#the length genuinely has me crashing out on this one. i understand it's a lot of feelings for her but . i would just like to Not

[enchaentingly]

        relief flutters weakly at his answer, but it doesn’t help to make her world any more vibrant, sharp, and clear. it’s still fuzzy. at least if he wanted to hurt her, it would’ve made sense. she knows she deserves it. there’s enough time for her to protest his claim, surely, not at all plagued by the confusion he keeps trying to tell her about. she is confused, but not about this. she’s confused, and heartbroken as to why he feels unwelcome. why he feels rejected and cast out, unwanted. she’s the only one to deserve feeling that way.  “ n- no, i do. i do want you here. you’ve been so kind, you have to let me thank you, i … there has to be something … ”  she needs him to understand, but allie can’t find any more words.

        she’s not as strong as she thinks. still sitting up, she presses her hands into the soft feeling of her covers, only finding sensation on one side. it’s not very grounding at all, the plushness sh underneath the searching pads. she squeezes her eyes shut, tries to keep from ruminating on the cycles of pain, and guilt soaked regret. the reality of the gore that stains her neck, and traveling down. it comes to the closure of half magic, half ruin. allie doesn’t have to comprehend the rapid signals her body sends her to know what she needs. her eyes open, cloudy with tears, falling in between one blink and the next. still, her gaze pulls to the sight of him, again. he looks so uncomfortable, grounding himself into the wood of the floor instead of anything else. her insides shred with the panic that something is wrong, and she can’t figure it out. there’s too much to go through. and he hasn’t given her anything besides the truth that he knew her mother and the urge to get home, and to be safe, without him. she watches his face, and can’t place anything but bravery and resolve. she remembers, when she had been closer to him, after the fall, she hadn’t heard his heart. she remembers seeing him flinch away from the open wound, bending. allie makes a desperate guess that would hush her prickling senses.

         everything after that feels like it could be happening all at the same time. he’s feeding her instructions with a stern voice that makes her feel just as small as he seems to remember, he turns, he’s going to leave. he’s going to leave. and he’s not going to come back, and neither will she, and now that the bleeding stopped, the pain turns bone dry and unsolved. every bit of her screams, even while allie knows she can’t. she can’t, but she does cry, and pours, all the same. frustration piles high in her so deep that she burns. she might even be angry, the ugliest feeling of all.  “ just- just, wait, please! ”  she does him the simple favor of not trying to stand again, but she shakes, ceaselessly, even without the movement of her limbs.  “ please. please, i haven’t seen her in- in seven years and i haven’t even come looking for her, this time. and you’re- you’re here. i don’t know anyone else that knows her, i’ve followed her everywhere i could, and- and her stories but none of it’s ever done anything and i … ”  her sob turns choked up, mangled. she doesn’t want it to leave, anyway.  “ i just want my mom. ”  in the leave of her grief, silence comes, and she can’t look at him any more. allie’s eyes, filled with tears, fall to her bare knees. somehow, she hadn’t skinned those. it doesn’t take long at all for the worry that he’ll go, anyway, take over the sadness, the emptiness. she has to do something.  “ i can close the wound, i can- so you can stay or- or you could come back, i just … i can’t lose you, i only just found you. ”  the flower flower, unlike the root, is stored on the other side of the bed. allie shoves this, too down her throat, anticipating the sour burn despite the sweetpea exterior, protests from something meant to be used on the outside, gone on the inside of something alive. it doesn’t matter, she knows she won’t mend fast enough for it to be worth it.  “ can you- can you come back? or … or leave something? so i can find you again? ”  again, her body’s greedy, sagging at the edge of her bed at the smallest notion of rest.

Frowning, Reid recognises the spike in her heartbeat. "I didn't get you all the way back here, to hurt you," Damn, he hopes he doesn't at the end of all this. She's putting ideas in his head, and he's squeezing his eyes shut, shunning the depraved imagery. It's been overwhelming enough without her fears dousing her with cortisol; it's a feral trait to know that like it's syrup in a coffee.

She barely understands what she's asking him. "You don't want me here," Statement. Fact. Her friend is supposed to be here, so it's not him burdened with responsibility. Reid finds he's in the gravity of too many witches. Some are familiar with dragging him through the rocky plains of hell and back. Even more than that like to see him squirm under the weight of his desperation.

He's close to crossing the room and stopping the young witch's movements. But he fixes himself still, feet rooted to the floor — almost like the magic in the house has curled around his boots and crawled inside his bones; claimed him as a piece in Allie's little realm.

It's odd, watching her magic at work. He's seen so much of it, years of it, in the futile search for a cure. But it's all very different from the next; no black-and-white law. No mantra that Reid's used to in which he's clear on everything. Once it has been as easy as right and wrong had once been. Witchcraft just a mess of energy that prickles against him; Allie's ingredients aren't like power that envelops the room. He's felt that too, from some. The monster chasing answers in the darker practices; grimoires in stacks at the apartment; frantic hunts for an answer to his affliction. All he's got from it is nightmares and memories of agony.

"Allie." He uses it again, so she might listen this time. The violence at her throat stops its weak trickle as the root and flower do its work but she's vulnerable. She's been that, this whole time.

His instructions are clearer, the second time: "Lay back down. Call your friend. Rest."

And then, he rips his boots up from the invisible binds that had him there for far too long. The cavern in his chest tells him it's wrong to leave her exposed, but he doesn't have another option. He can't stay.

Reid pivots, nodding towards the bed expectantly, as he turns to leave. "Take care."

[cloudbellsv3]

some of your posts actually got me thinking about these questions! i'm very curious how people feel about this sort of stuff, since my own fandom opinions are relatively mild and it got me wondering how other people's experiences compare...

so how about #'s 2 (for stony), #9 and #27 (other than frostshield??😉)

Thank you for the ask (and for creating the game)! Lol, I'm glad me and my inability to keep an opinion to myself was a part of the inspo <3 And sorry for the long wait!!!

2) What's your biggest stony pet peeve?

BIGGEST? Oh man, I'm not sure...Teenification of Tony Stark. He's written so...infantile and emotionally weak (I love vulnerability, but my word choice of him being written as weak is my gripe) in many Stony fics. It genuinely gets on my last nerve. He's damn near 40 in AV1. And he only gets older. And sure, maybe there's some arrested development there, but he isn't a damn child. He knows this. And actually conducts himself well enough in canon (in a way that matches his issues) but it's the fanon portrayal I don't like.

WAIT...I think I have something that's popular for the ship itself. Not very fan of the lengths that misunderstandings go for Steve and Tony...Like, I understand they aren't great at communication, but sometimes it gets to the point where I'm like, "It's passed dense and shot straight into pure asshole territory". I know a lot of people write like this because of CACW, but hot take, I don't think CW was so much of a communication or misunderstandings problem. I'll elaborate on this in a separate post, maybe. But the way misunderstandings are drawn out with seemingly no reason gets on my nerves, but it really depends. I can love misunderstandings, but it can't be something that's contrived for drama's sake.

Oh! Another one is in AUs where Steve was still Captain America, and Tony is still Iron Man, and Howard was still lovesick after Steve died and Tony knew all about Steve as a child....and then the AU has Steve undercover or something and Tony doesn't recognize Steve's face. LOL. This sounds specific, but this exact set up has happened enough to where it bothers me. Like, it's kind of funny though, how annoyed I get over it lmao.

9) What's something that bugs you in fanfiction that you encounter often but isn't necessarily a dealbreaker for you as a reader?

I have a lot of not-dealbreakers. Primarily because if I were to strictly stick to my vision of every possible portrayal, I'd have like 3 fics to read. I'm picky in theory, not so much in practice because I'm also extremely greedy. I'll give one each for Stucky and Stony.

Stucky: That Steve crashed the Valkyrie because he was so sad about Bucky dying. I talk a little about how much I generally dislike this trope here. I think it's a huge disservice to this character, I will never take it seriously, and I will never write it. But, it's not a dealbreaker as long as it's not repeatedly more than....let's say 3 times in a fic. Looking back, I already gave this answer, so an additional one - Bucky being community dick and then getting upset that Steve doesn't realize that Bucky wants him and the tone of the fic also supporting that Bucky has a right to be mad lol. It's a weirdly common narrative point in a lot of fics and I just don't care for it. It's actually one of the reasons I tend to stay away from pre-CATFA fics. This trope also happens in Stony too, now that I'm thinking about it. What's up with that?

Stony: I (unsurprisingly) have a few to choose from, but I'll say - when it's written like Steve was horrifically out of line or the aggressor in AV1. It's super common (from throwaway lines to paragraphs about how Steve was an asshole) and there is a fine line that this has to walk for me not to dip. Usually, it's a couple of line about it, which I can ignore.

27) What's something that you think [insert fandom/pairing] doesn't have nearly enough of that you're starving for?

I have an embarrassing amount of rare pairs that I ship and I've been itching for a chance to let them out (/ = romantic or sexual, & = platonic).

Steve & Wanda. Oh my goodness, I am absolutely starving for more fics that show their growing bond from AOU to CACW. I would eat it up. Even in AUs, honestly. I said in another ask that I dislike kidfics, but guess what I'm outlining right now involving kid!Wanda...I just think there is something to explore there with Steve's care towards Wanda in canon. I feel like he understands her, to an extent, and anything he doesn't understand, he tries to sympathize with. He reaches out to her and that's so, so important to me. Because I adore Wanda. So much.

Rumlow/Steve. I want to clarify, not so much as a romance pairing (though I have read a couple like that), but more so as a one-sided creepfest on Rumlow's end. Something about him feeling an erotized violence/hatred towards Steve is so delicious to me. In my mind, it's not even love/hate - it's obsession. Maybe even coupled with a childhood admiration morphing into a disturbed/twisted fixation on Steve. I think this Rumlow likes to see Steve hurt. I also think he hates to be kept away from him. He's not deluded enough to think that Steve loves him back, he in fact, probably loves how much Steve hates him after the Hydra reveal. Yum.

Carol & Steve. Nothing much to say here, but I'm sure it's not too surprising. Captain Marvel is my 2nd most-watched MCU movie after CATFA. And I think their stories and journeys and experiences are so, so amazingly similar that I cannot resist the temptation of wanting them to be in every scene together. The squeal I let out when she first met Steve probably broke a few records.

Can I get a little more obscure? I have Steve-ships with characters who aren't in the MCU. Here's a speedrun, no elaboration:

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)/Steve Rogers

Kushina (Naruto) & Steve Rogers

Sesshomaru (Inuyasha) /Steve Rogers

Ginko (Mushishi) & Steve Rogers

Epsilon (Pluto) & Steve Rogers

Kurenai/Steve/Asuma (Naruto).

Izaya Orihara (Durarara) & Steve....or Izaya/Steve...Izaya would hate him so much haha.

[elendsessor]

since i downloaded a shitton of region mods and got to retread some + added some more for my annual replay and got done with them all, gonna briefly list them and share some opinions!

-overall general flaw i do have with some is length. while cool to see such developed regions, some are longer than i think they should be. makes sense if they have multiple connecting areas (a “central hub” of sorts), but for straight shots idk feels like a lot of padding as good as the regions are.

-stormy coast: an example of the aforementioned length problem but man is it a wonderfully unique concept. love how it changes based on campaign and it is fun to explore! i want more regions that play into how the rain functions.

-coral caves: ooog so pretty!!! kinda weird to explore as saint due to how some paths are blocked off, and there’s a very evil echo location, but overall a pleasant time :)

-hanging gardens/preservatory: actually peak i’m obsessed with the latter and want more content for it holy shit???? definitely gives off the vibe playing vanilla rw has, especially in the endings. do wish there was a break point shelter midway through preservatory but i understand why not. just a lil difficult if trying to bring back the pearl, especially since there’s a guaranteed red lizard spawn in all campaigns. for hanging gardens proper, my only gripes are wonky shelter layouts and a couple kinda bullshit jumps.

-lush mire: the only one i didn’t like. absolutely gorgeous don’t get me wrong but insanely buggy and confusing to traverse. idk what interferes with it but music never plays, there’s an infinite loading screen issue, and the game crashes when sheltering. i’m sure it’s good to some and there was a lot of effort put in, yet for me, no matter how many times i did try and give it a go, it never ends up being a pleasant experience.

-pilgrim’s ascent: wonderful concept, good execution, not much to say.

-scorched district: it connects to metropolis :) another really needlessly convoluted region but otherwise a fun time! i like exploring atop pebble’s can……….

-far shore: stormy coast minus the weather, so a lot like spearmaster/arti’s iteration. same stuff down to critiques, but i love the volcano. really gorgeous and interesting set pieces here!

-mossy fields: WAHHHH SO PRETTY!!!! idk not much to say about it either but it is a lovely little experience. noodle eater my beloved.

-eventide: genuinely amazingly impressive. found this one via the trailer on youtube and turns out according to the creator’s yt bio they’re 14???? dunno if this is their first time making a region or not but they did super well. i need more truly eye candy locations. only issue is the music that plays because it’s uh. poorly mixed and kinda grating. if the ost was made by the modder i do have to give them props for trying. wish some rooms had a bit more space too. one of my favorites for sure, and i think it’s cool how much rw has influenced younger modders to try their hand! can’t wait to see how the creator’s skill evolves if they end up making more!

-steaming edifice: we need more fun regions. just ones with interesting gimmicks and minimal lore. the baby lizards are adorable too! there’s a couple bullshit jumps here and there but otherwise some of the most enjoyable platforming in any of these.

-fog gulch: oughhhh the atmosphere is on point and kudos to the track that’s just fart reverb and dog barks(?) it’s beautiful. some item textures need some better shading, and the amount of creatures that cause explosions is a bit annoying. the maraca spiders are especially egregious due to how numerous they are. definitely goes on a bit too long, but on a visual and conceptual level (plus the fog vultures), it nails it.

-forsaken station: i don’t have every area mod installed that connects but i love the aesthetic and design. pleasant to go through despite how confusing the map gets.

[kylejsugarman]

hi! i just finished watching the show and i cant quite understand walter's true feelings at times. it's hard for me to discern which of his actions were genuine and which were manipulative (particularly to jesse). 9 times out of 10, manipulative but i wanna know your take.

the scene in Confessions where walt """convinces""" jesse to leave town, why did walter hug him, cradling his head? was it his way of asking jesse for a favor? was it meant to be his goodbye hug because 'supposedly' this would be the last time he'll ever see jesse? was it to comfort an emotionally distressed jesse, with him realizing just how fucked up he is for manipulating jesse to do what he wants instead of being normal and ask him for a favor (which, i know is too fucking heavy for it to be called a favor) ????? or. was it simply just a manipulation tactic because he knows jesse will take the bait at that point?

somehow, i find the comfort hug thing as the least probable... but let me know if you disagree! i'm aware that walt could have more than one intentions but i wanna know what you think! this was long!!!! these stupid men just have such a fucked dynamic theyre like. a burning car crash I can't look away from

hey!! i hope u enjoyed the show :) as much as one can "enjoy" breaking bad lol, programs will be one of the greatest television shows of all time and also a roller coaster into ur own grave. to me, the hug is a little bit of both (manipulation + love). for all of walt's manipulation and careful dispensing of attention to make jesse come back for me, walt very clearly also Needed him and was attached to him in a strange way. i mean, we've seen the lengths he would go to just to get jesse back, both in a physical sense and on "his" side. in that moment, walt is giving jesse the one thing he's always wanted (a huge dose of uncensored paternal affection and love), which probably started as another tactic but was more colored by genuine emotion than a lot of his other so-called "paternal" gestures in that walt really was letting jesse go in a sense. again, ur totally right in that he probably had more than one intention and that we'll never Really know exactly what was going on in his head, but to me, that hug has always been like. walt is going to get jesse to do what he wants, he's going to feed him to the fire and this hug is another way of keeping him on that path because it's something that he's withheld from jesse for so long, but i truly do think some part of him was genuinely holding on. whether out of purely selfish interests or some glimmer of love, walt always Needed jesse.

[samspenandsword]

My dearest Sam, congratulations on your 300 followers! I know your blog is always a joy to catch up on, and I very often re-read many of your works. You deserve all the best! I raise my teacup to you and your future endeavors!

If you're not too busy, might I request a ship pairing please? I am 37, a she/her, and go by May. I love the forest moon of Endor or Alderaan if I had to pick a planet. My aesthetic is a very cluttered Light Academia style, and my appearance is tall, chin length blonde hair, blue eyes, my build is all arms and legs, athletic-ish. I'm usually listening to soundtracks. I love pasta and love making tea and toast as a snack. Baking is my current favorite hobby, but I also read, sew, dance, and run. Summer is my favorite season, but I like them all in their own way. I drink far too much tea. I can be timid, but I try to be friendly as much as possible. I'm loyal to my friends, always want to make them smile, and one of my favorite things is to make people their favorite dessert or treat just because.

Thank you again for your wonderful works!

Hi May!!! It's always so nice to see you in my notifs and inbox! Thank you so much for submitting, and I genuinely hope you like what I wrote! And I hope 2023 has been going well for you too!

Sam's Pen and Sword 300 Follower Celebration (Closed)

MAY'S FOLLOWER CELEBRATION REQUEST

Ship request 👄

When I was reading your request, I instantly thought of Obi-Wan Kenobi. The two of you both drink excessive amounts of tea, you're just his type (tall, thin, blue eyes, short blond hair), and he has a huge weakness for anything you cook or bake. The two of you like to talk about the things you've read recently over a plate of his favorite treats (I imagine it to be a selection of homemade shortbreads). You also introduced him to soundtracks, and though he admits that he's not the biggest music lover in the galaxy, soundtracks are a great deal better than the shit Anakin listens to. He has become particularly fond of soundtracks with lots of calm piano movements or lush string orchestras. He would love the opportunity to see you dance one day, even if it's just something you do for fun and exercize - he will never get tired of seeing you do things you enjoy. And he's adopted a habit of brushing his fingers over the seams where you've mended his clothes. In that way, you're always with him.

You tried your very best not to laugh as Obi-Wan paced across the living room, but you couldn't quite manage to conceal your amused smile. A book was held in your hands, a physical book with flimsi and binding, and you followed Obi-Wan's movements with your eyes, the open book raised to your smiling mouth. "- do not understand his inability to think before he acts. He's reckless! And did I mention that this was the third fighter he's crashed this week! I cannot -" A cup of tea and plate of shortbread cookies sat untouched on your coffee table, and you had learned that it was best to just let Obi-Wan get it out. Much like the padawan he was currently ranting about, it was best to just let him get it out. He'd feel better once he did and then he'd sit and take a sip of the just-perfectly-cooled tea, tension falling from his shoulders. And indeed, less than two minutes later, Obi-Wan fell onto the couch beside you, taking a long drink of the tea you'd made. The tension melted from him, and he leaned back, eyes closing with a little hum of appreciation. "Feel better?" you asked, still amused. "I know you're laughing at me." You were. You always took pleasure from Obi-Wan's little rants about Anakin. Not only because you knew he didn't mean a word of them, but because you found it endlessly funny how Obi-Wan could be so exasperated at the way Anakin put his all into his missions and battles, in a way he had learned from Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan, of course, failed to realize this. Anyone who knew better knew that Anakin was the way he was because he had learned from Obi-Wan. The man you loved could be as reckless as his former padawan. Leaping before he looked. Cutting once before measuring twice. Acting before considering. People heard Obi-Wan's eloquent words and saw his charming smiles and assumed he thought everything through before he acted. You knew better. So did anyone who knew Obi-Wan. Commander Cody and you had had more than one wine fest where the two of you laughed and bitched over how much Obi-Wan scolded Anakin for simply mirroring his own behaviors back at him. Those two, you mentally laughed. Closer than brothers. So close they just couldn't see how similar they really were. You swore one day you and Padme were going to lock the pair in a closet together and force them to air out all the words Obi-Wan was too restrained to say and all the confessions Anakin was too scared to trust his master and brother with. You and Padme liked to joke that Anakin and Obi-Wan confiding in each other would inevitably be what saved the galaxy from the war. Ah, if only. Obi-Wan, still perceiving your amusement, cracked an eye open and looked at you. You reached over and fondly brushed a lock of copper hair out of his face. "Something funny, my dear?" You knew he knew you were still laughing at him. But you simply smiled at him. "Happy to have you home, Obi-Wan." Obi-Wan smiled too. He leaned over and kissed you soundly. Tenderly. And with that, you knew he was glad to be home, too.

