#i’m probably wildly wrong about all of this

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[anderscim]

✦ another (even wilder) theory with bagel

similar to my teruko theory, this one also has a lot of room for rebuttal. to be honest, a lot of the evidence i have for this is quite flimsy (_ _;)

this theory is mainly about mai akasaki’s connection to the cast, and how it relates to the killing game in general.

take this with a grain of salt as always

//spoilers for up to chapter 2 part 1 of drdt

//additional spoilers for bonus content, such as the bonus episodes and the new “literature girl insane” MV

there shouldn’t be any tally5 spoilers if i’m not wrong ( ・∇・)

here’s one question i have for you all: how many members in the cast, right now, actually know mai akasaki?

it’s definitely implied in the bonus episodes and the quotes on her character page that she’s connected with everyone in the current cast, but there was a paradox i noticed—if it even is one, that is (-.-;)—that led me to think that this question…may actually be a lot more complicated than it seems.

let’s bring up the bonus episodes first. min’s bonus episode is definitely during their time at hope’s peak. they’re literally at the school, studying about it, discussing min’s “role” as an ultimate compared to the other students, etc. basically, many details point to min and “unnamed classmate” (who is presumably mai, based on the flowers in the dialogue box of the bonus episodes matching up with those on mai’s tattoo) being students of hope’s peak academy in the united states. though there’s no physical evidence or exact basis for this, i would personally like to think that xander’s bonus episode is placed during spring break at the academy. he is talking to his “classmate,” after all—and in that case, it would also chronologically line up with min’s (whose bonus episode takes place a week before spring break).

presumably, the other bonus episodes will follow a similar pattern, and we will see mai/UC talking to other members of the DRDT cast to get to know them more. i will assume this means that the whole cast, not just min and xander, have been to hope’s peak before—and attended class as students there. after all, it would be the only way the bonus episodes would make sense.

however, the dialogue from the first few episodes of the series suggests something else.

as implied from the dialogue, all of the students believe they are only entering the entrance ceremony of hope’s peak as freshmen, and had no previous affiliation with the school. including xander.

obviously, this means that at the very least, their memories have been tampered with to remove anything regarding their experience at hope’s peak academy.

— sorry, very quick side tangent (*'▽'*) going by this theory, if the drdt cast genuinely went to hope’s peak, it’s very likely that they had to do a bunch of paperwork and submit a lot of information for their enrollment—which probably includes medical information and any accommodations that were necessary for their well-being. additionally, if we assume that the cast attended hope’s peak for a year or a few years, it’s likely that whoever the mastermind is, they had the time to know the rest of their classmates well enough to be able to identify their preferences either way, this would actually be a pretty strong explanation as to why many components of their environment seem to be extremely fine-tuned to their preferences and necessities, despite no recollection of sharing that information with anyone involved in the killing game. though i bet this was already obvious, i felt like it was something i probably should bring up.

—

in that case, however—how would it affect their memories with mai?

as i can’t exactly speculate for the other students, i’m going to trace back to what i know. at the very least, it seems to be implied that min only met mai after being admitted into hope’s peak academy. min essentially drove her entire life around schoolwork, and studying for the “ultimate contest for eminent students,” the test that allowed min to receive her title—it’s likely that before then, she never surrounded herself with friends nor had any time for herself to explore her own hobbies. which probably means that she wasn’t acquainted with mai before enrolling into hope’s peak.

her backstory is really sad, by the way. i really wish she lived longer ( ´△｀)

as for when it comes to the other characters, i would like to remind you that hope’s peak scouts across the country for their students—so it’s more logical to assume that many of them resided in hometowns that were very far away from each other. so unless mai’s talent was the ultimate traveler or something, i think it would be very improbable for her to know everyone in the cast before their admittance into hope’s peak.

taking this into account, and assuming that the cast’s memories of hope’s peak were completely erased, there’s a possibility that the cast doesn’t remember mai akasaki, despite her connections with them. the only exception would be teruko, who clearly remembers mai—and seems to have been helped by her when enrolling into the academy in the first place, pointed out by this theory here by @laly-481.

…or at least, that’s what i thought at first—until someone decided to kick in the door while holding a new music video.

i guess in that case, the biggest question i should answer is this—why does david remember mai?

getting into very, very wild theory territory here. take what i’m about to say with a grain of salt assuming that the music video is really a reflection of david’s worldview and thought process, please ignore the fact that i’m acting like the antithesis of occam’s razor right now, then there’s no reason for mai akasaki to be featured in the video—much less have a photo of her placed in a wooden frame—if he didn’t remember her.

yet, there she is, on the right:

she even has a little description about how she was “someone dearly loved,” which fits perfectly with her character and the secret quotes on her profile page.

this is indicative of the fact that david remembers mai—and knows her well enough to even make an accurate statement about her. but, how?

obviously there’s the simpler explanation of “david knew mai before they went to hope’s peak,” which is of course a totally valid explanation—however, some details about the new music video made me consider a possible, different theory.

a grain of salt? more like, a mountain of salt from here on out

when i was watching the “literature girl insane” music video earlier, i noticed something interesting about this frame: 

here, xander doesn’t have his eyepatch. though i’m not throwing away the possibility that this was just a technical error on the artist’s side—personally, this could be a indication that david knew xander before the killing game. 

seeing as all of the cast are connected by the unnamed “classmate,” after all, it’s a likely possibility that the current participants of the killing game were originally in the same class at hope’s peak academy. which means, they all probably knew each other before this whole killing game went down. 

in an earlier theory, i talked about how xander may have been the person in the opening prologue cutscene, and how he probably had his eye injured at that time. given that the person speaking during that scene is aware of the killing game (and is expressing their desire to end it), this event likely happened right before the killing game started—otherwise, it would be pretty imprudent for the mastermind to announce it and then wait for an entire month to set up everything, then make everyone fall unconscious, then remove their memories, etc. 

what i’m trying to get here is that the cast, had they still retained their memories from hope’s peak, would definitely remember xander with both eyes. however, we know this to not be the case—from his introduction, we all see that xander had already lost his right eye from the beginning of the killing game. therefore, for david to remember xander from before he got his eye injury, he must’ve had at least some partial memory of hope’s peak—otherwise, it would be highly unlikely. this would give a possible explanation as to why the frame of xander without his eyepatch appears in the “literature girl insane” music video. and maybe give a possible explanation as to why david cared about xander despite only knowing him for ~three days. and defended him passionately during the first trial even after a lot of evidence pointed to him attacking teruko.

this also would explain why david remembers mai—assuming they were in the same class, since mai likely had incredibly close connections with the cast (including david), it’s more than likely that david cared about mai and possibly (vaguely) remembered her even after having his memories tampered with.

well, the “no-eyepatch” deduction completely hinges on the assumption that xander didn’t like, take off his eyepatch in front of david like he did with teruko, so i may be completely wrong about this. however, it is interesting that such a small detail was included in the mv.

so is this one:

i don’t know how it is for you guys, but that fork seems suspiciously similar to the fork in the prologue (which i theorized to be the item that caused the injury to xander’s right eye). additionally, the fork literally stabbing the “face” of the clock is… quite symbolic. it may be just me. i’m not sure. (-_-;) though, it could suggest that david remembers that scene—and perhaps knows about the “possible escape” of killing teruko? i highly doubt he was the one who wrote the note (rather i think that was xander himself), but it may account for that 2nd vote for teruko in the first trial.

my personal (unhinged) theory (with really no way to back it up) is that david may have retained partial memories of his experience at hope’s peak—but probably only a little, definitely not all of them. this may explain why he remembers mai and seems to recall xander before his eye injury (despite xander seemingly not remembering that they’ve met before)—but hasn’t called out the true mastermind nor seems to remember an escape yet. also, though his current behavior in the 2nd trial may imply that he’s trying to end the killing game early via wrong vote, i personally think he’s just breaking down and acting suicidal without that objective in mind, based on his actions.

little side note at the end: it would be absolutely amazing (and ironic) if the two people with the most distant character relationships with the rest of the cast (as of now) happened to remember the single person that had the closest relationships to all of them.

minor clarification/add-on: i just realized that i never said this, really sorry about that. m(_ _)m but basically, i don’t think david has any sort of clear memories regarding xander and mai at hope’s peak—rather, when i say “partial memories” i meant more along the lines of “vague nostalgia you can’t quite place.” he might somewhat recognize their faces at most, but likely not any clear sequences of events. and honestly, what i wanted to talk about more in regards to this theory is more about the fact that only teruko (and maybe david) remember mai in the first place—the rest of the cast probably can’t, with the way their memories were wiped.

uh, this was quite the ride. i truly felt like the antithesis of occam’s razor as i was writing this

however—this theory likely has a lot of points that can be argued against, as well as many other possibilities i didn’t consider. please, don’t be afraid to drop them in your reblogs or comments, i would love to read them!

and as always, take this with a (larger than usual) grain of salt

[frogs-in3-hills]

i think i have not had many substantial observations about worm in my liveblogs despite being 3/4 of the way through because my main goal thus far has not been to experience worm, or even necessarily enjoy worm, but to finish worm. so i have decided there is only one way to solve this problem. once i finish worm i am going to start over and read worm all over again

[deadsetobsessions]

“DIDJA SEE THAT, DANNY?!” Tim, a scrawny eleven year old now, excitedly smacked Danny’s arm.

