#Derek would be happy for you too but he never would have gotten salty about it in a the first place | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rqgnarok · 4 years

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in the face of death - derek hale

fandom: teen wolf

words: 1765

warnings: talk of blood and violence, death, teen wolf spoilers, if you haven’t finished the series? werewolf!female!reader

summary: derek faces the anuk-ite and the confrontations opens up old wounds that never really healed.

author’s note below.

“Derek?”

Derek turns around, a feeling not quite like panic but awareness of the danger he’s in making goosebumps erupt through his skin and the hairs at the back of his neck to stand, his eyes closing quickly when Lydia’s warning from earlier echoes in his head: shut your eyes!

“Derek,” he frowns, because he knows it’s not her, is completely aware that (Y/N) left for Gerard’s armory with Lydia and Stiles, but it is her voice. He spent years familiarizing himself with the tone and pitch, tattooing it to his memory at first unwillingly, but then welcoming the knowledge of how (Y/N) sounded like when she was in danger, when she was frustrated or angry at him, when she was in mourning or in love.

It was only a part of what it meant to fall for someone like (Y/F/N), and now he knows her well enough to understand that it's not her, talking to him and walking from the end of the hallway, nearing him with careful, calculated steps.

Still, he tightens his jaw and draws his claws out because knowing isn’t enough. Derek’s been away from home for too long, not as long as he expected but definitely long enough for him to miss her terribly. Their lousy goodbye in the middle of the fucking desert left a lot to desire; if he could turn back time he would’ve kissed her straight on the mouth instead of dodging her sad eyes and closing his own to press a rough, long kiss to the crown of her head.

“Derek, it’s okay,” the voice calls for him, he can hear it closerclosercloser, but he can’t move, can’t turn around, he’s not sure that if he does he’ll fight the shapeshifter off of him or fall straight into its game. He panics, for a moment, wonders if the reason why the Anuk-Ite is so good at pretending to be (Y/N) is because he’s already got to her before Scott could fix any of this, even before Gerard’s hunters had a chance to fight her first.

A shiver, his fingers tremble at how bad he’s tensing them, his jaw and shoulders ache.

“It’s over,” it tries to win him over, and the soft fingers clutching his right shoulder catch him off guard even if they shouldn’t. And, damn it, it has got (Y/N)’s touch down to a T, too, skin perfect despite the fights and battles she’s gotten into, a werewolf’s healing nature erasing any physical scar she might’ve acquired during their suicidal-like stunts to save the town from the supernatural and vice versa.

But Derek knows none of them have gotten out of them truly intact, is more than aware of those wounds hidden deep inside their minds and not so easy to notice, impossible to really truly heal from them completely.

It takes Derek a moment too long to shift away from the hold and he knows, he knows he’s trapped, done for, as good as dead as Peter, who was waiting for him, Scott and Malia at the entrance of the school, features forever caught off guard and set in stone if they don’t fix this soon. “It’s okay, you can look now.”

“You’re not real,” he bites back, turning around suddenly and throwing a punch so blind not because his eyes are closed but because Derek’s always been weak when it comes to her, and since he came back they’ve barely shared a couple of stolen looks before Scott sent them all on different ways. As he faces Death right now Derek can only think I hope she knows how I feel. He hopes that those looks conveyed everything he was trying to say, the I’m sorry I left, I still love you, I don’t think I ever stopped missing you-

“I’m right here,” there’s a smile in those words, Derek’s been away for a while but he remembers what it looks like and how it tastes, and the memory of (Y/N) grinning sleepily back at him as the sun rises through the windows of his loft, eyes soft and happy and Derek’s sure hand on the small of her back as if that simple touch could protect her of every evil in Gerard Argent’s bestiary. is the only thing keeping him from opening his eyes and surrendering.The moment he does the memory fades, left behind on the back of his eyelids and forgotten as he’s turned into stone. “I’m here, Derek, and so are you, you came home. I didn’t think you would.”

His tightly shut eyes soften almost involuntarily, there’s nostalgia and residual hurt from when he drove away and left her standing outside the abandoned church, and this is the kind of reprimand he expected to be thrown at him when he came back, yet it still feels like a sucker punch to the stomach. He momentarily forgets this isn’t the girl he left behind and lets himself be swallowed by the guilt of his actions.

When he first came back to Beacon Hills after the fire he realized that he wasn’t the best at running away, and the second time he left he expected to be better at it, except now he’s got something to run to rather than away from, and that’s how he realizes, he was always meant to end up here: in the middle of a war he’s been fighting his entire life for just being what he was born as, but willing to give his life to it if it means (Y/N) won’t have to live with the repercussions of their kind.

