#woah this looks so much longer on tumblr

[lastthroes]

Dreamwidth crosspost, as a reply to lrb:

1.    How many fics have you worked on since January?

I spent a good part of the year not doing much, mostly due to how unpredictable my health became. There’s way more I worked on that what ended up actually finished and posted. However, counting some non-exchange but still Anonymous works, and if my math is mathing right… I got twenty whole works posted! 🥳

2.    What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year? I made a conscious effort to focus on my descriptions. I feel that one of my strongest points is introspection, which often causes White Room Syndrome. Even if I might have not always been successful, I did force myself to actually remember there’s a world that exists outside of the characters too. It’s particularly noticeable in between a life that we expected and the way it’s always been and eigengrau which, besides the inclusion of interpersonal conflict, also count as worldbuilding exploration: F41DB AKA Victor’s original dimension, and then the world after the Julius Ending, respectively.

3.    What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.) Xillia 2, much like the past year, and I predict a lot more of it for the new year to come as well.

4.    How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Legendia, Rays, Asteria, Xillia 2, Zestiria, Berseria,… That makes up for seven different canons. A decent amount of variety, in my opinion. 5.    What ships captured your heart?

Looks like it was Julius/Ludger taking the crown of having the biggest number of works! 6.    What characters captured your heart?

Victor, the Kresnik brothers, the earth siblings… Even if we add some new characters into the bunch, we stay mostly consistent. 7.    Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

I sure did! Finally wrote for Rays like I had been meaning to since I came back to it after Crestoria’s EoS.

As for ships, in one hand, I got to write (and start the tags for) Rays!Victor and Asteria!Elle in from a missed connection, and then Asteria!Victor/Asteria!Elle in a rock upon which i stand. In the other hand, from here on in made me write Prime!Julius/Victor, then Julius/Ludger/Victor in living mirage, which also started its own tag.

I also got to write Legendia with Chloe/Shirley in a place to call home. This one is not really a new ship for me, but it is one I didn’t really had the chance to create anything for before. It’s also the ship that finally broke my shipcest streak. It wasn’t on purpose, but wow: I really wrote nothing but gen fic and incest for two years straight...

Finally, I also dipped my toes into Velvet/Eizen by writing them in an implied canon divergence with illiagne red. 8.    What fic meant the most to you to write?

That’s probably if i could start again, a million miles away.

A particular pet-peeve I have is the use of MCD for nothing else but shameless shock value, with cases like Fractured Milla and Dezel being the worst contenders: they get not only forgotten, but also effectively replaced by Prime Milla and Zaveid respectively. I wrote that fic as a response to how much the canon shrugs Ludger’s pain under the carpet, particularly in the context of the normal/neutral ending. The weight of the Trial and having to destroy all the dimensions, letting go of Milla’s hand knowing it’ll kill her and then, as the cherry on top, having to watch the two people he loved most killing themselves to save his life? Ignoring all this simply isn’t realistic.

… However, it’s also not the first fic that I ended up throwing into an unrevealed collection shortly after publication due to feeling disastisfied. It doesn’t help that it’s the kind of fic I’m reluctant to have anyone beta through it, less because of the length and more because of the content warnings.

So, for this question, I think I will cheat a little and choose "To show you a smile", a ship manifesto for Edna/Eizen. It’s a ship that’s very close to my heart. 9.    What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? Everything does, kind of? If I didn’t enjoy myself, why would I write it? I know it’s kind of a cliche answer, but that really is how I feel. 10.    What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing? Probably anything involving Rays, considering all the canon checking that it involves, which means from a missed connection, enemy lines, and perfect world in the cradle. And man, is Rays a complicated canon to be reviewing for… It comes with the territory of being a seven-years long game, but still. 11.    What fic was the most difficult to write? I’m going to go with the former answer again. They were both difficult and satisfying. 12.    What fic was the easiest to write? Not counting the ficlets, then the ship manifesto I mentioned earlier, "To show you a smile": I sat down and wrote ~4k of it in one go. It had been bouncing in my brain for so many years that it just flowed without issues once I finally told myself to do it.

13.    What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year? Shortest: unsaid, at 404 words. Sometimes a ficlet format is best for some stories, because what’s most important is what isn’t said out loud, much like the title implies.

Longest: if i could start again, a million miles away again, at ~20k words. But considering the aforementioned circumstances, looks like it’s eigengrau which gets the honors instead with ~11k words. 14.    What were your go-to writing songs?

This one’s easy if you recognize some titles, because they are parts of songs more often than not.

15.    What was the hardest fic to title? I usually let the fic simmer for enough time that I can come up with a decent title, but that wasn’t the case for a rock upon which i stand, just like it also wasn’t for illiagne red, because both of them were late treats. They went through several different title changes and I still don’t like what I settled with, they feel basic and boring... But well, what can you do. 16.    What's your favorite title of the year?

eigengrau, a German word for intrinsic gray, the not-truly-pitch-black that you see when you close your eyes. It ended up fitting the fic really well, considering the tone and the state of the world with Bisley’s full control. Or, as the fic itself puts it:

"No matter how twisted and submerged in darkness this world may be, it was the only one Julius knew that let them stay together. This was the world he had wanted, and not the perfect world he’d decided to push Ludger to create. This was the life they had chosen—both of them."

17.    Share your favorite opening line

"Regardless of how much he regretted it, the scorpion had still killed the frog in those stories Claudia always read to him.

Maybe it was just how things were meant to be. Maybe their differences were irreconcilable."

(From: binding blood.)

This intro is meant to foreshadow the ending. And, though this is a different tale (a fable that is probably popular enough to be recognizable, the scorpion that wanted to cross the river and then drowned from killing the frog because he couldn’t help it), I still vaguely wanted to connect it to Night on the Galactic Railroad, a popular japanese novel—I love thinking of Julius as the scorpion of fire mentioned in it. I have done a few references to NotGR in different Xillia 2 fics, and I cannot stress enough my disappointment at canon completely wasting the opportunity of referencing it, especially with the theme of sacrifice at the end and the train visuals from the first chapters. Besides, you already have a NPC in Drellin referencing real japanese literature with "Two-thousand Years of Solitude", or 『二千年の孤独』. 18.    Share your favorite ending line I am torn between two of them. First, from binding blood:

"Julius laughed feverishly, his whole body weight falling on Ludger’s open chest as he cradled his heart against him.

“I knew it…! I knew it… I knew you had a kind heart…”

The world faded into bright red."This unfortunately does not work well in English, but in Japanese 温かい can be read as warm (and blood is warm) and also kind—and Ludger’s kindness is the last thing Stribog!Julius remarks before he dies: “I know you have… a kind heart… And that’s why--I told you to stay away!”.

The second one comes from perfect world in the cradle:

"But Julius had been wrong. This dream wasn’t ending. This was not the end of their story. This was reality now: this blue and bright sky filled with hope was his—their—actual world now, and Julius’ heart swelled with possibilities.

Closed off from everything else, there was a chance that Tir Na Nog would someday fall into yet another crisis, but Julius realized he was at peace with that: he would face whatever new crisis that came head-on. Both of them would, always together." Just like the fic points out, Julius references quite a few times in Rays that everything is so good it just feels like a dream. This is also connected to Rays showing a close version of the perfect world he creates after completing his transformation into a divergence catalyst, one in which he can actually live happily with Ludger.

19.    Share your favorite piece of dialogue

"“Elle was meant to bring you to me. I would take your place and get to Canaan to restart my life as a true denizen of the prime dimension.”

Reincarnation would turn them into different people but, in a way, they would still be ‘Elle’ and ‘Ludger’. Left with no better choices, Victor had come to peace with such an end to their story: it was miles better than vanishing away.

“But Elle...”

“Yes, she didn’t know,” Victor confirmed before smirking. “You are in the house of the unrepentant man who dreamed of killing you for years, Ludger Will Kresnik of the prime dimension.”"

This is from enemy lines. I still cannot believe how Rays closed without ever addressing everything that Victor did (and everything else that he was planning to do) in the canon. Talk about a wasted opportunity. 20.    Share your funniest line

From perfect world in the cradle again: "“Rollo, my boy, come here. Let’s get you down, safe and round.”"

I wrote this one for an exchange, and both the beta and the recipient liked it, so it must be a good line! 21.    What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story? eigengrau went through a lot, and I really mean a lot, of changes. I had no idea back when I started it that it would eventually mutate into a whole AU—Most of what remained was the core concept of them running away and camping, of the news causing conflict between them, and of Julius worrying about Ludger while submerged in the night’s dark. Initially, the title as a reference didn’t work because I had forgotten about Canaan being in the sky permanently after you summon it (and until you complete the Trial), which means no sun and moons and perpetual purple-ish light, which also rendered the theme/concept I was using and I had titled the fic after unusable. Later, as I tried to fix it, I also realized that it was a total downer of a fic, which I couldn’t know if the recipient would like. As I envisioned how to fix that as well, I added the scene of them living happily in a random fractured dimension... And one thing led to another, and that is how I somehow wrote 11k for an exchange. But I also had a lot of time, so maybe it’s a sign that I shouldn’t be given that much time to write? Hah.

22.    What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand? Well, I still use the 2007 version of Word… Device-wise, my now dead phone (I’d be lying if I said the life without a phone isn’t also kind of more relaxed), notebook margins,... just whatever I had close whenever inspiration struck.

("Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime 🎵 That's why I write incest on company time 🎵") 23.    If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year? Some point of time as I worked in eigengrau and perfect world in the cradle, because I realized my writing was actually improving. If you compare any of them to some burdens are so in more ways than one, which was the first time I wrote in English in years, the difference is noticeable. 24.    Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic? Ehhh, no, I don’t really do anything like that. 25.    How did you recharge between fics? This question assumes that I don’t post something and then open a different document next. 26.    Did you create fanworks other than fic? Besides the Edna/Eizen ship meta mentioned earlier, I did some art. Not much as I’d have liked to due to the circumstances: writing you can do it anywhere, but drawing? You have to be in front of your computer, with your drawing tablet, with no interruptions, with no painful and distracting illnesses… So just stay at hotel fenntasia, a place to call home which is an art to accompany the fic of the same name (and the first time in almost a whole year that I drew something), and avant-garde cooking. 27.    How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!) Year of the OTP Prompt Event 2023, the Stuffed With Love multifandom incest exchange, Cestember 2024 (as well as the Microcest weekly event), the Tales of Secret Santa 2023 and 2024, and Yuletide—in which I also snuck a small treat for the Madness collection.

I also filled an old prompt for Tales of Spicy Cocktail 2022, as well as another one for the Tales of Prompts NSFW collection that was a crosspost. I imagine familyromantic’s shipcest contest on Tumblr counts as well. I really like participating in fandom events. Having a deadline forces me to actually get things done. 28.    If this were an awards show, who would you thank? Hah. I guess my friends who put up with my random ramblings as I try to figure out a plot, and of course everyone who’s left me a comment or a kudos. It’s very appreciated, especially when I seem to get nicher and nicher. 29.    What's left on your to-do list for 2024? I would say that the rest of my YOTP 2023 entries. I will try to finish them through 2025, even if the collection is closed and I can no longer submit.

I also would like to get properly back into drawing... There is a certain art trade that I have left hanging for so long that it’s a bit embarrassing. It was mainly caused by my deteriorating health, and later I got hit by the overwhelming "after such a long wait, I need to turn it into the absolute best drawing I have ever made" perfectionism, but still.

30.    What would you like to write next year? Some of the Eizen/Edna (maybe more like Edna/Eizen) ideas that keep bouncing inside my head. It’s my OTP among the OTPs for a good reason. The main thing that always stops me is that they literally never interact onscreen in canon (with crossover mobile games often coming up with wildly different interpretations—just look at how they speak to each other in Crestoria and then look at Asteria, for example). They also come from two different videogames that heavily contradict each other, which means I have to do a lot of reviewing and pick-and-choose. Xillia 2 has a very similar problem, but it’s also much easier to compartmentalize what doesn’t fit with the original game in terms of characters and worldbuilding. I also hope to get some claimed prompts done once Spicy Cocktail returns.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Venom intertwined

Summary: Wanda just wanted you and Venom to stop fighting that’s all she wanted, why did it escalate so much?

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, no spicy stuff, fluff, a crushed Pb and jelly sandwich (poor Nat)

A/n: I rewrote this since tumblr decided to delete it, hopefully it’s good, there will be a part two but when? Whenever I write it 😂

“Y/n why are you limping?” Nat barley moved from her place on the couch as you tried, but failed, to walk through the house without anyone noticing your injury

“I’m not limping you’re just incompetent” you laughed but Nat just rolled her eyes “I’m a well trained assassin Y/n I can spot a bee 5 miles away and blindfolded, you’re limping”

You flopped down next to her on the couch unable to hide the pain any longer “okay fine! Yes I’m limping are you happy now?”

Nat ignored your snarky comment instead pinching your arm getting a shout in response “enough with the snarky comments, why hasn’t Venom healed you yet?”

Venom’s head snaked out and you rolled your eyes knowing the rant was coming

“Y/n said that I was useless and she did not need me to live her life, so when someone who was paid to kill us managed to stab us in the leg I refused to heal her since she can obviously take care of herself”

Their head turned to you and glared and you glared back “you are a very childish bastard you know tha-

Venom slammed your body against the floor snapping the coffee table in half

“Ahh my sandwich” Nat said sadly picking up her now squashed sandwich “I was looking forward to that”

You scuffled with Venom on the floor which looked funny to anyone not knowing about Venom since it looked like you were just fighting yourself

“Take it back!” Venom growled

“No!” You shouted back

Suddenly Wanda burst the door hearing the commotion “woah what’s going on?!”

