#full stack development team

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[levelup9166]

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[reiding-writing]

Heyy!! i was wondering if you could perchance do a drabble with dad!spencer and mom!bau!reader where they've gotten into the rhythm of calling each other mommy and daddy in front of the kids and one of them accidentally slips up and does it work without realising. And then the team is like "hold on 🤨" (probably morgan) and they have to defend themselves. Just something i've been thinking about and i don't have the artistic ability to right it myself but you do! Thank youuuu! xxx

SLIP UP. /spencer reid/

your at-home naming habits find their way into the office.

bau!mom!reader 1.1k fluff masterlist.

a/n | this is so funny i love it.

The bullpen hums with its usual energy—phones ringing, keyboards clacking, conversations weaving through the space.

It’s late, and exhaustion weighs on everyone like a heavy fog. Cases have been stacking up, the paperwork never-ending, and you’re all running on caffeine and whatever sugar-laden snack Garcia has left in the breakroom.

You and Spencer, despite being used to sleepless nights—courtesy of two small children at home—are still feeling the burn.

Parenting while profiling is a delicate balance, and some days, it feels like you barely hold it together. But you've found ways to cope, to slip into a rhythm that works.

Spencer leans over his desk, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he scans a report. His hair is slightly disheveled—likely from running his hands through it—and his tie is loosened, his sleeves rolled up. He looks exactly how you feel, drained.

You, seated across from him, are going through another file when you sigh and reach for the next document. “Pass Mommy the file, please,”

The moment the words leave your mouth, the bullpen stills. For a brief second, no one reacts. Not even Spencer, who doesn’t hesitate to slide the file over to you, his tired brain not even registering what just happened.

But then—

“Hold on, what?”

Your head snaps up so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. Across the table, Morgan is staring at you with wide eyes, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. JJ’s eyebrows are raised nearly to her hairline, and even Rossi has paused his paperwork, looking mildly amused.

Hotch looks like he’s trying very hard not to react.

You glance at Spencer, who is blinking rapidly, his brain trying to catch up with what just happened.

And then, it hits you.

“Oh my God.” Your stomach drops. Heat rushes to your face. “I didn’t mean—”

Morgan leans forward, elbows on the table, his smirk growing. “Did you just refer to yourself as Mommy?”

Spencer makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. “It’s— It’s not—”

“Because I swear I just heard that,” Morgan continues, clearly enjoying himself.

JJ covers her mouth, eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter.

You groan, dropping your face into your hands. “It’s not what you think,”

“Oh, I think it’s exactly what I think.” Morgan chuckles, leaning back in his chair. “Reid, you calling her Mommy at home?”

Spencer makes another choked noise, shaking his head furiously. “No! I mean— yes, but not like that!”

JJ snorts, and even Hotch finally cracks, pinching the bridge of his nose like he’s debating whether or not to intervene.

You lift your head, groaning again. “We have two kids under four. There’s a lot of third-person referencing, okay?”

Morgan raises an eyebrow, amused.

Spencer, still red-faced, starts rambling. “It’s a psychological phenomenon, actually. When individuals—particularly parents—are frequently addressed in a particular way, their brains develop an associative response, reinforcing the use of the terms even in situations outside the expected context. It’s entirely innocent. Just an unconscious linguistic habit.”

Morgan whistles low. “Damn, Pretty Boy. You really just tried to profile your way out of calling your wife ‘Mommy’ in front of us,”

Spencer groans, burying his face in his hands.

Your face feels impossibly warm. “We’re tired, Morgan. We haven’t had a full night’s sleep in—” You glance at Spencer. “How long has it been?”

“Three years, three months, and sixteen days,” he answers automatically.

Morgan lets out a low whistle. “Damn,”

Emily places a hand over her heart. “That’s actually kind of adorable,”

Garcia practically vibrates with excitement. “This is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I need to hear more,”

“There’s nothing more to hear,” Spencer says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s just a habit. Strictly innocent,”

“Oh, we believe you,” Rossi says, the corners of his mouth twitching. “That doesn’t mean we’re going to let it go,”

“Not a chance,” Morgan agrees.

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “This is never going away, is it?”

“Nope,” JJ says cheerfully.

Spencer sighs, rubbing his temples. “Great.”

And just like that, the teasing begins.

For the rest of the day—and likely for weeks to come—you hear variations of:

“Daddy, can you pass me that report?” from Emily.

“I don’t know, Mommy, what do you think?” from Morgan.

Garcia, of course, takes it the farthest, occasionally referring to you both as “Mommy and Daddy dearest,” complete with exaggerated winks.

By the time you make it home that evening, you collapse onto the couch with a groan, Spencer falling beside you.

“I’m never going to live this down,” you mumble.

“At least they think it’s funny,” Spencer says, leaning his head back against the cushions.

You sigh. “This is your fault,”

He turns his head to look at you, eyebrows raised. “My fault?”

“You didn’t even hesitate when I said it. You just handed me the file like it was totally normal,”

His lips twitch. “To be fair, it is normal,”

You nudge him with your foot. “Not at work, it isn’t,”

He chuckles, then tilts his head, considering. “Maybe if we just… pretend it never happened, they’ll drop it,”

You snort. “You really think that’s going to work?”

“…No,”

“Exactly.” You groan again, rubbing your hands over your face. “I’m never going to hear the end of this,”

Spencer smiles softly, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “At least we’re in it together, Mommy,”

You open your eyes just to glare at him. “You better not start doing that on purpose,”

He presses his lips together, trying to suppress a grin.

“Spencer,” you warn.

His grin widens. “Yes, Mommy?”

You grab a throw pillow and smack him with it, and his laughter fills the room, warm and familiar.

Exhausted as you both are, you wouldn’t trade this—your life, your family, the teasing from your team—for anything in the world.

[secretbigboylover]

Buffet Date

CW: Weight gain, rapid weight gain, teasing.

Trevor was trying to ignore how full his belly was and how good it felt. His big belly spilled over his lap and pushed his favorite button up shirt to its limit. It was a sky-blue shirt with yellow rubber duckies dotted all around it. His boyfriend, Max, had picked it out as a gift when they first moved in together. The same Max that confided in him that he liked his men chunky, the same Max that kept buying Trevor’s favorite snacks even though Trevor was on a diet. The same Max that innocently suggested a buffet for their date night.

