#aaaand there goes my own sleep... x-x

[pixelatedraindrops]

Okay stop. This broke my heart.

I had to make a happy ending for him...

I like to think everyone in the city cares about him... ;-;

Before he leaves Kanai Ward, Yuma tells the ramen chef/former trainee to bring Makoto something warm to eat the next day after his speech. (he could tell he was worn out) This was his final favor to Number One.

It's time for some warm special ramen.

The new comfort food of Kanai Ward <3

Confrontation.

i originally wanted to make it more of a polished doodle comic but . if i did it wouldnt see the light of day ! here's a mini panel of makotos unfortunate aftermath 😞💔

[tmntfixationxreader]

"Hello author! I've read some of your other works and I thought they were great, so I have a request for you.

Would you be willing to write a Rise Raph x reader where they're having a sleepover? Raph is nervous about wearing his retainer around them but doesn't realize that the reader also has a retainer until they put theirs on, fluff ensues.❤️🙏🙏🙏"

Sure thing! Thanks for the request :)

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

♡Self conscious sleepover♡

~During a sleepover, Raph gets worried about wearing his retainer~

Warnings: None, just fluff :)

Word count: 933

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

You had just had an amazing, long night with the gang.

Raph had invited you over for a sleepover, so you could hang out with him and his brothers, watch movies, play games, and chill.

It was getting late now though, even for them. Mikey was already passed out on the couch you all had been watching movies on. Leo was sitting in front of the couch watching Jupiter Jim intently, and Donnie was typing something on his wrist watch, as he was ‘definitely too busy to watch the Atomic Lass special’.

Raph yawned once, displaying his fang and teeth before stretching his back as he sat forward. He noticed how sleepy you were looking, and decided it was probably time for the two of you to head to bed.

“Y/n, you ready to head to Raphs’ room?” Raph asked, looking sleepy himself.

You yawned as well and nodded. “Yeah, probably…”

Raph nodded, definitely ready for bed; But he was the older brother, and had to make sure his younger siblings would go to bed too.

“Leo, last movie. Seriously, you won’t get any sleep. Same for you too Donnie, and no lab work past midnight.”

“Yes yes dear brother, I know the rules,” Donnie said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand before typing more stuff onto his wrist watch.

“Don’t worry Hermanos, I’ll make sure Don Tron goes to bed…. Aaaand I won’t stay up past midnight either…” Leo said, giving Raph a smile before turning his attention fully back to the screen.

Raph sighed, content with their answer. “You two will sleep… Trust me, I’ll know if you didn’t.” He tucked Mikey in with a blanket before getting up from the couch.

“Ready Y/n?”

You nodded happily and sleepily, telling the twins goodnight before getting up from the couch yourself.

Raph’s bedroom was nice. It was large, decently organized, and decorated with a few scattered posters. You noticed the small (some larger) scratch marks on the walls from his spikes. He had a large bed, big enough for the two of you to sleep on. Actually, you guessed that it was a king sized bed and a twin mattress pushed together to make one large bed.

“I like your room,” You smiled, setting your bag down. You had already gotten changed into your pj's, brushed your teeth and hair, ready for bed. One last thing was needed, though, to complete your routine. You squatted down next to your bag, digging through its contents to find your retainer.

“Thanks,” Raph smiled, and sat down on his bed, having already finished his nightly routine… But, he needed his retainer, too. It was sitting on his mostly bare nightstand, next to a small lamp. He didn’t keep much on it, more than once he had knocked the contents off during the night.

He was nervous to get it out, looking over at it more than once as the two of you talked.

“It kind of reminds me of my own room… I especially like your squishmallows collection,” You smiled at him over your shoulder, still digging around in your bed.

Raph smiled a toothy smile. “Thanks! I like to collect them… Kind of hard to do that without spending a lot of money, though… Most of them are ones my brothers have given me over the years”

You nodded. “Cool! Seems like your brothers knew just what to get you then.”

Raph looked over at the small box on his nightstand. He was nervous about wearing it in front of you. He had only ever worn it in front of his brothers, and he was worried of what you would think of it… Especially because it was shaped around his fang and looked a little strange.

Finally your fingers found the container your retainer was kept in.

You pulled it out of your bag, opening the small plastic container with a click

Raph blinked. “You… Wear a retainer?” He asked as you put it on, fitting it inside your mouth.

After a short moment of muscle memory, you closed the container and put it back in your bag with a nod and a smile. “Yep, I wear a retainer.”

You glanced at Raph to see his reaction, and was pleasantly surprised when Raph’s face lit up into a smile.

“Really? I wear one too!” He said, grabbing his container from his nightstand. “Raph was a little nervous about wearing it in front of you…”

You raised your eyebrows. “Nervous? Why?” You smiled. “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Raph nodded, feeling a little better. “I don’t know… I was just self conscious.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be! I would never make fun of you for it or anything, even if I didn’t wear one myself.”

Raph smiles, and you zip up your bag. He opened the small plastic container, putting the plastic retainer over his teeth.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, clearly relieved.

“Thanks Y/n,” He smiled, and scooted so you could take half of the bed. You sat down next to him with a smile, patting his shoulder.

“No problem… Seriously, don’t stress about it…. No one should ever make fun of you for it,” You say, laying down next to him on your half of the bed, pulling the blankets up over yourself. It was getting really late, and you could immediately tell how tired you were.

Raph smiled and nodded, pulling the gigantic blanket over half of himself too.

“Good to know…Thanks,” He said, sleepiness settling into his eyes and muscles.

“Anytime Raphie…”

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

Hope you like it! I'm really busy working on some personal and long requests, so I took a break to do some shorter ones :)

Bye bye butterflies!

[sleepy-sirin]

Incarnation (Honkai Star Rail x Child! Herrscher! Reader)

Summary: In which Y/n, the creation of Will of Honkai, successfully defeated her own creator with the help of her friends. After defeating the Will of Honkai, for using too much of her power she goes into a deep sleep.

Previous | Next chapter

Chapter 5

Y/n's POV:

"Ah! Ahhhh! What the heck!"

I was disturbingly woken up by someone who let out a terrified scream outside my door. I stretch out my body, get off the bed, and left the room to meet up with the trio.

"Good morning, Y/n!" March greeted me

"Morning..." I let out a yawn.

"Hey. Did you hear that?" March asked.

"There's a group of Silvermane Guards at the entrance... and I don't think they're here to say hi." Dan Heng said.

"If this our escort, it's less friendly than I was expecting." March said.

"You guys are assuming a lot. All I can see is their helmets." Stelle said.

"...I just have a feeling." March said.

"Let's go and meet them. We won't know until we're down there." Dan Heng said.

All of us went outside the Goethe Hotel to meet up the Silvermane Guards. One of Silvermane Guards approached us.

"Hey! Commander Bronya is waiting for you all down below. Hurry up and go see her. And no tricks!" A stern Silvermane Guard said.

"Are we... in a lot of trouble?" March asked.

The guard didn't reply then said to hurry up to meet up Commander Bronya. As we went down, we saw Bronya waiting for us and she was with someone we don't know.

"Huh? It's you... you were there at the Fort..." March said.

"I am Bronya Rand, acting commander of the Silvermane Guards. In the name of the Amber Lord in the highest, and under order of Supreme Guardian Cocolia Rand, I hereby arrest the suspected infiltrators under of plotting to incite rebellion." Bronya said.

'Huh, so her last name isn't Zaychik then.' I thought.

"As agent of the supreme guardian, I herewith temporarily strip you of your freedom of action and speech. When you are tried by the adjudication panel, you will be given the opportunity to defend yourself against the accusations." She said.

"Resistance will prove futile. You must come with me."

"W-Wait a minute! This isn't what we agreed! She said we were gonna be escorted to discuss an urgent matter!" March said.

"...This is an orchastrated betrayal, obviously." Dan Heng said.

"I told you to keep your guard on. Well you didn't listen to me. I knew that woman was a lying snake in every different worlds." I said.

"Looks like we've been downgraded to accomplices... again. Seem like it's every third planet this happens." March said.

"That's because you always act without thinking, you never have a plan." Dan Heng said.

"Hey, I'm improving! I'm coming up with a plan right now... aaaand... got one!" March said.

"Stelle, Y/n, Dan Heng, the alley!" She whispered.

"The one that's been sealed off... Hmm, it's possible. Y/n, Stelle, March, be ready to make an escape." Dan Heng said.

"Huh? Really? I just wanted to say something..." March said.

"It's now or never!" Stelle said.

"Three of a kind..." Dan Heng said.

"I guess we are a strange quadruplets..." Stelle said.

"Shh! It's an old Astral Express escape signal. Do you play cards?" March asked Stelle.

"Two pair..." Dan Heng said.

"Hey, what are you whispering? Let's get going!" A Silvermane Guard said.

"Ace!"

Dan Heng grabbed me and March, Stelle smacked the Silvermane Guard using her bat. Dan Heng summons his spear as he trips the Silvermane Guards feet's making them fall. All of us run to the alley to our escape. Some of the guards were about to shoot us with their guns but it was jammed with ice in it.

"Have an "ice" day!" March playfully said. As  the four of us run through the portal.

"Hah! See, they weren't brave enough to follow us! Freedom! Serves them right! Better luck next time, slowpokes!" March said.

"We got lucky." Stelle said.

"Well, you can get good at getting lucky~" March said.

"We caught them by surprise, nothing more. They'll be in persuit soon enough. Let's follow the path. We need to guarantee out own safety before making any further plans." March said.

The four of us find a way to leave the Fragmentum, we came across Silvermane Guards behind the gate.

"Wait! There are Silvermane Guards here. Careful not to alert them!" March said.

"They must have entered from another direction to cut us off. We should avoid an open conflict. Let's find another path." Dan Heng said.

All of us tried to find a different path away from the Silvermane Guards. We tried to open the mechanism to open the gates. As we found a portal, we ran as fast as we can.

"Look out!" Dan Heng said.

We all stopped running and looked around to see all of the Silvermane Guards surrounded us.

"She really caught up with us... Even had time to set up an ambush..." March said.

"Hmph, you dare underestimate me?" Bronya said, as she was behind us.

"Even though it has suffered Fragmentum corrosion, this is still part of Belobog. It was our home. The Guards know this place like the back of their hand." She said.

"Enough cat and mouse, drop your weapons and come with me."

"Ugh, you're such a nuisance! Just what crime are we supposed to have committed again? It better be worth you following us all the way out here!" March is done with Bronya's bs.

"My orders are to arrest you. It is for the adjudication panel to present you with the nature and penalty of your alleged crimes." Bronya said.

"You saw us yesterday, do you remember? Madam Cocolia received us as honored guest. How can such a drastic change occurred in the course of one night?" Dan Heng said.

"...The Madam Guardian investigated your backgrounds. She summoned me last night to tell me that you had deceived her. Your identities and purpose here are counterfeit. You seek to overthrow the rule of the Architects." Bronya said.

"Ah! What a two-faced hag!" March said.

"That Cocolia is... What do you humans say it... Ah, a bitch." I nonchalantly said.

The trio looks at you with surprised expressions, they didn't expect that you would swear.

"Publicly insulting the supreme guardian only elevates the seriousness of your crimes. Throw down your arms and surrender!" Bronya said.

"We're wasting our words, March. At least one thing is clear. We mustn't be caught." Dan Heng said.

"Well, if there's no escape, then maybe it's time we gave them a taste of Astral Express medicine!" March said.

Taglist: @starxao

[ahundredtimesover]

Fight for You Epilogue (12)

​12: Finale part 2: What happens when you learn to give love

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: established relationship - FFY couple; fluff, smut (18+)

Warnings: Adorable babies and cute family moments 🥺 talks of parenting, mentions of past child neglect, sexual content (making out, breast play, unprotective penetrative sex [please be safe!])

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: Aaaand this wraps up our FFY couple’s fairytale! I know it was a quick one that spanned many years in the story but I had to get these out and I’m really appreciative of all your support for this. It was lovely to write - especially this last one, which is a peek into their family life - and I’ve become so attached to them 😢 Here’s to the healing of all our scars and to being brave to give and accept love. 🥰🥰 Also, thank you to the anon who imagined dad jk in the grocery! Got a bit of that in here 😊

And finally, thank you to Ash @jimilter​​ for this banner and for always being so lovely 🥰

Epilogue Series Masterlist || Previous || End

##

Jungkook stands helplessly as he watches his 2-year old son run around his bedroom on the hobby horse with his cowboy hat, the stick he’s riding seemingly not bothering him even if Jungkook always felt it was too long. 

“Hee-ya!” He says in his tiny voice, kicking the stick with the side of his foot, and much as Jungkook wants to coo and tell his son how adorable he is, he’s trying to be firm.

“Ji-hun, come on, it’s time for bed,” Jungkook says, blocking his son’s way as he goes for another round, but the little one goes another direction, having so much space in his own room.

“If you keep running, you’ll sweat and you might get sick, and mommy and daddy don’t like it when you get sick,” Jungkook says, sighing in desperation, as they've been on this for 30 minutes now. 

But it’s what gets Ji-hun to stop, and he looks up at his dad with sad eyes and a pout, sullenly removing his hat and placing the horse stick toy on the side. 

Jungkook picks him up and kisses his forehead. “There you go, my little prince. Let’s get you to sleep.”

As he’s about to place the little one on the bed, Ji-hun raises his arms. “Weee! Daddy, weee!”

Jungkook grumbles as he knows what his son wants, asking this of him every time he’s in his father’s arms. 

“You get so hyper when I do that. You won’t be able to sleep.”

The 2-year old doesn’t really understand, but he knows his father’s unhappy face, so he pouts again.

The two go through this almost every night, and it’s often a cycle of telling Ji-hun to sleep but the latter doing a bunch of other things before he settles in bed, and Jungkook - even if he resists at the start - gives in. He throws the little one up twice, causing Ji-hun to squeal and laugh, and it’s a sound Jungkook will never tire of hearing.

Ji-hun is finally tucked under the covers, smiling now, and Jungkook chuckles. “You’re like your mommy, you know that? Pouting to get away with everything and to get what you want.”

“Is that a complaint?” You ask playfully, prompting Jungkook to turn around to find you leaning on the door, laughing. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who lets me get away with things and gives me what I want when I pout.”

“It’s because you’re too good at it, and this little prince is getting good at it, too,” Jungkook says.

“It’s because you’re weak for us, babe,” you tease, kneeling beside him.

“Go to sleep now, jellybean. Sweet dreams. I love you,” you kiss your son’s forehead, with Jungkook doing the same after, whispering “I love you” in his son’s ears.

Ji-hun smiles, squeals “I wuv you, mommy and daddy,” then closes his eyes, and it’s one of those moments that Jungkook treasures and thinks about all the time, especially when he’s tired or upset at work. 

You take his hand and walk out quietly.

“Seriously, our son is deceitful. He tricked us by barely crying when he was born and now he won’t keep still,” Jungkook whines. “I don’t know how many rounds of ‘go to bed’ we’ll have every night before he actually goes to bed.”

“Maybe just like his spoiled mom, he likes to annoy you, too,” you cock an eyebrow, stopping in the middle of the hallway to give him a hug.

He wraps his arms around your waist and laughs. “I mean it though, he takes after you so much.”

“He does, it’s pretty amazing. I think it was all the times I cried and whined and pouted and couldn’t keep still when I was pregnant with him,” you say, recalling that whole 9-month period of you going over all the emotions expected of a first-time pregnancy.

It wasn’t easy. Conceiving Ji-hun wasn’t easy to begin with, and the frustration and worry carried over to when he finally came out of you. 

Your mood swings and cravings were pretty intense, but Jungkook, as he promised you during the times you were most scared, held your hand through it all, cradled you to sleep, gave you baths, drove to the convenience store, and cooked up something in the middle of the night to satisfy your needs and wants. He never complained, too, as he’d caress your cheeks and kiss you softly when you cried, reminding you of how strong you are and how beautiful the little human you were carrying was.

“Yup, and now, whining and pouting is all he does,” Jungkook chuckles. “But you’re right. I’m so weak for him. It’s not fair.”

“He’s our child, babe. It’s normal,” you kiss his lips. “Now let’s go to bed, we’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Is Hyun-joo asleep?”

“Yeah, cried and sucked me dry before she did, though,” you laugh. “Kinda like you.”

Jungkook scowls, earning him a laugh, but he heads to the nursery and you know, like every night, he wants to look at his daughter one last time.

