#when I think of emily I think of someone who is sensitive and proud

[batrachised]

AU where Teddy moves away, goes to therapy, and realizes his mother wasn’t just clingy, she’s abusive. Sabotaging someone to keep them isnt love. You can be hurting and still held accountable for your actions. Their reactions to your boundaries are not your responsibility.

Teddy gets a job as a police sketch artist.

He comes back to the island to visit and starts getting Very Alarmed about Dean. He replays their childhood in his head with a new, adult perspective and sees it all click into place.

He talks to his therapist and his law enforcement contacts and realizes he can’t have actually have Dean arrested and that Emily might be too groomed to see what’s going on. After all it took him years himself and he’s removed from the situation and isn’t the target.

He talks to Aunt Elizabeth and Ilse and Perry and they make a plan. (Idk what specifically tbh)

Ultimately it will be up to Emily to leave but they’re gonna do what they can to give her the space and safety to start thinking more clearly about it.

Teddy carefully starts telling Emily what he learned about abuse and boundaries and keeps it all about him and his mother but hopes she’ll think about Dean.

He carefully asks questions and listens without giving her any specific advice unless she asks.

“Why do you feel you owe him? Do you feel that way about other people in your life?”

“It sounds like you feel responsible for his disappointment?”

I keep trying to find a way Teddy (or better yet - Emily) can have Dean arrested but I can’t come up with it.

Man Teddy could have been such a good character and he was just fully wasted. Emileddy even has interesting opposite-but-similar trauma in so many ways.

Lucy Maud didn’t even try with them. 😩

YOU UNDERSTAND MY PAIN ABOUT TEDDY KENT! Normally I try to avoid dunking on teddy because if you like him, great! don't let me spoil your fun! However, emily and teddy are my least favorite lmm pairing

Re: teddy's mom, I think that's something we see appear more than once in LM Montgomery's work--someone who is emotionally abusive or worse but legitimized through being presented as a tragic figure. Unfortunately no examples come to mind, but iirc her short stories can have that theme. An extreme example is the short story of the man who falls in love with a woman, she chooses to marry someone else and has a daughter, he helps raise the daughter, and then MARRIES THE DAUGHTER IN WHAT'S PRESENTED AS A FIX IT SCENARIO.

With Teddy, I honestly think the problem is that he doesn't balance out Emily well. Other LMM pairings go very well together in a satisfying contrast--Teddy doesn't. I still (yes, still) need to embark on my reread of the trilogy (Emily of New Moon is sitting on my dresser as I type), but although my memory could be deeply flawed and downright horrifically wrong (yes i'm still scarred about dean priest), I remember him being too similar to Emily, and more than that--being dull as dishwasher compared to all the other male characters, especially Perry!

Your ideas are very appealing because they make him protective of Emily haha, he needed something...more to his character. If I were writing Emily, although I do not pretend to have anywhere close to LMM's talent, I would probably just give her a love interest with an entirely different personality. What would that look like? I don't know! I do think that Teddy Kent was not a good foil to Emily Byrd Starr, and the book suffered for it (at least for me!)

#the best choice probably would have been to have Emily end up alone but I understand why LMM didn't do it #I for one would have been upset as a child haha #when I think of emily I think of someone who is sensitive and proud #perry was a good foil to her even tho I think they'd be a boring pairing because ilse exists #teddy was not

[peachpopfizz]

yk the first couple of episode drops were a bit ehh to me but like.. these two just hit Right. maybe bc i knew what to expect pacing/story wise now? either way, they're def my faves so far, especially ep 5. that's my Favorite favorite :]

spoilers for both eps under the cut, mostly just me blabberin abt what i liked (warning: its alotta alastor)

for ep 5, at first i thought charlastors/radiobelles were winning (and while i don't ship it myself, i was happy for em) but then the realization of 'wait wait wait this isn't romo at all, alastors tryna be a FATHER FIGURE?!' hit instead and i went WILD bc thats 1000% my preferred dynamic for charlie and al. so uh.. yippee dadlastors, sorry charlastors..? gsjahafdaj

also the "Ha! Fuck you." im normal im normal im NORMAL im SOOOO FUCKIN NORMAL (IM CRAZY IM VRAZY I CRAZY IM CRASTY IM FUCKI)

mimzy!! (mimzie??) her intro was abrupt, but she seems like a doll, and her hug with al was real cute. tho i do think she needed that metaphorical kick in the ass abt al's thoughts when it comes to her leeching off his strength for protection. about that..

ALASTOR ACTUALLY CARES. HE CARES. (seemingly, at least). LIKE, HE ACTUALLY LEGITIMATELY, NON-FANONILY, GIVES A DAMN ABT THE HOTEL. HE WENT OUT OF THE WAY TO PROTECT THE PLACE AND TOLD MIMZY TO LEAVE IF SHE DIDN'T COME FOR REDEMPTION. MAYBE ITS IN HIS OWN WEIRD-GUARDED-PETTY WAY BUT FUCK FUCK HOOOLLLYY FUCK ALASTOR CARES

and one more thing b4 i move onto ep 6, i've already seen some ppl comparing what al did to husk in the hall to angel and val's dynamic, and while i do agree the two are both trapped in unsavory deals (loser, baby literally confirms this) i don't think al's ANYWHERE near as bad as val. was what he did fucked up? oh, yes, definitely. but it really?? shouldn't be surprising??? al's in hell ‘n has all this status for a reason, so i was really just waitin for a moment like that to happen. however, it didn't do any lasting damage. at least i really wouldn't say so. most it did was scare the shit out of husk for a minute, nowhere close to what val does to angel on the daily (see: episode 6). tho im willing to admit i might be lookin thru rose colored glasses bc i love al as a character. my opinion might change when/if the actual conditions of al and husks deal are revealed, but as of rn, i think al acted as he did there bc husk attacked a reeeally sensitive subject. he would've just been the petty bitch he always is if husk said like.. anythin else. oh and uhh yeah im abt 85% sure he and lilith have SOMETHING goin on. idk who the hell else would be powerful enough to have alastor on a leash

..oh yeah, lastly, lucifer was cool :] silly silly guy (with lotsa trauma) that hit me right in the daddy issues. funny tho, i rlly dont have much to say abt the guy despite the ep literally being focused on him. his song with charile was spectacular though, i need to listen to it on its own immediately

okokok, episode 6, finally, hopefully shorter than the mess of text above

first off. vaggie = fallen angel theorists, i would like to bow down and apologize for ever doubting you. i was one of the skeptics, i really was, but the show did it in a way that (albeit rushed, but what hasn't been so far?, thaaanks, 8-episode limit..) made it seem believable, with assdam calling her out for it..

but putting adam aside, uh, lute?? maam?? holy fuck, step on me??? please???? i mean uh. sick character design yk ahah ^^

whats her name.. emily? the younger seraphim girl, i liked her, she was a cutie. she really did just seem like heavens version of charlie. and the older seraphim woman i (expectedly) have mixed feelings abt. i feel like all would've be great it adam got outta her damn ear cause she might've actually be down to try the hotel with em gone.. angel was doing so well

speaking of angel, ANGEL!! oh lookit that character development, charlie's gonna be so fuckn proud!!! also, CHERRI!!!! saw someone else say cherris the devil on angels shoulder while husks the (heh) angel, and i have to say i agree. they both want the best for him, they just have different ways of goin about it.

unsurprisingly, fuck Valentino. although i did notice he was wearing a dress today, so. (through gritted teeth) slay.

thiiink that's all i gotta say for today?? besides the fact that next week is gonna be agonizing, ofc :] buckle up ppl we might get a genuine, emotional chaggie fight come next thursday

..oh yeah!! molly!!! we briefly saw molly!!!! i hope youre absolutely thriving girl, you deserve no less <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel ep 5 #hazbin hotel 6

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

37 and 45?? Maybe that could work separate... Or together However you prefer!

Word count- 1025

Pairing- Spencer Reid x Female reader

Sorry this took so long!

—

“It’s not everyday that the unsub leaves handprints,” you say, looking over at Spencer who takes pictures of the crime scene. The camera is strapped around his neck and he looks into the viewfinder to snap the shot. The crime scene, an elderly woman’s home, has twenty-two handprints all of the same size in the garden. It’s odd, you’ve never seen anything like it before.

“It’s interesting,” Spencer agress, “it’s almost like the unsub knowingly left these handprints here, like in a pattern,” he suggests, “no one would be able to leave these prints in such an orderly fashion if all they wanted to do was kill and then leave. It’s part of the profile,”

“So what does it tells us, Spence,” you ask, looking up at him as she squats below in the bed of roses.

“It tells us that this unsub is organized, yet is held back by their deep need to leave a pattern. The local PD mentioned footprints were left at the crime scene three miles from here. It’s likely it’s the same unsub,” Spencer duduces, slinging the camera back over his shoulder in it’s protective pouch.

“I really don’t see why you can’t use an iPad, Spence. It’s much easier for Penny,” you tell him, curiously inspecting the handprints, hoping that something will jump out in the pile of nothing.

“Y/N, I could go on about the superior image quality that the camera lens provides, but I don’t really think Hotch would appreciate us standing here arguing over the merits of digital vs traditional photography,” Spencer says, sitting down next to you in the bed of roses.

“And, if I remember it correctly, you did tell Garcia that you thought my aversion to technology is charming,” Spencer says, smirking and looking awfully proud of himself.

“I told her that in confidence!” you say, pretending to be offended, “but I didn’t lie, Doctor Reid, you are rather charming,” you tell him, hoping that this will be the time that he realizes that you’re constantly trying to flirt with him.

Naturally, the implication flies right over Spencer’s head. He’s too busy staring at the dirt handprint to notice the heavy flirting that you try to convey. His brow is creased and Y/N can see the wheels spinning in his brain. He places his palm into the dirt, trying to see if his hand can fit in the soil handprint. When it doesn’t, Spencer brushes the dirt off on his pants.

“Y/N,” Spencer says, “can I uh, see your hand?” Spencer asks, holding his hand up, with his palm facing Y/N, “put your palm towards mine,” he requests.

“Sure,” you tell him, hoping that you can keep your hands steady. But you already know that having Spencer so close will leave you shaking like a leaf, “I’m curious to see what this is going to do,”

“It’s science,” Spencer tells you, like it’s supposed to explain everything, “I’m trying to see if either of our hands match up into the handprint. This way we could guess an approximate height and even gender of the unsub,” Spencer says, meeting his palm to your’s.

Your hands touch; your calluses graze across his soft, sensitive skin that still feels like a baby’s skin. Even though it’s in the middle of a crime scene, you can feel her breathing hitch at the moment Spencer’s pinky sticks up above yours. His hands are big and his fingers are long. You almost feel guilty for thinking about them in a very not platonic way in the middle of a crime scene.

“You’re hands are really big,” you say, forgetting yourself, “I don’t mean anything by it’s just, uh your hands they’re big—”

Spencer, probably for the first time in his life, doesn’t interrupt or interject with a fact. He just sits there, palm against your palm, studying you with his mouth open wide. You feel like you’re big under a microscope, but it’s not a bad thing when Spencer’s looking at you. It’s somehow the best thing and the most exciting thing.

You can almost feel his pulse through his hands. His cheeks are red and you have a sneaking suspicion that it’s not the murder case making him nervous.

“That’s it!” Spencer says, twisting around looking for his phone, “that’s it! Y/N, you are brilliant!” he shouts leaning in to embrace you in a hug.

“What? Spence, I don’t follow,” you ask, confused about his conclusions.

“You solved it, Y/N! The unsub, she’s a woman. Statistically, women’s hands are around 2-3 inches smaller than men's hands on average. Your hands! Your hands would fit in the handprint!” Spencer shouts, explaining his conclusion energetically.

It takes you a second to fully realize, between Spencer’s adulation and excitement, that his hand hasn’t left your’s. In fact, through his passion for the profile, he’s linked your fingers with his. He tightly grasps your hand in his, to the point where it almost hurts, but you don’t care.

“I mean, I can’t argue with your stats, Spence, but I think you should call Hotch,” you tell him.

“Brilliant,” Spencer says, bringing your hands up to kiss your knuckles and the tips of your fingers. He kisses your hands, holding like you’re something— someone special to him. Maybe you are, and maybe you’ll figure it out.

“What the hell is going on here!” a voice, Emily’s shouts from the other side of the fence, she’s smiling like a Cheshire Cat. It’s like she knows exactly what’s going on, but rather have Spencer explain it to her.

“I-I uh, I, Y/N,” Spencer stammers, “we have an idea for the profile,” he tells Emily, finally getting through his sentence.

“Really,” Emily says, that sarcastic grin still plastered to her face, “and did holding hands in a garden help you come to a profile?” she asks, winking at you when Spencer turns red.

“Nope,” you say, standing and brushing off your pants, “it was Reid’s big brain and even bigger hands,”

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x reader #spencer reid blurbs #spencer reid blurbs masterlist

[sdv-mostly-shane]

Hello! January is birthday month for my children, and now that we got the last one down, time to get right back in ~ In the spirit of parenthood, here’s some Stardew Parent Headcannons of all the marriage candidates -

Stardew Valley Imagines : Parent Headcannons

Bachelors

Alex

The kind of dad to be at every appointment/interview/inspection and cry at every point of progress “we’re one step closer to our beautiful baby”

Will absolutely cry once he holds that baby, and will have a hard time letting them go to his partner

Baby wearing extraordinaire- has multiple options for different occasions

Matching track suits to hide the fact that they were both a hot mess that morning trying to get out the door, but they did it, so time to celebrate

Would ironically have a brainiac child that he is absolutely enamoured with and admires - he sits at their little table, spilling out of the tiny chair, but refuses to budge because his baby is telling him about the water cycle of the Earth, and he doesn’t want to miss a thing

Elliot

A very ‘hands off’ parent - will observe them at play and not pressure them in any particular way

Probably a Waldorf dad

Sits his babies in his lap every night to read- they are the first ones he tests out a new limerick on, and respects their criticisms as much as their praise

Lots of evening walks down the sea shore and the forest edge.

Out of the bachelors, I think would be the most sensitive/attune to them, and would be great at breaking down their complex emotions and thoughts, and would especially be so with any neurodivergent children.

Harvey

The type to plop down a stack of parenting and pediatric books on the dining room table as soon as you two have decided to welcome children into your lives

Is the one to show the farmer how to change a diaper

In fact, just count Harvey as the one to be the party planning, baby book filling, milestone documenting professional. He’s got it covered.

Loves the newborn stage, is terrified of toddlerhood, but then back in control once they’re like 6. And then terrified again once they are teenagers (his kids actually consider him a friend as well as a father and actually enjoy hanging out with him (sometimes))

100% a helicopter parent, but more so the ‘I love you so much I don’t want you to ever experience any pain’ type of way

Sam

Probably has an accidental love child at one point

You can find him in bed with the baby, singing songs together, while he spikes the baby’s hair nice and tall

Do you honestly think this young man would not use every dad joke ever known? Because he would- and he would find them all absolutely hilarious

The fun dad that will also actively try to embarrass his kids in front of their friends

Keeps his kids home for “sick days” to sit on the couch together, no pants, no homework, and all laughter.

Sebastian

Would be stressed when they are newborns, but relax as they get older. By the time they’re teens, he would have cultivated a very trust and respect-based relationship with them where his kids are comfortable telling him anything

You’ll find him quietly at every event, game, recital, competition, imaginable. Supporting his children with his presence and then taking them out that evening to do something fun, crazy, or maybe even a little dangerous

His most fond parenting moments are when the baby is in their bouncer right besides him, happily babbling away and smiling at him, while he does his work at the computer. Quality time is his baby love language.

The type of dad to patiently and honestly answer his children’s millions of questions about anything and everything.

Will absolutely take them out to splash in the puddles when it rains (but then will also send them straight to the bath)

Shane

Is already pretty experienced in the parenting realm, but is thrown into a whole new adventure with the newborn phase. Finds himself to truly LOVE babies and toddlers

“Hm, can’t sleep? Let’s go get a snack.” “But dad, it’s 1AM” “I do this all the time, don’t worry. Just don’t tell [parent]”

Would let his kids roam free, but only if he is supervising, and is actually kinda strict/short. Absolutely fears losing his children and will do anything and everything to make sure they grow up safe and cared for.

A very stressed daddy but only because he loves his children so much that he would die if anything happened to them

The best cuddler out of all the bachelor parents. Wanna soft spot to curl up on the couch? He’s already passed out with his head back, snoring. His nice pudgy ‘dad’ belly makes the perfect pillow to rest baby heads on while he reads a book.

Bachelorettes

Abigail

The fun parent.

The kind that wakes up early on a Saturday with their kids, just as excited as they are, to eat sugar cereal and watch a show together.

Is always down to play (especially play fight). Will (endearingly) spook their partner a bit when they rough house because Abby has that wild feral look in her eye too often

The competitive parent that gets just a liiiitle too involved in whatever sport/organization/fair/et.al that the child is partaking in-all in good fun, of course.

I can picture her taking her child out to the forest, late at night, to lay on the soft moss. She’d tell them about monsters, lore, crystals, and everything supernatural and mystic. Whispering in the dark as they point up to the stars and laugh and laugh and laugh

Emily

Hippy granola mom to a T - have you seen her “organic quinoa and fresh goat milk” quote? She’d do anything to provide the best that nature has to offer her children

While her disposition toward her children is incredibly loving and free-spirited, she would probably be very resposible and stressed about doing right for her children

Would absolutely take her children by the hand, in various states of dress (jammies? Okay. Just a diaper? Alright. Ballgown? Let’s go), out to the forest with handmade woven baskets to collect all the gifts from the Earth that they can find

Absolutely the Craft Mom - she’d be all about enrichment, sensory play, and fostering a creative spirit

Tells the best stories. After bedtime routine, will sit with her children in thrir bed, and will tell stories of magic, of love, and of adventure. Her kids, eyes bright, won’t want the night to end, because mom is showing us how much wonder and mystery is in the world

Haley

So gentle and so sweet with her kids, but can send them running with just a ‘look’

Would be a nervous wreck the first go round, but an absolute master by the time the second comes around

Helicopter parent that obsesses over every milestone, growth, and accomplishment of their child. SO proud of them and can’t wait to praise them and brag about them.

The wonder parent that can do it all while looking absolutely breathtaking. She makes it look easy once she gets the hang of it

Can’t you just picture her and her baby girl in matching flowy Daisy sundresses dresses with pink ribbons in their beautiful blonde curls, chasing after each other barefoot in the fields, while the golden grass dances in the wind- gah I love this pretty pretty princess so much.

Leah

Cool Wine mom that drives a Subaru

Would absolutely read her child to bed every night, until they fell asleep.

Her transition into motherhood was flawless. She’s a natural parent who just loves in abundance

Soooo many nature walks, hikes, and camping trips. Always accompanied with a picnic basket, quiet peacefulness, and heart to hearts about whatever is going on in their life.

The definition of free-range parenting, encouraging self discovery and independence. Yeah, she’ll always step in when needed with some kind encouragement or advice, but would much rather watch her children learn about the world on their own terms

Maru

The do-it-all parent. Signs up for activities, projects, school boards, committees, and teams. Is actually on time, prepared, and succeeds in all of these.

The most prepared and responsible out of any of the parents. Always has snacks in her diaper bag and a first aid kit

Did someone say routine/chore chart

Would show love for her children through learning and new experiences-the best part about being a parent for her is watching her child’s brain turning and working as they think about the environment in front of them. At her best, her kids think she is incredibly fun and they have a blast doing anything and everything with her

Not exactly tender/overly affectionate with her kids, but absolutely concerned about being the best mom she can be by having balance of learning, play, discipline, and love.

Penny

Literally just Miss Honey from Matilda

Pinterest mom. All the crafts, DIYs, bento boxes with cute little caterpillar grapes-you name it, she’s already done it AND packed your backpack and laid your clothes out for you.

Can be heard saying “well the pediatrician said...” “hm well that’s not what dr alberts book said to do” among other “first time mom”things

Can be incredibly anxious worrying about their child’s development and well being. She’s been around kids her entire life, but this is HER child? This one doesn’t go home at the end of the day? Everything has to be absolutely perfect

The most sentimental-would absolutely weep going through the baby box to pull out the teeny tiny booties and smelling the baby blanket - “they were just SO TINY- we need another one NOW.”

#stardew valley #sdv headcanons #sdv imagines #stardew imagines #stardew abigail #stardew emily #stardew haley #stardew leah #stardew maru #stardew penny #sdv abigail #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv penny #stardew alex #stardew elliott #stardew harvey #stardew sam #stardew sebastian #stardew shane #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv sebastian #sdv shane #stardew valley headcanons

[orbitluke]

all my thoughts are consumed by you - emily prentiss smut

Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, cursing, exhibitionism

A/N: Apologies if you’ve already seen this on your dashboard, I deleted it because it wasn’t showing up under any tags. I’ve only ever written smut once before, so I hope this is ok! Feedback is welcome.

Summary: Emily can’t stop thinking about having her way with you aka my attempt at Dom!Emily.

 Word Count: 1747

 Emily found her gaze flickering from the files on her desk across the bullpen and towards you. She watched as you made your way through the paperwork that had accumulated from the most recent case in Texas. It was incredibly gruelling and left the team exhausted. The repetitive ticking of the clock on the wall reminding Emily of how long she had left until she’s able to touch you, embrace your body and feel your touch against her bare skin. Her stomach began to coil at the thought of marching over there and taking you on the desk in front of everyone. Her lips on yours as soft mewls, escape your mouth as she had her way with you. But Emily still had work to do and so did you and calling you to her office just to have her way with you would be highly inappropriate, however, not something out of ordinary for Emily.

 The mere thought brought back memories of last night when Emily had you spread on the hotel bed a mere few hours before the team were set to fly back to Quantico. The soft glow of the digital alarm clock on the bedside table, reminding you both that you had to leave in a few hours for an early lift-off. Emily lapped up your dripping core, desperate to have your taste on her tongue.

Obscene noises of Emily’s tongue against your clit filled the room, no doubt warranting a noise complaint if you were an octave higher. All you could do was grip the bedsheets, withering in pleasure, lifting your hips to meet Emily’s tongue.

 “You love having my tongue pressed against your pussy,” Emily drawled, whilst lifting her head away from your drenched cunt causing a string of wetness to trail down her chin. A knowing smirk stained Emily’s lips as licked the remnants of your arousal from around her mouth. You gasped and withered as you came down from your high, letting out a series of soft sighs.

 Your blissed-out gaze was something Emily could never forget.

 “Cumming on my mouth whilst our team are sleeping next door. Such a dirty girl.” Emily dove back in, trailing her tongue against your clit, humming against you cruelly. She pulled back once more, the sound of your wetness sending a surge of heat straight to Emily’s core. You let out a sharp gasp. You could feel Emily’s laugh through your entire body, edging you closer to another orgasm.

 “You’re nothing but a dirty whore who gets off on being caught.”

