#they'll never give us anything this FUN!

[sysig]

How is skeleton shaped (Patreon)

[snekdood]

ppl used to try to make fun of me for using zoo tycoon as a reference for animal shit and idk man like.... the game is literally built off the idea of educating you, it literally has an encyclopedia that tells you not only about the animals but also about the plants too. yeah its a tycoon game but thats only if you focus on it in that sense, personally i dont, I've always liked playing it to learn more about the behaviors of animals. sure things are generalized here and there and not 100% accurate- partially bc it was made in the early 2000's and we've probably acquired more info since then, but regardless its still pretty solid and taught me a lot about certain animals growing up, which other tycoon games dont really offer... anything teach-worthy.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Drabble List #12

75 prompts to write drabbles or longer stories.

"Everyone should be delighted to know me."

"Tick tock, the clock is ticking."

"What a fantastic idea!"

"Not going to destroy the world or anything."

"You're awful at solving riddles."

"That was a poor decision."

"Do you really think you can handle the truth?"

"I never thought I'd see you again."

"Why did you lie to me?"

"This isn't the end, it's just the beginning."

"You promised you'd never leave."

"There's more to this story than you know."

"I'm not the hero you think I am."

"Sometimes, doing the right thing means making tough choices."

"If you walk away now, don't bother coming back."

"I've kept this secret for far too long."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?"

"They'll never believe us, but we have to try."

"I can't believe you just said that."

"No one else knows, and it has to stay that way."

"Do you trust me?"

"We can't let them win."

"You have no idea what you're getting into."

"This changes everything."

"I thought I knew you."

"I've waited my whole life for this moment."

"You were the last person I expected to see."

"Why does it always have to be you?"

"We're running out of time."

"Do you think they suspect anything?"

"I've made up my mind."

"This isn't what I signed up for."

"How can you be so sure?"

"We can't afford any mistakes."

"You can't keep running away from your past."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Sometimes, the hardest thing is to let go."

"You know this isn't right."

"What are you hiding from me?"

"We have to stick together."

"I'm not giving up on you."

"There's no turning back now."

"I never wanted any of this."

"What if we don't have a choice?"

"It's time to face the music."

"You have to trust your instincts."

"Everything we've worked for is at stake."

"I didn't expect you to understand."

"This is our only shot."

"I'm not interested anymore."

"You owe me an explanation."

"We can't do this alone."

"I thought you were on my side."

"This is bigger than both of us."

"What do you have to lose?"

"I can't pretend anymore."

"You're not as invisible as you think."

"What's the worst that could happen?"

"You're the only one who can help."

"We need to be careful."

"Are you with me?"

"No, this is enough."

"I don't think I can do this."

"Ok, so sue me."

"What a fine young man."

"This isn't about you."

"I know what I have to do."

"We need to find a way out."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not as simple as it seems."

"I can't believe it's come to this."

"This isn't over yet."

"What's the plan?"

"Take me to court."

"There's no easy answer."

Drabble Masterlist

Have fun creating and writing!

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[danibeanie]

Astro notes :P

hi these are just my personal observations! :)

-I noticed that virgo placements are more inclined to smoke weed and I think it's because they're always anxious, so they need something to chillax them.🥲

-virgo placements are natural helpers their analytical energy is sometimes positive in this sense.

-if anyone's mars falls into your 12th house be WARY of these people because they're more likely to project their anger onto you. (12th house is hidden enemies & mars is anger, coming from personal experience)

-Im obsessed with scorpio risings (coming from a taurus rising) They're the realest people I've ever met and every single one of them has gone through their trials and tribulations, but they always come out on top in the end :,)

-ALSO their eyes tell a story like very deeeeep

-gemini placements are always willing to learn anything whenever and wherever! which is why they become bored easily, they're always intrigued which is something I love about us.

-this is so stereotypical but capricorns are really workaholics like it's okay to take a break y'all lmao.

-another observation is that any authority figure that I've had has a capricorn placement, wether that be moon, sun, or mars. they naturally have that discipline and ambition which is noticed.

-If someone has a case of rbf (resting b**** face) they more than likely have an aries placement in their big three OR chart ruler. my bestie has a aries stellium and people always thinks she's mad, but she's literally chillin.

-taurus energy is hard to go unnoticed ESPECIALLY in the big three. You can have the most extroverted sign or stellium, but you'll always feel that earthy, rooted, in nature presence somewhere.

-also if you see someone with a prominent style or just a great fashion sense , more than likely they got prominent taurus in their chart. *taurus is ruled by venus after all!*

-cancer moons are very affected by outside energies which is why they're so emotional and sensitive. the crab is very representative of their outside demeanor=guarded which unintentionally makes them perceived as mystical. (in reality we just don't wanna get hurt LMAO)

-one thing about cancer moons is that if you f with them be ready to be left in the cold forever. these people give you their all and if you take that for granted they'll act as if they never knew you.

-leos confidence doesn't have to be loud it's just there... like you can feel it and that's what makes them stand out. they know they the shi LOL

-libra woman really have that hourglass figure like it can be venus, moon, or mars, or sun. The funny thing is that libras image is the balanced scales which makes sense. they don't even have to have a hourglass fig they just naturally have a pretty figure, glamour vibes.

-sag moons are a breath of fresh air like you just wanna have fun and travel. very easy going energy

-sag venus men are SO into anyone they really don't have a type, more into exotic people or someone unique or different than their culture.

-aqua moons are so interesting to me because they come off as disinterested or very vague? lmao I don't know how to explain it but most of the aqua moons I've encountered have a neptune conjunction which is prob why I can't read them. 😭

-I do believe that aqua moons are deep in thought tho.(very interesting people)

pisces placements are on par with gemini placements when it comes to adapting to energies and environments. they're both mutuable signs but with pisces they're elusive and sort of passive meanwhile gemini elusiveness is more outward/blunt because of the mercury influence.

[matchingbatbites]

The woman is fucking stunning. A goddess amongst mortals, a vision sent from the heavens to bless any who may see her. Eddie could honestly go on, but she has to return her focus to the man currently standing at the counter and not the beauty that just walked through the door.

"Here's your change," she says as she passes over the few coins and receipt. "Pickup is at the end of the counter, and they'll call your name when it's ready.

The man gives Eddie his thanks before walking away, and then Aphrodite incarnate is stepping up to the counter. God, she's even more beautiful up close. The slant of her nose, the artful swoop of her chestnut hair - the twin moles on her cheek that are eerily familiar for a reason Eddie can't quite place.

"Welcome to Black Roast Café, can I have a name for your order?"

"Hi there," the woman says with a soft smile, and god, Eddie feels bad for ever making fun of Jerry Maguire. You had me at hello, indeed. "Uh, Stevie is fine."

Eddie nods and types the name into the system. "Okay, Stevie, what can I get you?"

The woman - Stevie - doesn't even look at the board before she rattles off her order. "Can I please get a large, iced caramel latte, with three shots of espresso, a pump of white chocolate, and extra whip? Oh, and a butterscotch blondie."

Eddie's brain shudders to a halt. The order is specific, unique, and it's one she's heard before, from- well if she's being honest, from the only man that's ever made Eddie question her lesbianism.

Steve had been so beautiful and so kind. He was her absolute favorite customer before he'd moved away two years ago, following his best friend when she transferred to a different university to complete her master's. Eddie had mourned just a little, had grieved the loss of sunshine he brought to her days.

Eddie's eyes snap to the two moles on the woman's cheek and everything clicks into place. "Oh shit! You're back!" she says, her filter absolutely failing her. Stevie's smile fades a bit, replaced with a tinge of nervousness as she shifts in place.

"Oh, uh, I didn't- I wasn't expecting you to-"

"Remember you?" Eddie cuts in as she finally punches the order into the register. "Honestly, your order is a hard one to forget. Clearly I was right about all that sugar going to your hips."

It's a gentle tease, one she used to make back when- before, because the order really is just so sweet. It works the way Eddie hoped it would, because Stevie just laughs softly and smooths her hands over her full, curvaceous - fuck, Eddie, head out of the gutter - her hips.

"Yeah, I could probably stand to cut back a little, huh?"

"Don't you dare," Eddie retorts, offended at just the suggestion. "If anything I encourage more, because you're- you look amazing, actually."

The woman blushes, so pink and pretty, and bites into her lower lip the way Eddie wants to. "You think so?" she asks as she hands her card over to Eddie.

"Uh, totally. Like, you were attractive before - and that's coming from a lesbian - but now you-" Eddie pauses, taking a second to run the card as she shrugs. "You're like, glowing. And it only makes you more beautiful."

There's no response from Stevie as the receipt prints, and it's not until Eddie is handing back the card that she sees the stunned look on Stevie's face, her flush even darker. Fuck, that might have been too much.

Before Eddie can apologize though, Stevie takes her receipt and blurts out "I think you're hot."

Huh?

"You do?" Eddie asks, and Stevie nods.

"I've always thought you were hot. But you have the little-" She points to where Eddie's nametag is, to the little lesbian flag sticker that she stuck on it. "The sticker, and like- My best friend, Robin? She's also a lesbian, and she's talked about how annoying it is when guys hit on her and I didn't want to be like that, so I never said anything."

God, Stevie's just as sweet as she used to be, and much more considerate than Eddie even knew. She probably wouldn't have minded getting hit on by Steve at the time, and now that Stevie is standing before her, more beautiful than she's ever been and claiming that she finds Eddie attractive? Well, there's no way Eddie can't make a move.

"How long are you in town?" Eddie asks.

"Oh, uh, we just moved back, actually. Robin finished her master's program and got a job at a local museum translating documents and artifacts."

"Okay, that's cool as hell and I definitely want to hear more about that, but first- Do you want to go out with me? Like, on a date?"

The question seems to surprise Stevie, and it takes her a second to process it. "Are you sure? Even though I'm-"

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and way out of my league? Yeah, I'm pretty sure, sweetheart. And I'm not above begging if I have to."

Stevie blushes again and oh, Eddie is already addicted to the way it floods her cheeks, is in love with how alive, how happy she looks. "Then yeah, I'd really, really like that." She grabs a pen from the nearby cup and scribbles her number on the back of her receipt before passing it to Eddie. "Call me when you're off?" she asks, and Eddie nods, beaming.

"The moment I clock out," Eddie promises, and Stevie giggles - giggles! Stevie's name is called and Eddie is thankful that the store is practically empty, because for a second there she genuinely forgot where she was.

Stevie gives her a wink and a "Talk to you later, Eddie," and Eddie barely waits for her to leave the store before she's adding Stevie's number into her phone.

"Okay," Chrissy says as she slides up beside Eddie. "Who is she and how did you get her number so easily?"

Eddie grins as she saves the new contact under Stevie 🩷🌹😍 "That, darling Christine, is my future wife."

[silveeja]

ミ☆ Astro Notes!

some basic astrology notes based on personal experience and opinions

i'm not a professional astrologer, this is just for fun~

let me know if you guys think differently/have different experiences, or if you relate to any of these, i'm curious to know what everyone else thinks! :3

random natal observations;

✩ scorpio risings do have an intense, penetrating gaze, but i noticed it's not just risings but ANY scorpio placement has it. i know someone who's chart is mainly air, but their venus is in scorpio and whewww those intense EYES!! (also the amount of scorpio placements i've seen say they're too shy for eye contact??? ya'll don't know the power that you hold! use it! hehe)

✩ speaking of scorpio placements, i would never want to fight with a scorpio mercury, those people will break you with their words if pushed far enough. their words will cut you deep, they know exactly what to say to hurt someone.

✩ pls stop saying aquarians (especially moons) are emotionless and don't care about anything. they can be like this if they choose to, that's their superpower, they can detach themselves from people and situations and emotions at will, but it doesn't mean they're emotionless or like robots, if anything their emotions run too deep sometimes and it all gets overwhelming, to the point where they need to take a step back. once you're close to an aquarian though, they'll open up, trust.

✩ also once an aquarius is done, they're done. they give many chances and are generous, but once they decide to leave, a switch happens and the warm, friendly person is gone. it's true that they are masters at ghosting and detaching, but if they do so, it's always for a reason.

✩ something i've noticed with leo moons (especially if they have scorpio sun or other scorpio placements) is they tend to be a bit selfish, idk if its subconscious or not. they care a lot about their own feelings, but dismiss other people's feelings and have a 'it's not that deep' attitude when they do something that hurts others. I've noticed this with 3 different scorpio sun/leo moon people.

✩ if astrology isn't real then why do sagittarius placements speak before they think??? lol it's kinda funny seeing their faces when they realise they just said something outrageous.

✩ people with venus in their 5th, please stop flirting with everything that has a pulse are ya'll not tired??? (teach me your rizz ways).

✩ i'm calling ya'll out, but cancer moons, please stop playing the victim in situations you created! just take responsibility and move on, no need to play the blaming, crying game. i believe in you! :)

✩ i've noticed pisces mercury people have sweet, soft voices but they tend to mess up when they talk a lot? like stuttering, forgetting what word they wanted to say, mispronouncing words. i guess it's the neptunian energy messing with mercury? anyone else notice it or just me?

✩ my mom is a scorpio mars and she refused to enter a shop where a lady she had beef with 30 years ago works saying "i don't fuck with her" LMFAO the scorpio placements (especially mars) and the grudge holding stereotype is realllll

✩ someone having juno/venus in their 11th house really likes the idea of friends to lovers type of romance! the types to want their lover also be their best friend. ♡

✩ to those who have mars square pluto, it gets better, i promise. you will heal, and the darkness won't last forever. remember that you hold a lot of power within you!

✩ harsh aspects to the MC, especially with sun/moon/mars, can definitely indicate a delay when it comes to finding a career, holding down a job, deciding what you want to do in life. remember that life isn't a race or a competition, even if it seems this way in this society, do it all at your own pace. it's your life, after all!

random synastry observations;

✩ not really an observation but i find it hilarious how some people are obsessed with the 8th house especially synastry, when it's the house that rules obsession lol the irony.

✩ personally, i've had 8th house synastry quite a lot, and i noticed that i prefer being the planet person, when i'm house i feel the 8th house energy way more to the point where it can become too overwhelming, when i'm the planet i feel it but not as intensely. so in my experience, the house person is the one who's more obsessed/attached/repulsed.

✩ someone's ascendant falling into another's 8th house will make the 8th house person feel intimidated/scared of the ascendant even if there's no reason to be.

✩ a family member's chiron falling in someone's 4th house can indicate deep wounds when it comes to family/childhood, the chiron person either created the wounds or triggers them for the house person. :/

✩ on a lighter note, someone's venus in another's 1st house! how sweet! i noticed it doesn't even have to be conjunct to the ascendant (although it definitely helps if it is), the attraction/appreciation is still definitely there! the venus person loves the 1st house and how they look and present themselves, if romantic, i picture the gif of a cartoon character with heart eyes popping out when they look at the 1st house person!

✩ 12th house synastry really does feel foggy, more so for the planet person, you never actually know what the house truly thinks of you, when you're together it can feel awesome and like such a close bond, but when apart suddenly doubts start to come in, like "do they really like me?" or "are we actually close or am i being delusional and imagining it?" and "what if it's one sided and only i'm feeling this way, and the house doesn't even care?" it can be a real mindfuck fr.

