#this was sooooooooo fun and i kind of want to write more for this

[yayll]

Hi!! It’s my first time requesting something so I dont know how that works.. um I was thinking of some mission like some kind of ball that dazai and y/n has to go and y/n has to seduce someone to get information out of them. You know those masquerade balls? Yeah I think that really goood!! And dazai gets sooooooooo jealous and after she got the information dazai kiss her infront of that person to show him that she’s his😭😭😭😭😭😭omg

HIII angel sorry this took me a while, but i hope you like it :') i tweaked your idea a lil and fingers crossed this is what you so graciously asked for. i tried to put my best jealous goofy ass dazai in there along with the absolute MUSH his brain turns into when he has you to himself mixed with a lil........ fucked in the headness. i love requests! this was soooo fun to write i love youuuuuu <3

~ a little something about Dazai and his uncharacteristic jealousy ~

"Osamu, come on... You're my only sweetheart, you know that."

You call out half sweetly and half out of breath as you follow him down the hallway of the lavish event you were currently attending, dressed to the nines and trying to remain undercover. You were coming to realize why people didn't date within the workplace as he walked ahead, grumbling to himself. He's trying to remain unfazed, pretending to still be upset as he shrugs with his back turned to you.

"Hmph. I dunno, I don't feel like I'm your 'sweet' anything..."

This causes you to roll your eyes affectionately and pick up the pace, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder to finally stop him in his tracks. You flash him a sincere smile, and speak softly.

"I'm really sorry you had to see that. I didn't know that asshole was going to kiss me after he let me go. I also didn't think you'd ever get jealous..."

You say that last part with a more playful tone, treading dangerous waters of your unpredictable lover's emotions. As expected, he sighs dramatically, casting you a look of disgust.

"Ugh, of course I'm not... That's honestly sooo lame and pathetic. I can entertain jealousy as much as I can entertain one of Kunikida's little speeches on morals, or whatever."

"You mean his 'ideals'?"

You chide, stifling a laugh. He glares at you, his eyes narrowing as he scans you for a moment.

He can't find a single flaw on that precious face, not a single stray hair or stain on your exquisite outfit. He should change that by the end of the night.

"... You're always so negative, correcting me and whatnot. Isn't it tiring being so irritatingly superior in every way?"

This one gets a laugh out of you, You can tell he's slowly lightening up his mood by the way you both begin walking side by side once again.

"Yeah well, if it weren't for that little kiss earlier, we'd both still be all tied up in the wine cellar of this wonderful party."

He flashes you a pout, and shrugs dismissively.

"And here I thought you of all people would like the idea of being tied up with me. Hmph, wrong partner, I suppose."

Now he was starting to pick back at you, though it was cute. Jealousy looked cute on him, it was something you didn't think he was capable of. It was a pity it had to be during a mission where your main asset was your seduction skills and his was mental instability. You hated every second of it, but you also wanted to make sure you both made it out with the secret intel alive.

You make your way into the grand ballroom, the gala is in full swing, and your eyes dart around to find a proper escape route. Just as you see an exit, a handsome and well dressed young man blocks your view, sticking his hand out.

"Hi. You're gorgeous. Care for a dance?"

You stare down at his hand and then back up at the stranger, your face flushing as you're caught off guard.

"Me? No, no I-"

Dazai immediately interjects, sloppily holding a glass of champagne that somehow manifested in his hand and pretends to be drunk. He loved his theatrics, especially when he was desperate.

He bumps harshly into the young man's shoulder, the alcohol sloshing out of the cup as he slurs, but not before he flashes you a wink to tell you to play along.

"Sooo sorry, pardon me. This indeed beautiful angel is quite busy you see... Taking care of me that is. Ooh, I'm a wreck! I'm nothing but a sad and lonely dog.. In this sad and lonely world-"

The man looks at Dazai skeptically, and huffs into a chuckle. He shoves him away, and turns his attention back to you. Your eyes dart nervously between the two, wondering what Dazai will do next.

"Shut it, clown.. Anyway, I think this further proves you should be in the company of a gentleman like me tonight rather than this wet mop-"

The sound of a champagne flute soaring through the air and connecting to the man's skull is suddenly heard, interrupting him and sending him falling to the ground along with broken glass and liquid everywhere. In one swift motion, Dazai is at your side with a premature victorious smirk, but before you can both be on your way, the man regains his posture and spins him around, punching him square in the face. Dazai's not scrawny or weak, but he isn't the most skilled fighter, relying mostly on his special ability and intelligence to get him out of things.

You gasp, instinctively grabbing Dazai by the collar of his suit and dragging him away to get lost in the crowd of concerned people. You finally make it outside and you both collapse onto the soft grass just outside the venue. It's decorated with all kinds of flowers and fragrant rose bushes, it almost looks like you're at the garden of Versailles. You look over at Dazai, his nose bleeding all over the place, but he looks completely unbothered by it. As you reach over to touch the bridge of his nose, he grabs your wrist and holds it away gently. He waves a finger at you.

"No touchy, I've got it."

He does not, in fact, got it. He looks around until he plucks a rose petal and uses it to wipe his nostrils. You frown, getting all up in his space within an instant.

"What on earth are you doing, Osamu? Let me help, you goofball. Your nose is a mess thanks to that stunt you pulled."

You tear off a bit of fabric from your outfit and dab his skin tenderly, holding his head on your lap now. You can see some blood has trailed down his neck, staining the bandages there along with the collar of his crisp white dress shirt you picked out for him this morning. Dazai perks up, his voice slightly strained but full of lightheartedness.

"How does it feel to work with the agency's most tactical and covert operative? Eh?~"

You bite back a smile, and shake your head. You murmur.

"Feels like he's asking for a death wish a little more than usual."

Your lips soon become a thin line, realizing your statement hurts a little more in the context of the situation than it usually would. He notices your mood shift as his eyes flicker from your concerned eyes down to your lips and back up again. He knows it hurts you when he's like this, reckless and acting out on the impulses of his own plans. He wants to sit up and close the gap between you, kiss you until you drop down those brave walls you're putting up for the sake of the mission. For the sake of your feelings for him. He knows he's careless with it all.

He hums, eyes trained on you as if burning the image of your heavenly self into his mind, where you always deserve to be. In the distance, a bulky sketchy looking man runs out of the venue frantically, looking around wildly and you both get the impression it's the guy from the cellar earlier who kissed you in exchange for your freedom.

Shit! You could have sworn you knocked him out cold. Dazai sits up from your lap and you two scoot more into the bush, trying to hide from him as he makes a call. You mutter under your breath, turning to Dazai as you begin to type something out on your communicator.

"Now's the perfect time to let the others know we're ready for extraction."

He's already looking at you, or gazing admiringly more like. He knows he can fuck up everything, pay any consequence, but the thing he needs to get right for the selfishness of his wretched little heart is you. He scoots a bit closer, hearing the sounds of both your shallow breaths harmonizing. He mutters, softly.

"It would also be the perfect time for you to kiss my face better. You know, for my wellness and all that. Besides, that guy wasn't very nice to us earlier and we need to get rid of any traces of him from those lips. Yuck."

You roll your eyes yet again, despite the fluttering that won't let your stomach rest.

"Who cares about that, we have a case to close first."

He smirks, voice dropping low and provocative.

"I care."

He leans in even further, practically caging you with both arms on either side of you. He can feel your breathing become more erratic, his own filled with a pathetic sense of need he always has when he's with you. Dazai's hand reaches out and grabs your chin, turning it up slightly to face him, making sure you drop this silly act once and for all. His voice comes out gentle, firm.

"I need you to physically push me away, or I swear I'm going to kiss you right now, cutie."

Your eyes widen as you let a shaky breath escape your plush lips, murmuring in return.

"I'll.. punch you in the nose again, you know..."

His hand moves from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek as he takes another breath, his body aching to be as close to yours as possible. His eyes are fixed on you, tearing you apart right then and there, but not before putting you back together so nicely. In that moment, he knows you don't mean that, and he knows he can't resist anymore.

He then whispers with a finality, the anticipation torturing him like you do on a daily basis.

"I don't think I'm going to listen to that..."

You break into a faint smile as you perceive him back.

"You've still got a little blood on your-"

Without another word, Dazai closes the remaining distance between you and him, kissing you with fervor as his soft whines reverberate against your lips. You taste sweetness and then... metallic as your lips mesh together for a heavenly moment. He feels alive, this was what he needed, the soothing balm for his soul and any other wound only you could provide. He's like a vampire, a parasite leeching off of your very essence so he could be himself around you. Cowardly burrowing into the safety of your heart. You squirm just a tad, your fingers carding through his brown hair as you try to keep up. He pulls back after his nose can't push more air through and keeps his lips hovering over yours, feeling the heat from your mouth mingle with his as he sees your lips stained red with his blood. Just as he's going to comment on how disgustingly erotic it is to see you like that, he pushes away the indecent thoughts, using the bandage on his wrist to wipe your mouth instead.

"Okay, I'll be good for now. You can call for extraction.~"

It was a dumb thing to do and could be seen as him being territorial or jealous, but the reality of it was that it was the natural order of things when it came to the way he processed his affections. Someone gets in between the two of you in any way?

An uglier and more dangerous past version of himself would have called for an immediate execution, there was a reason he held the titles that he did. He did his very best to keep that mentality at bay, rebuking it every time he felt a dark urge that he felt needed to be dealt with, mostly for your sake and for the sake of the promise he made to a friend once. Though he can't lie and say that's not who he is anymore, he can always find a better way to get his point across... even if a wishful bullet to the head comes out in the form of a kiss on your precious lips. He'll try for you. He'll wear the fastidious label proudly and be Dazai, a jealous man.

[21stcenturygworl]

A Blank Dance Card

Arthur Morgan x (female) Reader, Regency AU 💕

For the Valentine Gift Exchange by @rdrevents! Written for @starlight-starwrites. Thank you for the great prompts, Star! I hope I did them justice.

This is so extremely campy, but I had great fun writing it. I hope y'all have great fun reading it too!

.✧.

One of the joys of being a debutante on the marriage market is finally, finally being able to indulge in the gossip firsthand. Previous seasons, you had to wring every last drop of information out of your friends, who one by one were swooped off their feet by gentlemen looking to win their hearts. Now, you can huddle together with the other girls, whispering and giggling amongst yourselves as you steal glances at the eligible bachelors at Lady Coulston's ball.

You’re quite some years older than most debutantes of this season. It was your mother’s decision, mostly (your father had just told her, “Yes, dear. As you wish, dear. Anything you want, dear.”). She didn’t want you to be married off too young, instead wanting you to become a well-rounded young lady first through travel and further education. You had protested initially, terrified of ending up a spinster, but your mother had promised that she wouldn’t make you wait that long.

You still feel like a spinster between all the younger girls, though.

The ball hosted by Lady Coulston is a grand affair, with the walls adorned with intricate tapestries and richly painted scenes. The floors are marble (Italian marble, she had pointed out to your mother), polished to a glossy sheen, and the ceiling is painted with beautiful frescoes. Walking across the marble floor already has your heels click with a satisfying sound, and you can only imagine what it would be like to walk through this ballroom by yourself.

Chandeliers hang from the ceiling, adding a touch of opulence to the room. Music fills the air, with the strains of a string quartet and a harpsichord playing romantic melodies. Many guests have taken to the dance floor. They twirl across the marble to the melody of the music, the dancers becoming a blur of colours, beautiful fabrics catching the light of the chandeliers above.

Unlike them, however, you have nobody to dance with.

Not a single eligible bachelor has approached you all night. Occasionally one would approach your little group of debutantes, but always to ask one of the other girls to dance, or to make a turn around the room together.

The paper of your dance card is a plain, stark white. Blank.

It’s mortifying, almost. But at least Lady Coulston’s pastry chefs make your attendance worth it. You take solace in the delectable cannolis that nobody else seems to have noticed. Lady Coulston must really like Italy.

.✧.

Arthur doesn’t want to be here.

He hadn’t even wanted to travel across the pond in the first place, and neither did John. But Dutch had insisted that for the adoption process to be finalised, they had to come with him to London. “We’ll head back immediately after,” his now-father promised them.

Apparently in England, “immediately after” means a month or two later.

So here he is, standing in Lady Coulston's ballroom, trying to blend in with the crowd. Arthur had heard stories about the balls, and he’s received countless instructions for how to behave, but he still feels terribly out of place. The grandeur of the room is intimidating and almost suffocating to a young man like Arthur, who spent years sleeping under the stars on windswept prairies.

It’s almost inconceivable to watch Dutch, the same man who had once told Arthur that he was done with the upper class, working his charm on the guests at the ball. It's almost unfathomable that this is the same man who had spent so much of his time in America swindling the wealthy, and yet here he is, a Baron of all things. Arthur is silently hoping that Dutch will turn and give him a sly wink and tell him “It was all just a scheme!”, but it never happens.

Dutch had deemed John too young to attend a ball, meaning Arthur is now stuck by Dutch’s side as he speaks to a Lord and Lady Gardner, who are both hanging onto every word he says as he tells them about his exploits in the American West.

“I will say, I was tempted to stay there,” Dutch says, gesturing vaguely as he speaks. “It’s a very different land from here. A land full of opportunities. The people here in England do not have the spine to take risks the way those in America do.” He pauses, as if reminiscing. “And all the unspoiled nature… By God, Lord and Lady Gardner, it was unlike anything I have ever seen before. Beyond beautiful.”

“My, I can hardly imagine it!” Lady Gardner says, wearing a giddy smile. “It all seems so far away. Perhaps we should visit too someday, dear? It would be so nice to travel a little again, just like we used to when we were younger…”

“Perhaps,” Lord Gardner says, smiling a little uncomfortably. “But perhaps we should first make sure our daughter is married before we do.”

Lady Gardner puts a reassuring hand on her husband’s arm. “Of course, dear.” Turning to Dutch and Arthur, she asks, “Have you met our daughter yet? It’s her first season on the marriage market this year. Very exciting.”

