#i need someone to bounce ideas off of but this thing is not possible to show anyone in the state its in!!

[pizzaqueen]

Broke out the old doc for The One Where Steve Sees Dead People (aka BBC Ghosts inspired) today! Think it’s time to just bite the bullet and finally start writing it

[watery-melon-baller]

i need a fucminh. like beta. for this animatic dear god. tragically none of my irl friends are as abnormal about toh as I am and this thing is a digital mess that is completely incomprehensible if I try to export it in it's current state. hnggg

[t4tsurge]

Okay, so in wanting to include Bramble in my fan kid au I realized that I had to completely overhaul what I had planned (that and the fact that I just. Didn't like the stories I had going on, but that's not too important). What I didn't realize was that now I have to shuffle around ages and figure out Stick's relationship with the Blazsurgamy polycule because 1) Bramble and Jade are the same age rn and 2) if I commit to Stickurge in the au I'm not sure I still wanna have Blazsurgamy be a thing. But then that leaves Jade out in the wind because they're a Surgeamy kid and there's no way for a Surgeamy kid to exist and be the same age as a Stickurge kid if Surge is only with one of them.

Idk, I'm really just thinking out loud here at this point.

[sapphia]

The thing I love about Hbomberguy’s latest video essay on plagiarism is it really gets to the root of why someone plagiarises, which in turn reassures the audience of the soundness of their own creative process and that of the creatives they love. He spends so much time praising and analysing the difference between derivative works (non-negative) and plagiarised works that it reassures and broadens the knowledge of other creatives and of the audiences consuming their works, which in turn helps assuage any unconscious reactionary feelings of “But this other creative I love does something slightly similar”.

As someone who writes, and as someone who went through the churn-em-out of the modern university degree system and all the plagiarism anxiety that comes with that, the topic of copying and mimicking other creatives is a heavy and ill-understood topic in so many spaces. The education system, at least in my country, went from encouraging rote-learning and copying by rewarding those who best memorised answers previously learned (e.g. exam answer schedules, memorising the wording of pre-practiced essays) to encouraging original thought in extensively-written about topics for essays. It’s very hard not to feel like you’re plagiarising when you’re one of 300 first year law students writing about a a topic from one very in-depth source that you’ve studied in class and three smaller ones, and Turnitin has put in your mind that the MOST important thing you can do for this essay is not to pass it, but to reword it well enough not to get caught up in this plagiarism detector. And I can recognise my behaviours in what Hbomberguy identifies - I remember minute-before-the-deadline essays where I was guilty of padding out my biography with sources from my sources, and can think of phrases or techniques of writing I’ve read in books that I sometimes worry might come through in my writing in a way that feels like stealing.

Plagiarism anxiety is real, and it’s fed by a lack of understanding around what plagiarism is and where it comes from. Hbomberguy is so right for complimenting a bunch of lame youtubers for the enthusiasm with which they openly bounce off of other people’s ideas. This collaborative method of creating where ideas are taken and passed on due to love of the craft can feel derivative eventually - but taken within a body of work where the creator is riffing or paying homage to and not merely regurgitating others success is at the heart of where any meaningful success and love for the medium lies. Creators need to be coming from a place of genuine enthusiasm and respect - it’s when they dont, when they’re looking down on others, that we see these behaviours emerging.

And that helps identify the urges within ourselves, and know more firmly whether what we’re doing is tribute or theft, including the many not just acceptable but positive ways of referencing back to sources and inspiration. It helps us tell when we ourselves are genuinely trying to pay homage and when we are treading the more murky waters of unfair attribution. So thanks Hbomberguy for dumbing down this topic in the most relatable but inaccessible-by-length way possible, as per usual.

[hanafubukki]

Summary: In which, a potion accident leads to Lilia having long hair again.

You coughed and waved your hand, trying to dispel the fumes in the area.

You knew allowing Grim and Lilia to partner up was a bad idea.

Whatever the two had poured into the cauldron caused an explosion of colorful gases, you could hear Silver call out to his father in panic.

“Khee hee~ It’s been a while since I’ve been like this.”

Malleus cleared the area with his magic, and you were faced with the nonchalant laughing fae.

Lilia was safe and sound with no visible wounds, the only difference was his hair. Whereas he had short hair before, now he had long hair, more than he ever had in his long life.

Oh no.

This was bad for you.

It turns out cutting said hair would not be possible. The potion ended up giving Lilia indestructible hair no magic or blade could cut.

Professor Crewel had simply stated the easiest option was to wait until the potion wore out.

Whenever that was.

In the meantime, you watched as Silver’s bird friends and Malleus’ magic worked together to braid said hair.

It reminded you of a certain movie back in your world, ironically enough.

Sebek poked at you, “Human! What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all!”

Sebek seemed to realize something to your mortification, “Oh! Is it because-”

You slammed your hands over his mouth, “Don’t finish that sentence!”

You and Silver watch as Lilia uses his hair to swing side to side across the room.

His laughter bounced off the walls.

Neither of you were surprised, but it was still an amusing sight nonetheless.

“Sebek told me about your…problem.”

You were going to kill him.

“It’s not a problem. It’s just a me thing.”

“Father would be happy if you told him.”

“He would be insufferable and you know it.”

Silver couldn’t deny that.

“Malleus!”

“Child of Man?”

You ran behind Malleus, taking cover.

“Oh come now~ I just want to talk Dear.”

“Whatever you want to ask, you can ask in front of Mal.”

Lilia pouted, his hair was still long and dragging about. You wondered how it didn’t get dirty.

But then again, you knew Silver who uses soap on his, so was this surprising?

“Lilia, why is YN hiding from you?”

“That’s what I want to know! They’ve been neglecting me~ I want my cuddles but they keep running away.”

Malleus seemed to think Lilia’s words over, and you used this opportunity to try and escape-

“Woah!”

Something wrapped around your wrists and pulled you across into Lilia’s arms.

You stared at the hair binding your hands together.

You’re kidding me-

“Bye Malleus~”

“Wait! No! Malleus-”

“It is better to express yourself rather than keep it in. It was you who taught me that, YN.”

Traitor.

Lilia burst into laughter.

Normally, you would find this cute

You know, if you weren’t tied to your chair.

Bound with layers of hair.

The irony of this didn’t escape you.

“So you ran away because you couldn’t handle how hot I was?”

“…maybe.”

You weren’t going to tell him that General Llilia, during your time in his dreams, still made you hot and bothered.

Nor would you tell him about those dreams with the General, the current Lilia in front of you, and you. Together.

Nope.

Never.

He would have a bigger head than he already does, knowing how weak you are for him.

It was bad enough that Sebek knew how much you simped for his mentor because you needed to confide in someone. Though you kept those thoughts away from him, for both your sakes.

“Khee~ Hee~ You’re so adorable, Beloved.”

Lilia leaned towards you.

“Would you say…I make you speechless?”

The dark crimson of his eyes made you fluster. A flash of an image of him in his groom outfit had you blushing more.

“That’s cheating!”

Lilia chuckled before sitting on your lap, his thighs framing yours and his arms circling your neck.

“I never said I played fair. Besides, I quite adore you like this.”

His fingers trailed up the back of your neck into your hair. His breath mingled with yours, lips barely touching.

“Bound and pretty under me, and all mine to do as I please.”

Your whimpered plea has him finally leaning in, lips pressing against yours.

The way this idea gripped me and never let go as Nessy ( @masquerade-of-misery) and I talked about how hot Lilia is with long hair.

Hope you enjoyed ☺️🫶💚

[theemporium]

SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN

could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What…the…fuck.”

Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.

“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.

“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”

“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?” 

“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you. 

“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”

“You said you wanted them.” 

“I said I liked the look of them.”

“Same thing.”

It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.

But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.

“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.

“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head. 

“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.” 

“Max—”

“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh. 

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper. 

“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”

You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”

“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.” 

His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.

.

[avis-writeshq]

06 — untouchable

summary: “come on, come on, say that we’ll be together/”i’m caught up in you.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn,  warnings: rated 16+ for two mentions of nakedness, short blood mention, brief mention of dead things, mostly canon compliant (s4 e23 ‘amplification’), wc: 4.3k a/n: thank you again to the lovely @astrophileous for beta-reading <3 good luck on your thesis babes MWAH SERIES MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

38 Hours Before the Phone Call – Monday, 8:42AM, BAU Office

Spencer arrives at the office with a stupidly giddy smile on his face. His cheeks are flushed as he grips a hot takeaway cup of coffee in his hands. He taps the cup idly with his fingers, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he steps out of the elevator unable to shake the smile off his face. It’s ridiculous and insane and borderline delusional but he knows it’s far from that. After all, he has a perfectly good reason as to why he is in such high spirits and that reason is you. After years of pining and psyching himself up (only to psych himself out) he managed to actually ask you out on a date. And, he reminds himself with a silly smile, he actually kissed you. And it wasn’t one of those platonic kisses, no, this was an actual kiss to the lips and he couldn’t be happier. 

He thinks back to the previous night, visualising the way your cheeks grew warm and the way your lips felt against his. His own cheeks flush at the thoughts and he remembers committing that version of you to memory. How on earth are you so beautiful? Even while sleep deprived with dark bags under your eyes or unruly hair, he still thinks you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. 

“Pretty boy,” Derek comments in a teasing sing-songy voice as Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. “Ooh, I know that look.”

Spencer chokes a little, wiping his mouth with a tissue in his bag. “What look?”

“Someone got lucky last night,” Derek responds with a grin. “It must be the hair. I heard that long hair gets all the ladies nowadays.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Spencer is quick to deny, walking through the big glass doors of the office. 

“Who got lucky last night?” Emily asks, poking her head out of her little stall. Her eyes flit to Spencer and she grins. “Oh… I see how it is.”

“Nothing happened last night,” Spencer says adamantly, swiping a hand over his face. “It isn’t like that. Whatever we have is good. It doesn’t need to be–” He coughs quietly as blood rushes to his ears– “to be sexual. I like her. More than physically.”

Emily coos at his confession, twisting around her desk to ruffle his hair. “You’re such a gentleman, Reid.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he says through a laugh, swatting Emily’s hands away. “Being a gentleman. Some women prefer it over the whole macho act.”

“Hey, I am plenty gentleman,” Derek says swiftly, holding a finger out. “And chicks dig the macho thing.”

*** 

14 Hours Before the Phone Call – Tuesday, 7:09AM, BAU Office

It was supposed to be a normal morning. It was supposed to be an average Tuesday with your average, run-of-the-mill serial killer with daddy issues but instead, JJ called the entire team in the early hours of the morning, saying to get to the BAU as quickly as possible. 

“Case must be local. JJ said not to bring a go-bag,” Spencer says as they enter the office. 

In moments they were met with a complete arsenal of military personnel, bustling around their desks and storming throughout the office. Others were answering and sending phone calls, demanding for processes to be sped up as Hotch speaks to a group of people in his own personal office, Rossi beside him.

“What’s the army doing here?” Derek asks, his brows furrowed.

“What the hell is going on?” Emily demands, eyeing the uniformed professionals as they splay casefiles across their desks. 

They all enter the conference room where JJ was waiting for them, along with a neatly dressed Asian woman with her hair tied up in a ponytail and out of her face. 

“Guys, this is Dr Linda Kimura, Chief of Special Pathogens at the CDC,” JJ introduces, filling up styrofoam cups with water and placing them around the round table. 

“Hello. I’m sorry to meet under these circumstances,” she says as she places pills on a shiny metal tray. 

Spencer frowns at that. “What circumstances?”

Hotch enters the room instantly, gripping a case file in his iron fist. “We need to get started.”

“Last night, twenty-five people checked into emergency rooms in and around Annapolis. They were all at the same park after 2PM yesterday. Within 10 hours, the first victim died. It’s now just past 7AM the next day, we have twelve people dead,” JJ explains as the rest of team look through the manilla files. 

“Lung failure and black lesions,” Derek murmurs thoughtfully. “Anthrax?”

Spencer flicks through the papers, scanning the tox screen. “Anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.”

“This strain does,” Kimura says, an edge of fear in her tone.

“What are we doing about potential mass targets– airports, malls, trains?” Emily asks, turning to Hotch who shakes his head. 

“There’s a media blackout.”

“We’re not telling the public?”

Derek looks over at Emily. “We’d have a mass exodus.”

“The psychology of group panic would cause more deaths than this last attack,” Rossi explains.

“Yeah, and if it does get out, whoever did this might go underground or destroy their samples,” Spencer says as he sifts through the papers. 

“Or if they wanted attention and didn’t get it, they might attack again. Doesn’t the public have the right know that?” 

“If there is another attack, there’s no way we’ll be able to keep it quiet,” Hotch says urgently. “Our best chance of protecting the public is by building a profile as quickly as we can.”

Spencer wets his bottom lip nervously, his thoughts drifting to you. You work indoors all day. You’ll be fine, you have to be. “What do we know about this strain?”

“The spores are weaponized,” Kimura explains, “reduced to a respiral ideal that attacks deep in the lungs. Odourless and invisible.”

Rossi nods, almost as if he wasn’t surprised at all upon hearing the news. “A sophisticated strain. Only a scientist would know how to do that.”

“These lesions are doubling in size in a matter of hours,” Derek points out, gesturing to the less than positive crime photos in their files. 

“It’s not the lesions I’m worried about,” Kimura begins, taking an ultrasound scan of a patient’s lungs and presenting it to the team. “Its the lungs. We don’t know how to com2bat the toxins once they’re inside. And the reality is, we may lose them all.”