✩ someone's mars falling in another's 3rd house and/or conjunct their mercury can show the two people love talking to each other and have the most engaging and diverse conversations, the types to just stay up all night and talk about 100s of different topics! if badly aspected though it can lead to heated debates and arguments, especially the mars person being more argumentative and aggressive in their approach.

✩ venus conjunct someone's chiron is super nice to have, the venus person soothes the chiron person and helps them heal whatever wounds they are carrying! very supportive and sweet bond.

✩ in friendships/family, moon conjunct mars can feel abrasive for the moon person, the mars person being too aggressive/harsh for the moon even if they don't mean it and it's subconscious, the moon tends to take mars' words and actions to heart.

✩ in romantic relationships though, i personally found it works really well, the bond they have is amazing and the mars person tends to be very protective and loyal when it comes to the moon, it's a fiery aspect so when they fight they fight hard, but when they love, it burns in the best way possible!

✩ 6th house synastry really doesn't get enough attention and a lot of people tend to gloss over it, but it's so cute! it's definitely an acts of service and quality time type of vibe between two people, they just love hanging out with each other even if they're not doing anything in particular, or they love helping each other out with different things. it gives cooking/baking together, having movie marathons with a bunch of snacks and blankets, napping together, going for late night walks/drives just bc, one person is reading and the other is watching tiktoks while enjoying the comfortable silence.

these are some of my basic observations, feel free to agree/disagree with me! i hope ya'll have a nice day! ♡

[astrophileous]

A Well-Kept Secret

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: While working on a case in D.C., Spencer didn't expect to hear a familiar name being mentioned as the sole surviving witness. Or, in which the team discovers Spencer's well-kept secret.

Warning(s): established secret relationship, mentions and/or depictions of death/physical violence/gun violence/injury/attack, signs of trauma, survivor's guilt, curse words, hurt/comfort, nudity but it's not sexual, allusions to sexy times, mentions/implied alcohol consumption

Word Count: 5900-ish

Author's Note: hiya! I decided to write this lil piece after seeing the fic challenge posted by @imagining-in-the-margins abt the family/found family trope. I had a lotta fun writing this one and I think it's got potential to be something more. So pls comment or message me if you wanna see me exploring with this idea (either turning it into a series of connected one-shots or multi-parters). Don't forget to like/comment/reblog and give me a follow :) I hope you enjoy! 💞

Criminal Minds Masterlist

When Hotch had notified the team to haul their asses up and drove all the way to D.C., Spencer never expected that it would also entail him having to suffer through a mini heart attack.

The series of attacks around D.C. had been dominating the 6 PM news segments in the entire country. What was initially perceived as a suspected sequence of robberies gone wrong--since the first two targets to have been hit were a bank and a prestigious auction house--soon turned into a nationwide panic as people realized that there was a bigger game at play.

After the third attack was found to have occurred in the headquarters of one of the top, up-and-coming renewable energy startups in the states, the D.C. police finally started to entertain the idea that perhaps they hadn't been dealing with their usual petty robbers at all.

And naturally, that was when the BAU had been called in.

As soon as the team entered the Metropolitan PD bullpen, they were struck with the smell of panic and the sight of chaos.

"Agent Hotchner?" A middle-aged man in a gray shirt and blue tie appeared in front of them. "My name is Detective Mills, we spoke on the phone."

"Of course, Detective." Hotch shook the other man's hand. "This is my team. Agent Prentiss, Jareau, and Dr. Reid. I have two others already at the latest crime scene. What can you tell us so far?"

"As you can see--" Detective Mills gestured towards the frenzied scene behind him, "--the entire D.C. area is going haywire after news broke out about yesterday's attack. The public is demanding the city to be put on lockdown, and I'm getting pressure from above as well. We received information that nearly half the city has called in sick today."

"A classic response to mass paranoia," Spencer noted.

"Well, paranoia or not, I just want to start getting some answers." Detective Mills began to lead the team further into the bullpen. "I have every pair of hands I could spare in this. If they aren't out there chasing leads, they're here interviewing the victims, friends, and families."

"Any luck so far?" Emily asked.

"Nothing more than what you've probably seen in the files."

Detective Mills pushed open the door to an office in the corner, away from the havoc in the center of the station.

"Lieutenant Jeffreys retired a couple of weeks ago. The lucky bastard." Detective Mills scoffed jokingly. "It's the most decent space I can spare at the moment. Think you'll be fine in here?"

"It's more than enough, Detective. Thank you," Hotch replied.

"What about the witnesses from yesterday's attack? Have you had the chance to interview them?" JJ asked as the rest of the team started setting up.

"Some of my men are with them right now. But I doubt they'll have anything useful. Just like the other two cases, the attack happened while most of the office was out. The rest left behind were DOA at the latest scene."

"They're rapidly devolving," Spencer pondered out loud as he skimmed over the case files. "They went from killing a non-compliant security guard during the first attack to executing almost every witness in the last one."

JJ raised an eyebrow. "Almost?"

"It says here there is one survivor." Spencer showed the word he had underlined in the case overview to JJ.

"Yes, there is," Detective Mills confirmed. "I had one of my men talk to her. There's not much she could give us. Thing is, she wasn't even supposed to be there."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"She didn't work in that office. She was a consultant who just happened to be visiting. Poor girl's pretty shaken up. She hid in a supply closet the entire time. She was the one who found the bodies and called 911."

"So, the perpetrators never checked the rooms while they were holding the victims hostage?" Hotch questioned.

"Not according to her statement, no. See, I thought it weird myself. Do you have any idea why?"

"Not sure." Hotch hummed, deep in thought. "Perhaps our UnSubs didn't think to check because they didn't know someone was in there. Detective, you said all of the victims were the only employees of the company who didn't attend the event downtown, correct?"

"Yeah, they were the only ones who weren't listed as attendees. Why? Do you think those people were specifically targeted?"

"Unfortunately, we can't rule out anything yet this early in the investigation," Hotch said. "We need to talk to the witnesses to know more. JJ?"

"On it." JJ nodded. "What can you tell us about yesterday's sole survivor, Detective?"

"Not much. I didn't interview her personally, one of my men did. She works at a consulting engineering firm in town," Detective Mills replied. "I believe her name is... what is it called?"

When Detective Mills mentioned the name, Spencer's heart instantly crashed inside of its cage.

"What?" His hand had stopped scribbling on the board. In a matter of miliseconds, Spencer had crossed the room towards the doorway where Detective Mills was standing. "What did you say her name was?"

Dumbfounded, the detective stared at a dread-stricken Spencer before spelling out the name once more.

"Why? What's wrong?" Detective Mills asked in confusion.

JJ touched Spencer's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

But Spencer, either too alarmed or merely choosing not to acknowledge both questions, asked instead, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"In the waiting room by the pantry--"

Spencer didn't even wait for Detective Mills to form his complete thought before dashing out. JJ exchanged a glance with Emily following Spencer's sudden exit, perplexed by his odd turn of behavior.

"I'll go get him," JJ announced before leaving the room, chasing after a flurry of wavy hair and a wool-knitted purple vest sprinting across the bullpen.

The roaring commotion inside the station was almost loud enough to rival the intensity of your racing thoughts.

Almost.

At this point, you didn't think there was anything you could do anymore. The vivid images from yesterday's attack were playing continuously in your head. There was nothing you could do to stop them.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you mourned the loss of sleep that you failed to get the previous night. As if the waking nightmares weren't torment enough, the images had somehow translated even more cruelly into your subconscious. You could barely close your eyes for three seconds without feeling like you had been brought back to that place.

Cold, cramped, and alone. Fearing for your life in the tiny supply closet that smelled more like death than bleach.

At the sound of the door opening, you quickly turned around in your seat to hide your face away from prying eyes. The last thing you needed at that moment was having a complete stranger seeing you fall apart in the middle of a police station.

But when the voice came carrying the sound of your name, it wasn't the voice of a complete stranger you had heard. It was a voice you knew more than you probably knew your own. A voice you loved and a voice you had longed to hear for the past gruesome twenty-four hours.

"Spencer?" You turned back towards the door, seeing the face you adored most in the whole world staring back at you.

"Sweetheart."

At the speed of a lightning, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you and gathered your broken little pieces into his arms.

Spencer's touch was everywhere. Your hair, your neck, your shoulders. As if he was checking whether you were real. That you were actually there inside his arms, and you were not a simple imagination that his mind had conjured up.

Surrounded by the safety of his embrace, you could feel the shattered pieces of yourself beginning to mend once more.

"Spencer," you uttered his name again as you pulled away, still in disbelief that he was physically there with you.

"I'm here," he promised you as he cupped your face gently.

"Spencer, what are you... How..."

"My team is working your case. We arrived half an hour ago," he explained simply. "Sunshine, why didn't you tell me? I thought you were still in Alaska?"

You had previously apprised Spencer that you would be hard to reach during your trip since you would be spending most of your time at the power plant site where cellphone receptions were scarce. So when an entire day went by without him ever hearing from you, Spencer didn't have any reason to be worried.

Never in a million years would he have ever predicted that you'd be caught in the middle of a hostage situation.

That thought alone caused Spencer to squeeze your hand a little tighter than usual.

"I'm sorry, Spence," you said sincerely. "My trip ended earlier than planned. I arrived back yesterday morning. I actually wanted to surprise you last night. After yesterday's... incident, I wanted to call you, but my phone was shot--"

"Wait, what? You were shot?"

"No! No, baby. Not me. Just my phone," you assured him. "But that's why I couldn't call. I did attempt you once using this station's phone, but it went straight to voicemail."

At the new piece of information, the colors immediately drained from Spencer's face.

"That was you? Fuck. I didn't--I didn't know. I rejected the call because I didn't know it was you."

"Hey." You stopped his guilty rambling with a hand to his cheek. "It's okay. I'm okay. I'm just glad you're here."

And then, because Spencer needed to make sure that you really were okay, he pulled you back into his arms and held you even tighter this time.

"Uh, Spence?"

The sound in the doorway snapped you both out of your mutual reverie. You looked up to see a blonde woman there, staring in an equal mixture of shock and confusion at the sight in front of her.

Spencer begrudgingly untangled himself from your arms before getting up to approach her.

"JJ, do you mind if I do the cognitive for this one?" Spencer asked.

The woman--JJ-- shifted her eyes a few times between you and Spencer. "Um, of course. I'll just go and inform Hotch. Tell us if you need anything."

After JJ's departure, Spencer closed the door again to award you both a much needed privacy.

He grabbed a wooden chair from the corner and dragged it before sitting down right in front of you.

"I need to start the interview now, sweetheart. Think you're up for it?"

Your whole body went rigid for a matter of seconds before you forced it to restart again. It was gone as soon as it came, but Spencer noticed it just the same.

"Look at me," Spencer ordered softly, using his delicate finger to nudge your face up until he was looking straight into your eyes. "I know it's scary. I don't want you to have to relive yesterday either, but it will help us catch whoever did this."

"I've told the police everything I knew yesterday. I was hiding the entire time." Like a coward. "I didn't see anything. I don't have anything else that could help you."

"I know that, sunshine. But as I've told you before, our method is slightly different. We won't be just focusing on what you saw, but also what you smelled, or maybe even heard." Spencer took your hands then, squeezing affectionately. "I'll be here with you the entire time."

The nod you gave him was hesitant, but it was a start nonetheless. You listened intently to Spencer's words and closed your eyes just as he had instructed.

"We'll start at the beginning," you heard him say. "Why don't you tell me why you went there yesterday?"

"I, uh, received a call from my friend, Nick, after my plane landed. We had been communicating back and forth since his company seeked my consultation for one of their upcoming projects," you began. "I wasn't even supposed to work because I had requested the day off. But Nick said it didn't have to be a formal meeting, so I agreed to meet him."

"Tell me what you remember after arriving at the office."

Your mind traveled back to that specific time one day prior. You remembered walking into the place and seeing its unusual state of vacancy even though there was still a good half an hour left before lunchtime.

"I just assumed everyone had gone to lunch earlier and shrugged it off," you recalled.

Spencer nodded his head. "Did anything else strike you as out of the ordinary?"

"No? I don't... I don't know. It was only my second time being there, I'm not sure what was normal and what wasn't."

"Okay. That's okay. You're doing good so far, sweetheart," Spencer quickly interjected, trying to get you to calm down before your distress could turn into a full-blown panic. "Now, what did you do next?"

"I followed Nick into his office."

Nick was keeping his promise true. It hadn't felt like a formal meeting, just two old college buddies reminiscing about the past and discussing possibilities of the future that, of course, included the company's upcoming project which you would be working on with him.

"I excused myself to the bathroom at some point," you added. "When I first heard the commotion, I thought nothing of it. It's like the idea that a group full of armed men had taken over the building didn't even cross my mind. I mean, why would it? I was on my way back to Nick's office when I saw them."

You recalled turning a corner after exiting the bathroom only to see those figures carrying machine guns and shouting at everyone to get on their knees or put their hands above their heads. You remembered sprinting the way you had come from and opening the first door you could reach that just happened to be the supply closet.

"Let's go back to the moment you saw them," Spencer urged gently. "How many people were there? Do you remember any conspicuous detail? Maybe one of them had tattoos or spoke with an accent. Anything that distinguished them."

Taking a deep breath, you tried replaying those crucial seconds slowly in your head.

"There were four of them. I couldn't see much. They were all wearing identical black clothes."

Suddenly, an unexpected piece of memory rushed to the front of your mind. You opened your eyes in shock, meeting Spencer's curious gaze that had been kept intently on you the entire time.

"I think at least one of them is a woman," you told him.

Spencer's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"One of the guys said something about... fucking this place up. And then she laughed. I heard her. It was definitely a female laugh."

"Good. That's good."

"Yeah? Do you think it'll help?"

Spencer nodded assuredly, bringing his hand to leave calming strokes on your head. "I know it will. You've done a great job, sweetheart. I'm proud of you."

The praise Spencer gave eased the tension in your shoulders. As if having been granted fresh air after decades of confinement, you were finally able to let yourself breathe again.

Spencer continued his loving strokes on your head. Little by little, the weight of his touch melted the resolve you had built into a pathetic puddle on the floor. Without its mental shield protecting you, your tears sped forward, gathering in your eyes until they spilled on the vast path down your cheeks.

"Hey, hey." Spencer's voice was laden with panic after seeing you start to cry. "Sunshine, what is it? What's wrong? Talk to me."

"I-I just... God." You struggled to get the words out in between sobs. "I'm a coward, Spencer."

"What?"

"All of those people... They died because I was a fucking coward."

Your admission tore into the air before stabbing Spencer right through his chest.

"Sweetheart, you know that's not true."

"But it is!" you cried out, pulling away from Spencer's grounding hold around your shaking body in favor of your own arms. "I was a coward. I ran and hid because I was too scared to die. Too scared to fight. If I had just tried a little harder, I could've called for help. That way, maybe all of those people wouldn't... And Nick wouldn't..."

A haunting image flashed behind your eyes. The image of Nick's limp and lifeless body on the floor, among those of the others. You remembered crying next to him, punching his chest, body, and arm despite having seen the gunshot wound on his forehead. It took you another five minutes before you eventually managed to gather yourself together, found a phone, and dialed 911.