“But you did, you’re here,” she coos, soft and somehow incredibly personal. It’s not everybody (Y/F/N) doesn’t acknowledge with an almost harsh sarcasm Derek’s sure she got from hanging out with Stiles too much. There’s a hand reaching for one of his own and it's amazing how quickly the claws draw back, he lets it be held despite knowing better. “You came back, that’s all that matters to me. Derek, please, open your eyes.”

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, even when she guides his hand to rest on top of her heart, feeling it beat underneath his fingertips and being too unfocused, blindsided to realize that he can’t actually hear it, a sound he’s learned to identify as easily as her voice.

No, for now, he trusts his touch, his fingers as they follow the path to her face through her collarbones and the slope of her neck, sighing out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in since he decided to drive back to Beacon Hills as (Y/N) leans into his touch, the weight familiar against his palm.

“We can skip town,” she suggests, light and hopeful with an underlining of satisfaction as he remains putty in her grip. Derek’s too enamoured to notice, resolve weakened by the presence of the shapeshifter that’s been haunting his hometown and his traitorous heart, which insists on focusing on literally anything but the matter at hand. “Get in your car, drive to wherever the hell we want. You always wanted a home away from the city, we can do that. I wanna go with you, Derek, please let me go with you.”

I’d take you anywhere he admits to himself, a fact he wasn’t ready to acknowledge a year and a half ago. It had taken him less than an hour into his drive to realize how true it was, but at the time he was convinced that it was the right thing to do, letting her go and trusting she’d be safer with a pack that had people like Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski in it. However blind their optimism and suicidal their plans could be they were good kids, and were certainly better at protecting the people they cared about than Derek had been his whole life.

“Please, don’t leave me behind again.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“Then look at me,” she insists, and the air reeks of something Derek can’t recognize, at least nothing he relates to (Y/N) at all, and that should be one of the many warning signs he should’ve taken into consideration to realize that he’s letting his guard down so quickly it’s so fucking stupid. There’s a hand in his hair, slowing down to settle at the back of his neck. “Please, Derek, don’t leave me, look at me-”

“I-”

“Why won’t you look at me?” she covers his hand with her own, and the intensity of her grip along with the fire in her voice is what makes him pull away, too out of character and out of place for the Anuk-Ite to keep the charade any longer, to pretend it’s something, someone it’s not. Derek takes his hand back with a harshness to his movements, his claws back in display and fangs ready to fight his way out of it.

Its voice, shaky with a fury that does not belong to (Y/N) and never has in the years Derek has known her, breaks the spell, and if he weren’t in so much fucking trouble, the born werewolf would laugh. The Anuk-Ite’s greatest advantage in a fight has just become its downfall, unable to perfectly recreate the only person Derek knows better than he knows himself.

After all these years sometimes he fears he’s forgotten the voices of those he lost in the fire, their mannerisms and their familiar expressions. If it weren’t for his mother’s visits in his dreams, his family’s eyes and manners alive in Cora’s and Peter’s faces, he would’ve.

But there’s no way he’d forget her, he knew it the first time after he spent the whole afternoon with her in a injured daze with a wolfsbane bullet deep inside his arm, he knew it when he left her behind in that desert with the taste of salty, bloody skin imprinted on his mouth, still tingling as he drove away and watched her through the rearview mirror until (Y/N) became nothing more than something else he’d left behind in Beacon Hills.

And he knows it now, as he opens his eyes, helpless, aware that the last thing he is going to see is the one monster he couldn’t save his hometown from. His thoughts blur together into a senseless babble inside his head, I hope they make it out, Scott, does he have enough time, please, take care of her for me, tell her I’m sorry, tell (Y/N) I love-

He gives into the darkness.

i wrote this like seven months ago and just wrote a quick ending so i could upload something, mostly cause its been over a year since i have written anything, let alone completed it and i’m still working on the requests you have been sending out.

its been a long year with a horrible writers block but i kinda do like this, so here it is, for you. i hope you like it. i also have a vague idea for a scott piece i wanna write but im not sure i will, lmao, tho writing for teen wolf is really, really easy for me, idk why. anyways, whatever.

stay home and stay safe.

- e.

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sparkandwolf · 4 years

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Merpeople and tooth rotting fluff if you can! Thank you!

Salty but Sweet

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale Rating: General Summary: “Honey, I know you want to believe mermaids are real, but you can’t just--” There was another splash behind him and Derek was going to ignore it, but Cora’s face lit up in a giant grin.

___________________

Derek watched as Cora ran along the beach, her tiny feet kicking up sand and splashing at the waves rolling to the shore. He loved bringing Cora out to play, to soak in the rays and cool down in the ocean current. It wasn’t often that they could spend time together with Derek constantly on the go, so spending time with his little sister was always special. His summers off seemed to be the only thing that kept him sane.