“The remaining survivors have been moved to a special wing at Walter Reed Hospital. Our offices will become a small command centre,” JJ tells them.

“We’ll be working with military scientists from Fort Detrick,” Hotch adds on.

“General Whitworth is coming here?” Rossi asks.

Hotch nods in the affirmative. “He’s in charge of sit containment and spore analysis. Determining what strain this is will help inform who’s responsible.”

“My team is in charge of treating all victims,” Kimura goes on to tell the team, looking at each person.

“Reid, go with Dr. Kimura to the hospital, interview the victims,” Hotch says, dishing out responsibilities. “Morgan and Prentiss, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene. There’s Cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

Linda hands a small plastic container, each one having two round tablets resting inside. “We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s something.”

Emily lets out a nervous breath as she toys with the rim of the container. “This… is really happening?

“We knew this could happen. We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it,” Hotch says as reassuringly as possible before knocking his head back and taking the two Cipro tablets. 

“Cent’anni,” Rossi toasts, holding the little container out. “May you live one hundred years.”

*** 

Everyone rushes about, gathering files and resources before the head off to complete their allocated assignments. Regardless of how much is at stake in this certain situation, Spencer feels his heart spike with anxiety. It’s against protocol, sure, but shouldn’t he call you? Tell you to take a sick day and stay at home, or to just stay indoors the entire time you’re at work. Maybe if he’s lucky he could get you into witness protection. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hotch says slowly, seemingly appearing out of thin air behind him. 

Spencer freezes, his hands pausing as they rummage through his bag in search of his cell. “I’m not.”

“You’re not thinking?” Hotch asks, raising an eyebrow. “I know what you want to do.”

“I can’t just– I can’t just keep her in the dark, Hotch,” Spencer insists, continuing to feel for his cell phone. “She could get infected and–” His mouth runs dry at the idea and he swallows thickly. “If I can protect her, then why shouldn’t I?

Aaron sighs, his forehead wrinkling as his eyebrows knit together. “I know you care about her and I know you’re worried, but she isn’t on this team anymore. If we all called home and used this information to give them the advantage that other people don’t have… is that really the right thing to do?”

“Don’t give me a moral dilemma, Hotch. This isn’t a hypothetical,” Spencer counters, finally finding the little device buried at the bottom of his satchel. “When I– when the incident with Tobias Hankel happened, she never gave up on me. She went out on a limb for me. I’m returning the favour.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment before finally, “What about the guilt?”

Spencer balks. “What?”

“If she is saved because of the information you gave her… can you imagine the guilt she would feel? She’s a selfless person, Spencer, and knowing her… well, you can guess what she would do,” Aaron says, glancing back to his office where Rossi is waving him over. “I’m sure you’ll make the right decision. Kimura is waiting for you.”

Hotch is gone before Spencer could say anything. He huffs quietly, guilty after hearing Hotch’s words. Even though he doesn’t want to admit it, he has to accept that his boss is right. The best way to keep you safe is by finding this UnSub before he could hurt any more people. He rubs at his eyes in frustration, stalking out of the BAU offices. Hopefully you’ll forgive him.

*** 

“Dr. Lawrence Nichols? Yeah, I read about him. He was highly respected doctor who studied anthrax prior to the attacks in 2001,” Spencer says as he gets into the passenger seat of Derek’s SUV. He rolls up the sleeves of his dark purple shirt, brushing some sweat from his forehead. “They think that he’s behind it?”

“There was a video of him at a conference with the with the National Defense Committee. He was paranoid after the Amerithrax attacks in 2001, proposing some crazy high budget to ‘protect the people of America’,” Derek explains. “He matches the profile exactly. Prentiss and Rossi are heading to his work. Apparently he got demoted into working with influenza.”

Spencer grimaces as he stares at the overgrowing rose bushes at the front of Dr. Nichols’s house, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Do people not hire gardeners anymore? He squeezes past a few bushes to follow Derek closer to the house, hissing when his hand gets caught on one of the thorns. He shakes his hand out, a scratch already blooming on the back of his hand with small droplets ot blood already emerging. 

He continues to walk into the house as Derek’s phone rings, entering the house through a glass sliding door. The whirring of the fan above him grabs his attention and he frowns. The fan is on but the door is open… someone must have left in a hurry. He takes another step forward, jolting when he hears the sound of glass being crushed under his feet. Shit.

“Reid?” Derek yells, and Spencer jumps. 

“Morgan, get– get back!” Spencer yells, slamming the sliding door shut so hard that the glass shakes. “Get back! Get out of here!”

Derek frowns, tugging at the handle. ‘What are you doing? What’s wrong?”

“No, don’t!”

“What’s wrong?” Derek asks again, tugging once more at the handle; Spencer is a lot stronger than he expected.

“What’s wrong?”

Spencer pushes his hair out of his face in frustration as he locks the door, turning back to his friend. “I’m sorry.”

It is in that moment that Derek’s eyes turn to the ground, his eyes widening in disbelief as he sees the white powder in the room leaking from a broken test tube with a bright yellow symbol for ‘biological hazard’. 

It feels like hours before Hotch and the military arrive at the house, along with an ambulance and a hazmat team. The stench of Dr. Nichols’s dead body lingers in the air even though the air-con is blasting and the air is circulating through the room. He doesn’t even want to think about the dead animals and test subjects in the cages, his stomach churning at the mere thought. From what he could tell, the doctor was dead three days ago, meaning that he couldn’t have been the one to infect those people at the park. His head is pounding and his throat itches and all of a sudden he can’t breathe. He tells himself to relax but how can he when he very well could die in here? He knows the statistics; only 55% of those who receive aggressive treatment survive. He doesn’t like those odds. 

“Hotch, I really messed up this time,” he says hoarsely into the phone, wiping the sweat off his upper lip.

“Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital,” Hotch says firmly, and Spencer watches as he puts the call on speaker. 

“What– no, I’m staying right here,” Spencer insists, frowning. 

Derek interrupts swiftly, “No, you’re not, Reid.”

“I’m already exposed,” Spencer says, his voice straining as he turns back into Dr. Nichols’s makeshift lab. “It’s not gonna do me any good to stop working the case.”

General Whitworth grimaces in response. “He’s already infected. Now, if Nichols created the strain, he may have also created the cure.”

“My best chance is to stay here, see if there’s a cure, and try to figure out who killed Dr. Nichols,” Spencer insists as he searches through the lab for what seems like the millionth time. 

Test tubes, files, and text books litter the lab, a flurry of papers splayed across the floor. The sight of them remind him of the first time he met you when you had ran into him on his first official day at the BAU. You were a swirling rainstorm as you practically slammed your head against his chest, the paperwork you were carrying flying into the air as you toppled over like a house of cards. In that moment, Spencer could have sworn that you were untouchable. You were like a fire, burning brighter than the sun, and he would be damned if he ever made that flame flicker away. 

“Come on, Hotch, say something to him,” Derek tries again, worry laced in his tone.

Aaron hesitates as he considers his options before sighing. “He’s right. His best chase is inside. We’re gonna get a suit and mask in to you right away.”

“Don’t bother, it’s not going to do me any good. I’m already infected.” Spencer knows that if you were still part of the team that you would be scolding him about being so stubborn. Hell, you’re not even on the team anymore and you still scold him about it. 

As he continues to try and search for more clues and filtering the information he finds through to Derek, his thoughts continuously drift back to you. You and your blissfully unaware state. He thinks of the way you smile and the way you felt in his arms that day. He is sure that the universe is playing tricks with him because the one moment he finally has you, you’re ripped away from him. His mind wanders back to the way your eyes lit up and the way your lips felt against his and in that moment he’s begging. He’s begging whatever higher power there is that he is part of the 55% of people who survive an anthrax attack after treatment. 

“Hey, Reid,” Penelope’s voice echoes through the phone, sad and mopey. It’s unlike her, incredibly uncharacteristic and Spencer chokes out a quiet laugh. 

“Reid? Wow, no, uh… no witty Garcia greeting for me?” He asks, running his fingers through his damp sweaty hair. It’s disgusting and gross and he hates it because he knows that it’s a symptom of the disease. 

Penelope chuckles weakly from the other side of the line. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He doesn’t know how to respond to that so instead he asks, “Garcia, do you think you can do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I… I know I can’t call… I know I can’t call (Y/N) or my mother without, uh–” he coughs, wiping his face with the palm of his hand and feeling his clammy skin– “without alerting everyone.”

“What do you need?”

“I– uh– I need you to record a message. Two messages. One for my mother and the other for… for (Y/N). In case anything happens to me.” His voice cracks as he speaks, his hand trembling because oh God, this really could be the end. After everything he went through going to those Narcotics Anonymous meetings, getting clean, going to therapy… this is how it ends?

“Oh, nothing is gonna happen to you,” Garcia says, wholeheartedly believing it. “You’re gonna brilliantly find ut who did this and we’re gonna treat this strain.”

Spencer lets out a nervous breath. “I hope you’re right. But if you’re not, I just… I really want to make sure that they hear my voice. Both of them.”

“Okay. Just– just give me a second,” Penelope mumbles, clicking away on her keyboard. 

“Are you ready?”

“Ready.”

“This– um, it’s for my mum first…” He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice even. “Hi, mum. This is Spencer. I just– I just really want you to know that I love you, and– and I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son.”

Penelope presses pause on that message, murmuring, “Okay. And– and for (Y/N)?”

“Is it on?” He asks quietly, coughing as the itchiness in his throat refuses to relent. “Hey, angel, it’s me, Spenc– Walter. It’s your Walter.” His voice catches in his throat as he speaks, tears slipping past his eyes as he tries to choke out the words. “If you’re getting this then something happened and I just wanted you to know that– that– that I love you. I didn’t get the chance to tell you that before but I do. I love you and I wish it didn’t turn out like this but I am– I am so glad that we had that moment.”

“Reid?”

Dr. Kimura enters the room through the sliding door, clad in a bright red hazmat suit. “Prep the victim for transfer.”

“I gotta go,” Spencer says quickly, hanging up the call and pocketing his phone. 

“Dr. Reid,” Kimura says, walking over to him.

“You look nice,” he says drily, staring at the uniform. It looks very similar to an astronaut costume and if he were in any other situation, he would have started to laugh.

Kimura chuckles quietly. “I haven’t been in this outfit for a while.”

“How… how are the patients doing?” Spencer manages to ask, and suddenly it feels as if all the air is kicked out of his lungs. His head throbs with each attempt he makes to take in a breath and sweat pools at the top of his lip. 

“Let’s worry about you.”

“I actually… I feel fine,” Spencer lies through gritted teeth, the muscles in his shoulders aching with each heave of his chest. 

Kimura nods, her concern palpable. “Okay, if you feel any pain, I can give you something.”

In an instant, the fear of losing all the progress he has made in the past year pools to his stomach and he shakes his head adamantly, ignoring the way the room spins. “No, I’d rather not take any pain medication.”

“We can at least make you feel more comfortable.”

“I am comfortable and I don’t want to take any narcotics!” Spencer says firmly, and he can see the realisation dawn in Kimura’s eyes. 

“Okay… tell me how I can help.”

“I think the cure for this strain is in here somewhere,” he says through heavy breaths, sucking in a mouthful of air with every sentence. 

It isn’t long before the hazmat team has Spencer in a decontamination tent, the smell of sterile plastic filling his nose. They’re hosing him down behind a clear plastic curtain, Derek standing in front of him. The feeling of the cold water splashing against his back is uncomfortable, and Spencer grimaces at the feeling of his clothes sticking to his skin. It’s gross and his work shirt is growing heavy from the waterweight, sagging down on his shoulders. The anthrax isn’t helping either. It’s too hot and too cold all at once, it’s too hard to breathe and it’s like his head weighs a million pounds. 

“Go help Hotch,” Spencer croaks out to Derek, shivering as they continue to spray water on his back and front.

“Hotch has plenty of people helping him,” Derek dismisses. 

Spencer shakes his head and regrets it immediately, his head starting to spin. “He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.”

“I’m about to get naked so that they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?” Spencer deadpans.

Derek grimaces before finally saying, “What if (Y/N) were here? Would you tell her to go?”

“(Y/N)  wouldn’t mind seeing me naked.”

Derek’s eyebrows shoot upwards at Spencer’s less than innocent words, immediately turning away. “We are having a conversation about this later. Take good care of him, please.”

The ambulance is stuffy and cramped, and the scrubs that he has to wear is itchy and uncomfortable. They’re menial thoughts that don’t even matter considering the severity of the situation, and Spencer wheezes out of a cough; a reminder that he might not even live to see the next day. The nasal cannula that is attached to Spencer’s nose isn’t doing much to assist him to breathe, and he coughs again. 

“How are you feeling, Dr. Reid?” Kimura asks as she checks his vitals. 

“My throats a little dry, but other than that I feel– I flee– feel…” He blanks. His mind knows the words but they get stuck on his tongue and he panics. It can’t end like this. He refuses for it to end like this. “Flee– fleel– I–”

Kimura nods in understanding, a sense of urgency behind her words. “Okay. Okay, you’re doing okay. Driver, faster!”

“Call–” Spencer tries again, the words spinning in his head. “Pelen– Penel… low… len…”

Call Penelope, he tries to say, the lights in the ambulance growing brighter and brighter. She needs to give (Y/N) the message, she needs to… she needs to…

All he sees is white.

