#this specific quote has been knocking around in my brain for hours

[pnksh1rts]

#generation loss #gen loss #ranboo #generation loss spoilers #this specific quote has been knocking around in my brain for hours

[cellsshapedlikestars]

I love random dating apps/show jonsa stories so if you can think up anything for a jonsa Omegle I'd love to read it. I've been wracking my brain for an hour now retyping and deleting some suggestions but Idk if any would be of interest.

They keep getting connected to each other, long lost friend, they're influencers making a vid, they're roommates and where bored so they check it out only to meet one of their exes. Idek. I've never used it but I've seen clips so... If you can't make it work totally fine!

Anon, I will admit this one really stumped me.

I have never used Omegle, though I have used ChatRoulette when I was much younger, so I know the basic concept, but I could not figure out an interesting enough plot. So... I wrote something and sort of shoved a reference to Omegle into it?

As a side note, I've been wanting to write a guitarist!Jon and groupie!Sansa fic for a while, but what I had in mind was definitely not this? So if you ever see a similar fic from me...

read it on ao3 here:

ephemera, chapter 35

.

If you had asked Jon what his biggest wish was even an hour ago, he would have said it's already come true. He gets to make music for a living, and that's all he's wanted since the moment he first picked up a guitar when he was barely big enough to hold it.

Now, though, the thing he wishes for more than anything else, is for Theon to shut the fuck up.

For as much as Jon loves music, loves playing, loves his bandmates – yes, even Theon – this touring thing has wiped him out. They're on their last leg, just two more shows before Jon can finally relax again, and both shows are here in Winterfell. After that last show, he can just... go home. To his own bed, not this stupid hotel that Davos insists they stay in, because it's close to the venue and Davos is worried that if he lets them out of his sight, he'll lose them. Well, Theon, specifically. Davos learned the hard way that he needs to keep a tight leash on Theon, or else he might go out partying, get blackout drunk, go home with some girl, and miss the concert.

It's hard to have a show without the lead singer.

But that means Jon is stuck in a hotel room with Theon since he is – quote – the most responsible one. Jon would give anything to be rooming with Grenn or Satin, but Grenn is a pushover and Satin is too apathetic to stop Theon from leaving, so it's up to Jon.

Theon, stuck inside his hotel room and unable to go out and party like he wants to, is currently on his phone, talking to someone – or, someones, from the number of voices Jon's heard coming from the speaker on Theon's phone (because gods forbid he wear headphones). It's like he's trying as hard as possible to make Jon miserable, which... might not be too far off track. Theon takes joy in making him miserable.

Jon ignores whatever's happening on the other bed, shoving his headphones into his ears and trying to read, because that usually helps him sleep.

He gets through a few chapters of his book before he hears a distant knock through his headphones, and Theon throws himself out of bed and goes to answer it. He must have ordered food, even though they ate not too long ago.

Instead of food, though, when Theon opens the door, there's four girls standing outside, and their excited voices cut straight through Jon's supposedly noise-canceling headphones.

Jon's in a pair of ratty sweatpants and an old Dark Sister t-shirt, laying back on his bed with a book propped on his stomach, when Theon lets the girls into the room. He pushes himself upright and yanks out his headphones and says, “Theon, what the fuck.”

“Girls,” Theon gives them his most charming smile, “I'm sure you recognize our guitarist.” Jon stares at him in utter disbelief. “I invited some fans over,” Theon shrugs, smile turned from charming to shit-eating, because he figured out a way to get around Davos's rules.

“I can't believe it was really you guys on Omegle!” the one girl giggles, though Jon has no idea what that word even means. She's blonde and just seems... so young. The others look a bit older, but the blonde seems young.

“Come in, make yourselves at home,” Theon gestures into the room and, specifically, the minibar.

“Theon,” Jon swings his legs out of bed and stands, and his tone seems to stop them all in their tracks. “How old are they?”

“What?” Theon asks, like it hadn't even crossed his mind, because of course it hadn't.

Jon turns to the group of girls. Three of them had already started for the minibar – the blonde and two brunettes – but one of them hangs back, a redhead that seems uncomfortable being here, from the way she's got her arms crossed over her stomach. She's got her phone clutched in her hands and Jon wouldn't be surprised if she had 911 on speed dial or something. Maybe it's because he's that person too, but he can always spot the responsible one in a group of friends.

“We're legal,” one of the brunettes assures, and Jon might not have Theon's way with women, but even he can hear the flirtation in her voice.

“Sorry, I'm gonna need proof of that,” Jon sighs, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes and wishing he could just leave and go to Grenn and Satin's room. But Davos would kill him for leaving Theon alone, and even if that weren't the case, Jon's not leaving these girls alone with Theon until he confirms that they are, in fact, adults.

“Are you carding us?” the other brunette giggles, though she's blushing and her flirty voice isn't as bold as the first one.

“Seems like I have to,” Jon shoots a glare at Theon.

The girls all dig into their purses and present IDs to him. Margaery Tyrell, 22. Jeyne Poole, 21. Myrcella Baratheon, 19. Sansa Stark, 21. He was right that the blonde was younger than the rest.

“I promise they aren't fake,” Margaery says, pulling out her phone. “See? We're in university.” She shows him a photo of what appears to be a sorority, and he can see all four of them sprinkled in with the other girls.

They may not be minors, but nineteen still seems a bit too young, and Jon wonders when that happened. He was nineteen not that long ago, but his life has changed so drastically since then, it feels like a lifetime, and not just five years. He has to remind himself they aren't actually much younger than he is.

“Do we pass inspection?” Margaery asks, batting her eyes at him, and Jon knows that if they're adults, he can't really tell them to leave. They're allowed to make their own choices (or mistakes).

He gets back onto his bed and picks his book back up as Theon turns on music and starts pulling drinks from the minibar, and Jon proceeds to ignore whatever is going on.

After a while, the bed next to him dips, and he looks up to see the redhead sitting on the edge of it, one of the cups from the room's bathroom clutched in her hand as she picks at the paper lip of it with one pink-painted nail.

“What are you reading?” she asks, and Jon swears her blush sweeps from her cheeks all the way down her throat and chest, disappearing beneath the neckline of her dress. She's pretty. All the girls are, but if Jon's being honest, he's always had a thing for redheads, and this one is no exception.

“Oh, uh,” he keeps one finger on the page he was reading and lets the book close around it to show the cover, only realizing then that he's probably about to shatter her vision of who he is. Jon knows he's the mysterious one in the band. The guitarist who doesn't really speak in interviews, who tends to wear a hat and sunglasses when they go out, who rarely smiles. “It's historical fiction?”

She looks at the cover and her brows furrow. “My dad reads those,” she says, and for some reason, Jon wishes he could sink into the floor and disappear. Because the thing is, he's not dark and mysterious and sexy – he's the boring dad of the group. He normally doesn't care when fans figure this out, but...

“They're good,” he defends, and when her eyes move back to his face, she smiles for the first time since she entered their suite. On the other side of the room, towards the living area, Theon is dancing with the rest of the girls. The redhead, Sansa, looks over her shoulder at them and her face turns an even deeper shade of pink than before. He's getting the sense it wasn't her idea to come here tonight. “So I have to ask,” he says, and she turns back to him, “what the fuck is Omegle?”

She lets out an embarrassed giggle and says, “it's an app. You video chat with random people. It's stupid, but we sometimes do it when we're bored.”

“Oh, that's what he was doing,” Jon's eyes flick to Theon, who seems to be focusing most of his attention on the one named Jeyne.

“We didn't believe it was really him at first,” she says, fingernail still picking at the paper lip of her cup. He wonders if it's filled with alcohol or water. “Then he turned the camera around and you were there, too.” Of course he did. Jon hadn't even noticed.

“So you are fans,” he confirms, though of course they are. Why else would they go to a stranger's hotel room at night?

“We mentioned we were going to your concert tomorrow, and he realized we lived in the city...” she trails off, throwing another glance at her friends. She doesn't need to finish – and then he invited us here.

Jon's never been surprised that they have female fans, but he is sort of surprised she's a fan. Between her pink nails and her baby blue dress and the fact that she's apparently in a sorority, she doesn't exactly seem the type to be at one of their concerts. But then again, Jon should know better about stereotyping off looks, considering his public persona.

“Well, I hope it's a good show,” he says, because he has no idea what else to say. He's never had Theon's way with flirting. Except... no, he shouldn't flirt with her. She's a fan, and Jon tried the whole groupie thing early on in their tour, back when it was new and exciting, but he'd learned quickly he isn't really the type for one night stands – especially ones that only see him as Jon Snow of the Night's Watch. “It's my job to make sure Theon doesn't get too wasted and miss it.”

She lets out another light laugh and says, “I'm here to make sure my friends don't do anything stupid. Though I'm not sure I'm doing a good job of that, since I couldn't even stop them from going to a stranger's hotel room.”

He'd bet anything there's water in her cup.

“So, uh, how long have you been a fan?” he asks, and can't help but cringe when he hears the words come out of his mouth. He really is terrible with women.

“Oh,” she also seems to cringe a bit. “I only really started listening a few weeks ago when Margie heard you were coming here. She and Myrcella heard your song in that Oberyn Martell movie and have been obsessed ever since. They bought tickets and Jeyne and I agreed to go...” She looks at him, eyes wide and panicked and says, “but I really like it, I promise!”

He can't help it – he laughs, and it almost feels like relief. She isn't a groupie, after all.

“What a glowing review,” he grins, and she turns, somehow, even brighter pink.

“Are you mad we're here?” she asks, eyeing his book again. She clearly understands that he wasn't aware they were coming.

“No,” he lies. Or maybe it's not a lie. He's not having the worst time right now... “I mean, we're supposed to be getting rest, and I'm supposed to keep Theon out of trouble, but this is actually pretty standard behavior for him, so I'm not surprised, and I stopped being mad about it a long time ago.”

“He reminds me of-” she starts, then seems to stop herself.

“Of what?”

She presses her lips together in thought and shoots another look behind her at the group, before saying, “he sort of reminds me of the frat guys at school.”

Jon lets out another snort of laughter, setting his book aside completely, though he didn't think to check what page he was on. “If we hadn't done the band thing – if we'd actually gone to uni – he probably would have been,” Jon admits.

If they hadn't met when they were so young, forming their first band in Theon's garage at the age of twelve, Jon probably wouldn't be friends with him now. Theon is obnoxious and annoying, but he's also an extraordinary front man and likely the only reason they ever got a record deal.

“But not you?” she asks, head tilted, eyes raking over him curiously. He wishes he were wearing something better than sweatpants and this old, washed out band tee.

“I'm not big on social interaction.”

“I couldn't tell,” she deadpans, pointing at his book, but she starts to giggle when he narrows his eyes at her, and Jon realizes she's flirting with him. He wasn't sure before, or if she just came over here to get away from Theon, but no. She's flirting with him.

Jon doesn't do groupies. He implemented that rule halfway through the tour, and he tries to keep that in mind right now. On one hand, he knows that one night stands with groupies don't do great things for his self esteem and overall mental health, but on the other hand... he'd really like to see this girl naked.

She isn't a groupie, his mind whispers. Not really.

There's a crash from the other side of the room, and Sansa whips around to look at her friends, letting out a gasp and standing up when she sees that the youngest one – Myrcella – has tripped over the coffee table in the living area.

“I'm fine!” Myrcella says from the ground, and she's giggling hysterically, so Jon assumes she's alright, just tipsy.

There's worry on Sansa's face, though, and Jon knows he should probably shut this down. It's getting towards one in the mornig, and they have to get up early to do an interview before heading off to prep for the concert. He's let this go on too long as it is.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” he says, voice loud enough to project over the music, and he gets out of bed and heads over into the living area, where Margaery and Jeyne are helping their friend up. “We've got an early morning.”

“Come on,” Theon groans, trying to give him a look, pleading eyes flicking between Jeyne and Jon.

“And what happens when you're too tired and hung over for the concert and we have to cancel, again?” Jon tries to reason, though he wishes they could do this in private and not in front of the girls.

Theon groans, but he doesn't argue, and Jon wonders if he's finally growing the fuck up. Then Theon perks back up and says, “backstage passes! We'll get your names on the list.”

That seems to placate both him and the girls, and Jon won't argue with that. It means he gets to see Sansa again, even though he knows he shouldn't want to.

The other three girls grab their things, shooting him exaggerated pouts as they do, though they keep breaking and laughing. Jon has never felt more like a grouchy old man than he does now.

“You have a way to get home safe?” Jon asks Sansa, because she's the only one who hasn't been drinking at this strange, pop-up hotel room party. He'd offer to get them a car himself, but that means asking for their address and he's not about to do that.

Sansa nods and opens an Uber app on her phone and says, “car's ten minutes away, guys.” And then, as her friends say goodbye to Theon, she turns to Jon and says, “I'll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“You'll be on the list,” he confirms.

When they're gone, Theon turns on him and says, “dude. What the fuck.”

“The fuck is that we have to get up at seven tomorrow and I'm not getting in trouble because you invited a bunch of girls over without even checking that they weren't underage.”

“Alright, not my finest moment, but don't act all superior like you weren't drooling over that redhead.”

Jon refuses to respond to this, and gets into bed and turns out his light and ignores Theon's grumbling.

#jonsa fic #jonsa #prompt fic

[dreamkidddream]

Hiya~ Can I request quote 9) "Are you jealous?" for Lucifer in Obey Me! pretty please😊

This was so much fun to write! Luci know that he gets jealous but never wants to admit (his jealousy is worse than Mammon but you didn’t hear it from me 🤭) and sorry this got kinda long! Reader is gender neutral!

TW: suggestive/spicy themes, but nothing extremely graphic is mentioned

Prompt: “Are you jealous?” with Lucifer!

Lucifer is pissed.

He’s tapping his foot, and constantly checking his phone, waiting in his study for you to either walk in or call him. It’s late, and you’re still not home yet. He asked his brothers where exactly you are, and when Asmo told him that you’re out with the same “friend” you seem to blow all of them off for some time now, it just makes his mood turn even more sour, the scowl on his face deepening.

Now, Lucifer is not opposed to you making friends, as long as they aren’t a threat to you, his family, Lord Diavolo and the other exchange students. He understands that it’s very easy for you to connect with others, intentional or not, and he encourages it to a certain extent. However, this same “friend” that you’ve been increasingly been hanging out with for the past couple of weeks is starting to rub him the wrong way. Of course he’s met this “friend”, a classmate from your Seductive Speechcraft class (which just made him feel more unease with you being with them), and they seemed harmless enough (for a demon at least). Annoying, but harmless, at first.

Then began the constant need for your attention.

It started with the messages and calls under the guise of studying, the “innocent” demon begging you for help so that they can pass the class, and you being the naive nice human that you are of course obliged their request. Then it escalated from once a week, to three times a week, to almost staying after school every day just to “help”. He didn’t like that, as it’s him or his brothers that always walk you home every time, and this demon (who he found is Yuki, a demon who feeds off of sexual energy nonetheless), is messing with the routine, but he kept his cool and forced his brothers to do the same. He- They weren’t happy about this, but at the end of the day, you’re still coming home to him- them, and nothing is changing that. Not to mention how he made sure that someone had their eyes on you, whether it’s Mammon, Beel, or even himself (which he preferred).

Until Yuki decided that you need to hang out more, without him or his brothers.

That’s when he made it known of his dislike towards them, and dislike is putting it lightly.

You started to come home right at dinner, right before Beel devoured your plate. Mammon obviously voiced his displeasure aloud, with the others silently agreeing or making passing comments, but Lucifer would just shut the conversation down before anyone gets too upset, mainly for himself. He doesn’t want to lose control over something trivial like this, he can’t, he won’t- he’s well above some minuscule pest like them, and it would be a waste of time and energy to be worried about someone who is clearly below him!

He’s already irritated with Yuki integrating themselves into your everyday life, but he’s also trying to fight the increasing sinking feeling in his stomach the more you both bond.

The more you two become more than acquainted with one another, the more Lucifer tries to fight and hide this feeling. He buries himself in more paperwork, practically locks himself in his study, avoids anyone’s questions or concerns, and has become overall snappier than usual. He’s even snapped on Lord Diavolo, Lord Diavolo of all people!

(Granted Diavolo just thought it was overall stress, so he just simply laughed it off, but it didn’t go unnoticed by everyone, including you).

Now Lucifer is not stupid, he’s a very intelligent and powerful demon, and he doesn’t have to say it to be known. He made sure to do some research himself on Yuki, and didn’t put anything past them. You’re still surrounded by demons who wouldn’t hesitate to swallow you whole if allowed, and some are still desperate enough to try anything, so he’s very cautious with others being around you.

Which leads to now, you being out again with that demon at The Fall. Ever since, Lucifer retired to his study, constantly checking his phone for any updates. He refused to look distressed in front of everyone, and he knows that you’re smart and not so gullible, you’ll be okay, you had to be.

It’s well going on 1 in the morning, and you still haven’t answered any of his calls and texts? You swore that you would always answer him, so something had to happen. What exactly were you doing? What exactly were you two doing? We’re you okay? Are you safe? Has that Yuki tried anything with you?

Were you two doing anything now?

All of these questions swirling around in his head, his worry only adding on to his frustrations and building tension going through his body.

He already marched down to the door, coat forgotten and tie undone, flinging it open and scowl so deep that his fangs were bared. That Yuki better hope that you come home in one piece and spotless, or else he will make sure that they regret being alive-

He couldn’t wipe the surprised look on his face when he made eye contact with you, who was matching his own expression, hand frozen in the air mid knock.

“Lucifer? What are you still doing up? Are you about to go somewhere?” His expression quickly morphed to one of high distaste, the irritation displaying clearly on his face and his grip tightening on the door.

“I was still awake waiting for you. Have you forgotten how to use a phone, or are you too good for one now that you’re with your ‘friend’. And I remember specifically telling you to let me know when you leave, did I not?”

“Oh. Well...my phone kinda died, but I was already on the way home and-”

“By yourself?! Do you know how irresponsible that is? Do you forget that you’re a mere human?”

His irritation is rising to pure anger at this revelation. So that demon didn’t even have the decency to walk you home? To make sure that you arrive safe? And yet you still have the nerve to spend time with them and practically ignore him?!-

“Well- um, Lucifer? Lucifer!”

He snapped out of his murderous thoughts, and stepped aside to let you in.

“Come inside now, it’s late, and we have much to discuss.”

Your face scrunched up, showing confusion in how he’s acting. You know that’s he mad about your phone being dead, but he’s mad enough to leave the door barely hanging on its hinges? But you knew that arguing or pointing it out would just make things escalate, so you just stepped past and began to make your way up the stairs.

You can feel his eyes bore into the back of your head, but you just didn’t understand why. It’s about more than just your phone, it seemed like he’s been on edge for awhile now. You want to approach him, to ask him what’s wrong, to have him open up, but of course Lucifer being Lucifer, it was to no avail.

You racked your brain as he lead you to his room and began the “conversation” about how irresponsible you were being (really it’s just him getting whatever he needed off his chest and not you giving any input). Was it because of you going out so late? No, you didn’t drink, you and Yuki stayed together the whole night, and you let him know hours before. Was it Yuki? Now that you’re think about it, he has been frowning more it seemed like every time you brought up their name-

The pieces are starting to fit together now.

Oh my Diavolo.

You couldn’t stop the words escaping from your mouth before you could realize it.

“Lucifer, are you jealous?”

He choked in the middle of his sentence, and the room went quiet. You’re pretty sure that you can’t even hear him breathing, and his face just went entirely blank, no expression whatsoever.

Oh no, you broke him-

A gust of wind erupted, so strong that you had to shield your eyes for a second, and when you removed your arm, you were met with massive black wings and a very enraged demon.

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back until you stumbled onto the bed, as he stalks closer and closer to you.

“Care to repeat yourself?”

You knew better than to respond, and you felt frozen on the bed. You also know that Lucifer won’t attack or try to kill you, but it didn’t take away from the fact that he has moments where he’s very intimidating, one of those moments being now.

He’s looking down at you like a predator would to its captured prey, his ruby eyes glowing deviously in the dim room. He didn’t stop moving until he was on top of you, caging you in.

“Me? Jealous?” He scoffed. “I am the Avatar of Pride, the most powerful being in this house, yet you assume that I’m jealous of a demon that’s beneath me? You insult me, MC.”

He took hold of your chin, “Do you not remember what I said when we made the pact? You are mine and mine alone. Not anyone else’s, but mine.”

You felt like your nerves were getting the best of you, but you couldn’t force yourself to tear away as he leaned closer. He sealed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, one that you gladly accepted, not before uttering the words that made your heart race even faster.

“Maybe I should remind you of who you belong to, hm?”

—-

“Had a fun night, MC?”

“Yeah, it was”, you coughed in your hand. “Very nice, very fun. We had a great time.”

“Hmmmmm...you and Yuki or you and Lucifer?”

“Asmo!”

He giggled, “I’m just saying dear. I don’t sense the pent-up sexual frustration from Lucifer anymore, and he seems back to normal and even relaxed. Though I must say MC, I wish that you had spent the night in my bed instead.”

“Of course you do Asmo.”

“Besides, I would have covered your hickeys much better-”

“ASMO-”

“MC, are you ready?”

Speak of the devil and he shall appear has never been more true than now, as Lucifer appeared behind you both, placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Huh? Oh, yes, sorry.”

“Eh? Where are you two going?”

“Out.”

“And without me?!”

“Yes. Now, leave us be”. Lucifer moved his hand from your shoulder to your own hand, leading you both out the door. You two had plans for the day after the...eye-opening talk from last night, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time than he already had.

Bonus:

Asmo waited until he heard the door click, and then quickly whipped out his D.D.D. to text Yuki. He knew that the plan was going to be a success! A tense Lucifer made things more difficult for everyone, and he has too much pride to open his mouth so he decided to step in and team up with Yuki, who already knew about the whole ordeal.

Lucifer was already on the edge of snapping and letting his primal instincts take over anyway, so Asmo just gave him a little push in the right direction.

Thank Diavolo the plan worked, or else it would be hell for them both. He did owe Yuki some exposure on his socials in exchange for this and backing off of you now, but it was well worth the trouble.

#obey me x reader #obey me reader insert #obey me Lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #Lucifer x reader #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me! #om! lucifer #OM! Lucifer x reader #dream’s 100 + 200 followers prompt special 💙

[onyxoverride]

My Little Fiancé - Zeke Jaeger x Reader, Reiner Braun x Reader [PART TWO]

PART ONE.

◙ warnings: SMUT. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. pussy eating, more cucking themes to threesome, cumplay, cum eating, objectification but make it sweet. double dicked down by big dick squad. my proof reading or lack thereof 

◙ word count: 3.2k 

◙ summary: Reiner has liked you since his childhood but when he comes back he sees you and Zeke are an item now. Don’t worry, the least you and Zeke could do is let him join in. This time he gets his turn inside you.

◙ note:  I wasn’t going to make a part two but... Zeke and Reiner brainrot makes my a happy mf. ALSO I REACHED 100 FOLLOWERS THANK YOU ILY!!! Your comments and reblogs and EVERYTHING make me so happy. You're more than welcome to come into my ask box and thirst with me over characters(ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

Reiner was right. The scratches you left on his thighs when you swallowed his cock were perfect jerk material. He couldn't even go to the bathroom without seeing them and getting at least a little erect. He is very much looking forward to when you two invite him over for dinner again. His mind is plagued with your moans and your teary eyes staring into his soul as your fiancé fucks you lifeless. He doesn't believe in gods but he's praying almost everyday for you as he tugs his dick to the memories of that day. The disappointment when those red scratches disappeared a few days later left him flaccid, he almost debated on scratching himself just to pretend but he shook that ridiculous thought out of his head. Instead he thinks about how obedient you were for Zeke, letting him direct you and use you. That really contrasted to how you were on his lap like a minx with a mission. 

When his prayers are answered it's not exactly for dinner, more for dessert… long after dinner time late in the evening on a weekend he makes sure the day after is clear because just the thought of you can leave him out of commission for hours but getting the chance to fuck you? He gives himself a day but he'd need more to fully mentally recover. He is but a weak man for beautiful women, and one as lewd as you? One that he's pined over? Fuck. 