“Ow. Yes, yes I did.”

“Oh, gosh, I have to tell Jazz about this!!” The kid waved his arms about wildly, grinning from ear to ear.

“Jaso- I mean, Robin, smiled at me! And said he liked my t-shirt!! Oh my god, he likes literature puns, he even laughed! And then he punched the bad guy in the face! Look! I even saved the tooth!”

“Okayyy, nope!” Danny plucked the tooth and tossed it, ignoring Tim’s betrayed face. “I’ll trade you that for this.”

Danny Held out a piece of paper with Robin’s and Batman’s sigil on it, from when he asked them to sign it after they “saved” the two brothers from the two-bit thugs trying to mug them.

“Oh. My. God. This is like the best day of my life!! I love you, Danny! You’re the best brother ever!! Oh my god! I have to get Nightwing’s signature!!!”

Danny felt a rush of warmth at Tim’s proclamation of affection. Ah, he should probably step in.

“Hey, wait, no, we’re not going to Blüdhaven for you to stalk another vigilante.”

“It’s not just any old vigilante-!” Tim ignored Danny’s dramatic clutching-pearls gesture of mock hurt. “It’s Nightwing. The original Robin! He gave me my first ever hug!”

Danny paused. God dammit.

“…Fine.”

“YESSSSSS!!!!”

——

Danny-

“I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

-is so damn tired.

“Tim. I’m literally a vigilante ghost. What makes you think I’d be stupid enough to argue with a kid who runs around Gotham at night to take pictures of other vigilantes?���

Tim deflated. “Oh. Honestly, I thought you’d put up more of a fight…”

Jazz laughed and ruffled Tim’s hair. “I definitely couldn’t stop Danny when he went out. He trusted me to support him and I trusted him to come to me if he was injured, though. Can you promise me that, Tim?”

“Yeah… okay, Jazz, I promise.” Tim promised, even if he was still pouty.

Danny chimed in.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I’m totally worried and I’m gonna hover like a mother hen when you go out, but again, I know how stubborn and crazy we vigilante types have to be.” Danny paused. “Do you want me to put up a token protest?”

Tim nodded, sulking. “Yes, please. I had a speech planned out.”

Jazz and Danny exchanged amused glances.

“Oh, okay, my bad, kiddo. Here, let’s start from the top.”

“Okay. Ahem,” Tim straightened his back, settling into his previous mulish expression once more. “I’m gonna be Robin whether you want me to or not!”

Danny placed an appropriately disapproving frown on his face. “No, you can’t! It’s dangerous! You could get hurt! You’re just a child!”

Tim launched into his speech. “But I can’t stay still and do nothing when people are getting hurt! Even…!”

They were gonna be here for a while. There was definitely something about Batman going on a spiral because Jason wouldn’t be able to walk again after the Joker got to him. Danny wondered if ectoplasm could help. He might offer, if it actually had a change of getting Tim out of the vigilante business.

But that’s for later, because they had time. Jazz was on Spring Break… and they’re still staying here for free, after all of these years.

“So, how are you going to convince Robin to let you be Robin?” Jazz asked Tim.

Tim froze. “I… hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“Well, you could always remind him of the fact that we saved him from the Joker. He seemed pretty ready to leave the Robin mantle, the last time I saw him as Phantom.”

“I don’t want to blackmail him into it!” Tim whined.

“It’ll just be a suggestion, Tim.” Jazz smiled patiently.

“Besides,” Danny continued, smirking mischievously at his adopted little brother. “If you were actually blackmailing him, you’d pull out the photos where he ate dirt.”

“I guess that’s true…” Tim mumbled. “I know! I’ll have to follow them to see how I can best approach him!”

"I think that's called stalking," Jazz deadpanned.

"Well, it's not any worse than what he's already done." Danny shrugged at his older sister. "Sure, kid. Why not? Do whatever you want."

"I was planning to!" Tim bounced off to grab his photography gear. Jazz stared off after him.

"Should we be encouraging that?"

"More like can we actually stop him?" Danny leaned back, lazily completing his GED assignments. Jazz sighed.

"Guess not. Make sure he doesn't get in trouble."

"Do you even know how hard that is, Jazz?" Danny complained, dodging the whack Jazz sent at the back of his head. She smirked at him.

"Womp, womp, Danny. How does karma taste today?"

Danny flipped her off as he put the last punctuation on the paper. He heard a clatter and groaned.

“I’m gonna go watch Tim stalk Batman for the night. Want anything from the store?”

Jazz hummed. “Get me the specialty strawberry ice cream, from that one place?”

“The one that’s definitely a front for Falcone’s money laundering??”

“Yeah. They make good strawberry ice cream.”

“Sure.”

Danny went ghost and flew straight through the walls to catch Tim sneaking out by the scruff of his collar.

“No. Bad Tim.”

“Awww, come on Danny!”

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

Robin sucks on her drink through her straw, “why, exactly, are we here?”

Steve sighs into his own drink.

Robin looks around the yard from her perch on a lawn chair, “I can’t help but notice, Steven, that we are very clearly the oldest people here.”

Steve watches Eddie balefully. He’s trying and failing to light the grill. It’s almost embarrassing to watch; Steve can’t seem to look away.

“Steven, I am drinking something that was mixed together in bowl. I’m drinking it out of a red solo cup. I haven’t touched one of these in a decade. I require an explanation.”

“I don’t have one.”

“That is a lie. Your pants will catch fire and then you can use them to help that moron to light the grill.”

They watch for a little longer.

“Fucks sake Steve just go and do it for him. This tastes like paint thinner; I’ll need to eat some bread at some point or I’ll go into kidney failure.”

Steve gets up and lights the grill for Eddie. He’s wearing another butchered tee shirt and some black board shorts. He’s so pale, and all of his bony bits are on show. Elbows. Wrists. Ankles.

His hair is gathered up into a messy bun on top of his head.

He still has a smear of make up on one eyelid where it hasn’t washed off properly.

Steve knows exactly what he sounds like when he comes.

“Thanks man,” Eddie’s blushing. He’s rubbing the back of his neck. It reveals Eddie’s pale ribs. His dark hairy armpit-

Steve runs away before he does something stupid.

“Okay, so, step by step, no gory details please, what exactly happened last night, because I know damn well you didn’t spend the entire forty five minutes I was waiting hanging around in a gross bathroom.”

Steve sighs, rubs his forehead, then goes and gets them both refills.

“Coward,” Robin calls after his retreating back.

He’s refilling their cups with an honest to fucking god soup ladle out of the kitchen – avoiding the fly that has met it’s sticky end in what is, no doubt, highly toxic punch – when it happens.

“Hey man,” Steve is being addressed by an actual pimply teenager.

“Hey.”

“Nice car,” he sounds weirdly angry about it.

“Uhhh...thanks,” because Steve doesn’t know what the fuck else to say to a dude wearing a dungeons and dragons tee shirt over flaming basketball shorts. He has nothing on his feet. Outside. Steve represses a shudder.

“Look, you clearly have money, or whatever, and probably a fancy job and you’re like, forty-”

“Hey-”

“- or whatever, but this thing with Eddie, can you make it fast please? Dragging it out isn’t fair on him.”

Steve blinks. He’s getting a shovel talk from someone who probably doesn’t know what a VHS is.

Steve can remember playing video games with no save; if you were going to do it, you had to play the whole damn thing in one go. Steve didn’t have a mobile phone until he was fifteen. Steve is not going to take this.

“This ‘thing’ I have with Eddie is none of your business. Eddie can speak for himself-”

“No Eddie cannot speak for himself, because Eddie is the nicest guy I know and Eddie already thinks he’s in love. Don’t think I don’t see what this is for you, Eddie’s just another thing to play with until you get bored. Look at this place, look at us. Now look at you and you’re fancy friend over there,” the kid gestures and, yeah, alright, the difference is pretty obvious, “you wouldn’t be caught dead here, slumming it, if you weren't getting something out of it. Now hurry it along, Eddie only writes good stuff when he’s heartbroken. Which is a lot, by the way. We all know how this goes.”

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I just got a shovel talk from a kid who probably shouldn’t even be drinking yet.”

“Ouch,” Robin takes her drink back, “how does that feel?”

Steve shrugs, “not sure, actually.”

Across the yard, Steve watches as Eddie gesticulates wildly and hisses angrily at the pimply face DnDer. He catches Steve watching. Eddie grabs the kid by the arm and drags him away.