*** 

The first thing Spencer notices when he regains consciousness is the smell of lavender and oranges overpowering the sterile scent of antibacterial wipes. It’s comforting and familiar and he wracks his brain as he tries to remember where he remembers it from. He doesn’t remember much; only getting into the ambulance and Kimura asking him questions. He shuffles around in his hospital bed, stretching his aching muscles. He forces his eyes open little by little, and he quints at the woman at the end of his hospital bed. 

“(Y/N)?”

“You ass,” you respond tearfully, your voice cracking as you swat him lightly on the arm. “You refused treatment?”

He smiles a little, sitting up on the bed. “Hey, angel.”

“Don’t ‘hey angel’ me,” you sniffle, taking hold of his hand and stroking his palm with your thumb. “You scared me.”

Spencer hums softly in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand back. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“Dr. Kimura said that you should be free to go in a couple of days but you need rest afterwards,” you tell him, brushing a strand of his hair behind his ear. “You owe me a date.”

“I do,” he murmurs, his cheeks flushed and a giddy smile on his face despite where he is. He looks at you, you and his oversized CalTech hoodie. The hoodie in itself is ugly; a muted grey with a half-assed logo slapped to the front and Spencer has hated it ever since he bought it with what little funds he had back in college. Yet, for some reason, he doesn’t hate it so much when you wear it. “You look beautiful.”

You roll your pretty eyes at him, moving your chair closer to him. “Liar.”

“Never,” he whispers. “Never to you.”

You smile at him again, bringing your lips to the back of his hand. “You told me you loved me. Is that true, too?”

“Love,” he corrects you quietly, “and I wouldn’t lie to you about that.”

Heat rushes up your neck at his words and you beam at him, kissing his cheeks. “I love you.”

He reaches a hand out to hold the back of your neck, his thumb stroking the line from your ear to your jaw. “I love you,” he says into the space between you, before kissing you again. 

← previous part || next part →

full masterlist

reblogs are always appreciated !!

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 5

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

Author’s note: We’re setting things up, baby!! I’m not sure about this part tbh. It’s been a bit since I updated, so hopefully the length of this will make up for it!! 💕

Warnings: slight drinking, mentions of sex, I almost had someone order a sweet tea before I remembered that doesn’t exist much outside the south

(Part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (masterlist)

It was quite impressive, really, how Rhysand took half an hour to eat his bowl of cereal just to piss off his brother. Azriel was pacing, wanting to see you as soon as possible. Truthfully he had been waiting since you left their apartment that morning, inviting him and Rhys to come out with you and Feyre.

Azriel thinks he deserves an award for the patience he’s harboring over Rhys’s movements.

They eventually walk into your apartment, much to Rhys’s delight, to find you and Cassian bickering in your kitchen over his inability to turn the tv off at night.

“Cassian, please, stop leaving the tv on at night. I woke up at 3 in the morning and was blinded by the idle Netflix screen.”

“I’ll try, but it’s a big ask. You want me to find the remote when I’m very sleepy and just shut it off?”

“Uh, yeah that’s what I said,” you respond, leaning against the counter, waving to Rhys and Az. Rhys elects not to comment at the way you perk up at the sight of his brother. “Somehow I don’t think it’ll be the end of the world.”

Cassian mumbles out, “I’ll try,” before acknowledging his brothers. Him and Rhys start talking about something but your phone vibrates, distracting you from their conversation.

Feyre: I’m here

“Awesome, Fey’s here - let’s go.”

The four of you head down, taking the elevator down. Cassian thought about pushing all the buttons, but he knew it was a surefire way to find an axe imbedded in the side of his head within the hour.

You all head down to the parking lot, spotting Feyre leaning against her car. The second you point it out Cassian yells, “shotgun!”

You retort back, “how old are you again?”

Cassian responds, having reached the passenger door, “the laws of shotgun are anti-discriminatory, they’re not bound by age.”

You roll your eyes at him, as Azriel holds the door open for you to get into the back. You sit in the middle seat, squished between Azriel and Rhys. And if you lean further into Azriel, his thighs pressed against yours, that’s between you and Feyre’s silver prius.

The five of you walk in and find the place nearly empty. After signing consent forms and paying, you notice that there’s a bar. You and Cassian immediately get drinks, a beer and a seagram’s, and head over to the lane the owner told you to go to.

“Maybe having alcohol and an axe to throw isn’t a great idea,” you mutter, taking a sip anyway.

Cassian saunters up first, putting his beer down before grabbing the axe.

“I’m sure I’ll be a natural at this,” he tells you all, before swinging the axe back and throwing it, all of you watching as it bounces off of the target.

You snicker, but it’s Rhys who says what you’re all thinking. “Mmm, a natural. I see it.”

You all take turns in the two lanes provided, throwing a few times until eventually you all get the hang of it.

Rhys and Azriel fare much better than Cassian with their initial throws, but you and Feyre were struggling for a while, until eventually you guys began keeping score as you went. Feyre began shooting better, telling everyone that she just “needed a few practice swings in”.

In between your turns, you kept finding yourself next to Azriel, joking and poking fun at everyone else’s shooting. You were too busy with Azriel to notice Feyre and Rhys swapping phone numbers as Cassian was throwing.

Cassian turned from the lane, noticing both of his brothers having paired off with girls. He’s slightly annoyed at the fact that no one congratulated him on his bullseye. He places the ax back where it belongs and clamps down on Azriel’s shoulder as he sits next to him.

“Your turn,” Cassian grins. Azriel wants to object, peeferring to stay in your company, but decides against it, walking over to throw. You turn to watch him, but Cassian starts speaking.

“So you have the hots for my brother,” he says, voice low, causing you to choke on your drink. You turn to him, spluttering as he looks at you expectantly.

“Uh, Rhys is very nice but I don’t-“

Cassian’s raised hand interrupts you. “Not that one, sweets.”

You debate whether or not you should deny it, but Cassian looks at you and you sigh. You start ripping the label off your drink and nod your head just slightly.

Cassian grabs his beer and stands up. He looks at you over his shoulder before saying, “I think it’s mutual.”

You don’t have time to mull over his words. Your phone buzzes, and pulling it out, you see Mor’s contact lighting your screen. You answer, putting the phone to your ear. Az sits back down next to you, watching you answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi sweetie,” Mor’s smooth voice crackles over the phone. “Do you wanna get dinner?”

Az looks over at you, the sound of Mor’s voice familiar to him.

“Uh I’m out with Feyre, Cassian, Rhysand, and Azriel.”

Mor huffs, “without me? You go out with my favorite guys and don’t invite me?”

You scratch the back of your head at her admonishment, “uh well it was kinda spur of the moment.”

Az takes a sip of his water as he watches you on the phone, curious about your friendship with Mor. He knew Mor somewhat well, actually. Rhysand brought her around fairly often, and Cassian brought her around somewhat regularly. He can’t believe the blonde would hide you away from them for so long and why she especially wouldn’t try to set the two of you up at some point.

Mor was, above all, convinced she was a matchmaker. No one escaped her clutches of trying to pair people up.

“Okay, whatever. I’ll forgive you if all of you come out to dinner with me tonight.”

You laugh, “ah a guilt trip. Where should we meet you? And when?”

Mor thinks for a minute, “meet me at that Mexican restaurant out on Main street. In an hour?”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. “Okay, but I can’t guarantee everyone will come. I haven’t asked.”

You know she’s rolling her eyes as she responds, “just tell them I said pretty please - they’ll come. And tell them that I’ll pay.”

Your eyebrows raise, “are you sure? I live with Cassian - I’ve seen that man eat a rotisserie chicken as a snack.”

“Well I won’t be paying, I’ll put it on my lovely father’s credit card. I’ll consider it payment for that awful dinner a few weeks ago.”

“Well, let me ask them and I’ll let you know.”

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye, love youuuuu,” Mor’s drawn out affections end as you hang up, coming back to your surroundings. Feyre has an axe in her hand, and you hear Rhys cheer as she hits a few feet from the bullseye.

“Do you guys want to get dinner with Mor? She told me she won’t forgive me if you guys don’t come.”

Azriel and Rhys share a look, but you continue. “She did say to tell you all “pretty pleasaaase.” You bat your eyelashes in a fairly spot on impression of Mor, “and that she’s paying.”

Cassian comes up next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Lead with the free food next time, sweetheart.”

Leaving axe throwing behind a bit later, Cassian is grumbling about how Azriel outscored everyone substantially. Rhys leads the group outside and grins at Cassian declaring, “shotgun.”

Cassian huffs but trudges to the back with you and Azriel. The backseat is even more cramped, seeing as Cassian’s thighs could take up a seat of their own. You’re practically having to sit on both of them, and Azriel is pressed against the door to give you as much space as possible.

Between no one paying attention to him during your group outing and the fact that he lost, Cassian was overcome with the need to stir something up, so he turns to you and asks, “the world is ending and you have to sleep with one of us to save the world, who do you pick?”

You turn to Cassian, shock on your face. Azriel perks up in his seat a bit, wanting to hear what you’ll say. Feyre and Rhys even stop their conversation up front to hear.

“What kind of apocalyptic event is this, Cass?”

“A horny one?” He asks, not really sure himself.

You all laugh, “okay so I sleep with one of you and the world is saved?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’d pick Feyre. She’d be a gentle lover,” you say, looking towards your friend as she drove. Feyre gives you a wink through the rearview mirror, and Cassian groans.

“Nope, it can’t be Feyre.”

“Well you didn’t say that earlier,” you point out.

“Well I’m saying it now.”

“Why don’t you just tell me the parameters of who I can have sex with to save the world,” you say, a bit exasperated at this imaginary scenario.

“Me, Rhys, and Az.”

“Cassian,” you say, matter of factly, and Azriel feels his heart fall through his chest. He tries to even his breathing so you don’t notice him shattering next to you, but your voice picks up again as Cassian is cheering.

“I wouldn’t have sex with you, even in a world ending event.” You pat his shoulder. “I’d let all of us die before doing that.”

Rhys throws his head back laughing and Cassian crosses his arms, leaning back in the seat, huffing. Azriel smirks slightly, and he notices that you don’t actually answer the question Cassian posed. He also notices your eyes nervously glancing in his direction every few seconds.

The restaurant comes into view as Cassian keeps grumbling, his unanswered question long forgotten. The five of you pile out of the car, and Azriel offers his hand to you to help you get out. His hand is a little cold in yours, but you hold it a little longer than necessary, soaking in the contact.

You all walk up to the front to find Mor aggressively waving her hands at you all, trying to make sure you see her. You chuckle, and Cassian starts waving back just as dramatically.

“It’ll be about 20 minutes,” she tells you all, texting someone. You all hear the ding of Cassian’s phone right as she’s done talking, but none of you point it out.

Mor and Cassian huddle together talking, leaving the four of you to mingle. The presence of both of them and Feyre makes everyone pause, uncertain of what to say. You had never really realized how much easier talking was with Cassian nearby.

Feyre asks, “so what do you guys major in?”

“Computer science,” Azriel says.

“I’m a double major with business and engineering.”

Rhys’s major does not shock you at all. The well-tailored clothing he wears every day do nothing to combat the business major stereotype. The engineering part does, however, surprise you.

Feyre asks him about his classes, and you perk up when he mentions the organic chemistry class you’re a TA for. The two of them keep talking, bur you turn your attention to Azriel.

“Why computer science?” You ask Az, curious. It suits him, you think. It’s easy to see him behind a computer, developing websites.

“I like software development and coding.”

You groan in disgust, “I don’t know how you like coding. I have to do it for a research project and I hate it. It doesn’t make any sense to me.”

“What about it doesn’t make sense?”

“It’s just like a new language no one taught me.”

“I could help you,” he says, hesitating to be too forward, “if you- if you want, of course.”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

The two of you are so enraptured in your conversation you don’t notice the looks Rhys and Feyre are sharing at how obvious the two of you are.

The looks between you and Azriel, and Feyre and Rhys, are interrupted by Mor’s chiming. “It’s ready!”

The six of you walk towards a booth in the back, you, Azriel, and Feyre on one side, Cassian, Mor, and Rhys on the other. The waitress provides you all menus, and before she can walk away Cassian asks for “enough queso to make a grown man cry”.

You’re looking at the menu when Azriel nudges you with his elbow. “You never said what your major was.”

“Oh, uh I’m a biology major.”

“Biology?” He asks, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I really like evolution and ecology. I like the diversity of life.”

“And what is your project that requires coding?”

“Oh- it’s a population survey. For the past two years I’ve been reviewing trail cam footage around the campus for what kinds of animals live on campus.”

His eyebrows raise, “you started research as a sophomore?”

“Yeah, I set up the trail cameras in August that year. They’re in the more woodsy parts of campus or areas where there’s freshwater like the fountains.”

“So you have to view thousands of hours of camera footage?” He sounded genuinely interested in your project, a response you hardly received.

You laugh, “no, it’s motion activated. But it’s still a lot to comb through.”

“If you ever want any company while you do it, I could bring some of my coding assignments and we could just work together.”

You’re about to tell him you’d love to, when the waitress comes by, taking everyone’s drink orders and dropping off chips, salsa, and queso. Cassian, who had been grumbling about how hungry he was, gives his drink order through a mouthful of chips.

After you ask her for a water and a soda, you tell Az, “I’d love that.”

Cassian pulls you into a conversation between himself and Mor, but you do catch a glimpse of the little smile Azriel gives you as you tell Cassian about the time Mor streaked across the football field during a game in high school.