Dutch smiles, corners of his eyes crinkling. “Very exciting indeed. I do not believe we’ve had the pleasure of making her acquaintance yet.”

“Let me see, where is she…” Lady Gardner peers across the ballroom, then lets out a little “Oh!” before she begins calling to her daughter.

.✧.

You whip around from where you stand next to one of the many refreshments tables, halfway stuffing a cannoli in your mouth.

“Dearest!” your mother calls out to you, waving you over with an excited smile. Oh, this is mortifying. You try to swallow the cannoli quickly before other people notice, but it’s already too late. At least you didn’t get any crumbs or cream on your dress this time.

Quickly you compose yourself before striding over to the little gathering, weaving through the crowd. When you reach them, you realise that the men your parents are speaking to are the Baron of Whitchurch, and one of his recently-adopted sons.

Now here is where the gossip comes into play. You had heard many a scandalous story of how Lord Van der Linde (whose family weren’t even English aristocrats to begin with!) had run off to America for nearly a decade. When he finally returned, he brought back two orphans with him who he had adopted and made the heirs to his titles and estates. The legality of it was dubious at best, and immediately a new scandal was born. The future Baron of Whitchurch would be a man with not a single drop of aristocratic blood.

Nobody had told you that the future Baron of Whitchurch was also incredibly handsome.

Your mother is your saving grace, because only when she speaks to introduce you, do you realise that you’ve been staring. You quickly avert your gaze and curtsy with your head inclined. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.” Straightening out, you remember your manners and ask, “Are you enjoying tonight’s festivities?”

“We certainly are, thank you kindly for asking,” Lord Van der Linde says. “This is my son, Arthur.”

Arthur. You like that name. It suits him perfectly, highlighting the impressive stature of his broad shoulders and tall frame. Yet, despite the impressive physicality, there is something gentle about him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. After a moment's thought, you realise it’s his eyes; the way they seem to reflect an inner kindness, a beautiful shade of blue.

“This is the first time Arthur is attending a ball,” your mother tells you with a low voice, as if it’s a secret. (It’s really not.) “Why don’t you take him for a turn around the room? I’m sure there’s lots you two can talk about.”

You and Arthur unintentionally share a look, and you seem to reach the same conclusion as him: We have nothing to talk about.

You muster up an almost-convincing smile as you take a step forward. "Shall we take a turn around the room, Mr Van der Linde?" you ask, feeling a bit strange at the formal words coming out of your mouth. Arthur nods, then seems to remember himself and offers you his arm.

.✧.

The two of you walk in silence for a few moments, strolling along the perimeter of the impossibly large ballroom, until Arthur finally speaks. "Erm… Apologies for my lack of conversation skills, Miss Gardner," he says, his voice a bit awkward. He’s suddenly terribly aware of how different his accent is from yours, and the realisation only serves to make him speak quieter. "I… I ain’t used to being at a ball like this, and I'm not sure what to say."

You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him through your lashes. Arthur feels his chest tighten. “It’s alright,” you say, your gloved hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I can only imagine how strange all of this must be for you, Mr Van der Linde.”

A nervous chuckle escapes him. “Strange is an understatement.” He pauses, considering his words, and then carefully says, “I… I prefer Mr Morgan, actually. Dutch— I mean, Lord Van der Linde only really became a father figure to me when I was already a young man.”

You nod, seeming to understand his reluctance. Or at least pretend to. "I'm sure that's true for many adopted children," you say, voice gentle and sympathetic. You smile at him in an attempt to offer some levity. "How are you enjoying your time in England so far? It must be very different from what you’re used to. Especially the weather, I would guess.”

Arthur returns the smile as his nerves slip away. You’re trying your best to be warm and welcoming to him. Though it is at the behest of your mother, it’s still more than he can say about the other people at the ball — who have mostly stared at him while whispering amongst themselves. "It is," he says, "The weather too, I s’pose. But mostly the people, and the, uh… way of life.” He looks around the room, taking in the elegant décor and the finely-dressed people. "It's all certainly an experience. I ain’t ever seen anythin’ like this before. I wasn’t… raised in high society."

“Well,” you begin as you mull over his words for a moment. You then flash him a wide smile. “You’re going to have lots to learn and catch up on before you become the Baron of Whitchurch.”

Arthur feels his heart skip a beat, and he swallows thickly. “I’m afraid so,” he says.

“I’m sure you’re up for the task, Mr Morgan. I believe in you.”

Despite the rather disappointing start of the evening, Arthur now suddenly doesn't want it to end anymore. He finds himself liking the way you hold onto his arm, speaking with him and making him feel like he's the most important person in the world right now. You're so, so beautiful, too. Half of your hair is pinned up, the loose sections cascading down your back like a waterfall of silk. The bodice of your dress fits snugly around your chest, the skirts flowing gracefully with every step you take. You feel like someone so far out of reach for him, yet you’re right here next to him.

He blinks when he realises he’s been staring at you. He’s grateful when he sees that you’ve been looking elsewhere — but your expression is wistful. You’re watching the people on the dance floor twirl about and laugh giddily amongst themselves.

“I hope I’m not takin’ up too much of your time, Miss Gardner,” Arthur says, and you look back at him. “I’m sure there’s another gentleman waitin’ for your attention.”

You shake your head, a sad smile gracing your features. “I’m afraid not, Mr Morgan. Nobody’s asked me to dance, tonight.” You show your dance card with your free hand, and Arthur sees that it’s empty. “I fear I may not be as tempting as the younger ladies,” you say with a hollow chuckle. “But it’s alright. I’m enjoying myself here with you.”

Arthur's heart twinges at your words and he finds himself wanting to say something comforting, but he's not sure what. All these fools wouldn’t want to ask a beauty like you to dance with them? Anger bubbles in his chest, but he quickly pushes it down. It’s a completely stupid and hopeless task, but he knows what he has to do. Mustering up every ounce of courage in his body, he clears his throat and then asks, “Miss Gardner, would you do me the honour of dancin’ with me?”

You look up at him, almost as if you can't believe your ears. Your eyes light up and you smile, a brilliant and genuine smile that makes Arthur's heart flutter. "It would be my pleasure, Mr Morgan," you say, before curtsying gracefully.

He takes your hand in his and leads you to the dance floor as the music changes, and the musicians begin to play a waltz. Arthur holds you — as he learned during his lessons — and though his steps are a little awkward and stiff, you’re most certainly dancing together. As you start twirling around the room, Arthur finds himself mesmerised by you. He had thought you beautiful before, but now, as he watches you spin around and laugh with him, he's certain that you are the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

How tempted he is to lean forward and kiss you.

It’s not the right way to do things, though. Not here, not now. Not with a woman of your standing. So he spends the rest of the night with you. Dancing, talking, and even laughing together. And when the evening draws to a close, and your parents have called you to tell you that it’s time to take the carriage home, Arthur takes your hand and presses a kiss to your gloved fingers.

“Miss Gardner, before you go,” he begins. He straightens out, still holding your hand. “May I… may I call on you tomorrow afternoon?” he asks, stumbling over his words a little.

You look at him adoringly, cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink as you smile and nod. “Yes. Yes, you may.” You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giddy smile. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Mr Morgan. Good night.”

[screamforyani]

hello!! i wanted to say that i really love your writing!!

and i also wanted to share one of my thought about gf!ethan making you play the nastiest game ever, him threatening that if you don’t do what he wants (in a sexual way) he’ll kill one of your friend!

have a nice day!!🤍

ultimatum

warnings: noncon to dubcon, ghostface phonecall kinda, no original thoughts because i completely ripped this off from scream 5

wc. 1.6k

you hated being alone on friday nights, because you were always bored. 

usually, tara would have dragged you out to some party with her that sam could never know she went to, but she was busy with her boytoy tonight.

boring. or maybe it was because you were slightly jealous. at least one of us are getting some action tonight, you thought.

you grabbed your phone, deciding to text tara anyways. not that you thought she would respond. when chad was in the room with her, your best friend had a one-track mind.

you: i’m sooooooooo bored 

you: tell chadwick you have a very angry best friend who owns a plastic machete and a very heavy ceiling fan

you: i will unscrew the ceiling fan.

just as you put your phone down to get up and grab some yogurt, you heard it start to vibrate on your coffee table. you furrowed your brows. that was quick. chad must have been in the bathroom or something. 

you picked it up, answering lightheartedly, “tara, you monster. i can’t believe you left me all alone.”

“it’s not tara.”

you arched a brow. that voice was a hell of a lot deeper, definitely not your best friend’s snarky tone. “chad?”

the person on the other line chuckled. “wrong again. come on, try one more time.”

that was when the familiarity of the voice dawned on you. you’d seen a couple of stab movies before and those cliches were coming back to you. your heart raced a little faster, wondering if this was some prank, but chad and tara wouldn’t do that. “you’re the killer.”

“see, i knew you could do it,” said the killer on the phone, almost sounding excited. 

you were rooted in place, hissing, “what did you do with tara and chad?”

“oh, nothing. they’re fine. for now,” he said ominously, unnerving you completely. “but they won’t be if you don’t do what i want.”

“what do you want?” you asked, bringing the phone from your ear to put the call on speaker so that you could text sam. 

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you,” he warned.

you paused, glancing around. “you can fucking see me right now?”

“of course i can. those cameras in your living room aren’t doing you justice right now. i’m sure you look even better in person. whose t-shirt are you wearing? it’s a few sizes too big on you.”

your heart started to race and you glanced around, looking for a weapon. you weren’t safe. and neither were your friends. 

“what are you going to use, huh? that plastic machete? or are you going to unscrew the ceiling fan?” the killer teased. 

you snarled, “fuck you.”

ghostface said nothing while you walked out of the living room, but before your fingers could even brush the kitchen knife, your phone buzzed in your hand. it was a video outside of tara’s bedroom window, of her laying on chad’s chest. you gulped. 

“don’t they look so cute together?” ghostface asked with a chuckle, speaking again. “you have two options. it’s a simple choice, really. either do what i say or i’ll cut their fun short.”

you backed away from the knives, taking a huge breath while you re-entered the living room. this fucking asshole. you were at his mercy.

“smart choice!” he exclaimed. 

you grumbled, “what do you want me to do?”

“take off that shirt.”

you paralyzed at his request, not wanting to commit to it in the slightest. for fuck’s sake, this guy wanted you to give him a fucking strip tease? you weren’t an expert on these kinds of things, but you figured he had to be somebody that you knew. he could have just asked.

ghostface yawned, as if to say he was getting bored. “tick tock. i have a short attention span, you know. the thought of slicing open your friends is starting to get really enticing right now.”

you huffed in annoyance, throwing the goddamn shirt above your head. it was ethan’s. your friends spent a lot of time your place because you were the only one that lived alone. you snapped, “are you happy?”

“not yet,” he said darkly. “you see that stuffed animal by your television? pick it up. i want you to ride it.”

“you can’t be serious,” you grumbled to yourself, and when he didn’t say anything, you figured he hadn’t heard you. you grabbed the fucking stuffed animal you’d gotten for your birthday and mounted the toy, feeling a little awkward doing this while aware that you were being watched.

you eased into your movements, starting off slow, partially because it was a little humiliating. you weren’t wearing much under the shirt, only your panties. in fact, you weren’t even wearing a bra.

“fuck,” came the voice on the phone. “just like that.”

what made the situation even more mortifying was that you didn’t hate how it felt, grinding against the faux fur of the poor large teddy bear. you could feel your arousal starting to damp your underwear, sticking to your skin. you wanted to be disgusted with yourself.

“tell me how it feels.”

“feels… feels good,” you replied through ragged breaths, against your better judgment.

“yeah?” he hummed. 

“mm-hm,” you whispered, forgetting that you were supposed to be scared. 

all of the heat washed over you, fogging your brain as your hips found a rhythm. you were blindsided by pleasure, grinding your sticky cunt against the toy. you threw your head back in a moan, grabbing onto the toy while you increased your pace. 

it was shameful what you were doing, entertaining some freak behind a mask. but it wasn’t like you had any other choice. he was going to hurt my friends, was what you’d reminded yourself when the smoke cleared and your thoughts became rational again.

“stop,” he commanded, much to your chagrin. 

“no,” you whimpered. “please.”

ghostface laughed mockingly, but only for a second, before repeating a little harsher this time, “stop.”

you halted your actions, hating the aching throbbing between your legs. it was driving you crazy. you felt so soaked, so wet.

“good girl,” he whispered. “bend yourself over the arm of the couch.”

you were too aroused to make some snappy comment, doing as told. you were guessing he wanted a nice view to get off to. the imagination could only do so much.

that was when you heard a sound, but you didn’t have much time to react when he came out of nowhere and pressed himself behind you, bringing his hand to your mouth to muffle your scream. you felt him tug at your underwear and reached behind your back to stop him, which ultimately ended with your arms folded behind your back and your panties slipped to the side as he forced his big, hard cock into your wet cunt.

“so absorbed in pleasure you didn’t even hear me come in,” he said, but you quickly noticed that he spoke without the modulator. and you didn’t have to turn your head to know who it was. 

you blurted, “ethan?”

“yeah, baby,” he moaned, slapping his hips against yours. “that’s what i want you to say when you cum all over my cock. shit, baby, you’re so wet.”

you shuddered when you felt his fingers coat themselves in your arousal, and you didn’t even realize that he brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. it drove him mad with lust, to an extent he didn’t even know he was capable.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to be upset right now at your friend’s actions, too tangled in ecstasy and the way it felt as his cock slipped in and out of you with a wet sound, fucking you stupid. to say nothing of how touch-starved you were.

“ethan,” you stammered out again. “harder.”

“you want me to fuck you harder?” ethan asked, chucking in amazement. you were everything he could’ve dreamed of, and beyond. 

you bobbed your head. “please, i need it.”

“well, if you need it,” he teased, a lilt to his tone. 

it knocked the wind out of you when he slapped his hips into you harder, made you feel dizzy with how perfectly he felt inside you, stuffing you full. it was a lot, but you knew that you could take it.

this moment was straight out of a fantasy. you were bent over, crying out ethan’s name and begging him for more, like you just couldn’t get enough of him. to be frank, he couldn’t get enough of you either. you scratched something in his brain, made him go crazy. not to mention how you were pulsing around his dick, so tight and way better than his hands.

