#last time I had colored pencils in my hand was like 12? years ago

[your-favourite-plague]

I admired Disco Elysium fandom from afar for some time now, but I was too intimidated by its quality to post anything. But while doing random scribbles I've got carried away, ended up with this, and I think it's kinda ok???

#I'm stepping out of my comfort zone in at least four different ways with this one #last time I had colored pencils in my hand was like 12? years ago #so idk what I'm doing I just bought a cheap set to try something new #but i had fun drawing it and that's all that matters #disco elysium #harry du bois

[writtonio-rosher]

•••DROWNED BY MEMORIES•••

Herman Balsa/Alva Lorenz

Fandom: Identity V

First published in AO3 on the date 2022-12-29

Alva holds a glass of water in his left hand, because the idea of doing this with his head atrophied by alcohol hurts him. In his right hand is a pencil, and on his desk are a couple of papers.

At first, when it was still afternoon, he had tried to continue developing the formula, solving for integrals and deriving others, seeking an approximate result for what he needed, but as the hours passed and his progress seemed too small, he embraced the night closing the notebook full of numbers, to then take possession of another, with a worn appearance like almost all his work-related belongings, what differentiated it was that this was not a work notebook, it was one full of letters that narrated Alva’s sadnesses...

It was a gloomy dinner, since his intake varied between ellipses and sad letters, devouring each of the sentences dedicated to a single name, that of the man who two years ago had hidden from the albino's eyes. He reread them until tears bled from his eyes, soaking the paper, which, resistant, was standing those torrential rains again. The crying was muffled when his throat was tired from sighing, and his eyes were too irritated to continue crying.

Alva never assumed the lies were true, it was no secret that he missed him; however, on those dates so far from the first day that Herman left, it was already rare for him to relive the old memories of a sweet romance. This of all the sleepless nights he had dedicated to his memory was special because now more than before he had reasons to suffer. There was a reason why he had just remembered his cheekbones again, his chin, the soft wood-colored hair that decorated his head, and those deep green eyes.

The morning headlines would not go unnoticed by the cultured men of science, who would fix their eyes on the announcement that a great scientist was visiting the city. That scientist was Herman Balsa. Although the news was discussed at breakfast that Alva had with his co-workers, he downplayed it or at least pretended not to give it relevance at the time. He wouldn't deny the shame he felt when he asked for him at the hotel where he was rumored to be staying, nor would he deny that he felt guilty when the rumors were confirmed, and he asked for the room's phone number. He had already broken every promise he made to himself when he decided that life would go on, even if it had to go on without him.

Returning to the present, we can see Alva tired, lying on the surface of the desk, with the pencil still between his fingers, after having tried to compose new verses to dedicate to the clash of emotions he was feeling. What was it? Disappointment? Happiness? Maybe just a horrible mess of multiple feelings mixed up in the worst way, an emotional Frankenstein monster in his being, struggling to get out, screaming, breaking everything down, and crying. Perhaps that was his reaction to all this because Herman never bothered to explain, the story was vast, but it was easily summed up in multiple missed calls, both from Alva and from other Zeeman acquaintances.

“Ha ha ha, Zeeman,” he thought aloud as he stared at the phone. “Did you get married, Herman?”, “In the headlines, it was clearly read that your last name is “Balsa”…” he muttered to the air as if he were really going to hear him.

He really had been willing to dial the number given by the receptionist, perhaps demand an explanation or just cry into the microphone of his cell phone while Herman awkwardly had no choice but to listen.

“ You don't know how happy it makes me settle for the fact that that last day with you was one before you left here, I can presume that your last moments before returning were not spent with anyone other than me. I can presume that the one who has the freshest memories of the appearance of your face, of your body, is me. I don't even care that I don't have someone to show it off to. Furthermore, I am the owner of the most wonderful memories that almost any being will be able to live by your side because I know as far as I can that I have loved you more than anyone could. Not only that, but I even fell in love with your defects, and I dare say that just thinking about each of those negative things about you, I still sigh, I'm afraid to say it, but I can't deny that to date I love those details of you, that in the eyes the rest would make you look mean.”

He paused, and sat up in the chair, his body, anesthetized for a while, brought the edge of the glass to the corner of his lips to drink water. A bitter drink, it really looked like water, although two glasses ago he had forgotten that it was mezcal, a good quiote distillate.

“Although you also don't know how miserable it makes me feel, just tell me, what am I, Herman? What the hell am I if not your slave? Poor idiot me, who still dedicates his best days to you, who can't move on and get a real life, because he's still chained to you and your selfish desires, leaving my life's work for your whims and aspirations… Still, what am I doing, trying to claim to you? If I was the one who condemned myself to such a miserable fate by deciding not to say goodbye to your memory…“ Looking into space, the well-kept words flowed out of him fluently, because after being stored for so long, what emotions most wanted was to get out of Alva and explode like grenades, bombarding the now nonexistent silence of the room.

“I swear to have dedicated myself before to delete you, when half a year passed and nobody knew anything, I decided that I had to continue, got rid of your number and some photos, but tell me, what made you believe that I would not miss you or that you would not hurt me? If I was so used to you, that when you left for God knows where, you removed a piece of me… I didn't get rid of all your photos, I didn't get rid of any of your belongings. I even continue with the tradition of spending Christmas with your family, they have not stopped inviting me, and your mother does not stop comparing me with the many ex-girlfriends of yours that she did not like, saying the good choice you had with me because even with your absence she appreciates me. ”

“Loneliness has played havoc with me because it has made me realize that the one I was closest to was you, even so at the end of the day we both seemed distanced from each other, I had never had such a strong bond, and from your words, what Now I don't know if they were true, I doubt you would have had such a close connection before… It's selfish for me to see things like this, but can I be blamed? My life has been so colorless since then, I would swear that the saturation of the colors that I see in my day to day has decreased since your absence marked my life, because no color makes sense if you are not there to appreciate it with me… Is it dependency? Everything I say sounds bad, it sounds very bad. It's not really like that, really, it's just a way my desperation is making it look like, I swear. I swear that I don't need you so much, that I don't depend on you as it seems that I do, even if I miss you, I always kept a certain degree of independence, it only hurts me that you were not here to share the news of my life and that I wasn't there to share the news of yours…”

One more drink and his throat released another sigh, it was dry thanks to the alcohol in his system. He dropped the pencil, a growing weakness beginning to creep up his legs into his arms, and finally his head, the tears growing and pooling in his eye sockets, falling as the liquid pooled, down, and pooled on his clothes. “You should have told me if you were bored, or if you needed to leave to progress academically… you should have told me, it's not like we don't care about you, your mother… I haven't seen her, but she must be as impressed as me, or even worse… you should call her and make her know you're okay… do you hear me? Herman, are you hearing me? “ The question filled a room empty except for Alva and the objects that surrounded him. “I hope you listen to me and my words reach you as much as the fact that you left reached us…”

“Going back to my initial question… Did you get married? Should I forget what we were? Please let me know about those things because I still hadn't gotten used to the idea of turning the page… it's a shame because I thought that in the book of my life I would be able to write a dedication to you at the end…”

But that characteristic sound of a telephone interrupted him.

Beep…

Beep…

Beep…

Herman had just hung up the phone.

#Halva #Hermalva #Herman Balsa #Alva Lorenz #identity v #identity v fanfic #angst #im sorry #im so gay #lentejas #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #Spotify #Drowned by memories #Herman Zeeman

[burnedbyshoto]

good little omega

— He was an alpha, you were an omega. Can I make it anymore obvious? He was a crime boss and you were a movie star. What more can I say? Oh, he wanted you, really wanted you, but you swore you would never, ever need an alpha.

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pairing: alpha!shigaraki tomura x omega fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut, abo/omegaverse, chad alpha!shiggy, virgin celeb!reader, kidnapping, drugging, sex slave auction, biting/marking, belly bulge, knotting, sex toys, heat, implied murder (lol rip shigsters last omegas), mind break, breeding, degradation, finger fucking, fucking in front of a crowd, modern world!au

word count: 6,174

a/n: this goes out to my shiggy stans. I never understood you until recently and now I blush like a schoolgirl when I see him. mondays are so busy, are they not? ive been home for 6 hours today wtf????

kinktober day 12 main kink: abo/omegaverse | kinktober masterlist

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You sat before the mirror, your eyes intently staring at your reflection. The people around you running around, chaotically bringing brushes and pencils to your face, the smell of chemicals in the air, tickling your overly sensitive nose. 

“Are we ready?! Is Y/n ready?! I don’t think she’s ready?! We need to be out of here in five minutes, people, let’s hurry it up!”

Breaking your gaze from your reflection onto your agent in the background, you sighed softly at the growing sour and distressed omega pheromones. Oh, you realized suddenly, your nose unable to keep from scrunching at the mildewy detergent scent, they were really stressed out.

Today was the night of the biggest award show one could attend as a movie star celebrity in Japan. The Motion Picture Awards gave only the most prestigious and prodigious actors and actresses their due. A night of fashion, alcohol, and nervous pheromone pumping alphas and betas in a single room to reveal who was the best this year. Working in an industry such as your own, you had become quite the living legend already at the mere age of twenty-two.

As an omega, you grew up in a society that banned you from enlisting or attempting to join the ranks of the best in just about every field of focus or study. So that even included the area of acting. Casting Directors had always said the same thing each and every time you were forced to present your secondary gender to them all when being called back for auditions.

‘Omegas can’t be movie stars, your heats are too often and too long, they cause rifts in filming schedules this project cannot afford.’

‘We have too many prime alphas on set. Our film's projected main character is an alpha, we wouldn’t want to be caught up in a lawsuit should she find you to be too… fertile.’

‘Omegas can only be good, suitable nurtures and well, mothers. This movie just seems a bit too intense for a little omega like you!’

Omegas can’t do this, omegas can’t do that. Alphas, the pride of society, couldn’t be made to hold themselves back to your alluring scent and occasional heats. Betas, the majority of the population, didn’t feel a challenge when working alongside omegas. Omegas? Well, if there were any that actually existed within the film industry, they were for sure never heard from, or seen of.

At the age of eighteen, you had nearly given up on your long aspiring desire to become the first omega actor or actress to ever grace the scene. But just as you were ready to tell your agent that you were tired of all of the same, repetitive bullshit, a gentle alpha had approached you with an exciting role in mind for you.

Movies and cinematic films had always showcased omegas as sweet, nurturing individuals. For the most part, you agreed that that’s how you omegas were. You enjoyed hugging your close friends, scenting them softly as means of a small pack you had created as none of you were mated this young, yet didn’t ever wish to be bothered by self-righteous alphas or betas. Through many, many biology courses revolving around your secondary gender, you knew that the hormones that made you an omega also affected the brain to accept and view things in a… softer light. But unlike what they taught in school, and unlike what the alphas in society knew about omegas as they could never honestly watch an omega in heat while alone, was that omegas weren’t always the most nurturing or kind.

The week before your heat, the week of, and the week following your heat, you were always irritable, angry, almost cold. You’d flash your small fangs at anyone who dared to approach you with a scent you hated, your heat room never once escaping with everything torn to shreds, and you definitely did not wish to seek any fiber of soft love.

So when the alpha male sat in front of you, a single fang poking out of his lip as he exposed his neck in a motion of vulnerability and conceding to you — the omega — you knew he was serious.

He explained to you his plan on creating a more realistic movie surrounding the brutal truths of what being a single omega was like. Films had, after all, had always depicted omegas as being mated the moment they presented and going as far as saying that there were others means to be coupled to other alphas without actually being marked. It was atrociously wrong of the omega lifestyle, and it always made your stomach curl to see that it was an alpha or a beta actor putting on the role.

But he wanted to focus on the realities. The anger, sadness, and horrors you could face as a single, unmated omega. The director raved that you were the face for that movie and had a soul that made him come seek you out. And without so much as consultation from your agent, you agreed on the spot.

The title of the film had been an ironic one. Good Little Omega was what it was called in the end.

All in all, the movie had done poorly in the eyes of the critics. Many individuals — namely alphas and betas — claimed that the depiction of omegas within the film had been horribly wrong. Omegas were never sad, never homeless, never abandoned by society! That’s what they had all cried the moment the trailer flashed with bright letters:

AND INTRODUCING: Y/L/N Y/N (Ω)

Still, the movie made billions as many went to watch it because they ‘needed to see how horrible the movie was.’ They wanted proof that omegas weren’t cut as movie stars because how could someone who was out of commission for a week every two months be proactive on set. But all they got was a cinematic masterpiece.

You had taken a claim in the industry, one while small, that hadn’t hurt that much because you were much more focused on the fact that you now were a household name. Well, that is until you were nominated for the awards ceremony you were currently about to attend, only that it was the one from four years ago.

You were the first omega actress and now the first omega nominee. You hadn’t won, but that had solidified the step you had in the door. After that, the interests to hire you in omega roles came pouring through the door.

But you were brought back to reality when the setting spray splashed against your face, your eyes fluttering when they covered your scent glands with the flesh-colored band-aids they got for you. Alphas could never complain about you being a distraction if you smelled the same as betas. 

Rising to your feet, you smiled graciously to your makeup and styling team, thanking them profusely as your agent placed her hand at the small of your back and began pushing you towards the exit.

“Goodluck!”

“Thank you!”

.

..

.

Shigaraki glared down the table of averted eyes, and his hands brought up under his chin twitched at his annoyance.

“Are you going to say anything, or are we going to remain silent?” he asked, his voice quiet yet heavy in all of their ears as they flinched. “Don’t think you’re going to get away without giving me an answer.”

The sour smell of fearful alphas should have corroded Shigaraki’s nose. It should have done something to unsettle the way that the young head sat on his black leather seat. But as a matter of fact, the young alpha had to resist the way he wanted to bare his teeth in a bloodied smile, his red eyes slit in his cruel lust for fear.

“O-Of course not, a-alpha!” croaked one of the smaller alphas down the table. Shigaraki snapped his eyes towards the yellow-haired croony, his neck exposed for the alpha, eyes refusing to look at his leader. “I-It’s just that, um, I — I mean, we don't know w-what happened to your mate!”

“I thought I gave clear and distinct instructions that you were supposed to have found them by this meeting,” Shigaraki stated, his voice somehow growing colder, meaner yet never once changing as his hands dropped from his chin to rest on the arms of his chair. He tilted his head, watching the pathetic alphas quiver like some scared, stupid omega. “Useless. Get out of here before I change my mind on killing you all where you sit.”

The crowd of alphas left quicker than Shigaraki could blink, leaving behind the reeking smell of scared alpha pheromones. 

“Tomura-kun, you killed your mate,” came the singsong giggle from behind him, and Shigaraki didn’t bother turning around, his nose and ears sharp enough to pick up exactly it was behind him. 

“They’re all a bunch of pissy lackeys,” Shigaraki simply stated, his eyes rolling as he slowly fell to the back of his chair, red eyes meeting golden ones that shone with mirth and joy. “What do you want, Toga?”

Toga leaned against the leather armrest, uncaring that Shigaraki hated his personal space invaded. The young female was an alpha, much like most of the people within this gang group, but unlike the others, she had a distinct, almost terrifying way to change the way she smelled. She could smell like anyone or any secondary gender. She often preferred to smell like an omega too. 

“We have a guest visiting us today!” Toga chirped, her fingers clasping together. “I wanted to introduce him!”

“Bring Giran in,” Shigaraki snapped, his eyes narrowing with no real malice for the alpha next to him who simply pouted at the surprise — not a surprise — being ruined. Giran reeked of cigarettes and cheap body sprays that, when wafted with his distinct omega pheromones, made Shigaraki want to throw up. “Hurry up.”

“UGH!”

Shigaraki’s mouth was set in a firm line, his eyes watching as one of his most trusted allies walked to the table, and taking a seat in the abandoned chairs as Toga purred in happiness, sitting on the armchair of Giran’s chair, arms enveloping him. 

“Shigaraki, how are you doing?” Giran smiled, the cigarette that seemed to take a permanent residence in his teeth moving with his words. “I came bearing some great news.”

“What do you have for me?” Shigaraki simply states, his eyes focusing on the letter that is unpocketed from Giran’s pockets and placed onto the table. “Don’t tell me you’re trying to sell me your omega niece again.”

Giran chuckled, looking at Toga, who was smirking softly, “I guess he still hates that joke, huh?”

“Absolutely livid!” Toga laughed.

Shigaraki growled, his mind and his inner alpha snarling at the lack of respect to the command of his question. He outranked them, outpowered them; they needed to respect his orders. 

Giran took a deep inhale of his cigarette, sliding the card over to Shigaraki, his eyes averted, but his stance still firm. “I know you go through omegas faster than a teenage boy goes through a pack of tissues, but I think this can answer the pleas you have at night.”

Observing the card in his hand, Shigaraki scowls, unsure of how to feel about the print on the invitation. 

“Say the word, and I’ll get you a seat,” Giran whispers, like a sinister god begging a mere mortal to sign over their life for something completely worthless. But Shigaraki knows his worth, and more importantly, he knows in this game he outranks Giran, who would never betray him. In the slightest. He huffs, his back hunched, and his eyes looking with subdued excitement. 

“Who else is showing up?”

Giran knows the seat will be wanted that instant.

“No one who could hold a candle to you, alpha.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“Of course not, my liege.”

.

..

.

The award sitting in your hand feels almost fake as if the entire night was nothing more than a heat-driven fever dream. You had won, had actually won the most significant award of the night that an actress could win!

“Oh my gods, okay, okay,” your agent muttered beside you. Her eyes glued to the shiny gold statue between your legs. “Well, I know your heat starts tomorrow, and I’ll leave you alone for a week. But I swear, y/n, as soon as your mind isn’t a full-blown lusty heat brained bimbo, we’ll reconvene, and we will make sure you are nothing but the greatest!”

“Yeah,” you breathlessly state, eyes transfixed on the prize that felt like it could melt away any second right now. “That sounds wonderful.”

The car you were in pulled up to your front door, and you felt meek excited the car in nothing but a silk robe and slippers. The dress you had worn that night had already been put back into a plastic bag to be returned to the stylist who had offered to style you for the night. You waved with an almost transfixed look in your eyes as you closed your front door behind you, your heart hammering as adrenaline still coursed through your veins as if you had just been declared the victor of the category yet again.

Placing the trophy onto the table, you sighed in a wondrous, dreamy way.

You had done it.

You had won.

Fuck all those directors who had ever said anything different.

Still deep in your thoughts, you almost missed the knock on your door, and you figured that you must have left something in the car. Walking back over to the front door, your nose curled at the lack of scent, was it a beta?

Opening the door, you don’t remember seeing faces or even a scent of a pheromone. A single cloth wrapped over your head, and before you could send out your painful, fearful moments-from-heat omega pheromones, you were knocked out.

Cold and lifeless, you sunk against their arms, bile rising up to your throat as you know exactly what was going on. You were being kidnapped. 

No… please not… not after all of this had happened.

.

..

.

You wake up to the sound of moving feet, sneering laughter, the feeling of coarse, hot, hands on your ass and wet, simmering tongues on your lubricated cunt. The sense is vivid. You can feel the very littlest touch on your body, the layer of scented pheromones on your glands, and slick from alphas — you know it's alphas imprinting themselves on you as a mark of a claim.

You knew about this from high school; it was an extremely outdated and frowned upon version of mating and claiming as it simply turned away any sort of pursuer who wasn’t the thick pheromone individual. You also knew it was frowned upon because if multiple individuals sought mateship with the typical omega individual, it would result in a massive, unsolvable death match. But these alphas, even with layering their scent on you so thick you thought you were turning crazy, didn’t attack. No, they took languid stripes of your fresh, intoxicating slick and growled to you, maybe, how that was how slick was supposed to be. 

You wanted to move, to kick the stupid, demeaning alphas in the snout before running away, but in a twist of horrible realization, you soon figured out that despite your alert mind, you couldn’t move your body. Couldn’t shift it even the smallest of bits. 

“I hope all you wonderful clients have been able to taste and smell your potential mates out here!” A loud, commanding introduction voice echoed from somewhere where you couldn’t see, his voice vibrating into the straps of your legs, but you couldn’t make a sound or even open your eyes. “As you know, we have such an arrangement for you all, the best of the best, really! We don’t wish to rush, but as always, all of these events are incredibly time-sensitive, so if you would, please alphas, please come and sit down, and we’ll begin bidding on our first of seven beautiful, fertile omegas tonight!” 

The words sounded foreign in your ears yet at the same time, something so familiar because this was something you omegas were always warned about. This had to be some sort of omega mate auction, and by the stench of alphas who smelled like they owned millions and killed millions, you were in no doubt somehow caught up in one of the worst ones imagined. 

Two long, completely hardened fingers suddenly entered your cunt, and as if for a single millisecond, your mind and your body were able to work in tangent, your hips bucked at the sweet feelings. Oh, your eyes tried to flutter, enjoying the way the two fingers circled the walls of your long lonely cunt.

“Please, alpha, please refrain from touching the merchandise for now, please join us so that we may begin!”