“The burgers are burning,” Robin idly points out.

Steve sighs, he loves this polo, grease stains are a bastard, and the chances of finding an apron in this place are none existent.

At least Robin comes with him. She half unwraps some cheese and generally pretends to busy herself, slicing buns and stacking paper plates.

“So, last night?”

“Right,” Steve sighs through his nose, shuffling some onions around on the flat plate. “So I was just going to you know, get him.”

“Get your man tiger,” Robin purrs.

It shouldn’t be funny, but it kind of is. Steve laughs.

“But he just...grabbed my hand. And he said ‘Steve! Come and meet the guys!’ So I...did.”

“He introduced you to his friends,” Robin raises that lethal eyebrow.

“Yeah.”

“And you went along with it?”

“Well I kind of...he didn’t let go of my hand so I kind of…”

Both of Robins eyebrows are now in the stratosphere. She appears to spend a few minutes digesting that, “and then you got invited to...this.”

Steve’s already dug half a hole, and he still apparently has the shovel in his hand, so he keeps going, “he was just so happy to see me,” Steve admits, quietly.

“Who is that?”

“Who?”

Robin grabs Steve by the hair and forcibly turns his whole head, “that.”

There’s a blonde girl talking to Eddie. She’s wearing a white tank top and daisy dukes, “no idea.”

“Come on, high time you introduced me.”

Steve really tries, but he cant hide the fact that he is delighted by this turn of events, “why, Robin Buckley! Oh how the tables have turned-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m going to make her cry.”

Part Five

[daycourtofficial]

Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter 1: The Manuscript

“He thought about how they said-

Since she was wise beyond her years everything had been above board. Now he wasn’t sure…”

series masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance?

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n’s (I’m sorry, I know I’m sick of it too.), fake marriage, possibly eventual smut in later parts we’ll see, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything! And as always, lemme know what you think!

wordcount: 1.3k

“The professor said the write what you know”

Spencer sat at his desk, anxiously scribbling away at a case file that he knew he simply wasn’t ready to hand over just yet. Not ready to let go or say goodbye. The office was deserted with the exception of Emily still fussing around in her office like she always was these days, just like Hotch before her, and Gideon before him. Back in the days when he was the youngest member of the team— god how things had changed.

“Looking backward might be the only way to move forward-”

six months prior:

"Come on, Em. She’s too young. I’d hardly say she has any real-life experience, and as helpful as she’s been, she certainly doesn’t have the field experience. And you want to drop her into an undercover operation at a university thousands of miles away? I just can’t logically wrap my mind around how you think this is our best option,” Spencer sighed, anxiously pacing the length of Emily’s office. Maybe it was the lights, but more likely it was the outlandish plans being laid before him that were bringing on the all-too-familiar throb of a migraine.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at Spencer with a tight-lipped, not-quite smile. “If you would let me finish, I wouldn’t be sending her alone. I’d be sending her with you. The unsub—or rather, unsubs—are targeting couples where the man,” she pointed to him, eyes widening as if to say keep up, “in the relationship comes from a position of power above the woman.” She wildly waved her hand toward the door, motioning to the woman sitting just outside the office.

“You’d be posing as a professor, which technically isn’t anything new for you. Though we might have to rub a little dirt on your good name.” She shrugged, glancing back down to shuffle through the pile of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for, holding it out for Spencer. “A handsome professor and his new, albeit young, ex-TA of a wife... forced to move after your relationship went public. Tragic.” She quirked a brow, offering Spencer a playful smirk. He did not return it, instead rolling his eyes as he thumbed through the file containing what could be his life for the next couple of months.

“Look, if we place you both at the university, she’ll fit in with the students, you’ll fit in with the professors, and now we have eyes and ears everywhere we need them. It’s logical enough, Spencer, and she’s already agreed as long as you’re up for it.”

There was a long pause as Spencer’s mind ran wild, figuring the probability of everything that could and likely would go wrong if he agreed to this plan.

“Look, we’ll even count this towards thirty days of teaching if that sweetens the deal at all?” Prentiss let out an exhausted sigh. Clearly, this was her only option, and everyone else, even the higher-ups, had approved this plan. It all now sat on Spencer’s shoulders. All he needed to do was agree.

“Fine…” he mumbled, his palm digging into his eye socket briefly trying to dull the growing pain behind his eyes. If Prentiss noticed, she chose not to address it. “Great! See, maybe it’ll be good for you? The faculty housing looks nice-ish..? And you’ve gotta admit, Y/N is sweet. I think she’ll learn a lot from you.”

Before Emily could finish her statement, Spencer turned on his heels, stalking out of the Unit Chief's office past the probie, her doe eyes fixed on him like he was a predator. Her gaze startled him in a way that sent him tripping over his own feet. He quickly righted himself, not daring to glance back at the younger agent on his way to the kitchenette.

An hour and several cups of coffee later, Spencer Reid found himself at the round table, sitting perfectly still as his breath caught in his lungs, watching the young woman in front of him sign her name on the dotted line. It’s official; Doctor Spencer Reid is officially a married man—sort of.

It felt so absurd, having to sign a marriage license. Though, logically, he understood. If they were using Spencer’s name and reputation as a backbone for this assignment, there should be a paper trail. At least when it came to this, he knew Penelope could fabricate anything and everything else they might need, but this silly piece of paper, declaring them man and wife—that was free and public information that needed to be real.

“So…” Y/N's voice was soft as it attempted to cut through the heavy weight of the awkward atmosphere. She fidgeted, tapping the pen against the table.

Spencer cleared his throat, eyes raking over her as the voice in his head told him once again that this was an awful idea, that she was too young, that she had no field experience, and there were far too many ways this could all go south. He tried his best to shake them off. “If you don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean this to be rude. I was a young agent—actually one of the youngest agents the BAU has ever had—” he caught himself in his ramble, his eyes searching her face for any kind of discomfort before blinking harder than necessary in an attempt to focus. “Sorry—uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ll be twenty-five in October… so twenty-four.”

"Right..." he chuckled, shaking his head, "that means...w-when you were born I already had two PhDs and was nearly finished with my third."

She groaned, a slight blush covering her cheeks as she fought the embarrassed grin threatening to take over her lips. “Doctor Reid—”

“Spencer.” He cut her off, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I—Uh… you can just call me Spencer. I don’t think couples typically use such formality when they’re addressing each other…”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, offering a little nod. “Spencer,” his name felt too personal on her lips, “I—” a rosy blush creeping up her neck as her mind went completely blank, every thought she’d ever had lost in the warm glow of his golden eyes.

As if on cue, Emily entered the room, a smirk on her lips as she observed the younger, seemingly awestruck agent gawking at her favorite genius. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought these might be useful?” She shrugged, placing a velvet box down beside Spencer before sliding the other across the table to fall into the younger woman’s lap. “Congratulations. I now pronounce you man and wife or whatever they say—beware, Penelope is likely going to throw rice or glitter or whatever she found in her desk at you as you walk out of this room. You’ve been warned. And I’d say kiss the bride, but frankly, I don’t want to see that. Wheels up in thirty.”

With that, she offered the new couple a nod before retreating back out of the conference room, back to her office, leaving them to open the velvet boxes. The rings were simple, nothing too flashy, like something you’d expect a professor to be able to afford without breaking the bank.

“Right…” Spencer said, sliding his own ring onto his finger before rising to his feet, his fingers awkwardly clenching and flexing at the unfamiliar weight. “Maybe if we don’t leave together, Garcia won’t ambush us.” He turned towards the door, hesitating a moment to glance back at the woman he could now call his wife. “Unless—unless you’re ready to go… we could, uh, head out together?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Y/N nodded quickly, jumping to her feet as she organized the pile of papers back into their folders and into her bag. She crossed the room, stopping beside Spencer. She glanced up at him, her own ring feeling heavy on her finger as she hesitantly reached out, offering him her hand. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between her waiting palm and her eyes before reluctantly accepting the offer.

“Shall we, Mrs. Reid?”

“Now and then he re-reads the manuscript. Of the entire torrid affair~”

Chapter II: Guilty as Sin

Thanks for being interested in my silly little concept 🩵

@flowerpott1978 @olives-and-sunshine

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’ve never had a particularly strong desire to get high. Altered mind states have always been somewhat unappealing to me. The only drug I’ve ever enjoyed taking was a prescription strength muscle relaxant that loosened all my knots at once and sent me into the boneless slumber of jello. Top marks.

But I have dabbled with pot. As I’m wildly sensitive to smoke my only recourse was to try edibles and anyone could’ve predicted this was a recipe for disaster. So here’s the story of the first time I got high.

Brendan was a major stoner. He was a high energy guy who loved hiking, had his shit together, and absolutely loved getting high and relaxing. One day he decided to make pot brownies. Brendan was an amazing cook in his own right but he came into my life at a time when I was eating mayonnaise sandwiches and started giving me real food so I viewed him as a paragon of cookery. He made amazing desserts. And he didn’t make a batch of no pot brownies.