 All you could do was nod eagerly at Emily’s remark, letting a string of profanities, pathetically whining urging Emily to continue and bring you over the edge once more. Emily pulled you by your thighs. They were now draped over Emily’s shoulders. You didn’t think you could be any closer to Emily, but as she pressed a string of kiss down your inner thigh, nipping against your skin and ghosting over where you needed her most, you knew she wasn’t close enough.

 “Please!” you exclaimed, hoping your desperate cries would persuade Emily to give you what you wanted, but Emily wasn’t going to give in that easily.

 “Oh, does my baby want to cum?” Emily taunted, watching you, her desperate girlfriend, spread out and aching. 

  With one single movement, Emily had pulled you up so your faces were a few inches apart. Emily gripped your waist allowing you to shift her weight and wrap your thighs around Emily’s waist allowing you to steady your erratic breathing. You knew Emily could see your blissed-out gaze and feel your growing wetness against her bare leg, so desperate for Emily’s touch. Emily trailed a line of kisses along our jaw until she reached your earlobe where she whispered lewd phrases into your ear, edging you even further.

 You jutted your hips at Emily’s words, the feeling of Emily’s thigh sliding against you hit her just in the right place, sending shivers down your spine.

 “Such a needy, impatient little girl.”

 Emily found her own heat growing. She thrived on making you so desperate that you’d do anything to get off, even rubbing yourself against Emily’s thigh.

 “Don’t make me punish you.”

 Emily shifted her grip on your waist, allowing you to have better access. 

You let out a low moan, circling your hips once more as Emily edged you on. You could feel the familiar heat grow in your lower stomach. You were so close, but you knew if you came before Emily said so you wouldn’t be cumming any time soon.

 Much to your dismay, Emily’s grip on your waist tightened, making your movements come to a halt and your impending orgasm fade. Emily could feel you clench against her thigh. Your breathing unsteady and hair slick against your forehead.

 Emily pressed her lips against yours, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face.

 “You’re doing so good baby.” She coaxed.

 You could taste yourself on Emily’s tongue, reminding you that you were nothing but a dripping mess. Emily groaned as this, watching you nearly come apart from such a simple action.

  Emily reached down between your thighs rubbing your clit profusely.

 “Oh god.” You cried, reaching your hands up to your bare chest and rubbing your hardened nipples.

 Emily’s hand became covered by your wetness, allowing her to slide two fingers inside of you with ease, whilst her thumb brushed over your sensitive clit.

 You could feel yourself falling over the edge as Emily pushed her fingers further inside you. You slammed hips harder against Emily’s hand, whining at the closeness of your orgasm.

 “C’mon baby, you can do it, cum on my fingers.”

 With one last drawl of your hips, you could feel Emily reach your spot perfectly, triggering the familiar sensation of heat to bubble inside you. The room filled with a string of sinful noises. Wetness and a symphony of moans were music to Emily’s ears. Emily could feel her own arousal begin to grow as she heard you come down from your high. Your bare chest was pressed together, both panting rapidly as Emily let out a string of praises.

 The mere memory of the previous night causes Emily to press her legs together. All Emily wanted to do was taste you again and feel you come undone against her once more.

 A steady knock on the door broke Emily from her trance, making her remember she was not ravishing you right now, but still trapped in her office by dreaded work.

 “Come in.” Emily coughed, trying to hide her arousal, shifting in her seat as she attempted to ease the throbbing in her core.

Profilers seemed to be able to see past the smallest thing. Even the change in someone’s voice. Luckily for Emily, it was only Anderson dropping off some sheets she had asked to be copied, therefore unable to micro-analyse her behaviour. She was just Unit Chief Emily Prentiss.

 Emily pressed a small smile as she watched Anderson hand her the documents, muttering a small thank you. She continued with some small pleasantries.

As Anderson made the move to leave, he seemed to come to a pause in the door frame as he pulled her office door opening, shifting to the side and apologising as he moved out of the way for someone else. 

Emily looked up from where her eyes had been focused on the sheets to see you moving past Anderson, your fist held up as if you were about to knock.

Once Anderson was out of earshot you closed the door behind her, a smirk plastered across your face.

 “Agent Y/L/N what can I do for you.” Emily tried to remain poised as if her mind hadn’t been elsewhere moments ago.

 You moved closer to Emily, your finger sliding along the edge of Emily’s desk, faux innocence residing in your intentions.

 “I saw you watching me.” You gleamed, cocking your head to the side with a coy smile.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emily spoke with faux confusion as she set the documents she had been holding aside.

 You furrowed your brows, displeased by Emily’s response. You knew what you saw, and even now you could see the way Emily had pressed her legs together. 

 Leaned forward, you gripped the edge of her desk.

 “Oh,” You had begun, making sure she had a clear view of your cleavage. You made sure to wear a low-cut top. 

Emily remained unphased. Standing up straight, you continued. “I suppose you wouldn’t like to see this then.” 

You lifted up your skirt, revealing a lack of underwear, your lips slick with arousal. 

 “I was thinking about last night.” Your words were steady as you watched Emily shift in her seat. “But if you’re not bothered, I guess I could find someone else. Maybe Anderson would like a taste.” 

 Emily’s eyes darkened. Her shoulders were suddenly rigid. 

 “Close the blinds and lock the door.”

 You gleamed at Emily’s words, your smile much wider than before. You moved hurriedly, proud of the reaction you caused. Stumbling over your feet, you pulled the blinds closed, quickly checking if anyone was watching her actions. 

 The BAU was almost empty. Only Spencer had resided. His feet were crossed and propped up on his desk as he read over a file.  

 Only a few members of the team knew you were a couple. Tara had pegged you from the beginning, she often spent time with the Unit Chief and watched how her gaze lingered on you a little longer than most. Spencer, being the resident genius prided himself of being the first one to receive confirmation from you, after finding you with your lips locked in the evidence room. Despite your numerous rendezvous, you had managed to avoid the prying eyes of a higher-up. You’d face scrutiny for breaking protocol if they found out, especially Emily for being the Unit Chief, therefore, formalities remained whenever you were around anyone other than the team, but the feeling of your skin on hers would be worth it.

  “Is anyone there?” Emily quirked. She’d turned her chair to face you, her legs spread as an invitation for you to come closer.

 “J-just Spencer.”

 “What was that?” Emily pressed, her eyes furrowed, a gleam in her eye as she watched you squirm under her gaze.

 “Just Spencer Ma’am.”

 Perhaps Emily was going to have her way with you much sooner than she thought.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss one shot #criminal minds x reader #bau imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #jennifer jareau #Penelope Garcia #Tara Lewis #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #david rossi

[alreadyblondenow]

And life will always be la vie en rose

Mark Lee x reader // FLUFF, SMUT, SMUT

Themes: long distance relationship, established relationship, very domestic

Word count: 4k

Summary: The city of love with the person you love. Mark surprises you in Paris but the vacation was not going as expected.

Warnings: phone sex, unprotected sex, swearing, mentions of alcohol, drunk mark lee hehe

A/N: Inspired by Emily in Paris and Mark’s TVN short drama. requested by @mellowvoidexpertfriend​​ sorry it took me awhile :( and I hope this makes you happy. Thank you for requesting it! I wanted to give it a sad ending but figured you might hate me if I do that.

Its been almost seven months since you moved to Paris for work and leave the life you’ve always been used to. Your family, friends, your boyfriend Mark, all of them knew that moving to the city of love for your career is a big step.

Although some of them did not agree with your decision that you’re choosing your career, at least you have your boyfriend’s support no matter what. Mark has been with you since you were just starting at your job, he’s always supportive and caring even though he has his own career to take care of. Long distance is hard, but there’s nothing Mark wouldn’t do for you.

“Good morning, Paris” he greets you with a bright smile, the perfect afternoon light hits his face perfectly. You miss seeing that glow in person.

“Good afternoon, Seoul “ you answered with a raspy tone. Still sleepy but happy to see Mark, even if it’s from your phone screen.

“Tired? I miss you” he says, smiling sweetly through the screen. He was still in bed, comfortably laid with his thick blue sheets and striped fluffy pillows.

“Yes. I have a lot of stuff to do in the office today. But I still got time, no need to rush this call” you stretched in bed.

“Want to have phone sex?” He was hesitating to ask you but Mark was really horny in the middle of a hot afternoon. Good thing mornings make you horny like crazy too, so you said ‘yes’ and the next thing you know is you’re both naked in bed, phone on the bedside table with a perfect view of your naked body.

“Run a finger up and down your slit” he commands. You can hear soft grunts from Mark already, pumping his semi-hard cock on the screen. “Yes baby, you look hot” he moans and you smile at his compliment.

“Oh I miss touching your boobs, the next time I see you I’ll grip those so hard- ah” he was having a hard time talking because watching you touch yourself was always too good and too much for him. “So good baby, pinch your nipples for me” he added. You moan and with your free hand, you lick your fingers and rubbed it on your nipples and made sure to let him hear your soft moans.

“Fuck- that was hot” he was going a little too fast pumping his cock, the sound of it was turning you on, and how Mark bites his lips and rolls his head back, watch you with half-lidded eyes. You just smiled, knowing that he’s your man and only you can see him like this. “What’s that smile for? I love it when you smile like that” you giggle at what he said.

“Baby, I’m near” it was a high-pitched moan and you curl yourself a little, trying to stop yourself from cumming so fast.

“Okay-fuck, spread your legs- yeah just like that” you followed what he said and you see his lower abdomen go up and down a little too fast, obvious that he’s stopping himself from cumming before you do. “Remember how I fucked you during your last night here- Ahhh. You were begging me to stop but I couldn’t cause your pussy is so good”

“Fuck Mark” you were still moaning deliciously, trying not to close your legs for Mark. His eyes were fixed to your body, your lips that he misses so much, how you work wonders with your own fingers.

“Oh! I will, Y/n. I will- fuck—you”

You came first then Mark, you watch his thick cum land on his stomach. Watching him look so weak and sweaty but still handsome. He caught you looking at him while you were cleaning your fingers, he winked at you and smiled which made you shy for no reason.

“I love you. Can I talk to you for a couple more minutes?” he requests, holding his phone near his face after he cleaned his cum.

“I love you too. Of course. We can still talk while I’m in the shower” he nod his head in disbelief. And smiled oh so sweetly to you before he tells you about his morning and how he had a dream of you. He was promoted last month, so there’s not much work for him these days because he’s basically a boss now. To be honest you feel bad for not being with him to celebrate for his promotion, talking to him for as long as he likes is the least you can do for him. Sometimes you’re talking to him while you walk to your office, or having lunch alone, virtual dates, or letting him pick what lipstick suits you on a certain outfit.

For almost a year, it was the little things that make you both even more in love with each other and no one is complaining.

“Hey Y/n, the boss wants to see you with your presentation now” your assistant knocked on your door, holding it for you as you gather your laptop and pretend that you’re not nervous.

“What if she hates my ideas?” you asked your assistant, walking together slowly to the conference room.

“The dragon lady will love it, don’t overthink it” she pats your back good luck and opened the door for you.

During your presentation, your boss had this I’m-bored-can-we-go-home-now face and it was bothering you while you were talking in front. Nonetheless, you delivered every single detail perfectly and smoothly that the other members of the board were impressed, and you hope the dragon lady is too.

“Good. Make it happen. Are we done here? Give her the company credit card and I want updates every week. Dismissed”

That’s your cue to breathe. Finally, you can relax. You were smiling from ear to ear for a minute then you remember all the work that you have to finish. Making this project happen-making this fundraiser happen, will seriously impress your boss and the other members of the board. You can’t afford to fuck up.  

Overworking doesn’t bother you at all, you don’t care if you’re the last one in the office and the first one to come the next day. You love your job and you value it. But to be honest, overworking is your coping mechanism. To stop thinking about home and Mark, just continue until you make it.

You got home and talked to Mark about the great news, of course, he’s very proud of you. Then you talked about the list of things that you have to work on for the project, and you wish you didn’t. Mark loves you, and that’s clear but he hates it when you overwork.

“Can’t you, make someone else do it?” easy for him to say because he’s a boss now.

“No, baby I can’t. This is my one way ticket to be the boss. If I make this happen, then okay, I’ll order everyone I see. But for now... sorry babe, it’s work for me” you said while unzipping your dress and moving around your room to change into some comfortable clothes. “Are you mad?” you asked, hoping he’s not.

“I can’t be mad at you, for loving what you do. I’m worried, that’s all”

After that call, Mark was dealing with some of his work as well and thinking about how he can rescue you from overworking. Well, he only had one effective solution. And that is to visit you in Paris and be with you so he can take care of you for a short time. He wasn’t going to visit until Christmas, but he couldn’t wait much longer.

He gave himself a week to think this all out and plan his surprise to you. He booked a flight, took two weeks off from work, and packed his bags.

You, on the other hand, is busy overworking tonight at the office. You feel heavy and exhausted, hungry but you just want to sleep when you finally get home, and Mark hasn’t messaged you like he normally does in almost two days. You feel awful, but Paris at night can quickly take away all youe exhaustion. Everywhere you look is beautiful.

As you force yourself not to feel tired on your way home, you saw a familiar figure who just got out of the taxi with a bunch of luggage. Am I dreaming? You slightly slap your face and walk slowly behind the man and wait for him to turn around.

When he did, you almost burst into tears.

It’s been seven months since you last saw Mark in the flesh.

“Hi, you look exactly like my girlfriend” he smiled and scrunched his nose, pull you into a hug, and kissed you in front of your apartment building. Paris is starting to feel like the city of love, finally.

You helped him with his bags up to your apartment, feeling so excited and happy that the tiredness that you’re feeling earlier was long gone. As soon as you reached your door and opened it, Mark put down the bags and crashed into your lips. Kissing you in the dark with only the light from your window.

“Oh, I’m never going to leave your side,” he said while hungrily kissing you. Removing your clothes one by one, making a trail of clothes until you reach your room, and pushed you on your bed. It’s been seven months since you last had sex with him and you’re sure that Mark will make you feel good tonight, as always. He may look innocent and cute always, but Mark knows how to fuck.

“We just have to be quiet tonight Mark- French neighbors. Don’t want to piss them with my moans” you warn him before his cold hand lands on your boobs, touch them softly and squeeze them tightly as he promised.

“Okay, let’s just keep our moans between us two” he kisses your lips as his way of saying, he’s going to start now. Kissing you down to your body until he reaches your pussy, to show that you're eager, you spread your legs widely for him and begged quietly. He used his pinky finger and slides it up and down your slit slowly. So slowly that it makes your legs shiver and your hips jolt, giving you goosebumps and making you sensitive already. He smiled at your reaction, happy that he has that effect on you.

“Wet” he murmurs and proceeds to kiss your pussy, like it was your lips. Feeling his hot tongue on your cunt, using it to fuck you. He spits on your cunt and let you feel it roll down your slit. It makes you sensitive and moans his name. He goes back in and licks you good, his hands run softly on your stomach, making you feel calm and confused. When he felt that you’re already on the edge, he watches you moan quietly, pinched your nipples, and did not released it until you’re shivering and shaking your legs uncontrollably.

You catch your breath until you see Mark above you, kissing your cheeks and reaching for your hands to intertwine it with his. “I just miss you, is it too much?” you shook your head with a smile and kissed your boyfriend back.

“My turn to give back,” you said weakly, but you’re already pushing him on the mattress. On your way to straddle the man you love and ride him good. You kissed him softly, grinding on his cock and spreading your juices on it. Brushing his nipples softly, which made him stop kissing you to let out a curse and tell you to don’t stop. It was too much for him but he likes it, overstimulating himself was his favorite and he drags you into that pleasure of his.

As you put his cock inside you, he grab holds on your wrist that he allows you to rest on his strong chest as you fuck him. Seeing you on top of him after for so long was toe-curling for him. The thought of it makes him blush, but also his view of your boobs in front of his face makes him smile too. He licks it once, “Oh- Baby, do that again?” you ask of him, he knew you would like it.

Your boobs are perfectly being sucked by Mark while you bounce up and down on him, rolling your hips at a steady pace. He lets go of your right nipple with a wet sound, feeling both of your nipples really swollen and sensitive. “Can’t hold on much longer baby, let me take over?” he was already on edge, you are too, but you let him take control and let him fuck you senseless that you were covering your mouth to stop yourself from moaning to loud.

“Bite me,” he said and you didn’t think twice, you bit his shoulder as you ride your high. He was cumming so hard too and his whimpers were muffled by the pillow behind you. You feel like he's going to crush your hand by gripping it so tightly and he feels like his shoulder is about to bleed.

It was a romantic night in the city of love. Both exhausted from sex but you two never kept quiet and talked to each other all through the night, watching the Eiffel Tower from your window, bodies covered with your thin sheets. You snuggle to Mark sniffing his armpit and making him giggle like a teenager, he tickles your legs and making you jolt and kick him a little too hard which made you both laugh so hard. You were away from each other for a long time, but your love stays the same and neither one of you is planning to ruin it.

The next day, Mark woke up with the smell of freshly cooked omelet and the zest of freshly squeezed orange juice. He looked at your clock on the bedside table, and it was almost lunchtime. He was quick to put on his glasses and find you, still naked because of last night’s intimacy but he doesn’t care. He feels home because you’re the first person he sees. Mark wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I was wondering where did my shirt go,” he says with a raspy voice. It’s obvious that he’s still sleepy but he wants to spend as much time with you.

“Still sleepy?” you turn around after turning the stove off, “And still naked with only your glasses, huh? You look like a nerdy porn star” you tease him, slap his ass, and made him wear at least his sweatpants and come eat breakfast with you.

“You don’t have work today?” he asks, chewing his omelet and drinking his juice.

“I have but, I call in sick for three days. Wouldn’t want to waste time” you said, smiling and winked at him. “You know, I know why you’re here. And I want you to know it’s working” he chuckled and scratched his head, busted he thought. “But I can only leave work for three days, after that I promise you I will do my best to still be with you, and not waste your time here-“ you were talking too fast, rambling that he didn’t have any choice but to stop you from talking.  

“Understood, baby chill. I’m not here to sabotage your career, I’m here to take care of you”

In those three days, you and Mark enjoy Paris like a married couple enjoying their honeymoon. You’ve never enjoyed Paris like this, all thanks to Mark, the city became even more special and magical for you. You brought him to different French restaurants and made him eat a lot of good food and a lot of Watermelons, of course. You toured the city hand in hand, going to art galleries and taking countless pictures. The winery tour and your dinner date made Mark really drunk and it made him ten times even more funny. It was a struggle to bring him back to your apartment in his drunken state, but you love him too much that you even enjoyed his drunken company.

“I’m gonna ask you to marry me okay? Are you ready?” you help him step by step as you go up to your apartment, laughing so loud and disturbing your french neighbors, he was going on and on talking about marriage. “It’s true, check my pocket get the ring”

There's a huge part of you that secretly hopes that he’s telling the truth. Even if he’s proposing in his drunken state and couldn’t pop a knee, it’s okay. The staircase is still romantic for you and drunk or not, you love Mark with all your heart and soul. If Mark was telling the truth… you will say ‘yes’ and accept it will all your heart.

With all your bravery, you checked the pocket of his jacket and looked for a ring or a box. Honestly, you don’t know what you’re searching for. But there’s no ring. It made you disappointed but just laughed it all out and soothe his back because he’s about to throw up.

You reached your apartment, just in time for Mark to puke and curse every alcohol in the world. “Sorry if I’m a burden” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your toilet bowl while reaching for the flush.

“You’re never a burden. Feeling okay? Come on I’ll help you clean up” you kissed him on the forehead and left to get some clean clothes for him.

You spent the night taking care of Mark, enjoying how he hugs you so tight like he’s a child while he whines about how his head hurts. The night mostly consists of him whispering his apologies and never-ending I love you’s, while you still think about what he said earlier. Even if it didn’t happen tonight, the fact that he brought it up, finally, means that he was thinking of doing it someday. And that thought alone made you throw away your disappointment and hug him even more tightly.

Days go by and you juggle work and spending time with Mark and enjoy Paris. You feel bad letting him visit some great places alone or stay inside your apartment until you come home from work and go out finally. It was heartbreaking in many ways, but you didn’t have a choice.

On Mark’s first weekend in Paris, the first thing you did is wake him so early with loving kisses and go to the market with him. There, you and mark bought food for dinner tonight and promised you will cook for him. He was so in love with the city but had a hard time talking to French people.

“Wow, your French has improved” he praises you, “I read somewhere on the internet that the best way to learn the French language is in bed. Is there something I need to know, huh Baby?” he kissed your forehead to let you know that he’s only joking and completely well aware that cheating on him is beyond impossible.

“Fuck me in Korean then so I can learn it too” it made you both laugh, finding each other completely hilarious.

“Okay, I’ll fuck the Korean words out of you tonight”

The dinner you made was delicious, and it made Mark sad for a second because he realized he has to wait for a few months more to taste your cooking again. To light up the mood, you didn’t let him have a single alcohol tonight and made fun of his alcohol tolerance. And soon, after cleaning up from dinner, you two made love again.

He was balls inside you while you were making the pretties moans only for him to hear, he suddenly moaned Korean words which made you lost it and laughed so loud, your voices could be heard from your open window.

“Were you about to cum? I’m sorry, I just want to make you happy” he said, still inside you but not moving anymore.

“On edge, yeah. But I am, happy Mark. You came to Paris for me, even though I work my ass off while you’re still here. Oh, baby, I feel sorry.” You whine and nuzzle to the side of his sweaty face.

“Will you be happier if I ask you to marry me? Hmm?”

You were like a statue when you heard him talk about it again, and this time he’s sober. He kissed you back to reality, smiling nervously on top of you while waiting for your answer. “Hey” he kissed you again, giggling awkwardly.

“Of-of course I’ll be happy- are you proposing now?” you were stuttering and your hands were shaking as you reach for his face to cup it and kiss him. Tears in your eyes, pure happiness.

“While I'm still inside of you? No- I already have the ring, but with all that’s going on with your work right now. I just had to be sure, you want this. The last thing I want is to ruin our relationship and I’m sorry I had to say this to you while I’m still inside of you-“

You stopped him from rambling and talking too much, “Save it for breakfast. Now, continue fucking me in Korean” you both giggled again in no time. The night went on but it became, even more, sweeter for the both of you, more fucking in Korean happened and both of you slept like angels.

The morning after, you two made breakfast while trying so hard to keep your hands from each other. Obviously, the sweetness from last night hasn’t died yet. Marriage is not always a bed of roses, you’re aware of that, but you pray and pray that you and Mark stay the same like this for many years more.

“So that night at the stairs?” you asked him, taking a sip of from your coffee, eyes never leaving each other.

“I was serious but too drunk. I was going to talk about it with you that night, but…” you understand. Still, it made you happy. The morning was filled with laughter and kisses with Mark, talking more about marriage and the possibilities of having kids, shower sex, and him helping you prepare for work.

When you were just about to leave, “Oh! I almost forgot, fuck, Uhm- I need you to be my date tomorrow night. It’s the event that I’ve been working on, here” you hand him your credit card, “Sorry I can’t go with you. Buy yourself a nice suit okay? I’ll see you at dinner, I’ll be a little late, but I’ll make it to dinner” and again, you feel bad about treating him this way.

