#but sometimes you gotta fill in the gaps with your own ideas

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

Me four years ago: Crap I gotta do a shit ton of research on speedster physiology for this scene

*6 1/4 hours later*

… None of that helped anything

Me now: Lol this is true because I said so. MY FIC MY RULES BITCHES

[muiitoloko]

Kingsman Chronicles

Summary: Amidst Christmas festivities, a mischievous Eggsy attempts to play matchmaker between Harry and the reader, strategically placing mistletoe to encourage a romantic moment.

Pairing: Harry Hart (Kingsman)× fem!Reader

Warning: none.

In the festive glow of Christmas lights, Harry's house buzzed with warmth and laughter as Merlin, Eggsy, and You gathered to celebrate the holiday. The scent of pine and cinnamon filled the air, and a crackling fireplace added to the cozy atmosphere.

Merlin, clad in a Christmas sweater adorned with geeky references, raised his glass. "To a successful year and a well-deserved break," he toasted, a twinkle in his eye.

Eggsy, sporting a festive jumper that may or may not have had a bit too much eggnog spilled on it, chimed in. "Cheers to that, mate. And to Harry, for surviving another year of saving the world."

Amidst the festive atmosphere, Harry and You found themselves entangled in the unspoken dance of mutual affection. Both hesitant to confess their feelings, a palpable tension lingered between them, amplified by the Christmas spirit that enveloped the room.

Eggsy, with his own version of holiday cheer and a mischievous glint in his eye, decided to take matters into his own hands. Fueled by the idea of bringing you and Harry closer, he hatched a plan involving strategically placed mistletoe.

First, Eggsy attempted to discreetly place mistletoe over the doorway, hoping that Harry and You would walk beneath it. However, Merlin noticed the attempt and shook his head, muttering about subtlety.

As the festive atmosphere continued, Eggsy's determination to play cupid remained unyielding. Unbeknownst to Harry and You, he discreetly placed another mistletoe near the Christmas tree, hoping to create an opportune moment.

Merlin, observing Eggsy's antics, sighed but decided to play along. "You know, subtlety is an art form," he commented, his tone dry.

Eggsy winked, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Well, Merlin, sometimes you gotta be a bit bold with matters of the heart."

Meanwhile, Harry and You found yourselves drawn closer, the holiday cheer creating a magnetic pull. The unspoken tension lingered, a dance of emotions beneath the surface.

As the clock struck midnight, signaling the arrival of Christmas Day, the twinkling lights cast a magical glow over the room. Eggsy, seizing the moment, decided to make a grand gesture.

"Everyone, gather 'round! It's time for the annual Christmas karaoke!" Eggsy declared, orchestrating a diversion to lead Harry and You to the strategically placed mistletoe.

As the group joined in the festivities, you found yourself standing beside Harry, the mistletoe hanging above like a subtle invitation. A knowing smile passed between you, acknowledging the unspoken connection.

Eggsy, ever the enthusiastic matchmaker, winked at Merlin, who simply shook his head in bemusement. The stage was set for a moment that could potentially bridge the gap between Harry's duty as a Kingsman and the vulnerability of his heart.

Eggsy pointed to the mistletoe with a mischievous grin. "Come on, you two! Tradition's tradition, innit?" he urged, fully embracing the role of the festive instigator.

Harry, feeling the weight of the situation, attempted to gracefully sidestep the expected kiss, insisting that it didn't mean anything. However, Eggsy, fueled by the spirit of Christmas and a dash of mischief, wouldn't hear of it. "Nah, Harry, you can't go breakin' tradition. We're all expectin' it!"

Merlin, usually the voice of reason, surprisingly sided with Eggsy, adding, "Indeed. Tradition must be maintained."

Harry, shooting an exasperated look at Merlin, contemplated how to navigate the awkward scenario. He sensed your discomfort, silently pleading with his eyes for some sort of intervention.

As the group playfully urged Harry to fulfill the Christmas tradition, you surprised everyone, especially Harry, by grabbing his face and pressing a quick, almost chaste kiss to his lips. It was a gesture that held a hint of enchantment, leaving Harry momentarily captivated.

You pulled away, a sheepish smile playing on your lips. Harry, however, found himself pursuing your lips for a moment longer, the unexpected connection stirring a mix of emotions within him.

He, still under the lingering spell of the unexpected kiss, found himself leaning in for another, only to be interrupted by Eggsy's exuberant antics. As Eggsy pulled Harry away, calling him a stud and advising him to save the celebration for a more private moment, you blushed and playfully hit Eggsy on the arm.

"Eggsy, you're ruining the moment!" you exclaimed, laughter bubbling in your voice.

Harry, still caught in the whirlwind of emotions, shot Eggsy a mock stern look. "You have a knack for impeccable timing, Eggsy."

Eggsy, undeterred, grinned. "Just lookin' out for you, mate. But seriously, save the romance for when Merlin and I make our exit. We don't need to witness all that lovey-dovey stuff."

Merlin, observing the playful exchange, raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I should be concerned or entertained."

Harry, regaining his composure, chuckled. "Let's indulge Eggsy's theatrics for a bit, and then we can have our private celebration."

As Eggsy continued to tease, Harry stole a glance at you, a spark of affection in his eyes. The interruption couldn't dampen the connection that had sparked beneath the mistletoe. The promise of a more intimate celebration lingered in the air, creating a warmth that transcended the festive chaos.

[txttletale]

This is not meant as a gotcha- and it's totally fair if the answer is 'idk' because it's not your responsibility to be the sole person who figures out all the kinks in the proposed idea, but if you already have thoughts on it I'm curious: you've mentioned a communal child-autonomy focused style of raising kids rather than nuclear family with stringent abusive "parental rights" and my only concern with that is healthcare. Kids don't understand why they have to get shots that hurt which keep them safe from polio, but because their parents are legally allowed to drag them to doctor offices and MAKE them sit there and get these shots, we almost eradicated polio entirely up until ableist anti-vaxx moms messed it up for everyone. But I digress.

I'm all for eroding parents rights which are used mainly for abuse. But what about dentistry, vaccines, life-saving surgeries, etc? It sucks that these are done through coercion and force, but that's the only way most 5 year olds will let it get done because these concepts are too complicated and long-term for most children to comprehend. Do you have any thoughts on a balance for that problem while still respecting children's autonomy more? Something closer to faith in community, blind trust to let them fill in cavities? I don't know that I'd agree with letting a kid stubbornly waste away because they can't understand wide-spread infection, in the name of autonomy, even though once someone does understand the concept I'm strangely okay with being sad but letting someone refuse to take care of that aspect of their own health without any forceful measures. I guess it's the knowledge gap that really gets me. For death with dignity you gotta have informed consent, which means the person has to truly understand the medical advice and treatment they're refusing, and many kids simply cannot do that. It's a wrench in the cogs of my understanding your ideas. Thoughts?

obviously i am very harshly skeptical of rhetoric that children need their autonomy violated 'for their own good' but obviously there are situations where, for example, extremely young children cannot feed themselves or locomote and are physically incapable of autonomy -- but i think this is where a family abolitionist view is most useful, because it prevents you from defaulting to 'family' as the solution -- strip all the cultural baggage from the institution of parenthood and you realise that when faced with the problem "sometimes, children cannot physically excercise autonomy, or might be too young to recognise their exercise of autonomy is harming others (e.g. vaccines)", it is actually an insane and silly solution to say "every child should have 1-2 designated Autonomy Violators, assigned at birth and for life, with no qualifications, training, etc".

[bunnakit]

🥐 bake me please eps 1-4 thoughts, feelings, etc.

ok i didn't plan to make anything like this for anything other than last twilight but this show also makes me feel so much, just in a totally different way.

i know there's kind of mixed feelings about bake me please and i think one of the largest critiques i've seen is how things feel rushed or out of place - and to an extent i agree, however, this show is only going to be 6 episodes so there are going to be elements they won't be able to touch on quite as much.

bake me please wants you to do a lot of reading between the lines and filling in the gaps based on context clues given to us throughout the show. for example, the large one i see people commenting on is how sudden guy's departure feels - and sure, it absolutely does BUT in that very same episode we get his confession to peach that he's always wanted to bake cakes.

we don't know quite how long this place has been in business but it's certainly long enough to establish a name and reputation for themselves. if we assume guy has been here this entire time with shin that's months and perhaps even years of setting aside his own dreams and desires for his best friend. and i'm also sure there's the question of favoritism.

oab's feelings for shin are a not very well kept secret, it reads on his face in every interaction and every moment he jumps to shin's defense when shin is being a dick. i'm sure guy can't help but wonder if maybe he DOES make better cakes, but shin has been chosen for the role because of oab's feelings for him.

and then we get to his departure. i'm sure it can be read into he's leaving just because his feelings for peach aren't reciprocated but i read it much more as someone who has been hurdling towards a breakdown for a long time and this was the minor inconvenience that drove them into a meltdown. sometimes we let things pile up, we bear the load and grit our teeth and handle everything until that one minor thing tips the scale and we just can't take it anymore. through no fault of peach, i think he was that scale. guy realized he can't keep doing this, he can't keep coming in second place. he has to do something to stop this endless cycle.

then there are comments that it was overly dramatic and sure maybe they ramped it up a bit but here's the thing - everyone shin has ever loved has abandoned him.

shin didn't grow up with warmth and love like peach, he didn't have someone to teach him how to love. he was left behind by his own parents and grew up in an orphanage where his only source of comfort were the cakes shin's grandmother made. the only love he knows is through food, not communication. shin's cakes are his best attempt at sharing his feelings with the world (until he meets peach.)

so when guy says he's going to leave? shin equates that with forever, because the people that leave his life never come back. i don't think there was ever any thought in his mind that they could remain friends, it likely seemed impossible to him because when people leave they don't come back. so, shin shut those doors behind guy and shielded himself from the pain he knew was coming. he drove guy away before he would have to face the pain of never hearing from him again.

and i don't think guy ever intended to abandon shin. i genuinely think guy just wanted to pursue his dream but maintain his friendships, and there's nothing wrong with that. you gotta find your spot to shine in.

which brings me to today's episode so spoilers for episode 4 i guess.

i don't know that shin has ever had a dream. we don't really see him talk about his goals or aspirations or what he wants to accomplish - all we really know is he likes what he does, he likes baking and that stems from the way it made him feel as a child. but is that what he wants to do forever? does he want to open his own bakery? i don't think shin knows.

i think the idea of a dream is something he can't quite comprehend and so when peach brings up his dream we see him grow defensive - "you don't want to open a shop with me?"

peach never said that, but the last time someone brought up chasing their dream they left, and i think that has scared shin. i think he wants to be part of peach's dream but he doesn't know how, he doesn't know where he fits in. i think he's scared that this dream will take peach away from him just like it did guy.

i can't really defend shin on him wanting to keep things a secret because, like, baby everyone knows. i know you don't want to mix your personal and work lives but sadly they're already intertwined. and i understand you don't want to hurt oab but the things is all you're accomplishing is hurting both oab and peach. sometimes you hurt people, through no fault of your own, and that's okay. you just have to live with that.

and here's what i both hate and enjoy. i hate it as a lover of shin and peach and their relationship but i love it from a narrative standpoint. we see shin regress, we see him grow cold and distant in his hurt and distrust. it's realistic; people don't change overnight, love is powerful but it's not that powerful. it makes sense that shin would regress and throw up walls, it makes sense that he would grow defensive, especially with everything that has been going on. does my heart hurt? absolutely, but i get it.

i think what we're going to begin to see is a shift in shin's priorities. i suspect the next few episodes are going to be shin wrestling with what's most important to him and realizing all the ways peach has touched his life and left that touch behind. shin's world is tilted on it's axis right now because of peach and it's going to take him some time to learn how to walk again. whether peach accepts him back is likely going to depend entirely on how much accountability shin takes in this.

not that peach is blameless. he shouldn't have lied to shin - i think he absolutely still should've gone to that dinner but i think he should have been honest with shin about it. do i think shin would've understood? no, not really, but at least there wouldn't be any further lying between them. i do get it, though. shin insisting peach can't be friends with guy just because he's angry with him is absurd. my husband has plenty of friends i don't care for and you know what i do? i don't talk to those friends. easy peasy.

sigh and now we get to chef guy. listen, i'm gonna be the number one chef guy defender until i die. was what he did okay? no it was pretty fucking petty. i think guy is lashing out in his hurt. sometimes losing a friend is so much more painful than losing a lover and i think it's really hurt guy a lot, and then for him to see the way shin is treating peach? the man they both love? i think he got protective and petty and vindictive and maybe he wanted shin to feel a little of what he felt. i'm not excusing it - it was a dick fucking move - but there is a reason he did it.

i guess the thing i'm trying to say in all this babbling is that while bake me please is warm and soft it's also so full of so many broken pieces trying to slot together. everyone in this show is broken in one way or another; from familial expectations to abandonment to unreachable dreams and living in someone's shadow. when you pick up a pile of broken pieces and try to slot them together you're going to get it wrong, some pieces aren't meant to go together, and it's going to take time and work and effort to find the ways in which they do. the bakery boys just need time (and preferably a whole heaping pile of communication.)

and listen, i'm not saying the show is perfect. the pacing is a bit fast, i'd love to see what they could do in 12 episodes rather than 6, and the fucking toyota ad today in the middle of such a serious moment was absolute ridiculousness, but i do think it's still a show worth watching. it has a lot of love to give if you're willing to read the clues and fill in the gaps.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

4, 24 and 32 for the writer ask meme 💖💖

Thank you dear, I hope you're having a good day. <3

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Beloved. I really love that the internet has adopted it to describe things they love. I know that sometimes frequent use of a word can dilute its meaning and significance but I don't think that's the case here. I don't use it much for terms of endearment in fics, but boy oh boy does it make me foam at the mouth with insane joyful emotion. The world is full of beloved people and things! Beloved! BELOVED!!!!