You swoon at him smiling tenderly at the little girl you gave birth to just 6 months ago. You hadn’t planned on having her so soon, but the news felt different that time when it wasn’t something you were expecting. But she came out perfectly, and Ji-hun was the curious older brother who was so amused at the tiny human you always held. 

“Sleep well, my little princess,” Jungkook whispers, grazing her plump little cheeks with his finger. 

He always enjoys doing this, watching his daughter sleep so peacefully, her tiny body wrapped in a blanket and looking so delicate and perfect.

“Good night, pumpkin. Please sleep until 6AM, at least,” you plead.

Jungkook giggles and leads you out to head to your bedroom. “I wonder what food you’ll crave that you’ll name our next baby after.”

“Muffin? Pudding? Dumpling? Depends on how good you make them. Your pumpkin soup was to die for, babe.”

“I mean, I had to make them everyday for weeks, of course I’d perfect it,” he reminds you, saying he wanted to be the one to do it instead of Mrs. Hwang so he could share in the responsibility of the pregnancy. “But none of what you said is easy to make so let’s go with something similar to jellybean or you know, fruits!” He teases.

You get a laugh in, as what you both need. 

Your evenings really begin once the kids are asleep. Despite having your own home offices, during times like this, you and Jungkook prefer to do your work next to each other either on your bed or your couch. 

“I miss fucking then going straight to bed after a long day,” you sigh as you type away on your laptop. 

“So do I,” Jungkook looks up at you from his. “We could get a round in after?”

You smile in agreement, knowing that his amazing stamina always allows him to have enough energy for it every night; it’s you who gets tired so easily or falls asleep right away, but he never points it out.

It’s 3 hours later when you finally turn off your laptop and lie in bed, next to Jungkook and his bare chest that you just want to snuggle and kiss. But you’re exhausted from the whole week and your body is sore from trying to make a perpetually restless Ji-hun eat his dinner, and from breastfeeding Hyun-joo who still feeds so much off you that it’s draining. You look up at your husband with a pout and he cups your cheek as he laughs.

“It’s okay, angel, come here.” He pulls you close and cuddles you how you want, kissing your forehead and caressing the thigh that’s placed over his. “I’m tired, too. We can always do it another time.”

**

Jungkook looks up, scouring for the brand of almond flour he needs, parting some of the boxes to check the depths of the shelf in case he missed it.

“Do you need some help?” An unfamiliar yet perky and high-pitched voice calls out.

Jungkook turns to see a young woman wearing gym attire. She’s not a clerk so he’s unsure how she could assist him.

She seems to pick this up from his furrowed eyebrows and confused look, as she continues, “I work at a bakery, I might know what you’re looking for.”

“I’m alright, thanks,” he nods then turns to Hyun-joo who’s currently strapped on the carrier he’s wearing, facing him.

“Okay, princess. They don’t have the brand I like, so I’ll just go with this one,” he says, taking one of the boxes, ready to head out.

“Your baby is beautiful. She’s got such pretty eyes and a cute nose,” the woman giggles.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way she eyes him as she says it, the lip-biting and hair-tucking giving her away.

“She is, isn’t she? She takes after my wife, actually,” he smiles, patting Hyun-joo’s cute little head.

“Let’s go look for mommy,” he tells his daughter, not bothering to glance at the woman, though he hears her sigh and turn away.

He sees you at the end of the aisle pushing the cart with Mrs. Hwang, giggling to each other as he approaches.

“Are you two gossiping about me?” Jungkook cocks his eyebrow.

“Yes, we are, sweetie,” Mrs. Hwang says. “It’s entertaining to watch strangers approach you and then walk away defeated. Your charms are truly unmatched,” she laughs.

“I can’t believe I snagged you before the rest of the female population did,” you tease. 

“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes. “She looked so young, probably in her early twenties or something.”

“You don’t look that far from that age, babe. But like I’ve told you, it’s the dilf look,” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes in response.

Jungkook’s boyish features have always made him look younger than he really is, but all the changes have added to that youthful vibe, too. Jin told you once that his friend has this glow - Jungkook smiles a lot more, looks less intimidating when he doesn’t, and he just has this relaxed aura, a complete 180 to how he used to be. And you can’t agree more.

He’s still just as handsome, though, or even more, as you seem to rub off on his wardrobe choice, looking less like a man ready to fight anyone and more like a responsible and loving husband and father. The navy blue collarless blazer over his plain tee and sweatpants - and maybe your daughter strapped to his front - definitely help, though, as he looks mature yet youthful. It’s no wonder he gets as much attention as he does.

“Okay, I think we have everything we need for the next 2 weeks,” Mrs. Hwang informs you, and you all proceed to the counter to check out all the groceries.

It’s one of the things you insisted on after Ji-hun started to get older. There are things you want to do as a family, even if you don't really need to, like do the groceries, go to the park, and visit flea markets. Jungkook said that’s more exposure for your family, but you’d said you wanted your kids to experience things beyond your own house, something you got to do very little of when you were younger.

You’re on your way out when Ji-hun, who’s currently comfortably wrapped around your hips, squeals in excitement.

“Star! Mommy, I want star!” 

He points towards a kiosk selling dalgona, with the shapes of the sugar candy out on display. You’re about to head to the vendor, giddy at the thought of eating it, as you only ever did when you were with Hoseok and Yoongi when you were young.

But Jungkook’s “not for you, little prince” stops you.

You turn to your husband with a pout. “Just one? He seems to like the star-shaped piece.”

“___, that’s literally sugar and oil. That’s too sweet for him.”

“What yummy things aren't made of sugar and oil?” You retort. “I’ll give him small pieces, then. I’ll buy it for myself.”

“He’ll try to take it from you and then he’ll flutter his eyelashes and pout and you’ll give it to him!”

You frown but don’t take it too hard; you know your husband’s right.

“Mommy! Star! Pwease I want star!”

You sigh and know you need to let your son down today, but Jungkook repeats his earlier statement and Ji-hun’s lips start to quiver.

Jungkook’s used to this, too, as your son seems to run on an endless supply of sugar, which is why you and Jungkook try to limit his actual intake. Ji-hun is always running around, falling on his butt, hitting things, jumping on tables, and screaming while doing all those. It’s normal for his age, you remind Jungkook, but he tends to be a little too cautious sometimes. It’s the middle of the day and Ji-hun’s already had his butter cookies earlier after breakfast; Jungkook thinks that’s enough sweets for today.

“Come here,” he says, switching kids with you, leaving a now sleepy Hyun-joo in your arms.

He hugs your son as you all enter the van. “We’ll get your star tomorrow, okay?”

Ji-hun just nods, sniffing as he feels he’s been scolded by his father, given the multiple times that Jungkook said “no.”

Jungkook looks stressed as he massages his son’s back, feeling bad at having to keep turning him down.

“He’ll be fine, babe,” you take your husband’s hand. “Don’t think too much about it. We still have that interview with the bodyguard and chauffeur applicants. Let’s focus on that,” you remind him. “Just don’t scare them like you did the last time, okay?”

He frowns at your statement.

“I didn’t scare them. I was assessing them. It's normal. It’s what your father did with me.”

“I know for a fact that my father at least smiled at you that day. You don’t. Ever.”

“They need to know who they’re dealing with if they screw up at the job,” Jungkook says.

“They went through your training academy. I’m sure they’re great. It’s the personality we’re looking at, remember? That’s what you said.”

“Yeah, but…” Jungkook sighs, not knowing what else to say. “Let’s just head home and prepare.”

**

The applicants were good, as were the last times you did interviews but Jungkook was never satisfied. You’re not quite sure what he’s looking for, but you let him take the lead, as he definitely knows more than you do. 

You both decided to assign Mr. Sim and Namjoon to your kids as the people you trust with your children’s lives, so those applying are for you. Jungkook has been stressing himself about it lately; it seems like a lot of things have.

It’s late in the night, after you’ve put the kids to bed and you had your bath that you find him in his office, reading documents with his serious face on.

“What you doing, babe?” You enter and lean on his desk.

“Going over some more applicants,” he says, pushing aside a stack of papers and looking up at you. “They don’t seem to be a good fit for you.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not in a rush, right?” You smile.

“I’m on a timeline, Ms. Vice President,” he says.

“So that’s why you’re nitpicking? Because my father told you that he’ll be promoting me and that’s gonna make me more vulnerable?”

“I’m not nitpicking,” he furrows his brows. “I just… I just wanna make sure that whoever we’ll get will do their job right and will protect you because I won’t be able to do that as much, especially with your new role.”

“Okay, first of all, that promotion isn’t until at least a year from now, so we’ve got time. And secondly, whoever we’ll get will do their job as instructed and you, my wonderful husband, will do all the loving and caring for me. The protecting aspect is integrated in the whole husband thing, I guess, but it’s not a separate role.”

He laughs, knowing you have a point.

“I really liked the woman from last week,” you say. “She’s smart and such a bad-ass. Scarier than you, actually. Less obvious, too, since she could easily blend in as my friend.”

“Makes sense. I’ll look more into her.”

“Okay, great! But again, no rush. We don’t need to do reassignments yet since Ji-hun isn’t starting school soon. We could work around the schedules easily,” you say, sitting on his lap at his invitation.

“I guess, but speaking of which,” he says excitedly. “I’ve started to look at schools for him and I’ve found some good ones. They’re safe and reported high percentages of the kids moving up to prestigious elementary…”

He trails, curious of your frown. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“Do you think that maybe we could slow down a bit? Ji-hun is just 2 and he’s still enjoying being a child.”

“We could still plan it out early though, right?”

“Yeah but that’ll influence what we make him do or try out and he’s just been trying out everything. I mean, he could be a professional athlete because he never runs out of energy and just chases Hoseok everywhere. He’s been digging up holes in the garden, too, and I can’t figure out if he wants to plant something or find something,” you laugh. “He’s been enjoying listening to Yoongi play the piano, and helping Mrs. Hwang in the kitchen, watching the fish in the pond…”

“He does, doesn’t he? He goes from one thing to another,” Jungkook chuckles.

“It’s so adorable and it’s been fun exploring all his likes and dislikes with him, don’t you think? It’s been fun watching him be a kid, playing around until past his bedtime, eating sweets…” you cock an eyebrow, and Jungkook knows what you mean. 

He’s a stickler for rules ever since, and you knew he’d be laying them down for your kids, too. It’s not much of a surprise, and it’s not that bad - you know he just wants the best for them, but you also wish that Jungkook would enjoy this whole parenting thing as much as you are.

“Am I being too much?” He asks after a while.

“Hmm, maybe just a tiny bit,” you turn to him and giggle.

“Not the fun dad you imagined, huh?” His smile immediately fades. 

“But you are!” You exclaim, shifting on his lap so you could look at him better. “You let Ji-hun put all those clothespins on your hair and face and he doesn’t stop laughing. You let him climb on you like you’re some tower, ride on your back and call you dinosaur…” you remind your husband. “Look, I know it’s a struggle, wanting to make sure he doesn’t get sick, wanting to protect him even from the smallest things, making sure he has everything he needs very early on… I want that, too.”

“I just… I just wanna make sure we’re not lacking in anything,” Jungkook sighs. “I mean, I was running around the market and rundown alleyways unattended, I’d go home with scratches on my arms from falling somewhere, my teacher was the one who noticed they were infected,” he recalls. “I didn’t know drinking coffee as a 10 year old was bad, I hated vegetables… I hated school because I lagged behind… My childhood was reckless because my father didn’t care, didn’t give me anything. And I just want to make sure I do it right with our kids this time.”

“And you are doing it right,” you assure him. “Baby, my parents gave me everything I needed so I never asked for anything anymore. They just gave it all. But they never hugged me to sleep nor laughed with me, cooked me food, or told me they loved me.”

You cup his cheeks and turn him to face you. “We can protect them and help them grow but still let them play, have fun, enjoy things; we can let them learn with us. We’ll still set the rules but they’ll follow out of trust and love for us, not out of fear or a need for approval. Don’t you think that’s how we could get it right?”

He nods, knowing that approach is based on experience - a combination of what you both lacked growing up, and something you want to make sure you give to your children.

“You’re so good at this,” he mumbles, burying his head in your neck.

“So are you, Jungkook. We’re both new to this, we’re figuring it out as we go but we at least know what not to do.”

He nods again. You know deep down, what Jungkook fears the most is his children not loving him, not trusting him, and you know that can’t be further from the truth.

You wrap your arms around him for comfort. “Our son adores you. Our daughter adores you. Ji-hun loves riding his hobby horse because he keeps watching that video of you in Spain riding a real one. He’s always got his doe eyes and he squeals in excitement every time. And Hyun-joo flutters her eyelashes whenever she hears your voice, did you know that? I think that’s her identifying you.”

“Do you mean those? You’re not just saying them so I’ll stop moping?” He peers at you.

“I mean them. You’re doing great, Jungkook, we both are,” you kiss his lips softly. “Grow up with our child, okay babe? Let’s do that with both of them.”

He nods with a smile this time. “I’m still a little sad, though. Can you give me another kiss?”

You give in, pressing into him deeply, then another, and another, until he’s gripping onto your waist and you’re holding onto his neck and you get lost in each other’s lips, as if to remind the other of the love that created your precious prince and princess. It’s that same love that’ll raise them to be happy and kind people, like what you and Jungkook wished for them when they were born.

**

The light seeps through the blinds and you barely make out the time on the clock. It’s 7AM but you feel like you haven’t gotten proper sleep. Your make-out session with your husband last night only escalated to feeling each other up until you both had to stop because Hyun-joo cried and it took a while for her to get back to sleep. 

She woke up again in the middle of the night, prompting you to do the same, and you feel like you’d finally gotten close to your deep sleep but she starts crying once more. Jungkook gets to it first, whispering that there’s stored milk he could give her in case she’s hungry. 

He returns to bed with his arm wrapped around you and you mindlessly ask what it was. 

“She was hungry but then she pooped right away. It was nasty.”

You snort at this, making you be a bit more awake. 

“Thank you, though. I didn’t have the energy to get up earlier,” you mumble.

“I know, my fingers could do that to you,” he teases. 

You don’t mind the cockiness though, since he says it with that deep, morning voice of his. And well, because he’s also right.

“Oh, I know, babe,” you moan, imagining the feel of his rough hands on you from last night. 

“Yeah?” He whispers in your ear, that grunt turning you on.

You nod, starting to feel his dick poking your back, and your grinding on it turns the switch for him.

His tender kisses on your neck turn heated. His gentle strokes on your waist become desperate - one hand wraps around you to move towards your breast and another to your cunt; the moans get louder and deeper, too. 

He pulls you closer, removes his boxers, and slips inside you from behind. You thrust against each other languidly, as your movements slow down. The pleasure is in the relaxed pace, as making love to him this way - after a restless night, some pillow talk, and another reminder of your love for each other - heightens the sensation. The pressure starts to build and right when you feel yourself reaching your climax, you hear Hyun-joo cry again.

“Fuck,” you whine, and it’s not from the orgasm you didn’t reach.

Jungkook slows down and the responsibility to your child breaks the mood. 

“I’ll get her,” he says, slowly slipping out of you.

“No, it’s okay. She’s probably teething or something, or maybe just hungry again,” you pant, already missing Jungkook, but getting out of bed to put on your robe.

“Go back to sleep, babe. We can continue later.”

You rush to the nursery next door and take your daughter in your arms, who cries a little bit more but calms down after you rock her in the chair. You feed her, thinking she’s hungry again and it’s the tiny hand that rests gently on your chest that tells you that she is and also in need of your touch.

“There you go, my precious jewel,” you smile, the tiredness melting away at the sight of your little girl looking so peaceful so close to you.

You love bonding with her like this, and you can’t wait to grow up with her, too.

The door opens and in comes Jungkook, and you could feel him smiling softly at this sight as well. He likes to do that, you’ve noticed. He loves watching your intimate moments with your children. 

“Everything okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, she just missed me,” you smile.

Jungkook takes the small chair next to you and rubs Hyun-joo’s little arms to help her fall asleep. 

Silence overtakes the room, but then the other baby monitor lights up, signaling that Ji-hun’s awake, too.

Your husband stands up, kisses your forehead, and heads out the door.

It’s a while later when he returns with the little boy clinging on to his torso like a koala.

“He keeps saying I’m the tree from his favorite book,” Jungkook whispers. 

You quietly laugh and greet your son good morning with a kiss.

“Mommy, I’m hungwee,” he says, scratching his sleepy eyes with his tiny hands.

You turn to Jungkook, who knows he’s got some making up to do.

“Do you want some star-shaped pancakes, big boy?”

Ji-hun nods excitedly. “Ice cweam, daddy!”