Mark is amazing in many ways, he bought a nice suit for your event tomorrow night and looked for a quiet french restaurant where he can propose to you properly. It was not hard, but talking to French people was not easy either. All he had in mind was, you deserved a romantic proposal.

Your most awaited day finally comes and everything is running smoothly. You haven’t seen Mark, because the dragon lady wanted you to get ready with her at the hotel where she was staying. “Have you seen Mark?” you asked your assistant, “I left him at the gallery. I told him you’ll meet him shortly”

After a few minutes of saying 'hi' 'hello' to the guests, you forgot that you were looking for your boyfriend and felt bad for doing that.

“Hey beautiful” he whispered behind you, and you almost spilled your champagne. You turned around and see the most handsome man on Earth, wearing a black and white suit with a slightly crooked bow tie. Your mind swims to the question, ‘will he be this handsome on your wedding day?’

“Wow- I’m speechless” is all you can say while admiring him like he's one of the paintings hanged on the wall.  

“You look expensively beautiful” he greets you with a kiss and you fixed his bow tie, asking for a kiss again that he happily gave. You showed him around and introduced him to your friends, exchanged laughs for a minute then you're around working again, leaving him alone. He watches you do your job, even if he’s left alone most of the time. Nonetheless, the event was a success and you’re soon to be promoted, the dragon lady told you herself.

“Baby, I’m sorry”

“What for? You were great the whole night” he helps you unzip your beautiful Valentino dress.

“How many times did we talk tonight, I feel bad” you whine and helped him with his tie while you’re all exposed, wearing only your black lingerie. He played with the strap of your bra and proceeds to palm your ass. You did the same because he has a much nicer ass, he chuckled and kissed you to bed. Just like that, Mark turned everything around.

It’s his last day in Paris today, he leaves tomorrow morning. And you hate it. The bed feels, even more, warmer with him in it, you’re not ready to let go yet. “Don’t worry. We have forever to make the bed warm. Right?” he tries to cheer you up. “Don’t forget the dinner tonight okay?” he added.

Your day went on with Mark and you two spend more time together talking about life and everything under the sun, laughing while eating watermelons, until you had to leave again for the company dinner. It was supposed to be a night filled with Mark and Mark only but your boss decided to throw a dinner celebration for a successful event the other night, and you can’t miss it because she told you, ‘Show up tonight. Don’t piss me’. with a sly smirk that you oh so hate.  

It was heartbreaking. You don’t know if the dragon lady knew that Mark was going to propose tonight or it’s just your life, ruining your perfect relationship with Mark. The dinner ended almost before midnight and you ran to the restaurant Mark told you not caring anymore if these Manolo pumps cost a fortune.

There, you saw Mark playing the piano while the restaurant staff was already cleaning up, fixing tables and chairs. It's been a while since the last time you saw him play an instrument, he knew you love it when he sings for you. You looked around the place and figured how he found a place like this in a country he's not familiar with. He was trying so hard during his whole stay, and you just watched and you let the people from work drain you until there’s nothing left for Mark.

He was still playing the piano sadly when you embraced him from behind, greeting him with a kiss. Feeling sorry for ruining the night he has planned for the two of you. He stopped and faked a smile, it was obvious and it pains you to see him like this. The space was quiet, and you notice that the staff were nice enough to give you two some privacy. He continued playing the piano and started singing the song his father used when he proposed to his mother.

You feel unworthy of his love.

Mark kissed you before he stands up, but all you wanted to do is say sorry over and over again. But you didn’t want to ruin the mood. You watch him bend on one knee, smiling shyly but you can say that he knows what he's doing. “Even if I already know the answer, and even if you become the busiest woman in Paris, marry me? Make me the happiest man alive?”

You were in tears, but you don’t know if it's made of happiness or sadness. There was a moment of silence that made him nervous and thought that maybe you changed your mind. It was making him nervous.

“Yes yes, of course”

Mark sighed in relief and let out a nervous laugh. He puts the ring on your finger and dried your tears before he kisses you. You see his sharp cheekbones appear from too much smiling and told you that his cheeks hurt.

That very moment made you realize that your job here in Paris and your boss, doesn’t deserve you. You can be amazing somewhere else, somewhere closer to Mark. In that way, you can be busy, yes, but you can come home to him every day and fuck in Korean the whole night.

#nct-writers #nct smut #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #nct fluff #mark lee x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut

[insufferablelust]

Pretty little thing, (II)

Warnings : this series will be filled with Adult content, upcoming smut, murder, psychotic behaviors, dark kinks, traumatic events, manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation, interrogations, Daddy issues, abusive parents, blood, Spencer Reid x Unsub!Reader.

This is a dark fic, there might be stuff that could trigger you so please read with caution and/or don’t read it if you are sensitive to the stuff in the warnings.

MASTERLIST.

——————

like i’m a flower,

that’ll rot at a speed of light,

like i’m a ripe peach,

that’ll bruise in the daylight.

——————

“Y/N Y/l/N put your hands on the air and hand us your weapon!”

Y/N’s brain thrummed against her skull, her lips quivered as she laughed loudly at the situation she was under, her hands up after she has tossed her gun and knife, turning around with knuckles all bloodied and face tear stained with angry red splotches— the sight truly psychotic.

“You’re making the biggest fucking mistake, Professor.” She chuckled, head tilting to the side at the gun cocking beside her head. Her eyes never leaving Spencer’s as Luke cuffed her scarred wrists behind her break and guided her outside of the house to the police car.

Spencer watched as she continued laughing from inside the car, her eyes never leaving his as his eyes stayed with hers. “She’s truly a narcissist huh?” He was blurred out of his thoughts by JJ’s voice beside him, His brain can’t seemed to let go of her voice chanting ‘mistake’ over and over inside his head.

“Spence?” JJ tapped his shoulder, jolting him from his mindless thoughts of a girl, the girl he arrested, the girl in the car, the girl who killed so many others, the girl who worked with cat, the girl— that looked innocent.

————

He stared at her through the window pane, he saw her bandaged knuckles, her head hung low and the wrist twisting around the cuffs. The more Spencer looked at her, the more he connected the dots, the more her remembered every foggy memories that surrounded her, every time cat mentioned her name before.

“Y/l/N isn’t dumb Spencie—“ Cat rolled her eyes, “She’s quite smart actually, when i’m dead she wouldn’t dare to betray me. do you know why?” She challenged, licking her lips in a cocky manner,

“Tell me.”

“Because i live inside her, every time she breathes it’s because i allow it— even after i’m dead, she’ll keep doing what she does best, killing our fathers.”

Our fathers,

Our fathers,

“Our fathers.” Spencer blurted out suddenly, alerting Emily who was about to stepped into the interrogation room. “What?”

“Our fathers, that’s what cat said when i visited her last to talk about Y/N.” He whispered the last part, still unable to connect all the dots. It’s like when it comes to Y/N, he freezes, he stopped breathing, his mind stopped thinking. Its like he had known her for so long— that she was someone special to him.

“Let me talk to her..” He pleaded, fingers gripping the door tightly— eyes begging Prentiss to just let him talk to her. “Spencer you’re—“

“Conflict of interest, yes but i— i know her better than anyone here okay, give me a chance. She trusted me more because she knows me.” Emily’s eyes switched between Spencer’s and Rossi’s, looking for the best decision. “You know the protocols, just get her to talk, if things get difficult in there i won’t hesitate to pull you out of this case.” She stated firmly giving the files over to Reid, which he thanked her for, before stepping into the room.

———

Y/N felt him before even seeing him, she felt the warmth of his presence before she even had the knowledge of touching him— his body heat. Yet, Y/N knew it was him, he’s here with her. She kept her head low, closing her eyes tightly as she felt the low rumble of his voice as he sat down on the opposite chair.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She smiled, the sound of her name— her real name rolling from his tongue brought her some peace and quiet. Stopping her raging mind from all the torture she endured. It was 5 seconds of heaven, she concluded.

“Y/N, I’m—“

She giggled before he even muttered a third word, she giggled loudly but her head kept hanging down, she could already paint his expression inside her mind— she had studied him in great details for years, she knew every twitch of his face without even looking at him, like it was imprinted deep in the core of her memory.

“Is there something funny?”

He used that tone, the tone that made her shivered whenever he uses them on class, when he had scolded her because she was late, when he corrected her because she ‘accidentally’ did all her homework wrong. The very same tone she adored, that made her nerves twitched and seared her core. So she shrugged, licking her lips as if he could see her.

“Y/N Y/l/N, born November 17th 1985, only daughter of Amethyst Ren who died giving birth to her, and William—“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Her head snapped, looking at him with a sharp glare— a glare so sharp that it could cut through the glass. Spencer remained calm as he sees the way her fingers twitching together, and her skin on her wrist digging painfully against the cuffs.

“Be careful not to hurt yourself, as i was saying.. William Y/l/N who was a—“

“Fucking stop.” Her skin digs through the cuffs painfully as tears spilled out of her eyes— her tone was raging with anger.

Reid looked at her briefly before continuing with a straight face, trying so hard not to show any emotions, “A local businessman, apparently he raised Y/N—“

“You have a fucking death wish, Professor.” The blood dripped onto the interrogation table as the sharp cuffs nicked the skin, her legs bounced hard against the desk, a sign of agitation and pent up frustration.

“He raised Y/N dutifully and he—“

“He was an abusive fucking prick, who destroyed my life.” Y/N screamed loudly, her hand banging the table as Emily marched in to the room, trying to pull Spencer out, “Reid, out.” She said sternly but Spencer refused.

“He was a fucking coward, do you know what he did, professor? he broke me— damaged me into this this fucking monster” Y/N let out a sinister smile as she fought through the sobs, “My mother— my mother, he killed my mother. He killed her because do you know what men like him wants? what gets him off, professor? some young girl to torture,” She’s full on laughing now as she stopped the bounce on her knees and stilled completely,

“My mother was his precious girl, yet she’d grown too old so- so then he had me— and it was time for her to go.” She tilted her head to the side, “I was perfect for him, his personal punching bag..” Y/N closed her eyes briefly before opening them again and smiled sweetly at Spencer and Emily, “I never killed anyone, not once, i might be insane— might thought about killing, but there’s only one person i want to kill, and i haven’t gotten the chance yet.” She leaned in closer to Spencer as her waist bent over the table,

“I’m not Cat, Professor. I’m smarter than her, you know that. She thought she manipulated me, made me her personal clean up puppet. But, look at us now— she’s underground and i’m up here with her favorite man.” Y/N bit her lips, eyes pierced at Spencer’s “If you want to Arrest me, arrest me. But you know damn well, i’m just an innocent and beaten up daddy’s girl. My hands are clean.” She sat back down as her eyes flicked to Emily and smiles sweetly,

“I want a lawyer, please and thank you.”

————

“We’ve got enough evidence to arrest her, her fingerprints was all over Cat’s victims.” JJ voice rang through the room as the others kept on discussing about Y/N lawyering up,

“Yeah, but why is she lawyering up now? she knew about the evidence, she left them on purpose at the latest crime scene 2 years ago.” Rossi said, his eyes trailed over to Spencer who hasn’t said much after the interrogation room, eyes glued to her file and seemingly deep in thought.

“Right, it doesn’t make sense. She could’ve stayed hidden if she wanted to— she managed to do that all this time. Why expose herself to Spencer now?” Tara chimed in, head shaking at the puzzle thats in front of them, confusing each and every one of them. Whilst Spencer’s eyes blinked repeatedly as he remembered, the words that left Y/N’s lips,

“My hands are clean.”

“You know that, Professor.”

“Beaten up Daddy’s girl,”

“Daddy’s girl.”

“She never killed anyone.” The table went silent as he spoke up, his eyes darted to the picture of William on the board then back to his team,

“Spencer—“ JJ was about to cut him off before he murmured,

“The reason why she exposed herself now is because she found her ultimate target, the one she has been after all these years, she was right— she’s way too smart to fall into anyone’s game even Cat’s. I’ve seen her ability enough times to know how observant and smart she is combined with the fact that She has managed to stay hidden all these years when Cat was too unstable to see through my lies when i arrested her,

That’s why we never found any evidence except the fingerprints— we profiled that this splatter of blood..” He pointed to the picture on the board and took a deep sigh “was an act of someone cleaning up, all of the murder site said the same things about her fingerprints— clean up.” He finishes, whispering the last word.

Spencer looked up to see his teammates all shocked, especially JJ who has her palm on top of his shoulder trying to say something but clearly couldn’t, then his eyes flicked to Emily as she stood and walked over to him,

“It’s not impossible.” She stated, leaning into the table as she used her palm to support her body, “Emily—“ It was Alvez this time whom raised the doubt,

“No i mean think about it, The blood, the way she stayed hidden and her sudden appearance, her behaviors— we profiled her as the exact epitome of Cat Adams but what if that was only her cover up. If she was truly a narcissistic psychopath she wouldn’t have the ego to deny any of the murders— she would be proud of it. What if, all these time we weren’t looking for a killer, but the misunderstood puppeteer?” Emily grabbed a photo of her and placed it on the table,

“Well then who’s her actual target?” Penelope bit her lip nervously as Spencer placed a photo of,

“William Y/L/N, her father.” Next to her’s.

“Garcia—“

“On it!”

————

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( @drreidshands , @annestine , @addie5264 , @maybankslut , @lolitstiana , @imjusthereformggcontent )

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[smellslikemultifandomimagines]

Emily prentiss getting in a argument with the reader. Just pure angst

paring: emily prentiss x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: child victim (no gruesome details, just a mention), shooting, angst.

To say the case was a difficult and dangerous one would be a complete understatement. The unsub has been hard to catch; one minute you’re on his tail, the next he’s gone. He was profiled to be a white man, with average intelligence and was organised. Through his killings of happy families, he displays two different personalities, including sadistic and volatile, yet sensitive and remorseful. This lead the bau to believe they were dealing with more than one unsub, but from the way he killed his victims, it suggested that only one person was involved. Priors would include breaking and entering, possession of illegal drugs, and assault, but due to his age at the time, he only served a few years in juvenile and did mostly community service work. 

Everyone paired up into a motel room while working on the case. You and Emily, of course shared a room together. The first night was easy, both of you slept in each other’s arms, as you usually do, and slept quite well knowing that the next day was going to be a big one. The second night, and all the other nights following after that, however, weren’t. Both of you tossed and turned, bodies hot one minute, cold the next. The frustration and irritation kept building and building, creating a thick atmosphere between all of you.

Finally, it was the last day on the case. You knew it was when Hotch woke everyone up at about 3 in the morning, alerting that the unsub is being held in a gas station. Excitement and adrenaline runs through your body as you dress in your usual jeans and shirt, laying it with the FBI vest. Emily, however, is on edge. 

“Emily, it’s going to be fine, we’ve got him.”

“I just have a bad feeling about this,” she mumbles, sighing as she shoves her phone into her back pocket before opening the motel door. 

“It’ll be over in no time, I promise,” you kiss her gently on the cheek and take her hand in yours. The two of you walk over to the others and get in a car with Derek and JJ, leaving Spencer, Hotch and Rossi the other car. 

Hurriedly, Derek drives to the case station. The second you’re able to see what’s inside, your stomach drops. Emily is right. 

The unsub stands behind the registry, looking petrified as he notices the cars pull up, knowing it’s the FBI. The gun in his hand is pointed at the child (who you assumed was his foster brother, Dylan), who is secured tightly against the unsub’s chest. 

“FBI, put your gun down,” Morgan directs at the unsub with his gun pointing at him. 

“no, no, you don't understand, these people were-”

“neglectful when you were growing up, and now you feel you have to get back at them.” you interrupt, lowering your gun as you take a step towards the unsub. HIs eyes narrow at you in confusion, eyebrows knitting as he shakes his head. 

“how’d you know that?”

“it doesn’t matter how I know. But what I can tell you is, you feel lost. As a child, you never felt your voice was heard, or that you were good enough - always wanting to make your parents proud, but when they didn’t give you the attention you desired, you acted out. You started dealing in school, which escalated to breaking and entering charges, and finally moving out to a coke house.” The unsub lowers his arm with the gun as he listens to you. You can feel Emily’s intense stare on you as you step closer to the unsub. Knowing what you just said wasn't enough for him to surrender, you continue. 

“when you heard your parents were fostering Dylan, it broke you. He was getting the attention and the love from your parents that you wanted. I mean, if you ask me, that’s not fair is it?”

“no it’s not,” he spits, making direct eye contact with his parents, who are standing only metres away from you. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me, okay?” You say, feeling the adrenaline intensify as he walks with Dylan in his arms away from the counter and towards you. 

“You’re not in trouble, okay. But I’m going to need you to let Dylan go, okay? Can you do that for me?” From the corner of your eye, you can see Hotch and the others by the car, guns in their hands, and ready for any possibility. 

It was like time went by slowly and you knew what would happen, so you act quickly. The unsub’s arm raised, gun in hand ready to shoot Dylan, and before you know it, you shoot the unsub purely by reflex. One wrong move, one inch to the right, and the child would’ve died. 

The unsub falls to the fall, blood pours from his arm as he yelps out in pain. A few medics run in - one takes the child and the others works on the unsub.  

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Emily hadn't spoken to you since you were at the motel earlier that morning. If it wasn’t obvious that she was mad, it was now. 

Her feet stomp as she walks into her apartment with you trailing not far behind her. She dumps her bags in the hallway with an exasperated sigh. You watch her cautiously, not wanting to say something that’ll annoy her even more. 

“Emily?”

She’s quiet. Hands press into the kitchen counter as she leans on them. She sighs and looks up at you before standing up right. 

“that was an incredibly stupid, what you did back there.” She scolds. 

“Emily...” you sigh. “I had no other choice. You and I both know Dylan would’ve survived if someone hadn’t intervened.”

“you could’ve killed him, [y/n]!” the way her voice raises at you makes you flinch slightly. 

“are you kidding me, right now? You would’ve done the same thing!”

“no I wouldn’t!” she retaliates, slamming her hand on the kitchen bench. 

“okay then, what would you have done, huh?”

“don’t do this,” the sigh that leaves her lips causes you to take a step back. 

“fine,” you raise your hands in surrender before grabbing your bags. “I’ll sleep at mine tonight.”

“[y/n]...” Emily sighs again, reaching for your hand. 

“no, Emily, it’s fine. I’d rather be alone than be scolded and yelled at for something that I had no other choice in. I know he would’ve got hurt, okay! But that was a risk I was willing to take, and look how it turned out!” you yell, finally letting all your pent up frustration out. 

“this job is about taking risks you don’t want to take. You, of all people, would know that. You’ve been doing this a whole lot longer than I have, so I expected you to understand.”

“[y/n], I'm just trying to protect you. If that boy had gotten hurt because of that impulse move you pulled, I know you’re the type of person who won't forgive themself. 

Your fingers circle your temples as the headache grow stronger. 

“I'm sorry for yelling at you, I just-”

“no it’s fine. I get it,” your tone is sharp as you hold back on rolling your eyes. “Look, I think we're both just tired and it’s not helping, so I’m gonna sleep at mine tonight and we can talk in the morning.”

“okay,” Emily’s voice softens as she walks you out, feeling guilty for everything she said. 

Though both of you have stubborn personalities, you still love her, but god does it does it get on your nerves. 

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:• ☾ ☼ ☽ •:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•

requests are open!

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[angelswithcigarettes]

“A new connection”

Summary: Spencer's father comes back into his life.

Series: The journey of finding a home [Part 4]

Series Summary: With getting Spencer on the team, Gideon gets him out of the hands of his abusive Father. He knows his team are the right people to show him the kindness of this world but even if he was supposed to be one of the greatest profiler ever seen he didn't expect Morgan to be the one that puts the most effort into it.

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Past Child Abuse, Emotional/ Psychological Abuse

Relevant Tags: Autistic Spencer Reid

Word Count: 8579

Chapters: 6/6

First Chapter:

[I advice you to read the other parts first]

If there is something Spencer loves when it comes to Morgan touching him it is when they lay in bed and he takes his finger and gently moves them over his cheeks, mostly with his knuckles and moves sometimes around his face and Morgan adores how Spencer will first giggle and the eventually relax, maybe humming slightly.

"I want to -" Spencer stops himself and then opens his eyes and dares to lock Morgan in the eyes for a second and then looks at the ceiling again.

In the beginning this would make Morgan insecure but by now he is used to him looking past him. Or on the floor. Or ceiling. More on the floor than on the ceiling.

There are rare occasions were he looks him directly in the eyes.

"Can we go get ice cake from the café down at the - at the park? At the park with Clooney?"

"Of course."

"All of the things?"

"All of the things." Morgan could break out in tears out of pride caused by Spencer asking to do things or for things.

When he first met him, Spencer would just not ask for anything. If no one would offer he would just go the whole day without food or water.

Gideon had told him that Spencer on many occasions fainted in the academy because he over did himself with physical exercises or got to caught up in reading the manuals.

Seeing him sitting on the grass, with Clooney laying next to him putting his head on Spencer's legs while he sits crossed legged, he can not understand how he could have let himself get so insecure about this relationship based on the option of people who have meet him for a few hours.

Morgan tears his attention away for a second chatting with a women next to him waiting for her order too while Spencer gets approached by a man causing Spencer to put an arm around the dog.

"I thought I recognised you." The man says looking down on Spencer. "Who is that friend of yours?"

"Clooney" Anxious but also feeling comfort in the familiar warm of his father's face.

"Can I pet him?"

"Yes" William reaches down wanting to pat him but the dogs starts barking causing the man to stand up straight again and to catch Morgan's attention.

"Excuse me, I will be right back."

"Oh he is a violent one." William says with a smile a little bit surprised by the reaction.

"He isn't." Spencer holds the leash. "Morgan will calm him down."

"Morgan?" The man turns around, seeing Morgan approaching them. Not running but also not walking like he has much time. "Is he here with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, listen buddy I have to go."

"You can meet him!"

"No don't tell him I was here. I was a stranger asking about your dog." And as fast as he was there he was gone again and Morgan was there in front of him, talking to him but not making any sense and Clooney is there. Clooney is there. Clooney is putting pressure on his stomach. He likes that.

"There you go, pretty boy." He is sitting in Morgan's lap now. "That's good, look at you, breathing like the genius you are." He tries cheering him up, his fingers just like this morning running up and down his cheek and Clooney nudges Spencer's hands. "I think someone wants cuddles."

"A stranger asked about my dog."

"He is a cute dog what can I say?"

"A stranger asked about my dog."

"I know, it's nothing to be embarrassed about that that didn't went well."

"A stranger asked about my dog."

"Clooney is fine, come on" Morgan takes Spencer's hand and places it on Clooney's head. "I am sure he just wanted to know something about him."

"My friend."

"Absolutely"

"My friend."

"And what did he do? He protected you nobody will touch you when he is there." Morgan jokes even though its actually true.

He has heard about dogs being sensitive but he always thought people exaggerate to integrate their dogs into their family, but whenever they are out outside of their job, Spencer takes the dog with him and if he gets overwhelmed he will sit down with him or play with the leash.

