#it just feels so serial to be here and be getting ready for college come fall

[mygoodfriendjohnathanharker]

Fixed the door that Johnathan had slipped through, not letting that happen again!

[of-many-aus]

Why Jake calls you ‘Angel’

Summary: there’s always an origin story to a nickname, this one is yours

Warnings: none

A/N: let me know what you think of this series so far :)

Take Me Out to the Ball Game Masterlist

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

This was stupid. You had no idea why you had even let Natasha talk you into this, she knew this wasn’t your thing.

The noise was deafening with everyone screaming at the top of their lungs. Cheers and boos for this team or that.

Bodies rammed into one another as they jumped up and down, supporting their respective teams that were made up of either a sky blue, or a crimson red.

“You have to get to know him,” Nat chatted your ear off above all the yells, keeping your arms linked tightly as you wove back and forth in the crowd, “He’s your roommate, and you hardly know a thing about him.”

“Yeah,” You snapped back, shooting her a small glare, “Maybe he’s a serial killer. How does that feel, Nat? You could very well be the person who pressured me into accepting a living situation with a murderer.”

She rolled her eyes, long since used to your dramatic antics, “A cute murderer.” Your best friend flashed you a grin.

You rolled your eyes sarcastically, “Well, what he lacks in personality, I suppose he makes up for in looks.”

“Exactly!” She cheered, finally pushing through a clearing and towards seemingly the only two empty seats in the whole stadium, not giving you the chance to open your mouth and snap back about being sarcastic. She knew very well that you were.

It had been about two weeks since you and the star of your college's baseball team, Jake Seresin, had made a temporary arrangement of moving into an apartment together. And the two of you had been walking on eggshells around each other, which Natasha Trace never failed to throw in your face.

Honestly, you were more than fine keeping it that way. The less you were forced to talk to the cocky, ego driven athlete, the better.

Your best friend, on the other hand, seemed to think that it was fate that the two of you were thrown into the same living establishment. And apparently, it was an opportunity not to be passed up. Now, you had been dragged to his team's second game of the season. Evidently, missing his first one was some sort of crime in Natasha’s eyes and you now had to make up for it.

What did it matter anyway? He didn’t even know that you were here, and honestly, you hoped that it stayed that way. You didn’t need him thinking something other than the simple fact that you were dragged here, fighting tooth and nail to get away. But it was useless, Nat was impossible to stop when she put her mind to something.

Of course, the only seats available had to be in the very front row, just to the right of home plate.

The game had already started by the time you two sat down, and Jake's team was getting absolutely demolished.

No wonder all the other spectators were getting rowdy so quickly. Your school was trying to urge the team into coming back, and the other school was trying to keep their team up. The score was 1-6 and it was only the second inning.

Jakes team was up at bat, more specifically, a man you recognized to be Reuben Fitch, who was in your science class, at the plate, bat up and at the ready. According to the scoreboard, there was already one out, two pitches thrown, and nobody on the bases.

The pitcher from the other team glared against the sun as he wound his arm back, ready to release the ball. And when he so, it hooked in such a way that poor Reuben didn’t stand a chance of hitting it.

You felt a pang of pity in your heart for him, he had always been friendly to you, and watching his lips move in the shape of a curse and shaking his head in disappointment at himself made you sad to see. He made his way back to the dug out with a head hung low, not even reacting when Pete Mitchell, the coach, clapped him on the back in reassurance when he shuffled past him.

A frown pulled at your lips, “This is just sad,” You commented, “You picked the absolute worst day to force me to come and see a game.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to rebuttal, only to snap it shut when her eyes locked onto something behind you. A smirk slowly made its way onto her face, “Or maybe not.”

With furrowed eyebrows, you turned in your seat to see what she was looking at, only to lock eyes on a jersey you had grown accustomed to seeing thrown lazily around your apartment- along with other pieces of gear he never bothered to pick up- making it’s way towards you.

Jake was up at bat.

There was a determined aura about him, you could tell from the way his eyes stayed trained on the pitchers mound and from the way his jaw was set and shoulders were in a ridged square.

High pitched squeals erupted from behind you in a way that made you cringe at the sudden noise.

“It’s Jake!”

“He looks so hot.”

“He was totally checking me out earlier.”

You rolled your eyes at the group of girls behind you, babbling like a bunch of teenagers at the mall, and crossed your arms over your chest.

Natasha was looking over at you with a smirk that had morphed into a knowing one.

“What?” You snapped.

Her grin only widened, “Nothing, nothing.” She murmured, turning her attention back to the game.

After allowing your eyes to linger suspiciously on her for another moment, you tore them away from her and too looked to where Jake was now winding up to bat.

The pitcher threw the next one faster than he had moments ago, and it headed straight for the blond man.

Your heart jumped to your throat and your arms unconsciously loosened, falling to your sides as you leaned forward.

Jake jumped backwards out of the way just in time, the ball narrowly missing his stomach in the process.

Shouts of protest came from all over the stadium, cursing out the pitcher for trying to take out the star player.

A breath slipped through your lips and you felt the muscles in your shoulders loosen. Why they were even tense in the first place, you didn’t know.

Seresin let out a huff, taking a step back from the plate to give himself a moment to collect himself, and his gaze unconsciously swept over the crowd.

Bright green eyes locked onto yours before you could even think about looking away and trying to hide yourself.

Jake stilled.

All of the sounds seemed to drown out around you. Neither of you let up your stares, no matter how much as you knew you should.

Then, the corner of his lips quirked up the tiniest bit, and he threw a wink in your direction before turning back to the plate and stepping up once more.

One of the girls squealed from behind you, “Did you see that? Did you? Did you? He winked at me!”

You barely even heard her, eyes still yet to leave Jakes tall form.

“What was that all about?” You could hear the grin in her voice as Natasha whispered to you.

Not an answer came out of you though. You were too transfixed in the game.

When the ball came at him again, he was ready, and he hit it out of the park. Literally.

Again, it seemed like almost every person in the stadium began screaming at the top of their lungs. Whether it was from anger or pure joy at the home run the man had just hit.

Somehow, you had joined in with them, clapping as loudly as you could and cheering.

Jake threw one glance to you over his shoulder before taking a jog around the bases, a grin of victory playing on his lips.

It only went uphill from there.

Somehow, when put in the outfield, every single ball went Jake's way, and he caught each and every one of them. Then each time he came up to bat, he would get at least one other person home.

There was a reason he was the star player.

By the end, the score was 12-6, and your throat was raw from all the screaming you had done, as well as most likely every other person in the audience.

“Well?” You finally tore your eyes away from the field at your best friend's voice, “Worth coming?”

You hid a grin and tried to shrug nonchalantly, “I suppose.”

She laughed loudly, linking your arms together and beginning to lead you into the slowly dispersing crowd.

The two of you chatted all the way back to the row of cars, when a voice calling out your name made you both stop and turn.

Jake jogged after the two of you, baseball gear bag slung over one shoulder.

The group of girls that had been obnoxious behind you for the entire game now stood a few yards away with dropped jaws that soon turned into sneers.

Your roommate paid them no mind though, as he came to a stop in front of you, slightly breathless as if he had run all the way from the dugout to catch up with you.

“Hi,” You breathed out in surprise, eyebrows raised.

He grinned that blinding, award winning smile of his, “You came to my game.”

“Oh yeah,” Natasha piped up, nodding excitedly from beside you, “She practically dragged me here.”

Your head snapped into her direction and your eyes widened for a brief second before you began glaring daggers at her, “I did not-“

“I’m glad you came.”

The gentleness of his tone made your mouth snap shut and your attention turn to him once more.

“We were losing, bad, but then you showed up, and we suddenly won again.” He was yet to drop his grin.

You shook your head, “That wasn’t me-“

“Sure it was,” He laughed lightly, “You’re like my own guardian angel.”

You rolled your eyes, “Don’t call me that.”

If it was even possible, his grin seemed to widen, “Why not? I think it’s fitting.”

A scoff left your lips, and whatever weird haze you had been in during the game finally shook off, “Don’t you dare.” You warned.

“Hangman!” Bradley Bradshaw called from a couple paces away, waving the man down, “Come on! The boys are going out to celebrate!”

“Be right there!” The blond called back before winking at you once more, “See you at home, Angel.”

With that, he jogged off, leaving you in a speechless state that was so unlike you.

Nat moved to stand in front of you, wiggling her eyebrows.

You hesitated before softly shoving her, “Shut up.” You mumbled, turning to make your way to the car.

Taglist: none yet

[littleststarfighter]

Frerard fic recs part two

I have some more Frerard fic recs to share. Part one can be found here. If anyone has any recs I’d love to hear back. Please, as always these are just things I like, so they might not be to everyone's taste. I’m a bit of a fan of slow burn, pining and angst so that tends to pop up a lot. More to come as I’m reading so much lately.

This Tornado Loves You by theopteryx

1933. Frank's been on the run a long time and he's forced to stop in his old hometown. At first things are about what he expects - old friends, unpleasant memories, and a less-than-desirable home life. Everything changes one night when he stumbles on an old hedge maze hidden in the woods. It's not the hedge maze that intrigues him the most, though, but the secrets of the house hidden inside.

his ruins were beautiful by Softlyforgotten

A post-apocalyptic AU. "There's a boy in the next town," Toro says, "but people say he's crazy."

Heaven's Grief= Hell's Rain by Honestmouse

Gerard's your typical college drop out. He lives in his parent's basement. His best friend is his little brother. He has a whole truck load of shit wrong with his head and a past he doesn't want to talk about.

While Frank, on the other hand, isn't quite as average. He's a demon, hundreds of years old. He loves his job, really he does. He's on Hell's Guard, after all.

So, how hard would the world shake if the two meet?

Septicemia by Orphan_account

Gerard keeps ruining things, but he never means it. Frank keeps getting hurt, but he never feels it.

living for the knife By drunkonyou

Ten years ago Frank fell victim to a knife-wielding serial killer and not only walked away with his life, but with a set of comic-book-like abilities that he’s tried to make the best of.

Four years ago Gerard fell victim to that same killer, and not only walked away with his life, but with the inspiration to start a radio show dedicated to the man in the mask who saved him.

Growing tired of his role as New York’s resident vigilante, Frank is more than ready to retire the act — until he discovers that the man who tried to kill him has somehow escaped a life sentence and is now terrorizing Gerard live on air.

Who’s to say history doesn’t repeat itself?

Desecrated Kids by wellthisisprettyrisque (brainwitchletty)

Everyone moves into a new town and thinks it's strange. Stepping out of the car with a weird feeling tingling down the back of your neck isn't actually that unheard of, but finding that unmarked grave in the woods behind your house is.

Frank Iero wonders if his mother moved him here so he'd disappear off the face of the planet, or if she actually wants the body to be found. All he knows is that this town has some horrible things happening to it, and no one seems to care enough to lift their heads and actually see. He has no idea what's going on, and is one of the few people that wants to find out.

Luckily, Gerard is a few steps ahead of him.

24 Frames Per Second - The Belleville Fright Night Experiment of 1984 by Leandra

The 1984-Movie!AU: 1984: With new multiplexes opening up all over America, the run-down Belleville Film Palace is probably the least exciting place to work at for a teenager. Except if you’re a movie nut like projectionist Gerard and his closely knit circle of loser friends. When cocky and confident Frank joins their team as an usher, Gerard really doesn't think he'll stick around. Besides, there's something about Frank that just rubs Gerard the wrong way. Then an unforeseen event threatens the future of the movie theater and Gerard starts to questions things he's always taken for granted…

Remember Me as a Time of Day by cedarbranch

When it came to Frank's senior year of high school, he was prepared for the worst.

But he definitely wasn't prepared for a crash course on the supernatural world, a new school ruled by gossip, or a guy called Gerard with more sadness in his eyes than any living soul could take.

White Scars on the Necks of Teen Angels by wellthisisprettyrisque (brainwitchletty)

In the blazing month of April of 1958, Frank Iero considered himself a greaser punk old enough and wise enough to truly understand just how under appreciated and underestimated he was, as an eighteen year old teen writhing in the black leather world of greasers and subterraneans, freaks and reds. He could think ten more original thoughts by his first lazy jack off in the morning than half these assholes had in the whole damn school year, and Frank knew it.

On the outside, Frank was cool and aloof, and that was how he was meant to be. But inside, he was a god damn fream of a kid who had too many genius thoughts tumbling around than could be healthy. Ignorance was bliss, but Frank Iero? He was wide awake.

Gerard Way was that artsy kid that would have never caught his eye if he hadn't seen the kid walk out of the hospital covered in bruises. But now that Frank knew he existed, he couldn't look away.

I'm Just The Boy Who's Had Too Many Chances by MCRmyGeneral

Gerard knows his town. He knows his school, his classmates. He knows his family, and his dark, isolated room. He knows he's an artist, he knows he loves metal and punk music, he knows he likes horror maybe a little too much. And he knows he's gay, though he's never even whispered it out loud, not with his parents. He knows where he stands, he's got life figured out. High school, then art school, then hopefully comic book writer.

Until the cute new neighbor boy, Frank is thrown into the mix. Frnak also knows just where he stands in life; he's an impulsive little bastard that doesn't care about consequences; he just wants to have fun. Frank is the exact opposite of Gerard; he's not afraid to stand up for himself, he's loud, he's unafraid, and he's openly gay.

Gerard thought he had life all figured out. Then he met Frank. It's safe to say that Belleville, Belleville High, and most importantly, Gerard, will never be the same.

The Mess We've Made by ViciousVenin

Gerard isn't sure where his life is going. It feels like the world is shifting and changing around him and he's stuck in place, unable to move forward. But when he meets a guy at a club who tells him he's meant for something better, Gerard wants to believe him, and suddenly he's taking steps he never thought he would.

Somewhere In Neverland by chimneythunder

Gerard Way is living back at his parent’s house as a 28 year-old in recovery from alcoholism and severe depression. He’s supposed to be looking after Pete Wentz, the brattiest eight-year old he’s ever had the misfortune to meet, when Pete gets kidnapped by none other than Captain Hook and taken to Neverland. Before you can say “clap your hands if you believe in fairies”, Gerard’s been whisked off to Neverland by his old not-so-imaginary friend Peter Pan to save the kid and have some wonderful adventures of his own.

However, things are never as simple as they should be, and if Gerard ever wants to save Pete and get back home, he’s going to have to confront some very adult truths about himself, and in the meantime, he's also going to have to delve into the Peter Pan mythology and discover the truth about the boy who never grew up.

Harder Harmonies by melanch0licpumpkin WIP

Gerard finds himself trying to juggle touring nationally with his band and navigating his confusing and complicated relationship with one of his bandmates. With the band starting to make waves and gaining more attention, the idea of actual success and fame terrifies Gerard in a way he never expected, leaving him with the distinct sensation of drowning with no safe harbor in sight. He has also fallen hopelessly in love with Frank, an energetic and chaotic guitarist with a big heart and glaring commitment issues.

Nobody cares if you're losing yourself. Am I losing myself?

[winter-soldier-101]

The Legacy

Word count:1483

Disclaimer:I do not own any character of house of the dragon.

Warning: talk of murder and dead bodies.

Aemond looked at Viserys as he sat down in front of him.

“I asked to talk to your mother, where the hell is she?” Viserys asks Aemond.

“She has a Psychotic break when you were arrested she tried to kill herself then she tried to kill Otto so they locked her up and I was the only one left so it’s only me.” Aemond tells him.

“What did you want to tell me then?” Viserys asks Aemond.

“I want to continue what you were doing. I've always wanted to but I always thought it was wrong.” Aemond tells Viserys.

“I’ve waited to hear this, Aemond I’m proud of you.” Viserys tells Aemond as he finally feels like his son is truly his and tells him what he needs and who to pick and where to hide them and kill them and bury them after.

Aemond looks at his father with such deep passion and is ready to take on his legacy.

6 months later

Aemond sat down in class looking for his next victim so far Aemond has killed three women and he’s hidden them away and he knows he’ll never be caught.

“Hello everyone I would like to introduce our new student (Y/N) Snow she transferred from Winterfell College” Professor Strong tells the students.

Aemond looked up and all he felt was his own heart stop and he watched her walk around and sit right beside him and smile.

Aemond sat in the visitors room and waited to talk to his father.

“Aemond what is the matter you called and sounded scared?” Viserys asks Aemond.

“I found her the one to keep me calm.” Aemond tells his father.

“That’s good my boy you keep her happy till your ready for her to know the truth about you and if she is the one she will stay but if she’s not then you know what you must do.” Viserys tells Aemond.

Aemond sits down alone at lunch and (Y/N) stops and asks the people she’s walking in with why he’s alone?

“That’s Aemond Targaryen his father is Viserys Targaryen the famous serial killer that was caught last year Aemond used to be popular and everyone would talk to him and hang out with him but when news broke out about his dad and the woman that he killed everyone backed away from him and his family.” Nessi tells you.

“Hi, can I sit here?” (Y/N) asks Aemond

(Y/N) sets her lunch down and sits in front of Aemond as he nods slowly at you and is a little taken back that you sat alone with him as the other students look on and start whispering and looking concerned for your safety.

“You don’t have to sit here, you know that right?” Aemond tells (Y/N).

“I know but I want to get to know you first. I just don’t like the idea of everyone talking badly about you to me so I’m talking to you and getting to know you better.” (Y/N) tells Aemond as he smiles at you and you smile back at him.

2 years later

(Y/N) held Aemond’s hand as he talked to his brother and sister.

“Are you going to introduce her to father?” Helaena asks Aemond.

“Yes she wants to meet him and I’ll take her to the cemetery tomorrow to meet mother.” Aemond tells Helaena.

Aemond holds your hand as you both walk over to his mothers grave stone and you let go and kneel to the side and say a little prayer.

“Mother I want you to meet (Y/N) she’s my girlfriend (Y/N) this is my mother Alicent.” Aemond says as he looks at you.

“Aemond’s told me all about you and your three other children and I’m happy to have him in my life and I can’t wait to see what our future holds.” (Y/N) says as she looks up at Aemond.

Aemond held (Y/N)’s hand as they made their way over to the visitor area and waited for Viserys to come out.

“So you're the girl who stole my son's heart?” Viserys asks (Y/N) as he sits down and looks at you.

“Yes I’ve stolen his and he’s stolen mine.” (Y/N) tells Viserys.

(Y/N) leaves Aemond and Viserys to talk alone.

“She’s your one I can see it my boy she was made for you just like my Aemma was mine.” Viserys tells Aemond.

Three months later.

(Y/N) sat down after her name was called and she walked the stage getting her degree and diploma (Y/N) looked over and she’s her father and sister and brother and Aemond sitting close by and smiling at them and waving at them.

“Aemond I did it!” (Y/N) yells as she jumps into his arms.

“Sara, Cregan, father I’m so happy you could make it.” (Y/N) says as she pulls Aemond over to meet her family.

“Of course we would make it.” Sara says as she hugs you tight.

“This is Aemond Targaryen, my boyfriend.” (Y/N) says introducing him to her family.

Aemond held (Y/N) as they walked into the restaurant with her family walking behind them as they ate, everyone talked and laughed till dessert came.

Aemond got down on one knee and pulled out a little black box.

“(Y/N) Snow I’ve been in love with you for some time and I want to spend the rest of my life with you so will you marry me?” Aemond asks (Y/N).

“Yes I’ll marry you Aemond.” (Y/N) says as the tears fall down her face.

Three years later

Aemond helped (Y/N) sit up as she was seven months pregnant with their first child but soon everything would come crashing down for them both.

Two months ago

“Viserys Targaryen, your execution will take place in three months.” The Judge says as everyone in court cheers.

The day before Viserys execution he calls for some FBI agents and that he has information that they might want to have.

“Agent Harwin Strong it’s good to see you.” Viserys says as he looks up at Harwin.

“I’m here to see if your information is credible.” Harwin tells Viserys.

“There are three women’s body’s here and I know who killed them but what I want is to say goodbye to my daughter Rhaenyra and her children and my brother Daemon before I’m executed.” Viserys tells Harwin.

Harwin tells his senior agent and they get a team and start looking for the body’s and they find three women’s bodies and ten more bodies next to them.

“Who killed the three women?” Harwin asks Viserys.

“My son Aemond killed them till he met his wife.” Viserys says.

“Will see about that and you will be adding ten more counts of murder on you. We found ten more bodies and we know you killed them.” Harwin tells Viserys.

(Y/N) opens the door and sees the FBI and lets them in.

“What is going on?” (Y/N) asks the agents.

“We need to talk to Aemond Targaryen.” Harwin says.

“Aemond!” (Y/N) yells out.

“What’s going on here?” Aemond asks as he sees two FBI Agents in his home.

“Your father gave us information that you killed three women and he gave us the location of their bodies and now we need you to come with us now” Harwin tells Aemond.

“No, that's not true, is it Aemond?” (Y/N) asks Aemond.

“No it’s not true and I don’t know why he would say all this and I’ll go with you because I’ve done nothing wrong Agent Strong.” Aemond says as he follows Harwin.

Two months later

“Viserys Targaryen you are being charged with 13 counts of murder how do you plead?” The Judge asks him.

“Guilty.” Viserys says.

Aemond looked on at his father with hatred in his eyes Aemond had set up his father and used him so he could get away with all 13 murders Aemond had found out about his father long ago and used that to get his feel of killing and he got away with it using the method his father used and never used his own and now his father will pay for trying to take him away from his wife and soon to be born son.

“Are you happy that you got away with it?” (Y/N) asks Aemond as he looks at her shocked.

“What are you talking about?” Aemon asks (Y/N).

“Aemond I know you killed those women so please just tell me the truth. I'm not afraid of you. I've known for some time and I don’t care that you killed them.” (Y/N) tells Aemond as she kisses him softly.

“Yes I killed those 13 women (Y/N).” Aemond tells you as he breaks down and tells you everything.