You laugh at your son testing Jungkook immediately, but you know your husband knows what to do.

“Okay but just a bit, alright? We’ll share a cup.”

You know the little one doesn’t fully understand but he nods happily at the word okay and his father’s smiling face. He kisses Jungkook’s cheeks and your husband’s smile is such a heavenly sight.

“Does my wife have any requests?” He turns to you.

“Fluffy chocolate pancakes for me, please,” you flutter your eyelashes. 

He frowns, knowing that Ji-hun will be begging for the chocolate chips, too, but Jungkook still manages a laugh.

“Okay, angel. I’ll see you downstairs.”

You watch them go and your eyes focus on Hyun-joo, wincing at the slight pain of her sucking.

It’s half an hour later when Mrs. Hwang peeks inside.

“Your boys are going at it again downstairs,” she giggles.

“What now?” You laugh.

“Ji-hun keeps saying he’s hungry but won’t let his father go. Jungkook can’t make the pancakes with your son hanging onto him,” she narrates amusingly. “I’m thinking maybe you could referee the two.”

“That little boy is so clingy. He’s really like me,” you muse, giving Hyun-joo to Mrs. Hwang. 

“So much like you,” she affirms. “I’ll take care of her. Go ahead.”

You rush downstairs and immediately hear Ji-hun squealing and Jungkook panicking. Your son, currently dangling in his high-chair, is attempting to get down while your husband is holding the mixing bowl on one hand and pulling the little one with the other.

“I want daddy!” Ji-hun screams.

“How’re the pancakes going?” You tease Jungkook.

“It’s not going,” he frowns. “Can you please tell him that I can’t carry him while I cook on the stove?”

He looks desperate to get the food done but doesn’t want to let your son down again.

“He just wants to be close to you,” you smile, taking the little one from the high-chair and carrying him in your arms, facing him forward.

“Now go cook and we’ll stay next to you.”

Jungkook follows and heads to pour the batter on the star-shaped cookie cutter while you and your son stand close to your husband, Ji-hun’s eyes wide in amusement.

“Isn’t daddy so good?” You ask the now tempered little one, who squeals like he understands it.

“Okay, now give him a kiss as a thank you,” you instruct the boy in your arms. 

He raises his arms and plants a wet kiss on Jungkook’s cheeks once he gets close, and Jungkook does the same, earning him a happier squeal from the little one this time.

Your husband laughs and turns to you with his soft eyes. 

“You always know what to do,” he says. “I couldn’t keep him still earlier.”

“He loves affection, especially when it’s from you.”

The thought warms Jungkook. Being needed like that by his own child feels different, satisfying, fulfilling. More than anything, he’s happy that he’s able to give that love and affection to your children, something you both didn’t have growing up, and something you promised each other you’ll always provide to them.

He looks at you, cuddling Ji-hun as you both wait for Jungkook to finish the pancakes, and he feels like he’s on top of the world like always. 

You created this home that's safe and nurturing for the two little treasures you both created. And knowing that he gets to have this everyday makes him feel like a superhuman of all sorts, like what you tell him all the time.

He’s not just someone. He’s your pillar of strength and guiding light. He’s Ji-hun and Hyun-joo’s hero, their blanket of warmth, their shield of protection.

Mrs. Hwang comes down with a now-awake Hyun-joo. You take her in your arms while Jungkook takes Ji-hun in his, and you all enjoy the breakfast he made, with all of you smiling and laughing together, as a family. Jungkook thinks there’s absolutely nothing that could be better than this. He has you and your children, all of whom are love personified. He knows he deserves all this, and he’ll give and receive love happily for the rest of his life.

##

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[strawberrymilkgeorge]

sweaters, breakfast, and a cold north carolina apartment

pairing: irl karl jacobs x gn reader warnings: rpf pronouns: not used word count: 1.4k (ish) summary: sleeping over at karl’s apartment was fun! except he keeps his air way too cold... at least you have his sweaters and his cooking and him to warm you up 

note: this is a fic for @dreamcatcherrs​​ 5k event!! congrats again stella!!!! the prompt I had was “I can't get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you're having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

One of the most exciting things about the beginning of relationships was firsts. First date, first kiss, first time confessing your love for your partner… the list goes on. You were visiting your boyfriend in North Carolina and it was all exciting, but you quickly learned not every part of “firsts” was enjoyable. The first time sleeping at Karl’s apartment? Well, the weather could make it almost miserable.

Shivering lightly, you pulled your blanket closer to you, but it didn’t help much. North Carolina winters were more brutal than you expected and it seemed your boyfriend disagreed; Karl kept the air at a disgustingly low temperature considering it was snowing outside.

You looked over at his sleeping figure before glancing at the clock by his head. It was nearly five in the morning and there was no way you’d be able to fall back asleep while it was this cold. The frosty air seemed to seep into your skin and you could almost picture the ice building up over your vital organs. You were going to literally freeze from the outside in if you didn’t do anything about it.

After a quick glance around the room, you spotted a chunky sweater that had been thrown over the back of a chair when Karl was getting ready for bed and you remembered him bragging about how effective it was against the outside air when you two took a walk yesterday. You slipped out of the covers and quickly grabbed it without a second thought, throwing it on over your pajamas. It was a little chilly from being out in the cold air, but it trapped in your body heat and you could feel your arms thaw out a little. You quickly got back into bed before the air could get between the sheets and make the mattress even colder.

It was still freezing, but Karl’s large sweater was significantly warmer than just the long sleeve shirt you had underneath. It gave you butterflies to know you were wearing something of his. That was another first, wearing each other’s clothes.

You looked to Karl as you laid back down, who seemed to be just fine, spread out and looking very content despite it being the temperature of Antarctica. You decided to complain to him about it when he woke up, but he looked too peaceful to disturb now. Still wanting to make it his problem in some way, you rolled over and cuddled into him for warmth, and his sleeping arms subconsciously wrapped around you when you got closer.

Despite being wrapped in his arms and sweater, you weren’t able to get a lot more sleep, and a few hours later you woke up again. After deciding to stay up, you went to the living room to watch shows so you didn’t wake up your boyfriend. You turned on some cartoons and grabbed every blanket in the living room you could find, piling them on top of you. Halfway through one of your favorite episodes, Karl walked out, rubbing his eyes gently before smiling at you and bounding over, lightly tackling you as you lied on the couch.

“Hello, there,” you laughed as he crushed you and placed a kiss on your lips. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” he responded. “What are you doing out here? Under a mountain of blankets?”

“Your room is freezing,” you explained. “I couldn’t sleep and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

He frowned and you leaned up to kiss his pout. “I’m sorry you were so cold,” he apologized as he stood up. “You should have woken me up.”

You shook your head. “You looked too cute, I couldn’t disturb you.”

He laughed through his nose and shook his head. “I’ll go turn the heat up and then how about we get some breakfast?”

“Yes to both of those,” you replied, peeling back the pile of blankets on top of you and pulling yourself off the couch. Karl stared at what you were wearing but didn’t say anything about the specific clothing, which made you a little self-conscious. Was he okay with the fact you stole one of his sweaters without asking?

You grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around you before grabbing his outstretched hand. You followed him into the kitchen after he changed the temperature in the apartment and looked in the pantry while he looked in the fridge.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked.

Humming, you scanned the shelves looking for something to catch your eye. “Cheerios.”

“You don’t want any warm food like pancakes or something?”

You looked over at him quickly and your eyes followed him as he walked over to you. “You’d make me pancakes?”

He giggled and wrapped his arms behind you, giving you a kiss on the cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Of course I would. Figure they could help warm you up,” he teased before adding a little quieter, “Aaaand it’s the first time you’ve slept over so I wanna show off my amazing chef skills. Nothing says ‘we should do this again’ like me making you food.”

“Karl Jacobs, you spoil me,” you joked as you turned around in his embrace to look at him.

“You’re worth spoiling,” he declared cheesily as he pressed a few short kisses to your face. “So, yes? Pancakes?”

“Yes, please. Can I help you in some way?” you asked, watching him as he started grabbing ingredients.

“Nope, just sit back and watch the master at work,” he boasted, pushing up his sleeves. You laughed at his seriousness and took a seat at the counter, observing the way he made the food like it was muscle memory. The room was much warmer now, but his sweater was way too comfortable to take off, so you resorted to removing the blanket around you. You grabbed the ends of your sleeves in your fists and rested your chin in your hands as your elbows pressed against the countertop.

As Karl finished making the last of the meal, he glanced at you and his eyes flickered to the sweater, now visible without the blanket. Gray eyes stared into yours and a small smile tugged at his lips. “What?” you asked impatiently in the silence, a nervous laugh behind your words as you continued to look at the boy. Was he about to say it was weird for you to put on his clothes without asking?

Karl opened his mouth but no words came out, a large smile taking place on his lips instead. He shook his head lightly, trying his hardest to contain the smile as he turned off the stove and handed you a plate of pancakes.

“Karl, what?” you laughed. “What is so funny?”

“Nothing’s funny,” he corrected before giggling, cheeks reddening. He placed a bottle of syrup on the counter between you as he set his own plate of pancakes down in front of him. “It’s just that... I can’t get over how a few months ago I wanted to learn your name and now you’re having breakfast with me... in my sweater.”

You looked down at the fabric keeping you warm and felt your face heat up at the sight of it. “Oh.” You looked back up and rolled your eyes lightly but were relieved that he finally addressed it so you knew he was okay with it. “You’re a dork.”

“It’s cute!” he defended, pride in his expression. “You know that’s one of my favorites?”

“I see why; it’s incredibly warm and soft,” you mumbled.

He giggled and just kept smiling at you. “Well I was going to offer cuddling as a solution if you’re still cold when we’re done eating, but if my clothes are warm enough then-”

“No, no,” you contradicted. “We can still cuddle.”

He smiled and a small giggle escaped. “So needy of you.”

“Shut up.”

Despite what you thought as you were kept awake through the night by the cold air, the first time sleeping over at Karl’s wasn’t miserable after all. The pancakes definitely helped, but you decided sleepovers with your boyfriend needed to happen more often.

But it really wouldn’t kill him to turn the heater on for once.

[spacedikut]

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

“Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

[riisinaakka-draws]

1st part of my old Black Sails scraps and doodles from 2016–2021. Not in any particular order.

This post has a glimpse to one of my BS binders with the most less-effort-and-crack-idea doodles. Also lots of puns and the Walrus crew shenanigans. Flint is a dick and Billy is tall and Silver keeps bringing the parrot into canon one way or another.

And of course, please, do not steal and repost elsewhere! But if you do get inspired, feel free to make your own interpretations! :)

I put them under the cut, because this is a very long post!

Puns with “Black Sails” lead of course to all kinds of things, one of which ended up becoming the Full Walrus Speed! comic (2018). Here I was thinking how to convey “the scarf sails” with Silver as he sneaks out at night to test Flint’s words (and how the wind keeps blowing “the sail” onto his face) although it didn’t end up in the finished comic.

There’s also Eleanor holding a chart with Vane’s name and “black sales” as he wasn’t doing so well. The Death is sailing a variation the trash raft with “black sails” as it did in this other art: The Death following the Walrus (2016).

There’s also a comic with Flint, Thomas and Abigail’s letter, but that’s gonna be it’s own post when I finish it (but wanted to mention it here as it was related to these). It includes “Block Spoils”, “Block Soils”, and 2 x “Bleak Seals” ;)

“I’m going to make you the Princes of the New World!”  and some of the Walrus crew as “princes”. Flint made them paper crowns and these were the very first BS doodles I ever drew, or at least one of the firsts (no date written tho). This was done right after I watched the first episode and when I got the spark that this show was going to be something... truly spectacular.

Also I hadn’t drawn anything for months (closer to a year) and even holding a pen and the thought of drawing anything felt almost nauseating at the time (I was crawling through depression) but I just had to do something with the excitement. And doodling ended up helping me a lot to get back on my feet, so thousands thanks, Flint’s bloody feral face (and billion thanks to Black Sails fans who have encouraged me during all these years!).

Around early season 3 by the looks of it. Doodling cool Flint with a felt tip and then the parrot and goofy Silver photobombed. The parrot is parroting Flint of course. I was wondering if they were going to include the bird in the show and this is how it manifested.

Season 1. “Framing problems” inspired by the scene with Flint and Billy (although in the doodle there’s also Silver’s top of the head)

...because the height difference and I wondered if it was hard to get them fit into the same frame lol

I love Silver’s face here and the sock-parrot although I didn’t even bother with Flint here other than the pose. This lead to the art: “Let Me Tell You A Story...” (2018) although the composition changed. Tbh I like this version a bit more in retrospect but I coudn’t make it work with the hammock/pallet at the time... Silver is trying to cheer up Flint.

Half way through of this post, btw!

Alternative scenes for this art: ”Neverland!crack!AU!” (2017) which features Captain Silver Hook, Billy Pan and Ginger Bell.

The texts are the bolded parts:

Gates dreamed it (he wakes up in cold sweat and is like NO.)

Israel Hands as Smee, and another one where Dufresne is Smee. Silver as Captain Hook as in the art too, although here it’s very obscure.

Billy as Peter Pan + lost boys and Silver saying “I thought you never grow up” and it ended up in the final piece too, but a bit differently.

Some texts in the lower left corner: “Robert Stevenson and Bay roll in their graves” (uh..Michael Bay? He’s not dead. I guess I added Bay later and lost the thought anyway)

“The hyena guy laughed when I was doodling these at 2 am” (I had a weird neighbour at the time and he’d randomly laugh like a hyena at nights and it happened again while I, too, was sniggering at my late night silly doodles because I couldn’t sleep). I didn’t bother to start cropping this snippet out :)

“Flint as Tinkerbell” and “Only one emotion per time, needs to be believed” (in). Here’s a close up:

The other doodle is Flint sleeping, because instead of Mr. Gates, maybe Flint dreamt this weird au with the faces of people around him. Silver (or Billy? Gates?) is trying to wake him up and he mumbles “Mmmh, NO, don’t throw food around” (this was a nod to the movie “Hook” and the Lost Boys waisting food in that one dinner scene).

“No, I’m the fairy!” (I can’t remember was I thinking of someone else to be Tinkerbell at the time or maybe it was because I was also thinking Flint as Hook? but instead he “wanted” to be Ginger Bell in his dream instead so...) and “Fuck you England crocodile!” (who’d be the antagonist in this au).

Mr. Gates: “Look at my lad!”

“The reason why Billy didn’t have a beard in early seasons.”

...was because otherwise he might have been pressured to style it like his father figure, lol. Also *sob* with Gates gone, Billy’s beard became wild in the show as the time goes on (remember beard of betrayl?).

Flint, after the fight with Singleton, here sleeping peacefully with a nosebleed. The text (someone saying it): “Gross.”

Flint: “I think I was in heaven for a sec” (because he bumbed into Billy). “It felt like hitting a brick wall”. Texts: Flint being a dick (and blind from blood-loss), and Billy thinking (and getting the idea for the legendary Black Spot early on): “I have been marked... with a red spot“ (and it’s his doom).

In the left corner: “favourite Billy Bones face”

inspired by this one:

And the last two doodles for this bunch:

“Someone get me a glass!” ... and the aftermath of Silver shouting for a spyglass and of course the Walrus crew providing “a glass”... which here is an hourglass, a wine glass and another one, a magnifying glass, a mirror (looking glass) although at first it was supposed to be an ice cream (Swedish word, because hey, there might be some Swedish pirates on the crew etc..) and some one bringing a glass of water but making it fancier with a coctail umbrella. For their beloved new quartermaster, you know. Oh yeah, and someone threw Dufresne’s glasses at him but they got stuck on the rope.