“Der!” Her bright voice chimed through the sea breeze. Derek rested the book on the rocks beside him and put all of his attention toward her. “There’s mermaid’s in the ocean!” She said, pointing out toward the wide expanse of the ocean. Derek nodded, wishing he had the imagination of a child again, and walked toward her.

“Of course there are,” he agreed, picking her up and holding her on his hip.

“I saw one. His name is Stiles. He’s bathing on the rocks because mermaids need the sun just as much as humans do.” Derek couldn’t help but chuckle as she said the words so matter-of-factly.

read the rest on ao3 or under the cut

“What color is Stiles’ tail?” Derek asked, placing her back on her feet. She squatted down and drew a figure into the sand, accentuating the long tail with tiny scales. She peered back up at Derek, her face contorted in concentration, and Derek’s heart burst from how adorable she was.

“A lot of colors. This part here,” she pointed to the very bottom of the tail, “is a really dark red. And then it gets lighter and lighter until here.” She pointed at his waist just before a wave washed up and erased her picture. She pouted and took off running toward the end of the beach before climbing up at a few dangerous looking rocks. Derek sprinted after her, calling her name with every step. She disappeared over the rocks and Derek’s stomach dropped when he heard a loud splash.

“Cora!” He screamed as he sprinted and launched himself up on the rocks. He looked down in the water, unable to find her bright pink bathing suit, his panic growing with every second.

“Derek, you scared him,” Cora pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. He pulled her into his arms and held onto her tightly as she squirmed. “You scared my mermaid away!” She yelled as Derek finally released her.

“You can’t run away like that, Cor! There was no one over here to stop you from falling into the ocean. You could’ve been hurt!” Cora rolled her eyes and Derek was annoyed at how much it looked like him.

“Stiles is an adult and could’ve saved me if I fell. But I didn’t fall! I just wanted to see his tail again!” Derek huffed and crossed his own arms over his chest, mimicking her position.

“Honey, I know you want to believe mermaids are real, but you can’t just--” There was another splash behind him and Derek was going to ignore it, but Cora’s face lit up in a giant grin.

“I wouldn’t have let her drown, pops,” a voice said as he turned. He pushed Cora behind him and she tried to surge forward and the - the mermaid? - scoffed in his direction. “In what fairy tale are mermaids kidnappers?” Derek tilted his head and furrowed his brow because what else was he supposed to do. There was a man, a beautiful man, a freckled chest glistening with ocean water, and a… tail. A tail, red gradient just as Cora had described, that was splashing in and out of the water slowly. Derek was mesmerized immediately.

“Do most people have a normal reaction when they see you for the first time?” Derek retorted. The mermaid gaped, kicking up his fin to toss water directly into the center of Derek’s chest. He sputtered and swiped his hand over his chest, Cora giggling brightly behind him. She snuck around Derek and before he could stop her, she slipped on one of the rocks jutting from the sand. The mermaid caught her before she fell and tugged her to his side, Cora nestling in snugly.

“Careful, little one,” he murmured, swiping a hand over her hair. “There’s only so much this mermaid can save you from.” Cora beamed up at him and Derek wasn’t sure he had ever seen her so happy.

“How can I get a tail like you, Stiles?” She asked, her eyes turned pleading. Derek watched the two of them, trying to remember when he fell and slammed his head on the rocks because all of it was obviously a dream.

Stiles’ bubbling laughter tossed him out of his thoughts and Derek thought it was one of those most beautiful things he had ever heard. “I’ll tell you when you’re older, lovebug,” he said softly, glancing up at Derek. “I bet your dad here wouldn’t quite like me influencing your mind that way.” He glanced up at Derek with a wink that had Derek’s face reddening.

“Ew!” Cora exclaimed, a look of disgust contorting across her small face. “Derek is my brother, Stiles. Not my dad!” Derek couldn’t help but chuckle as she stuck her tongue out and shook her head viciously. Stiles’ laughter chimed again and Derek was snapped back into reality, if that was what he could call it.

“Mermaid,” Derek started, only to be cut off by a sharp glare from his sister.

“His name is Stiles, Der!” She retorted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, Der, my name is Stiles. And I am a mermaid, yes.” Derek wanted to smack the smirk off of Stiles’ face almost as much as he wanted to kiss him. Stiles seemed to notice his internal struggle and tilted his head in amusement. Derek realized Stiles was waiting for him to finish his earlier sentence and blushed darker.

“Stiles,” he said a lot softer than he intended, “you’re telling me that mermaids are real?” Stiles nodded, pulled Cora closer into his side as she swiped a hand down his tail that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. “And that all this time, they have been swimming along the beach I go to five times a week?” Stiles blushed at that and Derek raised an eyebrow. “You know I come here,” Derek said. It should’ve been a question, but the look on Stiles’ face said everything he needed to know. “Have you seen me before?” He pried. A surge of pride washed through him when Stiles ducked his head and rolled his eyes.

