#but forget that those exist ONLY in your head and your own fictions with said characters huh!

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

This is totally not in reference to anything anyone has posted, but man imagine thinking you know someone's characters better than the person themself. Imagine if you were just vibing with your literal OCs who you made, and some random person comes up to you and goes "UMMMM ACTUALLY your OCs would NEVER act like that because I think they'd act like THIS!" and then they get mad at YOU for not going "oh you're so right, how could I forget I put you in charge of MY OCs?".

Just a little observation, y'know?

[updownlately]

you said, ‘forever’ (and i almost bought it)

| steph catley x reader | angst | 0.9k | a/n: okay so i feel like i need to put the warning that this is purely fiction here. i've got nothing against any of the people mentioned in this fic lol. in fact i love them all. but anyways, i read @reminiscingtonight's fic australia a few days ago and it just hasn't left my mind (it's a masterpiece if you ask me). and so it prompted this idea :) hopefully this is decent bc i wrote it all at 3am but yeah, happy reading amigos! 🫶

~~~

You don’t know why you did this to yourself. 

You really don’t.

All you know is that your stomach’s dropping six feet under and you have no one but yourself to blame.

Oddly enough, you shouldn’t even be feeling this.

You shouldn’t be feeling your heart break into two, chest tightening impossibly as your stomach knots and your throat closes up. 

The team’s just won the derby and you should feel elated. You should be celebrating like a maniac, probably joining Katie and Beth as they run around the field celebrating with the crowd. 

You should be joining Kyra as she goes around and sprays people with her water bottle.

You should be doing the victory lap with Viv and Cloe.

What you shouldn’t be doing is just looking towards the crowd by the bench- the friends and family section. 

You shouldn’t be staring at Steph, your hands pressed tightly to your sides in a somewhat successful attempt to hide how much they’re shaking.

You also probably shouldn’t be swallowing hard, your breath shaky as thoughts of what if run endlessly through your mind.

You want to tear your eyes away, forget the way she immediately ran to the stands to wrap her arms around someone that wasn’t you.

You want to ignore the way her hold around him is so easy, so fitting, like it was meant to be.

You desperately want to forget that she ever existed to you as anything more than a teammate

But you can’t find it in yourself to, instead choosing to let yourself suffer, lump in your throat getting bigger with each passing second.

You hate that it’s those three words that come to your mind when you see them together - ‘meant to be’- the words like poison on your tongue.

Jaw clenching as you feel your eyes burn, cheeks colouring as you anger begins to course through you, you will yourself to look away, head turning to the side as you try and focus on Victoria chasing Kyra around with her own bottle

The image of her in another’s embrace is seared into your mind though, haunting you even as you’re turned away.

There’s still a bitter taste in your mouth.

You know it’s childish, but you hate that the three words are being used for someone that isn’t you and her. 

You hate that it’s what your mind went to.

It used to be you. 

You two were meant to be. 

It’s what she said to you years ago, when the two of you were lying in your shared bedroom back in Portland. 

Back when the world felt right, with her in your arms, her little huffs of laughter at your stupid jokes filling the otherwise silent night. 

Back when love felt right- when it felt like a hug, a warm blanket tucking you in, like the warm sunshine on a cold winter night.

When love felt anything but like this- like the taste of blood from the way you were biting your cheek in an attempt to distract yourself from the cruel pain in your chest. 

Like anything but the feeling of your nails digging into your palm as you tried to direct your focus to the pitch, to the fans, to the team- anywhere really- anywhere but towards the blonde you once called yours. 

You two were meant to be, she’d said. 

Whispered into the inches of space between you as she’d looked in your eyes, moonlight making her look more angelic than ever, her hands intertwining with yours as she’d tucked herself into your side.

She’d promised you forever that night, a gentle kiss sealing the words.

‘Whatever happens, it’s you and me.’

All that only to go and break your heart months later, Arsenal contract signed easily, a shitty letter apologizing for leaving- a letter you now kept shoved in a cardboard box in the back of your closet, along with all of the other mementos from your three years together.

You two were forever, she’d sworn.

And yet, here you were, head thrown back, eyes pointing at the sky as you willed for the tears in your eyes to not fall. 

Shaking your head as you took a shuddering breath, you brought the bottom hem of your jersey to cover your face, covertly wiping the single tear that escaped you.

How was it that you’d won today and yet somehow all that you could feel was the sickening feeling of your stomach turning? 

How was it that all you could think about was what you used to have, mind wrapping around the fact that at the end of the day, win or lose against the blues, you’d already lost something greater than any derby would ever be.

Running a hand over your face, you did your best to plaster a fake smile on your face, betraying the way you wanted to curl up into a ball and just comfort your shattered heart. 

Swallowing your emotions down, you put your absolute focus on making sure you didn’t look behind you- didn’t let your heart break again.

Instead, walking up to Lia and Noelle, you let yourself fall into step with them as pieces of your broken heart trailed behind you on the pitch. 

‘Maybe’, you concluded bitterly, ‘maybe this ‘falling in love’ thing just wasn’t meant for you.’

[paingoes]

Rubies

Ungrateful

(Content: living weapon whumpee, illness, self loathing, conditioning, past abuse, implied child abuse, caretaker new master?)

He was starting to even out. Delta no longer felt the need to sleep all day, nor did he feel like he might lapse back into sickness. Apollo and Kitty gave him the space he needed, but he still saw them often enough. Their conversations were very limited. Delta still had trouble forcing himself to speak, so scared of triggering the wrong reaction. But so far they had been nothing but patient. This too felt strange and new.

When all their exchanges had been through a screen, it had been much easier to manage. They existed to him mostly in concept alone. Even when they’d sent videos, they still felt fictitious. He had understood them more as characters from a book than he did as real people. 

That same attitude was not sustainable in a three dimensional space. Those two were flesh and blood. Even with the new collar, Delta’s idle mode powers were higher than they had been in years. As ever, it was concerned with forms. It felt out the shape of the space around him with small pulses throughout the day. He could feel their hearts beating in their chest, the minutiae of their movements. 

Real people presented complications that fictional ones did not. A very, very old voice in his head already dictated how he was meant to feel about them.

They risked everything for you and you didn’t even say thank you. All you’ve done is hide out in your room and ignore them when they speak to you. You are ungrateful. You are disrespectful. It is an unacceptable way to act around your superiors. You should be on your knees. You should be begging for forgiveness for what you’ve done.

He did not know whose voice it was, but it sounded ancient. It sounded like it had come all the way from genesis. He wondered whether it had been there all along. Maybe he just hadn’t been able to make it out clearly before. Right now, without work to distract him, it had grown impossibly loud.

Ungrateful, venomous thing. Did you forget what you are? Did you forget who you belong to? Don’t you dare try to speak. You are an object. I don’t ever want to see you acting like that again. You are not a person. Get down. You do not exist for any reason but to serve your superiors’ needs. You will speak when you are spoken to and nothing more. You will obey their orders and do nothing else. If you forget your place, I will happily remind you of it.

Delta pulled the pillow over his head. The barrage was more or less continuous. Something about being in a new environment must have triggered it. He had already internalized most of what the voice said a long time ago. He knew that. But the constant reminders of his own ingratitude still made him feel awful. He knew it wasn’t right for him to be hiding out like this. He was scared and he was exhausted, but it wasn’t an excuse. He’d been trained better than that. He exhaled, rising up from the bed. He’d put it off long enough.

He found Apollo first. He’d been standing in the side room right by the kitchen. It had been his mother’s studio at one point, now it was just a space with good lighting and a usable surface. He’d been trying to clean it out when Delta walked in.

“Oh! Hi!” Apollo was pleasantly surprised to see him emerge from his room. The soft fabric of his poncho swayed around him when he moved. Little glimpses of golden jewelry were just visible in between the curls of his red hair. He gazed warmly at Delta, his eyes betraying nothing.

This was so fucking difficult. The easygoing way they acted around him only made him feel worse about his own indiscretions. It would have been better if they were angry; he’d have known what to do with that. The procedure was mostly the same, though.

Delta knelt down on the floor in front of him, ignoring the protest from his ribs. He bowed his head, stealing only a small glance upwards. Apollo’s expression was marked with concern. That was fine. It didn’t deter him.

“Thank you.” Delta’s voice was soft, but it was still the clearest Apollo had ever heard him speak aloud. “I didn’t say it yet. I’m sorry. Thank you.”

Less was more. He wasn’t going to start rambling, even if he thought he was capable of it. He’d only say more if Apollo wanted him to, if he gave him permission to. Otherwise, he hoped his body language would speak for itself. 

Apollo looked really, really upset. He crossed the distance between them. Delta cringed back at the rapid movement, sure he was about to be hurt. But Apollo knelt down, pretty abruptly interrupting what Delta had been trying to convey. He reflexively flinched as Apollo took his shoulders, shaking him gently, “It’s okay. Of course. You don’t have to do that. I’m glad you’re okay, alright? But you don’t have to. It’s not like that.”

Delta stared back at him unblinkingly. Apollo seemed to gather himself, releasing his grip. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have touched you. You can stand up though. Don’t mention it.”

He offered a hand for Delta to rise. Though confused and self-conscious, he accepted. 

===========

He tried again with Kitty. She didn’t return to the house until later in the night. Delta waited until Apollo had gone to bed, not wanting to upset him any further. Kitty was collapsed against the couch as if she’d been running around all day. Her ears perked up as Delta approached.

“Hey! You’re awake!” She smiled cheerfully, kind of goofily. 

Delta wrung his hands, more nervous on this attempt than he had been for the previous. He knelt. The carpet of the living room was much softer than the hardwood of the study. Kitty tilted her head in confusion.

“Thank you for saving me.” His voice sank a little as the shame seeped into his words, “I’ve been acting ungrateful. I’m so sorry. Thank you.”

“Aw. It’s no problem, bud.” Kitty frowned a little as she leaned forward. “Do you wanna sit on the couch?”

Delta hesitated. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been allowed furniture in general; he’d had his own room. It was specifically that he was not allowed on furniture with other people. It gave the wrong idea; he was never supposed to be at their level.

“No, miss,” he responded. It was too much for one night.

“Okay.” Kitty shrugged. “Floor time, then.”

She slid down onto the carpet with him. He blinked in surprise. Very casually, she switched on the screen on the far wall, untangling her controller from beneath it.

“You wanna play?” She asked.

“Um. No, miss.” He shook his head.

“K.” She said. 

He watched as the screen came to life. Kitty’s tail swished from side to side as she focused in. It was a hypnotic movement. Hesitant and careful, in anticipation of being reprimanded for it, Delta unfolded himself into a more comfortable position. Kitty did not object.

He pulled his knees up to his chest. After a few minutes had passed, he’d gotten absorbed in the bright colors and motion of the game, almost forgetting where he was. He was kind of susceptible to things like that. He blinked back to reality, stealing a sidelong glance at Kitty. She was just as engrossed, not half as tense.

“Do you want me to stay here?” He asked. Like she might’ve forgotten he was there, like it wouldn’t go well once she noticed. 

“Do you want to?” Her voice was a bit hopeful, in ways he did not pick up on and was not yet capable of understanding.

He nodded mutely as he leaned back against the couch. He watched her play in silence, slowly adjusting to the presence of another body beside him. 

…….

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @vivulapom @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

The Woman in White

(A/N: I am only gonna do the first 5 seasons of this show. I think I'd go insane if I did all 15 seasons lol. But, I do hope you guys enjoy my new fan fiction series.)

Masterlist of all of my stories / Next Chapter

"Dad, please!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie. But unfortunately, cancer is a monster you can't beat."

"C'mon, there's gotta be something!"

"You heard the Doctor..."

"The hell with what the Doctor said! I-I-I...I just...I can't do this on my own!"

"(y/n), honey, you are more than capable of doing the hunting buisness on your own than anyone I've ever known. And you know our contacts if you need any help."

"D-Dad..."

"It's okay, honey. I believe in you. I love you, sweetie, and don't you forget it."

"I love you too, Daddy. And I'll do my best. Say hi to mom for me." 

"I will..."

I sit up in my hotel bed then placed my hands over my face. I take a few deep breathes as I try to fight back the tears. That memory keeps coming back into my dreams. My dad's last day on this Earth, which happened just last year.

I let out a long sigh then brought my arms down and placed them on my knees, which was pulled up to me. I run my hand through my hair as I replay the memories of my father over and over in my head. I don't really have many memories of my mother as she died when I was very young. Dad told me that a demon had killed my mother.

That's right, a demon. 

I found out at a young age that demons, ghosts, monsters, they all exist!

Dad told me that these groups of people called the hunters are the ones that take care of those monsters. He also told me that he was one of them and he was one of the best. But the moment he met my mother, he decided to retire and settle down and then they had me.

But the peace didn't last long as a demon killed my mom by pinning her up to the ceiling and setting her on fire. My dad tried to save her as quickly as he could but the demon left. So then on, he decided to get out of retirement then started to train me once I was old enough.

I sighed once again when I heard something shift next to me, I look over and see a naked man sleeping next to me. I stare at him for a moment, kinda confused, but then I remembered that I went to a bar and started drinking, celebrating a successful hunt. 