[mono-moonchilds]

Hi my request is smut with some angst, so jungkook and y/n are best friends and she's always been in love with him but he has a gf and never really seemed interested so she never told him how she felt. But one night he ends up in a fight with his gf and he comes to y/n they get drunk and end up hooking up but jungkook seemed to really want it but the next morning when she finally feels she can confess he just leaves her telling her he regrets it and chooses his gf instead of her saying he couldn't love her in that way can you make the ending angsty please

Thank you

→ Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy it!

→ Warnings: smut, angst, unprotected sex (don’t do the dummy like these two lol)

→ Word count: 2k+

“I just don’t get it.” Jungkook angrily slams his fist down on your bed. “I just don’t get her. Why the hell she acts like this. Treats me like I’m the fucking problem. When it’s her.” He sneers, bringing the beer you’d given him taking a long drag. “It’s always fucking her.” 

“I know kook,” You agreed not knowing what else to say. You looked at your best friend taking in his exasperated expression feeling bad for him. Leaning over you gently caressed his knuckles giving him a soft smile. “I’m sorry you even have to deal with stuff like this.” 

“Is it me, ____? Like what the hell am I doing wrong that it always comes to this. Every goddamn day it’s something. What am I doing?” 

You frowned. Nothing was Jungkook’s fault and you weren’t just saying that because he was your best friend. Jungkook was always trying to find different ways to please Yeona but it was never enough. She constantly found fault in anything he did, picking it apart tirelessly. Honestly, you weren’t even sure how they’d made it this far. Two years and three months of nothing but constant bickering and arguments that ended with Jungkook leaving his and Yeona’s shared apartment sometimes for days on end. 

Not that you were counting….You definitely weren’t counting.

“We’ve talked about this before. It’s not your fault Jungkook.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” You shook your head. “I would tell you if you’re being a dumbass and were in the wrong. I have no problem with doing that. For example, right now you’re being a dumbass for even attempting to blame yourself.” 

“It’s hard not to blame yourself when you don’t understand what is going wrong.” 

You knew exactly what was going wrong and it wasn’t Jungkook. It was Yeona. It was always Yeona but of course, you could never say that because Jungkook worshipped the ground she walked on. You got Jungkook’s little infatuation with Yeona. She was very beautiful, nice enough if you held a short surface-level conversation with her, but anything deeper than that the girl was a pain. 

“It doesn’t matter though,” Jungkook huffed, finishing off his beer. “It’s over. Two years of my life down the fucking drain.”

Your ears perked up at this. That was a first. You’d never heard Jungkook say anything like this. Not even when he was in deep with his rage with Yeona had he ever murmured or even insinuated that he would break up with her. 

“What do you mean?”

“What? I didn’t tell you.” He chuckled dryly. “Yeona fucking dumped my ass. Told me she couldn’t do this anymore. 

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry Jungkook.” You said trying your hardest to sound like you felt bad when in reality you felt the exact opposite. 

Of course, you were upset about this happening to Jungkook, he was a great person and even better boyfriend but you were on the other hand glad because this Yeona madness was coming to an end. 

Jungkook deserved better. He deserved a lot more. He deserved someone like-

“Yeah me too.” Jungkook sighed. His hand went up swiftly wiping under his eyes, hoping that you hadn’t seen but you had. You saw everything he did. Paid attention to each and every detail about him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His bunny teeth. The small mole on the back of his neck. Everything. He turned to you with sad eyes. “Can I stay here for a few days? Just till I get my stuff and figure some shit out.” 

“You know you don’t have to ask me that. You can stay here as long as you want.” Jungkook gave you a forced smile thanking you softly. You playfully rolled your eyes, shrugging him off. 

“You want another beer?” You asked and Jungkook nodded. Getting up from your bed you went to the kitchen grabbing two more beers.

 When you came back Jungkook was laid back on your bed comfortably staring up at the ceiling. You climbed next to him passing him his new beer. 

“Cuddles?” He asked after gulping down the drink halfway. 

“Hell yeah,” You agreed instantly making a giggle escape his lips. It was a beautiful sight. Jungkook had the best smile. “Big spoon or little spoon?” 

“Little,” 

You turned on your T.V flipping on a quick movie then got next to Jungkook. You leaned against the headboard while he laid on your belly allow you to rub and fiddle with his long hair. About mid-movie, you glanced down at Jungkook, just to check on how he was doing. Through the movie, you two had watched he’d barely moved an inch or said anything. Jungkook was already intently focused on your face. 

“What?” You laugh. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head. “You’re always there for me, ____,” Jungkook says. 

“Of course I am kook.”  You shrug, fingers still sliding through his neck-length hair. “. I’ll always be there for you.”

Jungkook shifted off your stomach so that now he was face to face looking at you. “Don’t you ever get tired? Listening to the same old shit.”

“I get tired of the way she treats you. But I’ll never be tired of listening to you. You listen to me and my shit. Plus I’d be a pretty crap friend if I let you go through certain things alone.” 

You weren’t expecting it. You really weren’t. The possibility of it happening sometimes graced your dreams but the chances of it happening in real life were something you’d never even entertained. 

Jungkook’s warm lips being pressed against yours. It’d genuinely caught you off guard. Your eyes are still wide open, and your heart pumping on overtime. Jungkook pulled away taking in your expression, interpreting it the wrong way, and immediately began to profusely apologize. 

“Fuck- Fuck ____, shit I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what came-”

You cut him off pulling him back close by his black shirt and pressed your lips back against his. Your mouths began to move frantically against each other. The kiss quickly turning from a peck to a semi-sloppy, heated passion-filled makeout. Your heart felt like it was about to damn near burst out your chest now. The thumping growing so hard you’d be surprised if Jungkook couldn’t hear it himself. Sneakily you took your hand and pinched your wrist.

Yep, this was real. This was really happening. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook. 

Jungkook’s body leaned against yours pushing you down so you were now laying against the bed. Everything felt hot. Your face, your body, Jungkook’s body, everywhere. You could barely even think properly the only thing being on your mind is Jungkook and not letting your lips disconnect. 

It’s not until you feel warm fingers graze across your abdomen, dangerously close to the hem of your shorts when your brought back to reality. You jump a little at the sensation and Jungkook notices pulling away. 

“I’m sorry.” He mutters looking away. “Too much?”

You shake your head immediately trying to assure him differently. “No, no. It’s okay. You just caught me off guard that’s all.” 

Jungkook sat back, eyes still cast elsewhere in the room. 

“I-I don’t want to stop.” You said shakily.  Jungkook finally looked over at you, curiosity and unsureness riddled in them. 

“Really?” 

You nodded. Jungkook leaned forward hovering back over you. 

“Are you really sure, ____?” Junkook repeated again and you nodded once more then added. 

“I want to do this. I want you.” You confessed. 

After almost ten years of holding that to yourself, it felt good to finally let it out. To finally have the courage to tell the man you’d been in love with for practically half your life how much you wanted him.

Jungkook didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to. His lips crashing back against yours were all the words you needed. His hands fell back to your waist, giving a testing rub before dipping his hands into your light blue cloud design-filled pajama short. His fingers ghosted across your cunt making you shiver at the light sensation.

“You are so wet,” Jungkook grumbled against your lips. 

Finally, he pushed his hand inside your panties gently rubbing at your sensitive clit. Your eyes fluttered close, soft short breaths escaping from your mouth You still couldn’t even believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that you finally had Jungkook in your arms and for once not only in a platonic way. 

Taking one single long digit Jungkook carefully pushed it into your cunt causing a breath moan to tumble off your tongue. Jungkook’s breath fans over your neck ever so often his lips coming into contact with your skin sucking and kissing on it. He stops for a brief moment pushing in another finger and you cry out even louder. The feeling of his fingers fucking into you at a moderate pace has your heels digging into the bed and legs trembling. 

“Kook-Kookie,” You moan out, fingers becoming tightly wrapped around his locks, holding his head close to your neck. Everything felt so good. Better than anything you’d imagined over the years.

When Jungkook’s finger pads brush against a certain spot you yelp out even louder in pleasure. “Right there.” You whisper. “Please don’t stop.” 

Jungkook obliges even more so by speeding up his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs against that spot until your legs begin to shake, tremors raking through it. You tugged unconsciously tugged at Jungkook’s hair even harder allowing the damn near blinding pleasure to take over. 

“Fuck, ____, “ Jungkook was grinning down at you when you finally open back up your eyes. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” 

You felt your face grow hot at the subtle praise, a dazed smile finding its way onto your lips. Carefully Jungkook pulled his fingers out, then climbed over you to stand up and pull his baggy sweat pants down. You could see the print of his hard thick cock pressed angrily against his cotton briefs. When he pulls his boxers down his cock bounces proudly in the air. You weren’t surprised by the size. One time a few years ago you were on his phone and were surprised with seeing his dick pics. That time you were shocked, but now excitement coursed through your veins. There it was. Thick, long, and pretty, and finally all for you. 

Jungkook climbed back on top of you, helping you shimmy off your panties before wrapping your legs around his waist. He took his cock rubbing it a few times against your slit before gingerly pushing himself inside. 

You moaned out loudly, his cock stretching you out way more than you were ever used to previously. Jungkook’s head fell into the crook of your neck, letting out a string of expletives as he as well basks in the pleasure of your velvety walls sucking him in slowly. For a moment you two didn’t move just taking in the moment, sprinkling kisses against the other. 

“Move please,” You finally whimpered out, and without saying anything else Jungkook obliged. 

His hips began to skillfully knock against yours somehow stretching you out even more with each heavy thrust. You cried, wrapping your legs tighter against Jungkook and holding his progressively sweaty body against yours. 

Everything was perfect. Felt just the way you’d imagined it for years. 

It didn’t take long before you felt your end coming near again. Digging in your nails, and grasping onto his shoulder you braced yourself for the flood of pleasure that was about to invade your body. When it comes it comes strong causing your eyes to roll back and your body to convulse on the bed. 

Almost as if he is as well triggered by your orgasm a few high-pitched groans fall into your ears, his hips beginning to move faster and faster until Jungkook comes, shooting his warm come into your sopping pussy. 

You both stay pressed together for a moment before Jungkook pulls out rolling onto the side next to you. His cum is leaking out of you, dripping onto the sheets but you don’t really care. Rolling on your side you cuddle against his chest. 

The room was quiet for a while. 

“Did you like it?” You peak up at Jungkook. His eyes are focused blankly in front of him. His expression is unreadable. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I loved it.” Jungkook announced. 

You smile snuggling closer to him. “Me too.”

You should’ve asked more questions, you really should’ve but instead, you closed your eyes and soon was lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat unbenounced to the mess that would greet you the next morning. 

When you wake up the next day it is to the sound of shuffling in the room. As you open your eyes you see Jungkook in a rush moving around your room shoving his foot into his pants.

“Kook,” You mumbled rubbing your eyes sitting up in bed. “Where are you going? Is everything okay?” 

An expletive fell from his mouth. “Yeona called.” He said simply.  

“Okay? Did something happen?” You asked, still not fully alert nor wanting to understand what was going on. 

“No. Well yeah. She asked me to come back home.”

At this you become alert. Eyes popping open. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, staring at the floor. 

“And you’re going to go back?” 

“Well...yeah….” He said as if it was obvious.

“But-but what about yesterday. Last night.”

“...it was fun.”

“That’s all it was...fun?” 

“What do you want me to say ____I love Yeona. What we did was fun but that’s all right?” 

You felt your heartbreak. It literally felt like it’d been shattered into many pieces and the number one perpetrator was Jeon Jungkook. You felt the tears burning in your eyes. Suddenly you were all too aware you felt the dry come stuck to your thighs and wanted to puke. 

“Go,” You chocked out. 

Jungkook listened. Didn’t even try to put up a fight. He just grabbed his shirt left out your room the front door of your apartment slamming behind him. You sat there for a moment, waiting for him to come back and say it was all a sick joke but he never did.

[nsfsprince]

Hold Me Close (And Watch Me Coast)

As a Dragon Hybrid, Roman’s body is easily twice as big as the average human’s, let alone Logan’s. So, it’s really no surprise that sex between the two with their vast size difference is.. incredibly intense.

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Wordcount: 1.5k

A/N: Sooo.. This fic is like, incredibly self-indulgent? There’s unfortunately little to no plot, just steamy activities and a an expansion on this au’s take on Roman, Remus, and Patton’s Human/Dragon hybrid anatomy.(and a guilty acknowledgement that this au is, at its baseline, all about the size difference kink by default akdladklj) This is technically their first time together, not counting the numerus times they ended up grinding against each other till they came. (also i’m like extremely nervous/embarrassed posting this aight)

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Size Kink/Size Difference Kink, no like this is Very Intense Take on Size Kink(you’ve been warned), edging, vague descriptions of distinctly Not Human Genitalia(that may get drawn later but shh), gentle but intense penetrative sex, heavy descriptions reflective of deep penetration kink(?), Roman doesn’t directly check in like he should but he’s watching over Logan’s reactions like a hawk, plus Logan is completely on board the entire time, Overstimulation, lots of dirty talk and praise. A slight deviation on how human anatomy works to avoid actual realistic bodily repercussions and maintain a willing suspension of disbelief. If I missed anything please let me know!

Additionally, thank you all for your encouragement to post this(or anything to this blog for that matter), it’s genuinely  appreciated and has helped so much!!

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Logan couldn’t help but squirm, his bound hands fisting the soft sheets of Roman’s nest as said Dragon oh so slowly fingered him open. Filthy praise had been dripping from Roman’s lips with every maddingly slow press into his entrance, the pads of his large fingers just barely toying with Logan’s prostate to keep him squirming and gasping.

They’d been at this for what felt like hours, though truly Logan really couldn’t be sure how long they had been at this. Every time Logan would near a peak, Roman would withdraw his fingers and press infuriatingly slow and soothing kisses to his shoulders until the peak had drifted far enough to begin again. It was pleasurable torture and Logan was losing his goddamn mind.

“When you promised you’d prep me, I didn't think it would mean ‘edge me to tears,’” Logan had groaned during one of those long pauses, having nearly come from the fourth thick finger prodding into his hole before Roman had pulled away.

“Oh love, you've never taken a cock as big as mine before, and trust me when I say I’m adamant to have you orgasm the moment you’re seated completely on my cock. Then, once you’re finally fully lax and loose from that first mind-melting orgasm, I’ll get to give you a real Dragon Railing. I'll pull out every single orgasm left inside of you and then another,

“I'll come inside again and again and fill you up so full. I’ll pleasure you till your orgasms dry and even then still pull just a few more 'til I know you'll still be feeling my Claim in you for weeks after.” The Dragon purred.

Logan visibly shuttered at the statement, his cock twitching in interest at the promise.

"Of course, there's also the added benefit of my Magic. It'll keep your body healthy and stable as I practically rearrange your guts over, and over, and over," Roman continued, a large hand cupping over Logan's weeping cock and giving it a tight teasing squeeze.

Logan's thighs trembled as Roman's re-slicked fingers pressed back inside, scissoring him open just that extra bit more as he laved a sharp kiss just behind his whining sub's ear.

Logan could scarcely understand it, just how much he wanted what Roman was promising, his half-hard cock eagerly dripping precum onto the soft sheets below. 

He knows that Roman is big, he's seen it at rest through Roman's likely purposefully tight trousers time and time again. He knows that even when soft, he could still easily choke on just the head alone. 

 It wasn't exactly surprising though, considering Roman was himself a Dragon/Human Hybrid, and thus his entire body was at least twice as large as Logan, if not more. At a staggering 6'10", Roman's broad and muscular stature easily dwarfed Logan's stout 5'4" body, right down to the size of their cocks.

He also knows full well that it is going to ruin him mentally, knowing he'll never be satisfied with anything other than Roman. Maybe Logan just has a bit of a thing for his lover's size at this point, or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just loves anything and everything that's Roman. He doesn't mind that fact either, seeing as Roman is the only one he's ever loved like this, and is the only one he plans to spend the rest of his life with anyway.

 And he was more sure than ever, laying there pinned and having been edged to hell and back for who knew how long, that he desperately wanted Roman to utterly ruin him with his monstrous cock.

For a moment his entire worldview narrowed down to those four large fingers thrusting back and forth into his hole, now unhesitatingly stimulating his prostate. He keened and cried out, unable to buck into it with Roman's free hand keeping his hips in an iron grasp.

Right as he felt the now familiar feeling of his peak readying to crash down around him once more, Roman pulled out and away all together.

He let out a confused whine at the complete loss of his lover's weight over him, unable to look or move to find him with his arms still bound under him.

"Shh, shh, I'm right here my little mouse. I haven't left you," the Dragon soothed softly, briefly resting a grounding hand on the dip between Logan’s shoulders as the sound of shuffling clothing and slick movements filled the air.

All at once, Roman's weight returned, and Logan found his knees pushed apart by Roman's own coming to press in between them. Roman's scaled bare chest pressed searingly hot against Logan's own similarly unclothed torso, his large muscled arms bracketing in Logan's chest and shoulders on either side. His head dropped, pressing a gentle soothing kiss to his favorite spot near the crook of Logan's neck.

Any words Logan had been planning to say were flushed out with the shuttering gasp that escaped him. His thoughts scrambling as the thick unusually tapered head of Roman's slick cock rubbed teasingly against his hole for a moment or two, before finally, finally starting to sink inside.

Logan could not be faulted for the absolutely embarrassing keen that escaped him when Roman's hips gradually bore down with all his weight to sink his cock inside. He could feel through where their back and chest met how Roman’s chest was rumbling with a deeply pleased, nearly subsonic growl.

"Relax, little mouse, you're still so tight inside love. How am I going to bounce you on my cock soon if you don't relax?" Roman purred, one arm curling around and pulling up Logan's hips to ease the other's strain, "Think about how good it'll feel once I'm fully inside. Good little mouse, that's it, relax."

The prince found himself whimpering helplessly, his trembling back arching and shaking knees trying to spread wider to accommodate for the Dragon's unyielding massive cock. Roman's four thick fingers had just barely opened him up enough to actually keep it from being truly painful, barely keeping it to just a deep pleasurable ache. 

It was all he could do to keep his trembling body lax, barely restraining himself from clenching down when inch after ribbed inch proved thicker than the last. Even wilder, he could still feel where the large tapered head was inside, spearing deeper than Logan had ever thought he was capable of experiencing- And the length still just kept coming.

