream band, but I don’t know if video game music will be available, we’ll see. I might also go in for more recording tonight to see if a bit of movement/exercise would help whatever physical problem I’m having today.

I also have been having awful insomnia, which I’ve been using the time to try chipping away at lyrics for the two ‘vocal’ songs I’m done with otherwise. I’m sitting down and doing one section per session, so with any luck I can get those done soon too.

Drawings are also going well enough. I’m getting weirdly self conscious about my art, since I haven’t really seen a lot of growth in interaction on any of the sites I post to except here. Thank you guys for sticking with me! I’m trying to pull myself together to do more small drawings, so you guys have a bit more to look at for now, although I also have been chipping away at that comic still. I need to write/thumbnail 2 more scenes and edit, then I should be good to make actual pages.

Aside from the initial pitch comic I’m thinking about the outlines for the rest of the stories a bit more now. I get anxious when I get insomnia so I’ve been trying to just write in general, so I can at least be productive with the time, and that’s included lyric stuff, TTRPG stuff, and a lot of OC story stuff. I’m always afraid to lore dump on here unless I’m explicitly asked, for fear of coming off as annoying, but all things considered people seem to like the posts that include lore a bit better so my fear is probably unfounded. Perhaps I will do more on my own, but if you ever really want lore never be afraid to send an ask. I also tag the names of my reoccurring OCs so people can search my blog for them if they want to see more of any specific character.

Also speaking of writing, am still chipping away at an Anime Campaign/Epithet TTRPG game. I put up a poll on the epithet subreddit, which was a cleverly disguised way to gauge interest in an epithet pre-written campaign, since people are more likely to interact with a poll than to upvote a post. There were fourty something people who responded, almost unanimously positively. I might throw another one up there to see how many would actually be interested in DMing, but if feedback comes back positive I might turn what I’ve been working on into a prewritten module for others to run as well. That’d also be a fun writing project, which will be nice because writing is lower effort and lets me rest more, and rest is what I think I need right now.

Good amount of stuff got done this week despite me being in generally poor health. I will try to get better. Focusing on more writing stuff with smaller drawings like headshots will try to be the focus for next week.

[solesommerso]

I would just like to request that you continue at some point to post more Zoe/ Street Werewolf au because I loved the first chapter. Thank you for all the hard work you put into your writing.

an alpha red || zoe powell & jim street

|| continuation from this moodboard post

|| tags : werewolves/supernatural au, alpha!street, background case, swearing, luca bashing but it’s not too bad

-

They work the case together, a simple drug bust that Zoe’s seen a million times from her brief time in narcotics. She had to move departments when the smells of everything started to give her pounding headaches, she switched to undercover work after that, much more her style. She’s always worked alone and doesn’t have many good experiences with a partner, but Street flows with her easily, they don’t run into any problems as they try and nail down guy who ran from their initial raid. Street tells her they’ll be done with the case soon, that he has faith in her skills, it’s refreshing to be lifted up by someone rather than put down.

Zoe wishes the rest of swat could be like that. Nobody else in the building seems to understand any of Powells actions or even what she’s trying to say, she’s critiqued on practically every move she makes, whether she means to be doing something wrong or not.

Luca’s the worst of it. Hicks and Hondo have loosened up a fair amount, but Luca can’t let go of the few stunts she pulled before she became an official swat officer. It’s annoying. Street must pick up on it when Luca walks in the room, his nose twitches and his eyes glance at Zoe for a split second too long.

“Did you guys get anything?” The storage unit they rummaged through was a big waste of time as all it was filled with was old childhood memorabilia from the main suspects past, all baseball caps, and funny enough, werewolf books. Street and Zoe both blissfully ignored those though, Powell only taking a minute to chuckle to herself at how badly written they were, well, from a real life werewolf perspective anyways.

“Nothing. What about you and Deac? Anything from the banks?” Luca shakes his head with a sigh, not even sparing a glance to Zoe as he starts to type away on the tablet he has in hand.

“Someone has to know where he went.” It just had to be the main suspect escaping from the raid, none of his “friends” are giving any information up either.

Zoe wishes she could grill them like she would when undercover, sure it was unethical and will probably send her to hell when she dies, but it was effective and her supervisors always looked the other way when her suspects came in with a black eye or bloodied lip. She never took it too far, never pushed someone that didn’t deserve it, and the bastards sitting in holding right now definitely deserve it. But that was before she was bit, she’s not sure if she has enough control to not take things too far now. Maybe Street can help with it.

“Hey we got a lead!” Hondos voice cuts through the room, Tan behind him with one of those smiles Zoe’s noticed he gets when he figured something out. Victor helped Luca train the recruits quite a few times so Zoe’s more familiar with him, he’s quiet but nice, the least prodding of the trainers she had to listen to all day.

“So, we know Blake’s parents are dead and have been dead, but Tan found an old house they all used to live at. It was bought under his mothers maiden name that’s why we didn’t catch it before.” The map of where the house is pops up on the screen, it’s on the outskirts of the city and far off from any other homes nearby, perfect place for a fugitive to hide.

“What are we waiting for?” Luca questions with more impatient than even Zoe herself, and she’s been waiting for this shift for months now.

“Hicks is getting the warrant then we roll out.”

“Is she coming?” The bitterness takes Zoe off guard, sure she knows Luca doesn’t like her but they had no issues this morning at the first raid.

The room stops with not even a breath being heard after Luca speaks. Street looks ready to snap and Hondos blinking in confusion so many times Powell suspects he’s never seen Luca be so outright hostile towards someone. She wills herself away from saying anything back, she could argue but todays supposed to be good, it needs to be, it’s her first real day on swat and she’s determined to make it good. The wolf in her is more hurt than her human side, she can feel the whimper pushing at her throat, the question of what she did to him, what’s warranted this all.

“Of course she’s coming, she’s been working the case all day.” Street’s tone is level and has none of the anger Zoe expected to hear considering his face being locked tight with irritation. Luca sputters a moment, twisting his lips, almost in disgust. She feels herself instinctively shrink down, she could get up in his face and start to yell, but that’s not what today is about. She just has to keep reminding herself of that.

“She was sloppy in the field this morning.” A beat passes before Streets arms go over his chest, his jaw somehow clenching harder, it has to be uncomfortable by this point.

“No she wasn’t, I was with her the whole time and she was fine.” There’s a look shared between Deacon and Tan, letting Zoe know this must happen more often than she assumed.

“Her footing was off going into the house.” It wasn’t, she knows it wasn’t. She made sure of it.

“Seriously? You want to bench her because of her footing being off? Get over yourself Luca.” Powell gasps small in surprise, both because having someone stand up for her is new, and because the sass Street just used was both shocking and iconic, she wonders if he gets like this a lot.

“It’s a valid reason!”

“Okay that’s enough, Powell isn’t getting benched and if her footing is off you can help her practice.” Hondo finally cuts in, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his face before Hicks comes barreling in telling them to roll out.

Zoe lets Luca leave first, staying in her place behind Street but noting that his shoulders are still tense. Guilt twists in her gut, she’s already causing fucking problems, Street shouldn’t have to fight her battles or deal with any of this. He’s only ever been nice to her.

“Hey you didn’t have to do that.” She stops him just for a second, a hand on his shoulder that softens his pissed off expression.

“Your footing wasn’t off and you deserve to see this case to the end.” He says simply, as though it’s not the nicest thing she’s heard since moving to La.

“Thanks. Luca uh- doesn’t like me that much.” Her hand drops from Streets shoulder to rub at the back of her neck subconsciously, she hates already having someone dislike her. She’s never been one for trusting people or having many friends, but people usually tolerate her, assume she’s just quiet and shy, recognize that she’s smart and a good cop, that her being a loner doesn’t affect how good she is at her job. They don’t see her as fuck-up like Luca paints her.

“Well he should get over himself.” Streets eyes flash red, a bright red, an alpha red.

Zoe instinctively steps back and lowers her shoulders, she’s never met an alpha before, she’s read about them and how much power they hold but having one right in front of her is unreal. She’s never even met another wolf period, she doesn’t know what to do. But then Street blinks and the red is gone, almost looking regretful but she’s unable to read into it as Hondo’s pulling them to Black Betty.

[asterhaze]

If this ain't your thing, feel free to opt out (I was cursed and I want a good grade in social interaction lol)

If you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog. 💛

For sure, though I am notorious for not tagging very many people at all. So I will take the failing grade while answering the prompt. Muahahaha!

1. I have a legitimate, verified, real phobia of...(pausing for dramatic nonsense)...mascots. I did draft up a few pages of a horror comic surrounding the idea of mascots taking over the world and I might get back to it someday, but I ultimately thought it was way too silly of an idea for people to not just roast me for the rest of my life.

2. Speaking of comics, I had the manic idea to create my own religion just for shits and giggles. I ended up with pages and pages of nonsense, and that "religion" ended with me drafting 7 or 8 chapters of a comic about a narcoleptic guy who could see Gravity. This causes Gravity to go to the Universe, who panics, and tries to cover up this fact before Cosmic Time finds out. I do think I will finish that comic someday, not because I think people will take it seriously, but because way more work has gone into it.

3. I can art, though I do it sporadically. I don't share too much of what I have arted so far because I really want to focus on my writing. I am worried my art will link me to my real name, I'll be doxxed, and there will be a new avenue for people to harass me who shouldn't harass me. I don't really want to go into that aspect of my life because it's really just sad, but I do hope to share the comics I have drafted here someday when I feel safer doing so.

That took a weird turn, but it was fun sharing! Thank you everyone for reading and I hope this shines some light on why I am so private about how I am, use a 100% fake pen name exclusively, and don't link to much outside of Tumblr. I appreciate the few friends I have made here and all of the tags and asks, it's really helped me through this hard time in my life. I love you all!

[loveronlineee]

Basketballs and Bat Tattoos (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Sinclair! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: vague threats of violence???

Synopsis: When Y/N finds out that Eddie has been making fun of her brother Lucas, she has to do something about it

Y/N notes: muscle/ toned build

Ty again to my black readers who gave me advise on this! I really like Lucas and I wanna write more Sinclair! Reader where she has a different personality so if you’ve got an idea, shoot it my way! I might write it

I know that black female characters get the “aggressive, more masculine” trope a lot and it was never my intention to make my first Sinclair! Reader a stereotype, it just kinda happened. I want you to know that whenever I write Y/N, I’m always imagining her as somewhat myself (a half white half Asian girl). BUT it’s not always about your intentions with your content, it’s how it is perceived by the audience that consumes it. So again, if you’re black and wanna talk about this, send me a message in my inbox and I’ll DM you so we can talk:)

Ty for reading, have a nice day!

- Willow

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Y/N happily made her way down the hallway towards the locker rooms, her bag with her basketball kit on her back.

After school practice was always her favourite. Being the captain of the girls basketball team, she had a lot of responsibility. Not that she worried too much about that. Making sure everyone was having fun was always the most important thing, and that came easily to Y/N.

She was peppy and bubbly, an easily likeable person. She was helpful and considerate, and passionate about her sport. Someone having a bad time during her practices was a rarity.

The sea of students headed in the opposite direction to the exit, ready to go home. A couple of them greeted Y/N as they left.

“See ya tomorrow Sinclair!”

“See ya!”

“Have a good practice!”

“Thanks I will!”

“Hey Y/N!” A familiar freshman greeted.

“Oh hey Dustin! You heading to Hellfire club?” She asked with a smile. She noted the shirt he wore, one she had seen many, many times.

“Yeah Mike’s gonna meet me there.” Dustin replied excitedly. He hesitated for a moment. “Is… Lucas coming tonight?” A hopeful glint in his eyes.

“No I think he’s going to basketball practice.” Y/N replied, sharing in the younger one’s disappointment. Dustin sighed and nodded.

“Okay well tell him I said hi. Have fun doing basketball stuff!” He yelled as left, pushing through the older kids. Y/N gave him a wave and continued on her way.