“He knew exactly who you were! It’s why he let me play with him and was so nice!” Stiles glared at Cora before splashing her with his tail, looking away as if his fin had a mind of its own. Cora squealed in delight, reaching down toward the water to splash him back. She started tumbling forward but that time Derek didn’t panic because he knew Stiles would catch her. The immediate trust should have scared him more than it did. He slid his tail underneath her knees and kicked her back up to sitting, rolling his eyes that were filled with fondness.

“So, Stiles, how often do you come around here?” Derek said as he leaned back against the rock, overlapping his legs as he stared down at the two of them. He realized the insanity of everything that was happening and decided to embrace it for what it was, his eyes boring into Stiles’ that seemed to glisten like the sea.

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned his face out to the ocean, but Derek still saw his blush. “My pod lives about a mile from here and this is the nearest beach with rocks that we can sun on and it has the added perk of being far away from the major road and--” Derek cut him off with a look that had Stiles rolling his eyes again. Cora’s laughter filled the air as she reached into a small pool of water.

“You talk a lot for a mermaid, Stiles,” she commented, staring intently down at the shells she held delicately in her hand. Stiles gaped at her before looking back at Derek who was barely containing his laughter.

“You’ve talked to a lot of mermaids then?” Stiles teased, his fin dipping into the water before dumping a small amount of the liquid on her head. Derek couldn’t stop his thoughts from trailing to whatever else Stiles could do with his tail. He blushed at the thought and looked out over the sea as the sun started setting. He didn’t realize it had gotten so late and was surprised by how much he didn’t want to leave.

“Cor, we have to get you back,” he said regretfully, rubbing the back of his neck when Cora’s lower lip started trembling. He chanced a glance at Stiles and saw a bit of sadness in his eyes and he could feel his resolve slipping the longer their eyes stayed connected.

“But Derek!” She said with a stomp, crossing her arms over her chest to accentuate the pout on her lips. Stiles pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing and Derek knew that feeling all too well. Cora was a spitfire but she was adorable when she was angry.

“We can come back. In a few days when I have you next, maybe we can meet Stiles right here,” Derek offered, a shyness in his tone as his eyes flashed to Stiles again. The overwhelming fear of rejection was quickly obliterated by the bright smile that crossed Stiles’ face.

“I’m here every day, little one. And even if I wasn’t, I’d come back for you.” Derek knew he was talking to Cora, but Stiles’ eyes never left his. Heat surged through Derek, his heart clenching in his chest and his stomach flipping in ways he didn’t think possible.

“Every day?” Cora asked, her face softening as she sniffled. Derek saw the hope in her eyes and thought his own held the same. Stiles nodded and held his arms out to her as she jumped forward into them. He squeezed her tight, with his entire body, and Derek didn’t think he could possibly warm more.

“Let me tell you a secret,” Stiles started. He glanced at Derek with a smirk before cupping Cora’s ear in his hands so Derek couldn’t hear the words. Derek rolled his eyes but leaned against the rock behind him to give them the semblance of privacy. When Stiles pulled away, Cora nodded eagerly and pressed a wet kiss to his cheek. Stiles beamed at her and pushed her windswept hair back before placing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll see you soon, Stiles!” Cora waved happily, making her way over the rocks and leaving Derek gaping behind her.

“What did you say to her?” Derek asked, a hesitant excuse not to leave. Stiles smiled up at him and Derek reveled in the brightness and joy behind it.

“That’s between me and the little one, Derek,” Stiles said softly. Derek nodded and with one last smile, turned to leave. Before he made it to the edge of the rocks, Stiles called after him. “Come back tomorrow,” Stiles said. It was a question that he knew Derek couldn’t say no to. He nodded and gasped as Stiles pushed off the rock and dove into the water. It was the most graceful movement Derek had ever seen and for the first time in a long while, he was speechless.

“You coming, Derek?” Cora asked, running back over to where he stood, mouth fallen open. Derek nodded and continued his trek, taking Cora’s hand in his as they made their way to the other side of the beach.

“So, what do you think of Stiles?” Derek asked playfully as he strapped her into her car seat. Cora giggled before looking up at Derek with wide, optimistic eyes.

“Can we keep him?” Cora asked.

And who was Derek to say no?

