#I kind of think it's because of real pumpkin put into the coffee though. I like my pumpkin spice without random pumpkin thrown in. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

adelaidedrubman · 3 months

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OC INTERVIEW!

i was tagged by dears @g0dspeeed @cassietrn @direwombat @simplegenius042 @wrathfulrook to do a little oc interview, thank you dears! i decided to do this one for america’s sweetheart verse for acclaimed novelist jestiny ft. her long suffering publicist andrea who was mostly there to make sure there was some accurate information, then i decided to give her own spotlight. on that note, sorry for the length and needless preamble no expectation to read All That

“Ugh.” Jestiny grabs the wall to steady herself from stumbling at Andrea’s quick darting into the doorway to block her exit. “Are you fuckin’ serious? You’re really gonna tell me — a grown fucking woman — I’m not allowed to go play until I finish my homework?”

“It smells like you’ve gotten to play plenty today,” Andrea retorts with a nod towards the disposable coffee cup clenched in Jestiny’s fist and reeking with the unmistakable stench of high proof whiskey. “You’ve put off doing a simple introductory questionnaire for three months now. You’re never going to hire a ghostwriter if you can’t respond to an information request that takes five minutes.”

“I don’t need a ghostwriter,” she mumbles in protest as she takes a sip from her coffee cup that has never once contained coffee, or fooled anyone into thinking it did. “Just a copy editor.”

“Three copy editors have quit because you started using them as ghostwriters. And whatever job title you want to give them, they need some basic biographical information about you to work on your memoir.”

“See, that’s the thing, is no they don’t. Not with the kinda thing I’m writing. It’s all just empty fluff, don’t you —”

“Even for empty fluff, they need a vague skeleton,” Andrea snaps. She pulls Jestiny by the arm towards her desk, pushing her down into one of her guest chairs before taking her seat behind it and clicking a pen. “I canceled the car you called and changed the passwords to all your rideshare accounts. And we both know you couldn’t make it out of the parking garage without getting a DUI. You’re not going anywhere until this is done.”

“Oh, that’s real fuckin’ nice Andrea,” Jestiny hisses. “Hold hostage the woman who just survived —”

name

“jestiny ellen rook.”

nickname

“none. nope. never had one. never will have one. gotta say the whole thing every time. flaunt it in front of some motherfuckers who were too fucking dumb to ever figure it out.”

gender

“again, andrea — i am a grown fucking woman.”

star sign

“how the fuck am i supposed to know that shit?” without bothering to check her birthday, andrea writes down aries.

personality type

“america’s fuckin’ sweetheart, baby. kind, lovable, and humble. what else is there?’’ andrea’s hand moves of its own volition to scrawl out the words ‘dark triad,’ immediately scribbling it out to write down ‘istp’ and ‘8w7.’

height

“five foot five, ballpark.” andrea gives jestiny a skeptical look. “maybe closer to five-six, camera adds a half-inch.” andrea, actually 5’6, sighs and writes down 5’4, covering it with her hand to hide from jestiny.

orientation:

“c’mon, you don’t really have to ask that.” andrea dwells unwillingly on the menagerie of half-dressed strangers milling about jestiny’s home every time she steps into it. no, she doesn’t. “or lie to the press about it, if that’s what you’re dancing around. it’s 2018! america’s sweetheart can be openly bisexual, right?”

nationality/ethnicity:

“again. america’s fucking sweetheart, baby.”

fave fruit

“persimmons. don’t put that down, though, that information is for the fuckin’ benefit of your files, so you can get me a halfway decent fruit tray in my dressing room next talk show appearance. write some bullshit about how much i miss the fresh picked huckleberries of hope county and nowhere grows ’em better, or something.”

fave season

“awards! ha, we do have fun. gotta be fall, though. salmon run season. but pretend it’s for the sake of pumpkin spice whatever.”

fave flower

“psh. whatever happens to be in the bouquets i receive from my adoring fans. but if i have to pick, i guess, uh… forget-me-nots, maybe. or — heh, or cockscomb.”

fave scent

“whiskey.” andrea looks between jestiny and her cup, wondering if she has told the truth for the first time. “coffee, i mean.”

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate:

“i just said —”

average hours of sleep:

“eh, who can really keep track of that?” people who have to plan their sleep schedule around preventing jestiny from having unsupervised access to social media can and must keep track of that. andrea writes down 3 hours.

dog or cat person

“ew. no. opossums. but write down dog, that probably polls better. andrea, should i get a dog?” andrea vigorously shakes her head in the negative as she dutifully writes down dog.

dream trip

“heh. where do you have me booked for next? checked off a lotta the bucket list already. you’re looking at a dollywood gold pass holder. finally got to go there after a lifetime of dreaming, and it was —” andrea notes the way jestiny’s eyes suddenly glaze over, her gaze growing hollow and flat as she pauses in searching. “great. fulfilling. worth the wait. always ready to go back, or onto the next adventure. i mean, it’s such a fucking blessing, don’t you think?” andrea doesn’t answer, looking on with some concern as a hint of earnest joy creeps back into jestiny’s smile. “to have one’s full constitutional right to freedom of movement completely fuckin’ unrestricted?”

favorite fictional/real character

“uh, shrek.”

number of blankets you sleep with?

“as many as i want, baby! that’s another benefit of freedom, don’t have to settle for a single scratchy, paper thin excuse for a blanket to curl up on my cot with. i get to enjoy my forty-winks on silk sheets and soft as a cloud comforter, on my casper mattress —”

random fact:

“i know how to do a bit of sleight of hand magic.” andrea feels a light brush at her ear, and looks to see jestiny pulling from behind it a matchbook with the number of a taxi company stamped in bright yellow. “and for my next trick, i’m going to disappear.”

Andrea sighs as she watches Jestiny march out of her office yelling pick-up orders into her cellphone. It was successful for longer than she would have expected, she thinks, tapping the end of her pen against her bottom lip.

She clicks her pen a few times as she shuffles the papers on her desk, staring down at a blank copy of the questionnaire she’d made in case Jestiny was in foul enough spirits to rip up the first in defiance.

It would be nice, to have someone ask her things about who she was for once, she thinks, in an indulgent flight of fancy.

name:

“andrea simmons.”

nickname:

“...anal-retentive goldilocks, was the most recent one.”

gender

“woman, she/her.”

star sign

“capricorn.”

personality type

“estj. 3w2.’’

height

“five foot six. empirically verified.”

orientation:

“lesbian, last i had enough free time to check.”

nationality/ethnicity:

“american. primarily german and scandinavian ancestry.”

fave fruit

“nectarine, left to my own devices. learning to appreciate leftover cantaloupe picked around on fruit plates.”

fave season:

“summer. warm, sunny, long days.”

fave flower:

“orchids.”

fave scent

“lavender, jasmine, eucalyptus.”

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate:

“coffee. at least three shots of espresso. oat milk. two pumps of hazelnut syrup, no sugar.”

average hours of sleep:

“three. when you have an infant, you learn to sleep when they sleep.”

dog or cat person

“cats. otto curled up in my lap at the end of a long day is the only thing that keeps me going, sometimes.”

dream trip

“any trip. any trip alone. any trip alone without having to worry about what i will find when i come back. greece would be nice, i think.”

favorite fictional/real character

“peggy olson.”

number of blankets you sleep with?

“i have a weighted blanket and a quilt at home. and a fleece throw on my office couch that gets more use.”

random fact:

“i considered going into politics, and interned on a few campaign teams during college. There are many days i regret not following through on that.”

i know i’m super late to this, so major apologies for repetitive tags and extra no pressure out to the usuals @belorage @hctknives @fourlittleseedlings @galaxycunt @lordundying @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @afarcryfrommymain @poetikat @voidika @captastra @confidentandgood @deputyash @blissfulalchemist @shellibisshe @thedeadthree @nightbloodbix @miyabilicious @henbased @clicheantagonist @firstaidspray @strafethesesinners @jackiesarch @v0idbuggy @orionlancasterr @stacispratt @professorpineapple @strangefable @shallow-gravy @inafieldofdaisies @corvosattano @socially-awkward-skeleton opt in for tags on writing stuff here!

#america’s sweetheart verse back on my mind a lot lately i love you narratively satisfying character stagnation #v: america’s sweetheart #oc: deputy jestiny ellen #oc: andrea simmons

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aperrywilliams · 1 year

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Green Card - Ch2: The Arrangement (Spencer Reid x Fem!OC)

Author Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Previous chapter < > Next chapter

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!OC (Ana María González)

Series summary: What reason leads two complete strangers to marry? For Spencer, the chance of his mom being admitted into a new medical trial. For Ana María González is to get the elusive green card.

Chapter summary: Ana is mad after talking with Spencer, and he wants to apologize. But at some point, Spencer's crazy offer doesn't seem that crazy.

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: None I can think of.

A/N: Chapter 2 is here. I’m back with the series. Let me know what you think.

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What the hell was he thinking?

When Spencer got to his apartment, the rush of the previous hours subsided. That led to deep regret for what he did.

He insulted Ana. He wanted to take advantage of her need to fulfill his own. What kind of man does that? Spencer felt terrible and barely slept. Tossing and turning, his main worry wasn't his mother's medical treatment anymore. It was how badly he acted with Ana. He needed to apologize for it. He would do it the next day. If he were lucky enough, the team wouldn't be called on a case, and he could go to the coffee shop to talk to her.

When Ana woke up the following morning, she didn't want to get up. A headache settled as she opened her eyes. Good thing her shift didn't start before noon. That gave her some time to feel a bit better before work.

But as soon as she entered the coffee shop, Sarah jumped to ask her questions, and Ana was convinced her headache would return quickly.

"How come the Pumpkin-pie-guy came after you yesterday, and you didn't call me to tell me? Did he ask you out? I knew he only had eyes for you. I assume you gave him your number. When is your first date?"

Ana rolled her eyes and huffed. This was the least she wanted: being reminded of her awful moment with Spencer the day before.

"Sarah, please, stop. I'm not in the mood," the girl groaned, passing by her coworker and heading to the kitchen. But Sarah didn't give up and followed her.

"Oh, come on. Won't you tell me anything? It's not fair!"

Ana halted and turned to look at Sarah sternly.

"Okay. Do you want to know? The only thing I'll tell you is the guy is a jerk - un real estúpido - like every man in this world. Period," she grumbled, grabbing her apron from the hook to put on.

"What did he do? Did he do something to you? Oh, that bastard! If he did something, I'm going to kill him!" Sarah threatened. Ana sighed, shooking her head.

"No, no. The guy didn't ‘do’ anything to me. I mean, he just behaved like a jackass. That's all. I'm okay," Ana reassured Sarah before grabbing some cutlery and cups to put on the rack.

Sarah didn't know if pushing it was a good idea, so she kept silent and stopped asking questions. It's not she didn't want to know everything, but Ana looked so disappointed and sad. She decided to keep her mouth shut, just for now.

Ana tried to focus on work that day. The hustle and bustle in the coffee shop were enough to keep her head on it and not on her problems, at least for a couple of hours.

For Spencer, though, trying to focus on the job didn't work. While the stack of paperwork was huge, it didn't stop him from dwelling on the events of the previous day over and over again.

On the one hand, he needed to get used to the idea his mom would lose her chance in the clinical trial because he could not fulfill a little requirement. Maybe 'little' was an understatement, but Spencer kept telling himself it was a stupid requirement after all.

On the other hand, his mind wandered to the fact he acted like an idiot with Ana due to his desperation. He hated himself for that.

JJ's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Why so pensive?" she asked, sitting before him. Spencer didn't feel like talking, but it was JJ, his friend. Shifting in his seat, he leaned back, and his arms slumped to his sides.

"My mom,” he prefaced. “Remember the medical trial I mentioned last month?" JJ nodded. "They rejected the application."

An empathetic look formed on JJ’s face after hearing Spencer.

"Oh, Spence. I'm so sorry. When did this happen?" she asked, leaning to talk to Spencer, not speaking too loud.

"Yesterday,” he cringed, remembering his meeting with Fogarty.

"I'm so sorry. But Spencer, I'm sure you'll find another way. If it is not this one, you'll find another," JJ assured him.

Comfort words? Yeah. Spencer appreciated the worry, yet it wasn't handy for his predicament.

"Hope so," Spencer shrugged.

"I know you will," she patted his shoulder. "Hey, changing the subject, we will grab lunch with Luke and Matt now. You coming?"

Spencer checked his watch. He guessed Ana had started her shift by now. Could it be a good idea to show up now? Better sooner than later, he thought.

"I'm sorry. I have to be somewhere else," Spencer apologized, standing and clutching his satchel. If Spencer noticed JJ's frown after his answer, he let it pass. It was better not to give details.

Entering the coffee shop, Spencer first noticed the hustle of lunchtime. Sarah and Ana were moving from side to side, taking orders and carrying trays.

Shit, maybe he picked the wrong moment.

When Ana saw him, a visible huff left her mouth. Spencer tried to approach, but Sarah stopped him.

"Not so fast, pal."

"I'm sorry, but I - I would like to - to have a word with Ana?" Spencer stuttered.

"She is busy. So I am. If you want to order something, take a sit and wait," Sarah pointed to a corner where there was an empty table.

Sarah’s harsh tone told Spencer she knew about the day before, so he didn't push his luck. Nodding, he went to the table and sat. Another girl, Collin, came to take his order. He asked for his usual coffee.

He would wait. It was the least he could do.

As the patrons left the coffee shop one by one, Spencer's eyes focused on the main counter and the kitchen door.

Ana noticed how Spencer didn't move a muscle in the past hour. She tried to avoid looking at him, but since Sarah confirmed he wanted to talk to her, it wasn't easy to forget he was there.

"Maybe he wants to admit he fucked it up," Sarah hypothesized.

"Or maybe he wants to keep being a jackass," Ana pointed. Her coworker raised an eyebrow, thinking about how bad the previous day's encounter must have been to see Ana so defensive.

"You'll never know if you don't talk to him.”

Sarah had a point. Would Ana’s curiosity be stronger enough to give in and talk to Spencer? The answer's ‘yes.’

"Okay, fine. But if the guy insists on acting like a jerk, I’ll kick his ass, and I don't care if the cops come to get me,” Ana warned before walking out of the kitchen.

As she strolled in Spencer's direction, Ana swept her hands over her apron.

Spencer’s eyes widened when he noticed her.

"I thought I let myself very clear yesterday,” she said without prompt.

Spencer gulped and cleared his throat.

"Yes. Yes, you were. In fact, I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have done what I did. Can I have a word with you to explain myself? I don't want you to think I'm a total asshole, even when I acted like one yesterday. Please?"

The girl narrowed her eyes. Believe him or not?

Even if Ana didn't want to discuss the topic again, she wondered what he could possibly tell her.

"This is not a trick or something? Like a way to insist on your weird petition?"

Spencer shook his head vigorously.

"No! I promise. It's not that. Believe me. I just want to explain.”

Ana considered Spencer’s words for a second.

"Okay. Fine. I have a little break right now. But let's talk outside. I don't want the peanut gallery watching,” she suggested, seeing from the corner of her eye how Collin and Sarah were looking at them.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

They walked outside and far from the coffee shop windows. The street wasn't busy, so it was a decent spot to talk.

Apologizing for the umpteenth time, Spencer recounted what happened in the meeting with Fogarty and what led to his weird petition. Not in deep detail, but he told enough, so Ana had a picture of why his poor behavior.

"So you thought marrying was a good idea?" Ana asked the man.

"I would say just an idea more than a good one," Spencer pointed, shrugging. Ana chuckled.

"Yeah. You're right."

Spencer felt somewhat relieved for Ana listening to him, and Ana even felt empathy for the guy in front of her.

"Please, can you forgive me? It was totally out of line and - and I feel so embarrassed. I never wanted to offend you.”

Ana kept silent for a moment, pondering Spencer's words. He waited expectantly.

"Supposing you're telling me the truth, I think I could understand,” she decided. Spencer nodded faster enough to converge his following words.

"I do! It's the truth. And I'm so sorry to bring this to you. You have your own problems to deal with.”

Ana cringed at the mention of it.

"Don't remind me, please.”

"I’m so sorry. I didn't -”

Spencer hastened to apologize.

How come he keeps fucking it up?

Ana saw Spencer's terrified look and didn't want him to collapse from the nerves.

"It's okay. Really. In fact, I think it's sweet of you. I mean, what you were willing to do for your mom,” she explained. Spencer exhaled.

"And desperate," he added. Ana chuckled at his own teasing.

"I'm not in a position to judge."

"It's okay; you can say it.”

Spencer’s shoulders slumped, knowing it was true. He was entirely desperate.

"I mean, yeah. It's weird, but if it were about my mom, I would have done anything for her, so I understand,” Ana conceded.

"Really?" Spencer asked in disbelief. Ana nodded solemnly.

"Yeah. Really."

"Thanks, it makes me feel better. For real.”

It was the truth. Knowing the girl felt some empathy for him and was not disgusted made him feel slightly better.

"No problem."

Spencer knew Ana was a good person. If it had been anyone else, he would have gotten his ass kicked, and with good reason. It was a shame she was struggling as well.

Spencer's phone ringtone broke the silence. The caller id showed Penelope's name. Spencer gave Ana an apologetic look.

"Sorry, I have to take this one."

"Don't apologize. Go ahead," she gestured to the device in Spencer's hand.

"Garcia, what's up?"

Ana looked to the side to not snoop on Spencer's call, although she was. Once Spencer finished, she knew what it was about.

"Work?" she asked for confirmation. Spencer nodded.

"Yeah. I have to go. Again, please, forgive my attitude from yesterday. I didn't want to bother you."

"It's okay. I totally get it,” Ana reassured him.

"Thank you. I got to go. See you around?" Spencer asked before leaving.

"You know where to find me," she quipped.

“Yeah. Right. See you then.”

Ana watched as Spencer walked away. She no longer believed he was a complete crackpot. A weird guy? Yes. But she could understand his reasons and even empathize with them.