The dinner is fun, made even moreso by Mor picking up the check. You all wish a Mor good night as you head back to Feyre’s car. Once the doors to the restaurant open, Rhys and Cassian yell out, “shotgun,” at the same time, and both begin sprinting to Feyre’s car, pushing each other as they run.

The three of them trudge ahead of you and Azriel, as you two walk in step next to each other. He pulls out his phone, his screen lighting up his face in the night. He turns his phone to you, an empty contact page facing you.

“I-uh just realized I don’t have your number,” he swallows hard, looking down at his phone, watching as your fingers gently grab his phone and begin typing.

He watches you click ‘send message’, watching you type something out before handing it back to him. He chuckles as he reads the message you sent yourself.

Az: oh beautiful, stunning, wonderful woman, thank you for blessing me with your phone number

His phone vibrates in his hand as your response comes through.

You: oh, Az. Flattery will get you very far.

[casuallyawkardd]

Hi dear, how are you?, could you write a imagine where reader offered to be a nanny for mayday and the newest member of the HQ, jess's son, and when Miguel arrives home, he can't take his eyes off reader as she puts the children to bed slept. And I couldn't get out of Miguelito's mind when he wants to put a baby in you, please.

Hello! I am well! Just got some good news in my personal life so even better than usual 🥰 Anywho I think this idea is so cute so let's dive in

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes but mostly PG, not fluent in spanish so plz correct grammar/spelling errors

"What the hell is this?"

Your head whips around to see your husband's figure in the entryway of the apartment. Miguel had just gotten off work, it had been a long day and he was hoping to just spend the rest of his afternoon at home; followed by curling up in bed with his arms wrapped around you. Maybe even do a little more than sleep once the two of you got under the covers.

Instead, he comes home to find you sitting on the floor surrounded by baby blocks and plastic animals. Miguel immediately recognized your little guests. Mayday, who was currently crawling her way over to greet him, and Gerry, Jess's new baby, who you were burping over your shoulder.

You, having ignored Miguel's initial comment, somehow made it to your feet without using your hands, which were occupied with Gerry, taking a few steps in his direction. "Jess and Peter stopped by and said they needed a sitter while they were training," you explain like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Last I checked, they were both married," Miguel's arm scooped up Mayday, who had already crawled halfway up his leg, "Can't MJ or Jess's husband watch them?"

"I don't know, I saw cute babies and said yes," you shrugged simply. The deadpan look Miguel gives you makes you chuckle softly, "C'mon, don't be like that. It's only for a few hours. Besides, it'll give you some practice."

"Practice for what?" You roll your eyes at his stubbornness, planting Gerry on one hip to make room for Mayday on the other, taking both babies to the kitchen for a snack. "....¿Mi amor?"

It took some convincing, but eventually Miguel was aboard the babysitter train. In a way, you felt like it was like you were playing house with him, a few hours of simulated family time. Playing pretend with the little toys Peter had brought with him, bouncing the little ones in your lap and pretending they were flying as you maneuvered them through the air. Something about the domesticity of it was charming to you, watching Miguel trying to fetch Mayday after she had crawled up onto the ceiling. She didn't make it easy for him, but seeing your husband's face shift from annoyed to amused once she fell into his arms warmed your heart.

The four of you were now sitting on the couch. It had gotten late, the two little ones having fallen asleep while watching some random kids movie you had thrown on. You looked between the baby boy in your arms and your husband, who currently had Mayday passed out on his chest.

"This is nice," you say, Miguel glancing at you once you have his attention. It makes you suppress a giggle, knowing he's probably trying to move as little as possible so as not to wake Mayday.

"S'pose it is," he begrudgingly agrees. looking back at the television. "Although, the science in this movie is completely unfounded. I don't think you can bring someone back from the dead with the power of love."

His commentary has you scoffing, "It's about the message, Miguelito, not the science."

"...Well it's a pretty shity message."

"Are you saying you don't think love conquers all?"

"Ye-" the words die on Miguel's tongue when he notices how your eyes narrow and the corners of your mouth turn down, "No? No. I'm not saying that."

Your expression softens, but only slightly, turning your attention to Gerry who's tiny hand is wrapped around your pointer finger. "I love baby hands. They're so chunky and small," you voice your thoughts, absentmindedly pressing down on Gerry's hand with your thumb, "Aww, squishy, little humans."

"Oh, you've got it bad," Miguel chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest, "Cómo se dice...oh yeah, baby fever." How do you say...

You shoot him a smirk, sitting a little straighter, "Maybe I do, what about it?"

Something in the way he looks at you shifts, the glimmer of admiration turning into something much darker. The kind of look that makes you hot under the collar, "Maybe I'll have to find the cure."

A knock at the door pulls you from the conversation, face red as if you just got caught doing something you weren't supposed to be doing. There's an internal sigh of relief when you see it's only Jess and Peter coming to pick up the kids. In all honesty, you only half pay attention to the small talk that ensues, your answers simple and brief when they ask how the kids were and if they had gotten dinner.

As the door shuts, the three of you exchanging your final farewells, a familiar arm snakes around your waist, pulling you into your husband's firm chest. His lips tickle your ear, making you jump as a chill goes down your spine.

"Let's go to bed, mi amor. I think I know just the thing to make you feel better," he's uncharacteristically playful with his words, adjusting his hold so his hand rests on your stomach. "te verás tan bonita con mi bebé dentro de ti." You'll look so pretty with my baby inside you.

Tags:

@prettylittlebrowngirl @khaleesihavilliard @leahnicole1219 @edgycatx

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 18

Staring John Lennon, as that kid I should’ve been nicer to in first grade who always smelled like PB&J and was never to be seen without his pokemon cards

The dancing is really too cute. They’re just absolutely giddy. Making each other laugh AND an excuse to touch? John and Paul’s heaven. 

John saying he was too excited after yesterday to go to bed. Like a fucking kid on christmas.

Everybody is serving today. While the candy-land suit is fun, I actually just love that vivid purple so much that I think it’s better without the coat over it. Billy looks extremely suave and classy.  And those red polka-dots on Ringo. Red suits him, and I think with his very frank, masculine aspect, he looks so beautiful and bold in feminine fits. Paul and John are both just wearing what they wore yesterday. Yeah. But John is still a cutie, and Paul, well, you all know.

The advice chain about finishing a song while you’re working on. Paul → John → George

Paul honestly does a great job being supportive of George and his work. Coming over and grooving with him, then hopping on drums then guitar (right-handed, may I add). Just to give George musical atmosphere to flesh out his song and start thinking of arrangement ideas, I assume. Then letting him bounce ideas around. And the whole time being overly-enthusiastic to build George up. Look how happy George is with the love and attention. 

John helping move some equipment in. We love a man who sometimes doesn’t think he’s too good for manual labor. 

Yes, clean that homeless man’s palm sweat off your instrument. Probably smart. 

TFW you made Paul McCartney jealous of your musical abilities. 

John really knew so well when to be his little impish self and when to be hard and intimidating. Exhibit A, going from, “Can we have our microphones, oh, mister, can we please?” to “And get one for Billy too.” In a matter of seconds.

George Martin stepping in when they’re all getting panicky about the sound and they need an authority figure to reassure them in ways that someone like Glyn Johns never could. Just, perfectly cool and collected, puts everything right as they’re all shouting at him like school children who’ve just had a terrible time in PE. 

“Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh, I do.” Oh, good. He did put it in. That’s nice. Right, and this is the moment Yoko decides to tell John her divorce has come through and pull him in for a big smooch. Honestly, it just shows how threatened she feels by Paul. Nevermind her whole, “good thing Paul isn’t a girl or he would have been a great threat,” quote. Clearly, he just is a threat regardless of sex.

And then John, “I’m freeeee.” At Paul. Honestly, the amount of things they direct specifically and aggressively at each other that should’ve just been general statements if there wasn’t some weird thing between them. It’s really something. Normally, you’d announce something like that to the whole room. But it seems John specifically wants to impress upon Paul that he and Yoko could get married right now if they wanted to. I mean, it’s a little difficult to make the point, because John and Paul almost aways seem to be talking only to each other. But through the whole discussion of Yoko’s divorce, John does not take his eyes off of Paul. 

Oh my gosh, Ivan Vaughn is here? How many emotional support boyfriends does Paul need to make up for John having Yoko? Glyn, Linda, George Martin, Dennis, Robert Fraser, and now Ivan? Fuck’s sake, Yoko, you’re a powerful woman.   

Paul’s Strawberry Fields piano. Let me be as vulnerable and broken as possible in my singing, since I can’t show you any other way that you’re killing me. Do you remember this song? That you wrote when we were at the height of our partnership only two years ago? How happy we were then? How beautiful the world seemed for that one brief moment? And John can’t look at him, because, yes he fucking remembers and yes he knows he’s hurting Paul. But for whatever reason, (my theory is he wanted something more Paul couldn’t give him. What that was and whether it was ever specifically vocalized I don't have a guess) going back to that time would be more painful to John than this has been.  

So they’ve been goofing off and Paul gives this little speech to get them back on task. “Alright Chawn Love. I’ve gotta call order, John, now, valuable time, here, son. Cool down, son.” But John’s response, “Don’t let me down, babe” completely switches Paul’s gears. He now thinks it’s important enough to get in this little snatch of a *meaningful* cover, “Take these Chains from my Heart,” reversing the course of productivity he’d got them on and ignoring the fact that they were about to do a take on two-shilling-a-foot tape. My interpretation of this moment is a bit tin-hatish and long, but suffice it to say, John is not happy with the message.

Everyone convincing Paul to do another take of his song is surprising, considering everything we always hear about how Paul was a tyrant task-master who just forced everyone to keep doing his lame muzak over and over when they all clearly hated it. Mal, “You can always go back to it.” Paul, “Do you want your head kicked in?” John, “We’ll never get a chance to do it again.” Paul, “Okay, honey bunch. Let’s hit it one time, tutti-frutti.” 

Yoko watching Paul check out her boyfriend’s ass. Classic. Also the fact that she literally copied his outfit? I get so much second-hand embarrassment for her, and it’s not when she’s being a weirdo and a statement-maker. It’s the having to physically stick the gum you were offering your boyfriend into this hand because he won’t take his eyes off his boyfriend for two seconds to look at you. 

Everyone laughing at Perfect Paul being out of tune is so funny to me. Like when the nerd finally gets a question wrong and the whole class is all “ooooohhhh!”

Ringo having a grand old time on the drums. I love that he just knew that’s what he wanted to do from such a young age and he never wanted to do anything else. And why would he? He’s a genius at it.

Paul. “John’s got something at 1:30 and so have I.” Smirk emoji. Side-eye emoji. George is with me. “Yeah we've got something too. I’ll do Ringo at 1:30.” I'm dead.

This moment right here hurts me. Paul’s enjoying a nice cuddle with Ringo until he remembers the camera. You’re not going to get in trouble for having your friend’s arm around your shoulders, Paul. Why are you like this? 

[hawkins-losers]

You’re my best view (part 2) | Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: You fulfill your promise and take polaroids for your boyfriend

Word count: 1.6k

Warning: nudity? 

A/N: This ended up being so much longer than planned and I’m not even sorry. It’s also the type of girlfriend I am, but that’s bc I’m an artsy bitch 

Part one

-

It’s been three weeks since you mentioned it and it’s been three weeks of Eddie asking you when you’d do that damn polaroid you promised him.

The day had finally come.

On Thursdays, Eddie's uncle had an earlier shift at the factory, meaning the trailer was empty at an earlier time. You took advantage of that knowledge and planned accordingly.

That meant convincing Eddie to move his Hellfire club meeting.

''Why did you ask me to cancel my 'Satanic worshiping' tonight?'' he asked as you got out of the van and headed inside the trailer, quoting a news magazine about Dungeon & Dragons.

''I did not ask you to cancel it, I asked you to move it to tomorrow. That's different,'' you corrected, sliding your backpack off your shoulder and down on the table.

‘’Same thing,’’ he waved off, closing the door behind you. ‘’So, are you finally going to tell me why? You were being very secretive and promised me I would not be regretting it. It better not be a catch to get me to help you study for Biology class or something because, unless it’s body anatomy, I’m not going to be a great help.’’

You chuckled at the ground. ‘’That’s not it.’’

‘’Thank you, Jesus.’’

‘’Check in my bag, I got a surprise for you.’’

Eddie cocked an eyebrow, curious.

A surprise could mean a lot of things. It could be a movie you rented and a bag of popcorn, sexy lingerie - although that would already be on you and not in the bag -, a tupperware of cookies you had baked, the latest record of one of his favorite bands, or, in tonight's case your polaroid camera.

You watched as he unzipped your backpack, trying to hold back a smile, impatient to see his reaction. His doe eyes rounded up like saucers at the sight of the polaroid camera, and his lips twisted into a Cheshire cat smile, immediately putting two and two together.

A film camera would’ve been more practical to use, but you didn’t trust anyone to develop them. It’s too easy to print one more and keep it in your pocket for personal use. The idea of a stranger having a sexy picture of you on their nightstand and wanking every night to it made you sick to your stomach and very uncomfortable.

Eddie flickered his eyes to you, seeing a bounce in his bones, unable to contain his excitement. ‘’Where is it? Is it in there?’’ He motioned to your backpack.

You shook your head. ‘’No. I need someone to take them for me.’’

‘’Them? As in…more than one?’’

You nodded slowly. There were five polaroids left to take in this camera.

You took a few steps toward the tall young man, tying your arms behind his neck as you made eye contact with him. ‘’Eddie Munson, will you do me the honor of being my personal photographer tonight?’’