Not that it made any difference. They were all already dead.

Spencer could hear his heart breaking at the sight of you curling into yourself, recoiling from his touch because you somehow believed you didn't deserve his affection at that moment. If Spencer could just transfer all of your pain towards him, he would. Seeing you beat yourself up that way over something that happened and was done to you was the worst kind of torture he ever had to endure in life.

And Spencer had been through more kinds of torture than the general population in the world.

Deciding that he had seen enough of your self-deprecating torment, he reclaimed your hands inside of his palms and urged you to look at him.

"Are you hearing yourself right now?" Spencer asked incredulously. "How can you even think that way? Sweetheart, what happened to those people, to Nick, it is not your fault."

"B-but, if I hadn't run away--"

"Then you would've died, too," he cut you off. "Sunshine, there were four of them with machine guns. No one stood a single chance against them. Those people were there to kill. There was nothing you could've done."

It was a hard pill to swallow, but Spencer needed you to hear it.

He needed you to know the truth no matter how unacceptable it was.

"If you hadn't hid from them, we would've found seven bodies there instead of six. And I--" Spencer took a shuddering breath, "--I would've lost you."

Your shoulders deflated at his revelation. "Spence--"

"So please--" he searched your eyes then, using his thumb to sweep away the remaining tears under your eyes, "--stop holding yourself accountable. I promise I will do everything I can to find those people and make them pay for what they did."

Spencer's vow triggered a new wave of tears that compelled you to sink into his awaiting arms. He let you stay there until you had cried your tears dry. It was something he also secretly needed for himself after suffering through the short-lived horror over the mention of your name in relation to the heinous case. He just needed to make sure that you were okay.

A few minutes passed by with you in his arms. Eventually, Spencer had to tear himself away to finish his job. He asked you to wait as he wrapped up the transcript of your cognitive interview, along with his professional report over it.

"I need to run somewhere real quick. I promise to be back in a couple of hours," he notified JJ as he handed her the interview report. "Tell Hotch for me? Thanks."

Without waiting for his friend's reply, Spencer rushed back to the waiting room before leading you out to take you home.

Back at your apartment, Spencer guided you towards the direction of your bathroom as soon as you had stepped into the threshold.

"Are you trying to get me naked, Spencer?" you remarked playfully after he refused to let you take your clothes off yourself.

"Yes." The gleaming mischief in your eyes caused him to flick your nose lightly. "Just to get you ready for your bath. Get your head straight, will you?"

You scoffed at his back as he turned around to check the water temperature in the tub.

Once you were submerged safely inside, Spencer left the bathroom to give you some privacy. Meanwhile, he began rummaging through your drawers to pull out a change of clothes, a towel, and a clean sheet for your bed.

By the time you exited, Spencer had changed your bedsheets and lit one of your favorite candles on the bedside table. He asked you to sit down on the bed as he kneeled before you, helping you put on the pajamas he had picked out with little prints of sunflowers on them.

None of Spencer's touches were sexual. They swept over your skin with the care of an artist handling their most precious work. When his eyes found yours, you swore you could almost cry from the intense adoration that seemed to shine so brightly out of them.

As he guided you to lie on the bed, you were surprised to see him following suit. He got under the covers with you, pulling you close to tangle every inch of your limbs with his.

"I love you, Spencer," you admitted to his chest, heart heavy with the deep appreciation and overwhelming affection for the man beside you.

Spencer looked down at your confession, finding his favorite pair of eyes already looking earnestly at him. Instinctively, he reached for your chin with his fingers, tugging your face upward until he could capture your lips with his.

The kiss was slow. Careful. Filled with silent promises and discreet reassurances. When you both parted, Spencer didn't pull himself away. Instead, he let his forehead touch yours while his eyes stayed closed.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" you asked quietly.

"Yes, sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

Although the two of you knew his answer was a lie, you both chose to pretend otherwise. You knew Spencer still had responsibilities to fulfill, along with a promise to you that he intended to keep. You knew that when you woke up later that evening, Spencer would already be long gone, and you would be forced to bask in the traces of himself that he had left behind.

But for now, Spencer was still there, in the comfort of your bedroom, lying on the bed next to you. And that knowledge alone was good enough for you to finally drift further into the land of sleep, surrounded by the warmth of Spencer's loving embrace.

"I'm telling you," JJ insisted, looking at her entire team minus Spencer and Hotch. "There was definitely something going on between them. Why else would he request to take over the cognitive for me?"

"Maybe he was feeling generous," Rossi deadpanned, earning an unimpressed glare from JJ.

It had been a full week since the BAU team had arrived in D.C. to investigate the series of gun attacks in the city. Just the day prior, they had successfully made their fourth arrest, bringing this case to yet another satisfying conclusion in the eye of justice.

If nothing else was amiss, they should have been on their way back to Quantico in less than an hour. In the meantime, though, JJ felt obliged to gather her team members in the middle of the bullpen to share her suspicion about a certain scene she had accidentally caught on their first day working the case.

"Pretty boy did seem more emotionally involved in this case than he usually does, though," Derek pointed out.

"Right? Right?" JJ replied almost too enthusiastically. "Come on, aren't you guys at least half as curious as I am about who this mystery girl might be? Don't you wanna try finding out who she is while we're still here?"

They all stared at each other in hesitation.

"Or, we could just ask Spencer directly and let him explain?" Emily suggested, receiving incredulous looks from the other three in response. "Yeah, you're right. What did you say her name was again?"

"I don't remember," JJ answered.

"It must be listed in the files somewhere, right?" Derek immediately sprung into action, reaching towards the scattered case files that might contain the name they were looking for.

"Just to be clear, I am not taking any part in this." Rossi sighed.

"Got it!" Derek waved the offending file in hand, giving it to JJ, who instantly began skimming over it.

"Alright. Says here that her name is..."

JJ read the name aloud when unexpectedly, an answering sound sprouted from behind them.

"Yes?"

Every single one of them turned in shock at your voice. You smiled at their wide-eyed expressions, waving your hand a little awkwardly in the air.

"You!" JJ exclaimed.

"Me?"

Emily nudged JJ in the ribs, making the blonde woman wince.

"Y-you're the witness from the startup case, right?" JJ said, trying to rectify the situation.

"That's me."

"What can we do for you, Miss?" Rossi asked, stepping forward and away from the rest of the group.

"I'm actually looking for Spencer. Do you know where he might be?"

"Spencer Reid? You know Reid?" Emily asked.

Before you had the chance to reply, the man in question came strolling into the bullpen, rambling animatedly to Hotch who was walking beside him. The moment Spencer caught sight of you, though, he immediately abandoned Hotch's side and rushed towards where you were standing.

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, of course," you told him, fitting yourself easily into Spencer's side as his arm went around your waist. "Hi, Hotch."

The older man called your name in greeting. "I got your message. You wanted to talk to me?"

"I wanted to ask you--well, all of you, actually--" you glanced around at the other team members, "--if maybe you all would let me treat you to lunch? As a thank you for your hard work on the case."

Hotch nodded in response. "It's fine with me. We don't have to be back until tonight, anyway. Everyone?"

Instead of replying to your offer, Emily voiced aloud the question that was circling everyone's mind.

"You know her?" Emily looked at Hotch before dragging her eyes away towards you. "And you know him? You know each other? How?"

You gazed up at Spencer's eyes, seeing them shining with the same mirth as the one you felt dancing in your stomach.

"I guess this is supposed to be the part where I introduce myself, isn't it?" You chuckled.

Extending your palm, you shook each of their hands while telling them your name, them responding back with theirs even though you already knew who was who long before you had even met them.

"I still don't understand," JJ admitted after you finished shaking her hand. "How did you know Spencer and Hotch?"

Once again, you looked into Spencer's eyes, a question bouncing around in yours. Spencer's nod of affirmation was the only go-ahead you needed.

It's time.

"I'm Spencer's girlfriend."

"She's my wife."

You turned your head towards Spencer in shock.

In front of you, Spencer's teammates were causing an uproar.

"Wait, what?" Emily stared dumbfoundedly.

"You have a girlfriend?" Derek asked in disbelief.

"You're married?!" JJ shrieked.

"Hold on a second," Rossi interjected, holding his palms out as if to tell everyone to stand down and calm themselves. "So which one is it? Girlfriend or wife?"

And that was how you found yourself sitting in the private VIP room of your favorite restaurant in the city with some of Spencer's closest people on earth.

"That's the craziest story I've ever heard," Emily pondered in astonishment.

Rossi, Derek, and JJ were all wearing an identical look on each of their faces after hearing the story of how you and Spencer met: by drunkenly getting married in Vegas after only knowing each other for barely one night when you both weren't even twenty-two yet.

"If someone were to tell me yesterday that there's another member of this team who also went to get married while drunk in Vegas, I would have never even thought of mentioning Spencer's name," JJ mused.

At your curious expression, Spencer explained, "Rossi also got drunkenly married in Vegas to his third ex-wife,"

"Why didn't you two get a divorce?" Emily suddenly asked.

It was something that everyone who knew about your situation with Spencer had questioned at one point or another. The real answer was because you and Spencer had both been reluctant to go through the nasty and lengthy legal process of getting a divorce. Therefore, you decided to part ways without doing anything about it, vowing to only track each other down if one of you ever needed to end the bond because of another impending marriage or any other urgent matter.

But that reason alone was usually not enough to appease people's curiosity. And over the years, you and Spencer had poked fun over that particular fact by coming up with the most outrageous lie you could muster up.

"She wanted to get a divorce," Spencer fabricated smoothly. "I persuaded her otherwise because I had this inkling that someday we were gonna fall in love."

Usually, any other people would coo sweetly at Spencer's statememt.

But these weren't any other people. These people were Spencer's family in more ways except flesh and blood, and even without their profiling skills, you knew they could see right through Spencer's little deception.

"That sounds like bullshit to me. Doesn't that sound like bullshit to you?" Emily asked, turning to JJ for support.

"Yeah, that was bullshit, alright," JJ claimed vehemently, prompting an innocent-looking grin from Spencer and a series of chuckles from everyone else.

"When did you two start dating, then?" Rossi spoke up from one end of the table.

"About two years after Vegas, right?" you estimated, to which Spencer nodded in confirmation. "He strolled into my place of work while he was on a case, and then he asked me out."

Derek sat up on his seat after hearing the new information. "Wait, when was this? Why didn't I know about this?"

"The beginning of my second year in the BAU," Spencer offered. "Elle knew."

"Elle? Elle Greenway? You told Elle but not me?" Derek looked offended.

Spender shrugged nonchalantly. "Elle was assigned with me that day."

"Unbelievable." Derek slumped back down in his chair. "Penelope is gonna freak when she finds out what she missed today."

"Penelope? Oh, she already knows," you told him.

That revelation earned a collective disbelief look across the entire table.

"Yeah... I, uh," you cleared your throat, "I actually just went shopping with her two weeks ago."

"You've got to be kidding me," Emily muttered.

"You told Penelope but not me?" Derek sounded hurt as he pointed his accusatory stare at Spencer. "You even told Hotch!"

"I didn't tell Garcia. She dug through my history and found it out herself. Had to bribe her with candies and chocolates for a whole month to keep her quiet," Spencer grumbled. "And I had to tell Hotch. We needed to add her number to my emergency contact list."

Despite Spencer's concise explanation, Derek still seemed unsatisfied by the whole ordeal.

"How long have you known?" he finally decided to ask Hotch.

"A while," the man answered from his seat at the opposite end of the table from Rossi. "They even babysat Jack a few times for me."

"I don't believe this," Derek scowled. "Pretty boy's got himself a girl for the last six years, and I never knew? Outrageous."

"Technically, we've been married even longer than that," Spencer responded, as if he was unaware of the imminent glower that Derek was sending his way. "Eight years since Vegas."

"That's longer than any of my marriage," Rossi remarked before sipping his drink.

The laugh that resonated upon Rossi's little comment elicited an affectionate smile on your lips.

"So, you live in D.C., then?" JJ asked, at last stirring the conversation away from the topic of your and Spencer's secret marriage-slash-relationship.

"I do, yeah. But most of the time, I live out of my suitcase," you answered. "My firm has clients all over the country. A few overseas, as well. I'm lucky if I even get to have an entire week to sleep uninterrupted in my own bed."

Even then, you truthfully quite enjoyed the work you had to do. You didn't mind having to travel some place new every other week. In fact, you somehow believed that your constant need to travel for your job, and Spencer for his, was one of the reasons why the two of you worked so well together.

Although people might think that two adults who had to travel for a living were a recipe for a disastrous relationship, you and Spencer had so far proven otherwise. Because of your respective schedules, you could sympathize more with the other anytime they had to go somewhere urgent for work. It only made you savor every single second you spent together because of how much precious each one of them became.

The rest of lunch unraveled with the same bucket of smiles, jokes, and laughter. It felt good to finally tell the few people who meant the world in Spencer's life the truth about your relationship. It was also a huge relief to see them opening their arms and welcoming you into the family without an ounce of hesitation.

"Hotch?" Spencer called out after everyone exited the restaurant. "Will it be okay if I stay in the city for one more night?"

"As long as you promise to be back for tomorrow's briefing," Hotch reminded sternly, but the meaningful look he passed over you before he entered his vehicle spoke of a thousand things left unsaid.

"It was so nice meeting you," JJ said as she took you in her arms. "And I'm sorry again about your friend."

"Thank you. And thanks for all of your hard work in catching those guys."

"Of course, it's what we do." JJ smiled as she pulled away. "Invite me and Emily the next time you and Penelope hang out, okay?"

"Will do," you promised.

You watched as every single one of them scrambled into the two black SUVs, waving your goodbye until the cars drove out of your sight.

"I think that went well," you commented before looking up at Spencer. "Do you?"

"I think it went as well as it could."

"So--" you began, circling your arms around Spencer's neck, "--we have more than twelve hours until you're expected back at Quantico. What do you wanna do?"

Spencer nudged your nose with his. "I can think of a few activities we can partake in."

"Really?"

"Really."

Just as he was a hairbreadth away from pressing his lips to yours, you suddenly tore yourself out of Spencer's arms.

"Like getting some frozen yogurts?" you asked giddily, smirking at the dumbfounded look that you managed to put on Spencer's face.

"Fine. Let's go get some frozen yogurts."

Spencer had to hide his amused grin at your elated squeals. He was more than content at that moment to let you produce those addictive sounds at the mere prospect of frozen yogurts.

But later that night, he had a whole different set of activities lined up to pull those same sounds out of you once more.

And it might or might not potentially involve an entirely different yet creative use of frozen yogurts as well.

Spencer simply just hadn't decided yet.

[onlymexsarah]

Burning Flames III | Eris Vanserra

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!reader Summary: Since you became High Fae there were only two things that scared you: your deadly power and your attraction toward the male you should hate most after Tamlin, Eris Vanserra. Warnings: just Eris Vanserra and my english A/n: I would have never imagined that this story could ever be liked by someone, especially for my writing, but you are all so amazing and I thank you for all the sweet comments, they really make my day🫶🏻 if you want to be add at the taglist just ask!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Cold.

Darkness.

Water.

Everywhere around you was cold and dark. You were drowning in what felt like an endless pound of icy water.