I’d never had one of Brendan’s brownies, before, but dear god I wanted one when they came out of the oven in a waft of rich chocolatey smells. They were fudgey and perfect and all that I wanted in the world was to eat one. I watched him take a bite, burning with envy and desire.

Being high seemed like a small price to pay if only I could sink my teeth into the warm splendor of brownie. I came up to where he was sitting on the couch, slightly behind his left shoulder. “Hey. I want to try a bite,” I told him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I was sure as fuck that I wanted that brownie in my mouth.

Brendan was sat facing the tv and held up his hand without looking so I could take a bite. I am not a creature of modest bites. And I wanted that brownie. I took a huge bite, carving into the interior of the brownie, leaving Brendan with a only a rim.

He pulled his hand back and saw the brownie crime I had committed and gave a resigned chuckle. “Well this is going to be fun.”

On one other occasion in my life I’ve tried an edible and there was a brief relaxed period before things went horribly wrong that made me think, this is probably where most people stop and enjoy themselves.

But on this occasion, the massive bite of brownie didn’t drift me slowly up through layers of being high. It skyrocketed me into high space with great prejudice. I have no memory of a middle point, I wasn’t high and then I was suddenly so high I couldn’t function.

I’ve heard people talk about paranoia. I didn’t have that. Some people mention nervousness, no, none of that for me. My mind was simply gone. A thought would blip to life on one side of my brain and fail to travel through the fog to find its conclusion. I couldn’t think. I wasn’t really experiencing sensation. I was nothing in the void.

When Brendan realized I’d been staring wall eyed at nothing for too long he said, “How are you doing?”

It took a long time to process the words and even longer to slur out, “I can see everything.”

I don’t remember him getting up and leaving, or waiting, or anything really. Thoughts flickered and died in my mindscape, meaningless and alone.

Then Brendan put headphones on me.

I was unable to conceive of anything as wonderful as music surrounding me, and thus began the only nice part of the trip. I might have experienced ego death but at least I had the ethereal sounds of Pure Reason Revolution to wrap myself in.

I’m not sure how long the nice phase lasted. But eventually something started going wrong in my mouth. My throat became uncomfortable enough to pierce the haze I was in. It was almost numb, and impossibly dry. I drank water to no avail. Finally I conceived of the solution. “Ice cream!” I demanded of Brendan.

He went to grab some and I was dismayed that when I took a bite the sensation in my throat intensified. “It made it worse,” I complained.

“Made what worse?” Brendan asked, because of course I hadn’t actually told him why I’d wanted ice cream.

When I told him what was happening he said, “Oh, of course ice cream is going to make cotton mouth worse.”

“Well then why did you give it to me!” I complained. He smiled fondly at my irrational grumping and got me more water.

Finally I’d had enough. Music couldn’t erase my discomfort, I was getting frustrated I couldn’t think but I was still high as balls and I wanted the night to be over. Brendan suggested I go to bed so I climbed up into my bed and lay there, uncomfortably high.

I couldn’t sleep. My throat was so cottony, a side effect I hadn’t known existed and I thoroughly loathed.

Then I thought: I could masturbate! Brendan had talked about enjoying that while high. I’d give it a shot. My body however was wiser than my head and was having none of this plan. It refused to respond, stubbornly insisting that now was not the time.

I doubled down, refusing to give up on this horrible idea and in a bitter struggle, and against my body’s own wishes, I produced an orgasm that rated a 0 on the pleasure scale. Something happened but it was like a resentful flex of muscles that stopped immediately.

Furious with the overall experience of being high I buried my head in pillows and finally slept. I told Brendan the next day about my attempt and he facepalmed so hard. “Why didn’t you just go to sleep! You were way too high to enjoy that.”

I grumbled and agreed that it was very stupid. I tried to weigh the single bite of brownie I had with the absolutely wretched hours of discomfort and while it didn’t quite balance it was still pretty close. It was a really good brownie.

[thegettingbyp2]

Request: Coriolanus manipulates unpopular girl into marrying him for her parents money. She finds out that he manipulated her years later. Coriolanus actually started to loves her but the damage is done.

So Much More

A/N: I loved writing this and will probably write a part 2 at some point if people are interested!

Buy me a coffee :)

Even though you were considered to be a part of one of the richest families in The Academy, you were wildly unpopular with your classmates, most probably due to the fact you were so quiet and tended to avoid your other classmates whenever possible. This didn’t seem to deter Coriolanus Snow though.

Much to everyone’s surprise, Coriolanus always seemed to either save you a seat or sit next to you in class and talk to you. Much to your own surprise, this ended up with you dating Coriolanus and him bringing you everywhere with him, constantly wanting to show you off. When he proposed to you in front of the Capitol while he was being sworn in as President, it shocked you. Even though you were completely head over heels for him, there was always that niggling thought in the back of your head that he was with you out of pity.

It wasn’t until 2 years after your wedding when you overheard Coriolanus talking to one of his advisors that you really understood why he was with you.

‘Look, the money from (Y/N)’s parents pulled me and my family out of the gutter, I’m not about to throw her away now. Why do you think I asked her out all those years ago in the first place.’ The involuntary gasp that left your lips had Coriolanus’s head whipping around to face you, his eyes wide when he realised that you must have heard what he’d said.

‘That’s really why you asked me out? Why you married me, to get my parents money?’ you asked, wanting more than anything for him to tell you that you’d heard him wrong.

Coriolanus gestured for his advisor to leave the room as he stood up, making his way across to you. ‘(Y/N), you have to understand, when we met, my family were on the verge of losing everything. Your family helped my family to climb back up, we wouldn’t be where we are now without them.’ He tried to take your hands in his, frowning when you pulled away from him.

‘So, you were using me?’ you asked, your voice breaking slightly as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

Coriolanus sighed heavily, running a hand across his face. ‘At first I was. At first, I thought that dating you would be the perfect way to save my family because I could just leave you straight after.’ You couldn’t help but flinch slightly at his words, a movements that didn’t go unnoticed by Coriolanus as he stepped forward, this time, placing his hands on your hips as his nose brushed against your hairline. ‘But then, the longer we were together, the more reasons I’d found to not break up with you because I found myself falling in love with you.’

‘That doesn’t excuse the fact that you were using me, Coryo,’ you whispered brokenly, your hands coming to rest on his that were still on your hips. ‘I was madly in love with you from day one, it took me months to accept the fact that you felt the same way, so finding out that you were lying the whole time - ’

‘I do feel that way now, baby. That’s the point I’m trying to make,’ he interrupted you, his fingers squeezing tighter onto your hips. ‘I was desperate, I would have done pretty much anything to save face. When we were at The Academy, I didn’t think you meant anything, but you mean so much more to me than I ever thought possible.’

As he was speaking, you felt tears pool in your eyes as you were hit by a wave of conflicting emotions, your love for him and the betrayal you were feeling being the main two at war inside you.

‘I just don’t think that I can carry on being married to you, knowing all of this, I don’t know if I can trust you anymore,’ you said quietly, letting your tears fall in streams down your cheeks.

‘Don’t say that,’ Coriolanus said, his voice almost sounding like he was begging as his voice cracked. He leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, only for you to turn your head at the last minute, his lips grazing your cheek. A single tear traced down his cheek. In all the years you’d known him, you’d never seen him lose his composure like this, even when he was caught out for cheating while he was mentoring Lucy Gray in the 10th Hunger Games. Seeing him like this was making you want to pull him into you and tell him that you loved him and you forgave him, but deep down, you knew that whatever relationship the two of you had was pretty much damaged beyond repair.

‘I should probably go. We can talk more about this when I’ve had time to think,’ you said, trying to free yourself from his grip.

It was as if your words had caused a flip to switch in Coriolanus as you watched his body stiffen and his eyes instantly grow colder. His grip on you tightened even more to an extent that you knew that you were 100% going to have bruises from where his fingers dug into your skin painfully.

‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said in a cold, almost lifeless tone.

[gorae]

feeling better now?

pairing — sim jaeyun x gn!reader

tags — fluff, reader has a nephew and they are babysitting him together, jake gets jealous over a toddler, established relationship, a lot of kissing!, 1.1k words, unedited

“do you think he’s trying to say my name?” jake asks.

you shrug. “i’m not sure.” an amused smile forms on your lips as you watch the toddler try to climb up your lap.

the toddler, leo, is your cousin’s son, whom you’ve been entrusted by your cousin to babysit. the one-year-old has been incoherently babbling non-stop for the last few minutes, while jake, your beloved boyfriend, has been trying to decipher his words as he does so. “are you saying jake, leo? can you say jake?” you ask sweetly.

leo looks up at you when he realizes the question is directed at him. his big, brown, doe eyes bore into yours as a beat of silence passes. then he blinks once and continues on prattling.

jake frowns at him. “how about y/n? can you say y/n?” he prompts.