As if possible, his smile widened even more. He grabbed your face and kissed you. ‘’Fuck yes.’’

Although the creative concept was quite simple, the ‘make it happen’ part was not.

While Eddie tidied the bed and cleaned a little - an empty bag of chips and a condom wrapper were not good background decor accessories -, you stood before his closet and picked out the shirt you’ll be wearing for the pictures. It was messy and some shirts were very creased from having fallen off their hanger and down the bottom. You were tempted by this Black Sabbath one, but, out of the corner of your eye, you recognized the shirt he gave you the first night you slept over.

It was the one.

‘’Found something to your liking, sweetheart? There’s some a few the dryer too.’’

You said nothing.

In silence, you removed your sweater and jeans and slipped the black and white raglan shirt over your head. It reached about your mid thigh and it smelled woody and spicy, topped with a tinge of weed.

‘’How do I look?’’

Eddie turned around, his jaw almost dropping at the sight. He looked at you with admiration in his eyes and swiped his tongue over his plump lips, feeling his body react instantly. ‘’Are you trying to kill me? You know I can’t control myself when you wear that? It’s my weakness. I swear you woke up today and thought ‘ah today is a beautiful day to kill my boyfriend’.’’

You threw your head back laughing at his antics. His sarcasm and sense of humor were one of the things that seduced you first.

You sat on the bed and Eddie had to fight the envy to pull you on his lap and make out.

Instead he asked, ‘’What’s the plan? I’m no photographer, so you gotta guide me here.’’

‘’I’m gonna do pretty much all of the work. All you gotta do is check in the viewfinder, make sure I’m in frame, and push the button to take the picture.’’

He rolled his eyes. ‘’I know how to use a polaroid camera. I meant, how do I get the right shot? We only got five and I don’t want to mess up.’’

It was cute that he cared this much about the project. That he wanted all the pictures to look beautiful and sexy and not just…dirty - something to jerk off to. If he wanted pictures of that genre, he could just open one of his Playboy magazines under his bed.

The first picture was simple. Just you, sitting on the bed with Eddie's precious red electric guitar. Eddie's Hellfire club shirt was relaxed on your body and exposing most of your thighs as you sat cross-legged. Your hands and fingers were positioned as taught, making it seem like you were playing for real.

For the second one, you laid on your back against the pillows, still holding the guitar. The angle was changed, now exposing your underwear - and the hickey on your right inner thigh - to the camera while Eddie sat on the end of the bed, watching with hungry eyes. He felt his dick stiffening at the sight before him, causing his jeans to become tight and uncomfortable.

He reached for his belt to release some of the pressure down there, but you stopped him.

‘’Nuh-uh.’’ You shook your head. ‘’You take nothing off.’’

‘’Wha- That’s unfair! That was not part of the plan,’’ he began to protest. ‘’How can I sit there and watch you undress and do these sexy pictures if I don’t get to - at least - take my pants off? You know how you make my dick feel. One small peak of your tits and my pants are about to burst.’’

With a mischievous smile on your lips, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and lifted it to flash him.

Eddie groaned painfully. ‘’You little devil.’’ The corner of his lips twitched and he grabbed your ankles. ‘’Get over here,’’ he said, pulling you down and closer to him, making you squeal and giggle.

Your shirt had ridden up due to the movement, exposing your under-boobs.

You didn’t bother fixing it.

Hesitantly, Eddie grabbed the camera. He searched your eyes for consent and pushed the button after getting a nod. This one was a little more on the dirty side, but a little glimpse was nothing too scandalous, right?

You heard the soft click and the polaroid was released. Eddie put it on the table to develop and sent the camera down again. He leaned over you, connecting your lips and slipping his tongue in. Your hands went to his hair, feeling his soft curls and pulling a little as the kiss deepened, while his snaked up your body and to your chest, the coldness of his silver rings making goosebumps raise on your skin. One of his thumbs brushed over the bud of your nipple, making you gasp softly into the kiss and arch your back.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling yourself closer and grinding down. His jeans were rough against your soft skin, but you did it again.

Eddie moaned at the feeling, breaking the kiss. ‘’If you do that again, we’ll never finish this shooting,'' he warned against your lips.

A part of you wanted to say 'fuck the shooting', your body craving his in all the possible ways, but another part wanted to continue playing model.

You captured his bottom lip between your teeth and pulled, teasing a little more before breaking away and taking the shirt off completely, leaving you topless.

Between your collarbones, there was a dainty silver chain with a small pendant of your lover's initial, matching Eddie's. Unlike your school's basketball players who lended their jersey or team jackets to their girlfriend to mark them as theirs, this jewelry represented that you were the only one who really knew the other.

He was about to kiss you again, thinking the shooting was over, but you grabbed the camera. ''Let's do the last two.''

‘’Are you sure?’’ Eddie asked with a puzzled look on his face, his eyes shifting from the camera to yours.

Although you had said no nudes - which Eddie was totally fine with and respected -, you wanted to take a topless picture. You felt confident enough and safe enough to take one. You trusted the hands in who it would be in.

‘’Yes.’’

Later into the night, after a shower and fixing something to eat, you took a look at the now developed pictures and smiled pleasantly at the result. They could’ve been better. The lighting was weird on two of them and you could see perfectly the handcuffs by Eddie’s bed - which you once used in bed -, but you made them together and that’s what made them special.

You took the one where you were clothed the most and handed it to Eddie, who was confused. ‘’That one you can keep in your van. You know, in case you need to show off your hot girlfriend.’’

He shook his head and grabbed the rest from your hands. ‘’Hell the fuck no. No one's going to see any of these. All mine.’’

-

Taglist:  @broadway-or-noway​ @violetsleftfist​ @thelaststraw3​  @cursedandromedablack​  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1​  @wh0reforbucknasty  @eddiemunson-slut  @slvdsjjk​  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux

Eddie Munson taglist: @nighttwingg @yourfavoriteakutagawakinnie​ @heizenka @eddiemvunsongf @Eddie_munsons_girlfriend

[shiny-kaibernyte]

Pokémon Headcanons | Drayton

Pokémon Scarlett and Violet Indigo Disk DLC Spoilers ahead!

Drayton was on screen for all of, five minutes, and suddenly he is my favourite character in this game. Arven, move! You've been dethroned! So now that I have finished the DLC's main story line, here are some headcannons I had for our favourite sloth boy.

SPOILER WARNING AHEAD (Indigo Disk main story)

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

This boy is a total sweetheart, always putting his friends and family ahead of his own needs whenever they need it. Even if he can be lazy at times, he won’t leave anyone out to dry.

Whenever the player had a match against one of the other Elite Four members or just a random trainer nearby, he would always watch from the sidelines. He’s a curious muffin.

He is a night owl, 100%. This man is a Slakoth during the day; come afternoon, and he’s suddenly bouncing off walls and battling any wild Pokemon he can.

He always remembers everyone's birthday; he will deny it till the day he dies, but he does remember the important things even if he acts like he doesn’t.

He will fight anyone who hurts his friends and family. If his reaction to Kieran’s conversations with the player is any indication, he will defend them with as little conflict as possible.

This man can roast someone with one sentence. Never bring him to a roast; he will win.

Dex perfecter. While he doesn't have a 100% DEX, he definitely has it as a side project whenever he has a sudden burst of energy.

Part of him really misses Kieran and wants to spend time with his buddy again, but he can never fully forgive him for what Kiki did to him and his friends.

He almost came along to the Area Zero trip but decided against it, not wanting to hold the group back with his more lacklustre pace.

He definitely ran from a shiny and had no idea.

He will eat everything and anything. If he’s never heard of it before, he has now, and so has his stomach.

Immune to the cold. This dude practically lives in a snowy mountain and doesn’t even bat an eye in blizzards. Dudes, an ice block in disguise

[raainberry]

Chill(y)

« silly series - 4 »

Sana x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - just a case of those insanely cold winter mornings except you have a cute gf to warm up with

wordcount - 801

T/W - one singular soft cuss word, also suggestive

A/N - IDK ABOUT YALL BUT ITS COLD AS BALLS OUTSIDE MY GOSH. every winter i’m appalled at the temperature drops in the morning, the only good thing this year is that i got inspired. i actually dont use Sana’s name btw so if you wanna imagine someone else, you’re free to do so it’s none of my business, ENJOY

Getting woken up by the mattress bouncing a couple times underneath you wasn’t something you expected the night before.

Confusion levels were high, and the sheets ruffling together behind you weren’t any help. You had to open your eyes and look over your shoulder to find answers.

You still didn’t really know what to expect, but seeing your girlfriend shivering as she adjusted the blanket around her own body nearly got it off yours.

“What are you doing?” You mumbled still half asleep.

“It’s so cold.” She complained as she continued to wrap her body in whatever way she could. “Like, actually freezing it’s insane.”

You chuckled, rubbing your eyes before turning on your back. “Did you turn the heater on?”

“No, do you want me to die?”

You rolled your eyes at her drama and began to sit up in order to do it yourself. Sure, there was a possibility she wasn’t exaggerating, but that’s one more reason to do it. The love of your life will not freeze to death on your watch.

“Where are you going?” She asked with her head peeking out of the covers.

“Going to turn the heater on.” You answered, throwing the covers off yourself before leaving a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, well hurry. I don’t want to go retrieve your frozen body in the hallway… I’m not in the mood.”

You only laughed, promising her that it would only take a couple minutes—and it did take a couple minutes, but that was two minutes too long.

She was not exaggerating at all, even the wooden floors beneath your feet felt cold to the touch. You ended up having to sprint back to your bed the way she had done a moment ago.

The sight seemed to amuse her according to the giggles that left her lips and bounced off your bedroom walls. You couldn’t ignore them, nor how they warmed you up on their own on this cold morning.

The way she opened her arms up to invite you into her blanket cocoon made you sway. You gladly jumped into it with the biggest smile, letting her coddle you as you focused on actually warming yourself up.

“Don’t laugh, that was you five minutes ago.” You said, snuggling into her side.

“So what? You should have laughed then too.” She shrugged.

You ignored her words as an idea popped in your mind. It was a little mean, and you felt a little bad about it, but the eventual reward of hearing her laugh was enough to make you proceed.

So instead of answering her, you snuck your cold hand beneath her shirt. Your fingers only grazed her skin, but it was enough to make her shriek at the temperature shock.

“Y/n!” She whined, slapping your hand away as the annoyance in her voice turned into the melodious giggles you loved so much.

“What? You can do the same.”

“It’s not fair, my hands are warm now.”

“And I need to warm up. Sounds ideal to me.” You shrugged innocently. “Although, I would like it either way…”

“This behavior will only get you on the naughty list.” She warned, reminding you of how close the year-end festivities were.

“I wouldn’t mind not getting presents.” You shrugged again before adding, “That means you’re all I need by the way.”

“Am I weak or was that good?” She wondered, making you laugh.

“That was easily my worst work, I’m sorry baby, but you’re weak.”

“Your worst work, huh?” She repeated, and you nodded. “Well your fingers have been doing a great job…”

She finally acknowledged the random shapes you gently caressed all over her side, and your heart started racing as the near future she let on allowed various ideas to bloom in your mind.

“Maybe I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.” She whispered, making the moment that much more intimate.

You only smiled at her suggestion. As much as the ideas were enough for your blood to rise in temperature, it was just too damn cold.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t right now. There’s no way I’m getting out of this blanket.”

“You tease. Who said you’d have to get out of it?” She pointed out, leaving soft kisses along your jawline only for you to try and get away from them.

“Come on, Y/n, can you think of a better way to warm up?”

“Yes, by cuddling you like this and going back to sleep so I can ignore it” You argued, nuzzling your face further into her neck, where she couldn’t access any of your weaknesses.

You felt her breathe in before letting it out in a heavy sigh. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“I know, that’s what I tell myself everyday.”

[atinystraynstay]

What Are Best Friends For? - Kwon Soonyoung

Synopsis: Waking up next to your crush wasn’t how you expected to start your morning. You remember going to a bar to meet your friends of your best friend, Kwon Soonyoung, but it turns out it lead to something even more.

"So are we going to talk about what happened?"

Pairing: Non-Idol! Kwon Soonyoung x Reader

Inspiration: About Last Night - Monsta X

Genre: Angst - jealous Hoshi, mutual pining, best friends to lovers

Contains: mentions nudity, alcohol consumption

Word Count: 3.1k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

I was staring up at the ceiling. It was already 9:44am but I couldn't get myself to move. My hands were clutching onto the comforter. I recognized the room that I was in, but I couldn't quite recall the series of events that got me here. That is, I wasn't sure how I ended up here in Soonyoung's room practically naked.

Last night, the guys held their monthly dinner. You haven’t met all the boys, but you knew how much they meant to Soonyoung. They were his brothers. All the boys held different careers, which made it difficult for them to meet up consistently. What you always loved about their friendship was their dedication towards one another. For that reason, they all promised one another to meet up at least once a month.

You were also out last night. That you do remember. You went out on a date with someone named Jesse. While you two had things in common, the chemistry lacked. You tried giving your date as much attention as possible, but found yourself checking your phone more times than you’d prefer.

"Hey, where are you? Guys want to go out to the bars and I miss you 😔"

Thank goodness for Soonyoung. That text he sent was a lifeline you didn't know you needed. Feeling a bit guilty, you made up a white lie to tell your date.

"I'm so sorry, I need to get going. My roommate locked herself out of our apartment, so I need to go let her in. Text me?"