What Morgan finds the most heartwarming is when he hears Spencer talking to him, full on monologues about everything. About cases, about the team, about his newest hyper fixation, about Morgan when he thinks he isn't around and even sometimes about his family.

The amount of information Morgan got from just standing around the corner is something he is not proud of.

"I am sorry - I just wanted to let you guys now that the lady in the stand put your order in the freezer you can pick it up whenever you are ready. Or I can bring it to you." The women Morgan talked to before he saw Clooney barking at the man offers kindly after approaching them.

"Thank you for telling us." Morgan waits until the women is gone. "You want some cake?" Shyly Spencer nods and ensures Morgan he can be left alone if Clooney stays.

What neither of them expected was that the moment he turns his back around William starts approaching him again and then hands him a business card. "Call me okay?"

He is gone again before Morgan can even get the cake. He isn't suspicious at what happened, interacting with strangers, especially men that are older in physically advanced in comparison to him, does often not end well if no one he knows is with him.

Morgan would go as far as to say he worked out a pattern.

Women are fine unless they are in their fifties and have reddish hair, he assumed that someone this age with this specific hair color at some point in any way harmed him.

Men his age and younger are usually fine unless they are wearing a blue uniform which is unfortunate on the job.

What never plays out are men in their late fortys already having light hair or gray hair just like the man or slightly younger man with brown hair.

Which is a problem because Hotch fits this criteria but its better than in the beginning.

Will went through that too, but they are pretty sure it was the name that caused the panic.

There are a few things that Morgan avoids wearing as well.

For starters grey suits, they tried it multiple times, not working out. It took quite some time to realize that.

Secondly a different cologne. Spencer takes immense comfort in familiar smells, and if Morgan smells different he tends to get a little bit unsettled.

Change in general is not something he appreciates.

In other people it just doesn't fit him but he knows that he is not allowed to be rude because of it and he really tries not to. But he also doesn't understand why he is not allowed to be honest, JJ had cut her hair short a few ago and Spencer had, after she asks what he thinks, told her that she doesn't look as pretty as before and thanks to the aftermath of her pregnancy she just started crying.

He got overwhelmed trying to comfort her because that wasn't what he wanted to do. He awkwardly told her that it will grow back and that people who haven't met her doesn't know that she looked better before and he really tried his best but was just making it worse.

Emily stepped quickly in and sat down with him and not in an offensive way asked why he would say something like this and then proceeded to make it more clear to him by asking him how he would feel if someone said that to him.

When Spencer in the evening prompted how he likes "that there isn't much you can change with your hair" towards Morgan because "people don't know what they want when they ask for an opinion on their hair" he maybe couldn't hold back a laughter.

What Morgan did not in any way put in consideration is his reaction to him shortening Clooney's hair for the summer because when he picked Spencer up from Rossi's in the evening he did not like it at all and it took a long time of him crying and Morgan patiently waiting for him to welcome the dog and Rossi got reminded of the time Spencer lived at his mansion and when almost everything would send him over the edge.

"Here is the ice cake we so well deserve." Having a day off is not something they are used too and for a long time not something Spencer liked and just ignored by coming in with Gideon who never took a day off.

"A stranger came over and asked about my dog."

"I know" Morgan leans down kissing him on the cheek and then hands him his plate.

He improved a lot. Both of them. Spencer in speaking and Morgan in understanding but there are still many things that go missing.

"A stranger came over and asked about my dog."

"What have you got there?" Morgan asks pointing at the cards he holds in his fist.

"What have you got there? A stranger came and asked about my dog." Sceptical Morgan takes the card out of his hand and reads the ingredients.

"A stranger? Are you serious right now?"

"A stranger came and asked about my dog."

"Yeah I don't think so." Morgan holds the card up in front of him. "William Reid? Doesn't sound like a stranger to me."

More chapters:

#criminal minds #spencer reid #derek morgan #ao3 author #aaron hotchner #moreid #criminal minds fanfiction #david rossi #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #cm #penelope garcia #derek morgan x spencer reid #autistic spencer reid

[batrachised]

just reread the curious case of walter blythe................ i trust you with my blorboy. any other thoughts on him?

(referring to this post - highly recommend digging into the reblogs as well because there was a lot of interesting discussion!)

Thoughts on Walter Blythe? Do I have thoughts on Walter Blythe? My home-boy, my rotten soldier, my sweet cheese, my good-time boy? He's hard to analyze because the tears make it difficult to see the screen to type, but I will assuredly try my best.

Gah, it's hard to know even where to begin with Walter. Walter is difficult to poke at it in one sense, because (as I read somewhere once), he's more of an emblem than an actual character. He repeatedly represents WWI in the text, and WWI's impact on his generation. Like Emily, he seems to have a connection to a "second sight" of sorts, but unlike Emily, this isn't in your local neighborhood witch way - it's in a 'terminal and aware of it' way (to borrow the phrase from gogandmagog). Both Rainbow Valley and Ingleside mark him for death; a rather abrupt shift from the sunny childhood tone of the novels. What's more, this sometimes comes from Walter himself. In Rainbow Valley, he's the one to say they'll follow the Pied Piper, while also being the one to sense the horror flickering underneath the idea. In Ingleside, we have the shadow of his cross over his bed, breaking the placement of the story for a moment; it pops forward to a future Anne, looking back and wondering if that were an omen in her grief (a chilling vignette in an otherwise idyllic, literal 'tucking children into bed' scene). Then, of course, there's this poppy passage I'll never stop thinking about:

"Look at that wave of poppies breaking against the garden wall, Miss Cornelia. Susan and I are very proud of our poppies this year, though we hadn't a single thing to do with them. Walter spilt a packet of seed there by accident in the spring and this is the result. Every year we have some delightful surprise like that." "I'm partial to poppies," said Miss Cornelia, "though they don't last long." "They have only a day to live," admitted Anne, "but how imperially, how gorgeous they live it! Isn't that better than being a stiff horrible zinnia that lasts practically for ever?"

As posted before, it's a subtle foreshadowing of Walter's short life, while also referencing his fate - poppies are its enduring symbol of WWI.

So, in the midst of this repeated foreshadowings, we have actual child Walter. Extremely sensitive, bullied, a misfit, a misfit to the point that he doesn't even look like his family (a hop out of kin, as the book says), and someone who is ruled by fear yet has a iron moral backbone. He hates violence in all forms, and yet can savagely beat another child when called for. He's implied to have a gift for poetry that's exceptional, the same gift that leads to derision and confusion from everyone around him. He's asexual in the text, as the article I cite in the original post would say, never displaying an interest in women (besides one person suspecting he liked Faith) in a way unlike every other LM Montgomery hero. He's very earnest - see this passage from Ingleside, which is probably one of my favorites from LM Montgomery, just look at our helpful boy:

"Did you hear what happened to Big Jim MacAllister last Saturday night in Milt Cooper's store at the Harbour Head?" asked Mrs. Simon, thinking it time somebody introduced a more cheerful topic than ghosts and jiltings. "He had got into the habit of setting on the stove all summer. But Saturday night was cold and Milt had lit a fire. So when poor Big Jim sat down...well, he scorched his..." Mrs. Simon would not say what he had scorched but she patted a portion of her anatomy silently. "His bottom," said Walter gravely, poking his head through the creeper screen. He honestly thought that Mrs. Simon could not remember the right word. An appalled silence descended on the quilters. Had Walter Blythe been there all the time?

Then we have adult Walter, whose character focus has been tightened to the war entirely. Walter's arc as an adult is facing his fear of violence, but also, of himself - of not being good enough. Walter has been looked down his entire life for who he is, including by his loved ones (both Gilbert and Susan imply or explicitly state disapproval of Walter at different points, although Gilbert's is very understandable in context). Wrapped into this has to be the self-knowledge of what he was like fighting Dan Reese, and knowing that he'll be expected-encouraged-required to tap into that part of himself. It's a pressure cooker situation, with societal pressure, moral pressure, moral censure, and self-censure all thudding down on him at once.

And Walter goes, and Walter dies. His arc as the "other" is complete; his poem and letter to Rilla speak to a hope for the future; he even sees his death as a mercy, because he couldn't have lived after the things that he'd seen. Jem will come back to work as a surgeon and marry Nan; Nan will wed Jerry; Rilla be a mother and wife to Ken -- Walter will forever be "Somewhere in France."

A grim ending, but LM Montgomery is deliberate in highlighting its hope. Walter writes of the poets of the future, and his death is understood to be both a pointless tragedy and a necessary, noble sacrifice.

What interests me is how this changes in the TBAQ. This book...it's raw. It's just raw. There are notably moments when the importance of Walter's death is emphasized, and this importance is intertwined with a steady hope - see the following line from Gilbert...

...but repeatedly, it's raw grief. Walter's siblings rarely refer to him dying; instead, they describe it unsteadily as "when he went away." Anne especially - the main character of the series, a cultural cornerstone synonymous with optimism and joy - is a far cry from how we've seen her before. It's repeatedly mentioned that Anne has not been the same since Walter's death, and whenever we hear Anne speak after the war in this book, it's almost always--if not always--something downcast and hopeless. It's her children and her husband who are the ones trying to comfort and find meaning; Anne herself is broken. The book reflects the themes of Walter's arc in Rilla - his noble sacrifice, the violence of his passing, its inevitability as deemed by the text - but it is also a blunt, uncushioned statement that Walter's death left a wound that will never be healed. Unlike with other major character deaths in the Anne series - Matthew, Joyce, eventually Marilla - there is no acceptance here. Anne of Ingleside mentions how Anne still mourns Joyce, but that's one beat of many in her life filled with babies and laughter. Here, Anne's grief is the only one. Everything we learn about her in this book indicates that Anne is not okay, and will never be okay again. It's a picture of a woman so deeply sunken in her grief it becomes her primary characteristic. She finishes Walter's unfinished poems, she reads them aloud to her family, she is disconsolate in every paragraph, and the book ends with her finding a poem of Walter's he wrote on the front where he imagines viciously bayonetting a teen soldier to death, resulting in her saying she was happy Walter had never come back.

I'm getting offtrack from the subject of Walter here, but the point of these very rambling paragraphs is that Walter's inherent textual purpose is to illustrate the horrors of WWI. Normally, LM Montgomery's strength lies in the slice of life approach that deftly handles the reality of life's bittersweetness. With Walter's fate, it's just bitter. There's no uplifting message, or character growth--the characters are crushed (at least in TBAQ, vs in Rilla, where its tied to the defeat of evil and Rilla's arc as mentioned above).

This inherent purpose is impossible to separate from Walter, or at least very difficult [trust me, as someone who is writing a fanfic on a no wwi walter]. What would a Walter who survived WWI been like? Would he have been transformed into a darker version of Dean Priest? What about a Walter who never went to war at all? Would he have married Una? Would he have married at all? Was part of his tragedy realizing the reality of romance (ala Anne in Anne of Avonlea) too late, quite literally the night of his death? How would that play out if he had survived? If WWI had never happened at all? Would he have been a famous poet? Or was this only achievable through war and his Piper poem? WWI is the fabric of Walter's character, and so answering these questions - while definitely possible and reasonable - can turn into a bit of a guessing game. The implication in Walter's tragedy - in this sense, tragedy meaning what he himself lost with his death - is that he never achieved his dream of being a poet, and he never married Una/didn't see her until it was too late. This provides us with the implication of what his life would have been like if he had survived, but the war also serves as his mechanism for achieving them. Walter becomes a famous poet because of the war, and realizes his [??????] for Una only once he realizes his death is inevitable.

Then, as seen in the post you brought up, Walter's intended character arc inadvertently doubles as an unintended character arc of his sexuality. A lot of Walter's "terminal and aware of it" characteristics double as signals for the potential truth of his sexual identity. I think this is seen most sharply in the short story from TBAQ where Patrick, also unlike other boys, also censured by society, says he loves Walter with all his heart - meant to pair them due to their brushes with death, but the secondary reading here is inescapable. [i recognize they're related, but this was the time of cousin marriages so]

This post has become a sprawling behemoth, but it visually demonstrates my overall point: I think Walter Blythe is one of the richest and most complex characters LM Montgomery wrote. It's fun to tease out the other characters' beliefs and habits and depth, but Walter is a universe of implication and tragedy. There are endless questions to be asked here: what did Gilbert think of Walter, as almost polar opposites? How did their relationship change as Walter grew into a man? What about Walter's nephew, who is said to also love poetry? What sort of relationship would they have had if Walter had survived? How do you grow up dealing with censure from all sides? How do you grow up dealing with censure from all sides, and with a popular and well-liked older brother who is everything you are not? The war serves as a christening of Walter's courage and therefore his masculinity - how would Walter's struggles with his perceived masculinity have played out had the war never happened? Would it have taken international success for him to gain respect? What if he never did? How would Walter's capacity for savage violence have played a role in his life, if it all? Why is Walter so capable of savage violence compared to his siblings? If Walter had survived, would this part of him become more prominent? On the flip side, Walter is extremely sensitive to ugliness and violence - how would this impact his life if the war had never happened, because life inevitably brings this everyone's way?

Most importantly of all, can Walter as an emblem be separated from the thing he is the emblem of? What do you do with a symbol that loses its meaning?

In the end, Walter's character has the unavoidable tension of a tragic figure for the reader. His story compels us because of its end, and yet wanting to change the end is what compels us. Separating Walter Blythe from his death in the text is nearly impossible- but also irresistible.

#walter blythe #lm montgomery #this is very train of thought so apologies if you wanted something cohesive friend #and yes I did tear up #“somewhere in France” just GETS me

[dontshootmespence]

Through It All

Part 14

Summary: Now married, Spencer & Y/N navigate the D/s lifestyle. How will their relationship change?

Words: 1,966

Warnings: Lactation kink, fingering, nipping.

A/N: My next entry for @cm-kinkbingo​ run by my beautiful girlfriend @heycasbutt​. This fulfills my lactation kink square.

In the warm sunlight streaming through your window, you can feel Spencer’s arm fitting snugly around your waist, holding you close. As you begin to stir, you realize he’s already awake too. Since it’s a weekend day, you have no plans, aside from taking care of the adorable time-vampire that is Charlotte Magnolia Reid. “So what are we doing today, handsome?” You mumble, the words barely decipherable to your own ears.

Spencer kisses the back of your hair before nuzzling his nose into the side of your neck. It tickles and sends you into a fit of laughter that ends up with you laying on top of him. “We aren’t doing anything,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “But you are.”

“What?”

Is it mom brain fog? Have you forgotten something you had planned?

When Spencer clocks your quizzical look, he laughs. “I have a surprise for you. You have to be ready by 11 AM.”

Spencer playfully smacks your ass when you get up before following you to the bathroom, where you get in one of your rare shower quickies. And Charlotte hasn’t woken up yet! Rejoice! She’s not sleeping through the night just yet, but she’s down to only waking up once or occasionally twice.

While you dry your hair, Spencer gets Charlotte, who finally begins to stir. They pass the bathroom and you sneak a kiss to your baby’s cheek. “I’ll be right there for feeding!” You cry out from the tiled walls.

“There’s a bottle left in the refrigerator, I got it!”

Since you have no idea where you’ll be going, you put on minimal makeup and then walk outside to where Spencer’s feeding Charlotte on the couch, talking to her about the people passing by on the street below - making up stories about them. “Babe, I don’t know where I’m going so what do I wear?”

“Wear one of my graphic tees and your most comfortable pair of leggings.”

With your instructions, you slip into your bedroom and get dressed. Spencer’s shirt is a tad too tight considering the girls are still big, but it’s good enough and the next few hours pass without any major incidents aside from a bit of spit up on Spencer’s pajama shirt.

As you’re rocking Charlotte to a mid-morning nap, there’s a knock at the door. “I’ve got it,” Spencer replies when he sees you go to get up.

Emily, Tara, Penelope and JJ are plowing inside in a matter of seconds, cooing over ‘little baby genius Reid.’ “Good god,” Tara says softly. “She’s so beautiful. How do you two not stare at her every second of every day?”

Sometimes it’s difficult, with her soft brown hair like her father’s and big beautiful eyes the same color as yours. “Well, some days, we do exactly that, and other days she doesn’t want to sleep or she’s sick and driving me crazy, so then I normally see the inside of the pillow into which I’m screaming,” you say quickly, flashing them a cheesy grin.

JJ snorts. It’s been a while, but she remembers the feeling well. “Did Spence tell you what we’re doing today?”

Shaking your head, you glance toward where Spencer’s standing in the kitchen, gathering ingredients together that seem to be for tonight’s dinner. “Paint and wine class,” he says proudly. “After I saw you painting Charlotte’s nursery, I knew it had to be done eventually.”

“Aww, you’re so romantic, I love you.” You swoon and run to kiss him, blushing as the girls ooh and ahh over Spencer’s sweet gesture. He’s your everything in every way. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

Spencer takes her from your arms and looks down to talk to her, shaking her little hand with his fingers. “We’ll be okay, right? You won’t kill me?”

Laughing, you grab your purse off the counter and give him another kiss before leaving with the girls. It’s been ages.

--

Thankfully, Dr. Obel cleared you a while ago for the occasional cup of coffee or glass of wine, despite still breastfeeding, so you nurse the hell out of a glass of red at the painting party. Besides you, Emily, Tara, JJ and Penelope, there are four other women there that know each other and are much less animated. In other circumstances, you might feel bad about being so loud and laughing like a maniac, but you haven’t had a girls’ day out in months, so fuck it.

At these classes, they always have someone teaching and a specific painting is chosen ahead of time. After a while of listening to the instructor, you paint what she’s painting, but at your speed and adding little flourishes here and there. While most of the ladies have basic paintings (because admittedly they’d rather be drinking than painting), you end up with something you’re really happy with.

Shadowed pine trees sit on a moonlit lake, stars, trees and the moon alike mirrored in the lake’s surface in a myriad of colors. Bob Ross is one of your biggest influences when it comes to painting, and by the end, it feels like you’ve done him proud. “Damn, Y/N!” Emily says, taking the last sip of her third (and last) glass of wine. “Spencer said you could paint, but that’s fucking spectacular!”

All the ladies, and even the instructor, praise your work. At first, you deny it and tell them it’s not all that, but eventually you allow yourself the praise. Something you’re working on. “Ladies, this was amazing. Can we make this like an every other month thing? Every third month?”

“Hell, yea,” Penelope says, quickly picking up one of the hors d'oeuvres and shoving it into her mouth. “Man, thith iz gud.”

“Sewiously, I ‘eed the recipe,” Tara replies with her mouth equally full.

The subway ride back to your apartment is filled with random girl talk and lots of baby talk. Everyone wants to know Charlotte’s milestones and to see every single picture you’ve ever taken, which is already a lot given she’s less than a year.

Upstairs, you all walk in just as Charlotte needs a diaper change. When Emily and Tara offer to take dirty diaper detail, you just smile and sink into the couch. You’re not about to argue with just a little extra time off mom duty.

“Well, this was amazing,” JJ says, running her finger down Charlotte’s cheek. “You guys need anything? All set on food and stuff?”

“Yea, JJ,” Spencer replies. “We’re all good. For now.”

Once the ladies leave, you gather Charlotte close to your chest and lift your shirt. The time away refueled your batteries and you sigh happily when she begins to eat.

“Have a good time?” Spencer asks. You point back to the painting which is propped against the wall near the door. “That’s beautiful!”

“Thanks, babe. And thanks for the surprise. It was really nice to have a girls’ day.”

Spencer’s hand sits around your shoulder, his fingers slipping delicately into your hair. “I’m glad you had a good time. I have my girls right here.”

“Did you two fare okay?”

He nods and you both sit in silence for a moment. You lean into him, content and relaxed. The peaceful atmosphere allows your mind to wander and when you mind wanders, it tends to walk into dirty territory; today is no different. “Hey, Spence, I have what might seem like a weird question.”

“Shoot.”

“Have you ever thought about you know, maybe doing that wonderful thing you do with your hands while getting a firsthand taste of breast milk?”

Immediately, his pants tighten. “I hate the fact that it has been a consistent thought since your  boobs grew, yea. Definitely thought about it. Like I don’t wanna sit here and have you feed me or anything, but like...a little taste? Yea.”

“Wanna maybe give it a go later?”

A smile is all the answer you need.

---

Later that night, once Charlotte is finally asleep, you and Spencer practically trip into your bedroom, peeling off clothing like you’re in a nudist colony.

Spencer groans appreciatively when you jump into his arms and peel off your shirt and bra. He carries you toward the bed and plops you down onto the mattress unceremoniously, laughing as he wriggles you out of your leggings.

When he descends upon you, eyes hungry and hands frenzied, your smile fades into a lust-filled gaze that has Spencer nipping at your neck and chin and lips. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he mumbles against you, honeyed voice running deliciously up your spine. For a moment you get in your head; you don’t feel gorgeous as of late, still a ways away from your pre-baby body, but Spencer snuffs that thought out of your head. “Stop thinking and feel.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slithers his way down your body and licks a stripe up your slit with a flattened tongue, moaning at your taste before slipping two fingers into your sodden pussy. “So wet for me already?”

“Always for you, Sir.”

Spreading your legs with his hands, he crawls back up, nipping and biting and sucking at any and every patch of skin that pleases him. And all you have to do is lay back and enjoy it and he calls you his good girl.

When he latches onto your nipple, the tug on your breast is similar but the feeling is altogether different. The way he rolls his tongue over your nipple causes you to arch into him, gathering his hair in your hand and pushing him closer. Every time he nips at your nipples, bringing them to taut peaks, it shoots straight to your core and you buck into his hand. “So wet, Sir.”

“Does this get you off, love?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Excuse you,” he says, immediately stilling his fingers.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“Because it feels wrong. Taboo.”

“And that gets you off?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“My dirty girl.”

Switching from nipple to nipple, never leaving one untouched for too long, his fingers stroke at that sensitive spot inside you. You buck down into his hand and reach between you, slipping your hands into his pants to stroke softly at his hardening cock. “Come for me, Y/N,” he breathes, his palm sitting heavily on your clit. “I want you to come for me.”

His words ignite a fire inside you, white hot light bursting before your eyes as he latches onto your nipple one last time. “Fuck, Sir,” you laugh shakily, stroking his cock harder and faster. “Now, come for me. I need to see you.”

Spencer bites down on your lower lip and pulls away, hissing through clenched teeth as his orgasm starts to roll over him. “That’s it, baby. Harder. Keep going.”

All you can hear over the sound of your movements, wet and slick and rough, is the rolling growl that leaves Spencer’s mouth when he comes in your hand and over both your stomachs. “Shit.”

“Have fun?”

“Yes,” he laughs, exhaustedly collapsing at your side. “You feeling okay? You were getting in your head for a second. I could feel it.”

“Yea, still having body issues. But I’m working on it.”

“I have an exercise for you to do. Not physical,” he says quickly. “A self love one. Every morning when we get up, I want you to look in the mirror and say one thing you like about yourself. You can start with things that aren’t physical and then work up to physical.”

A sleepy, content smile spreads across your face. This is the dynamic you always wanted - someone you could rely on in every single way. Even at your lowest, your craziest, your most overwhelmed, Spencer is there for you, telling you how beautiful you are as you drift off in his arms.