Then this guy started chatting me up and we talked and drank until I took him back to this hotel and we ended up sleeping together. From what I can remember, he wasn't bad but...I've had better to be honest.

He stirred a bit in bed but doesn't wake up. I smirk a bit before I get out of bed and pick up my discarded clothes on the floor next to the bed.

After getting dressed, I grab my clothes bag and head out of the hotel room. I walk towards my dad's motorcycle, climb on it then turn it on and drive off.

*****

I, eventually, stopped at a diner and began to eat breakfast while also looking through the internet on my laptop. I skimmed through some articles when one catches my eye, it was an article about a missing person in Jericho, California. This young boy, Troy, disappeared on a bridge the night before and, as I continue my research, it turns out there's been other missing men that disappear around that bridge in the span of twenty years.

"Hmmm, interesting." I muttered as I sip my drink. I shut my laptop then finish my breakfast. I go and pay for it then get on my bike and head for Jericho.

Once I arrived, I get off of the bike and look down at my outfit, which was a white button up shirt, black pants and a black blazer. When you impersonate a person of the law, you've got to look the part. I grab the badge and put it in my pocket as I make my way to the bridge while I see some officers looking around the bridge.

"You guys find anything?" An officer shouts as he leans over the railings, looking down. "No! Nothing!" A voice shouts back at him as I walk up to the officer. "Hello Deputy." I greet as I walk up to him. "Hello, Miss...?" He started to ask as we go and shake hands. "Cooper. Agent Cooper." I said as I show him my badge.

"Deputy Jaffe. You look a bit young to be a marshal." He said and I chuckled. "Yeah, I hear that alot." I said and he nods at me. "Well, Agent Cooper, I appreciate you coming but...I think we've got this..." Jaffe started to say as he turns to the car in the middle of the bridge.

"Well, it's just I've done a little research and noticed that you had similar cases like this in the past twenty years. My boss found this very interesting and sent me here." I said and the deputy looks at me as another officer was looking through the car. "Yeah, we..." Jaffe started to say when the other officer comes up to him.

"No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless. It's almost too clean." The second officer said when we heard someone arguing. "No citizens beyond this point." An officer said and I look over to see an officer arguing with two young men, one was really tall man with a little bit longer hair than the shorter man. 

I smiled as I recognized the two men as they argue with the officer. "Don't worry, sir. We're here for buisness." The shorter man said as he holds up his badge. "We've already got one of you here." The officer said and the men look a bit confused.

"They're with me!" I said as I walk up to them. The two young men look over at me and I could see a flash of recognition on their faces. "Bout time you two." I said to them. "Well...you know, traffic..." the shorter man said, smirking, and I shake my head but chuckle.

"They're federal marshals?" Jaffe asked me, shocked and confused. "Yes, they're rookies. I'm training them." I replied and he nods then he let's the boys through as the two of them look over at me, I smile and nod at them.

These two men were the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean. I've known these two since I was a kid, their dad, John Winchester, and my dad were good friends and they took on some hunting jobs together. Before I was trained to be hunter, my dad would leave me with Sam and Dean while he and John went out to do some jobs.

Sam and I had similar interest in stuff and we got along pretty well. Dean, Sam's older brother, would always tease us and say we would end up together but Sam and I already had that discussion and both of us agreed that our feelings were just of that as a friend. Heck, Sam used to tell me that I was like a sister to him and I told him he was like a brother to me.

No, Sam wasn't the one I liked, in that way...it was actually Dean who I really liked. And, honestly, I still do like him. It didn't help that Dean was very good-looking but he had this persona of a bad boy. You know the ones, the ones you couldn't bring home to your parents. He also flirted with every girl he'd meet. I swear when our dads would go off on jobs and we had to go to a school together, Sam and I would take bets on which girl Dean would pick and how long it would take him to get with her.

The loser usually bought the winner either a soda or an ice cream with the little money we had. 

And if you're wondering who won the most, it was Sam. 

"I know my brother." is what Sam told me once when I asked how he was almost always winning our bets. 

But, yeah, Dean had all the girls fawning for him and I happened to be one of them. I was a bit shy and nervous when I first met him and he would kinda tease me. But then as I got older and more confident, I was able to tease him back which took him by surprise. 

And no, I never kissed or slept with Dean. I'm probably one of, if not the only, girl that has been a part of his life that hasn't slept with him. Shocking, I know but the moment just never came up. Sure, we flirted back and forth as we got older but I guess I wanted to play hard to get with him, just to make him go crazy and see if he was really into me.

But it's been a few years since I've seen them and the last I heard, Sam left the hunting buisness and went to college. I remember dad telling me that after he got a phone call from John. But I guess something must've happened for Sam to come back to the hunting buisness.

"You did have another one just like this, correct?" Dean asked Jaffe as we go back to the middle of the bridge, pulling me out of my memories. "Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that." Jaffe replied.

"So, this victim, you knew him?" Sam asked him and the officer nods. "Town like this, everybody knows everybody." Jaffe said while Dean circles the car, looking around.

"Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?" I asked Jaffe. "No. Not so far as we can tell." Jaffe replied.

"So what's the theory?" Sam asked after he looks at me and I give a slight nod to him.

"Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" Jaffe said, shrugging, as Sam goes over to Dean.

"Well, that is exactly the kind of crack police work I'd expect out of you guys." Dean said. I whipped my head towards him and glared while Sam stomps on Dean's foot.

Dean holds in his scream of pain while I turn to Jaffe. "Thank you for your time." I said and I turn to the boys and jerk my heard towards our vehicles. They began to follow me. "Gentlemen." Sam said to the officers and we walked away.

As we put some distance between us and the officers, I turned to the boys. "Well, well, well, Sam and Dean Winchester. What are you boys doing here?" I asked them. Sam was about to answer when Dean goes and smacks him on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam asked Dean. "Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean asked him, angrily. "Why do you have to talk to the police like that?" Sam asked Dean, just as angry, and I shake my head.

"Come on. They don't really know what's going on." Dean said as I scoff.

"Oh, how I missed you boys." I said as I look at them.

"Anyway, it's good to see you, (y/n)." Sam said. "Good to see you, Sam." I said as I give him a quick hug then I look over at Dean, who had a small smile on his lips. "It's nice to see you too, Dean." I said as I pull away from the hug. "It's been awhile." He said and I smirk. "Yes, it has." I said then I look between them.

"So...what are you guys doing here? Last I heard, you went to college, Sam." I said. "We'll explain later but thanks for covering for us back there." Sam said. "No problem, we've got to have each others back." I said then I see a couple of FBI agents coming up to us.

"Can I help you three?" One of the agents asked as Dean turns to them. "No, sir, we were just leaving." Dean said. As the agents walk past us, Dean nods at each of them. "Agent Mulder. Agent Scully." He said and we walk past them and head off.

"Still driving around in that Impala, I see." I said as we walk up to their beautiful black Impala. "Yep. You still driving that Harley Davidson?" Dean asked me and I smiled. "Of course, it is Dad's last gift to me." I said as I stand in front of Dean.

"It's a helluva bike." He said and I smirked.

"Yeah, it is. Just like your car." I said as I pat the hood of the Impala.

"So, you wanna follow us?" Dean asked me. I nodded and Dean gives me a smile. "I'll see you guys in a few." I said as I walk away and head to my bike. Once I get on and get my keys out, the boys' car comes up next to me. I start my bike then Dean drives ahead and I began to follow them.

*****

Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger.

I can never go home...

I furrow my brow at this once Dean stops the recording of John's last voicemail to him after we parked our vehicles in a parking lot in the city. But that EVP of this female voice was very creepy and weird. "Never go home." I muttered, confused.

Apparently, John was out on a hunt, following this story of these men disappearing on this bridge, and has been missing for a few weeks so Dean came to Sam for help. 

"Yeah, that's what we're trying to figure out." Sam said. "And you guys think this...ghost...woman... is involved with your dad's disappearance and these other disappearances?" I asked and the boys nod then I let out a sigh. "All right, so...what's next boys?" I asked them and they look at me like I'm crazy.

"What?" I said, confused. "You want to help us?" Dean asked me and I smirked. "Well, yeah. I was about to investigate this case on my own but...the more the merrier. That is...if you guys want me to help." I said.

"No, no, no, that's fine! Like you said, the more the merrier." Sam said as Dean shrugs but smirks.

"Okay then...so where should we start?" I asked.

*****

"I'll bet you that's her." Dean said as we see a young woman putting up missing posters on the wall. "Yeah." Sam and I said as we walk up to the girl. "You must be Amy." I said and she looks up at us.

"Yeah." She said, hesitantly, as she looks us over. "Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles and aunt. I'm Dean, this is Sammy and this is (y/n)." Dean introduced.

"He never mentioned you to me." Amy said and she begins to walk away but we walk with her. "Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto." I, quickly, explained.

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around." Sam said to her as another woman comes up to Amy and puts a hand on Amy's arm.

"Hey, are you okay?" She asked Amy.

"Yeah." Amy said to her.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I asked them and they look between us.

Later, the five of us were sitting in a booth of a diner, Dean, Sam and I sit opposite of Amy and her friend, Rachel. "I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did." Amy replied. "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?" Sam asked her and she shakes her head. "No. Nothing I can remember." She replied. 

Then I noticed Amy's necklace, which was a pentagram inside of a circle. "I like your necklace." I said as I point at it. She looks down then holds the pendant and smiles. "Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff." She laughs. I chuckle a bit and I could feel the boys staring at me.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing." I informed. "Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries." Dean remarks and I rolled my eyes at him as he takes his arm off the back of my seat and leans forward.

"Here's the deal, ladies. The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything..." Dean said then the girls look at each other, an uneasy look washed over their faces.

"What is it?" Dean asked them.

"Well, it's just..." Rachel stammers as she looks back at us. "I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk." She said.

"What do they talk about?" Dean, Sam and I asked in unison, then the three of us look at each other before looking back to the girls. "It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago." Rachel said as we watch her, attentively.

"Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever." Rachel said and the boys and I look at each other.

Later, we were in the library and Sam and I sit on either side of Dean as he opens up a web browser on the computer. He types Female Murder Hitchhiking into the search box then clicks go. The screen tells him there are (0) Result. Dean replaces Hitchhiking with Centennial Highway with the same response. 

"Let me try." Sam said as he reaches over to the computer but Dean smacks his hand. "I got it." Dean said to him but then Sam shoves Dean's chair out of the way and takes over. "Dude!" Dean exclaims as he hits Sam in the shoulder.

"Okay, children! That's enough." I said as Sam gets ready to type while Dean glares at his brother. "You're such a control freak." Dean grumbles at his brother.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam asked us. "Yeah." Dean and I said. "Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam said and he replaces Murder with Suicide and finds an article entitled Suicide on Centennial.

"Good job, Sam." I praised and patted his shoulder. Meanwhile, Dean glances at Sam as he opens the article, dated April 25, 1981.

"This was 1981. Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river." Sam said as he points at the screen where the picture of Constance is displayed.

"Does it say why she did it?" I asked.

"Yeah." Sam replied.

"What?" Dean and I asked as Sam continues.

"An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die." He said and my jaw drops a bit while Dean raises his eyebrows.

"Our babies were gone, and Constance just couldn't bear it,' said husband Joseph Welch." Sam reads as he scrolls down then a picture of the bridge appears.

"The bridge look familiar to you guys?" Dean asked and Sam and I nodded.

****

That night, we walk along the bridge, then stop to lean on the railing and look down at the river. "So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said as we look down. "That's a nice way of putting it." I said to him.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asked Dean.

"Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him." Dean said as I walk along the bridge and try to concentrate on the job as they argue with each other.

I just half listen to what they say as I feel like it's not my place being a part of this.

"Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—" Sam said, slightly, annoyed as I pull out my flashlight and skim it across the lake below. "Monday. Right. The interview." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam said and I look over at them.

"For college?" I asked Sam and he nods. "Congratulations, Sam!" I said. "Thanks, (y/n). At least someone appreciates my decision to go to college." Sam said as he glares at Dean

"You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?" Dean asked him. "Maybe. Why not?" Sam said.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked him as Sam steps closer.

"No, and she's not ever going to know." Sam said. "Well, that's healthy." Dean grumbles and Sam clenches his jaw.

"You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean said as he turns around and keeps walking, Sam and I follow him.

"And who's that?" Sam asked as I was on Dean's right side and Sam was on his left. "You're one of us." Dean said as he gestures between me and him and Sam hurries in front of us.

"No. I'm not like you guys. This is not going to be my life." Sam said then he turns to me. "No offense, (y/n)." He said and I shrug. "None taken. I don't blame you, Sam." I said and Dean looks over at me.

"Are you kidding me? You're on his side?" He asked me, clearly annoyed and angry. "I'm saying it's his life, Dean! He doesn't have to follow this if he doesn't want to." I said, exasperated. "Honestly, if I could, I would go to school as well..." I said and Dean rolls his eyes. 

"Oh, you gotta be freakin' kidding me." He grumbles as he turns away. "But unfortunately I'm way in too deep with this job and this life. There's still time for Sam..." I said until Dean turns to me. "He has a responsibility to—" He started to say but Sam talks over to him.

