#YEAH I KNOW THIS WAS THREE WEEKS AGO BUT THEN I HAD THE SERVER EVENT AND I GOT BSUY

[cata-strophes]

and this, my friends, is everything that i’d imagined it to be

[mo0n-water]

hello hello, sorry that it’s been so long :( i’ve missed you.

i will hear the song if it’s the last thing i do 🥸 what’s it called? what’s the first lyric?

what book is it? why is it your favourite? summarise it in three words?

i hope you allow yourself to be a child sometimes. growing up so quickly must be tough.

nostalgia is my hamartia, i’m very stuck in the past, whether it is good or bad. also my great aunt has the most beautiful house, i’d love to live there when i’m older but it’ll probably go to the other side of the family. we can hope :)

i don’t really have any definitive life goals. i’m more of a live and let live kind of person, what’ll happen will happen and i shan’t waste time fretting about it. but i would like to own lots of cats when i’m older and have the village i live in suspect me of being a witch. i think that’d be fun.

i love people who talk a lot and are passionate about things they are interested in. there is nothing i enjoy more than listening to someone ramble on about a historical event i’ve never heard of or a movie i’ll never see. my best friend is very much a talkative person and i think that’s why we get on so well.

how many people can come to my party? i would probably invite: my two best friends, david bowie, regulus black, frida kahlo, oscar wilde, amy winehouse, boris pavlikovsky (from the goldfinch), my great great uncle who’s existance no one knew about until a few weeks ago (he had a very interesting life) and you :) i think we’d all have some very interesting conversations.

my favourite quote is ‘i don’t know. poets are always taking the weather so personally. they’re always sticking their emotions in things that have no emotions.’ from the catcher in the rye.

questions for you:

- what are you doing right now?

- are you religious?

- how do you define art?

- do you want to get married? would you marry a friend in a non-romantic way?

- what’s your favourite smell?

- what would you name this chapter of your life?

- are you a responsible person?

- what’s your favourite punctuation mark and why?

HAHA HI!!! i missed you too!! i was telling the jegulily server about how i missed you…… then again, idk who you are, so maybe you saw that. (mysterious music.) anyway i hope you’re well & i mean… didn’t you say you were going to see harry yesterday? so you MUST BE well

re: your song… it’s called counting hours. you’re not gonna find it online but maybe i’ll send it to you if/when you tell me who you are. (not holding it hostage, i just don’t wanna post it publicly hahaha!! first line is “spent the early hours of june reading quotes from whitman” i guess you don’t know what that has to do with you, but the rest of the song is… a little more obvious xx

the book is looking for alaska! i think i mentioned it before. i like how it explores grief and unanswerable questions, as well as how it talks about growing up. for three words, i don’t know, i’d maybe say “famous last words” :)

you definitely seem like the type of person one would mistake for a witch. and believe me, that is the highest of compliments coming from me. and about nostalgia, YEAH. yeah. G-d yeah. i feel like nostalgia rules my life sometimes, but i don’t really mind that? i was talking with my dad about that recently, about trying to recreate old memories & bring the past back. i think there’s something beautiful about that.

i like the live & let live philosophy. i think it makes for an interesting life. my favorite kinds of people are the ones who aren’t afraid to do something unexpected, to seek out new opportunities & go on adventures. a change of plans is my favorite thing. have you always been like that, or is your decision to embrace that a new thing? (i am ignoring your use of the word shan’t, lest i make a fool out of myself in my own tumblr post…)

listening to people ramble is a secret favorite of mine. i have a friend who’s really into films, & i love to get him ranting about his favorite plot lines & all that cinematography stuff that i don’t understand. i don’t even like movies! but i like listening to him talk about them. what’s something you like to ramble about like that?

i like your quote & i like your dinner party. i question how wise it is to invite boris, given he’d probably derail the whole thing… but i suppose that’s the whole point, and what makes it fun. consider this my rsvp! i think regulus, bowie, & boris would either be best friends or sexy rivals. can’t decide, but i’m here for it. also, your great great uncle?? i would love to hear the story there.

right now, i’m sitting on a porch swing & thinking about you. the temperature is perfect out here, humid enough to feel like a hug without descending into something more like a chokehold. i keep getting distracted & staring at the daylilies across the road. i was sitting in the living room before, but my parents were talking so i stepped out here to focus on writing this. after, i think i’ll play guitar for a bit – i was working on something earlier that i’d like to continue.

yes, i am religious! i’m a religious jew, which i think i’ve probably mentioned before because i honestly don’t shut up about it. it’s shabbat today, & i actually just got back from an event at synagogue. it was a pride event more than a religious thing, though – i convinced the rabbi to go out in drag, which was fucking brilliant honestly. anyway, judaism is easily one of the most important things to me. how about you? i always worry it’s rude to ask but i love talking about faith.

okay i had a conversation about defining art a few months ago & it just about broke my brain… genuinely it was in like january but i still don’t have an answer, no matter how much i think about it. i kinda think art is an arbitrary categorization we use to fit human expression into a box, but my opinion there could be changed with a strong wind. help????

i’d definitely like to get married someday, but it’s not a goal i’m working towards or anything… obviously, i think. i’d definitely marry a friend. it all comes down to whether it’s the right person. (if this is an offer, my answer is yes xx)

my favorite smell is rotting wood.

i’d name this chapter of my life “the wandering” because i feel like i’m looking for something, but i’m not sure what it is & i’m not in any rush. taking my time! it feels a lot like wandering.

responsible??? me???????? i suppose it depends on what you mean by responsible. in some regards, sure. in others, not at all. i don’t like the idea of responsibility, though, it feels stifling – i’d rather dedicate myself to things out of love than out of any sense of responsibility. not sure if that makes sense or answers your question.

i like semicolons!! as my best friend can surely tell you… i just feel like they conceptualize my ceaseless need for elaboration. i’m wary of overusing them. but yeah i learned how to use a semicolon in elementary school & i’ve been terrorizing people with them ever since.

as always, i love the questions you pick! some from me:

- what grounds you?

- what’s a feeling you find overwhelming? how do you cope?

- what’s your relationship with music? what does it mean to you, how do you interact with it?

- favorite fruit?

- tell me a secret?

hope to see you in my inbox soon!! kind regards <3

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 1

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Words: ~2200 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to any kind of emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*. 