@heycasbutt @ultrarebelheart @katherineisagubler @proud-slytherin-ghost @randomwriter23 @fandom-queen67 @sixx-sic-sixx @xqueenofthecraziesx @aofay02 @groovyreid @criesinreid @jdougl-love @xreider @cringeemospntrashassbutt @prettyboyeffect @prettyboyreid @themanip @spencerreidsthings @augustgraceful @whollytaciturn @prisonreid @factualfic @jasmine-negron @snitchthewitch @ellabobella051419 @crazyforsstuff @kaatelyyynn​ @jane-dough @dreatine @bitter-post-millennial @adlerorzel-blog @hallieedrew @psychedelephantt @krisymccall996 @4ueijos @mclaujac @ray-likes-starwars @nurseemilyblog @slightlyvicked @she4567 @guesswhosback129 @princessdolan @happycreatorfangirl @fallwhisper @nyemadowell @sammy-jo1977 @sin-bin-and-tragedies @imsuperawkward @ahhahahaheehee @crispygiantsaladgarden @reputay-swift @pizzarollsfordayz @andiebeaword @timey-wimey-lovi @garbagecanfics @friedparadisetale @dereksbetaa @idontevenknow2 @holyfishloverfarm @nohemi2500 @typeshitbih @sadgirlhan @kmc217 @bigbuttsowhatuniverse @charmedfandomgal @im--blushing @dangerouspersonllamabagel @fichoe21 @yes-sir-hotchner @thefandomallrounder @mrsenos08 @walkerchick007 @letsdisneythings @winchesterqueenie @specialagentleigh @spn-wheresthepie @haileymew @bitchyoulied @geniusgub @urdicksmol @6lack6erry @slutlanna976 @downondilaudid​ @baileysb1tch @la-vie-en-amour1​ @letsdoit-tomorrow @eideticprettyboydrreid​ @lazynoodledragon​ @shybaby231 @aimzonicles97​ @grace-superpowers​ @softestlavender​ @ssa-dr-ladylock​ @drprettyboy​ @patricks-fabulous-face​ @tearosaria​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @marvels-gurl​ 

#through it all #the most natural thing in the world #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #dontshootmespence

[laurawritesandgames]

A Day Late, Sorry!

Title: Reefer Madness

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Beetlejuice/Adam/Barbara, mention of Charles/Delia

Prompt: Parenting

Content Warning: Set during coronavirus pandemic, underage drug use

Summary: When Lydia is caught smoking pot, the Maitland-Deetz household has to come up with a punishment. But how do you discipline a teen during a pandemic? And will Beetlejuice even let the parents (and ghostly parental figures) punish his BFF? 

The door to the Maitland-Deetz home opened. Lydia came in, wearing her mask and gloves, with Beetlejuice hovering beside her.

Barbara stopped mixing cookie dough to say hello. “How did it go?” The Maitland-Deetz adults had agonized about letting Lydia go to a class picnic organized by Claire Brewster’s mother during a pandemic.

Claire’s mother had tried to make the picnic as safe as possible. She and a few other parents were chaperones, everyone was required to test negative for coronavirus before showing up, the picnic was outdoors, everyone was expected to wear a mask and socially distance, and Winter River High’s Grade 10 class was only 20 kids. Charles had gone with Lydia to a few Black Lives Matter protests, and those had had many more people than this picnic.

Lydia had been so bored of quarantine that she’d actually wanted to engage with her classmates, which had been the deciding factor.

“It went well.” Lydia threw her disposable mask and gloves into the trash bin by the door. “It was nice to see everyone.”

Beetlejuice’s smell of rotting flesh was worse than usual. Barbara winced, waving her hand in front of her face. “Can you turn it down, please?”

“Turn what down?” Beetlejuice said too innocently.

“Anyway,” Lydia said, walking up the stairs, “my introvert battery is drained. I need to recharge.”

Beetlejuice followed her. “And I need the hot goss!”

Barbara let the two friends have their time together, though she was a little disappointed she hadn’t gotten more out of Lydia. That’s teenagers, I guess. I’ll try again later.

As Lydia washed her hands, Delia’s voice sounded in the hallway upstairs. Lydia responded back. Barbara returned to the kitchen, and had just picked up the mixing bowl when Delia’s shocked “Lydia Lilith Deetz!” rang through the house.

Barbara teleported up to the second floor of the house to see Delia and Lydia glaring at each other in the hallway with Beetlejuice floating beside Lydia. Adam teleported up a moment later.

“Young lady,” Delia said, “I can’t believe you. Smoking weed? Really? I thought you were smarter than that.”

Weed? Barbara sniffed the air, but couldn’t smell anything beyond Beetlejuice’s stink.

“It’s faint, but it’s there,” Delia insisted. She patted her faintly bulging stomach. “I have smell sensitivity, thanks to the child. And I have certainly smelled enough weed in my day!”

Lydia opened her mouth, closed it, then shrugged. “So what? Weed’s legal in tons of countries except for most of this fascist dictatorship.”

“What?” Barbara blurted out as Adam gasped.

“Where pot is legal, it’s legal for adults over 25,” Delia said. “You’re 16! Your mind is still developing.”

“Because you never, ever did pot when you were my age, Delia.”

“And it’s hardly something I’m proud of! Years from now, do you want to be looking for your underwear after a night with a drummer from a Duran Duran cover band? This is how it starts!”

Lydia snorted while Beetlejuice said, “I mean, if the drummer’s hot, yeah, sign me up.” He paused. “Who am I kidding? The drummer doesn’t even need to be that hot.”

Adam frowned at Beetlejuice. “And you’re covering for Lydia. When did you find out about this?”

Beetlejuice glanced at Lydia, who shrugged and gestured him forward. “Lyds flagged me down when she got near the house.”

“And you helped her cover this up without a second thought.”

“’Course I did! Oh nooooo, a teen did some weed. Who cares?”

“You’re the adult in this situation—”

Beetlejuice floated backward, gasping and clutching his chest. “You take that back, sir! I am not!” He paused. “Well, not an adult like you mean it.” Anxious, he bobbed in front of Lydia. “I’m a cool adult. Right, kid?”

“Totally.” There was a faint sarcastic edge to her voice, but he didn’t appear to catch it.

“You all heard her say it!” Beetlejuice said proudly.

A terrible thought occurred to Barbara. “You didn’t share the joint, did you?”

Lydia looked hurt. “I’m not risking coronavirus to get high!” Reluctantly, she added, “We each had our own joint.”

“And who brought them?” Adam asked.

“A goat-footed man offered them to us for the price of signing our name in his book. He said he would visit us again on the dark of the moon to complete his dark pact.” She smirked. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“Lydia….” Delia said.

“Or maybe we found them on the ground and smoked them like the reckless teens that we are. I can’t remember.”

“Where is this attitude coming from?” Barbara asked. “This isn’t like you.”

Lydia glared at her, so angry that Barbara almost took a step back. “’Not like me’? We met four months ago! You don’t even know me. At least this one,” she jabbed a finger at Delia, “was supposed to be my life coach, so Daddy filled her in on the basics. Not that she ever bothered to get to know me, either.”

Beetlejuice laughed. “Aw, man, she burned you guys so good.”

“We’re going to talk with your father,” Delia said, “and come up with your punishment.”

Barbara was touched that she’d included Barbara and Adam.

Lydia laughed coldly. “Good luck getting Daddy to punish his little girl.” She strode confidently over to her room and closed the door.

“I’m gonna grab Lyds some chips,” Beetlejuice said. “She’s probably got the munchies!”

“You know,” Barbara said, “you could stay and—”

“Deuces, nerds!” He teleported away. A few moments later, his voice sounded in Lydia’s room along with the crinkling of a plastic bag.

Disappointing but not surprising. When Beetlejuice returned from the Netherworld, he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in parenting Lydia or any Deetz children that came along.

As they walked downstairs to Charles’s office, Delia said, “My parents never punished me for anything in my life. They let me drink and smoke as long as I was in the basement, where they could keep an eye on me.”

“I went to some parties and stayed out past curfew in Grade 12,” Barbara said. “Mom and Dad grounded me. This one,” she nodded to Adam, “never saw a punishment in his life.”

“That’s not true, honey,” Adam said. “One time, I was doing math homework and I looked up my answers in the back of the textbook. I confessed an hour later and got extra chores for the rest of the week.” He looked thoughtful. “Grounding Lydia seems pretty redundant. Unless someone else holds another picnic, it probably won’t come up. The living are all stuck inside anyway.”

Delia sighed. “I know! And we can’t take away her phone. It’s her lifeline to the outside world! I don’t want to affect her mental health.” She bit her lower lip and stopped walking. “Perhaps we should let this go. She’s still healing from losing Emily. And no way am I going to be the evil stepmother! If Charles punishes her, she’ll probably blame me!” She glanced anxiously between Adam and Barbara.

“We won’t let her do that,” Barbara said. “We’ll be a united front.”

“Using marijuana recreationally is illegal,” Adam said. “I know not all of us agree with that law,” he nodded to Delia, “but it is the law, and she deliberately broke it. She could’ve been arrested! It’s our duty to show her there are consequences for her actions.”

“As soon as we figure out what those consequences are,” Barbara said. “You know, I read a parenting blog that said parents could ask their older teens to suggest their own punishments. Maybe she’ll come up with a good one.”

Delia rubbed her temples. The pregnancy was taking a lot out of her; she was tired and achey most of the time. “Well...let’s go see what Charles thinks.”

She knocked on the door to his office. After a few moments, Charles opened it. Seeing the looks on their faces, he frowned. “What did the demon do this time?”

“Surprisingly,” Barbara said, “he’s not the problem. It’s Lydia.”

*

Charles took charge immediately. After explaining his plan and getting everyone’s agreement, he asked to see Lydia in the living room.

Lydia came downstairs and Beetlejuice phased through the floor to hover by her side. While Beetlejuice slouched and scowled at everyone, Lydia looked totally confident. She didn’t blush or frown as she faced her entire family.

When Barbara had come home from Miranda’s party, she’d frozen and stammered when she’d seen her father in the living room. I wonder what Dad felt when I stayed out past curfew? Did he expect something like this? Was he grateful I wasn’t coming home drunk? I wish I’d asked him. She’d never know, now. It stung, but she had more important things to focus on.

Like whatever chaos Beetlejuice had in mind. He wasn’t going to take his best friend getting punished without a fight.

“Lydia,” Charles said, “Delia, Adam and Barbara told me what happened at the picnic. You smoked marijuana, breaking both a law and a house rule. I want to see a 5,000-word essay on my desk by the end of the week about the effects of marijuana on a young person’s development. This essay must be the same quality as one you’d do for school. Use the Chicago Manual of Style for reference and citations.”

Lydia chuckled. “You can’t be serious.”

“We’ll just plagiarize it anyway!” Beetlejuice said.

“I can Google an essay just as well as you can,” Charles said, unperturbed. “I’ll be sure to check that your work is your own.”

Her eyes narrowed. “It was just one joint, Daddy. It’s not a big deal. I’m not going to become the school drug dealer or anything—if we’re even going back to school in the fall.”

“Delia, the Maitlands and I disagree. We think it is a big deal. And since you live in our house, you have to follow our rules.”

Beetlejuice turned to Lydia. “Kid, I can get us out of this house anytime you want with a snap of my fingers.”

“And go where, Beej?” Lydia crossed her arms over her stomach. “I know you’re trying, but c’mon. It’s a global pandemic.”

Beetlejuice’s spiky hair deflated a little bit. “Oh, right.”

Charles took a step toward his daughter. More gently, he said, “Lydia, I’m not insensible that you’re facing more stress than anything I ever felt at your age. First, Emily died, then the pandemic happened, and now quarantine…. Not to mention the changes that have happened to our family.” Lydia’s gaze flicked to Delia’s stomach. “If you want to talk about what led you to make this decision, we’d all welcome that.”

Beetlejuice scoffed. “Why she did it? To be a badass!” He held out his fist for a fistbump. Lydia didn’t reciprocate, but watched her father thoughtfully instead. Good. Barbara began to relax. That means she’s listening.

“If you don’t want to talk to us,” Adam said, “we can increase your therapy sessions to two times a week.”

“I’m sick of journaling and breathing exercises!” Lydia snapped. “Nothing works! Even that stupid joint didn’t! I’ve been stuck inside for months because of a pandemic our country’s leaders are too chickenshit to deal with. I’m a privileged beneficiary of a racist, capitalist system that’s destroying the world. And I’ve literally seen what’s on the other side. Nothing gets better. This life is all we get, and it’s shit.”

She stepped closer to her father, her eyes never leaving his face. “And now, I have to do a stupid essay because I did something I thought would make it all bearable for one fucking minute!”

Her family had to do more for her. Lydia had taken antidepressants for months on the advice of her doctor—perhaps she needed her dose readjusted. If this therapist wasn’t helping, they’d find another. Adam and I could make an activity schedule to give her day some more structure, so it’s not just scrolling through social media. And Beetlejuice can probably think of lots of fun things to do—well, fun and slightly terrifying things, but Lydia loves that kind of stuff.

Charles reached out for a hug, but Lydia stepped back, hands out to push him away if he tried.

“Oh, Lydia, sweetheart, I know things are tough right now—” Barbara began.

“Mom wouldn’t do this to me!”

Charles recoiled slightly, his arms dropping.

Even Lydia seemed surprised that she’d said that, but she quickly added, “Mom wouldn’t have punished me for one joint. She would’ve understood me. She would’ve cared. And you know it.”

Charles raised his eyebrows. “Lydia, you’ve built Emily up in your mind as this creative, anarchic madwoman, and she certainly was. But do you seriously think she would be unconcerned if you started doing drugs? We had countless conversations about how to parent you, particularly in those final months when we knew…we knew she wouldn’t be around. This is the punishment we worked out together.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. This is literally what she would have wanted me to do.”

Lydia stared at her father. Her chin began quivering as tears welled up in her eyes. Barbara almost teleported to her, but stopped. Is it my place? I’m just the ghost parent, not her real one….

At some point, Beetlejuice had floated over to her and Adam. He was watching Lydia and Charles intently, as if looking for something.

Lydia sniffled, swallowed, then said, “Fine, I’ll do your dumbass essay.”

“What? C’mon, kid!” Beetlejuice gestured to Charles. “Don’t give in to The Man!”

Lydia gave him a small smile. “Not everyone has the energy of an undead demon, Beej.” She tossed her hair. “Besides, Dad, all the research that’s out there says pot should be legalized for recreational use, anyway.”

“Not for 16-year-olds.”

“We’ll see.” She turned around and went upstairs.

“Bet you loved that, fascists,” Beetlejuice said to the parents and parental figures. But Beetlejuice usually got over things quickly as long as they didn’t directly involve him, so it wasn’t surprising when he slung his arms over Barbara and Adam’s shoulders and smirked. “Babs, Sexy, if you wanna make out to forget your guilt that you made Lydia hate you, you where know I be.”

Lydia stopped halfway up the stairs. “‘Hate you’? God, BJ, you’re so dramatic. I don’t hate them. They’re completely overreacting, but they’re just being parents. It’s their job.”

That threw him—he blinked at her a few moments, then shrugged. “So it wasn’t my best pickup line. Instead of criticizing my game, go…I dunno, cry about your dead mom some more.”

“Beetlejuice!”

At least Lydia didn’t appear hurt. She rolled her eyes and raised her middle finger at Beetlejuice before going upstairs.

Charles huffed. “I think the next thing we’re going to work on is crude language and gestures. I’ve been quite lax about that and someone—” he eyed Beetlejuice “—has been a bad influence.”

“We should also not joke about people’s traumas, Bug,” Adam said.

Beetlejuice grunted. To Barbara’s surprise, he didn’t say ‘She started it!’ He was legitimately thinking about something.

Delia sat down on the living room couch, sighing in exhaustion. “Well! We got through it. Huzzah, everyone!” She glanced at Beetlejuice. “Except you,” she said coolly.

“Things got pretty tense there,” Adam said. “It’s lucky I don’t have a body, or I might have had a small panic attack.”

“Most of the thanks goes to Charles,” Barbara said.

“I was happy to take the lead on this one. I have the most experience, after all. Unfortunately, this is hardly the first time I’ve had to discipline her. She’s not always the most attentive to her studies.”

“Really?” Adam asked. “But she’s so intelligent.”

“Which means she doesn’t always feel challenged, so she puts off her homework and assumes she can complete it the evening before it’s due.”

“Wow, I had no idea.” Barbara had pictured Lydia as a young woman much like Adam, eager to learn and devoted to school. Lydia is right. We don’t know each other that well.

“Do you think we should talk to her psychiatrist again?” Barbara asked.

Charles nodded. “I was thinking that, as well.”

Beetlejuice poofed away in the puff of smoke as the parenting talk continued. Remembering his unusual thoughtfulness, Barbara resolved to speak to him later.

*

Beetlejuice appeared as if summoned when, an hour later, Barbara pulled her chocolate chip cookies out of the oven.

“Ooo! They’re all goopy!” Beetlejuice snagged one, and didn’t seem to mind that it was hot.

“We got some news on where the weed came from,” Barbara said as he ate. “Claire’s mom called Charles during our meeting. Near the end of the picnic, five of the kids said they wanted to check out the empty school. Lydia was one of them. They disappeared from view for around 10 minutes. The chaperones figured they just wanted to get out of cleaning duty, and nobody thought much of it because the party was wrapping up. Claire’s mom apologized over and over again. I don’t think she’s going to be hosting any more class picnics. Poor woman. We still don’t know who brought the drugs, though.

“Er, I hate to ask, but…it wasn’t you, right?” Beetlejuice was quite casual about drug use, and Lydia could talk him into anything.

Beetlejuice didn’t mind being suspected of providing drugs to children. Maybe to a demon, that was a mark of pride? “I was watching Farscape with Adam during the picnic. I only teleported away when I heard Lyds say my name.” He could always hear the living say it, for some reason.

“The person watching Farscape could’ve been a clone, though.”

“Ooo, now you’re thinking like a demon, babe! But for real—no way would I bring joints for some teens and not for myself. Am I really that generous?”

“You’re right. Sorry, I just had to make sure.”

He winked at her. “I wouldn’t trust me either, baby.” He bit into his third cookie.

“You seemed caught off guard earlier when Lydia said she didn’t hate us. What was that about?”

He shrugged. “Just trying to make myself fart to break the tension.”

“Well, I know that’s a fib. You’re always able to fart.”

He stopped chewing, thought for a moment, swallowed, then said, “Eh…guess I’m just not used to kids and parents not hating each other.”

She touched his free hand. When he didn’t pull away, she wrapped her fingers around it. “That’s awful.”

“That’s life. And the afterlife, I guess, since Ma was there too.” He frowned. The hand she was holding twitched, like he wanted to start fiddling with something like he always did when he was upset or anxious. “Whatever. I killed her with a sandworm, the scene ended on my hilarious joke, and the audience got a happy ending. It all worked out.”

“If you want to talk some more about your mother, Bug—”

“Why, so I can cry about my dead mom, like Lyds? Sing a song about it? Not my brand, babes. I don’t even think about Mom.” He focused very intently on the cookies on the baking tray as he said, “I think about you and Sexy and Lyds, sometimes Chuck and Delia. You’re the people I care about, not that bi—sorry, sorry, that was gonna be a gendered slur, but I caught myself.”

“I’m proud of you.” Barbara leaned over and kissed his cheek.

He grinned. “You know, I don’t think I hear that enough from you guys. I could kill so many people, and I never do. A little more ‘good job, Beetlejuice!’ would be nice.”

“We’ll try.” She kissed his lips. As she pulled back, he leaned closer and kept the kiss going. Then a goopy finger brushed her nose, leaving a trail of warmth down it.

Beetlejuice pulled away, chuckling. “You look like you ate poop.”

She rolled her eyes (was she picking that up from Lydia?) and wiped the melted chocolate off her nose. Beetlejuice hadn’t used the kiss as an excuse to grab all the cookies on the tray, which was surprising.

Not that Beetlejuice was done with the cookies. He grabbed two more then floated out of her reach.

“Do you mind if I tell Adam about this conversation?” she asked. Adam, Barbara and Beetlejuice hadn’t been in a polyamorous relationship long; Barbara wanted boundaries to be extra clear to avoid hurt feelings and miscommunication.

“Girl, you know I love when people talk about me.”

“Even stuff about your mother, which might be a little more complicated than you’re pretending it is?”

“Or maybe it’s not complicated at all? I’m a simple guy, babes.”

“You do like to say that, yes.”

“But, eh, don’t tell Sexy all the crap I said about kids and parents and shit. He’ll just wanna talk. Bleh. Pretend I was always my normal awesome self.”

“Hey, Bug,” she said lightly, “I think opening up to someone you care about is pretty awesome. So, to me, you were always your normal awesome self.”

“Dork.” But he was smiling as he poofed away.

When the cookies cooled, she put two on a plate, poured a glass of milk, and went upstairs.

She checked in on Adam next. She’d left him reading in their bedroom, but now he was staring out the window at the cemetery.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said.

“Hi.” He didn’t turn around.

“Do you want to go visit them?” That cemetery held his parents’ graves. They’d died in a car crash coming home from a Christmas party five years ago.

He nodded. “I know we can’t stay for long because of the sandworms, but just for a few minutes….”

“When Lydia’s done her essay, maybe she could come, too. She’s mentioned wanting to have a solo picnic in the graveyard sometime.”

“That’d be nice. I hope Mom and Dad approved of how we handled Lydia. They probably would’ve liked a good prayer circle, but the Deetzes aren’t that kind of family.” He sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “They were good people, in their way. They knew farm life wasn’t for me, and they never made me feel bad about choosing my own path.”

“Your family was so welcoming when we started dating.”

He chuckled, smiling at her over his shoulder. “Most of that was shock, I think. They bent over backwards because they knew you were too good for me.”

They’d told this joke at parties before. Barbara laughed dutifully. “Your mom never gossiped. You’ve lived here your whole life—you know how rare that is. Most people just can’t wait to spill the beans. But I could tell her anything.”

Adam’s smile dropped. “I couldn’t.”

His parents had probably been part of the reason he hadn’t come out as bisexual until after his death. Barbara set the plate and glass down and joined him at the window, resting her hand on his shoulder.

“I have no idea what I’m going to tell them when we find them in the Netherworld,” Adam said. “’Hi, Mom and Dad, here’s my wife and my boyfriend. I have an open marriage now! I’ve slept with a man who’s not actually a man! He’s a demon.’”

“Well, saying it all at once is a bit much,” she said lightly. “You might need to lead up to it.”

A smile twitched the corners of his lips before he sighed and stared out the window again.

She rubbed at his shoulder, tense under her hand. “We have time to figure it out. We’re not going anywhere for a while. And maybe their perspective will have shifted in all those years in the Netherworld?”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t worry about it. And maybe the fact that we sort of have a child now means they’ll overlook a few sins.”

No, we live with a child. She’s not ours in any way. Barbara said, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

Adam turned away from the window and looked at her, concerned.