Before your date could ask for any additional details, you grabbed your purse and jacket and took off running towards the exit. The nearest train station was about a block away, so you didn't need to run far. You wanted to give off the impression you were in a rush, and you genuinely were. You were just in a rush to make the most out of your evening.

"There she is! Finally! Now we can have a great night," Seungkwan teased as he saw you approaching.

Soonyoung turned his head around to see you, a wide grin on his lips. "That bad of a date you showed up 10 minutes after I texted you?" He teased.

"Okay, bad isn't the word that I would use to describe it, but you could say that," you laughed. "Why would I want to be with a stranger when I can be with a few of my favorite people?"

Out of the band of brothers, you've met Seungkwan, DK, Jun, Minghao, Mingyu, and Woozi. Looking around, there was a full group which caused you to stand up a bit straighter. You at least wanted to give a good first impression before the drinks start pouring.

"So this is the infamous y/n?" One man called out. He had somewhat longer hair, pulled back into a tiny ponytail. He wore a smirk on his lips, amusement written all over his face.

"And you must be Jeonghan," you said, to which the boys were amused. Jeonghan nodded, offering his glass to you before taking a sip.

"At your service." "To cause chaos? Oh god, Hoshi-hyung, you think that's a good idea?" one of the younger man asked.

He seemed a bit older for his age, but was quite young in the face. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was a minor who snuck into the bar. His eyes bounced around the room as he took careful look at everyone. You always admired people who naturally look out for others, especially in social settings like this.

"Let me guess! You are Dino? The kind younger brother who needs to let loose a little?"

The boys snickered as Dino's cheeks flushed. He muttered something under his breath before taking a sip of his beer. "I mean, she's not wrong, Dino. We've been trying to get you to come out with us for months!" One of the other man pointed out.

"Hey! Just because you all barely graduated doesn't mean I'm not taking it seriously," Dino defended himself.

The group began to settle a bit. You always adored Soonyoung's friends, and you were grateful he was introducing you more to his world. And it seems like his closest friends thought highly of you. You couldn't help but wonder how much Soonyoung paid or threatened them to not say anything too outrageous.

"Y/n, what's your liquor of choice?" "Tequila!"

All the guys looked at you as if you had a second head. You raised an eyebrow and shrugged before calling over the waiter, ordering 14 shots for the table. All the while, Soonyoung wore a prideful grin on his lips.

"Hyung, I think you found someone who is right at your level." "Just proves that y/n is the best," Soonyoung responded, winking at you.

You weren't sure if it was the warmth of the room or what Soonyoung just said that caused you to feel your cheeks get warm. You were just grateful to be concealed underneath the lights, so you weren't completely exposed. However, it seems maybe Seungcheol noticed. You've always been warned he has a watchful eye on the entire group.

The waiter, your saving grace, brought over the 14 shots. He laid down the serving tray before you all. Thank goodness. You were the first to grab a shot glass, raising it in the air as a way to pivot the conversation. "Here's to a fun night, boys," you announced.

All the boys eagerly joined you. Seungcheol had a smirk, eyebrow raised. You didn't want to make things too obvious because you knew the rest of the group would start asking questions. And you didn't need that type of pressure when you weren't even sure why you were feeling the way you were.

Much to your delight, the conversations were flowing. You were getting along with all the guys, some of the asking about you and others wanting details about your friendship with Soonyoung. They were probably seeking details they could tease him about. But that also meant that the drinks kept coming thanks to Soonyoung.

And the whole time, Seungcheol was sitting back and watching you. As if he was anticipating for the moment your honesty slips, that you might have feelings for your best friend.

Sure, you've always found Soonyoung attractive. Not only was that true when it came to his physical appearance, but you also adored his personality. He was dedicated, driven, and genuine. Any girl would be lucky to call him theirs.

However, your friendship with Soonyoung was too important to you. You often tried to ignore your feelings, assuming that the reason why they were so intense was because you've been single for the past few months. Soonyoung gave you the attention you yearned for, but you didn't think things would eve work out between the two of you. You were friends first and last, nothing would change that.

As Soonyoung went to go to the bar to order another round, Seungcheol decided to swoop in to investigate. Your group had diminished slightly, making it easier to slide around the corner booth. Some of the guys were out on the dance floor, while others were attempting to flirt with people around the bar.

It was only you, Seungcheol, and Wonwoo at the moment. And Wonwoo was too absorbed in a video game on his voice. Surely, you would spill the truth with almost everyone occupied. Especially the one that conversation would be about.

"So," Seungcheol called out. He scooted closer to you, throwing an arm around you to lure you in closer. And also to keep your voices low, in case anyone would return. He wasn't about to let your little secret out in the open, not yet at least. "How long have you liked Soonyoung?"

Your eyes flew open. You had your body turned, so you were fully facing Seungcheol. The look on his face told you that you had been caught red-handed, that there was no use in lying. However, you were going to try your damn best.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you laughed. But not even you could deny how warm and tingly you got just at the mention of his name.

"So you look at all your friends as if they walk on water?" "Actually, yes. All my friends are amazing. Not sure if you make the cut with how you're insinuating I could ever be into my best friend. He's like a brother to me." "Kinky, y/n," he laughed. "Come on, your little secret is safe with me. How long? Does he know?"

Seungcheol's face was close to yours. Your heart stammered as you were trying to rack through all the potential white lies you could tell him. Yet, with Seungcheol's strong gaze on you, you were trapped. The truth was about to come out of you one way or another.

"What am I interrupting here?" A voice called out.

Your head pulled back to see Soonyoung behind Seungcheol. You would've smiled, knowing the conversation with Seungcheol would be put on pause. Yet, looking at Soonyoung, something was wrong. The man who normally radiated positive energy had a frown. What happened?

Seungcheol glanced back before sliding away from you. "Oh, nothing at all. I was just chekcing in on y/n."

Soonyoung quickly looked at you, concern replacing the momentarily silence. You glanced between Seungcheol and Soonyoung, trying to catch yourself up on what just happened. All the while, Wonwoo had a smile curled on his lips. That you could tell from his phone's brightness illuminating his face.

"I don't think she feels good," Seungcheol explained. "I was going to get her some water before taking her home." "She's my best friend. I've got her."

Before you could even protest, Seungcheol slid out of the booth which allowed Soonyoung to get closer. He had his hand extended out to you. You glanced at the table to see 4 empty shot glasses on the table, almost like tiny islands. Where as there were a multitude of other empty glasses placed all over from the crew.

"Come on, sweet girl," Soonyoung cooed. "Let's go home."

That's all you can remember. Now, you were laying in Soonyoung's bed without Soonyoung.

"Rise and shine," a voice called out to you. You jumped as you were a bit startled since you were so deep in thought. Soonyoung leaned against the doorway that led to his bedroom. He had two mugs in his hand, hot with the steam rising out of them. But you were too distracted by the fact that he was shirtless and wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Morning," you said softly. There was a slight headache coming on as you moved up, pulling the comforter alongside with you. "Have you been up long?"

He shook his head. He wouldn't confess yet that he has been up every two hours to check on you. You would feel guilty, feel as if you ruined his night especially since you crashed guys' night. Honestly, you being there was the highlight of his evening especially as all the guys commented how they liked you. How couldn't they? For the time being though, Soonyoung was just concentrating on taking care of you.

"No, doll, I haven't. Figured you might enjoy some coffee though, so I went ahead and a fresh pot. I also have breakfast bagels on the way."

Your face lit up as if it was Christmas day. He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly pushed himself off the doorway. "I see you chose to get comfortable. Sleep well?"

Soonyoung always had this ability to move with such grace, such elegance. He basically floated from the threshold to the bedside. He placed the two mugs on the coffee table before giving you his undivided attention.

"Wait," you said, looking from the mugs back into his eyes. "You didn't sleep here last night? We didn't-" "Oh, y/n. Never would have let that happen," he vowed. "I slept on the couch in the living room. Do you remember anything after leaving the bar?"

Feeling a bit embarrassed and self-conscious, you shook your head. You quickly moved your gaze from your best friend, from your crush to the space in front of you. Your grip tightened on the comforter to make sure you weren't accidentally exposing yourself. "No," you sighed.

Picking up on your mood, Soonyoung quickly headed towards his closet. He began moving his fingers along the hangers, searching for sometihng. You could only hear the movement, assuming he was getting clothing for himself. He definitely was going to kick me out, especially since you stole his bed fort he evening. His couch wasn't the most comfortable thing.

But what are best friends for, I guess?

Soon, a grey hoodie was placed in front of you. You looked back to Soonyoung offered you a gentle smile, motioning with head to encourage you to put it on.

What really sent you for a spiral was the way he turned his back. He was giving you the privacy to slip the oversized clothing over your head. He made it too easy to fall for him.

Seeing that it wasn't up for debate, you quickly slipped the hoodie on. It fits on you like a dress which makes you feel more comfortable. It also smelled like him which solidified the fact that you had developed feelings for your best friend. Fuck.

You cleared your throat to signal for Soonyoung that it was okay to turn around. And when he did, you saw that adorable smile of his. He seemed satisfied to see comfortable once again.

Yet, in his eyes, you could see something was stirring. It was as if he was having a conflict within himself. What wasn't he telling you?

"So," he began, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. God, you were having flashbacks to your conversation with Seungcheol. Your eyes widened slightly as you were worried as to what Soonyoung was going to say. Did Seungcheol text him? "You and Seungcheol?"

It was as if the track record playing came to a screeching halt. You and Seungcheol? You couldn't help but tilt your head in confusion.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind. He is one of my best friends, but so are you. You guys could be cute together. I saw the way he was all over you when I went to get our drinks."

The man in front of you wasn't the confident Soonyoung you've come to adore. This was the Soonyoung who was afraid to be vulnerable, who didn't know if it was okay to communicate his feelings so openly. You could tell that he was anticipating anything, good or bad, by the way he played with his fingers.

"Soonyoungie," you sighed. "Please do not go setting me up with a stranger. He's a nice guy, but he's not my type."

Soonyoung lifted his head, confused. Okay, maybe Seungcheol would've been your type right when you met Soonyoung. You always had a thing for confident men. Which is why it has been so damn easy to fall for your best friend the more his personality began to shine. He is the loudest introvert you've ever encountered.

"But," Soonyoung began, running a hand through his hair. "Cheol-hyung is your ideal guy? That's the type you've always gone after ever since I met you." "What if I want something different?"

It was then, for the first time since sitting, Soonyoung seemed eager. He was like a little kid, always wanting to be looped into every plan and every secret. He looked hopeful. This was just one secret you had hidden from him. Until now.

"What if I told you I've been hiding something from you?" "We're best friends, y/n. We aren't supposed to have secrets," he pouted. "Maybe I was afraid of how you would react?"

He scooted closer to you. His hand moved up to reach offer a hand for you to hold. He always did that whenever he felt like you were about to be vulnerable, always wanting to reassure he was a place of comfort for you. And he was.

"I just feel like the person I might be meant to be with has been right in front of me this whole time. I'm tired of searching in other people for what I truly want."

You prayed internally Soonyoung would understand what you were trying to convey. You knew deep down that you shouldn't be tiptoeing around your feelings. However, you were bracing yourself for the worst which was rejection from your best friend. You could easily play it off that you were attracted to a co-worker or another friend if things went south.

"Like you have fallen for someone who knows you better than yourself?"

Your eyes widened at Soonyoung's statement. You didn't even notice that your hand had slipped into his. Until his fingers slipped in between yours. It was such a comforting feeling to feel his touch, but it was even more electrified under the tension in the room.

"Yeah," you whispered. "Like you have fallen for someone who completes you, who you've always been able to be yourself around." This time, you squeezed his hand gently.

He squeezed your hand back. "Someone like you."

The air left your lungs at how quickly the tables turned. You never imagined that Kwon Soonyoung would confess his feelings for you. It felt like a fever dream.

But you were brought back to reality at the feeling of Soonyoung's hand on your face. His thumb caressed your flushed cheek affectionately.

"I thought I noticed you blush last night, but I thought I just imagining things," he commented. His tone was so soft yet it struck you like a lightning bolt. You didn't even care that you had been caught red-handed. Everything was coming to light. "Why haven't you said something sooner, angel?" "Because I didn't want to lose my best friend," you confessed.

He couldn't help but smile at the sentiment. He hated knowing that you two have been practically on a carousel, too afraid to get off of it because you had become so content being best friends. Truthfully, Soonyoung didn't want to lose you either. He thought if he exposed his emotions he would scare you off.

"I'm not going anywhere," he vowed. Slowly, he leaned in to let his lips ghost over yours. You felt shivers run throughout your body as you tried to reassure your psyche this was reality. "Just say the word and I'm all in. No more bullshit, angel."

"Hell yes."

Soonyoung couldn't fight the grin against his lips. And you swear, you felt him smiler even wider feeling your lips against his. You were smiling just as brightly as you two broke out into a fight of laughter.

So this is what best friends are truly for, huh?

[potol0ver]

Beel Relationship Headcannons SFW and NSFW

Sfw

I think this giant love bugs love language is physical touch, I don’t know what but I just feel like it is-

So he’d always be hovering near you, holding hands with you, or carrying you around places. Of course showing physical attention when you’re comfortable with it if you’re not ok with certain PDA

He’d love snuggles- I just know it- holding you is his favorite, let it be spooning or you’re on top of him holding him like a teddy bear, he loves it.