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

~~~~~~

You met Billy Russo at an industry conference two years ago. While you didn’t know much about military security at that time, your specialty was online security and both of you ended up attending a lot of the same events. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, magnetic and a total flirt, and it was obvious he was aware of his good looks and used it to his benefit. You didn’t sleep with him during the conference. Something told you his dance card was already full every night. So, instead, you exchanged contact information and left it at that.

 A year later you were hired as a consultant for one of Anvil’s direct competitors and moved to New York City. When Billy called you to meet for drinks, you knew exactly what he was up to. You were no fool. He wanted information on your employer and thought he could charm you into spilling secrets. You told him it wouldn’t work over a second drink, and he simply laughed.

 You didn’t fuck him until a month later. The official reason for the delay was conflicting schedules but mostly it was due to insecurity on your part. To the outside world you were attractive in the kind of way that snuck up on people. You weren’t the type to turn heads, like Billy was, and your fucked up childhood had ensured you didn’t let anyone in easily. It wasn’t until a pep talk from your best friend, Davina, about enjoying Billy Russo for what he was – a fun time and nothing more - did you finally decide to take the leap.

 Fucking Billy had been unlike anything you’d experienced before. You’d had sex before of course, but not the kind of sex that made you lose all of your inhibitions and scream and come for hours. Billy knew how to coax you out of your shell and demand things from him you’d never even knew you wanted. You fucked him in your apartment, his penthouse, the underground parking lot, in his car and that was all within the first week. He had opened up a whole new world for you and you were willing to try anything and do anything he wanted. After that first night together, all the walls you’d built around your heart collapsed. Your best friend warned you repeatedly that great sex made people confuse lust for love, that she was worried you were falling for Billy, but you told her you were an adult and could handle yourself.

 Of course that had been bullshit.

 It had been been almost a year now since you and Billy were sleeping together and you had no idea where you stood with him. You didn’t even know if he was fucking other women, though a part of you suspected he was. If he was with you two nights a week that left five other nights to be with someone else. It clawed at you, knowing you weren’t enough for him. It heightened all of your insecurities, made you believe that you were worthless and ugly just like your abusive father used to scream at you. Of course you’d never tell Billy that. The minute he suspected you were getting attached to him emotionally he’d bolt, he’d already warned you of that. So you kept your thoughts to yourself and let your pain eat away at your insides when he wasn’t with you.

 At least that had been the plan until you saw him on a date with Madani.

 You were at a restaurant with some of your coworkers, enjoying happy hour, when you got up to use the bathroom and spotted Billy sitting in the other corner of the room. The breath rushed out of your lungs, your knees felt weak. They were enraptured with each other, legs intertwined, heads close, a true couple. You knew who she was because he’d let it slip he’d been working with Homeland on something and, you being you, you’d looked her up. Her pictures didn’t do her justice, because she was stunning. And exactly the type of woman Billy would be proud to be seen with.

 After you and Billy started sleeping together, Billy rarely took you out. Sure you guys would go to some hole-in-the-wall places or fast food joints but never to fine restaurants, not like this one. You never complained because why waste time when you could be busy fucking his brains out? Except now that you saw him and Madani sitting only a few feet away from you, and he was proudly holding her hand and being openly affectionate, you realized it had all been by design. He never took you out because he was ashamed of you. If you had been prettier, thinner, sexier, taller – anything but what you already are – he’d want you as more than a fuck buddy. He’d want you as his girlfriend.

 It was a bitter pill to swallow but at least now you knew the truth and that meant you were back in control of your life.

 As much as it hurt, it felt good to know you were the ones making decisions about your future again and they didn’t revolve around Billy. No longer would you be obsessing over what he wanted, what he was doing, if he’d like a certain thing on you or not, if he was fucking someone else or not. You wouldn’t spend hours researching Billy like you did in the past and finding out things about him that he never knew you knew. No, now you were finally free.

 And it was time to move on.

 Tonight was the night of the fundraising gala. Your company had purchased a table and the CEO of your company had personally extended an invite for you to attend. Based on a conversation you had with Billy three weeks ago, you knew he would also be attending to represent Anvil. When you’d first broached the subject you’d hoped he’d asked you to attend as his date – but he hadn’t. At the time you’d reassured herself the reasons were practical. It would be weird for Billy to be sitting at a competitor’s table (if he went with you) and you would risk offending your boss if you sat at Billy’s. But now you knew the truth.

 So, tonight, you were dressed to the nines in a curve-hugging gold dress with a plunging neckline which emphasized all of your assets. Your heels, which cost more than the dress itself, were over five inches high and made you feel like an Amazonian goddess when you sauntered in them.

 When you walked into the ballroom with Davina in your arms that night, you felt confident in a way you hadn’t in a long time.

 The thing about you that a lot of people didn’t know was that you were fucking fantastic at owning a room – despite your insecurities. You may not be beautiful but you were charming. You were really great at getting strangers to open up, people were drawn to you. It was one of the reasons your CEO promoted you so quickly after a few months. Your job, initially at least, was meant to be a technical role but when you were invited to a party with potential clients you had schmoozed them so easily they had signed the contract within the week. And then you had impressed them with your actual technical skills which only cemented their positive impression of you.

 So, yeah, you were in your element and you were ready to charm.

 “What table are we?” Davina asked.

 “14,” you said. Of course your eyes were automatically drawn to Anvil’s table on the seating chart. 157. A safe distance from your table, which meant there was a good chance you two wouldn’t even be crossing paths in the grand ballroom. You didn’t know whether to be overjoyed or disappointed.

 A while later you were circulating around the north bar, chatting up with some potential clients that your boss had wanted you to pay particular attention to when you saw Dinah Madani. She was in one of those slinky, maroon satin dresses, her hair up, and you felt that surge of jealousy go through you again. She was probably here as Billy’s guest considering this wasn’t the kind of events Homeland agents typically attended.

 “Y/N!” You turned to find your boss waving you towards him.

 Glad for the distraction, you picked up two glasses of champagne from a nearby server and headed towards him, handing him his drink. Your boss was chatting to a group of people you vaguely recognized, but the smile on your face stiffened when you spotted Billy amongst them.

 Fuck. He looked good in a tux. His hair was slicked back, and you were struck with the sharp memory of fucking him in his car one night with your fingers roughly fisting his hair. God, you loved his hair, loved running your fingers through the silky strands.

 Billy’s eyebrow quirked up when he saw you and you wondered what he thought of you so dressed up. No. It didn’t matter what he thought of you. Fuck him, you reminded yourself.

 “Y/N is our new Executive Director,” your boss said, introducing you to the group. “Her division has shown a significant growth ever since she joined Valiant.”

 You smiled, shaking hands with everyone. When it was Billy’s turn, you reached out to clasp his hand, not betraying any emotion even though you felt an immediate charge upon touching him. He gave you an amused smile, like he was enjoying the charade.

 “Nice to meet you all,” you said. “And don’t listen to Roger. Valiant was doing fine on its own.”

 “But Y/N has definitely changed the way we do some of our regular operations. I didn’t realize how archaic this industry’s systems and processes were until she came along.”

 “Sounds like I may need to poach Y/N from Valiant,” Billy said with a smug smile, his eyes fixed on you.

 “Anvil couldn’t afford me,” you reciprocated with equal smugness.

 Roger laughed, patting your arm. “We’re not giving her up without a fight.”

 “Clearly,” Billy replied.

 The expression on Billy’s face was new to you, you had no idea what he was thinking but you also didn’t want to waste any more of your time obsessing over him.

 Roger leaned in closer, lowering his voice so others wouldn’t hear him. “Table 35. Those were the clients I told you about.” As you glanced over to the table he mentioned, your eyes met Billy’s. He was watching you intently, still with the unreadable mask on his face.

 Ignoring Billy, you flashed a confident smile up at Roger. “Don’t worry about it. It’s taken care of.”

 You turned back to the group, your gaze skipping past Billy’s. “It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope you have a great evening.” Bidding everyone goodbye, you headed to Table 35.

 ***

An hour later you were on the terrace, enjoying the cold, crisp New York air that rattled your bone. You were exhausted. Networking took a lot out of you and now you just wanted to go home and soak in the tub. Davina, a natural extrovert, was still in the ballroom, flirting and socializing but you needed a few minutes of privacy so you had snuck outside to compose yourself.

 “Congratulations on the promotion.”

 Your jaw clenched as soon as you heard Billy’s voice from behind you. You turned around to look at him as he swaggered forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

 “You never told me,” he remarked.

 You shrugged your shoulders. “We didn’t tell each other a lot of things.”

 “I get the distinct feeling you’re pissed at me but I don’t know why. Care to fill me in?”

 “What reason would I have to be pissed at you?”

 “You tell me. I’ve called you-”

 “You’ve never called me,” you interjected.

 “Fine. Texted. Whatever.” Billy took a step closer, forcing you to look up at him. Even in your fucking stilettos, he towered over you. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks now. Why the ghosting?”

 “I just think it’s time I move on.”

 Oh, Billy didn’t like that. His eyes grew darker, so dark they were almost pitch-black. “Really? You’ve got the next one lined up already?”

 As much as you wanted to believe he was jealous, you knew that wasn’t the case. “We both know you don’t give a fuck about me so drop the fake jealousy bit.” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. You felt his angry breath skim over your skin as he glared down at you. “Let me go, Billy.”

 “Why?” he snarled. “So you can go fuck Roger?”

 “You really expect me to believe you’re jealous of me seeing someone else?” you snapped back. “Or is it because it’s Roger? He’s more successful than you, he’s your competitor, his company has been taking all the contracts you’ve been fighting for and now he’s got you beat in the one area you thought you excelled at. Fucking.” You angled forward on purpose, holding his gaze. “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you go fuck Roger and leave me out of it?” You smiled up at him. “Or does Madani not let you stray?”

 Understanding dawned on Billy’s face. “So that’s what this is about.”

Part Two

A/N - This is my first reader insert fic. Hope you guys enjoyed it. If you’d like me to tag you, please leave a comment or DM me.  

If you created this GIF, please let me know so I can give proper credit :)

[quinncupine]

Hi if you’re comfortable with Writing MIDORIYA has a crush a on reader and all might notice so he help them get together

Hello! I'm so sorry this took a while to get to. I took another writing break but im back to write this request! It is a bit cheesy, I'm not really sure how to write All Might but I wanted to take a crack at it so I hope you enjoy this silly piece!

Quinns Masterlist

Wanna request something?

Matchmaker

Word Count: 3,400

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

"Sorry I'm late," Izuku slid into the chair, a bit out of breath from running the whole way to the restaurant. "There was a small incident I had to take care of."

"No worries, I've only been here a few minutes myself." Yagi gave his pupil a warm smile. "I hope everything was resolved?"

"Oh yeah, it was just a purse snatcher. Nothing big." He waved it off, grabbing the water in front of him.

The café was a nice little hole in the wall Izuku had found a few weeks ago. It was hardly ever busy, even during the lunch rush hour, so it was easy to stop by to grab a quick bite. When he mentioned it to Yagi, it sort of turned into their informal weekly get-together spot. With Izuku's hero career on the rise, he was finding himself busier and busier every day, which meant he couldn't see his mentor as often. So he always looked forward to their lunch dates.

"Back again?" your bright voice said between them. "You fellas are like clockwork."

Izuku, mid-sip, turned to you and nearly choked on his water. They'd been coming here for three weeks now and for the third week in a row, you'd been their server. Maybe it was the way you smiled at him or maybe it was the way you always snuck quick glances at him from across the room, but Izuku's brain always seemed to turn off around you.

He didn’t even realize he'd spilled his water until you pulled a towel from your apron to wipe up the puddle on the table. Izuku stammered out an apology as he looked up at you, cheeks tinged cherry red at his fumble, but you only smiled in return.

"It looks like you could use a minute, I'll go get another water for you." And with that, you took the soaked towel and half-empty cup, disappearing from his tunnel vision.

"You alright?" Yagi tried to keep his serious face on, but he couldn't help the twinkle in his eyes because he was right. Now he just needed his plan to go off smoothly. The only problem; Izuku was anything but smooth.

"Uh…yeah," he said, inspecting his wet shirt. "Sorry, I don't know what happened."

The young pro glanced around the small café. It was pretty empty, which wasn't all the unusual. The few patrons the place did have were scattered about and none seemed to have noticed his little blunder.

"Don't sweat it my boy, it happens." The retired hero checked his cell before pocketing the device. "It's going to be a beautiful weekend, do you have plans?"

"I've picked up a few extra shifts on Saturday for Oxman."

Izuku didn't bother with the menu, he always ordered the same thing. Instead, he tried to dab the water out of the soaked fabric, completely oblivious to you approaching the table for the second time.

"You picked up more shifts? For Saturday?" This was throwing a wrench into Yagi's plans. "Don't you think you should take a break? You've been overworking yourself lately and-"

"I've got fresh water for-" Izuku flinched and before you could even finish the sentence, his arm knocked the glass out of your hand, spilling the contents on the table in a mini waterfall.

Both men jumped up as water cascaded over all four sides. This time, it did catch the attention of the other customers. All eyes on them, Izuku flushed, profusely apologizing for the mess as he grabbed as many napkins as he could.

"Calm down, It's alright," you laughed it off, picking up the dripping menus. "I'll just move you to another table. No worries."

The thought of staying any longer after he so thoroughly embarrassed himself, especially in front of you, was torture. No, he had to get out of here before he messed anything else up.

"I'm sorry, uh, I'm, I have to- uh, I have to go," was all he managed to say before he darted from the building at lightning speed.

Yagi sighed and pulled his phone out, typing furiously. He'd expected a few kinks, but this was quickly going south. No, he could salvage this still. He just needed to adjust his plan. Oxman's sector usually ran through Kinro Park. That could work.

"Sorry about the mess," Yagi sighed, crossing his arms.

"It's fine, but is he alright?" You couldn't help but stare out the door that Izuku bolted from.

"The life of a hero." He turned to you. "He's been working so much and unfortunately he'll miss the festivities on Saturday."

"What festivities?" You cocked your head, focusing on him.

"Oh, you didn't hear?" He smiled. Yes, this could work. 

Saturday came all too quickly and Izuku found himself in Kinro Park, a large expanse of land that many people flocked to during warm days such as this one. It had everything: ponds, trails, bridges, forests, etc. The park was crowded today with all sorts of people trying to enjoy the nice weather.

An hour into patrol and the only things he'd done so far was catching a stray balloon from floating away and retrieving some phones people had dropped in a few ponds. Not very exciting, but it was nice to have a few days where he didn't have to fight super-powered villains. Small things like these were also part of being a hero.

When he wasn't saving phones from drowning, he thought back on the events that happened earlier that week. Replaying the disaster at the café over and over in his head. How could he possibly go back now? Especially when he acted like a bull in a china shop around you. He was a pro hero for goodness sake, nothing should be able to beat him, yet there you were, taking him down with a single disarmingly cute smile. What was wrong with him?

Lost in thought, he hadn't realized he had walked down one of the smaller trails that lead towards an even smaller grove where a couple of picnic tables were scattered about the grassy area. This trail was a lesser-known path that lead into the heart of the forest, but hardly anyone ever came here simply because the dirt path was so obscure and overgrown, most didn't bother. He was about to turn back when he heard a crack and a startled yelp.

Without a second of hesitation, he kicked it into high gear, racing into the grove to see someone hanging off a branch, halfway up a large oak tree. The mostly broken-off branch they were hanging on was too thin to support anyone's weight so it was only a matter of time before it completely gave way. When the branch finally snapped, Izuku was there, catching them bridle style, midair with ease. What he was not expecting was to come face to face with you: hair ruffled, eyes wide, and a tight grip around his neck.

"Deku!" you whispered a bit breathless. "Thanks."

You knew his name. Sure he was a hero on the rise, but he wasn't a top pro yet and in his opinion, no one very recognizable. Baffled by the recognition, he could only stare and stumble slightly when he landed.

"Deku?" you said again, cocking your head slightly as he still kept a solid grip on you once you were back on the ground. "Are you alright?"

That broke him out of his trance. "I think I should be asking you that." Setting you on your feet, he stepped back to give you some space, even as he wished he could stay closer. "Are you alright?"

Inspecting yourself for injuries, you shrugged with a lopsided smile. "Well, I'm still in one piece thanks to you."

"If you don't mind me asking, um, what were you climbing the tree for anyway?"

Snapping your fingers and turning to the tree again, you pointed near the top. "My bag. I don't know how but I set it down on the table and I turned my back for like one second and suddenly it's all the way up there. All my stuff is in there, I can't get home without it." You sighed and turned to him. "And of course, the day I decide to come all the way out here for this festival, I get lost and now my bag is stuck in a tree."

"What festival?" Izuku had been all over this park and he'd heard no talk of a festival happening today.

"All Might told me about it." You looked shyly at Deku. "He said you'd be too busy working to go so he gave me one of his tickets, but those directions were so confusing and I wound up here."

Izuku definitely didn't remember plans to go to any festival with Yagi this week. Although, there was an event happening in the park next week to showcase a new play in the newly refurbished amphitheater. Yagi had been given tickets and he invited Izuku as his plus one. But he would hardly call that a festival and besides, that was next week.

"The tickets in my bag. Maybe you can make sense of those directions?" You perked up, pointing to the swaying bag high up in the tree. "Also, my only way home is in there, so I kinda need it back."

"Right, I'll get it, hold on," he said and easily made the tall leap to swipe the bag off the branch. When he landed, he handed it to you with a nervous smile. "Safe and sound."

"Thank you Deku, really," you said, brushing off a few stray leaves, "I know it was probably stupid to climb the tree, but I am glad you got here when you did. You really saved me there."

"I'm glad I could help." There was a slight linger in the shared gaze before he broke it off shuffling his boots. It was like his body suddenly had no idea what to do around you. "Um, did you say All Might gave you tickets?"

There was a spark in your eyes at the name. "Well, I know you're probably used to it, but when All Might offered them to me, how could I say no? It's All Might!" Even in retirement, All Might was still just as popular.

The fact that you seemed so giddy about it all only made Izuku's heart beat faster. You were excited by heroes just like he was, or rather, still is. But this time, in your eyes, he was one of those heroes.

After digging through your bag, you produced the small ticket and showed it to Izuku. "The map is on the back, but I can't really make sense of it. It almost looks like it was drawn from memory or something. The festival looks like it should be here in this grove, but obviously, that can't be right."

Izuku inspected the ticket. It seemed normal enough, but after a close examination, he could see a small second layer on top of the paper. A quick scratch at it revealed a sticker that when peeled back, showed the actual ticket for the theatre event next week. Just what was Yagi trying to do?

"What is that?" you grabbed the ticket, peeling the rest of the sticker off. "It's a fake? Why would All Might give me a fake ticket?" This time you looked to Izuku for the answer, but he was just as confused as you.

"It's a real ticket, just not to the right event." Izuku crossed his arms. "I don't know why he would do that."

"Great," you sighed, slinging the bag over your shoulder. "Well, I guess there's no reason to stay here. Thanks again Deku, you know, for saving me and all."

He rubbed the back of his head with a lopsided smile. "Anytime. I need to get back to patrol, but if you decide to climb anymore trees anytime soon, I'll be around."

That got a hearty laugh from you and you lightly pushed his shoulder as you walked past him. "Careful hotshot, you're giving me ideas." That got a small blush from the hero. "And if you decide you're hungry again, I'll be at the café." With a wink, you readjusted your bag and headed towards the trail.

Izuku stood there, at a loss for words as you stepped onto the path. What was he supposed to do now? Did you seriously want him back at the café after the catastrophe he left you with last time? A thousand thoughts zipped through his mind so fast he had to remind himself to breathe.