 It felt like ages before Roman finally buried his cock as far as it would go without continuing any painful forcing. Logan's hard little cock was weeping precum steadily, the other's monster of a cock pressing relentlessly into every sweet spot he didn't even know existed.

Roman finally stills, lightly worrying a few hickies into the skin of Logan's shoulders and throat with his teeth, waiting for Logan to adjust.

The prince could barely tell how he felt. it was undeniably heady, at least, to feel his lover so deep that his stomach ached in protest. His upper torso alongside his jaw had gone lax in pure awe, eyes screwed shut as his trembling legs were now completely useless at keeping him up. If it weren't for Roman's strong arm holding his hips up, Logan probably would have collapsed completely to the floor by now. That is, unless the other's massive cock could have ended up also keeping his poor hips in place, if given the chance that it remained stuck inside. An experiment for another day, surely.

"How are you feeling, love?" Roman purred, his voice cautious and calculating.

"Hnng" Logan keened artfully in response, clenching around the others cock in retaliation. He wouldn't see Roman's pleased grin in response, too deep in subspace and blissed out to suspect his lover's next act of mischief.

"Good boy, being so good for me. Alright then, going up!" Roman purred deviously.

Suddenly Logan found his entire body shifting as Roman pinned him to his chest and pulled him upright onto his lap. The Dragon settled down to the floor just enough to still maintain their balance as he let gravity pull Logan back down onto his cock.

The momentum that carried him pulled him perfectly back down the inch and a half he'd lost on the way up, before pressing him even further down as his weight additionally settled into position over the others cock.

That deep protesting ache in his stomach returned twice as loud from the sharp prodding the head of Roman's cock gave. It made Logan want to squirm away for the sharp few overwhelming seconds that he was stuck feeling it before suddenly feeling Roman’s hands press down on his hips. His head jerked back with a strangled moan as the tip of Roman's cock testingly pressed even deeper at the action.

And then Logan finds his hips suddenly flush with Roman's and the last inch and a half of Roman's cock plunging completely inside him. The deep ache that had sharpened with the final push was suddenly overwhelming his senses, and was inexplicably starting to feel really fucking good now as the head of the others cock seemed to finally manage and get.. even deeper, somehow. 

Logan's hips instinctually jerk after a moment, purely overwhelmed with the cacophony of signals being sent to his brain, finally spiking that deep ache into a kaleidoscope of pure oversensitive pleasure. Before he can even really process the feeling it has him practically shouting Roman's name as he peaks harshly and comes all over his heaving chest and twitching hips.

Roman's hands pin their hips together, rutting slowly to continue carefully stimulating Logan's trembling body through his first orgasm. Eventually he paused to let Logan collapse against his chest, the prince obviously lost to his fucked-out bliss.

"We've only just gotten started, are you spent so soon, little Mouse?" Roman purred delightedly.

Logan just whimpered, dazedly shaking his head and spreading his legs once more even as it created a feedback loop with that terrible, wonderful, blissful ache.

"Good Boy."

[etherealxgenie]

Why Adrien is Better off Gay/Bi/Pan || Miraculous, Why?

(Before I begin, note that this is my opinion over the topic and am no way am bashing anyone’s love for the ship and/or character. I respect who and what you like, therefore expect the same courtesy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please click the back button as this will be a heavily discussed topic. No flames allowed. Other than that, enjoy.)

I’m afraid I have to address the elephant in the room. Of how the hetero pairings for Adrien are about as real as Twilight. Sometimes it makes me wonder if Thomas Astruc looked at the ships in the end of Naruto and though… makes sense? That’s a long shot convo for another day.

I’m going to take the time in this chat to discuss why each female who has an interest in Adrien has no chance of having a healthy relationship with him and to why male characters have better chances! Let’s look at the girls one by once.

Lila: Let’s start with the obvious. Lila is clearly not interested in Adrien for his personality, but merely for the good looks and fame. She really hasn’t demonstrated any behavior that she cares for him genuinely and hangs off of him constantly as a possession. It’s clear Lila sets her eyes on Adrien because he’s famous, popular and wants him as a trophy husband. Lila is pretty toxic on her own to go so far as to sneak in and stalk Adrien. What’s worse is that she now has Gabriel’s permission to do so. If he were to be paired with Lila, it’ll break him and be nothing but hell.

Chloe: While it shows itself that Adrien has only platonic feelings for Chloe, she still hopes for something more. Adrien cares deeply for Chloe because he was her first friend, though it’s obvious Chloe wants more. Though Chloe has a mean streak and a possessive behavior where she tends to be cruel to people aside from Adrien and expects to get away with it every time. With the behavior she gets from being spoiled and trying to live up to her mother, would it be farfetched to say a future marriage between these two would be like Audrey/Andre? I don’t think so. Plus, she forgets his birthday. What kind of friend does that?

Kagami: Not going to lie, out of all the pairs, Kagami does have the most potential to be paired with Adrien. She meets him through fencing, they get time to know each other and they slowly start to grow as friend. However, that just about ends when it comes to such as Kagami is another girl who takes it a step too far. Like Chloe, Kagami follows too much in her mother’s footsteps and also is overly aggressive and competitive. She looks to quickly claim Adrien because they’re ‘perfect’, which is a word Adrien hates a lot under his façade. She’s gets possessive around other girls near Adrien and moves too quickly, also forcing Adrien to make his decisions as if he doesn’t have the time to decide.

And last…

Marinette: Marinette… in a way is a small combination of the girls combine. No doubt she’s sweet, shy and tries help at times when matters. BUT she’s also obsessive, possessive, and hypocritical. Things a potential yandere usually becomes. She invades Adrien’s privacy, stalks him, and steals from him more so than Lila. She doesn’t mind crossing boundaries as far as doing illegal acts such as breaking into his locker, copying his schedule? How even. She also tried to confess to Adrien on the day his mother disappeared/died which is a time for MOURNING and COMFORT! She also has no problems calling other people out on this behavior, yet she does the same things. Hypocrisy is never a good color to wear.

Not to mention she only is ‘in love’ with one side of him. As Ladybug, which is important, she tends to put him down as Chat Noir, doesn’t give him proper respect in public and doesn’t include him with important matters, especially with Master Fu. She treats him as his sidekick rather than his partner and leaves him in the dark. She thinks of herself as Batman and him Robin. If you read the comics or watch some of DC shows, you know how well THAT goes. Marinette cannot love Adrien without loving and respecting him as Adrien AND Chat.

Granted, she’s not the only girl who treats Chat badly, but she is supposed to be his ‘partner’ so… yeah.

For these girls it wouldn’t make sense. Not to mention at least once, the girls tend to make Adrien uncomfortable holding him on his arm and such. They don’t act like they care of Adrien’s well being at all (except for Kagami sometimes), but make him to be some prized to be won. Forced shipping is toxic shipping.

I can gladly blame the poor writing on the show, but pretty much it did it’s damage enough for me to say I cannot or will not romantically ship these girls with Adrien. If there were potential girls, girls like Rose, Juleka heck even Alix, but it’s safe to say that’s out of the question.

You know who DOES have the more potential, though? The boys.

Yes. As we take a chance to look at the friends he bonds with, its easy to say Adrien is more comfortable around the guys. The party before it was crashed, the video game tournament, these are just a few that aren’t shown often but do show more of Adrien’s comfort level. What guys you ask?

A perfect example for a ‘friends to lover’ romance would be Nino for example. He starts off subtly and gets to know Adrien from the start, not showing any animosity after the misunderstanding with Adrien and his childhood friend, Marinette. Nino also goes through lengths to help Adrien as far as to stand up to Gabriel to give Adrien a friggin’ birthday party! And got akumatized for it. Adrien also shows to go through the same lengths to help Nino hook up with Marinette so far as to set him up alone in the zoo. Nino is sweet, caring and he works well with Chat.

Another potential love interest (my personal OTP), Luka. From the get-go of how they met from a trip accident, Luka greets Adrien with kindness and welcomes him to the group in Captain Hardrock. In ‘Desperada’, that same friendliness still holds as Luka trust Adrien with his guitar, his most prize possession. Luka also does his best to keep Adrien safe and hidden away as Adrien returns the favor to save Luka from getting hit. Don’t push me about the locker scene because there are MULTITUDINOUS ways of how I can make so many ‘In the closet’ references. Also, that wink Chat gave, and the look Luka had? Need I say more? Good. And let’s not forget the icing on the cake and keep in mind to remember:

Adrien chose Luka to wield the Snake miraculous. ADRIEN, not ladybug, chose LUKA. Not to mention the fact, as Viperion, he was eager to work with Chat the moment they met and has nothing but good working with him as a teammate. That’s a bonus.

Many fans of the show try to depict them as rivals for Marinette, but only Luka shows that interest in which Marinette doesn’t really accept because of her obsession with Adrien. To make Adrien ‘jealous’ is really out of character, but another topic I’ll cover.

Truthfully, it would be an interesting twist of all the girls pushed up against Adrien, he would turn around and go for the cute guitarist or starts talking about how cute the guy is! Tell me that Degrassi twist wouldn’t add some good drama.

Overall, the show demonstrates so far that most of the girls for Adrien doesn’t really possess healthy qualities for Adrien to have a good future. The boys give him a more comfortable understanding a gentle nature for a kid like Adrien. You could pair him up with Ivan or Max and Adrien would STILL have more chemistry than them. Note that he’s sheltered, and we have no clue off what other mannerism he was raised on or how truly strict Gabriel and Nathalie are. Hell, we don’t even know how it was like when Emilie was even around.

But for any relationship to work, friendship before romance. Slow but steady at the pace both parties can go. People including Adrien, need that.

[magicforjournals]

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki) Chapter two : That was unusual

Warning : A little teasing, a lot of fluff and kissing.

So that’s him. That’s Loki.

Why are you not bothered by his presence? He’s supposed to be the bad guy, no? Why are you so captivated by his eyes? All you want to do is run your fingers through his hair and feel his lips on your skin. Why are you feeling like this?!

Pepper tugs on your hand, bringing you back to reality. “Come on, let’s go get a drink,” she nudges you slightly towards the bar. You need a drink, and a stiff one at that. The feeling that came over you when you locked eyes with Loki, that had never happened to you. You don’t register that Pepper has let go of your hand, still walking in the direction of the bar, when you almost run into someone, full force. Two strong hands grip your waist, stopping you from toppling over, and you look up to meet those beautiful eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there.” You say, quickly stepping away from his electrifying touch.

“It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Loki answers. His voice is deep and his accent makes your lower belly hurt for more. You want to hear him talk forever. “I’m Loki,” he says, stretching his right hand out to you.

You reach out to shake his hand, giving him your name and getting goosebumps as your skin touches his. This man surely has you under some kind of spell, right? You had heard his brother talk about his magic once before, when you had come over to see Nat after a mission.

“You’re not an avenger, are you?” He smiles down at you, a dimple showing and his voice resonating inside of you.

“Oh no, no. I’m a teacher actually, but Natasha is my best friend and I’m here often, more than my own home,” you giggle, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. He is tall. And so handsome. Why are you giving this man all this information about yourself? You need to get away from him and his irresistible eyes, you think as you lower your gaze.

He reaches down for your chin with his right hand and gently lifts your face up again to look into your eyes, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“A teacher, that’s interesting!” He says softly. You hear Nat call your name from the bar. “Your friend is waiting, I hope to see more of you soon.” He says with a wink and walks away. See more of me soon, what the hell does that mean?! You’re shaking your head as you walk over to the bar, trying to get rid of the haze that took over while you were next to him. This isn’t natural, there’s something else going on.

“I see you’ve met Loki,” Nat says as she hands you your favorite drink. “What do you think? And why are you blushing?!” You were blushing?! You slap a hand to your face and feel the heat of your cheek. Well, that’s unusual. You take a big sip of your drink, almost finishing it.

“Nat, I think Loki might have me under a spell or something.” You whisper to her.

“What do you mean?” She asks, growing concerned.

“I don’t know. I can’t stop looking into his eyes whenever I’m next to him. We shook hands and it was almost... electric when his skin touched mine. I can’t think straight right now.”

“Either he put a spell on you or you’re into him.” Pepper giggles.

Attracted to Loki. You did want to feel his hands on you again, be near him, touch him… maybe you did want him.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Nat replies. “It’s Loki, God of mischief! I wasn’t thrilled with Thor bringing him here tonight in the first place. Please just be careful around him, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t trust him.” She holds your hand and gives it a small squeeze. You know she’s right and she only wants what’s best for you. Loki had been the villain for so long now that it was hard for everyone to trust him. You smile at Nat and squeeze her hand back.

Sometime later, you are all sitting on the couches, just chatting. The men are arguing about who is the strongest, as usual, and other Avengers stuff you don’t really care about. You notice that your drink is empty, and you get up to go to the bar.

As you wait for the bartender to mix you another one, Bucky leans over the counter next to you and grabs a beer. “Hi,” he says as he pops the top off.

“Hey Buck, how are you?” You reply with a smile.

“I’m good, how have you been? Everything still going ok at school?” Just like Nat, Bucky was always curious about your job. You think that it possibly brings him some comfort, being friends with someone with a normal life and a normal job.

“I’ve been good, school too. My students are amazing, so smart. Potential Avengers maybe!” You say as you wink.

“We’re in trouble if they’re your students though!” Bucky chuckles, “Listen, I don’t usually beat around the bush with you, so I’ll just say it. I didn’t like seeing you with Loki earlier. I don’t like him and I don’t want him near you or even to touch you again.” He adds. Oh, he’s serious... he’s doing his staring thing.

Ok, people really don’t like Loki around here. You can understand that, however.

“Oh,” you gasp. “I understand, Buck.”

“I just want you to be safe,” he says with a sweet smile, putting a gentle hand on your arms and rubbing little circles with his thumb.

You look down at his hand, moving your eyes up to his face and you see that he’s looking at you, a strange sparkle in his eyes.

“You look nice tonight, by the way. I like the dress,” he adds. A burning hot heat floods your cheeks for the second time tonight and you dip your head whispering a thank you. He smiles at you and walks away to go sit back with Steve.

You grab your drink and head back to your spot next to Pepper. You notice that Steve is staring at you as he sips on his beer, and you wonder what the hell he wants. The party goes on, you guys keep talking and arguing, and Maria opens her presents. You’re having a good time.

As you get up to go to the washroom, you again feel Steve’s eyes on you and you quickly get annoyed. That staring bit is just getting old at this point. Why is he looking at you like that? He was the one who had made it clear he didn’t want to get involved in any sort of relationship, and he’s been eyeing you down like you’re a piece of candy he can’t wait to unwrap. It’s infuriating. Once locked away from the world, you walk to the sink, splashing cold water down your arms in an effort to calm you down. He’s probably had one too many beers, just let it go, you try to tell yourself. Once you’ve successfully calmed yourself down, you’re on your way out, when you, once again, bump into Loki.

“Hi”, he says with a crooked smile, wrapping his arm around your waist to keep you from stumbling over your own feet. You’ve never been this clumsy, but around him, it’s like you can’t find your footing.

“Hey,” You reply, squirming out of his hold. “Washroom’s free!” Stupid thing to say, you think to yourself.

“Ah, thanks,” Loki replies.

“No problem!” You say back, feeling like a complete idiot.

“Can I be honest with you?” he then adds after a brief moment of silence.

“Yes, of course!” you say, too quickly.

“I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of you tonight.” He says suddenly, slowly walking towards you, making you move instinctually back against the wall. He presses one hand against the wall next to your head and looks down at you. You knew he was tall, but he is towering above you. He’s taller than Steve, you think. Having him so close to you, you can feel the warmth of his body through his black shirt. Your eyes fall to his shoulder, following the length of his arm, and you see that he’s rolled up his sleeves, his pale, toned forearms clashing with the colour of the thin material. “There is something so… so intriguing about you”, he adds, and your eyes flash up to his face, so close to yours. You can taste his breath on your lips, mint and alcohol mixed together, and you have to hold yourself back from wanting a better taste. His eyes are gazing into yours, and you fall into the deep ocean before you. He lifts his other hand and caresses your cheek softly.

“I’m not that special,” you gasp as he touches your skin.

“I think you are. As I said, I have had a very, very hard time keeping my eyes off of you,” he whispers. ‘“You look ravishing in this dress. I have to admit, I have a weakness for the colour green, and it suits you just wonderfully.” He brushes the hair off your shoulder and traces his finger along the curve of it. “I know that everyone fears me, but you don’t seem afraid. Are you?”

“No, I don’t find you scary.” You whisper against his skin.

“You don’t think of me as the villain?” He asks, genuinely surprised.

“I don’t know…” You say with a frown. “I think you were maybe misunderstood a lot and y-you don’t know how to express yourself,” you answer him honestly.

Then, without any warning, Loki crashes his lips against yours. You should be pushing him away, but his kiss is tender and passionate, his lips intoxicating and you just cave in. You moan against his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck, and Loki responds by dropping his hands to your waist and pulling you in tight against his body. You shiver as you feel the tip of his tongue against your lower lip, licking slowly, begging for access. Moaning again, you part your lips and let him in, his kisses becoming increasingly desperate as he groans in pleasure in your mouth. You can feel him getting harder against your stomach. You hadn’t realized how much you needed - no - you craved him. You’re the one to break up the kiss, gasping for air. As you close your eyes and tilt your head back against the wall, you get a glimpse of Loki’s swollen lips and you can’t help but moan softly. Eager to taste you again, Loki drops his head to your neck, kissing and biting as he makes his way up to your ear, running his hands over your body. He takes your ear lobe between his teeth, nibbling gently and whispering just how beautiful you are, how much he needs you. His words and voice reverberating in the very pit of your stomach, making you pant as a throbbing heat makes you clench around nothing.

“Loki,” you moan his name. “Not here, not now.” You gather all the strength you have to put a weak hand on his chest, not to push him away, but to let him know you’re about to lose it here in this hallway. He slowly lets go of his grip around your waist and rests his forehead against yours, taking in your scent.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, “I don’t know what came over me, but I had to kiss you. It won’t happen again, unless you ask me to.”

Those sweet words turn you into a puddle and you reach for his lips, needing to feel their softness again. This time, he kisses you gently, wrapping a careful hand around your face before breaking your embrace.

“You should go back before one of them comes looking for you,” Loki whispers against your lips. “We’ll see each other soon, I promise.” He kisses you once more and goes into the washroom.

As you stand in the hallway, your fingers against your swollen lips, you can’t stop yourself from smiling. What just happened? Did you just kiss Loki Laufeyson? No, no. Did Loki Laufeyson just kiss you?! You were alone now and craved his touch, more than you’ve craved anything else in your life.

You tried to fix your hair and dress quickly, and made your way back to Nat, who was getting anxious. As you sat with your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about Loki’s lips, his touch, the way he held you tight, and the heat and dampness between your legs returned. You were aching for more of him. You looked around the room and found him smirking at you while in conversation with his brother. Blushing instantly, you squirmed in your seat and saw, out of the corner of your eye, Steve noticing the silent interaction, his face stoic as ever. And that, that was unusual for Captain America.

[iamanartichoke]

[please blacklist spoiler tags: #loki tv series spoilers, #loki series spoilers, #loki spoilers]

Yes, I did just watch episode 2 at 5:30 in the morning.

No, I am not sorry. Not at the moment, although when I inevitably crash later this afternoon, I will be.

