#anyways I can’t believe he’s lasted so long and so consistently

[chippendyke]

It’s Chairface and I’s one year anniversary soonnnnnn :3

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Hypersexual

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reference to SA if you squint?, Astarion being soft, reader being defensive af, persistent Astarion, happy ending because I'm weak

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It was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you. Your bed was rarely empty. The Grove, the Goblin Camp, the Underdark, Moonrise Towers, etc. Everywhere you went you seemed to have a warm body beside you by the end of the night. Himself included. He pined for your attention. Feeding from you daily brought you close, sleeping with you brought you closer, opening up bit by bit brought you even closer. And yet, he could still find the occasional rando leaving your tent at first light. If he listened closely enough, he could almost always hear sniffles coming from your tent every time someone left. He typically ignored it, opting to not care so he didn’t get attached. Unfortunately for him, he was attached. He had been for a while and seeing people leave your tent was like a knife to the chest every time. He wanted to confront you eventually, so that's what he did. 

He walked over to your tent, hearing the sniffles intensify the closer he got. When he peered inside he saw your naked form, balled up tight, sobbing quietly. He saw the hickies and claw marks the tiefling from last night had left on you. “Y/N?” he whispered.

You swiftly wiped your tears away as you moved to cover yourself up. “Astarion, darling. It’s so early, is everything alright?” You threw on the best smile you could manage while willing yourself to shed no more tears. 

“Why are you crying?” he asked as he moved into your tent fully.

“Tears of pleasure.” you waved him off, doing your best to sound lustful.

“You’re a terrible liar, my sweet.” he said as he sat opposite from you but still giving you space. 

You sighed, rolling your eyes, “Why do you care anyways?” you cringed internally, that sounded harsher than you intended. 

Astarion’s eyes softened a bit, “Because I care for you.” he said honestly. 

“Because I’m your blood bag,” you scoffed. “Worry not, I’m well enough for you to feed so… get on with it I guess.” you said as you tucked your hair behind your ear, leaning in for him to chomp down on your pulse point. 

Yet you felt nothing but the cold night air. Your eyes found his after a moment of hesitation. “What?” you said.

“You are so much more than food.” he said, a guilty look on his face. Is that all you thought of him? Somebody using you? “Why do you sleep with them?” he asked suddenly, trying to connect the dots in his head.

Your eyes widened, “It’s none of your business.” you said, your voice wavering. “I like sex, so why not?” your eyes avoided his, afraid he would see the truth in them. 

“Terrible liar.” he whispered, his foot tapping against your knee trying to get your attention. 

“Because it makes it all hurt a little less!” you yelled, his consistent questioning pushing you over the edge. “Because it fills the fucking void somebody put inside me. They used me, they hurt me. So if I can be desired, even for a moment, I will.” you felt tears stream down your cheeks as Astarion watched you, his mouth slightly agape. “This horrible feeling sits inside me like tar. Black and oozing and there is nothing I can do to fix it. I sleep with them because I want to know I can still be desired if I cannot be loved.”

“Who said you cannot be loved?” he said, leaning forward to wipe a tear from your face with his thumb.

“I… I just can’t… nobody can love me after what they did to me. Taking my body, playing with it while I just laid there… frozen. I thought they loved me…” you mumbled, memories from your past flooding you. 

“I love you.” he said simply.

Your head whipped up to gaze at him, “You don’t even know what love is Astarion.” you turned away from him so he couldn’t see you cry. 

“On the contrary… I have seen lust. I did it for 200 years. But this ache I have inside me, the longing I have for you and only you. That, I believe, is love. And… I like to imagine you feel the same way.” Astarion put a hand on your shoulder, moving slowly when you initially flinched away. 

“How can you love me? Aren’t you disgusted?” you whimpered. You wanted to believe him so badly, but how could you? You were made to be used. 

Astarion shifted so he could see you as he tilted your quivering chin upwards. “For sleeping with others? Darling I have bedded thousands.” he rubbed your cheek reassuringly. 

“That’s different. You didn’t have a choice.” you said, your voice coming out strained.

“I would argue that you didn’t either. When someone violates you like that… I’ve seen it go two ways. You overindulge, or you isolate. Both are natural reactions. Yours was to try and find solace, penance in others. None of it is shameful… it’s just… how things are I suppose.” he said, struggling a bit to find the right words but you felt the connection he was trying to make. 

“Each of them took a little piece of my soul… I’m not sure how much is left of me to give.” you shuddered in a breath, trying to calm yourself. 

“I don’t want your soul… All I ask is your heart, in exchange for mine.” he smiled at you, moving to hold your hand while he cupped your cheek. You had never seen eyes with so much sincerity and kindness. 

“I… I’d like that.” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his for a moment before your eyes opened once again with worry. “Do we have to…” you motioned between the two of you and the bedroll.

“Not until you want to. Completely, freely.” he nodded at you.

“And if I never want to?” you asked cautiously.

“Then I will love you all the same.” he leaned in slightly. He could feel your breath on his lips but waited for you to close the gap. 

You kissed him softly. He could feel the fear and apprehension in your kiss. While you felt the patience and adoration in his.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello lovelies! Hope ya'll like this one as well. Two in one night? What a deal lol I really like this one. Is it a bit of a trauma dump? Yes but writing is how I get it out and Astarion would 10000% comfort me through any of it. We love a supportive king. What a guy. Anyways! - be safe everyone, see ya'll soon!

[bcyhoods]

LOVEFOOL 💌 — “you feel like home to me” with tasm!peter PUH-LEASE I ALREADY KNOW IM GONNA GET EMOTIONAL

muah ha ha. angsty spidey is my favorite spidey, how did you know | 0.9k

warnings: injuries, brief mention of reader being used as leverage but no explicit/graphic detail

“I don’t know if I can do this, Peter.”

Your hand hovers over the scrape on his cheek when your gaze drops to the mask that’s clenched in his hand. He sits on the edge of your bed, looking up at you as you stand in between his legs.

He’s bathed in the dull, orange glow of your lamp. It highlights every welt, every cut, every matted strand of hair that sticks to the damp skin of his forehead. It makes your eyes sting.

“What do you mean? You’re a natural,” he says. His hand settles on your hip to give it a gentle squeeze. The gesture makes you believe for a second that he’s genuinely clueless.

But his eyes refuse to meet yours. The smile that he wears is uneasy as he wrings his mask.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

He hangs his head low. Guilt tightens its grip on his throat making it hard to breathe.

You were already well aware of his secret identity before you’d started dating. He warned you of the risks and used them to try scaring you away before you could break his heart. But you stayed. You stayed and, god, he was so glad you did.

Though, he blames his adoration for what happened to you.

He would keep a close eye on you to make sure you were safe. His routine neighborhood watch would consist of making sure you got to and from work safely, occasionally dropping by on your lunch breaks to check on you. He was careless, but he didn’t anticipate things would go south so quickly.

The guy wasn’t a super villain, nor was he anything special by any means, but he was observant. And why would Spiderman be visiting some random bodega cashier so often unless you meant something to him?

It was practically over as quick as it started. The guy couldn’t even finish demanding his ransom before Peter had arrived to web him to the ceiling. You escaped with a few injuries, the worst being a palm-shaped bruise on your wrist. But Peter was fuming.

You were used as bait. You were leverage against Spiderman because he’d been so reckless. You got hurt because of him. You were lucky this time, but there was no telling if that luck would run out and the thought terrified him. Despite your gentle words of reassurance, he had made up his mind.

He would never forgive himself if he lost you. So he broke it off.

“I know.”

It would’ve been easier if you didn’t see each other after that. You think you’d feel differently if you weren’t frequently in his presence, nursing him back to health. Maybe if you didn’t exchange longing gazes and soft touches that were reserved for people that are more than friends. If he didn’t look at you like you held his heart in your hands, maybe you’d be stronger.

“Why do you keep coming back here?” He feels his chest tighten at the crack in your voice, even more so when you push his hand away.

“You leave your window open,” he whispers.

A scoff falls from your lips and you turn your back to him to wipe away the rogue tears that run down your face. He stares at your figure with a frown and hands that ache to reach out for you.

Peter Parker then decides he doesn’t want to be a hero. Heroes can’t afford to be selfish and put their own happiness above the wellbeing of others. Being with you would jeopardize your safety. It’d be selfish of him. He could never be with you like he wanted, craved, so long as he wore that suit. Can’t he have both?

He’s exhibited enough altruism to last him a lifetime, anyway. Certainly it was enough to hold you just for one night.

“I just needed to see you,” he sighs, voice meek.

“Peter, I think you should—”

“There’s never a day that I don’t think about you,” he interjects. He doesn’t exactly know when he started to cry. Suddenly his eyesight was blurry and he couldn’t breathe through his nose.

“Please.” The word pushes out like a sob. Your hand shoots to clamp over your mouth to hush the whimpers, but he can hear them.

“I’m serious, I…” He stands and moves to put his hands on your shoulders. His mask is forgotten on the floor. “Being away from you, it makes me feel crazy. Like I can’t breathe.”

“Don’t say that.” You turn in his hold to shrug his hands off, but you don’t try too hard. A sob racks through your chest once more when you see his pained expression. His nose is red and his cheeks are wet and his brows are sewed together. “Don’t tell me that, just go home,” you plead.

“You feel like home to me!” There’s a humorless laugh that accompanies the confession, it’s one of frustration. But the softness in his glassy eyes is unmistakable and it makes you melt under his stare.

“Please don’t cry,” he begs with a deep frown. He reaches to hold your face in his hands as he wipes the tears from under your eyes. The material of his gloves is rough and pulls at your skin uncomfortably, but you can’t help leaning into his touch.

He crowds your being. He towers over you so closely that you can feel his bated breath fanning your skin. You reach to hold onto his forearms, letting your eyes close to revel in the closeness. Peter presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, then to each of your cheeks, then your nose. He stops short of your lips.

“Say the word and I’ll leave. You know I will.”

“Don’t go,” you concede.

You’re not really sure what repercussions this will have tomorrow morning. You can’t really bring yourself to care when he kisses you.

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Shapeshifting Detective - Part 8

cw: parental death, grief, referenced murder, police brutality, slow burn, more tags will be added as the story continues

male shapeshifter x fem character

word count: 3k

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Kate had no idea how long she’d been in here or if the others had been taken into custody. She’d been waiting for hours, locked away in a room with no windows, no clock, no way of telling the time at all. 

Her wrists were sore. Her brain kept circling back to it over and over again. They were unbearably sore, both of them shackled to the table to prevent her from running off. They were irritating at first but after a while, she came to appreciate them, their unyielding weight helping to keep her present. 

She didn’t know what was happening or how long it had been or what would come of her but she knew her wrists were sore. 

Eventually, even they were not enough. She’d been able to stomach a lot in the last days, but sitting still and alone was not one of them. 

She had nothing to throw herself at, no justice to find. She was just here. Alone, in a room, waiting for the dust to settle. Waiting to see how she would come out of this. If she would come out of this. 

The creak of the door pulled her back to herself and her head jerked up to find whoever had come to break the infernal silence. 

When he entered the room she felt like she could breathe again. Her detective walked up to the table she was chained to and suddenly everything was going to be alright. 

“Harvey,” she said, a swell of relief filling her chest. 

When their eyes met she realized her mistake. “A bit familiar, don’t you think miss? Wonder where you picked up that habit?”

It wasn’t her detective at all. 

His dishevelment told a different story than the one she was used to. Gone was the man who just didn’t quite fit his clothes despite having shaped himself to belong in them, always sitting slightly askew with his wild hair and off-center tie. 

No, this man looked like he’d walked through hell, eyes bloodshot and his stubble growing unruly. 

She had no idea how much he knew about the situation, how much he’d been told about his mysterious doppelganger. The vitriol present on his face said he probably knew more than was good for her. 

He leaned over the table, looming over her, and Kate did her best to pull away with her hands chained, tethering her down. 

“I don’t know you,” she spat out, incapable of feigning demure answers despite knowing it was undeniably in her best interest. 

“Really? That’s odd, some people at the station say we’ve gotten quite close. Congratulated me on latching onto the killer so fast. Wasn’t that clever of me? How did I find you out so quickly, I wonder?”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Then why did you confess to it.”

Of course he believed her mother. She certainly hadn’t done much to earn any trust with him. It stung anyway. “I didn’t. She’s lying.”

“Now now. Your mother is an upstanding woman, I don’t think she would lie to me. And you…” He grabbed her chin and tilted her head to the side, as if to inspect her. She reeled back, pulling herself from his grip, a movement he seemed to find amusing. “Well, I suppose what I think about you depends on how well we know each other. What do you say, Katherine, do we know each other or not?”

He spat her name at her like it was poison. It might as well have been. 

“You’ve questioned me a few times, that’s all.”

“Oh, just a few. I only remember us speaking once but perhaps I’m misremembering. Maybe I wrote it down somewhere. I did find some very interesting notes about you in my office. They were very complimentary, seemed like we’d spoken quite a lot. Can you remind me if that’s true?”

“It was a couple times. That’s all.”

“Consistent. Smart, you shouldn’t be changing your story.”

“You can’t do this,” she insisted. She knew he could, though. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He could do whatever he liked. Who would stop him?

“I promise you I can. You know what I find odd? The way you looked at me when I walked in here. You didn’t look at me like the prime suspect in a murder case who’d only spoken to me a few times. Who were those big, hopeful eyes for? Because I know one thing for damn sure, they weren’t meant for me.”

“You’re insane,” she hissed at him.

His hand snapped up faster than she could track and then her head was being slammed forward into the table in front of her, the world spinning as she pulled back. 

“I’m going to get the truth out of you one way or another,” he snarled. 

“I didn’t do anything,” she sobbed out.

“Maybe you didn’t. At this point, I don’t really give a shit. What was that thing? Are you one of them?”

“I don’t know anything,” she said through gritted teeth. There was no getting out of this, she could see that now. 

“Yes, you do. You’re on its side, the only thing I don’t know is if you’re a piece of shit turncoat human or one of those monsters.”

The door opened and a man you didn’t recognize walked in. Harvey snapped to look at him, snarling out an impatient, “What do you want?”

The newcomer was some other police officer, his hat not quite facing forwards properly and his jacket buttoned up just one button off. 

“Someone wants to see you,” the newcomer said.

“I’m a little fucking busy, actually.”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, and faster than either of them could react, he slammed Harvey forward, throwing everything he had into banging his head into the table. 

It knocked him out cold, his body sliding unceremoniously to the floor as Vincent rushed over to her side, a frantic look in his eyes. 

“Evelyn is in the other room,” he said, speaking as fast as he could get the words out. “They started poking around and we couldn’t make them leave. They were gonna find them either way.” He gestured down at the unconscious man below him. “I just untied them and told them no one would believe them, seemed like the best option at the time.”

She tried to move forward, into his space, the shackles stopping her unbecoming display of desperate affection before it could even really begin. 

He seemed unaffected by Kate coming to her senses about the action, wrapping an arm around her and holding her tight to his side. “Let’s get you out of here,” he muttered, and she could feel his chest moving as he spoke. “I don’t want to- Oh my god, are you bleeding?”

He reached for her instantly, his hand cradling her cheek as the other rose to wipe at a drop of blood she hadn’t even noticed, the viscous liquid spreading across her skin. 

