#sorry if the pov shifts give you whiplash

[barbwritesstuff]

Spoilers for the upcoming update!

Since you wanted feedback on the Nathan's scene I thought I'd give my impressions! I really liked it personally! Their banter is great, the back and forth, the way they constantly poke fun of each other, the insults hurled with clear adoration.

And I think it's totally fair of Nathan to still be wary. While I was sighing when reading it from the POV of my MC, I absolutely understood him. There is one variation of the scene where Nathan keeps clinging to the stake thorough the spicy activity and I really felt like because he was giving up so much already, making himself so vulnerable in front of someone he should consider his enemy, he wanted to feel like he wasn't completely defenseless and that he still had some semblance of control, even if he wasn't actually gonna stab MC.

Also it was both really cute and hot. I have such a weak spot for big scary men blushing 🥺 And despite being so bashful about it he yearned for MC so much?? Absolutely fantastic, chef's kiss. And he was so sweet too! How gentle he was with MC when he saw them biting themselves. I feel like at that moment he truly understood how serious they are about not hurting him.

Also as a last point, after Nathan opened to MC like this, giving them the chance to hurt him, and was shown care instead, his shift in the way he treats them is so clear, and I love it. He shows that he cares, making sure they are safe for the morning, promising that he'll stay with them. And then when Tracy shows up and he is ready to fight at a moment's notice, it really highlights how he wasn't like this with the MC anymore.

Gosh I loved his scene so much. He just might be my favourite now, sorry Marcel 😞(Also sorry about the wall of text! Oof!)

Please don't apologise! I'm so glad you liked that scene. The first draft was VERY messy (the tonal whiplash was strong enough to break necks), so I'm really glad I managed to pull it together into some semblance of good.

I really wanted Nathan to have his moment while also not having him immediately drop all his defences after thirteen years as a hunter.

💙

[backtothefanfiction]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell | TF!Boys Mafia AU ~ Part TWO

Summary: Phoenix has one last night of freedom before she is forced to go to work for her dad. What better way to spend it than a night on the town? Maybe taking home one of the guys she knows will only wind up Pope... or hopefully get her closer to bedding the man himself?

Warnings: 18+ Only, (Mature Content), Dark Mafia Romance Au, broken family, unhinged female rage, AFAB, OFC, Mixed POV, objectification of the female body, drug and alcohol used, smut, bondage, dom!reader, oral (m!recieving)

Word Count: 5.2k+

A/N: I am sorry this took so long to get done and posted. I also know I could have gone further into things at the end of this chapter but it felt like it ended there for me and it'll give us a place to start in chapter three. Once again we are gonna jump around to a few different character's perspectives. As always if you enjoy please give feedback and reblog, it means a lot. Also I'm posting this without doing a final proofread so may still contain some errors, but hopefully not. Enjoy!

TWO

PHOENIX

I haven’t been back in this room for years. Although I was bounced around boarding schools since I was 12, I still came home for the holidays and most weekends- my bedroom becoming a shrine to all the things I loved as a teenage girl. Hunky male actors (who we’re definitely way too old for me) cover my walls. All the half page and sometimes double spread posters from the centerfolds of my favorite magazines. Whatever space lay between was covered in doodles- made by sharpies- in an ever decreasing interest in becoming an artist.

My en-suite cupboards are filled with a plethora of half used bottles of crazy color, that are sat tempting me in my post break up adrenaline. They are probably long past their best before date and not that effective. At least that’s what I tell myself as I’m getting out the old tupperware pots still waiting under the desk and begin dumping out colors. I’ve only really got enough pink and blue to do half my head, so decide to split my hair in half straight down the middle and do a half and half ombré with the two colors a la Harley Quinn. But when my eyes fall on the toxic neon yellow shade, I know I have to find a way to work it in too. So instead of taking the pink and blue right down to the very ends of my hair, I decide to put the yellow on there instead. 

I’m sat on top of my old hand-me-down four poster bed, reading one of the old teen magazines (that have been kept in a box under my bed all these years) whilst my hair develops, when my Dad finally comes up to find me.

“What in hell’s name have you done to your head?” He says, stopping short in the doorway when he takes in the sight of me.

“What can I say? I was bored.” I say bluntly, barely looking up from between the glossy pages of the magazine.

“Give me that.” He says, stepping forward and snatching it out of my hands.

“Hey- I was reading that!” I protest, but he cuts me off.

“You’re 26 Phoenix, it’s time you start acting like it.”

I genuinely look at him shocked. After all these years he’s finally decided to grow a backbone and discipline me. “Woooow.” I begin to sass him when I spot  Ez over my Father’s shoulder, encouraging me to stop.

“Enjoy your last night of freedom Phoenix, because come tomorrow night you’re going to work with Archie.” my old man continues.

My attention snaps back to him so fast I almost give myself whiplash. “What!”

“Don’t give me that shit. You’re back living under my roof, you pay your way like everyone else in this house.”

“What, even Marina?” I snark, knowing she’s never done a single day’s work in years.

“Yes, actually.” my Dad retorts, “She helps me with the books.”

“Yeah, I bet she does.” I roll my eyes.

“Look, you don’t like it- maybe you shouldn’t have set fire to your life all over again. Jesus!” He turns on his heels, growing exasperated with me. “Your shift starts at 7 tomorrow. You can get a ride with Archie.” my Dad barks before he storms out the room without shutting the door behind him.

“I told you, you’ve really done it this time.” Ez chastises me from the open doorway.

“Oh shut up.” I say, getting up from the bed and slamming the door in his face.

I want to scream the word ‘FUCK’ for the whole house to hear, but I don’t want to give them the satisfaction. Only I would get cheated on and then punished for it. 

My fingers instead rub at my eyes. ‘Fuck this shit,’ I think to myself, storming over to my closet. I fling the doors open and survey what I have to work with. Most of it is from when I was 17 and near anorexic. It takes a few passes back and forth between items before I decide on a couple of items and choose to get a little crafty with them.

An hour later I’ve washed out my hair and styled it, throwing on a full face of makeup- complete with glitter and a dark lip- I now don an outfit made up of two spliced shirts, the front an old silver sequin shirt I’ve cut into a square and then fixed to the straps of a black spaghetti strap top. It hangs low enough to just about cover my pleather hotpants covered ass. My bra and tits are almost completely on display, but it’s just the bait I need to not have to buy a single drink tonight. Given that my Dad runs Medusa’s as well, I won’t even have to pay to get in.

I shove on a pair of bejeweled silver ankle boots to match the makeshift dress I’ve scraped together and throw on my old faithful leather jacket- once an oversized fit, that now fits perfectly- and I’m ready to go.

“Hey, give me a lift down to the club.” I say, knocking on Deano’s door frame two rooms down.

He barely looks away from his TV where he’s in the middle of a racing game. His fingers, glued to the controller in his hand, twiddle the joists and the tires from the car on the screen, screech through the sound system he has hooked up. “What’s in it for me?” 

“I’ll finally introduce you to Lucy.”

“How do you know she’ll be there?”

“It’s a Friday night. She’ll be there.”

“Phe, you haven’t been down to Medusa’s for years,” there’s a beep from the TV as he pauses the game to finally look at me, “how are you so sure- Dad is gonna kill you before he lets you go out dressed like that.” he says.

“Well I wasn’t planning on giving him a fashion show before we left.” I sigh, crossing my arms and legs, leaning my body against the door frame. “Besides, he’s the one who said this was my last night of freedom and I don’t plan on spending it sitting on my bed in my joggers 

watching reruns of the old house wives.”

“Fine.” he sighs, rubbing at his face, “But you’re messaging Lucy to make sure she’s gonna be there.” He points at me.

“Doing it now.” I say, reaching into my jacket pocket for my phone and typing out a hasty message to my old partner in crime. “Get dressed.” I bark at him.

“So bossy.” 

“Yep. And don’t you forget it.”

FRANKIE

Although most of the people in the clubbing business are in their 40s and 50s, the actual clubbing lifestyle is not suited for anyone over 35. Unless you are a woman in your 40s that is. (You’ll be surprised at the amount of middle aged Mom’s who band together and make a big deal about going out at least once a month, so that they can hold on to some semblance of themselves and their youth- especially if they have kids.)

No. If I had it my way, I would definitely not be spending my Friday night at a club full of sweaty twenty something year olds, all scantily clad or greasy and sleazy, trying to make a pass at anything else that walks or even just looks too long in their direction.  I can’t say the same about Benny though- but he is and always has been the baby of our little quartet. The man still hasn’t yet hit 40, so this ideally is still his game; and out of all of the clubs we’ve bought over the last few years, Medusa’s is without a doubt his favorite.  Marble stone statues dotted about the place, a large spray painted mural of the lady herself, complete with 3D gold fiberglass snakes that protrude from her head and red lights in her eyes. 

It’s also where most of the rich kids in town come to spend their money, so it always turns a pretty profit; not just from the booze, but also the amount of drugs that are bought and exchanged in the toilets. All of it our gear of course. 

Even when we aren’t dropping by for an inspection, Ben will still opt to spend most of his nights here sampling the merchandise, before taking home the prettiest young thing in a skirt he can find at the end of the night. That poor creature will then wake up at the penthouse the following morning and attempt to slip out before anyone else notices her. Unfortunately though, I’m an early riser and usually already sat having my morning coffee in the kitchen in my t-shirt and underwear, so a clean and easy get away very rarely happens.

We’ve barely made it through the door for the evening when he’s already eyeing up some girl dancing around a pole on top of one of the platforms. She’s barely wearing any clothes and has pink and blue hair, definitely Benny’s type. He’s always been fond of something a little more reckless and different- like him. He’s practically salivating as he comes to a stop to stare at her across the top of a couple of booths.

“Don’t even think about it.” Pope’s serious voice cuts through Benny’s thoughts. It has us all looking then.

Pope has never been one to make a comment or cock block any of us for that matter. He’s always said, what we do in our own time is none of his business; but the mere sight of this chick has him growing tight. 

Benny looks like he’s about to protest, his hands rising into the air to indicate back to the chick in a ‘oh come on, how can you say no to that’ kind of way- and I don’t really blame him; this chick’s even got my eyes lingering to places they shouldn’t. But Pope’s face remains firm. “I’m serious Ben, you don’t want to touch that,” he says. “And that goes for all of you.” He adds quickly, seeing the way both William and myself also seem to be taking her in. Because it’s true, she really is like nothing else here. The way she’s dressed, her colorful hair, her confidence- it’s magnetic. 

She sways her hips more, a naughty smile on her face. She knows we’re looking. But her eyes don’t linger on us. They linger on Pope. 

“You know each other?” I ask, observing the obvious.

“She’s David’s kid.” He states as if he’s already exhausted by her. By us. By this whole conversation.

“The fire starter?” Will chimes in. He seems to be eyeing her up with a whole new kind of appreciation now.

“Fire starter?” Benny’s ears prick up and he begins to bounce on the balls of his feet, palms rubbing together as if he’s gearing up for a competition.

“I told you Ben, hands off.” Pope says again. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.” He says and continues to walk towards the back of the club to a raised seating area that’s reserved only for us.

“Yeah, yeah.” Benny sasses back to him, but leans into me, nudging my shoulder with his as he says, “what’s he gonna do?” He nods in David’s daughter's direction, before giving me a mischievous smirk.

PHOENIX

In all fairness, this so-called ‘last night of freedom’ was turning into a bit of a dud until they walked in. There was no real entertainment. It was boring. Predictable.

Lucy was indeed at the club as predicted, flanked by a couple of nobody guys already hovering around her like mosquitoes, despite the fact she didn’t seem to give a single one of them the time of day. My brother of course quickly joined their ranks. No- she was far more focused on doing blow at the table with her “girls” (I’d never met them before… couldn’t even remember their names), but I joined nonetheless. After all, Lucy was loaded. 

She worked as one of those so-called “influencers”. She was constantly charging companies upwards of 10 grand a post, claiming it was such hard work to take a picture and write the perfect caption for her 1 million followers who only followed her for her looks, not her substance- of which she had very little.

So I made small talk, bumped a couple of lines and downed the complimentary bottles of bubbly that kept being brought to her booth and over all, tried to block out the mind numbing monotony of the whole situation. I only started dancing on the table to give myself something to do- but then my new buddy and his friends walked in. Gods he was more handsome and mysterious under the cover of night- and his friends weren’t bad looking either. 

They all wore some version of an all black uniform; casual suits with half open button downs, black T-shirts and leather jackets. I didn’t know which one I wanted to sink my newly single teeth into first, because let’s face it, I’d happily fuck each and every one of them… maybe even twice… or maybe even more than one of them at the same time.

It’s clear the biggest guy wants me too, the way he stands staring, his tongue practically lolling out of his mouth as he salivates, his eyes taking me in like I’m already his favorite meal and he can’t wait to chow down. No doubt he’d take me for the ride of my life, if I let him, but it’d be too easy. I love a challenge and the way Pope has his eyes on me, I really can’t resist. 

As he ushers them to move on, taking the lead as they make their way towards a VIP booth up a couple steps over to the far left of the DJ booth, giving them the perfect view to survey their goods, my mind begins to whir as quickly as my limbs swing around the pole in my hands. I watch tentatively from a distance, taking mental notes of every little thing he does. The way he runs his hands back through his tight curls when he becomes stressed. The way he struggles to relax, always sitting further forward, reaching for his phone or something on the table, or if that fails, fiddling with the buttons of his open blazer as his fist rests against his hip.

He’s uptight that’s for sure. Typical business type who likes to be in control and run the show. If I’m gonna wear him down, it’s gonna take time and not just on the side lines working in this club, but I have to penetrate his inner circle. As I slump back down next to Lucy in the booth, I slowly realize what I have to do. It’s just like in the olden days, if you wanted to bed the King, you had to get yourself in with someone lower down in his court and work your way up- and I knew just who to start with.

BENNY

I knew Pope had said no, but when had that ever stopped me before? He knew what I was like. Knew I’d rather act now and enjoy myself and deal with the consequences later. Besides, it didn’t matter whose kid she was, if she was in here, she was clearly legal and the way she’s been eyeing me up since we sat down, clearly meant she wants this too. She’s firmly placing herself down on the table- and damn- if that isn’t that most appealing slice of cherry pie I have ever seen.

Actually scratch that, she looks like the embodiment of one of those slushies you can get down at the 7/11 and all the guys know the blue raspberry, cherry mix is my favorite.

“Yo! Ben!” My brother snaps his fingers in front of my eyes, breaking me once again from my fixation and fantasies. “Brother, have you been listening to a word Pope just said?”

“Yeah, of course.” I bristle, but in all honesty, I haven’t got a fucking clue.

“Oh really. Go on then,” he presses me, as Pope and Frankie stand and begin to leave the booth, making their way over to the bar, “tell me what he just said.”

“Something about going and checking in with the team leader that’s on tonight to check about sales or something.” I murmur my reply.

“Lucky guess.” My brother says, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, why did you call her the fire starter?” I turn and ask him. He’s got that look on his face and struggles to meet my eyes, because he knows it’s a bad idea to answer my question and supply me with no doubt deadly information, but he also knows I’ll just keep asking or find it even more of an intriguing game if he doesn’t.

“She set fire to her school.” He finally says, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a stick of gum, unwrapping it and placing it in his mouth. I’ve never understood his obsession with the stuff, but then again, I’ve never understood why he’s such a neat freak either. And to be honest, given my brother's near compulsive need to always have minty fresh breath (despite the fact I know he ain’t been kissing no girls in a long time- not since Kylie broke up with him) I’d probably place my bets on the two things being linked. “Oh and she set her fiancé’s bed on fire when she found him in bed with another girl. Or should I say ex-fiancé now.” Will continued as he chewed down on his gum.

His words had my eyes growing wide. “No, Ben, don’t even think about it.” He chastises me.

“What?” I say indignantly. “How do you know what I was thinking?” I ask him.

“Because I know you. You’re probably wondering what it’s gonna take for her to set you on fire.” I can’t help the small grunt that escapes me as I cross my arms and spread my legs, sitting myself back in the booth. “Yeah- exactly.” My brother says with his know it all attitude. 

I hate it when he does that. He pretends like he’s all high and mighty, but I know for a fact he checked her out too, when we first arrived. And I know he would definitely hit that if given the chance. No doubt she’d be too much for his uptight ass though. But then again, I think to myself as my eyes glance back across the room to her as she gets back up from her seat to begin dancing and wrapping herself seductively around that pole again, maybe that’s exactly what he needs to loosen him up a bit. But given the way she’s currently eyeballing me, there’s no way I’m letting him tap that before me.

PHOENIX

I take my time as I wait for the rest of them to finish up for the night and leave- knowing all too well that Benny would stay behind. Between drinks, and the odd extra sniff of blow off the back of one of Lucy’s guy friends’ hands, me and my target for the night have been eye fucking each other like it’s a sport. At 1am he approached the bar. At 1:15 a pink and blue bubblegum flavored drink made its way over to me. It didn’t take two guesses to work out who had sent it- but the bartender told me anyway. 

I raised it in his direction, with a polite smile of thanks, before I seductively brought the straw to my lips. I kept eye contact with him as I began to suck it down and he gave me the dirtiest smirk, before he turned his attention back to Pope and the rest of their group. When I flashed a look towards the elder gentleman he quickly turned his eyes back away from me, but unfortunately for him he wasn’t quick enough for me to not see the look of contempt in his eyes. Oh yeah, this was gonna be fun.

It was another hour and a half before the rest of them left. At this point Lucy was too far gone. Half of her mates had disappeared. There was only one other girl left at the table with us who was talking to my brother, whilst two other guys who had been thirsting over Lucy all night, finally seized their moment.

“We’re gonna take her home.” one of them shouted as the other attempted to pull a very inebriated Lucy out of the booth. I thought for sure Deano would protest being the sober one and designated driver, but he was far too wrapped up in the red head sat next to him; who also seemed fairly sober considering the state the rest of our group had been getting in most of the night.

Overall though, I couldn’t care less- I had my eyes on my own prize. 

The tall fair haired man finally began to make his way over to me now his companions had officially left the building. He looked like he could be a boxer… or a football player. As he got closer I noticed his eyes were a piercing baby blue. 

“Benny.” He said, holding his hand out to me.

“Phoenix.” I replied with a smile in the corner of my lips, taking his hand carefully in my own and giving it a shake. I noticed Deano notice him and bristle slightly, it was clear he wanted to say something, but the way Benny turned his eye on him, he quickly lost his nerve.

“Deano.” Benny said, laying on the charm.

My brother swallowed hard. “Benny.” He said a little tightly.

“Here-“ Benny said to Dean, slipping a hand into the inside pocket of his blazer, “why don’t you two go treat yourself to a couple of drinks on me,” he said, pulling out a money clip. He peeled off a couple of bills, handing them over to my brother, before he slipped the money back into his pocket. Deano gave me a small reluctant and protective look, but when he looked back to Benny, he knew not to protest- after all he did work for him and knew not to get on Ben’s bad side.

“Come on, Isla.” He said to the red headed girl beside him, offering her his hand before leading her over to the bar.

As Benny sat himself down next to me in the booth, I couldn’t help but smirk. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Deano that scared of anyone.” 

Ben let out a scoff, “Nahh.” He said, denying the claim with a small wave of his hand. “It’s nothing really. Dean’s a good guy. I fought him once actually.”

My brow furrowed at the piece of information- so he was a boxer. “Really?” I pondered.

“Ehh just a small little work match.” He said, sitting himself back and smoothing out his trousers. “We’ve got this boxing gym down near the docks. Some of the guys like to go down there sometimes, let off a little steam.”

“Does Pope go?”

“Pope?” His brow furrowed slightly, but his tone was one of surprise. “Nahh… nah.” He said, shaking his head. “My brother and Frankie do sometimes, more to support me and just watch, but no- Pope doesn’t really go there. It’s not really his thing.”

I pause for a moment, just to take in the information. “So what does he do to let off steam then? I mean, the man seems pretty uptight.” I say the second part of the sentence lightly, I don’t want Benny thinking I’m only using him for information about his Boss.

“To be honest… I don’t really know.” Ben confides in you. “I mean, I come here and do my boxing, my brother likes his bikes. Frankie likes to take off into the woods and go fishing. But Pope, honestly, I don’t know.” He goes quiet then. He’s contemplative, as if he’s never really put much thought into it before. I shuffle myself slightly next to him and he quickly snaps back out of it though. “What about you?” He turns his head and asks me, his eyes raking over me and lingering over my chest on the way. “What do you like to do to let off steam?”

☆

I’m barely thinking about how I just ditched my brother, leaving him alone at the club without even saying goodbye, as Benny slams my back into the door to the penthouse apartment. His lips have been on mine since the elevator doors closed. When the bell dinged to signal we had reached the top floor, we hadn’t even parted; he hooked his large hands underneath my ass and lifted me up, my legs and arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders and hips as I allowed him to carry me like a literal child to the door.

