#so they could send me a new one since my plan technically changed since I'm no longer employed

[dalishthunder]

Today was a bad day

[lyn31]

Omg! I just read your Zayne fluffy oneshot "Lonely" AND IT'S SOOO GOOD!! Whoever request you is so genius! And your writing are good too!! I'm here to send a request... (Since I craving more of a pregnancy story with Zayne). Here's my idea : MC had a fake contraction when Zayne isn't around. She doesn't know it was a fake contraction, so she immediately called her husband in panic. After that he gave her a whole day lecture something like that. But then, MC protested that it was his fault for keep working late. The argument ended when Zayne got an emergency call so he had to leave immediately when MC was still pouting about it. Do you get it? I'm not good at words, hopefully you understand 😩😩

I'm hoping you also mean fluff because that's what I ended up with after all 😂 Well... I only write fluff, so I guess it was going to be fluff either way... 🫶🏻😩

And no worries, I gotchuuu! I'm also someone who has a difficult time with words. My writing is crisp because it went through A LOT of editing, research, and flipping through the dictionary 🥹🫶🏻 and I agree the first request is genius, hella cute and this add to it as well! (Also I'm sorry I change the after the call part but I thought this work well! Let me know what you think)

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Love

Summary

When an unexpected moment of unease catches you off guard, you do what you’ve been told to do—you call him. And even through the distance, his voice is steady, reassuring. But maybe… it’s not just comfort you’re searching for. Maybe what you really need is for him to come home.

Ao3 link

My Masterlist ✨

Notes

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader Technically, this could be a separate universe, but it also fits right in the middle of the rest as well! The parts link is at the end! Either way, Enjoy! 🥰

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You’re just about to sit down when you feel it—a sudden jolt of discomfort deep in your stomach. It’s not exactly pain, not sharp enough to make you gasp, but enough to make you pause. Your hand instinctively comes to rest over your bump, thumb rubbing slow circles over the stretched fabric of your shirt.

Cramps aren’t unusual at this stage. You’re in your second trimester, and little aches and twinges come with the territory. So you shake it off, exhaling softly as you settle onto the couch, phone in hand.

You flip open the novel you were planning to read, but your attention drifts almost immediately. You could read, sure, but now you’re thinking about holding a real book in your hands. The way the pages feel under your fingers, the crisp scent of new paper. Maybe you should convince Zayne to take you to the bookstore soon—if he’s not too busy. Or maybe that grill place you've been craving since yesterday is open today.

You huff, tapping idly at your screen. It’s not like you don’t understand his job. He’s a doctor, a fantastic one at that, and you’re immensely proud of him. But knowing doesn’t stop you from wanting. From missing him.

It’s probably just the hormones talking. You try to shake off the thought and refocus on your book.

But just after you finish one page, you feel the aches again. Your stomach tightens—uncomfortably so. Not sharp, but deep. A pressure that lingers, almost taunting.

Your breath catches. That’s—that’s different. It doesn’t fade right away, and a strange sort of urgency prickles at the back of your mind. Your palm presses against the firmness of your belly, fingers twitching slightly.

It doesn’t go away.

Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’ll pass in a minute. But… what if it doesn’t?

"Okay..." you murmur to yourself. "Maybe... I should just..."

Your thumb hovers over your screen, another hesitation, before you press the emergency call button, your heartbeat suddenly loud in your ears.

The call barely finishes its second ring before a familiar voice answers.

"Yes?"

Just hearing Zayne’s voice eases some of your anxiety—but not all.

"Um..." You wince as the sensation moves lower, not increasing but persistent, refusing to be ignored.

"Darling?" His voice spikes slightly, alert. "Something wrong?"

"I—" You pause, trying to find the right words. "I don’t know. Something feels off."

There’s a brief silence. "Lower stomach? Upper? Or somewhere else?" Zayne asks, his voice steady.

You hesitate. "Lower stomach, I think? It’s not exactly pain—just an odd, lingering pressure." Taking another deep breath between your words.

"Sharp or dull?"

"...Dull."

"Alright. You’re already regulating your breath—that’s a good start." His voice is softer now, gentle but firm. A grounding force against the growing unease inside you. It's a good thing at this point, because you feel yourself panicking a little bit. The feeling still hasn’t faded. How long has it been? A minute? More?

You're still around six months at this point, and all you can think of is labor contractions. That is not a good outcome.

There’s a pause, then his tone softens slightly. "Try lying down—slowly. Tell me if it changes."

"Okay... Yeah..." You move to recline, but pause. "Wait—aren’t you supposed to walk around during contractions?"

"Don’t." His response is instant, clipped but controlled. You can almost hear him pinching the bridge of his nose. "You’re alone. I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk around while you’re in pain."

"Well, it’s not really pain—"

Your word gets cut off when you hear him saying your name. Not scolding, not impatient. Just firm. Steady.

Very him.

You shut your mouth, swallowing down the argument. It can wait.

Carefully, you ease yourself back against the couch cushions. You brace yourself on the backrest, moving in slow increments, exhaling with each adjustment.

The tightness begins to fade.

You hear a muffled voice in the background—someone asking Zayne a question. He must cover the receiver because you can’t make out the words, but when he returns, his voice is as steady as ever. "Darling? How is it?"

"Better," you admit, rubbing slow circles over your stomach.

"That’s good. When did the first one start?"

You hesitate.

"How do you know this wasn’t the first?"

There’s a pause. A knowing silence.

You huff. "Fair enough. I think about five minutes ago? Maybe longer. I wasn’t keeping track, I thought it was just cramps."

"Hmm. And now?"

You push yourself up slightly, careful not to move too fast. "It’s gone now."

You let out another slow breath, feeling a little ridiculous now. You just interrupted your husband at work for nothing. Maybe you should apologize—but then again, isn’t this what he always tells you to do? Call him if anything feels off?

There’s a slight exhale on the other end of the line—subtle relief. "That’s good. I think it’s safe to say it was false labor contractions."

Ah. Now you remember. Yes. You’d read about it before, but in the moment, all rational thinking had gone out the window.

"You don’t feel anything else?" Zayne asks.

"No," you murmur. Then, a little sheepishly, "Sorry. I completely forgot about false labor. What was it called again? We read about it, but I just... panicked."

"Braxton Hicks," he supplies easily. "And don’t apologize for being cautious. Precaution is never a bad thing."

There’s another muffled sound on his end, someone calling for him.

"Ah, right," you say, feeling a little guilty, but also a little bitter. But you shake the feeling away. "You should go, I’m fine now—"

"No," he cuts in, voice still soft. "I still have time."

You feel a warmth in your chest at that.

But then, his tone shifts, just a fraction firmer. "Now, did you overexert yourself? Or forget to drink water?"

"I drink my water!" you insist.

You don’t answer the other question.

Because, well... You may or may not have spent the morning rearranging the living room. Specifically the sofa.

The silence from the other end stretches for a beat too long. Then—

A sigh.

"If you need something, just tell me. I’ll do it for you."

The words are simple. No irritation, no exasperation. Just pure sincerity.

And somehow, that’s what makes the loneliness bubble up, unbidden.

You press your lips together, fingers tightening slightly around your phone. You’re fine. He’s busy. He’s saving lives, for God’s sake, and you’re sitting here whining about missing him?

The thought doesn’t help. The weight in your chest doesn’t go away.

You swallow hard, trying to push it down, barely more than a breath at first. "I was just—" You catch yourself too late, lips pressing together, but the words have already slipped out. "Lonely," you finish, softer this time, as if saying it quieter might make it less real.

And then, once it’s out, it won’t stop. “And then this happened, and you weren’t here, I mean you’re barely around and I just—I don’t know!”

The second the words leave your mouth, you slap a hand over it, eyes going wide.

Shit.

He doesn’t answer immediately. There’s a pause, just long enough that you wonder if the call dropped—then you hear his quiet inhale. When he speaks, his voice is softer, more careful. "I’m sorry."

Another pause. Then, just as gentle, "Today, I should be home on time."

You freeze, pulse jumping. That wasn’t supposed to come out. “I mean—” You force out a light laugh, waving a hand as if brushing it off. “Not like— I wasn’t upset or anything, just, you know… hormones?” You grasp at the excuse, but it’s a weak defense.

“Darling.”

His voice alone is enough to make your throat tighten. You shake your head quickly, as if he can see that too. “No, really, I mean yes, I miss you, of course. How could I not? But I don’t blame you, alright?”

A soft inhale on the other end of the line. “I miss you too. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you soon.”

His voice is steady, warm—so sincere it makes your chest ache.

"You don’t have to make up for anything," you murmur, though your throat feels tight.

"I do," he says simply. "I know I haven't been around as much as I'd want to. But that doesn't mean I don’t think about you all the time."

You sniffle. Oh, no. Here it comes. You are not about to cry over this.

Zayne hears it instantly. “Darling?”

“No, no, don’t—” You swipe a hand under your eyes. “You’re being too sweet, stop it.”

A quiet chuckle comes through the phone, warm and affectionate. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“Well, don’t.” You groan, tipping your head back against the couch.

His voice drops into something even softer, something almost intimate. “You know I’d rather be home with you, right? I’d rather be next to you right now, holding you, rubbing your back, listening to you rant about whatever new thing annoyed you today.”

You sniffle again, unable to stop yourself.

He sighs, indulgent. “Wipe your tears for me,” he murmurs. “I can’t do it right now.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. That is way too much. You cover your face with both hands, your phone barely on your grip, voice muffled when you groan, “Zayne.”

“Yes?”

“That’s too cute. Stop that.”

He hums, amused, like he’s not single-handedly making your heart explode. “I meant what I said,” he continues, like he’s speaking just for you. “I know it’s hard. And I know you’ve been lonely. But you’re not alone, alright? You never will be.”

A shaky breath escapes you. You can’t even answer that because you might actually start full-on sobbing.

Before you can pull yourself together, a voice calls his name in the background, sharp with urgency.

There’s a brief pause before he exhales. “Sorry, I have to go. Emergency.”

You sit up a little straighter, still trying to blink the tears away. “Don’t say sorry for doing your job,” you say quickly, before he even gets the chance.

A beat of silence. Then, quietly, “I love you.”

Your chest tightens again, but this time in the best way possible. “I love you too.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

And then the line clicks off, leaving you sitting there with a slightly damp face, fully in love, and no idea how you’re supposed to wait for him to come home after that.

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By the time Zayne gets home, the house is quiet, the lights are dim. His footsteps are careful as he steps inside, taking in the familiar scent of home.

But something is off.

His gaze flickers toward the living room, and his brows knit slightly. The sofa—it's not where it usually is. Only slightly shifted, but enough for him to notice.

A quiet sigh leaves him. So that’s why. No wonder.

And there you are—curled up on the living room sofa, blanket draped haphazardly over you, lips slightly parted as you breathe in steady, even rhythms.

Shaking his head, he moves closer, reaching down to carefully lift you, but the moment his hands brush against you, your lashes flutter. You stir, and then, before he can even say anything, you immediately reach for him, fingers gripping weakly at his sleeve as your sleepy voice murmurs, “Welcome home.”

His expression softens instantly. He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your head. “I’m home.”

You hum, eyes barely open, still clinging to him. He pulls back slightly, studying your drowsy face, and his lips press into a thin line. “I told you not to sleep here anymore.”

You yawn, stretching lazily. “It just turned out that way.”

Zayne lifts an eyebrow, unimpressed. His fingers brush lightly against the armrest, confirming his suspicion. “…And moving the sofa helped with that?”

Your expression flickers—too quickly. Suspiciously. “…I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zayne exhales sharply, almost a laugh, but doesn’t push. Instead, he watches you, unimpressed but fond.

Then, before you can argue further, your gaze flickers past him—and you gasp.

“Grill meat!”

Zayne barely has a second to react before you’re fully awake, scrambling up as you spot the takeout containers on the coffee table. You turn back to him with wide, excited eyes. “You got it! It's open today?!”

His lips twitch. “You’ve been talking about it for two days. I wasn’t about to come home empty-handed.”

You beam. Absolutely beam. It’s almost too much for him. Almost.

Zayne steps forward, already reaching for the bag to open it for you, but you immediately scold him, smacking his arm lightly. “No—go change first! You just got back, you should wash up or—whatever you need to do! I can wait.”

Zayne exhales, the sound a soft mixture of amusement and surrender. “You’re so impatient, but now you’re suddenly willing to wait?”

You huff. “Well, yeah! I’m feeling generous, so go now.”

He snorts, watches you for a second longer, as if considering pushing back, but then shakes his head. “Alright,” he says simply. “I’ll be quick.”

When he returns—now dressed in sweats and a plain tee—you’re already sitting cross-legged on the couch, takeout bag in front of you like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Finally,” you say, eagerly patting the space beside you. “Come on, doc, you deserve a break.”

With a quiet breath, Zayne settles beside you, reaching to open the containers. Warm, savory steam fills the air, and you practically melt.

“Oh my God,” you whisper reverently. “This is exactly what I needed.”

Zayne watches as you take your first bite, the way your eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

His lips press together like he’s holding something back.

But then, instead of teasing you immediately, his gaze softens just a fraction. “I really do love seeing you happy,” he murmurs, voice softer than before.

You pause mid-chew. The warmth in his tone catches you off guard, settling somewhere deeper than just the comfort of food or his presence. Your lips part slightly, something unspoken lingering on your tongue—

“Didn’t you say you could wait?”

You blink, barely processing the shift before narrowing your eyes. “...That was before I smelled it.”

“Hm.” He picks up his chopsticks, eyes flicking between you and the food. “And here I thought your love for me was unwavering.”

“It is,” you say immediately. Then, with a dramatic sigh, “But love won’t fill my stomach, Zayne.”

He exhales through his nose, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

“You married this, by the way,” you remind him, grinning. “Willfully.”

Zayne barely fights off the curve on his lips, eyes glinting with amusement. “...Unfortunately.”

You gasp. “Take it back!”

“Hmm. No.”

“Zayne!” You reach out to smack his arm.

He only chuckles, catching your wrist easily before letting his fingers slip between yours. The motion is effortless, natural. You don’t even think about it—you just hold on.

His hand is cool against your skin, but his presence is warm, grounding. The laughter, the quiet intimacy of shared meals, the way his fingers stay laced with yours—it settles something in your chest.

For tonight, it’s enough.

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Notes

Ugh I love fluff 🫶🏻😩 Sue me 😂 Not connected and more like a snippet (smut) but still on pregnancy theme!

You're reading the Pregnancy series! You're at Part 3

Part 0

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 (Smut at the end)

I was editing to add the rest of the series part but it was too long ahahaha so here's just the whole list: Parenthood AU Masterlist ✨

[watermelonlovershigh]

Not So Patient After All {part. 13} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

"You've been a real, bad, boy." {part. 12} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: i know, i know. full subrry will appear in the next chapter, i promise. after chapter 12 i thought this part would have him in it but then i came up with this idea and instead of making it too long, decided to make it 2 separate chapters. i hope you still enjoy!!!

This story contains: female masturbation w/ toy, sending nudes, sex, mild dirty talk, ass slapping, use of butt plugs, more sex

{ housemate!harry - boyfriendrry - soft!harry - teacher!harry - subrry }

word count- 2,628

You get impatient after your sex toys arrive and one day while Harry's at work, decide to use one and send him a naughty photo in the process. This leads him to pretend he's mad at you and two rounds of sex, one of which only happens because he gets hard again after you request that he wears one of his new butt plugs.

"Harry, Harry, Harry!" you call out your boyfriends name repeatedly as you move through the house carrying multiple packages. The toys you purchased a week ago have finally been delivered, and you are beaming with excitement. Bursting into your bedroom, you find Harry still asleep under your covers. Unable to contain your joy, you leap onto the bed, causing the boxes to tumble across the mattress, and playfully pounce on his sleeping body.

