#i need to find that post now it was so pretty
Nat x Avenger reader where Nat Is mad at reader for whatever reason and Reader is just doing ANYTHING to get Nat to talk to her (Wrapping arms around her waist,Twirling her,kissing her,waist pulling,randomly picking Nat up-stuff like that)
Pairing: Natasha x f!Reader
Warnings: Slight angst
a/n: This isn't as fluffy as I'd like it to be but I'm just gonna post it anyways :)
You're pretty stupid but you've never been this stupid before.
You were at a Stark party celebrating who knows what and Carol had been extremely touchy with you.
Not just the occasional touches, Carol would rest her hand on top of your thigh and lean on your shoulder. You were quite drunk so you honestly thought that was your girlfriend's on you.
Until Natasha had ripped you away from Carol and demanded that you both go home.
Natasha was silent the whole time she drove back to the apartment, which normally you would have said something but the alcohol was hurting your brain and you couldn't think straight.
When you arrived back home Natasha had gotten out of the car and slammed the door behind her loudly. You frowned, understanding she was upset but having no clue why.
You don't remember much but you remember going upstairs and falling asleep straight away.
You groaned when you woke up, the aftereffect of the alcohol hitting you like a bus.
You reached out for Natasha so you could cuddle with her but you were met with cold sheets.
Your eyes snapped open and you immediately got out of bed and went looking for her.
"Nat?" You called out, your voice full of panic.
You were panicking. Natasha would never, ever leave the house without saying something and she is always in the bed with you when you wake up.
You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Natasha sitting on the couch watching some random Netflix show.
"Jesus, Nat, you scared me." You sat next to her and propped your feet up on the coffee table.
When Natasha didn't say anything, you took your feet down and turned to face her with a confused look.
"Did you have fun with Carol last night?" Her voice was calm, weirdly calm.
"Carol?" You were confused, you didn't spend much time with Carol.
"Yes, Carol Danvers. Did you enjoy her touching you?" Natasha's voice was still calm but you noticed the clench in her jaw.
You frowned, "Natasha- I don't even remember spending time with Carol, I was with you the whole night, was I not?" You swear you didn't even talk to Carol much, let alone let her touch you.
Natasha scoffed, "Yeah, right, Y/n."
Natasha stood up and left the living room, heading down to her office room.
You sat there in confusion. Did Carol touch you? No, you would never let that happen.
With a groan, you decide to text Wanda to find out what happened.
You: Hey, Wands. Did Carol touch me at all last night?
Wanda: She was literally all over you, Y/n.
You groaned again.
You: Wanda, I was so drunk last night, I have no memory of this.
Wanda: She was leaning on your shoulder and was resting her hand on your thigh. I've never seen Natasha look so pissed off before.
Well, that explained her behavior towards you this morning.
You: Okay, thank you.
You clicked your phone off and stuffed it in your pocket.
You now understood why she was acting like that and she had every right to act like that. You were a drunk idiot who couldn't even tell the difference between your girlfriend's or your friend's hand.
You stood up and walked down to Natasha's office and paused when you saw her door was shut. She had strictly told you when you first started dating that if her office door is closed that you do not come in.
You bit your lip. You didn't want Natasha to become angrier at you and it'd be a stupid decision to go knock on her door and open it right now, wouldn't it? Yes, it would.
You decided to go do it anyway, needing to apologise to her before she got too mad.
You heard shuffling and the sounds of Natasha's chair rolling back and forth as you arrived closer to the room. She normally did that to calm herself down.
You raised your closed fist up to the door and knocked softly, "Nat, Can I come in, please?"
There wasn't an answer for a bit and you debated leaving until she spoke, "Is my door open?"
You swallowed, "No, but-"
"Then no, you may not come in."
You sighed sadly and walked over to the living room, plopping yourself down on the couch.
The TV show Natasha was watching was still playing so you switched that off and decided to go take a shower and brush your teeth as you didn't do that when you got home, then work on some mission reports you hadn't finished.
Natasha had been cooped up in her office all day and you had made meals for her, leaving them outside her door.
You expected her to stay there until bedtime but were surprised when she came out of her office.
She walked over to the kitchen and started pulling out ingredients for what you assumed was dinner.
You got up from the couch and walked over to Natasha.
Natasha was trying to grab a bowl from a cabinet that she was too short to get. You held back the urge to tease her about her being short and snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist as you leaned on top of her to grab the bowl.
You felt Natasha lean into your touch but she immediately pulled herself slightly away from you, still letting her back touch your front though.
You held the bowl in front of her with a smile, "Here you go, princess."
Natasha hummed and stepped out of your grasp, grabbing the bowl. She went back over to the counter and started cutting up some tomatoes.
You followed her and stood behind her, resting your head on her shoulder and your hands on her waist.
Natasha didn't say anything or pull back this time so you started to place soft kisses around her neck, causing her to shudder.
You smiled at the effect you had on her.
"I'm sorry for what I did, Natty." You mumbled, watching her slice through some carrots.
"Go set the table," Natasha ordered you to do softly, ignoring your apology.
You nodded and placed one final kiss on her cheek before you stepped away and set the table.
There was no talking while you both ate.
It was probably the most awkward silence you've ever been in and you hated every second of it.
You did try to talk to her but she gave you these nasty side glances that made you shut up.
After dinner, Natasha helped you put the dirty plates away and then went back to her office.
You didn't get to say goodnight to Natasha before she ran off to her office so you walked down to her office wanting to say goodnight to her before bed.
Her door was closed again so you didn't ask to come in.
"Night, Natty." You said with a small smile.
If Natasha replied to you, you didn't hear it as you walked away from the door and headed up to bed.
You felt awful that your drunk ass had let Carol touch you and you really wanted to apologise to Natasha but she wasn't interested in talking to you at the moment, so you decided you'd start doing small things to get her to talk to you.
The next morning, you found Natasha sitting on the couch watching some youtube videos.
You walked in front of her and picked her up, turning around so she could sit on your lap.
You let out a quiet 'oof' when you sat down on the couch as Natasha accidentally (well, you hope it was an accident) elbowed your gut.
You repositioned Natasha so she was comfortable which left you in a slightly uncomfortable position but you didn't really mind.
You half expect Natasha to get up from your lap but to your surprise, she leaned into your front. She didn't look at you or speak to you but you were happy she was letting you hold her.
Your hands that rested on her stomach started drawing light patterns all over her stomach causing her to shudder.
You smirked at her reaction but didn't say anything.
After a couple of episodes, Natasha got up from your lap without a word and walked back down to her office.
You were disappointed she left you but was happy she let you hold her.
When you went to see what Natasha wanted for lunch, you smiled when you saw her office door was open.
You walked in and saw Natasha hunched over her desk, tapping away at her keyboard.
You walked behind her and rested your head on her shoulder and rested your arms around her neck. Natasha looked at you this time but didn't say anything.
You kissed her neck softly, "Can we have lunch together, please?" You were desperate to apologise to her so she'd stop giving you the silent treatment.
Natasha leaned back into the chair, tilting her head up at you. You stared down at her with a smile and pecked her lips. You saw a quick smile form on Natasha's face but it quickly disappeared.
"Depends, what are we having?" Just hearing Natasha's voice again made you smile.
"Whatever you want, sweetheart." You rubbed small circles on her neck.
Natasha closed her eyes and hummed, contemplating if she should have lunch with you after the little stunt Carol pulled and you let her get away with it.
"How sorry are you, Y/n?" She asked, opening her eyes so she could look at you.
"Natasha, I am so, so sorry. I love you so much and I swear to god, I didn't know it was Carol, I had too much alcohol in my system and it messed with my brain," You started to ramble "I would never let Carol touch me like that, you know I just see her as a friend, Natty. But I'm so sorry."
Natasha smiled at your apology, she was happy with your apology.
"I will forgive you, Y/n, but, mark my words when I say I will not speak to you for weeks if it happens again," Natasha warns with a firm voice.
You nodded quickly, "It'll never happen again, I promise."
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the one where nextdoorneighbour!sirius forms a plan to get you on your knees for him (1.4k)
Sirius Black x Fem!Reader, nextdoorneighbour!sirius, d/s dynamics, smut, oral sex, deepthroating, cum swallowing, innocence kink, size kink, kinda virgin!reader but not heavily implied, insinuations that reader has a lighter skin tone (blushing) insinuations that reader has hair that can be pulled, mentions of female receiving, based on this headcanon
you walk up to his front door, your pretty little sundress dancing in the cool, summer breeze, not noticing the raven-haired male who lurks behind the curtains. he’s eagerly anticipating your arrival, having ignored the postman earlier that morning, praying to god it would be delivered to you instead. i just want to meet her, he thinks - believing he’s just being neighbourly. well, neighbours don’t usually greet you half-naked now, do they?
the door swings open and immediately you find yourself becoming flustered under his gaze - you’d heard about the man that lives next door from the ladies across the street and had listened to their jealousy of you being able to live right next door to him over tea, but you’d never expected him to look this good. you can’t help but become shy under his gaze as soon as he opens the door, wearing nothing except his boxers.
he almost coos at your state when he opens the door, a flush licking up your neck until it settles on your pretty cheeks, your eyes dipping down until they hover over your sandal covered feet, trying desperately to not ogle his half-naked form. she’s adorable, he thinks - glad and proud of himself for fabricating such an introduction.
“hello sweetheart, what’s this? y’selling cookies or something?” your soft giggle spurs a glint to blossom in his eyes, a familiar tingle churning in his stomach. you’re even better than he imagined.
“no,” you chuckle. “here’s your post. got dropped off at mine this morning.” your hands brush as he takes the stack of letters from you and it takes every ounce of sanity in you to not sneak a quick glance at his boxer clad hips.
“well darling, i certainly wouldn’t mind you being the postal service around here from now on. especially if y’carry on wearing those little dresses. i’ll see you later, pet.” you definitely will, you think.
it’s a mere few days later the same incident occurs and you find yourself feeling all bubbly inside, as you approach his front door once again, his stack of bills and statements clasped in your hands. you feel as if you’ve forgotten how to breathe this time round, being greeted with the sight of your next door neighbour, dressed in nothing but a towel - droplets of water decorating his bare body. your eyes can’t help but drop down to his lower torso, seeing the towel clinging to his hips, a little trail of hair dipping down to something you’ve daydreamed about the past couple nights. suddenly, your knees feel weak and your tummy has a strange tingling feeling brewing inside it.
“oh hello again darling, sorry - just got out of the shower.” he greets, towel drying his hair off at the front door. “oh shit, did I miss the postman again?” he laughs, faking his surprise at not receiving his post yet again!
“don’t even worry about it - besides, i’m happy to help you whenever you need it. whatever it is.” oh, he thinks.
“whatever i need?” his tone is laced with some sort of implication, though you couldn’t exactly decipher it.
“of course, i’m always happy to help you, nothing too big can stop me!” really, huh?
“perfect darling, i’m sure you’ll get something out of this one too.” he leads you down the hall, one hand placed firmly on the curve of your spine, his strong arms sticking to your sundress with the dampness still residing there. “‘s just in the sitting room, sweetheart.”
you both arrive in the room, decorated with motorbike magazines and vinyls scattered all around. “so, what’s this big thing you need help with?”
“it’s a bit of a…personal issue. you see - i’ve been single for quite a while and I can’t seem to remember how t’get myself off. could you help me?” he can’t wait to see you drunk off his cock.
“get you off? y’mean you’re - ” you gesture to his body, still covered by a towel. that’s until he begins to unwrap it and what’s revealed is even better than the one in your daydreams. his cock is long and slender, though you know it will stretch you beautifully. it’s still slightly damp from his shower, but it’s hard and roughed and little drops of precum weep from the pretty slit at the top. you find your cunt throbbing at even a mere sight of it.
“if y’don’t mind, darling.” he sits back against the sofa, spreading his legs just wide enough for you to be able to crawl beneath them, the angle giving him the slightest peak of your cleavage beneath your dress. he guides you in how to start off, sensing your hesitation at not knowing what to do. he grasps your hand and wraps it around the base, the size difference causing his cock to throb in your little hand. his eyes flutter closed as you squeeze a little bit, moving your hand up and down experimentally. fuck, she’s perfect.
he’s so pretty like this, you think, becoming more and more confident as you absorb his reactions to your touch. “there we go, atta girl. now y’gonna be a good little one and suck it a bit? s’like a lolly.”
your tongue darts out to the taste the head of his cock, the salty taste of his precum bleeding onto your tongue, stimulating your taste buds and leaving you wanting even more. your licks become more and more frequent, until you’re lapping up just his pearly release and nothing more. he can’t help but be captivated by you - who knew everything he wanted would be right next door? “now y’gonna wanna take it in y’mouth and suck it and you’ll get even more of that nice taste, yeah?”
you’re eager to do so now, having become transfixed and drunk on the flavour of his cock. his length bulges from your cheeks as you take him in, tears springing to your eyelids as you try and get used to the feeling. the sensation is weird - your mouth completely full and barely being able to breathe, but with the way he looks at you, you can’t resist continuing.
he has a dark look in his eyes as he watches you try your best to take his entire girth, saliva dribbling down your stretched lips until it resides in your chin, your eyes wide and glassy. “fuck, you’re the prettiest little thing down there.”
you hum around him at his praise, feeling arousal bubble in your cunt, slick beginning to dampen your thighs. fuck, he looks so good up there.
his hands play with your hair, grabbing onto the strands until he has a firm grip on your hair and that’s when he begins to take over. he moves your head back and forth on his length until you’re bobbing, your tongue licking up his length and swirling around the head. his hips begin to rise and fall at your bobs, until the tip hits the back of your throat, bruising the appendage to the point where you know little marks will be left behind.
his legs begin to tremble, his damp tummy clenching and quivering and despite your inexperience, you know he’ll be finishing soon. your pace quickens, your fingernails digging into his thighs, leaving little crescent moon indents behind in their wake.
“fuck, ‘m gonna cum. gonna take it all? fucking course you are,” he breathes, pushing your head down until your nose tickles the snatch of clipped curls on his pubic bone. you find yourself surprised as the first streams of his release hit the back of your throat, but then the taste stimulates your tastebuds once again and you begin to lap it up, milking his cock until he’s hissing through his teeth with the overstimulation.
his hand cradles your cheek, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as you melt into his touch, craving the affection that comes with his gesture.
“y’look so pretty in that little dress, with y’mouth all over my cock. i might be tempted to divert all my post to your address if this is what the new postal service is gonna look like. now, y’gonna flip that skirt and show me that pretty cunt and i’ll help y’out?”
follow @lonelyheartslibrary to be notified when i post a fic !!
ty my darlings @wolfstar-lb & @bellatrixscurls for the help !!
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california wishing on these stars
[read on ao3] | buck/eddie | part one of seven
happy buddie week! here's my meager offering. it's one story told through the seven prompts, and i'll (obviously) be posting a chapter every day. hopefully you can put up with pining idiot eddie, my beloved, until sunday.
Day 1: “Did I make you blush?”
Eddie is thirty-four years old.
Eddie is thirty-four years old, and has two months of therapy under his belt, and would like to think that he’s a grown man reasonably in touch with his feelings. He’d like to think he has his life in order, and most days, he even manages to put up a convincing front: he gets up with the first ring of the alarm, feeds his son an acceptably nutritious breakfast, gets him to school on time, gets to work on time. He’s on top of his laundry and the cleaning, and he hasn’t forgotten to pay a bill in at least a couple of months.
He’s grown, and responsible, and managing.
Until he’s undone by a probie.
“It was a different time,” is what he hears when he climbs up the stairs on a perfectly normal Tuesday morning. “I’m not like that now.”
“No, I know that,” Ravi says, and Eddie conquers the top step to see him sitting on the coffee table, leaning into Buck’s space. Hen and Chim are sitting on the armrests of the couch like gargoyles, and Buck’s right in the middle curling up on himself in a way that immediately makes Eddie’s hackles rise. “I don’t need to hear about your hookups, but it’s like—you said women flee you?”
“I fled this one,” Buck mumbles, and Eddie takes a sharp right from where he was headed for the coffee machine. “It’s nothing to write home about, honestly. It was—amicable, or whatever.”
Eddie resolutely doesn’t feel joy. He doesn’t feel happy that his best friend apparently broke up with his terrible, terrible girlfriend, because he’s thirty-four years old and on his way to well-adjusted.
“I mean,” Chim says carefully, catching Eddie’s eye over Buck’s head, “you don’t exactly seem bummed out about it.”
Buck opens his mouth, but he hesitates. It’s enough to get Eddie to swoop in, to put his hands on the back of the couch either side of Buck’s head.
“What’s this?” he asks, and if Buck’s surprised to realize Eddie’s there, he doesn’t show it. All he does tip his head back so he can look at Eddie, the left corner of his mouth curling up in a smile.
“I’m single,” he says, lifting one arm to give a half-hearted jazz hand. “As of this morning.”
That’ll answer the question of why Eddie’s the last to find out, at least. It’s definitely not something he was beginning to get upset about. Not even a little bit.
“I’m sorry,” he says, too quietly for the firehouse. Hen and Chim are definitely doing their eyebrow thing where he’s not looking.
“Nah,” Buck waves a hand, “it’s fine, I think. It wasn’t—good. For either of us.”
“But he’s refusing to tell us about it,” Hen says, giving Eddie a look full of meaning he can’t exactly decipher. “Because he already talked to Dr. Copeland.”
“Which is very mature and responsible and we’re very proud of him,” says Chim, also staring at Eddie like he’s Buck’s fucking keeper. “But we’re gonna need a little more than that after more than half a year.”
God, has it been—God.
Eddie looks back down. Buck’s eyes are still on him, blue on blue in the bright light of the morning, and he does look okay. A little wilted around the edges, but Eddie’s pretty sure it’s nothing that an afternoon building Legos with Christopher can’t fix.
He reaches down to squeeze Buck’s shoulder, runs a hand up to the back of his neck.
Buck sighs, so heavily and for so long Eddie could swear his body actually deflates. He looks away, then, fixes his eyes on the blank screen of the TV just over Ravi’s shoulder.
“I wasn’t in love with her,” he says, the hint of a tremor in his voice. “Never have been, so. I figured at this point, it just wasn’t going to happen.”
As one, Hen and Chim slide off the armrests, crowding Buck until he’s squished between them. He makes an indignant noise, but he also pushes back into Eddie’s hands, leans back into the couch, and laughs so quietly it’s just a rumble in his chest.
“I’m okay,” he says, and sounds okay. “Just—feeling a little embarrassed, I guess.”
“This is why I asked about your previous relationships,” Ravi says, staring at the four of them in a pile like they’re zoo animals doing something particularly cute. “Have you been in love before?”
Buck clears his throat. He looks down at his hands in his lap, and hangs his head. Eddie immediately puts his hands on Buck’s shoulders, finding the tension bunched up where it usually rests and digging in.
“Yeah,” Buck says, weakly. “But she wasn’t in love with me, that time. It didn’t feel like I thought it should, and then this time—this time she was in love with me, and it didn’t feel like I thought it should, so I’m just—I guess I must have like, a middle schooler’s idea of what love is.”
“Buckaroo, that’s not true,” Hen says, squeezing his arm because Eddie’s occupying his shoulders. “You’re the most intuitively loving person I know.”
Eddie’s heart gives an insistent knock against his ribcage. He doesn’t know what that’s about.
“Sure,” Buck laughs, suddenly and bitterly self-deprecating. Chim very gently slaps him on the head. “Just not in romantic relationships, apparently.”
Before Eddie can say something, Ravi leans even further forward, pulling one of his legs up onto the coffee table.
“What do you think it’s supposed to be?” he asks, wide-eyed and earnest like he’s going to take notes. “Love, I mean.”
Buck rubs a hand over his face. Eddie gently scratches through the short hair at the back of his neck.
“I just want to be myself,” Buck mumbles, still hiding behind his hand. “Like—without pretending. I want to be able to be myself and have the other person see me for who I am, and—I don’t know. I’d like someone who makes me laugh and maybe gives me a hug without me asking and can put up with my fucked up brain. I don’t know if that’s too much to ask.”
Eddie blinks. His fingers tighten on Buck, completely without his input, digging so deep into the muscle he imagines he can feel the fibers.
“It’s not,” Chim, Hen, and Ravi say in unison. Eddie, Buck’s single friend whose wife left him and whose last girlfriend departed his life because he literally kicked her out of the house, elects to stay silent.
“Those are like—basic prerequisites for being in a relationship,” Ravi says, with the air of someone who knows what he’s talking about. Eddie hates him, if only a little, for being an apparently normal human being. “If you’re not feeling supported emotionally, then it’d be really hard to—Buck, are you blushing? Did I make you blush? I’m sorry.”
Buck laughs, a little pained, and puts his other hand over his face too.
“Like I said,” he mumbles, “just embarrassed. I should have this figured out by now. It’s getting harder to find people who’ll put up with me.”
And just like that, Eddie finds his voice.
“You’re not something to put up with,” he says, and has to consciously relax his hands so he doesn’t give Buck bruises. “And if Taylor thought that, then good riddance.”
Hen and Chim do the eyebrows. Then, to Eddie’s horror, Chim does the eyebrows at Ravi, and Ravi seems to understand what they mean, because the three of them get up in perfect sync and walk off toward the kitchen.
“You’re not something to put up with,” Eddie repeats, quieter. Buck won’t look at him, so he lets go of his shoulders and rounds the couch, slumping into Buck’s side without giving him a choice. “Okay? You deserve someone who loves you exactly as you are. Because of who you are.”
And it feels a little safer, now that the others are far enough away, to admit to himself how glad he is that Taylor Kelly wasn’t that person. She’d been fine, really, while her and Buck were together, polite enough to everyone, only a little awkward around the rest of the 118, but there was—something in the way she looked at Buck, in the way she held his hand and kissed him on the cheek, that set Eddie on edge.
“I guess,” Buck sighs, but he’s twisting his fingers together, knuckles going white with the pressure, and Eddie won’t be having that.
He tugs on Buck’s sleeve. One tug gets him to look up, the second tug gets a frown. On the third tug, Buck finally understands and slumps into Eddie’s side, tucking himself under Eddie’s waiting arm.
“Someone’s going to love you the way you deserve,” he says into Buck’s hair, and only allows it because they’re as alone as they can be up here. He doesn’t know that he believes in love for himself anymore, but Buck? If there’s any justice left in the universe, Buck will find someone who’s at least remotely worthy of him. “You just have to be patient for a little while longer.”
Buck huffs. The warm puff of it breaks over Eddie’s neck.
“Thanks, Eddie,” he says, barely audible. His voice is stuck somewhere halfway up his throat, like it does when he’s upset and trying to make sure nobody notices, so Eddie presses a dry kiss to his temple, and says:
“Do you know how long it’s been since you last came to ours?”
And Buck laughs in response. “Nine days,” he says, without a hint of uncertainty.
“Okay,” says Eddie. “We’re breaking that streak after shift tomorrow. Christopher’s got an art project due on Thursday, and last time I tried to help him he told me my stick people look like they got caught in a tornado.”
And I want you with us, he doesn’t say. To keep an eye. To make you smile.
Buck breathes. “Can we go straight from here?” he asks, his voice small. “I don’t really want to—“
“Of course we can,” Eddie interrupts, daring to run a careful hand through the side of Buck’s hair where it’s not as full of product. “Whatever you want.”
And the bell finally rings for the first time that morning.
Eddie hasn’t had time to have his coffee, and so he blames it on the lack of caffeine at first first when he gets up and stumbles a little. But then he follows on Buck’s heels, watches him grin at Hen when he pulls his suspenders up, looks at the way Buck closes his eyes and tilts his face towards the sun with an absentminded smile when they’re in the truck, and thinks—of Taylor.
Taylor, who is no longer in their lives. She’s been a roadblock for the longest time, a hard stop that cut off so many of Eddie’s thoughts halfway.
