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mostly-imagines · 4 months

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Who Needs Heaven? : The Drop-In

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason meets his daughters

warnings: it’s not specific if the kids are bio or adopted — this probably doesn’t make sense on multiple fronts but i DON’T CARE

see for: the vibes

His body jolts like he’s snapping out of sleep. The first thing he processes is loud conversations echoing, the sound of young girls talking over each other. He surveys over a book in his hands that he’s never heard of, though it’s opened more than halfway through and considerably worn. He drops the book to the side, coming to a stand and scanning over the environment.

He looks around the adorned living room, taking in details rapidly. He doesn’t recognize the house he’s in but he can tell it’s somewhere he definitely does not belong. The room is filled with books on shelves and picture frames are littered in every free spot in between. The lights are warm and the furniture is colorful with pillows and blankets strewn all over. It’s a stark contrast to the refined stoic Manor he’s so used to; there’s a distinct feeling of homeliness and warmth that seeps through the walls.

He creeps into the front entryway to the house as quietly as he can, peering up the staircase to the landing above for any signs of familiarity or danger. From his right, a girl comes darting into the space, running face first into Jason. He immediately reaches out to steady her but she shows no sign of disruption. She makes a point of holding the wrapped popsicle in her hand away, keeping it safe. She blinks up at him before taking off past him, calling out, “Sorry, dad!”

Dad?

“Anna, I swear to God—” Another girl of similar age runs past, paying him no mind.

He gapes after her, thoroughly confused. Where the hell is he?

“Daddy?” He turns around and looks down to a younger girl who looks about six at most. She stares up at him with wide eyes and freckled cheeks. “Are you okay?”

He can’t think.

This isn’t…this can’t be real. It can’t be. This is a dream. He got knocked out. He’s hallucinating. He’s dying.

He tries to keep his breath steady as this little girl peers up at him with curious eyes. “Daddy?”

He opens his mouth, struggling to find words, let alone get them out. “Where…where’s your mom?” He can barely make out his own voice.

“She’s in your room,” she tells him, looking up the stairs.

He treds up the stairs slowly, the chatter downstairs barely getting any quieter. The second floor seems deserted in terms of the presence of children. If, if this were real (or more likely, a dream) you’ll be here somewhere. There’s no scenario where he’d ever imagine a life in a big house with a big family without you—subconsciously or otherwise.

Several doors line the wide hallway, most of them open. He peers in the room closest to the top of the staircase, finding a heartily decorated bedroom with two twin beds. Polaroids and movie posters litter the walls and clothes are strewn across on top of the bed covers and in a few small piles on the floor. An orange lava lamp illuminates the room from a desk, shining off the glossy cover of magazines. Above, sports medals dangle off the wall against a white board, a scribbled on game of hangman midway through. A full-length mirror covered in stickers along the edges reflects a bookshelf across the room, dozens of books stuffed on each shelf. He blinks vacantly, pulling back from the doorway and continuing on.

He continues on down the right side of the hallway, passing up a bathroom and a closet before peering into the next room. It also has two beds, but it’s filled with remnants of young children. A small table with a tea set laid out on top sits in the middle of the room with various princess dresses draped across the short chairs. Pink bed sheets and butterfly-filled curtains joined by toy cars lined against the wall and strings of pink starry lights hanging from the ceiling. Both beds have stuffed animals arranged in thoughtful piles. It takes Jason a moment to notice the tattered, worn elephant with the green polka dot tie on the bed with the Cinderella comforter. Pickles. It was his when he was a kid. It’s placed delicately at the top of the pile, like he’s the king of the crop. A grand dollhouse sticks out against one of the walls, the dolls all lying asleep in their makeshift beds. Fluffy bubblegum and fuschia rugs scatter the floor just enough that you could jump across the room without ever touching the hardwood.

He turns to the last room, a door directly across that’s just cracked open. He can hear light music coming from inside and the almost inaudible shuffle of movement. He pushes the door open cautiously and takes in the sight of a woman, back to the door, folding laundry on the bed. He doesn’t even need to see your whole figure to know that it’s you.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds like he’s out of breath.

“Yeah?” You turn around with your same kind eyes and gentle disposition. You look older, not much older but your face is more mature. You even hold yourself a little differently. You quickly notice the way he scans you with a look of bewilderment on his face and jump into concern. “What’s wrong?” You drop the shirt that you’re folding on the bed, approaching him with soft steps. Everything feels fuzzy.

“This—this is…” His voice seems far away, this body feels further. “This isn’t real…”

“What? Jay, what are you talking about?” You’re so genuinely concerned about him it makes his heart hurt and does nothing to help clear his head.

His breathing starts to stutter and his eyes can’t pick something to focus on. Everything is telling him that this is a false sense of security, he’s not safe, you’re not safe, everything’s wrong—

“Woah, hey, hey. It’s okay.” You take his face in your hands the way you know tends to ground him. “Catch me up.”

He tries to focus on the sliding clasp of the necklace around your neck. “I…I think this is…” He doesn’t want to say it. He doesn’t want to get his hopes up only to wake up in a few seconds and find that it was all pretend. Instead, he’ll settle for, “...This hasn’t happened…”

You frown at that, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

He breathes out heavy, “I think I’m dreaming.”

“What are you dreaming of?” You walk along this train of thought with him, though he has no idea why you would entertain it. This really must be pretend.

“The future…this is…is this the future?” He’s whispering, he’s not even sure if he’s asking you or himself or maybe even God.

You’re quiet for a minute before you speak again. “Oh,” you say contemplatively, not nearly as alarmed as you should be. You should probably be calling him crazy, right? “This is—you told me about this. Yeah, it had something to do with that clock guy—”

He blinks a few times, “The Clock King?” That does sound…familiar. Was he—he was with Bruce wasn’t he? Or maybe Dick. Both?

You nod, “Yeah, yeah. You said you ‘time traveled’ for a minute...but that was in, like…”

He fills in the blank with the year as he remembers it and your eyes go wide. “Well, this would be a bit of a surprise then.”

“We have kids?”

You laugh, brushing his hair back gently, “Yes. Yes, we definitely do. Five girls.”

“Five?” He breathes.

“Yeah. Wasn’t the plan but…” you shrug easily, “Here we are.”

He barely stops his next question from coming out of his mouth and replaces it. “Is this something I should be hearing?”

“What?” You tilt your head for a second before realization flashes across your face. “Oh, you don’t end up remembering any of this.” You shrug, mouth scrunched up to the side, “So why not?”

He does really want to hear about them. “Please.” He whispers faintly.

You nod reposefully, “Okay, well…” you pause, eyes on the ceiling. “Oh, wait.” You dart over to the bookshelf against the wall and pull a book from the second shelf from the top, a large pink photo album.

You shuffle back, guiding him to the bed and sitting thigh to thigh with him and placing the album on your laps. You flip it open to the first page, which displays an array of photos of who must be his daughter.

“This is Mia—Miriam—she’s the oldest. She’s thirteen now, she’s very smart and a sort of a perfectionist. Really a perfectionist.” A couple of her baby pictures were taken in your apartment and it makes his heart absolutely melt to see you as he left you, holding a baby—his baby—with a glowing smile on your face. There’s another photo of her, kindergarten aged, dressed up as Spoiler for halloween. One shows her on a bike with shimmery handlebar streams, Jason holding her steady as she learns. He’s wearing the brightest smile he’s ever seen on his own face.

“Then there’s the twins,” you continue, flipping to the next page. You laugh when his breath hitches at that. “I know. It’s not as scary as it sounds. Well, not now that they’re older. Ryan and Anna.” You point to them as you say their names, and he recognizes them quickly as the two girls that had run past the stairs. The twins look identical, the only discernible difference found in that Ryan is grinning in every picture with a glint in her eyes and Anna nearly always has a stoic look on her face.

“Ryan is her father’s daughter. She thinks she’s very clever and even more funny, and she is but don’t tell her that, it goes straight to her head.”

There’s a picture that has to be a couple of years old by now of the two of them dressed in what looks like brand new soccer gear. Another depicts one of them chasing Tim with a firework sparkler at dusk. He sees one of Ryan covered in dirt and tiny cuts, smiling big, helmet crooked on her head.

“Anna’s a happy kid, she is. Don’t let her attitude trick you—she just likes to keep her feelings to herself.” Anna’s pictures remind him of Damian in some ways. The very intentional lack of a smile but the happiness still seeps through anyways. One of her pictures has her cuddling with two rottweiler puppies in classic Damian style. Another one shows her a bit older, on Jason’s shoulders, surveying the land.

You turn to the next page, “And Laine, uh, Elaine,” you smile, “She’s a bit eccentric. She lives in her own world but she’ll bring you into it with her. She likes magic and glitter and offbeat things.” Laine’s pictures leave a particular warmth in his heart. She has the absolute widest smile and the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. One photo shows her having a picnic with several stuffed animals, another has her drawing a rainbow with sidewalk chalk. One picture towards the bottom of the page grabs his eye, one of Laine happily braiding Cass’ short hair at what appears to be the Manor.

“And then the little one is Aurora—Rory,” You turn to a page full of pictures of the wide-eyed girl, who has the sweetest baby face. He can tell from the pictures alone that she has your personality. You point to a picture of her giggling with bubbles all in her hair as you explain, “She’s still small but she has a big heart and a very sensitive soul already.” Jason’s practically staring a hole in the picture of Rory as a newborn in the hospital, held delicately by Bruce.

You play with the hair at the nape of his neck as he processes quietly, letting him take his time.

“They’re happy?” He asks in a whisper.

“We’re happy.” You say affirmingly. He looks you in the eyes and you see a specific vulnerability in his that you haven’t seen in a long time. “You are a good dad, Jay.”

He’s still surprised that you can read him like a book, even though at this point you’d have been together for at least fifteen-some years. His eyes burn and he’s not sure he can keep it together. But you dig the knife in all the same, “They love you. A lot. We couldn’t live without you.”

You flip through until you find a page later in the book, plopping it back open fully. The first picture he takes note of shows him outside with picked flowers scattered in his hair wherever they’ll stay put, Laine and Rory trying to straighten them out. Another is of Anna hesitantly feeding a horse an apple, Jason crouched next to her, reassuring her. On the other page, Rory is mid-air being thrown into an absolutely massive leaf pile, glee adorning her face. He turns the page to find one of the girls with a red hoodie pulled over her head and a makeshift mask made from a red plastic plate with holes cut out for the eyes. One has Mia resting against his back, passed out, as he helps Ryan tie off a friendship bracelet on her wrist.

This isn’t—he doesn’t deserve this. This can’t be true, this is more than a happy ending and he’d never even expected you to love him this long, let alone give him the world and then some. He stares at the page for a while, trying to burn every detail into his head.

You tear your gaze away from his face to glance at the clock on the side table, muttering, “Oh shit. Hang on.”

His eyes follow you as you stand from the bed and walk across the room to the door, cracking it open a few inches before shouting out, “Bed!”

There’s a brief delay before a clamor starts towards them, all five girls thumping up the stairs.