“y/n!” leo exclaims, throwing his chubby arms up and grinning wildly. you and jake panic for a moment when he stumbles, your arms getting thrown out in all directions to block his fall. leo only giggles when you barely catch him before he falls backward, while you and jake both simultaneously let out a relieved sigh.

while adorning a smile that puts his dimples on display, leo blinks up at you innocently. your heart melts at the sight, and with a single swoop, you bring leo into your arms and trap him in a hug. “gotcha!” you exclaim, which prompts him to giggle wildly.

the doorbell rings, “i’ll get it,” jake announces before rushing to open the door.

leo grabs onto your clothes as he makes an attempt to stand on his own. “that’s probably your mama, leo! you wanna see mama?” you ask, still keeping your hands near him in case he stumbles again.

his eyes sparkle excitedly. “mama!”

you smile at him and take that as your cue to pick him up and follow jake to the door. reaching the doorway, you see jake opening the door to reveal your cousin. “leo!” she grins, waving at her son.

leo mirrors her, grinning as he makes grabby arms at her. you make haste to pass him to your cousin, who immediately takes him in his arms. “i missed you, angel.”

you stand beside jake, letting him rest his hand on your waist as both of you watch leo nuzzle his small face into his mother’s neck. “thanks for watching him, you two,” says your cousin, returning her attention back to you and jake.

“it’s no big deal. we loved having him here. right, jake?”

jake nods, his hair bouncing as he does.

“we better go and get you,” your cousin pokes leo’s belly, evoking a laugh from him, “home now. you wanna kiss them goodbye, leo?”

without a verbal answer, leo leans forward clumsily, and you push jake a little to signal for him to lean down. jake grins when his tiny lips successfully land on one of his cheeks, muttering a quick “bye, leo” when the toddler pulls away.

leo doesn’t wait for a second longer before he starts leaning toward your direction, so you quickly steer your own head to make it easier for him. you’re unable to hold back a smile when leo successfully kisses your cheek, warming your heart in effect. you return the favor, kissing him on his cheek. leo shrieks happily, arms reaching up to touch his face. you laugh softly at his reaction.

“alright. thanks again, you two.” your cousin smiles. leo parrots his mom, waving his arm around in an attempt to wave goodbye. there is another round of goodbyes that ensued before they finally get in their car.

as you close the front door behind you, you notice jake’s unusually quiet disposition. you glance at him, only to spot a slight pout in his lips. “jake,” you call out. “what’s wrong?”

“huh?” he faces you. “nothing.”

“you’re quiet. something’s wrong.”

“nothing’s wrong.”

the moment you get near him, he lets you wrap your hands around his forearms. you search his face for any clues but he doesn’t let up. his plump lips are pursed while his dark brown eyes continue to waver and wander everywhere else but you. “come on, tell me.”

he finally lets his eyes meet yours. “promise me you won’t laugh.”

you free a hand to reach up and brush away the hair that was partly covering his eyes. “i promise.”

jake purses his lips again. “you’ve been giving him more attention than me.”

you cock your head to the side. “who?”

“leo.”

once you hear your nephew’s name tumble out of jake’s pouty lips, you laugh. however, when the corner of your boyfriend’s lips start to tug into a frown, you’re quick choke it back and fake a few coughs in an attempt to cover it up.

“you said you wouldn’t laugh!” jake whines. he squirms and tries to move away from you but your tender hands keep him in his place.

“you got jealous over a toddler?”

jake hates how you’re grinning mockingly. he wishes he could take his words back. but it’s true. you’ve been spending most of the day looking after leo, and had barely batted an eye about him. “i know it’s stupid-”

“it’s not stupid.” you grin, hands traveling up and down his forearms in an attempt to soothe his grumpiness. “it’s cute.”

jake huffs. clearly your attempt did not work. “stop lying. you’re holding back a laugh right now.”

you are still grinning. now you’re grinning at the sight of jake’s ears turning red. “because it’s cute,” you say, in a-matter-of-fact way. “you’re cute.”

his bottom lip was about to jut out when you lean in to quickly peck his lips. it’s astounding — how after all this time of dating him, you still manage to catch jake off-guard.

as you pull away, jake catches you smiling amusedly. he is immediately brought back to his feelings of childish envy towards his girlfriend’s nephew. “again,” he demands, with the pout back on his lips.

you shake your head, chuckling before you bring him in for another kiss.

and then another.

and then another one for good measure.

but to jake’s dismay, the kisses stop.

“feeling better now?” you tease.

he hums, dazed eyes still trained on your lips. “one more.”

his resolute answer and the finality of his tone, and of course, along with the undeniable attractive force between your lips, causes you to crash your lips into his again. this time, it was far from fleeting. jake has his hands firmly on your lips while yours are tousling the back of his hair. your lips move together in a slow rhythm, one that makes it harder for you to pull away. and when you do, you’re breathless.

“definitely better now.”

you laugh, both at his words and at the sight of his swollen lips. and then you kiss him again.

“okay,” jake says, in between kisses, “be honest now, it was stupid wasn’t it?”

“maybe a little.”

[pinkanonwrites]

The Immensity of Vacancy

Energon Universe Jetfire/Human Reader, +1200 words

Just a little bittersweet something I wrote after the last issue of the Skybound comics came out. Jetfire my sweet, you did not deserve your fate.

ENERGON UNIVERSE COMIC SPOILERS AHEAD.

It was curious how even the most harrowing of circumstance could, with enough time and enough patience, shear down its jagged edges until it became something nearly palatable. 

Not comfortable. Primus, no, never comfortable. But palatable.

Stars no longer graced Jetfire’s curious optics, all light snuffed in favor of an inky nothingness soothed only by memory. There could be no ache of stasis lock when the freedom of movement had been ripped from his frame entirely, left to the whims of his fellow Cybertronians. The breems of silence would stretch into cycles, tuning his remaining audials ever finer upon the low thrum of Teletraan, the rattle-step of Autobots passing through corridors below. 

Perhaps that was why he could always hear you coming.

Your footsteps didn't boom or echo like those of Optimus Prime, never accompanied with the screech of tires like Arcee or Cliffjumper. Instead came the soft tink tink tink of tiny, booted feet against the resonant floor, the jangle of metallic jibbitz swinging from a clip on your belt. ‘Keys’ you had called them, though they were nothing like the data-keys or passcodes more familiar to him. ‘One for my car, one for my house, one for the back door at work.’ Primitive, but undeniably clever. 

You always paused in the doorway of the hangar when you approached, a brief instance of silence. Perhaps you were waiting for a transformation from him, a flourish of panels shifting and plates fluttering into place to reveal his root mode, his towering form compared to your own tiny one. You knew as well as he did that idea was an impossibility, but you paused nonetheless.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

Jetfire spent much time in recharge nowadays, the only respite from the insurmountable emptiness that surrounded him that remained in his control. It was another consistency from you, willing to let him rest for untold lengths of time, as if your own presence was not wildly preferred.

“Yes. For quite a while now.”

You let out a soft, sad sounding hum. “I’m sorry I couldn't get here earlier.”

“That's alright. I’m sure you have much of your own work to attend to.”

“Maybe, but it's not really anything exciting.” He could hear the shuffle and thunk of your backpack hitting the metal landing bay, the pull of the zipper. When you settled in your spot on the floor and leaned back against his landing gear, heat radiated through the space where your back pressed to his cool plating. “Work, mostly. Had a late shift last night, so I ran to the library this morning instead. The librarian actually recognized me.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, I just didn't expect it. I never went there until recently, anyway. Guess now that I’m going in a couple days a week I’m becoming a regular. Imagine that.”

Jetfire let out a soft hum. “We’ll never be wanting for reading material then.”

You seemed to hesitate for a moment as you removed something from your bag, the flutter of paper against your fingertips tickling his audials.

“I brought a new book. ‘The War Of The Worlds’. It’s an old sci-fi classic.” You softly fanned through the pages again. “It’s about, um… It’s about aliens. That come to take over Earth. It was probably a stupid choice, we can read something different if you want.”

He could understand your hesitation. Though Jetfire had not spent long interacting with the local lifeforms of your planet, he’d heard more than enough from the other Autobots about the occurrences at the power plant; The terror, the violence. The story of a hostile occupation from beings infinitely more powerful and dangerous than the planet’s inhabitants could strike offensive if presented in the wrong way, to the wrong bot. And yet…

“I would like to hear it.”

He couldn’t help that part of himself that yearned to understand. To learn. How often would he get the chance to hear the perspective of another species, better yet from the species themselves? Considering his current state, likely never again.

“Are you sure? It doesn’t have to be this, I brought other books. To Kill A Mockingbird, Treasure Island, maybe some Shakespeare-?”

“No, I… I want to hear it. I’d like to understand.”