#sterek #sterek fic #stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles x derek #derek x stiles #mermaid fic #my writing #this was so much fun to write oMFG #thank you so much #and i super hope you enjoyed it <3 #purecanesugar

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shy-marker-pliers · 4 years

Text

The Adventures of Eric Derekson Chapter 9 | Nightmares

Relationship: Heric

Warnings: physical abuse from a parent, crying, nightmares (obvi)

Taglist: @ericdereksonprotectionsquad @random-awkward-person @salty-sadness22 @allidrawsstuff @weretiger19 @jackthekit-kat @cute-anxious-kitten @i-am-a-losercorn @skepticeye @muntiller @djpaige13paige @mysepticheartfan1 @bashfulmusician @mayelamker @russellhowell @little-frying-pan @friendlyphantom @mutechild @supreme-meme-machine @caori-azarath @lamiasluck

“You’re useless.”

“you’re worthless.”

“I wish you’d never been born.”

“You should have died instead of your brothers.”

Eric couldn’t see. the world around him was dark, and he couldn’t tell if it was just the room or if he had gone blind. Not that it was his main concern right now.

Derek’s voice was all around him, booming, yelling. he covered his ears, but the voice seemed to find its way into his head, even louder than before. He was screaming and screaming and all Eric wanted was for it to stop-

Suddenly, he was in his room. All was quiet, except for the sound of his breathing. He nearly sobbed in relief, but then...

There Derek was, standing in his room just like he had been weeks ago. All Eric remembered after that was pain. His father was hitting him and screaming and god Eric just wanted it to be over. he wanted it to stop hurting, he wanted to get away, he wanted to die-

Thump.

Eric fell onto his bedroom floor, tangled up in his blankets with the salty taste of tears on his lips. Then he was sobbing, unsure if it was from fear, relief, or a mixture of the two. He carefully freed himself from his blankets and stood up on shaking legs, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

After Eric had used a tissue to dry his remaining tears and washed his face with some cool water, he went to the place he always did whenever he had a nightmare.

The Host’s library.

Checking the clock, he saw that it was about 2 AM, which meant that he would be finishing up his radio show right about now. He had told Eric that he was welcome in the library anytime, but he still knocked. Being polite was important after all.

He heard the sound of static, then a click of a machine being switched off.

“Enter.”

He carefully pushed open the large oak doors that gave way to the library. “H-Hey Host. ‘s me.”

Host rounded the corner. His usual getup of a trenchcoat, collared shirt and dress pants was abandoned in favor of a large grey sweater and pajama pants that had little blue stars on them.

“The Host had a feeling Eric would be coming tonight, so he dressed accordingly.”

Eric blushed. The Host never let himself be seen in anything but his normal outfit. To be honest, Eric didn’t think he even had any other clothes until that moment. And yet, here he was.

“O-Oh, you didn’t have to do that...I mean, i-if you wanted to that’s okay! And i’m not saying you look bad, you l-look really good- er, not that you don’t look good normally! You a-always look good, I just- (Shut up Eric, you’re blowing it!) ...you look different, is all. A good different.”

The Host put a hand over his mouth to hide a small laugh.

“The Host understands what Eric means. He thanks him for the compliment.”

“y-you’re welcome...anyways, i’m guessing since you knew I was coming you know w-why i’m here too.”

Host’s expression turned solemn as he nodded and wrapped an arm around Eric’s shoulders.

“Come on, Eric needs to get some rest. it’s only 2 in the morning, after all.”

The Host was warm as always, and Eric found himself snuggling into his side. His tiredness hit him like a tidal wave, and he let out a big yawn, stumbling a bit. Host smiled softly and picked Eric up, carrying him to the big leather couch in the center of the library.

“The Host apologizes for the clutter.”

Eric chuckled. “You always say that. Don’t worry ‘bout it, it makes it more homey.”

Host set Eric down. “Tea?”

“Not tonight, thanks.”

“Sleep it is, then.”

Host laid down on the couch first, stretching out similarly to how a cat would. Then came Eric, curling up on his chest and wrapping his arms around his middle. finally, Host pulled a blanket over the two of them and rested a hand on Eric’s curly black hair, combing his fingers through it absently. The other sighed, leaning into The Host’s touch.

After a few minutes, Eric asked in a small voice, “Host? C-Can you tell me a story? My mama used to do that whenever I couldn’t sleep. i-it helps. Being able to hear someone else’s voice, I mean.”

“The Host doesn’t see why not, It is his job after all. Is there any story in particular Eric would like to hear?”

“I dunno, something nice. A h-happy story.”

“Alright, give The Host a moment to think.”

He was silent for a few seconds before he began to speak.

“Once, there was a giant named Simon. He lived all alone in a huge forest with only the wild animals to keep him company. Though he had clothes, shelter, lakes to swim in and enough food and water to last him forever, he wasn’t content. In fact, he was very lonely. After all, what good is a paradise when there is no one to share it with?