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

With both fanfic and original work I tend to let things percolate in my head. Gotta age it like a fine wine. Turn it around like a rotisserie chicken. I have far more ideas than I could ever actually write, so I've found that letting an idea sit for a bit is a good way of figuring out if I really want to write about it or not. Either it'll fade, or I'll start to fixate as it haunts me, and I have to get it out.

As far as the actual prep work, it really depends. Some stories, like the Reincarnation AU, I do a lot of research. I'm a nerd and love researching and going down rabbit holes so this is a lot of fun for me. There's often a lot that ends up on the cutting room floor because it doesn't work to keep it in the story, but I love learning about it all anyway.

Original stories, I outline, even though the outline is very simple: "this happens then this happens then this happens." Fanfiction is much more chaotic. I write things entirely out of order. I come up with new ideas as I'm writing. I text everything to @extasiswings with no warning. A lot of this is the percolating I mentioned. It's rare I sit down and bang out a fic all at once nowadays. Usually I'm writing down little snippets, ideas, and bits and bobs for a while (while, again, throwing it all at Chapel like a pile of cooked spaghetti) as the fic slowly comes together before I sit down and fill in the massive gaps in a sprint.

I'm sooooooo organized.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

Give me blood and rage and

a heart for horror; teach me to be

tough enough to face this world

still standing. Make a Fury of me.

~ Elizabeth Hewer, from Finding Ariadne in Wishing for Birds

I have pretty severe anxiety, and I care more than I should about what other people think. I first read this line in a tumblr post ages ago, and it was just so much what I wanted to be, who I wanted to be.

If you peeled back the layers of the main characters in my original stories, this is what you'd find at the heart of all of them. This is the gestalt of their being. The world likes to throw a lot of horrible things at us, and we've all got our own pain we're trying to rise above. It takes a lot of courage to find strength and keep going, and I think at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to do.

[joy-returns-in-the-morning]

Thinking about Marvel movies again... Like yes the movies were bad. So in Ironman 2 I think there's a throwaway visual of a newspaper that claims Ironman has singlehandedly solved the war in the middle east. There is NO WAAAY lmao and really in the first movie too they fail to engage with the situation in Afghanistan in any meaningful way. It's stupid! It's frustrating! It's american military propaganda! But!! I dunno!!! There are some things in the MCU that still just absolutely captivate me. I can't deny it. For Ironman it's like - how do you overcome your past? When you've wasted your whole life being a terrible person can you really turn that around? Can you really do better? But you HAVE to do better. And one can argue he's going about it completely the wrong way (and he is a cringefail loser really), but he IS trying. That's why I like Ironman and not Dr Strange, I think. And for Captain America - oh I love the whole time travel aspect. A guy from the 40s finding himself in the present - isn't that fascinating?! Like he grew up small and dirt poor in the great depression. He had every disease and managed to pull himself through art school. Then he went to war and he couldn't have been older than his late 20s. Well, you wouldn't realize that from the movies. I think about it a lot though. Growing up poor in Brooklyn, that's gotta have an effect on a man. And Loki - he finds out that his entire life is a lie and that by birth he's the very monster his brother and friends were ready to destroy and what do you even DO with that ya know? And they go through so much, Thor and Loki, and at times they are diametrically opposed but they're still BROTHERS and you can't just throw all that love away, all that history and intimancy and they know each other better than anyone, but did they really? Ouuugh it just really gets to me okay? And there are so many interesting things in the mcu and I've daydreamed about it all so so much but the movies just. Ultimately. Do not care. About the same things I do. And that's okay, people rarely do. Care about the same things I do I mean. It's still fun for me to think about. Like it doesn't have to be perfect because the gaps give me room to explore ideas of my own. It gives me space to make it my own, to fill it with my own meanings. So I can excuse a lot of plot holes but even I have my limit. After Endgame I got sick and tired of having to explain away bad plot decisions. Captain America would NOT do that. Thanos is an idiot. Sometimes the premise is just fundamentally flawed. There's no saving it no matter how much I daydream. So I don't really keep up with marvel anymore. But... I still do think about it from time to time. It could have been so interesting.

[zannolin]

18, 20, 23

18. how do what you look for in your own writing vs someone else’s coincide? how does your writing influence your reading?

good grammar. GOOD GRAMMAR. good fucking grammar. please god let the grammar be good. if i see passive voice used unnecessarily i will just start killing. anyone who has had to listen to me talk about writing knows this. outside of that. i don't really know what i'm "looking for" in my writing i think i'm just writing to expel the demons from the washing machine rinse cycle of my brain. when i read, i want to be able to tell that the author cared, and not just cared about the story they were telling, but cared enough to tell it well. cared enough to know what to leave it and what to take out. you know the t kira madden tweet.

i think i tend to gravitate towards more highly specific stories because of my writing (ann patchett books, for example, or niche aus in the realm of fanfic) but i dunno i'm willing to read a lot. i can tell you how my reading influences my writing but i've never considered the other way around.

20. where do you begin a WIP? ex: a mood, a scene, a certain character dynamic, etc. does this differ per project?

it varies. usually i will be watching/reading/etc something else and go hey this vibe fits x character and it can spiral from there. this is how the gospel tent au was born (i watched an episode of x files and the plot spun itself out pretty wild from there). generally i see the parts that work and figure out how to thread them together differently to fit what story i want to tell. for non-specific aus or canon universe writing it's usually i happen to have a lot of scene ideas build up and i put them all together like a jigsaw puzzle. sometimes i'll want to fill the missing pieces (this is what my mithan fic is a combination of: gap in canon and a ton of scene ideas). sometimes it's purely an aesthetic or motif or character dynamic that niggles at me til i write something. the leon and claire fic i posted today was purely me feeling unhinged over their dynamic in infinite darkness and wanting to explore it. i dunno i'm a jack of all trades. my brain will just start monologuing and i have to write it down or forget it immediately.

23. what do you do to engage with your projects which isn’t actually writing? ex: playlists, pinterest boards, etc. how much do they play a role in the development of your work?

i USED to do playlists for my fics (and just in general) but i don't tend to do that much anymore. i do sometimes make playlists specifically for brainrot though i use my ipod more than spotify so i don't really know Why. there's one for cat's cradle which, huge L. there's one for the ABBA au. there's a l'manberg one lurking somewhere but i think i made that one secret or something. there's a winters family playlist i occasionally yeet stuff on and i also have a playlist of songs i want my writing to feel like which is incredibly self indulgent but fun. the playlists don't really do much they're just for fun and good for stealing lyrics for chapter titles.

i do pinterest boards for a lot of aus as well which is a good way to scroll around until i get inspiration and/or to find things i was keeping on hand for epigraphs. i also doodle stuff for my writing sometimes bc well somebody's gotta make me fanart and it looks like it's gonna have to be me. drawing is good for conceptualizing designs if i need them like for the final girl au but mostly everything is just for fun and can be used as a successful procrastination method to avoid Actually writing.

ask game.

[riddlerosehearts]

🐍No worries! I'm likely going to be slower at responding too since school's getting busier again, but I always enjoy reading your answers!

Oh man I didn't even remember that part about Athena kids (it's been really long since I last read the series) but yeah that'd make things even more complicated... especially if like, Jamil has to learn to fend off these monsters on his own since a young age and be able to take care of Kalim, I'd think he'd have to quickly learn to be just far away enough from Kalim so that if any monsters attack, he'd be the only one harmed instead of Kalim, which is just awful. I love your suggestions for their godly parents though, they all fit so well but nemesis kid jamil is like extra angst: he's a child of revenge, he probably wants revenge for his life being the way it is, yet he's bound by his position and can literally do nothing about it unless he snaps from the pressure.

I went through your valdangelo tag and there's so much good stuff there! The heavy focus on romantic relationships in HoO felt like Rick just really wanted to pair everyone off before everyone had a chance to develop as an individual or explore other types of relationships with the rest of the cast. I found myself disappointed in several characters and longing for what could've been, even though the pjo series is dear to me. But the beauty of fandom is people can fill in those gaps or rewrite things and the valdangelo stuff definitely counts.

I think Leo wouldn't be putting tons of outward accessories on his uniform but he might add several secret pockets to stores things in, since in this AU I assume he doesn't have the toolbelt. If it's hotter outside he might just wear the vest unbottoned and no blazer, just bc I don't think they allow students to wear zero dorm colours haha. I do think he's likely the type to roll up his sleeves a lot though! And he likely enjoys the PE uniform far more than the usual one. Speaking of which I think Leo'd enjoy the lab classes more since they involve getting hands on and making stuff! And Nico might enjoy the ceremonial robes while Leo'd find them too bulky and stuffy and be on his way out to change the moment any ceremony is over.

I feel like I'm running out of interesting questions to ask about the AU (curse my lack of writing creativity) but I'm starting to work on some doodles and hope to show you eventually! In the meantime if you have any more headcanons for either of Leo or Nico or literally any other PJO characters in TWST please feel free to share them/make posts! I don't get lots of posts on my dash these days so it's easy to find yours, I'd love to hear more of your ideas. (Did I mention I was living vicariously through your PJO reread since I want to do it too but just can't make the time? Your commentary is great ❤)

sorry this reply took even longer LOL, if you've seen me keep posting but not replying i hope it didn't seem like i was ignoring you. just gotta find the time/energy to answer asks and messages sometimes.

yeah, annabeth talks about it when she's telling percy how much she hates her dad and her stepmom in TLT and it lowkey made me feel sympathy for frederick chase on my reread, just because i really don't know what i would do in the situation that athena put him in lol. of course, he still should've done better to make sure annabeth felt loved and secure even if he hadn't wanted a baby. but i also got to thinking about how that would affect riddle and i feel like it'd be so rough because it's like, at first his mother might think it's good that her child is blessed by the goddess of wisdom because he'll be a natural genius and easily be able to become a doctor just like she wants. but then monsters would start to attack and she'd see it as him bringing danger to their family and anyone else around them. just imagine what it would be like if when he sneaks out with trey and chenya, they get attacked and she finds out about it... also agree with what you said about athena kid jamil. nemesis kid jamil would also be crazy though, because just look at the list of powers we know nemesis herself has:

and while we've only ever seen two nemesis kids in canon, one of whom we know basically nothing about, we do know that ethan nakamura may have tychokinesis because as also explained by the riordan wiki: "this might explain his lucky hit to percy's weak point, which nobody but percy knew at the time."

so like, imagine if jamil inherited that ability too and he knew that in theory he could give himself just a little bit of good luck or give kalim a little bit of bad luck, just to get a tiny bit of revenge, but he doesn't know what exactly might happen and his position makes it too risky to try anything.

honestly, i think i would've been happy if every single romantic relationship in HoO (aside from percabeth of course because it was pre-established. and i guess maybe jasiper too just because it has relevance to piper's arc) had just been developed as a friendship, with hints of it becoming romantic toward the end. like how blood of olympus hints that nico and will like each other, but they really aren't clearly established as actually dating until trials of apollo. and speaking of trials of apollo, i know all of rick's post-PJO series are kind of contentious in the fandom, but i love TOA and this is a big part of why: while there is some solangelo and caleo stuff and of course apollo's past romances are discussed, the platonic/familial dynamic between apollo and meg is by far the most important relationship in that series. and i wish the friendships between the seven were written as well as i feel like theirs is. they all just don't feel nearly as close as they should for the most part.

this discussion about how nico and leo would wear the school uniform reminded me that i once came across a chart of how all the canon students wear it. i went back and found it just now: link. and from the looks of it, yeah, everyone, even kalim and jamil despite how much extra stuff they've added, wears either the blazer/coat or the vest so that their dorm colors are visible somewhere... except for idia lol. even ortho basically wears it post-book 6 but idia is the only student who literally wears just absolutely none of the uniform except for the pants. i agree with everything you said about leo! also, i love the cermonial robes, they are peak aesthetic. i had ceremonial robes idia on the home screen for weeks when i first started the game.

if you wanna ask me about anything else related to pjo or twst or other things i post about feel free to! i'm glad you don't have trouble finding my posts because i usually post so much that i worry about anons i reply to getting buried haha. also, glad you're enjoying my silly little commentary on my reread LOL. i've been going a bit slower than i'd like because i've had some stuff going on irl + started reading another book at the same time as well. but i'd been wanting to reread the series for a while and finally got started because i felt disappointed at all the stuff the tv show left out or changed. somehow the lightning thief musical still prevails as the most accurate adaptation.

hmm, as for other thoughts about the crossover... i just remembered that in one of my earlier replies i said i wanted to sort luke castellan and alex fierro into dorms but couldn't decide where to put them! so, here's some thoughts on that now:

luke - based on the dorm analysis i linked before, i keep getting the vibe that savanaclaw makes the most sense for him. he certainly has the tenacity, ambition, and athleticism to fit in there, and with how admired and respected he was at camp half-blood prior to his betrayal, i could see him becoming dorm leader. i also feel like to mirror PJO canon he would eventually overblot... and probably die from it in an incident that the school would absolutely try to cover up.

alex - she's genderfluid and is a girl most of the time but again we'll let her into NRC for AU purposes. alex is very clever, cunning and sharp-witted and is even associated with snakes. so i initially wanted to place her in scarabia before remembering that she's also pretty reckless and hotheaded lol. not exactly the embodiment of scarabia's emphasis on careful planning and deliberation. he even canonically hates big parties. i actually think he'd also fit well into savanaclaw! i can see him getting along well with ruggie.

and another random thought i had about nico: i bet he loves what a big deal halloween is at NRC. whether he stays in ignihyde or goes to ramshackle, he's going to be so ready to go all out with decorating the dorm and picking out costumes. and i can imagine him hanging out with the ghosts, trying to give them the best halloween they could have.