Just some very, very quick - and scattered and messy - thoughts: That is a straight up lie; they’re definitely scattered and messy but not very quick at all.

Under the cut for spoilers and length.

I’m going to start with Loki’s characterization. My honest opinion is that Loki’s overall characterization feels like a fic characterization. He definitely is not Avengers Loki, like, at all. I don't know if Tom just, like, forgot how to play that Loki or ...?? That, or Loki was so much more mind-controlled than we realized and getting hulk-smashed just completely reset him back to zero but also fucked him up a little bit and affected his personality, kind of like how some people completely develop weird new personality quirks after a traumatic brain injury.

… yeah, I think that’s where I’m gonna land for now. TV series!Loki feels like a more-or-less canon version of Loki, but if that Loki got hit in the head really hard and now he’s just a little bit fucked up but overall no worse for the wear. Which - it may be that it’s so early in the morning, but that’s actually really fucking funny to me, lmao. God, I kill me. It’s not funny.

No, but, that’s pretty much how I feel. He’s ooc but he’s also ic, and the reason I’m not particularly bothered by the inconsistency, for lack of a better word, is because that’s what pretty much every fic Loki already feels like to me? (Including my own, so I’m not, like, saying that in a derogatory way.) Which is why I say Loki feels like a fic!Loki and to try to explain it better - there is always, for me, a little suspension of disbelief that I employ when I read fic. The reason for that is because the context, the plot, and the dynamics of the fic are usually pretty different than what we ever get in canon, so it becomes a matter of taking film!Loki and, like, bending him a bit in order to fit him into the perimeters of the fic.

The result ends up being that I don’t see the exact Avengers!Loki or TDW!Loki, and thus by definition the portrayal is ooc, but the version that I do see feels like a genuine extension of the canon version, possessing enough of Loki’s overall traits and characteristics that he feels authentic, albeit a bit pretzeled for the new context.

I honestly think that’s something that’s unavoidable, just due to the fact that in fic - and now, in this series - there are a lot more variables at play than there are in the films, wherein Loki is not just a supporting character but also the villain/antagonist and is therefore very limited in what he does/what the narrative allows him to do. When those limitations are taken away, what are we going to see? Probably a lot of different things, and yeah, a lot of them are going to feel a little ooc. And, like in fic, even if the characterization mostly lands, there are definitely bits and pieces (some fics more than others lean this way) where the author didn’t stick the landing or got carried away or otherwise probably forgot for a while that they were writing Loki, not their own OC.

That’s the point where it strays into cringe territory for me (and where the ‘heh, he’s Loki but with a brain injury’ aspect comes in), but while I had to consciously decide to just ignore those moments, overall the tone in this episode felt a bit more balanced between the new, the old, and the cringe, and less whiplash-y from the beginning of the episode to the end.

… I have no idea if that makes sense, but what I’m basically saying is that while I am enjoying this version of Loki, I do recognize all of the ways he’s ooc but, unlike how I feel about Ragnarok!Loki, the ooc-ness feels genuine and unavoidable rather than just a fundamental and careless misunderstanding of the character altogether. In other words, I feel like any ooc-ness here is happening despite the writers taking care to do their best, and isn’t just a result of Loki being lazily written by a person or persons who just doesn’t want to bother with him at all.

Again, I don’t know if that makes sense, but fuck it, there we are and I’m moving on.

I liked all of the little details, including again, things that felt straight out of fic, like Loki asking Mobius why he has the jetski magazine. (Also, if any of my thorki friends read this, was I the only one who noticed that when we see Loki reading the magazine, it just happens to be open to a page with a picture featuring a jet skier who looks like Thor? l.m.a.o.)

Loki interrupting things to explain the difference between illusions vs the other power (I can’t remember which one, off hand, and if I stop writing to go look it up I will lose my train of thought and not finish this) was great, but his overall input and contributions to the missions inspired very mixed feelings for me. On the one hand, I loved that the narrative, via Loki, is reminding us of all these things that he’s capable of that the films generally left out or brushed aside or ignored - but, every time he spoke, he was met with eye rolls and sighs and just a general feeling of “someone please shut this guy up” and I didn’t like the narrative treating him that way.

But also, it’s understandable bc none of the people on his team are actually on his team. None of them want him there (story of Loki’s fucking life), none of them trust him, and none of them are particularly interested in hearing what he has to say. So it’s like, I understand why they reacted the way they did, and I don’t think their reactions are meant to support an overall narrative undermining of Loki’s skills and input - but, the tone is hard to read for me bc I am very defensive and protective of Loki. I can’t quite determine the line between the TVA agents being unreliable narrators (ie, they’re annoyed by Loki bc of who he is to them, but that doesn’t mean the audience is supposed to feel the same) and the TVA agents validating that Loki is just being a nuisance (and, thus, the audience is supposed to feel the same).

That is, I know how I am consuming the narrative (that they’re unreliable narrators), but I’m not sure if that’s how tptb are intending for me to consume the narrative - and I guess it doesn’t really matter, but it’s worth mentioning.

In general, I really liked, again, Loki existing in his own space and watching the way he carried himself. I especially found it interesting that his hands were almost always in his pockets - for one thing it's a stance I tend to imagine him taking often in fic, but also it’s kind of a weird choice bc pockets don’t seem to be a thing in Asgardian clothing. It makes me feel like Loki is the kind of person who never knows what to do with his hands but is always conscious of them, as is common among anxious and self-conscious people, and I just find that relatable on a weird level.

I am really kinda torn on Mobius in this episode; when not interrogating Loki, he’s much less antagonistic toward Loki and therefore I’m more inclined to take-him-or-leave-him but I’ll go ahead and take him I guess. Yet at the same time, bc he’s not interrogating Loki he’s also not trying to put on a show for Loki and when you take that away, he really doesn’t seem to like Loki at all. It supports that Mobius only wants what Loki can do for him and doesn’t actually particularly care about him as a person, which is fine and more or less what I figured, but it contributes to me not really being able to decide how I feel about him in general. Idk, though, I kinda like their dynamic? Like I want them to end up friends?

Regardless, Tom and Owen have amazing chemistry and it’s really funny to me bc (not to be a jerk) I honestly didn’t know Owen Wilson could act. Like, I’ve never seen him in a role where he wasn’t just playing Owen Wilson. So for him to not only be playing Mobius so well but also having such chemistry and a sense of holding-his-own against Tom Hiddleston is like, color me surprised but pleasantly so.

I like B-15 a lot, even though she obviously hates Loki, so idk why I like her but I do. I like Renslayer less, but meh. (Side note - when I was in undergrad in Syracuse, I took the Amtrak from Syracuse to Boston and back more than a few times, for reasons that aren’t relevant, and that route always had a layover at Albany-Rensselaer and every single time I see Renslayer’s name, I want to call her Rensselaer instead.) Shout out to the guest appearance by Casey, sorry Loki stole your juice lmfao.

The moments from the trailer that were very cringe were less so in context (though still kinda cringe, tbh). I think we’ve seen most of the content from the trailers in the first two episodes now, though, which means going forward, it’s going to be like 95% previously unseen material (aside from the brief apocalyptic shots and so forth).

One thing I fucking loved was how Loki, reading about Ragnarok, was visibly affected and even teared up a bit, and you could tell he was in his feels about it, but then later when Mobius expresses sympathy, Loki is just like, “Uh huh, very sad, but anyway.” It was a subtle (well maybe not that subtle) but effective way to remind us that what Loki presents to other people is more often than not a mask and he keeps his true feelings close to the chest. It makes last week’s breakdown have even more of an impact, I think, bc clearly Loki was at the end of his rope to allow himself to show that much raw emotion and vulnerability, but also - for me - there’s a niggling little doubt there that wasn’t there before, in that there was probably more performance in it than I thought.

By which I mean, I think his reaction to the film of his life when he was alone was genuine but, while I previously thought his admission to Mobius later was also genuine, I now think was probably half genuine and half performative. I know others already figured that out, but I’m a little slow and, also, I don’t mind changing my opinion and interpretation from week to week.

Along the same lines, I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that Loki is “undercover” in the TVA, but it was nice to see it acknowledged fairly quickly. Not sure I buy that Loki wants to overthrow and rule the TVA - it’s still a little too “Loki only wants a throne” for me, but again, just because that’s what he told the variant doesn’t mean that’s actually what he’s after.

And, finally, I like the variant, I love Loki’s reaction to seeing her, and while I realize that the show has acknowledged Loki’s gender fluidity and we’re meant to assume that Lady Loki (I guess? Not sure if we’re going with that or not here) is Loki, I saw a theory somewhere about how this is actually not Loki-Loki, but - I wanna say her name Sophie but that’s the actress, again I can’t go look it up bc I will lose my train of thought - but it’s a character who is similar to Amora and who was created by Loki and models herself as Loki but she’s actually someone else.

Ugh I can’t remember the details of the theory, but I am kinda going with it bc I don’t think that Loki would look so - not surprised but just kind of “oh, well, I wasn’t expecting that” if he were seeing the female version of himself. Like, he doesn’t seem to recognize her the way I assume he would recognize himself, male or female. Not only does that make me feel like she’s actually someone else, but also not recognizing her as the female version of himself doesn’t necessarily mean Loki doesn’t recognize her at all. He may very well recognize her as this other Amora-similar character and, if so, I really want to see how that character fits with MCU Loki (as I think she’s a comic book character but, again, I’d have to go back and find that theory).

Edit: I found a version of it here.

Overall score, B-. Mostly solid, but needs moar Loki breakdowns and tears. (That's just me, don't fucking judge me.) Also, I really hate that we have to wait a week between episodes. I wish they were following Netflix’s method of dropping the entire season at once but, then again, if they did that, I’m not sure any of us would survive.

I gotta get ready for work and I deleted and rewrote so much of this and it still seems nonsensical to me, lmfao fml. Anyway feel free to interact/send me asks/whatever, it’s going to be a long fucking day with all of this on my mind. I’ll be working my way through my dash as best as I can.

Oh, also! Loki is so fucking pretty in this episode! The TVA suit is ugly, but he makes it work, and his hair's combed nicely and he looks like he finally got an opportunity to sleep and shower and eat something and, yknow, it's working for him.

[peachyteez]

lost puppy ≫ EPILOGUE

being abandoned by your owners is never fun. but yunho takes it as a chance to explore the world as his owners were never the kindest people. having wandered around jiyu’s condo, seonghwa discovers the lost puppy and said puppy is offered a second chance at a place to call home

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @choisaniskillingme, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa​, @etherealbyeol​

can’t be tagged: @koasworld, @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to he added to the list! :)

back。

“jun! that box has all the bowls and plates!” 

“that’s why you label the boxes, ji!”

jiyu hurriedly opened the box that yeonjun semi-dropped to the floor and sighed in relief when she saw nothing was broken. despite only moving six floors up from where she originally was, it was quite a hassle. 

“you’re lucky your apartment has a penthouse on the top floor,” yeonjun said as he surveyed the various boxes on the ground. “and with floor-to-ceiling windows? expect me, beomgyu, and soobin over every weekend.”

jiyu chuckled as she started sorting through the boxes. “i’m just lucky no one bought it within the two weeks it was up for sale.”

“jiyu! here’s the last of the boxes!” seonghwa announced as he came in through the door carrying a box. following him was beomgyu and soobin, who also carried a box in their arms. and of course, yunho. 

safe to say, jiyu successfully received ownership of yunho from his previous owners. the day after the incident at the mall, she was satisfied to receive an envelope with his adoption and ownership transfer papers by star enterprise. yunho practically almost fainted out of shock and ecstasy if it weren’t for seonghwa shaking him out of pure happiness. 

but of course, now with two hybrids, jiyu’s little apartment wasn’t going to be large enough for the three of them. heck, yunho was sharing seonghwa’s bed. immediately after receiving and finalizing yunho’s adoption forms, jiyu bought the penthouse on the top floor of her current apartment building. luckily, she had saved enough to purchase it without using her father’s bank account and raising suspicions. 

she smiled at the four hybrids. “you guys remembered to clear my keypad code, right?”

“yup!” beomgyu chirped as he placed the box on the kitchen counter. he stared around in amazement at jiyu’s new home. “can i live with jiyu instead? it’s nice here.” he giggled as he sat in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. 

yeonjun dramatically rolled his eyes. “you’re gonna bother her so much, she's gonna end up giving you back to me,” he joked, making everyone laugh as beomgyu whipped around with betrayal before scurrying over to yunho. 

“they’re making fun of me again!” he pouted. jiyu couldn’t help but grow soft—beomgyu looked so small compared to yunho, he looked like a child that was tattle-taling with his little pout and his ears drooping. 

during yunho’s first meeting with beomgyu and soobin, the latter two had basically established him as the older brother they never had. and jiyu could see why. yunho radiated a big-brother like vibe that everyone loved. jiyu genuinely couldn’t understand how his former owners could mistreat such a sweet and innocent hybrid that wanted nothing but love. 

yunho giggled before using his tail to tickle beomgyu’s stomach. his pout immediately melted away as he broke out into laughter from the ticklish feeling. soobin and seonghwa watched with amused eyes at the pair of golden retrievers. ever since yunho was introduced to the group, the four were now inseparable, with seonghwa and soobin being the “adults” of the group whilst the two golden retrievers were in their own little world.

yeonjun chuckled before nudging jiyu with his elbow. “see, not so bad, right?”

jiyu airily chuckled. “i suppose so. it’s just gonna be hard when time comes,” she sadly muttered. as much as she promised herself and yeonjun to not think about the future, she couldn’t help it. time was flying by so quickly. not to mention that yunho probably had no idea about her future, so he was in the dark and enjoying the temporary happiness. 

yeonjun squished her cheeks in his hands. “stop right now,” he scolded. she playfully glared at him, even if she looked ridiculous with her squished cheeks. 

“hey! what are you doing with jiyu?” yunho asked as he bounded over to them. “don’t try anything funny with her!” he wailed as he threw his arms around her and pulled her out of yeonjun’s grip. 

yeonjun stuttered. “i—i didn’t—i wasn’t—”

soobin and beomgyu playfully gasped as they smacked his shoulder. “hyung! have some decency!” soobin laughed. 

yeonjun facepalmed. “i can literally get attacked for breathing in this house, i swear.”

stifling her laughter, she silently reached up to scratch behind yunho’s ears. since he was heads taller, yunho slightly bent down so jiyu could have an easier time reaching. she never would’ve imagined this happening to her a few months ago. she never imagined she would’ve broken her promise and allowed four hybrids to burrow their way into her heart and make a snug home there. a lot can happen in a few months...

“hey, i want scratches, too!” seonghwa quietly shouted as he bent his head down towards jiyu, who laughed as she switched from yunho to seonghwa. the three watched, trying to not burst out in laughter at poor yeonjun being attacked by soobin and beomgyu. 

“we need to start unpacking if we want a place to sleep tonight,” she gently chuckled to the two. 

seonghwa relaxed at her touch while yunho rested his chin on top of her head. “we can crash their place,” seonghwa suggested, gesturing to the other three. 

“my place isn’t a hotel,” yeonjun huffed.

“...please?” yunho asked, letting loose his infamous puppy eyes, beomgyu following his lead for good measure. 

yeonjun sighed. “this really isn’t fair.”

“we both know that you couldn’t leave me without a place to sleep,” jiyu teased.

“debatable.”

✧ notes: and that’s a wrap for our yunho! 🥺 all members’ series lengths will be different, but i’ll try to fill each one with as much love and content as i can! (not to mention i have some content for jiyu as well hehe)

next up, hongjoong!

[akvtsuki-ari]

Sweetheart (Ch.1)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM and bunch of other kinks but nothing sexual in this chapter lol. Sub!Spencer and Femdom!Reader 

Length: 5.3k 

Authors Note: this is hands down the most self-indulgent shit ive ever wrote but do i care? the answer is no dsjk  but this that series i had planned where the reader introduces spencer to proper BDSM and all that. hoping to make this fic kinda informative also lol. also im uploading this fic on ao3 as well. also no tags for this fic bc its really specific and ill probably be writing for it for a while! sorry about that

Plot Summary: Spencer Reid just wanted to be.., well, you know. He doesn’t expect to find much when he signs up for a BDSM dating website but somehow he manages you and he couldn’t be more delighted

Spencer Reid was certainly a lot of things. He was a lover of the arts, someone who had a particular affinity for 15th-century literature, a magician at best, a theater nerd at worst, and a teacher when life called for it. He loves the world even when it's really dark and he loves sleeping in even more. He loves his friends and they love him too - even when they pretend that his random facts annoy them. Spencer Reid was a friend, an FBI agent, a genius with an IQ of 187, and a son to a mother he loves wholly. He was a lot of things and for the most part - he knew a lot about what he really loved to do. He supposed that it's been like that his whole life.

It's not everyday that he discovers something new about himself. About everything else? Always. He loves to learn, but about himself? There's never all that much on the frontier.

It's hard to say, because of that, when Spencer discovered he was a sub. It's difficult to pinpoint a specific time and place, or even how the pieces got put together. He just remembers how it felt when it hit him, like a freight train going 100 miles an hour into a concrete wall. Or a plane crashing onto an island. Or like a fly hitting the glass panes of a delivery truck. He remembers the feeling when he was deftly reminded of this fact. Spencer Reid was a sub - through and through and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Surprisingly to most of his direct peers, Spencer wasn't a virgin. He'd had sex with 2 people who he'd been kinda friends with at some point, but it always got a little weird after that. The second time though, the girl ended up choking him a little bit when she got off and Spencer thought he had died. Not in a bad way, more in a "I'm so turned on by this I feel like I've genuinely gone to heaven," sort of way. He didn't think it was possible for a sexual encounter to make him feel like that but it did. It didn't stop after that either, which was the most agitating part. 

Spencer doesn't consider himself a sexual person. Sex is about intimacy and companionship, and hopefully love when he finds that someday. Sex isn't necessarily about pleasure but that wasn't an easy lesson to learn.

Spencer just wanted to understand - so like any great genius he participated in thought experiments. It's normally a female superhero/supervillain that crosses his mind (he has an affinity for Poison Ivy), and he just kinda imagines what it would be like if they did what she did. The choking turned him on, but it wasn't enough. Through that, he figures out that he had more than a choking kink and that he was more than a little interested in a partner having complete access to him. He thought about it for weeks and the getting off was working for him but he couldn't get the fantasy out of his head. He wanted more - he wanted someone to fulfill his wishes.

It was too much for him to ignore. Those months of being able to hold off through masturbating are over and he's just sorta itching. Aching to act on those impulses with another person who can give him what he needs, and he doesn't want it to be transactional. Maybe it's too ideal to want a partner out of such an endeavor but was it so wrong? To want real affection and romance from someone who could also overpower him wasn't a crime and he'd be damned if he pretended to want any less. Spencer was just searching, even if it was rather desperately. 

So, when Spencer finds himself on a BDSM dating site and he feels like his life is in shambles, he can only blame himself. It's not something he'd normally do but he's getting a little more than relentless about it but he also just wants to see what's out there. He's so out of it was it happens, it felt like he was being possessed as he made a fake email and wrote out his account information. Definitely blaming it on possession, he thinks. 

It's too late to go back, as he scrolls through tons of profiles of rather intense looking people. He's not surprised, this is where people go to express themselves. They're entitled to that, it just sucks since he's just not ready for such levels of intensity. He wonders if he's in too deep yet, but he figures he'd hit that mark a long time ago and keeps scrolling through profiles. There wasn't much to go off of, many people not choosing to use photos for the sake of anonymity, which was good for Spencer. He clicks onto his own profile, reading his own bio carefully.