The two fingers buried within your cunt as if it was their right, slowly withdrew out of your pulsing walls, and you heard the sound of sneakers against the hardwood floor and felt relaxed and sickened at how you sort of liked it.

Heat brain, you reminded yourself. Just your stupid, horny heat brain.

You were a celebrity, you mantra, a dignified star who didn’t need a beta or an alpha unless you saw it fit. Right now, as you had repeated many times to the countless amounts of reporters who had asked, you had no interest in someone to share your heat with.

“Alright, and to start off our night in a rolling go! Please, everyone put your hands together for the fertile and beautiful thirteenth in-line the Princess of Cabodia: Dayanara!”

This auction was insane, all six omegas before you all sold from a price that ranged from 198 hundred million to the one right before you who sold for one billion dollars. You were a prideful omega, and you saw worth to your abilities, smell, and looks, but were you even worth anywhere in that range?

The entire time you had been set up in who knows what, the small, overwhelming pound of your heat sinking into the depths and pores of your body was becoming heavy. You couldn’t move a single muscle still, your body still refusing to respond to the call of your body, but the seep of your slick running down the innards of your thighs, undoubtedly beginning to pool on the ground, must be embarrassing of you. 

Suddenly someone spread the skin below your ass out, and you couldn’t react as something sharp and prick stabbed into your flesh. You howled in the surprising pain, and you were fast to find that whatever they had injected you with had allowed systematic movement within your body. Your eyes fluttered open as two, impossibly huge alphas grabbed you by your forearm and hoisted you to your feet. 

Your neck was far too weak to carry the weight of your head, so your eyes were transfixed on the white silk of the slutty dress they dressed you in. It showed off your cleavage with no regret, and by the feel and look of it, it barely passed the bottom of your ass. Your vision swam, the alphas all over the room distorted and melting within one another as you stepped onto a stage, the spotlight on you feeling deliriously hot and melting your skin.

Your hormones, already going crazy with your heat, seemed to intensify at the small of so many capable, potent, possessive alpha pheromones that suffocated the room. Handcuffs slapped onto your wrists, and you moaned pathetically at the sting of cold metal on your skin, and you obediently followed the command of one alpha to go on your knees. 

A nail slammed between the metal links of the handcuffs, practically stapling you to the wooden floor, and you whimpered at the feeling of a stuffed pillow mount being placed beneath your lower stomach. You were in a forced and easily accessible mating position with your slick and cunt exposed for all the alphas to re-smell and see. 

Moaning, you shifted against the mount, your body not able to have the full movement you needed to ward off that building, insufferable heat in your core, but nothing you could do seemed to satisfy it.

“And for our biggest prize of the night, we have the one, the only, the beautiful sensation Y/l/n Y/n!” the auctioneer roared. His voice echoing in your ear as he walked over to you, exposing your dripping cunt to the crowd of alphas who had all gotten a sweet taste of your essence already. His hand came down to slap your ass with a chuckle. “Where do we start the bidding on this one, alphas? She needs no introduction, and none of you better be pussies because we know this bitch of an omega won’t take any tiny cocks as her alpha! She needs to be broken in, fucked to submission. No one likes a trailblazer… someone needs to remind of what fucking trail she’s supposed to be on. Besides, the bitch is in fucking heat, and if you don’t claim her, I just might do it myself!”

“75 million!” someone started the bidding.

You stiffened.

“75 to the man in the back!”

“90 million!” someone challenged.

“We’re up to 90!”

“125 million!”

“Do I hear another offer?”

“250 million!”

“250 million!”

The number climbed and climbed, the same voices coming to challenge each other until finally, they rounded out to a quantity that sounded bizarre even to you. 

“950 million!”

If it had been possible for your knees to give out, you would have been collapsed onto the floor, the pool of slick that continued to lubricate your cunt without a doubt drowning you as you craved the need to be fucked by someone with undoubted alpha pheromones and cock in this room. 

“950 million?” the auctioneer repeated, his voice for sure carrying a shark-like grin. “Going once, going twice—”

“Five billion.”

The gasp in the crowd was undeniable, and the omega in you crooned, knowing that this alpha valued you and your omega to be the price of five billion US dollars. 

“Fuck!” screamed the man who had presented the 950 million deal. 

“Wowee, five billion dollars, everyone! Anyone think they can beat that?! Going once! Going twice!” The crowd remained in silence, and you shook against your restraint, the heat emitting from your cunt almost demanding to be seen and fucked through this heat week. “SOLD! The virgin celebrity, Y/l/n Y/n sold to our own Shigaraki Tomura!”

The cheers of amaze weren’t nearly as loud as the smell of reeking petty alpha.

“Come and pay up, alpha, and then you can show us… a demonstration of how you’re going to break this omega.”

“Shut up.” Shigaraku growled, his footsteps heavy in your ear as you feel him climb up the stage, and you weakly tilted your head to look at the white-haired alpha boss hand over a simple credit card before walking over to you, his eyes unreadable as he looked you dead in the eye.

He reached out a finger that raised your chin up for him to study your face, moving and tilting your head as he pleased as a small, sinister smile pressed to his lips as he dropped your head. A sharp, uncomfortable pain fell on your chin as it crashed to the floor, and you shivered at the feeling of his calloused and rough fingers running down your exposed back.

“You’re such a small omega, still stupidly tiny. I bet you’ve never thought your first knot would come from someone like me,” Shigaraki laughed, his fingers and voice ice cold. His words were soft, spoken in a way that had your omega stupidly cooing for having secret conversations with your alpha who promised to fuck you till you were carrying a litter of pups. “I hope you realize that this is real life, that I will break you, and no hero in this world will be able to fucking save you.”

“Fuck the omega!” someone from the crowd screamed, and Shigaraki glared upwards. Still, you shivered in the thought of this alpha who spent five billion dollars to make you his claiming you, fucking your stupid heat brain into mush in front of these smaller, irrelevant alphas. 

“I’ll do what I fucking please,” Shigaraki snapped, but the fingers you remembered to have been the last ones to enter your slicked crazy walls seemed to be his. They moved deep within you, curling and spreading your tight, sopping wet cavern apart, letting your pathetic, chirping cries echo powerfully in the room as lusting, near rutting alpha pheromones filled the room. “For fucks sake, omega, your pussy’s fucking tight as shit! Don’t you have any real knotted toys?”

You couldn’t respond back, your body on the road to a complete shut down at the feeling of something other than silicone deep within your body, fingering and dragging against your pheromone soaked walls.

“Alpha, y-your fingers feel so good!” you gasp, your hips thrusting backward, enjoying the way his fingernails press onto your warm velvet walls. “So good, you make me feel so good already.”

“I’ve seen you all over the news,” Shigaraki growled low into your ear. “Talking about how you didn’t want an alpha, how you never needed to feel the tightness that a fat knot could bring you, and look at you now. I’ve barely touched you, barely begun to make you mine, and yet you’re already begging for me, omega.”

Your arms tug at the handcuffs, pathetically wanting them off. Exasperatedly seeking more friction from your newly bought alpha. You can’t think straight, can’t come up with a single response except the stupid apologetic, “I’m so sorry alpha, I didn’t know i-it would be y-you!”

“Don’t be shy on her, Shigaraki! Fuck the slutty omega already! Fucking knot and claim her in front of us, I want to hear the omega whore scream. It’s always hotter when it’s the first claim ever!”

“You better learn how to shut the fuck up, or I’ll kill you for interrupting my fucking session here,” Shigaraki seethed, his red, smoldering eyes ripping from yours and glaring at some loser alpha behind you. You couldn’t care. You only wanted what looked like the growing cock in Shigaraki’s pants; you wanted to feel the cock fill up your cunt, and his knot to lock you both in place.

You drooled at the thought, your loud, whimpering cries unable to keep from pouring out as the slick from your core seemed to pour endlessly from your pussy, demanding attention and a knot. “Breed me, fill me with your pups,” you begged fingers taking in his dirty fingers in your mouth, tongue wildly and uncontrollably flicking across his fingers in hopes it would be a sinking prayer of your promise to be good. “I want your knot, alpha, I want these stupid alphas to know you’re so much better than them~!”

Shigaraki’s once snarl fell when he looked at you, a slowly growing smirk falling on his face as his lips spread into a cruel smirk, one that had you moaning around his fingers as he pinched the pink muscle in your mouth before disappearing before you.

“I smelled your distress when I put my fingers up your sloppy little cunt right before the auction happened; I could tell even with your growing heat that you hated the feeling of my fingers up your pretty pussy. But look at you now, I haven’t even set you on my goddamn knot, haven’t stretched that tiny cunt to its max. You’re smelling better than a bitch in heat,” Shigaraki growled in your ear. His clothed chest pressing deliriously into your exposed back, the huge cock outline in his pants grinding incessantly into your wet core, undoubtedly leaving a damp patch where his cock ground into you. “You’re an actress, aren’t you, little omega? I bet you just needed this audience cheering your name to break your mind over this. How. Pathetic.”

And the pressure on your tongue is gone, the drool and saliva sticky and cold on your chin as you whimper for your alpha. You promised that it wasn’t right, it was just that you had been scared before, but your alpha was so strong, his pheromones so scary and mean, he could protect you and fill you up with so many pups you couldn’t help but to be excited now.

The smell of Shigaraki seemed to brighten, and you moaned when his hands pressed the white dress up, allowing for your naked ass to be seen by him and everyone who stayed to watch. Shigaraki squeezed your asscheeks away, chuckling at the way your small asshole clenched in your embarrassment and pain at how your hormone-driven heat demanded that he fuck you and knot you now.

“So fucking wet,” Shigaraki observed, his fingertips tracing the slick on your folds before a small pop told you that he licked you clean from his fingers. “Such sweet slick too, you really are a prime omega, little one.”

You whimpered, ass shaking for him to continue to touch you, to continue to fuck you more. 

“I don’t think you’re ready for my knot, precious omega,” Shigaraki taunted, and his words were a sealing deal in your lusting mind. Your hips knocking backward in some sort of desperation for more.

“She won’t,” commented the auctioneer.

“I will!” you scream, eyes filled with painful tears that could only be resolved with your alphas knot and claim. “I can take your knot, alpha!”

Shigaraki makes a small noise, and you choke at the feeling of something huge, nearly monstrous, shift into your cunt. You were a virgin, but even you knew that it was merely the head of his alpha thick cock, not enough for you to be satisfied, not far enough in you to breed or fuck you properly. All the moans in your throat were slightly painful, and the tears in your eyes continued to fall as you rocked your hips backward, trying to sink yourself further on his cock, wanting him deep in your womb.

You craved him.

“Ah, good, you can take more,” came the airy, almost insane driven coo of Shigaraki, the lack of humor making your cunt flutter against his thick, long cock. “Cry for your alpha, little omega.”

With that, Shigaraki slammed into you with no mercy, his cock bottoming out into you with a powerful, edging thrust. You screamed in pain, tears leaking from your eyes, and even with the pool of lubricating slick, his cock was far too big, incredibly thick that you felt your inner walls splitting in two as he fucked you as if you weren’t in delirious pain.

Drool and tears covered your arms, your painted fingers digging into the floorboards with crazy strength that you clawed scars on the floor as Shigaraki rutted deep within you.

Shigaraki commanded you with every thrust he gave, and soon the omega in you was cooing, howling for more, the pain of having your virginity ripped from right under you having become bubbling, glowing pleasure. You screamed in pleasure, Shigaraki grabbing onto your rolling hips to slam you back onto his cock, allowing for his thick cock to hit deep within you over and over again. The angle and power he possessed with every thrust were almost inhumane, nothing your lonely heat filled nights could ever dream of recreating ever. Shrill moans and pleas drowned out the annoying commentary of your onlookers, Shigaraki’s chest still flushed against your back, his hips landing heavily on your ass that was at this point raised because of the mount beneath you. 

“My alpha,” you babble, eyes unfocused, hazy, and incredibly heavy as you stared at some point on the wall, overwhelmed with the feeling of Shigaraki’s hot cock pounding in you. “My alpha, such a good alpha. His cock is making my tummy feel funny, making my pussy feel so tight. Please fill me with your children, I’ll be a good omega to you and them, I promise! I promise — I — oh myyy goddd — I promise, alpha!!!”

Shigaraki puffs up with the praise, but he continued to fuck into you roughly, mercilessly, as if you were nothing more than the breeding whore omega that he had purchased you for. The wet slaps and satisfying squelches rang in the blazing heat room, the smell of the pleasured and heat insane omega saturating deeply within his nose, and in the other's nose, the prideful smell of a satisfied alpha.

Your spongy walls clenched and spasmed against his penetrating, pounding cock, sometimes even forcibly because, by god, it was hot when his cock would twitch within your womb, especially against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so damn annoying,” Shigaraki snarled into your ear, his teeth biting and scraping along your neck, and you wailed when his teeth dragged over the sweet scent gland on your neck. The one and only place for mating bites to go. His hand gripped your hair, tugging your head back so that you could feel his rough facial skin rub up against yours. “If you want me to fill you with my pups, you better be the best fucking omega on this goddamn planet.”

“I can be the best! I’ll be the best!” you cried, your ass shifting backward to meet his drilling hips. 

The delirious sensation of his cock rocking against your cervix slowly begins to inflate the knot on his cock, restricting his still barbaric thrusting as he made to move faster. He wanted you to cum before he knotted entirely within you. 

The pressure in your stomach is scorching and impossibly tight, and he takes another long stripe at your scent gland. You tremble with need, your fingers tearing into the wooden floors. You can feel the knot on his cock swelling up, catching onto the opening of your cunt with every successive cunt, and you begin to cry, shake, and tremble as the knot becomes too big.

Your eyes cross, your tongue falling out of your mouth as you babble his name. Your walls clamp around his knotted cock with the ferocity of a vice, and your body jerks violently as you cum hard around his cock. The slick essence of your orgasm slipping out of the few lasting places open before Shigaraki’s knot fills you out entirely. Despite his cock unable to move, the swollenness of his knot preventing him from moving out of you, Shigaraki still shoves his weight into his hips, the inflated knot stretching your cock out so widely, your vision went white, and you came yet a second time.

A small pop was heard, and suddenly with a rush of thick, hot, and heavy white cum exploded within your womb, his teeth sink around your scent gland, marking you — mating you. He filled you, filled you, and filled you. His cum wouldn’t stop until your belly was swollen with his hot cum, and he eventually fell off of you with a shaky, shallow breath.

You still remained on the mount, your eyes unfocused, breaths mumbling to your alpha, a promise to carry out every single pup he gave you and would give you. You were his omega, his good little omega, and you would never disappoint your alpha. Not now, not ever.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

The next week, you opened your door with a broad smile, your usual clothes replaced with a dress Shigaraki had picked for you and a frilly white apron on as your agent was standing outside of your house, eyes wide, mouth gaped at the still bleeding mate wound on your shoulder.

“Ah, how funny!” you laughed, waving your hand as you sighed dreamily, your eyes fluttering at the thought of your alpha who was on a business call right now. “I’m actually going to be quitting! My alpha and I have many plans right now, I gotta produce as many litters as I can, being an actress would never give me this sort of meaning in life!”

“B-But, you’re doing so much?! You have so much to do! You can’t give up?!”

“Oh, my love, we both know that I look much cuter with a pregnant belly! Don’t worry,” you smile, taking your agent's hand, brightly smiling at her one last time. “I’m sure all omegas will eventually find their alpha so they won’t be so depressed and angry like I was!”

Your agent doesn’t get another word in.

You slam the door in her face, your hands already resting on your belly that you knew was already growing the life of your first litter of pups. It had been known the second Shigaraki filled you up anymore.

You were a good little omega, and your alpha needed you!

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #bbs kinktober 2020

[emilyoftheshadows]

Person A catches a bus home everyday, but today, they're so exhausted that they fall asleep, suddely they feel a light tap on their shoulder and open their eyes to see a cute guy/gal/person smiling at them. "Sorry to wake you, bit this is your stop, i hope you slept well"