Trevor knew he’d over eat, but couldn’t help himself and he was sure Max did too. The food just smelled amazing. There were so many options from pizza to pasta, stakes to hotdogs, every fried savory food he could think of, and the desserts were so mouthwatering. Trevor didn’t used to be a big guy, but boy did he have a big appetite. He had played football in high school and in college. Trevor had a wide build that made him the first pick on any team. He even had the good looks to make any man swoon or at least he used to. Now, thanks in part to dating Max, Trevor felt he had lost some of that. He was still broad and tried to be athletic, but had started developing a bit of a gut. Sure, some of his gym buddies when through bulking phases and got a bit chunky before getting ripped, but Trevor didn’t do any body building stuff. He liked to keep a lean muscle look. Now staring at an orb of a gut he groaned. He was so full and the food was so good. Rubbing his taught stomach only showed just how much of a pig he made of himself, but it also felt good. He didn’t want to admit it, but a part of Trevor really liked this feeling of being over stuffed. It was a good excuse to let Max dote on him while he just digested. He knew he should be more active, but Max always looked so happy when Trevor ate too much. Maybe it was time to give in? That though vanished when he looked down at the sad state of his favorite shirt.

The day he had gotten the shirt Max had taken him on a magical date to the winter fare. They had gone ice-skating, Trevor had tried to win Max a stuffed animal, they had hot chocolate, and road the Faris wheel. They had stopped by a little boutique before going home. It was filled with all kinds of crazy and goofy shirts. When Trevor saw the rubber ducky shirt he fell in love and he was over joyed when Max bought it for him. They took it home right away. Trevor was so swept up by how cute it was that he didn’t realize it was a size too big. Max had ensured him that he still looked cute in it and the bigger size only gave him room to grow.

Now diamonds of doughy flesh poked between the buttons. Trevor leaned back and stroke his belly. He couldn’t imagen taking another bite. He had already stuffed himself with four full plates. Trevor vowed this would be the last buffet date for the year. He would get back on his fitness grind and fit back into his favorite shirt. Once Max came back, he would tell him his master plan about getting his summer beach bod ready.

Max came back with three plates, one with a few slices of pizza, one with a slice of cheesecake, and the other stacked with two slices of strawberry cheesecake and warm brownies.

          “Sorry for the wait. I heard they were bringing out a fresh batch of brownies and I know how you love them.” Max said.

Trevor completely forgot about his aching belly the second he smelled the brownies. They were so rich. He could smell the semi-sweet chocolate and could almost taste it. His summer body forgotten he chowed down on the brownies. They were even better than he imagined. So dark and rich, with the perfect smooth fudge texture. They practically melted in his mouth. Trevor inhaled the last few and the cheesecake. Without a second thought he got up and raced towards the brownie station.

They had set out two massive sheets, still steaming. Like a child possessed, he quickly loaded his plate high with brownies. As he walked back to his table he had to peak over the mountain of brownies and had missed Max’s massive grin. Max was full on laughing by the time Trevor came back to the table.

“What, did I take too many?” Trevor said.

“No baby, your shirt.” Max said as he tried, and failed, to keep in his laughter.

Trevor looked down and saw two buttons in the middle of his shirt had popped off, his soft belly exposed to the air. He turned the deepest shade of crimson and hid behind his tower of brownies.

“Aw baby, no need to be embarrassed. I think you look very sexy with that soft belly.” Max said.

“Then why were you laughing?” Treavor said.

“Because I got an email that your new shirt had arrived.” Max said.

This did not quite answer Trevor’s confusion and Max recognized that and continued.

“I know how much you love that shirt and I know it has been fitting a little snug recently. So, I found out that store had a webpage and, on a whim, bought it the next size up. I’m just laughing because right as I got the email your buttons flew off.” Max said.

Trevor was still embarrassed but touched. He looked down at the plate and a had a wicked idea.

“Well let’s see if you can pop the rest of my button’s off.” Trevor said.

Now it was Max’s turn to be flustered.

“Wait what?” Max said.

Trevor wasn’t sure what came over him. He still wanted his lean summer bod, but loved seeming Max flustered and new this would do the trick.

“Yea, just feed me till I pop.” Trevor said as he pushed the plate of brownies towards Max.

Still flustered, but now definitely horny, Max picked up a brownie and popped it in Trevor’s mouth. Instantly Trevor was in heaven. The brownie was still as good, but the extra edge of having his sexy boyfriend feed them too him was doing wonders. Trevor knew in that moment his new shirt wouldn’t last very long.

[womenhoops]

AAU GAME p II

It was game day—and for the first time ever, Azzi was facing Paige in an official matchup.

They’d known each other for years—two, to be exact—but this was their first time squaring off in AAU. Different states, different teams, but the same competitive fire.

Not that Azzi was nervous or anything. Okay, maybe a little. Winning mattered��not just for the scoreboard, but for the bragging rights. So when she spotted Paige during warm-ups, she flashed a quick, confident smile and locked in.

At least, she tried to stay locked in—until the tip-off, when Paige casually strolled over to her side, leaned in, and whispered 

“You look so pretty, Azz. Can’t wait to beat you on the court.” 

Azzi’s eyes rolled so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull, and her stomach did a full somersault. But she wasn’t about to let Paige get in her head. So she hip-checked her, smirked, and shot back: 

“Good luck losing, P.”

The moment the whistle blew, it was war.

Azzi and Paige went at each other like they’d been waiting their whole lives for this—every drive, every shot, every defensive stop charged with something electric. The problem? Azzi’s team couldn’t keep up. Every perfect pass was fumbled. Every set play collapsed. By halftime, she’d already dropped 20 points—and they were still down 15.

Paige noticed.

She wanted to win—badly—but watching Azzi fight so hard, alone, made something twist in her chest. Azzi was having the kind of night players dreamed of, yet the score kept slipping further away.

Paige tightened her defense, face-guarding Azzi as they traded blows.

"Your shooting form is so perfect, Az," Paige teased, sticking to her like a shadow. "Let’s see if you can make it count."

Azzi, breathing hard, shot back, "Keep talking, P. I’ll still drop 40 on you." But she knew that the game was slipping away from her finger tips. 

Their banter was playful, but the tension was real. The crowd buzzed, mesmerized as they went bucket-for-bucket—Paige with the advantage of a stacked team, Azzi with nothing but sheer will. 

The crowd roared as Azzi pulled up from deep - nothing but net. 

Again. And Again. And Again. 

The gymnasium buzzed with electricity as she single-handedly kept her team within striking distance against Paige's powerhouse squad. Every time Azzi scored, the cheers grew louder, the energy more palpable. She wasn't just playing basketball - she was putting on a show, a masterclass in determination against impossible odds.

Paige wiped sweat from her brow, watching as Jason - that obnoxious guy from yesterday who needed to develop a sudden interest in Antarctic exploration - led a new chant: "A-Z-Z-I! Best game! Cutest dimples!" The entire gym picked it up, their voices bouncing off the rafters.

"Seriously?" Paige muttered under her breath, stealing a glance at Azzi, who was trying (and failing) to hide her grin as she backpedaled on defense. That dimpled smile only fueled Paige's competitive fire hotter.

Then came the play that changed everything.

Third quarter. Two minutes left. Paige's team up 28. The game should have been over, but Azzi kept coming, kept fighting. She split the defense with a vicious crossover, driving hard to the basket when-

CRACK.

