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anonymousewrites · 1 year

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Of Two Worlds (Book 2) Chapter Four

Fushiguro Megumi x Half-Curse! Reader

Chapter Four: Tempest

Summary: (Y/N) and Miku have a rematch.

(Y/N)’s eyes traced Miku’s movements carefully. As the curse raised a hand, she wasted no time diving straight towards her. Miku was slightly offput by the direct attack while she was preparing her own but recovered quickly and grinned. She fired lightning at full blast and point-blank range.

The brat’s gotten bold. But maybe that’ll just kill her, she thought sadistically.

At the last moment, (Y/N) jumped and flipped over Miku. At the same time, she dragged the blades of her war fans down at Miku’s shoulders. Even if it wasn’t debilitating, it would make using her techniques oh so much harder for the curse. And (Y/N) wanted to make this as tough as possible.

Jesus, the kid’s gotten mean in a fight. Miku grinned to herself. Kinda reminds me of her dear-old dad.

“I don’t know why you’re acting to satisfied,” said (Y/N) boredly, circling the grey-haired curse and watched the scar above her eye spark with electricity. Any weakness or “tell” would help her win. “You’re going to be dead at the end of this.” She struck quickly, leaping forward and taking the offensive.

Miku raised an eyebrow and chuckled as she leaned backward with the same reaction time as (Y/N). “Don’t you mean ‘exorcised?’ ”

“It means the same thing for you,” said (Y/N), sweeping her leg down at Miku’s head. When the curse tried to grab her leg, she twisted around midair and nearly managed to pierce Miku’s skull with her closed fan, but Miku blocked her at the last moment. (Y/N) leaned towards the storm curse, total focus in her heart and soul. “You won’t exist.”

Miku laughed cruelly and pushed (Y/N) away before jumping back and letting lightning spiral around her. “Oh, I might not, but my essence always will. Humans will always fear nature, what they cannot control. The curse of the storm will always return to Earth. Just like all the rest of the curse spirits stemming from poor little humans’ countless fears.” She pouted condescendingly, making fun of humans’ being terrorized.

“Then until your soul learns not to hurt people, I guess I’ll have to continue killing you.” (Y/N) spoke with startling, disconcerting finality. There was no question in her statement. It was an oath to keep killing the storm spirit, no matter the form, as long as they hurt innocent people.

And for all her cheer, Miku was a little disturbed by the solemn promise. “Careful. Your confidence could be construed as foolishness.”

Lunar Cycle: Full Moon. Ice cold flames of white danced around (Y/N)’s war fans and hands. “You should know by now I mean what I say, and I don’t say anything without reason.”

“That’s true. You’re ever so boring!” Miku leapt forward lightning quick and brought down a bolt of electricity. Pain shot up her arms at the motion, but like any proper fighter, she easily fought through it. (Y/N) deflected the electricity with her open war fans. She gritted her teeth as excess lightning coursed through her body.

This is more powerful than before. (Y/N) narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t lying about holding back last night.

“Are you finally understanding your situation?” Miku grinned and strengthened her lightning once again, sending (Y/N) flying into the tunnel wall and making a crater. “I held back last time. Some stupid rule about not killing you. But you know what?”

She sighed and pouted. (Y/N) dodged another attack and struck at her, inflicting another slash across her arms. Miku hissed and nearly dissolved into pure electricity as she attacked. She sent (Y/N) sailing into the wall. The half-curse coughed up blood and reached for her war fans, but Miku stamped down on her hand. (Y/N) gritted her teeth and grabbed the leg with her hand covered in flames. Miku growled as her leg frosted over and kicked (Y/N) with lightning so she slumped against the wall.

“I’m so bored.” She crouched in front of (Y/N). “None of the humans could really fight back or entertain me.” Fingers still sparking with electricity, the grey, coil-haired curse gripped (Y/N)’s face.

The half-curse gasped at the agonizing sensation. She could feel her skin burning from the intensity of the lightning. (Y/N) felt it paralyze her body. Infuriatingly, she could feel the energy at her fingertips but could no access it, nor could she control her own movements. (Y/N) flexed her fingers, trying to reach for her fans, but could not move enough. All she could do was try to flinch away from Miku’s touch.

“So I’m really glad you turned up. You went down a little fast since I actually tried to fight you, but you couldn’t expect to beat me.” Miku smirked. “Your little speech was so grim, and I’ll admit you worried me, from Choso’s reaction to his brothers’ deaths, I thought you’d gotten so big and strong~!”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed angrily, and she balled her fists at the babying tone. The memory of her fight against Ryo was as painful as ever, and his death was an honorable one, his heart longing for a world where he and his brothers could live in peace. He battled hard and long, and (Y/N) despised Miku brushing off both Ryo’s and her own struggles and strength.

“So sad.” Miku pouted playfully. “But don’t worry, you aren’t a total disappointment! You entertained me! This was fun! Those humans squealed and squirmed and were so satisfying to kill, but it was so easy. They just scream, run, bleed, and die.”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw, and beneath her gloves, her crescent and half-moon marks turned ice cold and silvery. Anger ran through her as Miku’s callous remarks built upon each other, a never-ending train of condescension and cruelty. A thousand words ran though her mind, but her tongue was leaden in her mouth as her body weakened from continuous shocks.

“You’re just so much more fun, ya know?” Miku continued her ramble, oblivious to the storm of anger (ironically) brewing in front of her. “You’re the Halfling. You’re held up to this standard of being powerful and all that ‘cause your dad was, well, a beast in battle. And I thought I saw that I would get exorcised last time, but I guess I was wrong to worry so much. You’re just a poor little girl who won’t fit in anywhere and won’t ever have real power.” Miku grinned. “Nice knowing you. Ba-bye now!”

Wham!

Miku slammed backwards through the subway wall and into another tunnel line, finally stopping when she hit the next wall. Cracks emanated from her landing, creating a spiderweb of fractures along the stone. Miku coughed and looked up, eyes wide in surprise as purple blood dripped from her nose.

How was there no fucking cursed energy in that? Did she pack all that force into a single punch?! she thought in alarm, staggering to her feet quickly.

“I’m not my parents. And I don’t need to be them to beat you,” said (Y/N) calmly as she stepped through the hole she had created. Underneath the black cloth of her gloves, her curse marks glowed brightly. On top of the crescent and half-moons, gibbus moons swirled into existence. Subtle burns from the electrocution crossed across her, but they did not impede her in the slightest. She was alive with ice-cold wrath, power flowing through her veins. “I’d start remembering that.”

She flexed her joints as Miku watched her warily. (Y/N) held no weapons, but Miku didn’t want to risk thinking that made her harmless. Not when the half-curse was making it abundantly clear that she had power enough without cursed energy.

“And remember that everyone you kill and make fun of is a person with a soul.” (Y/N)’s eyes flickered silver for a moment, making Miku’s eyes widen. “I want every part of you to remember that. Maybe then you’ll reincarnate as a good little curse who knows her place.” A small smirk flashed across (Y/N)’s face, deadly sweet but inhuman. “Know when you’re beaten.”

Miku threw up a hand to sweep (Y/N) away with a powerful gust of wind. (Y/N), focused intently, twisted around midair and pushed herself back off the ceiling. Miku dodged to the side and swirled two hands around herself. Effortlessly, she pulled water vapor from the air into raindrops and sent the wave towards (Y/N).

The half-curse summoned her fans and flames and flicked her wrists. The freezing fire turned the water to ice, stopping it in its tracks. With a single kick, she shattered it into thousands of tiny shards which glittered in the light of the sparking lightbulbs.

“Guess you are something, but I sure as hell ain’t dying today!” declared Miku, her hair almost growing wilder and more like a storm cloud as (Y/N) watched. It was like the pressure was revealing her complete curse form. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m outta here.” She took a deep and blew a deep, dark fog into the tunnel.

But (Y/N)’s vision sharpened, and she watched as the clouds swirled with vestiges of Miku’s winds…and her movements. Transitioning seamlessly from war fans to daggers, (Y/N) slipped like shadows through the mist. The moment she saw the edge of silver coils in the clouds, she moved. (Y/N) struck quickly, slicing down on Miku’s sides. The curse snarled at the pain. Her arms were already bleeding badly, and now she had to add more injuries to the list. Even legitimately trying to kill (Y/N), she was losing.

I’m not dying here! The winds swirled around Miku, drawing the fogs and debris in around her. “You want a fight?!” Her eyes turned molten gold, and the scar across her eye flashed with lightning. “Then bring it.” Her hair grew longer and tangled into stormy clouds. Her body turned smoky like the air around her. Miku grinned, a wild look in her eyes. “Because I can still do one thing you can’t!” She slammed her hands together, sparks flying from them. “Domain Expansion: Eye of the Storm!”

Thunder rumbled through the subway as the fog turned black and rolled over them, leaving them in a dark, swirling grey space only illuminated by flickering electricity. Miku floated above the ground as lightning flashed in the clouds around her. They spun faster and faster, turning quickly into a tornado that only she was safe from, flying in the eye of the storm.

(Y/N) gritted her teeth as she was thrown around by the hurricane. Miku’s real power had thrown her off once, but she wouldn’t let it happen again. She planted her feet and released her daggers.

Ways to beat a Domain Expansion:

A blast of cursed energy.

Expand your own domain.

Furrowing her brow, (Y/N) considered her options. She had never managed to use a Domain before, and somehow, it still felt out of reach at her current power level. Though her arms shone with crescent, half, and gibbus moons, something was still missing. No matter, the power she had was exhilarating in its own right. Every moment she felt close to who she was meant to be, a strange concept she had never full grasped. (Y/N) always had one foot in the human world and another in the curse, and to grow closer to feeling fulfilled sent shivers down her spine.

And that’s when the idea came to her. If she was of two worlds, then she couldn’t she choose another option? Why should (Y/N) constraint herself? If she thought about it, there was one loophole she could exploit. It would still take power, but that wasn’t a problem. (Y/N) had that.

Domains are precisely what they sound like: a space which someone controls. It has edges. And a domain can break through those edges.

So while Miku laughed insanely and the storm picked up around her, throwing deadly debris at (Y/N), she stepped backwards into the roaring winds. Rocks cut at her, but she took a deep breath. She formed two circles with her thumb and pointer finger. She pushed one in front of the other and linked her fingers. And as if she was always meant to say them, the words slipped out of her.

“Domain Expansion: Solar Eclipse.”

It wasn’t much. (Y/N)’s domain couldn’t fully form, for as frustrating as it was, her cursed energy couldn’t support it yet, no matter how hard she pushed. But a darkness, deep as the night, spread out from her feet. The lightning around her was instantly extinguished. Or was it merely covered? Was it just taking over the light around her, swallowing her and her opponent whole? (Y/N) swallowed, eyes bright silver in the inkiness seeping from her. Behind her, though she couldn’t see, a large dark moon covering a sun struggling to blaze brightly loomed. But she did feel the crack of Miku’s domain as her own shattered the edge. She did feel her chance at victory was there. She did feel the addicting thrill of power racing through her.

Enraged and desperate to keep (Y/N) in her domain, the nearly pure-storm Miku rushed towards her, all lightning and rain and wind and wrath. In the moment before she could literally disintegrate (Y/N)’s body, the Halfling raised a hand. Miku’s eyes widened as the cold, silver irises met the fiery, golden of hers.

I was wrong.

(Y/N) threw a hand out to the side, and Miku’s body, as vaporous as it was, split apart from sterling slashes, sending violet blood across the darkness into drops and swirls like stars and galaxies in the sky.

She does have some of him in her.

With a final rumbling crack of thunder, Miku’s domain dispersed, leaving just the curse’s body to lie among her previous victims. Soft mist turned to rain and fell about as if mourning the loss of its master. But Miku was well and truly gone, exorcised by the Halfling.

(Y/N)’s own partial domain disappeared as well, and (Y/N) calmly set off down the tunnel, not another thought given to the storm curse. But the battle left its mark on her all the same.

Under her gloves, gibbus moons joined the silvery, glowing crescent and half-moon marks.

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svnnyd4ys · 1 year

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(some of the) eah royals as incorrect quotes!

Blondie: Apple noticed only today that they can label their email inboxes, but they took apart their entire bloody laptop two weeks ago. Lizzie: This reminds me of the Apple who couldn’t turn on the coffee maker, but remembers about 500 digits of pi. Blondie: I’ll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same Apple.

!!!

Duchess: The best way to gain someone's undying loyalty is by saving them from a perilous situation. Ashlynn: So you're just gonna wait until Briar is in danger and save them? Duchess: Of course not, I'm going to create a situation that puts them in danger and then save them. Ashlynn: ... Ashlynn: You're insane.

!!!

Blondie: *fills up bottle and drinks from that* Ashlynn: *brought 4 bottles of water so this wouldn’t happen* Apple: *drinks straight from the tap* Duchess: *dehydrates* Lizzie: *drinks from the puddle of water on the floor* Briar: *licks the tap, doesn’t even need a drink*

!!!

Duchess: Fine! Judge all you want but... Duchess, points at Ashlynn: Married a lesbian. Duchess, points at Lizzie: Left a man at the altar. Duchess, points at Blondie: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer. Duchess, points at Apple: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire. Duchess, points at Briar: Lives in a box!

!!!

Apple: From now on we will be using code names. Apple: You can address me as Eagle One. Apple: Blondie is “been there done that”. Apple: Briar is “currently doing that”. Apple: Ashlynn is “it happened once in a dream”. Apple: Lizzie is “if I had to pick a wonderlandian". Apple: And Duchess is.. Apple: Eagle Two Duchess: Oh thank god.

!!!

*Briar comes home absolutely drunk, undresses, and stands in Blondie’s bedroom.* Blondie: Babe, are you.. coming to bed? Briar: No thank you, I’m sure you’re lovely but I have a girlfriend. Briar: *Lies on the ground and falls asleep* Blondie: ...

!!!

Briar: Well, aren’t you all a rag-tag group of adventurers with unclear goals and good hearts! Oh, let me guess: you’re out to save the world! Duchess: Well, actually, that sounds like a pretty fair assessment. Ashlynn: More or less, I guess... Apple: That sounds awesome! Let’s do that! Lizzie: I’m new here, but I am open to the concept. Blondie: I thought that’s what we were doing, guys, come on!

!!!

Duchess, reading the newspaper: Huh. Did you know Nickelodeon opened a hotel? Briar: Yeah, I went there once. There was a dead squirrel in the pool and I made some of Ashlynn cry by telling them it was the real Sandy.

!!!

Apple: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Duchess, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

!!!

Blondie: What makes you think it's okay to watch Hannibal given its subject matter? Ashlynn: Sometimes, I watch television shows for entertainment purposes. Briar: Because I condone murder and cannibalism.

!!!

*The squad's reaction to being told they're the chosen one* Apple: I will not let you down. Duchess: Sounds fun. Ashlynn: K. Blondie: No, I'm fucking not. Lizzie: Do I have to be? Briar: Please god, I am so tired.

!!!

Ashlynn: I think I just figured something out. I got to go. Briar: Aren't you forgetting something? Ashlynn: Uuh...*hesitantly kisses Briar's forehead before running out.* Briar: No, pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?

!!!

Briar: *sighs* Blondie: You bored? Briar: Yeah. Blondie: Wanna start drama for no reason? Briar: I thought you’d never ask.

!!!

Lizzie: Punch me in the face. Duchess: ...Punch you? Lizzie: Yes, punch me, didn’t you hear me? Duchess: I always hear ‘punch me in the face’ while you’re speaking but it’s usually just subtext.

!!!

Apple: Be right back, gonna hit the toilet for a quick power sob.

!!!

Briar: I'm hot, I’m tall, I'm gay, and I'm on my theatre kid arc.

!!!

Ashlynn, writing in their diary with a glitter gel pen: I'm losing my sense of humanity. Nothing matters. God is dead. There's blood on my hands.

!!!

Duchess: If we were in prison you guys would be like my bitches.

!!!

Lizzie: Don’t weep for the stupid. You’ll be crying all day.

!!!

Blondie: I was born for politics! I have great hair and I love lying! !!!

#shut up sunny!!#svnnyd4ys #incorrect quotes #ever after high #eah #royals #apple white #duchess swan #briar beauty #lizzie hearts #blondie lockes #ashlynn ella

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talenlee · 2 years

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Story Pile: Megatokyo

New Post has been published on PRESS.exe: Story Pile: Megatokyo

Throughout 2022 I made a bit of fun on social media by reminding people that Megatokyo, the webcomic, was still updating, and had through all 22 years of its existence, produced a plot that at this point spanned roughly a week. It’s one of those things that when you present it to people who remember reading it as literal children creates an interesting reaction that shows you what they remember.

But what of me? What did I remember? I thought that maybe I should go check it out, and see what I thought of Megatokyo, since after all, I’d stepped out well before the talking robot girl had made a schoolfriend who was also the avatar of female tragedy. What is Megatokyo now? And how has it changed? Is it what you remember? is it better? is it worse?

What would I answer to the question, What is Megatokyo?

Content Warning: Y’know, there’s a lot of pretty nasty misogyny in Megatokyo, though not anything I’d step up to the level of a content warning. What I would content warn, though, is the commonality with which they suggest an adult Piro date a fifteen year old.

Megatokyo is a webcomic that launched in the year 2000, immensely successful for its form and platform, and one of those ‘top ten most popular’ things in its genre for a number of those years. Famously slow paced, erratic and unreliable in its update schedule, its claims to fame early on mostly were tied to its high art quality compared to other webcomics of the time and its quirky mix of Anime Softboy Piro and Libertarian Gamer Largo, and that’s kind of where the simple summary breaks down. You can’t really look at Megatokyo as the thing it started as, or the reason it was successful, because those things are amorphous and there’s a lot of assumptions. I mean I assume it succeeded because it looked good compared to a dozen sprite comics and stuff that looked like Sluggy Freelance. What’s more, ‘why it was notable in 2000’ is really unimportant in 2022, where I’m trying to look at what Megatokyo, the whole text, is.

The best thing you can give Megatokyo at the moment is abridgement. Twenty-two years on, waiting between strips and the dead strips are all no longer being drawn out by weeks at a time. The first year or so of comic strips are a breezy read, around 129 pages, which load nice and quick and honestly ricochet through the narrative at a pretty breakneck pace. I started this article imagining in my heart of hearts thinking that I’d just read all of Megatokyo. All twenty years of it, which totals up to about 1600 pages. As I write this down now, the ‘jot notes down’ stage of things, I am at 412 pages, which puts me in March 2003. That means that within the first 3 years of the comic, a quarter of it got made, which is honestly pretty good — that’s around 72 pages a year, which is about two pages a week. You could do a lot worse than that in a lot of serialised publications.

Of course, then there’s the question about what is or is not ‘Megatokyo‘ in this context. At first, I started by noting how often pages were what I filed as ‘padding.’ They were dead art days, ringer days, diary days, explainers for delays in the comic, and my numbers found that first ‘chapter’ of Megatokyo was composed of 83 ‘strips’, and 38 pieces of filler content. I don’t know if that content proportion holds; honestly, I imagine it gets worse, with more and more dead art days over time, until updates are instead interspersed with great big gaps of nothing, but I won’t know until I get there.