Lucas had been seeing his old friends less and less recently. When he told Y/N that he was starting basketball, she was ecstatic. The oldest had been trying to get her younger siblings to play sports with her for years with no luck. But something was wrong.

Why the sudden interest? It didn’t take her long to figure it out. High school’s a tough time for anyone, but it’s also a fresh start. A chance to reinvent yourself. Y/N had always been one of the popular kids. She couldn’t relate to Lucas’ struggles as a nerd, but she could see it was hard at times. If he wanted to try and be someone new, she wasn’t gonna stop him. She’d just keep a close eye.

As she was thinking, Y/N spotted her younger brother ahead, also heading to the locker rooms. She jogged to catch up with him.

“Lucas!” She said loudly as she slapped a hand down on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Jeez Y/N!” Lucas looked to his left at his sister, slightly annoyed as his shock subsided. She grinned.

“Oh you’re jumpy today. Y’know that’s a sign of a guilty conscience? Whatcha’ hidin’ from me?” She poked.

“Nothing.” Lucas huffed, moving away from her. Y/N chuckled.

“You excited for practice? Jason and I are planning on getting the girls and guys teams to train together today.”

“Oh nice.” He nodded, no where near as excited as his sister. Y/N paused before speaking again.

“I just saw Dustin.” She saw Lucas flinch at his friend’s name. “He says hi.”

“Ah. Right.” Y/N waited another moment saying more.

“You’ve been missing a lot of the Hellfire sessions recently.” She commented.

“Yeah well they clash with practice so…” Lucas mumbled. Y/N could tell he was still conflicted with hanging with the jocks and hanging with his friends.

“You can practice basketball at any time. You can only do Eddie’s campaign right now.” Y/N stated.

She liked Eddie. The fact that he took Lucas and his freshman friends under his wing and gave them a place in school where they could be themselves. He was always unapologetically himself and he oozed passion for what he did, just like Y/N.

They were very alike in a way.

“Yeah well I’m one of the popular kids now and they’re not so…” Lucas’ words trailed off as they reached the locker rooms. The siblings stood outside to continue to talk.

“Hmm well sports were always my thing. You never wanted to play with me when we were little. Yet you suddenly do now? Your thing was all that nerdy shit-“

“Don’t call it nerdy shit!” Lucas defended. “And Erica likes that nerdy shit now!”

“Oh so what? This is just copy the older sibling?” Y/N asked with a teasing smile.

“I thought you’d be excited that I was finally playing with you.” Lucas mumbled, looking at the ground. He pushed the boys locker room open, Y/N grabbed his arm and pulled him away.

“Hey hey hey. You okay? I was just kidding, you know that right?” Y/N searched Lucas’ face to see if he understood. He just huffed and pulled himself away from her grip.

“Yeah whatever I’m fine. It’s just…” Lucas stopped taking. Y/N could tell from his tone that this wasn’t about her.

“Just what? What’s wrong?” She asked, concerned.

“Eddie started hassling me after I missed one session and he keeps doing it.” Lucas finally replied. “Makes me not wanna go anymore…”

“Wait really?” Y/N asked, a mix of surprise and sadness in her voice. She didn’t expect that from Eddie. Lucas continued to look at the ground.

“Yeah he kinda makes fun of me.” He mumbled.

“Does he now?” Y/N replied, leaning back slightly. She folder her arms. Her sadness was turning into annoyance and silent rage. Lucas’ eyes widened in panic.

“Don’t say anything to him! Please!” He held his hands out frantically, like she was gonna run down to Hellfire club that second and punch Eddie right in the face. Y/N stayed where she was of course, thinking about what she should do. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah well that’s what you told me to do with those bullies you had in middle school and-”

“You’ll just make it worse.” Lucas said seriously. Y/N stopped talking, not sure on what to say. “Just- I can deal with my own problems, okay?” Lucas went to go and get changed, leaving Y/N unsure of her next move.

She couldn’t do nothing.

She had to help.

———————————————————————

“Hey, Eddie!” Y/N called out as she stormed over to the table in the lunch hall that next day. Mike and Dustin sunk in their seats.

“Shit…” They both mumbled. They had known Y/N basically their whole lives and only seen Y/N mad twice.

The first time was when she was 15. Her first boyfriend cheated on her so she made an alliance with the other girl he was seeing and beat the crap outta him. They were all in Lucas’ room, watching from the window as the guy was curled up on the sidewalk.

“Dude. Your sister’s fucking terrifying.” Dustin whispered. Half in fear, half in amazement.

“She can be when she needs to.” Lucas replied, glaring at the boy as the girls began to walk away. Y/N looked up at the bedroom, seeing the four younger kids. She smiled and gave them a wink.

The second time was when Erica was really little. She was being picked on by some girls in her grade. They were too young to beat up but Y/N didn’t need to get physical to put the fear of God in them. She screamed at the girls in the middle of the elementary school playground, the rest of the elementary schoolers watching, Erica standing beside her. Saying that if they so much as looked at Erica funny she would end them. Lucas can remember that as the point where Erica started being like she was now. Doesn’t take shit from no one. Must’ve been copying her sister.

Eddie however, had never seen Y/N be anything but bubbly and energetic. Her usual self. So he had no idea what he was in for.

“Sinclair. What’s the head of the girl’s basketball team doing talking to me?” Eddie grinned. His smile faulted slightly as Y/N got closer and he saw her face. She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him up out of his chair, beginning to drag him out the room.

“Let’s talk.” Students watched as Eddie scrambled to stay on his own two feet. Mike and Dustin looked over to Lucas at the popular table. He scrunched his face up in embarrassment and hit his head on the table.

Y/N dragged Eddie out into the empty hallway, pushing him against the wall before finally letting go.

“Shit Sinclair.” Eddie said, catching his breath.

“You been giving my brother a hard time?” Y/N stood with her arms crossed, staring at him intently. Eddie’s panic seemed to lower, his smile retuning.

“What? No no I was just-“

“Don’t lie to me Munson.” Y/N cut him off with a low tone. She pointed a stern finger at him. Eddie frozen up then sighed. He put his hands in his jean pockets and shrugged.

“Okay okay maybe I was teasing him a little for hanging with you jocks but it was just a joke!” He chuckled nervously.

“A joke huh?” Y/N repeated. Her tone sounded threatening, sending chills down Eddie’s spine. She took a small step closer to him. Eddie stepped back, his back to the wall. He felt himself going down as his legs began to cave in under him. He sat on the floor, looking up at her.

Y/N put a foot against the wall, inches from Eddie’s face, and loomed over him.

“Say anything about Lucas playing basketball again, and I’ll end you.” Eddie gulped and nodded shakily. Y/N took her foot off the wall. “Good. Have a nice lunch Munson.” She said as she walked away.

After a minute or two of sitting on the floor, Eddie found the strength to stand up. He made his way back into the lunch hall and to his seat where he dropped down on it.

“Glad you’re still alive.” Dustin said.

“So what happened? What she say?” Mike asked. Eddie didn’t look at either of them.

He sat in silence, thinking over what had happened. He really wasn’t ready for any of that. He had no idea Y/N could act that way, she was always so nice and bubbly.

Maybe it made a little sense. He knew that Y/N had always been a passionate person, her love of basketball showed that immensely. She worked hard in classes and would never hesitate to go out of her way to help others. Guess that included threatening him for her younger brother.

Eddie felt the blood rushing to his cheeks. He didn’t want to admit it but…

… a part of him found the exchange weirdly hot. He kept thinking about Y/N’s leg so close to his face, foot on the wall. The girl’s basketball shorts showed off her toned calf and thigh.

“Eddie? You okay man?” Dustin asked.

“Y-Yeah. Yeah I’m okay.” He managed to say. He looked up, seeing Lucas leaving the lunch hall. “I’ll be right back guys. I gotta do something.”

———————————————————————

Y/N got home from school that day. She hadn’t seen Lucas since lunch. He had gone home before her so she hadn’t had a chance to talk to him.

“Hey Mom.” Y/N greeted as she entered the kitchen. Mrs. Sinclair was chopping vegetables, preparing dinner.

“Hey honey how was school? Practice good?” She asked, not taking her eyes off of the knife in her hand.

“Yeah it was good. Where’s Lucas?”

“In his room!” Erica shouted from the living room couch, watching tv with her Dad.

“Everything okay?” Y/N’s Mom asked, a little concerned. Y/N smiled at her and began walking towards the stairs.

“Yeah everything’s fine Mom, just basketball stuff y’know?” She shouted to her sister before going up. “Thanks Eri!”

Y/N dropped her things off in her room and went to Lucas’ door. Usually she would’ve just walked in, but today felt a little different. She knocked. “Lucas?”

“Come in.” Y/N opened the door to see her brother sitting on his bed, reading a comic. She stood in the doorway.

“Hey.” She greeted cautiously. Lucas smiled a little at her.

“Hey.” He didn’t seem mad which was a good sign. Y/N went and sat on Lucas’ bed.

“Look I’m sorry I made a big deal out of the Eddie situation but I couldn’t not do anything-”

“No it’s okay.” Lucas cut her off. “You actually helped a lot so, thanks.”

“I did?”

“I mean you could’ve chosen a more inconspicuous time and place but, yeah. Eddie found me at lunch and apologised.” A smile began to appear on Y/N’s face.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really. He said he was sorry and that if I wanna play basketball then he doesn’t have any problems with that.”

“Wow.” Y/N’s smile widened then dropped. “Shit I feel kinda bad now.”

“What did you say to him?” Lucas frowned.

“That if he messed with you again I’d end him?” The siblings laughed.

“He must’ve been so scared!”

“He was! He fell to the floor! He was looking up at me with those big puppy dog eyes- damn maybe I took it too far.” Y/N looked to the ground, beginning to regret her decisions. Lucas continued to laugh as Y/N said her thoughts out loud. Erica walked into the room.

“The hell are you two talking about?”

“Erica remember when you had those bullies in elementary school?” Lucas asked, still laughing a little. Erica turned to her sister.

“Which loser at school did you beat up now?” She asked, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t beat up anyone! I just threatened to beat him up.” Y/N joked, making Lucas’ laughter start up again. Erica shrugged.

“He probably deserved it. Mom says come downstairs and help with dinner.” The siblings began walking down, still laughing.

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Y/N said to Lucas.

“If he doesn’t run away.”

———————————————————————

The next day before school, Y/N waited in the parking lot for the familiar van. Soon enough it appeared and parked near the back. Y/N walked over as Eddie got out.

“Hey Eddie!” She called out. Her voice made the metalhead jump and drop his keys. He turned around to face her.

“Shit Sinclair I haven’t done anything else I swear-“

“Eddie. Chill. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” Y/N chuckled a little as she picked up his keys and handed them to him. Eddie cautiously took them from her. He could see she was back to her bubbly self but he was still on edge. “Lucas told me you apologised to him. That was sweet of you.”

Y/N began walking towards the school, Eddie followed, keeping a little distance between them.

“Uh well yeah I was thinking about what you said and I realised I was being a bit of an asshole.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty look on his face.

“Well I’m sorry too. I was also being an asshole.”

“No no i-it’s fine I get it. You were protecting your brother and all but yeah.” Eddie breathed out. “Fucking hell Sinclair you can be scary when you wanna be.” The metalhead said, starting to smile. Y/N laughed.

“The reason I was so mad was because I like you Eddie, so I was mad that you were acting like that.”

“Y-You like me?” Eddie stopped walking at the entrance of the school. Y/N turned to him.

“Yeah of course I do. I know some of my friends might not share that opinion but yeah, I like you.” Eddie’s couldn’t help the corners of his mouth turning up, as it stayed open from the shock. Y/N began walking into school, Eddie followed, his surprise subsiding.

“Y’know I really wasn’t expecting it from you, cause you’re usually like this cute, bubbly type girl.” He explained as they walked down the hallway.

“You think I’m cute Munson?” Y/N tilted her head to the side. Eddie’s words got caught in his throat.