[txxfiles]

Mood: Extremely Stubborn and Suspicious

Hello, you missed me last month. I’m an ancient beast from the dawn of time and have no idea how to post properly so my Jan entry has vanished - thank you, thank you. It truly is remarkable to be as inefficient as me. So I’ll introduce myself THIS month. I am Maple. Hear me roar.

This week, my job is that special brand of demanding that comes boxed-up-special-offer with a stonking share-size bag of sleep deficit. The monkey on my back grows blubbery and large with my delicious, wasted, waking time. I’m tired. And It feels like there’s always too much to do and not enough time to do it in. But that’s what February always feels like, right? Or is it March now? There it all goes again. I’ve had absolutely one of the worst days of my career and not-surprisingly but unbearably unfairly - it is not my fault. I think part of growing up, getting older, climbing that rickety capitalist ladder of human-worth, is coming to terms with the fact that 90% of your adult life is just absolutely taking the fucking ‘L’. The ‘L’s come in all different fonts, shapes, sizes and colours - and you’ve just gotta take ‘em. Just take them. Take them and place them down gently in the garden of beautifully blossoming ‘L’s you’ve been maintaining since leaving highschool and crack on with your day. I’ve got a botanical 'L' equivalent of a supermall carpark and I’m still so bad at it. Every ‘L’ just thwacks me in the face. And the issue with that is that it makes me want to fight someone. The other part of growing up is learning that you can’t fight everyone. Very rarely can you fight anyone at all. Even when it unsurprisingly and unbearably unfairly - isn’t your fault. So here I am. Not fighting a single soul, feeling shit and blogging about it.

This blog was, I guess, my idea. I wanted some kind of record of how we were all feeling across the year. I seem to find myself rounding off each circuit of the sun remembering the bad instead of the good. Isn’t that the saddest but most relatable human thing you’ve ever heard? How did we get here? Like, as a species. What siren of broken dreams and disappointment brought us here to crash on these jagged rocks of pessimism? Or am I being dramatic again? I also sometimes think that life is better and more exciting when you make bad decisions and I wonder where that comes from. What part of my soul needs things to be more difficult or more bad or more uncomfortable to be more fun? What chamber of my heart wants to fight everyone? We’re weird, creepy little scrungles, aren’t we? How our little brains work. 

I don’t have much else to report. Since I lost January in a freak technology based incident of likely my own making I’ll ease you into this lukewarm misery bath rather than tossing you right in. But I’ll leave you with my wishes for next month, what I hope to be feeling next time I post. 

I want to be happier, calmer and excited about what’s coming next

I want to have had a good day

I want to talk about my writing and the plans for my novel

I want to scream about Dune 2. 

Love you heaps, whoever’s reading this. Love you so so much. Love you right into all the little gaps that aren’t already filled with love in your chest and mind and heart. I love you and I hope you’ve had a good month. 

Love, 

Maple x

[stripperblvd]

She’s All That (Eddie Munson x metalhead!reader)

Summary: Eddie’s pride of having you to himself makes him show you off at any event, but sometimes even that isn’t enough to keep away pesky groupies.

Warnings: Just a regular ol night at the bar, a little steamy cuz of the body shots but nothing huge. Oh and a groupie gets punched.

Word Count: 2.8k

You finished putting your shoes on before walking over to Eddie, who was looking frantically around his drawer. You laughed, “Looking for these, baby?” you asked, holding up a little jar that you had bought for him to store his picks in. You jiggle the object in your hand, making the little pieces of plastic clink against the glass. “My god, whatever would I do without my queen.” Eddie sighs dramatically, going over to you and wrapping his arms around you to pepper little kisses all over your face and ending it with a big one to your lips. He takes the jar from your hands, making you giggle as he kisses your nose while opening it. “Would you do me the honor of choosing one my love?” he bows, imitating a knight and dropping his head low to raise the jar at you. You reach into the jar, picking out one pick that replicates the one Eddie’s necklace carries. “This one.” you say, putting it on your palm for him to grab. He grins, placing it in his pocket before grabbing a few more haphazardly, knowing one single pick for the gig was not a good idea.

Tonight 2 bands were going to play a set before Eddie needed to go, so he and the guys stayed in the crowd enjoying the show. The crowd was rowdy this evening, drinks flying out as fast as they were drunk, the establishment soon filled with the odor of drunk people and smoke. You and Eddie laughed as you ordered shots, the bartender soon bringing them over along with some salt and limes. You eyed Eddie, stopping his hands as he reached for the shot, grabbing his wrist. “Lean over.” you smirk, his eyes lighting up with the same amount of mischief that yours held as he sat down on the stool, the group around you eying the couple as they started circling around you and another woman and her date who also had the same idea as you. You reached for the salt, on your tray, giggling as you and the woman next to you tapped the little glass shakers before turning to your respective men.

Eddie placed the small slice of lime between his teeth, leaning over so you had a clear view of his long neck. You swore you could moan, always loving the way Eddie looked with his head thrown back, his jaw and throat on full display for your eyes. You tilt the salt shaker over his throat watching a small sprinkle fall onto his slightly protruding Adam's apple.  Eddie smirked, feeling your hand and body’s weight rest lightly on his knee before you disappeared under his chin, his skin feeling the seductive way you licked a thick stripe up his throat. You bring the shot to your lips before downing it and closing the gap between you and Eddie, your tongue sneaking into his mouth to suck the lime off him. The group around you erupts in cheers and clanks as they wait expectantly, knowing it’s your turn.

Eddie doesn’t let you move, instead grabbing your waist and allowing you to hop right on his lap, your legs dangling off his thigh. He grabs the salt from your hands, looking down at your shirt and letting you pull it down to expose your cleavage. The salt granules almost tickle as they hit your skin, but the feeling is quickly replaced by the feeling of Eddie’s tongue right between your tits, his hair tickling your jaw before he drinks off his own shot, groaning slightly as the liquid slithers down his throat. His lips meet yours, taking back the slice of lemon that you had taken from him just a minute ago, his fingers coming up to retrieve the tangy fruit from his mouth before he crashes his lips with yours. “Gotta go baby.” he mumbles, letting you off his lap before giving you another quick kiss, watching him as he saunters away and into the door that leads to the backstage area.

You make quick friends with the woman who had also participated in the body shots next to you, smiling as she introduced herself. “I’m Carly.” she shakes your hand, wiping the small amount of spit that had been placed on her breast with a napkin. “Y/N” you smile, reaching for some peanuts to munch on while you wait for your boyfriend to get on stage. “That's your boy or a date. Mine was just a date.” she smiles, rolling her eyes slightly as she watches him congregate with a few guys. “2 years strong, he’s about to come on with his band.” you smile, watching as Carly lightly slaps your shoulder, wiggling her eyebrows with an impressed “Oooooh”.

Speak of the devil, the crowd cheers as Corroded Coffin enters the stage, and your eyes follow your man as Jeff introduces the band, quickly beginning an original song. You can’t help but get lost in the sounds coming from the speakers, the deep bass, booming drums, melodious guitars. Metal just always had an infinitely amazing way to really get a reaction from you. As you immerse yourself in the show you let yourself drift away from the atmosphere around you. So when your newfound friend rolls her eyes, you don’t notice. Not until she groans.

“What’s wrong?” you speak into her ear. She points you at a group of women standing around the center of the room, their bodies wearing enough clothes to cover probably enough so that they don’t end up arrested tonight. You didn’t really know what was wrong at first, surely they couldn’t do much trouble, it was just a little bunch of bimbos at the bar. “God I hate her.” she says, your eyes following hers to meet a blonde-ish woman, her hair frizzy with what you can only tell is an incredibly botched perm, her eyelids are heavy with sparkling makeup, lips holding an almost obnoxious sort of ruby red. “Who is she?” you ask, knowing there has to be at least some reason why your friend despises this woman. “Her name’s Hannah, total buzz kill. I mean don’t get me wrong I got nothing against groupies, but she just tries SO hard. I went to high school with her a few years back, she’s only like this cuz she used to get bullied. One too many surgeries later and now she starts something with at least a few band guys every time she sticks her nose where it doesn't belong.”

By the end of Carly’s speech you can now see why she would detest such a woman. You had noticed her only once before, when she very obviously threw herself at a passing band a few weeks back. Only a few people separate her and you. But you can’t keep your eyes on her long enough, because suddenly the song that had been playing ends, cheers crowd the room and you can hear the absolute beast of a drum solo that Gareth is currently playing, the lone sound of wood clashing against his drums, setting the entire bar into a rupture of absolute madness. You smile, watching your friend come to a slow end to his spotlight moment, finishing his part with a loud clang, and the snap of one of his sticks, half of which flies out into some place deep backstage. You can hear the guys laughing, and while Gareth fishes for another stick at his feet Eddie takes the mic, looking over the crowd and then smoothly finding his way back to you, enlightened that by this point in the gig you’re right at the foot of the stage, with your friend beaming up at him. But you notice Eddie is looking rather uncomfortable after he looks away from you, his laugh almost fake as he looks away from the crowd, his foot tapping lightly before he locks eyes with you again, the grin returning to his feautures. He steps towards his mic stand taking a deep breath

“This last song is a cover of Metallica, it’s called Phantom Lord and I dedicate it to a very special girl tonight, who helped me learn the song.” You think your ears are gonna bleed with how loud Carly alone is, smirking and hiding your lips behind your ring clad hand as a majority of the pit looks at you, cheering, whistling and calling out a few “yeahs” as Eddie and his band prep for this cover. Your mind travels to the night where you taught Eddie how to play Phantom Lord, the initial chords of the song hitting your ears as you hear him start to shred into the beat of Gareth's drums as the tune picks up. You remember both of you standing around his room, your purple warlock plugged into the amp as you played the first few seconds of the song.

Tonight Eddie is singing, his rough voice filling your ears as your mind eases into the memory of you laughing and jumping around as you slowly incorporate your own little touches to the song. Eddie hasn’t even gotten to the first line of the song before Carly nudges you, urging you to look to your right. Your blood boils, arms suddenly stiff as a board. Now you know why, even now Eddie looks uncomfortable. Your eyes meet the so-called Hannah’s figure, her eyes trying to lock with Eddie’s as he begins singing, his eyes closing to help him get lost in the lyrics, his hands doing the work over his strings almost mindlessly. Carly can tell you’re fuming, and rightfully so. The over exaggerated “moshing” gets to you because possessiveness is what drives you to protect your relationship. Eddie is yours.

Your eyes meet Eddie’s again, his own puppy-like eyes telling you to come forward. His singing stops, the beginning of the solo starting, your eyes recognizing what he has in mind. You can feel eyes burning into you, only smirking as you notice a cloud of burnt blonde hair killing you with her eyes. But it doesn't matter, you place your hands at the foot of the stage, the solo suddenly strums into its slow paced progression, and Eddie kneels towards you. The entire crowd’s eyes are now set on the lanky guitarist.

His lips meet yours, tongues swiftly interlocking as he starts strumming the repetitive slowness of this part of the solo. His lips make you drunk, the same chord progression fill in your ears as the crowd absolutely loses their fucking minds. It’s quite the show, the guitarist making out with his girlfriend while playing an almost romantic part of such a badass song. But you quickly pull away, knowing that after the 30 second interlude of soft tunes, the solo picks up wildly. Your throat is almost sore as you yell, jumping in with the crowd and starting to lose your cool with the song. Carly jumps in with you, Eddie’s voice picks up as you and your friend hold hands, feet stomping to Corroded Coffin's version of Phantom Lord. Slowing down as Eddie’s raspy yell fills the space, signifying the end of the song as he and Gareth simultaneously end the song, you and your friend start to calm down.

It happens fast, a small bump of the shoulder mid hop makes Carly lose her balance on her spiky heels, and in your haste to straighten her out, you catch a shrill yell and cold liquid splashing at your feet.

“What the FUCK.” you squint, shoulders meeting your ears. You turn, the same woman from before is looking at you like a rabid bitch, hands raised and her right heel glistening with what smells like a shot of tequila. The band doesn’t leave, the growing circle in the mosh pit catching their eyes. Eddie spots you, front and center. “Are you fucking stupid. You just spilled my drink.” the tone of annoyingly angry yells start your blood up. Everyone’s looking, you have to chase your coolness unless you want to make a scene. “Jeez Hannah, it’s a fucking shot, just get whatever guy youre letting hit tonight to buy you a new one.” You try to stifle your laughter, Carly’s voice speaks from behind you as small laughs fill the room. “Who the fuck do you think you are laughing at me bitch.” You feel a shove at your shoulder, “ooh’s filling the bar as you suck on your teeth. You don’t know it, but Eddie had hopped off the stage, trying to get closer to you, his own heart speeding up as he watched the foreign hand land on your shoulder.

“Dont. Fucking. Touch me.” you spit, stepping right into the groupie’s face, feeling your temper hit its limit. This chick was already on your bad list for trying to catch Eddie’s attention, and if she kept going you were truly going to go ape shit. “Babe, calm down.” Eddie speaks into your ear. Eddie can only do so much, knowing how physical you get once you’re thrown off the edge. In its own way, he’s protecting the woman in front of you. But he can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, especially not when that someone starts laughing in your face. “Yeah bitch, calm down or you’re leaving with a busted face and no boyfriend.”