So, this is the first piece I have written and posted here! This is a fluffy drabble loosely based on the prompt above as well as some tik tok ideas i've seen. I hope you enjoy and don't judge too hard :)

~~~~~~

Aelin never knew that she could feel such a wide range of emotions in such a short amount of time. The hectic events she had endured earlier in her day had left her drained and in dire need of sleep.

She started out her mornings as usual - brewing her coffee with the help of an overly excited Fleetfoot. On the subway ride to work, coffee in hand, she explicitly remembered checking her emails for any important notices regarding her job. As an advertising agent, she dealt with multiple clients at one time. With her meticulously organized calendar and the help of her overworked assistant Marion, she was usually able to keep everything in check. Today was not one of those days.

As she entered her office, Marion greeted her with her tablet in hand- Aelin’s schedule color coded, labeled and sorted by hour.

 “Good morning Ms. Galathynius, ready to hear your schedule for today?” Aelin nodded, sipping her coffee as Marion listed her client meetings for the upcoming day. As they entered her office, Aelin paused.

“Marion, could you please repeat that first meeting  again?”

“The Havilliard Scotch pitch at 12?” And that was when Aelin knew she was fucked. This pitch was meant for a well known drinking company in New York, fast on the come up. Havilliard Sr. was known to be picky about his branding, scrutinizing most agencies that had helped him before. She had barely gotten this client, practically begging Nehemia for the job. As she worked the branding, she had become worried about the content she was producing.

She was so worried about this pitch, that she had taken her laptop home last night in hopes of triple checking her work for mistakes and to fine tune some details. And that's where her laptop was at that moment. At her apartment, across town, sitting on her desk, collecting dust. Her mind raced at how to solve her predicament. The subway ride to and from her apartment was too long of a trip to make before the meeting and, like an amateur, she hadn’t saved her files anywhere else but her laptop. She was completely fucked. 

Marion stood in the doorway, confused on what was going on in Aelin’s head. Aelin decided to finally release herself from her stupor. “Marion, could you please go find Aedion for me? And tell him it’s an emergency.”

With a determined look on her face, her assistant went as fast as her short legs could carry her to Aedion’s office on the adjacent part of the building floor she was on. Within minutes, Aedion was standing at her door, panting like he had just sprinted the fastest race of his life. The good thing about having her overbearing cousin work with her, is that she knew that in any problem he would help in an instant. And this was one hell of a fucking problem.

“What happened Aelin? Are you okay? Were you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”

“You idiot I am physically fine, but still screwed and I need your help.” Aedion released the first breath Aelin had seen him take since entering her office.

“You know, when Marion power walked into my office saying you had an EMERGENCY and she didn’t know what was wrong with you, I definitely thought you would be passed out on your floor with blood on your face. But, you know, thanks for the heart attack. Really woke me up this morning.” 

Aelin rolled her eyes at him. He was more dramatic than her, and that spoke volumes in itself. 

“Aedion, please it really is an emergency. I have the big pitch for the Havilliard Scotch today and I left my laptop with the presentation at my apartment.” Aedion’s eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Aelin had been obsessed about this pitch and that mistakes like this only happened to her once in a blue moon. Aelin saw understanding dawn on his face and took that as a sign to continue.

“Now, I know a while back I sent you the rough drafts of the branding from when I first got the pitch. Is there any chance that you have the email or presentation saved still? If I have the basis of the presentation, I have an hour to build on it and hopefully fix this.”

Aedion’s face fell at the request. “We can go look, but you know I’m not the best at organizing my files Ace. It could be anywhere on my computer or not at all.” With those reaffirming words, Aelin and Aedion walked at a brisk pace back to his office. Combing through Aedion’s computer was an agonizing process. There were files saved from years ago that should’ve been deleted, and backtracking through all the contents of his computer made Aelin want to stab her eyes out. But it was all worth it, because hidden in the depths of this man’s terribly organized computer was the presentation. With a quick click of a button, she emailed the document to herself. She gave a half ass hug to Aedion, then practically ran to her office to start reworking her pitch on the computer there.

--

Aelin believed it was pure adrenaline that enabled her to finish her pitch in time for the Havilliard meeting. With a strong foundation laid out before her from her first draft, she had constructed almost her exact pitch that was left at home. Aelin waited for the Havilliards in the boardroom, smoothing out her clothes as she paced at the front. Far too soon, Marion escorted Havilliard Sr., Dorian Havilliard, and their close friend and partner Chaol Westfall into the room for her presentation. The three men had sat down in silence with no introduction, except for a small encouraging smile from the younger Havilliard. Taking that as her sign to start, Aelin cleared her throat.

“Hello gentlemen, today I want to present to you the future of Havilliard Scotch…”

---

As the men had exited the room single file, Aelin finally allowed herself to relax. That had felt like the longest pitch of her life. Going into the meeting, she had known the men were notorious for being extremely serious and critical of their agents. What she had not expected was the whispered words between the men after she had finished her presentation. As she looked on, Dorian Havilliard had finally broken away from their circle to address her.

“Miss Galathynius, thank you for your time. We will get back to you shortly about our decision to run with this branding or not.” With a quick nod and gesture to his companions, the trio had stood up and left the room. She was utterly shocked. Aelin had poured her sweat and tears into this pitch, quite literally, and they had just thanked her and left. No critiques, no opinions, no nothing. 

Quite honestly, Aelin was exhausted. She had spent most of her brain power reworking that pitch in that 45 minutes before that meeting and she had nothing left to give today. Yet, she still had a full schedule left to woo clients and work on her other projects. By the time Aelin trudged back to the subway, she was ready for a nice dinner at home followed by a restorative night of sleep with Fleetfoot at her side. 

Now, as she entered the subway, she immediately noticed the mystery man sitting down a few feet away from her. The man was moderately built, with muscles that were outlined by the fabric of his long sleeve t-shirt. His style was simple with a pair of nice jeans and Doc Marten boots, but that just allowed one's focus to settle on the beautiful creation that was his face. Mystery man had a strong jawline, lined with a bit of stubble and scruff. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green like none that she had seen before, his head topped with luscious silver hair. As the subway started, Mystery Man continued to sketch drawings into his book. Now, Aelin was never one to back  down from an opportunity to flirt with one of the most attractive men she had ever seen. She was a single woman in a big city, why the hell not. But her day had taken a toll on her, and she just didn’t know if this was the right time or place. So, she opted to put in her headphones as she waited for her stop, listening to relaxing music to calm her anxieties regarding the failed Havilliard pitch. 

 Seeing that her stop was next, Aelin rose from her seat to wait in line for the doors to open. As she waited, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Low and behold, there was the Mystery Man standing next to her with a piece of paper in hand. As she pulled her headphone out, the man silently handed her the paper. Looking down, she saw a pencil sketch of herself on the subway. The drawing was beautifully done with bold lines and harsh shading, contrasted by highlights created from the fluorescent lights of the subway. Her eyes welled up, immediately grateful for this thoughtful gift after such a horrible day. The Mystery Man saw her emotions, startled to see tears welling up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy. I just… I like to draw and when I saw you… I mean, it’s just you’re so stunning..” The man’s face flushed red as he tried to justify his beautiful art. Aelin laughed out loud for the first time today at his misunderstanding of her swell of emotions. 

“Oh no, these are just tears of..uhmm.. happiness? I guess…” She started to flush at her own awkwardness, trying to explain her emotions this time.

“I just had a really rough day and feel like shit. But this drawing is beautiful and I really am grateful that such a talented artist like yourself chose me as your muse today.” Aelin watched as the Mystery Man reacted to such a lavish compliment, somehow developing an even deeper blush with a shy smile . Gaining confidence from his reaction, she decided to make her move before she exited for her upcoming stop. 

“Hey, Mystery Man, why don’t I give you my number? Seeing that I am your muse and all, I would really like to learn more about your art.” It was a subpar pickup line at best, but hey, she had a long day and for the circumstance she thought it good enough. The man gave a deep timbered laugh at her pickup line, clearly enjoying their conversation now. 

“I think I might be one step ahead of you actually. Flip the drawing over.” As she flipped the paper, she saw a messy scrawl with the name Rowan, and what she could only assume was his number. The sight of these two things brought her complete giddiness. Giddiness that made you want to jump in the air and pump your fist because you're so excited. She looked up at Rowan, smirking as she tucked the piece of paper into her purse.

As the subway doors opened and they were pushed apart by bypassers, she turned around one last time to look at the man who had brightened her day beyond belief. She winked at Rowan as she walked away, not missing the wide smile he gave in return as the subway doors closed and continued on to the next stop.

[agentofscifi]

Super Genius Ch. 3

I march my way through the complex, ignoring the stares off all of the Avengers. My Dad is biting into a bagel as I stop next to him. He swallows quickly. “Happy Birthday Kiddo!”  

I feel my eye twitch. “Peter, Peni, Miles, Anya, and Gwen have all been bitten by radioactive spiders. MJ and Ned seem to be some sort of Superhero backup. Riri and Harley recreated your tech in garages. Are any of these kids normal?”  

My Dad flushes. “How’s you find out?”  

“Peter got surprised, jumped, landed on the ceiling and then stayed there! This is not normal!”  

My Dad opens and closes his mouth. “I can explain!”  

I raise an eyebrow. “Explain what? How every one of your new interns is either helping a superhero, is a superhero, or is on their way to being a Superhero? What is this, the Junior Avengers?”  

My Dad rolls his eyes. “I haven’t coined a name yet, and don’t you mean everyone but you?”  

I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe.” It didn’t matter as much now. My parents in France were told about me being Ladybug after I became the Guardian. The kids all already knew. Harley had looked in my bag for my charging cord last night only to find Tikki. This would be when Peter freaked out and got stuck on the ceiling. Giant talking bugs were not normal in New York, according to Peter. Either way, my superhero ID had already known to the rest of the kids.  

My Dad does a double take. “What does “maybe” mean?”  

I shrug. “Maybe means that I was given a pair of magical earrings with a tiny goddess that’s attached to them when I was 12 and that I’ve been fighting a magical terrorist for the past 3 years while in Paris.”  

Everyone is looking at me once again. My Father is blinking rapidly. “This is a joke, right?”  

Tikki suddenly pops up in the air next to me. “Hi, I’m Tikki! I’m the Ladybug Kawami.”  

A disheveled Clint looks up from his cup of coffee before slowly grabbing a newspaper and rolling it up. “Stark, don’t move. There’s a giant floating bug.”  

I reach forward and snatch the newspaper from his hand. “She’s a goddess.”  

Clint closes his eyes slowly. “So, no huge bug bites from the giant floating bug goddess?”  

I resist the urge to facepalm. “No, there won’t be any bug bites. Drink your coffee.” Clint nods and slowly starts to sip on his coffee again.  

My Dad clears his throat. “Magical terrorist?”  

“Who uses evil butterflies to possess people.”  

My Dad stares at me then looks to the ceiling. “FRIDAY? Is my daughter on drugs?”  

“No, Mr. Stark. Further research has turned up a few blogs and news articles speaking of Ladybug, Chat Noir, and several other heroes fighting a Hawkmoth and Mayura.”  

My Dad furrows his brow. “Is Paris on drugs?”  

I roll my eyes. “No, Dad. This is not the point. Are you, or are you not, starting some kind of Junior Justice League?”  

My father gives me a playful glare. “Mari, you know me. I’m just mentoring.”  

“So you are starting a Junior Justice League.” I throw my hands into the air. “You have got to be kidding me!”  

“Marinette!” My Dad is whining now, like a child.  

I roll my eyes and decide to skip out on the rest of my questions involving my Father’s collection of teenage superheroes. “Dinner with Pepper, Rodney, and Happy tonight?”  

He smiles. “Of course, at your favorite restaurant!”  

I peak him on the cheek. “Love you Dad!” I twist around on my heels and hit the button for the elevator.  

Sam blinks as I step into the elevator. Tikki waves at Sam, who hesitantly waves back. “What’s with the floating giant bug in the elevator?”  

“The tiny goddess attached to Tony’s kid’s earrings that she used to fight a magical terrorist in France that’s possessing people with butterflies.” Natasha leans back in her seat, sipping on a cup of coffee.  

Sam rubs his eyes and looks back at Tikki, who is still waving cheekily. “I’m going back to bed.”  

The elevator door closes as Sam turns back around to go to bed.  

A few seconds later I end up back in the Teen living room. Harley looks up as I walk back in. “So, are we the Junior Justice League?”  

“Yup. You guys ready for today?”  

Ned briefly throws his hands up in the air. “5 Days of Star Wars in less than 24 hours!”  

MJ rolls her eyes as she finishes up the shopping list. “It’s 7 days Ned. We need to sleep.”  

“Sleep is for the weak!” Peni sitting on top of her robot, her spider resting on her shoulder.  

Anya sighs and runs a hand over her face. “I cannot believe I am doing this.”  

My mouth splits wide open. “Doing what Anya? Adding an AI to the Avengers Tower, freeing ourselves of the Baby Monitors, and rebelling form the man upstairs.”  

Gwen looks over the back of the couch with a raised eyebrow. “Is the man your father?”  

“Yes and if he was in my shoes, he’d be doing the exact same thing.”  

Gwen shrugs. “Probably.”  

“I’m sorry!” Peter looks around at all of us. “Are we all just going to go with the tiny goddess living in our...apartment, the girl with magical earrings, and the terrorist in Paris with magical butterflies possessing people?”  

“Peter,” Miles looks up from the sketch book in his hand. “There's a wizard with a semi-sentiate cape living in New York. The tiny goddess makes more sense than the cape. The evil butterflies, I’ll give you that. That’s just weird.”  

I click my tongue. “Says the kid who developed invisibility after being bitten by a spider. That’s weird.”  

Miles holds his hands up. “Agree to disagree.” He reaches down and holds up his paper. It was done in colored pencil, but was drawn as if it was spray painted. It was a large yin-yang symbol, however, a spider sat in the Yin circle of the Yang side and the arc reactor symbol sat in the Yang circle of the Yin side. “What do you think?”  

“I think we need to add spray paint to the shopping list. We have our symbol of rebellion.”  

Harley shrugs again. “Or the symbol of our Junior Avengers?”  

Riri glares up at Harley. “Way to ruin the moment, country boy.”  

Back in Paris  

Lila’s POV  

Alya squeals as Miss. Bustier smiles before the collection of students. Technically, Lycée was out for the year, but after months of fundraising and paperwork, the Akuma Class of Lycée Françoise Dupont was attending the International Technology Showcase in Washington D.C. in 2 months. A sizable anonymous donation was sent to the school. I had already spun a story telling all of my sheep that Tony Stark sent the money so that we could see the Showcase in D.C.  

Max had already planned on attending the showcase this summer, as he was showing off a computer program of his. With the announcement that the school would be covering the rest of the trip, several other students in the class were considering adding their own inventions to the showcase. I would have to whip something up and then maybe I’d be able to catch the eye of someone at the showcase. Science wasn’t where I wanted to end up, but winning some award at a huge competition for a bunch of nerds would look great on my portfolio.  

I give a loud sigh. “This sounds great, but unfortunately, my designs went missing. I had this amazing idea that I worked out with Tony Stark. The equations and blueprints disappeared out of my bag on the last day of school.” 3, 2, 1, and!  

Alya gasps. “I bet it was Marinette, just like your laptop Lila!”  

“Did you ever go to the police, Lila?” Rose is giving me one of those obnoxious smiles.  

“I tried, but since I didn’t have any proof, they said they couldn’t do much. Marinette must have reset the tablet.” I give a few sniffs as the class tries to comfort me.  

“You know, I bet if we told Marinette’s parents they’d believe us!” Alya stands up from the benches just outside the school. “I bet they’ll force Marientte to give back Lila’s laptop.”  

A brief wave of shock rolls over me. That was something I hadn’t considered yet, turning Ms. Goodie-Tooshoe’s parents against her. The iPad idea might not work alone, but with all the other stories I had made up, I could probably convince them. “Well, if you think it’s the best thing to do.”  

The whole class makes their way over to the bakery, Alya at the lead. I let the class escort me over, as if I didn’t want to be bothering the two bakers.  

Alya slams open the front door, the bell’s ring catching the attention of the two people behind the register, as well as the woman attempting to order. Both of Marientte’s parents give the class smiles, however, they seem hesitant. “Hello kids,” Marinette’s mother waves to us. “I’ll be with you in a second.”  

Alya, instead, marches her way towards the counter and pushes the woman aside. “Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, we have something important to talk to you about!”  

Said woman’s smile falls instantly as the other woman rubs her side. I immediately knew this wouldn’t go to plan. I’d have to adapt to get things my way. “Alya, I’m with a customer. It will have to wait a few minutes.”  

Alya rolls her eyes. “This is more important. Where’s Marinette?”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng crosses her arms over her chest. “Marinette isn’t here. What is this all about?”  

“Mari’s been bullying Lila!” Alya points back to me and I give a small wave. “She’s stolen things from her, called her a liar, has sent mean texts, and just a few days ago, she took Lila’s iPad and some tech plans Lila worked out with Tony Stark.”  

Marinette’s parents share a look before her mother bursts out laughing. Alya rears back her head in shock and I can’t even hide my surprise. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng looks back at us. “Marinette didn’t steal any tech plans. She doesn’t need to.”  

Alya opens and closes her mouth a few times. “What! Of course she does! She’s a complete scatterbrain.”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng’s eyes darken. “My daughter skipped a year of school and still had the best grades in your class, hell, in your year. She managed to have these top grades while juggling her class’ work, class representative duties and all of your outrageous requests that were usual last minute and always free.”  

Several of my classmates are red or pale after those words. This was not going my way at all. I give Marinette’s mother a big smile. “Well, that’s what friends do, they help each other.”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng raises an eyebrow. “Right. I suppose this is why my daughter spent countless nights and hundreds of euros on fabrics for commission she was never paid for. Or, why Marinette was told she’d be babysitting three little kids for free while their older siblings went on dates with the money their parents gave them for babysitting. Or why she was told she was being selfish everytime she tried to ask for help.”  

I let my smile fall. This was not going to plan at all. “She stole things from Lila!” Alya has a look of disbelief on her face. “She stole important work. So what if Marinette’s a year ahead. Max still has way better grades than her. You’ll see next year when we restart classes.”   

Max’s chest puffs out in pride. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng just raises an eyebrow. “Go to the police then, if my daughter has stolen something. As for next year, Marinette graduated Lycée last week after years of working ahead. She’s attending MIT in the fall.”  

This could not be happening. Adrien looks at Marinette’s mother with shocked eyes. “Why didn’t she tell us?”  

At the same time Alya screams. “What!”  

The eyebrow is raised even high. “Because you told my daughter that you weren’t friends with her anymore. Now, you had barged into my shop, pushed a client, and rudely interrupted a sale. Please leave!”  

“But-”  

“Now!” The class scurried out the door, me along with them. Marinette’s mother looked truly angry.  

We all stand outside the shop, several of my sheep looking completely confused. Since when was Ms. Goodie-Goodie smart enough to graduate two years early?  

I huff and I slowly make my way up the staircase of the Dupain-Cheng home. I need something for this showcase and if Marientte is as smart as her mother says she is, then she’d have something. I managed to pick the lock of the bakery and make my way up to the attic that Marinette called a room.  

It was bare. That was the best way to describe the room. All of the walls were empty of decorations. The desk had nothing on it either. All that was left was the basic furniture and the sheets on the bed. I try all of the desk drawers and even under the bed, nothing. Then, I remember it the board Alya told me about. The schedule of Adrien’s that Marinette had kept.  

I rooted around at the edge of the bed until I found it. The edge of the board. Smiling, I pull it all the way down. It was several layers of plans on top of each other. There were details about several apps, some green projects and well as some super resistant fabric for firefighters. What really caught my eye was the equations and blue prints for a small device that would wirelessly charge any device in a 50 radius. I snap photos of all layers of plans. If I could get this stuff out there, I could make thousands, and all with the help of Marinette. The only issue would be if Marinette came after me for stealing her work. Who was I kidding, that wouldn’t be an issue. I’d just shed some tears and tell everyone about Marinette’s bullying. I had school records to back me up. It’s not like anyone would believe her if she said she did the work.  

New York City

Marinette’s POV

I click my tongue as a notification pops up on my phone. After Chloe had broken into my room I’d set up security cameras and motion sensor alerts in case anyone else tried something. A good idea seeing as Lila was currently picking at things in my room. I raise an eyebrow as she pulls down my chart and starts to take photos of my inventions on there.  

“Everything alright?” Riri stops at shoulder and looks over at the phone. “What is she doing?”  

“She is taking photos of my ideas. The coding for a few apps, blueprints for some green energy things, the information required for my super resistant firefighter fabric and an invention I got a patent back on last week. It goes on sale in a month with Stark Industries.”  

“Cool. How does she expect to get away with this?”   

“Didn’t you hear!” I pick up an overly fake fangirl tone of voice. “It’s Lila Rossi! She’s Ladybug’s best friend, she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten, she does all kinds of environmental charities with Prince Ali, she helps the Avengers and all while having arthritis, sprained ankles and wrists, and tinnitus that switches ears every few hours.”  

Peter stops in the middle of the living room, a look of complete confusion on his face. “I thought Jagged Stone had a crocodile?”  

