#the signs are pretty simple i just don’t know my freaking STATES

[dancingcapybaras]

what do u mean i have to memorize all 50 states of the US of A in ASL

[theepisceswriter]

Doing dirty things w/ AOT characters while you two most definitely shouldn’t be (Reiner, Erwin, Zeke, Levi)

A/N: my faithful stoned thot anon, shoutout to you for this request and I hope this was something like you were imagining in your mind. I know you only asked for simple mundane tasks, but I wanted to be extra and include more situations. I can’t wait to work on the other ones you sent me !

Synopsis: Basically, you’re trying to do a task that requires a lot of your attention or you to be silent (like on the phone, out to eat with friends, etc), but your partner really really needs some attention in that moment. I suck at descriptions sorry 🥴 If you see any typos no u didn’t, but really I was too lazy to proofread.

TW: Modern AU, hehe naughtiness obviously, choking for Zeke, also embarrassment, fembodied!reader, 18+, MINORS DNI!

REINER BRAUN: Movie night with friends

Reiner just couldn’t help himself, he really couldn’t. The first sight of you in your silky pajama shorts and this man’s thoughts were going crazy watching you parade around the house as you grabbed the snacks and needed materials for tonight’s movie night with some of you guys’ friends. Luckily the fabric of his pajama pants were loose enough to hide the growing boner in his pants, but of course he made it known to you by approaching you from behind and pressing it against your ass so you could feel just how hard you had made him simply by looking pretty.

His hands began to roam all over your body, stealing a grope of your breast, and his mouth attached to your neck, taking breaks in between kisses to tell you how good you look and how much you riled him up. As good as it all felt, Pieck and Porco were only right down the street, so you took his hands off of your body with promises of making him feel better later in the night once they had left. You’re lucky he doesn’t like quickies like that and prefers to take his time with you or else he would’ve taken you right there up against that counter chile.

Pieck and Porco finally arrive and what was supposed only be one movie turned into two, and now here you were snuggled up under Reiner on a completely different couch than Porco and Pieck while they flipped through a catalogue on the television looking for a new movie to start up; Reiner growing more and more impatient as the minutes went on. The constant caressing on your thigh and pinches he would give your nipples every now and then giving that away completely.

You got tired of fighting his advances off a long time ago and part of you wanted him to continue, to see how far he would actually go, because truth is you wanted him just as much as he wanted you right now. You were just a lot better at hiding it.

It was halfway through the movie that he finally decides to make a drastic move, moving you to a position where your back was pressed against his chest and tapping your hips, signifying for you to raise them so he could pull your shorts down to your thighs.

“Sit still for the rest of the night and I’ll reward us both so good once they leave.” He’d whisper in your ear. The only warning you’d get before he’s slowly easing his cock into you careful not to stretch you out too much, but the wetness that accumulated between your legs all night long makes it so you swallow him completely. A shocked moan leaving both of your lips, but luckily being silenced by the action scene on the tv; both Porco and Pieck too into it to even pay attention to the two of you.

So desperately you wanted to swirl your hips up against you, create any sort of friction to make his cock hit that spot in your soft velvety walls that left you clenching and squealing and him growling into your ears, but instead you had to be as still as possible while cockwarming him. Not being too careful would surely draw the attention of the other two, but Reiner still tested the waters every now and then by shifting every so often on purpose to cause movement.

He was even able to draw a weird moan out of you once that had Porco and Pieck looking over at you like you were crazy, questioning if you were okay which you had no choice but to reply yes to. Barely able to get that out because the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you mixed with your walls clenching around him was a whole sensation on its own.

“Careful, you don’t want them knowing that I’m balls deep in you right now would you? Or would a slut like you enjoy that; them knowing that your pussy is swallowing my cock whole right now?”

Reiner is degrading during sex sometimes and you cannot tell me otherwise #sorrynotsorry.

And when he said the two of you would be staying like this the whole night until they left he absolutely meant it. After that little moaning incident he surprisingly acted normal the whole night, like the two of you weren’t even doing what you were doing underneath the cover. Knowing how torturous it must be for him to deny you the skin to skin contact and hip bucking you needed from him.

ERWIN SMITH: In a restaurant surrounded by friends

You never thought Erwin to be the bold type to try something out in public with you. The closest thing the two of you have done to it was a quick quickie in his office once with you pressed against the window of the skyscraper building it was located in, but even then you could feel the anxiety in his muscles as he pressed himself up against you; scared of an assistant or important business partner to come barging in on the two of you.

So you can imagine the shock on your face when you were spending the night out with friends at a restaurant, preoccupied with listening to Levi’s horror stories at his tea shop when you felt the ghostly tingles of Erwin’s fingers trail up on your thigh. A hand on your knee was nothing, something he had done plenty of times as a small sign of PDA, but this was different. You looked over to him with a questioned look in your eyes, but his kept his eyes straight and responded to you physically by pressing his thumb against the cloth that separated his finger from your clit.

Almost immediately you choked on the spit going down your throat which garnered the attention from everyone else at the table asking if you were alright. Everyone but Erwin turned to you and if they were truly paying attention that would’ve been a major sign that something was up, but your quick, “I’m okay!” Response had them off your back in an instance and only edged Erwin on more, fingers pushing your panties to the side as he continued on.

The food in front of you hadn’t been touched in around 10 mins since you found yourself full before you were able to finish it all, but you had to pick up your fork and abruptly take a bite of of it when you felt Erwin’s long fingers plunge into you with ease from your wetness and curl up into you; the metal between your teeth the best attempt you had at covering up your moans.

You swear you saw a slight smirk on his lips when you glanced over at him because he’s a menace to society like that.

His hands moved so languidly inside of you hitting all the right spots and pressing down on the sensitive parts of you that always guaranteed a reaction out of you. While also simultaneously still rubbing your clit with his thumb in wide circles, enjoying every twist and turn he saw your face do as you tried desperately to hold your moans in.

At one point, to mess with you even more, he leaned in and whispered into your ear, “You think all these people know that your cunt is clenching around my fingers about to cum?�� No one else heard him but you, but it definitely drew the attention of Levi who threw a confused look your way. To which you could only reply to with a smile and awkward chuckle that almost broke out into a moan because Erwin thought it would be a good idea to speed up his fingers.

You didn’t care how obvious it looked anymore, your teeth found comfort in the skin of his arm to stifle moans and your fingers had a death grip on his thighs as your orgasm hit you like a wave. Leaving you with nothing to do but grind your hips down into his fingers slowly to not draw attention as you rode out his orgasm. His fingers were covered in your slick as he pulled them off of you and instead of being discreet and wiping them on his pants or even your dress, he picked up a small dessert off his plate and turned to you. Feeding it to you and sticking his fingers a little too far in your mouth so you can clean your own orgasm off of your fingers. His thumb going between his own lips once he took his fingers out of your mouth and sucking on it gently. “That was delicious.” He would state, never breaking eye contact with you.

The tent in his dressy slacks gave away all the excitement he was feeling on the inside as he watched you squirm in your seat while he did something so naughty to you in public. He couldn’t take it anymore, placing his share of the bill on the table and excusing the both of you for the night before going around and saying your goodbyes. No one seemed to notice anything, except for when you went to Levi to give him a goodbye hug and he whispered in your ear, “Next time get a room or go to the bathroom you freaks.” You totally weren’t embarrassed and didn’t leave the restaurant with warm cheeks.

ZEKE JAEGER: During a zoom meeting

First off, sexy time stuff aside, Zeke is a menace to society and always interrupting your zooms. Whether it’s him barging into the room and asking a question like “Did you eat the last bagel?” While you’re unmuted or walking behind you with his shirt off while you have you camera on. You will never know a peaceful smooth sailing zoom meeting with Zeke in the house.

But you were immune to it at this point and he was a little too immune and comfortable with messing with you while you were in them. But hey, you couldn’t blame him! You looked all too good to him while you laid in the bed on your stomach in one of his band tees and nothing else while you payed attention to the boring lecture happening on your laptop.

Once he realized that your camera was off his hands were on you immediately, rubbing up and down your legs to signify to you that he was in a mood while he made his way on the bed behind you.

“You can’t just be walking around the house all sexy like this and expect me not to pounce on you.”

You want to say something snarky and remarkable back, but a distraction from your boring ass class is exactly what you needed. So instead of protesting this time around, you arched your back so your ass was nearly up to his face to which he replied with playfully slapping you on it and even taking a nibble of your cheek. And because you’re a menace to society you run your own hand along your clothed slit and moving your panties out of the way to put it on display for him.

“I could really use some distracting right now.” Say less, this man’s mouth is on your clit in an instant, devouring you like you’re his first meal of the day. Your hips instinctively grinding down against his tongue as he moved his focus to sucking on your clit at a pace that left you ass up face down on the bed moaning like a pornstar. Never mind his beard scraping against your thighs and possibly leaving a rash there later for you to deal with. It adds a nice touch of pain to your pleasure.

So caught up into the pleasure warming up your lower stomach, you don’t even notice your teacher calling on you until Zeke reaches out and taps on the keyboard to move your attention back to the zoom in front of you, his mouth still working magic on your clit; a mixture of his spit and your juices trailing down his chin. The site is enough to make you cum but you’re forced to divert your eyes away from it as you unmute yourself, quickly asking her to repeat the question, going back on mute before they can hear the slurping noises that Zeke obnoxiously made louder once you unmuted.

“I’m going to kill you.” “Pay attention to school sweetheart before I stop completely. Education comes first!” What an asshole, but despite the joking tone of his voice you know he’d stop in a heartbeat just to mess with you and you’re too close to an orgasm for him to up and quit like that.

From the way your hips move sloppily against his face he can tell that you’re close, but once the teacher repeats the question at you to answer he pulls away completely seemingly to cut you some slack. But, surprise, he only moves his mouth away to replace it with his cock, sliding into you with ease and thrusting into you at a steady pace that has you moan loudly into the microphone on accident.

His face lights up with a smug expression and smile, the embarrassment on your cheeks making him pick up his pace and turning him on in a way. “Now your whole class is going to know that you were getting fucked by me. Too busy getting your hole pounded to even pay attention to the lesion. What a dirty little slut, they’re probably talking about you right now as we speak.”

You’re at a loss of words, not only because of embarrassment but because you can barely form a sentence from the way Zeke is pounding into you so ruthlessly from behind. His hand even coming forward and grabbing at your neck to balance himself against the bed while on his knees.

Your morning with him is far from over and the embarrassment from this zoom is going to last with you forever.

LEVI ACKERMAN:  On an important phone call

I know Levi Ackerman with his hands around our necks really get us going and the thought of dom him fucking us from behind while on the phone with our boss  makes us feel butterflies in our stomachs....BUT the thought of sub Levi whimpering and having to put his phone on mute while discussing business with someone because you have his cock halfway down your throat, is an equally as hot image.

He would glance at you from over his phone and let out a silent “What are you doing?” And make a faint shooing away motion in the air to make you leave, but he doesn’t want you to leave. You know that and he knows that which is why when you went to unbuckle his pants he gladly let you, hips even raising slightly so you can pull them down enough to let his cock and balls free from the restraints of his underwear and pants.

It was such a sudden and rash decision on your end that he wasn’t even hard at all when you pulled him out, but one lick from the base of his cock to the tip of it is enough to make it stand tall. Warranting a deep intake of air that has the person on the other end of the line asking if he was okay. Between the embarrassment from nearly being caught and the pleasure exploding in his lower half from how good you’re working your mouth, his cheeks are flushed with a bright pink color.

“Do you want me to stop” “no, no, keep going, please.”

He’s so needy and close to that sweet release already, the excitement from doing something so naughty while the person on the other end of the phone has no idea has his senses in an overload. Even the broken ‘Y-Yes’s that have to leave his lips every time he unmutes his phone strikes an excited nerve in him that he didn’t know he had; wishing he could moan as freely as he could to show off how good you make him feel, but he bites back those moans with his teeth. Instead opting for a number of praises when he can.

“You look so pretty on your knees in front of me with your cock in my mouth.” “You make me feel so so good, you don’t even know how good I feel right now because of you.” “Keep that up and I’m going to cum.”

Eyes closing shut and breath picking up the closer he gets. His hand even coming down to move your head at a pace that feels godly around his cock.

Usually you would tease and pull away altogether when he did this, reminding him that he couldn’t be too needy, but you would be lying if you said this didn’t have just as much of affect on him as it did on you, thighs clenching together with each bob of your head and moan that left his lips that he couldn’t quite bite back.

He’s an incoherent mess at the end, lips not even able to move together to form sentences and his hips bucking up wildly into your throat to release his load down your throat. His hips still bucking up slightly even after he came because it just felt that good. His mind was so clouded with pleasure that he didn’t even notice the person on the phone had hung up a long time ago, something he would have to deal with later but that proved helpful right now.

“I hope you don’t think that this was it.” Oops, now you awoke the dominant side of Levi’s switch personality and he’s definitely not letting you off the hook for this one.

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Realignment

Prompt: I love when Remus is a lot smarter than he lets on, so I’d love a prompt where Logan is overworking himself and not taking care of himself and one tic of the clock away from either passing out or having a full on mental breakdown (not the type you can recover from in a day). Remus notices the little signs Logan shows, and hears the intrusive thoughts Logan has. Remus really becomes concerned when Logan’s intrusive thoughts start to involve taking breaks, going to eat properly rather than inhaling granola bars, and even sleeping. Remus storms in and is like “Logan tf????” Then gets hella soft once he realizes the state Logan is in

Thank you for the prompts, babe! I liked this one the best so I picked it. 

GUYS PLEASE VIEW THIS AS A C H E C K P O I N T if you've been scrolling for a while (and you probably have) pause here! drink water! get food! walk around the room for a little bit! stretch! do something please! you are very important to me and I care about you very deeply!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: discussions of self-harm, nothing explicit, some self-destructive tendencies and behaviors. 

Pairings: focus on intrulogical, background LAMP, DLAMP, DLAMPR, can be platonic or romantic i don’t care

Word Count: 2410

Realignment: to align again.

Realignment: to reorganize or make new groupings of.

* * *

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

The problem arises when the shit he starts to hear isn't weird at all.

Remus hears a lot of weird shit.

 The more appropriate definition would be ‘fucked up like you wouldn’t fucking believe,’ but one of us has a problem with particularly strong language and shit doesn’t have to be censored in a lot of media anymore. Which is so convenient! For some of us!

 It’s fucking great.

Anyway. Point being. Fucked up shit.

 Intrusive thoughts literally fall under his purview. It’s the fun stuff! The stuff you don’t wanna think about that makes your skin crawl and your eyes pop open at the witching hour and stay awake until the sun rises. That’s Remus’s job.

 And it’s like the whole Mindscape is whack-a-mole that he gets to play with! Buttons here and there, squeeze this part and watch the eyes bug out of this part, bap this one on the head, see which one pokes up next. Who’s gonna have nightmares tonight? Who is having a nightmare tonight?

 It’s fun.

 Point. Right. Right.

 It’s normally pretty easy to tell whose intrusive thoughts are whose. They taste different. Patton’s taste like sugar so sweet it’ll fill your mouth with cavities. Virgil’s taste like spiders, crawling around his mouth. Janus’s taste like salt. So much fucking salt. Dry as hell.

 Roman’s taste like blood. Problem is, Remus’s mouth normally tastes like blood, so…

 Yeah, they gotta work that out.

 Logan’s taste like ink. Which is why it took him so long to figure out that Logan was having them. Not just because the nerdy wolverine was so convinced he couldn’t have them—rationalizing them as philosophy principles, come on—but because Remus isn’t exactly an expert on pens. Writing like normal people. Ugh.

 Normal people.

 What a lie, Janny probably gets a big kick out of those.

 No one is normal and normal is boring.

 Logan. Right.

 Okay, so here’s the thing.

 Logan’s thoughts aren’t really…standard? They are to some extent, you don’t really get a whole lot of variety from him—even when Remus has been so helpful in making his room safe for him to be in during bad days, there’s such a lack of imagination there that he wasn’t sure exactly how to feel—but it’s the recent ones that’ve been getting…weird.

 Remus chews thoughtfully on the kraken tentacle. He swings up to the chandelier and hangs by his ankles, letting the blood run to his head. Makes it easier to think sometimes.

 It hasn’t been very long since they found out…well, since they found out.

 Remus frowns. Why is he censoring himself? It’s not like he can’t fucking say self-harm, it’s not like he can’t describe what it was, it’s not like he can’t close his eyes and see it happening again.

 Then his mind jumps helpfully to the shocked, panicked look on Logan’s face and the soft, furious resignation on Roman’s, and his jaw snaps shut.

 Oh.

 Right.

 He cares. So he has to be gentle with them.

 He growls, swinging himself up to perch on the chandelier proper. He turns the kraken tentacle over and chews on the rubbery side.

 The others are delicate. Not that they’re more breakable than any other metaphysical humanoid, but their minds are fragile when it comes to Remus’s side of things. Could they handle the full spectrum of his side of thoughts and shit? Probably, they’re stronger than they give themselves credit for. Should they have to? Hell to the fuck no. But it means that Remus can’t just throw them in the deep end and see if the kraken spits them out whole or in chunks. Could they survive? Absolutely. Would they still be…them? Doubtful.

 Remus lets one of his legs go, hanging by one knee as he tips over.

 Plus they’re always a little more fragile when it comes to these thoughts anyway. Poking and prodding too much would hurt. Like, the bad kind of hurt.

 They’re not supposed to get hurt. Not like that.

 So. Gentle it is then.

 Right. The others. He has a point, he’s just gotta get there.

 Roman…fuck he’s missed his brother. They got—they got so much shit to still work out but they’re gonna do it together and fuck he loves his brother so goddamn much. Roman knows that, he knows that, and he’s always there to pull Remus out of his head when he needs it, hit him with a pillow, or tackle him onto something and hold him tight. He’s—his thoughts taste like blood and Remus hasn’t bitten anything since so that he’ll never miss it again.

 But with Logan...

 Logan is…odd. It hasn’t been long since they first found out—or rather, they confronted him about it, and Remus hasn’t tasted ink without it disappearing very quickly or knocking on someone’s door to please go get your fucking nerd, please. But the ink has only written the usual suspects, whispering the theorems in dark corners, muttering about the incompleteness of a set, the need for Logic, not Logan, and how to jump through the little loophole again.

 It’s not exactly hard for the others to tell.

 Lolo hasn’t been looking great. Sure, he’s all pressed and dressed, glasses perfectly in place, tie done up just so, walking around like everything’s just totally and completely fine, but it’s in his face. Object impermanence aside, normally when Remus bugs him, he reacts in some way.

 Sass is an emotional response and you won’t convince him otherwise.

 Whether it be a wry comment, effortlessly fixing whatever Remus has done to him this time, or even just a look, Lolo does something.

 Not anymore.

 Now he’ll just kind of…sigh and move on? He’ll fix whatever it is only if it’s directly interfering with what he’s trying to do, or when Patton or Virgil come round the corner and freak the fuck out because you’re bleeding! Then he’ll fix it.

 Remus wouldn’t say he’s bored, but he’s worried.

 Mainly because the intrusive thoughts…aren’t what he’d consider intrusive anymore.

 Take a shower.

 Eat something that isn’t just a granola bar.

 Go to sleep.

 Ask someone for help.

 See?

 If those are Lolo’s intrusive thoughts, then what the fuck is normally going on in his head?

 Remus waits. Waits. Keeps waiting.

 The instant his mouth tastes like ink again, with a question of whether or not Logan should take a break, he sinks straight into his shower. He washes his hair thoroughly, gets every single bit of grime off him he can, and puts on the softest pajamas he has—thank you, Roman—and drops himself outside of Logan’s door.

 He strains, mouth still full of ink, to hear anything other than the soft click, click, click of Logan’s keyboard.

 He can’t.

 Fuck.

 He knocks.

 “One moment, please.”

 Indeed, a few seconds later, the door opens to reveal Logan, looking as annoyingly pristine as he always does, surprised to see him.

 “Remus? Did you need something? Why…” he trails off as he takes in what Remus is wearing. “What’s wrong?”

 “Can I come in?”

 “Of—of course,” Logan stammers, moving aside to let him in, “are you alright?”

 “Should be asking you that, Lolo.”

 “Remus, you’ve just knocked, first of all, on my door and asked to come inside.” Logan adjusts his glasses as he sits at his desk. “This is extremely out of character for you.”

 “Uh-huh.” Remus flops onto the bed. “You know what else is out of character?”

 “Not wearing your costume?”

 “Not hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 Logan’s eyes widen. “Has—is there something wrong? Are you not hearing any? Do I need to get Roman?”

 Remus frowns. “Why’s it so easy for you to do that?”

 “Do what?”

 “Care. Try and take care of me.”

 Logan blinks. “Because you deserve to be taken care of, Remus. Your needs are important.”

 Remus idly toys with a loose thread on one sleeve. “Why?”

 “Why? Why are you important?” Remus nods. “Because you’re—you’re an important part of Thomas, you’re important to us, and we care about you.”

 “So it’s easy for you to care for me because…you do?”

 “As simple as that sounds,” Logan says with all the softness that should be directed at himself, “yes.”

 Remus nods. “I’m not having problems with hearing intrusive thoughts.”

 “You’re—you’re not?” Logan sighs, relaxing a little back into his chair. “Then why did you say you were?”

 “Because the thoughts that I am hearing aren’t really what I’d consider intrusive.”

 Logan frowns. “Like what?”

 Glad you fucking asked.