He propped me against it with his hips as he fumbled in his pockets looking for a key card. “Wait, wait, wait…” he said against my lips as he reluctantly parted from them, “just give me a… second.” He said as he finally located the card and held it to the small black box beside the door. There was a beep and the tiny light went green as the door went click. “There we go.” He muttered to himself, pulling on the door handle and pushing it open before latching his lips back onto mine and taking me inside. 

He carried me over to the kitchen island, where he finally put me down atop the cold marble countertop, parting with me for only a moment so that he could take off his, no doubt expensive, designer blazer and hand it over the back of one of the bar stools at the end of the island. The quick break allowed me to survey the room in the city lights that streamed in through the large floor to ceiling windows that lined the far left wall and wrapped around the side of the stairs at the end of the large open plan living space, that no doubt lead up to the bedrooms.

“Is anyone else home?” I asked breathlessly, as he moved back around the island to nestle himself between my legs, his large palms sliding up and down my bare legs.

He shook his head, a small glint of excitement in his eyes. “No, my brother and Frankie had business to attend to.” He explained, his eyes moving up and down my body, taking me in like I was a meal, as he spoke. “They won’t be back for at least another couple of hours.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he immediately began to attack my lips with his own again. 

It was thrilling to finally kiss another man after being with Freddie for nearly five years, even his Ben’s lips were a little rougher. It was clear already that Benny was all about force; his job, his muscles, the boxing, his kissing- and although in the right person a little force in sex can be a good thing, I knew sex with Benny would no doubt be fast hard and over way too soon before my orgasm had even had a chance to build. But I’d been watching him all night, saw that look in his eye when he first saw me. Noticed the double take he did when his brother no doubt told him who I was and what I’d done. I’d seen that hunger in him grow and I knew what he truly wanted.

I broke my lips from his, feigning the need to take a breather; and to my delight, felt his lips begin to travel down my neck instead, affording me a chance to look over his shoulder towards the dining table right in front of the window and formulate a plan. I slowly began to walk my fingers down his chest, making a path right for his belt. My lips attached themselves to his once more in an attempt to distract as I began to push him back, hopping down from the counter as I walked him slowly backwards towards the table, carefully maneuvering him around it in front of the large window that overlooked the city. I gently hooked my toes around the chair leg at my side, pushing it out from under the table and shifting it to just the right position behind him, all the while my fingers worked to undo his belt. He smiled against my lips with a knowing chuff as I swiftly pulled the belt from the loops, the metal of the buckle jangling in my grasp.

I met his eyes with a devilish look as I pulled away from him, gently nibbling on my lower lip and he grunted slightly in anticipation. However that grunt turned into a small moan as I pushed him back down into the chair and sat myself on top of him. I could already feel how hard he was in his slacks, eager to get inside me. 

He reached his arms around my back as he tried to grind up into my sex, but I shook my head. “Nuh, uh, uh.” I chastised him, reaching behind me for his wrists. At my words, he pouted, but that childlike look of wonder quickly returned to his eyes when I moved his arms behind his back and began to wrap his belt around them, fastening them tightly into place, before I stood up and began to step back from him.

“What ya gonna do fire starter?” Benny asked me teasingly as I began to sway my hips back and forth; looking him up and down, taking in the sight before me.

“Who, me?” I teased as I slowly began to lift up my top to reveal myself to him.

“You gonna set me on fire too?” He asked almost excitedly.

“Maybe… someday.” I said, as I began to slide my shorts down, leaving them in a puddle of fabric on the floor with my top. Now stood only in my underwear and heels, I began to slowly walk towards him again. “But tonight…” I teased as I circled him, my finger dragging across his chest, up across the back of his shoulders and back again. When I was back in front of him I slowly began to drop to my knees before him, my hands sliding up his thighs and back down again as I parted his knees, “-tonight,” I said again, my fingers beginning to inch back up towards the opening of his slack, “I think I’m just gonna blow-” I unbuttoned his trousers, pulling the fabric and forcing the zip open, “your-” I reached my hands in below his waistband and pulled out his cock, it was so hard and thick just the sight of it made me begin to salivate. “Mind.” I finally said as I wrapped my lips around his cock, my tongue swirling around his tip, making him moan loudly into the dark room.

________________________________

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@casa-boiardi @southernbe @littlenosoul @movievillainess721 @pastawench @littlemisspascal

[weebsinstash]

bro 😨 i swear some of these are actually psychological horror books

I think the problem at least for me is really how it's handled and a lot of these authors are like obsessed with high school teenagers having sex. Like for example if you just spent like several chapters describing all the ways she's been physically and sexually abused by her own father to the point she literally doesn't even understand what the mate bond or love actually is, like her dad fucked her up so bad he would molest and beat her and say it was love, and she's instantly terrified when she meets her mate because she fears his love too, and then the story will switch to his pov and hes like, LUSTING for her, that's not ok? That's fucked up, like tone wise?

Like for example i know teenagers who are 5'4 and curvy probably do exist but is it like truly appropriate to be describing how sexy and hot to protagonist is when she's 1. A high-school girl, a child 2. An incest victim and has been since she was 13 and 3. The abuse literally just ended like a chapter or two ago and she hasn't even mentally recovered

Rm for length

Like this story goes from her new future Alpha mate who is also a high schooler saving her from being raped, he literally walks in on, ew, her father forcing her legs apart, and then like maybe 4 chapters later "oh maybe to help her understand the mate bond and help her be more comfortable, we can have her spend time with these other two kids her age who are mates" and she's like watching them touch and cuddle and be physically affectionate which i find insanely inappropriate actually, she was molested and told it was love so you're exposing her to other people being touchy with each other? Like an actual talented author would have made the connection that, realistically, the protagonist would probably be massively uncomfortable if not outright triggered by this, like at one point she has a panic attack so bad she passes out. and the dude who is her mate like, tries to cuddle her while they watch a movie and stuff, and she kind of likes it, but from my perspective as an adult and as a reader i just keep thinking "can you guys not even give her like a couple of months before trying to like lowkey manipulate her"

Like for the love of fucking god I don't want to hear about how he's literally getting fucking hard by cuddling with her and his internal monologue about how sexy she is and how badly he has to hold his wolf back from pouncing on her when BOTH OF THEM ARE MINORS like GROSS, what age group is this story even intended for, it's going from really adult topics to like really tropey mid tier highschool drama bullshit? I don't want to hear the fucking boyfriend thinking shit like "she shifted just slightly, briefly putting her hand on my thigh for a moment, and it sent waves of electricity straight to my cock" when she's like. Trying to just watch a movie and let dinner settle into her stomach because she's so poorly malnourished she can't even take full bites of a sandwich, she has to tear pieces of it off and eat slowly bc she feels so sick. Like it's the WHIPLASH.

Like sorry maybe when you're still a teenager, shows that show teenagers being flirty and sexual with each other might be appealing, but im a grown woman, and it rubs me the wrong way, idk? IS there an appropriate way for adults to write about kids in this way? Sometimes it's cultural I guess but imo I basically consider everyone a kid until they're like 20, 21 and it just. It's creepy. Please stop talking about how this like 16 year old is gorgeous and doesn't even need makeup and she has double d size breasts and a flat stomach and a thigh gap and a fat ass but is somehow also dangerously malnourished like, it's very. It's just outta pocket. It's weird man and that's coming from me. I'm gonna listen for a little while longer but I just find the handling of her abuse a little bizarre.

And also like. They have her speak to a therapist about how horrific her abuse was and the therapist immediately goes to her future mate and is like "I'm not supposed to tell you this but you are her mate, so--" and just tells him all her personal shit. That should have been her choice to make. They're not giving her enough time to heal. Maybe it's just upsetting for me because I'm dealing with a lot of mental health stuff and these plotlines involving being manipulated and betrayed behind your back and not respected or having your own autonomy is really hitting me

[amplifyme]

Sorry to burst in like this but I have a request for all our generous and benevolent fanfic writers, near and far. Please, please pick a POV and stick with it for the entirety of the scene you’re writing. You wanna change POVs for the next scene or chapter? Have at it. But make that shift apparent to us as soon as we start reading it. Please don’t give us whiplash by presenting a POV in one paragraph and switching to a different one in the next (or even within the same paragraph - yikes). It tends to cause some confusion and can yank your readers out of the comfy mindscape you’ve led them into. 

Please and thank you. ❤️  

[cant-think-of-anything]

Pirate AU (Part Five)

Lucie watched Alastair gently clean his sisters wounds before bandaging them up.

Knowing how much they cared for each other, she had expected Alastair to be angry. And though he was ready to quite literally murder Tatiana, he didn’t seem mad at her. Lucie couldn’t say the same for herself. 

Cordelia had gotten hurt. She could’ve been killed if she wasn’t protecting Lucie. Dragging her out of her spiraling guilt, Thomas pressed a cup of tea into her hands, warming her cold fingers. He was also watching Alastair. 

“You could not have done anything to prevent this Lucie.” 

Lucie stilled. Thomas had arrived with Alastair who ended up sending a message to Eugenia. The three of them had helped Lucie clean up the glass and left Alastair to address Cordelia’s shoulder since he was the only one who knew any form of medical training. When Lucie had questioned him, he responded he knew how to do many things, like baking and tattooing. She had decided not to ask if he was being sarcastic. 

Thomas and Eugenia seemed fueled with purpose. Upon telling them Tatiana Blackthorn, the same woman responsible for the public marriage scandal between James and her daughter a few years back, was the one who had killed Barbra, they seemed more focused on vengeance than anything.

Eugenia snapped her fingers loudly. “Oi! Lucie, Thomas get over here.”

Alastair and her cousin had spread out a map of London they had acquired from the library. Combining the information that had come from Alastair and Lucie, they had placed that Tatiana was indeed another pirate, and apparently belonged or led one of the scariest crews to exist. Which was really just delightful for them.

After locating the ship’s docking point, Alastair had gone earlier, confirming that the ship was there and, judging by the symbol carved into its wood, the correct ship. 

“We need to get in somehow,” He said quietly while studying the maps.

Suddenly, Thomas looked up. “Christopher.”

“Who?” Alastair asked, staring as if Thomas had lost his mind. 

“My cousin, he makes things, if we need to break into a ship he’s quite good at making destructive things.”

And that, seemingly, was all it took. As her friends packed their items, discussing quietly, she watched Cordelia, still asleep, breathe softly in the firelight.

“I don’t want to leave her,” Alastair said, startling her. “But I trust you’ll take good care of her.” 

Lucie turned her face away. “For what happened… I’m sorry.”

Alastair looked up, surprised. "You needn’t apologize for that. My sister makes her own decisions, however ill-advised they may be sometimes. She won’t blame you and nor do I.”

Before Lucie could respond Eugenia rapped her knuckles on the door to grab their attention. She watched as they left, leaving her alone with an unconscious Cordelia. Mostly alone she thought, looking at her very tall friend who was staring at the fire. She sat next to him, crossing her legs on the couch and letting her head fall against his shoulder.

“Pirates,” He whispered, shaking his head lightly.

“Indeed,” Lucie responded before adding “Thomas, darling, have you seen what they wear?” 

Thomas laughed and bade her goodbye, following Alastair and Eugenia. 

~~~

Eugenia thought she had met her fair share of quiet people, but being in a carriage with Alastair was like being in a carriage with a well dressed mannequin. Thomas had mentioned needing to drop by one of his other friend’s houses and promptly abandoned Eugenia. 

“You found my brother.” She said, cutting into the silence.

“I did,” Alastair replied, still staring out the window.

How was it even possible for a person to talk this little? Eugenia made a frustrated noise and waved her hand in front of his face, smiling at his scowl.

“I’m trying to thank you,”

“I found your brother entirely by accident. I don’t think that’s praise-worthy.”

“Well you saved him by the sounds of it.”

“He told you?” Alastair sounded surprised. “Well I suppose I did it out of instinct. And a bit of thought went into how you would feel.”

Eugenia smirked, pretending to swoon. “He cares!”

Alastair swatted her arm before reaching into his coat. When his hand withdrew, there was a silver longsword in his grasp, the hilt littered with rubies. She sucked in a breath and reached her hand out to touch the engraved handle. She felt a jolt of surprise when Alastair gave it to her.

“All our weapons are gold anyway. It wouldn’t match. Try not to get yourself killed.” He went back to staring out the window, but Eugenia found she didn’t mind. 

~~~

Thomas ducked into Christopher’s lab, cursing London’s tiny doors to find his sister and Alastair already seated there. 

Christopher’s head was bent over his notebook, his hair nearly catching flame on an open fire before Alastair threw a damp towel at his head. 

“Thomas!” Christopher greeted, his face lighting up. 

“We need your help,” Alastair said. He seemed to hate any form of pleasantries. 

“With?”

“We need to get into a… very thick wooden box,” Eugenia cut in.

Christopher’s face clouded, and Thomas could practically see his mind working. Christopher was the smartest scientist in London and that Thomas could say with entire surety. He didn’t like keeping things from him, they had been inseparable for so long but this was not his secret to tell. 

He listened as Christopher told them what all he needed to create such a substance and Eugenia rose, offering readily to go to the market. Thomas thought he saw a flash of silver in her coat but she was gone before he could ask. His cousin’s face was in a deep revere of thought it seemed so Thomas left the room, Alastair close behind. 

~~~

Eugenia wished the cobblestones on the ground of this godforsaken market would swallow her up whole. She quite liked the boisterous activity and the loud arguing. What she did not feel so fond of was crouching in the alleyway like a lowlife trying to avoid her own family. Matthew Fairchild and Anna Lightwood were known to frequent illegal places and as much as Eugenia loved them, she wished she could snap her fingers and make them disappear. If they found her here they would certainly tell the rest of their friends, and Eugenia couldn’t risk putting Lucie and Thomas under scrutiny now. 

“Hello?” 

Eugenia cursed vehemently before turning around to face whatever person called out to her. 

And oh, Eugenia was going to positively faint. Someone would have to drag her out of the market and send her body home. There was a woman standing in the alleyway, a hat shaded half of her face but Eugenia knew it was just as lovely as the rest of her. The mystery woman brushed long black hair out of her dark brown eyes to study Eugenia. 

“Are you all right?” The woman asked with her perfectly shaped lips moving to help her up. 

No. “Yes! Of course.” 

She looked amused. “Is there a reason you're crouched in a dirty alleyway then?”

“A perfectly normal, justifiable reason yes.” When the woman waited for her to elaborate she added “I can’t let my family see me here.” 

“Ah,” She responded before sticking out her hand. “I’m Kamala.” 

“Eugenia.” 

“I came in through a back exit, I can take you through there.” Kamala hesitated then, and Eugenia realized that their hands were still interlocked. “If you would like that.” 

Well she couldn’t have said no to that.

~~~

Alastair, it seemed, liked to perch on dangerous places such as the third floor balcony. Thomas was caught between the urge to join him to see the appeal or pull him off so he wouldn’t get hurt. 

Thomas watched as he tipped his head back, his perfect dark hair rustling softly in the wind. Moving closer hesitantly, he placed his forearms on the railing, seeing Alastair’s eyes open from the corner of his vision. 

“Are you okay?” The words slipped out on their own accord.

Thomas turned, facing the shorter boy fully. Alastair’s entire being seemed stressed and worried and while Thomas understood why, an irrational part of him wanted to see if he could fix that. 

“We might die.” 

“Not a pleasant thought.” 

“I don’t care much what happens to me, but Cordelia and my mother can’t survive on their own.”

“Why? Cordelia seems capable enough.” 

Alastair shook his head, turning his eyes away as if he’d said too much. 

“Where have you sailed?” Thomas questioned, leaning back onto piller, sensing the signal for a subject change. He also couldn’t quite wrap his head around the “pirate” thing. 

“Many places. All of them were better than this repulsive town.

That startled a laugh out of Thomas. “I can understand that. I wish I could leave this city too sometimes.”

Alastair leaned closer and cocked his head to the side “Where would you go?”

Thomas flushed and leaned back. “Anywhere I suppose.”

Alastair looked as he was going to respond but the door banged open. Thomas jerked away, just realizing how close the two of them had been to look at Christopher. 

“Eugenia’s back.” He called, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked back and forth between them. 

~~~

Cordelia felt as if someone had an iron arm clamped to her shoulder and was shaking her brain vigorously. She opened her eyes and groaned at the stabbing light. 

“Cordelia?”

Lucie, she tried to say but found that she could not. She felt an actual hand wrap around hers and soft fingers brush hair from her forehead. 

“It’s okay, don’t say anything.”

Slowly, Lucie’s outline cleared and she could see her lovely blue eyes hovering a few inches from her face. Suddenly it was hard to breathe for entirely different reasons. 

Lucie gently laid her hands on Cordelia’s arms, careful not to disturb her wounds. Cordelia found herself suddenly overwhelmed with how close her fire-lit skin was, the hesitant brush of an escaped curl against her neck. She never wanted to pull away. 

“I know you just got hurt on your shoulders,” she started hoarsely, “but I thought…” 

Cordelia, finally able to find her voice said “Never blame yourself Lucie. If it were to protect you I would do it a thousand times over.”

She heard Lucie’s breathing stop before she pulled away slightly, much to Cordelia’s disappointment. 

“They found the ship. We’ll find her too.” Lucie’s eyes blazed bright. “I want you to teach me, show me how you wield your weapons, set your ships on water. She took far too much already and I refuse to let her take more.” 

~~~

You know that one tik tok audio that’s like- “Everyone is just who they are and who they are is just stone cold gay?” Yeah that’s this fic

ALSO someone help me out who’s taller in Joshwood?

Tagging: @adoravel-fenomeno and @barbra-lightwood (Also I didn’t say this before but I can add you if you want)  

[hiddens-eden]

The Last Tune (Emmett Cullen x Male!Reader) Pt 1

Paring; Emmett Cullen x Male Reader + Cullen Family x Male Reader (PLATONIC)

Warning: Cursing, Abuse, Tramua, Angst

Pronouns; He/Him

Spelling checked; No

Summary; Y/N is a quiet boy that's had his fair share of physical and emotional trauma, so he loves to keep to himself. He barely interacts with anyone unless needed and prefers to listen to music and sketch in peace. So imagine his surprise when some of the most popular kids in school want to be around him! They heard him singing along with his music and were immediately entranced. One of them in particular has his eyes set on him. Though, they are not the only ones who have an interest in Y/N.

A/N; Hello, my little Otaku's! Welcome to my first fic! I hope you enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated! Just be kind! I'm sorry if it seems at all rushed! On my next stories I do plan on switching PoV's so it'll be easier to write and more entertaining. Enjoy!

"Who are they?"a dark haired girl asked her friend that was sitting just across from their lunch table

"Those are some of the most popular people in school, the Cullen's. Not only are they hot as hell, but they're charming to boot! They do disappear for long periods of time, which gives them an air of mystery."

At the Cullen's table, they softly chuckled at the description the new girl was given. After all, it's only natural considering what they are. They are a being talked about in many fantasy tales. Known for their taste for blood. Vampires, a creature of the night that feasts on humans. However, they in particular don't drink human blood

They went back to softly talking to each other, but a few minutes later something caught their attention. A soft voice echoed in their eardrums. It was enchanting and beautiful, it was like nothing they've ever heard of. They all simultaneously started looking around for the source of the pleasant sound when the new girl asked about someone else.

"Who is that?" she asked, pointing to a table where a boy sat by himself

"Oh! That's (Y/N), (L/N)! He doesn't talk much, but when he does, you can't help but feel so tranquil and at peace!"

That caught the vampire's attention, and they whipped their heads to where the brunette was pointing. Noticing that that was where the sound is coming from.

"What do you mean?"

"His voice is so soft, like silk! But it has a sort of firmness to it! That's not the only thing, though. He is so kind, adorable, and smart as well! He even helps who ask for him to tutor them. His personality makes everyone want to be around him!"

That rose some questions in the vampires heads. If he is that well-liked, why is no one sitting near him?

"Then why is he alone?"

~The vampires will have to thank the new girl for asking so many questions~

"Well, whenever people come near him, he gets anxious and tries to get away as soon as possible. Someone grabbed him on accident, and he started having a panic attack, falling to the ground, and hyperventilating."

The Cullen's were a little shocked when they heard this. That wasn't normal for sure

"Holy shit. Was he okay?"

"Yeah, he was sent home early. But, some students saw his face as he was leaving and said that he looked terrified. We think something is going on where he lives, though we can't know for sure" she shrugged

"Once he came to school the next day, he was wearing long-sleeves. I thought it was weird considering he never wore them before, but the rest of the school shrugged it off as it being in the winter months making it reasonable. The person apologized the next day and (Y/N) just said it was fine, and he just likes being alone, so now that's what we do"

Right when the girl finished, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Making everyone get up and start to throw away their trash and head to class. All except one person...