Paige's teammate - Sarah, a senior with a mean streak and obvious jealousy issues (to be fair, Paige was never her biggest fan, she was not the best player and was definitely selfish which made no sense to a team sport like basketball)  - stepped in late and threw a dirty hip-check that sent Azzi airborne. 

Time seemed to stop as Azzi's body crashed to the hardwood, the sickening thud echoing through the suddenly silent gym.

Paige saw red.

In three long strides, she was in Sarah's face, shoving her backward. "What the actual hell was that?" Paige's voice shook with barely contained rage. "We don't play dirty!"

Sarah smirked, wiping her hands on her shorts. "Someone had to slow her down. She's making us look bad."

"We're up twenty-eight!" Paige's hands balled into fists at her sides. "You're just jealous because-"

"Because what?" Sarah challenged, stepping closer. "Because this whole tournament's in love with her? Including that little boy over there?" She jerked her chin toward Jason, who was looking worried from the stands… 

That girl - that jealous, 18-year-old senior - had just deliberately hurt her best friend. Her Azzi. The one who FaceTimed her every night until they both fell asleep mid-sentence. The one whose dimples appeared even when she was trying to be serious. The one who'd sobbed into Paige's shoulder when Olaf melted in Frozen, whispering "But he was just trying to help Anna" between hiccuping breaths.

And now she was on the ground, clutching her side in pain.

Paige's world narrowed to a single point of white-hot rage. The sounds of the gym faded - the shocked gasps, the concerned murmurs, even the referee's whistle disappeared. All she could see was Sarah's smug face and Azzi's pained expression. Her hands trembled with barely restrained fury as she took another threatening step forward, muscles coiled like a spring-

"Paige."

That voice—Azzi's voice, strained but achingly familiar—sliced through Paige's red haze like dawn breaking through a storm. It had always been her anchor, this connection that transcended distance and circumstance. When they were states apart and Paige's late-night frustration texts came through in all caps. When that careless turnover during the U17 championships nearly cost them everything, and Azzi's quiet "We got this, P" steadied her trembling hands. When narrow-minded whispers about Azzi's skin tone curled through Argentinian gyms like poison smoke, and Paige felt her fists clench until Azzi's fingers laced through hers—wordless, unshakable.

Just one word. Just her name. But it was enough to make the world start turning again.

Azzi was still on the ground, clutching her ribs, but her eyes were locked on Paige. Not the trainers rushing over. Not her own teammates. Paige.

The blonde exhaled sharply, the fight draining from her shoulders as she turned away from Sarah and dropped to one knee beside Azzi. 

"You okay?" The words came out rougher than she intended.

Azzi winced as she tried to sit up. "Oh now you care?" Despite the pain, that trademark smirk played at her lips.

"Shut up," Paige shot back, but there was no heat in it. She slipped an arm behind Azzi's shoulders to help her up. "Can you stand or not?"

Behind them, Sarah's venomous whisper cut through the murmuring crowd: "Unbelievable. Queen Paige bending the rules for her little crush.”

Paige didn't bother turning. Her response came low and dangerous, each word measured like a knife thrust: "It's called sportsmanship. Look it up sometime." Then, barely audible but razor-sharp, she added: "And that's my best friend, you bitch."

Her fingers lingered on Azzi's elbow - a fleeting touch that said everything her words couldn't. The warmth of contact, the unspoken check-in, the silent promise that this wasn't over.

The arena erupted as Azzi waved off the trainer with that stubborn set to her jaw Paige knew so well. When she tested her weight, rolling her ankle with careful precision, that trademark grin flashed - bright enough to make Paige's chest tighten.

"Might wanna leash your attack dog," Azzi teased, eyes glinting with challenge, "before I return the favor."

Paige snorted, the sound equal parts exasperation and reluctant admiration. "Please. Like you'd fight dirty." But her gaze betrayed her, scanning every microexpression on Azzi's face for signs of real pain - the slight tightening around her eyes, the barely-there hitch in her breathing that no one else would notice.

The gym fell into that charged silence unique to crucial free throws. Paige remained rooted, watching with singular focus as Azzi's routine unfolded - two precise dribbles, that steadying exhale Paige had watched her practice a thousand times, then-

Swish.

The explosion of sound was deafening. Jason and his cronies leapt up like puppets on strings, their obnoxious cheers grating on Paige's nerves. (She hated how his eyes tracked Azzi's every move, hated how he reduced her best friend to "hot" when Azzi was so much more - and if that realization made Paige's stomach twist, well, that was nobody's business.)

But all that noise faded to static as Paige watched Azzi's face transform - the way her eyes lit up with that pure, unfiltered joy that made the scoreboard irrelevant, the pain meaningless, the whole world narrow to this moment.

The whistle's shrill note brought them back. As they retreated on defense, Paige caught Azzi's eye across the court and mouthed two familiar words - their words: "Show off."

And when Azzi grinned back - that full, dimpled smile that had been Paige's favorite since they were fourteen - it felt like winning something far more important than a game.

By the fourth quarter, both Azzi and Paige were benched—each on their own team’s sidelines, but their eyes kept finding each other across the court. Paige couldn’t help but watch in awe. Even down by 32, Azzi was still leading. Leaning forward on the bench, calling out plays, clapping for teammates who—let’s be real—probably shouldn’t have been playing competitive basketball. But that was Azzi. Relentless, even in a lost cause.

And when one of her drawn-up plays actually worked, her smile lit up the entire gym. Paige had seen that grin a thousand times—during late-night snack runs where Paige sad she would drive azzi to get her favorite type of ice cream, when they’d FaceTimed each other after stupid fights—but it still hit her the same way every time. 

Like sunlight breaking through clouds.

When the final buzzer sounded, Paige’s team won by 29. But as the players lined up for post-game handshakes, Azzi tugged Paige closer by the jersey, her lips brushing Paige’s ear.

"You won," she whispered, breath warm against Paige’s skin. "But I still dropped more points than you."

Paige’s stomach did a backflip. She should’ve fired back with some cocky remark, should’ve rolled her eyes and called Azzi a sore loser. But instead, she just smiled—genuine, unguarded, proud. Because damn it, Azzi had been unreal tonight.

Then Sarah ruined the moment. Again. 

When Azzi extended her fist for the customary bump, Sarah pretended not to see, walking right past her with a dismissive scoff.  And, Paige’s blood went from warm to boiling in half a second.

Before Azzi could even react, Paige grabbed Sarah’s wrist, yanking her back hard enough to make her stumble. 

"What the hell is your problem?" Paige hissed, voice low and dangerous.

Sarah jerked her arm free, glaring. "You’re really picking her over your own team?"

"I’m picking respect over whatever petty bullshit you’re on," Paige shot back. "Apologize. Now."

The gym had gone eerily quiet. Even the refs were watching.

Sarah’s jaw tightened, but under Paige’s furious stare, she finally muttered, "Whatever. Sorry, I guess."