He immediately reached for his pockets, muttering angrily under his breath. 

Upon finding nothing he began rooting around in Harvey’s pockets, pulling out both a handkerchief and a key ring victoriously. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he promised, pressing the handkerchief gently to her wound, cleaning it as best he could before beginning to try the first of many keys. “Just hold on a minute.”

“What are we going to tell them?” she asked as he tried key after key, looking warily out towards the rest of the station. 

“You’ll see. I just have to wait for…”

Before he could finish his sentence, all hell broke loose, the sounds of yelling and rushing about filtering through the door. 

“What is that?”

“Our cue.” He said, trying keys as quickly as he could, a slight shake to his hands as he did. Finally, one clicked into place and the cuffs snapped open. 

Kate stood, rubbing her wrists and Vincent gave her a nervous look. “You may want to turn around.”

The words echoed in her ears and before she could really register them, he was changing. The horrible snapping of his bones accompanied itself with the creation of new angles where they shouldn’t be. 

The cracking and shifting noises were drowned out by the noises of chaos that were slowly filling the building, but it did nothing to stop them from reaching her ears. 

She wondered why he had to shift like this. Surely there were more efficient ways to travel from one body to another. Human bodies weren’t that different, seemingly creating a new set of bones and tissues for every one seemed horribly inefficient. 

She thought, perhaps belatedly, that she should be scared. Or at the very least, horrified. And yet she couldn’t quite bring herself to be. 

It hadn’t even really occurred to her, to be honest. Perhaps some of it was due to her current, exhausted, sluggish state. She just hadn’t thought of it, hadn’t considered being afraid. 

Why would she be, asked a little voice in the back of her head. It was just Vincent. 

Instead, bubbling up, slower than they should have, were other feelings. Relief, gratitude, but nothing resembling the revulsion she was sure should be present. 

As he transformed, she was lost in thought completely, busier mulling over the situation than actually watching the seemingly possible transformation. 

He winced at her as soon as he had enough of a face to wince with. “Sorry, you shouldn’t have had to see that.”

Vincent looked more scared than she did, staring at her as if at any moment she might scream and run, never to be seen again. 

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. It didn’t feel like one, like anything close to being either reassuring or a smile, but he seemed to understand the meaning, giving her a quiet, sweet smile back. 

And then he held out his hand, as if to escort her out of the room. She took it and he led her into the chaos. 

Evelyn seemed to be at the epicenter of it all, shouting and throwing things around the station. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, trying to calm her while simultaneously acting like if they got too close they might spontaneously combust. 

As she watched the chaos unfold, the comfortable weight at her side disappeared and suddenly she felt very exposed. 

She glanced around nervously and saw Daniel sitting in the corner, a distant look in his eyes. He seemed like he’d be less of a problem than Harvey had been. 

Evelyn drifted over to her and pulled Kate towards her. She went with little protest, leaning into the woman as she was guided to her side. She was the only other person left who didn’t want her locked up, now that Vincent had made himself scarce. There were worse people’s arms to be clinging to. 

As Evelyn argued and Kate stood, unlistening, at her side, she saw Vincent dart back into the interrogation room and she did her best to avoid looking at the door again, keeping as much attention away from there as much as possible. 

She heard the door creak once more but kept her eyes adamantly forward, tensing up even more at the noise. She imagined no one could tell, it was hard to look more tense than she’d already been. 

She heard Evelyn slam her hand down on the table beside her, hard, and guessed someone’s attention had drifted a little too far. 

Kate should be paying more attention, should be helping more with this plan she wasn’t privy to. She just couldn’t draw herself back into the present. It had been too much, she was too tired. 

And then, storming through the doors of the police station with a bang, was her mother. 

Now she was aware of everything, pulling away from her and further back toward Evelyn. 

An arm snaked around her waist and she was grateful for it, grateful for the reminder that at least someone here was on her side, even if it was more for Vincent’s sake than for hers. 

“Why is she free?” her mother asked, looking around frantically, looking more confused than angry, despite the way she’d entered. 

The policemen around her seemed just as confused as to why Kate was standing amongst them, looking around for someone with an explanation and finding no one. You hoped Vincent would be back soon. You had a feeling you’d be thrown right back into the interrogation room if he wasn’t. 

“She killed him,” Kate insisted quietly, sounding unconvincing even to herself. 

Her mother took a step forward and she couldn’t help but flinch. At that, her mother paused, shifting back once more and keeping her distance. 

“You can’t fool them. They know the truth, they believe me.” Her voice sounded strained and distant and Kate couldn’t help but wonder how much of that was just her mind going. Nothing seemed to quite make sense anymore. 

“They do,” she said, slumping further into Evelyn’s side. The woman took her weight without protest, giving her side a little squeeze that she couldn't make sense of. 

“Of course they do! I am a well-respected woman. And who are you? Unmarried, unsociable, why would they believe you?” The words were careful, intentional, but not how they normally were. There was no tact behind them, not really. 

As she yelled at Kate, restrained and unnoticing of the people watching, it occurred to her that this was not, in fact, her mother. Her mother would never make a scene like this and if she did, if she really snapped like she was supposedly doing right now, she would not keep her distance and try her best to avoid frightening Kate. 

Because that’s what she was doing, stepping away, keeping from shouting too loud, keeping the blame from Kate's shoulders as best she could. It was a show, one calculated to harm her as little as possible while revealing the truth to some closed-minded police officers. 

But Vincent was struggling, struggling to make it natural and believable, so she threw him a bone. 

“You can’t fool me,” Kate said loudly, having no problem making it believable. Maybe she should give Vincent some lessons when this was all over. “They’ll see it soon too. I know you killed him.”

“And I would’ve killed you too if I knew how much trouble you’d cause me,” she said with a scoff. 

And then her eyes widened, looking around at where she was, her breath catching in her chest before she turned tail and ran. 

Everyone was too shocked to stop her, quick orders to chase her down being shouted amidst the chaos. 

Most of the officers left, starting the search efforts. Those who remained didn’t seem to know what else to do with Kate, milling around her awkwardly. 

“What are you doing?” Evelyn snapped. “You heard the woman, she’s innocent, don’t you have better things to be doing than terrorizing this poor girl any further.”

They didn’t seem fully convinced but they seemed more frightened of Evelyn than they were wary of Kate. 

She wondered what it would take for them to fully be done with her, be entirely convinced of her innocence. She imagined there was very little at this point. She’d already messed up too badly, broken too many rules. That crime she was guilty of and so they were convinced that something must be wrong. 

She couldn’t bring herself to care any longer. There was no anger left in her. 

Evelyn began to pull her towards the door and she followed like a well-drilled pup. 

Harvey passed them as they attempted to flee and she knew instantly that it was her detective. She was so much better at seeing it now, at recognizing it, even as distant as she felt. 

He smiled at her and then turned towards the rest of the precinct. 

“And that concludes this case. My apologies for keeping this from you, but I felt the ruse was necessary to find the truth. The lovely Miss Katherine here was willing to help, once she heard my plan. Her intention, of course, was to clear her mother of any suspicion. When we cornered her, she told a different tale. I just needed time to settle the case. Fortunately, she seemed set on doing it for me,” he finished with a put-on laugh.

She heard Evelyn sigh beside her and mutter under her breath, just barely loud enough for Kate to hear, “He really is too much.”

Confused murmurs filled the precinct but Vincent did not seem like he wanted to stick around to clear anything up. 

That felt like it was best. She had no idea where the real Harvey had ended up in the chaos or how long they had until he returned. 

She let Vincent lead her off, Evelyn shifting Kate over to him, shouldering most of her weight as they walked. 

She stayed tucked carefully into his side. It felt safe there, secure in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Why didn’t you do that before freeing me?” she asked, much later than she should have, but at least she still had the sense to ask at all. 

He looked away, a sheepish air taking over him. “I didn’t want to keep you locked in there any longer than I had to. The plan was just to incapacitate Harvey but… it wasn’t right.”

“You’re an idiot.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. I got the job done though.”

“Hmm.” And then, perfectly patient, holding out just long enough to not inconvenience them too badly, she collapsed. 

[xjustakay]

(10/2) prompt: lantern — 959 words (firefighter james vs. his beef with the month of october - pt.1, pt.2, pt.4, pt.5) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus leans his hip against the edge of the counter, sliding a for-here mug in front of where James sits on a stool at the seating bar there. He’s out of the full uniform he usually stops by wearing now that he’s free, but still wears the navy colored tee emblazoned with the station’s shield on the left side of his chest. Dark brows lift when James blinks down at the warm beverage before looking up at him.

“What’s this one, then?” James asks.

He rarely looks as tired as he does; his job keeps him extra busy but it doesn’t typically show. He’s done four twelve-hour days in a row and unfortunately they’ve been consistently busy ones this time around. Regulus is glad that he’s got a full two days off from the station now, because James needs it. Of course, he’s glad for selfish reasons, too, but that’s beside the point.

“Try it.” Regulus nods toward the mug.

Despite the instruction, he prevents James from immediately doing that when he reaches across the counter. There’s a small black smear of smoke residue high on his cheek —clearly not washed off completely before James exited the station— that Regulus smudges away with his thumb. As if his few days hadn’t been long enough, James’ final day of this stint had consisted of some idiot teenagers setting off fireworks as a prank and accidentally setting a fire.

He probably should be nicer, perhaps not playing a cheeky little joke on him, all things considered, but Regulus can’t help himself. Knows that James tends to appreciate this about him anyway.

When James finally does get the chance to lift the drink in front of him and take a careful sip from it for a taste, face immediately scrunching in disgust, Regulus can’t help but huff out a quiet laugh.

“Oh, you’re so mean to me,” James whines petulantly, bending to drop his forehead against the counter.

“Quite the opposite reaction I typically get to a pumpkin spice latte,” Regulus hums.

James lifts one hand to flip him off and Regulus laughs fully this time. He’d learned as soon as the seasonal flavor was set to come out that James hates it, has hated it since the very first time he tried it, thinks it’s overrated and that ‘pumpkin doesn’t belong anywhere but in a pie.’ James sits back up with a deep breath, pushing the mug back across the counter.

“Can’t believe you’ve done this to me right at the start of hell month,” James complains.

“Should I have waited until November?” Regulus jokes.

James sneers at him, but it borders on playful. He scrubs both hands over his face after the fact, nudging up his glasses to rub at his eyes. “God, October really is fucking awful for emergency responders.”

“Halloween really brings it out, huh?”

“You don’t even know.” James drops his hands and looks at him levelly. 

Once again, Regulus is struck by how exhausted he looks. He can’t wait to get off work soon and go home, put James right the fuck to bed so he gets a bit of rest finally.

“Last year, this one woman had lined her porch with this old fashioned oil lantern, a whole bunch of them. For aesthetic, or whatever, all for a decorating contest in her neighborhood. Nearly set her whole bloody yard on fire when one got bumped and knocked over by one of her kids,” James shares.

“Here I thought it would have been one of those jack-o-lanterns people just leave candles burning in for hours on end,” Regulus says.

“Pumpkins actually aren’t combustible, funnily enough. As long as it’s a real one, anyway. Those popular new fake ones people like so much might avoid the rot, but they’re extremely flammable,” James replies.

“Love when you talk fire facts to me,” Regulus teases.

“Shut up,” James chuckles. “Now, if you could oh so kindly fix me a coffee that is not this seasonal abomination, I’d appreciate it.”

“Mm, you’ll have to pay for that one.” Regulus scrunches his nose faintly.

James rolls his eyes, shifting on his stool to retrieve his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, but before he can get it out, Regulus shakes his head. He moves to stand directly across from him, pressing one palm into the counter to lean forward while his other hand tucks beneath James’ chin, tilting his face upward. Recognition flashes in James’ hazel eyes, a lopsided smile curling at his lips.

“Oh, that kind of payment, I see,” He breathes. “Do you let all your customers pay like this?”

“Only the obnoxious, attractive ones from the fire station up the street,” Regulus mutters.

“Your ability to insult me and compliment me at the same time never ceases to amaze, love.”

“Well, I aim for above and beyond customer satisfaction, obviously.”

James hums and straightens up just that little bit more to be able to press their lips together. It’s a slow and lingering sort of kiss, sweet and wanting, but not too much. It’s just lucky no other customers have come in and that Regulus’ cousin owns the place, or he’d never get away with all the time he spends interacting with his boyfriend like this while on the clock. He eases back after a few seconds, brushing his thumb back and forth beneath James’ lower lip.

“Little less than an hour left, yeah? Then we can go home and get you to bed,” Regulus notes.

“Always trying to get me into bed with you,” James teases, blinking heavy lids, eyes flickering down to Regulus’ mouth.

Regulus snorts and gently flicks at the edge of James’ jaw. “To sleep, you heathen.”

“Mhm, whatever you say, love.”

[thelukesalvez]

Luke Alvez x Reader: What You Deserve

Description: Feeling undeserving of luke's attention and affection.

Word count: 5.3k

Warnings: low self-esteem, negative self-talk, internalized fat phobia

A/N: I wrote this back when I was super insecure about my weight (i.e. this is how i felt about every guy i dated). but just saying i lowkey hate the insecure plus-sized reader trope and want to write better plus-size reader fics in the future, but this is all i have to repost for now!

You were ten when you sprained your ankle on the playground at school and wound up at the doctor’s office with your mom. The doctor was nice and distracted you from the pain in your ankle with some funny jokes. He even let you listen to your own heartbeat with his stethoscope. 

But at the end of the visit, once you had a splint on your ankle, he turned to your mom and mentioned the term overweight.  

“She’s on the high end of her age’s weight class,” he said matter-of-factly. And maybe it was just a simple matter of fact. You’d never thought much about your weight before that day. You were happy. You loved to play- especially outside. Your favorite game was capture the flag, but it didn’t matter. You were active and healthy. 

Your mom listened to his advice intently, because he was the professional after all. Who was she to question his word on your health? And when you get home you were immediately placed on what she calls a diet. 

“That means no more ice cream after dinner, and we’re going to cut back on the popcorn, too.”

And maybe the doctor was right, you started to think, as you took a long look at yourself in the full length mirror behind the bathroom door that very same night. You pinched the skin protruding from your stomach and watched as the fat around your thighs jiggled. Maybe you were too big, too fat. You thought of your friends at school and for the first time, (but certainly not the last), you found yourself wondering, why don’t I look like them?

“The diet will help,” your mom told you reassuringly.   

Except it doesn’t. Instead, you wound up gaining more weight, this time at a rapid pace, because you’ve found that when Mom says you can’t have ice cream after dinner, you wind up sneaking into the kitchen after she’s gone to bed and eating it anyway. But you don’t stop there. You eat some of the watermelon that’s left in the fridge, too, and some crackers from the cupboard. Just enough from each box so that she doesn’t notice, but enough altogether, that you go to bed with a full, aching stomach. 

This becomes a pretty standard part of your nightly routine until your mom caught you digging through the pantry one night, while she had come downstairs quietly for a glass of water.  

The look on her face was shock, followed quickly by disgust. You felt embarrassed and ashamed and humiliated. 

“I can’t believe you’ve been doing this,” then, “it’s no wonder you’re gaining all that weight.”