"I don't think he heard the bell" Emmett said

"Gee, none of us would've guessed!" Rosalie responded, causing the other Cullen's to chuckle

Suddenly, Jasper's sight shifted to his wife Alice because he felt her stiffening up, a tell-tale sign of her power activating. The other vampires looked at her as well, waiting for her to relay what she saw. After a little bit she came to and, slowly, turned to Emmett grinning

"Emmett, why don't you go over and tell him class is about to start? Maybe even ask him to tutor you! We all know you need it." she remarked, still grinning

Starting to understand why she was acting like the way she was, Emmett sighed, wanting to protest, but he knew Alice's visions almost always came true, or they would end at the same conclusion.

He made his way over to where the boy was sitting

"Remember not to grab him!" Alice semi-shouted from where she was standing

Emmett waved her off, still approaching (Y/N)

He gently tapped (Y/N)'s shoulder, making the smaller boy jump in surprise and what Emmett can only assume is fear

(Y/N) turned his head around fast enough to give him whiplash and that's when he met the golden eyes of the person that startled him

He took his earbud out before speaking, "I-Is there s-something I can do for you?" (Y/N) asked shakily

Emmett stood there for a moment. He had never seen someone so hot and cute at the same time. The girl was right, too. His voice is the embodiment of angelic. Emmett took this chance to take in all the boys features, from his soft (S/C) skin that reflected the light of the cafeteria. To his intoxicating (E/C) eyes that he could get lost in over and over again. Emmett felt a small pull to (Y/N), and he knew exactly what it meant.

“H-hello? Are you alright?” (Y/N) asked

“I-I um…class is about to start…”

(Y/N) looked at the time and blushed

“So it is…” (Y/N) stood up and started collecting his things “T-thanks for letting me know” (Y/N) stood to leave but was stopped as Emmett stood in front of him

“I was wondering if you could help me study for chemistry? I’m currently failing” Emmett chuckled, rubbing the back of his head

"I-I don't mind, where should we meet?"

"How about the Library after school?"

(Y/N) smiled the slightest bit "Sounds good, now if you don't mind I need to get to class" and with that (Y/N) left the cafeteria heading to his next class. Emmett slowly rejoined his family, still in awe from the recent interaction.

Jasper grinned from the emotions Emmett was emulating

"It seems Emmett is very interested in that guy"

"Hell yeah I am! Did you see him?!"

"We did" Edward answered him, "But"

"But what?" Emmett asked

"I can't read his mind, same with the new girl"

"Does that mean they're a supernatural?" Rosalie asked

"No, they aren't. The new girl is a weird case, but (Y/N) seems to just have fantastic mental walls and barriers. Which is concerning..."

"Then I'll have to break them" Emmett smirked

The rest of the Cullen's let out a collective sigh as they made their way to their respective classes. Still wondering what was going on with the mysterious (Y/N).

The final bell rang, indicating the end of the school day. Students started to funnel out of their classes and into the hallways. Emmett was waiting outside (Y/N)'s classroom, ready to head to the library.

After waiting awhile of waiting, (Y/N) came out of the classroom books and binder in hand

"Hey"

(Y/N) jumped and turned around to see Emmett, a look of relief claimed his face

"You ready to go?"

"Y-yeah"

As they made their way to the library, they made some just talked about their interests and things of that nature, eventually arriving at their destination. After they settled in their seats with the necessary books, they started the study session.

Emmett found it cute, they way (Y/N) would nervously try and help him understand the complex formula's and equations. After a few explanations, (Y/N) sat down and started to work on his homework. Unconsciously, (Y/N) started to sing to himself, making Emmett perk up and look at him.

"You're a good singer"

(Y/N) blushed, "Thanks...but others don't think so..."

"Are you kidding me?!" Emmett stood up, causing (Y/N) to jump a little, "Your voice is amazing!"

(Y/N) blushed at the praise he was given. He'd never been complimented before, so this was new to him.

"Thank you" (Y/N) smiled, making Emmett's cold and dead heart swell with something he's never felt before

"N-no problem" Emmett said before sitting down, and starting to work again, still thinking of that cute-ass smile

Soon, the sun started to set and that was their cue to wrap things up.

"Could you tutor me again tomorrow? If you're free, that is" Emmett asked

"Sure, I should be open. Meet here after school?"

"Deal"

"Then I'll see you tomorrow" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett before walking to his place

To say Emmett was giddy is an understatement. He was over the moon. Not only did he get to be tutored by his adorable mate, but he also got him to open up and be more relaxed around him! He made his way back to his own house and entered with his head still stuck in the clouds. Unaware of the fact that the whole family was sitting in the living room

"It seems that Emmett had an amazing time" Jasper couldn't help but let out his own smile from Emmett's emotions

"Something good happen, Emmett?" Carlisle asked, intrigued by Jasper's comment

"I think he's the one"

"The One?" Esme questioned

Alice snickered, clearly happy that her vision seemed to have came true

"My mate" Emmett replied, still thinking about the fun time he had studying with (Y/N)

"Congrats!! But, make sure you claim him before anyone else!" Esme explained

"He's not an object, Esme" Carlisle chastised

"I know, but humans may not understand their feelings"

"I just have to take things slow. I don't want to scare him off"

~Next Day at School~

"Hey (Y/N)!"

"Hmm? Oh, hey Emmett!" (Y/N) smiled sweetly

As Emmett got closer to (Y/N) he noticed a very distinct smell coming from the boy. "(Y/N) are you alright?" he asked concern lacing his voice

(Y/N) visibly tensed and started to shake slightly. "U-um ye-yeah? I'm f-fine"

Emmett was less than convinced. He needed to know who or what hurt his mate, so he could end it's pitiful existence, then and there. Though, he decided not to add anymore fuel to the fire...yet.

"If you say so. We should head to to class"

"Yeah"

"Are we still on for tonight?"

"If you still want to, then yes" (Y/N) smiled at Emmett causing him to absolutely gush at his adorableness

"Yep! Totally!" (Y/N) chuckled at Emmett's response

While heading to class they just talked about whatever was on their minds. Well, mostly Emmett since (Y/N) is a closed off little bean <3. But, that didn't stop either of them from enjoying themselves. Even once they where in class they softly whispered to each other. Their teacher didn't care much because (Y/N) is a model student and Emmett is a popular kid (you know those teachers that try and get in with the cool kids? Yeah, that's their teacher). When they went their seperate way's for their second block (Y/N) though that was it, like all of the other people he's tutored. He just thought Emmett was being kind and he'd see him after school for their study session. But he was proven wrong at lunchtime.

(Y/N) was eating by himself at a table listening to music and singing along softly when he felt vibrations coming from next to him. He looked over to not only see Emmett, but the whole Cullen entourage in tow. He was shocked to say the very least.

"Can we sit here?"

Collecting himself he responded with a soft "Yeah". The Cullen's then sat down, Emmett sitting on your right and Alice on your left. She squealed and looked twoards you "I've wanted to actually talk to you for a while now! Emmett talks about you and your singing too! I hope I can hear you one day!" This, this was how (Y/N).exe has stopped working. You where an embarassed blushing mess while looking at Emmett in mock betrayal. 'He talks about me?' you thought. He just smirked enjoying your cuteness.

"Ahh!!! He's soo adorable!!" Now you were a even darker red. Only provoking Alice more as she got slightly closer to you. You were about to curl in on yourself when you felt that you were being griped by the waist and pulled into a solid chest.

"Alice, your going to make him explode" Emmett said slightly, just slightly defensive

She laughed "My my what about you then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look down, bonehead" Rosalie butted in amused

Emmett did what she said and saw you an absolute wreck. If a cherry was a person it would be you at this point-

Now he was trying to compose himself. The sight of both of you made everyone at the table start chuckling. After that whole fiasco you got to know Emmett's family and started to enjoy their presence. Something you never really had the pleasure of experiencing...

Over the next few weeks, Emmett did everything he could to be even remotely close to (Y/N). They would do studying sessions at the library, and after they would get something to eat. Well, only (Y/N) did. He thought it was weird Emmett never ate anything, but Emmett assured (Y/N) that he was eating well. They would often go to parks and just have fun too. However, all fun things come to an end. When one day (Y/N) didn't show up to school. Emmett just thought (Y/N) got a cold, but soon days turned to weeks and he was getting worried. He didn't know where (Y/N) lived so he couldn't go to his house and see if he was alright, but one day Carlise came home a little later than usual which was not unnoticed by his family.

"You're back late" Esme commented

"Well there is a teenager in critical condition. He came in with severe lacerations all over his body and what seemed to be marks of repeated tramua as well. He came in a couple of weeks ago and was in a coma until he flatlined earlier this morning" Carlise took off his doctor coat and placed it on the chair making his way to Esme. As he stood next to her he looked over to see his "children" with wide eyes

"Is something wrong?" Carlise asked a bit worried

"When did that patient come into the hospital?" Emmett asked urgently

"(Date). Why?"

With that all of the vampires stood up and started to get ready to go to the hospital

"What's wrong? Where are you guys going?" Esme asked

"That's most likely my mate" Emmett replied, making it clear he was irritated

"Well then what are we waiting for?" Esme rushed everyone out the door and to the hospital

At the hospital, they made their way to the room (Y/N) was at. Once there, Carlisle motioned for Emmett to enter first. Emmett went in and was shocked by what he saw. (Y/N) had many tubes attached to him. His body was wrapped in bandages and his breathing was hitching. Emmett walked over to the resting (Y/N) and reached out for his hand, grasping it softly. He rubbed his thumb over the boy's knuckles in a reassuring manner, then sat down next to the bed, still holding (Y/N)'s hand. He could only think about how much he failed his mate. How could he let this happen? He knew there was something going on, but he did nothing? He turned a blind eye to it all. How can he face (Y/N) when he wakes up? Emmett's thoughts were interrupted by someone's voice

"Who are you?"

"I should be asking you that" Emmett replied

"I'm (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

With that, Emmett's world stopped. Boyfriend? How? Why? Was I to late? Emmett turned to (Y/N) conflicted, but that's when he saw the heart monitor. His heart rate was not that high a while ago.

"Can you leave me with my boyfriend?" (B/F/N) asked harshly

Emmett reluctantly stood up and made his way to the door, but not before taking one last look at (Y/N). Once he was out of the room, Emmett started walking down the hallway back to his family.

"Who was that guy that went in there?" Rosalie went up to Emmett

"Apparently, he's (Y/N)'s boyfriend"

The Cullen's looked at Emmett in sadness and pity, but they noticed something

"You don't seem that bothered about it" Jasper said

"Well, before he came in, (Y/N)'s heart rate was normal, but when he spoke his heart rate rose"

"So, you think-"

"Yeah, his 'boyfriend' must've done that to him"

"That's awful" Esme covered her mouth in shock

"We can't really do anything if we don't have proof though" Alice said irritated

"Then we'll just have to get some" Emmett smirked, making the other Cullen's nod

They made their plan's and put them on hold until you were sent home. In the meantime, Emmett came to visit whenever your 'boyfriend' was never there and if he was, Carlisle was keeping a closer eye on you than normal. He also noticed that (B/F/N) would only ever sit in the chair across the room and when he would glance at you a look of disgust would be present on his face. This further solidified his resolve to get you out of that situation.

~A few days later while Emmett is visiting you~

"We're going to help you (Y/N), Everything will be better soon" Emmett reassured the sleeping male whilst holding his hand. He then felt (Y/N) clench his hand and looked up to see those beautiful (E/C) orbs opening

"Em-"

"Shh, don't strain yourself yet" Emmett stood up and pressed the 'call' button just above (Y/N)'s head before sitting back down

"Where-"

"The hospital...can you tell me what happened to you?"

After a brief pause, (Y/N) shook his ever so slightly

"That's fine, just tell me when you're ready" Emmett smiled sweetly. He saw (Y/N)'s face contort into sadness as he started crying. "I-I'm sorry f-for worrying you" (Y/N) choked out between sobs. Emmett couldn't see him cry like this, so he started to comfort and reassure the other male. "You'll be okay...I won't let you get hurt anymore..."

A/N: I really hope you liked it! Please tell me your thoughts! Sorry it took way longer than I said! I will now be working on the requests I have gotten and a new series I've conjured up ;)By my little Otaku's!!

[britswriting]

Unbroken (12)

*Leighton's POV*

"Did you get lost on your way to the bathroom?" I asked and Colby chuckled, shaking his head.

"I asked Kat if she knew where you were" He shrugged and I nodded, the room falling silent, and I heard him sigh "Can we have our talk now?"

I set down my iPad, scrunching my face a little. "Why now? I thought you were going to watch a movie downstairs?"

"I want to clear the air" he said, sitting down on the floor and I made a weird face. "You can sit in the chairs. I'm not going to force you to sit on the ground" I motioned towards the chairs in front of me, giggling a little and Colby smiled a little, nodding and then got up, taking a seat in the chair across from me.

I reached for my apple pencil again, ignoring his stare. I was sketching out some facial details when he cleared his throat and started apologizing. "I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just worried. You left with someone we didn't know and came back the next morning" He fiddled with his own rings which I smiled softly at.

I couldn't help but wonder if he always had that tick, or if he was picking it up from me. 

"Were you worried for my wellbeing or that I was some morning after whore?" I muttered and Colby shifted in the chair as I erased a mistake I made in my sketch. I was working on drawing a couple cartoon characters interacting with each other and I was struggling with poses at the moment.

"Honestly?" He asked and I nodded. I winced when he let out a big sigh, his hand rubbing against his face making me narrow my eyes at him "You thought I slept with him?" I asked, giving him my full attention.

"You came home wearing his clothes Leighton" He spoke in a defensive tone, and I pursed my lips, setting my pencil down.

Why was he acting like a jealous boyfriend? Last time I checked, he hated me?

"Okay hold on, even if I DID sleep with him, why the fuck does that matter? You're not my boyfriend or even my friend for that matter!" I snapped, getting mad at his uncalled-for outburst about my whereabouts and social life.

"I know! I'm sorry! I can't help but feel protective over girls. I've had too many friends get hurt! Guys are dicks" Colby started and I scoffed, crossing my arms and I saw him look back at my tattoos.

Oh, so we're friends now?

Honestly, I was starting to get whiplash.

Did he like or hate me?

"You're the only dick I see" I cocked an eyebrow and I saw him smirk before letting out a cough and pulling his lips into a thin line

"Okay, I see why, and I'm sorry! I don't normally act like that and before you laugh in my face, I truly mean it. I never have girlfriends and I wanted to try going out with this person, and as you can see it wasn't my best choice. I wanted it to work out though. Which is why I figured if I got rid of everything to make it easier and I'm sorry you got the shitty end of the stick. Even Sam's yelled at me about this girl-"

"Colby, you have people over ALL the time. I'm honestly just glad I don't share a wall with you. You got to start making your one-night stands use your own bathroom"  I cut him off, tired of listening to the words that were falling out of his mouth so helplessly

"I haven't had that many people over lately!" He held his hand out towards my face, trying to prove a point.

"I've been living with you for like a month. It's noticeable. I'm not trying to control your life Colby, I'm just saying that you can't tell me this was a one-time thing, when you constantly have girls over in your room" I noted and it got silent for a moment before he shook his head, fixing his hair

"We're getting off topic" He chuckled, brushing off what I had said. I tilted my head, squinting my eyes and pursing my lips. "You were literally calling me a whore when I've only slept with one person the past three years, and you've slept with one person basically daily!" I exclaimed, my head starting to hurt from his constant back and forth.

"That isn't true!" He laughed and I bit my bottom lip, trying not to let a smile slip at the way he had laughed, letting him continue "I haven't even slept with them all, a lot of them are just friends" He defended, and my jaw dropped as I yelled "Wow!" my laugh finally slipped out in a playful disbelief.

"What!?" He shouted, laughing a little. I internally grinned at him trying to hold back his own laugh "I haven't slept with them all" I mocked.

"What!? I haven't!" His voice got higher and laughed again, biting my tongue.

"ANYWAY, I didn't sleep with my ex, it was 1am, I was tired, I went to bed. Sue me" I smirked, still basking in him trying to cover himself.

"Okay, I'm sorry for being a bitch about that. Look, I truly don't have a problem with you living with us, I'm sorry for acting out. It isn't because you're a girl, I've lived with girls before. Our old roommate's girlfriend used to live with us. I think I'm honestly just a little intimidated by you. Can you blame me? The two people I hang out with the most, really like you and like you've said, you've only lived with us for a month. I feel like they're both getting really close to you, and I'm just getting left out, which I know sounds stupid, I know! I also know I haven't been the most welcoming to you, but I truly have been busy filming and editing. It wasn't like, oh let me be a dick to the new roommate! That was never my intention, and I'm sorry if I came across like that. I'm honestly just tired from work, which I also know isn't a good excuse for my actions"

It felt like Colby was staring into my soul as he talked, his blue eyes keeping hold of my green ones, causing my heart to race.

I knew he was telling the truth, with how desperately he was trying to keep eye contact, which warmed my heart. If there was anything that pissed me off more, it was liars. But especially pathological liars.

I was still unsure of his intentions, and I felt like he was just as unsure of mine, even if he was full heartedly telling the truth.

 "I forgive you; do you still find me sketchy?" I asked, turning my iPad back on

"I mean, after watching you be with your family, not as much but you're still weird" His smirk turning into a full shit eating grin.

"What!? How am I weird!" I yelled, holding back a laugh.

"You do weird shit!" He declared, and my jaw dropped

"How!?" I was beyond flabbergasted

Me? Weird? Never!

I tried so hard to keep a straight face, but it only turned into full belly laughter making Colby's face fill with confusion as he replied "We literally never see you. Kat sees you the most and she doesn't even live with us!" He exclaimed, passion filling his died down laughter. His eyes still creased a little bit.

"Well, I didn't know being your roommate meant movie night was mandatory!" I spoke loudly, but not shouting back, a smile prominent on my face, feeling playful

'Well, it is!" He shot back, grinning yet again at me.

I couldn't help but want to savor this playful encounter, especially since it was so drastic to how I was treated before, Colby coming across as a whole new person in the past 10 minutes. It felt like I watched him change right in front of my eyes. Like I blinked and a whole new person was here.

"I'll try and hang out more. I'm really busy right now though. I know this sounds kind of bitchy but like, figure out with Sam when you want to hang, and I'll try and make it work. I have family stuff to deal with, plus I have a job now that I need to focus on, so I'm not just free tomorrow at 5pm because you guys are bored" I explained and Colby nodded, showing he understood.

Colby and I sat in silence for a little bit, myself focused back on my drawing. 

When I looked up at him after finishing my sketch, I found him staring at me.

"What?" I asked, confused why his eyes were locked on me.

"Nothing. It's just fun watching people do things they love. How long have you done art?" He pondered aloud causing me to smile softly

"Since I was in diapers. My dad still has stuff in a folder I colored when I was a baby" I chuckled, fond memories popping up in my head like a movie of my dad and I doing art together.

Colby asked me art questions whilst I started the coloring process of my character, and I found it touching how intrigued he seemed to be. No one ever really cared to ask me questions considering the only one who I did art with was my dad, and I learned from him, no one else took interest in our shared hobby. It was kind of fun to explain why I was using certain colors or why I was shading my character's face the way I was. I always was amazed at the way my dad used colors, and I desperately wanted him to teach me his secret, but he always told me it was all in the eye. Which translated that I was basically a loss cause, but I still tried.

"Do you only do cartoons?" He asked and I shook my head, setting my apple pencil down. "I love doing hyperrealist stuff, I actually very rarely draw cartoons" I let out a breathy laugh, glancing down towards my work. I suddenly felt extremely insecure of my work, now seeing how intently he had been watching me. Cartoons weren't my strong suit, and the idea of him thinking this was the best I had, felt like a slap in the face, even if he was impressed.

"Can I see some?" he asked, and I nodded, pulling out a desk draw and grabbing my purple folder with the label "Leigh's baby drawings" on it, and handing them over to him.

"I drew family and friends' photos from when they were a baby. The most recent is on the top, that's my little sister" I showed him an extremely realistic black and white portrait of Lexi lying flat on top of the stack.

I was a lot more confident in my realism drawings, but it was still scary showing off something to someone that you spent hours working on. What if they didn't like it?

I focused back on my drawing, starting to get bored of redrawing the same stroke ten times. Shading the hair sucked. At least that was my personal opinion. I always loved doing the clothes on my artwork. I always preferred doing the hair highlights over the shadows, whereas my dad preferred doing shadows because he loved how with one darker line the previous colors could just pop, and make the whole artwork look brand new.

"These are really good Leighton! I have a strange question" he said, making my ears perk up.

He complimented me?

"Okay?" I spoke hesitantly

"Would you want to draw Sam and I? For our house?" He asked and I glanced towards the door and back to him, feeling slightly confused.

Me? Draw him? Why?

"Like, to hang up?" I asked and Colby nodded.

"I think it would be really cool!" He spoke with a reassuring grin on his face.

I narrowed my eyes a little, feeling suspicious of the grin he was wearing. Was he trying to be polite? Convincing? Or did he have something up his sleeve that was going to make my life hell?