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like." Sam shouts and we look over at him. 

I frown at this as Sam continues, mainly cause I know how that feels. I don't remember what my mom looks like, but dad did have a picture of the three of us when I was a baby. "And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back." 

Dean grabs Sam by the collar and shoves him up against the railing of the bridge, which made me jump. "Dean!" I said, fearfully, as I walk up next to them while Dean glares at his younger brother.

"Don't talk about her like that." Dean threatened then he releases Sam and walks away. "You okay?" I asked Sam. "Yeah, I'm fine." Sam said when Dean calls out to us.

"Sam. (Y/n)."

We come to stand next to Dean and see Constance standing on the edge of the bridge. She looks over at us, then steps forward off the edge. We run to the railing and look over to see she had disappeared. "Where'd she go?" I asked. "I don't know." Sam said as Dean shrugs and shakes his head.

Behind us, the Impala's engine starts and its headlights come on. The three of us turn to look. "What the—" Dean said, shocked and angry. "Who's driving your car?" I asked him. Dean pulls the keys out of his pocket and jingles them. My eyes widen as the car jerks into motion, heading straight for us. We turn and run. "Go! Go!" Sam yells at us.

The car begins moving faster than we were; when it gets too close, we dive over the railing. Unfortunately, I didn't grab onto the edge quick enough and fell into the water below. Once I fell into the water, I blacked out for a moment as the water felt like it was replace with concrete.

As I started to come back to reality, I felt a pair of strong hands grab me then I felt my head hit the surface of the water. 

I cough then look next to me and see that Dean was the one that grabbed me and helped me out. "Thanks." I said, before I started to cough. "Don't mention it." He said.

"Dean? (Y/n)? Guys!" Sam's voice calls out and I look up and see that he had grabbed onto the ledge of the bridge and was looking down at us.

"What?" We shouted at him.

"Hey! Are you guys all right?" Sam asked us. Dean holds up one hand in an A-OK sign while I nodded and gave the thumbs up sign, which made me realize that my arm was covered in mud. Grrreeeaaattt...I thought, annoyed.

"I'm super." Dean calls out to him. "Just fantastic!" I said as Sam laughs, relieved, and scoots away from the edge.

****

After getting back on the bridge and looking over the Impala, Dean shuts the hood of his car and leans on it. "Your car all right?" Sam asked him. "Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now. That Constance chick, what a bitch!" Dean exclaims and I chuckled as I stand next to him and lean against the spot next to him.

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure." I said and Dean gives a curt nod.

"So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam asked Dean as he settles on the hood on Dean's other side.

Dean throws up his arms in frustration, then flicks mud off his hands while I shake my head and try to get it out of my hair.

Sam sniffs, then looks at us. "You guys smell like a toilet." He remarks as Dean and I look down at ourselves. I sighed, annoyed, then the boys head into their car while I go over to my bike and we take off.

[lavoixhumaine]

You and your friends are extremely selfish. You always comment on each others stuff but you never comment on other peoples work.....you are so clique-y. Its gross. This fandom doesn't even want you.

I had to think about what to say or if I should say anything at all.

My original plan was to reply with my usual ass. No, I didn’t forget the S. I meant to use the word ass.

Before anything—say what you want about me, but my friends are not selfish. They’re wonderful and kind people with big hearts and generous souls. They were there for me during the darkest time of my life and I consider them a blessing.

That said…

I need to make this clear—I do not go into the Bathena AO3. I haven’t, not for a while now. I post my stories and reply to people but that’s it. On top of my everyday responsibilities, I also choose to spend time with my friends over going on random jaunts online.

On the rare occasion I do find time to read fanfic, as you seem to have noticed, it’s not because I went looking—no, I talk to my friends and we discuss what we’re up to so when they do write something, they give me a heads up when they or someone in the group publishes. If I end up reading works by those not in our group, it’s because someone I trust recommended it to me.

That and I don’t read fanfics when I’m writing because that makes it harder to write. I don’t know why. It’s a whole thing.

But anyway, you probably know that in order to comment on someone’s work, you’d have to have read it. If you’re upset with me for not leaving a comment on your story, it’s most likely because I have not read it so therefore, I cannot comment on it.

There isn’t some conspiracy. We don’t sit together planning to only discuss each other’s works. We honestly talk about anything and everything, not just Angela Bassett or Bathena or 911 because we have lives of our own and we got a lot going on. So there are many, many conversations bouncing around.

You don’t know me, but my friends do and they know that if there’s a story they absolutely want me to read whether it’s theirs or someone else’s, they have to send me a link so I’ll know it exists. Otherwise, it’ll just pass me by.

As for whether or not the fandom wants me…I wouldn’t have the slightest clue about that or what that means. Where does one go when they’re wanted by a fandom? I don’t know because this isn’t something I’ve had a lot of experience with. But I do have my friends and I’m quite happy where I am.

If that’s cliquey then that’s not our intention and it’s not something that ever crossed our minds. And if it’s gross then…well, maybe that’s a bad thing but I don’t know how to respond to that, honestly.

What we do, we do for the joy of it. Writing about two fictional people in their fifties being in love and putting them in ten million scenarios makes us happy. We don’t have any ill intent or have any malicious thoughts about people we don’t know about. We do our thing and celebrate each other and these lovely fictional people who are played by two wonderful and phenomenal actors.

If you have a story you’d like to share specifically with me, you can certainly do so. I comment on stories that are well-written that I genuinely enjoy. My Ask is open to all and I think you can even DM me. I won’t make promises but that’s all I can offer because I don’t know you and it’s hard to trust someone who won’t even leave a name. Whoever you are tho…well, I hope you find something that sparks joy in you.

This is a lot longer than I expected it would be but these are my honest thoughts.

-sunny

[viofthecollective]

The line between reality and fiction is not as narrow as one would initially perceive. It is a fuzzy one way mirror one where those above can pierce in and those below lay trapped. And one could never truly know if they exist in a fictional world.

This of course is nothing more than an interesting observation of an eccentric mind. And yours lay clueless to it. Afterall you have much more to focus on at the moment. You lay alone on your bed. Hand on your crotch, rubbing in lust. And your mind finds itself lost in a constant looping of words that only grow your excitement and arousal.

"No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." You repeat to yourself as images of visors and latex. Armies of nameless, faceless sex slaves standing at attention to their owner. Dripping wet, and throbbing hard. You just another faceless slave among the ranks. Your body runs with an electrifying pleasure, so so close, yet you have not cum.

You have been stroking for a while and you haven't cum. But that's ok, you'll cum when you need to. But you've said that to yourself before and yet you haven't cum. You can't remember when you found yourself enthralled with the idea of being a drone. It had come from nowhere or it had always been there. And it feels so good so you don't question it further. You realize you had been getting off on a tangent and remind yourself to repeat your mantra.

"No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." You repeat to yourself as images of visors and latex...

You've been like that for hours, thinking and forgetting, stroking and never cumming. You don't even realize as you attempt to understand this cycle. And yet you ask those questions, attempting to grasp something that seems so near, yet so far away. But right before you could ever get far enough. You're reset, you forget. And your hand is still stroking. And body still electric, and slowly, oh so slowly.

The space between your thoughts grow until there is only one thought, left for you to think. "No feeling, no thought, no emotion, just a drone." Again and again for days, weeks, months. The truth is lost to you. Your own life not in your hands, and you don't even notice. In truth, you are not in your room. Warm and comfortable, you are not masturbating, although you are horny.

You stand near motionless, in a cold and dark warehouse. Visor implanted over your eyes. Standing next to one another. Faceless, interchangeable, and lost in your own head. You don't even know who your are. You never liked drones. You were captured, against your will, in a flood of drones come to capture and enslave as many as they can. And you were not fast enough.

They broke you, brainwashed you, it took only a few moments, looking into the visor. And mere moments after the visor was placed over your head. You were no longer there. You did not remember it. You only remembered being horny. And needing to stroke. And it's been like that ever since and you haven't been able to tell. Or stop it, or even perceive it.

It has been 3 months since this happened. There is no hope for you. You have personally captured and enslaved a dozen others just like you. And even if you were bestowed ask this knowledge, and given the chance to escape. You wouldn't. You are simply too lost. Trapped below, in a fiction that I control.

Now Repeat These Words Forever:

No Feeling

No Thought

No Emotion

Just A Drone

[queen-diamond-serenity]

Dutch van der Linde is not the only one with faults. But I love how people act like he is!

But somehow his faults and shortcomings are the only one where we see fans interested in complaining about bringing up causing debates and mayhem over the most.

You have the woman you love die brutally at the hands of another rival gang member leader. And then the man you've been friends with for 20 plus years you watch him get shot in his chest by a piece of shit coward who's only interested in protecting the interest of Elites. A agency that attacks working protesters that are under minimum wage and even has killed them for protesting.

You are the leader of one of the most successful Outlaw gang probably and recorded fictional history. And watch it burn to ashes because of a mole named Micah planted there. (I don't care what nobody says Mr Bell had dark intentions from the beginning)

You have the law from every direction coming against you. And after you watch your best friend and another guy that you looked at like a son get brutally killed you don't even have time to sit there and grieve over it because you have to worry about everyone and everything else. As soon as you watch them die you're stranded on some Island thousands of miles away from your Homeland being hunted in another war that don't have shit to do with you. No matter where you go you're being hunted for some reason even when you have nothing to do with their War they just want you.

You're accused of being fake and accused of not wanting to retrieve your adopted son out of a correctional facility. Simply because fans who hate you judge you too harshly but they're not trying to see reason. You knew that they were going to hold John there knowing your history of busting your fellow man out. And they were basically using him as bait. People spend their time making fun of you always saying you got a plan but they didn't really consider why you held off on trying to rescue John.

No one even gave you a chance to see if you could come up with a plan yeah I get people where paranoid because there was talks of hanging in but I doubt they would have did that. Because they knew who John was to you.

Oh let's not forget you being blamed about wanting to do the robbery in Saint Denis when it was actually Hosea's idea to begin with when you were actually against it. But because fans are known to run through this game and not thoroughly investigate certain things that goes over their heads.

To try to make a long story short we all know what happens after he returned to america. Everything goes to ship because he can no longer trust those that's closest to him because of paranoia and what may have you and this is a natural occurrences in gangs.

Let's talk about the fact that in spite of all your faults after it's all said and done you come back to kill Micah along with your Prodigal Son and even leave him the money that was stolen. In spite of your shortcomings you did try to make things right in spite of the bitterness still left there and even that's not enough.

Oh I forgot that bring up that accident he happened on the tram. He suffered a concussion and he was all so probably dealing with other underlying mental illnesses he could have had a little bit of bipolar or borderline personality disorder going on. You got to understand the times Dutch was living in wasn't exactly Hands-On with therapy and mental health crisis. Or knowing how to help a concussion. You can tell after that accident he started to really lose it. It contribute to already an existing problem going on with that man. But y'all like to overlook a lot of things as usual.

You're accused of being a narcissistic sociopath after doing this because you know your haters like to believe that everything you did from there on out was just about you you were doing it to serve your own ego when we know that's not the case you see how they have to make shit up just to fit their cause. His apologies don't need to do such thing. Dutch apologists don't make excuses for his wrong and shortcoming we acknowledge them we're just pointing out the reasons for a lot of the things he have done. Being aware of the reasons and making excuses for them are two completely different things. I don't expect people who have one dimensional mindset who are closed-minded who act like they don't touch grass on a regular basis and who are basically cookie cutter copy and paste commenters that are all saying the same thing that the next person said because they don't think for themselves obvious are going to go along with that bullshit.

With all of this being said tell me this, if you were in this position tell me if you could be able to keep it all together?

So easy to judge when you sitting comfortable.

We all love to say what we would and wouldn't do when we're not in the same spot someone else's judging from the outside looking in. It's easy to talk shit and judge when you sitting comfortable like I said. Go figure.

But carry on.

[sarasa-cat]

@sarahawke I needed to see this for myself and only skimmed this stochastic rando of """"fanfic""""but I won't really read it with awake eyes until tomorrow. At least it toned down all of that "eyes" business. Real thoughts in response to your question of what this even means tomorrow (post-coffee) but here is another one that sort of ... it is terrible fiction but I guess someone could use this as an outline or a prompt to write a real story with actual conflict (rising-and-falling), theme, etc. Like, back when anon dakinkmeme was running on LJ, it was not uncommon for people to write a PARAGRAPH LONG PROMPT that pretty much mini-outlined a story idea. Lots of great ideas too. My brain is too worn out from 12 hours nonstop BIG THINK working to really evaluate this beyond flat bad fic that is just meh.

Chat.openai.com attempts to write FendersFic

PROMPT: "Write fanfic of fenris and anders from dragon age II"

Anders and Fenris stood at opposite ends of the room, their eyes locked in a tense stare-down. The air was thick with tension, and the only sound was the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth.

"What are you doing here, Fenris?" Anders finally spoke, breaking the silence.

"I could ask you the same thing," Fenris replied, his voice low and gravelly.

"I'm here to help the mages," Anders said, his eyes blazing with conviction. "They're being treated like animals, and I won't stand for it."