“I- well I mean yeah- yeah I guess-” Y/N giggled as Eddie continued to verbally stumble. A bunch of the jocks were hanging out by the lockers. Jason spotted her.

“Hey Y/N! We’re all going to mine after practice today, you in?”

“Yeah sounds fun!” Jason looked over at Eddie. His smile faded.

“What are you doing with this freak?”

“Talking.” Y/N stated plainly. A couple other jocks walked over too.

“Is he giving you trouble?” One of the other jocks asked.

“You think I couldn’t handle myself if he was?” Y/N retorted. She smiled at them. “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed one of them with her shoulder as she passed, making it look like an accident. The jock nearly fell over with the force that she shoved him with. Eddie stuck with her.

“You’re fucking strong Sinclair.” Eddie commented, chuckling.

“Yeah I know. I could crush your head between my thighs like a watermelon if I wanted.” Y/N said with a grin. Eddie gulped at that image in his head, his blush returning. “I’ll see you around Eddie.” She gave him a wink and walked away, leaving him to watch her go. He breathed in then out, composing himself, slapping a hand in his chest.

“Damn Y/N. How’d you do that to me?”

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[hyunsuks-beanie]

Roommate

Pairing: Roommate! Perv! Jisung x afab! reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Smut; fingering; use of the words "whore," "slut" and "baby"

Word Count: .7k words

Mellow speaks: Okay so, I've been wanting to write this perv! Jisung one-shot for ages for the anon who had requested, but I didn't want to go full smut because that wouldn't fit the perv pattern too well. So this is what I came up with instead, hope you guys like it. But I am kinda nervous.

Tagging: @yedammi @ivyvesisi @sweethyuka

He's had it. You've been pushing all his buttons for the past month, and he's finally snapped at long last. Wearing that pathetic excuse of a dress to class? You've got to be kidding him, except he knows that you aren't. And that's why here you find yourself, pressed against the mattress as his lips hover over your skin, hotter than ever.It feels like everything you've ever wanted, your insides bubbling with excitement at your plan having worked. You see, you're not an idiot.

Of course you had an ulterior motive for wearing that tiny dress today, and that motive was to get Jisung to finally make a move. You know he sees you, feel the way his eyes bore into your form every time you hang out with a different guy, pretending to "whore around" (his words from five minutes ago) just so you can get him riled up.

Having had been sharing a dorm with him for the past six months, it wasn't all that hard for you to catch feelings of all kinds for him, from the ones that make your stomach erupt in butterflies when he holds your hand as you walk off campus, to the ones that make the insides of your panties feel wet whenever he walks out of his room in the morning, wearing nothing but his boxers.

But despite your many attempts to get him to notice you, so far, all you've tasted is the dirt, with him refusing to give in to you advances even though you can see the desire behind his eyes. And so, the only resort you could opt for has been to make him jealous. To get on his nerves until he finally decides to take it out on you. You've come close many times, like when you offhandedly told him you were going on a blind date, causing him to grab your wrist harshly only to let it go the second you asked what he wanted. Or all the times when you've gone off partying with friends, wearing the skimpiest outfit you could find, his eyes boring into your butt as you walked away, with no word on when, or even if, you'll be back.

Your progress getting through to him had been slow, but sure, his defenses slowly breaking away as he found his mind wandering over to your body every few minutes. He couldn't help it, his thoughts becoming full of images of you under him, his mouth on yours and his hands roaming the expanse of your skin. Of course he was just as much affected by you as you were by him, and even though he tried to stop himself, with time, he came to understand that he would have to make a move. 

And that brings you to now, under him just as he wants, the hem of your dress all the way up at your waist as his crotch grinds against your pussy. "Didn't even want to wear anything inside it, hmm? Slut," he slurs, his fingers slowly inching down towards your heat as he smirks upon hearing you moan his name. "Trying to make me jealous, aren't you?," he says next, his index finger now running up and down your clothed core, sending shivers down your spine as you bite your tongue at being caught. 

"Thought I don't see the way you check me out every time I come out of the shower?," you hear him say, the pressure that he applies against your panties making you get even more soaked. "Trust me baby, I do see it. Because I'm the same." This isn't the first time he's called you "Baby," but still, it doesn't fail to make you go weak in the knees, distracting your mind away from what he's doing.

That is, until you actually feel him do it, his lips back on yours as he very subtly pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, rubbing your folds. You can't help but moan at the sensation, wanting nothing more than for him to go all in. He's finally giving you what you need, and as his fingers push through your mound, you know you're all pumped up for what's to come. 

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[dreamerstreamer]

Lucky in Love

Pairing: poly!Dream Team x gn!reader

Summary: [Soulmate!AU] It’s one thing to meet your soulmate in a lottery, and another to have more than just one. But when you end up winning Dream’s Minecraft Manhunt raffle, you find your world turning upside down in ways you least expect.

Word Count: 9.9k

A/N: behold, my first commissioned story! this story has been altered from it’s original form so everyone can read it, but the majority of the plot and writing remain the same. i had a lot of fun writing it, and i hope you all like it! <3

You stumbled into your bedroom with a yelp, your thumb flying across your phone screen to the home button and pressing gently. With a gleam, the time flashed back at you, and your eyes shot wide open.

You were going to be late.

Leaning forward on one leg, you pushed the door behind you shut with your foot, bouncing forward as soon as you heard it click shut. Your eyes swept across the room, your gaze catching on a swath of black cloth sitting at the foot of your bed. With a quirk of your lips, you tugged the shirt off the mattress before turning on your heel. Darting to the other side of the room, you easily settled back into your desk chair and let the shirt drop onto your thighs.

Grabbing your mouse, you moved your cursor to the YouTube bookmark at the top of your screen, your computer screen instantaneously flooding with light. You scrolled over to the left side of your screen, your mouse hovering over a familiar green icon before clicking, a new box popping into view.

Stream starting in 60... 59... 58... 57...

You felt your lungs tighten within your rib cage, your toes curling ever so slightly into the floor. It had been a nerve-wracking month of waiting and pacing, crossing each day off the calendar with an anxious grin. You almost couldn’t believe that the day had finally arrived. Letting out one last breath, you leaned forward, the t-shirt feeling heavy in your lap.

3... 2... 1...

All of a sudden, the screen went dark. Your reflection stared back at you from the dim screen, your excited eyes peering back at yourself with a curious glint. Reaching up, you brush an unkempt lock of hair away from your forehead, just in time for two familiar faces and a lime green icon to appear.

The Dream Team.

“Hey, guys!” Dream said, his voice sounding like a breath of fresh air. “How are you all doing?”

A flurry of hearts flew across the live chat screen, the lines moving by so quickly that you couldn’t tell when one message ended and another started. Practically bouncing in your seat, you couldn’t help the smile that skittered across your cheeks.

“Good,” you whispered aloud to yourself in the quiet of your room. You knew that they couldn’t hear you when you talked like that, that they wouldn’t know you had even replied at all, but it made their streams feel a little more lively nonetheless.

After a brief pause, Dream’s voice filtered through the air once more, just as bright and eager as it was earlier. “Good? I hope the answer is good.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart flipping in your chest as your fingers curled into the shirt in your lap. That sort of thing happened sometimes: a streamer would say something and your verbal response almost made it feel like they were actually holding a conversation, like they were actually with you right now. These sorts of things were always a coincidence, but when everything in your world was connected by fate, sometimes you let yourself be a little hopeful, let yourself imagine that maybe it wasn’t dumb luck—that maybe it actually meant something.

Hell, maybe it meant you could be soulmates.

Soulmates were a tricky thing to think about, really, even if everyone knew they existed and that one day, they would meet theirs. No one could pinpoint when exactly soulmates came to be, but no one rejected their presence either way. It wasn’t like they wanted to, anyways. To have a person who was perfect for you linked to you by the universe—it was no wonder people were more than pleased to discover they weren’t just some old lover’s tale.

But even then, some were skeptics. How would you really know when you had found your soulmate? What if you missed them by accident? For you at least, you already knew what it would feel like. You couldn’t count just how many times you had asked your mother that very question, but you could practically rattle off her words by heart.

“You’ll know exactly when it happens, I promise, sweetie,” she would murmur, stroking your head with a gentle hum and soft eyes. “When you first touch, it feels like... like you’ve been struck by lightning, and you’ll be tingly all over. Something inside you just sort of clicks when you look at them, and you’ll just—you’ll feel it right here.” She tapped her finger over your heart, a wistful expression settling across her face. “It’s... it’s magical, and you’ll never forget that feeling—not for the rest of your life.”

The smile that would tug on your mother’s lips made you all the more hopeful, a heavy yearning settling deep into the crevices of your heart as the years went by. Even now, as you sat watching Sapnap and George bicker with each other while Dream chimed in with a snarky remark, you felt that same fleeting hope rising up in your chest, warm and soft.

Maybe—just maybe—they might be your soulmates.

Not that they actually were, of course. You knew better than to get your hopes too high.

But as you watched Sapnap’s lean a little closer to his camera and listened to George’s breathy laugh, you felt your heart swell the tiniest bit.

Connected by fate or not, these boys were special to you, even if you had never met.

Sapnap blinked as his eyes darted across his monitor, raising his eyebrows with surprise as he let out a short whistle. “Oh, wow, we’re pulling... holy crap—over seven hundred thousand viewers, right now.” You could vaguely hear the scrolling of his mouse, his lips twitching. “Everyone sounds so excited in chat, too.”

George’s eyebrow quirked. “I mean, of course they are. Manhunts are loads of fun—who wouldn’t want to be a part of them?”

Sapnap’s face split into a teasing grin, and he leaned back in his chair. “Ooh, you sure sound cocky, George.”

George blinked once, then scowled. “Wha—shut up, it’s true! Why else would there be so many people here?”

A devilish gleam flickered across Sapnap’s gaze. “To see your pretty face, maybe.”

George’s frown deepened, his eyebrows knitting together into a glower. “Sapnap, you—”

“Look, look,” he cried, wagging his finger at his monitor, “even chat agrees!” His lips curled up into a smirk, mischievous and amused all at once. “You’re not gonna say chat is wrong, are you, Gogy?”

You could have sworn a hint of rose flushed across George’s cheeks as he averted his gaze from his camera, his voice coming out softer than before. “W-Well, I—”

“Boys, boys,” Dream suddenly cut in, George’s words trailing off in an instant. Despite the firmness of his words, there was an amused lilt to his tone, the smile evident in his voice. “You’re both pretty, alright, but can we please move on? I bet everyone’s dying to know who won.”

George opened his mouth, then let out a sigh, shaking his head with a hint of a smile gracing his lips. “You know what, Dream’s right. Let’s move on.”

Sapnap snickered on his side of the screen, still grinning widely. “You just can’t handle the truth.”

George groaned, deadpanning into the camera. “We are not starting this, again.”

Sapnap smiled, but didn’t get to speak before Dream cut him off. “You’re right,” he said, sounding a tad more hurried than before, “we’re not, because I’ve got the results, right here.”

You suddenly sat up, your heart stuttering. That same spark of hope fluttered up between your lungs, and you found yourself shuffling your chair forward, squinting in anticipation. Curiosity quivered around the edges of your mind, a certain eagerness pawing at your side as you watched a white pop-up fill the stream.

Everybody had an equal chance of winning—you knew that. That everyone may include you, but it also included every other person who bought one of those shirts. It didn’t take a genius to know that you weren't going to win. After all, not everything was guaranteed like having a soulmate was.

“And,” Dream began, dramatic and slow, “our winner is...”

You squeezed your hands, clasping your palms together with a feeling you couldn’t quite name.

“...shirt number 267815!”

You blinked, your brows furrowing together. That number sounded... oddly familiar. Your eyes flickered down to the shirt in your lap, the white tag peeking back up at you.

It couldn’t be.

All of a sudden, Dream’s voice rang through the air once more, sounding even clearer than ever before.

“Oh, and the name connected to the shirt is... [Y/N]!”

Your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your eyes shooting wide open as your jaw dropped.