That night in her bedroom, Ana rescued Spencer's business card from the trash can and put it on her nightstand—a symbolic act of reconciliation with the man.

Things could have stayed there, but Ana was not that lucky. A few days after what happened with Spencer, she came to work her usual shift when her boss approached her.

"Ana, you got this," Logan announced, handing her an envelope with a government stamp.

'Dear Miss Gonzalez,

Hoping this letter finds you well, we inform you that your reconsideration request for your residence application has been rejected. This means you must leave North American soil in the next two weeks unless you submit new information within your petition.'

Suddenly she felt as if the air had become heavy, and she was having trouble breathing. Ana's eyes scanned over and over the letters of the fateful letter. She had been rejected again, and worse yet, she had a deadline to leave the country. She had no further options of appeal. Everything had gone to hell.

"Ana, are you okay?" Logan asked.

She didn't want to explain what was happening, so she nodded, saying everything was fine and that she would get ready to start work.

And so she did, but there was no way she could concentrate. In her head, the only thing spinning was the idea that this was the end. That she had failed, and all was lost.

At the end of the day, Sarah walked over to her, knowing something had happened. That's when Ana broke and ended up crying in her arms.

"Hey, sweetheart. What's wrong? You can tell me," the girl encouraged Ana, who couldn't stop sobbing.

“Me rechazaron de nuevo. Tendré que irme del país (I got rejected again. I'll have to leave)." In her misery, Ana didn't bother to speak in English. That wasn't an issue for Sarah, though. She had been learning Spanish with Ana, and it wasn't difficult to understand why the girl was so upset.

"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry to hear that."

“¿Qué hice para merecer esto? Mis papeles están en regla. Tengo un trabajo. No estoy pidiendo vivir gratis! (What did I do to deserve this? I have everything in order. I have a job. I’m not asking to live here for free!).”

"You have done all good, sweetheart; it is not your fault. It's unfair. Life is unfair."

Ana is not one of those people who like to show their vulnerability. But these circumstances were already overtaking her. Besides, Sarah was the only one who knew more about her coming to North America. Only a few details, but enough to understand this was important to her.

"Come on, let's go to my apartment. I'll make some tea," Sarah offered.

Ana thanked her. She didn't want to be alone in a moment like this.

At Sarah's place, Ana regained some composure. She wasn't crying anymore but left an extreme bitterness.

"Must be something you can do. Are you sure you can't plead again?"

"I can't. At least if my current situation doesn't change. I think I should get used to the idea of leaving," Ana shrugged. Sarah bit her lower lip. She wanted to say something, but maybe Ana won't take it so well.

"What?" she asked. Sarah shook her head. "There is something, Sarah. Just spill it out."

"You still have the pumpkin-pie guy’s offer," she muttered. Ana sighed.

"No. I don't. I told you the guy apologized for it. It would be nonsense of me to say I am interested now," Ana pointed out. That made Sarah raise an eyebrow.

"Does that mean you're interested now?" she asked.

"That's not the point. The poor man was already feeling bad enough when he did apologize," she recounted.

"Well, these are extenuating circumstances. Don't you think?"

Ana thought about it. Why? She was desperate, and she didn't want to leave the country. But what if Spencer rejected her now? He could do that. He had the right to, as she did weeks ago.

That night the poor girl didn't sleep. Holding on to a miracle, she hoped the following day everything would be okay in the blink of an eye.

Spoiler alert: it didn't.

Sighing first, Ana took the card and dialed Spencer's number.

"Spencer? Hey, it's Ana from the coffee shop. I'm sorry for calling, but can you talk?"

Spencer was surprised when he got the call and was deeply curious about what she wanted to talk about.

The girl sounded distressed, and even he could tell she was crying, but he didn't want to ask so as not to make her uncomfortable. Both agreed to meet in a park near the coffee shop that afternoon. Fortunately, Spencer wasn't called on a case so that he could meet up with her after work.

When Spencer arrived at the place they agreed, he spotted Ana sitting on a bench, her eyes staring at the dirty floor. He couldn't help but wonder how a young girl, so beautiful and with such a good heart, could have such a troubled life. Yes, maybe he didn't know her well enough, but years doing his job have taught him a lot about how invisible the weight people usually carry on their shoulders can seem to the world.

He was sure Ana was one of those people with a crude past, but even with that, her smile never faded.

"Hi, I hope I'm not too late," Spencer apologized. Hearing his voice, Ana tilted her head to look at him and smiled. But it was a different smile: a weary one with sadness in her eyes.

"No, you're perfectly on time. Sorry for calling you so suddenly."

"Don't worry about that. Can I sit there," Spencer asked, pointing to the empty spot on the bench.

"Sure. Of course," Ana conceded. Spencer sat with his hands on his lap, shifting awkwardly when Ana didn't start the conversation.

The girl knew she needed to say something, but words were stuck in her throat. Spencer noticed but didn't want to push. Analyzing her micro-expressions, he could tell she was scared and conflicted. Spencer had a feeling about what was going on.

"Well. I'm sure you're waiting for me to tell you why I called you. It's uhm - I don't know how to phrase it. I feel a little hypocritical, if I have to be honest. I mean, yeah, it's kind of embarrassing. Jeez, I don't even know how to explain myself," she let out a nervous chuckle.

Spencer's expression was soft and attentive. He kept his mouth shut, giving Ana all the needed time, but the girl freaked out and decided to give up.

"It's uhm - you know? I'm sorry for making you come. Maybe I shouldn't have," Ana hastened to say, standing from the bench. She was losing her nerve and just wanted to run away.

Spencer stood too, his profiling skills paying off to this point.

Before Ana could walk away, Spencer spoke.

"You got rejected," he inferred.

Ana halted but didn't dare to turn to see him. But she nodded nonetheless.

"I'm sorry," Spencer mumbled.

"Yeah, me too," she sighed, feeling the tears pricking her eyes.

Spencer positioned in front of her. Ana didn't walk away though she didn't make eye contact with him.

"You know? I really thought it would work this time. Even I was looking for an apartment, making plans," Ana lamented with a notorious heaviness in her words.

Tentatively her gaze found his. Spencer caught sight of the tears pouring from her eyes. It pained him, and he didn't know what to do, even if it wasn't his fault.

"I'm so sorry. It's unfair," he muttered with an apologetic look.

What else could he say? What else without addressing the clear reason that made Ana call him?

"Yeah. I think so too. But it is what it is. Right? Life is unfair," Ana concluded, wiping the tears with her thumbs. "I'm sorry I made you come here for this. I - uh - I don't know what I was thinking," she mumbled, averting his gaze.

Spencer sighed. He did know what she was thinking.

"You were considering my crazy offer. Am I right?" Spencer pointed, gauging Ana's reaction.

She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing a hole in the floor could swallow her whole.

"I told you it was hypocritical from me," she admitted. Spencer shook his head.

"I don't think it is. I know it's a crazy idea, but you have your reasons to consider it, and I'm not going to judge you. No, when it was me who suggested it in the first place," Spencer told Ana, tilting his head to catch her gaze.

"It's more than a crazy idea. It's delusional. But I can't stop thinking about it as my last chance," Ana confessed.

Which was true. Since she got the letter and Sarah brought it, Ana hadn't stopped thinking it might be her only option. Maybe Spencer's offer was some kind of sign about what she needed to do.

"I'm not the best person advising on this matter, so I'll just say my offer still stands," the man pointed. Ana's eyes widened.

"What? Even after I mistreated you for suggesting it?"

Spencer nodded.

"Yes. Because it was reasonable for you to do it, and I think even so, we deserve a chance to get what we both want," Spencer said.

'What we both want.' Ana knew Spencer had a point. It was something beneficial for both of them. Besides, the guy didn't look like a bad person, if not someone as desperate as her. The more she thought about it, the less absurd it seemed.

"You really think this would work? For both of us?"

Ana no longer felt defensive about the topic. Now she was looking for the confirmation she needed to make a final decision instead.

"Yes. You need it. I need it. I can help you, and you can help me. It's uh - an agreement between two grown-up people."

Although Spencer seemed like he was saying these words to convince Ana, in the end, he was telling them to convince himself of his own offer.

"Yeah. An agreement between two grown-up people," she repeated. Spencer could see the gears running inside her head. It was a giant leap, but Ana told herself not back down this time.

"Alright. This being so, then I will do it. I'll marry you so you can get the spot for your mom, and I can get my green card."

Ana held out her hand to seal the deal. Spencer nodded, smiling, and reached to shake her hand.

The pact was sealed.

Both Spencer and Ana should have been relieved after the agreement. And they were, in part. But this could be more complicated than they expected it to be. They hoped not, though.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid series #green card #the arrangement #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid x oc

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bingoboingobongo · 1 year

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task force 141 + favorite starbucks holiday drinks

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, John "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Warnings: none

A/N: bc the 'alpha males only drink black coffee' mentality is stupid. give these men a creme brulee latte. also can u tell im running out of ideas (help)

simon "ghost" riley:

yeah yeah ik i said this was gonna be starbucks holiday drinks but guys you really think simon's the kinda guy to order a sugar cookie pumpkin spice creme brulee apple strudel frappucino?

yeah that's what i thought

the others will all follow the theme tho i swear

but for now let's talk about simon

he doesn't drink starbucks very much but when he does he usually has two go to drinks

a steamed apple juice or a london fog tea latte

he'll get the latte hot or cold depending on the weather ofc

his favorite thing to do is cozy up with a nice book and a warm drink from starbucks especially during the winter months

and bc he's an environmentally conscious king (and because he has a reputation to maintain let's be real) he always brings his own black tumbler for the drink

also i don't know why but i like to think that he has a bunch of starbucks gift cards from random holidays over the years

so he hasn't spent his own money on starbucks in months

he also never orders in person

and he puts down another name for his order too

sometimes ghost will order a hot chocolate though

but they have a tendency to be really sweet so they're not his favorite

john "soap" mactavish:

alright so i feel like soap's go to holiday drinks is the irish cream cold brew

also before i explain why why is no one talking about the shadows constantly calling soap a leprechaun and an irish person?

like it happens multiple times during the alone mission and it's so funny

anyways

what can i say soaps a cold foam kind of guy

he's just like me frfr

honestly he really doesn't have much of a sweet tooth (at least when it comes to coffee) and he feels like the slight sweetness of the cold foam mixed with the bitter cold brew makes the perfect coffee sweetness

also soap's the kind of person to get iced drinks no matter the weather

like it could be snowing and hailing and he'd still get his iced coffee

he also asks for extra cold foam

bc he likes those first few sips where all you get is the foam before the coffee starts mixing in

also off topic but soap also went feral during the free red cup day

like you know he dropped everything to grab one before they ran out

he's done it everytime they do it and he's so scared that he's gonna miss his streak because of work some day

kyle "gaz" garrick:

alright so maybe it's sorta simple but in gaz's opinion you can never go wrong with an iced peppermint mocha

i mean the name itself just screams holidays

and the flavor speaks for itself

gaz is just a fan of chocolate in general though

and he actually doesn't really like coffee, so the sweetness of the chocolate is nice because it combats the bitterness of the coffee

he also really likes peppermint so it works out too

like you know those peppermint chocolates you get from olive garden?

he eats those up oml

he also only puts in one shot of espresso

because a lot of caffeine makes him anxious

also he doesn't like staying awake at night most of the time

plus he always gets less whipped cream

it's surprising but he's honestly not that much of a fan

that being said though, you can't have a mocha without whipped cream

so he'll oblige a little bit

john price:

alrighty so price's favorite drink is a caramel brulee frappucino

and i am very confident in saying that

i don't really know why but i just feel like he would enjoy it

i like to think that the first time he had it was when someone else went on a coffee run and he told them to just get him whatever

so they got him this and now he's obsessed

he's always been a fan of caramel so it only makes sense

like he goes ham on the caramel

people have told him to just get a caramel frappucino instead but he never does

so instead he gets the caramel brulee frappe with caramel sauce, syrup, drizze

the whole nine yards

i mean price has a sweet tooth what can i say

he needs something to balance out the flavor of all those cigars he smokes

and yes gaz and the others always makes fun of price whenever he gets his drink

but price doesn't even care he is living his best life

he also definitely gets a reindeer cake pop too whenever he goes

the chestnut praline latte is definitely a close second for price tho

but he likes the texture of a frappucino over a latte

alejandro vargas:

okay so honestly ik it's kinda basic but alejandro is a hot chocolate kinda guy

i mean it's like the most iconic holiday drink there is

besides like eggnog or smthing but tbh i always forget eggnog is a thing

anyways hot chocolate is always like the thing to get alejandro in the holiday spirit

it brings him back to making ibarra hot chocolate with his family as a kid

ofc starbucks hot chocolate is not as good as ibarra

but hot chocolate is hot chocolate and it gets the job done in a pinch

one time he tried adding cinnamon to the starbucks hot chocolate to make it more like ibarra

man to this day he doesn't know what he did wrong but he knows something was wrong bc it did not taste like ibarra at all

it tasted worse than it started too

that was truly disappointing

he also likes getting a sandwich or croissant from the bakery too as a light snack

rodolfo "rudy" parra:

alright so this one is easy

and honestly like the first one i thought of

but rudy lives for the sugar cookie almond milk latte

i also like to think that rudy tends to run pretty cold (especially during the winter) and so he gets the hot version and holds it in his hands with his sleeve pulled to his fingertips and let's the steam warm him up

while he does like a little dance to try and keep himself warm

i mean what can i say rudy is like the epitome of having a sweet tooth

plus he really likes sugar cookies so it works out

like he loves those soft sugar cookies you get at walmart (the lofthouse cookies)

also rudy is lactose intolerant

ur welcome all my lactose intolerant readers out there he's ur representation

idk man i just feel like that makes sense to me

and bc like the rest of you lactose intolerant lunatics he's incapable of actually avoiding dairy (seriously you guys have a problem) he has a bunch of lactaids in one of the pockets of his vest

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ozimagines · 3 months

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dating ryan o’reily would include . . PRETTY PLEASE !!!! 🤌

Oh absolutely. The appearance of the please is inconsequential lol I’ve always wanted to write this. The key to Ryan O’Reily is he puts his whole pussy into everything he does, and I feel like dating him would be more of the same. I present to the council:

Dating Ryan O’Reily would include…

The key to this man is obsession

Could be your looks, could be something you said, could be something you did for him; it doesn’t matter. Once he’s hooked, he’s hooked.

Will jokingly flirt at first, making quick passes at you, but he’s a flirty guy so you just assume it’s another O’Reily-ism

“Lookin’ good today… very good.”🥵

That is until you notice all your stuff starting to disappear.

It’s little things at first; a hat of yours, some makeup, but then you notice one of the pillows on your bed is missing

Bring it up and he’ll deny it, but he wanted to own some part of you

The real kicker is when you meet Cyril

Cyril immediately distrusts you; he remembers Ryan and the bad lady (Howell)

But you’re kind and gentle with him, and better yet, you don’t talk around him like he’s an object. You talk to him. And he notices these things.

“I like you… can we be friends?”🥹

When Ryan comes down the stairs to meet you, you and Cyril are talking like old friends, watching Miss Sally and discussing if Nooter or Pecky is better.

At this point, Ryan is more in love with you than ever.

He tells you as much, not bothering to ask you on a date before confessing his love.

“Hey, I love you. I love you more than anything.”💘

(If you’re same sex, he’ll insist he’s not a “fag” but say he loves you all the same, hoping you “know the difference🧐”)

It… it’s a bit much. Even for you, who feels the same.

You ask if you can take it slow.

He says yes yes yes and then tells everyone you’re in love and will be together forever🤣

He remembers all your food orders. Like, down to food restrictions and preferences on toppings lol.

Anything you don’t like, he’ll eat for you and give you his meal.

“Yeah, one Venti iced pumpkin spice latte with oat milk, three pumps of pumpkin, one pump vanilla, cold foam, and a sprinkle of cinnamon. And one regular coffee, I guess.” 🤣

Kind of a guy who when he stops quickly or short in the car, he puts out his arm over your chest to stop you from lurching forward.🥲

Dates are always epic and wild

He took you to a fair and won you and Cyril the biggest stuffed animals they have; you can barely carry it, but it’s a point of honor for him.

He took you to the zoo (lots of your dates include Cyril) and put you up on the rails over the lion pit, him being the only thing stopping you from going over.

Talk about trust lol

Ryan fucks like a beast but he makes love as well

Cotton sheets and candles lit, Ryan’s lips grazing over your body.

He holds you gently, like he holds Cyril after nightmares, kissing you all over.

Ryan, like many guys in Oz, just wanted to a chance to do over his life❤️‍🩹

And you gave it to him. Everything. His everything.

He wants kids with you, adopted or otherwise. Starts calling you mommy/daddy to get you on board

Cyril gets very excited to be and uncle, and even though you were worried about him being gentle with a kid, Cyril holds them like a mama bear holds a baby cat😅

Ryan had to learn some things, like not to smoke around the baby and that kids can go into poker houses🙃

He still teaches his kid to play poker and pick a lock because “you never know, right?”

You find him staring at you a lot, and when you ask what he’s thinking, all he says is “I’m lucky, that’s all.”

“I love you. I love you with everything I have.”

“Love you too, Ryan.”

Bonus: Ryan loves Sitcoms! He’ll never say it out loud, but he likes dis-functional families that all still love each other. He tears up every time a show ends. His favorite is Cheers, because he identifies with Sam Malone.

#hbo oz #oz meme #ryan oreily #cyril o’reily #this one was fun to write #when I watched the first episode I was like… Dennis Duffy got mean😂#but you know he has a lucrative insurance job after tho🤪#Ryan my sweet #ya freak people out with your intensity #ask me anything

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hauntedhousecat · 2 years

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Your turn! What are you and your favorite doing on your day off?

And here's koalas just because <3

WHAAAA?! I didn't get a notification for this one!!!! :(

BUT I SEE IT NOW!!!