Another startled yelp brought him out of the whirlpool of thoughts he was drowning in and he looked up. There, blocking your exit, was a small drone with a blue glow fading in and out on the top. It was a familiar design he would recognize anywhere: Mei Hatsume. Why one of her drones was out in the middle of the forest was anyone's guess.

"Target locked." A mechanical voice rang out from the small device.

"Uh, is this thing yours?" you asked, slowly backing away from it.

"Engaging enemy," the voice said before two prongs jutted out the front, each sparking with electricity.

Izuku moved so fast you didn't even realize he'd put himself between you and the drone until green filled your vision, his hand rested reassuringly on your arm. Your focus quickly left the drone and turned to his face, or what you could see of it. Jaw locked, eyes narrowed, and a warm hand melting into your skin. This was the closest you'd been to the pro and despite the seemingly dangerous threat in front of you, you didn't feel in danger. Not with Izuku around.

"Whoops, my bad!" Yagi popped his head out from behind the bushes to your right, holding a large remote in his hand. "I'm so sorry about that!" He said, messing with the full panel of buttons. It seemed like overkill for such a small drone, but if this really was Mei's then that would actually make a lot of sense. Yagi didn't seem to understand what any of the buttons did and resorted to button smashing. That was a bad idea.

The machine sparked and glitched in the air, the prongs jutting back in and out a few times. When it finally stilled, the gentle blue darkened to a deep red and the electric prongs were replaced by small turrets. "Activating instant kill mode." 

"All Might!" Izuku warned, gripping your arm tighter in case he needed to make a quick escape.

"I've got it! I've got it!" He, in fact, did not have it. But he did continue his rapid button mashing and one of them must've been the off switch because the device immediately beeped twice and crashed ungracefully to the ground. "See, everything's fine!"

"Who puts instant kill mode on a drone?" you breathed, your own bruising grip on Izuku's shoulder not letting up.

Izuku's guard still up, he let go of you to inspect the device lying lifelessly on the ground. When he was satisfied that it was powered down, he turned his glare towards Yagi, who was still standing sheepishly in the bushes.

"What is going on?" you asked, puzzled by pretty much the entire situation.

Izuku marched towards his mentor and grabbed his arm, hauling him out of the bushes. The man didn't put up much of a fight as Izuku lead him a little farther away, holding a hand telling you to wait where you were for just a moment. When he was out of earshot, he looked up at the retired hero.

"What was that?"

"I was just testing out a drone for young Hatsume," Yagi forced a smile, "It was a failure."

"There's something…strange going on with you lately." Izuku glanced back at you, who had ventured closer to the drone in curiosity. "Why'd you give her that ticket? And why'd you cover it up with a fake event?"

Yagi cocked his head, trying to figure out the best way out of this. "Well, I- um I was just trying to help."

"Help with what?"

The older man let out an exhausted sigh. "It's obvious what's going on between the two of you, but I don't think either of you sees it. Ever since you met that girl, you've been distracted. I was just trying to…speed things along."

Izuku blinked, registering the information before he stepped back, face red. "Wait, so you were trying to-to, play matchmaker?" The thought filled the poor hero with such a heavy embarrassment that All Might of all people was interfering with his…love life.

Yagi groaned and rubbed his face. "No, well sort of. Look, I'm sorry, I just, you were getting so lost in your work that you were neglecting other aspects of your life. I didn't mean to go this far, I just wanted you to realize what was in front of you." He placed his hand on Izuku's shoulder with a sigh. "I was exactly like you at your age. Wanting nothing more than to be the hero that everyone could rely on. But at the cost of a personal life. I'm not saying to abandon your goals, but don't make the same mistakes that I did."

Izuku was only half-listening, too focused on the fact that his mentor, a man he considered a father figure, was trying to set him up with you. You, the one person who turned his stomach into a butterfly sanctuary. The person who seemed to unbalance him with a single look. The person who constantly filled his mind- maybe Yagi had a point. But that didn't make it any less awkward.

"So the bag-"

"Was me."

"The tickets?"

"I thought once you realized the mistake, you'd take her to the show instead."

"And the drone?"

"You were letting her walk away, it was a last resort." He looked down at the controller. "Although, I probably should've practiced more with it. Hatsume makes these things so complicated."

"Deku?" you called, looking a bit uncomfortable, standing alone with the deactivated drone.

"I-" he shook his head. "We'll talk about this later." He pointed to the controller. "And give that thing back to Hatsume."

Yagi nodded but grabbed Izuku's shoulder as he turned to leave. "I'm sorry for the trouble I caused, but you have a chance here my boy, don't squander it."

Izuku looked at Yagi's hand and nodded. "I- I know you mean well Toshi, but I'm grown up now." When Yagi's face fell with a defeated nod, the young hero waved his hands. "But I'm grateful you care so much. Thank you, I can handle it from here."

A small smile made its way onto his face. "I know you do my boy. Go get her."

With a nod, Izuku jogged back over to you, checking you over. Yagi watched the two of you for a moment before blending back into the trees. It seemed the two of you needed privacy.

"Well this has been a weird day," you said when Izuku came back. "Does this happen often for you?"

"This was definitely a first," he admitted. "I'm sorry about that."

"It's alright. You'd never let anything bad happen." you shrugged. "It'll make for an interesting story though. Um, why was All Might hiding in the bushes with a drone?"

"He has too much free time on his hands nowadays." The pro hero muttered, glancing back to the tree line. "Um, so about that ticket, it's actually for next week. I was just thinking, I have one too, so if, uh, if you were interested, we could go together."

"Well I sure can't waste this ticket, after all we went through for it," you grinned. "That sounds fun."

A huge wave of relief washed over him at your acceptance. "Great," he sighed with a  smile. "You know, in case some other crazy defective device comes along, I can walk you to your car if you'd like?"

"Wow, a hero and a gentleman." you looped your arm through his. "I'd like that very much.”

It took all of Izuku's training and willpower to stay calm as you leaned into him, getting comfortable for the long walk back. Neither of you noticed a pair of dark blue eyes on you as you left the clearing, excitably holding onto the defective drone because despite the setbacks, his plan had actually worked.

Taglist: @dorki-time @peachsenpie @thecindy @miriobaby @awilddreamerwrites @kiyoobi @dragonsdreamoffire @amive2567 @justscar @kenmaskitten10

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 21/2021) - Tommy’s Visit, Guard Training Day

It’s the day for Tommy’s final prison visit, one last visit to see Dream and gain closure. Things don’t go exactly to plan, though, and the situation takes a turn for the worse...

Jack Manifold and Quackity discuss business plans, Eret returns to start collecting taxes, and Sam decides it’s about time to get some helping hands, getting Bad and Antfrost on the job.

A summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

HBomb94

Tommy

Tommy (Again)

Jack Manifold

Eret

Awesamdude

Foolish (Again)

Ranboo

---

- Foolish works on building HBomb a giant mansion in the savannah village.

- HBomb and Niki build a Bellsprout Pokemon head attached to Ponk’s tree in Lemon City.

-

--- Tommy’s Prison Visit ---

-

- Tommy comes online to visit Dream one last time in prison, for closure. Even though Dream is locked up and out of sight, he still feels miserable, a little bit empty.

“I think it’s because I haven’t shut the book. He’s still in my life, y’know?”

- He heads over to the prison. He is greeted by photos of BBH and Rat. The pictures George put on the entrance are still there.

- Tommy comes through to the lobby and greets Sam. Sam asks the questions.

“When was the last time you visited the prison?” 

“A bit ago...like a while back. A month. A month ago.”

“Where is your place of residence currently located?”

“My home over there, down yonder. The hotel. The Big Innit Hotel, Sam.”

“Do you believe that the prisoner is deserving of being locked up?”

“Yes, yeah, I absolutely do. I think he’s a wrongen. I don’t think he deserves death, though. I should make that very clear. I don’t think he deserves death.”

“What are your prior relations with the prisoner?” 

“I think he’s a bastard, he’s ugly, and um...I’d say...We manipulated one another. He...he manipulated me, kind of a bit of the villain, kind of an evil guy, kind of the ‘Dr. Octopus’ of the Dream SMP universe.”

- Tommy puts his items in the locker and they go through.

- Tommy comments on how every traumatic place he’s been in has been made of blackstone.

- Tommy doesn’t need to see Dream, “Unless one of my close friends dies...”

- They make it to the lava wall. The lava descends, and Tommy enters the cell.

- They greet each other. Dream’s lost his clock since the last time Tommy visited, and Tommy cracks a joke.

Dream: “That’s the Tommy I know...”

Dream throws Tommy some potatoes to regen health.

- Dream says he’s happy that Tommy came to visit. It’s been a while. Tommy tells him that it’s his last time visiting. Dream asks why, and insists that he’ll get out eventually.

- Tommy asks about the crying obsidian. Dream explains that it’s a security measure, and he likes to watch it drip.

- Tommy says it’s his last visit again, and the conversation grows more tense as they argue about exile, and Tommy says that he can’t even go into plains biomes now without trembling.

- Tommy then asks about the books he asked Dream to write, to which Dream replies that he burned them.

- Tommy opens the chest and sees the thank you letters. Tommy asks if Dream knows anything about the Egg. Dream doesn’t know much about it.

- The subject of it being Tommy’s final visit comes up again, and Tommy tells Dream that he doesn’t want him in his life anymore, that he ruined L’manburg and almost killed Tubbo.

Dream: “I did bad things, but...everybody thinks they’re right from their perspective.”

Tommy: “That’s not true. That’s not true!”

Dream: “I think I’m right. I did bad things but I did them for good reasons, but I’ve learned, I’ve...I did bad things and I’ve learned that I shouldn’t have done them.”

Tommy: “What good reasons? No, please, enlighten us.”

Dream: “I just wanted a...I just wanted to bring the server together, have it be...a happy family, y’know?”

Tommy: “Bring the server t-- you f-- Dream, you blew up L’manburg, Dream. You tried killing me! You tried killing everyone! You tried hurting people’s loved ones, man, it’s like what the fuck! You’re delusional, man, and I’m fucking sick of it. And I...but I don’t need to go through any of this stress anymore, alright? Because this is me doing this to me now, not you. You’re fine now, you’re locked up now, you’re a bitch. I’m the one that’s giving me the stress here now...but I’m better than that! I’m better than you, alright? So I’m done here.”

“You ruined my past, Dream, but you will NOT ruin my future.”

- Dream continues to insist that he’s changing. All of a sudden, Tommy hears TNT explosions.

Dream: “Sounds like a security issue.”

- Sam disappears. Tommy calls to be let out.

Tommy: “Dream, it hasn’t been an honor knowing you, but it will be an honor forgetting you.”

- The explosions continue.

- Dream says he wrote the 7-days waiver and thinks this might be a security issue, but he doesn’t know what’s going on.

- Dream and Tommy continue to argue.

Tommy: “I KNOW YOU. You haven’t changed! You’re the fuckin’ monster of this server, alright!? Not the Egg, not anything like this, YOU ARE!”

- Tommy only has one life left, so if he dies in here, then he dies for good. 

(Dying by the lava wall to get out would be a canon death)

- Tommy panics and starts burning Dream’s books in the lava. And the item frame. Dream takes the rest of the books into his inventory.

- Dream hands him a book and says he could write a story.

- Dream continually insists that he’s changed, and that he didn’t have anything to do with the TNT.

Tommy: “You’ve not changed, you’re the same old...you’re evil. You’re just evil.”

- Sam messages saying the prison is on lockdown, and to hang tight.

- Dream hands Tommy more potatoes, but he doesn’t have many left. They’ll have to wait for the automated refill.

- Tommy asks how long it’ll be. Dream guesses up to a week, like the waiver says.

“Oh no...”

Tommy ends his stream there.

---

- Jack logs on to check on the hotel and is confused by where Tommy is. He checks Twitter and finds out that Tommy has been locked in prison. He asks Sam to confirm. Sam tells him that there’s been a security issue and no one is to approach the prison.

- At first, Jack is outraged that his plans have been foiled again. But then he realizes that, with Tommy in prison, he’s now gained ownership of the hotel! He rebrands it to the Big Jack Manifold Hotel.

- Jack goes to rebrand and Sam Nook greets him at the hotel. Sam argues with Jack, not wanting Jack to take ownership.

- Jack speaks with Quackity, telling him that Tommy’s in jail. Quackity talks about how there’s soon to be an established currency: the diamond. Jack agrees to pay two diamonds for leather.

- Eret comes over to the hotel and Quackity and Jack speak with them. They tell Eret about Tommy being in jail. Eret calls it a “hostile takeover of Tommy’s hotel,” but Jack tries to convince him that it was bad for branding for Tommy’s name to be on the hotel.

- Quackity tells Eret that he’s setting up a big gathering for the opening of his business soon.

- Jack and Eret argue about hotel pricing.

- Quackity tells Jack to not be intimidated by competition, and also describes a plan to create a network of easily-accessible roads. He doesn’t like the wooden path, and says that Jack’s hotel would be a good destination for business. 

- Quackity questions what Jack will do when Tommy gets out of prison. Jack insists it will be fine.

- Jack works on rebranding.

- He then speaks with Badboyhalo. Bad finds out about Tommy being in jail and is surprised. Jack theorizes that maybe he tried to break Dream out.

- Bad discusses having a room in the hotel. Jack asks for payment.

- Eret comes up with a plan to tax the shit out of everyone.

- Sam starts stream at the prison. He doesn’t know what the explosions were.

- He calls for Bad and Ant, as he’s going to make them guards. They’re part of the Badlands and he trusts them.

- The two arrive. Sam fills them in: Tommy came to visit Dream, as he had already 2 or 3 times, and there was TNT going off near the prison. He needs to figure out what’s happening, but he can’t leave the prison and he can’t be in every place at once, which is where the guards come in.

- He opens Locker 2 since Locker 1 still has Tommy’s stuff in it. Sam then starts filling them in on what each lever does.

- Sam walks them through navigating the prison and then shows them the guard-specific areas like the locker room and stasis chamber.

- Sam then shows them the spawn traps. Ant and Bad set their spawns. Each guard gets three full sets of Netherite, three chances to stop whatever security issue may arise.

- At the end of the next tunnel is something top secret that can’t be showed on-stream. 

- He also shows the chest with the waivers, including Ranboo’s in Enderman.

- Sam declares Ant and Bad officially guards. They are happy to finally be employed. Sam says he’s not paying them anything except the satisfaction of knowing they’ll be helping to keep Dream in there.

- Sam, Bad and Ant find Eret’s tax request.

- Ranboo works on building a farm, starting his farmer arc.

- There’s a secret message spelled out in his inventory that reads: “HE IS IN CON(T)ROL.”

Upcoming Events:

- Quackity’s business reveal

- Whatever is going to happen in the prison now...

END OF WEEK RECAP:

2/15 - Ranboo finds his wall signs changed

2/16 - Tommy’s hotel opening, Karl and Sapnap name Kinoko Kingdom

2/17 - Foolish, Ponk and HBomb’s lore, Bad confronts Puffy about the propaganda

2/18 - Bad and Antfrost confront Puffy about the propaganda

2/19 - George vandalizes the prison, Captain Puffy’s Prank Wars

2/20 - Nothing much happens.

2/21 - Tommy gets trapped in prison, Jack and Quackity speak, Eret returns

[the-modernmary]

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (prologue)

Summary: When Aaron Hotchner ended your affair with him, saying that a serial killer was going after him and his family, you were content with the idea that you'd probably never see him again. Two years have come and gone since then, but when you get dragged into an FBI investigation as a key witness, you and Hotch are forced to come face to face with all the things left unsaid.

Warnings: Age gap (15-ish years), smut, degradation, unprotected sex. This story is 18+ older. This is not a story for minors.

A/N: Hello, hello!! I figured that since I've made a writing tumblr, I should post my story on here!! This is a multichapter story, so I am very excited to go on this journey with y'all!! I already have multiple chapters written and published, so these should be coming out VERY quickly. If you don't want to wait to catch up, you can read everything I have on ao3! This chapter starts as a flashback, and then the next chapter and the rest from here on out will be actual plot!

masterlist || read on ao3

“If you were waitin’ on the sunshine, blue sky

Cheap high, lullaby

Then my best habit’s letting you down”

- The Maine, “My Best Habit”

Two years earlier

Your eyes scanned the University Ballroom, your champagne glass practically ignored in your hand. You hated all these alumni networking galas and avoided going to them as much as possible. Old, sleazy lawyers with much younger women on their arm reliving their best cases with each other and expecting all the new law students to laugh when they were able to get their defendant acquitted because of some dumb technicality. It made you sick.

It didn’t help that you were already going in with a bad attitude. Your ex-boyfriend had dropped by your apartment that morning to pick up the rest of his stuff, and he decided that the best person to help him with that was the girl he had been cheating on you with. You caught them together three weeks ago, and you had been so stressed from midterms that you hadn’t even had the chance to go out, get drunk, and have wildly irresponsible rebound sex.

But you had to suck it up for the night, at least until you were able to get the answer you came for. After that, you could go back to your apartment, replace your too tight and too short dress with some nice pajamas, and watch trashy reality TV until you passed out on your couch.

You scanned the room a few more times until you caught sight of a tall man in a dark suit leaning against the bar. Bingo. You set your champagne flute down and ran over to him as fast as your heels could take you. Once you were just a few steps away, you quickly composed yourself and walked straight into his line of sight.

SSA Aaron Hotchner rarely came to alumni events here at George Washington Law School, citing that he wasn’t even a prosecutor anymore and had much more important work to do back at the BAU, but he was going as favor to his old law school buddy. Plus, it was either coming to this or going out to the bar with the team, and seeing as he had just signed the divorce papers with Haley, he wanted to be somewhere he wasn’t going to be profiled all night. The free champagne was also a bonus.

When you saw that his name was on the RSVP list, you knew that you had to go.

“Agent Hotchner?” you asked, giving him your best straight A student smile.

He refused to look up right away, not giving you the chance to charm him. “I’m not currently on duty. If there is a case you would like the BAU to look over, that’s handled by our media liaison,” he said absently, taking another sip of champagne.

You frowned but kept your hand out for him to shake. “That’s not what I’m here for, I-” You took a breath to compose yourself. “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m a first year here- getting a joint JD and masters in forensic psychology. My goal is to become a prosecutor,” you pressed, and you were rewarded when he perked up in interest. He slid his drink on the table.

“Most law firms don’t usually want a prosecutor who’s going to empathize with the person you’re prosecuting,” he mused, and shook your hand, his grip just tight enough to pass as faux politeness.

You shook your head and clasped your hands behind your back, trying to ignore how warm his hands were. “I think the best prosecutors empathize with the defendants,” you admitted. “Isn’t that how you succeeded as both a prosecutor and as a federal agent? That’s actually why I came to you, I wanted to ask you a question... about my thesis,” you added quickly, figuring that the best way to get him to talk to you.

Aaron’s posture changed from half asleep to maybe listening, and your face went red. Sure, you only came to the event to talk to him, but you never thought that you’d actually get Aaron Hotchner to pay attention to you. “I didn’t empathize with the people I was putting in jail,” he told you, his voice ice cold. “That didn’t come until I worked in the BAU, and even now, I wouldn’t call it empathy. Just understanding of how they became the type of person they are.” He leaned sideways on the bar counter and you felt yourself shrink under his gaze. You shifted slightly and felt the hem of your dress move up your thighs ever so slightly. Aaron noticed too, if the lick of his lips was anything to go by.

You took his silence as your signal to ask your question. “You offered Jessica Michaelson a lesser sentence that had her released in just three years despite the fact that she murdered her brother in cold blood in his sleep. You had the evidence, why didn’t you push for premeditation?” you asked, and his eyebrow quirked upwards. “In the case The People vs. Michaelson,” you added unnecessarily, trying to break the silence.

“I know the case you’re referring to. I was the lead on it,” he reminded you, his voice edging on dangerous. “You know, most people aren’t interested in my days as a lawyer.”

You shrugged, hoping to appear more confident than you felt. “I’m not most people,” you agreed, biting down on your lower lip. His gaze was so intense, and it was affecting you in ways you couldn’t have imagined. It was turning you on, you realized with a start. It had been a while since you had last had sex, and it was driving you only slightly crazy. “But that doesn’t answer my question.”

Aaron grabbed a champagne flute from a server walking by, and shoved it in your direction. You grabbed it cautiously. “Did you read the police report on the case?” he asked, and you nodded wordlessly, taking a sip of the champagne. The alcohol was making you bolder, and you stepped towards him. “Then you’ll know that there was very little physical evidence tying her to the muder. We chose to offer the charge that would have stuck instead of risking her being found not guilty.”

You gritted your teeth together in an effort to calm yourself down. “She murdered four people within the six months after she was released from prison,” you reminded him.

That seemed to have struck a chord with Aaron, and his steely persona seemed to fade ever so slightly. He sighed exasperatedly; you were obviously getting on his nerves. “The prints and DNA that were collected and put into VICAP when she was in prison are what got her caught in the end, and that was the evidence needed to lock her away for life. We wouldn’t have gotten those prints without her original charge. It all worked out.”