 “‘Take a shower,’” Remus says, his eyes fixed firmly on Logan’s face, “'eat something,’ ‘take a break,’ ‘go to sleep.’”

 He watches Logan’s face tense.

 “Sound familiar, Lolo?”

 “You—I—my apologies,” Logan manages after a moment, adjusting his tie, “I did not mean to be an inconvenience. You are correct, those are not intrusive thoughts, I’m not sure why you’re hearing them.”

 He turns to his desk and begins to fish around for a notebook.

 “That is quite intriguing, I wonder what the possibilities for hearing other types of thoughts are, considering—“

 “Lolo.”

 Logan pauses, turning back. “Yes?”

 Remus fixes him with a look, getting up and walking toward him. “They are intrusive thoughts, Logan. The issue is that your intrusive thoughts are about you taking care of yourself.”

 Logan freezes.

 “W-well, I’m sure that it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “So either you can admit that was a lie or Janny’s about to get summoned.”

 “Remus,” Logan sighs, “it’s fine. As you said, these aren’t what are traditionally considered intrusive thoughts, it’s nothing to be concerned about.”

 “No, Lolo, it is,” Remus argues, “because it means that the thought of you taking care of yourself is so foreign, so fucking out of the ordinary that not only does it happen to cross your mind—“ he takes Logan’s chair and spins it around— “but you try to force it out.”

 Gotcha.

 Logan looks anywhere other than Remus’s face and tries to stand. Only to wobble and crash back down.

 “Easy,” Remus says quietly, resting a hand on his shoulder, “you haven’t eaten in a while.”

 “But I have work.”

 “But you need food.”

 “Remus—“

 “Logan.”

 At Logan’s honest-to-fuck pout, he sighs, dragging the poor nerd up and out the chair and sitting him on the bed.

 “Why do you think you don’t deserve to be taken care of?”

 “I didn’t say that—hey!” Logan blinks up at him, scandalized and covering his stomach. “Why did you poke me?”

 “’S what I do when Janny won’t tell me the truth.”

 “I wasn’t—okay, okay!” Logan covers his stomach protectively as Remus readies another poke. “I just…I’ve already asked for help for this before. I shouldn’t have to again.”

 Remus sighs and lightly flicks the side of his head.

 “Hey!”

 “Virgil tries that too.” He stares hard at Logan. “Come on, Lolo, you can do better.”

 “It’s not your jobs to take care of me.”

 For fuck’s sake…

 Remus reaches out and tugs gently on Logan’s tie.

 “Remus, what—“

 “You taking more books outta Patton’s library now?” Remus tilts his head. “You don’t have to beat around the bush, Lolo, just be honest.”

 “I am being honest!”

 “You’re not lying, but you’re not being honest.” At the poor nerd’s confusion, he sighs and fixes his glasses on that cute nose. “Just talk to me, Lolo.”

 “I—“ Logan sighs and oh fuck why does he look so tired?

 Well, because he hasn’t been sleeping.

 Or eating.

 Or taking care of himself.

 Unbidden, part of his conversation with Roman flashes into his head.

 “Self-harm can be self-denial too.”

 “Lolo?”

 “It’s bad enough that I’ve made you all worry about me,” Logan says finally, “I would hate to be a burden.”

 Oh, Lolo. “You and Roman, huh?”

 Logan looks up warily. “What do you do with Roman?”

 “You know what I do.”

 Logan sighs. “May at least take my glasses off first?”

 “You might wanna change too, I’m not letting you up for a while.”

 Logan stretches to place his glasses on the nightstand and poofs himself into a t-shirt and boxers. He sighs and opens his arms.

 Remus takes two running steps and tackles the poor nerd onto his bed.

 “Ah!”

 “Am I hurting you?”

 “No, no, just—just a little startled.”

 “Mm.” Remus snuggles closer into Logan, his arms wrapped tightly around him. “So. Wanna try one more time?”

 Logan sighs, deflating them both to the bed. His head lolls to his left, eyes on his open computer screen. Remus follows it, barely suppressing a growl as he stretches his arm out to save whatever’s on screen and shut it.

 “I know what I’m supposed to be doing,” Logan whispers, “I understand the process, I am aware that healing is not a linear concept, I know it’s going to take time, I—I understand.”

 Remus looks down, giving him an encouraging squeeze. “But?”

 “It’s hard,” comes the soft confession.

 Oh, Lolo.

 “I know,” he murmurs, leaning down to hug him properly, “I know, Lolo, I know it’s hard. But you can’t try and do it all yourself, you’ve gotta remember that we’re here for you, we care about you.”

 “But why?”

 Remus smiles and cuddles him tighter. “You said it yourself, Lolo. We care because we do.”

 “O-oh.” He feels Logan’s throat work as he swallows. “Thank you, Remus.”

 “Of course, Lolo. I’m guessing that sinking us to the living room so everyone else can spoil you is a bad idea, right?”

 “Yes.” Finally, finally, he feels Logan shyly tighten his grip on him. “Can we just…stay like this?”

 “Do I have your permission to hold you hostage until you fall asleep?”

 “Yes.”

 “Then go to sleep, Lolo,” Remus murmurs, “I’m not going anywhere.”

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[sugarcubetikki]

Love Languages - Adrien and Marinette

Talking about Adrien and Marinette’s contrasting love languages!

I think Marinette's love language is pretty obvious. Her two major love languages seem to be gifts and acts of service.

Marinette mainly expresses her affections through gifts. She's always making gifts for Adrien. And when it comes to giving those gifts, she's always super afraid and literally acts like giving them would be a declaration of love or something. You can see her getting freaked out over giving Adrien a gift in both The Bubbler and Cat Blanc.

Oh, and she's well prepared too...she has a chest full of gifts FOR HIM.

(Who does that? Normal people with crushes don't. Marinette expresses her feelings in an exaggerated manner).

In the Gamer, she gives him her lucky charm bracelet. This scene is very prominent. Marinette's major love language is through gifts and the fact that she's giving him a gift without stuttering in this scene is just...beautiful. Also, it's not something she planned beforehand. She literally took out her lucky charm bracelet and was like: Here, you can have it. She said it like it was no big deal. I think this scene really explores her feelings for him and it's where you see more of her genuine feelings without all her awkward and exaggerated shenanigans.

The reason why her prominent love language is gifts is pretty obvious to me. It’s quite obvious that she’s not very good with words, and I believe she has even mentioned that in the webisode, she struggles to express herself through words, she can never really say what she truly means. 

Therefore, the best way she can express love is through gifts as she's able to use her love of fashion and creation to express herself in a more comfortable manner.

She also seems to understand the value of gifts much better than others. She's very connected to them even if they seem weird.

In Befana, she says that she doesn't really care what the gift is, she cares more about the person giving it. Despite her grandma and Tikki's weird gift, you can see her put use into both gifts as she made them into a purse and pendant. That shows that she values gifts and she used her skill of design to make something out of even the plainest gifts.

Moreover, she was swooning completely over the Lucky Charm bracelet that Adrien gave her. Well...she does swoon a lot over him. But this is more prominent as she values gifts A LOT, she was all like...he actually brought me a gift that he made by himself. To her, that's very important. Someone reciprocating your own love language is the most dearest thing to a person.

Moving onto Marinette's 2nd love language, this one is acts of service. It' not as prominent but it's still important. Her first love language seemed more vividly expressed and she mainly used it to express her feelings towards Adrien. Mainly Adrien.

However, acts of service, I feel like this expresses more of her general love. She uses it mainly on everyone. It's not mainly specified to Adrien like her first love language.

She's very generous and she's always helping others. You can see this when she's both Ladybug and Marinette. She's always doing favours for other people despite her troublesome double life.

As she's not good with words, she represents general forms of love through her actions. But she doesn't use her prominent love language towards everyone as she does to Adrien. That's the differentiation.

Also, as I stated above, when someone else is reciprocating your own love language, you can understand it more and it makes you feel special.

There's one thing I noticed. The umbrella scene is an act of service! And Marinette is NOT the one expressing it. Adrien is!

No wonder she fell in love with him in that moment...

Adrien was reciprocating her own language, and since she understood it more, that's why it had such a huge impact on her.

She's shown to believe that actions speak louder than words in multiple situations (maybe because she's not too good with words as mentioned).

I feel like she expresses her first love language more and she likes receiving the other one more. BALANCE.

Of course, out of all the love languages, she uses these too the most and since she can understand these two languages, she's quite skilled at them. She understands both of them easily.

Luka seems to express acts of service more. And since Marinette seems to like receiving the love language more and the fact that she also understands it better. It makes sense why she sees Luka's feelings more prominently in comparison to Adrien.  

I did NOT make this meme. The credit goes fully to the original creator.

Anyways, let's move on to Adrien's love languages!

His two most prominent love languages are words of affirmations and touch.

Narrowing down his main love languages were really difficult, since he’s so love-deprived, he’s very accepting of all forms.

It does make sense as it's something he lacked most of his life. His sheltered life means less affection. I can see his mom being affectionate but Gabriel doesn't really strike me as the touchy-feely type (bad parenting things). I think the loss of his mom made him just crave this even more. Word of love, gentle touches and hugs. It's what he understands and expresses more. You crave what you lack more than what you have.

It was really tough for me to actually differentiate between these two but I finally came to a conclusion.

I feel that words of affirmation is the one he expresses more. It's more prominent and there's actually a lot of proof too.

Cat Noir:  It's precisely when something is important, that it's important to say it, no matter what.

Puppeteer 2 shows that he understands the importance of words and it actually makes a lot of sense as it's his prominent language (Ironically, Marinette is awful at words, true opposites).

He does express it more vividly towards Ladybug than anyone else. He compliments and encourages her during battle most of the time. I guess you could say his flirting is a form of his love language too.

(He also does express it towards Marinette a lot, she comes a very close second as he's always complimenting her too. More proof that Adrien DOES have feelings for Marinette, he's just confused).

In Dark Cupid, he was planning to write a poem for her, and that's another sign that he's pretty good at expressing his feelings through words (another contrast to Marinette's struggle in writing a poem).

He's also very flustered when Ladybug is complimenting Cat Noir.

Like in Gorizilla when he blushes during the scene where Ladybug tells him she trusts Cat Noir.

Of course, this is very general, but a reminder, I feel this is more of his expressive language than receptive one.

As for his more receptive language, it’s touch. He also uses it a lot though mainly my confusion to what his prominent language was. Because he's a very touchy person (especially towards Marinette and Ladybug). Not to everyone but he does touch and talk a lot, with people he's close too. He's always putting his hands on their shoulders or something.

The way I could differentiate is that he actually likes receiving gentle touches and hugs more. You should see the way he reacts...

In Simon Says, when Gabriel lunges in for a hug, Adrien is genuinely surprised. I mean the more obvious reasoning is that clearly Gabriel is not a hugger so that's probably he was surprised with his cold father's show of affection. This isn't really the only instance.

He's surprised when Ladybug hugs her in Miracle Queen. His gasp shows it. In Prime Queen, when Ladybug grabs onto his hand. He's also surprised with Marinette's cheek kiss, even though it's normal in France to express gratitude via cheek kisses, he's still was surprised with his mouth agape and everything.

But his surprise isn't a bad thing. He actually seems happy with his touches. We all know his face is beaming more brighter than usual.

Before I end this, I'd like to comment on how their love languages seem to clash.

As they clearly have different love languages, opposite languages, they face difficulty understanding the other's language. This may be why there so oblivious (Ladybug is less oblivious because she does know now but she always faced difficulty understanding Cat Noir's actions in the past and saw his flirting as cocky and irritating).

I don't blame them. Their love languages are very different: Adrien's love language is more direct and simple whereas Marinette's is more indirect and confusing. This even matches their characters  (simple and straight forward vs convoluted!).

They are getting better at understanding each other's contrasting languages. Ladynoir has developed more in that department. Adrienette has a lot of potential for development in S4.

(I wrote this some time ago, before the New York Special, it could lack some context from there, but it looks fine to me...at the moment...)

[maximumjinx]

Steven Universe Gravity Falls AU

~Yknow what they say, if you run out of content, ya gotta make it yourself. This is a ? shot (I might continue or not who knows not me) please don’t ask for more I have 18 unfinished fanfics on this site.~

California was nice, Steven had to admit. The people were nice, the food was fantastic, and the weather was splendid. It reminded him a lot of Beach City. Though there were just so many people, and traveling north, Steven was beginning to long for something small and simple again.

Oregon was the perfect place for that, right?

“Ronaldo wants pictures of Bigfoot, and if anyone can find him, its you Steven.” Petey’s voice was faint on Steven’s phone speaker, tossed into the passenger seat as Steven blindly picked a highway exit.

“Sure Petey, but couldn’t Ronaldo just go to a circus?”

“Not big feet Steven,” Petey emphasized, “Bigfoot.”

“Saying it twice isn’t helping buddy.” Steven was half paying attention. He was focusing on the winding roads and the looming trees surrounding him. Deep, in the pit of Steven’s stomach, he felt something start to tug him toward one direction farther away from the highway. He wasn’t quite sure if it was a good or bad feeling yet.

“Forget it, I’m going to take a blurry photo of that mean Gem in the woods and say its Bigfoot.”

“Just don’t let Jasper catch you, she’s no joke when she’s angry.”

“I saw her ripping grass out of the ground I think I’ll be fine. Later dude.”

Steven heard a small click and smiled to himself. He’s happy to see how far the people of Beach City have come and how they’ve taken to the gems. He remembers when the Crystal Gems were once the outcasts of town that locals warned you to stay away from.

He looked up to see a welcome sign.

“Gravity falls. Well, that’s a funny name.”

—

Steven wanted small and simple but he feels he may have overshot it.

This small town had exactly three attractions. A town museum that mentioned marrying woodpeckers (Steven couldn’t figure out if that was a normal human thing, like taxes and velcro), a small diner, and as one local described it ‘some tourist trap’ deep in the woods. It was a sticky summer day and the former two attractions didn’t have airconditioning. Steven gambled on the last stop in hopes of stretching his legs and maybe finding a source to the strange feeling in his gut. It had become much stronger since he entered this small town. Alluring, but nothing related to Gems as far as Steven could tell.

He parked in the nearly empty lot and stepped out. Jacket wrapped loosely around his hips, Steven made his way inside.

A girl that looked about 13 was petting a pig on the front porch. She was incredibly reflective, and depsite the heat wore a knitted bedazzled sweater that made her glow like a disco ball in the sun.

She looked Steven up and down as he approached, a wide smile taking up her face and Steven saw bright braces with colored bands.

“Hi!” She launched upwards, startling the pig away, “I’m Mabel, but you can call me anytime.” The girl winked and stuck out her hand, palm facing the floor.

Steven blinked.

“Mabel, stop scaring away the customers!” A gruff voice yelled through the screen door, and soon an older man stepped out in a suit, wearing a fez and eyepatch.

Immediately the old man squinted at Steven, sizing him up.

Stanley Pines knew this teen wasn’t local, but he wasn’t sure if he had any money. For all he knew he was another boy trying to hit on his giftshop cashier, Wendy.

Oh well, a customer is a customer.

“Come in, come in, and see our mystical and magical wonders!”

“Magical?” This could be it, Steven could figure out why this town has felt off. Maybe it was gem related after all.

Quickly this older man who had introduced himself as Mr. Mystery gave Steven a tour of what looked like failed taxidermy projects. Now Steven may have a lived a sheltered childhood, but he felt pretty confident there was no such thing as a Sashcrotch. And so far, nothing had felt magical or mysterious.

“That concludes our tour! Here is our mistifying giftshop and it’s purchasable wonders!”

“Right...” Well, at the very least he was able to spend some time in airconditioning.

There was a girl behind the desk in plaid that looked about Steven’s age, and just a half inch shorter than him. She looked bored, flipping through a magazine as a young boy that looked a lot like Mabel made googly eyes as he swept by the door.

Steven guessed there was no harm in asking around.

“Hi, I’m Steven.” He smiled easily, walking up to the register.

“No refunds, even if an exhibit bit you.” She sighed, peeking up before turning back to her magazine.

“Oh no, nothing bit me, I just wanted to know something.”

She looked up to get a better look at Steven and gave a small smirk.

“Sure, but only because I like your shirt. Mr. Universe merch, now that’s a deep cut.”

Unbeknownst to Steven, Dipper Pines would had been watching the exchange felt a twinge of uneasiness as this out of towner talked with Wendy.

“Have you ever seen anything strange or weird actually happen in this town?”

Wendy’s smile dropped.

“Why do you ask?” Her eyes flickered to Dipper, just for a moment, and that was all he needed to rush over.

“Excuse me sir, please buy something or exit the store.” Dipper spoke in the deepest voice he could muster.

Steven looked over with a questioning expression.

“Oh sure uh-“ He blindly reached for the wad of bills that his dad had given to him before he left. Steven pulled out a hundred dollar bill and put it on the counter. Wendy looked up baffled as Steven stuffed the other cash back in his wallet.

“Boy was I wrong about you kid!” Mr. Mystery, seemingly materializing out of nowhere, now bounded over. He had loosened his tie and lost the eyepatch which turned out he never needed.

“Whaddya wanna know? I’ll tell you everything. There’s gnomes in the woods you know-“

“Grunkle Stan!” Dipper protested loudly, dragging his Stan away and harshly whispering at him.

“Did you steal that money?” Wendy asked as Steven watched the pair whisper fight in the corner. He turned back to the girl and gave a sheepish smile.

“Uh no, my dad gave it to me before this roadtrip. He’s actually Mr. Universe.”

Wendy lit up.

“No freaking way! Your dad is Mr. Universe? I only got into him since he managed Sadie Killer and the Suspects and they always perform covers of his songs on tour, I can’t believe he’s your dad!” She rambled, stars in her eyes. Steven beamed, he loved when people praised his dad’s music. Greg really deserved it.

Steven learned Wendy’s name and they swapped stories back and forth, only interrupted as the girl from outside slowly rose from the behind the counter beaming.

“A cute musician that loves weird stuff, take me now.” She swooned. Steven blushed profusely, not used to the attention.

“Sorry, my girlfriend Connie probably wouldn’t like that very much.” He said gently. Mabel looked him up and down and pouted.

“I can wait, but not forever.” She warned, and winked, bounding to break apart her grunkle and Dipper, who are now whisper screaming with arms flailing.

“I wasn’t going to mention that Dorito shaped jerk! Just the normal stuff!”

“It’s dangerous! He could be a spy, or government, or another stack of gnomes!”

Steven raised an eyebrow and looked at Wendy. She chuckled and shrugged. Steven carefully approached them.

“He can hear everything you’re saying anyways so might as well tell him!” Mabel interrupted, nodding towards Steven as he came up.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely not government.” Steven technically didn’t exist at all. He never had a social security card and didn’t have a birth certificate.

Dipper only glared. Rich strangers with an interest in the paranormal didn’t come through gravity falls without some kind of agenda.

Steven hated the conflict he was starting. No information was worth this family fighting.

“Okay,” he surrendered, hands up, “I’ll just go. I’ll stick around town until tomorrow if you change your minds”

“Wait Steven-”

“Let him go Wendy,” Dipper glared as the boy in pink walked out, “We can’t trust him.”

“But I was going to ask for Sadie tickets...” Wendy groaned, defeated.

“There’s something weird about him.”

“Great!” Mabel beamed, “He’ll fit right in.”

~.~

Steven wasn’t crazy about sleeping in his car, but was seriously considering it after seeing the state of his motel room. It looked like it hadn’t been used in decades, a thin line of dust covering every surface. He was also pretty sure they didn’t even have free ice. 

“Wish Pearl were here..” He mumbled, exhausted. He curled up on top of the covers, fully clothed, and let sleep take him.

Being Steven Universe however, meant rest was sure to allude the half alien. 

Steven found himself in a dark space, fog all around him. Before a word could come out of his mouth he heard a fast, repetitive muttering. 

“Stranger...Wendy looked pretty today..Can’t trust...Tell no one...Ford isn’t here..”

“What, the-” Steven quietly walked toward the source of dialogue, and saw the faded silhouette of the boy from the Mystery Shack. His back was turned to him, but Steven recognized the blue vest and mosquito bitten legs. 

“I thought I was over the dream hopping.” Steven spoke a tad too loudly, starting the young boy - Dipper.

“What-” Dipper’s eyes grew wide in panic, and the boy fell back harshly.

“No, no, you can’t be in my head!” 

“Wait, I’m not-” Steven tried to reassure him, stepping carefully towards the boy but Dipper let out a screech of terror, sweat gathering around his temples.

“Bill sent you didn’t he?! He’s not really gone- he’s going to hurt Mable again-” Dipper began to hyperventilate. 

“Dipper please,” Steven took a step back, arms in the air in surrender. 

“I-”

“I’m not going to hurt you I swear on the gems.” He placed a hand over his heart. “This is a total invasion of privacy but it’s something that happens when someone’s emotions are out of control-”

“How are you here?” Dipper demanded, scrambling to his feet. “Tell me what you are and what you want.”

“I’m just passing through!” Steven insisted, then lowered his tone to calm the younger boy. “I’m kinda of magnet for weird stuff. I just wanted to help in case anything was going on.”

“We deal with things just fine around here.” Dipper spat, then watched as Steven deflated. He seemed tired, like he hasn't slept well in a while. 

“So what are you anyways? How can you be here?”

Steven winced, and laughed nervously. “It’s kind of a long story..”

Dipper raised and eyebrow and swept his arm around the void dramatically. 

“You have until dawn.”