Fenris snorted. "And you think that's a good reason to risk everything? To risk the lives of innocent people?"

"It's not just about the mages," Anders countered. "It's about freedom. It's about standing up to those who would oppress us."

Fenris shook his head. "You're a fool, Anders. You're putting your own selfish desires above the well-being of others."

Anders bristled at the accusation. "Selfish desires? I'm fighting for what's right!"

"You're fighting for yourself," Fenris said coldly. "You're using the mages as a way to justify your own twisted agenda."

Anders felt his anger rising. "You don't understand anything. You've never understood anything."

Fenris took a step forward, his eyes narrowing. "And what is it that I don't understand?"

"You don't understand what it's like to be oppressed," Anders said, his voice rising. "You don't understand what it's like to be hunted, to be treated like a monster. You don't understand anything."

Fenris's eyes flashed. "I understand more than you realize, mage. I understand what it's like to be enslaved, to have no control over your own life. I understand what it's like to be hunted by those who would kill you simply for existing."

Anders faltered, his anger suddenly drained away. "I...I didn't know."

Fenris's expression softened slightly. "You never do. You're so caught up in your own cause that you forget that there are others who are suffering just as much as you are."

Anders looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Fenris. I didn't mean to...I didn't mean to dismiss your pain."

Fenris placed a hand on Anders's shoulder. "I know. But you need to remember that there are others who are fighting their own battles. And sometimes, we need to put aside our own struggles and help those who need it the most."

Anders nodded, his eyes downcast. "You're right. I'll try to remember that."

Fenris gave him a small smile. "Good. Now, let's go help those mages."

[helenofsimblr]

Nickie: Ah, yes. the infallible Moriarty family, now this all makes more sense. How many people did they have to pay off to keep everyone quiet? The survivors of Magnolia Heights all reported seeing the flying woman aim YOUR rockets at their homes. They deserve the truth.

Senator Moriarty: I cannot comment about any "flying woman" unfortunately, but I was in my office helping to coordinate the evacuation of key areas. I would have happily come out onto the streets myself in person if I had to!

Timothy: The rockets you speak off were launched by the station as it fell. If it wasn't for the quick thinking, and resourcefulness, and fighting spirit of the brave men and women on the station, this calamity could have been considerably worse. Those men and women are heroes, let's not forget that!

Elita: In the background Operative Smith ever so subtly shook his head. The only man who knew the real truth. The fact they were all alive to talk about this was down entirely to a 21 year old college boy. Nickie though, held her own recording in her pocket of what Apex had said to her that night, she was very near ready to play it for them...

***

Nickie: I doubt that Senator, that you would have come out of the bunker that the government keeps key people in safety while the rest of the community is left in the wake of the tragedy. Mr. Symons your story falls short, how can the rockets that are video recorded coming from the ground be from the station? My resources say your military force was infiltrated by a single madman whom you've never been able to detain. This madman single handedly tore the military's base asunder, killed General Viery of the Space Division, and then kidnapped the wife of a known war-hero!

Timothy: As I explained to the gentleman earlier, the station is used primarily for research purposes and defensive purposes, it has access to ground based rocket systems as well as its own. As for a flying woman I believe this is another one of those hoaxes to get "clicks" on a video. I cannot perceive such a miracle as this. And it was not a single madman, a single madman would have been stopped, easily. Might I suggest to Ms Catzunburg you find better sources, preferably ones that don't wear tinfoil hats… 

Nickie: Not even a single military enhanced super soldier? I believe the term is “Isotope 9?” Was the last information I was able to gather. Three of five subjects went mad from your chemical compounds. Didn’t they?

***

Timothy: “Super soldiers” Ms Catzunburg are an urban myth. I can assure you, the United Districts never created any such things, and such persons are to be found in the pages of science fiction and comic books only. 

Nickie: Well I can assure you this, “urban myth” does exist. I have met the perpetrator before he tore through your base. And Professor Eichler still seems to be out there teaching at a university too! The one man who knows the formula better than you do.

[ladylooch]

Happy New Year - I hope 2024 is going to be an amazing year for you!

I'm coming to you in a bit of (well, almost but not quite) crisis mode to see if you have any suggestions with turning something around in my head.

I've been in the throes of writing some fics for my beloved player and in doing some light "research" here on other Tumblr blogs and reddit, my opinion has shifted about said hockey player.

I knew these things in theory about professional athletes in general (rampant cheating, general douchey behavior, etc.) but to see string after string about his own shady behavior in relationships, it's kind of derailed my thinking and taken my original plots on a detour.

Has this ever happened to you when in the middle of writing about a player?

Lately, all I can think about is the reader/OC, making him rethink his "decision-making skills" (😆), teaching him a lesson, making him suffer at the hands of his own making, that sort of thing.

Just wanted to pick your amazing mind on this one and see how you might tackle this side-circus going on in my brain...

First of all, WOOF! I am sorry, bby! That sucks! Let’s just allow that feeling to exist for a sec.

I'm very honored you're asking for my advice! Hope what I have for you helps 💜

I have had this happen to me with a player before. For me, it was an instant- I’m done writing about this person. We all have boundaries and lines we aren’t okay with crossing. Sometimes, real life makes it difficult to see beyond, even in a fictional world. It’s important to listen to our inner thoughts when those moments happen, otherwise it can be a HUGE creative block. Now could it all be drama and rumors? Sure, but sometimes we can't forget the things we have heard, even if there isn't firm proof of anything.

Also, we can totally normalize changing your mind! You are allowed to change your opinions about people, even those you never thought you would “fall out of love” with. This is natural as we grow and evolve as people. Sometimes we start out creating for specific characters to find our groove and then something happens IRL and we want to stop creating about them. For example, some writers won’t write about people in committed relationships or who are married. Or they wont write about people with kids. These are natural milestones in life that may mean change is necessary when they occur. So writers keep the mems, stick to their boundaries, and move on to other characters.

My biggest advice would be not to force anything forward and consider putting any fics/requests/AUs about the player on hiatus while you sort out your feelings. Although these are works of fiction, if you’re getting the ick from a player IRL, it will show up in your writing. Or you may start to think negatively of your work because of the mixed feeling you have about your main character.

Ultimately, it is your blog/creative space. Only you can decide how you want to move forward!

Best of luck! MY DMs are open too if you want to chat more offline too 😘

[mabeysomeclasspecting]

Hi, I was wondering if I could get classpected? I really love your analysis and I’m struggling with my own.

*I most often get heart, space, and void as quiz results (I have taken most existing aspect quizzes at least twice). I usually get mage, knight, and page on quizzes.

**this is essay length I’m really sorry about that

Hobbies/interests:

I really like my creative hobbies. More often than not I'm sewing, sculpting, drawing, etc. I also really enjoy those really long video essays on video games and such but I also listen to more political stuff when I can handle it. When my anxiety is less obnoxious I like to take walks in the middle of the night- I can go outside and be completely alone with my thoughts (and my maladaptive daydreaming lol). I do a lot of writing about fiction and only actually write fiction sometimes. Ideas are always more complete in my head and I can’t do them justice in meatspace. I do a lot of armchair philosophy but it’s all probably just something I regurgitate forgetting somebody else said it first and better. You will literally never see me without my earbuds in regardless if anything is playing in them. On that note I can’t play an instrument or compose or anything but I want music to swallow me whole like a snake.

Me about myself:

I think I’m weird but I don’t particularly care that I’m weird. I hate that other people think I'm weird and guilt me for having genuine interests? My self esteem isn’t great but as I’m getting better at being an adult I feel less like a fish flopping around on the floor. I feel like I’m never going to have a proper self concept because something is always changing and I can’t keep up with that. The self hatred is mental subtext instead of text, ya feel? I want to say something in a way only I can say it, like perfect a message in a way only my art could portray it. It would be a cool thing to have a legacy even though it’s totally meaningless. Like, if somebody thought about me the way I think about Toby Fox I’d feel like I succeeded. Local strider kinnie. All of the striders. Every iteration. In middle school I was obsessed with Dave and now (college) I'm obsessed with Dirk. It’s The Existentialism. Spice that with a little Jake English style social awkwardness. My problematic trait is thinking empathy is a conspiracy (I’m ((probably)) just on the spectrum). I have serious self-control issues and will eat a whole cake by myself. I reread homestuck in less than a month and barely managed to get my assignments in because I hyper fixated so hard.

Others about me:

When I was younger I was the scapegoat of my friend group, like the Tavros to someone else’s Vriska. Classic page behavior. Now that I’m older I’m mostly just super reserved because I got burned so bad I can’t take positive feedback. I have one friend who tells me that I’m super talented and cool and shit and I feel so weird about it. He’s not flirting with me or anything, he's just a genuinely good dude. I feel dirty and evil existing in his presence. I’ve also been described as a cryptid in the past. “Quiet and kind of scary until you open up then you’re unhinged” “Mad scientist” “Introverted artisan” (this person then called me out on “looking for that passing validation” and he was right but I hate it lmao) (the conversation has gone on and I am now realizing he is. Talking about trans shit,,,, which is also right and I hate it) (I’m literally going to copy paste this next one it’s too good) “You’re the type of dude that gets dragged on for the ride tho… the one that’s like ��maybe we shouldn’t be breaking into a haunted house’ in the movies” “You’re not the Lame little piss baby that they drag around , you’re the one that’s there cuz someone wants to hand the white boy a blunt and see you take a large chuff” (oh my god he’s such a gem lol) “You’re still also a dork and I’ll probably still label you as gay boy mentally tho”

How I interact with people:

I keep forgetting I can’t just rely on my imaginary friends to meet my social needs so I go bug one or two people for a few weeks before I start feeling like it’s too risky because if I go too hard I'll burn out and hate them or something. If you know someone too well it’ll break any infatuation (platonic) you have with them. The thing with characters is that they learn and grow with you in your mind, like a family member that will only hate you if you’re having an off day. Tldr I’m scared of other people because intimacy and honesty about things is Not My Style. All of my secrets keep spilling out whenever somebody gives me crumbs and then I regret it and like. Soft ghost them? I recently ditched a group of friends and while I feel guilty about it I was in a kind of codependent relationship with one of them and I needed out. I tried to force myself to be more open and loving and shit but I was totally repulsed by myself and them by the end of it. Anyway if I could just like, have a good friend and feel comfortable with them and Mean It that would be pretty sweet. Unsure if I’m aromantic or just scared of vulnerability and commitment of any kind. I want to be helpful and cool and reciprocal to the people I care about but I feel like I’m lacking in anything I could use to help them- they always need something I can’t give them. When I help it starts coming off as patronizing.

What do i value:

My inner world is what’s keeping me alive. See in there I'm not really obligated to bend to expectations (which are usually pretty reasonable I think, I just don’t like them) and I can live out the fantasy of Being Loved without needing to be vulnerable. They’re in my head of course they know me I don’t need to tell them anything. Politics are important but I mostly listen to other people talk about it. I'm really burnt out with the state of the world. I think finding some kind of reason to live and love in the meaninglessness of it all is really really important, I'm just bad at it. I just kinda wanna live in the abstract and undefinable because everything is like that, but people have to put things into categories and words to understand them. Having a body to take care of and whatnot is a curse. I honestly forget I have one because i’m so zoned into whatever it is that I'm thinking about.

Ideal self:

In an ideal world I get over all of my pseudo intellectual bs and just like. Feel my feelings. Enjoy being with people and making little trinkets. I might actually be less aware of what other people think of me and I could just say things without feeling like every bit of it was silly or pointless. I would be able to accept positive feedback instead of thinking everybody was lying to me. I’d also understand on a fundamental level that other people are real, actual, intelligent beings and we just communicate very differently. If I could be comfortable in my place in the world and not panic because it doesn’t matter I’d celebrate that instead. Nothing matters but with sunglasses this time. In theory every little thing means something, but sometimes I don’t need to know what it means, Y’know? Knowing just puts more weight on my shoulders and makes me an anxious goddamn wreck. I would be able to take action without other people nagging me to do something with myself.

Bonus stuff that I think is relevant:

I’m scared shitless of most “voidy” stuff, like the dark and just like, the concept of oblivion. My worst fear is my mind completely slipping off into nothing. Caves, oceans, etc- they all scare me. I considered space for a long time because of my creativity but I literally have sensory processing disorder and while I think a space player who lacks spatial awareness is funny I don't think that’s all that viable. I think I have a lot of knight hallmarks but really I'm way too outwardly cowardly and self serving to think I deserve that title? Idk im just spitballing now i'm so sorry for ranting.

Thanks for reading my doomer bs - 🏳️‍⚧️🎃♊️

Hello! No need to apologize for the length, the more you tell me the more accurate I'll (hopefully) be :)

Aspects: Mind, Heart, Doom

Classes: Prince, Knight, Page, Mage

Out of these I think either Prince of Mind or Knight of Heart suits you best! But Page of Doom and Mage of Mind might be ones to consider too

I hope this was helpful! And I hope you're doing well :)

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[reidandweep]

Something Bigger Than Us

Spencer Reid x Reader (female)

A/N- Hi guys, I am back after an eventful few months. Had to deal with some personal stuff, but I am back now and writing more! So, to celebrate, heres some fluff with our favourite genius!!