He’s not one to be the best with his words but he wouldn’t shy away from it, so he’d say his feelings rather bluntly, and it’d be very cute at times.

Like imagine him coming up behind you while you’re busy and he says “I want snuggles” then he just grabs you and you’re off to the bedroom.

Even though he might not be a person to say his emotions in a long winded way, I feel like he’d appreciate a paragraph or two from you every once and awhile gushing about how much you love him

The next day suddenly you have all your favorite food cooked to perfection, your favorite movie/show playing, and a perfect set up on the couch for cuddles.

I feel like he’d love to see you act parent like, like if it was to an actual child (Luke) or to an animal, it would just make him warm and fuzzy inside.

When you have time to come to his sports games, and he hears you cheering for him, it’s like he gets a second wind and somehow does better on the field because of it (not like he needs it, I don’t doubt he’s like the best sports player)

And when he’s done with the game and he sees you wearing his jersey- his heart does backflips

Believe it or not I like to think he’s slightly possessive, he just pushes it down because he feels guilty for feeling that way. So when he sees you in his jersey, he feels relief because now everyone knows even more that you’re his.

NSFW (warning a little bit of monster fucking)

Speaking of being protective, he’d definitely make sure he’s the only thing in your mind during sex.

He’d be overpowering, but not in the rough way (unless you like to that way), he’d pleasure you in all the right ways until you start seeing stars, makes you feel so good you think “I can go for another round” all while your legs are practically numb.

Obviously it would take a while of learning your body for that, but if you have that patience he’d be over the moon to learn all of your weak points.

It’s quite obvious that he’s a munch, so if he needs a slight pick me up before a game or he sees you to antsy or worked up, he’s going to use his mouth on you.

Now- I see this man as someone who just wants his s/o to gain pleasure, if they’re in pleasure he is to. So with that being said,

✨ Beel is a switch ✨

He’d gladly just let you bounce on him or fuck him until you have your fill.

He’s a big guy, even for a demon, so when you’re on top of him or directing him it makes him feel smaller, and that was an unexpected turn on for him.

When he tops he grunts and give words of affirmation

But when he bottoms- he whines- A LOT- and his affirmations turn into mush as he just gets lost in pleasure.

He normally doesn’t know what to do with his hands while he bottoms so please direct the man where you want him.

It’d wouldn’t be possible but the idea of you marking him would be such a turn on for him- so since you cant bruise him since- well- he’s him- put on some lipstick and seeing it on his skin will send him into overdrive (and it’s a great way to get him in the mood)

He also loves marking you of course, just hickies and a nibble here and there, but when you’re done you’ll see bruises from his fingertips neither of you realized were forming under his hands

Now sadly, if you are more of the sadistic type- like impact play- you won’t go far with that- given he can even find a whip not even ticklish- so you’ll have to tease him- like tying him up in magical ropes as you edge him- or please yourself without letting him help- stuff like that

Ok hear me out on this; when he’s in his human form, his cum is quite thick and creamy, and there’d be a lot of it. BUT in his demon form- his cum has eggs in it (I’m sorry I looked for the proper word but couldn’t find it-)

His demon form would also have its own specialties;

His horns wouldn’t be the most sensitive, but he’d love it when he’s using his mouth on you and you use them like a handle bar

The base of his wings would probably be sensitive, just be careful to not hurt his actual wings though

Now hear me out- again- fly demon = long tongue with suction cup at the end- IMAGINE

A/N alright I need to stop here before I expose myself further-

[blue-slxt]

Our Song Cord: Nobody Gets Out of Love Alive

(Chapter 4)

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Time to finally get to the plot point that inspired this whole fic for me lol. This idea just came smack outta nowhere and it wouldn't leave my brain until I got it down so I hope you guys enjoy it. Every chapter title is a song reference, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Reader Making Poor Life Decisions, Kiri Being the Best, Mentions of Smut, Cheating? (If you squint), Friends to Lovers, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mentions of Pregnancy

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Consequences and misunderstandings.

There’s a distinct shift in you and Neteyam’s relationship over the next week or so. In public, you both give the appearance of best friends. Partners in crime that do everything together just like everyone had always known you to. But in private, you more often than not spent your time as a sweaty, heaving pile of intertwined limbs. Even after the end of your heat, the two of you still couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other.

Neteyam, in particular, was getting bolder with his affection. It would be a small brush of his tail against yours, his hand lingering on the small of your back during actual training sessions, or even a quick sneaky kiss he’d press against your cheek when no one was looking. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely adore all the attention he showered you with. Your heart called out for him in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but it hit you with a force strong enough to make the blood all rush to your head. Your body craved him deeply as if he was the very air you needed to fill your lungs. But the revelation of all these feelings did complicate things.

The reality was, Neteyam didn’t belong to you. And soon, he was going to belong to someone else. You felt ashamed every time you would see Layao shoot him a smile or let her hands trail over his arms and you would feel your gut twist with nausea.

You knew that this arrangement you had with Neteyam was going to be coming to an end soon as his ceremony was coming in just a couple days. But it was the fact that your time was running out that made you want him that much more. To steal these small moments with him more often. Build more memories to hold on to like a security blanket. She would have him for the rest of their lives, you should be allowed these last few days.

And what an eventful few days it was. The two of you would see each other every single night. You would spend hours experimenting with new positions and possible kinks. You’ve both discovered a lot about each other and yourselves. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had him spit in your mouth. The thought of such a thing before would have disgusted you, but when you hold your head back and mouth open still holding some of his cum on your tongue and you watch that steady stream roll from his tongue to yours, you swear you’ve never tasted anything more delicious in your life. And Neteyam loves having you on top. He loves being able to watch your head fall back and release so many sweet, dirty sounds while your tits bounce with your every move.

And as much as you loved fucking him, you equally loved the tender way he’d hold you afterwards. You’d lay your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and he’d kiss the top of your head while cooing sweet words to you. On several nights, the two of you would lose track of time and have to scramble to make it back home before everyone else woke up. It was a risky arrangement, but that just added to the thrill of it all.

But now, Neteyam’s ceremony is in 2 days and you can’t help the deep sense of dread you feel lurking just under the surface. It causes your vision to go unsteady and your stomach churn when you wake up in the morning. Suddenly, you’re rushing out of your home and to a nearby bush coughing up your stomach contents. It burns your throat and leaves a disgusting taste in your mouth. Your body feels weak trying to walk back to your home. You quickly rinse your mouth out with some water you have and decide it’s probably smart to go to the healing tent and be checked just to be totally sure that you’re not coming down with a cold. Hopefully, they have something that will settle your stomach.

When you walk into the healing tent you look around for any familiar face. “Kiri? Tsahik?” Footsteps shuffle over to you and it’s Layao. “Oh, sorry, I was just looking for Kiri or Mo’at.”

“Oh, they’re out gathering herbs. Are you alright? Is it something I can help you with?” Her voice is sweet and her expression is gentle. Another churn of your stomach plagues you as you fight to swallow back down the bile building in your throat.

“W-well, I woke up not feeling very well. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t getting sick.”

“I can definitely help you. Mo’at has been training me more in these kinds of things. Come, sit.” She gently holds your wrist and leads you to sit on a mat nearby. You try to take deep breaths to help ease the erratic beating of your heart. Your eyes study her as she pulls out a small, sharp bone similar to the one that Mo’at keeps with her. Her voice is still gentle when she approaches you.

“It’s just going to be a little prick.” She pokes just barely through your skin and brings the tip of the bone up to her lips and lets her eyes close while she listens for Eywa.

After only a few seconds, her eyes shoot open and she smiles brightly at you. “You are with child. You have been blessed.”

A ringing in your ears starts. “I’m sorry, that must be a mistake. A child?” “It is no mistake. I have done this several times now. Eywa is going to bless you and your mate with a precious baby.” She clasps her hands together showing her genuine excitement for you.

Your chest tightens with a mix of emotions.

“I did not know that you had a mate already. I’m sure he will be overjoyed to know!” she places a hand on your shoulder and you do your best to not recoil from her touch.

“This is big news. I should go so I can rest. Uh, thank you.” You say starting to stand up.

“Oh, wait.” She turns to fidget with a myriad of different bowls and herbs and things behind her. “Here. These should help with the nausea and weakness.” She says as she places a small sack of herbs in your hands.

“Thank you. I should get going.”

The walk back to your home feels like it passes by in a blur. Your mind can’t process anything properly right now. A baby…you were going to have a baby. Neteyam’s baby.

‘Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ is your initial reaction. You flop down on your sleep mat and stare blankly ahead. What are you supposed to do?

You look down at your stomach and, all of a sudden, you’re hit with a wave of overwhelming affection. You hold a hand lightly just under your navel and let it sink in that there’s a little manifestation of your love growing inside of you.

But how are you supposed to tell Neteyam? This would completely derail his arrangement with Layao. You don’t want to cause any trouble or embarrassment for anyone.

While you’re lost in thought, there’s a knock on the post outside the entrance to your home. You jump at the sound, but relax a little when you see that it’s only Kiri. “Hey, Kiri.”

“Hey, Layao told us you came by the tent.”

“Oh, yeah. I wasn’t feeling good when I woke up so I just came to get checked.” The apprehension is written all over your face and Kiri can sense it.

“She told us about…” she doesn’t finish her sentence but gestures to your stomach.

“Ah, I see.”

Kiri comes closer to you and crouches next to you. “Don’t look so excited.” She jokes. You know she’s trying to cheer you up, but there’s too much anxiety storming in your mind right now.

“So, who is the lucky guy? Is it Aykxo? I saw you talking with him a while ago. He’s quite the catch.”

You try to quickly compose yourself when you turn your head away from her, but the quiver in your lip shakes your voice as it comes out. “No. It is not Aykxo. But I can’t say.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “If it’s not Aykxo, then who else would it be? The only other person I ever see you with is Net—“, she cuts her own sentence short when the circuits connect. When she goes silent, all you can do is look at her. Her expression shifts from shock to pity. “Oh no.”

“You can’t tell him, Kiri.”

“You’re joking. Please tell me you’re not serious. How did this happen? When? Is that why you’ve been out so late together every night? And all the marks on you? Oh, Eywa, I think I’m going to be sick!” You can barely register Kiri’s rambling when your head falls into your hands and the tears start to well in your eyes.

She pauses and takes a breath when she notices your small sniffles. She places an arm around your shoulders. “What are you planning to do?”

“I can’t tell him. It would ruin everything for him. I can’t do that to him.”

“But this is his baby. He’ll want to be there for you. He has to know. Besides, what are you going to tell him when your belly starts growing?”

She’s right. And you know she is. Of course, Neteyam deserves to know and you know that he would want to be there, but the fear of what this could do to your relationship is too great in your heart. It’s one thing for him to reject you, but to turn away you and your baby would utterly crush you.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I can’t tell him, Kiri. I can’t. And you can’t either. Nobody can know.”

“Fine. I won’t say anything. But he should know. This baby is as much his as it is yours.”

You huff out a breath trying to decide on the best course of action.

“Do you need anything?” she asks still holding onto you.

“Just time.” You say plainly.

“Alright. Consider it done.” She responds in a very matter-of-fact tone.

You watch her in confusion as she stands and makes her way out of your home before you even have the chance to ask her what she means. Instead, you fall on to your back on your sleep mat and stare up at the sky musing to yourself about your situation.

…

This might be a mistake. When Neteyam asked you earlier if the two of you were still meeting tonight, every logical part of you screamed at you to make up some kind of excuse to say no. But seeing his hopeful eyes and that damned smile that defied all logic, you couldn’t find it in you to turn him down.

So, here you stood near the shack waiting. You beat him here tonight since your anxiety was running too high for you to just sit at home.

When you hear a rustling in the nearby bushes, your body tenses feeling him get closer. When Neteyam finally emerges, he’s clearly surprised to see you here first, but happy all the same.

“You’re already here. That excited to see me?” he jokes walking straight to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and presses feather light kisses to your shoulder.

By Eywa, how are you not supposed to just soften under his gentle hold? “Teyam?”

“Hm?” he hums in response without moving his face away from your neck.

“Can we just sit together for a while? It’s been kind of a rough day and I just really need you.” Your voice is hesitant and small. But when he pulls back, there’s not even a hint of disappointment there.

“Of course, sevin.”

He’s gotten much more comfortable with things like that too lately. Every now and then, Neteyam will drop in a pet name for you. It makes your heart pound every time, even if you feel like it shouldn’t.

He sits on the ground cross legged and opens his arms out for you in waiting. You smile to yourself before slotting yourself right into his lap facing him and crossing your legs behind his back. You rest your head on his shoulder and he mimics you while rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

“What is bothering you, syulang?”

If there was ever a time to tell him the truth, this would be it. It should be. And yet, your mouth just opens and closes repeatedly searching for the right string of words.

“I just woke up not feeling really good…” not technically a lie. “And I just keep thinking about this. Soon, you are going to have your mating ceremony and we’ll have to stop this.” It sounds needier to your ears than you’d like for it to. “I mean, you won’t need my help anymore, you know?”

Your attempt at a recovery is unconvincing at best and you just pray that Neteyam won’t pick up on the underlying context. He’d never tell you whether he did or didn’t, though. Neteyam is a smart man. But still, it doesn’t take much more than half a brain and a pair of working eyes to figure out that you had it bad for him. He found it nothing short of adorable how your face would flush when he’d kiss your cheek or how you would stutter and stumble over your words when you’d ask for him to touch you.

“Well, if that is worrying you, then you’ll be happy to know that the ceremony has been postponed.” He says still just mindlessly rubbing his fingertips in shapes on your back.