“nobody else can have you like this,” ethan groaned, fisting your hair into a ponytail behind you. “right?”

“nobody,” you stuttered, barely able to speak. you were on the brink of climax. 

“fuck,” ethan moaned. “cum for me, baby. you know you want to.”

that was basically all it took to finish you, the petname rolling off of his tongue so deliciously. just as you were instructed, you moaned ethan’s name when you came, feeling wrecked as pure hell. 

ethan came too, pulling out and cumming on your back much to your surprise. he slid off you after a moment or two, leaving you to drop onto the couch, exhausted. 

just moments later, your phone buzzed, and you grabbed it under ethan’s watchful gaze. it was a text from chad. 

chad: hey it’s tara

chad: i stole chad’s phone lol he’s in the shower

chad: so something kinda crazy happened… i like totally lost my phone. but i wanted to check up on you and make sure you didn’t die lol

you glanced back at ethan, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d been here, and watching his lips curl into a twisted grin. it was a wordless exchange.

[sciderman]

SCI ILL GIVE YOU TWO NICKELS IF YOU TELL ME WHERE THE GOOD SPIDEYPOOL INTERACTIONS ARE IN THE COMICS. I want to read them but i have no idea where to begin!!

GOD! you know they're so rare. they're so rare.

my personal favourite always always is avenging spider-man #12 + #13. the only spideypool comic ever. it's probably the benchmark for how i write their dynamic.

other than that, the spideypool annual is a classic. but peter's like, unconscious through most of it. technically he's unconscious through most of avenging spider-man #12 too. i don't know why peter's usually unconscious in the spideypool books.

deadpool annual #2! the notorious spideypool annual.

wade you are so cute. sooooooooo cute.

this is one of the cutest wades ever. huge contributing factor to wade's general adorable fanboy persona you see so frequently in fanon.

they're so cute. so cute.

this is like the ultimate little fanservice book. if you didn't ship spideypool before, you'll read this book and it'll be all you think about. it's so simple, wholesome, adorable. and wade's just, so good.

god i miss stand-alone issues with simple plotlines that just have silly fun with their concept.

one underrated spideypool interaction i really like but a lot of people haven't read! identity wars (2011) - it's kind of an insane book. spider-man, deadpool and the hulk (weird trio) all wind up in an alternate universe where, get this. uncle ben never died and spider-man is evil.

but not like sexy evil. like evil evil. like collecting other spider-man and draining their powers evil.

and wade is also evil. he's like, dr doom evil.

spider-man and deadpool don't interact a whole lot, they kind of all have their own stories going on, but i just love the little interactions that they do have.

they're so cute. so cute.

other than that, uh. cable and deadpool #24? that's required reading - spider-man and deadpool's first canonical meeting.

other team-ups that exist but, you know, they're just okay. or they're very brief. deadpool (2008) #19-#21 amazing spider-man #611 (hate you, joe kelly) spider-man/deadpool (2016) (STILL hate you, joe kelly) avengers vs x-men: axis #7

deadpool (2013) #7

oh OH. there's also absolute carnage vs deadpool. god. what a weird book. i kind of hate wade's characterisation in it (he is really, really insufferable), but the jokes are funny sometimes.

i love when spider-man calls deadpool "buddy". inexplicably. i just think it's funny.

also we get peter in a cute little pink apron so. what more do you need really.

i love u pink apron peter. i love you.

[yeowangies]

mutual understanding

Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV | CHAPTER V: Shiny green sprouts

PAIRING: Kenpachi/AFAB!Reader CONTENTS: AU - Fantasy, Medieval, Royalty, Arranged Marriage, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Pining, Explicit Sexual Content, Virginity Loss. WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: Explicit sexual content, lots of dialogue, minor yumichika/ikkaku. WORDCOUNT: 3518

Summary:

Kenpachi realized a few things as your relationship bloomed.

Notes:

Oh i'm sooooooooo happy with this chapter! It was fun to write, and I didn't think i'd enjoy it so much to explore ken's pov. I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i did writing it 😭

This is the last chapter and i'm happy to finish this wonderful story! I love these two so much that i wanna add more chapters with a little more plot as well, but since i'm not sure if or when will that be, the story shall end here for now. Thank you for reading 💖

header by me, divider by @/saradika

taglist: @actuallysaiyan @lol-ktr @vrgelivvvv @pennameyoruichiii @hikariandptakchleb @thebestgirlever2 @tequila-coffee-things

Kenpachi had pictured you in his fantasies several times. Different activities, different places, different circumstances; but you were always there, tempting him. He didn’t think he’d ever get to experience any of them, but after that first night you two had sex, he’d let himself hope for more.

He didn’t think you’d have so much initiative, however. He couldn’t help but grin as you bounced on his lap one night, bracing your hands on his chest as you pleasured yourself on his cock. 

The alcohol was probably a factor in what you were currently doing, but Kenpachi knew you weren’t drunk. A little tipsy and on the happier side maybe, but you had gotten to the bedroom without his help; moreover, you had wrapped your arm around his, clinging for a minute before you started tugging at his hand to make him hurry up,and he let lead, dragging him down the hall. 

For someone so small, you had a lot of conviction, and it only took a second to make him remove his clothes when you got to the bedroom. He didn’t put up a fight, obviously; he was intrigued and incredibly turned on to see you so eager to fuck him, kissing him as if your life depended on it. The way he had kissed you since that first time. 

The sight was amazing, your breasts bouncing every time you moved up and down, moaning with your head thrown back in ecstasy. Kenpachi didn’t want to close his eyes, engraving your every curve in his memory. Just in case he had to be apart from you in the future, this was what he wanted to remember: you, completely bare, covered in beads of sweat, as you shamelessly impaled yourself on his dick. 

His hips bucked upwards, seeking more of your wet heat, and you hummed every time the head of his cock hit inside you just right. He was hoping you’d pick up the pace, and he encouraged you to hurry up with a firm grip on your hips to guide you, but you only seemed to care about your own pleasure at that moment, making him groan like a wounded animal. 

“It feels so good…” You purred, looking down at him with hooded eyes. 

You bit your lip as you slid one hand up his cheek, stroking softly. 

Kenpachi wasn’t used to those kinds of gestures, not even during sex, but he wasn’t going to say no to it. Every time you touched him his skin burned, and he’d gladly set himself on fire for you. Chasing your touch, he turned his head towards your hand, licking your finger before you put your thumb in his mouth. He eagerly sucked on it with a salacious smirk plastered on his face at the same time. Grunting when your walls around him clenched, he figured you probably really liked what he was doing. 

Holding your hips tightly, he thrust up, hitting deep inside you again as you let out a loud whimper. He picked up a rhythm to his own liking, watching with amusement as you stuttered to get coherent words out of your mouth as he slid his cock in and out of you. 

“Wait, Ken- Please, give me a sec-” You pleaded, dragging your nails down his chest. 

Kenpachi groaned in response, even more turned on than before. It was like you were made for him. 

You were still finding yourself when it came to sex, sometimes even explicitly asking him for certain things, and he was more than eager to please you every time. But moments like that night were spontaneous, and you carried yourself with that self assurance that he had enjoyed greatly since the first moment he saw you; those were the moments when he found out how perfect you were for him. Some women had tried to tame him and molded him for themselves, the few braves enough who thought they could anyway; but you weren’t even trying, and yet you were succeeding. 

“You had been teasing me for too long,” He squeezed your hips before dragging his hands towards your chest. “You shameless woman.”

“I wasn’t- Ah!” Whatever else you were about to say died in your throat when he slammed his hips particularly hard. 

Kenpachi rammed into you, smacking his hips against your ass, his orgasm getting closer and closer. With his hands on your tits, he groped them roughly, tugging at your nipples, earning a stuttered whine from you. It worked well for him that your chest was so sensitive, your breasts were marvelous and he’d gladly play with them all the time. 

He knew how close to the edge you were as well. Your hips kept grinding down on him at an uneven pace, and your moans were getting louder, little signs that gave you away. Sliding a hand down your stomach, he ran his thumb over your clit, stroking with pressure and obvious intent. Your body shuddered instantly, slanting forward on his chest, digging your nails on his shoulders. It made his cock throb inside your heat. 

“Oh God, I’m-” You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your body to his.

“Come on, baby,” Kenpachi encouraged you, giving your clit all of his attention as he glided his dick in and out. “I wanna feel you come.”

Moans and whines left your lips against the skin of his neck, and it only spurred him on. He slid his hand over your ass, grabbing it roughly, making you scream when he slapped it harshly. 

It only took a couple more thrusts before you were coming, quivering as you rolled your hips, riding out your orgasm. Your insides tightened around his cock, bringing him closer to his own release than he expected. 

With a firm grip on your waist, Kenpachi rolled you over, pressing your back to the mattress before he started slamming his hips against yours, seeking his own pleasure. You let out little gasps as he stroked every spot inside you with his cock. He took pleasure in knowing you only made those noises for him and no one else. 

“Fucking hell!” He groaned against your neck, holding tight onto your hips.

Burying his cock deep inside you, he spilled his cum as he came, practically growling into your shoulder, seeing stars behind his lids. Gliding his length in and out until you had milked out every last drop of his load, he pressed his body against yours, panting against your skin. 

Your hands were on his back, softly caressing him, as you both caught your breaths. Kenpachi found the gesture extremely calming, even though he wasn’t used to the feeling. Pulling away after a few seconds, he sank onto his side of the bed, warmth spreading in his chest when you snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. That sensation was also brand new. 

In stark contrast to the coziness that was the bed, he observed, even through the fogged windows, that the snow outside the glass had started to melt. Winter hadn’t been as crude as other years, or at least it felt that way; since you got to the castle, the atmosphere felt different. 

Not to mention that once the intimacy started, the temperature rose. 

Since the castle was given to him, Kenpachi hadn’t been spending so much time in the bedroom as he did after he got married. At the end of the day, he simply couldn’t wait to get to where you were, and that was usually the bed; though you had visited him fairly often at the training grounds, watching him fight with enthusiasm. It was strange; your delicate presence didn’t seem to combine well with your surroundings, but he liked that you were there to see him regularly. It was a pleasant change when he took into account how terrified you looked the first time you saw him.

Kenpachi would have let you return to your palace if that was what you truly wanted, he really would have if you had asked for it when he offered the option to you. But at that moment, he couldn’t even imagine a life in the castle without you. Your presence brought color to his surroundings. If you were to ask him to leave then, he wasn’t sure he’d allowed it. 

Your hand running up and down his chest brought his attention to you, especially when your fingers started skimming through the scar on his left pectoral. You must have been doing it out of curiosity, as you usually did, but your touch burnt his skin easily, and it felt like being cut open all over again. 

“Stop doing that.”

“I’m sorry,” You replied right away, moving your hand to his side. “Does it hurt?”

“That’s not it.” Kenpachi replied, tightening his grip around your shoulder in case you pulled away. “You’re making me hard again.”

“Oh…” You blushed slightly, but remained still. “Is that actually a bad thing?”

Kenpachi quirked his brow. It had certainly been hours and several orgasms since you two got into the room; you had been determined to keep going after each one. You loved being pushed to the edge, and he was more than happy to oblige; but he knew your physical condition could not compare to his, and even the fact that you hadn’t insisted on going again after that last round meant that you needed a break. At least for only a few minutes; he hadn’t had enough just yet. 

“I know you need to recover. Don’t play tough, kid.”

“I’m not playing tough,” You pouted, playfully glaring at him. “I’m your wife, I am tough.”

With a deep laugh, Kenpachi squeezed your shoulder. You hit his chest in jest, but he remained unaffected. 

“I can’t believe I used to be afraid of you. You’re like a giant plushie.”

“A what?” He asked, frowning in confusion. 

“A cuddly toy. You’re very rough on the surface,” You explained, smoothly running your hand down his abdomen. “But you’re nice to cuddle with. And at the same time, you’re like a whole bed yourself with how big you are.”

“Maybe it’s just you who’s tiny.” Kenpachi replied with a smirk. It was a great delight for him that you were so much smaller than he was; picking you up barely required any effort.

“Regardless, I thoroughly enjoy this.” You snuggled closer, burying your face in his neck, goosebump forming on his skin when he felt your warm breath so close to his jaw. “I was so wrong about you.”

“So I’m not barbaric?” He asked teasingly. 

Kenpachi wasn’t a particularly resentful man, but it was even surprising for himself how much it had annoyed him to hear you talk so rudely about him when you tried to call off the wedding. You weren’t even completely wrong; he was violent and enjoyed brutal confrontation more than anything; but his anger had a lot to do with the image he had of you in his mind. Obviously that first encounter between the two of you had left an unpleasant impression on you. 

“You still remember that?” You covered your face with your hand, before sitting up to look him in the eye. “I’m sorry, I was upset and… I did think you were barbaric, but I know better now!”

“You weren’t entirely wrong about all that stuff you said to your father.” Kenpachi had his gaze fixed on yours, gauging your reaction. 

“I guess… Honestly, I thought you were violent in every aspect. But I have seen now that you enjoy combat, and not just plain cruelty!” You added quickly, pleading eyes looking at him as if begging for understanding. “And I accept that. I’ve seen you train with your men, and not only do you look like you’re enjoying yourself, but even your soldiers seem to be having their morale raised by being in your presence. There’s something about you-”

“You get chatty when you’re drunk.” Kenpachi smirked, amused at how much you were rumbling. He noticed the first time you drank more than a couple of glasses how you usually dropped the formal speech, as well as loosening your tongue.

“I’m not drunk, I just had a few glasses of wine.” You pouted, lying back on his chest and nuzzling close once more. “Besides, you’re the one who doesn’t talk a lot.”

“Oh, what does my wife wanna hear?” Kenpachi asked with a grin that was clearly just to mock you. “Maybe I can entertain you.”