Tag list: @namelesslosers @madelynwal

[olderthannetfic]

audience question: what books/movies would you give (or have given) your kids to become their formative media? i'm interested to see what makes the cut 👀

--

I'd let them have access to my library. If it's a book, I'll let them figure out when they're ready to handle it.

(Works fine as long as you're a decent parent and answer questions that come up without being a weirdo about it and freaking them out so they never ask you anything again.)

For films and other things... hmm... it's tricky because all of the formative tings for me were the genre I'd call Weird Art Films About Weird Sex.

If my kid were shaping up to be that kind of weirdo at 14, maybe I'd leave some of these around, but I think it would be pretty intrusive to thrust them upon anybody outside of a film school seminar. Maybe Harold & Maude. My parents rented that when I was a tween. It made An Impression. It's rare for me to see something even two or three times, but Harold and Maude I've seen dozens.

I still think the opening to Harold and Maude is one of the best of any film:

You immediately know what kind of people both of these characters are and that this isn't going to be a simple comedy, dark or otherwise.

The first time I watched it, I knew nothing about the film and was surprised at both this and all of Harold's other antics. It's hilarious until it isn't. It's a movie about zest for life vs. wanting to die, and it walks an interesting line tonally. I remember rewatching it to show it to friends in college... and for the first time understanding that look Harold gets when he sees Maude's arm.

--

There was definitely media I loved pre-puberty, but the things I remember are all like Nancy Drew.

I consumed vast quantities of mystery, and it's probably why I'm a mystery novelist today, but I don't remember anything specific that feels formative in other ways. I wouldn't try to stop a kid from reading trash. I remember how infuriating it was to have adults constantly trying to make me read something "better" than Nancy Drew. But I wouldn't specifically hand my kid those or any of the other formulaic junk series (Sweet Valley High et al.). They'll find whichever ones are popular at the time just fine.

--

There's a very particular feeling of my brain lighting up that I remember mostly from my teen years. Those media made me quiver and have to pause the movie. I felt seen or maybe I felt too much to handle. That's the feeling I associate with formative media for me.

Here are the ones that instantly spring to mind even after all this time:

Velvet Goldmine - Music fan investigates the glam rockers of his youth, meditating on his sexual awakening and trying to solve the mystery of where one of them went. Ewan McGregor's tweet is the sequel. I will accept no other outcome.

Crash - James Spader at the peak of his beauty falls into the world of car crash fetishists who are dealing with the ennui of modern life and the alienation of the big city and technology by becoming perverts. Contains people going down on scars and tattoos, fetishy leg braces, and what teen me assumed was homoerotic subtext. (Spoiler: it was not subtext.)

Matador - A serial killer murders her victims like a bullfighter would; she stalks her favorite retired bullfighter who is also a serial killer. Antonio Banderas plays a dweeb like always in Spain. (The rest of Almodóvar's 80s and 90s movies were also favorites.)

Kissed - The fluffy necrophilia movie

The City of Lost Children - Less horny, but what is up with Miette and One's vibe? Visually a feast. Ten times the movie Amélie is. Sorry, not sorry.

Cemetery Man - Rupert Everett kills zombies in this bizarre Italian horror movie based on a comic book character drawn to look like Rupert Everett. My stepfather thought it looked like something I'd like and rented it for one of my birthday parties in high school. Around the time of the quasi necrophilia sex scene I realized 1. he'd chosen well and 2. he had clearly not read the back too carefully.

The Pillow Book - Japanese-Chinese novelist named after Sei Shonagon has a battle of literary wits with the publisher who blackmailed her father into sex with him. Involves a lot of calligraphy on naked men, including Ewan McGregor.

Sex, Lies & Videotape - Unfulfilled housewife has her world turned upside down when her shitty husband's college best friend comes to visit. This dude has become unable to be with women after a bad breakup and interviews and videotapes women discussing their masturbation habits for his own private use. Contains a famous and stupid quote about men falling in love with the people they sleep with and women becoming more and more attracted to the people they love, but the movie is far less gender normative than the character saying that.

Tesis - Uptight film student who pretends not to like violence decides to do a thesis on violence in Spanish media. Her advisor dies while watching a mysterious tape he got from somewhere. She steals it, finds out it's a snuff film, and investigates with the help of a creepy horror film nerd.

The best scene is when they're watching some violent shit she asked him for ("for her thesis") and she says "What kind of people watch this stuff?"

He answers: "You, for example."

That one I discovered when my roommate in Japan was watching it a couple of years after college. Many of these I saw in high school. That's the range where I remember things being particularly formative. Or maybe it's about what I'm open to at different points in my life: I think weird art films can still make me feel too much, but I don't always like that feeling, and I don't seek them out as much now.

Knife+Heart made me flash back to that era though. It's a neon-drenched period piece about a lesbian director of artsy gay male pornos investigating a serial killer targeting her actors. The sheer levels of meta insanity and horny murder scenes, my god!!!

Running through all of these are themes of ambiguous sexuality, often queer but also non-genitally-focused, massive quantities of voyeurism, meditations on what it means to be a fan, and a boatload of death=sex=death vibes.

--

That's not quite what you asked, but basically, my own formative media isn't something I'd share with just anyone. If people want to watch necrophilia-filled art films of the 90s, I think they need to choose that for themselves.

I guess all that access to Beatrix Potter and watching basically no TV other than Mystery! or Masterpiece Theater (i.e. UK costume dramas catering to a teaboo market and co-funded by the US) during my early childhood had an effect. So did going to schools where we studied Asian American history and read Dragonwings.

None of those media stand out. I'd share them with my kid, but one example is as good as another. Knives Out delivers substantially the same experience as most of them. Watching whatever anime is hot now will be as good as watching the anime I liked when I was young.

[superpixie42]

So it's not quite ready for AO3 buuuuuuuuuuut

I did make progress on The Thing aka my whole 7-part new AU for InuKag Week. After not writing anything for months, I'm a little rusty and this is more ambitious in terms of style and world building than I typically work with so I'm not sure when the whole thing will be ready, but I love love love @inukag-week and seeing so many folks coming out of hiatus to participate really inspired me to get *something* ready to rock.

Much love to @anisaanisa @kstewdeux and @dawnrider for their help as I shook off the cobwebs.

So here is Part 1: Love Languages (aka Touch & Miscommunication)

General Info:

Summary:

Kagome Higurashi would sell her soul to get into a good high school. No. Literally. The ratty old journal she found in her grandfather's shed may have been a long shot, but with only one more day before her entrance exam, she really didn't have anything to lose. But when the Hell Hound Inuyasha actually materializes in her room, it turns out to be more than either of them bargained for.

RATING: M or E (but this part is T, for language)

Words: 2,000 (I know I was shocked too)

TAGS (for the whole fic not just these parts) Modern AU // InuKag Week 2023 //Serial Style// Time Jumps//Tumblr events//Modern setting//Sexual content- masturbation//Demon Summoning AU//Bittersweet Endings//No additional character tags

In which Kagome learns to be careful what she wishes for.

–

Kagome checked the instructions one more time. She had the candle, the fresh meat, the knife, and was using clean linen paper. Honestly it all looked so… dorky. She let out a frustrated sigh, unsure if she felt more disappointed or just plain stupid. Doing stuff like this was probably why she wasn’t going to get into a decent high school. Or college. And if med school ever found out she honestly tried to summon a demon using instructions she found in a handwritten journal in a shed on her grandfather’s shrine she would have a better chance of becoming a patient than treating them. 

And yet here she was. Kagome Higurashi on her knees in a black dress and dark cardigan looking straight out of an American horror movie, hoping against hope that her soul was worth a better-than-passing grade on tomorrow’s entrance exams. She was smart - smarter than her current situation made her feel, that’s for damn sure. But after nearly a semester of sick days there just wasn’t enough cram school on Earth to get her up to speed. She needed this to work. This had to work. 

She checked the clock: a good hour before her mother and brother got home. It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath Kagome quickly sliced the kitchen knife across her finger. She pressed down onto the middle of the white page. With as much conviction as she could muster she finally spoke: “Inuyasha, I need help.”

A beat passed. 

Then another. 

Nothing happened.

Honestly, she didn’t know what she expected.  Defeated, she swore violently and tore the useless little paper with its stupid little spell clean in half.

As soon as the last fiber broke there was a deafening roar. Kagome screamed and stood, pressing her back against her bedroom door. In front of her the air crackled with energy as the room went black, then flashed orange with light and heat as the walls burst into unnatural flames. In the middle of the room, pulling his way out of the torn half of paper, was a giant white dog. It growled and snarled and snapped its jaws; spittle hissing into steam. 

The Hell Hound filled the whole room, his red eyes with blue irises bore into Kagome, staring her down like the prey she was suddenly very sure she was. As Inuyasha’s shoulders dropped low to let him take the single step between them, Kagome considered her options. 

One, burn to death. 

Two, be mauled to death. 

Three, something equally melodramatic considering she summoned a fucking demon to pass a test. 

She quickly surveyed the room for an option four, looking hopefully at the window behind the hound. Her vision was blocked as the beast twisted slightly to face her fully again, its pointed white ears alert and focused on the heartbeat she could hear loud as a drum. She watched the ear twitch at her intake of breath. Maybe it was a lack of oxygen from the arson she’d accidentally committed, but the longer she looked at the ears the softer they looked. Figuring she was going to die anyway, Kagome slowly raised her hand; Inuyasha finally blinked, then moved his eyes to follow her raising arm. 

As softly as she could manage, Kagome dragged her middle finger down from the tip, but the ear didn’t so much as flinch. Emboldened, she quickly caressed her thumb and forefinger on the fluffy white ear. 

As soon as her fingers closed around the soft appendage the growling stopped and instead she heard a very human voice shouting in her face.

“What the fuck lady? You don’t pet a Hell Hound!” 

As suddenly as it appeared the fire disappeared. Kagome dropped to her knees in confusion and relief as her room reappeared around her, untouched and unscathed by the flames no longer licking at her face. She blinked stupidly at where the monstrous dog had been only seconds ago. In its place was a pale, fit, glowering man - the pointy ears she’d just held in her hand perched on top of a thick pile of frizzy white hair. Below the pinned back ears were thick, scowling eyebrows, molten golden eyes with slit pupils, and an expression as black as a thundercloud. She tried to find somewhere else to look when the heat returned quickly to her face as she realized that the angry demon dog man was a naked angry demon dog man. 

She ripped her eyes back to the ears. Unusual. 

Then to his eyes. Unsettling. 

The penis. Unexpected.

In an undignified fluster she smacked her face to the floor in a deep bow.

“My name is Kagome and my Lord Inuyasha I beg you to help me, please please I have to get into High School! In exchange I’ll give you anything you want I swear! Just make sure I pass and it’s yours.”

Inuyasha stood absolutely dumbfounded in the middle of what he now realized was a small bedroom, in a small house, next to a small shrine. When he’d felt his summoning charm call him he expected to rip into a board room, or a camp fire, or the aftermath of something that had gone very pear shaped. He was used to being offered souls, meat, or blood in exchange for power, murder, money; or to make problems go away in whatever manner he wanted. He sure as shit didn’t expect a teenager in a pink cat sweater to touch his ears and then ask him to help her cheat on a test. 

He scoffed. But after five hundred years of the same pathetic, selfish demands, novelty wasn’t something Inuyasha was willing to walk away from so quickly. He bit. 

“Keh, what can a girl like you even offer a hell hound?”

Kagome lifted her head slightly to look at him. “Anything you want. I’m a virgin-”

“Nope.”

“I am so!” she shouted indigently. She raised herself up onto her knees and glared. Yes, Kagome was turning to black magic to pass her exam but she wasn’t going to have her character assassinated by a demon. “You don’t have to be rude ya know!”

Inuyasha blinked as his ears flattened of their own accord. It had been a very long time since anyone scolded him. Another unexpected turn in this summoning. He crossed his arms and returned her glare.  

“I mean no I’m not interested in your virginity. Or your soul, you humans have such tiny souls anyway.” He smirked as he saw her lip twitch with what he was sure was a scathing retort. Kagome, however, did not take the bait. Instead she reigned in her temper and bowed low again. In a much less desperate tone she spoke into the floor. 

“In exchange for making sure I get into a high school that will get me into medical school I will give you anything you ask.”

“You summoned a demon for that? If you can’t even pass an entrance exam what makes you think you can survive medical school? Ya can’t offer your virginity to a demon twice ya know - how were you even gonna graduate?”

That, however, was too much. Kagome stood and stomped over to him, poking her finger into his chest for emphasis as she shouted. 

“Listen here pal! I could pass that test all on my own if they would just give me some time! It’s not my fault I got sick, like doctors aren’t allowed to get sick sometimes!?” She growled in frustration, a sound that Inuyasha couldn’t help but appreciate as it sounded not unlike his own. “It’s not fair. I just need time to catch up on the material and I know I could do it on my own. But if I don’t take the test tomorrow, or I flunk and retake it, that’s it, my reputation will never recover even if my grade point average does.” 

Inuyasha considered her request. I wouldn’t take any effort at all to change her score on the exam. But then he’d be back to aimlessly wandering until someone much less interesting with a much less, well not wholesome, but definitely more gruesome demand calls him. This Kagome stood up to him, defended herself, faced death in the eye and instead of running she reached out to touch it. While he had already decided to grant her wish, he had also decided he wasn’t quite going to do it the way she asked.

“You ain’t the only one with a reputation,” he said. He took a step back, cutting the tension and giving Kagome space to breathe. “If I’m gonna get you into this stupid special school I gotta make sure you stay there. Folks summoning me need to know I get the job all the way done, not taking the easy way out.”

Kagome narrowed his eyes, skeptical of the idea of creating an ongoing contract instead of the single transaction she expected. But then again, he wasn’t entirely wrong. What if changing her scores got noticed and she needed another fix? What if she got sick again? Isn’t that why you’re supposed to be really, really specific with genies? Assuming there were genies- but that afternoon’s events made her consider taking up antiquing as a hobby just in case.

“You still haven’t told me what you want as payment.”

“Well,” he said, “depends on what you need.” He picked at his ear with a pointed finger to feign disinterest. “To guarantee a passing grade I’ll just need something small. But to un-dead someone you cut up in clinicals will be a whole other matter,” he smirked at her undignified snort, “but not as much as convincing the class leader to take six months in Shanghai to improve your standing. But let’s not worry about that just yet.” 

Kagome braced herself, but still felt the air rush out of her lungs when he finally said, “I want your right eye.” He continued quickly, “For one year, I want to see everything you see through that eye. It becomes my eye. If I get bored, I can simply make it go black. Or maybe I use it to track someone for another wish. Or maybe I don’t do anything at all; but it’s mine to do as I will.”

He slit open the tab of his left thumb with a quick swipe of his claw. “Do we have a bargain?”

Kagome hesitated. This seemed more annoying than costly- thought being suddenly blind in one eye wasn’t what she’d expected. Was this better or worse?

Did she really feel like she had a choice anymore? 

“Deal.”

With one smooth motion Inuyasha thrust his thumb into her eyesocket. The force of the blow knocked her to the ground and she quickly threw both hands up to cover her face as her left eye burned. As soon as it started, it ended. Kagome blinked slowly, looking around the empty room. It looked exactly as it had an hour ago and if not for the dull ache behind her orbitals and the sweat caking her brow she might have thought it was all a dream. On hands and knees she scrambled across the floor and snatched the small mirror from the desk.

Staring back at her was one of her traditional brown eyes. The other was bloodshot, with a blown pupil, and a bright sapphire blue iris; and without her permission, it winked back at her.

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Here is part 3 of my Interview With a Writer series. You can go to this post to review the other amazing authors I have spoken with ♥ Just a BTS of some of the talented minds on Tumblr and ao3.

Name: inthedayswhenlandswerefew

Story: North to the Future

Paring: modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Rating/Warning: Sexual themes, substance abuse, acts of violence, and there is a serial killer, so murder.

So when did you start writing?  I can remember working on pieces of stories as far back as elementary school, but I never thought of myself as wanting to be a writer. Then in 2010, when I was 15, I got my first vivid, all-consuming, lightning bolt of an idea. It took over my life in the best possible way and I wrote a novel over 9 months. 

Now, to be clear, the novel was very bad. But you have to read a lot and write a lot before you start getting good at it, and that experience was absolutely transformative for me. 

I had a lot of chaotic life situations and a bit of a crisis of confidence, and I wrote only sporadically during college and for several years afterwards. Then in 2018, I saw Bohemian Rhapsody and it became my only personality trait for a while. 

As I was reblogging a million gifsets on Tumblr, I stumbled across fanfiction for the first time, and I was like…wait…other people make up self-insert stories every time they get obsessed with a movie/show too?! It was so exciting, I finally felt like I had an outlet to put my ideas and characters out into the world. I’ve been writing pretty consistently since February 2019, and I would consider that the point when I really became a writer.

I think it is safe to say every writer has that first, all-consuming novel. Does it still exist? Oh yeah, it definitely still exists! I have a Word Doc, and also a paper copy that I had printed and bound at Staples back in the day. It’s a dystopian story about a man who has to pretend to be a true believer in an oppressive regime in order to rise to the top and change it from within, but by the end of the journey he’s become sort of genuinely evil. I keep the paper copy in a box under my bed. Poor quality notwithstanding, it has a lot of sentimental value.

Okay, where did the plot for North to the Future come from? What inspired the story? Towards the end of writing my Aemond fic—Have You No Idea That You’re In Deep?—I started feeling this fascination with Aegon as a character, and I could kind of sense that there was a story about him ready to be excavated from wherever ideas wait to be discovered. 

I kept picturing him in an unassuming little bar filled with Christmas lights as snow fell outside: sad, drunk, wearing all black. But I didn’t have a story yet, just a vision. And the songs I kept hearing when I thought about this tortured modern Aegon were 90s songs: Everlong, A Long December, Drive. 

Then one day out of nowhere, the plot showed up. 

The first real idea I get for a story is always the very end, and I saw Aegon and the protagonist barreling down the Pacific Coast Highway in a red convertible. I knew that Aegon was sober and going back home to face some terrible past, and that the girl he loved was experiencing California for the first time, and that they were both finally free of demons they’d been running from their whole lives. Once I knew the ending, the rest of the details started falling into place, and within a few days I had an outline and chapter list.

Explain your interpretation of Aegon. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in NttF? Aegon is a talented and intuitive person, but he’s clearly not suited for running a venture capital empire or corporate work in general. So his earliest, most formative memories are of his parents (and grandfather) being disappointed in him. He experienced abuse, both emotional and physical, and developed extremely harmful coping mechanisms that at a certain point he no longer knew how to function without. He was suicidal in part because of his self-loathing and the futility of his situation, but also because the only time he received even vague compassion from his parents was after he had swallowed a bottle of pills or stabbed himself with four of his mother’s EpiPens. 

Of course what Aegon overlooked was that he did have people back in Miami who cared about and wanted to help him, although they were too young to effectively communicate it: Aemond, Helaena, and Daeron.

After the accident that claimed Aemond’s eye and three innocent lives, Aegon can’t cope with reminders of what he’s done because he’s fundamentally not someone who ever wants to hurt others. He directs his destructiveness inwards, not outwards, and even when striking out in self-defense he runs away as soon as the opportunity presents itself. That’s the real difference between Aegon and Jesse. When Dadtini talks about Jesse, he mentions bruises and kicked down doors. That’s not Aegon. Jesse gives bruises, Aegon gets them.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal? I didn’t consciously have anyone in mind when I was writing Appletini, but most of my Readers tend to be snarky, studious, and guarded (yet reluctantly hopeful), so that’s probably my own personality bleeding into the characters! I envisioned someone who was well-intentioned and ostensibly responsible, yet under the surface struggling in a way that she felt she couldn’t share with anybody else. I think most people have felt like that at some point in their lives, so it’s just a matter of being able to take the essence of that feeling and shape it to fit with the story’s narrative. Honestly, the most difficult part of writing Appletini was her relationship with her extremely supportive and functional parents, as that’s not something I have much experience with. I was really relieved when people connected with Momtini and Dadtini as characters because I wasn’t sure if I was doing them justice. In what ways do you feel your Reader compliments Aegon? The defining characteristic of the Aegon/Appletini relationship is that she wants him to become the best version of himself, and truly believes that he has the capacity to if he’ll work for it. She knows he’s brilliant, she knows he’s a genuinely good person under all of his issues and mistakes, she knows he’s fine af, and she knows she loves him. But none of that is enough if he’s not sober.

Someone like Heather or Joyce wouldn’t see value in Aegon, and someone like Kimmie wouldn’t push him to change. The story is in the war that Appletini fights to prove that Aegon can and should conquer his demons. Similarly, Aegon wants Appletini to break free of her suffocating obligations in Juneau, and it causes him genuine pain to see her not living the life she wants. They really want the best for each other, even in their worst moments.

Was there another character (OC or canon) in your story you enjoyed portraying? (And why?) Firstly, I really enjoyed writing Kimmie because she’s a twist on the trope of the attractive, overtly-sexual, not terribly intellectual girl always getting killed in horror movies. Kimmie is the “hot friend” and she loves to party, but she’s also deeply loyal and affectionate, and she notices certain things that other people don’t. I wanted the readers to underestimate her, and then hate her, and then come back to realizing that she wasn’t a villain after all. She could use a better sense of boundaries, but she’s a good person. I feel like by the end of NTTF, it’s clear why Heather, Joyce, and Appletini are friends with Kimmie despite all her…peculiarities.

Secondly, Trent was a super fun character to write, because he’s unnerving without being completely unrealistic. He reminds me of a lot of the frat boys I went to college with…superficially pleasant yet entitled, less malicious than willfully ignorant about anything that doesn’t fit with what he wants in life. He’s a product of the “boys will be boys” era that he grew up in, especially with Alaska being more old-fashioned than the rest of the country, so the 1990s there feel like the 1960s or 70s in some ways. Also, I can’t lie, I loved all the dumb horse boi jokes.