I wanted to make sure I spent some of this time noting down my reactions to the characters, the ways the story was telling me things and the things the story seems to think of as important, though, because it’s a lot easier to give the benefit of the doubt at the end of an archive binge, when you’re trying to construct the narrative in your own head. And I think that it holds that some of the best things you can do for Megatokyo is cut out a bunch of Megatokyo.

I need to talk about Megatokyo‘s author. No, not Piro. No, not Fred Gallagher. No, not Largo, or Rodney, or Dom or Ser. None of those people, but rather instead, the Author of Megatokyo, in a Barthesian sense.

Fred Gallagher fell out with Rodney Carston. Fred Gallagher has had depressive spirals, and personal medical tragedy and breakdowns and collapses. Fred Gallager is a person, and that person has been influenced in immense ways by material needs and constraints, and I will talk a little about what I think of that. But Fred Gallagher isn’t ‘the Author’ of Megatokyo and should not be regarded as such, because Megatokyo‘s author is the single mind that created the first strip and the most recent strip. Both of those people who did that were called Fred Gallagher, but they were not the same person by any measure.

I want to talk about what Megatokyo makes me think and feel and what it’s about as a historical millenial story. I want to talk about things that the text seems to me to be trying to do, because that seems the most reasonable way to treat this text as a whole object with its own ideas, and not as a diary of the breakdown of a man cursed in a way only capitalism can curse you. To that end:

The Author Of Megatokyo Is Dead, Because The Author Of Megatokyo Was Never Alive.

When I refer to Piro, I use that to mean the character Piro, and the fact that Piro is written by someone who for a while there wanted to be primarily known and seen as Piro is a detail that the diegesis can discard. It’s interesting if you want to particularly pick on him but I think that picking on him at this point is sort of redundant. The Author of Megatokyo then is the collapsed personality you can see in the work, a mind that would make the jokes that are made here and why they might make them. If a comic makes a particular kind of joke, you can probably reliably expect that the author of that comic finds that joke funny; just in the same way you can expect a comic made in English has an author that understands English.

Without delving too much into Megatokyo’s failings at this point, one thing I think is most important about Megatokyo‘s author is that they value nostalgia and impressions. There’s a shocking amount of things in the comic that claim, in some way, to be ‘about’ something in particular, or reference caring about a thing, but then demonstrate a breathtaking ignorance of it; if you told me the Author of Megatokyo had never been to Japan at all I wouldn’t actually doubt you. There are all these little giveaways, like the ways people have their meals, freely available guns, high speed highway chases, american-style health insurance and details like car accidents and a lack of attention paid to trains. This is not about Japan, this is about the Japan you think you like if you liked thinking about Japan a lot in 2000.

The Author has concerns outside of the comic that creep into them, too; there’s an antipathy towards internet forums and commentators, a distrust of normies, a shocking distaste for women and their agency, and a surprisingly common reliance on violence as a punchline in a way that makes me feel like they’re not very confident.

The confidence and distaste for women show up a lot more in the early parts, but don’t seem to have gone away around strip 500. Early strips relied a lot on the joke structure of someone being awful to a woman then being hurt for it, which meant, to make a joke, a lot of characters harrassed women. Repeatedly. A big part of this is a specific joke structure that was, I think, kind of Mcluahn-like, embedded in the form by another media.

Okay, okay, so this is a big reach, this is unprovable, but it explains a trend I lived through and I think that the story has some explanatory power. When I talk about it, please recognise this is a lens that works for me, this is an explanation for a trend that makes sense to me and I think helps me mentally avoid y’know, some creative problems.

I think that weeby webcomics are populated with a particular joke structure that occurs by trying to emulate an anime punchline.

If you watch a lot of 90s comedy anime, a very common thing is a character does something or says something funny but inappropriate, trying to get away with something they shouldn’t or being somewhere they shouldn’t, rather than stay and explain what’s going on or what they were doing, the show tends to keep things pacing on by having someone in the scene whallop them so hard they go flying out of the scene. This is a structure used a lot by Takahashi across her, let’s say, shithead-based narrative stories, and she used it for a lot of sex-based slapstick.

Webcomics that wanted to emulate anime aesthetics of the 90s were often being made by people who could reference that particular vein of punchline-PUNCHline moment. Also, and this is again, conjecture, I think a lot of webcomics were very keenly aware that they weren’t very funny. What’s more, they were often stuck with a four-panel structure, which means you’d get something like:

Panel 1: Framing for a joke

Panel 2: Setup for the punchline

Panel 3: The actual punchline

Panel 4: A reaction for the punchline

And I think, because overwhelmingly these were being made by people who weren’t boiling with confidence, panel 4 would be a reaction of violence, a shocking and abrupt ‘bam you got hurt for the thing you did,’ which was often a bad joke or a thoughtless line or a cheesy pick-up line. And that structure plays into how, in the early Megatokyo stories, a four panel comic that couldn’t come up with a use for its fourth panel would regularly have Largo say or do something misogynistic or awful, and then, the fourth panel is an understated observation of the aftermath of some violence. A doctor patching someone up, or a news report about someone getting hurt, or Piro hearing that something bad just happened to Largo.

What I’m saying is that an attempt to be Takahashi made Megatokyo into Ctrl-Alt-Delete.

Part of what bothers me in the reread is how much Megatokyo seems to have the edges of some ideas, as it is filled with conversations about media, games, and culture, but these ideas are so basic and stupid and dead-end with cliches. There’s this whole recurrent thread about how Piro liking dating sims was a problem because it made him weak, and not Piro objectifying real women was the problem.

It wants to comment on games because of Largo liking games but it has no idea about how people interact with games. It’s full of characters who clearly like hentai but is deeply dismissive of sex work, and in the same way, these characters seem to always be looking for a woman who is to blame for the things that are going wrong in their lives! Largo spends a huge chunk of the story at war with a girl because he thinks there’s something sus about her, and there is something sus about her, but even the ways he tries to address that involve approaching her as a problem who needs to be solved.

It’s not like this isn’t a story with some ideas in it. It’s definitely trying with both hands to pull together a bunch of different ideas, ideas that maybe had some purpose once, when the story started but as the story persists, the longer it goes without being able to resolve or conclude those story bits, the Author just keeps stapling together things they like. It also creates this weird phenomenon of backpedalling, sometimes as quickly as two panels immediately after one another, with a day between them. There’s a sequence where a teenager finds Piro’s books and her reaction at first implies that she’s looking at hentai he draws, but then the next panel, on the next day, opens with her saying ‘well I’m definitely not looking at hentai here.’

Then what the fuck was that first reaction?

This character’s reaction to Piro’s art is one of those other ways the story seems to be telling me ‘hey, here’s what you should think about this,’ and it’s also one of the ways the story underscores the theme of sadness. It keeps bringing up sadness, the sadness of a character, the sadness of an art, the sadness of a fandom, the sadness of a particular interest, and it keeps bringing up sadness itself as if the sadness is what makes someone interesting. This art is so sad, this artist draws sad characters, he was drawn to this character because there was a sadness to her (even if that wasn’t actually who she was).

I think Megatokyo is a story about how being sad is the same thing as being interesting. And hoping that other people in the world think that too. That a character with the right aesthetic presentation, the right drowned babymanchild, is inherently interesting. You should care about Piro because he’s sad. Piro cares about characters because they’re sad. That’s why he draws them to be sad. Piro’s emotional state is soooo strange, so unlike other boys, so much so that a brain-warping AI that manipulated people assumed he was a female player and he didn’t take well to being hit on in a game, where he was also, again, sad.

You can unpack a whole thing there if you want. Seems you can’t manipulate lesbians over the internet.

Good Girl.

There’s a lot of a particular kind of softboy fantasy to Piro. The character is the hub of a lot of attention from people who value him and his opinion a lot when one of his only acts of selflessness so far was giving away someone else’s money. And I don’t get why I’m meant to like that. I don’t feel like Piro is interesting because he is sad, I feel like he is sad, because he gets to be sad, because he keeps seeming to resort to sadness as a personality trait. He complains about the people around him, especially women, and that’s why he’s sad – because people are making him sad, and that’s not interesting. It’s wretched.

According to the timescale of Megatokyo, there have been about twenty days since the start of the story proper, with a two week timeskip early in chapter 0 to set up the predicament of our freeloading idiot protagonists becoming homeless. It means that the world of Megatokyo is a historical one; it is set in a year 2000 Tokyo where Fukushima Daichi hasn’t happened, where no global financial collapse happened, no impeachment of Park Geun-Hye or assassination of Shinzo Abe happened. Hell, in Megatokyo, Sega is still in the eyes of the gamer audience, a leading console manufacturer, which is why they have black vans and sick-ass secret cops with guns. The PS2 is a loathed upstart console made by an Enemy, Love Plus is eight years away, and Metal Gear Solid 2 isn’t out yet.

The entirety of this story then, is the work of a millenial weeby author, perhaps fresh out of college, writing and creating about the way they felt in that one period of time, as the memories get fuzzier and the culture moves on.

This whole thing makes me feel gross. These characters are iconic examples of millenial internet culture, and looking back on them, they make me revolted to remember who they were, how they were. I printed out some of these comics and had them in my schoolbooks. I quoted them. I probably still do, without realising the source of the phrases lingering still in my head.

I recoil from Piro, even remembering my time as a depressed boy who wanted to be prettier than I was and wished Girls Would Just Appreciate How Different I Was. I see the way that his behaviour and thoughts all seem to reflect a disdain for the women around him, and the way he used selfishness and indulgence as an excuse to treat his friends badly. Largo is meant to be the relief from Piro, and he makes me gamerphobic. Someone who has nothing in his life but Being A L337 G4M3R, whose ability to even process emotion is morphed around that, obsessed with his interests in a way that harms other people, and constantly seeking alcohol.

When viewed as page after page of a single text it’s very hard to think of Megatokyo very well. The characters are dreadful, and you sort of need to make excuses for them to put up with them long enough to watch the character development. They were rough, self-insert characters of thoughtless men, they can’t help it, how were they supposed to be good at storytelling?

There are two things in this comic, in the first five hundred strips that stand out now, in hindsight as needing particular explanation. Firstly, at one point early on, Erika and Hayasaka, two Japanese girls from Japan in Japan are having a conversation, and the topic of Hayasaka’s coworker Piro comes up. Erika asks if he’s American, and Hayasaka responds with ‘I don’t know.’ Now, the specific wording there is very obviously easy – after all, any given white boy could be from Canada, Scotland, Romania, Australia, or indeed, Japan as well, there’s nothing about his appearance that makes it obvious.

But these are Japanese characters from Japan speaking in Japanese, and Japanese has a way, as a language, to signify if someone is from Japan or not, and what’s more, in Japan, it’s really obvious that people judge and assume how Japanese you are or are not, based on how you look. That Hayasaka reacts with an ‘I don’t know’ is really weird, and makes me uncomfortable because it almost feels like it’s asking a specific question, “is he white” and the answer is meant to signify “how should I be able to tell?”

It’s a recurrent thing with how people talk about perceiving Piro, the character. He’s seen as female by a mind-warping AI in an MMORPG, a group of girls describe him as attractive (but also a lady), and the Erika moment leave me feeling like this character, in some tiny way, is meant to be a very obviously white boy, who can somehow be seen, in Japan, aracially; that he would ‘pass’ as Asian in a culture that is very aware of what that means.

Oh and one of those groups perceiving him as a ‘her’ includes a group of fifteen year old schoolgirls who are shocked to see a boy reading shojo manga. This is once again one of those things that projects that image of Japan, rather than being set in Japan, because lots of boys buy Shojo manga, it would not be an oddity that children gawp at. But it does let us chain into the other thing that I cannot stop thinking about:

Piro’s Conscience stops the story and has a chat with him about how he should not find those girls attractive, because they are fifteen and he is something like 23. And that’s almost a thing that you could point to as character development, except it’s weird that he needs to be told that by an outside agent, and it’s weird that the Author would think of that as an example of a way to have this character improve. You kind of don’t tend to need to explain ‘by the way, this character is not a sex criminal.’

But okay, the story says ‘Piro will not have sex with that teenager, as a point of ethical growth.’ Cool, not the example I’d leap to but I’m glad they do it. But and oh no there’s a but – but, they then have other characters remark on that, and there’s a plot arc about ‘oh no, what if this teenager hits on him?’

Yeah, what if?

What if this character who is definitely not a sex criminal now, because that’s a thing that the plot said he wasn’t, gets invited to do a sex crime? Well, maybe he’d do it? Because that character development is uncertain? Which means he’s probably a sex criminal, really?

These are the things that make me wonder about the Author of Megatokyo. It makes me wonder, as with other works before it, why would you bring that up?

It’s hard not to be bitter about Megatokyo. Megatokyo was wildly successful on the con circuit, it had printed books and cosplayers and the creators in the first year of the comic’s life went from ‘nobodies with a comic’ to ‘celebrity guests at major conventions.’ And this is in that period where of 121 strips, 38 were just empty filler. There was a lightning strike of it all, and I know that impacts how I feel about it in hindsight. We were hanging on to see the plot developments? From this? At that point? A year in, knowing that twenty-one years later, many of those initial plot points are dangling or forgotten?

But, and now I’d like to talk about Fred Gallagher the person, and not The Author of Megatokyo. I think Fred Gallagher received a special kind of torment that only capitalism can truly give. In a fair or sensible world, Fred wouldn’t need to do this art in a way that generated revenue; he’d be able to do it in his free time when he wanted to and release it at a schedule that pleased him and find a stable feedback loop that worked for him, all while his other needs were met. He wouldn’t need to work as an architect, then as a bus driver, in order to make ends meet while he pushed on with Megatokyo, a thing that he can manage to update maybe twice a month with a single page, often a page full of wordswordswords.

Megatokyo got successful in a capitalist way, and it demanded that in order it work, it had to be consistent, it needed attention, it needed monetisation, it needed to be a hustle, and the result of it really looks like every part of that sucks. Gallagher has written about being a temperamental writer and artist, and doesn’t that bear out in a work which could have months of breaks between its haphazardly crafted plot beats?

Megatokyo is a project that could benefit now with a good editor going through a draft manuscript and saying ‘hey, is this not important? Maybe we get rid of this’ or ‘what are we doing with this?’ and maybe ‘a few less jokes about the fifteen year old flirting with an adult, perhaps?’ and then letting the perfectionist who wanted to drive the story come back through that process and engage with it in its own time. It doesn’t need to be a commercial platform that justifies its existence; it could be a shed project, something someone who loves it does to work on it a little at a time.

But it isn’t.

And the demands of making A Business, a Brand, are clearly things that really hurt its actual existence. The more upset and the more struggle that Gallagher has to go through to make it, the less likely it seems to me that it gets made. That’s the story of what happened to the visual novel (which still shocks me in that it seems like it’d be very easy to get something out, but which now, all that money has dried up).

Gallagher has a patreon. It pays for Megatokyo and it pays for his other webtoon work, which seems driven by improvisation and speed. It gets updated a fair bit more often than Megatokyo with more coherent, directed sequences. I do not wish ill of this man, and for all that I wish the culture had venerated something else, uplifted someone else, I do not want this project to be a failure, to be gone. I’d like it to be better – boy, I’d like it to be better, such as discarding all the jokes about the fifteen year old flirting with an adult, could we please stop that.

But it’s hard sometimes to think about it, about the unfairness that this got to be a Cultural Touchstone where someone nearly twenty years older than me got to be one of ‘the voices’ of my cultural space, and where now he gets to continue making a page or two a month, while some of my friends have to negotiate ‘groceries or rent’ problems with their online presences and the art they give away.

Is Megatokyo, the project, worth a few thousand a month? I mean, yeah, absolutely.

But it doesn’t seem fair to me that this project, this project, limping along over twenty two years to tell a story that is awkward and illformed and thoughtless and selfish and indulgent and focused on some characters who are kinda rotten assholes, gets to be the place where the cyberpunk dystopia is unevently distributed.

There’s an impulse to pull the punch here, or to be crueller. That somehow I should either be kind enough because Gallagher’s been through a lot (and he has! I don’t mean to downplay any of the realities of Being The Megatokyo Guy!) or be able to lay a knockout punch on the work and get rid of it, which, no, of course not; Gallagher should be happily working on this project in his own time in a way that appeals to him, it doesn’t have to go anywhere or have a goal. In this house we don’t do disrespectful teleologies. Maybe I should be ‘aw shucks, well, that Piro learns his lesson after four straight years of narrative,’ but to get there I have to slog through twenty two years of archives, most of which is irrelevant and boring.

Ah well.

Make art, make rent, help others do the same. And helping others make art can be stuff like reading your friends’ work, and asking them if they want to do things differently, or better, or with fewer jokes about flirting with underaged girls.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

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ohmrshudsontookmyskull · 2 years

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I posted 2,745 times in 2022

That's 2,745 more posts than 2021!

194 posts created (7%)

2,551 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tjlcarchives

@helloliriels

@gaylilsherlock

@a-candle-for-sherlock

@victorianpining

I tagged 102 of my posts in 2022

#johnlock - 21 posts

#fanfiction - 11 posts

#bbc sherlock - 6 posts

#hesperfic - 5 posts

#apologies if this is not the regular johnlock content you're interested in - 4 posts

#sherlock holmes - 3 posts

#fic writing - 3 posts

#sherlock - 2 posts

#scapegoat - 2 posts

#fic recs - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 137 characters

#i saw someone write of holmes/watson that their bond is not the drama the drama is the rest of the world and that's what i really aim for

My Top Posts in 2022:

johnlock prompts per request!

Dialogue:

“I didn’t think you felt… things, that way.”

“That’s your problem, you know. You don’t see me, do you?”

Scenario:

After nearly getting sniped at the pool, John noticed Sherlock’s attempts at being more tactile with him; almost like he needs to check that he’s really there, that he’s not wired, that he’s okay. John is struck by a new realization. Does he need to update his data on Sherlock’s heart?

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

*screams* I am very sorry this took so long! I wasn't expecting to be a busy person and also I made the mistake again of thinking I could write shorter little bits and also I am thinking CONSTANTLY of Sherlock "like a little lost child" in John's blog!!!!

Anyway here is my answer to this: two idiots slowly navigating things you'd think would be obvious. <3 Thank you for the prompt! I hope you enjoy! <3

54 notes - Posted November 21, 2022

genuinely what the fuck happened between tab (peak) and *gestures at whatever tf s4 was*

59 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

some johnlock fic recs of a morning

Though Greater Far, Is Innocent : penumbra. The episodic life of Sherlock and John, lovers.

A Symphony of Chemical Reactions : what_alchemy. Sherlock prepares for John a feast, in typically Sherlockian fashion.

Hitting the Water at Sixty Miles an Hour : what_alchemy. A Holmes family road trip for Mummy’s birthday. Mycroft is appalling, Sherlock is chaos, and John is caught up in it all.

The Important Bit : solshine. Sherlock is asexual. They’re married anyway.

subterfuge isn’t subterfuge if you don’t know what the hell you’re doing : scullyseviltwin. Idiots (lovers) (affectionate).

The Dead Detective : DiscordantWords. John in limbo, til he meets someone in hell.

House of Light : algyswinburne. A post-S4 fic with NO TFP and NO Rosie, which is exactly the kind of S4 content I want, thank GOD there’s some somewhere. (This is urgently a request for more, fandom.) More fake dating to appease Mummy Holmes.