…

You’ve always had a difficult time loving yourself, you’ve always looked in the mirror and not necessarily liked what looked back at you. Sure, there were days where you thought to yourself, I look pretty today. But in the back of your mind there was always that voice that would add, for a fat person. 

When you’re in your twenties, you finally break the habitual pattern of binge eating that you’d been doing since you were a kid. As you ticked off the number of days it had been since a binge, you sighed. You really would have thought that by stopping consistently overindulging, you’d lose the weight. But that wasn’t the case. Instead, your body has plateaued. No more dramatic gains or losses- it just is. The weight, for the most part, stayed on.  

By your thirties, you’d come to an understanding, a blind acceptance, with your body. You didn’t always like it, but you appreciated it. Neutrality, your therapist had encouraged. And that was good enough. 

Regardless, you had other things going for you besides your looks and your weight. You had a great job and infinite career goals to focus on. Not everything had to be about being beautiful and desirable, you learned.  

…

Your favorite thing about being part of the BAU were your coworkers. You never expected how close you’d get to them, but before you knew it, they felt more like your family than anything else. Something about constantly facing life-threatening situations with one another created an everlasting bond encased in mutual trust. 

You and the rest of the team had a rare evening off, which normally, you’d spend waiting skeptically by your phone, convinced that you’d get called in for a case any minute. But not tonight, Emily had promised. All cases were on hold until the morning. You were sitting at home, contemplating what to do with your precious time when the text came through.  

It was Tara messaging the group chat, asking if anyone was up for drinks and a night out. It didn’t take long before Luke’s name came flashing across your screen next. It was impossible to ignore the butterflies fluttering rampantly in your stomach as you read the words that he’s typed. 

I’m in, he said simply.  

Luke was the newest member to have joined the team. Just months prior, he transferred to the BAU from the Fugitive Task Force. As soon as Emily brought him into the conference room, you knew all bets were off. He was tall and handsome, with a clean cut, thick beard and dark skin. While he was given personalized introductions, you had noticed his bicep flexing as he extended his arm out to shake everyone’s hands. When he was introduced to you, his large hand engulfing yours and his dark eyes scanned the length of you, and you knew instantly that Luke Alvez was a catch.  

It was pointless and childish and arbitrary, and you knew it. But you couldn’t shake it, no matter how hard you tried- no matter how many times you told yourself he’d never be into a girl like you. A fat girl like you, the voice in your head said. You tried to challenge that voice- fought back and argued with it occasionally just like your therapist had encouraged, but it still found ways of insisting that you weren’t worthy of attention or affection from someone like Luke. 

So, before your insecurities could convince you to decline Tara’s invite that night, you typed back a quick, I’m in, too. 

…

It turned out most of the team decided to join your night out. And it was fun, or it would have been, if not for the critic in your head being abnormally loud.  

Look how skinny JJ looks in that top- you could never pull that off. 

Don’t eat the nachos, they’ll think you’re fat. 

Eat the nachos, because if you don’t, they’ll know that you know you’re fat. 

As always, it was exhausting and all consuming- a never ending battle in your own mind. And while you knew your team didn’t give a shit if you ate the damn nachos or not, you couldn’t stop obsessing over it.  

You tried your best to enjoy yourself- to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, but it took effort. 

Tara had picked the spot, it was a small pub that serves drinks and food. There was music, but not so loud that you couldn’t hear each other talk. You sipped your vodka lemonade, the straw pinched between your thumb and pointer finger, and watched as Emily and JJ were taking on Rossi and Matt in a game of pool.  

Across from you sat Tara and Spencer. They were having an in depth conversation about Jean Piaget, when suddenly, Luke slid into the empty booth seat beside you. Your senses were instantly overwhelmed momentarily by his cologne, strong but not overpowering. His arm brushed yours, the warmth from his skin sending an electrical current through your entire body. You tensed up, if not just from the shock of it all. But as soon as you let your guard down, the voice in your head crept back in. He can feel how fat your arm is- pull away. So you did. 

If he noticed, he didn’t comment. Instead he smiled, his white teeth on full display. “Having fun?” he asked. 

You took another sip of your lemonade and nodded. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a night away from..” your voice trailed off as you thought of the word. 

“Crime? Murder?” Luke smirked. “Serial killers?”

You chuckled, “How about all of the above?”

Luke nodded. “They say crime never sleeps, but we finally will tonight.” He set his drink down and scratched his beard in contemplation. “I’m thinking at least eight hours tonight.”

“Eight hours?” you gawked, “You’re living large!”

Luke laughed. There was a brief pause in the chatter, and you took another sip of your drink awkwardly. You were about to make a joke about the competitive pool game going on in front of you between Rossi and JJ, when Luke leaned over and said quietly, “You look really nice tonight.”

You faltered, you didn't know how to answer, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look up at Luke’s gaze, because you weren’t sure you could handle it. And while you knew that you should say thank you, you only curled into yourself as if what Luke said was just a snide, nasty remark. Compliments like that were so foreign to you and you felt like you didn’t deserve them, so you had a hard time believing that what Luke had to say was actually genuine. You knew he wasn’t the type of person to ever poke fun at another, but wasn’t that what made the most sense? He certainly wasn’t hitting on you- so maybe it was a pity remark, or just a way to fill the awkward silence. 

You ended up just offering him a curt smile, pretending that you didn’t see the way his face fell. 

…

You were happy most of the time. Not as carefree as some on the team, but still. You joked with Tara and Emily and had meaningful conversations with Spencer. You asked Dave about his weekends and listened with intent as Matt told you stories about his infinite amount of kids.  

But then there were days where you’re nowhere near that feeling. 

There were bad days. And when they came, they were always so sudden and unexpected, it almost took your breath away. 

You were away on a case with the team in Colorado Springs when you had your first really bad day in a long time.  

The case, for the most part, kept you busy, and for a while you were able to ward off the negative thoughts. Instead of fixating on how worthless you felt, you thought about the four victims that had gone missing in the area, you thought of the Unsub and ways your team could find them. You thought about ME reports and patterns in each abduction, it was enough of a puzzle that you were able to stay occupied.  

But when you were back at the hotel, the rest of your team in their own rooms, and left to your own thoughts, that’s when the quiet consumed you.  

As a child, you learned that the one thing-the only thing- that helped when you were feeling this overwhelming sense of anxiety and dread, was to binge. It helped you stuff the negative thoughts so deep down within yourself, that for at least a little while, you were numb to all the pain. 

You knew you shouldn’t- you hadn’t in so long. But just this one time would be okay, right? Only this once, just to feel a little better, and then you wouldn’t do it again. 

The battle inside your own head raged on. You took deep breaths, you tried to journal what you were feeling, but the feeling didn't subside. Only when there was a knock at your door, and you were forced to pull yourself back to reality, did the argument get placed on the backburner. You blinked back tears that you didn’t even realize were there before hastily making your way to the hotel door. 

“J-just a minute,” you tried to make your voice sound normal, like the debate going on inside your mind about what you were about to do would be obvious to whoever was at the door. You quickly wiped your cheeks and brushed your wrinkled shirt off before hoisting it open. 

“Hi,” you managed to smile as you opened the door. 

Luke was on the other side, to your surprise, holding two brown paper bags and a couple of bottled drinks. 

“Hey,” Luke answered, his eyes lingering on your face for a brief moment. You wondered if he could tell you’d been crying. 

“What’s up?” you drawled, as if to politely ask, why the hell are you knocking at my door at eleven pm?

“Everyone else was asleep and I was hungry-” he held up the bag of what was apparently food and shrugged. “Except, I bought way too much, I’ll never eat it all. Are you hungry?”

You gave him a confused look. “I-”

“It’s just burgers, some chicken and some fries, nothing fancy- but I didn’t want to eat alone and I saw your light on..”

You sighed, but then stepped to the side, a gesture for him to come in. Luke gave you a relieved look before entering your room. He headed to the bed, which was the only place to sit. 

“Do you mind?” he asked, motioning towards the mattress. 

You shook your head, “No, go for it.”

You closed the door behind him and joined Luke, barely noticing that the dread in your stomach from earlier had been replaced by a light, fluttering sensation. 

As Luke began unloading the greasy food from the bag, you hesitated. Was this a trick? Was he secretly trying to see how much food you could put away? Was he going to go back and tell the team how much you’d eaten?  

Luke picked up on your apprehension. 

“Is everything okay?”

You don’t answer quickly enough before he asked, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Goddamn these intuitive profilers. 

“Nothing,” you said.  But somehow, Luke heard the lie. 

“I know I’m the new guy,” he said, “and it’s probably gonna take some time before you trust me, I know that. But I want you to know you can talk to me.”

“Yeah.. it-it’s nothing,” you managed to say, because you couldn’t talk. Not about this and not yet. Maybe not ever. 

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Sometimes, it’s tough being the new guy. I can see how close you guys all are and I just want to be a part of that eventually, you know?” His eyes bore into your own and you caught a glimpse of the sincerity behind his words, and that was when you started to feel guilty for ever thinking he was here to make fun of you. Luke was here for a friend, for comfort of his own.  

You sat on the bed next to Luke and took a fry from the basket. “You are part of it.” You assured him. “Everyone here adores you.”

Me included, is what you didn’t say. 

“You wouldn’t be included in our group chat if we didn’t.”

That made Luke smile, his dimple evident in his cheek.  

He stayed in your room for a while, the two of you laughing and talking throughout the night. You never realized how much you didn’t know about Luke.  Like that he had a dog, for example, or that he grew up in Arizona and moved around a lot once he joined the military. He kept you laughing, his jokes and sarcasm thrown intermittently through his speech.  

You shared the chicken and fries with him, not even feeling self conscious when you reached for more to put on your plate. You were too wrapped up in whatever story Luke was telling and the way his eyes lit up as he talked about the things that interested him, to be insecure. 

Luke took the last drink of his bottled water before sighing. “I suppose I should head back to my room, and try to get a little sleep.” He lifted his arm and looked at the watch on his wrist. “I’m definitely not getting my eight hours tonight,” he laughed. 

You nodded in agreement, the two of you standing up in sync, and you walked Luke to the door. 

Luke stepped into the hallway before turning to face you. “Thanks for the company,” he said.

You smiled, “Thanks for the food.”

There was a brief, awkward silence, where neither one of you knew what to do next. But then, it happened quickly. One minute, you were studying the way Luke’s warm, brown eyes were trained on you, and then, before you could predict what would happen next, he stepped forward, one hand planting itself firmly on your hip and the other cupping your chin. He paused briefly, like he was giving you the chance to pull away. But you didn’t- and so the next thing you knew, Luke was pulling you closer to his body and his lips were pressing against your own, their warmth spreading the entirety of your body.  

Fat, fat, fat- your mind suddenly screamed. You suddenly became hyper-aware of his fingers digging into the soft, fleshy part of your hip, and wondered if he’d be repulsed by what he felt. But if he was, he didn’t make it obvious. 

There had to be a catch, you thought- some alternative motive for him to be kissing you like this. Guys like Luke didn’t go after girls like you. Fat girls like you, the voice said. 

He just wants sex.  

He’s not thinking straight. 

He’ll regret this tomorrow. 

You pulled away, breathlessly, your heart suddenly racing. Before Luke could suspect that something was wrong, you offered him your best smile. “I should get to bed,” you explained. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone, you imagined that he wanted to ask what’s wrong, but you were already stepping away from him. Instead he nodded, trying to hide his confusion. “Okay, yeah. G-goodnight.”

“Night,” you whispered before shutting the door. 

…

Luke hoped he hadn’t fucked up.  

That was his first thought as soon as he saw the door close in his face. He bit his lips, they still tasted like you, and slowly backed away.  

His feet drummed against the cheap carpet floor of the hotel as he paced the few doors down to his own room.  

He really thought you’d liked him- thought you’d reciprocated the kiss even.  But judging by the look on your face when you closed the door, he thought that he might be terribly mistaken. 

He didn’t get his eight hours of sleep.  

In fact, he barely got any. Instead, he spent the night trying to figure out where the hell he could have gotten things so wrong.  

When Luke’s phone started buzzing loudly, he felt exhausted and not even close to ready for the inevitably long day ahead.  

Regardless, Luke got ready quickly. The one conclusion that he had come to after contemplating all night was that he wanted to find you and clear the air.  Despite his obvious feelings for you that were now right out in the open, he couldn’t risk your friendship, or making things awkward at work. Once he was showered and dressed, Luke departed the hotel in search of some coffee. 

He remembered that you liked it hot, with just cream and a hint of cinnamon.  This would be his peace offering, an apology for crossing the line, the promise that it wouldn’t happen again. 

…

You were answering a text from Emily on your phone, directing you to go to the ME office, when you heard a voice calling your name.  

Your head snapped up, and there, sure enough, like he was waiting for you in the lobby, Luke came jogging over. In his outstretched arm was a cup of coffee. 

“Hey.”

For a moment, you wondered if maybe Luke really was into you. A kiss one night and coffee the next morning? Surely that meant he wasn’t just looking for a hookup, right? 

You accepted his offering with a smile. “What’s this?” you asked dumbfoundedly.  Could you really be this lucky? Could he actually be interested in you? The butterflies in your stomach started flying rampantly as you quickly got your hopes up. 

“I wanted to apologize-” he said, his head falling, like he was ashamed. “For last night.”

Your heart sank. 

“I crossed the line, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Your friendship means a lot to me-”

And there it was. You were no stranger to the friendship line. Guys used it all the time as a way out.  After going on dates, after hookups- it was always the same response from them when they weren’t interested- I like you but I don’t want to risk our friendship. I really just want to be friends. I’m not ready for a relationship, can we just be friends?

To you that translated as, you’re not good enough for me.  

You were a fool for ever getting your hopes up- for ever thinking that someone like Luke could actually be interested in someone like you. 

You took the coffee and tried not to meet his eager gaze.  

“Don’t worry about it,” is all you could manage to croak out. 

Luke could sense the shift in your tone. “I really am sorry,” he said. 

But you shook your head, and feigned your best smile. You backed away from him, not wanting him to see the glistening tears evident in your eyes.  

Stupid, stupid, stupid, your mind was screaming at you. “It’s fine,” you said instead, your voice cracking slightly just as you turned to leave the hotel lobby. 

…

Luke knew he had fucked up.  

The peace offering that he had made was nothing short of a disaster, and now he’d have to come up with another way to make up for what he’d done. 

That much was obvious as he was left standing alone in the hotel lobby, gazing at the doors you’d just walked out of. 

... 

Three days later, on the jet ride home, Luke could barely get you to even look at him. Not that he had made much of an effort, but still. He wanted to give you space. Hadn’t he done enough damage already? 

He knew he’d have to think of a way to talk to you about what had happened.  Maybe if he just explained himself, you’d understand. 

But how was he supposed to talk to you when you wouldn’t even look at him?

He finally got his chance when the jet landed and the team was back at the BAU. He found you at your desk, hunched over a stack of paperwork. Rossi, JJ, Tara, and Spencer had already left for the night. Matt was gathering his belongings from his desk and heading out the door, meanwhile Emily was barricaded in her office with the door shut. If Luke was ever going to get a minute alone with you- it was now.  