You needed to get out.

Something ancient whispered in your ear, What do you need?

Fire. You almost screamed underwater. You wanted to pull away the water, to make it disappear. Give me fire.

The darkness around you almost laughed. I shall give you fire, then. It will make you protect and be protected. To heal, and to hurt. To joy, and to fear.

Then, something inside you exploded, and the whole word turned red.

***

"Why would you make Cassian your curtier just for me to be his babysitter?" You asked confused at Rhysand. "A babysitter who has not experience, by the way."

Cassian protested beside you, but Rhysand only grinned amused. "Because, dear Y/n, Queen Vassa had clearly expressed her wishes to deal with you as our human emissary."

That was true. As soon as the war had been over and the meeting had been going on for days, the human queen had approached you and said that she would consider you their human emissary. She had said that Feyre's story about your time of poverty had made her understand you were the right one for the job.

You hadn't complained. If there was a way you could help the Night Court and the human lands than you would do it blindly.

"We'll have fun." grinned wolfish Cassian at your side.

"I have no interest in telling you how to do your work..." Rhysand said casually. "But, if I may suggest, try not to kill Lucien on sight. He is trying to redeem his mistakes."

You rolled your eyes annoyed. It wasn't that you hated Lucien, but it was just that every time you saw him the memories of that day in Hybern come back in your head. How he had stood there doing nothing, for then declaring that your sister was his mate and pretended to be spared alive because of that. And of course the fact that he had left Tamlin hurting both physically and mentally your sister Feyre, without doing anything there too.

"I'll try my best." You gave Rhysand a fake smile before walking toward Mor, who would winnow you and Cassian to the house where Jurian, Vassa and Lucien lived.

As soon as you arrived in front of the house a strong scent of honey and burned wood hit your nose. Lucien must have just arrived, you thought annoyed. Beside you Mor made a face, declaring that she would not come with you but Rhysand would wait you for your return.

You and Cassian shared a curious look, but said nothing, knowing that Mor must had her reasons.

"Do you think she is fine?" you asked Cassian as soon as she vanished.

Cassian gave her a shrug. "She's Mor. She will speak when she feels ready."

You inclined your head slightly to one side confused. "It's not the first time I hear one of you saying 'they'll speak when they are ready', but sometime people need to be asked, you know?"

Cassian gave you a grin before knocking at the door. "Oh, Y/n. When you live centuries like us you start to prefer privacy more than you think. Sometime having few secrets is good."

You were about to answer when the door opened and Lucien looked at the two of you. "I thought I sensed someone else arriving."

It was stronger than you. You couldn't look at his face without seeing the King of Hybern, the cauldron, and your sisters throwed in it. So you just looked away, following Cassian inside the house where the scent grew stronger.

"You just got there?" asked Cassian casually, as if making small talk.

"No." Lucien said tightly as he lead them through the house. "Eris is here."

Every muscle in you almost froze at his words. Suddenly, you weren't so eager to enter the room and do the emissary. Suddenly, you felt too small. But you noticed that Cassian showed no emotions, even though you knew that deep inside he must be boiling with rage, and so you tried to do the same.

You noticed how Cassian's wings sprawled a bit wider, just enough to slightly cover you from any potential harm. And that harm, you guessed, would be the handsome redhaired male seated on a golden chair beside the fireplace. His legs was elegantly crossed, his clothes were far more finer than the ruined fighting leathers you had last seen him in. Everything about him screamed royalty, and your mind pointed out that your should stop staring.

"Cassian." Eris said with his usual arrogant voice, then his eyes shifted on you and even thought you betrayd nothing, something inside you stirred. "Older Archeron."

Your eyes narrowed. Older Archeron? Was he too full of himself that he thought you weren't important enought to acknowledge you? Surely a change from the day you had healed his wounds and he told you to go to him if you ever needed anything.

You felt Lucien's golden eyes studying the interaction between you, but thankfully a sweet, yet firm, voice took your attention. "Thank goddess you came." said Vassa from your left, making your eyes shift on her. "I thought I had to deal with all this testosterone alone."

A grin was quick to appear on your lips as the human Queen hugged you. "I think you would have handled them just fine." When you broke the hug you gave her a quick, respectful bow and Cassian followed you. "Your Majesty."

You heard Jurian scoffing from the sofa. "It only goes to her head when you call her that."

You watched amused as the two humans in the room started backering, and something about Lucien's behaviour told you that they always did that.

"Did you come with news or orders?" asked Lucien to the two of you while he sat on the sofa beside Jurian.

You had to hold a scoff at his tone. Lucien could fool everyone in the Inner Circle that he was on their side because of Elain, but you would never trust him completely. It was clear where his true alliance lay, mated or not mated.

“We give you orders as our emissary.” Cassian nodded to Jurian and Vassa. “But when you are with your friends, we only give suggestions.” Eris snorted, but Cassian ignored him. "How's the Spring Court."

Lucien’s face revealed nothing of how Tamlin and his court fared. “It’s fine.”

This time, you snorted crossing your arms, and to your surprise Eris did the same. You were almost offended that you had shared the same reaction as him.

Cassian turned toward Eris, annoyed. "What are you doing here?"

You were wondering the same, but you didn't dare to voice it, not really sure if it was safe to talk to him at all.

Eris didn’t so much as shift in his seat. “Several dozen of my soldiers were out on patrol in my lands several days ago and have not reported back. We found no sign of battle. Even my hounds couldn’t track them beyond their last known location.”

Cauldron boils you. You had happily forgotten how his voice seemed to pull some invisible strings all over your body, and you had to mentally slap yourself for even think that.

Vassa said, “Eris came to see if I could think of any reason why his soldiers might have gotten into trouble with humans. His hounds detected strange scents at the site of the abduction. Ones that seemed human, but were … odd, somehow.”

"Odd how?" you asked immediately looking at Vassa. If the humans were concerned then it was your job to keep track of what was happening.

"Odd like human but with something else." Eris answered, making your gaze shift on him. You were ashamed about how you had to stop the shiver that run through your spine as your eyes locked with his. "Like you." he sniffed the air to make a point. "High Fae, with something else."

You felt your cheeks getting warmer, and you hated that everyone was there to see it. So, you decided to shift the attention back on the matter at hand. "You mean like...Made? Like Jurian?" You said pointing to the human General with your chin.

"Not Made." Eris shook slightly his head, his eyes never leaving yours, as if you two were the only people in the room. "But something was off. I think plenty of parties are interested in triggering another war, and this would be the start of it. Though perhaps your court did it. I wouldn’t put it past Rhysand to winnow my soldiers away and plant some mysterious scents to throw us off.”

Cassian flashed him a savage grin. “We’re allies, remember?”

You could suddenly breath when Eris' attention shifted on Cassian and gave him an identical smile. “Always.”

Cassian couldn’t stop himself. “Maybe you made your own soldiers vanish, if they even vanished at all, and are just making this up for the same bullshit reason you just spewed out.”

Eris chuckled, and something inside you stirred. How many times had he been accused of being the villain? How many times people had pointed at him? He seemed so used to it, even when it was clear that he was not behind the disappearence of his soldiers.

Jurian cut in, “There have been tensions amongst the humans regarding your kind. But as far as we know, as far as we’ve heard from Lord Graysen’s forces, the humans here have kept to the old demarcation lines, and have no interest in starting trouble.”

Eris uncrossed his legs, and you had to call all your self control to not stare at him. “I suppose this could be to sow tensions amongst us. To make us eye each other with suspicion. Weaken our bonds.”

"Who would do something so bold?" asked Cassian beside you.

There were only one person who still sought revenge, who still hold a grudge so big that would risk a war.

"Briallyn." you said darkly. Images of the day in Hybern flashed before your eyes, and you stared at the blooming fireplace, hoping to wash them away. "She was the one who demanded for me and my sisters to be put in the Cauldron." A shiver run through your spine. "The Cauldron turned her into a crone. I wouldn't put past her to have some kind of weird power."

"Powers like yours?" asked Jurian watching you carefully.

Your eyes slowly rose to meet his, and you gave at the human a ironic smirk. "No power for me anymore." You lied smoothly, as you had done for the past months. You showed your hands in the air, as to make a point. "When the Cauldron was broken my powers left with him. I'm a normal, boring High Fae now."

If they had rose the sleeves of your dress they would have found burned flesh all over your wrists. The only sign that your power still remained in you, needing to be leashed out as you pushed it down everytime. The burnings were its way to warn you that it could not be contained for much longer.

When your sisters had declared that their powers had gone away, you found the perfect excuse to never use it again. It was punishing you, though. But burning up instead of risking to kill someone you care about seemed the right prize.

"Gone, you say?" Eris' inquiring voice made your blood almost froze. He was the only one who had seen you using your power after the Cauldron had been broken. You had been foolish, driven by some internal desire that was only dangerous and wrong.

You met his eyes, and despite the terror you were feeling inside at the thought that he might calling you out, you rose your chin and showed him nothing of that.

"Pity." he said with his velvet voice. "It would have been curious to see what you would be capable of."

His smirk. His damned smirk. He remembered it perfectly, you could see it in his flickering eyes. And now he was toying with you, seeing how far he could push.

"Tell your father he can sleep sweet dreams." I said matching his smirk. "I won't be humiliating him again any time soon."

"I bet he will." murmured Eris while he brought a finger to his lips.

His movements were so casual, so calculated, but at the same time so sensual. Were you the only one who found him attractive in everything he did? You surely hoped not, otherwise you would need Maja to check on you.

“Send that shadowsinger of yours to track Briallyn,” Jurian ordered, his face grave. “If she’s somehow capable of capturing a unit of Fae soldiers, we need to know how. Swiftly.”

Cassian said to Vassa, “You really think Briallyn would do something like this? Be that blatant? Someone has to be trying to fool us into going after her.”

Apparently the other queens had left Briallyn alone, informed Eris, and that excluded the option of winnowing for the queen.

“You wonder who is capable of making a unit of Fae soldiers across the sea vanish? Who could give Briallyn the power to winnow—or do it for her? Who could aid Briallyn so she’d be bold enough to do such a thing? Look to Koschei.” said Vassa darkly.

Something about the name made even the fire going quiet. As Vassa explained thet Koshei was a Death Lord you couldn't stop yourself but thinking about how you could protect Nesta from them. It was clear that Briallyn wanted revenge on your twin, and if she dared to ask to a Death Lord for help then you should prepare better.

You looked over Cassian, a hint of worry flickered in your gazes, and he silently gestured for the two of you to go away and warn Rhys.

"Thank you, Vassa." You said kindly with a quick bow. "We'll return with more informations."

You did to follow Cassian when a voice stopped you. "Wait..." Lucien said tentately. You watched him over your shoulder raising an eyebrow. "How is she?"

You narrowed your eyes and lifted your chin. "How is your precious friend?"

The words found easily their marks and you could see the moment they hit Lucien as if you had slapped him. The point was clear, as long as he devoted himself to the male who sold you and your sisters, you would never spare him the misery of knowing nothing about Elain.

You walked out of that house without saying another word, and saw Cassian waiting for you with a wolvish grin. "Poor Lucien, having you as sister-in-law must be a nightmare."

You rolled your eyes, used to Cassian's teasing. "Elain doesn't want him. He will never be my brother-in-law, thank the Mother."

"Your sister might be the luckiest of the four of you." A warm, luring voice said behind you. "Lucien had always been a good male. Propably better that any of your mates will ever be."

You scoffed turning around and facing Eris. He was leaning casually against the wall of the house with his usual grin on his face. You hated how the moolight made him look like the sort of dreams that must be kept secrets, but mostly you hated how you noticed those kind of things.

"As far as I am corcened only two of my sisters have a mate, and I would choose Rhysand over Lucien anytime." You challenged him crossing your arms.

A shadow crossed his eyes, but he hide it quickly with an amused face. "I see why Rhysand sent you to babysit the new courtier, you are indeed charming." You heard the mock in his voice, and you wanted to talk back, to annoy him as much as he annoyed you, but he spoke to Cassian next. "What do you know?"

"As little as you." offered Cassian, watching him carefully.

Eris sniffed the night breeze, and smiled. "She couldn't be bothered to come inside to say hello?"

You understood immediately that he was talking about Mor, and something inside you twisted. You felt ashamed. Ashamed that after what he had done to Mor, the one who helped you with your new body, with your new home and new life, you couldn't bring yourself to be repulsed by him, as you should have been.

As Eris proceeded to tell about how his father was helping Briallyn and Koshei, about how he didn't want to reveal anything in front of Vassa and Jurian, but still revealed it to you, you tried hard to find the monster that everyone pictured him to be. To find the selfish, horrible male that no one trusted. But the only thing you saw was a heir who wanted his court to be better, to overthrow a cruel father.

But you were young, the people around you had known him for five hundreds years, surely they would know him better than you could ever do.

The fact that under the cold mask you could see a good male meant nothing. You were imagining it. It was his velvet, seductive voice that made you think those things, that made you believe things that weren't real.

“Stick to fighting battles, General. Leave the ruling to those capable of playing the game.” said lastly Eris to Cassian. Did it make you crazy the fact that despite everything you found him amusing? "And, Little Flame?" you eyes snapped up to met his, the pet name made your eyes widing a little for the surprise. "Careful to whom you share your secrets. While secrecy suits you, lies don't."

Then, he vanished.

taglist: @adventure-awaits13 @blueeclipsepaperstudent @huffleruffplant @azysmate @bia-wayne-west @babypeapoddd @lady-targaryens-world

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The Uptown Girl and The Brooklyn Boy

Pairing: Greaser!Bucky Barnes x Uptown Girl!Reader Summary: Everyone knows that all any Uptown Girl needs is a Greaser from Brooklyn to make her forget all about her uptown world.

A.N. - Here's a long awaited request from one of my dearest readers @oneofstarkskids, it definitely strayed a little from that initial request but i hope you enjoy! "just reread this and it's still so amazing 😭 do you take requests? if so, would you be inclined to writing a grease themed bucky au one shot?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

Picture this... he's from the wrong side of the tracks. He's everything every mother in your neighborhood warned you about. His hands perpetually stuffed in his pockets, a cigarette hanging from his lips, scuffed leather jacket snug around his broad shoulders.

You're none of those things, the complete opposite. Pearls strung around your neck. Perfectly done up, lips painted the perfect rouge. You're as educated as a woman could be in your day and age. You're an Uptown girl. Capital O - Old Money.

Your friends are enamored with Bucky Barnes and his friends - though you all know they'll never do anything about. Not as long as their parents had anything to say about it. And none of them are prepared to give up their high class life. It's just fun for them. A way to sow some wild oats before their parents introduce them to their future husbands.

Every chance they get, they pester you to take the long way home. To walk by that mechanic shop where Bucky and his friends hang out.

They never approach those Brooklyn boys. No, they never offer more than a coy smile and a languid, flirty twinkle of their manicured fingers. They just relish in the attention they get from walking past them.

You hate it. You hate their arrogance. You hate the smell of nicotine that hangs around him. You hate everything about them, down to those oddly charming Brooklyn accents.

"Hey," a blonde boy calls as you and your best friend walk past their mechanic shop one day. "Hey!"