~

“I thought that was a conspiracy theory, it wasn’t even covered by major news outlets.” Dipper look exhausted, cross legged on the unseen floor as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I think Garnet is pretty persuasive when it comes to government and reporters. They all kinda fall in love with her.”

“She’s the one that’s really two aliens?” 

Steven shook his head with a small smile. “It’s hard to explain but yes, I guess that comes close.”

“That’s actually insane. I’m insane, aren’t I?” Dipper stood up, leaving Steven on sitting next to an empty space. “It’s been too quiet around here and now I’m so desperate for weird, that I’m making it all up in my head.”

“I get that feeling.” Steven smiled without humor, “but no, this is real. I’ll prove it when you wake up.” Steven felt a shift, the fog in the void getting denser. 

“Sooner than I thought, you’re an early riser huh?”

Dipper looked back at Steven, panicked. “You’ll come to the Shack again right? In just a bit?”

Steven smiled. “Promise.”

~

Dipper woke up to his sister braiding his hair. Mabel still had her pjs on, and a make up kit next to the bed. Dipper frowned, tasting strawberry shortcake. 

“Stop testing party looks on me, Mabel.”

“Stop having my face structure and maybe I will.” She grinned, covered in blue glitter. 

Dipper quickly washed up and got dressed for the day, feeling like he was anxiously waiting for something but not quite remembering what. 

He felt like he had a strange dream last night...

He quickly remembered, choking on cereal as Steven walked into the shack right as it opened. Hair slightly frizzy from the heat and eyes strangely tired. Maybe dream hopping took energy that he anticipated. 

“Steven!”

“Meal ticket!” 

“Grunkle Stan.” Mabel chastised as Dipper rushed over to the older boy. 

“Good morning everyone.” 

Dipper stopped short, slightly hoping that everything he experienced wasn’t just his imagination. That everything exciting and weird and interesting wasn’t always trying to kill him, ruin his life, or steal his candy. 

Steven looked tired, like he had been doing this much longer than Dipper, but he had still come out with enough energy to smile. 

“Not insane?” Dipper asked hopefully, quietly. Steven snapped his attention from his Grunkle and Mable bickering down to the Dipper. He gave a reassuring smile, eyes quite serious. 

“Not insane.”

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 129

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,050ish

Summary: The separate teams prepare for the battle against Thanos. (gifs aren’t mine)

Y/N was standing in front, staring at space as it whizzed by, when Tony came over and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He pressed a kiss just behind her ear, pulling her closer.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony whispered.

“How I’m suppose to be prepared for something, but I have no idea what,” Y/N whispered.

“The fate of the universe is not on you.”

“But it is, Tony… and there’s—“

“No.” He quickly, yet carefully, turned Y/N around to face him. “This is not on you.” His hands held Y/N’s face to look at him. “Whatever happens is not your fault.”

“You can’t say that. We don’t know what will happen yet.”

“You’re right, we don’t. But I will not let you feel the way you are feeling. And I promise, that I will not let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not worried about me… I’m worried about everyone else… it’s too much… it’s all too much…” 

Her eyes were tearing up, and this was all breaking Tony’s heart. He pulled her into his chest, cradling her head. It was killing him to see her like this, but he really didn’t know how to fix it. Tony didn’t understand exactly what Y/N needed to do, and he was coming to the conclusion that she didn’t either.

The two could feel the engines begin to slow. With Tony keeping an arm around Y/N, the two looked through the large window. The ship was approaching a planet. Peter and Dr. Strange joined the couple by the window.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Peter asked.

“I think we’re here,” Strange replied.

“I don’t think this rig has a self-park function,” Tony said, looking around. He left Y/N’s side, waving Peter over to where he was going. “Get your hand into this steering gimbal. Close those around it. You understand?”

“Yep, got it,” Peter responded, quickly following Tony’s directions as Tony put one of his arms in it as well.

“This was meant for one big guy, so we gotta to move at the same time.”

“Okay. Okay. Ready.” Out the window, Y/N could see that the ship was heading straight for the center of some wreckage. “We might wanna turn. Turn! Turn! Turn!!”

Tony tapped his reactor, armoring up. “Y/N! Get over here!”

Before Y/N could reach Tony’s side, the ship clipped a piece of rumble on the planet, throwing Y/N to the side. Peter has his helmet come up as Dr. Strange stepped between them, creating a shield for the rough landing. As the ship, shook and plowed through the dirt, Y/N portaled herself over to Tony. She wrapped her arms around him to keep steady, only for them both to be thrown to the ground. Parts of the ship flew off before it finally came to a stop. Tony’s helmet disappeared as he searched Y/N for any injuries. He quickly noticed that her breathing was fast and her eyes were clenched shut.

“Honey, honey,” Tony called. “You’re okay. Hey, look at me. Look at me.” She shakily looked up at Tony from her position curled up into his side. “We are safe. You are okay. You’re not hurt. Right?”

“I… I’m… o-okay…” Y/N stuttered softly.

“You haven’t had something like that in awhile.” Tony sighed before kissing her head. “I’ll get us out of here. I promise.” Dr. Strange came over and helped them up. “You alright?” Tony asked Strange, who nodded. “That was close. I owe you one.”

“Let me just say,” Peter started, descending from above like a spider, “if aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something, and I eat one of you, I'm sorry.”

Tony pointed at Peter. “I don't wanna hear another single pop culture out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?”

“I'm trying to say that... something is coming.”

Suddenly, a grenade rolled into view and the foursome was thrown back as it fired an energy pulse. Three beings appeared in the doorway.

“THANOS!” A blue man yelled. 

He flung a blade at Dr. Strange, who deflected it with a mystical shield and in return his cloak smothered the man’s face, throwing him to the floor. Y/N and Tony were quickly on their feet. One of the men went straight for Tony. They have a brief dogfight until a magnetic disc pinned Tony face first to a structure. An alien woman came up from behind Y/N, putting her hands on her head, entering her mind.

“Sleep,” the alien woman commanded. Y/N dropped to the floor, unconscious. 

“Y/N!” Tony shouted.

The alien walked towards Peter, who was crawling back frantically. “AH!” Peter exclaimed. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Please don’t put your eggs in me!”

Peter shot a web at Mantis in a panic, pinning her arms to her body just before the man that attacked Tony flew at him feet-first, kicking him away.

“Stay down, clown!” The man ordered.

The man fired at Spider-man, who extended his spider legs and leapt away. Peter couldn’t get far before an electric-like cord wrapped around him and his six new legs. It set him rolling across the deck.

“Die, blanket of death!” The blue man cried, struggling with he cloak.

Tony pulled free of the magnet and stepped on the blue man’s torso. The cloak pulled free as soon as Tony had the man securely under his foot. The other man had Spider-Man in a head-lock, gun pointed at his head. Dr. Strange had a musical shield up and stood ready to attack. The alien woman struggled to her feet, still covered with webbing.

“Ugh…” Y/N groaned, slowing sitting up while holding her head. 

“Y/N,” Tony called. “Are you—“

“Alright, everybody stay where you are!” The man holding Spider-Man in a headlock ordered. “Chill the F out.” The man powered off his helmet. “I’m gonna ask you this one time. Where’s Gamora?”

Tony hid his helmet as well. “Yeah, I'll do you one better,” Tony responded. “Who’s Gamora?”

“I’ll do you one better. Why is Gamora?” The man beneath Tony’s foot fired back.

“Tell me where the girl is, or I swear to you, I'm gonna French-fry this little freak,” the man holding Spider-Man threatened.

“Let's do it!” Tony responded, extending a nano-tech canon at the blue man. “You shoot my guy, I blast him. Let's go!”

“Do it, Quill! I can take it!” The blue man exclaimed.

“No, he can’t take it!” The alien woman replied.

“She’s right,” Dr. Strange said. “You can’t.”

"Oh yeah? You don't wanna tell me where she is?” Quill continued. “That's fine. I'll kill all four of you and beat it out of Thanos myself.” He looked at Spider-Man. “Starting with you.”

“Stop!” Y/N yelled, freezing everyone in place. She stood up. “No one is killing anyone!”

“Why can’t I—“

“She’s controlling us,” the alien woman stated. “She’s extremely powerful.”

“Wait, what? Thanos?” Dr. Strange questioned, realizing what Quill had said. “Alright, let me ask you this one time: What master do you serve?”

“What master do I serve?” Quill repeated. “What am I supposed to say? “Jesus”?"

“You’re from Earth?” Tony asked.

“I'm not from Earth. I'm from Missouri.”

“Yeah, that's on Earth, dip-shit. What are you hasseling us for?”

“So, you’re not with Thanos?” Spider-Man questioned.

“With Thanos?!” Quill repeated. “No, I'm here to kill Thanos! He took my girl- Wai- who are you?”

Spider-Man’s helmet disappeared. “We’re the Avengers, man.”

“Oh.”

“You’re the ones Thor told us about!” The alien woman stated.

“Thor,” Y/N breathed out, still keeping everyone in place. 

“You know Thor?” Tony asked.

“Yeah,” Quill responded. “Tall guy, not that good-looking, needed saving.”

“Where is he now?” Dr. Strange asked.

“With our other friends, going to make a weapon,” the woman responded.

“Y/N, you can let us go know,” Tony said. 

With a deep breath, Y/N let everyone be free. They all moved to standing positions, Tony beside Y/N.

“So you’re Y/N?” The woman walked up to her. “Thor mentioned you.”

“Really?” Y/N questioned.

“He said you were powerful,” Quill stated. “But he also said you were on Earth.”

“Yeah, guess not all Thor says is true.”

“Star-Lord, by the way,” Quill introduced himself.

“Right,” Tony nodded. “I’m Iron Man. This is Dr. Strange and Spider-Man.” He pointed to the others he introduced.

“I’m Drax,” the blue man said.

“And I’m Mantis,” the alien woman added.

“Okay, now that introductions are out of the way,” Tony started, “let’s go see what’s out there.”

Grabbing Y/N’s hand, Tony led her, and the others, towards an opening in the ship. The planet outside had clearly been through something war-like, and there was no sign of life anywhere. Star-Lord went down on one knee, getting out some sort of device.

“The heck happened to this planet?” He wondered. “It’s eight degrees off its axis.” He stood up. “Gravitational pull is all over the place.”

“Yeah, we can see that,” Y/N commented, looking at Mantis who was jumping joyfully high up in the air behind Star-Lord.

“Yeah, we got one advantage. He’s coming to us,” Tony stated. “We'll use it. All right, I have a plan. Or at least the beginnings of one. It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don't wanna dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet.” Drax then choose this time to yawn. “Are you yawning? In the middle of this, while I'm breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?”

“I stopped listening after you said, "We need a plan.”” Drax replied.

“Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page.”

“See, "not winging it" isn't really what they do,” Star-Lord responded.

“Uh, what exactly is it that they do?” Spider-Man asked.

“Kick names, take ass,” Mantis answered, meekly.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Drax agreed.

Tony paused, looking deeply hopeless. Quietly, Y/N’s breathing hitched as her head started buzzing. Thankfully, Tony didn’t notice to worry about it.

“Alright, just get over here, please,” Tony continued. “Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?”

“‘Mr. Lord’,” Star-Lord repeated with a chuckle. “Star-Lord is fine.” He motioned Drax and Mantis to come closer.

“We gotta coalesce. 'Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude—“

“Dude, don't call us plucky. We don't know what it means. Alright, we're optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan, and that way it might be really good.”

“Tell him about the dance-off to save the universe,” Drax urged.

“A dance-off?” Y/N repeated, trying to ignore the buzzing.

“It’s not a… it’s not… it’s nothing,” Star-Lord stuttered.

“Like in Footloose, the movie?” Spider-Man wondered.

“Exactly like Footloose! Is it still the greatest movie in history?”

“It never was.”

“Don’t encourage this, alright?” Tony told Peter.

“Okay.”

“We’re getting no help from Flash Gordon here.”

“Flash Gordon?” Star-Lord repeated. “By the way, that's a compliment. Don't forget, I'm half human.” He pointed at Y/N, Tony, and Parker. “So that 50% of me that's stupid? That's 100% you.”

“Your math is blowing my mind.”

“Excuse me,” Mantis nervously interrupted. “But… does your friend often do that?”

Everyone looked in the direction Mantis was pointing. Floating slightly above the ground, was Dr. Strange clearly using the Time Stone. Strange was cross-legged with green energy forming circular patterns around his forearms. His eyes were closed and his head jerked rapidly from side to side, blurring. The others went to his side. 

As Y/N grew closer, a green strand of energy slowing touched her head. She froze and her eyes shone green. Everyone was too busy with Strange to notice though. Her vision quickly changed. It was dark at first, but slowly each of the Stones shined on a gauntlet. The fingers snapped and her field of vision was suddenly filled with people screaming and disappearing into ash. She looked around for anyone she knew, no one was recognizable. 

Quickly, the setting changed. She was standing on a war-torn battle, that was vaguely familiar. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people and aliens were battling each other. She recognized many of those people as her family, her friends. They were dirty, bloody, and clearly fighting for their lives. Y/N looked around to see Thanos fighting herself.

“In five years time, the final battle will commence,” the Stones gravely voice filled her ears. “This is where you will be needed… If you try to stop what happens here today, we will stop you.”

Outside Y/N’s mind, Tony had made his was to Strange.

“Strange, we alright?” Tony wondered. Strange snapped out of his trance and fell forward, letting out a cry. “You’re back. You’re alright.” Tony steadied him.

“Hey, what was that?” Peter asked.

“I went forward in time to view alternate futures,” Strange Panted. “To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.”

“How many did you see?” Star-Lord wonders.

“14,000,605.”

“How many did we win?” Tony asked.

Strange stared intently at Tony for a moment, almost sad like. Before looking past him at Y/N. “One.”

Everyone turned to look where Strange was looking. Y/N was still standing, with green eyes and green energy encircling her head. Tony rushed over, grasping Y/N by the arms.

“Y/N!” Tony called, trying gently to shake her out of whatever was happening. “Come on, honey. Push through!”

~~~

The quinjet ride to Wakanda was full of silent tension, silent worry. No one knew what exactly was coming, or how to stop it.

“Drop 2600, heading 0-3-0,” Steve instructed, walking up behind Sam who was piloting.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap,” Sam said. “Or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

From the looks of it, they were heading straight for the trees. But as the quinjet continued on, the tree were revealed to be a camouflage force field and the grand city of Wakanda appeared. Once they landed, Steve and Natasha exited first, with Rhodey, Bruce, Wanda, Vision, and Sam behind them.

“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve stated as he reached out to shake T’Challa’s.

T’Challa shook Steve’s hand before looking at Bruce. “Uh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa said, waving for Bruce to stop. “So how big of an assault can we expect?” T’Challa turned around and the team began following after him.

“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault,” Bruce answered, trying to push his way closer to the front.

“How we looking?” Nat asked.

“You will have my King’s Guard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and…” T’Challa trialed off, as Bucky walked up to the others.

“A semi-stable, 100-year-old man,” Bucky joked. With smiles on their faces, Steve and Bucky shared a hug.

“How you been, Buck?” Steve asked.

“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world,” he replied with a smile. “Have you… uh, have you heard from Y/N?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Steve shook his head and sighed. “But I have heard she’s been sneaking around with you and Stark. You’re going to have to tell me all about it as soon as this is through.”

Bucky let out a light laugh. “As long as you buy the beer.”

~~~

Leaving Rhodey, Bucky, and Sam to watch from outside, the rest went and met Shuri in her lab. Vision laid down on an exam table while Shuri used her technology to create a hologram projection of the Mind Stone above him. Bruce was on the other side of the table, watching her very movement. 

“Whoa. The structure is polymorphic,” Shuri stated.

“Right, we had to attach each neuron non-sequentially,” Bruce told her.

“Why didn’t you just reprogram the synapses to work collectively?” Shuri asked. Vision turned to Bruce, seemingly asking the same thing with his eyes.

“Because, we didn’t think of it,” Bruce answered with uncertainty. 

“I’m sure you did your best,” Shuri reassured with a smile. 

“Can you do it?” Wanda asked.

“Yes, but there are more than two trillion neurons here. One misalignment could cause a cascade of circuit failures.” Shuri turned to T’Challa. “It will take time, brother.”

“How long?” Steve asked, stepping closer to them.

“As long as you can give me.” 

A chime went off and Okoye quickly projected a hologram globe into her palm. “Something’s entered the atmosphere,” Okoye informed.

“Hey, Cap, we got a situation here,” Sam warned over the comms. 

Almost as soon as his words ended, a forcefield formed over the city. Bucky and Sam watched as alien vessels landed outside the barrier. One of them tried to go through, getting destroyed.

“Gosh, I love this place,” Bucky said.

“Yeah, don’t start celebrating yet, guys,” Rhodey warned. “We got incoming outside the dome.”

The landing vessels emitted shock waves and debris, destroying the forest. The Captain and the King looked at each other, both deeply concerned. Vision struggled to sit up and slide off the exam table, holding onto his side.

“It’s too late,” he said. “We need to destroy the stone now.”

“Vision, get your ass back on the table,” Nat demanded.

“We will hold them off,” T’Challa stated as he and his guards started for the door. 

Steve turned to Wanda. “Wanda, as soon as the stone’s out of his head… you blow it to hell,” He instructed.

“I will,” Wanda replied.

“Evacuate the city. Engage all defense procedures,” T’Challa commanded. He stopped before fully exiting the room, turned, and pointed to Steve. “And get this man a shield.”

Steve looked out the window, watching the ships crash land outside the barrier. He couldn’t help but wonder what all this had to do with his sister exactly. But there was a bigger question than that in his mind, a more important question.

“Where the hell are you, Y/N?” He whispered to himself.

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑆𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐵𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑠 𝐼𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑃𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑛𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, supporting, justifying or encouraging mafia activities or lifestyle. This is all fictional and not meant to represent real life scenarios.

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

You were currently locked inside a secret room in your mansion. Hongjoong specifically had it made for situations like this. Even though the possibilities of someone finding you were slim to none, you were still frightened. You just wanted Hongjoong to get there as fast as he could and comfort you.

As if on cue, the door opened and Hongjoong appeared. You immediately got up and held onto him as if your life depended on it, the tears you've been holding in now finally pouring out.

"Shhh calm down honey, it's ok. I'm here now, don't cry." Hongjoong ran his fingers through your hair in an effort to comfort you, get you to calm down.

"I was so scared. I kept thinking they'd find me and maybe harm me or our.."

You couldn't finish the last part, but Hongjoong knew what you meant when you placed a hand protectively around your baby bump. He smiled at you softly and put one of his hands on top of yours.

"I promised that I'd take care of you both and I'm not breaking that promise. Don't be scared anymore, I won't let anyone hurt either one of you."

°• ✾ •°𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪°• ✾ •°

Seonghwa was currently trying to discuss a possible merge with another gang. Things seemed to be going pretty well, both sides satisfied with what the other had to offer. They were finishing up details on the contract when one of Seonghwa's men burst in, interrupting the meeting.

"Sir! Your wife just called! Some enemy broke into your house!" The man exclaimed, trying hard to catch his breath.

Seonghwa completely forgot about the meeting. Not wanting to waste another second, he ordered his car to be ready as he ran out of the room, some protests and groaning heard from the other people in the room.

But Seonghwa didn't care. You and the child you were carrying were his top priority. That's how he went well above the speed limit so he could reach the house in time to save you. Once making sure you were both all right, he started packing a few things.

"I'm taking you to stay somewhere else. I'm not risking anything again."

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

At first, Yunho wasn't going to take the call, but when they told him it was you, he immediately took it, knowing you wouldn't interrupt a meeting if it wasn't an emergency.

"Baby? What's wrong? Is everything ok? Oh my god! Please don't tell me the baby is already on the way!" He kept rambling on.

"No, not that. However ..... we have a little problem..." You stated.

"What kind of problem?" Yunho asked.

"Well, I heard glass shattering in the living room, so I went to look-"

"You went to look?! What if it was someone breaking in?!" Yunho scolded you.

"Well you hit the nail on the head, it was someone breaking in." You sighed.

"What?! I'm on my way! Stay calm! I'll bring back up just in case." Yunho was already grabbing his car keys.

"Can you also bring one of the medical staff?" You asked kinda sheepishly.

"Why?! Are you hurt?! Is our baby hurt?!" Yunho felt like he was getting a heart attack.

"No....but the guy who broke in is. You see, I was in the kitchen, so before I went to check, I was holding a frying pan.... and I may or may not have hit him really hard on the head with it and....well he ain't moving." You confessed rather awkwardly.

Yunho stood silent on the other line, trying to process all of this. He didn't know whether to laugh or get mad or just continue freaking out.

"Well I guess it's good to know you can still defend yourself. I'm on my way."

He shook his head as he hung up.

"That girl is gonna be the death of me."

°• ✾ •°𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

Yeosang kept fidgeting his finger on the armrest of his chair. He couldn't concentrate anymore on what was being said at the meeting. His mind was thinking about you, worrying about you and your baby's safety. He knew he could trust the men he sent to go help you out, but he was still worried about you. Perhaps he should have gone himself, he kept thinking that.

One of his men quietly came up to him and whispered.

"Your wife is safe. We found the intruder and we have locked him up. You have nothing else to worry about."

Yeosang released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He thanked the man before excusing himself from the meeting. He neglected you for too long. Upon seeing you, he ran to you and hugged you tightly.

"Thank God you're both all right!"

You could tell he was becoming emotional so you smiled to ease his worry.

"Yes, we're fine. Nothing happened." You assured him.

He took your hands in his and looked down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there myself..."

You leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"I trust you Yeosang, you know that. I know that even if it's not you personally, you'll still protect us no matter what. That's why I'm never scared." You confessed.

Yeosang felt immensely happy when you said that. He kissed your forehead and held your growing belly.

"Thank you for never doubting me or my love for you both."

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷°• ✾ •°

San burst into the house, not caring that he literally busted his own front door down. He signaled for his men to quietly search around, not wanting you to be more frightened than what you probably already were. He searched in your bedroom.

"Y/N?" He called out to you.

Slowly, you peeked out from underneath the bed.

"San?" You asked.

"Y/N! What the-"

He walked over and pulled you out.

"Out of all the places, you choose to hide underneath the bed? You could hurt yourself or our baby!" He began fussing around as he gently rubbed your barely visible bump.

"Oh relax. I'm not that far along yet, and leave me alone! I panicked and that's the nearest place I could think of." You pouted and crossed your arms.

San chuckled at how cute you were and cupped your cheeks.

"You're so adorable." He pecked your lips.

One of his men interrupted you two.

"Sir, perimeter is clear, no sign of any intruder anymore."

San's smile disappeared and was replaced by a scowl.

"Fine. Search for any clues that could give out their identity. Report back to me when you find something." He ordered.

"Right away sir."

San turned back to you, who was standing with a smirk.

"What?" He asked.

"Your duality seriously is no joke." You teased him.

San giggled and pulled you into a hug, kissing your cheek repeatedly.

"I'm just really soft for you and our little jelly bean."

°• ✾ •°𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲°• ✾ •°

"Mingi! I think someone broke into the house!"

Your voice echoed through the entire room, as Mingi had put you on speaker.

"What?! What do you mean?!" He asked.

"There's a mess all over the living room and kitchen! The couch is ripped up and several furniture is turnt over!" You were shouting now.

"Oh my god! I just heard some shuffling..." Your voice suddenly went quiet.

"Baby....just stay down and we'll be there." Him and the other members were already getting their guns ready.

"I see something moving in the corner! It's still here! It's it's-"

"Just lock yourself in the safe room!" Mingi interrupted.

"It's a dog?" You suddenly said.

"What?" They all asked in unison.

"Yeah. It's a dog." You repeated.

"What kind of dog?! Does it have a collar?!" Yunho asked happily.

"I think it's a golden retriever, let me get closer."

"No! Don't get close to it! It could have rabies!" Mingi warned you.

Suddenly the sound of something falling was heard.

"Y/N! What happened?! Do I need to call animal control and put the dog down?!" Mingi asked frantically.

"No! Don't put it down!" Wooyoung begged.

Your giggles were heard, making everyone confused.

"It's licking my face! And he's so cute! Can we keep him?!" You squealed.

"If you say yes, can we help name it?!" San asked.

Mingi pinched the bridge of his forehead, trying to calm down.

"Well this was certainly a very entertaining meeting." Seonghwa laughed.

°• ✾ •°𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰°• ✾ •°

"So uh... don't freak out Wooyoung..." You started off.

"Oh no. Every time you tell me not to freak out, it's cause it's something worth freaking out about. So what is it?" He asked.

You sighed. "Ok. So while I was sleeping, someone broke into the house."

"What?! How?! Do you know who it was?!" He began asking, already gathering some people to go with him.

"No, I was sleeping." You calmly said.

"How could you have been sleeping?!" He exclaimed.

"Hey! Being pregnant makes me tired and when I'm asleep, I'm practically dead!" You defended yourself.

"Ok fine! But are you sure you didn't hear anything?" He asked.

You face palmed on the other end.

"Wooyoung... I told you! I was asleep! I didn't see or hear anything! I only know that someone broke in because the front door knob is broken." You responded.

"Ok that's it. I'm installing better security and hiring someone to watch you while you're sleeping since clearly, anyone can just come in then hurt you and you won't even notice till you're dead." He said, his voice raising 2 octaves.

"No! I won't be able to sleep if I know someone is watching me." You cringed.

"Fine. I'll watch over you and our baby then." He said decidedly.

"That's even worse!" You shouted.

"It's called making sure you're alive! Goddamit woman, stop being so difficult." He screamed back.

°• ✾ •°𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸°• ✾ •°

Jongho looked back and forth at you and the man currently tied up to a chair in front of you both.

"Run that by me again?" He asked, unable to believe your story.

"It's simple. I heard someone looking through some documents in the office, so I went to go check-"

"That was already a pretty stupid decision." Jongho cut you off.

You glared at him.

"I took a weapon with me!" You exclaimed.

"Yeah! The expensive vase that my mom gave to us on our anniversary!" Jongho gestured to the broken pieces of porcelain scattered around the floor.

"Well it was the closest thing I had in hand! Besides it worked! Knocked him out long enough for me to tie him up and wait for you to get here." You were actually proud of yourself for being able to handle the situation like you did. Jongho always said you were tiny and couldn't protect yourself, that's why you needed him.

Jongho sighed and looked back at the guy next to them.

"I mean.....I'd asked you to confirm her story, but I think you tied up basically sums it up."

The guy only nodded.

"Are you going to torture me now?" The man asked.

"Listen my man, you got knocked out by a tiny and pregnant woman, you a grown man. I think you've suffered enough humiliation for one day." Jongho snorted, but he was also proud of you for protecting yourself and your child.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[satanwithboobs]

self-care | GN!MC x OM brothers

tw: mentions of reckless behavior, the brothers are demons so they essentially roofie MC but.. for their own good...? it’s not okay and I’m pretty sure Beel is the only one who feels like they did something wrong.

a/n: okay so this is really long (nearly 2,400 words), and it just sort of happened. mainly inspired by my history of reckless behavior when it comes to my health and my resolve not to let the stress of my upcoming week make me resort to bad habits. and before anyone wonders... the anecdote in the story? yeah that really happened. I gave myself stomach ulcers because I kept taking ibuprofen (it was for a horrible tooth ache) and I didn’t eat anything but saltines for days while I finished up a final project. word to the wise: don’t be like me. I’m dumb.

self care is important, everyone! I know a lot of people are starting school again, so please!!! take!! care!! of!!! yourselves!!

—

Lucifer was the first to notice something was up with MC, though initially he paid it no heed.

Naturally, he had always prided himself (of course) on his superior attention to detail, and

He had noticed them drinking cups of coffee and energy drinks a whole lot more often than usual, but given that finals were coming up, he figured they were simply trying to keep more awake for the sake of their studies.

None of this was healthy, of course, but he’d wait to scold them if it truly became worth his while to do so.

And so, he went on with his business, offering them advice as he had on many occasions before. He had even been kind enough to tutor them without the aid of his whip or his fire, something he would never do with any of his brothers. At one point he even let a snide comment under their breath go with just a stern warning.

He truly had gone soft, but he supposed it was best if he didn’t traumatize the human he and his brothers had formed such a strong bond with just for the sake of grades.

And while he had been the first to notice their new habits - all of his brothers had eventually caught on to what was going on.

It was the Saturday before finals that they all finally acknowledged that something needed to be done.

—

“They’re looking truly frightening!” Asmo exclaimed, and while typically his statements were brushed off by the rest as pure hyperbole, they all had to agree with this one. “They’ll get wrinkles in no time if they keep this up...”

“Yeah, somethin’ needs to be done,” Mammon commented, earning nods from his brothers — a truly rare occurrence in the House of Lamentation.

“Maybe I can plan a spa day!” Asmo interjected, an excited expression on his face.

“I don’t think havin’ ya feel ‘em up all day would help anythin,” Mammon grumbled, earning a scowl from the fifth-born in return.

“Perhaps...” Satan started.

“No,” Lucifer retorted, earning a look from the wrathful fourth-born.

He simply continued as if daggers weren’t being glared in his direction, “I don’t care how many times you try and paint it as a benefit for us all, you will not get a cat.”

Satan muttered something that sounded a lot like, “dammit,” under his breath, along with a couple of choice words that Lucifer ignored for the sake of pushing the conversation forward.

“I know! There’s this new TSL ultra-special extended-cut series box set that we can marathon! It has never-before-heard director commentary, along with a limited edition SIGNED replica of the—”

“That’s just gonna wind ‘em up even more!” The second-born responded, getting fed up with this already.

In truth, he was mainly irritated at himself for failing to notice that MC had gotten so bad. He was their first guy, he should’ve known!

“For once, I have to agree with Mammon,” the Avatar of Pride earned six dumbfounded looks with that, with Belphegor actually opening his eyes and Beelzebub nearly choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“MC needs sleep, not distractions,” he went on without missing a beat, “I very much doubt they’ve had more than four hours of sleep in the last five days, so that must be our first priority.”

“How do you suggest we do that? It isn’t like MC will concede easy, we all know how stubborn they are,” Satan asked.

“Simple,” Lucifer proclaimed, as his gaze fell upon the youngest brother, who had already fallen into a deep slumber once again. “We use force.”

Upon feeling the eyes of all his brothers fall on him, Belphegor stirred, a single violet eye opening. He grumbled, not bothering to sit up properly as he regarded the eldest with a tired expression.

“What?”

—

Lucifer had explained the very simple two-step ‘plan’ to Belphegor (step no. 1, corner the human so they can’t slip away - step no. 2, Belphie makes them sleep), and they were about to begin discussing when to put their plan into motion when footsteps echoed outside the common room.

MC walked in, looking a bit more than a little worse for wear (while their clothes and hair looked fine given the circumstances, the bags under their eyes had become so prominent that they were basically their own entity at this point).

“Oh, that’s where you guys were. I was wondering why the place was so quiet,” they tried to joke, but it came out in such a monotone way that it just sounded more like a simple statement.

Their brow furrowed a bit when they got no response from the seven demons, but they shrugged it off and put their bag down on the table, beginning to take out the many books they were going to need. They’d been barricaded in their room for quite some time, but they had needed a change of scenery. Not to mention, their bed had been way too tempting...

The silence in the room was deafening - even in their bleary state they could tell something was off - so eventually they turned around to see six pairs of eyes scrutinizing their every move (Belphegor was asleep, which didn’t surprise them.

“You guys are starting to freak me out,” they stifled a yawn and moved to grab their coffee, in desperate need of another pick-me-up.

If they had any hope of grasping the concepts in Devildom Law, they’d need it—

They were confused when they didn’t find it where they had left it - on the table, two seconds earlier - but not so when they noticed that Lucifer had suddenly appeared right next to them, their coffee in hand.

“Uhh, Luci? Kinda need that,” they let out a laugh and outstretched their hand, silently asking for it back.

“No, you’re cut off,” he declared, earning a sigh from MC. It wasn’t like they had been caught dancing on the tables after a few too many shots of Demonus. It was just coffee.

“You guys are worried, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing dozens of times before, I’ll be fine,” they tried to reassure, though in truth they had never been forced to study nearly as hard as they had for the classes at RAD.

“No, what yer gonna do is let us take care of ya’. Don’t ya trust us?” Mammon said gruffly, earning a look from the human.

“Yeah... you’re really fragile, being a human, and..” Beelzebub started, before trailing off with a frown, remembering they didn’t particularly like being told that. Even if it was objectively true.

“Seriously? I’m being lectured by a bunch of demons on healthy lifestyle choices?” They said, exasperated. “I already said, I’ve done so much worse before. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but this one time I was up for three nights straight in college.. Gave myself stomach ulcers during finals week because all I had to eat was a sleeve of saltines and some ibuprofen—” they laughed a bit before realizing - upon seeing everyone’s concern only increase - maybe that particular story wasn’t the best one to tell right at that very moment.

MC turned back to Lucifer, shooting him a pleading look. “I need to do well on these finals, Lucifer. I’m not going to make you guys look bad by completely bombing them all.”

The look in his eyes softened for a moment, before he sent someone behind them a terse nod.

Of course, they figured out just a little too late that this was far more than simply a discussion about their unhealthy sleeping habits.

They didn’t even need to look behind them to feel the overwhelming presence of the youngest brother weighing down on them.

While Belphie had done this sort of thing to them once or twice on accident while taking a nap nearby, it had never felt this.. overpowering.

They shot Lucifer a look, and he responded with a somewhat sympathetic look of his own.

“You can’t be serious about...” they trailed off, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “About.. this....”

MC soon fell into the waiting arms of the eldest, out like a light.

Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he scooped them up bridal-style, giving a quick nod to Beelzebub who had picked up his twin the same way.

It was a side-effect of the youngest’s ability; he could make someone of his choosing fall into a deep sleep if he wanted, but he’d always do the same.

It was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t spend most of the time sleeping anyway. At least he had full control over how long the other person slept and would always wake at the same time they did.

Now that he thought about it, he’d have to find an excuse to do this again sometime. Naps were way less fun when the person you’re napping with insists on getting up before you wanted them to.

“Pretty sure that’s a record for Belphie,” Satan mused, “I’ve never seen someone pass out like that in less than 10 seconds.”

—

Beelzebub happily chomped down on the many food items he had been supplied with as he waited for his twin and MC to awaken.

The rest of his brothers would have hated having to wait so long, but as long as he had food and his two favorite people in front of him....

Beel looked up from his snack when he heard the pair stir.

An annoyed expression settled on MC’s face as they opened their eyes, completely erasing the peaceful look they held moments before.

Beel frowned, knowing they had a reason to be annoyed, but also knowing that this was all for their own good.

Their face softened ever-so-slightly when they noticed Beelzebub, the one brother they could never stay mad at.

They were about to sit up when they realized there was an arm loosely caged around their waist. Behind them, they could feel the soft and slow breathing of the youngest demon brother, as if he wasn’t already awake.

They attempted to move away, but the loose grip quickly tightened, pushing them flush against Belphegor’s chest.

A satisfied hum escaped their ‘captor’ when MC gave up and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Belphegor said tiredly, nuzzling his face in their neck, much to their chagrin.

“I can’t believe you guys...” they finally said, their voice still rough from sleep. “How long?”

Beelzebub frowned again, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. “18 hours,” he finally said, bracing for the response.

“Wait, 18 hours?!” MC rolled their eyes when the demon behind them groaned at the exclamation. “I’m going to miss—”

“I arranged for your deadlines to be extended, don’t worry,” MC stiffened when they heard the eldest’s voice, knowing their inevitable lecture was likely to come sooner rather than later.

They moved to sit up again, though this time their living restraint let it happen, turning over to hopefully get just 5 more minutes of sleep...

The human winced upon seeing the stern gaze Lucifer was giving them, though his eyes were notably softer than usual.

“While I appreciate the unwavering dedication to your studies,” he started, moving to sit on the edge of the bed near the two former sleeping beauties, “you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Achievement means nothing if you end up comatose before you reach the finish line.”

MC looked down, guilt settling on their face. Fair point from the Avatar of Pride.

“I—” they tried to start, but a gloved finger pressed against their lips before they could get anywhere.

“No arguments.”

MC sighed, tossing a defeated look to the eldest. All they got in response was a chuckle and his signature smug look.

Silence permeated the room for a moment before Lucifer spoke up again.

“You will report to my study promptly after dinner every night without exception until you are finished with everything,” he said, the edge in his voice coming back in full force. “Understand?”

MC nodded in response. Figures he’d implement something like this.

“Good. I will help you study a portion of the time, while Satan will help with the rest.”

The human resisted the urge to groan at this. Great, two drill sergeants for the price of one. Literally.

They felt their cheeks flare with heat when they felt Lucifer’s gloved hand cup their cheek as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

“Your well-being is important to all of us,” he said, pulling back. “Never forget that.”

“Lucifer is—” Beel interjected mid-bite before he quickly swallowed. “—right.”

“Won’t hear me arguin’ on that!” Mammon piped up as he filed into the room with the four brothers who weren’t already in there to begin with.

“Lucifer said I could plan a spa day when you finish up! Just you and me... sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?” Asmodeus announced, tossing a wink toward MC.

“Oi! If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you got another thing comin’, Asmo!” Mammon growled, earning an eye roll from the Avatar of Lust.

“You have nothing to worry about, as long as I’m your tutor,” Satan interjected before a true fight could break out.

“You better finish up quickly, because there’s this new game is coming out—!” Leviathan practically vibrated with excitement before letting out a terrified sound.

“Don’t put too much stress on them,” Lucifer’s aura flared.

“Oh, uh...” Levi corrected, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. “T-take all the time you n-need...”

MC couldn’t help but crack a smile at the brothers’ antics, their previous annoyance at the unexpected 18-hour nap all but gone (though they would have to speak to Lucifer about boundaries.. while they agreed that their health was important, essentially supernaturally drugging someone still wasn’t okay).

“You guys are too much,” they said, their cheeks flaring. “Just how did I end up stuck with all of you?”

Silence fell upon the room for a very brief moment at the question, before chaos (naturally) resumed its regularly scheduled programming.

[bigskydreaming]

Hello, hello, tis I, your friendly neighborhood ‘dude who is obsessed with people making jokes and insults out of Dick’s name’ back with another episode of Why No But Seriously Why!

In today’s episode, we’re going to focus on the fanon of the swear jar. That thing ordained by Alfred that makes many an appearance in fics and headcanons....including ones that also show Jason and/or others calling Dick a Dickhead and other things all willy nilly and suchlike and forthwith.

How does this track, asketh I? Does Alfred provide exemption clauses for making fun of your brother, to the others? Does Alfred not consider making crude insults out of the name Dick to be a swear? Does Alfred, a born Brit, hailing from the land of the “We’ve Been Calling Richards ‘Dicks’ For Longer Than The Rest Of You Have Been Calling Them Rich’s,” not consider the fascination with making penis jokes out of the name of a child he’s helped raised from the age of EIGHT to be uncultured, crass and frankly unacceptable in any house he resides in?

I’m just saying, does it really make sense, and is the risk of pulling readers out of your story if they’re NOT amused by the jokes made of his name really worth whatever it is you feel is added to a story BY making the same old jokes about Dick’s name?

As I’ve said many times before....Dick Grayson? Fictional character. Has no feelings that actually need protecting....OUTSIDE of fiction. Making jokes about his name from beyond the fourth wall, just people commenting on a fictional character’s name? Go wild, go crazy, have a freaking Bacchanalia. Truly does not matter, if you ask me.

But IN universe? IN fiction? Totally different story, because look what those jokes require or make assumptions out of:

1) That Dick truly has no protective or defensive feelings whatsoever about his childhood nickname, and genuinely feels nothing about people habitually taking his choice to keep it as an invitation to insult or mock him.

1b) That Dick doesn’t in any way ever perceive peoples’ insistence on associating his name MORE with the insults and penis jokes than they do with it just being a name, to in any way be a slight against his beloved parents, of the “well they should have known better than to call him that” variety.

1c) That Dick has no negative feelings whatsoever about the fact that even his close friends and family regard his name as being no more worthy of respect or being ‘offlimits’ than the average Gothammite or public citizen might regard it, despite the fact that his close friends and family are perfectly aware of the public’s history of looking down on Dick for his origins and thus you’d think would WANT to appear different than them in Dick’s eyes.

1d) That Dick has never at any point expressed anger, frustration or bitterness that he can’t even have his name respected without even loved ones superimposing their own associations on top of it, no matter what it means to HIM.

2) That Alfred truly has no opinions whatsoever of the other charges in his care disrespecting Dick’s name and its origins stemming from his first parents.

2b) That Alfred has never expressed this opinion to any of them or made his displeasure about such jokes known.

2c) That Alfred doesn’t find it disappointing that the rest of the family and associated friends and allies seem disinclined to separate themselves from the general public’s opinions of Dick’s name by regarding it with a little more respect as at least a sign that they regard Dick himself with a little more respect than the general public.

3) That Jason or none of Dick’s other friends or family have never taken the initiative to wonder for themselves how Dick might actually feel about the frequent jokes or insults, and if shockingly, he might not actually be fond of them.

3b) That Jason or Dick’s other friends or family have chosen not to care or respect the opinions of Dick and/or Alfred or anyone else who states or suggests that these jokes or insults aren’t welcome.

4) That none of Dick’s other friends, be they Titans, or Uncle Clark, or siblings like Cass or Damian or frankly anyone, ever speak up in defense of Dick’s name and suggest that there’s a significant lack of respect around it and thus around him, that they personally take a very dim view of. (Even when Jason’s best friends include Dick’s former fianceé and own longtime BFF).

5) That nobody has ever bothered to think that only EVER being addressed by some form of insult by even his own siblings might possibly have a slightly demoralizing effect on someone’s self-esteem over time.

5b) That nobody has ever bothered to think that making sexual jokes about his name and thus innately sexualizing Dick from even his earliest days in Gotham, when coupled with the hyper-sexualized stereotypes people often apply to Romani individuals and further coupled with the suggestive rumors surrounding Bruce’s reasons for taking in a young boy, might possibly have contributed over time to Dick having an extremely skewed view of himself as an innately sexualized being no matter what he actually did in terms of sexual behavior.

I mean.....there’s more. If I felt like it.

But the point is......there’s a LOT of implicit assumptions that creep in alongside the seemingly harmless jokes and insults surrounding Dick’s name, the second you start to really focus in on how it might appear from his POV....IF you include even just the possibility that he DOESN’T like it.