You turn back to him, heedfully, “You can stay in here if you want. They’re a little…a lot.” You say tentatively. Well, if there’s anything he’s accustomed to it’s big families with bigger personalities.

Jason lingers behind you as you enter the hallway, looking like a little kid in an unfamiliar place. Whatever conversations were going on downstairs have simply moved location, no urgency present whatsoever to continue on with the progression of the night. You’re trying to verbally corral them towards their respective bedrooms, but it’s a tough job with two clear headed parents on a good day.

He stands frozen in the midst of the clutter of them as they rattle off to you and to each other. He’s scared to say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing. He doesn’t want to upset or alarm them. But because he is their father, they don’t need him to do anything strange to realize that he’s being strange.

Ryan squints up at him, “What’s wrong with you?”

The question grabs Laine’s attention and she looks to you with wide eyes, “What’s wrong with Dad?”

You shake your head, “Nothing’s—”

“He’s not having a stroke already, is he?” Anna faints, no alarm in her words. Mia thumps the back of her head for that with no returning acknowledgement given by Anna.

Ryan is looking at him like she’s sizing him up. Something you did not get a chance to tell him about Ryan is that she can smell blood in the water like a shark. So it’s not surprising to you that she picks up on Jason’s disoriented state.

“Father?” She calls out sweetly.

You sigh, “Ryan—”

“No, it’s okay. I want to ask dad specifically.” She turns him away from you with a smile. She doesn’t know what’s going on and she doesn’t need to. She’s an opportunist like that. “Could I have the last popsicle?”

Anna cuts in harshly, “You better n—”

“Hey Annie, few notes for ya,” Ryan says with widened eyes and a pointed finger, “One, you shouldn’t interrupt your father, it’s disrespectful,” Anna’s face contorts at that, and she’s about to bite back but she’s cut off quickly by Ryan’s dedication to dishing out her hypocritical sermon. “Two, you shouldn’t interrupt me because it’s potentially the single greatest sin you’ll ever—”

Alright, you gave her a chance to turn it around, she’s done now. “No, you’re all going to bed now and if you’re lucky that popsicle is still there when you get home from school tomorrow.” You tell Ryan with a pointed look. She gives you a half-hearted glare, absolutely nothing compared to her real one.

“Mom, you said—” Mia throws her hands up as she recounts a promise that you may or may not have given her, it’s anyone’s guess.

Then Anna starts up, “That’s not fair, I called—”

Rory pipes up from behind you. “We’re supposed to read our story first.”

You inhale sharply, turning to face her, “Oh—” you crouch down to her level, holding her waist. “How about I read it tonight, Rory?”

She frowns, “Daddy always reads it.”

Ryan taps on Jason’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Dad, listen,” she says lowly, like she’s trying to get him in on the deal of the century. “Anna doesn’t deserve it, she’s rooting for you to stroke out—”

You frown at Rory with repentance, “I know sweetheart, but—”

Laine looks quite contemplative as she announces, “It’s unholy to break tradition.”

You scrunch up your face and swivel your head to her, “What?”

This declaration does enough to break Ryan away from her scheme. She turns to her and says flatly, “You haven’t said anything that makes sense in like two weeks.”

Jason’s mind is going a mile a minute, trying to process the fifteen things that are going on all at once and take in the fact that these are his children. His daughters and they’re so loud and opinionated and bold and he loves it. He thinks this is the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. Hell, he’d take this over heaven a million times over.

“Mom. Mom!” Mia urges, “Can you help me?”

Your head stutters between your daughters, “I—yeah. Rory, just—”

“I can do it.” He says quietly.

“Yeah?” You look up at him, hopefully, genuinely delighted that he wants to jump into this mess without the twelve years of prep that you’re dependent on.

“Yeah.” He nods, determined and you and Rory smile up at him. Mia all but yanks you up from the floor, pulling you to her room and you can just barely make out Ryan’s hushed murmur of, “I’m getting the popsicle…”

Rory takes Jason’s hand, drowning her own in his. She leads him to the pink bedroom with all the toys, and climbs onto the unicorn bed, shoving all but a few of the stuffed animals onto the floor. Elaine follows close behind and does the same with her own bed, though the only one she keeps is Pickles.

He stands next to the bed a bit awkwardly as she pulls a book off the table next to her, the length of the book easily taking up half her arms. It takes her looking up at him expectantly for him to get the hint, shuffling to squeeze in next to her on the small bed.

She hands him the book and he regards it with a smile. Little Women. He pauses as he starts to open it, “Where, um…where did we leave off?”

She looks at him funny, smiling like he’s messing with her. She flips the book open a little more than halfway through and stops on chapter fifteen. She presses her pointer finger down to the start of the chapter with a thump. “Right here.”

Jason takes a steadying breath and begins reading in the same soft voice he reads to you in, and it seems to appease both girls. He’s not processing what he’s saying as he sits there with his littlest daughter tucked into his side and hanging on to every last word. He can feel her breathing in and out softly and it all feels so surreal now.

““I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.” Rory giggles as Laine gasps, and Jason can feel the rhythm of his heart fluttering in a new way.

He reads to the end of the chapter and returns the book to its place on the side table, and reluctantly pulls away from Rory, standing up again. He tucks her nicely, if not inexperienced, into the sheets and kisses her forehead. She immediately holds out her toy bear, silently requesting the same treatment for him. Jason kisses the bear too, happily. He does the same for Laine, taking particular note of the way she hugs Pickles to her chest tightly.

He starts towards the door, but is quickly put to a halt. “Wait,” Laine calls out. He turns back to her wide-eyed, terrified he did something wrong. “The lights,” she says, looking up to the ceiling at the dangling stars. Oh, right. She watches him skeptically as he innocently looks around for the switch, and Rory tilts her head at him, not sure what he’s playing at.

“It’s right there,” Rory points with a mildly sullen look to where the mechanism dangles near the outlet. Jason quickly flicks the lights on, the soft orange-pink glow of stars illuminating against the walls. Rory’s pleased enough and adjusts to get more comfortable in her bed.

Laine however, hisses out a, “Hey,” gesturing him towards her. He sidesteps the tea table and comes around to her side of the room, kneeling down by her bed attentively. She glances over at Rory before asking in a hushed voice, “Are you an alien?”

That, he wasn’t expecting. “...What?”

She shakes her head reassuringly, “It’s okay, I won’t tell. But um…I would like my dad back eventually please. If that’s okay.”

His breath stutters and he forces out an, “O—okay.”

She holds out her pinky and it takes him a second to register what she’s asking. He wordlessly pinky promises her and she smiles big, pleased with the agreement.

He stands again, feeling light headed as he heads for the door.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Rory murmurs against the pillow, watching him leave.

His gaze flickers back and forth from them to make sure they like having the door closed, Rory watches him bemusedly and Laine nods at him slyly with a twinkle in her eyes. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight,” He exhales, not as loud as he meant to. He clicks the door shut softly and there’s a warmth in his chest that he could get addicted to.

He wanders down the hall towards the sound of your voice, passing Anna and Ryan climbing under their covers and murmuring something to each other, half eaten popsicle in the ladders hand. He passes the staircase, peering his head into the next room over. His eyes immediately land on you and Mia stood in front of an armoire, shuffling through clothes having an exchange of considerative words.

Mia’s room is very neat and put together, everything is placed with much more intention than in the other girls rooms. Her room has more mellow colors too, largely white with soft shades of pastels throughout. There’s a desk with organized notebooks and multiple vases of flowers, with bundles of yarn placed nicely in a basket in the corner. A tall bookshelf is filled with fifty-some books with a violin case leaning up against it. Nail polishes rest beside a jewelry box on the side table next to her bed. She also has picture frames across the walls, some containing photos of flora, others of the family, and a few of what appears to be her own sketches.

“—worried it’s too showy, you know?”

You hum, “I don’t think so, I mean, not for picture day.”

Mia turns to Jason, shirt held up against her body. “What do you think?”

He takes a second to bounce back from the surprise of being asked the question, “I, uh…I like it.”

You smile at him as Mia faces you again, “Okay, so this with that flowy lilac skirt?”

“The lilac…yeah, that would be cute.”

She nods pleased, draping the shirt over the back of the armchair in the corner.

You and Jason head out of the room, closing the door on your way out so she can change into her pajamas.

“Goodnight!” she calls out through the crack in the door. You and Jason return it in sync, clicking the door closed. You hold his hand as you walk past the twins' open door, giving them the same sentiment with Jason’s own following quickly after. They call it out back, louder than necessary, and you close your bedroom door behind the two of you.

You rest against the door and he leans his head back against the wall next to you, glancing over at you. “I won’t remember any of this?” He seems dejected at the idea, not happy to have been handed the world and then having it swiped from his memory immediately after.

You consider it for a second, shaking your head, “I don’t think so.”

He’s quiet for a bit, thinking. “Do you have a marker?”

“A marker?” You look around casually, “Uh, yeah.” You unclip a sharpie from the mini calendar pinned against the wall, tossing it to him. You watch curiously as he holds his forearm out in front of him, popping the lid off with his mouth.

The light in the room starts to dim dramatically until his vision is completely dark. The pull of gravity on his body feels wrong and a pang of fire shoots against the side of his head.

“Hood.” He hears in the darkness, “Hood.” The commanding voice startles him awake once again. “Are you alright?”

He blinks up at Batman blearily, feeling like he’s just gotten hit over the head with a chair. “What…what—”

“The Clock King. He threw some sort of device at you. It knocked you out for a few minutes. Are you alright?”

He feels dizzy. “Uh…yeah.”

He cranes his head to glance over at where the Clock King is hunched over on the ground, handcuffed, inspecting the cartridge of his device closely. “Damn it, I knew it wasn’t right. Meant to knock him into the past.” He tells Nightwing like it’s some common mistake they can bond over.

Nightwing moues at him “I don’t care?”

Knock him into the—did he go to the future? He can’t get his thoughts in order, let alone summon memories from the future. Frankly, it doesn’t matter that much to him right now—he’s sore and wants to just fall asleep next to you.

He sits up slowly, grimacing as the pain in his head sharpens for a moment. Batman clasps his hand on his shoulder, holding him steady. “Can you stand?”

Hood grunts and pushes himself up, anchoring his weight against the ground. “Fuck. I’m going home.”

Batman says nothing to protest, instead joining Nightwing and pulling The Clock King up from the ground. Jason stumbles away towards his bike, thankful that he’s only a couple miles away from your apartment. Jesus, the future? You’re not going to believe that shit.

He climbs onto the bike with a groan, pushing up his sleeves as he prepares to start the bike. He doesn’t notice it until he revs it, but when he looks down at his left arm, he sees scribbled on his arm in sharpie:

WE’RE HAPPY

vote: do you have a favorite daughter?

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peachesofteal · 6 months

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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.”

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.”

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely.

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook?

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?”

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks.

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.”

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark.

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits.

Even the drinks are licentious.

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony.

Wouldn’t that be a sight.

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow.

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand.

“What is it?”

“Probably bourbon.”

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight.

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down.

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones.

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles.

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one.