"I told you this was a bad idea," you hiss at your friend, locking your arm with hers. "Now, look."

"I think they want to talk to us," she squeals under her breath.

He picks up his stride, doing a half jog until he reaches where your friend holds you hostage on the pavement. "We see you ladies passin' through every once in a while. Thought we could be friends or somethin'."

Your friend is immediately entranced with the blonde boy. Her face flushes as she beams at him, "We would love that!"

"We have enough friends," you simultaneously reply.

"She's kidding," your friend nervously chuckles, elbowing you in your ribs.

The blonde boy laughs, rubbing the back of his neck, "Well, I'm Steve. My friend there is Bucky."

As if on cue, Bucky saunters up beside Steve with an equally arrogant grin. He tips his head at each of you. "Hello, ladies."

Your friend nods at the two of them, an ear to ear grin taking up her entire face. "It's nice to meet you, Steve, Bucky."

The brunette's eyes flash over to you, speaking through that infuriating smirk, "Pleasure's ours."

"Would you ladies like to join us for a Coke?" Steve offers.

"We'd love to!" she immediately replies.

You shoot your friend an intense, incredulous glare. "I'm sorry, could you excuse us for a second?"

"Sure thing." Steve nods, ambling away from you and your friend to give you a moment of privacy.

Bucky doesn't move an inch. He stands before you with that same arrogant smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I'm good right here."

"Fine," you scoff, speaking as bluntly as you can. Despite your polite upbringing, you you find don't care about offending him in the slightest. "We are not staying here!"

"Come on," she pleads. "What's the harm?"

"Where's the good in staying?" you shoot back.

"They're just so handsome," she fawns, looking over her shoulder to give a coy wave to the blonde boy. "And there's one for the both of us, it's fate!"

"It's not fate. They're nothing but trouble."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "You remember that I'm still right here, right?"

You shoot a glare at Bucky. "I know."

He playfully clutches his chest. "You're hurtin' my feelings, Doll."

You can feel the anger raising your blood's temperature. You don't like how quickly he's gotten underneath your skin. "I'm not your Doll."

"Princess?" he suggests with an infuriating wag of his eyebrows.

There's an embarrassingly large part of you that wants to stamp your foot at him and yell at him to stop teasing you. You keep it together just enough to contain that visceral reaction you're having to Bucky Barnes. Mostly. "I'm not your anything!"

He crosses his arms over his chest. "What did I ever do to you, Princess?"

Your eyes narrow in accusation. "I know your type."

"Charming? Irresistibly handsome?"

"Horrendously arrogant," you seethe at him. You turn back to your friend, only to find her missing, "Now, can we please go-"

"Your friend ran off the second you were focused on me."

Your eyes flicker to behind Bucky to your friend, who sure enough is enthralled in a conversation with Steve. "I was not focused on you!"

"Then why didn't you notice your friend runnin' away from you?"

"You're incorrigible."

The corner of Bucky's lips twitch up. "Didn't they teach you in that finishing school that it's not polite to insult people who are tryin' to be your friend?"

"And how would you know that I went to finishing school?"

He quirks an eyebrow at you like the answer is obvious. His eyes rake over you. From the way you hold yourself. To the dresses that oozed quiet luxury. You and Bucky were as different as night and day. "I know an uptown girl when I see one."

"And I know trouble when I see it," you shoot back. "And you Brooklyn boys are nothing but trouble."

It only gets worse from there. After that first interaction, your friend in fully infatuated with Steve Rogers. There is no tearing her away from him.

And that means, as your friend's dutiful alibi, you were dragged down to Brooklyn far more than you ever wanted.

And worst of all, it meant you spent most of your free time in the presence of Bucky Barnes.

"Please, just be nice," your friend begs as you trudge up to their garage. "I'd settle for polite even."

You scoff at her, rolling your eyes, "I'm always polite - just like I'm always nice."

"Not to Bucky, you're not."

"I don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, walking into the garage. Your friend takes off, immediately falling into the arms of Steve Rogers. Leaving you with Bucky Barnes to sit with him on the the couch that's become your most constant companion on days like today. As you walk past Bucky, you snipe, "James."

Bucky quirks a brow, smirking at you, "Oh, so now I'm James?"

"That's your name, isn't it?"

He walks away from the bike he spends most of his time working on, snatching a rag from his tool bench and wiping his hands of motor grease. Your eyes involuntarily wander to his hands, the care he puts into wiping each and every one of his fingers.

You stare for a second too long for Bucky not to notice you staring at his hands. "Remind me to thank Steve for tellin' ya that."

You roll your eyes, finally snapping out of it. "It's far better than the alternative."

He flicks the rag over, resting it on his shoulder. "So you like my name?"

You softly snort as you settle onto the couch. "I didn't say that. I said it was better than the alternative."

That smirk only gets even bigger. "What else do ya like about me?"

You roll your eyes. "Not a thing."

He settles into the couch beside you. Far too close for your liking. You can almost feel the rough denim of his jeans through your skirt. "I just love these conversations of ours."

"I don't."

His entire torso turns towards you, mischief and amusement gleaming in those blue eyes, "I mean, why would I want warmth and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

"It's not blind hatred." In spite of easily Bucky gets under your skin, you can't deny just how unfairly handsome he is. Even now, you find yourself lost in the depths of his ocean blue eyes. "It's perfectly reasonable contempt."

He gently runs a finger down your cheek. "I love when you talk smart to me."

You swat his hand away from your face. "Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" Bucky insists. "I really love it! I know it's just your way of flirting with me!"

You scoff, making no attempt to hide your offense, "I am not flirting with you!"

He tilts his head at you, that arrogant smirk once again tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Come on, just admit it, Doll. You're a little sweet on me."

"I am not your Doll!" You fly up out of your seat with an indignant huff. "And I most certainly am not sweet on you!"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way you stare at me when I walk around here without a shirt. Or the way you were staring at my hands just now. What exactly were you picturin' my hands doin'?"

"I was not picturing anything." Your cheeks flame as you continue to bicker back and forth with him. Sure, he was possibly the most gorgeous man you'd ever laid eyes on. And yes, he could be incredibly charming. And sometimes, you found yourself staring at him in an not so innocent way. But you hated him. He infuriated you to no end. "And I was not staring!"

The grin is practically splitting his face. "And you've definitely thought about kissin' me."

"I would rather walk from here to Jersey than kiss you."

He slides up off the couch, taking a long step towards you. "You've got a hell of a temper, you know that?"

You refuse to back down. You press an accusing finger into his chest. You can't help but notice just how firm the muscles underneath that white t-shirt are. "I just think you're real good at pushing my buttons."

"Real good?" Bucky teases. "I think Brooklyn is startin' to rub off on you."

"You know what I think?" Your chest starts to heave with the anger and frustration you feel towards Bucky Barnes. "I think that you're the last person I would ever let rub off on me. I think that you're an arrogant smart ass that likes to spend his day running his mouth."

"And I think you're a repressed priss that couldn't take what she wanted 'less it's handed to her on a silver platter."

"You wouldn't know a damn thing about what I want."

"You wanna know what I think..." He leans closer, lowering himself to your eye level. "I think that you're pissed off because you know deep down those punk ass rich boys will never make ya happy, I think you're pissed off 'cause you're bored, and I think you're pissed off 'cause you want me - even if you'll never admit it."

You don't have a response to that. There's not a single word that comes to mind. You don't think you've ever been this mad before.

And because you can't think of a single word to assuage your heaving chest and boiling blood, you do something that a polite, good girl like you would never even dreaming of doing. Before you can think, you find your hand opening and winding back.

Before you can even make contact with his cheek, he catches your hand, gripping your wrist between his warm, calloused hand. He hauls you forward until you stumble into his chest.

For a moment, you can almost hear a pin drop. The tension is so thick the only air in the room Bucky's breath dancing across your lips. "I think I'm gonna kiss you."

A soft breath stutters from your lips. "And I think I'm gonna let you."

You weren't sure what it was, but after that first kiss, you couldn't get enough of your Brooklyn boy. Even after your friend and Steve had mostly fizzled out, you couldn't get enough of him.

You waited for the moment that they all talked about, the moment when you had your fill of the boy from the wrong side of tracks, when your wild oats were sufficiently sowed, but it never came.

Every time you laid eyes on him, the seal on your fate only solidified more and more. The more you saw him, the more you wanted him. And the more sure you were that you would never be able to let him go.

You weren't a stranger to the boredom and monotony of your upper echelon life, but this was different. This wasn't boredom, he wasn't a distraction. From the moment you met Bucky, you lost all interest in the upper echelon of it all.

Suddenly, you don't care what your friends think, what your parents would think. Suddenly, you were throughly repulsed by the thought of marrying one of those repressed, trust fund babies that littered your street.

And even your friends, the same ones that lived off their fleeting attention, didn't understand.

Your friend rolls her eyes again, a sigh of irritation leaving her lips as you ready to go meet Bucky, "Are you really going back up there?"

"You're the reason I met him in the first place!"

"I know. I know," she groans, clearly disappointed that you hadn't lost interest in Bucky like she had with Steve. "And I'm happy for you! I am! I just I want to make sure..."

Her tone finally gets your full attention. You put your bag down on the table, your eyebrow pulled together, "Make sure what?"

"You're just sowing wild oats, right?"

Your entire face puckers with distaste, "What?"

"That sounded bad," she backtracks, a guilty look painting her face. She takes a deep breath, resting a condescending hand on your shoulder. "You just - you know your future isn't with Bucky, right?"

You shake her hand off your shoulder. "What does that mean?"

"He's from a different world than we are. You know that."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," you scoff. "I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Come on, he's not exactly the sort of guy you can bring home to your parents."

You snort, turning away from her, "I have to go."

"You know I'm right!" she calls after you.

You didn't know that. In fact, the more time you spent with him, the more you saw why he was exactly the right person to bring home to your parents. He was everything you could ever bring yourself to hope for and more. Sure, he was different than you and your family, but he was a good man. He was perfect for you.

Surely, your parents could see that. Surely, they could see how good he was for you.

So that's exactly what you were going to do.

Bucky sighs against your lips, "I missed ya."

You don't know when that happened, but you've come to find a comfort in the scent of the faded leather of his jacket, in the feeling of his calloused fingertips trailing dangerously high on your upper thigh.

In the backseat of his beloved car, you curl closer into his side, resting your head on his chest, "Me too."

He kisses the top of your head, watching as you stare off into the distance, "What's goin' on in that pretty head of yours?"

You pull back slightly, lifting your head off his chest. With a furrowed brow, you ask him, "How serious are you about me?"

"Dead serious," he replies in an instant.

You lightly swat his chest. "Quit playing."

"'M not playin'," he swears. He does an 'x' over his heart, "Cross my heart."

His answer gives you all the reassurance you need. All there was to do was ask him. Still, there was a hesitancy. You worry that this will just make him realize that you two might just be insurmountably, irreconcilably different. You decide that the best way to ask is just ask. "Then what would you say about meeting my parents?"

"I'd love to," Bucky coolly answers.

You can't help the way your face lights up with hope. "Really?"

"Of course. Anything for my girl."

You really like the way that sounds. His girl. You could get used to being his girl.

The look on your face is worth it all to Bucky. He only hopes you don't see the anxiety in his expression.

He wasn't oblivious to how different your worlds were. He knew there was a good chance that this wouldn't last forever. It didn't really matter what he wanted or how much he was willing to fight for you, he knew the reality of it all.

He couldn't offer you half of what someone in your neighborhood could. Your worlds couldn't be more different.

And he's never been more aware of it than on the eve of meeting your parents.

Steve smirks at Bucky as he fiddles with his tie again. "You're really seein' this through, aren't you?"

Bucky smacks Steve upside his head. "Don't be a jerk."

"I'm just sayin'," Steve shrugs, settled into the couch of Bucky's family home. "I'm happy for ya, Buck. You really like this girl."

"I wouldn't be dressed like this for anyone else. Are you sure this is right?" Bucky tugs at his tie again. Maybe it was that the suit hadn't seen the light of day in a few years and was a little more snug than he remembered. Or maybe it was just that he'd only dressed like this for funerals and weddings, but everything about his getup today made him feel like a fraud. He was sure if your parents saw him like this, they'd see right through him. "I feel like I'm goin' to a school dance."

"Where does she live again?"

Bucky tries his best to hide his wince. He'd never been to your side of town, but he'd heard stories. Sure, most of them were made up, but there had to be some truth buried in the tall tales. "Upper West Side."

Steve pats his shoulder. "Stick with the tie, Buck."

He listens to Steve's advice and sticks with the tie. As he walks through your neighborhood, seeing houses bigger than entire apartment buildings on his block that line your street, he's pretty confident in trusting Steve up until the moment he sees you.

Your smile stutters as you see him waiting outside the gate of your home. It was just his luck that your house was one of the biggest on the block. Your eyes trail up and down Bucky's uncharacteristic attire. "What are you wearing?"

His heart sinks. He looks down, patting his blazer and tie. "Am I - Am I not this thing right? I knew it - I told Steve -"

"No, no," you quickly interject. "You look great! I've just never seen you... like this."

"What's wrong with this?" Bucky hedges.

Your soft smile up at him is the only thing soothing his knotted stomach. "Nothing, I - I just wanted them to meet you, to meet the Bucky that I know and - and I want them to know you. Not whoever this is."

"I - I didn't think they would like that Bucky very much," Bucky confesses.

It doesn't escape you that he's nervous, especially as he fiddles with this tie over and over again. You're well aware of how intimidating this all is. Even as someone who grew up in this social circle, in the thick of the upper echelon, you still found yourself scared of doing and saying the wrong thing.

You knew he was only trying to fit in as best as he could. Still, you missed the smell of his leather jacket, the waft of motor oil that often clung to his skin. "Well, I like you the way you are. Greaser and all."

"Thanks." It's comforting to him. Still, as his eyes rove over your house, he can't help but be glad he listened to both Steve and his mother. He holds out the bouquet of flowers in his hand. "My Ma told me to bring these for your Ma."

An endeared smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. He was really trying to win over your parents. He really was serious about this - about you. "My mother will love this."

"Your mother," Bucky corrects himself, doing his best to tame his Brooklyn twang.

"Just be yourself," you assure him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as you make your way up the long driveway. "No one else, just you."

"Any other tips?"

"If you run out of things to talk about ask my father about his cars. He collects them."

It takes everything in Bucky not to gape like a fish out of water. "He collects... cars?"

You ignore his question, continuing to fill Bucky in on your parents, "And my mother, well, she's a terrible gossip. If you can get her talking about her friends, you've won her over."

"Okay. Anything else?"

"Just relax. They'll love you."

As he walks into your home, greeted by a man wearing a nicer suit than he is who offered to take his coat from him, Bucky's not quite sure he believes you.

Your heels click against the sleek marble flooring as you guide him through your home. He holds on tight to your hand, half afraid that you'll let go and he'll get lost in the labyrinth of pristine beige hallways.

Your father is the first to greet Bucky in your living room. He extends a hand out to Bucky. "You must be the boy we've heard so much about."

"It's nice to meet you both," Bucky returns the firm handshake before turning to your mother with the warmest smile he can muster through his anxiety. "You have a lovely home, ma'am. I brought these for you."