You hesitated further still, as if you were waiting for Jetfire to change his mind. Then you let out a small, huffy noise, like you were trying to clear your vents. Jetfire recognized the sound to be what you’d called a “sniffle”. Paper shuffled, you let out a low, steadying sigh, and began to read.

“No one would have believed in the last years of the nineteenth century that this world was being watched keenly and closely by intelligences greater than man’s and yet as mortal as his own…”

You were a delightful narrator, though you’d often brush off Jetfire’s compliments as to the former. ‘You should hear David Attenborough!’ you’d reply, though Jetfire had no idea who this apparent man was. Your cadence and accent would adjust slightly when switching characters, like you were putting on a play. The first descriptions of the alien conquerors were read with a faux suspense, as if you could scare the Cybertronian with narration alone. And yet, when you came upon the paragraph describing the first human deaths, there did your energy began to falter. You shifted against his landing gear, swallowing thickly as you described the heat ray that jumped from man to man, ‘...as if each man were suddenly and momentarily turned to fire.’ Your hesitance didn’t seem to stem from the words themselves, but the context in who you were reading them to. Did the recent Decepticon attack on the hospital strike as close to home mentally as it did physically?

You paused again at the end of the chapter. Usually here Jetfire would have rattled off the questions he’d saved while you were reading, foreign concepts and names of unknown locations and the intricacies of human interaction that he didn’t quite comprehend. But he found himself in silence here as well. Not stunned, not scared, merely… contemplative.

“Sorry. It’s not too late to read something else, you know. Treasure Island’s still on the docket.” You murmured, fingers tapping absentmindedly along the book’s spine. 

“There’s no need to apologize. Already it’s a fascinating tale.” He paused for a moment, mulling over his words. The question he was about to ask seemed painfully obvious. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave it unsaid. “Are all humans this afraid of… aliens?”

‘Will all humans be this afraid of us?’ He did not ask.

“I think…” You hummed, head thunking back against his landing gear plating. “I think that most humans are afraid of the unknown. The idea that there’s something out there we can’t understand. We don’t like being reminded that we aren’t actually in control. That at any point in time we could die.”

Jetfire thought back to Cybertron- the expeditions failed, the cities razed, the lives lost- and he understood the sentiment exactly. 

“Would it comfort you to know that the experience isn’t uniquely human?” 

You barked out a short laugh. “A little, actually.”

Jetfire had spent so much of his life in the cold. The cold of space. The cold of the ice. The cold of the silent, empty hangar. But here, in this moment, with your body pressed to his plating, your voice filling the blackness, he felt inexplicably warm. 

“I’d still like to hear more, if you would continue.”

Though Jetfire could not see your smile, it was more than enough to hear it in your voice.

“Sure thing, big guy.”

[danikamariewrites]

can i request a fic with batboys x reader, they’re on a mission in the illyrian steppes and she overhears a few females at the illyrian camps gossip about her having three mates, they call her horrivle names and reader gets really insecure. her mates find out and confront the females, plot twist apparently it’s on of cassians exlovers who is jealous👀👀👀

Jealousy Is A Bad Look

Poly!batboys x reader

A/n: I love jealous bat boys so this is feeding my obsession with them

Warnings: bullying and name calling

As you walked back through the market you took in the Illyrians mingling and working. You wanted to keep yourself busy while your mates are in their meeting. Spotting a stand with wildflowers you stop to inspect them. You smile as you see your favorites and ask the female to make a bouquet for you.

While you wait you look around at the other vendors. You might sound crazy if you ever voiced this to your mates, but you loved being in the mountains at the start of winter. The snow fell in flurries that wrapped around you. The air is cold and crisp, fresher than in Velaris.

A horrifying cackle sounds from behind you from the midst of a group of females spreading camp gossip. The one that cackled noticed you and gasped. You were quite noticable up here since you didn't have wings.

"That's her." She whispered very, very loudly. "Our new High Lady apparently. Perfect y/n over there is mated to the High Lord and the other two bastard brutes." Her tone was condescending and taunting which you had no patience for.

You scowled at the group. One of the females' cheeks turned crimson from your attention as she looked back at her friends murmuring some insult probably.

The main one, you think her name is Myla, kept throwing insult after insult at you. Spreading rumors to her friends and hoping the whole camp will hear. "I think she's just a gold-digging whore. Not Cassian's type. But I can't say anything for the other two."

The florist hands you the bouquet, you snatch it and stuff it into your basket. You quickly head for the path back to the cabin, practically stomping your feet.

You were fuming. How dare she say those things about you! And your mates! And how would she know what Cassian likes? Myla definitely isn't something Cassian would like.

Before you knew it you were back at the cabin. You flung the door open and dropped the basket by the front door, marching yourself over to an armchair. Plopping down you sink back into the oversized piece of furniture crossing your arms. You face the fireplace huffing.

Going over Myla's words again and again you start to swing your feet. You take deep breathes reminding yourself that she isn't the first person to judge you and your relationship, and she won't be the last.

You hear three sets of wings flapping wildly, three sets of feet landing hard on the frozen ground just outside the front door. Rhys flung the door open, Cassian and Azriel trying to push in behind him. "Darling we felt you down the bond. What's wrong? Are you alright?" You didn’t realize that you had been projecting your feelings.

Rhys and Cassian kneel in front of you while Azriel stands next to you, gently rubbing at your shoulders. Worry clear in their faces. You take in each of them letting out a deep sigh. “Did someone hurt you?” Azriel practically growled out.

You shake your head no. “No, no. Just some females talking about me and our relationship.” They all seem to tense at that. Rhys takes your hands in his large ones. “What did they say?”

“That it this isn’t real. And they don’t understand how you picked me, that I’m a gold-digging whore and all that.” You could feel the anger rolling off them, Cassian especially. “Sweetheart, who said this?” Taking another deep breath you close your eyes and exhale.

You didn’t want this to cause any problems. But if you don’t tell them it will eat at you and them. “Myla.” Cassian shoots up so fast Azriel has to grip his shoulder to keep him in place. Rhys stands trying to calm him. “Don’t do anything rash Cass. If you do something it won’t end well.”

Your eyes dart between the three of them. Your mind is racing about what the silent conversation between them is. Cassian was clearly fuming and wasn’t calming down until you say something. “Cass,” you whisper, “look at me.” You stand pulling him into the chair, placing yourself on his lap. Wrapping your arms around his wide shoulders you place your face in his neck.

Cassian relaxed under your touch and he pulls you in tighter. “It’s ok Cass. It’s not a big deal.” He sighs through his nose. Cassian looks at Rhys and Az, fury swirling in his hazel eyes.

The next afternoon you accompanied them to a meeting including the other leaders and higher-ups of the camp. You spotted Lord Devlon speaking with another male in similar Illyrian leathers. You stop thinking about the male and take your seat between Rhys and Cassian. Reaching under the table you give Cassian’s hand a loving squeeze with a small smile which he returns.

Facing the room your eyes go wide as you watch Myla stride over to Devlon and the other male. You hear the male introduce her as his daughter. You look at Cassian, his face set in anger. “Anything else you want to tell me about her?” You whisper. “She’s my ex.” He bites out. Your eyes go wide at the confession.

You feel Rhys gently caress your mind, “She means nothing to him. Remember he’s with you, we’re with you. She was always jealous she couldn’t have Cassian and now you do. Hell, you have all three of us.” He breathes out a laugh.

Rhys is right. The Mother matched you with the three of them. You didn’t need to angry with her. Honestly now you just wanted to make her jealous. You give Rhys a quick peck on his cheek, then wave Azriel down from his standing position behind you and kiss him as well. At this point everyone is seated as you turn to Cassian.

You can feel Myla’s eyes on you. You catch her unpleasant face out of the corner of your eye and smirk. Placing your hand on the back of his neck you pull him into you, giving him a deep quick kiss. After you break apart Cass smirks. Myla dramatically groans standing from the table. She rushes out the door and slams it behind her.

Azriel hides his laugh behind a cough. Rhys clears his throat, “Well, now that that’s done with shall get started?”

tags: @rigelus @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

[queenofmistresses]

Hi!

If you haven't already written one x fem!reader fic with Colin with the "I miss you" scene from one of the teasers, could you do one then and have him call on her in a few days groveling or smth like that.

Anyway, no pressure to write it

A/N i’ve been fantasising about this since the teaser came out, absolutely I will write this thank you very much for the request!!

Spiteful

“The truth is, I miss you y/n.” He says, towering over me, it makes me scoff and roll my eyes. In truth, there is a part of me that wants to just give in and forget what happened, but the bigger -and more spiteful- part of me isn’t going to let that happen.

“You miss me but you would not court me is that correct?” I snap back, watching as it takes him by surprise and he looks at me confused. “I heard you at the end of last season, at my mama’s ball, saying you would never court Y/F/N.” Now he looks regretful but I’m taking none of it, I’ve had enough of being treated this way by him and the rest of the ton. “I am the laughing stock of entire ton no matter what lengths I take, it just never occurred to me that you, of all people, could be so cruel.” I practically snarl, something I never thought I was capable of, before turning and walking off to my carriage to take me back home.