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight.

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder.

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow.

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver.

“Like, the mafia?”

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry.

The 141.

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know.

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death.

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood.

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool.

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two.

Which way?

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard.

Is this the bathroom?

It must be.

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then-

rips.

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name.

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent.

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke.

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles.

He has a gun.

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly.

Obviously, you’re interrupting something.

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?”

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically.

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear.

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up.

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back.

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response.

“We are now.”

#ghoap x reader #peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader

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neverthatsirius-jo · 26 days

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august recs <3

trying a new format bc it's probably best to separate by character rather than piece of media and i wanted to yap a little. sue me.

— aaron hotchner.

needy & embarrassed by @lavenderspence

↳ flustered hotch and everyone making fun of him is so funny <3

untitled by @how2dream

↳ reader is me if i were ever to be in the presence of hotch. cute <3

— james potter.

the new hire by @mischievousmoony

↳ i haven't finished the whole series but i'm already loving it so much. james is writen so jamesly and the dialogues are so funny and i was just smiling the whole time <3

sweet night by @foodiegoogie

↳ read this if you play guitar!! read this if you play guitar!! also read if you don't because it was very sweet.

untitled by @luveline

↳ the confusion about muggle things had my face hurting from smiling so much. so cute <3

— spencer reid.

you're the risk, i'll take it by @gghostwriter

↳ i love these '# times that... and one that...' fics. pure fluff.

please don't say you love me by @nereidprinc3ss

↳ felt this one a little too hard. the writing is chef's kiss.

wicked by @reidmania

↳ short and fluffy. like a pancake <3

lava lamp by @nereidprinc3ss

↳ read this exactly the day i needed it. had me wishing spencer was real (more than usual).

falling behind by @catssluvr

↳ idiots in love trope has a special place in my heart. cute!! <3

curveball by @gghostwriter

↳ sweeeet.

camaraderie by @gghostwriter

↳ can anybody tell i was having a marathon of her fics? good. you should too.

one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter

↳ this one was everything to me. love fics where the whole team makes an appearance. 10000/10

never grow up by @parfaitblogs

↳ i was 100% not kidding when i said i cried. tears were shed.

guess by @parfaitblogs

↳ the dialogue!! the dialogue!!

risk by @parfaitblogs

↳ perfect.

back to fic recs list

#jo’s monthly recs ◡̈#spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #james potter x reader #fic recs

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rafey-baby · 10 days

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hidden 2

cw: hostage situation, outlaw!rafe getting injured and reluctantly letting pogue!reader clean him up, suggestive & him being sleazy

wc: 2k

hope u enjoy xx

part 1 & part 3

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

It’s past midnight and Rafe is driving over the speed-limit. He had said something about handling business and then more or less shoving her into the passenger seat of his truck before she even had the chance to open her mouth in objection.

The island sky is as dusky as the bottom of the ocean as he races through the soundless highway that reminds her of the yellow brick road; never-ending and with no certainty of what’s looming at the finish line.

She sits silently on the passenger seat because even if she was curious as to where exactly they were headed to, she’s well aware that he wouldn’t tell her if she asked.

Her heavy lids fall closed to the calming noise of the wind picking up outside the vehicle and she’s so exhausted she falls asleep within minutes. Therefore, she’s not sure how much time has passed before she’s jostled awake to him turning off the engine in an empty parking lot.

“Don’t even think about opening the door, alright?” A heavy warning lingers in his tone as he’s tucking his gun in the waistband of his pants and grabbing a thick wad of cash from the glove compartment.

She hums her acknowledgment and watches his actions; wandering eyes filled with questions. However, he merely offers her a brief glance and then he’s throwing open the door and disappearing into the eerily serene night; leaving her alone in the dimly lit space with her nervous inhales and exhales the only thing keeping her company.

She tries to peer through the window, squinting in order to see where he’s run off to but the faint glow of the street lamps provides little to no help, making her impatiently tap her nails against the center console as she waits for him to return. She presses her ear to the window but unfortunately no sounds other than the rustling of the leaves in the trees surrounding the area reach her eardrums.

She sighs.

What if something happens?

She knows that he doesn’t need for her to worry over him but she can’t help it. No matter how terrible of a person he is, she doesn’t wish for anything bad to happen to him. After all, she’s not a carefully programmed robot entirely void of human emotions, is she?

The mellow memory of him reluctantly trying to soothe her after her outburst the other day still lingers at the forefront of her mind and turns her initial thoughts regarding him into something softer. After all, she was certain he was going to kill her because she had threatened him with his gun. However, he merely seemed entertained by her stupid bravery, opting to mock her instead of showing a single ounce of actual fear.

And she doesn’t know why, but there’s this peculiar flutter in her tummy whenever her brain decides to mull over the moment of him wrapping his big arms around her shaky body in an almost gentle manner.

She wants to forget about it, ignore it and simply despise him for forcing her to help him, but she can’t. Can’t help the fact that even if she’s utterly terrified of him, there’s also something about him that almost fascinates her; lures her in and makes her want to figure him out and she’s not entirely sure what she’s supposed to think of that.

There’s something enticing about the way he’s such a polar opposite to her; not only is he a Kook but he’s also violent and hostile whereas she doesn’t even have the heart to kill a bug. His demeanor is aggressive and she thought that was all there was but then he goes on and practically hugs her when she’s a trembling mess with salty tears streaking her cheeks.

All of it confuses her to no end; disarranging her cerebrum and making foreign emotions bubble in her chest like molten lava. Or maybe she’s just touch-deprived; starving for whatever attention Rafe is suddenly offering her so generously.

She doesn’t necessarily want to think about any of it right now though; opting to stare out into the gloom of the night and forcing her mind somewhere else entirely when all at once, the driver’s side door slams open and her head snaps towards it; eyes startled and heart jumping in her chest at the instantaneous intrusion.

”Calm down, ‘s just me,” Rafe mutters, sounding out of breath; exhales harsh and chest rising and falling like a madman as he slumps down on the leather seat, eyes flitting over her tense form. “You seriously didn’t move?” He huffs out. “Such a good little puppy, huh?”

At that, she comes to the conclusion that she’s definitely craving a very specific type of attention when her thighs involuntarily press together at his twisted notion of praise.

”You— uh…you okay?” She cautiously asks, ignoring the warmth scattering along the apples of her cheeks.

”I’m fine,” he mumbles before starting the engine and speeding back out onto the road that’s still sound asleep; the pitch black sky beginning to fade into a darkened navy blue with the dim glimmer of the street lamps illuminating their journey.

She then gets a better look at him and notices a few cuts and bruises adorning his tired face. There’s a particularly deep scrape on his cheekbone; crimson transferring to the back of his hand when he mindlessly swipes over it.

”Rafe…you’re bleeding. What happened?” She exclaims, uneasiness coating her tone.

”Don’t worry, okay? Just had some, uh…disagreements. Should honestly see the other guy,” a lazy smirk paints over his face as he lets out a dry chuckle.

”Rafe, those could get infected or something. Do you want me to clean them up for you?”

”It’s just a few scratches, you’re acting as if I’m bleeding out,” he rolls his eyes, turning exasperated.

”I’m being serious, you can’t exactly go to the doctor if those actually end up getting infected, can you?” She argues with a pout. ”Shit, are all Pogues this fucking stubborn or just you? Told you, it’s fine,” he snaps in disdain, knuckles turning white from their grip on the steering wheel.

”It’s not fine, though. Can you just…can you just let me help you? It’ll take like ten minutes and then you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” she rakes a hand through her hair in frustration because in her opinion Rafe is the one being stubborn right now.

”I’m not worrying about it!” His gravelly voice thunders from his chest, making her flinch.

“Well, I am,” her tone is quiet now; slightly regretting bringing the topic up in the first place. At that, he lets out an irritated sigh and then he’s abruptly pulling over to a parking lot next to some gas station.

She turns to look at him with a surprised expression.

”Don’t have all day. Get the fucking first aid kit from the glove box,” he grumbles out a harsh demand.

”O— okay,” her face begins to light up in victory as she scurries to open the compartment in front of her, rummaging through it and trying to not pay attention to the plastic baggies filled with white powder or the wads of cash her hand comes in contact with.

At last, her tentative fingertips find the small red bag she was looking for. However, when she turns to face him again, he’s not initiating any sort of movement, simply spreading his legs out in front of him in his slouched position and peering down at her expectantly.

She hesitates.

”You’re not gonna…move?”

”If you wanna play nurse so fucking bad then you have no problem sitting on my lap, right? Not gonna reach all the way from there, are ya?” His tone is mocking and she can practically feel the cherry blush crawling up her face.

”Oh, right. Um— yeah. I’ll just…” She blinks and then she’s clumsily climbing over the console and awkwardly lowering down to stumble into his lap. He merely looks at her with a bored expression; annoyance swimming in the lagoons of his eyes as he glares at her, clearly bothered by the fact that he has to waste his precious time on something as trivial as this.

She huffs before timidly opening the first aid kit and trying to settle down on his lap. However, with his long legs sprawled out in the legroom he’s not exactly making it easy for her; being petty and difficult on purpose as she takes out a clean cotton pad and dampens it with some antiseptic spray.

”Can you just…” she trails off before gingerly taking ahold of his jaw and lifting his face in order to examine the injuries better.

He lets her freely maneuver his head as she pleases and despite the sting, not even flinching when she gently dabs over a smaller cut on his jaw. Merely letting his gaze flicker over her features; making her grow nervous under his curious eyes as she tries to concentrate on the vermilion spots on his face and not the way he’s soundlessly observing her.

Or the fact that she’s currently closer to him than she’s ever been before. Can feel the even breaths from his nose tickling the skin of her lower face when she leans down to get a better angle.

“So…you’re a drug dealer or?” She decides to try her luck, not being able to sweep the cocaine in the glove compartment under the rug so carelessly.

“What did I say about questions, Puppy?” He scolds her instead of answering.

“Right, sorry,” her eyes drop down. At least she tried.

She doesn’t say anything more, instead focuses all her attention on cleansing the scrapes and tries not to pay any mind to the fact that as an afterthought, this position is incredibly improper and she’s not entirely sure why she agreed to it so easily.

Upon careful consideration, she thinks she’s entirely too aware of his sturdy muscles underneath her and it’s turning her respiration more labored by each wipe over his face.

“Thinkin’ about going to Guadeloupe next week,” he utters out after several minutes of silence.

”You are?”

”Mhm. My family owns a house there,” his low-pitched tone is calm; almost relaxed.

”But, how are you—” her brows crease in a question.

”I have a private jet,” he states as if it should be obvious; he is a proud Kook, after all.

”Right. Of course you do,” she shakes her head when the corners of his mouth tug up.

”How long are you gonna stay there?” She asks as she lifts her hand to swipe the saturated cotton over the deeper wound on his cheekbone.

”Don’t know, ’til I figure something else out,” he shrugs.

She hums and then shuffles around in his lap some more, trying to wriggle upwards in order to not fall off. However, as she’s shifting into a more comfortable position, he suddenly lets out a low grunt from the back of his throat.