Harry's quick to pull the blankets over his head and groans in a raspy voice. "Mhm, what? What'd you want? M' sleepin'."

Rolling off his body, you explain, "Our toys came, Harry."

He reluctantly pulls the covers off his head and does a morning stretch, before fully waking up and becoming alert. Harry opens his eyes and glances around the bed, noticing you sitting beside him, with several small boxes scattered at the foot of the bed. "That's nice, but could you come give me a cuddle, please?"

You rush down and slip under the blankets on your bed, snuggling against Harry's warm body. Quietly, you ask, "Aren't you looking forward to our new toys?" Now you feel a little self-conscious about how happy you were when you discovered your deliveries had arrived.

"Baby, m'very happy. S'just, it's a Wednesday. I have work today. We can't use them until we have more time."

"Oh," you say disappointedly, not having thought of that.

Harry senses your disappointment and suggests a plan. He offers, "Tell you what, when Friday rolls around, I'll let you try out some of the toys on me. I know I'm due for my punishment, baby. You can wreck me and then Saturday I'll have time to stay home and recover since I don't work weekends"

Agreeing, you nod. "Okay, sounds like a plan. Sorry I got so excited. Just can't wait to use my new strap-on on you."

"No apologizing, m'love. It's okay you got excited. M' excited too, but we have to be patient."

After cuddling for a few more minutes, you sit up and proceed to open each box to simply glance inside and see what each item looks like. The excitement of seeing your new toys increases your happiness, but you must keep in mind that you need to be patient, or as patient as possible.

Then realizing the time, Harry scrambles out of bed to get ready for work before he's late.

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Your patience persisted from Wednesday all the way through Thursday morning. Yet, as noon approached on Thursday, you were suddenly consumed by a powerful feeling of horniness. With Harry still at work and unable to offer any assistance, you tried hard to ignore the throbbing sensation between your legs. However, you became so wet that you had no choice but to change your panties, as they had become drenched from your heightened state of arousal.

When your second pair of panties get damp, you'd had enough and get up to go try your new rose vibrator. You feel guilty since Harry isn't here but technically there was never a rule that you couldn't masturbate when he wasn't home. Even if there was, you'd still secretly do it if you needed to bad enough.

After laying a towel on the bed, you undress and settle into a comfortable position. Taking hold of your new rose vibrator, you direct it towards your clit. While the rose was new to you, you were no stranger to suction toys. The moment you switch on the rose toy and place it in the right spot, you nearly jump off the bed due to your sensitivity.

Unlike the rest of your suction vibrators, this one provides a sensation similar to when a human sucks on the clit. While laying on the bed, you hold the rose vibrator against your clitoris, feeling your breath quicken and your wetness increase. In less than two minutes, you're already on the verge of orgasm. But before reaching that peak, you decide to turn off the toy for a second and engage in a bit of teasing with Harry.

You grab your phone and open the camera. In one hand you place your rose back on your clit and your other hand holds your phone. You snap a few photos and quickly send the best looking one to Harry before laying your phone down and getting back to business. Right as you're about to actually come, your phone dings beside you.

Opening your messages, you read Harry's reply and smile evilly.

Harry- Y/n, I'm working!!! You can't be sending me photos like that when I'm at work. Do you know how weird it'd be if I got hard in front of 10 and 11 year olds??? They'd be trying to send me to JAIL!!!

You- oops 🤪

After sending off your response, you complete your task at hand. With all the edging you've done in the past hour, you quickly climax upon switching the vibrator back on. A wave of relief washes over you as the pent-up sexual energy is released. Now feeling tired, you quickly clean yourself up and crawl under your blankets naked, drifting off for a short nap.

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Harry comes home to a quiet house. He knows you're home because your car is out front. So he does some searching and finds you asleep in your bed. At first glance you look normal, but shortly after making his way over to you, he realises you're naked under your duvet. Probably from not having the energy to get dressed after masturbating earlier.

He wants to be mad that you touched yourself without him being here, but can't. The one thing he's never cared about is his partners pleasuring themselves while he's gone. As long as they think about him while doing it, he's all for self pleasure. But, to be cheeky and mess with you a bit, he'll pretend like he's mad at your actions.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and slowly open your eyes, seeing Harry standing over you. You do a big stretch, your breasts popping out of the covers, and relax back into the mattress. Making grabby hands, you whine, "Come cuddle with meeee."

He shakes his head in disagreeance. "Nope, you decided to touch yourself while I was at work, meanin' you obviously don't need me, so.... m' gonna go shower, along. You've been a very bad girl, Y/n."

You observe Harry leaving your room without looking back, and suddenly feel a wave of sadness. His intentions are unclear to you. So in order to avoid possibly upsetting him further, you opt to remain in bed for a few more minutes until your stomach rumbles, prompting you to rise and head to the kitchen where you'll begin preparing dinner. However, you make sure to put some clothes on first.

As Harry was taking a shower, he had a feeling that you might come and try to join him. He was actually hoping that you would defy his request and still shower with him. But, when you didn't show up, he realizes that you must have taken his words seriously.

After he's finished showering, he follows the aroma of food being prepared in the kitchen and discovers you chopping vegetables on the kitchen island. You gaze up at Harry with a deep frown as he enters the kitchen and whisper, "Are you genuinely bothered that I touched myself? You've never mentioned having that rule. Just so you know though, I was thinking of you while doing it. And I didn't watch any porn."

Harry walks over to you from behind and wraps his arms around you, letting you catch a whiff of his fruity shampoo and vanilla body wash. "Baby, I was just kiddin'. M' not really mad that you masturbated. I don't care if you touched yourself, we all do it from time to time. As long as I know you were thinkin' of me and I wasn't around, m' fine with it. Now, if I was around and you purposefully didn't ask me to help, I'd be a little hurt, but...".

Breathing a sigh of relief, you reply, "Oh, thank God. Because even if you had that rule, I'd still touch myself if you weren't home and I was horny enough."

"Hey," Harry shouts playfully, unwrapping his arms from around you, "now I might make it a rule, just because you said that."

"Whatever."

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Later that night after everything else is done, you both end up in Harry's bed having sex. It's neither aggressive nor extremely gentle, just your standard, basic sex. Nonetheless, it is satisfying. It starts out with you on top, riding Harry, but then you express fatigue and he carefully lays you down and takes charge.

"Poor baby, too tired to ride m'cock." he mocks while thrusting into you at a constant speed.

You playfully slap his ass and Harry nearly topples over you, moaning super loud. You didn't realise a barely hard slap would have such effects on him. "Oh you liked that, didn't you, hm?"

He nods his head where it rests against your collarbone and answers, "Yes, do it again, please." You rear back your hand and slap his ass cheek harder this time, loving to watch his white flesh jiggle and turn red. "Oh fuck, m' gonna come." Before he allows himself to come though, he slips his hand between your bodies and starts aggressively rubbing your clit against his fingers.

"Ahh, Harry!!!" you cry out, your back arching as you come all over his cock and fingers. He continues his stimulation until you literally start crying from overstimulation. Harry removes his fingers from your sensitive clit but continues thrusting as he finally allows himself to let go and orgasm. His thrusts become weak and uncoordinated as he ejaculates deep inside you.

Once his orgasm diminishes, Harry's heavy body plops down on top of you, almost knocking the wind from your lungs. You both lay there in post-orgasm bliss until you have an idea. When buying your toys on Amazon a few days ago, Harry mentioned how he can sleep with the black silicone butt plug due to its flexibility. And tomorrow you will be fucking his ass. So what if he sleeps with it tonight to make sure he's nice and stretched for you tomorrow. You'd hate to hurt him in anyway.

"Harry?" you say, breaking the rooms silence.

Still breathing rather heavy with his head resting on your chest, he answers, "Yeah, baby?"

"Do you think you could sleep with that silicone butt plug in tonight? You know, because of what's gonna happen tomorrow, I want you to be well stretched so I don't hurt you. And..... I've never seen anyone wear one so I'm kinda curious as to what they look like inside someone."

Your question causes Harry to sit upright. Despite his belief that he doesn't need any actual stretching beforehand, it has been quite some time since he last had anything up his ass, and he would prefer to take precautions. Additionally, the fact that you've never observed someone using and wearing a butt plug serves as extra motivation for him to demonstrate the process.

"Of course, but um, let me just, you know, go to the bathroom and ensure that m' finished using it for the night and that m' completely clean down there. Then I'll come back and you can either assist with the insertion or observe me doin' it."

You nod eagerly as Harry gets up from the bed naked and goes to the bathroom. He remembers a previous incident involving a butt plug and a need to use the toilet, so he makes sure he doesn't have to go to the bathroom in order to prevent a recurrence. After checking his hygiene, he goes back to the bedroom where you have the butt plug and lube set out.

As Harry walks up to the bed, soft cock slightly swinging between his legs, you ask, "Can you do it and I just watch. I'm kinda nervous."

"Sure baby, but nothin' to be nervous about. It's just me, and I'd tell you if you were hurtin' me in anyway. But I can do it and you watch." He climbs onto the bed, still naked from your previous activities, and tries to decide what position he'd prefer to be in, on his knees or layed back with his legs up. He ultimately decides to lay on his back.

Harry settles into position, arranging pillows behind his back against the headboard and spreads his legs. Anxiously, you pass him the lube and butt plug, watching intently as he begins. Despite your initial desire for him to wear it and the upcoming anal sex, you find yourself feeling nervous. Excited, yet nervous. You've never gave anal to anyone before. Mostly because all the men you've been with in the past were too straight and thought negatively on the act.

With the bottle of lube in hand, Harry applies a liberal amount to the bulbous tip of the butt plug using his fingers, followed by wiping any excess off around his tight hole. You adjust your position to sit facing him, allowing you to witness the entire process. You observed how he delicately moves his flaccid cock out of the way and how he carefully goes to insert the lubricated plug into his slick opening. Just before Harry pushes it in, he looks up at you with a soft yet mischievous grin.

He has always harbored a hidden desire for either observing someone engage in self-touch or being observed while engaging in self-touch. Although not solely for pleasure, the act remains deeply intimate, and your observation right now nearly reignites his arousal.

With a deep breath, he relaxes his muscles and slowly starts to insert the butt plug into his ass. The lubricant prevents any pain during the process, despite the stretching sensation. You watch as his anus takes in the butt plug effortlessly, except for the heart-shaped diamond on the end, which sets nicely against his hole. Looking up at Harry's face, you see a slight scrunch, not from pain, but from relief.

"Mhm, fuck, that felt good." Harry annonces, his muscles turning to mush on the bed now that he's finished inserting the butt plug. You smile at him widely, about to speak when he suddenly grunts in what sounds like frustration. "No," he whines, "m' hard again. Too sensitive to be hard again."

Glancing down, you see his flaccid cock no longer flaccid, but half hard. The process of inserting the butt plug in his ass combine with you watching him, it turned him on again.

You let out a giggle and propose, "We could have sex again? Just slower this time. Get all comfy under the covers, turn the lights out, and when we finish, fall asleep naked. Hm?"

Though Harry knows it'll be slightly painful at first from how sensitive his dick is from his previous orgasm, he agrees with a nod. You climb out of bed to turn the lights off, then crawl back under the covers so your plan can unravel.

-------------------------------

Thirty very sweaty minutes later, you're both knocked out cold in each others arms. Two rounds of sex was almost too much for one night. Not to mention that last round of sex was extremely pleasurable for Harry since he had a butt plug in. Wearing a butt plug during sex always felt super good in his opinion. It stimulated his prostate while giving him that full feeling he longed for sometimes.

Now you just wait until tomorrow night where the pleasure will be upped ten-folds when you fuck him with your new pretty pink strap-on.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(if you want to be apart of my new tag list, let me know right here !! )

tag list: @swiftmendeshoran // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @hsonlyangelxo

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Long Awaited Punishment {part. 14}

[lemotmo]

Hi!! This took me way too long to write (Accidental deletes, frustrations and general busyness) but here's my ask on Bobby and his death and the good it'll do for the show.

[Disclaimer: I do not think Bobby is dead, I think he's alive in a government lab or something. They were way too vague about his death for me to be 100% certain of his death. But the show will be treating him as dead and for the sake of my analysis and speculation of the show, Bobby is dead. He's dead in the show and my essays, but he's alive in my heart.]

Bobby being dead is going to insert new life into the show, which is great for the longevity of the show. No show succeeds by being static and 911, being a primarily firefighter show struggles with this. There's no immediate promotions within the station - it's firefighter and then captain. For example - medical shows, over a timeline of 8 years. a doctor character would be an intern, a resident and then either a fellow or an attending by the end of that time period. That's a lot of change. The structure of the LAFD in the show doesn't allow for that much change. Even the nonfirefighting aspects of the show, dispatch and police, both Maddie and Athena, have maintained the same positions in their careers for years. Nothing has changed much and as much as I hate Bobby's death, if there's one thing it does, it's forcing change in the show.

I'll cover the captaincy and dynamics part in another ask, but in this ask, I'm going to focus on time. 911 has been an ensemble show technically, but there is an undeniable focus on Bobby and Athena, which is especially apparent in seasons 7 and 8 - at least 55% of season 7 and 50% of season 8 is focused on either Bobby and Athena.* And even prior to that, excluding the pilot season, a large chunk of the season premieres and finales were focused on Bobby and Athena.** Now with Bobby dead - Athena's main scene partner - the show now has to showcase other characters in the hole that the time created. Even if Athena keeps 25% of that show time, there's still an extra 25% for the other characters that they just weren't getting before. Which is good especially for Hen, Chimney and Eddie who just didn't get many storylines during seasons 7 or 8, and in the case of Eddie where in season 8 where he got the time, his storylines were sloppily done and underwhelming. Bobby being dead means that more time can be dedicated to these characters.

I'd love them to take Bobby's death to start introducing probies to the 118 again. We haven't seen a probie since season 4 and 5 with Ravi and this would be the perfect time to add one to the circle, especially with the new captain. I'd also love for Ravi to become a permanent member of A Shift especially since it's highly likely that Eddie will swap over to being a firefighter paramedic. I will say that I am not a fan of adding another main character to the bunch - the show could barely balance 7 over the past two seasons, so I'm not actually hopeful that they could balance 7 again. We'll see though, they managed it over seasons 2-5, they could do it again.

Anyways, I hope you have a great day!! (I'll probably send in my thoughts on captaincy later today!)

*https://www.tumblr.com/lemotmo/785727308109627392/i-agree-that-abc-clearly-has-a-plan-q-it-feels?source=share (I accidentally deleted my part of the ask detailing the stats, and I didn't feel like doing it again, so anonymous blog's ask was a lifesaver.)

**I cranked the numbers and seasons 4,5,6,7 and 8 all had premieres and finales where the major focus was on either Bobby or Athena. (I count 6x01-6x03 as a complete opener because the episodes lead directly into one another and it follows the structure of other 3 episode premieres. 1st episode tells us what the characters are up to with the introduction to the major emergency at the very end, episode 2 is dealing with that emergency with a twist at the end and then episode 3 is dealing with the twist and wrapping everything up. Season 6 follows this pattern, so it's a complete premiere in my opinion.)

Hi!!! Sorry for responding to this so late, but real life kept me running around in circles. 🙄 I needed a Tumblr break!

Okay, first of all... I kinda do believe that Bobby is dead dead. I hate it 😫, but yeah... I've accepted it at this point. Just wanted to share that as well.

Your theories are very interesting. I have to admit that I've also been thinking beyond the Bobby of it all. With Bobby gone, there is an imbalance in the 118 and the show. I suspect they will play upon that fact and really let us feel this 'imbalance' in the first few episodes.

It'll definitely take some time for the 118 to get their footing back and their new Captain to really become THE Captain, because Bobby's shoes are hard to fill. But I do think that Chimney will step up to the plate and eventually it'll feel like the 118 of old again: different no doubt, but also the same in many other ways.