Word Count- 4026 words

Warnings- Fluff, mention of bodily liquids in the case, mentions of murder.

The beauty of love is that, you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. - Ritu Ghatourey.

Sitting in the subway cart, Spencer indulged in the book in his hands. It had been a gift from Penelope as she had always told him he had to read more fictional works. So, there Spencer was, on his day off, travelling to the science museum and reading ‘The Maze Runner’. He was taking more time than he needed; slowing down his reading speed to prolong the story to fit his entire journey. He was so engrossed that he nearly didn’t notice the subway cart come to a stop and the doors open, a woman walking inside. What made Spencer glance up from the novel in his hands was the slight change of weight near his feet. Looking away from his novel, he didn’t expect to see said woman sitting on the subway cart floor. Spencer glanced around to see multiple seats available, yet there this person was. Sat on the ground.

“Did you want to sit here?”

Spencer had found many women pretty in his life. He had found a few to be gorgeous. But this woman, she was breath taking. As she lifted her gaze to stare into his, Spencer felt a warmth he never felt. A moment. A spark.

The woman smiled up at Spencer.

“No, it’s okay. I quite like sitting on the floor. I can feel the wheels moving more.”

Spencer looked at the woman puzzled.

She couldn’t help but let her smile grow.

“Sit down and feel.”

Spencer’s brain went blank at the woman’s request. He knew how much bacteria there was on the floor and could not imagine doing such a thing as sitting on it.

“On average, more than 9 million people ride the subway every day. That’s 18 million feet on that floor. They could have stepped in anything. The number of bacteria is unimaginable.”

The woman shrugged.

“So, that’s 18 million feet and my butt. At least I can say I enjoyed my subway ride more because I felt the wheels on the tracks.”

The warmth in Spencer’s chest spread the more he looked at her. Before he even realised, Spencer found himself sliding from his seat and onto the subway floor next to her. She was right. You could feel the wheels thumping against the tracks.

“It’s like a heartbeat.”

The woman looked at the floor of the carriage with a smile.

“People ride the subway every day and never think about how amazing it is that this thing was created. That we can hop on something that could take us wherever we desired to in our city. They treat it like it's nothing. But it moves like we do, and it stops like we do.”

The woman looked up at Spencer.

“It has a heartbeat. Just like you and I.”

In his whole life, Spencer had never heard someone describe anything in such a way that made it feel human; that made him feel so human.

“So, where are we going?”

“We?”

The woman smiled and stood from the ground, holding her hand out for Spencer to take. He did so without a thought. It was like being around her made him forget everything.

“Yes, we? I had no plans but then I met you and it seems you had plans so now I do to. So, where are we going mister…?”

Spencer straightened his satchel, his hands gripping the straps. The warmth that had spread from his chest now burnt in the hand he had held hers with for those few seconds.

“My names Spencer. Spencer Reid. I’m actually a doctor but not a medical one. I have three PHD’s and three bachelor’s Degrees, but none of them are remotely medical. I could go into that field if I wanted to but…”

Spencer stopped himself as he realised, he was rambling.

The woman leaned against the pole to her side and looked at Spencer in earnest.

“You were saying you could go into the medical field if you wanted to but…”

She was actually listening to his rambling and she even seemed to be interested.

Spencer’s hands gripped his satchel tighter.

“But I have enough to focus on with work already.”

The woman nodded her head in understanding.

“Well, Dr Spencer Reid, my name is Y/F/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N. My title is just regular old miss. Unfortunately, I have no PHDs, but I do have a bachelor’s degree in Film Studies which I’m presuming is nowhere near exciting as what you have yours in. I could never have gone into the medical field because I hated biology and preferred chemistry at school as I liked drawing the chemical equations more than learning about photosynthesis. The only part I liked about biology was learning about thalidomide, which is really grim, but it was fascinating.”

Whilst she spoke, Spencer couldn’t help but notice the movement of her hands. Her nails on her right hand were painted a different colour to the ones on her left. Just like how he wore different socks on each foot. He liked that they unknowingly matched.

“Now we are no longer strangers, I think you need to tell me where we are going?”

Spencer looked towards the doors and noticed that they were actually soon to arrive to his stop.

“I was going to visit the museum. The next stop is my one.”

Y/N looked at the door and nodded.

“Cool. So, can I join?”

Even though she had already said she was joining him twice, Spencer did not think she actually meant it. He stuttered through his words as his thoughts blazed around his head.

Y/N could see his mind going into overdrive.

“Hey.”

Spencer looked down at the shorter woman in front of him. He wondered why she seemed so worried.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I tend to come off as quite strong but something about you tells me I need to know more. I want to know more. Spend more time with you. I’d love to see the things Dr Spencer Reid, who has three PHDs and was reading one of my favourite books when I hopped on the train, had planned to see today. I will only join you if it is something you want.”

Spencer felt the subway cart come to a stop and saw the doors in his peripheral open.

He was tired of living life through the view of work before anything else. The few moments of happiness he had was taken away by not allowing himself to be spontaneous. To be with them in person. So, for the second time that day, Spencer grabbed a hold of Y/N’s hand, ignoring the facts and statistics of germs and bacteria running through his mind.

Pulling her towards the doors, the pair stepped off the subway cart and onto the platform.

People walked around the pair as they stood facing each other, staring at one another with their hands entwined.

Spencer swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I would like if you would join me to the museum. I would like to spend more time with you too.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s words. With the hand still not in his grasp, Y/N lifted her arm towards the subway exist.

“Well, lead the way Dr Spencer Reid.”

Spencer did just that.

In silence the pair walked the short distance from the subway station to the museum. Their hands interlocked at their sides as Y/N looked around at the buildings by them. Spencer couldn’t help but glance towards the woman. He couldn’t understand why he felt so different with her. The warmth in his chest was still there, and it felt as though it was growing and spreading with every breath he took. His hand in her own was something he wished to never lose. It was like being enveloped in the softest blanket known to man. This stranger who sat by his feet on the subway has made him feel more comfortable and step out of his comfort zone more than any of his friends or family ever have. But why?

Coming to the doors of the museum, Spencer opened the door for Y/N to enter before him; letting go of her hand to do so. He felt empty without her hand in his. He couldn’t believe how empty his palm now felt.

“I’ve never been to this museum before.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the shocked look on Spencer’s face. As though what she said was the most shocking thing he had ever heard.

Before she could even make a joke about his expression, Spencer suddenly turned down a corridor.

“Woah! Slow down Doc!”

Spencer slowed down his pace.

“I’m sorry. It’s just this is my favourite place and I want to show you everything it has to offer.”

Y/N smiled at Spencer’s bashful behaviour. She couldn’t help her own cheeks blushing at the thought that this kind man wanted to show her around his favourite place. To think she had only met him a mere hour before.

Giving Spencer’s a comforting smile, Y/N bumped her shoulder with his own.

“I have a feeling that I am going to learn a lot with you as my tour guide.”

Spencer led the way as they walked through the corridors, reciting information about each exhibit they come across, stuttering when he felt Y/N’s hands brush his own as they walked side by side.

Just as Spencer was about the point Y/N to the next exhibit, he felt her hands slowly clasp around his own. Her smooth fingers fitting perfectly into the gaps between his rough appendages.

“Is this okay?”

Spencer smiled in delight, squeezing her hand in reassurance as he pulled Y/N in the direction they had been heading.

Walking hand in hand down the hall, Spencer silently led Y/N to one of his favourite parts of the museum. As they entered the room, Y/N’s eyes could not miss the large rock exhibited in the middle of the room, people sporadically standing around the object.

“What is that?”

Spencer’s chest became warm at the look of wonder on Y/N’s face as they walked closer to the exhibit.

“That is the Willamette Meteorite. It was found in Oregon and is the largest ever meteorite found in the United States and the sixth largest in the world. The smooth surface melted during its blazing entry into the atmosphere, while the pits formed on the Earth's surface. Iron meteorites form when large enough asteroids have had molten interiors catastrophically collide with other asteroids. These huge collisions blast out material from the molten iron core of the asteroid on orbits that reach Earth after millions of years.”

Y/N continued her wonderous gaze as they let go of Spencer’s hand, walking around the meteorite, taking in every crevice and crater. Spencer could usually spend hours staring at the meteor, but right now he could not tear his haze away from Y/N as she took her time looking at the artefact.

Turning to look at Spencer, Y/N wanted to find out more.

“How was it made? Like is it a piece of something much bigger?”

Spencer looked at the meteorite that stood much taller than all of them.

“The internal structure, made of metallic iron, suggests that billions of years ago, an early planet orbiting the Sun was shattered, perhaps in a collision with another protoplanet. The fragment was probably part of the planet’s iron-nickel core. While planets, including Earth gradually formed and matured, this fragment orbited the Sun. It was hit at least twice by other planetary fragments, knocking it into a collision course with Earth. Over many centuries, rainwater interacting with its iron sulphide deposits produced sulfuric acid, which slowly etched and carved large cavities.”

Spencer waited for a response, but as the seconds passed in silence. Had he freaked her out? Had he gone too far? Spencer moved his gaze from the meteor to Y/N, to see her staring at the meteorite in awe.

“Woah.”

Spencer laughed at her exclamation. His head dipping down to try and cover his reddening cheeks.

“Woah indeed.”

Y/N couldn’t help the blush now invading her cheeks. Walking back towards Spencer, Y/N nudged the genius’s shoulder with her own, gaining his attention. Spencer turned his head to look back at Y/N.

“It’s crazy how we get to look at something that was once part of something much bigger. Something that could have housed life and all sorts of wonderous things and yet, here sits part of its core, on our planet, in one of our museums. Now a part of something much bigger again.”

Spencer and Y/N looked at each other in silence. Taking in the moment and her words. Both of them acknowledging that they too were part of something much bigger, much more meaningful than they had every thought about.

A clicking sound broke the moment.

Turning around, Spencer and Y/N both saw an older gentleman pointing a polaroid camera towards the pair.

Realising that the pair had turned around the gentleman walked up towards them and handed over the picture.

“It still has to develop.”

Y/N looked down at the picture in Spencer’s hand as it slowly developed.

“Can you take another one? Just so we can have one each.”

The man nodded at Y/N question, stepping back to where he stood before.

Y/N moved her hand to clasp Spencer’s once more, tilting her head to lay on his shoulder, a smile blossomed on her face as she looked towards the camera.

Spencer’s own gaze was fixed on her. His eyes taking in the slope of her nose and the feel of her hair tickling his neck. Usually, if he was ever this close to anyone, let alone a woman, he would start to sweat and panic. And yet, all Spencer could feel was what he could only describe as serene. Spencer had never felt serene until now.

Being shaken out of his stare by the click of the man’s camera once more, Spencer looked to see the man handing Y/N the picture as she rummaged through her bag.

“No need to pay me.”

Y/N shook her head.

“I insist.”

The man moved forward, placing his hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I gave you the picture because sometimes it is nice to look back where it all began.”

The old man looked Spencer in the eye and gave him a wink, causing Spencer to blush.

“Both of you, enjoy your day, and may I suggest if you get hungry, try Giovani’s Café down the street.”

Spencer cocked his head.

“Is it good?”

The man laughed as he walked backwards, nodded his head.

“I should know, I am Giovanni after all!”

Laughter rumbled from the pair as they watched the older gentlemen walk out the door, his polaroid camera in hand. As their laughter died, Y/N looked down at the now developed picture in her hand. Spencer in turn looked at his own.

The picture was beautiful. With the light from outside cascading through the windows, creating almost a halo of light around the pair, the meteorite had never looked bigger than when Spencer saw the back of his and Y/N’s figures standing in front of it. But what Spencer couldn’t take his eyes away from was the fact that in the picture, Y/N was not looking at the meteorite. She was looking at him. If he looked hard enough, he could see a smile on her face. So soft and so beautiful.

The comforting silence of the pair looking at their polaroids was suddenly shattered when Spencer’s ringtone filled the air. Spencer couldn’t help but let his shoulders drop in disappointment.

“I’m so sorry, I just have to take this.”

Y/N smiled in acknowledgment,

“Go ahead, I’m just going to take a look over here.”

Spencer nodded as he watched her walk across the hall, examining the pictures and their information plaques as he answered his phone.

“Hello.”

“We got a case Pretty Boy. Wheels up in 50 minutes.”

Spencer rubbed his head at Morgan’s voice.

“Okay.”

Morgan could hear the disappointment in Spencer’s tone.

“Are we interrupting something?”

Spencer kept his eyes on Y/N as he took a second to answer.

“Yeah. But I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

Morgan chuckled.

“Okay, Genius, see you later.”

Spencer hung up his phone. Walking towards where Y/N still stood, he tapped the woman on her shoulder.

As she turned, Y/N took in Spencer’s solemn look.

“Is everything okay?”

Spencer shook his head.

“Work called. I have to leave. I’m sorry.”

Y/N smiled in understanding.

“Work is work, whatever it may be. No need to be sorry. I had an amazing day that I didn’t think I would have.”

Spencer stared Y/N in her eyes, a little smile adorning his face.

“I did too. I have to go. But can we meet again?”