What if—but Buck’s with Taylor.
He could’ve sworn—but Buck’s with Taylor.
Sometimes he wonders—but Buck’s with Taylor.
And now he isn’t.
And Eddie thinks about the way he’d pulled Buck into a hug, without asking, and made him laugh because he knew exactly how to do it. He thinks about tomorrow, when the two of them will go down post-shift in Eddie’s bed and probably wake up to Christopher jumping in with them, and thinks about the way his chest will flood all the way to the top with something unnamable and warm when Buck and Christopher get sucked into their project and forget he’s there.
He leans back into his seat and closes his eyes.
What if? he thinks, and has nothing left to hide behind.
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I can't believe what I've found
A new multi-chapter fic begins!! Huge thanks to @minky-for-short for the idea and my gorgeous love @nb-fearne for being a beta reader!
Caleb Widogast is famous. He's one of the most prolific and most spine-tingling horror authors currently on the scene, putting out nightmares like clockwork ever since he started his career, coming simply out of nowhere.
Until he went quiet. And now he's apparently writing a children's book of all things?
Gods only know how this will turn out.
The only thing worse than giving interviews, Caleb reflected miserably, was reading them back the next day.
Veth told him not to. Beau told him not to. Percy told him not to. The small part of his brain that could be rational this early in the morning told him not to. But every time he would memorise when the interview was going up, whether it was being broadcast on the radio or printed in a magazine or, like this one, posted to the internet. And still, ten minutes before that time would find him frantically refreshing the front page of the book review site, waiting for it to appear so he could read it and feel like shit about himself.
And around half an hour later, Veth would let herself into his flat to find the man himself with his shirt pulled up over his head, face down on the kitchen table, moaning in misery as his laptop cast a baleful glow over his bedhead.
“I told you not to read it,” was all she said that morning, setting a takeaway cup of coffee and a wrapped croissant from the cafe beside him. Veth had learned a long time ago that Caleb needed to be fed at times, in pretty much the same way you fed a feral cat who frequented your garden.
“Why do I keep agreeing to do this?” Caleb lifted his head at the smell of warm butter and crisp pastry, snagging the edge of the paper bag with a finger.
Veth took the seat across from her friend, starting to shift through some of the clutter on the table, just one puddle of the wider garbage ocean that built up in the flat when Caleb was in one of his moods, “Well, my apologies for neglecting to explain this to you, being your agent and all. But when authors have a new book coming out, they do what’s called press? So people actually know the book is coming out so they can buy it.”
Caleb gave her sarcasm an unimpressed stare, chin now dusted in croissant flakes, “You think this is going to improve my sales?” He turned back to the screen, back to the article, jabbing an accusing finger at one paragraph in particular, “You would think the dark minded architect of some of the most twisted horror novels in the last ten years would cut a more impressive figure. But Caleb Widogast- assumed to be his pen name- turns up to our interview having spilled coffee down the front of his yellow flannel shirt while on the bus and apologising profusely.”
Veth couldn’t help her mouth twitching up into a smile, “Well, we got the stain out of that shirt in the end, didn’t we?”
Caleb ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up even worse and scrolled down to another bit, “When asked how he fills the pages of a frankly ridiculous number of novels with such nightmares, Widogast just shrugs. “I don’t know where it comes from,” he admits in his humble Zemnian countryside accent, “I suppose I did not realise how it would affect other people. Of course I didn’t fucking know, that question wasn’t on the list they sent me.”
Veth’s mouth did tighten at that, “Wasn’t it? Interesting. Last time we do any PR with that site then.”
“‘Humble’. Ficker,” Caleb muttered darkly as he scrolled, “More thinly veiled insults...Gods, okay, I get it, I look like a librarian. Do these people expect me to show up covered in blood? Ach and then this...After an hour or so of slightly awkward conversation, Widogast finally gives us a scoop. I asked why, after so many years of staggering productivity, has the resistant horror master gone suddenly silent? Six months without more nightmares on the shelves when he’s used to putting out at least a book a year. Well it turns out Widogast is working on something new. It’s just not going to be in the section you’re expecting. Parents, get ready for months of bed wetting and your kids sleeping between you because Caleb Widogast is turning his hand to picture books.”
Veth winced a little, folding her hands around the cup of coffee she’d brought for herself, just for something to do with them, “Ah. Right.”
Caleb finally shut the laptop, apparently even he had limits on how much damage he was willing to do to himself, “Veth, this is exactly what I knew would happen. This is why I shouldn’t have done this!”
He looked despairing, the telltale signs of a panic attack leeching in through the way he was tugging on the sleeves of his jumper, the way his leg was bouncing, the way his eyes were starting to unfocus. Within a second, Veth was on her feet and jumping down from the chair, moving to hold her friend’s shoulders tight, having to stand on her tiptoes.
“Caleb, it was one bad interview, okay? They won’t all be like this, I promise.”
Caleb’s eyes said he didn’t know if he wanted her to be right or not. Veth had seen that expression on his face a lot over the years she’d been his agent, mostly when she’d first convinced him he should publish some of the piles of composition notebooks he’d filled with pencil chicken scratch, telling him that if getting it out made him feel better then surely putting them out into the world would help even more. And if she didn’t know how right she’d been, she would have gladly let Caleb retreat backwards into his safe, comfortable life publishing pulpy horror novels and making a small fortune he donated ninety nine per cent of to charity.
But Veth had been right about publishing his work, first online and then as actual books when there was an immediate interest, she’d been right that he would feel that weight on his chest lift even more with every pair of eyes that read his work. And she was going to be right about this too.
So she put her hand on Caleb’s rough cheek, prompting him to look at her. There were red rings around his eyes from his night of poor sleep, his mouth turned down at the edges, his jaw scraping and slightly rusty from his incoming beard.
“You know why you’re doing this,” Veth said gently, telling him not exactly what he wanted to hear but what he needed to hear, “That’s enough. You’re enough. Yeah?”
It took a moment but Caleb finally nodded, the fact that he’d at least managed to sleep, the fact that he’d eaten and drank and he’d closed the laptop when it had gotten too much helping him see what was real, past the dark clouds at the edges of his mind.
“Exactly,” Veth gave his cheek one last pat before letting him go, “And for what it’s worth, people are really excited about this new book. People who aren’t assholes who just want to get eyes on their dumb internet articles.”
“I don’t know about that,” Caleb shrugged, taking another long sip of his coffee to stop the lingering shakes in his hands, “Excitement could really quickly turn to disappointment when they actually read it.”
Veth snorted at that, picking up her messenger bag and throwing it back over her shoulder. It rattled as she did so, probably with buttons and trinkets she kept in there to entertain her baby son or herself when she was bored in her days full of meetings negotiating deals for clients. She hadn’t been a literary agent before she met Caleb but now she was, she was a damned good and busy one.
“Then let's enjoy it while it lasts, huh?”
Caleb grunted at that, now down to the bitter dregs. He swallowed those too before he asked, a little guilty, “You came all the way down here to pull me out of a self loathing spiral with a croissant?”
Veth tilted her head, “That..and also to remind you about the launch party tonight.” She said the last part quickly like she was hoping to get out of the door before he’d fully processed it.
No such luck. Caleb gave a strangled groan, hands flying over his face before he slumped down across the table again.
“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck shit fuck.”
Veth sighed, turning back and mentally shifting her schedule back by ten minutes, “Come on, Caleb, we made our peace with this…”
Caleb’s voice being muffled by his palms and his kitchen table didn’t hide the despair in it, “Why didn’t I just be one of those authors who lives in a cabin in the woods and won’t appear in public?”
“It isn’t public!” Veth insisted, her voice placating like she was trying to get a frightened kitten out from under the fridge, “It’s being thrown by the publishing house, it’ll just be people you already know! Well…”
Caleb’s blue eye peeked out from between his fingers, accusing, “Well what?”
Veth took a deep breath and held up her hands, “Okay, I was going to let it happen a little more naturally but...I think that might be a bad idea. Percy thinks he’s found your artist.”
Caleb shot upright, an expression on his face that was hard to read but looked like it could go a number of ways. It looked like the expression a computer might have when it was fed incorrect data.
Veth played with one of her button earrings, a sign she was getting slightly nervous, “Obviously, Percy wouldn’t make any decisions without checking it over with you. He’s just found someone whose portfolio looks really good and whose style really seems to match what you’ve written so far, that’s all. He just wanted you to bump into each other tonight, get talking and see what you thought.”
Caleb’s heavy brows furrowed, “Percy would never assume I’d talk to someone at a party.”
Veth gave a little laugh at the indignant expression on her friend’s face, “Maybe he was living in hope. But that is actually what you’re supposed to do at these things, you know. It’s called networking.”
“Disgusting,” Caleb grunted dismissively, clearly wanting to pull on an earlier thread of conversation, “But who are they, this artist? What do they do, have they done picture books before? Have they read the manuscript? What did they think?”
Veth chuckled, gently blocking the tidal wave of questions she could see building behind those few, “Okay so? That is exactly what you say to them when you meet them!”
Her friend’s face pinched unhappily, a war clearly happening between his dislike of parties and his desperate need for answers to those questions. That was the way of it with Caleb, dangling a carrot that was bigger than the stick he’d beat himself with.
Eventually he blew out his cheeks in frustration, rubbing a sweater covered fist into his eyes, “Fine. I don’t know what to wear though.”
“I know, honey, that’s why I left a suit for you in the living room.”
Caleb frowned and rocked back on his kitchen chair. His apartment was still very poky, as poky as a bestselling author who gave ninety percent of what he earned to charity could afford in his city, so he didn’t have to go far to see the edge of the suit bag draped over the sofa.
“It better not be itchy,” he mumbled, folding his arms sulkily.
“How long have I known you?” Veth snorted, nudging him lightly, “Percy said he’s sending a car at seven. You’re getting a ride with Beau so you don’t have to walk in on your own, just hide behind her all night if you like. But if you need me, I’ll be at the bar.”
Looking at him, pinching the bridge of his nose and cheeks puffed up in an exasperated sigh, you’d think Caleb was regretting the day he’d said yes to Veth’s suggestion to publish his stories, as long ago as it had been now. But she knew her friend. More than that, she knew who he’d been before. Veth could remember the days just after they’d gotten out of rehab, the days where he wouldn’t be able to get out of bed, where he’d be scared to go out on the street in case he saw someone he knew, afraid to close his eyes for the same reason. The days when everything he’d been through was a rock in his stomach, keeping him from eating, drinking, sleeping, doing anything but sitting on his bed and picking at the bandages covering the burns on his arms.
Writing it all down, versions of it that had him carefully clipped away and the edges neatened, was the only thing that shifted it. Sending it all out into the world, taking what he’d never been able to tell anyone and telling everyone without them knowing, that had shrunk it down enough that he could start to heal.
And now Caleb was here, washed and dressed in his own apartment, eating and drinking without prompting, making plans for how he could now reach out and help other people the only way he knew how. His own quiet, gentle way.
Veth couldn’t put into words how proud she was of him. Or how hard she would fight to help him do what he needed to do next, now that old coping mechanism was failing.
She reached up and put her hand on his shoulder, squeezing tight, “Caleb?”
His blue eyes slid over to her, the tension in his face relaxing a little. There were too many lines at the edges of those eyes, they seemed older than the man who owned them.
“I’ll be at the bar if you need me,” Veth said again, gently, “We’ll all be there if you need us.”
A small smile flickered over his face as he nodded, “I know.”
“Seven,” Veth reminded him again, with a squeeze, before finally turning to the door. There were many reasons Caleb was her favourite client- not that agents were supposed to have those- but a big one was knowing he would never be late for anything.
Even something he absolutely didn’t want to do.
“I really don’t want to do this.”
Beau gave him a raised eyebrow over the glow of her phone screen. It threw her harsh, dramatic eye make up into sharp relief and made her look of exasperation sting even more.
“And water’s wet,” she muttered, throwing one leg over the other. The back of the car was spacious but the size of her heels still risked catching Caleb on the shin, “Why do you think they send me in with you for these things? It’s so I can tackle you if you try to run away.”
Caleb grunted, leaning against the cool window of the car to try and take some of the heat out of his face. Beau had dragged him into a few events by the collar, that was true. But she’d also pulled the fire alarm to get him out of one or two, when he’d been really struggling. What else was your editor for?
“Have you met them? The illustrator?” he eventually asked, eyes following the lights streaking past on the other side of the glass, the city blurring by.
“Seen his work,” Beau shrugged, tapping away on her phone, either eviscerating someone’s manuscript or promising to pick up food on the way home for her girlfriends, “It’s good. Kind of psychedelic. Lots of watercolours.”
“Oh. Is it colourful?”
“Oh yeah,” Beau nodded, pausing to take a long drink from the complimentary champagne glass. Or rather, Caleb’s complimentary champagne glass, hers had been drained before he got in the car with her.
“Hm. I am not very colourful,” Caleb told the washed out shadows of the skyscrapers going past.
He heard Beau snort, “And the sun is hot. But this guy’s been suggested by the rich dude who owns the publishing company, Caleb, so you have to at least say a few words to this one before you give him the same boot you gave all the others. Sorry.”
Caleb pulled a face at the faint ghost of his reflection. He was aware he was being a bit unreasonable on this point, part of the reason why he’d gone so quiet after writing new books like clockwork for most of his career was because he was turning away artists again and again. Established industry veterans, complete unknowns with fresh illustration degrees, even famous names that would undoubtedly boost sales, Caleb had knocked them all back for admittedly flimsy reasons. He knew he was surprising his friends, maybe even pushing them towards frustration, but he couldn’t reconcile any of these beautiful sketches and paintings with the book he had in his mind. None of them fit his story and he often couldn’t even say why they didn’t.
Back when he had been writing about his pain, his fear and panic and isolation, it hadn’t mattered what the book came out looking like. The covers had those old fashioned painted images, real classic horror novel feel to them and that had been okay. Because those books had just been purges, getting the poison out of his mind and onto a page so Caleb could close it and sent it off and feel more space cleared in the dark attic that was his brain. Even if they’d borne no resemblance to his past- and he was very careful to keep them that way- the emotions were his and he was glad to be rid of them no matter what the painted blood and bone on the cover looked like.
This was different. This was so different and so important that Caleb still didn’t have much faith in his ability to actually do it.
But if he was going to do it, he had to do it right.
“I’ll talk to him,” he mumbled sulkily, “We’ll just...we’ll see.”
“Well we’re going to see pretty soon,” Beau pointed out her window, “De Rolo building, ten o’clock.”
Of all the towering, sleek skyscrapers in this part of the city, the de Rolo building put the others to shame. Percy might shrug and say it mostly looked after itself, and always had done since he became the de Rolo in charge of it, but even static it was a mighty thing. Caleb never had reason to visit the engineering department, the R&D floors, the software development department, the many floors Percy had given over to focus on the company’s charitable efforts. The publishing house took up a relatively small part of it all, more Percy’s passion project than anything that kept the family fortune turning over, but they had a good few noted authors on the roll call now.
It suited Caleb, writing for Percy. Percy had known him for a long time, after all. He understood his eccentricities, his strange schedules, his discomfort with too many public appearances.
And above all, Percy knew just enough to know what questions not to ask.
All events like this were held in the expansive balcony garden, magic working in harmony with engineering to keep out any of the city’s nightly chill and noise and maintain an overflowing jungle on one of the vast glass balconies. Beau and Caleb didn’t need directing up to it, not that anyone would, it was a hard thing to miss, the explosion of green up just below the roof. But they’d been here before, both of them familiar with the soft murmur of conversation, the clink of glasses, the instant burst of fragrance from the flowers as soon as they stepped out of the elevator. There were beautifully dressed people of all different races moving through the foliage, disappearing and reappearing like tigers in silk and gemstones. Caleb recognised most of them, they were people who worked in the publishing house, everyone from the interns to the agents. Percy didn’t like to leave anyone out of celebrations like these. Some of the better dressed faces were new however, probably the investors and donors or the rich socialites who just spawned at events like this.
It was familiar, which meant Caleb was very familiar with the sinking feeling of dread as the glass doors slid open.
“Whose party is this again?” he hissed to Beau as she threw an arm around his shoulders and walked him forward.
“You remember the manuscript Percy got sent a few months ago? The box that was all mouldy and mossy and a goddamn moth flew out when he opened it?” Beau hummed, her heavy bracelets jangling next to his ear.
“Oh,” Caleb nodded, “The comprehensive field guide to forest flora?”
It certainly had been a strange delivery, a handwritten sheaf of pages in a heavy scrawl with no name or return address, but with detail and knowledge contained inside that any naturalist would have given their back teeth to know. Not the kind of thing de Rolo Publishing usually dealt with but there were entries in it that marked completely new discoveries, not using it would have been a waste.
That and Percy’s best friend was a druid who’d been practically salivating over the book since it had arrived.
“That’s the one,” Beau hummed, “Well, after asking pretty much every plant nerd in every university in the city and beyond, Percy finally found out who wrote it. That guy.”
She pointed, indicating one of the strangest individuals Caleb had ever seen. An incredibly tall, incredibly thin, grey furred firbolg dressed like a stoner college student became visible around one corner, ears flapping happily under a wide brimmed hat as he appeared to talk to one of the monstera plants. And, sure enough, as they were watching, Keyleth approached him and began gushing animatedly, which seemed to amuse the fellow no end.
“Ah,” Caleb mumbled, “Yes, that looks like the kind of person who would write that book.”
“Apparently he didn’t know people got paid to write books,” Beau shrugged, “He seems like a hoot.”
Caleb gave a less non committal grunt than he normally would. He did actually get the sense that the firbolg would be less stressful to talk to than most people. Anyone who turned up to his own book’s launch party dressed like that had to be quite easygoing. Plus he definitely looked like he’d have something in his pockets to help Caleb get through this evening.
Beau was giving him a look, an ‘is this a fire alarm situation’ kind of appraising look, “You good, man?”
Caleb hunched into his suit jacket a little further, “I’m fine. Just tired. Bar?”
Beau gave a laugh, jangling as she led the way to the sleek, backlit bar with it’s array of brightly coloured bottles, “Took the words right out of my mouth. Things will look better with a beer in your hand, you’ll see.”
Beau’s assurance worked, for the first hour at least.
Those sixty minutes were first spent catching up with Percy, who he bumped into at the bar, chatting about his kids. Then getting a swift hug from Veth, who bought him his first beer and told him all about the ridiculous people she’d been in meetings with. Then pulled into a loud, laughter filled conversation between Fjord and Beau, mostly with her teasing him about the title for the latest installment of his young adult pirate novels and him answering by sarcastically bemoaning that if only he’d had an editor whose job it was to stop him doing such stipid things. The man of the hour himself, apparently called Caduceus, actually drifted in at the end, eyes bright with interest about this story of Fjord’s. Beau and Caleb left the two of them talking, sharing grins over Fjord’s suddenly pink cheeks and goofy smile.
And then the inevitable happened and Beau’s promise was broken.
There was always a comment, usually from the people who didn’t actually work in their office, from the people with more jewels and more expensive looking outfits. Caleb would just be hanging on the fringes of a group, on the way to or back from the bathroom, or simply wanting to fade into the background for a little while to take a breath.
The comments came in different forms. I simply don’t know how you write such scary things! It’s so impressive how you can carry those gory ideas around in your head. Your last book gave me nightmares for a week, you must never sleep! I’d ask you where you get your ideas but I’d be frightened of the answer! They’d be delivered with a smile, like they were supposed to be compliments, like Caleb’s next line was to nod and thank them politely.
And he supposed they weren’t to know. How could they? But there was no getting away from the fact that those comments, those fake smiles, all they meant was that he’d turned it all into a joke. That he’d never be anything more than cheap thrills and scares they could close the book on and leave on their nightstand. That, to them, it was all a game.A game that was now all he’d ever be known for.
So, in the end, Ikithon had won. He was never going to be rid of him, not really.
Caleb knew he was being rude, as he mumbled some excuse and pulled away from the crowd he’d suddenly become trapped in. He nearly stumbled as he lurched for any of his friends but the tide of the party had drifted him away from them when he hadn’t been looking. So he just moved, kept putting one foot in front of the other, that realisation echoing over and over in his head and, on its heels, a question.
What was he doing? What the hell was he doing, trying to pretend any different?
Caleb felt cold stone under palms that didn’t seem like his own, he had a vague idea that his eyes were taking in the cityscape far below him. He tried to count the lights in the skyscrapers closest to this one or fix his gaze on one of the tiny cars far below and follow it until the hammering in his chest stopped making him feel like he was going to be sick. Things like that usually worked but the panic was growing, it wasn’t backing down the way it was supposed to and it was threatening to pin him down and-
“Hey? ‘Scuse me? Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or anything but are you okay?”
The voice, unfamiliar and so much closer than he’d ever been expecting, was enough to jolt him out of his panic. Like he’d been dreaming about falling and suddenly slammed against his pillow, Caleb gave a soft gasp and jumped, only realising as he pulled away that a hand had been on his shoulder.
“Easy there!” the voice turned soothing, “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay.”
Caleb found himself reaching back for the hand, holding on tight, brain still frantically gathering itself. Strong, calloused fingers squeezed back and he felt the press of some heavy rings.
“Deep breaths now. There you go, in and out. That’s it.”
Caleb obeyed, more than happy for someone else to do the thinking, dragging air in and out of his lungs until he could think straight. The connections between himself and his body parts came in scattered bursts, different parts coming back on line at different times, but eventually he felt himself back in control and began to assess the damage.
Thought one, he was uncomfortably sweaty. Thought two, he might have dropped his beer over the edge of the balcony which was a concern. Thought three, wait no, they had magical force fields to catch anything dropped before it hit the ground.
Thought four, he was clinging to a complete stranger’s hand.
Caleb whirled around, snatching his hand back, grimacing, “Sorry. I don’t know what…I’m sorry.”
The stranger’s smile stayed in place. They were a lavender skinned tiefling, bright red eyes and dark violet hair and dramatically curving horns that shone with adornments. They were an inch or so taller than Caleb- a lot of people were- and they shone softly as they rocked lightly on their heels. Some of it was the jewellery, some of it was their clothes, not expensive but artfully chosen leather trousers and a billowing sheer blouse in a material that looked like spun silver. Under it, Caleb’s eyes immediately snagged on a tapestry of tattoos across their skin, instantly enraptured by their intricacy and colour.
Which of course, meant he was staring.
Either they didn’t mind or they were used to it, the tiefling just chuckled, “You don’t need to apologise, its okay. And if you don’t know what was happening there, you were having a panic attack.”
“I…no, it’s not…I know what was happening, I get them a lot,” Caleb’s eyes darted around, relieved to see that they’d moved behind a large lavender plant and no one seemed to have noticed his panic, “I, um…thank you. For helping.”
The tiefling shrugged lightly, taking a seat on the lip of the planter, throwing one leg over the other, “Of course. Looked like you were getting a little overwhelmed with all the people, huh?”
Caleb sat down beside them, glad of the excuse to let the shaking leave his limbs. He blinked as they passed him his mostly drunk bottle of beer, they must have caught it for him just in time.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, taking their offer to tap it against their own glass of clear alcohol, “Prost.”
“Cheers,” they smiled, “I don’t blame you, y’know. I’m completely out of my depth here too.”
Caleb finished his beer and regarded them curiously, “Hm? You’ve not been to a book launch before? Have you just started working here?”
Maybe it was presumptuous but, looking closer, the tiefling’s outfit was definitely either second hand or handmade or some combination of both, their jewellery looking like costume jewellery or thrifted pieces. That didn’t speak to a new donor or a socialite just looking for something to do with their Saturday evening. Maybe this was a new intern or researcher, Percy tended to hire students from the local colleges to give them a chance to earn some money while they got their degrees, deliberately making the hours flexible and hurriedly making up scholarships on the spot for anyone who was really struggling.