She takes the bouquet from Bucky's hand. "Oh, that's very kind of you..."

"Oh, it's Bucky," he supplies.

"Bucky?" your mother dubiously repeats. "How unique..."

"It's James, actually," Bucky corrects himself, already feeling himself getting flustered. "James Buchanan Barnes. 's where Bucky comes from."

Your mother nods, offering a tight smile, "How lovely."

As your mother hands off the flowers to one of the wait staff, he can't help but already feel like he's already made that dreaded bad first impression.

As though you can see the despair forming in the pit of his stomach and dampening the glimmer in his blue eyes, you give his hand a squeeze along with a smile.

"Dinner is ready," your mother announces. "Why don't we make our way to the dining room?"

"That sounds wonderful," you beam, leading Bucky into the next room. You stutter to a stop just before the dining table. You look at the table as you take your seat, your eyebrows furrowed at something that Bucky hasn't quite caught on to. "Mother? I thought we agreed on a more simple menu tonight."

As you speak you reach under the table, giving Bucky's hand an apologetic squeeze. Just from your inflection, Bucky can tell what awaits him will not be pleasant.

"Nonsense." She dismissively waves you off. "We have a guest."

"We talked about this," you admonish. "You promised."

"Bucky?" your mother calls. "Do you mind having a more formal dinner? I know it might be a tad unusual for you."

"Mother," you sharply warn.

"Um, no, ma'am," Bucky awkwardly lilts. "That sounds lovely."

A self satisfied smirk settles on your mother's face. "See? It's fine."

"Why are there so many forks?" Bucky whispers under his breath.

"Just work your way in," you reply as quietly as you can.

"Do you change forks every bite or somethin'?" It's half an attempt at a joke, half an honest question.

"In between courses."

"Courses?"

Before you can answer Bucky's question, your mother is already beginning her interrogation. "So, James, tell us about yourself."

"There's not much to tell," Bucky replies. "I was born and raised down in Brooklyn."

Your father snorts, "Really?"

You're not quite sure if Bucky catches the sarcastic lilt to your father's question or if he really does just try to rise above it. It's hard to tell with how he rolls with the punches. "Yes, sir."

"Any siblings?" your mother asks.

"I'm the oldest of four, ma'am."

"Any plans for your life?" your father finally pipes in.

"Dad," you hiss.

Your father shrugs, "It's an honest question."

Once again, it rolls off of Bucky's back. "Well, I'm workin' at a garage right now. Me and my friend, Steve, we're hopin' to buy it out. We've just about saved enough between the two of us to buy it from the ol' man when he's ready to retire."

"A man with a plan. I like that."

"Thank you, sir." You're sure that you hear Bucky's sigh of relief as he finds his footing. You can practically see his signature smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Your daughter tells me that you have an impressive collection yourself."

You weren't entirely sure how he pulled it off, but by the end of the night, Bucky is talking to your parents like they're old friends.

You're not even sure why you're that surprised, you hated him up until the moment you succumbed to his charm.

As the evening comes to a close, he stands in the doorway, shaking your father's hand again, offering your mother that charming grin once more, "Thank you for dinner. Everything was delicious."

"You're welcome back anytime, James."

"Thank you." You're almost shocked at your mother's open invitation. He presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "I'll see ya later."

The three of you stand in the foyer of your house as Bucky walks down the steps and down the driveway with his hands shoved in his pockets. You look up to your father, face filled with hope. "So?"

"He's a nice boy."

You're not sure your grin can get any bigger. "I really like him."

"You'll grow out of it."

Your heart sinks the moment the words leave your father's mouth. "What?"

"It can't come soon enough," your mother groans. "You're far too good for him."

"You don't know him."

"We know his type, dear," your mother condescendingly sighs. "And good girls like you don't belong with boys like that, but I do think it was sweet of you to invite your little infatuation to dinner."

You feel like all the air has been knocked out of you. For a moment tonight, you really thought they were coming around. You truly thought it would all work out for the best. "Infatuation?"

"That's what this is, right?" your father asks, concern painting his expression when he sees the furiously determined look in your face. "You're just... rebelling?"

You look up at your father, shaking your head. "No, no, I'm not just rebelling."

You fought with them the whole night before you went to find him the very next day. They threatened you with everything they could think of. When that didn't work, they bribed you with everything they could think of. You didn't care for any of it.

The moment you see him, you know he knows. You're not sure if he realized it the moment he walked out of your door or if it took him a quick recollection of the night to realize it, but he knows all the same. It looks like he hasn't slept a wink. A deep frown replaces his usual grin. He looks entirely and totally distraught.

He notices you the moment you walk up to his garage just like you did all those times before.

This time, it's obvious is different. There aren't barbed words or verbal jabs. You don't bound into his arms. Even Steve offers you a sad twitch of his lips.

Bucky watches you for a long moment before you break the silence. He reaches into his pocket, lighting a cigarette in between his fingers. "Hi."

"They hated me, right?" He doesn't waste words. Your lips press together in a tight line. He takes a large drag from his cigarette. You can't remember the last time you saw him smoking. He shakes his head, hissing under his breath, "Damn it..."

"Bucky?"

He takes another large pull from his cigarette. Even from feet away, you can smell the nicotine in the air. "Just do it. I understand."

"What?"

"That's why you're here, right? Just get it over with."

Your eyebrows furrow. "I don't understand."

"I'm not an idiot, alright?" he spits. "I know I didn't pass their little test, so just call it already."

"Is that really what you thought last night was?"

"What else would you call last night? 'Cause I think I was the butt of the joke from beginnin' to end."

"You were not the butt of the joke, Bucky."

"Oh, please, I fell face first into their punchline."

You suck in a shaky breath, both your own hurt and the cloud of smoke around Bucky burning at your throat, "Is that what you think of me? That I was tryin' to set you up?"

"Yes! No- No! I just - I - Don't you see it?"

"See what?" you demand.

"That I'm not good enough for you!" he desperately exclaims, tossing his cigarette on the pavement. "And everyone else already knows it! Last night proved that!"

"My parents are assholes, Bucky. I came here to apologize for them, to tell you that I don't care what they think."

His voice quiets, the anger melts off his words until all that's left is a heartbreaking sincerity, "You should. You deserve so much more than what I can give you."

"They don't know you, but I do." You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers with his. "And I think you've got everything I want. I'm yours, Bucky. All yours."

"Do you mean that?"

"Every word."

"What did I do to deserve you? My perfect girl." He kisses the back of the hand he hods, using it to tug you closer to him. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him. "What?"

You wrinkle your nose at him. "I hate the smell of smoke."

"I'll quit," he immediately replies.

"You'll quit smoking? Just like that?"

"That surprise you?"

"It's just - Maybe you Brooklyn boys aren't as tough as you think you are," you tease.

He smirks. "Maybe we're not. Maybe I'm not - but I think it's because I'm in love with an Uptown girl."

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[luvyeni]

( reaction ) how yandere enha keeps you under control ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ what enhypen does to keep you stuck inside ヾ

yandere!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ horror ‎, angst ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎n/a ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. what personal measures do u think each member of enhypen takes to keep you with them? like for example having cameras 24/7 to watch you or like having pre planned traps rdy for u when u try to escape? yandere pls🙏

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 thank you for requesting i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

cameras all around the house; no area is uncovered. he can see you at all times , when you wake up , when you're sleeping , even when you're showering. he checks those cameras all the time , and if he isn't home , he locks the door to the bedroom , there's a bathroom , a mini fridge and a tv programmed with spywear he can control. you don't need anything else , and you have no business going outside anyway

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung﹚ .ᐟ

knows he can't just leave you tied up— besides where is the fun in that? so he installed an alarm that is triggered by the front door opening. the alarm is so loud it can be heard from down the hall of your apartment together, and enough to spook you back into the apartment which immediately makes the alarm shuts off. it also sends a message to his phone , so he knows you tried to leave , so you can't lie to him.

﹙ 𐙚 : jay﹚ .ᐟ

those pretty diamond earrings he bought you? yeah there's trackers inside each of them — trackers that goes off the moment you try and leave the front door , he watches you in between his meetings , he even knows where you are inside the house he's not stupid , he knows if you take them off too , don't think he's stupid , that's exactly why he bought you a pretty gold bracelet that you can never take off , which also contains a tracker… so it's safe to say he'll never not know where you are.

﹙ 𐙚 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

jake is delusional , he has everything; cameras, alarm systems — you even wear a bracelet that has a tracker inside. even with all that he still chooses to work from home to keep an eye on you , he just doesn't believe all that would work so if you do try and get out of the apartment he'll stop you and work on his try where he basically manipulates you stay.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon﹚ .ᐟ

sunghoon doesn't need any tactics or alarms to keep you by his side; you love your family right? your friends are doing good right? he knows that and that's how he keeps you. you want to leave? go ahead and he'll kill someone close to you. would he ever do it? kill someone you hold so close to you? he doesn't know , you always come back before he can even get to the best part — trust he's waiting for you to break the rules far enough for him to try , your best friend has been getting on his nerves.

﹙ 𐙚 : sunoo﹚ .ᐟ

sunoo trusts you, he loves you and he knows you'd never leave him — that security alarm is only there just in case. he knows you get frustrated and want to take really long walks and he doesn't trust the people outside , they'll hurt you so he needs this alarm to keep you safe , even if the alarm is in your bedroom , and is only on when he's not home , or if he's about to take a nap or if you've run away a few days prior.

﹙ 𐙚 : ni-ki﹚ .ᐟ

much like sunghoon; ni-ki doesn't use cameras or alarms. he thinks there stupid even, if you can't control your girlfriend do you even deserve to have one? at first in the early stages of your relationship he'd use a rope to die you up. but as your relationship grew and he became more and more dangerous, you soon were too afraid to leave , all he had to do was give you that look , the that he's not above hitting you look and you're obeying him , he'd never hit you , but he's thrown enough things to scare you into thinking he would.

©LUVYENI

[oct0bra1ns]

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ, I was wondering if I could request a yandere CEO who's well known to be the most powerful in the town and y/n who was offered to him and had a evolveving relationship?

Endless riches

pairing: Yandere CEO x reader TW: , yanderes, violence against others, notes : HIIII, HELLOOOO nananananan, brain empty reblogs and comments are appreciated!

♡ Yandere CEO who was handed down his position from his father, who used his status and looks to get with people, have his fun and leave them.

♡ Yandere CEO who's promiscuous behaviour was giving the company a questionable name and his father an endless amount of stress.

♡ Yandere CEO who's father threatens to rip the company from his hands unless he starts acting properly and finally settle down with someone to save face.

♡ Yandere CEO who picks you from the endless pile of candidates. Who uses his money to convince your parents to give you to him.

♡ Yandere CEO who doesn't mind when your defy everything he asks of you, who suddenly has a patience of a saint when dealing with you as opposed to when he's dealing with idiots.

♡ Yandere CEO who loves to buy you the most expensive items he can find, who funds all your activities and hell, he'll even pay for your college if you ever want to study anything.

♡ Yandere CEO who'll give you a job in his company if you insist on working and earning your own money. Though, it doesn't matter, he'll still cover all your expenses.

♡ Yandere CEO who adores having you on his arm during social events to show off, who flaunts your beauty everywhere but the moment anything comes too close, he'll make sure their company ends up bankrupt.

♡ Yandere CEO who makes sure everyone in town knows you're his. People don't have the courage to mess with you in fear they'll end up with no money.

♡ Yandere CEO who's pleasantly surprised when you finally accept your role as his spouse, making him meals, asking how his day was. Of course good behaviour deserves to be rewarded, as such he takes you out for dates more frequently know that he doesn't have to worry about you running off.

♡ Yandere CEO who books out the entire hotel if you're too nervous to eat In front of people or just don't like the noise.

♡ Yandere CEO who makes sure you never lack anything in life <3

[cece693]

You're Just Jealous of Me

pairing: the salvatore brothers x male reader tags: reader knows he's manipulative and a slut, you just don't care tbh, Elena has an aneurysm from not being the main character, the brothers know they're getting played, you're just that hot/beautiful/perfect for them to give you up, Elena bashing, no incest

"I can't believe you." Elena exclaimed, her eyes growing misty as you were getting ready to head out with Damon on a date. It hadn't even been a week since they broke up (something about her needing stability or some other bullshit) and you didn't care. All that mattered was getting through yet another 'poor me' moment without killing her and making it seem like an accident.

Seriously, what did your sister expect? That Damon was going to stay single for the rest of his days until she made a fucking choice between him and Stefan? Perhaps some of her betrayal stemmed from the fact that Stefan had also rejected her ass and had made it clear he didn't feel anything for her anymore. So now poor Elena had no one while you played with both brothers.

And it wasn't even 'playing' per se if they knew about the whole situation. You could fuck any of them, and they'll be fine with it—a thing you made clear to them when this whole thing started. You liked both brothers, but having to choose just one was unfair—they both had traits that attracted you, and if you couldn't have both, then you'll settle for nothing. Like eager children they agreed. The arrangement was abnormal to others, but for you it worked—you dated both brothers, they still hated each other (entertaining fights arising from their competitiveness on who you liked more, who was 'rocking' your world, etc.) Simple really.

"Save the tears for the pillow, sister. I’m really not in the mood—nor will I ever be—to entertain your pity parties." Pulling on one of Damon’s leather jackets, you smirked. You were a sight to behold—not only would Damon be eager to rip the clothes off you, but half the population would, too.

It was fun stirring the pot, watching Damon bare his teeth at anyone who thought they stood a chance. Jealousy was his kryptonite, and while a part of you hated targeting one of his insecurities, you always reassured him in bed of your devotion, loyalty, and love.

Yes, because at the end of the day, you loved both Salvatore brothers. This wasn't just some passing fantasy, nor was it some revenge scheme against your sister (though you did love tormenting her with the fact that you were dating the two). You were willing to throw away your human life to become a vampire—to spend eternity by their side.

"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to cause this!" Now there was the Elena you knew all too well—the one who constantly placed themselves as the victim, putting blame unto you because who could ever hate a girl who lost her parents?

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. “You really want to go there?” you snap, not bothering to hide the derision in your voice. “Fine. For starters, you’ve always made Jeremy and me feel like shit, and the few times you did act like a decent human being were just so you didn’t look like a total bitch.”

“That’s not true!” she protests, anger tightening her features.

“It is, Elena,” you spit back. “When our parents died, you didn’t do a damn thing to help us cope. You were so wrapped up in your own grief, your own fucking melodrama, that you never once checked on Jeremy or me—unless, of course, it was to nag us about how we were coping. When Jeremy started doing drugs, you freaked the fuck out. Not because you cared, but because you were afraid of how it might make you look. God forbid anyone sees that the 'perfect' Elena Gilbert can’t keep her family together or help her brother kick his drug habit.”

She flinches, but you weren't done. Oh, no. You were just beginning to go down the list of why you hated her ass. "Then, when I began to hook up with Damon, you acted like I was the cause of our parents death—no, that's on you because Elena couldn't help herself and got drunk, needing a ride home at midnight. Sleeping with Damon was like I'd personally betray you."