I... won?

You gaped at your screen, only half-registering the sight of Sapnap and George clapping. The chat had become a blur of words you couldn’t bring yourself to read, your vision growing hazy and unfocused with shock. I must look crazy right now, you thought to yourself distantly, rubbing at your face. This can’t be real.

George’s gaze locked directly onto the camera, and for a second, it almost felt like he was speaking directly to you. “Congratulations, [Y/N]!” He wrinkled his nose with an apologetic smile. “I hope I’m saying that, right. If I’m wrong, please tell me.”

Sapnap chuckled, shooting him a devious grin. “Knowing George, he’s probably wrong.”

Your lips twitched at the frown that flitted across George’s face before Dream took over again. “Ignore them—they’re being dumb.” Before either of them could protest, he quickly added, “Anyways, welcome to Minecraft Manhunt! We’re looking forward to meeting you. We’ll send you an email soon, and you can give us some more info there.”

You nodded at your monitor, your lips still parted in surprise. “We’ll be ending the stream now,” Dream continued, “but thanks so much for everyone else who participated. Your love and support mean the world to us!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, and it sent a rush of warmth shooting down your spine. “[Y/N],” he murmured, suddenly sounding soft, “we’ll see you soon.”

As George and Sapnap waved one last time at their cameras with excited grins, you swallowed. Your heart rattled in your chest as the screen faded back to black, and you found yourself sitting face-to-face with your reflection once more.

You were right—you looked just as dumbfounded as you felt.

Slowly, you closed your mouth, lowering your gaze to the shirt in your lap. The axe that was laid out across your thighs somehow seemed brighter than it did before, almost as if someone had painted over it with a newer, shinier layer of white.

Lifting the shirt to your chest, you felt a wide grin tug at your lips—wider than any grin you had ever smiled before.

Maybe you were luckier than you thought.

Your finger hovered over the left button of your mouse, your breaths coming out shaky and short as they pumped through your lungs. The Discord call already had three icons waiting for you, and all you had to do was click to join them.

Breathe, [Y/N]. You’re only about to talk to three of your favourite content creators on the planet. It’ll be easy.

You paused, listening to the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears.

Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not fooling anyone.

A groan rose in the back of your throat, and you hung your head in your hands for a long moment. “C’mon,” you whispered to yourself. “You can’t keep them waiting forever.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek, then lifted your head, nodding once, then twice. Yes, okay—calm. I can be calm. Your finger twitched. Let’s do this.

Your hand reached back for your mouse, the cool plastic melding against your skin as your cursor hovered back over the call. Squeezing your eyes shut for just a second, you let your finger press down, a familiar ping echoing through your headphones. There was a beat of silence. Then, someone spoke.

“Hi! Hello!”

You jumped at that sound of Dream’s voice, your heart skipping a beat as you quickly reoriented yourself again. “H-Hi, there,” you said as calmly as you could muster.

“It’s nice to meet you, [Y/N]! I’m Dream.” There was a slight pause, then he added hesitantly, “Did I say that right, by the way? Your name, I mean.”

Your lips curled up into a smile, and you felt the tension seep out of your shoulders. “Yes, you got it right.”

You could almost imagine him grinning to himself triumphantly. “Perfect.”

A new voice suddenly jumped in, just as eager as Dream’s. “Don’t steal the spotlight already, Dream,” Sapnap whined, his icon flashing green. “There’s three of us, not just you.” Ignoring Dream’s quiet apology, he quickly moved on. “I’m Sapnap—it’s great to have you here.”

“And I’m George,” another voice added, his prominent accent sounding like honey in your ears.

Every ounce of anxiety you had been feeling earlier felt so far away now, their voices carrying your worries off over the horizon. “It’s nice to meet you all, too. My name’s [Y/N], but you already know who I am, don’t you?”

“Well,” George said, drawing out the vowel, “we may know a few things about you, but we don’t really know who you are—that’s something we want to hear from you.”

Sapnap made a noise of confirmation, his mouth moving at lightning speed as he suddenly began to fire off question after question. “Yeah, like, what’s your favourite flower? Or season? Which one of us do you think is the most handsome? Ooh, what about—”

“Woah, woah,” Dream cut in, wheezing ever so slightly, “one thing at a time, to start. Let them breathe, at least!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the hints of laughter tinting his voice. “It’s okay!” you said, your lips splitting into a crooked grin. “Although I don’t know if I can answer those questions.”

George let out a confused noise. “No? Why not?”

You hummed, swinging your legs around your chair. “Like for my favourite flower, I think they’re all really pretty and look nice, in their own little ways. Same thing for seasons.” You chuckled. “I’m too indecisive to pick just one.”

“But who do you think is the most handsome out of the three of us?” Sapnap prodded, excitement seeping into his tone. “It’s definitely me, right? Come on.”

“Hey,” George suddenly quipped, rushing through his words, “no flirting yet! We only just met!”

There was a brief second of silence. “I mean, isn’t that technically the best time to start flirting?”

“Sapnap.”

“Fine,” Sapnap sighed. You could practically hear him roll his eyes. “Friends first, flirting later.” You were about to breathe a sigh of relief when he added, “Carry on, though. I still want to hear your answer.”

Chewing on your lip, you stiffened, drumming your fingers against the side of your keyboard. “I’m telling you,” you sighed after a long moment, “I really don’t think I can pick. As a matter of fact,” you pointed out, raising a finger. “I don’t even know what one of you looks like.”

Now, it was Dream’s turn to speak up. “Then, talk about attractiveness, in general. It doesn’t just have to be about looks.”

You froze, your posture going rigid. Attractiveness in general…?

How could you possibly encapsulate their attractiveness just like that? Dream was so incredibly clever, and you loved to hear him talk about his passions. George was smarter than he let on, and you could see it in the way he coded their videos, working relentlessly to make them work. Sapnap was beyond affectionate, and just hearing him share his affection with those around him made your stomach melt. They were just handing you a recipe for disaster with a question like this, you knew it.

“This question is impossible,” you blurted, a gentle panic seeping into your tone. Narrowing your eyes, you leaned closer to your mic, adding with a teasing lilt, “Are you trying to torture me?”

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t,” Dream hummed, chuckling at the small whine that escaped your lips. “Either way, it’s cute to hear you struggle.”

Your breath suddenly hitched in your throat, but Sapnap was quick to leap forward. “Hey, what did we say about no flirting?”

Another beat of silence. “Killjoy.”

“Okay, moving on from that,” George said, quickly diverting topics, “how are you feeling, [Y/N]? Are you looking forward to the manhunt?”

You looked back at the call, your eyes locking onto the three Discord icons sitting next to your own. “Yes,” you admitted, “but I’m also very, very nervous.”

“Nervous?” Dream repeated slowly.

“Nervous,” you said again, “but a good kind of nervous.” You opened your mouth, then closed it. “Actually, I think excited is a better word to use. You guys always just seem like you have so much fun when you’re around each other, and I’m just...” You waved your hands in front of yourself, feeling your heart beat faster and faster while your face grew hot once more. “I’m just really excited to film with you all and play Minecraft together.”

Silence washed over the call, and your cheeks felt like they were about to burn right off your face. “Sorry,” you mumbled embarrassedly. “That—that probably sounds really dumb.”

“It doesn’t,” Sapnap said suddenly, making your gaze grow wide, “not at all.”

“Yeah,” George added with a joyful hum. “I dunno about those two, but I’m also excited to play with you, [Y/N].”

Dream guffawed, a scoff escaping his lips. “What do you mean you don’t know about us? Of course we’re excited! [Y/N] is great!”

You nearly fell out of your chair. “H-Huh?”

Dream’s voice was suddenly soft again, both parts soothing and cheerful all at once. “We might have only known each other for a little while, but I’m telling you, we’re beyond happy to have you here, and we want you to have a good time, too.”

“Oh, a thousand percent,” George said straight-facedly into his mic. “I’d trade you for both of these nerds in a heartbeat.”

Just like that, Sapnap was yelling as you heard Dream smack his desk. “George, what?! How could you say that?”

Giggling, you sank into your desk chair with a relieved smile, pressing a hand over your eager heart. “Thank you,” you murmured, only hoping they could hear the sincerity in your words. “I hope I don’t let you guys down.”

Their raucous bickering suddenly died down at the softness in your tone, and three voices spoke at the same time—each one sounding more honest than the last.

“You could never.”

You leaned forward in your desk chair, your eyes glued to your screen as you watched Dream’s avatar stand as still as a rock, frozen and entirely unmoving. Your finger hovered over your W key, waiting for the perfect moment to strike as your tongue darted out to flick over your bottom lip.

Manhunts may be stressful, but you were more than ready to tackle this one headfirst.

It happened so quickly that you nearly missed it. In one moment, Dream was standing in front of you, stock still as you stared him down. In the next, he was darting off in the opposite direction, already a whopping ten blocks away.

Sapnap’s voice shot through your headset like a bullet as he shouted, “After him!”

He didn’t need to say it again before the group was already dashing across the grassy field, boosting each other forward every other block. You clicked frantically at George’s backside, your lips twitching in glee as he shot the slightest bit closer to Dream. With each passing second, they ran further and further, Dream lying just a few steps out of reach. All of a sudden, he leapt off the side of a cliff, vanishing from sight in an instant. Coming to a screeching halt atop the hill, you watched as Bad peered over the forest, Sapnap and George hot on his heels.

“Where’d he go?” George muttered, confusion clouding his voice.

You shifted your mouse left and right as your gaze darted across your screen, scanning every pixel for even the tiniest hint of neon green. Just then, a gasp flew from your lips, and you caught Sapnap jolting in your direction at the sound.

“Look!” you cried, clicking to point over at the greenery. “He’s on the right—on top of the trees!”

Without missing a beat, everyone was leaping off the hill and barreling across the trees, ignoring their fall damage as they jumped over small gaps. “What is he,” George grumbled under his breath, “a monkey?”

You let out a tiny giggle at the genuine annoyance in his tone, but didn’t stop chasing after Dream’s running figure. Suddenly, he just barely missed his jump, bouncing twice on the same leaf block. He had only stalled for a brief second, but that was more than enough time for you to spam click your mouse. In a flash, Dream was tumbling off the tree, with you trailing right after him.

“I hit him off!” you shouted in glee, elation making every one of your syllables soar in your throat. “He’s on the ground.”

“Nice one, [Y/N]!” Sapnap chuckled with delight. “Now, don’t let him get away!”

The praise made the triumphant feeling that had unfurled beneath your ribs spread even farther under your skin, warming you from head to toe. Pushing forward, you nodded and slammed your thumb down on your space bar.

You had no plans of letting him escape.

You pulled your water bottle from your lips with a gasp, quickly screwing the cap back on before setting it down on your desk. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you turned back to your monitor, your gaze focused on the anvil a few blocks away. To your left sat the portal, and to your right was a wall of obsidian.

You were four hours into filming now, but you still weren't tired. How could you be, when you were so close to the end?

Clicking on the anvil, you dragged the diamond axe in your inventory into the first slot before reaching for the enchanted book sitting just beside it. Forty-two levels—you would need forty-two levels to enchant your axe with Sharpness IV.

You glanced down at the space above your hotbar and grinned.

Luckily for you, you had forty-three.

Clicking once more, clanging echoed through your ears, and you placed your newly enchanted axe in your hotbar with a proud smile. It was an absolute pain having to kill as many mobs and loot as many desert temples as you did, but for this, it was absolutely worth it. Now, it was time for the rest of the plan.

“I have no idea how you came up with this,” George said earnestly, his character facing yours, “but I love it.”

You grinned, opening up your inventory and removing your amour. “I just got really, really lucky.”

Grabbing an invisibility potion, you suddenly paused, a hint of uneasiness sinking in your gut. If Dream noticed any particles, you would be dead in an instant, and your plan would be blown to smithereens. You would have to move quickly to make it work—almost ridiculously quickly.

Swallowing, you opened your mouth. “Do you guys think we can really pull this thing off?”