“So one day, Simon decided to go into town. For the first time, he left his forest and ventured out into civilization. But when he got there, the people all ran for their lives. They all thought that he would kill them, or destroy their village. Though Simon was big enough to crush their houses with a few steps, that didn’t mean he wanted to. In fact, all he wanted in life was a friend, someone to help his forest home feel less lonely. He looked all around, but all the villagers had hidden, and he certainly didn’t want to take one of them away if they didn’t want to go. So he went back to his forest.

“Simon cried enough tears to fill a lake that night. He sat on the ground, not wanting to go anywhere or do anything. The wild animals were worried for him, but when they came to try and help him feel better, he just ignored them.

“Later that day, he heard yelling. it was two men, The bigger one chasing the smaller and calling him things like ‘street rat’ and ‘dirty theif.’ he was carrying a loaf of bread and some fruit, and Simon guessed that he had no food at home. So he hid behind a tree, and when the men ran past, he scooped up the small one and scared the bigger one away. He thought that the smaller would run too, after the danger went away, but to his surprise, he stayed and thanked Simon for saving him.

“The man’s name was Charlie, and he had no home and no family to speak of. Simon offered to let him stay in the forest with him, and Charlie agreed. So the two became friends, and spent the rest of their days together in the forest. The end.”

Eric squeezed Host a bit tighter when the story was done. “That story’s about us, r-right?”

“The Host may have...drawn some inspiration from reality, yes.” He said with a small smile.

“I like that story. s’nice.”

“The Host is glad Eric thinks so.”

Eric was about to say something else, but was interrupted by a huge yawn. Host ruffled his hair.

“Eric needs to get some sleep. It’s far too late for him to be up.”

“okay. g’night, Host.”

...—...

Host didn’t have an alarm clock because he found that he woke up at about the same time every day anyway, but Eric needed one if he wanted to wake up anytime before 10. So when The Host woke at the usual time and Eric was still sleeping, hugging him like a giant teddy bear, he had no choice but to wake him up. He gently shook his shoulder.

“Eric needs to wake up, it’s almost time for breakfast.”

Eric grumbled and smushed his face into Hosts stomach. “Nooooo...I don’ wanna get up, y-you’re warm...”

“The early bird catches the worm.”

“I don’t want w-worms, I want sleep and hugs.”

Host sat up, causing Eric to have to do the same.

“Whyyyy?”

“Because Wilford is making french toast, and The Host will die before he misses Wilford’s french toast.”

The Host stood up and disappeared for a few minutes before coming back wearing his usual clothes. Eric was still in his pajamas and his hair was a mess, but he had put on his glasses. Host put his arm around Eric and steered him towards the kitchen.

“I don’t see why I couldn’t have gotten a few more minutes of sleep.”

“French toast waits for no man, dear.” The name slipped out before Host had the chance to stop himself. He froze, but to his relief the only reaction he got from Eric was a smile and a slight blush. The two continued on their way to the kitchen.

Eric wasn’t sure what he would call him and Host. Great friends definitely, maybe even best friends, but neither of them had made a move to make it anything more than that. Though they were much more affectionate towards each other than they were with anyone else, neither of them had said anything about it. If Eric weren’t so anxious he would have, but that obviously wasn’t the case. So friends they stayed.

Eric liked The Host. Of course he did, or else he wouldn’t have spent almost all of his time with him. If he didn’t like Host, he wouldn’t come to him whenever he had nightmares, he wouldn’t talk with him for hours, and he definitely wouldn’t be thinking about how strong he was, or his laugh, or that lopsided smile of his, or his perfect voice, or how damn gorgeous he had looked in that sweater the previous night-

Eric needed to stop before he turned into a living tomato. At the moment, he and Host were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And that was enough.

For now.

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potterandpreferences · 5 years

Note

47 + 52 with Spence? ❤️

Prompt List

I set out to write this as a happy piece and then this happened 🙈 Hope you enjoy it! It's not set in any particular season.

47. What on Earth is that smell?

52. I'm sorry for your loss.

It had been eight days, sixteen hours and twelve minutes since you had last seen Spencer. He was currently on a case, far from local, and it was the longest you had been apart since you had moved in together. You understood that his job was important but it really sucked that despite having the same home address, it sometimes felt as if you were in a long-distance relationship. You had no idea how army wives and husbands did it, because you were reaching levels of stress that were far from healthy and Spencer had only been gone a fraction of a time their spouses were overseas.

As it was you had, for all intents and purposes, started nesting. The winter blankets you'd brought over from your old apartment were divided between the bedroom and the living room sofa, Spencer's pillow became a feature of whichever room you were snuggled up in, and you had cleaned the flat. Extensively.

Unfortunately, you'd run out of things to clean and you were in an upwards, restless phase of your stress cycle. You had to do something, because you couldn't just sit and stare at a clock without your worried thoughts driving you insane.