Aaaand doodles for “A Tattoo Boom on board the Walrus”. Everybody wants a walrus tattoo and there ends up being all kinds of variations on board. Cute ones, sexy ones, creepy ones, and so on, all featuring a walrus in some form xD

For a long time I was going to draw this properly but never really got into it, so feel free to draw bunch of pirates with cool Walrus tattoos if you need something to draw! (or need an excuse to practise anatomy, as I was planning to do...lol) :D

Thanks for reading, I hope you had fun <3

[maria-scribbles]

glitter + crimson (let’s start a riot)//part two

summary: the pogues get up to a few shenanigans, burn the shit out of some marshmallows, and have a group hug of epic proportions. the dynamic duo of kiara and sailor brings out girl power in full force before getting real about a certain golden group rule. 

word count: 4.2k+ 

ship: jj maybank x oc (sailor flynn)

warnings: mentions of abuse/neglect/parental abandonment/anxiety, underage drinking, weed usage, more fluff, flirting, reference to absolute legend kobe bryant

a/n: hello again! thank you all for the great response to part one, i’m seriously blown away and so grateful for your support! <3 i’m happy y’all enjoyed reading about sailor’s adventures with the pogues! here’s part two, which had previously been combined with part one but i decided to split it because it was getting wayyyy too long (over 8k words, oops). also i’ve never even seen weed with my own two eyes before so my bad if that part’s not realistic, i did my best lol. unbetaed, so i apologize for any mistakes. enjoy!

gif credit goes to @toesure​

~Masterlist~

part one | part three | part four | playlist

part two: treading water 

The pogues spend the next few hours among the waves, surfing their hearts out until they’re waterlogged, exhausted, and hungry. As the sun starts to sink over the island they pile into John B’s beat up Volkswagen, all their boards tied together on the roof, and head to The Wreck, where Kiara’s dad begrudgingly feeds his daughter and her ‘delinquent’ friends.

That word seems pretty harsh at first but as the evening goes on and the group gets a little louder, it’s kind of well-deserved. Pope can’t seem to stop dropping his fork, sending the rest of them into hysterical laughter each time, and everyone knows when Taylor Swift comes on the radio, Sailor has an obligation to get up and dance. The fact that she knocks a chair over in her haste to show off her moves only makes them laugh harder. When they finally leave and head back to the Chateau for the night, she makes sure to put forty bucks on their table for the food and the twelve pack of beer Kiara swipes from behind the bar when Mr. Carrera isn’t looking.

While it may not look like much, John B’s house if home for more than just him. It’s a safe port for all the pogues when they get lost in the storm, a place where they can all be themselves, be real, without judgement, and it’s Sailor’s second favorite place on the island. She’s lost count of how many nights she’s spent here, sleeping in the spare room, on the pull-out couch, and the hammock in the yard (sleepovers have become even more common in the eight months since Big John’s disappearance at sea, no one willing to leave his son all alone in an empty house.).

The hammock is where she finds herself now on this warm June night, sitting beside JJ with his arm around her shoulders, clad in his sweatshirt that she unashamedly stole last year, passing a joint back and forth while the others lounge around the small bonfire, roasting the old marshmallows John B found in the very back of one of his kitchen’s cupboards and drinking beer. One of her long legs dangles over the edge, toes pushing against the cool grass as they lazily swing back and forth, watching Kiara burn her third marshmallow in a row.

“Kie, what did those poor things ever do to you?” Sailor asks, exhaling smoke through her nose before passing the joint to JJ, and the brush of his fingers against hers sends warmth through her whole body. Kiara just shoots her the bird in response as she stabs her fourth marshmallow and holds it over the fire. The redhead laughs and rests her head against JJ’s shoulder, her limbs light as air. In the distance, lightning arcs between the clouds and creates a dazzling show over the water as thunder rumbles but none of them care enough to notice.

Although she never outright asks to smoke, she also never refuses the chance to get high with her best friend and let their problems drift away with every hit, if only for a little while. Lines get a little blurry between them, too, as both become oh so affectionate with each other when their inhibitions disappear like the sun over the horizon. She sighs contentedly at the blissful feeling of his fingers running through her hair and burrows further into his side, turning so she can throw an arm over his waist and curl her own fingers into the soft material of his shirt.

“Damn it!” John B yells as his marshmallow, in the span of a few seconds, catches fire and unceremoniously falls into the flames with a hiss.

“Ha, I’m not the only one on the struggle bus!” Kiara laughs gleefully, delicately turning her fourth attempt to keep it from burning like the other three. “We can’t all be Pope, I guess.”

The other boy looks up at the mention of his name and grins, holding out a perfectly toasted marshmallow on the end of the stick in his hand. “It takes talent, Kie.” He jokes, chuckling as she sticks her tongue out at him.

Sailor can’t help laughing, too when the two of them dive headfirst into a heated discussion about the finer points of roasting things over a campfire, their voices becoming louder and louder as they try to talk over one another while John B, unfazed from his spot between them, just holds another marshmallow over the fire and ignores them completely as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Aaaand JB’s totally checked out of that particular conversation,” She says to JJ under her breath and she feels more than hears him laugh in response.

“Poor bastard,” He whispers back before taking one last hit of the joint, now burnt down to a nub in his hand, and flicking it into the fire with a shout of “Kobe!”

“Nice one, hotshot.” She shifts her head up on his shoulder as her eyes unabashedly trace his profile in the warm orange glow of the fire, from the golden hair falling haphazardly onto his forehead and down the straight slope of his nose to the curve of his lips before she’s caught -not that she was being subtle in any possible way-, his ocean blue gaze holding hers with an electrified energy that would’ve normally set her whole face aflame. She’s not Normal Sailor now though, she’s High Sailor and High Sailor has positively zero shame so she just looks up at him with a saccharine smile on her face and blesses the fact that weed makes her bold as hell. 

The flickering flames throw JJ’s features into sharp relief and highlight the dimples that she loves as he returns her smile, the hand in her hair now twirling a single curl around his finger. His free hand settles on the strip of bare skin at her waist where her sweatshirt has ridden up and her heart beats a little faster when he starts drawing agonizingly slow circles with his thumb. Her hand releases its grip on his shirt and before she even realizes it, she’s reaching up and brushing a finger along her jaw, just like he’d done to her that afternoon on the beach, and she feels the fingers at her waist press against her skin. 

It’s moments like these that make her wish she could freeze time and live in them forever. Just the two of them, looking at each other like they’re more than just friends, touching each other like they’re falling into something beautiful and all they need to do is stick the landing. The possibility of taking that final leap teases her. He’s so close, it wouldn’t take much to just reach up and make that minuscule distance between them disappear and from the way his eyes flick down to her mouth and back, she’s sure he’s thinking the same. They won’t though and for now that’s okay, but deep down she wonders just how long they can balance on the cliff’s edge before they both fall. 

As much as she’d like to stare at his stupidly handsome face all night, the weather has other plans as lightning flashes white across the sky, immediately followed by a big crack of thunder that makes Sailor jump and accidentally headbutt JJ right in the forehead. The stick in Pope’s hand goes flying somewhere into the bushes when he startles, too, and there’s a pause as everyone looks at each other before bursting into wild laughter.

“Jesus, Sail,” JJ says, reaching up to rub at the spot she hit, “you have a hard head.”

Her reply of “speak for yourself!” is drowned out by another clap of thunder and seconds later it starts pouring rain, sending the group scrambling to head back inside the Chateau before they get too drenched. The duo, in their haste, get tangled together in the hammock and nearly fall to the ground in a heap but manage to hold each other up with their hands clasped tight, both laughing so hard she’s sure the water on their faces is more than just rain.

“The beer! Don’t forget the beer!” Someone yells and John B, halfway to the porch in front of them, does a smooth 180 on the wet grass and runs back for the booze sitting beside the dying fire, sending them a lazy salute when he passes by.

“We honor your sacrifice, Captain!” JJ calls over his shoulder before they clamber onto the porch alongside a giggling Kiara.

“Oh my God, you two almost bit it so hard.” She says while wringing out her shirt, adding to the steadily growing puddle of water at their feet.

“But we didn’t, all thanks to me and my impeccable balance.” He says proudly, grinning down at the girl still snug against his side before she lets go of his hand to slug him in the shoulder.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Oh please, J, I was the one who kept you from falling on your face. Now, hold still.” Sailor orders and places her hand on his arm, using him for balance as she brushes the grass from her feet.

“Yes, ma’am.” His reply is low in her ear, his hand settles even lower on her back, and she pretends the shiver her body makes is just from the cool rain.

“You like being bossed around, Maybank?”

Her hand grips his strong shoulder a little bit tighter, and she feels his fingers tighten on her sweatshirt as he replies, “Depends on who’s doing the bossing, Flynn.”

Kiara coughs pointedly, staring at them with her eyebrows raised and Sailor feels her face begin to flush bright red because, to be honest, she’d kind of forgotten she was even there as they both let go of each other. The other girl snickers and drawls, “If you two are quite done-”

Thankfully, a thoroughly soaked John B joins them and interrupts whatever Kiara was going to say, his hair plastered to his face and dripping onto the soggy carton of beer protectively cradled in his arms.

“Mission accomplished.” He says with a satisfied smile, setting the drinks down on a chair before shaking his head like a dog and splattering rainwater on everyone, including Pope as he emerges from the house carrying a pile of towels. A few drops land on his cheek and he wrinkles his nose in disgust, wiping them away with his own towel hanging around his neck.

“I was just kidding about the beer.” He says, throwing one and smacking John B right in the face, then kindly passing out the rest. Sailor barely grabs the last one before Pope’s suddenly put in a headlock by the brunet boy, yelling something about mutiny and a captain “not standing for this” as they start to grapple back and forth. JJ pauses in the middle of drying his hair and instantly jumps into the fray after tossing his towel to the floor, the scuffle quickly turning into a three way wrestling match.

She and Kiara both glance at each other and roll their eyes before scooting by the melee and heading into the house, leaving the boys to do their thing. They quickly dry off and change into pajamas, hang their wet clothes up to dry in the bathroom, and then tiredly flop onto the bed in the spare room together.

“How long do you think it’ll take until Wrestlemania out there’s done?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her stomach and reaching to pull her phone and glasses out of her bag on the floor; under her newly acquired hat, the lightning whelk peeks through its towel and the sight of it makes her smile softly. Kiara snorts and sits up, crossing her legs and running her fingers through her damp hair. “Knowing those fools, too long.”

The redhead laughs and mirrors the other girl’s position before slipping her glasses on and glancing down at her phone in trepidation, where no new texts block the lock screen picture of her and the rest of the pogues, and she does her best to ignore the hurt coiling in her chest, the smile fading from her face. She places the phone screen down on the bedside table and when she raises her head, she’s not surprised to find Kiara, ever so perceptive, staring at her with sympathy in her soft brown eyes.

“You okay?” She asks and Sailor takes off her glasses, then pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them.

“Could be better.”

Lightning illuminates the room, followed by an impressive crack of thunder a few seconds later as rain continues to pound against the window and down the hall, they hear the door slam closed as the boys finally storm inside after their scuffle, still yelling like banshees. The other girl reaches over and quickly squeezes her wrist before shooting her a bright smile.

“If you ever need to vent, I’m all ears.”

She knows she means it. Aside from JJ, Kiara’s her closest friend and from the moment they met, the two had quickly bonded over being the only girls in the group and their love of the environment: she’s lost count of how many times they’ve volunteered, both themselves and the rest of the pogues, to help raise money for animals. Despite Kiara’s kook year, Sailor considers her a sister and knows that Kie feels the same about her. Having each other’s backs no matter what is just what they do.

The redhead looks away from watching the storm outside and matches Kiara’s smile, then scoots closer to wrap her arms around her in a grateful hug.

“Thanks, Kie.” 

The dark haired girl eagerly returns the embrace. “Any-”

“Comin’ through, gotta get me some of this group hug action!” JJ yells, storming into the room like a hurricane and throwing his arms around them, all but tackling them onto the bed before they even realize what’s happening.

“No, no, you’re still wet!” Sailor cries as his head rests against the back of her neck, his damp hair slowly beginning to soak into her shirt while Kiara growls, “Oh my God, get off!” 

“And miss out on this? No way.” He says cheekily and pulls them both closer, ignoring the dark haired girl’s venomous glare and attempts to pry his hand away from her arm. Sailor, resigned to her fate, just laughs and calls over his arm to John B and Pope as they curiously poke their heads in from the hall, “Get your asses in here!”

She doesn’t have to tell them twice. They throw themselves into the hug faster than she can blink and with such contagious enthusiasm that Kiara can’t fight the affectionate grin making its way onto her face, even as she threatens, “I’m gonna kill all of you.”

Sailor rests her cheek on JJ’s outstretched arm and smiles to herself. This, right here and now, is where she belongs, surrounded by the best friends she could ask for, living each moment to its fullest. No matter what comes their way, she knows this is true: as long as they all stand together, the pogues will be just fine. 

Some time later, the hug comes to an end as JJ jokingly complains about Sailor’s big head making his arm numb, which earns him a swift elbow to the stomach from the redhead.

“Weak.” She replies, smirking at the little oof he makes before grabbing his arm and pulling them both up from the bed. “Now get out.” 

“Please.” Kiara agrees and pushes John B out the door, followed by Pope. “This room is girls only.”

“Since when?” The latter asks, sidestepping to avoid JJ as he’s playfully shoved into the hall by Sailor, who replies, “Right now.”

“Why?”

“’Cause we said so!” Both girls say in unison before they slam the door shut and then lean their backs against it, giggling. On the other side, they hear Pope ask in a very amused voice, “I thought this was your house?”

John B sighs the deepest sigh they’ve ever heard before replying, “Yeah, I did, too.”

“Ten bucks they’re gonna talk shit about us.” JJ says and there’s a not so subtle bump against the door that gives away the fact that he’s got his ear pressed to it, trying to listen in on them; a fact that gets proven when Sailor smacks her hand on it and makes him stumble back with a yelp of surprise.

“Dream on!”

“You wish!”

She and Kiara call at the same time, then glance at each other and burst into another fit of giggles.

“Tough break, dude. You’ll feel better in the morning.” That was John B’s tactless way of saying he’s tired without actually saying it and seconds later they hear his footsteps disappear down the hall to his room as he makes his escape, followed faintly by the sound of his door swinging shut.

“You don’t talk about us at all, Sail? Seriously?” JJ asks and Sailor can almost feel the sheer force of Pope’s inevitable eye roll when he mumbles under his breath, “Oh my God.”

Kiara’s on the same wavelength as him because she rolls her eyes, too and all but yells, “If we say yes will you fucking leave?” 

There’s a pause and then: a slightly miffed “...yes.” along with Pope trying and failing to disguise his laugh as a cough.

“Then yes, we do talk about you. Now go.”

“Okay, okay! Jeez.”

“Goodnight, boys!” Sailor calls in a singsong voice before hearing them retreat to the living room, arguing about who gets the sleeper sofa and who gets stuck with the regular couch. When she’s sure they’re gone she shakes her head fondly (she doesn’t see why they can’t just get over themselves and share the damn thing) and turns back to Kiara, who’s already in the middle of pulling the damp comforter from the bed, her face the picture of disgust. 

“Ugh,” She shudders, tossing it to the floor and then wiping her hands on a discarded towel from earlier. “Don’t touch that.”

“No shit.”

The dark haired girl jokingly flips Sailor the bird and then joins her in lounging on the bed, watching the fan spin in circles above their heads while the storm outside continues to rage on. The silence is comforting, soothing, and goes on for so long that the redhead’s nearly sent off to dreamland by the sound of the rain before Kiara finally speaks, “Hey, Sail?”

She hums in response, slowly turning her head to face her and blinking the sleep out of her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.” She replies with an impish grin, but it slips from her face when the other girl shoots her a flat, unamused glance. 

“Ha ha. I’m being serious, okay?”

Well that wasn’t worrying at all. “Is something wrong?” Sailor asks, rolling onto her side to face her friend completely and propping her head on her arm, all traces of lethargy thrown out the window. Kiara does the same with an unreadable look in her eyes as she answers, “No, I’m just a little...okay, a lot curious about something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

“I mean, I kind of have to. You know I suck at lying.”

She frowns when Kiara doesn’t even react to her comment and instead starts to worry her bottom lip between her teeth. “It’s kind of a personal question, though.”

Oh, Jesus. She’s gonna ask about her dad, Sailor knows it, and that’s something she’s just not ready to talk about -she hasn’t even told JJ the whole story yet and she tells him (almost) everything- but before she can think of a semi-decent excuse, or run to the bathroom, or pretend to just pass the fuck out, Kiara blurts, “What’s the deal between you and JJ?”

Okay, that’s decidedly not what she expected to hear and it completely throws her for a loop, her brain blowing a fuse in epic fashion. A long stream of gibberish comes from her mouth as she tries and fails to articulate a response because holy hell she’s so not prepared for this; she’s a listener, not a talker! She’s the confidante not the confider, the asker not the answerer, and she can feel herself getting a little sweaty at just the thought of talking about her feelings, even with someone as close to her as Kiara. She almost wishes the other girl had asked about her dad.  

To be honest she should’ve seen this coming, considering the looks Kiara’s been sending her recently and especially today, the ones that clearly meant that the dark haired girl’s seen what’s been happening and wants. that. tea. What Sailor doesn’t get though, is why she’s being so serious about it: she expects at least an overexaggerated wink or a teasing comment or two from her friend but she’s just waiting patiently, the slightest hint of mirth in her eyes. 