*

Barbara and Adam approached Lydia’s room 20 minutes later. Lydia’s door stood out against the pale gray wall; she’d had her door wallpapered to make it look like a dingy, cobwebbed hallway with a mysterious figure at the end of it. Barbara knocked; Lydia groaned.

Opening the door, Lydia looked unenthused. “Is this the real punishment—everyone coming to check up on me?” The cookies didn’t even elicit a smile, though she took them with a curt, “Thank you.” She waved them in. “Shut the door, take a seat. Let’s get this over with.”

Her room was messier than Barbara would’ve preferred, with socks everywhere and a pile of folded laundry still in its hamper. Lydia set the cookies and milk down next to a new pile of books on her nightstand. There were already bookmarks in The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness and Yes You Can! Your Guide to Becoming an Activist. Lydia had been ordering books from local bookstores like crazy during the pandemic.

“You missed Delia.” Lydia half-sat, half-fell onto her bed, bouncing a little. “‘Peep these stones, girl! They’ll unblock your chakras because they’re fire. But they’re actually stones.’ I got her out of here by hissing some words in Klingon over her stomach. She thought I was cursing her unborn child—it was great! And, no.” She swung her legs up to stretch out. “That doesn’t mean I hate the fetus. They can’t help being incubated in the world’s worst person. So you can tell Beetlejuice that, if he’ll listen to you. He thinks he knows me so well.” She chuckled. “He only thinks that because he thinks I’m a human version of him. Everything’s a Mommy-or-Daddy issue with that guy.”

She laced her hands behind her head. Her black dress blended in with her black duvet cover and the rooms black walls, making the pale white skin of her face stand out sharply. “And, of course, Daddy dearest came by. Did we cry a bit over my dead mother? I plead the fifth.” She looked at Barbara and Adam, waving a hand. “Speak! Impart to me your undead wisdom. Cure this troubled child of her afflictions.”

Barbara and Adam had worked on what they were going to say, but it took a few moments to absorb everything Lydia had just said. She’d be good in theatre. Maybe we could look into Zoom classes….

Adam sucked in a breath. “Lydia, we’ve been talking about what you said to Barbara earlier today. About how we’ve only known each other for a few months.”

Lydia’s eyebrows twitched up. “Oh…kay?”

Barbara spoke next. “You’re completely right. We don’t actually know you. And once I realized that, I realized it was presumptuous of us to join in with your father and stepmother while they were disciplining you today. It made me think about how we joined this family in the first place. You agreed to let us stay, and we’ll always be grateful. But you also agreed after a very traumatic experience, and none of us really knew what it meant to share our lives together, living and dead.

“We all sort of fell into these roles after Beetlejuice left. We became like your second set of parents. We’ve been calling you our adopted child and everything. But…well, you’re not. And you already have a father and a stepmother.”

Lydia sat up on her bed, facing the ghosts, her jaw tense. “You’re—you’re not leaving, right? For the Netherworld?” She swallowed, gaze darting between the two of them.

Adam shook his head. “Of course not, Lydia,” he said gently. “Our boyfriend hates that place, for one thing. And we want to be here for you and the new baby.” He nodded to Barbara to continue.

“But,” Barbara said, “that doesn’t mean we need to be in your life as parents. We could just be two roommates. We could chat over dinner, watch TV together, maybe bake something once in a while. But if you don’t want us to be, we don’t need to be so involved in how you’re raised. That’s Charles’s and Delia’s job.”

Lydia was clutching her fingers together tightly. “I never even bothered to ask—did you want kids while you were alive?”

“We did…theoretically,” Adam said. “That’s the next step in the life plan once you own a home, right? Some of our friends had four kids already. But in practice, we had a lot of fears holding us back. If we’d been braver….” He looked away, sighing, before he looked back at her. “But we weren’t, and we can’t change that now.”

“Or we might have had a child and hated it,” Barbara added. “Who’s to say?” She patted Adam’s hand. “It’s a bit of a complicated topic for us. You’re a child, Lydia. You shouldn’t have to carry a dead couple’s wishes and regrets.”

Lydia’s gaze dropped to her hands, still gripping each other on her lap. It wasn’t an easy thing they were asking. Barbara gave her silence and space to think.

“You’re not who I want,” Lydia said, looking up at them. “I’ll always want my mother. I apologize for the bluntness, but Mom always made friends with the elephant in the room, and I’m my mother’s daughter.”

“Of course, sweetie—ah, Lydia.” Barbara cleared her throat. “It’s only natural.”

“But you two…. You made me feel normal even when I was so alone.” Her voice was getting quieter and quieter. “You always listened to me talk about her. And you’re…you’re part of the reason I came back from the Netherworld.”

Barbara chuckled softly. “You’re the reason we stayed in the world of the living, originally. We had to defeat Beetlejuice and keep you safe. But that doesn’t mean we need to act as a second set of parents. I’m not sure that’s fair to you.

“Lydia, we don’t have to decide anything right now. We can talk about this tomorrow, or a week from now, or a month.”

Lydia’s dark gaze locked on Barbara. Her eyes shone with tears under a heavy frown. “You probably don’t even want me as a daughter,” she spat. “You probably dreamed of some little girl in pretty pink dresses who played with dolls instead of skulls. I’m too complicated, too messy. But you don’t want to say it. That’s not nice, and you two are nothing but nice. Just stop being cowards! Make it easy on us!”

“Oh, Lydia, honey….” Barbara couldn’t stop herself from reaching out to her. She held Lydia as the girl’s tears started falling. Adam sat down on Lydia’s other side, stroking her back. She rested her head on Barbara’s shoulder.

“I love you guys,” Lydia whispered thickly.

“And here I go,” Barbara said as she started crying, too. “We love you too, sweetie.”

“We would’ve been honoured to have a daughter like you,” Adam said, tearing up. He hovered the Kleenex box over to them, so they could wipe their eyes and noses without breaking the hug.

“I am so fucking sick of crying,” Lydia grumbled as she dabbed her nose.

Barbara wiped her eyes. “Language.”

“Right. Daddy said he wanted to tackle that next.” She smiled. “I’m sorry you got a daughter at this intemperate age, Maitlands. I was a real peach when I was four.”

“You’re perfect,” Barbara assured her. “You make bad decisions sometimes, but you’re perfect.”

Lydia’s eyeroll was somewhat undercut by the fresh batch of tears.

Adam commented, “I guess we’ll need to work on a parenting schedule with Charles and Delia. See what we can figure out.” Adam sounded cheerful at the thought. He always loved making plans.

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “You’re dating Beetlejuice, but you still love rules and order. You’re a mystery, Adam Maitland. In fact,” she sniffled again, “we’re all mysteries to each other. That’s what started this conversation, isn’t it?

“So, hello, Maitlands. My name’s Lydia Deetz.”

“Hi, Lydia. I’m Barbara Maitland.”

It was time for the Maitlands to get to know their daughter.

#beetlelandsweek2020 #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice x adam x barbara #charles x delia #adam maitland #barbara maitland #lydia deetz

[yayeetsonny]

"I really have 3 moms huh?" Baby R/Christen, Kelly, and Becky

Prompt: "Can you do one with Kelley, Becky, Christen being protective of the reader (since she’s the youngest and also in both teams with them) and acting like her team mom’s?"

This is for @super-market-sun-flowers

I'm so sorry that I've taken forever to get this out I just wanted it to be good haha. hopefully you like it!

-Minor swearing

Y/N PRO//

I finally was able to head back to the locker room after a grueling game against the Portland Thorns. We won the game 2- 1. I was so proud of the team and I was proud of how I played but I was in some serious pain because Midge Purce had fouled me in the 85th minute and when she did she clipped my ankle. I got up and walked it off and was able to play the remainder of the game. I did my best to hide the pain I was in because my "moms" Becky, Kelly, and Christen would totally flip if they knew. See I'm the youngest player on the Utah Royals FC and USWNT, at age 17 and being 4'11 doesn't help much either. Those three in particular baby me a lot. It's very sweet but sometimes it's a little much. 

As I was taking off my cleats I noticed my ankle was a little purple and swollen. Uh oh, Midge got me good.

"Shit." I mumbled, wincing when I went to move it.

"Oh my god. You need ice on that little one." Christen said startling me by her sudden appearance.

"H-hey Christen, it's really not a big deal. I'm okay."

"Then why are you grimacing and looking close to tears?"

"My allergies."

"You don't have any."

"Do too."

"Do not."

"Yes I do."

"No you don't.- okay since we're going in circles I'll just call Becky and Kelly over and see what they want to do."

"Woah wait that's not necessary. Shouldn't I be able to decide what to do about my injury?."

"No. You never take care of yourself when you're hurt or sick and you're the most stubborn person I know."

"I'll make sure I don't exert myself I promise!"

"I don't believe you even a little bit." She said crossing her arms and giving me a look.

"Okay, okay whatever get the other two involved I don't care anymore." I said exasperated

"Kelly, Becky come over here for a sec please."

"Hey what's up?"

"What's up CP?"

"Our kid is hurt and she doesn't want to ice her ankle and thinks that she can take a care of herself."

"I'm 17 years old! I turn 18 in like 4 months!" I said indignantly

"Sush. Let us help you babe. You're hurt."

"I'm fine guys seriously. it's nothing. Look we have camp in a week and I really don't want to jeopardize my chances by making this a bigger deal that it is."

"It'll be an even bigger deal if you don't take care of it properly and over do it at camp. Please just cooperate and ice your ankle." Christen said softly yet sternly. She's always been softer and gentler with me than the others but she has her moments too. Kelly and Becky nodded their heads in agreement.

"Ugh okayyy." I said. They all laughed at my dramatics as Kelly ruffled my hair. Kelly and Christen then proceeded to help me to the bus while Becky carried our things. Once there they insisted on having me sit in the back with my feet on Becky's lap elevating my foot. All of them fussing over me and arguing over what was the right way to ice an ankle.

"Kelly I swear if you hurt her more jostling her foot like that I'll make you hurt." Christen threatened

"Chill Chris I got it." She said

"No you don't you're hurting her."

"Stop being so uptight."

"She's my kid."

"She's my kid too. She's our kid." Kelly said looking a little hurt.

"You're right, I'm sorry Kel."

"They finally were able to agree on the way my foot was wrapped with the ice and let me be. Given it was only after Becky threatened to not let either of them take care of me if they didn't get it together. The look she gave then would have made a grown ass man afraid.

3 hours later//

The girls definitely were pushing it with the whole babying thing, they insisted on carrying me everywhere after we got back to the apartment we shared.

"Chris you can put me down! I can walk." I said, and I know what you're thinking but she's definitely stronger than she looks. She was carrying me to the couch after I woke up from a nap that she insisted on me taking because according to her I was "grumpy"

"No bubs you could hurt yourself more just let me help you. I just want you to be safe."

"I know Chris and I am, with you I always will be." I said laying my head in the crook of her neck.

I know I said them babying me and acting like over protective moms 24/7 was a little much but sometimes it really does make me feel all warm inside. Kelly and Becky had gone out to get food for all of us and would be back any minute.

Suddenly the door burst open and Kelly came barreling in "we're home losers!!"

"Kelly chill, Chris could've dropped our kid." Becky said having noticed that we jumped when they entered.

"Oh, oops my bad."

"Sometimes I feel like Christen and I have 2 kids instead of 1." Becky said rolling her eyes in amusement.

"Hey! I resent that!" Kelly said

"Oh come on Kel, she's only joking."

"I still resent it." She mumbled.

"Okay well let's eat before the food gets cold." Becky said patting Kelly on the back as she continued to pout.

"What's for dinner?" I asked

"Sandwiches from the deli around the corner."

"Oh yes, Antonio's! That place has the best hot sandwiches!" I said eagerly as I attempted to wiggle free from Christen's grip.

"Okay Christen seriously let me down please."

"We just talked about this baby, I'll put you on the couch that's it."

"I'm not a baby!"

"You're acting like it."

"Am not!" I whined

"Point proven." She said giving me a knowing look.

"Listen we love you and you're our kid whether you love it or not. We all know you at least like it 9/10 when we baby you. We're always gonna want what's best for you. Please let us take care of you until we know for sure your ankle is better." Becky said

"Okay, I'm sorry guys I just still have trouble getting used to having people who care about me so much. Sometimes I get a little overwhelmed by all the love you guys give me 24/7. I really do appreciate it and love you guys so much." I said getting all sappy.

"Awww you love us!" Kelly said running over and crushing Christen and I in a hug.

"Yeah, yeah. Can we eat now please?" I said

"Oh right, almost forgot." Becky chuckled

1 week later//

Becky, Christen, Kelly and I arrived at camp and met the rest of the team in the meeting room. After going over the plan for the day we were released to do some team bonding.

"Hey Y/N I missed you!" I heard someone say before I was startled by Emily Sonnett jumping on my back. I was able to catch her legs at the last second so she didn't fall but I rolled my already sensitive ankle as I tried to regain my footing.

"Shit, shit, shit." I said as Emily realized something was wrong as she climbed off of me.

"Oh man I'm sorry Y/N. I didn't hurt you did I?" She said looking slightly scared. All of the players on the USWNT, even some of the newest ones knew who my "moms" were and knew that they'd do anything to protect me, even going as far as getting in people's faces sometimes.

"I just lost my footing and rolled my ankle a little no big." I said trying to shake it off.

"You sure? Do you want me to get Christen?" She asked knowing I was closest with her.

"No, no it's all good. Just try not to surprise me anymore." I said smiling at her softly as I walked away.

"Hey kid, you good?" Ashyln said as I walked passed her

"Yeah, yeah all good." I said as I tried to rush away. My ankle was doing much better but still sensitive and was just getting back to 100% I argued with myself on what to do because it really hurt and I was beginning to panic. I knew my moms would be upset if they knew I had hurt it again after we just got here and I- wait, I called them my moms. Huh I didn't even notice. Do I say it out loud too? Does it weird them out? Oh my god wait what if they think it's weird I mean I know they think I'm their "kid" but I've never called them moms out loud before. I began to get lost in thought and was really starting to panic about everything, so much so I didn't even realize I ran right into Christen.

"Ouch" I landed on my butt after running right into her back. She turned around from talking to Tobin and Julie.

"Woah, hey there bubs. You okay?"

"Y/N?"

"Huh? Oh yeah I'm good. Sorry I just wasn't paying attention to where I was going." I said refusing to make eye contact, my ankle was killing me

She crouched down so she could look at me and softly grabbed my chin tilting my head up so I'd look at her. "Hey, What's wrong."

"Nothing."

"I know you too well to know when you're lying."

"I'm not lying it's nothing, just drop it." I said frustrated

"Woah drop the attitude please."

"I'm sorry, just forget it please."

"Y/N..." she said in a warning tone along with giving me the look

"Okay fine, I may have twisted my ankle when Sonnett jumped on me when she came to say hi." I said hesitantly as I scooted away.

"Well there it is, gotta go bye!" I said attempting to get up and get away before she went into full mama Press mode.

"Uh uh. Don't move, Kelly! Becky!" Christen yelled across the room.

"Oh man." I said laying back and face palming

"Uh oh short stack you gotta help sonnett before Chris, Kelly and Becky kill her." Tobin said in amusement.

Julie just rolled her eyes and said "why am I friends with you guys?"

"Oh shut up, we work together and you love us." Tobin said

"She's right dude you can't get enough of us." I said smugly.

"Woah CP, what's going on?" Kelly said rushing over to us as she saw the look on Chris's face.

"Where's Becky?"

"She's coming over right now what's going on? Is everything okay?"

"No."

"Chris will you please relax I'm okay." I said trying to get her to settle down before she went off.

"No stay out of this." She said not looking at me.

"This is literally about me! Come on don't make this a big thing."

"Hush before I-" she didn't get to finish because Becky came rushing over much in the same way as Kelly.

"Woah hey everyone take a breath, let's calm down. Will someone please tell me what this is about?"

"Sonnett hurt our kid!"

"No she didn't! I rolled my ankle when she tried to jump on my back! It's not a big deal I'm fine!" I said aggravated.

"She shouldn't have done that!" Christen said angrily. Becky, Kelly, Julie and Tobin were just looking back and forth as we argued.

"I can take care of myself! Just please don't hurt sonnett it was an accident and she didn't mean to. She even apologized even though it wasn't necessary."

"What she did was reckless and she could have seriously hurt you and herself!"

"Oh my god will you stop being so dramatic?! It's. Not. A. Big. Deal." I was getting increasingly frustrated as the argument went on.

"Oh I'm sorry, I guess you don't care about your safety or anyone else's then?" Chris said raising her eyebrow daring me to say something else.

"I do I just... Chris will you please talk to me about this, without yelling?" I said softly, finally relenting.

"I just want to protect my baby." Chris mumbled helping me up and pulling me against her chest. She ran her hands through my hair and kissed me on the forehead.

"I know Christen, I'll always feel safe and be safe with you protecting me. I already told you that. It won't ever change."

"Get ice on your ankle please. Elevate it and make sure that if you need anything at all you tell Becky or Kel okay baby? I'll tell dawn about your ankle so she can decide what to do."

"Yes mama." I said taking myself and everyone around us by surprise.

"I- I mean, yes Chris. I'll get on that. Where are you going?"

"Well, Sonnett and I need to have a chat so I'll see you later okay?" She said trying to mask the surprised look on her face.

"Don't kill my best friend please."

"Don't worry I just want to make sure she knows not to be so reckless next time."

"Okay..."

"Julie Tobin watch out for Em please." I whispered as Kelly carried me away.

"You got it kid." They said in sync

"Come on babe let's get you that ice."

30 minutes later//

"How you feelin kid?" Alex said as she sat next to me on the couch after finishing a game of monopoly deal with Tobs.

"I'm fine I guess it just blows my ankle is back at square one."

"Aw yeah that sucks, but it's not too severe right? So you'll be able to play with us and everything in a few days."

"You're right I'm just glad this camp is a pretty long one. I'll have a real chance to still show what I can do to the coaching staff."

"You're so talented. You have nothing to prove babe."

"Thanks Al that means a lot."

"Of course love. I love you."

"I love you too."

"You wanna play a game of speed?"

"You're on, just know I'm really good."

"Okay whatever you say Alex." I said chuckling

"What you don't believe me?"

"Maybe I do, maybe I don't."

"Oh it's on."

"Let's do it."

In the end Alex absolutely creamed me. But the plus side was that it wasn't just me she creamed, Crystal, Mal, Rose, and Sam had all joined in and it was amazing watching them lose just as badly as I did.

"Hey where's Chris?" I said suddenly realizing I hadn't seen her or Emily in over half an hour.

"Don't you mean mama?" Sam said teasing me as everyone else laughed

I blushed as I mumbled "that was an accident. Just forget it."

"Aw come on it was cute!"

"Yeah how come you don't call me and Becky mom or mama?" Kelly said appearing out of nowhere.

"Ahh! Geez you guys gotta stop doing that to me!"

"Aw I'm sorry kid. My bad."

"Seriously where's Chris? She didn't kill Emily did she? I told Julie and Tobin to watch out for her. What if-"

"Woah kid chill out, she's coming over right now."

"Hi bubs. You okay?"

"Yeah ma-Chris, I'm good. You and Em good?" I said catching my slip up. Everyone smirked at me knowingly while Chris gave me a curious look.

"Yeah we're good, you sure you're good?"

"Yeah." I said my voice cracking as I said it... dammit.

"Okay... uh hey guys can you give Y/N and I a minute I wanna talk to her about something." Everyone nodded and got up and went elsewhere, Sam patted me on the shoulder as she left.

"What's up Chris?"

"Are you sure you're okay? You're acting a little weird."

"Well, it's just that I know I slipped up twice now calling you mama and the girls were teasing me earlier and I'm sorry it probably weirds you out. I didn't mean to i swear, I'm so sorry please don't be mad, please don't hurt me I-"

"Woah hey, hey. Shhh calm down you're okay bubs. No ones going to hurt you, we would never. What's that all about? Look at me." Chris said holding my face so I'll look at her.

"I'm sorry I just don't want to weird you guys out. And uh, it's nothing forget I said that." Shit I really let that slip out, well that's a backstory for another time.

"You know I'm not going to do that baby, we'll talk about that later okay? You're okay I promise, there's nothing weird about it. We already see you as our kid. We love you more than you'll ever know and I'd be honored if you decided to keep calling me mama. I'm sure Kel and Beck would ecstatic to be called mom too." She said while rubbing my cheeks soothingly

"Can we finish this conversation with Becky and Kelly?" I asked timidly

"Of course Y/N. They won't mind."

"Kel, Becky can you come sit with us for a minute?"

"Yeah coming!"

"Absolutely!" They both came to sit with us, Becky on the other side of me and Kelly sat across from me.

"What's up kid?"

"Uhhh..."

"Y/N is worried that calling us her moms in a not joking manner will weird us out."

"Wait you really want to call us moms, like for real?"

"Well yeah i see you all as my mommies and I love you so much and wouldn't be anywhere without your love and support."

"I'd be honored."

"Me too."

"Wow really?"

"Of course, we really do love you kid."

"I love you too." I said almost beginning to cry.

"I really have 3 moms huh?"

"Yeah, you do."

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

-THE END

#becky sauerbrunn #christen press #kelly o'hara #utah royals #uswnt #x reader #baby reader #alex morgan #crystal dunn #ashyln harris #sam mewis #rose lavelle #mal pugh #tobin heath #julie ertz #uswnt imagines

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

The Violet Hour (Chop and Change, Part 2.)

Series descriprion: Twenty years ago, you’ve given a promise to a boy who claimed to imprint on you. Against your will, you decided to keep it and to visit La Push just to see if anything has changed.

Part summary: There are questions you shouldn't be asking, but the curiosity inside of you is larger than any reasonable gasp of reality.

A/N: I think we all know that Seth just downloaded the whole Eclipse and New Moon soundtrack on that fucking CD. All of us know it.

Warning: It’s highly recommended to read the Football Time miniseries first since this contains an unlike pairing which is explained in the series, also the circumstances are given there.

Word counter: 5 K

Tagging: @nemodoren​. @missdictatorme​

Spotify playlist:  ✨ Twilight Crackheads ✨

Series masterlist: H E R E

Your lips are nettles, your tongue is wine. Your laughter's liquid, but your body is pine...

The song was yelling over Jacob's workshop as you both worked on his motorbikes. The place was dirty as fuck, no denying there, but you could see why did he like it so much. What was more, it was fun to see a vampire quirkily dancing to a super old song as they searched for a screw in the fucking mess. - "I heard that you left on your own yesterday. From the gathering." - Jacob mumbled from looking into the body of the machine while you still danced around, handing him the screw.

"I didn't know your people are such gossips." - Was all you said as the song progressed to its chorus. Once the bridge was over, it almost appeared that you had some sort of a seizure, which was only showing how much you loved the song that was playing. - "And about the stares throughout the evening?" - Jacob sat up with a daring smile, making you stop dancing. - "What are you after? It was just a family evening to which I was dragged without my consent. Well... Technically I gave my consent, but you know what I mean." - "Seth couldn't keep his eyes off you. And from what I have gathered, you were the same. This doesn't sound nothing like what you've told me over the phone before you and Emmett came." - The man bit his bottom lip, making you sit down on an old crate of engine parts. - "One more suggestive word and I'll kick your fucking motorbike."