“Shit, Puppy. You really gotta move around so much?” He murmurs, promptly resting warm palms on her hips, halting her movements altogether.

“S— sorry,” her eyes round out when she can suddenly feel a slight bulge in his pants.

”If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re tryna get me hard on purpose, hm?” A breathy chuckle escapes his lips along with amusement glittering in blue gemstones as he inspects her flushed face with intrigue.

”Oh, no— I’m not…was just— trying not to fall,” her words are rushed; thoroughly embarrassed as she blinks repeatedly.

“Just, uh…stay still, yeah? Need me to steady you?” He rasps before strong arms are holding her upright by a firm grip on her waist.

”Thanks,” her voice is a muted whisper and she tries not to seem so affected as she gets a new cotton pad and begins to scrub off some of the dried scarlet from under his bottom lip; not daring to shift an inch after that.

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struwberrii · 3 months

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oikawa headcannons ˚⊱🪷⊰˚

i <3 tooru oikawa

begs you to come to practice with him (he always shows off when you’re there and iwa calls him out on it quick)

has a stupid embarrassing contact name for you (like pookie bear or something but he’s 100% serious about it)

whenever he finds out something like when he was analyzing the karasuno technique he comes to you so excited to tell you all about it

sassy man apocalypse final boss

he has the most complex skincare routine that his big sister introduced him to

he used to use his sisters perfume when he didn’t have cologne on him so he would jusy smell like champagne toast from bath and body works (his team also made fun of him for it)

always smells sweet (like bakery items)

his voice when he speaks spanish is like 3 octaves deeper than usual

secretly loves brat by charli xcx

wears his skincare headband with a bow on it around the house

one time he opened the door for iwa with it on and now that’s his contact picture on iwas phone

he has perfect handwriting

gets so mean on roblox, like he genuinely sees red when he’s arguing with little kids

studies in coffee shops and tries to look mysterious

is really good at solving rubix cubes and puzzles for some reason

randomly picks you up and carries you on his shoulder for no reason

like hell just be walking around talking to people and doing stuff with you on his shoulder

if you guys fight really bad he’ll say the most hurtful things with a smile on his face and then gaslight you later into thinking he never said that

candy crush veteran (he’s been playing since it came out he’s on a higher level than your grandma)

waits for golden hour and sets his phone up to take his selfies

his hair is actually so soft like it’s unreal

loves coming up behind you and hugging you and just staying there for a while

genuinely cries if you praise him

makes tiktok grwm videos

type of guy to go and get his eyebrows threaded

he builds the minecraft house while you go find iron (YOURE A MAN!!!! OFF TO THE MINES!!!)

there is not a single bad picture of him out there like even if he’s caught off guard he looks perfect

never breaks out or anything like always has perfect skin

he’s the biggest drama queen, like god forbid he gets a cold the world would literally end

he has my melody house slippers

he has a lava lamp in his room that he’s had for like 5 years

loves fruit, like strawberries are the key to his heart

buys you drinks from the vending machine if you come to practice

sings in the shower really loud

has like 5 pairs of converse

sleeps with every stuffed animal you’ve given him

secretly listens to megan the stallion when he’s working out

d1 complainer, hes always whining about something

someone just tell him everything’s gonna be ok

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s-4pphics · 9 months

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gift basket (e.w.)

kinda cont. to this :3 meep

wc;cw: 1.6k, return of pothead!ellie and her pothead gf, weed duh, parties, mention of psychs but no actual psychs lol, fluff… UNHEARD OF, flirting and a lil sexual tension, something quick bc i miss her fr

“you tryna do acid?” you call from ellie’s small dining table, rolling up for the two of you. ellie’s attention is yanked from her device, gawking from where she sits on the couch, decked in her usual party attire: all black everything from head to toe. “the fuck did you just say?”

“you tryna do acid?” you repeat, sealing the blunt. ellie’s eyes flick around the living room, jolting down to the blunt in your hand before they lock with yours.

“. . . why the fuck would i do that before a party?” ellie snorts, removing and tossing her reading glasses on the coffee table before returning back to some annoying show about a blue cat with bunny for a sister. neither of you are high yet and she’s already in hysterics, wildly cackling and shoveling parmesan goldfish in her mouth.

ellie. . . oh, ellie.

why won’t she fucking touch you?

after your intense smoke session on pothead christmas, your relationship has gotten strange. not strange in a bad way; she never hesitates to invite you over to spark up, pick you up for late night drives, have study sessions (where she watches you study with eyes tinted pink). everything is exactly the same, but you don’t want it to be.

it’s been a month since she smoked you out and rambled about her sex life, since you asked — begged her to kiss you. at this point, you would accept a fucking peck, for sucks sake! but she brushes you off every time, pushes you right back into that best friend box after every hot box. you’ve given her every sign to put it down on you, and she’s receptive. the stares she gives you, the lingering touches, the seemingly doting affection that shines beneath her pupils. it’s all there and. . . not at the same time.

but here you are again. igniting her fucking bud before you roll out to another frat house. being high and horny simultaneously is your greatest weakness. . . especially when your little crush looks this fucking good.

“you’re so far away.” ellie lures gently from the cushions, “c’meeere, i’m cold.”

“. . . it’s almost june.” you note flatly. she rolls her eyes and blows a raspberry, climbing over the back of the couch and sliding in next to you, eyes glued to your working hands. she pinches the blunt between her thumb and index finger. “it’s fat as fuck, jesus christ.” she mumbles in amazement. fucking geek.

“it’s yours. say thank you.” ellie gasps in delight and throws her arms around your neck, bending down to smack kisses on your cheek, mumbling thank you, thank you, thank you! you can’t hide your smile when you throw hers in your little baggie before shoving it in her front pocket. you pat it for good luck. “don’t crush them like you did last time. i’m gonna be hot,” you scold lightly and ellie smirks against your cheek.

“i dunno. you’re pretty hot already.” she purrs against your face. you push her away and she giggles, jogging to get her shoes on. you follow in her lead and lace up, praying to god that she doesn’t sit on the fucking bag in the uber.

ellie can’t stop staring at this fucking lava lamp.

it’s gorgeous, really. . . the bright colors, the holographic glitter, the fucking. . . clay balls. are they clay? they look like stress toys floating around in uncooked egg whites that've been injected with fairy vomit—

“ellie!”

she feels like she’s underwater, but not in a drowning, i’m-gonna-die way. she feels like a mermaid as she searches the room at your call, tunnel vision centering on every drunk face until she finds yours. you're actually right in front of where she sits on the love seat. . . right in front of someone else. . . who’s directly behind you. . . who the fuck is that?

your brows are pulled down in concern as you shout over the blaring music, asking her if she feels okay, if she wants to leave, but she’s not focused on none of that. . . her high is about to go left in a second if this bitch doesn’t stop squeezing your ass. ellie sends you an affirming look even though her blood is sizzling beneath her skin and you nod in acknowledgement, returning your attention back to whoever you’re throwing it on.

. . . would it be fucked up if she busted this lava lamp over this broad’s head? she doesn’t think so.

she barely registers it. the small display in front of her is nauseating. ellie’s known you forever, and never once have you accepted a rip from somebody you didn’t know. . . so why the fuck are you ripping from a bitch you don’t know? the end of the blunt sparks a bright orange with your heavy puff, the carbon you didn’t inhale ghosting in front of your mouth. smoke leaves through your nose as you giggle, the fucking. . . bum whispering something in your ear with a tight squeeze on your waist.

you’re shaking your head like you like it, like you’re approving of this fuckery and ellie almost vomits. she stands too quickly for her legs because she plops back down like an utter buffoon, the world spinning like a pinball. her arms extend as she searches for balance while sitting and—

whatever the fuck she was going to say vanishes when your hands come down on her shoulders, comfortingly squeezing them through her sweaty shirt. softly. ellie turns to mush as she tries to read your lips. . . maybe she shouldn’t do that; it looks like you’re saying don’t be gay. . . but ellie is gay and so are you so how the fuck would that work?

she’s being scooped up by you and. . . yeah, she’s very faded. ellie’s always prided herself in having a high tolerance to the dirty green, but she’s on one tonight. what the fuck did you put in that shit? is this why you asked her to do acid earlier? because you laced her shit? she can feel her palms getting clammy as you walk her down a dark ass hallway. . . if she had that lava lamp, maybe she could see—

a door slams shut and a lock clicks. it’s suddenly bright. ellie’s convinced she made it to heaven. . . especially when her vision focuses and she’s met with the angel that you are, eyes sparkly and twinkling like fairies in a meadow. god let her in the pearly gates. . .

“you okay, baby? needa throw up?” your hand is on her cheek, thumb gently massaging the skin. her heart’s singing. ellie’s entranced by you and her skin heats. . . her pussy also skips a beat. a little one-two.

“. . . baby’s okay.” she mumbles. why is her tongue so heavy? you coo at her, “wanna go home?”

ellie nods, “fuck that bitch you were grindin’ on. hope she breaks her neck. . . or somethin’ crazy, i dunno.” you choke on laughter and pull her in for a gentle hug. ellie’s heavy arms enclose around your waist. tightly. selfishly.

“you mad i wasn’t grinding on you?”

“duh! the fuck. . .” she slurs. “i should be grabbing ass, ‘s my. . . s’mine, fuck you.” you’re giggling into her neck and she shoves a hand in your back pocket.

“you needa bed.” you shake your head.

“yeah, so i can dig you out in it— “

“ELLIE— “

her laughter is uncontrollable, “yeeeah, you’re fucking mine. no more hoes for you.”

you’re burning hot when your eyes open. . . because there’s a fucking body on top of you!

you and ellie are slung across the couch cushions, party clothes still on. ellie must’ve been awake for a minute because she sighs, breath hitting your tummy, “did you try to kill me yesterday? be honest.”

“. . . bitch. . .”

“i’ve never been that high . . . well, that’s not true— “

“exactly.” you snicker, “how long you been up?”

she holds up her wrist to check her imaginary stopwatch, “approximately. . . three minutes and thirty-fi— six seconds— “

“i fuckin’ hate you. get the fuck off me.”

“hmm. . . nah, i’m good right here.”

ellie’s head shifts on your stomach and you know she’s staring up at you, “i needa fucking shower— “

“me, too. with me?” you hear the smile in her tone. you finally gawk down at her. “you’re never hitting my shit again. what’s up with you?”

her eyes crystallize when she shrugs, “had another dream about giving you head and now i gotta do it. follow your dreams, or whatever they say.”

your jaw is on the floor and your stomach is in knots. “ellie—“ you gasp.

“no, i’m not still high, and no i don’t wanna just fuck. kinda obsessed with you if last night wasn’t obvious.” she speaks so casually and it’s giving you whiplash. “i almost committed murder. that’s how pissed i was.”

“a-at me?”

ellie’s eyes roll, “oh my god, no. at whoever that freak was from last night. . . i don’t wanna talk about that shit anymore. i have trauma.”

her tongue rolls over her lips and she eyes you like a vulture to a carcass, “i dunno if you ever used that shower head when you sleep over but. . . it goes crazy.” her proposal makes you squirm and she smirks, planting a kiss on the skin of your belly. followed by another. . . and another a little lower.