Sapnap let out an easygoing chuckle, your shoulders relaxing in an instant. “Oh, I know we can.”

Letting Sapnap’s confidence run through you, you held down your mouse’s right key, downing the invisibility potion in one go before turning to rush out of the portal room. Through your headphones, you heard Dream let out an inquisitive hum, curiosity flickering through his tone. “Just what are you guys up to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Sapnap fired back without missing a beat, his voice swimming with mischief.

While George let out a wheeze and you giggled at Sapnap’s sharp quip, Dream sighed, muttering, “So much for asking.”

Huffing out one last quiet laugh, the smile fell from your face, your eyes narrowing as your expression grew serious. You moved ever so carefully through the stronghold, weaving in and out of the labyrinthine halls like a snake on the hunt. Your gaze darted back and forth between the compass in your hotbar and your screen. With each sharp swing of the compass hand, you held your breath, turning until it was pointed forward again. You had been searching for a few minutes when suddenly, you spotted it.

A glimpse of green.

Dressed head to toe in enchanted iron armour, Dream’s avatar stood in front of a wall of furnaces, smelting away as he turned from one to the next. On the same wall was a crafting table and a chest. He was planning something, you just knew it, but you didn’t have the time to question what. After all, he was facing the wall opposite from you, completely unaware of your presence.

This was the perfect chance, and you weren’t going to waste it worrying.

Creeping forward, you stopped only when you stood just a single block away from him, switching from your empty hand to the enchanted diamond axe in your hotbar. With Sharpness IV, it would only take three critical hits for you to take him down.

For a second, all was still.

Then, you were pressing down on your space bar and clicking your mouse a half second later, watching with bated breath as Dream’s avatar twitched from your attack. One.

He had barely managed to turn around before you had already landed another hit on him. Two.

By the time he had pulled out his own axe and began scanning the seemingly empty air in front of him, you were slamming your finger down one last time. Three.

With a shout, Dream dropped dead before you, his inventory exploding into a mess on the floor at your feet. You blinked once. Twice.

Then, the call burst into a mess of screams and shouts.

Dream’s yell rang through your ears as George and Sapnap hooted in delight, Bad and Antfrost following with their own victory cheers. “What the heck?!” he cried, shock filling his every word. “[Y/N], was that you? Oh my god, where did you even come from?”

Practically gasping for breath, you nearly collapsed on top of your keyboard, the adrenaline slowly wearing off as you smiled triumphantly to yourself. “[Y/N], you did it!” Sapnap shouted, just as loud as before. “You—you just—holy crap!”

“I was so stressed,” you breathed, sagging against the back of your chair with a breathless laugh. “You have no idea.”

“You were awesome, so awesome,” George managed between giggles, his own voice sounding giddy and positively overjoyed. “I knew you could do it.”

Your cheeks half-felt like they were about to start hurting from how hard you were smiling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Dream’s tired laugh filled your ears.

“Congratulations, [Y/N],” he murmured fondly. “You won.”

Just a week and a half later, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you scrolled through the comments section of the new video.

[y/n] was so funny omg

They made this manhunt feel so much more special

Their chemistry as a group was so good wtf!!!??!

please bring [y/n] back I am in LOVE

[Y/N] SUPREMACY

With each new comment you scrolled past, you felt your heart swell more and more in your chest with a mixture of joy and pride. You didn’t expect people to respond so positively to the video—to you.

You had barely made even a dent in the hordes of comments about you when a Discord notification popped up on your laptop screen. In a flash, you were pulling up Discord, quickly clicking on the appropriately named group chat, [Y/N] KILLED DREAM!!

Sapnap: hey

Sapnap: hey

Sapnap: hey did you read the comments

[Y/N]: i did! people were so positive!!

[Y/N]: i wasn’t expecting it

George: You weren’t?

You furrowed your brows, reading George’s question twice before typing once again.

[Y/N]: of course not??? i’m just some person

[Y/N]: you guys are the dream team

George: Don’t put yourself down like that

Sapnap: yeah everyone liked the video because they liked you

Dream: well then

Dream: how do you feel about coming back to film again?

You stared at your screen in awe, something hopeful and weightless rising in the expanse of your chest. Filming another video? With them?

You didn’t even have to think before your fingers were typing out a response.

[Y/N]: i would love to

Peals of laughter tumbled from your lips as you rolled over on your bed, your phone perched beside your head on your pillow. A split second later, a loud whine echoed from your phone speaker, and you found yourself laughing even harder, your lungs gasping harder and harder for breath with each giggle that was pulled from your throat.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed that you would be here.

It had been nearly a year since the fateful day that brought you and the Dream Team together and a little over ten months since you had first filmed together. Now, three videos and countless streams later, you were closer than ever before, cracking jokes and pushing each other’s buttons like you had known each other their whole lives—maybe even longer than that. It took some prodding, but you even called Dream by his real name, now. As much as you liked the name Dream, Clay sounded much nicer, in your opinion. Texting daily was practically a sacred ritual now, and you couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t get spammed by their texts at least four times a week. Even now, as you lay on your bed with your phone connected to Discord at your side, you were chatting with them, grinning as wide as ever. It was a comfortably pleasant lull you had fallen into, the four of you—one that you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life sinking into.

It was comfortable indeed, but even as complete as you felt now, you felt like there was something missing—like there was a hollow cavern in your chest just waiting to be filled.

Yet another shout suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, the noise sounding even more astounded than it had before. “How was I supposed to know that that was Russia?”

The sheer amount of shock in George’s voice immediately made you burst into another fit of giggles, throwing your head back. “There was Russian on the sign!” you managed between breaths. “It was so obvious!”

He sputtered at the sound of your laughter, sounding absolutely appalled by your reaction. “You can’t just expect me to be able to read Russian!”

You grinned, your voice dropping the tiniest fraction. “You act as if you don’t know how to say a few things in Russian.”

There was a moment of silence. Then, Sapnap whistled. “Touché, [Y/N]. You’ve got him there.”

While George groaned, surely smacking his palm into his forehead, Clay spoke up with a teasing hum. “You should play some GeoGuessr with us more often. You’re way better at this than George.”

“This is bullying,” came a distant complaint from George, his voice coming out muffled through his mic.

“It’s the truth,” you corrected with a cheeky grin. “You cannot deny that.”

There came a snort, followed by Sapnap’s gentle laugh. “Look at you, [Y/N], being so mean all of a sudden.”

You smiled lopsidedly, trying to push back the shiver that ran down your spine at the way his low voice made your insides melt. “You know you guys love it.”

“We do.” Clay’s voice almost sounded far away, muffled and hazy. “We really, really do.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as a soft silence washed over the four of you, your chuckles dying down and fading into the quietness of your bedroom. Sighing deeply, you picked at your nail, silently begging your heart to calm down again. It was right then when George softly piped up.

“Hey, [Y/N],” he said quietly. When you let out a small noise, he continued. “We… you would call us close to you, right?”

You laughed at the hesitancy in his tone. For a second, he almost sounded shy, and it sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach. “Do you even have to ask? We’ve been friends for months—of course we are!”

You could make out the faint sound of shuffling from Clay’s end, his icon flashing green. “Are—” He coughed. “Does that mean we’re close enough to ask you a… somewhat private question?”

You raised an eyebrow at his tone, your curiosity piquing. “Go for it,” you said gently, letting your eyelids flutter comfortably shut.

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

In an instant, your eyes shot wide open again, and you lay frozen in your bed. In all the time you had known each other, not once had you brought up the topic of soulmates. It was almost as though you had simply skirted around it, too shy to press on about. But right now, with the topic lying right in front of your face, you couldn’t just avoid the topic.

Your fingers twitched as your mouth fell open. “N-No,” you stammered, the butterflies in your stomach going oddly still. “I, um, I haven’t. Have any of you?”

There was a pause. “No, none of us.”

You thought for a moment, your heart mulling over those four little words. Then, you exhaled and let your shoulders relax against the mattress, your nails curling into your palm. “I’m sure you guys have nothing to worry about,” you murmured almost hazily. “There are probably thousands and thousands of people who would love to be any one of your soulmates.” You chuckled, but it tasted bittersweet on your tongue. “Heck, there’s probably at least half a million fans who would be dying to take my place, right now.”

On the other end of the line, you were met with silence, but it was fleeting. “What about you?” Clay suddenly asked.

You blinked, your palm going slack. “Me?”

“You,” Clay affirmed, sounding more serious than before. “If you were one of our soulmates, how would you feel?”

The words left your lips before you could stop them. “Happy,” you blurted, suddenly feeling breathless. “So, so happy. I—”

You suddenly slapped your hand over your mouth, cutting yourself off with wide eyes. Realization struck you like a lightning bolt, and you could feel your blood run cold in your neck. I did not just say that.

“What—” George stopped. Then, a second later, he continued. “Which one of us would you want it to be? To be your soulmate?”

With trembling fingers, you moved your hand away from your mouth, your voice coming out small. “Are you asking me who I like most?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

You almost felt your heart drop, bolting upright until you were sitting atop your sheets. Wrapping your hand around your phone, you balanced it on your lap, uncertainty springing up in your gut.

Who... I like most?

Dream, George, and Sapnap. Sapnap, Dream, and George.

To think that just a year ago, you had never spoken to them—had only ever known them as three strangers through a screen. Yet here you were now, their voices soft against your ear and your heart aching at the sound of their laughter. They made you smile beyond belief, and you wouldn’t miss a call with them for the world, even if it was three in the morning and you were dead asleep. Although you had spent time with each of them individually, just as friends did, you loved spending time with all three of them together far more, and you didn’t want to imagine having them any other way.

George, Sapnap, and Dream.

Who did you like most?

You swallowed, then opened your mouth. “I,” you choked out, “I don’t—I wouldn’t—”

You stopped, your heart pounding like a drum between your lungs. You could feel them waiting for you, as patient and caring as ever. The thought made you want to curl up into a ball and cry. Screwing your eyes shut, you sucked in a deep breath and whispered.

“I don’t think I could ever pick just one of you.”

The silence that filled the air as you closed your mouth was tense. A million unspoken words ricocheted off the insides of your mind, your heart racing within the confines of your chest. The air suddenly felt too hot, and you kicked the covers off your legs, curling your knees closer to your chest and resting your burning cheeks on top of them.

“Maybe this is a sudden thing to say,” Sapnap whispered abruptly, his words coming out slurred as he broke the silence, “but I really, really want to know what you look like right now, [Y/N].”

You felt your arms go limp around your legs. “Me, too,” George added, thoughtful and faint. “I bet you’re beautiful.”

Resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands, you ran your finger along the edge of your phone screen, the glass pressing against your hot skin. “I—um,” you began shakily, “you’ll see when we meet, okay? This way, two of us can stay a mystery.”

Clay’s soft chuckle rippled through your bedroom once more, bouncing off the walls and making your chest ache even more. “Alright.”

You felt your chest constrict with heat, feeling like you were almost about to burst at the seams from the way they were speaking. “W-Well,” you laughed, trying not to sound as panicked as you felt, “on that note, I think I’m gonna go to sleep now.” You opened your mouth to continue when a yawn cut you off, eliciting a string of laughs from your phone speaker. “I’m feeling pretty tired.”

“Sweet dreams, [Y/N],” George murmured tenderly. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed with your heart battering against your ribs. “Goodnight!”

Reaching over, you pressed your thumb over your phone screen, exiting the call just as swiftly as you had joined. That had been hours ago now, and while you were tired, you couldn’t shake the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach—twisting and turning as you laid back on your bed. You slipped your phone onto your nightstand, plugging it in in a forlorn haze before lying back once more. Staring up at the lonesome ceiling, you frowned, your heart suddenly feeling like an anchor in your chest.

Without even an inch of doubt, you knew: you liked them—all three of them.

And it was going to be the end of you.