I'm fascinated in what this all means for the core four. Bobby and Athena had a lot screentime in this show. With half of the couple gone, that focus will have to be divided among the others. I'm hoping for more focus on the core four and their partners: Hen and Karen, Chimney and Maddie, Eddie and Buck.

I really like Ravi, but I don't think they'll make him main just yet. He'll probably stay on as a recurring character for now. 911 already has issues with balancing their main character stories as it is. Adding another main character after such a big character death is simply not a good idea. I'm not ruling out that he'll be main eventually, but I don't think it'll be in season 9.

Again... I'm only speculating here. I could be dead wrong and Anirudh will be pronounced as main tomorrow or something like that. 😆

Thank you for sending me your thoughts and speculations. You know I love reading them. 😁

Have a great day!

[dlthedescent]

Happy 5th Anniversary to Descent Blog

Hiya followers!

It's five years since I made this side blog for my Dying Light fanfic but technically, a year younger than when I first published it on FFN and AO3. And for those 6 years in total, I cannot thank enough of the support and love for something that I started with "I see the potential in the story, I want to write it, I'm gonna write it or so help me."

And here we are. Ahahaha, no end in sight. please send he-

I didn't have anything planned for an anniversary. But the best I can give is some updates coming:

Two chapters will be uploaded next week (as long as no hiccup from life), one being the intermission chapter and one starting the Harran Arc. Yes, it's finally coming.

Another minor thing I've been doing on the side is giving another overhaul cleanup on the previous chapters. While I'm in a neverending cycle with errors and grammar mistakes, hah, this is to streamline the writing a bit more. I've written so much over the years and started planning out something original to challenge myself as a writer, I wanted to put my skills to the test in cleaning up the old chapters. As well as make way for more creative thoughts in newer chapters, especially with expectations on my thoughts of how the Beast DLC may go. Would some plots be nicely connected and what could I further explore, bringing from the old to a new Descent 2 fanfic (TBW) in the future, etc.

The changes aren't gonna be too massive in changing the story, the plot will remain the same. You just will see that word count be a bit shorter than like...over a million words in total or something.

There are some things also cooking in the background but they're too early or rough to talk about it at this time. But for now, again thank you for reading and rereading and enjoy Descent. I wouldn't have gotten this far, without you guys.

[moonshine-nightlight]

2024 Writing - Plans

similar to last year, i wanted to post a little look forward at my plans for writing this year are. the necessary disclaimer: this is 100% high level, optimistic, ideal situation and subject to change but i still like thinking about it and posting for anyone who's interested. see this post for last years!

so, i like separating things out it mini goals/sections so see below:

Nothing's Wrong with Dale: with DSM self-published under my belt, I'd like to focus on the NWWD publishing journey next! The main obstacles/costs are time and money. Hiring an editor and a cover artist are the pricey-est part of the process but my own edit (first to convert everything from 2nd POV to 3rd POV and then another high-level edit/revise once i've got it in the right POV) will take the most time and needs to be done before i hand it over to an editor. Then after the editor takes their time (and NWWD is much longer than DSM), and finally i need to process all of their edits as well. And i need to do all of this while i do my day job lol.

i've already converted the first 11 chapters to 3rd POV (i hav some IRL friends/betas who only read that version, so if u feel like the tumblr version took a lot of time lol). the timing of being able to publish this year will all end up depending on how quickly i can do all that and kick off the part of the process that depends on outside parties. Even if i manage to self-publish in this year, i don't expect it to come out until lik December and even that's ideal, super best case scenario.

Long Stories: I want to outline both A Perfectly Ordinary Research Position and Shadow Diplomacy and then pick one to be the new long story on here. I do what i call a chapter outline and a scene outline, which is confusing to not!me because the scene = a chapter on here. i should probably rename that process lol. (NWWD was 11 'chapters' and 35 'scenes' for reference).

once i pick a project, i just hope to post as many chapters as i can. Since this will be new, long, and likely just building steam, i actually think it'll be my lower priority after the Short Stories and NWWD publishing, but we'll see. i'd like to start putting that up in June, according to my tentative 2024 schedule.

Short Stories: Since i didn't get as many of these done in 2023 and they've been haunting my brain longer, i want to for sure get some of these shorter stories done. learning from last years overestimation lol, i plan to post 3 short stories: Courtship Confusion, Feral, and finish Free Piano: Haunted, in that order. i'm excited about all these stories and will let me cover 3 different types of pairings (although technically all are Reader) which is fun. All have been outlined and have parts and pieces written. I wish Feral and FPH could both happen in the fall but the timing just doesnt work out so summers gonna b a little spooky lol.

The schedule i worked out makes it so all this will be possible, but also basically has no breaks in sunday postings after my haitus which is beyond optimistic but i lik to start overly confident lol

Hiatus: this is also your reminder that my work has a specific Busy Season which honestly started already (lucky me) and i will b beyond busy Jan-March at a minimum. i hav more projects than ever with my promotion, a lot to learn, and a lot to juggle so minimum 6 day work weeks will be the name of the game - but hopefully all goes well and i'll get a nice bonus i can feed directly to my editors lol

anyway, that's where i'm at right now and I'm looking forward to all the exciting writing and publishing to come in 2024!

Feel free to send in any asks about upcoming/current stories!

Thanks again for all your support in 2023 and Happy New Year!

[bloody-wonder]

ik I'm probably the only person that still sends u asks about aftg, but did u read the new short stories? any thoughts?

thank you for the ask and sorry that it took me ages to reply! i just wanted to reread aftg before checking out the new extra chapters (for maximum impact) so i was waiting for the right mood to do the whole thing and now it finally happened. reread the og trilogy and the extra content over the last couple of weeks and i gotta say - absolutely amazing, no notes, still love this story to bits, maybe even more than before😌🥍

i liked the new chapters a lot too! so turns out i still like nora's writing, it's just that i don't care about jean & the trojans oops😬 well maybe that's gonna change after i finally read the golden raven🤷‍♀️

funny moments:

"are you and neil not getting along? - bane of my existence." hehehe😁 "my hands are full with too many idiots" yes yes andrew we all know how much you hate your friends who you've invested so much time in keeping deals with😏

"now that you're doomed to bounce off the walls all night, any plans? - chaos and mayhem." 😂😂😂 lmao the implication that betsy got andrew into musicals - i love it. there is no other explanation for how andrew knows who jean valjean is in the late 2000s, right? it's before the movie adaptation came out and there's no way andrew read the book.

"he could waste his time being angry or he could go the tried and true minyard route of infuriating everyone else around him" haha aaron's chapter starting with him smirking about how he's gonna manipulate and gaslight his brother into breaking their deal. okay machiavelli, we remember now you're a minyard too. "Hey Bee!" ksjdvkjsd he's like i'm gonna ruin this man's whole career he won't even know what hit him😂

"exy this, exy that, get a fucking hobby already. oh, but i guess he did?" if the twinyards didn't have Issues they could've bonded over hating neil's exy obsession big time. also this is peak sibling teasing over crushes in front of an audience, andrew was probably so Embarrassed🙈 "i like neil's promise ring, by the way. matching set. very cute." GO AWAY AARON🙈🙈🙈 "neil is not our family, not with the way you look at him" no come back tell me more👀

"aaron was willing to be an ass about it" and what a burden lol "he tried to punch me out. - you bring out that urge in people." 😂😂😂 "i told her you were never going to develop a personality of your own. she held out hope for you regardless. she has a thing for lost causes." siblings banter👏 siblings banter👏 siblings banter👏

"i liked him more when he wasn't speaking to me, bee" 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

"neil, then? :) - tick tock, bee. goodbye." OMG they are literally ganging up on this poor man!! the worst day andrew has had since roland accidentally threw him under the bus that one time😂

"you will regret it. - says the man dating a MAFIOSO. - i'm not dating him. - LIAR😃" sjhvskvbksdj this is everything lmao. surreal that they just spent so much time discussing the danger katelyn may or may not pose to aaron considering who andrew is not-dating. love that we have this on page instance of neil being called a mafioso hehe😅 and technically it's true that one can't describe what neil and andrew have by the unassuming word 'dating' but aaron won't let semantics get in the way of MAKING FUN OF HIS BROTHER FOR HAVING A CRUSH🙌🙌🙌

emotional moments:

"coaches have no honor. your word is enough. just yours." 😭 as a big fan of "and my father comes to all of my games" i gotta say - 😭😭😭

"have to stack the deck in his favor somehow" jesus lord🥲 ik the twinyards would do anything for each other and ik the only thing andrew cared to know after being assaulted was if aaron was alright BUT this somehow feels bigger to me. maybe bc sa was nothing new for andrew but submitting this part of himself for examination by state officials was? andrew "get away from us" minyard giving these doctors this intrusive, unfair kind of power over himself bc he knows this is the only way to save aaron back rn😭

"who fears the monster that knows the taste of a whip?" this is the rawest fucking line everrr😱 andrew never fails to shakespeare. very revealing in terms of how he sees himself in his relationships - and a recurring motif too bc in the story where wymack recruits them to the team he says wymack can "loosen the chain" by letting him come off his meds during games. a chained monster who is only let loose when one of his own needs to be rescued by violence😬 i can only imagine how he felt when neil thanked him for being their defender (as opposed to others 'using' his services but being put off by the 'monstrous' parts of him) and told him he wants to see him lose control😳

"someone like you wouldn't understand the importance of hiding scars." 🥲🥲🥲 this is very sad but unfortunately now i can only think about that post i saw the other day about how andrew must have been showering wearing armbands in communal showers after away games bc otherwise everyone would know about his scars by now and then just what? went on wearing wet armbands? lol he probably brought an extra set but still - food for thought. also "andrew's smile was all ice" ?? is this a canon non medicated andrew smile before kevin changes his tattoo??? i'm gonna disregard this

"neurosurgeon, right? - ......................fuck you, andrew." it's so difficult being codependent sibling frenemies with andrew bc he will literaly help you fulfill your secret dreams and murder your abusers so you can't even be mad at him when you're playing machiavellian mind games to get him to let you date your girlfriend. like, there's no winning against this guy, he's always two steps ahead in your self-sacrificial frenemy game🥹🥰

"'i am capable of multitasking.' aaron heard what he didn't say: i blame us both." 😔😔😔 aaron pushing at andrew with the couch pillow to get him to look at him😌

thoughts:

wymack's chapter:

so when kevin makes the info about his father public wymack says it won't have any impact on his coaching which like, sure, bc in the books, seen from neil's pov, it doesn't look like kevin gets any special treatment from wymack neither before nor after the reveal. well, no sort of treatment more special than andrew & co get in any case. so it's interesting to see from wymack's pov that he indeed has a different kind of emotional investment in kevin even before he knows him to be his son - bc kevin is the son of this lowkey legendary woman who he used to love, who he was in a serious committed relationship with, who he believes did not reciprocate bc she had this kid with someone else and then broke things off with him, and who then died in tragic circumstances. so a bunch of complicated stuff, not even related to kevin being his son - bc it's not like he suspected all along, he just looks at kevin and sees kayleigh and that by itself creates an attachment different to those he has with the other foxes. i wonder if it really never had any impact on his coaching or if neil just didn't mention it.

betsy's chapter:

so betsy's chapter is devastating, right? right. it's this special brand of angst i really like when absolutely fucked up shit happens but the characters involved try to act like it's nothing by having funny banter etc to obscure the fact that everything is fucked, things changed drastically and you have no control over anything except your own surface level behavior. ig i relate to this a lot bc this was the communication style in my family and i got used to it so much i still struggle to hold a sincere conversation without diffusing each vulnerability with a joke. so that's what andrew and wymack are doing in that scene - andrew for the above reasons and wymack bc this is how they usually talk to each other and he doesn't want to offend andrew by suddenly changing it in the wake of what happened - and then there's betsy who breaks through this by asking difficult questions directly, plainly stating that things that happened to andrew are fucked up, putting her compassion into words and basically firmly urging him to process. i didn't like that😂

lmao i mean on a personal level, not like on a narrative level. ik this is her job as his therapist and ik this is what andrew probably needed to hear despite his manic jester facade but ngl i preferred when neil 'yelled' at him bc it was a nice contrast to everyone's concern and pity, esp given how it's confirmed that andrew specifically hates that everyone knows now and might see him as weak. like on the one hand i completely understand what betsy means when she tells andrew it's time to put the monster away but on the other it feels like she just doesn't get all the levels of fucked up he has to deal with. which is why ig he responds nope it's not time yet "with him on our heels" (i assume he means riko) and that's the end of it.

given that betsy somehow managed to gain andrew's respect after he had to go through so many therapists i always assumed that they work bc she meets him halfway and is able to understand the psychology behind his deals and coping mechanisms without being preachy about how he needs to drop them sooner or later. i imagined she had some sort of interesting individual approach with him. but this didn't feel individual enough to me - just your standard "you were abused but this is not your fault" (true, and?), "nobody will judge you for it" (maybe, but they will see him differently), "it's time to put the monster away and become a normal guy" (how will this solve any of the problems at hand tho?). "but everyone deserves to be a normal guy! a friend! a brother!🙂" lol ik i'm twisting her words but this is the vibe i got from betsy here so it's probably good we see so little of her and her therapy in the books - otherwise i'd have been disillusioned. idk she just makes me feel uncomfortable, i'm with neil on this one lol

(however, later in aaron's chapter when she says it's time to pull the knife from the wound so it can heal i think it's appropriate both setting and timing-wise)

aaron's chapter:

i agree with aaron when he thinks andrew avoided talking to betsy about neil bc it would open a whole can of worms and she'd make him confront his feelings and admit how important neil is to him. however, i don't agree with his assessment that andrew needed him and betsy to accept and approve him being gay. i don't think andrew never came out to betsy bc he thought she was homophobic in some shape or form, but rather bc coming out would lead to talking about the issues he wasn't ready to discuss with her yet - such as his sexuality in the context of his abuse and then ofc his feelings for neil. as for aaron's approval, i think aaron's is self-projecting a bit.

like, as a person who used to be very homophobic and who has learned to become less so at least in part due to having a close relative who is gay but has done so much good for him, i think aaron often has the issues of accepting queer sexuality on his mind and so he thinks it's the same for andrew. i don't want to say that andrew doesn't at all care what aaron's thinks of him being gay but it does seem like aaron sort of centers himself in this situation and assumes that his gay brother owes him this information - as in: andrew would've come out sooner or later and only hasn't done so up till now bc he was afraid of aaron's reaction - as opposed to: andrew doesn't need to come out if he doesn't want to for many reasons but esp bc the idea that queer people have to disclose their sexuality and sort of give the others an occasion to accept or reject them, to form an opinion about their identity, is hetero propaganda. like, figure things out for yourself, i won't tell you anything🙄 people can be important to you and you can still never come out to them bc you literally don't have to. maybe andrew didn't come out bc his sexuality was wrapped in all these big problems and traumas and feelings OR maybe he just didn't want to hear nicky's running commentary about it. maybe he just wanted to keep his private life private. all of these reasons seem more plausible to me than aaron claiming it's bc andrew was afraid of what aaron, betsy and the others would think of him if they found out.

so aaron framing this convo as this big moment for andrew makes me roll my eyes a little. "andrew needed a few moments to come to terms with their easy acceptance" "andrew wouldn't risk their unfavorable opinion" like, come on. someone thinks too much of himself and of his straight superpowers to grant self-acceptance to queer people by showing a minimum of support. andrew was probably pleased to hear that they won't be having additional issues to work on but that's about it.

so, in conclusion: you know the unreliable narrator neil discourse? many people in the fandom are convinced that neil is constantly lying, twisting and omitting information and there's a popular shitpost genre that's like "we would never have found out this *unimportant detail* if we hadn't gotten this other character's pov bc neil is so unreliable". i'm still irritated by this bc unreliable neil truthers seem so inexplicably sure that everyone is reliable except for neil (or more precisely: the more life has fucked you up the less reliable you are - but that is a post for another time) and therefore all other povs contain objective unbiased facts. well, i think this moment in the chapter is a good example of aaron being unreliable bc the way he interprets andrew's feelings seems to be colored by his own views and not consistent with how andrew is presented in the rest of the canon.

conversely, the way aaron explains his own homophobia - that it used to be about nicky's gayness itself but now it's more about how nicky's constant lewd comments make him uncomfortable - fits very well with their dynamic that we've seen before. i remember i first liked aaron bc nicky's sex jokes irritated me a lot and aaron was the only one to voice my irritation - so it was satisfying to get the confirmation that i judged his reasons correctly. it was also interesting to find out that he had enough insight to analyze why nicky was behaving this way.