He shuffled cautiously over towards your desk. You gave him no indication that you’d heard him at all, but nonetheless, he cleared his throat before getting too close. He didn’t want to startle you.  

You didn’t even look up from what you’re writing. 

“Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a second?” 

“I can’t right now,” your tone is flat.“I have this whole stack I need to do before tomorrow.”

Luke felt frustrated and dismissed, but he bit his tongue. Instead of pushing, he grabbed half the stack of paperwork from atop your desk and took it back to his own desk. Before you could protest or argue, he sat down and flipped open the first file, ready to work. 

…

The entire floor was eerily quiet. Besides the occasional clicking of keys and scratching of a pen, you and Luke worked in complete silence. 

You felt bad. You really didn’t have to finish all of this paperwork by tomorrow.  That was just your excuse to avoid talking with Luke. But now, it was almost 1 AM and you were nearly finished with it all. 

You heard his pen click and you knew that was his indicator that he was done with his stack. Your heart clenched in your chest anxiously. You heard him approach your desk. There was a sudden thump when he threw the stack back where he found it. 

“There,” he announces. “Can we talk now?”

The man was persistent. 

You set your pen down lightly and sighed. Admitting defeat, you nodded. 

Luke pulled Spencer’s chair out from his desk, which was right next to yours.  He scooted it closer to you. 

Your gaze remained hyper focused on your hands, which were cupped and laid neatly in your lap. Luke ducked his head down, trying to catch your eyes. Begrudgingly, you looked up and made eye contact with him. 

“Listen,” his voice was soft, “I am really sorry for kissing you the other night.”

You groaned frustratedly. “Will you stop apologizing?” you finally said. “I get it, you didn’t want to kiss me. It’s fine- But I don’t need this- this pity.”   

Luke instantly looked taken aback by your frustration, but it was the most you’ve said to him in the last three days, so he took it all in. As your words played back in his mind, he frowned. “I never said I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“Well- whatever you did or didn’t say, I get it, okay? I get that it was a mistake and it didn’t mean anything. It’s fine.”

But Luke continued shaking his head. “I never said any of that-” he protested.  

You remained quiet, but he continued. “I never said any of that. Is that how you feel about it?” he asked, hands clasped tightly together. 

You shrugged. Your cheeks felt hot- you were insecure with Luke’s eyes trained so intently on you. You wished you could just forget this whole thing happened, wished you could just disappear. But Luke kept pushing.  

“Is that how you feel?” he repeated. There was a brief pause. “Because that’s not how I feel,” he said. “I don’t regret kissing you. I like you and I wanted to do it. And I thought you wanted to, too. If I had known you didn’t- I never would have done it. I regret making you uncomfortable, and I regret making things awkward between us, but I don’t regret the kiss.”

Luke’s words swam around in your head, but they were a jumbled mess. You tried to piece them together slowly, in order to process what he was saying. Did he just say he liked you?

There was a part of you that felt like this whole thing had just been a cruel joke.  But yet, here he was- sitting in front of you with the most sincere eyes you’d ever seen, and suddenly, you started to wonder if maybe this was real. Maybe, for God-only-knows what reason, Luke actually had feelings for you- was actually attracted to you. 

“You like me?” you asked, your voice low. 

Luke laughed- like actually laughed- and when you looked up at him, his eyes were squinting as his lips were curled into a wide grin. “Uh, yeah- I thought I’d made that blatantly clear.”

But you shook your head. “I- I didn’t know..”

“I kissed you-” he said, like it’s obvious. 

“I know, but I figured you just wanted to hookup- I didn’t think you actually liked me-”

“But I brought you dinner- and coffee. Did you think I just do that for everyone?”

You remained guarded, because you still couldn’t entirely trust this. “Yeah,” you said. “Kind of, I guess.”

“Okay,” Luke nodded. “Let me spell it out for you then. I like you.” He said each word carefully and slowly. “And I liked kissing you. And I’d really like to date you. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I’d still like to be friends, and I’d really like for things not to be awkward at work.”

You stared in awe, not able to believe any of this was really happening. You wanted to ask why. Why did this handsome, kind, honest man like you? What made you even remotely good enough for him? 

But you didn’t ask. Because did it matter right now?

“Your turn,” Luke urged. “Since I seem to have such a hard time reading you, can you spell it out for me too?”

You hesitated. You’d never flat out told someone how you felt about them. You were insecure and terrified of rejection. And even though Luke had flat out told you rejection wasn’t a possibility, you were still embarrassed to tell him how you felt. You didn’t like how vulnerable that made you- how open to the hurt that made you. 

But Luke’s smile was so reassuring and kind, you tried not to think too much before telling him quietly, “I like you too. I have for a while, actually.”

He chuckled, which you think might just be your new favorite sound. “So why’d you pull away the other night?” he asked longingly.  “Why have you been so distant?”

“Because- I didn’t think someone like you would ever be into someone like me.”

The moment the words left your lips, you regretted it. And when Luke’s face contorted into a look of confusion, and then hurt, you regretted it even more. 

“What do you mean?” he asked.

You fumble with your words, because you weren’t sure how to explain. “I just thought someone like you would be more apt to go after someone that looked more like Tara or JJ or Emily is all.”

“What’s the common denominator there? Because Tara, JJ, and Emily look nothing alike-”

“You know what I mean,” you protested. “I thought someone like you would be more apt to go for someone-” you paused before saying the word, “someone skinnier than- well... me.” 

Luke’s face fell, but you laughed it off nervously. “Just makes me wonder why, is all,” you said. 

“I like you-” he assured you. “I like you because you’re smart and you’re thoughtful.”

Luke’s managed to scoot his chair increasingly closer to you without you noticing. When you looked down, you realized that your knees were practically touching. The first thing that ran through your mind is, oh my God, your thighs are bigger than his. But you shook the thought away. You weren’t going to let that voice ruin this- not again. 

“You’re intuitive- the best profiler.”

The way Luke was looking at you made everything else melt away. All you saw was him and those unimaginably warm eyes. 

“You’re kind and generous and you make me laugh,” he paused. “You’re beautiful.”

You remembered how soft his lips felt against yours when you kissed days ago, and all you wanted was to taste him again. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long for your wish to come true. Luke leaned in, closing the gap between you two. Just when he was only inches from your face, he grinned. “I could keep going, you know?”

You ignored him and his cheeky grin and instead you leaned forward, and without thinking, cupped his face between your hands and pulled him closer.  

His lips were exactly as you remembered, soft and smooth and all-encompassing. Luke’s hand landed just above your knee and when you started to wonder whether or not your leg felt fat underneath his touch, you were able to silence it. Who the hell cares? Certainly not Luke, that much you were learning quickly. In fact, you wondered if maybe he even liked it. The thought passed quickly, and you were able to focus on the man in front of you instead- the one who was quickly claiming you as his own. The one you deserved. 

[rishiguro]

47; “I’M SCARED”

“this doesn’t look so bad,” iwaizumi commented as he looked around the small room, “i’m almost tempted to say it looks comfortable”

“sure does,” you replied, rolling your eyes as you sat down on the bed again, gesturing him to sit down with you. “comfortable if you’re into these walls paired with these ugly orange-brownish curtains”

well, you certainly weren’t wrong. it wouldn’t have been his first choice either to combine these two colors together. he sat down next to you.

“it’s better than the blinding white ones though,” he remarked, shrugging slightly as he thought about the sterile rooms he spent way too much time in, “although i don’t know why anybody would choose this piss-yellow colour for the entire room”

you hummed und agreement, allowing your head to fall onto iwaizumi’s shoulder.

“i can’t even open the windows fully,” you mumbled.

you frowned as he chuckled, making your head bounce slightly on his shoulder. “i don’t think they would want you to escape” he softly pat your head before turning his and pressing a kiss on your scalp.

“why not? i would come back,“ you said.

your boyfriend could only huff, not being to stop his lips curling upwards slightly. “sure you would”

“totally. or i don’t know, maybe i’d just jump out” immediately as you finished the sentence, iwaizumi flicked your forehead. “hey!”

“idiot,” he mumbled.

“no need to get violent,” you muttered as you rubbed your forehead, “i couldn’t leave you anyways, you’d be lost without me” lifting your head you grinned at him.

rolling his eyes at you, he smiled in return and hummed in agreement. afterwards he put his arm around your waist and lowered his head, softly pecking your shoulder before laying his head down.

he didn’t want to imagine losing you.

and yet, as fleeting as the thought may have been, he felt his chest ache.

“you can’t just leave me behind,“ he agreed with a low voice, reaching out to grab your hand. immediately he started playing with your fingers.

“i’m not planning to,” you declared, “i love you”

“i love you too,” iwaizumi hummed.

he swallowed quickly before speaking again, still looking down at your hands. “not just me, you know. there’s a bunch of people that do”

you furrowed your eyebrows. “is everything alright?”

he sighed before sitting up, turning to face you directly. “to be honest, that’s what i wanted to ask you,” he confessed, now taking both of your hands in his, “are you sure you’re alright?”

you could only blink at him confused for a few moments, not really understanding the sudden change in atmosphere. did you give him any reason to worry even more than he already did?

obviously you weren’t doing good by any means.

you were practically being ripped out of the comfort of your home, the one thing that has been consistent no matter at what point in your life you were and not just transferred to a hospital but to the palliative ward no less.

medically speaking, you had to be tended to to maintain your quality of life because currently it was impossible for you to do it yourself. and if that wasn’t enough, it could very well last till the end of your life.

who knows when that would be here too. if it was a few years away or right around the corner.

you had always known that sooner or later your life would end. you also knew that your life would end earlier than most people’s. you told yourself that this was alright and frankly, after a while you started to believe it.

or so you thought.

and yet here you were now.

you clenched your jaw. “no,” you confessed, looking away, “i’m scared, hajime. everything is happening too fast and i feel like i don’t have the time to process anything before more shit is happening”

without saying anything, iwaizumi pulled you closer to him, wrapping his strong arms around you.

his embraced felt warm, comforting.

like it was everything you needed and even more.

well, almost.

“we’re here for you, love,” he whispered to you softly, “as long as you’ll have us, we’ll be there. i’m right here with you. and so will ojiro, kita, the twins and suna”

at the mention of your friends’ names your heart grew heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from shaking your head.

“they don’t even know, hajime,” you confessed in a hushed tone, “i haven’t spoken to them in days. i just couldn’t” tears started to slowly swell up in your eyes, leading you to shutting them close.

you wanted to tell them. you really did. when you got the news, then when they came over to your place, completely unaware that you wouldn’t be there just a day later and then when you first stepped into this room. and every day after.

yet you didn’t.

“i know, love. it’s okay”

“it’s not,” you replied immediately, “it’s not, they’re my friends, fuck, aran is my best friend, i’ve known him my entire life, he’s always been there for me, and yet i couldn’t fucking tell him!”

after just a few moments of silence you felt like you could collapse in his arms, whispering into his shirt. “i don’t even know if i want to tell him. or them”

iwaizumi didn’t reply, instead simply adjusted his hold on you, pulling you into his lap and pressing you to his chest.

for a while, the two of you simply stayed like this. you let yourself be comforted by his embrace, feeling his heart pound i’m his chest against yours, and how his shoulder moved slowly, compared to the rapid rise and fall of yours.

“hajime, do you think i should?” you looked up at him and immediately met his warm eyes. when he didn’t answer, you called his name out again.

“i know they’re worried,” he finally said, his lips twitching. you averted his gaze in shame, clenching your jaw.

you never wanted them to worry. childishly, you had hoped that they wouldn’t worry and just carry on with their lives. maybe not go as far as forget about you, but at least distancing themselves enough from you so the pain of the inevitable wouldn’t hurt as much.

naturally, you knew better. but staying in that illusion felt so much more comfortable than confronting the truth.

“i’m not going to tell you what to do,” iwaizumi spoke again, still looking at you with the very same loving and understanding eyes, “but i know that they want to talk to you, whenever you’re ready to talk to them”

evanescent

/ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/ — “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.”

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Flirty!MultiVillains x Clueless!Reader || Excerpts / Reactions

Plot: The friendzone is a many splendored thing... not. (You friendzone them) Includes: Candy Pop, Dark Link, Inkubus, Long John Silver, and Oogie Boogie. Warnings: Sexual references!! Derogatory and degrading statements!! These are mostly from the villain’s point of view. Feminine pet names used (Especially in Silver's. He consistently uses 'lass'). Oh also Inkubus may have some sinister intentions... but they are not disclosed and honestly what do we expect. Unedited as of yet. Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @masqueradeball , @miss_understood , @moxiiscool , @ryantryan6969 , @spookiifi , @thecourtofgraywaves , @yesthetrashbin , and @your-mxnd-is-mxne . Hi all! ^^ Please head the warnings, its meant to be comedic, but Candy Pop and Dark both make some very gross comments 😅 Hope y'all enjoy and have a great day ^^

Candy Pop:

You walk away quickly after that, giving him that sweet kiss on the cheek and saying he’s such a lovely friend to you, and he wonders for a split second whether that was on purpose. “-Excuse me?!?” Surely you know that he wants his hand down your pants? “Hooooold on hold on hold on- “ You can’t be this dumb. Surely! Almost immediately Candy Pop whips around and follows you right down the hall- quickly catching up to you and skipping ahead, walking backwards in front of you, making you smile. “Love! Love, love- what was that last part??”

“I’m glad to have you, Pop.” You grin back, giggling at the befuddled look on his face. It does not clear up.

“Uhuh… as??... “He prompts you carefully, waiving his hand in a ‘go on’ sort of gesture.

“A friend! A wonderful friend.”  

“… hah, sorry, again? I just can’t wrap my head around those words. Must be our language barrier.”

Adorably confused, you tilt your little idiot head at him; Eyebrows knitted together. Oh god, he thinks. Are you not joking after all? “Candy Pop, you’re English.”

… Right… okay- “Yes, well, English used to be quite different in my time, right??” Yeah, that’ll do for an excuse. Sure. “Anyway- again?? You love me… as??”

Sighing, you stop walking and reach out to put a hand on his arm; Making him stop, too, and guiding him towards you. Theirs a gentle, concerned look on your face and your touch makes him feel weak, makes the skin under your fingers light on fire, and he just wants to shove you against the wall and taste you under his tongue. All over. But- “Candy Pop. Whatever you’re thinking… stop.” Holy shit you’re not joking!! You’re truly a dumbass!! What is he going to do!?? He wants to shove his tongue in your asshole, so this- he can’t- this won’t- this is just not going to work!?? “You are lovely- to me, at least.” You give a giggle, and its enchanting, you’re enchanting, but he has never wanted to squeeze you more then right now. Even with your pretty hand on his arm and your pretty eyes on him and your pretty voice in his ears. “and I do love you. Believe it, bud.”

Then you give him another soft, maddening kiss on his painted cheek, and leave again. This time he does not follow. This time he’s too gobsmacked.

Slowly he brings a hand up to his mouth, chewing on his nails and staring at the floor… oh my this is a disaster.

Dark Link:

“Mmm, y’know Y/N,” As the movie begins the play, after you’ve opened your jumbo bag of doritos and settled down beside Dark on his bed, he takes the opportunity to throw an arm over you. He’s close, now, just like he likes it, and he can see you stuff your face with artificial cheese in detail, sure, but eh- you’re a cute pig. You pull it off. Good on you. “This is a pretty freaky flick… if you get scared, be free to get cozy with me… BEN’s not gonna be here, tonight.”