Finally, the redhead manages to collect her panicked thoughts enough to squeak oh so eloquently, “Me-him-nothing!” 

Kiara arches one eyebrow. “Sail, you really do suck at lying.”

Sailor flops back onto the bed and slides her hands down her furiously blushing face with a groan. “I’m not lying.” She mutters insistently but even she can admit it sounds weak as hell.

“It’s obvious there’s something-”

Something in her snaps and before she can stop them, words just start coming out with the force of a wave crashing against the shore, rough and callous. “It’s obvious there’s nothing going on, okay? Nothing. And even if there was -not that I’m saying there is- it can’t happen. That’s the golden rule, Kie.” 

Kiara looks momentarily taken aback at the redhead’s outburst and then rolls onto her back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before she whispers quietly, like a secret she’s reluctant to share, “Maybe I think that rule is stupid.” 

“Stupid?” Sailor glances over incredulously, the brief flash of anger aimed at her friend slowly morphing into confusion. “You’re the one who came up with it in the first place!”

“I know...” The dark haired girl sighs, tiredly running her hands through her hair, “I wanted to keep things from getting weird! It’s worked pretty well so far but I’m kind of, sort of, maybe starting to think it might not have been the best idea.”

“Why?” She asks, brow furrowing.

Kiara appears deep in thought as she keeps staring at the ceiling, working her jaw until she seems to come to a decision and turns her head to look Sailor in the eye. “Because I don’t think something as simple as a rule should be able to dictate who you can or can’t...love.”

Oh, God. Anxiety starts to take hold in her chest and she tries to keep her brain from going into five-alarm fire mode, her fingers tapping nervously against her leg. Why oh why did she have to say the L-word? Who said anything about that? Hell, it’s been a few months and she’s still getting used to her world-changing, panic-inducing, everything-clicking-into-place epiphany that made her realize that she does, in fact, like JJ as more than a friend (how and when her feelings changed, she hasn’t quite figured that out yet.). She’s not even close to thinking about love. Noticing her friend’s distress, Kiara reaches over to place her darker hand on the paler girl’s and gives it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m not saying you love him, okay? But there’s obviously something good going on between you guys and I’m not cool with some dumb rule we made when we were twelve getting in the way of your happiness,” Her mouth curls into a lighthearted smirk, “even if it happens to be with someone as, uh, distinct as JJ.”

Despite herself, Sailor snorts a laugh and the tight feeling in her chest slowly starts to become a little more bearable as its replaced by a swell of gratitude that she has a person as wonderful as Kiara for a friend. She really did luck out in that department, she thinks, and the corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile. 

“Distinct?”

“Hey, I was gonna say idiotic but I’m trying to be nice here.” The dark haired girl says, laughing as Sailor affectionately rolls her eyes before continuing, “But you do know that if he messes this up I’ll kick his ass, right?”

“Trust me, I do.”

“Good.” She punctuates that with a massive yawn, then rolls away from her and pulls the sheets higher over her chest, mumbling, “Now I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed. All this deep talk made me tired.”

“Big mood,” Sailor replies, reaching over and flicking off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the occasional flash of lightning through the windows as she rolls comfortably onto her side, tucking her arm under the pillow. Silence settles over them, dark and calm and stretching for who knows how long before she says quietly, “Thanks, Kie.”

There’s no answer. Realizing she must’ve already nodded off, the redhead’s just about to crash herself when her friend’s reply softly cuts through the silence like a knife.

“You’re not the only one I did it for.”

Kiara doesn’t say anything after that and Sailor falls asleep wondering what, or rather who, exactly the other girl meant. 

~

let me know what you think! 

taglist ❤ (i added everyone who’s comments and reblogs made me smile so let me know if you don’t want to be tagged!) : @jiaraendgame @obxlife @sunflowerbecca @maysbanks @obx-adventures @mortifiedposts @sexualparkour​ @coltonparayyko​ @heavensalreadyheres​

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Dance For Me (Traci! Kara x Human! Connor) (Chapter Four)

Authors Note- And here we are with Chapter Four of DFM. This is where things get serious, as our boy Connor gets a call about a homicide at the Eden Club aaaand... nope I say anymore and I’ll spoil the entire chapter before you even think of reading it. But I will let you know of any triggers in the story. In this chapter it will feature death, blood, and swearing courtesy of one Gavin Reed. If none of this is your cup of tea then this is where we part ways but I’ll remember our time fondly.

But if you’re cool with that then onward to Chapter Four, I hope you enjoy.

Chapter Four: Investigations.

Connor hated mornings, he thought as he stifled a yawn as he walked into the breakroom in desperate need of coffee. And maybe one of Hank’s donuts the older man kept hidden, especially from a certain someone who could enjoyed making Hank and on occasion Connor’s life miserable on a near daily occurrence. 

“So, the asshole tells me that if I don’t stop what I’m doing and leave the dick I’m trying to arrest alone he’s going to call the cops.” Connor tensed as he stepped into the room, and heard an all too familiar voice. Great, just what he didn’t want to deal with today...or any day.

Glancing further into the room he saw Gavin Reed leaning against the table talking with Tina, who listened raptly to whatever story the other Detective was going on about. Shaking his head Connor ignored the other man as he made his way towards the coffee machine.  “So I look to the guy like I can’t believe him and I reach into my pocket for my badge, and I’m like I am an cop you asshole. And if you don’t stop messing with me I’m going to arrest you too. And do you think the asshole took a hint and fucked off?” Gavin continued, seeming oblivious to Connor’s presence as he continued to talk.

Tina only shook her head. Coffee untouched in her hands as she listened to him. And as Connor waited for his coffee to brew he watched the two. Resting his hip on the counter, arms crossed over his chest as he listened. Wondering why anyone ever listened to any of Gavin’s crap. Like the man in question was a god among his peers, when in reality Gavin was nothing more than a slimy, miserable, asshole with a badge. Connor could recall more than a few occasions when he or Hank would butt heads with the other Detective. And Gavin wasn’t someone to back down, or pull punches, Connor recalled more than once how Gavin had pointed out that Hank was nothing more than a worthless Detective who cared more about getting shit-faced than doing his job as a cop. 

However, Connor had jumped to Hank’s defense and basically put Gavin in his place, earning the ire of the other Detective, remembering grey eyes glaring up at him as Gavin took a few steps towards him, hands balled into fists, but thankfully Captain Fowler had stepped out of his office to break up the impending fight, but ever since then Connor could always feel Gavin’s eyes on him, or having him bump into him whenever he walked past. And Connor, never being one to rise up to any challenges from Gavin ignored it, after all, what was the point it wasn’t like Gavin ever tried anything outside of the precinct anyways. And Connor worked too hard to get where he was to ruin it because of the man before him.

And, if he was being honest. Gavin wanted to rise up the ranks anyway, so why would he ruin any chances messing with Connor? So aside from a few incidents Connor had heard through the grapevine Gavin was all talk. Shaking his head Connor poured himself a cup of coffee, and headed back to the office. Taking a seat at his desk he wondered what today would have for him. Seeing that Hank wasn’t there he could only assume the older man was back home sleeping off last nights bender. Connor couldn’t help but smile as he imagined it, the older man no doubt past out on his couch, his massive, slobbering hound Sumo cuddled up next to the man.

Shaking his head, he booted up his computer and set about going to work. Looking up only once as Gavin walked past his desk to his own, propping his feet up on his desk as he leaned back in his chair before going about his own work. The computer screen illuminating the other mans face, making the scar across the bridge of his nose stand out more, Connor wondered if he had received it in one of his many fights, the man could never shut his mouth when it mattered, hence he got into more than a few fights. Hell, Connor thought as he turned back to his own computer, typing away. It seemed the man just reveled in chaos. 

Shaking his head Connor pushed those thoughts from his head as he set about working. Muttering a hello to Hank as the man plopped down at his desk in front of him. However it wasn’t long before Captain Fowler poked his head out of his office.

“Stern, Reed, in my office.” He called out.

Blinking Connor quietly got up from his seat and followed Gavin into the office, what was going on? Why did the captain call him and Gavin? Hank was usually his partner on most cases. Casting Hank a question look, the older man only shrugged his shoulders as Connor closed the door behind him. 

“Why did you call us in here?” Gavin asked, arms crossed over his chest.

Connor stood there with his hands clasped behind his back as he stood next to Gavin, awaiting what Fowler had to say to the both of them. 

“I’m assigning you both on a case.” Fowler said, hands steepled in front of him, Connor couldn’t believe his ears. What?

“What?!” Gavin spat, sounding incredulous. “You got to be fucking joking, right?!” He asked, placing his hands on the top of Fowler’s desk, meeting the Captains eyes. Looking for any sign this was all a joke, a fucked up one but a joke none the less.

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Fowler asked, leaning back in his seat. “There has been a murder at the Eden Club, the third one in a handful of months, and I want the two of you to investigate together.

“But I’m Hank’s partner he and I-” Connor started to protest.

“Hank has a few court hearings to attend to, otherwise you and him would be on this case.” Fowler cut off. 

“I can’t work with this asshole-” Gavin started, jabbing his finger at Connor, who merely scowled at him.

“Shut up, shut up, just shut your damn mouths!” Fowler shouted, silence falling over the room as the two young Detective’s shut up, looking to him.

Fowler sighed, he, like many people in the precinct knew of Connor and Gavin’s mutual dislike for each other. Hell, you’d have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to see it. But he had no other choice, they were the only ones available for the case. 

“Look I know you two don’t like each other but I need you to get the fuck over yourselves and work on this together. There is no other option.” He said, as they looked down at him.

Finally it was Connor who broke the silence. “I understand, Captain.” He said with a nod. Gavin reluctantly agreed, Fowler watched as the two of them filed out of the office, when-

“Reed.” He called out, stopping Gavin in his tracks, making him look over his shoulder at his Captain. “I want you to know if this case goes well I will consider you request for promotion.”

Gavin’s heart skipped a beat at that. A smile formed on his lips as he nodded, fine. He could play nice with Connor until this case was over, once it was over he could kiss the cheerful little fucker goodbye, and make his way up the ladder to Lieutenant. Yeah, he could suck it up and deal with Connor for a little bit. Watching Connor grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair he grabbed his own and shrugged it on before following after him. 

Silence continued to fall over the duo as Gavin slipped into the passenger seat, buckling up as Connor pulled out of the parking lot. “So,” Gavin started, as he peered out the window as the various buildings as they flew by. “What do you think happened?”

“What do you mean?” Connor asked. “There was a homicide.”

“Well, no shit.” Gavin spat, glaring at the man beside him. “Of course there was a homicide. But like what do you think happened?”

“We’ll find out when we get there.” Connor said.

Gavin sighed, and slumped down in his seat, saying nothing as the neon purple lights of the club came into view. Several patrol cars were parked outside the club, red and blue lights cutting through the night as the two Detective’s stepped out of the car. Gavin noted the coroners van was also here, waiting to take the body away. 

Standing perched outside the entrance were two police androids who stepped aside, allowing them in as Gavin looked around, a look of disgust on his face as he looked at the advertisements. “Sexiest androids in town?” he spat. “Man this club must be for losers who can’t get with real humans, I mean what’s the appeal?” he asked, as he stopped in front of one of the tubes, eyes scanning the dark skinned female android staring back at him seductively. A shiver running down his spine as he moved on. “Like they would rather fuck some emotionless doll who can’t feel anything than to disappoint a human or something.”

“You do realize we’re here to do a job, right?” Connor asked, looking to Gavin. “Not to question why people would frequent places like this?”

Gavin rolled his eyes as he moved to join Connor at the door that was marked off with crime scene tape. Gavin noted the manager stood dutifully by the door as Officer Chris Miller spoke with him. Gavin would have to get Connor to interview him when they were done here. 

Stepping into the room there were greeted by chaos, a table lay knocked over the lamp that once sat on it lay shattered on the floor. The bed its self was relatively untouched, but that wasn’t what drew their attention. In middle of the room lay the body of a man in his thirties, eyes staring up at them, mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Bruises formed on the mans neck indicating that he had been strangled. 

Gavin couldn’t help but chuckle as he crouched down beside the body, looking it over. Before looking up at Connor, a cruel smile on his lips. “So, what do you think?” he asked, gesturing to the body between them. “Think he forgot his safe word, and the plastic asshole got carried away?”

Connor scowled at his partner, as he crouched down on the other side of the body. “I think it’s more than that.” Connor said, picking up the victim’s hand in his gloved one he pointed to the bruises on the mans wrist. “Looks to me like our victim here got a little violent with one of the androids, and maybe it fought back.”

“Fought back?” Gavin parroted, looking up at Connor. “You mean the fucking thing went deviant?”

Connor worried at his bottom lip, and nodded. 

Gavin scoffed. “Well, if that’s the case then it seems our newly deviated android flew the coop, wouldn’t you agree? Though between you and me I think those assholes at Cyberlife need to do a better job at making sure these plastic pricks stay obedient to humans. None of this deviating and attacking humans bullshit. Mine ever starts acting up like that I’m using it as target practice.” Walking out of the room Gavin looked to Connor, as the other man stood up. “I’m going to look around, you talk to the manager. Maybe dickhead has an idea of what kind of android we’re looking for.”

Connor scowled at Gavin as the other man disappeared. But never less he did have a good point, pulling his notebook out of his jacket pocket he moved to where the manager was standing. 

“Evening Detective.” Chris greeted as he looked up as Connor approached. 

“Officer Miller.” Connor said, before turning to the manager.

Well, wasn’t this all peachy. The manager thought as he looked to the kid standing before him. Of all the cops that roamed around this stinkin’ city it had to be the one cop who frequented the Eden Club. Let alone the one that used the very android who killed their victim, and a guy he genuinely liked if he was being honest.

“What can you tell me about the victim?” Connor asked, straight to the point he liked that about the kid. 

He shrugged his shoulders, what was there to tell? The dead guy was like every other guy that came in here. Quiet, kept to himself, hell, the only problem he seemed to have was his tendency to constantly break some of his androids. Some of them so damaged they were beyond repair. And it seemed the kids favorite was going to be next until she deviated. 

“Not much, quiet guy, kept to himself. I think the only problem I had was him busting up a few of my androids.” He told him, watching as the kid scrawled something down in a worn leather notepad. 

Worrying at his bottom lip he looked around the floor, looking for any sign of that douche bag cop he was with, seeing no signs of him he placed a hand on Connor’s arm, making him look up at him. “Kid, I gotta say you got lucky, the android that did him in? The one you liked, the little blonde, plain looking one.”

The one he was going to trash in a few weeks, but the kid didn’t need to hear that. After all, when he did the kid would no doubt find himself a new favorite. “Looks like you dodged a bullet, kid. You could have been her victim.”

Was he hearing this right? Pen hovered above paper as he let the mans words sink in. Kara, she couldn’t, could she? Opening his mouth a few times he looked back at the scene, at the chaos before him. Could she have done this? Kill a human being like this? But then he recalled the managers words to him as the man walked off. The customer that was with Kara had a habit of breaking androids whenever he came here, maybe... she deviated to defend herself, to keep herself from being busted up.

Yes, that made sense, Connor told himself, as he tucked his notepad into his coat pocket once more. His eyes scanning the room, it all playing out for him in his head, Kara, sweet Kara fighting for her life against the bastard now laying dead on the floor. Kara, with fear in her eyes as the man advanced on her, until she wrapped her hands around his throat and squeezed. But the question on his mind now was, where was she now?

Could she be hiding in one of the rooms terrified about what was to come? Gnawing at his bottom lip Connor scanned the rooms, finding them empty, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around he came face to face with Gavin.

“Did you find anything?” Connor asked, as the door slid shut behind him.

“Yeah, pretty sure the android slipped out through the Employee’s Only door and is hiding out in the back, c’mon.” He said, jerking his thumb towards the door.

“How can you be so sure?” Connor asked, following after Gavin.

Opening the door, Gavin pointed to a blue smudge on the wall. “Looks like our android is bleeding. Left us a trail marker.” 

Connor looked to the blood, before turning to follow Gavin. She was hurt, she was bleeding. Connor thought as he followed Gavin into a large storeroom. Several androids stared at the two with lifeless eyes as the milled around the room. This would be a perfect place to hide, Connor thought as he peered in every corner. Seeing no sign of her, his gun in his hand as he moved throughout the room.