Instead of happiness, your first emotion is surprise. You pull your face back to be able to look at him to make sure he was being serious. “What? Why?”

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not sure. Apparently, grandmother had a change of opinion and suggested to my parents that we put the whole thing on hold.” “For how long?” “They didn’t say. Just until she is sure again, I guess.”

Your brain tries to figure out what reason Mo’at could possibly have for changing her mind. That was something she rarely ever did. Once she had an idea set in her mind, there was usually no talking her out of it. And, for some reason, your mind keeps flashing back to your conversation with Kiri from earlier.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just time.”

“Alright. Consider it done.”

There’s no way. You thought her demeanor was a little odd, but there’s no way that she managed to pull this off. You try to suppress the small smile that makes its way onto your face. You mentally file away a note to make her the best bracelet your amateur fingers could manage.

Neteyam notices the lift in your expression and it clearly pleases him to see you happy.

“I will always need you. We’ve spent our whole lives together. How could I ever not need you?” The hint of love in his voice and eyes is disarming. How are you supposed to not be completely in love with this man? You place your hands on either side of his face and brush your nose against his with a small giggle. “You are too sweet to me, Teyam.”

For the rest of the night, you both pass your time with just casual conversation. Neteyam tells you what kind of trouble Lo’ak has gotten himself mixed up in lately and you fill him in on the latest gossip among the people. Neteyam isn’t really one for gossip, but he loves seeing how enthusiastic you are with your vivid retellings. Neither of you can keep your hands to yourselves the whole time. You always have to be touching in some kind of way. Sometimes Neteyam has you sit in his lap, sometimes your back is pressed against his chest while you sit between his legs, hand holding, playing with each other’s braids, stolen kisses, longing looks, it’s more intimate than some mated couples.

It’s enough to make you temporarily forget about the tiny truth hiding in your womb behind your still flat stomach.

Once daylight starts threatening to creep in, you both decide to call it a night and sneak back home. Since it’s still so early, you actually accept Neteyam’s offer to walk you home this time. It’s far too early for even the earliest risers to be stirring around so there should be no real harm in it. All the while, your mind is trying to work out the best way to break the news to him. And then comes the fear. You don’t want to lose this. It’s so comfortable and pure and you don’t want to ruin that. But you won’t be able to keep this under wraps for long.

“Thank you for walking me, Teyam. You really didn’t have to.” You say turning to him once you reach your home.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I want to make sure you’re safe. Besides, it gives me an excuse to spend an extra few minutes with you.” His slanted grin exposes one of his fangs and you want to roll your eyes at him, but your smile gives you away. You go to turn and walk in, but you stop when he grabs your hand and turns you back to him. His eyes roam up and down your body and his voice is low. “Will I see you later?”

Fuck, he can’t look at you like that and talk like that. You literally can’t say no to him when he looks at you like that. You have to bite your lip just to keep from screaming. “Sure, Nete.” You say his name in a singsong voice teasing him.

He may laugh, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it. He steps forward to peck your lips one quick time before finally letting go of your hand and watching you walk inside.

Neteyam knows that he’s in a tricky spot. On the one hand, he feels a deep sense of duty to his family, to his people, and to Layao. But on the other hand, he’d be lying if said he was upset about the arrangement being postponed because that means that he gets to hold on to this fantasy a little longer. He gets to fulfill his duty to his own heart. But which one should take precedent? It’s true he doesn’t want to disappoint his parents or his intended mate, but he can’t picture his future without you. Loving you, mating with you, having you bare his children. Not to mention how you not-so-secretly loved him back. It should be just as simple as that, shouldn’t it? He decided that he needs to have a talk with his father.

…

Rays of light beaming through the spaces of your kelku wake you late in the morning. Your stomach flips and threatens to make you spill, but you choke it back down just barely. This nausea feels like it will be the death of you. But you have daily chores to attend to. With a couple of deep breaths and a couple swigs of water, you settle your stomach enough to make it out of bed and out into the village. Today would be the perfect day to help weave some baskets. You can sit still and you can practice your weaving skills. You take a seat near the other women working on their baskets and use your fingers to slowly form the right intertwining pattern.

It’s tricky for you to say the least. Weaving has never really been your strong suit. Trying to understand the way the patterns and lines all come together to form one cohesive object was beyond you, but you give it your best effort regardless.

You get a little distracted by the feeling of eyes on you. When you look up, you can notice some of the other girls looking at you and whispering amongst themselves. That’s a little odd, but you figure it’s nothing worth worrying about.

“What ya working on?” a familiar voice appears right behind you and makes you jump. When you look, a smiling Kiri is crouched behind you.

“Kiri, you nearly made my heart stop!”

She hides her laugh behind her hand, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You were just focusing so hard.” She moves around so that she’s sitting next to you now. “So, how did things go?”

You swallow hard trying to find the right words yet again.

“It went fine. We talked…a lot…about a lot of…stuff” you couldn’t sound more unconvincing if you tried.

“You didn’t tell him yet, did you?” you flinch a bit at her deadpan expression and tone.

“It just wasn’t the right time.” “Well, I’ve made sure that you have plenty of that.”

“So it was you!” your voice gets a little louder before you can really catch it.

“Shhhh, keep your voice down! You said you needed time so I bought you some time. But you only have so long before you’re not going to be able to hide it anymore. Plus, I have no clue how long before my grandmother actually makes up her mind. So, whatever you do, you better do it quickly.”

She’s not wrong. And you’re grateful for her help, but what are you supposed to do? How do you break news like this?

“But what am I supposed to say to him, Kiri? ‘Hey Neteyam, I know you’re supposed to be with Layao but, I’m pregnant with your baby’? How well do you really think that will go?” you ask with all the sarcasm you can muster.

“Very well, actually! Even the blind can see how much my brother loves you. And I mean love loves you. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

Your cheeks get hot and you can only look away from her. “The timing just still feels off. I’ll tell him. I will. I just need to find the right time.”

Kiri sighs deeply next to you, “Fine, but just don’t let it get away from you.”

“Alright.”

…

When Neteyam arrives back at his family’s kelku, only his mother and Tuk are there. Neytiri was prepping meat for their dinner and Tuk was working on weaving a small basket for herself. Neytiri smiles at Neteyam when he walks in. “Welcome home ma’itan. Food will be ready soon.” She says barely taking her eyes off her working hands.

“Where is dad? I need to speak with him about something important.”

“Your father is in a strategy meeting.” She says and finally looks at Neteyam to see the apprehension written all over him. “What is it that’s troubling you?” She finally sets down the meat and her knife while she watches him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

Neteyam considers brushing it off as nothing and coming up with some kind of excuse so he could avoid this conversation with his mother. But then he thinks about it a little deeper. Maybe his mom was the right person to start with after all. While she was always strong and firm, she was also incredibly empathetic when it came to her family. She was often the more level-headed one and more willing to hear them out. He relents with a sigh and walks over to help her with prepping the food for dinner while he talks.

“It is about the arrangement with Layao…I am having some doubts about the whole thing. I understand that she is who you and dad and grandmother have chosen and she is a nice girl, but—���

“But you hold someone else in your heart.” She finishes the thought for him. She was always good at that kind of thing.

He finds himself unable to speak and opts to simply nod his head instead while he continues to work on his slicing. Neytiri places a hand on Neteyam’s face and makes him look at her.

“Layao is a good girl and the two of you together is good for the clan.” Neteyam’s stomach drops hearing this. “But, at the end of the day, you need to do what is good for yourself and if it is this other girl, then Eywa will find a way to make it so.” A small glimmer of hope reappears in Neteyam’s eyes.

“It would not be the first time something like this has happened. It’s how I ended up with your father.” She casually drops in.

Neteyam laughs a little to himself remembering all the times his parents would recall their love story to him and his siblings when they were little. It gave him hope that if things could work out for them this well, then maybe Eywa could make something work out for him too.

Neytiri takes the knife and food from Neteyam, “Go, find your father. It sounds like you need to speak to him.” A ghost of a smile sits on her face and Neteyam perks up a bit feeling a new wave of surety. He offers his mother a kiss on the cheek before jumping up from his spot and heading out to search for Jake.

The clan is alive with the hustle and bustle of everyone going about their day and getting their duties done. In the midst of his search for his father, Neteyam hears a call through the crowd of people.

“Neteyam! There you are!”

When he turns around, Layao is already making her way over to him. He sighs a bit because he doesn’t have time for this right now, but he doesn’t want to be rude to the poor girl. It was already bad enough that he was on his way to call off their arrangement. No need to twist the knife by ignoring her too.

“Layao. Were you looking for me?” he asks putting on his best, most casual smile he can right now.

“Yes, I wanted to give you this. I heard that you like yovo fruit and I figured you could use a snack while you’re going about your day. I’m sure you’re very busy.” Her hand rubs at the back of her neck trying to calm her nerves. Neteyam’s heart breaks for her. She’s truly a sweet girl and she is a catch in her own right, but she just isn’t the one that his heart calls for.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s nothing. Have you heard the good news?”

“What news?”

“About your friend. She and her mate are being blessed with a child.” Her excitement is evident, but Neteyam feels like his brain just short-circuited.

“She and her mate? A child?” he reiterates to ensure he heard her correctly.

“Yes! She came to me the other day because she was feeling ill and I received the message from Eywa. Isn’t it exciting? But I didn’t know she was mated already. I wonder if it’s Aykxo. Remember when we saw them talking that one day? And then they disappeared off into the forest together after eclipse. It has to be, right? That’s what everyone else is saying.” her smile grows wider while she theorizes about the origin of your unborn baby and the secret of your lover.

Now, Neteyam is the one who’s feeling ill. This couldn’t possibly be true, could it? You would have told him…wouldn’t you?

…

Nerves consume you as you lean against the tree near the shack. Neteyam is late. He usually would be here by now and Neteyam is never one for being late. Maybe he got caught by someone trying to sneak off and he needs more time to get away. Your foot is involuntarily tapping the ground trying to release some of the tension in your body. Suddenly, you hear rustling through the bushes and can faintly make out dramatically swaying braids in the dark.

“Teyam! I was starting to worry that you weren’t coming tonight.” You greet him with a smile and walk towards him as he breaks through the foliage. When you approach him, he takes a step back from you. Your face falls. Neteyam has never avoided your touch before. Especially not recently. Usually, his hands are drawn to you like moths to a flame the second he lays eyes on you.

“What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenches and he’s avoiding looking you in the eye. This isn’t like him at all.

“Neteyam!” your voice gets a little louder urging him to finally look at you and say something. When he does look at you, the sight makes your heart break. His eyes are red and filling with tears and there’s a deep sadness tainting his otherwise flawless face.

“Teyam?” your voice is just above a whisper stepping towards him. Your hand is about to rise to touch his face, but his hand gently stops yours by your wrist.

“Is it true?”

You almost can’t even hear the question with how low his voice is.

“Is what true?” “Are you pregnant?”

Silence. Your entire body stills. It feels like even your lungs have frozen in place and stopped your breath all together. His eyes study your face waiting for some kind of sign or an answer. But, in truth, your silence says it all.

“Is it Aykxo’s?” his voice wavers ever so slightly when he speaks.

“Who did you hear that from?”

“That’s what everyone is saying. And I know you went off with him that night you went into heat.” The hurt in his voice is evident. You want nothing more than to deny it; to tell him the truth. But when your mouth falls open to speak, you can’t seem to find words.

“What’s worse is that you didn’t even tell me. I had to hear it from someone else.”

“Who did you hear it from?” “What does that matter? The point is that it should have come from you.” His voice is more firm with the hurt giving way to agitation.

“Teyam, I wanted to tell you, but it’s complicated…” tears start to well in your eyes ready to spill at a moment’s notice.

“No kidding. And to think, I thought you might actually…” a small sob breaks his sentence and he has to pause to take a breath and recompose himself. “Never mind. I don’t know what I expected. This whole thing was always supposed to be just temporary anyways so why don’t we just cut it here? We’ve got all we needed out of each other so no need to continue anymore.”

“Tey, please don’t do this. Just let me explain—”

“Congratulations on your child.” He turns and walks back through the dense bushes and branches and disappears right before your eyes.

The shock finally subsides and the despair flows through you. Your knees give out and you fall to the ground with tears cascading down your face. Sobs rack your body as you hold your stomach. It’s your worst nightmare come true. The man you love has renounced you and your baby. The baby that you didn’t have the courage to tell him belonged to him. That you belonged to him. Looking down at your belly, you quietly promise your baby that the two of you will make it through this…somehow.

Taglist: @soleilmoon @netemoon @fifia-writes @strangersav11

@eywascall @neteyamsluvts @heart-an0n @iman-lu @xylianasblog @theunfortunateplace @hyejusdiary @savvysscandles @randxmthxughts @tiredmamaissy @yeosxxx @atwow69 @bellstwd @iseeyouuu @simp4ff @universal-s1ut @mynameisjuno @teyamsatan @uaze123 @nelissecrectplace  @angrypomeranianwifey @perfectxserendipity @yumimak @rainbowturdz @rhiannonhippiegirl @sullymenrhot @hiddensnow1 @rainymoonsheep @ivysully @badbussylol @afro-hispwriter @fandom-geek17 @teyamsmate @iameatingmyhair @leaveitbythewave @battylupin @angie-1306 @annahblue @criticallybella @xreadersstuff @yunho-leeknow

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist. If your tag isn't working, please check your settings.)