At least he better not; Dark paid the little weasel handsomely in Hostess cakes and threatened his little man if he did show up. Tonight is the night Dark makes his damn move on you. A real move. One you won’t be able to write off a joke or just friendly. You’re obtuse, but you’ll get it this time. He’s sure.

… because honestly if you don’t, he’s going to lose what’s left of his ever-loving mind. He may have to fuck BEN, or Jeff, if you don’t get it this time. Any dank, warm hole will do but he hopes it’ll be yours. He’s going insane using his hand and wishing it was you. This trying to fuck you thing, has been an ordeal. He’s actually exhausted. You’re dumb as a box of rocks and he wants to feel you so bad. It’s killing him.

You’re killing him.

“Oh,” You pop a dorito in your mouth, looking at him with those pretty (clueless) eyes. “Where’s he gonna be?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Anyway- “

“That’s a shame.”

“Yeah whatever. So like I was saying- “

“Are you sure he’s not coming around?? I’ll wait- “

“New conversation babe. Stay with me. I just want- “

“I have a bit of a crush on him… “You confess then, awkwardly, a nervous look on your face- but also relieved, like you’ve been wanting so badly to tell him this for a while.

… And Dark sputters, losing his entire train of thought entirely and just staring at you; Under his arm, looking adorable and shy, picking at one of the corners of your dorito bag and telling him… what!? The sound of blood curdling screams erupt from the horror movie then, which is fitting. “… C- Uh, c- come again please?”

You look bashful, before groaning and hiding your face in your hands. Dark follows your face with his eyes, not moving because he’s in shock. “You couldn’t tell?? Aghhh, I feel like I act like a total loony tune around him.”

“… Nope, baby, I couldn’t tell… “

“Oh you’re just saying that!”

“No, babydoll, I promise I am not.” … I guess I’m fucking Jeff tonight then. Goddamnit.

Inkubus:

… He feels like he’s being filmed. Leaning back suddenly, Inkubus brushes a few leaf’s from your annoying pot plant aside and glances behind it. Camera crew?? Secret hidden videographers?? Hello??

No?

He looks swiftly back to you, and you’re still gushing! And yes, you are gushing, right now. To him. That is how he would describe it because that is the correct word. You’re positively glowing, right now, and you certainly don’t notice how disorientated he has gotten- almost feeling dizzy, of all the pathetic human ailments, because this has never happened before, things have never gone this horribly wrong-  

“- oh sorry!! I’m talking too much, aren’t I??” Inkubus watches you tuck hair nervously behind your ear, as innocent as ever, and barely restrains the urge to roll his eyes- or snarl. You’re still completely what he wants, still clean and pure and perfect for his needs. Just your scent puts a sweet taste on his tongue. He can’t… he has to have you. “You don’t want to hear about this… hahah… “

He absolutely can’t believe it. … what are you? If you’re human, which he’s sure that you are, then you shouldn’t be immune to his charm’s. You should be physically compelled. And even if he wasn’t using his powers, you still shouldn’t be able to resist him. He has had a long time to perfect his act, and women - as well men, and everyone else, anyone he wants, - usually fall at his feet. It’s just… the way that it is! Si... What- What- What!?-

But you’re completely in love with someone else. That’s clear.

… But he wants you.

… Taking a deep breath in and rolling his shoulders gracefully, almost totally inconspicuously, forcing himself to calm down, Inkubus pastes a smile onto his face. “No,” He shrugs. “I don’t mind at all- tell me more.” Eugh. “Maybe we can come up with a solution together, hm? Be free to tell me everything… “

It’s been a few centuries since he has played the long game… but here we go~

Ugh… quaint. Truly.  

Long John Silver:

... Just shoot me. Put me out of my misery, please. Morphie, pal-

The little traitor just jiggles and bubbles in the air behind the lass's head, silently laughing his bleeding backside off after the mortifying kick in the pants that Silver just received from you. Silver glares at the creature, but quickly smoothens his face back out again when you look back at him.

Agh... just keep smilin'. Jussttt keep smilin'... dont be a sore git about this... it was worth a shot at least, it was.

"Y'know lass," Silver finally manages to speak, hating what he has to say. "I didn't know y'had a lad, back home... Y'never mentioned 'im, before now. Promse ya, I wouldnta asked-... well, I cant say that. Lets just say I wouldnt've come on quite so strong, eh? If I'd known." He gives a playful wink, brushing off the awkward moment for your sake. Its not yer fault you aint got room in your life for an old pirate like him!

"Oh, hah. Didnt I?"

No, ya sure didn't. He'd've remembered. "Nope, but that's okay lass... I'm just gonna be a splash heartbroke, now. Probably cry meself to sleep fer a couple nights..." He jokes, rubbing the skin over his heart and watching you cover your face, in sweet sheepishness. Oh, you're cute. Very cute. Whoever's got ya is one lucky bastard. "... But I'll get over it, promise ya."

"Ohhhh," Bashful and sweet as all hell, you peak out from your hand and look all-guilty up at him. Damn, you are a lovely thing you are. "I'm so sorry... "

"Don't even think on it, love. Now- "Clearing his throat, Silver picks up the huge, heavy stew pot in his two strong hands. "lets get the grub out there for those men, unless we want a mutiny on our hands."

Oogie Boogie:

"Wha- Friend!???" Oogie immediately throws his body dramatically backwards, hearing that; A hand to his chest. "You see me as a friend!???"

"Well... "Nodding your head, all-wholesome (Blegh), you confirm his suspicion, making the bugs in his stomach absolutely roll. "Yeah, Boogie!- "

"Friend!???" If he had a heart, he would seize it. My god, wasn't he clear?? What does a guy haveta do around here to get some pretty little tail??? The hell is this 'friend' crap!?

"Yes, Boogie!"

"How doya figure that!?"

"Well... " Now you're starting to look kind of hurt. You?? You hurt??? He's the one who's hurtin' now, doll!! What the heck is goin' on here??? "I- I- I mean, I thought so- "

"Pumpkin! I do like ya- but I don't think ya get what's happenin', here!" When you just tilt your head to the side, like a damn puppy dog (Disgustingly sweet), Oogie facepalms. Satan gimmie strength! "... do I have to be painfully clear with you, sweetbean??~~ "

"... Hm?"

"Oh- " Huff "fine." Suddenly Oogie slips in close to you again, curling an arm sneakily around your waist and yanking you against his front. A dirty old smirk tears across his face as he leans into yours. "... this'll be fun, anyway~ Hehehe... Hold on tight to me gorgeous, we're goin for a ride~ And its all or nothin', so keep ya wits aboutcha okay doll?"

[neil-for-me13]

Growing Pain

Chapter I - Sowing Sorrows

“I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.” ― Edgar Allan Poe A typical Nevermore student, that's what you are. Most of your free time grossly consists of anything that is flora related or your other interests. During your third year you practically lived either in the greenhouse or out by the garden fields. Merrily you were whistling a tune out in your own little field that you cultivated at the far edge of nevermore forest and away from the lupin cages. It was early spring just in time for your germinated plants to peak out from its pot and to be transplanted to the rich plot of garden soil. The afternoon sun was out and just enough to beamed through the canopies. The wind was perfect to ease the grueling labor that awaits you. You were excited to plant your new varieties of belladonnas and foxgloves, maybe this time the new fertilizer would finally let them bloom. The last one made hydrangeas wilt even though the rainy season was perfect for them to thrive. Perhaps he’s it's a little acidic for the poor flower. This time you took the time to observe your compost for any potential inadequacies before processing him the plant food. Months of preparation and research with a little bit of footwork; You hope this fertilizer was worth the effort. Everyone was so invested in him, you’re a little bit curious as to why. You were digging small holes for your germinated belladonnas, when you sensed a presence behind, quietly approaching. You continued whistling and transplanting the first of your plants, now fully aware that a heavy platformed-shoe wearing individual would actually talk or threaten you before going for the kill; and even then no one can harm you in your own garden. No one. “Y/N, did you kill the hyde?” Oof, first name call out. 3 meters away and the forest breeze still carried her scent to you. Then you thought about how her scent would perfectly pair with the plants that you were in the midst of growing beneath you. Of course her scent would be perfect for your deadly wild greenery. A large inhale with the light breeze would cause your eyes to visibly dilate, thankfully she can only see your back from behind. 

“Hello to you too, Wednesday.” You continued to shovel the soil for the next plant in the row without turning around to face her. Knowing that  her temper would grow sour when you deliberately ignore her opening inquiry, you can’t help but smirk a little when she stomps a little bit closer to you. “Answer the question, Y/N.” Her tone clipped and the question loaded with accusation. You note that you didn’t need the breeze anymore to smell her scent, although a little bit sharp you relished it anyway. This has got you thinking if the body can produce enzymes and proteins based on emotions; would a horrible, tortured, and fear-stricken fertilizer be good to your plants’ nutrition. You were suddenly deep in thought that you forgot to answer her question or is it an accusation now? Because the next moment you were reminded how impatient Wednesday can be. With rushed paces she closed in on you, grabbed your sweaty collar and made you face her. “What was the question again?” you smiled coyly. “I will not repeat myself, Y/N '' she snarled, brows furrowing and deep brown eyes narrowing. Oh wow, in your squatting position she looks towering but not the city skyscrapers more like red wood trees. The sun was filtered through the leaves leaving specks of sun rays reflected upon her freckles. If you hoped she didn’t see your dilating eyes awhile ago, that hope is long gone now. You shamelessly took your time to take in all of her facial features from her fiery eyes, to her nose, to her cheeks, the hidden eyebrows, and then her lips. You softened your eyes and adjusted your position to inch closer to her ear. Careful not to touch her with your soiled gloves. “If I said no, would you believe me?” you say as you notice her shudder a little. “No. The possibility that you have caused the hyde to disappear is higher than any of my other suspects.” she uttered without moving away or inching closer while she still held on to your collar. I could live forever in this moment, Wednesday, your scent is heavenly and you’re holding me like you’re afraid that I’ll fall off the earth once you let me go. This moment in my garden (our) garden is to die for. You are to kill for. 

“I take offense that you have others in mind, Wednesday. Although I admit I am quite curious on how I became your number one and had the privilege to be visited miles away from the comfort of your writing desk. And minutes away from your writing time I might add.” you inch closer again to the reddening shell of her outer ear and puff out a breath, restraining yourself not to bite;not yet.

Your breath seems to jolt Wednesday to life, she lets your collar go and then you plop down the ground. You let out a chuckle. Knowing the effect you had, to make Wednesday elicit such a physical reaction. 

You smile and look up at her, ah the bliss of seeing her cheeks tinted light blush with embarrassment mixed with the tumultuous red with fury; the privilege of witnessing such displays of outward emotions can be only yours. Mine. My privilege. Only mine.

“May I interest you for some tea while you unfold how you think I did the crime you think I committed?” you slowly dusted yourself off then stood to collect your unplanted flowers and garden tools. Leaving your half-done grounds for another day. 

“I don’t have coffee beans yet; I’ll have them planted by the summer.” You stretched your back and turned to wink at her. “For your coffee addiction.” And to keep you from going back to that fucking Weathervane.

Wednesday blinked at your invitation, still seemingly flustered from your antics. You stood waiting for her to gather her walls and consent to your impromptu tea-party.

“I still have some arsenic and cyanide if you want a little kick to your tea.” you entice. “Cyanide.” she nods. She stood still, eyes tracked your next move. You offer a small smile and then walk towards a small shed to stow your baggage and store your gloves and apron. Beside the shed was a small awning with a table and two chairs. You ushered her towards the chair, aware that her eyes were following you and still vigilant with your movement. “Staring at me like you’ll devour me. Why darling, I’m flattered.” You continue to put away your tools and begin to prepare the water for boiling and locate the stored tea leaves. “You know if you were to kill me, the tools in your shed wouldn’t suffice.” she misdirects your last statement, while eyeing every equipment hanged meticulously in your tool shed like an arsenal.

“That much I know, Darling.” you smirked. She proceeded to walk over to one of the chairs to sit. While you lit the flame of a small camping burner by a small counter.

“I’ll make the tea just sit there and in a while we’ll begin to talk about your deductions; Well.. you’ll talk and I’ll listen.” You say as you begin to pour the boiling water into the tea pot. 

You picked out a half emptied Earl Grey tea leaves, dark and well suited for the caffeine levels that (your) Wednesday craved. The powerful aroma of bitterness and bergamot wafted when the leaves were submerged into the teapot. You paused and looked at her as she was taking in every little detail of your garden, her head pointing to the direction of the section she wanted to scan. The plot lands, the fruiting trees, the numerous bushels, the small diy greenhouse for the herbs as well as the seedlings, and the compost processing pit. 

It was a rustic garden that was almost a homestead that you did all by yourself and she respected that, and your collection of poisonous plots elicits a tiny warmth in her heart remembering how her mother would have adored talking your ear off all day about them.

The afternoon light bounced off on her face just right that even a godless stranger would call her divine. Her perfectly weaved braids, posture so straight that you’d swear she had those corrective braces if you’d only just met her, her smooth cheeks that's sprinkled with constellations of freckles, her lips slightly pursed for when she’s formulating thoughts inside of her sharp-witted mind, and her eyes; the most luscious brown of leather patina that reflected her sentiments. You know this is true because her eyes are now glowering at you.

“Might you be steeping it a little too long or is this one of your delaying tactics? She speculates now fully facing you, which made you smile.

“Darling, if I intend to keep you here for a long time I’d be thinking of doing other fun activities rather than drinking tea wouldn’t you agree?” 

You place your tea set and a small vial of cyanide onto a tray and make your way toward her. You arrange each cup on the table neatly and set aside the platter. 

You sauntered behind her with the tea pot, leaned down close enough for you to sneak a glance at her, poured out a decent amount of darkened tea and sprinkled a teaspoon worth of the almond flavored toxin.

“And I happen to know you preferred your beverages darker and deadlier than most. Although you can say the same if you tried some pepsi or cola.” your head turned to her to gauge out her reaction.

“ Surely, you jest.” She turned toward you to scowl at the idea of her ingesting anything that was sickeningly sweet. Your faces so close that a strong gust of wind can knock you off your feet and your lips might accidentally collide with hers.

“Don’t knock it until you try it.” you shrugged, walking back to your seat and settling down to your seat across from her. You served yourself some tea and took a sip to ease her growing suspicions towards the drink.

“Okay now we’re set, you have the floor. Cara mia.” you smiled deviously. Author's Note: My first ever delve into fanfiction territory. Long time reader but amateur writer. Suggestions and questions are welcome.

[lostlightandfoundcrazy]

It Began With A Run

Forgive me, for my mind as taken hold in a way that is foreign to me, yet familiar. New ideas, new stories, and far too little fanfiction, even if the phantom is very much not-dead :p

Enjoy loves! And may Clockwork be ever in your favor.

(I had to do it, I just had to)

This was not planned. Hell, Danny didn’t understand couldn’t tell you what was planned, because there wasn’t one. However, he can tell you how it began.