“Your girlfriend and her parasite ruined my Pb and jelly sandwich” Wanda glared at Nat and made a mental note to tell Maria to make more sandwiches to keep the grumpy assassin happy

“Okay you two stop!” Wanda’s plea went unanswered as you continued to fight with the symbiote so she used her magic to still you “hey!” You shouted still trying your best to fight

“I will separate you two if you don’t behave!”

Wanda barely registered Nat’s shout of “no!” Too focused on the fighting going on right now

You didn’t respond to her threat so Wanda, without thinking of the consequences, pulled Venom out of you and dropped you both to the ground, you fell to the ground feeling hallow for the first time in years, nothing felt right, your skin didn’t feel like your own and you couldn’t breathe, everytime you tried your heart sounded louder in your ears, wait your heart? That hadn’t made a sound in years.

Your eyes landed on the mess of symbiote on the ground, seemingly looking for you, when you reached your arm out you hoped they found you when your vision started to fade, after what felt like hours your body warmed back up and you felt the symbiote flow through your body and Venom’s voice piercing your ears “I am back Y/n you can relax now, we will be safe again soon I will heal you” you remained on the ground shaking slightly trying to keep relaxed like Venom said

Wanda and Nat watched you, watched you reach out for Venom and watched the colour returned to your face and your breathing return to normal, Wanda came close to you

“Baby I’m so sorry” Wanda tried helping you up but you scrambled away from her into the corner scared and afraid “no! No stay there Wanda!”

Wanda backed off unsure on what to do but Nat was there to try and help, “Wanda, you know her and Venom are entwined, DNA and all it’s dangerous to pull them apart you could’ve killed her”

Wanda gasped “I know I know! But I just wanted them to stop fighting I didn’t know what to do. And why didn’t you stop me?!”

Nat shrugged “I didn’t think you’d do it I also shouted stop but you still did it so it’s not my fault”

Wanda sighed knowing Nat was right and turned to you again jumping back seeing only Venom glaring back at the two women “Y/n?”

Venom stood tall and all trace of you had seemingly disappeared “you tried to kill us Wanda, someone who loves us would never do that”

Wanda’s eyes watered “no no baby please I didn’t mean to hurt you I just wanted you to stop fighting with Venom” she tried to hug the symbiote to give comfort but Natasha pulled her away

“Wanda they’ll tear you to shreds in seconds!”

The assassin kept tight hold of the witch as they both watched Venom turn to the window and turn back to them both, one side of your face revealed which gave Wanda hope but it was quickly dashed “Y/n? My love are you still there?”

“Don’t follow us” Venom overtook your body once again and leapt out of the window leaving the women alone without knowing where you were going or if you were coming back

“No Y/n! Come back!” You’d never been away from Wanda for more than a couple of days but she had no idea where you were going

***************************************

It was a while before either woman moved, Nat was still clinging onto Wanda as the redhead sobbed for you to come back hoping everytime she glanced at the broken window she’d see your form but it never came

Eventually Maria found them both, she sent Nat off to tell Tony and Bruce what happened and if they could help

“Wanda? Wanda can you hear me?” Maria sat in front of Wanda holding her head in her hands “she’s gone” Wanda whisper sobbed and Maria nodded “I know, they were spotted in Times Square running all over the billboards, they’re heading for New Jersey it seems”

Wanda brightened up and stood “New Jersey?”

Maria nodded “yeah why?”

“Y/n was going to buy a house there, she was going to ask Tony to borrow some money and work it off doing missions and let Tony and Bruce do some experiments on Venom”

Wanda turned to leave but Maria was quick to grab her arm “woah! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“To New Jersey, she needs me I need to fix this”

Maria shook her head holding tight onto the witch “Wanda I mean this with all the love in the world but you caused this, you knew damn well what would happen and I’m pretty sure if you just turned up you’d start fighting with Venom and lose”

Wanda admitted defeat sighing and sitting down on the couch wiping more tears from her face

“Okay here’s what’s going to happen, you’ll have a shower and get yourself sorted then meet myself and the others to discuss what’s going to happen okay? We’ll get her back I promise”

Wanda didn’t speak but Maria took her silence as an agreement and left the room. But Wanda didn’t have a shower or meet everyone she instead got into her car and was currently on her way to you to fix this, she was going to fix this.

******************************************************

Meanwhile in New Jersey you were sat in that very house you were buying, Venom still being at the forefront keeping your body safe while it healed

“Are you feeling okay Y/n? Your body was so cold”

“Yeah I’m okay, just really confused, I can’t believe Wanda would do that”

Venom agreed “she tried to kill us”

You went to say something more but the front door opened revealing a witch standing there

“Why hello stranger, looking a little mouldy there”

The symbiote split their face revealing your own shocked one

“Agatha? You’re back?”

“Awaiting my favourite little alien’s return”

[grandisknight]

rafayel: an artist's nails

summary: It’s been a while since your last nail endeavor, and you seek out your creative lover to fill in the missing details once again.

tags: established relationship, fluff, silly rafayel, gender neutral!reader, kisses, light banter, nail polish

wc: 1.0k | (ao3)

a/n: hi hi! eek this is my first time posting like this to tumblr, i'm not too familiar with it so please forgive me for any mistakes (⸝⸝⸝- ᴗ -⸝⸝⸝ ;) i hope my short but sweet little headcanon does rafmc some justice! the idea came to me randomly while angst writing (hhhh) so here we are c:

⊹˚₊‧��──────────‧₊˚⊹

“Again?” He looks down at you from the impressive height of his ladder, palette and brush paused in mid motion. The canvas stretching his wall had streaks of pale blue, contrasting the rich sapphire that lay underneath them. Another masterpiece in the making, and you’ve caught him at a somewhat opportune time to air out your proposal.

“Please? I promise it’ll be the last time!” You gave him your best pout, hands clasped together in a pseudo prayer.

“That’s what you said two weeks ago, my love.” Rafayel shakes his head.

“Ra—fa—yel!” You called out, purposefully stringing his vowels in a way that he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to.

“Okay, okay. Give me a moment, yeah?”

Leaving his instruments behind, he descends from the perch of his ladder. Dusting off his hands on the edge of his slacks, he straightens his posture towards you with a few strides. Arms crossed over his chest, the warmth of coral and cooled blue examined your presence up close. “You don’t seem injured. Mission went well?”

“It did! But that’s not what I’m here for.” You flash your hands towards him, wiggling the tips of your fingers for dramatic effect. “Look at how much they’ve grown! They’re begging for a new design, and only one curated by Linkon City’s best painter could do the job.”

The bed of coral acrylic was slowly pushing past your natural nail, unflattering to the eye and no longer holding the fresh sheen it once had. It was long overdue for a retouch, and you trusted your boyfriend’s talented eye to decorate your fingers once more.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” he half-heartedly remarks, but takes your hands into his own regardless. His fine fingers delicately trace over the rounded edges of your acrylics, tilting them alongside his head to capture their finish in the warm lighting of his art studio. “Hm… They are longer than before, I’ll give you that.”

An internal score in your mind was being kept, and you just landed your first point. “Exactly. So, I was thinking for the next design—“

“Woah, excuse you.” His fingers intertwined with yours, passing his warmth into your palms. He tugs you closer, hands closed like the prayer you presented just moments ago. Rafayel quirks a brow as he continues.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

You paused, a blink of confusion crossing your face. “…Am I?”

The plush of his lips puff out like a fish, awaiting your realization. Ah. You had to pay the kiss toll first—how could you forget?

You met his pout halfway, lightly pressing a kiss to pay your dues forward. Rafayel quickly chases your leaning figure, peppering a second, and then a third, to the lips curling into a faint smile at his antics and he mirrored yours all the same.

“Okay—Raf—Mm!”

He swallowed your interruptions with ones of his own, a barrage of straight smooches fluttering over your mouth. Only after the nth kiss did he finally part, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles with a hum in satisfaction.

“Payment accepted.” Rafayel lowered your hands, only to gently tug them in the direction of his desk.

Pieces of sketch paper and paints, pencils and more laid across the surface as you approached. He lets go momentarily, pulling out a chair and swiping away some tabletop space, before patting on the cushion in invitation.

“Alright, why don’t we start sketching out your ideas, yeah? Let’s see if we can make this new set better than the last.”

…

No sooner than a week later did you return to Mo Art Studio, feeling particularly energized as you practically skipped into his living space.

“Ah, you’re back.”

Rafayel called out to you before you had the chance to speak, swiping another shade of cerulean over the canvas. He looks over his shoulder, eyes twinkling at your appearance and brow upturned in curiosity. “You seem like you’re in a good mood. Did you get them done today?”

You nodded, waving him down with an equally bright expression. “Take a break! I want you to admire your masterpiece.” With an outstretched hand, you await his descending figure in a similar sense of deja vu.

“Yeah? You’re already here though,” Rafayel teases, taking hold of your invitation in turn. “But alrighty. Let’s go.”

Natural habits led your bodies to walk past the floor to ceiling entrance and into the sands hugging his estate. Seagulls chirp overhead as the fragrance of salty seas sting your nose, welcoming in the warmth of sunshine and ocean views all around.

“Maybe the crab from last week is still around,” you mention. “I think it was this way—Ah!”

Rafayel snickers at your enthusiasm, but paused you short of your wandering in an effort to pull you closer to him. He raises your combined hands outwards, turning them in every direction as he observes the new design.

Speckles of pale white and faint pink hugged the tip of your nail, pearly effects blending into the azure gradient that filled the rest of the space. Light traces of a circle or two resemble bubbles, a key seashell charm on your pinky finger and an exclusive Lemurian insignia resembling the bond over his heart were all littered across the set.

He nods in approval, and you could practically see the sharp rise of his shoulders in pride as he spoke. “Ah, they turned out really good this time. I wonder whooo designed them.”

You lean into his playful stance, pressing a kiss to his cheek and watching as his skin flushes in an adoring rouge. “Thank you, my love. Next time, we should do your nails too!”

“Yeah? I don’t know if I want to have another pot with steam drawn by you again,” he retorts, laughing as you lightly pushed his shoulder.

You raised your voice in self-defense, offering him a scolding glare. “Hey! I told you it was a steamed fish. Steamed fish! You of all people should know that well!”

Your voices faded away as you left your footsteps in the sand, the low tides pushing to support the harmony of your banter as the sun slowly settled. Safe to say, you wouldn’t be letting go of these nails blessed by the ocean anytime soon.

[random-fandom1984]

Hi welcome to tumblr for my first request can I get the tfp decepticons finding a pod and imagine their surprise when inside there is a bunch of sparklings I always head canon sparkling to look small and squishy looking like mashmellows and making beep and squeaky sounds I just love sparklings so much they are so cute

Coming right up!

Decepticons Meets Sparklings

●When coming across a signal, it was a medium-sized cylinder pod that reaches up to Megatron's *Clears throat* snatchable slutty waist- WOAH! Who said that? ●Anyways, a group of Vehicons managed to bring the pod back to the Nemesis before the Autobots could arrive. No one on the Nemesis knew what it could be, so the Vehicons made bets as to what it is. Is it a bomb? A shield that can stop an enemy from attacking? A sword that can control your opponents against their will for the rest of eternity? Definitely not 5t3v3's lame sparkling theory! ●When they opened it up, they found... 7 sparklings? 5t3v3 will forever and always rub it in the face plates of the Vehicons who doubted him. ●Some of the crew thought that this was a waste, but Megatron had an idea. If this war continues far longer than it should, they will have Younger Decepticons continuing their legacy, defeating the Autobots that have grown old, ensuring the Decepticons victory! ●So, the Decepticons were split among the crew.