EDIT: Also, lots of people have pointed out that its just sibling culture to make fun of a sibling in ways that you wouldn’t be okay with someone outside the family making the same jokes. And this is absolutely true! BUT. My issue here and why I don’t think the Dickhead jokes fall under this umbrella, is because I can say in my experience being from a blended family, and from what I’ve discussed in the past with other kids from blended families....there are ‘rules’ about this sort of thing, when you have adopted siblings, and the one near-universal truth that I’ve always found is that anything that stems from an adopted sibling’s first family, the one you do NOT share with them, is absolutely off limits. You mock them for something that originated outside your family, you’re the asshole, because at that point, you’re literally no different from outsiders to your current family making fun of that sibling. That ‘joke’ is not YOURS to make or share in, if you do not have the history with the thing you’re basing the joke on, that your sibling has with it. Shared history is the entire basis of siblings being able to mock each other while still citing solidarity against outsiders, and in adopted families, there absolutely are elements of each others’ lives that YOU are the outsider to, and it absolutely falls on you to respect that just as you’d want your sibling to respect the same of you in turn. If Jason absolutely would not be okay with Dick or anyone else making jokes about Catherine or his life with her, he should not be okay with making jokes about Dick’s name, circus origins, or other aspects of his life that stem from or call back to his time with his first family. The same holds true of all the others as well.

The other aspect of this name-calling not falling under the excuse-umbrella of just being typical sibling culture is its entirely one-sided. Show me the tendency where Dick responds to these everpresent jokes or insults by even light-heartedly calling Jason and the others insults like Hey Asshole, or Dumbass or anything like that. When things are entirely one-way, the impression given is not that of a camaraderie of back-and-forth. It becomes just one person or multiple people punching down in a way they feel confident from experience the other person will NOT respond in kind, which gives them an outlet for venting frustration, resentment or aggravation which risks them nothing, because they KNOW Dick won’t retaliate, and at that point that exchange becomes something very different from a general sibling back-and-forth....because there’s no ‘back.’ What you end up with at that point is literally just hostility, no matter if more mild than other cases, and a situation where one sibling is simply taking ADVANTAGE of the opportunity afforded by another sibling’s good nature and refusal to engage in hurt feelings even while you feel free to cause those feelings in them. And that’s just not a good look. Its just not. And even if you find those exchanges humorous yourself as a writer or a reader, you might want to keep in mind that to plenty of other readers, its making even the characters you like and INTEND to be liked, just....come across as kinda not cool assholes instead.

END OF EDIT.

And here’s the other point:

Its not really about his name, and never has been.

His name is simply emblematic of how EASY it is for people to fall into the trap of just....choosing to overlook Dick’s POV entirely, the second its pitted against other characters and what they might gain from their POV....even if that ‘gain’ is as simple and basic as the slight moment of humor Jason gets from making a joke or mocking insult out of Dick’s name.

Here, let me present this another way:

Every single person alive has SOMETHING they get defensive or protective about. SOMETHING that they’re like no, this is offlimits to people, this is not for their consumption, their entertainment, its not for THEM to take and twist into something other than what it is for ME, because its MINE. This is basic human nature. EVERYONE has this feeling about SOMETHING that’s particular to them.

And with Dick, most of the things that we’re generally given to view him being protective or defensive about are either almost more about other people than him - such as being protective of his family members - or else, they’re things that he’s not ALLOWED to be purely defensive or say, territorial about.

Like for instance, the name Robin.

Think about how Robin is pretty much one of the ONLY things Dick is largely deemed to be defensive or proprietary about.....BUT how that’s also largely used NOT to have him wholly in the right for feeling that way.....but to put him in conflict with the other Robins, given that they also have strong feelings about the name regardless of its origins, and its not solely Dick’s anymore.

Now here’s my question:

If for example, you go with the take that Robin was Dick’s mother’s name for him, and that’s why Dick is so protective and defensive of that name.....why would he be any LESS protective or defensive about his mother AND father’s OTHER name for him....given that the only possible reason for him TO stick with the name Dick all throughout adulthood, is that its the form of his name they referred to him by, and thus, clearly, it DOES carry emotional significance for him?

See what I’m saying?

Why is it, that the only time so many people see Dick laying a claim to something, being defensive or protective of something that’s HIS, standing up for HIMSELF.....is when the waters are murky, when its not a clear cut case of him being wholly in the right, when it pits Dick against someone else and says both are at least somewhat valid?

Why is it so RARE to see people imagine Dick putting his foot down in defense of himself, in defense of something that’s HIS.....where its 100% crystal clear that he has every right and reason in the world to feel this way, where there’s no doubt whatsoever that he’s on the correct side of thinking “this is mine and I get to say this”?

Even about something as simple and basic as his own name?

And why is it the only time we seem to see people sticking up for Dick or weighing in on his behalf, its in the case of extreme actions like him having been raped or abused? Why are there hardly any stories of people looking at alleged family and friends bitching about Dick or heaping insults on him or his capabilities and saying hey, he’s been doing this while most of us were sitting in middle school detention, you could show him some respect? Why do none of the people who value and respect Dick so highly ever seem to weigh in like THAT in stories?

My challenge, should you choose to accept it, is just to look at the above list of possible reasons why Dick might not be thrilled about how people use his name....and just IMAGINE what it would look like, if Dick just said to another character....”Hey. Could you cut that out. I would appreciate it if you didn’t do that.” Even just “I really don’t like that.”

How does a scene like that go? One where Dick is wholly and completely justified in putting his foot down, in feeling that someone is overstepping or paying him an insult or a disservice?

We hear all the time in fandom about how in the name of ‘humanizing’ Dick and ‘making him more relatable’ some people focus overly much on emphasizing his flaws, his alleged temper, his secretiveness, etc.

I’d like to argue that flaws are not actually the only staple of humanity. Risking making a character more dislikable is not actually the only way to make them feel more human or relatable. THIS is another way to do that. Make them defensive, proprietary, territorial, even prickly.....but with REASON. With CAUSE. With JUSTIFICATION. Because people are ALLOWED to be, when people are being a - all irony intended - total dick to them.

And there is a long, LONG history in fanfics, of people being exactly that to Dick, and him just....smiling.

EXCEPT for when his choice NOT to smile, and to actually take offense and push back......pits him against another character but with the other character usually being granted just as much right and reason to not give way.

So? I’m saying you have right here a perfect example of how to flip the script on that. To make it abundantly clear that Dick has just as much right to put his foot down with even people who love and care about him and say hey, you’re doing something I don’t like, that in fact even hurts me, and I want you to stop.

Why not use it? Why does there always seem to need to be an ARGUMENT about whether or not Dick is in the right to feel wronged in some way.....when its so abundantly clear that he’s given no shortage of reasons for that in practically every other fic?

And consider.....if you’ve never previously entertained the idea that Dick might take offense to how people treat his name, or feel defensive about it......what else might you be overlooking that he could feel that way about, and is there any reason why you think you tend not to view Dick as being defensive of HIMSELF and things that are uniquely his?

*Shrugs* Just food for thought, mayhaps.

[endless-love-ushigina]

Third Times the Charm

Character: Nanami

Warnings: None, it’s pure fluff 

A/N: Shoutout to @isseisbbg for yet again, reading through this and helping me! I’ve finally written a fluffy piece, and it’s honestly made me very soft. I hope you enjoy this! I’m hoping to keep writing some JJK content, because I love that show! I hope you all have good lives! Feel free to send me message just to chat, I love making friends

You walked into your office on the Tokyo Jujutsu Tech campus and noticed something sitting on your desk wrapped neatly in a napkin. You kept your gaze locked on it as you took your coat off and hung it up on the designated hook in your office. Despite having already unlocked your office to get in, you checked the lock to ensure that it hadn’t been tampered with in the slightest before walking to the napkin on your desk and opened up the napkin revealing a chocolate donut. 

“How did this even get here,” you muttered and glanced around your office. You were concerned as to how anybody got into your office, and the fact that it was one of your favorite treats on your desk. You sighed as you threw the donut away. As much as you wanted to eat the treat, you knew it would be foolish with recent events. It’s absurd to think a curse left a donut on your desk, but you weren’t taking any chances. You grabbed your bag and water bottle before walking out of your office, so you could make it to a class you were teaching to the second years. 

After teaching a couple classes, you found yourself walking towards the tree that you normally eat lunch at. Nanami usually joins you for lunch, even though he isn’t a teacher at Jujutsu Tech. He always plans his lunch breaks around yours, which you have always found sweet. You couldn’t help the smile that washed over your face as you saw him sitting under the tree, but before you made it to him you felt someone grasp your wrist bringing you to a halt. 

“(Y/N), I’m glad I ran into you! I’ve had a very pressing matter that I’ve been wanting to talk to you about,” You heard Gojo’s voice. Turning, you smiled at your close friend. You knew whatever he wanted to talk about really wasn’t truly important. 

“Hurry up Gojo, you’re cutting into my Nanami time,” you said and glanced back at the man, who appeared quite annoyed at Gojo interrupting. 

“Yes, yes, it’s just important. I saw you throwing away a donut this morning, when you know I’m your human garbage can,” Gojo said quite loudly. 

“I had no idea where it came from, I didn’t want anyone to die eating it. Now leave, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You turned him around and pushed him away. 

“Human garbage can, for any food, but especially for sweets,” he yelled while walking off, and you just rolled your eyes at the man while walking over and sitting next to Nanami. 

“You threw a donut away this morning?” Nanami questioned while giving you half of his sandwich, and you gave him half of yours. 

“It was the weirdest thing, there was one just sitting on my desk this morning, and I couldn’t eat that. I have no idea where it came from. Gojo clearly has lower standards than I do,” you chuckled and ate Nanami’s half sandwich first. “I’m just worried about how someone got into my office. I know this campus is relatively safe, and that I’m a Grade 1 Sorcerer, but I still get nervous.”

You glanced at Nanami when he didn’t respond, and he seemed to be lost in thought. “You okay there, Kento?” You smiled using his first name to pull him out of his thoughts. 

He smiled gently at you before taking a bite of your sandwich, “I’m just fine.” He didn’t tell you that the donut was from him, and that he was beating himself up over the fact that he left a mysterious donut in your office.

The next morning when you walked into your office, you saw another neatly wrapped parcel sitting on your desk. You didn’t even bother taking off your jacket as you opened it up to see another chocolate donut, this time accompanied with a note. 

‘I hope you enjoy this donut on me, I know how much you enjoy your chocolate  desserts. I got it from the bakery up the road, no need to toss this one.’

There was no signature, and the note was typed out so you couldn’t even figure out the handwriting. Gojo must have left this here after you told him what happened yesterday. He loves to mess with you, and he knows you were a little paranoid about how someone got in here. You know he can easily weasel his way in and out of places. You rolled your eyes and hung up your coat. 

You had a meeting with a few other sorcerers this morning in regards to the recent rise in curses, and the school proceeding with the Kyoto exchange event. Grabbing your water bottle and the donut, you jogged to the meeting room. You knew you’d be the last one, everyone knew your worst quality was being later than Gojo. 

“(Y/N), it’s about time,” Yaga said, nodding at you. 

“I’m so sorry,” you stated quickly and went to stand next to Gojo. “Here’s the donut you got. You knew someone sneaking into my office freaked me out a bit, and here you are making jokes. Please never do that again, I don’t want your donut.”  

“Wait, I…” Gojo started but you already walked off, as Yaga started the meeting, and went and sat right next to Nanami at the table who watched the entire scene play out. You could sense that hei seemed pretty tense, but you didn’t say much of it trying to pay attention to Yaga. 

Nanami watched as Gojo ate the donut that he had gotten for you, and he couldn’t help but feel irritated. Not at you, but at himself and at Gojo. He knew he should have signed the note, or given you the donut in person at the meeting this morning, but he just couldn’t work up the courage to do such a simple task. He had even talked to Gojo about the incident yesterday, so he knew who was leaving you donuts, and yet Gojo still sat across from him eating the donut. Gojo wasn’t the person he wanted to be spending his money to buy treats for. 

You noticed Nanami really wasn’t paying attention to Yaga, so you made sure to nudge him and Nanami glanced at you. “It’s not like you to not pay attention.” 

He just nodded softly at you and focused his attention back to Yaga. You didn’t notice the smirk Gojo was wearing as he ate the donut, but Nanami couldn’t have missed it. 

You were hustling to get to your office. Your hair was still in the bun you wore to sleep, you had your glasses on today instead of your contacts, and you were wearing the first thing you grabbed. Today, your only goal was to get to your office 30 minutes early, and hope it was early enough to catch any more office break in attempts. As you were walking past a bakery on the way to the school you glanced in and saw Nanami and he was being handed a chocolate donut. Your eyes widened realizing it looked just like the donuts that have been on your desk the past couple days. You quickly walked off to the side to get out of the way, now very curious and wanting to follow Nanami.

You watched as he walked forward, and continued on the path to Jujutsu Tech, which was strange. There wasn’t a meeting today that he needed to attend, and he didn’t teach at the school. You quickly followed behind him, but also made sure you were going unnoticed. You watched him walk all the way to your office, and open the door with a key. You were confused for many reasons: Why was Nanami sneaking you donuts? Why didn’t he just give them to you in person? And finally, how did he get a key for your office? 

You weren’t going to let him run off without getting answers to your questions, so as soon as you saw him closing the door to your office and locking it, you jumped in front of him and he instantly tensed. 

“Kento!” you all but shouted. 

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here so early?” Nanami asked while he put his hand on the back of his neck rubbing it awkwardly. 

“I was trying to figure out who kept leaving me donuts, because I guess I was really overthinking it. How’d you get a key to my office, Kento? I also don’t want to sound rude, but why are you getting me donuts, anonymously?” 

“At our lunches, you were always complaining about not getting breakfast, but never being willing enough to wake up earlier to fix the issue. So, I wanted to fix that issue for you.”

You felt your heart swell at those words, and your face heat up. You looked down instantly, not wanting Nanami to see you. “I’m so sorry I threw one away, and gave one to Gojo.” you quickly said. “Although, in my defense, you left no notes that said it was from you!”

“I know, I know-- it’s okay. I wasn’t going to leave a signed note today either. I didn’t want to explain how I got the key to your office. I was hoping you’d realize they were safe to eat after seeing Gojo didn’t die from the one you gave him yesterday.” 

You smiled looking up at Nanami. “Why’d you get them for me though? This is an extra 25 minutes added to your mornings?” 

“You definitely don’t make this easy, (y/n),” he sighed and as you looked up with a confused expression about to say something, you felt Nanami’s lips land on yours and his hands cradle each side of your face in a breathtaking kiss. You quickly leaned into the kiss, closing your eyes, and enjoyed the moment until Nanami pulled away. “I hope that spells it out a little more clearly for you.”

You had a huge smile plastered on your face as you looked up at Nanami. “Well I guess third times the charm,” Nanami chuckled softly at your statement and let go of you, and you quickly fished your keys out of your pocket and placed them in the lock. “Now I’m ready to go eat a donut, you know, chocolate is my favorite. I’ll see you at lunch, Kento, but I’m afraid you’re still going to have to explain to me how you got a set of keys to my office.”

[gibbyisbatman]

Three’s Company

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

18+

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, dirty talk, double penetration, swallowing, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it)

  Two bodies sit together on a deep seated sofa, legs crossed and engrossed in conversation. The topic being something taboo and a bit hard to bring up, but there was no sliver of embarrassment or shame between words. A simple couple communicating their thoughts and ideas about a not-so-simple act that wanted to be added to their bedroom life. That idea being one that will either be loved or hated, there is not much room in the middle. This idea is to add another body to the mix, allowing them entry into the hot and heavy atmosphere that swirls around with the intoxicating smell of sweat and arousal.

"Are you sure that you are okay with this idea, Bucky?" Y/N asked, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt. The smirk on his lips never faltered, his presence exuding confidence. His hands wraps themselves around Y/N's, squeezing gently. "Of course, I'm okay with this. I wouldn't agree if I wasn't. This is something that I want too. Now the question is, who?" A bright smile spreads across Y/N's face as she speaks, "Um. I was thinking about Stevie."

  Days had passed since Y/N's conversation with Bucky about having a threesome with Steve. Anxiety picked at the back of her skull as she waited impatiently for an answer from either man. Had Steve been freaked out by the proposal? Did Bucky change his mind about having another man touch his girl so intimately? There were many questions that swirled in her thoughts, until her phone buzzed like clockwork. A message from Bucky popped up on the screen and it read, "He said yes! Tonight! Do what you need to doll! Love you!"

Y/N heads to her bathroom with a pep in her step. She decides to take a hot shower, scrubbing her body with a delicious wash. After finishing the shower and drying off, Y/N applies a touch of makeup and smiles at her appearance. In the bedroom, she fishes out a simple, yet sexy matching set of black lace. All dolled up for herself and the men of the night, Y/N wraps her body in a small silk robe to wait.

  Bucky can be heard unlocking the door to the apartment quickly, ready for what the night has in store. Steve shuffles in after, cheeks colored with a tinge of pink as his eyes scan the area. Both men perk up immediately at the sound of footsteps, Y/N's to be exact. She stands  in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. "Hi boys! Nice to see you two!" She exclaims. The boyfriend makes his way to the beautiful girl, greeting her with a short, but passionate kiss. "Look at you, doll! You dressed up for some special occasion?”  Lust already brewing in Bucky's voice, "Why don't you go greet our guest."

America's Golden Boy meets Y/N halfway, waiting for her to make the first move. Her soft hands glide up his bicep with a squeeze and a smile. "It's nice to see you, Stevie. Not to be rude, but can we skip past all of the small talk and pleasantries? We all know what's happening." Y/N says almost innocently, batting her lashes at one half of the super soldier population. Bucky runs his hands down her back and to her hips, resting them there. "Someone is eager, huh, babygirl?" The men share a look before Bucky continues, "Let's set some ground rules, shall we?" With the nod of the other two parties, he pipes up once more. "If anyone says to stop, you stop immediately. Steve, you will not cum in her pretty pussy, no matter how good she feels. And her ass is off limits." Bucky states in a gruff, demanding tone.

He looks to you and then to Steve, silently observing if there were any silent objections. "Both of you need to use your words." In an instant, both Y/N and the Captain voice their agreement, understanding the rules that were just put into place. "Good, now let's take this to the bedroom and get started." Sergeant Barnes orders, pinching Y/N's ass and making her squeal. All three bodies shuffle into the candle lit bedroom, the men kicking off shoes and shrugging off clothing with each step forward.

Y/N is quickly pinned between two hot bodies, Bucky's mouth working against her own as Steve places wet, open-mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. A small whimper falls from her mouth, only to be swallowed down by Bucky. The robe is untied by determined fingers and thrown carelessly in a corner, offering more exposed skin to be sucked, nipped and caressed. Warm hands unhooked the clasp of the bra, tossing it aside, before roughly kneading the flesh of supple breasts. A broken moan rips from her throat as she tried to press into the hands further.

Within seconds, Y/N is thrown onto the bed and her panties tore from her body. "Mmm. Look at my beautiful girl, sprawled out and soaked for us." Bucky growled, licking his swollen lips. Steve situates himself on the bed, mesmerized by the body in front of him that was wrecked with anticipation. "Go ahead, man. I know you want to dig in." Bucky chuckles darkly, watching as his best friend and co-worker looks to his girl for further consent and dives directly into her intoxicating heat once he does. Y/N's face contorts with pleasure as Steve's lips latch around her bundle of nerves and flicks his tongue relentlessly.

Bucky levels his hard length at his girl's mouth, tapping the tip against her lips twice signaling for her to take him in. She immediately opens up, sucking the swollen tip in her hot mouth with a moan. "That's right, doll, take my cock like a good girl. You like this don't you? Sucking me off while little Stevie eats your pussy." His words mix with the already overwhelming  pleasure coming from Steve's mouth and fingers and the heavy feeling of his cock moving in her mouth, cause her eyes to roll back. The Captain pulls away, chin and lips shiny with arousal, "You taste so good. I could stay here all day and night." He moans as he dives back in, the vibrations send shock-waves throughout her body. Bucky's cock still assaults Y/N's throat, using her mouth how he wishes, he groans loudly before pulling out. He watches as several quick flicks of Steve’s tongue throws her over the edge, leaving Y/N panting and shaking under the large man situated over her lower half.

"Fuck! That was one of the hottest things I've ever seen" Bucky hisses with steady strokes of his cock, watching you come down from your first orgasm as Steve licks his lips clean. "Taste yourself, sweetheart." Stevie mutters, lust dripping from his words as he offers his slick fingers for Y/N to suck clean. She eagerly does so, not stopping until the taste of herself is free from his digits.

Y/N is flipped onto her hands and knees, Bucky fitting his body behind her and Steve at her front. A shiver runs down her spine, ready for whatever, or whoever, comes next. Her eyes lock onto the blonde man's leaking length, licking her lips with want. "Suck him off, babygirl. He was so good to you, now make him cum. Ugh! I'm gonna fuck you hard while you use your dirty mouth on my buddy." Bucky hisses through grit teeth, his hand tugging hard on the head of hair in front of him.

Giving Y/N no time to adjust, Bucky slams into her wet heat and stays buried to the hilt until Steve's cock was hitting the back of her throat. Bucky pulls out slowly, Steve follows after, setting a teasing pace for the woman between them. A small hand reached up to fondle and play with the blue-eyed blonde's heavy balls, only adding to the stimulating pleasure he was feeling. Both men thrust harder and deeper; pulling moans, grunts and the sounds of lewd wetness from all three of them. Bucky's vibranium hand snakes around to rub tight circles around Y/N's clit to bring her closer to orgasm as his rapidly approached. Y/N could feel both Bucky and Steve's  thrusts lose their rhythm after some time as they got closer and closer to finishing. Her orgasm rushes over her whole being with white hot pleasure.