Telling my parents about being Phantom was not the best idea, but in my defense, they had been calm over the last year or two, and I’d spent more years dealing with their constant ideas and prejudice towards the other version of me than could be healthy. Deep down, I was tired, bone creakingly tired of being on constant edge, worried they would find out and what they would do to me.

I never meant to tell them but when you’re running on 2 hours of sleep over the last week and a half because school and ghost/heroism do not mix, no matter what the bats will tell you, it just sort of spills out. Puns are not the way to go, by the way, if you are trying to tell your parents you are half dead. Another thing, Fuck you, I know for a fact that those bats are kids, one of them is my twin brother. He just… doesn’t know that I know who he is. Listen, not my best brother moment, but I lost the rights to even be a part of that competition when I left Damian with the league.

Besides… he doesn’t recognize me anyway. I’ve changed too much, been gone too long, I don’t even look like him anymore. How do I know this? Because I just handed him his batburger nasty burger is way better and he just looked right on through me. He looks happy though, surrounded with Tim Drake and Richard Grayson, that smile glare was proof of that. His eyes are alight with so much more than I had ever seen when I was with him.

“Hey Demon, Pretender, Dick” I turned to the door, the perfect customer-service simile on his face. However, that smile grew into a real one when he saw who it was. Jason Todd, although, he wouldn’t tell you that, he’s got to keep a low profile, he is meant to be dead after all. I turned and ordered Jason’s usual, a red-hood burger. It is really good, much better than the regular bat burger, but I couldn’t tell you what it consists of, only Red Hood himself knows. Maybe I should just ask Jason, I’m sure he would tell me.

I turned back around now, his order in my hand and his drink made with ghost ice. What? It calms him down It keeps your drinks colder for longer without melting as fast and Jason always complains about the ice melting in his drink, this just shuts him up. I lean against the counter and wait for a minute, today is pretty slow so its just us in the joint, other than the cook but he just went on lunch break. Jason finally looks over at me and I hold up the order with a smirk on my face.

“I can’t believe you’re just letting your burger get cold like this. Maybe I should just eat it instead, it’s not the best but it will do…” I peak into the bag, skewing my face into something akin to contemplative. I hear Jason huff and the others stifle a laugh and tense ever so slightly.

“Don’t make me come over there Danny, I’ll make you regret it.” Jason threatens, but we all know that he doesn’t really mean it. At least, that’s what I though, until the others tense further and Dick steps in between us slightly.

“Alright Jason, I’m sure the kid didn’t really-“ Richard spoke, his voice calms and his hands slowly going up, but he gets stopped short when I pop up under his arm and between him and Jason.

“Yeah Jason, take a chill pill. It’s my job to be a hot-headed, angsty teen, not yours” I push the bag and drink into his hands and flick him on the forehead, pushing some of my ectoplasm into him. The effect is instant, even if no one else notices. His shoulders drop a little, his smile grows, and his eyes, oh his eyes, they went from a muted, dull happy, to a fiery swirl of joy and excitement.

“Alright Alright” Jason’s voice was soft like silk, “Hey death buddy, meet my family, that’s Tim, Dick, and that your look-alike Damian” Jason paused for a moment and tilted his head. “Damian, I think you have a clone, I mean, look at him” Jason made gestures at me, his eyebrows drawn together in thought.

Damian made a tt sound with his mouth and moved to rebuke Jason’s claims, or, he would have, if the name hadn’t struck a chord core memory feelings, thoughts, home home home. It hit Damian full force; I could see it. My twin, my brother who I love beyond all else and failed worse than any other, tried to hug me.

What can I say, this story began with a run.

[emberisk]

Look…Not to be all Cinema Sins and not to pretend the Tinkerbell movies are in anyway consistent…but What the fuck happened to all the blue dust from the second movie in the fifth movie

If we assume that the bowl(First image) they prepared for the blue dust ceremony is the amount they expected to reap, they got at least TEN TIMES THE EXPECTED YEILD. I mean for Queen Clarions Sake FAIRY GARYS UP TO HIS TORSO IN THE STUFF!!! IT SHOULD LAST FAR MORE THAN 8 YEARS!!!!!

In the fifth movie there’s like….a bottle of it left. (Second image)

These fucks are rationing the shit out of it! They have this tiny little dropper they fill meticulously so they never use too much!!!

How were they coasting on the previous 1 bowls worth for 8 years if they apparently blew (haha blue) through 10x the expected ceremony amount in what 7 years max?…Maybe I should establish why I chose that number

“When is this movie supposed to take place?”

Maybe this movie takes place a far long while after the Lost Treasure but nothing seems to suggest that.

The movies started with a pretty simple concept. Tinkerbell is introduced to seasons.

1. Tinkerbell - Spring

2. Lost Treasure - Autumn

3. Great Fairy Rescue - Summer and also possibly in the wrong order chronologically??? Why is summer after autumn? Idk unless this is her second summer this doesn’t make sense but also it can’t be her second summer because during her FIRST winter she tells Periwinkle about Elizabeth. Strange

4. Secret of the Wings - Winter

The fifth movie MUST follow Secret of the Wings because Periwinkle. It also does have a 1 year time skip. I personally believe the movie takes place…a maximum of 6 MAYBE 7 years following the second movie. The reason I say that is because the Blue Dust ceremony happens every 8 years. If this movie takes place less than 6 years in the future the misuse of the Lost Treasure blue dust is even worse. If it takes place 8 or more years in the future I would assume they’d have an even greater surplus of dust since they still have the dope ass moonstone staff Tinkerbell made.

Maybe they do have a secret surplus stash of dust but there’s absolutely no suggestion of that in the fifth movie. It’s like they’re pretending the second one didn’t happen but they’re still using the blue dust concept that the second movie established so that’s weird.

Maybe Fairy Gary lost all the dust in a bet. Maybe it’s hidden under his kilt. Maybe he snorted it like magical cocaine. I have no answers. Maybe it’s in the books.

Someone who’s read the books please tell me if there is an answer. I will appreciate it

[curiositymemes]

ATLAS : ENNEAGRAM SENTENCE STARTERS.

taken from the 2019 album released by sleeping at last, consisting of songs based on the nine enneagram personality types. feel free to change wording and pronouns and provide context as necessary. do not add to this list.

ONE.

“hold on for a minute.”

“i believe that we can fix this over time.”

“let me finish.”

“we’ll only know for certain if we try.”

“i want to sing a song worth singing.”

“i’ll write an anthem worth repeating.”

“now i have learned my lesson.”

“i’ve spent my whole life searching desperately.”

“grace requires nothing of me.”

TWO.

“sweetheart, you look a little tired.”

“when did you last eat?”

“come in and make yourself right at home.”

“stay as long as you need.”

“tell me, is there something wrong?”

“you can count on me.”

“you know i’ll take my heart clean apart if it helps yours beat.”

“let me take your coat.”

“i will love you with every single thing i have.”

“i will love you without any strings attached.”

“it’s okay if you can’t catch your breath.”

“no, i don’t want to talk about myself.”

“tell me where it hurts.”

“you’re good as new.”

“i don’t even know where to start.”

“i just want to love you.”

“i just want to learn how, somehow, to be loved myself.”

“and what a privilege it is to love, a great honor to hold you up.”

“i will love you without a single string attached.”

THREE.

“maybe i’ve done enough.”

“your golden child grew up.”

“maybe this trophy isn’t real love.”

“with or without it, i’m good enough.”

“i finally see myself through the eyes of no one else.”

“it’s so exhausting on this silver screen, where i play the role of anyone but me.”

“i finally see myself unabridged and overwhelmed.”

“a mess of a story i’m ashamed to tell.”

“i only want what’s real.”

“let my heart feel what it feels.”

“he’s/she’s/they’re/we’re/you’re/i’m worthy of love anyway.”

FOUR.

“i’m turning out the lights.”

“remember how to see?”

“for a moment we get to be glorious.”

“maybe i’m hiding behind metaphor.”

“maybe my heart needs to break to be sure.”

“i’ve fallen in love with a ghost.”

“i lost my balance when i needed it most.”

“this blurry photograph is proof.”

“it feels like truth.”

“i’m stuck swimming in shadows.”

“it’s been forever since i came up for air.”

“what if we already are who we’ve been dying to become?”

“a reflection of magnificence.”

“(it’s) hidden in you, maybe even in me.”

FIVE.

“i want to watch the universe expand.”

“i want to break it into pieces small enough to understand.”

“it feels like an out-of-body experience.”

“now i can’t put my mind to rest.”

“i can’t help but second guess.”

“i’m hypnotized by this anomaly.”

“such strange uncharted territory.”

“my armor falls apart.”

“if i could let myself be seen, even deeply known.”

“i was already brave enough to let go.”

“it’s hidden in heartbeats, exhales, and in the hope of open hands.”

SIX.

“i had the most vivid dream.”

“my feet had left the ground.”

“i was floating to heaven.”

“i could only look down.”

“my mind was heavy, running ragged with worst case scenarios.”

“i woke up so worried.”

“oh god, i’m so tired of being afraid.”

“if i’m being honest, i’m not sure i’d know how.”

“i wanna take shelter but i’m ready to fight.”

“i feel a little paralyzed.”

“maybe i’m stronger than i realize.”

“i want to believe; no, i choose to believe.”

“fear won’t go away, but i can keep it at bay.”

“with a vigilant heart, i’ll push into the dark.”

“i’ll learn to breathe deep and make peace with the stars.”

“is it courage or faith?”

“there will be light always waiting behind even the darkest of nights.”

“no matter what.”

“somehow we’ll be okay.”

“don’t be afraid.”

SEVEN.

“we could try everything.”

“i’m serious.”

“what about danger?”

“so what?”

“what about risk?”

“i’m restless for whatever comes next.”

“how wonderful to see a smile on your face.”

“a welcome home parade.”

“a secret handshake.”

“i’ll find the silver lining no matter what the price.”

“i’m hungry for whatever comes next.”

“let me tell you another secret of the trade.”

“it feels like sinking when i’m standing in one place.”

“i want to be here.”

“i feel hope, deep in my bones.”

“tomorrow will be beautiful.”

“i’m ready for whatever comes next.”

EIGHT.

“it was like a switch was flipped.”

“i was just a kid who grew up strong enough.”

“god, that was so long ago.”

“i was little, i was weak and perfectly naive.”

“i grew up too quick.”

“now you won’t see all that i have to lose and all i’ve lost in the fight to protect it.”

“i won’t let you in, i swore never again.”

“i can’t afford, no, i refuse to be rejected.”

“i want to break these bones ‘til they’re better.”

“you were wrong.”

“my healing needed more than time.”

“when i see fragile things, helpless things, broken things, i see the familiar.”

“now i’m a broken mirror.”

“i can’t afford to let myself be blindsided.”

“i’m standing guard.”

“i’m falling apart.”

“all i want is to trust you.”

“show me how to lay my sword down.”

“here i am.”

“pry me open.”

“what do you want to know?”

“i’m just a kid who grew up scared enough.”

“here’s a map, here’s a shovel.”

“here’s my achilles’ heel.”

“i’m all in.”

“i’m at your mercy now.”

“i’m ready to begin.”

“i am strong enough to let you in.”

“for the innocent, for the vulnerable.”

“i’ll show up at the front lines with a purpose.”

“i’ll give all i have.”

“i’m shattered porcelain, glued back together again.”

“i’m invincible like i’ve never been.”

NINE.

“who am i to say what any of this means?”

“i have been sleepwalking since i was fourteen.”

“honestly, it’s easier to let myself forget.”

“i’ve been less than half myself for more than half my life.”

“wake up.”

“fall in love again.”

“there’s so much worth fighting for, you’ll see.”

“it looks like empathy to understand all sides.”

“i’m just trying to find myself through someone else’s eyes.”

“show me what to do.”

“how do i forgive myself for losing so much time?”

“roll up your sleeves.”

“remember who you are.”

“a little at a time.”

“it’s uncomfortable, but right.”

“we were born to try to see each other through.”

“to know and love ourselves and others well is the most difficult and meaningful work we’ll ever do.”

[crinkle-eyed-boo]

Thursday Snippet

I was last tagged by @disgruntledkittenface to share a snippet of my WIP. I’ve been meaning to post a snippet all week but then Louis wore shorts and tank tops and I lost my mind, and it’s now Thursday and I’m just getting around to sharing. 

ANYWAY. 

I FINALLY got Harry and Louis to FOR REAL kiss last weekend which feels like such a relief. I’m not gonna give away the farm and share the kiss but I WILL share some of the build-up to it. I hope you enjoy!!

“Thanks for tonight,” Harry says. “I haven’t had that much fun dancing since…I don’t know when.” 

“I’m glad,” Louis smiles over at him. “Dancing should always be fun. If it’s not fun, why are you doing it?” 

“Easy for you to say, superstar.” 

“What do you mean?” Louis asks, no heat or defensiveness in his voice, only curiosity. 

“Sorry, that wasn’t meant to be a drag or anything,” Harry explains, carding his fingers through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts. “I know how hard you work, Louis, no one does the kind of skills you do without hard work and lots of practice. I know that, believe me. And I know you’ve faced your own challenges. I can’t imagine what it was like for you being catapulted into the stratosphere basically right out of our apprentice year. But from my perspective you’ve always like…not that you’ve had it easy, but you made it look easy. You have this…sparkle when you dance that can’t be taught. So of course you would think dancing should always be fun. Because it’s never not been fun for you. And look, you know you’ve always been everyone’s favorite. Even when we were little kids all the teachers doted on you.” 

Louis doesn’t say anything, he just looks back at him, his brow slightly furrowed and a thoughtful expression on his handsome face. Harry can’t help but panic a little, not wanting to end the evening on a sour note.

“Or maybe the teachers doted on you because you were having fun and you were easy to love, not to mention ridiculously talented, so it was clear you were destined for greatness, even back then,” Harry babbles. “And maybe I’m full of shit and have always been jealous of the way people just gravitate to you like you’re the fucking sun or something and I wish I could be more like that, I don’t know. I just know that I don’t know the last time I thought dancing was fun and not work and I hate that because you’re right, it should be fun, it’s dancing, for fuck’s sake. Sorry, it’s late and I’m word vomiting and I’m not making any sense, am I?” 

Harry takes a deep breath to settle himself and then looks over at Louis, relieved to find no judgment on his face, just understanding and a soft smile. 

“It’s funny because I thought you were the teacher’s pet,” Louis says. “You’ve always had such perfect technique, Harry. You were the one teachers would call attention to in class, remember? ‘Look at Harry’s extension,’ or ‘Watch Harry’s arms.’ They would talk about your height and your long legs and how they made you an ideal dancer which made me nuts cause like, those were things about myself I could never change. The teachers may have doted on me, sure, but you had their respect. You always did. And look at you now. You have the whole company’s respect, you know that, right? How many principal dancers are there? Twenty? And who has the first position at the barre and sets the tone for company class every day?” 

“I do,” Harry says with pride, standing a little taller. 

“You do,” Louis affirms, nudging him gently. “You’re like the glue that keeps everyone together. No, you’re more than just glue. You’re the foundation. You’re the one that pushes us all to be better. Don’t underestimate how important that is. How important you are.” 

Warmth fills Harry’s chest as they turn on to Thompson Street. 