Matchmaking for Solitary Animals : arwa_machine. John moves back into Baker Street, and discovers Sherlock’s new sex life. He resolves to find the man a real boyfriend. This is a mistake.

Brief Conversations with the Woman : May_Shepard. Irene’s more helpful than she seems.

Will probably update this when I find a charger that works on my ancient kindle from the early years of the fandom. There are some lost treasures saved on there, I suspect...

69 notes - Posted September 20, 2022

It’s finally done! Fun fact: if I spent the vast majority of my 40-hours the past two weeks writing this, does that mean I had a full time job writing slash?

Original prompt: “could you write a ficlet where sherlock and john go to a gay bar on a case and sherlock fits right in and john is confused (or vice verda i’m very unfussed)?“

I think I drifted slightly away from the point here...but they do in fact both fit right in and confuse each other, so, uh, double points, right? Right???

@thearchivistswilltolive @totallysilvergirl (I hope it’s cool if I tag you I feel like you will appreciate certain things about this)

In which there is a romance, healing, affirmation, and a *Fall Out Boy voice* god-damned denouement.

113 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

captain john watson, md, veteran of maiwan, kandahar, and bart's bloody hospital and we're really meant to believe he's so bad at his own job that he'd fall for the nonsense of "yeah this bullet in my heart? meant to let me live ofc ofc that's how gunshot wounds work and not at all a load of horse tripe"

we're meant to believe he'd ever forgive someone who nearly stole sherlock from him a second time? we're meant to believe he'd just be fine with all that?

we're meant to believe that he'd forgive it so completely he'd ever almost kill sherlock himself for the sake of this lying, cruel, murdering person who said herself she only wants to "keep" him? we're meant to accept that he watched his best friend flatline on the table and managed to get comfy with that?

never mind johnlock, even the friends i'm not in love with i would not forgive the murder of. and i'm a much milder person than john. seriously what the fuck was any of that

137 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #oooh it's gratifying that RMNC is so high <3

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perpetual-fool · 2 years

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Musings 2

(01/11/23,1k) Thoughts I've had about some personal things. (tired, feelings, mistakes, talking, childhood)

I am so tired: I'm doing better, but 'better' is not 'good'. There is so much to do and I have almost no energy to do it with. There's such a tremendous mess. Obviously, the world is fucked, society is a façade, and people are evil. But I don't have enough will to worry about those things yet. (Not that that that stops me if something brings it up.) I really can't keep up with just the cooking and cleaning and exercise I need just to live; I'm not sure what I should even do for all those things. I have so much fucking stuff acquired in the pursuit of any little thing that might make me happy, and if nothing else that needs to be organized and stored. And I can't even begin to deal with money, legal, or medical stuff. But I'm gonna have to, 'cause my heart problem came back. I'm almost certainly going to have to have surgery again to get it fixed. I really don't want have to see the inside of a hospital again for another decade. And I just have little aches, pains, weird little sensations so often now. I'm sure my reactions are overblown to an extent. After what I was(n't) told about my heart problem the first time, I'm conditioned to feel like any little thing might kill me. Like, "a little sore spot in your leg? feel slightly dizzy? headache? better pack your hospital bag." But this stuff didn't used to happen. And I need maintenance I've never had to worry about before. It's like my body just broke in 2019. I don't have the energy for this. I've never had the energy for this. Maybe things would be easier if I had anything to look forward to. I'm just blindly searching at this point, I have no reason to think anything is going to go anywhere. Although Cat is talking to me again, for now. That's the one good thing I have. Though she may decide she doesn't want to bother.

Tainted feelings: I'm having an ongoing problem, any time I think of something that might be fun or interesting, I reflexively feel bad about it. I'll see a well made drawing or something, and just as I'm about to feel some way about it, I'm reminded of a bad experience I've had related to drawing, and feel bad. Reasoning at it doesn't seem to do anything; logic doesn't seem to apply. I think I just have to decide to feel good instead of bad? Maybe when I start thinking "you're a piece of shit" about some idea, I need to go back and say "no, that idea is good actually". For just a moment, a day or so, I had hope and clarity. That has happened before. I think maybe I was so exhausted I wasn't processing anything past the change itself. So for a moment it seemed like things were going to get better, not seeing the challenges that would entail.

Mistakes are good?: I've felt bad any time I couldn't achieve, essentially, perfection. Any little mistake, any sub-optimal choice, any experimental dead end was not acceptable. I'm not sure where I learned it, but it doesn't make any sense. Even assuming perfection is the goal, you don't get there by just being perfect. You get there by study, experimentation, and practice. You get there by making mistakes. So, I should feel good about failure? each one being a step towards being better. How do I feel good about things?

Talking with Cat: Cat is talking to me again. She seems to be okay with the kind of stuff I want to talk about, and she seems to be able/willing to explain things in a way I can actually understand. Although that turned out to be harder than I thought. Problem being, it's not just the one idea I need explained, but all the prerequisites too. But it seems to be going well I feel as strongly as I ever did. Maybe more now that I'm not 'muted'. I have neither the context to understand what's happening nor to know what others would call it. It feels sort of warm? and there's this 'pulling' sensation in my chest. I'm thinking about her more often than not. I really want to try and say affectionate things, but she's not comfortable with that at the moment. Waiting is hard; she doesn't have a lot of time to spare these days. Also I feel kind of sad, but that's because I'm afraid of losing her, which would be devastating. She apparently has mixed feelings. She said she still has some positive feelings about me, though I don't know why anyone would. And she feels resentment about some things, but we haven't had time to get into it. I don't know if it's resolvable. I guess if my presence is going to make her unhappy then I don't want to bother her. Aside: if this doesn't work, there's not going to be anyone else. I know not to try and connect anymore.

What is a childhood supposed to be?: I was wondering, what is growing up supposed to be like? There's definitely a prescribed series of events that society expects should happen, as with school being mandatory. Other people my age might kids or a doctorate at this point, but I'm just starting to figure out how to live, from scratch. If nothing else, certainly that's something that's something that's supposed to have been taught by now. Although judging by the handful of people I've dealt with, no one has any fucking idea what they're doing. It's just another façade I guess. Maybe you're not supposed to be a person, maybe you're supposed to be a worker, a worshiper, or a subject. Almost never have I heard people express motivations in terms of what they want, it's almost always been a variant of "(in this circumstance) you're supposed to _". Are there people in there at all?

#Musings #personal

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sunflowersteves · 2 years

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it’s okay, be shy || e.m.

request || i'd love to see a fluff drabble of eddie flirting with a gender neutral senior in high school who was often left out of things and just generally considering a ghost towards social life but eddie would probably coax them out and be so so nice and caring, just..... he seems like the protective bf especially towards social situations.

pairing || eddie munson x gn!reader

author’s note || ok so for some reason it wouldn’t show up in tags so i’ve decided to repost!! sorry guys :(

warnings || shy!reader, social akwardness, protective!eddie, fluff

masterlist

“I’m sorry. What the shit did you just say, Mike?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the kid, who was now realizing he had fucked up. His eyes were wide as he tried to backtrack—hands up in defense.

“Well, y-you know, because–”

He clicked his tongue, “because what, Wheeler?”

He looked at his lap, not daring to stare back into the eyes of the metalhead before him. Eddie’s eyes were blown wide, chest heaving up and down.

You were shy. Super, shy. You hid around in the shadows, hoping that no one would notice you. You were well-reserved and avoided crowds at all costs. Eddie Munson, on the other hand, was quite the opposite—running around the cafeteria as people glared at him and screaming his affirmations into the night sky. He was the opposite of shy.

Eddie was one of the only people that had gotten you out of your shell, so sometimes even attending a Hellfire club meeting took a lot out of you. Of course, Eddie was quite protective over you. If anyone picked on you, laughed at you, even looked in your direction, oh, they were so dead. Six feet under the ground, dead.

“You talk about them like that again, and I’ll shove my fist down your throat, you got it?” Mike nodded frantically, mumbling an apology.

“Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to them!” He pointed at you, who sat in the chair next to him, eyes wide at Eddie’s reaction to Mike making fun of you for not going to Eddie’s gigs.

“Eds, it’s okay. He was just joking.”

He just huffed. No one makes fun of his baby. Well, except him. Teasing you was a fun activity but only reserved for him.

“I’ll go, okay? I didn’t want to miss it, anyway.” Eddie inwardly cringed, a bubbling irritation at Mike for making you think that he was bummed you weren’t going to their gig on Saturday. Sure, he wanted you there every time, but he understood that it was nerve-wracking for you.

He never wanted to make you feel that way. Never.

He rubbed his hand back and forth on your thigh. He was leaning forward on his chair, hair falling against his face. “You don’t have to go, baby, I know there will be a lot of people.”

“But-”

He shook his head, pressing his lips against your temple. His honey brown eyes drew you in, staring so lovingly at you that it made your heart flutter. “I’m not bothered by it at all, okay? Your comfortableness is way more important than one gig, sweetheart.”

You pouted, looking down at your hands, “I want to support you, though.” He could tell that your timidness was making you frustrated. You wanted to be on the front row cheering him on as he shredded his guitar, not sitting at home while watching Back to the Future for the fortieth time.

He held your cheeks into his hands, forcing you to look at him. “Sweet baby, you’re my biggest supporter ever. I know you love me and how metal I am.” You giggled, a smile finally making its way to your face.

“There’s that adorable smile. You can come if you want, but I don’t want you to unless you’re absolutely sure.” He paused, smile widening. “Look, I’ll have Jonathan film everything, okay? That way, you can still see it.”

You nodded at the compromise as he swiftly pulled you into his lap. He started pressing sweet little kisses all over your face that made you both erupt with laughter.

Mike grimaced, “ew, you guys are gross.”

Dustin slapped his shoulder, “Hey, those are my parents you’re talking about.”

Lucas groaned, “that’s even worse!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb #stranger things 4 #request

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astraldelights · 2 years

Text

Meet Cute

Synopsis: an unexpected encounter with a strange gift shopist at the museum

Content: Just cute stuff in general

Word count: 2.9k

Author’s note: This took awhile to write but it was fun! I kept seeing other writings where Steven woke up without reader being real or hinted which made me sad so i wanted to give my boi something sweet. Sorry if I got any Egyptian mythology wrong. Enjoy reading!

Masterlist

The past week had been filled with late nights, filing reports and meetings. Looking for a break from the monotony, you decided to take the upcoming weekend as a way to explore something new. While the national art gallery would not have naturally been a first choice, they did have a new exhibit, so you decided to check it out.

Entering the museum, you walked around the displays of the artefacts. History has always been full of mystery, but you believed it provided an interesting insight to the past.

Deeply lost in thought, you found yourself in front of a sculpture of a cat.

“Are you a cat lover by any chance?” The strange accent caught your attention

“If you're interested to know, cats were revered by the ancient Egyptians. They even had a goddess with a feline’s head called Bastet.”

“What was she worshipped for?” You questioned the man. This seemed to start a spark in him. He immediately replied,” She was a fierce lioness warrior goddess of the sun! And she-”

“Stevie!” He abruptly stopped his passionate explanation as he was rudely interrupted by a stern looking woman.

“What did I tell you about bothering the museum guests! You’re not even a bloody tour guide. Get back to your station, and stop being useless!” The woman scolded him harshly.

Before you could even tell her there was no problem she had turned to you and apologised for the inconvenience before going about her way. Steven already rushed off at that point, causing you to lose track of where he had gone.

After a few minutes of roaming around the museum, you found the man at a counter with candy and merchandise on it. He seemed to be slowly falling asleep at the counter.

“Hey ‘stevie’? Would you be so kind as to continue that explanation you were giving me earlier?”

Hearing your voice, he lifted his head.

“Oh it's you again. I’m sorry for earlier, Donna doesn't like it when I bother the guests here. You could get a real tour from one of our real tour guides.” He tries to direct you to a lady in a black dress, but upon noticing his existence she huffed angrily and stormed away.

“I’m not really on good terms with her. Sorry ‘bout that.” He apologised, figure deflating like a balloon. He scratched his head as silence filled the awkward situation.

Sensing his self confidence sinking lower than the deepest depths of hell by the second, you try to lighten his mood. “Don’t worry about it! That just means that …. You! Can continue giving me an ‘unofficial’ tour of the place. Would that be alright ‘stevie’?”

Slightly shocked by your reaction to the whole situation, it stunned him in his place. Taking some time to come back to the present, he finally replied

“Yeah, I would really like that. Also it's Steven, with a v.”

You nodded as he led you deeper into the exhibit.

“ They’d suck out all your organs, except the heart, because it was needed to be judged by Anubis, the god of the dead. It was weighed against a pure ostrich feather to determine if you were pure of heart. If your heart was heavier than the feather, weighed down by wrongdoings in life, it would be devoured by Ammit, devourer of the dead, and you would cease to exist forever.” He waved his hands trying to emphasise the fearful tale.

“Well I sure hope my heart’s pure enough to not get eaten out of existence by some weird crocodile lady.” You laughed nervously.

He blurted out in embarrassment , “Oh-h i never meant to imply y-your heart wasn’t pure. I’m sure y-you have the p-purest of h-hearts!”

Hearing the compliment made you blush redder than the preserved organs in a jar.

Following the slight seconds of awkward silence Steven decided to continue explaining, “ If your heart w-hich it definitely is, judged pure, Ra, the sun god would take you to Osiris, god of the underworld, and you would be placed in the field of reeds where you would cultivate your own plot of land for all eternity. It’s a place with no sadness or pain, just work.” As he says this he looks longingly at the book of the dead. Steven seemed to be wishing for peace from living life. You stepped closer to him, you laid your hand softly on his shoulder.

“I think that that would be kind of boring right? Without pain or sadness what will joy or happiness be.”

Steven turned to you, smiling gently, “I guess you're right. We surely got it better up here in the land of the living huh?”

“Yeah I would say so”

You met his eyes. They seemed tired from everything, in search of some momentary bliss. Getting lost in his gaze was so easy, but that was suddenly broken.

“The Museum is closing in 15 minutes. All visitors, please proceed to the exit and have a nice day.”

Realising the intimate staring contest you had just been in, you quickly removed your hand from Steven’s shoulder abashedly.

“Steven was it? I really enjoyed the time we had together and was thinking if we could continue seeing each other?” While you knew there was a chance you could get rejected, you never expected the next words that came out of his mouth.

“Are you real?” Standing there, the stillness of all of it made you uncomfortable. The shock of his question held you in your place. What feeling was better to prove your existence than pain? You flicked his forehead as hard as you could.

“Ouch- yeah your r-real. Sorry ‘bout that question. U-uh i would love to. How ‘bout you come over to mine next friday?” Steven rubbed his forehead, nursing the temporary pain.

“I would really like that, just don’t question my existence again ok?” You jabbed back lightly.

“Yeah ok- ok! See you next Friday!”

You and Steven walked to the entrance exchanging numbers before bidding your goodbyes. Steven headed back into the museum. Sadly he had to stock inventory again and could not continue walking you to the bus stop like he wanted. As he placed the plastic toys into boxes he had already started planning for your visit next week.

It felt like his heart was beating the hardest it had ever been.

Steven stumbled his way out of the museum. His shift had finally ended and it was late into the night. He made his way to the park he frequented and found the golden man he always shared his days with. Sitting down beside the man, Steven took out a sandwich and started to ramble

“You won’t believe what happened today. A girl asked me out!” He excitedly stated. The golden man sat there, still.

“Saying that out loud sounds kinda pathetic now. B-but we have a date at my place, next Friday. I'm not risking going to a restaurant again and making her hate me.” Remembering the past occurrence he had vowed not to let it happen a second time.

“But like i said before, can’t really have ankle restraints and sand all around my bed with a girl coming over, can I? That’s the definition of a red flag innit? You know what I mean. Gotta figure something out.”

Finally, Steven had finished airing out all his grievances. He thanked the unmoving man and left some change before heading back home.

The area you had walked into seemed slightly run-down. Graffiti painted the walls, cardboard boxes piled up near garbage containers. You weave your way through the vendors that occupied the street, all trying to earn a living. Arriving in front of Steven’s apartment, you checked the address to ensure you had arrived at the right place. Stepping aside from the broom seller at its entrance, you walked into the apartment building.

The elevator light flickered, and an elderly lady entered the elevator striking up a conversation.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, visiting someone dear?”

“Yeah, on the fifth floor. You too?”

“I’m visiting my old friend Claire.” The elevator dinged on the fifth floor as the doors opened.

“Have a nice day.” You waved goodbye to the elderly lady and walked up to Steven’s apartment door. Knocking on the door did not prompt any response. Knocking again did not help so you decided to call instead.

Steven awoke violently from his bed, ankle restraints holding him back from going any further, causing him to fall flat onto the floor. Picking himself up, he removed his restraints and answered the phone.

“Ello?”

“Steven, I’m outside your door? For our date? It’s Friday.” Hearing this made him panic. It was happening again. Time seemed too fast for him to constantly catch up with. Steven started to sweep as much sand he could under his bed but had a hard time removing the restraints.

“Steven? Are you there?”

“Yes! Just give me a moment!” He hastily peeled off the blue tape and unlocked the door. Staring at you for a while, he took in your appearance. While you didn't really dress up too much you still put together a nice outfit for the occasion.

“So are you going to invite me in?” Steven finally snapped out of his trance, opening the door fully.

Books immediately filled your vision, shelves filled to the brim with them. Walking on the dusty floor, you explored the attic-like apartment.

“S-so uh yeah. W-welcome to my place.” Steven tried to comb his curly bed head with his hands but to no avail, it just made his hair even messier. As you explored the apartment you noticed books of different materials. The topics they contained was extensive, it started from Ancient Egypt to French literature to Dictionaries of other languages. A bookworms’ paradise. Noticing you inching closer to his bed, he suddenly shouted out to catch your attention.

“THIS- is my one-fin wonder Gus. Would you like to feed ‘im?” He guided you over to the fish tank and handed you the sprinkles of fish food. The fish didn't struggle at all, supporting all its swimming with just one fin. As you sprinkled the food into the tank, the fish hurriedly swam to each speck and gobbled each one up.

“He certainly has his own charm even with one fin huh?” Steven nodded as both of you observed the fish aimlessly swimming around, however it seemed like his reflection was staring back at you.

“I feel ‘bit underdressed compared to you. You wouldn’t mind if I went to change and freshen up?” Steven said as he stood in his plain white shirt and grey sweatpants. His hair messy like a mop, could have gained its own sentience.

“Sure! I'll just order some pizza for our dinner.” Moving away from the fish tank, you gave the fish some privacy. Steven entered the fresher with some clean clothes, trying to neaten his unkempt appearance.

Picking up the phone, you dialed a few places, in search for some vegan pizza options near the area. Even though it took awhile, you finally found a pizza place with a vegan margarita pizza that was willing to deliver to the slightly off-putting neighbourhood.

Hoping to watch some TV to pass the time, you turned on the television but could not find a couch to sit on. Deciding to make your watching experience more comfortable, you approach the bed to grab some pillows. However, when you reached the bedside, the floor seemed to feel more grainy than before. There also seemed to be ropes tied around the bedposts that were shoved hastily under the bed. Pulling the ropes, at the end you found restraints.