"Pull out! Don't cum yet!" The older man barked out. Steve thrusts stalled and he pulled his still very hard member out from Y/N's mouth with a whimper. Bucky pulls out seconds later with a grunt, making Y/N let out a pathetic whine from loss of contact. The large men switch places and wait for a few moments, their needy cocks ready to fill wanting holes. "You better not cum in her, punk." Bucky growls, reminding the other two bodies who was in charge. Steve nodded without so much as a grumble, knowing the terms that were clearly laid out before anything began.

Both men slid home in unison, creating a chorus of sweet moans that sang out in the sex soiled room. There was no slow pace or steady strokes. It was fast and hard right out the gate. The harsh thrusts of one man pushed Y/N's body onto the other, back and forth, over and over again. 

Steve angled his hips just right to hit Y/N's g-spot every time he drove his long member into her quivering heat. The whimpers and moans that long to be released from deep inside  Y/N are intercepted by Bucky's girthy member that slide along the girl's wet tongue. The soft vibrations only adding to his pleasure as he continues to fuck Y/N’s face, the sensation making his balls tighten.  Steve's thrusts get sloppy as his large hand snakes around to rub Y/N's swollen clit fast and hard in the hopes of bringing her to another orgasm.

The super soldiers cum shortly after one another. Y/N falls over the edge, her whole body threatening to collapse into a boneless pile in the middle. Bucky jerks and grunts, spilling rope after rope of sticky cum down Y/N's throat, forcing her to swallow it down quickly. Steve cums seconds later, pulling out just in time to shoot his load across Y/N's lower back and ass.

  The three fucked out bodies lay there for quite some time, trying to recover enough to move. Y/N eventually drifts off to sleep after Bucky wipes her down and covers her up. Both men smile at the woman, content with the events that took place. "Thanks for inviting me in on this, man. I know it's a big deal for you both. Just remember me if you two want to try this again." Steve says, his hand patting Bucky on the shoulder.

[ushiwakaout]

parings: Kenma x reader, Oikawa x reader

warning: Fluff, bad grammar. nsfw under black line. fem reader. TIME SKIP HAIKYUU

a/n: request are open! please don’t be afraid to do so!

Kozume Kenma

Match made in heaven

Both of you are at home workers, other than the fact that kenma is a CEO of his own company

You work for him, you’re his editor and you work pretty fast since you obviously do nothing in your day but edit and binge watch anime

you guys could probably go days without talking and just communicate physically and understand everything.

If you go to the store, and he’s gaming that’s when you’ll talk

Always knock before you go into his little studio room

You never come behind him anymore because one time he was filming a scary gameplay with a heart monitor and everyone thought you gave him a heart attack 

but no, kenma is just baby and you wanted a good laugh- you felt really bad about it tho bc it was live and you where crying your ass off and he was yelling at you 

fake breakup video like the next day for trolling

Okaya anywho

if you want his attention and he’s live, you remove one side of his headset and kiss his cheek (theres a several compilation videos of you doing that all over youtube) “I’m going to the store, you want anything?” 

you always wait like 30 seconds and caress him a little to let him know you’re physically there and not just standing there.

“Uh- yeah... yeah. Hold on.” (there is also a compilation of kenma just ignoring you and you just standing there until he answers) 

you always end up naming his favorite snacks, drinks and food and he either agrees or denies. 

everyone thinks its weird how your relationship works

SOME MANY VIDEOS OF “kenma and y/n communicating without any words” 

you go many places by yourself since kenma does very long streams or just long videos

you both stay up really late together

if hes not making videos hes looking at paperwork and if hes not doing that he’s helping you edit

somehow kenma is the more productive one

you have channel yourself that slowly grows thanks to kenma

you only do lives and leave up the whole streams bc you dread editing but you’ll do anything for kenma

just to make extra cash you have and OF

most of the videos consist of watching you play video game while kenma eats you out under the desk

a lot of audios because kenma doesn’t like being his face filmed while having sex

theres a video in your own OF when you do a tik tok trend where you surprise him while he’s filming 

“Kenma can you help me for a second.”

“Hmm, what is it kitten?” 

He paused his game and while his chair turned you undid your robe

Luckly he’s not live and kept the camera on

He just smiles and spreads his legs for you

(gdiewgsfiuchsiufviusdghvypofgsivhrwshb my brain is malfunctioning ugh im so in love with kenma its not even funny)

He makes you sit on his lap, as he suckles your nipple in his mouth. 

His hand firmed tightly around your rips as he kisses every inch of your chest

“You’re so pretty... So fucking pretty.” He mumbles. He’s kissing down your chest all the way to your tummy before picking you up and making you stand 

He makes you stand in front of the camera while stands behind you and kisses the crook of your neck. 

“I want you to look in the camera for me kitten, can you do that?” He kisses her jaw “Can you be a good girl for me?”

(wow if i write any more smut for kenma i think i might go crazy jskwbvbdei)

sex is very much a frequent thing, most of the time it starts as cock warming while watching a movie and two second later your begging to milk kenmas cock again

he loves when you beg for his cock, makes him feel wanted

he loves feeling your tight pussy clench around him when hes about to cum and you’re cumming for the third time, panting, begging, crying to having him fill you up with his hot cum.

Blow jobs under his desk or while hes on an important call are a must.

you love watching his cock slowly twitch with pre cum when you lick his shaft

mmm i need to stop- i love him so much ugh

Oikawa Tooru 

Being lazy in argentina was a dream but a little lonely

Tooru was always away at practive but lcukly the apartment he had been renting had a pool, and you spend most of your days at the pool, reading or playing some game he just bought you

you hate how early he freaking wakes up

hes making breakfast and blending shakes at like 5 in the morning 

there’s days he doesn’t really mean to wake you, you know the difference bc if he wants to wake you he’ll leave the blender run for a while and if h doesn’t he does it in seperate pulses so it’s not so damn loud

if he does it on purpose, he has breakfast ready for you before his own

doesn’t expect you to stick around after you eat 

when he wakes you on accident he’s like “Oh my baby i’m so sorry honey.” 

cue kiss attacks, warm hugs and him making you a cup of coffee/tea, whatever you prefer that morning

he’s so sweet

he knows you work hard too (even tho it doesn’t seem like it bc people think youtubers and streamers have an easy job when it clearly is mentally very stressful)

He knows that when he wakes you up, you had legit just gone to bed like two hours ago. 

sometimes you sleep though the noise and before he leaves he wakes you up just a little so he can kiss you goodbye.

its always something like *shake* *shake* “Baby.... honey”  *caressing of the head/cheek/hair* “I gotta go to practice now, give me a kiss princess.” you always wake up to the sound of that and give his a really sweet and tender kiss. Oikawa really just wants to fall back asleep with you and hold you, especially today since it was a cold morning

after you give him the kiss, you caress his cheek and then shove him away- a little jumpy that he need to go. “Love you.” you mutter before covering yourself with the blankets 

he always slaps your ass over the blankets, it never huts but it’s just a sign of his actually leaving to practice 

You wear his stuff when he leaves

low key have attachment issues since you moved with him to Argentina

other than pool side reading, or doing a few laps before breakfast- you really don’t do anything but work.

Work for you consisted you of just playing video games or streaming

You’re popular on the female side of gamers 

sometimes you have streams where you ask your fans to play and write down their handles and you’d add them to a game or sum

Everyone knows your dating a professional volleyball player an they think it’s an interesting duo

You cry when Tooru brought Hinata over, he smelt like home

you def. helped him adjust to the life in argentina bc it’s nothing like home.

hinata comes over for dinner ever weekend

if you’re not working or at the pool, you’re in a white hoddie and some shorts, just watching Hinata play some beach volleyball while playing some game

You very much remind him of kenma- it helped a lot when he got some sick- you didn’t really ‘help’ you just cried with him about how much you miss home

although your schedule isnt the best, youre always awake when tooru gets home, always there to greet him with kisses 

hes lucky you like cooking, bc he always comes home to an empty stomach 

you’re probably the slowest cooker he knows but you take your sweet time bc you know that it always comes out w the best result and he doesnt complain anymore

baths w oikawa are frequent

muscles sores are a usual so seconds before he gets home theres a hot bath being  pampered with your love for him

you work so slow on everything hes surprised you actually get stuff done

a little offended that he doesn’t believe in your slow work ethic bc it worked since highschool.

there had been times where he just ask if you’re not ever sick of being at home locked in all day and it stated a very month long fight.

sleeping in different rooms

(LIL ANGST AHEAD)

Tooru can hear you cry from the other room

he didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, he really didn’t. he just doesn’t want you to regret anything- especially moving here with him

you hate it when he questions your life ethics. it makes you feel like a failure and unworthy.

your life is simple and you like it that way but the second he questions it you think that you aren’t doing enough

will 100% sleep outside your door because he can’t sleep alone anymore. he’s gotten used to you being right next to him

you realize that it seems he’s given up so now it’s time to go to the kitchen and get water

but to your surprise tooru is very asleep on the doorframe when you open the door. it’s makes your heart ache just a little bit. he looks tired, his eyes are puffy but he looks so at peace.

you wake him up to go to bed but he has other plans.

he’s kissing you so sweetly, every piece of skin he can find he will kiss

will carry you to bed and kiss your tummy as your shirt ran a little too high

will start to kiss your inner thigh and pull down your underwear and slowly make his way up to your pussy

you’re clearly trying to shove him off (not hard enough) because you keep closing your legs and trying to push him with your foot

will spread your legs and keep his hands there to he can start eating you out

this is his apology. this his how oikawa tooru says im sorry without saying it. soft pleasuring, orgasmic sex.

his fingers are so deep in your pussy while he’s sucking on your clit. he doesn’t look at you when you cum because he feels like he doesn’t deserve to see it.

you’re begging him to look at you after he’s done fingering you so you can kiss him with your taste this lingering oh his tongue

fucks you in a matting press because when it’s slow and he’s thrusting it all in.... i don’t think he’s seen you twitch and drool so much

tooru is there to pleasure you and when he sees you cry out of the pleasure you know he’ll be forgiven when it’s over

aftercare is even better

he doesn’t make you do anything

he presses you, gives you kisses and over all will apologize verbally when you’re slowly falling asleep in his arms

[fandomdancer]

The Dance

In the year 2169, you are a senior in high school. You've been best friends with the same two young men since grade school. One of them is your date to the senior dance. The other is the class loner: Eobard Thawne. When your date make a suddenly unexpected move, you find yourself feeling like the perfect night is ruined. But then Eobard shows up...

Word Count: 3,754 words

Rating: T, but may be M

Pairings: OC/Reader, Eobard/Reader

A/N: First attempt at a reader-insert fic. Special thanks to @darlingpetao3 @yetanotherwells @wellsaddict and @hawk-lee for listening to me freak out about this, inspiring me, and giving me the courage to actually post it. I hope it's interesting and fun for you to read.

This is Mattobard's version of Thawne, since it takes place during his teenage years.

This fic was inspired by this song (which is the featured waltz in the story). 'Pride and Penance', from World of Warcraft: Shadowlands.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZtBflZHIcQ

_________________________________________________________

The moment you step into the darkened dance hall, you feel as though you have been transported back in time. In fact, you can’t help but wonder if the organizers of this year’s spring formal are utilizing some of Rip Hunter’s famous Time Couriers to literally open a door to the past. Everything around is, at minimum, dated back a hundred years ago, from the DJ setting up digital playlists to the black-light-illuminated chairs seated around tables littered with drinks, plates of food, and what looks like games. The music right now is from the early 2000s, but you expect the songs to range through decades, possibly even centuries over the course of the night. Multicolored lights hang from the ceiling, giving the place an overall ‘club’ look, accentuated by the powerful underlighting at the bar.

The temperature increases as you enter on your date’s arm, the exertion from the dancing and milling bodies heating up the air in the room. The dance started only thirty minutes ago, but the excitement in the room is palpable, and kids are wasting no time yelling ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ as they toss back nonalcoholic drinks. One table is already full of kids engaged in what looks like an intense card game with multicolored discs sprayed across the table in front of them.

Catching the fever of the room, you cast a huge grin up at your date, a handsome young man you’ve known since grade school. The two of you are dressed perhaps a little fancy for the event, with him in a fine, high-collared suit befitting a 20th century aristocrat and you in a deep red 1940s princess ballgown. Overdressing is okay: the two of you were expecting a slightly more ‘ballroom’ shindig, not this ‘21st century club’ event, and upon looking around you can see that other members of your class had similar ideas, wearing everything from 1800s Victorian gowns to military uniforms.

“They did a good job,” your date says. “Though one would think they could have come up with a more original theme name than ‘Blast to the Past’.”

“Don’t cheesy titles comprise part of the charm of last century?” you ask as the two of you move towards the obligatory picture arena. “Wasn’t stating the obvious considered not only funny, but…what was the word…a meemee?”

“Meme. One word, one syllable. And yes. Memes were a rather popular form of communication in the early 21st century, though I guess they started well before that.” Your date eyes the line and the picture-taking arena before them. “Is that….a phone booth?”

You are both intrigued as you watch a couple go into the booth, pulling a curtain shut and separating them from the outside world. Their feet are obvious as they scrabble into various positions, each one punctuated by a bright flash ands lots of giggling. The couple emerges, looking flushed and full of smiles, and watch as two thin strips of plastic emerged from the wall of the booth. The two grab the plastic strips and look at them, giggling as they walk away.

“It’s a photo booth.”

The voice right beside you and your date startles you, and you quickly look over to see one of the chaperones for the event, Ms. Steinway, a few feet away. The young teacher looks stunning in a green floor-length gown, her blonde hair floating ethereally around her shoulders. She gestures. “You go in, and you have five pictures taken of you in quick succession. There’s usually only three to four seconds between each photo so people often planned ahead what they would do ahead of time. You can make faces, or be serious…whatever you would like!”

“Thank you, Ms. Steinway,” you say before looking back to your date. “Well. I guess we have about a minute to come up with five different poses.”

“Why don’t we improvise? We’re both good thinkers on our feet.”

The tension and pressure of racing to beat a timed photo session is appealing to you, probably a side effect of all the time you've been spending lately with your other friend, Eobard Thawne. He has a strong taste for competition and it’s been rubbing off on you in the years you’ve known him.

The sudden thought of Thawne makes you skim the room, wondering if the class loner has actually shown up to tonight’s dance. You’re pretty sure he’s not here; this isn’t his type of thing at all. It’s certainly why you didn’t ask him to be your date. It’s also the only reason why you didn’t ask him to be your date. Eobard Thawne’s proud, handsome figure and strikingly keen intellect has drawn many a girl’s attention over the years, including yours, and you’ve made a concentrated effort to ignore it. But lately, you’ve noticed that he seems to be hovering near you much more often. And he got into a fistfight with your date a few weeks ago…you never did quite figure out what had caused that argument…

Seeing him here tonight would definitely open a lot of doors, however. Perhaps you would be brave enough to ask him for a single dance. He can be a truly arrogant ass but he has always been at least civil to you…probably because the two of you have also known each other since grade school.

Your date pushes you forward and you realize that, as usual, thoughts of Eobard have distracted you for several seconds. It is your turn in the photo booth.

The booth is small and simple, with a little touch screen that simply says ‘go’. A quick glance over the screen shows that presets are in place, with no way to change them. It is a little aggravating to not be able to customize the photos but you suppose that’s to get the line of kids moving quickly. With a quick glance at your date, the two of you reach out and tap the ‘go’ button together.

The very first thing he does is kiss you. It’s so fast and so intense that you don’t even have time to react. Suddenly his mouth is open and wet and moving on yours and his hand is in your carefully-crafted hairstyle and you are shocked beyond words because of all the poses you had considered in this run of pictures, your longtime friend kissing you was not one of them. You’ve suspected he felt this way about you and there was no doubt in your mind that he would be an excellent romantic partner, but you hadn’t really…thought about him like that. In fact, the only person you really thought about like that was…Eobard.

He finally pulls back and looks quickly at the camera, grinning widely. Your brain is fuzzed and rolling with several unfinished sentences and questions, but some little part of you keeps control and turns to smile bright and beautiful at the screen. The two of you make silly faces next, and as you are setting up for what you think is the next picture, the screen goes dark. You realize in shock that he used three of the five pictures to kiss you. Feeling frustrated and cheated, you get out of the booth, pasting a smile on your face so as not to appear angry to the line of kids waiting outside. You’ll have plenty of time to discuss his choices later.

The pictures print out and they’re definitely difficult to look at. The first one shows your obvious surprise, but the second two are worse, showcasing your desperate attempt to keep control of what is happening by grabbing at his face and responding to his kiss. It was not your best decision, but you feel like it was your only choice at the moment – and that realization makes you furious.

The two of you head to an unoccupied table, and the moment you set down the photos you whirl on your date, your insides twisted in knots and your throat almost sealed shut from the force of your anger. “What the hell?”

“What?”

It’s even hotter in this room with your anger charging you up. You are pretty sure your face is the color of your dress. “You kissed me.”

He smiles. “Of course I did. What did you think we were going to do in there?”

Your mouth drops open. “Make faces and smile! When did kissing appear on the list of things to do tonight?”

His brow furrows. “When you agreed to be my date. Come now, you can’t possibly miss all the signs I’ve given you. You know me better than that.”

His self-entitled arrogance sets your teeth on edge and you clutch the table so hard you’re amazed it doesn’t bend. “I’ve known you for almost all of my life and you have never been so rude as to just kiss someone without making sure it’s all right with them! You wait for that kind of invitation! You don’t blindside her during a timed picture taking session!”

“Spontaneity has never been your thing, and I respect that,” he begins to say.

You cut him off. “Clearly not or these wouldn’t exist!” You wave the pictures at him before slamming them down onto the table. You don’t know what you’re angrier about now; being forced into this situation before you felt ready, his seeming blindness to how the whole situation played out, or the fact that you feel like what should have been a beautiful moment is ruined and you are never going to get it back.

A waltz begins to play, the very song the two of you were hoping would be the focus of the evening, and he reaches a hand out to you. “You’re right. I made a terrible mistake. I thought it would be fun and I assumed you would be all right with it. I am sorry. I truly am. We will go have the pictures retaken. But will you dance with me? This sounds like a beautiful waltz and I don’t want to have ruined the night by making a terrible decision right at the beginning.”

He sounds sincere but you don’t answer him at first. Your mind is still awash with anger and betrayal and a sudden desire to be anywhere but in this room right now. You don’t want to just forgive him for doing this to you. But you also don’t want the night to be ruined, and right now the song playing sounds like it could be a wonderful dance and you aren’t sure how many more will be played with the selection of music likely being offered. Reluctantly, you slip your hand into his.

“We aren’t done with this conversation,” you state firmly.

“Of course not.” He twirls you gently. “But this song fits you and I want to see you dancing to it.”

You don’t know the name of the song, but it has a haunting melody to it, almost ghostlike with sliding violins. Waltzes always have a kind of built-in grace to them, a slippery seduction meant to make it easy to move to. But this piece has an additionally dramatic vocalist that elevates the rhythm to something royal and aristocratic. You can almost imagine the two of you (and the couples that are joining you on the floor) dancing in the hall of an ancient, grand mansion while a dark storm swirls outside the floor-to-ceiling windows and the dry fingers of tree branches curl menacingly in shadows on the floor, trapping the dancers’ feet in their grip.

“Pardon me.”

The familiar voice snaps you out of the daydream you are drifting into, and you rock slowly back and forth in your date’s arms as you realize Eobard is standing in front of you two. Your breath catches and your heart rate picks up instantly as you look at him. He looks as though he has stepped straight out of your daydream: a young lord trapped in a dying manor, cloaked in high-collared black and red with the light shimmering blindingly on his short blond hair. Even more shocking is the dramatic flair he has added to the outfit: a full-length black cape fastened at his neck with a ruby. He is too beautiful to touch and yet your hands…and other, sweeter, deeper parts of you…ache as you stare at him.

His eyes sweep over you and you think you see his jaw clench slightly before he speaks again. “May I cut in?”

“You’re in our way, Bardo,” your date growls, all softness and politeness gone from his voice.

“I wasn’t addressing you,” Eobard responds to him but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. Your throat is growing dry from the simple intensity of his gaze. “I was addressing your partner." He nods to you. "May I cut in?”

You finally register what he is asking, and the thrill that races through you makes you shiver. You had thought you might have the courage to ask him to dance if you had seen him here, but him asking you is completely unexpected. Saying no to him might prevent him from asking again, but saying yes would probably send the wrong message to your date.

Then again, your date certainly sent you the wrong message when he forced you to kiss him in the photo booth.

It’s a very simple question with a very simple answer.

“I would be honored,” you reply, trying to sound as cool and proper as possible. As you pull away from your date, you feel his hands clench briefly on you. You quickly look up at him, seeing the betrayal in his eyes. At first you feel smug, but then you remind yourself that he did apologize. You give him your best comforting smile. “We’ll continue this later,” you say to him, making his expression soften just a little. But the look he gives Eobard is poisonous.

Eobard’s expression doesn’t change. Instead, he unfastens the cape from around his neck and whips it dramatically off, draping it unceremoniously on your date’s still-outstretched arms. “Would you be so kind as to place this on a nearby chair?”

Redness floods your date’s face, and you start to open your mouth to scold Eobard for his rudeness, but his hands grip you firmly and he spins you away into the dancing crowd before you can say a word. Your feet scrabble as you try to keep up, and you have a feeling he’s trying to get you as far away from your date as fast as possible. Focusing on your movements, you catch his rhythm and begin to move in time with him, gaining control over yourself while still permitting him to lead. You’re angry enough now that you’re tempted to just walk out the door after this dance. When did your two best friends turn into such boys? They’re acting like you’re a prize in a competition and while that might be flattering, it’s making you feel a bit like an object and not like the lady you want to be tonight.