Hmmmmm...... For Levi and I, a day off would probably be nothing to write home about. Lol

I can imagine that maybe if we sleep at all the night before a day off we'd probably stay in bed for maybe an hour later than normal before I finally get up feeling guilty about not feeding the cats.

Once we get up for the day we make a nice breakfast in the kitchen with a hot cup of coffee and tea. I don't usually eat a lot of meat but since this is a rare day off I might bust out my vegan sausage patties and real sausage patties (Maple-flavored only for the real ones...:P) Levi actually liked them though the vegan patties took him a bit to warm up to if only because he kept accidentally picking them over the real ones on our breakfast meat plate. I usually get spicy vegan sausages/patties so he'd take a bite and his eyes would water at first because he wasn't expecting the heat. (poor guy. ) After breakfast, we'd get ready for the day and probably do a few things around the house before heading out to probably go to the orchard about forty minutes from our home. (providing it's open) There's a market there that we peruse for any new kinds of goodies we want to try in our recipes/concoctions. They sell delicious pies there too and of course, we have to get a dutch apple pie because we both like it. I tell him for the hundredth time that I'd like to go to the fair in fall that serves everything pumpkin (Pumpkin chili, pumpkin ice cream, pumpkin doughnuts, pumpkin coffee, pumpkin pie, pumpkin cheesecake....etc.) to which he just smirks and tells me 'he knows'...he's even got the date marked on his calendar so we can make a point of going. He doesn't get it, it tastes all like regular food to him....but he takes me anyways to see me get so excited about the food and riled up at the length of the line which stretches through the entire fair ground and beyond by a bit.... He hates the crowd but he goes anyways.... I derailed... BACK to the train of thought.... We go to the orchard and pick out apples and a pie along with a few other tasty treats before heading home to feed our squirrels and wild hares. Once we're inside from the squirrels I think we would work on a puzzle together before I pull out some of my artsy/crafty stuff and work on a few projects...Levi helping with a few of them when I ask for his advice....or when he decides he wants to give a go at whatever it is I'm doing. He's surprised he actually enjoys a few of my artsy/craftsy hobbies. Once we're done with that we will start feeding the cats dinner before working on our own dinner. And since we have dessert already we don't have to look too hard at our dinner menu. Just the movie selections for the night.

It completely depends on what we're in the mood for or who's had a worse day. Like if I had a really really bad day I don't think Levi would even hesitate he'd put on George of the Jungle and if he had a really really bad day I would put on his favorite movie....one of. Mary Poppins usually or saving Mr. Banks depending on the day and if he has two really bad days in a row. If he has three in a row then we might go down a different rabbit hole and veer off into things like Adam West Batman.

If he wants serious then probably The Dark Knight (since I imagine he'd be a Batman fan..... Out of Marvel probably Captain America or Bruce Banner.....In my opinion.) But since this is a good day and both of us have enjoyed ourselves to varying degrees (He'd be lying if he said he had a bad day though he does try to pretend he did for a little bit for a bit of an extra snuggle...) we'd watch something we hadn't watched in awhile. We wind up each picking a movie and watching both of them because he wanted to watch a period drama and I wanted to watch Robin Hood Men In Tights....so we watch both and have a great time! Then it's play with the cats time!

If it's closer to a holiday he might take me to the orchestra if there's one performing nearby (Nearby being a major city a few hours away...) or to a ballet or play if it's one I want to see or he wants to see.

We make plans to go see the farthest reaches of what we can plan (next week) and go over our vacation plans we've been setting money aside for so we can have a great vacation. On which, Hange, Erwin, Moblit, and co have tracked us down so we won't get a moment's peace....but that's a future time.

Once we've discussed that we get ready for bed and adjourn to the room where Levi picks up a book and hands it to me to read for tonight since we take turns on who reads. Tonight is my night so I pick up where he left off the night before after a moment of deliberation and running our fingers over the pages to try figuring out what line he'd read last.

Overall it's a great day! THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN ELIZA!!!!

#House cats fence friends #postwarlevi #character imagines with house cat #levi x house cat #levi x kat/cat #Katvi!#All of our squirrels and rabbits/hares have names #and thank you for the koala's I love koala's!!!!X3

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kinetic-elaboration · 1 year

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January 20: Halloween II (2009)

I had really low expectations for Halloween II (2009) but honestly... I liked it. I liked it more than Halloween (2007) I think because it didn't tie itself to the 1981 movie but just continued and expanded on its own story. I wasn't constantly comparing it to something else. Even though these are the only two Rob Zombie films I've ever seen, this one felt more confidently him to me... although he did disown it and hated the studio restrictions on his work lol so maybe I'm objectively wrong about this.

I liked that it was experimental and weird and that it went out there and did things that the other Halloweens don't usually do, that slashers don't usually do imo. The dream sequences, which felt more like real dreams, following the sort of logic of dreams and with those extremely fast and disorienting cuts, were very striking and unique. For all that Laurie and Michael are related in most of the Halloween films, not that much is really done with that connection imo. It's presumably Michael's motivation, though why it should be his motivation is kinda hand waved off, and it can affect Laurie's psychology at times. Arguably. The Michael-Jamie uncle-niece connection is stronger and probably the closest to Halloween II (2009) but I felt like this went farther to play with what that could mean. It felt to me like throwing paint against a wall, a sort of abstract meditation on connection, rather than anything very specific, but I didn't mind that. The dreams are shared, the hallucinations are shared--is she infected with whatever infected him? Do they have a psychic connection? Does she put on his mask at the end to become him? What does it mean that she takes it off again? Is that what the mom hallucination meant by bringing her home: breaking her with the sight of violence, inducing her to kill, too, creating a new killer in her? Not really clear but there's a consistent kinda smudged bloody vibe about it. Which I did not hate.

Having the seizures (that's what I think they were) be part of this and having Laurie ultimately hold herself captive was also an interesting aspect.

I also enjoyed the setting and the way the town was made to look. It wasn't the same sort of Haddonfield as 1978--perhaps closer to Halloween VI or the opening of H20--I'm not sure how to describe it but maybe it was just it being shot in Georgia. More East Coast, and thus familiar to me. The autumn colors, the knitwear (when it was light enough to see it), the criminally underused coffee shop/bookstore set, the historical signs, the Main Street downtown, the nearby very rural area with houses beyond the sight of other houses, and the GIANT PUMPKIN OH YEAH were all so beautifully done. I kind of wish there had been more of that aesthetic in a way.

Even though the film was a continuation of 2007 rather than a remake of Halloween II, it did have some nice callbacks and connections to the 1981 film. The hospital sequence at the beginning, of course--and how it was a fake out that you were watching another remake--but also the dream sequences, which are a pretty noticeable and rather unusual part of Halloween II (1981). Expanding those out to be a major element of the film was a smart twist, I thought.

I had mixed feelings about Laurie... on the one hand, her characterization was pretty obviously made up for this film, because she really didn't match in any way the Laurie Strode of Halloween 1978 or any other Jamie Lee Curtis Halloween that I've seen. She felt in some ways just like a generic teenage girl with trauma--she's graffiti-ed her bathroom and she wears dark, ripped clothing and she just wants to party, guys!!!! It wasn't the worst, it just felt like this character could have any name and be any person.

On the other hand... okay, I'm not fond of reboots trying to make things 'more realistic,' partly because that tends to means 'needlessly grim for the #realism' and partly because whatever is being rebooted was in its original form probably stylized and it seems a sort of simplistic, tone-deaf thing, to discount the value of the style and say 'well but it should be REALISTIC tho.' BUT... Laurie's reactions were in many ways more realistic here and I liked that she got that opportunity to show emotions we didn't see in Halloween II (1981). Partly that was because that film was a same-night continuation, so we don't see Laurie process the trauma with a little more time in the rear view. We only see her still in shock and, for a lot of the film, still fighting for her life. But part of it is also that she's just an ensemble character in the 1981 film. She remembers Michael is her brother and it's more about giving that information to the audience than about her reaction. I liked that here she got to scream and cry and consider it so unfair! She's right about that.

I liked the characters of Annie and Chief Brackett, and I liked the weird little family they had formed with Laurie. I felt a real fondness for them and their home--even if they do eat dinner in the fucking dark for literally no reason I guess.

Finally, the Michael Myers mask and costuming and so on was very good. The griminess of the mask, even the tears in it, really added to the design.

There were some things I didn't like. Primarily, although the way the hallucinations were presented was interesting, the content of them was frustrating. Yet again it's the mom's fault I guess. I almost wondered if it was supposed to be a Psycho situation in way: he transforms the part of himself that wants to do violence into a vision of his 'beautiful ghost' mom, who encourages him, directs him, and gives him an excuse for his behavior. She certainly did not have the personality of his real mom. But still, associating his worst impulses with female imagery and implying some sort of twisted mother/son relationship or maternal feelings in the son are the reason for this Pure Evil character is pretty tired to me and I'm just not interested in that take at all. Again, Michael Myers does not need an explanation or a motivation.

And I thought this take on Loomis was pretty bad. As a character, he certainly had nothing to do with Pleasence's Loomis. In addition to be extremely annoying, and racking up a lot of screen time being insufferable, transforming him into a purely selfish profiteer makes the character quite useless. Yeah, his book revealed to Laurie that she was born a Myers, but there are other devices to get that information out. And Loomis shows up at the end to sort of save the day, but that could have as easily been Brackett in this particular film. Loomis in the early Halloweens was a siren and a detective, a voice of reason that sounds like a voice of hysteria--he tells people things that are impossible, that Michael is back, that he is unstoppable, that he is out there right now, and he sounds completely unhinged, but he's RIGHT. He reminds us that we are not in a world that plays by normal world rules, no matter how much the other characters think it dos. Yes, he can be way too aggressive in this role, and he is not a perfect person or faultless character. But he's a flawed hero, not a villain. If you're not going to use him to sound the Michael alarm (he literally said Michael was dead! unrealistic! blocked and reporter), to stalk Michael through the town while other victims are oblivious--if he's not your Van Helsing--why even include him? It felt like they came at him with the idea 'we need to have Loomis so what can we do to distinguish ourselves as a reboot' and less from the perspective of 'what is the character doing, what roles is he fulfilling in the narrative?'

But overall, not at all the worst in my opinion.

And after this there was a nine year break and then... I am so excited to see the new trilogy!

#the year 2023 #2023: movies

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genshin-impact-writings · 3 years

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hi there! may i request small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream? childe x reader ty! this is my first time requesting so i hope i didnt do this wrong!!

Heya, dear anon! Thank you so much for your request, it was perfect and i had a lot of fun writing this. So, here's your drink: A small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream on top. Hope you enjoy! <3 (Reblogs are very much appreciated.)

Prompts: fluff, fake dating, “You’re not wearing that, are you?” + “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Be mine – Tartaglia x gn!reader (fake dating!AU, fluff)

“You’re not wearing that, are you?”

With furrowed brows, you looked at Tartaglia. He was standing behind you, watching you as you turned in front of the mirror to get a better look at your outfit. “Why?” you asked, a hint of confusion echoing in your voice. “Is there something wrong? Is it too much?”

“No,” he replied, and a smile flashed over his face as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he added, “It makes you look even prettier than you already are, to be honest. Everyone’s going to stare at you.” He nuzzled your cheek. “And I’m not sure if I like that thought.”

You felt your face growing hot at his words and tried to wriggle out of his hug. “Stop that,” you said with a sheepish grin. “No one’s here, there’s no need to act like we’re a couple.”

Tartaglia hummed in response and took a step back after releasing you from his hug, although he couldn’t deny that your words hurt him more than he liked to admit. He knew that you were right – the two of you weren’t really dating, after all. It was just a show you put on to stop your friends from constantly pestering you to finally find yourself a boyfriend. When you had asked him to pretend to be in a relationship with you for a while, Tartaglia hadn’t hesitated to help you. Up to this day, he hadn’t regretted it – well, a bit, maybe.

At first, it had been nothing more than a game and a secret the two of you shared – something that never failed to make you laugh when your friends weren’t around. But as the weeks passed, things had… changed. At least for him.

He had no idea how you felt about the whole situation, though. If you still thought about him as a friend or if his constant flirting did have some kind of effect on you… if you maybe had developed real, genuine feelings for him too. It was foolish, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but hold on to that thought whenever he saw you.

You watched him in the mirror, the way he stared into the distance absent-mindedly, his pretty blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He often had that look on his face when he thought you weren’t noticing it but whenever you brought the topic up, he always told you that you were imagining things before he quickly changed the subject.

That didn’t stop you from asking, though. You turned around to face him, your left arm slightly outstretched, almost as if your body couldn’t decide if you wanted to reach out for him or not. “Hey,” you said, your voice a lot softer than you initially intended. “What’s wrong?”

It was fascinating to see how his facial expression changed almost immediately, how he put on a smile that could have fooled anyone but you. “I was just thinking that you’re right,” he replied and shrugged. “About us, I mean. We’re not a couple when your friends aren’t around, and I’m sorry if my actions made you feel uncomfortable.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “What made you think I was uncomfortable? I just – I don’t know, I guess I wanted to say that there’s no need to pretend anything when we’re alone. It’s not necessary and I don’t want to bother you. Um…” You shook your head, annoyed by your own stammering. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. That’s what I was trying to say.”

You watched as his smile slowly transformed into a more honest one, and suddenly, there was this warm feeling welling up inside you again. It had happened a few times already, mostly when he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen or when he hugged you like he had done earlier but you had never bothered yourself with thinking about it. After all, he only acted like that because you had an agreement with each other, not because he actually cared about you… at least not in that way.

And it was fine, although you couldn’t deny that a part of you had always wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship with him. He could be reckless and even kind of belligerent sometimes, yes, but when he was with you, he seemed to be a completely different man – caring and considerate, always trying his best to make you smile when you were upset or sad. He was your best friend, the one you could always rely on, no matter what happened.

And sometimes, just like in this moment, he was the one who made your heart skip a beat without even knowing it.

“We should go,” you said, shaking your head once again to get rid of the confusing thoughts that had come to your mind. “The others are probably already waiting for us.”

On your way back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about something your best friend had said to you. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if they secretly knew that your relationship with Tartaglia wasn’t real but since you didn’t want to risk anything, you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie a while ago. Maybe they didn’t know it, anyway but something about the way they looked at you when they told you how happy you could be to have someone like him in your life, had suggested that they were well aware of your fake dating. “If you weren’t so cute together, I would be so jealous, really,” they had added with a grin, darting a glance at Tartaglia who had been joking around with one of your other friends at this point. “He’s awesome, (Y/N). Don’t mess this up, okay?”

The words were still echoing in your mind. How could you mess it up if everything wasn’t even real? Of course you knew what they were trying to say but at some point, you would have no other choice than messing everything up because you either had to tell your friends toe truth or act like you and Tartaglia had broken up. You couldn’t force him to play along forever, after all.

Sooner or later, he would find someone and fall in love for real, and then you would have to let him go, no matter how awful it felt to imagine him being with someone else. The thought hurt – and at the same time, it made you absolutely furious.

You stopped in your tracks, confused by the sudden anger that welled up inside of you when you thought about Tartaglia’s hypothetical future partner. Just because he would start to date someone, you definitely weren’t going to lose him; he would still be your friend. The only thing that would change was the fact that he would no longer act like he was head over heels in love with you.

And that was the moment it finally hit you.

The problem wasn’t that you were afraid of losing your friend. The problem was that you didn’t want him to fall in love with someone else – you wanted him to love you, actually love you, not just pretending like he had done for the past couple of weeks.

It was absolutely crazy, you knew that. He had agreed to fool your friends with you for a while because he thought it sounded like fun but actually developing feelings for each other hadn’t been a part of the deal. It had been completely out of the question, even.

Heck, why did everything have to become so complicated all of a sudden? Why did you have to fall for him? Everything he did, every hug, every kiss… all of that was part of your charade. He didn’t do it because he had romantic feelings for you.

Right?

You couldn’t help but remember the scene from earlier when he had hugged you in front of the mirror, implying that he’d be jealous if someone else would start to admire you. There had been no one around to see; he didn’t have to talk to you like that – and still, he had done it. And he had hugged you in a way that still made your heart beat faster.

Damn it. You needed to talk to him.

You needed to talk to him right now.

You turned around and rushed back to the restaurant where you had parted ways maybe fifteen minutes ago. He wasn’t there anymore but you knew that he sometimes went for a walk near the docks because he liked to listen to the sound of the waves, so you decided to look for him there.

It wasn’t too hard to find him – and as he spotted you approaching him through the crowd, a soft smile flashed over his face. “Did you miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone that usually would have caused you to roll your eyes. But right now, it just made you feel more insecure.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. Admittedly, it wasn’t the smoothest conversation starter but you were way too nervous to bother yourself with being particularly eloquent in that moment. “About us.”

He raised his eyebrows. “About us?”

“About the whole situation,” you explained. “The relationship thing we have going on. I – I don’t think I can do this anymore. It just… it just feels wrong to pretend like we are dating when we’re not. I don’t know why I came up with that idea in the first place, it’s so stupid and I’m sorry for dragging you into this and-“

“Whoa, slow down, (Y/N),” Tartaglia interrupted you and furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? I told you many times that I don’t mind helping you. I know your friends, I realize that they can be quite annoying when it comes to… well, your love life. You’re not taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You buried your face in your hands for a few seconds and let out a frustrated groan. “That’s not the reason I want to end this, Tartaglia,” you said. “I want to end it because it just feels wrong. We don’t love each other – we shouldn’t pretend that we do. It’s… it’s just not right.”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

You had expected every answer from him but not something like this. With wide eyes, you stared at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, that he was trying to fluster you like he already did a million times but his expression was unusually serious. “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?” he repeated patiently. “You said it’s not right to pretend that we love each other. But the truth is that I’m not pretending anymore. So, it’s not wrong, is it?”

You couldn’t reply. Your thoughts were racing as your brain tried to comprehend what he had just told you but you felt like you weren’t able to think straight at all. Not when all you could think about was that he loved you.