“you my girl?” she whispers against your skin, staring up at you, tongue poking out just barely to swipe on the plush area.

“. . . maybe.” you mumble shyly, and ellie’s teeth beam. she sits up to stand and pulls you with her, guiding you out of the living room and down the hallway, into the bathroom. she snags her lighter off the counter and ignites her favorite cinnamon candle, the wick nearly gone. “for ambiance.” she whispers with a grin.

you unbuckle the belt looped in your jeans, “pulling out the big words, huh?”

“call me thesaurus the way i make that pussy talk.” she expects you to laugh, but you don’t. you almost grab your shit and leave. . . but her laughter sounds like wedding bells.

“just take your clothes off.” you say dryly.

SIKKKEEE COCKBLOCK SEASON MERRY NEW YEAR OR WHATEVER HAAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAA

#pothead!ellie #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams au #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #the last of us 2 #lesbian #works 𖧧࣪

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mysterycitrus · 7 months

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[a roy pov companion snippet to persephone part two]

There was a time, just after his father’s death, when Roy would fall into fits of choking suffocation.

His throat would close, his mouth turning itchy and hot and tight and he’d gasp and claw at his own flesh, desperate for air. Wheezing, bent over on all fours, struggling to breathe and desperate for relief, swallowing around that phantom smoke in his lungs that clung to him and refused to leave.

Brave Bow would find him in the dirt, press a calloused hand to his forehead and brush his hair from his eyes. He’d had the same hands as Roy’s father, then – steady from years fletching arrows.

Calm, boy, he’d say. The fire is gone, and you remain. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

It’d taken years before Roy felt it again, crouched with a needle in his arm and Oliver Queen’s shadow casting him in darkness. That same, encompassing squeeze that pushed his organs taut against his bones, stretched like taffy and drawing all air from his body. It’d been Dinah there with him, that time. Different callouses, with that same tender gentleness.

Then, Jade. Lian. Ollie. Donna. His comfort changed shape, and he learnt to drag himself out of the fire by himself, breathing around the fist in his mouth. The feeling became familiar, and so did the way it would leave him trembling and skittish. In and out. Inhale, exhale. You remain, and for that you must breathe.

Now, he’s sitting on a rooftop in Queens, and the smoke has returned to drown his best friend, because Dick Grayson believes there is evil in him. That all the good he’s done is poisonous. That he bears the burden of a grown man’s mistakes. Because – because Bruce Wayne couldn’t let one good fucking thing in the world lie.

He carries through the motions, watching himself from outside his own body as Dick thrashes, refuses to breathe until Donna physically compresses his lungs for him, forcing him to inhale. His heart is beating so fast it’s as if it’s not beating at all.

Never in his life has Roy wanted to kill someone more.

Donna is staring bullets into the side of his head as they descend into Dick’s apartment, holding him with a tight grip. Dick, younger Dick, seventeen-year-old hurt and miserable and alone Dick, stays silent but his eyes flutter like he’s about to pass out. The bruise on his face has only darkened in the hours since they left Jason Todd’s apartment, and the yellow spots on his cheekbone have started to purple. The bags beneath his eyes are deep.

How did I never notice he was like this? Roy thinks, half incredulous at himself. How did we let this happen that first time?

There was an answer, but it was for an older Dick who still carried all his cards to his chest. Would they be forgiven when that Dick found out what they knew about him? How they knew him now, better than they had before?

Garth, bless him, is holding a performatively casual pose as they gently push Dick through the open window. The soup is in a bowl – the slightly misshapen one that’d been Damian’s first try with a kiln – and Garth looks at him, then the soup, and pivots to start the kettle instead. What Dick really needs is solids, and maybe some protein, Roy knows, but the chances of him just throwing it back up again are high.

“Garth,” Roy says, and Garth turns those big, glistening eyes at him. It’s like staring into a lava lamp. “I’m sorry, but nobody wants any fucking soup.” Then he risks putting his hands on Dick’s shoulders – the kid doesn’t flinch, thank God – and says: “You, stay there. I need to go put my head in the shower.”

He presses down gently until Dick sits on the couch, carefully avoiding Donna’s gaze as she tries to catch his eye and rubs his hands over his face. Inhale, exhale. The smoke thickens, twists, chokes. Roy tilts a little but manages to regain his balance, and passes Donna as she goes to Garth, still fretting in the kitchen. Trusting, finally, that Dick wasn’t going to bolt right this second, he walks out towards the bathroom and immediately collides with Wally.

Wally’s still buzzing a little, and the hairs on Roy’s arms stand on end as he’s zapped when Wally grabs his elbows to hold him upright. There’s a deep line between his eyebrows, but when he looks up over Roy’s shoulders at Dick, his face goes slack. This worked out, actually. It’d keep help keep them both occupied to talk out their feelings, until Roy could get back in control of himself.

“Easy, fleetfeet,” Roy says. “Babysit for a second, would you? I need to wash my face.”

“I thought we decided we didn’t want him to run,” Wally hisses back, but Roy just gives him a shove in the couch’s general direction and staggers down the hall.

He hears Wally move forward as he manages to kick the door shut, falling against it as he starts to gasp. Roy presses his head back against the tiles, squeezing his eyes shut and desperately inhaling in through his nose and out his mouth. His throat itches. A throbbing pain starts at his temple, beating with his heart and radiating to his jaw and neck and shoulders until he tenses into a spasm.

In, out. Breathe, hold, release. Roy manages to swallow, but the noise he makes sounds like a sob, and he fumbles with the faucet until he can trust that the water is drowning him out. Again, and he claps a hand over his mouth. Everything feels ready to snap.

He got through it that first time, says a voice in his head. It sounds a lot like Connor’s patient grace. Remember? He’s still here, just the same.

But this is so much worse, Roy replies internally. Can’t you see? Because now he knows it’s not gonna end. It’ll never end.

No. This is too much.

The first time he grabs at his phone, it falls from his trembling fingers and lands on the floor with a crack. It takes him one, two more tries to retrieve it, and instead of standing he folds himself onto the floor, sat pressed against the wall next to the basin. The blue light makes his eyes sting and seeing Lian smiling back just makes that rolling nausea return, thinking of a young Dick Grayson stare at his daughter in wonder. Eight years old, like Dick’s own father hadn’t fallen when Dick was that age. Like Dick had lost a father all over again a decade later. It hurts so bad.

Thankfully, when he swipes through his speed dial, she answers.

“You’re late with an update, boyo.”

For a moment, he can’t even get the words out, just audibly breathes into the receiver with his eyes shut and his free hand twisted into his hair.

“Roy? What happened? Is Dick alright?”

He has to swallow around the lump in his throat again.

“Is Lian there?” Roy manages to get out in a croak. He truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if Mia’s taken her to MOMA or something. Maybe permanently move into Dick’s bathroom. “She free to talk?”

“Sure.” He hears Dinah move and begin to walk. She’s calm, but her steps are quick and loud down the line. “Give me an answer, Roy. If you want to talk to her because you’re bleeding out-“

“No, no,” Roy says. “No, it’s just – it’s been a long day.”

It’s only about twelve pm, but Dinah doesn’t comment on it. He hears a door open, then shut. His heartrate picks up again.

“Dinah,” he says, and he hears her stop. “Dinah.”

She knows, clearly.

“He’s seventeen, Dinah.”

“Yeah, Babs said.” A pause. “Seventeen, huh?”

“He’s…” Roy stops, tugs at his hair a little. “I can’t tell you –he’s been saying-”

“You were all kids. You know that right? The stuff you were doing wasn’t normal, in retrospect. Makes sense he’d freak you out.”

But it’s not just that. It was the casual acceptance of baiting Deathstroke. Dick’s conviction of his own fault about losing Robin. His terror of confronting Bruce. The profound, absolute loss of everything. Dick Grayson lost his father at eight years old.

Roy can’t reply to that, really, so Dinah says:

“Here she is.”

There’s a shuffle, another pause, then –

“Daddy?”

The tension leaves his body so fast he almost drops the phone entirely, and his legs properly unfold into a sprawl.

“Hey, princess.”

“You okay?” Her voice raises in pitch slightly, like when she’s getting nervous. He’d put a lot of effort into stopping her from sounding like that, so it’s jarring now. “Dinah said… Dinah said-“

“I’m fine. Really. I just wanted to check that Mia wasn’t buying you more Legos from the giftshop with my card.”

“They were mermaid Legos,” Lian tells him, worry gone entirely and now a little huffy. “And Mia said – Mia said you were a landlord. And could buy them.”

“Daddy is not a gazillionaire like Batman.”

“Does Batman have Legos in the Batcave?”

Batman has bloodied memorabilia of all the people he’s let down, Roy thinks privately, but says instead:

“No, but he has a dinosaur.”

“A real one?”

“No. It’s like the one’s out of Jurassic Park. A robot dinosaur.”

“A robot dinosaur,” Lian says rapturously. “Can we visit sometime? With Uncle Dick?”

I am never letting either of you near him ever again, is the correct answer, as much as Dick would throw a fit over it. Roy clears his throat, rubs at his eyes, and changes the subject.

“Maybe. But I want a school update. I didn’t get to talk to you about it, yesterday.”

“Well,” she stops, and he can hear her think it over. “I’m better at spelling than Cassidy, because she always forgets her ayches. But I taught her a trick for it. I can teach you too!”

My best friend was only eight, he thinks.

“Yeah, baby,” he says in a hoarse voice, and tilts back his head. “Tell me all about it.”

#this is an unedited snippet from september 2023 so plz no one judge me #roy harper #dick grayson #nightwing #arsenal #donna troy #teen titans #lian harper #persephone tag #fic #batman #dc comics #mart #roy harper is very dear TO ME!!!!!!!!!!

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mauesartetc · 1 year

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Redesigning Helluva Beelzebub

Hoo boy, roll up the sleeves for this one.

The Original

In my review of Helluva Boss 108, I mentioned that Beelzebub's character design put me in mind of how some DeviantArt kid's fursona might look. And... Yeah I stand by that statement. The most likely reason I can figure Viv Medrano wanted her to be dog-like was to make a reference to her Die Young music video, which featured an anthro wolf singing a Kesha song (for context, Kesha herself voiced Beelzebub and co-wrote a song for this episode).

But for those who are unaware, Beelzebub's traditional depiction looks nothing like this.

Really the only visual similarities the Helluva version shares with the Infernal Dictionary version are the insect wings, six limbs, and the crown thingy over the head. (At least I think that's a crown-? Kinda hard to tell on both counts.)

Bee's eyes get somewhat more insectoid later in the episode, but that feels like a cop-out. Wow, her eyes and colors changed. Totally a bug demon, right?

They had the same problem in Hazbin Hotel with Katie Killjoy, who's allegedly supposed to be a praying mantis but barely resembles one, even after her transformation.