She can’t even wink at Eddie before fists are flying her way. Eddie knew he should’ve held on to you instead of just placing a flimsy hold on you. Your body slips easily from his grasp as you lunge at the girl, toppling her over and wasting no time in stradling her. Ruckus breaks out, as her friends try to free their minion from your grasp, Eddie’s arm wrapping around your waist. In the back of your mind you groan, knowing that once you calmed down you’d regret everything. Anger was your own special weakness, something that you never learned how to fully control. Unfortunately for you this is how you ended up in situations like the one your boyfriend was currently trying to rid you from. Eyes wide, first mercilessly pounding on Hannah’s face, blood seeping from her mouth and nose.

“Calm down! You got her babe you got her!” The crowd widens as Eddie and Jeff manage to pull you off the now weeping woman, her friends hurriedly tugging her along and out of the bar to the best of their ability. It takes a second for your eyes to fully clear up, raging cloudiness seeping out of your eyes as Eddie holds you close to him, his heart pounding out of his chest and right against your back. Jeff stands before you, arms held out, his eyes are wide as he stares at you, trying to find his friend behind all the frustration and violence that you just exhibited. “You're good man. You got the btich, you’re good” he sighs, slowly bringing his arm down, and patting your shoulder with the other one. The bar is eerily silent, an awkwardness that’s broken by a smirking Gareth right at the center of the stage. “THAT'S how you end Corroded Coffin with a bang.” he laughs into the mic, people around you cheering and he bar filling up with little shot glasses.

Carly follows Eddie as he pushes past the crowd of shoulder and back pats, leading you to the backstage where a waitress has a damp cloth, one that she hands Eddie and smiles at you softly. You’re silent, not knowing if you want to cry, or shout, or laugh or maybe just disappear. It’s been a while since you let go like that, bat shit crazy swinging, having to be pulled off by two grown dudes. Regret started to seep its way into your heart the way you knew it would. She was defenseless against you, like a growling lion bouncing on a baby deer.

“Look at me baby.” Eddie’s pretty little doe eyes meet yours, a relaxed smile playing at his face. “It’s okay. I know you feel bad but she was testing you.” he said. Carly chimed in, “Yeah, trust me she would’ve done much worse. She thinks she’s on top of the world, it’s about time someone knocked her down a few hundred steps.” she laughs, placing the damp cloth on your hand, wiping away the small traces of crimson maroon that dot your knuckles, a few sections on the skin split.

“Ow.” you say, no emotion in your voice which almost sounds like sarcasm. “I just…Eds you know how much I hate losing my cool.” you sigh, turning to bury your face between his shoulder as you wince a bit more, the adrenaline slowly retracting and leaving you tired and exhausted. “Look at it from the bright side baby, you’re like my knight in shining armor. Plus you can’t say that solo bit wasn’t like…completely hot.” his laugh along with Carly’s draw a small smirk from your lips. “Yeah…it was, wasn’t it.”

I could NOT help myself. I was playing Phantom Lord the other day and accidentally kept playing the slow part of Kirk’s solo and it just got me thinking man. If i ever had the opportunity to do that, I WOULD.

7-12-22

[crankynewt]

Life Could Be a Dream - Chapter 2

Live in Living Colour Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N) slowly begins to remember their life with “Pietro” before WestView as they move through the decades, but sometimes knowledge is a curse rather than a blessing.

Pairing: Pietro (Peter) Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning: WandaVision Episode 6 spoilers! Read at your own risk!

Author’s Note: Here’s the highly requested second part to Be Okay! You don’t have to read it to understand this story, but it does fill in the gap during the 80s episode and give a little more context into the reader’s mind. Also, the reader’s powers and Halloween costume are highly based off of Starlight from the boys even though I did my best to make it gender neutral, but that’s what I kinda envisioned!

(Not My Gif!)

Your hips swayed as you danced around the kitchen, the sound of The Chords’ “Life Could Be a Dream” filled the room from the record player in the corner your beloved vinyl was spinning on. Chopping pineapple for the jell-o in the bundt mold beside you, you hummed along to the familiar tune as your feet shuffled back and forth on the checkered floor.

A whooshing sound and light breeze behind you tore your attention away from the task at hand. Turning around quickly, you were met with the smiling face of your loving boyfriend, relaxing in a chair with his feet propped up against the kitchen table. His dark jeans were complimented by a letterman jacket adorning his shoulders, his shades of grey complimenting your own and those surrounding the both of you.

“My partner and their impeccable taste in music.” He smirked, arms crossed behind his head.

“My boyfriend and his faster-than-a-bullet superspeed.” You retorted, shuffling over to your man and giving him a playful smack on the leg. “Feet off the table! We’ve gotta eat here in a few hours!”

Pietro whooshed once again, this time with one hand in your waist while the other held yours, finally slowing down enough to gently rock you to the music. Life really could be a dream, and you were experiencing it first-hand.

“What is happening? Where did this come from?!” Agent Woo asked, watching the dancing couple sway as a hexagon framed the image and the words ‘Pietro(Y/N)’ shone across the screen.

“I don’t know! When Wanda recast Pietro an extra broadcast started from inside the hex and this is what the channel’s playing.” Darcy explained, taking a sip of her long awaited coffee as the end credits began to roll. “She must have somehow created another storyline for them.”

“But, wait… Didn’t somebody say that (Y/L/N) went missing before the blip?” Monica commented, pointing at your smiling face on the screen.

“Last I heard was that they got beamed up on that spaceship in New York with Spider-Man and Doctor Strange, but nobody’s seen them since.” Jimmy added, crossing his arms with a furrowed brow.

“Well wherever they were, they’re back in action.”

You woke up with a gasp, shooting straight up as a cold sweat adorned your body. Your nightmare had been something that you couldn’t believe your mind had imagined, it was so real, so dark… 

You had been on a strange planet surrounded by shades or orange and red, weirdly dressed people fighting all around you. At the centre of it all was this purple giant, a metallic glove adorning his hand as he fought the group of you away. 

Before you knew what you were doing you were rushing towards him, hand raised as a tingling feeling ran down your arm while golden light formed around your hand. But your attack was to no avail as with a clench of his fist the giant had opened a red hole in front of you and you began free falling.

“What? What is it?” Pietro grumbled, slowly waking up at your sudden outburst. He sat up as well, rubbing his hand on your lower back soothingly. 

“It was just a dream, babe.” You brushed it off, turning to face Pietro and leaning closer towards him. His eyes still held worry and a bit of disbelief as you played it off, but rather than argue, he just held you close as the two of you laid back down until sleep took it’s hold once more. 

“How much longer ‘till he calls?” Darcy whined, spinning in her chair as the boredom of watching reruns overtook her. You and Peter had just finished your ‘80s episode, meaning that the two of you had just reunited with Wanda and Vision.

“Don’t worry, he’ll call.” Monica replied, and as if on cue the name ‘Jimmy Woo’ was flashing upon her phone screen. She was quick to answer and eagerly pressed the device to her ear. “Woo? What’d your guy say?”

“Scott said that (Y/N) hasn’t been seen since they were on a planet called Titan fighting Thanos. Stark apparently told him that they got tossed in some hole he opened and they couldn’t get them back.” Jimmy explained, the sound of a car moving filling the background as he was already on his way back from talking to Lang.

“You don’t think that he sent her to wherever this new Pietro came from, do you?” Monica responded, Darcy shrugging her shoulders in response.

“I mean, it’s well within the realm of possibilities?” 

“What are you boys doing?” You called from the bottom of the stairs to where Pietro and the twins were playing some video game on the tv, laughing and shouting as they shot at each other. “Piet, why aren’t you in your costume?”

Your boyfriend finally turned to face you and your Halloween costume had his jaw quite literally dropping. You adorned a white costume with a golden star and accents on the front, meanwhile your cape was white with countless smaller stars decorating it’s entirety.

“Wow! Babe, you look… Wow!” He ogled, speeding over to you as his eyes took in your costumed appearance. He ignored your question, Wanda having to bug her brother once more for him to drag Tommy with him to make their matching Quicksilver costumes, their hair slicked up on the sides in an odd way.

Before you knew it the five of you were making your way down the street bustling with costumed kids. Pietro and Wanda were a couple steps ahead of you with the twins, you making the decision to take a minute to appreciate your domestic life while the siblings caught up.

“Unleash hell, demon spawn!” Pietro yelled as the twins went running off to fill their buckets with candy. You weren’t trying to eavesdrop, however you weren’t very far behind them and neither twin was making any effort to speak quietly.

“Do you remember when we were at the orphanage when mom and dad died?” She asked, the duo stopping to talk to each other in the middle of the busy road. While you didn’t intend to stop yourself, the sudden confusion that struck your mind left you no other choice.

Orphanage? Why would Peter have ever been in an orphanage when both his parents were still alive?  Wait, Peter? Where was all this coming from?

Suddenly your life was quite literally flashing before your eyes. Getting your powers, joining the Avengers, falling through the portal to another reality, meeting the X-Men… Oh, and Peter. Your relationship with Peter came back in moments, from your first meeting to the day he kissed you after you almost died on a mission. And how could you ever have forgotten your wedding day?! 

“Peter?” You asked out loud. Whether you were calling out to the man who you now remember to be your husband or questioning the memories that you had just regained you weren’t sure.

Your sudden comment caused Peter/Pietro to scoff in disbelief and furrow his brows, meanwhile Wanda’s expression darkened as her eyes glared daggers into your head. 

“Did you just call me Peter?” He asked incredulously, but his face quickly softened as he saw the fear in your eyes. You were utterly dumbfounded, How did you get back here? Last thing you remembered was being at the school, then all of a sudden you were living in some sit-com town.

“Why doesn’t he remember me? Wanda, what have you done?” Your voice wavered, your gaze shifting from Peter to Wanda, who would have already murdered you if looks could kill.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her eyes flashed red, meanwhile Peter was standing there as if everything around him was completely normal.

“I think you do. Don’t make me do this, Wanda.” Your eyes began glowing as well. There was no way this would be ending well.

[lightofthemoonglow]

light of the good life

summary: Bo Sinclair wants one thing and he's going to get it, one want or another

contains: mild smut, breeding kink, pining

It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Bo Sinclair had been fine with his life before you had come along. Sure, it hadn’t been perfect, but what was? He had been fine with being alone. He had been fine with not sleeping some nights because no sleep was better than an empty bed. And yeah, maybe he wanted more in his life and their work wasn’t filling the void. But he had been managing, he had been living with it. And then you had shown up and blown that all to hell. With that sweet smile, wearing a pretty dress that reminded him of the nice girls in the movies.

But you weren’t a nice girl, not entirely.

Nice girls didn’t stay in Ambrose. But you had, even after finding out what they did around here. You had been lost and had found your place here. The first time Bo had seen your sweet face splattered with blood, that pretty skirt flecked with red, he had known you belonged here.

More specifically, you belonged with him.

Suddenly, he wasn’t managing. Sometimes, he let the cracks show. Bo would look at you too long, let his hands linger while handing you something. When you made one of his favorite meals, he'd kiss you on the cheek. Every now and then, during those evenings when it was just the two of you watching TV, he would put his arm around you. And you never shoved it off.

It was fine for a while. But then that family had to come through town.

One of their few rules was no families with little kids or babies. Those sorts of people drew attention, the world would care if they went missing. So they were allowed to roll through Ambrose unharmed, just out of practicality.

Bo had come out of the shop, ready to send them on their way when he had seen you holding their baby. Your whole face glowed and you reluctantly handed the infant back to its mother. And the mere sight of you cradling a baby had sparked a whole new wave of urges that made him nearly drag you to the room under the shop, throw you onto the mattress and not stop until it took.

But that wouldn’t end the way he wanted; Bo knew that. So all he did was smile and wave as the family drove off and after you left to attend to other matters in town, he began to plot.

--

It took a few days for it to come together. For Vincent to be down in his workshop while Lester was out cold at his place. For it to be just the two of you sitting on the porch swing in the backyard, looking at the sky or maybe nothing. Bo had been nursing the same beer all night and you had stuck to soda. So both of you were sober, which was what he wanted. Bo wanted, no he needed, this night to go off without a hitch.

Slinging an arm across the back of the swing, Bo looked over at you and you were looking up at the stars, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips. And everything he had rehearsed practically went out the window.

“I think you’d look real good with a baby of your own, lil miss.” That was what he called you sometimes, when he wanted to be playful, flirtatious. You were his lil miss, the only one. Though not for long, if tonight went off without a hitch.

“What, are you offering to go get me one?” You glanced over at him, taking a slow sip of your drink. “You gonna go to the hospital and grab the first one that looks like you and me?”

Your words sent a shock that went straight to Bo’s gut. One that looks like you and me. Whatever was left of that silver tongue he knew he possessed withered at the mere idea that you had been thinking about it too. He imagined your fingers working over your wetness, your body writhing as you imagined him giving you that baby. Maybe the two of you had been up at the same time, furiously pleasuring yourselves to the same idea.

“Oh darlin’, if you wanted that, I could give it to you,” Bo whispered, closing the gap between the two of you. One of his hands went to your thigh, slowly sliding upwards. “All you gotta do is ask and I’ll give you as many as you want.” And he would, he’d give you anything you asked for if you asked him for it.

The way you were looking up at him, eyes all wide and dark, was everything he needed to move in for the kill. Bo’s other hand went to your hair, gripping it with his strong fingers before pulling you in closer, his lips grazing yours for a moment. You whined softly at the sudden loss of contact, as if he had been dangling a sweet treat in front of that pretty mouth and then suddenly yanked it away.