He can feel his heart beating so clearly in his ears, the anxiety of the whole situation is snaking back up his spine. He's glad he ate dinner early and the ferocity he brushed his teeth at was frightening, he doesn't want to be caught with bad breath especially by you. His footsteps to Zeke and your apartment feel way too loud, and so does the knock on the door. But the quickness at which you open it is almost comical, and you look all too eager to see him. You've been excited this whole time. Yeah, you love Zeke, you're going to marry him, but having variety is appreciated and the obscenity of being fucked by another man while your to-be husband watches or you two being watched sends thrills down your spine and your skin heat up. You're ready, you've been waiting like a good girl for him to get here, Zeke made you strip to just a loose button up and the reason, well-

Reiner smiles at your sweet hellos, his cheeks already turning red at your attire or lack thereof. But your mischievous smile keeps him on his toes as you play with the collar of his shirt. He doesn't see Zeke anywhere in sight which is curious.

"Zeke told me to tell you something," there's a heady look settling in his eyes as you speak. He plays with the edges of your shirt, "yeah?" 

You nod sweetly, gravitating closer into his touch, "mmhm, he said and I quote "'if she isn't fucking soaked by the time you two get to the bed I'll kick you out and you'll never get to touch her again' something along those lines." He leads kisses along your neckline, rubbing his scruff roughly against your skin while he coughs out a chuckle. 

"Is that so?" A hand running up your thigh, "Guess I'll get to work then." Before you know it you are bent over the back of the couch and he's thrown off his shirt over it. Rough calloused hands and spreading the chub of your ass that's hiding your cunt out of the way for him to devour after he flipped the end of your shirt over your ass. He's on his knees for you, submitting to a prayer into your pussy that's soon to be leaking over his face. The desperate grasps for the couch pillows do nothing to help with the vulnerable position he's put you in and he's diving into your cunt, lapping at it desperately. He's sloppy, spreading your lips out with his tongue as firm as he can manage, spit covering your cunt combining with the slick it's producing. The mission of getting you wet is easily achieved but go big or go home right? 

His hands mold into your ass and thighs still spreading you wide as he presses his face deeper into you, his tongue lapping at your clit and hole as you wriggle and moan over the couch. Your feet can't even touch the ground and the pressure of the back of the couch digging into your abdomen is making catching your breath that much harder. The circles his tongue makes around the edges of your hole and the laps over your clit, he's not precise like Zeke who aims at your weak spots so perfectly and strategically, he's going head-in but his enthusiasm and the striking difference between him and Zeke make up for any downfalls. "Reiner- I-" you want to reach back and pull at his head off your cunt but you're trying to hold yourself up a bit to lessen the pressure your abdomen is taking. Really it makes the experience all the better, breathless groans breaking from your throat as Reiner is diligent in trying to get you to cum all over his face. He's dreamt of this, in different ways, different positions, and it's living up to his expectations. Your taste on his tongue is distinctly you, not sweet, not sour but insanely specific to you and that's what makes him love it so much. You can feel him groaning into you as he eats you out which makes your toes curl and the wave starting in your stomach is threatening to crash soon. He keeps his pace steady, so steady no matter how much you wiggle around and whine, your nails digging into the backing pillows as you get closer and closer to your climax. He presses your thighs into the back of the couch, groaning into your cunt as it clenches sporadically around his tongue and you swear you see a flash of blonde from your bedroom door out of the corner of your eye but you can't really focus as you cream on Reiners face. He's lapping up every bit of cum like a thirsty dog and finally he pulls back, out of breath, smirking at a job well done. 

"I'd say you're sufficiently- what did Zeke say?-" he pulls you by the back of your button up to stand on your feet, slick trailing down your thigh from your cunt, "'soaked.'" He sounds so smug, you would scold him but your knees are weak and you finally get to take a proper deep breath. Thankfully, he holds your hips firmly so you don't collapse into yourself. He kisses at your neck, keeping a flat hand over your belly to pull you away from the couch and closer to the bedroom. Maybe he shouldn't feel such pride and excitement to show Zeke what a good job he's done but fuck it's too late for that. 

Zeke sits in the chair Reiner occupied last time, legs spread, shirtless, finishing the end of a cigarette, pushing the butt into the ashtray near him. He can see the post-orgasmic bliss written all over your face and wobbly legs as you walk to him. The juices trailing down your leg shine a bit with the moonlight gliding through the windows, he technically doesn't need to check to see if you're soaked like he demanded but you're so obediently standing in front of him, he can't help but mold his hands into your body as you situate yourself between his thighs. 

Reiner watches as Zeke unbuttons your shirt, throwing it off you before he grasps your ass causing you to stumble and lean onto his bare shoulders. Fingers trailing up your thigh, smearing slick even more across the plains. 

"Reiner," Zeke lets out a short laugh, "You've outdone yourself. Guess you aren’t getting kicked out." Reiner can't help but let his chest swell with pride. Zeke presses his hands into your ribs, brushing the underside of your breast. "Go be good and spread your legs for him," he pushes roughly into your ribs towards the bed where you tug on Reiners hand to join you. He could combust right now, you look so sweet on the bed looking up to him, wanting him so sweetly to take you. 

This is what he's been waiting for. Sure, fucking your throat and watching you get destroyed by your partner was fun but this is what he wanted. You laying underneath him on the bed, legs spread to accommodate his thighs, no fabric barriers between the two of you. Granted your lover is watching the two of you like a hawk around two rabbits but that just makes this situation hotter. What's even hotter is Zeke's commentary as Reiner digs his hands into your body, into the meat of your thighs and ass, traveling to your chest to pinch at your nipples.

"She was excited for this, you know? My fiancé begging me to let you fuck her." your skin is heating up from embarrassment. Surely, Reiner doesn't need to know this much? "She squirmed on my cock to get on my good side, to convince me to let you fuck her brains out. Imagine that?" Reiners dick taps against your clit, running it along your lips, soaking it with your slick. "My little cocksleeve begging on my cock for another man. I mean, I planned on letting you anyways but it was sweet to see her so desperate like that." Reiners shoulders roll at the confession, "Is that right?" 

You turn your face into the sheets, you really don't want to confirm because even though you're spread wide for him it's more embarrassing to confront that you've begged to fuck him than to actually fuck him. Creaking of a chair, then your face is snapped forward to look at Zeke who's leaning over you, hand seizing your cheeks. "Don't pretend to be modest now." Zeke glares at you from over his glasses, "He asked you a question, whore." 

Having two sets of hands on your body is wholly distracting, but you have to answer or Zeke will be extra mean to you if you disobey. "Yes," you confirm and Zeke sends you a look to continue, "Y-yes, I begged for Reiner to fuck me." The sheets could swallow you whole and you'd be thankful but Zeke looks satisfied and Reiner borderline euphoric. 

You jolt a bit as you see your fiancé hit his back, "Well, get to it then! Don't want to keep a pretty toy like her waiting." But Reiner looks impossibly thick, you took him in your mouth sure, but your pussy is a different story. Zeke is a good length and curved, he never fails to please you but he isn't as thick as this. It's a little intimidating especially when he's trying to work the head into you. One small thrust to work more into you and you try to reach out to make him slow down with pushing his cock into you, "’s t-too big…" Zeke let's out an unsympathetic whistle. Of course, he doesn't want you to hurt for real, but watching you struggle is the best form of amusement to him. Reiner has mercy on you though, and doesn't push further into you. Your slick makes this easier and makes the burn less prominent, and now you're becoming thankful for Zeke and his forward thinking. 

Zeke leans over the spot where you and Reiner are partially connected, his hair almost brushing against the other man's chest. Slowly, he lets a string of spit descend from his mouth to settle on your entrance and Reiners cock. He could've left it at that but instead he leans down to lick at your clit brushing over Reiners dick, adding more spit to the mix to make it a bit easier for you to take. Having another man this close to his dick shouldn't be this attractive, but his tongue and your walls fluttering around his tip is exhilarating. "She should be fine," Zeke sits back on his henches and pushes at your chest to lay flat against the bed as you wiggle just a bit on his cock. Reiner takes this as a green light to slowly thrust into as you whine for him, hands grasping at Zeke's thighs. His thrusts into you pushes groans out of your chest from the thickness. He's stretching you out, walls clamping down on him like a vice, cock rubbing the soft spots in your walls that make tears gather in your eyes. He can feel you get closer and closer to cumming, with your mantra of fuckfuck-please-Reiner-fuck. Zeke nuzzles into your neck, biting into your skin and tweaking your nipples as Reiner drills into you. Your pussy constricting around him sporadically, he pushed one of your knees to your chest to fuck into you even faster which only sends you over the edge you were precariously tipping over, your nails digging into Zeke as you cream on Reiners cock. But he keeps going, the need to fill you up completely with him sending him into a frenzy, your cum adding to the lewd noises and tired, breathy whimpers. "Fuck." Just a few more thrust into your tightness and his cum floods your caverns, he stills. 

Zeke finally speaks up after a moment of silence, "holy shit," he presses down on your tummy and your walls flutter around Reiners cock before he pulls out, cum leaking out of your pussy. Zeke leans over once again, but this time he flattens his tongue over your hole, gathering the cum leaking out on his tongue, leaning back to hover over your mouth. He squeezes your cheeks to open your mouth, letting the collected cum and slick drop into your tongue. You swallow what he gives you obediently. 

You two are going to be the death of Reiner. Seriously, fuck. 

“My turn now,” Zeke flips you over onto your belly as Reiner settles near your head. Your thighs pushed together pushing more cum to slip out of your hole, Zeke spreads the chub of your cheeks out of his way to slip his cock into you. 

“Look at you love,” He presses deeply into you, leaning forward as you claw at Reiners thighs, “So well used. Stretched and fucked open just for me.” Your insides are wet, soaked with cum so the slide inside in is extremely easy. He rocks into you consistently, your walls tight around him, even tighter because of the position. Your slick and Reiners leftover cum in your cunt are dripping down his balls, every time he presses into you there’s a resounding wet slap. You are completely disheveled and fuzzy, like your head is stuffed with cotton, slurred curses slipping through your teeth as Zeke keeps his course. “Suck him off, ‘kay?” You respond with a teary nod as you pull Reiner to you. He won’t last long, he knows that but that may be a mercy on you. You do your best to suck him into your cheeks, hollowing them out as you drool on his cock. The rocking of Zeke’s hips into yours pushes you further and further down his cock, you don’t need to do much work like this thankfully, but your pet name of ‘toy’ is being fully defined by Zeke and Reiner using your body to get off. Zeke’s glasses are completely fogged over so he just throws them on Reiners thigh to make sure they don't get broken on the bed. The taste on Reiner’s cock is a mixture of you and him. You’re so close, so inevitably close. Your eyes rolling back into your skull as a refreshing orgasm rolls over you, harder than the last one and so tiring. Zeke pauses just for a moment as your cunt tightens and creams around him, adding to the sloshing liquids gathered around your hole, cum frothing on his cock. You are in a euphoric post-orgasmic headspace, being used by them. 

He bites and kisses around your shoulders, beard brushing against your skin, whispers of “Good toy, so sweet for me. Being so good for us” hitting your muffled ears. It only takes a few more swallows around Reiner for him to finish with a hiss between his teeth. Zeke pulls your head back by your throat as he keeps thrusting, he wants to hear your raspy groans unmuffled by cock for just a bit. The cute raspy wines of his name are worth it. You are past overstimulation, it hurts just a bit but in a good way. Zeke keeps going, you know he’s close by the sweetness he mumbles into your skin. The praise makes your skin hum and you wish you could be extra good and push your hips back on him but this position doesn’t allow for that and all the strength in your body is borderline nonexistent, all you can do is take what’s dished out to you. You claw at Reiners calves as Zeke ruts into one last time, balls deep to fill you entirely with cum. 

He stays inside as he massages your back, he’s painfully observant and knows you are tired and sore already. “So good, so good for us,” at this point Zeke sounds like a broken record, but it warms your heart especially with Reiner holding your cheeks so tenderly, like you’re made of glass. When he does pull out he takes a moment to sit back and observe the cum being pushed out of your cunt, messy and smeared with your previous endeavors, puffy and abused by dick. It's a sweet sight. It’s tempting to eat you out like this but you’d just whine and squirm too much and he doesn’t feel like dealing with your kicking legs… though the breathy whines would be worth it...

Reiner can see Zeke smiling down at you where you can’t see, this is one of the rare times he has seen him look so… soft. Caring, delicate. A side of him he wasn’t able to see last time. Zeke already knows what to do for the rest of the night, he’ll make sure you both are washed up, you’ll tug at his sleeve to make you toast with butter and honey—and he will, he always will, and he’ll bring you a cup of tea to go along with it—you’ll curl up between his legs and pass out until the next day. 

“Reiner, go get them washed up.” Ah- he didn’t really expect to stay after this but it’s the least he could do for screwing the brains out of his fiancé, so he gathers you up in his arms to give you a lazy shower. Zeke considers that maybe, he can make some extra toast, and maybe another cup of tea for Reiner too. He did tell him to keep his day free tomorrow, the least he could do is let him sleep over. Plus, the seasons are changing and it's getting cold, might as well let you have another cuddle buddy. 

“There’s extra clothes in my dresser as well,” Zeke steps out of the room. You send Reiner a tired sugary smile, he’s starting to be really satisfied with his choice of joining the two of you in this weird trio.

𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔟𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔤 <3

//: 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

#⚫.filth #◆.aot #❖.zeke jaeger #❖.reiner braun #⚠️.objectification #⚠️.threesome #⚠️.cumplay #⚠️.pussy eating #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #zeke jaeger smut #zeke yaeger #zeke jaeger x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #attack on titan lemon #zeke jaeger x reader x reiner braun #reiner smut #snk x reader #snk x y/n #snk x you #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #aot smut #⚫.writing #⚠️.dom/sub dynamic #zeke smut

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

#criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotch & spencer #spencer #hotch #my writing #autistic spencer reid #autistic spencer #dad hotch

[n0wornever]

One Chance - Luke Patterson x Reader

Can you do a Luke x reader fic where Julie, Alex and Reggie all convince y/n to go on a date with Luke and maybe it’s to the beach or stargazing?

Circa 1995

Y/N sat at her desk, tapping her pencil against the hard wood. She peered over at the clock, seeing 2 p.m. in bright red blinking back at her. Another afternoon wasted on homework. Her disgruntled monologue was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Come in!” She shouted.

Her eyes landed on a talk blonde and beaming brunette entering her room. Their eyes fell toward the flowers on her desk, and back to her face. She sighed, knowing exactly what they came here to talk to her about.

“Y/N, he’s been pacing in the garage for the past few hours...you could at least give him an answer.” Alex said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked closer toward her.

She bit down on her bottom lip. It had been hours ago but her brain had been racing so much since he showed up on her porch with daisies, it felt like she hadn’t had a second to properly process his request.

Luke had never been shy about his feelings toward her, but she had always thought that he would never act upon them. “He’s a flirt” she said to her friends when they questioned why the two weren’t an item yet, “he rarely means it.”

However, that August afternoon, it appears that she had been wrong. Luke rang her doorbell and she opened the door to his bright smile. Her eyes fell to his shaking hand that held a bouquet of flowers. She met his eyes again with a raised eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe.

“What gives, Patterson. What are you apologizing for this time?”

He rolled his eyes, pushing the flowers out to in her direction. She grabbed them carefully, keeping her eyes narrowed at him as she clutched the stems in her hands.

“No apologies, I’m here to....formally...” He took a deep breath, biting down on his lower lip “Ask you out on a date?”

Both of her eyebrows were raised at this point, eyes gaping at the soft red that fell on the boy’s cheeks. Luke’s flirting always seemed harmless, but the way his green eyes softened as he spoke today brought a pinch to her chest that she was unfamiliar with. He seemed honestly nervous as he let his eyes fall to his feet in her silence.

“Luke, I-. Can I think about it for a bit? I’m just... a little confused I just.”

Luke met her eyes again as he started to talk again.

“Take all the time you need,”  He said, taking a step back. “But know that this isn’t a joke, prank, dare or whatever you think it may be. I- I’m laying it all out here, Y/N.” His hands stretched out in distress. “Just...let me know.”

She watched as he turned his back toward her and walked toward his beat-up truck. She stayed on the porch as he drove away, clutching the white flowers to her chest as her gaze followed the blue truck down her street.

She was at a loss in that moment. Confused, nervous and anxious all bottled up into a frustrating cocktail of emotions. She finally closed the door and leaned against it, sighing. Luke was sweet, funny and attractive, she couldn’t lie about any of that. But ever since she had her heart broken over a year ago by her first boyfriend, she hadn’t had the heart to move forward.

Luke felt like danger and passion and romance, all wrapped up in a beautiful bow, but Jake felt like that too at the beginning of their relationship. She walked over to the kitchen, opening a cabinet and grabbing an empty vase. She placed the flowers inside, walking over to the sink to fill the pitcher with water. As she walked up to her room, she thought about what a date with Luke would be like. Would she be at ease with him? Would she immediately destroy any chance they had on previous fears bubbling to the surface? The possibility made her want to stay at arm’s length from the boy forever.

Y/N shook her head at her friends who stared at her with wide eyes. Her teeth found her lip, nipping away at the skin. Their eyes grilled her with the only question she refused to answer. Her eyes moved toward the floor as she clasped her hands in her lap. Shortly, a hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up to Alex’s blue eyes.

“Y/N, it’s okay to put yourself out there.”

Reggie appeared on the other side of her, placing his hand opposite Alex’s. He gave her a warm smile, nodding along to his bandmate’s sentiment.

“He’s right, you deserve to be happy...and I’ve seen how you are around Luke. I haven’t seen you smile like that in awhile...”

Y/N squinted her eyes, trying to ignore the oncoming tears. She knew that she had to move past heartbreak and let herself feel again, but that process seemed so much easier left in her head, not actively acted upon.

“Guys, I....I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve been hurt, Y/N. It’s okay to be anxious about dating again,” Alex replied, squeezing her shoulder. “But I know as soon as you get yourself back out there, that anxiety will melt away in time.”

“You also have to remember who was there through your breakup...” Reggie reminded her.

Luke sat up with her all night as she cried and spiraled through the same three confusing trains of thought the night that Jake broke up with her. The two had only been friends for a few weeks at the time, but Luke was the first to offer a box of tissues and an unlimited amount of time on his shoulder to cry. A small smile ghosted across her face at the memory of his hand wiping away her tears from her cheek.

“Yeah, I know.”

She released her hands, letting them sit on her thighs. Alex winked at her, patting her back before walking toward her door.

“Just... put him out of his misery so we can stop hearing about how you ‘haven’t called’ or ‘hate him forever’ please?” The blonde joked, overexaggerating the air quotes.

She giggled, nodding at them both as they disappeared out the door. She fell back onto her chair, chewing on her pencil as she stared at her yellow phone on the edge of her desk. She studied it for a moment before picking up the receiver. She started to type a number, before pressing her finger down on the base to end the call. She sighed, typing the full number out this time and moving the speaker to her ear.

The phone rang a few times before it picked up. She heard a soft panting before his voice rang through the phone.

“Patterson household, Luke speaking.”

Her grin grew with his formality. “Mr. Patterson, it’s Y/N, have time to chat?”

His giggle was picked up by the speaker before he spoke again “Of course, always have time for you.”

She was happy he couldn’t see how red he made her cheeks at that moment. She let the chord wind around her finger as she started to speak again.

“I wanted to follow up on a request you had earlier today...”

He stayed silent on his end, causing her heart rate to spike. Had he already forgotten? Alex and Reggie said he’d been waiting for her response, but maybe they had overexaggerated his actual interest?

“Thank god.” He finally said, she could hear his dimpled smile through the phone.

“I was wondering...” She started, swallowing the lump in her throat. “If the offer still stands?”

He went quiet again and Y/N was left listening to the thumping in her chest. She wasn’t used to this anymore, the anxiety and nerves that came with firsts. She focused on the corner of her room as she waited for his response.

“...Are you saying that it’s a yes? Because if so, definitely.” Luke said in a rush. “But if you’re going to say no again, I’m going to say no, the offer never even existed.”

She giggled, hearing a relaxed breath on his end from her response. She leaned forward, placing her elbow on the desk and pressing her face onto her hand.

“I wanted to say... “ She blinked back the nerves a few times. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Luke.”

“Nothing has ever sounded so beautiful in my entire life,” He said cooly. Except for maybe your voice in general.”

“You’re a cheeseball, Patterson.”

“Yeah, a cheeseball who has a date with a beautiful girl secured, I’m okay with that.”

The laughter that fell from of her lips was out of her control at this point, her face hurting from smiling so much.

“Pick you up at 7?”

“Sounds great.”

She set the phone back down on it face and ran a hand through her hair. She stared at her closet in dismay. What the heck was she going to wear for this first date?

She stood up, opening the doors to her racks of clothing. She pulled out flannels, dresses and t-shirts, but nothing felt right. Her eyes landed on a familiar logo and she grabbed the shirt immediately. It was an old Sunset Curve shirt that Luke had made for her to wear to their show. She squeezed the soft fabric between her fingers before setting it down on her bed. She pulled out a pair of ripped skinny jeans and smiling down at her creation.

She sat in the mirror, applying lipstick as the doorbell rang. She blotted her lips quickly before rushing down the stairs. She opened the door to a waiting Luke, hands tied behind his back and a smug grin on his lips. He looked down at her shirt and back up to her eyes.

“Nice choice, but it won’t earn you brownie points,” He shot a wink in her direction.

“Like I need them?”

He suppressed a giggle as he nodded at her response. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her. He led her to his truck, grabbing her hand in his. As the approached the vehicle, Luke opened the passenger side door, letting go of her hand as she slid in. As he moved into the driver’s side, she eyed the basket beneath her.

“So, where are we going?”

He smiled, keeping his eyes fixed on her garage in front of his truck. His hand came up to rest behind her head as he pulled back onto the street, zooming forward. As they passed streetlights and stop signs, she tried to take in any clues she could, but she came up empty. Her mind was left wandering until a specific exit sign came into view.

“Are we going to the beach?”

He didn’t respond, but the small smile that played at his lips gave her everything that she needed to know. She grinned, watching the cars go by out the window as the drove down the highway.

As the pulled into their parking spot, Y/N eyed the mostly empty sand. It was dusk and most families had headed home for the night. She had never seen this place so silent. She opened her door to double-check the view she took in. No screaming, just the sound of waves crashing onto the shore. Luke unbuckled his seatbelt and jumped out of the car. He walked over to her side, holding out his hands to guide her out.  She let go of his hands to shut the door behind her.

He clutched her hand again as he led her down to the shoreline. He grabbed the blanket from inside the basket and spread it out in front of them. He sat down first, patting a open spot next to him. She fell down next to him, taking a deep breath of the salty air as she settled in. He grabbed two glasses out of the wicker basket and a bottle of wine.

“Your mom is going to kill you,” She said nervously, but a smile was plastered on her face.

“She has so many, she won’t miss it.”

He opened the bottle and poured a glass, handing it over to her. He poured one for himself before placing the cap on and setting the bottle aside. He rose his glass in her direction, and hers met his in the middle, clinking them together. She let her gaze fall on the water as she took a sip, the liquid immediately warming her insides.

“So, why the beach?” She asked, guiding her eyes back to his face.

That wide smile placed itself on his face again as he took a large sip from his glass before responding.

“You remember that night I brought you here?”

She sighed, remembering that Luke had sped to her house the night of the breakup. He wouldn’t let her sit in her room anymore, practically forcing her out of her bed and into his car. He drove straight to this spot that night, holding her under the full moon.

“Yeah, not my brightest shining moment,” She admitted, taking another gulp of the red wine.

He shook his head “You were just fine. I just remembered how upset you were that night,” His voice faltered at the end of the sentence. “I-I just wanted to bring you back here so you could have happier memories of this place.”

She couldn’t even hide the blush that ran across her face in that moment. Her heart raced as Luke’s gaze zeroed in on hers. She had no words to describe how the scene around her fell away as she looked into his green eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip as she smiled at him.

“That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” She said quietly, watching as his cheeks turned pink in the lowlight.

She set her glass down carefully before moving over to his side of the blanket. She hovered over him for a moment, hearing a slight gasp fall from his lips. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you,” She whispered.

He nodded, eyes falling across her face. Before she knew it, Luke was lifting himself up to meet her, pressing his lips onto hers softly. It lasted not even a second, but the moment his lips left hers, she immediately missed them. She let her eyes flutter open before falling back to her spot on the sand.