The pout on your lips had the ability to make him instantly hard, but he was more curious about whatever silly question you could throw at him.

“Very well then, why were you in the forest when I was attacked by that werewolf?”

The question caught him off guard. He turned to look at your face, trying to somehow see through you, wondering what kind of answer you were expecting from him. 

“I was following you.” Kenpachi replied after a long moment of silence.

“What?”

“I was nearby and saw you go into the forest. And I followed you.”

“Why?”

“I had already seen you at the palace before.” He would have doubted being completely straightforward in other circumstances, but you were already married, and there was no sign of any negative emotion in your eyes, only intrigue. “I was curious about what you were up to.”

“You’ve seen me before?” You asked, looking more confused than before. “But we were never at the same balls or social events.”

“Because I hate those things.” Kenpachi grimaced, recalling how uncomfortable the suits he was usually required to wear were. “But you spent an awful time in the gardens when me and my men were staying in one of the buildings nearby.”

“You’re more romantic than I expected.” You replied with a soft smile, running your hand up and down his side again. 

Kenpachi’s immediate thought was that he wasn’t being romantic, but it was pure lust that had taken him to you. You were carefree, walking around in the gardens with your bare feet as if you didn’t have a single worry in the world, with your maids chasing after you while holding your shoes. You smiled contently when you sat down in your garden full of flowers to pick them up regularly, seemingly unaware of the world around you. He had only wanted to have you when he looked at you from afar, tempted by that vivacious energy. On that fateful night he had followed you with the sole intention of attempting to lure you into having his way with you. He knew the risks and what you must have thought of him if he approached you and he hadn’t cared then, but it was confirmed when you spoke the way you did about him to your father when you tried to convince him not to go through with the wedding.

The romance part, that came much later when he got to know you after you got married. 

“A few of the seeds I planted last autumn have budded.” You suddenly commented, and it got to his attention that you might have had the ability to read minds. “Even through the snow, a few shiny green sprouts had emerged in the garden. I can’t wait to see how much they’ll grow.”

Kenpachi blinked and stared down at you for a long moment before you took notice.

“What?” 

He didn’t exactly know what to say. Your comments seemed to be making fun of him when it was obvious you weren’t. Something had budded inside him for you, that was for sure. He didn’t plan on developing feelings, or whatever other bullshit concept people sometimes talked about when they mentioned the word ‘love’. 

However, circumstances had tricked him into feeling something warm spreading in his chest as he looked at you, as if stars were dancing around you.

Your gaze was fixed on him in confusion before your lips curled into a smile.

“Do you want to see the sprouts?”

“The fuck are you saying, kid? It’s past midnight.”

“So?” You pulled away from his arms and got off the bed in the blink of an eye. “Come on, you’ll be with me! Besides, you already know how much I like going for walks at night!”

Kenpachi was close to letting you go alone, if his mind didn’t scream that it was late at night, and you’d be alone. The castle was secure, but who knows what kind of box full of curses you’d open if left to your own devices. 

Who was he kidding? He didn’t want anything to happen to you, even if that something was as silly as tripping with your own two feet. 

Cursing under his breath, Kenpachi got up, putting some of his warmest clothes on, and following your lead as you walked out the door. 

*

It was a starry night, but the beautiful sight of it didn’t stop it from being freezing cold. Yumichika huffed, wrapping the coat tighter around himself, as he walked along the battlements. 

Ever since you got to the castle, Kenpachi had put him and Ikkaku to guard the grounds, up until dawn at least. He couldn’t believe it at first, but the more he watched you two interact, there was no doubt in his mind on why the captain was being so careful. 

Nonetheless, it was surprising. Yumichika had never seen Kenpachi have a relationship that was even close to what you had with him. His bond with Yachiru was the closest thing, but even that wasn’t an accurate comparison, by a long shot. He didn’t think something like that would ever happen, simply because Kenpachi didn’t seem interested in those kinds of affairs. Most women didn’t like how abrasive he was, and at the beginning you weren’t the exception. 

Before his mind wandered further into what could have possibly happened between you two behind closed doors, Ikkaku walked up to him, complaining loudly. 

“This is so boring!” Ikkaku slumped against the cold brick wall. “If at least something would actually try to attack this place, it’d be justified. But no! Everyone knows who this castle belongs to, who the fuck would try?”

“I share the sentiment,” Yumichika replied, equally bored, as he scanned the gardens. “No matter how much the captain cares about the safety of the lady, I’m sure he’d appreciate the challenge of something attempting to invade us.”

“The safety of the lady?” Ikkaku looked at him with a quirked eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you really that dense?” Yumichika turned to him, staring at him with a frown. “He’s obviously doing this for her.”

“I don’t get it, if it was for her, why put us as security during the night?”

“Because the captain is awake during the day, she doesn’t need protection then.”

“But she does at night?”

“Didn’t you see her taking random walks at night when she first arrived?” Yumichika groaned, exasperated. “Not to mention the circumstances of their meeting.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ikkaku commented, running his hand over his head as he recalled. “She walked past the limits of the woods.”

“I guess we know why she likes the captain now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She obviously likes putting her life at risk if she went into that forest alone at night.” Yumichika huffed, fixing his eyes back towards the garden. “Though I don’t really think that’s it.”

“What isn’t?”

“She wasn’t happy about being here at all, even less marrying the captain.” Yumichika squinted his eyes when he saw two figures in the garden, and grinned mischievously when he noticed who it was. “Speaking of which, look who’s there.”

Ikkaku approached the edge and followed his companion’s gaze, snorting when he recognized the two figures.

“The captain and the lady, walking through the gardens.” He clicked his tongue before chuckling. “Can’t believe he’s following her.”

“I can. Did you see the way he looked at her when she walked in the training grounds the first day?”

“Yeah, so?” 

“There were flowers emanating from him when he noticed her. It was creepy.” Yumichika shuddered dramatically, still keeping his eyes on you and Kenpachi as you walked together through the garden. 

“Yeah, I think I remember that.” Ikkaku paused when he noticed how close you two were walking, and even in the distance, it was obvious when Kenpachi leaned down to place a long kiss on your lips. “Huh, so the captain actually likes his wife.”

“I think it’s more than just like.” Yumichika sighed with a smile when he saw you grab Kenpachi’s hand. “And she seems to feel the same way.”

“Man, I hope they don’t fuck in the middle of the garden.” Ikkaku grimaced moments later when you practically jumped into Kenpachi’s arms to kiss him. 

“Doubt it, it’s too cold to do that.”

“Is that why we haven’t done it in a while?”

“We are here in the middle of the night, idiot, that’s why.” Yumichika rolled his eyes as he elbowed Ikkaku in the ribs.

[cdroloisms]

Hi! Just for your input on a definitely hypothetical scenario that I would never write anything about… Someone has locked c!Dream and c!Quackity in a room together for many months, without weapons, and neither of them are able to die. How are they dealing with their new life?

uhhhhh.miserably ... ? 😂

honestly given the death immunity i think c!dream takes this as exposure therapy. he is sooooooooo not afraid. there'd be quite some beating each other up ifl ... on c!Dream's front, there's the fact that he's Not Scared, c!Quackity is a little pussy, he's completely helpless in a real fight, etc. and c!Quackity is a fucking idiot picking fights he can't win (except sometimes he does, because he hits on some button in Dream's head that makes him freeze up or play dead.) there'd also probably plenty of attempted avoiding and ignoring each other, because honestly. they can't really stand each other, LOL.

the thing with q and dream here, i think, that is obviously very different from daedalus + sam and dream's whole deal is that ... there's just not much they want out of each other. quackity didn't Change suddenly to dream, necessarily--he's never been close to the guy, his introduction to quackity really pivots pretty quickly to him siding with schlatt, who we know dream did not think positively of at all and brought up to quackity during the mexican lmb debates, and nothing after that really helps his impression of the guy at all. at best, quackity is stupid--at worst, he's someone who creates fights that he can't follow through with at a frankly alarming rate, he's someone with a random ass bone to pick with dream and won't hesitate to Start Some Bullshit to make it dream's problem, and he's a completely incompetent leader that would rather seek conflict that blows up in everyone's face than compromise. obviously the torture is an escalation of all of that, but as far as he's concerned quackity was never someone to really draw close to and always someone that had a chip on his shoulder and too little common sense for his own good. he's got no reason to try and understand why quackity did Alluvthat or anything--it's quackity! who gives a shit! fuck that guy! on a similar note, while obviously quackity is more parasocial about dream than the other way around, quackity isn't trying to pick dream's brain and everything he actually wants from dream won't come to him in a room where they're forced to spend time together as "equals" in a certain forced physical sense. he doesn't give a fuck about what dream thinks, he doesn't care about how dream feels, all that matters is 1) the power dream has both by being dream (tm) and a sort of figurehead on the server and the literal power he had to get in quackity's way back in the day, neither of which really do much for either of them at the minute with zero power over their current circumstances, and 2) revenge on the guy because he fucking hates him and because he is scared of dream fucking with him/his countrywhat have you (in large part because, yknow, of the torture thing) only there's zero progress to be made on that front either in the situation that they've been forced in. i don't see aaaaaaany kind of emotional realizations about the other one really happening because Who Gives A Shit if dream/quackity has feelings, Not Me is a sentiment kind of shared here--at most it's knowledge that can be used against the other, make fun of them or whatever, but even any satisfaction from that would be pretty dulled by the whole stuck together in a get along shirt thing.

ultimately i think they'd hate the whole thing, come out the other side hating the other guy more, fight some ignore each other even more because honestlyneither of them can stand each other like, at all LOL. worst fucking roommates arc ever

[eerna]

so glad to WHINE ABOUT TPT.

it should have been wren pov, I agree it seemed like there was a more interesting story going on on her side! And your theory it got rewritten for more jurdan makes sense … also so fucking stupid it’s third person - is there some asinine publishing rule going on? I know readers like to self insert these days, maybe the publisher was worried bc oak is male/a love interest? dumb. dumb.

why didn’t vivi come to the engagement feast? wren had such a hang up on what Vivi said about her, I wanted that resolved (and I just wanted Vivi in general!!!!) wren meeting her human family off screen without a mention of how it went fuckin SUCKED. at absolutely no point was I convinced she should be staying in the house of her abusers being a ruler for people she didn’t know instead of returning to her REAL family. and she didn’t even bond w oak’s family either.

I also enjoyed the dialogue in the garden scene so much, but without wren’s pov it felt out of nowhere or even like she was using sex as self harm. she is so deeply self loathing and so convinced oak will move on for her, so her propositioning him feels like she was trying to rip off the bandaid and get him done with her faster. again, I have to assume because the last time we heard her thoughts was when she would DO that kind of thing. if she’s had this great character growth we don’t fuckin know!!!!!

I had fun but it was also such a disappointment and wren deserves better

Welcome welcome to the whine party~

YEAHHHH presumably it was single POV for the mystery of why Wren is acting so weird, but imo it didn't work. It was so so so painfully obvious and the plot twist didn't twist, so why not just give her the POV. As for the third person, all the Cardan POV content we ever got was also in third person, so maybe HB just doesn't want to write her male leads from first person? The self insert thing occurred to me too, but Wren is one of the least self-insert-able characters I've ever read in YA, and she too had the first person, so idk honestly. Maybe someone who has more experience with HB's novels could figure it out.

I WAS WAITING FOR VIVI THE ENTIRE TIMEEEE like out of all of Oak's family, she was the one who hurt Wren the worst. So where was she!! She lives in the human world, fine, but she was there for Oak's official heir party, so why not for his engagement??? Heather would have Never missed it in a million years. The lack of content regarding Wren connecting to either of the families was sooooooooo bleh, since we KNOW that being a part of one is incredibly important for her and she desperately wants to be accepted by both Oak's big dramatic yet loving family and her own human one. Her returning to the Court of Teeth makes no sense, she only has the worst memories of the place, and it doesn't even EXIST as a ruling body anymore.

SAME on the garden scene! Like you said, it sounded like the Wren from TSH, who used his interest (which she perceived as customary and short-term) as a way to punish herself and treat herself as someone undeserving of proper love. Okay, it's because of the Endless Hunger of her magic, but it's strange to never deal with her pretty unhealthy views of her sexuality. IF ANYTHING, in the final chapter she STILL thinks she is too much and needs too much and won't be able to function properly in a relationship, and we just,,,, never get closure,,, Oak is just like "don't worry" and she's like "ok" and that's it. Head in my hands. This was a romance focused duology and somehow Wren didn't even get her proper closure on that.

Literally my takeaway. Fun. Disappointing. Wren my baby you deserved more.

[theonethatyaks93]

Sketch Showcase Time!!!

Sooooooooo, these are days two and three of my "Learning How-To Draw Pinky and Brain Phase." And, y'all, I think I found my groove! This is attempt 2 of drawing Pinky:

Already, I'm very pleased with this. I mean, this was my attempt to re-create Pinky's design by @goosieboosie. I'm not a digital artist, so I couldn't capture all the majesty of this design perfectly, but I did a decent job. This style allows me to draw Pinky's face a lot easier, and I can get more creative with facial features. I was really happy when I finished this, I kinda freaked out because, he looks great!! I even drew my gender/sexuality headcanons for Pinky beside him, as well as his signature because, why not? I tried to re-draw this picture a few hours later and I made a new discovery:

Sorry for the blurry pic! But yeah, I think I invented my own unique style!! This is the first version of this; there a few changes from my first re-draw. The main changes are Pinky's eyes being rounder, and his ears a little bit larger. I think the base shape of his head is also a little different. I think he looks so derpy!! I was instantly in LOVE with this updated design, so I decided to draw it again and:

The design is a little different again! And also, my first expression!!!! (Ignore the weird as hell erased Pinky head you see; it was a massive failure and I couldn't erase it all :( ) I really think the Pinky on the left turned out better than I thought!! I love his cute little face and his extra floofy head. The second pic is another kind of model pic, but I added a little tongue because it looked cute. I also added the mind bubble and the little blurb just for added effect. I think he looks cute, what do you guys think?