“It ain’t here.” Gavin spat, his lip curled as he scanned the android before him, hoping at least one of them would leap out and attack him. He had spent too much time here already, and having these freaking androids stare at him was making his skin crawl. Sighing Gavin turned towards the large door across from him and Connor, it lead to the back alley, it was the only place they hadn’t checked. And as far as Gavin knew it lead to a dead end. 

Opening the door the two peered out, a frustrated growl escaping Gavin’s lips as he found nothing, their suspect had escaped, leaving no sign of where they went. Gavin muttered a curse as he stamped his foot on the ground, frustrated as their case, something he thought would be open and close, something he thought would be easy just became a hunt of a deviant. As for Connor, he couldn’t be more relieved, though... worrying at his bottom lip he knew that now that she was out there things would be far from simple for Kara. As he turned to follow Gavin back into the club he silently wished Kara good luck where ever she was as he disappeared into the club.

***

She didn’t know how long she had been running for, she knew that since she had left the comfort of the club she had hid in the darkened alleys, keeping out of sight of prying eyes. Pain stabbed into her side as she continued to walk. Her systems constantly giving her warnings about her damaged biocomponents as she leaned against a grimy brick wall. The thin blanket she had managed to scrounge up in one of the dumpsters draped over her body, obscuring her from view, hiding the fact that she was a rogue Eden Club android roaming the streets unaccompanied. 

And now she had nowhere to go. Thunder rumbled overhead, indicating the coming storm that would be on her in moments, that was exactly what Kara needed after the day she had, sure she couldn’t get sick but who wanted to wander around soaked? Not her, she needed to find a place to stay, but with her damaged parts and the fact that she was obviously in dire need of blue blood that was easier said than done.

Blinking a few times Kara slumped against the wall, all energy sapped from her body, chin resting on her chest as exhaustion caught up with her. What was she going to do now? Where was she going to go? Kara didn’t have the answers as the darkness slowly rose up to swallow her whole, the blonde android slumping sideways to rest against a pile of garbage as she did so. 

Little did she now that as she lay there, she was being watched...

[nish-with-no-niche]

Open The Door....

Genre: Romance, Arranged marriage (sort of)au.

Pairing: Got7 Jaebeom x (sick'o mode!) OC

Characters:

Got7 Im Jaebeom Seungmae Meera (29 yrs) May-Ah(Meera's best friend, 30y/o, special appearance) Mrs. Seungmae (Meera's mom, 50y/o)

Summary:

" You're worried about that ? " (laughs heartily) "I've seen you in your worst condition, Meera....."

"She isn't too well."

"What happened?"

"Meera ate too much at last night's party."

Both Jaebeom and an apologetic Mrs. Seungmae were walking up the stairs to Meera's bedroom, meanwhile......

"Hn, this is the fourth time already...... Now! Where did I keep my towel? Must be on the sofa. Hmm, find it soon Meera or else hell will break loose."

With determination in her eyes, Meera decided to search downstairs and was going out of her room.

" Uff, I really need to hit the bathroo- aaaaah!"

Meera ran inside her bedroom and in a split second shut the door on Jaebeom's face.

"Jaebeom-ssi! What are you doing here?!?" Said Meera shocked at the unexpected visitor.

"Uh... May-Ah told me you were sick."

Aish that good-for-nothing, I'm gonna sue her. What do I do now? Hissed Meera feeling shameful of her present state.

"I'm really sorry Jaebeom-ssi, but now is not a good time. I seriously cant see you today."

"That's okay, this is why I came here. " Smiled Jaebeom. "Can you please let me in now?"

" No- please- I really look like a cave-man right now, trust me, you'll forget all thoughts about marrying me."

______________________

Jaebeom was chosen by Meera's parents for her Arranged marriage because she was very engrossed in her work as a software engineer and had previously turned down all prospective offers that came her way.

Naturally, Mrs Seungmae was worried that eventually her precious, hard working and eldest daughter who deserved the world would end up having no one by her side because of her reserved personality.

Meera didn't like the idea at first , and she still had a lot to get done, so Jaebeom proposed that they should date instead for a while to get to know each other and also so that Meera gets comfortable enough around him.

Meera was an all rounder according to him. She was stern but sweet , clumsy but admirable, simple but beautiful, tall, long hair, thoughtful- the list goes on. But more than anything, she was earnest. She was tailor-made for him and he wanted to be perfect for her.

"Ahahahahaha. You're worried about that?" laughed Jaebeom heartily.

"Meera , did you forget I've seen you in your worst state, when you were drunk?"

Mom :- "What? When did that-"

In a swift motion the door was opened and a cold hand pulled Jaebeom inside the room before Mrs. Seungmae could even digest the shocking revelation of her daughter being drunk.

Of all people. Her daughter.

Looking towards a clueless Jaebeom Meera pleaded in a hushed tone- "don't speak anymore."

"Mom? Didn't you have to go to Aunt Saeri's house? She's waiting."

"Oh, yes I know. But let me come back home then you see what happens to you. "Chastised her mom.

However, Jaebeom who was looking at the state of Meera's room thought- okay, she really is a mess right now.

______________________

"Well.... sit on the ,uh.... desk-chair for a while and- uh- let me clear up the- "

Meera ran to the bathroom to deposit the contents of her system.

She felt like vanishing from existence that very moment. In the room was her soon-to-be fiancè, all clad in gentlemanly aura, and here she was, a pathetic excuse of a woman, who has no elegance, no sophistication and her dignity going down the drain with every passing second.

Jaebeom came from behind and he gathered all the hair strands and held them behind her head all the while stroking her back gently.

At the sudden touch, Meera motioned with her left hand for him to go away but he didn't budge.

"We are in a relationship, it's natural for a man to do this for the girl."

After hearing those words,Meera couldn't say anything to him and let him help.

I'm not a kid , even my own mom didn't show me any sympathy when I was hurtling in the morning.

______________________

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that."

"It's okay,I didn't know your situation was this bad until i came here so I didn't bring any sick people's food." Said Jaebeom while cleaning her room.

Meera was resting on the bed , laying against the headrest, as Jaebeom instructed her to.

" 'Sick people's food', hehe" repeated Meera.

"You should go back now jaebeom-ssi,you must be having so much work."

" No worries, I don't have any work today. Plus, my sister is having a party at home. Aaaand it was very loud so I came to spend the day here."

"Oh no, you didn't have to take a day off because of- "

"Today is a Sunday, Meera."

"Right! right, ohoho, yeah..." flustered, Meera closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep.

Just then Meera's mom, chimed, "Meera? I'll be leaving now. Jaebeom-ssi, do you want me to give you some breakfast?"

"Oh, that's not required Ma'am, I already ate, although, I would love to have lunch- if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

" Why not? I'm sure Meera would love to have you too. Thankyou so much for taking care of her , I'll be back soon!"

_______________________

It was 2 pm now, Jaebeom was on his phone seated across from Meera on the bed, while said person was working on her laptop, now that her condition was a bit stable.

"Jaebeom-ssi?"

"Yes? "

"Do you always wear suits? Like, it's your day off, no? So shouldn't you be in shorts or t-shirts? " asked Meera looking at him curiously.

"I do, but I was going to my soon-to-be fiancee's house, I thought I had to look handsome and manly in front of your parents." Jaebeom smirked, playfully.

Amused by his answer Meera went back to her work , grinning.

"They'll confirm the engagement date by next month." Meera stated, eyes not leaving her computer screen.

"Yeah, I got to hear about it from my sister." After a hesitant moment later he spoke, "Meera?".

"Hmm?"

She seemed a bit engrossed in her work, a trait Jaebeom respected her for. Even though she wasn't in a good enough condition to work, that didn't deter her from completing the task she was committed to.

And he admired her for that .

"I have an office gathering, coming Thursday...... would you like to accompany me ? My colleagues wanted to meet you before the, you know..... engagement."

Meera looks up to find Jaebeom looking straight at her.

(Suddenly conscious) " Oh sure! I would love to meet them! Hopefully I'll become healthy by then.

With a small smile Jaebeom replied, "We're good then."

"Meera! I'm home." Announced Mrs. Seungmae.

"I feel okay enough to get up now. Shall we head downstairs for lunch?" Facing Jaebeom , Meera asked.

"After you." Replied Jaebeom cheekily.

Smiling, Meera announced, "we're coming mom, let's have lunch."

Drawing Credits : @19bottlesofdishsoap Kindly check out her tumblr and support her as she is starting out new in this field.

A/N: lastly if you are reading this then it means you must have read my fanfiction till the end , thankyou very much for that and you literally are the most precious person to me. Hope you enjoyed it ! :)

@g7net

[dimorphodon-defect]

Tow-Line Goes Haywire

((We open on Sideburn oogling a display model of - surprise! - next year's newest red sports car model.

While Sidburn is flirting (and singing) at the non-sentient car, he gets accosted by a brand new Autobot tow truck for idling in a 'no park' zone, wrapped up like a burrito in his tow cable, and towed aaaaall the way to an impound lot patrolled by Prowl.

Prowl is not very happy to see his big brother dragged in for violating parking rules.

Sideburn: You mean this loser's an Autobot?!

Tow-Line: I was thinking the same thing about you.

Um...isn't Prowl going to tell Tow-Line that it’s illegal to tow vehicles with the drivers inside?

THAT is NOT a legal towing method. Prowl, how could you let this happen?!

HE TOWED A PAIR OF TRICYCLES!

AND THE RENTAL CAR OF NEWLYWEDS FROM A CHURCH!

Dark Scream: First he towed away a couple of kids' bikes, then he messed up a honeymoon. It's almost as if he's already working for us!

Where did the Predacons even  GET an empty tractor trailer to use as a Trojan horse?

The Predacons' Left, Right, and Center lasers have so far been used as A) dangerously powerful weapons and B) MIB-style knock-out lights.

Pfft. They tied up Tow-Line in his own cable. That's kind of funny.

Slapper's big plan was to hypnotize Tow-Line with a coin on a string, but all he managed to do was put himself to sleep.

Gas Skunk's big plan is to tie Slapper's hypno coin to a metronome, and it goes just about as well.

Dark Scream forces a mysterious CD into Tow-Line (which you'd think he could stop, but okay) that brainwashes him into thinking the Autobots are evil, and he starts hunting them down...

....to tow them to the Predacons.

Oh well, at least he's very good at what he does.

Kelly I'm starting to think you ENJOY these crazy situations.

X-Brawn somehow yeeted his grappling hook against the laws of physics, shattered one of Tow-Line's windows, and smacked his dashboard hard enough to make him forget where the Predacons' brainwashing disk wanted him to bring the Autobots to.

HE JUST THREW X-BRAWN DOWN A GIANT PIT AT A CLOSED-OFF POWER PLANT. What the heck is that pit even for and wHY ISN’T IT BLOCKED OFF??

Sideburn got snatched up while criticising a yellow sports car display on its paint job.

Aaaand now Sideburn's in the pit. At least he can keep X-Brawn company.

Meanwhile, the Predacons are waiting impatiently for Tow-Line on the other side of the city, wondering where the heck could be taking their new minion so long.

MEANWHILE MEANWHILE, TOW-LINE IS TOWING RAPIDRUN NOW. HOW CAN A TRAIN VIOLATE PARKING LAWS?!

All these Autobots are just letting Tow-Line drag them around, as if they can't just transform and snap his tow cable.

Prowl just watched Tow-Line drive by with a fucking TRAIN on his roof, and just went "Huh, maybe I need to get my optics checked."

I never noticed before but RapidRun is at LEAST twice the size of Sideburn and X-Brawn.

Prowl parks himself in the middle of an empty intersection as bait to lure Tow-Line in, and - of course - it works like a charm.

I love that Optimus is so incredibly involved in his soldiers' well-being that, when he sees his newest recruit acting strange and assaulting his fellow soldiers, his first question isn't "How could you?" but "What's wrong?"

SINCE WHEN DID OPTIMUS HAVE SHOULDER MISSILES??

Pfft! Prowl and Optimus are just carrying Tow-Line through the streets in his vehicle mode. He's not even tied up!

Optimus reaches in through Tow-Line's cab and pops out the weird, glowing brainwashing disk, and just like that, Tow-Line's back to normal.

Meanwhile, RapidRun, X-Brawn, and Sideburn have stacked themselves up to try and climb out of the pit, but alas, they are just a few feet too short.

RapidRun doesn't look like he's having too much fun on the bottom there.

Optimus, Prowl, and Tow-Line arrive just in time to pull their friends out of the pit, and square up with the Predacons - oh! And Megatron, too! I'd wondered where he'd been this episode!

How old is Tow-Line?? His voice sounds like he's meant to be older, but the way he's portrayed as knowing so little about Earth/Autobot ethics/etc. makes me think he's baby.

You'd think Skybyte would have learned by now that trying to 1v6 the Autobots is a very bad idea.

"Sometimes doing the right thing means having a little compassion and understanding." Ahh yes, it's time for the Moral of the Day.

Prowl is enjoying being sprayed down with a garden hose with the same enthusiasm that my dog has for being scratched behind the ears.

Towline: I feel for ya, buddy, but how would it look if I let a police car get away with breaking the law? No parking means-

Prowl: -means no parking, I know!

The episode ends on Prowl getting hauled away on a legitimate parking violation, while Koji just stands there on the sidewalk with a garden hose, confused af.))

[kate-sinclaire]

moving on (Levi x mc)

Book:
 Mother of the Year Pairing: 
(Levi x mc) (Jessica Day) Rating:
 Mature; ends with a sex scene.

TAGS: @furiouscloddonutpeanut

Summary: Jessica Day goes to clean up yet another mess left by her ex-husband after the confrontation between him and Levi. I won’t say more than that because that would be spoiling. Enjoy :)

Disclaimer: All characters minus my own belong to Pixelberry Studios. Jessica Day is primarily my own character, but she also has ties to PB as well. The image does not belong to me, it was found here.

Author’s Note: This takes place in Chapter 5 after the Levi and Guy confrontation. It literally broke my heart that MC didn’t stand up for him further or go talk to him afterward. So, here it is. I’m going to be making this a series, so the prequel to this chapter will be written next. Of course, this isn’t a canon scene, and the other ones that I’ll be writing likely won’t be, either.

--

Jessica stared at her ex-husband with what could only be described as pure hate. “What?” he asked, glancing at his girlfriend for support. She didn’t give it, but rather looked at Jessica with a soft amount of sympathy (which was almost worse).

“That wasn’t nice, Dad,” Zoey chimed in, smoothing out her dress self-consciously. “Levi is cool. He taught us how to make Ruga-aruga-roogo-” she paused and took in a breath. “He taught us how to make his grandma’s cookies. And he calls me Rocket.” Jessica smiled proudly, pulling her daughter in a gentle side hug.

A flicker of rage darted across his features. “You let him near my daughter?”

“How about you go inside and work on your homework?” Jessica suggested coldly, flashbacks of all the angry arguments and screaming matches replaying vividly in the back of her mind.

Zoey nodded in understanding and disappeared behind the door. Jessica’s eyes flashed to Guy. “You’ve got some nerve showing up after all this time and lecturing me on parenting,” she snapped, closing the distance between them.

“Jessica-”

“No, you are not going to interrupt me,” her finger jabbed at his chest, the anger of the past four years bubbling to the surface. “And you are not going to regard Zoey as your daughter now when you were developing a fucking food app while she was crying herself to sleep every night wondering what she did wrong for her daddy to leave her.”

“You are being-”

“I told you not to interrupt me,” she practically growled, staring directly into those emotionless eyes; the same eyes that had so obviously enjoyed toying with her and beating down her confidence day after day over a span of years. The same ones that watched as Zoey attached herself to his leg, begging him to stay. “You may have been able to control me when we were together, but you sure as hell don’t get to control me now. I will see who I want when I want however I want, especially when they make my daughter happy. Is that clear?”

“You need to-”

“Is. That. Clear?” She was fuming, her hands were shaking, and she was sure that her face was a tomato red, but she didn’t care. Part of her wanted to murder him right here in this hallway, but then she’d go to prison. Mom’s don’t have rights in prison.

“Crystal,” he seethed.

“Good, now get out,” she ordered, but not before looking at Faye and plastering on a friendly smile. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You too,” she repeated, clearly shocked and a little afraid. “Come on, sweetie...let’s go...” Watching as they walked away, Jessica slowly opened the door from behind her and slid herself in, her heart pounding hard against her chest.

She tapped on Zoey’s shut bedroom door and let herself in. She was doing homework. Of course, she was. “Hi pretty girl,” she murmured, leaning on the

Zoey’s eyes flashed over, and she offered a nervous smile. “Are you mad at me?”