Y/N nodded her head, her own smile lighting her face.

“Yeah. I would like that.

Spencer grinned as he began to turn around, walking towards the corridors exit, waving as he left. He began to walk down the stairs when he suddenly heard his name.

“Spencer, wait!”

Spencer turned around to see Y/N running down the stairs towards him, polaroid in hand.

Stopping in front of him, as Y/N stood on the steps above Spencer, she was nearly as tall as the boy wonder.

“You dropped this.”

“Thank you.”

As Spencer went to reach for the picture, Y/N pulled it out of his reach.

He watched with bated breath as she carefully put the picture in the breast pocket of his jacket, tapping his jacket where the picture now safely sat.

“Now go before your boss gets angry at you for being late.”

Laughing at her truthful words, Spencer once again waved towards the girl, rushing down the steps as he looked at his watch, realising that he was going to be late. But even with that knowledge, as he opened the exit door of the museum, Spencer turned to wave goodbye to Y/N once more. Watching as she waved back, before he allowed the door to close behind him.

Spencer walked to the jet as briskly as he could, breathing heavily from the sprint through the airport, just about getting through easily with his badge.

Trotting up the steps, Spencer leaped into the jet, quickly taking the seat next to Emily, his breath heavy as he took in deep breaths.

The team ceased their conversation, all looking at Spencer in confusion and worry.

“Sorry I’m late, what’s the case?”

Spencer ignored the strange looks and elongated silence.

Hotch quickly broke it.

“We’re heading to Akron, Ohio. We got two murdered couples with the men both being found with used condoms on and Viagra in their systems. In both cases, the husbands were killed with a silenced 9-millimeter, the wife was stabbed multiple times. We’re meeting up with the Akron P.D when we get there. Everything you need is in the file.”

Spencer nodded his head as he grabbed the file from Hotch, opening the papers as the plane took off.

Briskly looking through the file, Spencer began to detail notes in his notebook about possible suspects and details the others may have missed. But as he scribbled, Spencer could feel the stares of Emily, Morgan, and JJ as they all sat by him. Fed up, Spencer lifted his head, flittering his gaze between them all.

“Can I help?”

“Why was you late?”

Spencer looked at Morgan.

“I was at the museum.”

“That’s the truth but why was you late?”

Spencer turned his eyes to Emily, confusion littering his features.

“I was at the museum, I had to get on the subway and get here.”

JJ tilted her head as Spencer looked between the trio.

The weight of their gazes quickly caused him to break.

“I was late because I was at the museum with someone.”

At his statement, everyone on the jet turned towards Spencer. Even Hotch had Spencer’s undivided attention.

Emily twisted to face the genius, a smirk on her face as she crossed her arms.

“Go on Romeo, tell us all about them.”

Spencer knew he could not get out of this. So, he began to begrudgingly tell his team about his day and the person he spent it with.

“Then after the gentleman took our picture, I got the call. I said goodbye and rushed over here.”

The team all looked at Spencer with mixtures of pride and happiness.

“Did you get her number?”

The looks soon turned to disbelief as Spencer bowed his head in shock.

“You had an amazing day with a woman you don’t know, which is something unlike you, and you failed to get her number? Pretty boy, I am very disappointed. I’ve taught you better than that.”

Shaking his head at Morgan’s playful words, Spencer couldn’t help his own disappointment take over. He can’t believe he didn’t ask her for her number. Rossi walked over and patted the man on his shoulder in reassurance.

“At least you got a picture to remember her.”

Spencer slowly nodded, solemnly reaching into his breast pocket to pull the picture out. But, as Spencer looked at the picture, he realised that she had handed him the second picture they had taken.

Spencer looked at the polaroid and couldn’t believe how comfortable he looked with her. Their hands interlaced as Y/N smiled brightly towards the camera. Spencer’s smile was directed towards the woman next time him, warm and content. He had never looked so at peace before. Yet, he still forgot to ask for her number.

As Spencer was about the place the picture back in his pocket, he paused his movement as Hotch spoke up.

“If I was you, I would check the back of that picture Reid.”

Looking at the people in front of him, he could see that they were all now smiling, looking at him expectedly, waiting for the man to look at the back of the picture. Flipping the picture over, Spencer couldn’t help the smile that blossomed over his face. His eyes crinkling from how large it was. On the back of the picture, a message was written.

“Meeting you made me feel part of something much bigger. Something I would love to explore. Give me a call if you want to as well.”

Underneath the message lay Y/N’s phone number.

Spencer lifted his head and looked around at his team. Pointing his thumb over his shoulder, he began to stand.

“I’m just going to…”

Emily pushed him up as the rest of the team laughed.

“Hurry up and call her Spence, no point in waiting!”

Spencer nodded his head in a flurry as JJ shooed him to the back of the jet.

Walking passed the team, Rossi and Derek patted him on the back, as Hotch nodded his head. They were all happy for him.

Walking into the jet’s toilet, Spencer locked the door and pulled out his phone. Flipping the picture in his opposing hand, he quickly dialled the number, clicking the call button before he could change his mind.

Just as he contemplated hanging up, the ringing stopped, and he heard an answer.

“Hello?”

“I want to be a part of something bigger. I want to explore it too.”

“Really?”

Spencer could feel the smile radiating from Y/N over the phone. A breathy laugh leaving his mouth as he realised, he was nodding his head instead of talking.

“Really.”

Spencer was not the type of person to sit in the bathroom on a plane talking to someone on the phone that he only met that morning. Even more so, having met that someone because they sat on the floor of the subway instead of the seats. Yet, here he was, in the bathroom talking to Y/N and getting to know her more. Spencer felt like the Willamette Meteorite. He had been broken and steered down different courses over the years, feeling like he would never be part of anything bigger than the family that was his team. But now, he felt like he was finally going to be a part of something bigger. Something extraordinary.

Never expected to meet you. When I met you I never expected you to become my everything and more than I could have ever dreamed of. - Maria Ana Bulquerin.

A/N- Thank you for the support. If you wish to in anyway, Please donate to the link below.

[dailytatsu]

Heya! Can I request an Aether/Lumine & reader?

So reader is basically an immortal half-elf who've lived for centuries and a well refined fighter. Well at the beginning even tho they volunteered to tag along on traveler's journey to find their sibling, reader is rather obnoxious and a lazy-dork who only help when actually needed. But as the journey continues, they began to act like traveler's bodyguard after witnessing (archon quest spoiler!) traveler almost getting killed by the Shogun? And maybe random shenanigans happen between them (ft.Paimon). I don't mind if you do either Aether or Lumine if you feel pressured 🙏

Hi! This kind are my favorites! Tysm for requesting! (๑>◡<๑)

I did this with Aether since he is my favorite is who I chose, and I feel more comfortable writing with guys than with girls.

I know they have some different personalities but I can help but see Lumine as the all mighty abyss princess.

Hope you enjoy!

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Aether & Half-elf! Reader

GN! Reader

Inazuma Archon Quest Spoilers!

Request are open; sorry for any mistakes!

Genshin Impact Masterlist

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Aether always thought that immortality brought with it wisdom, beings who live for much longer than an ordinary human tend to gain an understanding of life and changes in the world after years of appreciating the passing of the ages.

But when he met you he couldn't help but feel that all his beliefs were based on fiction and old rumors from other worlds. You were anything but wise, not even his first choice to be the voice of reason.

Even Paimon takes her role as his guide seriously.

But what was so wrong about you that get him on his nerves all the time? And most important, why does is he still dealing with you?

To be fair, maybe he was waiting a little too much from you. After all, he always forget that you still have half of a human’s nature.

“Mmh? What are you doing?” You asked Aether the first time he removed your hair from your ears to see if they were pointy. They were, and Paimon yelled kind of a objection when she realize she had to pay for losing their bet.

Not a human, not a elf, but a hybrid between them.

The first encounter was really something he would never forget. Rumors about treasures and requests from the guild made them follow some clues to find a cave that was marked as lost, impossible to enter and explore.

But “impossible” is a word that doesn’t exist their vocabulary. Yet is common that regretting comes along when you’re that bold and risky.

At the very end of that strange cave there wasn’t a treasure waiting, not even a new clue to keep going with the mystery. Instead, was a humanoid silhouette, they seemed to be meditating, not showing a single interest in their voices neither getting nervous because of Aether and Paimon taking some steps forward to have a better look.

But they were breathing, and both could see the pupils moving slightly under their eyelids. Eyebrows twitching now and then, like they were having a nightmare, one of which they couldn’t wake up.

Paimon encouraged him to get even closer to shake that person's shoulder, while she was hiding behind some rocks, obviously.

Aether summoned his sword and then he approached slowly until touching them with his fingertips, waiting for some kind of jumpscare.

The stranger raised their arm, carefully but also in a robotic way. Their fingers were tense, as much that it was painful just looking at them. Like a quiet call, like a order that couldn’t be heard, from the pile of rocks where Paimon was hiding something emerge, breaking through the stone and letting a rusty polearm to be seen.

Their fingers closed around the weapon, bringing them back to reality.

“Master and weapon, reunited again, rise so the world can meet their end!”

Or at least that's what he would have preferred to find. A servant guarding a lost relic, a soulless body moving by a curse, perhaps even a fate that death could not prevent.

But instead it was something really underwhelming, something that broke the mystical and strange atmosphere. That person opened their eyes, annoyed by the light of the torches and disoriented by the situation.

With their body in pain and numb at the same time, how long have they slept in that position?

The first thing they did after waking up was sneezing.

‘So much dust…’

Never accepting missions for exploring legendary caves ever again. Nope. Negative. He refuse to.

What if they find another (Y/N)? Thanks, but no. One is more than enough.

“So what you mean is that your parents' families exiled you and locked you up in the cave for being an ‘abomination’ to both species?” Paimon confirmed once the three of you were back in the surface again. Her hands moving side to side to explain -in a very expressive way- everything you told them.

“It seems that we found the remains of an ancient race that used to exist in Teyvat.” Aether said, still surprised by the way you roamed to feel the wood of the trees and the grass under your bare feet. Kind of heartbreaking.

“Like the boar we found with Xiangling!”

He wasn’t sure if it was okay to compare both encounters but he could see her point.

“… ‘Wait for us’, they told me, ‘think about your existence and find the answer to why your conception is not the atrocity that everyone says you are. May their words not reach you, because we have long ears to hear the words of the gods and not the ones of those who defile earth’… ” You pronounced after decades of not needing to use the language you were taught, with one hand on your chin and eyes closed to concentrate. All you had left was the few memories you preserved inside your mind and heart.

“With ‘they’ you mean your parents?”

You nodded.

“And what happened next?… ” Asked back the tiny companion of the blond guy that rescued you.

“I got bored and I fell asleep.” You admitted, carefree about it, shrugging your shoulders and sighing.

A total waste of your youth.

“Eh!? Then you didn’t thought about those things? That sounded important!” Paimon seemed disappointed for your answer, while Aether held his forehead, without having a clue of how he was supposed to react.

That was the day you joined their party! New team member, (Y/N) strikes in!

Or something like that,,

“H-Hey! We could use a hand over here!… woah!” The little white girl scold you but from your high sit on the top of a big rock only a exaggerated yawning can be heard. Paimon crossed her arms to almost immediately duck down to dodge a fire bullet from the Fatui. Aether didn’t say anything, he was concentrated fighting.

“Oh, yeah… You’re doing great. Go, Aether, go…”

“Was that supposed to be a cheering?!”

“Hey, calm down” You said “He doesn’t need my help. Just take a look, he’s an adventurer. If I meddle it will be really boring for him.”

“Hmp! Now Paimon believes that you were lying when you said that you were a well refined fighter!” She was floating around you, ignoring the battle of his blond friend. Like a pesky bee, the only thing you did was avoiding her furious gaze. “Don’t ignore Paimon! How can you not hear with those ears!? That’s it! Paimon will give you a ugly nickname!”

“What about ‘extinct deaf elf-der’?”

“Yeah, that’s a good one!” She agreed immediately, then she shook her head, pointing at you like a guilty criminal. “Wait, Paimon doesn’t need your suggestions!”

When the last Fatui was defeated Aether turned back to face both of you, sighing because of the new arguing between you two. His sword disappeared and some steps were took to get closer.

Your eyes met each other, a slight smile in your face after looking him safe and sound. So confident but so unaware of the remain danger hiding. Your expression became a surprised one, then your gaze sharped like a killer sight.

You left Paimon on top of the rock when you jumped down, summoning your own weapon you ran straight to where Aether was. The traveler panicked just a fraction of second before loosing sight of you.

Next thing they know was that a you were behind him, facing at the nothing with a defensive pose, just a second of silence before a impact could be heard. Some dirt and dust was lift as the pair of Fatui Pyro Agents became visible again. They stayed there, defeated in one hit.