Megatron

●Of course, he picked the one that was aggressive and looked the toughest out of the eight. He wasn't going to have an heir that was weak and pathetic. How he did this you ask? Simple. The one that bit Starscream's finger and wouldn't let go no matter how hard Starscream swung him around. ●Would definitely teach his sparkling how to swear, even having his kid's first word be a bad word. It's basically that one scene in Steven Universe where Peridot was trying to get Pumpkin to say "Clod". ●If he had somewhere to be, or just fight Optimus, he would let Soundwave babysit, he trusts his T.I.C. with anything. There's no way he's letting that incompetent seeker watch over his adopted child. ●He would name the sparkling Sunburst; a mighty name for his mighty sparkling to strike fear into his future enemies! ●Would teach his sparkling everything there is to know about fighting from his glory days in the Pits of Kaon as a gladiator

Starscream

●He would be last to choose, unfortunately, and get the runt of the litter. But that's fine, he can work with this. ●He would try to teach the sparkling to say "All hail Lord Starscream". The sparkling would end up calling him Sire. Starscream wouldn't act impressed in public, but in private, he would be squealing with joy; He's already, unintentionally grown attached to his sparkling. ●The bot he would allow to babysit his sparkling would be a Vehicon, mainly 5teve. ●The name he would give his sparkling would probably be Thundercracker or Skywarp, something to remind him of his old trine mates. ●Would try to push his sparkling to be better than Megatron, which would unknowingly put a strain in his relationship with his sparkling because, to his sparkling, nothing he does is ever good enough for his sire

Shockwave

●Finds Lord Megatron's reason to be... logical ●Would be the one to instantly find out which would be best for him. Don't question his methods ●Would name the sparkling Prodigy ●Will teach his sparkling all about the logics of science. Anything that his sparkling does that goes beyond the knowledge of science, proves something of his illogical, or both... he would be so proud. What is this emotion? Pride and joy? Logical. ●Would trust Predaking and or Soundwave to babysit his sparkling

Soundwave

●Others might not see it, but Soundwave would pick one that strangely looks similar to two of his old minicons Rumble and Frenzy. ●Would be the most overprotective of his sparkling. Sparkling gone from his quarters? He knows where he is; wandering the halls and is close by. His spark swells when he finds out that the reason for his sparkling's escapades is because the sparkling was looking for his sire: Soundwave! ●Would be recording and photographing his sparkling's milestones and accomplishments ●The sparkling's name would be Hightop ●Would trust Lord Megatron, Shockwave, or Knockout with babysitting his sparkling

Predaking

●This one was the closest to dying and required an Energon transfusion, and Predaking volunteered. Luckily, the sparkling survived, and because the sparkling now has Predaking's Energon, not only are they related by blood, as humans say, but now the sparkling has grown Predacon features. ●Predaking was glad to have a Predacon that wasn't made in a lab this time. He made sure his sparkling was by his side until it can do things on it's own. ●The sparkling's name would be Inferno because it can transform into something that was Phoenix shaped along with abilities. ●He will tear Starscream a new one if he'd dare lay servos on his sparkling. ●Predaking would trust Knockout, Breakdown, Shockwave, and/or Dreadwing to babysit

Knockout & Breakdown

●Knockout would pick one that was better looking than the others, and Breakdown had no say in this, but didn't complain. He knew better. ●Would act the most like real parents because they always wanted a sparkling. ●They would named the sparkling Wildbreak. ●Breakdown will trust Dreadwing to babysit his sparkling, and Knockout would trust the Vehicons. If anything bad happens to his sparkling, he wouldn't repair any Vehicons as punishment, his words not mine. ●Knockout and Breakdown will always take pictures and/or record milestones or adorable moments with their sparkling: His first words, first steps, first friend, first fight and won, etc. Next thing you know, he gets a Conjunx Endura-

5t3v3 & Other Vehicons

●Since he called it, he called dibs on being the sire ●Spends every waking moment hanging out with his sparkling, playing games, spending time together, worries that he isn't doing a good job, only for those thoughts to completely disappear when his sparkling's first word is sire, goes towards him when attempting to walk, always goes, and cries for him when the sparkling gets a nightmare. ●Would do anything for his sparkling to ensure it's safety ●When looking for a babysitter, 5t3v3 would have one of the sparkling's Vehicon Uncles take care of it if he's on duty. He wouldn't take them with him because what if the Autobots show up, kill him, and take his sparkling away? No. No way! ●The sparkling's name would be Meteoroid

[starlightsearches]

Eyes on Me Ch. 4

Masterlist

Modern Armitage Hux x F! Reader Warnings: RC is a sex-worker, discussions of sex, language.

AN: Woah!!! Can't believe this fic is back from the dead. I got a comment on Tumblr for the last chapter a few days ago and remembered I had THIS chapter started. I don't have plans for future updates, but if there's any interest that could change!

Warnings: 18+ only, sex work, piv sex, semi-public sex, jealousy, mentions of child abuse and scars from said child abuse, brendol hux makes a teeny tiny cameo, ren is there, some angst at the beginning, kind of choking but not really, forced quiet sex, language, and I think that's it!!

The tires of the black car glide silently over smooth-as-silk streets, moonlight streaming through the dark tinted windows and pooling in the space between your body and his.

Armitage doesn’t speak, eyes tracking the journey out his own window, hands rubbing absentmindedly over his thighs. You can’t blame him for his nerves—you’re feeling them, too, the sleeves of your coat collecting the sweat off your clammy palms.

Silly. You’ve done this a thousand times. 

“You’re sure no one will recognize you?” Armitage asks the window, his breath creating little circles of fog on the glass.

You hum in assent, although looking over the guest list had been a cursory act. Even if you had already fucked every man at the party somehow, none of them would spare you half a glance.

You frown, the fountain of bitterness that wells inside you bubbling again. It’s an old memory, but a harsh one, and it still stings—despite the years between you and the moment of rejection. 

You had been so much younger then, and more than a little foolish. Your client was older, and handsome, and so romantic you’d have sworn that the feelings he had for you were real. 

You still remember the way it felt, that little flash of light in your chest when you caught a glance of him at some overpriced hotel bar years after things had ended, your heartbeat in your throat. You squared your shoulders, feigning indifference as you brushed by. There was that pleasant spark when your arm nudged his own, and you could see your reflection in the depths of his eyes, feeling so beautiful now, graced again by the weight of his attention. He looked at you, and you smiled, ready for the recognition to come, ready for him to want you like he had so many times before.

And then he looked away. The moment shattered. He hadn’t recognized you at all.

Armitage stares into the black night, and you stare at him, a fracture in your heart. Would he be the same? Would there be a time, years from now, when you’d find him with someone else on his arm and no recollection of you? Would he take what he could get from you—confidence, jealousy from other men who looked your way, a good fuck—and then find someone else to give himself to, wholly and without pretense?

Imagining those years passing by, watching yourself grow a little older, a little less desirable to these men who fed their addiction on young girls . . . left alone.

Your eyes snap shut, firm, breathing rhythmically, stopping any tears before they could even appear. It’s not in your best interest to think that way. Not when your income depends on your charm. 

You reach for Armitage, pressing a hand against his arm, stroking gently over the fine material of his suit jacket.

“Everything will be fine,” you promise him, and it’s a promise to yourself, as well. You will keep him happy, and attached, for as long as you can manage. 

Armitage nods, and—to your surprise—seems to relax a little, shifting in his seat to face you, no longer shocked by or shying away from your touch. 

It’s a good thing, but the same old fear spears through your heart. How soon before he was bored of you?

“I have something for you,” Armitage whispers as he slips a dark box from one of the inner pockets of his suit, and you try to take comfort knowing that the answer is not yet. 

It’s heavy in your palms. Heavy in a way that screams of extravagance, and your palms itch at the feeling of it, of the need that drapes over you like a shroud every time you’re reminded that Armitage, and men like him, could afford to give away the kind of money some people would kill for.

You pop the lid open, breathing in the scent of leather and jewelry polish. There’s a gasp on your lips that you couldn’t have faked, even if you wanted to.

Diamonds, nestled tightly in their gleaming settings, connected by a thin string of gold, glow in the damp streetlights outside the window. It slips smoothly from the case, draping elegantly over your fingers, metal cool to the touch. You’re no appraiser, but you’ve spent enough time around fine jewelry to know what something like this would cost.

Armitage is trying not to smile, as proud as you’ve ever seen him. He had certainly agonized about this choice, the same way he agonized about most things. You’d have to write an apology to the poor store clerk who helped him pick it out. Unless they worked for commission.

He makes no move for that inner pocket again, produces no receipt—not that you could ever return something so beautiful, even if you needed the money. 

“Will you wear it?” he asks, but from the look on your face he must know the answer, slipping the necklace from your shaking hands. 

Your instincts in this area are sharp as ever, luckily, and your body turns away from him out of habit, slipping your coat from your shoulders to make room at the nape of your neck. The chain descends, crossing your line of sight again, and you almost tear up knowing that you won’t get to see it again until the evening is over. 

“A small token of my gratitude,” Armitage whispers the words, low and soft against your ear, “for accompanying me tonight.”

His fingers still at the back of your neck, slipping softly down your shoulders, stopping at your arms, skin bare, goosebumps raising in response to his touch, a shiver in your breath.

“You shouldn’t have,” you tell him, meeting his eyes over your shoulder, smiling softly. It seems like the wrong time to mention that this is what he pays you for. Or a part of it.

Armitage smirks, but it has none of the buoyant pride from earlier.

“You’re about to meet my father. I should have done much, much more.”

Brendol Hux’s estate—it felt wrong to call it a mansion, as large as it was—glowed from every window, bright enough you may have been able to see it from miles away, if it weren’t surrounded by a copse of drooping, black trees. A colossal, stately edifice, gray stone and rippling glass, you couldn’t help but think of all those period piece movies you’d been watching on your evenings alone as Armitage led you up the stairs toward the entryway, his posture rigid and tense, like he was walking onto the battlefield. 

There had been a slew of introductions—a towering, important blonde woman who never smiled, a whole host of scowling, old men who refused to look Armitage in the eye, and then the baby-faced younger ones with their neat hair and puppy-dog eagerness. They practically glowed under Armitage’s regard, although he hardly seemed to notice the worship in their eyes.

And then you had met his father. Not the fire and brimstone event that Armitage had foreseen—the conversation was short and austere, and you spent most of it trying to find a hint of Armitage in the man who stood before you, coming up blank. 

Maybe you had been rude, but who could have blamed you? You’ve seen the scars.

Armitage never spoke about them—the flat burns from the end of a cigarette that dotted his arms, stretched thin over the corded muscle, or the narrow white bands across his back that flexed with each shift of his shoulders. He never said a word, even if his cheeks grew ruddy when he felt your fingers brush against them, his eyes turning dark. 

So what if you had been rude? Armitage paid you for lots of things, but your loyalty came for free. 

All that unpleasantness is over now. A glass of champagne in hand, you’ve found a private corner together, sharing smiles and soft words between sips of the fizzy wine, your head buzzing pleasantly each time Armitage strokes a finger over the chain around your neck. 

“Should we go?”

It’s wrong of you to ask—this is his event, and you’ll stay as long as he needs, even if it means ignoring that pleasant ache between your thighs for a little longer. 

Armitage almost smiles, leaning in closer—much too close, given the way so many eyes catch as they cross your path—his breath hot and damp against your ear, full of illicit promises. A shiver blossoms over your skin.

But you never hear whatever sins Armitage is about to share. You’re interrupted, a dark shadow stepping into your line of sight.

“Armitage, you haven’t introduced me to your date.”

He’s a tall man—taller than Armitage, even—voice low and rumbling, like the tremors before an earthquake. His hair is unruly and dark, long enough it brushes the collar of his jacket. The suit is fine, but stretched taut over his broad shoulders, a little too tight to be considered well-cut. His eyes rake over you, shamelessly, from the hem of your dress to where the necklace rests against your collar bone. Armitage scowls beside you.

“Ren,” Armitage says, but it’s less an introduction and more a warning.

You take the hand Ren offers you, stuttering out your name when he lifts it to his mouth, brushing his lips across your knuckles, eyes meeting yours—dark and intense, like fresh coal on a smoldering fire. 

“A pleasure,” he tells you. The feeling isn’t mutual.

But you’ll try to keep up appearances, offering a faint smile as you take your hand from his barely-loosened grip, fingers brushing against his calloused palm. Armitage stiffens, a hand sliding against the curve of your spine, settling stiffly against your hip before pulling you closer.

“So,” Ren asks, ignoring the gesture and the waves of displeasure emanating from Armitage, “how did you two meet?”

Oh, joy—a quiz. Ren is as skeptical as you’ve ever seen a man, but that only strengthens your resolve.

“Online,” you answer curtly, making your lack of interest apparent, broadcasting it with another sip of champagne and a longing look in Armitage’s direction. You don’t care if Ren thinks you’re rude for it. You could be getting railed in the back of a private car right now if it weren’t for him. 

Ren only hums, a smirk on his lips. “Really?”

You nod, but don’t say anymore. For every client you’d ever had, there were about a thousand men like Ren—suspicious types, hoping to trip you up, or expose you—and none of them were as clever as they thought. You know Ren wants you to ramble out explanations, to stumble into a mistake as he collected the pieces he needed to embarrass Armitage. 

You’d let him choke on your stony silence, instead. 

“I had no idea online dating could be so . . . effective. And what is it you do?”

“Philanthropy.” 

A rote answer—you’d attended enough parties with the upper echelon to know that any interest in your career would die as soon as that word passed your lips.

But Ren doesn’t stumble.

“Charity cases?” Ren’s smirk turns into a smile, teeth bared, “is that what this is?”

He gestures with the hand holding his whiskey glass, pointing first at you, then at Armitage, as if the meaning wasn’t already clear.

Armitage flinches, pulling from your side with a half-step, like he might start shouting at Ren, or maybe skip the formalities and punch him square in the jaw. 

You still him with a hand to his chest. Your eyes stay locked on Ren’s.

“No, not at all!” you assure him, words dripping with sincerity, “I’m more than happy to chat with any of Armitage’s coworkers.”

Ren’s smile falls at the insult, and you feel your own grow wider, wicked and petty. Serves him right. 

Armitage radiates with satisfaction, touch possessive as his fingers press more tightly into your waist. He leans in—closer than necessary, lips just brushing the shell of your ear—but his whispered words are plenty loud.

“Let’s go, love. I’m bored.”

You let Armitage lead you away, sending Ren a sarcastic little wave over your shoulder.

You had thought he would take you back through the front doors and into the chill night air, but you’re mistaken. He weaves smoothly through the other guests, around the edge of the party and into a quiet hallway where the light doesn’t reach.

“In here,” he tells you, grabbing a door seemingly at random and ushering you inside. It’s a bathroom—small, but still glittering with gilt-edges and frames and ornate wall-paper—full of fine soaps and plush towels that look as if they’ve never been used.

Behind you, the lock clicks as it slides into place.

“Armitage, what are you—”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish, and doesn’t answer either, not with words. There’s the press of his fingers, curling in the chain around your neck, pulling you in close until his mouth meets your own.