Tartaglia stepped closer, gently cupping your face with his hands. “I love you,” he said, the tone of his voice so earnest that it send a shiver down your spine. “And I think that you may love me too, so if that’s the case could you please say something? Or – I don’t know, blink twice, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you said, finally snapping out of your state of shock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos

#tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia genshin x reader #childe genshin x reader #tartagalia genshin impact #childe x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact imagines #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #fluff #fake dating!AU #genshin impact

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warmau · 3 years

Text

love languages x day6

*this post was commissioned | commissioner asked for something loving + warm.....so here is something overly cheesy indulgent and hopefully warm

sungjin

acts of service

doesn’t think twice about peeling all of the tangerines himself and sharing the halves with you without a word - just one slice for you, one slice for him

can’t leave you alone when you’re cooking or cleaning.

you tell him he’s busy from all of the bands schedules and he should just let you do it for once but a moment later

he’s standing beside you and chopping vegetables or he’s snatching the broom from you before you can even get started

you don’t complain too much though, he does look really cute in the kitchen apron

a man of little words he literally does all of this because he wants to say he loves and appreciates you but the words don’t come out easy like they might for other members

so when you’re alone and you tell him you love him you cant really get worked up over the fact that he barely mumbles something into your hair

because he’s shy about it - but he’s not shy about getting up first and bringing the cup of coffee to you in bed

people don’t give him as much credit as they should, which frustrates you, because sungjin is the kind of boyfriend and just the kind of friend who will bend over backwards for the people he cares for

from lugging all the instruments around, helping members with suitcases, or volunteering himself for the short end of the stick in bad situations

sometimes it gets so bad you have to put your hands on his face and steady him and be like sungjin, no. the boys can handle it without you.

and he’s like but im the leader-

and youre like shhhhhhhh before i kiss you so hard you cant breath for the next five minutes

and sungjin stares at you with those big brown eyes and hes kinda like well now im just gonna say something so you do tha-oH

you and him get like an hour alone before he has to leave on tour and it is supposed to be full of sweet words and i miss yous

and sungjin just comes in with a bag full of groceries and you’re like is that for your tour

and he’s like oh no this is some stuff that i noticed you needed from last time

and you’re like babe you’re leaving in like thirty minutes stop thinking about things to do for me

and he just looks at you and says; “i can’t stop, im always going to be thinking about what i can do for you.”

just another way of saying ill miss you and i love you suppose LOL

jae

words of affirmation

will never admit it out loud but if someone isn’t telling him he’s doing a good job. he will die.

and guess who gets that job? you - the second jae fell in love with you (and he do so very clumsily) you have been hired

jae does this kind of little look over his shoulder at you whenever he does something he thinks is cool or fun and you have dated for a while so immediately you’re like

“that was amazing come here” and he trots over with literal hearts spinning around his head (youngk gagging in the distance)

but if you miss the little beat then jae just looks like a puppy that got left out in the rain until you rush over to do damage control LOL

with work or anything like that it’s this sort of playful thing between you two

where you’re like jae you are the best at skateboarding. singing. playing guitar. all of it. and he’s like am i the best? really? and you’re like YES THE BEST

but the real affirmation he chases from you is the guarantee that you ........ love him

some people like to be close without words, some people can talk with their hands or gestures

but jae wants it said - and you are happy to oblige

kiss him all you want and not like he’s gonna not enjoy it but when you say something about how he makes you the happiest person on earth well some things are just better you know?

when you say this stuff to him while you’re ontop of him and jae just - eyes rolling back but let’s move on

when days are really bad or jae is not in a good mood everyone has learned that the cure for him is your voice

so sungjin calls you and even if jae tries to be like IM FINE sungjin puts you on speaker and is like “please cheer him up and be as gushy as possible in front of all of us”

you: “jae you know i adore you and you’re my pumpkin pie sweeti-”

jae skidding across the table to take you off speaker: “I WILL TALK TO THEM IN THE OTHER ROOM-”

he scurries out to listen to you coo to him privately and the rest of day6 is like waiting

and jae comes back, shining like a sunbeam until dowoon is like

“so pumpkin pie sweetie are you feeling ok?”

jae about to fling the phone at dowoon before sungjin is like HEY-

youngk

quality time

seems like a total homebody hermit who is like leave me be im ok living in solitude like a monk on a mountain

but the reality is that if he loves someone, and he loves you, if you two cant have that time together - he just feels wrong

like the gravity around everything else he is doing is just off centered

and everyone can tell because it is like a raincloud just starts following him around

and also - he gets very grumpy

jae teases him and is like awwwwwww do you miss your s/o are you getting all saaaaaaaad

and youngk is like shuttup no im not im fine

sungjin (who has a brain) is like no he’s literally going through withdrawal and then hits your number on the speed dial

he’s ok with group dates and being around the band and your other friends but there is really nothing like one on one intimacy to him

and that could literally be as innocent as sitting in the back of an empty bus, holding hands and sharing each other as pillows

to locking the bedroom door and falling over onto his sheets

tries to be slick about it though and texts you like “wanna come over?” and you’re like “oh ;)” and he’s like “........jae will be in the other room don’t lose your mind in the gutter”

but plot twist jae is not in the other room actually youngk has bribed everyone to be gone for an hour or two and you well

you pretend not to notice for your easily flustered boyfriends sake

gets the softest when you are alone ........ he puts up a front around others but if it is just you

running your fingers through his hair and listening to him sigh happily in your neck

that’s when the tender words like “i can’t live without you” come out

funnily enough he’ll say something so beautiful just for you to hear and when you kinda hear a similar sound lyric in day6s next album you’re like oh? was i inspiration?

youngk getting red down to his neck: NO?

wonpil begs you guys to do more PDA or something because he’s a sucker for love and sometimes he feels like you guys hold back

and youngk is like if you want to live another day-

jkjk

you just hold youngk’s hand and tell wonpil not to worry, once everyone is gone and it’s just you two, it is actually quite romantic

everyone is like we cant imagine youngk being sweet

but he really is, he cherishes you so much and he needs you to himself far away from the world and all its stress

what im saying is yes he seems like he’d be like leave me alone but like dont leave the room im in and actually just stay right here in his lap

wonpil

receiving gifts

and not in a materialistic kind of way but in a “im always thinking about you” way

there is no feeling like seeing wonpil after a long time and the first thing you do after running into his arms is going “i got you something while you were away!”

and as nice as big, expensive, frilly gifts on holidays are - what wonpil really loves the most is when you drop something in his hands and tell him you noticed he needed it

“oh, i remember you said you didn’t have anymore bandaids at the studio” “you should take sunscreen with you - here i got you some” “you’ve had that old jacket for so long, let’s go get you a new one for the winter.”

everytime you say something so casually to him, it just makes the inside of his heart burst because

you are always listening to him, observing him, thinking about his needs

and if that’s not love then. well.

you staring at a bunch of tickets and receipts in a box in wonpils room: what is this.........

wonpil: it’s from all our dates! they’re the gifts of the good memories!

you trying not to cry because he’s the cutest person on earth: o-oh

lmao jae will sometimes have to stop wonpil if they’re packing for a tour because wonpil could fit a suitcase full of stuff you’ve either given him or he got with you like

wonpil: im taking the blender. me and my love bought it at ikea three months ago

jae: im sure the hotels will have blenders...........

he attributes sentimental value to anything you touch really and wonpil can be overwhelming in all aspects of love

he likes touching you, he likes giving you uplifting words, he likes doing things for and he of course wants to spend every second with you

but something about having things that are shared

or just his because you gave it to him ............ another level

but don’t be fooled. he showers you in twice as much because he wants you to feel that same thing he feels everytime

dowoon

physical touch

hand is on you. on your shoulder. on your waist. on the top of your head if need be.

he will try to inch down from your waist when he thinks no one is looking before sungjin is grabbing him by the ear like boy - i taught you better

you: it’s fine i dont mind

dowoon: *:P intensifies*

but really he is like an overactive puppy when it comes to you because wow you are tangible and you love him and he loves you why cant he touch you every. second. of. the. day.

the funny thing is when you first started dating it was nothing like this - dowoon can be shyer than most and so it took him close to two weeks to gather the courage to hold your hand first

but now that it is comfortable and established it’s like he cannot live without it

kisses? gotta have them, before the set. after the set. when you wake up together in the morning. before you go to sleep.

you pushing his face away like you have morning breath and he’s like i will kiss you if my life depends on it

you also have noticed that if you are in a situation together where touching would be super inappropriate or something

dowoon will find a way to make contact. he will either play with the fabric of something you’re wearing or he’ll bump your hands together when you reach for something

part of you assumes he’s just being cheeky, but the reality is that touching for dowoon does so more than any words or gifts or anything

because you cannot lie through a touch - he either feels your warmth or he doesn’t

and when he doesn’t, life just sucks plain and simple

youngk: “jesus you’re on each other like a bad rash”

jae: “you sound jealous”

dowoon and you: “true youngk you do sound jealous.”

youngk grumbling: “young people....................”

there probably hasn’t ever been a moment where you’re ordering something at a fastfood place and dowoon is like order for me too and youre like do it yourself and hes like im busy and youre like busy doing what and hes hugging you from behind and hes like idk im busy holding my entire world now can you tell them i dont want pickles

#day6 scenarios #day6 au #day6 #jae au #youngk au #dowoon au #wonpil au #sungjin au #writing commissions

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doodleimprovement · 4 years

Text

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask

At long last, It is finished! Happy Halloween!

Below the line is a lighthearted fic taking place in the “Coffee Shop” AU (( @doodledrawsthings ))with Magic! Family fun! Low stakes! And a gratuitous cameo by my OC because of course Nell is here

Seriously though this fic is about as lighthearted as it gets. At the end of the fic are a few sketches I drew but didn’t end up coloring.

((There’s going to be an alternate ending posted separately at a later date, but its not relevant to the fic))

Enjoy!

Fall in Subcon Forest came in gently as always, and by the time Halloween rolled around, everyone was firmly in their sweaters and beanies and thick leggings and hiking boots that were only occasionally used for hiking. The leaves of the trees and the shining sun framed the town in such lovely muted colors that it looked like a picture right out of a magazine.

Not that anyone in the Horizon was looking out the window to see it - the curtains were closed in an attempt to not blind the employees and clientele.

It was that time between the end of school but before trick or treating, which meant that all of the teachers and parents were coming into the Horizon with their kids to get the new specialty drinks - well decorated and tasty, and more importantly, not hilariously overpriced. The kids in particular seemed to love the “Ghoulishly White Hot Chocolate”, and the teens flocked to the “Jack-O-Spices Frozen Pumpkin Latte”

Luka was almost certain that the pumpkin spice smell would burn itself so deep into his nose he’d never be able to un-smell it. A small price to pay for the rise in business, he supposed.

“Luka, Two Snatcher-ccinos!” Clover called from the cash register.

“I still hate that!” He responded with a light tone

“Too bad, make ‘em!” She teased back with a light laugh.

“Don’t get all testy, you two! We’re only open for another hour!” MJ called, grinning before turning back to the coffee machine, where they were effortlessly making yet another latte.

“Too long!” Clover argued, grabbing a muffin for a customer from the bakery display

“You’re telling me, and I still have to take Bow and Hattie trick or treating” Luka huffed, finishing up one of the “Snatcher-ccinos” and moving onto the next one.

“WE are!” MJ corrected. Luka just playfully rolled his eyes.

The conversation ended up dying rather quickly as the business went through its last rush, and, at long last, 4 o’clock came, and the store shut down. The three employees did a rather quickly clean up this night around - they were all eager to be anywhere but work that spooky night.

Once in the back of the store, Luka seemed to almost melt in relief, leaning further and further into the wall.

“Ugh, my limbs feel like Jelly” he commented as his voice gained its echo

“For all we know, they are,” Clover teased. “We’re meeting at MJs in an hour, right?” She stretched.

“Yeah.” Luka nodded “Have they already run off?”

“Yup. They’re excited” She chuckled “You gonna get home alright?”

“Yeah, thanks. See you later”

“Later!”

0o0o0o0o0

That stupid, cursed thing of a mask had not moved in weeks since he’d found it, and its stupid grin had started haunting the corner of his vision when ever he was in his studio.

It seems like it's decided that sitting on the desk in his art studio was its happy place. At least it was out of the way, and in a place he didn’t frequent often.

Though its eyes definitely still moved, which gave MJ hives like you would not believe. Why he kept it in his studio he wasn’t sure.

Tim had told him that the thing was mostly harmless, that it just seemed a bit… off, which wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Timmy even said that he got “good vibes” off of it, which was a strange phrase to use on something that felt at the very least mildly cursed.

Finishing with the caplet for his costume, gently clasping it, he looked in the mirror and gave himself a smile.

It was obscure, sure, but he’d put a lot of work into it! The legend of the “Lonely Man” was well known in these parts, maybe someone would get it. Someone had to.

Whether or not anyone got it, he was still happy with the tattered thing. That faux old age took forever to get right.

As he straightened out his clothes, his eyes caught the mask once more.

His hand picked it up off his desk, and his thumb rubbed on the odd surface. He couldn’t really tell what it was made of, but it was… oddly smooth, he thought. His brow furrowed as he looked at its eyes, a single pupil in its left eye, and a cascade of diamonds in the other. It was certainly an interesting and eye-catching design. He also liked the blue and reds, and that weirdly off-putting grin.

Such an odd thing.

He held it up with one hand over his face - not putting it on, but getting a look in the mirror at how it would look with the outfit.

He found it utterly bizarre that he could see clearly through the eyes despite what seemed like thick paint over it.

The mask itself wasn’t actually that scary when taken all at once. Oddly enough, it seemed to match with his outfit - at least, color wise. It didn’t even seem evil or anything. It seemed… kind.

That was an odd word to use. MJ tended to flip flop on how he feels about the damned thing

Before he could think any more about it, his doorbell rang, and the mask was left on his desk, forgotten the moment company arrived.

“Who is it?” He asked as he approached the door

“The Dread Pirate Roberts!” A little voice announced as the oak opened up.

To his absolute delight, Harriet was dressed indeed the Dread Pirate Roberts, missing nothing but the mask (The town doesn’t allow masks on minors, for some reason. A weird little policy). Next to her stood an excited Bow, grinning from ear to ear. He knew exactly who she was, but still asked-

“And who are you?”

“My name is Inigo Montoya” She said with all the faux-seriousness she could muster, holding up a foam sword “You killed my father, prepare to die!”

“Oh, goodness, the finest swordsperson in the world and The Dread Pirate Roberts have come to my home, I don’t stand a chance!” He moved out of his way as the kids ran into the apartment, and their father walked up behind him.

When his eyes went to Luka, he let out a snort. The man was dressed in a slightly silly looking prince outfit dyed almost completely purple, and his form was mostly purple as well - an energy-saving tactic if ever there was one.

“And you are?”

“He’s the ghost of prince Humperdink” Bow grinned. “This was the best costume we could find for it”

“I honestly think he shoulda died at the end of the movie so I'm cool with it.” Harriet commented as MJ moved to the side and let the group in “Is Clover here yet?”

“Not yet, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute and we can get right along with trick or treating!” MJ announced

“Yay!” the girls responded in unison, taking their place on MJs couch and turning on his old television for a brief moment of entertainment

Mj looked at Luka and grinned “Well, you’re lookin’ spooky, Luka”

“You kind of do too… what do you look like?”

MJ snorted “I’m the ‘Lonely Man of Subcon forest’. Heard of it?”

“Nope, don’t think I’ve been here long enough” Luka shrugged “Does look nice though. Very zombie-ish.”

The two chatted for a bit before there was another ring barely 10 minutes later.

“That must be Clo” MJ pushed himself off of the wall. “Can you get that? I want to grab my wallet so we can get the kids some ice cream before they go running around”

Luka nodded, giving him a grateful smile before turning to the door to greet the final member of the trio

MJ popped back into his studio, grabbing his wallet… and looking again at the mask.

He pocketed his wallet, and picked the mask up again. His thumbs rubbing against the strange texture of the mask’s sides.

He couldn’t help but admit that he was tempted. Maybe, he could just see what it’d look like, just for a moment. Who knows? Maybe this has all been anxiety for nothing and the mask is just… weird.

He looked back into the mirror, and placed the mask on his face.

There was a moment where he stared amusedly at his reflection - it added a certain air to his outfit. Maybe wearing it out wouldn't be so b-

And then his body seized

He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe. He trembled and a pain started from his head and traveled down his spine. It was like the worst shiver from the cold he’d ever experienced. Like ice was pressed directly against his skin. It dispersed like a fog, freezing freezing, and, suddenly-

It stopped.

Panting heavily, MJ pulled themselves back up to a standing position - when had they bent over like that? - and lifted their head, making eye contact with themselves in the mirror.

“GAH?!”

They were - blue! And - and the mask was very much not a mask!!!

When they blinked, it blinked. When they moved, it moved. When they grimaced, the mouth moved along to create the expression. their eyes scanned over the crescent shape, past their neck and then landed on their-

“H-hands!” They stared - they were missing a finger and - had claws?? They clenched their fists in disbelief, eyes catching on a glinting just under their sleeve.

.. Where had the chains come from?

“MJ? MJ are you okay?”

Clover

“D-don’t come in, its fine!!” They panicked, “I’m uh, just, finishing up and stuff with my costume!”

“It looked finished to me” Luka commented “Did something rip?”

“Y-yes?? yes! Something totally ripped“

“They’re lying!” Hattie pointed out

“Sounds like their lying voice” Bow added.

Curse these adorable, smart little girls!

“I-I’m fine!” They yelled out “Totally fine, just fine”

“... MJ I’m opening the door, be decent”

“No, Clover, I - “

But the door opened anyway

And Clover - dressed up as “Generic princess” - looked in, and … stared.

“.... MJ?”

“.... H-hi, Clover.”

“Clover, what are-” Luka cut himself off “Uh….”