USERNAME: DOC187 

SUB/ SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O

FETISHES: N/A

BIO: Interest in a dominant female companion. Completely inexperienced.

Spencer feels ridiculous, but he doubts anyone would even message him. He doesn't have much on his profile and he keeps things short for that purpose. He wanted to stay as low to the ground as possible - more curious to explore what was going in the world than to find anything legitimate. He scrolls through hundreds of profiles, mostly of people who were BDSM vets looking for new connections or fun. Some people catch his eye but they don't match his interests so he doesn't bother.

Except, one profile. The bio was beyond interesting to Spencer.

USERNAME: MISS—LILAC

SUB / SWITCH / DOM 

M / F / O 

FETISHES: Sadomasochist, Degradation, Humiliation, Pegging, Overstimulation, Edging, Crossdressing, Exhibitionism, Mutual Masturbation, Dacryphilia, Shibari/Gags/Bondage, Wax Play, Impact Play, Breath Play, General Sensation Play, Discipline, Collaring, Begging. Willing to try most things. 

BIO: Interested in submissive males of any experience level. Helps if you're interesting and like to read and watch indie films. Looking for genuine connection and plenty of good banter. Curly hair is nice too. lol.

Before Spencer can think about it for too long his mouse clicks over that stupid little message button next to your profile. Spencer shakes his head at his own existence as he types you a message. Says you're online right now, but Spencer's sure he won't get a response for a while.

DOC187: Seems I fit who you're interested in. I even have the curly hair.

Spencer chews on his nails anxiously before he sighs at himself. He has no clue what's gotten into him belle before he can think he sees your 3-dotted bubble pop up. He feels his body wracked with nerves.

MISS—LILAC: I'm guessing you like to read and watch indie films too?

Spencer smiles. You seem interesting and the fact that the two of you were just talking normal was making Spencer happy.

DOC187: Indeed. I'm a sucker for 15-century literature and anything in Russian and foreign language. You?

MISS—LILAC: 15th century huh? I'll assume Chaucer. And Russian? You're interesting, doc. I'm more modern and English, hope you're not deterred.

Spencer smiles, surprised that you recognize an author as niche as Chaucer. He shakes his head at your commentary. He almost forgets that both of you are on a BDSM dating site and the irony doesn't escape him.

DOC187: Deterred? Never. I think you're rather interesting too, Miss Lilac.

MISS—LILAC: Ever the gentleman doc. I'm hoping you won't run away if I ask you more personal questions.

Spencer swallows. He types back quickly.

DOC187: What kinds of questions?

MISS—LILAC: If it's okay, you're real name and what you do. My names Y/N, and I'm a florist. I live in DC and I love romance novels.

Spencer smiles. He appreciates you laying down the path for him, knowing the stakes.

DOC187: My names Spencer and I work for the FBI. I also live in DC, and I love magic.

MISS—LILAC: Magic? I'd love for you to show me sometime.

Spencer swallows. Part of him feels like it's a stupid idea to ask you out so early but if you asked, he'd likely say yes. He decides to wait it out.

DOC187: I'd be more than happy to show you.

MISS—LILAC: I suppose you could send me a video but that's not the same as seeing the magic in real life, now is it?

Spencer is smiling like an idiot at this point. He shakes his head a little, jittery.

DOC187: Infinitely better live, I would say.

MISS—LILAC: Seems like I've found an excuse to ask you on a date then. Saturday's work for me but I'm sure it depends on you, FBI man. Before that, I'm gonna drop my number and I'll be expecting your call. (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Spencer giggles. It's a little out of range for things he's used to doing, giggling aloud for someone else is certainly new. Spencer picks up his phone and dials away, anxious to call you but excited nonetheless. He heard you pick up the phone and his heart catches in his throat.

"Hello?," Your voice is smooth, and a little bit lower than he was expecting. It sounds pretty.

"Hello, Y/N," Spencer says back. He heard you laugh on the other side and can't help the way his heart flutters.

"Lovely to talk to you doc,"

"Still Doc? Not Spencer?" Spencer questions. You smile on the other side of the line.

"Doc seems to fit you. But, for the sake of formality, hello Spencer,"

"I like Doc too, but it feels like I should have a nickname for you as well. Only seems fair," Spencer says laughing quietly.

"If it's your prerogative you can call me Miss Lilac, or just Miss but..." you trail off for a minute. Spencer squints.

"Miss is a title, you know? Doesn't seem fair for you to call me that when I haven't earned it from you yet. I'm sure we'll get there but for now you can just call me Y/N," you say softly. Spencer blushes bright red, his voice betraying him as he speaks.

"O-Oh, well um - where does the name Lilac come from? Normally people go with their names when it comes to stuff like that," Spencer says shyly. He heard you laugh on the other side of the phone and blushes again, grateful you can't see him.

"I love the language of flowers and flowers themselves. It's a way to speak that not many people know - but I like the meaning and look of lilacs. White lilacs represent purity, so that was a bit of irony, but light purple lilacs mean first love," you say carefully.

"First love?," Spencer asks. You bite your lip for a moment.

"I joke that BDSM is my first love since it's such a big part of my life. Not as big as some but not small for certain. It gave me much needed confidence so I joke that it was my first," You say lightly. You hear Spencer giggle on the other side and you smile.

"What about your username? Any significance to DOC187 that I should know of?," you readjust your seat on your couch as you talk. Spencer grows a bit embarrassed.

"I normally introduce myself as Doctor Spencer Reid for work, not a medical doctor but I have three PhD's," Spencer admits. You raise your brows but hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Very, very impressive doc. What about the 187? It could be a plain ol' number but my guess would be otherwise,"

"That's my IQ, actually. I don't think intelligence can be boiled down and quantified like that but I couldn't think of anything else," Spencer explains.

"So you're a certified genius with 3 PhD's? To say I'm impressed is an understatement. Anything else impressive you'd like to tell me before I totally pick your brains," you say a little shocked.

"You wanna pick my brains?," Spencer asks. You wanna laugh at the irony of such a silly question from such an intelligent man but you refrain.

"Who wouldn't?," you say incredulously. Spencer smiles shyly.

"The only other thing is that I can read 20,000 words per minute," Spencer says trying to deflect. Your jaw dropped before but it manages to unhinge a little further.

"There's a lot to get to know about you Doctor Reid,"

"I'm sure it's the same for you," Spencer replies.

"Guess we'll have to find out won't we?," you say smiling.

Damn, Spencer got lucky. Hopefully he'd get to find out soon

_____

"Reid, are you listening?," Derek's voice snaps Spencer out of his entranced state. His smiling expression snaps up to look at Derek who looks a little exasperated.

"Sorry, what was that?," Spencer asks back. Derek puts down the case file they were working on. They had just finished a case and needed to complete some paperwork before submitting it for review and to be used in court. The job was given to him and Morgan and Spencer was evidently distracted.

"Alright, kid - what is up with you? All case you've been checking your phone non-stop and spacing out, all smiles and giggles. C'mon now kid, seriously. You got a little lady at home waiting for you or is there something else I don't know about?," Derek interrogates. Spencer doesn't really know what to make of it, though it's not really in his interest to hide you, it hasn't really come up with anyone on the team yet so it was proving difficult to decide what to do. The smile on his face manages to appear again as he starts to think about you, the tips of his ears red.

"Reid," Morgan says again, with a small look of irritation.

"Her names Y/N," Spencer blurts out faster than he can't think. Derek gives him a huge grin, holding his hand out to dap Spencer up. Spencer just looks at it confused for a second before getting the memo.

"'My man," Derek says chuckling. Before Spencer can continue Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia walk in. Hotch is the only one missing, and Spencer's a little grateful.

"What are we celebrating in here you guys?," Prentiss asks first. Spencer goes to say something to move away from his sudden confession but Derek is quick to cut him off.

"Our boy genius over here got him a little lady," Derek announces. The whole team erupts in questions and Spencer wants to bury himself.

"Congratulations, Spencer!! How long have you two been dating?," Prentiss asks.

"You guys are so dramatic. It's only been two months but no first date because well..." Spencer trails off. JJ just nods her head.

"Duty calls, I'm guessing" JJ finishes. Spencer nods deflated hearing Emily draw a breath between her teeth.

"That's tough, Spence,"

Just as Spencer goes to give a response back he gets a text from you that makes his day a little better. It's a selfie of you at work, a picture your employee must've taken of you in a room full of new flower deliveries. You're giving Spencer a toothy grin as you hold a bunch of gardenias in your hand.

Y/N 🌸: *image attachment* 

Gardenias// You're lovely + Secret Love <33

Spencer cannot control the way his whole face bunches up in a smile, as if there's no one else in the room with him. Everyone just looks at him surprised, Garcia giving him a side-eye.

"How can you guys trust this stranger? We don't even know who she is! I haven't even run any background checks on her," Garcia complains. Prentiss nudges her side.

"I don't know if it matters - look at how hard he's smiling over there," Prentiss says. Garcia reluctantly looks and can't help but sigh.

"Okay well he seems really happy but still! We don't even know her," she pouts.

"I'm sure we'll meet her soon," JJ snickers at Spencer's lovestruck expression. Derek leans over Spencer's shoulder and raises his brows.

"Is that her, kid?," Derek asks. Spencer nods, simply staring at the picture you sent. Derek whistles when he sees you - you're genuinely stunning and he's surprised to say the least.

"Hot mama, pretty boy - how'd you manage that?," Derek asks, dumbfounded. Emily rolls her eyes.

"C'mon Derek, I'm sure - oh wow," Emily leans over Spencer's shoulder to see you and is met with the same reaction. JJ and Garcia are quick to follow thereafter, both looking equally as surprised.

"She's..." JJ trails off. The rest of the team just nods as Spencer grins ear to ear.

Spencer 🐻: Beautiful, as always.

Spencer ignores the rest of the team as they look at each other in disbelief.

Y/N🌸: Me or the flowers, Doc?

Spencer🐻: Both, but mostly you.

"Wow, Spencer you're really -" Prentiss starts

"You're whipped, kid. I mean seriously whipped," Derek finishes, nodding in agreement. JJ can't help but smile, giving Spencer a small pat on the back.

"She seems lovely, Spencer. How'd you two meet?," JJ says. Garcia stands around looking rather suspicious. A blush creeps onto Spencer's neck as he's reminded of how you two met.

"Online," Spencer says shortly. No one decides to question it, and Spencer thanks every god he can think of.

"Have you two FaceTimed yet? How can we know she's not, I don't know - catfishing you? Or scamming you in some other cyber criminal way?," Garcia sounds distressed. Spencer gives a small smile.

"We fall asleep over FaceTime every night," Spencer admits. Penelope's expression falls, and Prentiss gives a smile.

"That is disgustingly cute," JJ says laughing.

"Okay, well - I'm still running a background check on her," Garcia says stubbornly "But, I'm happy for you,"

"Thanks Garcia," Spencer mumbles out as he texts you again.

Y/N🌸: I wanna see you, love

Spencer blushes red as he reads your message. The word love makes his whole face hot.

Spencer🐻: I can't take a selfie for my life

Y/N🌸: You're with your team aren't you? Get them to take a picture of you.

Spencer wants to fold away, not ever really being the picture type, but how could he ever deny you.

Spencer🐻: How could I ever say no to you?

"Hey guys, can one of you take a picture of me for Y/N?" Spencer asks embarrassingly red. The whole team sends him a look of surprise.

"I'll take it Spence, try not to look as uncomfortable as you do right now," JJ says. The whole team refrains from laughing as Spencer gives an awkward smile. He thanks JJ who hands him back his phone before texting you again.

Spencer🐻: *image attachment* You owe me one

Y/N🌸: you're stunning as always. hadn't seen you in so long I almost forgot what you looked like.

Spencer🐻: stunnings an interesting choice of words.

Y/N🌸: I said what I said, doc. 

Spencer can't help but do a little giggle, that causes the whole team to give him a look. Morgan just shakes his head, shrugging. Emily, JJ, and Garcia just look at each other before the room draws into a subtle but comfortable silence as Spencer just smiles, totally unaware of how whipped he happened to look. He didn’t seem to mind either way. 

___

"How was work?," Spencer asks over the phone, kicking his shoes off as he looks into his fridge for something to eat. He hears you sigh on the other side of the line.

"Busy today - wedding season is coming up so tons of calls for centerpiece designs and costs. It's going well though, business couldn't be better," you say, clearly tired yet content. Spencer gives a small smile and feels relieved that things are going okay for you.

"That's really good. I'm glad you're feeling alright," Spencer replies. You ease into the couch as you talk to Spencer, relaxing by the second. 

"What about you, FBI man? You have an okay day?," Your voice is full of a gentle concern that Spencer appreciates.

"Yeah, just paperwork and JJ said that we shouldn't have any upcoming cases this week to be worried about so I have the weekend off," Spencer says without thought.

"Have any special plans for the weekend?," you say cheekily. Spencer, still not having caught on, shakes his head for a second.

"No, why?,"

"Hm... well - would you like to go on a date with me then Doctor Reid?," You ask, giggling. Spencer's eyes widen in realization as he facepalms for a moment.

"Wow, I didn't even think... yes - yes I would love to go on a date with you Y/N," Spencer says laughing at his own misfortune. You shake your head instinctively, but the growing smile and even further growing adoration makes it hard to sit still.

"Hey, Spencer," you say, butterflies filling your stomach.

"Yeah?"

"I really like you,"

____

Saturday comes quicker than Spencer can really understand. You told him not to worry about what the days plans would be but he can't help it. Anxiously awaiting you in front of the cafe that the two of you were supposed to meet at, in a part of town Spencer hasn't really seen before. You said that you'd lead the way and the irony isn't lost on him.

"Spencer?," Your voice is small, as you call out to what you think is Spencer Reid. Of course, you'd seen him before but to see him in person like this was still so unfamiliar. His head shoots up, eyes searching for you. He's delighted to have found you, certainly that was true as he walks towards you. Your arms envelop him in a friendly hug and he can't help but find himself sinking into. You smelled sweet, like fruit and flowers (which makes sense, the more he thinks about it)

"Lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,"

"Same goes for you, doc. Would you like to be informed of our plans for the day, or do you prefer the element of surprise?,"  You ask smiling. Spencer laughs at your question.

"Details would be appreciated, but I get the feeling you're not gonna give me those."

"You're right! It's a trick question, since it's a surprise. But, promise it'll be good,"

"I'll take your word for it then," Spencer says with a small smile. You hold your hand out for Spencer which he accepts, locking his hands with yours. The affection makes him feel full of warmth, as you lead him away for the day you had planned for the both of you.

___

Spencer underestimated how well you knew him. He really, really did. It's hard to explain since Spencers been on a date before but this was so profoundly different. He's a little touched, but beyond that he's just.. surprised? Every date he'd been on before this, he'd have to play the gentleman but it never seemed like the other person was interested in just him. It was always casual small-talk over dinner, or a mid-day coffee date or something else that just felt mundane but this was beyond Spencer's imagination.

The first place you took him was a bookstore - which was in Spencers mind already a winner for best date he'd ever been on. You walked inside with him and told him he had to pick up a book for you and you had to pick up a book for him and to say his heart absolutely fluttered would be an understatement. He picked up up a copy of "The Screwtape Tales," by C.S. Lewis for you, and you gave him a copy of Shel Silverstein's "Where The Sidewalk Ends." For you, you got a glimpse to see what Spencer's sense of humor was and you gave Spencer a piece of your childhood. Both equal but opposite forms of intimacy. The only thing was Spencer had to wait to read his book because it's relatively shorter than yours and he reads 20,000 words per minute.

The next place you took Spencer was an indoor butterfly garden. Does he have to explain why that's a good date? He heard you talk about all the scientific names for the different flowers and why they attract butterflies and he wasn't sure he could crush any harder on you if he tried. A particular moment sticks out to him on which a butterfly landed on your shoulders and just stayed there like it didn't want to leave. Spencer's eyes were fixated on it the whole time - and he had never wanted to be a butterfly in his life before but he figures there's a first time for everything.

The last place, where the both of you were at now was just a small coffee shop, locally owned and supported by the community here. You told Spencer that when you started up your shop, you'd come in here to work on big orders before you'd expanded enough to have employees. Spencer admires your work ethic, much more than he could ever anticipate as he sits down at a small booth, totally covering the both of you as you return to the table with a little plate of banana bread and two iced coffees. Spencer pouts as he looks up at you, watching you flash him a grin.

"I could've helped you carry this over," Spencer complains gently. You roll your eyes.

"Maybe next time doc," you say softly. You hold back your commentary often on the date, and Spencer pretends not to notice for your sake but he'd be lying if he said he didn't wanna know. You always had something sly to say but you'd kept it from him so many times now he figures it's better if he didn't ask.

Spencer looks at you as you push a plate of banana bread towards him. He looks at you with curious eyes before reading your clearly excited face and laughs. He picks up a piece and examines it, before taking a bite. If it tasted as good as it smelled then he would be more than obliged.

The involuntary moan that escapes Spencer's throat makes you choke with laughter. Shit, you weren't kidding when you said this was the best banana bread in the city. Spencer just looks up at you like he's about to cry with joy as you double over in giggles.

"I know," You say softly, taking a bite yourself eyes filling with joy "I ordered some more for us to take home - you're welcome," you say with confidence. Spencer smiles because that is genuinely thoughtful, but it was more endearing to see you pretend it wasn't. He just shakes his head, a blush arising to his face as he looks at you. You're staring at him with intent. He quirks his brow at you in question.

"I had a good time today, Spencer" You say warmly. You only called him Spencer when you were saying something affectionate and a bit serious. He gives you a toothy smile.

"I haven't been on very many dates, but this was easily the best one I'd ever been on," Spencer says honestly. You grin ear to ear, hands carefully holding Spencer across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles for a few seconds. You couldn't say for sure whether it was too soon to ask him to be your boyfriend, but you'd be damned if you said it didn't cross your mind.

Spencer was mind-numbingly unaware of what good boyfriend material he was, but beyond that - what good submissive boyfriend material he was. It was driving you nuts, but you knew this was all new for him and you didn't wanna freak him out. Even when guys say they're interested in being submissive, they're still often times uncomfortable with you being fully dominant. Dominant in public and in bed, if you will. You wanted to pay for dates, and buy him flowers, and make him feel special too - at least on the occasion. That role came naturally to you, that let me make you feel owned type affection that only a dominant person can give. It scared men off - out of relationships, and you totally got why - but you liked Spencer too much as a person to risk iit.

Spencer holds your hands together, gathering your attention. You looked at him spaced out and he gives you a look of concern.

"You okay?," Spencer asks. You nod, chewing your lip in debate of whether or not you should express your concerns. Spencer just tugs on your hand and looks at you intently.

You sigh, looking at Spencer softly.

"I'm okay I just really like you," you say a little exasperated. Spencer laughs but is filled with relief.

"I'm glad to hear that. What else is on your mind?,"

"I really like you - like in an, I want you to officially by my boyfriend way and I hope it's not too soon but I'm just, worried I guess," you say nervously. Spencer can't help the way his heart beats in his chest when he hears you say boyfriend. God did he want to be your boyfriend.

"What're you worried about?,"

"I'm worried about freaking you out. I can be a lot since I'm... you know?," You say nervously. Spencer looks at you  to continue.