"You wouldn't do that, come on." - Jacob muttered out, but leaned back to the bike, trying to see what was wrong with it. As you sat there in silence for a moment, the topic you wanted to know about just crossed your mind once more. - "I want to ask about some... Things." - With that, you got up pretty dramatically to sit down next to Jacob to watch his hands doing... Something to the machine he was currently working on.

His workshop was like an antiquarian for a super-old motorbike he pulled out a car wrecker. Most of the models he had there weren't in making anymore, simply because they were harming the nature too much to be produced massively or they weren't selling as good as they were expected to. And Jacob had about twenty of those machines - thirteen of which were working. He even managed to get his hands on an old Harvey-Davidson, which could be surely perceived as a crown jewel of his collection. It was a nice hobby for sure, though it must've been a bit expensive one for someone like Jacob. It was Saturday, so he had a day off, but you heard he's working as a mechanic in Port Angeles. His income couldn't be the biggest, so you had a lot of respect for him for not giving up on such a hobby. - "Yes, the motorbike will break if someone like you kicks it if that's what you are interested in." - The man huffed from the work, making you snicker at his remark. - "Oh, fuck off." - You answered with clear sarcasm.

"Okay. Shoot and I'll do my best to answer you." - He said after a while and used your palm as a storage place for oily nuts he just pulled out of somewhere. Which was pretty disgusting to start with, but you just forced a smile. - "It's about the imprinting wolf thing." - At that, Jacob stopped and looked you dead in the eyes. - "You know, that's ironic. I was explaining the imprinting to a girl I liked... Right at this damn spot. Fuck, it feels as if it happened centuries ago." - Jacob snorted out and you, knowing you've just touched some kind of a sensitive spot, decided to push deeper. You wanted and needed to know more. Let's be honest, it would be a pretty cringe situation if you would have to ask Seth all of those questions without being suspicious.

"What's it about? Seth did explain it to me, but, let's be honest, it happened twenty years ago. And I'm not getting any younger than that," - "Listen - if it's about the thing that you hoped to walk in here and find him with a girl wrapped around his finger... Girl, that's not how this works." - Jacob sighed and leaned his back into the wall behind you. For a moment, you both watched Sakari and Emmett running around outside, presumably doing something with a kite. For starters, Emmett seemed to enjoy it way more than the small girl, but honestly, this was in Emmett's mental league, so no real wonder there either. - "Honestly, I think the only thing that didn't make him commit suicide was the promise that you'll come back one day." - Jacob muttered out in the end, gulping forcingly.

"What do you mean? Why would he..?" - "Imprinting isn't just falling in love, okay? It's something much crazier and more personal than that. Imprinting sends you off to fly in the clouds. When you're someone who imprints on another person, whoever or whatever they are, you can't live in peace until you know they feel the same for you. And trust me, he'll do anything just to make you smile. He'll do whatever you'd ask him to so you'd stay with him. Seth can be your friend, lover, partner, anything you would want just so you'd stay around. And, well, then there are the less happy endings of imprinting." - This was very uncomfortable for Jacob to talk about. It was solely because he saw what a broken imprintor can do to themselves. When you sat there in silence for another while, Jacob decided to continue with the story.

"After Leah, there was another shapeshifter called Brianna. She was one of Sam's daughters, she was born shortly after Cullens left Forks, and one summer, there was a pack of vampires just coming through the Olympic Peninsula. These dudes were cool, they didn't mean any harm and all they wanted was to travel through, to stay awhile, and hunt on our grounds. But as it always is, the more vampires gather around where the pack lives, the higher probability there is that the young kids start to change." - With genuine interest, you carried on with listening. There was a minimum number of vampires in the world that had ever formed a friendship with the shapeshifters, let alone ask them insider information about the way they live. Everything happening between you and Jacob at the moment was special. - "We knew girls can change after Leah, so we weren't as surprised when it happened to Bri. To be honest, Sam was proud of her. Emily was worried, but honestly, isn't that what mums do?" - Jake smiled at the memories, making you smile as well. - "Yeah." - You agreed, waiting for what will happen next.

"She imprinted into one of the guys who went to school with her, but to be honest, he was a douchebag. All the boys at their age act like assholes. And he didn't want to date her, it was just a dramatic heartbreak, that's what we all thought. Bri could wait a few years, trying it again. But we all thought that Bri can fight it, that she's smarter then harming herself because of a damn teenage boy who wasn't smart enough at the time. The girl was one hot-headed lady after all..." - With that, Jacob's smile started to fade away. At that moment, you finally realized what the story was about. - "She jumped under a train last summer. That girl was just eighteen." - The man said from working with the engine tank. Now you leaned your back into the wall, looking in front of yourself.

"Why did you tell me this?" - This was the only question you could think of. Jacob grinned into the motorbike and then glanced at you over his oily shoulder. - "Because you're going to visit Sam's tomorrow from what Emmett had said. So don't stare at the pictures. And you asked about imprinting. This is what it can do with a person." - With that, Jacob stood up and searched for small iron parts. You didn't know what these were called, but Jacob knew he needed them.

"If you think that he didn't try to forget, you're wrong, okay?" - He said all of a sudden, destroying the train of thoughts that was going through your head at the moment. - "There were girls, there were jobs, there was some traveling here and there... Seth ever borrowed one of my bikes to ride down the western coast. There were... Two girls who he even brought to introduce to the others, he introduced them to Leah and for some time, it seemed that it might work out. But if you would've seen them - the same hair, similar smiles, faces, eyes. It was over shortly after, every time. And as I said, I think the reason why he hadn't done anything similar to what Brianna has done is that on the back of his head he knew, that you'll come back one day. Honestly, I don't think he can do it again." - This was some honesty you expected from Jake. But it was still making you sick.

"All I'm saying is that this whole... Wolf stuff isn't fair to anyone." - You did get up as well, putting the nuts on one of the tables. - "He should be able to choose what he wants. There shouldn't be something inside his head telling him I'm the right choice. Because I'm not. Shouldn't he do this stuff with someone who can pass the genes on, or am I the dumb bitch here?" - That was a good question coming from your part. - "No-one said that anything regarding the imprinting is fair. And about your genes theory, Leah imprinted on a girl and Seth imprinted on a vampire. So it might not be about the kids after all. Now, let me ask you something." - With that, Jake walked right in front of you and looked you in the eyes. - "Look at me and tell me that you're not just scared that someone might be in love with you. Also don't skip the part where you make up all these reasonings just because you already decided not to give him a chance."

At that, your face got emotionless, yet as you tried to push the words out of your lips, you simply couldn't. Because in the end, Seth had adhered his part of the deal. He got older, he gave himself the time to mature and tried to live a life that would have meaning without you. What were you doing in the last twenty years? That's right. You were hiding in a cottage somewhere in the Canadian woods, terrified of the day you'll have to come back. Because that would also mean that you wouldn't have to be on your own anymore, which was a horrifying idea after four centuries of surviving alone. - "I thought so." - Jacob patted your shoulder as if you were a dog, which, to be honest, was kinda funny. With a burst of unbelievable laughter, you watch him joining Sakari and Emmett outside the workshop, leaving you alone inside to sort your thoughts out.

With a distressed giggle, you sat on one of the crates again. Nervously, you put one of the hands over your mouth, trying to pull yourself together. Dear fuck, you were nervous given by how much your fingers were shaking. That was a bold move from Jake, all the prompts to him. He had seen this self-destructive type of behavior before. Should it even surprise you? When you were on the road, Emmett sometimes told you some things from the past. And Jacob has been a self-inserted part of a love triangle between Bella, him, and Edward. Of course, Jacob has seen similar behavior. He might even do these things to himself. Or at least something similar.

"Hey! Where you're going? Did I say something wrong?" - Jacob called after you when he saw you picking your bag from the trunk of your car as you prepared yourself on your way to the Cullen residence. The small girl, as soon as she realized you're leaving, ran to you and hugged your waist. Whether it was to keep you there or a goodbye hug, you didn't know and honestly, you weren't in the mood to investigate any of that. - "No. And that's the problem." - Quickly, you leaned down to kiss the girl's forehead and to smile at her, ruffling her hair. - "I'll be in the house and on the phone if anything will happen, yeah?" - You looked at Emmett, making the girl step away from you. - "Tell Jean I'm saying hi." - And just like that, you were gone, running through the woods in La Push. You got lost quite a few times on your way, but in the end, you were walking on the road leading to Carlisle's nicest house.

The Cullens missed Forks and honestly, they weren't holding it inside. It was a beautiful house. One of the nicest you've been in. When you entered, it was all looking like it was looking before they had left. There was no dust, everything was shiny and looking as if the house was just built. From the habit, you started a fire in the fireplace, sitting on a couch to stare into it for hours. What else were you supposed to do? Go back to Jacob's? Good joke.

There was a lot of thinking you needed to get done.

Why was the idea of having someone taking care of you so scary? The sole thought of a relationship was freaking you out at that point. Dear Lord, there was something wrong with you, wasn't there? Carlisle and Esme were together for ages and both of them were barely arguing. There were exactly zero occasions on which you saw these two being angry with each other. If you got the concept of the whole... Imprinting idea, Seth was your match made in heaven or something like that. And by that logic, you were the same to him. And even though, you couldn't let it go.

In the evening, an hour after Emmett found you spaced out in front of the fireplace, you decided to call the poor boy. You obtained the phone number from Jacob, of course. - "Seth Clearwater on the phone? Hello?" - Dear Lord, he picked up almost immediately. Okay, you lettuce brain, don't you panic now. Be cool. - "It's Y/N here, hey." - You said while biting on your lip, cringing at the sound of your voice. If he couldn't tell how nervous you were, he had to be dumb, deaf, or both combined.

On the other side of the phone, you could hear as he picked himself from the bed and knocked something over because the crash was majestic. This made you giggle as you listened to it. - "Wow. How did you get my number? Is everything okay? I wanna say that I wouldn't suspect you to be the person to call me on the phone and..." - "Everyone's fine as far as I know, Seth. Stop freaking out." - Now, you were getting cocky and confident after hearing that he's probably going through worse panic than you were. - "I was just thinking about what you're doing tomorrow?"

"I don't know yet. What am I doing tomorrow?" - The man asked, praying to hear you say something similar to a date night, movie night, a walk, anything where you'd be alone. But all of this was crushed with one sentence alone. - "You're going to visit Sam with me and Emmett. Around lunch, Emily's counting with you." - Fuck. He wasn't going to Sam's because of his specific reasons that involved Brianna and what happened to her. Sue and Sam were keeping their eye on him ever since, which got old after some time. There were all the questions like 'are you okay?', 'how you're doing?' or 'do you want to talk about it?' which were... Sometimes they were too much for Seth to take in. He wasn't there since last November, which was almost a year at that point.

"I'm at work, unfortunately. I just realized, sorry..." - Oh, Jacob warned you about this excuse. And he also told you that you shouldn't buy it, because kindergartens were closed on Sunday, even in La Push. - "Good try, boy. I'll pick you up around eleven? Emmett can go on his own, he’s a big boy when he tries to." - This was a big step for you and honestly, you couldn't believe you're doing it. Willingly spending time with Seth... Alone and on your own... That was creeping you out. But as Jacob said, you should give a chance to real Seth instead of giving in to your need of being alone. For Seth, it was a chance for the man to be with you. So, against his better judgment...

"Okay. I'll be waiting." - After some chit chat, you wished him good night and let him go to sleep. The boy told you that right after he got home the day before, he went for a wolf walk. Because, of course, it was a wolf thing. He had to be tired, so without a question, you sent him to sleep.

Being a vampire was sometimes bad. It was bad when you couldn't go to sleep and you had to be with your thoughts alone at the times when normal people were sleeping. You had proximately eight hours to just stand around and to stare into the walls around. Fortunately, you had Emmett with you, who was gladly helping you to stay in motion. Around two in the morning, you set on a hunt for some juicy big animals. While you went for a deer, Emmett couldn't help his ego and went to take down a huge mountain lion. It was a funny show to watch, sure, but again, you had to dispose of both the bodies somewhere.

On the other hand, it took you six hours to just wander around the woods, looking for any animals you could find. Only three hours to go - which you gladly spent in the bath to feel warm for a moment. Hot water was always making you feel warmer. Alive if you will. It was a short time, but it was nice.

"I'm going, okay?" - You asked Emmett, who was watching some football game in the living room. The man turned his upper body at you, leaning his elbow into the back of the couch. - "We'll catch up at Sam and Emily's." - "Sure thing. Say hi to Romeo." - "Oh, you can do that yourself."

Suddenly, the ride to La Push was too short for your liking. Your mind was preoccupied with thoughts and what-if situations and you lost yourself to it so much, that you suddenly parked in front of the Clearwater house. Instead of just waiting around in the car, you turned the engine off, and quite ashamedly, you walked to the front door. You tried everything - knocking, ringing the bell, waiting around, then you called him... But Seth wasn't answering. For a moment, you considered just driving off to Sam's house. Seth will maybe arrive later. No. You knew Seth's in there - he had to be. The man knew you were going to pick him up. He wasn't the one to bail out, or that was your impression of him at least.

What were you about to do now? Should you just drive off back to Cullen's to meet up with Emmett? Or should you just go right to Sam's? But what if Seth wasn't doing so good? Suddenly, everything inside you turned on into an emergency mode. Couldn't shapeshifting be dangerous? Couldn't he break his leg, arm, couldn't he injure himself differently? Fuck. What if he fell from a cliff, what if he fell into the canyon he showed you last time? Maybe a rock fell on him... Or a tree. Maybe some unknown species of wasp had bitten him. You didn't know what can hurt humans in general; vampires sorta lost touch with it after some time. All of these scenarios were sure as hell borderline insane; yet you were just a normal vampire. How could you know what's lethal to people now, huh?

At that moment, you should've stopped yourself to take in a long breath and to calm down. Instead of calming down, your brain jumped straight to conclusions. According to your brain, Seth was most probably dead and the most logical thing which happened to him was that he was either crushed to death or that he fell to death.

There were these instincts that threw you into an immediate panic mode. Of course, there was a normal solution to all of this, it was a reasonable explanation that didn't include any death at all. And if you'd stopped yourself for a small moment, you'd realize that you're panicking over the wellbeing of a man, about whom you were saying that you don't like him. And this was a sign that you might like him back.

Fuck, there was the only thing coming to your mind. You had to see him with your own eyes. You had to see that he's alive and breathing. Jacob did a great job with freaking you out internally - Brianna's story made you aware of the possibility that Seth might've hurt himself. The thing was, there wasn't remorse about you might being the reason. You were horrified that you won't see him again and that you won't have a chance to talk to him. Fuck.

You felt quite like a stalker when you walked around the house, looking for an opened window to climb inside without breaking some glass. No problem, you'd pay for it if you'd have to - but what if you wouldn't find him there? What if he fell some high edge? You shouldn't feel like a stalker... Because you fucking were one.

What you were doing was wrong in so many ways, but you were worried about Seth too much to stop and think about it. When you found one crack in the window, you almost cheered up for yourself - you were more than happy to climb into the tight bathroom space. Once your feet touched the floor titles, you stopped for the last time. You could still climb out and leave the space.

But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?

Quietly, you walked through the small room. It was messy as hell, but it wasn't anything too stinky. There was no filth, but this man wasn't a best friend with the laundry machine, which could be seen from the t-shirts all over the floor. There was no intense wet dog stench in the air as one would expect, that was a plus as well. Just before you opened up the door to the bedroom, you heard him snore. All the tense inside you started to disappear as your brain realized that Seth's alright. Slowly, you turned the knob around and opened the door.

He was laying under a blanket, covered just under his shoulder blades. Sure, he was sweaty, probably in a really deep sleep and blushing because of the warmth - but Seth was alive and well. It was proving that everything which went through your head in the last few minutes was untrue. The area around your heart started to feel warm as you leaned your elbow to the doorframe, snickering at your idiocy. What now? Should you just climb back out and leave him to sleep? Well, if someone asks you about Seth and you'd know that he's asleep, safe, in his bed; that would be fucking weird. The most logical solution was to wake him up.

You'd have to explain yourself anyway since Seth clearly remembered your smell. He'd know you were there. Nervously, you walked to the bed and sat on the edge of it. For a moment, you just leaned into the mattress and watched Seth's sleeping face. The long hair suited him, a lot. Before, you hadn't caught that he had a small silver ring pricked into his ear; you also didn't catch how long lashes he had or the small scar in his eyebrow. Dear fuck, how come you hadn't noticed how pretty the man was? Wait. What the hell was this? A sudden melancholy coming out of nowhere? Did that happen to you around anyone you've known? Well, you couldn't recall it.

"Hey. Wake up, sleepyhead. Come on." - Slowly, you rose one of your palms and smoothed his shoulder, shaking him in the process. The man opened up his eyes for a moment and saw you sitting on the edge of the bed with one of your knees thrown over the other with your palm pressed on the hot skin of his body. Immediately, his brain assumed that you're not real. How would you get there, huh? And why would you smooth his shoulder? Without putting any thought into it, he just threw palm over your knee, smoothing it back. Yet when he heard the gasp, he opened his eyes once more - and he saw that you were indeed more than real. Seth's palm flew back to his body.

"Hey." - He took a good look around the bed, realizing that he was still in his bedroom. - "You're inside my house." - This made you laugh. He informed you as if you weren't supposed to know about it. - "I know." - "Let me rephrase it. What are you doing in my house?" - At that, you finally got up from the bed. - "I was worried that something had happened to you. So I kinda broke inside through the bathroom." - "You're not even going to deny any of it?" - The man slipped a few strands of hair behind his ear, sitting up - stopping as he realized he's more or less naked under the blanket. Seth held one of the hems around his chest, covering himself. Surely, you hadn't seen anything you weren't supposed to and you didn't try to look for it.

"You saw me here and I did it, so why would I try to deny anything? Just do me a favor and move it, we're supposed to be at Emily's in twenty minutes and I'm helping with the lunch." - With that, you left to sit in the car for a moment. Seth rushed out in the following minute, barely dressed up. Just as he locked the door, he was still putting on his sweatshirt and balanced on one foot.

Something else had caught your eye. It was the damn bun on the back of his head. Few strands of hair were flying around his ears and on his forehead, but fuck, you could see that he's handsome. Only God was there to help you because you were starting to soften around the boy. - "I might fall asleep like that often." - Seth told you as he fell onto the co-driver's seat. - "Oh, sure. I'll kick your door out next time, be sure of that." - "You know, Jake told me you liked the Sea Wolf you've listened yesterday, so..." - He popped out a CD, wiggling his eyebrows. - "I liked what..?" - You asked back with confusion, leaving the road to Seth's house.

Without any more explanations, the man just popped the CD in - it didn't escape your attention that he hadn't used the seatbelts, which took one furrow to fix. If you'd got into a car crash, you'd most likely just fly through the forth part of the car - but Seth was still kind of human, in the end. There was no excuse for him to not wear the damn seatbelt, no matter how hard would be to try.

It took him a minute to find the song question, which made you realize that he made you... A playlist. Yet as soon as you realized what song was playing, there was a huge smile on your face. It was the song you danced around in Jacob's workshop. As you started to drum the rhythm into the steering wheel, Seth realized that this is maybe the biggest giveaway that you're enjoying it. This alone made the man grin as he leaned back to the seat, looking on the road.

"There's a lot more songs I thought you'll vibe to. It's... Old songs. Bella taught me to listen to most of them. Do you like it?" - He turned at you as another tune started to play. - "I do. Thanks." - You loved it. The work he put into it, even though it was just a dumb CD with songs he thought you might like... You hadn't received such a present in centuries. And for a minute, there you both were, just grinning back and forth at each other like two absolute idiots when you were standing on a turn on the main communication.

Well...

This wasn't going as you hoped it would.

#the twilight saga #twilight saga #twilight crackheads #we stan side characters with little to no development #yaaas queen #seth clearwater is one of them ffs #and he's such a ray of sunshine #seth Clearwater #jacob black #emmett cullen #the cullens #the quileutes #sam uley #emily uley #we stan

[angelofthequeers]

Hold Me By Both Hands: Chapter 27

Disclaimer: I don’t own ML.

Chapter 26 | Chapter 28 | AO3 link

Instead of continuing home, Ladybug swings over to the hotel and yo-yos herself up the side of the building until she’s on the railing of Chloé’s balcony. It’s kind of funny how reminiscent this is of Chat Noir’s visit to her before Glaciator struck, to be honest; maybe Chloé needs this open ear just as much as Marinette had needed Chat Noir’s that time.

“Ladybug! You came to visit me!” Chloé leaps off her seat and is next to Ladybug faster than a heartbeat, throwing her arms around Ladybug’s neck. Ladybug yelps and would have fallen off the balcony if not for Chloé yanking her over to the white seats. “Well, I mean, of course you came to visit me. Why wouldn’t you?”

“I was on my way home and I saw you.” Ladybug’s already heavily regretting this decision as Chloé shoves her down into a seat and then sits down and drags her own seat so close that their legs are touching. “I…thought you might want to talk about today.”

For a split second, Chloé’s smile vanishes. But then it’s back, though with a rather plastic quality to it.

“Why?” Chloé says. “You kicked that akuma’s butt just like you always do. With help from moi and my heart-wrenching sacrifice, of course.”

“Chloé, you can drop the bravado,” Ladybug says. “I know you’ve been trying to be nicer. Why did you ruin Marinette’s gift?”

Chloé snorts loudly. “Perfect princess Dupain-Cheng? She thinks she’s just oh so good. And how dare Sabrina just tell the class about my mother like that! Dupain-Cheng had it coming.”

Ladybug bites down on her tongue so hard that she’s left with a faint metallic taste. “I hardly think that Marinette’s intention was to make you look bad,” she says dryly. “Especially since she’s been helping you become nicer.”

“Forget it.” Chloé slouches back in her seat and crosses her arms, blinking rapidly. Is she…about to cry? Chloé Bourgeois, crying? “I’ll never be nice. Why even bother trying?”

“Because you can’t keep lashing out, Chloé,” Ladybug says. “I know there’s probably history with your mum, and I’m not going to insist that you talk to me about it, but…other people have hard lives as well and they don’t turn it on everyone else.”

“Yeah? Well, none of them are me,” Chloé snaps. “I’ve got everything I want. Daddy gives me everything. I’ve got a devoted best friend. And it’s never enough. It’s never enough.” She hunches over and covers her face with her hands. “I don’t even know what more I want. How the fuck am I supposed to give others what they want? Why should I even care?”

“I think you just want someone to understand you,” Ladybug says softly. None of this excuses Chloé’s bullying and entitlement, sure, but…it’s hard not to feel something for her. “I just don’t understand how you and Adrien could have turned out so different when you’ve got such similar upbringings.”

“Well, Adrikins has always been the perfect prince,” Chloé snorts while dabbing at her eyes with her jacket sleeve, smearing mascara all over the yellow material. “And our upbringings weren’t that similar, apart from the rich and famous and shitty parent thing.”