The best solution you could come up with was the bake. You knew Spencer would be home soon - he'd mentioned they were wrapping the case up the last time you spoke - and maybe he would like a fresh batch of cookies to come home too? It would surely cheer him up. No doubt a case that lasted eight days for the BAU team was horrific. And once you had baked, there would be more to clean.

Now normally, making a batch of cookies would be simple. You'd done it before, even as a child, so you knew perfectly well that biscuits were within the realm of your baking capabilities.

This was not the impression that Spencer got when he walked into the flat that evening. His nose wrinkled even before he crossed the threshold of the front door, the smell of burnt something hanging in the air despite the open windows he could see. But there was something sweet mixed in with the bitter scent, and he was sure he could smell gingerbread.

"What on Earth is that smell?" He called out, in way of greeting. It wasn't what he wanted to come home to, not really, but he was just so glad to see you that it amused him that something had gone wrong in the kitchen more than anything. Of course, that amused grin slipped away the moment he saw you wrapped up in several blankets on the sofa, leaning on the pillows from the bed, eating a tub of your favourite ice cream as tears trickled down your cheeks.

"Oh sweetheart, what's happened?" His tone was soothing, breaking you out of your miserable trance as you noticed for the first time that he was home. You perked up a bit, snuggling into his side as best you could when he perched on the arm of the sofa next to you.

His fingers slipped into your hair, softly massaging your scalp just the way you liked. You ate another spoonful of ice cream before answering his questioning, fighting back a new round of tears.

"I wanted to make cookies but they went wrong, so I tried to make another batch and they got burnt," you sniffled. You really had tried so hard to make a good batch but your attention kept slipping and you couldn't concentrate on what the recipe instructions were.

"When it became clear that cookies weren't gonna work, I bought some gingerbread men from the shop but by the time I got home they were broken. I think the ice cream fell on them," you added, glumly continuing to comfort eat even if the waterworks had stopped.

Spencer knew it wasn't right to laugh - the fact he could see you were wearing one of his cardigans and that your socks were mismatched were indicators enough that you had been particularly stressed and worried while he wad away - but you just looked so young and innocent. If your biggest upset in a day was that the biscuits you'd been attempting to make were burnt then he was a happy man.

"You know my team will always look out for me, right?" He reminded you gently, understanding that your irrational upset had fundamentally been caused by anxiety over him. "They'll always make sure I come home safe. Safer than the gingerbread men, anyway," he teased lightly, pressing a fond kiss to your forehead.

"Being silly," you muttered, pressing your forehead into Spencer's side in embarrassment. He'd been on scores of cases since you first met and you had never gotten this worked up.

Spencer frowned. "Hey, hey. Look at me, Y/N." He waited until your eyes met his, his hands cupping your face tenderly. "It's not silly. I do some stupid things when I get worried about you, too. That time we had a case in D.C. and you were in the city centre for work? I was a mess. Derek had to stop me putting salt in my coffee on more than one occasion and Emily had to double check I was labelling things correctly on the geographical profile."

You giggled slightly at that, enjoying the image of Spencer drinking salty coffee while someone else checked his normally faultless work. No doubt it would be horrendous, especially with the amount of sugar he tended to add, and Emily would love the bragging rights from correcting Robot Reid.

Wanting to change the subject, especially now that Spencer was home and there was no reason for you to be so worried because he was right it front of you, uninjured, you decided to tell Spencer what your biggest concern was in that instance.

"There's no more ice cream," you said, surprised and mildly impressed that you had eaten an entire tub without realising it.

"I'm sorry for your loss," your oh so loving boyfriend replied as he stood up, taking the empty tub to the kitchen. He was happy to move on from the conversation now that you'd stopped crying. Besides, he didn't need to talk about what your currently mental health was like. His profiling skills were for more than just catching unsubs. "I'm sure there's more in the- How many gingerbread men did you buy?!"

#criminal minds imagine #spencer x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds

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lisbonsteresa · 5 years

Note

1-27 for the good place

FLKASJDFLK intense! Ok, I’ll try to be as brief as possible:

What OTPs in your fandom(s) do you just not get?*Honestly tgp is pretty *chef’s kiss* in terms of shipping possibilities, so there’s not many options I’m opposed to. The only thing I can think of (and I don’t think these are popular or otps for.....anyone?) would be shipping like, Shawn or Michael with one of the humans.

Are there any popular fandom OTPs you only BroTP?*[see above]

Have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion?Yes

Do you have a NoTP in your fandom? Are they a popular OTP?*[may I refer you to Q1? it’s a lovely question]

Has fandom ever ruined a pairing for you?*Not this fandom

Has fandom ever made you enjoy a pairing you previously hated?*Hmmm......not this fandom

Is there anything you used to like but can’t stand now?*The f*cking reboots I swear to god Schur there’s clever plot twists and then there’s narrative MacGuffins. The end of s1 was a Moment even if you had started to/guessed what was going on, and I love Dance Dance Resolution and how the reboots were used in it but.....every season? we need one every season? we do not

Have you received anon hate? What about?*Very thankfully not (and I’m not looking to change that fact thank you!!)