The two sat a quiet, bashful mess as they watched each other in silence, the water wrapping around them.

.

.

.

Tag list: @xplrreylo @lovesanimals , @anythingandeverythingfandom , @crybabyddl , @oswin05 , @themaddies-obx , @lukeys-giggle , @bumbleberry-pie @kiss-themoongoodbye  @marinettepotterandplagg , @lolychu , @bathtimejish , @dasexydevitt13 @musicconversedance , @txrii  @bestdressedandstressed @daisiesforlacey  @epikskool  @bookfrog247 @carleywhittaker @princessvader15 @rudysbay @spooky-season-bitch  @kcd15  @meangirlsx @itz-jas @parkeret @writerinlearning @calamitykaty ​ @dani27297 @whatever-happens-imma-stand-tall​

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson fanfiction #jatp #julie and the phantoms

[lady-of-the-lotus]

It’s not Wei Wuxian’s fault that A-Yuan thinks he’s a rabbit, or Jiang Cheng’s fault that toddler Jin Ling used to Zidian to short out the city’s power grid, or Xue Yang’s fault that little A-Qing was strapped to his chest during a motorcycle joyride down the highway, but they are stuck going to family counseling, along with a bored Lan Wangji, a giggly Xiao Xingchen, an out-to-lunch Lan Xichen, and an indignant Jin Guangyao. A lonely Nie Huaisang gets in on the action by joining all twenty group chats and sending way too many gifs.

And, all the while, a rebellion is brewing on Wangxian’s block, their neighbors driven mad by the incessant midnight duets.

Poor Dr. Wen Qing, child psychologist and therapist extraordinaire. What has she done to deserve this?

Read On AO3!

Or read below if the spirit so moves you:

There’s a letter nailed to the door when they arrive home.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and reads it aloud.

“ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable ‘presents’ on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

Lan Wangji unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

* *  * *

One month earlier:

It's all the daycare’s fault, really. And also the gang’s mutual pediatrician for getting involved and setting them up with a family therapist.

And they all know they should be grateful that the authorities are letting them off easy. But—

Weekly family therapy sessions that double as parenting classes? They all already know how to change diapers and hide the matches and make airplane noises.

And none of it’s not any of their faults. More of a…

“Series of misunderstandings,” explains Wei Wuxian to Dr. Wen Qing. “I’m sure when you hear the full story, you’ll laugh too. Right, Lan Zhan?”

“I don’t think she ever laughs,” whispers Xue Yang to Xiao Xingchen, who can’t see Dr. Wen’s impassive face but dissolves into a fit of giggles anyway.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at the two of them and turns to Dr. Wen. “How long is this going to take? My new fashion line launches next week! I don’t have time for this—ow!” He jerks around at A-Yuan, who's gazing up at him innocently. He glares at Wei Wuxian. “Your carrot-brained little son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops his son up onto his lap. “Don’t worry, A- Yuan, Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it—”

“Thumper!” A-Yuan corrects him.

“I’m sorry. Don’t worry, Thumper , Uncle Cheng didn’t mean it.”

“That’s normal,” says Xue Yang. “ ‘Thumper’?”

Xiao Xingchen hushes him.

“I just meant I’d go for a better name,” Xue Yang goes on. “Like Iago or Mushu if we’re picking from annoying cartoon animals. Doesn’t Thumper get shot?”

“You’re thinking of Bambi,” says Meng Yao irritably. He doesn’t look up from his phone as his finger moves in a blur over the screen. He’s missing several important meetings to be here. “He's the one who gets shot.”

A- Yuan’s eyes are huge. “Bambi gets shot?”

“No, Bambi’s mother gets shot,” Xue Yang explains.

A- Yuan bursts into tears.

Lan Wangji shoots Xue Yang a look that’s pure poison.

Dr. Wen clears her throat. “This is perhaps a good example of the dysfunction that—"

“Don’t worry, Thumper’s parents are just fine!” Wei Wuxian tells A- Yuan, squeezing the boy tighter. “Jiang Cheng, show him their pictures on your phone!”

“Do you think I have cartoon rodents as my wallpaper?”

“Google it!”

“Kid’s got to learn about death sometime.” Xue Yang places a lollipop in A-Yuan’s plump little hand. A-Yuan grins at him through his tears. Xue Yang is the kids’ favorite, to the jealousy of everyone but Xiao Xingchen, who is just as beloved. “See? Now he’ll always remember it as something sweet.”

The entire group gives him a Look, save Xiao Xingchen, who’s smiling and nodding.

Sometimes I think he’s deaf as well as blind , Meng Yao texts the others. There are an endless number of group chats, with most created just to complain about the people not on that specific group chat.

WWX : That’s cruel, but...

Jiang Cheng makes an impatient sound. Jin Ling is perched on his knee, slobbering on his custom lotus-patterned purple leather cell phone case. He takes his phone out of the toddler’s mouth and sets him down on the floor. “Can we move this along? Some of us have better things to do.”

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Jiang.” Dr. Wen glances around the circle of folding chairs. “Now, do we all know why we’re here? Mr. Xue? Would you like to go first?”

Xue Yang stops picking at his chipped black nail polish. “What?”

“Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Xue?”

“I told A-Qing to stop biting people unless they really deserve it, and besides, she’s fully vaccinated, so I don’t see the problem there—”

“Mr. Xiao? Any ideas?”

Xiao Xingchen clears his throat and shuffles his sandaled feet, nervously smoothing the fringe on his oversized tie-dye poncho. “I’m not exactly sure why we’ve been included in a Jiang family therapy session, to be quite honest.”

“Your husband and daughter have been…implicated in some of the group’s…let’s call them mishaps, and as your daughter has adopted A- Yuan’s rabbit fixa—wait a minute, where is your daughter?”

“Xingchen’s got her,” shrugs Xue Yang.

JC - JGY - WWX - Jin Ling’ Uncles

JGY : *That’s* reassuring...

JGY : They make baby leashes for a reason

WWX : Lan Zhan threatened to buy me one the last time we went to the mall. I was lost for a half hour

JC : Are you sure he wasn’t just trying to lose you in the crowd?

WWX : Actually, I think Lan Zhan *did* buy the leash in the end…

*Jiang Cheng has left the chat*

Dr. Wen inclines her head. “Your husband is beside you, Mr. Xue. Your daughter is not.”

Xue Yang cranes his neck around the room. “I’m sure she’s fine, wherever she is. Unrelated question, are all of the valuables around here locked up, or—?”

“Mr. Xue—”

“We’ll know soon enough anyway. Is there an alarm system? No, don’t tell me. I’d rather be surprised. Be right back.” He tucks his phone inside his ripped black jeans and leaves the room, whistling. The clomp of his heavy combat boots disappears down the hall.

“Don’t worry,” says Xiao Xingchen, who seems to have missed a good half of what his husband has said, as usual. “This happens all the time. A-Qing has an excellent sense of direction.”

WWX - JGY - XY - JC - LWJ - Cabbage Patch Kids

JC : What the hell does that mean? The kid’s like 5

WWX : 3, tops

JC : No way she’s 3. She stole my watch last time she played w Jin Ling

LWJ : Are you certain that wasn’t her father?

NHS : XXC would never hahaha 😭 😭 😭

WWX : Huaisang! Whassup!

NHS:

WWX: You change the chat name again? I like it.

JC: Can he take my place here? This whole thing is inane

WWX : "Inane"! So you *have* been using the Word of the Day calendar Lan Zhan bought you!

JC : Shut up

JGY : Like a 5-year-old stealing a watch makes any more sense than a 3-year-old?

WWX : Oh we’re back on that?

NHS : Who stole who’s what now?

LWJ : *whose

JGY : Jiang Cheng was robbed by a toddler.

JC : Don’t you have some corporate espionage to go do or someone’s job to steal or something?

NHS:

JC: Send one more gif and I reach through your phone and strangle you

NHS:

WWX: Did you watch Shrek again without us? That’s A- Yuan’s fav movie

NHS: ur always so busy w lwj n the baby n playing w ur corpses lately!

Dr. Wen sighs. “All right, then. Who would like to go next? Mr. Jiang? How about you? Phones away, everyone, please.”

Jiang Cheng makes a show of being annoyed at having to look up from his phone. “I shouldn’t even be here. This is idiotic.”

WWX - NHS

WWX: Or “inane”

NHS:

“That’s not what the power company report says, Mr. Jiang. Now, I don’t mean to accuse you of anything, but there are concerns—”

“I swear Zidian was depowered when I gave it to Jin Ling to play with,” Jiang Cheng says irritably. “He teethed on that thing for months as a baby. It’s fine.”

WWX -XY - LWJ - JGY - 🧟 🍬 🐇 🤠

JGY: Did Jiang Cheng just tell a mandated reporter that he let Jin Ling teethe on his magic lightning whip?

XY: dammit Im missing all the good stuff!

LWJ: *I’m

NHS:

JGY: You’re wasting my phone’s memory with these ridiculous gifs.

NHS: *inane gifs

XY: Jiggy why don’t you just have your 🍬 🍭 👦👨 buy you a fancy new phone with more memory?

NHS:

WWX: XY did you find A-Qing?

NHS: He lost A-Qing again?

LWJ: …Again?

XY: NHS do you like your tongue where it is or

NHS:

JGY: ?

XY: fingers. whatever.

WWX: I'm lost too

XY: nvm

JGY: That was edifying.

“Now, Mr. Jiang, I don’t mean to insinuate that you let your three-year-old nephew play unsupervised with a dangerous weapon that mistakenly activated and went on to fry the power grid and knock out all power within a five-mile radius for two weeks—”

JGY: Despicable inefficiency

“—or that you took him to a weapons expo, because, I quote ‘He’s going to have to learn to fight eventually anyway’—”

“It was an archery range.”

WWX - LWJ - NHS - Wen Chao Sucks!

WWX: Start ‘em young

NHS: i think it's inane

NHS: WWX? did LWJ smile at that one?

LWJ: No

WWX: He’s laughing on the inside

NHS: how….inane

“Mr. Jiang? Have you any response?”

Jiang Cheng crosses his arms over his chest. Jin Ling is hopping around on the floor with A- Yuan. Obviously not electrocuted, Jiang Cheng thinks, so what’s the problem? “So when my brother blows out the entire neighborhood’s power doing illegal experiments in his garage it’s okay, but I plug a space heater into the same outlet as a toaster and I’m suddenly the devil incarnate?”

NHS - WWX - JGY - Two Bros & A Guy

NHS : Why would you need a space heater in the kitchen? what I do is turn the oven on and that gets the room all hot

WWX : I think you need a new oven

NHS : Are ovens not supposed to do that??

WWX : Do fridges radiate cold?

NHS : I never thought about it that way 🤔

JGY : In the history of the world, nobody ever has.

WWX : Also, all of my illegal experiments are electricity-free.

JGY : …Jin Ling is never spending the night at your house again.

WWX : I said electricity-FREE!

JGY : Because a fridge full of corpses that you and that psychotic hooligan are trying to raise from the dead is so much better.

WWX : A) it’s a top-of-the-line industrial freezer, not a fridge, and B) those corpses were ethically-sourced—locally-sourced, anyway—

NHS : free-range & organic

WWX : zip it Huaisang

NHS : 🐓

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard with her pen. “Mr. Jiang, nobody's accusing you of anything. This is simply—”

“Whatever. What about him?” Jiang Cheng jerks a thumb at Meng Yao. “At least I didn’t set fire to anything.”

Meng Yao straightens up indignantly. “That was an accident!”

Dr. Wen looks like she wants to go home. “According to the fire marshal’s report, it—”

“I’m so terribly sorry I’m late!” A slightly disheveled Lan Xichen appears in the doorway, Xue Yang behind him. “I locked my keys in the car, and was going to call AAA, but then I remembered that we aren’t members—did you know you have to be a member?—plus my phone—”

Xue Yang slaps him on the back. His other hand, gloved as always, is holding A-Qing by the hand. Her oversized pockets clink suspiciously as she runs to go play with A-Yuan and Jin Ling. Today Xue Yang has dressed her in a pink poodle skirt, black boots with frilly socks, and a black T-shirt with the words “Daddy’s Little Delinquent” in pink script, pulling her hair into spiky little pigtails.

“—and the look the bus driver gave me when I tried paying with the $50 I luckily had in my pocket!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Xue Yang says. Over the years, an odd friendship has sprung up between him and Lan Xichen. “He has a stamped bus pass and everything. Look at the poor man. Had to squash in with the hoi poloi. He won’t be over this for weeks.”

Lan Xichen is blinking too much. “And someone on the bus stole my wallet, though I could have sworn I left the bus with it—”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, who grins at him and pats the bulging pocket on her frilly pink skirt.

JC - WWX

JC : Why is my lead fashion designer wearing CROCS??

WWX : His house keys must have been on the same keychain. Lan Zhan said he took today off from work

JC : Okay but why are they orange?

WWX : Not everything he owns has to be blue, you know

JC : His contract clearly states at least three out of every four articles of clothing have to be blue!

WWX : Relax, lil bro

JC : He’s the face of our Overly Elaborate Yet Elegantly Simple Eveningwear division!

NHS : Who is?

JC : GET BIRD BRAIN OFF THIS CHAT OR I SWEAR TO ZIDIAN—

NHS : 😿 who just showed up? Xichen?

WWX : Yup he just arrived after a harrowing bus experience

NHS : https://cutt.ly/Mks2dgu ?

JC : Does anyone actually like when people send them links??

NHS : https://cutt.ly/hks21H8

Meng Yao is wearing what Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang call his "customer service smile," a holdover from his dark days in retail. It's the closest he ever gets to showing irritation towards his fiancé. “Why didn’t you Uber over, Xichen?”

“I locked my phone in the car with the keys—”

“It’s fine, Mr. Lan," says Dr. Wen. "Please have a seat. You’re just in time. After all, you were mentioned by name in the fire marshal’s report, along with the somewhat contradictory descriptions of ‘dazed’ and ‘hysterically sobbing,’ which naturally piqued my interest—”

Lan Xichen seats himself beside Meng Yao. He's still looking somewhat frazzled Then again, his main two facial expressions are “gentle smile” and “mild anxious look.” “That was an accident. The fire, I mean. A little mishap.”

“Gentlemen, all of these incidents cannot be mere ‘accidents’—”

“I was meditating and A-Ling wandered in and knocked over the incense burner,” Lan Xichen explains hurriedly. Meng Yao, well-practiced as he is at hiding his emotions, winces slightly. “The window was open, and there was a breeze, and A-Yao just bought these new gauzy curtains that tend to flap about quite a bit—”

XY - JGY - LWJ - JC - NHS - Crossing Us Is A *Great* Idea

XY : And burn quickly

NHS : What am I missing???

XY : Insurance fraud

NHS:

XY : Yes. We’re all complicit now

JGY : Xue Yang, have you heard of a little something called libel?

XY : 🖕 We should go back to building with asbestos like they did in the good old days

JC : We’re all so glad you’re here, Xue Yang

NHS : I need to adopt a kid so I can join your group or something, this sucks, you get to go this secret club every week, jc I see wwx even less than you do

JC : stop talking

XY : What color baby you want, NHS?

JC : What the hell??

XY : That was a joke

NHS: ....

“…and I was so deep in meditation I didn’t notice the flames until the fire department arrived, but A-Ling was fine, just fine, and all the fire fighters were so very nice…”

WWX : Can confirm. Xichen was more traumatized than the kid. The firefighters had to wrap him in like fifty foil blankets

XY : XXC tells me Himbo stayed with you a full week, was that why? my boy didn't tell me

LWJ : “Himbo”? He got 1600 on his SAT.

XY: Term of endearment he knows he’s my boy plus the guy locked his keys and phone in the car for the second time this month

JC : At least he feels remorse over his child endangerment, unlike certain other people I could mention

LWJ : "Child endangerment"?

XY : Tell us again about how Jin Ling used to teethe on Zidian, JC?

NHS:

“Dr. Wen will be pleased to know that my apartment is now fully equipped with a top-of-the-line sprinkler system,” says Meng Yao smoothly. “No more incense, either. This unfortunate incident will never be repeated again.”

XY - WWX - JC - Odd Man Out

XY : At least not until the insurance money runs out

WWX : 😒

XY : Not that he needs it, after landing Himbo

NHS:

WWX: Those jokes really aren't funny

NHS: 😔

JC: Dammit NHS are you in every chat?? Did you change the chat names? Why aren't you showing up on half the participant lists?? Did you hack our phones or what??

NHS: Don’t be so *inane*

Wei Wuxian titters.

“Mr. Wei? Since you seem so eager to speak, perhaps we should move onto your issues, then.”

Wei Wuxian straightens up and points to his chest, the picture of innocence. “Me?”

Dr. Wen smiles thinly. “You, Mr. Wei. Perhaps you can tell us your side of what the school is referring to as ‘The Radish Incident.’ ”

“Well….” Wei Wuxian darts a glance over at Lan Wangji, who is as impassive as ever. “I was just burying him for fun, you know. We like to pretend he’s a radish—“

“A radish?”

“It’s a…you know. A game. I personally like potatoes better, but—”

“Mr. Wei, several parents complained to the school.”

“Because we were hogging the sandbox.”

“Because your son was running around screaming ‘I’m a chubby little radish boy!’ Which in itself would not be cause for concern. But coupled with his troubling behavior the following week—"

XY - JC - JGY - Two Men & A Half

XY : Where did she get these records? Who does she work for, the NSA?

NHS : She’s an astronaut?

JGY : How did you sneak into this chat? And did you rename it?

NHS : 😉

JGY: You're what, an inch taller than me?

XY: someone struck a nerve

JGY: It's just derivative of the other group chat, that's all.

NHS : u said no to "gettin' jiggy w it" i had no other choice. anyway what's happening over there?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

NHS : who a-yuan?

JC : I’ll give Dr. W this, that kid is weird.

JC : I mean, he’s my nephew, he’s a great kid, that’s not what I’m meant—

XY : *delete delete*

JC : How does your hippie husband put up with you??

JGY : We suspect brainwashing or blackmail.

“—when he decided he was a rabbit or," Dr. Wen continues, "or, as he put it, ‘Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunny Boy.”

“He is Daddy’s Huggy Little Bunn—"

“And only responds to the name ‘Thumper,’ refuses to eat anything other than carrots or food containing carrots, insists on wearing bunny ears—"

XY - NHS

XY : If it’s good enough for Louis Belcher, it’s good enough for Freaky Little Bunny Boy

NHS:

you watch the show too?? I call mingjue “bob” - u know - grumpy mustache guy

XY : I’m sure that’s gone over well

NHS: he’ll learn to love it

XY : A-Qing loves Louis

NHS:

“—hops around instead of walking, and has convinced others of the same…fantasy.”

Everyone glances over at the three children, who are hopping in a circle. A-Yuan has a fluffy little tail on the seat of his pants, carefully sewn on by Lan Wangji. Jin Ling has a handful of cotton balls that had been badly superglued on by an annoyed Jiang Cheng. And A-Qing has a wad of blue cotton candy taped to her frilly pink skirt with a strip of duct tape. As they watch, Jin Ling rips the cotton candy off and stuffs it in his mouth. A-Qing shoves him onto his cottony rear end.

“That’s my girl!” Xue Yang calls.

“Daddy’s proud of you!” Xiao Xingchen adds, though he’s not quite sure what’s going on.

Dr. Wen sighs. “I’m still unclear about how this started. Was it the rabbit incident? Mr. Lan—" She nods her head at Lan Wangji to differentiate between the brothers. Lan Xichen has fallen asleep in his chair, exhausted by his first-ever bus ride. “—I mean, I beg your pardon, Dr. Lan. Perhaps you can fill us in on that? He told his teacher he was attacked by a rabbit monster."

“So he was bitten by one rabbit!” Wei Wuxian says when Lan Wangji just eyes her coldly. “It wasn’t Lan Zhan’s fault. That rabbit was bad news. It had this gleam in its eye—lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eyes—"

Xiao Xingchen emits a muffled little squeak. Xue Yang looks annoyed. He hates when other people make Xiao Xingchen laugh.

NHS - JC

NHS:

JC: yes yes we all get the Jaws reference

NHS: the last movie we all watched together : /

JC: yes I just said that

NHS: like three months ago

JC: and?

NHS: just saying...

“He was scared of the rabbits after that, and so Lan Zhan told him that rabbits only bite their own, and, well…I mean, we have a hundred rabbits in our backyard. It was either rehoming them and making the news like those crazy cat people, or making A-Yuan feel better.”

A-Yuan hops past, wiggling his cotton tail.

Jiang Cheng rubs his temples.

“All right, Mr. Wei. Thank you. That’s…elucidating. We’ll delve into that in future sessions. Now, perhaps we can discuss the June 7th incident involving you and Mr. Xue?”

Xiao Xingchen starts to laugh again. Xue Yang grins to himself.

LWJ - JC

LWJ : What happened on the 7th?

JC : Am I my brother’s keeper??

“Now, the seventh? I was…hard to remember, all that time ago…” Wei Wuxian taps his chin. "The mists of time and all that."

“It was three weeks ago, Mr. Wei.”

“The seventh….the seventh…was that a Tuesday—?”

“Wen Chao had it coming,” said Xue Yang. Smirking, he twirls his ponytail around a finger. His ponytail is long and sleek and sprouts from the top of his head like an 80s schoolgirl's. “Amiright, ‘Mr. Wei’?”

Wei Wuxian coughs. “You mean the Wen Chao who lives on Qishan Road? That Wen Chao?”

“That spoiled rich kid?” Jiang Cheng asks. (“As if you’re one to talk,” says Xue Yang.) “With the oversized Humvee and tractor-sized tires with spinning rims? Zipping down the street at all hours and blasting his music? I went to college with him. He used to leave double-deckers in the bathroom at frat parties.”

Dr. Wen swallows a long-suffering sigh. “Thank you, Mr. Jiang. I’m sure that information will prove most helpful in evaluating your brother’s case. Mr. Wei, your arrest, combined with the Huggy Little Bunny Boy Incident, does not fill me with confidence.”

“Not arrested—"

“Taken for questioning,” Xue Yang agrees. “By the neighborhood watch. Golf dads and wine moms. Very different from 'arrested.' "

"And you should know," says Meng Yao.

JC - JGY

NHS : What’s going on? What am I missing????

JGY: Did you just make a new group chat? Your name isn't showing up. This is disconcerting.

NHS: don’t worry about it

JC : We’re talking about Wen Chao

NHS : overcompensating humvee ex-frat boy with the hair gel? vomit in the jacuzzi and streak across the field at the big game wen chao? ur babysitter's cousin?

JC : The very idiot

NHS : He has nice sunglasses

JC : For a Russian mobster

NHS : Says the guy who owns a purple zebra striped jacket

JC : Says the guy with more bird-themed shirts than Winston Bishop

JGY : Touche.

NHS : i didn’t know u watch New Girl 2! we must talk l8tr shorturl.at/vDI26

JGY : Your abbreviations are marginally shorter than the actual words.

NHS :

JC : Cleaning bird cages does take up most of one’s afternoon

NHS : see, u get it

JC : Dr. Wen isn’t buying whatever WWX is selling here.

JGY : Wen Chao is related to Dr. Wen. If WWX had any more sense than a chipmunk, he’d realize that. No matter how much you hate someone, family is family...

“Wen Chao was a public menace,” says Wei Wuxian self-righteously. “He deserved what he got. Speeding down the street all the time. Think of the children!”

LWJ - WWX

LWJ: Why is this my first time hearing about this?

WWX: You’ve heard me complain about WC a million times. I even named a group chat after him!

LWJ: Wei Ying.

WWX: You were off visiting your uncle with A-Yuan ! You left me unsupervised! I am not to be blamed!!!

LWJ: We’ll discuss this later

WWX: 😓

“Perhaps the better question is where you got all those fish,” says Dr. Wen.

Everyone turns to look at Xue Yang.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he grins.

Xiao Xingchen chuckles.

“Five hundred dollars in damages, Mr. Xue. Raw fish juice is difficult to get out of faux tiger fur upholstery, I understand.”

Xue Yang flaps his hand. “His father can afford it.”

“That is not the—" Dr. Wen stops, perhaps realizing that an argument with Xue Yang means forfeiting a chunk of her sanity. “Moving on, Mr. Xue, can you explain this picture you posted on social media?”