Azzi, still standing there, just arched a brow. "Wow. That was almost convincing."

Paige bit back a laugh.

As Sarah stormed off, Paige felt Azzi's shoulder bump against hers, their fingers brushing in that silent language only they understood. The contact lasted barely a second, but it carried volumes - admiration, solidarity, something warmer than either would name.

Then came the Fudd family, cutting through the dispersing crowd like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. "My two favorite warriors!" Azzi's mom beamed, already raising her phone. "We need pictures - this was historic!"

Azzi groaned but didn't resist as her parents pulled them together. "Mom, we just got our butts kicked-"

"Nonsense!" Her father interjected, throwing an arm around both girls. His coaching instincts surfaced as he addressed Paige: "You played lights out, kid, but..." He tapped his temple knowingly. "Third quarter? Should've forced left more often. Right side was overplaying you all night."

Paige felt her cheeks flush - not from criticism, but from how effortlessly he included her in his basketball wisdom. The way he analyzed her game with the same attentive care he gave Azzi.

"You're absolutely right, Coach," she admitted, rubbing her neck. "I got too comfortable with the cross-court passes."

Azzi's dad grinned, squeezing them tighter. "Ah, but when you two matched up?" He whistled. "Best basketball I've seen all season. Even if someone-" he pinched Azzi's cheek, "-needs to work on her help defense."

"Dad!" Azzi swatted his hand away, but her protest dissolved into laughter when Paige joined in teasing her.

As camera flashes popped around them, Paige caught herself leaning into this moment - into the easy way Azzi's parents folded her into their family orbit. The way Mrs. Fudd fixed Paige's sweaty ponytail without asking, the way Coach Fudd's advice carried both challenge and belief.

Azzi met her eyes over their posed smiles, and in that glance Paige saw understanding. This family wasn't just becoming important to her. They were becoming hers.

"Mom, where are we eating? We’re starving."

Azzi’s voice was half-whine, half-laugh as she tugged at her jersey, still damp with sweat from the game.

Miss Fudd smiled sweetly at Paige—a smile that carried just a little too much knowing amusement—then turned to Azzi.

"Well," she said, tapping her chin, "Paige actually asked me earlier if she could take you out tonight. Just the two of you."

Azzi’s head whipped toward Paige so fast her braids smacked her own cheek. "You—what?"

Paige’s face burned. She hadn’t expected Mrs. Fudd to just announce it like that. She’d imagined pulling Azzi aside later, playing it cool—Hey, there’s this place I found, you wanna check it out?—not having it laid bare in front of her entire family.

“I mean, yeah,” Paige muttered, suddenly very interested in retying her shoelaces. “If you want. No big deal.” She kept her voice casual, but the words came out too fast. “Just thought since it’s our last night, and I’m flying back to Minnesota after lunch tomorrow, and we don’t have a game—”

Azzi’s eyes narrowed, stoping Paige’s resembling to remember that Paige had asked her parents permission. "You asked my mom? Like, formally?"

"I was being polite," Paige shot back, defensive. "Unlike some people who just show up at my house unannounced and eat all my cereal."

Azzi opened her mouth to retaliate, but her mom cut in, laughter in her voice. "It’s settled, then. You two go have fun. But, Azzi—" She held up a warning finger. "Phone on. Loud. And back by eleven."

"Mom, we’re not twelve," Azzi groaned.

"And yet," her dad chimed in without looking up from his clipboard, "somehow, you still forget to text when you're running late."

Paige bit back a grin. Then she leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi's ear as she whispered: "Go get ready, princess. I'll meet you in an hour at our hotel lobby."

The reaction was instant—Azzi’s breath hitched, her neck flushing pink where Paige’s words had touched skin. (Totally normal best friend behavior, she told herself.)

"Bold of you to assume I'm saying yes," she muttered, but the way her fingers twitched against her gym bag strap betrayed her.

Paige smirked, stepping back. “You will. And wear something white.” A pause, just long enough to make Azzi’s pulse jump. “So we can match.”

And of course—Azzi did.

——

Paige had changed four times before settling on dark jeans and a crisp white button-down, sleeves rolled to her elbows. Casual but put-together—the perfect balance between I didn’t try too hard and I absolutely did, but I’ll deny it if you call me out.

(Which Azzi always did.)

Meanwhile, Azzi stood frozen in her bathroom, clutching a tube of mascara like it might bite her. Since when do you care this much? She’d swiped on a little makeup—just enough to make her eyes pop, just subtle enough to play it off as habit. The sweater was fine. The jeans were fine. Everything’s fine.

The elevator dinged, and there she was—soft blue sweater clinging to her shoulders, and white jeans that should’ve been illegal, hair still damp and curling at the ends where it brushed her collarbones. Paige’s throat went dry.

"You’re late," Paige said, checking her watch with exaggerated annoyance.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth tugged up. "By two minutes. And you’re staring."

"Am not."

"You literally haven’t blinked since the doors opened." Azzi stepped closer, tilting her head. Was the mascara too much? Did she notice? "What, do I have something on my face?"

Yes. Your face. Which is the problem. 

Paige swallowed hard. "Shut up and let’s go. We’re gonna miss our reservation."

Azzi grinned. "Oh, so it’s a reservation now? Not just ‘grabbing food’ like you said?"

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Paige’s chest tightened. Yeah. That’s the issue.

The walk to the place was quick, and in silence. Both teenagers immerse in their own thoughts. Paige had scouted this place carefully—a small Italian spot with dim lighting, great pasta, and, most importantly, atmosphere. Quiet enough to talk, but not so fancy they’d feel awkward. Just… intimate.

Not a date. Best friends can have intimate dinners.

The second they walked in, Azzi’s eyebrows shot up. "Ohhh. This kind of dinner."

Paige’s stomach dropped. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing." Azzi smirked, trailing a finger over the white tablecloth. "Just… candles? Fancy napkins? You reserved this, didn’t you?"

Paige had. She’d also requested the corner booth and may or may not have Googled best date spots in the city before remembering—not a date.

"Shut up," she muttered, sliding into the seat. "I just didn’t wanna end up at some chain place with your dad’s playbook spread over the table."

Azzi laughed, leaning forward. "You planned this. Admit it."

Paige’s pulse spiked. Azzi was too close, her grin too knowing. "Yeah, well," she deflected, "someone had to. You’d have dragged me to the first smoothie place you saw."

"Damn right." Azzi picked up the menu, then paused. "P… there’s nothing here you’d eat. No fries. No plain chicken tenders. Just… vegetables." She squinted. "Did you pick this place for me?"

Paige’s ears burned. "No. I just… wanted to try something new."

Azzi’s expression softened. "You hate new."

"I don’t hate it."

"You once cried over a menu because they ‘changed the fries.’"

"That was one time—"

Azzi reached across the table, her fingers brushing Paige’s wrist. "Hey." Her voice was quieter now, teasing but tender. "You could’ve just said you wanted to take me somewhere nice."