Just then, Steven exited the fresher and saw the scene that played out in front of him. Slack-jawed, he tried to explain himself in a panic

“Those are for my sleeping disorder! N-not for anything w-weird i p-promise.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Who needs ankle-restraints for a sleeping disorder? For all I know, you might have some interesting habits.” You wiggled your eyebrows joking. This flustered him further, but he explained his unusual situation to you. Right as his explanation ended the doorbell rang. Opening the door you picked up the pizza.

“Have you seeked out professional help for this?” Steven shook his head

“I thought it might just go away on its own so i never went to hospital for it.” He sat down on his bed, wrapping the rope that lay on the floor around his bed post. You hugged the man with your arm, “ Just remember to take care of yourself alright?”

“ I will.”

With your warmth so close, he felt he could stay in your arms forever.

Grabbing the pillows and placing them near the TV, you and Steven settled into the fluffed up pillows with plates of pizza.

A box of old DVD cases were pulled out by Steven. “Would you like to watch a movie? I’ve got a few on DVD, Most of them are documentaries” Digging through the dusty cases, you picked out a case with a screaming lady on the cover.

“How about this one?”

Steven shrugged, “ Why not.”

Placing the DVD in, the screen started to show its title. ‘The Return Of The Cursed Pharaoh’

The movie, surprisingly, was not great. It started with its plot with an archaeologist and his beautiful blond assistant. While she tries to help him through the dig site, she activates all of the booby traps and has to be saved. And of course, Zombie Mummies come into play.

“Oh, come on! Osiris is the king of the underworld. He’s not some boogieman that brings the dead back to life!”

“That’s not even a sacred tablet, it's a cosmetic palette! Where did they find such a detailed replica and not use it right!?”

And many other complaints came from Steven that night as he stuffed his face with the vegan pizza. Turns out a 80s B-horror movie would not be the most accurate representation of ancient Egyptian mythology. Halfway through you decided to tune out the movie completely and just focus on Steven. His face was scrunched up, disagreeing with all the inaccuracies on screen. His lips seemed fixed in a permanent pout.

“You're so cute when you're like this.” Steven heated up at the complement. Someone that was willing to stand his ramblings was tough to find. Finding them cute? That was a completely different question.

“T-thank you.”

Sitting on the pillows, you started to lay on him. Weaving your arm with his, enjoying his closeness. With you wrapped around him like that, it immediately stopped his complaints as the movie went on. How could he concentrate when you were so close to him? While he was tensed up in the beginning, he found the courage to relax and enjoy your embrace.

As the movie starts to roll its credits, the both of you let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s finally over huh.”

“Yep, thank god!” You giggled at Steven’s exclamation

Tearing yourself from his side, you turned to him, “ It was quite bad, but it had its funny moments. Like when the mummy appeared as man badly wrapped in toilet paper. They surely were creative.”

“Mmhm. But I don't think I could have sat through it without you... l-love. Is i-it ok if I call you that?” He fiddled with his hands while looking at you with puppy dog eyes while his head faced towards the ground.

“Only if I get to call you Stevie.”

He blushed at the nickname, “ It's a deal”

Picking up the plates, you started to clean them at the sink while Steven placed the pillows where they belong. Looking behind you, you noticed the post cards pinned up beside his tank.

“Lots of postcards beside Gus’s tank. What an adventurous fish, it seems like he wants to visit the streets of Rome or go up the Eiffel tower.” Steven laughed at your comment as he fluffed up his pillows on his bed.

“Ha-ha yeah! They’re all postcards from me mum, I pin them near his tank so he can see the whole world in his little tank.”

Wiping the plates dry, you placed them back in the cupboard. You walked over to Steven’s side as he arranged his bed. He rested his tired body on the side of the bed, allowing his legs to hang. Laying beside him, you observed his tired eyes starting to close. It’s deep sunken appearance concerned you.

“I think I should be going Steven, you look knackered. I'll let you rest, is that alright?.” Hearing your voice beside him, he shifted onto his side as well. He nodded tiredly. He didn’t want you to leave. It was scary that this could be all a dream and he would wake up with you a passing thought in his head. But he couldn’t keep you here forever.

You moved closer to him. Placing your hand on his face before leaving him with a chastise kiss on his lips. Getting up from the bed, you took your bag and headed out the door.

“Rest well Steven.”

The door closed behind you, leaving Steven alone in the apartment again.

His eyes were wide open, still trying to process the kiss you left him. It was real enough.

Pounding like a hummingbird’s wings, his heart never seemed to stop beating as wildly for you.

#Steven Grant x Reader #steven grant #moon knight #moon knight x reader #marvel #marvel characters #writing #my writing #marvel fanfiction #marvel moon knight

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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years

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“We Go Way Back”

Relationship: Yelena Belova x Reader Warnings: angst, attitude, possible vague Black Widow spoilers Summary: Your and Yelena's date night takes an unexpected turn when a surprise guest shows up at your shared apartment. A/N: So. I saw Black Widow on thursday....i loved SO much.......maybe even found a new comfort character..........and now here we are :) please enjoy

Masterlist

You were just finishing up dinner when two arms snaked around your waist. You giggled, staring down at the sautéed vegetables, as you leaned into your girlfriend’s touch.

"Smells good," she mumbled against your neck. Light kisses were beginning to litter your skin.

You sighed. "Thank you, love," you said, giving everything a final stir before turning off the burners. You went to start carrying items to the table, thinking your girlfriend would let up on her hold on you, but that ended up not being the case.

With a joyous laugh, you playfully scolded her, "Yelena, please," you smiled. "Do you want to eat or not?"

She hummed. Her hands drifted now to your sides and began creeping their way to your hips and thighs. "Depends on what you had in mind."

You let out a faux surprised gasp. "You’re shameless." You shook your head and peeled her hands away from you. She let out a little defeated sigh but you just shot her a playful look and continued with your initial mission of setting the dining table.

Thankfully, this time, Yelena lent a helping hand as opposed to lending her hands…elsewhere. The latter was a common occurrence, especially before date night dinners, such as ones like these. There had been one too many meals you were forced to reheat everything after you let Yelena get carried away.

After the food was placed — a nice spread of local meats, fresh produce, and bakery bread — you began working on getting plates and cutlery. Yelena had taken it upon herself to start breaking out the wine. She brought out two bottles you had just bought that morning based on the recommendation from the butcher. You maybe took cooking and dinners a bit too seriously, hoping everything was right especially when it was for your love.

You set out the cutlery just as Yelena finished pouring two (hefty) glasses of wine. You shot her a smile in thanks and began filling each of your plates. You did have to pat yourself on the back a bit, everything smelled wonderful.

Once you two had full plates and eager stomachs, you sat down and dug in. Yelena immediately let out an exaggerated moan as she practically devoured the meat. You blushed at her enthusiasm.

"This is wonderful, dear," Yelena praised and took a sip of her wine. "Very reminiscent of my momma’s cooking."

Your ears perked up at your girlfriend’s mention of her family. She did that every now and then, slip in random comments about them. You liked trying to explore it but knew the topic was a delicate one. You trod carefully.

"Yeah?" You asked, moving some vegetables around on your plate. "Did she cook a lot?"

Yelena shrugged. "We’d have dinners together, all of us, pretty much every night."

All of us. You had heard so far of a mother and a father but could there be more? Or were you reading too much into it?

Eventually, you settled on, "Family dinners sound very nice." That was enough, you thought. Just safe but still engaged. You eyed Yelena as she continued to eat. She hadn’t noticed you stalled or, well, she probably did, but wasn’t saying anything. You took large gulps of your wine, impulsively.

Just as your liquid courage was getting to you to maybe inquire further about your lover’s family, a hard knock at the front door disrupted the entire dinner. Both of your movements stopped abruptly. You looked between the door and your girlfriend.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked.

Yelena shook her head. Her fork dropped with a loud clang as she pushed away from the table. In quick, determined strides she collected the gun kept in the side table in the living room. You watched her, quite stunned by her response. You don’t think you ever actually saw any of her guns come into action. When you first moved in, she just explained they were a precaution. You never asked what kind of precaution. You feared you were getting your answer now as Yelena walked to the entryway.

Gun drawn, pointed dead on with the wooden door, she called out, "Who is it?"

"You can put the gun down." Surprisingly, that was a female voice answering your girlfriend’s demand. Your brows furrowed in curiosity. You watched for Yelena’s reaction but she was still so stoic and intense.

Yelena scoffed. "Are you sure?"

Probably a bit foolishly, you decided to chime in. "Love," you said, "is everything okay?"

The female on the other side of the door spoke again, this time with an element of shock in her voice. "Love?"

Yelena let out a dramatic sigh as she relaxed her stance and surrendered her gun, placing it on the little table in the foyer. What seemed to be a bit reluctantly, Yelena opened the door forcefully.

Despite the mystery woman finally being revealed, it answered approximately zero of your questions. There, in the doorway, stood a redhead whose unamusing expression mixed with a slight smugness matched your girlfriend’s. The two just stared at one another, neither dared to move, as if they were challenging one another to try it.

Curiosity finally getting the best of you, you stood from the dining table and slowly made your way to the front door. Your fingers fumbled in nervousness as you stepped with caution.

"Hi, there," you said with a weak smile and gentle wave. The redhead’s eyes flicked over to you only briefly. Still, you continued, "Are you alright? Do you need something?"

"Oh, do I."

Yelena shook her head. "The only thing she needs is to leave."

You turned to your girlfriend, "Who is she?"

"Natasha," the redhead explained. "Me and your love here," she nodded towards Yelena, "we go way back."

You didn’t know how she had the air in her but Yelena let out another ridiculous sigh and stomped away. Like some defeated child, she took her seat once more at the dining table. You had never seen her like this before, so unattached and dismissive. You wracked your brain on how to mend this.

You turned back to Natasha. "Please, come in." Natasha took the offer quite well and gave you a nod of thanks before entering the apartment. You followed her into the dining room.

"We were just starting dinner," you explained as you raced for the kitchen, grabbing Natasha her own set. "Sit, have some food."

Natasha mumbled a "thanks" as you began filling her plate now with food. You even offered up some wine despite Yelena’s weird look she shot you when you reached for it. You ignored her odd behavior and took your seat once more. Somehow, the tension from the situation just got worse. Neither woman was eating now.

You cleared your throat as you prepared to dig into your meal once more. "I hope it’s still warm. If not, I can pop everything in the oven to warm."

No one said anything.

"Alright then…" You shrugged. "If I may, how exactly do you two know each other?"

That was the question that opened the flood gates. Yelena turned to you abruptly. "She’s my sister."

"Sort of," the redhead quickly retorted.

Your jaw went slack. Your appetite completely abandoned you now as your interest was greatly piqued. "Your sister?" You asked and looked between the two women. Well, they didn’t really look alike…

"Not biologically," Yelena explained. "We just kind of…lived together for a while."

"I see," you nodded. You scraped your fork against your plate, awkwardly. "If I may again, what brings you here, Natasha?"

The question certainly made Yelena perk up as she stared down her sister — or, whatever they considered each other. You resisted the urge to grab her hand under the table, unsure of what level of affection she was comfortable showing in front of this woman.

"Some business to attend to." Short and sweet. You felt these two were definitely related on some level.

"This couldn’t have waited until the morning?" Yelena gritted.

Natasha shrugged. "I guess it could’ve but then, apparently, I would’ve missed out on this lovely dinner with you and your… your, what? Girlfriend?" She took a bite of food. "Hmm, tastes close to someone else’s cooking." A shrug. "Anyways, I didn’t know you dated."

"You don’t know a lot of things."

"Okay!" You explained, trying to salvage whatever was left of this civilized conversation. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before turning to your flustered state. "We’re very happy you dropped in, right, love?" You glanced at Yelena. "And you’re more than welcome to stay, Natasha. I’m afraid all we have to offer is the couch if that would be okay."

Natasha glanced behind you at the living room before nodding. "That would be great," she smiled.

***

It wasn’t until you were standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the dishes from dinner that Yelena approached you to talk. Natasha was off getting ready for bed and your girlfriend hopped on this opportunity.

"I’m so sorry," she said as she stood beside you, taking on the role of the dryer in your little dishwasher assembly line. "I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry she dropped by, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her—,"

"Love," you shook your head, giving her a sympathetic look, "it’s okay. I’m not really mad you didn’t tell me or that she’s here. From what I gather, it’s a complicated relationship."

Yelena let out an annoyed huff. "You have no idea." A beat. "But, still. I shouldn’t hide these things from you. She was a big part of my life and now you… you’re a big part of my life. It’s only fair."

Your heart warmed at her admission. She could be quite the affectionate one when she wanted to be. Quickly, you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She tried hiding her blush but failed beautifully.

"For what it’s worth, she seems very interesting," you shrugged. "I think she could be fun to get to know. Probably has a few embarrassing stories about you as a child."

Yelena gasped. "Don’t even think about it."

"Too late," you giggled, mentally marking that down as a subject for conversation. A brief silence passed over you two as you finished up with the dishes. Reaching the end of the chore, you said, "So, should I be on the lookout for any other siblings?"

Your girlfriend chuckled. "No," she admitted. "Natasha is it."

You let out a content hum in understanding. "One day we should have them all over."

"Them?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "your whole family. A nice, big family dinner. That could be exciting, right?"

Yelena rolled her eyes. Whether it was playful or not, you couldn’t quite tell. "That’s certainly one way to describe it."

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gayofthefae · 2 years

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! This is pro platonic Mleven at the expense of romantic Mleven and pro Byler but also pro all three of them individually and having relationships to one another ! If you do not want to read it, I would rather you stop here than anger yourself and comment ! Save us both some stress !

Currently operating under the perception that El was going to break up with Mike (officially, because the Wheelers do love their grey-area breakups) in the pizza diner by saying “I missed you...but” and that she has reached a place of “you are sweet for trying and I know you don’t have control over it but if you tell me you love me at this point I won’t believe you because I had to request it repeatedly” AND that Mike has been self aware since the van/painting scene and is reluctantly lying to save her.

In the pizza diner scene, she’s laughing but her face falls before saying “I missed you” then looks to him for reaction/to check in (something people don’t tend to do when they are finished speaking). And when he first mentions the “last talk they had” it can be assumed where this is going, and she notices too. She raises her eyebrows in anticipation/curiosity but she still stays frowning.

As for Mike, as is represented by the blackout glasses, this is his last ditch effort to “block out” his feelings. He is internally reminding himself that El commissioned that painting, and that El said all those things about him, and that he loves the person who said those things, who is El. He is still rejecting the idea [”Blasphemous”]. Initially, the blackout glasses represent his refusal by attempting, once again, to say “I love you” to her but this effort is also immediately interrupted by the pineapple pizza scene - which is about writing something off as bad because you haven’t tried it then when forced to confront, finding that you actually do like it. Somewhere in that giant metaphor, his resistance did give out naturally.

Now, to the love speech scene itself. One of my favourite things about that previous scene is that right before they try to have that romantic conversation and once Argyle joins and cuts the tension, they relax so much into their friendship. They’re just joking and having fun. It represents everything I love about their relationship. The thing is - those things that I love aren’t inherently romantic, and it is actually because they stopped the romantic moment that they were allowed to happen.

So I think that Mike has it rough right now internally morally speaking: he has lost the ability to resist his feelings for Will, who then proceeds to repeat to him “you’re the heart!” which he can no longer pretend he loves hearing because “El said it”. There are many posts including my own that recap how Mike’s entire speech is in direct response to Will’s earlier so I’m not gonna go over it again, just repeat that fact. He starts with “I’m here” in response to the first line of Will’s speech: “she’s been so lost without you”. Then he purses his lips before continuing - literally tensing before pushing out the first “I love you”. He then continues in the romance of the speech with what he believes she wants to hear. It likely feels very bad to do this, but he can excuse himself because her life takes precedent. He knows he is lying, but he’d rather she be heartbroken than dead.

So he continues, and I think that at some points he honestly does fall into it as he continues to repeat it. Because the longer he talks with the awareness that the romance is a lie, the more he can understand how to tell it as the truth. So I think that he really does love her on her good and bad days; with and without her powers as well as just thinking they’re really cool; he really does remember that Benny’s Burgers t-shirt fondly - as her friend who loves her. So he is half lying/forcing it and half-honest. The feeling and passion with which he’s saying the words is honest, it’s just that the words aren’t completely.

Now for El’s reaction to this speech: when he first says “I’m here” and she hears his voice, again, her face does not change. This is very strange that there is no relief on her face even just from the comfort of hearing his voice despite their fight. But she was going to break up with him in that diner. She was going to say “I understand and I’m not mad at you for not being able to but it is why I think we should be friends instead of dating”. So when she hears his voice, I think she knows what’s coming. She knows he’s lying. It took him too long; she had to beg too much for this to be honest. She knows that he loves her - in the way that he would lie to save her. She knows that he would jump off a cliff for Dustin’s teeth and lie if he believed it would save her. If she moves her face at all during most of it, it isn’t towards a smile. Because that’s all during the cliche lines from movies. She watches those romance movies; she knows the lines he’s quoting. And they’re fiction. The one time she does smile is when he mentions the Benny’s shirt: that’s real. That’s genuine. That’s something based in his love of her and their friendship. And she can feel the difference. But her face drops once again as soon as he continues to say “I loved you since that day” because she knows the falsities are resuming. We see that relief again towards “I can’t lose you” and other non-explicitly-romantic or cliche lines. Because she feels them. She feels that they’re honest. The rest of the time, she is hard-faced. And not in the way that he is giving her strength. If that were the case, we would see her internalize it first and then transition, but we don’t. We see the tension first. Even the way they shot her looking over to Max at the end - and I find this very important - is not as though he motivated her to apply these feelings he provided to Max. It is shot at a different angle than we have seen her in the rest of the time and she starts looking forwards, as she was, before looking over towards Max. When she looks over, her face also changes again and it should be noted that she looked over as Max began to make a choking noise. Mike’s speech was sweet and I think there were moments that she felt that, but ultimately, well-intended as it may have been, I think it was a distraction. Max’s sounds brought her back and reminded her of the pressing matter at hand (which Mike also didn’t know about). I think that his speech did provide some encouragement but not more than it wasted time for her, so when he tells her to fight in the end, it may be encouraging. But not nearly enough to be credited to him. It should also be noted that throughout the rest of this speech - before attention being drawn to Max again - she was not making an effort to/successfully loosening the vines. There is no reason that his speech would only give her strength after it was all over. Any singular line that helped that much should have been able to help her immediately but it didn’t because that isn’t ultimately what motivated her. She looked over at Max dying and got angry. Meanwhile, Mike was screaming for her to fight and whether this supported her or helped by making her more angry over his lying/distraction is up to you, but ultimately, her love for Max motivated her - not Mike’s love for her. We see her as she uses her powers. She is angry for Max, not empowered by Mike. She is enraged and that is what she used as she screams at Henry.

This is also supported by the scenes of Max we’re shown when El resurrects her, which all represent what Max is to her and how it is the exact opposite of everything Mike was saying. That could definitely help fuel the coldness to him we see in her. It makes sense, really. You’re grieving someone you loved from being different from someone else; you’re grieving someone who wasn’t the most fond of someone else; that someone else stalled you saving them; so you just want to have some space from them right now.