Finally, I absolutely adored Aemond as a character and I was just as impatient as the readers were for him to finally show up in Chapter 11. He’s so stoic and fierce, but he has a tremendous amount of love for Aegon and this blind faith in his ability to change for the better. Aemond’s personality is a lot like Appletini’s, which is why they end up having this tacit respect for each other. I think they end up as close friends eventually, probably even closer than Aemond and Aegon.

Was there an OC character that reflects the author? Out of all the NTTF characters, I am definitely the most like Heather! I’m that friend who is snarky and judgmental on the surface, but also ferociously protective…which can be tough when you’re watching your friends make questionable decisions, like our poor beloved Heather was forced to throughout the series. I know she was thrilled to see that everyone ended up happy. That’s all we really want, us Heathers of the world.

You mentioned your retirement from fan fiction, so what is next? What’s next is writing a novel, which I am super excited about! I’ve had the plot figured out for a few years now and have written bits and pieces of it already, but now I’m determined to dive in without any creative detours and get it written, hopefully within a year. 

I do have some trepidation about the project—What if the idea isn’t good? What if I can’t do it justice? What if I can’t keep to a schedule now that I don’t have an amazingly wonderful audience expecting weekly updates?—but I’ve come to realize that if I never try to be a “real” writer, I’m going to regret it my whole life. I’m trying to be logical about it and tell myself that even if my first book isn’t perfect, I can always write others, so it’s not like my whole future is contingent upon this one project. I’ve had the idea for so long that the characters feel real to me, and I just want to tell their story well.

[princehrry-writings]

Let Light Be Light

i've been on a lizzy kick and also experiencing college for the first time so this is what came of that.

warnings: BRIEF mentions of a serial k*ller, slight angst, fluff!!!!! mentions of family trauma

wordcount: 1894

masterlist

But my therapist says To just let light be light So I'm letting him stay around

.

.

.

I’m alone almost every night and I don't know if I’m processing right.

The days grew shorter and the nights colder. Y/n spent most of her time studying, trying to stay on top of her school work. Fall semester was in full swing and while she was sad to be away from home, she was happy to be allowed to think her own thoughts and feel her own feelings instead of everyone else’s. It was a breath of fresh air she didn’t know she needed until she took it. 

Another late night at the library, nailing down her answers for her music theory midterm. She found that she loved the smell of old books and dust. Something about it made her feel so studious. She thinks it must be some kind of placebo effect or something because anytime she studies in the library, she feels like the information sticks better. 

Her friends had invited her to a study session but she's never been able to focus in group settings like that. She had to figure shit out on her own growing up and that's been a running theme with everything she does in her young adult life. She does shit by herself. She’s never had anyone to lean on before so why would she start now? 

That’s not to say Y/n doesn’t appreciate her friends because she does, but if something isn’t broken, no need to take it apart and put it back together. 

It’s nearing closing time at the library, meaning it’s closer to midnight then she realized it was. It’s dark out and she forgot her pepper spray in her room, but her dorm isn’t too far away from the library. A 10 minute walk when she’s really moving, so she packs up and gets ready to head out when a voice stops her. 

“Wait, you’re not gonna walk alone are you?” She turns around to see this boy, who she recognized from a few classes and he worked here, standing at the counter, lookin at her like she's about to jump off a cliff. He seems cute enough, more than she would ever admit to herself, really. He’s tall, long legs and arms, built muscles. His hair falls right above his ears and is curly, but not too curly. It’s very flowy from what she assumes is him running his fingers through it all day to keep it out of his face, and it looks really soft.

“Yeah…?” She says, wondering why he’s so concerned for her. She’ll be ok, it’s not a bad walk. 

“It’s not safe… haven’t you seen the news? There’s a suspect for a murder case running loose on this side of town. His targets are college age girls. Let me walk you home?” His accent makes her a lot less annoyed than she normally would be by somebody telling her she can’t take care of herself. 

“How do I know you're not him?” She quips, hoping he’ll give up so she can just go home. Well, as home as a dorm room can be. 

He raises an eyebrow, making him more attractive than she thought a random boy in the library could ever be, chuckling a little bit and picking up his bag. She notices that everyone else is already gone and it’s just the two of them, and wishes just for a second that she didn’t listen to true crime podcasts because she’s a little scared he could actually be the murderer he just warned her about. But when he comes over and she gets a good look at him, she just can’t see him being a murderer. She couldn’t really see him hurting a fly if she had to be honest. 

He grabs his bag and a ring of keys off the desk and pads over to where she stands. 

“M’ Harry, by the way. Figure you should know my name before I kill you behind the library.” He smirks. Oh, so he’s funny too. Now Y/n really has to put up a wall. Funny guys are dangerous. 

“I’m Y/n. Figure you should know the name of your latest victim.” She smirks back, matching energy but mentally she detaches herself because she can’t let herself form any sort of attachment to him. 

“What hall are you in?” He asks, leading her to the front door and turning off the lights, locking the door behind them. 

“It’s only like a 10 minute walk from here. I live in Greeley.” She answers quickly, shoving her hands deep into her pockets. Fall nights can be brutal but there's something that endears her to them. Something about the promise of the seasons changing, new beginnings, a fresh start. A cycle you can always count on. If nothing else, you always know that summer will turn to fall, and fall to winter, and so on. 

They walk quickly, making small talk and learning little things about each other. Like Harry is in three out of 7 of her classes. He talks to her like they’ve been friends forever and she can’t figure out why he’s being so nice to her. Can’t figure out what he wants, not that she really has much to give in the first place. 

 Too soon do they arrive at the front door of her dorm building. He says goodbye with a charming smile that she has to consciously not blush at and she makes her way upstairs. 

The butterflies win anyway, flooding her with a warmth she swore she would never feel again. She just met him today. What is she doing with herself? 

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

Suddenly, Y/n sees Harry everywhere. She knows it's crazy to think he’s following her, but that’s what her brain tells her because why would she be seeing him everywhere all of the sudden. She definitely doesn’t think it’s because he’s all she's been able to think about since he walked her home from the library. 

The nights had continued getting colder, and finally the first snow of the season had fallen upon them. And as cynical as people think she is, Y/n absolutely loves all things winter. The cozy nights with a lit candle (that she hides from her RA), ice skating, christmas lights. All of it, she loves. So as the snow falls, Y/n sits out on a bench wrapped in her heavy coat, a hot drink in her hand and wanderlust written across her features. 

She doesn’t even realize there's someone sitting next to her until Harry scoots a little closer, waving his hand in front of her face. 

“Aren’t you freezing?” She startles out of her daze, seeing the boy sitting next to her. Something between a goofy smile and a concerned stare paints his face and it's almost enough to make her laugh, but she stops herself. 

“Not one bit…” She lightly smiles, thinking about how much she loves the weather right now. He can’t seem to wrap his head around this girl, why she seems so… distant from him. 

He thought maybe it was him specifically, but he hadn’t done anything rude. At least not that he knew of. Maybe sometime ago he had accident;y been a prick and she still remembers and holds it against him.

She doesn’t say anything else so he just sits there with her, quietly people watching and trying not to freeze his bits off. He wanted to figure her out. 

-

“I don't know why he’s so persistent… I see him everywhere now, after the library thing. And last week he sat next to me on a bench outside for like an hour. Just quietly sat next to me, didn’t try to talk to me or anything. I don’t understand him at all.” 

“Have you ever thought that maybe he wants to get to know you?” Y/n’s therapist wonders out loud. 

“Why would he want to know me? What even is there to know? My family trauma, my anxiety, that I’m jaded because of what happened with my last relationship? I’m not exactly a ball of sunshine…” She rants back, wondering what this boy could possibly be interested in when it comes to her. 

“I think you should just let light be light. Let him be a good thing in your life. Don’t try and mess it up before it even starts because you’re scared to let someone in.” 

Y/n pauses, suddenly realizing why she was pushing him away so hard. 

-

“Harry!” 

The boy turns around quickly, zeroing in on who called his name. He does a double take, not believing who was trying to get his attention. 

“Hey Y/n…” He’s confused but elated. She’s never really shown interest in trying to talk to him unless he comes up to her first so seeing her calling his name is a bit jarring. He feels a little thrown off his game. 

“Hey, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to grab lunch with me, if you’re not busy?” She asks. Y/n feels like she might pass out or throw up… or both. But she’s trying to take her therapist's advice and let good things happen to her and she figured she would take matters into her own hands. Again, she always had to do shit by herself so this isn’t really any different. She didn’t feel like waiting around hoping he might make a move. So here she is… 

Harry’s face lights up in that stupidly cute little smile that he has and she can feel the warmth it radiates flow through her body. Maybe her therapist is on to something… 

“Are you asking me on a date?” He quips, the smile morphing into a smirk. Her cheeks glow bright red and something tells him it's not from the cold weather. 

“Yeah…” 

“It’s about time, jeez. I’ve only been flirting with you since, oh I don’t know, I offered to walk you home that night!” He lets an exasperated sigh leave his lips and he takes a few steps closer to her, giggling at how this situation had turned in his favor so quickly. He’d actually been working up the nerve to ask her that exact question. She just happened to beat him to the punch line. 

“So that’s a yes?” He softens, seeing the look in her eyes. The genuine vulnerability. She was scared, putting herself out on the line with no defenses. He knew she didn;t do this often, if at all. 

“S’ a yes pet, where would you like to go to lunch?” He reaches out for her hand, pulling her into him. She slowly wraps her arms around his, burrowing into his chest like she had belonged there this whole time. He wraps her up tight, one arm around her waist, the other cradling her head. She fit perfectly against him, like his body was built just for her. He would like to believe it was but he doesn’t want to get too ahead of himself. 

“I dunno, m’fine with anywhere.” She mumbled, her cheeks squished against him. She feels weird, like she never had before. But a good weird.

Home. 

She felt at home. 

I think that he’s good for me, this boy that I’ve found.

[wrapmeinatortilla]

Chapter 10 - Overprotective Friends Come in Handy

There are three things Y/n knows for certain:

1.) Danielle is her best friend

2.) Her favorite color is pink

3.) And the seven guys showing up in her dreams are hot as hell

When y/n starts college at her dream university, Decelis Academy, her dreams start to fade into reality. Things that are hidden come to light and she starts wishing some would have stayed in the shadows.

Alternatively, you’re thrown into a world of supernatural beings. Are they friends, foes, or lovers? The choice is yours.

Reblogs are appreciated <3

To put it simply, Y/n was not at all excited to be working on this project. In fact, as soon as she entered the library her body was overcome with dread. As soon as she saw the table that Beomgyu was sitting at, his laptop already pulled out in preparation, she could feel herself break out into a cold sweat.

Y/n felt awful about feeling this way. Beomgyu had been nothing but kind to her and probably even made time in his busy schedule to make sure she wouldn't be working on this alone. So Y/n bit her tongue, shook her head of the silly negative thoughts, and pushed on through towards the table.

Beomgyu looked up at Y/n with a charming smile as she sat down across him.

"I'm sorry that I'm a little late, my friend Mark had a little emergency and he needed some help." Y/n spoke. This was a blatant lie on her part. She couldn't just outwardly say that she was late in reality because she was dragging her feet to get here. Besides it was quite easy to throw Mark under the bus with his tummy issues and all.

"It's no problem," Beomgyu replied "you ready to get started?" he said. Y/n nodded, pulling her laptop and psych book out of her bag.

"So the premise of this project is to analyze psychopathy using a famous serial killer as a model. For our presentation we have to have both a powerpoint and a ten minute speech prepared." Y/n recited, scrolling through the projects guideline.

Beomgyu merely hummed in response. "Do you have ideas on who we should do?" Y/n asked, looking up from her laptop at the boy in front of her.

"I think we should stay away from the popular ones like Dahmer and Bundy because they're pretty overdone and everyone in our class is going to choose them." the boy stated. Y/n nodded, he wasn't wrong but that also ruled out easy sources.

"As for who I think we should do," he began, sending a powerpoint to Y/n for her to open, "I think this is our guy."

Y/n opened the powerpoint that Beomgyu had made. Vlad the Impaler stared back at her in big, bolded text. Y/n gulped, her eyes focused entirely on the subject. Beomgyu smirked before breaking her out of her stupor.

"Unless you have any ideas?" he asked innocently, his smirk changing quickly into an inquisitive smile once the girl looked back up at him.

Y/n gave him a strained smile. "No it's fine with me. I'll get a doc ready for our speech." she responded. Dracula. She was going to research dracula. How ironic considering all the dreams she was having recently.

The two worked silently on finding information to use for their project. Y/n tried to pay attention to all the words she was reading, but every time she read the word 'vampire' or 'blood', she could feel herself grow slightly squeamish. Flashes of her dreams played like movies in her head with every word she read about warlord. The thought of Jungwon with his face so close to hers, his smiling face then turning to one with fangs couldn't be shaken from her head. The girl also tried to ignore the stares that the boy would give her every time she breathed a little to short.

"So do you think he really was a vampire?" Beomgyu asked, his question making Y/n stutter in her typing.

"Do I what?" she replied back. Beomgyu shrugged, "Do you really think he was a vampire."

Y/n could feel her breath hitch, "I don't think so no. Vampires don't exist. Now did you find any sources about-"

"What makes you say that?" Beomgyu spoke almost menacingly. Y/n refused to answer, goading more of a response from the boy.

"I mean one could literally be sitting in front of you and you would be none the wiser." Beomgyu continued, his head tilting like a confused puppy. Before Y/n could do anything, her phone rang.

She pulled her phone from her pocket to see Yunjin was calling her.

"Hey"

"Is everything alright? You haven't responded to the groupchat in like an hour."

"Yeah sorry I'm at the library working on a project with Beomgyu"

"You sound a little off...do I need to arrange an emergency extraction?"

"....yeah."

Sobs quickly filled Y/n's speaker causing Y/n to hold her phone away from her ear.

"I can't believe that he blew me off n/n....I thought we were going to be together forever!!!" Yunjin practically screamed.

Y/n would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact that she needed to pretend to be as concerned as possible to get out of here.

"It's okay yunnie! How about I leave a bit early and grab some ice cream on the way home?"

"Please do," Yunjin wailed. Y/n made eye contact with Beomgyu. Giving a sympathetic smile, she packed up her things and left the library, Yunjin's fake sobs still reverberating through her ear. Once Y/n was out of the library she laughed.

"Stood up by a he?" Y/n chuckled.

"Shut up! I am never acting straight for you again." Yunjin pouted.

"I'll still bring you ice cream, meet me at mine?" Y/n asked her footsteps quickening towards the store.

"Yup and you gotta tell me what happened."

Beomgyu sat at the table, starring at the place that Y/n once inhabited, his face devoid of any emotion. His eyes flashed red as he continued to listen to your giggles.

"Oh Y/n...you are such a liar," he spoke softly to himself, "How fun." Beomgyu pulled out his phone to send a quick text before grabbing his things and disappearing entirely.

Chapter 9 ~ Chapter 11

[elfboyeros]

The Cult Vesperine

Hey, welcome/welcome back if you have read my Lloyd x OC content before, I hope you are happy to see Corlette again. The last little story I did was Lloyd confessing his feelings because I was in that headspace but now I am ready to tackle their meeting and Corlette saving from her little cult endeavors.

We are talking about sacrificing and death a little bit and organized religion.

 SPEAKING OF RELIGION! I am NOT attempting to bad-mouth organized religion, I am not making a statement about religion or the Christian system, any parallels are simply because the most well-known nuns are often linked with the Christian faith. Whereas I am not religious and have no history with faith in general,  but if you are Religious in any regard and do not like the fact that I will be writing about a cult that makes mention of a fictional god (Literally a god I have made up) and uses a system similar to the sisterhood of nuns that often found in Christianity that may do some human sacrificing, you can make your exit, I write this is good-faith and dispute not talking a religious class in college I have taken a class on Serial Killers, and we briefly touch on murdering cults, so this isn’t even a one to one of Religious cults.

Anyway, sorry for the long note, please enjoy!

“Do not mess with my girls!”

It sounds quite predatory coming from a man of a religious cloth who is much older than a large percentage of his body of worship. Especially when the “my girls” is how you refer to the nuns.

But it’s also more than that. He’s not telling Lloyd to stay away from the cloister, Father Laurent is telling the green ninja to stay away from one nun specially.

Sister Clover or Corlette Esper.

The bisque-skinned woman around his age, with thick green hair that flows out of her headdress. The only nun taking care of him ever since he ended up on the steps of the church injured from whatever battle he had just escaped.

Hah! Don’t mess with Corlette. Oh, that sounds like a challenge, and Lloyd is up for a little challenge, while in the house of what is looking more in more like a cult.

Simply because meeting her was interesting enough to want to continue knowing. She was gentle and soft, tending to him with such care, engaging in light banter with him as he watched her wrap his wounds, inquiring about his odd scars and seeming willing to listen to his stories. Yet, she often looked dejected and sad.

Now here he is a few weeks since arriving laying in the grass of a darkening courtyard after learning some interesting things from Zane. Replaying his conversation with the ice nindroid over and over in his head.

“They are worshipping a god that is known for curing illness and the being creation of medicine. Yet, reports since the merge about the cathedral of Vesperine indicate that they are displaying more extreme cult-like tendencies.”

“What are you saying, Zane? They are sacrificing people?” Lloyd asked over the phone.

“Individuals in the area have gone missing,” Zane replied.

“So, I should get out of here as soon as possible,” Lloyd remarked.

Zane hummed in agreement, “Sora, Arin, Nya, and myself are traveling to your location as we speak, we’ll be there tomorrow.”

Lloyd’s suspicions, along with jokes made to Corlette in private of nunnery’s little library over history books, are now true and it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

“Do you often sleep in the grass?”

Lloyd opened his eyes looking at Corlette as she stood over him, her voice so tender and quiet.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” he replied sitting up.

“You fooled me,” she giggled, sitting down next to him, “what’s bothering you?”

“How tied are you to your religion?” he asked.

Corlette sighed, “If you asked me before I met you, I would have said I was devoted,” she muttered, “I… I don’t know anymore.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“I…I…”

“Because you can! You can leave, Corlette you may not realize it, but Laurent is disgusting and whether you worship Vesperine or not you should not be near that man!”

“So, if I leave where do I go?” She asked him in a whisper, “The church is all I have!”

“You could come with me,” Lloyd replied quickly, “I’ve already taken in a gaggle of teens, that me and the others are training now. We could always use an herbalist.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Corlette scoffed.

“Because it can be easy!”

“Lloyd,” Corlette sighed shaking her head.

“Corlette, I leave tomorrow! If what I suspect is going on is actually going on you are in danger, and neither Vesperine nor I going to be able to help you!” Lloyd verbalized harshly, “If you come to the monastery with me, I can protect you, all of us can! You can still worship Vesperine if you want to, hell, you can continue to wear the nun habit for all I care! But if you still here—”

“Stop,” Corlette muttered, “Please.”

He stops rambling, looking at her and seeing the melancholy expression, “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You’re not the issue,” she remarked, “I just… I can’t leave… not yet.”

“Then promise me something,” he replied.

Corlette sighed, “What?”

“If things start going sideways, or if you want to leave, give me a call,” Lloyd instructed.

“I promise,” she declared, “I wouldn’t think of calling anyone else.”

That was it,  they went their separate ways for the night, only to see one another the next morning when standing in front of the church.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Lloyd asked, “You can just jump on the Bounty with me and just leave.”

Corlette shook her head after looking around to make sure no one was listening in, “It would be better right now if I stayed here,” she replied.

“My offer still stands, always,” he remarked.

“I’m aware,” Corlette commented, “Your children, look like they need you.”

Lloyd looked behind his shoulder, seeing Sora, Arin, Nya, and even Zane staring at him from the ship all looking in different directions when he stared back at him.

“Call me if you’re in trouble,” he stated, handing her a small piece of paper with his number scrambled on it.

It comes out like a soft demand something that Corlette must do, as if she has no choice.

Corlette nodded, “I would think of calling no one else.”

It was odd saying goodbye, “I’ll see you again, Lloyd.”

He nodded before turning to get on the bounty.

“Is she the new Harumi?” Nya joked once he got settled.

“No,” Lloyd scoffed shaking his head, “She just took care of me while I was there.”

“Does she have healing powers?” Arin asked.

“No, but she’s a very talented herbist,” Lloyd commented.

Nya stared at him for a moment, “what?”

“You have a look on your face.” She replied.

“What face?”

“You’re worried…”

As Corlette watched the bounty travel out of view, she sighed, feeling more separated from all the people here than she had ever had merge or not, she wasn’t like anyone here. Once she was standing in her sorrow she turned, now face to face with Father Lament.

“Father,” she gasped jumping at his closeness, “Sorry I wasn’t aware you were behind me.”

“Sister, I wish to perform a baptism on you,” he said simply.

“Father, but I’ve already been baptized,” she replied cautiously.

“Will you follow me?” Lament asked.

Corlette followed him carefully before being led to a small room with only a white dress laid out on the small bed in the corner of the empty room, and a landline phone on a side table, “Father?”

“Change, and we can perform your baptism,” he stated.

“But I—” the door was shut behind her before she could finish her sentence.

Corlette instantly went for the phone trying her best to be as quiet as possible, using the piece of paper that had been crumbled in her hand, “Hello?”

“You were right,” Corlette huffed in a hushed tone.

“Corlette?”

“I should have left with you! Father Lament says he wants to baptize me, but I’ve been baptized, there is something wrong!”

“Hang in there we’re turning around!”

“Please I’m sort—”

To Lloyd, it sounded like she was hit before the line went dead, “ZANE, TURN AROUND!”

“Lloyd!?”

“TURN AROUND,” he yelled, “Corlette’s in trouble!”

“Corlette?” Nya asked.