Paige’s breath caught. Because it’s you. Because I’d sit through a hundred vegetable plates if it meant watching you smile like this. Instead, she shrugged. "Figured you deserved a break from my culinary crimes."

Azzi squeezed her hand. "You’re ridiculous."

Their conversation flowed as easily as it always did—like they were picking up right where they’d left off, like no time had passed at all. Dinner was… perfect. And they’d missed each other so much - being best friends in different states was not for the weak. 

They argued over breadsticks (Paige dunked hers in ranch; which the brunette called it a "culinary crime"). They debated the best NBA players which was not a big discussion given that Azzi had very limites knowledge on the matter (Paige fought hard for Luka; Azzi, predictably, Steph). 

They laughed so hard at one point that the couple next to them shot them dirty looks, and Azzi had to press her napkin to her mouth to stifle a snort. And the blonde found that the most cute thing ever, but she would deny that with her life. 

But then, as the waiter cleared their plates, Azzi grew quiet. She traced the rim of her glass, her voice softer when she finally spoke.

"You didn’t have to do this, you know."

Paige frowned. "Do what, Az?”

"All of it." Azzi gestured between them. "The dinner, the… whatever this is. We could have done something casual. Your company Is more than enough, P.”

Paige’s chest tightened. 

"I didn’t want to," she said instead.

Azzi looked up, holding her gaze. "Why not?"

The air between them crackled. Paige’s mouth went dry. She was not quite sure of the “why”. 

But before she could answer, Azzi’s phone buzzed loudly on the table.

MOM: 30 minutes, Azzi. Don’t make me come find you.

The spell broke. Azzi groaned, flopping back in her seat. "Ugh, kill me."

Paige exhaled, equal parts relieved and frustrated.  "

C’mon, I will ask for the check, and we can still make it on time. Don’t worry princess.“ 

When the check came, Azzi immediately reached for her wallet. "Split it?"

The blonde snatched the bill before the younger girl’s fingers could graze it. "Nope."

Azzi rolled her eyes. "Come on, P. I ate half your breadsticks. Least I can do is—"

"I invited you," Paige said firmly, sliding her card into the leather folder before Azzi could protest. "My treat."

Azzi opened her mouth to argue—then stopped.

There was something in the way Paige said it. Not just stubborn, but certain. Like it mattered to her. Like this—taking care of Azzi, even in this small way—was something she wanted to do.

A strange warmth fluttered in Azzi’s chest.

Oh.

She’d always teased Paige for being competitive, but this wasn’t that. This was… intentional. The way Paige had picked the restaurant knowing Azzi would love it. The way she’d insisted on walking her back. The way she was looking at her now—chin tilted, eyes soft—like Azzi was something precious.

You do this a lot, don’t you?

The realization hit her like a delayed pass, right to the ribs.

Paige always took care of her.

The extra Gatorade in her bag when Azzi forgot hers. The way she’d text "You good?" after a tough loss. The time she’d had sent a care package all the way from Minessota because Azzi had mentioned feeling sick during a FaceTime. All these little things, piling up.

And Azzi—oblivious, glitchy Azzi—had never let herself think about why it made her stomach swoop.

So, she decided to be a little bold:  "You never answered my question," Azzi said lightly.

"What question?"

"Mean Streets," Azzi teased, bumping her shoulder. "You still owe me that movie night."

Paige’s pulse jumped. You have no idea what you do to me. "Yeah, well. Maybe next time we’re in the same hotel."

Azzi grinned. “How about you sneak into my room tonight given that I have no roommate? "

Paige's fingers twitched against her jeans. Just a movie. Just friends. But her throat had gone dry as desert asphalt in July. "Your mom would literally murder me if she caught me sneaking in after curfew."

Azzi's eyes glittered under the hotel's exterior lights, mischief written in the curve of her smile. "Since when do you care about rules?" She stepped closer, the toe of her sneaker bumping Paige's. "Come on. We've stayed up later at tournaments. And it's not like—" Her voice dropped, suddenly shy, "—it's not like we'd be doing anything wrong."

That's the problem, Paige thought wildly. I might lose control if you keep looking at me like that.

The confession nearly slipped out right there between the parked cars and humming streetlights. Instead, she cleared her throat. "What time's lights out?"

"Eleven." Azzi rocked back on her heels, suddenly nervous. "But you don't have to—"

"I'll be there at 10:45." The words left Paige's mouth before her brain caught up. "I can bring the snacks: Sour Patch Kids and those weird peanut butter crackers you like too.”

Azzi's resulting smile could've powered the entire hotel. 

"Deal." 

She turned toward the entrance, then glanced back over her shoulder, damp brunette curls catching the light. "Don't chicken out,  you already know my room number.”

And to be fair, Paige had actually memorized it the second azzi told her. 

10:42 PM - Third Floor Hallway

Paige counted doors with her heartbeat thundering in her ears. 1124...1126... The ice machine down the hall rattled like her nerves. This was stupid. This shouldn't feel so monumental. They'd shared beds before—crammed together in the Fudds' cabin last summer, limbs tangled during movie nights in Minnesota. 

But those times had been easy. Safe.

They were also never actually alone. 

Never after Azzi had looked at her like that over breadsticks.

She raised her hand to knock—then froze. 

She was freaking out because she knew what this meant. It was painfully clear she had a crush on her best friend. But did Azzi feel the same? What would that even mean for them? For their friendship? ? And then there was Jason—the guy Azzi had shut down, but still. He was a boy, and that somehow made it different.

She remembered their conversation last night—Azzi confessing she’d never kissed anyone, Paige admitting her own experiences weren’t as wild as people assumed. The way Azzi’s eyes had lingered when she’d said, "you already know my room number."

Before she could second-guess herself any longer, Paige knocked.

The door swung open almost immediately—like Azzi had been waiting on the other side.

And there she was: damp curls framing her face, oversized hoodie slipping off one shoulder, pajama shorts that Paige was pretty sure were hers (stolen in Minnesota, no doubt).

"You gonna stand out here all night?" Azzi smirked. "Or are you coming in?"

Paige’s throat went dry. "Was working up to it."

"Scared, Bueckers?"

"Of you? Please." 

The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in the warm, vanilla-scented dark. 

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 4: corn maze | G | wc: 1,147

uhhh i know i'm the one who came up with the corn maze prompt.. but hay bales suited this story better 🧍‍♀️

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Where the hell is that kid?”

“Probably back there where I said we should’ve gone left.”

“You go find him then if—” Steve cuts himself off when he comes face to face with another dead end. The stack of hay bales mock him. “Alright. You know what, fine. I give up.”

“You give up.”

“I give up.” Steve plops down onto a pile of stray straw at the base of the five-bale-tall wall.