“He does Peter.”  

“Since when does Tinnitus switch ears?” Peter is still confused.  

“Since she saved Jagged Stone’s cat from an airplane.”  

Harley snorts from the edge of the kitchen. “This sounds like fantasy.”  

I groan. “You’d think, but my class all believes her. Max made a freaking A.I robot, with emotions, but believes that a paper napkin could cut his eye. He wears glasses.”  

“What did Hawkmoth lower your class’ IQs or something?” Anya settles down into the nest we had made in the past hour.  

“A leading theory.”  

The phone rings with a facetime request. I hit the accept button and my father’s face pops up with a stack of papers in his hands. “What is this?”  

I raise an eyebrow. “You got our declaration of independence.”  

My father looks unimpressed. “What is this?”  

Riri is grinning next to me. “Our declaration of independence.”  

“What does that mean?” I can’t but laugh at the confused expression on my Dad’s face.   

Harley pops up on my other shoulder. “No baby monitoring protocols!”  

“Junk food all day!” Miles yells from his spot.  

“No bedtime!” Peni is cheering. Sometimes I forget how young she is.  

There’s laughing in the background from my father’s end. “Tony, are the kids beating you up?” I recognize Bucky’s voice in the background.  

My father ignores the comment. “How did you block FRIDAY?”  

“Simple, I added in my own AI. I left the backdoor open years ago.”  

“You have an AI?” My father’s face is torn between confusion and pride.  

“JADA. Junior Avengers Defying Adults.”  

“Mari!” My Dad is whining again.  

“You have 5-6 days to review our Declaration, we will be occupied during this time. We have a lawyer, for the record.”  

“Do I want to know what you’ll be doing?”  

“Star Wars marathon. All 12 movies, along with all 7 seasons of Clone Wars, the first season of the Bad Batch, all 4 seasons of Rebels, and the two seasons of The Mandalorian. If we don’t sleep, it’s roughly 7711 minutes of Star Wars, which is 128 hours and 31 minutes or 5 days and eight hours. So, when you see us again is entirely dependent on how long we can go without sleep.”  

“I worry about you sometimes.”  

“ I’ve got to go. Ned just put in the first film.”

“Just one question. What is on the floor behind you?”  

I looked over my shoulder at the nest that had been put together over the past hour. Riri was settling into her spot. “That’s 6 mattresses, 19 blankets, and about a dozen pillows.”  

“Why?”  

“Couches are boring.”  

“Ok, now I’m worried about all of you.”  

“Goodbye Dad!”

Before ~~~~~~ Next

#lila salt #alya salt #miraculous ladybug #avengers #marinette deserves better #Tony Stark #class salt #bustier salt #Marinete is Tony Stark's Kid #peter parker #super genius marinette

[lovinglokilaufeyson]

188 - S.R 

Pairings: Spencer Reid x Reader, Derek Morgan x Penelope Garcia

Warnings: Gore, crime, kidnapping, mentions of sexual assault, little bit of a sexual scene at the end

Wordcount: 3727

Summary: Hotch calls you in for a mission. However, your intelligence may prove as a downfall, as Dr. Reid becomes insecure, comparing himself to you. This leads to a break in the case, but is it too late?

A/N: So, once again, it looks like I’m switching things up just a bit. Let me know what you guys think! I love doing multiple different types of fanfiction, with many different characters. I will of course, still work on my Loki and Draco stuff. I also noticed that “Naughty” has reached over a thousand notes! Absolutely insane, guys. Thank you for all the love. I’ve now entered college and things are a lot different than when they were in high school. I’m a lot more invested in doing well in my classes, and it’s definitely been a large adjustment for me. Thank you all so much for your patience with everything. I also recently checked my inbox and found so much love as well as some requests that I will be working on. I’ve had quite a bit of extra time as I was exposed to COVID and I am currently in quarantine housing at my university. I’ll try to get them all done soon! Hope you enjoy this change of pace. 

“For this case,” Aaron Hotchner explained “we’re going to need all hands on deck. We’re leaving in the morning.” Hotch knew exactly who to bring in. The newest graduate of the academy - he had worked with her before, and she was extremely in tune with criminology, profiling, and she had several doctorates. However, he was nervous about how one Spencer Reid would feel about one piece of information. She had an IQ of 188. If Spencer were to find out this information, he would feel - inadequate. But Hotch knew that Y/N L/N was vital to this case. They were looking for a replacement for JJ’s maternity leave. She could be the perfect fit - at least for a while. He had made his decision. Picking up the phone, he dialed her number. 

You walked nervously into the BAU for what seemed like the millionth time. It was only 32, in all actuality. You’d only been asked to assist in a handful of cases, you had just graduated the academy and were therefore deemed “ready” only a few months ago. You were born ready, you thought. You took snapshots in your mind as you entered the building. You could easily tell you the exact differences between the surroundings on this day in comparison to the first 31 times. There was a cup of utensils on the very front desk starting on October 26th of last year to today. You could tell anyone exactly how many pencils and pens were there each time - including what color. October 26th - 5 black pens, 6 blue pens, and 3 pencils. 

You shook your head. There were more practical uses for your “genius” brain. “Stop it, Y/N” you told yourself. You entered the elevator, when you were stopped by a tall, lanky boy about a few years older than you. He was quite attractive, but you were awkward in these situations. When you were simply playing a part, it was a lot easier to “play” guys. However, when you were actually attracted to one? You couldn’t handle yourself. 

You let him in, immediately asking “what floor?” “7th” he answered, neglecting to make eye contact. However, upon glancing at the buttons, he realized that you too, were heading to the floor of the BAU. He couldn’t stop himself from making a slightly rude remark - accidentally, of course. “Do you have the wrong floor?” “Shit,” he thought to himself, facepalming internally. “There’s a cute girl, Reid. Don’t be an idiot.” 

“Oh, the BAU is on the 7th floor - right?” You responded quickly, to which he nodded. “My bad.” “No worries” you noted, kindly. 

The boy was wearing a maroon colored cardigan, a light blue button up, a navy tie, and black slacks. He had a brown over-the-shoulder bag at his side, and he twittled his thumbs quickly. “Was he nervous?” You asked yourself. Or bored? You couldn’t get a proper read on him. He made you feel - odd. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. You couldn’t wait to get out of that elevator. 

After what seemed like days (26 seconds) you were out of the elevator. Thankfully, Agent Hotchner was there to greet you immediately. “Agent Reid, I see you’ve met Y/N L/N. She’s assisting on this case.” Hotch nodded at Reid, who had finally made the connection. “Not properly, but it’s lovely to meet you, Y/N.” Spencer made a point to smile at you, who came off as young and naïve. You had to have been a few years younger than he, Spencer thought. 

Hotch lead you into the debriefing room, where you met one Penelope Garcia. You immediately smiled at her presence, Penelope seemed to light up a room with no effort. “Oh, she’s a cute one, isn’t she!” She remarked, smiling at you. From a few feet away, in the doorway, Derek Morgan stared in amazement at Garcia’s kindness towards the new member. Derek then approached, going to shake your hand with ease. Afterwards, he let his hand travel to squeeze Penelope’s waist, teasingly. He lightly kissed her cheek. “Alright, you two. I need to debrief Y/N on this case. Go ahead and - do what you need to - elsewhere, please.” Hotch shook his head. The pair headed towards the door, where Morgan placed a large slap on Penelope’s ass. You winced, slightly uncomfortable with the sexual gesture. “Don’t worry - they specialize in different things here. Derek’s out on the field, while Penelope works as a technical analyst.”

You sighed in relief. You never did take well to sexually affectionate partnerships. You always felt - awkward. You never knew how to handle it. You assumed, however, that other people felt the same way. Hotch began going over the case, and you seemingly remembered every single detail. 3 police officers have been kidnapped in Boise, Idaho. You remembered the locations, the appearances, the crime scenes, and the badge numbers of the officers. In your head, you made a map of the unsub’s comfort zone. You began thinking of what the officers were kidnapped for - no dead bodies had appeared yet. Each were physically fit, attractive, between 25-30 years of age. There’d be more time to think of theories, you thought to yourself. Hotch, now exiting the room, gave a quick “wheels up in 30.” 

You took this as a signal to leave the room as well, leaving the file that Hotch gave to you on the desk. Soon, you’d both realize, that this was a mistake. Upon entering the plane, you snuggled soundly into a seat, hoping to get some rest before arriving in Boise. They had quite a while before arriving. You calculated, with turbulence and other factors, as well as averages, that they would be there in roughly 6 hours and 12 minutes. Your to-go bag was safely stashed in the backside of the plane for now. 

However, you forgot one key detail. The team was heavily up for a discussion with regards to this unsub and their victims. In order to prove yourself, you thought, providing information to the conversation was incredibly important. Even in your sleep, however, you could probably retain key points from the conversation. Nonetheless, you sat at attention, ready to discuss this police kidnapper. Suddenly, the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Secured for takeoff, our approximate flight time is 6 hours 15 minutes.” You couldn’t help yourself. “Actually, with turbulence, average flight times, and wind speeds right now, it should be more like 6 hours and 12 minutes.” You cursed yourself immediately after the words came out of your mouth. Prentiss, who had not yet introduced herself, smiled and muttered a quick “Slow down there, Dr. Reid.” When she looked over at Reid, he looked relieved, as if you beat him to it. 

Prentiss now went to greet the you, apologizing for not doing so sooner. “Emily Prentiss,” she reached out her hand. You smiled, shaking Emily’s hand. “Y/N L/N. Lovely to meet you.” Hotch came out with several files, all pertaining to this case. You had worked with kidnapping of law enforcement several times, which is why Hotch felt you would be such an asset to the team’s efforts. 

“Alright, let’s begin.” Hotch sat down. Opening his file, he began to look over the scenes where officers were taken. “Each of the men were taken on duty. There’s no evidence of them being taken, besides the fact that they left their patrol cars out in the open. The keys were thrown out beside each one of the cars. No blood spatter at the scenes. They may still be alive.” 

“Maybe the unsub is a rejected or former cop?” Prentiss suggested, and the team nodded in agreement. “These police men are some of the most successful and attractive in the field. It’s possible that this unsub feels “less than” them.” Morgan added. Turning to a screen showing Garcia, “Baby girl. I need you to search for fired, laid off, or rejected police officers from the Boise Police Department. Check for within the last month first - that could have been our unsub’s trigger.” “On it, sugar!” Garcia signed out, ready to search for whatever was out there. 

“Reid, Derek, and Y/N, head to the abduction sites to analyze once we land. Prentiss and I will meet Rossi at the station to speak to the families, as well as any other officers that were on duty at that time.” You were excited, hearing Rossi’s name. You had met and worked with him several times before, and were a bit of a fan. Not that you’d ever admit it. 

“The faster we build this profile, the higher our chances of saving these men.” 

-

By the time you arrived in Boise, it was mid-afternoon. The first scene was relatively untouched, a parking lot in downtown Boise. Owen Thomas, 24, was on duty there, and was kidnapped around 10:30 pm. At this time, he stopped responding to any calls. You suddenly spoke: “It’s an obvious blitz attack. If our theory is correct, then the officers wouldn’t have responded positively to the unsub.” “Y/N’s right. These officers probably don’t have a good history with someone rejected from the force. It could’ve been someone they went to the academy with.” Prentiss agreed. 

Prentiss met up with Hotch during break, which left you and Reid. You were nervous. He made you nervous - more so than usual. You both weren’t very hungry, and decided a small coffee shop would be the best place to go. “So, did you just do generals at the academy?” Reid asked, and you smiled, nodding politely. “I’ve always found it difficult to only be interested in one thing. That’s why I’ve found myself pursuing so many different paths.” You stated. Reid stood in awe for a moment. He honestly felt the exact same way as you. “You enjoy aerodynamics?” He asked, and you nodded once more. He was obviously referring to the estimations you made on the plane’s route. “Yes, but that’s not one of my main studies.” Reid looked at you, perplexed, almost. “I have Ph.Ds in criminology, medical science, medicine, and modern languages. Two bachelors, psychology and engineering. I’m looking into another one as well.” 

Reid sat dumbfounded. He felt, for the first time in his life, less than someone else. Is this why Hotch called her in? As his replacement? 

“That’s cool - I have three doctorates and B.As.” You looked at him in amazement, now. It wasn’t everyday that you met someone as young as you with roughly the same amount of knowledge. “What are they in, Reid?” You asked him. “Ph.Ds in chemistry, engineering, and mathematics. B.As in psychology, sociology, and philosophy.” “Wow, that’s amazing.” He felt like you were teasing him, in a way. You weren’t, in all actuality. Reid just couldn’t seem to rationalize his emotions. You had a nice time with Reid. You just weren’t entirely sure if the feelings were reciprocated. Reid excused himself to the bathroom, where he quickly called Garcia. “Garcia, I need everything you have on Y/N.” 

Spencer, after being teased relentlessly by Garcia, would soon discover a lot about you. You were born in Y/H/T (your/home/town) and you studied, at a very young age, at Massachusetts Institute of Technology. You received perfect scores on both your ACT and SAT, and you had an IQ of 188. 

-

You studied last crime scene along with Prentiss and Reid, though it was getting dark. The most fresh, you noticed that some dirt nearby looked as if a body had been drug through it. This unsub, despite going through months of relentless physical and mental training - could not fully lift up the body of any of the victims. Instead, they had to be dragged to where the unsub wanted. None of the victims were presumed dead, which means the unsub was using them for something. Reid had disappeared, supposedly off into the crime scene further. 

“Prentiss, I think we’re missing something.” You announced, and she nodded, agreeing. “Do you think the unsub could be a woman?” Her eyes widened, but she nodded. You immediately called Garcia. “Garcia. I was wrong. I was convinced by the overwhelming statistics that this unsub was a male. I think this unsub’s a woman. Look for woman in the area that recently lost family members, possibly an officer and a child.” “On it, sista. I’ll hit you back.” 

In the meantime, Prentiss reached out to Derek, Rossi, and Hotch to discuss the profile. They all agreed with you wholeheartedly. However, there was something on your mind. Reid. He had completely disappeared from the crime scene. You were worried. You tried calling his cell, which you quickly learned, was a failure. The call went straight to voicemail. God. No. God fuck. Not one of your own. Prentiss and yourself immediately called Hotch, who told you to get back to the station as soon as possible. You headed there, your mind filled with thoughts of Dr. Reid. 

Hotch realized that delivering the profile was the most important in order to obtain Reid safely. “I believe the unsub is a younger woman, who’s looking for replacements from a lost husband and child.” You stated as soon as you approached. Hotch nodded, hoping you would slow down and become less anxious. You wouldn’t. You simply refused to. Reid was out there. He was in danger, on your watch. 

“She’s probably around Reid and I’s age, so 20-25. She must’ve lost the child and her husband in some sort of freak accident.” 

“What are you proposing, Y/N?” Derek asked quickly. 

“I think the unsub is using the officers to become pregnant.” You shivered in horror at your own words, anxious at what would be happening to Reid. “Ask around, ask the officers here if something happened to one of their coworkers. It could be on the federal level as well.” 

“We believe the unsub we’re looking for is a white female between the ages of 20-25. She recently lost a husband or partner, as well as a child. This loss has triggered a need for family once more. She has kidnapped several officers as well as an FBI agent. We believe she gains their trust by either impersonating an officer or by asking for help in some way. Then, she lures them towards her vehicle or a more convenient location, where she manages to blitz attack and kidnap them.” Hotch started. 

“This woman is in a very fragile state due to this loss, and can become very hostile and aggressive if she has what she wants taken away from her. Though she may not be armed when we find her, it is very important to be cautious around her.” Prentiss stated. 

While the rest of the team was giving the profile, you were hoping that Garcia would be able to ping Reid’s phone at some sort of location that could lead you to him. Unfortunately, the phone was dead and the process, therefore, was unable to receive any location from Spencer. You were scared out of your mind, and Penelope’s nervous energy didn’t help you much either. 

-

A call back from Penelope distracted you from your nervous thoughts. “Sugar, I’ve found something really interesting to peg your brain with. I’ll let Hotch know about this soon. All of the kidnapped victims are from Nevada.” “Okay - I’ll think on that Garcia, and let you know. Maybe crosscheck the families from before and find out which of those moved to Idaho from Nevada in the last few years?” “I already checked, baby, and nada. I’ll check with Hotch and the others to see if they have any ideas.” 

You soon met up with Derek, Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotch once more. They had gotten Garcia’s call, and they were brainstorming ideas on who the killer could be. Somewhere, somehow, the profile was incorrect. “Okay, if I was a kidnapper - I’m taking law enforcement personnel. To fill some kind of void. But why would I have to fill that void?” You asked. 

“This person obviously underwent some kind of loss. Somehow. We just need to figure it out.” Hotch spoke. 

“Do you think there was another victim, originally from Nevada?” Prentiss asked. The team nodded in agreement, and Derek dialed Garcia’s number. “Hey babygirl, we might have a lead. Do you have any victims from Nevada or Nevada cases that involved a male victim who was kidnapped?” He started. 

“Quite a few. You’re gonna have to give me a bit more than that, sugar.” Derek nodded, before Hotch stepped in. “Garcia, were any of the males law enforcement? Possibly unsolved?” “Yes, yes.” She started, “one Ryan Walker, a police officer, was victim - in Carson City Nevada. They did find the perpetrator, 16 year old Ashley Davey. She was visiting on a school trip. He was able to I.D. her, as she kidnapped and raped him using chloroform and - viagra to get him up. This was after he rejected her advances - looks like she lured him by asking for directions and then using a taser to knock him out. Apparently he tricked her into believing that they could be together, and she let him out of his restraints, he made a run for it and escaped.” 

“How was she able to keep him, Garcia?” Rossi asked, curious. “Looks like her Grandma and Grandpa owned some isolated property in Carson City, she stayed a few days after the trip had ended. She had a ticket back but didn’t use it. And - oh my god.” 

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch questioned her. “Apparently the sex with Mr. Walker was also unprotected, she gave birth to a baby boy 9 months later.” “Where is the child now?” “Joseph Davey is currently in foster care, after the mother was deemed unstable by the state. Walker filed a restraining order, and Ashley is not allowed to contact him in the slightest. She spent several years in a correctional facility for troubled teens and young adults - and she is currently residing in her parents’ home here in Boise.”

“Address please” you begged. “Sending it to you now.” 

You immediately rushed towards the door, waiting for the team to follow. Yes, it was late, but you were deeply worried about Spencer. Who knows what could be happening to him right now. You took off towards the address, and once you arrived, you immediately noticed a shed near the back. That had to be it. You and Derek headed towards the shed, while Rossi, Prentiss, and Hotch headed into the house. It took one simple kick from Morgan for the door to slam open. Inside, you found several men. The three police officers, all tied up but - relatively sound. Spencer was laying on a small cot in the corner of the room, tied to the bed. You immediately went to him. He was drowsy, in an almost relaxed state. Each of the men were stripped down to mere boxers, they looked very cold. Derek undid knots for the three officers, helping them outside. 

Meanwhile, you struggled. Spencer must’ve fought more - that’s why the knots were so tightly bound around his limbs. You also struggled with the strange state Spencer was in. As soon as you released one arm, his hand was around your waist. “I want to fuck you.” Spencer stated, and you continued to work at the second knot. “Reid, you’re in a hypnotic state. Don’t trust yourself.” The next thing you knew, Spencer’s hands were settling on your ass as you worked at the last two knots around his ankles. These two were a bit easier. You decided to let his hands be, what harm could they do? He was just in a delirious state, you told yourself. However, once you released the last of his limbs, he launched himself upon you, grinding a bit on your heat. “Reid, Reid, don’t do this-” It felt good, and yes, you liked him and were attracted to him. But not like this. Not with his fragile mental state and aphrodisiac coursing through his veins.

You somehow got Reid up off of you, and you slugged his top half over your shoulder, his legs walking next to you with ease. As you walked out of the shed, Morgan and a paramedic were waiting. They took Spencer off of your shoulders, and a huge weight was lifted. He’d be okay after being stabilized at the hospital. Morgan went to assist the others, and you got the okay from Hotch to ride with Reid to the nearest hospital. 

-

You were the one that Spencer woke up to. He saw your face immediately, smiling almost instantly. “You okay, Spence?” He nodded. “What happened?” “Well, um- Ashley Davey kidnapped you, along with the other officers. You were given a pretty hefty aphrodisiac, so you were really out of it when we got to you. But good news - they ran a rape kit on you and there was no evidence of rape or sexual assault. We think we got there just before it was about to happen.” You sighed. Spencer looked at you gratefully. “Thank you, Y/N. I’m sorry I ran off at the crime scene. I was feeling insecure.” He stated. 

“It’s okay, Reid. But why?” You questioned, and he sighed. “My IQ is only 187.” You had to hold in a fit of laughter. “Spencer. Oh my god.” He looked at you, puzzled. “Only 187. I know, it’s a number. And it’s wonderful it’s a measure of your intelligence and ability. However, you don’t have to let that number define you. We’re both, technically geniuses. But we have different interests, different specialties. Our IQs do not define who we are. Us geniuses have to stick together, not tear each other apart.” Spencer smiled at your remark. He felt drawn to you, to put it simply. He reached out towards you for a hug. Afterwards, he lingered just a bit, and you looked at him. He had to have something to say. “What is it?” You asked. 

“Y/N, could I take you out on a date when we get back to Quantico?” He looked at you hesitantly. You could tell he was nervous. “Spencer Reid, I would absolutely love that.” 

#criminal minds #criminal #minds #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #hotch #ssa emily prentiss #ssa jennifer jareau #ssa spencer reid #ssa aaron hotchner #ssa derek morgan #ssa david rossi #penelope garcia #spencer #reid #reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #reid x y/n #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #jennifer jareau

[lavenders-writing]