You groaned and threw your hands in the air. “You couldn’t have predicted that, though,” you argued. “And people have been found guilty with way less evidence than you had in the original case. I think you just felt bad for her, considering her brother was a real piece of shit.” You were being difficult now, you knew that. But there was something about Aaron Hotcher that was pulling you in, and you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Aaron gave you a predatory grin and he stepped towards you ever so slightly, finishing his drink. He must have had multiple drinks too, judging by the soft flush on his face. “Oh, you do?” He seemed amused now. He slowly raked his eyes from your face, down your neck, and down the rest of your body, and you forgot how to breath. You knew that it was inappropriate and that he was a highly respected FBI agent, even if he was kind of an asshole at the moment. You also knew that the two of you were crossing lines that neither of you should have even been close to, but you shivered under the weight of his gaze all the same.

You shifted back and forth, your brain trying to process what was happening. “Yeah, I do. And I know that you transferred to the FBI after Michaelson was arrested again, which makes me think that this case was your breaking point,” you ranted, your hands becoming more and more animated.

Aaron chuckled, but there was very little amusement behind it. “Are you sure you want to be a lawyer?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. “Because you’re starting to talk like a profiler.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “No thanks,” you said firmly, and he just shrugged before making a move to walk past you. You sidestepped in front of him, effectively blocking him from going anywhere. But it was obvious that he was done talking about this.

In your mind, you had two options now. You could keep pushing him about a case that he obviously didn’t want to talk to you about, or you could switch gears in your brain and have him help you solve your... other problem. Aaron was attractive, and you were getting tired of guys your age. You noticed the distinct lack of a wedding ring on his finger, but there was still a tan to show that it had been there. So either he was recently separated or just trying to cheat on his wife. You wanted to not care whichever it was, but a pang in your heart told you to be considerate. Besides, you did not want to get involved with another cheater.

“Must be hard to be at these events without your wife here to scare off all the lonely female law students,” you mused cautiously. You didn’t want to come on too strong, but the alcohol in your system was slowly clouding your ability to be subtle.

Aaron cleared his throat, obviously taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “I’m not married,” he said, too quickly and too defensively. So he’s separated, you thought, and you stepped closer to him.

His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out your endgame. “Well, I would love to discuss your work as a prosecutor more when there are less… distractions around,” you whispered, your words breathy. “Tell me Agent Hotchner, do I make you nervous?” You sounded a lot more confident than you felt.

Aaron just smirked and grabbed your free hand, covering it in both of his, and the action was surprisingly soft, even if it was way too late for him to try acting suave. His eyes, on the other hand, told a whole other story. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes were practically black. “I face the worst people in society on a daily basis. Desperate law students don’t make me nervous. In fact…” He stepped towards you, looking around to make sure nobody else was looking. Aaron leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear with every word. “I think that I make you nervous. And more than nervous, I make you very excited.”

Your breath hitched as he pulled back, a smug smile gracing his lips. You yanked your hand back to preserve what little dignity you had left, but it was too late. “Now, if you would like to discuss my prosecuting career more in depth, then you can set up a formal meeting with me at the BAU,” he continued, obviously proud of himself and the effect he was having on you. He pulled out a business card and upon further instruction, you realized that it wasn’t even his. Jennifer Jareu the name read. “Our media liaison will be able to help you organize that. Now if you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the night.”

Aaron finished the rest of his drink and brushed past you while you were still trying to get your thoughts under control. “Oh, and you’ll make a wonderful lawyer someday, I’m sure of it,” he called over his shoulder, and that snapped you back into action.

You followed, running around him and cutting him off. “And if I don’t want to discuss your prosecuting career?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. “What if I was interested in a… less formal meeting?”

That was all the permission he needed. Aaron grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the ballroom, the two of you moving so fast that nobody in the room even had a chance to put two and two together. There was an empty hallway just next to the entrance of the room and Aaron pulled you in that direction, pressing you against the wall and kissing you fiercely the second the two of you were alone.

There was nothing gentle about the kiss, but in a strange role reversal, he let you take the lead. It’s certainly not what you expected from Aaron Hotchner who, until now, had been controlling every aspect of your meeting. You realized then that this was his way of making sure you were okay with what was happening- giving you a chance to back out and change your mind. You just answered by tangling your hands in his hair, pulling so that he was at just the right angle to kiss you.

Aaron dug his fingers into your hips, hard enough to make you gasp out. You were definitely going to have bruises the next day, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. He shoved his leg in between yours and tugged on your lip with his teeth, which made you whimper involuntarily. He smirked against your lips, obviously proud of the noises he was drawing from you. You pulled on his hair harder as a sign of irritation, but that seemed to only make him more amused as he pulled away to laugh into your neck.

“Are we just going to make out against a wall like we’re back in high school, or are you going to actually do something worth my time?” you breathe, fighting to keep your voice even and light. It only halfway worked as he dragged his tongue up your neck to your pulse point. And then he bit down, hard.

It took everything in your power to stay quiet, especially as he softly kissed the newly forming bruise. His attack on your neck was relentless as he pulled your hips and back forth against his thigh. You whimpered as you desperately tried to get any friction from the simple movement. Your skirt was now dangerously close to being pushed so far up your legs that you would be completely exposed.

You pulled away first- you had to or your legs were going to completely give out from under you. You desperately tried to get your breathing under control and, to your annoyance, he looked perfectly composed. The only thing giving him away was his slightly swollen lips.

His fingers trailed up your thigh, getting so close to where you want him. “What would you like me to do then?” he asked easily, his voice almost sounding bored. You were speechless, like your brain had just short circuited. There were a lot of things you wanted him to do, but the words were lost on the tip of your tongue. “If you want something, you have to ask for it.” That was a demand, and he punctuated it by pressing his thigh further into you. You were sure he was going to have a wet spot on his slacks. He took the hand not in between your legs and grabbed your jaw forcefully, his thumb resting on your bottom lip. “Use your words, little girl.”

You realize that the two of you were standing on the edge of a cliff, and you had the power to decide whether or not to jump over. It gave you a strange sense of power. Logically, you knew it was a bad idea. He was too old for you, obviously going through some sort of relationship trauma, and wasn’t somebody you could talk to your friends and family about. But the less rational side wanted him so badly it hurt. You wanted him more than you’ve wanted anything or anyone in a long time.

You noticed your strawberry colored lipstick was smudged ever so slightly on the corner of his mouth, and that’s all it took for you to jump off the side of the cliff. “I want you to drag me into the empty classroom just down the hall and fuck me senseless. I want you to use me,” you moan before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking.

The look on his face is something you’ll never forget. There was a mix of shock and arousal, but also something primitive; His eyes darkened when you told him to use you, and there was a fluttering in your stomach. You couldn’t tell if it was from excitement or dread. Maybe even both.

He removed his hands from your mouth and legs, only to place his hand on the small of your back. He began walking towards the classroom you had pointed out, much too slow for your liking, but he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’re going to regret asking me to use you,” he practically growls in your ear, each word increasing your arousal. “Are you one of those lonely female law students you warned me about? So desperate and needy for a real man to bend you over a table and fuck you until you can’t walk straight? Ready and willing to whore yourself out for the first man who gives you a second glance?”

Your breath hitched as you stuttered out your answer. “Y-yes, Agent Hotchner,” you whispered as he opened the classroom door and guided you in.

As soon as the door was shut and locked, he was back on your lips again, lifting you so that you were sitting on one of the desks with your legs wrapped around his waist. “Call me Aaron,” he mumbled in between kisses, and you were all too happy to oblige.

You were a moaning mess at this point as his hands pushed your dress up to your waist. His hands and lips were somehow everywhere at once and you were so hot and all you could think about was getting your damn dress off, but Aaron seemed to have other plans.

He ran his fingers up your lace covered slit and he just chuckled into your lips. “You’re so wet for me, already,” he groaned and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. “And I’ve barely touched you. Do my words really have that much effect on you? Do you like it when I call you a whore?”

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and quickly pulled them down. You could feel his bulge pressing against you and all you could think about was how badly you wanted it. How badly you wanted him. Your hands moved down his chest to make quick work of his belt, and his pants followed after.

“Please, please Aaron,” you begged, desperately trying to create some friction against him. His fingers tangled in your hair and he pulled your head back so that you were looking at him.

“You’re so pretty when you beg.” His fingers slowly ran up your slit, not enough to give you any pleasure. He was teasing you and enjoying every second of it. “And I wish I could take my time with you. The things I want to do to you…” Two of his fingers entered you and you cried out loudly. “But somebody could walk in on us at any second. I’m sure they can all hear you moaning like a dirty whore, all for me. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? So desperate for my attention and approval.”

His words turned you on more than you would have liked to admit. “Yes, Aaron yes. Please-” you were cut off by Aaron curling his fingers, hitting that spot that made you want to scream out in pleasure. But all too soon, they were gone.

He inspected his fingers, which were now covered in your juices, before bringing them to your mouth. “Suck,” he ordered, and you eagerly complied, wrapping your lips around his fingers and moaning at the taste of yourself. “I’ll just have to fuck you quickly here, and then you’ll be begging for more next time,” he groaned and finally- finally- entered you.

He didn’t give you time to adjust to him, thrusting roughly into you. He removed his fingers from your mouth and brought his hand to your neck. He didn’t put any pressure, but he wanted you to know that he could and would if you decided to get mouthy with him.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk you were sitting on, your knuckles turning white. Your eyes started to close in pleasure as his hips slammed into yours, but they shot open as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Look at me. I want to see you when you cum,” he ordered, and you nodded the best you could.

“Yes sir!” you cried out, unsure of what else to say.

Seemingly satisfied with your answer, Aaron released your throat and moved his hand down so that he was stimulating your clit. You could feel the coil in your stomach tighten as your legs started to twitch. Aaron took this as motivation to slam into you even harder, relishing each time you gasped out his name.

His pace was unforgiving, leaving you gasping for air. Keeping your eyes open was a challenge, but you were able to do it with his soft mutters of praise. “Even brats like you can be good girls,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. “You just need somebody to fuck it into you.”

You were unable to respond coherently, so you just settled on begging even more, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. Aaron seemed to know, and he sped up his fingers against your clit. You wanted to scream out for him, but your voice wasn’t working. “What did I say before?” he asks roughly. “If you want something, ask for it.”

“Please… please can I cum?” you cried out, feeling yourself getting close to the edge. “Please let me cum around your cock!”

He nodded in approval and you had to muffle yourself in his neck to keep quiet. He fucked you through your orgasm, the overstimulation almost too much, but it wasn’t long before he was moaning your name, and you felt him fill you.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, both breathing heavily as the situation started to sink in. You just let a guy almost 15 years older than you that you just met fuck you in an empty classroom, and you really enjoyed it. Aaron, on the other hand, looked like he was going through a full crisis.

He pulled out of you slowly, and you winced at the feeling. He pulled up his pants quickly. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, looking around the empty classroom. “I don’t have anything good to clean you up with.” A box of kleenex caught his eye and he grabbed a few tissues. It was better than nothing.

You chuckled nervously and waved it off. “It’s fine,” you promised, your voice coming out shakier than you expected, but he ignored you. He wiped the mess dripping down your thighs. You were cold. He must have noticed, because he took off his suit jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked softly, and it was a full 180 from the way he had just been talking to you.

“I’m great,” you admitted honestly. “Seriously, that was… great.”

Aaron smiled at you- the first real smile he had given you all night. “It wasn’t too much?” he confirmed, and you suddenly remembered what he had said to you earlier. ...then you’ll be begging for more next time. Was he planning on a next time? You wouldn’t have minded it.

You shook your head and slowly slid off the table. You took one of the tissues and wiped up the mess that was left on the table. “Not at all. In fact, I could take more. Next time.” Your voice was light and airy. Aaron watched as you picked your underwear off the floor. There was no way you were putting those back on, not when you had no idea when the floor was last cleaned.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” he teased, eyeing you carefully.

“Well I can’t keep it if I only have your media liaison’s number,” you reminded him, your eyebrow raised. Aaron chuckled and pulled out another business card, except this time it was his. You plucked the card out of his hands and inspected it carefully. “I’ll call you sometime. You can do all those other things we didn’t have time to do.” You were on your tiptoes now, whispering in his ear. “You know… my mouth can do a lot more than just ask for things.” As you spoke, you slipped your panties into his back pocket. You just laughed as you heard a soft gasp escape his lips.

You made your way towards the door, your legs wobbling dangerously underneath you. You were sure that you looked like a mess, but you didn’t care. All that mattered to you was Aaron Hotchner’s eyes glued to your ass. “Get home safe,” he told you and you let yourself smile. Maybe it was a bad idea to start sleeping with a recent divorcee, but the sex was great and you both knew where you stood with the other person. No feelings, just fucking out your frustrations and stress.

Oh yeah, coming to this event was definitely a good call on your part.

[hoodharlow]

Como Antes

AN: So I'm gonna include this in the El Novio Quarantine Edition masterpost, so y'all don't confused with original El Cumpleañero on the actual El Novio masterpost. Also to shout out to @findingliam-o and her y/n-esque dreams that brought this baby back to existence.

Requested: by steph i guess lol, ilysm bby

Warnings: smut, brief angst and mentions of shitty boyfriend that gave out baby Claudia shit for not being a virgin

Word Count: 3.6k words

Claudia’s finger followed the words on the computer screen as she wrote down the quote she was going to use for her paper. She hated reading off PDFs because it made her eyes tired. She liked having physical copies of her assigned readings because she paid more attention to what was being said and she could write in the margins little annotations. The book she needed was at Calum’s house and there was no way in hell she was going to go back to his place after what Ashton said.

Calum had called and texted her nonstop, but she ignored him. She was just embarrassed that she acted like a coward. She should have stood her ground and told Ashton he was wrong about her. But she didn’t.

Even Michael and Sierra called her to check in on her after hearing through Luke that something happened between her and Ashton. Claudia ignored her too and the past week she acted like they didn’t exist. She just wanted the ground to swallow her whole and make Calum forget about her existence.

Frustrated with the reading she got up from her desk chair and went to the kitchen to get a snack. She grabbed a juice box and reheated some noodles she ordered the other day.

The house was surprisingly quiet. Her housemates went out to some frat party Ale's brother was throwing. They invited Claudia, but she wasn't in the mood to go. After getting home from Calum's, she cried at how stupid Ashton made her feel. They comforted her, reminding her that Calum knew her and that Ashton is a jerk that doesn’t know her.

She dumped her noodles on a plate and soaked the pan. She took her plate and went back to her room. Claudia knew she wasn't going to get her work done that night, so she pulled up Netflix. She stumbled on a show about three women robbing a grocery store because one of them had a daughter with a bad kidney and another was about to lose her house because her husband was a cheating piece of shit. While the other is just a mess working a minimum wage job.

Claudia was deep in IMDB trying to figure out where she saw the mistress, when she heard the doorbell. She paused the show and made her way to the front door. She peeked through the window sills and saw Ariel red hair.

Ashton.

She rolled her eyes and went to open the door.

"What do you want?" She deadpanned when she opened the door. She reached for a blanket and stepped outside.

"Hello to you too." Ashton sassed.

"What do you want?" Claudia repeated.

"I came to apologize. Calum hasn't talked to me in days and— why are you rolling your eyes?"

"Because you're full of shit. You're only here so you can go back to Cal and tell him you apologized so he can talk to you again. You only care about making yourself feel good after you stuck your nose where it's not supposed to be."

"Claudia,"

"Oh now it's Claudia. I was really starting to think my name was radio girl."

"You're really making it hard to apologize."

"I'm not. I'm just saying that just how you didn't give a fuck about my feelings when you told Cal that I'm only with him to catch some dick, I don't care about yours. If you came to apologize then do it."

Ashton was quiet. Claudia scoffed and turned back to go inside.

"Claudia, I'm sorry," He began. She turned back and leaned against the door frame. "It was shitty of me to say that about you. You're right, it wasn't my place to tell Cal that. In addition I shouldn't assume your sexual history."

"More like a lack of sexual history." Claudia mumbled out loud. Her eyes widened upon realizing she said that out loud.

"Oh you're a…"

"Yeah."

"Well, now I feel like an even bigger asshole." Ashton said. He scratched the back of his neck.

They both stood quietly, looking down at the ground.

"Um Cal didn't want a party for his birthday this year. Apparently, he has plans in the evening. So Sierra and I reserved a room at this restaurant for brunch. It's just gonna be the guys and Sierra. KayKay is still out of town and Crystal is working an event or something. I'm sure Cal would be happy to see you."

"I'll think about it."

***

Calum pulled out his keys from the ignition, yawning. Only Ashton and Sierra would plan to do something in the morning. Granted it was almost eleven, but with the lack of sleep Calum was going through, it was too early for him. Not to mention he didn't want to go. He was still pissed at Ashton for making things awkward with Claudia. Sierra reassured him that that was resolved and that he should go.

He grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out of the car. He shoved his hands in his pockets, surprised at how cold it was even with the bright sun out. When he walked in the place, he heard Ashton's hearty laugh followed by Luke and Michael's giggles, letting him know he went to the right place. He followed the hostess to a room in the back.

"About time you showed up." Sierra said, making Claudia look up from her phone.

She softly smiled at him. Michael pulled Calum into a hug, bringing him back to reality. Luke and Sierra hugged him as well and wished him a happy birthday.

Ashton got up and pulled him away from the table. He ran his hand through his red hair and cleared his throat.

"Claudia and I had a talk a few days ago." Ashton said.

"So I heard." Calum nodded.

"I apologized to her and we're good. But I want to apologize to you too." Ashton looked behind Calum's shoulder watching Claudia pose with Sierra as Luke took pictures of them. "I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment. You were right. Claudia's a good person with even greater intentions."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Calum awkwardly chuckled. "Uh, apology accepted I guess."

"One question though."

"What's up?"

"Why haven't you asked her out? It's fucking obvious to the world and their dog that both of you have feelings for each other."

"She broke up with her boyfriend a few months ago. I don't wanna ask her out and potentially fuck up a good friendship."

Ashton thought back to what Claudia accidentally told him so he just nodded and said. "You'll know when the right time is."

They went back to the table. Calum pulled Claudia to a hug when he sat next to her.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here." He said, placing his arm on the back of her chair.

"Ashton convinced men with free food."

"I did what?" Ashton asked, confused.

"Yeah, you offered to pay for my food too." Michael called out while sipping his mimosa.

The brunch went by smoothly. By the end their server came by with a red velvet cake Claudia made. She showed up early and asked the manager if they could hold the cake while they ate.

Calum offered to walk Claudia back to her car since she parked the furthest. She held onto his arm cold from the breeze that blew. She knew she should have worn a jacket over her turtleneck.

"What are you doing later?" Calum asked her.

"Nothing, probably watch some tv." She said, rummaging through her bag for her keys.