“You dance well,” Eobard compliments.

You roll your eyes. “You dragged me out here and I just got my balance back. Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he answers. “I mean what I say. I saw you trying to dance with your date over there. He was trying. You were succeeding.”

You snort and sigh. “I wish the two of you would tell me why you both seem to have lost your minds lately.”

Eobard tilts his head. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Your heart pounds and you know what you hope the answer is, but coming right out and saying it feels like a such a terrible risk. Eobard’s emotional difficulties make him dangerous sometimes, the wrong word or look pushing him away for days at a time. You are not going to ruin this night, this dance, this moment that has been playing in your dreams.

“Obviously not, or I wouldn’t have brought it up,” you say, trying to put an innocent look on your face. You aren’t sure if it works or not, but the hard look in Eobard’s eyes softens somewhat, and he guides you around the floor. Looking up at him, you surrender your mind to the daydream, milking this moment for all it is worth. The seductive waltz paints the image of a great hall, decadent in its decay, the memory of opulence just as romantic as the opulence itself. And Eobard, cold and proud and throat-achingly beautiful, spins you around it, commanding your body with his touch, and commanding your mind with his eyes.

“Your friend and I,” he says in a low voice, “are both seeking your approval.”

Dear God, he actually said it. You’re almost dizzy with excitement as you frantically think of how to navigate the next few sentences. Honesty is going to be key. “You have a funny way of showing it. First that fistfight a few weeks ago and now tonight he just kisses me out of the blue and then you drag me off like I belong to you or something…”

“He did what?” Eobard stops the two of you cold, and you blink, looking up at his grey eyes, watching in surprise as they turn stormy and dark. His pale face begins to flush as he gazes down at you. You can’t tell if what you’re seeing is anger or not, but as his eyebrows draw together you feel your insides flutter. It’s more than just anger. It’s jealousy.

Eobard is jealous.

The realization makes your throat close and you swallow several times as adrenaline floods your veins. The possibilities open up in your mind, and you suddenly realize that while both men are, in fact, treating you like a prize, you are still the one in control.

“He kissed me for our photo,” you say carefully, letting the frustration and hurt show on your face. “I didn’t know he was going to.”

Eobard looks at you, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and his face continuing to grow red. His hands tighten on your waist and hand, and a strange excitement blooms in your chest. Eobard Thawne, so aloof and elitist, suffering from the simple emotion of jealousy. And jealousy related to you, because he’s seeking your approval. Despite the heat of the moment, you find yourself fighting a smile.

“Did you enjoy it?” he asks tightly.

You know the truth and you know what saying it will mean. But right now, you are unable to lie to him, captivated by the thrill of his reaction and the intoxicating crescendo building around you.

“No.”

Eobard’s chin lifts and a smug satisfaction fills his eyes as the music crescendos loudly. With a climactic crash of drums, he decisively pushes you out into a firm spin, and then brings you back in, his hand slipping to the small of your back and holding you flush against his body. And for one fiery, fierce moment, you realize that you can feel him, dear God, all of him, pressed possessively against you, and a weakness makes your knees wobble and your mouth go dry as you stare into his eyes, only inches away, and realize what he is silently saying to you.

Then the two of you are moving again as he takes everything up another notch, whirling you both within the crowd as though you have all the space in the world. The music pounds with your steps, pulsing inside of you, the melody a full-throated cry from the whole orchestra, igniting adrenaline and fire within you. Your mouth falls open to gasp for air as your eyes drift closed. You don’t need to see, only to feel the clutch of his hands and the heat of his body and the light pressure on your waist as he leads you.

And then, in one powerful beat, the music stops. Eobard pushes you backwards into a dramatic dip, holding you up while your hands claw at him. You can’t see the ecstasy on your face but a few gasps from the people around you suggest that the two of you may be in a very compromising position. You don’t care. Your body is shaking and tingling. You feel sweat dampening your skin, and the heat…you’re drowning in it. But you don’t want to move. You don’t want it to be over. Most of all, you don’t want his hands leaving you. Ever.

Your breath comes in heavy gasps as he draws you up to your feet. He steadies you, and your eyes finally drift open. The sight before you makes you shiver again. Eobard is breathing just as hard as you are, and has the same slightly dazed expression on his face that you are feeling. You vaguely realize that while you were trying to keep your balance you gripped his hair and shirt because both of them are bunched and mussed. But neither of you can look away from the other for several seconds.

Finally, he is the first one to move. He gently straightens his shirt and runs a hand through his hair. He brings his heels together and reaches for your hand. He bows, lifting your hand to his lips and placing a chaste kiss on the back of it.

“Thank you,” he says, “for the lovely dance. If you’ll excuse me, I believe I need some air.”

You nod slowly. “I…think I do too.”

Something sparks in his eyes, and he offers you his arm. You consider taking it, but the sensation that sweeps through you as you realize what the implications are stop you. You are awash in powerful emotions now, enough to know that if you go with him, you’re going to do something you want…

….oh do you want….

….but on impulse, caught up in the moment.

You know you need to gather yourself. The night has only just begun.

“I will see you back in here,” you reply, offering a polite curtsey. It isn’t a blatant rejection, just more of a ‘not now’. Eobard seems to understand and his withdraws his hand before turning and striding for the door.

You head for a different exit, catching a glimpse of your date just as you leave the room. His face is a thunderstorm, and you feel a slight chill that cuts through the hazy fog of your mind.

The night has only just begun, and you have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.

[impalas-r-important]

Love of my Life - (10) Taken

Summary: Y/N and the Winchesters have been hunting non-stop amid the beginnings of the apocalypse. Y/N is forced to bring out her dark side

Warnings: Show level violence.

A/N: I've been having so much fun with this series and I love hearing all your feedback. Feel free to leave your thoughts on the series and let me know if you'd like a tag. Thank you all!

Series Masterlist

After a decent amount of time spent resting, Sam had grown stir crazy and found a case not too far from Sioux Falls in a small town called Madison.

Some real estate buff and his family were the next unsuspecting targets of two hungry ghouls, but you and the Winchesters had taken the monsters taken care of before anyone was killed. It was fairly straightforward and simple as far as cases go, aside from one minor slash in your leg. It was late by the time you were finished disposing of the bodies, and you opted for a crappy motel rather than driving back to Bobby’s place. Dean was stitching you up while Sam went to go get food for everyone.

“Do you ever think about getting out of the life?” Dean asked out of the blue. Maybe he was just trying to get your attention off of the needle going in and out of your leg.

“I never used to, but lately it’s been a different story.” You took a sip of Dean’s cheap beer that was sitting next to you and made a disgusted face before putting it back down.

“What changed?” Dean glanced at you quickly, trying to get a read on your emotions, then continued his stitching.

You had a hard time opening up to people, but you wanted to tell Dean how you felt about him. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you debated whether or not to be honest about your feelings. “Well,” you began, “I always thought that hunting was my only option. I was a loner and I figured that if I was going to die, I would die fighting for the good cause or whatever.” You looked down at Dean, so carefully taking care of you. His eyebrows were furrowed as he intently waited for you to continue. You loved how interested he was in everything you said, no matter how silly or mundane. “But then I met this guy who makes me feel like my life is actually one worth living; like maybe the future doesn’t hold darkness and death after all.” Dean tried to hide his smile as he finished up his last few sutures. “I’ve never felt like I was worth much, but he makes me feel like I’m more than just a girl who can throw knives and punches… and I think that I’m falling for him pretty fast.” Dean placed a bandage over your calf and set his needle down. “Maybe you know him? His name is Sam Winchester.” Dean shot you a confused look, making you lose your composure and bite your lip, repressing a cheeky smile. “It’s just too easy to tease you.”

Dean let out a chuckle and stood up, wiping his hands off on a towel. His tongue darted in and out of his lips, leading into a perfect smile as he dove on top of you and crashed his lips onto yours, knocking you backwards on the bed. You slid you hand behind his neck and deepened the kiss.

The door handle began to wiggle, signaling Sam coming back with the food. “That kid has the worst timing. I swear!” Dean grumbled and pushed himself off the bed, marching over to the door and holding it open with an unmistakable annoyance in his eyes as Sam walked in, juggling the food in his arms. Sam, clearly clueless about what he had interrupted, returned Dean’s annoyed gaze.

“What’s your problem?” He shoved a bag of food into Dean’s arms.

Sam had fallen asleep during a re-run of Jeopardy when Dean touched your hand, silently signaling for you to follow him outside to the small balcony. You happily obliged. Once the door was shut, Dean pulled you in close, kissing you with just as much passion as he had before you were interrupted.

“You know what I want?” Dean asked.

“Some nice scotch and an autographed Zeppelin album?”

The lines by his eyes crinkled as he smiled and shook his head. “No, well, yes, but no. I asked you earlier if you ever wanted to get out of hunting.”

You nodded in remembrance.

“I want out, too. I want a boring life, and a farmhouse, with kids and a dog and a fence. The whole thing. I want to have summer barbeques with Sam and his family, and bonfires where we roast s’mores. I want it with you.”

“I’ve never had a s’more.” You admitted, smiling ear to ear at Dean’s confession.

“Me either.” Dean shrugged; his smile just as wide as yours.

That life sounded perfect. “What happened to Dean Winchester the womanizer that everyone warned me about?”

“He’s whipped.” You could see your future in those deep green eyes as he held you close.

“There has to be a porch swing.” You added. “I’ve always wanted a big comfy porch swing.”

“You got it.” Dean slipped his arms around your waist from behind and leaned down to rest his head on top of yours, making the height difference between you two almost comical. Looking out at the night sky, you thought about living a peaceful life in a small town like this one, sitting next to Dean on the front porch in the summer evenings while your kids played in the front yard. These were never things you would have thought of before meeting this man.

“You wanna go make out in your car?” You not so subtly hinted. Before you knew it, Dean was picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you back into the room and towards the door. You did your best to mute your giggles and squeals so you wouldn’t wake up Sam.

It had been weeks full of hunting, with the last case being a weird one. You'd found a town that had a working wishing well, powered by a coin that used the power of the goddess Tiamat. There was a life-sized and talking teddy bear, someone won the lottery, a kid had super strength, and the wormy guy had a hot girlfriend. It was pretty far up on the list of odd things you'd encountered.

The post-case morning routine was in full swing with the sunlight streaming through the window, prying your eyes open to face a new day. Dean was lying next to you on his stomach with drool slowly dribbling from the corner of his gaped open mouth. You loved this soft side of the ever-stone-cold hunter. Steam was trickling from under the bathroom door, signaling that Sam was almost done getting ready, so you slid out from under the covers and changed before he reentered the room.

"Morning." Sam greeted, toweling off his wet hair. "You wanna go grab breakfast, or should I?"

"You can go but I'll walk out with you and try to convince the clerk to give us a late checkout. I don't think we're making it out of here on time." You nodded your head towards Dean.

"There's a shocker." Sam grabbed the car keys from Dean's nightstand and put his arm around your shoulders, leading you out the door.

Sam took off and you managed to flirt your way into two extra hours before checkout. You exited the lobby and made your way to the outdoor staircase that led to your room. You lifted your foot to take the first step, then everything went black.

Dean’s POV

I spit out the toothpaste from my mouth when Sam came back in the room with a bag of crappy fast-food breakfast. My favorite.

"Where's Y/N?" I asked as I rifled through the brown bag, pulling out a hash brown. Sam shot me a confused look.

"She's not here?" I shook my head; a pit of concern began to grow in my stomach. "She walked out with me to ask for a late checkout. She was in the lobby when I left."

"I'll go check there. You look around for her."

"Dean, I'm sure she's fine. Maybe she's just stretching her legs." Sam tried his best to relieve my obvious state of stress.

"The clerk was useless. All he said was that she was in there for two seconds and then left." I looked to Sam, hoping he had found a sign of her.

"I got nothing." Sam held his hands up. "Did you call her?"

I pulled out my phone, dialing her number from memory then hitting the call button. Sam sharply turned his head towards the stairs and took off in a jog. He leaned over to look underneath the steps and pulled out Y/N's ringing phone. We exchanged knowing looks and I began to feel queasy.

I slammed the door to our room and began to shove my things into a duffel bag. "Someone took her." The nausea I was feeling was not-so-slowly turning to rage.

"We don't know that. Don't freak out just yet."

Like clockwork, my phone went off signaling an incoming text. "It's a link from an unknown number." Sam frowned and I quickly clicked on it. A web page opened up with a live video feed showing Y/N, unconscious and tied to a chair with dried blood painted down her face from her hairline.

"Son of a bitch!” I grabbed the lamp from the nightstand next to me and threw it across the room. "Someone’s gonna die!”

Your POV

You were sure you’d been hit by a train. Your head was pounding, and it hurt to even open your eyes. As your vision unblurred, you became more aware of your situation. First, you saw your feet tied to the legs of a wooden chair, then realized that your arms were bound behind the back of it. You heard arguing voices in the background and did your best to act like you were still unconscious as you assessed your surroundings and the sticky situation you had found yourself in. You were in a damp abandoned warehouse with old pallets stacked in high piles around you and a webcam sitting in the distance pointed in your direction. Your pocketknife had been taken from you and was sitting on a table across the room next to the two arguing captors. You didn’t recognize the two large men who had abducted you, but it was easy to make enemies in your line of work. There was almost a constant target on your back. Keeping your eyes closed and head hung low, you quickly thought about how you would get yourself out of this mess.

You began to stir, letting your kidnappers know you were awake. They finished their conversation when they heard you.

“Well, well, well. Look who decided to join the party.” The bigger one greeted you.

“I’ve never been much of a party animal. Why don’t you just let me go and find someone more fun?” You snarked.

“Oh, we’re going to have plenty of fun. Don’t you worry.” As he turned his back to you, he pulled a gun from its holster on his belt and waved it in the air as he spoke, clearly trying to scare you. “See, I’ve had eyes on Dean Winchester for years. Just waiting for him to find a pretty little girlfriend to settle down with.”

You glared at him, remaining silent. You could feel the rope that was tied around your hands loosen as you discreetly wiggled your hands around. Lucky for you, your thumbs were double jointed enough that you could pop them in out of place. It hurt like hell but proved convenient when you found yourself being held hostage, which was far more than the average person ever should be. You continued listening to the monologue as you worked your hands free. You had no idea what you’d do next, but you’d figure it out. Right?

“Years ago, he took something from me – my wife. And now, I’m going to make him feel that same pain. Smile at the camera!” He pointed to the webcam sitting a few feet in front of you as he walked over and spoke into it. “Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

Sam and Dean's POV

The boys were in the car, speeding around town, desperately searching for where you were being held. Sam was looking up old buildings and giving Dean directions as he pushed the Impala to its limits. Dean’s phone was propped up on the dashboard with the live feed still streaming.

“Hope you’re watching, Deano! She’s gonna die a bloody, slow death.”

“Son of a bitch! I swear if you hurt her!” Dean screamed at the screen.

“Who even is that Dean?” Sam asked, looking for any kind of clues that would give away a location.

“I don’t know! I don’t recognize him at all but apparently I made quite the impression on him!”

Your POV

The big guy finished his address to Dean and turned to face you, with teeth and claws bared. Okay, well at least you knew he was a werewolf. Only problem was you didn’t have any silver bullets. You freed your hands completely but held them behind your back as you looked around, planning your next step and replaying it in your head a few times to go over the possible outcomes. You had to move fast because the wolf was walking straight for you.

Oh well, here goes nothing.

Keeping the rope your hands were bound with looped into the back of your belt, you tucked your head in and somersaulted forward, whipping your legs up and over your head hard to smash the wooden chair against the ground, freeing your feet from their binds. One of the broken chair legs had come to a sharp point and you immediately threw it at the onrushing werewolf, hitting him in the thigh. It slowed him down enough that you could duck behind one of the large pallets, narrowly avoiding a bullet being shot at you from the second, smaller wolf. The breaker panel was close by and you ran to it, pulling the main power lever down which turned off all the lights except a dim red emergency light. Game on.

There was an upper level which was essentially a deck around the walls of the square building. You snuck your way to the edge of the room, climbed on a pile of crates, then jumped up and grabbed the railing, pulling yourself to the upper level to get a better idea of the layout of the room below. You stumbled across a pile of rebar, taking the sharpest one to use as protection.

“What are you going to do? Call your boyfriend? Come out and play!” One of the men shouted. “I’m not scared of Dean Winchester or his gumpy brother!”

“Oh, you should be! But lucky for you, they’re not here right now.” You laughed. “See, this isn’t my first rodeo,” you began as you stalked the two wolves from up above, “I’ve been held hostage more times than I can count, and you all make the same stupid mistake. You assume that I’m just some damsel in distress, waiting for a big hero to come save me. But I got news for you, buddy. I’m the one you should be scared of.” You trailed the smaller of the two and made your move as he crouched down behind a large crate. Lowering yourself down from the upper deck, you set the rebar down and silently pulled the rope from the back of your belt, wrapping it around his neck and pulling so hard that he couldn’t make a sound. You released him once you were sure he was passed out, then hog tied him and left him for later, moving onto your next target.

“Then stop hiding and let’s do this!” The anger in your next victim’s voice was intertwined with fear. You had him just where you wanted him, physically and mentally, and took your post where you had a perfect visual of the room.

“See your hand shaking?” You yelled and he glanced down at the trembling gun in his hands. “Cortisol. It floods the body when you’re stressed. Makes your muscles tighter, reactions quicker. But put those two things together, and it makes you sloppy. Unless you learn to love it. Then it becomes a drug that you thrive on. That’s when you become deadly.” As unhealthy as it was, you soaked up the feeling of being the apex predator. You simultaneously hated and loved this side of yourself.

You’d spent years doing combat in the dark, learning to use every sense to take in your surroundings and focus on your target, making you the ultimate threat. You threw a bag full of old newspapers across the room, and he fired a desperate shot at the clatter, moving slowly towards the commotion. Following close, but soundlessly behind him, you held your weapon at the ready. He slowed to look around the corner, only to find the newspapers you had thrown strewn across the floor.

“Boo.” Your voice was eerily calm. He whipped around and you timed your swing perfectly and rammed the sharp rebar through his throat. He fell to his knees, gasping for air and you took the gun from his hand, firing a quick shot between his eyes. The shocked look was still plastered on his face as he fell to the ground, and you let out a huff of relief before moving back to the first wolf you had tied up, making sure he met the same fate as his friend. You didn’t have silver bullets, but this worked out okay.

You tucked the gun into your pants as you walked over to the webcam. “Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.”

Sam and Dean's POV

“Holy crap, Dean, she broke free.” Sam leaned in and intently watched as you expertly broke the chair and turned off the lights. Dean did his best to watch as he drove.

“What’s happening?!” Dean demanded an update.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t see super well, the lights got turned off.” Sam pulled the screen closer to his face and squinted. “She’s got a piece of rebar I think…”

Dean nodded in approval of your choice of weapon. Sam gave the occasional update when he could make out what was happening.

“She strangled one of them and hog tied him.” Sam raised his eyebrows.

Both boys listened intently as you spoke with clarity, messing with the last wolf’s head as you stalked behind him then stabbed him in the throat.

“Hey Sam and Dean, I really hope you’re watching this. I’m at some old abandoned supply warehouse. I can hear a train in the background if that helps you find me at all.” The brothers heard your message and Sam quickly found your location. Dean turned the car around and sped off towards you.

The boys sat in silence, trying to process what just happened. Dean’s jaw had been clenched since the moment he realized you had been taken and wouldn’t relax until he was holding you safe in his arms. He felt guilty that you had been taken because of him, but at the same time, he felt so proud that you had taken control of the situation with such ease that it was almost scary. No, it was definitely scary. This wasn’t a side of you that he had seen before. He knew he should be concerned, but he loved it.

Sam spoke first. “So… Y/N is terrifying.”

Dean scoffed in agreement. “That’s an understatement.”

Your POV

You had dragged the bodies of the two wolves behind the warehouse where a construction site was filling in a large hole with concrete. You tossed them in, turned on the mixer, and covered them up enough that they would never be found. It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way back to the front of the warehouse that the familiar sound of the Impala speeding closer rang in your ears. Dean drifted around the corner and drove straight to you. He was out of the car before it could even roll to a stop, and you met him halfway as he pulled you into a massive hug.

“Y/N, I’m…” Dean began before you could cut him off.

“Stop. If the next words out of your mouth are anything to do with apologizing or blaming yourself then I don’t want to hear them.” You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“This was my fault.”

“Dean, this is not the first time I’ve been kidnapped by a monster out for revenge, and it won’t be the last. You didn’t send that wolf after me so absolutely none of the blame is on you. Not to mention, I’m a damn good hunter and I know how to take care of myself. Aside from this,” you touched your fingers to the wound on your head where you had been knocked out this morning, “I don’t even have a scratch on me.”

Dean sighed and squeezed you tighter. You’d never had someone there to comfort you after being kidnapped and it felt nice to know that you’d be missed if something happened to you.

“Y/N I’m in love with you.” Dean’s words took you by surprise. “Have been since the day that we met, and I should have told you before now.” You began to respond, but he held up his hand, stopping you. “I gotta say this.” He took a deep breath and continued. “I love that you are so kind and genuine with every person you meet, even if it’s some stranger on the street. I love that you can eat enough chocolate to kill a horse, and I love that aren’t ashamed of that. I love your taste in music. I love that you are the most badass person I’ve ever met. I’m pretty sure you’re some kind of international hitman or something after what I saw today. But more than anything, I love that you make my life one worth living.”