fine, you won't do all the soft asks? then do numbers 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 ,15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, and 40

omg ghshgsfhgs alrighty

cherry - what is your sexuality? questioning acespec

lollipop - favorite makeup products? eyeliner is fun to do! i also like blush it's fun too

daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be? honestly i'd probably choose to be the same person i am, minus the anxiety lmao. i kinda like where i am right now!

october - what month were you born in? coincidentally, october ahahha

caress - do you like to snuggle? FUCK YES

ivory - describe your pajamas? tank top and shorts or sweatpants

golden - favorite stationary product? hmmm i've never used stationary, actually!

freckles - most-worn article of clothing? my pjs lmao

twilight - best friend? hhfgfg don't make me choose i love all my friends very deeply <3

silk - do you like k-pop? aw hell yeah i do

poppy - favorite pastel color? pink and/or blue!!

dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face? i really like a person's eyes! they're all so different and prettyyyy

sunkissed - autumn or spring? autumn all the way, babyyyy

buttery - favorite snack? fuckin goldfish crackers hell yeahhh

whisper - how much sleep do you get? must i answer this question i feel like we all know,,, (6-7 on week days, 9-10 on weekends)

pencil - do you own a journal? i do! i use it to write stories and then i copy them over by hand onto my google docs lol

cupcake - are you a good cook? no <3

honey - favorite term of endearment? omg i have many: "my love"; "dear"; "my sweet"; "sweetie"; "dearly beloved"; "*thick russian accent* COMRADE"

clouds - describe one of your favorite dreams? one of my favorite dreams was when i dreamt about seeing some family in another state except everything was slightly off (one of my cousins and i were laughing at a statue of a penguin that looked like it was from Club Penguin)

velvet - who was your first crush? fictional or real? fictional: nico di angelo shfdhf. real: a guy in second grade :)

paper - favorite children’s book? honestly probably "let me count the ways i love you" (at least i think that's the name)

peaches - do you have a skincare routine? nope

mochi - favorite studio ghibli film? howl's moving castle!!!!

backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend? no, but i had an imaginary cat lmao

strawberry - favorite fruit? raspberries or apples or peaches or blackberries or

kiss - have you ever kissed a friend? no, i am incredibly lonely romance-wise and actually had a dream a couple nights ago that i got kissed by some guy and i woke up craving getting kissed

nightlight - do you read before bed? i used to but now i find it hard to concentrate on the book, so i either read fic, write, or draw!

shampoo - favorite scent? lavender or mint!

skin - what distant relative are you closest to? a cousin on my dad's side (the one i laughed at the Club Penguin statue with)

aphrodite - favorite actress/actor? hmmm uhhh no idea actually

cuddles - do you have any pets? i have two cats who i love very dearly <3

lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite? oooo i got this cute blue dress recently that i really like but i also have a semi-sleeveless black one i love

sheets - sanrio or san-x characters? no idea!

cream - frozen yogurt flavor? ooo good question hmmmm idk

watermelon - do films ever make you cry? all the time. i watched the second bnha movie in theaters last year with @ljunderscore and sobbed

sapphos - favorite poet? no idea!

plush - how many stuffed animals do you still own? a fuck-ton

roses - what flower do you find most beautiful? i really like jasmine and lavender

sweetheart - favorite mug/cup? a mug i painted with my sister on her birthday!

sunset - what are your pronouns? she/her!

#asks #ljunderscore #lav's moots #i did all 40 for u shjdshg

[glenncoco4]

What Happens Next?

A/N: Chapter 12

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had a feeling this day would come sooner or later. Her husband being the Assistant District Attorney, her team doing what they do...that and the fact that she’s almost 5 months pregnant and starting to show, this meeting was inevitable. So here she is, sitting in the court room as her man does his thing, Sam and Callen nowhere to be found. Just as Marty calls his next witness, the ex-Navy SEAL and his partner make their way into the semi-quite room, taking their seats on the empty bench behind the two brunettes.

After the prosecution brings about new evidence, the judge calls recess until the next morning. Marty smiles, sending his wife a wink. He likes to show off in front of her, and he’s super glad that he does’t have to miss their afternoon plans.

As the rest of the team walks into the rotunda, Kensi stands at the door in wait for Marty to wrap up what he’s doing with his colleagues. She exchanges pleasantries with the familiar faces as they begin to trickle out the door until the golden locks finally appear in front of her. “You ready for this?”

“You talking about you meeting my team or finding out the gender of this peanut?”

“Either…both?”

“Both. Definitely both.”

“Did you talk to Talia?”

“Yeah, she’s more excited about seeing the looks on Sam and Callen’s faces than I am.”

Sam and Callen watch on as their teammate and the lawyer have a conversation, sharing smiles. Curiosity getting the best of them.

The ex-Navy SEAL turns to the other brunette of the team, his brow furrowed. “Hey, Talia, I didn’t know Kensi was so chummy with the ADA.”

All she does is smile, shrugging at the question about two of her best friends. God this is gonna be good.

“If he’s as smooth with the ladies as he is in the court room then I’d half expect to see him more often.” Callen takes in Kensi’s sudden change in demeanor as she continues to talk to the lawyer. She almost seems less tense…happier even.

“I guess sooner than we expected.”

Talia turns her attention to see her partner and the ADA walk towards them, a knowing smile on her face.

Once they reach her teammates, they exchange smiles before Sam stretches his hand out in greeting. “Hey, nice work in there, man.”

Marty returns the smile as he takes his offered hand. This may be funnier than his wife imagined. “Thanks.”

“Eh, I’ve seen better.” Talia spirts, playfully challenging the lawyer.

He raises his brow, accepting her challenge. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I was in court last week when James destroyed that blonde lawyer.”

“First of all that was a debate and second of all-“

“Miss Congeniality is better than A League of Their Own, yeah, yeah.” Talia rolls her eyes, knowing exactly what was about to come out of his mouth. It had been one Friday night where the couples couldn’t decide what to watch so both Marty and James decide to take the matter to ‘court,’ court being the Deeks’ living room.

Sam and Callen exchange a look before spreading their attention between the other three. “Are we missing something here?”

“Yeah, do you guys know each other?” Callen follows up with his own question.

“Oh, yeah, I met Marty here awhile ago. He actually set me and my husband up.”

Affronted by her partner’s words, Kensi feigns outrage. “Hey!”

“What?”

The agent looks at her partner as if she reminding her that she was there as well even though it was her husband’s idea.

Talia just rolls her eyes, turning back to Sam and Callen. “Sorry. And his wife.”

“Oh, so you’re married.” Sam states.

Marty’s eyes light up at the mention of the woman who he’s so deeply in love with that sometimes it’s sickening to others. 6 years together, 3 years married, a kid with one on the way…yeah, he’s smiling. “Yeah. Going on 3 years now.”

Callen takes in Kensi’s smile, caught off guard because he really thought she was flirting the lawyer earlier. “And how do you know him?”

“Actually he and his wife set me and my guy up as well.” The brunette bites back a smile as she hears her husband and partner try and stifle their laughter. She shouldn’t be having this much fun, but it’s pretty great knowing something that these two “operators” think they have figured out.

Sam’s brow furrows, mirroring his partner, both clearly lost. “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

As if on cue, Talia catches sight of the clock on the wall. Perfect timing. “Hey, don’t you have the-“

Marty looks at his watch, a birthday present from his wife, and his heart picks up speed, seeing the time. “Oh, yeah, didn’t realize the time." In a couple of hours they should know the gender of their peanut and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hoping for a little girl. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Shaking each of the men’s hand, Marty begins to walk off towards the entrance before turning around, noticing that his wife isn’t following. “Um, baby?”

At the sound of her husband calling for her, she turns her head, a questioning look across his face when it hits her. “Oh, right. Mommy brain.” Shaking her head, she bids her teammates a farewell, not missing the deer in headlights look written across the ex-Navy SEAL and former spook’s faces.

“Wait, you two?”

The pregnant agent raises her arms in victory as she walks towards her laughing husband.Yeah, that was fun.

XXXX

Kensi finds herself practically being drug into the ocean front shop by her husband, much like she was 2 years ago. This was their plan from the get go but after her doctor’s appointment, Marty got even more excited. She can’t help but laugh at their attire, he in a 3 piece suit and she in pencil skirt and blouse. They definitely don’t look like the usual customers.

As soon as they step through the doors, the blonde lawyer makes a b-line to the tiny surf boards, already knowing exactly what he’s getting.

The agent watches in amazement as her husband walks straight up to a board and takes it off the rack. “You weren’t kidding when you said we wouldn’t be long.”

Heat rises to his cheeks at her words. “I may have scoped out ahead of time to make sure they had one in stock.”

She gives him a knowing look, a grin playing at her lips at how adorable he is, but also not believing him for a minute.

“Okay, so maybe I came in yesterday to stare at it.”

“You’re cute. You know that?” Leaning forward, her lips find his. A smile plays at his lips as he leans in for one more. Yep, adorable.

Carrying the board under one arm, his free hand finds her, intertwining their fingers as they make their way to the familiar face behind the counter.

“Hey, guys.”

“Hey, Mark. It's been awhile.”

The shaggy brunette sends the couple a smile. “A few months, and I see congratulations are in order.” He takes the piece of fiberglass from the lawyer much like he did two years ago but this time there’s one distinct difference. “Purple Channel Island. So you got yourself a little Betty on the way.”

“Yeah."

Kensi looks at her husband, seeing the dreamy look across his face and turns back to Mark unable to keep the smile off her own face. “He’s been like this ever since the doctor confirmed it an hour ago.”

“Understandable.” He nods, knowing first hand what Marty’s feeling. “So, the same font and color as Finn’s board or do you guys want to switch it up?”

She shares a knowing look with her husband giving him the go ahead. “Same.”

“Alright, if I can get the name.”

As the couple’s baby girl’s name comes off Kensi's lips, Mark types the letters, and clicks the mouse a few times. Once he’s pleased, he turns the screen to the couple, giving them a nice view of what the board will look like once completed. “So this is the rendering. If everything looks good, I’ll get started on it tomorrow and call you when it’s ready.”

“That’s great. Thanks, Mark.”

“You’re definitely welcome, guys. And hey, bring little dude by and we’ll set him up with one of our new baby training boards.”

“They make those?” Marty’s brow furrows.

“It’s pretty new technology but Kelly Slater uses it with his little one so I’d say it’s pretty reliable.”

“Cool. We’ll stop by this weekend.” Kensi takes hold of her husband’s hand, now the one pulling him to the entrance because if she doesn’t they’ll be here all day and she’s really hungry.

“See you guys.”

Once they step onto the board walk, the fresh evening air hits them, her arms immediately encircling one of his. “How about we go pick up Finn and then have dinner at the pier?”

His lips find her forehead. “I like the way you think, my love.”

#Densi #Densi Fanfic #AU #Kensi Deeks #Marty Deeks #Talia DelCampo #Sam Hanna #G Callen #NCIS: LA Fanfic #NCIS: LA

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 19

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18

Chapter 19

ONCE THE EXCITEMENT of Christmas and New Years passed, it was back to their regular schedules. Luna was back at school, Aspen was working at the clinic, and Calum was in the city making sure his club was up to par and regularly meeting with the staff and vendors and the like. Aspen felt like she hadn’t been to work in so long, easily smiling at the regular patients she often saw, her maternal empathy kicking in every time a kid was trying hard to fight a fever, flu, or the like.

Right when her break was finished, crumbling up the bag she’d brought her sandwich in and throwing it out, her phone began ringing. At the sight of Calum’s name and picture, she instantly picked it up. “What’s up?”

“Sweetheart, hey,” Calum’s breathless voice responded, sounding as though he was either running or panicked. “Listen, shit, is there any way you can pick up Luna? There’s an issue with one of the vendors and I need to sort it out—I don’t think I can make it back to Jersey in time for pick up.”

“Uh—” Aspen’s eyes widened, darting to the clock on the wall. Luna’s school ended in a little less than half an hour, and with her break almost over, she definitely didn’t have the time. Not to mention not a lot of the staff was scheduled for today, and the clinic needed all the help it could get. “No, crap, I can’t,” she stammered, pressing her hand to her hairline in worry.

“Fuck,” Calum cursed, sounding justifiably panicked. Aspen didn’t blame him; things like this happened, neither of them could control life.

She licked her lips. “Hold on, I don’t think Jodie works today. Let me ask if she can pick Luna up.” There was a reason why her best friend was one of her daughter’s emergency contacts.

Calum let out a breath, not entirely relieved until he knew there was something to be relieved about. “Alright, let me know, yeah? I’m sorry, love.”

A soft chuckle escaped Aspen. “It’s okay, Cal. Let me text Jodie.”

He offered a quick goodbye and Aspen immediately went to texting her best friend, chewing on her lower lip and hoping for a miracle. She tapped her foot against the floor impatiently, knowing she had to get back out there in a little bit, watching the three little bubbles appear as Jodie wrote her text.

Yeah, no problem! I gotchu, sis.

A sigh of relief escaped Aspen, hissing out a quiet and victorious, “yes!” before thanking her friend and letting Calum know all was taken care of. He responded asking what Jodie’s favorite wine was as a thank you.

Aspen laughed, pocketing her phone before heading back to the nurse’s station, grabbing the file for the next patient ready to be seen. The next few hours of her shift seemed to fly by, and soon enough she was bidding goodbye to coworkers that still had some hours left and was on her way home. The short drive ended with her pulling into the parking lot of her building, letting out an amused laugh when she glanced to her left and caught sight of Calum’s Range Rover pulling up next to her. He noticed her right away, grinning and throwing up a peace sign from where he sat.

“Hi, baby,” Aspen greeted as they both got out of their cars, her tone a melodic tune as she smiled when he jogged over, arm dropping around her shoulders. “Everything work out with the vendor?”

Calum quickly pecked her lips as they approached the building. “Yeah, ’s all good,” he reassured.

When he opened the door for Aspen, allowing her to walk into the complex, it was then when she saw the bag he was holding and let out a laugh. “You actually got Jodie’s wine?”

Calum scoffed as the elevator opened up immediately, shooting her a bemused look. “Can’t believe you thought I was kidding.”

Reaching the door, Aspen used her keys to unlock it and they stepped inside the apartment as Aspen called out, “We’re home!”

Jodie emerged from the kitchen, smiling at the two as she sipped from a glass of water. “Hey guys; how was work?” Before either of them could answer, her gaze happened to drop, raising her eyebrows as she instinctively asked, “Is that a bottle of red?”

Calum, whose lips were parted to respond to her first question, looked down at the bag before letting out a laugh. “Yeah, it is. For you,” he said, holding it out for a confused Jodie to take. “As a thank you for the last minute baby sitting.”

“Oh, please, anything for my godchild,” Jodie scoffed before holding the bag close to her chest, grinning. “I’ll still take it. Thanks, Calum.” Aspen chuckled as her boyfriend merely grinned, yet Jodie’s smile quickly faltered as she looked at the two parents worriedly. “But, you guys, something’s up with Luna. She’s been kind of down ever since I picked her up.”

Instantly, both Aspen and Calum went into concerned mode. “Did she say why?” Aspen asked as she put her bag down on the couch, eyebrows drawing together as she looked at her best friend.

Jodie gave a shake of her head and pursed her lips. “No; I tried to get it out of her but she wouldn’t budge. She ate some mac and cheese when we got back and did her homework and now she’s coloring in the dining room but, like, not a word.” Running her fingers through her hair, she added with a regretful sigh, “I would’ve texted you guys but I didn’t want you to worry while at work, and I didn’t expect her to keep it in this long.”

Aspen’s eyes dart to where the dining room was, the wall obstructing her view, as Calum sighed. “It’s okay, Jodie, thanks. We’ll see what’s up—you wanna stay for dinner?”

“Thanks, but I gotta get going,” Jodie denied with a smile, moving to grab her bag. “Lemme know how it goes.”

Aspen hugged her best friend. “Thanks, Jodie,” she said gratefully and once Jodie was gone, Aspen was on her way to the dining room, Calum right behind her.

They walked around to see Luna sitting on a chair, the overhead light bright as she colored away in one of her many books. Color pencils were strewn about on the table, and Aspen felt a worried thud in her chest when Luna didn’t even look up as Calum greeted gently, “Hey, bug.”

Instead, the five year old kept her head down, lazily—sadly—coloring as she responded in the smallest voice, “Hi.”

Aspen looked up at Calum, a silent worry present between them, before the two made their way over to their daughter. She settled to Luna’s right when Calum took the seat on her left, Aspen glancing down to see Duke sitting under the table, before looking at Luna again. Her dark curls sat thickly around her shoulders, not quite allowing Aspen to see the little girl’s face, and so she reached up and gently tucked some of Luna’s curls behind her ears. “Baby.” Her voice was soft, gentle, ducking her head to try and get a look at Luna. “Why are you sad?”

Luna gave a small shake of her head, eyes still on the coloring page. Aspen felt her chest tighten at Luna’s refusal to even look at them, her own eyebrows drawing together in distress. “I’m not sad,” Luna mumbled. Her tone contradicted her words.

Calum rested his left elbow on the table, facing the little girl as he tried gently, “It’s okay if you are. Maybe we can help.”

She was silent for a few moments, continuing her coloring, the worry in both Calum and Aspen increasing by the second. They looked at each other over Luna’s head, both of their gazes nothing but concerned, snapping back to Luna when they heard a sniffle emit from her. They shifted, ducking their heads, and when Aspen pushed some of Luna’s hair out of her face, she felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach when she noticed the pink on Luna’s cheeks and nose, and the wetness from the tears falling from her green eyes.

Aspen’s breath caught in her throat, a panic bubbling in her veins as she softly gasped, “Oh, baby,” before wrapping her arms around Luna. The five year old let go of the coloring pencil, allowing her mother to pull her in with her back pressed against Aspen’s front. She held Luna comfortingly, Calum’s own expression worry and panic stricken as he shuffled forward to sit in Luna’s now vacant chair, facing her as Aspen lowered her head to still take a look at her. “Tell us what’s wrong, bub. Please?”

Luna’s head still hung low and the ache in Aspen’s chest intensified the longer the silence dragged on, especially when it was broken by Luna’s sniffles, and Aspen looked at Calum. He looked just as alarmed, unsettled by the sight of an obviously distressed Luna, and Aspen gently bounced her knee in hopes of calming the little girl.

Luna sucked in a breath before she began speaking, her voice a quiet mumble, too upset to speak up. “B-Brooke gave all the kids cards to her birthday a-and I didn’t get o-one.”

Aspen inhaled sharply at her words, feeling an aggravated fire ignite in her bones, just barely replacing the worry over her daughter. Of fucking course Bailey Clarkson’s daughter would have something to do with Luna’s distressed mood, and despite the anger brimming her veins, Aspen’s heart went out to her daughter. Her jaw clenched, eyes meeting Calum’s, who looked just as indignant as she felt. Though the circumstances were vastly different, Aspen knew what it was like to feel unwanted, and she absolutely despised that her daughter was feeling this way, and that someone had gone out of their way to make her feel so. And while she couldn’t entirely set her anger towards another five year old, she sure as hell could call out her mother.

When it was Luna’s birthday a few months ago, Aspen had made sure to write out invitations to every classmate of Luna’s—including Brooke Clarkson. When Luna had asked her why, Aspen had told her daughter it would be mean to give every kid an invitation and not Brooke, and Luna had understood. She didn’t want the mean girl to feel bad, so she didn’t argue against Aspen. That only left Aspen wondering how she’d gotten such a good little kid. Of course, Brooke didn’t show up to Luna’s party, which was barely noticed given that Luna was surrounded by family and other friends. But at least an invitation had gotten to Brooke; at least she didn’t feel left out when Luna handed hers out to her classmates.

And for it to come around like this pissed Aspen off. She had a good feeling that Luna was probably the only one in their class that Brooke didn’t give an invitation to, and while the little girl probably didn’t know any better, her mother sure as hell did. To go out of their way to make Luna feel like this. . . The rage in Aspen’s veins was unstable.

But she was pulled out of it as Luna cried, and Aspen pushed her anger aside to hug her daughter, pulling Luna’s back into her chest and burying her face in the small crook of Luna’s neck. “Oh, bub, I’m so sorry,” she murmured, one hand coming up to push Luna’s hair out of the way.

Calum leaned forward, his hands grasping Luna’s smaller ones, but before he could offer his own reassurances, Luna hiccuped, “I invi-invited her to my birthday. I was the only one who didn’t get a card for hers.”

Aspen’s jaw clenched. She was about a second away from calling Bailey and cursing that woman out.

“That just means you care more about other people’s feelings, bug,” Calum told her, his voice soft and smooth. It wasn’t his objective, but his tone was calming Aspen down from her rage. She hoped it was helping Luna, too. His dark eyes were warm as he peered at his daughter, and Aspen could see him try to hide his own struggle of pushing aside how upset he was to see Luna so distraught. Bringing Luna’s hands up, he pressed a kiss on her knuckles and said, “Not everyone’s as nice as you are.”

He was good at sugar coating it. Aspen really just wanted to drop the B-word on both Bailey and her snot-nosed brat.

Luna wasn’t shaking as much, her cries dying down as she sniffled through a now stuffy nose, and the tightness in Aspen’s chest had yet to loosen up. The ball in her throat also made it difficult to breathe, her disbelief and indignance over this entire situation wildly unsettling. But appearing calm and comforting for her daughter was her priority.

So Aspen took another breath, head still next to Luna’s as she tried to get her mind off of this. “Come on, baby, do you want dinner? We can order pizza or McDonalds—whatever you want.”

Luna reached up to rub at her eyes to rid of the tears, and Calum reached up to cup her small face in his large hands to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks with his thumbs, offering a gentle smile. A moment later, Luna answered, “McDonalds.”

“Alright; you finish coloring and we’ll order the food, bug,” Calum said, taking Luna from Aspen’s lap as he stood up, placing the five year old back in her chair and kissing the top of her head.

Aspen got up as well, sucking in a sharp breath and walking into the kitchen as Duke hopped up on her chair. Calum was right behind her, and as soon as she knew they were out of Luna’s range of hearing, Aspen hissed out, “I’m gonna fucking break Bailey Clarkson’s fake nose.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Calum’s calm voice spoke up from behind her, hands on Aspen’s rigid shoulders as he came to appear in front of her. He looked down at his girlfriend, took in her tight features and fiery eyes, and added, “Let’s order dinner before Googling how to get rid of a body.”