“Are you sure?” Ladybug says. “Adrien once told me that his mother only disappeared recently. But he must have been sheltered for years, right? His mother –”

“– was an amazing woman,” Chloé says. “Auntie Emilie…okay, so she was way overprotective, but she loved her kid. There. That’s your answer. Adrien’s mother gave half a fuck about him.”

“I’m sorry.” Ladybug reaches over and rests a hand on Chloé’s. Chloé gasps but she doesn’t pull away or give any other indication of discomfort. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to have a parent like that. But that’s not an excuse, Chloé.”

“I just want her to love me!” Chloé stomps her foot. “I tell myself I don’t care and then I see her and it’s like there’s a switch that just flips. She’s my mother, but she treats me like – like I’m a nobody! Like I mean nothing to her even though she’s the one who gave birth to me, so you’d think there’d be some affection!”

“I get that.” How long has Chloé been bottling this up? “But how do you think everyone else feels when you take those feelings and push them on the people around you?”

“You think I don’t know that?” Chloé says. “It makes me feel…good. Like they can have half a goddamn clue how I feel.”

“Chloé, you’ve contributed to more akumas than anyone I know,” Ladybug says gently. “It makes our job harder. I was so proud when I saw you give that birthday present to Marinette and then stood up to Befana for her.”

“You were at Dupain-Cheng’s party?” Chloé’s eyes bulge. “And you didn’t say hi to me?”

“I didn’t really have time to talk to anyone,” Ladybug says, choosing not to point out that she tries not to talk to Chloé more than necessary. “Look, I’m not going to coddle you, because you have to be the one to put the hard work in. But I do see your effort, Chloé. I do see how you try. Consider this your official encouragement.”

“Encouragement for what?” Chloé says. “To paste on a smile and turn all princess nice and sugary sweet…to turn into someone I’m not? I can’t be nice. I’m not nice. Props to Dupain-Cheng for trying, but she failed.”

“Hmm.” Ladybug chews her lip, struggling to find the words that Chloé needs to hear. “You don’t have to be sugary sweet. There’s nothing wrong with being blunt and snarky. But you don’t have to be hurtful as well. You could just as easily turn that bluntness into helpful honesty and that snark into banter. And people will see that you’re trying. I’m sure of it.”

“Wait, so I can be a raging bitch and still be a good person?” Chloé says. “Because that’s probably at least achievable within my lifetime.”

“Well, probably not a raging bitch,” Ladybug says. “But you don’t have to be sugary sweet. Just…work on being less nasty. It’s as simple as not being mean. Don’t say the mean thing you were going to say. Instead, turn it into a snarky half-compliment if you can. Baby steps. But you have to consistently try.”

“Okay, cool, so where do I start?” Chloé says. She groans when Ladybug raises an eyebrow. “Seriously? I have to apologise to Dupain-Cheng? You know I’m not gonna mean it, right?”

“It’s still good practice,” Ladybug says. “The more you do it, the more natural it’ll become. And I’m sure Marinette will recognise that you’re trying.”

“I hate apologising,” Chloé mutters. “But ugh, fine, I guess. Just don’t expect me to be nice about it.”

“I don’t think anyone expects you to be nice about it,” Ladybug says. “You just have to be good and genuine.”

“Okay, fine,” Chloé says. “I’ll turn myself into the jerk with a heart of gold trope.”

“I didn’t think you knew what a trope was.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Chloé says, though there’s a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there a minute ago. “I’m not a dumb blonde. I’m just a lesbian disaster.”

“Huh,” Ladybug says. “I didn’t know you were gay, Chloé.”

“Yeah, no one does. But you’re Ladybug. If there’s one person who won’t judge, it’s you.”

“Of course I wouldn’t.”

“Wait!” Chloé cries when Ladybug slides off her seat and unslings her yo-yo. “Where are you going?”

“I really need to get home,” Ladybug says. “School tomorrow, remember?”

“Ugh, fine,” Chloé says. “But come back whenever you want! You know I’d never turn you away, Ladybug!”

Maybe not Ladybug, but definitely Ladybug’s true identity. “I’ll keep that in mind,” Ladybug says. With a wave, she leaps off Chloé’s balcony and swings over the rooftops to the next street.

.

“Everything okay, Alya?” Marinette says when she tumbles into her seat the next morning and finds Alya staring off into the distance in a daze.

“Hm? Yeah! Fine!” Alya says quickly with a strange grin on her face. “Just a dream I had!”

Uh huh. Sure. A dream. God, how Marinette wishes she could smirk without letting on that she knows exactly what’s got Alya on cloud nine.

“Did someone, like, slip something in her cereal?” Nino says, twisting around to stare. Adrien follows suit, and his cheeks pinken for some reason when he smiles at Marinette.

“I have no idea,” Marinette says. “But she was fine yesterday, so I haven’t ruled it out.”

“Maybe she got to make out with Ladybug,” Adrien grins.

“God, I wish,” Alya sighs.

“You really think she’d be here if she did, dude?” Nino says. “She’d be at home screaming at me over the phone.”

“Nino, we’re adopting cats when we get married,” Alya says. Stars rush to fill Nino’s eyes at the m-word.

“At this point, I’m wondering why they don’t just sit together permanently,” Adrien says.

“Because they’d spend more time making out than doing schoolwork and we’re the only reason that doesn’t happen?” Marinette says. Adrien snorts.

“Where’s Ms B?” Alix complains from the other side of the classroom. “Is she, like, shaken up about yesterday?”

“You could possibly be a little more sensitive about it,” Nathaniel calls over. Alix flips him off with a cheerful smile.

“Um – about yesterday.” Everyone whips around to stare at the front, where Chloé’s standing in front of Ms Bustier’s desk with a grimace. “Thank…you all for sacrificing yourselves to save me. I know it was for Ladybug and not for me, but I’m still…grateful.” She looks at Sabrina and adds, “And I’d like to…apologise for using you as a shield from Zombizou’s kiss. You’re my best friend and I shouldn’t have done that.”

Nobody says anything. They’re probably all thinking the same thing: has Chloé been akumatised? Her next words don’t help that conspiracy theory.

“And I’m also…s-sorry for ruining your gift, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloé forces out. “I’m sorry for lashing out like that because of my own issues. I should have apologised to you yesterday, not to Ms Bustier. It was just easier to say sorry to her instead of you.”

Huh. Chloé really had taken Ladybug’s words to heart. It’s the reminder that she’s Ladybug and she’s the one who’d nudged Chloé to do this that makes Marinette smile at her.

“Apology accepted, Chloé,” Marinette says. “I’m glad you’re still trying to be a better person. I know there’s good in everyone deep down.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to be smug about it,” Chloé snaps. Then she visibly takes a deep breath and clenches her fists. “I mean…thank you.” She rushes to sit down, not saying a thing when Sabrina starts pelting her with questions.

“Wow, Alya really is out of it.” Nino waves his hand in front of Alya’s face, but nothing shatters her goofy grin. “Chloé was just semi-human and nothing from Al.”

“Her love for Ladybug is just that strong,” Marinette grins.

“Ladybug? Where?” Alya blurts out. Nino reaches over to pat her hand.

“Nowhere, babe,” he says. “Just go back to your fantasies.”

“You’re a better man than me, bro,” Kim says.

“Oh, please,” Juleka scoffs. “Everyone has Ladybug on their freebie list.”

“No one has Chat Noir?” Adrien says as Marinette’s cheeks start to heat up at the knowledge that her entire class would apparently let her do them.

“You know I do, bro,” Nino says. Adrien’s eyes turn just as starry as Alya’s.

“Bro.”

“Same here,” Marinette says. “Ladybug’s cool and all, but she wouldn’t be half the hero she is without Chat Noir.” Plus, having herself on her freebie list would just be…weird.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just imply that Chat Noir can compare to Ladybug, for the sake of my redemption arc,” Chloé says loudly.

“Oh, I’d much prefer Chat Noir,” Lila says. Marinette resists the urge to roll her eyes at the sound of Lila’s voice. “Marinette was so right when she said that Ladybug would be nothing without him.”

“I didn’t say she’d be nothing.” No way is she letting Lila twist her words. “Just that she wouldn’t have a chance of saving Paris like she does without Chat Noir there to have her back. It’s a two-person job and even if she’s the only one who can fix Paris, she couldn’t cope without Chat Noir’s support. They’re a team.”

“Angels do exist,” Adrien murmurs, still starry-eyed.

“Aww, someone has a crush on Chat Noir,” Alix teases.

“What? No! Ridiculous that’s – don’t be silly!” Marinette babbles. The classroom goes so quiet that a mouse could fart and be heard clear as day.

“Oh my god, you do,” Alya says. Great, why can’t she be in a disaster pan daze when Marinette actually needs her to be in one? “And you didn’t even tell me?”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind!” Marinette says.

“This is so romantic!” Rose squeals. “He’s your knight in shining leather!”

“Rose!” Marinette wails. Evil, the lot of them, and she’s so not talking to her classmates ever again.

“What happened to your massive crush on Adrien?” Ivan says. Adrien throws his hands in the air.

“Could everyone else see it?” he cries.

“Yes,” choruses the entire class minus Lila and Chloé.

“Sorry, dude, you’re just dense as hell,” Nino says.

“Don’t make me revoke our bro-marriage,” Adrien threatens, and Nino’s eyes widen.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

“It’s still there,” Marinette says in answer to Ivan’s question while Adrien and Nino hash out their little bro-fight. “Adrien was my first real crush and I think there’ll always be something there, but…it’s manageable now, you know?”

“This is the most disgusting sap I’ve ever heard,” Chloé says but without any malice in her voice, which is about as close to supportive as Chloé Bourgeois will probably ever get.

“Honestly, same,” Adrien says. When had he sorted out his bro issues with Nino? “I’ll always love Ladybug, and she’ll probably always be on this “freebie list” that everyone keeps talking about, but now…well, I think I realised it’d never happen.”

“Raise your hand if you’re in any way surprised to hear that Adrien was crushing on Ladybug,” Nathaniel says. If Adrien hadn’t told her so that one morning, Marinette would have been the only person in the class to raise her hand.

“I mean, you’re Adrien Agreste, so she probably would’ve tapped that,” Alix says.

“Alix!” Marinette and Adrien splutter. Alix shrugs.

“What? I’m just telling the truth. Literally everyone here’s been into Ladybug at some point. Nathaniel still draws gooey comics about Super Nathan and Ladybug.”

“Alix, I swear to god, I will stab you in the neck with this pencil,” Nathaniel says.

“Bring it on, tomato head,” Alix grins.

“Aren’t you aroace, though?” Mylène says.

“So?” Alix says. “She’s Ladybug. And I’m not totally aro when it comes to girls.”

“Yeah, which means all you bitches have to get in line behind me,” Chloé says.

“How about you go fuck yourself, Bourgeois?” Alix calls back down at her.

“Eat my entire arse, Kubdel.”

“Yeah, I’m sure this is exactly what we meant by being a good person,” Marinette jokes, seizing the change in subject with both hands like a lifeline so that she doesn’t have to keep hearing about how her classmates would do her alter ego.

“I’m becoming a better person, not turning into a saint, Dupain-Cheng.”

The classroom banter is interrupted by Ms Bustier finally entering the classroom, twenty minutes late. Everyone immediately shuts up and directs their attention to the front, no doubt remembering the events of yesterday after her akumatisation into Zombizou.

“Apologies for my tardiness, class,” Ms Bustier says with her usual smile, although there’s something a little strained about it if one looks too closely.

“Are you okay, Ms Bustier?” Max says. Marinette honestly resents him a little for having been able to largely avoid the classroom drama that had gone on just moments before with whatever device he was tinkering with.

“I’m fantastic, Max!” Ms Bustier beams. “What would make you think otherwise?”

Everyone looks around at each other, seeming to come to an unspoken agreement.

“That’s it,” Mylène says.

“Self-care time!” Rose says.

“Yay, meditation!” Kim adds as they all swarm around Ms Bustier. Even Chloé and Sabrina join them.

“You just want to fall asleep and not get in trouble for it,” Max scoffs. He visibly gulps when Kim sticks his tongue out and elbows him.

“Oh – class – I don’t –”

“You’ve done so much for us, Ms Bustier,” Lila says. “Even me, and I’ve only been here for a few months. Let us take care of you for a bit!”

Ms Bustier’s eyes fill with tears when she takes in her swarmed students. “You’re the best class I could have ever asked for,” she says shakily.

“You’re the best teacher we could’ve asked for,” Marinette says. Ms Bustier’s smile dims a little.

“That’s not quite true,” she says. “I was unfair to you yesterday, Marinette. I put the responsibility of being the better person on the one harmed instead of the one doing the harm, and I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if you had been akumatised because of me.”

“Wait, that akuma was for Marinette?” Juleka gasps. “But Marinette never gets akumatised!”

“And you took it for her?” Nino says. “Dude, you really are the best!”

“Thanks for your apology, Ms Bustier,” Marinette says. Honestly, having someone actually stop and take a minute to see just why she had been so frustrated shouldn’t be such a surprise, but that’s probably what happens after years of her bully bribing and pushing everyone around while the adults look the other way. “And Nino’s right: you really are the best teacher! If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have apologised just now.”

Ms Bustier’s smile this time as she wipes her eyes is one hundred percent genuine. “Thank you, Marinette. That means a lot.”

“I mean, I suppose I can arrange a spa session for you this weekend as a late birthday gift,” Chloé says, tapping away on her phone. “Even teachers need breaks too, I guess.”

“That’s…very nice of you, Chloé,” Ms Bustier says with a proud little smile. Chloé shrugs.

“What can I say? I’m the new Mother Teresa.”

“You do know that Mother Teresa provided subpar care to her patients, managed her charity funds rather suspiciously, and forced her colonialism on her patients to make them convert to Catholicism, right?” Max says.

“Hey, I guess Chloé’s just got really good self-awareness,” Alix grins. Chloé rolls her eyes.

“I repeat: eat my arse, Kubdel.”

“Make me, Bourgeois.”

“If this turns out to be the new Adrienette of the class, I swear to god,” Alya mutters.

“Wait, the new what?” Marinette and Adrien exclaim.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fic #aotq fic #aotq: hold me #marinette dupain-cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #miracuclass #djwifi #hint of chlolix #chloe redemption #well #she's on her way there #pansexual alya cesaire #bisexual nino lahiffe #lesbian chloe bourgeois #asexual alix kubdel #greyromantic alix kubdel #again #no one is straight here #and everyone wants to do ladybug

[lizk77]

Ten Years

This was actually originally posted on facebook around the end of the year. It began with my need to share my experience with others. I saw a few of those ‘10 years ago’ posts where people post a pic from back then and a recent one side by side. I tried that and realized I don’t really look much different. But the last decade of my life has certainly been the most meaningful of my life. This is very personal and discusses physical, mental and emotional abuse so if that’s a sensitive subject for you please don’t read. This is why I’ve been absent from tumblr and writing for so long.

I would also say this is not appropriate for anyone under the age of 18 due to adult themes.

It’s been 10 years. A decade. The most difficult yet meaningful decade of my life. When I think back to the person I was 10 years ago, I am amazed by the woman I’ve become today. I stand here at the end of the most difficult decade of my life and I’m proud. Proud of what I’ve accomplished, my strength and everything I’ve learned.

I began this decade feeling nearly suffocated by grief. I was no stranger to grief, but the loss of my mother was like the spiritual and emotional equivalent of having the wind knocked out of you. Pure, utter devastation. I was overwhelmed by my feelings. The whole world felt like a strange, scary place without my mother in it. In the months preceding her death I had tunnel vision, I focused on taking care of her and Emily and didn’t allow myself time to feel anything. So even though I knew she was dying, it didn’t really hit home until after she was gone. I instantly regretted that I didn’t focus more on enjoying my mother’s last months on this earth. I carry that regret with me still today. I should’ve had her teach me how to make her spaghetti sauce. I should’ve written down the recipe for parsley potatoes that she showed me how to make once but I haven’t been able to duplicate since. I should’ve asked her questions. Questions about my grandparents, about my dad, about when I was a baby. I should’ve had her French braid my hair every night. I miss that the most. I should’ve asked her how to be a good mother. What to do when my child is up at 3am puking down the hallway, all over the bed and the carpet. If I should take my kid to the hospital when she has something stuck up her nose, or how high of a fever is cause for alarm. There have been countless instances over the past decade where I would have given anything to be able to call her for guidance and support.

Grief has been the overwhelming emotion guiding me the past 10 years. I’ve learned that grief never ends. It changes, at first the feeling of loss is so raw that you just don’t know how you’ll ever be the same again. Then, over time, it evolves into every emotion. Grief can be happiness, sadness, anger and frustration. It can encompass all emotions at once. There are times even now when I just feel the loss of her all over again and in that moment I’m devastated all over again. I struggled with a lot of things after my mother’s death. I am still struggling with my faith. I have been angry at God for the past decade, so angry that I have neglected the spiritual well-being of my children. I have yet to figure out how to let that go.

I’ve always considered myself to be a strong, independent person. Life made me that way. I’ve experienced enough death, enough pain, enough abuse. Not long after the death of my mother, I was lured into a relationship that provided security. Financial security, which I had never had before. But I lost my strength. For 7 years I allowed my strength and independence to be stripped away. I was broken, ashamed, nobody knew what I was going through. Hell, I didn’t even realize the full extent of it. I was blind to the damage being caused not just to me, but to my children. I told myself our security was more important than our happiness. I realized after a while that I was wrong, but by then I didn’t know how to get out. I was afraid of losing everything.

Then it happened. The one thing I always said I would never tolerate. And yet, I found myself wishing it would happen. Because then I would have a reason. I watched my mother suffer the effects of physical abuse many times while I was a teenager. I vowed that I’d never let that happen to me. But once I was tangled in the web of my own abusive relationship, I began to realize that there are types of abuse that far surpass the physical. Bruises, cuts, even broken bones eventually heal. And it’s so easy to say, “He hit her? What a monster!” The abuse is very evident. But when you’re subjected to the whims of a narcissist, it’s very different. Everybody thinks they’re such a nice guy. They project an image of being loving and caring and happy. But the truth is they are even more of a monster than the guy who beats his wife. For seven years, I merely existed in his world. I tried as hard as I could to give him what he wanted and make him happy. Nothing I did was ever good enough. My daughters and I walked around our house on eggshells, not wanting to poke the sleeping giant. I tried to be the peacekeeper. Tried my best to keep his anger focused on me and not my girls. I told myself I could take it as he backed me into the bathroom, up against the shower wall, screaming at me with his face inches from mine. Spit flying everywhere. He called me worthless, accused me of cheating, told me I didn’t care about my children or the home we built for them.

And I stayed. Because I didn’t know how to leave. I didn’t think I could take care of my home and children on my own. I wasn’t strong enough. I was weak. I wasn’t good enough. After all, that’s what he had told me for 7 years. The day after one of our fights was always surreal. He acted like it never happened. Told me he loved me and he just needed to get his anger out or he’d explode. Like berating me and breaking me down was no big deal. And I would stand there in front of him, bewildered. Amazed by how really fucked up he was. But I stayed. I kept the peace and I stayed.

Until that night. When he hit me, it was like he knocked some sense into me. I remember the look on my daughter’s face after it happened. Tears welled up in my eyes as my baby looked at me with concern and asked if I was ok. I was not ok. Not at all. I saw myself in the face of my baby, saw the concern I felt for my mother all those years. And I drew strength from it. My mom would have been devastated to know what my life was like. I was her strong child, yet here I was broken and weak. I couldn’t let the same cycle repeat itself. I couldn’t let my kids grow up watching their mother being treated badly. I knew that if she were still alive, I would’ve gotten out sooner. She would’ve seen right through him. She would’ve known he was evil and I was miserable. She always did. She always knew. I used to hate that she was always right about my life and my feelings. But now that she’s gone, I truly miss her ability to tell me what’s wrong with my life. She always had a way of calling me out on my bad decisions. And she was the only one I listened too. The only opinion that really mattered.

So I decided to make a change. I called the cops and had him arrested. Then I went the very next day and filed an injunction for protection from abuse. He was gone. My oldest was already with her dad and my youngest went up north to stay with my aunt for awhile. I had two uninterrupted months to find myself again. I picked up the broken pieces of my life and focused on me. I spent time with friends. I went on dates. I lost a bunch of weight. I went out and experienced life beyond my couch. Gradually I began to feel like myself again. I regained my strength. But I also found myself grieving, once again. Despite everything I had been through, I missed my family. I worked hard for 7 years to build a life and it was gone. Of course I didn’t miss the abusive part of my relationship. But there were some things I missed. The feel of someone next to me in bed at night. Having someone to talk to about my day. Despite my decision to stay single and raise my daughters on my own, I found myself lonely at times. Sure I had been out on dates, but I told everyone up front that I wasn’t looking for a relationship, I just wanted to keep things casual. Once you tell a guy that there’s really no way to take it back. Plus I had so much baggage. And I’m not talking about my kids. I’m talking about emotional baggage. I was a mess. I faked confidence that I didn’t have. Sure I was getting stronger, but healing takes time. How do you tell someone you just met that you just suffered through 7 years of narcissistic abuse? Without them thinking you’re totally crazy? You don’t. So I held it back. I tried to push it to the back of my mind and forget it was there.

It didn’t work. I decided to try something different. I talked about it. To everyone. Literally. Friends, co-workers, family, dates. Reactions were mixed. Most people were really supportive. Some were not. A lot of people just faded into the woodwork of my life at this point. They stopped texting me and returning my calls. I was upset by this at first, but soon discovered that letting it out was like lifting a huge weight off my shoulders. It was helping me heal. I was growing stronger each day. I have to thank each and every person who listened, even if they had a negative reaction. My healing was much quicker because I let all those feelings go rather than bottle them up. I know, crazy, right? Here I am, the cold-hearted one who buries their feelings deep down, sharing all my feelings with pretty much anyone who would listen. And something amazing happened. I started to smile more. I opened up to people. I started being honest and upfront with people about my feelings. Sure, I’m still hurting and healing, but I really feel transformed. I struggle, I have stress and anxiety, mostly about my children and finances. But I am happy. I am confident again. I know I’m a good person and learning how to let go of all the bad feelings and negativity created by my situation. Some days are good, some days aren’t. Some days I feel strong and on top of the world. Others I feel weak and broken. But the most important thing I’ve learned in the past decade is how to pick myself back up, dust myself off and rise above.

I don’t know what the next decade has in store for me. I know I will continue to focus on my inner growth and raising my children. I will figure out how to be happy and how to struggle less. I will also focus on developing honest and loving relationships with the people I care about. Respect and loyalty and communication are my top priority. My focus has to be me and my children. We come first. I refuse to allow any of us to be mistreated or abused. I will settle for nothing less and surround my family with people who are genuine and who care. This is my goal for the next ten years.

It will be the best years of my life.

Tagging: @allaboutchoices @innerpostmentality @bobasheebaby @sirbeepsalot @darley1101 @desiree---1986

I’m tagging just a few people I know. I won’t be offended if you don’t want to read or reblog.

#not choices #personal #ten years #hiatus explained #long post