“Peter should have promoted you sooner,” Louis continues, kicking an empty beer can towards the curb. “He should have promoted you when I went to San Francisco. He always seemed to value flashiness over consistency which really sucks, especially for someone like you who is nothing but consistent. I’m sorry those years in the background somehow convinced you that you were just a workhorse and not an extraordinary dancer who deserves the spotlight. You’ve always sparkled, Harry, most of all to me.” 

Tagging @indiaalphawhiskey @myfineline @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @kingsofeverything @louandhazaf @absoloutenonsense @greenfeelings @nouies @allwaswell16 (even though I know you JUST posted a full fic) and @lululawrence to share anything they are working on, if they wish!

[noodle-slurp]

CONTENT WARNINGS: Nongraphic mentions of fatal, anxiety of digestion, fearplay (?), Soft vore. I am not good with content tags, lemme know if I missed any Anyway have this snippet of a day dream I have been having lately. Will I write the rest? will I add the before half? who knows!I just needed this particular part out of my system - stat. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --Steam begins to rise from the pot, savory and warm. It had been a few weeks since they had eaten anything decent, and they were looking forward to the stew finishing. They wished it’d get done sooner. Their stomach tightened and groaned, pleading with them to just ram the raw ingredients into their mouth like a feral animal - it was a challenge to summon up the will to ignore it. Distraction comes in the form of a sense of being watched. They squint past the flames into the darkness, heart racing in their ears. They tell themselves it’s nothing - that they imagined it, that they’re just being paranoid, but they know there’s things out there in the shadows, monsters hiding just beyound where the light reaches. Ok, maybe Monster(s) as in multiple, was a stretch, but they knew of at least one that prowled these woods, and each night they spent here, was a night they wondered if he’d find them. They weren’t sure how they felt on that prospect - sure, his main diet consisted of humans, but their initial meeting had gone... as well as it could have gone, really. They’d lived, at least. Despite his words upon their last departure, they wondered, if maybe, just maybe, things could go well a second time....It’s not like they had anything else to hope for. They didn’t know where else to go anymore... That itch of being watched becomes the sense of being hunted. Their skin crawls and they fight to steady their breathing as Flight kicks in. They bounce their leg, but don’t move. “Can I finish my soup at least?” they ask, not entirely sure anyone was there at all. There is a rustling - followed by slow, heavy steps that stop beside them. They look up, green eyes catching on the mans legs. They tilt their head until their eyes meet with the giants, fierce and gleaming in the firelight. He frowns down at them, seeming irritated.  “Do you remember what I told you would happen if you came back here?” he asks gruffly. They look away, feeling guilty and disappointed. They knew where this was heading. “That you’d eat me.” “That I’d eat you.” he echoes, eyes narrowing hungrily. He seems equally disappointed. Their insides twist making them feel sick. They stare at the steaming pot of stew, gnawing on those words. They had hoped this would go differently, they didn’t know why they thought that, they just hoped, maybe if they believed it hard enough, it would be so. “Do you have to?” they ask, not hopeful. There’s a scoff from above, he probably rolled his eyes. “Did you have to set camp in these woods? If you didn’t want me to eat you, you shouldn’t have come.” He had a point. They had options, but these woods were familiar to them, home long before he made it his territory. Part of them simply hadn’t wanted to leave. I mean, it was here they found him, a giant, the first sign of there being more in life than they’d known their entire life. A sign that there was magic hidden away - waiting to be found again. They look up as a clawed hand reaches for them. “Wait.” They ask, heart leaping into their throat as they stand and back up a few feet. They know better than to run from a predator - but the urge is hard to fight. “Can I ask for a favor?” “You can ask.” he drawls, fingers brushing past them as they stumble backwards more. “Can’t promise I’ll grant it.” “Can I-” they swallow the panic rising in their throat as he reaches for them again. “Can I at least finish my soup?” “Why bother?” he replies coldly, swiping them into his grasp. Dizziness washes over them as they’re lifted from the ground, feeling weightless and nauseous.  “I don’t want to die hungry.” they plead, looking up into those gleaming eyes. They reminded them of a cats, bright and menacing . “And I don’t want to wait.” he responds bluntly. “Cmon.” they plead with a nervous smile. “I’d be more filling....Like a ...a stuffed chicken. Probably taste better, too...” They look away, unable to hold his gaze as they speak. They sense bile creeping up their throat. They aren’t sure they could eat even if they tried at this point. he makes a humming noise, as if thinking, though, they know he already has an answer. “Can you...at least make it quick?” they ask before he can reply, giving up their initial request. “I’ll think about it.” he huffs before dragging his tongue across their face. They brace their feet against the giants collar bone, trying to push away from his mouth.  “please.” they whine, much to their own shame. He merely huffs hot, amused breath into their face before pulling them past jagged fangs and towards his throat. They squirm against his tongue attempting to squiggle back the way they came- they go still as his fangs settle heavily on their shoulders and spine. They wordlessly pray to any god that will listen that he will simply keep pressing down until they snap in half. Unfortunately, the pressure eases, releasing them just so his tongue can press them into his pallet, squeezing the air from their lungs and leaving their hands scrabbling against the slick muscle in any attempt to find a better position. There’s a deafening rumble around them, gravity shifting and pulling them into a pocket of air that they inhale eagerly - and immediately choke on. They open their eyes to see only darkness before them. There’s another rumble - and they are slipping down his throat as he tilts his head back to swallow again. It’s an uncomfortable and suffocating descent. There is a thrumming in their ears, a pulsing in their body, it takes them a moment to realize it’s a mixture of their own blood racing through them, and the beating of the giants heart around them. They’re almost grateful when they’re pushed into his stomach. They cough and wheeze as they take deep lungfuls of the rancid air. Each breath burns with scalding heat all the way down.Their head spins, a constant feeling of falling weighing on them as they pulled themselves into a more comfortable position. Well, as comfortable as being in a cramped gut could be, they barely had the space to move. There is a pressure above them, one that moves down their head and over their shoulders - the giant rubbing his stomach. They hear him catching his breath, and the stomach tightens around them as he settles himself into a sit, before relaxing as he leans back with a content grunt.  They feel sick with dread, fearful of the pain of dying that is soon to kick in any moment. They wonder, grimly, how long it will take - how long they’ll be conscious for it....They find some relief in the void tugging at their mind, consciousness quickly slipping away as the organ squeezed and groaned around them. It isn’t long before the darkness becomes soft and weightless, feathery light and peaceful, dragging them down into slumber. ---- The giant keeps a heavy hand over his full belly, content with the fullness his prey had given him, but somehow...dissatisfied still. He presses his back into the tree and looks over the small camp, now that he bothered to look, it was set up strangely, as if they had planned to stay here longer than a few days. Blankets and books spilled out of the tent and various trinkets sat on rocks and logs they had set up as stands around the fire. He sniffs and furrows his brows - they’d been out here for at least a month. How they’d gone unnoticed so long was beyond him. Perhaps...it was because this was the first night they had chosen to cook something? It had definitely been the smell of the stew that brought him here...But in that case, what had they been eating all this time? He huffs, annoyed with himself. Why did it matter to him? He could feel the human shift in his guts and go still.Disappointing, and yet, somehow a relief. He was certain they had passed out. Why did he care? He tips his head back to gaze at the stars, troubled and annoyed with himself. Was he really considering this? Humans were food - plain and simple.... Even ones that been weird and helped him when he had gotten injured - and especially the ones that asked too many questions. What if he had been right? What if this one was just pretending to be nice to get something from him? What if they were using him? What if - what if...they were just that foolish...? He frowns at himself and he is drawn out of his thoughts by a loud grumble from his middle, his stomach preparing itself to begin digestion. He ponders the bump, something he hadn’t really bothered to do before. He wonders what it must be like in there - and he wonders how fast it all happens - he’s never bothered to find out - as he usually sleeps after a hunt. He wonders if it will be unpleasant for them - if they’ll wake during it....he tries to imagine what it’d be like to see inside himself and watch it all happen....and he realizes the feeling eating away at him...is guilt. He runs a hand down his face and lets out a frustrated grunt. he looks back up to the stars. “just this once” he says to them before pulling himself forward onto his knees  “Just this one...” He places his hands carefully, to avoid damaging anything in the camp, and tightens his core. It feels wrong - foreign, and he swallows them back down the first try he makes. It’s surprisingly difficult to bring the prey back up, his body telling him not to, even when he very much wants to - needs to, but eventually, they are deposited on the ground in front of him, soaking wet and miserable, but alive and unharmed. He worries for a moment, that they might have suffocated in there, that they had passed away already, but a ragged wheeze leaves their lungs before they choke and begin to cough. They look almost funny like this, gasping and inhaling air like a fish out of water. He notes the lightness in his chest, and despite his shame, he finds relief in their well-being. They struggle to their hands and knees, coughing and wheezing until they finally catch their breath - and then, with a confused groan, they pass out once more. The giant huffs and rolls his eyes. Humans were such fragile creatures. He decides to stay with them until the morning, ensuring nothing else comes to grab them while they slept.

[finniestoncrane]

I've been binge reading your riddler stuff and maybe it's my fever but I feel sappy. Is it ok to ask for capullo!( that's it right?) riddler comforting a fem reader and letting her know he doesn't just like her physically? Sorry if it's vague I've got super brain fog rn but if you choose to write I recommend going hog wild! Have fun with it pls!

Aftercare

Capullo!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2.1k not vague at all, i get you completely!! and i knew exactly what i wanted to do with this request, so i hope it's what you were looking for! also i hope you get/got better, i'm sorry it took me a while to get this out but bless your lil fevery soul for sending this prompt my way 💚 this is looooong i'm so sorry and it's pretty dialogue heavy which...yeah it is what it is ;-; my posts about this idiot: consistent flops me anyway: i am feeding myself and the capull-hos, i will write 2k words anyway request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi minors DNI!! 🔞 cw for nsfw stuff: language, mentions of sex, angst, suggestive themes, sort of mean eddie, some fluff believe it or not

5.37am.

The light from the alarm clock was soft, the rising sun complimenting the warmth as it shone through your curtains. It was all so incredibly romantic and peaceful, or at least it would have been, if you hadn’t spent the better part of the night before and this most recent half hour being fucked within an inch of your life, Edward rutting like a feral animal into you, onto you, beside you.

He was getting dressed by the bed, lime green suit an affront to your vision in the morning, shirt unbuttoned underneath it, saving that for last. It was only as he slipped his shoes on that you put two and two together, checking the clock again and propping yourself up on your elbow, watching him smooth his hair down and grab his hat from the floor.

“Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, got to.”

“Oh…can’t you stay? Even just for a little while?”

“Uhh…how long for?”

“Well, it’s only 5am.”

“Ok, and what would we do?”

You stared at him in confusion, met only with a blank gaze with a hint of impatience knitted across his brow.

“I thought we could have breakfast together?”

It seemed like such a simple request, 30 minutes to make you both something to eat. But it was met with a scoff and a distinctly mean smile.

“No can do, got better things to be doing.”

Finally buttoning up his shirt, he leant over you in the bed. For the briefest of moments, you were so sure that he was going to kiss you. Soft and gentle on your lips, caring and sweet on your forehead. But instead, he teased back the sheets, exposing your breasts to the room, before winking at you.

“Don’t get dressed, just wait for me to come back whenever I’m done, exactly like that!”

Laying flat on the bed, staring wistfully into the ceiling, you considered your next move.

There was something that kept you coming back for more, despite literally every other identifiable thing about Edward Nygma. His brash personality, perpetual and insistent over-confidence, the way he groped and grabbed, rutted and fucked like a man who had never known of the word ‘gentle’. And those were the qualities you found redeeming. There were no words to describe how you felt about him, deep down. At one point, you had thought the gut-wrenching sadness every time he left after you had sex was a hint that you had developed a bit of a crush on him, a desire to be with him even when you weren’t just satisfying a carnal urge. But recently, it had become more obvious that it was a desperate plea for acknowledgement of you, for him to pay attention to you outside of the clumsy and erratic schedule to which he fucked you.

And he couldn’t even stay behind for breakfast. You weren’t asking for him to confess his undying love. You weren’t even asking him to look you in the eye and make sure you came during sex. Breakfast. That was it. And he had “better things to do”.

So when he texted that afternoon, asking to come over in the evening, you ignored it. It was interesting to note that when the message came in, you darted to your phone at the little chime. And though initially you had been consumed by excitement at the thought of him getting in touch with you, a Pavlov’s whore reaction as you felt your arousal increase at the thought of him, you tossed your phone down without replying. If you were being honest, you were proud of yourself. Cold turkey was tough, and yet here you were, starting the period of radio silence you were willing to keep up indefinitely.

It wasn’t as though this had come out of the blue. You’d had multiple conversations in the past about what you were to each other, what this was. Countless times you had tried to even be friends with benefits, but he wasn’t interested in knowing you outside of coming and cumming and going. So surely, if he listened to anything you said beyond “harder, faster, more”, it wouldn’t come as a shock to him that you were completely done.

But an hour later, another text came in.

“You still asleep? Do a number on ya, did I? 😉 Can I come over later?”

And again, you ignored it. And the six others that came in quick succession at around 6pm.

“Hey, let me know if you’re busy or if I can come and rock your world again!”

“Don’t make me start sending riddles. I know how much you hate that.”

“Come on…if you’re not gonna text back at least send through something nasty 😉”

“I could get food if you want? On the way?”

“Starting to get annoyed baby. I’m not gonna hang around and wait for you much longer…”

“Ok…getting a bit concerned that I might have to find another fuck buddy…”

That last one, a hint of worry in it, made you even madder. If he really was concerned, why couldn’t he take it seriously? A message came in from another number, a mutual acquaintance.

“Hello, this is a weird question (and apologies if the police are reading this) but are you dead?”

Edward had sent his lackeys to investigate for him.

“Hey! I’m great, thanks. No police, no death. Need me to send a pic with today’s paper as proof?”

Nothing in return. And as a final nail in the coffin, you turned your phone off. You had dinner, watched some tv, drowning out any thoughts you had about Ed by periodically reminding yourself that your vibrator was right there in the drawer under the bed, and not only did it finish the job right, it would still be there after you came.

Interrupting your little pity party, though, there was a knock at your door. Peering out the peephole, you could see Ed, standing side on, arm leaning on the door. You opened it slightly, startling him, his body falling into the door with a pathetic little yelp.

“Yes?”

He grinned at you, his arm swooping from behind his back, one bag of some kind of food and a bouquet of flowers. He tilted his chin up and to the side slightly, staring you down and raising his eyebrows.

“Well?”

“What the fuck is this?”

He looked like a told off child.

“I dunno. I thought you were mad at me, so I did what people do when someone is mad at them.” He thrust the gifts forward, eventually bringing them back down to his side when it became obvious that you weren’t going to unfold your arms to take them.

“Do you even know what you’re apologising for?”

He let out a short, sharp laugh.

“Ok, well first of all, I’m not even apologising. So I don’t know where you got that idea.”

You closed the door on him, but he managed to kick his foot in the gap.

“Nonono wait!”

You held it open, looking up at him, the most unamused expression you could muster, desperately trying to hide the raw emotion threatening to expose itself behind your eyes.