Which was actually a pretty apt description of what had happened. You had been so ready for it, for Bo to finally make the move you had been waiting for. But then he had pulled back and that wicked glint in his eyes told you everything that you needed to know about his motivation. Bo wanted you to beg, to be the one who asked for it. Maybe it was his way of getting you back for making him wait so long, but the result was all the same.

You climbing onto his lap, bold as brass, whimpering as you felt just how much he wanted this. “Please, Bo,” you whimpered, kissing his jaw in between pleas. “I want it.”

“Want what, lil miss?” Bo was just being mean at this point, looking at you like you were a piece of meat, and he was a hungry man and yet still making you beg.

“I want your baby.”

And with that, Bo was lost, finally feel like he had the right to do what he had been wanting to do for months. Ever since he had seen you splattered with blood that wasn’t yours. Before you could say more, actually beg him to fuck you, Bo had lifted you up and laid you down on the porch. You could feel the wood against your bare legs and then your rear as he reached under your dress and pulled off your panties.

“Gonna give you one right now, tonight.” Bo murmured against the crook of your neck as his hands roamed over your thighs, gripping you nearly hard enough to hurt. He was pressing himself against you, you could feel it with every movement. He pushed up the hem of your dress, making it bunch around your waist. “Fuck, you’re pretty,” he practically breathed out as he took in the sight of you. Nothing was hiding the view and his gaze burned. You squirmed, feeling so exposed, even before his fingers went between your thighs, gently stroking the spot that made you squeal and arch your back.

“So fucking pretty,” Bo whispered, his fingers still moving, not stopping until you were shaking and calling his name, begging for him to put it in, needing to feel what had been pressing against you for what felt like an eternity.

When he was finally inside of you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close, eyes rolling back. Bo gripped your hips tightly, pushing into you with the purpose of a man on a mission. He closed his eyes and imagined the end result. You all swollen with his baby, his baby. No one else would be able to take you from him, you would be his wife before the baby came of course, and then the baby would come and he would finally prove his parents wrong.

Though as he watched the way you looked at him afterwards, as you clung to him on the porch, breathing heavily as you came down from your orgasm, a part of him realized that he had already proved them wrong. Monsters didn’t have people look at him the way you did.

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter three rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

Peter arrived at the Avengers tower with a little pep in his step. His new neighbor was on his mind and he couldn’t get her off. He knew it was a long shot, after all you’d only had one conversation, but he felt like there was a connection between you. You were awkward, he was awkward. What more does a relationship need?

Tony was quick to notice the change in Peters mood. A dreamy smile crept across his face every now and then while Tony was trying to explain something about his nanotechnology.

“Alright Underoos, whats on your mind? A girl? Boy? That gorgeous Aunt of yours? Oh wait no, that’s what’s on my mind.” Tony smirked, making a blush paint Peters cheeks.

“Nothing sir. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Peter answered quickly. Tony scanned Peter up and down skeptically.

“So its a girl. Alright. Who is she?” Tony asked, motioning for Peter to sit down with him.

“This girl moved in across the hall from me about a week ago. I’d see her on the stairs sometimes, or in the lobby. She’s beautiful, Mr. Stark. I mean, really beautiful. And I know girls are a lot more than their appearance, trust me, but I can never look away. It’s like God made a perfect batch of cookie dough, and then made a perfect cookie cutter, and then hand made her just for me. There’s just, there’s something about her. I feel like I’ve always known her, and I don’t even know her yet. She knocked on my door this morning and I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her through the peephole. I played dumb and acted like I didn’t know she lived across the hall.” Peter started to explain. A twinge of embarrassment struck him at the memory of what he said to you.

“Oh God. You said something stupid, didn’t you?” Tony inquired, noticing the look of embarrassment on Peters face as he recalled their conversation. Tony leaned on his hands like a child, this stuff exciting him more than anything.

“I insulted her dead father and called him smelly.” Peter admitted, and Tony laughed.

“But she found it funny and agreed with me.” Peter quickly followed up.

“Wow. Normally I’d say there’s no coming back from that, but she seems like a keeper. So, are you gonna throw on your Spidey suit and take her for a ride around the city? Works with all the ladies.” Tony wiggled eyebrows, but Peter shook his head.

“No. Spider-Man isn’t a party trick or some tactic to pick up girls. Plus, I want her to like me for me. That’s why I invited her over for dinner tonight.” Peter answered. Tony looked down at his hands, not wanting Peter to see how proud he was. He couldn’t let Peter get too cocky.

“That was a test and you passed.” To y quipped. “Alright, spider child, you have my blessing. But no funny business tonight. If I find out I’m gonna have to design nanotech baby clothes, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Peter blushed at the mere thought of what Tony was implying and spent the rest of his time at the tower going over missions to get you off his mind.

You arrived at Peters at 6:07. You were done getting ready at 5:45, and sat in the living room on your phone until you were slightly late. You didn’t want to be early, like some loser. Or even worse, on time. You had to be fashionably, but not rudely, late.

You knocked on Peters door at 6:07 and waited. The door swung open instantly, as if he’d be waiting right behind.

“I know what you’re thinking.” He stated. “I’ll let you decide if I was waiting at the door for you or if I’m just really fast. “

He had successfully broken the ice, and you gave kudos to him for trying.

You, on the other hand, were drawing a blank. You had no idea what to say and you were a reporter for crying out loud. You didn’t get tripped up on my words, but something about Peter Parker and that damn collared shirt rendered you unable to formulate a thought. All you could do was stand there and smile at him. You felt like you were standing weirdly and all the sudden had no idea where to put your hands. Do you leave them at your sides? That felt too stiff and soldier-like. But where else would they go? You were pretty sure every brain cell had left your body at that point, leaving you defenseless.

“You look nice.” Peter blurted, interrupting the awkward silence that had settled between you. Even he seemed surprised by his statement. You looked down and shrugged. You looked as nice as a lazy person who didn’t fully unpack their clothes could look. You had on a casual grey dress that was made of some sort of t-shirt material, and your hair was in a loose bun with a few curls framing your face. Peter took in your appearance with what looked like approval. Then you noticed Peters gaze falling to your feet.

“Converse with a dress.” He noted. “Bold move.”

You felt your personality re-enter your body, finally, and nodded.

“Oh yeah. You know me. Quirky and cool and not like other girls.” You joked as you clicked your heels together. “You look nice too. Very…Freddie Benson.”

Freddie Benson? Who the hell makes an ICarly reference to compliment someone? This night was going downhill fast and you regretted ever knocking on his door.

“Dude. You’re tanking.” Venom said in your ear, you had to agree. This couldn’t be going worse.

But lo and behold, Peters beautiful laugh filled your ears once again.

“That’s what I was going for!” He cheered. “My friend Ned always teases me for wearing sweaters and button downs but he just doesn’t have the vision.”

“Come in.” He suddenly stepped aside and gestured inward. “Dinners almost ready.”

Peters apartment looked just like yours, but much more homey. You saw his baby pictures on the wall, coupled with pictures of him and his parents through the years. You noticed a framed picture of a different couple on the coffee table. They resembled Peter but you didn’t see them in any photos with him past the age of around 7. There was a candle next to the frame, as well as a ceramic cross. You quickly looked away, not wanting to overstep.

“You must be Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you.” You heard a woman’s voice from behind you. You turned around and saw a woman in high pants and a yellow tank top, recognized her from the pictures with Peter.

“I am. It’s very nice to meet you too, Mrs. Parker.” You said politely and shook her hand.

“Please.” She shook your hand. “Call me May.”

“May.” You repeated with a smile.

You turned around and saw Peter pulling out a chair for you, so you sat down while May finished preparing dinner. You offered to help, being the polite ass bitch that you were, but May insisted that you were the guest. A plate of “meatloaf” was soon placed in front of you and Peter. The term “meatloaf” is used very loosely. It looked more like an old shriveled brain. Peter made eye contact with you and winked.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He whispered. He glanced at May, who was busy pouring the drinks, before leaning in closer and whispering, “it’s way worse.”

You playfully kicked Peter under the table and he giggled, quickly masking the sound with a drink of water.

“So, Y/N, where do you go to school?” May started the conversation. You took a bite of meatloaf, nearly died, and swallowed before answering.

“I’m actually taking a gap year before I start my junior year at Berkeley.” You told her. “And I work part time as a reporter.”

“That’s a very good school.” She complimented. “And I thought you looked familiar. I’ve seen your show on YouTube.”

“I haven’t.” Peter realized. “What’s it called?”

“The L/n Report.” You answered. “I started it my freshman year and it just kinda took off.”

“Oh. I’ve read some of yoru articles, but I haven’t seen the show.” Peter realized. “I can’t believe you do that. That’s really cool. You’re really cool.”

“Thank you.” You winked at him, not used to being praised for your work.

“Peter told me about your father.” May changed the subject. “I’m so sorry to hear that he passed. He left the apartment to you?”

“He did.” You nodded. “And it’s all right. We were estranged anyway.”

“It must be so different living alone in a city.” May sighed. “Did you dorm while at Berkeley?”

“No, I lived with my boyfriend.” You shook your head. Peter began choking on his water at the mention of a boyfriend and May shot him a look.

“Peter. Manners.” She said sternly.

“Boyfriend?” Was all he managed to say between coughs and sputters.

Oh great. Time for this conversation.

“Ex-boyfriend.” You corrected. “I got him demoted to traffic duty for two weeks and he wasn’t too happy about it.”

“He broke up with you over that?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “That’s gotta be the dumbest reason for a breakup I’ve ever heard.”

“May I ask how you got him demoted?” May wondered.

“Well, I’m an investigative reporter, and my ex, Andy, is a cop.” You began. “I looked at some classified files on his computer and used them against someone.”

“Carlton Drake, right?” She realized the story sounded familiar. “I read about that. Your exposé about him was everywhere.”

“Didn’t he die in his own rocket?” Peter asked you, fully invested in the story.

“Yea. I was there. Me and…my friend.” You caught yourself before almost mentioning Venom.

“Gosh I read that story forever ago.” May recalled. “It was all over the news here. I remember Peter ranting to me that this girl was straight out of high school and already taking down shady guys in San Francisco. You were obsessed with the article, remember Peter? I’m pretty sure you hung it up.”

Peter, you guessed it, turned bright red.

“I just thought you were cool. You know, taking down bad guys and all at such a young age. It really inspired me.” Peter explained. He suddenly looked panicked, like he said too much, and you wondered what it inspired him to do.

“Thank you Peter.” You smiled fondly. “How old are you anyway?”

“19. I’ll be 20 on August 10th.” He said proudly. “What about you?”

“He’s legal.” Venom whispered in your ear. You couldn’t even be mad at her, you were thinking the same thing.

“I’m 20.” You told him, and smile crept across his face.

“And this boyfriend, where is he now?” May asked. May wasn’t blind to what was happening between her nephew and this new neighbor and knew that’s what Peter was dying to ask.

“I would very much also like to know that.” Peter said, almost robotically. He leaned in closer and stared at you while he awaited the answer.

“He’s engaged, actually.” You said between sips of water, making Peter sigh in relief. “To a friend of mine. They’re getting married this summer.”

It was the first time you said those words out loud. You didn’t feel sad, like you thought you would. You didn’t really know how you felt. The smile that broke out on Peters face gave a clear indication on how he felt, though.

“That’s great. I mean, not great great. Great for him, I mean. It’s always good to move on. Wether it be with an old friend or a brand new one. Maybe it’s with someone you just met. You never know. Things just happen between the most random of people. Could be a stranger. Or, or, hear me out, it could be less of a stranger. Like a barista, or a mailman or a…a neighbor.” Peter stumbled over his words, the last part coming out very quietly. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out though. Between you and him, I mean. ”

“Thanks.” You shrugged. “It was tough at first but, I’m okay now. He wasn’t the one.”

“When you do find the one, you’ll know. I knew almost immediately that Ben was the one. I saw him and my heart said “that’s the one you’ve been looking for” and I believed it.” May sighed wistfully. You could see her eyes glistening behind her glasses and did something rather bold. You put your hand on top of hers and squeezed. She gave off this loving motherly vibe that you had only seen in movies but never felt for yourself. May gave you the warmest smile and squeezed your hand back.

“That’s lovely May. Although, I always thought when you met the one, your heart wouldn’t say that it’s been looking for that person. I always thought it would say ‘welcome home’, or something like that. You know? Like, you’ve always known them. I don’t know though. Maybe I’ve just seen The Princess Bride one too many times.” You shrugged.

“Ah. That’s a classic in this household.” May recalled. “Peter would refuse to go to bed without watching it.”

“Because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.” Peter sassed. “You’re trying to embarrass me by pointing out that even as a child I had impeccable taste? Oh please.”

You laughed at his remark, making May noticed the smile that broke out on Peters face when he succeeded in making their new neighbor laugh.

May looked at you for a while with a content smile on her face before saying, “Yeah. I suppose you do have good taste.”

[reidgraygubler]

sounds like sweet talk to my ears (spencer reid/fem!reader)

Title: Sounds Like Sweet Talk to My Ears

Request: kinda, it was already written but someone asked for it to be posted

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: smut, fluff (18+ CONTENT!)

Content Warning:  age gap between two consenting adults (Reader is 22. So it’s 15 years), swearing, sexual content (fingering, bathtub sex (?), groping, penetrative sex/creampie, hand kink), falling in love with a sugar daddy, mildly ooc spencer, light drinking, Sugar daddy!Spencer, sugar daddy relationship, mentions of under-aged drinking (in the past)

Word Count: 4,507

Summary: Reader and Spencer go on vacation where their relationship develops.