“The nun! That cult is I-I-I don’t fucking know, but we have to get back there!” Lloyd raved.

“Alright! Alright!”

On the land of the church is a large and deep lake, now as the skies darken, stands the clergy on one side of the lake and Lament and Corlette on the pier on the other side. The light spring dem and willow green-haired girl with her long-pointed ears and hands tied behind her back as Father Lament preached.

“Corlette the heretic!”

“Corlette the sinner!”

“Corlette the traitor!”

“Sister Corlette the nonbeliever!”

“I AM NOT A TRAITOR!” Corlette screamed struggling against her binds, “I’VE DONE NOTHING BUT WORSHIP VESPERINE FOR YEARS, I GREW UP HERE! I’M NOT A HERETIC!”

Lament pulled the back of her hair, “Then why were you getting friendly with the blonde boy?”

“YOU ASKED ME TO TAKE CARE OF HIM!”

“Taking care of the boy and flirting with him are completely different things,” he whispered.

“I didn’t—AAH!”

“Corlette!” Lloyd yelled.

She looked at the green ninja with such fear in her eyes as she stood on the pier captive.

“Lloyd, are we going to attack a group of nuns?!” Arin asked, as all the nuns watching looked behind their group seeing the ninja, battle-ready.

“… I don’t know,” Lloyd huffed, “just don’t hurt anyone… too bad if it gets too bad.”

“Prevent those heathens from preventing our ceremony!” Lament ordered before the nuns attempted to attempt to grab the ninja.

“BY VESPERINE’S GRACE AND FORTUNE, THE HERETIC SHALL BE THROWN IN THE WATER! IF SHE SHALL SWIM—”

“Lloyd! I’m sorry!” Corlette pleaded after he elbowed a nun in the ribs.

“Why are you apologizing!” Lloyd scoffed running towards the pier, “None of this is your fault!”

Corlette attempted to speak, to justify her apology, yet Laurent pushed her in the lake and of course, Lloyd jumped in after.

“Lloyd jumped in the lake!”  Sora exclaimed.

“What?!”

“LLOYD JUMPED IN THE LAKE!”

Zane, Arin, Sora, and Nya were more focused on the lake, as the nuns and Laurent began burning down the church. Lloyd soon popped out of the lake arm around Corlette dragging her out of the lake. Get her to the bank of the river letting her heave and cough while staring at the grass below her knees.

Lloyd sat beside her heaving, “The church,” he huffed, “Nya, Zane! It’s on fire!”

Nya and Zane tried to stop the fire from spreading as Lloyd continued to stare at Corlette, staring at her hair, the little dark green hair stuck to her face.

“Your hair… is gorgeous,” he sighed.

Corlette began laughing which of course made Lloyd laugh, and they both laughed for a while before Corlette laughter turned into crying leaning against Lloyd as she cried. After the fire was controlled, Corlette went to what used to be her room grabbing the few of her personal belongings that were not burned.

She left with Lloyd and the others still in that stupid white gown, for her sacrifice. Late in the evening, she sat on the deck on the bounty alone, legs close to her chest, staring at the floorboards.

“Corlette,” Lloyd asked softly draping a blanket over her shoulders, “Do you want to change?”

“No.”

He said down next to her, “Are you alright?”

“…no…”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Corlette hugged herself, “I was one of his favorites,” she began making Lloyd cringe, “I guess... I thought… I don’t know what I thought! You really screw things up for me!”

He knows that she’s not angry, “I’m sorry,” he apologized, nonetheless.

Corlette giggled, “you are very charismatic,” she sniffled, “and you did save me, thank you!”

“You don’t have to thank me.”

The ex-nun rested her head on Lloyd’s shoulder, “Can you promise me something?” she asked quietly.

“Mhm?”

“Promise you will always save me.”

“Promise.”

He replied quickly, quicker than he probably should have, yet he intended to keep that promise for the rest of his life.

[moon-spirit-yue]

It's Not Living (if it's Not With You)

Chapter 1: Raya Ran into Some Complications

(TW WARNING!!!!!! This mini series is based heavily on the show Criminal Minds so if murder mysteries and descriptions of that sort of thing are not for you, just don’t read this fic. It’s not like my other fics where I let you know of a small uncomfortable part. I really don’t want to make this fic too horrific and gory, but it will get dark. Basically, if you can get though an episode of Criminal Minds this fic will be fine. These sorts of topics are not for everyone so please just be aware of this if you choose to proceed)

“Please don’t hurt me this way! I have a wife! And a sweet baby boy! How could you be so cruel?!” Raya whimpered, turning her head away from the monster that was trying to torture her.

“God, you are so dramatic,” Noi snorted without looking up from her book. 

“Okay first of all, your “wife” does not count, and second, you don’t have any kids,” Tong began before getting cut off.

“Objection! Tuk Tuk is my beautiful son and I don’t appreciate you acting like he isn’t,” Raya huffed. “And I am married! Sisu and I have the certificate framed and everything! What’s with the judgement? Is it because we’re gay?” 

“I’m pretty sure the judgement is coming from the fact that you two only got married to get grant money for college,” Boun laughed.

“And who the hell asked you, twerp?” Raya glared.

“Your dog and sham marriage do not count,” Tong sighed.

“You know, you’re being awfully negative to someone who literally got shot at this morning,” Raya grumbled as she reluctantly opened her eyes.

“Yeah well, the unsub missed and honestly? I’m kinda wishing he met his mark. Now wake up,” the unit chief scowled. 

“Oh please! We’re the smallest unit in the BAU! If I get shot and go out of commission we’d literally have no choice but to dissolve and relocate to other units,” Raya scoffed. “And you know that Noi despises change.”

“It’s true. My mother used a different kind of cereal to feed me as kid because my usual stuff was out of stock and I protested by refusing to eat breakfast until I got my cereal back,” Noi confirmed.

“And you call me dramatic,” Raya laughed.

The bickering continued like it always did until they finally landed back in Quantico, their beloved home base. The quartet wearily got off the plane single file and entered the FBI building. It was long a flight and they were all ready to crash.

“Hello my dazzling little agents! How is everyone?” Sisu greeted them once they got on their floor.

“Feeling like I’m about to pass out. The guy was maniac. I mean, who carries three guns on their person at all times? Even for a serial killer, it’s a tad excessive,” Boun groaned.

“I do not envy any of you. It’s bad enough I have to see the crime photos, I could not imagine having to see the guy that caused them, let alone capture him,” Sisu shivered.

“This job is certainly not for the faint of heart,” Tong confirmed.

That was the understatement of the year. 

“Agreed. Hey Sisu, can you drive me? If I go behind the wheel I’m scared I’ll fall asleep,” Raya asked.

“Anything for the wife!” Sisu laughed. Boun and Noi had small smiles on their faces as Tong loudly sighed in displeasure.

“The sanctity of marriage is wasted on you people!” Tong declared.

“We’ll get a divorce one day, don’t worry sir,” Raya giggled.

“A man can only dream. Alright, before we all disperse, I do want to say that you all truly outdid yourselves this past week. The unsub did his damn hardest to shake us off, but we managed to pull through. I really am proud of how this team has grown,” Tong said.

The other four agents beamed at his words. As much as the whole team likes picking on each other at every possible opportunity, they really did care about each other and yearned for their boss’s approval. The next words he said were not nearly as uplifting.

“We’re going to need to get in here early tomorrow. We’re all behind on some important documents that have to get on my desk by the end of the month,” the unit chief stated with a stern look on his face. 

“Boooooo!” Boun groaned. 

“Dang it, I thought he forgot about that,” Noi mumbled.

Raya just decided to stick with her classic pout. She’s getting too tired to talk.

“On that note, I’m going home to my wife, that I married for the right reasons,” Tong said, shooting a look at Raya and Sisu. 

The other four then went their separate ways, mumbling some tired goodbyes and see you tomorrows. Sisu had to practically drag Raya to her car and shoved her in. 

“At least stay awake until we get home,” Sisu sighed while starting the car.

“Can we just go to your place for night? Tuk Tuk’s already there and it’s closer,” Raya mumbled.

Tuk Tuk always stayed with Sisu when Raya was out on assignments so she really didn’t feel like relocating him tonight. Plus, she had a good portion of her stuff at Sisu’s anyways.

“I had a feeling you’d say that. Your bed is already made,” Sisu laughed.

“Have I told you that I literally love you?” the agent yawned.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt me to hear it more often,” Sisu laughed. 

“Oh, do you still need help dying your roots?” Raya asked. 

She was now vaguely remembering Sisu asking for her help at some point when she was out on her previous assignment. Considering the fact that some dude with mommy issues damn near killed her, the text was shoved in the back of Raya’s mind for a hot minute.  

“Yeah, but let’s save that for tomorrow. I don’t think you can be trusted with anything permanent right now,” her best friend said, side eyeing how Raya was nodding off.

It took everything in her to muster up the strength to give Sisu a thumbs up, so that’s probably for the best. Raya’s pretty sure she did fall asleep during the brief car ride because she blinked and bam! There was Sisu’s house.

“Carry me,” Raya demanded, slumped over.

“Oh my god,” Sisu groaned

After much pulling and tugging on Sisu’s part, they made it through the front door and was greeted by Tuk Tuk’s little yips of happiness. Raya grinned the second she saw her fluffy puppy and began pressing kisses on his furry face.

“I missed you, my beautiful baby! Oh yes I did! Yes I did!” Raya cooed as her precious pup licked her cheek.

“I’m gonna turn in. Anything you need?” Sisu asked her.

“Uh, can you drop Tuk and I off at our house before work? I just got the notification that my package got delivered and it is dangerously unsupervised right now. Other than that I’m good,” Raya explained.

“That’s fine. See you tomorrow, bestie. Love you! And I love you too Tuk!” Sisu said while scratching his fluffy ears.

“We love you too. Night!” Raya waved as she walked into her designated room.

She kicked off her shoes and changed her clothes before immediately flopping on the bed. Raya heard Tuk Tuk jump on the bed and snuggled right next to her. She multitasked by using one hand to pet her dog and the other to text her father she’s back in Quantico, safe and sound. 

One of the major downsides of this job is knowing her father is going into cardiac arrest whenever a case pops up. He tried to convince her for weeks not to take the job but alas, her mind was made up. So then Benja decided to force to send texts when she left for a case and when she came back. Raya carelessly tossed her phone on the other side of the bed once the message was sent and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

****************************

The best way to wake up is seeing Tuk Tuk’s adorable face right beside her. Man, she missed this dog. 

Raya had to speed through her morning routine to get out the door at a reasonable hour. Ushering Sisu to get moving, Raya and Tuk Tuk were already waiting in her car by the time she got in.

“You know, you’re a lot less pushy when you’re tired,” Sisu huffed while driving off.

“It’s not my fault someone’s stealing packages from people’s doorsteps!” Raya exclaimed.

“You’re a profiler, catch them!” Sisu snapped.

“Too busy tracking down serial killers, thank you,” Raya told her.

“I hope you have an extra load of paperwork to finish,” Sisu glared.

“You are so hateful in the morning,” Raya frowned. 

They made it to Raya’s front door with no serious injuries, so she grabbed Tuk Tuk and made her way home.

“Do you want me to wait for you?” Sisu yelled.

“I’m good! See you in the office!” Raya yelled back.

Her beloved wife nodded and proceeded to drive to work. Raya turned her attention to where her packages get dropped off at. 

She absolutely beamed at seeing her mail sitting there, unstolen by the neighborhood thief. Raya grabbed the package and tapped the passcode lock combo to let herself and Tuk in.

Raya awkwardly opened the door to let Tuk Tuk in first and kicked her package in the house. Stumbling in herself, she gave the house a quick clean from it’s lack of use. Once Raya finished eating cereal straight from the box, she was already back out the door.

“Tuk Tuk, take care of the house for me while I’m gone, will ya?” Raya asked the little pup. He gave a bark in response which in Raya’s mind meant he totally agreed to her task. 

“I love you bud! See you tonight!” Raya said before locking up her house and getting into her car.

The FBI building wasn’t that far away but of course it was far away enough to hit some major morning traffic. Patience isn’t exactly where Raya shines. She didn’t even have the time to go to her favorite coffee place.

Finally, she was able to make her exit and entered the building of her workplace. She walked up to her desk to be greeted with Boun and Noi arguing over what case they think will be chosen next.

“I’m telling you, those murders down in Texas have to be serial! There’s just too many gun related deaths!” Noi exclaimed. 

“No way, there’s several missing people in North Carolina that have never returned for the past couple weeks! Oh Raya, you’re here! Hey, which case do you think is the next one?” Boun asked as she plopped into her small cubicle.

“No clue. Have either of you guys started your paperwork just at a curiosity?” Raya asked, pulling over her papers. 

Noi and Boun looked at each other guiltily before scrambling to get their own papers out. Raya snorted and shook her head before focusing in on her own work. Those two remind her of actual kids and the fact that they’re both younger than her doesn’t help.

The day was an uncommonly quiet one. Tong summoned them all near the end of it to discuss the files they had to get through in one of the meeting rooms.

“We did make good progress on what we finished today, but there’s still a hell of a lot more to be done. I highlighted which ones are top priority and we need to-” Tong began but was cut off by a random voice.

“SSA Spine, I’m very sorry to interrupt, but someone needs to speak to one of your agents,” the person told them.

“Did any of you have plans for company?” Tong asked with a raised brow. 

The other four agents shook their head while giving each other looks. Who on earth could be looking for one of them? 

“Well which agent do they need? And who’s asking?” Tong questioned further.

“Oh, Virana Fang wanted to speak with Agent Heart,” the woman said.

Raya’s blood somehow chilled and boiled at the same time. Seriously, Virana? Of all the fucking people that could meet with her? 

“Isn’t she like, a big time attorney? Raya, did you get into someone legal trouble?” Boun asked with furrowed brows.

“No, no I did not get into legal troubles. We know each other from uh, I guess when I was in college. And let me tell you, she is not a fan of mine. The fact that she’s here is honestly making me feel rather nervous,” Raya frowned. 

“Oh my god, I remember her! Man, she did not like you,” Sisu scoffed.

“Did Mrs. Fang say what exactly she wanted?” Tong asked.

“No, all she said was that it was urgent,” the woman answered.

“Do you want to tell her you aren’t available? I’m not entirely sure what’s going on but I can see your hackles raised, Raya,” Tong said with concern. Raya stood up from her chair.

“There’s no point. The woman’s relentless. If she says she wants to see me, she will see me. I have a feeling I am not going to like this conversation,” the agent sighed as she reluctantly followed the woman.

“Do you want one of us to come with you?” Noi inquired.

“That’s fine. I can take her in a fight,” Raya joked as she left the room. 

Once the door got closed behind her, she allowed the dread to kick. Tong was right, her hackles were raised. What the hell could Virana possibly want with her? 

Raya’s arms were crossed and her jaw clenched as she approached Virana. Oh, how Raya loathed her regal, menacing face. The older woman looked professional and impeccable as Raya has always known her to be. Never a speck of dirt on her clothes nor a strand of her hair out place. Confidence and ferocity ooze from her every pore, ready to suffocate anyone that tries to challenge her. This is how Virana Fang presents herself. 

But the Virana Fang Raya is currently looking at doesn’t have the usual intensity she frequently possesses. Instead she looks around anxiously, like something terrible is about to happen. The agent can’t find it in herself to feel any sort of sympathy for this woman. 

“Virana Fang. Why have you come to haunt me on this otherwise peaceful afternoon?” Raya drawled. Mrs. Fang almost seemed startled to find Raya standing right in front of her.

“I do not have time for your typical unnecessary remarks. Look, I want to keep this as short as possible. The bottom line is, I need your help,” Virana whispered quickly.

“I’m sorry, you need my help? Me? Raya Heart? My help?” Raya asked, utterly baffled. Virana stiffly nodded in response. 

Raya blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then she smiled. A smile turned to a laugh. What kind of bullshit is she playing at?

“Does it sound like I’m joking? What punchline did I just deliver?” the woman hissed. 

“Oh come on, I’m sure even you can see the irony in this? I mean you asked for my help, Mrs. Fang! God that’s hilarious!” Raya laughed. She honestly can’t take this situation seriously. “You know, it’s probably best if you just go. I thought I could get through this conversation but I think I overestimated myself. Please, have the day you deserve.”

Raya shook her head and turned away but the other woman’s hand stopped Raya. The agent looked back and saw how desperate Virana really looked. Before the agent could respond, Virana decided to speak words that alarmed her even more.

“Listen, I am well aware that in a perfect world, we never see each other again, but this world is not perfect. In a perfect world, my daughter would not be in danger,” Virana hissed in a frenzy.

This conversation could not get any more insane. What on earth was going on with Namaari? If Raya had any doubts about helping the lawyer, they were all gone now.

While her and Namaari weren’t exactly having sleepovers and braiding each other’s hair, Raya still cares about her. Plus, Namaari was certainly in better standing with her than Virana. (Then again, the raccoon that dug around in Raya’s trash last week was in better standing with her than Virana so that didn’t really mean much.)

“Fine, I’ll bite. Why is Namaari in danger?” Raya asked with annoyance. 

“Because a serial killer is after her. That’s why I came to you, considering the fact that catching them is your job,” the older told her in a low voice.

The agent’s jaw dropped. A serial killer? After Namaari? Well, to be fair, Namaari is a lawyer so it’s entirely possible a client is out for revenge? 

“How can you be so sure? I assume you came with evidence because this is not something I can just take your word for,” Raya managed to ask.

“Of course I came with proof, but I would prefer to speak of this in a more private setting,” Virana requested. First reasonable thing she’s said since she got here.

“Follow me,” the agent relented. Raya spend up the stairs to the conference room her team was in with Virana hot on her heels. 

“Hey, sir, can I use your office really quickly? It’s important,” Raya asked while gesturing to Virana.

“Of course,” Tong nodded while giving the two of them a suspicious glance. She is so getting interrogated when this conversation is over.

Raya then walked to Tong’s office and closed the door behind her once Virana stepped in. The agent sat on the little couch in the office with crossed arms.

“Lay it on me, Fang. Why do you think a serial killer is coming for Namaari?” Raya asked. 

Virana opened her briefcase and pulled out two envelopes. She handed them both to Raya. 

“Just look at the cases with those two girls that have unfortunately passed away. I’m sure you’ll realize I’m right,” Virana said while sitting on the chair across from her.

The lawyer said it in such a haughty way that it made Raya really hope that there isn’t a case for more than just Namaari’s safety. The agent took the two envelopes from her and opened the first one.

The first girl’s name was Anchali Chakan. She was born in Nebraska, moved to New York when she was ten, then transferred to a college in Maryland where she’s lived ever since. She got married only three months ago to her long time girlfriend, now wife. Or, now widow. A relatively normal upbringing from what Raya can tell. She had dreams of being an artist and made some very impressive pieces before her passing. Now that Raya knows the basics about this girl, it’s time to get into the actual crime that was committed.

Yikes. That is the first word that comes into her mind when she saw the picture of this woman’s untimely death. Raya doesn’t care how many cases she comes across, she will never get over all the horrible ways people kill. 

The murder happened in her house on March 1st. The place where she’s meant to feel safest. There was bruises around Anchali’s neck, an obvious sign of strangulation. Medical reports say that her windpipe got crushed which was the cause of her death. But alas, the atrocities did not stop there. There was an arrow that went straight through her neck. The only thing that made that detail a little less horrific was the fact that the arrow was stabbed into her neck post mortem. Raya cringed, shook her head, and went on to the second case.

The second woman is Cai Lan. She grew up in New York and stayed there until her last days. Unlike Anchali, Cai was born into poverty and had to claw her way out. She had been a foster kid since she was five, homeless for a period time in her late teens, went into massive debt getting into college, and had to live in an RV until three years ago. Cai did manage to make her way into upper society by scoring a manager position at a financial firm.

Cai’s murder occurred exactly one month after the first one, April 1st. It took place in Cai’s home just like Anchali’s. Again, just like Anchali’s murder, Cai was also strangled to death and ended up with an arrow through her neck post mortem. Looking closer at the arrow, Raya was disturbed to find that there was a heart at the front of the arrow. She glanced back at Anchali’s crime scene and found the heart was at the front of her arrow as well. 

Was the killer trying to imitate cupid’s bow? Ah, shit. This case is one hundred percent serial. But Raya still can’t see the connection with Namaari.

“I will give credit where credit is due, this is a serial case. Even though it crosses state lines, the signature is way too specific to be the average murder. I still don’t understand what this has to do with Namaari, though,” Raya sighed, looking up at Virana.

“Both of these girls are Namaari’s ex-girlfriends. Their break ups were very friendly and the two of them stayed in contact with Namaari after their relationships had ended. It’s how she became aware of their passing,” Virana said. 

For the first time since she entered the office, Virana had a mournful look on her face. Raya may have actually found it in her to feel bad for her but there was a very serious problem at hand. Then the attorney handed Raya another envelope, though this one was much smaller.

The very stressed agent opened it up and felt all color drain from her face. There was two plastic baggies with strands of hair. One strand of hair was significantly lighter than the other.

“Please tell me these weren’t mailed to you,” Raya begged, looking up at her. Virana’s grim face told her everything she needed to know.

“Two days after Anchali was killed, we got this bag with the light brown hair. News of her death hadn’t reached us yet, so we weren’t quite sure what to make of it and sent it to the police for investigation and figured out who it belonged to. Same thing with Cai,” Virana told her.

Wordlessly, the agent pulled out her phone to check the date. All the color drained from her face when she saw that today’s date is May 1st. 

“Follow me, we don’t have much time,” Raya commanded.

Raya gathered all of the evidence presented and all but sprinted out of the room. The older woman quickly followed suit. The two of them barreled into the conference office where her teammates were sitting. They all flinched when Raya tossed all the information of this new case on the desk. 