“That picture’s an old one. A-Qing’s just a baby.”

“Mr. Xue, given the recent threats you made towards A-Qing’s daycare teacher for putting her in a time-out for stealing her classmate’s graham crackers and apple juice, this is relevant.”

“Posting that to the public account was a mistake, if that’s your concern. My Insta for A-Qing is private, but I was in a candy store and got kind of distracted by the new sugar-frosted fruity explosion jaw-busting mega bombs—"

“You fail to understand the issue, Mr. Xue. What’s that in her mouth?”

“Fingers. Or is that a toe?”

Xiao Xingchen laughs.

“They weren't real,” says Xue Yang.

WWX - JC

WWX:

JC: Great more gifs

“I think I have one with the Halloween store tags still on—" Xue Yang scrolls through the hundreds of photos of A-Qing filling his phone. “Should be one in here somewhere—oh, look, Xingchen, these are from your birthday party; I tell you, Amazo the Magnificent had no sense of humor at all; you’d think nobody had ever replaced his rabbit with a porcupine before-"

Jin Ling hops by. “Rabbit!” he cheers.

Jiang Cheng groans.

“There is blood on the fingers, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang gives a breezy laugh. “Paint. The springy plastic is perfect for teething. You just put it in the freezer for a few hours—real fingers wouldn’t work; they’d freeze solid, which makes good ice packs for those hard-to-reach places, sure, but as far as teething goes—”

Dr. Wen holds up a hand. “Thank you, Mr. Xue. That’s enough. My next question is about this speeding ticket, which you received while your daughter was strapped to your chest.”

“She was wearing a helmet!”

“You were driving a motorcycle down the highway, Mr. Xue.”

Xue Yang glances hurriedly at Xiao Xingchen, who’s frowning. “These were two separate incidents—"

“Mr. Xue, I don’t think that that makes it much better—"

“Ouch!” Meng Yao shoots to his feet. “He bit me! Your son bit me!”

Wei Wuxian scoops up A- Yuan, who's looking very satisfied with himself. “You shouldn’t have worn a carrot-orange shirt, then.”

“It’s not orange, it’s beige—"

“Maybe he was aiming for Xichen’s crocs and missed,” Xue Yang suggests.

Meng Yao pats his pockets. “Where’s my phone?”

Xue Yang winks at A-Qing, whose already-stuffed pocket is bulging further. Xue Yang likes dressing her in disarmingly cute dresses and skirts with huge pockets, the better to hide her loot. She grins and twirls a pigtail like Xue Yang twirls his ponytail and skips off with Jin Ling and A- Yuan.

Meng Yao is wearing the fixed smile of a Starbucks barista whose customer just asked to speak to the manager. Never a good sign. “Could somebody be so kind as to call my phone?”

Wei Wuxian makes a show of dialing. No one else moves. Lan Xichen mumbles something to himself in his sleep, chin sunk deep in his chest.

“Sorry, Jiggy,” says Wei Wuxian. “Maybe you left your phone at home?”

“You all saw me using it not a minute ago, and kindly stop calling me Jiggy—"

“A-Yao?”

Meng Yao’s customer service smile slips. “Just stop talking for five seconds, that’s all I ask—"

Dr. Wen shakes her head. At this point she seems more bored than anything else. “Moving along, Mr. Xiao, this is perhaps inconsequential when held up beside your husband’s joyrides with A-Qing—"

“Not a joyride,” Xue Yang interrupts. “That motorcycle is registered in my name. Well, a name—"

“—but A-Qing’s teacher has told me that she witnessed you allowing A-Qing to take candy from strangers.”

“The lady seemed nice,” says Xiao Xingchen, folding his hands placidly in his lap. “She had peppermints.”

Xue Yang sighs fondly.

JC - WWX

NHS: thnx for calling me WWX. reception could be better but this is better than anything on tv. literally candy from strangers?

JC: Dear heaven HE’S back. Just text a chat you're actually on!

NHS: ‘Dear heaven’?

JC: This is inane!

WWX: …not bad

Xiao Xingchen smiles. “She smelled like snickerdoodles and lavender.”

Dr. Wen sighs. “Mr. Xiao—"

“I’ll talk to him later, doctor,” says Xue Yang, patting Xiao Xingchen’s arm reassuringly. “Anything else? What did Mr. Beige do?” He grins at Meng Yao, who’s still looking for his phone.

“Mr. Meng, aside for the fire, which we’ve established is not your fault—though, fiance or not, you should be a bit more judicious in your choice of babysitters—"

Lan Wangji shoots Dr. Wen a look that almost melts the metal clip on her clipboard.

She absorbs it without so much as an eyebrow twitch. “—there is the Treehouse Incident, though I don’t believe the collapse of your nephew’s treehouse was your fault.”

JC - WWX - LWJ - We’re All Cool Here We Promise

NHS : i hear he bought the biggest fanciest one he could then set it up himself and then it fell down at the first storm. if that’s not a metaphor for his life I don’t know what is

JC : That wasn’t funny, someone could have gotten hurt

WWX : it was kind of funny

NHS : it was very funny

LWJ : "Hurt" like a baby at a weapons expo?

NHS : LWJ IN DA HOUSE!

JC : It was an ARCHERY RANGE

LWJ:

NHS: LWJ USED A GIF IM DEAD LMAO—

LWJ: *I’m

“We are suing the playhouse company,” says Meng Yao. “Right, Xichen?”

“Hm?” Lan Xichen sits up with a jerk. “I beg your pardon?”

Meng Yao gives him a patient smile and turns back to Dr. Wen. “As you can see, we have the situation well in hand.”

Lan Xichen has no idea what he’s talking about but nods along anyway. “Of course we do. In fact—" He whips out a recorder and starts playing “Wonderwall.”

“That was…lovely,” says Dr. Wen once he finishes. “Don’t do it again. Now, moving on to the County Fair Incident—"

“Which was an accident!”

“One more interruption, Mr. Wei, and you will be asked to return for solo counseling."

JC - LWJ - XY - NHS - Lan Wangji Pls Stop Vetoing All My Best Chat Names Thnx

NHS : Make him stand in the corner! LWJ, does that ever work at home?

XY : I think he uses *stronger* methods 😏

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

JC : Xue Yang shut up I will end you that’s my brother

XY : End me with your sparkly little whip? 👀

JC : Your husband’s sitting right next to you you little freak. Allo people are so fricking annoying!

NHS : hey!

JC: I call it as I see it

NHS: your one to talk 😒

*Lan Wangji has joined the chat*

LWJ : *You're

*Lan Wangji has left the chat*

XY : How old were you when you lost your sense of humor, Grape Boy?

JC : “Grape Boy” is that the best you can do?

XY : there are children present

NHS : 🤭 🤭 🤭

JC : Same way there are children present while barreling down the highway at 80 mph on a motorcycle?

NHS:

XY : The state troopers blew that way out of proportion

Dr. Wen taps her clipboard. “Stealing livestock violates Section 2 of the Farm and Livestock Act—”

“No harm no foul,” shrugs Xue Yang. “And Xiao Xingchen gave all the trampled people candy afterward, so we’re all square. Well, snacks, anyway."

“Good snacks,” Xiao Xingchen adds. “Carob-covered rice cakes and trail mix.”

NHS: 🤢

“You can’t just hand out nuts children who might have an allergy—"

“There were also boxes of raisins. Full-size.”

Dr. Wen struggles to keep from rolling her eyes. Jiang Cheng rolls his hard enough for the both of them.

JC - NHS

NHS:

JC: wtf is that get that off my screen

“According to the police report, all three of your children broke into the paddock, released the donkey, and rode him down the main promenade, scattering fairgoers in their wake. I have the video.” Dr. Wen holds up her phone. Loud screams and merry-go-round music blast from her phone. “Mr. Xue? Anything to say?”

“That guy was barely trampled,” says Xue Yang. “Also, I had nothing to do with opening the paddock, whose latch sticks (just by the way), or helping the kids up onto the donkey, so—"

“This was found at the scene.” She holds up black leather necklace with a single red bead. "Look familiar, Mr. Xue?”

Xue Yang touches his bare throat. “I’ve been framed.”

“And this.” She holds up a flute and glances over at Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian darts a quick glance over at Lan Wangji, who does not look amused. Then again, he never does. “Since when was I even a suspect—?"

“Since you left your flute there like an idiot,” says Jiang Cheng.

“Lil’ Apple’s paddock was too small! I had to do something."

“Gentlemen—"

The cuckoo clock on the wall goes off, waking up Lan Xichen, who’s drifted off again. He whips out his recorder again but Meng Yao lays a gently restraining hand on his wrist.

Dr. Wen rises. “We will continue this next week. In the meantime, I have some worksheets—"

JC - NHS

JC : Kill me now

NHS : i wouldnt tempt LWJ if i were u…

JC : not like I take up any of WWX’s precious time anyway anymore. LWJ goes out of town and WWX teams up with that nutcase ex-juvenile delinquent of all people to vandalize WC’s car?? In college we stole WC's team's stupid tortoise mascot together

NHS : …..i'll call u later

JC : Please don’t

NHS :

NHS: u can come over on ur own to watch a movie or smthing u know

NHS: ur new line launched already so ur not so busy now right?

NHS: u can bring jin ling along as a chaperone if u want

NHS: hello?

NHS: that was a joke…

JC: okay but no more romcoms

NHS: u brought mama mia over last time not me

JC: I grabbed the wrong dvd

NHS: …..🤐

JC: 🖕

NHS: 😏 see u soon

* * * *

One month later:

“Best session yet!” says Wei Wuxian as they pull up to his house in Jiang Cheng's sleek purple Jaguar. “I mean, Dr. Wen wasn’t thrilled about the whole ‘our kids visited Nie Huaisang’s bird sanctuary and now think they’re skvaders’ thing, but all in all—"

“Just get out of the car.” Jiang Cheng gives him a little shove. They’d all been busy this past month, and had only seen Nie Huaisang once, but that had been enough to convince the kids that they’re hybrid bunny-birds. “I’ll wait outside while you go and get Jin Ling—" He stops. A letter is nailed to the front door.

“Is someone starting another Protestant reformation?” Wei Wuxian jokes. He grins at Lan Wangji, who raises his eyebrow slightly. Excellent. So he found the joke as funny as he did, though going by the way he eyes the nail he’s not thrilled about what just happened to the door’s glossy blue paint.

Wei Wuxian rips the letter from the nail and starts to read aloud. “ ‘We, the undersigned, do hereby declare Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanji to be persona non grata on Cultivator Court for the following reasons: One: Wild animals leaving unspeakable “presents” on our lawns—’ ”

Wei Wuxian looks up. “That would be Lil’ Apple. Do they sell donkey diapers?”

LWJ unlocks the door. “What else?”

“ ‘Two: Gangs of feral rabbits rampaging through our flower beds!’ –They do have a point here. How they keep getting loose I’ll never know. ‘Number Three: Loud duets at midnight. We get it! You’re in love! Get a soundproof basement or shut the hell up!’ ” Wei Wuxian wrinkles his nose. “Who spit in their bean curd?”

“Where do these people meet, and can I join?” asks Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian slings an arm around his shoulders, the first time in weeks. Jiang Cheng hasn’t seen much of his brother outside of the counseling sessions. “Dr. Wen says that kind of negativity is toxic.”

Jiang Cheng grunts, but lets Wei Wuxian keep his arm on his shoulder. “I’ll show you toxic—”

The babysitter is sitting under the table with Jin Ling and A-Yuan when they enter the house, building a miniature cenotaph made out of blocks.

“The kids okay, Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks him.

Wen Ning peers out from between two chairs. “We were under siege for a couple of hours. Pitchforks and torches, same old thing. But we turned out the lights and stayed away from the windows and made s’mores.”

“So that’s what happened to all the plastic lawn flamingos. Trampled by angry villagers."

Jiang Cheng pinches his temples. “I told you adopting an incontinent donkey was a bad idea. At least keep his paddock locked.”

“We don’t have to tell your sister about this, do we, Wen Ning? …Good. What did the mob look like? Did you catch any names?”

“They were led by a fat man with a goatee and a skinny old guy with beady eyes and a moustache like two long droopy rat tails." Wen Ning crawls out from under the table. “The skinny guy was wearing bright red and blue and purple clothes and the fat guy had a bullhorn. And my cousin Wen Chao was in back yelling something about the rising cost of dry cleaning in this day and age, I think?”

“Yao and Ouyang.” Wei Wuxian makes a face. “Power couple from hell, and I should know. I’ve been there.”

“Are they those nosy neighbors you’re always complaining about?” asks Jiang Cheng.

“They’ve been after us from day one!”

“Well, having that fierce corpse of yours key their car didn’t help.”

“That was an accident.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“You know, Nie Huaisang has been texting me about this house for sale next door to him,” says Wei Wuxian thoughtfully. “Lan Zhan, maybe we should check it out?”

Jiang Cheng picks up Jin Ling and pats him gently on the back. “You’re just going to have the same problem with the angry villagers, just across town.”

“No, it’s a big corner lot. I’ve seen it. Looks like the Addams Family lives there. Comes with its own little graveyard and everything. Huaisang’s family owns it, and they’ve been trying to unload it for months, but everyone thinks it’s haunted just because of that time I brought those fierce corpses with me on a visit and they got loose—but that’s neither here nor there. It’s perfect!”

Lan Wangji nods.

“Whatever.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, A-Ling.”

Once he’s strapped Jin Ling into his car seat, he takes out his phone.

JC - NHS

JC : Your plan worked

Nie Huaisang:

???

Jiang Cheng: yeah. Thanks for riling them up behind my brother’s back all month. Class move. Direct and straightforward

NHS:

NHS: not that they needed much inciting. wwx blowing up the garage was the last straw

JC : was still weirdly convoluted for no reason

JC : Not sure why you had to get me involved either

NHS: says the guy who lives 20 blocks away but still volunteered to file the noise complaint because, i quote, “the duets *R* annoying”

JC : well you can’t file a complaint about them stopping mid-conversation with you to gaze soulfully into each others’ eyes for ten minutes

NHS : *snort*

JC : If you miss WWX so much 🙄 why didn’t you just tell him straight out instead of pulling this shtick?

NHS:

NHS : there’s another house available down the street just fyi…

NHS: my big fat greek wedding sat night? u bring the dvd n i’ll get the pizza

Shaking his head, but smiling to himself, Jiang Cheng starts the car.

#wei wuxian #lan wangji #jiang cheng #mdzsnet #nie huaisang #xue yang #lan xichen #wen qing #wen ning #xiao xingchen #xuexiao #xiyao #wangxian #a-qing #jin ling #lan sizhui #jin guangyao #meng yao #lan zhan #cql #mdzs #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #the untamed crack

[anonthenullifier]

Quote prompt! "What do you mean it's on fire?!"

Thanks for the prompt! Immediately it made me think of a way to finally write out one of my head canons for Vision. I hope you enjoy this!

*****

In one hand Wanda casually grips a wine glass (a Sauvignon Blanc, according to Vision but she’ll drink anything that’s offered) and in the other she directs the angle of the camcorder propped up on a little table top tripod. “What are you doing now?”

“We are,” with stilted movements, Vision’s goggle covered eyes never straying far from the tripod, he answers, “placing our tomato purée into this centrifuge.” Wanda waves her hand, trying to elicit a bit more from him. “Um we have it set to spin at 20,000 gees per minute which will force the components to separate.”

“Using this,” Helen, who is only marginally more at ease in front of the camera, pats the machine lovingly, “we can separate out the purée by density. So by the end we’ll have the pulp, oil, and water of the tomato in three distinct layers.” Wanda sends them a thumbs up as they place the tubes inside their holders and let’s them have a few minutes of peace before moving them along.

This whole evening is part of a new initiative Tony (via Pepper who is the actual brains of PR) has set up to “normalize” the Avengers more. Each of them was tasked with finding an activity to document that let’s the public realize they are all normal-ish people. Vision had spent many hours brainstorming with her what he could do since his main hobbies are reading, watching television with her, and floating around the compound. Even though all are true hobbies, she had to inform him that it was a grossly incomplete list because (amongst other omissions) for the last two months he’s been hosting Molecular Gastronomy Mondays (or MGM as the team fearfully refers to it) with Helen. Initially he adamantly refused this suggestion, not wanting to make Helen uncomfortable, but Wanda finally convinced him after they spent a whole day watching YouTube cooking channels and she ever so casually mentioned how it seemed there was a dearth of scientific explanations in these channels and how she wished everyone got to enjoy MGM like she did.

Since it was her doing to tip them into filming, Wanda agreed to direct. She always attends these nights anyway, driven by hunger and morbid curiosity (even after the egg yolk explosion that required a lengthy shower and a week-long aversion towards anything eggy), but tonight she just has to be a tiny bit more involved. “Why do you need to separate it?”

The question seems to rejuvenate Vision, his body turning towards her enough for his apron to be on display, an image of two circles and a square labeled Proton, Neutron, Crouton . “Tonight we are crafting a translucent tomato consommé. In order to remove all color we have to get food particles no larger than seven microns.”

“And the way to do that is with centrifugal force.” Helen joins in, excitement finally coming through, which was Wanda’s hope in pestering them with questions to unlock their usual talkative selves whenever science is involved. “This,” another loving pat is given to the machine, “is actually an old one from my lab. You can buy food specific ones but we spent the last few weeks adapting it to be food safe.” With a push of a button the machine’s insides begin to spin. “Now we can make the spheres.”

Wanda sips her wine as they gather all they need: a beaker from the fridge that she knows has been sitting overnight, a bottle of extra virgin olive oil, a medicine bottle of white powder, an empty beaker, and a pipette.

“Now,” Helen ( whose own apron tells the world to Quiche the Cook ) talks while Vision arranges all the items in an orderly fashion, “we’re going to demonstrate the process of spherification.”

With a wave of his hand Vision begins this segment by explaining to the viewers (by way of speaking exclusively to Wanda, a technique she suggested to help calm his nerves), “Last night we mixed water with alginate - which itself is derived from brown algae though there will be no discernible taste from it.” The little smirk that always accompanies his factoids is adorable and she hopes it translates well on video. “It has to sit overnight to remove all air bubbles. Dr. Cho.”

Smoothly they transition the baton of explanation, a pre-planned segue to keep it lively, Helen now narrating as Vision performs the next task, “What we do now is mix our olive oil with calcium chloride. This will cause the polymers of the alginate to cross link and form a gel. By dropping the olive oil mixture through the pipette, it will form spheres. If you watch Vision-”

Wanda zones out the rest, eyes taking in a little plume of smoke rising from behind the steady hands of Vision, following it as it dances through the air until it is drawn into the kitchen’s exhaust fan. Curiosity piqued, she leans as far to the side as she can without accidentally knocking over the camera. Amongst the whirling tubes of tomato lingers a far more sinister force. “Um Vision...the centrifuge is on fire.”

Vision pauses, pipette of the olive oil mixture poised over the alginate water, and a wary half-arced smile on his face that he gets whenever he is hoping to discover some new source of humor instead of derision. “What do you mean it’s on fire?”

“That it’s on fire.”

The two cooks turn towards the machine, Vision with an “Oh dear!” and Helen’s less composed, “Dammit!” Wanda knows she should help, but instead she turns the camera a bit to the right, the Sauvignon Blanc pairing perfectly with the entertainment of watching Helen cautiously open the machine while Vision uses the fire extinguisher to stop the flames.

After a hesitant glance inside, Helen pushes her goggles up onto the top of her head and laughs. “Of course.”

“I am beginning to suspect sabotage of our endeavors,” a serious accusation that is tempered by Vision’s less-than-serious delivery.

An equally facetious tone emerges from the usually stoic woman, “Steve did say our bacon foam made him uncomfortable.”

Wanda zooms the shot in to capture the full effect of the radiant amusement on Vision’s face as he weighs the hypothesis, “Or perhaps we defer to Occam’s Razor and accept that electrical engineering is not our forte.”

A dry, “I’ll stick with sabotage,” sends the two mad scientists into conspiratorial sniggers and Wanda knows this will accomplish exactly what Tony wants.

She keeps the camera going as Vision turns towards her, a breathtakingly friendly curve to his lips as he brings her into their conversation, “It seems your promised dinner is ruined,” a dour statement said with just enough self-deprecating verve that it itself should demystify the way the public sees him. But then he goes a step further, cementing firmly his humanness on camera, “Shall we just order pizza instead?”

#vision #wanda maximoff #Helen cho #scarlet vision #wandavision #ask anon #mine

[michellewritesthings]

I Wanna See Some Smiles

Word Count: 2,227

A/N: I feel like I haven’t posted a damn thing in years. But this request came from the beautiful @mindpalacegigglebug Thank you so so much for this request, my love. (ILYSM 🤍) I couldn’t help but sit down for a good 3 hours and perfect this lovely storyline. Enjoy! ~Michelle 🤍

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

It had been days since Remus decided to introduce himself so graciously to Thomas… or it was in Remus’ opinion. For the first two days, it consisted of Logan calming Roman down from his anger at the entire situation and how he wasn’t there to get rid of his brother, Logan and Roman helping Patton eat properly because he kept puking just thinking of the things Remus was saying and doing, and Logan, Roman and Patton left wondering where Virgil was. For the first two days, Virgil barricaded himself in his room. He didn’t want to confront the emotions he knew the others would want to talk to him about since he wasn’t fond of them anyway. He decided it was best for everyone if he just went away for a while. By day 4, the other 3 Sides felt much better. They accepted the fact that yes, even though Remus was very unpleasant, he was still an essential Side of Thomas. There’s no getting around that fact. But they also started to get worried. Where was Virgil? Why hasn’t he been outside for the past 4 days? What was running through his mind since he was anxiety after all? Is he okay? All 3 Sides were sitting downstairs trying to figure out what to do about Virgil.

“I’m starting to get scared. I can’t imagine what Virgil has been feeling since the other day…” Patton took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes in frustration. Nothing close to anger, more of a ‘I have no clue what to do or how to do it, someone help me!’ frustration.

“He’s most likely to be confused, angry. He mostly feels like he’s failed Thomas.” Logan explained, sitting back on the couch.

“How so?” Roman asked. If anything HE should be the one feeling like he’s failed Thomas. That’s his brother after all and he had made no mention of him before and he most definitely didn’t want Thomas to find out the way he did.

“Well he stated to Thomas that he thought he could, quote on quote ‘protect’ Thomas from finding out about his Dark Sides. But clearly he is unable to do that. Thomas was bound to find out about them sometime.” Logan adjusted his tie, something he did whenever he was anxious himself.

“Well then what are we supposed to do about that, Teach? We can’t change his feelings. They’re valid but they’re completely silly!” Roman crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Roman, be nice.” Patton reprimanded. Roman lowered his arms, slightly feeling ashamed at his little outburst.

“I’m sorry but there’s no reason why he should feel like he failed Thomas.” Roman slumped in his seat. They all sat there wondering what they could do to at least get him out of the room.

“I’ll go get him.” Patton stood up. Logan and Roman looked a bit worried.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna try and get him to my room. In and out. I’ll be back, kiddos.” With that, Patton made his way upstairs and in front of Virgil’s bedroom. Out of politeness, Patton knocked gently.

“Virgil? Hey, kiddo. It’s Patton.” He waited for a response. He heard mumbling. Something along the lines of ‘no one’s here.’ But Patton was persistent. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

“Virgil, I just want to talk. It doesn’t have to be long. Can I come in? Please?” The politeness and tone in his voice was always something he could never say no to. He snapped his fingers and his door unlocked, signaling to Patton he could walk in. Patton slowly made his way into the room and closed the door. That’s what Virgil liked anyway, complete privacy. Patton saw Virgil on his bed with his face buried in his pillow under the covers. He could tell by the way some of his hair stuck out. He looked like he’d been in that position for a while, with the exception of getting up for hygienic purposes and eating. Patton smiled softly and sat on his bed. He laid a hand on Virgil’s back.

“Are you alright, kiddo?” Patton asked. He knew what Virgil’s answer would be before he said it.

“Fine.”

Patton sighed and tried a different approach. Straightforward.

“Virgil, do you trust me?” Virgil’s body went stiff. He always hated intense questions like that but since it was coming from Patton, someone he knew that would never hurt or judge him, he once again couldn’t say no. A simple nod of the head was Virgil’s answer to Patton.