“That’s not the Harrington I know.” Eddie says, a smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, well, if this was a corn maze like they normally have every year, I’d just walk through the walls to the center. But no. They just had to have a crazy amount of hay this year, didn’t they?”

Eddie laughs at him, the bastard. Steve takes a second to glare furiously at him. It’s almost enough to kill off the unforeseen crush he’d developed on their newest party member, but even now, Eddie’s frustrating and frustratingly good looking.

The cold has brought some prickles of pink to his cheeks, the wind that would flood down on them whenever they’d turned down a parallel leg of the maze having done wonders to his hair, the exasperated smile he’s currently sporting.. Damn him and damn his pretty.. everything.

“Who would’ve thought that Captain of every team he’s on Harrington would only ever be a bad sport when it comes to harmless, family fun mazes.”

“...I’m not directionally gifted. Shut up.”

“Do you want me to take the lead, or do you actually want me to leave you here in the dirt?” Eddie holds out a hand for him to take.

Steve has no choice but to take it.

“Damn, your hands are cold!” Eddie says, pulling him up, “Alright sweetheart, you hang onto that, and I’ll get us out of here.”

Some of the heat that Steve could have routed down to his hand floods into his face instead.

Eddie stands still, almost frozen, for a few seconds, then says, “Right.” and starts pulling Steve along the way they came.

One right, two lefts, and one more right after that, and they break into the large, sunny center of the maze.

“Surprise!!” The entire rest of the party is there already, waiting for them with grins on their faces. “Happy Birthday Steve!"

He has to fight the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose as the group surge forward toward them.

“We got you a birthday doughnut!” Robin says, holding up a small paper plate with a sugar-crusted doughnut on it; a single candle is wedged into a glazed doughnut hole that’s been smushed into the center of the other. The flame gets gusted out by the wind as she passes it to him. “Whoops..”

“I brought a canteen full of hot cider!”

“There are presents too, ours was Mike’s idea.” El’s comment surprises him, and Mike is already looking away from him pointedly when he glances over at him.

“The maze thing was Eddie’s idea!”

“Hey, the whole thing was Eddie’s idea, Henderson. Give him some credit.” Eddie says, pointing accusingly at Dustin.

Steve turns to raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

“How was I supposed to know that mazes are the one thing you’re bad at?” he says in a mock affronted tone.

Everyone laughs, and are soon piping up to tell their own stories of trying to get through from the other side.

“Dustin got all claustrophobic like, two minutes in, and it actually made him get through it faster.” Mike teases, poking Dustin in the side.

“I wish it was corn like last year, I would’ve gotten through in half the time.” Lucas grouses. (“That’s what I said!” Steve says, gesturing heartily at Lucas.)

“Me, Max, and Erica were the first ones through, it was so easy.” Robin says, “I thought we’d have to eat all the doughnuts to survive.”

They hang out in the center for a while, and it isn’t until he goes to reach for another pumpkin spice doughnut, pulling his hand from Eddie’s to do so, that he realizes Eddie was still holding his hand, thumb running idly back and forth across his knuckles the whole time.

Maybe Steve’s not the only one with a crush after all…

“Alright, ready Eddie?” Steve says once all the baked goods are gone and the presents (a sweater from the boys, a mini leather bound journal from Robin, a hefty handful of new pins for his work vest from the girls, and a new walkman from Hopper and Joyce) are packed away back into Will’s backpack. He stands up and starts doing some useless stretches, his arms, his calves, jogging in place.

“For what?! Are we running a marathon next? ‘Cause I gotta tell you Stevie, I may do a lot of running, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“Nope, for my redemption arc. I’m leading us back out. And I won’t get lost this time.”

“Sure you won’t, Dingus.” Robin says, standing too and grabbing their trash. “See you boys on the other side.”

The party all tear out at the same time, splitting in half and timing their exits to go back through opposite sides, something about the winning half getting some sort of prize. Hopper and Joyce similarly split, a dinner date on the line for the winner.

“Alright Munson. Eyes closed, hand out.” Steve says once they reach the break in the wall too.

“Ooh, bossy. I like that.” he says, smirking at the eye roll Steve gives him as he squashes his eyelids shut.

Steve’s cold-ass fingers lace through his, not at all the platonic grip he’d had on Steve’s the last time.

They turn and weave and wind through the walls, and soon, as the drone of the crowds filter out, Eddie can tell Steve’s gotten them lost once again.

“There. Think this is good enough.” Steve murmurs, and before Eddie can ask what he means by that, Steve has pulled him sharply around, spinning him and pressing him back into the prickly wall of hay.

Eddie’s eyes fly open in surprise when his back hits the bales, but closes them again in the next second when Steve’s lips connect with his.

Funnily enough, they’re warmer than Eddie’s, and the press of them makes his stomach swoop almost violently.

Too soon, way too soon, Steve is pulling back. “You planned a surprise for me.” he breathes.

“Robin helped.” Eddie breathes dumbly in return.

Steve snorts, pushing closer to him, “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Uh huh.”

He leans closer, gaze hooded. “That okay?”

“More than.”

Steve tastes like cinnamon sugar, and suddenly it’s the best flavor in the world.

(“Okay, you can lead us back out now.” Steve says, after ten minutes spent warming his hands on the skin of Eddie’s torso.)

divider from @saradika-graphics!

[techactive]

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[pawborough]

January Check In

Hello, all!

Happy update day, catfolk! We apologize for the late update, but we wanted to share the Beta dates with you in this update. We took extra time to ensure the dates were accurate without risking something not being ready in time or causing burnout for our team. We’ve done quite a bit of internal assessment on the pros and cons of letting ~2,000+ people into the game. 

Our most pressing thought was how to reconcile needing to continue working on key features while getting valuable feedback and play data on all that we already have. There was a lot to consider, in reputation, timeline, and team morale. We did not want to give the wrong impression that we felt anywhere close to a done game, but we have a lot of high fidelity mechanics and playability to share which need high population testing regardless. We’ve finally settled on rolling our sleeves up and opening to testers. At the start, we’ll provide a comprehensive breakdown of everything we’re planning to add over the months of the test, and continue our monthly check-ins on our progress. We’re ready to grind, and we hope you are too! And in many ways, it will be much nicer to get the comprehensive mass testing whenever we have something new to roll out!

We hope you will all agree that this update was worth the wait, as we have exciting news to share with you today, along with our most exciting news yet! :)

Accessory Progress

We are proud to announce that we have 47 unique accessories, altogether with 564 color variations. 

We have just about reached the edge of our odyssey in the first production run of accessories. After 8 months of practice and training for our fledgling team, we’ve improved immensely at our pipeline. What has previously taken us months now takes a matter of weeks. We have one more backer accessory to develop, and any additions in the near future will be small, simplistic items in comparison to our full sets, but I’m very proud of the team for how far we’ve come, and the marvel of quality they produce in good time.

This month’s new progress includes:

Frog Friends

Illustration by Remmie, sponsored by Hag

Protogear Recolors

Recolors by Emma

New decor

We’ve also been busy with decors. 