“Listen up people, we have to get through this quickly. Here you see two girls going by the names of Anchali Chakan and Cai Lan. The connection between their murders is the fact that they were both in a romantic relationship with Namaari Fang. They both died from strangulation. Part of the unsub’s signature is to put an arrow through their victim’s neck after they passed,” Raya said, talking a mile a minute.

“So it’s personal. Is, is that a heart at the tip of the bow?” Noi frowned, pulling the photo closer to her.

“Yeah, I think it’s supposed to reference Cupid’s bow. Namaari also received a strand of both the women’s hair two days after they were killed. These murders occurred on the first of March and April. Considering the fact that today is May 1st...,” Raya trailed off.

“We need to act now. I don’t like the fact that she’s been getting gifts or that the unsub knows where she lives. No need to bother collaborating with any local PD, this crosses state lines so we have full jurisdiction,” Tong began, explaining what he’s read in the files. “It’s safe to say that the unsub is targeting those who have had a romantic relationship with Namaari. They’ve also been going in order of who Namaari dated. She was with Chakan from eighth to ninth grade and then Cai from eleventh to twelfth grade. Mrs. Fang, was Namaari with anyone in the time period between Ms. Chakan and Ms. Lan?”

“Uh, kind of. After her break up with Anchali, I got word she did date a couple of other girls but they were just attempts at forming a relationship. Her next real girlfriend was Cai,” Virana answered immediately.

“Okay, looks like the unsub focuses on official relationships. Who did Namaari date after Ms. Lan?” Tong asked.

Raya could have sworn that Virana eyes landed on her before returning to focus on Tong. Must have been a trick of the light.

“From what I’m aware of, the only other girlfriend she had is her now fiancé, Jintara Niran,” Virana told him.

“But you’re not sure?” Tong pressed.

“No, I’m not,” the lawyer confirmed.

“First, please write down your daughter’s address. I take it her and her fiancé live together?” Tong asked. Virana nodded and hastily wrote it down. 

“Perfect. Now I need you to call your daughter and ask if she has had any other serious girlfriend between Ms. Lan and her fiancé and that she needs to be completely honest. If we’re right, she could very well be killed tonight,” Tong instructed. 

Virana turned rather pale at the last statement but nodded nonetheless. She walked out of the room and grabbed her phone, calling her daughter outside. Tong turned to the rest of the group with a serious look in his eyes.

“Okay, Sisu, you head to the computers and start sending police to stand guard at Ms. Fang’s and Ms. Niran’s house right now. If Mrs. Fang is right, the unsub is going for Niran next,” Tong began, but Sisu was practically out the door by the time he was finished with his sentence.

“Boun, I want you to just get to their address and kick start the process of asking them questions. Plus, I want one of our people to be with them as soon as possible,” Tong told him.

“On it!” Boun confirmed, launching himself out of his seat.

“Noi, stay with Virana and get whatever else you can out of her while simultaneously giving her some comfort. I’ll head out to the local PD where they live. It’s only two hours away but we should set up shop there anyways. Two hours can easily be the difference between life and death,” the agent told the only girls left.

“You got it boss man!” Noi nodded.

“And Raya, you know those case files I had you look at for review?” Raya nodded, causing Tong to continue. “I want you to get those files then head to the local PD with Boun. There’s a case in there similar to this one so we can get a better idea of how to handle this.”

“Understood, sir. I’ve got it covered,” Raya told him while rushing to get out of the room. 

Holy shit. Someone has been killing Namaari’s ex girlfriends. This was not on Raya’s 2023 bingo card.

As Raya glided down the stairs, she passed by both Noi and Virana conversing. Before she could leave the floor, Virana spoke to her.

“Ms. Heart!” the lawyer exclaimed. 

“What is it?” Raya asked anxiously.

“Please, just be careful,” Virana almost begged. Ah hell, that is so weird.

“Of course. I always am,” Raya told her confidently. With that, Raya turned around and dashed out of there.

The agent all but sprinted to her car. Once the car started, she began driving like a bat out of hell to get to her house. Because what on god’s green earth is happening right now?

When Raya got back home, she didn’t even bother locking her car before throwing her front door open.

Raya stood at the door for a moment, completely forgetting where she put the files. Then her brain started working again and she remembered that she shoved them underneath the dryer.

As Raya walked towards the kitchen, something made her pause. Is, is something burning?

Side tracked from her original mission, she found that the stove was turned on. That shouldn’t be possible. It wasn’t turned on this morning when she first got here and Raya’s breakfast was cereal straight from the bag. She did not touch the oven.

Tuk Tuk then made his entrance by running right by Raya and her fears quickly disappeared. Her big old dog probably accidentally knocked into the stove and turned it on. It has happened before. 

“Hey bud. Were you trying to make some dinner for yourself while I was gone? I should probably feed you anyways,” Raya smiled, giving him a light scratch on the ears. Before Raya could blink, she was pinned against the wall by someone wearing a mask.

It took a couple seconds before she realized that this masked man now had their hands wrapped around Raya’s throat, slowly squeezing the life right out of her. 

[ethereal27cereal]

I posted 2,077 times in 2022

That's 2,077 more posts than 2021!

81 posts created (4%)

1,996 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@wroteclassicaly

@ladyfogg

@thisishellfire

@boomhauer

@littledemondani

I tagged 1,468 of my posts in 2022

Only 29% of my posts had no tags

#eddie munson - 551 posts

#joseph quinn - 428 posts

#reese recs - 366 posts

#eddie munson x reader - 230 posts

#at least my queue is organized - 212 posts

#joe quinn - 181 posts

#queue pew pew - 134 posts

#eddie munson smut - 101 posts

#eddie munson x plus size reader - 97 posts

#writing inspo - 82 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#she’s shy and reserved and he’s constantly doing stuff to annoy her just to bring her out of her shell and see if he can get a smile

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Forever, right? - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie has just met your parents, and it went...well...well kind of. With a few words of encouragement and sweet comfort, Eddie has the courage to confess some pretty big feelings and decides the next steps in your relationship. This is a part 2 to Curls but can be read on its own.  

warnings: smut 18+ MINORS DNI. established relationship, kissing, breast play, semi-public sex (in Eddie’s van), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up and be safe 👍🏻), orgasm (m and f),  reader is implied as plus size but doesn’t have to be read that way, reader has relationship with both parents, even though they are judgmental and a bit old fashioned, brief mention of criminals and serial killers (nothing graphic), I think that is it but let me know if I missed something.

request: Thank you to the lovely anon who sent me this: i loved curls! i know it was a one shot but i'd love more from them. like maybe them talking on the drive home after meeting your parents and ofc the engagement. They didn’t quite get to to the drive home part (😈) but I hope you like it. 

genre: angst, fluff, smut

word count: 6.1K

author’s note: I wasn’t planning on a part 2, but I just didn’t feel like I was ready to be done with these two sappy little cuties, and I got a few requests for more so here we are. I wanted to make it so you could read this without having read Curls, so there are a few callbacks and things to make it cohesive. I also wasn’t planning on making it at all angsty, but I just couldn’t imagine a world where reader’s parents didn’t judge him at least a little. 😈 Thank you to @boomhauer and @kissmecaiti for talking me through all the angsty little thoughts I had and giving me inspiration. 

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511 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

#4

Listen to the Trees - Eddie Munson x Plus Size Reader -  Friends to Lovers

summary: Spending your long weekend home from college reading Tolkien with your childhood best friend, Eddie. Couldn't want anything more. Except you do. You want Eddie, more than just friends, but when the words don't ever seem to come out and you miss your train home, things get interesting...

warnings: little bit of perv!Eddie (he masturbates thinking about reader), nothing else really of note - this is pretty much just sappy fluff with two sweet stupid friends who don’t admit how much they love one another

genre: friends to lovers, fluff, little tiny smut

word count: 6.1k

author's note: I was inspired by a prompt I saw on @glasswriter1 "I missed the last train, and it is all because of you and your obsession with speaking trees!" and I just immediately thought of Eddie and his love of LOTR. This totally ends on a major cliffhanger so if you all are into it I have more to come. Asks are always open for any feedback 💚

part 2

The sweet solace of Eddie’s room is a welcome respite from the bitter chill of fall, the wind threatening against the thin windows of his trailer. Your long weekend home from college is almost up, not nearly enough time to spend with your childhood best friend and he is trying to consume every last possible second with you before your train leaves from Indianapolis. Taking you back to Chicago, back to the drudgery of school and work, and too far away from Eddie. 

Bonding over fantasy lands and banding together as outcasts usually do, Eddie and you had been inseparable since that first moment you shared your lunch with him in 1st grade. You and Eddie had shared everything together since then; snacks, movie marathons, study notes, hopes and dreams, fears and secrets, looks that lingered too long for people who were supposed to be just friends. 

Everything changed when you had decided to pursue an art history education in Chicago, wanting to get at least a little breathing space from Hawkins, and Eddie had stayed put, taking some vocational courses at the community college and working at Thatcher Tires. Late night phone calls and a stream of handwritten letters did little to fill the Eddie-sized gap in your life, only leaving a crater-sized chasm right in the middle of your chest. No friendship or sexual partner in college could ever muster up enough mortar to fill the cracks he created. No other man could ever match the way Eddie looked at you, deep coffee-colored pools of wonder and awe like you were the most captivating creature he’d ever seen. 

Your romantic feelings for Eddie had bubbled up slowly, like a geyser waiting to erupt. They had always been there in some way or another, simmering under the surface as the years of friendship went on. He was your best friend, your protector from all the chaos in your life, your guiding moon in the dark night. He had always been there for you and you for him, but you didn’t know just how much you felt for him until the distance and separation made you reflect on everything that could’ve been. You were never sure if he felt the same way about you, you’d never had the courage to bring it up and it certainly wasn’t ever a topic he approached. He was always the affectionate, touchy type with the people he was closest to, so you had been resigned to the fact that you were just one of the guys to him. 

The long holiday weekend had given the perfect excuse to make the train ride home. You told yourself were going to visit family and friends, but you knew from the moment Eddie scooped you into his arms at the train station, trying to hide the tears that were edging their way out of the corners of his chocolate brown eyes, that you would be spending every waking moment of the weekend with Eddie. 

And there you are, lying propped up on your side on Eddie’s bed, covered in blankets that smell like smoke and the cheap cologne you had gotten him for his birthday last year, trying to tame a pending eruption of emotions inside you while staring and attempting to listen as he talks animatedly about everything and nothing all at once. 

“Earth to Y/N?” Eddie asks, shifting forward from his upright position against the pillows to wave his hand playfully in front of you. 

“Hmm, what? I’m listening,” you insist, adjusting your position so you’re sitting up fully facing him now. 

“Sure you are. Then what did I say,” he smirks, his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“You were talking about speaking trees, Ents. And how you’re going to use them in an upcoming campaign with the guys you met at college,” you reply confidently, matching his challenging pose with your own as you sit up and cross your arms, the blankets shrugging off your shoulders.

“So you did catch some of it!! But I literally just asked you a question about said Ents. You gonna answer it, since you were listening so super carefully there, Sunshine?” his pet name for you rolling off his tongue with a tart sweetness that makes you giggle.

“Ok fine, you got me. I zoned off for a second. I was thinking about what time we need to leave to get to the train station on time,” your words not entirely a lie, but also not exactly what you had been ruminating about. “What did you ask me, sorry?” 

“Do you remember the Entwives?,” his face softens into a smile with your apology. You do indeed remember the Entwives, in fact you’re pretty sure you were the one who had brought them up to him during one of your many rereadings of The Two Towers, finding it so achingly sad that there would be never be a reunion between the Ents and their wives who had gone to plant beautiful gardens only to be killed or enslaved when Sauron burned through the land. 

“I think I remember them, but remind me please,” you smile coyly, knowing the information he’s about to share but truly wanting to hear what he has to say. 

“Well Treebeard thinks that the wives are lost forever after they moved to the Brown Lands to plant and grow smaller things and were wiped out by Sauron. But remember how Merry and Pippin say they’ve seen an Ent, or Entwife, walking north of the Shire?” he wiggles his eyebrows dramatically, waiting for your response. An uncontrollable shiver hits you, realizing just how cold the room was without the cocoon of blankets, but you nod, teeth chattering. 

“Jesus, Sunshine, how’d you already manage to wiggle outta that blanket burrito I made for you. Come ‘ere, I feel like a furnace right now so I’ll share some warmth,” he motions for you to lay in between his outstretched legs, untwisting the blankets and folding them back for you to crawl under. You stare down at his form, frayed light wash jeans hugging his slender frame, faded black t-shirt riding up to expose the soft trail of curls that disappear into his waistband as he reaches his arms out for you in a grabby motion. You want nothing more than to curl against his chest and tell him how much you missed him, missed his touch, your skin melting against his, missed the feelings you get when you’re around him, sealing all your words and feelings with a passionate first kiss. But you don’t do that. You can’t. Not now at least. Instead, you just burrow yourself into his lap, letting out a contented sigh as he wraps the blankets around you tightly and you rest your head on the soft cushion of his lower stomach.

“So, for my campaign, I’m going to have one of my players see an Entwife while they’re out on the road. Or I guess a treant wife because they’re called treants in D&D. Anyway, the wives aren’t really all dead, they’ve just been in hiding or hibernation or something, I’m still figuring out that idea. But then the party gets a summons from the treant that is the guardian of the local forest that there have been several sightings of the wives and the party is sent off on a quest to find them,” Eddie’s words tumble from his lips in a babbling flow, hands gesturing wildly then coming to rest softly on your covered shoulder. “What do you think? Does that sound cool or totally lame? I need some trademark Sunshine honesty here,” his voice anxious as he coaxes out your answer, always valuing your opinion even when it would come out a little harsher than you meant, which it often did. 

“I think that sounds like the start of a totally awesome quest. If I weren’t so far away, you know I would want to jump in on that campaign in a heartbeat,” you answer honestly, looking up into his pleading brown eyes.

“I wish you could play in my campaigns again too,” he echoes with a playful pout, but you can see the truth behind his eyes. He has missed you too, he says so several times throughout the weekend. But you are sure it’s not in the same way that you missed him. 

“There is a D&D club on campus and I tried to join in on one of their campaigns, but the DM was…creepy,” you admit quietly, ice cold fingers creeping out from under the blankets to toy with the hem of his shirt.

“Even weirder than little ‘ol me?” he grins and you nod, the movement of your cheek against his shirt causing it to shift up and expose that deliciously inviting swath of flesh and delicate curls. “Creepy how?” he urges you to go on, his eyes fixed to where your fingers are pulling loose threads from the worn patch just above the front pocket of his jeans, inching closer to his tummy with each thread yanked away.

“He just made it weird. Like the only thing he focused on about my character was the fact that I was the only woman on the adventuring party, and it was all heaving bosoms and dirty jokes at my expense. I played like two sessions and then never showed my face again,” you admit with an injured chuckle, and Eddie jolts forward, though you’re unsure if it’s from your words or your frosty fingers suddenly making contact with the bare skin of his midriff. 

“Christ, your fingers feel like icicles,” his whole body stiffens, a sharp intake of breath as you swirl your fingers playfully against his alabaster skin. “That is super shitty about the club and the DM. Many guy DMs are weird lonely losers, but can be surprisingly real pricks whenever they have a real live lady in their presence, especially one as pretty, scary, and charmingly  intimidating as you Sunshine,” his voice stiff but he boops your nose playfully, still wincing away from your frigid touch.

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552 notes - Posted September 14, 2022

#3

Constellations - Eddie Munson x Plus Size Female Reader Series

series masterlist

part 2/?

summary: After an eventful evening at the Battle of the Bands, Eddie provides some comfort and distraction at the diner, but the date isn’t over just yet. He has more planned and it gets a little....heated.

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI! Eddie and reader are both 18+, mentions of previous sexual assault, mentions of absent parents (kinda?), brief body insecurities, pet names, little touch starved Eddie, basically just a whole bunch of kissing and heavy petting, then fingering, oral f receiving, orgasm f and m

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 8.6k (again, brevity is not my strong suit)

author’s note: I am so grateful for all the support and nice comments I received on part one, I really wasn’t expecting it to get much traction at all so I’m so thankful for all the positive feedback. I also have to thank @boomhauer for the tiddy wrangler line 🙏🏼 I have not written smut for 10 years so if this totally sucks, I am very sorry. 🫣

Eddie parked the van in a small clearing in the trees on the banks of Lover’s Lake. You had been there a few times during the day, soaking up some of the summer rays and tucking into a good book, but the lake looked entirely different by the light of the moon. Shadows play in the gaps between the trees, eerie silence save a few hooting owls and crunching of branches as other woodland creatures scurry about under the cover of inky blackness.

Eddie dramatically shifts in the driver’s seat once the van has lurched into park, turning to face you and clapping his hands together. “Ok, so, lay it on me babe. What do you know about metal music? What have you heard that you like?”

“Hmm, I’ve listened to a few Iron Maiden songs, ‘Phantom of the Opera’ and ‘The Trooper’. I actually liked a few Metallica songs that Holly played for me, I just can’t remember the names,” you list a few basics, hoping he was ready for your very beginner level knowledge on the subject. You lean back in your seat to face him, watching curiously as his eyes go wide, grinning and drumming his hands against the steering wheel.

“Alright, okay, I can work with that,” he chews his bottom lip in thought as he rummages through the tapes and general debris that scatter the front seat of the van. “Sorry ‘bout the mess, I don’t usually have company, especially company as pretty as you. Now where the fuck did I…aha!”  Eddie triumphantly holds up an Iron Maiden tape, Piece of Mind scrawled across it in calligraphy with what looks like a zombie in chains lunging towards you.

“Yikes, he’s a bit creepy, isn’t he,” you suppose, tapping the case gently as if not to wake the creature lurking inside.

“That’s Eddie.”

“What?” you give him a quizzical look, head tilting to the side.

“I’m not being funny, that’s just the band’s mascot or whatever. His name is Eddie, pretty sweet name I think,” he beams, sarcasm lacing his tone as he inserts the cassette into the tape deck, careful to turn down the volume a touch, not wanting to burst your eardrums on the first music education lesson. “Are you ready to have your mind blown, sweetheart?” You nod and smile, the epic guitar and drums of the first song already beginning to thrum through your veins, goosebumps shivering down your arms as you let yourself relax and enjoy the music. It isn’t half bad, your body can’t help but move to the beat, subtle toe taps and head bobs with Eddie watching you intensely.

“So, give me your honest review. Do I have a convert or am I going to have to work a little harder than that?” Eddie presses as the first song comes to an end.

“I’m not completely sold, I think I’d still prefer to listen to New Order over Iron Maiden, but I am trying to be more open and accepting of new things. Hit me with the next song, my body is willing and ready,” your words playing tricks on you as they make their way out of your mouth, blood already thumping hot in your ears, staring agape at Eddie for his response.

“Christ, Y/N, well if you put it that way,” he cackles, his whole body in motion as the laughter shakes him.

“Let me rewind,” you make a babbling sound as if imitating a video tape rewinding, only causing Eddie to laugh louder and your cheeks to flame an even brighter shade of pink. “I just mean that my ears are ready for the music. My body is ready too, for you. I mean, I’m willing to be ready for whatever you want to do to me. Fuck. Shit. I’m going to stop talking now, just play the song and let me slowly slip away into my grave, please.” You shrink down in your seat, flopping the leather jacket over your face in shame as you hear Eddie’s laughter begin to fade out into a soft wheezy chuckle.

“Hey, hey, come back here, sweetheart. You can’t make a spicy confession like that and then just hide from me,” Eddie’s voice saccharine and playful as he tosses the jacket off of you, his finger curling under your chin to bring your eyes to look at him. “I’m glad you feel that way, knuckles. I will definitely be keeping that in mind for future reference,” he whispers, his thumb ghosting towards the plumpness of your bottom lip, his eyes flickering down to follow the steady path his thumb is trailing. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, expecting his lips to meet yours within moments, but he doesn’t. You open your eyes to see him adjusting the volume on the stereo as another song comes to a crescendo, trying to hide the fact that he is peeking at you behind the curtain of his hair. Your lips purse into a thin line as you quickly look out the window, wondering if you have just misread the situation or maybe scared him off a little with how quickly you were willing to let him into your pants.

“Oh this is the best part,” Eddie hums softly and turns the volume knob, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as a shrieking guitar solo wails from the speakers, ignoring whatever awkward exchange that had just been.

The next few songs play, but Eddie doesn’t ask for your opinion again. He smiles and nods  when he sees your foot tapping through the chorus of “Flight of Icarus”, but he seems especially preoccupied with chewing on the loose skin around his thumbnail and reorganizing the center console.

After the final notes of “The Trooper'' echo through the speakers of the stereo, Eddie begins to get fidgety, gnawing raw red marks around the edges of his fingernails, bouncing his leg enough to shake the entire van as he looks over at you every few seconds, like you might suddenly disappear before his eyes. Without a word of warning, he suddenly scrambles to the back of the van, conjuring up a couple of blankets, a boombox, and a handful of cassette tapes, returning with a grin. “Wanna get high and look at the stars?” he blurts out, pulling out a little bag that was tucked in the inside pocket of his jacket and giving it a shake.

With a nod, you both tumble out of the van, quickly setting up the blankets in a plush arrangement in the soft grass that slowly slopes down to the sandy beach. Eddie’s deft fingers quickly rolling up a joint, licking the paper and pressing it neatly before bringing it to his lips to light. The earthy tang assaults your nostrils and makes your eyes sting momentarily as he takes the first drag, passing it over to you, fingers brushing in a moment that seems to last for an eternity.

~*~

You both develop a steady rhythm of passing the joint back and forth, settling back on the soft cushion of the blankets. You gaze up at the obsidian blanket above you, the blunt dangling haphazardly in between your lips, in awe of just how many stars there are. Of course, you knew there were millions of stars in the Milky Way, but they didn’t seem to shine as brightly in the city as they do on the banks of Lover’s Lake. The sticky sweet taste of strawberry milkshake lingering in your mouth, the crackling burn of the weed as it began to seep into your lungs and invade your senses, the gentle warmth of Eddie’s arm pressing against yours.