I understand the desire for fresh takes on old figures, and taking creative liberties so the new interpretation doesn't feel generic. But the changes should at least make sense. By now it's pretty clear Viv couldn't care less about representing Ars Goetia demons faithfully, as demonstrated with Paimon, Andrealphus, and now Beelzebub. You could slap completely different names on these characters and it wouldn't change a thing. I posted this meme a while back but it's never been more relevant:

On top of that, what reason could there possibly be for the design to be this damn complex? Why did she need so many markings on her face? Why did she need so many layers of hair? Why did she need flowing goo for her hair, tail, and body, each requiring dedicated effects animation?

When it comes to a hand-drawn production, less is more. Any superfluous details on a character just make unnecessary work for the animators.

Anyway, here's what Viv has to say about it.

Alright, I'll admit: The lava lamp bit is a little clever. Basically it works as a regular stomach does, but on demonic steroids. But it wouldn't look so much like Viv's making this up as she goes if we'd seen Bee's stomach performing its intended function in the episode. Let her chow down on a giant piece of food (maybe that cotton candy she's been handing out-?) and swallow it, and let Loona (and the audience) see it dissolving in her transparent belly. As a general rule, if it's not shown or explained in the work itself, it's not canon. Like I've said before, Viv: Elaborate on the nuances in the story you're telling, not on social media.

Also, "Her ears are designed after beehives"? Wh...Wha? Ma'am have you ever seen a beehive.

(Hell, even if you told me the ears were inspired by the generic cartoon beehive we're all familiar with, I wouldn't have guessed. There's a difference between being subtle and being vague.)

I can kinda see it in the overall shape, but that's a very specific design inspiration that wasn't clear at all in the design itself. Same with the "animal trainer" thing: I never would have picked up on that if Viv hadn't pointed it out. If a character design doesn't visually convey all the necessary information, it's not a successful design. Show, don't tell. There's a communication breakdown between what Viv's telling us and what Bee's design shows us.

(It's possible she actually meant "Her ears are designed after honeycombs", but even then, each compartment has a specific pentagonal shape that's not coming across at all here.)

I also find it interesting that Bee and Loona have almost the exact same body type. Of course Viv's pretty infamous for samebody syndrome, but it's actually unnerving how similar these two are.

Might this be a reference to Vortex's "type"? Is this foreshadowing a relationship with Loona? Am I overthinking this? Yeah, probably. Viv's demonstrated a clear preference for tall, skinny body types over the years, so it's safer to assume that's the explanation. It's all aesthetics. It ain't that deep. Occam's Razor and all that.

Finally, Bee how the hell does your shirt work.

The Concept

So at this point it seems most logical to lean into the "bee" thing for the redesign, and scrap all the canine elements. As for the blobby hair and tail... yeeeah let's nix those too. We're going for a streamlined version that's easier to animate. And because I ignored the ringmaster look for my redesign of Asmodeus, it only makes sense to do the same for Bee's animal trainer vibe (what little there is) for the sake of consistency. I know this version of Hell has a circus theme with its highest-ranking demons, but there's never been an in-universe explanation for why that is.

Let's look at actual bees, then. A quick peek at Google has informed me that certain insect species have smaller, "simple" eyes (also known as ocelli), in addition to their compound eyes. In bees, this manifests as a triangular grouping of three beady eyes on top of the head.

In her Helluva Boss episode, Bee's full demon form has three eyes, which could be a reference to this triangular arrangement, plus her regular form has two spots on her forehead in addition to the third eye. So it's possible Viv actually did research for something. Pleasantly surprised on that front.

Next, the body. I've noticed that some folks find Bee's skinny body type refreshing, as the sin of gluttony is too often personified with fatness. And that's fair. That's valid. But consider this:

Imagine any Vivziepop character saying that about a chubby person. Imagine the series sending the message that fat people can be sexy too, and that they have worth outside of their appearance, enough for at least one character to consider them girlfriend material. That they're valued and appreciated regardless of this culture's beauty standards (which we know nothing about since the worldbuilding is as thin and flimsy as tissue paper, but whatever). Imagine if this show finally had a fat female character who wasn't relegated to the background. Don't know about y'all, but that would be refreshing to me. And when you take into account all the fat-shaming of a character who isn't even fat, portraying a fat character as attractive would be a nice change of pace for this show.

Now let's talk about clothing. In the episode, Bee's clothes show off a lot of her body, with a cutout crop top and short shorts. We can take a similar approach for the redesign (something that still shows off her chest, belly, and limbs, in keeping with the extroverted "party girl" persona), but that perhaps includes more queenly elements.

The Redesign

Because this is a redesign, many elements were already in place, but I still had to figure out how this character would look as a bee. Here's where the preliminary sketches came in. Lots of trial and error in this process.

Wrestling with this character's face got a lot easier once I realized I could mold it into a pentagonal shape akin to a honeycomb compartment. It took a few tries, but at last, I had a final sketch.

All that was left to do was test out some color combinations.

I tried a few different approaches, but in the end, this is the version I felt worked best.

I used many of the colors from the original, but pushed the orange much harder since orange is the symbolic color of gluttony as a sin. And overall it gives Bee a nice honey-ish look rather than the generic black and yellow we already see on so many bees in cartoons. I thought the colored outlines on her clothing would add a soft, feminine touch, as well.

And just for kicks, here's a quick sketch of her giant form, inspired by the Infernal Dictionary drawing of Beelzebub.

Conclusion

The canon version of this character exists in the form she does for no reason than to stroke her creator's ego. "Hey guys, remember when I animated that Kesha fan video? Remember how cool that was? Wanna see me foist this unnecessarily-complex character design on other animators while I take a victory lap?" I wouldn't mind so much if Viv animated any of this herself, but she didn't. I could almost excuse this if she had no animation experience and didn't know how much work it requires, but she does. The self-aggrandizing entitlement is just off the charts. But a nonsensical design is leagues better than a stolen one, so... brownie points for that, I guess.

#character design #redesign #helluva boss #helluva critical #helluva beelzebub #vivziepop critical #body positivity #long post

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completeoveranalysis · 6 months

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[3]

OOH YES Fai and Kurogane are on edge now! While it was fun before and they were happy to flirt in the face of it all, now Lava Lamp is in extreme danger and They’re Not Enjoying That. Fai is now visibly (stressed? Upset? furious?) while he fights, and Kurogane is actually calling out his attack names again. And from that first panel we can see that they’re trying to get to him. They’re trying to save him from Syaoran now, so the endless clones are much more of a problem than they were even before.

OOP!

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT EXPRESSION ON KUROGANE BEFORE?

THE FUN LEVELS ARE PLUMMETING EVEN FURTHER

I UH

A STAB?

Clamp really said You’re going to get stabbed in the chest and it’s going to be gorgeous.

#Things I did not think would happen:#Lava Lamp would lose the fight in a chapter or less #And then get STABBED DRAMATICALLY ACROSS THREE PAGES #WITH AN ARTFUL TINT TO HIDE JUST HOW GRUESOME IT IS #The Big Clamp Epic Finale never holds back #I mean yikes #Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 208 #Fai #Kurogane #Syaoran #Lava Lamp Guy #Syaoran vs Syaoran #I was just talking about ides of march did that manifest here #am I just confusing myself #I blame Caesar for this

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ramblingoak · 3 months

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Naps With Copia

Nap #13: A Comforting Nap

*contains spoilers for Rite Here Rite Now*

For @littlemissemeritus who wanted a comforting nap with Copia after the events of the movie.

Copia x Reader

These are all stand alone chapters so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft Copia naps.

Warnings: mentions of death of a loved one, a little sad but also hopeful, sfw, 700 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

It was here, in the quiet of his old room, where Copia could be himself.

He didn’t have to hide his emotions and act like everything was alright. He didn’t have to try to prove himself to anyone. He wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for someone to point out something he was doing wrong. In here, in the room with the lumpy mattress and the lava lamp, he didn’t have to be Frater Imperator.

In here he was just Copia.

It had been two months since Sister Imperator’s death and his subsequent promotion. Copia was now leading the clergy, a job that he had been working towards for years. It should have been a time of celebration for him but how could you celebrate something that went hand in hand with the death of your mother? He had worked so hard to get to this point but you could see how even though he deserved his new title it was weighing heavily upon him.

The screen of his small television had been flashing ‘game over’ for some time now but Copia hadn’t moved. He was sitting still, his shoulders hunched forward and the controller dangling loosely from his hand. You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, whispering an apology when he startled at the contact.

“Copia? Do you want to keep playing?”

“Huh? Ah, yeah. Yeah, let me start again.”

Despite his words he remained still, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared down at the floor. You rubbed his shoulder absently, sliding your hand across the red fabric of his hoodie until you reached his neck. Copia shivered at the touch of your fingertips dancing across his nape and you smiled when his eyes fluttered closed.

“How about a neck massage, Papa?” You realized your mistake as soon as you had said it, watching his face fall at the mention of his old title. “I’m sorry! Old habits. Forgive me, Frater.”

He turned his head towards you and you felt tears gathering in your eyes when you saw the look in his. A combination of exhaustion, sadness and regret, three things you never wanted him to have to experience. You lowered your head to rest your chin on his shoulder, smiling when you felt his lips on your forehead.

“Can you do me a favor, amore?” He kissed you again when you nodded your head. “Can I just be Copia in here?”

A few tears fell down your cheeks and you sniffled while you nodded again. He reached his free hand up to wipe them away before sliding a finger under your chin so he could tilt your head up. Copia kissed you then, gently but possessively. When he pulled away you cupped his cheek, keeping his face close and resting your foreheads together.

“You’ll always be Copia to me.”

“Bene, bene.” He kissed you again, this one quick and fierce just like the ones you’d get between songs when you hung out backstage. “Amore, can we give Miss Daisy a rest for the day? I had something else in mind.”

A few months ago you would have groaned and rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what he would suggest you both do next. But you knew that wasn’t what he would be seeking right now. You both had craved a different type of intimacy since he had become Frater Imperator. He gave you a grateful smile as you scooted back on his bed, adjusting his blankets and making room for him to lay down next to you.

It didn’t take him long to get comfortable, one leg pushed in between yours and an arm slung over your waist. His face was next to yours on the pillow, his breathing already slowing down despite the fact that his eyes remained open. You couldn’t look away from that mismatched gaze of his, so thankful that he felt comfortable enough with you to let his guard down like this. To leave whatever title he held at the door so he could just be Copia with you because at the end of the day that’s the only person you wanted.

Just Copia.

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#rite here rite now spoilers #ghovie spoilers #copia x reader #copia fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #naps with copia #frater imperator

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bewareofthenewphannie · 5 months

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So let me summarise, they want us to believe that...

Phil asked dan to buy him things for his background all the way back in 2016. that means dan ordered these things during tatinof. in that context it makes perfect sense for dan to forget about already having bought a present because they arguably had a lot going on.

Dan got him the lamps, plus a deer candle, which phil mentions in a video back in January 2017 (this is relevant, I promise).

He then tweeted about the hippo lamp in February, presumably because he thought it's nice/funny and wanted to show people but didn't want to mention that dan had bought it for him for...reasons.