Aspen grunted incoherently, pulling out her phone and going on the UberEats app as she muttered, “I went to nursing school; I can figure out how to get rid of a body.” She was halfway through putting in their order when she started waving around her phone, her thoughts raging. “I just—I can’t believe this bullshit,” Aspen ranted, a glare forming on her face as she stared at Calum indignantly. “Her daughter bullied Luna and now she’s just feeding into it!”

“Sweetheart,” Calum spoke up, trying to be the more tranquil one in this situation. Aspen knew he was just as disgruntled, offended, outraged as her, but he was trying to be the voice of reason for their benefit. They couldn’t have two murderous parents in this moment. “Even if Luna got invited, would you have let her gone?”

Aspen scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “That’s not the point, Calum. We still invited that little troll to Luna’s party because, as a mother, I wouldn’t want a kid to feel bad. Apparently Bailey doesn’t have the same consideration for Luna.”

“I—wait,” Calum paused, holding up a finger as he blinked under furrowed eyebrows before a scoff that was all too amused escaped him. “Did you just call a five year old a-a troll?”

Not her finest moment, but Aspen stood by it. “She made Luna cry. She’s a troll,” she deadpanned before grunting in annoyance and completing the order. It’d arrive in half an hour. Putting her phone away, Aspen looked up at Calum once more, her shoulders sinking under his touch as she let out a breath. Her expression fell as well as she rolled her lips into her mouth. “A little girl should never feel so. . . Unwanted.” Aspen’s gaze dropped to her feet, and suddenly there was a burning in her eyes she wasn’t aware she had been holding back. More to herself than Calum, Aspen whispered, “I never wanted Luna to feel that way.”

It’s part of why she ran. She had felt unwanted, her own fear and insecurities playing into it, and she didn’t want her baby to feel that way. Ever. And yet, Aspen hadn’t been able to uphold that responsibility.

Calum was not lost as to what Aspen was alluding to, and now his heart ached not just for his daughter, but for his girlfriend, too. And while he wasn’t a mind reader, he knew Aspen all too well, could read her by her facial expressions, and knew exactly what was running through that brain of hers. “We can’t protect her from everything, doll,” Calum murmured, his hands sliding from her shoulders to cup her cheeks, prompting her to lift her head up. “She’ll get past this, yeah?” He smiled softly, thumbs rubbing at Aspen’s cheeks. “She’s tough, just like her mama.”

Aspen let out a breath, lips quirking at Calum’s words as her green eyes remained on his brown. She gave a subtle nod, telling him she acknowledged and was appreciative of what he said. Then, with all seriousness, she added, “Her mama’s gonna fight a bitch, too.”

Calum smirked. “That’s hot.”

*****

“You didn’t have to come too, ya know.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about; I just wanna see my daughter.”

Aspen rolled her eyes until they landed on Calum, standing next to her, waiting for the final bell of the day to ring to let out all the elementary schoolers. “You can see her at home,” she pointed out matter-of-factly.

Calum made it a point not to look at her, comically so, as he kept his gaze, hidden behind sunglasses, on the building ahead and hushed her. It only served to make Aspen scoff with a shake of her head. She knew he was here to make sure she didn’t completely lose it in the courtyard of the school at Bailey Clarkson. Calum’s concern was justified, Aspen knew, but still. She knew better than to—

“Oh! Aspen! There you are!”

She took a deep breath, long and bracing, feeling Calum tense up next to her as she turned her head, sunglasses protecting her from the rays above. The devil herself, Mrs. Bailey Clarkson, was approaching them in heels Aspen kind of hoped she would slip on against the ice. As if he could feel the blood in Aspen’s veins beginning to boil, Calum took a step closer towards her while murmuring quietly, “Please don’t throw any punches.”

Aspen puckered her lips briefly, indignantly. “No promises.” Calum merely sighed. She didn’t even bother plastering on a fake friendly smile as Bailey approached.

“Gosh, I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” she reckoned as she came to a stop in front of them, her laugh couldn’t possibly be sounding more fake if she tried. Her own eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, one arm crossed over her as the strap of her purse hung by the crook of her elbow. Bailey’s eyebrows raised as she continued, “I heard you were in a terrible accident—good to see you back on your feet.”

Next to her, Aspen felt Calum tense at the mention of one of the scariest moments in both of their lives. Aspen, on the other hand, fought to roll her eyes. Many of the other parents had at least called or texted Aspen, giving her their well wishes, some even so far as bringing over food for their little family. Still, Aspen kept a straight face towards Bailey as she responded, “Better than ever.” Taking a small breath, Aspen began, “Actually, Bailey, I wanted to talk to you about—”

Bailey cut her off with her gaze flickering to the sky as she sounded, “Oh,” with a wave of her hand. “I was going to talk to you about that.” Aspen watched as a sympathetic expression washed over her face, one that she knew to be utterly fake and dismissive. Lacing her fingers together, Bailey continued, “I hope you don’t mind about Brooke not inviting Luna to her birthday. With the girls having trouble with each other in class, I figured you’d appreciate me taking the measures of keeping them out of more of it.”

Oh, of course she thought she was doing everyone a favor by alienating Luna.

“It’s not a matter of attending the party, Mrs. Clarkson—it’s a matter of receiving an invitation at all,” Calum said, his own tone hard and void of much emotion. He lifted his chin, looking down at the woman. “Brooke had gotten an invitation to Luna’s birthday.” With his eyebrows drawing together, he asked, “You don’t think it was unfair that Luna was the only kid in their class to not get an invite?”

“Well, I—” Bailey scoffed out a laugh, gaze darting between Calum and Aspen behind her sunglasses. With a shake of her head and a shrug of one shoulder, she surmised, “I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal.”

Aspen’s jaw tightened, skin warming from the anger she could feel brimming. The rage was barely contained in her voice as she shot back, “You didn’t think it’d be a big deal to purposefully make Luna feel bad by leaving her out?”

Bailey’s lips parted, having the gall to appear incredulous as she eyed Aspen up and down before remarking, “No wonder Luna’s such a sensitive kid.”

Aspen felt Calum’s hand on her lower back, grounding her from the anger quickly rising, but she remained calm. She didn’t want to give Bailey Clarkson the satisfaction of getting under her skin. So she offered a smile, completely fake in its sweetness as she returned, “And it looks the rotten apple didn’t fall far from the tree in your family.” With a tilt of her head and a condescending smile, Aspen added, “God knows what kind of woman your daughter will become with you as a mother.”

That had Bailey’s expression falling from behind the shield of her sunglasses, a tightness in her features as she indignantly stammered out, “I-I beg your pardon?”

The woman was rendered speechless, completely bewildered and outraged by Aspen’s comment, which only granted her tremendous satisfaction just as the final bell rang at 11:45, signalling the end of the school day that was actually cut in half for teachers’ workshop. Next to Aspen, Calum piped up dismissively, “School’s out. Excuse us, Mrs. Clarkson.”

With one last smile at Bailey, Aspen followed Calum to take a few steps closer towards the building, feeling Bailey’s heated glare burning at the backs,  as the doors opened and kids began filing out. His arm found Aspen’s shoulders, pulling her into him as he said in a low rasp, “That was way hotter than any ass kicking.”

Aspen let out a short laugh, her right arm going around his waist as they waited for Luna to come out. “I think that was one of the most satisfying moments of my life,” she hummed thoughtfully just as they caught sight of Luna leaving the building, her ponytail bouncing behind her as she approached her parents.

“Hi, bug,” Calum grinned, letting go of Aspen to crouch down and pick up Luna, settling her on his hip. He kissed her cheek, eliciting a smile from the little girl, as he asked, “How was school?”

Luna nodded as Aspen took off her backpack. “Good. We have show and tell next week. Can I bring Duke?”

“Uh,” Calum paused, looking at Aspen for a moment as she raised her eyebrows, and Calum let out a nervous chuckle as he said, “We’ll see, bug. Duke can be a little unfriendly sometimes.”

Lune tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing together in childish confusion. “He’s not unfriendly with me?”

Aspen chuckled as they continued to where the car was parked, looking at Calum as he took this one. He merely grinned, poking Luna’s stomach as he told her truthfully, “That’s ’cause he loves you,” as Luna giggled happily.

They reached the car and Calum opened the backdoor, getting Luna inside and buckling her in before shutting the door. He looked at Aspen over the roof of the Range Rover, raising his eyebrows as he smiled at her. “Ready for today?”

She returned the grin, her excitement bright in her green eyes. “Hell yeah.”

*****

The bumper car collided with Aspen’s, a laughing oof escaping her as the sound of Luna’s giggles reached her ears. “We got you, Mama!” she cheered from where she sat in the yellow bumper car with Calum.

Next to Aspen, Mariam giggled as her aunt huffed, “Traitor!”

They enjoyed themselves, hitting bumper car after bumper car, and Aspen hadn’t really expected herself to have fun in this setting because of what happened. But bumper cars were vastly different than an actual car accident, and Luna’s giggles along with her nieces’, as well as Jodie and the boys’ laughter made for a much lighter experience. Colorful lights surrounded the bumper car arena, as well as the entirety of Bryant Park where Aspen and Calum had decided to bring Luna.

Seeing her so upset the other night had their hearts breaking, so the two of them decided to do something special for her, and since today she had a half day at school and it was the middle of the week, it worked out perfectly. So they called Jodie and the boys, as well as Rich to see if he’d bring the twins, and they all ended up at Bryant Park, which had been transformed into a winter village. Except Rich couldn’t make it, staying back with a pregnant Laila, so Aspen and Calum picked up Nadia and Mariam before taking them to the city.

They’d all stopped at one of the holiday shops and bought hot chocolate with marshmallows to top them with before the girls—and Michael—spotted the bumper cars. Aspen shouldn’t have been surprised when Calum pulled her aside and asked if she was okay to go in them; he’d always been one of the most considerate people she’d ever met, so the fact that his concern for Aspen and whatever trauma she may still have from the car accident tied into her getting into a bumper car had both taken her aback and also melted her heart.

Then she’d proceeded to say she was gonna kick his ass at bumper cars, and the challenge had been set.

“Mama, we beat you!” Luna cheered as they all got out of their cars, grinning up at her mother as she bounced on her feet.

“You beat me?” Aspen repeated in a shocked, disbelieving tone for her benefit. She scoffed, picking up Luna and resting her on her hip as they began walking. “No, no, I think I beat you.” Leaning towards her, Aspen’s eyes flickered to Calum, who was giving Mariam a few quarters so she could play with one of the claw machines to win herself a toy. Loud enough for her boyfriend to hear, Aspen added, “Your dad’s a terrible driver.”

Calum’s gaze met hers, jaw dropping in offense as Jodie and Luke snickered at his expense. Michael, Ashton and Nadia were too busy cheering Mariam on. “I’m a terrible driver?” Calum repeated, walking towards them with a challenging raise of his eyebrows. With a smirk, he added, “Sounds like you’re projecting, love.”

Aspen scoffed as Calum dropped his arm around her shoulders, chuckling when she playfully shoved him away. “Shut up.”

Luna’s lips formed an O, wide green eyes on her mother as she cutely chastised, “Shut up is a bad word, Mama.”

Aspen pressed her lips together, her own eyes widening in childish surprise as Calum met her exaggerated gaze with one of his own, and he gave a shake of his head and clicked his tongue. “Mama’s got a potty mouth,” Calum taunted.

Luna then shifted, and Aspen felt her heart swell when her daughter gave her a kiss to her lips, pulling back with a toothy grin as she declared, “All clean!”

She warmed her parents instantly as Calum’s expression softened at the adorable action, and Luna was oblivious to the effect she had on her mom and dad as she asked, “I wanna see Mariam play.”

Aspen let her down as Luna ran over to where everyone else was cheering on Mariam, and she gave a shake of her head as she looked at Calum, who had yet to look away from their daughter. Aspen let out a sigh as she leaned her head against Calum’s shoulder. “Sometimes it fucking hurts how much I love her.”

She felt Calum let out a gentle, short agreeing chuckle, arm still hooked around her shoulders. Then, with a playful lilt, he stated, “You said a bad word again.” Aspen scoffed, lips quirking, as Calum’s free hand reached up and he gently grasped her chin with his fingers, pulling her face towards him. He closed the distance with his lips capturing hers in a slow, sweet kiss that Aspen instinctively melted into, humming approvingly against the softness of Calum’s lips and the warmth of his touch. He pulled away too soon with one last peck and he murmured through a smile, “All clean.”

Aspen laughed, heart fluttering as they pulled away, and with a teasing grin she said, “That’s kind of gross, when you think about it.”

Calum scoffed, rolling his dark eyes as he chastised jokingly, “Don’t ruin an adorable bit our daughter created.”

She giggled once again. “Sorry, sorry.” Her gaze swept over to the claw machine where everyone was gathered around, cheering as Mariam won herself a little purple hippo. Luke put in some quarters and then proceeded to help Nadia try to win a stuffed animal for herself, and Aspen knew it was only a matter of minutes until it was Luna’s turn. She took in the grin of her daughter as Ashton held her in his arms so she could watch the claw, and Aspen relaxed against Calum. Quietly, she said, “She looks happy.”

“Yeah; all thanks to you, love,” Calum said, rubbing her arm soothingly. When he looked down at her, Aspen could see the delight swimming in his dark eyes, the warmth in his smile as he added proudly, “You’re quite the mama bear.” Then, with his lips just barely brushing the shell of her ear, he added in a low rasp, “She’s lucky to have you.”

Aspen’s grin widened, a warmth in her cheeks, the heat of Calum’s body far more comforting than the layers she had on. He kissed her temple, arm around her giving her a squeeze as he finished earnestly, “We both are.”

--

tags: @irwinkitten @sweetcherrymike @meetashthere @valentinelrh @softforcal @astroashtonio @hereforlukescruff @novacanecalum @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @singt0mecalum @hopelessxcynic @lfwallscouldtalk @bodhi-black @findingliam-o @softlrh @calntynes @calumsmermaid @erikamarie41 @quintodosuniversos @longlastingdaydream @babylon-corgis @lukehemmingsunflower @imfuckin10plybud @pastelpapermoons @conquerwhatliesahead92 @rotten-kandy @metangi @neigcthood @ohhmuke @old-zeppelin-shirt @5sos-and-hessa @trustmeimawhalebiologist @vxlentinecal @pettybassists @vaporshawn @lu-my-golden-boi @visualm3nte @isabella-mae13 @dontjinx-it @lifeakaharry @neonweeknds @antisocialbandmate @ixcantxdecidexwhosxmyxfave @calpalbby @grreatgooglymoogly @sunnysidesblog @gorgeouslygrace @cocktail-calum @miahelizaaabeth @madelynerin @dramallamawithsparkles​ @theagenderwhocriedwolf​ @kaytiebug14​ @hoodskillerqueen​ @bitchinbabylon​ @empathycth​ @xhaileyreneex​ @inlovehoodx​ @aestheticrelated​ @bloodlinecal​ @sublimehood​ @madbomb​ @raabiac​ @britnicole11​ @outofmylimitcal​ @fluffsshawn​ @bloodmoonashton​ @vxidhood​ @tea4sykes @lukeinblue​ @mysteriouslycali​ @hoodcentral​ @rosecoloredash​ @hearts-to-the-sky​

#calum hood #calum hood one shot #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #calum hood blurb #calum hood blurbs #calum hood fanfic #calum hood fic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #5sos one shot #5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurb #5sos blurbs #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #ashton irwin one shot #luke hemmings one shot #michael clifford one shot #ashton irwin imagine #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford imagine #ashton irwin blurb #luke hemmings blurb #michael clifford blurb #ashton irwin imagines

[ruewrites]

We’re Blooming Together Chapter 2: Your Secret

AO3

Ship: Solomon/Asmo

Word Count: 2338

Warnings: None

Chapter 1-Chapter 2-Chapter 3-Chapter 4-Chapter 5-Chapter 6-Chapter 7-Chapter 8-Chapter 9-Chapter 10-Chapter 11-Chapter 12 

Asmo couldn’t decide if he thought Solomon’s lips would be rough or soft. Honestly, either one would be fine. What ultimately mattered was he was a good kisser. Of course, Asmo didn’t know really, but he’d heard from his past girlfriends.  He’d heard more from them as well. He dreamed of him every now and again, sometimes they were odd but other times he could feel his lips on his own, and how his hands felt on his hips. Not that it meant much. Dreams were dreams, and Solomon wasn’t interested in anything more than friends. Of course Asmo had had a crush on him, one that lasted for a long time, and it had been bad enough that he spent hours sobbing in his room when he got his first girlfriend. Slowly he got over it and started dating other people. Guys, girls, didn’t matter. Yeah he still had a little thing for Solomon, but it didn’t mean much in the long run. 

Solomon just wanted to be friends, and that was it. 

Still didn’t stop the dreams. They were always simple, Solomon’s hands traveling up his shirt and gently brushing against his hips, light kisses going up his neck  until he could whisper sweet words of affirmation and love in his ear, and then his lips on his-

And then a blaring alarm.

Asmo groaned as he rolled over in bed, hand roaming the counter until he found his phone and was able to turn off the offending noise. With a shudder, he wrapped the blankets around himself tighter. Getting up would be a hassle today. It was cold inside and out and Asmo wanted nothing more than to stay in his warm bed for a little longer, but he had a routine to keep. He slipped his feet into the slippers he kept neatly next to his bed. For a moment he contemplated bringing the blanket with him but ultimately deciding against it. He certainly didn’t want to snag the silk on the floor. 

Even if he was sluggish now his beauty routine would be sure to wake him up, it always did. Asmo had a few pictures framed, some taped, next to his vanity. Some were of him and his brothers, some were him and Solomon, others were individuals of them, or some group combination. Some would say that Asmo gave his affections out too easily and that it was easiest bought if you had a pretty face and sweet enough words on your tongue. While that was somewhat true, only those Asmo truly loved got a space next to his bureau. Each photo not only held one of his loved ones, but a dear memory as well. 

Some past lovers had had an issue with some of the pictures, mainly those that involved Solomon. Or maybe it was just Solomon in general. Or maybe it was the special relationship they had. Asmodeus had never been afraid to show his affections and he’s always been physical. Especially with Solomon.

He didn’t really understand why some had had an issue with it in the first place.

Asmo never hid how special Solomon was to him. They’d known each other for almost their entire lives. Hell, they’d gone to their senior prom together! As friends of course. Asmo had been broken up with the week before, and in the middle of running mascara and messy eyeshadow, Solomon had gently asked if he wanted him to take him.  It was a bit of a fiasco really. Neither of them matched each other, and then the corsage (that they talked about getting for the aesthetic) didn’t match either of them. Despite it all, Asmo instead in joking tones that they made quite the stunning couple who took some rather stunning pictures together. They were some of Asmo’s favorites too. 

He opened his bedroom door carefully. He would never forget the day he found himself covered in paint because Mammon forgot about an assignment he had due that day. It had completely ruined his entire look. Asmo probably would have killed him if Lucifer hadn’t intervened. Speaking of Lucifer-

His oldest brother mulled about the kitchen, filling his traveller mug with coffee and wrapping up his breakfast to take to work. Beel was shoveling eggs into his mouth, toast, bacon, and bananas surrounding his plate in line to be eaten and a Belphie slumped against his shoulder. Belphie had never been a morning person. Getting him up for school had always been a struggle to the point where Lucifer had considered getting him into any form of school transportation in the morning a success since the twins had been in middle school. Asmo had spent his senior year driving the twins to school with him, just so they’d all have a little extra time to get ready (or in Belphie’s case, sleep). They’d struck up a deal where Asmo wouldn’t tell Lucifer about Belphie going to school in his pajamas if Belphie didn’t snitch on all the times Asmo snuck out. In Asmo’s personal opinion, it worked out pretty nicely for both of them.

“Good morning Lucifer! Beel, Belphie,” Asmo sang. He ruffled the twins’ hair, earning a grumble from Belphie and a stifled “good morning” from Beel. 

“Good morning Asmodeus.” Lucifer turned his head to look at Asmo as he popped one of the bagels into the toaster and setting the cream cheese on the counter. “Any plans or can we expect you home for dinner tonight?”

“As far as I’m aware,” he giggled.  

Then Lucifer gave him the look.

“Fine. Yes Dad. I’ll be home,” Asmo huffed.

Lucifer rolled his eyes before setting the coffee pot back into place. “I could do without the sass, but thank you. Satan is on duty tonight, if anything changes text him,” he said, packing up his things nice and orderly. He turned around and addressed Asmo in a tone he and the rest of the brothers had been familiar with.

“And please, keep yourself out of trouble and be safe.”

“I will Luci, promise.”

Campus was always so pretty in the fall. There was one spot that Asmo particularly liked next to the campus gardens. Underneath a large tree sat a wrought iron table with two matching chairs. It felt partially hidden from the rest of campus and was a perfect spot when you wanted to be alone with your thoughts. Asmo liked to sit there to work on some of his more creative assignments. The changing colors of the trees and variety of flora in the garden served as muses for some of his design and had birthed some of his proudest works.

“Asmodeus!” 

Asmo looked up, and his face immediately lit up. Solomon had his bag slumped over his shoulder and a coffee cup in each hand. He placed the cups on the table, sliding one towards Asmodeus before sitting in the chair opposite of him and letting his bag fall to the ground.

Solomon had moved out of his old house and into a small apartment for a change of pace a year or two ago. His roommate Simeon had already been living there with his nephew and had been looking for another person to help split rent once their old roommate moved out. Asmo had seen the place a few times, it was small but Solomon liked his room and how there had been room for a bookshelf and a few of his other things. That didn’t mean that Solomon’s room was neat and organized, but Asmo didn’t blame him for liking the place and Simeon and his nephew were both nice enough. It was also nice when he wanted somewhere to work quietly. 

Asmo picked up the cup Solomon slipped him and sipped at it with a smile. It had whipped cream on top that had a slight pumpkin flavor with cinnamon on top. The drink itself was a sweet and creamy hazelnut. “Oooh they have their fall specials back! You always know just what I want,” Asmo cooed, placing the drink back down, a safe distance from his sketch pad.

“I would hope so, considering I’ve been your errand boy to the campus cafe the past three years.”

“You have more points and perks than I do!”

“Because I keep buying your coffee,” Solomon’s tone was teasing. He never really minded getting Asmodeus’ coffee. He’d been doing things for him for years, but he never minded. Asmodeus’ usually found a way to repay him, but even if he didn’t Solomon would probably still do things for him. It was something he’d done without thinking most of the time, they were always little things that reminded him of Asmodeus. 