“There’s Cassiopeia, looks kind of like a W. Then right below her, it’s sometimes hard to make out, but there’s Cepheus and Draco,” Eddie’s pointer finger juts out to gesture at a cluster of shining stars that when strung together look a bit like a squiggly snake and a box with a triangle on top. “And of course right above Cassiopeia is their daughter, Andromeda. Kind of fucked that she’s forever bound to be next to her parent’s after what they did to her,” he rattles off the details eagerly, licking his lips as he scans the stars for other constellations and takes another puff off the quickly shrinking joint before extinguish it carefully in the damp grass next to him. You try to follow where his fingers are tracing patterns, connecting dots and telling stories, but you find it hard to turn your attention toward anything other than his face. His left eye squinting shut, pink tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, his features softening as the boyish enthusiasm takes over.

“How do you know so much about Greek mythology and constellations?” your voice a whisper, as if not wanting to disturb the hushed peacefulness of the night air.

“Uhh, I got a little obsessed with the idea of the Underworld as a setting for one of my D&D campaigns in high school. That led to reading stories about Hades and Persephone, and before I knew it I had checked out every book the library had to offer about Greek myths and legends,” Eddie responds, his fingers absently twirling into the loose threads of the blanket underneath you both.  

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567 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

#2

Knuckles - Eddie Munson x Plus Size Female Reader

series masterlist 

part 1/?

summary: Your summer spent with a best friend in Hawkins has thus far been uneventful. An impulsive outing to the Battle of the Bands competition and an unfortunate chain of events sends Eddie hurdling into your life and you are more than happy to make space for him there. A little hurt comfort, a lotta sweet fluff, and there will definitely be at least a part 2 if not more. 

pairing: Eddie x plus size! reader 

warnings: All characters are 18+ and you should be too. MINORS DNI! TW: this fic does contain mentions and depictions of sexual assault (not graphic, reader is non-consensually touched by a stranger at the bar), feelings of guilt after assault are briefly mentioned, plus size!reader with mentions of feelings around having their size compared to someone else, use of y/n, female pronouns and pet names used to describe reader, brief violence, mentions of bruising and blood, crying, eating and talk about food, eventual smut. if you find any of these things triggering, please do not continue to read

genre: fluff, angst, eventual smut

word count: 10.2k (oops, got a little carried away there)

author’s note: This is my first Eddie fic and the first fic I’ve written in about 10 years, so please be kind and repost and comment if you enjoy it 💜 Lightly proofread and edited, but tell me if there is anything super weird. I do not really incorporate anything from s4 and the characters are all college age. I have a part 2 of this already in the works, but let me know if there is anything specific you all would like to see from this story. 

tags: tagging a few sweet mutuals who might like to read, feel free to ignore though :) @wroteclassicaly​ @boomhauer​ @thisishellfire @bayouteche​ @honeybee-reverie​

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Please, please, please come!!” your best friend, Holly, whines, pouting with her hands on her hips. Soft afternoon summer light fades through the gauzy window coverings, fracturing and splitting as you flop back onto her pillowy bed, dust motes exploding in your wake. She has been making her case for over 20 minutes about why you should go see the Battle of the Bands competition that is being held at some dive bar called The Hideout, and Holly is always absolutely relentless in any argument you two have, especially if it is about metal music. 

“It’s really not my thing,” your fingers dance lazily through the dust clouds and you try your best to avoid her laser-like gaze, “I know you want me to experience all of Hawkins while I’m here for the summer, but that is the one area we differ in. I’ll love you forever, but I will never understand how you can listen to the sound of shrieking guitars, drums that are way too intense, and some guy screaming scary lyrics at you and then you have the audacity to call it music” you smirk, catching her exasperated look out of the corner of your eye just as she tosses a pillow at your face. 

“Hey!” you squeak and chuck the pillow right back at her, maybe with a little more force than you had meant to because she stumbles and plops down onto the bed next to you. 

“Please, Y/N… if you absolutely hate it, we can leave and go see a movie or something, but I like really really REALLY want to go to this. It is the final battle between the top two metal bands in Hawkins, Corroded Coffin and The Feral Tomb, and….” she insists and then hesitates for a moment, chewing on her thumbnail, “...and there is this guy in The Feral Tomb, he’s the bassist, and, um…I…well…”

“Come on, Holls. So you want to drag me along to this…concert, and I use that term very loosely here, so that I can be your wingwoman and you can flirt with some metalhead? Am I getting all the details right here?” you sit up from the bed suddenly, still avoiding her puppy-dog eyes, but giving her sidelong glances through your eyelashes. 

“Yes.” she replies sheepishly, her eyes dropping down to focus on the loose thread she is aimlessly unraveling from the pillow in her lap. 

You had spent the last month at Holly’s childhood home in Hawkins, Indiana, enjoying the lazy small town summer and relishing in the much needed break after your junior year at Purdue Indianapolis. You two were roommates at university and when a family thing came up she said she had to head home for the summer. This meant giving up the apartment you shared, and you scrambled to try to find somewhere to stay. With no parents, relatives, or really other friends to speak of in the area, it would have been impossible to find somewhere you could afford alone on your measly coffee shop salary, even if it was just three summer months. When Holly offered for you to come along with her to her hometown, you felt unfamiliar knots in your stomach, maybe something akin to sisterly love, a feeling entirely foreign to you as an only child. She had been by your side since freshman orientation, her mom even acted the part of a parental figure for you since your mom was unable to make any of the welcome events, and when it came time to move out of the freshman dorms and into the nearby apartments she didn’t even second guess the idea that you two would be moving in together. So with a few futile “no I couldn’t possibly”s and “well I don’t want to be a bother”s you packed your bags and headed with her to Hawkins. 

It certainly wasn’t the most exciting place to spend the summer, but with home cooked meals every night, late night giggle sessions with Holly, and the sweet tan you were getting from all the time out at Lover’s Lake, it felt like the home you’d never had. 

You shake your head, clearing the reverie and aimless thoughts to focus back on Holly, who is practically gnawing a hole in the raw flesh of her thumb as she awaits your response. 

“So, what’s his name then, this bassist? What’s so great about him? And is there one for me too?” you sigh and push her shoulder playfully. Her squealing immediately pierces through the room and she leaps from the bed, dashing over to the closet. 

“His name is Theodore, but he goes by Theo. Isn’t that so sexy and mature sounding? He’s got this gorgeous blonde hair and he is just how I like them.” She coos as she begins to furiously push masses of hanging clothes aside, her lips pursing as she inspects a lacy black dress and then tosses it aside. 

“And just how do you like them Holly?” you give her a quizzical look, already knowing her answer would leave most scandalized. She pops back out of the closet, her hands on her hips incredulously. 

“You know, dumb and eager to make me cum,” she winks and disappears into the closet again.

“Jesus, Holly, subtlety has never been your forte has it? So what about me then? Keep in mind my type is usually someone with some semblance of a brain, I would still like them to make me cum though,” you inquire, trying desperately to think back to the last time a guy had made you cum, but either your memory is failing you or it had been a painfully long time since that has occurred in your love life. 

“The other guys in his band are pretty cute too, maybe not quite your usual brainy, bookish type, but hey, it’s just a summer hookup. And the other band, Corroded Coffin, well I went to high school with all of them, and they were all kind of super nerdy then, so I can’t say that I find any of them sexy, but maybe you will,” she wrinkles her nose and sticks her tongue out at you. 

“Alright, well give me all the details on the ones you went to high school with then,” you roll your eyes and stand up to rummage through your own clothes, trying to find something even remotely suitable for a metal concert. 

“Well, Eddie is the lead guitarist/singer. He was the Dungeon Master of their little D&D club and I remember him always putting on some kind of dramatic production during lunch. He’s kind of full of himself, but in a charming way. Jeff is the other guitarist, he’s sweet, definitely a little shy. Gareth is the drummer, we had a project we were paired for in history and he did all of it for me so we love that. The bassist is Barry, or Larry. Maybe Carl? I can’t remember his name honestly.” She continues flipping through her closet, leaving piles of almost entirely black clothes in her wake, until she finds the winners. You flip over the names in your head, trying to imagine just based on her brief descriptions if any of them would be worth the effort of dressing up for this thing. 

“Aha! Here you go!” she tosses a leather jacket, some ripped black jeans, and a faded oversized Iron Maiden shirt that has the sleeves cut off into your lap, then begins to shimmy out of her sweatpants and t-shirt in favor of a pair of leather pants and a cropped black shirt that maybe once had a band’s logo printed on it, but was so well loved and worn that there was only a whisper of a print that remained. 

“But I barely even know who Iron Maiden is. What if someone asks me about them and I don’t know what to say,” you panic slightly, cautiously shrugging the shoulders of your sundress down to slip the foreign shirt over your head. 

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1,142 notes - Posted September 4, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Curls - Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

part 2

summary: Eddie is getting ready to meet your parents for the first time after a year of dating. He is particularly nervous about impressing them, so you help him do his hair. And then help him relax a little 😉

warnings: smut 18+ MINORS DNI. established relationship, kissing, breast play, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (mention of birth control but still wrap it up and be safe 👍🏻), lots of sweet sappiness between Eddie and reader, reader has curly hair but it is not described in great detail, reader is implied as plus size but doesn’t have to be read that way, reader has relationship with both parents. I think that is it but let me know if I missed something.

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 4.9K

author’s note: I couldn’t get the idea out of my head about doing Eddie’s hair and so this just all kind of came rambling out. Any feedback is always appreciated 💕

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3,032 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[milevenxdepression]

✰ the sounds good feels good legacy challenge ✰

a while ago i started this challenge and never got around to finish it. but here it is! a sims legacy challenge inspired by my favourite album. hope you enjoy!

if you don't like any prompts feel free to change them, especially if you don't have certain packs. use as many mods or any lifespan you like!

use the hashtag #sgfglegacy, i would love to see your posts!

this challenge is inspired by dizzywhims’ sour and simlidge’s harry’s house legacy challenge. <3

rules and gens under the cut!

generation zero: money ✰

you’re 20, you’ve just graduated from a music program and are ready to start your life. your big dreams: become rich and famous, and everybody in the place should catch that feeling.

traits: music lover, outgoing, erratic

aspiration: fabulously wealthy

skills: guitar, singing, dj mixing

career: entertainer, musician branch

regularly perform for other sims

go on vacation every season when you reach the musician branch

date and elope with someone you've met when partying

generation one: she's kinda hot ✰

all the money your mom and dad have made you a bit spoiled, so you drop out of college and see sim after sim. when you realize all your partners only want you for your money, you decide to give it all away. you’re alright though.

traits: materialistic, self-absorbed, romantic

aspiration: serial romantic

skills: media production, acting, charisma

career: social media, internet personality branch

drop out of college after one term

every time you break up with someone they take 2k of your money

have a kid with one of your one night stands and donate all your money when they become a teen

generation two: hey everybody ✰

with your parent not leaving you any of their money, you decide it’s not the end of the world, because you don’t want it anyway. you just want to raise a happy family with as little money as possible, living in a dream suburban home.

traits: family oriented, cheerful, neat

aspiration: successful lineage

skills: research and debate, parenting, baking

career: education, professor branch

have a mini-job during high school and college to support yourself

move to the suburbs and own a white picket fence home with your partner

have at least three kids and quit your job once you reach level 10 to be a stay-at-home-parent

generation three: permanent vacation ✰

you’re sick of your parents’ and siblings‘ conformity and rebel your way through high school. in college you’re known for the campus-wide protests you hold. frustration and desperation with society lead you to wanting to change the system.

traits: self-assured, vegetarian, good

aspiration: neighbourhood confidante

skills: logic, charisma, video games

career: politician, politician branch

move out the moment you turn into a young adult

hold one protest a week, marry someone you met protesting

have kids, but then divorce your partner, taking all kids with you

generation four: jet black heart ✰

growing up in a very messy and loud household, writing is your only escape. as a young-adult you try to work over your depression, but it isn’t until you meet a certain someone that you burst back into colors, returning to life.

traits: gloomy, perfectionist, romantic

aspiration: bestselling author

skills: writing, painting, knitting

career: writer, journalist branch

stay in most days and rarely go out with friends until you meet your partner

meet said future partner by having to interview them for your work

write three bestsellers and earn 20k with paintings.

generation five: catch fire ✰

you’ve fallen in love for the first time and then they cheat on you. you’re devastated. you go through college never getting over them. but since survivor’s guilt can be so unkind, they come back to start a family with you.

traits: bro, loves outdoors, active

aspiration: bodybuilder

skills: fitness, charisma, snowboarding

career: athlete, professional athlete branch

get cheated on by your bf/gf when you’re in high school

distract yourself by pouring everything into sports

eventually marrry the sim who cheated on you in high school

generation six: safety pin ✰

you can tell that your parents' relationship is not what they make it out to be and them brushing over it, has always bothered you. but then a broken boy meets a broken girl and the two of you are unstoppable and in love like no one else.

traits: creative, art lover, cheerful

aspiration: party animal

skills: painting, piano, dancing

career: painter, patron of the arts branch

meet another broken sim and run away together with 500§ between the two of you

have paintings worth 50.000§ in your home

adopt at least one child and have one of your own

generation seven: waste the night ✰

growing up all you want to have is a love like your parents. you do experience it, but one faithful night ends it all. to get distracted you drown yourself in coursework, hoping not to make the same mistakes again.

traits: ambitious, overachiever, bookworm

aspiration: academic

skills: research and debate, programming, logic

career: law, judge branch

be in a romantic relationship, but be mean to them in an argument and break up

complete three uni degrees and don’t flirt with anyone

meet and marry someone new, but always keep a little distance

generation eight: vapor ✰

you didn’t think it would ever hit you like this, but you are addicted to your partner and you need to be around them all the time. even though they sometimes seem kind of distant and make it sound so sweet when they lie to you.

traits: loyal, generous, foodie

aspiration: mixologist

skills: mixology, gourmet cooking, parenting

career: critic, food critic branch

call your partner every morning and night

when you move in together woohoo every two days until your first kid

have your partner get pregnant from someone else/get someone else pregnant, but raise it as your own

generation nine: castaway ✰

you also go through a big break up in your 20s, except you also have a kid beside you, your partner having walked out, leaving you stranded. so you pack up your things and the two of you move to the countryside to start a peaceful new life.

traits: animal enthusiast, family-oriented, loves outdoors

aspiration: country caretaker

skills: gardening, flower arranging, wellness

career: gardener, botanist branch

have a kid with your partner and then have them leave you all of a sudden

move to the countryside and run a farm

never marry and raise your kid as a single parent

generation ten: the girl who cried wolf ✰

you are bored of the countryside and of your high school partner, who loves you a lot. you cheat on them during college and date around a bit. but no one can love you like your first and no matter how much you two fight, they’re not leaving.

traits: hot headed, non-committal, high maintenance

aspiration: villainous valentine

skills: entrepreneur, fitness, media production

career: social media, public relations branch

have a bf/gf in high school who adores you

cheat on them with someone from a different city and follow them there

date around in said city, but eventually marry your high school sweetheart

generation eleven: broken home ✰

your parents say they’re in love, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. you’d hope, you’d pray, you were waiting it out, but you eventually grow to hate everyone around you. except for that one person who introduces you to a very, very bad world.

traits: kleptomaniac, evil, loner

aspiration: seeker of secrets

skills: mischief, programming, handiness

career: secret agent, villain branch

keep happy relationships until you become a teen, then lose all of them

meet someone who works as a criminal, have them be your only positive relationhip

never officially date them but have kids together

generation twelve: fly away ✰

you try to get away from your family as soon as possible, wanting to take your heart to the end of the world. you want to see everything and know everyone, which sometimes leads you to forget what - or who - is most important.

traits: adventurous, outgoing, creative

aspiration: friend of the world

skills: writing, painting, mixology

career: freelance writer or artist

skip college and move to a different world right out of high school

have lived in four different worlds throughout your life

marry someone from the second world you’ve moved to. have multiple kids, neglect one of them

generation thirteen: invisible ✰

neglected by your parents, you don’t know yourself, until you meet someone who does. together you raise a kid and scared for them to grow up the way you did, you maybe pay a little too much attention to them.

traits: paranoid, family oriented, jealous

aspiration: super parent

skills: parenting, cooking, pet training

career: culinary, chef branch

keep a close relationship with your siblings, but not with your parents

meet someone out on the street. reject them first, thinking you’re not good enough

helicopter-parent your kid

generation fourteen: airplanes ✰

you find shelter in your best friend with your parents always up your way. when you turn 18 you start to rebel against them and together with your best friend, now partner, you move to san myshuno with nothing to lose in this city.

traits: party animal, goofball, romantic

aspiration: city native

skills: photography, media production, comedy

career: style influencer, stylist branch

spend more time at your best friend’s house than your own as a teen

move into an apartment with your partner in san myshuno

get eloped on ‘a night out on the town’ day

generation fifteen: san francisco ✰

growing up the city is all you know, this is where you fell in love, never thinking it would end. but then they pass and you move to the mountains where you find a new life and new love, but never forgetting (with) who you originally were.

traits: perfectionist, good, loyal

aspiration: mt. komorebi sightseer

skills: logic, programming, skiing

career: salaryperson, expert branch

fall in love with someone from san myshuno. have them pass away

move to mt. komorebi and max your career before dating again

marry a mt. komorebi native and have kids. have pictures of your first love in your house

generation sixteen: os / co ✰

after 16 generations of love, loss and heartbreak, you are very scared of losing your partner, so you break up with them out of fear. but with the way the universe works you find your way back together and you let the good times roll.

traits: gloomy, romantic, loves outdoors

aspiration: inner peace

skills: wellness, gourmet cooking, piano

career: conservationist, marine biologist branch

break up with your partner when you reach a relationship level of 100

after some time get back together with your true love

have a long and peaceful life and never have kids. thank u for playing :)

[leimeurab]

im bored and i have nothing to do nor someone to yap about my random thoughts so i guess i'll just leave them here.

i really miss high school. i long for the carefree freeling of high school. i don't know, it just went by, you know? like, the world is moving so fast for me; i can't keep up. i am a sentimental person and this is very hard for me. i have to live with the fact that i have to move on everytime or else i'll just live by my past and not enjoy today. i'm afraid i won't be able to keep up and i'll just be here all alone and not knowing what to do next.

another thing for me is that i can't live on my own. i've come to a realization that i am not ready for the world and i'm still not doing anything to prepare me for what's about to hit me in the future. i need my mom, i need my best friend, i need my friends; i need everything. i'm scared there wouldn't be anyone for me in the distant future. i'm scared of losing my mother early, hell, i'm afraid of just losing her in general.

one more thing i'm scared of is the thought of me reaching my limits in terms of learning. i've got this fear of not being able to learn topics, like, at all. what if i don't get to know how computers really work? or how to code? i mean, it's my dream to code (though i still have no idea as to what am i really learning coding for, all i know is just i want to learn coding and computers). math is another thing, i just know there's gonna be a point where it won't make sense to me and i'm scared of it.

i really enjoyed my first year college. it went by so fast also but the end didn't really felt like the end. maybe it's the thought that i made friends of a lifetime and i just know these friendships i made will last. i guess i'm comforted by that thought.

i liked to think i really aced calculus. i really really love calculus that i want to master it. it's just so beautiful, you know? also physics. though i really struggled with the application and with my exams, i get to really know physics on a surface level. i enjoyed it, thanks to such a brillant professor (thank you sir kite, i will be forever grateful for the help and for the teachings that i will forever treasure 🫶).

in these boring times, i get so many random thoughts. there are times i just want to write a calculus textbook for the pleasure of learning the subject more (i really love learning, if you can't tell). i want to have everything written so that i won't be able to forget them, specially now that i am feeling forgetful and i just know this is not gonna end well for me. i also struggle at learning at times, i feel like i have a serious mental health issue and it is scaring me. i don't want to be forgetful. i'm scared i would just randomly forget everything on a random tuesday while going home from school and i wouldn't be able to find my way home. i fear for my life.

there's also this story i want to write. i want to write a mystery-thriller about a serial killer offing people in the most brutal ways but perfecting the scenes is one thing; there's also my struggle with characterization, like, i can't even think of names to my characters. this was once my dream, you know? to be a successful writer, if not a director. that dream was re-lit after doing this short film for our ethics subject where we're given the topic of kantian ethics/deontological ethics/duty ethics and i thought of this brillant story where a killer targets people who failed to do their duty. i remember thinking of the name, "kantian ripper" for the killer while on a jeepney ride to school far from home so i really have some time to think inside my head. my vision for the film shattered with lack of time and resources though so i thought i should write a story on it. up til now, i haven't got anything started but ideas for the kills.

i don't know what i really should be doing in the future but i know i can't be a civil engineer. well, plot twist, i enrolled at the civil engineering program. i hate myself but also love myself for doing it. i don't know what to do in life. im confused. i'm pretty sure you can tell by just reading this blog how confused i am with everything. it's just like this in my head: everything is all over the place. i've decided now to take yhe computer engineering program as i think i can see myself working with computers and softwares and stuffs. should've taken IT but it's a long story. long story short it was not my decision, i just took it.

i really wish i can get to have a more organized mind, you know? i don't knlw what's wrong with me or if this is even really wrong for a person but i don't like how confusing my brain is. the thoughts are just overlapping in there and blanking is really the more prominent result from it. im always blank. i just said thoughts that come up because i can say them. confusing, i know. here it is again, i am blanking. i don't know how to deal with this and it's really affecting my well-being. i fear there will be a time where i really lack of any thoughts. at all. i'm scared i'll be blank forever.

this is really getting long but i guess this helps me let out thoughts that would rather bug my mind. i fear of people not knowing how i really feel about them (unless i hate them, of course) but i'll leave these here if ever it has come to a point where i wouldn't be able to tell my mother this:

i love you so so much, mother. i appreciate everything you have ever done for me and raising me alone must've been really hard for you. i'm sorry if i can't really help you everytime with your struggles. i wish i could've helped more. but please, i love you so so much. i just wish i get to die first because i cannot afford to lose you.

i really wish i get to be better.