Most disliked character(s)? Why?Listen.........I love Jason Mantzoukas......but I would have been 100% ok with Derek being completely one-off

Most disliked arc? Why?2.07, which I am calling an arc because the show only used one episode to explore the very complicated and sensitive topic of neglectful/emotionally family members and how they can affect a person’s beliefs, actions, and feelings of self-worth or value and I hated it!(also the s3 chelenor arc which was sloppy and relied too much on the fandom’s love of the pair from the previous two seasons)

Is there an unpopular character you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?Do people actively dislike characters on this show? Or just like them less than others? In any case, Mindy is a gem and I hope she pops up in s4.

Is there an unpopular arc that you like that the fandom doesn’t? Why?I would say the s3!Earth arc, but.......they really kinda kicked the dog into the sun with that one for me

Unpopular opinion about XXX character?Ahhhhh........(I feel like I say this a lot) Kristen and Ted.....I love you......Eleanor and Michael......I could use a bit less of you

Unpopular opinion about your fandom?........we judged Jason x Tahani too harshly. They were cute.

Unpopular opinion about the manga/show?Listen, I GET the short seasons and the points you’re trying to make and the breakneck pace you have to move the plot at to get to those points, but.......it’s really starting to feel like it’s at the expense of your characters[Also, I mean.......see Q13. I get the ‘main character!’ ‘biggest stars!’ arguments, I do, but.......it’s been 3 seasons and we know like, 3 things about Chidi’s pre-Bad Place life, but we’ve gotten the equivalent of like 3 episodes-worth of Eleanor’s]

If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?Either longer seasons or more seasons, because I love character focus and I miss s1

Instead of XYZ happening, I would have made ABC happen…2.07 never happens. it’s fine. Honestly, instead of setting up Chidi and Simone as an adorable and lovable couple (and Simone as a brilliant and well-matched new member of the gang) while positioning him and Eleanor as close friends for 4 episodes before completely dropping Simone as a character for 9 episodes and smashing Eleanor and Chidi back together only to then bring Simone back as essentially a complication for chelenor and a symbol of guilt/anxiety for Chidi that causes him to decide to reset himself back to 0 when he’s already the character we know the least about.....I would have s3 be nearly all-Earth; the gang coming together and becoming friends, Michael and Janet somehow exposing the secrets of the afterlife and the team figuring out what that means for each of them/how they approach life after this (like Jeremy Bearimy but with 2-3 episodes instead of 3-4 plots in one half hour), ideally one episode each for the original four humans to reunite/confront those in their past who were part of what shaped them into the people they are now, Chidi and Simone happily dating while Eleanor enthusiastically supports them as they are two of her best friends and she is thrilled that they’re happy together and the connection she has with Chidi does not need to be romantic in order for it to be impactful and help them both become their best selves. (and meanwhile everybody else dates in whatever arrangements they fall into - but elhani rises and it’s glorious.) And maybe the last.....2-3 episodes are when they make the jump to the Good!Good Place and meet Gwendolyn bc I love her and Simone comes with them and it turns out the new neighbor connected to Chidi is Uzo because friendships are important too! and honestly I don’t have a fancy way around Chidi resetting himself again - it’s a corner well-written into - but maybe we just don’t and his conflict next season is dealing with the knowledge that his best and closest friend has no memory of him or their lives together

Does not shipping something ‘popular’ mean you’re in denial and/or biased?Nah. Sometimes.....popular ships.......are bad

What is the one thing you hate most about your fandom?Not one of us could make it through Chidi’s original thesis

What is the purest ship in the fandom?Jason and Janet are both the purest and the most !?!? because they are so cute together but also it’s like where did this come from!?!? we hugged and talked about jalapeño poppers and ps we’re getting married!?!? what?!?! who knows but it’s adorable

What are your thoughts on crack ships?Generally for, so long as they don’t break any of my normal shipping rules

Popular character you hate?Is Trevor popular? I can’t say I hate any Adam Scott character but......he grates

Unpopular(?) character you love?MINDY ST CLAIRE COME BACK YOU 80′s LESBIAN COKE FIEND

Would you recommend XXX to a friend? Why or why not?Oh absolutely - it is a very smart and very funny show

How would you end XXX/Would you change the ending of XXX?Literally nothing else matters to me so long as they dismantle the Place system and I get to see Tahani kiss a girl preferably Eleanor

Most shippable character?.......Tahani

Least shippable character?Michael

Salty Ask List

#ANYWAY WHEW #ask games #longpost #Anonymous

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