I asked Colby what he wanted me to do, and I couldn't help but laugh when he said he didn't know. Which if I was being honest, really eased my nerves on what his intentions were of asking such a daunting task.

"So, you had this grand idea, but no planning?" I asked and I swear I saw him blush slightly.

"It just came to me!" He defended himself and I chuckled, biting my bottom lip as I nodded. He pulled out his phone, focusing his attention elsewhere so I picked up my apple pencil again, finishing up my artwork. It was silent for a moment before Colby's voice bounced off the four walls, startling me slightly since I had gotten lost in my almost completed artwork. "I asked people on my Instagram Story what their favorite photos of Sam and I are, and hopefully we can pick from those," he grinned, setting his phone down. I nodded and turned my iPad around, showing him my finished project. "That looks so good Leighton!" He praised, and I felt my ears heat up before it spread to my cheeks.

"Thank you" I smiled shyly, turning the iPad off and putting it on its charger. I put the purple folder back in the drawer now that Colby was done looking for it. I stood up from my chair and pulled my hair up into a messy high ponytail which showed off a tattoo behind my ear. "Are you going to be transfixed on every tattoo I show?" I smirked, chuckling a little at how his eyes were scanning over the small inkwork behind my ear and down the side of my neck.

"I swear every time you do anything, there is something new to learn! I didn't know you had so many tattoos!" He said, his eyes scanning from my neck tattoo down to my arm where the sleeve was peeking out from my oversized t-shirt 

"I have loads" I giggled, opening the door and leaving him behind as I walked downstairs. I could hear big booms from whatever movie they were watching, the sound blaring from my dad's precious sound system. I plopped down next to Aaliyah and Logan, slightly confused why Logan was still here. Colby joined us pretty quickly, taking a seat on the floor next to Sam. I tried to stay awake for the rest of the movie, but when I woke up, I was in an empty dark room with a fuzzy blanket draped over my body. I moaned at how comfy the couch was when I rolled over, wanting to sink back into a deep slumber, and I did just that. When I woke up again, my alarm was blaring throughout the quiet making me grumble "fuck" and sit up, stretching as I grabbed it. I looked at the date and time and a pit formed in my stomach as realization of what was happening today started to hit. When I turned around, I couldn't help but squint at how bright the kitchen light was behind me. I heard some shuffling, so I knew someone was in there.

I walked in the kitchen after I used the bathroom because the second I woke up, I felt like my bladder was going to explode, which honestly was the first time I had felt like that during this pregnancy and I mentally groaned, knowing it was only downhill from here.

I was trying my best to keep notes of things that were happening in my phone, wanting to document them in my pregnancy journal. I walked into the kitchen, typing down this new "symptom" into my notes app when I saw my dad standing at the stove, cooking breakfast and I said a quiet good morning, sitting down at the table. He told me that my mom was getting ready upstairs so we could head out to the hospital. I had work from 12-8 today and my mom went into surgery at 11, so the stress I was feeling was beyond overwhelming.

"Did you plug your phone in?" He asked and I shook my head, thanking him for reminding me, getting up to grab a charger. When I came back I felt my mind spiral at the thought of my mom going under brain surgery and before I knew it, I was sobbing whilst my dad placed eggs in front of me. He didn't say anything to me, but he rubbed comforting circles on my back with the palm of his hand. I wasn't sure how long I sobbed for, but I eventually calmed down and started eating breakfast, knowing we had to leave soon.

I was honestly terrified of losing my mom in this surgery. I couldn't imagine not being able to call her during my pregnancy or having her meet my baby. The idea of her not being here for such an important moment in my life made my chest tighten. I couldn't help but start to self loathe at not having told her sooner. What if she died today? I should've told her sooner! She could've helped me loads!

"Where is everyone?" I asked him, drinking some of the tea he had handed me, wanting to turn off my brain. I smiled when I tasted the ginger, glancing over towards my dad. "How'd you know?" I asked quietly and my dad's back was still turned to me as he replied "Your mother had really bad morning sickness with all you guys. She said this helped the most, along with peppermint oils, but we don't have any of that" I nodded, going back to sipping my tea. I sighed with relief as the nausea went away, the soothing tea filling up my stomach and calming my thoughts.

I smiled at my mom when she entered, getting up to hug her and telling her a good morning.

"Everyone went home but Aaliyah and River, they stole your bed" My dad finally answered, laughing a little and I rolled my eyes.

"Of course, they did!" I snickered back, already planning my attack on them.

I climbed up the stairs, thrashing open my bedroom door and yelling "Morning losers!" Before jumping on them, making them groan.

"Leigh!" Aaliyah shouted and I laughed uncontrollably to where I started coughing from lack of oxygen. "Glad you're laughing at my pain!" She huffed

"Dad made eggs, I gotta go wake the other losers" I pushed off the bed and River groaned.

"Leigh, I have a girlfriend!" River jokingly called out and I was confused until I realized where my hand was placed. I gasped and quickly removed my hand which made me faceplant on the bed.

"I'm sorry!" I yelled, it coming out more muffled as I was laying against my comforter.

"Morning Leighton" River chuckled as I stood up, breathing hard.

"Good morning, dumbass. I'm going to wake up the rainbow child now. Hurry up before the devil spawns steal all of breakfast!" I said, leaving the room and I heard Aaliyah and River laugh.

I opened my brother's door, covering my eyes and yelling "Cover up I don't want to see your dick!" I squeaked, afraid for my life

"Oh my god!" Landon grumbled and I kept my hand over my eyes. "I'm not naked you idiot" He grumbled again, and I removed my hand from my eyes, thanking god he wasn't lying to me.

"Dad made breakfast, get up cause we gotta take mom to the hospital in an hour" I walked out of his room and opened Lexi's door and much to my surprise, she was already up, slipping on a hoodie.

"I like your hair!" I complimented, startling her.

"Morning, it's just braids" She spoke quietly, reaching for Chapstick.

I could tell with how quiet she was that the nerves were eating her up as well. I sighed and helped her get ready, making her bed for her. I hung out with my sister till we had to leave. We all reluctantly climbed into the car, the whole car ride to the hospital was silent.

When we got my mom checked in and met with her doctor, everything started to feel more real.

This morning I could psych myself out into thinking it was just another normal day, but the second the OR nurses came in to prep her for surgery, I felt like I was hit with a giant slap of reality.

This was really happening. We were really doing this again.

I hugged my sister against me as the doctor started explaining the surgery to us. I could hear my sisters' sniffles and felt her teardrops fall onto my hand.

It was now 10:30am and my mother was getting prepped for her surgery, meaning we all had about half an hour to talk to her before she had to go in.

I was starting to get insane flashbacks to the last time we did this, and I could only hope we'd get the same outcome. 

My sister went first, then my brother and by 10:50 it was my turn.

My brother kept the door open for me, then shut it as he left. I took a deep breath.

I sat down next to my mom, and she held her hand out towards me, smiling.

"Hi sunshine" She looked me in the eyes and that's when I lost it. "Oh baby girl, don't cry honey. You're mommy's ray of sunshine. Leighton Rae it'll be okay" She squeezed my hand and I audibly sobbed.

I can't believe I was doing this again.

They said the last time should've been it. That we would be all done, and yet here I was, sobbing in a hospital room whilst my dying mother was consoling me. 

"I love you mom" I cried, a thousand memories filling my head. 

We honestly thought we were in the clear after we passed the 5-year mark, but here life was, slapping us in the face that the rough waters never truly go away. 

I pulled out my phone and I took a photo of me and my mom holding hands and I turned my video recorder on, wanting to remember her voice. It was all these just in case moments that were truly making me lose my mind. "You have to come back to me, mom. I can't lose my mom. My baby needs their grandmother" I cried, and my mom smiled and held out her pinky, interlocking it with my own. I video recorded her kissing my pinky finger as the tears rolled down my face.

"I promise baby" She smiled, and I could tell she was hurting. I just couldn't tell if she was hurting more psychically, mentally or emotionally and that killed me.

"I love you mom" I repeated, still recording and I saw a tear fall down her own face. My chest tightened at the idea of how scared she must be.

"I love you too Leigh, you're my perfect daughter and I can't wait to meet my little grandbaby. You're going to have to calm down Leigh. We want that baby happy and healthy so when I kick cancers butt, I can hold my perfect precious grandbaby"

I stopped recording and I took a selfie with my mom, adding it to my folder of memories with her.

"Baby you're acting like I'm going to disappear in front of you. I've done this surgery before, I will be okay sunshine" she smiled at her fingers, and I glanced down, trying to see through my blurred vision. "I always have you kids with me and you'll always have me with you" she said, and she placed my fingers over the tattoos on the side of her ring finger. 

On Mother's Day when Lexi and Landon were toddlers, my mom got in small ink an infinity sign, moon crescents and a sun on the inside of her ring finger, and when Logan and I were old enough, we all got the same thing, except our tattoos filled in which one we were in the lineup. When I got married, I wanted to get a heart in front of the infinity sign, so I left space to do that.

"I understand you're the one going into brain surgery, and I don't have the right to be scared but I'm scared of losing you mom. If I'm being totally honest, my feelings this time around are so different than last time. Like not only are my hormones all out of whack, but I want my baby to meet you mom. I want them to grow up with their grandmother" I cried softly, my hand rested against my belly, and I felt my eyes widen.

A bump

I had a bump!

I felt my excitement get destroyed when I thought about it just being bloating again and I heard my mom ask what was wrong. I lifted my shirt and turned a little, trying to see if she could notice a bump too.

I couldn't believe I didn't check when I used the bathroom this morning like I always did!

"Do I have a bump?" I asked her and I heard the door open and my dad asking what we were doing. "Is there a bump?" I asked him, turning to show him.

"I think there is a tiny one" My mom said, and the excitement started to grow again.

"I'm scared it's just bloating! But what if it isn't? Google said the bump pops at 12 to 14 weeks! I'm only on week 9!" I spoke quickly, panicking at how I should feel.

"Leigh you can't listen to google about how your pregnancy should be. Each of mine were different. Logan, I didn't show till almost 20 weeks. I had a really small bump with him. With you, I woke up one morning at like 15 weeks, and the bump was just there, and it wasn't tiny, but you were a big ass baby so" She grinned, and I glared at her.

God what if my baby was huge?

My vagina would never recover.

"It was all a lost cause with the twins though, I showed right away. I was showing before I even knew I was pregnant. Those children wrecked my body" She grumbled then smiled and I could tell she was fondly reminiscing which made me smile. 

"Is my baby going to wreck my body?" I asked quietly, forgetting my dad was here.

"Honestly? Your body will never be the same. Your hips will be wider, you never completely lose the baby fat, no matter how many stupid LA diets there are. My boobs never went back to their pre-baby size. I don't know if that's common or not" She shrugged, and I glanced towards my dad who was sitting in a chair on his phone.

"Only the twins were a c-section, right?" I asked and she nodded.

My mom and I got into the topic of vaginal birth versus a cesarean birth and the things they do to your body.

The second she said stitches on my vagina I almost fainted.

Why the fuck did I get knocked up?

My mom mentioned how having a midwife for the twins was useful, and before we could get into the topic of conversation, the nurses came in to bring her to the OR. I made a mental note to check out what midwives were when I got home from work.

My siblings and I kissed my mom's cheek and wished her good luck before I had to head off to work.

I was trying insanely hard to detach my work life from my personal life today since I needed the money really badly and when I was on my last hour of my shift, my mind kept thinking about how my mom's surgery went. On lunch break I got a text that she was going to be moved to recovery soon, so I couldn't wait to get back.

I smiled when I recognized some familiar faces coming into my checkout line.

"Hey losers!" I grinned, Sam and Colby placing all sorts of weird stuff on the conveyor belt.

"Look at our working girl!" Sam praised and I laughed, grabbing the first item.

"Bathroom spray? This better be for your bathroom!" I raised an eyebrow, scanning the item.

Sam held back a laugh while Colby's cheeks reddened. "Just keep scanning" He muttered, and I giggled, placing it in the bag.

"Now I know I don't need these, and you guys don't have a uterus, so why do you have tampons?" I asked, holding up a yellow and blue box of Tampax .

I finally looked at the rest of the items and narrowed my eyes.

"Condoms? Alcohol? Okay I'm not coming home tonight" I said, scanning the items.

"The condoms are Colby's-" Sam spoke quickly and Colby smacked his arm as I raised an eyebrow, recalling our conversation from the night before. "Bathroom spray and condoms Colby?" I asked, placing the adult item into the bag with the bathroom spray.

"Katrina needed tampons, I matched the picture she sent me to the box" Sam informed me and I smiled at him, nodding. 

"Well, I figured one of you guys' female friends needed them. It's nice to see you guys buying them. It's nice to know some guys aren't grossed out by it" I placed the item in the bag, and I grabbed a box, turned it around and saw what it was. "MiraLax pills? This explains the bathroom spray" I muttered, and Colby groaned.

"I told you we should've gone to self-checkout!" Colby grumbled to Sam who I could tell was trying so hard not to laugh.

"I wanted to see Leighton! I haven't talked to her since before she passed out on the couch!" He exclaimed and Colby shook his head, crossing his arms.

I grabbed a bottle, and the apple of my cheeks were burning from trying so hard not to laugh.

"Erectile Dysfunction pills?" I asked Colby and I've never seen him turn so fast.

"SAMUAL!" He shouted, causing people's heads to turn as Sam belly laughed. "THOSE AREN'T MINE!" Colby yelled as I scanned the item.

"What the fuck! Remove that from my checkout list! What the hell Sam!?" He said, pointing to the computer behind me before turning to face Sam again and Sam was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I slipped those in when Colby was grabbing condoms" Sam laughed and Colby rolled his eyes.

I removed the item and set it behind me. The rest of their basket was just drinks and food.

Thank God

"Well Colby, don't knock anyone up. I got to deal with enough babies in our house as it is" I said, and Sam's eyes widened. "What? Colby's a whiner" I muttered, and Colby glared at me.

"No Leighton, it's pronounced wiener" Sam said and I bit my bottom lip, trying to hold back a laugh as Colby glared at us.

"I'm never buying condoms with you two ever again" Colby grumbled and I laughed, biting my tongue as it stuck out a little bit.

Colby inserted his card, and typed in his pin, signing his signature and then took the receipt. He was silent the entire time, making me side glance at Sam who was also looking at Colby.

Did we upset him?

~

"Lexi shut up" I grumbled, shoving her off of me.

"You're being mean!" She whined and I rolled my eyes and Landon snickered.

"I don't give a flying monkey about your candy crush score" I rolled my eyes, opening up my text messages.

The group chat for Sam, Colby, Jake and I was going bananas, Aaliyah texted me a couple more times and so I replied to hers first. She told me to tell her how my mom was and let me know when we wanted to meet up.

I scrolled down and saw Gabe texted me asking what time the appointment was, making me roll my eyes.

You can only tell someone so many times

I opened the group chat and scanned the chat, feeling very confused.

Sam: Dude shut the fuck up some of us are trying to sleep

Jake: Yeah Colby!

Sam: I can't believe him

Jake: Believe what?

Sam: That he would do this! 

Jake: ???

Sam: Can she moan louder? God! I have to get up in a couple hours to go to Katrina's!

Jake: Maybe we should leave?

Sam: To where? Sam: I think she's the loudest one he's ever brought home

Jake: Just glad Leigh's gone. Jake: We could go to the hospital and hang with Leigh?

Sam: Why? Sam: Also why is Leighton at the hospital? Sam: When we bought condoms earlier, I didn't think they were going to be used the first hour we got home. 

I left the chat before Jake's text bubbles would go away, not needing to read more. I opened up my ex's and told him the time before turning off my phone. 

Why were they texting about Colby's sex life in our group chat? I hear enough as it is, I don't need to know more when I'm not at home. 

"Do you think she'll wake up soon?" Landon asked and I sighed, wishing my dad was back from the bathroom now.

"I hope so bud. That's the best I can do for you" 

While we were waiting for my mom to wake up, Lexi somehow got me to play candy crush with her and I have never felt happier to see the weirdo that is my best friend.

"Sup losers!" Aaliyah called out after opening the door.

I sprung up, shoving my sister off of me and wrapping my arms around her.

"You came!" I pulled away and Aaliyah smiled, nodding.

"Trust me Leigh, this is more for me than you. I much rather be here with your badass mom" Aaliyah smirked, sitting down next to my dad.

We were all sitting around talking, when the doctor and a nurse came in to check on my mom.

My hands rested on my stomach as I watched them check on the machines that I had no idea how to read.

All I really cared about was the lifeline. As long as that was still kicking, the rest of it didn't matter to me. I kind of tuned out the doctor, watching my mom's heart rate.

When the doctor left, leaving us to play the waiting game again, Aaliyah came and sat down next to me. "How are you doing?" She asked and I shrugged.

"I'm doing alright. Just really nervous. Thank you for coming. I'm sorry about what I said at the store" I told her sincerely and she nodded.

"I know you didn't mean it. Can we put this past us? I miss our late night Hells Kitchen slumber parties" She grinned and I laughed, nodding.

~

We were all kind of minding our own business whilst we waited for her to wake up, Aaliyah had brought Uno, which was one of Lexi and I's favorite games to play. I was touched at her sweet gesture, watching her set up the game.

Whilst we were really into our game of Uno, machines next to us started blaring in our ears making us all jump. Having no idea what was happening, and my emotions getting the best of me as I feared the worst, tears streamed down my face as my heart started racing.

Aaliyah pulled me into her chest and led me out of the room so the doctors could fix whatever was happening to my mother.

"She can't die on me Aaliyah! I can't lose her!" I sobbed, my voice cracking as my body shook.

I honestly lost all concept of time whilst trapped in these four white walls, that when I had stopped crying and saw it was now 1am, and finally could feel how exhausted my body was, I knew I needed to rest to not my hurt my baby, which only made me cry even more at the idea of me messing up my unborn child all because I was selfish and distracted.

"Leigh, you have to stop crying sweetie. This much stress on your body is horrible for the baby. Go home honey, we will be okay without you. I swear we will call you if something happens. Protect this family's legacy" My dad spoke with soft features, sympathy dripping off every word he spoke.

After about 10 minutes of everyone trying to force me home, I finally caved and drove home with Aaliyah.

When we walked into the household, I could hear some chick laughing in the kitchen as Colby spoke, making me groan.

Great.

Can't wait to stumble upon whatever the hell is happening in there.

Aaliyah led me to the stairs and I couldn't help but pick at the sleeves of my hoodie when I heard Colby say "I think we're energized for another round" followed by a squeal.

I was in for a long dreadful night, and it was moments like these where I wished everything would change.

* * * * 

Written on: December 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th 2022

Word Count: 6.3k

Part thirteen

[dc-said-bi-robin-rights]

Tips for people writing Damian angst:

-Have Damian’s hand linger near his utility belt (if in Robin costume, as he can reach for a batarang)/a hidden knife (if not in Robin costume) when taken off guard. Makes reader reflect on the fact that a child’s instinctual response to being taken on the back foot is to keep his hand near a weapon.

-Make Damian’s instinctual response to situations where he is not fully lucid to get himself on his feet and armed. Don’t make him be like other people, his instinctual reaction will never be to call out for Bruce to save him while on the floor. Drive in that no matter how much time passes he will never lose the instinct to be combat-ready when faced with a situation he does not understand.

-Make Damian unconsciously seek out a seat with its back to a wall. I grew up in a household with no sense of privacy so I developed this instinct so people couldn’t peer over my shoulder at whatever I was doing without me knowing. In an environment like the League of Assassins, this is a very realistic habit to develop, though for very different reasons to mine.

-Make Damian subtly uncomfortable when sitting still while surrounded on all sides by strangers. Especially if unarmed. If he can’t keep everyone within view, have him fidget and shift around on his chair. Maybe bounce his leg.

-If you want any part of your fic to be set inside the League, or if you want occasional flashbacks, temper yourself. Be careful about how you present his life in the League. Many fic writers have Ra’s doing things like whipping him for minor infractions to try to drive in angst. You can do this if you want, but I’d advise against it.

Abuse isn’t like that. Abusers aren’t bad all the time, and that’s the problem. If they were, I’d be easier to hate them.

Don’t make Ra’s cartoonishly evil. Make him warm, from time to time. Make him pat Damian on the shoulder after he accomplishes a task, make him smile and praise him after he defeats an enemy. Make Ra’s call him grandson, make Damian love him. Make Damian desperate for his praise. Maybe make him comfort Damian when he’s crying..but don’t make him stop ordering the things Damian is crying about. Make Ra’s comforting be “I’m sorry this is necessary” rather than “I’m sorry”. He’s not sorry, he’s sorry that these regimes are “necessary”. Make it toxic. Make Damian be genuinely comforted by Ra’s words and truly believe his training is necessary. Make Damian take a fucked up pride about being trained so harshly. This is important. MAKE DAMIAN PROUD OF BEING ABUSED. Make him believe it means he’s special. Make it fucked up. As for Ra’s, make it so that Ra’s genuinely believes that he is being kind. Make it so that Ra’s pats himself on the back about this.