"Wanna go to a concert? Management managed to get me some tickets to see Bad Bunny and since you got me into him I want to take you."

"You got tickets? I've been trying to get some for weeks."

"So that's a yes?"

"Oh my god yes!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!"

They talked a bit, mostly planning out the night. Calum was picking her up a bit early so they could eat something beforehand because concessions are always a mess. As they discussed what they wanted to eat, a black Mercedes parked in front of Claudia's car, leaving her no room to get out.

"No mames," she cursed as the driver of the Benz walked past them. She smiled sweetly at Calum. "Can you pull out?"

"Pull out?" He blinked, confused.

"Like can you get my car out of the parking spot." she explained. "It's too snug for me."

"How did you even get your licence?" He asked her while taking her keys.

"I wore some shorts and a halter top." She gestured over her outfit. "You think a turtleneck and some jeans would have done the job?"

Calum shamelessly scanned her up and down, keeping his eyes on her ass for an extra second. He looked over to her and smiled. "It does the job for me."

***

"Here," Calum said, handing Claudia a flannel he had in his car. "I have a hoodie if you want."

"I'll take the flannel. You don't wear hoodies to a Bad Bunny concert." She said. She let one of the sleeves fall off her shoulder. "Also you're not getting this back. This is now my flannel."

"Oi! That's my favorite flannel."

"That's too bad." Claudia smiled as she fluffed her hair and tugged down her dress. She noticed Calum checking her out as she fixed her outfit on the car door's reflection.

"Ready?" He asked her. She nodded her response.

The arena parking lot was surprisingly packed despite the doors opening in two more hours. Calum and Claudia walked hand in hand, not wanting to get separated from each other. They went over to the line at the taco truck.

Claudia stood in front of him while they waited. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. She relaxed a bit. She wasn't used to all the touching, but she didn't mind it. Calum made her feel safe and comfortable. He didn't do anything that made her feel like he wanted more from her.

It was finally their turn to order. Calum ordered a loaded quesadilla and beer. Before Claudia even processed he was ordering her five tacos de carne asada with the toppings on the side and agua de horchata. He paid the cashier and tugged her towards a free table.

"How did you know my order?" Claudia asked, reaching for his beer and taking a sip.

"We've hung out enough times for me to remember." He shrugged. He took back his beer and drank some. "There weren't carne asada fries on the menu, and you usually order tacos when they're not listed. Plus you've said that carne asada tacos are your safest bet at a taco truck."

"Oh." Claudia quietly said, playing with the wrapper of her straw.

She felt her cheeks warm up. Someone remembering the little things about her always got to her. It made her feel seen. Especially if that someone is Calum. He's an international rockstar that knows hundreds of people and he managed to remember her taco order.

The server came by their table and dropped off their basket of food. They pointed at the salsa station that had seven different types of salsas, limes, radishes, and pickled jalapeños with carrots. Claudia got up to get salsa while Calum stayed behind with their food. He watched her look disinterested at whatever the guy that was hogging the station was telling her.

"Hey, love," Calum called out to Claudia. He held up her phone in the air. "Your mum's calling."

She walked over to him and pretended to answer the phone. "Thank you,'' she whispered.

"What salsas do you want?" he asked.

"There's a creamy green one and the one that looks like regular salsa verde." she said, nodding along to her fake phone call.

Calum squeezed her hand and went to the salsa station. The guy that was trying to talk to Claudia was already talking to another girl.

"Excuse me." he said, wedging himself between them to get to the salsas.

He returned to his table. Claudia was on her phone, frowning.

"What's wrong?" He asked, handing her the salsas.

"Danny's here and he didn't even tell me he was coming up."

"Here as in LA or…"

"He's literally here eating Korean tacos on the other side." She sighed. She bit into her taco and chewed. Covering her mouth, she said. "It's fine though. No one is fucking this night up."

***

The concert went by quickly. They ran into some of Calum's fans and he took some pictures with them. He traded the group their tickets for the box tickets management got him. They wanted to enjoy the actual concert and not get distracted with all the other activities that were the private room.

"I had fun tonight, thank you for inviting me." Claudia told Calum when they got in his car.

"There's no one I would have rather spent the night with." He said shyly.

They both let out nervous giggles. Claudia smiled softly at him and took in his scent. It is a bright and woody cologne mixed with beer someone accidentally spilled on him. It was a comforting scent, as if she was at home. She looked up at Calum, and he glanced down to her lips.

He met her eyes and pushed back some of her curls before cupping her face with one hand. He leaned and pulled her for a quick kiss. As he pulled away, Claudia pulled him back and deepened the kiss.

Without breaking their kiss, she climbed to his lap and cupped his face. Her dress rode up to her waist. Claudia sighed into Calum's lips, feeling his hands slide up her thighs to her ass. She moaned out loudly as he squeezed her ass.

She pulled away and kissed down his neck, nipping and sucking. One of her hands wandered down to his belt. In one swift moment she unbuckled his belt and undid the buttons. Before she went further, Calum's hand pushed hers away.

"As much as I want to, I don't want our first time in my car." He groaned.

But Claudia only heard 'first time.'

"Did Ashton say something?" She asked him. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out that she was a virgin through his best friend.

"What does Ash have to do with this?"

"Nothing, I'm just confused why we stopped."

"Trust me I didn't want to. But I don't want a quickie in my car to be your first impression of me."

"Oh," she said, relieved.

"Yeah…"

"Good thing you live twenty minutes away. Maybe you can impress me there." She whispered, kissing his jaw.

"Wait seriously? You want to go back to my place?"

"Yeah." She sat back in her seat and pulled down her dress. Quickly noticing that they'll be stuck in the parking lot for a while, she turned back to him. "Maybe I can impress you with my mouth while we wait to leave?"

"You mean like a—"

"A blowjob? Yes."

“I’m not one to turn down a blowie.”

***

Calum had Claudia pressed against the door. Their tongues battled to see who got the upper hand. He grabbed the back of her thighs and effortlessly picked her up. He carefully carried her up to his bedroom. There once again he backed her up against the door

She pulled away and slipped off her flannel. Claudia helped him unbutton his shirt and helped him out of the ever present black tank top he wore under it. She slid her hands over his chest and up to his face. She couldn’t believe he was in front of her.

More kisses led them to the bed. The last few layers of clothes shed as they got reacquainted with their bodies.

“Can I have a taste?” Calum whispered in her ear. Claudia looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t have to, of course. Whatever we do is up to you. If you just want to make out then we’ll just make out. But if you want to have sex, fine by me. I want you to know that you’re not obligated to do anything. We can stop and just act like—”

“Go for it.” she said, stopping him from rambling.

“Wait, seriously?” His face lit up.

“Yes.” she softly giggled.

Claudia wrapped her arms around him as she deepened the kiss. She let out a soft whine when Calum pulled away. She watched him kiss her body as he made his way down.

He looked up at her when he reached her dripping core. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah…”

Calum placed her legs over his shoulders and gently kissed thighs purposely ignoring where she wanted him the most.

His fingers grazed her entrance, coating them with her arousal. He licked his fingers and continued to tease her. He smirked as her breathing quickened, and her soft pleas filled the room. He finally laid on his stomach and began to kiss the inside of her thighs before placing them over

his shoulders.

"Fuck." He moaned once he tasted her.

His tongue worked its wonders on Claudia. She never felt so desired. She was on edge minutes later. One of her hands

wrapped around his fresh blonde curls while the other tugged one of her breasts.

"Cal, please,” she begged.

“Gonna you use my fingers now okay?” he said.

“Just be gentle.” She said, stopping him from rambling.

“Of course.”

He kissed her thigh reassuringly. He made a show, licking his middle and ring fingers and making Claudia needy for him. Calum slid his fingers in her. He looked up and saw Claudia’s face contorted in pain.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No… a little, but it’s okay. You’re good, honest.” Claudia sait putting his mind at ease.

Calum nodded and buried his face between her thighs. He slipped his fingers inside of her once more. She squirmed at how he was thrusting his fingers in her. Then he added his thumb and slowly rubbed her clit, bringing her to her orgasm. He continued licking and thrusting his fingers into her as she came.

The tight grip on his hair loosened. Claudia sighed as Calum pulled his fingers out of her. He licked them clean and laid next to her. He turned to his side just as she did. He pushed back her curls and laid his hand on her cheek.

“I didn’t hurt you earlier, right?” He asked her softly.

“No, it kinda caught me off guard since no one’s ever done that. Overall A+.” she commented, earning a snort from him.

Calum gently pushed back and reclaimed her lips. They kissed for what seemed like forever. Not wanting her lips off away from him, he awkwardly reached over and patted around the nightstand, looking for the drawer. He pulled it out too hard and the drawer fell along with all of its content.

“Smooth.” Claudia teased.

“Shut up.” he bent down and opened the box of condoms, taking one out.

Claudia watched Calum slide the condom on himself before he got on top of her. He leaned down and captured her lips. They kissed for a while with some touches here and there.

“Calum, please do something.” Claudia whined. She reached for him and slowly pumped him.

“Eager are we, pretty girl.” He teased her. He lined himself up against her.

“Just want to get this over with.” she mumbled out loud. She cursed. “I didn’t mean like that…”

“Then how did you?”Calum got up and grabbed his boxers. “You just don’t tell someone you’re about to hook up with that you wanna get it over with, Claudia.”

“You do when it’s your first time.” She said quietly, wrapping Calum’s bed sheet around her.

Calum stood silent, processing what she said. His mind went over the little comments they said here and there throughout. Then it finally hit him.

“Claudia, are you a virgin?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it does. It makes a—”

“What, you don’t fuck virgins either?”

“What— Can we just talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about? You’re just like Paco; you want nothing to do with me because I’m a virgin.” Claudia met Calum’s eyes, hurt filled his soft brown eyes. She looked down, embarrassed at herself.

Calum is nothing like Paco.

“I’m sorry. It just all happened so quickly and I freaked out. You’re nothing like Paco, you actually like going down on me.” she added the last bit to lighten up the mood.

Calum sat next to her on the bed. He watched her pull the sheet tighter around her. She sniffled and wiped a few tears away from her cheek.

“Claudia, what really happened between you and your ex?” He asked her gently, not wanting her to feel obligated to share.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she laughed dryly. “He dumped my ass because I never put out.”

“He’s a selfish idiot.” Calum said. He pushed back some of her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry if I pressured you into something you aren’t ready for.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for not telling you that I was a virgin. I was scared that I was gonna push you away or that I’d make things awkward between us if you knew… wait I just did the latter.”

Calum snorted. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her head once more. He scratched her scalp when she laid her head on his shoulder.

“Not to one up your awkwardness but Duke has been in the room the whole time.”

Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart ​ @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021​​   @calumscalm ​ @karajaynetoday ​ @cherryxwildflower ​ @myloverboyash ​  @idontneedanyone ​ @findingliam-o ​ @5-secondsofcolor ​ @spicycal ​ @sexgodashton ​ @fckingpernico ​ @2fangirl4u ​ @calpops

[wakeupflawless]

fic idea! bartender beth and hot single dad rio - um maybe still crime adjacent? that's all i got :)

GIRL.... Why did you even say this....

Sunday nights are hit or miss at Lucky’s. If there’s a Lions or Tigers game (Oh My!) Beth can expect a decent crowd. However on nights like these, when there’s no significant sporting event, holiday or convention, Beth can expect to make less than a hundred dollars in tips. 

She doesn’t mind bartending, used to do it in college before she dropped out due to financial reasons. Actually, she has a knack for it. She’s been told she has a kind face and is a good listener. Her job is more therapy than bartending some nights. And her clients usually leave hefty tips.

Lucky’s is a new gig, she’s only been there for two weeks, but she already has some regulars. The thought of going back to work after fifteen years of being a housewife wasn’t exactly her idea of a good time. But there was a divorce lawyer to pay, kids to provide for and rent on her new three bedroom apartment. 

Having a steady job also helps her case in court if the time ever comes. As much of a shit husband Dean was, he’s a great father, and she’d never deprive her kids of growing up without him. So they decided on split custody down the middle, no arguments. The divorce was hard enough.

She’s torn from her musings by the sound of stool scraping against the floor. There’s only five people at the bar, and the guy who just sat down.. well...

He’s hot. And not in the conventionally attractive blonde hair/blue eyes way - he’s the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. The giant neck tattoo screams dangerous. Beth can tell off the bat he’s not someone to be messed with. 

“Hi there,” she says brightly, sliding a napkin over to him. 

He looks up at her, and she swears she sees a flicker of surprise cross his eyes before it disappears completely, and his face goes neutral. 

“Yo,” he says gruffly, “Gin. Neat.” 

Not the most polite guy, but she’s seen worse in her two weeks. 

“Preference on gin?” she asks.

“Not that cheap Burnett’s bullshit,” he rasps.

Beth’s smile stays plastered on her face, and she nods, scurrying to grab a top shelf liquor. She can tell he’s got money from the Rolex on his wrist and the real diamond pierced into his nose. 

She gives him a generous pour, more than two fingers, and slides it over to him.

“Do you want to open a tab?”

She swears his shoulders shake with laughter, but a second later he’s composed. 

“Nah,” he shakes his head, reaching for his wallet and throwing a hundred dollar bill on the table, “Jus’ keep ‘em comin, darlin’.” 

Well then, Beth thinks. But she doesn’t show her surprise, just swipes the money off the table with a sweet smile.

She busies herself with her other patrons, refilling drinks and taking food orders. A few servers request beers and cocktails for their tables, and she hurries to fill the orders. Sometimes the servers tip her out at the end of the night - if they’re feeling generous. 

A few more guests meander in, taking seats along the bar. Beth perks up, maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

When she finally gets a slow moment she pours herself a glass of water, draining half of it in one go. She’s used to being on her feet all day - picking up after the kids, cleaning the house, cooking and prepping meals - but bartending really gets her parched.

She can tell her mystery patron is watching her. She’s always had a knack to know when a man is checking her out. 

His drink is empty, and she grabs the top shelf gin. He watches as she pours him another glass. 

“You got a heavy pour,” he says, eyes dragging along the low neckline of her black tank top.

“You look like you’ve had a hard day, no offense,” Beth replies lightly, she tosses him a wink. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

At that the man actually laughs, shaking his head a bit.

“You new?” 

“Yes. I started two weeks ago,” Beth nods, then clears her throat, remembering her manners, she sticks out her hand. “I’m Elizabeth. But everyone calls me Beth.” 

The man looks highly amused, and Beth cannot imagine why.

He takes her hand. “Rio.”

“Nice to meet you, Rio,” Beth says, unable to stop the dusting of pink that begins to smear her cheeks, he really is handsome. “Are you a regular?”

Rio laughs again. “Yeah. Somethin’ like that.” 

Beth nods, unsure of what to say next. She hasn’t flirted in decades. 

“Well your service is very much appreciated.” 

It looks like he’s fighting back another laugh, with the way his lips twitch. And god... his lips...

“So’s yours. Elizabeth.” 

Her natural defense is a smile - always has been - and now is no different. She grins at him in what she hopes is a charming way, but probably looks slightly psychotic. 

“Just holler if you need me,” she says loudly, too loudly, and scurries away to the other end of the bar.

Jesus - Kenny is right. She’s so embarrassing. 

He stays for another hour, has two more drinks. Not that Beth’s counting! Well - she is, it’s her job! 

When she goes to top him off he shakes his head. 

“‘M good, mami. Gotta get goin’,” 

“Oh, okay,” Beth stutters, then on autopilot - “have a wonderful night!” 

He smiles at her, and it’s warm, real. Beth’s stomach does flip flops.

Before she can even register what he’s doing he tosses another hundred on the bar. 

“I thought you said...” she trails off, confused.

“Tha’s for you,” he says with wink of his own, “I’ll see you around, Elizabeth.” 

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Mission // Spencer Reid x Reader

Sooooo this was SUPPOSE to be a blurb for @andiebeaword BUT it ended up being much longer than that, my bad.

Summary - Spencer and Reader must act like a married couple at a party in order to get information on a hitman. They may do more than needed to prove being a married couple.

Word count - 2.7k

Prompts - "If we die, I'm going to kill you." ~~~ "You have a dirty mind." ~~~ "These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." ~~~ "Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."

It was a well-known fact that I loved partnering with Spencer. We could always joke around and make eachother feel better, even when working the bad cases. But I feel like this was a little ridiculous.

"Are you shitting me?" The words slipped from my mouth so easily, which I immediatly regretted. Spencer gave me *the look* and elbowed my side.

"I'm sorry Y/n, you and Spencer are the two people who are the most compatible to seem like a couple, and we need hard proof before we arrest him." Hotch explained with his usual amount of enthusiasm.

None.

"Hotch, this guy is dangerous and we will be in there without vests, is what I believe y/n is trying to say." Spencer leaned back in his seat, flipping through the mans file.

"We will have sharp-shooters pointing through every window at him in case anything gets out of hand. This is non negotiable." And with that, he left.

"Well, clearly we have no choice." I stood from my seat, flattening my skirt. "I'm gonna go home and get an outfit ready. You aren't wearing that to the party either." I pointed to his outfit.

"What's wrong with my outfit?!" He scoffed, hugging his sweater vest.

"Okay, one, this isn't some dingy hole in the wall. And two, even if it was, you don't go to a nice party looking like someone who has 3 PhD's in the first place." The smirk on my lips grew wider as he feigned offense.

"Fine, I'll find something nicer to wear. I'll pick you up at 7 and tell the team to meet us there." I agreed and left the conference room a little grumpy, quickly making a bee line to the elevator before anyone could comment on my mood.

-

I stared at the 3 dresses in front of me. They were all the same style, but different colors.

White, yellow, and olive green.

I wasn't sure why I was having so much trouble picking a *color*. I always say that I dress for myself, which is what I was trying to do right now.

Right?

I totally wasn't thinking back to that conversation I had with Spencer a few weeks ago.

-

*"Y/n!" Emily looked at me with surprise. "You look so beautiful in white! Why don't you wear it more?" She was right, I never wore it. Me and Penelope were pretty known for wearing many colors, mine just had to be paired with a black skirt.*

*"I'm so clumsy." I laughed. "I live in constant fear that I'll spill coffee on it. Hence why I'm not holding a cup of joe."*

*"I agree with Emily, you look nice in white." Spencer chimed in. "You know the psychological meaning of white is purity, innocence, wholeness and completion. In color psychology, white is the color of new beginnings, of wiping the slate clean, so to speak." He then took a sip of his coffee.*

*"Yeah well I don't know about the innocent part." I giggled, looking to Emily who gave me a shrug and nod. Spencer choked a bit on his coffee. "You alright there Spence?" He saluted me and headed to his desk, which put me and Emily into a fit of giggles.*

-

I reluctantly grabbed the white one, silently hoping that I was less of a klutz tonight.

The satin dress slipped on me easily. It came down to about 2 or so inches above my knees and had thin straps. I paired it with some semi-transparent heels and called it a day. I put on a little heavier makeup to look the part. Foundation, winged eyeliner, blush, highlight, and mascara. Lastly, I tied my hair up in a simple straightened pony-tail.

By the time my indecisive ass was done choosing everything, it was nearly 7 and I knew that Spence would be early. My heels clicked as I walked on my wood floors, heading to the front door. Getting there just in time to hear a knock. I must have startled him by opening it so fast because he stumbled back a bit. He wore a nice white button up and tighter pants than usual, paired with nice black oxfords.

And then he just stood there.

I waved my hand in front of his face.

"Hi!" He shook his head a bit. "Hello there, back to Earth I see. Do you wanna come in and have a glass of water before this whole event, since you are," I leaned back into my doorway to look at the time. "12 minutes early?"

"Oh, yeah sure." I cleared the way so he could walk in. I shook the heels from my feet, taking me down at least three inches before stepping into the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses.

"Do you want ice?" I turned to him, he was sitting at my island. He just shook his head. "Okay." I laughed, putting ice in mine and just filling his with water. The glass clinked as it hit the island in front of him. "You're pretty quiet, are you okay?" The tips of his ears reddened.

"Yeah! I'm just a little nervous, you?" He swiftly brought the water to his lips, guzzling it down like he hadn't drank anything in days. He then stood up.

"Of course I'm nervous." I came around to his side of the counter and swooned into his arms. "But I'll have a great protector there." He smiled down at me with a shake of his head, standing me back up.

Now it's time to head out.

-

We pulled up to the location in Spencer's Volvo, which was incredibly nice to ride in. ~~and I would love to get use to riding in it~~.