“Do you believe in any way, shape or form that I would do anything to disrespect you?”

Virgil shook his head. That made Patton smile.

“Alrighty. So I’ll ask again: Are you alright?” Virgil didn’t answer for a minute. Then he grew the courage to shake his head again. Patton nodded.

“Hey. Can you come out of there please?” Patton tugged on the blanket. Virgil only moved the blanket down as much as he could so his eyes, or the view of Virgil’s eyes that Patton could see behind his bangs, met his. Patton ducked down and smiled.

“Almost.” Patton took his pointer finger and pushed Virgil’s bangs away from his eyes.

“Hey, there you are.” He saw Virgil’s shoulders move up once. He laughed. That made Patton feel better.

“Well first thing’s first. You know I can’t be in here too long. Would you like to move to my room for a bit? You won’t change.” Virgil shook his head.

“Didn’t you say you trusted me, Virge?” Virgil nodded.

“Well I have a bed in there, along with a blanket. You can get back in this position over there. Please?” 5 minutes past. Virgil slowly got up and both Sides made their way to the parental Side’s room. As promised, Virgil was allowed to go back into the hiding position he was in, in his own bed. But being in Patton’s room made him feel a little less… shitty.

“Now. What’s running through that pretty little emo head of yours, hm?” Patton asked, getting straight to the point. Virgil shrugged.

“I’m gonna need some words here, kiddo.” Patton rubbed Virgil’s back. Virgil sighed.

“I don’t know…” he said softly. Oh how Patton missed the sound of Virgil’s voice, even if it did sound sad.

“You wanna know something?” Patton smiled, Virgil looked up at him.

“I think you do know. I think you know exactly what’s running through your mind but you’re just too nervous to talk about what’s running through your mind because you think people are going to judge you for having emotions even though you know that’s far from the case. That about cover it?” Virgil was amazed at how well Patton knew him.

“Yeah…” Patton smiled at Virgil’s honesty.

“Well let me tell you something, mister. You have a family now. And families don’t judge each other because they have feelings they need to work through. And we must definitely won’t judge you because of the feelings you have that Remus’ visit gave you.” Patton saw Virgil’s eyes widen and he shook his head.

“Relax. He isn’t here. And I know that’s why you’ve locked yourself in that room for the past couple of days. You don’t want to talk about Remus and you don’t have to. None of us do. But what we would like you to talk about is your feelings on the matter. Even if it’s just with me. You know, holding back your feelings isn’t good.” Patton explained. Virgil moved the blanket down to reveal his entire face. Patton’s smile became bigger.

“There you are.” Virgil gave him the tiniest of smiles.

“Did anything I said make sense, Virge?”

“Yeah. I’m just scared I guess. Anytime he comes around, it just jumbles my brain and makes my skin crawl. I don’t know. But can we talk about it together later?” Patton nodded quickly.

“Of course we can. There’s no rush at all, kiddo.” Virgil nodded. But Patton missed his smile.

“But you’re still down in the dumps, my friend. I wanna see some smiles. Hand ‘em over, please.” Patton waved his hand towards himself. Virgil whined.

“Aw Pat, c’mon it’s been a long couple days…” Patton shook his head.

“I’m not taking no for an answer, mister. Either you give me a smile or I’ll pry one out of you. So let’s see it.” Patton warned. Virgil gave him the fakest smile Patton had ever seen. Virgil then pulled the blanket over his body more and turned it away from Patton. Patton hoped he would do that. He smirked to himself.

“Fine then. Have it your way, kiddo~.” Patton jumped on the back of Virgil’s thighs and placed his thumbs in between Virgil’s back 5th and 6th ribs and let his other fingers place themselves on the space around those two ribs. Patton knew everyone’s specific spots. After all, he was the Mind Palace Tickle Monster. He felt Virgil tense up.

“Pahatton… dohohon’t you dare…” Virgil warned, already letting some giggles slip through. This made Patton want to keep going.

“You chose your fate, Virgil~. Now you must suffer the consequences.” With that, Patton added pressure to his thumbs and let his other fingers dig into Virgil’s other ribs, but he kept those thumbs secure surprisingly well.

“PATTON NOHOHOHO!!” Virgil started squirming. Patton bent down to Virgil’s ear, a death spot of Virgil’s.

“Patton yes~!!” He added a few tickly kisses to Virgil’s ear, as he bathed in all the laughter Virgil provided him with. He still couldn’t see Virgil’s smile since he was still under the blanket.

“I wanna see that smile now, Gigglebug!” Patton switched to the other ear and Virgil flinched and a blush appeared onto his face.

“BAHAHAHACK OFF, PAT!!” Virgil tried to bring his hands behind him and push Patton’s arms away, but in the position he was in, on his stomach, that was only wishful thinking.

“I will once I see that smile~!” Virgil didn’t give him an answer other than more squirming thanks to all of Patton’s teasing. Patton was waiting for this moment.

“Welp. You’ve made your bed, Virgil. Now, you must lay in it.” Patton sat back up and stopped his fingers from moving. Only to add even more pressure to his thumbs in the spaces of Virgil’s ribs and dig into it with the tips of his finger tips. Virgil let out a noise that could only be described as… nevermind. Patton couldn’t pinpoint what to describe the noise Virgil just made, but it did satisfy him.

“PAHAHAHAHATTON!! NOHOHOHOT THERE!! DAHAHAMNIT!!” Virgil’s squirming became harder, Patton felt like he was on a ride.

“VIRGIL! Language! Don’t make me get my thumbs on those hips!” Patton scolded. All of a sudden, Virgil turned on his side for 2 reasons: 1. To get Patton off of him and 2. To have an excuse for Patton to do as he said and attack his hips. Patton wasn’t an idiot. Especially when he was in a ler mood. He noticed and focused on everything. He knew Virgil and why he did that. He wanted to laugh, he needed to laugh. After the past couple of days they’ve had, he most definitely needed to laugh.

“Ah… I see. You want me to get those hips of yours, huh~?” Patton asked, giving Virgil a break. Virgil’s blush darkened. He shyly nodded. Patton ran his fingers through Virgil’s hair to help him calm down.

“Ask~.” Virgil’s eyes popped out of his head.

“WHAT?!”

“You heard me~. Ask the Tickle Monster for hip tickles, V~. Then you can get alllll the hip tickles your emo heart desires.” Patton booped Virgil’s nose. He guessed Virgil was more worn out than he thought because he complied unusually quickly.

“...can I get hip tickles?” He mumbled. Patton wouldn’t be as evil as to make him speak up or anything. He knew this was to help Virgil feel better, not an actual tickle session.

“Of course you can get hip tickles, Virge.” Patton laid his thumbs onto Virgil’s hips, right above the bone. Patton was always very specific as to where he placed his fingers during a wrecking. It makes for even more fun!

“You can get… ALL THE HIP TICKLES!” Patton rapidly dug his thumbs into Virgil’s hips while expertly holding them down with the palms of his hands to keep Virgil from bucking.

“OH GOHOHOD!!”

“Don’t be embarrassed, kiddo! At least we both get what we want today! I get to see your precious smile, and you get tickles! It’s a win-win situation!” Patton finished off that statement with a deep, hard and long raspberry to the center of Virgil’s stomach. Virgil screamed. He was always an easy target for raspberries.

After another couple of minutes of torture, in Virgil’s opinion, Patton backed off of Virgil, as promised and sat next to him. His back leaning on his headboard.

“Feel better?” Virgil smiled up at Patton and nodded after he had calmed down and regulated his breathing. He then hesitantly laid his head on Patton’s lap. Patton was to screech from preciousness. He brought his hand back to his hair again and watched as Virgil’s eyes began to fall down.

“Thanks, Patton.” Virgil said shyly. Patton kissed the top of his head.

“You’re so very welcome, kiddo.”

#sanders sides tickling #my writing #ler!patton #lee!virgil #sanders sides tickle #tickle fic #sanders sides tickle fic #tickle community #i’m actually really proud of this

[adhd-for-adhders]

Tips for Working with ADHD During Online School (or Work)!

This is really late and I don’t really know why I didn't do this earlier, but here we are! I thought I’d publish a list of tips and tricks that have helped me while doing school online - mostly long homework sessions - (and might help with online working). Even though it is the summer, some people are still working or doing summer school, so I hope this helps someone who needs it!

Get everything you’ll need or even the stuff you might need. It saves you from having to get up if you’re on a roll and breaking your streak (or maybe you find you can’t get up to get it bc ~executive dysfunction~)

If you find you don’t have something you need and it’s not pressing, wait until a pause or you’re getting up anyways, ie you’re getting up to fill your water bottle and you’re gonna need your phone charger. Take that time to go to the bathroom, get a snack, etc. I find this the best way to get around executive dysfunction because I didn’t want to get up for that one small thing earlier, but now I’m up for something else and I can kinda justify my other tasks, in a way? It’s like, I get up, and I'm like “well I'm already getting water, might as well just grab a snack and my phone charger too”

I’m terrible at prioritizing, so I try to prioritize the most obvious assignments first. You have one assignment due at 3 and another at 6? Do the 3 pm deadline first. You have a certain class that you have more missing assignments in than another? Do that homework first. If you can’t prioritize, try to think of the most logical order.

I usually do all my assignments for one class in a block because I get on a roll. Like, my brain is thinking in chemistry or whatever, so I knock out all my chem assignments at one time (this has to do with ADHD brains not being very good at jumping from task to task).

I started planning heavy hw days on google calendar. For example, I just list all the assignments I have to do and what time to do them and calendar will give me a little notification 10 and 5 minutes before a new task starts (this also helps me keep track of how time is passing because adhd brains aren’t too great at that either). Tip: give yourself much more time than you think you need—I usually give an hour unless it’s a super short assignment. Even if you’re 100% sure that you’ll finish it in under an hour, give yourself an hour and you feel a sense of accomplishment (and get a lil dopamine boost—we tend to be short on that too) because you finished something earlier than expected and you get ahead of schedule (which, if you finish before you plan on, will also give you a dopamine boost at the end).

Keep a bottle of water near you and a snack or two if you want. I need my meds to stay focused on my assignments for longer than an hour or so and it drastically improves my executive function (this is specifically for me, I don't know how meds work for everyone else). But the side effects of all three different types of meds I’ve taken have all come up/been worse when I don’t drink enough water. Also it’s just good for you. My meds kill my appetite, so I don’t need snacks, but if you get hungry, go for it.

Most of the time, I like having someone or a list giving me explicit instructions, kind of like a checklist I can check off. So even if you don’t use a calendar, I suggest putting your assignments in a numbered or bulleted list and then you can just check them off as you move down the list. It also tells me what to do next, because I’ll just do whatever I feel like doing most of the time and a list gives me direction. (Also, having one central list helps me keep everything in one place so I don’t have to go hunting through each of my class schedules for all my class assignments)

I have a little calendar chart for the week I created on google docs and there I list what assignments are due on which days of the week that I fill out on Monday. Once I fill it out, I spread out the assignments over the week (because a good 75% of them are due on Friday) so I have around 4 assignments due each day (which generally takes me from 9 or 10 to anywhere from 3 to 5. Even then I’ll usually not have enough work to spread over 5 days (because most of my teachers aren’t pure evil) so I’ll sprinkle in some of my many missing assignments in there on the lighter days. Also, it prevents me from only doing one or two assignments for a few days and then realizing that to not have any late work, I’ll have to complete 5 in one day (that’s happened before. It was extremely stressful and I didn't finish all my assignments. 0/10 do not recommend).

Take plenty of little breaks. We’ll get mentally tired from hours straight of just doing schoolwork (I’m not 100% sure if this is an adhd thing so don’t quote me on it but I’m pretty sure) so take a 15-30 minute break every few hours or assignments, maybe 20 minutes every 1.5 hours or after you finish two assignments or whatever works for you. Read a few chapters of your book, watch an episode of your favorite show, or make some food and scroll mindlessly through tumblr, whatever makes you happy. Just plan them ahead so you don’t get sucked in to doing 3, 4, 5 hours of work nonstop by setting an alarm for a specific time or putting it on your calendar.

Have a special place to do your work. I can't speak for everyone, but a lot of my motivation comes from habits, so I’ll do work (and only work) at my desk and not in my chair or bed or whatever (even though it’s way more comfortable) so when I sit down my brains like “ok it’s time to work I gotchu”

Not necessarily for working, but for zoom calls: get your favorite stim to use during those. A lot of teachers will ramble on and on and I’ve gotten so fidgety during these calls its really noticeable (aka, you can literally see me trying to crack my neck/back/fingers every five seconds) so I’ve taken to having some scissors and one of my many balls of yarn on my desk so I can start braiding or fingerknitting some yarn while my teachers ramble.

Sidenote: fingerknitting is a really great stim (for me, at least) because it requires basic, repetitive motions that don’t require me to look at my fingers. I once read like 14 (?) scenes of Shakespeare almost all in a row and I swear, I was only able to do that because of the fingerknitting. It’s super simple and you could probably find dozens of short tutorials on youtube.

I'm pretty sure this is only a mac thing, but on my computer, I have it set to announce the time on the hour, every hour and I find it helps with my complete time blindness and helps me not get sucked into doing a 1 hour project for 2 hours. Also if i'm working on a project that’s taking longer than expected and I have a zoom call at, say, 11, then the computer will break me out of my homework trance and I’ll realize what time it is (if that makes sense) and it’s prevented me from being late to a zoom many times. To get your macbook to do this, you go to the desktop —> settings —> date and time —> and then click “announce the time”, and you can choose whether you want it to announce it every hour, half an hour, or fifteen minutes.

Feel free to add your own! Happy studying/working!

#actually adhd #ADHD tips and tricks #adhd #ADHD Strategies #online learning

[whumper-boi]

So good news, I finally finished with writing out the first prompt of the whump advant calender

OH MY FUCKING GOD I FORGOT TO ACTUALLY TAKE IT OUT OF DRAFTS AND POST IT SO ITS A DAY LATE LMAOO SORRY GUYS

(Note that they are ocs to my book I’m writing so don’t worry about spoiling or anything)

@whump-advent-calendar thank you, and this is for the first prompts

Y’all this was much longer then I thought it would be but oh well. Also, I was really out of it when I started this so forgive me cause it isn’t my best work.

Also sorry about the awkward spacing, was no one going to tell me there was a limit to the amount of spaces you could do?

**Blue- Martin’s texts

TW for mentions of non-con, mentions of child abuse, panic attacks, self deprecating thoughts, nearly freezing to death, hypothermia, paranoia, cursing, anxiety, mild(?) dissociation (like it’s written that it happened but he doesn’t remember it (obviously)), ptsd

This hadn’t happened since the thunderstorm incident. However, unlike that where he had been purposely locked outside in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm, he had come home early from a sleepover, and no one else was home.

Martin shivered, pulling his skully over the tips of his ears. After he realized that he lost his house key somewhere, he tried to call his father, but to no avail, as he was most likely still on a plane.

Majesty, his service dog who accompanied him on the walk home, nudged him gently on the leg. He sensed his distress, circling around him before standing at his side again.

Backtracking a little, Martin had gone over to one of his best friend Sadie’s house, with intentions to spend the night, but her having a surprise doctors appointment had made him decide to walk home with Majesty, (even in the blistering cold, he didn’t want to bother his friend’s parents) and lose his key somewhere in the process.

This wouldn’t be a problem if the spare was still there, but it wasn’t? He wondered if someone else brought it in and forgot to put it back.

His father, Oliver, and his father’s best friend, Nick, were both on a business trip and wouldn’t be back until the day after tomorrow.

He didn’t know what to call Nick, as he saw the man like another parent, but he couldn’t handle the idea of putting his trust into another adult only to be majorly fucked over again. He had been around since before Martin was born, this was true, but Molly, his mother, had also been around since he was born, and she chose his rapist over him.

So yeah, he was a little scared of letting his guard down, even if he knew Nick would never hurt him. Oliver had even made sure of this

(The two men had been telling stories about before Martin and Tristan were younger, and even before they were born.

“If we’re really reminiscing on your births, I’ll never forget when Oliver held you for the first time Mars. Mostly because your father had threatened to terminate our business partnership and friendship, and I quote, ‘cut your prick off and make you eat it’ if I ever put a hand on you.”

“I still stand by it mate,” Oliver said, cuffing Nick on the shoulder.)

And his father wasn’t really one to go back on promises, especially with Martin.

The only other person who had access to the house would be Tristan, Nick’s son and someone who was like a brother to him, but, of course, he wasn’t home, and the bitch wouldn’t answer his phone. That wasn’t a surprise though, he was probably at a house party getting slammed.

Majesty let out a small huff, nudging him in the leg again, telling him that he was going out of it again. He pet him, checking his pockets one more time before giving up.

Great, fucking brilliant. He plopped down on the stone steps leading to the front door, which were freezing, and pulled out his phone, checking for messages. None.

A gust of wind blew, making him put his phone away and curl up to try and get some feeling back into his numbing fingers and toes. It really had to be this cold on the day he decided to not wear his leather jacket.

The only thing he had to protect him from the elements was the MCR T-shirt over a black longsleeve, cargo pants that had like, seven pockets on them, Doc Marten (ha), the skully, of couse, and his headphones. Also, a ton of metal jewlrey, basically he looked like the first picture you would find if you googled “Goth looks”.

Majesty sat next to him, and he leaned into the dog, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing.

Seeing as he couldn’t do anything other than wait, he tried to get his mind off of it, by thinking about the boarding school he would be going back to in a few weeks.

The boarding school in question, was an academy for advanced people with different skills and abilities, and it wasn’t something that was easy to get into. He had gotten a scholarship for the academic part of the school, which was apparently, a very hard thing to do. They only chose the smartest of the smart, who were all adults, except for him of course.

Maybe because he had an IQ of 216, higher than everyone at the school. That seemed to raise a lot of discourse with some people who couldn’t handle the fact that a 16 year old was smarter than them.

Interestingly enough, Martin couldn’t bring himself to actually give a fuck when it came down to it, because he had the scholarship, not them.

The only person who was even close to his age was a boy named Matthew, from America. Detroit, more specifically. The two had been roommates, Matthew was in because apparently, he was a fucking amazing dancer that was scholarship worthy.

Martin hadn’t seen it, but if he got into that school it was probably mind blowing, and he would never question his ability.

Matthew had been respectful, and pretty, and he had the audacity to make Martin fall for his southern accent and obnoxiously kind words that he didn’t feel like he deserved.

He even asked him at one point.

“Well you’re a genius M, so it’s going to be lightwork for you,” Matthew said, after Martin had joked about wanting to crack the Zodiac ciphers.

“Nah, I’ll just stick to arguing with teachers and wasting away decoding video games.”

The other boy hummed. “Well, whatever you choose to do, you’re going to do good.” He put his fingers in a ‘ok’ pose, and gave a playful smirk that made him look like a meme, and then he looked up at Martin.

He couldn’t exactly tell what emotion was being portrayed on his own face at the moment, but it made Matthew’s smile drop, and he looked at him with nothing but concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, there something on my face?” he half joked, feeling it fall flat as soon as it came out of his mouth. He tried to neutralize his expression, but this only made things look worse.”

“Martin…” he hesitated. “Was it something I said?”

Yes, yes it was. He opened his mouth, then closed it, growing warm and horrifyingly, feeling tears start to well up. He had, by no means been insulted with what he said. The support and friendliness was what got to him.

The whole thing was, he had support from other people, but this felt… different. Martin felt like the people around him felt obligated to do it. Even so, he had only known Matthew for such a short time, but the american he only proved that he cared.

Maybe this was the insecurity in his brain talking, or maybe the things Seth said and did to him were finally starting to take a toll on him. He just had to know why he cared so much. Well, when in Rome right?

“Why are you so nice to me?” He asked, crossing his arms, a nervous tic that he had developed.

Matthew didn’t even look like he registered the question. “I’m...not?” What? If that wasn’t being nice then what was it?

As if the other boy could hear his question, he added: “I’m just treating you with basic decency? Like, anyone with an ounce of empathy should do.” Martin stared at him.

But holding the door? Not once telling him to shut up at his long rants? Waiting for him at the top of the stairs when he made it up first? His friends did the same, and so did his family, but they had known each other for a while, and…but Seth did it, only when he was in a good mood, only when he was feeling nice, and he just naturally assumed this was what everyone was doing. Conditionally. They were doing it because they cared?

This was hurting his head. Multiple thoughts littered his head and he couldn’t sort them out fast enough to process a coherent sentence. His logical side just straight up vanished.

Matthew walked up to him, cautiously sticking his arm out and gently grabbing Martin’s shoulder.

His head suddenly blanked, whatever he had been thinking about just stopped at the contact. “Well,” Martin laughed awkwardly, “I guess you learn something new everyday.”

The other boy gave a smile, and he thought he could spare them both the mental breakdown he would inevitably have, then the arse had to say: “You’re deserving of respect darlin’, unconditionally.”

And wonderfully, he started to cry. The more correct term would be more like, loudly sobbing, but save himself a little bit of dignity. Matthew had once again proved how amazing he was, holding him.

A loud noise sounded from somewhere, knocking him out of the memory. He felt a smile on his face though, thinking about the American. His boyfriend, seeing as two hours after he shared his entire life story, they made out on their dorm floor.

He stopped smiling when he felt his lips crack in the cold weather. Licking them didn’t help, they dried back up seconds later.

Martin stood up, shivering at the lack of movement. He tried the door again, and when that didn’t work, he called Majesty and walked to the backside of the house. It was locked. Well, it was good that they were responsible with locking doors.

He then tried the windows, but remembered that he closed them because of his hate of the cold, and locked them because of his paranoia. He thought about breaking a window, but came to the conclusion that a locksmith was most likely better.

He picked up his phone, then stopped, thinking about it. If someone he didn’t know could pick their way into the house, what’s stopping someone with a grudge doing the exact same thing?

They had cameras and an alarm system, but a short circuit somewhere around the house could disable them, or if a computer tech tapped into them…

Martin felt a weight in his chest. If a locksmith was successfully able to get the door open, then anyone could be able to get the door open, and anyone included Seth and his friends. If they ever decided they wanted to get back at him, they could get in easily.

He didn’t realize that he dropped his phone, and barely noticed when he stepped on it, looking around. Martin scanned the streets, starting to worry that Seth would have this idea, and show up.

He suddenly couldn’t breathe, now frantically looking for his stepfather’s car. He would kill Martin if he saw him, he’d hurt him and kill him.

He was tied to that bed, hands touching all over him. He didn’t want it, he begged for it to be over.

The hands were on him again. Martin swore he could feel them dragging against his skin, and he physically recoiled, tripping and falling into the grass.

He didn’t want to be back there, not again.

“Please, stop!”

“No!” He screamed at nothing, covering his head with his arms. Martin felt a sob build up, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Seth was going to find him, and even if Martin went back into the house, he’d find a way in, or break the door. He couldn't stop him, and no one would know what happened.

Martin felt something on his face, warm and wet in contrast to the cold. Then he felt something push against his chest, something that was warm. He instinctively reached out, wrapping his arms around whatever it was, shivering and still struggling to breathe.

He needed to look at the street again, see if he was coming, but the same wet feeling was on his face again.

After a couple minutes, he opened his eyes, the tears freezing against his face. He realized that it was Majesty who he was holding in his arms, and he realized that he was licking Martin’s face, just doing his job.

He pulled the Doberman closer, taking a few seconds before sitting up. Majesty instantly got up after he did, nudging his arm gently, waiting for Martin to move off the frozen grass. They both made it back to the door eventually, Martin working on clearing his mind by asking himself if it was the panic attack or the cold that was making him super tired.

He looked for his phone, stressing out until Majesty quickly trotted over and dropped it at his feet. He ignored the little bits of drool, seeing three texts and a missed call from Tristan.

Trishyfishy👀👄👀

December 14, 7:56 PM

Yo, what the fuck do you want

Jkjk, everything alright

Call me Mars.

Martin went to the contact and called, realizing he could hardly feel his hands. “Hello?” His voice trembled slightly, either from the crying or the cold, he wasn’t sure.

“Alright Martin?”

He chuckled hollowly. “Ah, I got locked out of the house.”

“Are you alright? You sound like you’re crying.”

“I got locked out of the fucking house Tristan. It’s like, -2 degrees out here.” There was a beat of silence.