I think that he is angry at herself for not making it in time to prevent Max’s death. And I think this anger extends to Mike for distracting her. Of course, she consciously knows that he had no way of knowing what was going on or that he wasn’t helping, but the emotion still extends and this supports both her coldness and comment about fearing she wasn’t ready. She is angry with both herself and him because she fixed it (Max’s death specifically), but she didn’t stop it. And this also makes a lot of sense for why she is cold but not confrontational or anything of the like. She knows it isn’t fair to him to be angry at him for the way he affected a situation he didn’t know about. But she still just doesn’t want to be around him right now. And it makes me wonder about that offscreen conversation about Brenner and what her tone towards Mike was about worrying she wasn’t enough. Whether it was targeted or confiding in him, we don’t get to know. In this anger being non-confrontational, though, she still, of course, does seek physical comfort in him at the hospital. It makes sense in the same way that she felt the honesty in a few of those lines and the same way that Mike allowed himself to lie. There are exceptions and in that moment, she wanted comfort more than she wanted to be angry. But when she doesn’t need that comfort from him, she returns to removing herself.

In conclusion, El was going to break up with Mike gently because she understood that he was trying but that didn’t change the fact that he couldn’t love her. This understanding was especially brought out in contrast to Brenner, who used similar wording and was even able to say he loved her, unlike Mike, making her realize that what she wanted wasn’t inherently someone who could say it. It provided a certain appreciation for what Mike was to her. Though she wanted more from him, he wasn’t controlling in trying to give it to her. There were moments of lying but she was given immediate stark contrast to them with Brenner’s controlling intentions vs Mike’s defensiveness. So she was going to break up with him to stay friends. She was going to say “I missed you...which is why I want to reunite in a better way than we were before because it just wasn’t working”. And Mike was trying so hard to love her and utterly confused at why he wasn’t able to say it until he casually confided in Will as he always did and Will gave him the painting. And that cheered him up immediately. But then he found it was from El and - despite that being the information he asked for - he was disappointed...and that direct information was a little hard to explain away. So after Will’s speech, he focused instead and tried to apply the idea that he felt love towards El for originally saying those things, not Will when they came out of his mouth, pointedly ignoring to himself any contradictory information. But that last ditch effort was interrupted and he did not have enough left in him for another. So he enjoyed the moment of friendship and by the time he was confronted again with saying “I love you” and Will said “you’re the heart”, he couldn’t deny his internal reaction. But in that moment, her life was more important, so he muscled through it in an attempted combination of what he believed were her words for what she wanted to hear and his genuine love of her as a friend. But El could feel the dishonesty it hurt in a complicated sort of way because she knew it was well-intended but she also couldn’t hand anything else right now. So when Max started choking, she shifted her focus to Max only and tried to save her. But she couldn’t in time. She found a way to bring her back and thought of all the happy memories of independence that came up with thoughts of her and it all compiled. She was able to bring her back to life but not consciousness, so still in grief, she knew that Mike had meant well so she was able to talk to him briefly about her grief and rest her head on his shoulder but with the time he took with his speech and the things Max represented and reminded her of and the original breakup intention still in her mind, she just didn’t want to be around him very much right now. So she wasn’t. And Mike was self aware now. And he was relieved she was alive. And he wanted to be of comfort to her. But she wasn’t coming to him for it very much, so he just sat down with Will. Because that brought him comfort and there’s not much denial or avoidance could do anymore anyways.

Here’s to Mike and El season 5 bestieism that they themselves want now but don’t know the other does after she gets her space from him for a moment! I love them and I want them to be happy and I genuinely believe the best way that they can be is to be friends. And with Mike knowing that Will is romantic to him, the spot for “best friend” is opening up so...

#stranger things #mike wheeler analysis #this is an e l analysis but i am afraid to put that because i don't want mlevens coming after me thinking being anti their ship = anti e l #byler #will byers #gd i really love my girl jane but i really hate people equating disliking mleven to disliking her #it's really misogynistic to base her character around him so much that you view opinions of the two as inseparable #and i am scared of those people so #know i love my girl and i am tagging her in spirit #platonic elmax #<< hopefully that does the trick to get the right people here #mike wheeler #elmax analysis

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Ezra and Fulcrum’s Wacky Adventure

Ezra's attempt to save Ahsoka on Malachor by fucking around with space-time goes wonky, and the two of them end up in the first year of TCW... with Vader in pursuit.

"You're Ahsoka... from the future?"

"Sure am, Skyguy."

"And that's your padawan."

"A friend's padawan. His master died recently, and I'm keeping an eye on him until we figure something out."

"Right, right... and, uh, mister tall, Dark, and horrifying?"

"Oh, that's future you."

"..."

"Yeah, Palpatine's a Sith Lord and he's been grooming you for a decade. Shit’s fucked. Anyway, get ready to jump, Vader’s gaining on us."

I just have this mental image of hyper-competent "I am no Jedi" Fulcrum leading 20yo Anakin and angstiest ever Ezra on a merry ride called "avoid Vader before he kills us all."

Intermittently she tries to talk Vader down with "Padme's still alive!" and that sort of not-quite-reassurance, and Anakin is getting very concerned about... many things.

Smol Ahsoka is very "future me scares me." Like yeah Fulcrum is a badass but Fulcrum is also incredibly blase about like. Really horrifying things.

Fulcrum's had a long time to come to terms with "Vader is probably Anakin" and a week or two to come to terms with "Vader is DEFINITELY Anakin and also trying to kill me and this child (teenager) I'm currently in charge of." She's coping by making very morbid jokes and being scarily calm about things, and just overall Very Unperturbed about, like, an explosion going off two feet away from her.

She keeps dropping bombs like "Yeah, all the clones have mind-control chips in their heads with orders to kill us or themselves and I remember like a solid half of you trying to kill me in particular, it was a very formative experience for how I dealt with the rise of the Empire" with the most unassuming, bland smiles.

Everyone's horrified except Fulcrum herself and Ezra, who grew up in the Empire and has never known anything else, but ALSO he's consistently freaking out and having negative reactions to shinies and even some of the older clones because even painted phase one armor is setting off 'These are stormtroopers' PTSD.

So there's:

- that general "Vader fucks around and everyone, including Sidious and Tyranus, is trying to figure out the identity of this absolute motherfucker wrecking everyone's shit with no restraint or apparent care in target allegiance"

- "a friend from The Future shows up to tell you about the horrible, horrible fate everyone is going to suffer, now you have to fix it"

- "Future Me tried to kill The Little Sister?????"

Do you think your teenager is traumatized now, Anakin? Think again! In eighteen years, it's going to be so much worse, and it's going to be in large part your fault!

Fulcrum, smiling: Humor makes the trauma bearable.

Anakin: [concerned noises]

@atagotiak: I have this mental image of Anakin and Fulcrum making the very inadvisable decision to spar

Fulcrum thinks she’s able to handle it. She’s not.

She has the skills! But. Uh. Panic attacks are fun, especially when they take the form of "my brain flipped a switch and I could no longer process that this was a spar and not a fight to the death."

Ezra suggests that maybe she'd be better off sparring with General Kenobi instead of Skywalker. Ezra can spar with Mini-Soka and Anakin, he's fine with that. He knows Vader is Anakin but it's just a Fact, like "there are this many stars in the Chommel sector." It's certainly true but he has no emotional connection to this information.

Tia: It’s not great for Fulcrum mentally and also tbh it seems like there might be a risk of her injuring Anakin. Probably not too seriously just because the sabers aren’t gonna be full power but still, seems like something to avoid

Does she flinch around non-Rex 501st clones? Probably!

Fulcrum: Here's a list of clones we're likely to encounter that I'm not going to panic around.

Anakin: ...there’s only three names on this list.

Fulcrum: Yeah.

Tia: Trying to figure out what her opinion of Bail Organa must be. Which is complicated by how I haven’t seen Rebels.

I mean yeah there’s some degree of trust and respect and stuff there. But in the novel at least I didn’t really get any friendship vibe from them. To be fair I’m pretty sure they barely knew each other at the point.

“He’s trustworthy but a much sneakier motherfucker than anyone gives him credit for.”

"We aren't friends but I would lay down my life for him without hesitation"

"He's very soft compared to Jedi or clones but he's almost stupidly brave and apparently tried to help when he saw the Temple go up in flames, it's wild."

"But you're not friends?"

"Nah, future Bail was kind of my boss and I saw him once every two years if that. He has my ultimate respect, though. Ten outta ten, would become a black ops agent for again."

Tia: “Also his office is very fun to break into”

The looks that last one gets her.

Obi-Wan was nodding along because Yeah, he Gets It, Bail is incredibly impressive for a politician, he's a good man with a good heart and nerves of steel! Obi-Wan also finds him worthy of total loyalty! This is all--his office is What.

Fulcrum: Hey, you wanna know something terrible?

Anakin: No.

Fulcrum: Too bad, telling you anyway.

Fulcrum gets a lot of mileage out of being the future version of one of Anakin's current Five Most Important People (Obi-Wan, Padme, Ahsoka, Palpatine, Rex) since the twins haven't been born yet and Shmi's already dead.

Also, Tia pointed out that Caleb is like eleven at this point, and that’s very awkward for Ezra.

#Ezra Bridger #Ahsoka Tano #Fulcrum #Anakin Skywalker #Darth Vader #Bail Organa #Obi Wan Kenobi #time travel #sw rebels #star wars #the clone wars #Phoenix Posts

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ficsforeren · 3 years

Note

more mafia eren headcanons pls 🤲

MORE??????? okay if you insist

So uhh this will be a continuation for this scene I wrote earlier

NSFW - DON'T READ IF YOU'RE BELOW 18

Eren tosses your knife to the side, making a clattering sound as it meets the floor. "Any other tricks of yours I should be aware of?" His voice is soothing in your ear but the gun he points to your neck is anything but.

You struggle to break free. "Get your hands off me."

"Fine," he huffs, drawing back from you. "I guess I'll just have to investigate it myself."

He pushes you forward until you're pressed flat against the wall, his gun pointing at the spot between your shoulder blades. "Arms above your head, Sweetheart," he says but his tone is merciless. "One wrong move and I'll shoot a hole through your chest."

Your breathing rags, raising both hands as he asked you to. "Good girl," he coos and it makes you sick. You can feel his hand sliding down your body, following the curve of your ass before it slips behind the high slit of your red maxi dress. He reaches between your legs, making you jolt when his fingers glide over your lingerie. "Such a cute reaction," he chuckles but he presses the point of his gun harder on your skin. "You won't be needing this." Eren rips your lingerie with one hand, casting it aside.

You're scared to your bones. Terrified. "Please stop."

He drags his hand to the front of your stomach, pulling you closer until you can feel his zipper grazing against your behind. "And what if I don't?"

But he stops once he feels you shuddering in fear. He turns you around and lifts your face by pushing his gun to your chin. His eyes find your glassy ones and even when you're glaring with so much hatred in your eyes, you're trying your best not to cry. Even if it means that you have to bite your lip until it bleeds. He smiles, reaching out a hand and you close your eyes in reflex but what he does is frames your cheek gently. "As much as I like seeing my women cry in bed," he says, "I'm not a rapist."

You thought he was going to murder you instead so when he draws his gun away and tucks it back into the pocket of his suit, you nearly weep in relief. "It's been fun, Sweetheart," he bids his goodbye as you slide down to the floor, knees trembling. "I look forward to seeing you again." And he shuts the bathroom door behind him.

He could've killed you, but he didn't. He should've been, knowing you were out there to kill him, but he didn't. And now you owe him your life.

Sick of having that thought for days, you decide to visit him again.

Eren is lying down on a bed of an overly-priced suite with his black suit discarded, his gun lying on the floor and his white shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest when you slip through his door.

"Your lady won't be coming back," you tell him, dressed in a red trench coat that perfectly hugs your body. Eren props himself up with his elbows on the bed, his smirk naturally finds its way to his face. His gun is close enough for him to reach. He just decides not to.

Even in the dimness of the room, you can still see the bulge that's concealed by the silk fabric of his pants. There are lipstick stains on his shirt, and some on the side of his neck.

“Well, that’s unfortunate," he says, not surprised in the slightest. "I'd spent a good amount of money to rent her for the night. Heterochromatic eyes. Very rare.”

"You've got a peculiar taste in women."

“Yeah, looks better on camera.” He shifts his weight, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hair is no longer tied, cascading to his shoulders and framing his cheekbones perfectly. “How many of my guards did you take down to get in here?”

“Three. You know, you should’ve considered hiring bodyguards that are stronger than you.”

“Yeah, you couldn’t even lift a finger against me." He chuckles at the memory. "Well I used to have Levi, but he quits for good.” He takes a cigarette from the pocket of his suit. “Did you kill them?”

“No. I didn’t want to leave dead bodies in such a nice hotel like this.”

“How very thoughtful of you.” He tucks the cigar between his teeth, lighting it up.

“I wouldn’t mind if it was yours, though," you add. "If anyone should die tonight, it should be you.”

“But you can’t kill me." His eyes twinkle mischievously as he leans back and takes a long drag. "So, what are you planning to do?”

"Why didn't you kill me?"

"'Cause you're cute." He brings his cigar to his lips, smirking as he continues, "And I kinda like your face. Wouldn't hate to see it again."

"You should've killed me. Now I feel like I owe you my life."

"You do." He flicks the ashes off. "So, I'm guessing you're here to repay me?" You stay mute but your eyes tell him the answer he wants to hear. "What do you have to offer?"

"Let me join your little boyband. I can be useful to you."

He snorts. "You couldn't even put up a fight against me, why would I want you?"

Your jaw clenches. "Then what do you want me to do?"

Something flickers in his eyes at your choice of words. He takes another drag, standing up and makes his way to the balcony. "Come. The moon looks beautiful tonight." You hesitate for a few seconds before you follow his trail.

Eren leans his back against the railing, throwing his head back as he lets the wind caresses his face. He looks... beautiful, as if he didn't belong to that kind of world. His eyelashes are long, probably longer than yours and those lips—

"Strip."

"What?"

"Strip for me," he repeats, dragging his cigar closer to his lips. "Here. Now." You keep your body still, your glare menacing, though your heart starts to thrash wildly inside your chest. "You said you wanted to repay me, right?"

“I thought you said you weren’t a rapist.”

“I’m not." He exhales clouds of smoke into the air. "I’m not forcing you, am I? I’m only asking you. Whether you do it or not is up to you.”

You can't believe you just called him beautiful. He's fucking sick.

“And you also owe me an escort," he grins lightly as he tosses the rest of his cigarette away, "You’re not heterochromatic but you do have pretty eyes.”

You feel your breathing stutter as he makes his way to you. “You want me to sleep with you?”

“No." In a blink of an eye, Eren has his hand on the front of your throat, pushing you against the glassy window until you're standing on your tiptoes. Your hands are clutching tightly against his wrist, nails scratching his skin to push him away but he only smiles that fucking innocent smile of his that always seems out of place. But when he speaks, another persona takes over.

"I want to fuck you," he says the words through gritted teeth, almost like he's growling. You can feel his breath falling on your lips, can sense the aftertaste of the cigarette he just took. “I want to fuck you raw until you cry. I want to fuck you until you can’t say anything, can't think about anything but my cock inside you. I want to fuck you until you beg me to stop and when you do, I'm gonna fuck you even harder."

You're choking, your lungs starting to catch on fire. "C-can't... breathe..."

And instead of letting you go, he smashes his lips against yours, and he's so rough with his teeth and tongue that you won't be surprised if yours start to bleed. You gasp against his mouth, desperate for air and only after he's satisfied, does he let go.

Retracting his hand, Eren brings back his juvenile smile to his face, hand gently frames your cheek as he whispers in your ear. “But again," his lips brush against your skin. "It’s all up to you, Sweetheart.”

#ENJOOOOOYYYYYY YOUR MEAL #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader smut #eren headcanons

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opalesense · 4 years

Text

dinners at diluc’s

kaeya & f!reader & diluc (NSFW)

5.5k words • ~40 min. read

summary: after lightheartedly joking about a threesome for the past few weeks, a drunken kaeya decides to shamelessly suggest that diluc should join in on all the fun.

warnings: alcohol, facefucking, double penetration, bondage, overstimulation, big dicked duo !!

notes: reader is in a relationship with kaeya before all this (kind of a sequel to this!) and thank you so much for 100 followers! i hope you enjoy this as a token of my appreciation <3

DINNERS AT DILUC’S MANOR used to be as rare as a sighting of a dragon in Mondstadt. Though, over the past few months, Diluc and Kaeya have been slowly rebuilding their previously severed bonds over weekly meals together in an effort to achieve some sort of reconciliation. It was mostly my idea, but I’m sure after all these years of unforgiving distance, they were secretly grateful I was the one to finally push them towards reunion. With the strong sense of pride and swelled ego they shared, they wouldn’t outwardly show it, of course.

Despite the good progress they were finally making now, I won’t forget that it started as a painstaking process.

At first, the meals were tense and rather snappy, the boys sarcastically ganging up on me for forcing them into a room together when they “clearly had nothing to say to each other,” as Diluc remarked during the first dinner. Kaeya had agreed with silence, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, impatiently waiting for the night to be over. All I could do was sigh and pray things would get better from there.

But now Kaeya had a drink in his hand, one that was made personally by Diluc despite having kitchen staff who could’ve done it for him. The brothers were riding waves of laughter, reminiscing on good memories and inside jokes with grins planted on both of their faces. They bounced stories off of each other as if they were completing each other’s thoughts, their minds so in sync – just like they used to be when they were growing up together.

My heart fluttered to see a look of genuine happiness on Kaeya’s face. I could tell he’s been wanting a moment like this, a moment to truly reconnect with his only family, for a long time. And one glance at Diluc told me he was thoroughly enjoying the night as well, his smile breaking the usual stoic façade he upheld. So even after the meal was already finished and the staff had cleared the table then went to their quarters for the night, I sat and listened to their stories despite being unable to contribute anything to the conversation. Even though it was getting late, how could I possibly interrupt this rare moment?

Then Kaeya had swiftly downed his drink. So he asked for another. And another. Then we collectively moved from the dining room to the living room to warm up by the fireplace. Kaeya asked for another drink. Then one more.

“Kaeya, don’t you think that’s enough to drink for tonight? We still have to walk home,” I gently reminded him, feeling bad for interrupting the conversation so suddenly. But it was getting extremely late. I was getting extremely tired and cranky for sitting around and doing nothing for the past few hours but mindlessly listen to the men talk.

“I’m having so much fun, sweetheart. Just one more?” he teased me by making puppy eyes at me, “Please~?”

“Kaeya...”

“No need to worry about him, [Y/N],” Diluc politely waved off my request, “I could always walk you guys home – it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to drag him along after a night of drinking. Or better yet, you two can stay in the guest bed upstairs then return home tomorrow morning when he’s sobered up.”

I placed a hand on Kaeya’s arm. “Would that be okay with you? If we spend the night in his guest bed? I’m rather exhausted.”

“Guest bed? Why don’t we just spend the night in Diluc’s bed!” Kaeya’s words began slurring as he giggled, “Maybe we can have that lil’ threesome we’ve been talking about.”

My mind snapped awake immediately, eyes widening as I nervously glanced to Diluc who also had his jaw slightly dropped in shock. “K-Kaeya, you really must watch what you’re saying–“

“Aw, don’t act all shy now, sweetheart!” He took his eyes off of me to face Diluc, who was now clearly perplexed. I sat perplexed as well, unsure of how I was going to come up with an excuse for what he said. Because it was true. We had been lightheartedly talking about having a threesome lately. But mentioning it to Diluc of all people on such a wholesome night like this made my heart quickly sink. He must be appalled.