"Okay, I have one thing to fix with your outfit." I turned to him before we exited the car. His eyes narrowed at this comment. I leaned forward and unbuttoned two buttons. "Now you look like your going to a party."

"Thank you expert. Stay in the car, I'm going to open your door, the bouncer works with him and we have to go all out on this act." He nodded his head at the bouncer a few yards away.

I wish this wasn't an act.

He opened the door, offering his hand. I took it with a gracious smile, interlacing our fingers. We walked up to the bouncer, who had an ipad with the guest list in hand. Penelope had hacked into their list and added our names, well fake names.

"Mr and Mrs. Adler." Spencer spoke as I leaned into his side. The man scrolled through the list, he tapped our names and opened the door.

It opened to a large room, filled with dozens of people. I leaned up on my tippy toes and whispered into Spencer's ear.

"If we die, I'm going to kill you." I pulled away with a smile, patting his shoulder. His Adam's apple bobbed while he gulped. "So, what's this guys networth, I mean he seems pretty damn rich to throw a party like this." He looked down at me quizzically. "I know you know what it is, I'm sure you have researched him extensively. So what is it?"

"6.2 million dollars." He recited, looking towards the crowd, scanning for the man in question.

"Wow, I can't imagine being that rich! How old are his kids, maybe I can date one."

"Be careful what you say, someone might think we are suspicious." He pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my head.

This night is going to be agonizing. "There he is." We made our way to him slowly, stopping at small drink stations. Just as we were about to get to some seats near him, a server came up to us.

"Hello! Welcome. Would you guys like anything?" She handed Spencer a very small menu. I could see the slight confusion in his eyes. It was truly a weird thing to do at such a big party.

*Salad*

*Potato Soup*

*Fruit Bowl*

*Veggie Bowl*

"I'll have a salad, and the lady will have a fruit bowl." He pointed to the seats we were on our way to. "We will be over there. Thank you." He put his hand on the small of my back, leading us to the seats.

"How did you know I wanted a fruit bowl?"

"You bring some kind of fruit cup to work every day, I'm observant." Right as we were about to sit down, another couple took the seats, not even noticing that we were heading there.

"Well damn. I say we stand next to his table until our food gets here, then we go to the other corner of the room and observe, then we catch him making the deal." I led him to the space by the table. After just a few minutes of waiting, the young lady who took our orders he returned, holding a small bowl of salad and a fruit bowl.

"Have a good night!" She chimed, how can someone be so happy with so many people around?

We ventured to the other side of the room, I grabbed two glasses of champagne from another server on the way. I peered at Spencer over the skinny glass, he was staring at his salad.

"What, is there something wrong?"

"Why is there so much white stuff on it? It's not ranch, I know what ranch looks like." My giggle was muffled slightly by the glass.

"That's what she said." He raised one eyebrow. Then a look of realization came over his face.

"You have a dirty mind." He mixed together the salad to distribute the 'white stuff'. We subtly stared every once in a while over at the mans table.

His name was Anton Todd, but his customers called him Ton. He was someone who frequently assassinated people. He was a hitman to be exact. We had an outside source tell us that a new customer would be coming in to request business, so we could kill two birds with one stone.

So far the man we knew as Cole Kamargo had not come to ask for Antons *services* yet. We had been standing in this corner of the room for a while, just watching him. That's when I caught his eye.

His gaze was terrifying, it struck me right through my soul, and I just couldn't stop looking. He squinted at me, tilting his head. Spencer shook my shoulder.

"Y/n, stop staring at him." It was like being lost in someone's eyes in the worst way possible. I watched as he stood from the table, making his way over with a sour look on his face.

"Shit shit shit shit." I mumbled as he got closer.

"Shit is right. Do you trust me?" I kept my eyes on the man.

"Of course." He grabbed my hips, pushing me against the wall behind us and kissed me hard. He trailed his left hand up to the back of my neck, holding me there. I gasped in surprise, leading him to slip his tongue in my mouth. Meaning we were full on making out. I pushed my hands into his hair, gladly accepting the kiss and sighing into it. Suddenly, Spencer was pulled from me. And there he stood.

Anton.

"Tell your girl to stop fuckin' staring at me." He spat, glaring at me.

"Sorry sir, my wife has ADHD, she zones out frequently." He rushed to my side and pulled me into his side protectively. Anton rolled his eyes and left the area.

I looked up at Spencer, his cheeks were a deep shade of red, and he was touching his lips.

"Thank you. Also, you're a good kisser." I remarked, nudging his side a bit. He looked down at me with wide eyes. "What? Am I not allowed to compliment your kissing? It's good!" I laughed heartily, looping my arm into his.

"Ditto." A smile grew on his lips. I could get use to this. Spencer noticed an available seat near us, so he sat patting his lap.

"Excuse me?"

"Come sit on my lap!" He chuckled.

"I'm glad your getting use to the idea of me being your *wife*." I sat on his lap, leaning my head back onto his shoulder. My hands made their way to the heel of my foot, slightly slipping my shoe off. "These heels are from Satan I think." I rubbed at the sore skin.

"My tag is itchy." Spencer pulled at his collar, relieving the so called *itch*.

"These heels are peeling off my **skin**. But yes, keep complaining about your tag you whine ass." He turned his head to me, kissing my cheek.

"I'm sorry, I can put some neosporin on it when we get home. I mean, when we get-get you home." He stuttered, the tips of his ears once again turning an extravagant shade of red. I kissed his jaw.

"Thank you *baby*." We were then interrupted by a woman next to us.

"How long have you guys been married?" The lady leaned over the booth, a ring was clearly shown on her finger.

"8 years." I answered quickly, before Spencer could say a contradicting answer.

"Wow! You guys look so young to be together so long. How do you guys keep it so... so beautiful?" She tilted her head at the question.

"What do you mean?" I asked, reaching my hand into Spencer's hair and playing with it momentarily.

"You seem so in love. You act like teenagers, I don't think I've looked that in love with my husband since we first met." She huffed.

"You just have to find someone who's easy to love." He leaned his head on mine. "I've never had a doubt in my mind that she was the one." The words stuck with me, I felt like they would be embedded in my soul for eternity.

"I think I need to get a divorce." She sunk into the seat, I watched as her husband come back and sat with her, she gave him a weak smile.

"Okay, we need to leave this area before we become homewreckers." I whispered, pulling him to his feet and fleeing into another direction. "We must be amazing actors." I laughed nervously.

"Yeah, actors." He murmered, but before I could comment on it, I saw Cole making his way to Anton.

"Spencer! It's Cole!" I screeched quietly. We discreetly made our way near the table, quickly catching the conversation and relaying it to Hotch.

Cole spoke of the horrible things he wanted done to his wife, it made me sick.

"FBI, get on the ground!" I pulled my gun from the left holster that Spencer had for me. I couldn't exactly *hide* a gun on this white dress. Spencer pulled his gun as well.

"We have you surrounded by sharpshooters aimed and ready to fire, so I suggest that you comply." Morgan came in soon, cuffing the both of them and leading the men to cars.

We now remained outside, sitting on the stairs of the large building.

"I enjoyed being your husband for a night." Spencer laughed, nudging my shoulder.

"And I enjoyed being your wife." I played with the fake ring on my finger. "Okay. Fuck it. Did you mean any of the things you said in there?" The words spat from my mouth quickly.

"Like what?" His voice was shaky.

"Like, that you never had a doubt that I was the one. Or was that part of the act. I would totally understand if it was, you're an amazing actor if it was because it honestly had me believing-" He put his finger to my lips.

"Yes, I meant it."

"Thank God." I grabbed his jaw with both hands and brought him to my lips. He smiled into the kiss, deepening it. His hands ran up and down my back slowly.

"I wouldn't mind doing this every day." He remarked, gesturing between our lips.

"I wouldn't either pretty boy."

[limelocked]

Sundial blurbs

So most of my part of the Sundial au has been locked into general au chat on our server in the form of joking, theorising and sometimes writing as much as the discord character limit allows me to. I did the two first blurbs in this post today and @pomodoko commanded i actually post it and tag them so here they are, sorted into story chronological order and not the order in which i wrote them

Also this is the link to the document with general information on the AU

--- Dreams POV, the inciting incident

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8- NINE It has been ten seconds since Fundy landed at the bottom of the stairs at the lowest level of the building, there had been a noticeable thud that sounded distinctly unpleasant but Dream hadn't picked up on any cracking noise that'd indicate broken bones. Not that it'd be easy to hear over the commotion that led to later events.

Because it'd been seven seconds since Techno had lost his balance because of the falling fox mentioned and seven seconds since he stood back straight, almost brushing against Wilburs taller frame. It had only been five short seconds, that might have felt like weeks to others, since Wilbur in turn furrowed his brow and geared up for retaliation. Four seconds ago techno had been pushed. Three, Wilbur had gone into the wrong portal. Two, Philza had with Fundy still leaning on his shoulder tried to stop them both. One, they were gone.

It was surreal. The room had been filled with chatter before the fight, louder during the fight and now it was quiet. One second in the future, after it had all happened, the silence broke by no one who had seen it happen but by Tommy, babbling on about something with Fundy that didn't matter to anyone but himself. He quieted down when the person he was intending to talk to was nowhere to be found, confused. "Where'd Fundy go?"

"He and Wilbur already went through" the lack of effort it took for Dream to bend that truth would be concerning if not for his record, and technically they already had. "Oh-" an unsatisfactory answer but not one that would send him towards the throat of Noxite. "You can just talk to them back home. Come on." The portal after the hermits was supposed to be theirs, something quickly confirmed as they enter the community house with a crisis averted, or rather pushed back until a later date, and two people lost to another server.

--- Omniscient/Unknown POV, the dreamsmp aftermath

un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf... sept, huit, neuf... sept, huit... Seven hours later was when the lie couldn't hold anymore. Tommy already didn't trust Dream much but Tubbo had been a help in convincing him that Wilbur and Fundy were just away building or something. But the truth comes eventually. He sent a clear message of; <TommyInnIt> stop lying to me

Hour eight was the worst, accusations being thrown and swords being drawn. Screaming and explanations that never really felt enough. The ninth hour was bad in another way, depressing. Tommy's anger had simmered into bargaining as if Dream, George or Tubbo had the power to do anything of substance. It never got to begging, Tommy's pride forbade that but the things he put on the line for help that he couldn't get made it almost seem like it.

Noxcrew was contacted and they confirmed that the hemits had talked to them about the guests. Solutions were suggested and just as quickly rebuffed. Hour ten was a loss and the eleventh hour was one where Tommy and Tubbo got to speak alone.

"Can't you just use your powers or whatever to make the portals take us to hermitcraft" he was exhausted. "It doesn't work like that, probably, and Noxite has probably already tried it" "Yeah but Tubbo could you do it?" "I mean... maybe?" To that something glinted in Tommys eye, hope that Tubbo didn't want to extinguish as fast as it needed to be. "But I'm not allowed into the MCC world anyways so it wouldn't work" "FUCKING CHRIST TUBBO everyone here's useless!"

--- Technos POV, first night on hermitcraft

It's the first night and bones tower above him.

There were other buildings around, and the area was lit up well but eyes followed him from the darkness, eying the stone tools he'd manage to scrape up while leaving the group now probably settled in a warm house far away. This world scared him, the monsters and the way his sword hit differently, and the fact that the air itself felt new.

A pair of eyes glowed at him from it's place under one of the ribs of a beast too huge to want to think about. Techno readied his sword, but the dog decided that it'd rather go back to sleep. This world scared him and he just knew he'd gotten lost now because his goal had been to retrace his steps, the path that Xisuma and Bdoubleo had shown them to the little village far away by boat, to find the house cleft in two and then head straight out to sea until he could find a better place to stay than the tension thick cabin that their hosts had suggested.

Another dog offered a quiet bark in his direction and with an embarrassed sssh, covering fright, he continued forward. He had found the water, true, and he remembered something vague about a neighbour... but... No. No he decided that he'd choose a direction and if there weren't any light he'd just have to turn around or dock and make a little cave to live out of. It wouldn't be glorious but neither is 5 million potatoes.

A boat is placed into the water at the straight of Joebralta and a pig starts to row.

Clang. He is confused. The boat shakes in the middle of open water, he's been turned around. Clang. A trident, something he's only really seen in Skyblockle, shoots into the air a meter to the right of his boat. He speeds up. Clang. It misses, but he has decided that the sea is no longer safe.

--- Technos and Ethos POV, the first days in hermitcraft

He's starting to feel bad for leaving. Still justified, but also bad. He felt horrible the instant the championship room disappeared from right in front of his eyes with Wilbur still in it, and still worse when Wilbur then Phil and Fundy appeared next to him in this world, all statues as unseen confused messages fill the communicators of the worlds inhabitants.

When they arrived he was surprised that a lot of the hermits knew about them, or at least him, from the returning cast of hermits that played in MCC and their apparent tendency to tell stories as soon as there was space for it. It'd made it less awkward but the looks from the others stopped him from talking much about his side of the tournaments.

This was perhaps night four? He had stepped ashore in a jungle a bit from an area he could almost feel at home in with its skyscrapers reminiscent of some survival games arenas. But it was built by someone and someone should be avoided so he had trudged through plains and deserts walking around it only to find more tall buildings in another jungle.

The jungle was... safe? Safe from people at least, less so mobs. He had a little cave with a bed now that kept the hot and humid air out most of the time and while small and cramped and utterly horrible it felt far safer than returning to the others... even though he could practically hear Phils calm and nonchalant reassurances.

Leaving the small home he searches for the water he remembers spotting nearby. The bright orange tracksuit wasn't something he wanted to wear but there wasn't much of anything else and it still needed to be washed of stone dust and sweat no matter how much he disliked it. He leaves with a compass and map to find his way back, and around other peoples territory. And water is found easily with these. Stone, coal and redstone is scrubbed away in the freshwater lake that's only relatively cold, but it still feels nice, like the wind on his island in skyblock or in the skywars arenas.

Not too far away a man is working in a terrarium of his own design containing no animals but currents in thin snakes coiling around comparators and observers. The change to the nether has been an exciting one but it did come with problems for the technicians and thankfully for this one the Google hasn't broken too far beyond belief and is back in functioning order faster than expected.

Satisfied he looks at the path that he paradoxically want to end and to continue and decides to wait, flying up to sit near his portal instead to think about it and access the expansions he's already made. Something bright orange is spotted in the distance which at first is ignored, it can wait, until the realization of a possible abandoned shulker, so very common in this group, grabs him and almost instantly leaves as it moves around.

Several seconds later the orange turns brighter and the idea of lava pops in and out of his head in a flash.

<Etho> Beef have to lost an orange llama? <VintageBeef> no? <VintageBeef> at least I dont think so...? <Etho> o_o

He's been keeping out of the way for a while, like usual, and only knew some of the news about new people on the server. That they'd gotten there with Rendogs sports gang by accident and that they'd been living mostly over at Bdubs' place to avoid having them be excluded to their own little village. Apparently something had happened, he'd missed the details but it was looking like there was a manhunt for someone or something that he should by all means be more invested in.

Curious he misses the orange go out of view in favour of finding out about this missing thing in case he's found it. A person and a description, hidden deep in other messages. His height, human pig hybrid, last seen wearing...

Does he want to do this? He knows his way around a jungle but it's still annoying and Xisuma lives close by... but he's most likely AFK. Well, you make a good first impression on the new guys if you find their missing friend.

--- Omniscient/Unclear POV, Technos time with Etho

Silence is golden in silver light. The hermits can stay up days on end without sleep, working through nights when it’s needed and even with guests this doesn’t change. Like the sliver of moon in the sky, Ethos hair glows radiant from inside the redstone machine he calls the Googler and Techno does nothing but look on as repeaters are moved and redstone is smeared in new paths into blocks he has never seen before, something he’s had to get used to lately.

His host works in silence until a question breaks the jungles chime and an answer is given with the rhythm. The redstone had changed and he thought he had fixed it, an unhelpful follow up is posed and a pause is moved into a somewhat oversimplified version of the circuit. They both know that Techno is no help here, but the company is nice and something is learned.

Etho in the day when working the fortress tells Techno about the old days and in turn Techno admits to never having left those old days for long. Etho talks about Pause and Beef. Techno fails to talk about his own team.

[beetleboo]

long post. one i’ve been trying to make for a while now. hell, i wrote this like... third week of may. didn’t post it until now because i didn’t know if I wanted to.

but something i want to lay out, been wanting to lay out for months. dont want to talk to anyone about it, just want to put the info out there for it to be seen.

if you re/blog this i will block you. i may put this on the relevant sideblog at some point.

because 2020 was the worst year on record for me for a number of reasons, and it’s torn me down to the lowest point i’ve been in a long time, and this is just. everything that’s gone down. not a callout post, no one gets named, but these are all the events

partially in relation to my fandom sideblog, because that’s where i had community, and where it’s all just. gone. doesnt exist anymore.

i started up a server, ages ago now. somewhere i curated to be a positive and safe space for things, and for a while, it was that.

around the end of 2019, spilling over to the start of 2020 when it picked up, i found, both on my blog and in discord spaces, in particular the server i ran, that people no longer talked to me. no one would hold a conversation with me past a few basic responses, no one replied to anything i shared, no one engaged when i tried to start discussions. so i pulled back from the main server - S1. thought it was just a lull in activity. stayed that way for weeks, months, and I just muted the server. no one ever cared about anything i had to say. was lucky if anything i posted got even a token emoji react

was in another, smaller server - S2. people i talked to damn near every day, even in voice. played games together - that became... no fun simply because everyone else was so much better/further ahead in the game. i was completely useless, so didn’t server a function in game and never really felt like anyone actively wanted me around, but i still participated in chat.

but again, no one ever responded to anything I posted beyond maybe a token react

couple people discussing something one day. I contributed with Theory A, and quite immediately got that shut down. few minutes later, they rephrased exactly what I said and happily nattered away. so whatever I said wasn’t worth it when it came out of my mouth but if they talked about it, it was all well and valid. so again, between that specific experience and no one interacting with me, nor anything I post. server muted. treatment taught me no one cared about my presence there.

gave admin rights to S1, my server, to someone I trusted. two requests only: dont delete channels and let me know if you want to invite anyone (since I kept it private)

RYE (i’m just assigning random three letter names to people to keep this straight) posted public invites several times. never asked me. one of the two things i asked. brought it up with them that it bothered me, just got vague noncomittal responses. more public invites. eventually, after having the server muted for months, i handed over full control and left. that was almost a full year ago. none of the people have talked to me in that entire year, through discord or here or anything.

except RYE who sent me a message after a couple months like ‘wow i havent heard from you in a while hope you’re doing ok’. i wasn’t. after a bit but still the same day, i said as much. that i wasn’t doing well. they never responded. and i don’t mean like, they didn’t respond that day. i mean i literally never heard from them until months later when they sent me a meme and also didn’t respond to me commenting on that meme.

and this is one side of things. all of the above was the first half of the year. this next bit happened about. march2020? I was in another server - S3. another place that was a good space at the time. was in voice chat with two other people. started talking about one thing. MIN very suddenly said something along the lines of ‘i don’t care about this i’ll come back when you’re done’

this is one of the very few things that can trigger me - i’ve had a lot of people talk down to me if I dare look excited about anything. when they came back, i asked if they could try to just. depart conversations more softly. MIN always said ‘if i do anything hurtful to you just tell me! i dont want to do that kind of thing!’

this was clearly a lie as they exploded on me, telling me they always have to walk on eggshells around me, that I ask so many things from them. before what I asked them that day, I can only recall one other thing i asked (which was not to talk about a person who was abusive towards me, and they were like ‘yea sure np’ about that, over a year prior’)