“I’m on the way back, so uh, just… hang in there?” He rolled his eyes, petting Majesty. “I’m like, fifteen minutes away.”

He heard Tristan laugh at something he didn’t hear through the phone. “Where did you even go?”

“To a party, (figures) but some 9th year threw up in the punch bowl and two kids got in a fight over some stupid bet. It got boing. What about you? I thought you were with Sadie.”

“I was, but she had an appointment and I didn’t want to go so I just walked home instead, she lives like, half an hour away, so I didn’t, like, you know.” Majesty put his head on his lap, letting Martin stim by petting, effectively keeping him calm and awake.

Tristan hummed over the phone, but didn’t say anything. His phone buzzed in his hand, and he looked down, seeing that Matthew was texting him.

“I’ll call you back Trish.” He waited for a response, then hung up.

American.

December 14, 8:24 PM

I just saw a this lady with a really big yellow

snake around her neck and it made me think

of you

Which part?

The snake or the lady?

Both

Anyway

What are you doing?

Sitting on my front doorstep.

Why

Tat sounds boring

That**

lost my key.

I believe I left it at Sadie’s, but I can’t remember.

Oh f

So you can’t get in?

How long have you been out there

No one else will let you in?

Actually just hold on

Martin looked at his phone confusedly for a moment, before he was suddenly receiving a call from the other.

“Ok, go on,” Matthew said from the other side when he pushed the accept button.

“Er… I lost my key, and no one else is home.” His teeth chattered as he spoke.

“That sucks man, I’m sorry. My mom says hi by the way, and asked if you tried the window or a back door.”

He nodded, then realized that Matthew coudn’t see him. “Oh, yeah uh, the back door was locked, and the windows, I locked them before I left. Preventable measure you know?” He said, laughing a shrill, awkward laugh.

“Right. Don’t want any cold air getting in.” Matthew coughed, then went on. “Uh, is someone like, coming to let you in?”

“Yeah, Tristan is coming, he’s gonna be home soon. Also, hello.”

“What?”

“You said that your mum said hi, so i’m responding to that.” He put his head on Majesty’s for a moment, exhaling. When he picked it up again, he saw that he accidentally clicked on the facetime button.

It was at least nice to see his face.

“Sis, you’re red.” Matthew said, looking at the camera.

Martin cocked his head to the side, then cursed as he dropped his phone. “Why thank you for the relay of information,” he snarked, but it was the first time he had looked at himself since he was with Sadie. That was what, an hour and a half ago? Two?

His eyes looked sunken in, skin pale except for the exessive spots of red on his cheeks, ears, and his eyes, but that was different, because he had been crying. Still. He wasn’t able to tell with his lips, mostly because the black lipstick he normally wore was still clinging to his lips. It was truly a look.

“Are you alright?” Martin gave him a look that signified that he was anything but. “Right, right, force of habit, sorry darlin’… Random question, why would you go out in that cold of weather, especially cause you’re crippled?”

Ah, he was wondering if that question would come up. “Well, it was around six degrees when I left, I didn’t expect the temperature to drop so suddenly.”

Matthew gave him a perturbed look. “Six? That’s freezing?!”

“Well, yeah? But it wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t even freezing temperatures.” The other boy’s face didn’t change. It really wasn’t awful, but… oh wait. “Six degrees celsius Matthew, not fahrenheit. It would be about…” He thought about it for a minute, trying to ignore the sudden gust of wind. “Fourty… fouty-four degrees fahrenheit, I believe?”

“Oh, right, right, yeah. You know, y’all shame Americans for using fahrenheit, but it actually aduquateds for humans, not water. So.”

Well he was right about that, he was pretty sure. He couldn’t remember at the moment. “Hm.” He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to remove the heavy feeling from his eyelids.

“Woah hey, aren’t you not supposed to sleep? You might not wake up.”

“I wasn’t going to sleep. My eyes hurt.” He moved a trembling hand on top of Majesty’s head, once again back to petting. He blanked out for a moment, but he came back to Matthew talking, or yelling, through the phone.

“Darlin’- you need to wake up!” He looked at the phone, blinking eratically. He fell asleep? “Oh thank god,” he heard Matthew mutter through the phone. He looked up, realizing Majesty was walking around him, trying to wake him up too through nudges and pawing him. “You should probably stand up so you don’t fall asleep again.”

“Right.” He used Majesty as a balance to get to his feet, stepping around a couple times to try and get feeling back into his leg. Where the fuck was Tristan? He walked up and down the steps a few times, seeing that the tips of his fingers were going from a paper white to a more blue colour. He brought them to his face and wiped, feeling the skin that was marked with tears start to rip painfully.

Still shivering, he brought his phone up, asking Matthew something.

“Oh, yeah, it’s basically when-”

“What did I ask you?” He asked, looking at the phone.

The other boy looked at him, an indeterminable look in his eyes. “Uh, you asked about what happens-” The phone went black. He tried turnng it on again, to no avail, when he realized it died. His head was spinning, and he tried turing it on again, and again, until Majesty nudged him, and he had to stop tears from coming again.

He sat next to the door, the service dog standing next to him. He blinked harshly, feeling something burn in his chest again.

Majestly circled him again, going back to standing in the same spot. He rubbed him a couple times, but then had to rub his eyes.

“-rtin a dumbass yeah but he’ll be fine.” He woke up, feeling like he was being poked by a bunch of sewing needles. He blinked slowly, trying to sit up when he felt the blanket fall off.

Blanket? Martin moved his hand around, looking for Majesty. A coat of fur under his hand made him exhale in relief.

“Christ, Martin, you gave everyone here a fucking heart attack, you actually back with us this time?”

He muttered something, but it came out sounding weird, so he repeated it, with better results. “Can you give me a chance to see who everyone is before you start screaming.” He used Majesty to help him up, who jumped on the couch next to him to help him actually stay up.

Standing in front of him was Tristan, and two other guys that Martin recognized from school. David and Aaron, he’s pretty sure it was.

Doing a quick glance around, he noticed that A) His clothes had been changed. He was wearing a black sweater and sweat pants, B) He was in fact warm, seeing as there was a heater pointed at his direction, and C) his phone was no where to be found. He wondered how many hours he had been asleep.

Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but Martin interupted him. “Who changed my clothes?” This seemed to stop whatever the other boy was going to say.

“You did?”

Martin gave him an incredious look. “I feel like I would remember that.”

“Clearly not. What’s today Martin?”

He tried to remember the last conversation he had with someone over text. It was with… Matthew, who he really needed to call back, he realized. “Er… Wednesday, December 14?”

“It’s a few hours until friday. You’ve been asleep or on autopilot for like, the last 24 hours.” Oh. That didn’t feel right. That was even worse, actually. “Also, Dad and Oliver are on their way back. They were gonna come back before, but you were awake and like, warming up so I told them not to.”

Yeah, cool, whatever, he was still confused about the autopilot thing. “How often do I do that?”

Tristan raised a confused eyebrow, then said, “Oh, not that often, just right after like, messed up stuff happens. You kinda just, go through the mechanics of something.”

“When else have I done it?”

He pursed his lips. “Er, I’ll tell you later.” So he’d done it after what happened with Seth. He wouldn’t have figured it out at the moment if it weren’t for the thing his brother did with his mouth whenever his Mother’s husband was brought up.

“Right, ok.” He got up from the couch, noting as Tristan said something to his friends and waved as they quickly left. “Where’s my phone?”

“It’s where you left it.” He saw Martin’s face and added, “It’s on your bed.” Ah. He went to go walk to the stairs, but staggered on the second step. Majesty was already by hi side, so he leaned on him. “I can go get it Mars, or you can have Majesty get it, but Oliver said, and I quote ‘Your impulsevness and boyfriend can wait two seconds. Sit down Martin.’”

He sat back on the couch and sighed. “Phone, Majesty.” The dog perked up and ran up the stairs, coming back and dropping it on his lap. “Good boy,” he cooed, petting the top of his head.

Martin unlocked it (wincing at the date), partially watching as Tristan got up and walked out the room. He went to his last texts, and saw some that weren’t his. He assumed it was his brother who texted him, just saying that he was alive, and in the house.

You

December 15, 9:07 PM

Hey.

Is this a bad time?

Depends on who I’m talkin to

I hope I’m on the good spectrum then.

Darlin?

Your one and only.

I meant to put ‘the’ but ‘your’ works too.

I’m so glad you’re alright

Like, I thought I fucking lost you

You can’t kill me all that easily.

Right.

Well.

I’m actually in public rn and I can’t call and I’m sure there are some people you need to talk to

Yeah.

Sorry :(

Give me one hour and then i’m all yours

Take your time Love.

I sure have a lot of it.

I’m currenty on bedrest, so…

Aw :(

I won’t take up much more of your time then.

Call me when you can?

I miss you.

Of course darlin

And i miss you too

Martin closed out of the messenger app, only to get a little black heart sent to him. He loved that motherfucker.

He didn’t even bother texting his dad to see if the man was busy or not. He knew that if he did that it would be an immediate phone call, so, there wasn’t really a point.

He wouldn’t consider his father pushy or too suffocating. Martin loved and attention and praise he got from his father. His only concern was that Oliver would do some stupid shit (like father, like son) and burn himself out trying to care for everyone else.

He went to the contact and pushed the call button. It rang twice before both of his parents’ (fathers’?) asked about a million questions, all being variations of ‘What happened?’ and ‘Are you ok?’ and ‘We’re nearly home.’

“Yes, concerned adults, I’m perfectly fine. I just left my key at Sadie’s, I think. I should probably call and ask her-”

Tristan handed him a mug filled with overly sweetened hot tea, the only way he would drink it. “Don’t worry about it, her parents brought it back, along with like, a million other things because they felt so bad.”

Martin put it on speaker, just so they’d know who Martin was suddenly talking to. “I insisted on walking home, so it’s really my fault.” He took a sip of the tea when he heard the voices from the other end disprove this statement. “Also, define “a million.”

His brother shrugged. “I hope you like chocolate and tiny doll eyes.” He couldn’t help but feel like shit about it. He insisted he walk home, and he forgot his key, so he didn’t know why they blamed themselves so much. It was really on himself.

“I can hear your thinking Martin. You can’t blame yourself for this.” A door closed on the other side of the phone.

“I very well can, and I very well will.” Tristan sighed, but didn’t say much else about it. “Anyway.”

Over the phone, Nick asked: “Did you try calling a locksmith?” Martin felt his chest tighten up at the question. Majesty was immedietly at his side, putting his head on his lap. The other boy took notice and took the mug from his grip, and grabbed his hand.

He was going to say somehing, but jumped when the front door was unlocked and opened. Tristan hung up the phone, squeezing his hand at the same time.

Oliver and Nick walked in, not even bothering to hide their relief, until they noticed the condition that the other three were in, relief turning into concern.

“Hey baby,” Oliver said, coming and putting a hand on Martin’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

Martin exhaled, feeling better that his father was back with him. “Uh,” he laughed awkwardly, another shrill laugh. He opened his mouth, then closed it, not being able to pinpoint a good response, so he just shrugged and crossed his arms.

Tristan let go of his hand pretty quickly, instead going over to talk to his dad. Oliver put himself where Tristan was, giving his son an indetrminable smile.

He held out his arms, a silent invitation for a familiar embrace. Martin crawled over, filling the space and resting his head on the crease of his father’s neck. He felt a hand soothingly run up and down his back, reassurances being whispered in his ear.

“So you wanna rely on how you nearly died again..?” Well he won’t pass on having good attention on him.

Oliver whispered, “We can talk later baby.” To which he nodded, breaking away from the much needed hug.

Later, when he got some time alone, where Nick was cooking and the other two were in the parlor, he was upstairs, going back to the familiar contact.

You

December 15, 10:43 PM

Attachment: One image

:)

👁👁?

It’s in german

I’m fully aware.

Well I can’t google translate cause it’s a picture

Once again, I am fully aware love :).

😾😾

Rude

I will be having someone translate that later so don’t act all smug

I wouldn’t dream of it.

Hm. Call me

Alright.

“Hey darlin’,” the voice said over the phone.

#noncon mention #noncon tw #depersonalization #TW child abuse #hypothermia #paranoia #anxitey #service dog #whump #wac2020 #whumper #whumpee #whumperflies #do it for the girls and the gays thats it #caretaker #multiple caretakers

[pluto-art]

- PINKY AND THE BRAIN - EXPERIMENTS -

Below the cut is a personal project on the much more morbid side. Animal lab experimentation is always something I’ve found equal parts horrible and fascinating. Once in a blue moon, I’ll do research on the subject out of curiosity and/or for storytelling purposes. Even as a kid, I found this of interest, and when watching Pinky and the Brain I was always a bit disappointed that we never saw more of what the characters actually went through in the lab during the day. Granted, there’s a reason as to why this was never shown, as a child audience had to be kept in mind, yet still I pondered about it....

Over the last few days, I’ve been churning out compositions based on internet findings -- old and new experiments that rats and mice are put through, many of them humane, some of them very much not. It was an eye-opening journey for me artistically and otherwise, discovering what I’m comfortable drawing and what I never want to sketch again, as well as learning more about this realm of the scientific world.

WARNING: SOME GRAPHIC CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. If needles, patients dealing with the effects of cancer, and general portrayals of pain bother you, I wouldn’t bother venturing onward. I not only drew out experiments that the characters might have gone through, but also describe all of my findings in detail and provide video footage to go along with it. While I didn’t go full-on vivisection or anything, some of this might still be disturbing, so I’m taking extra precaution.

All of the images below are “color-coded” and graded. The experiments start out fairly tame, then get worse... and worse... and worse. The backgrounds reflect this, going from fairly light to quite dark.

-------------

Experiment #1 - Tail Flick Test

A fairly harmless experiment. The subject is mostly restrained, leaving only their tail exposed. An intense light beam is projected onto the exposed appendage, with the animal flicking their tail when the pain/heat becomes too much. This test is utilized in basic pain research and to measure analgesic effectiveness.

I wanted Brain to wear an expression of deep apathy -- he’s done this a million times and will probably do it a million times more. At this point, he doesn’t even care anymore.

For the background, I simply copied an environment in one of the videos I found.

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzrA1tDTfkQ

Experiment #2 - Rotarod Performance Test

Another experiment that’s generally harmless. One or multiple subjects are placed on elevated rotating rods so as to measure such things as endurance, balance, grip strength, and more.

I imagine Pinky would enjoy this test, as he’s familiar with running on a wheel and actually enjoys more strenuous activities. Brain, on the other hand, would only participate via sheer force. He’d also be more prone to fall after a shorter period of time, getting tired faster than his cage mate.

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v56MtrmWAs0

Experiment #3 - Shot (General)

Nothing special. Just Brain about to get shot.

This is all highly exaggerated, of course. A mouse would simply be held firmly, not strapped down, for a simple injection. Also, I can’t imagine why they’d be shot in the face, although Meg told me that scientists tend to draw blood samples from a mouse’s cheek. Need to look that up. I wasn’t at all going for accuracy here, but rather how it might feel -- how scary it would be.

Experiment #4 - Sciatic Nerve Constriction

An experiment in chronic neuropathic pain, due to the central or peripheral nervous system sustaining damage. Under anesthesia, the animal’s sciatic nerve is exposed via skin incision. The connective tissue between the biceps femoris muscles and the gluteus superficialis is cut. The nerve is then loosely tied with four chrome gut ligatures so to occlude, but not arrest, blood flow. The wound is sutured, the animal is given 24 hours to recover, and then both hindpaws are tested for pain sensitivity. Sounds terrible, but it’s certainly not the worst of the experiments I researched.

I have no idea what’s going on with the coloring in this. Again, going for feel more than accuracy, but the hues are way too calm.

Information link: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/22433911

Experiment #5 - Writhing Test

Particularly cruel test in which acetic acid is introduced into the system, inducing severe internal pain. The typical response includes writhing, abdominal retraction, and stretching of the hind limbs. Despite the test being withdrawn in 2004 for unethical reasons, it is still employed by some.

This was my favorite one to draw. Although the lighting and shading are not the greatest, it made for an interesting experiment. I did not intend for the lines to be so bold, but it kind of turned into an almost comic-style illustration. I ended up playing around with it a bit and like the result enough to post it.

I would not watch the video below if you are squeamish. It is difficult to swallow. On another note, you may find the “Empathetic Behavior: Emotional Contagion in Mice” section in the second link of interest. For cage mates in particular, if one or both mice were injected with the same acid, and allowed to observe one another, an injected mouse would writhe more if its partner was also in pain. I can’t help but imagine Brain and Pinky in this type of situation....

Information link #1: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3543562/

Information link #2: https://www.sciencedirect.com/topics/biochemistry-genetics-and-molecular-biology/writhing-test

Video example: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ib63O4F856w

Experiment #6 - Transgenic K5ras Mouse / Nude Mouse (Combination)

Experiment in which cancer is induced in the system. Nude mice are bred for a number of tests, and are used for this one, as well.

My least favorite to draw, but my favorite to color. One particular experiment I found showed a tumor in every follicle on a mouse’s muzzle. Was trying to go for this look, albeit exacerbated.

Information link #1: https://www.cell.com/current-biology/fulltext/S0960-9822(98)70203-9?_returnURL=https%3A%2F%2Flinkinghub.elsevier.com%2Fretrieve%2Fpii%2FS0960982298702039%3Fshowall%3Dtrue

Information link #2: https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2012/08/weirdest-lab-mice/

-------

Bonus:

This is based on a test that I found absolutely hilarious. There’s a certain chemical, called W-18, that’s been on the drug market for... some years. The potency of it is supposedly insanely high, although this has never been proven. It’s basically a research chemical (created at a university in the 80s) with analgesic properties that were shown to be “painkillers or blockers of the painkilling effect of morphine in mice”. Mice, not humans. To quote a specific article:

“... when they first injected some of these chemicals into the animals at a dose similar to aspirin, the mice stood up for about a minute and fell over unconscious. They remained unconscious – for five days. But they weren’t dead. They were still breathing. And when they woke, they seemed fine, other than being really hungry and thirsty.”

They literally keeled over from the supposed potency of it. From what I recall, they don’t even know exactly what it was doing to their system, other than the fact that it knocked them out. I just find it funny that they were completely fine after awakening days later.

Although the pure smell of it wouldn’t cause such a reaction, I liked the idea of it in picture form and so depicted Brain simply taking a whiff before passing out.

Information link: https://www.forbes.com/sites/davidkroll/2016/04/30/w-18-the-high-potency-research-chemical-making-news-what-it-is-and-what-it-isnt/#2c45a5dd4757

-------------

Experiments researched, but not implemented:

- Tail dipped in ice cold water (mentioned here: cold water) - Morris water maze - Porton Down nerve agent test(s) (the worst; not even sure how I’d depict this)

The Porton Down tests sounded so indescribably cruel that I simply couldn’t bear to put Brain or Pinky through either of those, much less draw them out. It was the most horrific of the experiments I found, second only to a story about a French physiologist in the 1700s/1800s who performed, I believe, vivisection on live, six-week-old puppies. There’s a limit and that’s my limit. Even the cancer-based composition above was difficult to create. I legit felt dirty drawing it.

Researching these subjects was incredibly interesting, and I came across a few articles that touched on animal experimentation and the question of whether or not it’s ethical. Should such practices continue? It’s more complicated than a simple “yes” or no” answer. Some tests are fairly harmless, whilst others border on the inhumane, and some are downright cruel. Some people say that, without testing, there would be a lot less medicine on the shelves to assist in relieving and curing our ailments, whilst others argue that 90+% of the time the testing done is unnecessary, the results yielded by the subjects dissimilar to those that would be shown by humans and, henceforth, stating that the inaccuracies are numerous. This particular article offered up what I thought was a pretty genuine and interesting debate on the matter:

Pain in Lab Animals: How Much is Too Much?

In an interview with Dr. Jeffrey Mogil, a neuroscientist, he mentions that:

“You have complete control over everything in mice. Within limits, you can do whatever you want as long as you minimize pain and suffering of the subjects.“

Full interview: https://www.integrativepainscienceinstitute.com/latest_podcast/sex-differences-in-pain-and-pain-inhibition-with-dr-jeffrey-mogil/

While many establishments do follow the Animal Welfare Act, other laboratories still implement unethical practices. Also, the rules for what constitutes as acceptable in regards to tests that can only be performed without painkillers or anesthesia administered is... nebulous.

Thankfully, there is a number of lab testing equipment on the market specifically designed to be more humane and less stress-inducing to its subjects. These restrainers, for example, allow the animal to “walk in” without having to be physically forced backwards into a container:

Restrainers

Here is another example of testing that is relatively pain-free:

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4401362/

It’s simple and inexpensive while still allowing scientists to perform tests.

Below is a video showing how a type of rotarod works, one that doesn’t place the rods too high and provides a cushion underneath in case the subjects fall:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T38fDS2i13k

This tail flick analgesia meter comes installed with a cut off timer to avoid damage to the animal:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JgaStZt143o

So there are options. How often are such options utilized in the field? I have no idea, although there are laws that should be followed and, from the sound of it, generally are adhered to. Not everyone in this business is cruel. Though you do have your occasional psychopath who performs very morally questionable operations behind closed doors, I believe that this is a great exception to the rule, and that there are a lot of laboratory workers who genuinely want to inflict as little pain as possible upon the animal. Just an opinion. I don’t have tons of evidence, but it seems like most people are sane. Lol.

Most of the experiments I inflicted upon Brain because, I think, Pinky is so pure that I have a hard time imagining him sustaining any kind of extreme pain that would genuinely hurt him. Also, he borders on being freakin’ masochistic, finding pleasure in a lot of painful situations, whereas Brain does not. Brain has been through a lot, mentally and physically. It seemed more... “appropriate” to put him in these situations, as terrible as that sounds.

All of that having been said, I never want to do this kind of exercise again. While a lot of it was interesting, and some of it even fun, parts of it were legitimately painful. The cancer one.... I felt horrible....

#pinky and the brain #tw:pain #tw:experimentation #tw:needle #tw:needles #tw:cancer #fan art

[gvbejvmes]

Drabble: The Present

Title: Fridays with CeCe Rating: PG-13 Characters: Gabriel James-Michaels, Bella James-Michaels, Constance James, Miss Alison, Andrew James, Maxxie Turner, Jonathan James-Michaels (mentioned), Velvet Starr (mentioned), Tommy “Kid” Kidderro (mentioned) Relationship: Implied Gabriel James-Michaels/Jonathan James-Michaels, Andrew James/Maxxie Turner, past Andrew James/Velvet Starr Warnings: Implied drug use and child endangerment, mentions of canon murder and incorrect medical diagnoses  Summary: Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services.

Twice a month Bella had a playdate at social services. She called it her ‘CeCe Day.’ He or Jay would take her down there, and she would bounce excitedly in their arms as she told them about all the things she wanted to do while she was there. It was always on a Friday, and it was always four hours in the morning. When they picked her up, she would either chatter on and on at 100mph about what she and her CeCe had done or she would be mopey because her CeCe showed up late or forgot about their playdate. Mostly she loved Playdate Days. Gabe, on the other hand, despised them.

While he and Johnny called them ‘Playdate Days,’ they’d never actually explained to Bella what they were. They would when she was older, but for now, she was too young to understand. All she knew was that her Mommy’s name was CeCe (well, Constance, but she chose to call her CeCe), and she had a standing playdate with her every other Friday. She never asked why it was always in the same room. And she never asked why Miss Alison, their caseworker, was always there. She only knew that she only got to see CeCe in a certain place at a certain time - the specifics didn’t bother her yet. Bella was three months old when Gabe got the call from social services asking if he could take custody of his granddaughter; she didn’t know any other life than this one.

Like most ‘Playdate Days,’ Gabe arrived a half hour early to pick Bella up. He didn’t know why he did it. Sometimes it was because he was already in the area and didn’t want to stray too far away. Other times it was because he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Today it was a combination of the two. He still needed to go to the art store to pick up a couple of brushes he had custom ordered, but something in his gut had told him to stop by the social services building first.

Instead of going in right away and sitting in the waiting room, he went around to the back of the building to the designated smoking area first - and that was when he saw her. 