The kiss is harsh, crushing, tainted with a need you hadn’t seen before. It has your mouth open, a harsh breath sucked through your lips, but it’s Armitage’s tongue that fills the gap, tasting the wine you had been drinking when it brushes against your own. The fastener for the necklace digs into the top of your spine.

Your mouth shifts from his, but Armitage is undeterred, hot breath heavy against your cheek, free hand gripping a handful of your ass.

“You’ll break it,” you admonish him, forcing the meeting of your eyes.

Armitage is unflinching, his body heavy as it presses your hips into the edge of the marble countertop. You can feel the shape of him through the thin fabric of his trousers, feel the way he aches for you. 

He’s unapologetic, nudging your mouth back where he wants it. “I’ll buy you another.”

Jesus. You had been wrong before, in the car. There are no men like Armitage Hux. 

But he does concede a little, shifting his hand like you had asked, fingers circling your neck instead. Armitage keeps your mouth on his with a firm and unequivocal grip, grinding into you, both aching and persistent and you can feel yourself dripping, panting with need that he’s created with so little effort. The air grows hot around you, a thin sheen of sweat blossoming across your cheeks. 

“Armitage.” 

You want to ask him here? now? But you can’t, your desperation is clear in the pitch of his name, the way it crawls from you, clinging to the hollow of his throat and the flush of blood that creeps over his skin. 

Armitage hears it, matches its feverish want, collecting the silky material of your skirt in both of his hands, pulling it up until your knees are bared, your thighs, the black lace that covers you beneath it. 

You help him, so eager, too eager, even, the fabric almost slipping from your grip. Armitage traces his fingers up the inside of your thigh, fits his hand in the space between. Your hips shift against him involuntarily, a gasp from your lungs when the tip of his finger brushes against your clit.

And Armitage watches with ice-gray eyes, drinks in your body’s reaction to him, to his touch at your sensitive cunt, to the other back on your neck, squeezing slightly. Soft, spattered moans spill from your lips with each breath, and his fingers must be damp now, given the way your underwear clings to your skin.

It hasn’t been like this with him. Armitage is never so demanding, never this sure of himself. There’s always been a sense of deference from him, an apology that preceded every touch. The absence of it has your legs shaking, lungs shallow.

“Are you ready for me?” he asks, and you nod against his hold.

Armitage has to take his hands off you to slip his belt from the buckle, and you miss the feeling, unmoored and shaky, knees hollow, palms pressed into the counter to support your weight. You might fall to the floor if he doesn’t hurry.

But Armitage is methodical in this, and everything else, freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers, slipping the condom from his pocket and splitting the wrapper with his teeth.

You had watched him tuck it into his pocket earlier, embarrased, attempting to be subtle, and had found the gesture sweet. 

There’s nothing sweet about him now, as he approaches you again, places one hand at your hip and the other back between your thighs, slipping the sticky fabric out of the way. Your cunt twitches, met by cool air and his soft, probing fingers. There’s a sob on your lips when he just brushes at your clit.

“You have to be quiet,” Armitage warns, and you faintly remember the party just outside the door—his father, and that dark-haired man, the rude one, although you can’t recall his name.

Armitage slips the head of his cock inside your aching hole, presses the palm of his other hand tight against your lips, and you moan into it, feel the vibrations singing through your cheeks.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, thrusting deeper, filling you more until the stretch is divine, an incomparable ache.

Armitage works his way into you, thrusts measured and even, your body nudging against the counter with each movement until you’re sure there will be a silly-looking bruise across your ass cheeks when he’s done with you. You can’t care about that, though, not with the press of his hand and the smell of his skin, and the thick trail of his cock brushing past that spot inside you, the one that has tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, pooling against his fingers and dripping down his wrist.

And Armitage takes it all, watching you fall apart for him, practically unblinking. His own moans come out sharp through gritted teeth, matching the pace of your own, the crescendoing spark that builds and builds in the pit of your stomach. 

There’s his fingers against your clit, coaxing the spark into a flame, tracing the edges of it until you’re afraid that someone might hear the wet, echoing squelch of your pussy. 

Armitage loses some of his well-maintained discipline at the feeling of it, the tremors just beginning to travel through your cunt, clinging to him, inviting him deeper, asking for more. He falls into you, your chest pressed to his, the damp heat of his breath against your ear, and you can feel the brush of his jaw as it tenses, the way his body fights against its own release, desperate to give you yours.

“Come for me,” Armitage begs, “please.” 

You do, because you can’t think of a thing you wouldn’t do for him, if he asked it. Because you’re finding that there is no limit to your loyalty, and because you want to feel him unravel against you, and he won’t if you don’t first.

Your vision darkens, body spiraling, submerged in pleasure, in the feeling of him—the drag of his cock and the weight of his fingers against your clit. In other things, too. Softer things. His breath against your neck, the kiss he presses to the space behind your ear, delicate and wanting. 

Maybe he thinks you won’t notice, occupied as you are. But you do.

He spills soon after with an unmistakable flood of heat, thrusts slowing until they stop, his cock seated inside you. And it feels right. 

Armitage comes back to himself, dropping his hand from your mouth, and you suck in a heavy breath, filling your lungs until your breathing slows, enjoying the press of his chest against yours. Your legs grow steadier, and so you release your grip on the edge of the table, stroking a hand down his spine, slipping a hand through the hair at the edge of his collar.

His lips are quirked at the edges, when he meets your eyes again, giddy, maybe. Proud, certainly, at his boldness. You can’t resist kissing his beautiful mouth, the feeling of that smirk growing into a smile. 

“Now we can leave,” he tells you, pulling back from your embrace. You’re colder without him, goosebumps dotting the skin of your arms.

He slips the condom off, tucks himself back into his trousers as you adjust your own clothing, checking your appearance in the mirror.

There are tear tracks, glistening against your cheeks, and you brush them away with both hands, flushing at the mess he’s made of you.

Armitage doesn’t seem disturbed by this at all, offering you his arm. You reach for him, and then pull back, hesitant.

“Shouldn’t we leave separately?” you ask, “people might . . . talk.”

They would definitely talk, of course. There was nothing a group of rich people liked more than spitting venomous words about each other when backs were turned. No doubt your absence had already been noticed, and there was no telling how many people had watched you walk into this hallway together. 

Armitage remains unbothered, even if his thoughts mirror your own.

“Let them talk.”

He leaves no room for argument, and so you take the arm he offers, stepping from the bathroom door and into the empty hallway.

Previously empty hallway. You almost stumble into a man, an apology already spilling from your lips before you’ve even made contact.

Oh. Not just any man. The man, the one from before. 

Ren.

He turns to face you, annoyance creasing his brow, morphing into shock when he sees Armitage following behind you. 

“Excuse us,” you tell him, slipping past his wide frame, “we were just leaving.” 

Ren nods, stunned into silence, and you hold back a giggle. Armitage takes your hand in his, trailing behind you lazily. You don’t have to watch him to know that he wears his pride like armor, shoulders thrown back, victorious in every sense of the word. 

It might be wishful thinking, but you don’t think Armitage will ever forget this.

[downforthegas]

Fart kink asks (all 25 bc why not)

Woah uhhhh damn thank you so much!!! I'm glad I can finally answer the questions I've always wanted to!!! Here we go:

When did you realize you were into farts? Age 16 when I first learned how to touch myself

How did you figure out you were into farts? Probably fart jokes in shows, you know how it goes (live action scooby doo movie ruined a generation lol)

What’s your favorite type of fart? Quite a lot. Bubbly, wet, bassy, rumbly, silent, squeaky, etc. The kind that smell awful, like rotten cheese, milk, or eggs

Are there any types of fart you don’t like? Of course not. Farts are farts. Even the short, quiet ones have their charm

What about farting do you find most appealing? Probably the smell but sound is really hot too. As for the types of farter, I'm a big fan of embarrassment, but confidence is also suuuuper hot depending on what I'm in the mood for

Do you have a preferred length or volume for farts? I mean not really but I find myself fantasizing about long farts. Even hyperfarts that last for hours maybe even days on end (i guess I do have a preferred length lol). As for volume, any is fine, but if it's long, its extra hot if its bubbly and quiet or silent

Does farting turn you on on its own or do you need to already be in the mood? Farting can turn me on in an instant like a switch

Do you have any other digestion-related kinks? Ooh so many. Burps, piss (I think that counts), scat, and vomit (but not for real, just in my head). Even general stomach issues like bloating and indigestion and even heart burn are hot

Do you have any other kinks that you enjoy being paired with farting? Farts and burps, farts and bloating, farts and scat, farts and spanking, farts and tying up, ugh the possibilities are endless

Is farting a must in sexual situations or is it more of a bonus? It's sort of a must but I don't want it to be. I try to get off to regular stuff with my partners (we still do farts stuff too), and I do but its hard bc its always been farts I've touched myself to. But I'm willing to change. Besides, not using farts helps me last longer

Have you ever acted on your desires IRL in an explicitly kinky manner? With myself? Yes. Not yet with my partners though

Is having a partner who can fart well important to you? Not really but it's nice when you have it, like I do right now hehe

Does anyone you personally know know about your kink? Two of my friends, one I still talk to. They're both really accepting. I think I told my sister but she was probably so traumatized, she forgot lol

Has anyone ever noticed/suspected your kink without you telling them about it? Not yet. Thank god though. Maybe my sis is getting suspicious but I'm not sure (if she really did forget)

Is there any media that you enjoy specifically for farts in it? Not a specific media in particular (I imagine my faves farting more if they're from medias with no fart jokes) but I do like looking at fart comps on youtube, mostly from cartoons

Do you have a favorite farting-related content creator (on tumblr or otherwise)? For fart models, I love Love Rachelle, Selena Loca, Santana Redd, Emma Ink, and Natasha F. For artists, there's too many to list but I love a lot of twitter artists like Carafalsa, ProButtonMasher, GasTank, and Solloros. For people on Tumblr, I love @sweetbubblies for their ocs. They include a lot of hyperfart stuff and I think they got me into diaper stuff. @grossgeck is awesome too. They're extra weird like me and it makes me feel less alone in this community

Would you ever consider recording your farts? Oh I recorded SO MANY of my farts and posted some here.

Are you a shy farter or do you fart freely? Depends who I'm around. Around fam? Strangers? Friends? no. Best friends and lovers? Yes but I get a little hesitant with best friends hehe

Are you good at farting? Uhhh well my farts smell bad and some can be like 5 seconds so I guess I'm good. But I'm EXCELLENT at pumped farts. I can fart on command and I can suck in a lot of air

Do you prefer farting yourself or hearing others fart? Either way I'm happy lol

Have you ever gotten into trouble for farting in a place or situation where you shouldn’t have? Ooh not yet but I have fantasized about trying that in a public setting somewhere. I am into humiliation after all

Have you ever gotten turned on by farting in an inconvenient place or situation? Again, no, but it turns me on to think about

Have you ever tried to make yourself gassy in order to fart? Oh I kinda do it all the time! Whether it's with food, chocolate milk (my love) and pumping air in me

Do you have any favorite foods or drinks for encouraging farting? Spicy foods, leafy green veggies, super greasy foods, and chocolate milk/regular milk

What’s your biggest fantasy involving farting? Me and both my current partners are gassy and they can both fart freely around me, but I have to have a plug in me until they say I'm allowed to pull it out. If we're having sex, I'm not allowed to take it out until I cum. Maybe they make me take it out in public so I'm forced to fart in front of a bunch of people. Or they need to be in the hot tub after sex. But there's no hot tub. But hey, there's enough bubbles in my system to make it one

[starsinkpop]

what do you think if theres blogs that are not only deeply obsessing with finding out ateez members exact fs but they also discussing their potential body parts. I tried telling them how weird and gross it was of them but they tell me I was taking it too far. what the fuck? am sorry but this kpop tarot thing is what is taking ppls obsession with idols fs too far. its bordering on creepy rn and its not just one blog theres like several of them that mainly focus on idols fs.

some blogs be claiming they dont dig too much but then they still think it ok to even discuss idols sexuality or some other aspect of their personal life.

i’m not really on that side of tumblr or social media so i can’t really say much about it. i have clear boundaries. im fine with certain readings about ateez’s fs but i wouldn’t do more readings than i have online right now. we already know more than enough. i keep getting a crazy amount of asks in my inbox of people trying to fit especially san’s fs aspects. i’m deleting all of them because none of those people reading my stuff and also myself will be their fs. some people really need to touch some grass. when i see certain physical traits in a reading i point them out, however i focus on personality only. what’s bothering me is how almost everyone on here in my inbox assumes that the members are straight. making their fs a girl at all times. we don’t know their sexuality and it’s quite frankly none of our business. we don’t know if their straight or part of the lgbtq+ community. this is why i keep my readings gender neutral because we don’t know shit.

now in general i don’t want to spread any negativity because life itself is already a big struggle for most of us. i want my blog to be a place where people could just entertain themselves for a bit and. so i won’t say anything about other readers because i honestly just can’t. like i said, im not on that side of tumblr. i get your point but you have to remember you’re telling me this, im a kpop (well just ateez) tarot reader myself and i’ve done reading about their fs too so 🤷‍♀️🤣 like i said, i have my boundaries with readings, won’t do any sexual readings and i don’t focus on looks. being someone who was crazily sexualized since being a child, i really hate this side of any fandom. there’s too many obsessions going on. you wanna know what happened when i saw the most recent pool pics of the members, especially san and woo? as a gym girly i was like “woah i really need to know their routine so i can shape my body like theirs” i can just admire them. viewers here are a little too delulu and have a hard time sticking to reality and form an own opinion it feels like. and I’m sure some readers feed into that. it’s giving you a ton of likes and if that’s their main purpose for posting i guess i get it. that doesn’t mean i’m okay with that but i know many people need validation like that. whenever there’s people coming up and officially date like twice’s jihyo for example i always feel really warm around my heart. gives me the feeling they can still have a bit of a normal life.

i don’t really have anything else to say and only repeat myself. i don’t know if i’m the right person to talk to about that, i do readings and did fs readings like what you just complaint about, but i have boundaries and know what’s reality. none of us will be with any of them, ever and viewers should stop honestly believing “omg XYs fs is like this and that, i’m just like that it has to be me they have to do more detailed readings so i can make it fit for myself”.

on another note, and this is in no means anything bad or hate whatsoever, i love getting asks from you but those long asks are sometimes a bit much because im not your diary, love 🤣 no hate. but it just felt like a rant and i do really like rants but my inbox is maybe not the best place for that because i don’t want to spam any of my followers page with that you know?

edit: you can still send me longer asks, but please try fitting the stuff you want to say into one ask and not three or more 💖

[lyricalnonsens3]

Woah, longer post about not Pokemon? Well, thought about it a while and I thought it'd be nice to post about since I'm sure somebody would enjoy it.