“Oh, well,” they pondered that, drawing a finger around the rim of their glass, “In a way, I guess? Though I’m not sure if it’s going to work out, I think I’m just meeting with someone to see if I’m a good fit…”
“Oh?” Caleb gazed out over the city, finding a few stars managing to bravely shine through the smog clouds, “You’re freelance?”
“Yep,” their gaze seemed to be following the same route as Caleb’s, a lazy smile in their voice, “Guess we’ll see.”
“Sorry, I’m being rude. I probably should have asked your name by now, seeing as you kind of came to my rescue and all.”
The tiefling shifted, turning towards him and holding out a hand, “Mollymauk Tealeaf. Nice to meet you.”
Caleb rolled that name around his mouth, enjoying the way it sounded and certainly enjoying having a more normal reason to clasp their hand again, hoping it might erase the memory of the first time, “Mollymauk. That’s nice.”
Mollymauk Tealeaf grinned, showing a set of pointed teeth, “You’re cute. And you are?”
The two of them turned to this answer that hadn’t come out of Caleb’s mouth. Percy walked up to them, his perpetually tired smile on his face. It was the only kind he’d been able to make since the twins had been born two months ago. There was actually a smudge of formula powder on his otherwise impeccable suit sleeve that people were politely not mentioning.
“I was just coming over to make sure you two had found each other,” he gestured to them, “But it seems like you got started all on your own.”
Caleb felt a little better about the expression of puzzlement on his own face because Mollymauk wore an identical one, “Huh?”
Percy chuckled, straightening his glasses, “Haven’t gotten to that part yet then? Caleb, Mollymauk is an artist. He’s the one I wanted you to meet.”
There was an almost audible click as everything fell into place. He felt his cheeks heat up, feeling quite profoundly stupid. Wonderful. So the person who had read his manuscript, one of the most deeply personal things he’d ever written, had found him having a panic attack at a party and had to sit him down in a lavender plant. He doubted there had ever been a worse start to a working relationship.
Caleb wasn’t looking forward to breaking Percy’s heart and sending him back to trawling through portfolios and Instagrams.
But when he glanced back, Mollymauk was smiling still, if a little coyly now.
“Oof. Sorry about that,” he held up his hands, gracefully abashed, “Honestly, I’m not a big reader so I didn’t recognise you straight away, Mr Widogast.”
That raised Caleb’s eyebrows, “You haven’t read any of my books?”
Molly shook his head, with a slightly thinner laugh, “No, sorry. Guess that doesn’t make me look very good does it? Guess I should just pack my bags, huh?”
But Caleb’s eyes had widened and he looked almost intensely alert, every trace of the panic chased away. Though neither of them were looking, a knowing smile flickered across Percy’s face and he took himself off to endure a little more mingling.
He hadn’t read any of his books. To this colourful, kind tiefling he wasn’t Caleb Widogast, famous and eccentric horror writer. He was just Caleb, who he’d already seen at his worst and was still here, still smiling.
“You can call me Caleb,” he gave a small smile back, “Can we meet tomorrow?”
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Twelve days of Smutcember 2021.
Day 5 - Boss Level.
Tomura Shigaraki x ftm!Reader
This story is a smut story for Smutcember, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Smutcember and if you want to see a character please let me know...
Also I will try to post fluff one shots/headcanons I have lined up…
finally I think it’s important to note, I might be a person who celebrates Christmas, however I know not everyone does so I won’t/try not to mention or reference any particular festive holiday in these one shots, out of respect for everyone.
You must be 18 years or older to read this...
🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞
A/N: this one shot is set in a quirkless AU and Shigaraki isn’t a villain but instantly a online gamer/streamer… also m!reader is trans🏳️⚧️, on testosterone, post-top surgery and pre-bottom surgery.
Summary: Shigaraki tried to tease you, however it’s backfires and gets you all excited…
Word count: 1.2k
CW: Quirkless AU, NSFW and adult content, switch!Shigaraki, strap on, anal play, spitting, lingerie, lipstick, daddy kink and scratched.
“Hey y/n, is that you?” Shigaraki called as he heard the front door open and close, “yeah it’s me, you need something?” You poke your head around the door frame, Shigaraki looks at you and smiles, “yeah, could you help me with something?” He questioned as he tapped away at his computer. “Sure I can help, what’s up?” You walk over and lean down, “sit here and make me feel good babe” Shigaraki hummed and pushed out his chair slightly to reveal his large erection, you slipped out your pants and boxers before straddling his legs. You spat into your hand and pumped Shigaraki member a few time before leaning up and then lowering down on it, you pressed your face into his shoulder to muffle your moan, “your always so willing baby boy” Shigaraki whispered in your ear and you panicked. “You’re still streaming?!” You whisper yelled, “don’t worry, they can’t see or hear us… I just needed to feel your insides” Shigaraki chuckled and you frowned, “oh honey, don’t frown you’ll spoil your handsome face” he kissed your cheek and continued playing his game. You began grinding your hips, causing your plump walls to flutter around him, “you’re being such a good sport, as a reward for being so obedient, I’ll let you top later my little prince” he moaned and you smirked at the thought, “I’m gonna use that green one, Tomura” you chuckled and felt Shigaraki stiffen slightly, “oh you scared?” You hummed as you kissed and nip his neck. “Shut up, I’m not scared…” Shigaraki hissed as he tapped that computer keys roughly, “I should have never bought that stupid green dildo” he muttered lowly and you laughed out, “oh please, you loved using it on me but now, it’s a ‘stupid green dildo’” you looked at Shigaraki’s bright red face, “I know you love see me in my strap, you love being dicked down, even move then I do” you cupped his face and kissed him. “Tomura end the livestream and go get prepared for me” you slowly pulled Shigaraki’s member out of you before you got off his lap, “okay y/n” he hummed before saying his goodbyes to the viewer and apologising for leaving early, after finally shutting down the computer Shigaraki went to the bathroom and began to prep for you. You on the other hand, went to the closet to change out of your clothes and find the strap, once you found everything to made sure to rub it down with alcohol wraps and dried off any alcohol residue. You looked back at the closet and noticed the lacy pink lingerie you got for Tomura as a gift, however he hadn’t been able to wear it just yet, “Tomura, put this on… I wanna see you in it” you passed him the lacy garments and watched his face redden more then it ever has, “but… but… I… are you sure?” He mumbled shyly and you nodded with a smile “you’ll look so pretty, I’ll have no choice but to hold you close all night long” you hummed and kissed his cheek.
Tomura came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, “all ready for me now?” You asked and he nodded before sitting on the bed, “lie down for me baby” you hummed as you slipped on the strap, you grabbed the towel and opened it to reveal probably the most heavenly site you’d ever seen. The pink lace hugged Shigaraki’s thin pale body nicely, the bra straps sipped off his shoulders as his nipples showed through the sheer fabric and the panties sat low on Shigaraki’s bony hips, allowing the tip of his penis to poke out the top of the panties. “My little sweetheart, you’re the prettiest boy I’ve ever seen… wait a minute, what’s that?” You asked as you leaned in and rubbed a finger over Shigaraki’s lips, looking at the pink smug on your finger you smiled, “aww did you put some lipstick on for me? You’re that sweetest” you cupped his face and kissed him, as he hummed and wiggled his hips, “hands and knees baby” you pulled back and he turned over.
You rubbed your hands over Shigaraki’s ass cheeks before pulled his panties aside and spreading his cheeks, “so pretty… you look so ready for me” you hummed and leaned down, you kissed you back of Shigaraki’s thigh and then up to his puckered hole. “Stop teasing me, you know I’m already… just put it in” Shigaraki hissed and reached a hand back, you kitten licked his awaiting hole a few times and then spat on it before pushing him over onto his back, “tsk* tsk* tsk*, someone’s being far too impatient” you clicked your tongue and cupped his face, “you can barely handle the six inches… and this one is an inch thicker and four inches longer” you spoke softly as you leaned back and held the comically large dildo in your hand “just shut up and put it in” he grumbled and you chuckled. “Oh you silly little boy, this cock is like the boss level… but if you think you can take it be my guest” you hummed as you squirt some lube on the silicon toy before pushing it in. Shigaraki cried out loudly and you cooed out praises while cupping his face, “oh even though you acted like such a brat I feel so bad… just take deep breath baby and relax” you hummed and kissed him, as he shook slightly and scratched at your back, you pushed the last of the dildo in him and groaned at the way tears ran down his face as he cried, “you really are so pretty, cried more for me” you let out a deep moan the reverberated in your chest, as you began thrusting slowly and grabbed his wrists.
“Daddy, touch my front!” Shigaraki sobbed as you move your hips quickly, “where’s your manners? My beautiful boy” you chuckled and rolled your hips, “please daddy, touch my front” Shigaraki gasped and kissed his cheek, “okay” you whispered in his ear. You leaned back and let go of Shigaraki’s wrists and wrapped a hand around his twitching cock, before pumping it quickly, Shigaraki moaned and gasped as his back arched and he wrapped his hands around you and scratched long strips down your back.
You and Shigaraki laid wrapped in a warm blanket, “sorry about your butt, I guess I got a little too excited” you hummed as you rested your head on his chest, “it’s not really sore anymore, just wired… sorry about your back, I’ll have to cut my nails later” he brushed his finger through your hair and you chuckled, “it’s alright” you smiled. “You know I’ll have you get paid back for you being so rough” Shigaraki grinned as he rolled you onto your back, he reached over to the bedside table and grabbed condom before sipping on, Shigaraki pushed into you and bottomed out with a groan, “if your getting your pay back then I’m getting mine” you moaned but before you could grab onto his back he grabbed your hands.
“Sorry but I’m feeling a little selfish” Shigaraki smirked and kissed your cheek.
Smut book masterlist
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Day 4 lay off the drinks /// Day 6 Eyes on you.
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Prompt: “Thirty-six months, just the two of us, only one mistake to mess it up.” —Strangers, FLETCHER, written for @mercy-burning 1 year writing challenge.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x FemReader
Category: Fluff to Angst
Summary: You and Spencer click right away when you join the BAU and a relationship soon follows. But nothing lasts forever…
Content Warning: Emotional cheating, basic episode stuff, unhappy ending.
Word Count: 5991
A/N: I just used the episode air dates for this, so if something doesn’t make sense timeline wise, that’s why. Probably typos, its late and I wanted to post!
36 months ago, was your first day at the BAU.
For years, you had put all your effort into making this happen. Now you were actually here.
Hotch, as he insisted you call him, had you sign the last of the transfer papers, before offering to set you up at your desk. But when you left his office, it wasn’t hard to find. Hotch had given you a slightly apologetic look, before gaining the rest of the teams attention. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way several highly trained FBI agents jumped.
A colourful lady quickly ran to join you at the bottom of the steps to the bullpen. “Hi! I’m Penelope!” She held out her hand to you. “We’re all very excited to meet you.” She beamed.
You shook her hand, and smiled back.
“I don’t think anyone’s as excited as Garcia, but we are glad to have you.” The man you recognised as David Rossi walked up to you next. You would be working with the David Rossi. You played it cool though.
“I’m glad to be here too.” You told them genuinely.
“Let me show you to your desk!” Penelope exclaimed, and reached out for your hand again, tugging you across the room.
Your desk had a small banner with “WELCOME!!!” written in multiple colours across the width of it.
“This here is the tantalisingly delicious Derek Morgan.” She told you, reaching out to stroke the man’s bicep.
From the way he chucked and the way the others rolled their eye, you assumed this interaction was normal.
“I’d shake your hand, but,” He tilted the container in his hands, which was filled with cupcakes, decorated to say “WELCOME AGENT.”
“I’m Jennifer. But everyone called me JJ.” JJ reached her hand out, smiling.
“Emily.” The woman behind her reached over too.
Your eyes found the final team member, stood off to the side a little, awkwardly holding a small bunch of balloons. You got the feeling he didn’t really want to be there.
So you spoke first. “And by process of elimination, you must be Doctor Reid.” You smiled. To be honest, you already knew who they all were. The team clearly didn’t realise how famous they were amongst their fellow FBI agents.
Giving you an awkward smile, he nodded. “Um, yes, and these are yours.” He handed over the balloons, which you gladly took. “And Spencer’s fine.” He shifted a little, quickly glancing around the rest of the group, clearly not wanting the attention.
You diverted it for him. “So do we get to eat the cakes now, or…?”
The rest of the morning went really well. Emily, Derek and Spencer were all in the bullpen with you, the others had their own offices, but Penelope and JJ made frequent visits. Spencer had stayed pretty quiet though, except the occasional impressive fact, and you hoped he was just a quiet guy, and you hadn’t already upset him somehow.
When lunch rolled around, Penelope had walked in, saying she was going out for food and asked if anyone wanted to join her. You agreed, telling her she could tell you all the best places nearby. In which she scrapped her question, and demanded everyone join her in taking the new girl out for lunch on her first day. Emily and Derek needed no convincing, and she got Spencer to agree too.
“I’ll go grab JJ.” Emily said, and Penelope followed her out the door.
You turned and grabbed your coat, as Spencer was wrapping a scarf around his neck.
Smiling, you let out a little gasp of excitement. “You like Doctor Who?” You gestured to the famous Tom Baker scarf.
His eyes snapped up to yours, and he paused for a second, as if he was checking it was actually you who asked.
But then he smiled and nodded. “Yeah, yeah. You too?” His voice more confident than you’d heard all morning.
“Yes!” You nodded enthusiastically. “I had a roommate years back who introduced me.”
And that was it, it was like talking to a completely different person. He started giving all sorts of facts about the actors, and filming and pointing out a few inconsistencies in the show. The rest of the team, except Penelope who was also a fan, rolled their eyes and groaned at him, but you kept him going.
By the end of the day, yourself, Spencer and Penelope had agreed to have a Doctor Who marathon sometime soon.
35 months ago, Spencer brought you coffee for the first time.
It had been a cold and drizzly morning, and you woke up late. You made yourself presentable enough to suggest you hadn’t just woken up, brushed your teeth, and rushed to work. Thankfully, you made it in time and no one said anything. But Spencer asked if you were okay when you rushed in. You had laughed it off, and told him you didn’t even have time to stop at the café like normal.
You’d just finished sorting out everything you’d need to start work, when a mug was placed in front of you.
“It’s probably not as good as your normal order, but…” Spencer trailed off, looking a little sheepish.
“You made me coffee?”
He fidgeted a little. “Well I, umm…”
“Thank you, Spencer.” You told him sincerely, and you took a sip. “It’s good.” You smiled at the way he stood a little straighter.
He nodded and returned to his own desk.
30 months ago, you had a weekend off.
Garcia planned a girls night at her place. Everyone was instructed to wear something comfortable, and bring a bottle of wine. She enveloped you into a hug once you arrived, and lead you to the living room where JJ and Emily already were. Penelope made sure everyone had a full glass, and began a speech about the importance of friendship.
“How many has she already had?” You whispered, leaning over to JJ.
She just laughed and shrugged.
Penelope ended her small speech, requesting you all to raise your glass. The four of you clicked your glasses together, and took a big swig each.
You talked and gossiped for hours, bringing yourself to tears laughing. Inevitably, the topic of dating came up, Emily groaning when the questions focused on her.
“Just saying Em.” JJ told her, shrugging her shoulder jokingly.
“No. Don’t care. I’m telling you, you found the one guy okay with our schedule.” She took a big gulp of wine.
“I dunno,” Garcia said with a suspicious tone to her voice. “If he perhaps shared the schedule, I think it could work out.” She said looking directly at you with a smug on her face.
Emily and JJ turned to look at you too, but you kept your gaze on Penelope. “What?”
“Don’t what me, you know who I’m talking about.”
“I really don’t.”
“Oh please,” She turned to face the other two, who were sat looking confused. “You know how sometimes we get Spencer over here to watch Doctor Who?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Spencer!?” JJ and Emily yelled, sitting up straighter with amused smiles.
Your stomach flipped. Okay, so in the past few months, you had found yourself increasingly comfortable around the man. And maybe you had found yourself wondering what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair. Or wishing the jet ride home was a little longer so you could stay wrapped up in the blanket he let you borrow…
“Nothing’s happening with me and Spencer!” You defended yourself.
Penelope crossed her arms leaning forward on the table. “You should see them all cuddled up on the couch!” Your cheeks started to heat up. “I am honestly starting to feel like a third wheel. In my own home!”
Emily chuckled. “Aw, could totally see it.”
“Not helping Emily!”
JJ giggled, her eyes narrowing teasingly at you. “You know he told me the other day you agreed to go see that Korean movie with him.”
“He’s my friend!”
“Do you even speak any Korean?” They all laughed
“Can we go back to Emily’s love life please!?”
27 months ago, JJ left.
Garcia met you all at the elevator, but there was no warm welcome. She just let Hotch know that Strauss had left him some documents on his desk. He nodded and walked away. JJ followed behind him, and occupying herself in the briefing room. No one knew what to do or say, but there was a silent agreement that you were all going to hang around until you found out for sure what was happening. Hotch wasn’t in his office for very long, and headed towards JJ with a few sheets of paper in his hands.
“We did good today.” Rossi interrupted the quiet. “Let’s acknowledge that.”
You knew he was just trying to distract everyone from their current thoughts, but you welcomed it, and huffed a small laugh.
“How often can we solve a case in 12 hours, and find our missing person alive after three days?” You said, looking to the man with a slight smile.
The others grinned back at you, and nodded. You managed to make a somewhat happier conversation for a few moments, before Hotch walked back to his office, and you looked back just as JJ sat down. And with that, silence fell over the group again. Spencer’s leg started to bounce involuntarily, and he couldn’t seem to keep his hands still. You reached out, and carefully placed a hand on the back of his shoulder. He took a deep breath, and relaxed a little bit. When he turned and gave you a sad smile, you pulled away again.
You weren’t sure how long you all sat there, but Emily’s quiet “no” brought you back around, and you turned to see a teary-eyed JJ. Everyone said their piece, saying how it wasn’t fair, or that she was too good at her job not to be wanted by everyone else.
“They can’t just take you away.” Spencer said quietly.
JJ patted his arm, but what could she say.
You saw his lip tremble.
She moved round the group, giving everyone a hug. No one could bring themselves to say anything else. JJ sighed, and smiled as best she could, telling you she should go see Penelope before she left. Nodding you all let her go, and moved to grab your stuff. Rossi made a move for Hotch’s office, and Morgan and Emily headed back to the elevator. But Spencer remained stood by his desk, looking down. You throw a look over your shoulder to the other to who had stopped by the door, and they nodded at you before turning around.
You moved as close to him as you thought he’d be comfortable with. “Wanna ride home?”
He took a deep breath. “No.” He said quietly, not looking up. “No, it’s okay.”
You weren’t really sure what you could say, so you just stood with him for a moment in silence. Then he sniffed, and brought his hands up to cover his eyes.
“Spence, come here.” You spoke gently, opening your arms, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you.
“It’s gonna be okay.” You held him tight as he pressed his face into your neck. “I bet you anything Hotch and Rossi are in there trying to think of something.”
He remained quiet, and the two of you stood there for a few minutes before he pulled back.
“Let me take you home.”
“No, really it-”
“It’d make me feel better knowing you weren’t waiting outside in the cold.” You interrupted. It wasn’t too cold really, but it was starting to drop a little bit.
He looked at you for a moment, before nodding. You smiled back at him, a part of you wanting to reach out and take his hand, but you restrained yourself.
“Come on then.”
26 months ago, you decided Halloween was your favourite holiday.
Spencer was doing better since JJ had left, but you knew he was still down. So, the week before Halloween, you thought you could try cheering him up by asking him to come watch some scary movies at your place. The mere mention of the holiday seemed to perk him up, and he started telling you about the history of Halloween.
He showed up to your place bang on time, with a bag of candy in one arm and a big grin on his face. You told him to make himself at home, and let him pick out the first movie. You had grabbed some bowls for the candy, a couple of sodas, and hit the light switch. You’d gotten blankets folded over the arm of the sofa, and handed him one, and you both wrapped up.
Part way through the second film, there was a particularly gory scene, and you pulled your blanket up to cover your eyes.
“Gross.” You muttered.
Spencer just chuckled.
“What?” You questioned him, pulling the blanket away, but still blocking your view of the screen.
He raised an eyebrow. “How are you this squeamish with what we do for a job?”
The man just shook his head. You stuck your tongue out at him, and dropped the blanket completely. But, as you did, a loud scream made you jump again.
“Oh!” You turned away, covering you face with your hands, and leaned into Spencer.
He was laughing louder now.
“Why did I pick this movie?” You mumbled, face still buried.
“Here,” Spencer said, and you felt him lift your blanket up and over your head. “Now your safe.”
You pulled it down a little to reveal your face, but didn’t pull away from him. “I don’t like the sarcastic tone I’m picking up Doctor.”
He smirked at you. “Wanna turn it off?”
“No, then the movie wins.” He just scoffed at you. “I’ll just stay safe in my blanket, ready to use you as a human shield if necessary.” You wriggled in your spot, keeping grip of the blanket, with your head resting on Spencer’s arm.
Spencer didn’t reply, and the two of you managed to get through the rest of the movie. When the credits began, you shot up straight and looked at Spencer with a triumphant smile.
“You’re so brave.” He smiled back.
Your eyes narrowed. “Still not appreciating the sarcasm.” But you returned the smile.
He checked his watch, sighing a little as he did. “I, er, I should get going.”
Trying not to look too disappointed, you nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”
The two of you stood, and you slowly walked to the door, holding it open for him.
“I, err…” He took a breath. “I had a nice time tonight.”
You smiled. “Yeah, me too.” You reached out for a hug.
“Text me when you’re home, okay?” His arms pulled you in.
As you started to pull back, his hands held on to the tops of your arms, and he looked you in the eyes. You couldn’t read his expression. But you noticed him very quickly glance down at your lips, and your breath hitched.
“I, erm… I-I mean if, erm…” He stuttered, and closed his eyes in frustration.
“Spencer.” You whispered. And when he looked back at you, you leaned forward, and pressed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth.
He looked at you, like it took him a second to realise what just happened. But then he grinned, and moved his hands to cup your face and pressed his lips to yours.
It was soft, and gentle. And you both giggled a little when you pulled back.
“So… Would you like to, umm, maybe go to dinner? With me? Tomorrow?” He asked.
“Okay.” He blushed. “I’ll text you tomorrow?”
Biting your lip, you nodded. “Can’t wait.”
Spencer grinned back at you, and bid you a goodnight.
24 months ago, you were official.
Which brought up the question of how to tell the rest of the team. So far you’d kept it quiet, though you were sure they’d noticed the odd changes in the pair of you. But they were family, and you both wanted them to know. Despite knowing the teasing you’d get from Morgan.
So one morning, Spencer had found the documents you both needed to fill out. You completed them quickly, before Emily or Morgan had a chance to see what you were doing, and you both headed up. You smirked at Spencer when you heard Morgan asking what was going on.
“Got a second, Hotch?” You asked as you knocked on the door.
You’re sure you saw the tiniest smirk for the briefest second when he looked up and saw the two of you at the door. “Sure, come in.”
You handed the forms over. He glanced at them for a moment, before taking them and smiling up at you.
“How long?” He smiled.
“Few months.” You shrugged.
He hummed. “I think that means Garcia’s won the bet.”
Spencer frowned, but you let out a laugh. “Well then, I guess we should go let her know.”
21 months ago, Emily died.
You’d all waited at the hospital for hours in silence. Then JJ stepped into the room and told you she was gone.
The days that followed were a blur. Everyone was given time off, so you and Spencer had stayed at his place. Neither if you really said much, but you clung to each other. Made sure the other had something to eat and drink. You were still wrapped up together in bed in the late morning, when your phones buzzed at the same time. Yours was closer, and you rolled over to grab it off the nightstand, Spencer immediately pulling you back.
“It’s Hotch.” You told him. “They’ve sorted the funeral arrangements.” You read the message to him, and he just nodded at you and moved to place his forehead to yours.