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A Halloween party where tensions rise and finally snap, and an unlucky encounter with the power to cancel out the happiness that comes out of it.

— Content warnings: slightly nsfw, drunken kissing, alcohol consumption, yandere behavior, misogyny, mention of murder.

— Notes: Hello, everybody! Welcome to chapter 4 (aka my favorite chapter in the series) <3 You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to post this one. Fun fact: the romantic scenes here were the first thing I planned for this story (added a serial killer and boom, Tunnel Vision was born). Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

can you feel my heart?

“I don't think this costume is original enough to place,” you mutter, smoothing out the skirt of your babydoll dress and shifting in your seat.

It's too cold to go out in minimal clothing, but you agreed to wear the dress for the sake of making the girls happy. Besides, you're supposed to match with Mikasa, who's sporting a red version of your dress so you can go as an angel and devil duo. It was her idea, so it saved you the hassle of coming up with your own costume while also filling you with reassurance from being well-liked.

“Well, we're not going for the costume contest. We're going to support Jean… and for drinks, of course,” Sasha prompts. 

“I still can't believe Jean is in a band. How did I not know this?”

“He's just filling in for the bassist tonight, but he's really good,” she explains. “He used to play in college.”

The Bobby pins in Sasha’s mouth mess with every other one of her words. You're sitting on the edge of Mikasa's bed as Sasha sits on her knees behind you, fixing your hair, while Mikasa is seated in front of you, doing your makeup.

It's not the most practical process, given that Sasha keeps moving your head around to do her job, earning annoyed looks from Mikasa as she struggles to finish applying your eyeshadow.

“Sasha, I love you to death, sweetie, but you're delaying my masterpiece,” Mikasa grumbles.

“Sorry,” Sasha sings. “I'm done now.” She climbs down from the bed and goes up front to admire her work.

“Ugh, you're so pretty,” she gushes, hands clasped together. You're not sure what Sasha is supposed to be. When she got to Mikasa's apartment, she said her costume was in her bag. For now, she's dressed in a black turtleneck top, black leggings, and red Converse. She squeals one last time before sitting down at Mikasa's vanity to fix her own makeup. 

“It feels a little weird,” you admit. “I'm, like, hyper-aware of how different I look.”

You like dressing up, looking sleek and polished. But the combination of the glitter sprinkled in your hair, the feathery halo headband on your head, and spaghetti straps step too far out of your usual fashion choices. It all leaves you feeling a bit vulnerable. 

Mikasa smiles.

“Don't sweat it. You look amazing.” 

The way she says it, so warmly and confidently, is comforting enough to pull a smile from you. You've never had a sister, but if you did, you imagined someone like Mikasa would be perfect.

“I know for sure one guy won't keep his eyes off of you tonight.”

Her words throw you off guard. Your lips fall open, ready to ask questions, or throw an excuse, or change the subject. But nothing comes to you, so you end up just staring at her in shock as you feel yourself build up a sweat.

She giggles as she makes the last finishing touches on your face.

The doorbell rings.

“Sash, get the door, please?” she asks as she walks to her vanity and starts rummaging through her makeup drawer in search of the perfect shade of lipstick to tie the look together.

“On it.” Sasha promptly stands, gives herself one last look in the mirror, and walks out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Eagerly, she unlocks the front door and swings it open, only to instantly drop her smile for confusion when she takes in all four men lined before her.

“What are you supposed to be? A bunch of beat-up accountants?”

“Hey,” Armin whines.

Jean, Armin, Connie, and Eren are all wearing suits stained with fake blood. Minus the bass case slung on Jean's shoulder, which likely isn't part of his costume, there aren't many more hints to go off of.

Jean scoffs as he hooks his thumbs around his suspenders.

“Um… Reservoir Dogs? Hello?” 

“I've never heard of it,” she deadpans. She turns on her heel and goes to the sofa where she left her bag earlier, leaving the door wide open for everyone to follow inside.

“You cannot be serious, Sasha. It's Quentin Tarantino!”

“Ew, the foot fetishist?” Her face contorts in disgust.

Eren throws his head back in laughter. 

Jean throws his hands up in the air. 

“Oh, that you know.”

Sasha shrugs, not caring one bit about Jean's frustration.

“Connie, help me get this thing on,” she says, smoothing out her costume on the sofa. It's a hot dog.

The rest of the guys watch amusedly as the pair struggle to get Sasha into her costume. When her head finally pokes through, strands from her ponytail have come loose and she's gasping for air.

“Oh, man. They should add a zipper to these things,” she huffs.

Armin leans closer, his eye catching a flicker of silver movement on the side of the costume. His fingers hold onto the zipper as he looks up at Sasha with pursed lips.

Jean scoffs incredulously. 

“It has a zipper, you big dummy. I swear–”

He and Sasha lose themselves in a wave of bickering. That is until Eren clears his throat. He's been looking for signs of more people around the apartment, glancing at the kitchen or through the open crack of the bathroom door.

“Where's… everyone else?” he asks nobody in particular.

Jean abandons his play fight with Sasha to smirk at Eren. 

“Excited to see your girlfriend, Jaeger?”

Eren freezes, instantly taken aback by Jean's accusation. Everyone else exchanges shocked glances with each other, before ultimately landing their focus on Eren to gauge his reaction.

But he doesn't even move. All he does is look at the floor, cheeks red, and lips curled inwards as he struggles for a comeback.

Sasha’s the first to move. Her palm lands with a reprimanding force against Jean's head, who whines in protest.

“Oh, come on! We've all seen the way he looks at her.” He turns to Eren. “Why don't you just ask her out?”

Armin's quick to intervene.

“Jean, I don't think it's our place to say anything. I'm sure if Eren wants to, he will. It's none of our business.”

“I'm just saying… we all know you like her, you've got our support, Jaeger.”

Eren rolls his tongue against his cheek. When he finally speaks, his voice is practically a ghost of itself.

“We're just friends.” 

“And you're okay with that?”

Jean's question burns at Eren's cheeks. But before anything else can be said or done in his defense, Mikasa's bedroom door cracks open and the raven-haired girl's head pops out. Sasha instinctively shoots a warning glare at everyone to be quiet.

“Sorry for the wait, everybody.” Mikasa grins as she opens the door wider and steps out into the living room. “We're ready now.”

Eren waits with bated breath for you to come out. It seems like an eternity between the moment Mikasa moves aside and when you finally reveal yourself in a flowy white dress and a halo bouncing above your head. 

A soft ‘woah’ escapes him as he feels the usual flutter in his stomach he's been doing so good to ignore. 

Jean whistles in approval and all the other guys proceed to shower you with compliments. Your gaze bounces from face to face, flustered from all the attention, ultimately meeting with Eren, who keeps his distance from across the room.

It's been a couple of weeks since you last saw each other. It's been the same number of days since you realized why that flutter in your stomach came to be. It's no surprise to you when it happens now, along with a warm pressure in your chest when his lips curve into a shy smile. For a moment, it's just you and him.

The magic cuts off and scatters over the floor in imaginary golden dust when Connie announces the arrival of your ride to the bar. 

Everyone starts making their way out the door.

A heavy hand lands on Eren’s shoulder. Jean's voice murmurs the words ‘good luck’ in his ear before walking away.

Eren stands in place, watching as you close the distance between you with just a few steps.

“Hey.”

It might be Eren's imagination, warping his surroundings to further feed into the concept behind your costume, but he truly can't deny how breathtaking and radiant you look. It's like a vision from dreams he'll forever be too embarrassed to confess to. He can barely cough up a strangled ‘hi’ back.

You walk side by side until you reach the car. The entire time, Eren's careful not to brush against you, scared it might trigger his nerves and he won't be able to hide it. But once you're in the car, it's hard to avoid any physical contact, given that three of you are squished together in the back with Jean's bass. 

The entire ride is clouded with hyper-awareness of every accidental touch between you and Eren, hushed apologies for bumping knees, and trying to remain unfazed by each other's warmth as you draw closer to your destination — you're much better at it than he is.

The scent of your perfume is heavenly, the soft, mellow notes intoxicating Eren to the sweetest high. 

By the time you get to the bar, there's already a small crowd of people waiting for their turn to be let inside. In one swift glance, you make out several witch hats, vampire fangs, kitten ears, fairy wings, and much more.

A large banner that takes up the width of the entrance announces their Halloween weekend event in bursts of purple and silver tones.

Thanks to a laminated pass Jean digs from his pocket, the whole group gets to skip the line and are ushered inside right away. A staff member calls Jean aside to lead him to a greenroom in the back where the other band members are.

“I'll see you guys in a bit,” Jean calls over his shoulder, offering a salute before getting lost in the shadows.

“Let's find a booth before more people come in,” Mikasa suggests.

As you all follow her lead to an open spot, your eyes roam around, taking in the details of the place. It's a fairly large venue, the booths lined in an L shape against the left wall, and several round tables spread out before them until the open floor for crowds to gather in front of the stage. To the right, a dimly lit bar occupies nearly the whole length of the wall, with shelves upon shelves of liquor and glasses. Looking up, you have a view of the balcony contained by silver railings decorated in decorative skulls and purple tinsel, where more tables and booths line the four walls and large lamps hang from the high ceiling.

You shrug your jacket off your shoulders as you settle into the booth Mikasa chooses. It's center to the stage with a perfect view of every corner of the venue's bottom floor. Mikasa slides in at your right, Eren to your left, and Armin at the end.

“I'm gonna get us some drinks,” Connie offers, as he leans with his phone to scan the code for the menu taped to the table. 

“Gin and tonic, for me,” Armin says, not bothering to scroll further down the menu.

“Ooh,” Mikasa zooms in on an item on her screen.

“Long Island?” Connie grins, spotting the same name on his phone.

“Yup,” she replies.

“A cosmo for me, please,” you say, setting down your phone on the table. 

Connie shoots finger guns at you and clicks his tongue.

“You got it. Gin and tonic, Long Island, Cosmo…” He points to each of you as he recites your orders. “Eren? Vodka cranberry?”

Eren nods shyly.

“Yeah.” 

Connie recites your orders one last time before heading off to the bar, Sasha trails behind him to help carry the drinks back.

“What time is Jean supposed to come out again?” you ask.

“He's in the second band. I think around ten-ish?” Armin replies as he confirms the time on the flyer Jean sent into the group chat. 

“God, he's gonna be insufferable when he gets back,” Eren groans. Armin nods along, and Mikasa simply laughs.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“He's always so cocky after playing,” Eren explains. “When we were in college he had a ton of girls fawning all over him just because he was in a band, and it gave him an even bigger head.”

“Well, to be fair, he never acted like a jerk,” Armin argues. “He just liked the attention.”

“That's because he thought it'd make Mikasa jealous,” Eren scoffs.

Your head is whirling in every direction as you receive every new piece of information.

“I mean, it worked,” Mikasa counters with a shrug. 

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Not once did it ever seem to you that anything was going on between Mikasa and Jean.

“You're dating Jean?” you express with shock laced through your tone.

She laughs.

“Someone has to take one for the team,” she jokes. “I kid, it's been great.”

Before you can ask how long they've been together, her phone starts buzzing on the table.

“Speak of the devil,” she grins, eyes skimming the text on her phone before she slides out of the booth. “I'll be back in a bit.” 

With a cheeky wink tossed over her shoulder, she's off. 

“I can't believe I never noticed Jean and Mikasa are together,” you say as you watch her scurry off into the backroom.

“They're pretty lowkey,” Eren replies with a shrug. “But I don't blame her. I'd be embarrassed if I were dating Jean, too,”

You laugh. 

“Come on, don't be mean,” Armin says, nudging his friend with his shoulder. He then turns to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “He acts like he hates him, but he actually helped Jean out when he asked Mikasa to be his girlfriend.”

“All I did was blow up balloons and buy flowers,” Eren huffs, embarrassed that his affection for Jean is out in the open.

“A little help, please,” a strained voice calls from a few feet away. 

It's Sasha. She's slowly walking toward the booth with her hands contorted at odd angles to balance four drinks in her hold. You all stand to relieve her from one drink each.

As soon as you settle into the booth again, Connie makes his way back, balancing a wooden bowl on top of everything.

“I got us some peanuts,” he grins, carefully setting everything down on the table. You all pass around each other's drink and take your first sips.

“Where's Mika?” Sasha asks, popping a peanut into her mouth. 

“Making out with Jean, I bet,” Connie jests.

“You're not wrong,” Armin sings.

You're interrupted by a brief sound of feedback screeching through the speakers, followed by a tap on the microphone at the center of the stage. The first band introduces themselves and begins to play. Every song gradually builds up the energy of the crowd which starts to gather to dance and sway to the music. It's loud enough to keep everyone nodding their head along to the beat but low enough to still have a conversation where one doesn't need to yell to be heard.

The peanut bowl is refilled and a second round of drinks is soon brought to the table, courtesy of Connie's credit card.

He and Sasha are the first to stray from the group to check out the band up close, just moments before Mikasa finds her way back. 

She's got a giddy air about her, and the artificial red of her lips is replaced by a more natural one.

When she asks for the missing pair, the three of you that remain nod toward the crowd, where you can easily spot Sasha’s hot dog costume bopping around to the music.

Mikasa laughs at the scene in between long sips of her Long Island. The two of you engage in a mushy conversation about her timeline with Jean. By the time she's halfway through her second Long Island, she's a giggling and blushing mess.

“I was right, you know?” she smiles as she affectionately strokes your head.

“About what?” You can't help but feel amused by her behavior, her enthusiasm is contagious. It pulls upwards at the corners of your lips. 

“Eren hasn't stopped looking at you.” 

Though tipsy, she's still grounded enough to speak lowly and close to your ear — you're grateful for her consideration. Otherwise, it would make the situation a lot more embarrassing. 

You don't have the guts to look back to verify for yourself, but Eren's track record makes it believable. Even so, you've glanced at Eren a couple of times during the night, only to find his gaze already set on you. He hasn't shied away as much tonight — a likely effect on his courage from the drinks he's had, or maybe because his instincts are dulled by the liquor. He still blushes like crazy, though. It's driving the butterflies in your stomach mad. Mikasa's notice only makes everything more real. It's a reminder that the world surrounding you and Eren doesn't disappear each time your eyes meet. 

“I'm gonna try to get a good spot before Jean comes out,” she says in a slightly louder voice. She stands from the booth and holds a hand out to Armin, gesturing for him to come with her. 

Quizzically, Armin allows himself to be pulled from his seat by her but then looks back with a mischievous grin spread across his face when Mikasa speaks something in his ear.

They both leave, and it's just you and Eren alone at the booth. You haven't been drinking much, just enough to feel a soft buzz in your muscles. But the sudden tension builds up a fever in your system. 

You glance back at Eren. He's laying back into the cushioned seat, legs spread, tie loosened, and eyes zeroed in on the glass nursed in his large, veiny hands. When his emerald irises look up at you through his lashes, his lips slowly part as if he's about to say something — or to suck in a breath — and finally press together in a lopsided smile.

Mirroring his expression, you scoot closer to him to close the distance that's been growing without intention as you lost yourselves in separate conversations throughout the night. 

“You know, you look good in a suit,” you say, allowing your back to fall into the cushioned seat. You lean your head back, angling it so that you have a good view of his face.

“Yeah? You think?” He mirrors your actions and allows his head to rest next to yours. It's a safe distance, yet your perfume still circles around him, getting him a different kind of drunk. Albeit, you can say the same thing about his cologne. 

“It's a big change from your usual t-shirt and jeans get-up.” 

“But still the good kind, right?” 

Your eyes wander over the glassiness hovering over his eyes, to the messy strands of hair that poke about on his head from combing through it with his hands so much, to his plump lips glossed over with saliva from his last sip of watered-down cranberry vodka to the two unmade buttons on his bloodstained shirt. 

“Absolutely,” you murmur, lips curved softly.

He bites back a smile, eyes darting to the side to seem nonchalant. Your gaze flits to the movement, taking in the way his teeth dig into the plumpness of his bottom lip. 

“So was the whole angel thing your idea?” he asks, hand motioning in your direction.

“It was Mikasa,” you murmur. “She got the first pick so I was pretty much cornered.” 

Pursing his lips, he nods.

“I don't think it suits me, though. I feel out of place.”

“Ah, because you're the devil incarnate?” He quirks a teasing eyebrow, causing a laugh to sputter from your lips. “I'm surprised this thing isn't burning a hole into your head.” He flicks the feathered halo, causing it to bobble. 

“Does it make me look silly?”

He fakes a long moment of contemplation. 

“No,” he finalizes. His voice grows lower, gentler. “It makes you look cute.” 

You cringe.

“Ah… so without it I look…”

He laughs. 

“Come on, you know that’s not what I meant!” 

He runs a hand through his face. You're not sure if it's the alcohol or you that has him blushing profusely. 

“You’re still pretty without it. I’m just having an easier time talking to you when you’re wearing… this.” 

The irony of his nervous hand gestures and the cracks in his voice isn’t lost on you. Your eyes twinkle with amusement as he straightens his posture but continues to stumble over his words. 

“Not that it’s hard to talk to you. You’re not scary or anything! I mean, you can be a little intimidating but that’s only at the beginning! You just—”

He heavily sighs as he falls back into his seat again.

“You look cute right now, that's all. But you're always pretty.” 

He pinches the bridge of his nose in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I just… I still get nervous around you,” he softly laughs. 

His admission can only be attributed to how foreign everything feels in his hazy state. It’s as if he can’t stop himself from spouting whatever comes to mind — no premeditation, no reason. He’s fully aware of what’s going on, but it’s easier to hide behind too many highballs as an excuse. This moment is what makes him finally understand what people mean when they refer to liquid courage. 

“I know.”

Your words knock the air out of his lungs. He already knows you know. How can you not if he’s been so blatantly obvious in his perception of you from the start? Still, it’s different when you openly acknowledge it. It breaks the barrier of politely feigned ignorance and makes everything much more real. And yet he held this microscopic hope this whole time that his date proposal is nothing but ancient history and his behavior toward you could’ve passed as ordinary shyness. 

Guilt starts pooling in his stomach. That feeling of rejection starts bubbling in his chest without warning. He doesn’t even register the affectionate way you gaze at him, glossy lips shaped into a gentle smile, as your eyebrows upturn in sympathy. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He keeps his head low, afraid he might’ve just set himself up for failure yet again. But you shake your head.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur. “It’s cute.”

The world falls silent. It’s either that or the first band of the night is done playing and the following act has yet to come on stage — Eren can’t tell the difference. He turns to you, all too used by now to face you with reddened cheeks and wide eyes. 

There’s a soft smile playing on your lips as you stare down at your lap, where your fidgeting hands rest. He averts his gaze, facing forward to spare his mind a moment to clear itself of any silly assumptions. His lips curl inwards — a habit for when he’s unsure of what to say. But when he looks back at you seconds later, you’re already looking at him — glossy lips parted and that glassiness to your eyes that makes his heart flutter.

Eren knows better than to think your gaze flickers to his lips. There’s no other explanation than it being a trick of his mind, right? And yet his tongue darts out instinctively, coating his lips with saliva, as his breaths grow shallow.

In one swift motion, your fingers wrap around his loosened tie to pull him closer as you lean forward to meet him halfway. There’s a brief pause just a hair away from your mouths colliding — a moment for him to process that this is truly happening and for you to wind up more courage — where your breaths swirl together before they’re absorbed by the other. Your lips meld perfectly into each other in one warm, cranberry-flavored kiss. You kiss once, twice, three times, and then once more. Each sweet contact brings you closer together, makes your heads grow dizzier and your chests to be relieved from their previous tension. 

Eren’s hands grip the edge of his seat, nails digging into the leather as if to keep himself tethered to this dimension. Each time your lips slot into his intoxicates him several times more than any liquor can. For weeks he’s wondered what it would be like to kiss you, and now that it’s happening, he’s scared for the moment to ever stop, afraid that no matter how hard he tries to convince himself, it’ll lose its quality to be real, and he’ll be left to wonder if it truly happened.

You’re the first to pull back, slowly and carefully, like you fear he might fall apart if you move too fast — and he just might. 

As you catch your breath, faces still inches away from each other, the world slowly comes back. The music crescendos along with the collective buzz of scattered conversations and clinking glasses. Your eyes flutter open, slowly taking in the shiny emerald gaze and dilated pupils that look down at you, mesmerized.

An energetic voice calls your name from a few feet away. To Eren’s dismay, your hand loses its grip on his tie, falling to your lap as you tear your gaze from him to watch Sasha clumsily make her way to the booth. 

“Come on, Jean’s band is starting!”

She pulls you from your seat, urging you to follow her. Flustered, you slide out of the booth and allow her to drag you away, but not before looking back at a still dumbfounded Eren and saying “I’ll be right back.”

Eren watches you leave, the disappointment gradually settling into the deepest parts of him. He brings a hand to his lips to gently trace the place where you marked him with the pads of his fingers. He can still feel the plush of your lips against his. If he closes his eyes, he can conjure the moment again and replay it in his mind. The scent of your perfume lingers and it suddenly doesn’t seem like such a wild idea that he can deeply miss someone who’s only wandered a few feet from him.

“Okay, I had to get out of there. The girls are getting rowdy.”

Armin’s voice pulls Eren from his daze. He laughs as he slides into the booth next to his best friend. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, making note of Eren’s flustered state.

Eren turns his gaze to the cluster of empty glasses on the table. 

“We kissed,” he murmurs, a red tint pooling his cheeks.