On day three/attempt 3, I actually doodled a Pinky without looking at a reference in one of my books because I was in school. Here's how it turned out:

I LOVE IT!!!! I was so shocked when I finished with this because I think Pinky looks amazing!! It's not perfect, but when compared to day one, it's like night and day. This is my favorite Pinky I've done so far, and it only took my like 25 minutes; what an improvement when compared to over an hour just for one drawing lol! I've made some small changes here, and I will continue to make changes for the time being. I'm still finalizing my style.

Later on, I did something I'm very proud of:

My first full-body Pinky!! I drew the body first and then added a head in later. I also marked certain areas that I might improve upon later, and little personal touches that I added for fun. Yeah, I think his head is a little too tall, but I'll fix that. I implemented some unique elements such as his muzzle area being based on the OG show, the tufts of fur on his head being longer, the chest fur, his feet being stuffed-animal like, his short legs (which will probably be longer in the future), and his tail being from the reboot. I am currently working on hands; they're just not ready yet. I'm very excited to see my own personal style being formed. I like all the touches I added and I'm excited to maybe work on some screenshot re-draws and other things like that.

Here are some hand sketches. Hand are EXTREMELY HARD for me so I'm trying to get an idea of what I want to do. I was either thinking of the one on the left (larger fingers, rounder shapes) or the one on the right (more angular, slimmer fingers). Idk, which hand style do yo guys think would work better?

I'm very proud of the progression I made on these designs. I'm currently planning on drawing Brain very soon and I will be doing screenshot re-draws, experimenting with changes to eye shape, and more expressions. I'm also writing still (new fic currently a wip), and I'm very excited to be contributing more to the fandom!! Let me know where I can improve and some tips on how to draw their hands. Also, special thanks to @cosmicangel139 for the drawing tips for Brain!! You are amazing and I will definitely keep those tips in mind!!!!

[jeanharlowseyebrows]

twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @raylangivins, thank you!!! i've never done one of these and it was fun to think about.

How many works do you have on ao3? so i've actually had like. a lot of ao3 accounts. some of which are still around and some that i have sent on to greener pastures. my 1d fic is #gone but not forgotten <3. for simplicity's sake i'm just going to do my current ao3 account even though all of the works on it are very Indie and Niche and therefore not super widely read. all that being said: 9.

What’s your total ao3 word count? 38,034

What fandoms do you write for? i'm not really like a super single fandom driven writer, if that makes sense. i don't tend to write and write and write continuously for the same fandom. like traditionally i will have one (1) idea per fandom and once it happens then it's done. i've written more yellowjackets fic than any other fandom, but i think that's because there are so many characters and i can muster one fucked up little scenario for each of them. also there are far more fandoms represented in my google docs than what i've published on ao3.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? well. taking into consideration that i don’t really have many kudos on any of my stories (again. niche. indie.), these are the top 5:

something holy (the borgias) soft as cotton, tender as kiss (the haunting of hill house) at every mouth his teeth a sinner champ’d (yellowjackets) princess diana (yellowjackets) the scaffolding of the human body (yellowjackets)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? i always try to! for one, i don't really get that many, so it's easy to reply, and i do really like talking about writing and hearing what people liked, what they didn't like, etc. one of my favorite things to do as a reader is to leave long as shit wordy ass comments on stories i've really enjoyed and i really enjoy when people do that for my stories too. it's just cool to hear what stood out to someone, what they really enjoyed, what they felt. it's rewarding to get feedback and i don't want someone to feel like they've left me a comment and i've ignored them.

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ummmmmmm i would say most of them lean towards angsty/bittersweet? love with claws and teeth (yellowjackets) is probably the most angsty lol sorry taissa turner </3

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? again none of them are really… like… overjoyed. one might be tricked by something holy but in my mind, what lurks around the corner for them is Not Good and therefore the ending is not necessarily NOT happy but that's only because they haven't gotten to the unhappiness yet.

Do you get hate on fics? i haven’t yet but it would certainly be intriguing interesting and compelling if i did.

Do you write smut? rarely. like i try but it’s not my strong suit so i don't do it very often. also i wouldn't say the majority of my fic like. needs it? i'm not typically writing the kind of fic where one might expect explicit sex.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? i write crossovers in my mind and nowhere else. actually i did publish a crossover as a kid on ff dot net and it was stand by me/the outsiders and i specifically remember a scene taking place in a junkyard and people jumping off the tops of junked cars. so obviously it was very normal and good.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? i don’t think so but who knows. the internet is a vast place.

Have you ever had a fic translated? i don’t think so! but it would be fun if i did!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? not really, i don't think i would be very good at it. i am far too attached to the sound of my own voice and also i'm bossy and particular

What’s your all-time favorite ship? this is just too difficult of a question. i've read sooooooooo many ships across soooooooooo many fandoms. like i'll literally read anything i'm not picky. probably my most frequently read ships are like the big standards - deancas, stevebucky, etc. - but that's just because they're very available.

What’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? realistically most of them. i finish maaaaaaaaybe 10% of the things I start.

What are your writing strengths? i really enjoy my own close third person narration lmao. also i think i’m good at like taking little details and creating a scene. otherwise known as imagery (#writing)

What are your writing weaknesses? cannot for the life of me come up with a plot ever

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? it's not something that's necessarily come up for me but if i did it, i would want to know someone who spoke whatever language it was who could help me make it seem very natural and well-placed. i would be extremely reluctant to try like a google translate type thing.

First fandom you wrote for? 1986 classic stand by me, which i just went to my old fanfic dot net account to double check. published in 2006 lmfao

Favorite fic you’ve written? i don’t know if it’s my favorite but i think devotional was kind of a departure for me and maybe stands out for that reason. i still really like the writing style. it’s more sparse than i usually tend towards and also written in present tense, which isn't usual for me. i just think it’s kind of evocative and lyrical and nice and it'd be fun if more people read it lmao

tagging @elliecreed @haniawritesthings @chasingfictions @r-osehips

[luveline]

Hello there, sweet thing!

Honestly, I get all the things you're saying, Like, 100%! Of course I can't speak for all the personal things you mentioned - apart from tousling your hair and offering a comforting smile - but at least the tumblr stuff I absolutely get.

(And that's coming from someone who just recently started writing on here, which should be even more worrying because the first few weeks should always be more fun and exciting than anything.)

Just as you mentioned, there is so little engagement and interaction on this site, and it's extremely disappointing. Maybe it's because I'm old and I used to write in other places before personal stuff killed my hobby for a while, but damn. There's almost nothing here for writers. The most one gets is a like - which is wonderful, sure, but feels really impersonal and cold - and there's little to no feedback for something we put hours of work in. In general, it feels like throwing your writing into a giant void.

And, let's be honest? The void isn't really helpful when you're not feeling great already. It just makes you feel even more insignificant as an artist. Add people yelling for part 2/3/27 and whining about certain mistakes they found and voila. Perfectly demotivated and blocked.

To summarise: I get it. Totally. So feel fondly squeezed by a fellow writer, total bear hug style.

And try to remember: Hate is yelled, love is felt. So the good people are always here, ready to shower you in love ❤️

Have a wonderful wonderful day, sweet thing!

Yeah I kind of feel sooooooooo embarrassed because you take a big break and think maybe you’re overreacting but then when u do post it flops and makes u feel silly for caring that it flopped 😅 I think it’s hard to say where these feeling are coming from, I just don’t feel very confident anymore with what I’m doing. I know I’m not entitled to any attention, or guaranteed that what I’m writing will be enjoyed, but I still feel a little crushed when not many people read it — which is normal! It’s of course so normal to want feedback on your projects, and also normal that they might not be finding an audience !

[stellawolfe30]

How does one join a fandom space on here? Asking cause I'm not very good at socializing, I mean I reblog but most of my commentary is in the tags cause I don't want to be rude. I want to start creating stuff but I don't know if it's going to be any good. You don't have to answer this if you don't want to

So heres how tumblr works ,theres no algorithm.

actually well there is. You.

you make your space, to join a fandom space you follow people, you reblog things. its a community where we pass things from one person to the other. you look through notes of other posts to find accounts that reblog alot.

some people dont reblog alot and some people do, this main account of mine here is a reblog account. i reblog a bunhc of stuff all the time. it helps push posts (especially posts that took alot of hard working making like art,writing videos stuff like that)

Reblogs>likes isnt entirely true. people say seeing more likes then reblogsis disheartening but onlt because the reblog button is the algorithm. the like button is nice and everything but the reblog button is what pushes posts through this site. so even if u dont have any comments to add in the tags pressing that reblog button doesnt hurt either

comments in the tags are in my opinion the best way to send ur opinion on something, there are comments under a post as well in the notes but adding commentary on the post as well isnt rude actually. i'd say. when you have something to add to the conversation add ur own post below it if its compliments then the tags are best for that.

then again im sure youve heard all about that from other tumblr users

its also interacting with people outside of reblogs and likes. likes asks. exactly what ur doing here, asks are imo the best thing on tumblr, i like sending and recieving them. its a fun way to interact with creators on here and sometimes you make some really cool friends. hell i adopted like three brothers on here bc i kept sending em asks and then they stormed into my dm's *cough* Kai-sand *cough*

regarding your content.

GO FOR IT.

post it, i bet you anything someone on here is going to like it. just dont look at the numbers. ignore them. tumblr is slowbc theres no algorithm and its hard for blogs with no followers to gain followers and activity on ur blog.

but once people start rebloggging ur stuff its spread with thier followers and then more ppl see it.

so your blog might stat off slow not bc ur content isnt good but bc tumblr is slow for new blogs. hell even my blogs get slow from time to time.

so go for it man! im sure your content is great and if anything it will improve as time goes on, just dont focus on numbers too much. its nice to see people like it but dont make that ur main focus. make it bc your passionate about it and want to make it. my entire lmk (lego monkie kid) blog is stuff i made for myself and decided to post. people just happened to like it :)

anyways yeah, dont be afraid to reblog, send asks, or post your content. you never know whats gonna happen. i certainly never guessed id make a bunch of friends just through a bunch of asks or fanart i made for them (this doesnt always happen)

sooooooooo yeah, have fun, interact with people. especially creatives. also make sure to look for FAQ links in thier blogs. for boundries cause some ppl might not be looking for friends.

let it happen, dont force it.

aaaaaaaaaaaaand yeah thats all i got for ya.

the fandom space you choose is curated by you, so use the tools tumblr gives you and make it. also if u like a specific topic you can find the tags in the post like for example i like lego monkie kid.

I find a post with lego monkie kid in it and look through the tags. then click on #lego monkie kid.

that takes you to a page with ALL kinds of lmk content tagged with that and then on the right side you can choose the option to follow that tag and then tumblr will show u stuff from that tag from time to time. you can follow as many as you want.

there ya go all my knowledge for tumblr fandoms. and remember to have fun!

[lemontartyellow]

I’ve seen some people compare Gotham and Supernatural and as someone who is a fan of both I want to incoherently ramble about them.

The thing is. I am in a toxic relationship with Supernatural. I finished it, and the last few seasons were sooooooooo mid (Season 15 was even kind of bad) I said no more Supernatural for a while. But within a week or two I was like. But I miss it ☹️. Yeah the last few seasons were brainrot inducing but the first few seasons were pretty good right? So I started rewatching and it turns out that they weren’t that good. Not enough to cure my burnout. So I stopped rewatching. And then like clockwork I began missing it yet again.

But like. It’s more mediocre to me than anything. It is kinda bad sometimes but on the whole it’s the pinnacle of mediocrity with some brain chemistry changing elements in there. And Gotham is. Well. Depending on how you look at it it ranges from extremely bad to mediocre. I think while most of the later storylines are fun even if they’re nonsensical. But some of them frustrate me to no end. Some writing decisions suck major ass. Season 3 when I catch you. But I’m sooooo emotionally attached to it and I have fun. Most of the time. More than I can say about Supernatural most of the time.

[simpjaes]

bestie…i’m BACK HOMEEEE. and let me tell u the hell i went through to get back home. it took me almost a full 3 days from when i left my family home in the motherland to make it back to the comfort of my own bed because of flight cancellations and missing baggage 🤕🤕🤕 im going through it with the jet lag and everytime i close my eyes im in the airport. im traumatized.

IK u said to start with frenzy, but i’m gonna admit i’m saving that for last cause while all of ur writing have some dark/toxic themes…i kind of want to read something less dark at the moment considering my poor mental health at the moment. will def prioritize the jayke fic rn because those are my bfs fr 😫 but i promise ill get to frenzy even if it takes me a long ass time to read it I PROMISE. its your baby and needs the love.

anyways take ur time with the milf hunter jay story…but like pool boy!jay working for a rich family where the wife is a young hot woman who only married her old ass husband for his money and spends her days lounging by the pool when he toddler is off at daycare. she knows jay is always staring at her in her bikinis and they slowly get more tiny tiny until jay can’t take it anymore ohhhh 😫😫😫😫

- 💗

omg there is no obligation whatsoever for you to read frenzy first, especially if you're not in a very good headspace! that fic is just my fucking baby and im very proud of it! it's a fair bit darker compared to the other two i've released since so I definitely suggest starting with the others first!

i hope you're getting a lot of rest though, jet lag is truly an enemy to be dealt with because that shit not only sucks, but sometimes can be pretty fucking painful. make sure to have plenty of fluids and lots of rest!

milf hunter jay is actively now the upcoming fic in progress! im a lil nervous about it tho???? idk why, like i havent written a full ass stalker fic LMAOOOO. but hey, hey, hey.

pool boy jay was one of my options when i was considering a milf fic for him! i went a different route, one where the reader is like SOOOOOOOOO AGAINT GETTING WITH HIM until she's not, anyway. gonna be a fun dynamic for sure though. Might need to lock your pool boy jay up in my brain for something later? or maybe i can add it to this fic, if you don't mind. just have him as her pool boy because she's a rich, single, and depressed single mom LMAO

lemme know if i can do that, bc ill definitely do that and adjust the tags & outline accordingly.