A/N: few things, this authors note might be a little long. And im sorry for that. This was written for a full length fic with mgg as the person. But i have heavily edited it to be for spencer instead. So if there are any weird things, or spencer being way out of character, that is why. Like i said this was originally going to be a full length fic (this was previously written!!), but i have since stopped writing it, i think i have one other part that is right after this, so if this part goes good, i’ll probably post the next part. secondly, this was also written for a friend of mine, who is 22, that is why the age gap is so big between reader and spencer. It was also written an original character, but i tried my best to make it be reader insert friendly (lots of petnames and nicknames)...  someone on my nsfw blog (@reidsprincess​ ) asked about this, bc i found this gif that reminded me of this particular fic. Anyways… thanks for the love! Check out my masterlist! 

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

“This place is beautiful,” I gasped once we were both in the small beach bungalow room. It was more grandiose than the last place we stayed in. The whole place was cozy and comfortable. This was a place I was never expected to be in...

 The front door was connected to the living room, it was a comfortable room, two loveseats, and two armchairs. A flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall across from the furniture. And the kitchen was attached to the living room, separating the two with a breakfast bar and stools. The kitchen itself was better than the kitchen in my apartment. I was jealous of the owner of this home. Flowers and lit candles sat on every open surface.

The kitchen had a set of sliding glass doors, which opened up onto a patio. And that held outdoor furniture, and table and chairs set. Something told me it also housed a jacuzzi, and I was more than excited to utilize that later. The bedroom and bathroom were tuck elsewhere, but I had a feeling that it was as beautiful as the rest of the home.

The house sat on the beach. The sand was pure white and the water was perfectly blue. I couldn’t wait to run and play in the sand. As childish as that sounds… I’ve never been to the beach, so this is all new to me.

“Spencer,” I looked behind my shoulder and at him. He looked down at me with a smile as he set the luggage down on the ground beside him.

“How about,” Spencer pressed his lips to my ear and whispered. His fingers danced across my bare arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. I shuddered and smiled softly. “I go run us a bath, while you order food? Dinner with dessert? Champagne?” he offered, dropping his hand to the hem of my shirt. I chuckled lightly and pushed his hand off me. 

“That’s your idea of a perfect evening?” I asked, turning around to face him. “Dinner and a bath?” I chuckled lightly. He was looking down at me; the smile on his lips told me everything I needed to know. That he needed me right now more than I needed him. Although, I don’t think it’s possible for him to need me more than I needed him.

“Any evening with you is a perfect evening,” he whispered, lifting his hand to rest on my cheek. His hand fell down the side of my cheek and rested under my jaw, his thumb rested on the apple of my chin. I grinned as the familiar feeling of butterflies grew in my tummy. 

“Oh you be quiet,” I whispered as I lifted my arms to wrap around his neck. He hummed before pressing a kiss to my lips. I hummed, pulling him down more so we were more so eye level. He wrapped his free arm around my waist and pulled me so I was close to his body. I breathed out a laugh through my nose. After a second, he pulled away from me and kept his eyes on me. “I guess you’re in luck then,” I smiled, placing my hands on his cheeks.

“How so?” he whispered, pressing his face into my hands. I smiled and went onto my toes.

“Because our perfect evenings sound very similar,” I whispered and pecked his lips, “Every evening with you is perfect,” I smiled before walking away from him.

“What… What are you doing, Sunshine?” Spencer asked in a complaining tone as I walked towards the kitchen. I looked over my shoulder at him as I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“Dinner?” I waved my phone in the air, “What do you want?” I looked back at my phone and smiled.

“Whatever you want will be fine,” he came back up to me and kissed me again before going towards the bathroom, “Bubbles?” he called before stepping into the bathroom. I laughed as I pressed my phone to my ear.

“You know me so well, Spence!” I smiled and sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar. I looked around the kitchen and living room, taking in the beautiful decor. I wonder how he knew about this place...

I quickly ordered food before finding my way to the bathroom. And, the bathroom was just as impressive as the rest of the house. One wall was just a window that faced the beach. And a large white bathtub sat in front of the window. A shower was tucked in the wall, just so it was out of the way, but even that was beautiful. And of course, it had a toilet and sink. 

“Do you… Live here?” I asked, watching as Spencer was filling the tub. “Or like… Do you own this house? I mean… This is just. This is a beautiful house,” I leaned against the counter and looked at him. He stood up from the tub and looked at me. 

“Sometimes…” he paused as he looked around the bathroom. Sometimes? How do you sometimes live somewhere? “On the very rare occasion, when I have time off… I take my mother down here for a week. She loves the beach and the ocean and the sand in her toes,” he smiled as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt down. Okay, I guess that makes sense. “You order dinner?” he asked, resting his hands on the counter beside me. I looked up at him and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, dinner’s ordered and on its way here,” I nodded and rested a hand on his chest. He quirked an eyebrow and smiled softly.

“What’d you order?” he rested his hands on my waist. I smiled and cocked my head to the side, allowing his hands to wander up my sides.  

“I’m sorry, it’s a surprise. I don’t want to tell you,” I smiled at him. Spencer wrinkled his nose before kissing my forehead. I let out a breath of air and shrugged. “You’ll find out in 20 minutes. You should save some space in the bath for hot water,” I poked his nose before sneaking away from his arms. He grasped my wrists and pulled me back so I was in front of him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, looking down at me. I flashed my brightest smile and shrugged.

“Champagne,” I batted my eyelashes. Spencer laughed and nodded. “You still want a glass or do you want to get in the bath now?” I offered as I walked back towards the kitchen. 

“As always,” Spencer followed behind me. “I’ll grab a bottle, you get the glasses?” he asked, going towards a mini wine cooler. I nodded and opened a cabinet. I opened a few before finally pulling out two glasses.

“If this is your mother’s place, why aren’t there any photos of your family?” I asked, leaning on the counter as I sipped my beverage. Spencer turned and looked at me, leaning across from me on the counter.

���We rent it out on season.” He replied, looking down at his glass. I nodded.

“What does that mean?” I asked, feeling mildly stupid. He looked at me with a smile. “Sorry. But you gotta remember that I’m an elementary school teacher’s assistant… Who's poor. I have an apartment that I can barely afford… Not two houses, one of which I rent out.” I pointed out. Spencer laughed and nodded. “Or did you think I was just sleeping with you for fun,” I leaned over the counter to kiss his lips. 

“Hurt,” he placed his hand on his chest in a mockery of hurt. I smiled at him and cocked my head. He looked back at me with a small smile on his lips. “Basically, when we’re not here, we rent it out… But we don’t have too many people staying here,” he chuckled before sipping his drink. “As for sleeping with me just for fun? I didn’t know it was just for fun,” he pouted. I smiled and shrugged. 

“Can’t forget about that paycheck too,” I smiled at him and winked. Spencer looked at me with raised eyebrows, causing me to laugh. “And, I think the fun is just an added bonus feature…” I laughed, throwing my head back. “I thought what we were was just money and sex? Nothing more,” I whispered, leaning on the counter. Spencer looked at me and shrugged.

“It could be more than that,” he smiled. I lowered my glass to the countertop and stared at him.  I could feel my lips trying to pull into a smile, but the longer I stared at him, the more I wished this wasn’t a dream. Because that’s all it felt like when I was with him. A dream.

“Surely… You can’t be serious, Spencer,” I whispered, finally looking away from him. Spencer lifted his hand and rested it on my cheek, carefully turning my head back to look at him.

“I’ve never been serious like this before, Sunshine. And, please, don’t call me Shirley,” he whispered, poking my nose. I smiled and leaned over the counter again, kissing his lips. 

“Only if you’re serious, Spencer. I understand you’re a busy man yourself, with all that saving people with the FBI,” I whispered. He nodded, keeping his hand on my face. I wasn’t exactly sure if he was being serious, mostly because he’s a bit older than me and most people my age (and his age) don’t take such a big age gap.

A knock on the door caused us both to look that direction. I looked back at him and smiled. “Oh no. What’d you order?” He asked, watching me bounce towards the front door. I pulled the door open and met the delivery man with a smile.

“Thank you very much,” I smiled and took the food and pressed the door shut. “I got pizza because I really wanted pepperoni pizza,” I looked at him as I held the box up. Spencer laughed and nodded as he grabbed the two champagne glasses and bottle.

“I’m okay with having pizza,” he smiled before taking the lead back to the bathroom. I held the box in a tight grip as I followed behind him. “Although, I never pictured pizza to be a fancy dinner before a bath,” he looked over at me with a quirked eyebrow. I laughed before I sat on the ground.

“I mean, you are the one who put me in charge of ordering dinner,” I looked at him, watching as he sat on the ground across from me. He sat against the cabinets of the sink counter. I shoved his food towards him and smiled. “It just shows we have two different tastes. I mean, remember the first night we met. You ordered room service for steak and chicken alfredo,” I pointed out as I pulled my food out of the bag. “I’m a simple woman. I like pepperoni pizza,” I smiled at him.

“I think I’ll put you in charge of ordering food more often,” Spencer smiled at me as he went for a slice of pizza. 

“I think that’s a good idea,” I grinned. “I’ll be sure to eat quick. I’ve never been so ready for a bath in my entire life,” I spoke as I moved to sit closer to him. 

“Take your time. We have all the time in the world, Princess,” he smiled as he sipped his champagne. I felt my face warm up a bit as I looked away from him. Something about the petname he has for me just gets me going, and I love it. He definitely knew that too, that I loved the petname of Princess. 

“Glad to know that,” I giggled as I looked at my mostly-empty glass. 

{***}{***}{***}

“More champagne, Princess?” Spencer’s voice was low as he held up the bottle that was now mostly empty. I lolled my head back onto his shoulder and rested my elbows on his knees (I was sitting between his legs in the bath) and held up my glass. 

“I would love more,” I whispered, watching him pour too much into my glass. I hummed happily, telling him it was enough. He placed the bottle back on the stool and wrapped both arms back around my body. The bathwater was warm and matched with how much booze I was drinking, I knew I was beyond intoxicated. I’m sure Spencer’s presence only fueled that feeling. No, it 100% added to that feeling. I knew that. And, he knew that. He knew he had a way with me that no other man would have, or ever have even.

“You should pace yourself, Princess,” Spencer whispered, pressing his lips to my shoulder. I giggled before sipping my drink, telling him I shouldn’t. His breath of air fanned over my skin as he began pressing kisses to my neck. 

“You, Spencer, should stop giving me alcohol,” I looked up at him as best I could. He smiled and kissed me again. “Besides... you’ve had just as much... as me,” I spoke through tiny hiccups. Spencer chuckled and rubbed my shoulders before pressing his lips back to them. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as the unknown tension slipped away. Damn his touch.

“Okay, that’s fair,” he murmured into my skin. "However, I've been drinking for sixteen years. You, Sunshine, are only 22 and have only been drinking a year,” he stated like I would follow the rules. I held back the cackle that so desperately wanted to escape my lips. Me? Follow the rules?? Never ever… This should be a fun thing to tell him.

"True… But I have been drinking since I was 18," I smiled and nodded. I sipped my champagne as I rested my head back on his chest. Spencer made a sound of disapproval which only made me laugh. Oh yeah, that’s right… Under aged drinking is illegal… and he is an FBI agent...  “Okay, since when have you known me to follow the rules? I’m dating a man 15 years older than me,” I pointed out. 

"Oh, you naughty girl." Spencer playfully scolded me. I pouted before humming again.

“Yes, but I’m your naughty girl,” I laughed, arching my back a little bit. I felt his hand travel from my stomach and to my thighs. I hummed as I got a little more comfortable for what he was about to do. “Starting early,” I teased. Spencer let out a breathy laugh. He gently pressed his lips to my throat, right on my pulse point. I gasped lightly as he parted his lips and sucked a spot on my neck. I held my glass just outside of the tub. 

“I’d rather have champagne in the bath than champagne and glass on the floor,” he kept his voice low as he pulled my hand back over the bath. I laughed and shook my head. “Is this okay,” he asked as his other hand traveled a bit more upwards, towards me.

“It’s always okay,” I whispered, taking a deep breath of air. I could feel my heart beating in my chest, I wouldn’t be surprised if Spencer could feel and hear it. 

“Let me take this,” he spoke, taking my glass from my hands. I let out a sound of protest as he took my glass and pressed my head into his chest. He chuckled as he placed the glass on the stool beside the empty bottle. “You can have it back,” he spoke in a mocking tone. I pouted and dropped my head to my shoulder. “In a minute,” he added, his tone becoming a little bit more smug. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff of air.

“Fine,” I whispered. Spencer chuckled again and placed his hand back on my thigh. I hummed happily and looked up at him. “Do you have to be such a tease all the time?” I pouted at him. He smiled and shrugged before dragging his hand closer to my center. 

“Could be more than a tease,” he replied in a whisper. I rolled my eyes and let out a deep breath of air. I carefully lifted my foot out of the water and rested it on the ledge of the tub. “Oh no, you’re gonna get water all over the floor,” he scolded.

“Oh no,” It was my turn to mock him. I smiled as I waved my foot in the air. Spencer hummed before pressing his lips to the side of my head. “A little bit of wet never killed anyone,” I snickered. Except, that snicker became a gasp when he pushed a finger past my folds. My eyes fluttered shut as my jaw stayed slack open. I pressed my back into his chest, feeling his arousal on my lower back. I nearly slipped under the water if Spencer hadn’t had his other arm around my waist, holding me safely against his body.