[celesticaether]

[Log Date - 01/01/23]

I'm starting this log as to chronicle a weird glitch I've encountered in the latest Pokémon. Here's the gist:

I was playing Pokémon Violet again because I got bored and figured that my team could use some new composition, so I looked around and started replacing members here and there.

Out came Great Tusk (primeul Tusk as my friend named 'em), in came Garchomp. Out came Ampharos, in came Mirai... wait, it goes back to its ride form EVERY time I ride it? Who let that through?!...nevertheless, in came Toxtricity (side note, turns out I just had to look slightly hard to find the other Miraidon and had passed it previously, but that's for another time.)

Anyways, I had my team set up but there were some flaws, and even if I didn't intend to get rid of Meowscarada I figured I could have a look at Amoonguss, because A) haha, GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD, but also B) it's fast enough with some set up to pose a genuine threat with Spore.

After EV training the team a bit (aka getting bored after about 10 moves a piece) I went looking for the Amoonguss I wanted. But that's when I came across... it.

It wasn't a normal Amoonguss, almost like it had had lasting effects from Salt Cure, but eh - stylish. Regardless, when I tried using Let's Go because it was a little freaky, Miraidon refused. I knew it wasn't shiny, so what was the holdup?

Regardless, I figured I'd just hit it with something like Power Gem (I was planning to get rid of it soon, since I didn't need it for anything besides a Bug type that somehow had taken out the entirety of the rest of my team, which... not gonna happen, be real.) but that's when things really got weird.

The thing had 0 HP. Not like I could see the number, but with an empty health bar that'd be redundant. Despite this, it managed to outspeed Miraidon by some miracle and landed a Spore. But... this wasn't just a "Spore". It was some kind of move that almost seemed like a typo, being "Spores".

The effect was mostly the same, but instead of falling asleep, the game pointed out that Miraidon was "in a deep sleep" which, again, a little freaky, but nothing major. After this, the game closed randomly. I hadn't managed to faint it; then again, could I have? I mean... it was technically fainted prior, so I guess I won automatically - but that's besides the point. What matters is what happened when I reopened the game.

The title screen was silent, or maybe I just had a weird audio thing; the chimes still played, plus when I loaded in everything was fine audio-wise. However, when I checked around me... the Amoonguss was gone. This was strange, since I thought Pokémon would respawn upon reloading a save at least, shiny hunters always SAID to save.

What was stranger was that... Miraidon was still asleep. Now, if it was really before the battle, it shouldn't have had time to autosave, but maybe the game was weird. Even so, I checked it out since maybe it was just a visual glitch, but...

...the summary page was off.

In it, it had a little note at the bottom, in almost illegible text just stating one message:

"Tainted - Stage: 1. Curable if given a certain item."

Now, I looked this up and nothing useful. What the hell did "tainted" mean anyway? Probably nothing - Miraidon LOOKED fine.

That's where I last saved. Will update if anything changes, or if I fix this stupid bug. Send in advice if you've seen this before, cause I've got a weird feeling this is time sensitive.

[lacomandante]

im sure you explained it somewhere, but how did you end up getting the chance to stay and work with assumpta? that is just amazing!

It's a really weird story, but I made a post (I forget which site it was, maybe insta) about how much I liked Teresa and the Sharpe series, and Assumpta's husband, Scott, ended up finding it LOL. He was really kind and sent me her email to reach out to her...which took me about 8 months to write (and Sam of course edited the email so I wouldn't sound cringe :P). Assumpta got it and from there added me and followed me and naturally I was freaking out LOL. I would always be so nervous and have no idea what to say, or if what I wanted to send was fine (and it literally was completely normal I was just freaking out over getting the chance to talk to her LOL). She wanted to meet for coffee when I came to Spain, we planned for it in the spring of 2020.

Which...did not happen. It wasn't until last year I got to go. I had been saving up since 2018 so that was like 5 years of waiting. Since 2018 though I had been collecting a lot of her films because I was rping Teresa (this is technically an rp blog for those who've recently followed me and don't know LOL). I wanted to find new films for icons, and I was learning Spanish, so it was really helpful and immersive for me. So that's how I started collecting her really hard to find films. I sent a few to her and she hadn't seen them since they premiered in the 90's, and she was so happy I made it my goal to find as many as I could!

Over the years she kept asking me when I was coming, and my voucher for my airline ticket was expiring soon, so Sam and I made plans to go in spring of 2023 :) The offer of coffee changed to dinner at their place. I ended up giving her a big hard drive of all the films I had found (and other gifts), in chronological order, which amounted to like, 80+ films and television shows, from 1976-1995. Instead of shock, she held the checklist I made for her and noticed the one's that were missing. She was like "Oh, I have that one. And that one. And that one too." They led me to their bedroom office and to a giant treasure trove of shelves filled with nothing but boxes and boxes full of her works, her call sheets, headshots, etc, soooo much stuff. It turns out she really did have those missing films, but they're in formats that are so old now there's not many places that can convert them into a watchable format :(

But there was so much to go through, and we had dinner with them twice, that they offered to let me come back in the fall of 2023 to organize and archive a lot of it, so that's what I did! I was there for about two and a half weeks in their apartment, working day and night essentially to try and organize and scan things. But with film negatives and slides it's difficult to get the technology to digitalize those things, so it was a slow process. But yeah! It was really fun, even though we were working most of the time (she's a super busy person) we got to go out and do things and have a lot of fun. I'm going back in the spring to help out some more cuz there's still so much work to do!

I just think it's very funny to see my transition from "omggg she's FOLLOWING ME she called me a FRIEND!" to "we have a groupchat and i am completely normal about it now and we work together" LOL.

[whatthe4355]

Lemme take a crack

You all heard it, you all thought you were going crazy. Until the news on the work tv changed the next day with a bright red headline. A billionaire was dead, one you'd never heard of. Your phone dinged, but before you could check it, the voice annouced two more were going to die. It certainly had a flair for drama, the voice. You check led you phone, seeing a notification from your banking app...sorry HOW MUCH WAS THAT?! The tag read: From the L shell corp, a donation to all transwomen. Transmen and nonbinaried genders are next.

The teen smiled serenly, staring at the black book, about five pages filled with neat handwriting and instructions. They look over their shoulders at a morose and gangly figure. It's voice was somewhere between the wheeze of a 50 year straight pack smoker and an opera singer with a sore voice

"Well shit. You did it alright, now what? Your little murder money maker is going to keep running indefinitely?"

"Oh, you underestimate me. It's all in these pages, but the goal is charity."

"Well, excuse me if I don't see the charity in all the murder about to happen."

"Oh, just a moment," the teen shuts the book and pulls out his phone, scrolling a social platform until he sees a redacted screenshot.

"How about now?"

The creatures eyes go wide, it sputters, "I

Wh. How?! You shouldn't be able to-"

"I may not, but a little influence on will writing can. And technically, since they die slowly, I can control what they do for 24 hours. Simple enough to have the first set up the shell corp in my name, then send all his funds into it. I'm stopping at around 20 million as the absolute maximum for anyone who was rich before this started. Of course, that list going to change quite a bit with all the new people on it."

"God, you don't mean their going to...?"

"Heavens no, that'd be pointless and the world's biggest hate crime. No, this way the minorities of the world will have some real power and a decent chance now."

The creature hummed, and sunk into a shadow. A knock on the door caught the teens attention.

"Kiddo? You okay?"

"Oh I'm fine."

"Come into the living room when you have a chance."

The teen nodded, and after tucking away the book, strolled out to the living room. There her mom and dad sat, holding an envelope. The teen sat calmly in an armchair, looking at them. Her father had been in a wheelchair since they were about 8. A bullet had paralyzed them from the waist down, protecting a hostage in the line of duty. What came after was crueler; the police department let him go without so much as a retirement plan, even harassing him on numerous occasions in public. Justice was long broken, and the teen was here to fix that.

"Sweetie...we got this envelope in a strange name...so we opened it and..."

"Well, it read that it was a donation to transwomen of the world. Now, I'm not transgender, nor I'd your mother. I don't want to force you but...we love you no matter what."

Tears coated the teens cheeks, "W-well, the thing is..."

One evening, in the sky, a message appeared: “In 24 hours, a billionaire will die.” Everyone everywhere on Earth could see it, in every language. Nobody could explain it. The next day, one of the richest men passed away. “In 24 hours, 2 billionaires…”

[adventure-with-loki]

["Alright, time to close! Good night!".]

🖐️ pause this is a part of a choose your own adventure. If you just found this you can start from the beginning here.

Written by: @likeitloveitblogit

Pairing: Loki x Reader/romantic

Summary: You decide not to let Loki know you have no plans for the holidays. But things change when Loki overhears your phone call.

Word Count: 2.2K

Warning: None

Well, Christmas was just next week. He was going to be completely alone, and, to be fair, you were too.

Was this inappropriate? Could you possibly lose your job because of this? Truth was, the sparks were evident, and perhaps inviting him over for dinner wouldn't necessarily be too bad. Maybe he would just politely decline, and you'd move on with your life and job as if nothing happened. Maybe he could come over and not tell anyone, and spend a lovely Christmas dinner with someone else other than your pets.

You sighed out. He looked at you expectantly, and you couldn't stop your words.

"Alright, time to close! Good night!"

Loki looks surprised by your abrupt response but he thanks you for the books for the day and heads towards the door.

Right then your phone rings. Almost no one ever actually calls you, so you didn't even notice that the ringer had been left on. You look at the caller ID and see that it is your mother. You decide that since you hardly hear from her and your shift is technically over you might as well answer. Better that, than listening to an angry voicemail about how kids these days have no respect for their parents. The fact that you were at work did not make one bit of a difference for her.

"Hello, Mom."

"Oh wow. Y/N? I didn't think you would answer. Always some excuse why you can't talk to your own mother. Ha ha."

Looks like you were in for a lecture anyway.

"I'm at work, so I can't talk for long."

"Oh dear, you work far too many hours. If you had gotten a nice job like your sister. Or a rich husband like your cousin you wouldn't have to work these crazy hours."

"Mom! What did you need?"

"No need to give me attitude. I was calling to give you good news. Your cousin was able to rent the larger cabin, so we can all have Christmas together this year after all. And I don’t want you to give me any grief about not coming. I know that you’re worried because you are single and you’re ashamed that you still haven’t found someone. But I still need you here to spend time with your family.”

“Wow, that is great news for all of you guys. That should be so much fun. But I am not..”

“Hello Darling, is that your mother on the phone?” You are shocked to see Loki appear at your side and take the phone out of your hand, “Hello Mrs. Y/L/N, your lovely child was getting ready to say that they are not single. So prepare a room for us at the cabin, we will be happy to see you there.”

“Uh uh uh, ok. That is what?”

“Send the details to their phone and I will set up the travel details for us.” Before your mother could respond Loki hung up and handed the phone back to you.

"Loki! What was that all about? Why did you tell my mother you would be coming to my family Christmas? Do you really think we can pass off some kind of fake dating thing?"

“Darling, I understand that I should have asked your permission first, but I have heard the way that your mother speaks to you and I couldn’t stand it. You are a truly spectacular person and you do not need a man to come in and save you, but I thought this would be a way to get your nosey mother off your back for a while. And fear not, I am the god of lies, I can pass any kind of fake scenario.” when he saw your reluctant look, he added “Plus what better way for me to learn about the Midgardian holiday traditions then to attend an actual traditional holiday celebration?”

And with that you realized there was no changing his mind, Loki was going to Christmas with your family. The next few hours passed quickly, packing your stuff, explaining to Tony why you were stealing his “guest” and scheduling a ride up to the cabin in the morning. You slept restlessly worrying what your family would think of Loki, and worse what Loki would think of your family.

In the morning the ride went quickly, and before you know it you and Loki arrive at the cabin. After quick introductions, you and Loki have the freedom on what you should do for the day.

Drinking Hot Cocoa

It had been far too early when you got up to make the trip and as soon as you get out of the car the freezing air hits your face and you already regret not packing warmer clothing. Your coat was a cute vintage one that was perfect for the city, but not nearly warm enough for the mountain air. You thought that you hid your discomfort well while doing introductions, but Loki knew you well enough to see through that. He suggested you both go inside and look for something warm to drink. You’re completely relieved to see that the cabin has a full cocoa making station set up. Different types: white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate. With different mix-ins: peppermint, sprinkles, salted caramel, marshmallows, creamer, little cookies. And of course whipped cream. At first Loki is a bit intimidated by all the choices, but eventually he just copies whatever you pick. The two of you talk about little things and favorite memories and sip your drinks as slowly as possible to savor the moment. Some of your family come and go as you sit at the breakfast bar, and they all seem to enjoy chatting with Loki.

Build a Snowman

Once the mugs have run dry, someone makes the suggestion that everyone goes outside to make snowmen. The snow was the perfect consistency for making snowmen, just wet enough to be shaped and just cold enough to hold together. You have to show Loki how to get started making the balls, but once you do he's a natural. At some point it becomes a competition to see who can create the biggest snowman. Obviously you and Loki's snowman is the clear winner, over any of the other teams.

Go Skiing/ Snowboarding

After the snowman competition your cousin reminds you that the cabin was part of a ski resort which offered skiing and snowboarding to guests. You are not sure about going because you were never great but Loki is overly confident from his snowman building success. But it turns out to be false confidence. As graceful as Loki is, there was something about skiing and snowboarding that Loki could not get the hang of. You try to help but that just leads to the both of you falling and stumbling down the mountain. Loki's pride makes him keep trying, first skiing and then snowboarding. Eventually you have to complain that you were too tired, to get him to stop and head back to the cabin early.

Sit by the Fire

Sore from the day's activity, you're happy to change into dry clothes. But you are disappointed to realize that you forgot to bring extra shoes or slippers with you. You're so cold and Loki notices you shivering, so he herds you over to the couches near the fireplace. Grabbing a blanket Loki snuggles in close to you. When you start to complain about getting too close, he reminds you that you're supposed to be "dating". You pretend to put up a fight but secretly you love being wrapped in his arm. Feeling his chest move behind your back as he breathes. The groups slowly return and join you, keeping up easy conversations about past Christmases and general embarrassing childhood stories.

Go Ice Skating

One of the cousins comes in and excitedly tells everyone that the lake was frozen enough this year to hold up to ice skating. Loki wants to redeem himself after failing at skiing and snowboarding. This time Loki is truly graceful. Skating circles around everyone else. At first he is super competitive but once he sees that you're not enjoying that he slows down. Instead skating along with you. Trying little bits of ice dancing with you. Only doing little spins to try and make you laugh.