[chasingfictions]

1, 10, and 23 for the writing ask thingy :)

Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

hmm okay well the thing im currently actively working on (though actively is a really strong word because my job has been Insane lately) is a novel (non-fic) n she is a tiny little baby mollusk just screeching into the world so i dont wanna talk abt her (also working on a non-fic short story i dont wanna talk abt for the same reason n also privacy). but in terms of fic that i currently have open in tabs!!!!

ats season 4 for my faith series - the progress of this is pretty minimal bc im holding off on starting work on it until i make more headway on my novel outline, bc writing these faith fics inevitably takes over my life . but! mostly right now my notes are full of like, rambly ideas about how to Fix the Jasmine of It All because i want Jasmine to be a character but, by keeping connor a baby, and my determination to keep cordy herself, i need to change How she comes about . but ok the thing i love most about getting to rewrite this part is that to me ats s4 is where it All Goes Wrong. like, it's the character assassination of cordelia chase, and the show really hitting a misogyny peak which is impressive when u consider how misogynistic it already was . to me the ats s3 finale has so much promise which s4 inevitably makes mean essentially Nothing -- mostly in terms of the show's treatment of cordy. so im basically really hyped to write an s4 that is very much About cordy - about cangel! about angel working through (read: getting bullied by the entire fang gang about until he does something about) some of his misogyny, to become the kind of person who could be in an actual long-term relationship w cordy. this s4 rewrite said Angel's Madonna Whore Complex is On The Chopping Block . also im just really hyped to write jasmine. like, writing mind-altered states to me is very fun-- i love writing dream sequences and ritual sequences and intense emotions . so writing faith under jasmine's thrall ??? im hyped. also maybe half the reason this series exists is to occasion a faith/gwen fling sooooooooo.

i also have open a russian doll fluff fic - basically nadia and alan do a marathon watch of all the timefucky episodes of btvs . i simply love to Make Characters Watch TV . i LOVE writing their dialogue i love them so much. i love getting to rant about btvs filtered via the voice of nadia . the progress of this is decent !! i have like a quarter written and the rest roughly outlined

also have a VERY sparsely outlined succession fic about shiv being a lesbian . essentially a 5+1 (5 times shiv lost to her comphet and 1 time she didn't teeheeeee) . what im excited about here is simply that shiv roy is a lesbian and the world has to know. and also ive never written a 5+1 but i think the concept is just so fun.

ALSO i have another lottie lee yellowjackets fic in drafts . this is very new, mostly just popping the vague vibe of it and a few dialogue ideas into a document . but basically it's based on the new florence song 'casssandra' and it's going to be like, half taking place before laura lee's death and half after. what im hyped about this one is that lottie's precognizance makes me INSANE it makes me INSANE INSANE INSANE and i really wanna dig into just a very heavy heady fucked up littel tone here . also i just . i love lottie lee but i cant even think abt them and im excited to Think About Them In A Structured (lmao) Place bc hopefully that will make the process more tenable!!!!!!

10. How would you describe your writing process?

i've often described it as "building the ship as i sail it" . i love to outline, it's the way that i can write the quickest and with the most energy -- i like basically having little story headings for plot beats, and writing each segment, bc then i can have in my head exactly what im building towards, and can keep a sense of pacing in my head bc i know what else the story is going to contain . but also this allows me to write things out of order , while still having a general sense of the shape of the overall story, bc otherwise things can get really topsy turvy in my head.

but also im a big outliner-as-i-write. like often i will start out with a few story headings that are very sparse, and as i get the idea for one, ill get a sense of how to flesh out another, and im gradually filling in the whole picture, which each part interconnecting to and allowing me to fill in other parts.

like, i guess i write in the same way i solve crossword puzzles.

23. What’s the story idea you’ve had in your head for the longest?

ooh okay -- gonna keep it to fic bc again my original writing is my Sensitive Little Boy (and also i aim 2 have more of that published n and dont want to connect my tiny internet corner to my public writing, in the interest of current n future privacy). but!!!! the two fics ive had in my head the longest i think are both from my spike fluff series:

a spuffy happily ever after wedding fic . exactly what it sounds like on the tin . spuffy getting married - their engagement and wedding and them establishing their life together . also an Everyone-Lives fic, literally partly bc i just want it to be the fluffiest lightest thing possible, and partly bc (as ive demonstrated lol) i simply love writing a Big Chaotic Wedding Where Everyone Is In the Room and Interacting . so like, jenny is alive and wesley and and cordelia and anya and tara and fred and everybody and probably even also joyce-- not kendra just bc i cant undo her death without changing too much of the timeline? but i am Trying to find a way to work her in like, idk maybe ghost kendra is at the wedding idk guys. anyway i love this fic so much i have so much of it drafted and just havent had time 2 devote to it yet . but married spuffy is so real to me theyre SO real to ME!!!!!

a spike and harmony do laundry together fic okay hear me out. early s5 . spike finds out harmony has never done laundry . her parents always did it for her and then her minions and after that she legit panicked bc it felt too late to learn and either paid for a cleaners' to do her laundry or just kept stealing new clothes when her old ones were dirty. but then the cleaners refuses to do her laundry anymore bc she killed too many of them . spike finds this out . he's like. you cant do LAUNDRY? harmony is like what like you CAN? he's like yeah i learned last year at xander's (he's very proud). spike and harmony descend on the 24 hour laundromat . it becomes clear that spike is Very Bad At Laundry Still but Moderately Better Than Harmony . they may or may not break several washing machines from bashing them in a fit of rage. gradually harmony becomes the queen of the late night laundromat demon social scene . this fic means so much to me i could cry. also ive never written spike/harmony before and simply put i think they are so FUN . they are SO FUN.

[wtfisgoingonanymore]

Birthdays In Camelot

Sooooooooo three of my very good and very dear friends had their birthday and I wanted to do something for them. I know this isn’t much, but 1. I am dead inside and school continues to kill me, and 2. …yeah. I’m dead inside. I just wanted to dedicate a little something to you three amazing beautiful perfect angels because you guys are some of the best people ever and you’re always so kind and nice to me. I wanted to return the favor somehow someway. I probablyyyy should’ve made three separate ones for each of you, but I have multiple papers to finish up for next week. I’ll try and do better next time, but for now this is all I have.

So!!! in the spirit of @gayfirebender @thatone-nerdygirl and @junemo10 , this is for you.

Birthdays:

Birthdays are a big thing for Merlin. When he was in Ealdor, he and his mother didn’t really have enough money to celebrate in a big way.

It was usually a slightly better porridge or a new tunic if they were REALLY lucky.

So when Merlin started earning his wages, he immediately looked for the best present he could ever get his mother and then he one upped it the next year

It started out with a delicious meal stolen from the royal cook herself and worked it’s way up to a dress that looked simple enough for a peasant but felt like it was made for a queen

Having ties to Arthur sure helped that out

SO! because of Merlin’s love for birthdays, you know he goes all out for all his friends

It makes Percival so. soft. whenever Merlin skips to him on his birthday and gives him a present

His favorite, by far, is when Merlin gave him an amazing little tree that he takes care off very well. (It’s a magical bonzai.)

Elyan is excited for his birthday cause Merlin gave him the best gifts. His favorite is definitely the new armor design that Merlin drew up based on different knights from different kingdoms. Elyan made it and uses it for himself and himself only.

Leon was very surprised to get a gift from Merlin. It was long long ago when Arthur was still prince and they barely spoke at all.

He was surprised to catch him in his room- setting down a basket full of large bottles.

Merlin was a blushing embarrassed mess at being caught. He and Leon had never had a proper conversation since before that.

He stuttered his way to explain that he knew Leon was constantly aching from past battle wounds, so he made large batches of Gaius’ special salves and potions for Leon to use. That is objectively the best gift Merlin ever got for him because of the memory that came with it.

However, Merlin setting him up on a date with George will soon be the best one yet.

Gwen is a pouty baby because “Merlin! You didn’t have to get me anything! I’m already happy with our friendship.”

She accepts the gifts anyway. Her favorite is definitely the specially made and designed family seal that is dedicated to her father. She cried so much and keeps it with her all the time

Gwaine. Ohhhhh Gwaine. His gifts started out fun, you know? A pint of mead, Finally being able to take Merlin out for a pint, A fully paid night of drinking. Those sort of stuff

But then Merlin goes and starts writing him all these long ass letters. All these letters that talk about how much Merlin appreciates him and how great of a person he is

And Gwaine never fails to ugly cry on those letters. He keeps them all in a special box- it remains his most prized possession.

Lancelot counted himself lucky. With Magic now an available option, Merlin gave Lancelot the best of the best presents from day one of their friendship.

His absolute favorite present, however, is the magichand made knight’s armor, outfit, and sword that Merlin made for him after becoming a knight. It was enchanted too because obviously

Gaius, like Lancelot, got some of the best gifts ever with the help of magic.

Merlin gave him tons of very exotic and new herbs and plants to work with. He’d summon them from a land far away just for Gaius and then plant them somewhere, so he’d have more.

But the best one by far is the new equipment Merlin got for him. Each and everyone had words painted or etched onto it: “Best Father Figure” “Best Physcian” “Best Mentor”. It was nice little reminders that touched Gaius’ heart constantly

Before Morgana left, Merlin’s gift to her were not at all the exquisite gifts that she normally got. No, it was much much better.

Merlin always gave her a peasant’s dress and snuck her out to explore the lower town with him. They’d buy little random trinkets and food and then go out to play and eat in a forest clearing far away from the tyranny and the hate and the duties of royalty.

She didn’t realize until later on that those were the best presents because Merlin always took her to a place where magic was most alive and beautiful and calming and thriving.

Arthur’s birthday was always a tricky one for Merlin. This was his other half and the man he was kinda a little bit very in love with- it had to be perfect.

But in the end, it didn’t really take much thinking at all. This was his other half and the man he was very much in love after all.

Arthur would never be able to decide what his favorite gift from Merlin was. Anything that man gave him, he absolutely loved with all his heart

He didn’t know if it was the refurbished painting of his mother or the tiny farm that was set up for the both of them when they needed a break or maybe all the necklaces and letters and bracelets and tunics Merlin crafted especially for him.

He does know which one he takes especially good care of- even more so than his farm and painting. The most precious gift Merlin has ever given him: His magical heart.

And so obviously, Merlin had to have the best birthday of them all. While everyone got him nice gifts too, they had to give him the best one after a very stressful and bumpy magic and love revealing year.

Normally, it would’ve been a feast. Arthur knew that was definitely not the case. This was Merlin- he wanted it small and intimate.

They set up the nice round table dinner with just their group of friends.

Merlin was already crying when they brought them there.

After eating, they’d all give their gifts to him one by one. Just seeing his friends line up made Merlin cry with appreciation again. Arthur made him sit on the throne for this one.

Percival grinned wide as he gave Merlin pots of the most beautiful flowers and herbs that would typically be needed in potion making.

Elyan was practically bouncing off the walls as he presented a staff he made alongside the druids.

Gwen had to shove Elyan out of the way to present the very special hand made outfits she made for him- fit for royalty.

Leon smiled and chuckled as he gave him the exact same potions and salves Merlin gave to him that first time because now he knew that Merlin needed it too.

Gwaine smirked and stuck his tongue out as he went out and brought back Hunith with him. While they were greeting each other, he slipped his very long and more tear-inducing letter with the rest of Merlin’s gift.

Gaius smiled as he gave Merlin a key. A key to his new magical workshop that Gaius and his very bad back worked on. Later on, Merlin would cry in there as he read all the labels Gaius put everywhere: “Best Son” “Best Warlock” “Best Student” “My Best Merlin.”

Arthur was nervous ash he walked up to Merlin. He tried to speak three times before sighing in defeat. He handed him a scroll that officially declared the magic ban lifted.

Merlin was sobbing at that point. He didn’t know how it could get any better really.

Except that Morgana burst in with a gust of wind in a true dramatic fashion.

Everyone was on defense immediately as they turned to face her.

They all let out different gasps and choked sobs when they were not faced with a wild haired all black outfit Morgana, but with a Morgana in a peasant dress, a basket in hand full of knickknacks and food, and tears in her eyes.

Later on in the night when Merlin slipped into Arthur’s arms, he got his final greatest present.

Ygraine’s ring and four words.

“Will you marry me?”

[homoose]

Winning is a Habit

Hi y’all! Okay sooooooooo this is my first time writing fic??????? Like omg please be nice lmao. I don’t have a beta reader, so if you catch any mistakes pls lmk! I saw this challenge and the world is total garbage, so why not write our own realities????? Ok here goes!!!!!!!!!! Written for @veraiconcos fic challenge

Summary: The BAU gets called to investigate two high-profile murders in a college town, only to find that they are part of a much bigger, more complicated picture. No real pairings, although you could make it happen if you want lol ;) This is an idea I’ve seen floating around the fandom for a little while now, and I really wanted to see it fleshed out. Set around season 4 or 5.

Category: some angst, sort of fluff? I wouldn’t say it necessarily qualifies as an AU, but it’s outside of canon.

Warnings/Includes: some brief descriptions of violence/CM type stuff; mentions of rape (no details)

Word count: 6.1k

———

“Stillwater, Oklahoma,” JJ said, navigating the map off screen and pulling up the crime scene photos. “Two college seniors— Tyler Allen and Leon Williams, star football players for Oklahoma State University— both found dead the day before the playoff qualifier.”

“Do we know the cause of death?” Spencer asked, thumbing through the case file.

“The ME report concluded that both boys died of acute alcohol poisoning,” JJ informed them.

Emily looked up from the file. “And the locals don’t think this could just be a case of college kids having a little too much fun?”

“Before a major playoff game? I doubt it.” Derek leaned back in his chair. “Especially considering OSU’s having a record-breaking season. I’d guess the coach had players on a pretty strict lockdown.” He raised his hands and joined them in a steeple over his chest. “Showing up to a game hung-over— particularly one as important as this— would be a major conduct issue.”

“That, and there was a pretty specific message left on both victims,” JJ added, arms crossed and eyebrows lifting into her hairline.

“On them?” Rossi questioned.