I spent the next day as expected, waiting around for all of zero suitors to call on me. This season is shaping up to be just as the last, no prospects whatsoever. Looks like I will be a spinster as Cressida always said. I really had hoped to prove her wrong.

I didn’t even bother preparing myself for a potential suitor calling on me the day after, I knew it was pointless. I saw the lines of men pouring out of the houses surrounding mine, the most exciting part of my day was when breakfast was served. What? We have a great cook.

It’s the late afternoon now and I’m playing a game of chess with my papa, I’ve much improved recently and it looks like I might even win this time. Then I’m told I have a visitor, and my mama gets much too overexcited. I insist it is probably just a friend, a suitor would not come this late in the day surely?

Colin Bridgerton. Stood in my hall, looking like a puppy that’s been kicked rather brutally. Perhaps he feels like he has. He asks to take me to promenade and insists that he has brought his own chaperone. Honestly I think he’s acting rather strange. He had his opportunity to stop playing the pitying friend so why didn’t he take it? Why is he here?

He leads me to his carriage and, the gentleman he is, helps me inside. When we’re in the carriage I quickly realise that there is no chaperone. “I know how this looks but I swear I mean nothing untoward.” I level him with a glare, waiting for some kind of explanation for hiding wildly inappropriate behaviour. “I needed to talk to you in private and this was the only way. I- I need to apologise. I was wrong at your mama’s ball, I shouldn’t have been so cruel. It was unfair and- and it wasn’t because I think badly of you.” I raise an eyebrow, wanting to interrupt his ramblings but allowing him to continue. “I spent all of yesterday pacing around trying to figure out why I did it, why did I act that rash and respond the way I did. And I figured it out!” He looks at me almost excitedly. I gesture for him to continue.

“Go on then, why did you say what you did?” I ask flatly.

“Because they were right! Or at least I wanted them to be. Y/n I would be lucky if you allowed me to court you, I just had no idea that that was even what I wanted. The whole summer I was away I was consumed with thoughts of you. Every letter I wrote to you I prayed that you would respond, every day I didn’t receive a letter from you my heart would ache, and I had no idea as to why. Why it felt as though my very soul was missing you, needing you. I tried to ignore it, convincing myself I was merely homesick.” He scoffs at himself, he’s so far forward he’s barely on his seat anymore. “I have never wished to be home the way I have wished to be with you. You took over every part of my life, so much so it was inescapable, and truly, it became addictive.” He stares me dead in the eyes now and takes my hands in his. When did I stop breathing? “I know I have been cruel, I know I am not deserving of your forgiveness, let alone your love, but I beg you. I beg you take pity on me, let me try to make it up to you. I would give you the world if you asked for it, I would grovel at your feet in front of the entire ton if that is what you wished, you’ve become my reason to breathe, my reason to live, my everything. I could not carry on knowing I had hurt you so without paying penance for what I’ve done. Please, allow me to make it up to you.”

A pull in what air I can manage, trying to stop the tears streaming down my eyes. Even the most spiteful parts of my mind do not speak. Only a small part of my mind, one I have pressed down for many a year now whispers, ‘kiss him’. But I won’t, I won’t take that risk. What I do do though, is squeeze his hands gently. I try to muster up some kind of coherent sentence but I don’t think anyone could after that. I nod. “Okay.” He looks almost shocked, as if he didn’t just recite the most beautiful love confession I’ve ever heard to me. “Just, take it slow, okay?” I manage to get out.

He laughs, triumphantly, and squeezes my hand even tighter, thanking me far too much and swearing he will be the best suitor ever known. I believe him.

He does take me promenading, his mama chaperoning. It’s one of the nicest days I have. Now a part of me is really glad that the spiteful part of my mind couldn’t let it go.

[moghedien]

Shadowheart navigating being a cleric of Selune post game has to be like…the funniest thing to behold

Because she has a few options:

1) just don’t ever do any cleric stuff outside of her little farmhouse cottage and don’t worry about it

2) do cleric stuff but lie and pretend that she definitely knows what she’s doing and wasn’t a Sharran like a week ago

3) do cleric stuff and be honest about being a Sharran a week ago

And like any of those options are potentially hilarious l because if she like actually pursues doing Selunite cleric stuff, she has basically no history and is just popping up out of no where. The cleric and paladin that converted her have been dead/presumed dead for a century. They have no current religious community (the last one they had was forcibly converted to Shar and destroyed) and might actually have reasons to not want to get immediately caught up in one. The likelihood that they would be able to point Shadowheart at any kind of like help or resources is slim as they’d probably be fumbling in the dark with only slightly more context than her about the current state of Selunites

Like literally the only thing that would make any of this easier for them is that Aylin is literally Selune’s daughter and can probably prove that though she seemed to have some issues she needed to discuss with her mommy at the end of her questline so maybe not, and all of that is even assuming Shadowheart goes to Isobel and Aylin for help/direction

So you potentially have Shadowheart stumbling her way into congregations either like “hello fellow Selunites. I too love the moonwitch I mean moonmaiden” or you have her being like “hello I used to follow Shar but I failed at becoming a dark justiciar and now I’m going to follow Selune look I dyed my hair and everything”

Like either she tries to not bring up Shar and pretend she converted randomly or some other way and it immediately becomes clear that she somehow converted and became a cleric knowing very little about Selune and Selunite rituals/practices yet has a lot of preconceived ideas about Selune that are probably wildly wrong even when she’s trying not to be hostile to Selune anymore, and thus immediately becomes suspicious

Or she’s honest about being formerly Sharran and immediately seems suspicious and off because of that as she has to try to explain her life story that she does not remember and how she converted because she met a hot buff lesbian tied up in a magic circle who was a real demigod and it’s not weird that she converted on the spot, she swears! Anyway can someone teach her like the basic beliefs of being a Selunite? The buff lesbian wouldn’t stop fucking her wife long enough to teach her.

But then the more likely option of her just not even trying to deal with the clericy activities of being a cleric and she just minds her own business collecting baby animals and taking care of her family. Which is like a slow burn in its humor potential because presumably she’s not gonna live in the literally middle of no where and there will eventually be neighbors and some kind of community she’s part of, and she’s just becomes known as the nice little half elf girl who loves animals and just takes care of her aging parents, who are devoted Selunites. And her having healing abilities would probably come up, because that’s a useful skill to have, especially in a small community, and healing magic plus Selunite parents would eventually cause people to put two and two together even if she didn’t advertise it. And you know that would lead to more questions about why she doesn’t advertise it and why she doesn’t do any Selunite practices for the community and you know she actually doesn’t seem to know a lot of stuff that other clerics of Selune do/teach, why would that be when she’s clearly a powerful cleric and has a devote family. And also what’s up with that big ass wound on her hand that’s flaring up all the time? Also it’s all very suspicious especially since they all just came from no where one day.

And you know that eventually it would lead to a point where Shadowheart and/or her dad would have to just be like “ok so what happened was…”

[momolady]

Harvey the Orc: Part Two

Orc - Neighbors - Haunted House? - Friends to Lovers - Unrequited Crush Female Reader x Male Monster Part One

Something upstairs fell, and there was a loud noise. You furrowed your brow and listened closer. There was a rapping above, like someone tapping their fingers over and over against the floor. You stood up, put on a hoodie over your pajamas left your apartment, and ,walked directly to Harvey’s.

He answered his door, looking a bit disheveled. “What’s wrong? Did your closet collapse again?”

You pointed up. “I think something is wrong with Mrs. Gilbert.”

Harvey furrowed his brow and rubbed his eyes. “Well, shit, let's go see.”

You both took to the stairs, ran up them, and went to Mrs. Gilbert’s door. You knocked at first but heard no reply.

“Mrs. Gilbert?” You called out, knocking while you did. “Mrs. Gilbert, are you okay in there? I heard a loud noise.”

You heard something that sounded like crying from inside and you looked to Harvey in distress. You tried the doorknob, but the door was locked.

Harvey put his arm across you and moved you aside. “Stand back.” He reared back a bit and by this time the other neighbors had come out to see what the ruckus was about, Harvey rammed his shoulder into the door, and luckily the old lock broke with ease, the door swinging open wildly from the sheer brute force..

You rushed inside, finding Mrs. Gilbert on the floor. The neighbors called paramedics while you and Harvey tended to Mrs. Gilbert in the meantime.

Eventually, Mrs. Gilbert was taken away and her family was contacted. You and Harvey sat at the bottom of the stairs near your apartments, winding down from the events.

“Well,” Harvey huffed.

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Harvey turned to look at you. “Glad you heard that. You saved her.”

You tucked your hands into your sleeves, curling the sleeve inward so your entire hand was encapsulated. “I just feel exhausted now. It’s been a day.”