"I'm more than just dominant in bed, and for a lot of guys it's not their thing and that's their right but I like you so much. I really don't want that to happen if I ask you out now and you realize that it's not for you," you say in clear upset.

Spencer looks at you in disbelief. You were worried that he was gonna freak out over that? That you were too dominant for him? It feels like such a silly concern but the expression on your face tells him you're speaking from experience.

"I mean, it's all kinda new to me but, well - I do like how you treat me? It's a nice change, I can't imagine myself getting tired of it, or of you. I really like you too," Spencer tried his best to reassure you without totally embarrassing you. You smiles at Spencer but your face is still full of doubt.

"If that ever changes, I'll tell you but I'd really like to call you my girlfriend," Spencer finishes. You can't help the warmth that spreads in your stomach at the offer. You just nod, looking up at him. You stand and walk to Spencer's side of the booth, sliding in next to him, leaning your head into his shoulder for a few while seconds. You sit back up, and Spencer turns to you.

"Hey, doc," you say softly. Spencer hums in acknowledgement.

"Can I kiss you?," you ask softly. Spencer chews his lip and nods, looking down at your lip. You're wearing lipgloss and it makes them look pretty - you are so pretty to Spencer.

Kisses are their own language, Spencer figures. The way someone kisses you can tell you a lot about who they are - so, when you put your hands on the side of Spencer's face, pulling him closer to you with such care and adoration - Spencer can feel what you were referencing earlier. The word Miss rings out in his mind, the way you pay attention to him with your hands. He feels your lips press against his, slowly gliding your fingers in his hair, thumb brushing agains the side of his cheek. Your other hand rested on his inner thigh and he has to think about anything other than that not to get hard. Spencer didn't get how much he'd been thinking about touching you until you'd do with no hesitation and he lets out a small whine. You pull back and Spencer has to catch his breath.

His lashes blink up at you and you're absolutely beaming.

"You're cute baby,"

Baby? Spencer wants to cover his face when you say it. You kiss him again and he can't help but feel flush.

You were Spencer's girlfriend and then some and he couldn't be more happy.

[yukipri]

On the Baratie, Part 5 Epilogue - a One Piece Mermaid AU Text Story

Here’s the final part of the Baratie series!

Includes my personal headcanons for Thatch’s backstory in this AU (and possibly canon, as I doubt we’ll learn much more about him sigh).

WARNINGS (actual warnings this time):

＊Trigger warnings for non-graphic violence, gore, unwilling self-harm, mention of thoughts of suicide, and body horror. Canon-typical dark backstory.

Slight ship warnings for: minor Sanji x Luffy, Thatch x Luffy, hint of bg Sabo x Luffy, but not ship-focused.

Continues off of past parts!

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 1

👒🐟On the Baratie, Prologue

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 2

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 3

👒🐟On the Baratie, Part 4

~~

They've been traveling together for a while now. With more additions to the crew, Sanji's no longer the newest member. They leave East Blue, crossing over to the Grand Line. Their voyage continues onward.

Fitting into his role as the second cook of the ASL Pirates was easier than Sanji could have ever hoped, and he knows it's largely due to Thatch. Thatch, who, for all his incredible skill and titles and history, turns out to be...a remarkably normal person. It takes less than an hour for Sanji's awe over Thatch being his childhood idol to turn into pure indignation when the other cook professes his love for Luffy, and now their daily proposals to Luffy with food are just part of routine on the Merry.

(Sanji still knows his cooking is amateur in comparison to Thatch's, but none of their crew seems to realize, and Luffy eats all their food with equal gusto. Even Thatch himself only ever compliments Sanji, often with ridiculous faux outrage that Sanji's cooking looks better, which is absolutely false, Sanji would know. But even so, the man sounds so genuinely offended that Sanji can't help but appreciate the lengths the older man will go to in order to keep Sanji from feeling inferior.)

It's during a rare moment of calm, when the skies are clear and Deuce and Nami seem relaxed about their progress, when Sanji decides there's never going to be a better time to ask. He finishes washing the last of the pastry plates from the desserts the crew had just finished devouring (his hands momentarily pause on a plate that Ace had to pull out of Luffy's throat when she swallowed it whole along with the pastry, and Sanji allows himself a moment of imagining that the plate with her slobber is somewhat like an indirect kiss...), before he exits the kitchen to go to his locker.

From the locker, buried beneath gravure magazines of buxom ladies whose beauty will never compare to Luffy's, he pulls out a magazine far more valuable to him, the only one of its kind that he'd brought with him from the Baratie.

Back up on the main deck, Sanji finds Thatch sitting by the mast while watching Luffy and Usopp play with some new contraption the latter made. He looks up when he senses Sanji's approach, grimacing when the movement makes the wind blow his now loose hair into his mouth.

"I need a hair tie if Marco's not going to send me my damn hair wax," Thatch complains, even as he pats the ground next to him for Sanji to sit.

"You could always ask our lovely navigator," Sanji grunts as he drops down, careful not to fold the magazine, which Thatch has yet to notice.

"Ah, beautiful Miss Nami might have one, but her hair's pretty short...honestly more likely Deuce'll have one." Thatch sulks, because he'd really rather get a hair tie from a pretty lady, but as it is, Thatch probably has the longest hair on the crew at the moment, followed by their first mate. "If only our ladies had longer hair...ah, my darling Seastar with long hair..."

Sanji lets himself get drawn into imagining their most dazzling Lady Captain leaning against the rail of the Merry, sunlight sparkling off the waves in the background paling in comparison to her radiance. Her face is shadowed by her trademark straw hat, before she raises her head, causing long, silky strands to ripple around her like dark angel wings, glittering threads of black diamond dancing across her cheeks before she tucks them behind her ear with a small smile--

Both cooks sigh dreamily in perfect unison.

"Hey Luffy, they're thinking somethin' pervy about you again!" Usopp shouts in the background.

Both cooks ignore him, likewise in perfect synch.

Thatch regretfully pulls out of his Luffy Vision first. "So, you got something to talk to me about?" He knows it can't be about dinner, because they'd already started prepping for that.

Sanji blinks, and oh, there's Luffy, with her short hair, still just as lovely, probably doing something incredibly stupid and dangerous, but that's okay because Sabo's stepping in, and the Revolutionary may be batshit crazy but he won't let Luffy hurt herself--and right, he wanted to talk to Thatch.

He carefully brings the magazine out in front of him, and Thatch leans over curiously. The pages easily fall open to the column, remembering the page Sanji poured over countless times. Sanji hears Thatch's breath hitch.

"This you?" Sanji asks, looking at the faded photo of the smiling boy, before his eyes flick to Thatch.

The older man's eyes are wide, glued to the page. Sanji wordlessly offers him the magazine, and Thatch slowly takes it, his hands handling the paper carefully as though worried it'll crack.

"Yeah, that's me alright," Thatch murmurs, eyes scanning the column before his lips twist into a wry smile. "How the hell did you get your hands on this fossil?"

"Found it while we were looking for stuff for the Baratie's collection, some old second hand shop," Sanji says, and it's not a lie, but it's not like he can admit he was obsessed with them and actually hunted for them after obtaining the first ones.

Thatch makes a low sound of understanding, before he starts flipping through the rest of the magazine, pages that Sanji honestly doesn't even remember. "I wonder if this magazine's still even going..."

"It is," Sanji informs him. "It's changed a lot, but we still get it delivered."

Thatch laughs then, shaking his head as he closes the magazine and hands it back to Sanji with the same care. "I'm sure it has changed, after what happened, oh man..."

Sanji frowns. So something did happen.

"So how did the kid in this end up a Whitebeard pirate?" he asks, but he means, How did the boy's adventure end?

"Mm, you sure you wanna know? It's not a particularly nice story, though I suppose it has a happy end." Thatch leans back heavily against the mast, his hand subconsciously reaching up to brush hair away from his face, lingering on the deep, if old scar around his left eye. Sanji wonders if it's related.

"If it's something you don't mind sharing. I'm sure I can handle it."

They're interrupted by a crash, and look up to see Sabo heaving Luffy up back over the rail by the end of her tail. She'd clearly almost fallen overboard, again, but is laughing as carefree as ever, even as Usopp wrings his hands apologetically behind them. Sabo doesn't look mad though, and is stroking Luffy's hair now that she's safely back on deck and in his arms, his face disgustingly besotted.

Deuce and Nami come out of the cabin at the noise, and Ace and Zoro startle awake from their respective naps as well. Deuce takes one look at what's going on, and launches into a full blown scolding session for all three of the members involved, clearly dissatisfied with the way Sabo handled it. It had only taken the first mate a few days in his company before Deuce had determined that no matter how sensible Sabo may seem at times, he's still Another Stupid Brother, and therefore gets the same treatment.

The rest of the crew listening in winces when Deuce hurls a, "Luffy being stupid is one thing, but you're WAY too lenient with her, you foolish Revolutionary!" Nami and Koala cheer him on in the background.

("Told you," Ace mouths, before hastily looking away when Deuce's gaze snaps to him.)

Usopp looks thoroughly chastised and sincerely sorry, Sabo looks weirdly pleased as though being told he's lenient is a compliment, and Luffy looks bored and is searching for an escape when her gaze lands on the two cooks.

"Thatch! Story time?!" is all the warning they get, before Luffy's arms grab onto the mast behind them and the mermaid torpedoes head-first into Thatch's chest. It's a testament to the Whitebeard Commander's sturdiness that all he does is grunt at the considerable impact, even as Sanji winces in sympathy. That'll definitely bruise.

"Alright, yeah story time, if anyone wants to hear my boring old past," Thatch agrees, and Luffy cheers, turning herself sideways and flopping down on Thatch's crossed legs to look up at him with eyes sparkling with expectation. Sanji isn't even jealous, because in her new position, Luffy's thrown her tail across Sanji's lap, and he begins reverently rubbing circles into her soft scales, heat creeping up his cheeks when her flukes flick with pleasure.

Deuce sighs, giving up on his scolding as everyone gathers around the cooks. But he doesn't seem too disappointed, and pulls out his notebook as he joins them, as though he intends on recording whatever Thatch's going to say. Ace plops himself down on Thatch's other side, ruffling Luffy's hair distractedly and hiding his curiosity poorly. Sanji gets the feeling that despite knowing him for much longer, Ace hasn't heard much about Thatch's past either.

"Well, so..."

~~

Thatch was born to a middle class family in a relatively active port town on the Grand Line. His parents ran a modest diner, certainly nothing high class, but popular enough among the locals to almost always have full seats.

Thatch was what they called a "child prodigy." He'd started helping in the kitchen simply because he wanted to do the same things as his parents, but by the time he was seven, he'd already surpassed both of them in skill. His parents decided to leave the kitchen to him, while they focussed on management.

With Thatch behind the menu, the restaurant's popularity grew, drawing more traffic. Among their visitors were occasional food critics, who spread their business's reputation and made it something of a cult tourist spot.

When Thatch was nine, his father came up with the idea that it might be good publicity, for people to know that a literal child was behind their now famous restaurant's food. And in the name of said publicity, he also decided to have the restaurant officially under Thatch's name, although is parents still managed it.

"Child prodigy chef owns his own restaurant," was definitely a headline that journalists latched onto. The berries were rolling in.

Thatch himself, he didn't really care about that. He rarely ever left the kitchen now, constantly cooking, constantly coming up with new menu items, constantly training new chefs as their once small family diner expanded into a chain. He didn't really mind it, he loved cooking after all, but he often wished he still had time to talk to patrons, or explore town. While there weren't any child labor laws in their country, he couldn't go to school or make friends or do anything a normal child might otherwise enjoy.

So when the largest, most prominent cooking magazine sent a representative to talk about a potential column centered around him, Thatch was hopeful. He'd always dreamed of leaving the island, and it'd never seemed like an achievable dream. He wanted to exposure to new things to expand his cooking repertoire, and he wanted to be able to challenge himself as a cook--but more than anything, he also just wanted go and see what might be out there, outside of his diner's kitchen.

His parents reluctantly agreed. At this point, Thatch had trained enough experienced cooks, and their reputation was established enough that Thatch's temporary absence wouldn't damage them. And Thatch knew his parents were drawn by the potential for greater publicity from the column, and Thatch (and their restaurant) possibly becoming a household name not just on the Grand Line, but across the world.

(Thatch never thought his parents were bad people, or even bad parents. He hadn't wanted for anything, and they let him pursue and nurture his passion. That they were business-minded, and had also come to see Thatch as an asset and publicity tool was something he understood. They still loved him, in their own way.)

His parents' only condition was that Thatch return in a few years, before he was fifteen. A "child prodigy" becomes less interesting with age, and eventually becomes "a normal adult." They wanted Thatch back before that, to reestablish his connection to their diner, before he inevitably faded out of public interest, or had to re-establish his identity as an adult cook.

And so at eleven years old, what seemed like the entire town saw off Thatch, who set sail on a small ship manned by experienced sailors, and chaperoned by the journalist who would be documenting his voyage.

For the first two years, the journey was everything Thatch had ever wanted. They would go to new islands, information provided to him by the journalist, and then he would be given free reign to do whatever he wanted, so long as it included food and cooking, which is what Thatch would have been drawn to do anyway. That there were always a handful of adults a few paces behind him, documenting everything he did and forcing him to voice his thoughts out loud, all eventually faded into the background. Thatch got used to voicing his inner thoughts for their benefit. It was hardly a chore, and Thatch was having the time of his life.

But all things eventually change. Due to the success of the column, Thatch's journalist was given a promotion, and the last stretch of his journey before Thatch was to return to his home island was assigned to a new journalist. Thatch had always known that their relationship was strictly professional, and was used to changing traveling companions at this point. It felt a bit lonely that the first journalist, the only person who had remained a constant, was leaving...but he understood.

It's just business, after all.

The new journalist replaced the old one, and their journey continued--or at least, it was supposed to.

Child!Thatch, adult Thatch would later think, was remarkably naive and sheltered for all that he was a veteran cook. He was used to having things being laid out in front of him on a neat platter, for the adults in his life to control all aspects of his life, conveniently convincing himself that it's what he wanted anyway. He was used to the adults taking care of all the details, because all Thatch had to do to make everyone happy was cook. He not once doubted those responsible for his life, and blindly trusted that they would keep everything smooth and safe for him.

Because when one day, thirteen-year old Thatch woke up to see red staining the walls of the cabin, and then looked around to find the corpses of everyone else on the ship strewn around him, it took a remarkably long time for him to process that this definitely wasn't what was supposed to happen.

He was disoriented, too numb to even feel panic or put up a fight when the new journalist came in and tied him up to pass him to the pirates who had decimated the crew.

Pirates. It wasn't the Golden Age of Piracy yet, and although the Roger Pirates and other famous names were often whispered about, most sailors didn't expect to personally run into pirates. Thatch had been warned of their existence, but hadn't really thought much on them, as they had seemed irrelevant to his own peaceful civilian adventures.

The pirates and the journalist had a deal, he gathered. The pirates had wanted to get their hands on the famous child prodigy cook, and were willing to pay good money. The journalist had agreed, and had summoned the pirates to their location. Everyone but Thatch and the journalist had been killed to erase witnesses.

Before handing Thatch off to them, the journalist demanded payment first. Thatch remembers wondering why the journalist hadn't demanded anything before agreeing to the deal--it seemed a bad business tactic.

Thatch was standing right next to the journalist when the pirate captain drew his sword. Thatch wasn't scared, because he knew he wouldn't be hurt. He was an asset. And he probably knew what would happen before the journalist did.

He still remembers feeling the whoosh of air as the sword came, the sound of it hitting flesh, the dull thunk, the loosening of the arms gripping the rope that held Thatch bound.

Thatch thought ah, so human heads can be severed just as easily as fish heads.

Thatch didn't put up a fuss, going with the pirates. It was clear he couldn't have stayed on the ransacked ship, because even if he did, he had no way of manning the ship alone, even if he even knew how. And so he wordlessly followed, and continued to do what he'd done his whole life: obey adults.

And at first it wasn't bad. A kitchen was a kitchen, no matter how dirty, and Thatch knew how to please people with food. The pirates seemed overjoyed with Thatch's skill.

But some part of Thatch really wondered if that's all they wanted from him, and that bad feeling manifested itself as reality soon.

Hey brat, the captain said one day, and dumped a sack of ingredients Thatch had never used before into the kitchen. Turn this into something good. We need to get rid of an entire rival crew, and they're gluttons.

Thatch may never have used them before, but he recognized the things in the bag. They were all things he knew to avoid.

The pirate captain was asking him to make poison.

Thatch was a cook. No matter the reasons why people wanted him to cook, no matter who benefited and what money was passed around, and no matter how terrible the conditions--Thatch was alright so long as he could cook. Thatch cooked so that he could make delicious things that would in the end, contribute to nourishing people. He polished his skills to make that experience better, to make his patrons happier, to make himself feel more accomplished as a result.

Poison...that wasn't something that a cook could make.

Thatch, for the first time, spoke back to an adult. He felt that numb feeling again, over any fear.

I'm a cook, I can't make anything that can harm people. Please let me start preparing dinner. Thatch stated it as fact, and to him, it was.

The pirate struck Thatch. It was the first time he'd ever been hit, because as a child prodigy, as an asset, he'd always been too valuable to damage. But now...

You'll make it, or we have no need for you.

Bars were added to the kitchen, making it Thatch's cell. All edible ingredients were confiscated. And every day, the pirates came in with more ingredients, more demands.

Make an aphrodisiac. Make a date rape drug. Make something that'll make someone lose feeling in their limbs. Make something that'll cause loss of senses. Make something that'll cause crazy hallucinations. Make something deadly, but undetectable in water. Make something that can dissolve guts from the inside out. Make something that won't kill, but cause excruciating pain. Make something that WILL kill, but only after several days.

The pirates didn't want a cook. They wanted a master poisons brewer. Which, Thatch was not.

Every time Thatch refused, they beat him. They threatened to cut off his legs, because why would he need them, when all he needed were his hands? They threatened to carve out his eyes, and the captain stabbed a knife close to his left eye to show how serious he was. They left Thatch with running water, but didn't give him anything to eat, other than the deadly, horrible ingredients they'd left inside the kitchen for him to turn into even worse poisons.

Thatch sorted the ingredients by those least harmful, and kept himself alive by reluctantly eating those first, but knew that the longer this continued, the more permanent and fatal the damage those ingredients would cause.

(He tried to come up with ways to use what he had to nullify effects, but he was just a kid, and it was his first time trying to make actual medicine. His experiments were risky, and often failed.)

Thatch didn't know how long he was in there, his sense of time and self muddled as he survived off of numbing agents and aphrodisiacs and hallucinogens. They barely kept him alive, and made him feel horrible. He tried to remember why it was so important he kept eating them, and rationing them like they were valuable.

In the corner of the kitchen was an ever growing pile of bright, beautiful fruits that he knew would cause immediate agonizing death...but they looked so lusciously juicy and ripe, and it was getting harder to remember why he couldn't eat them.

Perhaps it was the hallucinogens, perhaps it was everything wrong with his body that Thatch had unwillingly caused himself by eating, but one day, Thatch realized he was going through the movements of peeling those fruits, chopping them, squeezing the juices and watching with fascination as they sizzled into the bubbling pot he was brewing. He was too entranced by the concoction to even notice that his hands were burning and blistering, or perhaps they were just too numb.