Make Snow Angels

On the walk back from the lake you notice a pristine patch of snow that would be perfect for making snow angels. Angels aren’t part of the mythology of either Asgard or Jotunheim, so you have to explain before Loki understands what you are talking about. Once you explain, Loki is still confused, so you just flop down and show him how they are made. He can’t stop smiling watching as you flap your arms and legs around. As you get up, you show him the angel outline that you created. But when you tell him that it’s his turn, he tries to argue that he couldn’t possibly create something as beautiful as you had. But you won’t allow that kind of thinking and push him down right next to your angel. “You wouldn’t want them to be lonely, now flap your arms and legs already”. After Loki gets up you both marvel at how perfect the two angels look together.

Drink Warm Beverages

Yet again you arrive back at the cabin freezing. The cocoa from earlier was sounding so good, now that you were freezing again, but the cocoa station had been long since emptied out by the rest of the family. Instead you and Loki are able to find yourself some more grown up warm beverages. Loki decides to try a mulled wine that your sister had made using an old family recipe she dug up, that you suspect might have actually come off of Pinterest. You go for a spiced cranberry orange cider that your cousin had made. With everyone back for the day, the inside of the kitchen felt too crowded so the two of you decided to take your drinks out on the porch. You think of grabbing a blanket on your way out and the two of you snuggle on the porch swing enjoying your drinks. Watching as the snow continues to fall.

Eventually your drinks ran out and the blanket was not enough to keep away the cold, so you were forced back inside. All that ran through your mind was how it had been a truly wonderful day with Loki. But the moment you stepped inside you were immediately greeted by your mother who looked none too happy.

“Y/N, could I speak to you?” glaring at Loki who stood at your side, “alone.”

You nod and look back at Loki, “I’ll be right back”

Your mother hardly waits for you two to make it around the corner before she starts yelling.

"Your sister told me who that Loki person is. How could you bring some kind of evil, alien monster to your family’s peaceful holiday celebrations? You can't find anyone better to date than some kind of failed villain? Hunny, I expected so much better from you."

"Mom!? You have absolutely no right to say any of those things about Loki, you have no idea what he has been through. Did you do any research to see that he has been working with the Avengers for all this time to help protect the planet? No. And I know you haven’t been spending the last few weeks getting to know how sweet, smart, charming, caring, inquisitive, and just overall wonderful of a person he is. Loki is from another realm, yes but there is nothing wrong about that. He is nothing but a hero and a gentleman.”

Once you had made your point, you turned around and made your way back to Loki. Grabbing his arm, you quickly retreated back to the room that had been assigned to the two of you.

"Did you really mean all those things you said to your mother?"

"You heard that?"

Loki nods, waiting for you to answer his question.

"Good. Well not good that you heard my mother. But I'm glad you heard what I said. I meant every word of it. You are so incredible and I wish everyone could see that."

Suddenly you realize just how close the two of them are standing. How easy it would be for you to reach out and kiss. Clearly Loki is having the same thought, because he reaches to brush a stray hair, resting his hand on the side of your face Loki says "it's not fake dating if you let me take you on a real date"

You look into Loki’s eyes and can’t find your words, instead you lean up and plant your lips on Loki’s. The kiss was warm, you could still taste the spice of the mulled wine on his lips. It wasn’t rushed like first kisses often are, instead it felt like your lips were meant to be kissing his. Like this was exactly where the two of you belonged.

Eventually Loki breaks away from the kiss, “As much as I loved that, you didn’t answer my question. Do you want to go on a date? I need to actually hear you say it out loud.”

Choices:

Go on a date with Loki.  (Chapter coming soon, comment below if you want to be tagged when this chapter is released.)

Tell Loki this was a mistake and he should probably leave.  (Chapter coming soon, comment below if you want to be tagged when this chapter is released.)

Tags:

All

@vampire7595 @righteous-scamp @decemberflurries @brazenlittleminx @laufeysonluvr @gayboywap @bitchy-bi-trash @sheris532 @midnight-coffee-and-songs @user13cabs @qardasngan @p00p1b4tt @morelittlepupthoughts @rachelh1992 @losttheforestpath @im-gemmy @rissa-francis @apine7

[diegoiso]

[pm] Good. See? Just a greeting, but it made me smile, it reminded me of the familial bonds we share, and, now, I'm much more willing to help you out.

Well, since it's already going to be late, and if you don't mind Dad getting a hint to where we you are, might I recommend tourmaline? It's the state mineral of Maine! You might be able to trace some along the ley lines—if you're up for mining it out. That would improve the potency, right? (See, I pay attention!) Of course, it's not my area of expertise, but it's supposed to ward off negative energy. Or keep it in, in Dad's case. I'm sure there's someone local who could shape it, set it—unless Dad's the Himalayan salt lamp type? You have a better idea of what makes sense for him.

Look, making friends and saving Halloween? That's fantastic, Raul, really. The transmutation is... less so. I... could help? Try and change them back, I mean. They might end up with blue skin, but, personally, I'd rather be blue than have a tiny brain and feathers. If I'd been there, maybe they wouldn't be birds to begin with. But, no, of course not. Too technical for me, I'm sure. That's why it went so well, huh?

The less I hear about your symbolic fruits, the better, but botany? That I can handle. There is a shop in town: Everlasting Garden? The owner—his name is Oliver—gave me permission to use his shop as a backdrop for my clients, so I was planning to be a bit of a patron. Brighten up rooms, send bouquets when one of us inevitably breaks a local's heart. Or, in this case, to charm a new friend? What's a plant that toes the line between flirtatious and friendly?

Raul, you are my brother, and I love you, but I am not touching the MILF Monarchy with a ten-foot pole. And you should keep your pole away from anyone that would do it harm.

I've made more clients than friends here. Zero is a low bar to clear. But I sent a few postcards and some local knickknacks out, a few weeks ago. Few friends back in Brooklyn that live for kitsch, you know how it is.

[pm] merry Christmas Diego

yeah some, though Amazon hates me because of Dads gift, so back to drawing board for him.

really? Goddamn time and space, always fucking over my procrastination

uh yeah I’ve made some friends I think? Diego y’know I suck at non-Tinder stuff , where the person has to know me more the 24 hours. Your the one who gets more charming over time, i uh, have a quick expiration date

saved Halloween with one

did some science with some more, but they are either radiation rocks or giant birds now, so uh, might not need gifts now

There’s on online friend, we kind of talk about fruit throwing and burglary. Not sure if they want my symbolic fruits or it’s a strictly botanical relationship.

and I’m hobbnobbing with royalty, but yknow how MILF Monarchy is, one day your a favored courtier , the next your thirsty execution by an unfortunately literal Headsman,

how about you?

[archived-kin]

solomon deserves a husband so i'm giving him one (it's you)

note from kin: i don’t know HOW i’ve managed to get this out so soon after my last piece but i do know that it is a miracle (now watch me disappear for like a month lmao)

anyway there’s a severe lack of content for the boys in this fandom and therefore i am here to try to mitigate that!!

(as a heads up, this is sort of an au version of obey me’s story?? there’s no exchange program, and the general human world doesn’t know about the devildom or celestial realm, apart from sorcerers and similar special cases. solomon and simeon both still visit the devildom, though - solomon because he has a sort of job at the r.a.d., and simeon as an ambassador sort of thing for the celestial realm. the r.a.d.’s also less of a school and more of an organisation?? i haven’t really fleshed it out haha)

fandom: obey me!

character(s): male! reader, solomon, mammon (briefly), simeon (briefly)

pairing(s): solomon/reader

warning(s): blasphemy??? solomon disses god really briefly and that’s about it

genre: fluff!!!!!!!!!

As a general rule of thumb, Solomon doesn’t believe in destiny.

He’s lived long enough to know that, no matter what he does, the universe does not care about him, much less have some sort of plan for his future. The course that the world takes isn’t affected by some grand puppet master pulling the strings; one has to force the so-called path of fate in the direction they want it to take if they want something. Solomon knows this better than anyone.

It’s as much a downfall as it is a strength - as much as power as he’s amassed over the countless years, his constant need to challenge the universe’s power has lead him down a path far from humanity. There had been a time when he was like every other human on the Earth, when he was still young, full of hope and determination and promise, believing earnestly in some God high in the sky who would guide him through his life.

He shudders to think what sort of insufferable fool he’d been back then. An almighty God? Don’t make him laugh. The ruler of the Celestial Realm is incompetent at best, and a downright childish brat at worst. He doesn’t know how the angels put up with him - though he supposes his realm-smiting power is part of it. Why the universe chose to place such power on such a being’s shoulders will always be beyond him.

Long as it has been since he had been so naive, Solomon has learnt his lesson, to say the least. He’s seen people come and go, witnessed kings and queens reign and fall, watched on as friends and family live and die. It’s a truth that he’s been forced to learn across the years of his long, long life, a curse that he brought upon himself the moment he gave up the purity of his soul in pursuit of magical arts. 

He supposes he’s always had an insatiable thirst for the unknown - to play all his cards out front, to tempt fate’s hand, to jump into the void and hope to find ground beneath his feet when he lands. It’s that sort of reckless abandon and hunt for knowledge that has led him so far down this path, through so many years, across so many sleepless nights. The world continues to swirl around him, always changing, but Solomon refuses to be swept away. Because, even in the tumultuous movement of the universe, there has always been one constant that keeps him anchored - you.

The night he'd first met you isn’t as clear in his mind as he would have liked. He wants to be able to remember everything - the way the soft blue light of the will-o’-whisps had lit up your eyes in the dark of the night, the way that your hand had felt in his as you greeted him with a handshake, the way that you had said his name for the first time - in sharp detail, but Solomon knows better than to hope to recall something so long ago so perfectly.

He’d still been relatively new to a sorcerer’s life at the time - excited and determined and a little too full of himself. You… well, he doesn’t remember exactly, but he does remember thinking that you must be the most handsome being to exist. The you of today would probably shake your head and dismiss the past you as an obnoxious high hoper, but Solomon has loved you for so many years that he’s never been able to think of you as anything less than perfect.

There are times when he wondered how he managed to stumble upon such luck. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Solomon has has had truly insufferable periods over the years he’s known you, and he’s always considered it a miracle that you still chose to stay. Even through all the restless nights and the exhausting trips, even after all of the clashes and vexation, you have refused to give up on him.

He had asked you once, in the aftermath of an argument spurred by his inability to confide in you and your own frustration with his refusal to communicate. He remembers that night so vividly that it might well have happened just yesterday - the frustrated shouts, the shattering of glass, the warmth of your arms around his shoulders as he finally collapsed on himself. He doesn’t know what your face had looked like as he stuttered the question out in stuttering breaths, head buried in your shoulder in an effort to conceal his tears, but he imagines that it had been soft.

“I’m not going to leave you to yourself,” You had told him matter-of-factly, stroking his hair with such fondness  that it still sometimes brings a tear to his eye when he remembers it on particularly long nights. “And I’m not giving up on you, either - not now, not ever.”

Solomon had been unable to speak, too choked up by his feelings and the sudden, overwhelming love spreading through his entire body to reply. He’d only sunk deeper into your embrace, wishing that the moment could last forever.

I wonder if he still remembers that…?

“...lomon! Anyone home?!”

He jolts up from the table he’s sitting at so abruptly that he nearly knocks his head right into Mammon’s chin. The Avater of Greed, however, reacts quickly, and hops back before Solomon can break his jawbone.

“Jeez, you’re off on a different planet today,” He comments, setting his hands on his hips as Solomon shoots him the sort of look that tells him that he’s not particularly enthused about his presence at the moment. “What’s up with ya?”

Solomon isn’t quite sure how to answer. Sorry, I got distracted thinking about how perfect and lovely my husband is and how I’m the luckiest man in the entire world - nay, the universe - to have him. He nearly physically shudders at the thought of how much teasing he’d receive if he answered like that.

Instead, he chooses a much safer and still technically true option. “Just thinking about going home today.”

Mammon nods in understanding, pulling up a seat next to him and throwing himself down into it without much grace. “I feel ya. S’ been a long day.”

“You’ve barely done anything today,” Solomon quips flatly, not particularly impressed by the demon’s attempt at… empathy? Relatability? Either way, it isn’t working. “I doubt it’s been that hard.”

“Now, now, Solomon, let’s not be rude,” interjects a soft voice from behind them. Simeon is still dressed in his fancy envoy cloak - the one so long and heavy that it trails along behind him like a bridal train, decorated with a number of elaborate golden charms that jingle as he moves.

Solomon attempts to shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but it’s kind of hard to stay irritated by one of the literal embodiments of holiness and light, even if he wakes you up at very unholy hours of the morning to help him figure out how to answer an email. Solomon isn’t ungrateful for the new age of technology descending on humanity, but he’d like it a lot better if it hadn’t somehow reached the angels as well. The amount of times he’s had to tell Simeon that he needs to actually turn his D.D.D. on before he starts calling someone is… embarrassing, to say the least.

“You’re back in the Devildom, I see,” He observes as the angel pulls up a seat and sits beside him. “Did Michael send you down again?”

Simeon nods with a smile. “There were some arrangements that needed to be made with Lord Diavolo. Naturally, I volunteered.”

“Naturally,” Solomon echoes, raising a brow at his friend. “I don’t suppose your biases had anything to do with your decision?”

“Well, they may have had some effect,” Simeon answers with a shameless smile and shrug, beginning to undo the tassels of his heavy cloak and draping it on the back of chair he’s sitting on. He’s still wearing all of his regular clothes underneath it - including the other, much smaller cloak. Solomon wonders how he hasn’t somehow melted in the heat.

“When’re you gonna start heading home, anyway?” Mammon asks, beginning to pick at a loose thread on his jacket sleeve. “It’s gettin’ late.”

Solomon blinks and looks up at the clock. “...ah, you’re right. In that case, I'll get going now.”

Mammon shoots him an odd look as he pushes himself up from the table and reaches for his bag, managing to hoist it onto his shoulder with some effort. He’s never been particularly good at heavy lifting - you’re usually the one helping him carry everything around the house.

“Oi, oi, what’s the rush?” the demon asks as Solomon adjusts the weight of his bag and starts heading for the door. “You on a timer or something?”

“I promised [Name] I’d be home earlier tonight,” is Solomon’s slightly absent-minded reply as he fiddles about in his pocket to find his transportation charm, nearly losing his balance and dropping his bag in the process. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

Mammon watches him in clear confusion for a moment as he pats down his pockets, mumbling a quiet curse under his breath as he realises that he’s left his charm at home again. How many times this month does that make it now...? He supposes that he could always perform a teleportation spell, but knowing his luck with those, he’ll probably end up somewhere in Morocco again.

“Oi, Simeon,” Mammon hisses to the angel, who cocks his head slightly to the side and leans over so as to hear him more clearly. “Who’s this ‘[Name]’ Solomon’s talkin’ about?”

“You don’t know?” Simeon blinks at him in blatant perplexion - as if he can’t even fathom the idea that Mammon might not know who Solomon’s talking about. “He’s talking about his husband.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Then—

“Solomon has a HUSBAND!?” Mammon practically shrieks, completely flabbergasted. “I thought he was totally, like, the forever alone type!”

“Don’t tell me you’ve never noticed?” is Simeon’s bewildered response. “Who do you think Solomon is always talking about buying groceries for?”

“I thought he was just buyin’ them for himself!” Mammon fires back, looking far more ruffled and shocked than he probably should be. He whips around to look at Solomon, who’s flicking through the little packet of blank charms he keeps on him at all times in an effort to find the right one to create a temporary transportation charm. He’s had to do it so many times this month that he’s already beginning to run out. “You’re married?!”

“Of course,” Solomon answers vaguely, briefly raising his left hand, allowing Mammon to spot the soft glint of a ring around his fourth finger. “You’re not?”

“Wh— ‘course I’m not!” Mammon exclaims, positively scandalised by the very concept. “Why would I get married, huh?! It’s a waste of time and a waste of money!”

“Think whatever you like,” Solomon dismisses him easily, which only seems to irritate Mammon further.