“What?” Jessica sat down on the edge of Zoey’s bed and rested her hand on her knee. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I was happy that Daddy came back,” she replied, setting her textbook aside. Guilt welled up in Jessica’s chest.

“Sweetheart, I know you love your Dad. And I know you love me. Just because you love both of us doesn’t mean you love me any less, does it?” Zoey shook her head and swiveled beside her, wrapping her arms around her mom’s waist.

“I just don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t,” Jessica promised. “I will never ever be mad at you for loving your father. Just because I’m angry with him doesn’t mean that I expect you to feel the same way.”

“I love you, Mama.”

“I know you do, and I love you back,” she smiled, brushing a strand of Zoey’s hair out from her eyes. “Now, you finish your homework and treat yourself to a cupcake when you’re done. I’m going to have Alma come over so I can see if Levi’s okay.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Daddy was really mean to him.”

At least they agreed on that. “Yes, he was. I’ll be back soon, okay?” After letting Alma in and thanking her profusely, Jessica knocked on Levi’s door. It took a minute before the guitar music stopped, and the mechanisms of the door began to shift.

“Hey,” Jessica offered weakly.

“You didn’t have to check up on me,” he sighed, clearly embarrassed with the situation. “I’m fine.”

“Maybe I didn’t come to check up on you,” she countered with a smirk. He raised an eyebrow. “What? Maybe I came to fix your oven this time.”

“Do you even know how to do that?” he chuckled, the light coming back into his brown eyes.

“Ah, you got me,” she grinned. “Can I come in?”

“It’s a mess,” he warned but stepped aside anyway. “Do you want anything? Coffee? Tea? Uh...” he paused, checking a relatively empty cupboard. “Whiskey?”

“Yes, that. So much that,” she replied, taking a seat on a barstool. He nodded and slid over a glass for her and then pulled out one for himself. She winced as she allowed the fiery liquid to coat her throat. “I heard you playing.”

“Yeah? I’m sorry,” he scoffed.

“Don’t do that,” she murmured. His eyes gazed behind her, the light gone again. She placed a hand over his, and he looked over, surprised. “Don’t let that walking talking douchebag get to you. He’s destroyed way too much confidence in his life already.”

“Thanks, Day,” he replied, running his hand through his hair.

“Zoey stuck up for you, you know,” Jessica mentioned. His expression softened as a smile tempted his lips. “Said that you’re real cool.” Aaaand there it was. It sent butterflies in her stomach, something she hadn’t felt in years.

“I mean, I am pretty cool,” he laughed, taking another sip of his drink. “She’s a sweet kid. Nothing like her dad.”

“I like to think she takes after me,” she winked, prompting another smile.

“I think that seems the most likely,” he agreed, his eyes gazing into hers before glancing down at their still entwined hands. Every logical part of her told her to pull back, to back off, but she held herself there and watched as Levi ran the back of his thumb over her knuckles. “So, you heard me play.”

“I heard you play,” she confirmed, her eyes watching as he made his way from behind the kitchen counter to only inches away, his hand still holding hers.

“It sounds a hell of a lot better when there isn’t a wall between you and the guitar,” he murmured, his eyes glancing from Jessica to the bedroom. Her heart raced at the subtextual offer and she bit down on her bottom lip in a vain attempt to contain herself.

“Then what are you waiting for?” she whispered, allowing him to wrap her arms around his neck as he lifted her up from the stool and pressed her thighs to his waist. For a moment they just breathed each other in, taking in each other’s gazes and the heat of their emotions.

And then he kissed her. Hard.

His tongue explored and sought, and his spare hand ran under her shirt, feeling, and molding. She let out a moan as he pinned her to the wall, his lips tracing her neck urgently and passionately. She felt him harden underneath her as his hand moved down her abdomen.

“Bedroom,” she whispered. “Please.”

He chuckled a little and obeyed, sweeping the pamphlets of music and his...guitar? Did he just toss his guitar on the ground? Before she could inquire further, he slid off her underwear and eagerly made his way up her thighs, kissing and sucking. She let out another moan, guiding his head as he worshipped her.

“L-Levi,” she stammered, kissing him aggressively as he moved to her lips. Somehow her dress and everything else was off, and she was on top, taking off his shirt and fumbling with the buckle of his pants.

“Oh Jessica,” he groaned, flipping over and quickly putting on a condom. “You’re so beautiful, oh my God.”

“More,” she begged, unable to control herself as the pleasure built up. Her hands roamed his ab muscles, and he shuddered. “Please.”

“Jessica,” he purred as he filled her, running his tongue along her neck. She shook, her nails scraping his back which only sent him over the edge. “God, yes.”

“Levi,” she murmured/whimpered.

--

When it was all said and done, Jessica lay wrapped in Levi's warm embrace. She glanced up at him, and he smiled sleepily as he ran his fingers up and down her arm. "That was..."

"Amazing," he finished, kissing the top of her head. "It was amazing."

"It was," she agreed. "Didn't hear much guitar playing though."

He chuckled. "Maybe another time."

"I'd like that," she replied, feeling at peace for the first time in a long time.

"Me too.”

[demonsofhunting]

All My Sins - Chapter 6

Pairing: priest!Cas x demon!Dean

Summary: Castiel is tired. After a night of restless walking and nothing but pain, his steps are leading him to the town's church…where everything began…

Warnings: lots of angst, our poor Cas is suffering aaaaaahhhh

Words: about 1500

A/N: Welcome to part 6 of this series! With a 'Keep reading' wow! *proud* Another pretty dark chapter - enjoy the angst, guys! XD There will be fluff coming in the future...but now, we'll have to get through some rough times...I'm so sorry, I enjoy this way too much! XD

( Btw, I will include another familiar character in the story from now on, so...let me know what you think! I'm super excited!  )

Anyway, I hope you'll like it! Enjoy! <3

Catch up here ( Masterlist ) :D

 Castiel Novak is standing at the edge, ready to fall off. His limbs are numb, his heart is cold and broken because of all the pain that pulses through his body. Emotional pain. I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm...I'm... He can't even finish a damn thought as his feet are leading him through the entrance doors of the town's church. My church. His hand is stroking over the cold, thick wall. He walks into the big nave, raising his head, carefully, to examine the things that are in front of him. He hoped that the church would be empty at that late time of night...or early time of morning...he doesn't even know. But well, it's almost empty. Just a lonely woman is sitting in one of the rows in front of the altar. She bows her head, maybe she's praying. Castiel doesn't care. He just makes his way over to her, and leans against the old wood of the bench that she is sitting on. "Excuse me," he mutters, "Would you mind to include me into your prayer? I...I don't think that God will hear me, if I try it myself." His voice sounds hoarse, and it's dark in here, so the priest is pretty sure that the woman doesn't recognize him and his filthy clothes. She turns around, shooting him an angry look. "Hey, don't interrupt me!" she hisses, narrowing her dark eyes in annoyance. She's pretty, Cas notices. She has brown hair that curls around her shoulders and back, softly. Her face has the shape of a heart, and her red lips are pressed together, firmly. "Oh, I'm sorry," Castiel back off, his shoulders are falling down, as he lets out an unsteady breath. He turns around, ready to go. In fact, he has no idea why his steps have carried him in here. I just buried a damn body and something that seems to be the murder weapon in the woods. I cleaned Dean's house. There's blood in my car, still, not to mention my wet clothes, because of my weak attempt to wash it off... I drove home, but I...I just couldn't sleep, so I started to walk through the night, searching for the forgiveness I don't deserve. I haven't found Dean, no matter how hard I tried. I looked everywhere. I'm tired. I'm hungry. And I'm in absolute desperation. "Hey!" a voice behind his back shouts, making him wince a little. He turns around slowly, his gaze landing on the young woman which is now standing, facing him. She tilts her head, and says: "I'm the one who has to apogise. I was afraid. I thought that you would be some kind of creep...happens to me all the time." Cas smiles, weakly. "I didn't mean to scare you...I...I'm just so...done," he tells the other, shrugging. She nods, understanding. "I know what you're talking about. Everyone has to deal with rough times...actually, that's why I'm here. I could use a little distraction." She steps forth, smiling, until her sweet breath strokes over Cas' cheek. He blinks, and doesn't know how to react. What is she up to? It looks like she's trying to kiss me - "You come here often, Father?" she whispers with a wide grin. She looks up and down on the priest, observing every inch of his body. Castiel shifts, uncomfortably, "Wait! You know?! How - " he begins in panic, but gets interrupted by her calm, dark voice. There is no good in it. Not anymore. "What happened to you? What's that on your clothes? Blood? Don't tell me that this was your only attempt to wash it off," she scoffs, tilting her head in interest, "Didn't work out well, huh?" The priest swallows, his body tensed in fear. What does she want from me?! Who is this woman?! He's pretty sure that he hasn't seen her before. His thoughts are racing as he finally manages to speak again: "That's...that...it wasn't my fault, it...it just...damn it!" He cries out, making a face in pain. "Please," he stutters, "Please don't tell anyone, I'll - " "Shush," she mutters, quietly, and he stops begging. The woman smiles, widely. "I won't tell anyone," she says. Cas sighs in relief, ballng his fists: "Oh, thank you so much! I - " "...but you have to take me out," she adds, seriously. The priest hesitates. "W - what?" he bursts out, worried. Oh, nonononononono! What am I doing here?! I can't do this! I'm - He's about to tell her that he already has a boyfriend, but then he realises that this would mean to betray God and his commandments in front of another person while standing in a church, and he bites his lip. "I can't," he says, weakly, "I'm a priest, I'm not allowed to have a romantic relationship..." "Well, you're not allowed to kill a person either, I think," the young woman contradicts, raising an eyebrow, "See?" Castiel knows that he has lost this fight. He nods. I'm so tired. "Great. Here, my phone number," she purrs, writing something on his palm with a pen. He looks down, already feeling the tears coming up. Meg Masters says the note, and under it there are a few numbers that are scribbled on his pale skin. Meg chuckles. "You'll get used to being damned, trust me. It's not that bad," she hums, flipper her hair over her shoulder, "Don't forget to call me, honey!" she yells, leaving the church. As the door closes behind her, Castiel can't help but cry. This déjà-vu is way too much for his broken heart.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Later, as he's finally lying in his own bed, staring at the ceiling with swollen eyes, he begins to realise what's happening. That's it. God is punishing me. Suddenly, it all makes sense. "Damn it," Castiel whispers. His throat is sore from screaming into a pillow for a whole hour before actually going to bed. His limbs hurt, oh, they hurt so much. But they're nothing compared to his heart that is nothing but an aching point in his chest. He's afraid and worried. Worries that are all circling about one single person. Dean Winchester. The priest closes his eyes in despair. In this moment, the doorbell rings. It's a loud noise that cuts through the silence, brutally. And suddenly, there is energy pumping through the priest's veins. What if...what if Dean is standing at my doorstep, waiting for me to let him in? Cas gets up to his feet, he doesn't even think about throwing on other things than the clothes that he wears while sleeping.  He tiptoes over to the door, breathing in, deeply. His chest already feels like there are thousands of butterflies in it, flying around in excitement. He grabs the doorknob, opening the door with a fast gesture. "Dean, I -" he already begins, but hesitates as his gaze lands on the person that is standing in front of him. A person in uniform. Suddenly, his blood runs cold. No! Everything threatens to black out as he stares at the policeman that is looking at him with a serious expression. "Mr. Novak?" the man says, clearly, "We would like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay." Okay, calm down. You can get through this. "Oh," Cas whispers, and immediately forces himself to speak up, "That's...interesting. What happened? It's around five o'clock in the morning!" He tries his best to relax his body, leaning against the door frame, uncomfortably. "I want to talk about a man named Dean Winchester. I heard that you are a friend of his," the policeman tells the other. The priest has to lean his whole weight at the frame as his knees are going weak. Definitely not the good kind of weak that Dean makes me feel. He gives his best to stay strong, but this words are hitting him hard. The butterflies are gone. The empty darkness is back at it. Again. "What happened to him?" he whispers, his eyes wide and filled with fear. I feel like I can't breathe. Dean... The policeman looks to the ground. He seems strangely guilty as he answers: "Nothing. Well, not exactly...it's...it's complicated. I would like you to come with me, at first. We can't talk about the case in front of a doorstep. Would you please accompany me to the police station?" And that's the moment when Castiel Novak breakes down. The last thing he sees before everything goes black is the surprised face of the policeman who has to watch him collapse to the ground.

Dean...please...what the hell did you do...?

( A/N: CHAPTER SEVEN <3 )

Aaaand that was chapter six! Thank you so much for reading and if you would like to leave a comment or reblog this shit, I will love you forever! <3

Tag lists are open!

Destiel/Forever Tags: @adoptdontshoppets @rebeloftheseas @ablavalba @smodernlife @ignis-glaciesque @certaindeanwinchesterforcastiel @xsghn @trenchcoatsandfreckles @helpmeluci @legendary-destiel @leahslovelylibrary

"All My Sins" Tags: @emodestielshipper @emumag @waywardtricksterangel @didntwanderstillgotlost @angel-e-v-a @burnigontheceiling

[angelkurenai]

Couple of questions if anybody wants to answer and an update... sorta?

And that’s a wrap. Finally. On my exams. For now, cause September seems to be right around the corner waiting with more exams. *sigh* Go to university they said. It will be fun they said. Only fun thing is the science memes I come across tho. but no complains tbh. Plus, watched Boy Erased today and oh my goodness I wanted to cry. Incredible, truly incredible and at the same time horrible to think that it’s true. But this is not about it. This is more of an update as to what I plan to do:

Concerning those who asked if there will be a second part to my most recent imagine that goes like “Imagine Dean walking in on you sleeping next to Sam after you’ve had a nightmare and getting angry and jealous because of his feelings for you. Only thing is you don’t understand because you’re only friends with Sam.” then yes there will be one. The imagine itself was kind of part of a series which I will start uploading this summer and hopefully finish writing too. I liked it and thought it could stand on its own as a small imagine, didn’t think you’d like it so much tho, but whatever the case I will write a continuation. 

Kinda unsure though, should it be like a Sam x Reader besides a Dean x Reader one? If you want to let me know please!

On other news, there will be a series coming and it will be an AU and yes it will be SPN and even more specifically with Dean. It’s finally time that I did upload that cause I’ve had like 11 chapters waiting. It is a detective au and the main big bad will be Amara, as I have based it off season 11. However there is a question:

I may have named her Amara but I’ve based her character on many more female characters so I wanted to ask would you want her to look like Amara of SPN or Katherine of TVD (aka Nina Dobrev)? Would love to know about this too!

Aaaand let’s not forget that I’m currently dying over my two new dads and obssessing over X-Men and have so many ideas about fics with them. However I’ve been writing all about Marvel lately and I feel like I should give a bit more love to SPN lately. Plus, don’t know how many people would be interested this time to see those imagines so (for the movies I keep rewatching)...

Based of X-Men: First Class, Days of Future Past, Apocalypse and Dark Phoenix, would you guys want any fics or nah? Again, whoever wants to could lemme know!

Anyhow, that’s all for today. Hopefully I’ll get into a schedule very soon! For now I’ll go daydream and... watch vides about murders.

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 28

You wake up in the hospital, but the danger is far from over.

Pairing: Yoongi x (female) Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Genre: Fluff, angst

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“We need to leave soon.”

“Five more minutes!”

“They can’t keep our location private for too long.”

“Y/n, wake up!”

“Dude, that’s not gonna work.”

“Ngh...” you smack your lips, wincing at the pain in your head.

“Well, what d’you know. It did work.”

“Guys...?” you murmur, and the seven members of BTS crowd into your field of vision. You look around– you’re attached to an IV and heart rate monitor– did you really land yourself in the hospital again? Just because you kinda-sorta fainted? Unfair.

“Y/n!” Jimin sings.

“I thought you’d died,” Jungkook says, and Jin snorts.

“We’re so glad you’re okay,” Namjoon says, rolling his eyes at Jungkook.

“The doctor said she’d be fine,” Yoongi says.

“Y/n is my favorite and if anything had happened to her I would kill everyone in this room and then myself,” Hoseok announces, clasping your hand.

You giggle. “Y’all are all chaotic good.”

Taehyung winks at you through wire-rimmed glasses. “Just another of our charms.”

“We should probably leave soon though,” Namjoon says regretfully. “You’re not supposed to have this many visitors at once. Besides, we can’t have people knowing we visited you.”

“I understand,” you reply. Your vision goes fuzzy for a second before refocusing. “Thanks for visiting, guys. I appreciate it.”

“Come over sometime,” Jimin pleads. “It’s been so long.”