“It’s me! Its MJ, I uh - “ They tried to come up with a succinct explanation for the situation, despite not having any real idea.

“The mask” Luka quickly concluded, recognizing the face after MJs unfortunately previous run-ins.

“I … yes” MJ’s shoulders slumped a bit.

“Hey, at least you still have feet” Luka commented, causing MJ to look down and see that he did in fact still have his shoes on. Thank heaven for small mercies.

“What happened, what is it?!” Harriet pushed her way through, her eyes wide as saucers once they landed on the recently transformed adult “... Whoa”

“I … I put on the mask. I was curious and - and it..” They looked back down at the pale, blue hands, nervously moving the fingers and claws. “I felt like I was freezing, my whole body and then…” They trailed off.

“Whoa..” Harriet approached him slowly “It's like, Majora’s Mask!”

Lukas put his hand on her shoulder to stop her from jumping - now really was not the time “... I suppose that's one way to describe it.” He gave a deliberate, thoughtful face towards his transformed friend.

Bow was very firmly behind the adults, staring rather intently and slightly bewildered. Sure, she had been getting used to Mr. Princeton as a parent but.. This was somehow very different.

“... We need to talk to Tim.” Clover concluded

“Tim’s out of town” Luka reminded the group with a grimace “He and Timmy had some kind of meeting thing with other magical people. We don’t…” Luka huffed, his hair fluffing up a bit “We don’t know anyone else whose adept at magic like they are”

Harriet furrowed her brow a bit, looking at the discomfort that MJ was experiencing, rubbing their hands together. Could they be stuck like that? She wanted to think that maybe this really was like the Zelda game, but who could tell? It's not like they knew anyone….

“Yes we do!” She snapped her fingers“I kinda hate that Mu was right, but there is a witch in town!”

“What?” Lukas’ brow furrowed “Who?”

0o0o0o0o0

Getting to the edge of town was… novel, to put it simply. The group was rather lucky that Luka was used to doing this sort of thing. And he was about 4 times larger than the group, so that helped in flying them around.

With the sun kissing the earth, red rays crawling into the darker sky, they didn’t have too much time, but followed Harriet and Bow as they got past the town center, and led them down to-

“Wait, why are we at Nell’s place?” Clover stared ahead at the Mint-green home, succulents hanging from pots and a radio sitting on the edge of the porch.

“Because Nurse Nell is a witch!” Harriet announced walking up the two steps of the porch.

“What- Harriet!” Luka startled.

“Its true!” Bow defended as Hattie knocked on the door.

“Kids, we’ve known Nell for a long time, she’s not-”

“She is!” Hattie argued “We saw it!”

“She made us promise to keep it a secret!” Bow added.

Said nurse opened the door as MJ tried to speak up

“I wasn’t expecting trick-or treaters,” She greeted before looking out the door, “But I do-” She paused as her eyes landed on the strange group at her front porch.

There was a rather awkward, extended silence as her eyes scanned MJ through her thick lenses with a gaze that conveyed a strange kind of surprise.

“.... Inside, now” She pulled the door open further, leaving no room for argument.

The adults shared a glance, but did as she said, entering her small living room. She greeted them with a nod as they entered, and shut the door behind them, motioning for MJ to approach her.

She didn’t say a word as they did so, and very slowly lifted her hands to their face, holding it steady as she scrutinized. “What happened? Less than 3 sentences” She half asked/half demanded. Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it was serious.

“Uh, I put on a cursed mask and it uh… did this” They tried to sum up.

“Where did you get the mask?”

“I found it in the forest. I thought it was abandoned from the spirit festival”

“And why did you pick up an abandoned mask in the forest?”

They awkwardly didn’t respond. She sighed

“I get it, hun” She responded, resigned. “Stay still”

“I am”

“Stiller”

Clover and Luka watched her with some skepticism, seeing the woman take a deep breath, and as she exhaled, her hands suddenly glowed dimly, tapping at the side of MJs head.

“Hah! See! Told you!” Hattie pointed, jumping slightly

“Shhhhhhhh!” Bow shook her “She’s doin’ magic stuff!”

“Hm…” She masterfully ignored the yelling children “Well, good news is that the magic isn’t very strong, Just… aggressive.” Nell announced. “And it's not malevolent” She let go of their face.

“... I… How can you tell?” MJ asked, their own hand tapping their blue cheek.

“.. Let's say it's a feeling” She summed up. “You can sit down. I need to grab something from my library”

And she left the room

“.... I don’t think I’ve ever seen Nell that serious” Clover spoke out “Also the uh, glowing hands? Didn’t know she could do that”

“How did you not know she had magic?” Luka asked with a rather incredulous tone

“It never came up!” Clover retorted

“How did it never come up?”

“Its cool!” Harriet jumped into the conversation

“It think its cool too” Bow agreed “I always wondered how my paper cuts at school always healed so fast…”

MJ had sat themselves down, hand staying on their head, feeling the strange curve of their forehead with a certain fascination. Nell’s words - said with so much affirmation- did make them feel better about the situation.

The nurse returned, her expression still relatively serious, but calmer as she carried an old, thick book with a rather overly ornate cover in a faded blue.

“You’re lucky I collect these old things” She commented for a moment, sitting down next to MJ. She flipped through the pages, finding a two-page spread with a plain mask listed on it, and text printed so small that MJ just could not read it. “Here we are.”

Harriet climbed up next to her “What's it say? That’s a lot of words!”

Nell chuckled a bit at her eagerness “It is, but... “ she hand rested on the book for a moment, and then she lifted it, and the text glowed, lifting and circling around her hand like a ring.

“Whoa…. It's like the unknown from the Pokémon movie!” Bow jumped, causing Nell to laugh more.

“A little, I suppose” Nell responded, and she looked over at the other two adults, mostly at Clover, whose bewildered stare caused her to laugh again “You okay there?”

“... How did I not know this about you?”

“Never came up, dear. Don’t think too hard about it. You too, “Snatcher”” The woman gave a smirk. Luka cleared his throat. “Now…”

A simple flick of her hand, and the letters were floating around MJ’s head, and some of them glowed just a little bit brighter “Hm….. Alrightie, that's a good sign” She snapped, and the letters, very suddenly disappeared as if popping a bubble. “Well, Give until dawn, and then you should be able to take off the mask. If you can’t, come to me. I don’t work tomorrow”

“Oh… Well, that uh, wasn’t so bad. I’ll be okay?”

“Of course” Nell nodded, shutting the book “I’d’ve called the Kagai’s the moment I let go of your face if I thought otherwise”

“The who?” Hat questioned.

“Another time, Hattie, another time” Nell placated. “Now….” she exhaled, putting the book on her coffee table and clasping her hands together “I just realized I haven’t even said hello to any of you”

Something about that sentence finally broke the tension, getting a laugh out of Clover and Luka, and a snicker out of MJ.

The next ten minutes consisted of Nell reassuring the group that MJ would be fine, and reiterating that they needed to come to her if the mask did not come off by sunrise.

“There’s a lot of magic in this that I can sense. So uh, just be careful.” She warned. “I don’t know a lot about that, so you’ll have to ask Tim”

MJ nodded “Uh, thank you, Nell”

She gave them a kind smile “Don’t mention it. Next time you need me though, have Clover send me a message or just call me, alright?” She looked passed them to Harriet, who gave her a sheepish smile.

“Got it” The transformed barista nodded.

“Oh and, don’t be too worried about people seeing you. Just say it's a costume” She recommended as they walked out with their family waiting just beyond the porch. “Happy Halloween!” She called before abruptly shutting the door

“So……” Bow started

“Can we go trick or treating now??” Hattie finished.

Luka looked up to MJ, who seemed much calmer than before, despite continuing to lift their hand to their weirdly shaped head.

“.. Yeah, yeah i think we can” they gave Luka a grin “And thanks for getting us the help, Hattie” MJ reached down and picked her up “Who knew the Dread Pirate Roberts could be such a help!”

The girl giggled before being put back down “Then let’s go!!”

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

MJ was initially a bit tittered when they entered the town, but the moment anyone noticed them, the compliments rolled in.

“Wow! You look like a spooky zombie!”

“What game is that cosplay from?”

“How did you get the prosthetic to look like that, damn!”

“Wow, that is a really cool idea for the Lonely Man!”

MJ was beaming at the semi-undeserved praised as they took the kids from neighborhood to neighborhood, filling their pillow cases close to brimming with so much candy that Luka kept making a face and seemed to be mentally preparing to hide all of it, whispering to Clover and MJ about taking some of the candy so that it wasn’t all in his apartment.

“Seriously, all that candy?? They’re going to get cavities and I cannot pay for dental work like that.” The father aggressed. MJ just laughed a bit, looking ahead at the two girls who were trying to run ahead to the next house.

And then Bow’s foot caught a crack.

“Ah, Bow!” MJ startled, hand reaching out - but there was no way they’d reach her before she fell-

And then, she just stopped falling, stuck in midair as if floating.. But she wasn’t.

Upon closer examination, she was held up by a variety of red strings, connected to MJ’s clawed fingers

“... Uh”

“Whoaaaa” Hattie gaped “Magic! Cool!”

Bow pulled himself up to a standing position, and MJ put their hand down, the strings disappeared

“.. Thanks” Bow cleared her throat “That was really cool”

“It kind of was... “ They commented, looking down at their hands “I’m gonna be having a heck of a long talk with Tim when he gets back from wherever he is”

“Yeah, definitely” Luka nodded in agreement.

Lucky for the group the rest of the night went without incident, with MJ joining Luka at home and the two of them staying up until the sun started showing through the windows.

“Ready?” Luka asked him, the being no longer human shaped, as he’d finally reached his limit

“Yeah.. I think so” MJ took in a breath “She said it can just… come off like how I put it on…”

“Alright….” Luka’s voice trailed off as MJ reached their hands up to their face, thumbs by their cheeks, but then - wait! The edge, the mask! They felt it.

Barely bothering to breath, they mentally counted… 1… 2… 3!

they pulled it off and gasped as that icy feeling went through them even faster than last time, trembling and nearly falling over as Luka kept them up with their tail.

“Hey, hey! You okay MJ?”

MJ looked up, nodding “Yeah, uh, how do I..?”

“You’re back to a nerd, if that's what you’re asking” Luka lightly teased

Their hands went back up to their face, and gasped when they felt their regular skin, and their glasses (Where had they gone? Didn’t matter)

“Oh, thank god” The tired barista flopped onto their partner, “That was exhausting. Thank goodness the Horizon is closed today…”

“Hah, ready to sleep?”

“Oh, definitely” MJ commented, looking down at the mask still in their hand, its smile seeming not nearly as spooky than before.. “Hm..”

“What?”

“.. Why’d it choose me, I wonder” They muttered, sitting up and placing the mask by the window sill “But… we’ll see about finding out more, hm?”

“.. Yeah, we will” Luka confirmed.

MJ gave him a smile, hugging his partner with a slight nuzzle “Come on, we need to sleep. Hattie and Bow-”

“Oh, don’t remind me. We’re in for a hell of an afternoon” Luka groaned, but he was still smiling.

Saying that things were “back to normal” was never correct with this group, but things were still pretty okay. Maybe better, even.

Moonie figured they’d just have to wait and see.

BONUS::

Costumes! I wasn’t able to finish these in time, but I hope they suffice!

#doodledrawsthings #coffee shop au #ahit coffee shop au #ahit #a hat in time #ahit moonjumper #moonjumper #ahit snatcher #snatcher #ahit hat kid #hat kid #ahit bow kid #bow kid #ahit florist #florist #ahit oc #ahit nell #csau nell #nell

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impaladolan · 4 years

Text

Capture - Grayson Dolan [2/-]

summary: after an unsuccessful attempt to escape, Y/N is in for more than she bargained..

warnings: lil bit of smut, swearing, and bdsm undertones

a/n: this is part TWO of this little series! check out part one before reading this!

Your senses slowly began to settle back into you, and you finally realized just what kind of mess you were in..

Right after his bold exit, your exhaustion caught up to you and your eyes became as heavy a dumbbells. But when you awoke for the second time that evening, the situation truly hit you right in the noggin.

You were in a foreign place, that you were incredibly scared to even attempt an escape out of. The foggy memory of the stunning man that had entered the room, was becoming a false reality. Had you dreamt of him? Was he just a twisted piece of your imagination?

Surely not.

It seemed so utterly real that the nameless man had to be an actual human. And even that thought scared the absolute shit out of you. If he were to barge right through the same door, you wouldn't know how to even address him, let alone look at him. So you stayed hidden beneath the large comforter, softly shaking with fear as your eyes began to water. You were starting to miss things you never thought you could miss. Like the pumpkin-apple candle that you'd light from time to time, or your piano you love to play, to wake you up in the mornings and settle you down in the evenings. Hell, you were even beginning to miss your refrigerator that held all your favorite foods and drinks, and your spacious bathroom that you regularly took a soaking bubble bath in.

Oh god, a bathroom. Just at the mere thought, your bladder revolted and signaled it's everlasting need to be freed. But you were too scared. Though, you couldn't last much longer without accidentally pissing yourself, but that'd just make this dreadful day even worse. So with your fears in mind and the shaking of your body reminding you, you pushed back the covers and lifted yourself from the cushiony mattress, your toes curling at the frigid touch of the marble floors. You oddly looked left and right, in search of what could possibly be a hidden camera or worse— a person, but came short with nothing of the sort. You began your tip-toeing steps towards an open door that unmistakably led to the sacred toilet you were literally yearning for, and ever so softly shut the door, for at least a little privacy. It was an expensive looking bathroom with even more expensive looking appliances.

But without further examining you rush to the porcelain bowl and pull down your undergarment, quickly seating yourself and letting all the filtered tension go. A relieved sigh escaped your lips, but your asscheeks sure did feel sore.

Maybe it wasn't a dream..

You let your thoughts roam as you emptied your bladder and tore a piece of toilet paper from its roll and wiped, finishing with the click of the flushing button and directing yourself towards the sink. The women in the mirror caught your eye, though she looked oddly untouched. You thought you'd at least have a bruise or two fluttered across your arms or your face, but it appeared as though you were as good as new and unbothered. Whoever had kidnapped you didn't fully intend harm, but rather some other premeditated plan that you weren't truly sure of.

Though you felt somewhat at ease, your frightened thoughts lingered and you washed your hands quickly and tip-toed back to your aclaimed warm bed that you slightly missed the absence of. You could've gone for round three of sleeping that day, but yet again, to your dismay, the familiar sound of a door opening and closing kept your eyes open, and an unfamiliar scent glided into your nostrils and made your stomach growl profusely.

"Hungry, darling?" The same voice from your dreams questioned the air around you and just as before, you couldn't refrain from laying your eyes on him. He was undoubtably real, except this time he was fully clothed in a tucked white dress shirt and pants, a belt tightly wrapped around his waist. He was even dreamier than before with his hair all done up and his fingers clad with shiny rings that hadn't caught your eyes before. You drew your attention away and slowly nodded, bringing the large blanket up to shield yourself from his eyes. He set the platter down on the nightstand with what looked to be a sweet smile and grabbed a little portable table to set just above your thighs. He neatly settled the prepared food onto it and seated himself at the end of the bed, motioning his hand for you to begin.

You were hesitant to eat anything he could've made at first, but you were more scared of him becoming mad, so you gladly picked up your spoon and began to chew on the nice noodle soup, it's brothy flavor feeling nice on your throat. You almost whimpered at the taste when you finished your very first bite, your eyelids shutting and your head titled back in sensation. "Good?" His deep, softened voice brought you back to reality and your head was nodding before you could detest anything of it. "For how mouthy you were this morning, you sure haven't said much at all." His words struck true as you thought back to the prior events, his seething words and your snooty comments that arises the anger in him.

"Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but you had caught me in a moment of weakness and I will forever regret it. I was taken against my own free will, without the ability to even fight for my freedom, and you think it's fair to treat me like a whore who "deserves to be punished" and was in quite a drowsy state of mind. You're a sick bastard whether you've been told that or not." You seemingly growled at him, but he didn't seem to be angered, let alone offended. With all the stillness and subtleness in the world, he answered;

"Yes, it may have been a moment of weakness, Ms.

Y/L/N, but when was the last time that that pretty pussy of yours was touched, hm? How long has it been since you've came by someone else's hand, or cock perhaps? Darling, I may be a stranger to you, but you're no stranger to me." And with that, he left you stunned (and regrettably horny), all alone in the same room you've been trapped in for who knows how long? Ugh, it was so angering the way he could flip what you say into something far from being similar to anything you were trying to argue.

But he was right..

Yes, it's been a rough couple years in the dating life for you. Though, it never had to do with "supply of men" because here and there, you'd get a little flustered by a handsome man wondering if you'd like to get coffee sometime. But you'd always sweetly decline and carry on with your day. You were a focused, driven person that had their mind set on nothing else but your arising business endeavors. You simply didn't want to begin a relationship because you weren't fully ready to give so much attention to one thing while you were too focused on another.

And being honest, men are very clingy. And mysterious..

His final little statement about "You're no stranger to me" really confused you. Had you met him before? Was he from your hometown? It was truly a mystery. Who's to say he wasn't some sort of stalker whose been following you for the past five years? But that sounds absurd. Why would such a handsome, dreamy, sexy— a'hem, man want to have anything to do with you? Whatever it is, you weren't exactly mad about it. Because just like earlier, when you were hazy and half asleep, you felt the same tingling and flutters right down to your core. He was so smooth with his words, it's hard not to fall to your knees and become his beckon call. Fuck, anytime you laid eyes on him, your body begins to writhe with shudders, creating that pooling sensation where your core throbbed the worst. A large part of you couldn’t wait to see him tomorrow, throw some sly comments at him or even try escaping, anything to catch his attention.

So before drifting asleep, your mind raced with loose plans and tactics for tomorrow, when you’d awake in the same room for presumably the third or fourth time.

Go time.

Initially, you had planned to sneak out only to anger him, but now that you were thinking about it, why not at least try to escape the clutches of the room and run away, hopefully home if you could.