Finally having found the right blank charm, he plucks it out and begins carefully tracing patterns onto it with a single glowing finger. He’s dimly aware of Mammon furiously whispering to Simeon in the background, with the angel responding in kind, most likely sharing some exaggerated story from back when the three of you had worked together - when Solomon had accepted a job from the Celestial Realm. The details of the whole thing are a little fuzzy to him now, long as it has been, but he’s almost completely sure that Simeon somehow still remembers the whole thing flawlessly.

“How old even is he?!” He hears Mammon hiss.

“I’m not so sure myself,” Simeon replies, placing his chin in a thoughtful hand. “Let’s see… their two millennial anniversary’s coming up in about two years, and I remember Solomon saying that they got married when he was around two hundred or so… which means he’s about twenty-one hundred years old.”

“Holy shit,” Mammon mutters in disbelief, turning glance at the sorcerer as he starts folding down the corners of his charm into the right shape. “Humans aren’t supposed to live that long. How’s his husband still alive, then?”

“That isn’t really a question for me to answer,” Simeon shakes his head slightly. “I suppose you can always ask him yourself if Solomon ever brings him to work with him.”

“I doubt it,” Solomon speaks up for the first time since announcing his departure. “He’s usually busy during the day. Besides, transportation charms make him queasy, and I’m not making him walk all the way down here.”

“Aren’t you a wizard?” Mammon asks, scratching his head. “Just do one of ya fancy teleportation spells. Why d’you need a charm?”

Solomon sighs. He hates to admit it, but he can’t be bothered to make up some other reason to cover up for himself. “I’m afraid that teleportation spells aren’t actually particularly accurate. We could end up somewhere in the Pacific if I’m not careful.”

Mammon looks thunderstruck. “Then what about all those times you’ve teleported us?! Don’t tell me we coulda ended up in, like, the Archaic Pit or something?!”

“Well, it was always a possibility,” Solomon shrugs in reply, finishing the charm with a deft flick of his hand. “You’re a demon, I sure you could have handled yourself.”

“But…!” Mammon crosses his arms and turns away like a grumpy child. “Hmph…”

“Do say hello to [Name] for me, will you?” Simeon requests as Solomon turns to open the door, ignoring the sulking demon sitting beside him. “We haven’t been able to talk for a while.”

“You text him every day, don’t you?” Solomon asks, shooting him an unimpressed look. “I’d say that’s conversation enough.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be stingy,” Simeon countered with a smile, tilting his head slightly to the side and leaning forward. “Besides, one misses the presence of an actual person after a while of nothing but electronic communication... especially texting is so difficult. Tell him he’s always welcome to come around for some tea - Luke would be happy to see him.”

Solomon shakes his head, but makes a sound of affirmation nevertheless. You had mentioned that you’ve missed seeing Simeon since he’d started the whole negotiator businesss, and he isn’t the sort of person to deny you the company of a friend. “I’ll let him know. Anyway, I should really be going now…”

“Have a safe journey!” Simeon calls after him as he swings the door open and sweeps out. Solomon waves a hand over his shoulder in response, then disappears down the corridor, most likely to a quiet spot in the courtyard to use his charm. He’s been banned from using them indoors ever since he accidentally shattered one of the fancy artifacts in the assembly hall and sent hundreds of shards flying everywhere. Apparently Barbatos is still finding tiny pieces of glass in the crevices of the floor.

“Why didn’t Solomon ever say anythin’?” Mammon asks Simeon after a moment of quietude. “Seems like the sorta thing you’d mention.”

“Solomon’s a private man,” Simeon says with a shrug. “Besides, he and [Name] have made plenty of enemies over the years, and you’d be shocked by how quickly names and locations can spread…”

“Does he mind us knowin’ about it, then?”

“Well, personally, I’ve known for a while,” Simeon answers, “And I’m sure the others will have worked it out by now - Solomon’s always finding ways to mention [Name] in passing. But no, I’m sure he doesn’t mind. He’d say something if he did.”

Mammon nods and goes silent for a little while. Then he asks, “What’s this [Name] like, then? Must be some guy if Solomon liked him enough to put a ring on him and keep him for that long.”

“Well, let’s see…” Simeon drums his fingers thoughtfully against the tabletop. “He has quite the penchant for raising deadly plants, he hasn’t gone more than a full month without exploding something or another for about five centuries, he takes clocks apart in his spare time, he likes his coffee with a touch of vanilla, he collects cursed books, he makes a lovely butterscotch-cinnamon pie, and he works as a curse breaker for hire.”

It takes a moment for Mammon to process all of the information that’s just been dumped on him. “...sounds like the kinda guy Satan would get along with.”

“I thought so as well,” Simeon agrees. “Their house even reminds me of Satan’s room, in a way… [Name] is quite the avid reader.”

“What, you’ve been?”

“Only once,” Simeon’s eyes flutter closed for a moment as he reminisces. “Quite a long time ago now. I wouldn’t know where to find it even if I wanted to go again, though - it’s always moving.”

“Do they move house a lot, then?”

Simeon shakes his head. “Oh, no, no. They’ve lived in the same house for centuries - it’s the house that moves itself.”

Mammon pauses. “...what?”

“The building,” Simeon clarifies. “They’ve got an enchantment on the whole thing that makes it change locations every couple of weeks or so.”

“But… why?”

Simeon shrugs. “[Name] doesn’t like staying in one place for too long.”

“Still, isn’t that a bit much…?” Mammon pulls a face. “They could always just travel, ya know…”

“As Solomon said, transportation talismans make [Name] feel queasy,” Simeon explains. “And he prefers not to use teleportation spells when it comes to him, just in case they end up somewhere dangerous.”

“And he doesn’t care about the rest of us ending up somewhere dangerous?” Mammon huffs and collapses forwards onto the table.

“Well, you can’t really compare the two,” Simeon says patiently as the demon continues to mutter indignantly under his breath. “He’s his husband, and we’re essentially just his friends from work.”

Mammon opens his mouth to make a rebuttal, then thinks about it for a moment and changes his mind. After a moment, he comments, a little less resentfully, “Well, you’d think he’d at least introduce us.”

“He’s been planning to for a while, actually,” Simeon tells him. “Give him some time and he’ll probably bring it up on his own.”

Mammon nods. “He’d better!”

“I’m home.”

You look up from the book you’re reading and hop down from your seat on the roof just in time to see Solomon emerge from the back garden, looking noticeably dishevelled, with leaves decorating his head like some sort of fancy accessory.

“Welcome back!” You greet him happily, setting the book aside and moving forward to start picking the leaves from his hair. Solomon smiles softly at you as you take his bag in one hand and start pulling him to the front door with the other. “You forgot your talisman again, by the way.”

“I noticed,” He laughs, gently removing your hand from his upper arm and wrapping his fingers around it instead. “Why else do you think I ended up in the hedges again?”

“It’s a wonder that you’ve had to make these temporary talismans so many times and you still haven’t gotten one right yet,” You tease in reply, nudging him in the shoulder. “How many points is that on the tally now, then?”

“Ten for the basement, seven for the roof, and eleven for the hedges now,” He answers with a small pout as you laugh. “Honestly, you’d think I would have learnt my lesson...”

“You never do, love.” 

The door creaks as you and your husband enter the house, only to immediately be greeted by a bundle of scales hitting you head-on. You manage to keep your footing and steady yourself on the doorway; Solomon isn’t so lucky, and ends up laying spread-eagled on the floor with about two hundred kilograms of excited adolescent dragon purring on his chest.

“Looks like Triton missed you,” You comment with a bright smile, setting Solomon’s bag down beside the umbrella rack and leaning over to give the dragon a scratch behind his left horn, just the way he likes it. He rumbles happily and jingles the little bell around his neck at you. “Isn’t he getting big?”

“I saw him this morning, [Name],” Solomon wheezes from his position on the floor, somehow managing to reach up and tickle Triton’s chin with one hand despite the dragon’s weight. “He can’t have grown that much in ten hours.”

“You never know!” You tell him, reaching up and wrapping your arms around Triton’s neck. He coos in a delighted fashion and raises his head, setting it heavily on your shoulder. Solomon uses the brief lightening of the weight on him to take in a deep breath as you allow your dragon to nuzzle furiously into your neck. “Dragons are unpredictable, you know.”

“Believe me, I do,” He sighs tiredly as Triton blows out a pleased puff of hot air and knocks the clock off the wall again. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, Triton, I’d quite like to get back up again.”

The dragon blinks and raises his head from your shoulder, glancing down at the sorcerer that he’s crushing under his weight. Then he huffs and turns away again.

“Oh, you—!” Solomon curses as the dragon seems to press even harder into him. Your laughter rings out across the hall, and while he’d normally take a moment to admire the sound, he’s a little preoccupied. “[Name], stop laughing and help me!”

“He’s like a rebellious teenager!” You splutter helplessly in reply, voice still trembling slightly out of mirth. Triton makes a happy noise as you reach up and rub his scaly cheeks, his ears fluttering slightly. “Awww, you’re really growing up, aren’t you, baby? Your poor dads are really going to have their work cut out for them, huh?”

“Hey,” Solomon calls reproachfully from beneath Triton’s enormous chest. “Your husband’s still being crushed down here.”

“Oh, right!” You click your tongue and give Triton a meaningful look. He grumbles but obeys nevertheless, hopping off of Solomon (though not without knocking all the air out of him by using his chest as a launchpad) and scampering off, most likely to go play with the salamanders that have set up shop in the storage room again.

“I’ll never understand how you manage him so well,” Solomon sighs as you bend down to pull him to his feet, rubbing at the sore spot on his chest. “He never listens to me.”

“Aw, he loves you, really,” You reassure him, taking his hand and pressing a comforting kiss to his knuckles. “He just likes roughhousing with you.”

Solomon shakes his head, wanting to complain further about the big lizard that the two of you had adopted six months ago after the last one grew up and flew the nest, but then he sees the smile on your face, and he feels the flicker of irritation in his chest die down almost immediately. It’s at times like this that he’s really reminded of how absolutely worth it all of the nonsense he has to put up with at work is - because, at the end of the day, you are here, with your warm eyes and your lovely smile, with your comforting hands and your warm embrace, and there is no road too long to walk if you are waiting for him at the end of it.

“I know,” He sighs, tugging off his shoes and stepping into his favourite pair of slippers - the ones with the little cat faces printed on them that you’ve charmed to always maintain a perfect temperature for his feet. He glances at your own feet and notes that you’re wearing your matching pair as well.

The two of you have long since set up a routine for this sort of occasion, and you both fall into it with unconscious ease. Solomon changes into something more comfortable while you put the kettle on in the kitchen, and the two of you inevitably spend so long snuggled up together on the largest armchair in the living room, unwilling to leave the warmth of each other’s presence, that the water cools down, and you end up having to put it back on again. Then you sit together at the table, you with a coffee with a dash of vanilla and him with his favourite chrysanthemum tea that you always brew just the way he likes it. Sometimes you’ll sit side by side, shoulders pressed up against each other as you show him the specifics of your latest curse-breaking commission, and sometimes you’ll sit across from each other, holding hands across the tabletop as he tells you about his day.

Today it is the former, but Solomon can’t help but zone a little out of the detailed deep-dive you’re giving him about the intricacies of the spell that’s cursed this teapot to shoot its contents at anyone who attempts to fill it. It isn’t that your explanation is boring - quite the contrary, in fact; Solomon could probably listen to you describing the most mundane or trivial of things on loop for the rest of his life and be perfectly content with it. No, it’s more to do with the fact that this is the first time he’s been home before dark in a long while, and he can’t help but revel in the fact that he can spend time with you like this again. Of course, there’s something wonderful in coming home to be able to collapse into bed beside you and bury his face in the crook of your neck, drifting to sleep as you burrow closer to him even in your sleep, but Solomon can’t run off of that forever - he needs to see you with your eyes open as well, after all. 

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?” You ask as you note the far-off look on your husband’s face. You’re not offended in the slightest by the way he starts at the directed question, evidently guilty, but you are a little puzzled. “Is there something wrong?”

Solomon’s mouth falls open slightly, then shuts again. There’s something about the way you’re looking at him so earnestly that makes his heart stutter like nothing else. Honestly, you’d think he’d be used to this after nearly two thousand years, but it seems that he’s still as weak for you as he was on the very first day of your marriage. “...I suppose I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

“You always have a lot on your mind,” You counter softly, giving his hand a brief squeeze. “Come on, you can tell me.”

He laughs quietly, bringing your linked hands up to his face and gently holding yours to the side of his face; you, in turn, unfurl your fingers from around his and rub his cheek affectionately. After a moment, a fond smile pulling at his lips, Solomon replies, “I’ve… missed you a lot this week.”

You pause in mild surprise, but it quickly turns to endearment as Solomon presses his body even closer to yours. The hand that you’re using to hold your mug of coffee moves to settle on his shoulder as you pull him closer. “Really now? What a coincidence. I’ve missed you lots as well, love.”

He chuckles a little bashfully, his cheeks flushing. It seems that your ability to fluster him hasn’t declined even a bit over the years. He’s still well and truly besotted.

You can’t help but find it rather amusing that, despite already having spent a good hour and a half or so in the living room, bundled so close together in the blankets that you could feel his breath on your skin, the two of you are still nestling so close together now. You suppose it’s the effects of a week with much less contact than usual.

You lean forward and press a kiss to his jaw before pulling back again, reaching for your coffee and taking a sip. Solomon exhales softly, pulling his own drink towards him and draining the last of the tea in a single mouthful.

“You know,” He says, setting his empty cup down on the table. “One of my coworkers was asking about you earlier.”

“‘Coworkers’,” You snort at his choice of language, earning a reproachful poke in the side as punishment. “Come on, just admit that they’re your friends.”

“Fine,” He sighs. “One of my friends, then - Mammon, the one that Lucifer’s stringing up all the time.”

“The one with white hair?” You recall, thinking back to the group photo that Simeon had sent you a while back. “He’s the Avatar of Greed, right?”

“That’s the one,” Solomon nods. “Apparently he never noticed that I was married.”

“Well, you can’t really blame him,” You say, giving him a playful nudge. “Honestly, the way you keep your mouth shut, you’d think I was some shameful secret or something.”

Solomon looks scandalised by the very idea - it had only been a little joke, but his eyes flash with such affront that it’s almost as if someone has genuinely called you such a thing. “Of course not! I’d never—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I was joking,” You cut him off before he can get more riled up. Solomon calms down quickly once you set a comforting hand on his knee, though he still looks a little indignant. “I know why you don’t like talking about us much, but really, it’s okay. They’re your friends, aren't they?”

He hesitates, then nods, releasing another deep sigh soon afterwards. “I suppose. There isn’t much I can really do about it at this point anyway… according to Simeon, most of them have somehow figured it out already.”

“They’re probably a lot smarter than you give them credit for, Sol,” You hum, reaching up and brushing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes for him. “They’re demons, after all. They’ve lived even longer than us.”

“Believe me, they really aren’t.” Solomon shakes his head, a frown pinching at his brow at the very memory of the amount of things that his coworkers have done recently - some of the most notable being Diavolo setting an entire flock of geese free in the courtyard for an ‘experiment’, Levi quite literally throwing himself out of a window just to win a bet against Mammon about who could get down the stairs faster, Asmo causing a stampede in the main hall by dropping and shattering a bottle full of a powerful aphrodisiac potion that became even more powerful once released into the air, and Lucifer accidentally breaking one of Solomon’s favourite cauldrons when he’d transformed into his demon form and inadvertently smacked halfway across the room it with one of his upper wings.

“I’d really love to meet them some day,” You sigh, swirling the contents of your mug around. “They sound like fun.”

“Trust me, the trouble isn’t worth it—” Solomon attempts to reason with you, but he gives up laughably quickly as you pout at him in protest. “Oh, fine. But don’t blame me if you get sick because of the charm again.”