“Meant to be sunny rest of the week. So that’ll be nice…” He didn’t respond.
“Spencer…” You whispered, and you pushed him back a little to look at you. “Talk to me…”
He reached his hand up to stroke your cheek. “It’s just…” His voice was hoarse. “We’re meant to keep each other safe… If we can’t then…”
You placed a hand on top of his. You understood where he was coming from. Losing Emily really opened your eyes to the reality of the job. Sure, you had always been aware of the dangers, but for as long as you’d been on the team, everyone had managed to get home in one piece… It only made you think more what would happen if Spencer got hurt.
And like he was reading your mind, Spencer whispered, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you...”
19 month ago, you moved in with Spencer.
Your own lease was coming to an end, and you spent more time at Spencer’s then you did at your own apartment anyway. So when Spencer suggested it, you were more than excited.
“Really?” Your heart fluttered. “You really want that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You basically live here anyway.” He laughed.
You jumped to him and wrapped your arms around him. “Oh my god, this is so exciting” I love you so much!”
Hadn’t said that before…
You slowly moved you’re eyes to look at Spencer.
“You…Y-” He stuttered.
Your stomach was doing somersaults. “I just, umm-”
“I love you too.”
He pulled you close to him and you could feel him smiling as he kissed you.
“This mean you’re gonna come help me pack?”
He just chuckled and kissed you again.
15 months ago, Emily Prentiss walked through the door.
But the disbelief and gratitude she was back, was quickly replaced with an anger towards Hotch and JJ. And you didn’t even have chance to process that, because you had to get right back to work if you were going to find Declan. Then when that was over, you got back to the office to find yourself suspended.
Once you were home, you dropped your bag in the hallway and released a tension you didn’t realise you were holding. Spencer shut the door and walked up behind you, turned you around and pulled you in. Letting out a long sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder and returned the hug.
“You okay?” He muttered.
“Are you?” It came off a bit snappier than you intended. You sighed again and pulled back. “Sorry.”
He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. “S’okay. I get it.”
You covered his hand to hold them where they were. “I just want today to be over...”
“Let go to bed then.”
And so you did.
The days that followed, JJ left several messages and voicemails, mostly to Spencer. He ignored them all. Which you understood. You were angry too. Though you were directing it more to Hotch then JJ, but it seemed hypocritical to try and convince him to talk to her. He avoided her at the hearing as much as he possibly could. You thought maybe it’d get better once you returned to work, be he just continued to avoid her, brushing her off when she tried to talk to him. You knew you had to talk to him when you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at her when she made a point during the case briefing.
And you wished you’d done it before you got on the jet.
Rossi had told you about how they were talking to each other when the three of them returned from the crime scene. But just as you went to get him, Hotch called everyone over to give the profile. And he walked off as soon as it was delivered. You’d turned to follow him, but JJ had grabbed you.
“Give me a sec?” She pleaded.
Spencer’s posture was immediately defensive, and they were quickly arguing. You gave JJ an apologetic look as he stormed out, and followed behind him.
“Hey, hold up.”
He stopped, sighed and turned around. “What?”
“Let’s go get some air.” You took his hand and took him through the door, and sat down on a bench outside of the station.
“I’m not apologising to her.” He told you after a moment of quiet, not meeting your eyes.
“I’m not asking you to.” He didn’t say anything. “I understand why you’re angry, we all do. I don’t think they should have done what they did, I can think of a number of better ways to go about it all. But… it’s done.” He looked up to you. “They were doing what they thought was best for Emily, even if it was a stupid thing.” You nudged him gently and managed to get a tiny smile. “And she was under orders…”
He sighed. “I just… I trusted her.”
You nodded, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I know, baby. But we’ve still got to have a good working relationship at the very least. Rossi told me how you both were earlier.”
He looked down again.
You both sat for a little longer, before he sighed and stood up, giving you a gentle tug as he did.
“I, erm, I’m gonna go over the profile again.”
You nodded. “Want some help?” The two of you making your way back inside.
He shook his head. “I think I should take a look alone.”
You smiled at him. Processing what he was feeling wasn’t easy for Spencer, and you never wanted him to feel crowded or rushed when he needed space to do so. “Okay, you know where I’ll be.”
He nodded, and gave you a quick kiss as you went to join the rest of the team.
10 months ago, Spencer started getting headaches.
You always did your best to help him when he got them. He would get more and more anxious the longer they lasted. Mainly cause he’d put off going to a doctor, and sit in his own head about what the diagnosis would be. It was the same conversation you had every time the headaches lasted more than a few days.
“It’d give you some peace of mind, at the very least.” You told him.
He fidgeted. “Last time they didn’t even find anything physically wrong…”
You took his face in your hands. “I understand why you get stressed out about it. But stress also causes headaches.” You told him pointedly.
He pouted a little bit.
“Not to mention all the coffee you drink, and I know for a fact you don’t finish your meals if there’s work to do and I’m not there to nag you to eat your vegetables.” You raised an eyebrow at him.
There was a flash of a smile, before doubt took over again. “But what if it is…” He trailed off, not even wanting to say the word.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled his lips you yours. “Then we will deal with it, cause I love you no matter what.”
9 months ago, a letter got mixed up in your post.
You’d ran down in the morning to pick up your mail, and were flicking through envelopes, when you noticed one with someone else’s name on.
“Hey Spence?” You called when you walked through the door. “You know a Joseph Bell?”
He didn’t answer right away, and poked his head through the kitchen door after a moment. “W-what are you talking about?”
You held it up. “Someone must have got the apartment number wrong.” You shrugged.
“Yeah, maybe.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll leave it at the desk later.”
“Okay.” You chucked it onto the table by the door, and thought nothing more about it.
4 months ago, something started to feel off.
Just little things.
Spencer had always made coffee for the two of you, first thing in the morning, he’d head straight to the kitchen and put the pot on. Now he always seemed to run downstairs, saying he was checking the mail. Even if neither of you were expecting anything.
He’d be fidgety at times, more so then when you first got together. And he’d brush it off as nothing when you asked what was wrong.
When he told you a fact about something, his tone didn’t have the same level of excitement as it once did. He used to love telling you things, because you would show genuine interest in what he was saying. It sounded like it would be something pertaining to a case now.
He didn’t seem to hold you as tightly anymore.
There was a pit in the bottom of your stomach.
2 months ago, Spencer left a crime scene.
The both of you, with Blake and Morgan were at the latest crime scene. A woman this time, and so far all the victims had been men. Blake was on the phone to Hotch, while the rest of you threw some more theories around.
Then Spencer just walked away and took his phone out.
“Reid.” Morgan called after him, but he didn’t answer.
You didn’t bother. This was the third time now in the past few months he’d rushed off to make a call. Giving no explanation to who it was, or what it was about. When he hung up, he ran over to Blake and got in the car with her, without even looking back at you.
“You know what that’s about?” Morgan asked you.
You watched the car go, and pretended you didn’t hear him. “They could be victims of opportunity. They just happened to all be male up till now.” You didn’t really think that was true. But you didn’t want to talk about your what could be going on with Spencer right now.
Morgan sighed, but he didn’t push it.
Spencer hadn’t returned when you got back to the station. And he didn’t explain his absence even when he did get back.
Still, you solved the case soon after. Another bad guy behind bars.
“Got everything?” Spencer asked you were getting on to the jet.
“Want to read something?”
“I’m just gonna go to sleep.”
With that you walked ahead of him, and took a single seat opposite JJ, where she was wrapping a blanket around herself.
You’d text Penelope as you were getting ready to land, asking her if she was still at the office. She said yes, and asked if you were okay. You didn’t respond.
When the rest of the team headed to their desks, you beelined for Penelope’s office, and shut the door behind you. She was immediately all over you.
“What’s going on?” She dragged you over to sit you down. “You didn’t answer me, you always answer me. So I did the next best thing, and asked my beloved Derek Morgan and he said he thinks you and Spencer are fighting? Are you fighting?”
You stared at her a second more, making sure she was done. “We’re not fighting.”
She took her own seat, and looked at you with big eyes.
“We’re not… I dunno!” You threw your arms up. “We’re not anything...”
“What do you mean?” She scooted closer to you.
You sighed. “I love him Pen, so much, but… I don’t think… I’m not sure he does anymore.” You felt the tears well up.
“Whoa, hey now.” Her arms were around you quickly. “That’s not true. He was into you from day one, and he used to blush like crazy when we teased him about it. There’s no way all that’s just gone.”
“I don’t know.” You blinked back the tears, knowing you’d have to face Spencer and the rest of the team in a moment. “The past few months…” You shrugged. “Somethings been different.”
You told her all the things that seemed to have changed recently. And how he dodged the questions, and came up with excuses for darting away unexpectedly.
She took a deep breath, and squeezed your hand. “You just need to talk to him. Properly. Don’t let him brush it off. Plus, it Spencer. There’s no way its anything bad, I can tell what you’re thinking. And you know how he can get. He get so focused on one thing, that everything else becomes background noise. If you tell him how you’re feeling, he’ll snap right out of it.” She shoved your arm softly. “He’d never want to hurt you.”
You bit your lip, giving her small nod. Penelope reached over for another hug, and you bid her a goodnight, thanking her for the chat. Spencer and Morgan were stood talking by the elevator. Morgan stopped whatever he was saying when he saw you, patted Spencer on the shoulder and moved passed you to see Garcia.
Spencer shuffled a little.
“Ready to go home?” You asked him.
1 month ago, it wasn’t better. But it wasn’t worse.
You never really did have that talk with Spencer. You were too scared. But you had assumed that Morgan or Penelope must have said something to him. He changed again. Not back to normal, but to… better. He made a point of bringing you coffee all the time, standing close to you and holding your hand everywhere.
But that’s sort of why it was worse. He was aware, that you were aware something was going on. And so he was over compensating in a way. He still rushed down to get the mail, and would disappear with his phone. It was always Sundays you realised recently.
Yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to question him. Too scared at what you might find.
Because then you’d lose him forever.
And you weren’t sure how to deal with that.
1 week ago, you stayed back late.
You were getting behind on paperwork, and Hotch would be on your case about it of you didn’t hand it in soon. Spencer had stayed with you a while, but he was all caught up, so was just sat there really. So you told him he could go. He’d kissed your cheek, and told you he’d order something in for dinner. After a number of hours, your eyes were starting to strain, and you were starting to cramp up in the desk chair. Rubbing your face, you shut the computer down and headed home.
Entering quietly, just in case Spencer had already gone to bed, you dropped your bag by the door. He wasn’t in the living room, and the food he said he’d order was in a bag next to the microwave for you. You slowly peered into the bedroom, and could hear the shower going. You were just about to call to him, then a letter on the end of the bed caught your eye.
Frowning, you picked it up to move it, but the name it was addressed to stopped you.
‘Dear Dr. Joseph Bell,’
You remember a letter being mixed in with your post months ago, addressed to the same name, and Spencer told you he didn’t know who it was.
You couldn’t stop yourself from reading the rest.
And the world stopped.
The intimate words written in delicate handwriting confirming the very thing you’d been denying for months.
Your not sure how long you stood there staring at the sheet of paper, but you span at the sound of the bathroom door opening.
Spencer stepped out, in a t-shirt and sweats, rubbing his hair with a towel.
Then he froze too.
“What is this?” Tears spilling from your eyes.
“It’s… I…” He took a step forward. “Please, it’s not what you think.”
Something inside you snapped. “Not what I think?” You shoved the letter to his chest. “It’s exactly what I’ve been thinking for months!”
He stumbled back a little, letting the letter fall, and trying to grab your hands. “Please, let me just explain.”
“Don’t touch me!” You pulled your hands away from him.
“I’m sorry, please, I just…” He stepped back again, trying to calm his tone. “I never meant for it to get the far. It just, it just happened. And I tried to stop it-”
You scoffed. “You know, I tried, so hard to convince myself this wasn’t happening.” The anger fizzled, and your chest started to feel more and more hollow. “I let everyone else convince me this wasn’t happening.”
The two of you just stared at each other.
“Who even is she?” You asked after a beat.
“I, err… I don’t really know.” He told you quietly.
The anger was raising again. “You… you don’t know? What does that even mean Spencer?”
He took a breath. “She’s a geneticist, she looked at some scans when I was having headaches. But… It’s complicated. She can’t meet in person, and she insisted on using pseudonyms to-”
“Oh god.” You groaned, bring your hands up to cover you face. “You don’t even know her name, do you?”
He didn’t respond.
You left the room.
You grabbed your bag from where you dropped it and opened the door.
“Don’t.” Spencer pleaded, tears down his cheeks. “Don’t do this, please.”
“You did this Spencer. Not me, you!”
“Will you at least tell me where you’re going.”
Then, in a smaller voice. “Are you coming back?”
You stared at him for a second, and slammed the door behind you.
Today, you transferred.
You stayed with Penelope for the week, having collected your things when Spencer was at work. You’d called Hotch the following morning, requesting some personal time. He didn’t question it, so you assumed everyone knew already.
Yesterday you found a position in the New York sex crimes unit that needed an immediate transfer. You went to Hotch this morning with the paperwork. He was upset, but understood you wanting to leave. And you left the office without a glance to the bullpen. You’d be there by next week.
1 month later, you get a call from Penelope.
Maeve Donovan was dead.
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So I'm in finals season...so here's the og team during finals!
Wow I haven't made a post like this in a hot minute
First off, Black Canary would be the one to make sure that there were regular homework nights
Because, y'know, she's the only adult that actually cares
She always supervises/helps. One time Red Tornado was told to supervise
It did not go well
Kaldur tries *so hard* to be helpful
He's the team mom, right? So you'd think he'd be super helpful
My man went to military school and then dropped out of magic school to become a superhero. Probably only learned stuff from an Atlantean pov.
Some stuff? He's super good at. Like I can see him being really good at English since it's he's bilingual
But you show this man a trigonometry question and he will have a mental breakdown
That's where Wally and Dick come in
Are actually super helpful
They're prodigies, so they know everything (especially math and science stuff). But (this may be an unpopular opinion) Wally is a much better tutor than Dick
Sure Wally will absolutely get distracted and eat all your snacks, but I feel like eventually Dick would just get frustrated and want to do your work for you
Which is exactly why Dinah supervises
Of course he gets better once he becomes Nightwing, but Robin Dick Grayson is a little shit and isn't always the most cool-headed guy. Not a great team player
Wally, however? He's gonna be hyping you up when you get frustrated, making jokes, can break things down to a basic level. He's great I miss him
During actual finals though...you *know* that these two chucklefucks are procrastination kings.
With Wally it's understandable, he could write an essay or finish a bunch of chemistry revision in the blink of an eye
But Dick...between school, superheroing, etc. Nobody knows when this guy is finishing his assignments. During cramming sessions he'll do like, five minutes of actual work? Then go play games with Wally (if Dinah and Kaldur aren't paying attention). And yet he's still getting 90s, boi how-
We already know M'gann is making all he bomb-ass study snacks
I feel like she would learn how to make coffee just for finals season to help her friends. Actually becomes really good at it. Good for you M'gann.
Isn't the *best* student academic wise, but she does alright. She does genuinely try to focus during study sessions, although I also feel like she'd get distracted by making sure everyone was comfortable ("do you want more snacks?" "I have a blanket you could borrow!" "Does anyone want music?", etc.).
Is definitely that girl that makes her notes all pretty and Aesthetic™ though, so everyone wants to borrow her notes come finals season. Also makes flash cards for everyone
Conner...I'm not gonna lie, he's the worst person to study with
Kinda like Wally and Dick: already knows everything, doesn't take notes, is probably off doing something else (in this case, probably practicing or watching static)
But unlike the Dumbass Duo, he genuinely seems to just...not care. And especially season 1 Conner can be kind of a prick about it
Dinah: Conner, come back here, you need to revise
Conner: *lists off the formula by heart without even looking at her*
Although, to be fair, if you're stuck on something and need to know the answer, it's a whole lot faster to ask him then to look it up/find it in your notes
And he likes helping M'gann in the kitchen (makes terrible coffee though)
So he's got some perks
We already know she slaps in English class (she's a literature major in college), and we know she does her assignments in a timely manner (or at least better than Wally)
But also...I kinda feel like this girl is *a mess* in finals season
She's got that Asian Parenting Mom™ yelling in the back of her brain that she's never prepared enough. And personal headcanon? This girls handwriting is abismal, so her notes are kinda shit
But she genuinely tries so hard, and eventually pulls through like she always does
But God forbid you talk to her while she's pulling a Stress Allnighter? You're a dead man
Is definitely the reason M'gann learned how to make coffee
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OKK WE ALL LIKE ROYAL!KAZUHA BUT WHAT ABT BODYGUARD!KAZUHA
he likes to tease you, very subtle, but the glimmer of mischief in his autumn eyes doesn’t lie.
he know you very well too, he’s observant and smells if something is wrong with you. so he tries to crack jokes (even if hes not to good at it) and humming a song for you
when u don’t want to go to your private lessons, he will find u hiding in ur usual spot, and sit beside u to read outloud, and u at some point couldn’t concentrate enough bc he was too close and his lips where so pink and looked so soft, and he smelled so good and he’s so gentle all the time-
in the days you want to hear awesomes stories, you force him to sit beside you at the shade of the tree, rambling and asking about it until he laughs and his eyes glimmer and shine in the sunlights that filters from the green leaves and just talk a lot about his travels and the friends he made in the way
I GAVE U THE POWER ZUZU, TO PLEASE CONTINUE MY BRAINROT ABT KAZUHA
THE TABLES HAVE BEEN TURNED.... OH BOY..
oh dawg pause cause my brain legit short circuited at the mention of his lips OWKSKSHSJSHJSSN YEAH I GOT IT REALLLL BAD.
observant bodyguard!kazuha who sneaks you your favorite snacks on sleepless nights per your request... he'll try to slip away back to his post but you insist that he stays and shares with you since he "got too much"
(he didn't. you just like the way he looks in the moonlight that filters through your curtains.)
pretty bodyguard!kazuha who accidentally dozes off as you two sit under a tree on the palace grounds, his head leaning against the bark and his lips slightly parted. you can't take your eyes off of him -- looking at him now, you realize how tense he really is every day. with his white-blonde lashes fluttering as he snoozes, kazuha looks like an angel. two things cross your mind then, the first questioning why a man such as kazuha is a bodyguard. the second being about how soft his lips look.
IM SORRY I GOTTA INDULGE BUT LIKE
you kiss him as he sleeps. it's nothing but a soft press of lips against his cheek and your whisper of thanks is on the breeze that follows. you fluster then, your own cheeks burning as you realize what you've done. you can't help but touch your fingers to your lips as you return to your book, your vision blurry as you mentally crucify yourself for being so hasty.
beside you, your bodyguard cracks open one eye to see you with one hand on your face while his own face burns. he'd woken up the moment he felt you getting closer. his heart threatens to leap out of his chest and the place you kissed tingles with the selfish desire for more.
he wants more -- needs more. but he can never have it. so the two of you sit beneath that tree, each of you daydreaming of what can never be.
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[CN] ASMR Transcript - PvP (Shaw)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an ASMR, 单挑, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
Games are only interesting when there’s a bet involved.
[ keyboard noises ]
Avoiding my combo attacks?
You must be overestimating yourself.
Getting others to ambush me?
[ keyboard noises ]
In that case, you’re all doomed.
[ keyboard noises ]
Still not running?
Truly courting death.
[ door opens ]
[ door closes + footsteps ]
Huh? Why’s your hair drenched?
It suddenly rained along the way?
You’re way too unlucky.
...why are you looking at me?
Not every downpour’s related to me.
Do you think I’d be so happy after winning a game that it’d start to rain?
Tsk. I’m not that childish.
I’ll find a towel for you.
[ Shaw walks away ]
Mm, I was just playing for fun.
The opponents were noobs.
It was boring.
What is it? Doubting my abilities?
Want to play a Solo match with me?
It’s fine even if you don’t play well.
I’ll teach you.
Also, haven’t you heard the saying -
Gaming skills are honed through trials and tribulation.
I asked you to play a Solo in a game, not a Solo in real life.
Okay, before that,
You should change your T-shirt.
Don’t worry, it’s clean.
[ MC walks away + Shaw hums + keyboard noises ]
...she takes such a long time to change.
Was she born in the year of the tortoise or something...
[ MC returns ]
That took way too long.
I waited for half a day.
Yeah, it’s slow to me.
Tsk... you can’t operate the game if you’re sitting that far away.
Come a little closer.
[ chair rolling noises ]
A little closer.
[ chair rolling noises ]
I’ll be merciful.
I’ll give you the chance to pick your character first.
Hm? You want to decide who I’d pick?
Fine fine fine.
Do you think that’s enough to defeat me?
You talk big.
Go on and pick then.
You’re using Superwoman?
This hero is pretty hard to use.
Are you sure you know how to?
I shouldn’t have doubted Superwoman.
What should I use then?
Mm... Superwoman’s skills can trump Cottontail Teemo’s completely.
I’ve already lost half the battle at the start.
No problem at all.
I’ll go with this one.
Wait, don’t start yet.
We haven’t decided on the bet for the Solo, have we?
The loser has to compensate a little something.
Who’d play with you without a bet?
Who wants to drink that?
I bought a box of Cola yesterday.
No need for you to do that.
...I’ve got it.
The person who loses
Will leave the rest of their day to the other person.
Why do I always bet on this?
Because it’s my favourite bet, of course.
You’ve already picked the hero I’m playing.
You don’t lack even this bit of self-confidence, do you?
That’s more like it.
It’s a deal then. Let’s start!
[ keyboard noises ]
...where are you hiding?
Okay, just you wait. Let’s see if I can find you.
Where are you... come out come out come out come out...
Hm? Hmph. Heh. Found you!
[ intense keyboard noises ]
Why’s your Superwoman
Squatting in the grass like my Cottontail Teemo?
HAHAHAHA You get startled way too easily.
[ intense keyboard noises ]
Why are you using your double swords now?
If you use your ace, I’d be dead.
[ intense keyboard noises ]
Still not using it?
Sigh. Since Superwoman has let me off,
I’m slipping away then.
You want to find me?
Unlike you, I can’t be found that easily.
I’m warning you.
It’s an instant disqualification if you sneak a peek at my screen.
[ intense keyboard noises ]
The little bunny shall strike now!
YEAH! Nice kill!
Admitting your defeat?
[ angry keyboard noises ]
Hey hey hey, it’s always exceptionally fun to see your gloomy expression.
I didn’t hold back.
You played pretty well earlier.
I can see that you’ve been practising.
You just can't beat me.
Since the winner and loser have been decided,
Shouldn’t you admit your defeat?
As for what will happen next...
I haven’t thought about it.
Whatever it is...
[ kiss ]
Whatever it is, it’s starting to rain.
And we can do anything we want.
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Two wolves and a bard.
@themountainarchives Day 6!
Prompt: Dressing wounds.
Warnings: none apply
Additional tags: hurt/comfort, whump, post 01x06: rare species, (as in, immediately after), mother nature 2 - jaskier 0
Can also be read on the archive.
The trail up the mountain is infested with monsters, so Borch said. It is, of course, Jaskier's rotten luck that he should bump into an easy death on his own, on his way down, without Geralt.
He thinks he's doing fine, for the most part. Sure, he's a bit hungry and he still hasn't come across any water sources to refill his waterskin but he's absolutely certain he's managed to survive at least four monster encounters so far, if the violent and animalistic howls he's heard are anything to go by.
And they are violent.
Whichever retched creature they're coming from, Jaskier is sure he'd make a very succulent and easy prey with only his lute to swing at them.
At claws and... teeth. Very sharp teeth.
And by 'survive' of course he means avoid. He's still in possession of all his limbs because he's avoided encountering any of Geralt's little friends. Very implicit in his method is the fact that he wouldn't actually live to tell the tale if he came face to face with one of them.