“He’s right. Let’s have a party next Saturday,” Jin suggests. “Y/n, you have to be there, okay?”

“Mm... whatever you say.” you say, tapping your fingers.

“You should sleep,” Yoongi advises as the other six bid you farewell and file out of your hospital room.

“I’m fine,” you say, blinking hard, nervously rubbing your Starry Night necklace. “Did I slow down filming? What happened?”

“Nothing. Well, I mean, Avery wasn’t happy. She said to stay on schedule we’d have to use the take we already got.”

You lean back against your pillow. So no more takes where you have to kiss Yoongi. Good. Fine. Awesome.

“We filmed whatever we could without you and then I came over here. The guys were wondering why I’d missed dinner–”

He missed dinner?

“–and they insisted on coming to visit. That was about an hour ago.”

“What time is it?”

Yoongi checks his watch. “Nearly 9pm.”

You’d arrived on set at eight this morning. You slowed down the entire film schedule with your antics.

You bury your face in your hands. “Aah, I’m so embarrassed.” Why did they bring you here? A cup of water onset would’ve gotten you through the day.

“Hey, hey– it wasn’t your fault,” Yoongi says firmly. “The doctor said you were dehydrated and fatigued; it’s a miracle you were even standing up as long as you were. Have you really been so careless?”

You press your lips together. “I’m just busy.” He, of all people, should understand. You’re not only working on Moon Over the Sea, you’re also filming for advertisements and posing for photoshoots that Lisa’s set up for you. You’re doing your schoolwork and on top of that you’re taking extra acting lessons, and still trying to find time to write.

“How many hours of sleep have you been getting?” Yoongi presses.

You bristle. “None of your business.” Who is he to criticize? Hasn’t he collapsed from exhaustion before? So have Jungkook, and Jimin, and probably the others as well. Isn’t it nothing more than a sign of dedication to your craft?

“Y/n, come on...” Yoongi sighs. “You can’t keep telling me to take care of myself when you’re acting this way.”

“I said I’m fine, Yoongi.” He needs to take care of himself because people actually care about him. Besides, doesn’t he understand that you need to do this? That you need to be successful? This is your chance. “It’s just a way of life. Chill out.”

“It’s not a ‘way of life’,” Yoongi says, making air quotes. “It’s killing you!”

You narrow your eyes. “Hypocrite.”

Yoongi scoffs in disbelief. “I can’t believe this. You’re in the hospital, y/n, and you’re here because how you were living wasn’t healthy, and it’s not sustainable. Trust me of all people– you can’t keep this up, and it’s going to kill you.”

“Whatever, Yoongi.” He doesn’t understand.

He leans back before standing up. “You know what? Fine. Do whatever you want– I’m leaving.”

Something wells up inside you– something dark, and loud, and stubborn. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

Something in your heart aches as you see him rise, see the door close behind him. But he’s wrong. People hate you because you’re not famous; you can tell that much from the comments online. You’re not famous, you’re not worthy, you don’t deserve them.

You have to change that. You have to work hard, harder than ever, improve, perform well, and show that you are worthy. You do deserve what you have, because you’ve earned it.

Shaking your head, you turn your back to the door and close your eyes.

Minutes or hours later, there’s a knock and the door swings open to reveal Lisa.

“Y/n!” She cries, flinging herself across your bed. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m great, Lisa,” you laugh at the worry in her eyes. “C’mon, you know me. I’m fine.”

“I was so worried, y/n-ie,” Lisa says. “I thought you were going to die or something!”

Why does everyone keep saying that?

“Lisa, I’m really okay–” you begin, before there’s another knock at the door and a doctor enters, holding a clipboard.

“Ms. l/n?” She consults the monitors and checks your pupils, pallor, and blood pressure. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I could leave right now,” you say honestly. After an accidental day of rest, you’re ready to go home. Besides, you’re keeping a close eye on your budget and you can’t afford to spend the night in the hospital. You’re feeling antsy– you wanna leave now.

“Lucky for you then– I need you to fill out some paperwork, but you’ll be able to leave once that’s completed if you don’t want to stay overnight.”

“Oh, great!” Lisa squeals, clapping her hands before grabbing her purse. “Hey, y/n, I’m gonna get going but text me when you get home, okay?”

You smile weakly, blinking sudden spots out of your eyes. “For sure.”

“Love ya! Be safe~”

“Love you too.”

With a flip of her hair and a wink, Lisa’s gone.

“Nice friend you’ve got there,” the doctor remarks as she makes a set of notes on her clipboard.

“Yeah, she’s great.”

“Sign here, here, and here, and fill out this information regarding your medical history, and you’ll be free to leave. Get plenty of rest and make sure to stay hydrated.”

You follow the doctor’s directions and soon you’re back on your feet outside the hospital. You think for a second about calling a cab, but your apartment is nearby and you could use a walk. Snug in your thick jacket, you stroll at a leisurely pace by one of the few rivers in Seoul. 

It’s a quiet night– the streets are empty, save for a group of giggling, tipsy young women behind you.

“Oh, oh, ooh-woah, you can’t stop me loving myself~” you sing to yourself, kicking a pebble into the shallow river below.

Behind you, your sharp ears pick up muffled whispers.

“That’s her, that’s y/n!”

You need to suppress a smile. Already being recognized? A warmth spreading throughout your chest and you fall silent in order to eavesdrop effectively.

“Are you sure?”

“I know it’s her, now hurry!”

The warmth suddenly turns to ice. The footsteps behind you have picked up their pace, and when you turn around you see the group of young women staring at you as they power walk in your direction.

Okay, this seems not ideal, this seems very not ideal, something is wrong, do you run, should you run?

“Can I help you?” you ask nervously, walking backwards. They’re not outwardly threatening, but your instincts tell you to keep your distance.

“You’re l/n y/n, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, why?” You don’t have enough money to be kidnapped and you’re not relevant enough to be murdered. What’s going on?

“We wanted to deliver a message.” The woman in the front, clearly the leader, sports dyed red hair and a sweet smile– it’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “A message from the rest of us: you’re not welcome.”

“You’re not welcome,” the other three chorus creepily. Did they rehearse this?

“You’re not worthy of Yoongi, or the rest of BTS.” The redhead’s tone turns cold. “Get away from them, and stay away. Understood?”

You nearly laugh. “Are you threatening me?” The concept is so utterly ridiculous that you can’t take them seriously. The mean comments online were one thing, but this is crazy.

“Consider it a warning,” the redhead replies, and you snort.

“Okay, warning received.” You turn back homewards and wave. “Thanks, ladies.”

You don’t get the chance to take another step before you hear a snarl– “Get her.”

Aaaand now you run. At her words you bolt, not looking where you’re going, just trying to get away, away, away, your shoes pound the ground as blood roars in your ears and you run fast and faster, your breath comes in gasps and your legs feel like rubber you’re scared so scared keep running you can hear them behind you, the noise barely there above your own frantic heartbeat and–

WHAM.

Something slams into you and the wind is knocked out of your lungs. You fall forward, scraping your palms on the cold asphalt to break your fall. “W-oah!”

You roll onto your back in time to see the redhead leap towards you. You scramble out of the way and her feet land heavily where your chest was only a second before. Another girl lunges, her hands closing around your throat and you choke, struggling, clawing at her hands, trying to pry yourself away from her iron grip. You fight so fiercely that at last she lets go of your throat, her fingers trailing downwards to loop around your Starry Night necklace.

“N-no!” you gasp, rearing back and kicking the girl hard in the shin. Not that.

“Augh!” The blow to her leg throws her weight out from under her and the girl collapses. With a quick, painful jerk the chain to which she’s clinging breaks and the necklace is flung off somewhere into the darkness.

No.

“Leave me alone!” you rasp. “I haven’t done anything wrong!”

“You talked to BTS. You used them. You can’t do that,” the redhead explains calmly. The way she stalks towards you brings to mind a tiger on the hunt. “They’re ours, see?”

You gasp for breath, stumbling backwards towards the river as she advances. “They’re not yours. They’re their own people. You’re delusional.”

Her eyes turn predatory. “And you’re dead.”

You see it in slow motion, her arms shooting out and connecting solidly with your chest, the strong shove forcing you backwards– you teeter by the river’s edge, your arms windmilling, your mouth open in a perfect ‘O’ as you grasp at air. Your shoes don’t have enough traction to keep you grounded on the smooth cement and you can feel yourself slipping, slipping.

The last thing you see is the redhead waving a cheerful goodbye as you fall, plunging into the freezing, churning water.

[swanimagines]

Family

Request:  OK OK, look. After some thinking and re-listining to the Watch_Dogs OST I thought about something for Wrench. I am bad at writing stuff sooooo, Reader being J.B's (aka Defalt) little sister and after his death she goes to San Francisco and joins DedSec and eventually gets into a relationship with Wrench. Nobody knows she's Defalt's little sister but someday Wrench finds her crying bc she misses her brother and ahhHHHHH DEFALT AND WRENCH ARE MY FAVS I LOVE THEM AND I NEED SOME ANGST

Fandom: Watch Dogs 2, Wrench x fem!reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death

Word count: 1,615

A/N: They’ve been together with Wrench for a while on this imagine, because otherwise this would have been too long (like 5k words) :D (+ I hate writing scenes where people get to know each other, they always end up being super cringy). Also, this is my first time writing Wrench (or anyone from Watch Dogs), btw. Aaaand I haven’t finished Watch Dogs: Bad Blood (I’m stuck at the beginning of it, guards always take me down before I can reach the back door), so I had to snoop from the depths of the internet how did Defalt die. So sorry if I have understood it wrong.

---

“Y/N, she ain’t deserving you. (¬_¬)  We’ll meet tomorrow morning sis, you can tell me everything then. ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ”

J.B’s last message to you. You had just broken up with your best friend, since she had stolen money from your drawer for a year, so she could get drugs.

“Don’t worry J-Brother Bear, there’s nothing to tell. She betrayed me and I cut our friendship off, that’s it. But yeah, you owe me a donut anyway, so you can take me somewhere nice tomorrow c:”

He never replied on that. You didn’t know if he was dead already when he received your message. Tears reached your eyes and you sniffled quietly.

You hadn’t known he was Defalt. If you knew that, you would've stopped him. He did things that weren’t like... J.B had done them. What you heard from the news, it was not J.B. Defalt was nothing like J.B. J.B wouldn’t have killed anyone. Sure, he acted weird sometimes but he wasn’t a maniac. Defalt was a maniac, he had died laughing like he was insane.

And when you had a call that your brother is dead and is found guilty to be Defalt, you didn’t believe it. But when you saw him, you somehow just knew. His h/c hair was messy on his face when he laid in the autopsy room, pale and cold. Still, he looked like he was sleeping, so you brushed his hair out of his face.

You still heard the doctors whispering at each other as you were saying quiet goodbyes to your brother. 

“He has been suffocated from his own poison gas. No, I don’t know how he got suffocated by it. Leak from the pipes, maybe. Ahh, yes... his neon lamp had collapsed by his door, preventing him to exit the room.”

You smiled sadly a little bit at J.B, before you placed a kiss on his forehead, letting a single tear fall on his cheek from your eyes.

“Goodbye, J-Brother Bear.”

Since then, you had moved to San Francisco from Chicago just two months after your brother’s death. You had changed your last name to L/N from Markowicz, since you didn’t want to associate your last name with him. Everyone knew who J.B was and what he had done. Nobody would believe if you told them that J.B was a good guy. Everyone would despise you if you told them you were his little sister.

And now J.B. probably would’ve hated you. You had joined DedSec a few months back. A hacker group he had been trying to eliminate. Your main reason for joining was your boyfriend.

Wrench. To be honest, you were a bit creeped out by him when you first met him at the cafeteria, since his personality and humor weren’t hitting on you at first. But soon enough, you had warmed up at him. You had developed a crush on him. And weirdly enough, he liked you too. Of course, he was the not-so-typical boyfriend in your relationship, he liked to cling on you and talk about all kinds of sci-fi movies until everyone around him begged him to stop. He sent you at least twenty memes a day and said gross and sexual things to you almost every day. At first, you were flustered about his way of talking when you dated, but you got used to it pretty quickly. But if you were feeling down, his whole personality seemed to change and he was really gentle towards you.

He had introduced Marcus, Sitara, Josh, and Ray to you. And you had loved them at first sight. So you had decided to join DedSec eventually, because, besides Wrench, Sitara got you to agree in joining the crew. She saw your skills, you were great at art and video editing. And now you were doing all the videos for DedSec and did digital art for DedSec app. 

All was well. You had a family again.

That was, before you heard Ray talk of J.B to Sitara.

“Poor bastard... tried to kill me. I didn’t want to kill him first, but he gave me no choice. It was either me or him and he had terrorized the city under the command of someone, for getting money to live. I don’t know if he had any friends in civil life, or family, but...”

That was enough.

“He gave me no choice”.

You started walking up to him, but forced yourself to stop before getting closer. Ray didn’t kill people for fun, but you still had to restrain yourself from not going to him and punching him. But you couldn’t do it, your mind screamed at you that it wasn’t wise to do that. And surprisingly, your heart did too. For once in your life, they were on the same side.

So you walked to the storage room and sat down in the corner of the room, pulling your knees against your chest. You started to sniffle again, before breaking into tears. You sobbed quietly, hoping anyone wouldn’t come in.

But when your luck was known, there wasn’t a possibility on that.

”Y/N? Hey, why are you crying?” a robotic voice came from the door and you flinched.

Why did it have to be your masked boyfriend? You didn’t want him to see you being so weak now, you didn’t want to talk about this to him just now. So you wiped off your tears and got up from the corner.

“Hey, babe.” you said, trying to sound happy and smiled. Well, tried to smile. His mask blinked from -__- to o__o and you knew he knew that you just pretended to be okay. He took your hands in his own and squeezed them gently. The purple light in the storage room blinked a couple of times and you turned your gaze to the wall.

“Did some fucking asshole hurt you?” he asked and his mask blinked from o__o to \__/ and you shook your head after staring at him for a second.

“N-no. Or...  ah, it... it’s hard to explain, I-I... I miss someone. My big brother.” you blurted out and closed your eyes in regret. Great job Y/N, now he asks why he isn’t in your life and you have to tell him or he feels bad because you can’t make yourself to tell him.

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a brother... why is he gone from your life?” he asked and you closed your eyes once again. His squeeze tightened around your hands. “You know you can tell me everything, right?”

You took a deep breath and looked at him.

“He... he was killed.” you swallowed and forced you to say the next word. “By Ray. My brother... D-Defalt.” you managed to say, and right after that your hands started to shake and you squeezed your eyes shut, fearing Wrench’s reaction.

For a moment, Wrench seemed to be frozen but suddenly he pulled you to a hug. You returned the hug almost immediately and didn’t care about the spikes pressing against your torso. You sobbed against his chest for the longest time, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t pull out of the hug, he just held you and slowly stroke your hair.

After it had been maybe fifteen minutes of crying against his chest, you pulled away.

“I... I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just... miss him so much and... I couldn’t take it when Ray told Sitara that he had killed J.B. I know he had no choice but... he was still my brother. I swear I didn’t know he was Defalt before his death and I have never agreed with what he was doing as Defalt. He was a completely different person as... J.B.” you said and bit your lip, looking down at Wrench’s shoes.

“I got my inspiration for this mask from Defalt.” he suddenly said, pointing his mask and you looked up to him. “He... he was pretty cool. He worked against DedSec but... everyone has to earn their money somehow. And he was a brilliant hacker. If... if you want, you can tell me about him.”

So you told him. You sat down on the floor of the storage room and you told him your childhood memories with him, how you had been pulling pranks on the neighborhood’s snoopy grandma, how he had clapped the loudest when you had graduated from school and how he had supported you in every corner of your life.

You also told him about your feelings after his death. You had felt lost and life didn’t feel worth living anymore. People had been glaring you at the streets, at the store, at work, at cafeterias... whenever you went, you saw glares. People were blaming you since you dared to show your face publicly. Because everyone knew now in your neighborhood that you were Defalt’s little sister. They blamed you for what your brother had done. 

But then you had decided to move to San Francisco, to start a new life with no one knowing who you are. That you had been living there for two months when you had met Wrench for the first time. You talked about how you felt having a family again that was long lost after J.B’s death. That you felt happy here.

And at the end of the day, Wrench encouraged you to tell others about the case. And they all accepted the news as they were. Ray was a bit shocked though, but more because he had talked about J.B’s death in front of you and apologized for that.

And at the end of the day, you still had your new family. And now it was a family whom you could fully trust.