Harvey put his arm around you, letting you rest your head upon him. It felt nice, it felt warm. You closed your eyes for a second, letting yourself drift away into his embrace and the scent of his soap. He rubbed your arm gently then sighed.

“You’re probably tired.” You sat up and quickly adjusted yourself. “I don’t want to keep you up or anything.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve had a tougher day than I have,” he chuckled. “Haunted closet, falling neighbors, I feel like if I leave you alone something else would happen.”

‘Something would probably happen if the two of us were alone together.’ a thought spoke up in your mind. You shook it away, but your face blushed nonetheless.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine. What else could possibly happen?”

Harvey knocked his knuckles upon the stair you sat on. “Knock on wood, be careful what you say. This building can hear you.”

You smirked. “Right. Right.” You stood up with Harvey, feeling very close to him all of a sudden. You looked up at him, enjoying the way you had to tilt your head up to do so. A lump formed in your throat as you gazed up at him, the idea of being alone with him was very, very appealing, especially after the day you had been through.

Despite your best efforts, your mind wandered a bit as you imagined what could possibly happen. Snuggling on the couch. Cautious hand placements. Curious glances. Oh and what if there was kissing? What if the kissing leads to something else? What if something else went on until morning?

“Well, good night then,” Harvey yawned.

Your thoughts snapped like a rubber band and struck you right in the face. You nodded to Harvey. “Yeah! Pray nothing else happens to me,” you laughed. “Good night, Harvey.”

You turned back into your apartment, hitting your head against the door in frustration. “Coward. Chicken!” You fussed at yourself. “You work yourself up like that, of course, you’re gonna fuck yourself over. Come on!” You went to the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and cracked it open.

After a few deep drinks from the bottle, you sighed heavily. “As if I’d know what to do with him once I got him.” You pulled your hand out from the sleeve and looked it over. “Bet he’s pretty big.” You thought about how tall Harvey was, how big his hands were, how thick his thighs were. Your face grew warm as you imagined him stripping off his clothes, his shirt tugging over his belly, his chest, the curls that coated him. His fingers then nimbly undid his pants, revealing the bulge growing in his underwear.

‘I bet he wears black boxer briefs,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Just a little support is all he likes.’ You bit your lip, laughing at your own ridiculous thought. “Still though-” Your mind continued watching him undress, tugging down his underwear to reveal to you what was hidden beneath.

“Green eggplant,” you murmured dreamily. You put your hand between your thighs, squeezing around it as you took another drink of cold water.

There was a knock on your door and you quickly yanked your intruding hand out. You panicked for a second, then went to the door and cleared your throat. “Who goes there?”

“Sorry, it’s me,” Harvey sounded despondent.

You opened the door and looked him over. “You okay?”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Something is up with my water. I saw your light was still on, so  I figured I would check yours.”

“Oh, sure.” You went into the kitchen and turned on the sink. “What’s going on with your water?”

“It won’t get hot, so I can’t get a shower.”

You wanted to laugh. “Oh thank goodness, it's your turn, it's off me.” You ran your hand under the water. “Mine is getting warm. Why don’t you grab a shower here then?”

Harvey sighed. “You don’t mind?”

Finish the story for free on my Patreon!

[eddies-puppet]

You Gave Me Our World

(Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Just a little Valentines blurb to try and get myself writing again 💜

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff with a decent serving of angst. No REAL smut but allusions to it. Mentions of Eddie’s mom, Eddie being insecure.

Notes: Sorry if this sucks, just trying to get rid of my writers block!

———————————————————

Heaven. That’s where I am right now.

Wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, bodies tangled between the bedsheets as the rain pattered lightly on the roof of the trailer where Eddie and I live together. My head lay on his chest, his heart beating hard against my ear as he came back down to earth after the throes of ecstacy we’d both been in a few moments ago. The arm that wasn’t around me was bent up beneath his head.

“You still with me baby?” Eddie asked softly, his fingertips dragging lightly against the soft skin of my back.

“Mmm, still here,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper as I trailed my nails gently across his tummy, smiling as I felt his muscles react involuntarily. It was his most ticklish spot.

Sighing deeply, I pressed a soft kiss to his tattooed chest. “Can we stay here forever?”

“That sounds really good,” he chuckled.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his heart beating steadily soothing me, sleep trying (unsuccessfully) to overwhelm me.

Life had gotten real busy lately, meaning that I valued these moments so much more. The moments of quiet, when it’s just the two if us, the noise of the outside world just fading away.

Just us. Me and him. All I needed in life.

When Eddie and I had first got together, everyone told me to run. That trouble followed him, that he wasn’t the ‘type of boy’ I should be with.

But I knew the other side of Eddie Munson. Kind, goofy, made me laugh until I cried. That was my Eddie.

His hand had worked its way up my back, now gently running his fingers through my hair. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I’m sure there were probably hearts in my eyes if you looked hard enough!

He was miles away though, deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him. His eyes dropped to mine, the sadness in his eyes evident despite the darkness of the room. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing baby, I’m good,” he smiled unconvincingly.

“Don’t try and bullshit me Munson, I know you better than that.” He sighed heavily, his eyes going back to the ceiling.

“I don’t know, I just…” he hesitated. “You deserve better.”

“Better than what?” I asked him, my voice unable to hide the concern.

“This,” he said frustratedly, the hand that had been behind his head now gesturing wildly around the room. “It’s Valentine’s Day for fuck sake! You should be at that new expensive hotel in the city, or Enzos at the very least. Instead you’re eating takeout pizza under two blankets ‘cos we can’t afford extra on the utilities!”

“Hey, the sex warmed me up at least,” I giggled, regretting it instantly when his sad eyes met mine once again. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” I whispered, my hand moving to his face. “Eddie, I don’t give a shit about expensive dinners, or how many blankets we have to use,” I promised him, his breath shaking as he exhaled, my thumb gently stroked his cheek.

“Baby, this isn’t the life you were born in to. You should be living in a big house, with a white picket fence and a swing on the porch.”

“You’re right, it’s not the life I was born in to. But it’s the life I chose,” I assured him. “Eds, I know you sometimes find it hard to believe, but I love you. The rest of it doesn’t matter. It’s all just background noise.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him, his dark eyes sparkling, his dark curls fanning out across the pillow. “Look at you,” I whispered. “Beautiful.”

In spite of himself, he smiled back at me.

I leant down, my fingers burying themselves in his hair as our lips met. I kissed him gently, his breath tickling my cheek as he slowly exhaled through his nose.

“I love you. So much,” I told him again, resting my forehead against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I just wish I could give you the world.”

“You’ve given me our world, that’s all I need,” I smiled before laying back down.

As I snuggled back in to his chest, I reached for his hand, which was laying on his stomach. As my fingers traced the veins on his hand, the cold metal of his ring caught me off guard.

You would think with them being worn all the time they would warm up. Perhaps it was just the stark contrast from his hot skin.

Eddie Munson was always warm, even in the middle of a snowstorm. He was great to be around in the winter, stifling in the heat of the Indiana summer.

My fingers played absentmindedly with the cold metal, the large black stone smooth to touch as I lost myself in his warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the gentleness of his other hand soothing up and down my back.

He rolled over to face me, his arms encircling me, pulling me flush against him.

“There is one thing that I can give you,” he said softly. “That I want to give you.”

I could feel his hands fidgeting behind my back, not unusual for Eddie, but when he bought his hand between us and opened his hand, he held his ring. The same one I had been playing with a few moments ago. The one that had belonged to his mother before she died.

I shook my head as he held it out to me.

“I can’t take that,” I whispered.

“I want you to have it,” he said insistently.

I hesitated, freezing in place, my head empty. I obviously paused for too long.

“She’d have loved you, you know,” he smiled, his eyes glistening suddenly with unshed tears.

“Baby, I cannot take this. It means too much to you.”

“So do you,” he smiled. “Look, are you planning on running out on me?” He beamed, the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks making you smile again.

“No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” I grinned, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“Then you’re not taking it. Look at it as a loaner until Corroded Coffin hit the big time and I can afford to replace it with a diamond the size of Hawkins,” he laughed as he took my hand and gently slid the ring on to my finger.

“See?” He grinned as he looked at my hand. “Fits you better than me anyway.” He lifted my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss where his ring now sat.

“I guess you’re right, it is a perfect fit.”

“I have something else that fits you perfectly,” he grinned cheekily, rolling his hips against me.

“Really?” I laughed. “Already?” He nodded eagerly, raising his eyebrows suggestively before burying his face in my neck.

“Not for fun obviously, I’m just getting cold,” he said between kisses, his lips dragging against my skin. “Unless you want me to just go get an extra blanket?” He added quietly, just before his teeth nipped at the spot below my ear that he knew always drove me crazy.

“Don’t you fucking dare go anywhere,” I giggled, throwing my leg over his hip and pulling him on top of me. No way was I letting him go tonight.