Her cheeks flush crimson. “Well, you did! You—”

“I did what, Elena?” You take a step forward, towering over her. “I moved on? Found something that might actually make me happy? Meanwhile, you’ve been stringing both Damon and Stefan along for God knows how long. You made your choice—you dumped Damon, tried getting back with Stefan, when he told you to fuck off, you tried going back to Damon and he said the same thing. So now you’re standing here, arms crossed, lip trembling, trying to put the blame on me because you lost your backup plan.”

Her lips press into a thin line, eyes brimming with tears. But you’ve seen this act before—she’ll blink prettily, glance away like a wounded animal, and wait for you to console her. Only this time, you won't.

“You are an asshole,” she hisses, eyes narrowed into slits. “He was mine first.”

That makes you laugh, a harsh sound echoing off the hallway walls. “Right...possessive much? People aren’t property, Elena. He’s not a damn handbag you lend out when it suits you. If Damon wants to be with me, that’s his call. And if I want to keep him, that’s mine.”

She trembles, either from anger or heartbreak—you can’t tell, and frankly, you don’t care. “Why would you do this?” she asks again, her voice cracking. “What have I ever done—”

You rolled your eyes so hard you got a slight headache. "Did you even listen to me? I have every reason to hate you, so does Jeremy and the rest of Mystic Falls. Those who continue to stand by you are either stupid or hope they'll get some attention from your desperate ass. I'm done. I’m done letting you guilt-trip me. I’m done tiptoeing around your precious feelings. I’m fucking over it, Elena.”

Just then, Damon appears in the doorway, that trademark smirk on his face. “Ready?” he asks, taking in the tension between you two. His gaze flicks to the tears glistening in her eyes before returning to you. “I’m guessing we’re skipping the family therapy session?”

“Therapy? More like the mandatory guilt trip, which I’ve politely declined.”

Elena’s voice wavers, “Damon, how can you just—”

He cuts her off with a raised hand, posture casual but his eyes dangerously dark. “Stop, Elena. What we had is over. You made that choice before, remember? I’m done letting you waltz in and out of my life whenever it’s convenient for you.” You can practically feel the hatred radiating off her in waves. She’s not used to being shut down, especially not by Damon, the semi-reformed bad boy who once hung on her every word. It must sting. Oh, well. Her loss.

“As much as I loved talking to you, sister, I do believe we're running late. Don't wait up and please, if you're going to continue crying, leave my room. Keep wallowing if you want. Hell, cry yourself a fucking river. Just don’t stain my carpet.” Without another glance at Elena, you brush past Damon, and he steps aside for you to lead. He follows, closing the door behind you both, leaving your sister alone in her silence.

You descend the porch steps and greet the night air with a sigh of relief, reveling in the silence that isn’t tainted by Elena’s incessant whining. Damon slips an arm around your shoulders, guiding you toward his car parked beneath a streetlamp. His touch is warm, confident—like he’s proud of the chaos you’ve left behind.

“She’ll get over it,” he says, glancing at you with one of those trademark smirks that used to make Elena weak at the knees. Now, it just fuels your own sense of dark satisfaction.

“She’d better,” you mutter. “I’m not putting up with her drama anymore. If she wants to play the victim, she can do it alone. I’ve got better things to do.”

Damon’s grin widens. “That’s the spirit. So, where are we headed, anyway? We never actually nailed down the specifics.”

You shrug, placing an arm around his waist and snuggling closer to his side. “Anywhere but here. Got a craving for something stiff—drink or otherwise.” The innuendo doesn’t slip past him. His eyes flash with interest, and you can’t deny that thrill you get from watching Damon Salvatore light up over you instead of your sister.

“Sounds like the Grill for starters,” he suggests with a casual tilt of his head. “They might have a halfway decent bourbon I can drown myself in. As for the ‘otherwise,’ well…” He lets the sentence hang, the possibility of later events sparking arousal for the both of you.

You’re about to respond when you spot Stefan leaning against Damon's Camaro. Typical. Even without super-hearing, you know he’s probably caught every word you exchanged with Elena. Damned vampires. "What are you doing here?" Damon was the first who spoke, hand tightening over your body. As if he was a child preventing his favorite toy to be taken away from him.

"Nothing, really. I was just walking around the neighborhood and saw your car parked. But now that I see you're here with my boyfriend, I guess I have time to join you two at the grill."

"Our boyfriend."

You simply laugh at Stefan’s innocent tone, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. Just a few minutes ago, you were telling off Elena and storming out of the house. Now you’re pinned between two vampires—both of whom are technically yours, and you are theirs. Welcome to the wonderful, fucked-up world of Mystic Falls.

“‘Our’ boyfriend,” you echo, looking from Stefan to Damon. “Are you two seriously going to argue semantics right now? Pick a damn fight over who saw me first?” A scoff escapes you as you shrug off Damon’s possessive grip just enough to stand on your own. You’re not some chew toy they get to tug-of-war over.

Stefan cocks a brow, his expression cool but laced with a hint of smugness. “I’m not here to fight,” he says, his gaze flicking to Damon. “Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t excluded. Last time I checked, this was a joint arrangement.”

Damon’s jaw clenches. Clearly, he remembers crashing your date with Stefan last week—and how you’d had to smooth over the tension in ways that involved very little clothing and a lot of apologizing on his part. “We’re not excluding you, Saint Stefan. But we do have plans that don’t involve your pensive brooding.”

Stefan straightens, crossing his arms over his chest. “Oh, so your plan is to get drunk at the Grill and then…whatever else…” He waves a hand dismissively, “doesn’t appeal to me?” He tilts his head in mock curiosity. “You sure about that?”

You snort. “Children, please. If you both really wanted to rip each other’s heads off, you’d have done it ages ago. Let’s just go. All this talk is making my head hurt.”

Damon lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes. “Fine. But if Stefan starts preaching about morality or—God forbid—Elena, I’m leaving him to pay the tab.”

Stefan’s smirk grows. “I’d pick a better conversation starter than Elena, trust me.”

You give an unimpressed half-smile. “Don’t even mention her name. As far as I’m concerned, she doesn’t exist unless she’s blocking my path to a stiff drink.”

That shuts both of them up. They exchange a quick glance—some silent vampire communication or whatever—then Damon jerks his head toward the passenger door. “Shotgun’s yours,” he says to you, ever the gentleman when it comes to seating. To Stefan, he adds begrudgingly, “Guess you can squeeze into the back...or the trunk.”

Stefan’s lip twitches like he’s fighting off a retort, but he says nothing. Instead, he silently moves to the rear door. You can’t help but grin. It’s absurd that they both share you yet still bicker like five-year-olds over the smallest shit. But hey, maybe that’s part of the charm.

Once inside Damon’s Camaro, you sink into the leather seat, adjusting your legs as you feel Stefan’s presence behind you. The tension is thick—crackling with desire, frustration, and that constant competition. You kind of love it. Damon revs the engine, and the car peels away from the curb.

“Any chance we can make this a quick pit stop at the Grill?” you say, your gaze shifting between them. “I need something to eat, maybe a drink or two, but I’m not really in the mood to fraternize with the entire damn town.”

Damon flicks you a sidelong glance. “Someone’s impatient. Looking to skip straight to dessert, sweetheart?”

A grin tugs at your lips. “I’d just rather not get cornered by whichever idiot wants the latest gossip on Elena’s meltdown.”

Stefan leans forward, resting his forearms on the front seats. “We can be in and out in under thirty minutes. Grab some wings, maybe a bourbon—or three—and leave.” He lowers his voice suggestively. “After that, I wouldn’t mind some privacy.”

Damon makes a sound of reluctant agreement. “Deal. But don’t whine when you realize your tolerance is way lower than mine, Brother.”

Stefan just smirks. “Don’t worry about me, Damon. Worry about yourself.”

The quick banter settles into a charged silence as the lights of Mystic Falls blur by. The neon sign of the Grill soon comes into view, and Damon maneuvers into a parking spot with practiced ease.

“Let’s get this over with,” you mutter, pushing the car door open. “I’m not about to waste my entire night entertaining half-drunk townspeople.”

Stepping onto the sidewalk, you can already see a few familiar faces through the window—Caroline, Matt, maybe Tyler. You can’t be bothered to care. The only drama you want tonight is the kind that ends in moans, not tears. And if Elena hasn’t slithered over here yet, you might just get your way.

Damon slides an arm around your waist possessively again, and Stefan eyes the gesture with an annoyance that’s as old as time. You sigh inwardly. No matter how many times you remind them you belong to both, they still can’t help but try to stake their separate claims. Vampire pride, maybe.

As you head inside, the ambient chatter and smell of bar food envelop you. A few heads turn—this is Mystic Falls, after all, and you’re making a very public entrance with both Salvatores. Let them stare. Let them talk.

“Your usual table?” Damon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you say. “Let’s just grab a seat and order. I’m fucking starving.”

The three of you slip into a booth. Damon slides in beside you, Stefan on the opposite side. A cute server looks mildly flustered as she hands out menus. You can see her eyes flick between Damon and Stefan, likely recalling the messy history each has with Elena. If she notices you’re with them in a more intimate sense, she doesn’t comment. Probably for the best.

“So,” Damon says, flipping open the menu, “bourbon and wings? Or do we want to start with something stronger?”

Stefan doesn’t bother with the menu. “I’ll have what you’re having,” he says with a forced casualness, drumming his fingers on the table. He’s clearly aware eyes are on you three. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him—like he’s waiting for the next potential disaster.

You roll your eyes at the both of them. “Bourbon’s fine. Then if someone pisses me off, we can move on to whiskey shots until I forget this entire night.”

Damon flashes that trademark smirk. “You, pissed off? Shocking.”

Stefan snorts, finally cracking a faint smile. “I’m sure we’ll manage to avoid any drama.”

A short, barking laugh leaves you. “In this town? With the three of us in the same damn booth? Doubtful.”

But you push aside the building dread. Because at least you’re here on your terms, Elena’s sob story is miles away, and you have both Salvatores at your side—bickering, sure, but ultimately yours. And that realization, twisted as it might be, makes a satisfied grin curl your lips. With a raised brow, you signal the server for your order. Let the vultures talk, let Elena sulk. You’ve got bigger, better things to do tonight—and two vampires to do them with.

“Bring on the bourbon,” you say, leaning back. “I’ve got all fucking night.”

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Imagine breaking the dwarves out of the dungeons of The Woodland Realm.

Ori: "We're never gonna reach the mountain are we?" *He laments*

Bilbo: "Not stuck in here, you're not." *Jingles the keys*

Y/N appears, eating a cake?

Y/N: "Didya know they were having a feast? Bloody good food they have. And the wine! You guys want any? I think I can go-"

Balin: "Bilbo!"

*All erupt into excited chatter*

Y/N: "Wha- What am I? Chopped liver?"

*Munches angrily*

Kili: "It's okay Y/N I'll share with you!"

Fili: "Yeah, come on give us some!"

*Y/N grins and breaks the cake into three pieces.*

Bilbo: "Shh! There are guards nearby!"

*One by one they escape down to the cellar.*

Bofur: "You're suppose to be leading us OUT! Not further in!"

Bilbo: "I know what I'm doing."

Bofur: "Shh!"

Bilbo: "Into the barrels! Quickly now."

Dwalin: "Are you mad? They'll find us."

Bilbo: "No no, they won't I promise you. Please, please you must trust me"

Thorin: "Do as he says."

*They clamber in and Y/N stays out.*

Y/N: "Go Bilbo. into the barrel with Thorin quickly."

Thorin: "Y/N, what are you-"

Y/N: "I will see you at the gate."

Balin: "What gate?"

Y/N: "Hold your breath everyone."

*Y/N pulls the lever and they are all dropped into the river.*

Y/N: "Well, that was fun! Now, let's play some hide and seek shall we?"

*Y/N slips past the guards and out of the palace and up into the light. They spot the dwarves in the river and begins her run towards them*

Legolas: "Shut the gate" (in Sindarin)

Y/N: "No no! Don't do that!"

The guards look at her strangely before beginning to shut the gate.

*Y/N groans and mumbles*

Y/N: "This is gonna hurt like a bitch isn't it. Where's Tauriel when you need her. Stupid world doesn't even have her in it. Stupid movie made me think she was an actual character"

*She huffs while running towards the gate*

Y/N "ORCS! WATCH OUT!"

*A guard is stuck by an arrow.*

Y/N: "Fucks sake."

*The Orcs rampage through the top of the closed gates, persuing fights with the Elven guards.*

Bofur: "Orcs! Watch out!"

Bolg: "Slay them all" (Dark Speech)

*Y/N fires an arrow at him, striking him in the arm*

Y/N: "Take a shower, you STINK."

*Y/N runs towards the fighting dwarves.*

*Kili spots the lever to open the gate.*

Y/N: "NO, STAY PUT. DON'T MOVE KILI."

*Y/N dashes towards him while he gets up to pull the lever.*

Y/N: "NO."

*Bolg pulls out Y/N's arrow from his arm and draws his own, notching it in his bow. He aims it at Kili.*

Y/N: "KILI."

*Y/N lunges towards Kili, pushing him out of the way, the arrow strikes her through the leg. With a gasp she doubles over, clutches onto the lever and pulls it down.*

Y/N: "Ah, fuck."

A/N

For continuance sake, don't read ahead if you want to follow the normal story line. However if you wish to read this as a separate imagine read ahead!

*She gasps and struggles to stand. She bites down on her lip and forces the arrow out, snapping off the feathered end and pulling it out. Kili drags her over the edge of the gate and Y/N slips into a barrel with him below*

Kili: "Y/N! Y/N I'm so sorry I should have listened I-"

Y/N cries out in pain as they tumble down the stream, each knock jolting her wound.

Y/N: "Apologies later. Escape now."

*The company battles the Swarm of Orcs from the stream whilst drifting down the stream, aided by Legolas and his army.*

Thorin: "Anything behind us?"

Nori: "Not that I can see!"

Bofur: "I think we've out run the Orcs."

Thorin: "Not for long. We've lost the current."

Dwalin: "Bombur's half drowned."

Thorin: "Make for the shore! Come on let's go!."

Øin: "Glóin, help me brother."

Kili: "Y/N is hurt. Her leg needs binding."

Y/N Groans quietly before answering.

Y/N: "I'm fine. Not able to die, Just hurts. Better me than Kili. Orc pack on our tail, Need to..

*Y/N grits her teeth*

Need to keep moving."

Thorin: "To where? There's a lake between us and that mountain you need that rest."

Y/N: "A barge, a man will have a boat. Help me up, I'll show you the way. Let's go."

*Kili and Fili lift her up and they hobble away.*

Y/N: "I should do this more often if it means two pretty men will carry me."

Thorin: "I think not. Next time, I will carry you over my shoulder and you will have no say."