You were missing it so much already, though you’ve only been gone for approximately thirty-two hours (maybe). But you were becoming bored with the view of absolutely nothing except gray walls and the one large painting on the wall. It looked like a countryside, a barn with a red roof-top and white siding while trees decorated the entire area around it. It was an odd picture to be put in this room, it didn’t really match the minimalist vibe the entire rest of the proximity put off. But anyway, it felt weird getting out of bed and twisting the handle on the door, and to your satisfaction, it opened with a faint click and you were finally able to be freed of this room.

The even more so frigid air smacked you straight between the eyes the moment you fully opened the door, it made your eyes water slightly. Taking the very first step out of the room, you notice that the walls in the long hallway are a powder color, which brought a weird grin to your face.

Those gray walls just weren’t doing the trick.

You slowly begin to tip-toe to the right of the entryway, looking in every direction possible. You didn’t really know if he lives alone or with others, but you were banking on the possibilities that there were others in the nice, freezing home.

Why the fuck does he keep it so cold?

You continued your slow, padding steps until you came across another door-less room; the kitchen. Thankfully there was no one in the huge kitchen, and your stomach jolted to the smell of just another soup, you just couldn’t recognize it. You almost scavengered for a spoon, but the faint sound of shallow footsteps corrupted your hearing and you b-lined straight to a cabinet, that happened to be a pantry once you were enclosed inside. Before entering, the pairs of footsteps let out a few hoarse chuckles and cackles, ultimately placing them as men. From what you could see in the tiny, barely visible crack, you could for sure make out who was standing directly left to the cabinet you were stuck in; the panty-dropping hottie from earlier.

You were just praying to God that he wouldn’t find you.

You took every breath as carefully and slowly as possible, not moving a muscle as the two men conversed, though it was muffled and incomprehensible. After what seemed like hours, you swore you heard a few goodbyes and a loud door shut. You wanted to sprint out of the damn tight-knit cabinet and run for your dear life, but you slowly opened the door and breathed in a large breath once you were finally free of your slight claustrophobic fears.

“Better run, sweetheart.” His deep, distasteful voice scared the wits out of you, which made your instincts ignite the moment he took a step closer to you. Before you knew it, your feet were pacing back and forth in long strides as your arms pumped up and down, though your blanked mind came to a loss on the directions out of the house.

This was it.

There was no way you’d make it out of here. He was obviously much faster and actually knew the layout of his own house, while you, on the other hand, had no damn clue where the front door is. So your heart sank deep in your chest when you felt his warm, muscular arms wrap around the entirety of your waist before you hand could even grasp an unknown handle that you were violently reaching for.

“Think you’re fucking smart, princess?” He whispers in your ear, carrying you away, presumably to your prior settings while you helplessly let him. You didn’t even thrash against him, or even attempt a kick to his groin.

You just.. let him.

“Fuckin’ lucky I don’t tie you up and spank your ass until it’s numb again.” He murmurs to himself, dropping you off on the same bed you’ve been sleeping and awakening in whilst he shuts and locks the door too. Just his little comment to himself made your mouth water and your pussy clench. It was hard enough being in such a close proximity with him.

Once testing the door to see if it was locked properly, he turned back to look at you with a cold, lustful stare that had you aching all over yet again. For someone that you don’t even know their formal name, you sure did have the ‘hots’ for him. In a flash, his shirt was off and his pants were unbuckled, the heat arising in your cheeks as he strode over to you in his nakedness. “Knees. Now.” He points to the floor below him, watching with demanding eyes. You, of course, reacted before thinking. You were on your knees in seconds and had your hands wrapped around his increasingly large girth. You really hadn’t looked at it before, you were honestly terrified to. But now that it was right in front of you and your fist was slowly pumping it, you craved it.

“Since you haven’t been very nice to Daddy, you’re gonna have to give him a little sweet treat..” He caressed the top of your head, looking down upon the sight of you stroking him made his cock jump slightly. With your own eyes in him, you ran your tongue along the protruding, red vein of his cock, suctioning off his tip like it was a straw. He threw his head back with a pleasured sigh as your warm and thick muscle made his erection grow. With a few internal encouragements in your head, you let your mouth intake more, slowly edging its way to his public bone. What you hardly couldn’t fit, you let your fingers glide over. His sharp intakes of breaths and groans had your own self a mess, and you almost wanted to creep your own two ‘flimsy’ fingers down there and relieve it.

You let your hands travel to his constricting balls, fondling them with the slightest of touches. He squinted his eyes and held himself back from coming right then, but it was too late. For his thick, hot ribbons of cum released all the way down your throat and to your chin.

He didn’t last long..

It unusually tasted sweet, compared to others who seemed to be sour and gummy. Though he was done and physically drained, you continued slow motions, only quickening them by the second. Overstimulating has and will always be one of your favorite kinks. To see someone shaking and aching from their own sensitivity made you all the more horny and sexually-frustrated. But the overstrung man put an end to the real quick, pulling you to your feet and shoving you back onto the cushiony bed where your comfy gown rose and his intense stare darkened.

“Don’t you make one fucking sound..”

(masterlist)

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spencerreidshortstories · 4 years

Text

Pumpkins and Halloween

Description: Spencer wants to go to a pumpkin patch and asks her to go with him. She’s not a big fan of holidays and Spencer sets his mind on changing that.

Rating: Teen

Warnings: None at all. This is cute.

Spencer had picked a tentative date to go to the pumpkin patch so he could pick up a few pumpkins, smaller ones for his apartment, but had asked her to go with him since it was going to during a weekend. He knew and she knew that the day could change because he never knew when they would be invited to get involved in a case away from home.

She'd told him she didn't mind going, but she wasn't much of a holiday person.

"What?" he exclaimed. "How are you not a holiday person?"

"Eh, my family was never big on celebrating anything, so it kind of rubbed off on me."

"Well . . . I am going to change that. I love Halloween!"

He basically went on a tangent about things they could do. He knew he didn't have much time because they were talking during her lunch break, but he hoped he could get her interested.

"To get you in the spirit, we can pick a pumpkin or two to carve and put on your porch," he said. "Um . . . are you a fan of horror movies?"

"Sure, as long as they're not gross. I don't like gore. I'm more a creature-feature girl."

"I can work with that. Uh, we can go to the park and pick the best leaves, and we'll need decorations."

"For what?"

"Your house! I mean, if you want to . . . it's something we could do together."

"Okay. It could be fun."

"It will be fun," he declared. "You've never been around me during October."

"No, I have not."

He could hear the smile in her voice and he smiled back even though she couldn't see it.

That conversation on the phone was how he ended up having one of the best days he'd had in a long time, though he always had a good day when he was with her.

It started out with her meeting him at his apartment and actually driving to their usual coffee spot. They had a small breakfast there as well, which probably shouldn't have counted as breakfast because it was only a very sweet doughnut for each of them.

They reached the pumpkin patch around noon and even though they needed a few bigger pumpkins to carve, she seemed drawn to the smaller ones.

"We can still decorate those. Just use a permanent marker or something," he said.

"They're cute," she said.

They spent an hour-and-a-half at the patch. Spencer didn't mind because she kept pointing out the different colored gourds. She even added one or two of them to the ones she wanted to buy.

"Did you know that the practice of turning pumpkins into jack-o-lanterns originated in Ireland? They used turnips and potatoes instead of pumpkins, but they brought the tradition to America when they immigrated here."

"I actually did not know that," she said, giving him her attention.

Even though she had never cut him off when he decided to talk about the things he knew, it still sometimes surprised him. Even his team usually stopped his rambling – most of the time because he needed to focus on a case, but still . . . they didn't want to hear him ramble on about things they were in no way interested in.

He talked about pumpkins some more and then moved onto Halloween and the origins of that, which she knew some of already. The conversation stopped when they had to pay for their pumpkins.

She was surprised when he took out his wallet to pay for hers as well as his.

"You don't have to do that," she said.

"I know. I want to." Then because he was suddenly unsure, "Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I just . . . I wasn't expecting it."

Spencer wasn't a materialistic person at all, but the fact that she wasn't used to people buying her things kind of made him want to buy her things.

When they got back to her car with their purchases they placed them in the backseat and headed back to her house to drop them off and so they could have an actual meal that didn't consist of only sugar. It was during lunch that Spencer brought up something that he'd been thinking about for a while now.

"You know, we've spent a lot of time together, but we've never really gone out for dinner or anything."

He spoke carefully, wanting to get a feel for what she thought about it, before pursuing it further.

"No, I guess we haven't. Unless you count dinner at Rossi's as, um . . . us going out."

"Do you?"

She looked away for a little bit before bringing her gaze back to him. "Kind of yes, and kind of no. I mean, it was a big milestone because I know you wanted to keep me separate from your workplace. You never really said, but I could tell. But it was also not just us that night, so that wasn't really a date. I've kind of been waiting for you to ask, but I've also kind of been considering our TV show nights as sort of dates. So basically what I'm saying is that I've considered you my sort-of-boyfriend for a few months now, which basically just means that I haven't even thought of looking for anyone else during that time."

Spencer's eyebrows began to rise. He hadn't read that into their TV show nights at all. It was mostly just her coming over and them switching on who paid for dinner that night. They would eat and watch the show and he would explain something if she didn't understand.

"But you've been waiting for me to ask you out on an actual date."

"Yes. I hope I didn't freak you out by saying that. And also, since you brought it up . . . I'm going to say yes if that helps you out at all."

Spencer grinned. "It does take the edge off a bit."

"Maybe we could go out for your birthday, if you're here. Garcia told me when you were born, so don't think you can get away without me at least taking you out to dinner. Or I could make you dinner and we can do something here."

"That sounds nice," he said.

Later, when they were carving the pumpkins, he suddenly realized something she'd said earlier.

"Hey, does this mean I can consider you my girlfriend even though we haven't actually gone on a real date?"

"Well, I would be offended if you didn't," she said, throwing a still wet pumpkin seed at him.

"Hey!"

He threw one back at her, but they did not let themselves start a full-on pumpkin guts fight at the kitchen table.

"Are you having fun?" he asked seriously.

"I am. The fact that you're having fun is helping me have fun."

"I'm glad. We should make a scarecrow next time we get to hang out."

"That could also be fun."

As they continued talking, they decided the next time they were able to get a night to themselves they would have their movie night and she seemed more enthused to decorate her house now. He wasn't sure if it was because she was coming to appreciate how fun it could be or if it was because it meant they got to do it together.

Maybe it was both.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x ofc #spencer x oc

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diyunho · 4 years

Text

The Joker x Reader - “Trapped” Part 5

Almost one year ago, someone tried to kill The Joker in a speeding car and Y/N pushed him out of the way, getting hit instead. With a fractured skull and broken bones, she was out of business for 6 months; when she finally recovered, The Queen of Gotham wasn’t the same anymore. Trapped inside her own mind and exhibiting severe cognitive impairment, Y/N’s life switched upside down without any hope of ever returning to normal.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

4 Months Pregnant

“I need customized stickers that say Baby On Board for my purple Lamborghini and the other cars I drive,” The Joker growls at his own idea whilst sharing it with the person fulfilling his wacko trades: Franco Rossi, the leader of best underground supply chain in Gotham.

“When would you like them ready Mister J? After Y/N gives birth?”

“Nope! Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?...” Franco hesitantly inquiries about the sudden emergency since he can’t understand why The King of Gotham demands them so fast.

The Joker hates explaining yet certain people are obtuse thus they necessitate enlightenment.

“Y/N’s pregnant: when she gets in a car, the baby is also. Baby on board! Hello??” the father-to-be loses his temper.

Who can argue with The Joker’s logic? Nobody. It sort of makes sense anyway.

“Of course, Mister J. I’ll have them ready. If you drop by after 6pm, I’ll have your guns ready too.”

“Perfect!” the Joker hangs up among the ruckus coming from the office near the kitchen: sounds of shattered objects and yelling alert Richard aka Panda you’re at it again. He nonchalantly passes by in order to deliver the items to The Clown.

“Your drinks Mister J,” he gives one cup with Starbucks caramel latte to his boss and the other is placed on the table. Why does your boyfriend require 2 identical containers? It won’t take long to solve the mystery.

“Are the lids glued?”

Strange question but there’s a purpose in it.

“Yes sir. How is she doing?”

“She’s hormonal: breaking things makes her feel better which reminds me we have to hoard porcelain objects for her to wreck. NO glass!”

“Sure, I’ll tell the crew,” Richard leaves the kitchen while texting Frost. “Hulk needs more to smash,” he types the code name they gave you in the last weeks although The King knows about it: J’s the one that came up with it.

“Hey Pumpkin,” you are greeted as soon as you pop up from the office. “How’d it go?” he scrolls down on his phone and takes a sip of hot liquid.

“Ugghh!” a frustrated Y/N swings the yellow teddy bear The Joker stole for her on their first date, hitting his hand in the process. The drink flies near the fridge and splatters on the floor with minimal damage: only a tiny puddle instead of a disaster, that’s why the lids are glued.

Safety measure for The Queen’s unpredictability.

J grabs his reserve cup of coffee, paying attention now hence he dodges your renewed attack and keeps his coffee intact.

That’s why his drinks have the lids glued, in case you catch him off guard the second time it will result in negligible destruction.

It happened before.

“I don’t think so Princess,” The Joker strong grip on the container calms you a bit because you won’t be able to win this round. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” you pout and sit in his lap.

“I bet the baby is,” the secret weapon is unleashed: J discovered such a gem by accident and it works like a charm. How can Y/N say “no” if the baby is involved? She can’t.

A plate filled with a bunch of your favorite breakfast food is placed in front of you and strangely enough you’re instantly hungry.

“Extra bacon,” he purrs. “Plus chocolate dip and honey mustard for your pickled cherries. I added peanut butter olives as a bonus.”

In your defense, you’ve been having weird cravings lately.

You place the toy on the chair nearby and start eating, ogling a Joker texting back and forth with his business partners. He chews the morsel you just offered and shivers: waffle dipped in clam juice is disgusting. Maybe he should look at the food you shove in his mouth.

“Gross,” J washes the terrible taste with coffee and gets a kiss for encouragement, yet he’s aware of the connotations. Another kiss confirms it.

Let’s put it this way: besides the hormonal episodes and food demands, The Queen has had a fresh type of craving recently - The Joker kind.

More than usually.

That’s why he has to clear it up.

“I’m flattered for being the center of attention; we gotta keep in mind that contrary to the popular belief, I don’t have unlimited stamina, Pumpkin.”

You nod in agreement and unbutton his pants, then unzip them also.

“Y/N, pay attention!” J insists since you don’t give a damn about his woes. “Think about it as a two way street: The Joker Street and I Want To Break Things Street. Are you with me so far?” he double checks.

Why is he yapping so much??! I guess you should make an effort to comprehend: he’s even doodling patterns on his phone to emphasize the speech.

“When you get hormonal, Princess, let’s try and walk on the I Want To Break Things Street instead of The Joker Street, hm? The Joker Street is sometimes closed for repairs until further announcement.”

OK, OK, this is a lecture. Something about a Joker Street, he seems upset he doesn’t have one…?... Right?...

If you were him, you would be pissed Gotham didn’t name a street in your honor when you’re so important for the town.

Another peck on his neck, then your lips go down his collar bone.

“You’re not paying attention, are you?” J mutters when it’s clear his shirt won’t remain on his body for too long.

“I am,” you defend yourself.

“Oh yeah? What did I say then?”

“Ummm…” you try to piece together words among estrogen taking over. “No Joker Street?...”

“Bingo, that’s it Princess! No Joker Street, correct! Choose the other street, yes?”

This time he kisses you, excited his idea was well received when in fact, both parties are referring to unrelated concepts.

“Wait,” J dodges your touch, “Richard is calling.”

Because he’s on the phone ignoring Y/N, she is ensuring a nice surprise for later; concentrating to the maximum to avoid misspelling, the following message is sent to Franco Rossi from her cell:

“Make a landmark sign that says Joker Street.”

The King’s conversation is prolonged more than anticipated until he discerns you’re not wiggling: you feel asleep, softly snoring on his shoulder and he definitely can’t afford to wake you up.

The doctors said your body is trying to cope with the pregnancy the best way it can: if you doze off at random hours it means you ran out of fuel and you should rest. After cheating death and surviving the accident, the future mother is at high risk of serious complications which is why each day could lead to unforeseen problems.

The Joker rises from the chair holding you in his arms and after a few steps he realizes it’s difficult to walk: thanks to his unbuttoned and unzipped pants, they keep sliding lower and lower. There’s no way he will make it upstairs so maybe the sofa in the living room is the best option. He almost trips thus he begins to drag his feet on the carpet, the pants at knee level now.

“I’m reduced to a piece of meat,” J grumbles, finally making it to the couch and placing Y/N on it so she can have her power nap.

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

6:02pm

You accompanied The King to a meeting with Seraphim, the best hacker/strategist J uses: they’ve been plotting for a while concerning D.A. Kevin Winchester. The politician is becoming a huge pain in the butt for Gotham’s underworld and something must be done; either annihilation or blackmail, it truly doesn’t matter since he’s bad for business. Due to a total lack of interest in the subject, you are exploring the surroundings quite angry The Joker dragged you here.

Luckily there’s stuff to do.

Bam! you punch the fragile glass sculpture and it splinters into a million pieces on the lavish marble floor.

Seraphim jumps at the noise, immediately recognizing his beloved possession:

“That’s…,” he gulps, appalled. “That’s a Vitriol!”

Yup, the one and only Degas Vitriol, the latest sensation taking the art universe by storm.

“She’s hormonal,” J sneers. “She breaks shit!”

“That’s valued at 150,000 dollars!” the hacker breaths in much needed oxygen regarding the atrocity unfolding at his hideout.

“So??!!” your boyfriend sucks on his teeth, irritated. “Serves you right for buying that asshole’s artsy fartsy crap!”