JJ motioned with her hand back to the screen. Six sets of eyes moved over the photo; the words “U LOSE” scrawled in ink across the foreheads of the two men.

“Resorting to murder to win a football game?” Emily asked, eyes narrowed.

“And why use the forensic countermeasure of staged alcohol poisoning, only to backtrack and assert it as a murder?” Spencer pondered, pursing his lips.

“Whatever the reason, we’ve got two dead college students and a definite signature. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch told them, closing his case file.

⧭⧭⧭

“No sign of forced entry.” Derek walked through the entry hallway and into the living space. “Doesn’t look like there was any struggle, either.”

Rossi thumbed through the mail on the kitchen counter and peered around the small space. “Everything you’d expect in a boys’ college dorm room: dishes in the sink, generic decor, general mess. Nothing that stands out.”

“Agents, thank you so much for coming.” A tall man in a dark suit stepped across the threshold of the apartment. He stuck out his hand for Rossi to shake. “Steven Barrett, Dean of Students.”

“I’m Supervisory Special Agent David Rossi. This is SSA Derek Morgan.” Derek nodded from his place in the living room.

“I apologize for not meeting you when you arrived. We’re dealing with a grieving campus,” Barrett said, running a hand over his face. “I’m actually on my way to speak to the Board, but I wanted to check in with you before. I’m not sure I can be of much help, but I can try to answer any questions you might have.”

“These boys were seniors, but they still lived on campus. Is that typical?” Rossi asked, gesturing around the apartment.

“Uh, yes, it is for student athletes,” Barrett confirmed with a nod. “OSU teams have demanding, sometimes grueling practice schedules. Being on campus simplifies things, allows students to get to classes and practices, as well as utilize the dining halls.”

“Does this building have security cameras?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. All of our buildings do. I’ll let Campus PD know you’ll need access to the footage.” Barrett’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached for it and punched the button to answer the call. “Yes. Yes, I—I’m finishing up with the FBI now. I understand. I’m on my way.” He ended the call and pocketed the phone. “I’m sorry to leave you, gentlemen. Our top priority right now is supporting our students and community through this tragedy. Part of that healing process is finding out who did this to Tyler and Leon. So anything else you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hall.

Derek shook his head. “I’m glad I don’t have to do that job right about now.”

Rossi gave another glance around the nondescript apartment and sighed. “Call Garcia and ask her if she’s found any other cases that could be related. And let’s hope there’s something useful on that security footage.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Based on lividity and rigor mortis, I was able to put the time of death between 8:00 and 10:00pm on Wednesday evening. The blood alcohol content for both boys was over five times the legal limit. I’ve never seen anything like it,” the medical examiner mused.

Emily looked over the bodies, her arms crossed. “Dr. Saraj, about how much would they have to drink for the level to be that high?”

“When drinking, the level of alcohol in our blood reaches a peak before it drops off after the last drink ingested,” Spencer supplied. “In a typical night of drinking, spread over the course of several hours, the average man can have 8-12 drinks without ever reaching lethal levels. But considering each victim weighed around 230 pounds, they’d have had to ingest approximately 180 ounces of beer or 18.75 ounces of liquor to reach a lethal blood alcohol content.”

Dr. Saraj glanced at Spencer before adding, “Look, this is a college town. Kids drink. But... to have had this much alcohol still detectable in their system post-mortem indicates that these boys drank at least the equivalent of a 30 rack, by themselves, in less than an hour.” She flipped up the first page of the report in her hands, eyes scanning the second. “And the toxicology screen also found trace amounts of ketamine.”

Spencer bent over the examining table and adjusted the wrist of one of the boys with a gloved hand. “Doctor, are these ligature marks?”

“Oh, yes,” Dr. Saraj agreed, nodding. “They’re relatively faint, so I almost missed them. But I found similar marks on both boys on the wrists and ankles.”

“So,” Emily said, gesturing with her hands, “the unsub doses them with ketamine to gain control, ties them up, forces them to drink lethal amounts of alcohol, and then— what?” She looked to Spencer. “Waits for them to pass out before removing the restraints and leaving the message?”

Spencer examined the marker scrawls. “Were you able to determine what the message was written with and if it was left pre- or post-mortem?”

“My guess would be it was written with some type of permanent marker, but I can’t say for sure,” Dr. Saraj said. “We’re analyzing the residue now, and I can send the report your way as soon as I have it. As for when it was written, I couldn't tell you.” She shook her head. “The one simple mercy is that these boys would have been out cold for a while before they died.”

⧭⧭⧭

“I’m so sorry. I know how difficult this is. Anything that you can tell us will be helpful in finding the person who did this,” JJ encouraged softly. “Anyone that Tyler might have had an argument with recently or who he mentioned having problems with?”

“No, no. He was—he was just your typical boy,” Mrs. Allen sniffled. “Playing football and hanging out with his friends,” she said, voice hitching. “Oh my god.” She dropped her head into her hands.

“He didn’t have time to have problems,” Mr. Allen asserted. “He spent all his free time on the field. Coach had them out there for two-a-days until classes started. He’s the quarterback. He was leading that team to the first national title since 1945.” He stood to his feet, hands clenched at his sides. “Some lunatic murdered my boy and you’re sitting around talking to us while they’re out there, walking free.”

“Sir, I promise you that we have some of the best agents in the country working on your son’s case,” JJ assured. “But in order to help them do their job, we need to know as much as we can about who Tyler was.”

Across the bullpen, Hotch sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Williams. “Leon was a good boy. Football was his life. He loved being a part of this team. It was the season of a lifetime,” Mr. Williams said.

“We taught him better than to be drinking and carrying on,” Mrs. Williams added.

“Can you think of anything or anyone he might have mentioned recently that was out of the ordinary? Anything that was bothering him or causing him distress?” Hotch questioned.

“He was feeling pressure about the season, but he’s been handling that kind of thing since he was twelve years old.” Mr. Williams shared an almost indiscernible look with his wife. “He got into—into the same kinds of trouble any college kid gets in. Nothing that could have gotten him murdered.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Yeah, baby girl, what d’ya got for me?” Derek held the phone out so that Rossi could listen in as they waited in the OSU security office.

“Well, my handsome knight, I wish I could tell you more but so far, I’m coming up empty with similar cases,” Penelope sighed. “Nothing that matches our alcohol poisoning M.O. or the signature. I just expanded the search to surrounding states, and I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Anything on our two victims?” Rossi asked.

“Now that’s where it gets interesting,” Penelope mused, tapping the fluffy end of her pen into the palm of her hand. “There’s nothing. Zilch, nada.”

Rossi narrowed his eyes. “And that’s interesting because...?”

“Come on, sir,” Penelope scoffed. “Two young, athletic, good-looking college football stars and there’s nothing at all? Nothing scandalous on social media. No run-ins with campus PD. Not even a write up from an RA.”

Derek tilted his head in thought. “Hotch and JJ said their conversations with the parents told a similar story.”

“Okay, but no one is this squeaky clean, particularly not at a Big 12 college. Everyone has some dirt,” Penelope insisted. “I haven’t found it yet, but there’s gotta be something out there. When I have it, you’ll know it!”

“Thanks, Garcia,” Derek drawled.

“Over and out!” Penelope jabbed the button to end the call.

The OSU officer waved them over with his hand. “I’ve got it queued up to 6:24pm. You can see the boys here,” he pointed on the screen at the two victims, “entering the north entrance of the dining hall.”

Derek leaned toward the monitor. “So they leave practice, come through the dining hall for dinner. When do they leave?”

The footage sped up on the screen, then stopped. “Here. 7:01.”

“Rossi, you seeing this?” Derek slid his eyes over.

Rossi nodded. “Is there any way to enhance these frames?”

The officer shrugged his shoulders. “Not on this system. Honestly, the camera quality isn’t great. I’ve been trying to get them to invest in an upgraded OS, but you know—budget woes. Your analyst might be able to do more.”

“It’s not going to matter.” Derek sighed and straightened up. “She’s careful of her angles.”

“I couldn’t find them on any grounds cameras, but they pop back up entering the dorm. Here, at 7:12.”

“All three of them,” Rossi noted. He looked at Derek. “And like you said, she’s discreet.”

“They all go upstairs to the apartment,” the officer continued, “but only the girl leaves. At 8:43.”

⧭⧭⧭

“We have a witness from the cafeteria that confirms that the boys ate with a dark-haired young woman in a red coat,” Hotch said, arms crossed. “But other than those two details, the witness couldn’t recall anything else and said they’d never seen her before.”

“So we’ve got the two victims entering their apartment with an unknown woman. They’re upstairs for an hour and a half before she leaves,” Emily recounted.

Derek stood with his hands on his hips. “And in that time, she manages to dose and gain control of two boys that are more than double her size and funnel a lethal amount of alcohol into them. Now the question is why?”  

As the team converged around the conference room table, a uniformed officer entered into the doorway. “Agent Jareau? There’s a possible witness—says she might have some new information.”

JJ nodded to the team and moved to the doorway. A petite young woman stood in the center of the bullpen, wringing her hands. When her eyes landed on JJ, she let her arms fall to her side. As JJ approached, she motioned with her hand for the girl to sit at the closest desk. “Hi, I’m Jennifer. I heard you wanted to speak to someone about this case. Can I have your name?”

The girl nodded. “Um, I’m Cassie. I saw the announcement you made. About the woman in the red coat. I heard you say that she had brown hair. Is that true?”

JJ cocked her head slightly. “Yeah, the witness and security footage we have shows a woman with dark hair walking with Tyler and Leon. Why do you ask?”

Cassie’s eyes darted around the bullpen, and she drew her arms tightly over her chest. “I just— um—well, I—”

“Would it help if we moved somewhere a little quieter?” JJ suggested. When Cassie nodded and stood, JJ placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and directed her toward an empty interview room. Cassie sat in the chair farthest from the door, and JJ sat opposite her. “Is there something you wanted to tell me about the woman? Or is it something else that’s on your mind?”

Cassie let out a long breath. “When I heard that they were dead, I— I was relieved. That sounds awful, but it’s true.”

JJ tread lightly over her next question. “You felt relieved. Why was that?”

Cassie looked directly at JJ. “I’ve been looking over my shoulder everywhere I go for the last seven months. I won’t have to do that anymore.”

“Can you tell me more about what you mean?”

Cassie took a breath and closed her eyes for a long second, before opening them and continuing. “There was a huge party in the spring. I mean, there were, like, hundreds of people there.” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “I never go to parties like that. But it was the end of the year, and my friend—well, I went with my friend. She got invited.”

“Were Tyler and Leon at this party?” JJ asked.

“Everybody was. I mean, everybody who’s somebody at OSU was there. We saw them right away. The whole team was there, but people treated those two like kings.” Cassie looked down at her hands. “We were drinking... a lot. At some point, Laney and I got separated. I tried calling her phone a bunch of times, but the party was really loud. I—I didn’t want to leave without her, but I was getting really messed up. I had a guy friend from one of my classes walk me home.” She swiped at her eye with the back of her hand. “Laney didn’t get back until the morning. Her clothes were all torn up, her hair had... blood in it, and she—she had a bruise under her eye.” She looked up at JJ, eyes shining with tears. “They raped her. I left her behind, and they raped her,” she whispered.

JJ reached across the table for Cassie’s hand. “Cassie, I’m so sorry. What happened to Laney was not your fault, or hers. Do you understand me?” JJ paused before continuing. Cassie looked down. “Do you know if she reported it?”

Cassie nodded. “I’m the one who went with her to the infirmary. They did a kit and confirmed it. When we went to Campus PD, they did nothing. Said Laney was wasted, and there was no one that could back up her story.”

JJ squeezed her hand. “So there was no official report filed?”

Cassie laughed coldly. “Oh, they wrote a report. I think if we ask them to, they have to. But they wouldn’t name Tyler or Leon in it. Said they didn’t want to ‘give legs to any gossip.’”

JJ’s mouth stretched into a thin line. “Where’s Laney now?”

“I don’t know.” Cassie shook her head. “She didn’t come back to OSU this fall. I haven’t really talked to her since—” She looked at JJ. “I can’t get the image of her out of my head. How she looked when she came through the door that morning. What they did to her… I’m not sorry that they’re dead.” Her eyes were shining with rage. “People knew what happened… and no one did anything. And those two were still the kings of campus.”

⧭⧭⧭

The team absorbed the new information quietly. “So Garcia was right. They did have something to hide.” Derek’s phone buzzed. “Speaking of. Hey mama, you’re on speaker.”

“I hope you’re all sitting down,” Penelope warned. “I expanded the parameters of my original VICAP search to include the surrounding states. No hits on suspicious deaths by alcohol poisoning. However, the U LOSE signature? Seven hits across Texas, Arkansas, Missouri, and Kansas.”

“So our unsub’s been traveling across the South—” Emily started.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Penelope continued. “Just to double check, I expanded the search area to the continental US. Our unsub has been busy. Over 30 murders with this signature, all across the country, dating back to March 2007. All different M.O.s: gunshot, stabbing, strangulation, you name it. But all with U LOSE scrawled across their forehead in—get this—liquid eyeliner.”

“Anything tying the victims together, Garcia?” Hotch asked.

“All men, mostly white, but all across different ages, occupations, and marital statuses. At first glance, there’s no real connection,” Penelope answered.

“What about on second glance?” Hotch prompted.

“Way ahead of you, sir. I did a little digging.” Penelope shrugged. “Okay, a lot of digging—most of it legal. Every single one of these victims had at least one sexual assault allegation. Some are official police reports, some are HR complaints, some are sealed court records. But in every case, the victim’s cause of death is directly related to the details of the assault records. Women that were held at knifepoint, their attacker was stabbed to death. If they were choked, he was strangled. If they were held at gunpoint, he died of a gunshot wound. Et cetera, et cetera.” Penelope twirled her pen. “The differing M.O.s combined with the fact that the unsub kept crossing state lines kept local PDs and field offices from making the connection.”

“Garcia, can you search OSU PD records for an incident report?” JJ asked.