A few months later they moved with all the lamps (and never showed the dino and lava lamp) and a few years later in 2019 phil finally used the deer candle, along with the dinosaur lamp (and the lava lamp?) for the new AP set in the 2nd London apartment.

Which he planned on doing since 2016? (He doesn't mention where he got the candle from but he does pretend to order the lamps. On that topic I'll redirect you to the tags on this post.)

OR they lied yesterday. Which is at least as plausible as this because they do have a track record of getting their own past wrong.

#okay hear me out it's not that likely but it does make sense imo #phan #dan and phil #misty says things #lampgate #< stealing this tag from jenna because I think it's funny

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sl-newsie · 3 months

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Melted Mind (Dr. Spencer Reid x OC Coworker)

Summary: The team checks into a hotel and one of their coworkers has never used a sauna, leading to late night shenanigans. (Hinting at intimacy towards the end)

“You’ve never used a sauna?”

I’ve had a lot of strange and unusual conversations with the BAU but this has got to be a very random one. I guess one half-mention of never having used a sauna seems to be the hot topic of tonight.

I shake my head at Emily’s question. “Never had a reason to. I can’t stand being too hot.”

Of course now Spencer has to hop in and give his input. “Saunas actually help us sweat toxins out of our bodies and improve lymphatic drainage. They also reduce stress levels and help strengthen the immune system.”

I love him dearly but he can come in at the worst times. Just because he’s my boyfriend does not mean he can drag me into this too.

Meanwhile Emily is looking at the hotel’s brochure. “There’s one in the pool room. We should try it.”

Um, no. We’ve just spent three hours flying. I feel no need to sit in a boiling hot room with my coworkers.

Quick, grab the suitcase and start walking away. “I think I’m going to relax in my room-”

Morgan grabs my arm. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

In the corner of my eye I see JJ and Penelope waving goodbye with cheeky smiles. Hotch has already gone to his room and Rossi avoids the situation by heading for the bar. There’s no getting out of this.

There’s no other way to say it. This is Hell. I won’t sugarcoat it.

I don’t care how Emily tries to sell this as a good thing because it’s a ‘steam sauna.’ Spencer’s facts from earlier have completely flown the coop because thinking about the positive health benefits of sweating is the last thing on my mind. All I can think of is drinking water and staying alive.

“I’m melting.” We’ve been here for half an hour and I’m already slumped in the corner.

“You look like a lava lamp."

My glare can burn through walls. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“That swimsuit is really cute,” Emily comments. “But why wear a shirt over it?”

The suit I packed is my patriotic one. A one-piece suit with blue and white stars at the top cascading into red and white stripes. When we met up in the hall I threw on a swim shirt and I guess that raised a few eyebrows. Why? I don’t know.

“Some call it image paranoia, I call it modesty. I will not walk around half-naked in a hotel lobby.” Technically my onepiece could count as a leotard but it’s still not modest.

Emily snickers. “Between you and Reid both you guys could give a lecture on social etiquette.”

“I’m giving a lecture?”

Reid pokes his head in and a wave of cold air washes over me. It’s Heaven! But it’s only a split second because he closes the door and I’m submerged in the moist prison once more. He hops up on the seat next to me and from the look he gives me I can tell he’s looking to see if I’m still alive. I think I am. Maybe.

“Here’s the boy genius!” Morgan claps and gestures to my limp body’s presentation of a corpse. “What do you think of this lovely swimsuit?”

Why? Why did Morgan of all people have to find out about us? I’m honestly surprised Penelope didn’t find out first. If only Spencer didn’t want a picture of me on his desk so badly. Ever since we became official he’s been much more manly about it. Like he wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his. It’s actually cute.

Spencer gives me a look-over. “Very patriotic. It looks nice.”

Those eyes say more than that. He loves it.

“Thank you. I’m lucky I brought it with me. Though this may be what I’m buried in if I don’t make it through tonight. This sauna’s going to be the death of me.”

So the night goes on. My mind dwindles in and out of the conversation but the only thing keeping me awake is Spencer’s occasional squeeze on my shoulder. Though him rubbing my back is definitely not helping. After a while my mind starts to wander.

“Ever notice how radio stations play the same songs over and over?”

The chatter stops and in the corner of my glazed eye I see everyone look at me.

“That’s kinda deep,” Morgan teases.

“I can’t help it. This sauna’s making me think deep.”

Emily waves a hand in front of me. “Ok, I think it’s time to call it a night. You need to drink some water. Make sure she gets to bed safely, Reid.”

Reid gives me a hidden smirk. He’s definitely thinking about that out of context. Thankfully the others are too tired to notice and we all slowly exit the human vegetable steamer from Hell.

“I’ll go get you a towel,” Reid says before walking off.

I’ll finally get to go to my room, rinse off and relax- Uh-oh. I catch a quick glance out the window. A pair of blue sunglasses lies on a patio lawn chair. No one’s outside. I guess I should do the Girl Scout routine of returning them to the lobby desk.

Brr! How is the air outside so cold? The sauna must have really gotten to me. Back inside now- Oh no. Is it my wandering mind or am I locked out? No. No! I don’t have a key card!

Inside Spencer walks around the pool looking for me. The towel he’s carrying might as well be a fur coat.

“Oh- Spencer! Help!” I knock on the glass door. “Please! I’m locked out!”

Reid’s eyes widen and he strides over. “How did you get stuck out there?”

“Someone left their sunglasses out here and I didn’t think about needing a key card to get back inside. Could you let me in?”

He starts reaching for the door but then gets an amused smirk. “Hmm. I don’t know…”

Is he kidding? “Spencer! Please! It’s freezing out here!”

Reid checks the thermostat. “It’s only 65 degrees.”

“I just came out of a sauna! Do you want me to pass out?” I put my hands on my hips.

Spencer’s laughter is muffled by the glass but he turns the doorknob anyway. “Open sesame.”

I sigh in relief at the warm air. “Thank you- oh!”

My temperature spikes the instant Spencer’s lips are on mine. He backs me against the cold condensation-covered door and pulls me close to him. I hope no one’s looking!

“It was hard not to do that in front of the team, seeing you in this suit.” Spencer presses a kiss on my cheek. “It looks very nice.”

If I weren’t so exhausted I’d encourage this. “Ready to go to bed? I’m getting tired.”

“Me too.” Reid wraps the towel around my shaking shoulders and we start walking back. “Would you like me to rub your back?”

“I’d love that very much, Spencer.”

The sight of our hotel room is equivalent to scoring an A+. I speed-wash through the shower and all but dive onto the soft bed. I lift my sleepy head up to look at Spencer, who’s sitting in the lounge chair staring at me.

“What?”

“You know my attraction to you didn’t start from your body,” he murmurs, still looking at me as if examining a piece of art.

I smile shyly and look down. “It was my eyes.”

He walks over and kneels down to my level. “It was your eyes. Those eyes that show a deep wisdom but are always wide with excited curiosity.”

Spencer crawls up onto the bed and rests his head on my chest. “Still tired? I can feel your heart rate elevating-”

“Let me pause the lecture, professor.” I put a finger to his lips. “It’s time to sleep. You can resume tomorrow.”

He sighs but gives in to his own tired state by going limp. I’m too tired to push him off.

“You were right, Spencer. Saunas really do reduce stress levels. Even if I was almost locked out.”

He smiles with his eyes closed and feels around for the bedside light switch. “Goodnight, angel.”

The room goes dark and I give him one last kiss. “Goodnight, genius.”

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princessbrunette · 5 months

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the readers bedrooms ♡

puppy!reader

her bedroom looks something like this. very girly in the delicate way where you can tell she hasn’t really done much redecoration from when she was a little girl. a little bit less neat than these pictures, and always has crumbs in her bed that john b has to dust off before he gets in— muttering something along the lines of “how do these even get in here, pup?”

has a lot of random stuff that doesn’t go with the aesthetic of her room just from finding them at yard sales / thrift stores and was unable to part with them like ratty teddy bears and lava lamps that she sometimes sits infront of and stares at for ages and loses track of time completely. lots and lots of polaroids of her with her loved ones hung up. pics of her w the pogues, fav family members, john b, a random polaroid of rafe with his thumbs up and no one even knows when she took it or why or why rafe looks so friendly it’s honestly a mystery

kitty!reader

always a little on the messier side. bed is haphazardly made for when jj comes over (as if he cares) and she has a clothing rail that’s always overflowing with outfit choices and shoes. lots of posters and random trinkets. definitely has a knife or something stuck in the wall from a fit of rage and now uses it to hang up underwear or jewellery. a pair of handcuffs on her wall just for decoration.

her bed has to be veryyy soft and comfortable because she is so sleepy and will sleep all day if you let her. this being said, she spends a lot of time on the floor too. whether jj is finding her curled up napping on the carpet when he comes over, or she’s wanting to play fight with him on the rug and eventually end up holding him close and riding him when the bed is right there.

bunny!reader

very very organised for all her fashion / self care related items. she may be ditsy but she has a very specific way she likes all her girly stuff to be organised so she knows exactly where to find it when she’s getting ready. the only times she really gets cross with rafe and starts thumping her foot about is when he comes over and curiously starts looking through her stuff and ruining her whole system.

her bedroom is literally a pink princess palace, honestly took rafe a while to get used to all the pink — and he can never hide where he is in pictures etc because everyone knows your iconic bedroom from your instagram!

deer!reader

getting her own post because there’s a lot of stuff to her bedroom and i want to go through it all <3

#divider by v6que #bunny!reader #puppy!reader #kitty!reader

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z3rinn · 1 year

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# #. GROCERY STORE !! pt. 2

a part 2 to my grocery store post !! This time it contains scarabia - diasomania ! ahem- going grocery shopping is usually a mundane task, boring and usual. that is until the twst boys want to join you in your outing. you just hoped nothing would go wrong this time… for once…

Sorry this took so long to get out !! I hope you all enjoy !! ♡

# #. KALIM AL-ASIM

Going grocery shopping with Kailm is definitely an experience. Its basically like bringing a kid to a candy store. He is ogling at everything around him. That's when you realize he's probably never even been to a grocery store-

By the way he's running around and pointing at everything- putting as many things in the cart as possible- (which you would not be able to pay for) you would like to place him in the baby seat of the cart, but alas he can't fit. So you just settle for placing him in the cart instead. Its at times like this you can imagine where Jamil is coming from. But its ok because he's a cutie patootie and i love him w all my heart- Oh! And just know that he finds the ride absolutely delightful.

Kalim tries to take turns with you when riding the cart, pushing you around the store while laughing happily. He walks into aisles youve never even seen before, showing off weird things that are fascinating to the both of you. Like that self washing cup! Or those lava lamps that costs well over 5000 thamarks !! But he could easily pay for them. You never thought grocery shopping could be so fun- and so you can't help but smile back at his amusement, joining along as the two of you ran around target.

9/10 it's a little overwhelming at first, yet going with him just makes you happy beyond words. Plus he pays!

# #. JAMIL VIPER

Jamil is obviously one of the best people to go grocery shopping with. He's a food expert, and he knows exactly what to get and do while there. Plus, he is most likely tagging along with you to get some things for the Scarabian kitchens.