“Are you just saying all this because you’re scared of me now?” You joked. Dean smiled softly as he shook his head. “I love you too, Dean Winchester. I have from the start.”

“Let’s get you back to the motel and make sure you’re okay.” Dean examined the gash just above your hairline where you’d been struck with a tire-iron this morning. “I’m glad you’re safe. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.” He kissed you hard, not caring that you were covered in blood splatter.

Sam gently slapped you on the back, clearly proud of you. “Y/N, that was freakin’ amazing. I felt like I was watching an action movie or something. That whole spiel about cortisol was so kick ass!” Sam and Dean both put their arms protectively around your shoulders and led you back to the car. “I’ve never seen anyone take control like that. They were terrified of you. I was terrified of you!” Sam continued to rave as you and Dean exchanged grateful smiles that the three of you had a happy reunion.

Chapter 11

Tags:

@panicking-outside-the-disco

@vicmc624

@akshi8278

[wtffundiefamilies]

This is from 2013, but holy hell I hope Anna finds it.  Entirety of the post beneath the cut; it’s both long and not something people should read with no warning.  But I wanted to copypaste in case the link goes down one day.  It’s insane to me that these “little details” and “clues” are obvious and screaming red flags to people raised in a normal world.  (And no, looking at legal porn is not a “red flag” that someone is a child molester.  But, like...again, given the circumstances I’m not sure what we’d expect; we all saw what Jessa said.)  It’s part one of a series, and it’s amazing just how much this dude sounds like Josh.  And how much their “courtship” sounds like Josh and Anna’s.

Part of my mission, my purpose in life, is to educate others about child predators.  I’m not here to stir up some kind of crazy hype, but to present the facts and to give you a bit of insight as to what happened in my own life.  How was I so blinded to the fact that for forty years I was living with a practicing pedophile?  How did I not see the signs?  How did I not pick up on something being very wrong with the man I married?  

The truth is that I sensed something was wrong even before we got married, but I didn’t listen to my inner being.  I didn’t pay attention to those nudgings that something was wrong.  Why?  Because as a Christian it had been taught to me from little up that people who went to church were good, honest, moral people.  I was taught to trust people who said they believed in God and followed His teachings.  And, I did just that.  I was, unfortunately, one of the most trusting women who ever walked the face of the earth!

Pay attention to this, please!  Just because a person tells you that they walk by the teachings of God does not mean it’s true.  In fact, the word of God warns us against “wolves in sheep’s clothing”, and I learned first-hand just what that meant.  But, it would be years before my eyes were totally opened to this fact. As a bit of background information, I came from a broken home.  My parents divorced when I was fourteen, a sister of mine died when she was thirteen, my mother was an alcoholic, and my father was by today’s terms a “dead beat dad.”  Needless to say, I longed for a different life, and I prayed constantly that God would send a good, righteous, faithful Christian into my life so that I could build a home on godly principles and a firm foundation.

I worked hard all through high school so that I could go to college.  But, I didn’t want to go to just any college.  It had to be a Christian college because I sincerely believed that was the only place I would ever meet a Christian man to marry.  Because I worked so hard all through high school, I earned a four-year scholarship to a four-year state school.  BUT, you guessed it!  The idea of finding and marrying a Christian man was so ingrained in my heart and mind by now that I passed up the scholarship and instead went to a very small, two-year Christian College.  Little did I know that this one decision would lead to so much heartache for me and for those who are most special in my life — my children.  While it’s true that we can’t see around every bend in the road, there are signs and signals along the way.  I didn’t pay attention to anyone who tried to talk to me.  One thing was on my mind — finding a Christian mate!

Every person wants to feel special, and longs to be told that they stand out among all of the rest.  During the summer between my first and second year of college I met a young man who was articulate, bright, funny, witty, and who also told me that I stood out.  He was spending the summer at college and so was I.  A friendship developed, and even though I was engaged to marry someone else, this young man worked very hard every day to convince me that I was with the wrong person.  He pointed out all of the flaws of the man whose ring I was wearing until he finally convinced me to break off the engagement.  That’s a story in and of itself — maybe I’ll share that with you another day.

What was a bit strange to me was that the man I would soon marry had a quiet control over me like nobody ever had before.  Even though I had low self-esteem I was used to making my own decisions and being very independent.  For the first time in my life I found I was reporting my every move to this quiet, shy young man. He told me I was special.  He said out of all the girls on campus I was the only one that he thought was pretty and was a true Christian.  He told me just what I wanted to hear.  It was the word “Christian” that nailed me!  I knew he was the one I had been praying about since my youth!

One of the greatest stories my now ex-husband loved to tell was how he spotted me from across campus and said to his roommate, “See that girl?  I’m going to marry her.”  This was totally absurd because at the time he said that we had not even met!  He later told me he would hide and watch me — study me — and he knew my schedule, when I was going to eat, when I’d walk back to campus, when I would go to work.  He said, “I knew everything about you.  I knew where you were from morning until night. I knew I would marry you.”

Instead of being freaked out and thinking this guy was some kind of stalker psycho, I was flattered.  “He chose me.”  Out of all of the girls around, he chose me and that again was more evidence of answered prayers.  Deep inside, though, was a gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right.  He didn’t talk much.  And, for a man who said he loved God, he made fun of people in a mean way.  He mocked people’s insecurities.  Yes, you guessed it!  He mocked me on several occasions and I felt like a piece of dirt he had stepped on.  He made fun of the size of my nose.  He made fun of my feet calling them “hammer head toes.”  He made fun of the space I have between my teeth.  I cried myself to sleep many, many nights, but still……..he was a Christian man, and he was so nice when we were together in public.  He opened the car door for me (it was my car, by the way).  He paid the bill when we went out to eat and left a nice tip.  (It was my money that he used.)  He talked me into giving him my car (which I had since I was 16) and I found myself asking him for permission to use my own car.  This was really weird!

Why did I put up with it?  Why does anybody put up with abuse?  Because they’ve been so used to being beaten down that they think this is the norm. Please, please — if you’re in a situation like this run for your life!!!  This is NOT the way a good relationship works!  And, it’s a red flag indicator of many other problems — in my case, it was a big red flag that I was being masterfully manipulated.  Groomed to be the wife of a pedophile who was already deeply involved in porn and child sexual molestation!  

Learn to listen for “clues” that a decision you’re making might not be right.  I had BIG clues that I passed off as “odd”, “not making much sense”, “silly”, or “not that big of a deal.”

Clue 1:  For the last four months we dated, my fiance was in Israel doing overseas study.  We corresponded by letter only.  We were to get married less than one week after he arrived back in the states.  In his letters he would write to tell me how he would hide behind the grasses on the beach and watch girls changing out of their clothes and swimming nude.  He said he’d skip class and stay there all day.  In other words, he was openly telling me he was a “peeping Tom.”  This was a test of how far he could manipulate me and I passed with flying colors! I never questioned him about it.  Oh, I cried lots, but I never questioned him!

Clue 2:  He told me while we were dating that he and one of his cousins spent the summers together and they would steal cartons of cigarettes from stores and sneak out of the house at night and smoke the cigarettes and look at “porn” all night long.  Another test!  I looked at him quietly but never questioned him.  If you want to know the truth — I didn’t even know what porn was!!!!!  I had to ask my college roommates.  Again, I was being tested.  Could he get away with doing things right under my nose?  Sure he could. I’d never question a man of God!

Clue 3:  He was almost 21 and his favorite job was to “babysit all the little kids at church for free because he loved to give them baths and powder their little butts.”  I’m totally sick now as I write these words.  Why in heaven’s name didn’t I run from this man? There were so many clues that something was wrong, and I passed them off as being a little odd.  Nothing more — just a little bit odd. In fact, I actually thought this was kind of nice.  I never saw my father get involved in parenting like that, and I thought, “Wow!  This man will make a wonderful father!”    

Porn.  Lying.  Peeping Tom.  A young man who loves bathing and powdering little kids.  Masterfully manipulating.  Gaining the trust of adults. (Church people loved him babysitting their kids!)

I was another one of his victims.  I was being set up. I was being groomed  I would be the perfect alibi for his continued evil behavior.  He was calculating.  He studied me.  He used me.  He used my faith as a means to get what he wanted.  He knew what he was doing! His actions were no mistake.  He worked very hard to plan every detail.  

Listen up everyone!  Please don’t do as I did!  If your gut is telling you something is wrong, it probably is!!! Pay attention to the little details and the little voice that is whispering something is wrong!!!

This is just the beginning of my story.  I will share more in the weeks to come in hopes that others will not be blinded to the facts as I was.   We must get educated about child sexual molesters so that we can protect life’s most precious blessings — our children!

Why am I sharing the ugly, sad parts of my life?  That’s simple.  Because children are beautiful.  Children are precious.  Children deserve to be protected.  Statistics (according to information found here ) tell us that 1 in every 3 girls and 1 in every 6 boys are molested by the age of 18.  Please help me to stop this!  Let’s get educated!  Let’s do all we can to make it incredibly difficult for the molester!  Let’s be vigilant on behalf of our children — at all times!!!

Every child should have the ability to grow up feeling safe and loved and whole and pure!

It isn’t easy or comfortable for me to write about this, but I must.  I must take this terribleness and do something positive with it.  I must work for the safety of our children. Thanks so much for stopping by and for taking the time to read this.  Thanks even more for making yourself more aware of what is going on right under our noses — in our schools, our churches, our camps, our homes.  Let’s do all we can to work together to make this a safe place for our children!  

Love, Clara

[suituuup]

A Merry Crazy Christmas

for @raincloudtoyoursunshine. Merry Pitchmas!

shoutout to @scylla-ramshorn for the idea :)

*

“Bedtime, guys!” 

“Noooooo,” Logan whines, dramatically face planting on the floor of the playroom. “I wanna stay up ‘til Chwistmas!”

Beca rolls her eyes, having expected as much. “Come on Finn, go brush your teeth.” 

Her son nods without objection, shuffling past his mom to head to the bathroom. 

“Logan Jade,” Beca tries the stern voice and full name, even though she’s not really the authoritarian mom; Chloe is, and their youngest knows that perfectly well, and she likes to take advantage of it every time. “I’ve got Santa’s phone number, remember? He won’t be happy to hear you’re not listening to me.” 

Beca’s lost count of how many times she’s threatened to text Santa over the last few weeks. It proved pretty efficient to counter toddler tantrums. 

Logan grumbles in a very Beca way (it’s sort of scary sometimes, how much she acts like her) but pushes to her feet, dramatically dragging them on her way to the bathroom.

Beca waddles after them, one hand supporting her lower back while the other rubs her large belly. 

She’s three days away from her due date, and she’s miserable. Everything aches, her feet and ankles are swollen, and she needs to pee every five minutes. 

Once both kids have washed up, she reads them a bedtime story of Logan’s choice before tucking them in. 

“M’gonna stay awake,” Logan mumbles as Beca tucks the covers around her, even though her lids are steadily drooping. 

Beca smirks knowingly. “Sure you are.” She bends down to kiss the tip of her nose. “Goodnight, baby.” 

She heads to the master next, closing the door behind her. “Kinda wish we could use the Santa card all year long,” she says as she leans against the surface for a moment. 

Chloe chuckles from her spot on the floor, surrounded by a dozen unwrapped presents. “Let me guess, Logan?”

Beca hums and lowers herself on the bed, eyeing the already wrapped pile. “Our kids are spoiled.” 

Chloe grimaces as she looks around as well. “Yeah, we might have gone overboard.” She glances at Beca. “How you feeling?” 

A groan flits through Beca’s lips. “So done with this pregnancy. That baby better be cute.” 

Chloe laughs, pushing to her feet and making her way over. Christmas is only the day after tomorrow, so present-wrapping thankfully doesn’t have to be finished tonight. She sits down next to her wife, kissing her covered shoulder as her head comes to rest over her belly. “A few more days at most.” 

“I know,” Beca sighs, covering Chloe’s hand with her own. “Strong chances this baby is a Logan 2.0, you know that, right?” 

Chloe’s pregnancy with Finn was difficult, and the doctor advised against her carrying again, so when they decided to have a third baby, it was a no brainer that Beca would be the one to get pregnant. 

Chloe simply smiles. “I love that she’s so much like you. I know she’s going to grow up to be a determined, badass and loyal human being like her mama.” 

Beca rolls her eyes at her wife’s cheesiness. “The teenage years coming before that might be the death of us.” She groans again, tilting her head back. “And I need to pee. Again.” 

Chloe pushes to her feet and gives her a boost up. “Call me if you need help up the toilet seat.” 

Beca’s response is a huff as she slowly waddles to the bathroom. She thankfully manages to do everything on her own, and slides into bed when she makes it back, falling asleep to Chloe wrapping more presents. 

The creaking of the bedroom door as it’s pushed open the next morning draws her out of her slumber. She cracks one eye open to see her two kids tip-toeing inside, hair disheveled from sleep. 

“No baby yet,” their youngest, Logan, whispers to her older brother Finn. “Maybe he’s waiting ‘til Chwistmas morning!” 

“Maybe,” Finn whispers back. “I don’t think the baby knows when Christmas morning is, though.” 

“I tell,” Logan states decidedly, walking over. 

Beca’s lying on her side with a pillow wedged between her thighs and another behind her back, the only position she’s able to fall asleep in. Chloe’s somewhere behind her, but cuddling has been off limits for the past month as Beca gets as hot as a freaking furnace during the night. 

While Finn climbs onto the mattress, Logan comes to stop in front of Beca. 

“Whatcha doing, Munchkin?” Beca mumbles sleepily as Logan presses her ear to her large bump. 

“I listen to the baby,” she murmurs, eyebrows stitched together in focus. “Why’s it late, Mama?” 

“I guess they like where he is now. Warm and comfortable. You two were late, too.” 

“But the baby can’t miss Christmas,” Logan points out with a heavy frown. 

Beca chuckles, reaching out to smooth her hand over her hair. “There’s always next Christmas.” 

“Where’s Mommy?” Finn asks after a beat. 

Because of the mountain of pillows, Beca didn’t notice her wife wasn’t in bed anymore.

“Probably downstairs making breakfast,” she answers. “Wanna go see if she needs help?” 

Both kids nod and Logan follows her brother out and down the stairs while Beca spends a few seconds struggling to sit up. 

“Mama!” Finn’s shout makes her freeze on her way to the bathroom. He appears in the doorway a handful of seconds later, worry flashing in his features. “Mommy fell!” 

Beca blinks. “What do you mean she fell? Where’s she??” 

“Outside, she says she can’t get up!” 

“What?” Ignoring her bladder about to burst, Beca makes her way downstairs as quickly as possible given her state and follows Finn to the open front door. She gasps upon finding Chloe sprawled out on her back in the snow covered driveway, a shovel laying next to her. “Baby, what happened??” 

Chloe groans. “Don’t come out here, it’s slippery.” She huffs. “I think I threw my back out.” 

“Oh no.” Beca grimaces, eyeing the state of the driveway and debating whether it’s safe for her to go help Chloe. With the giant watermelon weighing her down, she’s got more chance of face planting than successfully dragging Chloe up. “Hold on tight, babe, I’ll call one of the neighbors.” 

“It’s okay, Mommy!” Logan calls out sweetly before Beca ushers them inside so they don’t catch a cold as they’re only wearing their pajamas and it’s freaking freezing. 

She grabs her phone and makes a few calls, eventually managing to get a hold of their across the street neighbor, a dude about their age. He comes over right away and helps Chloe up, supporting her weight as they walk inside the house and towards the couch. 

“Thanks, Brad,” Chloe mutters with a wince as she sits down. 

“No problem. I’ll shovel the rest of the driveway for ya.”

“I cuddle you better, Mommy,” Logan says, climbing on the couch and snuggling into Chloe’s side while Beca heats up a pad in the kitchen. 

“Mm, thanks baby.” 

“Here,” Beca says when she comes back, handing her the pad. 

“I wanted the driveway to be cleared in case we needed to go to the hospital,” Chloe mumbles, grimacing as she shifts to set the pad on her lower back. “Shit, I’m old.”

Logan gasps. “Bad word, Mommy.”

“Mm I know, I’m sorry Pumpkin. I’ll put a dollar in the jar later.” She glances up at Beca, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “I should call Jenny to let her know we might need her to drive you if the baby comes today.” 

Jenny’s Chloe’s closest colleague and friend in town. The Bellas are all scattered around the country, the closest being Aubrey in Boston. 

“She’s probably swamped with Christmas Eve dinner with her parents coming over and all,” Beca points out. “Besides, I really don’t think the baby’s coming today.” 

Chloe seems to internally debate Beca’s objection for a moment. “Fine. But I’m calling her the minute you have a contraction.” 

“Alright,” Beca concedes. “You’ll probably be more comfortable in bed. Think you can climb up the stairs?” 

Chloe nods. “Yeah, let’s give it a try.” 

Once upstairs, she helps Chloe out of her down jacket and props pillows under her back to ease the pain. “I’ll be back with some pain meds, alright?” 

“Is mommy okay?” Finn asks when she makes it back downstairs, blue eyes full of empathy. 

“She’ll be fine, sweetheart,” Beca assures him gently, running her fingers through his red curls. “Just needs to rest up for a bit.” 

She entertains the kids on her own for a while, whipping up a simple lunch. Logan thankfully doesn’t fight her to go down for a nap, and Finn seems content hanging out downstairs to watch a Disney movie while Beca goes to lie down for a bit. 

Her lie-down ends up being a two-hour nap, and she wakes up in a flash to the sound of the fire alarm. Chloe is still out cold from the pain medicine and Beca shuffles out of the room and heads downstairs as quickly as she can. 

“Finn?!” She calls out, following the burning smell to the kitchen. 

The seven-year-old is standing in the middle of the room, frozen as smoke seeps out of the oven. 

“Baby, step back,” Beca instructs, yanking him away from the oven. She opens it, relieved to find no actual flames, and opens the window above the sink to let some clear air in. Grabbing the oven mitts from the drawer, she takes out what looks like a cake and sets the baking pan out on the window ledge. She focuses on her son next, crouching to his level as her eyes sweep over his body for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt, Finn?” 

He shakes his head, tears silently streaming down his cheeks. “I-I wanted to help and-and make Ch-Christmas d-dinner,” he stammers. “I’m sorry.” 

Beca’s expression softens. “Oh, baby…” She pulls him into a tight hug. “I’m just relieved you’re alright.” 

“Bec?” Chloe appears around the corner, one hand braced over her lower back. “What happened?” 

“Our little guy wanted to make dinner to help out but things didn’t go as planned.” 

Finn sniffles, glancing at Chloe. “I made a cake and put it in the oven but then I went back to watch TV and I forgot about it until the alarm. But it was too late.” More tears leak out of his eyes as his features crumble. “Santa is not gonna come anymore. I ruined Christmas.” 

Beca shakes her head. “You didn’t ruin Christmas, honey. You wanted to help us, which is really sweet, but it’s not safe to use the oven on your own. So next time you should ask one of us, alright?” 

Finn nods. “Okay, I promise.” 

“And Santa is absolutely still coming,” Chloe adds with a beaming grin. “Because you’re kind, and devoted, and the best big brother there is.” 

“What’s devoted?” He asks in a small voice. 

“It means that you love your family and friends and will do many things to make them happy, like trying to make Christmas dinner.” Beca smiles. “But we can still make that happen. Wanna help mama make grilled cheese? That’s an acceptable dinner, right?” 

Finn’s head bobs up and down; grilled cheese happens to be his and Logan’s favorite. 

When Logan wakes up, the three of them spend an hour decorating the table and making dinner while singing Christmas tunes. They watch a movie Finn and Logan picked out, and the kids set a plate of cookies and a glass of milk next to the Christmas tree for Santa. 

“Oh man, what a day,” Beca mutters with a sigh as she crawls into bed after making a few trips downstairs to arrange the presents around the Christmas tree. “How are you feeling?” 

“A bit better,” Chloe says from her spot next to her. “This Christmas will definitely be one we’ll remember. I threw my back out, our son almost set the house on fire and--” 

Beca gasps. “My water just broke.” 

An almost comical length of silence follows as Chloe and Beca stare at each other with wide eyes. 

“Or I peed my pants, but I just used the toilet.” 

“You’re kidding,” Chloe whispers. 

Beca throws her wife a glare. “Fuck. Can you drive?” 

“I’ll manage.” 

It’s a good thing they already set up the car seat and that it hasn’t snowed anymore during the day, so their driveway is clear. 

“Whassgoin’ on?” She hears Logan mumble when Chloe crosses the hall to wake the children up. Beca’s water broke two hours ago, and her contractions are close enough that they need to head to the hospital. 

“The baby is coming,” Chloe says gently. “So you guys are going to go to Ms. Jenny’s for the rest of the night while mommy takes mama to the hospital.” 

While Beca’s labor with Logan lasted over twenty-two hours, this baby is in much more of a haste to meet the world. 

Riley Josephine Mitchell is born at 6:13 am on Christmas morning. Beca’s chest feels fit to burst with love as their tiny screaming baby is laid on her chest, her cries quieting down as soon as she feels Beca’s warm skin. 

“It’s okay, baby girl,” she murmurs, brushing soft kisses to her forehead. Her eyes find Chloe’s equally teary ones. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Chloe beams, resting her forehead against the side of Beca’s head. “Merry Christmas.” 

Yeah… definitely one they will remember.