Garcia tapped rapidly across her keyboard. “Absolutely, sugar, when would it have been filed?”

“It would’ve been this year, sometime at the end of April or beginning of May,” JJ answered. “The victim would be named as Laney Collins.”

After a few moments, Garcia peered through her green cat-eye glasses at the report. “Mmm, I’ve got one incident report, filed on May 7th. And woof, this report is not much to go on. The responding officer wrote a whopping three sentences. According to him, Laney was incapacitated and thus was not a credible witness.” Garcia twirled her pen. “The alleged attackers, who are not named, denied Laney’s account of what happened. Because there were no other witnesses, Officer Thorough deemed that no further action was necessary.” She jabbed her pen in the direction of the screen. “And this, my friends, is why women don’t bother reporting.”

“Good work, Garcia,” said Hotch.

“There’s one more interesting detail from the report,” Garcia continued. “The dean of students signed off on it.”

“So Barrett knew about this the whole time,” Derek fumed.

“And again, people wonder why women don’t report,” Garcia repeated, ending the call.

“So our unsub is seeking justice for women she believes have been failed by the system. We’re looking for a vigilante, carrying out revenge killings,” Rossi concluded.

Derek nodded. “And she’s organized and efficient; she finished with Tyler and Leon in less than two hours.”

“She’s smart and she blends in, doesn’t draw too much attention to herself,” JJ added.

“She’s meticulous and has at least some knowledge of forensic countermeasures, considering there’s no physical evidence tying her to any of the scenes,” Spencer remarked.

“And she knew enough to keep her face off the security footage,” Emily finished.

“Rossi, Emily, and I will stay here and deliver the profile,” Hotch directed. “JJ, I’d like you to speak to the families again, see if they knew about the rape. Reid, Morgan, talk to Barrett and see what else he might be trying to keep quiet.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Makes you wonder just how many people knew what happened,” Derek considered, closing the car door.

“It’s estimated that twenty percent of student victims of sexual assault report it to their university, but less than one percent of assailants receive any type of disciplinary action,” Spencer cited, making his way toward the sidewalk.

Derek shook his head. “And so the victims don’t see the point in reporting it. Your attacker gets to walk around like nothing even happened. Cassie told JJ that she felt like she had a target on her back once they reported Laney’s assault.”

As they walked up the blacktop driveway to the entrance of Barrett’s home, Spencer slowed his steps as he noticed the front door. “Morgan.” He nodded at the door, slightly ajar.

Derek drew his gun and moved ahead of Spencer. He pushed the door slowly open and called out, “Mr. Barrett?” In the foyer were the remnants of a broken vase and a small trail of blood. “Call Hotch, let him know we’ve got trouble here.”

Derek and Spencer worked to quietly clear the rooms, one by one. Derek stopped at the bottom of the stairs and motioned to Spencer. As they started up the stairs, a woman’s voice called out, “Shut up! You had nothing to say before. So now, you’re just going to listen.”

Derek reached the top of the stairs and started down the hallway. He reached the open door where a woman stood, her back to the door. Behind her, Derek could see Barrett, sitting on the floor, blood dripping from a gash on his head. His hands were raised in front of his chest, palms facing out. Derek stopped, his gun trained on the woman, and murmured, “Laney?”

The woman pivoted her body, her short blonde hair whipping around. Derek saw tears in her eyes and a revolver in her hand. “Don’t,” she warned.

“Laney, my name is Derek. I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to talk. I need you to put the gun down.”

“No!” Laney screamed. “You don’t know what he’s done.” She shook the gun in Barrett’s direction, and Barrett closed his eyes.

Derek spoke softly. “I do, Laney. I do know. I know what happened to you. I know that he kept Tyler and Leon’s names off the report. I know that he didn’t help you when you needed it most. I know that he let them get away with--”

“Rape. He let them get away with rape. Because he cares more about reputation and football than what happens to women on his campus. They ruined my life.” Laney turned away from Derek and put both hands on the gun. “They ruined my life, and you did nothing. And then they walked around campus like they were invincible, because you taught them they were.”

Derek moved further into the room, into Laney’s eyesight. Spencer moved into the doorway, covering Derek. “Laney, look at me. I’m putting my gun away.” Derek held his hands up and then moved to holster his gun. “Doing this won’t make the pain go away.”

“How many others? How many other women did he do this to?” Laney let out a painful sob. “If I don’t stop him, it never ends.”

“Listen to me.” Derek took a step closer to her. “Killing him won’t change what happened, Laney. It won’t. Believe me. I know how you feel.”

“People love to say that when they’re trying to shut you up. How could you possibly know how I feel?” Laney spit out.

“Someone hurt me, just like they hurt you. And nobody was there to help me. No one was there to listen.” Laney froze, eyes shifting to meet Derek’s. “I wanted to hurt him, Laney. Wanted to make him feel the same pain I felt. I wanted him to suffer.” He moved another step closer. “I know that those men hurt you, and I know that he let them get away with it. And I am so, so sorry. But you’re stronger than anyone knows, Laney. You are the only person who has the power to help others who didn’t get justice. I have a friend who’s spent her whole life helping survivors, and I know she’d love to talk with you.” He took another step. “You are the only person who can stop it from happening to someone else. You can make sure he’s held accountable for what he’s done. But if you pull that trigger, you can never go back,” Derek warned.

Laney looked at Derek, his hand outstretched, wordlessly asking her to give him the gun. She looked at Barrett, crying and silently begging her to show him the mercy she never got. “I wish I’d been the one to kill them,” she whispered.

The gun dropped out of her hand as Derek stepped forward to catch her. He kicked the gun into the doorway, and Spencer recovered it. “I’ve got you,” Derek said, helping Laney out of the room. “Shh, it’s ok, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Spencer moved to lift Barrett off the ground and helped him into a chair by the window. Out of the corner of his eye, Spencer caught a flash of red below the window. He stumbled over Barrett, nose almost pressed to the glass as he stared out. The woman froze, eyes locked on Spencer’s. His mouth opened slightly as he stared at her, bewildered. By the time his brain caught up, she had already disappeared from view.

Spencer turned and raced down the stairs, clinging to the railing as he nearly missed a step. He burst out the front door into the driveway, sprinting around the side of the house. He heard Derek call his name, saw the other SUVs pulling up, but he kept running. He skidded to a stop at the edge of the backyard, and then spun in a full circle, eyes frantically scanning the perimeter.

Hotch approached from the side of the house, gun drawn. “Reid! Are you all right?”

Spencer took a last look, scanned from east to west. “Yeah, yeah. I just—I thought I saw—I thought I saw something.” He shook his head. “Barrett’s inside. He’s got a head laceration, but he’ll be fine.”

Hotch lowered his gun and nodded. “And Laney’s not our unsub. So we’re back to the beginning.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Strauss is asking us to head back to Quantico.” Hotch pocketed his phone and looked at the team. “We’ll move the cases to our watch list and flag the signature for hits in VICAP. From what we know about the unsub’s behavior, we know she’s no longer in the area.” He gestured to the evidence board. “Our best course of action is to keep the profile in our periphery for now. We can do that from the BAU. It’s late. Go to the hotel, get some rest. We’ll leave first thing in the morning.”

“I’m absolutely starving.” Emily slipped into her jacket and headed for the door. “Anybody want to hit up that 24 hour diner?”

Derek and JJ quickly agreed, following Emily from the conference room. JJ turned back, eyeing Spencer. “You coming, Spence?”

“I’m just really tired.” His voice lilted up, almost a question. “Next time, though.”

JJ gave him a look but didn’t press him. “Have a good night, Spence.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He gathered up the case files, not quite ready to put them away.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer’s eyelids felt heavy as he walked through the lobby of the hotel. He really was tired. He blamed the exhaustion for what he thought he saw through the window at Barrett’s. His fatigued mind was seeing things that weren’t there. He practically floated into the elevator and up to his room. Sliding the room key through the slot, the door beeped open and Spencer stepped inside. He flicked on the light and dropped his bag on the floor, loosening his tie as he walked toward one of the sling back chairs sat by the window. He paused just before he reached the chair, his gaze lingering over something on the desk. A note hastily scrawled on hotel stationary.

623.

Spencer lifted the note with two careful fingers. “623?” He turned it over, looking for the rest of the message, but the paper was blank other than the number. He lowered the note, and his eyes landed on a small plastic card where the paper had rested on the table. Not just a card. A room key.

⧭⧭⧭

Spencer stared at the door of the room. Room 623. He turned his head and slowly looked up and then down the hallway. He took a breath and raised his hand to the door. He knocked in the familiar rhythm: five knocks, pause, two knocks. He pressed his ear close to the door, listening for any movement inside. When he heard nothing, he knocked again; the same pattern, but a little louder. He listened again. Nothing. Spencer felt a bead of sweat creep down the nape of his neck. He thought about turning around, about walking back down the two flights of stairs to his room and getting into bed.

Instead, he pulled the keycard from his pocket. As he lifted the card with one hand, he used his other to raise the strap on his holster. He held his breath as he swiped the card through the slot and heard the beep of the lock. Drawing his gun from the holster, Spencer slowly turned the handle of the door.

The room was mostly dark. Only the yellow glow of one of the bedside lamps illuminated the space. Spencer stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. Again, his mind said to turn around. Yet his feet carried him further into the room. He could see now that the sling backs were facing toward the window. There were two glasses from the mini bar on the table between them.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” a familiar voice mused.

Spencer startled and then swallowed audibly, a cartoon character realizing he’s in serious trouble. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

“You can put the gun away,” she continued. “Really. Come sit down, Reid.”

Hearing her say his name sucked all the air out of his lungs. He closed the remaining distance between them, staring dumbly at her perched in the armchair. She gave him a small smile, warm despite the nervous energy in the air. “Hey, Reid.”

“Elle.” Spencer sunk into the chair across from her. “I—I thought I was seeing things. Earlier. At Barrett’s.”

She studied him quietly. “This hair is a good look for you.”

“Thanks,” Spencer blushed, smoothing down the hair at the nape of his neck. He quickly dropped his hand. “It was you then.”

“What was me?” Elle asked innocuously.

“You were at Steven Barrett’s house today. In the yard.” Spencer folded his hands to keep from wringing them. “You were wearing a red coat.”

Elle lifted one of the glasses to her lips, taking a sip of the clear liquor, ice cubes rattling. She swallowed and gestured to the other glass. “Have a drink.”

“I, um, I don’t drink anymore.” Elle raised an eyebrow. “A lot has happened since… the last time I saw you.” Spencer smoothed his hands down the tops of his thighs. “You were there today. Elle, did you—are you…” He wasn’t even sure what question to ask.

Elle ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass. She was quiet for a long time. Spencer fidgeted in his seat, but stayed quiet, waiting. Elle set the glass down.

“Do you remember that night in Dayton? In the hotel room?” Spencer looked at her pointedly. Elle let out a laugh. “Sorry, I forgot who I’m talking to; of course you remember.” Their eyes met. Spencer felt she was looking right through him. “You told me that I’d won. That because Garner was dead, and I was alive, I won.”

“Elle—” Spencer started.

“You asked, Reid. This is my answer.” She screwed the cap off the bottle of gin. Pouring the remainder of the bottle into her glass, she continued, “It took time, but I started to feel safe in my own home again. I could close my eyes without seeing his face. I could take a shower without bringing my gun.” She downed the rest of her glass. “When I killed Lee, I gave that same freedom back to the women he’d raped. They could exist in the world knowing that he would never hurt them, ever again.” She smiled ruefully. “And it felt… good. It felt right. And after years of having watched people be destroyed by monsters… I don’t know. It was just something I had to do. To bring that freedom and that safety back to other women who had been hurt and broken and alone. To destroy their monsters.” Elle looked at him then, eyes shining with unshed tears. “I don’t expect you to understand or approve. But the answer to your question is yes.”

Spencer took a breath and asked, “Why’d you put the key in my room? You could have just… disappeared.”

Elle shook her head. “I chose this. I knew what I was doing and what it would mean. Most of the time, I’m fine, great even. Because being able to give these women justice is the greatest gift. But with this work, you can’t really keep anybody close. No holidays or birthdays. No dates or girls nights.” She shrugged. “I guess I just wanted to see what would happen. What the boy genius would do.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Spencer admitted.

“Well, that’s a first.” Elle smiled, but Spencer could see apprehension in the rigidness of her shoulders, in the slight bouncing of her leg.

“I should probably arrest you,” he considered.

Her leg stopped. “You probably should.”

Spencer looked down at his hands. He ran his fingers up to the crook of his elbow, ghosting over the scars there. His mind raced from memory to memory: Elle on the train car; Tobias Hankle standing over him; Elle in the hospital bed; the needle in his arm; Elle in the hotel in Dayton; the click of an empty chamber.

“Elle, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you that you’d won.” She was motionless, staring at him. He continued, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know what it was like. To be consumed and overcome by a memory.” Now it was Spencer’s eyes that shone with tears. “I didn’t know that the trauma could… fester in your brain like an infection that you can’t get rid of. I don’t know if winning is even possible after something like that.” He rubbed his hand under his eye and cleared his throat. “It was an awful thing to say. And I’m sorry.”

Elle tipped her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “All’s forgiven.”

Spencer reached out and gently grabbed Elle’s hand. “I’ve been so tired recently. I thought I saw something through the window at Steven Barrett’s house. But when I did a perimeter check, I didn’t find anything.” Elle dropped her head back down and turned to look at him. “We’re headed back to Quantico in the morning. We’ll, um, be keeping tabs on VICAP hits on the signature.” Spencer gave her hand one soft squeeze before standing. He let a small, bittersweet smile move over his face.

He made it to the door before he heard her voice again.

“If I asked you to stay, would you say yes?”

Spencer swiveled back to look at her, the door just barely open. Elle’s arms were crossed over her chest. Her eyes were dark and wide and full of storms. “Just for a little while longer?”

Spencer turned and moved his eyes up the length of the doorway, considering. He heard Elle let out a breath. His own breath stuttered. He closed the door softly. He put his hands in his pockets and turned back to her. “I’ve got a little while.”