But yeah, he could've been dead four times already, but he isn't. So take that, Geralt! Who needs witchers when you can just hide behind a wide trunk and pretend to be one with nature, not even breathing because it's probable they can track you down by the sound of your panicked heaving? And by the sound of your heartbeat, too. And by the smell of your fear.
It sounds very unlikely that witchers' mutagens allow them to smell distress, no matter how many times Geralt's told him to calm down in the middle of an impromptu hunt because 'he's making it worse'.
Jaskier always thought he was mocking him — in a very stoic, serious, Geralt-y kind of way.
But now he's not so sure.
Because he could swear the sounds aren't going away, this time, despite him not moving a hair to warrant being heard.
In fact, it sounds as if the creature's getting closer. It's close enough that Jaskier can feel the ground rattle when it moves about, certainly sniffing the air to try and pick up his scent.
"Awoooooooooooo," it howls.
Ohhh, he's fucked.
It sounds like a very big, ferocious wolf. Jaskier starts to break a sweat. The irony doesn't escape him. Now isn't that fantastic? Isn't it fantastic that he should die eaten by none other than a fucking wolf, an actual animal, a normal creature on a path that's supposed to be brimming with monsters?
A godsdamned wolf.
A godsdamned wolf that's found him.
"Ohhhhh, no, no," Jaskier blurts out high-pitched as the figure of the furry creature rounds the big weeping willow he'd been hiding behind and shows him his teeth, "wolfie, wolfie, don't— I promise I really am not as delectable as I look?"
He doesn't think his voice sounds like his voice.
The animal is massive and dark grey and predatory, it stands there in a stance ready to attack but doesn't attack, almost as if he's rejoicing in the bard's misery. Toying with its food like a bloody cat because when Jaskier slowly moves away to try and — escape? Make a run for it? — well, there's a growl that resounds in the low-light forest like a warning.
He is not going to make a pretty corpse.
Still, he won't have it said that Julian Alfred Pankratz stood frozen facing death without a fight.
So he does make a pathetic run for it.
And next the massive animal is jumping on him and digging its very sharp claws on his back and legs and Jaskier lets out a scream that tears at his vocal cords and hopes for a quick demise.
It's all he can think of, at that moment, when the pain flares up and he finds himself face down on the dirt: he hopes the wolf snaps his neck quick and easy so he won't have to withstand actually being munched by it like human dinner.
And then the pressure at his back disappears, he sees a bundle of dark flying through the air with the corner of his eye and then hears the unmistakable sound of something hitting a tree and a cowering cry of pain instantly after.
Like a puppy that's been kicked.
That blessed voice. That stupid, fucking arrogant and self-centred blessed voice.
Geralt's back. He's going to live!
"Grrltt," he tries, turns his head and sees the witcher kneeling next to him and then he's being lifted like a little baby, Geralt supporting his weight under his armpits, keeping his back intact because he probably doesn't want to touch the open blood-gushing wounds his canine friend left there.
"Fuck," Geralt growls again, like it's the only kind of response he's capable of.
Jaskier tries to stand up on his own but can't — another painful wail and he realises he's sprained one of his ankles.
"Leave it, just hold on to me," the witcher bites out annoyed, "it's a pack, we have to get out of here."
Jaskier can't catch his breath and only manages an agreeing sound, much to Geralt's chagrin.
"Jaskier, hold on to me," he repeats, and this time Jaskier has to roll his eyes even if it makes him dizzy.
"Imfuckn tryn!" he blurts out almost intelligibly, pretty sure a gigantic fucking wolf pinning him down to the ground has knocked the air out of his lungs.
That and the brief moment of clarity just now when he thought his life was ending.
Tends to make one a little speechless.
Geralt makes another grunt that, frankly, ticks Jaskier right off this time. He almost retrieves his hands from the dark leather armour and lets himself trip backwards, he'll take the pain of the fall if it'll mean not having to cope with Geralt's offended tone right now, as if he's got any godsdamned right to be offended!
At some point or another he must pass out, however briefly. Because he remembers seeing Geralt's murderous glare just a moment ago, but then he opens his eyes and he's seeing Geralt's left boot on the ground every two seconds and his white hair is in Jaskier's nose and Jaskier is... on his back?
"Hmm. You're gonna want to be out when I clean up those wounds."
And Jaskier thinks that's a wonderful idea, so he buries his nose back in Geralt's neck and lets his long hair brush softly against his skin and offers a groggy hum in response.
Unfortunately, he is not unconscious when Geralt dresses up his wounds. He was, before his back decided to burst into flames and yank him from the hazy feverish state he'd fallen into. He startles and hisses awake and Geralt immediately holds him down.
"Shhh, Jas, don't."
"Don't shush me!" he shouts back. He's lying on his stomach on a much nicer bedroll than the one he's used to and can only shove weakly at Geralt's hand holding that wet cloth.
"I have to disinfect them."
He realises when he turns his head to the other side that Geralt's laid him down near the fire, that Roach is tied up to a trunk and merrily enjoying some wheatgrass a few feet over, that he's shirtless and that there's already a very firm bandage around his left thigh; almost tight enough to stop his blood flow.
Geralt lets out a very audible sigh but doesn't touch his back again.
"Jaskier... I'm sorry. This wouldn't—" but he doesn't say it. Of course he doesn't say it.
Geralt's quite allergic to speaking his feelings aloud.
Jaskier doesn't turn to look back at him.
"Damn right it's your fault," he retorts unhappily.
He's not letting him off the hook so easily this time. Because he can feel his skin throb rhythmically with his heartbeat and the pain is already so unbearable he has half a mind to ask Geralt to knock him out so he won't have to suffer through the excruciating torture of having alcohol poured all over it.
"It isn't my fault you're so far gone for that crazy witch."
He hears a dripping sound that means Geralt's unmistakably pouring liquid over something and goes tense, bracing for the pain and thinking perhaps this is not the best time to antagonize his caretaker.
His mouth doesn't catch up to that idea, though.
"Or that you've got the emotional stability of a fucking rock."
When Geralt swipes away at the blood pooling around his lower back, his touch is nothing but gentle. Jaskier still jerks on his spot so violently that another hand comes to immobilize him, pinning him down firmly over his shoulder blades.
"Just a bit more."
"No. Ffffu—," he finally turns his head back to the other side and looks up at Geralt with teary eyes, "—how much more?"
And he thinks I don't care, just leave it, leave me here like you intended, because it feels like he got lashed with a leather whip a hundred times, like someone melted candlewax and poured it all over his tender skin.
At least Geralt has the decency to look apologetic.
"Just a bit," he repeats, eyebrows furrowed together and that hand previously pinning Jaskier down comes to brush his hair off his eyes in the softest way possible.
Jaskier closes his eyes because he doesn't want to look at that expression. Whatever it means, he doesn't want to unpack that now. Because there's probably nothing to unpack. Because Geralt left it pretty clear he'd rather be relieved of his company and just because he's feeling guilty it doesn't change anything.
He hasn't taken those words back.
So Jaskier keeps his eyes shut closed and bites his tongue hard to try and derail attention from the pain on his back by tasting blood over his lips.
When Geralt helps him sit up, he's panting.
He knows he won't get a wink of sleep and again, he doubts Geralt would agree to knock him out for a few hours but thinks that it's worth a shot asking for it.
"Open your mouth," Geralt repeats, and Jaskier blinks into focus and tries to think of a witty joke but fails, only sees two fingers coming closer to his face and then feels them brushing over his lips.
Applying some sort of... potion.
"What's..." he croaks, confused, when he sees Geralt placing something shiny and small back on the ground next to him. A vial.
It's barely even swallowable, in that it's very little, but it's immensely strong. Sour.
"White gull," Geralt finally explains, "will numb the pain."
And something else, Jaskier adds in his head, vaguely remembering something about White Gull being unsuitable for human consumption, suddenly feeling himself falling into Geralt's arms like a puppet, barely noticing how the warm colours of the fire behind turn cold, purple and blue mixing with the green of the trees that are suddenly bending down in odd shapes.
He also barely registers Geralt applying that roll of bandages around his waist and chest for the next couple of minutes. But that's because he has his nose buried back in the witcher's hair again.
"Gerlt... hair is glowing..."
And when Geralt hums this time Jaskier feels it in his chest as well. A low comforting rumble before he's pretty sure he hears that horrific howling again — when he looks up there's that wolf but it's white this time and it doesn't bare its teeth. Roach doesn't even flinch.
"Is it working?"
Jaskier doesn't answer, simply because he doesn't hear him. In any case, the way he slumps against Geralt's form and starts purring like a content cat is enough indication the pain is dulled.
And if Geralt lets him stay like that for a little while, well.
It's not like Jaskier will remember it.
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Heartslabyul with Food Souls
Riddle Roseheart and Fruit Tart
“You have a queen as the food souls?!”
“Are you that surprised to see Yours Truly here?”
Riddle is very surprised to find a young woman wearing a ballgown and holding umbrellas just walking inside the rose maze. He becomes more fascinating when he learns the women's identity. Who would have thought this beautiful young woman is a food soul.
Fruit Tart admits she became curious about this new world. That is why she asks Y/n to summon her so she can enjoy the scenery over there. She was very drawn to Heartslabyul because the smell of rose and tea captivated her. And Riddle as a gentleman, politely asking her if she wants to join him for an afternoon tea. She immediately agrees.
They bonded over time. Riddle politeness and knowledge especially at tea amazed Fruit Tart. So she starts to speak more civilly with Riddle, something that she only does with Y/n as her Master Attendant.
Trey Clover and Pastel De Nata
“Keep your hand on yourself, human.”
Trey's meeting with Pastel De Nata is something he found interesting. He meets him in the Kitchen. Yeah, nothing out of ordinary except for the exquisite dessert that rests in the middle of the preparation table. Tempted by the smell, Trey tries to take one but immediately gets slapped in his hand by Pastel De Nata.
Pastel De Nata usually ignored Trey whenever they use a kitchen together until Trey start to show off his skill in making a dessert. Suddenly, Pastel De Nata casually tells Trey a few tricks to do the technique for baking. (Teacher-student Vibe). This resulted in an accidental bonding time.
Trey didn’t mind the lectures, especially from someone skillful like Pastel De Nata. His baking skill is something Trey must give applause for. That one time, Trey was tempted to ask Y/n to let Pastel De Nata visit his family bakery for Winter Holiday and maybe help around the shop. Unfortunately, He refuses the invitation stating that his job is to be on His Master attendant's side.
Cater Diamond and Kimchi
“I didn’t know you would be this hot in person”
“You didn’t see my sister yet if you think I’m hot.”
Cater find Kimchi while he tries to find a good spot for the next magicame. He then stumbled against Kimchi that danced inside the Rose Maze. Captivated by her movement, he decide to take it on video. After that, he startled Kimchi with a loud clap thus ending her performance. He was pretty surprised when he learned that Kimchi is one of the food souls Y/n has.
Kimchi at first was still wary with Cater especially after seeing how obsessed he is with the phone but after being pestered by her sister, Ddeokbokki’s. She starts to hang around Cater although it is usually more like she practiced her dancing and Cater records it. (He secretly shows it to Y/n).
Cater try to ask for Kimchi permission to post that recording online. Kimchi didn’t like any attention. She even told Cater to go for her sister for this kind of thing. But because of Cater's beggings, she allowed it. The video blows up in one night. Now Kimchi is the one that pesters Cater to delete that video because there is certainly someone (Vil) that keeps talking to her about giving him the dance lessons.
Ace Trapolla and Black Tea
“Woah! Be careful with your gun!”
“Maybe next time you learn not to startled me.”
Ace and Black Tea have a weird relationship. The first time they met, Black Tea almost shoot him in the head for bullying Y/n. Thankfully, he manages to dodge. After Ace and Y/n form a close relationship, Black Tea still didn’t like Ace. Mainly because of his prank. Y/n needs to stop Black Tea before things start to go out of control and try to get Ace down from the tree.
Black Tea harbor some dislike towards Ace. What is the reason? Simple. He always drags Y/n into trouble or pushes some unnecessary trouble towards Y/n. Black Tea always shoots Ace if she thinks he crossing a line. But she must admit, Ace makes a pretty strong bodyguard. If someone tries to harm Y/n while Black Tea isn’t there, just count on Ace and Deuce. (After Ace told her that incident, she went for a manhunt)
Ace has his own reason always picking a fight with Black Tea. First, he tries to pester her by giving him some shooting lessons. Secondly, he claimed that Black Tea is too serious so he try to cheer her up (it backfired). Although they both can’t be left alone in the same room for over 10 minutes. They have the same priority. Y/n protection is the top one.
Deuce Spade and Vodka
“Is that a white eagle?”
“Give me a liquor and I allow you to pet Andre.”
Deuce is in a fight with another delinquent that keeps making trouble for him until a white eagle swoop in and attacks them. The young woman with white hair soon pops out and freezes the rest of them before turning to Deuce. She introduces herself as one of the Y/n food souls that have been summoned.
Vodka will say Deuce is such a strange fellow. Why did you try so hard to be a model student? But the second someone tries to mess with him or her master attendant. Boom. His persona as the delinquent shows up. She teases him for having a dual personality.
Soon Deuce starts to know her better and when Vodka comes to visit or is summoned, he will take her to look around the school. But when they return to the dorm, Vodka oddly will smell like alcohol and when Y/n asks Deuce about this, he will sheepishly smile and shrug. Deuce learn if you want to ask favor from Vodka just give her a drink with alcohol.
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Friendsgiving, Part 1--Change of Plans
This story is/will be a multi-chapter Thanksgiving fic featuring the DC AU gang! I know, I know … everyone’s on a Christmas tip right now (it is December), but when have ANY of you known me to be on time with anything?
Story summary: The gang are spending a Friendsgiving getaway together with a few unexpected guests.
FYIs: It is now my head canon that all of my (Asian) Liams are fluent in Korean; however, for now only SGL will speak it in times of extreme emotion (anger, throes of passion).
Riley and Liam are finally on the road to coupledom.
This story references details found in this fic, but you don’t need to read it to understand what unfolds here.
THANK YOU to all who read this over in parts and pieces!
To all who will read this story, THANK YOU! Your taking the time to read, comment, like, and/or reblog is appreciated far more than you know!
Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors.
Subsequent chapters will be posted in a timely manner.
All characters belong to Pixelberry, except Alyssa Devereaux. She’s the best girl of @burnsoslow and has all the permissions to be in DC.
Song Inspiration: end of my street, gglum: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wFXXTESJlQg
Word Count: 6,000 (hopefully it keeps you interested and entertained!)
Leo and his work BFF, Chet, were in Leo’s office, tossing a blue stress ball between them. The men sat opposite each other, lobbing and catching as they discussed lunch options.
“We could do Chik-Fil-A; they deliver.” Leo suggested.
“Orrrr, we could go to the Purple Pheasant,” Chet countered. “They have the best chicken wings, AND Sasha is part of the Freaky Friday lineup.”
The Purple Pheasant was a strip club approximately a half-mile from their office. It did serve pretty tasty food, possibly to make up for their watered-down drinks and lackluster dancers.
Leo frowned at Chet’s suggestion. “I don’t think Madeleine will understand me purchasing strip club chicken wings. And I thought Sasha’s day was Tuesday.”
Chet shook his head. “Nah. Trina is the Tuesday Treat.”
Leo nodded. “Trina’s okay, but Sasha’s got the yum- yums,” he remarked in a tone filled with longing.
“Dude … let’s do it! I’ll treat. You can Venmo me or cover the next lunch,” Chet urged as he caught the ball with one hand.
Before Leo could reply, there was excited knocking on his half-closed office door. Both men frowned as they looked towards the doorway. They exchanged worried looks when they saw the building badge dangling in the air.
“Hey, guys! It’s ME! Justin! From IT!” the person said in a too-loud voice, causing Chet to facepalm and Leo to shake his head.
Leo was internally panicking; three departments struck fear in his heart when they showed up at his door: Legal, Human Resources, and IT. NO ONE from those divisions ever stopped by merely to shoot the breeze.
No, when they showed up … there was trouble.
And neither Leo nor Chet had ever followed IT’s user policy despite signing the agreement.
Chet drew in a deep breath, his eyes darting between the badge and Leo’s laptop. “Wipe your browser history and if he finds anything, say it must be a virus,” he instructed in a hurried whisper.
“Hey, Justin,” Leo called back, hoping his voice sounded normal. “Give me two seconds!”
“Okie doke!” Justin replied cheerfully.
With a last panicked look at Chet, Leo told Justin to enter.
A tallish man with Clark Kent glasses and dark hair gelled into waves entered. He wore a plaid shirt which was neatly tucked into a pair of khakis, and a pair of soft-soled loafers. His eyes appreciatively took in Leo’s office.
“I’ve never been here before. Wooooow … this is so much better than my space. You know, the IT office used to be an evidence room. It’s nothing but brick walls, metal shelving, long tables, and cubicles.” Justin looked around appreciatively. “But this … this is NICE!”
The tech was a complete dork: His interests included studying chess moves, medieval weaponry, and the history of polka dots. Rumor had it Justin had a twin brother named Anton who was in a Russian prison for the attempted overthrow of an Eastern European government.
Justin stayed to himself in the IT’s office located in the building’s basement: He brought breakfast from home and ate it at his desk; he was assigned the late lunch hour and tended to eat out or in the third-floor canteen that no one ever utilized. He rarely answered his phone, and all emails were answered with, ‘Okay.’
“What can we do you for?” Chet asked.
The sooner Justin left, the better off they all would be.
“Oh, I came up to …” Justin trailed off as his eyes landed on a framed photo on Leo’s desk.
It was a picture of the gang at Sandy Point the previous summer. Leo, Liam, and Drake were shirtless and wearing swimming trunks. They were in muscleman poses, chests puffed out and biceps curled.
Max was wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt, his arm wrapped around Olivia’s waist. Olivia was wearing a red bikini top, her crimson hair flowing beneath a wide, floppy hat. A huge smile was on her face. Madeleine’s face was hidden behind huge sunglasses, her body encased in a green one-piece bathing suit. Riley’s head was thrown back, her mouth opened in a laugh, and a bottle of beer fisted in her hand.
“You came to …” Leo prompted.
“How did you get a picture of my GIRLFRIEND?” Justin practically yelled, but not angrily. Indeed, the man sounded abnormally excited.
“Your … girlfriend?” Chet repeated in a stupefied tone.
Justin was pointing excitedly to the picture with a wide grin on his face. “Yes! OLIVIA!”
Leo practically fell out of his chair. “Olivia Nevrakis is your GIRLFRIEND? HOW? WHEN?”
“We were college sweethearts. We’re in a long-distance relationship now.”
“She graduated college over 10 years ago! She has a NEW boyfriend! She’s probably had SEVERAL new boyfriends! See that guy in the shirt? THAT’S the guy she’s been IN A RELATIONSHIP with for the past six years. They LIVE TOGETHER, Justin!”
“No, no, no! She told me we would always be in touch, that I was SPECIAL!” Justin protested. “It’s okay … kind of … if she feels the need to see other people until we can be in the same city again.”
Chet shook his head incredulously. “You live in Rosslyn, correct?” He knew Olivia and Max had an apartment in DC’s DuPont Circle.
Justin nodded, his eyes fixed on Olivia’s face in the photo. “She’s even more beautiful now than she was then,” he whispered to himself.
“Olivia lives EXACTLY THREE MILES AWAY!” Leo yelled. His eyes were wide, and his cheeks flushed from holding back laughter at the total ridiculousness of the conversation.
“That’s not long distance,” Chet pointed out. “Although to your point Justin, it isn’t the same city or the same state.”
“WE MESSAGE ON SOCIAL MEDIA!”
“Prove it!” Leo challenged.
Justin looked between the two men, his eyes hard. “I don’t have to prove my relationship with my girlfriend to you!”
“She’s NOT your girlfriend! Whatever ship you and Liv had sailed a long time ago.”
Chet exhaled a long breath. “Look, Justin … you just dropped some heavy shit, bro. We’re gonna need to see at least one message.”
Justin relaxed and pulled out his phone. “Okay, here’s one of our Facebook exchanges.” He passed the phone to Chet who raised an eyebrow at the words on the screen. Chet looked at Leo before passing the device over.
With a slight sense of dread, Leo took the phone. He chewed on his bottom lip as he read the Messenger conversation:
On December 23, 2018, JustinFromIT sent: Merry Christmas! Miss you, sweetie
On January 3, 2019, LivvyN sent: Cheers!
Leo inhaled deeply as he tried to find the least hurtful words. “Justin, this is just an acknowledgement of your holiday greeting. Also, this message is over two years old.”
Justin angrily snatched his phone back. “You asked to see a message. We text as well, BUT THOSE ARE PRIVATE!”
Leo’s head dropped sharply and deeply, his forehead bouncing lightly against his desk.
He did not have time for this shit. He wanted lunch. He wanted his Thanksgiving break to begin. He was ready for the week-long trip to Deep Creek Lake with his girl and the gang.
Instead, he was dealing with Justin Severus’ delusions about a long-ago, imaginary relationship.
Taking a deep breath, he raised his head; a false smile was plastered onto his face. “Justin, let’s shelve this for another day, okay? Chet and I are gonna grab some wings and yum-yums for lunch, then we’re at an offsite meeting for the rest of the day.”
A look of surprise quickly crossed Chet’s face. He was unaware of the offsite meeting.
Justin frowned. “Monday?” he asked.
Leo nodded. “Monday it is!”
Just not this coming Monday.
Chet rose, tilting his head towards the door. “I’ll just go … grab my stuff,” he muttered.
“Meet you at the elevator,” Leo responded as he shut down his laptop before powering off his work phone; he placed both in the bottom drawer of his desk before locking it.
With a big grin and a clap on Justin’s shoulder, Leo shrugged into his coat and left the IT tech alone in the room.
Justin continued to stare at the picture of Olivia.
Drake x Alyssa
Drake Walker leaned against his truck door, arms crossed against his unzipped brown leather bomber jacket. He was holding a conversation with his work besties: Leroy, Tyrone, and Lucy.
“You lucky sonofabitch!” Lucy playfully swatted his arm while rolling her eyes in feigned annoyance.
Drake laughed. “Damn, Luce … tell me how you really feel!”
“How the hell did you manage a holiday week in Deep Creek?” Tyrone demanded.
“Yeah, inquiring minds want to know,” Leroy chimed in.
Drake pulled out his phone to pull up the cabin’s website. “The gang and I were hanging out over the summer, and the idea of a Friendsgiving came up. More talk, and we decided to rent a house. Liam went through his groupons, pulled some strings with one of the big wigs at his firm, and here we are.”
“It’s GORGEOUS there!” Lucy exclaimed. “Sheila and I went this past spring and it’s amazing. Good hiking, camping, and water sports.”
“I did pack some camping stuff. We’re there for a week, so hoping me and Devereaux get to sneak away for one night at least.”
“Man, eff that tent! I’d never leave the lodge,” Tyrone commented as he scrolled through pictures.
“Seems things are going good with you and Baby Girl,” Leroy observed.
Drake grinned. “Things are great!”
He glanced at his watch and pushed his body away from his vehicle. “Yo, I gotta get my show on the road! Gotta pick up Lyss, pack some clothes, maybe swing by Target.”
After hugs, well-wishes, and promises to exchange plate pics on Thanksgiving Day, Drake pulled out of the parking lot; he saw the McDonald’s across the street and decided to pick up some food. As he waited in the drive-thru line, he turned on his radio; Phil Collins’ In the Air Tonight was playing and nearing the drum solo.
Bobbing his head, Drake turned the radio up; his arms flailed wildly as he played air drums. They abruptly fell when he heard the car horns blaring behind him. With a sheepish look, he put the truck in drive and placed his order.
Seven minutes later, he was pulling up in front of the transitional home where Alyssa worked; she was waiting on the front porch for him. Putting the car in park, he stepped out of the truck to rush around to the passenger door to open it for her.