He added spices, adjusted heat, and hummed. It had been too long, since he had cooked.

Except he wasn't cooking, because this wasn't food.

It smelled quite delicious, Thatch thought, mildly impressed with himself. Something tropical and fruity, mellowed by mushrooms and a great many other herbs. And it looked aesthetically pleasing, with its dancing, hypnotic colors. If he hadn't known what had gone into it, he'd consider it presentable to critics as his next seasonal special.

But now that it was done, and ready to be served, Thatch had no clue what to do with it.

He hadn't thought that far (he wasn't thinking at all), and didn't know how to think about the thing he made, when it wasn't edible.

He supposed he could possibly see if it could melt through the bars of his cell, though he wasn't sure where he'd even go if he could escape. The cell didn't have any windows, and Thatch wasn't even sure they were at an island, they could still be on open water. Thatch might be able to throw it on a pirate, as a weapon. But there were dozens of pirates on board, and not nearly enough for all of them.

He could drink it himself. It would be an escape of sorts, he supposed.

It never crossed Thatch's mind to offer the concoction to the pirates, as a creation to be used.

He stood in the kitchen for hours, aimlessly stirring the pot, watching the brew get darker and darker, its magical colors turning into murky brown. Eventually, it became a thick, black tar-like substance that reflected no light, that looked like a void as Thatch stared into it.

A thin gray haze gradually began filling the room, and Thatch was well aware of it. He was already starting to feel noticeably worse than before. He supposed that was one way of giving himself a time limit: he'd either decide what to do with the brew, or succumb to the fumes first.

He distantly heard muted sounds overhead, and he realized the pirates may be fighting someone. It happened once in a while. But it was usually with other pirates, and he doubted it was the marines, and no civilian vessel would dare get close to such an obvious pirate ship. And well, if it was pirates...that's just more of the same, wasn't it?

Thatch eventually heard footsteps approaching the room, and someone coughing as they inhaled the fumes, now dense enough to be a dark smog that made it hard to see his own hands (or maybe that was the effect of the poison in him).

A creak--the cell doors were opening.

Thatch could barely think anymore, but made a split second decision. He didn't know what the consequences would be, but had a hunch he wouldn't survive long enough to find out anyway, so what did it matter.

He picked up the pot, and hurled all of its contents at the approaching figure.

There was a FUCK! and then--

Thatch won't ever forget what happened when that brew hit a human body.

But as he fell, the last of his strength gone, wondering if he should feel horrible or proud that he killed someone on his way out, Thatch saw the room light up, the black haze vanishing into searing, brilliant turquoise flames.

~~

"And so that's how I met Marco!" Thatch says, voice surprisingly chipper, even though Sanji feels like retching.

"You melted him," Ace says flatly, voice a mix of horror and awe.

"Sure did, if he had been anyone else they probably woulda been a puddle of human goo, and even he got halfway there," Thatch agrees, his hands stroking Luffy's hair harder, as they'd been doing all throughout his story telling. "Though lucky me, to have thrown poison at possibly one of the only people in the world with instant self-regeneration and possibly immortality."

"Was he mad? Pineapple bird-man. Melting doesn't sound very fun," Luffy frowns. She'd admittedly fallen asleep for most of the story, but woke up again when Thatch's hands in her hair got more tense, more urgent. She contentedly nuzzles into his thigh, more interested in making sure that Thatch's alright than in his answer, and she purrs when he crooks his fingers to scritch her reassuringly.

"Oh sure, he was mad for a little bit, but he's a nice guy and was a worry-wort even back then, so he brought me to Pops. And well, it took a while, but we're best buddies now and have been for years! Fancy that."

Deuce was shaking his head. "I still can't believe that stupid crew wanted to take down Pops with poison of all things, and were stupid enough to enter his territory without it even being ready."

"Well, it's not like they could have won in direct combat, and to be fair, back then the Four Emperors weren't that established, and territories in the New World were a lot looser than they are now." Thatch shrugged. "If nothing else, it was a creative angle, if a poorly thought out one, unlike some people's way of challenging Pops." Ace fidgets uncomfortably here, and Deuce snorts.

"You..." Sanji's finally recovering from his queasiness, because fuck Thatch's tale really wasn't pretty, especially from a cook's perspective. "You don't mind fighting, and killing people now?" He glances at the swords strapped to Thatch's belt, and thinks about his own insistence to never use his hands in combat.

"Well, I'd prefer not to do it, same as anyone else. But I don't mind fighting in general, and once Pops adopted me, I wanted to be able to defend myself." Thatch laughs here, and it sounds bitter, making Luffy look up. "Haruta actually suggested I use poison, if I knew how to make one that could almost take down the Phoenix, and, well...that's a no. May have thrown him overboard for that, but he deserved it. I told them I was good with knives, and Vista helped me develop my own style."

The conversation moves on then, the other crew members chipping in with questions, but Sanji sort of tunes it all out. He thought he was over his queasiness, but it's back again. Being forced to brew poison, and being offered nothing but harmful things to eat...fuck. Even Judge hadn't done that...

He feels something wrap around him then, and Sanji looks down, and realizes that Luffy's looped her tail so that her flukes curl behind his back, securely holding him, even as she continues to nuzzle Thatch's leg for attention.

How weak he must be, Sanji thinks, to need his captain's comfort now. But it helps, and he gradually relaxes.

Eventually the others realize that the story's over, and disperse back to their usual tasks, leaving Thatch and Sanji and a snoozing Luffy curled around both of their laps.

"Well, I guess that explains how the boy prodigy's journey ended," Sanji says, reaching over to Thatch's side to run his hand through Luffy's hair, smiling when she hums happily.

Thatch makes a soft sound, that sounds like possibly disagreement. "Well, sure, I ended up joining the Whitebeard pirates, and never ended up going back to my hometown. Everyone thought I was dead anyway, and being on the Moby was better than any restaurant for me, because I got to feed my brothers and travel, at least wherever the Moby goes, and that's still a fine adventure in its own way. But I guess you're right in that with a territory and a literal army backing me up...it's not quite the same kind of adventure, without the trill of the unknown."

Thatch looks up then, and when his eyes sweep across their little ship, and the small crew strewn about it, he looks fond. "But I guess in a way, that's what I'm doing now, isn't it? I may no longer be a 'boy prodigy,' but me traveling with you guys, going back up the Grand Line...it's sorta like that journey again."

Sanji blinks.

"The end of that journey...maybe you're on it with me, right now." Thatch winks.

Sanji snorts. "That's so cheesy," he says, but he doesn't meant it, not really, because he can't deny the giddiness that begins welling up in him at the thought.

Because what adult doesn't still have a child inside them, buried underneath layers of years, still craving those wishful dreams from long ago?

There's a moment of silence, before both cooks break out into laughter, carefree and boyish.

And so their journey continues onward.

~~

~~

Aaand that's a wrap! For this lil story series within this ever growing AU at least!

It may be a cheesy ending, but it still feels like an ending of sorts? which, is something I usually never actually manage to write to, everything I write is usually either short or abandoned....so I Feel Accomplished ^ ^;;

If you managed to get through it all, thanks so much for reading and sticking with this!!!! ;A; I’m definitely extremely curious to know if you have any thoughts regarding my take on Thatch's past, or anything else, because as always any comments are HUGELY appreciated!

Thanks again!

❀ ❀ Send YukiPri an Ask! ❀ ❀

~This ask has been added to the Mermaid AU Text Headcanons Compilation post~

[andawaywego]

I’m the anon with the question about my prompt. No rush! I was just making sure it went through as i know that messages don’t always go through on this site lol. Mine was that Dani and Jamie get stuck in an elevator. Dani freaks out like she does in the first episode when the kids lock her in the closet and Jamie does her best to calm Dani down. Thank you for being so kind and doing this for the fandom 💕

hello again, love. i really felt this prompt and i might have taken it in a bit of a different direction than you initially intended. my apologies for that, but i hope you like it and that it fits the bill all the same.

i had another prompt regarding how Jamie would handle Dani’s panic attacks after they got together, as well, so this goes out to that person too!

..

Life in America is taking some getting used to. Life with Dani is taking some getting used to. Sometimes, it feels like Jamie is drowning in the unknown, in the uncertainty of everything around them—tidal wave after tidal wave of newness smashing into her every moment of every day.

Living with someone—sharing your life with someone—is like taking a crash course in everything that makes them them.

Dani forgets to blow candles out sometimes. She leaves her shampoo bottle open in the shower. She folds towels differently and likes to make the bed every morning. When she gets hungry, she gets really grouchy and is always surprised when eating makes her feel better. She chews at her lips when she’s lost in thought, sometimes leaving them sore and a little bloody. When Jamie buys her gum from the supermarket, she’ll chew it for hours on end and then complain that the flavor is gone.

Her mother comes knocking on the door of their apartment about five months into the whole thing, teary-eyed and touchy as she hugs Dani and apologizes for the long weeks of silence after that last phone call. Jamie hovers in the kitchen, pretending to clean or straighten the cupboards while they talk in the living room. She would hide in the bedroom, but she would have to walk past them to get there.

It’s some time later that Dani catches Jamie’s eye and waves her over, standing up as Jamie approaches and taking her hand. A united front as they stand above Dani’s mother, seated on the couch.

“Mom,” Dani says slowly, like she’s testing the word out on her tongue, “this is Jamie.”

And, of course, Jamie knows about that phone call, about her mother’s reaction to the news—her daughter’s supposed “abandonment” in moving states and states away from home; her shiny, new lifestyle and living with a girlfriend and all those things that made her keep them both at arm’s length.

But now, Mrs. Clayton is only silent for a breath or two before she gets to her feet, looking Jamie directly in the eyes as she says, “The famous Jamie. Nice to finally meet you.”

She shakes Jamie’s hand and there might be some hostility there—some lingering feeling that maybe Jamie seduced and corrupted her daughter—but her smile is genuine enough. Dani squeezes the hand she’s holding and grins and grins.

She hadn’t needed her mother’s approval, of course, but having it is nice enough anyway.

The visit is set to last a week, going right up to Christmas, and then Angela Clayton will be flying back to Ohio. Maybe it’s wrong of her, but Jamie is relieved, wanting nothing more than to spend this first Christmas with Dani on their own. 

That’s plenty of time, however, for Angela to invade their lives and inhabit every inch of their space. She cooks dinner every night, comes by their shop to steal Dani away for the afternoon—leaving Jamie to run things on her own. She pesters Dani endlessly with questions about her time in England and most of the answers she gets are lies. Blatant ones at that. 

It makes Jamie nervous, Dani having to be constantly reminded of all those things they haven’t been discussing. She does her best to provide what comfort she can without going overboard—a hand on her knee for just a few brief seconds; a touch to her shoulder. 

Saying I’m here and it’s okay, love as simply as she can manage without calling too much attention to it. This tentative truce and understanding between mother and daughter feels like a game of Jenga and the last thing Jamie wants to do is send the whole thing crashing to the floor.

But she sees the way Dani’s spine straightens with each question. The way she flinches at certain words or thoughts. These aren’t new things, necessarily—she’s seen them since they left Bly—but they start happening all the more frequently with Angela around.

Everything breaks on a Sunday, the last day of Angela’s visit. They’re at the shopping mall because Angela insisted on looking for Christmas presents for them—some overcompensation for her brand of mothering, perhaps, which actually involves less mothering and more smothering the longer it goes on. Jamie shoulders her way through two hours of trailing after her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s mother in silence, holding shopping bags and nodding whenever her opinion is needed, which is rare. 

Towels and bath mats and sheets. Cutlery and a crockpot and a floor lamp. Things that they definitely don’t need Angela to buy piling up the longer it goes on. 

But grin and bear it is Dani’s particular method of shuffling on, so Jamie does her best to follow her lead.

Eventually, they manage to break away for a little while—Dani citing a headache that might be hunger and wiggling out from beneath her mother’s thumb long enough to go to the food court. Angela is reluctant, but eventually waves them off, taking the bags from Jamie so she can continue looking in the shop they’re in. 

Out in the bustle of the mall again, Dani shakes her head and offers her girlfriend an apologetic smile. 

“Sorry,” she says, “I know she’s not the easiest to deal with.”

Jamie shakes her head. “She’s fine,” she returns, not a lie exactly but a slanting of the truth. “She loves you a lot.”

Dani sighs. “Out of guilt, maybe. She’s never been very good at showing it. Could have used this mom back when I was still a kid.” 

Here is where the conversation breaks. There are a few things that Jamie could say, all of which have been said before during any discussion of their respective mothers. A little comfort could be offered, pat on the shoulder, squeeze of the hand and all that. But she’s learning more about Dani every day and there are other ways to turn the conversation around. 

So she grins, loops her arms through Dani’s, and turns them toward the other end of the mall where the escalators down to the food court await. “Let’s get some greasy mall food in you, Poppins,” she says. “Perk you right up.”

Dani laughs, leaning into Jamie a little as they go. 

And maybe it’s the length of the day or the presence of her mother. Maybe it’s all those long talks where the truth of what happened was never mentioned. Maybe it’s some residual nightmare still flooding her veins with every beat of her heart.

Maybe it’s some combination of all three.

When Dani stops to look into the display window of a bookstore, smiling at the winter scene set up—two puppet-like elves reading books in the back of a miniature sleigh—something happens. Jamie isn’t certain at first what it is. But one moment, Dani is completely fine, halfway through a remark about the fake snow the shop used and the next she’s falling deathly silent, eyes wide and fixed on the window. 

As if she’s a ghost. It’s possible, given everything, that she has. 

“Dani?” Jamie asks, careful not to touch her, not to startle her. “Dani, love, what is it?”

Dani is silent, tears filling her eyes which are fixed at some specific spot in the window. Jamie surveys her own reflection, then Dani’s. Behind them is a group of people hanging out and looking down the balcony to the lower level. One of them, a woman, is wearing a pale white dress that brushes her knees. She has long, dark hair and she’s standing very still, probably listening to whatever the man beside her is saying, and Jamie understands.

“Dani, baby, come on,” Jamie says. “I’m going to touch you, okay? I need you to come with me.”

There isn’t a response to this, but she hadn’t exactly expected there to be. She reaches out and lightly grabs the material of Dani’s coat sleeve over her wrist, using it to gently guide her girlfriend away from the woman’s reflection in the window. She’s not quite sure where to go, where would be safe enough to bring Dani back into the moment, into the here and now. It’s like the blind leading the blind.

There’s an elevator just up ahead and it’s not the best choice, but Jamie doesn’t really have any others. She doesn’t feel safe guiding Dani to the escalators or stairs like this and she just wants to get them as far away from that window as possible. By some miracle, there is no queue of mother-manned strollers awaiting entry and they are the only two inside when Jamie gets them there.

She guides Dani in and releases her as the doors shut. The mall has three floors and the food court is on the bottom one, so Jamie presses the button labeled 1 and watches it light up. With a shuddering start, the elevator starts moving, sliding them down to the second floor. 

Jamie is busy trying to figure out her next plan of action when another thing happens:

The lights above them flicker a few times and then darkness falls as the elevator comes to a jarring halt. The tinny Christmas music that had been playing from the speakers in the corners of the elevator stops playing and then there is only silence.

Silence and Dani taking quick and shallow breaths. 

Jamie jabs her finger into the emergency alarm, wincing as a buzzing ring echoes around the small space. It’s a busy mall, she tells herself. Someone will be there soon to fix it and get them on their way. And, until then, they’re going to have to just be in the darkness.

“Dani,” she whispers, the blackness around her swallowing the word.

She can hear Dani’s breathing as it speeds up, followed by a pillowy thump that is probably her falling back against the mirrored wall. She takes a couple of careful steps forward, arm thrust out to keep from running into anything. Eventually, her hand meets the fake-fur lining of Dani’s coat. 

“Dani,” she says again, but there is only silence. 

This close she can feel her girlfriend’s stuttered breath against her face, can hear the little gasp at the height of each one. She, herself, is beginning to panic, just from the overwhelming dark and the idea of being trapped like this. She can only imagine what Dani is feeling. 

“Dani, baby, it’s okay. Everything is okay,” she tries, knowing how silly and futile those words are against whatever it is Dani is trying to fight off. 

There is a gasping sob next, Dani sucking in air, and Jamie recalls that moment out front of Bly all those months ago. They’d been strangers then and still so innocent to the shadows coming their way. But she can recall the tremble of Dani’s shoulders, how unhinged she looked. How it had taken everything inside of her not to pull Dani into her arms even then. 

Now, it’s even harder. She can hardly stand it.

“Dani, it’s me. It’s Jamie.” For some reason, it feels so important to tell her this—as if Dani might have forgotten who she’s with or where she is. It feels so important to keep saying her name, too, to keep trying to ground her and keep her from floating away. “Can I touch you?”

There’s no answer. A few long seconds of silence pass and then she feels Dani’s hand grip her own, squeeze her tightly. Gently as she can, Jamie cradles it in both of her own and lifts it, presses it to the side of her own face. Dani’s fingers uncurl as she does this, cupping Jamie’s cheek, thumb brushing along her eyebrows and eyelashes. Tracing their familiar shape in the darkness.

“Just breathe, baby,” she says because Dani is still gasping, still hyperventilating. “All the way in. All the way out.” She demonstrates it, breathing in slowly and then breathing out the same way. Making it audible. “Breathe like me, Dani. Just breathe like me.”

Another hand comes up, this one resting on her chest above her sweater. Feeling the rise and fall with every breath Jamie takes. Dani struggles to mimic her, but it evens out after a minute, sounding more and more steady. 

“There you go,” Jamie encourages. Her eyes feel hot and itchy and she knows she’s crying even though she can’t see anything. She can feel the drip of tears from her jaw. “That’s so good. Keep breathing. Breathe like me.”

This isn’t forever, she reminds herself. There are probably people working on getting the elevator running right now. Any moment, the lights are going to turn on and they’re going to be okay. They’ll get to the first floor and step out into the bright fluorescents and Dani will be alright. Breathing normally. Present. Okay.

“It’s gonna pass,” Jamie tells her. “I’m here. We’re here. We’re okay.”

Dani taps her finger lightly on Jamie’s chest. “Okay,” she whispers, voice breaking. “Okay.”

“Yeah, we’re okay. Where are we okay, Dani?” she asks. “Where are we?”

She read somewhere about this—in some magazine in a waiting room at a doctor’s office. Remembers reading about questions like that one. About what it means to ground another person.

“V-Vermont,” Dani answers. “The mall.”

“That’s right. That’s so good.” Another tap. Jamie presses Dani’s hand, the one holding her face, a little closer. “What’s your name? What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Danielle,” Dani says without hesitation. 

“Who am I?” 

A pause here and Jamie is worried for one second when she hears Dani’s breath stutter again, come out a little more pained. But then the hand on her chest lifts, curls around the back of her neck, fingers curling into her hair. “Jamie,” Dani breathes, pulling Jamie in closer until their foreheads are resting together. “My Jamie.”

Jamie nods against Dani’s forehead. Closes her eyes. “Your Jamie. That’s right, Dani. Your Jamie.”

“My Jamie,” Dani repeats and she’s crying still, shaking, but she sounds more and more like herself. “I’m okay. I’m okay. We’re okay.” Her fingers comb through Jamie’s hair as she says it and Jamie brings her own hand up, cupping the other woman’s jaw in her hands and wiping away her tears with her thumbs. 

“We’re okay. Me and you.”