“Calm down there, Princess,” Spencer laughed as he held me up. I glared over my shoulder at him. “Don’t need you slipping under the water. I think you’re wet enough,” he added as his finger slowly circled my clit. My hands gripped the side of the tub and then moved to rest on his knees. 

“I fucking hate you,” I muttered but moaned towards the end of my statement. Spencer laughed as he pressed his lips to the side of my head. His other arm was pressed against my chest, keeping me still as I wiggled and writhed under his touch. A breathy moan fell from my lips as he picked up his pace.  

“No, I don’t think you do,” he whispered, keeping his lips close to my ear. My eyes fluttered shut as I dropped my head to the side. Spencer took this as his chance to press kisses across the space behind my ear, causing me to gasp lightly. Spencer hummed, pleased with how I was reacting to any sort of his touches. 

I lifted both my hands and gripped his arm as he slowly eased a finger into my center. I pressed my nails so hard into his arm, I wouldn’t be surprised if come morning he’d have crescent-shaped bruises there.

A man like Spencer who has hands as beautiful as his, he clearly knows what he’s doing. It’d be a sin if he didn’t. A loss for all of womankind. I guess that’s why I’m so pleased that it’s me under his hands right now and not a different girl. I quite literally love his hands, and the way he can just work his magic with his fingers, getting me going in a matter of minutes. He wasn’t lying when he said he was a magician. 

“You alright, Princess,” he asked, keeping his tone low as he continued thrusting his fingers in and out of me, curling them just right. I hope the gasp I gave was a good response because I don’t think I knew words right now. My brain was getting fuzzy, and my belly was starting to grow tense. Like a coil deep within me was about to break. 

“S’close,” I mustered out. I swallowed roughly as he began rubbing my clit with the heel of his palm. My whimpers, gasps, and moans weren’t evenly timid as he picked up the pace, finally pushing me over the edge. 

I was a mess. There’s no other way of putting it. But, I’m always a mess when I’m with him. 

Spencer slowly withdrew his hand from between my legs and placed it over top of his other arm, embracing me like his life depended on it. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing. A giggle fell from my lips as I threw my head back against his chest. Spencer hummed as he looked down at me.

“I love your fucking hands,” I turned my head and looked at him. Spencer smiled at me and laughed before pulling his hands off me to look at them. I took one of them in my own and looked at it, entranced by his veins and freckles peppered over the backside. It felt right for his hand to be in mine.

“Thank you… I guess. I think that’s a compliment,” he mused as he placed his arms back over my chest and kissed my cheek. “You good?” he asked, his thumbs rubbing my shoulders.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go dry off and get water. Better see you in the bedroom.” I smiled at him. He pressed another kiss to my face before allowing me to get out. 

“As you wish, Princess,” he smiled at me as I grabbed a towel. His eyes lingered on me for a moment as I wrapped the towel around my body. “I’ll be right behind you,” he added as I grabbed our glasses and empty champagne bottle. 

I smiled at him as I left the bathroom, making my way across towards the kitchen. True to my word, I got a glass of water and drank half of it in one sip. I grabbed a second glass and retreated back towards the bedroom. 

Spencer wasn’t finished in the bathroom, I could still hear him splashing around in the water. I grinned and shook my head as I stepped into the bedroom. I placed the two glasses on the nightstand. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish. 

Not even two minutes later, Spencer entered the room, towel around his waist. I stared at him, my eyes lingering on his shoulders, down his arms to his hands, before flicking to gaze upon his belly and torso. I felt my lips twitch as I stood, leaving my towel behind. He smiled as I basically sprinted up to him.

I placed an open mouth kiss over his lips, putting my arms around his neck to pull him down to my height. I could feel his grin against my lips as our noses smooshed together. His arms wrapped around my waist as he brought us to the bed. 

“You’re so eager, Princess,” he muttered against my lips. I hummed as I threaded my fingers through his hair. That action elicited a moan from his lips, making me smile. He gently pushed me against the bed, standing at the foot as I got myself to lie at the pillows. The way he looked at me told me he was pleased with how the night was going to end. And honestly, I understood. 

He dropped his towel from his hips, letting it fall to the floor, before kneeling on the bed. I took a deep breath as I stared at him, keeping my eyes on my face. I knew if they wandered any further, I’d become a puddle right there. Well, more of a puddle than I already was.

Spencer smiled at me as his fingers ghosted my legs. He gently placed a kiss on different parts of my body as he made his way up to my face. The bliss I felt was unexplainable as he grasped one of my hands and kissed my lips. 

He looked down at me, a small smile on his lips. My chest heaved as my breathing picked up once again. The kisses he pressed to the swells of my breasts made me feel like I was floating. That, or it was the softness of the mattress and bedding beneath us. 

“You ready for me, Princess?” he asked, pressing a knee between my legs, separating them so he could fit comfortably between them. I licked my lips and nodded, keeping my eyes on his. His nose twitched as a smile grew on his lips. He brought a hand to rest on my cheek. “I need to hear you say it,” he leaned close to my ear and whispered. 

“Yeah, yes… I’m always ready,” I swallowed roughly and nodded. Spencer pulled his hand from my face and moved it to my hip. I lifted my legs and wrapped them around his waist, pulling him close to me. He smiled and kissed my lips, a simple distraction as he pressed his cock into me. The breath in my lungs was knocked from me, causing me to loud gasp. Spencer smiled against my lips. 

“You feel so good, Princess,” he groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder. It took a minute for either of us to move, adjusting to the feeling of each other. “Ready,” he asked, moving to place his forehead on mine. I swallowed and nodded, bringing my hands to rest on his cheeks. 

A smile twitched on his lips as he slowly started to move his hips. At first, it was an unsure rhythm but slowly grew in a slow and meaningful pace. His hands roamed my body before wrapping around my torso and holding me close. 

“Faster,” I panted, pulling my hands from his face and knotting them in his hair, again. He nodded, picking his pace. A familiar feeling in my belly, the coil winding, returned. The groans that fell from Spencer’s lips pushed me closer. 

“You’re doing so good, Princess,” his voice was low and rough as he spoke. 

I pulled a hand away from his head and brought it between our bodies. I began rubbing my clit, pushing me closer to the edge. Spencer’s thrusting grew more erratic.

“Come with me, please,” I whimpered, keeping my arm around him. He nodded and groaned as I clenched around him.  After a moment, we both became a mess. Moans and gasps of each other’s names filled the silent bedroom. 

Spencer stayed put above me for a minute, his arms around my body and holding me close. We took our time coming down from our shared high. A whimper escaped my lips as he pulled out from me and collapsed on the bed beside me.

“I got you water,” I panted, vaguely gesturing towards the two glasses of water on the nightstand. Spencer chuckled as he reached for a glass. I watched as he drank the water, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. I smiled at him, keeping my eyes on him. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. “You’re right, I don’t hate you,” I swallowed roughly and shook my head.

“I know I’m right,” he looked down at me with a smile. I rolled my eyes and watched him get off the bed. I furrowed my eyebrows and sat up. “I’m always right, Princess,” he looked over his shoulder and at me. I smiled and nodded as I got off the bed. 

“So much for taking a bath,” I rolled my eyes as I felt our mixture roll down my legs. “I’m gonna shower,” I smiled at him as I walked towards him. He pecked my lips and nodded. 

“Don’t have too much fun without me,” he poked my sides as I grabbed for my towel. I squealed and shook my head. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I smiled at him.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​, @thebluetint​

[ianthe-is-a-bitch-and-i-love-her]

On Family

An excerpt from Memoirs of a Flesh Eater, never published

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One question that I see asked in the news a lot is why there are still any ghouls left. We have a distinctive, high-impact feeding habit that requires us to stay within human society, where we are both outnumbered and outgunned. This has essentially been the case since the development of automatic firearms, and you’ve continued to develop more and more effective methods of killing us since then. How are we not extinct?

The talking heads always have lurid theories to propose. My personal favorite one, which comes up every couple of years or so, is that the government is secretly breeding us so that they have an excuse to send secret police out into the general populace for nefarious purposes pretending to be exterminators. As if they’d need the excuse {Editing Note: I’ve gotta keep my political views out of this except where they directly pertain to ghouls. No unnecessarily alienating people}. The most commonly accepted one seems to be that we just have a lot of children to compensate for our high mortality rate. Spatha calls that an R strategy, I think. Scarlet calls it the Rabbit Theory. Whatever you call it, it’s wrong. Our species has survived off the strength and compassion of our families.

Contrary to popular impressions, our “nuclear” families are pretty small. My understanding is that 1-4 children is the typical range. I’m the only confirmed only child in my friend group. Scarlet’s the youngest of three, Scorpio’s a middle child, Spatha avoids talking about her home life, and Kestrel doesn’t know her biological parents. There’s a couple of pressures that keep our family sizes small. First, it’s challenging to feed too many ghouls at once, especially ghoul children, who we don’t want worrying about where they’re going to get their meals. Second, the majority of ghoul parents are going to end up as single parents before their kids are fully grown. Either one of them is going to get killed, or they’re going to have to separate to go on the run from the exterminators; and, of course, we do still break up and get divorced sometimes.

These pressures are exaggerated by our general lack of an extended family. It’s not that all of our aunts and uncles get hunted down - even if they did, we’d still have cousins - but it’s not safe for us to have traceable extended families. When exterminators identify a ghoul, the first thing they do is put out a bulletin for all known blood relatives. The most common tactic to avoid this is, when multiple siblings make it to adulthood, at least one of them changes their identity and moves away. This isn’t always done, but it’s done often enough that document forging is a widespread and well-respected profession in the Society. It’s useful for dodging exterminators in other circumstances too. My mom and I changed our names and moved cities after exterminators killed my dad when I was 4.

Between that and the sheer number of out-and-out orphans in our Society, it should come as no surprise that we’ve developed a new family structure to fill in the gaps. The terminology we use for this structure is variable, but the term I’ve always used is “household”. A household is a sort of adopted extended family, typically formed by and centered around one particularly resourceful ghoul called a patron. The patron takes whichever ghouls they choose under their wing, introduces them to each other, and helps them coordinate their talents and resources so that they all have everything they need. Most obviously, this means making sure they all have a supply of flesh, but there are numerous other kinds of support a household can provide. I doubt I need to emphasize again how valuable a reliable source of companionship and safety is, but patrons typically have access to connections and contacts that can help the other members of the household accomplish their goals.

My household, for example, was founded by our patron Yaga. It consists of her, her adopted daughter Kestrel, my mom and I, my friends Scarlet and Scorpio and their immediate families, and four other older ghouls. There’s also Spatha, who has been reluctant to fully join the household but acts like a member in most contexts. Three of our members have reliable flesh sources, and Yaga coordinates with other ghouls to find supplementary sources to ensure that she always has a surplus on hand. This keeps all of us well-fed and lets her distribute the rest to those in need in exchange for favors and cachet that the rest of us can use for our own advancement. In turn, the rest of us pitch in for odd jobs here and there, mostly on flesh-gathering jobs of one kind or another, and we look out for each other. I’ve done a bit of babysitting with Kestrel, for example, and Yaga was able to get me and Scarlet summer jobs to save up for college.

Babysitting, by the way, is one of the most valuable services a household can provide to a ghoul parent. Given our mortality rate, it probably isn’t a surprise that there’s a good bit of cultural pressure to have children, and have them quick. Ghoul children are… a lot. When we’re newborn, we’re pretty much like human babies. Ghoul babies can nurse from ghoul mothers for awhile, which is a relief. They need to switch to flesh before their teeth come in, though, so that means flesh slurry, which is more complicated to make than you might think. For best results, you want a mix of blood, muscle tissue, organ tissue, and bone, especially marrow. We get better at pulling all our nutrients from just flesh as we mature, but babies aren’t as developed. Getting those varied tissues is a little more complicated than just getting flesh. Bone especially is challenging - more mature ghouls have no need for it, and it’s honestly kinda gross. You just have to hope that whoever you’re getting flesh from can start holding some bones for you. Not every source has easy access to bones. 

{Editing Note: I think I wrote bone too many times - it looks fake now. Bone. Bone.}

We get our ghoul teeth at the same time as our baby teeth. Our ghoul teeth fall out and are replaced too, but we keep growing new ones our whole lives, kinda like sharks. Funnily enough, I don’t think we grow extra human teeth, which seems like a strange way for evolution to take us, but what do I know, I’m not a biologist. At that point we can start eating regular flesh, and parents have the unenviable task of explaining to toddlers that they can’t just slide their teeth out whenever they want. Our other features come in a bit later - claws between 4 and 6, eyes with puberty. Let me tell you, the claws hurt coming in. I couldn’t hold a pencil for a month. My mom told the elementary school that I was deathly sick so she could keep me home, but I think Scarlet just pretended he’d broken both his hands and went in splints. I don’t envy him - stretching my claws did a lot to relieve the pain.

I’ll admit freely that, by our standards, I had a pretty charmed childhood. I fit into human society pretty easily, I had a mom who loved me and could provide for me, a patron and household to help pick up the slack, and ghoul friends my own age. I had the discipline to keep my true nature hidden from my human peers, and I don’t think I was even particularly traumatized by the pressure of performing humanity that much. I can safely attribute that to the fact that I had safe spaces throughout my life to let the charade drop. Most ghouls at least have that. Most, but not all.