Alyssa couldn’t help the smile that lit up her face when she saw Drake. She ran down the stairs and walkway to greet him with a breathless kiss on the lips. “Hey, you!” she greeted.
Drake smiled down at her. “Hey, yourself.” He noticed her arms were filled with a package. “Whatcha got?”
“Something for the trip,” Alyssa responded mysteriously as Drake helped her into the truck. Her eyes widened at the fast-food bags. “McDonald’s?? Are there fries?” she asked excitedly.
Drake merely shook his head as he shut the door. Once back behind the wheel, he nodded to the box now sitting in the back seat of the quad cab. “Seriously, what’s in the package?”
Alyssa’s blue eyes fixed on his profile as she gobbled hot, salty French fries. “I bought gifts for your friends.”
Drake’s eyes briefly left the road to look at his girlfriend. “You didn’t have to do that, and they’re your friends too!”
Alyssa shook her head. “I’m invited, but not included. It seems the only ones who have fully accepted me are you and Liam.”
Drake was silent for a moment before speaking. “Liv and Max accept you; they share their weed with you. Mads and Leo accept you. And they more than accept you, baby. They like you!”
“And Riley?” Alyssa shoveled more fries into her mouth.
“Brooks is still … processing stuff. It has nothing to do with either of us, I don’t think. She’s … protecting herself, a little too much. Brooks is just afraid to trust again. But Li’s a good guy; he’s the one she needs.”
“She doesn’t talk to me!”
“She will,” Drake assured.
He turned off New York Avenue onto New Jersey Avenue. “Have you already packed?”
Alyssa nodded as she popped a chicken nugget into her mouth. “I’ll be in and out,” she promised.
“If you’ve forgotten anything, we can always run up to Target.”
Alyssa frowned as she unlocked the truck door. “I am never going to Target with you! Or any retail store, actually.”
Drake groaned. “I didn’t fuck up with you at Target,” he argued.
Alyssa sweetly kissed his cheek. “And you’ll never get the chance.”
“Madeleine, come into my office. NOW!” Bertrand barked through the telephone.
Madeleine rolled her eyes as she hung up the phone. She thumbed through the neat stack of colored folders, pulling a red one. Red meant high priority, and she needed Bertrand’s signature on some forms and agreements before he left for his standing appointment that would keep him out of office for the remainder of the day.
The one that was probably with her cousin, Regina.
She rose from her chair, ran her fingers through her hair, and after a perfunctory knock on her boss’ closed door, entered.
Bertrand was sitting at his desk, his eyes squinted, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He looked up at her before his eyes fell back to the papers in front of him. His index finger jabbed the top paper.
“This is NOT the language I approved for this!” he accused.
Madeleine glanced at the paper. “That is the counteroffer from Banca d’Italia. I’ve drafted a response for your review and approval. I also have some paperwork that requires your signature. I’d like to send them out before I leave today. As you know, I’m out of office next week.”
Bertrand’s head lifted quickly. “Where are you going?”
“You approved my PTO for Thanksgiving week in August,” Madeleine reminded him.
Bertrand frowned. “You just had time off,” he complained.
“Some of our clients are international! They do not observe Thanksgiving.”
Madeleine sighed. “Well, I’m American and I do.”
“This is extremely inconvenient, Madeleine,” Bertrand scowled.
She shook her head slightly while heaving a sigh and crossed one knee over the other; Bertrand’s eyes flickered briefly over a long, shapely leg before meeting Madeleine’s gaze.
“We go through this every year, Bertrand. I give you my planned PTO itinerary in January, submit my requests three months beforehand, calendar it for you, and you STILL act like it’s brand-spanking-new information. Every.Time.”
Silence as employee and employer locked eyes.
“What about Christmas?” Bertrand asked in a more subdued tone.
Madeleine chuckled. “That’s when you take your time off!”
“I’m assuming you won’t be answering my calls next week?”
“You assume correctly. THAT is why you need to sign off on these documents and review this letter of rebuttal before you leave for the day.” Madeleine glanced at Bertrand’s wall calendar; November's picture was a field of pumpkins. October had been a smiling scarecrow. “And when I return, we need to have my annual review before you’re gone for the rest of the year.”
Bertrand was flourishing a pen across expensive vellum. “You’ll get a raise,” he muttered grudgingly.
Bertrand raised an eyebrow as he looked over at his assistant. “I did not say that!”
“Put it in writing,” Madeleine demanded. “I already know you’re gonna pull this same stunt.”
“I am trying to do actual work here!”
“My raise is actual work, too!” Madeleine slid a blank of sheet into her boss’s line of sight.
With a huff, Bertrand began to scribble; Madeleine watched him like a hawk, giving directives as she saw fit.
“Date it. Include the year.”
“Spell my entire name, last name too! NO initials.”
She raised an eyebrow. “TEN PERCENT!”
Bertrand glowered. “Jesus Christ, Madeleine … I am not an idiot!”
“Not a complete one, anyway.”
“Four hundred and eighty-nine dollars!” Olivia screamed at the television.
However, the middle-aged man dressed up as Billy Idol chose to bid one dollar.
“Idiot!” Olivia seethed. “Someone will bid way closer than that,” she predicted.
The camera panned to Drew Carey and Olivia’s nose scrunched. She didn’t like skinny Drew; he looked weird and was unfunny. But she absolutely loved the game show; it had been a sick day/stay-home staple since her childhood.
She pulled freshly laundered clothing from the wicker basket in front of her on the bed she shared with Maxwell, inspecting clothing before folding; some stayed in a pile on the bed, while others went into their shared suitcase.
She looked back up at the television in time to see Cinderella win the Maytag full-size, front-loading washer and dryer set with a bid of $512; Billy Idol looked dejectedly into the camera. Olivia turned off the electronic device and picked up her tablet. She quickly typed a website into the search bar, clicked on a link, and stared at the page that loaded.
Olivia had visited the page at least once a day for the past two weeks, her eyes reading sentences she had now memorized. Her thumb hovered over the link as it did every time she visited; as she had done time and time before, she exited out.
With a frustrated huff, Olivia tossed the tablet onto the bohemian quilt and turned her attention back to the laundry; her thoughts, however, were in a jumbled freefall:
She needed to make a decision, and she didn’t have a lot of time left to do so.
She needed to discuss it with Maxwell; it would affect him as well.
Did she really want to do this?
Olivia didn’t know. What she did know was that she was hungry. For fried chicken.
Deciding to take a break from packing and agonizing over should she or shouldn’t she, Olivia rose from the bed to peer out the bedroom windows to see which food trucks were lining New Hampshire Avenue on this sunny Friday. Her eyes fell to the windowsill, catching sight of the blunt Maxwell had rolled the night before; Olivia sighed.
She wanted to light it up so badly; Max wouldn’t care. He had plenty more in his stash. But Olivia had promised herself no weed until she and Max had discussed their options and arrived at a decision they both could agree upon.
Her gaze shifted to the street’s curbside; her face frowned as she saw the lunch lines begin to form at the mobile eateries. Then her eyes widened when she sighted the red and yellow truck emblazoned with DC Fried Chicken Kitchen.
Hot damn and holy fuck!
Olivia’s feet stumbled over each other as she rushed to pull on yoga pants and a hoodie. She pulled her hair into a high ponytail while shoving her feet into a pair of slides that had seen better days but were her most comfortable pair of shoes. After grabbing a fistful of crumpled bills from her purse (the truck didn’t take cards), she raced out the door.
She hunched her shoulders against the day’s chill as she made her way to New Hampshire Avenue; as she walked, Olivia wondered if she should get Maxwell some chicken as well; she quickly negated the idea.
Maxwell was at work in Farragut Square.
He had his own food trucks to choose from.
Liam sat behind his desk, sitting ramrod straight in his oxblood-colored leather desk chair. In a far corner, his messenger bag and laptop bag leaned against his wooden coatrack much like presents beneath a Christmas tree; his olive-colored pea coat hung directly above them.
On this Friday before Thanksgiving week, he was ready to get out of the office and prepare to hit the road tomorrow. Despite him having a Zoom meeting Monday morning, and tasked with his monthly billing on Tuesday, he was looking forward to the getaway.
And spending quality time with Riley B.
However, he needed to have a one-on-one with his paralegal Kiara first.
The Deep Creek Deal, as Liam now called it, practically fell into his lap ten days ago. He was having lunch with his work husband, direct supervisor, and mentor Thomas Menendez at the Brazilian steakhouse next door to their office building.
The two men were discussing holiday plans.
Thomas, his fiancée Marie, and their four children were flying to California to visit Thomas’ family. They would be driving to upstate New York at Christmas to visit Marie’s.
Liam had no idea what he was going to do and was explaining his dilemma.
“So, my parents have blown me off because of the K&W Senior Special which includes their neighborhood-wide renowned macaroni salad. Dad says it’s the bomb-diggity.” Liam rolled his eyes. “I could hang out with my friends, but for the past 18 months, we’ve been rotating hosting duties at our places because nothing’s open due to mandates.”
His mentor chewed his grilled chicken breast thoughtfully. “Maybe a trip somewhere? An Air BnB you can rent as a group, get some groceries, and chow down someplace different?”
Liam shrugged as he stopped a passing waiter who was carrying a rack of bacon wrapped steak. “We’re looking into that. While I think Thanksgiving should be all about gatherings and lots of food, we are seriously sick of seeing the same walls, the same décor, the same … everythings!”
He was angrily biting into the tender beef when a smoky voice purred, “Room for one more, boys?”
Thomas and Liam looked up into the face of Ana De Luca, the managing partner of the firm. She was the boss of Thomas’ boss, and both fearsome and fascinating. The two men hastily stood, Liam pulling out the chair Thomas helped Ana into.
Ana smiled thinly before taking an empty water glass from the table and filling it with sparkling water. “So, what are we talking about?” she asked, her eyes going between the two men.
“Holiday plans,” Thomas replied as he dug his fork into rice and beans.
“Oh, fun! I’m going to San Francisco to spend the week with my daughter Brooke and her husband.” Ana turned her gaze to Liam. “What about you, Mr. Fast-Tracking Junior Partner with the killer sock game?”
Liam was non-plussed. The MANAGING PARTNER knew who he was! AND about his sock game, which she had called KILLER!
He was firm famous.
Thomas chuckled. “You may be the first person to render him speechless, Ana.”
Liam glared at Thomas before giving Ana De Luca his full attention, explaining his conundrum. Listening attentively, Ana raked French-manicured fingernails through her gray-flecked, light blonde hair.
“This may be your lucky day,” she mused once Liam finished speaking. “I own property in Deep Creek, Maryland that has been sitting untouched and unused for over a year. It’s a lodge … five bedrooms, five master baths, en suite; additional sleeping accommodations in the basement. Chef’s kitchen, game room, hot tub, fire pit, and a pier that leads directly to the lake.”
Ana pulled out her phone, nails clicking against the screen; Liam stared at her, his jaw slack.
Was this actually happening? THE Managing Partner of the firm was offering up her personal home to Liam as an Air BnB? AND at one of the hottest winter resorts on the east coast?
“What’s your personal cell number?” Ana asked. “I already know your work number.”
Liam felt the flush creep over his cheeks as he recited his phone number. Ana sent the link to the property’s most recent listing, then placed her phone back in her purse. She turned to Thomas.
“Set up a meeting between you, me, and opposing counsel on the Wagner custody case for the week of the 29th.” A slight pause before Ana spoke again. “Include your mentee on the calendar invite.”
Liam was certain he had died and gone to lawyer heaven.
Thomas nodded as he signaled the waiter for the check.
Ana’s gaze turned to Liam next, a smirk on her lips. “I’ll let you know the cost of the rental by tomorrow. Give you and your friends time to decide if my humble abode is up to your standards.”
Liam didn’t care if it was a one room shack with no toilet, he was taking the offer.
Riley B. would understand.
“Thank you, Ms. De Luca,” he stammered.
Ana waved her hand flippantly. “We’re practically living together. Call me by my first name.”
And with that, she rose from the table and walked out of the restaurant. Liam watched her until she disappeared into the bright sunshine, then fumbled for his wallet to pay for his portion of lunch.
Thomas waved him off. “It’s on me. And a word of advice: Ana’s not going to charge you for the rental. Don’t question it and don’t insist on returning the favor. She’s testing you, and this is one exam you wanna pass.”
Liam stared at his mentor, his expression a hybrid of confusion and curiosity. “How do you know?”
Thomas grinned as he handed the server his credit card. “Who do you think helped me get the senior partner position?”
He stared across the desk at Kiara; her hair was a straight curtain, her makeup flawless. Her face wore an expression of annoyance as she met his gaze almost defiantly. Liam lightly cleared his throat before speaking.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Kiara. I promise not to take up too much of your time,” he began.
“What did I do wrong this time?” Kiara interrupted.
A look of surprise crossed Liam’s face. “What makes you think that?”
Kiara rolled her eyes. “It’s no secret that you’re trying to build a case to support firing me.”
“Well, I can assure you this conversation is not of a professional nature. I asked you to meet with me to inquire about Penelope.”
Kiara quickly hid the surprise that crossed her face, but her body language betrayed her. She sat up straighter, leaning forward slightly. “Really?” she asked eagerly.
Liam leaned back into his chair, trying to maintain both social distance and his personal space. “Yes. She’s begun stalking me again: phone calls at odd hours both on my desk phone and my cell; security has had to escort her from the building at least three times, my neighbor insists she’s seen Pen sleeping on my balcony … things like that. I know you two are close friends, so curious if you could shed some light on why these behaviors have started up again.”
Kiara settled back in her chair, her expression bored. She thought Liam was going to seek her advice on a reconciliation; it would definitely make her life easier. Her eyes darted around the office: a Tom Brady Patriots jersey encased behind glass in a wooden framed box in the center of a back wall; various pictures of Liam with family and friends scattered across his credenza; diplomas and jazz posters adorned the back wall.
Her eyes met Liam’s gaze; she shrugged. “My brother broke up with her a couple of weeks ago. She’s not taking it very well. “
Liam raised an eyebrow. “Why’d they break up?”
Kiara studied her fingernails while slouching in her chair. “Zeke’s an ass, and Penelope is an airhead.”
Liam nodded slowly to himself. “Well, she has a support system: you, her parents, and her roommates. “
Kiara’s head lifted to look at Liam. “No, she doesn’t. I’m going home for the holiday, and Zeke will be there. No one needs that kind of drama at a reunion that’s been over 18 months in the making. One of her roommates moved out earlier this year, and the remaining one is going to Vegas next week. And her parents are going to the Bahamas; Penelope wasn’t invited.”
Liam was silent as he processed the information. “Oh,” he finally said.
Kiara scowled at him. “Yeah. Oh.” She heaved a sigh. “I mean, Penelope … she’s my best friend, and I feel really bad that all this crap is dumping on her at the holidays and pretty sure she feels completely abandoned, but …”
Liam’s phone chirped; it was a text from Riley B. She and Max were out front.
“Kiara, thank you for having this conversation with me. Safe travels, Happy Thanksgiving, and see you in one week.”
Liam and Kiara rose at the same time, Kiara sashaying out the door while Liam shrugged into his coat and grabbed his bags. He pulled his door shut behind him, twisting the knob to ensure it locked. His expression was pensive as he crossed the now empty outer office and headed for the elevator.
SGL x Riley B, Maxwell
“ONE.MORE.WORD, Liam! ONE.MORE.WORD!” Riley hollered as she drove erratically up Sixth Street, NW.
Liam’s hand reached for Riley’s, which was resting on the gearshift. “Love, if you’d just listen …”
“YOU CANNOT JUSTIFY THIS!”
Maxwell sat in one of the back seats, wishing he were someplace else … anywhere else. He pulled out his phone to tell Liv about the latest developments with the Deep Creek trip and the argument between Liam and Riley. Olivia texted back telling Maxwell to call her and let her listen.
Liam’s tone turned pleading. “Look, I know it’s unconventional, but she’s all alone at a holiday meant for family and friends. I don’t love her and definitely not looking to reconcile, but I don’t want her alone. Who knows what fresh crazy she’ll come up with?”
Riley’s eyes slid from the road to stare Liam in his eyes. “You know what? We have ALL been rejected before. Maybe this is her time to be unshowered for four days in a room where the blinds are closed 24/7, and her only meals are cold pizza, greasy chicken wings, and leftover Chinese food while crying her eyes out lying on an unmade bed!”
Maxwell quickly glanced at his phone before meeting Riley’s angry eyes in the rearview mirror. “That was … an oddly specific scenario, Riley,” he observed.
“THIS IS A PRIVATE CONVERSATION, MAX!”
“A private conversation held in the presence of a third party makes it a PUBLIC one!” Maxwell retorted.
Olivia texted a thumbs up emoji. Good one, babe!
The SUV swung widely onto Rhode Island Avenue. Liam decided to try another tactic.
“Look, you’re hangry right now; I’ll cook you that buffalo shrimp you like from Whole Foods and some fried potatoes, and we can discuss this reasonably.”
“I am NOT hangry! I am PENELEGRY!” Riley corrected in a screechy voice.
Maxwell’s phone pinged.
Is he gonna feed you too?
He responded with the no idea emoji.
Riley sailed through a red light, unmindful of the honking horns. “Liam, it’s obvious you have no idea who I am or what I need.”
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “I tell and show you ALL THE TIME how I feel about you! I brought you SOCKS!”
Max and Liv exchanged eyeball emojis.
“You say all these pretty words to suck me in, then invite your freaking ex to a getaway meant for us and OUR friends! Your words and actions ARE NOT ALIGNING here!”
Liam’s palm harshly slapped his thigh. “I have to see you interact with YOUR ex ALL THE TIME, Riley B.! ALL THE TIME! If I have to pull on my big boy underwear for what will probably be the rest of our lives, YOU can do it for eight days, if that long!”
The vehicle was pulling into Logan Circle. Riley’s voice was soft when she spoke. “In case you didn’t know, I have to see Drake too.” She swallowed. “And his girlfriend.” She chanced a glance at Liam’s face. “FYI, Underoos are NOT big boy drawers,” she pointed out.
Maxwell laughed out loud, loudly. Liam pinched the bridge of his nose while exhaling an aggravated sigh as his head fell back against the headrest.
“You keep saying you’re my boyfriend, but MY boyfriend wouldn’t bring his crazy ass ex along on a trip that’s supposed to bring us closer!”
“I AM your boyfriend, Riley,” Liam replied evenly.
Riley looked around the car’s interior. “I have a boyfriend? Where? Because I don’t see one!”
“Yeojayeo, eoliseog-eun jis-eul meomchwola! dangsin-ui namja chinguga balo yeogie issseubnida!” Liam thundered. He thumped his chest. “NA!”
Maxwell’s eyes widened; Riley’s narrowed. “I’m assuming you didn’t call me pretty.”
What the fuck was THAT? Olivia asked.
Damn sure wasn’t Spanish, Maxwell replied.
“I told you to stop your foolishness; your boyfriend is RIGHT HERE and it’s ME!” Liam turned away from Riley to look moodily out the window.
Olivia texted: God, when are these two going to fuck?
Not soon enough!
Riley shook her head before her attention was caught by the large, white truck double parked in front of Liam’s building. She nudged him with her elbow; he glared at her. “What?”
She pointed to the truck. ‘I’ll have to park on P Street.”
Liam’s expression softened. “Are you coming up?”
Riley nodded. “ONLY for the food!”
“Kiss and make up?” he pressed.
Riley slightly shook her head. “I am highly pissed about this, Liam.”
Liam’s palm covered the back of Riley’s hand. “Penelope needs to see us together, babe. She needs to see how serious we are about each other.”
Riley’s lips parted to speak, but she began blowing her horn as she made the tight turn around the circle; they were in the left lane and needed to get over to the right lane. “GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY WAY,” she yelled out the passenger window.
With a hard twist of the wheel, she began crossing traffic; the Armada began giving off warning beeps, and her blind-spot lights flashed wildly.
Maxwell whispered a prayer; Liam’s palms covered his eyes. He slowly lowered them when he felt the car’s tire roll over the curb. His expression was shaken when he looked over at Riley, who was lighting a cigarette while putting the car in park.
“You need driving lessons!” Liam complained.
“The District of Columbia thinks I drive just fine!”
“You were dating the DMV guy at the time!”
“He liked the way she handled his gearshift,” Maxwell joked. “Hey, look! We’re in front of Whole Foods. Let’s get some crab balls and coleslaw to go with the shrimp and potatoes. And I’m going to invite Liv to join us.”
His phone pinged again. ON.MY.WAY!
Liam nodded in agreement as he stepped out to help Riley from the vehicle. When he opened her door, he placed a light, lingering kiss on her lips.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what? I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“For communicating your feelings instead of withdrawing and getting all up in your head.” He grinned as he chucked her chin. “That’s growth, Riley B.”
She stuck her tongue out at him.
Twenty minutes and $100 in food that filled four bags later, the trio were turning the corner onto Rhode Island Avenue when they noticed the truck was still double parked directly in front of Liam’s building. It was an ice cream truck with colorful rainbows and unicorns painted above a laminated menu of offerings. An odd blend of tinkly music played from the oversized ice cream cone atop the truck: Christmas carols segued into children’s songs.
“What the hell?” Liam frowned.
Suddenly the passenger side door panel slid open; a tall, Korean-American woman whose face and features were a softened version of Liam’s slid gracefully from her seat. Behind her, a pale-complexioned man whose thinning, light-brown hair was pulled up in a man-bun peered myopically at the group through thick-lensed glasses.
The young woman walked to Liam, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Hello, big brother! We’re here to spend Thanksgiving with you. Don’t say no, or I’ll call mom,” she not-so-jokingly teased.
She stepped away from Liam and turned to Riley with a stiff smile and an extended hand. “And you must be Penelope!”
Tagging: @sirbeepsalot @jared2612 @ao719 @burnsoslow @bbrandy2002 @ofpixelsandscribbles @debramcg1106 @marietrinmimi @merridithsmiscellany-blog @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @zaffrenotes @liamxs-world @choiceslife @ac27dj @the-soot-sprite @gnatbrain @hopelessromanticmonie @amandablink @mom2000aggie @cmestrella @iaminlovewithtrr @liamrhysstalker2020 @queenrileyrose @ladyangel70 @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @charlotteg234 @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @jessiembruno @darley1101 @tessa-liam @phoenixrising308 @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @sincerelyella @foreverethereal123 @janezillow @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @jovialyouthmusic @21-wishes
In case you’re interested: @petitebohemie @karahalloway @delicialola16-blog
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DNP Rewatch: Halloween Baking - MONSTER POPS!
Date video was published: 10/31/2016 (X)
DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 326
Halloween baking time! Get ready for this to get way too long as usual for baking videos.
0:03 - no sliding-in intro for this baking video. Also the “horny” jumper and the ghost shirt are my favorites
0:21 - Phil is hilarious. look at those Dan eye-crinkles 🥺
0:33 - Phil repeating “festive” just to make sure we didn’t miss that “festive action” bit
0:40 - getting serious with the arms crossed
0:52 - “you just do you Phil, it doesn’t matter” hmmm...hello intro to post-baking Phil
1:10 - this whole intro is so messy and I’m pretty sure they’re just trying to make each other laugh and don’t even really care what they’re saying
1:19 - they’re not actually wrong 😂
1:22 - Dan’s hood down just for a brief moment. And Dan making this pun for once! Usually it’s Phil punning his own name...Phil “I like it”
1:35 - ummmm...Dan WHY with the nipple pinching 👀
1:41 - Phil is quite concerned about where this milk comes from...Dan is not helping 😳
2:02 - I’m pretty sure this video is when I actually learned what was in pumpkin spice (also great background dancing from Phil here)
2:23 - Phil did an exercise just for a pun, lol. They must have filmed this “for the coating” and “for the filling” clips (where Dan’s hood is down in both) separately from the list of ingredients
2:38 - Phil’s eyes get so wide the moment he realizes that Dan realizes the chocolate chips are open
2:53 - “stand in the hallway of shame” 😂 annnnd as soon as Phil is gone, Dan starts eating them too
3:02 - here’s where those other clips with Dan’s hood down were probably filmed
3:09 - Phil smiling at Dan’s dancing and with that full up-and-down look...then right into “do you think anyone’s sexually attracted to spiders” um, what’s on your mind there, Phil?! 👀
3:16 - pretty sure Dan is nearly as clumsy as Phil
3:30 - “straight into Barry the bowl” Dan is very concerned about this potential...”we’ll have fanfiction before we know it” and then Phil’s thinking too much about that too 😳
3:42 - Dan immediately going for the lick is somehow not surprising. Of course they felt the need to zoom in on this during editing...