Having a crush was a dangerous thing in a world full of soulmates, especially if they were online—even more so if you had multiple. You could only ever find out if someone was your soulmate if you met them in person, and you had heard far too many stories of couples meeting in person, only to learn that they weren’t fated to be. Combining that with multiple soulmate bonds slimmed the chances even further. Multiple soulmate bonds weren’t exactly unheard of, but they were rare. You had never met anyone who had one, and you doubted that you would be the first you’d know to have one.

You suddenly felt it—that familiar spark of hope you felt all those months ago when you sat at your desk chair with a shirt on your lap. The hope that drew you to them now was the very same hope that connected you in the first place. Your heart leapt, lapping up every last droplet like a man dying of thirst, yet with each new spark that rained down in your chest, the thought clawing at the back of your mind loomed larger and larger.

Just what exactly were the chances all four of you would be soulmates? It had to be next to nothing if it wasn’t zero already.

This wasn’t like the manhunt raffle—lady luck could only be so generous.

Rolling onto your side, you felt something deep inside you reach its hands up and wrap around your lungs, squeezing as tightly as it could. The ache that shot through your insides stung like a hot coal, but you knew there was nothing you could do to soothe its hungry flames. Unshed tears pricked the back of your eyelids like silver needles, and you squeezed your eyes shut, choking back a muffled whine. Your bedroom suddenly felt too big, your bed too empty.

Hope could be beautiful, but it could also destroy you from the inside out.

“Do not leave the call.”

Clay’s chuckle sent a frown skittering across your face, and you let out a small whine as you leaned forward in your desk chair. “Aww,” he crooned, teasing and light, “are you jealous, Georgie?”

“N-No, what?” George sputtered, and you could almost envision the way his cheeks would flush a pretty shade of baby pink. “Just—just don’t hang up.”

“I’m telling you,” Sapnap laughed with a sly lilt, his voice sounding a little more distant than Clay’s, “he’s jealous.” You vaguely could make out the sound of his signal light from inside his car, a muffled car horn echoing from outside. “Or at least if he isn’t, [Y/N] is.”

At that, you whipped your head up, blinking wide as you shot a glare at Sapnap’s Discord icon on the side of your monitor screen. “Well, [Y/N]?” Clay drawled, a flicker of mischief dancing in his tone. “What do you have to say about that?”

You curled your fingers into your hands, a small pout settling onto your features as heat shot across your face. “I—I am!” you said, your voice coming out a fraction louder than you intended. When the other line went quiet, you shuffled back in your seat, your cheeks burning even hotter. “I am jealous, okay? It’s... it’s just not fair that you two get to meet before we do.”

There was a brief moment of silence. You were being childish, you knew, but at least you were being honest. Suddenly, Clay spoke. “We know, sweetheart,” he said gently, not at all realizing how your heart skipped a beat at the pet name. “But you’ll be able to meet us soon. Just wait a bit longer, okay? I’ll buy you both plane tickets if I have to.”

You pouted with a dejected whimper, your finger drawing small circles onto the side of your desk. “Okay.”

“Don’t sound so sad,” Sapnap chuckled with a soothing coo. “As soon as we can get you two over here, we will.”

You let out a sigh, swinging your chair from side to side with a frown. Was it so wrong of you to want to meet them so badly, to want to see them and hug them? Part of you didn’t even care if you were all soulmates at this point—you just wanted to hear them laugh in person. You wanted to make them smile. Was that really so much to ask for?

“I see him!” Clay suddenly shouted. Your head shot up faster than a bullet, and you heard the sound of a front door opening and slamming shut. “Oh, Sapnap.”

“Oh, Dream,” Sapnap called mockingly, his smile shining through in his voice. There was the sound of the car engine stopping, then a car door swinging open. “Holy crap, you’re way taller than I expected.”

You chuckled at the surprise in Sapnap’s voice, hearing George laugh along with you. “Jeez,” Clay muttered, his voice overlapping ever so slightly with the mic on Sapnap’s phone. “It’s so weird actually seeing you in person, oh my go—”

All of a sudden, Clay went silent, cutting himself off with a strangled noise of surprise. On Sapnap’s end, there was a muffled choking sound, then nothing. In a flash, you were upright, your eyes wide and your hand flying to your mouse.

“Sapnap?” George called, his tone soaked with worry. “Clay? Are you two alright?”

There came a gasp, and you could make out the sound of Sapnap struggling to search for words. “You’re—Clay’s my—”

Just like that, it clicked, like a switch had been flipped inside you. You felt something in your chest deflate, and you opened your mouth.

“Soulmates,” you whispered so quietly that you would have missed it yourself, had you not been the one to say it. “You two are soulmates, aren’t you?”

George fell silent. “I think so,” Clay mumbled, his tone coming out as if he were in a daze. “I’ve never felt anything like that before in my life—it definitely feels like what everyone says, you know? Just, really warm, and.... and...” He trailed off, ending with an enamoured sigh. “Yeah.”

Your mouth felt as though it had been sewn shut, like you wouldn’t have been able to force the words from your lips even if you tried. “How did we not know after all these years?” Sapnap giggled, his voice swimming in a mixture of disbelief and affection.

“We’ve never met in person up until now,” Clay mused, his sentence rising at the end. “This is the first time we’ve ever seen each other, let alone touched.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Sapnap murmured back wistfully. The call suddenly went quiet, and a deep, disappointed quiet fell over the four of you. Not a word was said as the harsh reality slowly settled into your hearts.

Clay and Sapnap were soulmates.

Only Clay and Sapnap.

“I’m happy for you two!” George suddenly shouted, startling you in your chair. He sounded oddly chipper—too chipper. “I wish—” He suddenly choked, pausing for a moment to catch his breath again. “I wish I was already friends with my soulmate. Meeting new people is hard.”

“Who knows?” Clay chuckled. His words were teasing, but even they couldn’t mask how crestfallen he sounded. “Maybe [Y/N] is yours.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap hummed in agreement, the hopefulness in his voice sounding just as forced as his soulmate’s. “You hear that, [Y/N]? Maybe you and Gogy were meant to be.”

Your vision was hazy and unfocused, your gaze focused on the window in your room. In the corner of the glass was a small spider web, just barely the size of your palm. You watched with blurry eyes as a fly caught in the sticky web beat its wings in desperation, struggling helplessly as a spider crawled out from behind the windowsill. You distantly wondered how trapped that fly felt—if it knew that there was no point in hoping for anything better, now.

Turning away from the window, you focused your gaze down at yourself, down at the black shirt you were wearing. A clean white axe stared back up at you, and you felt a bittersweet smile stretch across your face as you uttered a single word.

“Maybe.”

A loud beep echoed from the ceiling speakers, and you jumped at the sound. All around you, people were bustling in and out of gates, towing luggage behind them as they rushed down the crowded pathways and between loitering groups of people. You whipped your head this way and that at the sight, your head spinning with all the new sights and sounds.

It was still hard to believe that just a few months prior, you wouldn’t have been able to step foot in an airport like this.

To see people move from one place to the next, seeing loved ones and meeting new people for the first time was almost exhilarating, especially after all that had happened with the world. You liked it, and you certainly hoped that it was here to stay.

You had just started walking down the main path when you felt your phone ring in your pocket. Fishing it out, your face lit up at the caller ID, and you picked up without waiting another second, pressing the cool glass to your ear with a smile. “Hi, George.”

“Hey!” he greeted with a cheerful tone. “Did you get here safely?”

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you curled your fingers a little tighter around the handle of your suitcase with a hum. “Yep.”

“Good.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and it sent a familiar tingle of warmth bouncing down your spine. “How are you feeling?”

You paused, your steps faltering for a brief second as you pondered. “Nervous,” you said after a moment or two, “but a good kind of nervous.”

“A good kind of nervous?” he repeated with a fond tone. “I think I know the word you’re looking for.”

Your lips curled up at his words, your mind flashing back to a distant day from long, long ago. “Yes, George, I’m excited.”

The laugh that fell from his lips sounded like pure music to your ears, and you caught yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind drowning in the sound. “Me, too.” As you wove between a few sectioned off groups, George added gently, “You know where to meet us, right?”

You nodded with a small noise of confirmation, making a sharp turn down yet another long hallway. “Yeah—I’m pretty sure Clay and Sap are already waiting for us.”

George snorted, both affectionate and teasing at once. “Oh, I know they are. I’ll see you there?”

You grinned, bobbing your head along to the beat of your suitcase wheels rolling across the polished tiled floors. “For sure. See you there!”

Lowering your phone from your ear, you pressed your thumb against the screen before letting it drop into your pocket once more. A sigh escaped your lips as you let the ache you had been suppressing tumble loose, throbbing and gnawing away at the shaky shards of your heart.

How long had they known that Clay and Sapnap were soulmates, now? Five months? Six? You weren’t sure if you could even bring yourself to keep count, anymore. It hurt too much to think about. You were happy for them, you really were. But the selfish part inside you still longed for their touch, even if they wouldn’t ever truly be yours. It wasn’t that you didn’t like George, but you meant what you said—you couldn’t pick just one, and you wanted all of them, as greedy as it was.

Shaking your head, you pushed forward, your gaze darting up to the navigational sign hanging from the ceiling. No matter how painful it may be, you weren’t going to let your own heart get in the way of how amazing today was going to be. You were meeting your favourite people in the world today, and nothing was going to take that away from you.

Not even heartbreak.

Glancing briefly over at a map on the wall, you huffed as you dragged your suitcase up a set of stairs and through the corridor, chewing on the inside of your lip. George’s gate was on the opposite side of the airport from yours, and Clay and Sapnap were waiting in the middle for the two of you. His flight had arrived a bit before yours, so you knew you were just going to have to find all three of them together.

After another few minutes of walking, you found yourself walking into the central dome of the airport, the glass ceiling filtering natural light into the room as you wheeled your luggage in. Your lips parting in awe at the sight, you swept your gaze across the busy room, scanning over every head you could find. You had only been looking for a few moments when a head of dark sepia hair caught your attention. Narrowing your eyes, you shuffled forward carefully. Then, your lips split into a triumphant grin.

There they were.

In a heartbeat, you felt your insides melt at the sight. Sapnap and George looked as handsome as ever, their lips curled up into dazzling smiles as they spoke, and Clay—oh, Clay. This was the first time you would ever be seeing each other’s faces, but you didn’t have to see him to know that he was pretty. With tousled golden locks and emerald green eyes that flashed like gemstones, he was everything you could have asked for and more.

Chatting casually with one another, all three of them were dressed in comfortable clothes, and you wanted to fling yourself at them and bury yourself into their warm touch. Sucking in a deep breath, you marched toward them, slinking around so that you were facing their backs. Hugs could come later—right now, it was time for a surprise.

Treading slowly and carefully, you only stopped when you stood a foot behind them, the giddiness rising in your chest as you finally opened your mouth.

“Sapnap was right. You are tall.”

The three of them immediately whirled at the sound of your voice, their eyes as wide as saucers as their gazes locked on yours. The grin on your face only grew wider as you watched their faces light up in unison, like a set of stars coming together in the night sky.

“[Y/N],” they said at the same time, blinking wildly as you sent them a small wave.

You laughed. “Here I a—”

“We were right, too,” Clay suddenly blurted, bending over slightly. “You are beautiful.”

Your cheeks flushed with bubbling heat, and you felt your heart leap in your chest. “I—ah, um,” you stammered, taking a step back. “You look good too, Clay.”

Sapnap took a step forward, reaching his hand out toward you with a soft smile. “So, we finally meet,” he hummed, a brilliant gleam flashing across his eye. “Does this mean I get to hug you, now?”

You grinned, and with a giggle, you were leaping forward, your suitcase wobbling behind you as you let go. The moment you felt warm arms wrap around your backside, you felt yourself relax.

Then, your skin suddenly felt like it was on fire.

Warmth surged up your spine like a rippling flame, your eyes shooting wide open as you gasped, your fingers curling into the soft fabric of Sapnap’s shirt. In an instant, you were stumbling back, clutching at the space over your heart. You could feel it going absolutely haywire in your chest, pounding like never before. Your entire body felt as light as a feather, and your mind felt strangely hazy.