Argh, matey! 

Macaws by Jersopod, cannon, barrel and newspaper stack by Giulia and Remmie

In addition, style compliant sketches of the original rose decor!

Sketches by Remmie

Archetypes

We’re here to introduce a very exciting mechanic that has been in the works since our initial overhaul. It’s one of my personal favorite concepts, and the primary motivation behind how we’ve structured the cat design system.

Introducing… cat archetypes!

Archetypes are a specific combination of traits which, when fulfilled, mark the cat’s profile with a badge and reward the user as an achievement fulfillment. (If the cat’s traits are changed, the badge will be removed. Cats may fulfill multiple Archetypes simultaneously.)

For example, this badge means the cat fulfills the Ruby archetype, a badge which requires the cat to have the color Ruby in all slots.

Examples of the Ruby archetype include:

To give examples of the specificity, other Archetypes include for example “Leopard,” which must have the following to comply:

A Yellow range Leopard overcoat

Light Greyscale or Light Yellow undercoat

Yellow or Greyscale Claws

None for the second accent

Here are some Leopards!

Owning these cats will give the user rewards, sometimes completely custom to the Archetype. 

What we hope to achieve with this system is a greater incentive to think creatively within the restrictions of our cat builder, and to reward our players for intentioned play in collecting, breeding, and designing a variety of cats. After all, it is the core of the game!

And with each new addition of colors or patterns, we’ll release an onslaught of new Archetypes! We plan to introduce a healthy amount of them, some easy to get, and some harder depending on genetic obtainability and the obtainment method.

This system is already up and running on our servers, and is in its infancy. We’ll get a lot of data from testing it out!

Originally, this system was on the backburner while we focused on bigger picture mechanics, but we’ve fast tracked it so we can bolster and better encourage casual play while the Guild system is still in its preliminary beta state. 

Pelt System

Perhaps the feature we are most excited to see in use and tested is the Pelt System, which we briefly introduced in the 2024 November Check In. There is a frankly insane amount of functionality behind this feature, which includes autonomous user decision and interaction every step of the way. 

First, we were able to implement dynamic layering. This means that Unclipped (top layer) pelts can actually sport layers which are placed behind the cat automatically. Valuable uses for this feature include the inside of sleeves, backs of hoods, and items which you would otherwise always want to go behind anything it’s stacked above.

Users can view their pelts already submitted, see their submission progress, choose to submit more to the pelt, choose to print their pelt themselves, choose to list pelts for buyers to print on demand, and view their pelts on any cat.

There is also a draft system which allows users to store information they aren’t ready to submit yet. 

Users can list pelts as a print-on-demand resource, and are able to control how many copies they will allow to be printed. 

All prints will require a tax which will be dependent on the coverage %, calculated based on the amount of pixels that cover the canvas. This means that small pelts, like a hat or a monocle, will take only a small tax!

AND we have a rudimentary tagging system going as we experiment with this feature! Big news! Once we iron out the kinks, we’ll be able to roll out user filtering and tagging of other content, such as cats or forum posts.

And drumroll please…

As teased at the beginning of this update, we are overjoyed to announce the Closed Beta dates!  Early access launches on February 3rd, with the regular Closed Beta starting on February 6th!

During the Closed Beta, you’ll have the chance to experience many new and polished gameplay features, exciting customization options, and the now refined economy! We encourage all testers to not only find any potential bugs and ui improvements, but also to provide feedback and suggestions on all of our game features and our economy!

All 253 Early Beta, 1940 Beta and Kickstarter codes have been generated, and we will begin sending them out shortly over the next day.

In the coming week, we’ll put out writings on our expectations early on and the features roadmap that we’re currently staring at. We can’t wait to see you all in Kotemara soon!

To summarize: We shared decors, Protogear recoloring, Frog Friends, pelt system showcase, archetypes and closed Beta dates.

What to expect next month: Further asset and development updates. Check-ins for how closed Beta will be going.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy Itchio Beta Update January 30th 2025

You can now get a much more polished version of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy on itch.io! Payment is optional, but greatly appreciated!

I’m proud of this update despite it not really being quite as extensive as I would’ve liked it to be considering the three months in between the last big public update and now, but as if my some act of God, nearly every single member of our team had some kind of personal life issue (moving, illness, etc.) across all of November and December, which really slowed down our progress on Eureka. We were back full steam ahead in January, and that allowed us to at least push one really big improvement through in time for this update: The mystery-writing guide.

It was important to me to release a big public update this month because January 2025 is when we stated on the Kickstarter that Eureka would be releasing. Well, underestimation and unexpected complications have meant that the game isn’t finished yet as of January 2025, but this big update that you can download and play is us making up for that at least partially, it shows our fans that even though we haven’t met our deadline, we haven’t been slacking off, and we do have a lot to show for it.

In addition to new art, new traits, and rules clarifications, the Eureka rulebook now sports an in-depth mystery writing guide. This comes just in time for those of you participating in our mystery module game jam. (Sign-ups are open now, submissions are open from March to April of 2025.)

In addition to a rulebook update, we have released two previously patron-exclusive Eureka mystery modules, “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game.” You can find them at this link here. Payment is optional but highly appreciated!

Patreon updates will continue monthly as we work steadily on the project.

Oh and one more thing before we get to the full changelog. As many of you know, we run a “TTRPG Book Club” where the club votes on games to play and then splits off into groups to play them (it’s very schedule-flexible), and discusses them as we go. Well, at the time of writing this, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is currently in the lead, which means we are very likely to be playing that next. Join the book club during the sign-up period in the next couple of weeks if you want to play Eureka and discuss it with the developers!

Here’s the full changelog!

Copy-editing Progress: Thoroughly copy-edited up to p. 302. Half-ass copy-edited up to p. 322.

We also released Eureka adventure modules “The Eye of Neptune” and “FORIVA: The Angel Game” into free beta on itch.io. Scroll up to find the link and a game jam!

WHOLE BOOK

CHAPTER 1 

Better clarified Unconsciousness. 

Better clarified the penalty negation of Grievous Wounds, gave guidelines for what aid may negate what Grievous Wounds, and made it so that these aids can stack to a penalty negation of up to 4.

Edited and simplified the travel time math when using Ticks.

Worsened penalty for using Medicine on oneself from -1 to -2.

Added some quick fix patches to the Assistance Roll section to make it more clear when Assistance Rolls should and should not be allowed. May end up completely rewriting some parts of this section in the near future to make it so that the divide is less based on Investigative vs Non-Investigative, but instead provide clearer stipulations. One potential issue is we really have to be careful not to write the rules so that every character assisting with every Investigative Roll is the optimal strategy, because that would make the game less fun. 