Asmodeus had rolled his eyes and taken another sip of his coffee, “So, did you just come by to say hi to little ol’ me in between classes?”

“Well yes, it’s not unusual is it?” he asked, “But I was also hoping to show you something.” Asmo quirked an eyebrow as Solomon started digging around in his bag, pulling out three cups and a marble. He set them up on the table and pointed at the one the marble was under. Asmo could help the smile that spread across his lips, nor the chuckle that escaped him  as he played along, keeping an eye on the cup as it spun around on the table. Solomon had gotten into magic tricks sometime in middle school. He always practiced them on Asmodeus, but back then most of them had been little card tricks. He’d always thought it’d been cute.

Asmo pointed at the cup off to the side and Solomon grinned as he lifted it. The other two cups followed, all three empty. “Wait, wait, I think I see it,” Solomon was grinning widely as he reached behind Asmodeus’ ear and brought the marble in front of his face. Asmo broke out into laughter.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“And yet you indulge in my interests.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy them.”

Asmo picked up his pencil back off the table and went back to putting the finishing touches on his newest design. Solomon watched for a moment. He’d always liked Asmodeus’ little designs. They were rather unique and alluring, just like him. “When’s that one due?” 

“It’s part of a collection, so not for a while. Buuuut-” he stopped and flipped a few pages back and pointed to another one he’d already finished, “I have this one finished and just need a model. And I still have your measurements from every other time my most wonderful Solomon has modeled for me.”

“You used up all your little brother tokens?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And your big brother tokens?”

“Those too. I owe the twins more favors than I’d like to admit.”

Solomon hummed and leaned back in his chair, “I suppose I’d have some free time. Would you need me for your class too?”

“If you don’t mind being my full time model for the semester,” Asmo sang. Solomon usually ended up being his full time model for the semester. Solomon nodded and Asmo squealed in delight almost immediately. “Oh thank you Solomon!” he chirped, throwing himself over the table, somehow managing to not knock anything over, “You’re always the best model like ever!”

Solomon coughed.

“And the best friend ever. Of course my best friend would also be my absolute favorite model!” 

Asmo would get to finish his project and spend more time with one of his favorite people in the entire world, of course having Solomon as his model was always a wonderful thing. Plus, he always looked really good in the clothes Asmo made. Like, really good. Sometimes he wondered if his subconscious purposefully made designs that would show off the countless number of tattoos that covered his body. Specifically the ones that would peak out from the collars of his shirts or from behind the cuffs of his sleeves. Solomon would make a really good model… Maybe one day Asmo could convince him to come along and work for him when he made it big one day.

******

Asmo sighed as he slumped onto his bed. He still had some time to himself before he had to meet his brothers for dinner. They usually wouldn’t start until Lucifer got home from work. It wasn’t that they had to wait, they just preferred to eat together when they could. It had been that way ever since they’d been kids and none of them saw a reason to break tradition (even if the brothers didn’t always get along). Folding his legs he went to grab his laptop to attempt to start on a few more assignments for the upcoming week and to update some of his profiles. He wanted to make it into the fashion industry, he needed to keep everything up to date and looking attractive. 

No sooner had Asmo’s laptop left the bag did something else fall out. It was a pink envelope, with his name written in golden cursive on the front. The paper was glossy and sealed on the back with wax. 

Asmo had never gotten a letter before. At least, not one that had been this fancy. 

He carefully picked at the seal, not wanting to destroy something so pretty. 

Unfolding the letter, he couldn’t help but notice a smoky aroma coming from the inside of the envelope. 

How could any person ever glow so brightly?

Looking at you, I can’t deny that there must be some form of a higher power

For I refuse to believe that such perfection could be accidental.

Do you realize how truly wonderful you are?

Or that nothing in this life or any other could come close to comparing to your beauty?

I find myself being drawn to you

Like we’re connected by a string of fate.

I want to adore you.

I long to be closer to you.

Would you ever let yourself be mine?

Know that someone admires you in secret.

Think of Me,

Your Secret

#WBT #solodeus #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #obey me solomon #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer #obey me beel #obey me belphie #ruewrites #obey me #love letters #human!au #friends to lovers #slow burn

[tired-college-student-writing]

The Painter’s Daughter Ch 3

Summary: Marinette is the daughter of two bakers

Marinette is a happy sometimes naive girl

Marinette is loved to create and make more than they liked to destroy

or was she?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3 (HERE)

Chapter 4

_________________________________________

Marinette grew and grew.

At age 5 her mother married the baker across the street and all of them ended up hyphenating their names to Dupain-Cheng, Tom became her Papa after her Dad reassured her it was alright on one of his visits as he brought her fabric flowers and a lovely set of paintbrushes. He was always bringing her gifts, mostly art supplies but sometimes sketches he’s made and even one of his paintings, given on Her first birthday after Helen met her. When people came over they always commented on the odd brown painting in her room, how it didn’t seem to match the rest of the decor, a sprawling landscape with a single woman resting up a tree, hair blowing in the wind Marinette just shrugged and said it was a present from her dad, one Mama hadn’t been too pleased about.

At age 7 she met her rival, Chloe Bourgeois, and ranted and raved about her to her Mama, Papa, and Dad. Her mother looked worried every time she ranted for a while before she overheard her Dad offering to turn Chloe into paint only for Mari to scrunch her nose and tell him that she didn’t want to be the reason someone died. She knew what her Dad was, knew what he did, and she still loved him but she would not allow him to work in her name.

At age 10 she had mastered sewing and began making her own clothes. It took a few times to get right, but she had a lot of practice patching things up since her Dad often had cuts and rips in his clothes and she hated to see him look anything less than his best. Whoever heard of a ragamuffin serial killer after all. Soon she was making her the majority of her own clothes from the fabrics her Dad and parents bought her, and she made them cl too. The creeps often commented on The Painter’s new outfit, an updated version of his old one and asked if they could have some too. By age 12 Marinette had endeared over two dozen creeps to her by eagerly making them more durable clothes for them to wear on hunts and willingly patching them up if they promised not to hunt in Paris outside of missions they were required to do.

At 13, Marinette was given the Ladybug Miraculous, becoming a heroine. Her Dad had laughed hysterically at this when he visited after she first transformed, feeling the ancient magic swirling through her, claiming her as much as Slender’s magic did. They had always been worried about her becoming a creep or proxy, unfeelingly ending lives like her father and here she was, with the magic to heal and bring life back. The power of creation from a being just as old as Slenderman and Zalgo.A true holder of the Ladybug earrings, born to control the magic of creation Tikki had greeted the creep with a warm smile and fierce eyes, telling him that her bug was safe, safer then she ever was before even if she was flipping over rooftops and fighting magical foes.

At 14, a new rival appears right as Chloe is starting to try harder, this one is named Lila. Helen’s blood boils as he listens to his daughter’s tales, knowing this girl would be the exact he would string up by her ankles and bleed like a pig for his next piece if only he promised years ago to leave anyone in Paris alone. He still offered though, and this time her refusals were hesitant and unsure, as the words got harsher and harsher as the lies spun became more intricate.

At 15, the class showed their true colors and the once-bustling friend group broke apart into two camps, Team Lila, with Alya, Myrlene, Sabrina, Rose, Juleka and Ivan, and Team Marinette, with Nino, Max, Nathanial, Kim, Alix, and Chloe. Adrian was strictly neutral, refusing to take either side, fearful of his father finding out about the mini-war and removing him from school. Her Dad wanted to remove him himself but Marinette told him no. The boy was sheltered beyond belief and had to be convinced that the lair’s constant unwanted touching was sexual harassment clear and simple. He meant no harm with his ill-suited advice and ideals of the high road.

Now at 16, she was faced with an even bigger issue.

Her Dad had arrived unannounced as always, never knowing when he’d freely be able to come visit without the police trailing him. They ate dinner, all four of them talking as they always did, avoiding talking about Helen’s job, instead asking about new stories of creeps’ blunders. After dinner, the married couple had shooed her and her dad upstairs so they could clean up.

“I want to kill someone,” She told her dad, slowly once the door to her room was shut, from where she sat on her chaise, sketchbook balanced on her knees as she sketched without looking at it. She couldn’t tell anyone else her thoughts, mama and papa would both panic, others would think she was insane…

"Let me do it," He offered as easily as if he was offering to drive her to her friend's house as he sat down next to her, “I’m sure they would make a lovely painting for you to hang on the wall. Just tell me who. Or if not a painting I’m sure Jeff would put them to sleep, or EJ could make a meal out of them, or-”

“You don’t get it,” She hissed, eyes hard as she stared forward with an unblinking stare, pencil dancing, “I don’t want them dead. I don’t want you or any of the others to handle the situation. I WANT to kill them, by my hand no one else’s, I can picture it.”

He stared at her for a long second, face blank, but she could see his form flickering. Her dad mentally was over 40 at this point and appeared it most of the time too, but Slenderman always kept the proxies the age they were when he created them. She rarely saw her father looking her age, the age he was frozen at forever.

It only came out when he was killing, or when he was in emotional turmoil and unable to keep hold of the magic-making him appear older.

He didn’t know what to say to her announcement, didn’t know what would come of it, what advice he should offer.

They both knew the rules. If she killed someone, truly intentionally killed someone, she was Slender’s. She had met the being back when she was 10, greeting the horror with a smile and gifted him a new tie, faded charcoal with red skulls seeming to be ingrained within the fabric, from a distance or through Slender’s fog it simply looked red but the effort…   She had apologized that she only made him a tie, but wasn’t sure if she could create a suit to match his dimensions as Helen had told her about his tendency to change his height and the tentacles that would appear from his back on occasion. To say that Slender was gone for the girl was stretching it, but he was pleased with her and her attitude towards the darkness that was her dad’s world.

It didn’t mean that anyone wanted her to become part of his domain permanently.

“Tell about them,” Helen finally settled on, “Why do you want to kill them.”

“Gabriel Agreste, and Lila Rossi,” She whispered, eyes faraway. He heard their names before, the absentee, borderline abusive father of his daughter’s crush and the liar that nearly broke his ray of sunshine. Two people ripe for the picking if only Marinette hadn’t ruled Paris off-limits to all creep hunting that wasn’t mandated by Slenderman.

But she told them that they didn’t deserve to be killed.

“What changed?”

He couldn’t quite keep the snarl out of his voice, but Marinette didn’t comment instead of continuing to stare at the wall.

“Gabriel hired Lila to keep an eye on Adrian, back when she first came back. They struck up a deal where she reports back to him about what Adrian and his friends won’t and in exchange, she can model with Adrian all she wants and gain the benefits of being a Gabriel Model, along with having open access to Adrian. This was after she broke into their house and posted a picture of her kissing Adrian’s cheek without his permission. He knew what kind of person she was and still, he struck up a deal and refused to let Adrian tell him about any problems he had with Lila. He shut Adrian down every time he tried to tell him about the sexual harassment, about isolating him from the rest of the class.”

She paused pain flickering in her blank depths, “Then last week Chat Noir showed up on my balcony in tears, shaking so bad I was surprised he didn’t fall off any of the roofs on his way over. He told me he really needed a friend he could trust, someone he could be truthful with and transformed in front of me, begging me not to turn him away, not to call my parents. Adrian basically curled up on my bed at that point and wouldn’t stop sobbing. He told me how Lila had slipped him something, how he couldn’t move as she took off his clothes and…”

She paused as the mechanical pencil shattered under her grip, plastic scattering across the room, anger flashed across her face for a second before

“He begged me not to tell anyone because he didn’t think anyone would believe him. His dad wouldn’t even let him talk about the sexual harassment to him, he didn’t want to be shut down trying to explain. He’s been running around as Chat Noir for since then, only stopping here to shower and get food. Plagg is furious and wants to kill them too, but refuses to leave Adrian for even a few minutes. He’s… he’s so very broken, Dad. His eyes are more hollow than some of the proxies. I’m surprised he hasn’t been akumatized yet.”

“You won’t let me kill them?” He asked again, hands trembling as his image flicked down to 14 and refused to rise again.

“No, because I don’t just want them dead,” She laughed hollowly, “I’ve been drawing these for the last three days.”  

She flipped around the sketchbook to show the two new outfits she had drawn. On the left was a bleached white leather suit, flawlessly put together with bulky buttons just as white as the suit. On the right was a leather dress, dyed deep red with a ribbed corset. He didn’t understand what was wrong with the designs until he looked closer and saw faces on the back of each outfit, the suit had a face with its eyes and ears sewn shut with venomous green thread, while the face on the dress was split in two, one half scowling with a black eye, with a horn stabbed through the temple, the other a smiling happily as a green eye. Each material was listed as she usually did, but instead of the usual fabrics, all it said over and over again was hair, skin, bone.

“A death worthy of a proxy,” He commented slowly, not sure what else to say.

Silence overtook them. Both knowing what lay ahead, but being scared of what could come up.

A knock at the balcony door made both of them jump, Helen’s glamor instinctively rising up.

“Chat,” She called, a blond head poking through the trapdoor only for him to freeze when he saw Helen.

“Easy Kitty,” Marinette whispered, “This is my Dad, remember I told you how he stops by every once in a while when his work allows it. He’s safe, I promise.”

“Safe for you guys,” He mumbled, “the rest of this city outside of this house? Not so sure anymore.”

Chat gave him a weary look but slowly moved down the steps, “What does that mean?”

Helen looked at the boy, passed the mask and the blank expression and really looked. Marinette was right, he looked broken, broken as a new proxy, one that was still scrambling to understand they had reached their breaking point, to realize what they had done now that the bloodlust and sickness had faded. He looked like Helen had back when he first killed Tom.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

“You’re going to detransform,” He told him, “Get a shower and eat. Then we’ll talk.”

He turned on his heel and marched down the steps to the kitchen where he found Sabine and Tom relaxing.

The pair jumped at his sudden appearance especially since he had shifted back to 14 as so as he closed Marinette’s door.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, “Business?”

Helen frowned, then sighed, “Maybe, but… it’s complicated. Chat Noir is here though and he needs food, I don’t think he’s eaten at all today.”  

Sabine’s eyebrows furrow, “Is that why Marinette’s been sneaking food? She could have said something, of course, we’d feed her partner.”

Helen snorted at that as he helped the woman go through the leftovers and make up a heaping plate, along with some leftover pastries from the bakery, “I’m fairly certain that she doesn’t know you two know about her being Paris’ saving grace, plus she promised him that she wouldn’t tell anyone he was here. Something bad happened to him, in his civilian life.”

“How bad?”

“I’ve seen proxies and creeps form from less,” He admitted, “He’s in danger of snapping.”

He disappeared upstairs with the food before they could respond.

There floating in front of Marinette was a tiny cat-like being. Power pulsed off of it making the hair on the back of Helen’s neck stand on end. Plagg, the cat of destruction.

“So,” Helen started, “You’re the counter to Tikki’s power then? Almost felt like Zalgo in here.”

The cat hissed, “Don’t compare me to that bastard. He’s an ass and deserves a solid cataclysm to the face.”

Helen smirked, “Ah so this is why Slender said you were an interesting being. Either way, I’m Helen, and we need to talk.”

“If you want to break my kit-”

Helen cut him off harshly, voice like ice, “Don’t. While some of my coworkers are assholes, I would never intentionally break anyone, but Adrian is holding on by a thread and something needs to be done if you don’t want to become part of the next creep, or worse, down a user.”  

His whiskers drooped as he glanced towards the closed bathroom door, “... What do you have in mind?”

Sabine and Tom didn’t check on Marinette until the next morning and were only slightly surprised to see a note signed with a smiley face, ladybug, and cat on her made bed.

The kids need to see what happens if they snap.

_________________________________________

Tag List: @marinettepotterandplagg @sassakitty

#miraculous ladybug #creepypasta #marinette dupain cheng #Helen Otis #Adrian agreste #TW Rape #mental instability #lila rossi #Lila Rossi is the worst #gabriel agreste a+ parenting #TW murder #TW gore

[shochmonster]

84 Questions

original: https://fuckyeahsurveys.tumblr.com/post/61049002526/84-questions

Put your music player of choice on shuffle and list the first 10 songs Guns of Brixton - The Clash Holiday in Cambodia - Dead Kennedys  Chainsaw - Nick Jonas California - Joni Mitchell Make It Wit Chu - Queens of the Stone Age This Woman’s Work - Kate Bush The Bad Thing - Arctic Monkeys Between the Bars - Eliot Smith Drown - The Smashing Pumpkins Different People - No Doubt

If you could spend a week anywhere in the world, where would it be and why? Would you take anyone with you? I’d take @duoloopo to the UK. I’d like to see places other than London.

What is your preferred writing implement? (eg. Blue pen, pencil, green pen)  I use my iPad stylus the most, but I have this heavy mechanical pencil I really like for drawing. 

Favourite month and why? October. I just love the fall vibe. 

Do you have connections to any celebrities (even minor)? List them. I went to undergraduate school with Rebecca Sugar. We used to ride the bus between NYC and DC together on holidays. 

Name 3 items you could pick up from where you are. Can of seltzer, pencil case, stack of bills

What brand logo is closest to you currently? REAL Skateboards

Do you ever play board games or other non-computer games? Got any favourites? I love Small World and Munchkin. 

A musical artist you love that isn’t well known Laura Stevenson and the Cans

A musical artist you love that is well known Red Hot Chili Peppers

What is your desktop background currently? Thomas Barrow on the beach in the Season 4 Christmas Special

Last person you talked to, and through what you talked to them @duomaxwell02 with my face :O 

First colour name you can think of that isn’t in the rainbow White

What timekeeping devices are in the room you are currently in? Two wall clocks, though one is very old and doesn’t wind anymore. I also have a clock @duoloopo ‘s dad made for me. It’s on the piano. 

What kind of headphones do you use? JBL Bluetooth, noise canceling 

What musical artists have you seen perform live? Foo Fighters (3x), Incubus (3x), Red Hot Chili Peppers, Smashing Pumpkins, Beastie Boys, Audioslave, Justin Timberlake, Troy Sivan, Arctic Monkeys, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Queen (but with Roger Daughtry, not Freddy... for obvious reasons.). Probably a whole bunch of others I’m blanking on. 

Does virginity matter to you? Not really. 

What gaming consoles do you or your family own? PS4, PS2, PS1, XBox 360, N64, Gamecube, Wii, NES, SNES, various Gameboys, Nintendo DS, PSP

What pets do you have? What are their names? Two cats, Hemingway and Renji

What’s the best job you’ve ever had? I like freelance art gigs the best. As for ‘normal people jobs’, I once was a sign painter for Whole Foods. That was pretty fun, minus the work drama. 

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? Food service. 

What magazines do you read, if any? I’ll pick up Time once in a while

Inspiration behind your URL? My classic original URL was LinkWorshiper and had been since AIM first existed. I picked it because Zelda was the first fandom I ever joined. Now I’ve changed all my handles (except on AO3) to reflect my actual name, as my literary agent thinks it’s more professional. 

Inspiration behind your blog title? Mean Girls. I always chuckle imagining Thomas and Jimmy as some Edwardian version of the Plastics. 

Favourite item of clothing? My Downton livery waistcoat. And the stiff bosomed shirt and collars I have to go with it. 

Are you friends with any exes? Nah. By the time I felt comfortable enough to possibly try, I also didn’t care enough to. 

Name at least one book you loved as a child. His Dark Materials (the trilogy by Philip Pullman). I still love them and am jazzed that he’s writing more these days. 

What’s your native language? If that language has distinct regional variations, which variation? (eg. AU English, US English) US English, mostly a northeastern dialect/accent

What email service do you use? Gmail

Is there anything hanging on the walls of the room you are currently in? So much stuff. I have a mood board full of Downtons stuff over my desk, various DA posters and memorabilia, plus some artwork I’ve done, and some of my JC Leyendecker collection. The aforementioned wall clocks, a San Francisco cable car bell, Sailor Moon and a few other little knickknacks, like my hamsa. To name a few lol. 

What’s your favourite number, and why? 212 because it’s Manhattan’s area code and also because it used to be the notation for one of my favorite ships in an old fandom. 

Earliest moment in your life you can remember? Sitting under the table and looking at my grandma, who was wearing a Cruella Deville dress she’d knit herself. Like, it had the actual Disney character on it. Pretty cool to a little guy, I guess!

What did you have for dinner yesterday? Quesadilla 

How often do you brush your teeth? Whenever they feel gross

What’s your favourite candy/chocolate? Lately, I’ve been into Junior Mints. 

Have you had other blogs on Tumblr? Do you have any other blogs currently? This blog used to have my old handle, linkworshiper. I did a small Whole Foods blog when I worked with them, but it never went anywhere. 

If you were suddenly really hungry, what would you choose to eat? Sushi

What fandoms would you consider yourself a part of? Downton Abbey, though lately I’ve been crazy busy and not as active as I once was. Casually still poking at old fandoms like Zelda and Gundam Wing to name a few. 

If you could study anything, what would it be? More art education can’t hurt. Maybe some formal history education. 

Do you use anything on your lips? (eg. Chapstick, gloss, balm, lipstick) Chapstick 

How would you describe your sense of humour? Seinfeld 

What things annoy you more than anything else? Mouth noises

What kind of position are you in at the moment? Sitting

Do you wear much jewellery? Nope