Impossible—it had to be.

“Sap,” you choked out, your eyes locking onto his own wide ones, “you—”

“George, Clay,” he suddenly said, reaching a hand out toward the two boys, “get over here. Right now.”

The two of them had been standing stock still just a few steps away, their jaws dropped and faces contorted with surprise as they watched you and Sapnap tremble across from one another. Swallowing, George took the first shaky step forward, reaching his hand toward yours. The moment your fingers brushed, the same tingling warmth crashed over you like a wave, and you let out a soft noise, happiness blooming in your throat like a blossom in spring. You watched with earnest eyes as George’s expression mirrored yours, his rosy lips parted in surprise as his fingers latched onto yours. The hope you had locked away months ago came pouring out of your glowing heart like a waterfall, overwhelming every inch of your senses.

“It’s not just us,” you whispered, your voice brimming with nebulous hope. “It’s George, too.”

George lifted his head, his breath hitched as he turned. “That just means...”

All three of your gazes landed on Clay, who was still frozen in place, stock still with shock. Your eyes darted to Sapnap’s, then George’s. You nodded in unison, and without saying a word, you stepped forward. You slipped your hand into Sapnap’s, your heart trembling with adoration at how big and warm his palm was against your own. Sharing one last glance with one another, you nodded. Just like that, you were slipping your hand into Clay’s, George following suit while Sapnap grabbed his.

In a heartbeat, everything felt perfect.

The empty cracks in your heart no longer felt as wide as they once did, instead flooding with burning warmth and something that felt like love. Your head spun with dizzying affection, and you felt your vision grow watery, but for an entirely different reason, now.

God, you loved them, you loved them, you loved them.

At your side, Sapnap’s hand shook in yours, surprise lacing his every word. “I can’t believe it.”

“A four-way soulmate bond,” George breathed, his own mouth twitching up into a lovestruck grin. “I—I never thought we’d have one. I mean, I always hoped but—”

Suddenly, Clay spoke up, his voice hoarse but full of sincerity. “W-Woah, are you crying? What’s wrong?”

In a flash, their eyes were on you, who had let go of Clay’s hand to press your palm against your eye. “N-Nothing’s wrong,” you said, your voice shaking with overwhelming emotion. “I’m just—I’m so happy.” A quiet sniffle bubbled up in your throat, but it didn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “I liked you all so much and I was so scared that only George was going to be my soulmate, because you’re all so important to me, and I couldn’t just give you guys up like that.”

“[Y/N],” Clay choked out, his own voice starting to wobble, “stop, please. You’re going to make me cry.”

Laughing, you leaned against him, soaking into the warmth of his body as his arm instinctively wrapped around you. “Just—just cry with me, okay? We can all cry together.”

You didn’t need to say it twice. Not even a split second later, and you felt two more pairs of arms snake up around you, a nose burying itself into your hair as a cheek pressed against yours. “It looks like you won more than just one lottery then, huh?” Sapnap mumbled from above you, his chest rumbling against your back.

“Yeah,” George chuckled, his fingers lovingly rubbing small circles against your arm. “First the manhunt, now this. Just how lucky can one person be?”

You smiled, rubbing your head against Clay’s shoulder with a loving hum. “I don’t know what the universe was thinking,” you murmured, your eyelids fluttering shut as you gently rocked back and forth together, “but I’m glad I won. You three are the best prize I could have ever asked for.”

You felt a pair of lips press a soft kiss to the top of your head, your heart sighing in your chest. “I love you,” someone whispered, too softly for you to tell who it was.

All around you, the bustling airport kept moving, full of life and bursting with energy as the crowds flowed around you like a river. The world was still moving, the planet still turning beneath your feet as you embraced one another, warm and safe in each other’s arms. But in that moment, none of that mattered. A dazzling spark danced along the crevice of your heart, bright and warm and oh-so full of hope as you opened your mouth to whisper back.

“I love you all, too.”

[its-me-im-coraline]

Little Puppet // Ethan Torchio, Damiano David

words // 4261, i have never written this much in one go my whole life, holy shit

warnings // smut, degradation, sub!reader, name calling (ya know, slut and stuff like that), threesome, oral, no explicit mention of protection, but obvi that's not how it should go in real life, anyways.... thats all i can think right now. has not been proofread

pairing // Ethan Torchio x F!Reader x Damiano David (leaning more to Ethan)

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. im going with female reader cause that's how it was requested. here's the smut playlist, def listen to it when you get to the smut part, or the whole time, whatever you want. thanks to anyone who adds songs to the playlist 💘

i feel like i cpupve made it kinkier but at 1 am and with over 4000 words i was a little tired to do that.

request // yes, here

summary // Ethan can not stop thinking of sharing his fwb with his bandmate, Damiano. A thought sparked from a random drunk conversation he had with his best friend will end up with them both pleasing Reader to tears

Experimenting in the bedroom was nothing unusual for Ethan and Y/N. The two had known each other for quite a while, overtaken by attraction but neither was ready for a relationship. Instead the pair opted for a slightly different compromise, one that had no name, no label, for now. While neither had the intention of an actual romantic partnership, it never stopped them from being loving and affectionate towards each other. Neither would ever have to leave before the morning comes.

Thus, as the light shone through his bedroom window, Ethan opened up his eyes, looking at the person laying by his side. Such a beauty, the shy rays of sun laying over the features Ethan so many times observed. It was common to do this in the morning, it would calm him down, especially on the very busy days.

“Anything particular you are thinking of while staring at me, Ethan?” There was no hesitation, no grogginess coming from Y/N’s voice, Ethan realised how he was not the only one awake previously.

“Well, I am, but I am not sure you could handle it,” he responded, smirking down at the laying figure, leaving a few kisses before finishing his reply, “plus, it is too early in the morning for such sinful thoughts.”

“Mhm, as if our endeavours last night were holy,” Y/N laughed, kissing Ethan back, as his lips crushed into hers.

“Well, you were certainly calling god if I recall correctly, cucciola, no?”

Maybe what made this situation not be awkward was exactly the fact that the two were friends. They thrived from the friendly banter, never missed an opportunity to mess with each other. It was just how they were and it worked perfectly to their benefit.

“I can tell it is troubling you, Edgar. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

"It's nothing amore let's just get ready. I'm quite hungry if you must know," he mumbled on her neck, trailing kisses all the way to her lips before abandoning the bed.

“Come on,” he called, ushering the girl to follow him.

Their feet were bare, no clothing no nothing -at least until Y/N pulled a few pieces of clothing for them both to wear- as they walked into the bathroom to start their day. They stood right next to each other as they washed their teeth, washed their faces, fixed their hair and so on and so forth.

“Isn’t that shirt too small for you, dolcezza,” commented Ethan, laughing at his own joke and poking Y/N’s side.

“Eh, well, I can take it off,” she suggested, pulling at the hem of his shirt that she was wearing. That only resulted in a laugh from the tall man, him shuffling her hair and walking out of the bathroom, putting distance between him and Y/N’s complaining about messing up her hair.

After that everything moved quite quickly. Y/N left the cosy home and went to her own house, leaving Ethan with his bandmates to work on their upcoming stuff. She knew how much it meant to him, but she also knew how stressful this career was to him. She always had something small to do to make his days even a little bit more relaxing, of course one of them being their nocturnal activities.

By the time night got around the drummer was sitting at the side of the pool, next to a small table, a beer in his hand as music played in the background. Everyone was doing their own thing: Victoria was swimming, Thomas was preoccupied with a cigarette and his phone and Damiano was sitting on the other side of the previously mentioned table having a conversation with Ethan. It started with speaking about small things before the subject turned more serious.

“You really like her, don’t you?” Damiano had, very early on, caught on his friend’s emotion, he was not very sure that Ethan was aware of his own feelings. It had become a little stupid in the frontman’s mind.

“I am not sure, Dami. She’s great, she is, and we are really close friends but… I don’t know…” Clueless as ever, thought the older man.

“Well, if anything at least you guys have a fucking amazing sex life, everyone can hear,” he laughed out, semi teasing his friend but kind of revaling a piece of information no one had had the heart to tell the tall man.

It caught him by surprise. He was never shy about his sex life, and truth be told he and Y/N never hid their predicament… He simply never thought they were being that loud; maybe that’s exactly the reason he had not understood the others could hear, the reason as to why they were so loud. “Mhm, didn't think you could,” he responded and took a drag of his cigarette.

Damiano copied his action, inhaling his own smoke and releasing it before he decided to say exactly what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it. I personally don’t mind it, it’s kind of… entertaining.”

If Ethan was surprised before then now he was shocked and blushing. Of course, it was not in his nature to show it, and make this feeling obvious, but he surely had thoughts running through his head now. “So, what? You jack off to us having sex, though about a threesome? What is it?”

“Maybe a bit of both,” said Damiano, looking down at his beer. He was a bit ashamed but at the same time he could not keep his mouth shut, the alcohol overtaking his proper ability to keep some thoughts to himself. “I have to be honest, the noises she makes, they kill me, man.”

Everyone could see the gears in Ethan’s mind turn. On the one hand contemplating his friend’s confession and on the other thinking of all the ways he could punish Y/N for being as loud as she was.“So, if I asked you to join, you’d be in?”

Now it was the frontman’s turn to get shocked and blush, but he certainly could not lie. He would be more than into it, considering the many times he has thought of that, each and every one of them leading to him either taking a cold shower or taking care of himself hoping that it’d be Y/N instead. “Yes, I suppose I would…”

The conversation stayed at that, neither of the two men knowing exactly what to say or do at the time being. Instead they opted to wait it out, see when the proper time comes to bring it up again before deciding on what to do. And that day came soon, sooner than either anticipated.

Y/N had been especially bratty -just maybe two days after the conversation occurred- pushing Ethan to his limit with the teasing, the innuendos and the clothes she was wearing. It was the perfect occasion. A little punishment was in store and the tall man knew exactly how to execute it.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan’s voice was stern, not nearly close to a yell but authoritative nonetheless, the stoic expression on his face never failing to let Y/N know exactly what he was thinking of: she was going to be fucked, both literally and figuratively, but she was surely into that.

“Such a little slut,” he voiced, pulling the girl to his body, their faces almost touching and their breaths mixing together. A whine left her lips but Ethan was quick to shut it with his words, “you were not complaining when you acted like one, cucciola. In front of everybody as well. Did you see how Dami was looking at you? I’m sure you flashed him at least once all night.”

The girl shivered at what her friend was suggesting, a tingling feeling was taking over her pussy, legs already ready to fail her.

“Maybe he could help me punish you.” These words almost send Y/N in a frenzy. Her eyes widened and her lips parted, an obvious gasp escaping her lips, causing a deep laugh from Ethan.

“You like that idea, don’t you?” She simply nodded her head, mind racing to all the possible outcomes of tonight.

“I need your words, dolcezza. I need your explicit consent to this,” he whispered, holding Y/N’s face in his hands, leaving a kiss just next to her lips.

She softly responded with a yes, voice trembling and low, unable to come out properly. She had gotten probably a little too excited.

“Be a doll and just sit there, yeah. I’m going to go call Damiano. I’m sure he is dying to see how desperate you are to have both of us.” With that the man left the room, presumably going to call his friend over.

When Damiano walked into the room Y/N was violently taken out of her thoughts, the man’s energy overtaking the whole room, his temperament easing any possible worry the girl could have for this situation.

“I’m here dolcezza,” called Damiano, sitting next to her on the bed with the biggest shit eating grin he could possibly have.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami. She’ll be cocky within minutes, we don’t want that.” Always the stern dom he is, Ethan asserted himself over both people in the people. He did not need many words or strong actions to show them who is in charge, a look and his tone were enough to let that be known.

Damiano looked down, in a similar fashion from a few days prior, only this time he was not really shy, more like a puppy that just got yelled at.