“We don’t have to use the charm,” You shake your head. “Just do a teleportation spell!”

“You know that that’s risky,” Solomon sighs, chucking you under the chin and leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose. You laugh as he draws back again, a pleased smile rising on his face at your reaction. “We could end up anywhere.”

“You’ve teleported them a bunch of times, though, haven’t you? And you haven’t ended up in Texas or the Sahara Desert any of those times!”

The resemblance to his earlier conversation with Mammon and Simeon is almost uncanny. “That’s different. I was still teleporting them within the Devildom, not across an entire realm barrier… and besides, I can afford the risk with them. You’re a different story.”

You pout again, shoulders dropping in defeat, though it doesn’t escape Solomon’s notice that his sentiment seems to have appeased you at least a little. “...guess we’ll just have to use a transportation talisman, huh…?”

“That’s your only option if you really want to visit, yes.”

You go quiet for a moment or two, nose wrinkling and face scrunching as you think it over. Solomon doesn’t mind the lack of conversation - he entertains himself by studying your features, wondering for perhaps the millionth time how he managed to find someone like you.

Finally, a determined look rising on your face, you nod and proclaim, “Then I’ll do it!”

Solomon cocks his head slightly to the side. He can’t say he’s surprised by your eagerness, but he had expected it to take you longer to make up your mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but tou answer his question before he’s even asked it, a skill that you’d managed to pick up within the first year or so of knowing him.

“I really wanna see what you actually get up to when you work,” You explain, looking a little sheepish. “You’ve had a job there for nearly two years and I’ve never even said a word to the people you work with.”

Solomon laughs. “It isn’t usually a requirement in the workplace. Wear appropriate uniform, bring any equipment you need, introduce your husband to your coworkers within the decade…”

“Still, I’d feel bad if I didn’t at least meet them,” You say. “Besides, I want to see Simeon as well. You said he’s working down in the Devildom for a bit as well, didn’t you?”

“Why are you so eager to see him, huh?” Solomon’s tone is light and teasing, so you know not to take him seriously as he puts on an hurt expression. “I’m offended. Your dear husband’s right here and you’re thinking about some angel.”

“Oh, stop it, you,” You shake your head in slightly exasperated amusement as he runs a finger down his cheek in lieu of a tear. “You know it’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” He pulls an exaggeratedly petulant face and pretends to turn away like an upset child. “Sometimes I feel like you love him more than me.”

“Simeon’s a lovely guy, but you’re still the only guy for me, you doof,” You tell him, tapping fondly at the cheek he’s turned to you with your free hand. Solomon obligingly turns back around to look at you, a grin pulling at his mouth. “Why would I marry you and then stay here for two thousand years if you weren't?”

“I guess I always assumed it was out of pity or something,” He jokes in response, leaning forward and briefly brushing his nose against yours. “And, just so you know, you’re the only guy for me as well.”

“I’d better be,” is your lighthearted reply as he pulls away. After a moment, looking at him expectantly, you begin tentatively, “So…?”

He sighs, but gives you a smile nevertheless. “I’ll ask Diavolo. He probably wouldn’t mind if I brought you without asking first, but Lucifer definitely would.”

“What’ll we do if they hate me?” You ask. “Do demons actually eat humans?”

“They wouldn’t dare,” He replies firmly. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Besides, they won’t hate you. I doubt anyone could.”

You laugh and drop your head to rest on his chest. “You’re too nice to me, love.”

Solomon turns to wrap both his arms around your shoulders, setting his chin on the crown of your head. You smile into his jumper, looping your own arms around his waist and pushing yourself closer to him.

“I’m not just being nice. Honestly, [Name], you’re kind of the most perfect man in the universe.”

[rowyn-writes]

Confidence (Jack x Reader)

Warnings: Fluff, strong language, arguing siblings

Pairings: Jack Kline x Winchester!Reader

Characters: Sam, Dean, Jack, Castiel (mentioned only,) Claire (mentioned only.)

Word Count: 2124

Summary: You start to notice that Jack tends to stay by your side whenever he can.

Requested by: @nancyangel​

Part Two: Dying From a Broken Heart

You sat in your room in the bunker, casually reading on of your many books that lined your walls. You were a bookworm, much like you older brother, Sam. You liked being by yourself with your books and a cup of coffee, as cliche as it sounds.

Right now, you needed an escape from your world and into another one where you know how everything ends. Your half brothers, Sam and Dean we're currently trying to figure out a way to get their mother back from apocalypse world.

You were John's daughter, being the youngest Winchester there was. Along with being the baby of the family, your brothers were over protective of you.

Most of the time you weren't allowed out on a hunt, so you stayed in the bunker and helped with lore and things like that while Sam and Dean would do the hunting.

Lately, however, you were getting more involved, much to your brother's dismay. You loved Sam and Dean with all your heart, but they could be overbearing at times.

You closed your book when you heard a knock on your door. "It's open." You called.

Jack popped his head into the room. "Hey, Y/n. Can I come in?" He asked.

"Sure." You nodded.

Jack took a seat on the chair that sat in front of your small desk. "What's up?"

"Sam and Dean are going on a hunt and I was wondering if you were going?" This was news to you. You're had no idea that your brothers were going on a hunting trip.

You frowned as you go up off your position on the bed. "Now I am." You said, getting your bag ready. "You coming too?"

"Yes." Jack nodded. You told him to finish packing while you did the same.

"Going somewhere, gentlemen?" You asked just as Sam and Dean were about to walk out of the bunker.

Dean let his head fall as he sighed. "You're not coming."

"The hell I'm not." You snapped.

"Dean's right." Sam agreed. "You should sit this one out."

You let out a frustrated grunt. "C'mon. Why are you still treating me like I'm twelve? I'm almost 22."

"You're not ready, Y/n."

"I'm not ready?" You scoffed. "But you let Jack go, and technically, he's barely three months old."

"That's different." Dean said.

"How?! How is that different?! I grew up hunting with you guys and Dad, I know what to do!" You argued.

"It's different because you'll die if something happens! Jack has powers and can defend himself! You don't!" Dean hissed.

"This is ridiculous!" You huffed.

"Maybe next time, Y/n." Sam gave you a smile, which you didn't return. "Alright, Jack!" Sam called out. "Let's go!"

Jack appeared beside them in a second, making you jump slightly. "See you later, Y/n." Dean said. He looked like he wanted to give you a hug but decided against it, because you might knee him in the groin if you had the chance.

"You're not coming, Y/n?" Jack asked, seeming disappointed.

"Apparently not."

Jack seemed to hesitate by the door. "On second thought, I think I'll stay here. You guys don't really need my help, do you?"

Sam and Dean seemed surprised by his change of plans. Jack had been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while. "I guess not." Sam said. And with that, they were gone.

"Why didn't you go with them?" You asked Jack. "You've been wanting to go on a hunting trip with them for a while, so why did you back out?"

"I thought you could use the company." He shrugged.

.

. .

. . .

Sam and Dean returned about two days later, clearly pleased that you and Jack had stayed at the bunker. You had thought of finding you own case, maybe even hunting with Claire, but decided against it.

But that doesn't mean you still weren't pissed at your brothers. They kept treating you like you were five, when you were 21. It was infuriating. That's why you were determined to find a case.

"Hey, so look what I found." You said, holding your computer up to your brothers. "Five people dead. All found without their hearts. However, there was six victims. One survived. If we can find out who's killing these people, we can put down the son of a bitch."

"Where's this happening at?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Little Rock, Arkansas."

Dean nodded his head. "Okay. Sammy, pack your things, Y/n, send us the address. We'll call you when you get there."

"Wait a minute." You protested. "You said that I would get to come with you on the next hunt! This is the next hunt."

"No."

"No?"

"No. You're not coming."

"Oh come on!" You yelled angrily. "You have got to be kidding me! You promised that you would take me out on the hunt!"

"I never promised." Dean reminded her. "I never make promises I can't keep. You know that."

"You're being ridiculous! C'mon Sam, back me up here." You looked over to the man, giving him pleading eyes.

"I think Y/n's right Dean." He agreed. "We've seen what she can do, handling a werewolf or two isn't anything she can't handle."

Dean frowned, looking back and forth between you and Sam. "I'm not gonna win this argument, am I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. Go pack your things. Tell Jack to do the same." You nodded, calmly walking away. But as soon as you were out of sight from Sam and Dean, you gave a tiny squeal and did a little dance.

"Are we celebrating something?" Jack asked from behind you, making you jump slightly.

You gave him a big smile. "That we are, Jack. Sam and Dean are letting us go on a hunt! So pack your bags, we leave in an hour!"

You quickly packed your bag full of clothes and other essentials and put them in the trunk of the Impala.

Jack sat in the back seat with you; it was only logical, since Sam was the Jolly Green Giant and could barely fit back there.

While you loved the Impala, you did not love the kind of music that played constantly. As Sam once put it, "It's the greatest hits of Mullet Rock." So you had brought your phone and a pair of earbuds.

"What are you doing?" Jack asked curiously.

"Listening to music."

"But Dean has music playing?" He furrowed his eyebrows, making your heart soar at his cute little scrunched up face.

"Yeah, well, Dean and I have very different tastes in music. Here, listen to this." You gave him the other earbud you had.

Jack seemed to like your selection of music, as he grinned as the song played on. After a while of driving, your legs began to cramp. Whether you were tall or short, being in the back of the Impala for a long time did nothing to help your legs.

You tried to find a position where you weren't invading Jack's bubble, as not to touch him because you didn't know how he would react.

"You can stretch out your legs." Jack said, as if reading your thoughts. "I don't mind." You gave him a grateful smile as you rested your legs in his lap.

About four hours in, you began to doze off. Car rides were always relaxing to you, seeing your surroundings blur as you sped past, feeling the Impala rock beneath you, and being able to spread out in the back seat.

Although, you couldn't count how many times you had to disinfect the back seat because of your brothers. Mostly Dean.

You were woken up rather unpleasantly by Dean. You had been leaning against the door of the Impala when he yanked the door open, causing you to tumble out of the car. "Thanks for the awesome wake-up call, dick." You growled.

"No problem, fuck-face." He grinned as he helped you up. You grabbed your stuff and checked into your motel room.

It was like every other motel you've ever stayed at, rock hard beds, ugly wall patterns, and a small box T.V.

You went ahead and changed into your FBI clothes, a light blue button down shirt tucked into a pair of black jeans, matching boots and a blazer. "You boys ready?" You asked, exiting the bathroom to see all of them had changed into their uniforms.

You all piled into the Impala once more and headed to the local police station, and then to the hospital.

.

. .

. . .

You had found out nothing. There was no victimology, no connection, nothing. You figured there wouldn't be a pattern, it was a werewolf, after all.

You did know, however, that the werewolf was a Purebred, as the moon cycle didn't line up with the victims deaths.

And the surviving victim was a fifteen year old girl. Thankfully, she hadn't been bitten. But she was in so much shock that she couldn't remember her attackers face.

"Poor girl." You commented, shrugging off your blazer. "She's never going to be the same."

"She'll learn to cope." Dean assured you. "Okay, so Jack and I are gonna go to where the bodies were found and dig around a little, you and Sam stay here and see what you can find out about this town. See if there's any kind of pattern with the killings."

"Actually, could I stay here with Y/n and help her?" Jack asked.

Dean looked taken aback slightly. "Uh, yeah, sure kid. Sammy, let's go." Once the two brothers were in the car, Dean looked over at Sam. "Jack has a crush on Y/n." He frowned.

Sam snorted. "Okay? And you couldn't tell that before? I kinda thought it was obvious."

Dean cuffed Sam. "Alright, Captain Jack-ass. I was just saying maybe we shouldn't leave Y/n and Jack alone."

"Oh, please." Sam scoffed. "Nothing's gonna happen."

You got out your laptop and sat on one of the beds. You noticed that Jack was watching you from the couch. It was obvious be wanted to say something.

"Hey, Jack?"

"Yes, Y/n?" He looked excited to see that you engaged in a conversation with him first.

"How come you wanted to stay behind with me?"

"Oh, did you want me to go with Dean?" Jack seemed disappointed.

"No, no. That's not it!" You assured him quickly. He looked extremely relieved to hear that. "I was just curious. On the last hunt that Sam and Dean went on, you decided to stay behind with me too. And whenever I go out to grab food or something, you always come with me. I love your company, so please don't take that the wrong way. I was just wondering."

Jack thought over your words for a few moments before answering. "I don't really feel confident around anyone. Sometimes I feel like another burden onto Sam, Dean and Cas. But with you, I feel like I'm not judged."

"You're not judged by any of us, Jack. You know that." You frowned.

"I know that, I just can't help but feel that way sometimes. But things are different with you. I feel confident and safe, like I can be myself whenever you're around. I enjoy being around you, Y/n."

You felt your heart melt at Jack's words. You felt exactly the same way about him. While growing up, you never really had boyfriends, just a one night stand here and there (which your brothers definitely didn't know about.)

"Jack." You started. "Do you see me the same way you see Sam and Dean?"

"No. It feels different. I can't really explain it. It's like. . . When I'm with you, I can feel my heart start to beat faster, and my palms get kind of sweaty. I don't do that when I'm around Sam and Dean." He explained.

You smiled as you realized what he was saying. "Jack, I think that means you have a crush on me."

"Crush you?!" Jack looked startled. "I would never hurt you!"

"No, no, no! That's not what I meant." You sighed as you tried to break it down to him. "It means you really like someone, but not as a friend. Kind of like a boyfriend or girlfriend."

Realization dawned on Jack as he soaked in your words. "Then can I be your boyfriend?" He asked eagerly.

You gave a small laugh. "Yeah, you can." You kissed him on the cheek. Jack's face became pink under your gaze.

"Could I kiss your lips?" You didn't answer as your lips brushed over his.

"Does that answer your question?" He nodded happily as a smile formed on his face. He felt happy and safe with you standing in front of him.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I was thinking about making a part two? Tell me what you think!

[echo-three-one]

Chapter 39

The Road So Far

Is this still worth it?

The SEVEN Inch Wound

Gary 'Roach' Sanderson

Task Force 141 Base - Gym

Roach finally got his seal of approval. After weeks of physical therapy and daily check ups, he was now finally fit for battle and he was lucky enough that Nero was still under the radar. He wouldn't want to miss out on the battle he started. He was lucky enough that they were exonerated when Shepherd surrendered, because if they continued to be fugitives, Roach would not have access to appropriate medical attention.

It has been almost a month after the events in Afghanistan and Task Force 141 was already re-established, Samantha and Maxine were housed on a nearby compound where veteran's families lived under the safety of government protection. During his time in the infirmary, Maxine was always there to visit, telling him tales about dreams she recovered as time went by. Roach was glad she was returning to normal and that no matter how her memories came back, her treatment towards him was the same.

"Good to see you back on your feet, my man." Rocket went up to him and did their fist bump, a series of elaborate claps then finished off with finger guns accompanied by their almost realistic attempt at pistol fires.

"Haha. Yeah? I'm glad I'm back." He waved as Rocket pointed at his back. Roach turned to see Maxine, carrying a packed lunch, waiting at the end of the hallway.

"Hey you. Just in time for lunch as always." He smiled, wrapping an arm around her as they made their way to the mess hall.

"Glad to see you smiling and walking about." She says, as her palms ran across his firm chest, tracing the scar that changed his life.

"Yeah, finally passed the damn physical test." He grinned as they sat down at their usual table, the only table which consisted of two tables stuck together to form an eight seater.

The rest of Roach's closest comrades were already there. Alex, guessing what Samantha packed for him. Soap and France arguing which meal choice was best for them and Ghost, who was already halfway through his lunch while the rest of his comrades haven't even started yet.

"Good to have you back, buddy." Ghost greeted with a wide grin on his face, well technically only half of his face was shown.