I am by all means, not a healthy individual. I eat crap. I do not exercise. I stay up late. Some of these things I can't change. Whether or not I sleep at night is a lovely cursed luck of the draw game if I'm unlucky. But, I feel like I could do more in other fields. I can be healthier. I know that. So, hopefully, to inspire me to walk more , I'm going to take nice, varying length walks, where I braindump to Tumblr along the way any stories that caught my eye, whatever I ate that day, whatever. Will anyone read them? I have no clue. Maybe somebody will pop them onto text to speech while they work out, or read them on their own walks. I don't know. But, I hope this inspires somebody else to take their health into their own hands in their own way. You don't have to run a kilometre or whatever; if you aren't moving at all, any movement is better. I find it really hard to motivate myself to go on walks. It's really boring where I live, and there are two of these rabid little dogs who never shut up every time you walk past the property. And, my room is really cosy. I'd rather stay in it, even if my motivation was ground bottom and actually deciding to get up and clean my space didn't happen so many times my room looked like a bomb went off.

On the same topic, I am so having so much fun with my meal choices recently. Today I had these microwave sauce udon noodle bowl things, which I had never seen before, and it was just awesome. And another day I had like twenty things tossed in one of those Buldak noodle bowls, which, despite burning my poor tongue off, was fantastic. Totally recommend.

WELLP I'm probably gonna turn around on this walk of mine soon, so, it's time to stop yapping. 👋👋

Slán!

[petewentzisblack1312]

how'd you get into fall out boy? My friend (and later girlfriend) got me into them in middle school, and I'm always interested to hear how others did.

Hope easier times are ahead for you as well!

sooooo when i was like 6 or 8 or 4 or something i saw w picture of an emo guy on tv and was absolutely terrified by him like i thought he was so scary and was like rock and roll is scary this is not for me im NEVER listening to it. and i avoided it like the plague. then i watched big hero 6 with a friend and heard immortals and was like WOAH that song RULES so i listened to it over and over and was like i love this! lemme hear the album so i listened to it on shuffle and was like i love this! lemme hear the bands discography. at some point i realised this was rock music and i broke my rule. anyway then i listened to srar on shuffle and was like i love this! and then i listened to folie on shuffle. disloyal order played first and i was like huh? i thought i shuffled it, why is the first song playing first? so i went to shuffle it.

and then i heard the organ.

and then i heard patricks voice.

after that i listened to the album in order. i now listen to albums exclusively in order. that song taught me what contemporary music could be.

i was hooked and obsessed and looked up fall out boy on tumblr and i think that was my first real fandom on here if it wasnt wtnv. my original tumblr url was the-1-with-the-glasses or something like that. eventually i had deadnarrival and soulpunkboxes and mrsashleyfrangipani and diykordie and probably others.

then i had an art assignment to draw peoples facial features and i looked up pete wentz and i found the picture that made me avoid alternative music like the plague and it was him. i think it was like tmz talking about him or something. i literally would have been a fall out boy fan for much longer if it werent for pete wentz. hilarious.

[vitaminwaterreviews]

3776 - Saijiki

Let me tell you the story of how I came across this album.

When I was a kid, my dad had me go to a writing workshop at the library every week. It was there that I learned how much I enjoyed writing. I wrote all sorts of things: stories, scenes, characters, and poetry. I wrote some of my first haiku at that workshop.

In 2020, the world fell apart for a bit, and my life did too. 

In 2021, I was hospitalized for suicidal ideation. In the psych ward, the patients were each given a paper crane. We were also taught how to make them. So, I learned how to fold paper cranes. In keeping with the theme, I figured I’d write some haiku about the psych ward.

A few months after I got out of the psych ward, I spent some time watching anime with a friend of mine. One of the movies that we watched was called The Garden of Words. The characters in the film read tanka. I had never heard of tanka. So I looked into them, and tanka quickly became my favorite form of poetry. In particular, tanka gave me a newfound appreciation for haiku, which I had lost interest in years before.

Another anime movie that we watched during that time was Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop. This is a movie about haiku. And between these two movies, I suddenly became extremely interested in classical Japanese poetry.

At some point around that time, I became interested in kpop music. This led me to Le Sserafim, which led me to Miyawaki Sakura, which led me to IZ*One, which led me to AKB48.

At some point, Netflix restricted how accounts could be shared. This meant that I could no longer watch Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop.

Last winter, I totalled my car. Because I couldn’t go anywhere to do anything anymore, I began reviewing albums on a tumblr page.

This weekend, I’m cat sitting at my mother’s house. My mother has access to Netflix. So, I opened Netflix to see what I could watch that I didn’t normally have access to. I ended up watching Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop, which I hadn’t seen in years.

The main character, Cherry, mentioned something called a “Saijiki.” So, as someone very interested in classical Japanese poetry, I looked up “Saijiki.” This brought me to the Wikipedia page for Saijiki. At the top of the page, it said “For music album, see Saijiki (3776 album)”. So I hovered over the link to the album, and it mentioned that it was by a Japanese idol unit. As someone now interested in idol culture, I clicked the link. I found out that 3776 was inspired by AKB48. And, since I had a reason to listen to and review albums, I listened to and reviewed the album.

8.7

- January

Kpop has nothing on this

Haha okay, here’s the beat

Sorry I didn’t type at all for like the first third of that, too busy listening

This is So good

Me singing ode to joy along with them

9/10, only because I expect I’ll need to leave room to go higher

February

Woah okay, now we’re all loud and stuff

Actually, for some reason I’m reminded of In Love With A Ghost

I think it’s the synths being used

This album treats vocals like they’re a joke haha

8/10

March

This feels like a continuation of February

I wonder if they blend together like that?

I’m listening to them in a playlist so I can’t tell

I love the guitar in this section. It definitely feels more like spring

Also, birds? I think I hear birds

The guitar scratches sound like birds too

9/10

April

Electric guitar

Sakura sakura

The drums, the synth, mmm

9/10

May

I love the flute oh my god

Lol wtf is this bass doing

Oh hey the flute is back

I think this is a different flute

9/10

June

The guitars and the bass are So nice

The vocals … I think I enjoy less

The whistling is so good though

Haha and here’s the electric guitar

7/10, I’m starting to become disillusioned, give me something Good

July

This does actually feel kind of like July to me

And now we’re all Hype

And here’s the electric guitar, except it’s different again

I do like this one a lot actually

9/10

August

(I’m reading comments on the video instead of typing)

Oh no, I’m starting to get worried by the piano, it’s all gonna get Sad now bc summer is Over

9/10

September

Yep, this sure does feel like september

Actually I’m getting more November out of it almost

I guess the drums aren’t very November

Does this feel like back to school though? I can’t tell

8/10

October

This does not totally feel like October to me

I guess I could see how it is though

8/10

November

Lol wait what is this, dance pop?

I should also mention that the vocals in this remind me so much of that one Vi Hart video with the musical line doodle things, I forget what it’s titled

Yeahhh the bass drum though

9/10, the pew pews are so funny

December

December ain't never this hype, no way

Maybe in Japan December is this hype

Well now she’s singing about christmas and there are also jingle bells so I mean

(This got me dancing)

10/10

[spacepup2-0]

Chapter Two | New Body (1/2)

summary: Looks like the scale that Dakota bought was more than it seemed.

ao3 Link! to this chapter!

Last Chapter <-{}-> Next Chapter

Note- Had to cut this one into two parts because Tumblr wouldn't let me post the full thing.

The walk back home was peaceful as usual, spotting a few birds and squirrels going on with their day. To fill the quiet air, he started to hum a song to keep himself company while walking, his basket gently swaying. Stepping up onto the porch he stomps his foot to get the dirt off his boots before walking inside and slipping off his boots at the front door.

“I’m back!” Dakota shouted, walking to the kitchen to put down the basket of goods. While Dakota had never been the best at cooking, he was slowly learning by helping his mother in the kitchen. “Good, I've already cut up and marinated the rabbit.” she stated, while boiling the wine and waiting for the alcohol to evaporate. Dakota opened a cabinet and took out a pot to cook the vegetables in.

“I add the rabbit, wine, and vegetable broth now, right?” Dakota asked while holding the rabbit, ready to add it into the pot.

“Exactly,” Amelia said with a soft smile “Someday you may be as good as me!” she chuckled while watching Dakota add in the ingredients.

Dakota chuckled, “I wish! Your cooking will always be better than mines!” He said, placing the top on the pot.

“Now we’ll let it cook until it’s nice and tender.” Amelia explained, washing her hands in the sink and wiping it dry. Dakota hummed while he looked out at their field, it had gotten much smaller as his mother got older since his mother no longer had the energy as she used to take care of a bigger field and Dakota had a lot of chores since he had to go back and forth between the town and his home. He turned to look at his mother who was now sitting in her rocking chair while reading the newspaper.

“What do you think about Silfast taking over soon?” Dakota inquired, taking a seat on the camel bridge couch next to her rocking chair.

“I think it’s dumb,” Amelia complained “We don’t have a single thing here for them to take.” Dakota started to regret asking as he had now sent his mother into a giant rant about why Silfast taking over Sunpass was dumb. If he was honest, he didn’t pay attention to most of what she was saying. Only nodding an humming to giver her the illusion that he was listening to her, it was better than speaking and making the whole tirade worse than it already was, but soon enough it was over.

“Dumb kings...” Amelia grumbled as she got up to check on the rabbit stew. Practically throwing the newspaper on her chair. ” Alright…Silfast is not a good topic to bring up.” Dakota mentally noted, picking up the newspaper to see what else was going on.

Dakota quietly read some of the newspaper out loud to himself. “Let’s see…traveling merchants. Upcoming festivals...” nothing that caught his eye, so he put the newspaper back down then he remembered about the scale he had bought. So, with a quick pep in his step, he walked into the dining room to grab the scale out the backset and examine it some more. If you rubbed the scale one way, then it was smooth but if you rubbed it another way then it was rough. He held the scale up to the light to see how it reflected the light, creating a small rainbow. “Woah...” Dakota whisper under his breath. He wasn’t an expert on dragon scales by any means so he couldn’t figure out if it was real or just a really well make fake scale, but he thought it was a good catch either way.

[icyfox17]

Wait Woah I didn't see these notifs OHMYGOD THE TUMBLR NOTES GLITCH IS REAL??? OGUHIHIHIHI (apparently tumblr hasn't been showing notifs all the time wtfff bitchhh)

Wdym there's nothing to look at. WDYM THERE'S NOTHING TO LOOK AT GIRL?$?_!&!!$(3?&_ I HAVE SENT U SO MANY PRETTY RAINY DAY PHOTOS WTF??$?_?_? ONE OF MY FAV THINGS TO DO IS WATCH RAIN I CANT BELIEVE YOUVE DONE THIS TO ME, WE CAN NO LONGER BE FRIENDS YOU HAVE SLANDERED RAIN TOO MUCH /j /bit

ONCE???? ONCEM?$??_&??__??$?$ wtf... wherever u live is not real wtf... how u gonna get snow and rain but NO HAIL?? HUH?? yeah no hail is the worst thing ever that shit HURTS wtf man

Rain or snow or wind or hail

omg I’ll rank .

1. Wind. I think this is a requirement for all ice skaters bro. Like the feeling of the cold air against you when you’re going fast…..holy shit. Sometimes I just stop practicing spins to take a brief intermission in which I just skate a lap for the thrill. Wind is super cool imo

2. Hail. It just sounds cool. It also might like. Kill you. What if you get that shit in your eye huh. What would you do.

3. Snow. I actually don’t like snow that much bc I cannot handle the cold LMAOOO you might think that figure skating means I love the cold but nope. Figure skating makes me sweat half of the time so. Yeah. I shake a lot. When I’m incredibly anxious, my hands start shaking. When I am incredibly cold, I just start spontaneously shaking. It’s great I feel like a cartoon character. BUT watching snow from inside my home is nice so

4. Rain LMAOOO im sorry foxie but rain is only pleasant when I’m inside. AND OCCASIONALLY light drizzles but that only works when I’m already in a good mood okay. I’m so sorry.