“Diluc, I’m so sorry, you know he says too much when he’s drunk-“

“No, no, but it’s true! ‘Luc, you wouldn’t believe how much we’ve been talking about fuckin’ around with an extra... fuckin’...” Kaeya’s face began to soften at the realization of his actions as his gaze turned to the floor. “Oh... shit.”

The three of us sat to process what had just happened for a moment, the firewood softly crackling to fill the silence. I didn’t know if I was feeling embarassment, awkwardness, anxiety, or all of it at the same time. All I knew was that for some twisted reason, the sudden mention of our fantasy out loud to Diluc made my thighs slightly twitch in excitement without thinking. How in the world did I just get aroused? I internally shamed myself.

Diluc was the first to break the silence. “So... how long have you been thinking about this again?”

“Diluc!” I snapped at him, not wanting him to encourage the thought. But one look at him and I could tell he was dead serious about the matter. Embarassment definitely kicked in now through a blush that quickly crept up to my cheeks. Are we really going to discuss this right now?

Kaeya took a slow sip of his drink, finally putting some thought into what he was going to say. But just as I hoped he was going to take this opportunity to dismiss the topic entirely, to my dismay, he quickly muttered, “A few weeks now.”

“Kaeya!” I smacked his arm lightly. My body shrunk into the sofa in disbelief. But my thoughts were racing along with my heartbeat. Diluc seemed to express genuine interest immediately after the initial period of shock. It was almost as if he had been thinking about it lately too. I couldn’t help but imagine the things that these two could do to me, or imagine specifically what Diluc was thinking about doing with us to be interested in the first place. Even though I hated to admit it, jolts of excitement started to tickle my nerves throughout my entire body but I didn’t dare show it. I can’t believe this is conversation is actually happening. I can’t believe we could actually do this.

Diluc leaned back into his chair with a content hum. “If you’re seriously offering... I can’t say I would be opposed to the idea.”

“Now that’s my man!” Kaeya excitedly pointed to Diluc, who then slyly chuckled in response. Kaeya exchanged glances between me and Diluc a few times before finally settling on Diluc. “Wait, you’re actually serious?”

“Are you actually serious?”

“Tell him, [Y/N], am I being serious?” Kaeya poked my leg, which elicited another twitch at the sudden touch. I looked up at him dumbfoundedly, failing to find words when I was getting embarassingly aroused. “I don’t think I’ve been more serious about something in my life, brother!”

“I can’t believe the two of you right now,” I scoffed as I stood up, snapping myself out of the fantasies bubbling in my head. There was no way we would actually do it, after all, the brothers were getting along but not that closely. “Diluc, can you show me to the guest room, please? I’ll go to bed while the two of you joke about this convulted fantasy.”

“Joke? C’mon, sweetheart! You know we’ve been talking about it!” Kaeya stood up to follow me to the main floor of the manor with Diluc trailing along, “Don’t play innocent just because Diluc’s around.”

The three of us climbed the stairs, the two brothers still trailing behind. “It’ll be the last room down the hall once you turn left,” Diluc directed me. Kaeya hummed in what sounded like satisfaction.

“Just look at that ass, ‘Luc. You know, you can touch her if you want, I wouldn’t mind,” I immediately turned around once I heard Kaeya mutter those words and glared at him. They both stopped in their tracks at the same time, Kaeya returning a stare more intimidating than mine and Diluc’s eyes trailing to the floor. I felt so small under the lust in his sapphire eyes, which were staring me down with a craving to touch me.

“Listen, sweetheart, I know you’re being a brat right now but once we get our hands on you...” he stepped close enough to place his gloved hand on my thigh, shooting a chill up my spine and causing my thighs to squeeze together. I didn’t want to let him know that I wasn’t entirely opposed to this idea either but my body couldn’t control itself. My core was secretly craving his touch. He noticed my subtle reaction and let out a low chuckle.

“Ah, I can tell you’re excited. Just keep walking, baby. You can drop that innocent act now and show Diluc how much of a slut you can be, okay? Can you do that for me?”

I didn’t have the energy to hide it anymore, let alone answer him with words. I let my lips quiver as I turned back around, taking a few more steps up the stairs then walking down the hall while the brothers exchanged inaudible whispers with each other, presumably about me. My instincts told me they were plotting behind my back but they were so quiet that I couldn’t make out any real words. Before my hand could reach for the doorknob, Kaeya’s arm got ahead of me and gripped the knob himself. “Let me get that for you, sweetheart.”

He opened the door and walked inside first. The room was surprisingly larger than I expected for a guest room. A large bed sat near the wall and with a glance to the side I could see it faced a large vanity. The rest of the room consisted of a warddrobe, drawers, a seating area, and a bookshelf.

“This used to be my room, you know,” Kaeya pivoted his heels to face me while placing his drink down on top of one of the nearby drawers. “Diluc picked a good room for us. Hopefully it’s just how I left it.”

“It should be,” Diluc followed close behind as I stepped forward to get a better look of the space. “I never asked any of the staff to touch this room aside from the occasional dusting and I don’t get many visitors who need to spend the night.”

“Perfect,” Kaeya smirked. That grin usually indicated he was plotting something. My stomach was a mess of excitement, curiosity, and anxiety at the same time. Was this really happening?

He knelt down to pull out the bottom drawer in front of him and rummaged through his belongings to pull out a bundle of something, though I couldn’t tell exactly what it was from the dim lighting of the room. “Just as I had hoped.”

He hid the item behind his back as he stood up and took a step towards me, gently planting a kiss on my forehead. He then began to shower my face with kisses, wrapping his arms around me in a cute embrace and making me giggle. Just as I was about to push him away in jest, he simply said two words that made my heart stop. “Now, Diluc.”

Before I could react or comprehend what was going on, Diluc had pressed his hips against mine with a grip on my waist while Kaeya squeezed me harder in our seemingly sweet hug, knocking a bit of wind out of me. Kaeya, despite being unbelievably drunk, still had an inescapable strength as he managed to pull both my arms down while keeping me in his embrace. My panicked eyes looked up at Kaeya’s face, which was focused on my arms now being pinned behind my back. Once I felt rope being looped around my forearms, I knew exactly what was about to happen.

“Be a good girl for Master Diluc, okay sweetheart? I’m going to get another drink,” Kaeya loosened his grip on me and gave me another kiss on the cheek. “You want to do this, right?”

I hated to admit it, but I shyly nodded yes. Kaeya smiled contently. “You can trust him. Everything he’s going to do is part of our plan. We’re going to have fun tonight, okay?”

And with that, Diluc finished tying my folded arms together as Kaeya walked out the door. Before I could form a thought, Diluc held my waist to slowly guide me to sit at the edge of the bed, pressing his bulge against me throughout each step and kissing my bare neck. He then turned me around and planted a knee between my thighs into the mattress, slowly laying me down then beginning to unbutton my blouse as he continued licking and nibbling my skin. I breathily moaned at the excitement and nervousness of a man other than Kaeya touching me so calmly, so naturally. Diluc pulled the tucked in fabric up once it was unbuttoned to reveal my bare torso in its entirety, letting out a low growl at the sight. The excitement burned inside my core and I couldn’t help but gently grind against his clothed knee for some stimulation.

He took notice of this and responded by pressing his knee deeper into my aching core which was so much more forgiving than what Kaeya would have done if I wanted to grind against his leg. Diluc trailed the kisses up towards my jawline, stopping just an inch away from my lips and muttering, “Do you care about this blouse?”

“Rip it off,” I mindlessly whispered, not wanting to go through the trouble of getting untied for my blouse to come off. I craved touch, it could be from anyone at this point, but I needed to feel hands on my skin. Diluc made quick work of the insignificant piece if clothing, ripping it apart as if it were a piece of paper then tossing it onto the floor. He tossed his gloves along with it, my exposed skin suddenly meeting his warm touch as he caressed my sides and continued to kiss my neck, definitely leaving marks at this point. I sighed at his warmth, a stark contrast to Kaeya’s cold touch. Albeit, Kaeya always loved to use his vision to tease me, and maybe Diluc was doing the same thing here.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Kaeya stepped into the room and walked towards us.

“She’s gorgeous, Kaeya. Seriously, you found yourself a keeper,” Diluc paused his kisses to respond, never breaking eye contact with me, “You better treat her well, otherwise I might want to steal her away for myself.”

“Ha! In your dreams. I’ll let you play with her all you want but in the end, she’s mine, dear brother.”

Diluc scoffed lightheartedly and placed his hands on my back to lift me up, fully releasing my neck from his kisses as Kaeya waved a glass in front of me. “Now drink up, sweetheart.”

“What is it?” I looked up at him expectedly.

“It’ll make things easier for you later. Make sure to drink every last drop,” he gave out a short laugh, “That wouldn’t be the first time I’ve told you that in the bedroom, huh?”

I scoffed at the suggestive joke and wrapped my lips around the edge of the glass. It was some kind of concoction that I couldn’t exactly recognize, but there was definitely hard liquor in it. I connected the dots and figured he probably had something planned where he wanted me to drink something strong to chase away whatever pain he was going to inflict on me tonight. My legs trembled with excitement at the thought, wondering what the two had planned for me behind my back.

With each sip, Diluc worked on unbuckling my pants to reveal my half naked body, which was now completely surrendered to the two brothers who were also unbuttoning their own shirts without taking their eyes off of me. Kaeya finished first, having his top already halfway unbuttoned anyway, and reached down to strip me of my underwear. Resuming from where Diluc had left off, he leaned down to leave marks on my neck as well, his kisses being more sloppy and aggressive than sensual like his brother’s. Small pants escaped my mouth as his teeth nibbled down at the spots that were already slightly bruised, but he didn’t seem to care and only bit down harder knowing I was sensitive.

But his passionate kisses on my fragile skin were only fleeting moments, and after one quick peck on the lips and a smirk, he climbed off of me to reveal a half naked Diluc tying his long hair up into a ponytail. Diluc’s messy red locks couldn’t distract me from his hungry stare. He eyed me down with such intensity, never breaking eye contact despite turning his head from side to side to gather all his hair into a bundle. My eyes darted to Kaeya, who had began unbuckling his pants and was also observing my body with pure lust in his eyes. I couldn’t help but trail my gaze down towards their hips, and in the soft moonlight, I could see their bulges creating large tents in their underwear, aching and yearning for me. I could’ve drooled at the sight of their bulky erections if my mouth wasn’t closed shut from nervousness. My core lit up with butterflies, wanting them now more than ever.

My thoughts were interrupted by Diluc climbing onto the mattress next to me then swiftly grabbing me to turn me all the way around so my head conveniently hung off the edge of the bed. I let out a soft giggle at how he manhandled me, how he had lifted me and gently threw me on the mattress like I was dead weight. He must’ve noticed that I liked what he did because as he positioned his head near my throbbing folds and pinned my thighs up with both his hands, he gave a quiet chuckle to himself not long before wrapping his lips around my clit and gently sucking.

I gasped at the sudden warmth but shock quickly turned into pleasure as Diluc’s hot tongue lapped at my wetness, making me flinch and arch my back at the sensation. I instinctively tried to pin my thighs back together in an effort to try and keep the tiny amount of pride I had, but Diluc was quick to shoot a dominant glare at me while he pushed my legs back apart. If anything, the subtle act of defiance only made him hungrier for me, his movements getting a little more aggressive and passionate. My sighs and moans of bliss made the redhead happily groan back in response, the simultaneous buzzing of his lips against my saliva coated cunt causing my brain to malfunction. I couldn’t think anymore and it had only been about a minute or so. I was in heaven.

I looked up to Kaeya for reassurance that I was still in Teyvat as he hovered above me, stroking his cock in front of my face and looking down at me with a devilish smirk. “You should really give me a few pointers, ‘Luc. She’s going crazy over you.”

Diluc kissed my clit before responding. “Have you ever considered learning how to properly please a woman instead of selfishly chasing your own needs?”

“And have you ever considered sleeping with girls other than your maids?”

“Fuck off,” Diluc’s warm breath against my entrance as he sarcastically laughed had me lean into his touch even more. “You know that’s not true.”

His mouth latched onto my clit again, and as if it couldn’t feel any better, he managed to snake two fingers into my entrance while he sucked on my clit, his long digits teasing my walls by slowly scissoring my insides. If Kaeya weren’t a sucker for orgasm denial and hadn’t trained me to hold back my releases for months, I surely would have broken under Diluc’s touch by now.

“Alright, don’t get too excited now, sweetheart,” Kaeya reached out to caress my cheek with his thumb, “Let’s show Diluc how pretty you look with a bulge in your throat.”

“Yes, sir,” I mindlessly muttered and eagerly opened my mouth, earning a grin from Kaeya. He placed his hands on both sides of my jaw, chuckling as he rested the underside of his cock on top of my face, thinking about how it managed to in my throat when it was bigger than my head. My breath stuttered as Diluc’s tongue kept trying to grab my attention but Kaeya’s thickness always seemed to captivate me no matter how many times I saw it.

“Very good girl,” he then guided his tip to meet my tongue and let out a low growl while he slowly pushed his entire length into my throat inch by inch. “My good little girl...”

He wasted no time to fuck my throat as if my head were his toy, his fingers digging into my jaw with each groan that escaped his lips. At times Diluc would suddenly curl his fingers inside me causing me to moan in surprise, which then made Kaeya twitch in ecstacy as the vibrations in my throat clenched tighter around his cock.

The feeling of being touched by two men at once made my insides burn like a wick fighting for its life at the bottom of a candle. My senses were overloaded as I tried to focus on one aspect of what was going on, darting between sensations as if I couldn’t decide what to pay attention to. Maybe Kaeya’s hands gripping my teary eyed face. Diluc’s fingers prodding my walls. Kaeya’s grunts and groans filling up the room. Diluc’s hot breath panting for air against my folds. Everything that led up to this moment was completely blocked out of my mind and I could think about was how restlessly aroused I was. The brothers’ movements became more merciless and the more I tried to hold back my release, the more it fought back. I found my legs gradually tensing up and my moans becoming more and more desperate to the point where I was dangerously on the edge.

“Diluc, stop,” Kaeya quickly pulled himself out of my mouth and despite his initial hesitation, Diluc gave my clit one more kiss and pulled his head away to sit up straight. I was a coughing mess when I finally took a deep breath from suffocating for the past few minutes, and as a sign of mercy, Kaeya gently lifted my head to allow better airflow into my throat.

Despite coughing my organs out, my legs shook violently as I still tried to hold back my release. I whined and wanted to scream in frustration at the denial of my climax, the ropes around my arms and Diluc’s hands pinning me down preventing me from getting up to stimulate myself a little more. Kaeya only laughed sadistically.

“I knew it. You got a little close there, didn’t you, princess?” he teased. I groaned impatiently as my eyes were glued to his cock, which I noticed had strings of saliva still attached to my face. The drool all over his length only made him smirk, and it made Diluc sigh in envy.

“P-Please,” I could barely think of words as my body trembled in pleasure, “M-More...”

Kaeya’s laughter subsided as he caressed my cheek lovingly. “Tell us what you want, baby. Use your words.”

“M-More...” more tears swelled up in my eyes as I struggled to come up with proper words or coherent thoughts, “K-Kaeya...”

“Yes, princess?” Kaeya gently reached under me to lift my torso up and Diluc leaned over to help guide my shaking body until I was sitting up with my back leaning against Kaeya, my thighs still pried apart to prevent me from pleasuring myself. Kaeya climbed into the spot behind me while Diluc comfortably sat in front of me, staring at my body as if he were in a trance.

“I...” the strength in my voice was faltering as I tried to form a sentence, “need you both...”

“Poor thing. The alcohol must be kicking in,” Diluc placed one hand on the side of my thigh, gently massaging the spot and exchanging looks with Kaeya, who hummed in approval behind me. Kaeya’s hands ran up my from my waist to my shoulders where he began massaging my tenseness away.

“Just relax now, princess. We’ll take good care of you, okay?”

“Okay...” I whimpered innocently as I leaned into their massages, taking deep breaths while I bathed in their attention under the moonlight.

Time always seemed to pass differently when I had a drink. In one moment, the brothers were massaging me to calm me down from edging, and in the blink of an eye, Diluc was pulling me down on top of his chest, kissing my neck softly like he did before. In another blink of an eye, my eyes stared into my reflection from the vanity across the bed to see that my thighs were bound together with rope and Kaeya was leaning over my back, whispering into my ear.

“Can you tell us what you want now, princess?” he rubbed his cock to spread my wetness to my butthole and I could feel Diluc’s cock radiating heat as it was pressed against my stomach.

As if the words travelled out on their own, I found my lips muttering, “I want to get stuffed full...”

And as if the brothers were magical beings that could grant wishes on command, they were strategic and patient when they pushed themselves inside me. Diluc’s hands first pushed me down onto his cock. Each thick inch slowly stretched me out and my eyes widened once I felt his tip finally kiss my cervix. With a sigh of relief and a quivering breath, I planted my cheek into his chest at his sheer size alone, and just when I thought I had settled down comfortably, Kaeya had positioned himself behind me and slowly pushed himself into my other hole. Even though I imagined the pain of having two cocks penetrate me at the same time would be excruciating, the feeling was extraordinary, making me pant like a dog in heat. I subconsciously thanked Kaeya for giving me that drink earlier, knowing their large sizes would have painfully split me open otherwise.

“Look at yourself in the mirror,” Kaeya groaned as he buried himself as deep as possible. My reflection was all I could stare at. I could clearly see every detail of the sticky situation I was in and I loved every inch of the sight. My attention darted around once again. Diluc’s hands gripping my ass, his knuckles going white with his strong hold on me. Kaeya’s soft hair draping down on me and Diluc, his muscles illuminated by the moon. Diluc’s eyebrows furrowed with his eyes completely closed, breathing heavily at the tight fit. Kaeya’s sapphire eyes staring right back at me, studying every part of this scene just like I was.

“Don’t hold yourself back this time. Cum all over Master Diluc’s cock for me, okay princess?”

And with that, he leaned back up, stabilized himself by holding my waist, and began fucking me steadily. Diluc followed suit, keeping his grip on me to fuck my soaking cunt as if he were waiting for this moment his entire life.

It took awhile for me to process what I was feeling at first. My brain was fully expecting pain, but once I realized I was going to cum after only a few thrusts in, I completely lost control.

“F-Fuck!” I yelped into Diluc’s chest as I watched the brothers pound into me in the damned mirror, “M-Master!”

“Which one, baby?” Kaeya teased, earning a slight chuckle from Diluc. I moaned uncontrollably in response, my voice shaking with the way my body was being rocked by the two men who started at different rhythms at first but synced up each thrust moments later.

“K-Kaeya! Diluc!” I sighed mindlessly, earning grunts from the two of them. They always seemed to be teasing me with chuckles, acting so nonchalant as if they weren’t fucking my brains out at the same time.

An orgasm immediately hit me like a wave without any warning and I failed to hold back the loud moan that escaped my sore throat. If my legs weren’t tied right now, I would’ve definitely been shaking uncontrollably, but even now my abdomen violently curled up as I rode the waves of my climax. But the two didn’t care. They took my moment of weakness to fuck into me even harder, silently agreeing to pick up the pace and torture me in the best way.