"Hey man. I sure am glad. How have you been doing?" he joked. They constantly visit him in their free time, so there was actually nothing to catch up on.

"The rest of the squad proceeded to badger Roach with questions about everything they wanted to know. Roach enjoyed the hot seat as the military mess hall felt like the university cafeteria.

"So, any news about Nero?" He finally asked as soon as everyone was done with him. The table felt awfully quiet.

"None." France was the first to speak up. Everyone else nodded and frowned.

"Shit. Guess our only choice is to wait." He added.

"Shepherd didn't have any leads towards Nero. Their last contact was the exchange of blueprints and after that, he was gone." Soap explained the situation.

"The missing persons?" Gary asked.

"Still missing." Alex commented.

"And there are still a few additions every other day as indicated by the FBI and DHS." Ghost added.

"Is interpol still involved?" Roach turned to Ghost.

"They're still after the traces of EMP equipment from the missing persons. Their new lead is that Nero's team is trying out a lethal kind of grenade. One that explodes without damaging property. If he's planning invasion, this is actually a good idea without ruining too much of the invaded country." He replied. Roach nodded at the theory. EMPs only damage mechanical equipment and this was a good call for the bad side.

"I never knew they'd think of this kind of weaponry. I always expected bioweapons being the last of modern warfare." Ghost muttered.

"Well, that was what happened in Verdansk and we stopped it. We could do that again." Alex tried to boost morale.

"Yeah. We'll do whatever it takes." Roach agreed and they continued lunch.

By the time he started training, Roach focused back on his Sniper techniques. His wound may have affected his previous breathing training and it was only inevitable that he'd train it again. He wanted to master the long ranged rifle as it was vital towards his development as a soldier.

"Back on the scope huh." Ghost huffed as they reached their 200 yard mark, by the hill just outside the base.

"Glad you could help me on this one." Roach unzipped the sniper bag and began scouting the area.

"You sure this is your spot?" Ghost asked, using his hand as a visor against the hot afternoon sun.

"Yeah. This fits."

"Suit yourself." He chuckled as Roach snapped every attachment of the rifle, from the bipod stand to the clicker adjustments.

He peeked at the scope and looked at his target. Five small cans standing on top of a log 200 yards away.

"Remember what I told you." Ghost mused as he looked at Roach steadying his breathing.

"Damn." He added as he noticed the change in wind.

"Yeah, damn. I just was about to fire it." Roach muttered as he took another deep breath and began to hold still as his crosshairs adjusted to the shift.

A loud fire echoed across the hills as dust scattered on the ground where Roach fired. He was about a few inches off.

"Great. Do that again but change your adjustments." Ghost said as consolation.

"Yeah got it." He rolled his dial once again and accounted for the wind, easing his breath and fired again. The loud sound once again echoed through the hills, followed by a soft metal can flying away from the log.

"There you go! A clean hit." Ghost congratulated as he tapped Roach's back while he reloaded his sniper and aimed again.

Roach stayed at that spot until it was too dark to continue and Ghost accompanied him until such time. On their way back, Ghost opened up to something that has been bothering him ever since.

"Roach. Do you mind if I say something important?" He asked and it made Roach stop on his tracks.

"Yeah. What's up." Roach asked.

"I've already sent my formal letter, but I just wanted you to have a heads up on the matter." Formal letter. Roach's heart started to pound as his mind automatically thought of him quitting or leaving.

"Letter about?" he asked. His mouth almost felt dry. He didn't want him to leave. Not again.

"Transferring department. Alexandra offered me a spot on the Interpol. I told you this first because I knew that if you were on my shoes, you'd go too, right? Do whatever makes you happy?" he said, quoting Roach's famous words.

He isn't wrong about doing what makes him happy, but his decision didn't feel right either, or maybe because he just doesn't want Ghost to go.

"Well, you bet I'd go for that option too!" Roach said, trying to validate his decision despite not wanting it. It was sad to see him go, but for the first time in ages, Ghost actually acknowledged the term happy.

"I knew you'd understand." he smiled and continued their trail back to the base where Roach remained quiet until they reached the base just in time for dinner.

After dinner, Roach opted for a night jog around the base to clear his mind off of Ghost leaving. After the second lap, he soon noticed Alex catching up to him.

"Wonderful weather for an evening run, huh?" He asked all cheery as he's quite used to his heavier and more realistic leg.

"Yeah. It is. Good to see you're liking Samantha's surprise." Gary nodded and removed his earphones.

"You know, it's really a surprise when I'm the only one who doesn't know about it." He commented.

"It feels like a real leg, actually. The wonders of modern technology never ceases to amaze me." He mused as they both took the turn.

"Yeah? That's good to hear. Pretty sure Samantha loved the way you thanked her." Roach teased as Alex chuckled, like he recalled some memory.

"Oh yeah, she did." Alex nodded suggestively, the kind that Roach didn't want to ask anymore.

"This your last lap?" Roach asked as Alex slowed down for his cooldown, turning to the set of exercise bars.

"Yep. See ya!" He waved as he started his cooldown.

Gary took three more laps just to make sure he's exhausted for the night, so that once he got in his bed, no more thoughts would assault his mind, hindering him from sleep.

There was only one way out of it. And it was accepting Ghost's inevitable departure from the 141.

The next morning, the 141 was briefed on a possible lead on Nero. This time, Ghost wasn't in the room and that meant that his letter was now approved.

"Okay lads. We've received word on a supply drop activity from Nero. We intercepted an unencrypted call signal to an abandoned port just off the coast of Sierra Leone, Africa. If intel is correct, we're going to be dealing with someone who goes by 'Volt', Nero's bomb maker." Price paced in front of the huge screen showing details regarding their mission.

"Volt is a high value individual who must not be killed. He's our only hope towards Nero. The intercepted call came from the USA, and it's quite impossible that Nero is here, so he must've used a secure line. Jack will be staying in the base as our new Operations Command as suggested by Laswell. Overlord will continue his role as our commanding officer as well." Price added making clear about the jurisdiction.

"Damp and dry Africa." Soap muttered.

"Have you been there?" France asked.

"Only in Egypt. My mom used to tag me along her trips." he replied.

"Recon suggests a high chance of militia activity, so our standard rules of engagement; treat anyone as hostile. Volt's compound will be surrounded by his own personal army and they're willing to shoot any unwanted visitors. He also has access to a port, so I'm sending the Charlie team to stand by the shore and make sure they're not planning an escape." he added.

"I'm leading the Alpha team and our task is to infiltrate his base and secure Volt for intel. Bravo team, led by Alex, will act as our support when things go south. As bonus, we need to destroy any trace of bomb making equipment.

Roach, I want you to man our new air support tools from above as soon as we confirm that there are no SAMs on his base." He shot his glare on Roach and he nodded. Guess he isn't on the ground tomorrow.

"We leave tomorrow at 0300. Make your necessary preparations especially on our brand new comms equipment. Ones that are immune to EMP blasts. Dismissed." He said as everyone got up and went on their way. Gary purposefully left himself behind so he could ask Price about the Ghost situation.

"Hey there lad. You feeling good?" Price approached as soon as he noticed Roach.

"I just have a question about the mission."

"Sure. What about it? Any suggestions?"

"No no. The plan is fine. Where will Ghost be?" Price gave him a worried stare.

"Ah. Didn't he tell you about his transfer?" He crossed his arms and stared at Roach.

"He did… but why did you allow it?"

"Well, it certainly looked like he was happy to go there. And I had no power over his commendations." Price reasoned as they walked out of the briefing room.

"Oh. I thought he was going to have one last mission with us." Roach smiled as he walked back to the room. Ghost wasn't a fan of goodbyes. Maybe because he knew they'll meet again.

0300H

Sierra Leone, Africa

"This is Hunter One-One requesting sitrep, over." Roach phoned his allies who were already on the ground for support. This mission was their vital lead towards Nero. He wished that the guy Volt was here so that they could finally finish the war before everyone else gets hurt.

Before he could man the air support, he needed to confirm that there were no SAMs present on their base so he could safely provide suppressing fire from above.

Next Chapter : The SIXth Ship

Notification Squad my Beloved

@whimsywispsblog @ricinbach @bumblingbee1 @smokeywhalee @samatedeansbroccoli @enderio

[mlqcconfessions]

Hi I absolutely love your headcanons. I have epilepsy and these can take many forms for me (full on seizures, absence seizures (looks like I've zoned out) and muscle spasms where I drop things and break them (I will cry cause I feel like my body is betraying me). I have anxiety and although I'm 4 years seizure free I always have a fear of 'what if today is the day' and having to remember to take my meds everyday. Can I have a HC of the boys taking care of MC with epilepsy and how they help her.

Although I’m not too familiar with the technical side of epilepsy, I did have a close high school friend who would occasionally get seizures during classes. I did a little research on my own time! Hope you enjoy it!

MLQC Headcanon - The closest one to you

Victor

You weren’t afraid to tell him about you having epilepsy (he didn’t want you to hide anything from him, anyways)

He wants you to describe everything to him (if you feel any pain, what medications you take, what he could do to help, etc)

He hires a professional to be your temporary carer

He didn’t like the fact that he wasn’t the one closest to you anymore

But with the way he is now, he won’t be that helpful to you

And he KNOWS that (that’s what makes it so frustrating)

He spends his free time between work to study up on epilepsy (and how to be a carer)

You’re worried that he’s dedicating so much of his precious time (and you know just how Victor feels about time)

“Have you forgotten who I am?” (he’s so cheeky sometimes)

He finishes clearing documents at a demonic speed (Goldman reiterates, I TOLD you he was an alien)

In the meantime, he does the simple tasks (ones that don’t require extensive knowledge)

He is ON YOU when you’re taking medications (Time is literally of the essence, MC)

He has a chart by his office desk with your details (so he knows what time, how many, how often you need to take the pills)

Because he can’t always be with you, he orders the professional carer to be by your side at all times (but makes him maintain a private distance that won’t make the CEO husband angry)

You haven’t had seizures for quite a while, but it’s always on the back of your mind

Victor knows that you’re worried about this (it makes him upset that there’s nothing he can do about it)

Although he can’t prevent future seizure from happening, he does his best to reassure you that he WILL be by your side to take care of you

“I don’t believe you, Victor” (this is your chance to make him BEG)

He doesn’t say anything for while, but picks up his phone to call someone

You can faintly hear the voice on the other side of the line

“Goldman, gather up all the employees in the building and have them meet at the main lobby” (....sorry sir, but can I ask just why...?)

“Victor, what are you—”

“Well, my wife here doesn’t believe me when I say I’m going to be by her side always” (....and....you want me to gather everyone because.....)

“Because if I actively proclaim my love to her in front of a crowd, she’ll trust my words” (he’s looking at you, smirking)

“Victor, you wouldn’t!”

“Try me”

The line hangs up (Goldman doesn’t get paid enough for this)

Kiro

He’s heard of it, but knows NOTHING about it (except a little about the seizures)

He’s scared when you talk about your past experiences

“And are you okay now?” (he has these puppy dog eyes)

“Well, I haven’t had these seizures for quite some time now” (omg you just want to hug him and kiss him all over)

Savin notices Kiro reading a lot more during schedules

Wait. Kiro. READING????? 

Yes.

Sunshine boy is trying so hard to understand what epilepsy is

So he bookmarked all these articles online to read on his spare time

But God help him, he doesn’t comprehend what these words mean

He figured it was easier to just talk to a professional about it

Later in the week, he wants you to come over to his house on his day off

When you go inside, his entire house has been fortified

No more sharp edges, no more hard floors, security alarms set in every room?

“Ta-dah!” (Kiro proudly shows off his new home)

“Kiro...what....what’s all this for?”

“I think your apartment is too dangerous for you to stay by yourself” (he ushers you to sit down)

“It would be fine if I can regularly go to your house, but Savin said that’s too risky” (and risky it WAS, with all the fans following his every move)

“So I decided the best option was to bring you to MY home!”

Although it’s a little sudden, you can tell that he’s genuinely worried for you

“Haha...thank you, Kiro” (you get up to hug him)

“You’re welcome, MC” (he squeezes you even tighter)

“You’re free to use this house as you please. You can even change the interior here!” (No, that’s okay Kiro)

“When I can’t stay here during work, I’ll send my stylists over to check up on you” (he smooths your hair down)

“But don’t get too along with them! I’m going to get jealous!” (he puffs his cheeks out what the heck, that’s adorable)

You reach out to kiss his nose

“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I can get this intimate with”

He immediately picks you up, and you’re dangling over his shoulders

“Well, I don’t think that’s intimate enough” (sunshine? More like sun-KISSED)

Lucien

If there’s anyone more familiar with how epilepsy works, it’s Dr. Lu Lu

He knows more than you?

He doesn’t think it’s necessary to hire a professional carer (he’s the best carer, wdym)

He’s prepared to the fullest 

You tell him that it’s been a while since your last seizure

“We can never be too sure, MC”

Although you haven’t moved into the same house yet, he frequently drops by your apartment (he doesn’t leave until the next day)

During lectures he always looks back at you (to make sure you’re doing fine)

AFTER lectures he makes sure your........physical form is in top condition (SFW if you know what I mean)

He worries that you’re overwhelmed with work sometimes

Offers to lessen your load by helping you edit videos

He’s actually good at making videos? (Youtuber in the making?)

You sometimes ask him to brew tea for you (it helps you relax)

He has a designated cup in his house just for you (when you’re not there, he places it in the display case)

You’re not actually interested in drinking tea

You just like how elegant he looks when he’s brewing

The soft smell of chamomile and lavender in his room is so calming

You fall asleep on his couch while he’s gathering some materials in another room

He’s slightly startled when he doesn’t hear your voice anymore (he quickly sets his papers down and crouches next to you)

Your cute snores make him laugh (he records it for future reference)

When you wake up, you’re back in your bed

“Lucien?”

He peers inside the door, pushes up his GLASSES, (yes I am a Glasses Lucien freak) and smiles at you

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t plan on dozing off like that”

“No worries, I was able to keep myself entertained”

“Oh? What were you looking at?” (you step out to the living room, finding a stack of albums on the table)

???

“You were adorable in this zebra onesie” (LUCIEN PLEASE)

Gavin

He’s dealt with plenty of rogue evolvers during his missions

Most of them had seizures while their evols were going out of control

How different could it be? (Birdcop has never been more wrong in his life)

He’s so taken back when you explain epilepsy to him

The way you describe it makes it sound so terrifying?

He listens inventively to the first aid procedures

He follows through pretty smoothly, actually (damn right, he’s Agent B-7)

You notice that he’s a LOT more attentive towards you

He was always like that before, but it’s to a greater extent now

If you’re quiet for a minute, he starts to panic

“It’s okay, Gavin! I’m okay” (you have to stop him from busting down the bathroom door)

He doesn’t like it when he has to leave you to go on missions (especially ones where he doesn’t know when he’ll get back)

He assigns Minor and/or Eli as your bodyguard (for all locations EXCEPT your apartment)

Anna is responsible for watching over you when you’re home

He calls/texts you so often (it’s like he never left)

His mind is elsewhere during work (but he never fails the missions, because he’s AGENT BIRDCOP-7)

Something you don’t know is that Eli and Minor are required to send photos of you once in a while (something about him being unable to trust their words)

WORST. PEOPLE. TO. ASSIGN. THIS. TO.

Eli takes photos with himself in it (and the focus is not even on you)

Minor always takes them while you’re moving (he only manages to capture your afterimage)

Anna to the rescue, honestly (that’s an entire photoshoot)

The first thing he does after returning is checking to make sure you’re okay (he hugs you after his checkup is done)

“........Gavin, what are these gashes on your arm?”

“....so......what do you want for dinner tonight?”

F

I don’t know why, but I always make Lucien’s headcanons somewhat nsfw

I can’t help it, he just does that to me