Our integration into human society also means that we inevitably become entangled in human society. We become invested in the lives of our human peers, we befriend them, care about them. Sometimes we fall in love with them. Eating people seems like kind of a big secret to keep from a potential romantic partner - I certainly couldn’t manage it - but some ghouls form romantic relationships with humans nonetheless. Maybe some of these human partners eventually discover the truth and are willing to overlook it for the person they love, but I doubt it happens often. I’ve certainly never heard of it. I’ve heard of it going the other way, though, a human partner discovering the truth and reacting poorly. Someone always dies when that happens. I personally know a few ghouls who’ve dated humans, or are seriously involved with them. Frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I get that the heart wants what it wants, but some wants aren’t worth the risk.

{Editing Note: That last line feels… tense. Emotionally charged. Why? And should I change it?}

In my opinion, the gravest of these risks is what happens when a human and a ghoul decide they want to build a life together, but kids are already in the equation. The human-ghoul mixed family is probably the most toxic environment that a ghoul child could be raised in and conceivably survive. All that pressure of hiding your true nature from your peers as you grow up? That feeling of isolation that follows you everywhere you go among humans? All of the most crushing emotional turmoil I’ve described in this book so far? Imagine if there was no relief for that even at home with your family. I frankly have no idea how ghoul parents manage to feed themselves and their children without being caught, or how they manage to perform humanity so flawlessly and constantly that their literal immediate family never catches on. I don’t know how those children manage to survive to adulthood, but I imagine they have some seriously fucked up mental health problems by the time they do. Factor in the suspicion that they would inevitably face from our Society when they finally are able to join it properly - after all, who more likely to become a Judas or be Lost than a ghoul raised by humans? - and I’d be willing to bet most of them don’t make it out of their twenties.

Before we move on entirely from families in general and mixed families in particular, I’d like to take a quick aside to talk about “half-ghouls”. You hear about them in horror media fairly often, the biological child of a human and a ghoul. Authors love to ascribe all sorts of traits to these hypothetical creatures - greater and more monstrous than the sum of their parts, supernaturally strong and vicious, impossible to detect within human society, sometimes with traits that are blatantly impossible, like telepathy or mind control or just plain magic. All of that is obviously untrue, but it’s something of a point of contention as to whether or not a “half-ghoul” is even possible. None of the ghouls I’ve talked to seem to agree about whether it can happen, and a search of human medical literature was similarly inconclusive. Humans, at least, seem to think that it might be theoretically possible, but have never been able to verify it by observation or by medical experiment. Of the ghouls I know that have been romantically involved with humans, none of them have ever gotten a kid out of it. It’s one of those things where we just don’t know. If it were possible, I’m not even sure what the implications would be.

[masonscig]

i like it when you sleep

pairing | mason x sofía

word count | 2.2k

warnings | mention of anxiety, and general murphy nightmares. shameless smut. minors dni

author’s note | had an idea last night and was possessed by some kinda writing gods so here u go! my prompt fill for day five of hot in wayhaven, temperature. this is set sometime in the future where they’re not official and not living together, but they’re a lot more comfortable w each other – idk what book they’re gonna get together so have this vague scene mwah (i have not proofread this so enjoy the mess) also THIS TITLE IS SO LAST MINUTE SJDFJKKDFJ bc of that one song by the 1975 with a full sentence title that is v them 

•─────────────────•

She hasn’t had vivid dreams in a long time, and she’s not sure if she likes it that way or not.

Her dreams are just vague sensations with colors and shapes that never fully form, sometimes comforting ones that guide her through the night till she naturally wakes.

Other times, the creeping anxiety’s broken her into a cold sweat till she jumps awake, left with the distant feeling of Murphy’s fangs deep in her throat, her scar throbbing, the skin there hot.

Tonight’s one of those nights where she’s already woken up panting after outrunning something without a face or distinct features.

The room’s stifling already, but the air conditioning is on full blast. The old system isn’t nearly strong enough to cool down the apartment to her liking.

She shifts under the sheets again, trying to find a cool patch on the bed.

Can’t get comfortable. Can’t cool down. Can’t sleep.

She rolls onto her back, tracing lines from bump to bump on the popcorn ceiling. Her eyes are dried and each blink is scratchier than the last. Her lids are heavy, but her brain’s fighting sleep.

Mason’s next to her, arms folded behind his head, face gentle – his snores are soft and followed by sighs. He’s at his most peaceful like this.

Grabbing the cup of ice water from her nightstand, she takes a few refreshing gulps, tracing her fingers through the condensation on the outside of it, before tapping her cold fingertips to her cheeks.

There’s not much she can do besides lie there until her brain stops working overtime. Maybe then she’ll slip into the dreamless sleep she so desperately wants.

“Sofía?” He rasps groggily, his voice crackling.

It still gets her when he uses her name so casually.

“I can’t sleep,” she smiles weakly, making no move to curl up to his side.

“Didn’t you take some of that sleep shit before you laid down?” He asks, peering at her through a squinted eye, the other one squeezed shut.

It’s true she’s relied on sleep aids for a long time – but something about this summer’s made her immune to them. The drops she puts in the glass of water she chugs before bed are completely ineffective.

“I guess they just stopped working.”

Mason frowns, kicking the sheets off his legs. He’s wearing the soft shorts she bought him, the ones she picked because she knew the fabric wouldn’t make him want to claw his skin off.

“Did I wake you up?” She asks, rolling onto her side. She shakes her bangs away, brows furrowed.

He shrugs. “Not your fault. It doesn’t take much to get me up anyway.”

“It was the fucking water… I was drinking too loudly,” she murmurs, propping her head up with one hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I’ve got my fill. I’m rested.” A soft smile tugs at one side of his mouth. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

“You’re always welcome here. You know that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I don’t say thanks often, and when I do it goes unnoticed.” He stretches, the taut muscle rolling beneath his freckled skin.

Her eyes widen. “Oh wow, you really did. Four leaf clover moment.”

He shifts so that he’s on his side, too, inches away from her. “Nothin’ lucky about me.”

“Now’s the part where you say ‘I’m lucky to know you, Sofía’,” she jokes, squishing his cheeks together with her free hand, his brow quirked while she’s tugging his jaw open and closed.

“That’s a given, sweetheart.”

Closing the gap between them with a grin, she presses a kiss to his parted lips, giggling when he darts his tongue out to lick her.

“You’re so annoying,” she laughs, trying to roll away from him, but he just wraps his arms around her, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Don’t I know it.”

They spoon for a little while (she’s not sure how long), the ceiling fan whirring above them, the grasshoppers chirping relentlessly outside of her window.

The sweat’s still coming, even more so now that she’s cuddled up to him.

She tries and fails to reach her phone that’s on the other side of the nightstand, so Mason leans forward to tap her dark screen. The time is in big bold letters at the top of the screen, and despite her reading it four or five times just to be sure, it doesn’t change.

“I’ve gotta be up in a couple hours anyways,” she sighs, fully planning on brewing a pot of coffee and inhaling it throughout the entire day. “Might as well get up and finish the book I was reading.”

“How many hours?” He asks against her neck, kissing the scar there to punctuate his question.

“Three, I think.”

“You can fit a good nap in right after,” he chuckles, still buried in the dark sea of her hair between them.

“After what?” She asks, but it comes out more of a sigh when he suckles and nips her shoulder.

“After I fuck you senseless.” Her stomach flutters, her thighs clenching. He doesn’t beat around the bush, that’s for sure.

“Mason, you don’t have to, really. I’m a big girl – I can handle being tired for a day.”

“You’ve gotta patrol tomorrow, right?” His lips are pressed against her ear now, and his hands are splaying across her stomach.

He’s right. Tina’s cousin is visiting from out of town, so she jumped at the chance to relieve her for the night. Should be a huge regret, honestly, but she can’t bring herself to feel that way.

She sucks in a breath when his fingers inch past the waistband of her shorts, past the elastic of her underwear, past the trimmed hair above her folds, settling there with a slow swirl of his middle finger.

“Yeah, I do,” she’s already panting like a fucking fool – she can’t help what he does to her, though.

No one’s touch has ever made her feel this way.

“Gotta be well rested to protect the town.”

“Mhmm,” she agrees, groaning low when he adds two more fingers and picks up speed, rubbing her off at a furious pace.

She should be embarrassed by how fast he makes her come, but considering orgasms with Bobby were few and far between, she’s greedy with them now.

Once she got a taste of being thoroughly fucked and pleasured, she became shameless in collecting them from Mason.

Sucking her earlobe into his mouth, he nibbles the soft skin with a soft pant of his own. Her hand’s on his cock already, palming him through the thin fabric.

He slows his hand, setting an agonizing pace this time, and she’s rolling her hips to try and climax, but it isn’t working.

“Mason, please –”

“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he breathes into her ear, pulling his hand from her shorts and bringing it to his mouth, sucking his glistening fingers over her shoulder.

She whines, barely able to see his tongue dart in between his fingers from her peripheral. “I wanted to come –”

“Impatient ass. You will soon enough,” he smiles into her shoulder, kissing the freckled skin there this time.

She feels the warmth of his hand between her legs, and she’s expecting them to sink into her, but instead he’s hastily tugging her shorts and underwear to the side, hiking her leg in the air.

The fabric rips, and he’s got the audacity to chuckle like he didn’t just ruin her favorite pajama bottoms.

“Hey, those are my favorite –” she barely finishes her sentence when he teases her with his tip, running it up and down her heat.

His hand’s holding up her leg from the knee when he pushes into her.

The sweat rolls down the small of her back – the heat had become an afterthought the second he touched her cunt.

He circles his free arm around her waist, tugging her back till they’re skin to skin.

His hips begin to roll, stroking in and out rhythmically, and all she can do is lie there slack-jawed.

“Oh fuck, that’s so good.” She’s praising him in his favorite way – complimenting him through the pleasure – and that always excites and motivates him.

“Yeah? You like when I fuck you like this? Tell me,” he huffs shakily while he tries to keep his voice even.

She knows she’s got just as equal of a grip on him as he has on her. He’s begrudgingly admitted in the afterglow that he’s never fucked like this before, with both lust and affection intermingling.

“Yes, yes, please, just like that,” she chants, eyelids fluttering shut when his hips snap harder and harder, his arm tightening around her waist.

She digs her fingernails into his arm to anchor herself while he fucks her relentlessly, and he grunts into her ear when she starts bucking her hips, fucking him back.

Her sleeping shirt’s almost completely damp on the back, and it’s gross. Thankfully, they’re in sync, so he helps her slip it over her head, immediately cupping her tits and toying with her nipples.

He’s still fucking her like their lives depend on it, and he’s pressing hot, wet kisses to her back, shoulders, neck… and tweaking her nipples with an expert hand… 

It’s too much, and she’s overstimulated, clenching around him. “Shit, oh my god –”

With a quick maneuver, he’s tugged her underneath him, flat on her stomach, and rolls his hips into her steadily.

She’s open mouthed moaning into the pillow and he’s hitting all the right spots with the new angle and she’s clenching her legs so she feels tighter –

He’s singing his praises above her, shifting till he’s on his elbows on top of her, not a breath of space between them. The cool surface of his crystal necklace skims her back, raising goosebumps on her arms. 

He’s pressing the weight of his chest onto her back, sinking her further into the pillows.

He’s everywhere.

He’s all she can hear. All she can feel.

Any coherent thought of the long patrol and her uneasy dreams are long gone, and there’s him. Only him.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. Get your face out of that pillow. Let me hear you.” She’s already putty in his hands, nodding along to whatever he gravels in her ear, so she obliges.

The noises she’s making aren’t flattering in the slightest. They’re an awful mixture of whines and groans, the cadence of them matching the slap of his hips against her ass.

“Fuck,” he huffs as she raises her hips to meet him, lifting them barely an inch or two off the bed.

If her sounds are getting him off, then his are sending her into another realm.

There’s something practically indescribable about getting another person off without trying to. Mason’s probably felt this high a million times in his existence, but it’s new to her.

With a few swivels of her hips, she’s got him just as worked up as her, and he lets her know.

“God, you’re fuckin’ gorgeous – so fuckin’ tight around me. Your cunt’s perfect for me, Sofía, oh my god,” he pants into her hair, gathering it in one hand at the nape of her neck.

He gently tugs her head to the side so he can kiss her, her eyes are already fluttering shut, her mouth parted as she’s nearing her high.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he murmurs, still watching her profile while she concentrates on the orgasm on the horizon.

“Just – fuck me like that – a little harder – and talk to me –” she manages a few broken demands.

“You’re doing so well taking my cock like that – can’t wait to feel you squeeze around me when you come,” he pants, curling his hips so he’s deeper in her, and she all but cries out, slapping a hand over her mouth.

“No, no, let me hear you – wanna see your pretty lips when you say my name –” his hips are stuttering. He’s close.

Thankfully, she gets there first, calling out his name, clenching her thighs to ride it out while he still pumps in and out of her erratically. He’s not far behind her.

When he comes in her, he groans this whiny groan like he’s the one being fucked into oblivion.

He slides out of her gently before plopping onto the bed next to her, tugging her to his side.

“I don’t know if I’ll wake up in 2 hours like I’m supposed to,” she murmurs, eyes heavy and half lidded from getting her back blown out in the dead of night.

“So I did a good job then?” He smirks, pressing a kiss to her sweaty bangs.

“A perfect job. You should just recreate this every time,” she sighs, pressing a kiss to the skin nearest to her, right on his outer chest.

“You’re asking me to fuck you like that every night? Don’t know if I can recreate it perfectly, but I’m up for the challenge,” he laughs, running a palm down her side.

She can’t remember what she says after that, as she’s fallen asleep topless, sweaty, and in ripped pants almost instantly.

He stays – watches her as she sleeps this time. And he thinks that she’s the most peaceful he’s ever seen her.