As I said, Jamil's a food expert, and he knows just what to buy and get while out. Like I said in my previous post, Ruggie knows how to haggle with grocery store managers- and I think Jamil does too. He knows what products are the best, yet are also the cheapest, it's not like he's paying with Kalim's money. (Although he did offer to give you his card!) Jamil is also the type to not get distracted while out, so whenever you try to but something you definitely don't need, he'll snap you back in place.

While out with him make sure not to buy any frozen food, as it'll make him think your prefer that over his fresh and healthier food. And he'll give you a judging look due to it. Oh! And he's gonna cling to you the entire time. This is one of the only moments he'll be able to hang out with you without having to worry about any of his duties and Kalim. So don't question it if he holds on to you or if he's pressed up against you the entire time.

10/10, I'd go with him any day of the week. It doesn't even have to be to the grocery store smh.

# #. VIL SCHOENHEIT

Vil is taking you to some fancy ass grocery store. Like whole foods or sprouts, maybe even the mall. Or whatever the twst equivalent is. As if he'll you just go to some random grocery store- And with him- it's not gonna be all fun and games -_-

He immediately takes you to the veggie and fruits section, piling on good enough amounts of spinach, broccoli, tomatoes. He also buys fruit for his homeade smoothies, those will make your skin glow for days afterwards. It's annoying- you just want your chips- but you cant because of the preservatives. You just want some cookies. Yet you cant. Honestly you were this close to just falling to the floor and crying your heart out like a frenchman. "I JUST WANT MY JUNK FOOD" Shopping with him just seems like a chore instead of something fun tbh.

He's right in front of the cart, dropping only the necessities into it. You were this close to running him over the cart if he slapped your hand one more time for trying to reach out to the chips. He gives you a glare, and tries to resist your puppy eyes. With a click of his tounge he eventually does calm down, dropping a bag of Cheshire Chips into the cart. He might allow it if you come over to Pomefiore to do some face masks with him.

5/10. It's like going shopping with a mom or like a weight trainer or smth. You understand why he's doing this of course- But theres no funny business with him. Zero. Sigh. Well he pays at least. I LOVE HIM I SWEAR-

# #. ROOK HUNT

When Rook notices you walking out of the broken down building you were staying in, from the tree right above your house, he obviously offered to accompany you on your endeavor! Even when you told him you were just going to the grocery store a part of him just couldn't help but be overjoyed. Oh how he just loved being out with you!

Rook is notorious for loving the smallest of details- the simplest things in life. So going to a grocery store and seeing all the beautiful people surrounding him- along with the gorgeous displays of food made his heart practically smile. You watch as he holds an apple in his hands, raising it up to the sky with a glorious smile on his face. (You're this close to just walking away-) He's humming in joy as he recites a poem of the luscious, juicy, red apple to you. Very fun !!

Meanwhile- when Rook is not being a hopeless romantic for apples, the huntsman is all fun and games !! He's straight up singing in the store, admiring anything and everything. He watches as you shop for groceries, a smile on his face. Rook lets you sit in the cart whenever you get tired, pushing you across the store while humming to himself lightly. Just don't say you're getting tired while going back. He'll carry you all the way back.

8/10- he's a bit over bearing at times. But its Rook so like what can you say about it? I love Rook yall.

# #. EPEL FELMIER

Epel is tagging along for two very important reasons! Firstly, his family has branched out to stores all across twisted wonderland- and he obviously has to make sure the quality and presentation were absolutely perfect! Secondly, he gets to hang out with you!

Epel makes his way to the fruits aisle first, dragging you along with a bright smile. His excitement is slowly seeping into you, causing you to laugh yourself. The two of you make your way to the fruits section, the both of you gawking and jumping up and down happily. After that little moment its basically a normal shopping spree. He has experience in going out to the grocery store with his family- so he helps out with practically everything!

He tries to show off as much as he can. He'll help out with the water packets, and baskets carrying them if your hands get tired. He will jump up to grab the snacks you need- that might be too high for you reach. Speaking of snacks - Being out with you lets Epel get junk food and snacks that Vil would NEVER allow- so maybe the two of you can sneak them in the middle of the night.

10/10 !! One of the best to go with! He doesn't bother you whatsover and is very helpful. Guys I love Epel so much KDHDVFTSSKS

# #. IDIA SHROUD

Uhhh- your more likely going to a electronics store- and then maybe stopping at the grocery store on the way back. There's NO way Idia would ever go out to a grocery store on his own. Especially if Doordash exists. But if you stop by an electronics store first, and you need a handsome firey head boy to show you around the store. How could he ever refuse??

He felt like a prince, leading you through his castle while showing off all his prized possessions. While in reality he was just walking through Best Buy or something, and was being an unemployed clerk. He probably pays for your electronics- or maybe he says he'll just make them for you! His designs are 100 times better obviously. However on your way out, he doesn't expect you to point out the whole foods or twst version is across the street.

He basically just sticks to you like a shadow while out. The poor dormleader can't help but be scared that people are gonna judge him for being blue all over. That is until you tell him this was your little shojou moment. Walking out in a supermarket together, inspecting what brand of eggs or milk you should get. It's the whole package! Well obviously now he can't complain. But now he might be just a bit too excited to be here.

6/10 Honestly if you needed groceries that badly you could've just asked him to order from online. Doordash is sooo much easier that doing it the plain (and scary) way.

# #. ORTHO SHROUD

Ortho probably tagged along to experience the "real" life. He's seen families on TV before- and he can't help but crave that domestic lifestyle. So when you ask if he wants to tag along- how could he ever refuse?

He's buzzing with excitement! Hovering around the grocery store with stars in his eyes. Usually he orders groceries from the comfort of his brother's dorm- it's a lot easier that way- but going outside is just so fun !! Ortho might even switch to his P.E form, as it'll make it easier for him to walk around the store like you! Although, he does want to try riding in the cart, it's something that everyone wants at least once in their lives- so how could you say no?

He's very helpful too, it's common courtesy since you took him out in the first place. He's able to reach high places and doesn't have trouble carrying the heavy things. Another plus is if your shy (like his brother) he's able to scan the store and find whatever you're looking for- without asking any employees for help! Sweetie pie fr.

10/10. He's one of the best to go with! Plus no complaints here (like his older brother)

# #. MALLEUS DRACONIA

Malleus? Why does he go??? He just wants to hang out with you. And maybe see how human grocery stores are nowadays. But its mainly the first one. Perhaps when the two of you are out on one of your nightly walks- you suddenly remember that, "Oh no! You forgot to get groceries!!" And now you have to take a menacing dragon man out with you.

Like others, Malleus tags along behind you, inspecting the many products and items in the aisles. He asks questions about products he finds interesting, he'll inspect all the different kinds of fruits (dragon fruits especially), and he'll find different products to try out. He'll always ask you for help too, asking if something is good enough to get. Like that tamagotchi in the corner !! He should get a bunch of friends for Roaring Drago...

He's so oblivious and confused it's kind of funny. Just imagine being a little kid and seeing a giant- like a literal GIANT- standing in the ice cream aisle inspecting the icecream sandwiches. Kinda silly ngl. Wait- what this- your phone is buzzing now? Who? Sebek? Wondering where Waka-sama is? Uh oh.

7/10! It's like going out w a kid whose never been to the outside world- but in a fun way. It would be higher if he told Lilia or Sebek he was tagging along tho... hopefully you don't go deaf from sebek yelling !

# #. LILIA VANROUGE

Did you bring him along? No! Of course not! Should you have noticed he was trailing behind you? Yes! But you didn't because he's an old fae that has experience? Right again! Does that excuse you? No. Obviously not. It's a rule by almost everyone in the dorm. Never bring Lilia grocery shopping. But your dumbass still did.

Well as long as he didn't feed you the food it was fine- right? So you'll let him tag along i guess. Lilia is the type to sit in the cart as you drag him around the store, and he only really gets out when he needs something. You guys probably stop by the spices aisle like 10 times- you feel bad for those in diasomania who are eating that mush. He tells you about the stores in Briar Valley and how he would take silver out when he was but a boy.

It's nice to listen to him as he drops another (that's 15) box of noodles into your hands- again, you feel bad for the people who are going to eat this. You guys probably bulk up on food while there- I mean it's totally not like Lilia has a butt load of money from being an old ass general right? And of course hes not gonna spoil you because your the best right? Yeah of course nottt. Just be careful at the end of your trip. As compensation for taking him with you he might offer to make you something.... and it might be a bit rude to say no....

9/10 ! It's nice listening to him talk- but uhm like many before this- you won't make it through his ...amazing... cooking skills.

# #. SILVER

Silver had spent most of his life living with fae and not many humans. Briar Valley doesnt have many grocery stores- instead being filled with various farmer markets and merchant's. Meaning he'd never been to a grocery store!! So obviously you had to invite him.

Silver is straight up just following you. He's wandering silently like a little cat, trailing from behind. He's looking around with a hint of curiosity. The store was very different from Sam’s- bigger and more luminous. It had a certain vibe to it. He liked it though, it was oddly comforting. Silver usually sticks to himself, but you can tell when something is confusing him. Take the dragon fruit for example, when he saw it a slight chuckle escaped his lips. It looked so different compared to the dragons and longs he’d met before. You couldn't help but laugh yourself- It’s fun watching him experience something new.

Silver is a very reliable man, if you ever need any help he won’t hesitate to jump in. He will help with the cart, the heavy groceries, the water jugs that weigh a mountain load. As you all know- Silver gets tired (and omg he's so pretty thats not fair) and wont hestiate to fall alseep on you if he ever gets tired. So easy solution: just put him in the cart and bury him in food. It’s easier to drag him that way. (instead of him sprawling on top of you)

10/10. Love him. I love HIM. HIIIMMMM. I LOVVVEEEEE HIM. RAAAAAAHHHH-

# #. SEBEK ZIGVOLT

There's no way in wonderland Sebek would ever go with you! He has duties to attend to! He has a beautiful, mystical, enchanting prince to protect!! Malleus was of the upmost importance, why would he ever go with a dumb human like you? You didnt matter compared to his leige-- Lilia is making him accompany you.

At first Sebek will grumble to himself, upset he couldn't stay with the majestic Malleus. Yet he soon remembers (you reminded him) that Lilia was the one to tell him to accompany you. So he immediately assumes this is a type of training for him !! Oh and now he's bragging that he got to join you on this trip instead of Silver- oh boy-

Like others, Sebek will help. Uhm. But like- loudly. As he carries the bags he will ask if you notice how strong and capable he is, a smirk on his face. And then he goes on a rant about Malleus. Whenever you need something you can't reach he will help, with a "human" comment on the tip of his tounge. And then he goes on about Malleus. It's kind of funny though not gonna lie- seeking a giant man boasting while getting groceries of all things. Very fun!

3/10. But a nine in my heart. He's so silly. Anyway. GRAAAHHH- I WANNA PULL HIS HAIR OUT (in a loving way !!)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #silver #sebek zigvolt

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