CHAPTER 2

New Traits: The Truth Comes Out, Poser

Buffed Believer Trait

Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Un-Nerfed I’m Okay, You’re Okay Trait

Made vampires and characters with the Arithmomaniac Trait immune to the “Click” Woo Roll effect

Added Crutches to Item List

More art has been added

Buffed Elementary! Trait

Buffed The Ascot Trait 

Buffed The Other Trait 

Buffed Poser Trait

Added Nobody’s Fool Trait 

Added That’s No Way to Feel Trait

Made some clarifications on Tiers of Fear

Made it so there is a flat PM penalty for investigators that are living out of their vehicles. 

Added RVs/campers/trailers to Homes

Lowered the PM of vans and SUVs

Moved Police from Optional to Mandatory on Tiers of Fear

CHAPTER 3

Added a Compromise Armor attack that is also a Movement and can only be done starting from a Grab

More art has been added

CHAPTER 7

Added “How to Write a Mystery” section, a big step-by-step guide on how to write your very own Eureka mystery module. 

Added “Starting an Adventure with Disaster” section

Added more guidelines for Eureka’s tone, setting, and lore.

CHAPTER 8 

Made it so fairies have to make a reflexes roll to be able to spirit away people with extremely brief contact. 

Better clarified some other things about Spiriting Away and “voluntary” skin-to-skin contact.

Added that a Potion of Healing can also cure non-chronic disease. 

Added that more potions than just the curse potions can be made curative by adding an extra Table 3 ingredient, and that curative potions can be bought with WP just like other potions. 

Clarified that gorgons can’t eat rocks.

Clarified that advanced curses can override each other.

Changed Monsters Eating Monsters section to Monsters vs Monsters and made it a more generalized section about all kinds of edge cases that might come up when monsters interact with each other. The section is kind of disorganized right now but will be cleaned up in copy-editing. 

Clarified that all wolfmen have a human form as one of their three forms.

Redid the hunting tables and added the tables for the Bar/Nightclub, Gay Bar/Nightclub, and Gaming/Hobby Store. They are not fully complete but they are at least functional at this time. 

Vampires now have a chance to start partially phasing through objects when they are at 0 Composure.

Changed the standard Stealth bonus vampires have at max Composure from +3 to +2.

Adjusted the mechanics for how to permanently “kill” a vampire. 

More art has been added

Buffed Learning by Example TFB Ability 

Clarified fairies taking voices 

Clarified the animal options for the Curse of Transformation

[levelup9166]

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[danikamariewrites]

Wrongfully Accused

Ruhn x reader

A/n: please enjoy me projecting my hate for the spring break crowds AND Ruhn going full alpha hole for reader lmao

Warnings: possessive Ruhn, comfort (and a rushed ending bc I didn’t know how to end it, i might edit it later)

The Aux had been unreasonably busy this evening. Flynn was starting to develop a headache as the umpteenth slam of the holding cell rang through the small stone space.

On his way back up to the bull pen, rubbing at his temples, Flynn decided he hated spring break. When did he get so old and bitter about fun? Probably when that male shifter jumped off the pier when Flynn told him not to. Arresting college kids in the Istros was a hassle.

His ass hadn’t even touched his desk chair when Dec dropped a new stack of case files and tablet. Flynn collapsed into the rolling chair, throwing his head back letting out a deep sigh. “Were we like this on spring break?”

Dec hummed, “But it was worse because we had Ruhn as immunity.” The lordling sat up shaking his head, starting to sort through the endless paperwork.

“I said I didn’t do anything! Arresting me solves nothing you ass!”

Dec and Flynn’s eyes go wide at the sound of your voice. They watch as you’re dragged through the chaos of headquarters. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to Cthona because no one else is listening sweetheart.” The Aux member said, shoving you into an empty interrogation room.

The two look at each other. Fear in their eyes for the Hel Ruhn would rain down upon the Aux upon finding out his sweet girl was arrested. “I’ll call Ruhn.” “I’ll find out what happened.” The pair said in unison, splitting up.

———

You could not believe the situation you’re in right now. Arrested and being held in an interrogation room! You were just on your way home from work and got tangled in the mess of drunk spring breakers. It’s not like you were participating in illegal activities.

Just a wrong time, wrong place situation.

You tired to tell the Aux member that arrested you what was going on but he clearly didn’t want to hear you out. Then you pulled out your last resort method. Name dropping your mate. Prince Ruhn Danaan. The male just laughed in your face.

Laying your head on the cool metal table you played with the chain of the cuffs that kept you tethered to the table. Letting out a bored sigh you settle in for a long, long wait. You saw Declan and Flynn by the desks. Thanks to them Ruhn would probably be here soon.

———

“No, no! Up that way! And make sure they don’t run off!” Ruhn yelled to his team. He shook his head taking in the mess around him. Spring fucking break.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket he saw the million and one messages from Dec on his lock screen. Missed calls, voicemails, and texts telling Ruhn to call him back, get back to HQ, and you being arrested. At the sight of your name and ‘arrested’ Ruhn didn’t even bother looking through the texts.

Jumping in the car he called Dec back. “What the hel is going on!” He growled out. Handing the phone over to Flynn he explained the situation. You got caught up in the mad dash for the pier across town and were taken in with the drunk college kids.

Ruhn gripped the steering wheel of the SUV so hard his tattooed fingers cracked. Stepping on the gas he sped off into traffic back toward Aux HQ.

———

Dec met him at the front door to try and quell some of Ruhn’s anger before getting upstairs. He knew he failed when the elevator ride was silent and Ruhn was trying to regulate his breathing.

His mate arrested! And in an interrogation room! Why didn’t either of his friends move you to his office? Questions kept racing through his mind as the elevator dinged. Stepping out he raced towards Flynn’s desk where he stood with the male that arrested you.

Before anyone could step in Ruhn grabbed the male by his collar, growling at him. “What the hel gives you the right to arrest my mate?” The male paled. “I-I thought she was lying,” Runh shoved the male backwards. “You’re suspended. Where is she?” He asked Flynn. “Room three,” he said quickly. Ruhn practically ran to interrogation room three, desperate to know if you were safe.

At the sound of the door banging against the wall you jump, sitting up straight. “Ruhn,” you breathed out, relieved that you would finally be out of these uncomfortable handcuffs. He gave you a pained look, moving to uncuff you. Ruhn rubs your sore wrists, “Sweet girl, are you ok?” He coos at you.

You let out a hum in response and nod. “Can we go home? I don’t want to be here.” Ruhn nods vigorously, his midnight blue hair swishing over his shoulder. “Of course we can princess, come on.” He takes your hand, pulling you into his side. Keeping you tucked under his arm and hidden until he buckles you in the car.

Once you’re home Ruhn carried you up to bed, giving you his shirt to sleep in. He gets the salve from the bathroom to rub on your wrists. You have red marks circling your skin that Ruhn wants to heal immediately. You spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking, with your mate promising that nothing like this would ever happen again.

tagging: @callmeblaire (love you babes💖)

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