“Good girl,” Diluc whispered into my ear, clearly picking up the pet name from his brother. “Tightening around me like that... you really are such a good girl.”

“I felt it too,” Kaeya groaned out, “Can you cum for us again, princess? You’re being such a good slut for us, you know that?”

“I’m... I’m a good slut...”

“Then cum for us again,” Diluc’s voice was almost demanding, his movements getting more desperate and sloppy as he started to take a little more dominance in speed over Kaeya, craving the sensation that I gave to him once more. “Cum on my cock, [Y/N].”

Kaeya ganged up onto the intensity by leaning his chest over my back again, propping himself up with one hand and grabbing a fistful of my hair with the other, making me choke on my own air. “Don’t make him tell you twice, sweetheart. Be a good girl.”

I had managed to reach my climax again shortly after, panting and trembling as I was cutely sandwiched between the two. As the two groaned at the sensation, they asked for another a few minutes after. And another. Then we collectively switched places so Kaeya could feel me cum around his cock. Kaeya asked for another orgasm. Then one more.

“I c-can’t fucking take it anymore...!” I screamed into his chest, overstimulated and almost writhing in pain. “P-Please s-stop!”

The brothers that I knew were long gone by now. Now they were simply horny messes chasing after their own pleasure, edging themselves and using my body as their toy, teasing that the night would be over soon then immediately asking me to cum more. They endlessly praised me about how my body felt so good, how tight the fit was, and how sweet my moans were. And despite the aching pain in my core, I secretly didn’t want this sensation to end either. But alas, all good things come to an end, and Diluc was the first to break.

“F-Fuck,” he grunted weakly, “I can’t hold it anymore, I’m going to...!”

“Cum in me,” I panted out, “Fill me with cum, please, Master Diluc...!”

With a loud groan and a cry of pleasure, Diluc’s thick load had slowly surged through my insides, his cock throbbing with each pump of cum he dumped into my abused asshole. My tongue fell out of my mouth at the sensation of Kaeya still sloppily pounding my cunt while Diluc’s movements slowed until he finally came to a complete stop, his cock still firmly buried to hold his cum inside. Kaeya took this opportunity of having me all to himself to reach a hand to the back of my neck and pull me down for a kiss before finally releasing his seed in me as well, coating my slick covered walls with his seemingly endless loads of cum. Even when his movements began to slow to a stop as well, he continued to kiss me sweetly, sneaking in small smiles here and there before pulling away to press his sweat covered forehead against mine.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispered proudly, “You’re so perfect, filled with our cum like a good slut.”

I let out a weak laugh, wiggling my hips gently while the two were still stuffed inside of me. “I feel so good... I’m really filled with cum...” I happily grinned, giggling as I softly cuddled against Kaeya’s forehead.

“You sure are, cutie.”

The three of us stayed comfortably in this position for a few moments, taking in the afterglow of such a celestial feeling of finally reaching our climaxes. Our tired pants echoed throughout the room, sweat trickling down our faces and my tears slowly subsiding as Kaeya massaged my scalp and showered my face in more kisses. Diluc let out a deep breath before slowly pulling himself out of me and climbing off of the bed. He started to pick up his clothes from the floor, his eyes glancing at the way his cum slowly trickled down from my hole. Even though I wasn’t facing him, I could practically envision his stupid smug grin forming when he finally decided to say something to us.

“Can I expect you two for ‘dinner’ sometime again soon?”

#kaeya #diluc #kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #mine #bang #kaeya x reader x diluc #requested #genshin impact x reader

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

36 Questions to Fall in Love

Summary: When Derek bets Spencer that he cant make someone fall in love with him in a week, he doesn’t expect Spencer to marry the girl the next day

warnings: strangers to lovers, blind dates, betting, talks of: drug use, drug addiction, abusive marriages, rape, sexual assault, abuse, attempted murder, mass shootings, parental death, love confessions, elopements, opposite of slow burn

word count: 8K

A/N: this is based on a request I received a while back about this article

Derek was a betting man, to say the least. He knew Spencer was from Vegas, he also knew Emily couldn’t say no to a challenge and that Rossi had enough money to burn. Betting at work was the best way to have fun when he worked there, and now he can’t stop.

“I’m not saying con a woman into loving you, I’m saying let us find a girl and let’s see if she can fall in love with you, take a week off from work and just spend time wooing her, and in a week, me or Emily will hit on her, if she turns us down for you, then you’ve won.”

Derek explained it like it was simple, and yet the mere thought of being set up with someone was horrifyingly nerve-wracking. But he got Spencer to agree… unbeknown to him that he had another bet going on the side.

You see earlier that day he was invited to Penelope’s apartment, her younger sister was moving in for a little while and they needed a big strong man to help move the boxes. And like Penelope, Y/N was really chatty and overly friendly really fast. It was like he’s always known Y/N Garcia.

She explained to Derek how hard it was in California to find good men who want someone to love them, she’s tired of guys thinking she comes on too fast, she wants someone who wants to settle and have kids and be a dad. Not a Vain narcissist who only cares about what the city can offer him.

“The last guy I went on a date with literally ran when I mentioned I read a New York Times article about 36 questions to make you fall in love… I just want a person to love? Is that really so hard?”

A lightbulb goes off in Derek’s mind, and Penelope almost reads it.

“Spencer.” They both reply with the same cheeky grin.

“I bet you, you could be as insane as you say you are and he’d still be in love with you by the end of the week.” Derek teases, and the way she smiles shows just how interested she is.

—

Woo her.

The words have rattled around in his brain every second of every moment since Derek said he found a girl for him.

She was free on Saturday, all Spencer had to do was tell Derek where she should meet him and all Penelope had to do was not mention to Spencer that she had a sister, it was up to Y/N when Spencer learned that fact.

She’s already there at the restaurant when he arrives, he’s not sure what he was expecting when Derek said he found the perfect girl but it wasn’t this. He was thinking it was going to be a joke, that either no one would show or Derek was hooking him up with some hot blonde who was way out of his league.

She was beautiful in a nice dress, her makeup was stunning and she looked so content sitting there, waiting for him. Starring her ice water with a straw, she wasn’t paying any attention to the room, she barely knew he was there.

“Hi?” He said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Hi,” she beamed up at him, that same unsure look on her face. Neither of them was expecting anything from the other, but they were pleasantly surprised.

“Spencer Reid,” he says, actually extending a hand to shake her’s because it’s the chivalrous thing to do.

She reaches out her hand, watching him take it and kiss her knuckle softly, she’s so surprised. “Oh, um, Y/N Garcia,” she whispers the name and his eyes go wide.

“Garcia?” He panics a little, sitting down in the booth and facing her as her face drops at his reaction.

“Did he not tell you I’m Penelope’s sister? I knew Derek was up to something,” she looked like it was all too good to be true, upset almost.

“He didn’t, he probably wanted you to tell me, I mean this all so we can get to know each other,” Spencer shrugs it off, interested in seeing why Derek picked her of all people.

“I guess,” she smiled again, “so what do you do?”

“I work with Penelope, I specialize more in psycho-linguistics and geographical profiling.”

She nods in approval, “I’m a high school English teacher.”

Spencer laughs lightly, “what’s that like?”

“Interesting to say the least, especially in California. Every kid there wants to be on TikTok, no one cares about reading any of the books I ask them too,” she just shakes her head. “I’m worried about the next generation.”

“Me too, it’s almost alarming how many kids are unsubs,” he agrees. She’s so easy to talk to, he’s suddenly not nervous anymore and the waiter is coming to take their order.

He never even opened the menu, “what looks good?” He asks Y/N, nervous and she can tell.

“I think I’m going to have the lobster, let’s go all out?” She shrugged again, both of them feeling more adventurous than normal.

“I’ll have that as well,” Spencer smiled, keeping eye contact with only her as she handed the menus back to him.

They ordered sides and appetizers, stuffed mushrooms and fresh bread, it was amazing. They traded small facts about each other, Spencer noticed a lot of Penelope’s quirks in her, she was very friendly and kind and funny. She loved to tease him and make him laugh, his stomach hurt by the time their lobsters came out.

“I’ve never done this before,” she admits, putting on her bib and holding the claw cracker in one hand.

“Neither have I, but I think it’s fairly simple you just need to apply the correct amount of pressure,” he demonstrates by picking up the crustacean and cracking it at its weakest point before twisting it open.

He’s surprised he did it, so is she as she copies is movements and struggles a bit. “You got it, come on,” he encourages her as she squeezed so hard her hands shake but the shell does eventually crack.

She smiles like she just won the science fair, overly proud as they stare at each other. Enamoured already by just how cute the other was.

“So, what do you do for fun outside being a fed?” She teases between bites.

“I like to spend my time finding new things, I tend to go to the same spots often but I’m always looking for new places. I like the theatre, the old cemetery is nice, I’m excited for the new phantasmagoria to open this fall,” he explains all his interests as he cracks away at his dinner. “I just like to try and appreciate what’s out there, after everything I see.”

“That’s really nice, I’ve always wanted to go to a phantasmagoria actually, science magic is the best kind of magic,” she says it like it’s nothing, almost embarrassed by the interest.

“Me too, I love magic,” Spencer lights up, “I can actually do some magic, hold on.”

He digs his NA chip out of his pocket, showing it to her quickly before making it disappear and reappear behind her ear and she was so smitten, “how the heck?” She asked as she reached for her own ear, shocked at the fact he could do it.

“Do you always keep a coin on you for that?”

He thinks about it for a second, not knowing if he should tell her or not. “No, I keep this on me for support.”

He places it on the table, she picks it up instead and inspects it carefully, “2 years is a really long time, I’m really proud of you.”

He feels like he falls in love with her in that moment, she places the chip back in his hand and smiles, “it’s not easy to admit nor recover from, it’s something you should be really proud of Spencer.”

“Thank you,” he blushes, “um, is there anything else you want to know about me?”

She bites the inside of her lip as she thinks, “actually I was reading an article the other day that said there are a list of personal questions you can ask someone and by the end of all of them you should be in love with the person.”

He thought it was a good opportunity to take a sip of water, upon hearing the word love he realizes it was a mistake. He chokes lightly, coughing as he puts the glass back down and apologizes.

“Love?” He repeats the word.

“I’m going to be real honest here Spencer, I don’t date to get my heartbroken, I date to find my life partner so if you’re not interested in marriage or kids one day tell me now,” she’s very stern about it and he can tell she’s gotten her hopes up and heart broken before.

“I want that too, I just didn’t expect you to be so upfront about it,” he’s honest, because clearly that’s what she wants from him. “What was on the question list?”

“Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?” She asks, remembering the questions easily.

“Wow,” he takes a moment to think about it, “alive or dead?”

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs.

“Probably biological Eve,” he comes to the decision rather quickly. “I’ve always been fascinated with the fact all humans can be traced back to one single women. I’m sure she was amazing, it must have been so interesting being the first women on earth.”

“That is the coolest answer anyone has ever given me,” she smiles, “I think I’d be boring and have dinner with Julia Roberts.”

“She’s a very talented actress,” he smiles, recognizing the name from Penelope’s movie nights. “Um, I have an eidetic memory, do you have the list I can just read it once and then we can spit it back and forth easily.”

She looks at him with wide eyes and a growing smile, “yeah hold on.” She takes out her cellphone and pulls up the article before handing it to him.

He reads it quickly and then hands it right back, she was amazed, surely it was a joke? “Would I like to be famous?” He repeats the next question to himself.

“No,” he’s very certain. “I’ve had some encounters with psychopaths who think they are my biggest fans, perfect match or my only rival, and it’s not fun. I’m sure being adored is lovely, but I don’t like the attention if it’s not from a good place.”

“So you want praise but you don’t want a stalker?” She dumbs it down slightly with a smile, “I definitely don’t want to be famous because I don’t like other peoples opinions about me.”

“That’s incredibly fair.”

“Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say?” She asks the next one.

“If it’s for work or my mother, yes,” he answers it completely honestly. “I prefer not to make phone calls, so when I have to make them I typically spend the day before panicking.”

She smiles, “well, if you ever need someone to call tech support and pretend to be you, I am really good on the phone.”

“Like Penelope?”

She nods, “we spent a lot of time talking on the phone when she moved to Virginia for your team.”

“That must have been really hard, I’m surprised she hasn’t mentioned you yet?”

“I’m not really her sister,” she smiles, “I wish I was. I met her during a really abusive relationship and I didn’t feel close to my parents anymore, so my old name didn’t feel right either. Penelope and her brothers were the closest thing I had to family, so I took their name after my divorce.”

“That’s beautiful,” his smile is so soft, she wonders if he feels the same about Penelope.

“What do you consider a perfect day?” She moves on before she can pry into his personal life further, just to pry into his personal life further— in another direction.

“Nobody dies.”

“Even the bad guys?” She squints as she asks it, wondering if that was an appropriate topic for the first date.

“I’m not a fan of the prison system, and I’m really not a very big fan of suicide by cop, let alone lethal injection,” he explained. “Just because you’re a murderer or a psychopath doesn’t mean you have to die too, there is rehabilitation and a way to keep them sane and alive while keeping people safe. I just hate when people die.”

“Me too,” her smile is sad, “my perfect day would be having my parents back, I’d like to show them my degree and go out for ice cream and give them another hug.”

“We should have our perfect days back to back,” his voice is low, he was nervous to say it. “Cause then once you bring them back, I stop people from dying and they can stay forever.”

He sees her heartbreak as the tears well in her eyes, “that would be nice.”

“Um,” he clears his throat and then takes a sip of water. “When was the last time you sang to yourself, or someone else?”

“I was singing in the car on the way here,” she smiles with a sniffle, “I sing a lot actually. I’m always humming or tapping as well, if my mind is wandering then it has to make some kind of noise.”

“What is your favourite thing to hum?” He can’t stop himself from asking it, “I personally do the muppets, duh duh nanana, manamanah.”

She laughs again, and a tear slips out as her eyes close. She hurries to wipe it away, “I often find myself doing the teletubbies song, you know; ‘Tinky-Winky, Dipsy,’” she sings the words before humming the tune to match.

“That’s a good one too,” Spencer is really enthusiastic suddenly, the way he would be with Penelope. He was really comfortable. “If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”

“Mind, because that’s how you keep a good body. If I can keep the strength and willpower to get up in the mornings and go to work and remember why I love being alive, I’ll be young forever,” she answers like it’s rehearsed.

“I was going to say I’d want my mind too, but the way you said it is a lot more elegant,” he teases. “My mom has Alzheimer's, you were honest about wanting kids and you should know that's genetic. I can also pass on schizophrenia and any other mental illness, like depression, bipolar disorder and most definitely anxiety—

“Spencer,” she reaches across the table for his hand, “breathe, that’s not scary to me. My grandma had it too, I’m not optimal gene-wise either.”

He takes a deep breath, “Sorry.”

“It makes you real to react like that, I don’t mind seeing that side of you. Fake strong men and men who compensate are the worst, in my opinion.”

“Mine too,” he agrees. “I am an anxious worrier, I barely sleep, I’m terrified of the dark, I have PTSD nightmares about my short stay in prison, and I cry a lot when I’m alone.”

“It was a mistake clearly? The prison stay, that is.”

“Yeah,” he nods, moving to the next question. “Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”

She laughs through her nose at the switch topic change, “well until I was 19 I thought my husband was going to kill me, then I thought maybe it would be myself, now I’m content dying in my sleep when I'm old.”

“It is ever-changing,” he agrees. “I have died before.”

“What did it feel like?”

She doesn’t ask how, she knows he was sober, she knows he’s been to prison, she knows he’s an agent. It wasn’t a surprise. Penelope even almost died once before, it was an unfortunate part of the job.

“Warm.”

“Like soothing warm, like drinking a hot chocolate, or that uncomfortable warm like being in a hot car?”

“Like a hug.”

Her lips purse, she hums a bit. “Yeah, my answer stays the same.”

“Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.”

“You like to learn,” she smiles again. “You enjoy the mysteries and the horribleness of the world because it keeps you grounded. You love your mom.”

“We love Penelope, our hearts have similar scars, life has been mean to us for no reason,” he adds 3 more for good measure.

“What are you grateful for in life?” She asks the next question.

“I’ve never said this before,” he prefaces, “but found family. If it wasn’t for my team, no matter who was coming and going over the years, anyone who has had my back. Anyone who loves me in any capacity. That’s what I’m grateful for.”

“We’re not even through the first set of questions and I can see why everyone loves you,” she admits. Moving far too fast, doing exactly what Derek wanted from her.

To scare him and see if he still stays.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Spencer stops the questions, “I can’t continue if I can’t tell you this.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Derek and Emily bet me $20 that I couldn’t get someone to fall in love with me, he wanted to set this up and then hit on you in a week and see if you picked me over him, and it feels like a really shitty thing to do to you. It’s making me feel like you’re an object more than a person and I feel really bad about it.”

She just laughs and he has no idea why. “He bet me that I could be as insane as I am with most of my dates and you’d still want to stay with me after a week.”

“You’re not mad?” He worries, by passing her words and the implications of it all.

“No, did you truly mean how you feel?”

“Yes…”

“Then I accept your apology, you’re really kind Spencer. I believe you when you speak, I trust you,” she explains her reasoning and he settles once more. “You’re the most real man I’ve ever met, I think.”

“Thank you,” he smiles again, reaching out for her hand once more, “do you want to finish these questions?”

“Not really,” she smirks, “I think they were wrong about all 35 of them making you fall in love with someone.”

“How so?”

“It only took me 9.”

It’s so absurd they start to laugh, making eye contact, they feel delirious. His hand in hers, she squeezes it lightly and he never wants to let it go.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Sure, did you drive?” She asks.

“No, I walked over.”

She gets up from the table and takes his hand once more, “well, are we going to mine or yours?”

“Are you living with Penelope?”

“Yours it is then,” she teases, bumping his shoulder. This was going to be fun.

Spencer pays for their meal and meets her out front, he gets in her passenger seat and gives her the directions. “Do you want to finish the questions on the drive?” He asks.

“Hmm, well, 11 is a long one, if you want to start telling me your life story in graphic detail? Or we can jump to 12 and you can tell me what super ability you’d like to wake up with?”

“Have you ever watched star trek?”

She’s not expecting that, it makes her take a double-take, she laughs lightly, “Yeah, why?”

“Deanna Troi can sense peoples emotions, I think that would really help with my job,” he explains it easily. “And in times like this.”

“I can just tell you,” she offers, pulling into his apartment complex, she can tell why he walked.

“You don’t have to yet, let it simmer,” he smiles softly, he’s not ready for her to make a decision like loving him when she really doesn’t know everything yet. “Come inside?”

She nods, getting out and taking his hand again for the walk inside. His house is green, and it makes sense. There are door wooden bookshelves and the distant smell of old books and spilled coffee, it’s dusty and old and very Spencer.

“Can I tell you some of my story?” She asks as she kicks her shoes off.

“Absolutely,” he follows her lead, “do you want anything, wine, water?”

“Wine would be nice,” she smiles, following him to the kitchen, “you know my favourite place to talk to someone is in the kitchen.”

“Why?”

“It's the heart of the house,” she smiles slightly, “that's what my mom used to say. This is where all the love happens.”