Believe me, nothing will make your readers want to scream at the screen more than this.

Make Ra’s good moods good and his bad moods terrible. Don’t make him be cartoonishly evil. As I said before, put scenes with Ra’s being kind.

And then contrast that with horrible training regimes. Make it seem normal. Sneak it in there, almost, so that readers have to stop and say “wait, what the fuck” at something so horrible being kept so on the down-low. Don’t make it a big deal if you’re writing from Damian’s perspective, because Damian doesn’t think it’s a big deal. Make Damian’s POV mention statements like “when he was sent to kill that leopard..” or “climbing the peaks near Nanda Parbat taught him that...”. Give the reader whiplash by mentioning these events as background for both positive and negative things.

Also, drive in Damian’s helplessness. For example, make him think about how one of his tutors had sneaked him this specific candy and have him ruefully recall about how he would have liked to “keep that one”. Make the implication clear with what happened to the tutor, but don’t have Damian think on it too much. He’s used to it. Drive in how he shouldn’t be used to these things but he IS and nothing will ever change that.

-Don’t have it be resolved with a hug and an “I love you”. That’s not how trauma works. Trauma can’t just “go away”. It will never just go away. Have him reassured by affirmations of love and care, obviously, but don’t go with the mindset it can erase the past. That’s deleting Damian and replacing him with another version. Damian can get past his trauma but he can never erase it. Scars don’t fade.

-Get rid of the “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” mindset. Trauma does not make you stronger, it makes you harder, it gives you edges. Getting OVER your trauma makes you stronger, and that’s something YOU did, not the trauma. Be extremely careful you don’t imply Damian’s abuse was a good thing unless it’s phrased as something Damian believes but is wrong about.

-Don’t have Damian not cry. Instead, have Damian’s crying be completely silent. Make it traceless. For added angst, make it so his family have absolutely no idea he’s crying. Let them pass his room with their happy thoughts, have Dick pause on the doorway and contemplate if Damian would be up to playing in the yard.

-Let Damian be weak sometimes. Let there be moments where all the walls fall and Damian breaks down. Like the time he met Goliath, for example. Let Damian be unable to process something. Let him curl up into himself when there’s no one there to judge him for it.

-Let Damian’s perceptions of reality be incorrect. Let them not line up with what is actually happening. Let his experiences color his view like colored lenses. Maybe have a chapter from another character’s point of view that is more tense and hostile in Damian’s POV. Have the same situation be seen differently by another character. For example, have Dick’s recollection of an event and Damian’s recollection of an event be vastly different.

[merrilldidnothingwrong]

Not to mention Inquisition was such a massive tonal shift from the previous two games as well. It's enough to give you whiplash. Baldur's Gate 3 seems to have the darker elements that Inquisition lacked and it felt more like what a Dragon Age game should be. Kudos to the folks at Larian!

Right? Origins and 2: chantry and templars are shitty factions that are shown to be oppressive and abusive, to mages and elves, but also how the chantry controls lyruim to templars to keep them in check, and the dwarves by mining and selling it, how sten was at the mercy at the one chantry mother's, he would have been left to die in a locked cage (but in general the chantry's racism makes sure that all non human races are oppressed throughout the day) and here's inquisition where..... Chantry and templars are heroes...HUH???? My only explanation is that it's from a humans POV since it's being told in the "heart" of the political thedas. Since it starts with the right and left and right hand of the divine.

But, still, the worst in the series for sure.

I hate that they out the only canon gay companions in it :/ how great it would have been to have characters like dorian and sera in da2 :/

Eta oops sorry not feeling well and got distracted YEAH I got my hopes up for larian and bg3!! I really hope they do grey morality or just good and bad better, and from what I've seen so far, especially regarding the goblins and how to deal with them they have! And other ways to deal with things.

[angelicmichael]

Imminent Annihilation Sounds so Dope, chapter one.

Michael Langdon x reader

Summary: Readers POV. Reader wakes up in a unfamiliar place in a unfamiliar body. She’s finally getting to chance to meet her soulmate, but who could it be?

Words: 2.2k+

A/N: here is another chapter that I’m reuploading of imminient annihlation!! I absolutely love writing this story so please let me know if y’all are enjoying reading it ♥️ please reblog or like this if you enjoyed!

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You woke up, and for the first time in a long while, you actually felt well rested. Typically even after a full nights sleep, you woke up still feeling groggy and tired from all the stress from constantly having to practice witchcraft. But today, you felt different. It was a good different though.Even though this shift in energy was strange, you definitely didn’t mind it.

You instinctively reached for your phone, since this is what you typically did first thing every morning. But It wasn’t there.

You huffed in annoyance and assumed that maybe your phone got tangled in your sheets or fell off your bed?

You opened your eyes and sat up - mentally preparing to get out of bed and start shaking your sheets out when your stomach dropped.

You weren’t in your bed anymore. You certainly weren’t in Robichaux’s or anyone else’s house that you knew. I mean, you definitely were still in a bed but it wasn’t your bed.

You were in a small room of what it looked like to be of a hotel. The pure white clean sheets, white fluffy pillows, the whole neatness and semi organized fashion in which the room was set up in screamed hotel. There also was a small worn backpack that was in the corner of the room, that had clothes littered around it. The room also had various belongings, that definitely could be considered eccentric, to put it nicely.

White candles were littered all throughout the tabletop surfaces in the room. Mostly on the nightstand and on the tables. Most of them looked like they had already been burned.

It certainly did not take long either to notice a decent size upside down black cross hanging on the wall directly across from the bed.

You immeaditly felt a rush of Nausea. You had tried to stand up, but after feeling like you might have a panic attack - you sat back down on the bed to attempt to ground yourself. Then you jolted immeaditly off of the bed and bolted to a small trash can that was near one of the tables. You threw up until you physically couldn’t anymore, your throat sore and tears streaming down your face.

Even though the change of scenery was confusing, You knew what was happening. It was finally happening, you were finally going to be able to meet your soulmate! But something felt off, and very wrong in your gut and you couldn’t shake off that feeling. Not to mention all of the strange decor in the room was making you increasingly uneasy and on edge.

In this society, everyone had a soulmate. Someone who was their other half, someone who they were meant to be with forever. On the twentieth birthday of whoever happened to turn twenty first, the people who were soulmates of eachother switched bodies for twenty four hours. Which meant your soulmate was currently residing in your body. You couldn’t help but laugh and wonder how your sisters were currently dealing with your soulmate.

It obviously wasn’t your birthday, you would know if you were turning twenty. That would mean it was their birthday. You currently sat slumped next to the trash can as you thought about this. You would think that if they knew they were turning twenty, they would atleast try to make the room look presentable? At least remove a couple candles?

Finally getting a chance to breath after being sick, you noticed a dark red pentagram on the ground next to the bed that you hadn’t seem before. It was fucking huge, you couldn’t help but wonder how you had missed it before. It was dark red, could it be.. blood? No fucking way. You tried desperately to think of another explanation, maybe it was red food dye that was meant to look like blood?

Tears were in your eyes. Who the hell was this person that you were now inevitably tied to for the rest of your life? Out of terror and instinct, you leaped up back to your feet and started to back away from the pentagram and into a corner of the hotel room. The same corner where the worn backpack was.

You tried to take deep breaths to calm yourself down and it temporarily worked. You slowly opened your eyes, and as you slowly looked up, you realized at the very far side of the room was a large mirror, next to what you assumed was the bathroom.

It didn’t register in your mind at first that who you were staring at in the mirror, was actually you. Curly brass colored hair that fell just below the ears, and piercing icy blue eyes were the features that you first noticed. It didn’t take long to notice that the body you were inhabiting was a male. A shirtless male actually. The fact that he was shirtless made you smirk. Atleast he had a nice body, even if his hobbies and interests were questionable.

After admiring your temporary body in the mirror for longer than you would like to admit, you finally decided that you should attempt to find a phone or some kind of personal belongings, so that you could actually learn about this guy.

On the nightstand there was a small black phone. Bingo! You quickly snatched it up and it seemed miraculously unlock on its own. Thank god for face recognition.

The phone immeaditly went to the home page, and you couldn’t help but frown. The home page was black, no customization or anything hinted toward any kind of personalization.

You couldn’t shake the thought of how weird it was. The feeling of uneasiness started to creep in but you shook it off. There had to be a explanation because he certainly wasn’t boring. It was clear he was doing some kind of ritual in this room, and with the looks of things, it looked like he was practicing dark magic.

You defintly felt a dark energy in the room. It hung over the space like smog, making the air thick and leaving you feeling queasy. You wish you could get out of this damn room, but, you felt it was best not too. Atleast not yet.

You brought your attention back to the phone and opened the photos, although this time you weren’t too surprised at the results.

No photos.

Sigh. You couldn’t help but think that maybe this guy really was boring, maybe he’s just some weirdo who practices dark magic and has no personality maybe?

You shook your head and kept looking. In his text messages, there was no names or contacts saved, so all of his conversations were just miscellaneous numbers. Your finger was hovering over one of the conversations when, you realized how wrong this felt.

You know you would hate if he were to go through your phone. You couldn’t help but feel bitter as you pictured him doing so. The bastard better not be doing that, you would kick his ass in the future if you found out he did.

...but wait. He had a phone. You had a phone. You had memorized your phone number... you were a fucking genius.

You reopened the text messaging app and quickly clicked the option that allowed you to message another number. You typed your phone number as fast as the speed of light and then.. froze.

What would you even say to this guy? ‘Hey how’s it going’? You think you were defintly past the point of small talk. Even if you never formally met this person, being switched in someone’s body was a whole new level of intimacy.

Before you knew it, you typed out a text and basically closed your eyes as you sent it.

‘What’s your name’?

You threw the phone on the bed and walked away out of sheer embarrassment. What if he even didn’t reply? He should be able too, since your phone has face recognition as well so it’s not like a password would be blocking him from doing so.

You heard a ‘ping!’ And you basically gave yourself whiplash with how fast you had moved to the phone.

‘Who is this?’

You blinked silently. How would you even respond to this? Straight up admitting you were his soulmate felt a little heavy, even if it was true.

‘I’m the person you switched with last night. I’m sorry for using your phone but I had to talk to you’.

You replied embarrassingly fast, but he was also replying pretty fast so.. it didn’t feel too weird.

This time you held the phone in a death grip, staring at the conversation, and waiting for a reply.

‘I don’t have time for this’

Your heart sank and the feeling of nausea started to creep back into you. How could he already reject you so soon? Did your sisters say something? Or was he a witch hunter? Surely by being in Robichaux’s he probably knew by now that you were a witch. Your thoughts started to race a million miles per minuete.

‘Did something happen’?

You sent the message and set the phone back down on the nightstand, making sure to set the ringtone to silent this time.

You wandered toward the window, which was covered by thick white curtains. Blinding sunlight instantly spilled through as soon as you pushed the curtains back, and you relished in it.

Back at Robichaux’s, you had been kept in the dark for the past week basically. Too busy trying to learn spells and work on your powers to go outside and soak up the sun.

Basking in the sunlight, you noticed that you were atleast a hundred feet above the ground. The view was absolutely spectacular, and overlooked the ocean. You were pretty sure this was a fucking penthouse. How exactly rich was this dude?

It didn’t really matter anyway, since he already rejected you before you could even have the chance to properly meet him. But you weren’t the kind to give up so easily, espically when it was your god damn soulmate. Your literal other half. The person you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life.

You decided to go back and check his phone and there was actually a reply back. You smiled, giddy that maybe, perhaps he decided to give you a chance.

‘This is the last time you are going to hear from me, so I’m going to be crystal clear. It is vital that you stay inside, and don’t go anywhere. Got it’?

You sneered. How could he be so controlling? You contemplated writing back a witty reply but you figured that wouldn’t do any good. You should atleast attempt to stay on his good side.

‘Can you atleast tell me why’?

You nervsouly chewed your nails.

‘No’

You rolled your eyes and threw the phone on the bed so hard, it bounced. Even though as much as you wanted to get out of this damn room away from this heavy energy, you had to remind yourself that there had to be a good reason for him not wanting you to leave. You don’t even know where you would go anyway if you were to leave.

You decided to send one last text.

‘Okay, fine’

You now sat on the bed, defeated, shaking and your eyes filling with tears. You were always yearning and dreaming about how it would be like to meet your soulmate. How great it would feel and how happy you would be. You heard all of the stories from your fellow witches.

You saw nearly daily at Robichaux’s how happy Cordelia and Misty were, since they were soulmates, and you wanted something like that so bad for yourself.

But, sitting here, in this guys hotel room, you felt basically everything execpt for what you had expected. You felt scared, confused, rejected, controlled, and sad.

Who the hell was this guy?

Tears were now fully streaming down your cheeks, as you now fully embraced every emotion that you were feeling.

That’s when you noticed a thin, gray Apple laptop on top of one of the tables.

‘Fuck privacy’

You muttered and went and snatched up his laptop. You smirked as you opened it.

‘What a idiot’

You said laughing with glee as you wiped your tears away. He never shut his laptop off so, you had access to everything. There was no password to be unlocked.

There was currently one tab open, which was google chrome. It was his emails. Interesting. The first thing you focused on was who the email was from. The cooperative? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

You thought it was nearly impossible to be even more confused than you already were, but, here you were.

You quickly opened another tab and did a quick google search of the cooperative.

Nothing. Nothing that seemed helpful anyway. The search results only showed definitions of cooperative, and other nonsense that wasn’t helpful. You opened the tab that contained the email back open, and started to actually read the email.

‘Micheal Langdon,’

That was who the email was addressed to. Micheal Langdon... Wait...

You froze. Your heart stopped, you stopped breathing and your sure for a solid minuete you probably stopped blinking as well.

Micheal Langdon? That meant... your soulmate was none other than the actual antichrist. God fucking damnit.

[n-ugg]

I didn't expect to get tagged but here we are. As you all will be able to tell in a bit, I am a massive Quackity fan

Thank you for tagging me @skeetlehands!

who is your favourite member on the smp?

Look, I love them all but these have a special place in my heart.

Quackity, Slimecicle (I am fully aware he just joined but I still love him), Schlatt, Tubbo, Eret, AweSamdude, and Ponk.

They're just great in and out of character and just have comforting vibes.

when did you first start watching the smp and what made you get into it?

I gotten in during the Pogtopia era since it took me a while to get access to the streams.

I mainly gotten in with the Sad-ist War animatics along with me trying to catch up on Quackity's VODS. Just someone that I was already familiar with being an easier shift into story and learning others through him

what is your favourite part about watching the smp?

Just watching everyone interact with other and just seeing the plot progress in real time. Its literally just dnd but with extra steps but I enjoy it so much

The improv that they all do is amazing and how everyone have different approaches to their characters makes my writer's side so happy with dissecting everything.

What piece of cursed lore is your favourite

That Wilbur canonically fucked a fish and Philza canonically fucked a Samasung fridge and just seeing the fanbase try to change into something that will at least make a bit more sense.

Im included in this, I basically joined the side that has Sally being a mermaid shapeshifting pirate. Mainly because of pirate Fundy

Who is your favorite duo on the smp

Slimecicle and Ranboo: They're the same person but in different fonts, you can convince me otherwise

Schlatt and Quackity: They managed to be super funny together with all of the jokes and balanced with making a very realistic abusive relationship work. It was always fun seeing them flirt with each other for a joke then get hit with whiplash when canon comes in to remind me that this isnt healthy

Tubbo and Tommy: They're two dumbasses who share the same braincell but then they constantly lose it and Tubbo mainly has custody of it

Wilbur and Schlatt: I just enjoy seeing Schlatt messing with Wilbur and occasionally flirts with him to get Wilbur more pissed off

Who are your comfort streamers

Quackity and Slimecicle are comfort streamers

Eret, Fundy, and AweSamdude are my comfort people (meaning I dont watch them as much but I find comfort in their presence. And the other two are also under this category)

Who is your favorite character

Quackity due to how complex his character is and yet how it looks so simple

Schlatt because is just a villian who knows how to play the game without getting caught

Tubbo, watching him trying to be hopeful with everything destroy around him and he just slowly become used to everything going wrong

AweSamdude because he is just trying his best to be a father figure others and I just got family issues

Who do you think the best actor(s) on the smp

Imma skip over the ones that we all already said and get into the ones that dont get enough praise

Quackity: Just how he managed to make his character seem so basic but in reality its really complex. And just seeing the shift from him being a chaotic force of nature to being a serious character that is trying his best to reach something that has been hanging over his head is just *chefs kiss* and he always delivers amazing lines on the spot.

BadBoyHalo: He is doing great right now, even though he is a bit rusty with starting he still manages to get into character and stay in character the entire time. When slowly easing in, you can tell its a bit forced but once he finds his footing, he knows how to deliver his lines.

AweSamdude: His entire bit where he was getting rescued from the egg fucking hurt. How he sounded weak from the entire thing and tired to where he just wanted to rest was so well. And I know he can act more energetic when he was accidentally dragged into playing a cop during Quackity's and Bad's date

Fundy: You guys need to give him more praise for his acting because he is fucking amazing at it. The little touches to how he voice when speaks is so good along with his body language in game. He knows what he's fucking doing and I love him for that. And when he snapped, it made complete sense if you payed attention to his character

I didnt add Ranboo because he's automatically at the top section due to him being a dnd player. Same goes to Slimecicle even though he hasnt acted yet. I dont make the rules. You play dnd, you know how to act

What are your favorite quotes

I dont have favorite quotes, just dialog heavy scenes.

Before Doomsday, Quackity going to take his horse far away from L'Manberg, it being the one thing he cares about. It was just so good

The entire Schlatt and Quackity argument in front of the white house

The meeting between Schlatt and Quackity with Schlatt yelling out to him in a taunting way to where Tommy and Quackity are trying to figure out what happened to the tnt. I constantly rewatch it to feel the adrinaline pumping to feel something

Wilbur's slow descend into insanity and talking to Tommy. Just showing his paranoia and fears consuming him, him projecting his fears into Tommy as an attempt of manipulation, and his hero complex shift into villian one

Schlatt's winning speech of him projecting it as something that was bound to happen no matter what. The amount of charisma and confidence that was in his voice as I was watching Tommy hiding underground in fear was just a perfect scene

Tommy's argument with Dream when everyone is protecting Tommy. Its the small details of Tommy taunting Dream to kill him, knowing he wont no matter what. Him telling everyone to protect Tubbo and everyone listening without hesitation.

The debate that Quackity and Dream had for like 11 or 14 minutes. All of that was completely unprompted unscripted, it was just so satisfying seeing someone stand up against Dream for the first time and actually beating him. Sure it was in a verble conflict but it still counts as a defeat

Be honest, who do you simp for? (Ayo if anyone says Tommy or Tubbo I will🗡)

Schlatt, Quackity, and Slimecicle

Its pretty obvious, I dont really try to hide it

Whats your favorite stream

Uhhhh I dont exactly have one so none I guess

Whats your least favorite streams

Im sorry, but all of the Jackbox stream. You need a specific group of people to play together in order to actually make it funny and keeping the energy throughout the entire thing.

After a bit later, everyone has a tendency of pandering to the audience and repeat jokes. They managed to beat jokes to the ground faster than Tiktok AND Twitter.

Dont get me started with DreamTeam being in there. They're funny in thier own rights but the shipping jokes get so unfunny so quick and they dont know how bounce off of others well. The only exception to this is when Quackity, Velvet, and Ant were playing with Sapnap and Dream. And thats because they decided to mess with the straight white guys into accidently saying offensive shit and seeing those two suffer with trying tiptoe around was so amusing

Whats something about the smp fandom thay makes you sad

This doesnt get me sad, just frustrated and its mostly towards dsmptok and dsmptwt but sometimes this fandom doesnt fucking know how to analyze characters. Like when everyone jumped on Tubbo on being the bad guy when he was a kid trying to use old tatics that knows that worked before and stand up for himself

How when one person decides to do something that they believe is right, everyone just throws the term villian arc around

When one person does one good thing the suddenly everyone accepts into them being good and not ever looking into it.

For fucks sakes, I saw people keep saying that Quackity was turning into Dream or Wilbur and I just sat there being confused on how they conntected those dots that were in different books.

Its so frustrating to read through. But here on dsmpblr, you guys actually understand character analysis, are able to critique them and able to love whoever you enjoy.

Another thing is how this fanbase really puts everyone on a pedestal or objectify them. Just completely forgetting that they're human and treat the streamer as a character. Like, yeah they're playing up a persona whenever they're making content but theres a difference and you shouldn't hold them up like that.