“Me and you.” 

They stand there like that for a long time. Jamie isn’t sure how long, but, eventually the elevator’s lights are on again. There’s a voice coming through the speaker—a man telling them they’ve got it running again; apologizing—and then they’re moving again. In the time it takes to descend, Jamie pulls away and manages to wipe the rest of Dani’s tears away. Get her own as well. Straighten themselves out.

Two maintenance workers and a man in a suit are waiting for them at the bottom, apologetic and flummoxed. Jamie fields their apologies with Dani’s hand in her own and Dani comes back into herself all the way. 

Me and you, Jamie thinks when they’re alone again, pulling Dani to the side of the elevator, out of the way, so they can get their bearings all the way. 

There’s a beast in the jungle, yes. Lurking. Waiting. Sometimes it rustles in the bushes, makes noises at the edge of their camp. Rakes its nails down the bark of a tree, snapping twigs and leaving shadows in its wake as it slinks back into the darkness.

There’s nothing, really, that Jamie can do about that. But she can add logs to the fire, shine a flashlight in the darkest of corners. She can hold Dani close and press her mouth to her forehead. She can whisper quiet assurances to her and vow to never let her go for as long as she lives.

This is part of their life together. Jamie is learning that, too.

And, in the life she led before Dani—without Dani—there were so many things that she couldn’t handle.

But loving Dani through whatever storms that come their way is not one of them.

..

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hey ... My name is Clara. I discovered your blog right now and I was surprised that I was not the only one who fell in love with our J. 💜 Recently I am feeling very bad with my appearance because I am albino and this has always left me very insecure, and also limit what I can do or do not. I really wanted to know how the Joker would react to my insecurities, if possible. I don't know if you don't feel comfortable writing something about my condition, so forgive me if I was inconvenient.💜💚😔

Hi, Clara!!!💙 

You are most definitely not the only one who loves J; there’s so many of us here who love that stinky feral trash panda 😂 I’m so sorry to hear that you’ve been feeling badly about your appearance, my love, that’s such a heavy feeling and you don’t deserve that at all, not even for a moment. I did some quick research on albinism and I’ve done my best to write as accurately and as respectfully as I can; please correct me if anything is wrong, my love, and know that it is completely unintentional!💗 I had a lot to say about this, so I’ve done some quick headcanons for you!💚 I hope you like them! 💝You’re never an inconvenience, angel! I’m so sorry for such a late reply. Life’s been A Lot recently but I’m using today, a rare day off, to do as much as I can! But I digress...

J reacting to an s/o who is insecure about their albinism 

Word count: 656.

I just want to start off by saying that J doesn’t care. Not in a nasty way, but he accepts people as they are for all that they are. He’s very open minded and non-judgemental; you accept him and he accepts you, that’s as simple as it gets with a man as complex as J.

J doesn’t care about your appearance. He just doesn’t. Not that he would ever say this out loud, and especially to you, but in the back of his head, J thinks it would be largely hypocritical of him if he did care about your appearance, what with his own macabre makeup, ghastly scar (in his mind; to everyone else he’s beautiful) and eccentric, brightly coloured suit. 

When he finds out that you sometimes get insecure about your appearance, J is genuinely confused. What is there to be insecure about?

He sits down beside you and you catch the confusion which flashes across his face. His chocolate gaze is fixed on your face and though he looks completely unbothered, the way that his knees are facing you tells you that he wants to understand.

J wants to know you, his latest and greatest puzzle, and all of your insecurities spill past your lips like someone left a tap running. 

You tell him everything and when you’re done, J is quiet for a few moments as his mind ticks over your words. He listens to you but he hears everything that you don’t say and these are the things which he focuses on, the things which he responds to.

He’s a man of his word, after all, and though he’s also a man of action, you can trust him when he tells you, “I, ah - don’t care, doll. Ya’ you no matter what ya’ look like, hm? Ya’ condition doesn’t define ya’ - you define you.”

J can see that you’re not wholly convinced, so he slings an arm around your shoulders and he pulls you into him, pressing a messy and deliberately sloppy kiss to the top of your head. He makes an exaggerated “mwah” noise as he pulls away and it makes you smile.

“There ya’ are.” Is all J says and that’s that. He accepted you for all of you a long time ago and he never questions anything beyond surface level curiosity; it’s more fun to learn on the go, and goodness knows that you never get your own answers to questions about J, so why should he receive answers to his questions? That’s hardly fair.

He accepts your condition as it is and he does everything he can to help you and to aid your way, especially visually. 

When J first came to your home (he crashed through your window, battered and bleeding, in pain, soaked from the rain and cackling the whole time), he noticed that the light in the room was kept low and he also picked up immediately on anything else which you have in place, and J always makes sure that those things are maintained. 

If there’s no way to protect you or make things easier on you within a certain setting, then J won’t take you there and he’ll make... alternative arrangements which usually involves killing several goons once they have helped him to set up a ‘date’.

J is a man of his word and after the first time when you were taken aback that J had gone to such lengths for you, he said, “I’ll - ah, always protect ya’, doll. I’m a man of my word.” He meant it, too. 

J is very protective of his possessions and though he doesn’t own you, though you aren’t an object, you are his and so you fall under the same category.

There’s nothing he won’t do for you and J proves this time and again. 

Destructive raccoon boii(tm)  @jokersspookyhyena   @anyatheladyclown   @joker-daddy    @rinbyo    @imightaswellnotexistatall    @vladtoly    @joker-is-my-hero    @liz-rdwitch   @enigmaticandunstable      @ledgerskitten  @tsukiakarinobara    @germansarechill   @antonija89   @acw1   @harlequinautumn     @mermaleizroseglasses   @justawriterinprogress     @truthbehindthemysteries  @hotpacino @call-me-harley-quinn   @mermaidpowers1

[codythecheshirecat]

Is This The Start, Midpoint, or Finale? Chapter 4: Passing Time

Codywan Merman/Modern AU

Story Summary: Cody has spent the last several months recovering from a car crash that completely upturned his life. When spending a day on the St. Lawrence River, he finds something that should be impossible– a merman. An injured merman. And, well, there’s not much to do except bring him home and fix him up.

Read on AO3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33756109/chapters/85388758

A week passes. They quickly make a schedule. Breakfast at nine, lunch at noon, dinner at six. Early on Cody has to run to the store to get things for Obi-Wan’s liquid diet-- he’s an omnivore too, so Cody doesn’t have to worry about finding replacements for meat, exactly. Which is good. They make an agreement about their respective recoveries, too; Obi-Wan won’t overexert himself so long as Cody doesn’t, they’ll take their medicines at the same times (dosages allowing, at least), and having someone to talk to makes it easier to ignore their respective pains and aches, anyway.

Two days into the week, Obi-Wan asks for some softer blankets. Cody doesn’t actually have any, so he runs to the store and buys some of the fuzziest throw blankets he can find. He buys some other things, too, just in case-- a pair of boxers, a single cotton shirt, a pair of mesh gym shorts, and a knee-length plaid skirt with an elastic waistband. He’s not entirely sure they’ll fit Obi-Wan, but he’s pretty good at eyeing sizes and it’s better to have them just in case he needs to cover up.

He gives the blankets to Obi-Wan, but keeps the clothes hidden for the time being. He also has to help Obi-Wan get situated with the blankets-- one to cover the couch (so Obi-Wan can lay on it rather than the couch, which he also calls scratchy) and one to cover him (despite Cody’s protests).

Obi-Wan finds himself enraptured with the TV. News, cartoons, soap operas, and everything in between. Cody supposes it must seem pretty strange; a box with hundreds, thousands of different stories to watch. They watch Jeopardy every night, and while Obi-Wan rarely knows the answers, he seems to enjoy it.

Cody also answers every question Obi-Wan has, and he has a lot. Sometimes he has a question about a word or phrase-- he hadn’t learned English in an academic setting, or even by being surrounded by English speakers. He’d had one person teach him what he knew, and so he has plenty of gaps in his knowledge. Sometimes Obi-Wan has questions about technology. Other times he has questions about animals. At one point they have a two hour discussion on American culture, with short interludes into other world cultures.

Another thing that takes up their time is the realization that Obi-Wan can’t read. He can read in his own language, sure, but the person that had taught him to speak English hadn’t taught him to read it. The English Alphabet is an utter mystery to him. So, Cody spends quite a bit of time teaching him the alphabet.

Despite all of their talking, though, Cody notices that Obi-Wan rarely talks about himself. He’ll reference things, sometimes, people, and Cody’s aware enough not to pry. If Obi-Wan doesn’t want to talk about his past, then he probably has a reason. Cody’s just happy he’s talking, honestly. It gives him someone to talk to, instead of wallowing in his own misery.

Another week passes. Kix stops by, checks up on them-- both of them, and Cody gets treated to a ten minute lecture on how to properly take care of himself so he heals correctly. Cody doesn’t tell him that Obi-Wan can’t walk so Cody has to help him get around when he has to use the bathroom. Obi-Wan also gets cleared to start eating real food, so long as they slowly reintroduce him.

One night while they’re eating dinner-- chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy-- Obi-Wan turns to him. “You never told me how you got hurt.”

Cody pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. He sets his fork back on his plate. He doesn’t look at Obi-Wan. “You didn’t tell me how you got hurt, either.”

Obi-Wan frowns. “Fair enough.” He goes back to eating.

Somehow, that only serves to make Cody feel worse. He sighs. “Car crash.” “Do those happen often?” Obi-Wan says.

Cody looks at him. There’s nothing but genuine curiosity on his face. “Yeah, but with the amount of people using cars it’s not unexpected, I guess. It’s not enough to make people think driving isn’t worth it.”

“I see.” Obi-Wan tilts his head. “I assume it was fairly bad, or recent, if you’re still recovering.”

Cody sniffs. “Both. I was in the hospital for a few months.”

“I’m terribly sorry.”

Cody leans over and sets his plate on the coffee table. He isn’t hungry anymore. “I’m fine. The others involved weren’t so lucky.”

Obi-Wan sucks in a breath. “Oh, dear. I shouldn’t- I shouldn’t have said anything. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Another look at Obi-Wan shows that his ears have turned red. He’s watching Cody with a devastated look on his face; a pursed mouth and wide, wide eyes. Cody sighs and shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. You didn’t know. I didn’t even know the others involved.”

“Still…” Obi-Wan says. He reaches out and wraps a hand around Cody’s wrist. “I understand. Sometimes… sometimes it’s hard being the survivor.”

***

“What books are those?”

Cody sits on the couch by Obi-Wan’s feet. “They’re kid’s books. When I was looking for my old wheelchair for you I found a whole bunch in the series in a box in the basement; I used to read them when I was a kid, same as most of my brothers. Rex must’ve kept them as we grew out of them.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to read a kid’s book?”

Cody shrugs, grinning. “I want to see if they’re any good now that I’m an adult. Probably not, but it’ll be funny to reread the books that used to terrify me as a kid and now realize that they’re incredibly ridiculous.”

He holds up the four in his hands so Obi-Wan can see the covers. “These were my favorites. Werewolf of Fever Swamp, Say Cheese and Die, A Night in Terror Tower, and Night of the Living Dummy.”

He lets Obi-Wan read them at his own pace. He’s learning quickly, quicker than children do, but then again, he is a full-grown adult. Obi-Wan hums. “So they’re supposed to be scary? And for children?”

“Yeah.” Cody sets the books in his lap. “They aren’t that bad, or they wouldn’t have been marketed for kids. And honestly, they aren’t always scary-- I don’t think I was scared by Werewolf of Fever Swamp once. It was more of an adventure than anything else.”

“Intriguing.” Obi-Wan leans forward. “Could you read one to me?”

Cody grins, suddenly elated. “Which one?”

“Surprise me.”

Cody opens up Night of the Living Dummy and starts reading.

***

With a grunt, Cody sets Obi-Wan in the half-filled bathtub. He stands.

“Thank you, Cody.” Obi-Wan says. His face is pink.

Cody shrugs, his own face hot. “It’s no problem.”

“You’re always helping me get around, even with that wheelchair. It seems a tad unfair.” Obi-Wan runs a hand through the water. He sighs. “Oh, it’s nice to be in the water again.”

Cody rubs the back of his head. “Sorry your whole tail won’t fit.”

Obi-Wan smiles at him. It makes his stomach swoop. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’ll deal.”

Cody steps back as Obi-Wan’s tail begins to transform. His legs morph together, become red, and grow-- and Obi-Wan’s long tail spreads across the tiny bathroom. Now that he’s able to get a better look at it, Cody decides that it’s definitely eel-like. There are rosettes of darker red patterned across it, with flecks of yellow here and there, too.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Cody says, catching himself staring. “Uh, I know you said you don’t need soap, but I put a washcloth over the faucet in case you wanted to scrub yourself down. To empty the tub all you have to do is flick the lever below the faucet. If you want to refill, just flick the lever again and twist the handle to the left. The further left you go, the warmer the water gets.”

“Thank you, Cody.”

Cody smiles. “Just call for me when you’re done.”

He steps around Obi-Wan’s tail and heads for the door where the wheelchair waits.

“Oh, Cody?”

He stops. “Yeah?” He turns to look at Obi-Wan.

“Ah… do you think you could teach me to walk? I hate making you carry me around.”

Oh. Huh. “Yeah, I can do that.”

***

Cody sits on the edge of the coffee table, facing Obi-Wan. “Are you ready?”

Obi-Wan nods, jaw set. “Yes.”

Cody leans forward. He tucks his arms under Obi-Wan’s and wraps them around his back. Obi-Wan grips Cody’s shoulders, and slowly, Cody stands, lifting Obi-Wan with him. For a few moments, they wobble as Cody supports the two of them. At least he’s wearing the skirt I bought him.

All in all, it’s probably not the best way to teach Obi-Wan to walk. But he doesn’t have all the equipment that his PT does, and Obi-Wan isn’t relearning to walk after an injury like most people do. Babies learn to walk from trial and error, so… Obi-Wan can do that too. Still, it’s a somewhat awkward position, and Cody won’t be able to hold them both upright forever. 

“Balance, Obi-Wan.” Cody says.

Obi-Wan snorts, tilting his head forward. His forehead almost touches Cody’s. “My knees do not want to cooperate, Cody.”

“They’re no different than your elbows.” Cody looks down. His feet are planted, firm, but Obi-Wan’s… he’s standing pigeon-toed on the balls of his feet, knees shaking like a scared cartoon character. Cody chuckles. “You’ve stood before.”

“That was weeks ago.” Obi-Wan says. “I was more injured, yes, but my legs had much more muscle than they do now.”

It’s true, but it’s not like Obi-Wan’s been doing nothing with his legs. He’s crawled several times, for various reasons mostly due to Cody not being around, and he hasn’t been immune to restless leg syndrome, either. But, well. Eventually Obi-Wan’s legs straighten out and his balance improves.

“Think you can take a few steps?” Cody asks him.

Obi-Wan huffs. “You’re doing all the hard work. Yes, I think I can manage a few steps.”

Cody grins. Obi-Wan does the same. Carefully, Cody maneuvers them around and takes a step back. Obi-Wan takes an uncoordinated step forward. Then they do it again, and again, and again. He takes another step back, and-- his leg locks up. He has a brief moment to think oh no, and his leg gives out. They collapse in a heap on the ground.

His head bounces (fairly lightly, in Cody’s opinion) off the floor. His back hurts, his leg hurts. Obi-Wan rolls off of him with a groan. Cody turns his head to look at him. “Are you alright,  Obi-Wan?”

Obi-Wan rubs his still-bandaged side. “Yes, I’m fine. I don’t think I reopened anything. Was that your leg?”

“Guess I overtaxed myself.” Cody sits up. He sighs. “You’d think that after all this time I wouldn’t still be having issues like that.”

“Recovery isn’t a straight line.” Obi-Wan says. “But, you know, that could have been worse. At least we didn’t fall onto the coffee table?” “That’s fair.” Cody says, and with another sigh, he flops back on the ground as dramatically as he can. “I think I’m just going to stay here for a minute.”

Obi-Wan snorts. “Well, allow me to join you.”

***

Cody rubs his eyes. He’s fucking exhausted; he’s been awake for far too long at this point and he’s still got several hours to go before he can sleep. And, of course, he’s driving, which really creates just a terrible situation. He rubs his eyes again.

Twenty more minutes and he’ll be home…

Cody snaps awake. Oh, thank god. His heart beats faster than is healthy, but he knows it’ll go away soon enough, as long as he doesn’t get caught up in a panic attack. He rolls out of bed. Somehow, it’s nine in the morning. He rarely sleeps this late, waking up around seven-thirty, eight o’clock. He may not be working right now, but that’s no excuse to be sleeping this late.

He makes his way into the living room. Unlike every other day before at this time, Obi-Wan isn’t on the couch. Hm. “Obi-Wan?”

“In here!” Obi-Wan shouts from the kitchen. His voice is strained. 

Cody walks into the kitchen. He finds, caught between amusement and trepidation, that Obi-Wan is holding himself up at the counter. The wheelchair is right behind him. Obi-Wan grins.

“...having fun?” Cody asks, walking over. He stops in front of the wheelchair.

“I’m making coffee.” He says pleasantly. “I only need one arm for that, so I can use my other to hold myself up. I was going to wake you.”

A smile stretches across Cody’s face, unbidden. “Thank you.” He puts a gentle hand on his shoulder. “But please, sit down before you fall.”

“I’m fine, Cody.”

“Get in the wheelchair. Please.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and sighs. “Yes, alright. Help me?”

Cody guides him back into the wheelchair, and together they wait for the coffee to brew. Obi-Wan wheels himself to the fridge to get milk-- Cody prefers his coffee black, and Obi-Wan prefers tea, but when he does drink coffee, he uses a lot of milk. Coffee made, they retreat to the living room. Obi-Wan gets himself settled in his spot. Cody sits next to him and hands him his coffee.

“Perhaps I could start with the walker.” Obi-Wan says.

Cody gives him a look. “I think you have some time still. Your legs-”

“-my legs are in fine shape.” Obi-Wan protests.

“The muscles have atrophied. And your side still isn’t healed.”

“Cody.”

“Obi-Wan.” They stare at each other. “After Rex gets back, at least.”

“Well I didn’t mean tomorrow, Cody.” Obi-Wan huffs. He turns serious. “Cody.”

Cody raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“Thank you for being so kind to me. You had no reason to.” He sighs. “And you get nothing out of teaching me to walk, yet you’ve been supportive in every way.”

Cody gives him a gentle smile. “It hasn’t been a problem. You needed help, and I wasn’t going to turn my back. Besides,” he grins, “now I can focus on you instead of my own problems.”

“I’m glad I’ve been of help in that regard.” Obi-Wan says dryly. Without warning, he leans closer.

Cody swallows. “I was thinking. Rex should be home by the end of the week. I’ll have to introduce you. But before that, I really should go grocery shopping. Do you want to go with me?”

Obi-Wan blinks. A smile stretches across his face. “I would love to.”

***

“What is this?” Obi-Wan asks, pointing at a pear.

“That’s a pear. It’s a fruit, like apples.” Cody says. “I’ll get it for you, if you want to try it.”

“Oh, no, I was just curious as to what it was.”

Cody rolls his eyes. “If you say so.”

They move on to the meat section, Cody pushing the cart with Obi-Wan wheeling behind. Later, cashing out, Cody sees a singular pear sitting on the belt, and grins.