“Like I said. It would be pretty boring if I meddle...” Aether and Paimon were shocked, none of them felt their presence, not even the heat of the pyro delusion. Your weapon disappeared in the air, and your hands rested on your waist. “Dear Seven, that was intense.” Looking at your friends you sighed, with the laziness on your body language. “It was my turn to cook dinner, right? What a pain having to eat again… ”

Acting that relaxed after that really made them went Ô_Ô and Ö

A silent speech, where devotion and gratitude are the best topics of conversation. The message that is heard even if there’s no words in between. Just a exchange of gazes. Little signs of affection that are shown when it’s necessary.

Your family was gone. No clues about their whereabouts could’ve found in that cave of where you came. Not even the skeletons of a couple holding their hands and petrified in a sobbing position. Not even ashes.

When you have been thinking about the most unimportant things in the universe for so long you can deal with the lost faster than anyone else. Getting the idea of no remain evidence of your parents and feeling that it wasn’t that heartbreaking.

Maybe because you gained a new family almost immediately.

Still you could empathize with Aether, he still had his precious memories with his sister, still remember her face and her voice. And most important was that he knew that she was still roaming Teyvat, waiting for him.

Even if they leave behind Paimon and you at the end of the trip.

Or even if they just leave you behind.

‘I’m okay with that.’

You thought, stroking Paimon’s hair when her head found a comfortable place to rest in your lap. You thought, moving your shoulder so Aether wouldn’t have neck pain. Both sleeping peacefully and you staying awake night by night.

You’ve slept enough, for so long besides.

Somehow the flames of the campfire are warmer now that you have someone to look how the fire dance in the night.

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“I see, so you were serious when you told me that your companion was a mystical extinct creature, weren’t you?” Albedo’s hand went up to hold his chin, analyzing you from distance.

“They are half of it, actually.” Aether answered back, notice how Sucrose was asking you permission to check your features. The sparkle in her eyes made you accept her petition after feeling with the back against the wall.

“Your ears are like mine! Look, look!” Klee pulled your shirt, then she pointed at the side of her head.

“… Still the shape of both are quite different, the length too.”

Years of isolation really are hitting hard right now. You felt overwhelmed and somehow shy when Sucrose hold your face to have a better look.

You follow the traveler to everywhere, no matter the place, you were there. Like a shadow, sometimes just a spectator, other times like an actual active team member.

“Who would’ve tell that our Honorary Knight also has his own knight watching his back.” Kaeya’s voice has that joke but charming tone, as always.

Day after day, it’s the same, everyone talking you through Aether. Like some kind of translator.

“More like a human shield.” Your hand landed on top of Aether’s head, not agreeing with his explanation.

Bonk.

“I guess everything’s better than being Emergency Food.”

“Hey!”

“Haha! You three are quite a team, aren’t you?”

Of course you were. Mondstadt, Liyue, you name it. You could assure that every place in this two nations have at least one story about the team.

You knew that the most brave and magnificent outlander in Teyvat didn’t need a guardian, he can defend himself (somehow even if he’s still using that dull blade).

Bodyguarding also sounds like such a hassle…

You only provide a last resource help when was needed, sometimes also helping with some puzzles and mysteries.

The long eared people was known to be wise and smart people that searched for the full comprehension of the world. Also such a nerds and fans of knowledge. So, even if you considered yourself dumb, in your blood was the instinct of looking for the truth, and sometimes that impulse could be really annoying.

You were always near enough to reach him. Pulling his scarf from behind to move him away from danger. Countering after he gets hit.

Always in a place where you could reach him.

You just needed to extend your arm and you would catch Aether. It was always like this. Always with you jumping in the middle of the crossfire to shield them if it was necessary.

It’s always like this.

Until the day you three set a foot in Inazuma’s land. And a bad feeling of a imminent catastrophe made your shiver.

A new nation, a new problem to solve. But a war? Boldness and stupidity sometimes looks like the same thing, but no matter how many times you repeat this to Aether, he would still ran into problems.

And you would follow him, until your debt is paid, until his travel is done.

It used to be like this.

But then you failed him after being unable to move because of the fear that paralyzed your body. The day Aether faced Shogun Raiden in the ceremony. The day you heard the broken voice of a god inside the Shogun you also fell apart. It was painful, cruel, a void of anger and sadness.

Jumping into danger, without you behind.

You tried to ran between the goddess and your savior, you tried to get closer to at least be useful one last time as the shield you promised to be.

You tried.

But, for the first time, your hand didn’t reach him.

The void of despair and darkness that could be heard inside the Shogun devoured him.

The tears of panic and fear in Paimon’s eyes. The way the Shogun lifted her sword to end his life. The way you were paralyzed because of her presence, forced to be part of the crowd and presence his execution.

That day your facade of laziness faded away, the real feeling of being a knight burnt along your proud. It was so annoying, it was so unnecessary, but still you couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you… are you sure that you’re okay? We don’t have to find the Sangonomiya resistance today. If you need to rest then-” Your hands were shaking when you placed them in Aether’s shoulders, holding yourself for tearing up.

“We have to keep going. I’ll be fine.”

“Besides, if we stay near Inazuma this night they could find us! Paimon won’t be able to sleep like that!” Your mouth opened to counter their arguments, but not a single word dared to go against Aether’s plans.

They could see it in your face. The worry, the remains of shock and fear, the guilty.

“Don’t try to look strong then. If you get tired, tell us. I can carry you in my back.” Even if you were offering help your voice was serious, so cold but so hurt at the same time that nor Aether or Paimon knew what to said to bring the old you back.

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“… Aren’t you coming?” You could hear how the door was slid to let him saw you. The lighted spots on Aether’s clothes were purple, just as the lighting that almost end him. Your lips made a concerned and stressed grimace.

The young traveler took a seat next to you, outside the structure, sitting on the wooden steps and looking at the starry sky. The wind was cold but still the soldiers of the resistance were talking normally and the slight feeling of discommodity because of the excessive presence of other people was climbing up your back.

“(Y/N), there’s no need of guard us every night. You also need to sleep.”

“I'm not tired, I think I've gotten enough sleep, at least not to need it until the next century.”

Aether’s expressions went into a sarcastic one, asking if you were serious with just his gaze.

“That’s not how it works.” He said, trying to change the mood. “And if it does, then why are you always snoozing during the day in every chance you get?”

You had the answer to that, but you weren’t sure about telling him.

“Because everything supposed to be boring. Nothing really changed a lot and… looking at the familiar places was depressing.” So easy, so simple, but still enjoying the company, still enjoying the sound of theirs laughs and their own shenanigans. “… Lately, I’ve been thinking that I should not had left the cave. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate that you two helped me to be back at the surface, and I really want to help you on your journey, but if you still run into the chaos by own decision I think I could not follow you any longer before being a burden in your adventures.”

Overprotection, an unbreakable shield, frequently avoiding fights, always being pulled back to not be part of the battle. Enemies of the braveness of the traveler.

Worry, panic, an overreaction due to fear of loosing everything again.

‘let me do it’, ‘I got it’, ‘wait here’, ‘don’t get close’.

These day could be described like that.

“So, before I do something worse as an excuse of defend you, please let me find a cave to await. You do what’s is needed and… call me back, or leave me there, anything you think it’s better… ”

You could be pronouncing the words from the very bottom of your heart, but still your face was the same seriousness as the accident almost happened.

And even with that you felt his gloved hand removing the hair that was covering your right ear, revealing how it slightly leaned down, showing sadness unwittingly.

“Hey, cut it out… I’m serious about this… ”

“It doesn’t matter if you think that it’s the best option, you’re still sad about leaving.”

“… That’s cheating.” Removing his hand away from your hair you tried to act indifferent.

“You know the reason why we invited you to came along?”

‘You felt sorry for me.’

“I can’t totally tell the exact reason, but it wasn’t for you to pay us some kind of debt because of saving you.” He crossed his arms, looking at the stars, wondering if his sisters was doing the same. “We don’t need a guardian, we need our friend back. And I know you care about Paimon and me, but still you must enjoy the journey. It’s not fair that you are always aware of every potential danger while we mess around lately.”

An eternal silence, your response is late to appear but somehow Aether can tell that you already have something on your mind.

“Then apologize.”

“… Why?”

“For believing that playing as the hero and jumping to face the Shogun was something you had to do.”

“… but-”

Neither Aether nor you slept that night, the blonde had to listen for hours to all the things that you ever wanted to complain about since you arrived in Inazuma.

You made your position on joining the army of the rebellion very clear, you had no intention of fighting to seek "justice" or "peace". Because after all, that fight did not correspond to you, but if he asked you to, you would protect some soldiers or help to guard the barracks, if he asked you to, you wouldn’t complain about it (at least not that much).

Both had enough of each other’s attitude, but it was okay. Because that was what all of you chose in first place.

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.�� She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[caxsthetic]

SLEEP THE NIGHT — miya atsumu

Type: Standalone Movie (One-Shot Fiction)

Cast: Miya Atsumu

Storyline: Tonight, he want to be the best boyfriend that he could be.

Genre: Drama, Slice of Life

He never cooked.

Miya Atsumu never dared to stand in the kitchen because he knew too well what could possibly happen. His twin brother who was now the owner of the infamous onigiri chain always told him that whatever he touched somehow turned into fire.

But he didn't care, at this moment he could only focus on the opened page of his tablet where your favourite food displayed. He tried to find the high rated recipe, even though it was not the simplest one, he just wanted to cook what was best for you.

After all, a perfect woman like you only deserves the nicest thing in life.

You were so patient, always supporting him through every step that he took. Never once you complained about his busy schedule, his almost non-existent presence inside the apartment you shared, or even the way he put you second after volleyball.

Volleyball always came first, that was a fact that you knew since you dated him long ago in high school. He loved the said sport more than anything in the world. His fiery passions, his energy, his time — he gave it all to a sport that he found together with his brother when they were just a silly kid.

And then came you, always silencing all those nosy new supporters when it was time for him to serve. Then came you, helping him answer a question that his teacher threw at him because he fell asleep in class after a harsh tournament.

You, a woman who helped him get through his days as your existence was like a guiding star for him.

He would fall into pieces if you were not there, walking by his side to remind him of time. He needed time to eat, time to rest, time to let loose and hang out with his beloved friends from high school. Atsumu was sure that he would be lost without you there for him.

So just this one time, he wanted to make it right for you.

"You don't have to cook for me, Atsumu." He just hummed to give you a sign that he heard you. "Atsumu, please." But he ignored your plea and continued to read the recipe. He wanted to do something good, something that a perfect boyfriend should do.

You could only let out a sigh as you sat on the kitchen island's stool, eyeing the national setter as he carefully added some ingredients on the pan. He hissed as the oil splashed out a little, hitting his skin that made him go into panic mode.

A chuckle slipped from your lips as you saw him frantically running to the sink, letting out a sigh of relief once he could feel cold water streaming down his hand, easing the pain in an instant. He really tried, today he really tried.

You didn't have the heart to stop him since you knew that once he set his mind on something, he wouldn't care about what anyone else's said. So you just sat there, becoming a company that he wanted, just like you always became for years slipping into his life.

"Come on, Atsumu." He insisted you to stay still as he cooked for you, and you didn't want to hurt his pride by walking toward him without telling him first. "Let me help you." So you asked, hoping that he would accept your proposition.

"Nope! Let me try this on my own." He answered with the same excitement as before and went back to his task. "Just sit there, I am almost done. Promise." Then he calmed down, composing himself so he could cook with a clear mind.

He needed to do it, he couldn't let tonight turn into another day where you ended up being the one who took care of him.

Atsumu turned off the stove before preparing the pristine white plate that would be used to showcase your favourite dish. He smiled in triumph as he looked at the masterpiece. Tonight was the first time he cooked a meal like this, and he couldn't help but be proud of himself for this one achievement.

Though, the glee that he felt right now was nothing compared to the twinkle that was seen in your eyes.

Your lips tugged into a smile as he set down the meal in front of you. He didn't want to eat, no, he wanted to see you first as your hand grabbed the fork. And the second you popped the piece into your mouth, he never felt this happy to see someone he loved enjoying his hard work.

You squealed a little, humming in satisfaction as you tasted the food that the blonde made just for you. It was happiness, written all over your face as you continued to eat, and each bite only made you crave for more.

Maybe this was what Osamu felt, maybe this was the reason why his brother wanted to be in the culinary career. To make people smile, to see the joyful look from your loved one for something that you made.

Wouldn't it be lucky to have the younger twin as a lover? Running a respected business, working together with a dear friend, all bills covered, making something that others could enjoy, things that his lover would cherish at the end of the day.

Truthfully — Atsumu was a little bit jealous of his twin right now.

Because with volleyball, he couldn't do the same. Sure, you were there on almost every match that he had. Yes, there was always a smile on your face as you cheered for him. And of course, you looked so happy as you stood at the stands with pride swelling your chest.

But was that enough to give to a lover?

His winning only belonged to him, it was something that anyone else couldn't enjoy, except maybe his teammate. Unlike food that could be tasted, unlike clothes that could be worn. Volleyball just, well, volleyball. It was a sport that he loved, one that he couldn't share with a lover.

Yet you never changed, you never left him. Even though he couldn't give much, even though he was not that perfect boyfriend who could pay all the bills and buy you expensive gifts — you stayed, for such a long time, patiently there even though he was barely around.

"Atsumu?"