You cant use the argument of "They're young, they dont know any better", when I first entered my first fandom (I was like 11/12), I fully understood that theres a boundary between me and the creator. What they are on screen is a persona but they're still human and I should treat them as such. Its just something that bugs me and its unnerving to see whenever people start getting wierd about it

Final bit is just how the twitch chat acts. They all force the streamer to follow the 'main' plot of it being Tommy or Techno or whoever the fandom chooses to have a favorite, completely ignoring the fact that they are their own character. No one wants to meta game because where is the fun in that but the fucking chat gets so annoying when the streamer goes against fanfavorite of the week. It drains the fun of it being multiple pov's and different characters.

When Slimecicle was barely starting stream I saw so many people spam "Go with Ranboo" and not let him even get into lore first. I hated that I knew it was coming but it was still so fucking frustrating seeing them try to boss him around. Please just let people live outside of the 'main' plot, not everything revolves around your favorites. Now shut the fuck up and let them play

What about the smp fandom that makes you happy?

The people that create art, animatics, theories, playlist, or write oneshots

All of you creators are great and deserve so much more respect then what the fandom gives you because jesus fucking christ they're all so fucking rude. You guys are the ones that are carrying this fandom on your backs and I fucking respect yall for that

________________

Time for da spead: @nixavia @dambette404 and @mocha-is-lost yall dont need to join.....unless😳😳😳

[izzielizzie]

Hi I have a request, but it's VERY au, but I've been thinking about it for a long time. So it's basically this: Maeve and Phoebe are best friends during the OOUIN time, I guess, and Maeve tells Phoebe about her cancer symptoms and her crush on Luis and they're at Brandon's funeral and they sit at a hidden place and Phoebe talks about Maeve's cancer and how she needs to talk to Luis and Addy, Kris, Nate, Cooper, and Luis hear. I think it would be interesting! Thanks love ❤❤ (love ur writing btw!)

ooo wow I love this idea, I’m going to pair this with another one-shot request I got where Brandon Weber is Mr. and Mrs. Rojas’ godson because they know Brandon’s parents, so basically Maeve is forced to go to the funeral to support her parents and because Brandon was her god-brother. Maeve and Phoebe are childhood best friends in this, like you suggested. Enjoy! Also this is the first time I’ve written from Phoebe’s pov so if the narration goes flat for a little while, it’s because I’m still trying to get a hang of her. Also Phoebe is being very sneaky in this fic, sorry, I like, ran out of ideas at some point. Okay I also read this over like two seconds ago it’s been in my drafts for forever basically, and I hate it but also kind of don’t? so let me know what y’all think. 

“Wanna get away?” Maeve whispers in my ear as I sidle up next to her. She looks cute today in a short black dress and leggings, and her hair is down for once. Although maybe noticing that someone looks cute at a funeral is socially unacceptable. 

“Sure,” I say as her hand slips into mine. I squeeze it once, our childhood code word for “are you okay?” that was invented when I visited Maeve in the hospital. She squeezes back with three quick squeezes: not really.

We’re standing between the church pews waiting for the funeral to start. Maeve’s been standing with her parents and Mr. and Mrs. Weber. and she looks so bored it’s actually amusing. 

“Mom, we’re gonna find seats,” Maeve whispers into her mother’s ear. 

“Sure honey,” Mrs. Rojas says absentmindedly patting the top of Maeve’s head. Maeve makes a face. “Oh, hello Phoebe dear,” Mrs. Rojas says wrapping me in a one-armed hug. She’s practically my second mother after having known her since I was three. 

“Hi,” I manage to say back before Maeve yanks me out of the aisle and down the pews to one of the doors leading to the balcony. We pause for a moment, look around, and push through the door when we’re positive no one is watching us. I don’t need to know where we’re going. Maeve and I found the perfect alcove for hiding a long time ago: on the upper part of the balcony on the same side as our family’s pews, where we can see all of the churchgoers, but they can’t see us. It’s saved us from many boring church services.

“I hate it here,” Maeve says once we drop into our usual seats. Maeve scrunches down until all I can see is the top of her head and her feet that she’s propped onto the bannister.

“Of this I am aware.”

Maeve holds her hand up and I take it in both of mine. Hers are too cold. I was honored when Maeve chose me out of all of her friends to tell me about how worried she is about her cancer coming back, but now I’m scared I’m gonna lose her every time I look at her. She’s withering away in front of me and there’s nothing I can do. “Wake me up when this is over.”

“Okay,” I say. The funeral itself doesn’t start for another twenty minutes, and Maeve spends the entire time with her head on my shoulder, her eyes closed. I’m not sure if she’s sleeping or pretending, but I squeeze her hand in mine and lay my head on top of hers. I’m drifting off too when I feel someone tapping my shoulder. I turn to see not only Addy Prentiss standing over me, but Cooper Clay, Nate Macauley, Luis Santos, and Cooper’s boyfriend Kris too.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“Is she asleep?” Addy asks, reaching forward to tentatively run a hand through Maeve’s hair. I glace up at her, and catch sight of Luis looking at her with that longing look he reserves for only her. I love Maeve with my whole heart, but even I have to admit that running out after their kiss was a jerk move. 

“Very,” I confirm.

“She’s so adorable,” Addy whispers as she drops her hand to her side. “We’ll sit back there so we won’t wake her.” She says, waving to the seats a few rows back. I nod as Maeve stirs against me.

“I know,” I whisper back with a nod as Addy steps away. Before I can think much of it I call Nate’s name. 

“Yeah?” He asks, looking at me weirdly.

“Bronwyn’s not here?”

Nate shakes his head. “She couldn’t get a plane here fast enough. Why?”

I shake my head, pursing my lips. I want to tell him and all of Maeve’s friends about her cancer so badly, but I can’t betray Maeve’s trust. She’s been my best friend for thirteen years. I’d be lost without her. 

“I hate funerals,” Maeve mumbles to me a moment later when the priest’s microphone screeches so loudly Maeve startles out of her slumber. 

“I know babe.” 

“God I can’t believe he’s gone,” Maeve says. She shifts a little, her right foot slipping down the banister. 

“Neither can I.” I’m hyper aware of the people behind us even though they probably can’t hear us, and I really hope Maeve doesn’t bring up my relationship with Brandon.

“I feel bad for my parents. I mean, god to lose your godson.”

My head snaps towards Maeve, who’s staring up at the ceiling. “I forgot about that. Jesus, I just called your godbrother an asshole. I’m so sorry.”

Maeve raises an eyebrow at me. “I hated him Phoebe. I just feel bad for saying that about him now that he’s not...” Maeve trails off.

“With us because of illicit activities?” I offer.

Maeve smiles. “Let’s not make it sound like he was a cult sacrifice Lawton.”

For some reason, that makes me double over laughing. Maeve sits up and shakes me. “Shut up someone will hear us.” I wave Maeve away and sit up. 

“Okay, okay, sorry.” 

Maeve smirks at me as she slides back down in her seat. I glance behind us and see Addy holding onto Cooper’s arm as she laughs. I catch her eye, glance down to make sure Maeve isn’t looking at me - she’s not - and then point to Addy, tap my ear, and then wave at Maeve and I. I’m trying to ask if they can hear us, but I must look like a madwoman. Thankfully, Addy understands because she nods vigorously. I give her a thumbs up and turn back towards the priest as he lists off Brandon’s virtues. None of which he actually possessed. 

I bite my lip as I contemplate my next words. Maeve doesn’t know that anyone’s behind us, and asking her about her cancer and her crush on Luis would be deceptive. But I also know Maeve. She’ll never talk about those things unless pushed. 

Oh what the hell? You only live once and all that crap. 

I start off with a logical question: “Are you gonna miss him?”

Maeve turns to me. “Who? Brandon?”

“Yeah, I mean he was your godbrother.”

“And?”

“And you’ve always wanted a brother, right?”

“I’ve wanted an older brother Phoebe. Not a jerk who pushed me into a pond, poured coffee onto my lap when I was wearing shorts, and called me Cancer Girl for like, three years.”

Ouch. When she puts it that way, my question was pretty dumb.

“Right. Well, it’s too bad you don’t have an older brother that’s nice. Not that Brandon would have counted anyway, he’s younger than you.”

Maeve gives me her you’re such an idiot look. “Um, Phoebe, have you met Nate?”

“I have,” I say.

“Then you’ve met my older brother.”

“Right. Sorry, I should have remembered that.”

“Mhm.” Maeve goes back to staring at the ceiling, and I glance back to Addy and co. Addy’s mouthing “awww” at me with her hands over her heart, and Nate’s smiling a little at the back of Maeve’s chair. Oh yeah they can hear us all right. 

“Too bad Knox doesn’t have older brothers,” I say.

“Why?” Maeve asks.

“Because then they would have been like your brothers when you dated him.”

“I suppose so.”

“Luis has an older brother.”

Maeve’s still staring at the ceiling, so I risk a glance back behind me. Addy’s grinning at me and Luis is rolling his eyes. 

“So?” Maeve asks.

“So if you dated him, Manny would be like your brother.”

Maeve rolls her eyes. “Good to know,” she says in her end of conversation voice. 

“I know right? You could ask him out you know.”

“No.”

“But Maeve why not?”

“No.”

“Maevey.”

“No.” 

I can’t stand seeing Luis’s disappointed face, so I don’t turn around.

“Okay, give me one reason why you shouldn’t date the very kind, very handsome, and very in love with you person, who would say yes in a heartbeat.”

Maeve looks at me, her eyes searching my face. “It would be unfair,” she finally says.

“To who?”

“To whom,” she corrects, sounding and looking exactly like Bronwyn. 

“Right, that.”

“It would be unfair to Luis. Because I’d be dating him under false pretenses.”

“What?”

“False pretenses Phoebe, it means-”

“I know what it means, I just don’t understand what you mean.”

“Because I’m dying.” 

Wow okay. I pause for a moment. I glance behind me to see five equally stricken faces. Looks like Maeve really didn’t tell anyone other than me. 

“But Maeve you don’t know that. because you won’t tell anyone.” My voice rises with frustration and I’m scared I’ll start yelling and won’t stop. I’ve had weeks of pent of fear and anger inside of me, and the fear of losing my best friend is the straw that might just break this camel’s back.

“God, Phoebe, stop yelling. And I do. I mean, I’ve had every symptom except joint pain.”

“Well that’s good,” I say sarcastically. “We’ll just wait for you to rot and die and if your joints start hurting along the way we’ll consider telling someone.”

Maeve stares at me. “Don’t you dare tell Phoebe Lawton.”

I’m too angry to think about the consequences when I wave dramatically behind us. “I didn’t need to babe. You did it for me.”

Maeve sits up, turns around so quickly I’m afraid she’ll get whiplash, sees Cooper, Kris, Addy, Nate, and Luis sitting behind her, sighs, and slouches back in her chair. 

I’m taken aback. “You’re not gonna yell at me?”

Maeve doesn’t answer, her hands over her face. Fear surges through me and I lean forwards to take her arms and shake her. “Maevey, Maevey are you okay? Please don’t be crying.”

There’s a cry of alarm behind me, and within an instant, Nate and Addy are on Maeve’s other side. 

“I’m not crying,” Maeve mumbles, her voice angry but resigned as she pulls her hands away to reveal her bloody nose. 

Nate’s pulled a napkin out of his pocket before I can even realize what’s happened. 

“Where are your parents Maeve?” Cooper asks urgently. He, Kris, and Luis have joined us.

“Downstairs.” I glance down to see the procession leaving the church. I catch sight of Mrs. Rojas’s red curls in the sea of black. 

“Hurry they’re leaving,” Addy says urgently, but Cooper’s already gone. I turn back to Maeve as she sobs into Luis’s shoulder. Fear surges through me causing my heart to thump and my head to hurt until Mrs. Rojas arrives with Cooper on her heels. 

The next hour and half is a blur. I’m in the waiting room of Bayview Hospital next to Addy. My head is on her shoulder and she’s stroking my hair. “She’s gonna hate me,” I say, staring at the wall.

“She’s not,” Addy says.

“Yes she is.” I insist. 

Cooper puts his hand on my knee. “You did the right think Phoebe. Maeve knows that.”

“I hope so. But if she doesn’t die, I’m gonna kill her. Did she really expect me to be able to keep a secret like that?”

Nate shakes his head. “That’s Maeve for you.”

I smile at him. “It’s cute she thinks of you as a brother.”

Nate gives me a half grin. “She’s been my little sister from the moment I had an actual conversation with her. I’m just glad she feels the same way.”

“She talks about you a lot. Well, all of you. You mean a lot to her.”

“Glad to hear it,” Luis says darkly. He’s thinking about their kiss, I can tell. 

“Especially you,” I say to him. “She’s just scared of hurting you. Give her time.”

“Time for what?” Maeve asks as she walks into the waiting room behind her mother. 

“For admitting you’re in love with Luis.”

“Right,” Maeve says. She looks too tired to be embarrassed. “Want to sleep over Phoebe?”

“What? You don’t hate me?”

Maeve smiles. “I could never. I needed a push, and you knew it.”

“Well thank god I thought I’d have to start asking Emma for rides to school.”

Maeve rolls her eyes at me as we all stand and walk towards the exit. “Love you Maevey Laevey” I say, using my childhood nickname for her as I throw my arm around her. 

“Back at ya Phoebe Jeebies.”

[ticklishraspberries]

A Day (Or Six) in the Life

Note: This is from Richie’s POV sorta, so fair warning, there is some vulgar language from time to time. Hope you like it!

Sometimes there’s just too much shit going on in Richie’s head. 

And like, don’t get him wrong – he loves the weird crap his brain comes up with. Makes things entertaining, a little spicy, a little zesty. The only problem with it is that he can’t find the damn remote that turns off the six different brands of Looney Tunes going on up there. 

(He’d once spent an entire lecture assigning different Voices to the markers his professor used on the whiteboard, to the point that he hadn’t retained a single iota of anything the man actually wrote down.)

Man, that red little minx was pretty sexy though.

He snorts to himself as he comes out of his dozing, shoved back into the real world for the present. He can feel the hot line of Eddie at his back, leg hooked over his hip like a seat belt. His lil jet pack. 

Richie reaches blindly for his glasses and pushes them onto his nose, sniffling. It’s still fairly early by his standards, but he doesn’t glance long enough at the digital clock to tell for sure, choosing instead to take one of Eddie’s hand and squeeze like it’s his own personal communications device. “Ground control to major Eds, come in, major Eds?”

No response.

Richie huffs, squeezes harder. “Psht. Major Eds? What’s your mission status, major?”

Maybe Eddie understands what he’s saying, maybe he doesn’t, but Richie receives a huff of hot breath at the back of his neck for his efforts, followed by what feels like a cheek smushed against his head. “S’too early, Rich.”

Flabbergasted, Richie turns over completely to grip a disgruntled, squinting Eddie by the front of his sleep shirt. “It’s never too early in outer space, Eds! Did the academy teach you nothing? I’m ashamed.”

And Richie doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to seeing Eddie so ruffled in the morning. Slow, blinking away sleep from his eyes with those impossibly long lashes, yawning around perfectly white teeth that look like little moon rocks, and - and it definitely seems like there’s a theme going on in his head today, doesn’t it?

“What are you even talking about?” The question sounds irritated, but that’s never stopped Richie before. If anything, it means that he has to go and run his mouth harder, because that’s his default reaction to any indication that someone might be upset with him.

(Except they both know that if Eddie really felt like it, he could just pick up his hot little self and go back to his own bed across the room. Hasn’t happened yet, so. Free game.)

“What am I -? I’m talking about the great race, major!” He pokes Eddie’s side, smiling knowingly at the resulting yip and defensive curl. “Space ain’t some pre teen with a secret collection of skin mags, babe-be, it’s not gonna explore itself.”

Eddie wrinkles his nose but can’t bury his smile in his pillow fast enough for Richie to miss it, sighing a long-suffering breath. “You’re so gross.”

“I try.”

“Where am I going, anyway?”

“Hm?” Richie kinda shifted out of the moment there, it’s gonna take him a second to catch up.

“You know,” Eddie yawns again, gesturing to the ceiling with a limp hand. “Space. Tell me where I’m going.”

“Oh, yeah. Uncharted territory, actually. Forgot to mention that.”

“Mmm…”

A moment of silence passes between them, which is really fortunate for Eddie because it gives Richie an opening for just about the best joke ever. 

Gathering him in his arms slowly, he kisses his cheek, nuzzles up to him, and whispers, “To infinity… and your mom!”

Eddie, who had resettled peacefully in the crook of Richie’s arm, stiffens instantly and snaps one angry eye open to glare at him something fierce. Before Richie even so much as smirks, he finds himself pushed down into the squeaky mattress, two hands digging into any spot they can reach.

“Wait- W-wait!” Richie tumbles back with the force of it so hard he thinks he might get whiplash, but it doesn’t matter because he’s laughing around his next breath, tilting his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

Eddie’s like a freight train when it comes to this, hands jumping from sides to ribs to neck to armpits to stomach - it’s all Richie can do to hold on to his wrists, tickle-weak and letting it happen. 

“Yeah, laugh it up, Trash mouth.” Eds hisses, though Richie can see through a few tears that he’s grinning, biting at his tongue in concentration. Richie loves it, loves how Eddie can just reach into his head and jumble his brain until his thoughts whirl around like confetti in a snow globe. 

At any rate, those insistent little fingers wring every last one of them out of him by the time he stops, looking down at Richie’s flushed excuse for a face and beaming like he won a prize. Always a competition with him, hoo-wee. “You done yet?”

Richie blinks, drudging through the mud pile that is his brain for a witty retort. “Uh… I…”

Eddie leans down and kisses his nose. “Good. Let’s go get breakfast, I’m starving.”

——————————

“Oh. My. Fuck.” Richie pulls off his hat and tosses it aside the moment he’s through the door. He stops only to kick off his shoes, one landing near the rack and the other hitting the wall. He doesn’t care, though, limping into the living room. After an eight hour shift, he has no fucking business being vertical and wants no part of it, no sir.

He collapses face first into the cushions of their couch and breathes in. It smells like Bill’s cologne. Richie’s back fucking hurts. 

“Owchie mama, that’s sore.” He complains out loud as he stretches to the full length of his gangly limbs, feet nudging the arm of the couch. He doesn’t expect his legs to get lifted up though, hello?

“What’s sore?” A voice asks curiously as the couch dips under his weight, Richie’s legs falling back down across a certain someone’s lap.

Mike. A godsend, for sure. “Oh Micycle, is it really you? It’s been decades since I’ve heard that macho voice, I almost forgot what it sounds like.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Rich. How was work?”

How was work? How was work?? Richie’s gonna combust, but he’s too tired to go all out, so he settles for a small tantrum, flailing. “Never mention that word to me again. If you do, we’ll have to get a divorce, and then who would look after the children? The traumatized little lads, fuck.”

“That bad, huh?” Mike chuckles, and it’s deep and fond and warm, and Richie looks over his shoulder just so he can picture it better. Mike’s holding a book in one hand, and the glass sitting on the table means that he was definitely sitting there before Richie got back, but now he’s sharing his seat like the fine friggin Georgia peach that he is, holy shit. 

Richie whines. “I thought being a barista would be sexy! Like, a wet dream soccer team of sweaty Brazilians asking me for juice and my number, but instead - pardon my French - I get a bunch of douchebaguettes complaining how I spelled their names wrong. I’m gay and illiterate and I didn’t fucking ask them, did I? Stop laughing at me, Mike n Ike, this is serious business.”

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles again, chest shaking with it. “Douchebaguettes?”

“You’re making fun of me. I’m wounded. Way to kick a man when he’s down, M- ah… never mind, I love you. Keep laughing at me.” He groans outright when a warm hand wraps around his foot and squeezes, eking out the ever-present ache that Richie had gotten used to ignoring. 

“I love you, too.” Mike snorts, and Richie doesn’t have to look to know he’s shaking his head. Fine by him, as long as he keeps touching him like that.

“Mm, your hands are the best,” he slurs into the couch. He will abso-fruitly say anything to encourage him at this point, not that Mike seems to want to stop anyway. His palm pushes delicious friction along his arches, pulling satisfied purrs from Richie with each pass until he’s a good and proper puddle. He might actually be drooling, a little bit.

It’s only when his touch lightens that Richie jerks, and the hand pauses. “Is this okay?”

Bless Mikey’s farm boy heart, asking for consent. Richie’s heart’s gonna burst. “Y-yeah, m’good.” 

And he is. Mike’s fingers trace, feather-light, and it’s like there’s shivers buried underneath Richie’s skin, waiting for Mike to pull the trigger. It feels good. 

It also really, really tickles.

He snags a cushion to bury his smile in, the muscles in his leg going taut every time Mike’s fingertips venture down towards his toes. More than a few times, Richie’s foot twitches away from the tingly zaps before he can stop himself, choked off mirthful noises tightening in his throat until a few burble out.

Each time Mike waits patiently until Richie resettles his foot back in his lap, and then his drifting touch returns, slow like tree sap and unbearably electric. It’s an awful game that forces Richie to expose how much he really wants it, but then again, Mike never plays like that intentionally. He just does what seems right because he’s perfect and a gentleman. 