[ranaissingle]

Coffee or Tea pt.1

Part 2

Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Coffee Shop AU where the reader goes to the same coffee shop often to read books, study, or just drink tea and stare at the walls lol. The reader notices Austin and chaos ensues Rating: M (nothing in this chapter but other things will come later)

Pairings: Austin Butler x fem!reader Word Count: 519

Warnings: age-gap (VERY CONSENSUAL THO) Authors Note: She is 21 so there WILL BE an age gap between her and Austin and that will be addressed throughout the story multiple times. If that’s not your cup of tea, feel free to click away. Also for the sake of this story, we are going to pretend that Elvis is available to watch online without pirating it haha. This fic will be multiple parts but I wouldn't call it a slow burn either. This is the first fanfic that I am posting so be nice to me plssssss.                                          

◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦

 College was never enjoyable save for the afternoons that y/n spent in the embrace of a comfy chair and a mug of tea while she tackled her latest homework from her Organic Chemistry class. She always seemed to spend hours at the coffee shop pouring over anatomical diagrams and periodic tables. She occupied the same table so often that the staff became accustomed to her drink order and preference for pastries.

      So here y/n sat, at the same chair, with the same drink, and the same textbooks, studying just like she always did. And like clockwork, another person came to that same coffee shop just as often as y/n and he always noticed her in the corner of the store with a crinkle in her brow and a chewed-up pen in her mouth. Austin Butler was by all means a shy guy, so much so that even though he saw her every. single. time. he came in, he had not yet said a single word to her. Even though he desperately wanted to.

~ 5 months ago ~

      It was June. And it was hot. So hot in fact, that y/n simply could not take it any longer and decided to take haven inside Crazy Love Café. Despite the weather outside, y/n smiled at the familiar barista as she went up to the front desk.

" Hey y/n! The usual?"

" Yes please!" Her reply came swiftly as she denoted it with another small smile. She paid and sat at her usual spot with a book she planned to read as well as her computer.

" ORDER FOR Y/N. A MOROCCAN MINT TEA WITH SUGAR"

     She couldn't help the smile that graced her face as took a sip of her drink and settled down in the comfy chair to start watching her movie on her computer. The Elvis movie had come out last month and being an avid listener to said singer meant that y/n was required to view this film. So, y/n propped up her computer, opened the streaming website, and put the movie to play, unbeknownst to her, the very actor in the movie had also stumbled into the same coffee to avoid the scorching heat.

     He ordered his coffee and unknowingly sat quite close to the girl viewing his movie.

“ ORDER FOR AUSTIN. BLACK COFFEE!’

    Austin relaxed back into his chair with his coffee and phone resolving to scroll through social media to pass the time. Austin eyed the décor of the shop. It was a quant café with renaissance paintings framed in gold hanging from every wall. Plants scattered the floor as well as the walls and the windows seemed to reflect the sunlight into rainbows onto the wood floor. He followed the reflection of one such rainbow to the face of a girl.

woah

      The first thought that came to Austin’s mind was soft. She looked so very soft. His eyes strayed to her computer only to find her watching, his movie? She was watching.. his movie? Austin immediately faced forward before he was caught zoning out on a girl that was watching his movie.

~ To be Continued~

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Part 2 here!

Masterlist

Thank you for reading!!! The next part will be coming soon!!!

Edit: I am new to posting fanfiction on Tumblr, so if there are other authors out there who have tips or tricks for me, that would be absolutely amazing and I would literally worship the ground you walk on, haha.

[ahockeywrites]

Better in Hoboken - Quinn Hughes

Authors note: let’s try this a second time because tumblr has decided to take a shit and fuck my formatting up 🙄. Thank you so much to @antoineroussel for organising the fic exchange I’ve had so much fun writing this story and I hope you enjoy it. I was matched with @torontoflames and I hope I’ve created a little story that you enjoy!

Warnings: underage alcohol consumption, swearing

Word count: 3.5k

Jack watched as Quinn scowled at his phone once again, clearly receiving another negative response from his friends about coming to the lake house over summer. Luke had invited his friends over from Michigan and Jack already had some friends over from when he was in the US National Team Development Program. Jack knew that Josh Norris was coming for a week slightly later in the summer but that was it.

“Probably not gonna make you feel much better, but I’ve got a friend coming over next week who’s your age,” Jack explained.

“Jack,” Quinn groaned, “you think inviting one of your hookups from Jersey is gonna make me feel any better?” It was as if Jack wasn’t even thinking about how his brother would understand his comment. From Quinn’s perspective, the only person he knew at the lake house was Nick Blankenburg from their time at Michigan together but it felt like he was imposing on Luke’s group of friends.

“Woah woah,” Jack started to recoil back, “Y/N is not a hookup. She went out on a few sort of dates with Nico because she’s friends with Ty’s girlfriend but nothing ever came of it and she just stuck around and joined our friendship group. She’s sound, an engineering student at Rutgers, but can’t go home as she’s international so I invited her here for a week, maybe longer if she wants to.”

Quinn showed the slightest hint of a smile, thinking that maybe he might not be the only one who barely knows anyone. “Okay,” he conceded, well, conceded might not be the right word. He was excited to have someone his own age hanging around not just Michigan freshman.

A few days had passed, and aside from having a few beers on a boat, wakeboarding, and going to the gym, Quinn really didn’t do much. Yes, he enjoyed cooking dinner for everyone on the barbecue and occasionally baking with his mother. But he felt isolated, that was until Jack announced to everyone that he was going to the airport to pick Y/N up.

All of Jack’s friends started whooping and Quinn could specifically hear Cole asking if she was Jack’s girlfriend, which he denied once again. “Just a friend who would be alone all summer if she didn’t come here.”

Just a friend. Those words rung around in Quinn’s head. He really hoped that his brother and Y/N really hadn’t done anything together because he had gone and found her Instagram profile and although it was on private, he sent a request. Within a few hours the words requested turned into following and he had gained himself a new follower too.

The feed contained photos of her studying, one at a Devils game where she was hanging out with some of the girlfriends and another from a night out with some of Jack’s teammates. The pair of them may not have been dating but they certainly were good friends.

Quinn couldn’t help but look at her Instagram feed and think that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Beautiful and smart was a winning combination in his eyes. All could hope was that she was funny to, or at least funny to him.

He had completely zoned out thinking about her, thinking what she could be like. It wasn’t until he heard the sound of keys jingling and Jack shouting that he was home, he came back to reality. Alex and Cole seemed to be sprinting back into the family room, dripping with chlorinated water from the pool. Nick was following closely behind, trying to get them to at least wrap a towel around themselves so they didn’t stain the carpets of the house.

“Boys, Y/N,” Jack introduced her. “Y/N, the boys.”

“Can’t wait for me to be the only girl once again,” she spoke whilst rolling her eyes. Y/N was used to hanging around with just guys, she thought it was just easier to hang around with them. Yes, she hung around with the WAGs occasionally and was also the go to person for events. It started with Nico after their failed tinder dates, then when the captain started dating Abbie, she was Jack’s go to.

Y/N had become like an older sister to Jack, helping him to cook and do basic house tasks which he struggled with. But he was always there when she needed him, like after her boyfriend had cheated on her, Jack was there as a friend with a pint of ice cream in the freezer and her favourite wine on the wine rack.

Jack did have the feeling that Sebastian was up to something behind Y/N’s back, however he didn’t feel it was his place to mention anything. She thought that something wasn’t right when Sebastian kept cancelling their lunch plans and found out when she turned up at his place with a bottle of wine, hoping for a cute evening date but ended up being greeted by an absolutely stunning, model-esque looking woman asking if she had turned up to the wrong house with a food delivery order. It took all of Y/N’s strength to not shout at the woman, knowing that she was unlikely to know that Sebastian was seeing another woman. All Y/N did was introduce herself as Sebastian’s girlfriend to which the other woman was confused. They were both of the impression that Sebastian was dating them, and only them. The pair of them then confronted him and Y/N invited Abbie back to her flat to share wine and rant about shitty men. Y/N and Abbie then became friends and to celebrate their singleness, Jack organised a night out for both of them, cementing Abbie into the group.

“Y/N!” Luke shouted, after running down the stairs to figure out what the commotion in the living room was.

“Baby Hughes!” Y/N replied, taking the younger boy into a playful headlock. Quinn watched as his youngest brother almost melted into the grasp of the woman. “If Jack had told me someone who can cook would be here, I would have been out weeks earlier.”

“Hey,” Alex looked shocked, “I can use the barbecue.” Y/N rolled her eyes, not trusting the words coming out of his mouth.

“Better than Jack, he struggles with everything,” Y/N joked before releasing Luke from the headlock and messing up Jack’s hair.

“And on that note, your room is upstairs,” Jack spoke before pretty much dragging Y/N up to the top floor where her room was allocated.

Quinn was fucked.

~~

Being the oldest there, Quinn was trusted by his mother to drive the boat out onto Lake Huron and he had to make sure that the boat was docked when he got back. Ellen Hughes didn’t spend too much time at the lake house when it was packed with young adults but she did make sure that everyone felt welcome. Quinn tried to extend his mother’s hospitality by offering to take Y/N to the store and to grab whatever alcohol and food she wanted. Her list wasn’t extensive but she offered to tag along with Quinn and help pick up the ever extending list made by Luke’s friends. The pair engaged in friendly conversation throughout the drive and in Target but it was limited to questions about their time at college and how difficult Jack can be at times. If Quinn was feeling awkward, Y/N didn’t notice it as she grew fonder of his presence, even if it was barely an hour they had spent together.

The pair stocked the fridge on the boat up with beers, White Claws and soft drinks before seamlessly moving on to preparing some food to eat on the boat too. Y/N chopped fruit up and made it look pretty before wrapping it in plastic wrap and setting it on the portable cooler and Quinn moved to prepare some pita bread, vegetable sticks and hummus. It was the first sense of calm that either of them had felt since arriving at the lake house.

Until Jack came tumbling down the stairs claiming that the girl he had been talking to back in Jersey was going to be coming out to the lake house for a few days. Y/N rolled her eyes, now it wasn’t that her and Faith didn’t get along. Faith seemed to be jumping from one famous person’s bed to another and that lifestyle wasn’t one that Y/N could see herself living. But she did her best to get along with Faith when she was around.

“There’s a girl?” Quinn questioned his younger brother, realising that there were more things that Jack was keeping hidden from him.

Y/N hummed in answer to Quinn’s question, whilst rolling her eyes giving the Canuck player all the information he needed about this girl.

“She’s getting here in a week,” he gasped, rereading the texts. Jack’s golden retriever behaviour didn’t just stop there as he almost sprinted over to his older brother to show him Faith’s Instagram profile. Quinn took Jack’s phone off him and scrolled through her account. It was bikini picture after bikini picture, with a few lingerie shoots dotted around. He noticed that, compared to Y/N’s account at least, Faith didn’t seem to show much personality. Y/N had her at brunches, in the electronics labs and at hockey games, Faith’s had none of that.

“She looks lovely,” Quinn managed to get out before shooing his brother off to get everyone else up for the day out on the lake.

The water was calm as Quinn drove the boat out onto the lake. The stillness calmed him as he concentrated on taking everyone to the small island in the centre of the lake safety. Quinn watched the branches of the trees on the shoreline move with the gentle winds and the waves crashed softly on the sandy beach, slowly bringing him to a state of relaxation he hadn’t felt in some time.

Quinn was brought out of his calm state by his youngest brother shouting the unfortunate nickname given to him by his teammates. He rolled his eyes before turning around to see what the commotion was.

“Alex wanted to know where the White Claws were,” Jack told him.

“And you had to ask me, whilst I’m driving the boat?” Quinn replied, annoyed with the middle Hughes brother.

“Well you packed the boat full of stuff,” Jack said nonchalantly, “why would anyone else know where the stuff is.” Jack shrugged his shoulders, stocking the boat up with alcohol generally fell to Quinn because he was the oldest and usually the only one who could legally be seen with the alcohol.

“Y/N,” Quinn replied, “you know, the other 22 year old who can drink. Plus she helped me set up the food so you know it won’t kill you.” Quinn rolled his eyes at Jack, he really was clueless the majority of the time.

“Oh,” Jack sighed. He would have tried to make some connections between Y/N and Quinn heading out to the shops together and them getting the boat ready, but he was too occupied with his phone and replying to Faith with snapchats of himself on the lake.

Alex didn’t need Jack to ask his older brother where the alcohol was as it was obvious, where else would it be but the fridge. He swiped himself a pineapple White Claw and a Cherry one for Y/N. She hadn’t asked, but he assumed that she wouldn’t turn down a drink. “So,” Alex started, wrapping his arm around Y/N, “you deal with Jack all season long, and you choose to come here and hang out with him more?”

“Let me make this clear”, she replied, cracking open the can and taking a sip, “I did not come here to hang out with Jack any longer.”

“So why come to Michigan,” Alex asked, genuinely curious. He didn’t know how someone could put up with Jack on an almost daily basis, but to come and hang out with him and his friends during her summer break, it seemed crazy to him.

“Needed a break from Jersey City, couldn’t go home, here was the next best thing,” she smiled before flicking her head down so the sunglasses that were resting on the top of her head sat on the bridge of her nose. “Even if it means dealing with Jack pining over a woman once again.”

Quinn looked back to see Alex pissing himself with laughter at something Y/N had said as she sipped on the drink he hoped she had got for herself. The pair seemed to be in a conversation, ignoring the antics of the other boys on the boat and it made Quinn hate himself for being the responsible one. He wanted to be sat at the back of the boat, with his arm wrapped around Y/N, forgetting everyone else even existed. But he didn’t let his emotions show, he couldn’t.