“Why don’t you get undressed Damiano, our little puppet over here can not wait to see what you have to offer.” The man mentioned smirked, his confidence reappearing in a second before obliging to his friend’s request.

He decided to play it dirty, going slow, surely attempting to give the little puppet a show. His hands moved slowly, pulling his shirt up and over his head before traveling from his chest to his waist in a seductive way, stopping for just a moment, making sure Y/N’s eyes were right on his own before removing his belt and opening up his pants. In the meanwhile, Ethan had moved Y/N to be sitting on her knees on the floor, in front of the undressing man, eye level with his pants’ zipper.

“Help Damiano, amore. It seems he’s struggling with his pants and you are right where you need to.” She shivered at his words but followed the orders, slowly unbuttoning his pants, her face having moved a little too close -not that it was not welcome- pulling them down and simply gawking at the view in front of her.

She went to move, to please, but her dominating best friend seemed to have other plans.”Not yet, puppet. Come on. This is supposed to be a punishment for you, but we all know how much a cock shucking slut you are. You’ll get his dick but you have more work to do.”

Damiano opposed his friend, already feeling desperate to get whatever he could from the girl below him, dying to feel her lips around his cock, oh and her tongue, oh that tongue he had seen plenty of times devouring ice cream cones in the most pornographic way possible. Sometimes he wished she was in one.

“I think it’s a good start to a punishment, Ethan. She can suck my cocka and then just simply not get it fucking her, yet.” His plan had some practicality to it, knowing very well how much she’d be dying to have a dick buried deep inside her after getting a feel in her mouth.

“I’ll allow it,” said Ethan, starting the process of undressing himself, and looking around the room for anything that could bring more pleasure to everyone involved.

“Well, what are you waiting for, cucciola. Go on, show him how well you blow whistles.” With that the girl wasted no time, pulling Damiano’s boxers down, taking them off him with his help and getting to work. It started off simple, a few pumps at first to get him even harder than he already was (he’d really bet that any man could get hard in seconds seeing her on her knees in front of him, it was a divine view). Her hand was going slowly, her focus on the man’s face, looking up at him all innocently, making sure that his own eyes were on her.

“I am looking at you, dolcezza, don’t worry,” confirmed the man, as if reading her mind.

So, she continued, entirely encouraged to show her best self, to be a good girl for the two men in front of her. Moving on, her hand stayed pumping the man’s cock for a second before her tongue came onto the mix, licking all the way up the curve, a very thick vein getting special attention and then the head. It was already leaking pre-cum, the girl’s antiques driving Damiano insane by the second -and she had not even started blowing him yet. With a push to her head by the singer Y/N really took his cock into her mouth, starting with the head, sucking and bobbing her head a bit, still moving her skilled fingers up and down, with every bob taking more and more of the length reaching a point where she had taken it all. She paused in that place for a second, relaxing her throat, Damiano’s cock resting deep inside her mouth, before she moved in need of breath. The same pattern repeated itself a few more times before the pace got quicker, following the music that was now playing from Ethan’s speaker.

It did not take long for the older man to cum, unexpectedly, in Y/N’s mouth, some delicious sounds leaving her lips and sending vibrations all through his cock, intensifying his orgasm.

“I could have never thought she’s that good, Ethan. Why have you been hoarding her this whole time?” He laughed, all in one breath and blown completely out of his mind.

“Exactly because I know how good she is. But tonight she has been plenty bad, although she’s trying to act all innocent now.”

“I’m a good girl daddy, see?” She questioned, tongue out, showing evidence of her swallowing predicaments, “I took all of it.”

Ethan smiled, looking down to his friend, his big hand holding her jaw and spitting in her mouth as it stayed open. Swallowing that down as well Y/N showed it to the two men, waiting impatiently for the next orders.

No orders came for the time being, Ethan sitting himself on the bed, back resting on the bed frame, opening his legs and motioning for her to sit between them. She clearly obliged, knowing very well that her punishment was already going to be overwhelming but oh so pleasurable and she wanted nothing more.

In all honesty the drummer was played to her needs every time, the punishments being always the outcome she hoped for (except few occasions when she had gotten Ethan so much she ended up edged on for over a week as a punishment, and although the orgasm was spectacular, the wait was torture). Ethan knew it and he was not opposed to it, instead working with the girl’s deviousness.

As she sat between his thighs, back on his chest and palms resting right on his thighs, Ethan used his calves and feet to keep Y/N’s legs spread open, thankful she was wearing a dress and panties that he could easily replace any time he wanted. He prompted Damiano to move between both their legs, face aligned with her pussy, the frontman practically salivating at the sight in front of him.

She had anticipated this night, having bought a cheap but utterly sexy lingerie set online, wearing said lingerie in an attempt to drive Ethan crazy. It was black, with little orange flowers here and there, some lace with mesh material surrounding her pussy, back piece doing little to cover her ass cheeks. Damiano was currently dying at the, almost, disappearance of the fabric due to the wetness leaving absolutely nothing hidden -not that the material could hide much anyway. He moved up, face just a hair’s distance from the wetness, just about to leave a kiss but the other man had different plans.

“Don’t be so eager, Dami, you’ll get what you want in a bit,” he said, palms massaging the girl’s boobs, kisses being left on her neck. “I think she’s overdressed.”

Damiano agreed to the statement, sharing just one simple look with Ethan, reaping the panties apart, her pussy now fully exposed. The singer looked up to his friend once again, a nod of approval being more than enough to shoot the man into action.

His lips swiftly found her clit, not much effort for the skilled man, sucking and kissing the sensitive bud, tongue lapping the juices of her pussy taking advantage of the wetness to stimulate her clit. Y/N’s head fell back, on the drummer’s shoulder, the man taking advantage of the angle and leaving kisses and marks on her neck, one hand always on her chest, the other currently choking her. She moaned so beautifully in his ear, making him harder than he thought he could get, surprised at how well he held himself together.

Damiano kept eating the girl out, fingers starting to dive into her pussy one at a time. He got up to four, said pussy taking them in wonderfully, practically swallowing them within the velvety confines. “I’ve experienced nothing hotter in my life, dolcezza. This pussy is scrumptious, could eat it for days,” he, himself thrusting on the bed, already having gotten hard again, craving some friction. His mouth was leaving wet kisses to her thigh and his fingers were deep inside her, going in and out, Ethan adding his own fingers, playing with her clit edging her closer and closer to the edge.

All the telltales were there: the shaking, the loudness, the closed eyes… She was ready to cum, but it was not something Ethan could allow yet. He stopped his actions, placing a hand on his band mate’s head, said man getting the memo and pausing as well. “You really thought you’d come this easy, amore? Oh no! You have been acting like a desperate slut all day, flashing Damiano and now letting him taste you, knowing it drives me crazy. You have been very naughty,” he explained before shuffling her off his body, moving to stand up.

Y/N could not help but whine, the sound only enabling the two men. “I think she’s been naughty again. Didn’t you say you’d be a good girl, puppet?” She simply nodded head looking down, but not before seeing the look on Damiano’s face. “I think some spanking would put our puppet in place.”

Ethan nodded in agreement, already moving Y/N to bend over the bed, her legs wobbly from her previously denied orgasm. “Count for Damiano, dolcezza,” said the man, leaving a kiss on her back and then starting his actions.

“One.”

Although her words were what was asked of her Damiano was not satisfied, giving her one of his own and speaking up. “Say thank you, puppy, don’t be rude.”

Another spank, “three, thank you,” she followed the orders, jumping forward with every slap on her skin.

As she reached ten it got harder to count. Damiano had started fingering her again, opting to pause his actions after every few thrusts, slamming his palms on her ass cheeks or pussy. It’d be a lie if Y/N said this wasn’t enjoyable-after all she could not stop moaning loudly, but the redness of her ass would disagree.

“Why don’t you keep quiet, puppy? These noises of yours are what got you here. You can’t hide how much you like this, can you, slut?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was on the verge of cumming all over Damiano’s fingers, unable to speak yet again.

“Use,” spank, “your,” spank, “words,” spank.

“I can’t hide, daddy,” she responded, this time leaving an almost screaming moan, eyes rolling all the way to the back of her head, once again almost falling apart.

Before she had the chance Damiano stopped, hands retracting from the girl and into his mouth, tasting her on his lips.

“I think you can take at least one more, puppet. Can you?” Ethan, had been quite distanced this whole time, deciding to let his friend get a taste of his sex partner, but deciding this was the best moment to do his thing.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, letting out a simple “green,” to let Ethan know she was not stopping just yet.

“Beautiful, puppy! You have been doing so good for us, taking your punishment so well, but we are not done yet.” A buzz sound is what concerned the girl, eyes widening at the toy.

It was a small remote virator, imitating sucking on the clit. The drummer placed the girl over his knees, stuffing the toy between his leg and her clit, shocking the sensitive bud. “I think you can take a few more spanks,” said the man, landing one at the expanse of her thigh, the skin giggling at the contact.

“Damiano, count,” ordered the assertive man, seeing his friend kneel in front of Y/N, kissing her and then doing as he was told.

“I think we were left on twenty-three. Twenty four,” he began, counting all the way to forty before the ordeal was over.

The whole time Y/N was shaking, just about to fall off the edge, asking for permission to cum but her wishes were not granted just yet. She was exhausted, overstimulated, frustrated, and now unable to move on her own. But, oh man did she need more. The two men were more than willing to assist her.

“You are doing so well, dolcezza,” praised Damiano, thinking of what to do next.

“Why don’t you get up, puppet. I think it’s time you get what you want.”

At that, her head perked up, already jumping from Ethan’s lap (almost falling while doing so) eager to be fucked and to finally orgasm. “I want you on all fours. You suck me off, Dami can fuck your pussy. I’m sure you’d love that.” She nodded, moving to be in all fours as Ethan stood on his knees on top of the bed, Damiano following suit and placing himself behind Y/N.

“Agh,” he groaned, “sei così bagnata, bambina,” he commented, collecting all the wetness on his cock before pushing inside her.

The action and the moans it emitted caused vibrations to Ethan, making him groan in pleasure, Y/N’s talent to shuck not wavering now. “You like this a lot, puppet, don’t you? Being fucked by my best friend while sucking my cock, huh? You like that?”

She could only hum in response, holes being filled to the brim so pleasurably. It was all better than she expected, more overwhelming, so she could not keep it anymore. She released Ethan’s cock, screaming loudly as her release finally overtook her, Damiano groaning in contentment. He pulled out of her afterwards, jacking himself off a bit before coating her back in his own cum.

Now the only one left unsatisfied was Ethan. His pleasure was cut short for the girl’s release, and although he was not mad, he certainly wanted to feel her.

“Can you handle one more for me, cucciola? You did such a good job so far but I need to feel you.” Y/N nodded and changed her position, this time her legs were in the air, soon to be wrapped around the drummer, eyes half closed in bliss.

“Such a good girl for me,” Ethan praised one more time before he started his rhythm slamming into her. This time it did not take long for both of them to reach their highs, the man riding out both of them and after taking a second to breathe he pulled out, falling right next to her.

“Are you ok?” This time the concerned man was Damiano, a bottle of water already in his hands and ready to give it to the girl.

“Mhm… Thank you,” she mumbled, voice almost a whisper but the smile was hard to miss.

“I think I should leave,” said the front man and he went to get dressed, abandoning the room, leaving only Ethan and Y/N in it.

Ethan got up quickly, looking around for a cloth as he got to the bathroom and wet it with some warm water. Coming back, he used it to clean Y/N up; her back from Damiano’s cum, her face from the cum and her dried up juices and her pussy from the left over wetness, a pair of underwear and a t-shirt in his other hand.

“Come one, dolcezza, you did so good. You’ll go to sleep in just a second. Come one, help me get you dressed,” he voiced and started leaving kisses on her face.

“You took both of us wonderfully, thank you.” Another hum as a response.

Ethan realized how at this point she had fallen asleep, fucked out and exhausted, he did not expect her to stay awake.

“I only wish I could tell you this when you’re awake… I think I’m in love with you."

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019