Richie loosens like an uncoiled spring when Mike rubs his thumb over his heel, whining his loss. 

And because he’s a fucking gem, Mike picks up on it right away and huffs softly. “Sorry.” He scribbles gently at the arch of Richie’s slender foot in apology, earning him a muffled snicker and scrunching soles.

“Mihihike.” 

“Mhm?”

“Tickles.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Pfft. Richie shakes his head, laughing harder into the cushion when Mike’s fingers drag down to his toes, scritching repeatedly. It’s not fair. He’s still wearing his socks with the pineapples on ‘em, and it’s worse than if he’d gone bare foot. He guesses it’s true that standing around for too long makes them more sensitive, but then, he’s always been this way. 

His knees jerk far more often now that Mike’s put some gusto behind it, albeit a very small amount, but Richie thinks he does a damn decent job at keeping his feet from wiggling away, all things considered.

Still, eventually, he hears the sound of the book getting set aside. Mike stops his gentle tapping at his soles, and Richie realizes as he sags back into the couch that he’s… tired. Like, stupid sleepy. He yawns and stretches again, humming his surprise when two strong arms turn him over.

“Well hello, handsome.” Richie grins back at Mike’s amused half-smile, more than happy to be the center of his attention for a while. 

“C’mon, Rich. It’s late, time for bed.”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

He doesn’t fight it when Mike uses those absurdly strong arms to lift him up, despite being taller than him, wrapping his legs firmly around Mike’s hips and holding on to his shoulders. “Onward,” he yawns with enthusiasm. “Quick now yungin’, before we die of dysentery. Go on now. Git.”

Mike rolls his eyes and adjusts his grip as they head for the stairs. “Yeehaw.”

——————————

Richie tosses his controller on the couch beside him with a pout, watching the letters ‘game over’ flash across the screen. “Man…”

Behind him, he can hear the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing, and with a furrowed brow he gets up to investigate. “If you’re here to rob us, take Eddie first. He’s the easiest to carry.” 

Around the corner, Ben smiles up from where he’s taking off his shoes by the rack (careful, because Stan insists). He’s beaming, actually, and still in his hot little karate outfit that makes him look like a formal dumpling. “You’re so mean to him. What if I wanted to rob you instead?”

“Everybody wants to rob me, Benny boy, get in line,” He hops up onto the counter to watch Ben’s face in the refrigerator light as he goes rummaging for a smoothie. “I’m just saying, if you’re any good at this, you gotta take the valuables first. Bottom shelf.”

Ben chuckles, leans down, and reappears, drink in hand. Richie nudges the door shut with his foot and grins back. “Who says you aren’t valuable?”

“Aw shucks.”

“Besides myself, I mean.”

“Benjamin.” 

Ben laughs at him around a sip of his drink, and Richie couldn’t stay fake mad at him even if he wanted to. It’s really nice that the cheeky fuck has some confidence now, since he’s been losing some extra pounds here and there. He’s not afraid to brush past people anymore, doesn’t shift uncomfortably when his thighs touch someone else’s, and he hip-checks them on purpose with a sly look every now and then. He’s not afraid to take up space now, and all of the losers are proud of him for it, including Richie.

(He’s just, like, super jealous that he can’t have that sorta weight transferred over to himself. Just a little bit, so he’s not all jabby angles and pointy bones. Also? He’s going to miss Ben’s love handles.)

“You seem extra bold today. Care to share anything with the class?”

That happy look from a few minutes ago returns like Ben just remembered something important. “Yeah, actually - hold on…” He turns, fishing in his bag for something before turning back, fingers clutching a bundle of blue fabric. “I, uh, I got my blue belt today.”

“Holy shit!” Richie adjusts his glasses, leaning in to run his fingers over it when Ben offers it up. “You’re pullin’ my leg.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re making it up.”

“I’m not!” Ben’s voice just brims with infectious joy, like a little kid excited to show their first ever drawing from art class. He even has the little jump in his step, too.

“Benny, that’s awesome, dude!” He jumps down to punch Ben’s shoulder, smiling wide at the other’s shy but obvious pride. “And you know,” he thumbs at his upper lip and sniffs. “Not to fuck my own ass or anything, but I’m something of a dōjō master myself.” 

“Really?” Ben smirks, pushing back when Richie continues to push at his shoulder with his knuckles, bouncing on his heels anime fighter style.

“Really really. Call me Sensei, ‘cause I’ll teach you to mess with me.” He dodges with a surprised bark of laughter when Ben grabs for him, ducking and bringing his hands up to defend himself as they tussle right there in the kitchen, play-wrestling – Richie’s favorite thing.

Well. Almost favorite.

“Oof!” Richie hurumphs when the quick scuffle ends with him caught in a headlock, twisting back and forth fruitlessly. “Oi! Unhand me you fiend! You scoundrel! I’ll have you nicked, I will!”

Ben, not even winded, slaps his hand away. “Admit that I won and I’ll let go.”

“I’d rather bloody perish.”

“You’d rather perish?”

“Aye.” Richie grunts, straining against the hold. It’s like trying to empty a lake with a bucket. It just ain’t happening.

“Okay.”

Ben’s free hand digs into his side and Richie collapses back into him instantly, like a buck learning how to walk, except he’s really fucking bad at it and giggling maniacally. “Ben!” 

They crumple to the ground together, though Ben anticipates it, wrapping a solid arm around Richie’s waist as his other hand snakes up under his shirt to scribble at his ribs. 

Richie himself is a pale pile of squirming limbs, pushing back into Ben’s chest and squeaking with each sneaky pinch to his side. He tosses his head back against Ben’s shoulder in helpless snickering, tugging at his arm. “Ch-cheater!”

“I don’t hear you complaining!” Ben shoots back, fingers darting to where his shirt rucked up at his stomach to lay ticklish waste there. They move in a constant clawing motion, gentle because Ben is always gentle, but sadistic in the best worst possible way.

Richie convulses with how hard he laughs. He’s trapped in the most backwards tickle hug to exist, socks slipping on the tile of his kitchen floor, getting tortured by the group’s designated teddy bear.

A wayward finger brushes over the curve of Richie’s hip, sending him jolting even farther into Ben’s lap, tittering. 

“C’mon, Trash mouth. Fess up.”

If Ben thinks he’ll ever tap out, he is sorely mistaken.

“Never!” Richie cries, and then dissolves into cackling when Ben goes straight for his momentarily unprotected armpit.

Neither of them notice when Stanley steps into the doorway and promptly turns to walk back out, not once looking up from his phone.

——————————

Every now and then, Richie forgets that he might actually come off as attractive to the other losers. He’s always jokingly attractive, obviously. ‘Who wouldn’t want a piece of me?’ or ‘Golly, buy me dinner first!’ Are a few easy phrases to throw around, usually with a suggestive cock of his hip or an over exaggerated flutter of his eyelashes, which gets him a laugh now and then.

But like, for realzies? Richie isn’t hot hot, not like Mike or Bill with their big shoulders and mouth-watering biceps, Jesus Christ on a stick. He doesn’t have that cute allure like Eddie or Ben, either. Richie’s just a scrawny friggin beanpole, lanky, unlike the elegant way that Stan and Beverly manage. 

Being so gay is hard sometimes. Everyone looks hotter than you. 

“Rich?” 

He startles out of his musings and comes firmly back to himself where he’s reclined next to Bill on the trampoline, reminded of how his train of thought had gone that route; they’d been messing around until they weren’t, until Bill had cupped his face and brought him into a kiss, and then a fuzzy little parasite called insecurity reared its fugly head.

Richie squashes it down around a dazed smirk, seemingly quelling the momentary unease on Bill’s face. “Yowza.”

Bill snorts and rolls his eyes, plays with the hem of Richie’s “Support Whale Sex: Use Shampoo” shirt. “I thought you weren’t in the mood, for a second.”

“Vat?” Richie cries incredulously, shifting upwards and straddling Bill’s lap. “Bullsheet. Lies.” As if Richie could ever resist a man with legs like that. Damn.

Bill’s smile is genuine when he pulls Richie back down into another kiss, their lips meeting sparking a whole new wave of something in Richie’s chest, so intense that he’s pulling back within a few seconds, “Ven you look like zat? You lift, yes? Vat kind of –“ 

A hand covers his mouth, and Rich realizes that Bill is furrowing his brows at him. “Why are you doing a Voice right now?”

“…I’m nervous.” He apologizes, muffled. 

Bill snorts again as if to say ‘yeah right,’ but his expression softens when Richie doesn’t say anything else. “Nervous, huh?”

Richie nods, then licks Bill’s palm. He pulls it away with a disgusted chuckle, and then.

Then Richie is suddenly on his back, looking up at two dark, mischievous eyes. “Hoo shit.” He whispers. They are not in Kansas anymore.

“You should be.” 

That’s all the warning Richie gets before devilish fingers attack his sides, letting loose a bout of hysterical giggles from somewhere deep in Rich’s stomach. It’s like opening the floodgates every time. A head rush and a half. He squirms immediately, laughing harder when Bill drags him back down and pins him with one forearm against his own.

“Where are you going?” He muses, fond, and Richie’s face blushes ten different shades of crimson.

“B-Bill, please!” He wriggles, fingers clawing uselessly against slick fabric. If he struggles any harder, there’s a good chance the trampoline might start bouncing them for real.

“Please what?” His fingers are skittering up his ribs now, because Bill knows Richie just can’t stand that, and he’s smiling down at him like Richie makes him the happiest he’s ever been, and Richie can’t stand that either.

He squeezes his eyes shut, laughter coming freely the more that Bill tickles up his sides and over his stomach, curling up. Bill doesn’t seem to mind his lack of answer or the way Richie’s knees jerk into his hips, content to pull an endless amount of loud snickering from his partner.

It’s only when Richie arches away with a desperate wheeze that Bill stops what he’s doing, hands rubbing firm circles into the hips he’d just been scritching at - probably a routine he knew well from getting revenge on another particularly bony little shit they knew.

“You’re so - so mean. Gah. I’m taking you out of my will, Billiam.” Richie breathes, reaching up to wipe behind his glasses. 

Bill just chuckles at him and leans down, and they share a soft kiss that makes Richie’s heart flutter in his chest all over again.

——————————

 Kerplunk, sploosh. Kerplunk, sploosh. Kerplunk – 

“Fuck!” Richie jolts with a quiet hiss of surprise, shifting his attention from the lake to the offending pen that had just jabbed his side. Bev, sitting next to him, giggles and points to his textbooks with it. 

“Focus.”

Richie sticks out his upper lip, dropping his handful of pebbles in the grass at his feet. It took him, like, a whole twenty seconds to find those. “I was focused.”

“Focus on your homework, ding dong.” She gestures with her pen again, not looking away from her own book, which she holds easily in one hand. Show off.

Richie grumbles and hunches over, scrubbing a hand over his face. He makes it through two paragraphs before he fidgets again, making to reach in his shirt pocket for a smoke before he realizes, oh, yeah, I’m giving those up. Shit. 

Sometimes character development is just not worth it.

Bev appears to notice the gesture though, because she gently elbows Richie this time, gesturing to the book. “It’s really not so bad. You’ve already gotten through a few pages.”

“Yeah, with like, a bajillion more to go.” He huffs, flipping through the pages one more time before sitting up straight and slapping the table. “That’s it! I quit college.”

“Mhm.” Beverly is far too nonchalant but she can afford to be, since she’s heard the exact same statement fourteen times since the beginning of the semester. Two weeks in and going strong.

“I’m serious this time! I don’t need a degree to be funny, I’ve got that part in the bag. Also, capitalism? Who needs it.”

“Do you really hate classic mythology that much?”

Richie groans and drops his head against the picnic table. “Yes.” He’d thought that it would be cool! Gods and Goddesses and monsters (oh my), but instead he has to bear through three whole paragraphs of a list of men, all sons of other men, because any of that is just so integral to the understanding of the Trojan war. Everyone knows that Achilles was the only real bitch on that battlefield, okay? Literally nothing else matters.

He jumps again, this time snickering, when Bev scribbles at his side. “Hehehey!”

“Cheer up, Tozier. Your vibes are ruining our study date.”

Richie eyes her up, adjusting his glasses. “Are you saying that my vibes are off, Marsh?”

She nods sagely. “They’re atrocious.”

“I’ll have you know that I’ve never failed a single vibe check in my life.” And that isn’t going to change today, no sir. Just ask Eddie, the last time he tried to pull something. 

“You’re gonna fail more than just this vibe check if you don’t do your reading.”

“Not true! I know the stuff, I just… don’t like it.” He’s of the philosophy that memorizing shit just makes it harder to remember. Richie can go over some of the professor’s notes online and be just fine. 

Heaving a sigh, Beverly gets up. She pushes at Richie’s back. “Scoot in.”

“If you say so, ma’am.” Though Richie just complies because he wants to see where this is going. When Beverly slides in behind him, legs on either side of his, he can kinda feel her boobs pressing against his back. Nice.

“Oh hello.” Richie grins, feeling free to press back into her. She smells nice - changed her perfume for some reason - and her presence is a welcome warmth, inviting and –

She blows a raspberry against the back of his neck.

– and a fucking trap!

“Bev!” He jerks forward instantly, shoulders hunching. She follows, nuzzling into the space behind his ear, and Richie shivers violently. “O-oho my gawd, why?!”

“I’m just making sure you pay attention.” She teases, weaving her arms around his chest so that her fingertips rest at his sides, making Richie tense. But nothing comes, yet.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tickling him is definitely not going to make him want to read more. It’s going to make him want to be tickled. It’s like trying to punish an addict with cocain.

Bev snorts, fingertips wriggling briefly enough to get a squeak and a weak squirm out of him. “Just keep reading. If you slack off, I’ll bring you back!” 

Ah! So simple! Haha! Wow. Genius. 

Richie sighs heavily to indicate how much he turns his nose up at this frankly childish behavior, but reluctantly opens his book back up to where he was before. Admittedly, having Bev close might help his attention span, just slightly. He can feel her cheek resting against his back, ankles brushing his every now and then, and her arms are a soothing weight against his chest. Like the fancy weighted blanket that Eddie uses on his more fidgety days.

That doesn’t stop his attention from drifting occasionally, of course. When he takes a little too long to turn the page, Beverly tweaks his ribs or snuffles at the side of his neck until he lurches forward in a bout of giggles, holding on to the wooden table for support. And sometimes, when his leg starts bouncing of its own free will, she smooths her hand down his thigh and starts squeezing his knee, earning stronger fits of squirming and yelping that even gets her to laugh. What a meanie.

“You have your own stuff to read, you know.” He huffs after a brutal attack to his hips, having nearly torn his page in half. Richie immediately regrets it though, because he doesn’t want her to stop. He silently prays that she doesn’t move, and whoever’s listening grants him a little mercy.

“I know.” She says, nudging his head with hers. Richie reaches for her hand, thinking he might off himself if she doesn’t take his back, but she does, and they sit like that together for a while, listening to nature do its thing.

“Hey, Rich?”

“Yeah?”

She uses her free hand to get at his stomach, and Richie chokes.

“Do your fucking reading.”

——————————

They’re barely three steps through the door before Stan is on Richie like strippers to a pole, pushing him up against the wall and staring him down with so much intensity that Richie doesn’t have enough breath left to ask the obvious question: what the fuck?

He grips his bag with his work outfit inside of it and tries to remember if he did anything particularly annoying on the drive home, but nothing comes to mind other than when he tried to poke Stan’s jaw and he swatted him away. Richie wasn’t actively pursuing anything because that never works with Stan. He’s like a fucking cat that way; if he gets even the slightest bit ruffled, he leaves the room, all indignant and huffy. 

Hence, his confusion at this particular stunt.

That doesn’t last long though, because Stan shakes his head slowly and pulls Richie’s hat off his head, tossing it aside without even looking to see where it goes, which is a very unlike-Stan gesture.

“Stan –?“

“Shut up.”

“Shutting up.”

They look at each other, and Richie nearly trips over himself when Stan starts moving them both backwards, towards his room. Normally that might raise some flags, but they’ve been through scenarios like this before. Richie doesn’t really mind getting pushed around (in fact he might even like it a little bit if his first childhood crush is anything to go by) but not knowing the reason is… fishy.

Stan kicks the door closed behind them, still walking Richie backwards, but grabs a hold of his shirt before he can go tumbling back on the bed. “Here’s how this is going to work.”

“Uh –“ Richie’s already on board.

Stan’s grip tightens, and then Richie’s world goes scrambled for three seconds when he gets pushed - fucking pushed, the nerve - onto the bed, Stanley following after him easy as pie and hovering over him, predatory, focused. “I’m going to tickle you.”

Richie can’t hide the way his body almost seems to curve up at that statement. If his body was a temple, it was a temple to some very traitorous limbs. Stan deciding he wants to do anything even close to roughhousing is a special treat, but this one in particular has Richie’s name on it

He realizes after a beat that Stan is waiting for him to say something, and Richie, in true Richie fashion, momentarily forgets the English language. “Uhm - yes?”

“Good. Put your arms up.” 

That’s not going to last, but Richie does it, and Stan leans in like the sexy Mr. Rogers that he is and… plucks his glasses off his face, sticking them in his shirt pocket. Friggin thief. When did everyone in this house get so bold? “Hey –“

“Can’t risk breaking them.” Stan answers, fingers already slipping under Richie’s shirt to flutter at his sides. Richie wiggles and his complaint trails off into a snicker. Can’t argue with that anyway he guesses.

Stan tickles him like he does everything else: thoroughly, and with dedication. Quick and nimble fingers drill into the spaces between Richie’s ribs, blunt nails scritching down to his sides, then pulling at his jeans just enough to expose his hips, and Stan’s ducking his head and Richie can fucking see those curls, almost, through his blurry, tear-stained vision, helpless with laughter already, grabbing at the head-board -

– And they pause. Stopping is so much than starting. Richie can feel Stan’s breath against his stomach, where his shirt is rucked up, when he speaks. “When’s the last time you took a shower?”

Through giggle-heavy breath, Richie struggles to answer. “Uhm, like, y-yesterday? Wh- fuhuhUCK!” 

He squeals when Stan’s tongue joins the mix, starting at his belly button until he meets the curve of his hip, nibbling along his V-line with so much enthusiasm that Richie thinks he must actually taste like the coffee he smells like. That’s the only explanation for such an assault.

Richie curls in on instinct, hands going for Stan’s hair, but he must anticipate this because he sits up instantly, grabbing Richie’s wrist and glaring at him. Or, he’s probably glaring. He looks like an angry blur at the moment.

It’s…. pretty hot. Not gonna lie.

“I said keep your arms up.” He growls. When Richie slips obediently back into place without question, Stan moves down even further, hoisting Richie’s calve over his shoulder and setting to work again. 

The sweeping motion of his fingertips is not as aggressive as before, though it’s probably because they don’t need to be. Even through the denim, that light swishing motion from his thigh to his knee and back again has him cackling, all reserve flying out the window as he scrambles, pulling at the sheets.

Stan pulls at him in response, taking a firm hold of his ankle and scribbling in a relentless, spidery motion at the back of his knee.

Richie 1. Screeches, then 2. Does his best impression of a hula dancer having a seizure.

Apparently breaking the arm-up rule no longer matters at this point, because Richie is just beside himself in the agonizingly sweet, tingly jolts running through his nervous system, spasming on the bed and doing anything within his physical power to get away from it.

Stan doesn’t let go, though, only moves with him, tickling and tickling. Yes, Richie thinks. Please don’t stop. This has to stop. Don’t stop. Don’t let go. Oh god, this is the fucking worst this sucks this is so good, don’t stop, don’t stop – 

By the time Stan has thoroughly decimated Richie’s thinking capabilities, having seen to it that both legs have received proper attention, Richie is a curled ball of silent, wheezing laugher in the center of the bed. He takes a deep breath only to let out another fresh peal of laughter, shaking, as Stan lays beside him to rub his shoulder.

“Don’t.” He sighs after a few moments of cool down, as if exasperated, but it sounds fond. 

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh while you were killing me, I’ll take note of that for next time.” Richie snarks, sniffling and wiping at his eyes.

“No, I mean don’t whine like that.”

Richie whined? “Like what?”

“Like the minute someone stops touching you, it’ll never happen again.” Stan explains patiently, like it’s obvious, twisting one of Richie’s curls around a slender finger and, for now, neglecting to mention how he needs a hair cut.

Oh, that… that – “You don’t know that.” He defends feebly, accepting his glasses when they’re pushed into his palm. Sometimes he forgets how easy it is for Stan to just look at him and see him. It’s unnerving how perceptive he can be, and possibly just as unnerving how much Richie wants to be seen, scary as that might be. He’s had killer clown dreams that terrify him less, and yet.