He loves her and he knows it already, she makes him happy and calm and if she’s in the heart of his house she might as well know all of his own heart.

“I was born in Vegas,” Spencer admits, pushing his life story past his lips before she can stop him or else he wouldn’t.

“My mom was a professor, my dad is an attorney, I have always been really smart and not so athletic, I enjoy chess and reading and I had big thick glasses as a child. My mom participated in a murder and my dad covered it up and that ruined their marriage but they blamed it on her schizophrenia when he left. And then I was left to raise her when she was supposed to be raising me. I cared for her until I turned 13, I left her during the weeks and my aunt would make sure she was okay and I would travel back and forth from CalTech and Vegas on the weekends.”

She can see the exhaustion on his face at just remembering it.

“I got my licence at 16, and then I took her car and it was easier. When I was 18 I put her in a sanatarium and sold her house and took a road trip with my friend to Virginia to go to the academy. He didn’t like it after a week and asked me to go with him to New Orleans and I didn’t— I met my mentor and joined the BAU instead. I was kidnapped and drugged by a man with DID… I died and then his personality switched and Tobias brought me back. I had an addiction to Dilaudid for a few months after, then I got sober after visiting Ethan in New Orleans.”

“Was he good to you?”

“Wonderful,” he smiles, “he was my shoulder to cry on for a long time and I didn’t realize how much I needed him in my recovery until we got a case and I had a reason to see him. I missed a plane and ignored my friends to just be with him. He’s the reason I got clean, not anything else… he told me that I was too special to hate myself, and he was right.”

“He was,” she smiles. “He sounds lovely.”

“And then, the first time I saw my mom after putting her in the sanatarium was because she told parts of our case to a man who lost his daughter, and he did a lot of messed up stuff… like he shot my co-worker. She was another special person to me—“

“I’m so sorry.”

He smiles, “she lived, don’t worry. I loved Elle, she was amazing but the bureau didn’t see that. She was a broken toy to them, we all become one eventually. I miss her a lot.”

She walks into his space and wraps her arms around him, giving him a hug as he rests against the counter, she makes no attempt to move back. Holding him in the heart of the house, close to her own. He holds her back just as tight.

“Maeve, she was another person I loved who got shot, she died. I see her sometimes when I sleep, she visits me when I’m in the most need. I’ll always love her, but she’s gone. The only other woman who claims to have loved me was a psychopath who is dead now too, she framed me for murder, had me drugged, kidnapped my mother and the list goes on and it’s not pretty. In prison she had a lot of bad things happen to me, I have scars that will never heal and a part of me was lost but I’m okay now.”

They have a moment of silence in the middle of their stories, she absorbs it while preparing her own, rubbing his back as her cheek stays pressed to his chest.

“I was born in California, my parents were high school sweethearts, they made me at prom. Learned that from the scrapbooks,” she laughs against his chest, “they were great and then they died when I was 14, it was a mass shooting at a mall, and I went to a foster home. I married the oldest son in the home after he groomed me for a few years… I met Penelope when I was 20 and she helped me get divorced and back on my feet and her brothers protected me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry you relate to loss.”

“It's the one thing that unites us all, really,” Spencer’s voice is barely a whisper. “When you think about it, we’re all born and we all die, the only difference is how we fill the middle.”

They never get to that bottle of wine he mentioned, she pulls back and asks the next question as she drags him to his bedroom. “If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?”

“If I get to have kids.”

She drags him into the room and closes the door, “that was going to be my answer.”

“Is there something that you've dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven't you done it?” He asks as she starts to take her clothes off.

“Sleep beside the love of my life.”

“I’ve never woken up beside the love of my life,” he replies with a soft smile and follows suit, getting undressed down to their underwear before climbing in bed.

“Greatest accomplishment?” She asks as they settle in, laying her cheek on his chest once more.

He takes a moment to think of everything he’s done that has been good, and one really stands out. “there was a case a few years back, we found a bunch of kids who went missing and returned them to their families and gave answers to the families of children who didn’t make it. Days like that feel like a reward.”

“Getting divorced,” she pushes the words out quickly.

“Most valued friendship?” He asks, knowing she doesn’t need to explain herself.

“Penelope.”

“Derek.”

“Most treasured memory?”

“When JJ placed her son in my arms and told me I was his godfather,” his voice is hushed and she knows it’s because he doesn’t want to cry. “It's the closest I’ve gotten to being a father so far.”

“I got an end of the year present when I was first starting out, this girl told me that I was the reason she enjoyed reading again and it was the reason I started teaching, I’ll never forget her. Tammy Brownlee, she graduated in 2009 and we’ve been Facebook friends ever since.”

“Most terrible memory?”

“My parents dying.”

“You’d think mine would be dying right?” He asked, she nodded against his chest, “it was actually being held down by 3 men, getting a sock shoved in my mouth while they beat me.”

She kissed his chest softly, “I’m sorry, I know that feeling. Mind you, he was only 1 man, it’s not a good feeling.”

“If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?”

“If it’s definite; not like a chance or a cancer statistic, if it’s like this is the day you die no ifs and's or butts, then I’d just continue as normal and have 1 really awesome day right before,” she smiles against him. “Make the most of it all.”

“If I was dying a year today, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Already?” She laughs, thinking he’s kidding.

“You want a nice husband and a kid? I will be good for you as long as I know you, and I’ll have as many kids as you want me to help you make.”

She’s silent as she thinks about it. “What does friendship mean to you?”

“Someone who is there for you even when they don’t want to be, even when it’s hard,” Spencer whispers, thinking about his friends.

“It means hacking the government and voiding a marriage and changing someone's name so they can escape,” Y/N whispers. “don’t tell the feds she did that too.”

“What roles do love and affection play in your life?”

“I crave it and hardly receive it, but I give it out like it’s a sample at costco,” she snickers at the example she gave. “It’s something that people have always admired about me and yet it’s also the thing that scares people away. When I love, I love hard and it’s full and annoying and you will feel suffocated sometimes, but just tell me when and I’ll back off.”

“I don’t know how to ask for what I need,” Spencer whispers. “But I need someone to love me like that.”

“The next one is to alternate 5 good things about each other,” she rests her chin on her hand as she looks up at his face in the darkness, “soft.”

He pauses for a moment, bypassing the easiest one and saying pretty, instead, he says; “you’re honest.”

“You’re very caring,” she replies.

“You see beauty in the world still.”

She smiles at that one, “you make the world beautiful.”

“You are beautiful.”

“And you’re handsome, that’s my 4th,” she keeps track in her head.

“You’re true, to your heart, your promises, everything.”

“And you’re real, you see the world for what it is and you don’t try to change it for the better. You want to make it manageable,” her explanation is the longest one yet. “Was your childhood happy, and do you feel close with your family still?”

“I write to my mom every single day and I drop the notes off weekly, and no,” he doesn’t want to cry, but he feels like he might again. “It was liveable, I made it.”

“Mine was happy until I was 14, then I was alone, I have 1 living aunt and she is strange but I get a card from her every Christmas,” Y/N adds. “I’d like to think your lack of love and my need to fill the world with what I miss from my parents will make a really good family dynamic.”

“Me too.”

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?” She asks, “I think I know already, but it’s the next one.”

“She hit me a few years ago because I made her take some medicine, she hit me once when I was a kid too…” he whispers them so that they stay a secret, if they can’t be heard else where then they don’t exist in his mind. “She was a wonderful mother but the worst memories stick out the most now. She’s forgetting everything and all I can remember is how hard it’s been on me, like a bad son.”

“My mom was my best friend, and I still talk to her every day, I bring her and my dad around with me in my necklace,” she pulls the chain on her neck and shows him the little jar. “Mom, Dad, this is Spencer. Spencer, this is my mom and dad.”

He holds it in his hand and tips it gently, “nice to meet you.”

“The next one is weird,” she changed the topic again.

“Make three true "we" statements each. For instance, "We are both in this room feeling…" Spencer says it verbatim. “We are both feeling understood.”

“We are both hopeful.”

“We are both falling in love,” Spencer ends the feelings with the most prominent one.

“We are,” she agrees with another smile.

“Finish this,” he insists on moving forward, “I wish I had someone I could share…”

“The rest of my life with,” she whispers this time. “If we become besties, what’s something I should know?”

“I think I’ve told you all the important stuff so far,” Spencer thinks hard, pausing for a moment. “My butt is ticklish?”

It makes her giggle, “that is a good one. My sides and the bottom of my feet are ticklish too.”

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you've just met,” Spencer reads the question back from memory, “don’t be afraid to be too honest.”

“I like that you know how I feel but I hate that you’ve been hurt. I like how you listen to me, and I really like how comfortable you make me feel. I’m almost naked in your bed right now and I know you’d never, ever hurt me, and I haven’t felt that in a really long time.”

“I like that you are indulging me in the dream of becoming a husband and a dad one day… most people say it’ll happen but they never picture it. No one has ever said yeah id have your kids. I like that you know what you want and you’re actively looking for it.”

She moves up so she can hold his face in her hands, “only 7 more. Is it working?”

He nods, “my most embarrassing moment is the time I had a wet dream on the work jet.”

She laughs and then covers her mouth in panic, “I’m sorry that’s not funny.”

“It is, it’s fine,” he smiles. “I was dreaming about kissing this actress we helped, she actually did kiss me in the pool, so I guess it was bound to happen.”

She leans in and presses her lips against his, holding his cheeks in her hands his wrap around her waist as he holds her there. She peppers smaller kisses to his lips before pulling back, “we both cried in front of each other already today, so next question.”

“Tell me what you like about me already?”

Her hands trail his chest and down towards his boxers, he’s hard again from just kissing and she smirks, “this is promising.”

His hand on her back unclips her bra, “I love boobs, not even going to lie. They are my weakness.”

She pushes the straps down and tosses her bra aside, pressing her naked chest against his, she moves on. “What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

“Being called insane, saying I'm seeing things, or acting crazy, those are things I don’t like to be told because they make my anxiety worse.”

“Noted,” she smiles. “I talk to myself a lot so get ready for that.”

“Okay,” he smiles, she’s way too easy to be real.

“I don’t want to mention my last husband from here on out, I think if I get married again I will never tell anyone I have a first husband,” she’s firm in her words.

“Technically, Y/N Garcia has never had a husband,” he reminds her.

Her face lights up at the realization, “you’re right.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven't you told them yet?” Spencer asks.

“I regret not screaming at my ex before I disappeared but I wanted to live.”

He hums, understanding how it feels. “There isn’t anyone in specific I’ve wanted to tell this to, but I wanted to kill people when I was in prison. It made me really angry being in there and I let myself dream about killing people who hurt me and then I almost did kill someone.”

“Remember what you said about bad guys?” She whispers a helpful tip, “even the worst people deserve to have a chance at life. And you’re not hardly as bad as the worst people you’ve met.”

“You’re right,” he agrees. “Thank you.”

“This place burns down, what’s one thing you’d run back inside for? Outside of people and animals…” she asks the 3rd last question.

“The book Maeve gave me.”

“The girlfriend who died?” She confirms, and he nods. “If my place with Penelope burned down, I just want my necklace and I don’t take it off that often.”

“The next question is interesting,” Spencer thinks about it, “Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing, and why?”

“I’m glad I wasn’t at the mall with my parents, if I saw them get shot it would hurt more,” she whispers. “I’m sorry you had to see Maeve die like that.”

“In a way, I’m glad I saw Maeve get shot, otherwise I wouldn’t have believed it. She never felt real to me and then she was dead…”

She just hums, “Share a personal problem and ask your partner's advice on how he or she might handle it,” she whispers the last question.

“Also, ask your partner to reflect to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen,” Spencer adds in the second half.

“I need to find a place to stay now that I’m here, I don’t want to keep living with Penelope. As much as I love her, I want my own place,” Y/N admits.

“I think I’m in love with this girl that I just met and I don’t know if it’s too soon to ask her to look for a house with me?” Spencer pretends to sigh, “she’s super cool and I think we’d make some nice kids. I would love some advice.”

“Has she told you she loves you yet?” She teases.

Spencer shakes his head. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Spencer,” she replies, leaning in one more time to kiss him.

It’s deeper this time, she breathes him in and rests her forehead against his as she breathes between them.

“How did that work?” She whispers, truly amazed at how easy it was.

He shrugs, “it’s a good questionnaire.”

“You were really honest, your heart is really pure and I would like to get to know you more, but I feel like I know everything?” She shakes her head while she talks, overthinking all the things she has learned, “I don’t even know what could be left?”

“My birthday is October 28th?” He whispers, “we have a lot to discover yet.”

—

When she doesn’t come home in the morning, Penelope knows she’s at Reid’s house. She just doesn’t expect to walk in and find them naked in Reid’s bed, out cold and cuddled together with their clothes all over the room.

It looks like something happened. If only she knew the truth.

“Oh my god?” Penelope’s voice wakes them up and Spencer scrambles to make sure they are covered by his blankets.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N shouts as she wakes up.

“I came to see if you were okay. I expected one of you to be on the couch, I didn’t think it went this good?”

“We just slept in the same bed, I promise,” Spencer turned bright red as he panicked, “we just got to know each other and talked all night, in what we normally sleep in.”

“Uh-huh,” Penelope smirks, “so I take it the 36 questions worked?”

“Perhaps,” Y/N smirks back at her sister.

“Do you use it on many people?”

“No one has made it past the first question,” she smiles at him instead, kissing his cheek as Penelope watches.

“That’s my queue to go, um… yeah, wow, I didn’t see this happening so fast,” Penelope is shocked but in the best way.

She leaves just as fast as she arrived and Y/N settles back into Spencer the second she closes the bedroom door. “You know, if she’s not going to believe us we might as well do it? If you accidentally get me pregnant then we can move fast and no one will question it.”

He laughs, “accidentally, is the key word there.”

“My parents made me at prom after crushing on each other for 2 years… I think knowing each other for 2 days isn’t the weirdest way to start a family?”

“Honestly,” Spencer lets out a sigh and her happy mood drops to a more serious one. “I was a little worried that we’d wake up this morning and you’d change your mind.”

“Why?”

“In the heat of the moment, learning everything about each other and saying I love you was really exhilarating, but I have a hard time believing it,” he admits, “not many people mean it, or stay around after they tell me they love me.”

She cuddles back into the crook of his neck and holds him as tightly as possible, wrapping a leg around him for optimal coverage, “I am staying right here, because I love you, Spencer.”

“Okay,” he whispers. Sounding like he still doesn’t believe it.

“I love you because you’re honest, you want what I want and you’re truly kind. You’re friends with my sister, you’re smart, you would make a great dad, you won't hurt me, you are really nice to cuddle with, and I know you mean it when you say you love me because it’s not a word you use lightly.”

“Are you my girlfriend now?” He wonders aloud, “cause if you really want to have a kid, I have my mom's old wedding ring in my closet, and I would rather be married to you before we do that?”

“Okay,” she whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she hides her face in his neck, “the courthouse is literally just down the road?”

“We can get breakfast together after?” Spencer adds, rubbing her back as they plan, he wasn’t scared anymore.

“Penelope will kill me if she’s not there, can we have her as our witness?” Y/N finally sits up to look at him, pulling away to sit on the bed, still shirtless.

His smile while he tries to keep eye contact with her is so funny, she giggles a little as she hides her nipples behind her palms and cups her boobs.

“I’m pretty sure she’s still in my living room,” Spencer giggles, “Penelope!?”

She comes back in then, “yes?”

“We’re going to the courthouse to get married, wanna come?” Y/N asks with an embarrassed smile.

“Yes!” She cheers, “I’ll go get you a dress!”

And then she’s off again, this time actually leaving Spencer’s apartment. “What if we don’t tell Derek, and let him hit on me next week anyway?

“Then you can say ‘sorry I have a husband,’ and he’ll body slam me to the floor,” Spencer laughs nervously, “the whole team is going to be so pissed they missed my wedding…”

She frowns, “send out a mass text, tell them to meet us at the court house, it’s their day off right?”

“You’re right,” he smiles.

This was going to be interesting.

—

Walking out of the courthouse, hand in hand, she’s in a white dress, he’s in a suit he’d probably wear to work, Penelope is crying and the whole team is waiting outside for them.

At the bottom of the courthouse steps, they all clap and cheer, throwing rice at them like an old movie, Spencer’s smiling so hard his cheeks are burning. Y/N introduces herself to everyone, hugged over and over by everyone she should have met 15 years ago.

Derek is tapping his foot, waiting for Spencer to come and hug him, “what the fuck?” He asks as Spencer steps into his space, wrapping his arms around him and shaking his back and forth.

“Nice try, I’ll give you $20 as a thank you,” Spencer teases as he pulls away. “She is perfect.”

JJ and Will are busy talking to Y/N when he turns around, Mike and Henry not far behind them. Spencer walks over and wraps Henry up in his arms, the kid was growing way too fast, Spencer loved him so much it hurt sometimes.

“Y/N, this is my godson,” Spencer introduces them, “Henry, this is Y/N.”

She gives him a big hug too, “do you have any cousins, Henry?”

“No, but I was 8 when Michael was born,” he smiles, “and I’m getting old enough to be a good babysitter?”

Spencer laughed, messing up Henry’s hair quickly with a smile, “I’m sure by the time you’re a cousin you’ll be great.”

They take a group photo outside, Spencer and Y/N in the middle, everyone was smiling. It was the first time all of them had been in a photo together, the entirety of Spencer’s found family. Now they were Y/N’s too.

She hyphenated her last name, Y/N Garcia-Reid, and their kids would share the same one. He was not only about became a father thanks to Y/N, but Penelope would also become an Aunt once more. It was like a gift that kept on giving, seeing Spencer and Y/N create a little family of their own.

—

She cried her eyes out when she met Diana. She wasn’t expecting to be so emotional, but then Diana was lucid and very welcoming and sweet.

“It’s going to be a pleasure having you as my daughter,” Diana smiles, thinking it was just a nice thing to say.

Y/N cries and holds her so tight Diana almost can’t breathe but she lets her hold her as long as she needs to, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I haven’t had someone to call mom since I was 14,” Y/N whispers, “if that’s okay?”

Diana hugs her just a little too tight in response, “you can call me mom whenever you want.”

“Just until you become a grandma,” she whispers again as she pulls back and Diana’s attention snaps to Spencer.

“Are you trying?”

He nods, “we want kids, we’re not getting any younger.”

Diana wraps him up in a hug and he almost falls off his chair at the sheer force of it, she was so happy for him. She knew this was all he’s ever wanted; because he would be good at it, he had all this love in his heart, and he wanted to show his father how easy it is to stay.

“You’re going to be a great dad, Spencer,” she holds his cheeks as she pulls away, “I’m proud of you.”

He cried. It’s all he’s wanted from her, and now he has everything right here in this room.

—

When they find out they’re pregnant after the first try, it’s really funny to them. It was all working so well, it was a little too much for them at first. They were looking for a house, she was looking for a permanent teaching job but Spencer convinced her to wait until after the baby is born to go back.

They name her Morgan Garcia-Reid as a thank you for Derek’s little bet, and before she’s even 6 months old they’re pregnant again. By the time they have 4 kids under 5 they take a break and just enjoy their little family.

To think Derek gave them 7 days to fall in love… and then they lived happily ever after.

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