The boat didn’t stay on the lake for too long as Quinn knew that Jack wanted to get a barbecue going so after everyone had jumped into the lake and got enough pictures for their first Instagram post of the summer, he turned the boat around and drove slowly back to the shore. Y/N steadied herself before attempting to get off the boat but she could feel her feet slipping on the inside of the boat. Before she could fall down, a pair of strong arms caught her, keeping her from losing her balance.

“I’ve got you,” Quinn spoke calmly, “one foot in front of the other, you’ve got this.” Quinn’s voice soothed Y/N as she held his hand to get off the boat.

This action went unnoticed by most, except for Jack.

~~

Y/N was woken up to the sound of ceramic breaking and pans being smashed together and she had to admit that it wasn’t her preferred way to wake up. She grabbed one of her oversized Devils shirts given to her by one of the team and found her slippers before swinging open the door to the room which she was staying in. Standing directly opposite her was Quinn, his hair disheveled and bags under his eyes very apparent. All he was wearing was a pair of team issued shorts and his thighs were on full display and Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him.

“I think we get coffee, some fruit and head outside to ignore whatever they’re doing,” Quinn suggested. All Y/N could do was agree because the sound was causing her to develop a headache.

“I’m just gonna grab some Advil before we head out,” she explained to Quinn before running back up the stairs to find the medication.

Quinn started to collect some fruit out of the fridge before setting the coffee machine up to make Y/N’s favourite. There was also a jug of chilled water which he brought out to the decking along with some glasses. Next was the plates and bowls and he thought he would go without anyone noticing him until Jack shouted directly at him.

“Yo Quinner,” he exclaimed, “whatcha doing?” Jack questioned as he dodged some pancake mix being thrown through the air by Alex.

“I am getting some breakfast, then going to sit outside and eat it,” Quinn groaned, really wishing he could have just not been spotted.

“Alone?” His younger brother questioned, knowing that it was likely that he wouldn’t be alone.

“For gods sake Jack,” Quinn replied, “Y/N isn’t feeling too good so I’m hoping some fresh air and food helps her, okay?” All Jack could do was nod, he was pretty preoccupied with all of his hockey friends so didn’t really have much time to spend with Y/N but was glad she was being friendly with his older brother.

The cool wind hit Y/N as soon as she stepped outside and Quinn noticed immediately. He excused himself quickly before speeding into the laundry room to find one of his mums spare blankets. A large fluffy blanket engulfed Y/N, immediately warming her up. She thanked Quinn profusely but his only response was a blush.

“Eat some food then have some Advil,” Quinn instructed. “We can always take the boat out later because sea air is the best air.”

“Just the two of us?” Y/N asked, really hoping that it would be a chill day.

“If that’s what you want, yeah, just the two of us,” Quinn confirmed. “Let’s eat then we can get the boat ready.” She nodded, looking forward to another day out on the water.

~~

The cool breeze floated over Y/N’s skin as she drank out of the travel mug Quinn had prepared for her with some peppermint tea. She sat next to Quinn as he aimlessly directed the boat along the lake. Sometimes she even steered the boat, reaching over over Quinn’s lap. That was until he had enough and pulled her onto his lap.

His hand found presence on her thigh, thumb rubbing semi circles on the jeans she wore. Y/N settled into his touch, slowly sipping on her tea, which had cooled down sufficiently for her to drink.

There were only two more days until she left to return to Jersey, back to a job where she ground coffee beans and made the most ridiculous caffeine concoctions for those doing summer school in Jersey. The occasional banker or lawyer would pop in because the queue was usually shorter than ones in the centre of town.

“You’ll come visit when you’re playing in Jersey right?” Y/N asked meekly, not too sure if Quinn would want to keep the friendship they had going.

“Of course,” he replied, shifting slightly so that his whole hand was now sitting on her thigh. “I can’t deal with Jack and Luke on my own.”

Y/N replied with an awkward smile and nod of her head. She knew she wouldn’t be the only reason he was in Jersey and that was okay.

“It’ll be great to see you too,” Quinn finally got out. He felt a tug towards Y/N whenever she was around, he wanted to be around her, he wanted to talk to her. He enjoyed the time they had spent together even if it was Jack who introduced them.

“I’d like to see Vancouver too,” she spoke, trying to convince herself that she could do this. “I’ve never been to the West Coast.” A small smile graced Quinn’s face, hoping he had read the signals right.

“Vancouver is nice,” he said, “not as nice as here though. I’d pick being back home over Vancouver any day. I’m back end of August if you want to come visit, get away from Jack at the start of training camp.”

“I’d like that,” she replied, turning her head around to look at Quinn. He moved the thumb that was resting on her thigh to slowly draw around her bottom lip, eyes flicking between her lips and her eyes. “Kiss me Quinn.”

He didn’t need any more convincing as he pressed his hips to hers in a sweet kiss. The pair shared a few more kisses before Y/N pointed out a small island where they could dock the boat and sit on the beach for a few hours.

Quinn opened out the picnic blanket on the sandy ground, before quickly popping back onto the boat to grab a few drinks. Y/N and Quinn both cracked open a can of soda before digging a small hole to rest the can in when they weren’t holding it.

She kicked her sandals off, encouraging Quinn to do the same. He complied, not realising that Y/N was going to drag him into the water. Looking back to the blanket, Quinn thought he would be able to throw his shirt over to it so he could give it to Y/N if she got too many of her clothes wet.

It didn’t go as he planned as the wind caught his shirt, blowing it back into the water. Quinn watched as she started laughing at him, not with malice.

She was beautiful.

~~

“Quinn,” Y/N giggled as she rounded the corner. Quinn was trying to lift her up and place her into a fireman’s hold over his shoulder but she wasn’t having any of it. She darted out of his grasp as soon as she noticed what he was thinking. They looked like two young lovers spending a summer holiday on the lake.

Jack looked out of the window to see who was causing the noise, thinking it was one of their neighbours but was pleasantly surprised when he saw his brother and best friend. Inviting Y/N out to Michigan was one of the best things he had ever done. Jack hoped that the pair would end up hitting it off, but going back to Jersey with a potential sister-in-law was certainly not on his mind.

Life might be better in Hoboken, but holidays are better in Michigan.

[reidslibrarybook]

(Bull) Riding into the Sunset

Pairing - Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Warnings - language, kissing, alcohol consumption, mention of bloody nose and bruised eye (lmk if i missed any)

Summary - Spencer’s loved you since the moment he met you, always wondering what he had to do to get your attention. What he didn’t know was that he’s always had it all along.

Category - fluff

Word Count - 3.9k

A/N - woah i did not mean for this to be that long but the idea is kinda wacky and i kinda love the idea or spencer in this fic. I def imagine s1 spencer for this lmao. THANK YOU TO MY BELOVED @samuel-de-champagne-problems for helping me out with this one as she always does, she’s the best 😌. i am praying this is gonna show up in the tags cuz tumblr is just being a bitch apparently lmao.

masterlist

join my taglist here!

——————————————

Spencer was never one to talk, not as much as he wanted to.

It was in his best interest to keep quiet, at least that’s what he grew up relying on. Every position he had been put in was one that shined a bright spotlight on him, attracting all the attention and pointing everyone’s curiosities right to him. He had already been singled out, excluded— he didn’t need any more eyes on him as it was.

The attention only ever brought him years of torment and bullying, something he didn’t enjoy in the slightest. The tears that rolled down his face had solidified into a fear of being on a stage yet again. There was never a time where he could be himself without facing the repercussions of individuality.

So when he joined the BAU, hiding in the shadows and curt responses were his favorite pastime. It may have put people off but it was what he had to do to survive because that’s all he’s ever known…

Survival of the fittest.

But all the manuals and directions in his brain were rewritten when he met you. He found himself craving your looks, your words. All he wanted was for you to talk to him so he could hear your voice just once more. He was an addicted, ever-hungry man that craved nothing but you.

You were kind and beautiful in his eyes and the eyes of many others. Maybe he had taken such a liking to you because of your lending ear. It was always hard for him to find someone willing to listen to him who wasn’t his mother, let alone enjoy what he was rambling on and on about. You were the outlier in a sea of the disinterested, a genuine star that shined through the void that had formed in his heart.

He knew he was too far gone the moment he went to bed that one fateful night, the image of you dancing around him refusing to fade in his restless mind. He soon found himself thinking about you and only you, desperate for your sweet love…

Your gentle touch.

Your tender care.

He was no longer the shy, quiet genius in the back— showing off his rare memory or high IQ. Every giggle he elicited from you was cherished, held close to his heart and even closer to his soul. All he wanted to do was make you smile like no other person had, to make you just as happy as you made him.

You were the one that kept him invigorated, unknowingly encouraging him to crawl out of the shell he retreated into the moment he stepped foot into high school so many years ago.

“Kid.”

Spencer looked over to Derek who sat in the driver’s seat of the car, glancing over at him quickly and turning his attention back to the road with furrowed brows.

“You’re gonna poke a hole through the floor of my very expensive car if you keep tapping the way you are,” he said, a cautiously curious tone laced through his voice.

Spencer slinked into his leather seat timidly. “Sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed to be called out by someone he greatly admired for his charisma and charm.

“No worries, kid,” Derek laughed, “What’s got your mind all up in a jumble?”

“Nothing,” he blurted quickly, hoping that the lie that fell freely would be easily brushed off.

Derek chuckled, “Right… nothing. Is ‘nothing’ the secret code name you have for Y/N?”

“Wh- what?” Spencer stuttered, laughing slightly to play off Derek’s ridiculous question, “O- of course not.”

“So you… didn’t drop your mug of coffee when she walked by? And you didn’t fall down three steps of stairs just looking at her?”

“I was um, I was distracted by um,” he tried to think of something plausible, but the two of them knew that nothing would stun him as much as you did, “I was distracted by-”

Derek laughed, “Distracted by Y/N.”

“No! No, I- I wasn’t,” he had trouble finding his words and excuses to deflect his laughable attempt to hide the truth, “I- I swear, I don’t love her.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a little office romance, Reid. I quite like watching my very own rom-com, it’s just you fumbling around her all day every day,” he admitted, pulling into the bar’s parking lot.

“I-,” a ravenous blush appeared on his face, “I don’t fumble around her.”

Derek unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to face Spencer directly. “Yes, you do,” he sighed, “Look, she’s not gonna be around forever. Shoot your shot before you lose the chance.”

With his final words of wisdom, Derek exited the car leaving Spencer in shambles. He was right, you wouldn’t be around forever. It was inevitable that someone would come to scoop you up, smashing the little glass dream of you in his arms and discarding the broken shards on the cold ground. There would come a time where he wouldn’t receive your smiles the same way, all the little flirty teases you sent in his direction would cease to exist as your heart was stolen by another.

Maybe there was something he could do before he lost his chance, a way he could prevent the inevitable from happening… or rather, become the inevitable.

Determination ran through his veins, stepping out of the car and marching straight into the bar. There was no hesitation in his body as every fiber of his being wished to be with you, every stray worry was deteriorated by the infectious feelings for you that resided inside him. It was then that he realized that the chains made up of his fear of rejection were broken by a new one: living in a world where your heart wasn’t free for him to take.

“Reid!”

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and found Morgan waving with Garcia and the rest of the team by their side, everyone except for you. He made his way over and plopped down into the seat next to Hotch, still slightly intimidated by his monotone voice and stoic face.

“Didn’t think you were coming in, Pretty Boy,” Derek teased.

“Oh no,” Penelope shouted from across the table, trying to reach him over the blaring music, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Derek hinted, “He’s just contemplating his little crush on-”

“No! I- I’m not contemplating anything I was just- I was um, I was calling my- my mom,” he sputtered, readily aware that he just offered a team of the best profilers in Virginia the most pathetic lie.

“Uhuh, and how is your mom?” Hotch asked, one of his eyebrows raised.

“G- good.”

Spencer saw Gideon smile slightly as he drank his scotch, trying to ignore the little laughs that came from the people around him. He looked around for you, your absence clearly enunciated with the empty chair in between Penelope and Elle. It was apparent who he was looking for, Derek immediately noticing his pout and nodding towards something behind him. Spencer turned around as his heart fell at the sight of you talking to someone who was much more attractive, and probably interesting, than he was. It was heartbreaking.

Maybe it was too late.

A chance at redemption lost to the hands of another.

—————————————

Time flew by as the rest of the team, minus Hotch who wanted to relax with his whiskey and Gideon who decided to go home and watch the rest of his bird documentaries, filed out to the dance floor right next to the mechanical bull ring. Spencer had the time of his life sitting there watching you be swept off your feet and the rest of his friends laughing with unadulterated joy. He sighed, trying to swallow the rest of his alcoholic beverage that served to distract him from the fracturing of every delicate feeling inside him.

It was a far-fetched pipe-dream but it was a nice change from his defaulted outlook, hopeless. His life had taught him nothing but hardship, having to adapt and grow to accommodate how painful it was. He never felt like he had to repress anything about him with you, something he enjoyed as your company remedied every wound and erased every scar. He didn’t feel the need to put up armor, only one to run into your arms with every lit ember that was fueled by his feelings for you.

Though, it seemed like the light inside him dimmed slightly at the sight of you beaming with another. He never thought that luck had never been on his side and watching you look at someone else the same way you looked at him, bright with a little glimmer of beauty in your eye, was a nightmare.

“You should go talk to her.”