“I do,” Stan disagrees, making room for Richie to turn over. Neither of them are surprised when Richie ducks his head to hide his face in Stan’s button-up, cheeks burning pink from more than just exertion. “You make it painfully obvious, but it’s a ridiculous fear. There’s six other people in this house. No one’s going to stop touching you unless you ask them to.”

Richie snorts into Stan’s chest. Fat fucking chance.

Still, there’s always that lingering Voice - the one that sounds most like himself - asking him if six people will be enough. Richie Tozier has not one, but six partners and he still wonders if that attention is enough. Talk about high maintenance.

Richie closes his eyes and just enjoys Stan’s hand in his hair, trying not to think about that too much, even as he counts down the seconds to that touch stopping too. “Is it…annoying?”

“That you like tickling? No.” Stan scratches at the base of his neck and Richie hums, pressing closer. “It’s only annoying that you think it’s going to go away.”

Well fuck him, Richie can’t just control how he feels about it, okay? It’s not like he hasn’t tried before. It’s hard, he doesn’t want to think about it, he doesn’t want anything good in his life to ever end, and he especially doesn’t want Stan to stop tracing the curve of his ear like that.

Two fingers tilt his chin up, and Richie blinks back at Stan’s surprisingly soft eyes. “It’s not going to stop.” He murmurs, then kisses Richie’s forehead. 

It hits him harder than a baseball bat to the gut. How did Richie Tozier die? It was the curly twink in the bedroom with unconditional love.

That being said, it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate the reassurance, even if it makes him the slightest bit vulnerable. Just a little too open. A little too raw. Tickling allows him to be like that for a short while, and maybe that’s why Richie likes it so much. Instant satisfaction, zero commitment, and it’s fun too. No arcade game or cold shower can scratch an itch for something like that.

He smiles back up at Stan and took his hand so he could kiss the back of it. A moment of mushy, romantic weakness if you will. “Aw, Staniel. You make me blush. If you wanted to woo me so badly you could have put on some judge Judy and those cute little pajama pants, maybe with some ice cream - no, definitely with some ice cream -“

Stan sighs but indulges Richie in his rambling, fingers trailing through his hair all the while. Things have already shifted back into normal territory, but there’s this new, unspoken truce between Richie and this obsession of his - the confirmation that each of his partners knows what he needs, when he needs it, and that they’re not going to drop-kick him out of their lives for asking for it one too many times. It’s nice to have something consistent in his life.

But if those six losers think they don’t have the same exact fate lingering over their heads, they have no idea what force they’re reckoning with. Richie is nothing if not a giver, and he intends to deliver their due retribution.

In full.

[multiharlot]

angel | reid/prentiss x angel!reader (7)

summary: y/n begins exploring her feelings for both emily and spencer, and things aren’t easy for her. 

warnings: nothing? i don’t think?

masterlist

series masterlist

part one | part six

y/n’s pov

she’s beautiful. her laugh made the entire world stop. the way the sunshine bounced off of her raven black hair and the way her smile shined put the heaven’s to shame. she spoke animatedly about her times overseas.

“you’re beautiful.” i smiled, taking a sip of my tea. 

a deep red blush covered her cheeks as she stopped talking for just a moment. 

“so are you.” she says softly as she takes a drink of her coffee. 

i giggle slightly, crossing my ankles and setting my teacup down. i place my face in my hands, taking in every moment, every feeling, and praying that it couldn’t somehow be taken away from me. emily sighs, placing her cup onto the table and wiping the sides of her mouth. 

“you know...when you died-”

“i know...i heard you.” i nod, reaching over and placing my hand on top of hers. 

“but i...i need to tell you myself. you know?”

i nod my head, and she turns her hand palm up, running her thumb softly over my knuckles. 

“i honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. i wasn’t sure if i’d be able to find someone else again, and it turns out that i was kinda right. you’re...my soulmate and i love you. i’m in love with you. and i know that this is a really complicated situation and i know that you have reid too and i just want you to be happy. whether that’s with me or with him. so i need you to know that you can’t be afraid of hurting one of us by choosing the other. i can’t speak for him, but i don’t care which one of us you- okay that’s a lie i do care, but i just mean that all that truly matters to me is that you’re happy.” she says, gripping my hand tightly. 

“i...i’m sorry. i know this must be really hard for the both of you. and i wish it didn’t have to be like this. but at least i know that this way, you guys both get a soulmate.” i sigh, pursing my lips softly as emily continues to play lightly with my fingers. 

“how so?”

“well...one of the appealing things about me giving up my wings was that abba and gabriel said that whichever one of you i ‘choose’ will get assigned another soulmate. this was the only way that both of you could get the happy ending you deserved. and i’m your- was your guardian angel. that’s my job. to keep you from any more unnecessary pain.” i shrugged, and emily smiled softly. 

“i love you.”

“i love you too, emily.”

she grips my hands tightly and i intertwine my fingers with hers, the ends of our hands resting gently on the table. 

“come on, let’s go.” she says, grabbing her things and leaving cash on the check tray. 

i furrow my eyebrows, grabbing my jacket and standing up from the table, following behind her as she drags me out of the small restaurant. 

“where are we going?” i giggle as she speeds off towards her car. 

“just trust me.” she smiles, opening the passenger door and allowing me inside. 

i glare conspicuously at her and she just smiles, speeding off into the streets of DC. a small squeal leaves my lips as she pulls into the fairly empty parking lot. 

“give a girl a warning before you nearly give her whiplash?” i pout, and she laughs, taking the key from the ignition. 

“my driving is not that bad.”

“oh but it is, em.” i breath out, undoing my seatbelt. 

she purses her lips out and i smile, opening the door and stepping out of the car. 

“so where are we?” i ask, running a hand through my messy hair. 

“we, are at my happy place. i went here a lot when i needed to get my mind off of things...off of you.” she sighs, intertwining her hands with mine, causing a giddy feeling to arise in my chest. 

“oh...i remember seeing you there a couple times. but i thought it best to leave you alone. you- nope. sorry. i gotta stop doing that.” i chuckle awkwardly as we begin walking towards the gates of the botanical gardens. 

“doing what?” she asks, squeezing my hand softly. 

“reminiscing on being an angel. it’s not who i am anymore, and dwelling on it isn’t healthy.” i shrugged. 

emily sighs as she pushes open the gates. 

“you’ll always be my angel, y/n.” she smiles softly. 

i smile back at her, walking through the gates and a small gasp leaves my lips. the thousands, if not millions, of plants surrounding us. and for the first time sing i had my wings taken, i felt like i was back home. 

“it-it’s just like-” i gasp, reaching my hands out and gently running my fingers over the leaves and flower petals. 

“it looks like the garden of eden, huh?” she smiles, letting go of my hand and wrapping her arms around my waist and placing her chin on my shoulder. 

“yeah...” i breathe out, a faint smile gracing my lips as my eyes begin to water. 

“can i ask you something?” emily mumbles as she moves my hair over the opposite shoulder than the one she was currently leaning on. 

“mhm.” i hum happily as we stood in the garden, swaying softly as i peered over the field of flowers. 

“what were the other options? i know you said that you had a choice between you, one of us, or maeve. but...what would’ve happened?” she asks, releasing me from her hold and walking us through the garden pathways. 

i pause, pursing my lips and reaching over to grab her hand in order to find some form of support or relief. 

“ummm...so. one of you would’ve had to go and retrieve the human part of my soul from hell and then abba would’ve created a human body to put the soul in. but there wasn’t a good chance that you guys would’ve made it out of hell. you would’ve been stuck. and then the other option was to reverse the resurrection. give back maeve in exchange for my human soul. but then we would’ve been right back where we started with the whole two soulmates thing. and then...there was this option. i make a deal with lucifer to make me human, and i’d choose one of my soulmates, and the other would be reassigned another soulmate. so i chose the one where no one got hurt.” i shrugged. 

“but you got hurt, y/n.” emily says, pulling my arm to stop us in our tracks. 

“it was a price i was willing to pay. all of those choices came at a price. and i’d let lucifer rip my wings out on a loop if it meant i could keep you all safe.” i quickly argue, furrowing my eyebrows at her. 

“it’s not your job to-”

“yes, emily. it was. it was my job. i was your guardian angel. i did what i did, and i don’t regret it. and you need to know that it’s not your fault, and it’s not reid’s.” i say, taking both of her hands into mine. 

“i...all of this could’ve been avoided if you’d just never brought back maeve in the first place.” she mumbles, and i tsk at her, cupping her face in my hands. 

“i did it because i thought i could make spencer happy. all i’ve ever truly cared about was making you all happy. i made that choice myself. you can’t blame spencer for the choices that i made.”

she lets out a short breath, reaching up and moving the hair away from my forehead. 

“i just hate seeing you in pain. and don’t try and tell me you’re not. i can see it in your face...you miss it. you miss heaven, you miss being an angel. you hate not having your powers. and i can’t help but feel like-”

“hey hey. stop. it’s nobody’s fault. i made my choice, and i’d make it again. okay?”

she nods her head and i bring my hands away from her face, but her left hand remains perched softly against my jaw. 

“c-can i-”

“yes.”

and her lips are placed on mine and suddenly it felt as though the world had stopped. it felt like all the power i had lost was restored and everything made sense. her soft hold travels from my jaw down to my hips as she pulled me closer to her. and i traced my fingers lightly up her arms before landing my hands on her cheeks. her soft lips entangled themselves with mine and i finally understood the appeal of soulmates. it had made all the pain and suffering that much more worthwhile. but it also made me scared, what if i felt the same things with spencer? how was i supposed to choose between two loves that made me feel like this? that brought me this much joy? how am i supposed to do that?

emily’s phone rings out, and i slowly pull away. a soft smile on my lips as i giggle at my smudged lipgloss over emily’s lips. 

“i-i’m sorry.” she chuckles, pulling her phone out of her pocket. 

“no. don’t be.”

“this better be good, garcia.” emily sighs as she brings the phone to her ear.

after a short pause, emily’s eyes flicker between me and the ground, her hand still on my hip and she rubs her thumb softly against my skin sending chills up my spine. 

“okay, i’ll be there in like 15.” she says, hanging up and tucking the phone into her pocket. 

“i’m sor-”

i lean forward, placing a peck quickly on her lips. she smiles as a small blush rises to her face. 

“don’t apologize.”

she nods her head, before running her hand through my hair. 

“come on, let’s get you home.”

“yes please. i want a nap. i’m so tired. this whole human thing is exhausting”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

third person pov

emily walked into the conference room with a small smile on her face and her lips still tingling softly. y/n’s rose flavored pink lipgloss lingered on her tongue and the phantom touches of the girl she loved still lingered on her body.

“what’re you so smiley abo- oh.” rossi begins asking, but quickly cuts himself off with a knowing smirk on his face. 

emily stops, pursing her lips and furrowing her eyebrows at her team. spencer shifted awkwardly in his chair as the jealousy burned like a gasoline fire in his chest. 

“what?” she asks innocently. 

“nothing...i just didn’t know you were a rose glitter lipgloss kind of woman.” hotch shrugs, smirking softly. 

the team smile as emily pouts, swiping the remnants of the lipgloss off her lips and spencer couldn’t help but start to feel a little helpless and slightly left out. he too, wanted to have remnants of y/n’s sticky pink lipgloss left on his lips. he wanted to be the one being ridiculed by the team right now. spencer reid had decided in this moment, that the only person he wanted y/n kissing was him. and he’d be do anything to make that happen, starting with her favorite tea shop. 

meanwhile, y/n was sat cross legged on her bed as groans of frustration escaped her lips. she had never been in love before. so how was she supposed to choose which soulmate would be the one for her? how was she supposed to do any of this? and as she pondered her thoughts, she couldn’t help the one thing that remained prevalent in the front of her mind, was spencer as good of a kisser as emily was?

taglist:

@dreatine​ @slytherinintj13​ @mileven-reddie​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @haileymorelikestupid

[loverontheleft]

The Honeymoon One (4)

Part 1 -||- Part 2 -||- Part 3

1.6k / AU!B x reader.

Warnings: language, sexual tension.

-||-

“Bunny,” she groans, scratching at your chest in a way that makes your sweatpants start to feel a little uncomfortable. “I’m hungry.” You smile down at her, bleary-eyed and messy-haired, willing yourself not to get hard right now. “Buuuuuuuunnyyyyyy. Huuuuungry,” she whines now and you laugh, stroking her hair out of her face. Her pupils are fully dilated and her face is still slightly flushed.

“Okay, Ko,” you soothe, realizing that she’s still very drunk. “What do you want to eat?”

“Mmmmph,” she groans again, pulling the blankets over her head.

You pet her head under the blanket. “I can’t feed you if you don’t tell me what you want.” She replies that she’ll eat literally anything and everything before ‘hurrumphing’ again under the blanket and nuzzling your shoulder.

“My sweet duckling,” you tell her, “I’ll order literally anything and everything for you.” The unspoken words there, of course, are that you’d do literally anything and everything for her. It’s true, you realize. You’d do anything for her. She lifts her head slightly and all you can see is her eyes and the bridge of her nose.

“Too old to be a duckling; quack quack.” She drops back down into her blanket tent and you laugh.

“Did you just Mulaney me?”

“Quack,” is all she says in a pathetic voice, and you laugh, realizing that you might actually be in love with this woman.

-||-

“Is it good?” You watch as she takes a slow bite of the beet and goat cheese ravioli. She was significantly more sober when she emerged from her blanket tent again and even managed to place her own order for dinner with the flight attendant. She nods now and tries to fight back a moan before reaching for the sparkling wine the flight attendant brought you both earlier along with the mixed warm nuts and the appetizers.

“Yes. Is yours?” She gestures at the sliced and layered mozzarella/prosciutto combination sprinkled with olive oil and balsamic vinaigrette. You nod enthusiastically and offer her a bite on your fork. She gives you a hesitant look and you realize with a pang of disappointment that she must not remember the fervent making out from earlier. “We can share a fork, Y/n,” you say with a soft laugh, hoping it masks your feelings. She smiles faintly and plucks the bite delicately from your fork.

“It is good,” she manages behind her hand. “Oh my god, that is so good.” She grins as she swallows. “Do you want to try mine?”

“...kinda,” you say sheepishly and she laughs before handing you her fork. “Thank you, Koloa,” you say affectionately and she blinks at you in faint surprise.

“You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

“I- oh.” You find yourself drawing a blank. Is now the time to tell her? No. Probably not. Right? No. Definitely not. How does she not remember? She was trying to get in your lap! How does she not- “Sorry, I just - you- Sorry.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” She smiles sweetly. “It’s just been a while.” She blushes a little and snuggles into you. Her hair smells so good and you drop your face down to breathe her in. “Hey - B?” She tips her head up slightly. You make a soft sound to acknowledge her and she curls her fingers against your chest. “I know you’ve told me before, but it’s always when we’re drunk. Why do you call me Koala?”

You laugh out loud. “No, darlin. Not Koala. That’s a marsupial. Koloa. Koh-LOW-uh.” You sound it out for her and she nods, taking this in. “You know. Hawaiian for duckling?” You wait and she smiles up at you sweetly. She remembers exactly what it means, you realize. She just wants to hear the story again. You don’t mind. “Because - well. You’d stumble down the hall of our dorm after me when we’d get back from parties and just follow me everywhere. I loved it. Loved how you’d cling to my hand and follow after me - my sleepy little duckling. You even tried to follow me into the bathroom once. It was cute. And it reminded me of when I was little and followed my mom everywhere and she called me Koloa. So- yeah. Koloa. A term of affection and endearment. My little duckling.” You brush a hand over her hair and she presses her head into your hand.

“I love that,” she whispers. “I’ll remember this time.” She looks up at you. “I promise I’ll remember this time if you’ll keep using it. I like it - you going back to that. Reminds me of the good old days.”

“The good old days,” you echo her softly. “Yeah.” You fall silent and she takes the opportunity to steal another bite before settling back in her seat.

“You doing good there, Bunny?” She nudges you playfully and you feel a warmth spread in your stomach that you’ve only gotten from good bourbon before. “Sorry,” she says suddenly, taking your contented silence for awkwardness. “I thought - since you called me- I could- sorry.”

“No, no,” you say in a rush. “I liked it. It’s just - you don’t remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Never mind,” you say softly. It’s not the right time. You smile at her reassuringly and she lets it go. “I like it when you call me that.” Y/n beams at you and you raise your glass of sparkling wine to hers. “To vacation. To taking care of ourselves.” She taps her plastic champagne flute against yours and you each drink from them.

“Honestly,” she moans later as she takes the first bite of lobster risotto, “you could tell me that the plane is turning around once we land in Santorini and the flight itself was the vacation and I’d still be so happy. This is incredible.” She looks at you with wide eyes. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For asking me to come with you.”

“Y/n, there is no one else I’d rather be here with,” you tell her sincerely. She breaks out in a large smile and flings her arms around your neck, pulling you into a hug that would be far less awkward if there weren’t plane seats involved. You wrap your arms around her waist and breathe her in, wishing you knew how to tell her.

-||-

“Y/n, honey,” you mumble, realizing that you both fell asleep. She’s tugged the blankets up and has her head nestled into your chest, and you’re curled around her with your head resting on hers. “Koloa,” you try again, running your fingers through her hair.

“Mmmph,” she whines, not lifting her head. “Bunny, that feels nice.” She scratches idly at your stomach and you flinch a little, realizing that if she keeps doing that and whining like that and calling you Bunny like that, you’re definitely going to get hard. “Oooh- sorry, did I hurt you?” She jerks her hand back when you flinch and you shake your head.

“No - ah, just took me by surprise.” You’re trying to reassure her and you realize you’re also trying to reassure yourself. You’re fine, you tell yourself. You’re not getting hard from your best friend’s touch. You’re not. Okay fine. You might be.

“Are we landing soon?” Her hand, her warm hand, is pressed again to your stomach and you focus on listing all the prime numbers you can think of in order.

“Uh huh,” you say softly, rolling your head back against the seat, wishing she knew what she was doing to you.

-||- POV shift -||-

You’re pressing your hand to his stomach, riveted by how in shape he is under the baggy hoodie. His stomach, taut and warm, is begging to be scratched and your inner voice is scolding you loudly to move your hand. You have no plans to move your hand.

“I hate landing more than takeoff,” you confess, and he opens both eyes to look at you.

“It’s going to be fine,” he tells you sincerely. “I promise.” You smile and -mostly- unintentionally stroke your hand back along his stomach before settling in your seat. He flinches again and shifts a little, closing his eyes and breathing hard.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” he says again, and you can’t help but feel that he’s lying. Your eyes dart over his face and you note how he’s biting his lower lip. You wonder briefly what it would be like to kiss him before internally screaming at yourself that he is emotionally exhausted and you cannot throw yourself at him, and even if you could, he’s your best friend and would reject you so fast that you’d get whiplash.

But- as long as his eyes are closed...you think to yourself - you might as well take the opportunity to him all in. You let your gaze creep lower and lower and finally you fixate on - no, you gasp silently. You blink once. Twice. Is he-? A little, you concede. He’s definitely not not hard, you think to yourself. Well. That’s interesting.

“Seatbelt on, duckling,” he says with his eyes still closed and his head still tipped back. “We’re landing really soon.” You nod even though he can’t see you and buckle up. “Good girl,” he murmurs when he hears the click and you’re so glad his eyes are closed and he doesn’t see you shiver in pleasure.

“Bunny?” Your voice is trembling and he turns to you instinctively. When his eyes meet yours, you reach for him. “Can I hold your hand during the landing too?” His face, already sweet and kind, softens even more and he offers you his hand. You squeeze it and he smiles, leaning in to brush his lips over your forehead.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he murmurs. His breath is warm on your skin and your heart moves up into your throat. “You’re gonna be fine,” Brendon tells you. “We’re gonna be fine.” You take a shaky breath and squeeze his hand tighter as the wheels come down and the plane starts to descend. You can’t bring yourself to look out the window but Brendon looks past you and wraps his free arm around your shoulders. “Just keep breathing,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good.”

“Fuck,” you hiss, eyes clenched shut. You really do hate landings. He whispers that he can see the ground and with his lips right at your ear, he counts down softly, letting your grip get tighter and tighter until the wheels are on the runway. “Done?” You whimper the question and Brendon nods.

“Done.” He squeezes your shoulders gently and you slump against him, finally breathing in full, steady breaths. “You did so good.” He runs his hand over your back and you wonder for a brief instant what his palms would feel like on your bare skin. You shake your head quickly to get rid of the thought but you can’t help it - you want him. You’ve got to distract yourself. You try to remember the most boring lectures for law school. Your heart rate slows and you sigh. You’re okay. “Now what?”

“Now we get off the plane and get our luggage and get a towncar. The drive is about 20, maybe 25 minutes.” He strokes your back again and you press into his touch. So much for being okay. “Then we’re at the hotel and then…” he trails off.

“Massages?” You look up hopefully and he nods.

“Massages. We’ll need to see if they can change our appointment, but -“ he hesitates. “It shouldn’t be an issue. I hope.”