The Joker actually has 4 Vitriol masterpieces at the mansion yet you were strictly forbidden to destroy them, alas he gave you the office for your rampages.

You continue your exploration as they talk about God knows what until you perceive an alarming detail: Seraphim is literally screaming having a gun pointed at J.

You sneak behind him then in a split second you strike the pistol out of his hand and your fist lands on his temple with such brutality it knocks him out unconscious.

“What the hell are you doing, Y/N???” The Clown hisses at your erratic behavior.

“Hm?”

“What are you doing??!!!” he repeats, annoyed.

“S-saving you…,” you stutter, confused on why J is mad. “He was yelling and…mmm, had a gun,” you wince in pain because your knuckles hurt from the impact.

“The guy’s half deaf and sometimes he raises his voice without noticing, or did you forget??!! Now I have to wait until he comes to his senses and that’s a waste of my time, Y/N!!! Seraphim wasn’t threatening me, he was showing me his newest collectible!!! I suppose someone with half a brain can’t acknowledge the mess they’ve created!!!”

A lot of accusations thrown your way still… the last sentence brings tears in your eyes.

“I…” you bite your lower lip. “…I don’t have half of brain…”

“Wanna bet??” The Joker bites more instead of leveling with your logic: you though he was in danger and took action. If it was a real emergency, yes, you would have been the hero; it’s not and apparently he can’t appreciate your fast intervention in these circumstances.

“Y-you’re stupid…” you whisper, frustrated. “You don’t understand anything…”

Here it is -- the cataclysmic event of the century: someone called The Joker stupid. He’s beyond outraged with nothing better to utter besides a very childish:

“You’re stupid!”

Y/N turns around and stomps out of the house leaving a trail of destruction outside: she slaps the bottled water out of The Shark’s hand, kicks Panda’s shin and snatches Frost’s donut basically inhaling the sweet treat.

“I want to go h-home!!” you shout and enter the first vehicle you see, slamming the door so hard the window on the passenger side cracks.

“Jesus…” Jonny mumbles and being the sensible man that he is you are offered the whole box of pastries he purchased for his family. He can acquire more, but there’s no way in hell he wants to endure Y/N in the state she’s in.

Gotta keep Hulk calm somehow…

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

3 Hours Afterwards

You sulk when The Joker strolls in the master bathroom frantically searching the cabinets.

“Did you see my shaver?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“Did you see my shaver?”

“I…I wouldn’t know. I only have half a brain,” the surprisingly eloquent phrase queues J his woman is holding a grudge for his earlier statement. Why wouldn’t she? He was a complete jerk.

At least you didn’t catch on to the obvious: The King of Gotham doesn’t own a shaver; hair just grows on his head.

He glimpses at Y/N soaking in the bathtub with a kid’s book in her left hand and the right hand fingers sunk into a bowl filled with ice placed at the edge of the Jacuzzi. The Joker leans over and switches your book since it’s upside down.

You huff at the unwanted help and stare at the pictures expecting he’ll look for his shaver and disappear.

You’re not that fortunate today.

“Imagine my surprise when I drove the main alley and detected a sign that says The Joker Street,” he brings up the topic.

Franco Rossi was super-efficient …sadly you ordered the item before J ran his mouth at the hacker’s place, otherwise you wouldn’t care he wants a street with his name.

“You said no… no Joker Street,” you stammer. “Now you have one,” the bitter tone makes him roll his eyes: Y/N’s brain got what it could from his monologue, he should have known better than to make it complicated.

“Excellent…” The King starts rubbing your tummy, “… precisely what I was aiming for. I’m washing the baby, not you!” he underlines when you move farther from him.

You scrunch your face displeased but let him do it because it’s for the baby.

“I know what you’re doing,” Y/N gives him a cold gaze. “U-using the baby… I’m not stupid!”

Busted, The Joker thinks. The schemer in him won’t accept defeat though.

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Yes you did!”

“You said it first!!!” he reckons, antagonized. “Therefore two stupid people put together gotta make up for a smart one!!’

“I… I don’t wanna make out…” you frown at his suggestion.

The Joker sighs, deciding not to correct the trajectory of your judgement; it sure sounds like an opportunity.

“Why not?”

“I’m tired and…and I h-hate you,” your heavy eyelids close.

“Both viable reasons, even if I have to admit you striking Seraphim like that got me quite worked up. He’s no small fry! I had to wait for one hour for him to recover; you got a mean punch, woman! The more I reflect on it, the hornier I get. Which reminds me, Pumpkin: guess what?... … … I’m hormonal too.”

No answer, Pumpkin’s out.

“Of course nobody gives a damn if I’m hormonal!” he complaints while grabbing you from the bathtub. You cling to him for a few moments prior to drifting back into your dreams.

“Thanks for getting me all wet,” J snarls at the cruel reality of having his favorite Prada suit ruined.

“You…you’re welcome…” his Queen replies in her sleep, somehow her mind clutching to reality amidst pure relaxation.

This is what two hormonal individuals are reduced to: one’s dozing off, the other is suffering in silence, although being the proud owner of the tiniest road in Gotham compensates for the mishap.

It’s a two way street.

Also read: Masterlist

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

#the joker x reader #the joker imagine #the joker fanfiction #the joker jared leto #the joker suicide squad #the joker #joker #joker x reader #joker leto #joker imagine #joker suicide squad #joker jared leto #mister j #mr. j #dc #dcu

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aurorawest · 3 years

Note

For the fic WIP game. What's "Strange gets called out"? And "healing magic"? And "PSL"?

Sorry I wasn’t able to answer this yesterday! Kept meaning to...and then kept feeling more and more like crap. Allergies? Exhaustion? Covid? (probably not, I got the rapid test and it was negative) A cold, somehow, even though I hardly go anywhere? CVST from my J&J vaccine? Who knows!

Anyway. Strange gets called out! This was kind of me getting my ideas down for what’s going on with Stephen while Loki is traipsing around the galaxy with Thor in The Real Asgardians of the Galaxy. There’s not much to it atm. Essentially, when people find out that Stephen was harboring Loki at the Sanctum for nine months, he gets...chastised. Can’t say tons about it because it has ended up being an important plot point to my series.

Wilson put a hand to his forehead. “You want to tell me what you were thinking?”

Stephen kept his face free of emotion; certainly free of what he was thinking, which was, I mean, have you seen his ass?

Yeah, probably not the best choice of words. Or thoughts, honestly, but he was sort of at the point where it wasn’t feasible to keep denying that he thought Loki had a nice ass. Or legs. Or that the way he moved didn’t hypnotize Stephen, occasionally to the point of distraction; that lithe, lazy grace of his a language of its own. Or that the way his black hair fell around his face, framing every sharp angle of it, from his cheekbones to his cutting smile, didn’t make Stephen’s heart thud in his chest. Or that his eyes, gorgeous and blue and bright with cleverness and wicked amusement, didn’t make Stephen want to stare into them forever.

healing magic is a fic that was inspired by last year’s Marvel Reverse Big Bang. There was a piece of art I really wanted to claim, but I ended up missing out on it (I obviously got an amazing piece of art anyway, which was my first choice, because the story for ‘Will you be my festar-man’ popped into my head the moment I saw it). But I already had some ideas for a fic that might accompany it, so I have a WIP. This is actually on the collab list I have with @nonexistenz so someday this fic should be a reality, with accompanying art! We both have massive WIP lists though, haha. The idea of the fic is that healing magic requires love in order to be able to perform it, and Loki has always struggled with that.

“Strange,” Loki said, crawling over to him. “Strange, are you alright?”

There was no response. Loki’s heart and lungs clenched tight with fear. Strange was pale. There was blood pouring from a wound on the side of his head, and as Loki pulled himself to Strange’s side, he saw something worse. The front of his robes were soaked through with blood. “Strange,” he said again, heaving himself at last to his side.

Strange groaned and stirred, but didn’t open his eyes. He was losing too much blood, far too much blood. They needed help, but he already knew none was coming. It was just the two of them. And Stephen Strange was bleeding to death.

Loki pushed himself into a sitting position and moved closer to Strange, pulling him gently into his lap, his shoulders against Loki’s chest. “Strange,” he murmured, cradling Strange’s head in one of his hands, his fingers in Stephen’s hair. “Stephen. You can’t die. The Avengers will never forgive me.”

PSL was inspired by a conversation months ago on my Froststrange server. It’s a fic that takes place the day after Sleight of Hand ends. Ostensibly it’s about Loki being scornful of Pumpkin Spice Lattes, really it’s about the next tentative steps towards friendship that Loki and Stephen take.

“Hi,” Loki replied warily.

Strange cocked his head, then held something out. Loki lowered the book and found himself looking at a white cup with a plastic lid over the top, and something scribbled in black on the side that looked like ‘Steven.’

Looking back up to Strange, Loki asked, “What’s this?”

“Breakfast-slash-peace offering,” Strange said. “Aka, a Pumpkin Spice Latte.”

Loki’s eyes flicked back to the cup. This told him nothing. “Is it poison?” he asked.

Without cracking a smile, Strange said, “I mean, technically no. But one of these things could drop a diabetic. And it’s about seventy-five percent of your caloric intake for the day.” He paused, looked at Loki consideringly, then said, “Though I guess you’re Asgardian, so maybe fifty percent.”

“What is it?” Loki asked crisply, though the urge to smile at Strange’s deadpan delivery of this was harder to fight than he would have liked.

“It’s coffee,” Strange said. “Kind of.”

“I don’t like coffee,” Loki said, raising the book again to block his view of Strange.

The cup moved back into his field of vision, coming closer to his face, and Loki lowered the book again, pursing his lips. The tiny smile was back on Strange’s face. “It’s a coffee drink,” he said. “Calling it coffee is an insult to coffee.”

“That swill you make for yourself is an insult to coffee,” Loki said. “And I don’t even drink it.”

Thank you for asking!! 😄

WIP tag game

#froststrange #strangefrost #loki #stephen strange #Anonymous

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sillyrabbit81 · 3 years

Text

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, drunk, motion of death

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

In less than ten minutes, we had pulled up to Liam's house. Liam paid for the taxi too. I kind of argued this time, but he pointed out he asked me to his house. I didn't get too stubborn about it.

Liam was living in a four-story terrace house, recently renovated by the looks of it. It was painted white with black wrought iron lacework, and it was beautiful. The front door and windows were painted black. It appeared to be the twin of the house that shared its wall.

We entered through the dining room, and I realised it was actually the two houses renovated together. The inside was modern with original heritage touches. The floors were light timber, and the walls were white. The ceilings had plaster and cornice so beautifully ornate that restoration must have taken ages. The room had an imposing black marble fireplace and a deep brown, almost black wooden dining table set on a grey shag rug in the room's centre. A huge abstract painting of bright pinks, greens and grey hung on the wall.

"Wow, this must have cost a mint!" I quickly covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's ok. I was pleasantly surprised by the house too. The studio got the house for me I...." Liam was interrupted by a massive dog bounding into the room.

Liam got down and roughhoused with the dog for a bit. Wow, he was a monster! I'd seen a picture of Cole before that "Will" had sent me, but I wasn't quite prepared for how big he was. He was almost completely black with some brown above his eyes and ears. His paws were brown too, and his belly was grey. He wasn't any particular breed, apparently a rescue dog. I thought of my bull terrier cross cattle dog at home. This dog would eat him for breakfast, and Perrin wasn't small.

Cole's pink tongue lolled, and he panted as Liam moved from side to side. Cole imitated Liam's actions jumping about. He barked a couple of times as he got excited by the play. The noise reverberated through the quiet house.

"Shhh, Cole, people are sleeping." Liam softly admonished. Then his voice became stern. "Sit," he ordered before patting him. Liam looked at me and said, "Lana, this is Cole. Cole, Lana."

"Hi, Cole. You're much bigger in person." I could hear the slight tremor in my voice. Liam must have sensed I was nervous and came over to stand near me. Cole padded over and sniffed at me. Gingerly, I put my hand by my side and let him approach me. Cole nuzzled my hand, and I gave him a pat on the side of his neck. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried he wouldn't like me. I love dogs but always get nervous around new ones." Liam put his head to the side, asking a silent question. "I had a dingo go me one time, and I've never really gotten over it." I squatted down and gave Cole more pats. "I think this guy is ok, though."

"Yeah, he's a good boy. How is Perrin, by the way?"

"He's ok." I sighed, "he's just old. The poor little guy can't get onto my bed anymore and sleeps in my lounge room now. I kinda miss it, but I have slept a bit better."

Liam gave Cole some more pats and told him to go sit. "Come on. I'll make you a tea or coffee if you'd like." I agreed a coffee would be perfect right now. I needed something to sober me up.

I sat at the kitchen bench while Liam made coffees. Cole sat by my stool, and I patted his head while watching Liam. Liam had kicked off his shoes and was walking around in his bare feet. It was amazing to see him so much more relaxed here than while we were out. He really did appear to enjoy being at home.

As Liam made our coffee, he moved with a grace that surprised me. His movements seemed economical and rigid but hinted at the power beneath them. He seemed coiled and ready to explode at any moment. It was like he was dancing the pasodoble, his body moving to an invisible beat. Images of Strictly Ballroom came into my mind, and I found myself humming Love is in the Air. I was drunker than I thought.

When Liam was done, he led me over to his large L shaped lounge, and I sat. Liam flopped down next to me, casually laying back and popped his feet up on the coffee table. Cole sat on a mat that was clearly his.

I sipped my coffee, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly the quiet between Liam and I felt awkward.

Liam and I spoke at the same time, "What.." "So..."

We both laughed. Liam indicated I should proceed. "Well, I was going to ask what brought you out to Sydney, for real, not the Will answer."

"A new project. I'm going to be filming a television show." Liam proceeded to tell me about his project, working with some people from Netflix on a fantasy/sci-fi series adaptation. He was so animated when telling me that it was obvious that he loved his job.

It would be his first television series and was to be more romance heavy than anything he had done in years. Liam explained that he is filming here because the story was written and developed in Australia. "If it works out, I'll probably be based out of Australia for the next few years. I'll go home to England for a few months during breaks, maybe do some small film roles. It's hard with Cole, though, because every trip into Australia means 10 days quarantine for him."

"Oh yeah, and you don't want a Pistol and Boo situation." Liam looked confused, and I explained about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp smuggling their dogs into Australia.

"I thought you said you don't follow celebrity gossip."

"I don't, but that was big news, hilarious really. It was on every bit of media in Australia, and then they had to make this cringe video apology. I almost felt bad for them." Then I yawned, suddenly all the alcohol had lost its buzz, and I was just tired. "The coffee doesn't seem to be doing its job. What time is it?"

Liam looked at his watch, "11.30."

"Yeah, it's late. I should get home. I don't want to turn into a pumpkin." I cringed. Fuck.

"You don't have to go. You could stay here." I raised my eyebrows. "I do have more than one bed if that's what you want." Liam leaned over to me and placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

I looked at my nearly empty coffee mug. I swirled the dregs around the bottom as if it were tea leaves, and they would tell me what to do. "I don't want to go home yet, but I don't want to go too fast, either."

"That's ok."

I didn't move. I wanted to stay. Ten years ago, I would have stayed, but Andy's face flashed into my thoughts. I knew it was ridiculous. Andy had been gone for over three years now. But every time I even contemplated being with someone, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Liam was waiting for an answer, but I didn't know what to tell him. 'It's not you, it's me' is such a tired cliche, but sometimes it's true.

"Lana, it's ok. If you want to go home, that's absolutely fine. I'll even call you an Uber."

I felt my eyes sting, and I looked away from Liam. My bloody traitorous tear ducts giving me away. I shouldn't have drunk so much. Alcohol always makes me emotional.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath. I angrily wiped at my eyes, thankful I had used waterproof mascara. My eyeliner was a different story, though, and black streaked my fingers. I asked Liam where his bathroom was, and I got up, only half listening to his directions. I found it quickly. It was only through the doorway into a little enclave with a powder room, stairs and a lift. What kind of bloody house has a lift?

I closed the door and sat on the toilet seat. I knew enough not to try to stop the tears, so I just let them go. Bloody hell, Andy. Why did he fucking have to leave me? Why the fuck did you have to fucking die. Goddammit. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do this to Andy? I wanted to scream, to punch something, to throw something. I needed another cigarette. Fuck you, Andy. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck Liam.

As I always did when I thought of Andy, I remembered the last time I saw him. His sweet face looked down at me as he kissed me goodbye. His deep brown hair fell like a curtain around us, hiding our kiss from the world. Cheekily I had slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he had groaned as he pulled away. He told me to save it for when he got back and would be as quick as he could be. I had thanked him for filling in for me. He winked and said to thank him later. Then he left.

When I was able to, I started to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I could feel the tightness in my chest slowly ease. Breathing became more comfortable, and the tears stopped. I looked at my hands, and I was able to release the fists I was making. My nails hadn't broken the skin this time, but small red crescents remained etched into my palms.

I waited a few minutes longer to make sure the moment had passed. It wasn't Andy's fault he died, and I knew that. It's also not my fault that I wanted someone to love again. Sleeping with someone other than Andy felt like crossing the Rubicon, no going back.

The fact was there is no going back, no Andy to go back to, even if I wanted. In my head, it still felt like a betrayal. But it wasn't. And Liam wasn't just anybody. He was a guy I had spent weeks talking to, getting to know, and although he looks different, he is still acting as I had expected. I saw a potential future here. Did I really want to let my past ruin it?

I cleared my throat and stood up, preparing myself to see the horror that looked back at me. Ugh, it wasn't great. My eyeliner had given me panda eyes, and the tears had created streaks down my cheeks.

Getting a tissue and blew my nose, and decided there was nothing else for it, I washed my makeup off my face. I avoided washing my eye makeup off though, that was a mess I just didn't have the products for, so I just wiped under my eyes and cleaned it up. I binned my tissues, washed my hands, took a few more deep breaths and prepared myself to face Liam.