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest, surprised by the deep monotone voice that sounded beside him. Spencer looked up from the little paper umbrella in his hands and up to the man next to him, Hotch.

“I- I don’t know what you’re-” Spencer let the walls crumble down as the picture of his perfect fantasy was ruined, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He asked blatantly, unfazed by Spencer’s hesitance.

“She’s with someone else and I don’t want to ruin what she could have with him.” Every single insecurity and doubt in your interest in him had bubbled to the surface, encouraged by the alcohol he had continuously consumed throughout the night.

Hotch shifted slightly to look over his shoulder, turning his head back to Spencer shortly after. “Doesn’t look like she’s with anyone right now,” he stated outwardly.

“I- I don’t know,” Spencer sighed, exhaling the air that hazed his brain, “I’m afraid.”

“That’s exactly how I felt before I asked Haley out on a date and now we’re having a baby,” he chuckled.

Spencer looked up, not expecting the man who usually spat out orders like a lieutenant speak about something so… casual.

“Not that I think you’re going to have a baby with her. I just,” he stopped to recollect his thoughts, “I’m just saying that it’s not too late to talk to her about what you’re feeling. Do you love her?”

Spencer nodded without any uncertainty, you were the subject of his every dream and that would never change.

“Alright,” Hotch smiled at his eagerness, “Do you love her enough to take on the risks? Every single thing is worth it if you’re willing.”

Were you worth the risk?

Yes, without a shadow of doubt.

Hotch smiled, nodding at the clear answer on his face. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Spencer looked over to you sitting at the bar by yourself, swirling your drink and smiling at your friends who were gracing the dance floor with their very disgraceful moves. With a single look back to Hotch, Spencer left his seat and stumbled over the slippery bar floor all the way to you.

He was nervous, but when was he not when you were involved? “Spencer!” Your face lit up as soon as he made his way over, “I didn’t know you were here already.”

“H- hi,” he couldn’t compose himself around you, a common occurrence whenever he was near you, “I um, I came with Derek.”

You nodded, moving your purse from the stool next to you onto your lap. He smiled, awkwardly sitting next to you— finally feeling the burdensome ramifications of the drink he took comfort in. Every feeling inside him was heightened, he could hear the sound of his heart pounding and the tightness in his chest had been amplified to feel like all the air trapped in his lungs was sucked out.

“I missed you at work today,” you nudged him slightly to draw his eyes whose gaze was set on the floor, up to your face, “I didn’t get to see my favorite handsome genius.”

He looked up and you laughed slightly, amused by the boyish grin on his face and the deep red blush rooted deep within his skin.

“I’m the only genius you know.”

You shook your head, a stunning smile gracing your lips. “And how are you so sure?”

“Because you said that you’ve never met a certified genius until you met me,” he laughed, the heat in the bar finally catching up with him.

“That’s fair,” you giggled, “Even if I knew another genius, I don’t think anyone would be able to top you.”

There it was again, the aching in his heart— the longing to be yours. Just as he was about to continue the conversation, your eyes shifted from looking at him to something behind him. Spencer turned around, seeing the man you were speaking with before waving vigorously to get your attention. He was immediately infuriated that Spencer had taken his spot, the veins on his neck and face bulging out looking at him. To compensate, he stepped right in front of spencer— placing his body in between you and him.

“Hey there, let me buy you another drink,” he spoke, feigning a suave tone.

Spencer rolled his eyes as he tried to wave away the cheap cologne that attacked him. With a spur of confidence, probably initiated by the liquor in his system, Spencer tapped the man behind him after pushing up his glasses.

“We were having a conversation,” he hissed, “It’s rude to interrupt someone while they’re speaking to another person.”

“Back off, kid,” he spat, the endearing nickname given to him by Derek no longer so pleasant, “Go color in your little books or drink your tiny juice boxes. You belong in a daycare, a bar is no place for you.”

“I- I don’t, I don’t”

“You can’t even speak, go bother someone else.” The man in front of him blocked Spencer out of your view. Before you could catch him, he had already left the seat next to you.

You looked around, unable to find him anywhere in the poorly lit building. A sigh fell from your lips as you muted whatever came from the man next to you, the only one you had any interest in talking to nowhere in sight.

“Hey, darlin’” he called out for you, “How about we get out of here, away from all the pesky little people. Just us.”

You grimaced at the thought of a night spent with someone who probably used all-in-one shampoo and lived with his mother. “No thanks, I’d rather-”

You were caught off guard when a spotlight lit up the center of the bar, drawing your attention directly towards the one person you were looking for… Spencer.

A voice boomed through the speakers above you. “Alright folks, we’ve got a new rider tonight. What’s your name son?”

Spencer cleared his throat, his eyes flicking between you and the microphone. “U- um, m- my name’s Spencer Reid,” he stuttered.

“Alright, Spencer Reid. How long do you plan to stay on for?”

“What’s the um, the time to beat?” Spencer loosened his tie, your eyes shooting daggers at him.

“The longest time anyone’s ever stayed on for is 13.7 seconds,” the operator chuckled.

Spencer nodded, scrunching his nose as he weighed the probabilities in his head. “I’ll stay on for 15 seconds.”

“Quite a goal you got there,” everyone around him laughed, everyone except for you and the rest of the team, “Well, Spencer Reid, good luck.”

A swarm of people crowded by the base of the ring, waiting on his impending downfall. He glanced down at all the onlookers, waiting for him to fail just as all his peers did in school. Reminded of all the malicious teasing, his conviction wavered. There were too many people counting on him to end up a mess, a feeling that hit too close to his home in Las Vegas. Spencer met your concerned eyes, remembering what Hotch said earlier.

Were you worth the risk?

Yes.

He nodded at the operator, giving you a reassuring smile before the bull began to move slowly. The first few seconds were bearable, the machine beneath him picking up speed and his tenacity with it. He held his firm belief that he would be able to make it fifteen seconds on the bull, if not more. If it was what he had to do to get your attention then so be it.

“Spencer!” You yelled, pushing your way through the horde of people, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m riding a bull,” he shouted over the rodeo music, enjoying the little rocking motions that began to become more sporadic.

The people around you began to count with each passing second, the force of the bull’s rock increased— Spencer flopping back and forth with it. He only had to hold on for fifteen seconds, but what he didn’t account for was his alcohol consumption. He squeezed the reigns with all of his force, staying on as his vision blurred from how fast he was turning.

Ten.

You looked around, making eye contact with Derek and the others. Your heart raced as you worried for Spencer, he was already accident-prone— god knows what would happen when someone as clumsy as him attempted to sit on the bull.

Eleven.

“What is he doing?” You asked Hotch who had managed to squeeze through the crowd over to you.

Twelve.

“Taking a risk,” he sighed, exhausted by both of your obliviousness.

Thirteen.

“You told him to do this?”

Fourteen.

“When I told him to do something,” he yelled over the noise, “This isn’t what I had in mind.”

Fifteen.

Right as the number sounded in his ears, Spencer let go of the reign. Everyone around you gasped, the sounds of ‘ow’ and ‘ooo’ sounding off of every person. You rushed through the crowd to catch up with him as he was dragged out by the on-site EMT.

“Y/N!” He waved, taking the cotton pad handed to him by the EMT.

“Spencer,” you said, relieved. You inspected him, looking at the blood that dripped from his nose and the bruise starting to form on his eye, “Are you insane, you got hurt. What were you thinking?”

“I was…” he took a deep breath and cleared his foggy brain, “I was jealous that you were talking to someone else so I wanted to show you that I could be fun too. Not just the weird nerdy guy at work or the skinny guy who wears sweater vests and looks like he could be in high school.”

You shook your head, smiling softly. “You didn’t have to do all of that, Spence. I love the silly Spencer that does physics magic at his desk and I love the same nerdy man that talks about the little improbabilities in Star Wars and I especially love the dumb genius that does silly things to get my attention. You never have to do any of that, not when you’ve always had my attention.”

“I just wanted to-” he backtracked when he finally processed what you had said, “Wait, what?”

“Spencer,” you giggled, pushing back a piece of his hair that had fallen to cover his face, “I was talking to that guy to pass the time until you came. You are the only person I’m even remotely interested in talking to, you’ve always been my favorite person and you always will be my favorite person to talk to. I love you.”

“I- I love you too?”

“You say that as if it’s a question,” you chuckled.

“W- well I’m not sure if you’re there yet,” he mumbled, wincing slightly as the man beside you treated his eye.

“I’ve always been there, I was just waiting on you, Einstein.” You leaned in to give a kiss on the cheek, a light dusting of pink painting his cheeks.

Before you could pull away fully, Spencer turned his head and pressed his lips right onto yours. Suddenly, every hazy thought was cleared with a clarifying sense of home. The fears and worries and plaquing nightmares of not belonging were dispersed because he finally found where he fit in and it was with you.

Years before he was always bouncing around alone, unable to find a place to stay. There was never a place where he clicked but you helped him realize that he wasn’t the one that needed to change.

Your lips moved with the other as your hearts fluttered like the excited wings of a hummingbird, the feeling of his soft hands brushing through your hair acting as a defibrillator to your once still heart. You reciprocated his eagerness, stepping forward and leaning down to deepen something that had been long awaited. He was clearly overjoyed by your action, grabbing your waist and pulling you further into him.

You giggled, melting in his touch as his selfish hands grappled onto your hips for purchase.

The sound of someone clearing their voice came from behind you. Spencer pulled away, hitting his head on the back of the booth in the process.

Hotch stepped up, accessing the awkward atmosphere. “How are you doing, Reid?”

“G- good. I’m good,” he sputtered.

“Good,” he looked to you, observing your swollen lips as you fidgeted with your fingers. “I’ve given everyone tomorrow off, tonight has been… eventful and I want to make sure everyone isn’t coming to work hungover.”

“Y- yes, sir.”

“Alright, well you two have a good rest of your night,” he said, walking away with a smile that he’d never let you see.

“Well, now that you’re all cleaned up I guess I should take you back home,” you said, helping him up and straightening out the glasses on his nose.

He nodded, ignoring the dirty glare he had received after you both walked by the man that tried to take you home earlier. You struggled to get him into your car, buckling him in and hopping into the driver’s seat. He looked over to you lovingly, placing a tender kiss onto your cheek while you drove.

You laughed, “You could’ve done that instead of hopping onto a bull, Spence. Out of all things, what made you choose to ride a mechanical bull to get my attention when anything else would have worked.”

“I was jealous and upset that that guy basically called me a kid in front of you,” he conceded, “I wanted to show him that I could last longer than him.”

You rolled your eyes in disbelief.

“And I can… in more ways than one,” he continued nonchalantly.

You widened your eyes at his words, stunned by his suggestive implications. “Slow your roll, cowboy. I-”

Spencer stopped you with another simple kiss to your cheek and suddenly the roles were reversed. He was the one in control of you, stealing the words out of your mouth with nothing but the feel of his lips on your mind. He reached over to grab your free hand while you drove, sitting back down in his chair and feeling your racing pulse up against his skin. He knew that there was nothing for him to worry about as he noticed the brightly lit smile on your face and the pounding of your heart.

And just as it was in his dreams, the two of you rode off into the sunset waiting for the rest of your adventures to unfold.

—————————————-

taglist:

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[obsessive-ego]

I couldn't sleep last night and thought of a really cute idea with Beej but Tumblr ruined the formatting I'm sorry:

You couldn't sleep. It wasn't for a lack of trying, though. you'd tried everything you could think of: tea, music, stretching, even pacing around your apartment for hours on end. Yet there you were, awake and exhausted. Briefly, you contemplated summoning your demonic roommate; he was spending the night with Lydia, though, celebrating the end of the school year and her good grades. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin the plans Beetlejuice had been so excited for all week.

Resigning to your fate, you sat on the couch and opened the book you'd been working through. By the time Lydia texted you to summon Beej back, the sun was coming up and you were almost done with the book. You smiled to yourself as you mumbled your friend's name three times, then coughed when the room was filled with his signature smoke.

"Didja miss me, babes?" the demon asked, flopping down on the couch next to you. "Lyds and I scared the- woah, doll, you look as dead as me. Did you sleep last night?"

You paused, not wanting to worry him but knowing that the answer was obvious. "Just the normal insomnia, Beej. Who did you and Lydia scare?"

Beetlejuice was quiet for a few seconds as streaks of blue and yellow (you squinted at that color, it was rare for it to appear at all) spread through his hair. He looked away from you and bit a knuckle between his teeth.

"Beej?" you asked, your stomach turning from exhaustion and worry. "Hey, it's okay, I've stayed up longer than a couple days before, one night won't-"

You were cut off as Beetlejuice pulled you into his arms. A mind spinning moment later, the two of you were in your bed, pajamas and all. You felt your face flush, just as it always did when you were near the demon.

Your demon looked down at you, this soft, exhausted breather, at the person he called his breather, and you felt your face flush more. His hair still had the extra colors, but it was slowly reverting to its normal green. You looked away and picked at a fraying thread on the blanket.

"Really, Beej," you tried, "I'll be okay."

Beetlejuice pulled you impossibly closer and kissed your hair. "You breathers need your sleep, babes. I'm not letting you out of here until you've slept for, let's say, a century."

You laughed and laid your head down on his shoulder. "How about a couple hours, minimum?"

"Deal," Beetlejuice said. "And hey, if you want, I know a couple ways we could tire you out."

He laughed at your shocked expression and summoned another set of arms you wrap around you. "I'm just joking, doll. Unless you think it's a good idea?"

This is so cute

Thank you so much for sharing this with me