3:46 - jesus christ. Phil’s reaction is great
3:52 - “the neighbors are going to call the police again” ...not sure I want to know
4:01 - Phil is laughing too much to scoop 😂
4:17 - Phil caving and letting Dan lick it of course...this is a lot
4:25 - Phil was about to put the licked spoon right back into the jar before he realized
4:30 - they’re worryingly concerned about using a can opener...how is it taking them so long to figure out. also, “teach me dad”
4:56 - Phil is definitely a person who freezes up when he doesn’t know what to do (not even going to comment on what Dan said...)
5:05 - Phil loves being a little shit sometimes and Dan just finds it endlessly amusing apparently
5:35 - Dan comes all the way back from walking away to lean in close and listen to Phil
5:40 - Dan’s answer worked too! Phil with the tongue-thing!
5:46 - Phil wanting Dan to smell things again
6:02 - Phil not knowing what a spatula is after this many baking videos somehow
6:09 - *bonk*
6:13 - this is shockingly far into a baking video without a close up shot
6:17 - “this is how professionals do it” parallels!
6:23 - Dan always wants to pour things on himself
6:39 - it really looks like Dan could fit that whole thing in this mouth 😳
7:02 - “give the people what they want” well that’s some II foreshadowing
7:04 - the close-up licking is too much for Phil 😂
7:12 - Phil is very concerned about Dan not having his hood up here...why
7:17 - “now I’m horny” love that Phil immediately does the back-up ‘beeps’
7:26 - Dan’s like...‘maybe not’, but Phil just goes with it
7:31 - ...and then he makes it worse 😂
8:11 - does Dan know how big a golf ball is?! that seems way too big
8:15 - yeah there’s the hindsight annotation, haha
8:37 - “yes we are adults” not so sure about that
8:48 - great use of the ‘record scratch’ noise. a bit too enthusiastic with the decorating there
9:07 - oh Phil, lol. Dan imitating Kath is always great
9:30 - does Dan think the morgue comes after the funeral...I don’t think that’s how it works
9:37 - “sweaty sand” wtf Phil
9:53 - "that is needing to get flagged” Dan can’t really talk after his noises earlier, but this is a lot for Phil
10:00 - I did not understand that reference. the multiple angles of Dan’s “ohhhhhh” though, fantastic
10:11 - how are they always on the same exact page?! help.
10:20 - Phil is just going for it in this video
10:34 - I love how impressed they both are with Phil’s sound effect
10:57 - that wasn’t even that funny but Phil thought it was
11:00 - this is the second joke of the video
11:23 - Phil with the PINOF reference and Dan zooming in to make sure we don’t miss it
11:30 - they have done this multiple times
11:43 - Dan doesn’t even flinch; he is too used to Phil’s antics
12:22 - what is wrong with them (affectionate). also unfortunate foreshadowing of the gas leak
12:33 - love this random reflection shot that Dan left in
12:56 - they never use a big enough bowl
13:03 - big Phil eyes
13:31 - “if it doesn’t, threaten to sue it” lol Dan
13:47 - they got that on the Japan trip! also, Dan can’t really blame Phil for it almost going in the chocolate...that was all on him
14:01 - took a couple seconds for Phil to process that one
14:45 - Dan’s commentary here... 😳
15:03 - Phil is not wrong
15:34 - they are not being gentle enough with the dipping
16:14 - lol at this important filming moment
16:31 - the start of this list from Phil is quite something...Dan is not helping
16:34 - yes, every time there is crotch filming...
16:51 - “I want your ass” did we need to know?! also the “ow” “thank” moment
17:09 - decorating is not their strong suit...
17:18 - king of comedy Phil
17:38 - it’s basically just sugar on a stick
18:03 - genuine compliments from Dan
18:19 - they’re just fully using their fingers to put the frosting on at this point
18:40 - “I want a hwhoosh” this is very early thinking about the quiff
18:42 - of course Dan has to do a shrek one
18:54 - hood back up after being briefly down again
19:20 - Dan really does go all-in for the baking videos
19:36 - I think these would be a lot less melty if they didn’t have them directly next to a candle...
20:21 - they have really made a huge mess of it at this point...also that is so much icing
20:49 - didn’t need to know 😳
20:56 - there is absolutely no way you can taste the coconut oil in that...
21:22 - “I’m delicious” this whole close-up at the end was probably not necessary
21:46 - I miss spooky week so much
22:06 - and DAPGO promo of course!
22:52 - “you got impaled by Dan” 😳😳
I love every baking video. This is definitely a top-tier one. And this was the video that ended the TATINOF era and ushered in the “post-baking universe,” according to Dan. Though they still had a few TATINOF shows to perform.
Earlier in October, they also won an award for the Radio 1 Teen Awards, where they did their usual sitting by the snacks (1, 2, 3).
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I posted 3,263 times in 2021
861 posts created (26%)
2402 posts reblogged (74%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 2.8 posts.
I added 2,869 tags in 2021
#danny phantom - 1689 posts
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#guardian spirit au - 90 posts
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Longest Tag: 139 characters
#and if i do i will get paranoid about how many hints i might have missed before this one and then never want to speak with you again out of
My Top Posts in 2021
so if Danny aged but Phantom didn't would that make him like the opposite version of Shazam
2375 notes • Posted 2021-11-19 07:19:23 GMT
so imagine if Dan escaped and Danny had to fight him again, but this time the general population of Amity Park saw, and clockwork didn't rewind anything
and yeah this is absolutely nothing new to this phandom but CONSIDER
what would literally everyone, ghost and human, think about this ghost who has the same logo as Danny telling him he's gonna become just like him one day and has a whole bunch of the same powers and they kinda look alike?
I guaran-goddamn-tee it they wouldn't be thinking 'oh that's evil Phantom from the future'
they'd be thinking 'oh shit Phantom's dad is a real asshole'
2823 notes • Posted 2021-10-06 23:28:40 GMT
it's fucjing. 2am but I just had a conversation with my sister and I need to talk about it
Danny's at college right, he's stuck sharing a dorm with some guy he doesn't know, and through some unfortunate timing the dude happens to walk in while Danny is in Phantom form
his dorm mate isn't from Amity Park tho, and all the ghost shit is sort of hush hushed by the GIW so this dude has no idea who Phantom is, at most he's maybe seen some youtube vids and thought he was some made up character
so he walks in on Danny wearing what he thinks is a costume and a wig and says
"oh shit are you doing like a cosplay tiktok? sorry dude, I'll come back later"
all it takes is for him to casually mention his dorm mate cosplaying some white haired superhero character in the vicinity of an Amity Parker and they're just like
DID YOU SAY FENTON IS COSPLAYING PHANTOM ON TIKTOK??
within the hour every single Amity Parker on campus is furiously searching for Danny's cosplay account, but all they can find is one where he geeks out over space news and shit
suddenly his new tiktok about a recent space shuttle expedition is bombarded with comments like
"drop your cosplay account"
"WHWRE'S YOUR COSPLAY ACCOUNT"
"omg Fenton where's your Phantom cosplay I neeeeed"
"WE KNOW ABOUT YOUR SECRET COSPLAY FENTURD NOW DROP THE LINK"
next minute he's getting texts from Sam, Tucker and even Jazz asking him why everyone's harassing them for his tiktok account Danny what did you do
3051 notes • Posted 2021-09-21 16:31:44 GMT
what if Danielle is just wandering around Amity Park in human form with Valerie, and Maddie or Jack happens to see her and they just do a hard double take like
who the fuck is this child
why the fuck does she look like Danny
why the fuck does she look exactly like Danny
like imagine that she's a little older and about Danny's height and they think it's Danny dressed as a girl and that is just, SUPER confusing and they go home and sit Danny down like 'sweetie if you want to start presenting as a girl again we will support you' and he's just like ????????????
3135 notes • Posted 2021-07-16 00:23:31 GMT
new favourite hobby, stitching dumb shit onto pretty fabric
24187 notes • Posted 2021-08-15 05:43:48 GMT
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
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Love the baby hcs for both vice dorm leaders and dorm leaders soo i might as well request the same concept for the 1st years if thats okay with you 💦
It’s A-Okay with me! Almost all of NRC is done now with all of these baby requests 🤣🤣🤣 to finish it up, I’ll just add Silver, Floyd, & Cater to this one!! (This is going to be a hefty one whew chile) Thank you for requesting and I hope this is to your liking!!
Cater shrieks when he sees your babyfied form, who did this to his poor s/o?! When the culprits are revealed to be the very duo that brought you to him, Cater can’t even bring himself to be shocked anymore
Cater surely isn’t prepared to take care of you, not in the slightest, but he does his damn best with some help along the way. But he sort of has a problem with trying to capture your every move, cooing and pressing the button on his phone to take dozens of photos of you. He just finds you too adorable!
When Cater’s magicam becomes inevitably filled with many photos and videos of you, his followers are confused. Cater has a kid??? When??? They knew nothing about this from the boy who normally keeps everyone updated on what’s going on in his life (for the most part)
Cater tries his best to feed you the proper things that a baby needs, he’ll spend hours on the internet looking up several different guides and watching videos. He wants to make sure he’s doing this right! It’s also only normal that he’d clone himself so that he can take care of many things at once like you, work, magicam posts, etc.
The Heartslabyul third year is very affectionate with you and he absolutely melts like a popsicle in the blazing sun when you return his affections. He’ll get sad if others get the same treatment though, he thought he was special (poor Cater LOL)
When you’re finally back to normal, Cater is relieved. Taking care of you was hard work but the fruits of his labor was sure worth it! He’ll share them with you, gushing about how you were so cute lol
When the accident happened in potions, Ace is horrified at your baby form. Deuce and him argue back and forth about whose fault it was before Crewel starts glaring. He doesn’t care whose fault it is, ONE of them had to take responsibility (they flipped a coin and Ace lost JDNSKDKSK)
There should be a sign slapped on his forehead that says ‘DON’T GIVE HIM CHILDREN’ because boy I wouldn’t trust my child with Ace if my life AND his life depended on it. He’s the worst person to give a baby tbh
Y’all know that meme with the girl doing a Kobe with a baby? Yeah, that would be Ace. He’ll bring you to basketball practice and forget about you, might even pick you up to use you as a basketball as a joke and then actually drop you (but he catches you!)
Has likely almost dropped you on your head multiple times, having you be officially labeled as that baby that was dropped smh. His safety skills are on a never moving scale of 0 to 10, his position always being 0.
Doesn’t have a clue what to give a baby and doesn’t feel assed to ask so he pretty much feeds you whatever he has on hand. Trey is extremely scared that you’ll grow a cavity and has since told Ace to let him know whenever you get hungry
Ace isn’t good with being affectionate, he thinks it totally isn’t cool but if it’s in private he may allow it. He’ll call you a cheeky kid and pinch your cheeks til they turn red like the bully he is. But don’t cry, he’ll give your cheek a kiss in apology!
The moment you’re back to normal, Ace is pulling your cheeks and cooing at you as if you’re still a baby. What happened to his little chubster? You were sooooo cute~
This dude is still a baby himself-
Deuce is also in horror when seeing the result of his and Ace’s accident during potions. He couldn’t believe you’d fallen victim to it…guilt is eating him up and he volunteers to take care of you until Crewel can figure out a way to change you back
Deuce doesn’t let you out of his sights for a moment, or at least he tries not to. His nerves have kicked into overdrive and he shits bricks whenever you do something even remotely dangerous. Because he’s on edge, his delinquent side also makes appearances more often, ready to crush anyone who dares to harm a hair on your precious head
Deuce would totally call his mom and ask for help, he can’t do this by himself after all! He’d be rambling about everything and eventually his mother would likely scold him and just try to coach him as best as she can over the phone
Affection isn’t his strong suit and he’ll blush if you nuzzle your nose against his but in the end, he’ll give you a warm smile. You’re just so cute, how could anybody resist that infectious laughter?
He gets you a chick onesie
Deuce is an apologetic mess when you finally get back to normal but imagine his surprise when you thank him instead. You could remember some parts of your time as a baby and all of them were full of Deuce doing his best to take care of you
The poor Savanaclaw first year is startled when ADeuce come crying to him with a little ball of stress in Deuce’s arms. He picks up your scent immediately and can only stare in shock as the two tell him about what happened during their potions class
At first, Jack is hesitant to take care of you. He’s afraid that he’ll hurt you just by holding you but he isn’t given much choice when the ADeuce combo just drops you into his arms. You’re the most precious thing in the world to him and he’s determined to protect you with all he’s got
You go EVERYWHERE with Jack, there isn’t a moment where you are by yourself. He doesn’t trust anyone to watch you even for a second, not even Ruggie (and certainly not Leona LMAO). He’s not too well verse on how to feed a baby but he’ll do some reading before serving you anything really, also using his own sense of smell to make sure that it’s okay for you to eat
If you’re bored, he’ll let you play with his tail, even if you yank it or try to put the fur in your mouth he’ll gently scold you and tell you not to do that. But if you continue anyways, then he’ll just sigh.
Jack’s often holding you in his arms so it’s not hard for you to reach up and squish his cheeks, or even press your cheeks together. His tail wags in delight at your affection but he won’t move a muscle, letting you do as you please.
You can FEEL his relief when you finally turn back, he’ll take a seat and just sit there. He’s so thankful that you’re finally back to your regular self, maybe now he can get a good night’s rest
ADeuce must have been turned down by everyone else if they’re handing you over to Floyd of all people. Both of them know that he’s not exactly the most trustworthy but you’re his s/o, wouldn’t he treat you more carefully?
Remember what I said about Ace being the worst? Yeah I LIED. This mf right here? He is the absolute, most positively, worst man to leave a baby in his care. You’re not seeing that baby again jk jk…maybe-?
Doesn’t know what to feed you, doesn’t care, matter of fact he wonders if he can feed you certain things before just shrugging his shoulders and giving it to you. If it weren’t for Jade finally stepping in, not because he cares but because he doesn’t need Floyd being charged with murder of an infant, you’d probably be dead within the hour
He holds you in a hazardous way whether it be by your arm or your leg, surprisingly you giggle so it only eggs the eel’s dangerous behavior on. He’ll even put you on his shoulder and let you hold on to his head (but he’ll keep his hands on you to make sure you don’t fall)
Floyd loves your little affections and he’ll return them tenfold. Be careful though! This eel loves to squeeze and if he gets too excited, he may forget his strength and just try to smother you with all the affection he has to offer
He’ll be sad when you’re back to normal, he missed seeing your tiny baby form. You were so cute and he could just squeeze you all day~
Another baby taking care of a baby smh
Epel has no idea how to react when he sees the baby you, his eyes just staring at you in Deuce’s arms. Why does stuff like this happen to him? Not that he’s often told to take care of babies but…you get the idea!!
The pomefiore first year tries his best to be gentle with you, it isn’t too hard and you weigh like, nothing anyways lol. He’s protective of you but he doesn’t keep you on a tight leash, allowing you to have your freedoms and whatnot
Applesauce. That’s all your diet consists of, applesauce. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks. It becomes such a nuisance to Vil that he has to step in and scold the boy, telling him that you can’t live off of just that. From then on, Vil makes a dietary plan for you and gives it to Epel, instructing him to follow everything he’s written on it
Epel struggles to be affectionate with you at first but once he warms up to you nuzzling his cheek every now and then, he won’t be as stiff. He’ll make apple carvings for you in return, chuckling every now and then as you try to eat the carvings
Nap time for you is probably his favorite time, he doesn’t have to be so fretful all the time nor does he have to worry about your cries. He may even take a nap with you if he’s that tuckered out from a long day of babysitting
Eventually, you turn back to normal and Epel will throw an internal party. He’s so happy to have you back as your normal self but he’ll totally say you owe him one lol
Silver is shocked when the ADeuce duo gives him a baby, wondering why the baby looked so familiar as well. Through all their rambling they somehow manage to finally get across that they made a mistake and now you are, well, a baby
Now y’all know this man has narcoleptic tendencies so why…you know what, it doesn’t even matter. He takes responsibility for you regardless of his sleepy disposition, saying that as a knight and as your s/o he’ll do his best to watch over you
The knight takes you pretty much everywhere, not really wanting to let you stray from his sight. Sure he gets weird looks but he hardly notices them since he’s so focused on you.
If Silver is ever lost on something, who better to ask than the very man that raised him? Lilia’s advice is for the most part helpful, but anything that has to do with cooking is instantly disregarded
Your feeding is mostly overseen by Malleus and Lilia, the faes do their best to help out where they can. In reality, it’s just Lilia suggesting many things he can cook and Malleus turning all of them down. If Silver manages to stay awake, he’ll give you something that he bought from the shop, hoping that it’s to your liking
Silver’s way of affection is holding you close while he sleeps, making sure that he isn’t crushing you and leaving you enough room to breathe and move around. He won’t even notice if you nuzzle his cheeks before taking a nap of your own lol
Once you finally get back to normal, Silver is pretty chill about it. You didn’t give him too much trouble and he’ll reminisce slightly about how cute you were but other than that, he’ll just say that he’s glad you’re you again
This man is screaming, crying, and shitting himself. What do you mean his s/o has been turned into a baby because of two idiots?! Sebek is scolding the shit out of Ace and Deuce, so loud that the entire Diasomnia dorm felt as if they were being yelled at as well
Sebek grabs you away from them and is immediately running to Lilia, reiterating what he was told and asking if the fae can help him out since he raised both Silver and Malleus. Lilia is overjoyed that Sebek asks for his help and immediately starts giving tips and pointers for caring for a child
Sebek follows everything Lilia tells him to a ‘T’. He’ll have you be the healthiest baby on the planet if he could, and he doesn’t stray at all, not even with those big doe eyes of yours. Nu uh, he ain’t falling for it…
Okay, maybe you can have a snack…and an extra nap…and play with his hair…but that’s it!!!! Sebek is an absolute sucker for your smile, he’d do anything to see it and if that meant giving you a crumb of leniency, than he’ll do it when no one is looking that is
He’s extremely protective, ready to yell, bark, shout, scream, etc at anyone who puts you in harms way. This is his s/o and he’s going to protect you with everything he’s got, I feel sorry for the other guys lmao
Affection? He doesn’t do well with it at all. He’s shouting: ‘Stop that human!!’ constantly but if you just continue he’ll have no other choice but to let it happen. The most he’ll return the affection is holding your tiny hand, admiring the softness that comes with it
Once you are finally back to normal, Sebek will tell you all about his heroic deeds that he did for you while you were a baby. Praise him a bit, okay? He worked hard <3
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Not-In-Love: Impolite Supposition
Description: You love your best friend, Taehyung. You love his husband Yoongi. You love his kid, Jimin. But Taehyung has a nasty habit of surprising you and trying to make you choke to death. Today is no different, while being altogether, entirely too different.
Tags: family au, yoongi x taehyung x reader?, hybrid au, Taegi x reader eventually, Kid!Bangtan, Kid Jimin
Fluff with some angst (because I was aiming for fluff so I got angst): 2,842
Author’s Note: This is for my @kerikaaria baby! For her birthday! It’s not what I originally planned for you, but I hope you like it all the same! Love you!
When asked how to describe your friend, the best word you could come up with was ‘choking’.
This tended to get you strange looks, because without context it was rather a scandalous descriptive word for your friend of the opposite gender.
However, it was what happened every time you met up with him.
He liked to spring things on you.
Like now, as you choked on your tea because he just ~appeared~ and practically yelled, “You’ve got to help me!”
In the following moments, as other people in the cafe sent concerned looks your way, and Taehyung pounded your back to help you stop choking (honestly making it worse), you tried to figure out two things: 1) how did he know where to find you, and 2) what could he have possibly gotten himself into this time.
“What did you do this time?” You asked, throat now even more sore than before. You got the tea to soothe your throat, not to choke on and make your throat worse. Now you didn’t dare take a sip because you knew he would choose that moment to drop his bombshells. “And how did Yoongi not stop you?”
“He doesn’t know! You’ve got to help me!” He tugged on your arm. “Please!”
“Help you with what?” You asked, tugging your arm back and putting your things in your bag. Looking forlornly at the cup of tea you didn’t dare finish with him around. What could he do without Yoongi knowing and stopping him? How bad was this about to get?
“Hurry, hurry, hurry,” He whined.
“No, now be quiet for two minutes,” You croaked, then once he huffed, you took a nice swig of your tea and sighed. “Okay. Where are we going?”
He tugged you along behind him, not saying a word, which was probably more terrifying than if he was talking constantly.
You were surprised when he led you to his and Yoongi’s apartment. “Tae?”
“I know. I know. Worst place I could hide them.”
“Hide…them? Who? Tae?” You followed after him more quickly, seeing that there was a…hastiness needed.
“It’s Jimin’s fault,” Taehyung said.
“What is Jimin’s fault? Also, how can you blame your son for anything? And who has your son? Please tell me he’s with Yoongi!” You winced as your voice cracked painfully.
“He is, he is! Yoongi took him to work,” Taehyung answered, still sounding a little panicked. “Yoongi’s going to murder me.”
“Too much legal trouble, he’ll just make your life a living hell,” You answered, following him into the apartment.
The teenage neighbor glanced up. “That was quick. You can just add it to my next babysitting fee,” She said. “They’re pretty easy.”
You stared at Taehyung, wondering who this “they” was.
Taehyung turned to you. “Don’t freak out.”
“Little late for that, don’t you think? Also, you’re the one freaking out, I’m just wondering if you’ve absolutely lost your marbles.”
Taehyung cleared his throat. “Thanks, Miji. I’ll make sure to get you next time.”
“No problem,” She said again, shrugging and leaving.
“They?” You hissed.
Taehyung gulped and lead you to the spare bedroom.
Three kids were playing quietly on the floor, and a smaller one was sleeping on the spare bed.
But they weren’t just any kids.
“I know! I know! But they were there and adorable and orphaned and the worker was like, ‘Hey! You’re a parent! We could give you a stipend for them!’ and you know I always wanted a lot of kids and yeah, we’re probably going to have to move so that we have room and it’s a lot of work for just us and I know you’ve been looking for an extra job and it’s not like we’re financially tapped out or anything and the youngest is actually human, we just couldn’t get him away from the other boys—”
“He’s human?! Tae!”
“Shhhh,” He shushed, pulling you out of the room as the boys looked over. “The authorities were there and everything and…it’s all above board. He’s orphaned too, and they know about Yoongi and I so it’s not a big deal, the only thing they said was we needed to have a place we fit in more comfortably within the next four months and that’s doable! Our lease is up next month anyway, and yours is up then too so I thought, hey,—”
“No, no, don’t try to play this off as you having thought about it! This is the kind of thing you discuss and talk about—especially with a spouse,” You hissed, hitting his arm. “I can’t save you from Yoongi! And how dare you have tried to blame Jimin!”
“But…Jimin always talks about wanting siblings!”
“Do you even know anything about taking care of hybrids?!”
“Some, but I do know that you know!” He grinned. “Which is why my plan is fool-proof!”
He was seriously smiling?
You poked your head back into the room.