Constance James was skinny in a way that didn’t look natural. She had definition around her collarbone and chest that reminded Gabe of bird bones. It was like her body didn’t know how to retain fat or muscle tissue on that part of her body. She almost looked concave, but Gabe wouldn’t go quite that far. Her skin didn’t sit quite right on her bones - like she’d lost weight too quickly and her skin tried to conform to her body, but failed. It didn’t hang, but it didn’t look entirely normal either.

Her long blonde hair was streaked with black dye and was pulled back into a severe ponytail at the crown of her head. A cigarette was dangling from her lips as she texted rapidly on her phone. Her nails were short, and the cuticles looked picked at. Chipped nail polish caught the sunlight as her fingers moved across the screen. 

She must have seen him approach because she suddenly groaned and put her phone away. “Did they call you?” She asked as she pulled the cigarette out of her mouth. Her foot was pressed against the side of the building, which made Gabe think of a flamingo for some reason.

“Should they have called me, Connie?” He asked his daughter as he pulled out his own cigarette and lit up. He leaned against the wall near her, knowing better by now than to try to have direct eye contact with his estranged daughter.

She shrugged and took a long drag of her cigarette. She looked better than the last time he had seen her. A lot of the time she ducked out before Gabe could get a good look at her. Today she was wearing jeans that actually fit without falling off her hips, and a thick gray sweater that fell off her shoulder, but that looked like it was the style and not the size. She looked healthier than the last time he’d seen her. Of all the things to have inherited, she inherited her mother’s terrible parenting and her grandfather’s temper and addiction.

“I dunno. They always seem to call you when I fuck up.” She admitted. “Ari kicked me out of the room.”

That was going to be a fun conversation with the case worker. He nodded and took a drag, using the time to think about what to say to that. “She prefers being called Bella.” He finally settled on.

Connie finished her cigarette and dropped the butt onto the ground before pushing off the wall. “No, you prefer Bella. She’s three. She’ll answer to any name I call her.” And with that his daughter started walking back towards the street. “I’ll see you when I see you.”

He watched his daughter walk away before finishing his cigarette and sanitizing his hands. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but they both knew she wouldn’t listen.  Pushing all thoughts of his daughter away, he went inside to pick up Bella. And sure enough, as soon as he walked into the waiting room, the receptionist led him into a conference room to wait for the caseworker.

“Mr. James-Michaels.” Miss Alison greeted him.  And it was Miss Alison. He’d tried just calling her Alison once and she nearly bit his head off. His husband said it was a Child Services/Social Worker thing and to just roll with it. 

“Miss Alison.” He greeted in return, watching as she sat down at the table across from him. “I ran into Connie outside.”

The younger woman’s face paled. “Did she tell you what happened?” She pulled out her tablet and Gabe knew from experience that she was pulling up their file.

“Just that Bella threw her out of the room. And that she’s trying to make ‘Ari’ happen.”

Miss Alison sighed. “I put in a call to the judge. We may have to terminate her visitation for a couple of weeks.” It looked like she was looking for the best way to explain to Gabe what happened. Technically there was video footage, but Gabe hated watching it and Miss Alison knew that. 

“Miss James has once again refused to follow the rules of visitation. She was thirty minutes late, she insisted on referring to Bella as Ari, even after both myself and Bella asked her to refrain, and she once again told Bella she was going to buy a house and take her away from you. It was at that point that Bella screamed and asked her to go away. We escorted Miss James out immediately. It’s become very clear that the current arrangement is not conducive to Bella’s wellbeing. You and your husband will likely get a summons within the next week or so with a court date to meet with Judge Murphy again.”

Before Gabe could respond, there was a knock on the door, and one of the assistants popped their head into the room. “Sorry, Bella kept asking me to call you. When I let her know you were already here, she demanded to see you because and I quote ‘the connatution says so.’” And he looked like he was trying so hard not to laugh.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “That she definitely got from my husband.” He dug around in his satchel and pulled out a package of freeze dried apple slices and tossed them at the assistant before pulling off his beanie and tossing that to him as well. “Those should tide her over until I’m done in here.” He promised. “I have to go over my and my husband’s availability for the next couple of weeks with Miss Alison.” 

By the time Gabe finished his conversation and went to the other room to collect Bella, she was standing by the door, coat on and his beanie shoved down over her wild hair. “Took you long enough, GG.” She complained as he signed her out and carried her out of the building. “You dunno what I had to deal with today.”

His granddaughter was definitely three going on forty-seven.

After going to pick up his custom brushes, they headed over to the Collective so they could drop them off in his studio and because there were some orders he apparently needed to authorize. As soon as they walked inside, Bella told him she wanted to watch ‘the spinning’. He had no idea what she was talking about, until they walked to the classroom and he saw Maxxie running his beginning pottery class. Bella scampered off to sit near Maxxie and watch him move his clay around. Somehow he had a feeling she was going to wind up covered in clay - again. Shaking his head, he walked out of the classroom to find Andrew James sitting at the reception desk.

His son was twenty-six years old and all dark hair and tan skin. There was something about his hair that reminded Gabe of how his hair had been when he was his age. It was long and hung in his eyes - all the damn time. He was broad-shouldered, but was constantly hunching in on himself. It was like he was trying to make himself smaller everywhere he went. If he had to describe his son in one word, it would be skittish. 

He spent years on medication he didn’t need after he claimed that he saw aliens take his aunt away. It wasn’t until he was older that he finally saw a therapist who saw his story for what it was: a way for his brain to comprehend a horrible thing he’d witnessed. Unfortunately by that time, he’d already spent years on medication he never needed and the side effects were irreversible. Thankfully the worst of it was memory loss and shaky hands.

“What are you doing working today?” He asked curiously as he gestured for his son to let him onto the computer. His son had been working at the Collective since he moved to New York. He’d made it clear he didn’t want any handouts, but he’d connected so well with the others at the Collective that it was strange to think about him working anywhere else. “I thought you refused to work on days Maxxie and Velvet were working.” 

He’d dated both Velvet and Maxxie and now tried to avoid both of them whenever he could. His relationship with Velvet hadn’t been all that serious. As soon as he found out Velvet slept in a coffin, he was out. Maxxie, on the other hand, had been very serious. They’d dated for six months, which was the longest he’d ever seen his friend in a relationship. It had ended badly, to say the very least. He wasn’t entirely sure what happened between them, but fire had been involved somehow. 

Drew made a face as he perched on the desk, shoulders hunched over and ankles crossed. “That’s not true.” He lied. “I traded shifts with Kid. He had his first GED prep class today.”

Gabe smiled at that. It had taken Tommy long enough. He pulled up the order he needed to review. There were still things he needed to do up in his office, but knowing that his son was working made him want to stay downstairs with him for as long as he could get away with it. 

“CJ texted me.” Drew said after a long moment. “She wanted me to talk some ‘sense’ into you.” 

He rolled his eyes. “And how’s that going for you?” While Connie didn’t talk to him, she still talked to her brother, but mostly only when she needed something. Drew, for his part, didn’t take sides. He loved his sister despite her faults, but he also knew how she was and what was best for his niece.

Before Drew could respond, Maxxie’s voice came from the classroom. “Pookie! Can you come get your little sister?! She’s throwing clay on the ground.” And nothing about that surprised him except for…

“Pookie?” He mouthed at his son, eyebrow raised. Maybe there was more to Drew working today than just taking Tommy’s shift.

His son blushed as he hopped off the desk. “That’s the part you’re focusing on? Not the fact that he keeps calling my niece my sister?” He grumbled out. “I’ll watch Bella; just go work.” He waved a hand in his dad’s direction. 

As his son disappeared into the classroom and he could hear Bella squealing in delight, he couldn’t help but to mouth out again: “Pookie?”

#drabble #pairing: Gabe/Johnny #pairing: Drew/Maxxie

[the-omni-princess]

Frozen Heart [Chapter 11]

Author: @the-omni-princess

Summary:  After the war against Hydra, King Bucky comes home to take what has been promised to him since he was young, you. But he is not the same person as the young boy that you grew up with. Can she break through his tough shell and bring back the young man she once fell in love with? Or will she be forced to marry the monster everyone thinks he’s become?

Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: King!Bucky x Fem!Reader (Royalty Au!)

Warnings: Torture, violence, mentions/suggestions of sexual harassment/assault, language, guilty!Bucky, ANGST

A/N:

this sucks. For a rundown, pm me and I'll spare you the details and give you the things you should know

[Series Masterlist]  [Masterlist]

----

You woke up with a dull pain radiating in your head. You tried reaching towards it, but cold harsh metal stopped the movement, pulling a groan from the back of your throat.

"Looks like the Princess is finally up," a familiar voice said just behind your ear. You shuddered, struggling to open your eyes, knowing it was Rumlow. The past night's events slowly came back to you. Bucky had blood on him. Why did he have blood on him? You hoped it was the assassin sent to keep you in line and that Bucky wasn’t hurt.

"Good, she'll do nicely," a new voice joined in, sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes finally responded to your brain, opening them gingerly to take in your surroundings. The first thing you noticed was how little light there was, and that you were chained up in a metal chair which you saw was screwed to the ground. Then you were flooded with light, making you hiss as your eyes struggled to adjust. You finally were able to look up, you took in the face of your newest captor. You swallowed hard, definitely recognizing the face in front of you. Armin Zola. The man who experimented and tortured Bucky. You felt a snarl grow on your lips, your face showing noticing but pure distaste for the man in front of you. "Ah, you know who I am? Do you know what we'll do to you to get what we want?" You took your chances and spit at his feet, growling up at him. Rumlow laughed behind you, a knife suddenly appearing into your eye line. You tensed, watching their every move.

"You see, it's not all about you, Princess despite ruining our original plan, you still fit perfectly into our new plan. We want the power you hold. One accident and you're suddenly Queen of the South, and even if you're not crowned, that baby inside you is the future ruler of the North. Your Lil ole Brother, and your good fuck buddy Bucky, will both be abdicating their thrones, handing them over to Hydra." The knife came closer and you snarled, baring your teeth at the men as they came closer. Eyes watched you from the shadows, and as the man stepped into the light, you realized it was King Pierce, yet another man you despised.

"It's simple dear Princess. If they refuse, we stab one easy knife into that stomach of yours. Two birds, one knife." You felt your heart drop, your dry throat unable to come up with words to express how much you loathed the men in front of your eyes.

"You're making a mistake," you coughed out, locking eyes with the so-called king in front of you.

The knife flew down, stabbing straight through your palm, making you cry out. You bit your tongue hard, desperate not to show these monsters that they can affect you. You tasted bitter copper as you cut your tongue, holding onto the little self-control you had left. "How so, little princess?" Brock was the one to say it, the words makings you grimace.

It was then that you noticed the small red light of a camera in the shadows. They were recording this. Of course, they are. You thought, these monsters wanted to torture your family into submission. You looked dead into the red light, coughing up a laugh, "You underestimate them."

Pierce gave off an odd-sounding chuckle, like a man who knew he had already won. "What? We underestimating their love for you? That's what we want dear Princess," he nodded to Rumlow, who ran the knife across your collarbones, nicking you slightly with a hiss.

You looked up at the men in front of you, giving off a wicked grin. "No. You underestimate their fury."

-

Meanwhile, up in the mountains, Bucky was pacing around the strategy table in the war room. Aurora paced beside him, whining softly as she sensed his distress. Dark circles under his eyes, hands running through his hair for the millionth time, he looked like an utter mess. Everyone else around the table looked virtually the same.

The first thing he had done the second you were gone was trying to run after you. The shattered glass of the door didn’t do anything as he nor Aurora could fit into the steel spaces left by the door, leaving him to watch as they dragged your unconscious body away. Hydra had covered your scent as well as the raging snowstorm so not even the wolves could find you. He then practically ripped open a new one with the guards. Most sung like canaries and it was long until he had every undercover Hydra agent in a line, bruised and bloody, one already dead when his wrath got the best of him.

He wrung his hands, bruises blooming on his right hand, the hand currently gripping onto the constellation necklace he gave you, the one ripped away from you like you were ripped from him. Now, he and the few people left he trusted, were in the war room. A room left unused in over a year, and one of the only rooms left without your little touch of love. He couldn't stand looking at anything you had done to bring life into the castle, he didn't deserve that love. He only deserved the guilt he felt when he would look at the shattered necklace in his hand and the parchment slip beside it. A broken necklace, his broken promise.

The doors to the room flung open, a beaten-up Sam forgoing formality as Steve walked in, followed by only a few trusted advisors and soldiers. Steve was ready to punch Bucky, but one look at his long-time best friend and he knew he couldn't beat him up, the man was already doing it to himself. He sighed, wordlessly pulling Bucky into his arms, acting like a lifeline to a flailing kite in a tornado.

"We'll get her back, Buck, you know she's strong, she can handle them," he spoke softly as if speaking to a wounded animal. Most of the people around the table were a little uneasy at the sight, their Kings breaking down in front of them, broken, afraid. Lost.

"I broke my promise, Stevie," Bucky's voice sounded hoarse, hours of tears being held back hiding just beneath the surface.

"We'll get her back, both of them back," the blonde replied, holding the brunette closer as both started to cry.

Bucky pulled away slightly, shaking his head as he managed to open his hand, right beside his broken necklace was his broken promise. Steve recognized it immediately, the distinct parchment used for special occasions in the South, the piece of paper Bucky borrowed from Steve specifically when he told him he wanted to officially court you.

"You didn't just break my promise, you broke your courtship promise," Nat suddenly spoke, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place.

He nodded, eyes red with tears, cheeks puffy. "’I promise to protect you, love you, and never let anyone harm you. Until the end of the line, until the day my soul no longer exists,’" Steve quoted in a soft voice, the only other person to have seen the writing.

Shuri, who had come in an hour before Steve and was sitting beside her brother, stood, rage in her eyes. "Then let's get her back, she is the strongest woman I know but she cannot survive forever in those Savage's grip," she slammed her hands onto the table, earning the attention of the four Kings around the table. "We need a plan. There are four Kings in this room, why don't you act like it!"

Prince Loki then spoke up, "I have spies in Hydra's Kingdom, they shall report anything to me, especially a kidnapped Princess."

"My forces are closest to the Hydra Borders, they will defend the border and push their men back, as well as join your forces," T'Challa spoke up.

Steve nodded, "This is an act of war against the South, my men are already gathering together to fight. They will be ready by dusk fall tomorrow."

Nat opened her mouth to speak, before Squire Peter ran in. He looked pale, eyes shot, shaking, holding up a flash drive. "This was just found outside the palace gates, right in a spot we could find."

Wanda shot forward, taking the flash drive. On the opposite side was the red symbol of Hydra, making her shudder. "Let's see what they want," she was terrified. The last time the North had seen a flash drive like this, it had came attached with Bucky's arm, a fact not lost by him as he stared the tiny black device down.

He paled as he saw it, pulling himself from Steve's arms. "Play it. Now." His voice cracked, the only emotion visible in the cold face starting to appear once more.

Shaky hands plugged it into a projector, which lit up into the middle of the table, everyone having a front-row seat to what they were doing to you. You sat in some gods-awful metal chair, shivering from the cold, unconscious. Your eyes fluttered, and you reached for your head, only to be stopped by the rusted chains around you. Bucky noticed the dry blood that caked your hair in the exact spot Rumlow had knocked you out, making him start to see red in his vision. Speaking of the dog, his voice rang out just as you groaned softly, "Looks like the Princess is finally up," his face appearing behind yours.

Another voice rang out, "Good, she'll do nicely," and Bucky felt his blood run cold.

"Zola," he mumbled softly, eyes locking onto the image of you in front of him. Steve shuddered beside him, everyone in the room was well aware of what that man has done. Your eyes had finally opened, just for Rumlow to hit the switch behind you, making you hiss as you adjusted to the new light. Once you looked up at the man, you snarled, and Natasha cracked a smile, proud of your courage. "Ah, you know who I am? Do you know what we'll do to you to get what we want?"You spit at his feet, and Bucky felt a sense of pride filled him, that's his girl.

"You see, it's not all about you, Princess despite ruining our original plan, you still fit perfectly into our new plan. We want the power you hold. One accident and you're suddenly Queen of the South, and even if you're not crowned, that baby inside you is the future ruler of the North. Your Lil ole Brother, and your good fuck buddy Bucky, will both be abdicating their thrones, handing them over to Hydra."Both men in question shared a look, letting the realization that they just might actually do it to save you set in. Bucky would do it without hesitation, to him, there was no life worth living without you.

As King Pierce stepped into the camera's view, Bucky's grip on the wooden table tightened, the metal of his hand starting to make the wood creak. His flesh hand gripped the necklace and parchment tighter, feeling his heart fall at the next words spoken. "It's simple dear Princess. If they refuse, we stab one easy knife into that stomach of yours. Two birds, one knife."Shuri looked over towards Bucky, taking note of the fire starting to burn in his eyes. The cold king of the North was looked ready to kill everyone in his path.

As you spoke, Shuri noticed a crack in the King's composure. "You're making a mistake." Steve leaned forward, hanging onto your every word. Wanda visibly paled as they stabbed you, and Natasha could see how hard you were trying to not cry out in pain. Too focused on you, they missed what the men said, only hearing your response. "You underestimate them."

You coughed up blood as you spoke, the trickle of red down your lips made Bucky tense. "What? We underestimating their love for you? That's what we want dear Princess," Steve felt sick, they were using you only as a means to get to them, he visibly winced as you hissed from the next cut on your body.

"No. You underestimate their fury."Your wicked grin made Natasha smile sadly, she knew you'd hold onto whatever you could to save them, and she knew how stubborn you could be when it came to family.

"Let's challenge that," Zola took a step forward, and everyone in the room tensed. The video couldn't be more than a few hours old so whatever they did to you was already done, but they couldn't look away.

Rumlow ran the knife down your side, cutting away the fabric, leaving you in tatters, barely covering your skin. He pressed the knife harder, and you shut your eyes on the screen, visibly shaking as the knife cut into you. This went on for almost twenty minutes, simple cuts and knife jabs, determined to simply tease you and whoever was watching. You bit your tongue, hissing out loud only when Zola stabbed a syringe into your neck. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as blue liquid dripped out of your nose and eyes and mouth as you passed out. "How long do you think my patience will last before we have our way with the precious princess? Such a shame she's already pregnant, my men would probably love a turn with her," Rumlow knelt, the camera now directly staring into his eyes. "This is only the beginning Barnes. We'll break her, just like we broke you." The screen went black, the room quiet.

The wood splintered around Bucky's hand, shattered as his anger got the best of him. He had a growl building in the back of his throat, deep in his chest. Every knife flick, every word uttered, every second they had you, he felt his fury grow. He knew, without a doubt, he would kill them for even thinking they could touch you.

-

It was a week. At least you think it was a week. Time was hard to tell when you weren't able to move from your cell, which was dark, cramp, damp, and had no windows. They would tie you down and force an IV into you every few days, barley keeping you alive. A bucket in the corner was the only place to relieve yourself, and as the days went on, you started using your own pajamas as bandages for your major wounds. Two stab wounds, multiple cuts, and scrapes, your wounds weren't as terrible as you thought they would be. You knew you had the beginnings of a concussion, having seen similar symptoms in others before, but what worried you was the electric blue liquid they pumped into your veins. It made your veins burn, like a fire coursed through them. It kept you weak and dazed, and to your displeasure, they would pump it into you every other day. Of course, you were bothered by the pain of it, but your instincts only flooded to one thing. Protect. Protect the baby inside you and protect the man they could have grabbed instead. You figured they needed the baby in you to have a claim to the North, so they wouldn't hurt it. But your nutrients were dwindling, everything you had was being sucked up by the life growing in you. You wouldn't be able to fight back soon enough.

As time went on, they tortured you more. One sharp punch to the face and you think you had a black eye. You knew they were recording every time they strapped you to that chair. You only clung to the thought of Bucky one day coming through that door, ending the misery you were in. You clung to your family, your parents who always had the best intentions yet we're a little confused as to how to act upon it. Natasha, Wanda, Sam, even Tony, and Clint. Your brother, who was probably getting ready to fight all of Hydra by himself. And then, Bucky. Your Bucky. That's the thought that made you smile. How angelic he looked in the early morning, hair mused, body calm, peaceful. His giddy smile when you accepted the conch shell from him, you smiling back when you placed it on his desk. His dorky smile when Aurora and Rainecurled up against you one night by the fire. His groans as you tugged on his hair playfully. The charming smile you could see in the mirror as he learned how to braid your hair with the metal hand. Lounging and naming stars with your own goofy nicknames just to hear him laugh. Yeah, you thought. Him. You'd cling onto him. Your own Northern Star.

-

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[faunaflanaganarchive]

After Hours: Sauna

Who: Fauna Flanagan & Sawyer Hudson @sawyerhudson Where: Empty Classroom When: 19th August 2020 What: On day four of their week of scenes together Fauna finally gets to meet up with the infamous Mr Hudson and the two of them follow Erics suggestion for the final project. Content/Trigger Warnings: smut, choking