“I just want a second, then I can leave if you want me to. Or I…can come in…?” He smirked, letting it fade quickly as he realised now was not the time.

“Ed, there’s professionals who can give you what you want. This isn’t fun for me anymore.” You moved back inside, attempting to close the door again, but his palms pushed it back lightly.

“Wait, wait. Did you actually want me to stay this morning? I just thought that’s what women said after sex…no?”

You pushed past the initial gut reaction, which was to question him on which other women he was claiming to have ever been with, but chose to stay on track with your rehearsed points.

“No, it’s not. But it was stupid of me to think you were interested in anything, or anyone, apart from you and your own selfish needs. Goodbye, Ed.”

The door closed with a slam, but he was persistant.

“Hey! You knew what you were getting into. I was very clear. You know who I am!”

“Yeah, most intelligent man in Gotham. Which I thought might mean you’d have more sense than to just leave after you’ve cum, like I’m absolutely nothing to you.”

“What made you think you were ever going to be something?”

It was harsh, hurtful. The silence after it rang out, and you didn’t care whether he meant it or not. He’d still said it. Slumping down against the door, stopping on the floor, tears fell copiously from your eyes as you accepted the realisation that Ed really didn’t care about you. Never had, and never had any intentions of doing so in the future either. You’re sat there for about five minutes, sobbing against the door, not very mindful of the noise you were making, as you were sure Ed would have left by now. But he spoke again, still outside.

“Please…can you let me in?”

“Go away, Ed.”

“Aw come on! I cam all the way over here with…things for you.”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

“Look, I’m the Riddler, babe. I’ll find another way in somehow, and then you’ll be really pissed at me. I’ll sit out here all night if I have to. I’ll get comfortable now, actually. How about a few riddles? What is red, white and-”

You cut him short, mercifully, opening the door and staring at him, tears wiped hastily away, but eyes still watery, cheeks reddened by the wet tracks. He gestured with his ‘gifts’ again.

“Food’s probably cold by now.”

“I already ate anyway.”

“Right. Can I come in though?”

“Why would you want to? I’m not going to fuck you.”

“That’s fine, actually.”

With your arms folded tight across your chest, you shot him a look of genuine disbelief. He chuckled lightly, holding his palms up.

“I’m serious. I want…” he took a deep breath in, almost pained expression written across his face “…I want to apologise.”

As you held the door open wider for him, he walked timidly inside, letting his palm find your forearm, gripping it once before going inside and sitting down on the sofa, sighing when you joined him, as though he were worried you might stand and berate him, or sit on the armchair, distanced.

“Ok, this isn’t very easy for me.”

“What? Being human?”

“Actually, yes. I’m an outsider, I operate on the fringes of-”

“Ed.”

“Right, right, sorry. I just mean…beyond having to trust someone to not stab me in the back or shoot me in the face, I don’t have to interact or offer myself up to anyone. That’s a lot of vulnerability.”

His words made sense to you, and as the tough exterior you had spent all evening, and most of the past week trying to build up crumbled away, you realised you weren’t that upset about allowing yourself listen to him, offering him your hand, which he took tentatively, eyes avoiding your gaze, but body facing towards yours, open and unguarded.

“I need to put distance between us, because…” as he hesitated, unusually stuck for words, he let his thumb sweep back and forth over the back of your hand, attempting to either soothe you or himself “…I’m scared of how I feel about you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Rude.” He smiled at you, catching your eyeline and looking away quickly. Feeling guilty, you shuffled closer to him, putting your head on his shoulder, hand on his chest, letting your fingers trail up and down. In a move entirely unlike him, he lifted his arm, enclosing it around your shoulder, pulling you closer, his head tilted over the back of the sofa, eyes shut and breath shallow as he continued.

“I don’t feel anything about anyone, except myself. And now you. And before you get excited, I don’t know what to label those feelings as, I certainly wouldn’t get excited about them. I just know that I…care what you think about me and I am willing to…work on being…better.”

It was as good as it was going to get, but even this small gesture of humanity, a display of weakness that you could potentially hold against him, if you were so inclined, displayed his trust and truth.

“So if you’re willing to put up with me, I’m willing to stay.”

“Huh…when you put it that way, it might have been a blessing that you were so quick to leave.”

He was on you, arms around you on the sofa, lips meeting amidst the giggles you both elicited.

[am-i-interrupting]

Can’t Go Back

Chapter One

Prologue

Tags: 2.4k words, eventual silco x reader, gn!reader, sex worker!reader, bisexual!reader, canonical character death

Isabela was a favorite. She was a favorite because she was predictable and she was easy to please and just fun to be around.

She came in once a month to share a smoke, maybe make out in your underwear before she focused on you. She wasn’t one of those that you had to be wary of because they pushed boundaries. No, she focused on you and what you wanted and she asked and she was good.

She let you relax. She would buy the whole night. She mostly just spoke about the going ons. She was your main source of gossip and you were her single consistent as she often hopped around jobs.

She was straddling you now with your hands held above your head. A blunt was placed between her lips. She switched both of your wrists to be held in one hand while she used the other to move her blunt from her mouth. She leaned down and sealed her lips with yours, exhaling into your mouth as you inhaled. She moved back to her sitting position.

She pressed your wrists into the cushions and squeezed them before she let go. She trailed her fingertips down your arm and to your chest. She reached for an ashtray and tipped off the growing end of her blunt.

“And then he had the nerve to think that I would just let him do that. Can you believe it?” she asked in her silky smooth voice.

“The audacity of some people,” you said.

She gave a small snort of laughter. Her hand went to your stomach. Her blunt nails curled against the skin causing it to tingle. She smiled, satisfied, when she saw your stomach muscles clench at the action.

“So, I told him—“

“Hey! You can’t go back there!” Varrick yelled causing both of your heads to snap towards the closed curtain.

Suddenly it opened and instead of seeing some hulking figure like you may have expected, you saw someone small, someone you knew, someone scared.

“Ekko,” you said softly, as you guided Isabela off you and tried to button your shirt, “what’s wrong?”

He looked at you for a moment, panting. That’s when you noticed the dried tears. That’s when new ones started to streak the old ones’ paths.

“Benzo,” he said, his lip starting to quiver. Your hand hovered above his shoulder. “They killed Benzo—“ your blood went cold— “and they took Vander.”

He buried his face in the fabric of your shirt. Shellshocked, you placed a hand on his head. Anger now creeping in, you asked, “Who?”

“I— I don’t know,” he said, voice muffled.

Knowing the kid and his knack for following things even when he shouldn’t, you asked him a different question, “Where’d they take him?”

He told you as you put on your shoes. You squeezed his shoulder and kissed his forehead. “Stay with Varrick, okay?” He nodded.

Then you ran. An adrenaline you hadn’t had in a very long time pumped through your veins.

Vander was in trouble. When was the last time Vander had been in trouble? In trouble that he couldn’t handle? Benzo was dead? No. You didn’t want to think about that. It would do you no good now. You had a mission right now. No side thoughts.

You had been running for maybe five minutes when an explosion of blue came from the direction you were headed. Your heart stopped but you still ran.

It took longer than you’d like to get there. By then it was too late. You saw him, Vander, on the ground unmoving.

Still, you called his name and ran to him. His chest didn’t move. His eyes were unblinking. You checked for a pulse anyway. Nothing.

You were stubborn. You wouldn’t give up that easily. You started doing compressions on his chest. His purple veined, too large chest. (What happened?)

You’d just placed your hands on it when you saw the googles, Claggor’s googles. You felt nauseous. Without a second thought, you abandoned Vander. The kids were more important.

“Claggor,” you called out. “Claggor!”

You reached for the blood splattered googles and that’s when you saw the arm. “Mylo?”

Oh heavens. Oh no. What happened?

Breathing beginning to go uneven, you started moving the rubble. You strained as you pushed but you’d worked with rock before. You pushed it off the body, while calling out the boys’ names. You barely glanced down at the mess of blood, guts, gore and hair the same shade as Mylo’s before your stomach rolled.

You turned your head as what you’d eaten that day expelled through your mouth.

They were kids. Kids! Barely teenagers but kids nonetheless. And they were.

Heaving and wiping your mouth you saw the monkey head. You weren’t naive enough to think that it couldn’t get worse but regardless you went still before you went frantic.

“Powder! Vi!” you yelled at the top of your lungs as people finally gathered, deeming the danger gone. “Violet! Powder!”

You ran into the rubble of the building. You ran all throughout the Undercity screaming their names. You needed to know what happened to them. Be it good, be it bad. You had to know. For your sanity. You screamed until your voice went out.

You leaned against a building. The adrenaline long gone and your energy depleted. You couldn’t cry any more tears. You didn’t have anything in your stomach. Your muscles ached. Your feet were sore.

“Vi. Powder,” you said in a voice so quiet it might as well not exist.

You stayed there for a minute and then two and then three and then four and then you couldn’t count.

You righted yourself and went back to the brothel. You were let in and you went to Babette’s office. Ekko sat restless in a chair with Varrick guarding him. He looked up at you, a small glimmer of hope in his eyes very quickly smothered.

“Can you come here for a minute?” you asked him, holding out your arms.

He numbly got up and walked over to you. He placed his head on your shoulder. His arms stayed limp by his side as you wrapped yours around him.

“Did any of them make it?” he asked in a weak voice.

You held him tighter. “I couldn’t find Vi or Powder,” you told him.

In a quick motion he wrapped his arms around you and started sobbing. “I’m sorry,” he choked out and your heart tightened.

“It’s not your fault,” you told him.

You already had time for your tears. It was time for his. You held him closer.

It’d been four months. Four months of fighting. Four months of pain. Four months of losing. Four months since you lost.

You were angry. You were hurt. Maybe that made you a little reckless because when you heard word that Silco had acquired some blue haired girl, you stilled.

“What?” you asked in a slow, drawn out, hard tone.

“Someone said they saw a kid at the Last Drop. Blue hair, small, looked like one of Vander’s kids.”

You tightened your grip on the schedule you were supposed to be studying.

Babette noticed the look. “We don’t know it’s her,” she said softly. “We have to act rashly if we stand a chance. Without Vander—“

You’d already grabbed your gun and were out the door. You made a beeline towards the Drop. No one was stupid enough to try and stop you. That was until you got to the door and some kid stationed outside it tried to.

He wasn’t a kid. Maybe early twenties but he was as stupid as one if he thought he could get you to stop your trek. All it took was a hand to the mouth and another banging his head into the side of the building several times and he was out.

You threw open the door and it was mostly empty. Only a few people inside, none of them who you wanted to see. Your eyes narrowed in on Sevika.

Traitor. Somehow you weren’t surprised.

“Where is she?” you asked, voice booming in the muted sound of music and conversation.

Sevika looked your way. A scowl formed on her face as she moved to stand. She placed her cigar onto an ashtray as she strode over.

“Where is who?” she asked.

“You know damn well I’m not here for Silco right now,” you said. “Powder. Who else would I be talking about? Word gets around that there’s a blue haired girl in Silco’s company and you don’t think I’m gonna come around asking questions? You should be smarter than that by now.”

“Well, she’s not here,” she said. “I don’t know where she is and if I did, I wouldn’t tell you just to watch the look on your face when you realize just how out of control you’ve gotten. It was about time you got knocked down a few pegs.”

You stepped closer to her and gestured to the metal that was now attached to her skin with your gun. “Last time I saw you, you had more digits and an arm. You want to lose the ones you’ve got left because I’m pissed off and you’ve hit a pretty tempting face.”

Sevika grinned and shook her head. She moved to a defensive position and you backed away, gun at the ready to fire. Your finger was just about to squeeze the trigger too. Of course, that was when footsteps came from above.

“Well, well,” a familiar voice said, “when I heard visitors I wasn’t expecting such a pleasant surprise.”

You didn’t take your eyes off Sevika. You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

“Where is she? Where’s Powder?” you asked.

A sigh and, “You can go back to your card games now, Sevika. I’d like to have a chat with this one.”

Sevika’s position dropped for a moment. She looked like she was going to question but decided against it. She didn’t take her eyes off you as she sat down.

“Come along, we have much to discuss,” he said.

You risked a glance where he stood. Well, he walked now. His back to you. You gave a grunt of annoyance before you started to back up to where he was, gun still pointed at Sevika. You didn’t walk forward until you got to the stairs and even then you didn’t turn until Sevika was out of your line of sight.

“Where is she, Silco?” you asked.

“I don’t remember you being so brash,” he said before he opened the door to what was now his office. He beckoned you inside.

“You didn’t kidnap one of my kids last time we spoke,” you said as you brushed past him, knocking his shoulder just because you could.

Silco seemed almost genuinely offended at your words. “I didn’t kidnap her.”

“So you admit she’s here?”

The door closed behind him. “She came willingly.”

You turned to him, refusing to look him in the eye or at his face. Instead you focused on the hand that shoved him against the wall.

“She’s a kid and you killed not only her caretaker but her friends. Of course she went with the first person that came near her,” you said, pressing the barrel of your gun to his chin.

“I think we’ve come to a bit of a misunderstanding,” Silco said. “It seems you don’t have all the pieces.”

“No? Seems like a pretty clear picture to me,” you replied.

“Yes, well, lineart seems to give you an idea but it’s the colors that make the meanings clear,” he said. “I may have killed Vander but I didn’t kill those kids.”

“Enlighten me.”

“There was an explosion. I lost several of my people to it. Nearly lost myself. That’s what killed those kids,” he said.

That idea. Why did that idea still hurt you? Why did the thought of him dying still hurt? Why did it make you panic? It’d been almost a decade since you last saw him, even longer since you’d last had a conversation. Why did that idea make you freeze?

He took advantage of your stupor and grabbed your hand. He pried your fingers off the gun. You could hear the click as the safety was turned on.

“Look at me,” he said. You didn’t move. “Look at me,” this time he used his hand to tilt your head upward.

You had no choice but to look at him, at the scars, at the eye, at what Vander had done all those years ago.

“Am I lying to you?” he asked.

You jerked your head out of his hand and took several steps away from him. Once again, the gun was pointed at him.

“You killed Vander,” you elected to say.

“And he tried to kill me. I’d say the score is settled,” he said. “Go ahead, pull the trigger if you wish but you won’t kill me. I know you.”

“People change,” you said. “You certainly did.”

“Maybe but you want to know where the girl is, right?” he asked. “Sounds like you may need me more than you think.”

“I—“

“There’s also a different matter of fact,” he said as he took a step forward and tapped the gun, “the safety’s still on.”

He turned and left you half stuttering and half fuming as he opened the door of his office. He left, leaving you able to do nothing but follow.

Eventually he led you to a small bedroom. A bed was pressed on the corner, markings were all over the walls, but most notably there was a girl sitting in a chair with a book in her lap. She was young, too young for the noticeable bags under her eyes. Her hair was blue and braided. Her eyes were a similar color. She had freckles on her round face, doting across her nose. She looked up.

She said your name softly and you knew that voice. Tears began to prickle your eyes. Immediately all your defenses crumbled.

“Powder,” you said softly.

She ran over to you, her book falling to the ground, as she wrapped her arms around your torso and almost toppled you over from the sheer force of her run to you. You held her close. She nuzzled into your chest.

“I was so worried about you,” you told her. She shook in your hold.