I opened the door and walked straight into something solid that made me bounce back into the bathroom like a tennis ball. Hands caught me before I hit the floor, and I found myself in Liam's arms.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No," I was flustered again. I spent all that time calming down to just be in a state two seconds later. "I just didn't expect you to be outside the door. Jesus, you're like a brick shit house."

Liam didn't laugh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Liam didn't look convinced. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Liam nodded. "I'll get you that Uber." He pulled his phone out.

That's it then. All in all, it wasn't the worst date I'd been on since Andy died. Actually, it was probably the best. Liam, at least, was a guy I was attracted to and didn't appear to be a man child. He seemed to like me, even when I cried over another man. Although I doubt Liam knew that's why I was crying. I had told him I was married before and he had died, but that was only once and a long time ago, and we hadn't discussed it again.

The tears had done their job, and a calmness came over me now. I had said goodbye to Andy, and I was ready to take that last step to move on. That was why I started to date again; to open my heart, I was ready.

I put my hand on Liam's wrist, "if you still want me to, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure? I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place. I let my other head think for me." Though I laughed at his candid admission, Liam's face was serious. "I'm not joking. I want you, and I didn't think about how you must be feeling. The whole fake profile thing must still be weighing on your mind. And all of the other problems that go along with being with me. You should have more time to think about it."

And my dead husband, let's not forget that. I didn't say that out loud, thank God. "I will have time to think about it. But right now, I want..." Shit. I've gone shy again. Just fucking tell him you want him too! "I mean, can't we just have a bit of a cuddle and a snog?"

Liam's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, "a cuddle and a snog?"

I nodded.

Smiling, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. "I think I can arrange that."

Without further warning, Liam grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above my head. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me to him, his hips rolling into mine. His eyes were fierce and focused on mine. I closed my eyes, the sensations too much, and my breath quickened.

I heard Liam say through gritted teeth, "It's taken everything I had not to do this to you since I saw you at the bar. I wanted to take you then and there." His voice seemed to ease, the words coming easier for him. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you. To know you are real." Then he whispered, "and you are. Real. You're as beautiful tonight as you were in your pictures."

I opened my eyes and found Liam staring at me, and his intensity was nearly frightening. He pulled me tighter against himself, his fingertips digging into me while he crushed me against his body. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I couldn't stop myself from rubbing against it. This time Liam closed his eyes, and I felt the rush of blood to my centre.

Liam opened his eyes, desire naked on his face, "Kiss me," he said.

I met his soft and warm lips. I felt Liam's groan rumble in his vast chest, and kissing him again, my lips scraped against his whiskers. Liam kissed me back now. His tongue pushed past my lips, and found mine. His tongue playfully danced in my mouth. Liam's hand left my arse and started to feel my hips, my waist and then my breasts. He cupped them and gently squeezed. My breath caught as his hand skimmed past my nipple. His palm created friction against the lace of my bra, and tingles radiated through my body.

His lips left mine and went to my neck. He kissed and sucked at me, moving down to the top of my breasts. I heard him take a deep breath into my chest as his cheeks rubbed against my skin. His kisses became harder against my chest and moved back up to my neck, his teeth nipping at me as he went. Even though he had me captured, I wriggled against him, my hips moved uncontrollably, my breath uneven and weak.

Liam pulled away, still firmly gripping one of my hands. "Come with me." Liam led me to the lift.

"Where are we going?"

"To my bedroom." I pulled against him, forcing him to stop. "Sweetheart, I promise I won't fuck you until you ask."

My legs turned to jelly. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg despite my reservations. I nodded and followed Liam into the lift.

Part 4

#original character #original fiction #romantic story

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personasintro · 4 years

Text

My Tiny Secret | 05; Name

𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 05; Name

⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.

⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader

⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut

⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: toxic relationship, mistress au, strong language

⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙

buy me a coffee?♡

unknown number: I think Yoojin is a beautiful name

You don't have to think about who sent you this message, knowing it could be only one person. One person whose number you blocked, but you're not surprised by the easiness of texting you despite of it. You blocked his number for a reason, a very specific one, but Kim Seokjin has no boundaries.

The message popped all of a sudden a day after you gave birth, along with congratulate messages you got from your family and friends. No one was supporting enough about your pregnancy and you know all those messages are genuine.

“You really need to give him a name. I'm kinda tired of calling him pumpkin.”

The gentle sound of Hoseok's voice leaves his lips as he holds your son in his arms, admiring the small baby in his hold. It was him who insisted of holding him and help him to sleep, claiming you need a rest. But you know he's already in love with him.

You glance at the message you haven't deleted yet, nor responded. It's not like you're planning on doing that. Yoojin. The name is cute and sounds beautiful, but once you actually realize it has 'Jin' in it, your mouth gets dry. Has he done it on purpose? Texting you a name which has some part of his own in it? He's ridiculous.

“Hey, what do you think about Yoojin?” you ask your best friend, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch beside you.

“Yoojin?” Hoseok asks, his heart-shaped lips slightly pouting as he curiously looks at you. He glances at the baby in his hold, smiling cutely at him before he nods along. “I think it suits him. It's nice.”

Standing up, you cringe at the slight throb between your legs since you're not completely healed from the labour. You just gave birth five days ago.

Hoseok eyes you carefully as if ready to stand up and help you, but you smile at him letting you know you're fine. You sit next to him, tucking a thin blanket from baby's chin to have a better look at him. He slightly squirms in Hoseok's hold but soundlessly continues to sleep.

Yoojin.

It really does suit him.

“How did it come up?” he asks softly, caressing your son's cheek with his point finger.

Gulping, you bite the inside of your cheek looking at your son. “I googled it.” you cringe at the lie coming straight out of your mouth.

And you feel bad to lie to Hoseok, that's the least he deserves. But it's coming from a good place with good intention. If Hoseok finds out the truth, that Seokjin contacted you and saw you other times than that one time you were shopping, he would flip out. He hates Seokjin's guts for valid reasons.

Hoseok has been always very protective of you and you can't imagine what he would do once he would found out. He would probably go to straight to his company, not caring about possible consequences of being throw out by Seokjin's security.

“You googled it?” he chuckles and for a second, you're scared he can see straight your lie. “Well, I was thinking more about some sentimental meaning behind the name, but I like it. It's really nice.” he jokes before a gentle smile settles on his lips.

“Yoojin.” you speak out softly, testing out the name loudly. Your son slightly moves with his tiny fingers with his eyes still closed, his mouth cutely pouting. You know he got them from him.

“I think he likes it.” Hoseok says and you snort.

“He doesn't even understands us.” you tell him with a chuckle at Hoseok's cuteness but he only scoffs in response, believing that your son hears you despite of his current state.

He's probably dreaming about your breast milk, your poor nipples are already so sensitive and cracked.

It feels unreal having a baby, an actual human being that you've to take care of. If it wasn't for Hoseok, you wouldn't be able to pay for all the baby's needs like stroller, crib or all the nappies.

It was only a couple of days after that you got more than interesting message.

'₩13000000,00 has been transferred to your account.'

Your eyes almost bulged out once you saw it. No, this can't be real. So you checked your bank account. It is real. You've never had that kind of money on your bank account, it's a lot.

You're not stupid. You know very well who could be able to send that kind of amount of money to your bank account. It surely isn't anyone from your family. And once you called to a bank, asking about information they confirmed it. Kim Seokjin sent you money.

So you asked Hoseok if he could watch Yoojin, which he gladly did. Of course, you never mentioned him those money. You will, once you'll solve it.

You need money. But not filthy ones and especially not from him. You could easily pay back to Hoseok with that amount, god, it would help your constant feeling of being burden so much. As much as Hoseok doesn't want you to pay him back, you have to. You've your own pride. And maybe that's the reason why you won't take those money. Because you've your pride. You won't let Seokjin control you while using the money to do it.

You never been to his company personally, his own house was the only place you both had your encounters. He tried to keep you away from his life as much as possible, that means not letting anyone know about you.

You're not surprised by the strict attire of all employees, wearing suits and dress shirt with pencil skirts. Trying to act as much natural as if you belong here, even though you're wearing just simple jeans with blouse that keeps your tendered breasts to breathe and not hurt that much, you successfully avoid to the receptionist behind the huge white desk. Luckily, she's on the phone with someone, so you got a chance to hide yourself if one of the elevators. You've no idea where you going, standing in an elevator with a man wearing, of course, a black suit. He taps into his phone while brief case in his other hand, while you nervously shift behind him.

“Do you know, by any chance, where Kim Seokjin's office is?” you ask him, your voice resounding against the metal walls of the elevator.

He looks up from the phone, his sharp eyes adverting to you as he eyes you for a moment. You think he's going to call a security, or whatever people here do when there is someone who isn't supposed to be here, before he answers.

“Top floor. At the end of the hall on the left side.”

“Thank you.”

Despite of your politeness, he doesn't say anything before he gets out of the elevator once it stops on sixth floor. The door closes behind him shortly after and you're left alone, letting out a shaky breath.

Fuck, why are you so nervous? You're going to kill that man. Why are you so nervous to face him?

Once you get to the top floor, which seems to be the busiest, you listen to the man's words and follow his instructions. You see couple of rooms with glass walls, seeing people having meetings. The place seems to be super busy but it holds this nice smell that you can't put your finger on. Everything looks expensive and modern and you know, this is where Seokjin comes from. This is his life. You were never part of that life, nor you will.

It's not that hard to find his office, the silver plate on the wall right next to door with 'CEO Kim Seokjin' written on it tells you you've found it. You ignore all the weird stares you get by the employees, probably wondering what a woman like you is doing here. So with a swift knock, you knock on his door listening patiently.

You were the one who decided to come here and confront him, but you wish he's having his late lunch break or whatever. Maybe you could leave and nobody would notice you--

“Come in.”

Fuck. It's his voice.

It seems hard and strong even through the barrier in form of black door, and your knees shake for a moment before you take a deep breath. This is it. You've to do this.

You snatch the door open, your figure barging in the huge room. It doesn't take a long for you to find him, sitting behind his desk with a few papers in his hands as he scans it before he's interrupted by the rude opening of the door. He looks up, his dark bangs pushed back showing his forehead as you immediately notice his plush lips contrasting with his honey skin.

He looks so much like Yoojin and you hate it. You hate that he's the father of your child. You hate that fact that Yoojin takes so much after his father. He's only two weeks old and he already looks so much like him.

Closing the door with a loud thud, you look back at him. His dark eyes are already soaking into yours, not really showing any emotion. If he's surprised, he's hiding it well.

“What are you doing here?” he asks lowly, speaking out first as you slowly walk up to his desk.

You ignore the way he stares at you, mostly feeling insecure. Your body isn't what it used to be, even though you can't even tell difference, as Hoseok says.

“Tables have turned, huh?” you can't help but chuckle bitterly, which he ignores and simply continues with staring at you.

So you open your bag, pulling out a couple of stacks of money, precisely wrapped as you throw it onto his desk.

“I know you're the one who sent me those,” you speak, raising your chin high while you're trying to hide your shaky hands. You give him a few seconds to deny it, but he doesn't and you know you've been right. He confirms your thoughts with silence, so you continue. “I don't want it. I don't need it.” you emphasize the word 'need'.

Does he think you're some charity case? As if he doesn't make you miserable and insecure enough.

“I could dispute about it,” he speaks, leaning against his chair confidently as he intertwines his fingers on his lap. “Did you seriously walk with those kind of money around city?”

You're taken back by that. Is that what he really cares about?

“Don't tell me you actually started to care about my safety.” you bitterly chuckle, finding that thought more than absurd and unrealistic.

He puts his mouth in straight line, your heart sinking down to your stomach and you don't even know. Why does he keep hurting you? Even with the smallest things.

“I sent you those money for our son.”

You grit your teeth at the mention of Yoojin.

“I told you--”

“I know what you told me,” he cuts you off, your mouth shuts right after once he speaks. “That doesn't mean I'm going to listen to you.”

You're speechless. Not in a good way though. He has the audacity to resists your words and wishes again.

“Listen,” he sighs, straightening up before he stands up. Your insides shakes once he stands tall behind the desk while buttoning up his suit. “I'm not going to give up. You can't take him away from me. I'm his father whether you like it or not. And we could do this the right way, or the rougher one.”

You gulp, a shiver creeping on your back as you lick your lips. “What do you mean?”

You probably got an idea, but you still have to ask.

“We'll make a deal, or I'm going to take this to court.” he speaks confidently, as if he absolutely made-up his mind about this and you know he's not bluffing.

You see the fire behind his eyes and how he dares you to say otherwise.

“Choose wisely, Y/N,” The usage of your name causes your breath to hitch. It feels weird hearing him to say it since he barely called you by your name. It was like he was trying to put as much distance from the two of you as he could. But now, he just speaks bluntly. “You know I'm a man of my word.”

You know that much. He told you he'd come back. He always did. He always kept his word no matter what, even though he never promised you anything close to an actual relationship.

“You say--” you take a deep breath, not letting him get through you. “You say that you want to be in his life. How do you want to do that when you can't even respect me as a woman? I'm his mother and all you've done is treat me like a piece of shit.” you tell him with disgust, the words you're letting out is burning your tongue as your features harden.

You feel like crying, knowing you never healed from how he treated you. You were just stupid enough to continue seeing him, you couldn't resist him. You gained some strength and confidence ever since you stopped seeing him, but he could still throw you off with a single word and specific tone like a house of cards.

“I never promised you anything. It always was just sex.” His tone isn't cold as you would expect it to be, he simply just reminds you.

You know he's right. He is not being rude, just honest. And you hate yourself for feeling this certain way that makes you want to bawl your eyes out. You don't love him, but you at least felt something for him. You're nothing to him. He makes you feel like nothing.

“That doesn't make up for your attitude.” you point out and he walks around the desk, stepping closer to you and you slightly flinch away but he doesn't seem to be phased.

“You say I don't respect you as a woman or mother,” he bluntly ignores your previous words which annoys you. “But do you respect me as a father?”

He doesn't sound anywhere near emotional, almost emotionless but that doesn't come as surprise to you. You got used to it. That's what doesn't make any sense to you. When he saw Yoojin for the first time, or when he wasn't even born yet, he seemed like a person who is capable of feelings. You've never seen him that way.

His question catches you off guard. And you grow only more irritated with him because this is just his way of turning things against you. When you point some thing out, he does the same to you without properly giving you an answer. He is a wise man, there is no doubt of that. He actually thinks he's better than anyone.

What are you supposed to say?

'I won't respect you because you never respected me'?

That sounds just childish. It's like 'you first then I'll' children use to say whenever they're bickering.

“Seokjin,” you speak up, letting his name out of your mouth after a long time. “This is just plain stupid. I'm not doing this with you.” you shake your head.

“Is it? How is it stupid that I want to be in my son's life?” he asks you, raising his tone just slightly to let you know he's not playing around. You never thought he is in the first place.

“Because it is!” you bark, not able to hold it in. “Because there is no way you don't have some intention behind this! There is no way you suddenly want to just be a father. Let's not forget that you've tried to buy him from me! Buy, Seokjin! That's so fucked up!”

He doesn't seem to be surprised by the loudness of your voice. “You don't know me,” he barks out this time, but still quieter than you did. “I thought you don't wanna raise a kid.”

“So, what? You thought buying a baby that wasn't even born yet is a good idea?” you let out a bitter chuckle, your eyes wetting up with unnecessary tears.

“Look, I know that wasn't good of me. I never had an intention to take him away from you. I just thought, considering your financial situation, that you would just-- and me and my wife have been trying-- it doesn't matter.” he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he exhales.

“It does matter! It matters to me.” you tell him, letting out a soft whimper as you quickly wipe away your tears that threatened to fall.

“Nothing I could say will help or make things better.”

And for the first time, you feel like you're both on the same page about something.

“But you could try.” you whisper, biting your lower lip as his eyes linger on you.

You feel pathetic to cry in front of him. He has seen you cry too much for the past few months, or at least this vulnerable. You used to mask it until you were alone, not anymore.

“I'm trying,” he tells you, his fingers finding their way to his dark locks as he brushes through them. “Don't you see, I'm trying? You want to be his mother and I respect that. Because you are and it doesn't matter that I'm fucking married and that I was supposed to get my wife pregnant, not you. But here we're.”

You're speechless with your mouth opened as you feel your eyes slightly getting swollen by the burn feeling.

“So either we're going to do this together, or I'll take it to court. I want to be in my son's life.” he tells you firmly, his cold side back.

So you dryly gulp the lump in your throat and with your heart beating loudly in your ears, you blink couple of times.

You know he has his rights and that he's Yoojin's father. You don't want him to be in his life, knowing he hurt you so much and that he just isn't a good person. And if you don't agree now, there is a chance he'll ruin you. He'll take Yoojin from you.

“Do you promise not to take him away from me?” you ask quietly, your voice shivering.

The simple thought just makes you want to curl in a ball and cry yourself to sleep. You can't loose him.

“Not when you'll cooperate.” he tells you, relaxing his features for a moment but you don't dwell on it although, it's a rare sight to see. Especially when it's aimed at you.

“Fine,” you breathe out, your shoulders tensing. “But I don't want that money.”

“Those money are for my son.”

“Our son.” you quickly correct him with furrowed brows and he smirks.

“Yeah, exactly,” he nods and you know he did that just to annoy you. He liked it to hear finally saying it's not just your son, but his as well. “So, you'll take that money back or you know what? Don't. I will transfer it to you. Don't walk with that kind of money just like that.” he tells you, turning around and picking up his phone from the desk.

You stand there all dumbfounded, blinking as he types something before he takes all the stuck of money and hides it in one of the draws.

“I told you--”

“I know, but let me take care of him.” he cuts you off, not even looking at you and with a huff, you don't try to insist anymore.

At the end of the day, he's always going to do what he wants. And if this means he can ensure Yoojin's better life, that you can't give him, so be it.

#bts smut #bts angst #kim seokjin au #seokjin x reader #seokjin drabble #jin x reader #bts au #bts drabbles #mistress!au #personasintro

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