*Y/N blinks owlishly.*

[lokipokey]

࣪𖤐.ᐟ — there’s just something about putting gojo and nanami in the challengers threesome situation that i simply cannot resist so lest us fret and let us feast

the chase was always the fun part. that back and forth banter between you and your counterpart — pushing them past their breaking point as you saunter away time and time again because they'd always come back for more. you knew how to lure. and you were divine at it. so much so that it was even a foundation of your cursed technique. the chase was something you lived for. those moments of feeling ever so high, especially alongside the horrors of the profession of sorcery, was what got you through the day. it was elementary, really. a good work crush could solve everything.

satoru gojo was too easy. you had him wrapped around your finger the moment you met him. even if he was just as quick-witted and could send your shit right back at you, at the snap of your fingers he was your dog and he’d sit down and listen. the eye and admiration of kento nanami, on the other hand, was your prized possession, something you learned you had to earn. nanami was your work in progress. he puts up a fight to remain the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. he’d never allow himself a crush in the workplace. the profession of sorcery was too serious. but from the moment the two of you met in school, unbeknownst to you, he quickly realized you were different. kento nanami saw everything he needed to know in the way you carried yourself as a sorcerer. despite his usual indifference to people in general, you grew on him pretty quickly. it was something he kept to himself. you’d been etched on his heart ever since.

the pair were polar opposites. the egotistical asshole and the stoic gentleman. two of your colleagues that shared nothing in common. you laughed to yourself in your head. that wasn't all true. they did share one thing.

that’s why you almost didn't know what to do with yourself now that you had them both here on the end of the bed, sitting on either side of you, so close your outer thighs pressed flat against either of theirs.

it was dead silent, aside from the shallow breaths. the tension in the air so thick you could choke on it. you could feel both sets of eyes on you as you sat there facing straight ahead. they didn't dare move, not without your say.

with a release of your breath, you ran your hands down either of their thighs, trailing a reassuring rub back and forth with a gentle squeeze of either knee. both men faltered at your simple touch. they were antsy, thanks to you, and unapologetically desperate. anything from you and they'd come undone. filthily shameless, too, both of them— neither giving a single fuck that the other is there. anything they can get from you, they'll take with open arms. even in the presence of the other.

it dumped fuel on your fire.

your eyes flitted over to your right, meeting nanami's hazel gaze, taking a moment to yourself to revel in the piercing look before taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. as if he was a delicate thing, despite the strapping size of him. his big strong arms closing in on your frame as they find either side of your ribcage and hold you there with him. as if you would saunter away at any given moment. his lips matched yours in a soft, passionate dance, with a deep-rooted passion that had begged to see the light of day for so long now that was finally allowed to burn. it was achingly sweet, filled with an unrecognizable desire and warmth from the reserved man. you re-met his lips again and again and again, each reunion needier than the last. his hands strained around your frame, his hold so firm like he was making a claim of you.

gojo was genuinely tweaking on the left of you. he needed your attention, now. needed your pretty eyes on him and somewhere to put his restless hands. watching you kiss nanami like your life depended on it shamelessly had his dick hard, waiting his turn so patiently that you'd give it to him just as good if not better. you were playing with him, right? making him be the one to wait and prove he's a good boy so you'd reward him? god, he fucking hoped so. because he wasn't so sure how long he could last being good with a sight as pornographic as the one set out in front of him.

silently gojo’s fingers grazed the top of your left thigh, grabbing at it lightly, like he was reminding you that he was still there.

you swiftly snatched his anxious hand and held it to your center, holding it there against your ribs without breaking the kiss you were preoccupied with. you hummed in response to both of them, one for praise and one for patience.

you're slow to release nanami's face from your hand, drawing back from his hold. his eyes lock to yours in an instant, pupils so blown with lust you almost didn’t recognize him. you couldn't help the smile that tugged ever so lightly at the corners of your mouth, getting off on that fucking look he's giving you. the way it said everything for him. he was utterly submitted; without hesitation, he was at your mercy.

breaking nanami's gaze, you flip to gojo, who gasps at your full attention. your grin has taken over your lips at the sight of him— the tension holding his shoulders taut and completely upright, the sweat adorning his forehead, his baby blues a shade so bright you nearly squint just to have a longer look. you were torturing this poor man. you could feel him impatiently waiting his turn from beside you the entire time, but that's why he needed it.

you knew how to work your boys up so well. you also knew gojo couldn't handle it. he didn't have the self-restraint, not when it came to you.

his hands had already jumped the gun, trailing your thighs up til he hit your hips where they locked on, digging his fingertips in, his eyes boring into yours as he remained still as his chest heaved in shallow breaths. waiting for your word — for your initiative — and you caught it, holding still there in the moment for just a second too long just to revel in his anticipation before leaning in, ever so slowly, until your lips hovered in front of his. those bright eyes left yours to steal a glance down at your parted, panting lips, wordlessly begging you to close the gap. he knew better than to do it himself, as much as he yearned to.

but toying with your boys was what you did best.

you inched the last inch closer, just barely grazing his lips when that soft grin fought its way back to your lips and you whispered, "are you sure your infinity is turned off—"

"for fuck's sake—"

gojo crashed his mouth to yours, not able to control himself any longer. and you oblige, letting him take control as he grabs you into a tight embrace, one hand clutching the back of your neck and the other wrapping around to press you further into him at center of your back. anything to get you closer to him. a place he could finally have you and keep you in. the kiss was rottenly sweet, despite the torment you put him through. he can't keep still, trailing his hands to your face, caressing it as you make quick work of his tongue. you knew he'd need more of you after the teasing, your efforts making him moan raggedly into your mouth.

your right hand dragged up his front to rest delicately at his jaw, grasping it with force at your fingertips. there was a want with every press of his lips, desire coating every flick of his tongue. doing everything he’d been dying to do since he first laid eyes on you.

you paused your fit of passion when a another smile graced your lips. gojo pulled back to look at your face, those baby blues studying your features as his saliva-glossed lips hung parted as he panted to regain his breath.

you caught nanami off guard when you flicked your attention back to him for another kiss, but he returned it with matching energy. gojo pressed his chest up into your back, cupping at your breasts through your shirt, lips connecting with your neck as he peppers soft wet kisses along it. you flicked back to gojo, redirecting his lips to yours again and he gladly obliges. nanami's hands found either side of your ribcage from behind as he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your hair like he was committing it to memory. you flicked back and forth until you had your hands at the back of their heads, drawing them closer and closer to you in the center until you closed the gap between them right before your line of vision, and watch as you press their lips together.

they’re so lost in the moment they don’t react how you might have expected them to react given any other circumstance. your wide-eyed stare can't be broken from the sight. frozen there, you can only watch as the two men go at it. it's ravenous, leaving you slack jawed as you fought to regain your breath. their hands are a blur — in a fit of pure chaos darting from place to place — running through one another's hair to clutching at your thighs to grasping at each other's throats. you're lost in the trance that is this, caving backward to lean on your elbows against the bed, cunt throbbing at the scene set before you. admiring your boys, bonding over the one thing they agree on.

as they made work of each other, several seconds passed as your mind raced with the possibilities now laid out before you. in that very moment, you closed your eyes to release a sharp, relieving breath, and then flicked them open.

the chase had just begun.

“i better head out,” your voice startled the both of them out of the fit of passion they were lost in, both flicking their heads to you to give you their full attention, eyes wide at your statement.

dumbfounded words of protest at your suddenly announced departure began tumbling from their mouths, though you were quick to cut it off.

“it’s getting late. we’ve gotta be up early to finish the mission. wouldn’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep,” you grinned at the pair as you rose up from between them on the bed, them remaining frozen there as you sauntered to the door, sending one last glance back to drink in the same stunned expression on both their faces, “see you bright and early, boys.”

[witherby]

Thinking naughty Brucie Wayne thoughts cause you KNOW he sluts around in order to maintain that playboy reputation.

Imagining Brucie on an evening gossip show and he's playing a game where he's sharing light-hearted secrets with the host. It's called some shit like...I dunno, "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours!"

"Okay, we gotta be careful with the wording here because we're on live television," the host laughs, "but I have a question."

"Ask me anything, baby, I'm an open book," Bruce purrs. The live studio audience whistles and cheers.

"What's your darkest sexual fantasy? I'll tell you mine —"

"IF YOU TELL ME YOURS!!" The audience shouts, clapping and cheering with ridiculous enthusiasm. Bruce, who has impeccable control over his body's nervous system, turns beet red and covers his face. His heartbeat is still as steady as a war drum. World's Greatest Detective and also World's Best motherfuckin Actor.

"oh shit," he mutters. The cheering gets even louder. "I can't say it out loud. I've never told anybody this before, it's insane."

The host is Locked The Fuck In. Exclusive information nobody else has about Brucie Wayne, Gotham's precious prince? He can smell the trending hashtags already.

"Oh?" He goads, grinning and leaning forward in his chair. "Is it really bad? Brucie, you dog! I didn't know you had it in you! We gotta know, now!"

"Skip," Bruce says shyly, "next question!"

The audience boos and starts chanting some iteration of "tell us! Tell us!" The host shushes them and says it's fine, he'll go first and they'll both be a little embarrassed about it. No big deal, it's just a fun game! What's a little spicy secret between friends, we're all friends here, it's fine!

The host's is boring. Something like Toes or edible underwear. Bruce shyly says he can't say it, and asks if he can write it down instead. The host is like yes, absolutely, someone fetch this man a pen and paper RIGHT NOW.

Brucie writes it down. The host reads it. He gasps.

"Okay everybody, shhh. This says...I want to — BRUCE?"

Bruce reddens more and is as curled up as he can possibly get in his big chair. The audience is feral at this point.

"It says "I want a priest to give his virginity to me." Bruce Thomas Wayne!!!"

There's an uproar. People are whistling. Women are screaming. Catholics are clutching their pearls. There's so much clapping. Some people are laughing. When everybody settles down enough to let him explain, Bruce, still red in the face, just stares meekly at the ground and mutters:

"I dunno, it's so wicked. I wanna be like Lucifer with the apple. I want a son of God to turn away from His light and be tempted into my bed. If God is actually homophobic and being gay gets you sent to Hell, — first of all, fuck that guy — and second of all, at the very least I want him to get a taste of Heaven in the sheets, y'know?"

#DamnedByBrucie is the number one trending topic for the next four days. Priests are coming out of the woodwork and sending him genuine offers to take their virginity. Hal buys a priest outfit immediately. Bruce is so down to roleplay this even though that wasn't even close to his darkest sexual fantasy.

[thebearme]

…petey headcanons? *holds plate out like a starving Victorian child*

Don't worry victorian child, you will be fed.

Petey is ace, particularly greysexual.

Petey has that scary cute cat yawn where they just unhinge their jaw then belp :P

He has shrimp posture sitting and standing, his back is wack.

Not so fun fact, his back is messed up because of his tail being chopped. The tail is connected to the spinal cord after all.

He was a BIG gifted child when he was little, he always wanted praise for his accomplishments. Which made alot of the kids around him hate him, and lead to the whole critter scouts thing.

And after awhile he became the exact opposite, he acted up in school for justified reasons but because his teachers wouldn't care to understand and just punished him. They saw him as a trouble child and the kids thought he was a bad kid, so with the change in perspective Petey started to believe it.

Luckily he had Big Jim growing up, he may have been mean to him at the time but nowadays Petey truly appreciates him and wants to apologize for behavior towards him.

Petey HATES getting sick for many reasons but the main one is that it makes him feel weak. So if Dogman or Lil Petey got sick he'll probably be in a hazmat suit before giving them a box of tissues.

Petey believe it or not, has a fixation on robots. AND I MEAN ALL ROBOTS, he would watch robot movies, have robot pjs, robot posters, robots toys on his shelf, robots anything and everything. I was able to show abit of it in my human Petey design with two of his tattoos (one of them being the robot from the day the earth stood still) and him in a transformer shirt. Why else would he make the most mundane things into robots? Cuz they're COOL!

Speaking of which, Petey fucking cried when he heard Opportunity's last words.

Petey gave up on getting an outside job and went freelance, It's not like the job market was that great anyway.

I imagine Petey, to the surprise to everyone but Dogman, is pretty strong. He may look twiggy, but he is an engineer! You NEED upper body strength to do work. Heres a post I made about it

Petey has a depression shaped pit in is bed. He didn't buy that pit, it's something he earned with hard work and so can you. Lil Petey likes loafing in it.

Petey can easily keep working in his workshop for the whole day without eating or using the bathroom if you don't make him take a break. When he's in the zone he forgets he got a body that has needs and can drop dead if he doesn't fulfill those needs.

Petey knew how to cook from his mom but didn't really start cooking till he got Lil Petey. He just ate takeout EVERYDAY cause he was too busy and depressed to cook, and his butler didn't give af to cook for him if he's just gonna to complain. But of course after getting Lil Petey he wasn't going to fed him takeout! So it went from frozen chicken nuggets and apple sauce to homemade pork stirfry and curry rice.

That care in cooking for others also goes to Dogman as well, neither of them had healthy eating habits so they made a deal to help each other in their journey. Dogman would eventually get told by the doctor that he needs to cut the dogfood cause his human body can digest all of that, so Petey is now cook pack lunches for him as well. And personally meals that taste good for his dog tongue, and Dogman gives him the biggest kisses for that.

I'm currently working on a comic for this next one but Petey feels like has no friends. He never just hanged out with any of the gang just to hangout by themselves. He feels like everyone is close friends with each other but not him, they all hang out around him because they're friends with Dogman. And the only reason they knows so much about him is because he trauma dumps on them. But he'll later learn that they do care about him outside of being close to Dogman and they'll hangout and get to know each other more.

Petey has sensitive beans, particularly to the cold. He's gonna be wearing socks and mittens if there's no heating which is funny cause cats usually hate them.

Petey is actually fluffy but just licks his fur down.

He's tail always is bent and not in a normal way but if you crushed paper and tried to lay it back, it still is bent and slowly goes back to that bent form. The only way to make Petey's tail go completely straight is if you surprise him or made him relax to the ninth degree.

Petey still has cat behavior just like how Dogman has dog behavior but unlike him, Petey controls his behavior. He basically masks everyday because of a whole social class stuff I can't explain rn. Cuz he wants to be taken seriously and not just seen as some house pet.

He once made a throne out of boxes and sat in it till Lil Petey or Dogman came back home. No reason for it, he just wanted to feel like a king.

Petey loves midday naps but the sun cuz he's a cat and old. It's true that you'll need more midday naps when you're older.

If I had to give a inuniverse reason for how he understands sign language it's because Petey learned from his mom. When Petey was younger and had a moment where he mad and overwhelmed he would have a hard time explaining his thoughts. Grace taught him sign language so he can explain his thoughts even if all he can verbally do is scream.

When Grace died, Petey was put into adoption and stayed there for a while because of his age and his behavioral problems. But he eventually got adopted by Dr Dilbert Dinkles, he was perfect for his needs, not a child so he won't cry, a cat can take care of themselves and behaving poorly is exactly what villains in training need to be bad. So Petey got adopted by the worst person possible and we know how the rest of the story goes.

Despite that fact that Dilbert is a doctor, Petey had the upper hand on him. He has street smarts, and when you know to build robots and know to use the robots to their full evil potential then you become a true villain to fear.

Petey and Flippy could very well be friends but Petey is literally just holding a grudge against him for some reason? Seriously idk why they're not friends, I think Flippy wants to be friends with him too but it just Petey that's in the way of that in canon. Like- please stop being an ahole for a second and just talk!

Petey also try his hand at gardening... Dogman keeps rolling on his flowers.

And that pretty much all the headcanons I can think of, I still do have my visual hc but yall always know it

heres a lil collage I made from my petey moodboard

And you already know the playlist