If there was one thing that Fauna had been hoping for, it was that Mr Hudson was going to make his debut this week and it was even better that she was getting to use this exciting moment as her importunity for extra credit. When she opened the door that morning and found the uniform she’d literally had to text Alexis to tell her she was going to die happy. She’d paired the uniform skirt with a white lace bra, knee socks, heels and matching cardigan and then headed up to the classroom he’d suggested. She knocked on the door and then slipped into the room. “Good afternoon Mr Hudson, I got your note, I understand you wanted to see me?” It had never been something Sawyer considered; a teacher/student roleplay, but seeing how excited Fauna was at the prospect really enticed him. After dropping off the note and the uniform, he went and got some props ready, heading to the empty classroom to set the scene. Wearing a button down shirt and tie, and a pair of reading glasses he knew Fauna went crazy for, he felt the part of Mr. Hudson already. He wrote his name on the chalkboard, and sat at the desk, an empty file in hand as he pretended to check through something, looking up when she entered the room. He took a moment to appreciate her in the uniform before beckoning her over. “Yes, Miss Flanagan, thank you for coming. I just wanted to discuss your grades on your last assignment. Take a seat.” He beckoned towards one of the desks in front of the teacher’s one. Fauna took her time eyeing up her boyfriend when she entered the room, he looked good, really good. He was wearing the reading glasses that he knew made her want to jump him, which was a cheeky touch. “I hope all of my work has been satisfactory Mr Hudson.” She said licking her lips. “I’ve worked ever so hard this term.” She promised, taking a seat in front of him and then unbuttoning the little top button on her cardigan so that he could see the top of the bra underneath. Although he noticed her unbutton the top of her shirt, he pretended to not acknowledge it, instead just got up and sat on the edge of the teacher's desk. "It's very satisfactory, Miss Flanagan. In fact, I was very impressed with your essay on Pride and Prejudice. I was just wondering if you had chosen a university yet?" He smiled. What he liked about this scene with Fauna, something they discussed a while ago, was that it wasn't the typical "naughty student gets punished" type of scene. He didn't want to punish her if she wasn't misbehaving, and preferred to reward her instead. Which exactly which this was about. Faunas eyes couldn’t help but brighten when he said he was impressed with her, she knew she hadn’t really written an essay but there was something about the idea of him appreciating her brain that just really appealed to her. “Thank you ever so much Mr Hudson I was really passionate about Darcy and Elizabeth’s love story so I wanted to do them justice in my essay. I’ve been considering a lot of options.. though UCLA has a program I’m very interested in.” The brunette responded, folding her hands in her lap. “Do you have any advice for me about colleges?” “And that you did,” Sawyer assured, heart swelling at how happy the compliment made her. “You know it’s one of my favourite books, but I knew it was yours as well.” He glanced around as if pretending to watch out for someone. “If this can be our little secret, Miss Flanagan, I actually only assigned the book because I knew how much you loved it. I guess I just wanted to impress my favourite student.” He nodded in faux seriousness at the talk of college. “UCLA is an excellent choice but I do believe you could and should aim higher. I know someone who works in the English department of Yale and they’ve told me a student like yourself is exactly what they’re looking for.” Fauna shifted a little when he looked around as if checking they were alone. “I’m your favourite student Sir?” She responded eyes wide with school girl wonder. “I’m so happy to hear that because you’ve always been my favourite teacher... there’s something so.. passionate about the way you engage with the books. When you read us Darcy it was like he came to life.” She told him biting her lip a little. “Yale? You really think I could get into Yale Mr Hudson?” She responded, blinking in disbelief. “But I’m just a submissive, surely they’d be looking for someone more qualified?” She asked as if she was truly stunned by the idea that he would think she was smart enough for something like that. The big innocent eyes almost did it for Sawyer, and he resisted the urge to drop all character and just have her right there and then on the desk. But alas, he just smiled, leaning back from where he was perched on the edge of the desk. “Of course you’re my favourite student,” He assured her, “you’re the only who ever gets the material. In fact, it’s you who inspires me to try as hard as I can.” He dripped his head slightly, a classic Sawyer Hudson blush on his cheeks when she complimented his Darcy. “Well, if you like, I could read a few passages to you now, I have a my copy with me.” He reached for the book and showed it to her. The talk of college felt strange to Sawyer, who burned out before he had a chance to give it a try but thought back to his own acceptance letter from Yale, knowing he couldn’t go for a myriad of reasons, but was at least getting to live through this fantasy now in a roundabout way. “I think Yale would be very lucky to have you despite your mark, Miss Flanagan. You’re brilliant in every way - intelligent, passionate, beautiful...” He trailed off with a laugh. “And I’d be more than happy to help you with your personal essay but the applications are due in very soon, so we may have to spend all night here alone, working closely together. Is that alright? Is it something you want?” Fauna nibbled on her bottom lip when he assured her that she was his favourite student, reaching up to play with a strand of her hair. She’d skipped the cliche pigtails and settled for loose waves around her shoulders. “It’s an honour to think that I could inspire you Mr Hudson.. you’re such an amazing teacher.. truly I felt lucky to even get to be in your class.” She insisted with the same school girl wonder, returning the blush that was on his cheeks when he suggested that he could read Darcy to her. “Oh please Sir... I really can’t think of anything I’d like more.” Fauna told him honestly, her flush deepening when he complimented her, ducking behind the curtain of hair momentarily. “Goodness thank you.. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken so highly of me Sir..” There was more truth to that than was usual for a scene, but it somehow added to the magic. “Mr Hudson if you’re willing to put in the time to me, then I will be here for every second of it. There is nothing to me more valuable than any time, or effort that you put into me.” His attention focused on her hair and an image of him pulling it back as he fucked her from behind flashed in his mind briefly. He instead shook it from his brain for now: all good things come to those who wait. “From the first day of class I knew you’d be such a special student for me, Fauna.” He promised her, flicking through the dog eared pages of his worn book to find the perfect passage. “I have faults enough, but they are not, I hope, of understanding,” He glanced up, eyes meeting hers, as he continued the passage, using the book only as a prop, knowing most of it off by heart by now. “My temper I dare not vouch for. It is, I believe, too little yielding— certainly too little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the follies and vices of other so soon as I ought, nor their offenses against myself.” He stood up from his desk, moving to rest against Fauna’s, his copy of the novel abandoned on the table. My feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called resentful. My good opinion once lost, is lost forever.” He finished the passage with a small bow, grinning. “Now, I am more than willing if you are to keep me company getting your application ready. First I need to know what you’re good at. Any specific skills?” He asked, though he was looking more at where the top of her bra was peeking through her unbuttoned shirt, lust clouding his brain. He said the first day of class, but Faunas mind was very briefly on the day that she'd first seen him waiting for her in his letterman jacket. Remembered the butterflies that had formed in her stomach, those same butterflies were there now. "I'd heard about you before I took your class Sir, then I saw you and I just.. I've never felt so connected to a teacher." She told him, unable to stop herself from looking at him with the kind of lovesick gaze that she usually saved for when he was lost in one of his novels or singing in the shower. Her heart felt as if it skipped a little as he began to quote Darcy to her. Her cheeks so red now that she figured it must almost be comical, she let out something akin to almost a moan when he put down the book and quoted by heart. God if he didn't fuck her soon she was going to have to pull him over the desk. "That was.. really something Mr Hudson." She responded, almost completely lost for words for once. Letting out a little breath she steadied herself. "Well Sir I've been told that I have excellent.. Oral skills, and that I'm very good under pressure." He had to look away from her as he quoted Darcy, knowing if she saw the stargazed look he’d abandon the literature and the scene all together. “Hmm, excellent oral skills is always needed.” He agreed with a cheeky grin, his hand resting on his leg right near his bulge, knowing it’d be in her line of sight from where she was sat. “I’ve been told to have excellent oral skills too, I could always give you some tips if you like?” Sawyer flashed his teeth at her. “What kind of pressure are we talking about here, Miss Flanagan?” He leaned forward as if he was really interested in his reply, faces inches apart. She followed his hand right to his cock, already imaging him fucking her right against the desk. Her eyes lit up further when he talked about his own oral skills, she was spoiled when it came to that kind of attention normally and she knew it. “I would love some tips Mr Hudson, especially from someone with such a silver tongue.” She responded innocently, fluttering her lashes again. “Well Sir I’ve been told that no matter how hard or how fast I’m pushed... I excel.” She responded, flicking her eyes from his lips back up again. Waiting for him to kiss her. He smirked when he realised she got the innuendo, biting his lip at her lash fluttering. “Hmm I bet you do excel indeed, no doubt about it.” He agreed automatically, too focused on how close together they were. Giving them a moment to just keep what was about to happen in the air, to tease her mainly but there was something erotic about the buildup, he leaned in closely, pressing a gentle kiss against her lips. “I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, Miss Flanagan, I know you’re my student but I simply couldn’t resist.” He murmured. It was like she could taste the tension between them, and she didn’t dare move a muscle until he pressed his lips against hers. In that moment she could almost believe that it was the first time they’d ever kissed. That she was sharing some kind of delicious stolen moment with him. “You’re not Mr Hudson... not at all..” She promised breathlessly. “I.. ive been thinking about kissing you since the first day that I saw you in the hallway.. I hope that’s not too inappropriate to say.” It felt like the right kind of wrong to be kissing Fauna just then, and Sawyer had to really remind himself that he wasn't actually a teacher, nor was she a student. They were boyfriend and girlfriend and it was a scene. He chuckled, his breath hot against her. "That's not inappropriate at all, in fact the things I've been wanting to do to you would be more inappropriate. I noticed the way you sometimes stretch your legs out in class when you're restless, and all I want to do is duck under that criminally short skirt of yours and just try a taste of you." He admitted, his hand resting on her thigh, rubbing it sensually. "Maybe it's time for those oral tips I suggested?" He quirked an eyebrow, the hand disappearing up the short material of the skirt, fingers dancing across the skin in teasing circles. She reached out and carefully ran her hand over his arm as if it were the first time she was ever touching him. “Goodness Mr Hudson. It’s like you could read my mind, because everytime you read to us I couldn’t stop looking at your lips... imaging kissing them and..” She looked down, at his hand with a little excited breath. “I would.. I would really like that Mr Hudson.” Fauna told him, thighs parting a little as his hand crept up them. “I promise to be a very attentive student.” He had already dropped the floor by the time she trailed off her sentence, watching with eager eyes as she parted her legs. “Attentive students are usually the best,” He assured her, positioning himself so he was crouched in between her legs. Fingers teasing her between her panties, he peppered kisses against her bare skin. “God, I haven’t tasted you properly yet and I already know you taste divine.” He groaned, feeling the wet patch on her underwear grow, before tugging them down in one swift movement. He looked up at her for permission, wanting her consent before he dived in. He may have been the Dominant, but this was Fauna’s fantasy, she was the one in charge here. She swallowed as he dropped to the floor, watching him closely. “I want to be the best.” She affirmed, trembling a little as he teased her through her panties. Voice faltering with his kisses. “Fuck..” She whimpered, and then looked embarrassed as if she’d never sworn in front of him before. “I’m terribly sorry Mr Hudson.” She told him,  then nodded as he looked up for her approval. “Please.” She said shyly parting her thighs a little wider for him. He affectionately rolled his eyes at her apology to the swearing, “I think this once, Miss Flanagan, I’ll allow it.” He murmured, grinning when she gave him permission. He ducked his head under her skirt , his tongue expertly licking through her folds, knowing exactly how to tease her now. He lapped up to her clit, giving the sensitive nub a few teasing flicks, his hands digging into her thighs, knowing there would be marks left for days. “Thank you Mr Hudson.” She told him gratefully ducking her head bashfully. The bashfulness didn’t last long though, not when his mouth was on her. Sawyer was the first guy to take his time with her like this, and she couldn’t help but let out a series of low whines as his tongue pushed against her folds. “Oh god Sir... that feels so good.” She squealed, cunt clenching a little as he dug his fingers in. Always enjoying a little pain with her pleasure. “Please...” Was the only coherent word she could choke out. There was something wonderful about rendering someone speechless by just the talent of your tongue, which was a profound thought to have, Sawyer decided, when you're in the middle of eating out your girlfriend during a teacher/student scene in an empty classroom. Nonetheless, her whines and broken-off sentences were the encouragement he needed to keep going, tongue swiling her clit, before travelling back through her folds, as he fingers scratched across the skin of her thighs. She was close, he could sense it, and he wanted to push her over the edge, to hear her cry out in bliss for him, because of him. She let herself simply be swallowed by the pleasure that he was giving her, between his tongue pressing against her clit and her folds and his fingers pushing against her hips she was almost drunk on pleasure. The little brunette felt the coil in her stomach, start to tighten to a degree that she could no longer hold it off and then with a moan of. “Oh Mr Hudson.” She fell over the edge, little hands digging into his shoulders as she did so. He'd never get bored of the way Fauna looked and sounded as she came, the smug part of himself knowing it was all because of him. He kept working over her with his mouth, lapping up the juices until her breathing stilled, hissing as her hands dug into his shoulder blades. "You taste exacly how I imagined," He hummed, moving back up from between her legs and shooting her a cheeky smirk. Shifting slightly to get more comfortable, he could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his pants. "I hope those oral skills can be useful to you, Miss Flanagan. Is there anything else you need?" He asked, suggestively raising a brow, his hands once again tracing the skin of her thighs, soothing the areas where he nipped at. "If not I have an idea in mind, regarding my teacher's desk..." Fauna took a minute to be able to say anything after coming down from her high, but then she remembered her role and sat up properly playing into the flush covering her cheeks. “Thank you.. so much for that oral lesson Sir, it was illuminating.” She responded, and then with shy hands she reached up and fully unbuttoned her cardigan so that she was just in the skirt and bra. “I think it’s very important that I have an all around learning experience... maybe you could fu-fill my education against your desk?” She suggested, pressing herself up against him as his hands rubbed against her thighs. “If you wanted to leave your mark on me.. I wouldn’t be opposed.” The brunette tried to tempt him, allowing her school girl persona to gain a little confidence. God, it was lucky that they both wanted the same thing, and it was close to happening, because Sawyer didn't know how long he could last with the way she flirted with him like this. "Well, the desks in the hallowed halls of Yale are much bigger than this so it'll be nice to give you a taste of what to expect." He promised, eyes glinting at the idea of marking her, watching her remove her little cardigan for him. He stood properly, scooping her up in one manouevre, her panties still around her ankles, thankful for his long legs that the journey from her desk to his was even shorter. He sat her on it, hurriedly shimmying his cock out of his pants and underwear, giving himself a stroke as he leaned in, kissing her messily, mouth moving down her jawline and neck, stopping just above the collarbone to nip and suck at the skin. The brunette nodded, keeping up her facade of girlish excitement which honestly wasn’t much of a facade. If she could have Sawyer fuck her in the hallowed halls of Yale she’d do it tomorrow. “Thank you Mr Hudson, your dedication to my education has been so admirable. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She praised, letting out a little excited squeak as he lifted her up. The little brunette pushed her hair out of her face a little and then wrapped her arms tight around his neck. “I know I shouldn’t Sir... but I want to be covered in your marks. I want to look at them and think of you, as Elizabeth Bennett once said ‘remembrance gives you pleasure.’” She quoted into his ear as he nipped at her skin, elated to just be this intimate with him at the moment. If it were another situation, quoting the book in his ear to turn him on would have had the added benefit of making him laugh, but he was so hyper-focused in the moment, her breath hot in his ear, her voice causing goosebumps, that he merely groaned. In one motion he managed to get the condom out of his pocket, rip it open and roll it down his length, hiking the short skirt up even further before pushing inside her with a groan. "You feel fucking amazing," He complimented, his mouth making contact with as much available skin as possible as he thrust into her, "The amount of times I've thought about fucking you just like this, every time you hand in an assignment, or even just walk by the classroom in that sinful little skirt...fuck." His groan was enough to make her moan too, one hand tracing over his back as he worked on her neck. She shifted a little as he fiddled with the condom, almost unwilling to wait before he slid inside her and she let her head fall back with the pleasure. “God you’re so big.” She complimented, rocking her hips back against him as he fucked her. “I’ve fantasised about it every day Sir, when I would see you reading in your office.. or when you’d hand back my work. I’d get so hot and bothered that I had to use my fingers when I got home.” She confessed, fingers tugging at his hair. The idea of Fauna thinking of him as she played with herself only encouraged him on, thrusting hard into her. The hand that wasn't holding her up against the desk snaked round to undo the bra, throwing it off with practiced ease, fingers taking time to fondle and twist the nipples that hardened in his hands. "Am I doing this in your fantasies? When you pretend your little slim fingers are my big cock?" He gasped out, shifting positions so he could hit her g-spot with each thrust. Him managing to get her bra off with so little trouble was something that probably shouldn’t have turned her on as much as it did. Letting out little mewls of pleasure as pulled at her nipples. “Yes Mr Hudson, in my fantasies you have me as many times as you like, wherever you like. Sometimes we have to be very quiet so you also have your hand around my throat.” He took the very obvious cue, hands going round her throat as he kept thrusting into her, giving a gentle squeeze to double check she was okay. "God, I imagine in that filthy little mind of yours we've fucked everything -- desk, my chair, even the teacher's lounge?" He prompted. "I bet in your fantasies I have to keep you on your knees under my desk, choking on my cock to keep you quiet, in case someone walks in when I'm doing paperwork?" The idea of that particular fantasy really did it for Sawyer and he kept it in mind for the next time Mr. Hudson came out to teach. "But I think this is my favourite, seeing you spread out and exposed for me on my desk, where anyone could walk in and see us." He panted out, taking a second between his thrusts to drink her all in. She was beautiful; hair a mess, skin flushed, her small breasts bouncing with each snap of the hips, his big hands around her slim throat only adding to the arousing vision. He went in harder, pulling their bodies closer together. "I'm so close," He groaned. Fauna moaned her consent, feeling herself clench around his cock as his hands went around her throat. She loved feeling just a little bit helpless as he fucked into her. “Everywhere.” She whimpered, it wasn’t even a lie, since she’d thought of him as Mr Hudson she’d not stopped thinking about all the ways she could be taken by her new favourite teacher. His own edition to her fantasy is so hot, and she lets out another slightly choked moan. “Thought about you making me give a presentation with a vibe in, trying not to let anyone know what you were doing to me while I try to present.” She added, looking at him now gazing down at her from behind his reading glasses was a sight she wouldn’t soon forget. Sawyer always looked at her like she was the sexiest person person in the world, and the confidence it gave her was sexy in its own right. “I don’t care who sees us.” She choked out. “Everyone should know that I’m a teachers pet.” The brunette couldn’t help crack a small smile at her own joke, though it was quickly followed by another moan. “Me too Sir.. I’m going to cum.” "Fuck, that's good, I'd purposefully set your assignment as something you find arousing, like Byronic heroes for instance." He approved of her fantasy, and already knew exactly how to tease her and wind her up in the future. Her disregard for anyone who walked in on them was the sexiest thing Sawyer witnessed, but he couldn't help the hand around her throat tighten a little. "I think we should try and keep you quiet, as amazing as you probably sound when you cum, crying out my name." He panted, his thrusts turning slopping, the coil low in his belly indiciating he was near the edge. "Fuck, come with me. Now." He ordered as his orgasm ripped through him, hips spasming, biting down on her neck as he did so, right over the mark he gave her from yesterday's scene. "Oh god, fuck." He panted out against her collar bone, planting a gentle soothing kiss to her skin. "I'd do my best to keep it together for you Sir, but.." Fauna had to trail off because of the way that he was fucking her, finally speechless for once.  This fantasy had been even more exciting than she thought it would be already. And she let out a little choked breath as he tightened his hand around her throat, he looked so powerful with his hand around her throat. She nodded a little as he told her he wanted her to keep quiet, something about that request only making her cunt clench tighter around him. She was so grateful when he ordered her to cum, and as she let the coil go and he bit down on her neck she was overwhelmed by the most powerful orgasm she'd experienced in a while. Falling into his arms completely spent. He hissed from the oversensitve feeling of her cunt clenching around his cock as she came, but helped ride out her orgasm, thrusts messy and lacking rhythm, until they slowed. His arms tightened around her as she all but collapsed in his arms, chuckling at the state the two of them must have been in. He planted a kiss to her forehead. "I hope my office hours were helpful, Miss Flanagan." Sawyer said, with a cheeky smile. "I have a perfect suggestion for us. Why don't we head back to my suite for a shower and some food and then I can walk you back to your dorm?" She couldn't speak for a moment, just huddled against his chest as she calmed her breathing and recovered. "Thank you Mr Hudson.. I certainly feel like you drove home the knowledge that you've been teaching me all year." She joked, leaning to pres her face into his neck. "I'd like that a lot Sir.. I'm not sure I could walk right now even if you wanted me to." She added with a smile.

#(( the great sauna scene week )) #gleedsmfinalproject #(( day four ))

[bakingthedetectives]

Chocolate Doughnuts For Lockwood And Co

'George had returned, carrying the tray on which he'd assembled a tea service I'd never before set eyes on. It was all fine-bone china and little pink flowers, the kind of mincing cups that are so delicate and brittle you expect them to shatter when you put them to your lips. This classy effect was slightly undermined by a teetering pile of fat jam doughnuts on a plate beside them'.

When I was young I had horrifying dreams on an almost nightly basis. When I look back they were all silly things, like the moon coming down from the sky to lurk outside my window. It seems ridiculous now but when you're 5 the moon being able to move really unsettles you. (Actually, I don't think we should just confine the fear of the moon moving towards us to when we're young, it really shouldn't be moving in that way at all, whatever age you are). Eventually I was taken to a doctor who said I was making it up, so we went to another doctor, and he told me to stop watching scary television shows, films, or reading scary books. I was 8 at this point...where was I getting access to scary films!? I wasn't, I wasn't involved in any frightening activity at all, apart from going to school but that isn't marketed as a scary activity. It is though. 

So anyway, the nightmare continued. I avoided all horror, shut myself away and suffered with insomnia for all of my early teens. Would you believe I accidentally watched The Wicker Man? Well, I did. I was at a sleepover at it happened to be on (by which I mean a small select group decided to wait until everyone else was asleep to gather round the tv. I wasn't one of those, but I was pretending to be asleep and watching it on my side). I loved it. I was obsessed with it. The psychology of it. The tragedy of it. And just like that the nightmares stopped. As it turns out...well, to quote Sherlock 'Your mind, it's so placid. Straightforward. Barely used.' Because I wasn't stimulating my imagination enough my brain decided to take over and all the little horrors came out at night. I wouldn't say I was the world's biggest horror fan, but a small dose of it now and again is enough to keep me sane! And this is the brilliant thing about the Lockwood and Co series. It is genuinely scary. The series falls into the 'young adult' category, but everyone would enjoy this. The difficult themes are dealt with honesty and wit. Children want honest stories, real people, and all of the characters are crafted so well you can really believe you're following a ghost-hunting agency in an alternative London. Lucy is clever and brave, George is a mother hen, and Lockwood is indeed dashing and scatty (it says so in the back of the book, but it's very true).

Finding a book that hands me everything I'm looking for on a plate brings me the greatest joy. 15 pages in comes the first mention of tea, soon after we've blossomed onto tea and biscuits. There's eggs and bacon and toast and cornflakes. There's jam sandwiches and ginger ale. And then there's the doughnuts.If you're going to be out battling ghosts all night I'd say doughnuts were the right amount of fortification needed the following morning. I was initially going to make blackberry and custard doughnuts, but as I was reading George decided to throw me off by talking about chocolate doughnuts. It's so rare that I make something specifically mentioned by the characters I felt I really must make more of an effort here. I went through chocolate dough, chocolate brownie mix, chocolate coatings, and then settled on an easy chocolate custard to go inside for a pure chocolate hit. They're thick and stodgy and I'm sure Lucy would say that rather describes George too. At the back of the book there's descriptions of all the different ghost entities. I think if I could be any I'd be a Gibbering Mist, they sound hilarious! What would you be? The only bread I am any good at baking is brioche. Anything with mounds of butter is a winner for me, so I've adapted my brioche loaf recipe to make doughnuts. I'm as surprised as you are that it worked! For the doughnuts: 375g strong white bread flour, or '00' grade flour 140ml warm water 45g caster sugar 7g dried yeast 3 large eggs 1/2 tsp vanilla extract pinch of sea salt 100g butter, softened Some caster sugar for rolling the doughnuts in cacao nibs (optional) for rolling the doughnuts in about 2l sunflower oil For the chocolate custard filling: 375ml milk 1 tsp vanilla extract/pure vanilla bean paste 110g mix of milk and dark chocolate1 tbsp cocoa powder 4 large egg yolks 200g caster sugar 60g plain flour ​1 tbsp cocoa powder 75ml double cream You will need a food thermometer, a heavy based saucepan and a piping bag. Put the warm water into a mixing bowl with all of the doughnut ingredients except for the butter. Mix for around 10 minutes in a mixer with a paddle beater (you can do this by hand but it'll take some welly). The dough will start to come away from the sides and look almost creamy smooth. Let the dough rest while you tear up pieces of butter. The butter should be soft enough for you to tear pieces off with your hands, but not so soft that it's melting and greasy. Start the mixer again on a medium speed and slowly add pieces of the butter and keep mixing until it's all been added. Mix on a high speed for around 5 minutes just to give the dough a good talking to. It should now be smooth and glossy. Cover the bowl with clingfilm and leave it to prove until it has doubled in size. Don't put it somewhere warm, just leave it where it is. It may take a while, mine actually never rises but I carry on regardless and it always works. Once it has proved, prod it a bit to knock it back, then put it in the fridge to chill overnight.   The next day, take out the dough and roll it into even sized pieces. I usually get around 16 at 45g each. Put them on floured baking trays, leaving plenty of space between them. Cover loosely with cling film and leave for around 4 hours to prove, or until doubled in size. Heat the oil in a fryer or heavy based saucepan, it should come to about halfway up the sides. Heat it to 180C. When the oil is heated and steady at that temperature, carefully slide in the dough balls, a few at a time. Fry for around 2 minutes on each side. Remove from the fryer and place them onto kitchen paper to drain. Carefully repeat the process until all of the dough has been used, then toss the doughnuts in sugar. Leave them to cool fully. Chop the chocolate into small pieces. In a large saucepan, heat the milk, vanilla, and milk powder on a medium-low heat. When it is steaming remove from the heat and add the chocolate. Leave it for a while to melt then use a whisk to stir it around. Put it back on the heat to warm through and thicken up, about 5 minutes. Leave to cool fully and thicken. To make the custard, heat the milk and vanilla in a saucepan on a medium heat until it comes to a gentle boil. Remove from the heat. Lightly whisk the egg yolks and sugar together, then sift in the flour and cocoa and mix well. Whisk some of the hot milk into the egg mixture and mix it all in, then slowly add more and more while whisking until it all comes together. Add the chocolate and stir together to melt it a bit. Put this all back on the heat and whisk until thick, about 5 minutes. If you feel the need you can pass it through a sieve to ensure there's no lumps but I've never bothered. Put it into a bowl or onto a lined tray and press the top with clingfilm to stop a skin forming and leave to cool fully. Whip the cream it to soft peaks and fold this through the custard and chill again to set it. When ready, fill a piping bag with the custard and pipe into the doughnuts by putting a small hole into the the pale ring round the centre. Pipe until the doughnuts feel full and provide resistance against the bag. Repeat with the remaining doughnuts and serve. These are best eaten on the day they are made, although if you wanted to keep them put the custard  in the fridge and keep the doughnuts in an airtight container, then fill them as you want to eat them.

Next time on Baking The Detectives...

'I've never done gardening. I don't know, what is gardening?' Braving some herring for Knut Angstrom. Use the social sharing buttons below to send this to the Detectives in your life.

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