the whole thing turned into basically me having to shut down the fact that i was hurt by what they did, had to ignore that now and i had to fawn and placate them and the only thing i got out of that was that my feelings were irrelevant, only theirs.

(incidentally, I have had two other people turn on me in similar ways, accusing me of doing shifty/bad/terrible things, and not being willing to tell me what they are when I ask, only saying that ‘i should know what i did’ so that’s also now a Fun New Bit Of Trauma.)

and that entire weeklong event lead me straight to a breakdown. literal genuine breakdown i cannot convey how devastating that entire scenario was without going into far too many details.

so between all of these things happening in less than six months, with three different community spaces folding and collapsing and fading away from me, with many of the friends i thought i had just. moving on to other things and dropping me. people i talked to every day just not bothering with me anymore. they all have gone on to other stuff and no one ever went ‘hey beets wanna see what i’m up to’ or ‘wanna do this thing with me’

a handful of instances of me saying ‘yeah i’m dealing with these fears that have been reinforced lately that people aren’t safe to deal with, even thought part of me knows they’re probably irrational it feels like i have evidence to back it up’ and people immediately take it personally like i’m saying they’re not safe. despite. me outright saying. i know logically it should be irrational. but their reactions just reinforce it so it’s just a loop and tells me, again, never to bring up any of my problems with anyone.

so this all just reinforces that there’s something wrong with me. couple years back i spoke to a friend and how i was frustrated that I seemed to end up in bad spaces and they said ‘well you’re the one thing in common so its probably your fault’ and obviously they’re not my friend anymore but that has affected me so deeply. i can’t do anything without overthinking, whenever anything goes wrong i tear apart everything i’ve done and everything i’ve said or thought and i don’t know why things keep going bad. i try so hard but i’m just. not right.

so it all teaches me that there’s no point in reaching out in trying to talk to people because if i say ‘hey this hurt me’ i get ignored at best or torn down, yelled at, scolded. no point in trying to talk to new people because everyone just walks away at some point. not even a natural drift apart, i can handle that. but just very suddenly, they’re gone, off with better people doing better things.

roundabout, ties back to ‘consumption versus community’ - this is why i’ve been struggling so hard with lack of engagement on my sideblog. lucky to get a dozen notes on anything i make, unless it’s something other people can use (like mods) and even THEN it’s rare to see much activity. and that was FINE because i had people to talk to elsewhere, who would ask questions and we could back and forth and i shared my stuff and they shared those and it didnt matter if my posts only got a dozen notes because i had friends to talk to.

now i get (example) seven notes, six of which are likes and one is a reblog with no commentary. when i have something with a ton of notes, still, minimal commentary, no one talks to me. even on a mod with five hundred notes it just feels like i went ‘hey i made something :)’ and everyone picked it up and walked away with it, no one went ‘hey this is cool i want to talk to the person who made it.’

and it just feels like 95% of the time, i’m just overlooked. 

and it’s worse than it’s ever been in my entire life, and I wonder, what’s the point of any of this anymore.

why bother to make the posts to share when it all just gets passed by. what’s the point in trying to reach out to new people and make friends when i get lashed out at or left behind? the social is gone out of my social media. i had community, and now it’s gone.

so this has all been going on for months and months and months and hey! suffering. and i dont expect it to get any better, don’t expect this post to fix these issues, but i’ve been trying to say something about all of this for fucking months and i think just, laying it all out is all I can do about it. i’m sure i’ve forgotten some things to touch on but as it is, all these events, all of it happening all together. new traumas, old traumas reawoken, reinforced, i’ve been torn to pieces i don’t know how to function, i can’t remember the last time i felt like even half a real person. taught that the safe, positive spaces that meant so much to me don’t actually exist and they’ll all turn on me and be torn away. nowhere is safe anymore, and trying to make it safe is just going to ruin me again.

people aren’t safe, places aren’t safe, been proven to me time and time again so i just. stay away.

no matter how much i try to fight that, it just doesnt work.

anyway tl;dr beets needs therapy probably

[law-of-excluded-middle]

we have to stop meeting like this - part four (of four)

I wrote (part of) a fic for the Witcher Bog (@thewitcherbog) Discord server's July fic train event! I'm really grateful to the Bog for this opportunity to ease gently into writing fanfic, since this is really new for me :')

I was the caboose of the fic train, so if you've been following along, I hope you enjoy how it ends! And thanks for reading!

–

Ship: Lambden

Rating: T

Summary: Lambert, an angry apartment-dweller, deals with an uninvited guest. Repeatedly.

Written for @thewitcherbog train event with @all-hail-the-witcher, @king-finnigan and @jaskierswolf

Words: 5k (part four: 1.5k)

Part one, two, three, four (this one!) - AO3

Aiden, apparently, did a little bit of everything.

“Mostly gig stuff. Food delivery, grocery shopping, odd jobs... I build people’s flatpack furniture for them,” he rattled off. “Cat-sitting,” he added when Bastard, who had just come back inside through the open window, slinked over to him and bumped her head against his shoulder.

Aiden looked at the cat with such tender adoration in his eyes that it made Lambert feel almost uncomfortably warm, and he had to look away as Aiden continued. “I do some regular work for the community garden downtown, and I’m part of a pottery co-op.”

“Pottery? What, d’ya, like, sell shit on Etsy?” Lambert said between slurps of noodles.

A wry smile played on Aiden’s lips. “No,” he answered. “But I usually put in some hours at the winter craft market, peddling mugs and decorative plates, that sort of thing.” He paused. “As far as seasonal work goes, I imagine it’s a better deal than selling Christmas trees in the Home Depot parking lot,” he said, his smile growing into a teasing grin.

“Whoa,” Lambert said, starting. He felt his pulse race. “How do – how do you know where I work? Have you seriously been stalking me?” For the first time, he felt genuinely apprehensive in the presence of his mysterious guest.

But Aiden just laughed. “You’re joking, right?” Lambert scowled, which made Aiden laugh some more. “Your apron is hanging on the rack by the door. Your bright orange apron.”

Lambert whipped his head toward the door, then jerked it back around, and Aiden let out another peal of laughter. Lambert’s face was so hot he felt sweat beading on his forehead. He clenched his teeth, puffing up to defend himself, or at least to say something cutting and uncharitable, draw the focus away from his own cartoonish overreaction.

But one look at Aiden, leaning back on his hands where they were planted on the floor behind him, his head tossed back, shoulders shaking, and Lambert’s chagrin vanished like smoke before he had a chance to get properly worked up. “Oh, blame me for being suspicious of the guy who keeps breaking into my place,” he grumbled.

Still grinning, Aiden cocked his head. “Haven’t we already been over this? I don’t break in, I have a copy of your key.” His eyes sparkled deviously. “You’ll never guess where I had it made.” He glanced pointedly toward the coat rack once again before meeting Lambert’s gaze, his mouth quirked playfully.

“What, at my Home Depot?” Lambert demanded incredulously. Aiden answered with a toothy smile. “Unbelievable,” Lambert huffed. “How did you – when did you even get your hands on my key to copy it? – No, never mind, I don’t even care. What I’m more interested to know is how the hell this all started.”

Aiden’s eyes widened innocently. “How what all started?” But then he broke into a grin – that mischievous grin that Lambert was too quickly getting used to, and growing fond of – and sighed, apparently settling in for a story. “Let’s see, the first time I was here, that was a few weeks ago, right?”

“Weeks? Weeks?” This was news to Lambert. He had only become aware of Aiden’s drop-ins in the last ten days or so.

“Ah, right, right – you know, I think it was actually three weeks ago to the day! Imagine that,” Aiden continued, smiling beatifically, as if Lambert hadn’t even spoken. “Well... this story does not paint me in the most flattering light, actually…”

“Imagine that,” Lambert echoed dryly. “The story of the first time you broke into my apartment – and that was a break-in, I don’t even want to hear you try to deny it – and you’re telling me you don’t come out looking like the hero?”

“I’m not sure I see what you’re getting at,” Aiden said primly, not looking at Lambert. “Well, the short of it is, I’d gotten into a bit of a disagreement with some gentlemen that evening, and that turned into more of a scrap, which quickly gave way to a brawl. And I decided that the most civilized thing for me to do was to bow out gracefully.”

“So, you ran away,” Lambert said, for clarification.

“Like a bat out of hell,” Aiden confirmed with a smirk that was somehow both arrogant and self-deprecating. Lambert felt warm again. “Look, it wasn’t my finest hour. These guys were big, and I’m pretty agile, but I know when I’m outmatched.”

Aiden paused to hum thoughtfully. “Now, you on the other hand…” he continued. “If it had been you in my place, I imagine you could have taken them.” He smiled a tiny, devious little smile and curled forward, reaching out to wrap a hand around Lambert’s biceps. It flexed in his grip and his smile grew wide. “Yes, I’m quite sure,” he purred.

Lambert felt very warm. “Yeah, I’m. Uh. I, I guess I’m pretty good in a scrap. I, you know, I.” He flexed his arm again. “Move a lotta wood.”

“I bet you do,” Aiden murmured, leaning even further into Lambert’s space and looking up at him through his dense, dark eyelashes.

“Lumber,” Lambert hastened to clarify. “At. Fucking – At Home Depot. You know. Dimensional lumber, and pressure-treated pine, and like six kinds of plywood. OSB. MDF. You name it.” He grimaced.

Aiden was openly delighted at how flustered Lambert was getting, but he seemed to take pity on him. With a parting squeeze, he let go of Lambert’s arm and resumed eating his noodles, the picture of innocence.

“Let’s see – right, so I made my strategic exit and found myself hiding up your fire escape. Saw this little one get in through a half-open window” – he scratched behind the cat’s ears and she rubbed her face against his hand shamelessly – “and I figured I could use a place to lie low for an hour or two, so.” Aiden shrugged. He set his takeout container aside on the coffee table and scooped Bastard into his lap.

“Okay, that doesn’t explain why you kept coming back,” Lambert pointed out.

And there was that condescending smirk again. “Well, this part of the story isn’t so flattering for you,” he said.

Lambert scowled, which probably wasn’t very flattering for him, either.

Aiden sighed, still smiling. “I got such a strong impression of loneliness, just from being in your apartment for a few hours. And I thought you could use a friend. Who doesn’t want to make a new friend?” He looked so sweet and earnest for a moment that Lambert lost his train of thought.

But it came back. “Are you telling me you made a copy of my key so you could keep hanging around my apartment, because you pitied me?” he asked, baffled.

Aiden pouted just a little. “I wouldn’t say pitied, no. But come on, the tower of identical takeout containers” – he gestured pointedly to the one out of which Lambert was still eating – “seemed a bit sad. You needed some novelty in your life!”

Lambert stared at him. Objectively, this was batshit behavior.

And yet, he couldn’t find himself feeling anything but want. It had been so long since Lambert could remember wanting, or wanting anything new, anyway. He didn’t want to fight it.

“You’re definitely novel, I’ll give you that,” Lambert said at last. “So, what now? Because I gotta be honest with you,” he paused, “we really have to stop meeting like this.”

Aiden broke into a toothy grin. “Now? I think I ought to head home,” he said, rolling his shoulders back and stretching languidly. “And tomorrow, I think you should take me out for breakfast.”

“I have work in the morning,” Lambert protested.

“No you don’t,” Aiden replied without missing a beat.

“Damn, it really is a little creepy how well you know my schedule.”

Aiden laughed wickedly as he stood up, and Lambert followed. “I don’t have a car, will you drive? I can meet you here at ten, how’s that?”

“You don’t have a –? Never mind. Yeah, ten’s fine.” He had to wonder how the guy managed to work all these delivery gigs without a car, but they didn’t need to get into it right now; he had a feeling that it would take him some time to figure out how the hell Aiden operated, and he thought, with a fluttery sort of hope, that he would have that time.

Lambert walked Aiden to the door, and Aiden looked up at him coyly.

“I’ll have you know, Lambert, that I’m not one to kiss on the first date,” he said with affected sternness.

Lambert choked a little, startled, his face heating up rapidly. “Uh-huh, well, that’s fine, I won’t be uhh, expecting anything just for buying you breakfast,” he stammered.

Aiden just narrowed his eyes and smirked. “That’s what tonight was for: now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, I might be expecting something after you buy me breakfast.” He raised his eyebrows slyly and then slipped out the door, leaving Lambert feeling entirely too warm.

If this all worked out, he thought, they were going to have to come up with a better story about how they met.

[6knotty6thotty6]

So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)

Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:

Moonstruck: 

This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.

When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion. 

Anyway.

This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered,  was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.

I thought, "What a load of bullshit."

A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.

A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."

When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it. 

I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it." 

Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got. 

"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"

"Sure!"

"Mom, can I have a car?"

"No problem!"

"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"

"Absolutely!"

She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it. 

At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.

But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat. 

My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes. 

I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not. 

I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled. 

It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway. 

I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.

I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."

But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you? 

Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late! 

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 11 - Thank You, David Guetta

Prompt from Tumblr user Anonymous: Beca meets one of her biggest inspirations, David Guetta. She fangirls and insists on thanking him b/c if it wasn't for him she never would've met the love of her life, Chloe. I made a minor change in the prompt; I hope you like what I did with it.

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

"Chloe! Are you home?" Beca called out as she entered the house she shared with her girlfriend, Chloe. "Chloe!"

No answer. Beca pulled out her phone and flopped down on the couch.

LoveOfMyLife: Where are you? I got some awesome news today and can't wait to tell you about it.

Beca sent the text off and threw her phone down next to her. Beca heard a noise and looked down at her phone, only to realize the sound was Chloe's key being inserted in the door. Beca jumped up and ran to the door.

"Hey, babe," Chloe called out, stopping short when she almost ran into Beca who was standing right in front of her. "Oh, I just saw your text. What's the good news?"

"Not just good news," Beca said. "Awesome news."

"Okay," Chloe said, chuckling. "What's your awesome news?"

"First things first," Beca said, pulling Chloe to her.

Beca kissed Chloe and Chloe kissed her back.

"Thanks for that," Chloe said. "What's your news?"

"Guess where we're going to be on Christmas Day night?"

"Um, at Aubrey's with the Bellas?"

"What? Noooo," Beca whined. "I mean we'll be with them for most of the afternoon. And we'll be leaving early to go to, are you ready for this? 'Cause, it's huge!"

Chloe walked over and sat on the sofa as she laughed at Beca's excitement. "I'm ready for it. Tell me where we're going to be."

"We, as in you and I," Beca said, joining Chloe on the sofa. "Are going to be at a special Awards Dinner for David Guetta."

"David Guetta?" Chloe squealed. "Is this for real?"

"Yes," Beca said. "David Guetta is getting some kind of special award. Theo and Khaled asked me to represent the studio since they'll both be out of town for Christmas."

"I'm so happy for you, babe," Chloe said, kissing Beca's cheek. "I know how much you admire David Guetta and how big an influence he was in you getting into music."

"I can't wait to meet him," Beca said. "It's like a dream come true."

"I can't wait to see you fangirl when you do meet him," Chloe said, laughing.

"I do not fangirl," Beca said, looking shocked.

"Yeah, you kinda do," Chloe said, pulling Beca into a kiss. "You get all awkward and say awkward things. But, that's okay. I think you're adorable when you're awkward."

~~ Day 11 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Three weeks later on Christmas morning, Beca and Chloe sitting around with the Bellas at Aubrey and Stacie's. The friends enjoyed watching Stacie's daughter, Bella, open her gifts.

The Bellas had finished exchanging and opening their gifts when Beca leaned over to Chloe and whispered, "Are you ready to go? Our glam team should be at our place soon."

"I'm ready," Chloe said. "I need to say goodbye to Brey and Stacie."

"Let's do it," Beca said, standing and holding out her hand to Chloe.

"Sorry, guys, but we have to go," Chloe said to the group.

"Aww, can't you stay longer?" Emily asked.

"I wish we could," Beca said. "But, we have to get ready for the Awards Dinner."

"Brey, thanks to you and Stacie for hosting," Chloe said, wrapping her best friend in a hug.

"I'm just glad you two could still come," Aubrey said. "I know how much you were looking forward to attending this dinner."

"And meeting David Guetta," Stacie added.

"Damn straight," Beca said, smiling brightly.

"We'll see the rest of you later," Chloe said to the rest of the group.

After more hugs, goodbyes, and see you laters, Beca and Chloe left.

~~ Day 11 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

Beca and Chloe were ready and their limo was waiting outside.

"Let's go, Becs," Chloe called from the front door.

"I forgot my lipstick," Beca called out as she hurried up the stairs.

About a minute later, Beca was coming back down the stairs.

"Let's do this," Beca said and she took Chloe's hand and walked out the door.

It was a short drive to the venue and the limo queued up to drop Beca and Chloe at the red carpet.

"I didn't know this was going to be such a big deal," Chloe said as they waited their turn to exit their limo.

"I don't think it is usually," Beca said, looking out the limo window at the crowd. "But, I think David Guetta and Beyonce might have something to do with the crowd."

"Beyonce is going to be here?" Chloe asked.

"So, I've been told," Beca said. "I don't think she's performing though."

"Who is performing?" Chloe asked. "I mean besides David Guetta."

"I don't know," Beca said. " Everything's been kind of hush-hush."

The limo pulled up to the red carpet and the limo door was opened. Beca got out first and reached out her hand to help Chloe exit.

The paparazzi were ready for them and flashes started going off, temporarily blinding them.

"Just keep hold of my hand," Beca whispered to Chloe.

A photographer would yell out, "Beca! Over here!" and Beca and Chloe would stop and pose for photos before moving on.

The couple finally made it inside and are shown to their table.

"Beca, there's David Guetta," Chloe said, pointing at the man sitting at the table they were being led to. "We're sitting with David Guetta."

"I see," Beca said, as they reached the table.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" Chloe asked. "We're sitting at the same table as your idol, THE David Guetta."

"Beca, it's good to see you again," David Guetta said, standing as he spoke.

"Again?" Chloe asked, looking at Beca with an arched brow.

"Yeah," Beca said. "We met at the studio last week. He's friends with Khaled."

"And you must be Chloe," David asked. "I've heard a lot about you."

"David Guetta," Beca said. "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Chloe Beale. Chloe, this is David Guetta."

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Guetta," Chloe said.

"It's nice to meet you, Chloe," David said. "And, please call me David."

Beca pulled out Chloe's chair and Chloe sat down.

"Thanks, babe," Chloe whispered.

Beca took the seat next to her and Chloe looked over at David.

"So, David," Chloe said. "Beca didn't tell me she already met you at Khaled's studio. Did she fangirl over you?"

"Chloe!" Beca squealed, blushing as she looked over at David.

"She did somewhat," David said, grinning at Beca. "It was actually cute and endearing. Although, she did tell me I smelled like cookies, which I found a little odd."

"Cookies?" Chloe asked, laughing.

"Yeah," David said, laughing as well. "I'm still not sure how what she meant by it."

"I don't know what I meant by it either," Beca said, her cheeks red.

"What else did she say?" Chloe asked, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin in her hand.

"I don't know if I should tell you this part.," David said. "Mainly, because I'm not sure I believe it actually happened.

"Go ahead and tell," Chloe said. "We're all friends now."

"Did you really barge into her shower to make her sing Titanium with you?"

"Oh, my God," Chloe said, covering her face with her hands. "I can't believe she told you that."

"So, it did happen," David said, laughing at how bright Beca's cheeks were.

"Sorry, babe," Beca said. "I just wanted him to know how special you are to me."

"Again, I thought it was both funny and adorable," David said, chuckling. "I tried to convince Beca to sing Titanium tonight, but she had a different song in mind."

"You're performing tonight?!" Chloe yelled, slapping Beca on the arm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Ow," Beca said, rubbing her arm. She turned and glared at David. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Sorry," David said, putting up his hands in surrender. "My apologies for ruining your surprise."

"It's okay, dude," Beca said. "You're David Guetta, and I can forgive you this one transgression. You are the sole reason I wanted to become a music producer. Being a singed just kind of happened."

"I do recall you mentioning that when we met," David said. "Besides, I didn't tell her about-"

Beca's hand shot up and covered David's mouth.

"Dude, seriously," Beca said. "You promised you wouldn't say anything to Chloe about that."

"About what, Becs," Chloe asked, leaning over to whisper in Beca's ear. "What are you hiding from me?"

A shiver ran down Beca's spine as Chloe's breath caressed her neck just below her ear.

"Surprise, remember?" Beca managed to squeak out.