Who is the leader of your country, currently? Any other levels of government with leaders? (State, region, province, county, district, municipality, etc) Three supposedly equal branches of government, currently being run into the ground by a clown 

Last 3 blogs on your dashboard, not including any of your own @halcyondaze @mab1905 @lavender-hued-melancholy

What do you carry your money in? I try to never carry cash, but I carry a small wallet 

Do you enjoy driving? Why or why not? I like it but sometimes it feels like a chore, especially during a commute. @duoloopo thinks I’m a shit driver so she tries to drive whenever she can, which has pluses and minuses. 

Longest drive you have ever been on? Savannah GA to San Francisco, CA in a UHaul

Furthest away from home you have ever been? Germany 

How many times have you moved house? God, I don’t even know. More than ten. 

What is on the floor of the room you’re currently in, not including furniture? Cat toys, unused canvases

How many devices do you own which can access the internet? Phone, computer, iPad, various game consoles 

Is there is anything that is guaranteed to always make you happy? Thomas and Jimmy <3 <3 

Is there anything that always makes you sad? Thinking too hard about being a failure

What programs do you currently have open? I just rebooted, so only Chrome, Spotify and Photoshop

What do you associate the colour red with? This line in the Kate Bush Song Blue Symphony, which goes, ‘I associate love with red, the color of my heart when she’s dead.’ 

Last strong smell you can remember smelling? The Greek food I ordered in for dinner

Last healthy thing you ate? Roasted veggies

Do you drink tea or coffee, and how much per day? I prefer tea, and I drink coffee for energy, though sometimes I think it just makes me crash harder. 

What do you associate the colour blue with? The sky

How long is the closest ruler you can find? 12 inches

What colour pants/skirt/etc are you currently wearing? Dark blue

When was the last time you drank water? About a minute ago

How often do you clear your browser history? Rarely

Do you believe nude photos can be artistic, rather than erotic? Yes

Ever written fanfiction for anything? Oh God, yes. You can still find it under Link Worshiper on AO3, though some of my ‘classics’ have been removed since I turned them into original manuscripts 

Last formal event you attended My cousin’s wedding

If you had to move your birthday to another date, which one would you choose and why? Maybe inch my birth year up just by two so that I’d stop being called a damn millennial. At my age, I really just don’t relate to the generation even though technicalities make me a part of it. 

Would you prefer to be at a beach or in the countryside? Beach

Roughly how many people live in your town? 52,000

Do you know anyone with the same birthday as you? Leonard Nimoy :D 

Favourite place to shop? Can be a certain store or a place where there are multiple stores I haven’t really gone shopping since the pandemic. Right now, it feels like the only place to buy anything is Amazon XD

Do you have a smartphone? What kind? If you don’t, do you want one? Samsung. It’s not a Galaxy but is a new model and a fraction of the price. 

What is your least favourite colour, and why? I don’t think I dislike any colors honestly. 

How do you spell grey/gray? Grey. I’ve got too many British online associates to ever go back. 

Go to your dashboard and describe the image shown in the radar section (below the “Find blogs” link) It’s Umbrella Academy fanart of Klaus. He’s in black and white with this hands over his eyes and the background is red. It’s very graphic. 

What difference is there between how many followers you have, and the number of blogs you follow? 736

How many posts do you have? 8,859

How many posts have you liked? I can’t find the stat D: 

Do you post mainly reblogs, or your own content? Mainly reblogs but I pepper in my own content when I can. Lately, I haven’t had time to do as much fanart though, and I kind of feel like it’s not worth bothering to post my original stuff. Nobody follows my blog for that. 

Do you track any tags? No. 

What time is it currently? 7:33 PM CMT

Is there anything you should be doing right now? Waking up @duoloopo. TIME TO JUMP ON THE BED. 

tagging, if they feel like it: @abbys-little-whippersnapper​ @bumblebarrow​ @irrationalgame​ @downtoncat​ @mab1905​ @duoloopo​

and everyone who I’ve forgotten

#personal #about me #questions

[woos-sweaterpaws]

i want to get to know you so do 1-50 (except 29) 🌻

This is really really sweet of you anon thank u!!

__________________________________________

1. how many pillows do you sleep with?

I have 6 in my bed rn

and over 20 plushies

its never enough

2. do you believe in soulmates?

yes i do

3. would you ever kiss a stranger?

yes but not if its like total-never-spoke-to-them stranger

4. describe your dream house

i would prefer not a house but a nice penthouse-loft-apartment in a big city with a nice view and big windows

interior would be minimalistic style with light wood and a big double sized bed for me (since i dont think i will have a partner lol)

i would love an apartment with multiple floors or like a half-floor for the bedroom

5. do you usually use cash or card?

card

6. do you enjoy driving in general?

i hate it with a burning passion

7. do you like your name? if not, what would you change your name to?

i dont HATE my name

there are better/prettier ones but i think mine fits me

i would still like a more international name (since mine is kinda weird in the english speaking world) but  i dont have smth specific in mind

8. what’s your favorite cuisine?

italian ~

9. how often do you get massages?

i dont o.o i got some a few years ago because my back is fucked but otherwise never

10. do you play video games? if so, what games?

generally chill games like animal crossing, stardew valley and such, the big nintendo titles like mario kart and zelda, binding of isaac

11. do you prefer to color with colored pencils, crayons, or markers?

colored pencils!

12. what other fandoms are you in?

oh boy

okay so apart from all of kpop and thai dramas im in

skam

aftg

hp

trc

the mentioned video games if you wanna count that as fandoms

im probably forgetting a ton rn

13. do you have a signature in your style/everyday outfits?

if its comfy i like it

usually involves hoodies or boys shirts

i prefer if i dont have to worry about showing skin somewhere i dont want to

14. do you have any pets? if not, do you want some in the future?

no i dont have any atm but i had bunnies, birds and a guniea pig before. and yes i want cats when i move out

15. do you give objects you own a name? (car, house, plants, etc)

i named my cactus but it died (plants hate me) i also name all my plushies and random animals on the street

16. do you like the weather where you live?

its okay yea. summers are not too hot but i wish the winters were cold enough for snow :(

17. if you could wear one color for the rest of your life, what would it be?

black! its generally my comfort color in clothes

18. do you like making small talk?

WHO tf likes smalltalk? no!

19. what’s your favorite social media platform?

tumblr 100%

20. have you ever been to hawaii?

no :(

21. name a fashion trend that you absolutely hate

no offence but crop tops

i dont hate them they look good on you guys

but i hate that i cant find hoodies and shirts in womans sections anymore that arent cropped (ive been searching the past 6 months and everytime i like smth its cropped - i especially hated that when looking for oversized hoodies)

i dont wear them myself because cold so it sucks not finding cute clothes

i also fundamentally disagree with mustard-yellow

22. name a fashion trend that you absolutely love

oversized hoodies with ripped jeans and boots was my winter favourite

23. what was the last text you sent?

“okay” in out family groupchat lol

24. when making plans, do you like to organize or go with the flow when the time comes?

i like it to be organized but not be the one who actually organizes it if that makes sense?

25. what do you want to name your future kids?

i dont want kids but i wanna name my cats mochi and (c)leo (depending on gender)

26. do you have a type?

with looks i generally prefer darker hair with pretty eyes but if im comfortable with u it doesnt matter

if u like cuddling, are patient and gentle and love to make jokes that arent funny i probably like u lots

27. when was the last time you kissed someone?

like...kissed kissed? in grade 7 so...2012? my first and last kiss lol

28. how often do you cook?

as often as necessary, as little as possible (i cant really cook except for pasta and stuff so im mostly living of instant meals and “cut up a lot of things and put it in a pan until its browned” kinda stuff)

30. do you always remember your dreams?

no i dont

i had a dream diary once but that was a disaster

31. do you believe in ghosts?

yea kinda

i believe in invisible spirits/souls living with us yea

32. would you ever want to move outside of your country?

sometimes? im too scared to actually do it but there are many nice cities i would love to live in

33. describe your first love

well idk about love...it was always more of an obsession kinda thing and it was never a two-way-thing so i never had a real first love...

34. more peanut butter or more jelly?

i hate peanuts so no pb and only jelly (or nutella if you love me)

35. do your irls know about your tumblr account?

they know i have a tumblr but only my best friend actually follows me (and a high school friend i lost contact to)

my other friends dont have tumblr so they dont care

36. do you prefer hot or cold beverages?

cold!

37. when was the last time you finished a book?

i reread the aftg series last december for the 4th time

38. what would you want your wedding colors to be?

green-white? like a soft bright pastel green? maybe add pastel pink too

39. how long do you let your nails grow?

if i can see them clearly from the inside of my hand i cut them

40. if you could stay at a certain age, what age would you pick?

probably 19 or 7 theres no in between

41. who do you think has it easiest: older siblings or younger siblings?

older siblings because they learn responsibility earlier

i dont have siblings tho so idk

42. how often do you post on social media?

on tumblr daily, on insta never, on twitter occasionally if fun stuff happens

43. do you enjoy big groups?

nope

44. do you like it when you’re awaken by the sounds of birds chirping?

its better than my alarm but waaay too early so nope

45. which hand is your favorite?

left?

46. how many people do you follow?

1152 (yes i might have a problem)

47. how many followers do you have?

359 on my main and 27 on my fandom side account

48. how many drafts do you have?

53 but i use it to save posts i find interesting or that contain links i might need later

49. do you hang or fold your sweaters?

hang because im lazy and it saves space on the clothes dryer rack

50. even numbers or odd?

odd!

[badmcuposts]

Seven-Pointed Star

For @avenging-criminal-bones by @badmcuposts [OR READ HERE on AO3]

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Rating: T for language

Relationships: minor Peter/MJ, Peter & Tony, minor Tony/Pepper, Peter & May, Tony & May

Warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts

Summary:

He frantically ran out of the room, ignoring Obadiah’s calls behind him. The burning began to fade, before only a mild sting was left behind.

Tony peeled back his jacket sleeve, then his dress shirt.

There, in broad daylight was the shape of a seven-pointed star. It glowed in a magnificent baby blue, lightly shimmering in the fluorescent lights. In the center, there was a diamond, or a rhombus as the linguists would prefer, matching in hue.

It was beautiful.

One shape.

One goddamn shape was all Tony Stark had ever wanted.

By the time he was six, everyone he knew had already gotten both of their soulmate tattoos. One on the left wrist for romantic, and one on the right wrist for platonic.

He got his left tattoo when he was four, a square with pink and green chevron lining the inside, accompanied by a blue circle in the upper right hand corner.

He remembered frantically dropping his pencil, running to his mother with glee in his eyes. For such a little boy, he really could hold a lot of energy inside of him. Maria thought it was cute, how happy Tony had been about something so common. Like loosing your first tooth.

She’d told him: “Soon, baby, you’ll get your right marking as well. Then we can celebrate all night long after Daddy goes to bed, hm?”

She hadn’t lived to see that happen, though.

At age 31 he still hadn’t gotten his right tattoo. Maybe he was just... unlovable. Not in romance, clearly, but in friendship.

Rhodey had a red and gold triangle, the colors slipping and mixing as they lined to form the hollow shape. Tony liked the colors. They were stylish.

But Happy had the matching tattoo. Not him.

And they always seemed so fucking happy about it, too. Like they were just trying to rub it in Tony’s face. They weren’t- he knew that. God, he wasn’t a toddler. He understood that two people could be friends without it being a personal thing. But... it still hurt, you know?

On sleepless nights, when Tony couldn’t be bothered to drown his sorrows in the lab, he thought about how much better off he would be if he didn’t have to look at that stupid bare skin, each pore taunting him with its nudity.

The assumption stood that, perhaps, if he wasn’t so hell bent on sticking it out for his left wrist’s sake, he would have given in to the right and left a long time ago.

He normally wore long sleeves, to cover his shame behind cloth. He didn’t want people being reminded that Tony Fucking Stark still lacked a platonic soulmate. Like an ingrate. Some kind of mistake of god that nobody could ever match to.

The cloth was it itchy today, though. Maybe he hadn’t washed the blazer properly last night, or it was just his skin being unbearbly sensitive, but it felt... itchy. All morning it had. Like something was going on with him.

“Tony?” Obie asked him. “Can you sign this?”

The man didn’t hesitate to grab the pen, too busy focusing on the itch along his appendage to worry about whatever the hell he was signing. Obie would never lead him astray, anyhow.

As he reached forward to place his John Hancock, he felt a the itch quickly escalate and grow in mere milleseconds, before turning into a horrible burning sensation.

Hot.

Hotter, hotter, hotter it grew. The man grabbed at the skin in pain, hunching over as he screamed. It felt like... the way his left wrist had felt, back when he got his romantic mark.

What the hell?

Could... could it be...? No- was it...

He frantically ran out of the room, ignoring Obadiah’s calls behind him. The burning began to fade, before only a mild sting was left behind.

Tony peeled back his jacket sleeve, then his dress shirt.

There, in broad daylight was the shape of a seven-pointed star. It glowed in a magnificent baby blue, lightly shimmering in the fluorescent lights. In the center, there was a diamond, or a rhombus as the linguists would prefer, matching in hue.

It was beautiful.

His own platonic tattoo. All his. It stood for something. It meant so much- it meant that his being was truly meant to be loved.

It was then that he realized just how odd the timing was. Soulmate tattoos appeared on the eldest’s skin when the younger was born, so why had his come now?

What the hell was he supposed to do with a newborn baby?

-

Peter Benjamin Parker was born with both of his soulmate tattoos already present.

His parents had taken so many photos that day, their shining faces proudly showing off their baby boy’s little markings.

On his left hand, the shape of a black dahlia flower, all done up in blood red. On his right, a beautiful baby blue seven-pointed star with a diamond in the center.

He opened his eyes after a few minutes, crosseyed as most little ones were for the first few months. Peter smiled when his Daddy held his little wrists out, proudly showing them off to the boy.

He spoke of their history, the way that fate had assigned Peter to two people already, people that would love him more than anything in the world. That somewhere in the world- another person shared his special markings. His soulmates at birth, star-crossed partners in love or in friendship.

Of course, at less than a day old, Peter had absolutely no idea what his father was saying, but seemed to appreciate it nonetheless.

The infant was absolutely adorable- and had continued in that stride for the years after. He met Michelle in freshman year at Midtown, and they started dating not long after, their matching wrists promising a lifetime of love.

He often wondered, though, as many children would, who had his other matching tattoo.

-

Tony scanned the files he may or may not have stolen from the government.

Each teenage boy had been verified by FRIDAY, a perfect candidate for the little spiderling that had been meander around Queens for the last few months.

There wasn’t much of a reason to it, just some primal instinct he had. No big fight coming up or coup he had to instigate.

The kid had skill, and a lot of untapped potential. He could be great, if only he was trained. Which he wouldn’t be, unless Tony got to him before some rag tag group of thugs did.

God, that would be a mess.

He flipped through the pages, slowly weening out the boy’s that lacked a motive, a concept too human for FRIDAY to understand. Yet.

One file caught his attention, though. The face of a prepubescent boy with messy hair and bright eyes. He was adorable, really. But that’s not what snatched Tony’s eye.

It was the birthdate.

August 10th, 2001 had been the day he got his right tattoo. One of the best days of his life.

There was always the chance that it was a fluke, a coincidence of the ages. Never meant to be, simply crashed in place and left to rest.

But the pictures on the next page of the file sent those thoughts straight underground.

As any other social security file would, this one came with pictures of either soulmate tattoos, accompanied by a description of them for paperwork sake. The images were clearly taken of a newborn baby, likely at the hospital not long after birth.

Peter Parker’s right tattoo was a match.

-

“Hey, May!” Peter called, stepping into the old apartment as he returned from school, his mind still a little bleary over the fact that Cindy Moon had really just chugged 12 diet cokes in one sitting at lunch.

“Oh, hey!” The woman returned, her voice fading in as the boy slowly removed his earbuds and grunted as he sat his backpack down on the chair by the kitchen table. “How was school today?”

He smiled in fond admiration. “Okay.” He responded, “There’s this crazy car parked outside...” he began, before pausing suddenly.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Was his hair okay? What about his teeth? Was there anything in his teeth? God, there was probably something in his teeth. Were his glasses smudged? Wait- no, no glasses. How about his clothes?

“Oh, Mr. Parker.” The man sitting on his couch acknowledged.

Peter stuttered, his voice leaving him as his face went numb under pressure. The boy had never been used to the spotlight. “I- wha- what? What are you doi- hey, I- I’m- I’m- I’m Peter. Wai-”

“Tony.” The billionaire greeted. His hair was less shiny in person, and he had a few more wrinkles than he did on TV, Peter noticed.

Tony, he had said, like they were... friends or something. Miss Janelle always said that you shouldn’t refer to public figures by their first names, because they aren’t your friends- they’re sources.

That was weird. This was weird. Everything was weird.

The boy stammered. “What are you- what are you- what are you doing here?” Mr. Stark chuckled. “It’s about time we met.”

In his peripheral vision, Peter could just make out his Aunt frantically mouthing “What The Fuck” as her eyes blew up wider than a hornet nest. At least he wasn’t the only shocked one here.

“You’ve been getting my emails, right?” Mr. Stark asked him. Suddenly, the man winked his eyes, smirking a little.

What the fuck?

The boy played along. After all, when Tony Stark is signaling for you to follow his lead and do as he says, you listen. “Yeah, yeah, regarding the...”

“You didn’t tell me about the grant.” May chirped..

Peter took the lead. “About the grant.” He nodded. Wait... what grant?

“The September Foundation.” Mr. Stark allotted, waving his hand as though metaphorically giving Peter the next bit of information for whatever crazy scheme he had just been pulled into.

The boy shrugged and smiled. “Right.” He agreed. “Yeah. Remember when you applied?” Tony asked.

No, Peter thought, I never fucking applied for anything. What the hell is going on, Mr. Iron Man?

But he didn’t say that, did he?

“Yeah.” Peter smiled. The man gleamed. “I approved! So, now, we’re in business.”

May shifted in her seat, seemingly compromised by whatever bullshit story it was that the older male had told her. Seriously, what was their story here? “You didn’t tell me anything, what’s up with that? You keeping secrets from me now?” She asked.

“Well, I just- I just know how much you love surprises.” Peter offered, sending an experimental glance towards the other, testing that he was sticking to the plan he had yet to be informed of.

“Anyway, what did I apply for?” The teen hurriedly asked.

Mr. Stark bluntly blinked, a sign that Peter was definitely not as good of an actor as he liked to hope. Maybe he should start doing drama with MJ, that could help...

“That’s what I’m here to hash out.” The man claimed. “Okay, hash it- hash it out. Okay.” Peter agreed stupidly. He had no idea what he was doing.

As if trained in the art of lying, the richest one in the room drew attention away crom Peter’s misstep. “It’s so hard for me to believe that she’s someone’s aunt.” “Yeah, well we come in all shapes and sizes, you know?” “This walnut date loaf is exceptional.”

“I’m gonna just stop you there.” Peter interjected. God, Tony Stark was hitting on his Aunt.

So. Weird.

Mr. Stark chuckled a little. “Yeah?” He asked.

Suddenly, some distant part of Peter’s mind clicked. His Aunt’s face glowed in his mind, like when a character in a movie saw a hot girl and everything slowed down. Not that he thought May was hot, because, ew.

No, he was focusing on the word: Grant.

“Does this grant, like, got money involved or whatever? No?” He asked.

Mr. Stark slowed, seemingly confused by the question. “Yeah...” He began. “Yeah?” Peter echoed. “Well, it’s- it’s pretty well funded.” Oh. Not as exciting- but, still, being in the presence of money like that...

Peter remembered when he was little, when his still-living father would take him to New Rochelle on the weekends, just to see it.

“Look at these fellas long and hard, Pete.”

“They’re just rich people houses, Daddy!”

“Don’t you wanna live in one of ‘em?”

“Can’t. We’re not rich people.”

“Well? Here’s your inspiration, kiddo. Use that inspiration for your whole life. All you need for success is to be nearby what you want, to remind yourself that it is real and attainable. Then you really will work as hard as you can. This is the goal, so you don’t give up until you’ve got it.”

Peter’s mind wandered back to the present, Mr. Stark’s face still moving with his words. “Wow.” He gasped.

“I mean, look who you’re talking to.” The man joked. He turned to May. “Can I have five minutes with him?” He asked, pointing towards the bedroom off to the side with PETER clearly emblazoned across the door.

May smiled politely, of course, though Peter was pretty sure she was still uncomfortable with a grown man entering Peter’s bedroom. “Sure.”

They piled into Peter’s small bedroom, his twin bed thankfully having been made that morning. It was still a total mess. Mr. Stark really should have given a warning.

-

Tony was just happy that the kid hadn’t spent too long claiming not to be Spider-Man. He was relatively easy to quell, for a 14-year-old. Not that much teen spirit or whatever the kids called it nowadays. One mention of good pay and a spot on the team and the boy was all for the arrangement.

Peter would be working under Tony until he was old enough to join the Avengers Initiative- that is, if Tony says he’s ready then. Just some mentoring, getting the kid some decent field experience. And a better suit, because... yeesh.

That onesie across the room was an insult to all of superhero suit kind.

“Next order of business,” The man continued, “Roll up your sleeve.”

Peter spluttered. “What?” He remarked.

Tony sighed, before doing so on his own account, revealing that ever familiar design to Peter’s eyes.

The boy began to shake, his whole face going pale as he whispered “Is that...”

“A match? One can only be sure in person, kid.”

Peter gingerly removed his jacket and pulled up the right sleeve of his pullover, revealing his own seven-pointed star, made in a perfect baby blue, with a diamond encased in the center.

The man smiled, happily looking down at the little details, all familiar to him.

His own platonic soulmate. Right next to him.

He didn’t understand how or why, but one thing was for certain. This kid? This adorable, dopey-eyed kid with a onesie in his celling. He would protect this kid at all costs.

#my fics #marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #avengers endgame #tony stark #peter parker #and i wanted queue to be better #tom holland