The three that were awake were all looking at the door with slightly scared expressions.
You took a deep breath, then turned back to Taehyung. “Did you at least ask their names?”
You nodded. “And offer them food?”
You took a deep breath. “Oh, this is going to be a long day.”
“I should have done that.”
“Yeah.” You turned and went into the room fully. “Hey, little ones. Sorry for scaring you. I was very surprised. Are you hungry? We’ve definitely missed lunch.”
Two of them started shaking their heads no as the other emphatically nodded.
“I’m really hungry! Starving!” He folded his arms, but instead of defiant and pouty, it came across as a defensive and scared movement.
“Okay, why don’t we fix that? I’ll go make lunch, and I’ll call you guys when it’s ready. You don’t have to eat if you’re not hungry,” You added lightly, trying to keep your voice gentle but ending up a little raspy due to your throat’s condition.
The three hybrid children nodded carefully.
You nodded firmly and got up, dragging Taehyung to the kitchen. “You better call Yoongi. Right now.”
“Now?” He went to a cupboard and brought out the stash of throat-lozenges you kept there. “But….”
“Better he find out now, then when he comes home.”
“No,” You said quickly, shutting that down. “It’s your grand scheme.”
“Tae, I swear, if you don’t call him right now, then I’m walking out that door and leaving you to cook for those poor kids.”
Taehyung’s mouth snapped shut. “Calling him. Right.”
You shook your head and popped a lozenge in your mouth before turning back to making lunch for five kids and yourself. You kept it simple and Tae made you some honeyed tea to try and appease you while he waited for Yoongi to call him back.
“It’s like he knows there’s something I need to talk to him about,” Tae groaned, flopping onto the counter.
“He’s probably just busy at work,” You reasoned. “But yeah, you calling him usually sets off some red flags. Go tell the kids that lunch is ready. You’ll have to introduce me to them.”
“Oh, right. Okay.” He hurried off to the spare room.
You looked at the ceiling, finally able to process a little of Taehyung’s plan in silence. He wanted to adopt these kids, move into a house, and have you move in like…what? A live-in Nanny? To be fair, you were already Jimin’s nanny, but being nanny to one sweet little boy is different from being nanny to two human boys and three hybrid boys. Five. Five boys.
But…it couldn’t be that bad…right?
The proximity to Yoongi and Taehyung might be dangerous, but you would be there for the kids and your rent would definitely go down.
The proximity to Yoongi and Taehyung would definitely be an issue.
You loved them.
In all senses of the word and you’d only loved them more ever since Jimin was born.
How much more if they were raising four more sweet boys.
It was crazy. Adopting four kids without consulting a spouse was crazy, but it was such a Taehyung thing to do. He didn’t think about repercussions, he thought, “These kids have nowhere to go, they have no family, I have a place they can go and I can love them enough, I’ll take them.”
The front door rattled.
You tried to call out to Taehyung to warn him, but your voice came out a hoarse whisper of “Yoongi’s here” instead.
Jimin raced in, spotting you and brightening even more. “Y/n!”
“Hey,” You whispered, catching him in the hug he wanted. “How was your day?”
“So good!” He gushed, bouncing.
“Hey, y/n, what are you doing here? Did Tae call you?”
“Sort of,” You answered hoarsely.
“So, how bad is it? I figured I could just wait until I got home to talk to him. We were just down the street.” Yoongi strolled into the kitchen, then examined everything. “Wow, how’d you know we hadn’t had lunch yet?”
You stared at him, then down at the food.
You shook your head. “Tae!”
Yoongi looked confused.
Taehyung slowly appeared, poking his head out of the hallway. “Oh. Yoongi. Hi.”
“Daddy!” Jimin started toward him, but stopped. “Why are you hiding?”
“Yeah, Tae,” Yoongi agreed, eyes narrowed skeptically. “Why are you hiding?”
You cleared your throat, grabbing another lozenge. “I’m just…I’ll be in…the spare bedroom.”
“No, no, stay where you are,” Taehyung protested, desperate.
“Daddy’s being weird, Appa,” Jimin said decidedly, then skipped over to you.
Yoongi folded his arms. “Yes he is. Taehyung?”
Taehyung gave a nervous little laugh, then stepped fully out of the hallway, the smallest child in his arms. “They were orphaned and I couldn’t just let them go to one of those group homes—not when we could love them and we always said we wanted to have a house someday and Jimin’s always wanted siblings!”
Jimin was staring with his mouth open. “You got me a little brother?”
“Yeah!” Taehyung agreed, smiling, then catching Yoongi’s gaze and becoming more sober. “If…if Appa says it’s okay.”
“They?” Yoongi asked in a carefully dead tone of voice.
“Well, there’s Jungkook, this little one, he’s the youngest. Then there’s Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon….” Taehyung trailed off.
Yoongi’s eyes were huge and his mouth gaping.
“Those three might be older than Jimin, or the same age, I’m not sure, nobody is. But they were going to separate them and those three were so protective and caring for Jungkookie…how could I see them separated? And we always wanted to move into a house—”
“Someday!” Yoongi hissed. “Down the road. Probably when we didn’t need Y/n’s help watching Jimin, because we can hardly ask her to commute to care for Jimin.”
“But we could ask her to live with us! It wouldn’t be that hard to have her live with us, she practically does already, and she could help us look after the boys. She would do that, wouldn’t you, Y/n?”
You considered the condition of your voice and the looks both of them were giving before shrugging and sinking below the counter.
It was quiet for another moment or two.
“See what you’ve done? You’re scaring her off. Tae, why wouldn’t you talk to me about things like this before doing anything?” Yoongi continued in a quieter voice.
“She’s not scared off, she’s just avoiding being in the middle of our fight!”
“We’re not fighting!”
“Sounds like we are!”
You reached around and grabbed Jimin, putting a finger to your lips and gesturing for him to follow you.
Taehyung and Yoongi were in the emphatic phase of their disagreements, and didn’t see either of you crawl to the hallway. They didn’t even register you rescuing Jungkook from Taehyung’s arms.
The three hybrid boys were hiding under the bed of the spare bedroom.
You carefully closed the door, and locked it. “They’re just being dramatic, little ones. Don’t pay them any mind. You’re safe here. I brought biscuits to tide us over until we can go out there. This is Jimin. Jimin, this is Jungkook, Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon. Seokjin, Hoseok, and Namjoon are hybrids, Jimin. But that’s perfectly normal and fine. Okay?”
“Okay! Hi! Are you my new brothers?” Jimin asked, grinning at the three under the bed.
Jungkook let his head drop back on your shoulder.
The bold one from earlier crawled out from under the bed. “I don’t know.” He cautiously took one of the biscuits and nibbled on it.
You smiled as Jimin worked his charms and slowly got the other two out and eating biscuits as well.
The bold one was Seokjin, and you could tell he wasn’t so much bold as he was trying to put up a front and be brave for the others. You had no idea what kind of hybrid he was, though, only that his tail was tan with black on the end.
Namjoon had a short but very fluffy-looking grey tail and small ears that just barely poked out of his hair that were black and white.
Hoseok looked like he was a dog hybrid, quite possibly a golden retriever. Whatever he was, he was soon playing with Jimin while his ears and tail flopped after them.
Jungkook ended up in Jin’s small lap, eating a second biscuit, so you whispered to the boys that you were going to check on the argument and slipped out.
They were having a stare-down.
Taehyung was pouting.
Yoongi was glaring.
You sighed. “Yoongi, we both know you’ve already caved in, so why bother denying it? Taehyung, we both know he’s going to make your life hell for the next few days, so just give him some space to come to terms with it. Either of you do anything to those boys and you answer to me.”
“Y/n?” Yoongi said carefully.
“Taehyung,” you redirected. “What kind of hybrids are they?”
Taehyung hesitated. “They said they thought Namjoon was a badger and Hoseok was a golden retriever. Nearest they could find for Seokjin was a prairie dog?”
“Two exotics and a golden retriever walk into a shelter and no one thinks to ask who orphaned them? They aren’t going anywhere if all of this is legal. Not if I have anything to say about it—don’t interrupt me I’m running out of voice—because if these boys get put in the system then they’re going to end up separated and on the market. They put dog hybrids like Hoseok with exotics to help keep them calm. Like cheetah cubs in the zoo,” You finished, then sighed. Hopefully that would be sufficient.
Yoongi got quiet. “Still…with your plan, Tae, it requires Y/n being willing to nanny the kids and move with us. That’s making a lot of impolite supposition.”
Taehyung turned to you. “We used to talk about sharing a home. We could probably make it so you have your own suite, and…and…you would still only have to work the hours you work now! I can work from home part-time, like we’d discussed before, so that would also lighten your load. Please, y/n? You can even help us house-hunt, right hyung?”
Yoongi was staring at Tae for a moment, then turned to you. “We would appreciate it. And we can make up the financial difference. It would be a full-time job though. Even when we’re home, getting used to five kids after only having one…it’s going to be an adjustment. And I’m going to be busier than ever at work with this new project.”
“You got the project?” Tae gasped.
Yoongi nodded. “Jimin sort of clinched it for me. But it means I won’t be working from home at all until the project is finished.”
“Bad timing,” Tae whispered, but then got a determined look. “We can handle it. We can figure it out. Please, y/n? Say you’ll agree?”
You bit your lip, uncertain. It would mean even more exposure to them…but after seeing those kids…how could you say no? “There will be very strict terms to the agreement.”
“Of course, we can even get a lawyer to draft everything if you want,” Yoongi said.
“A lawyer?” Tae squeaked.
You waved a hand. “I appreciate that, but I think it’s something we can figure out on our own. It’s more like…ground rules. To be determined at a later date.”
“Okay.” Yoongi took a deep breath. “Now, we better go apologize to the kids for arguing and you better introduce me. They’re my kids now too, right?”
The tension finally left your shoulders.
There was never any true doubt that he would turn the kids away, but there was doubt about how long he would resist Taehyung on this matter.
Now…you just had to figure out how much you would be dealing with in the future….
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[CN] ASMR Transcript - Falling Rain (Kiro)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an ASMR, 落雨, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
The warm island in the downpour is the shared temperature between the both of you.
[ intense downpour noises ]
Come here quickly!
Are you cold?
There’s a set of clean clothes in the luggage.
The rain poured without warning.
I’ll never trust weather reports again.
Here, change into it quickly.
Your dresses are too thin.
We just got drenched,
So you need to wear something thicker.
[ Kiro’s cute “achoo” and sniff sniffs ]
I’m not cold.
I’m really not cold.
I sneezed because...
Heh. Because Miss Chips was thinking about me.
Change into it quickly.
I’ll turn around then.
I promise not to look.
[ heartbeat noises + rustling of clothes + Kiro’s breaths turning rapid ]
...are you done changing?
In that case, I’ll...
Your hands are so cold...
Your face is pretty cold too...
Come, lean over a little.
It’s all my fault.
I forgot to bring an umbrella.
Miss Chips and I ended up getting caught in the rain together.
But the rain here is mostly temporal.
It’d stop after a while.
I heard that there are many wild cats and magpies in this forested park.
If we’re lucky,
We might meet little squirrels.
You want to take photos with little squirrels?
Ah. The rain came down so suddenly.
We didn’t have the time to have a picture together.
We didn’t take many.
I only took...
Barely 50 in total.
If you don’t believe me, you can check for yourself.
Oh... the ones I took previously don’t count.
How’s that many?
The amount of space you occupy in my heart
Has the same proportion as the number of photos stored in my phone.
Ahh... this photo.
[clears throat] This doesn’t count as a photo I took in secret.
When Miss Chips was sleeping,
I took this photo openly.
You don’t look ugly in it.
Pursing your lips while sleeping is clearly very adorable.
I find that I took too few photos...
Every moment with Miss Chips -
I wish to document them all.
And keep them properly.
[ heartbeat noises + Kiro’s breaths speed up ]
The rain seems to be getting heavier.
I wonder what the little animals in the vicinity are doing right now.
They should be like Miss Chips, who is idling around over the weekend,
Eating, playing, and sleeping in their homes.
Huh? I’m not laughing at anything in particular.
I was just thinking about the exceptional resemblance between Miss Chips with her lips pursed while sleeping,
And a little squirrel with food stuffed in its cheeks.
Not just that.
The last time you were eating melon seeds while watching TV dramas at home,
I gave you a scare.
Back then, your eyes widened like saucers,
And you dropped the seeds in your hands.
Exactly the same as the little squirrel meme you often send to me.
Huh? I resemble little squirrels more when I’m holding a bag of chips?
All right then.
We’re both squirrels.
Did you know something?
Little squirrels will hide the pine cones they discover
In places where other animals can’t find.
This way, when it rains,
They can huddle in their warm homes,
Hug their precious object, listen to the sound of the rain,
And sleep in.
They don’t have to worry that other animals will brave the rain and snatch their food.
...just like us right now.
How’s it any different?
To little squirrels,
The pine cone in their arms is the most important thing.
They need to hug it tightly.
Sometimes, I’d want to be like a squirrel,
And hide the precious thing that I like the most
In a place that only I can find.
My Miss Pine Cone...
Can’t be seen by anyone else.
Hm... I’ve finally fulfilled this dream.
I must be the happiest big squirrel in the world.
Hm? Miss Chips’ pine cone?
It’s me, of course.
I’m the most delicious Big Pine Cone Kiro in the entire world. [chuckles]
If you don’t believe me,
[whispers] You could try giving it a bite.
[ kiss ]
How is it?
I didn’t lie to you, did I?
The Miss Pine Cone in my arms smells really good.
Her ears seem a little red.
Are you feeling a little warmer now?
Your face has flushed too.
Sure enough, sticking together for warmth is very effective.
In that case, let me hug you like this for a while longer.
I still want to hide you for a little longer.
if only this rain could last a little longer.
Before the downpour stops,
Every breath and expression from Miss Chips -
Belong only to me.
[ heartbeats + Kiro’s heavy breathing ]
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So uhhh are we going to get more gojo action? I’m going through withdrawals
hdfsakjdfks I don't have anything planned!!!! if I do post anything it will probably be on my @ponpoko account where I post my animu
but I will give you a snippet of one of my unfinished wips, as a treat:
Assignment meetings were an uncommon, but sometimes necessary affair, held early in the mornings at Jujutsu Tech. All faculty and non-student sorcerers met to pile their knowledge and recon together and sort through the mess of curses needing attended to— of which there were always far too many.
The only one who ever seemed to be in a jovial mood for the meeting was your lovely boyfriend, flitting around Nanami and Shoko like a child in need of constant stimulation. You were there too of course, but you were used to being thrown over for the others when these meetings went on. Especially Nanami. If there was anyone who Gojo actively sought out the friendship and approval of, it was that poor man. You knew first-hand what it was like to receive the one-track minded attention of Gojo, grateful for the reprieve only so that you could actually get some work done with the other first-grade sorcerers.
It wasn’t as if Gojo needed to focus on any recon work. He would take his usual dozen or more assignments and have the curses exorcised and dealt with before most of them got through their second one. Did the term “burnout” even exist in his vocabulary? You were worried for the day he’d find out.
With principal Masamichi taking center to go over the final details for the rest of the week, Gojo finally returned to lazily collapse into the seat in front of you. You’d long since made the rule he couldn’t sit next to you during assignment meetings as he had a very bad habit of letting his hands wander. PDA was all well and good, just not here when you were trying to be a respectable sorcerer and not just Gojo’s girlfriend. The very thought of that identifier made your face warm, threatening to flush at the memory of the last time you’d sat together. He’d leaned over half way through the briefing and kissed your neck at that meeting, the giggle that pulled from your lips drawing every single pair of eyes back to you.
You definitely didn’t want any repeats of that.
“Anything good?” He hummed over his shoulder at you while you looked over at the file in your hands. You’d taken on two first grade and five second-grade curse assignments. You’d have been more than happy to take on more first-grade curses, but Gojo had already laid claim to the bulk of them.
“A couple.” You muttered and closed the folder and lifted your gaze to look ahead. He had turned to face forward too now, making it difficult to not let your eyes linger long on the back of Gojo’s neck… so close and within reach now that he was seated. He was so tall, you hardly got a chance to run your fingers through the short strands at his nape, to kiss there the way he so easily bent down to do on you whenever it struck his fancy.
He had such a pretty neck. Pretty everything. Your eyes trailed across his shoulders, watching the muscle beneath his shirt shift with his slight movements. Thinking about the places where your lips had been, the trails you’d licked up his spine. The way his whole body would just go lax, Infinity dropping and leaving him vulnerable and weak and all yours when you rubbed that spot right where his neck connected to the base of his skull. He’d shiver, mumble moans of contentment and turn to absolute putty in your hands. The strongest sorcerer alive rendered to an incoherent puddle with just the touch of your fingertips.
His hair was so soft, especially there. Your nails pressed against the grain and scratched dully right at that spot that made him shudder. And he did, a tiny, nearly inaudible sound of surprise coming from him that morphed quickly into a groan of utter bliss.
And it was right about then that you realized you had reached out and all but buried your hand into the back of Gojo’s hair—
During a meeting.
With other sorcerers.
Sorcerers who were now turning behind them to find out why Gojo had made such a terribly obscene sound.
He leaned back into your touch, completely indifferent to any lingering eyes, but you were not indifferent. You wrenched your hand away and heard him give a sad little sound of disappointment at the loss of the touch.
He tilted around to look at you, a smirk on his lips as he mouthed one word.
He yawned then, loud and prolonged as he stretched. No one had seen your hand retreat away and looks ranged from bemusement to annoyance as attentions diverted away from him once more.
You prayed for a comet, a meteor, a natural fucking disaster— anything to end this meeting here and now. Your prayers however, went decidedly unanswered and instead you were forced to sit, cheeks burning and anticipation building for what might await you once it was over.
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TELL ME WHICH NBA PLAYER(S) LEWIS SHOULD DATE besides double doggie playdates with klay & rocco
OBVIOUSLY klay is #1 because of the double doggie dates alone like. actually i would find it hilarious if rocco & roscoe who seem like the chillest dogs ever, despised each other. constantly growling and trying to steal each other's expensive handmade 5 star dog meals. lewis does try to convince klay to have rocco go vegan. alternatively rocco & roscoe get along very well but lewis and klay have a ""polite"" rivalry because they think THEIR chunky ugly insta star dog is cuter than the other. but they fall in love via parent trapping methods.
#2 is demar but i need to warn everyone that this would ONLY be in a universe where kyle simply does not exist (which i shudder as i think about). but sryyyy there's no way he would not be with kyle if it was up to me so yeah. now of course the caveat here is that a kyle-less demar would be even MORE depressed than regular deebo which fucking kills me to think about but. maybe he would've won a championship with toronto? :( and lewis comes to that overseas game they have and idk they meet and talk about their tattoos and demar would think lewis is s o pretty and out of his league. anyway they spend the night together maybe have the best s*x of their lives and don't see each other again for months and don't try to contact each other bc they're the Worst but do post very cryptic instagram stories in the meantime. before finally meeting up in LA of course. demar hates roscoe.
#3 is russ but in like girl best friend who i hook up with for fun no strings attached cute dates cute fashion shoots. russ is helping lewis gain some confidence to go tits out more <3
#4 kevin love because lewis loves just some white guys. no comment. they can talk about therapy
#5 lebron for capricorn power couple reasons but it would never work
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So I just discovered your Ginger Erasure post and I am intrigued. I write fanfic, stories that do have Poison Ivy and Natasha Romanoff. I also have a ginger OC. I am determined to right my wrongs of merely thinking of it as a pretty hair color and make their red hair a part of them as characters. I want to represent them properly.
With this in mind, I would love to know how I can do this. You mentioned sun burning easily, splotchy faces when ginger's get emotional, bullying, and I've read stuff about a lower pain tolerance due to genetics. Are there other things I should write with in mind? Any good resources? How emotional and what kinds of emotions lead to red faces? What steps do you as a ginger take daily to prevent sunburns? What parts of ginger daily life are unique to them?
First off, thank you for tagging the original essay I wrote so I don't have to, but I'll summarize the thesis here for people who don't want to read it:
My theory is the reason a lot of redheads are being cast as POC is because the liminal spaces redheads have historically been assigned are now being shifted to people of other ethnicities. This is a nuanced subject.
Now, onto your inquiry.
Poison Ivy and Natasha Romanoff are classic redheads, in that they are ginger because they are dangerous femme fatales. It is really interesting to think about how these two women would realistically live as gingers, Natasha especially.
Natasha is a spy, where being discreet is often a necessity. As such, I'd assume she'd dye her hair some sort of brunette unless she wanted to attract attention. And redheads do attract attention, even if they aren't attractive.
For example, I bet you'd notice if, in a room of people, two or three redheads were talking together. That's not weird if any other hair color does this, but for some reason the brain knows seeing more than one ginger at a time is odd. I speak from personal experience: sometimes when I'm talking with another ginger, and definitely when there's more than two of us, someone non-ginger will comment on it.
Most groups of friends only have one ginger, and they are known as the redhead of the group. If you need to find a friend in a crowd, you look for the ginger with them.
As for other physical traits of being a redhead:
Gingerness is a mutation of a gene (MC1R), and a person could have more or less of it. More of the gene= redder hair, lighter skin, freckles. Less = darker hair, darker skin, less to no freckles. Natasha could have less of the gene. I think she could also learn to control her emotions so the blotchiness doesn't show when she's feeling ANY strong emotion (there's no specific one, it's all of them for me).
However, the blotchiness also comes into play when a ginger is doing physical activity as well, or there's a cold wind. Basically, redness in the face is a constant, so I'd guess she'd have a special make-up routine (you'll have to ask another ginger about make-up, though I think there are some ginger-specific make-up artists online).
Gingers burn EVERYWHERE, even when it's not hot out, after a short length of time. I remember having to put sunscreen on my hair part as a kid because my scalp burned as well. And obviously, most gingers don't tan: we burn, then freckle. I don't have freckles on my face, but I do over the rest of my body, especially the arms. This obviously varies depending on the person.
Now for the emotional/daily life aspects.
I'd guess 90% of redheads have been bullied for their hair. It's easy and it's odd, and kids are cruel. There's also a sense of seclusion in being a ginger: oftentimes, they are the only redhead in their family. I didn't meet another redhead until I was 8 years old. Many redheads hate their hair because of the way it singles them out for bullying, and dye it to avoid the "spotlight."
Here are some things I notice in my everyday life as a redhead. I'm interested in knowing if anyone else has had this experience.
*People assume I'm a passionate or angry person. Complete strangers will ask me about this.
*Strangers will ask me if my hair is natural.
*When I say yes, this is often followed up by asking me about where I "got it from."
*People with redheaded relatives what to tell me about them.
*I feel a kinship with people with red hair, or parents with redheaded children.
Thankfully, no one has ever tried or asked to touch my hair, but my hair is also straight. I can't speak for curly-haired gingers.
Every time I have an interaction with a person about my hair, I'm reminded that having red hair is not normal. It's an odd way to live.
In writing a redhead, I don't think things like sun screen routines need to be addressed unless it's important to the person's character. (And I'm not sure on the validity of the pain tolerance thing.) What I would keep in mind though, is the sense of otherness. We aren't a marginalized group, but we're slightly out-of-faze with the rest of society. We grow up with an obvious difference to most people around us, and that leaves a mark, big or small. Some of us lean into being a ginger, make it part of our identity, while others try to leave it behind.
That otherness, and the inability to blend in, are the two things I think are most pertinent and character-relevant when writing redheads. (That is, unless you're writing a very close coming-of-age or slice-of-life story, in which the freckles and sunburn and bullying could all be included.)
This has been very long, I hope this helps. If not, I'm happy to answer follow up questions. Thank you for the ask! It was thoughtful and thought provoking.
Here's a video of a redhead dying their hair as an experiment. She has a lot of the same experiences that I and a lot of other gingers do, I think. There's a lot of ginger youtubers who talk about their experiences.
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