Chloe blew softly in Beca's ear, causing another shiver to run through her.

"Okay, okay," Beca said. "I'll tell you. David and I are talking about collaborating on a few songs together."

"Oh, my God, Beca," Chloe said, pulling Beca into a side hug. "That's huge news. I'm so proud of you."

Chloe turned Beca's head toward her and gave her a quick kiss.

"It's still in the early talking stage," Beca said, looking at David Guetta. "But, hopefully, after the first of the year, we'll be able to put some time aside to start working on it."

"I'm looking forward to it," David said. "Beca's very talented and has a good ear. I foresee some really great work in our future."

Servers began coming out to place salads in front of the guests. The wine was poured and drank. The conversation continued and everyone was enjoying themselves. The main course was served, and then finally, dessert.

After the guests had finished dessert, it was time for the entertainment portion of the evening.

Beca whispered in Chloe's ear, "I need to use the restroom. I'll be back shortly."

"I'll go with you," Chloe said and started to rise.

"No," Beca said quickly, pushing Chloe back into her seat. "I don't want you to miss any of the show."

"Oh, okay," Chloe said and settled back in her seat.

Ryan Seacrest was emceeing the event and walked out onto the stage as he was being introduced.

"Ladies and gentleman, our first performer really needs no introduction," Ryan said, looking out at the assembled guests. "She first came on the scene two years ago and has made quite the impression on, well, just about everyone. And, I'm told she has a special surprise in store for you. Ladies and gentleman, Beca Mitchell!"

"Beca's singing first?" Chloe asked, looking at David Guetta. "I wonder what the surprise is."

David smiled and nodded. "Just watch and listen."

Chloe smiled and turned back to watch Beca, who was now standing in the middle of the stage.

"I would like to thank David Guetta for asking me to perform tonight," Beca said into her microphone as she looked over to their table. "I'd also like to thank him for the song Titanium because that song helped me meet the love of my life."

Beca paused and smiled over at Chloe. "And, lastly, I'd like to thank him for giving me permission to do what I'm about to do."

Music started playing and Beca looked Chloe in the eyes as she started singing.

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day When it's cold outside I've got the month of May Well I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl) Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl)

I've got so much honey the bees envy me I've got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees Well I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl) Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl), ooh

Hey, hey, hey Hey, hey, hey Ooh, yeah

As she sang, Beca walked to the stairs and down onto the floor. She continued singing as she made her way over to Chloe.

I don't need no money, fortune, or fame (ooh, hey, hey, hey) I've got all the riches baby one girl can claim (oh, yes I do) I guess you'd say What can make me feel this way? My girl (my girl, my girl) Talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl)

I've got sunshine on a cloudy day With my girl (my girl) (Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl) I've even got the month of May With my girl (my girl, whoa)

She's all I can think (my girl) (Talkin' 'bout my girl, my girl) Talkin' 'bout, talkin' 'bout my girl (my girl, whoa)

The crowd started applauding and jumped to their feet. Beca took Chloe's hand and knelt down before her. Everyone got quiet and a few oohs and awws could be heard.

Chloe's hand covered her mouth in surprise.

Beca put the microphone to her mouth. "Chloe, I love you so much and I fall in love with you more and more every day. I sometimes wake up in the morning and have to pinch myself when I see you lying next to me, just to make sure I'm not dreaming and that you're real. What I'm trying to say is, I love you, Chlo, will you marry me?"

Beca held up a ring box she had in her pocket. Chloe wiped at her tears.

"Yes," Chloe finally said, leaning over to place her hands on Beca's face. "I love you."

Beca smiled and closed the distance to kiss Chloe. She then stood, pulling Chloe up with her.

"She said, Yes!" Beca announced pulling Chloe to her for another kiss.

David Guetta and everyone applauded the newly engaged couple.

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

A/N: My apologies for not posting this yesterday (12/11/2020); life got in the way a little bit. Today's chapter (12/12/2020) will be posting later today. Thank you.

[fl0ating-tree]

Fanfic prompt: everyones first visit to Dream in the prison (specifically Puffy, Sapnap, Punz, George, and/or Niki)

OOH i really hope we get to see these actually happen because my heart is gonna snap when it does happen. im gonna do george + sapnap and puffy bc this would be super long if I did them all. 

george is probably OOC because we don’t really have an example of how he is when he’s in character. also fair warning for puffy’s part, it might come off as a little c!dream sympathetic. that’s not the intention, it’s more to show how even dream still has emotions even thought he’s awful, but if that stuff really upsets you maybe don’t read puffy’s part. it’s barely there but still. 

George and Sapnap

Sam rarely stood guard outside of the prison. After all, it’s inescapable and he’s the only one with access. After locking Dream away Sam reassured them all that he built safety features in that no one but him, not even Dream, knew about. Sapnap called him paranoid when Sam told him that over lunch one day, now he couldn’t be more thankful.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Sam asks as he leads both Sapnap and George towards the only occupied cell. “He’s...he’s not exactly fun to be around at the moment.” Sapnap cringes at that. He feels bad that Sam is the one who has to bring Dream food and water, but no one else was particularly jumping at the opportunity to be around Dream after what happened. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget Punz’s panicked urges for him to find anyone on the server and meet up at the Nether hub. How Punz led them through the Nether in full sprint, giving them all the vague explanation of “Dream is going to kill Tubbo and lock up Tommy” and nothing else. Sapnap wouldn’t have believed him if he didn’t walk in on Dream laughing at a despondent Tommy, holding a sword to Tubbo’s neck. Seeing the walls lined in trophey cases labeled for his friends and allies belongings (and even loved ones, was Dream really going to put Skeppy in a cage just to get to Bad?) 

“Sapnap?” Sam asks again after Sapnap doesn’t respond. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Sapnap shakes his head and continues walking, glancing at George to his left, “I’m sure.” George says nothing and continues walking. He hasn’t said anything since he logged on asking where Dream was. It took an hour of nearly everyone on the server telling George what happened for him to believe it. Even after everything Dream had done, George was still loyal to a fault. 

“George?” Sapnap presses and George’s shoulder stiffen.

“I need to see him for myself,” George says flatly and Sam and Sapnap share a look before continuing down the halls. Sam brings them through locked doors, redstone contraptions, pad locks after pad locks and at some points he even has George and Sapnap be blindfolded so they can’t see the inner workings. Sapnap was worried, as were others, that Sam would betray them and simply let Dream escape. But the fury in Sam’s eyes when he saw the cage built for Fran, when he heard Dream blew up the Community House, that squashed any thoughts of betrayal still lingering. 

“Wait here,” Sam tells them and Sapnap can smell redstone lighting and pistons firing before Sam’s now muffled voice calls out to them. “You can take off the blindfolds now,” he calls and they both do.

Before them is a large blackstone box, the wall between the cell and the corridor being made of obsidian enforced glass (Sapnap didn’t even know that was possible to make until Sam told him about it.) It was well lit and inside the cell was a decent looking bed, a door in the far corner presumably leading to a bathroom, a desk with papers and blunt markers, a round table with only one chair, and lastly, Dream. All things considered the cell was nice, nicer than Dream deserved, but Dream himself looked terrible. His mask was gone, destroyed by Tommy, and it made him so...human. Out of the corner of his eye Sapnap could see George studying Dream as well. His clothes were disheveled, deep bruises still on his face from his fight with Tommy and Tubbo, and where there was a normally calm and sophisticated aura surrounding him, Sapnap saw nothing but unjustified anger. 

“You’ve got visitors,” Sam says unnecessarily from where he stands by the lever to open the cell. George flinches at how detached Sam sounds. The normally kind and bright man sounded almost disappointed in Dream. 

“Yay me,” Dream snaps back, it’s Sapnap who flinches this time.

“You two wanna go in, or just talk through the glass?” Sam asks and Sapnap looks to George for an answer. He doesn’t give an answer, only stepping closer to the glass. Dream leans up from his relaxed position on the bed, intrigued. 

“I’ve gotta say Gogy this is probably the biggest thing you’ve slept through yet,” Dream teases, his voice friendly and open and Sapnap hates how badly it makes him want to break Dream out of this terrifying prison and pretend like nothing bad has ever happened.

“Were you really going to kill Tubbo?” George asks, voice quiet and void of emotion.

“Why do you care?” Dream growls, and Sapnap remembers why he can’t pretend like this is the Dream from months ago that he built the community house with, “You never gave a fuck about what was happening before, why do you care now? Cause Sapnap told you to care?” The mockery in Dream’s voice builds tension in George’s shoulders.

“He’s 17, Dream,” George’s voice is thick and Sapnap takes a step forward, having his own questions for Dream. 

“Why did you do any of it?” Sapnap asks, “Taking everything everyone loves? Controlling Tommy, trying to kill Tubbo, why did you do it?” 

“None of you get it!” Dream screams and even Sam jumps in surprise, “This is my server! I’m in control here, not Tommy, not Tubbo, no one but me!” Seeing Dream this...lost, this out of his element, without the mask is unsettling. His face is too raw, too many emotions on display from the man Sapnap always knew as calm and collected and one step ahead. Sapnap turns away, not baring to see his once best friend so far gone. 

“I’ve seen enough,” Sapnap tells Sam quietly, and the man nods. He guides Sapnap towards the exit, the two of them glancing back when George doesn’t follow. Dream seems to notice as well.

“Not gonna follow them Gogy?” He laughs, crazed and maniacal and hauntingly similar to a certain dead president. 

“You don’t get to call me that,” George snaps, voice fierce and shoulders tense. “You lost the right to call me that a long time ago.” 

The three of them say nothing else as Sam leads them out of the prison, even as Dream’s screams echo down the hallway and echo in their minds for the rest of the night. 

Captain Puffy

It started out as a joke, if Puffy was being honest. Dream had followed her around one day, carrying extra supplies for her, listening to stories of her old pirate adventures, and helping her with her daily tasks. She’d later find out that he was having a really terrible week, stressed from events he wouldn’t disclose (she’d later find out about those “events” as well, to her disgust) and not wanting to talk to anyone but needing something to occupy himself. Puffy joked around, calling him her “duckling” and let him continue doing it. It helped her and him, so she found no harm in it.

Months passed with their small routine. Dream would have a bad day or simply not want to be around the others (Puffy would, again, find out later that it was more that others didn’t want to be around him) so he would follow her around, helping out with her daily tasks or just spending the day with her. It reminded her so much of one of the younger boys on her long abandoned crew, cured a small amount of homesickness, and slowly it became less of a joke and more of a true friendship. The day Dream slipped up and called her mom, even thought she’s only two years older, used to be one of her favorite memories. Emphasis on used to be. 

She was hesitant when she heard rumors of Dream’s villainy. This was Dream they were talking about, the kind guy who came to her when he had a bad day and helped her with anything she asked. She saw him build up those walls around L’manberg, and she heard the murmurs of how he wouldn’t let anyone go see Tommy in his exile, but she passed them off as hyperbolic or flat out lies. She wonders if she was more attentive to what Dream was doing could she have prevented some of this pain. She doesn’t think she’ll ever recover from seeing Dream, her duckling, seconds away from killing a child and further traumatizing another. 

“We’re here,” Sam tells her solemnly as she hears pistons move and unties her blindfold. She could care less about how the cell looked, or how impressive the redstone was. All she could focus on was Dream, standing close to the glass, looking terrible. His mask was gone, showing his emotions clear as day. His eyes screamed sadness and anger and betrayal all in one. His hair was tangled and there was still some blood matted in it from where Tommy had fought him. His shirt was wrinkled and he didn’t even have any shoes. He was simply stood looking heartbroken and entirely human in this cell and it took ever ounce of willpower in Puffy to not cry to Sam to let him out. He looks nothing like the monster who manipulated and controlled others, he looked like her Dream, her duckling, her friend. 

“Dream...” Puffy starts but the words die on her tongue. 

“Puffy, please,” Dream starts and without the mask she can see tears welling in his eyes, “I know it looks bad but you know how bad these past months have been for me, you’ve always been there for me, you have to understand.” 

“I don’t...” the air in the room feels suffocating, “Dream I saw it with my own eyes. I saw it with my own eyes. How could you?” She watches as anger overrides Dream’s eyes but a mournful look still stays on his face.

“Puffy, Cara, you know me,” Puffy can’t hold back her sob when Dream uses her real name. The only other person she told that was Niki, and after their recent fight over what to do with Tommy, Puffy really didn’t want to think about Niki right now. “You know I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t have a reason. I’m doing what’s right, I’m making sure there’s no more fighting. You’re smart, you know me, I wouldn’t do this.” 

Puffy looks at Sam who looks an awful combination of guilty, furious, and depressed. Sometimes she forgets Sam has been here since the beginning. She wonders if Dream has always been evil, if he was always this manipulative, in the beginning. 

“When you would help me,” Puffy starts, still not looking at Dream, “when you were my duckling, was that just a cover? Was that just you trying to use me, too?” She turns back to meet Dream’s eyes, the mask no longer there to hide the way his eyes scream that he’s lying. His face is a dead give away for what he’s doing, Puffy wonders if that’s why he always wore the mask. 

“No, Cara,” Dream lies through his teeth, “I’d never use you, I promise. You have to believe me.” 

The three of them stand in silence, Dream leaning on the glass with fake tears in his eyes and real tears in Puffy’s. Sam is deathly quiet in the corner of the room, watching and not intervening. Puffy can’t tell if she appreciates that or not. What she can tell is that she can’t stand to look at Dream another minute. 

“I really did care about you, Dream,” she wipes her tears on her sleeve and turns to Sam, “I’m done.” Sam just nods and leads Puffy towards the exit. 

“Puffy, please! I wouldn’t do this, don’t you see it!” Dream pleads, voice morphing from sorrow to anger, “I did what I had to! Puffy listen to me! CARA!” 

Sam still says nothing as he sets a steadying hand on Puffy’s shoulder as she sobs, guiding her out of the prison and away from her duckling. 

[truamatized-kids-writes]

A New Home

Prologue This has been uploaded on a03 and yes we are the original writers  Dec. 13. 2021

“Well then, Tubbo, do you have everything we need?”

"I think? I've got food, beehive's nukes and a few other things we'll probably need"

“Yeah yeah, you and your goddamn Bee’s, where the hell is “Ranboo?”

"Last I'd seen he was on his way here? Maybe he got distracted or something?"

“Probably, fuckers distracted by anything and everything, we should probably go look for him if he doesn't show up in the next 12 minutes or something, god knows what could happen to him around here”

"That's true things have gone to shit at this point, besides we need to leave as soon as possible"

“Yeah no shit, all of L’manburg is gone at this point, Dream’s beyond insane, Ghostbur want’s to bring back fucking Wilbur, it’s a mystery what happens next”

"Yeah yeah I get it Cut the existential dread let's go look for Ranboo, and grab the jukebox and whatever things we've got left"

“Yeah yeah, shut it Bee boy I’m going, still can’t believe we’re actually going through with this though. Though it is to be expected at this point, we all know what happened last time we thought about this and didn’t actually do it”

"Then we still had something to actually work towards now let's go"

◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦

Tommyinnit has died from lightning

Tubbo_ went out with a bang

Ranboo drowned trying to escape Elder Guardian

◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦◦╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌𓂂꒰𖥸꒱𓂂╌╌≺ ೃ≻╌╌◦

The death of the three shook many and gave a slight moment of clarity for those taken by surprise. One of the first reactions was from Sam he seemed so lost and confused by the events that had taken place , he tried messaging the three Individually and with no answer he panicked looking into what's now L'mancrater ever so shook and lost, he was just getting to know the kids, what a week ago and now they're gone?

Silence ran through the air the second the death messages were sent out, a lone father, if you could even call him that anymore, stood on an obsidian grid, re-reading the message over and over again. Philza Minecraft, a man who once had Three sons, now left with one, now left to face the consequences of his actions. Phil knew none of the kids would be happy after what he had done, but he though it had to be done, he thought that the Smp could go back to being just an Smp without L’manburg, he didn’t think he’d be left to mourn with only one son left out of the three he once knew and loved.

Things were hushed as the large demi-god sheltered his father/mother from the explorations. When the chaos finished he frantically checked his communicator to see what damage had been done, the once was god of death(?) And reincarnation (?) was in tears. This wasn't meant to happen , he wasn't meant to lose them this soon. The messages of the three deaths sent anger, greif, and sadness throughout the demi-god causing him to shout out in frustration. The three boys he'd gotten so used to talking to, giving gifts, and seeing them sneak around his builds, gone all so suddenly with out a chance to say anything, it pissed him off, he'd lost a sibling and two close friends this day and he didn't intend to let their names go down in vain.

The mother, being protected by her son saw the messages, one among the first to see them just the look fo them brought her to tears. They couldn't be real, they just couldn't she thought as she read over the messages herself over and over frantically before it finally set in and brought her to hysterical sobs.They were gone.. She couldn't help them now, her bee loving son, his rowdy swearing friend, and the quiet forgetful boy they'd drag along with them. This small ragtag group of friends gone, she hoped begged even for her son Foolish to tell her it wasn't true, but she could see it the grief in his eyes, yet somehow she felt it her fault. She should've been there for the three, she should be been the one. Defending then this entire time, looking around this crater she knew what had come of the smp. With the three gone there would be no more scolding them to leave the kitchen as she made dinner or telling the three about the pirate adventures she remembered, there would be none of it. No more laughter from the kids. It broke her but she knew someone had to step up and at least be some sort of light or joy in this time of need, and that would be her, no matter how broken she was she'd do it.

Then, there was one person who could never seem to remember what had occurred on that day. The day of Doomsday, the ghost of the server known as Ghostbur had lost two brothers, and someone he was still getting to know. Once he received the news, blue started pouring from the poor ghost’s eyes, instantly becoming a dark royal blue the second it touched his ‘skin’.

Ghostbur may not be able to remember a lot about Tommy, but he and Alivebur really cared about him, the same goes for Tubbo and Ranboo. The ghost just held blue and cried for as long as he could before melting in the rain and waking up back in the sewer, forgetting everything that happened the day prior, along with the fact that the three youngest on the server were forever gone.

The girl with the flowers , when she saw the death messages she wasn't sure what to feel, glee, anger, sadness? She felt this odd moment of clarity, it was foggy but before she knew it she was crying , there weren't any words as she looked up to the rain, the tears and water mixing as she grinned, a look of both sadness and madness on her face as she choked on non-existent words. The thought of wanting to laugh and cackle at the three deaths crossed her, but so did the thought of standing there rain the rain grieving a shouting to the sky in anger and sadness crossed too. She felt so many mixed emotions that she didn't know what to do. While she wanted to grieve and hurt like everyone else she had left to care about, she just couldn’t, no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shed a single tear that would mean anything, she was upset, so why couldn’t she show it?

The piglin up on the obsidian grid noticed his fathers sudden look of despair and checked his communicator, the deaths only two had a lasting impact on the piglin. Tommy , dead, it shook him, he expected something a little more dignified for the boy he called Thesus. His stone heart nearly split in two reading the message, why him? Sure he was annoying as all hell but the boy deserved greatness , glory, to be on the winning side of the battle for once. He wished to give it to him , but he couldn't any more. Tubbo's message hardly affected him , sure he was a kid but he also at one point was a government and had tried to execute him as well, there's no reason in worrying over someone you don't care about. Though the same couldn't be said for Ranboo. Ranboos death caught him off guard. He didn't know them too well but he was getting to know him, this kid despite how cold he was and how often he pushed them away came back, happily and even gave him a gift. A life lost is a life lost but this one he'd mourn just like Tommy's the two would most certainly get a memorial at the house of the blade,

Then, you had the one behind the chaos, the one who caused everything, the man, the myth, the legend, Dream. The one person left who felt nothing but pure glee, the one who wanted those damn kids gone from the beginning, Tommy being gone would be a bit of a setback, but it could be dealt with. Dream didn’t care as long as the other two were gone, However, Dream isn’t as naive, he isn’t one to believe so quickly. Dream knew those kids were not dead, they would never die, even if they did, Dream could just bring them back, there was no escaping him, no escaping the DreamSMP. Dream would make sure of it. Even if it hurt the people he, deep deep down, cared about.