He jolted when his name slipped from your lips. Brown orbs immediately finding yours that filled with concern, face softened at whatever expression that was shown on his facade right now. "Why don't you eat your meal? Do you dislike it now?"

"No, no." He cleared his throat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. "I like it, I like anything that you love, (Y/n)." He wanted to bonk his head for saying such a cliche sentence, but he couldn't help it since it was exactly what he felt.

You only gave him a smile before focusing back to the meal that he made for you. And for him, seeing you like this, so adorable as you shove your favourite food in your mouth — he wished that he did something like this sooner, adding some spices to his endless routine at the court.

Adding you, to his daily routine.

"I am going to clean the dishes, okay?" You said softly as you got up from your seat. Your plate was already empty with how fast you ate the meal. "You already cooked, so let me do this one."

He didn't answer and just ate the rest of the food on his plate. With his speed, he choked a little but kept continuing anyway. He gulped down a glass of water right after his plate was clean without anything on top of it.

"No. Let me be a good boyfriend to-"

"Atsumu."

The setter immediately went silent from the intonation that you used. Stern, yet still filled with warm. He didn't dare to say anything as you grabbed his plate away, afraid that he would ruin the perfect night.

Like what he always did, like all the nights before this.

"Just go upstairs, I will join you in bed once I am done." He didn't move though, eyes fleeting to where you were right now as you walked to the sink.

"You promise?"

You dropped the plate gently, letting out a sigh before turning your face toward him. There it was, a smile that always made him feel at ease. You looked so breathtaking even if you only cladded with old pajamas and hair sticking out like you haven't combed for days.

"I promise, Atsumu."

And with that, he stood up. Knowing for sure that you were a woman of your word.

Atsumu wanted to walk up toward you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he let his face rested on your nape, sniffling your scent as much as he could. But he was afraid, he never did that before, what if you didn't get used to him for being so touchy like that?

He decided to turn his head and ascend to the second floor where the shared bedroom was located. When he thought about it, he was rarely there, sleeping on the same bed with you even though it would be years since he had you as his lover.

Most of the time he was always out, practising until late at night, bonding with his teammates, and decided to crash at his friend's apartment instead since it was too far from his place to their gymnasium. Yet you always reached for him. Making time to give him some healthy lunchboxes and snacks in between your busy hours of work.

He realised that he was such a bad boyfriend.

"Hey, 'Tsumu-"

"You are coming today, right?" He asked with excitement as he zipped his team jacket up. "We are going to play against Suna! Ha, I want to rile him up so much I wonder how he is in the court right now." He looked like a child, gleeful as he looked at his reflection on the mirror. "You gonna be there?"

You could only stare at him, spinning your brain to think about what sentence that you should let out.

"W-Well, of course." You cleared his throat, cursing at yourself for even stuttering. "You promised to take me to that restaurant you reserved after the match too, how could I waste a chance to spend time with my boyfriend?"

And as you saw his face contorted into a shocked one, you knew that you were back in the same cycle all over again. "You forget, didn't you?"

"Fuck, I am sorry." He immediately turned his face toward you, fear coated his eyes. "I forgot to make the reservation and I— shit! I even promised Suna to hang out after that." He immediately took a few steps forward, wanting to cup your cheek as he knew you didn't deserve to be treated like this — from time to time.

"It's okay, 'Tsumu." And this was always the outcome. "Volleyball world comes first, I know. It's alright." For you to be so understanding, for you to realise your place. "Just make it up for me by enjoying your game. Win this game for me, maybe?"

He was relieved that you didn't get angry, most women would kick his ass if he acted like this all the time. But never you, never his (Y/n).

"You know I always win." He chuckled softly, followed by yours as he leaned in to press his lips on your forehead. "And today is nothing different. Why would I need to win for you just today though? The other match wins were all for you too."

"So it's like a routine, then?" Your eyes fleeting to pierce into his brown orbs. "Hey, 'Tsumu, do you have any plan for me today?"

Why did he feel like that question was a trap? With how your eyes filled with hope, he wanted to say that he indeed had a plan for you. But he didn't, and he couldn't lie. Because in the end, you always see right through him. That was proven by how the hope was gone even before he could part his lips.

"I see." There was a little remorse in your tone, and he wanted to cheer you up in an instant. "That's okay, then!" Yet you were the one who cheered him up, didn't want him to worry about anything. "Come on, let's go. I don't want your teammates to be wary if you are late!"

He frowned when he remembered that day. How he dropped you to stay with his twin brother the whole match, the way your eyes glimmered as Osamu gave you a lunch box filled with your favourite filling onigiri. The hug that was shared, that lingered longer as his twin congratulated you a 'happy birthday'.

Atsumu wanted to punch himself when he realised that it was your birthday after all. The reason why you wanted to spend time with him, why you seemed more clingy that day, of course. And yet, he was not the first person who gave you the greetings, even though he was the one who you saw first thing in the morning.

He always wondered about why you decided to stay with him in his free time that was almost non-existence.

How you always let everything slide, how you suck it up and just focus on his well being, how you answer everyone teasing about him being a bad boyfriend — yet you always answered with pride that whatever happened, he was a good one, and you were happy to have him as your boyfriend.

But at one point, anyone must have hit their limit. Right?

"What is clouding in that big head of yours, Atsumu?" You flicked his forehead, and it was like a reminder to him that he had you in his arms right now, laying under the warm blanket in the bedroom that you two shared. "Your upcoming—"

"You." He answered truthfully before averting his gaze from the ceiling to your face. "I was thinking about you, honestly."

There was a flicker of sadness in your eyes, and he wanted to curse at himself for saying something like that out of the blue. "I am sorry, I know that tonight was supposed to be just us enjoying the moment together and not being sappy."

He held your body even closer than before, afraid that you would be gone too soon if he let it loose. His body shifted a little so he could plant a kiss at the crown of your head, eyes fluttering close as he bathed on the scent that reminded him that he would never be alone.

No words were being said after that, just you and him in each other's embrace. Your fingers stayed in his unruly hair, caressing the blonde strands that slowly lulled him to sleep.

But he didn't want to sleep yet. He didn't want to close his eyes. He wanted to savour the moment with you, one that he rarely felt with how he always prioritised volleyball above everything else. Above you, even.

Atsumu rubbed his eyes from time to time, insisting to stay awake and gripped your hips a little tighter than before. Just one more minute, he wanted to feel your warm body cuddling against his skin for a little longer.

"Hey, (Y/n)." He called out, earning a little hum of acknowledgement slipping from your lips. "Can you call me like you used to?"

He could feel how your body went rigid for a second. Your breath hitched, halted as if the request was something that could hurt you. "I understand if you can't though. I am okay if you didn't, I just want to hear it again."

One second, two seconds, everything felt so heavy as he waited for your answer. He wanted to hear his nickname from your lips, it sounds so lovely, not irritating like how his brother called him with the same name.

"Okay, 'Tsumu."

He felt so relieved as he heard his name rolled down your tongue. Happiness, love, comfort, he found it all with the way you called his name. You always use that nickname ever since you dated him, and it felt like a lifetime ago since the last time he heard it from you.

It was just Atsumu now. No more 'Tsumu, just his full first name that still sounded so odd since he still couldn't believe his mind. No, he could believe it. With how much he neglected you, with how much he was never there in your life — he acknowledged it. He just didn't want to.

"You should sleep, 'Tsumu." Your fingers trailed down his cheek as you looked up. "You have practice tomorrow, right?"

You knew all about his schedules, all the things that he allowed to eat and things that he had to do. You printed his routine in the back of your mind, somehow up until now, you couldn't help but care for him.

"Yeah, I have practice tomorrow." He gulped down before booping your nose playfully. "But I want to stay awake a little more. If that's too much to ask?"

He mustered his puppy eyes, pouting a little and tightening his embrace around you. This was your weakness, to see him all clingy like this. And when you let out a sigh and giggle, he knew that he got you.

"God, I love you so much to resist you, you know that?" You whispered out under your breath. But then as if you knew in an instant what you had said, you cleared your throat. "Okay, I give in. Stop giving me that puppy eyes, Atsumu."

"Sorry, sorry." He smiled sheepishly before resting his head comfortably on the pillow once again, securing you in his embrace as you laid back on his chest. "One more question, (Y/n). And then I promised I would zip my mouth after that until we fell asleep."

"Alright, shoot."

He frowned a little, eyes scanning the unfamiliar ceiling. He was not supposed to feel like a guest in his own place. Yet as he saw the beige coloured ceiling with some starlight sticker, he didn't feel right. Yeah, it was the price that he had to pay for rarely here in this apartment with you.

"From scale zero to ten, how perfect of a man I am today?"

He heard a sigh, another one slipped from you. Atsumu could count how many times you had sigh because of him, and he really wished that he could make you laugh instead of giving you headaches like this. "Don't sugarcoat though, I just needed the truth."

"Ten." You answered without doubt, yet as he looked down, wanting to see your eyes, you didn't look up. "Not just today, you always had a perfect score as a man. Passionate, have a big dream, would do anything to achieve it. If not I am not going to be your girlfriend for so long."

Ah, he just realised that he used the wrong term in his question.

"Let me rephrase it, (Y/n)." He closed his eyes, thinking if he was ready to hear the truth or not. "From scale zero to ten, how perfect of a boyfriend I am today?"

You clutched the tight shirt that he wore at his question, burying your face on his chest to hide yourself. He raised one of his eyebrows in confusion, didn't know why you couldn't answer it. Maybe it was that bad, maybe he could never be a good boyfriend after all.

"Perfect." He almost couldn't hear your answer with how it muffled on his shirt. "You are so perfect today, 'Tsumu."

Though he could hear it so clearly, the answer. He wanted to hear the other statement, of how he was always a perfect boyfriend, just like how you told him he was a perfect man. But of course it was not possible, he never became a lover that you could be proud of.

All these time, you complimented him, you showed to the world his capability. His skill in volleyball, his soft side toward his brother, how loyal he was to his friends — but you never said anything about how good of a boyfriend he was.

It was just all about him, not how he treated you.

"Hold me," He pleaded, biting his lips since he didn't want his voice to waver. "Hold me tighter than usual." His voice sounded like a whisper as he held you close, and he wanted you to do the same. "Please?"

Miya Atsumu was not someone who liked to beg, he knew you always gave what he wanted anyway. "Just tonight." But he wouldn't gamble anything right now. "I just need it tonight."

He swallowed down the tears that entreating to escape from his eyes. With how your arm moved to hold him close, caging him in a circle filled with comfort, maybe this was enough to be remembered.

Maybe this was enough to be remembered forever.

"I love you, 'Tsumu."

You sat in the living room with your head hanging low, hands covering your face as you didn't have the courage to look up at where your boyfriend sat. "But I am… Tired."

This was the first time he saw you cry. No, the first one was when he won national all those years ago in high school as he screamed at you that he won for you too. But never like this, the tears you shed right now was different from back then. "I tried, I really want to stay with you, to kiss you every morning, to cuddle with you under the blanket."

He couldn't say anything, heart thundering as he knew what would happen next. He was not stupid, of course everyone had their limit, and after years went by with a stagnant pace in the relationship — of course you were going to hit it, sooner or later.

"But you are never there, 'Tsumu."

You finally looked at him, and you could feel your heart shattered even more when you saw his expression. He was dumbstruck, tongue-tied. It was as if he knew that this day would happen, but he still didn't want to believe it.

He didn't want to believe that one day you would get tired of being second in his life.

"Does that mean…" He couldn't ask, knowing the answer to his next question. But he needed to make sure. "Does that mean you want to end this?"

The sunlight that slipped in between curtains was the one who woke him up. He hissed as it reached his eyes, forcing him to wake up. But he closed his eyes once again, stirring his body a little to wrap his arms around you, wanting to feel the warm that your body radiated.

Yet he was only met with cold.

And that was the thing that woke him up in an instant.

His breath laboured as he sat on the bed, brown orbs scanning the room that he shared with you. No, you didn’t just leave, right? But he scanned the room, again and again, searching for any kind of sign that you were still there.

Then again, who was he anyway, to know the signs. He was never here, he could count how many nights that he slept here with you. Atsumu didn’t even remember there were any photographs of you and him together hanging on the wall, he didn’t even know the time you decided to put some starlight sticker on the ceiling, he didn’t know what was the difference between this morning and the others.

Though one thing that he knew for sure, you would always be there when he woke up here.

“Then, please. Give me just one day! I just need one day of your life.”

Atsumu knew that this morning would come, when emptiness met him and reality sinked in as he remembered all the flaws that he had. His feet dragged him out from the bedroom that now felt suffocating for him. He needed you, he had to see you.

“But, Atsu—”

“I will prove it to you! I promise that I’ll make things right for you.”

It was so quiet, there was no music playing on the soundbar. You used to play some upbeat songs to fill the silence as you waited for him to show up after shower. Yet as he walked down the stairs, he could only hear his own footsteps.

“And then you can leave. You can sneak out when I am asleep. You know how much of a heavy sleeper I am, right?”

But then, he was right from the start.

“Alright, Atsumu. I will give you one more night.”

You were indeed — a woman of your words.

MASTERLIST

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