Armin’s face goes through a myriad of emotions. His features contort from confusion to realization, to shock, and excitement. 

“Are you serious?” he yells enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear at the news. “Dude, that’s fucking awesome!” 

He gleefully drums his palms on Eren’s back, slipping in a few teasing punches to his arm.

“I fucking knew it, I frickin’ called it. I’m literally Cupid!”

Eren finally laughs, raising a hand to comb nervously through his hair.

“So what happens next?” Armin asks, shuffling to find a cozy angle to hound his friend.

Eren shakes his head, still hesitant to accept his new reality. It’s starting to look foreign to him and he’d hate to think the kiss was just a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing.

“I don’t know. What do I do, Armin?”

The panic on his face causes Armin to soften with sympathy.

“What do you wanna do?” he murmurs.

A soft laugh pushes past Eren’s lips.

“I wanna kiss her again.”

Armin scrunches his nose, but he can’t help but grin at Eren’s bashful confession and his adorable demeanor.

“Well, she’s right over there.”

He juts his chin in the direction of the crowd in front of the stage. 

Eren presses a fist to his mouth. His cheeks are still burning and his heart has yet to fully calm down from the erratic rhythm your sudden kiss provoked.

“I think I still need a minute to recover,” he murmurs.

You didn’t make it back to the booth as soon as Eren and you hoped. When you did, there was usually another person or two coming back to catch their breath, leaving you no privacy to talk about what needed to be talked about. Eren had a turn to be dragged away to watch Jean’s performance. After everyone was back at the booth, you volunteered to get Mikasa, Sasha, and Connie — the drunkest of your group — water to rehydrate. The entire time it seemed to Eren like his luck had run out for a second chance to be alone. 

You make your way to the bar, navigating between people sober and drunk just the same. A few minutes go by before you’re finally at the front of the line. 

“Three waters, please,” you say, holding up the same amount of fingers to the bartender. 

He promptly slides three bottles over the bar, a flirty grin on his face.

“Here you go, angel.”

When you don’t give him a reaction outside of politely nodding and thanking him while offering your card to pay, he kills off his coy demeanor. You start to make your way back to the booth, going over the exchange in your head and feeling awkward about it. You’re sure bartenders can act a bit friendly with patrons —  it’s part of the experience — but you’re not big on acting overly friendly with strangers. 

A tall, muscular figure bumps into you, causing your body to stumble back and your hands to lose their hold on the bottles. You glance up, ready to apologize before you can even collect your things, but you’re met with a pair of concerned eyes. 

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” 

He crouches down to retrieve the dropped bottles for you. When he stands again, he smiles at you warmly. 

“I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Again, I apologize.”

His polite manner seems sincere — certainly not like the kind other men have shown you.

For a moment, it seems like he hopes to hold a conversation with you. From the booth claimed by your group, a pair of stern emerald eyes watches the scene carefully, the owner ready to intervene against the man with his back to him. But the stranger’s chances of holding you up any longer are interrupted by a pretty girl calling his name — a name you don’t bother to register — from a few feet away as she stumbles her way to him. You catch a falter in his demeanor that goes as quickly as it arrives — though much too fast for you to get a hint of the emotion behind it. 

Before you can be witness to any foreign business, you murmur your own apology and thank him for his help before turning on your heel and continuing to where your friends are. 

“Sash, you don’t need two rides. I already told you, you and Connie live in the same apartment.” 

Armin pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. For the past ten minutes, he’s been trying to convince a still lightly buzzed Sasha that it doesn’t make sense for her and Connie to take separate rides. In her haze, she argued that it was completely reasonable for her to book a ride for herself and then book a second one for Connie once she made it to their apartment.

“Jean, you think you can go with them and make sure they get home safely?” 

Armin puts on his best pleading look for him. Jean clicks his tongue in aversion.

“No can do. I gotta take care of my girl.” He nods over to the bench outside of the bar where Mikasa is curled up in a way that should be uncomfortable but makes her look rather peaceful as she dozes off in fragments. 

Armin purses his lips, hands on his hips. 

“You know what? I give up, I’ll take them,” Armin huffs as he swipes Sasha’s phone from her hands and waits to be matched to a ride. He turns to you. “Oh, but we were supposed to ride together.”

You dismiss his offer with a wave of your hand. 

“I’m really not that tipsy. I can ride alone.” 

“You sure?” Armin’s eyebrows upturn in worry.

Eren raises his hand, a meek look on his face.

“I can make sure she gets home okay.”

“Don’t you live in opposite directions?” Jean smirks, as he hoists Mikasa up by her waist to prepare for their ride’s arrival.

Armin shoots him a warning glare over his shoulder. 

Jean clicks his tongue and theatrically smacks his forehead.

“Ah, no you don’t, silly me. I’m so out of it tonight.”

Ignoring Jean’s poor acting, you turn to Eren.

“You don’t have to. It’s fine,” you assure him.

“I want to,” he murmurs gently.

Chewing on your bottom lip, you nod. 

He whips out his phone to find a ride and minutes later, you all head your separate ways.

The ride to your apartment building is quiet, save for the low music playing on the radio. Eren can’t keep himself from stealing glances at your side profile from the corner of his eye, and you can feel the burn in your cheeks as you stare out the window.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, finally fed up with the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but he’s been fighting for a chance to talk to you since the kiss and this is a very brief opportunity, perhaps not to address what happened, but maybe just to get a feel for where you stand after the fact.

But you don’t seem up for a lengthy conversation, as you barely look back at him when you nod and reply with a solemn “I did”. 

He shrinks into his seat, chewing on his bottom lip as he tries to find a different tactic to get you to look at him. But again, his luck seems to have run out, as you hit every green light on the way to your apartment. Sooner than he would’ve liked, the car comes to a halt in front of the brick building.

In a desperate attempt to collect a couple more minutes with you, he climbs out of the car with you. 

“I’ll walk you up,” he says. You just nod and turn to lead the way. 

There’s a hint of tension as you ride the elevator to the third floor. There’s something awkwardly polite about the strict distance you maintain until the elevator dings and you step into the hallway.

The silence between you has never felt so dreadful to Eren now that there’s something he so badly wants to talk about. But how does one bring up a surprise kiss if not right after it happened? By now it seems too embarrassing to suggest for conversation, even if it did happen less than two hours ago. The moment has passed, and if you don’t seem willing to talk, maybe it’s because you’re hoping to leave it in the past. 

You stop in front of your apartment door, number 307, and fish around your purse for your keys. Eren steps back in preparation to bid you goodbye as soon as the lock clicks open. 

“I’ll see you a—”

“Do you want some tea?” 

The question tumbles so quickly from your lips that he almost doesn’t comprehend it.

He blinks at you in surprise. A flutter stirs in his stomach at the idea of entering your apartment — your personal space. He doesn’t even think Armin has been inside before. It’s exciting. There’s a look in your eyes he’s never seen before. They shine differently now — with hope.

He runs a nervous hand through his hair and clears his throat, nodding fervently.

“Yeah, tea… tea sounds incredible right now.”

You release a breath of relief and push open the door, welcoming him to your corner of the world.

A flick of a switch bathes the area in bright, warm light. Eren soaks up every detail of your home, not wanting to miss a single thing. There’s a bookshelf overflowing with hardcovers and paperbacks, a collection too big for its modest size that you’ve opted for stacking anything that couldn’t fit on the floor beside it. A handmade blanket in warm colors is thrown over the loveseat fixed in front of the TV. Everything is colored in joyful pastel hues with a few more vibrant splashes from vases with flowers and some ceramic figurines scattered along the windowsill and the furniture — a stark contrast to your mostly neutral wardrobe. It’s all neatly put together save for a single forgotten book left at a careless angle on the coffee table — likely to be your current read — and a faint cinnamon scent wafts in the air, the probable work of a candle or an infuser somewhere. There are three more doors he assumes lead to your bedroom, the bathroom, and perhaps a storage closet.  

You toss your purse, headband, and coat onto the sofa and make your way across the open space to the kitchen, turning back to ask him to follow with an inviting look.

You move in silence to fill a pink tea kettle with water and set it on the stove. Your hands rummage through your pantry to find a pair of teabags to set aside while you wait for the kettle to whistle. 

“Your place is really nice,” Eren murmurs as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. “It’s very… colorful.”

The corners of your lips tug into an awkward smile.

“Does it not suit me?”

He chuckles softly, bringing a fist up to cover his amusement.

“No, it does,” he says, looking around once more. “It’s a nice surprise, to be honest.”

Your lips curl inwards as you nod. 

An easy silence blankets the room until the kettle signals the water’s ready. 

Eren stands to help you. 

“Where do you keep your mugs?”

You point to the cupboard next to his head as you grab a tea towel to wrap around the kettle.

He sets two mugs on the counter next to the stove — a yellow one for you, a blue one for him — and starts wandering around in search of something.

“You want sugar, right?” he asks, going through his memory of the time you met at the coffee shop. 

He spots a set of green ceramic containers on the counter and starts reaching for them until your voice interrupts him. 

“Actually, I'll have it with honey. It’s over there.”

You point him to the pantry where you took the tea bags from.  

A proud grin takes over his face as he strides over.

“I see I've spread the honey gospel.” 

You smile.

“Not really,” you murmur. “I use honey all the time. That day we met at the coffee shop was just an exception.”

He pouts.

“Why the sudden change back then?” he asks.

You shrug as you transport the mugs to the bar and fetch a honey wand from a drawer.

“Some stupid reason. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Eren’s brow furrows in confusion, but he doesn’t press any further. You take a seat next to each other and take turns with the honey wand before your first careful sip of tea. 

A fuzzy feeling swells in his chest when Eren looks over at you. The domesticity of the situation has him biting back a smile. He loses himself in your image for a moment. the way your hands nurse the mug as you blow at your tea, and the sheen left on your lips after you take a sip. Maybe this — being welcomed into your home and sitting beside each other while you share tea — is all he needs to gain some clarity on where your head is at. 

He takes another sip and sets his mug down, the heat threatening his pain tolerance in his hands.

“So, you live alone?” he asks.

You nod. 

“Yeah, I’m kind of a lone wolf.” You pause and start smiling. “I might be growing out of it, though.”

“What do you mean?”

A few seconds tick by as you ponder for an answer.

“I’ve never had this many friends before. I just keep to myself, usually, and that's worked great my whole life. But now I’m really happy to have met everybody.” You smile. “I’m having a lot of fun being surrounded by more people now. I can feel myself becoming a different person.”

He mirrors your expression as he returns his gaze to his tea. Your words tug at his heartstrings. Frankly, he couldn’t be any happier to hear those words come out of your mouth.

“I also told a guy I wasn’t into dating, but now I’m hoping he didn’t take it to heart.”

Your words echo in Eren’s head as he turns to look at you with hopeful eyes.

“Me?”

The question has him feeling stupid, but he has to know you aren’t talking about someone else, that it can only be him. 

Your timid gaze has his chest pounding furiously against his ribs. It’s not until you nod that he finally releases the breath that was caught in his throat.

“I thought that— You said you didn’t see me that way.”

Your expression softens.

“You kind of grew on me,” you murmur, looking down at the remaining tea in your mug as your cheeks warm with shyness.

Eren watches you in awe as you bite down on your bottom lip, too focused on the yellow mug to even notice his shaking hands and burning cheeks.  

The following seconds pass by in slow motion. Eren’s warm hands wrap around your face, demanding your attention as he closes the gap between you. Like you at the bar, he spares a split second for you to realize what’s happening before slotting his lips against yours. You sigh into his mouth as an instant fever courses through your body. 

His strong hands pull you closer in his desperate need to devour you. It’s all much more real now. Now he knows how you feel, and you’ve known how he’s felt about you this entire time so all that’s left to do is act on it. 

One of his hands drops its firm caress on your face to pull you from your seat by the waist and settle you on his lap. He presses you into his chest, relishing in the soft moans you pour into his mouth. 

It’s a moment that he’s sure will be etched in his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart thumps erratically, threatening to break free from its cage. Your breathing has grown shallow and eyebrows upturned in desperation as you cling onto his shirt. His cologne travels to your nose, enveloping you in a comforting embrace as the hand he has pressed against the small of your back pushes you closer to him with every wanton kiss.

You pull back abruptly, breathless, chest heaving, and eyebrows knit together as you swallow thickly.

“You okay?” Eren asks, equally short of breath.

You nod. 

“I just— I keep forgetting to breathe… and it feels like my heart is about to burst out of my chest.”

You look down at him with distress painted across your features.

“I'm sorry.”

For the second time since Eren met you, you look so small and fragile even if your compromising position has him tilting his face up to look at you. 

“You're joking, right?” he murmurs.

With a tremor still consuming his bones, he peels your right hand from his shirt and slides it down his chest, resting it right above his heart. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, watching you closely to see if you understand his message and the effect you have on him — he’s right there with you. 

The erratic beat of his heart thumps against your palm. You stare at your linked hands, completely mesmerized by how perfectly your hand fits in his and how ardently his heart beats for you. 

A soft laugh travels past your lips as you find relief in Eren’s matching anxiety. 

Without removing your hand from where he’s pressed it, you bury your face into the crook of his neck.

You stay there for as long as it takes for your breathing to steady and your heartbeats to sync to a peaceful rhythm.

“I got scared when you barely talked to me on the way here.” 

The vibrations of his voice are a comforting sensation; if you could snuggle further into his chest, you would.  

“I thought you were regretting what happened at the bar.”

Your breath tickles his neck when you laugh.

“I just didn’t want to talk in front of our driver.”

It’s his turn to laugh and if you could capture the sound in a bottle to cherish forever, you would.

“I have a question.”

You hum in encouragement, feeling yourself grow sleepy in his embrace. 

“If I ask you out on a date right now, will you say yes this time?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to check my planner; now that I'm open to dating I’ll be pretty busy.”

You can’t tell from your angle, but you can hear the amused grin in his voice when he talks again.

“Ah, right, of course. I wouldn’t want to make a fool of myself all over again,” he jokes, rolling his eyes.

Neither of you makes a move to separate from each other. His thumb makes soft strokes against the back of your hand.

“I really like you,” he murmurs.

“I know,” you murmur back. “I really like you, too.”

“Did I tell you how pretty you look dressed like an angel?”

You straighten your posture but remain on his lap.

“Not once the entire night. I'm actually kind of disappointed,” you joke.

He stifles a laugh.

“The things you do to me, I swear,” he whispers as you lean forward, brushing your noses together. “I couldn’t stop looking at you. I felt like I was losing my mind.”

He leans closer, nipping at your bottom lip teasingly before pressing a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth.

Your phone buzzes from inside your bag on the sofa.

“You think it’s an emergency?” he whispers against your lips.

“Not likely,” you whisper back before returning his kiss.

You’re fully prepared to ignore whoever is on the other end, but the buzzing refuses to cease, so you ultimately stand to answer the call, though with much reluctance.

“Hey, Armin.”

Eren brings a fist to his mouth, mentally cursing at his best friend for interrupting such a tender moment.

“Yeah, I made it home safe… Eren? Oh, um…”

You turn to Eren for a sign of what to say. You’ve never been in this situation before, so you’re unsure of what to do. 

Eren mouths a response you struggle to understand.

“He’s… he’s still here.”

Eren’s jaw drops. You shrug innocently.

“Yeah… he’s on his way out though. We just had tea… Oh god, Armin.”

Eren watches your flustered demeanor closely, trying to make sense of the buzzing that reaches his ears from your phone — he deciphers nothing.

“Well, you can come over next time… okay… bye.”

You hang up.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. Just something about never getting to see my apartment,” you mutter with a shake of your head.

He laughs as he makes his way over to you.

“He’s definitely gonna hound me later for this,” he groans, rubbing his hands down his face. 

He rolls his shoulders back as he catches a glimpse of the time from the clock on your wall. “Oh, man, I really should be heading out, though.”

“I’ll walk you to the elevator,” you offer, already leading the way to the door.

The two of you walk side by side, now close enough for your shoulders to occasionally brush against each other. You exchange secretive glances along the way, biting down on smiles as you recall the events of the night.

When Eren steps into the elevator, you wave him goodbye. A second before the doors close, his hand shoots out to keep them open.

Your eyebrows rise in question.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow, then? Or, I guess, later.”

He watches your lips part and eyes wander in confusion.

“For what?”

“Our first date,” he grins. “Or is it too soon?”

A pleasant warmth tingles in your stomach as you try your best to contain your smile, but the excitement in your eyes shimmers brightly for him.

“No,” you say. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”

His lips curl inwards to keep himself from grinning harder. He nods.

“I’ll pick you up for lunch, then? Two o’clock.”

You smile and nod. He smiles back.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eren.”

October 27, 2024

There’s nothing I hate more than loose women. They’re the worst. Always throwing themselves onto men and desperately groveling for attention. That’s why I had to kill this one. Disgusting little whore wouldn’t quit following me around the bar the whole night. 

But the good news is, I met a girl tonight. An angel. She was a vision from my purest dreams dressed in white with a halo on her head, smiling and laughing with her sloppy drunken friends. But she’s different from them, I can tell. If she could just smile at me the same way she smiled at him, maybe then I’ll be satisfied. If I could just have her smile at me every day, I’d be so happy. I'll do anything to have that look of adoration directed at me.

I wasn’t even looking to fall in love tonight and yet there she was. It has to be fate.

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[inkandpen22]

First Meeting

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader 

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Y/N begins her 1st day as a member of the BAU and Spencer is immediately taken by her

A/N: I’m always adding new one shots for Reid so if you’d like to be tagged lmk!

Masterlist

Spencer

Garcia comes up beside me on my way to the meeting room, all excited and bouncy. "Did you hear we're getting a newbie today?" 

I stop in my tracks with a huff. "Wait, what? No! No one told me!" JJ walks by on her way to the briefing and I ask her. "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?" 

"Hotch is bringing her up now," JJ grins over her shoulder. 

"Her?" I repeat, following her into the room. 

"Yeah, he's going to introduce her during the UnSub briefing," Morgan adds as he takes his usual set. 

"Did everyone know about this before me?" I sigh, plopping down in my chair. 

"Apparently," Morgan pokes fun. 

"Morning everyone," Hotch greets as he marches into the room. 

"Morning," everyone else greets as I set my stuff down. 

"Good-" My words disappear as I lift my attention away from my files toward the door and that's when I see her. 

"This is Agent Y/N Y/L/N," Hotch introduces. "She is of the most recent Quantico graduating class and will be joining our team." 

"Nice to meet you, Y/N," JJ offers Y/N her hand. 

The girl shakes her hand with a warm smile. "You too! Thank you guys for letting me sit in," she announces to the group. 

I swallow hard. She's so young, she's like me. 

"How old are you anyway?" Morgan questions, leaning back in his chair. 

"Twenty-two," she answers. I knew it. "I graduated undergrad early." 

"Aw like Spence," Prentiss gushes. 

I don't even react to Prentiss petting my hair. Usually, I would swat her hand away. All I can do is stare at Y/N. I've lost all function like a robot missing a piece. 

"Spencer?" JJ says my name with a hint of worry. It sounds like background noise, so faint. 

Morgan chuckles. "I think Reid's head just exploded." 

"Earth to Spencer," Prentiss waves her hand in front of my face. 

I snap out of my daze and swat her hand away. "Stop it," I mumble. 

A blush forms on my cheeks, I can feel it. I clear my throat nervously and try to act normal as I open up my file. Y/N takes the empty chair across the table from me. She offers me a smile. I feel this weird feeling in my stomach like I've had too much coffee and am all jittery. 

JJ redirects everyone's attention to the screen. "Okay guys, let's begin. We've been receiving a series of calls from several police stations in Atlanta. There's been a series of livestock killings ranging from pigs to more commonly lambs. Each stabbed and hearts removed. Then, symbols painting on her foreheads and stomachs." 

"Go back please," Y/N requests, surprising everyone. 

JJ's brows scrunch together. "Do you see something, Y/N?" 

"The locals think it's a cult?" She asks. 

JJ looks over her papers and nods. "Yes actually." 

"It's not," Y/N states with the utmost certainty. 

My brows scrunch together as I begin to analyze the image myself. I wasn't paying attention before. I hate to admit it, but I was distracted. She's right, this isn't the work of a cult. 

"How can you tell?" Hotch questions with narrowed eyes. 

"The pentagram is wrong," I answer. My eyes meet Y/N's and she smiles. 

"We're more likely dealing with teens or college students, outcasts, trying to scare the community," she adds. "Is that a college nearby?" 

JJ skims her research and pulls out a sheet. "Yes, two." 

"Does one of a greater population of local students?" I ask. 

"Um..." JJ reads. "Yes." 

"I think we should start there," Y/N concludes. 

Hotch nods, rising from his chair. "Okay, wheels up in an hour everyone. Prepare," he instructs before heading to the door. "Good work, Y/N." 

"Thank you, Sir," she grins, evidently proud of herself. 

"Now there's two of him," Morgan chuckles as he gathers his things. 

Y/N laughs. "What?" 

"He's referring to me," I assure her. "The way you noticed the unfinished pentagram and narrowed down the profile, usually, I do that." 

"Oh, sorry!" She's quick to apologize. 

"No, no!" I wave my hands in a panic. "It's nice having someone else around who notices details like that. Makes me feel less annoying and a know-it-all." 

______________________________________

Y/N

Hotchner, Reid, and I stand on the other side of the one-way mirror as our next interviewee gets settled in by the police. He's a student at the local university and fits the M.O. A complete outsider, impressionable, a history of emotional disorders and animal abuse, it's a perfect match. 

"Sir, do you think Spencer and I could go in?" I request. 

Hotchner raises a brow. "Do you think you're ready?" 

"Yes, and just in case that's why I ask to have Spencer with me." 

"Spencer, what do you think?" The leader questions, watching as the cops release Brian from his handcuffs and depart the room. 

Spencer glances past Hotchner over to me. He nods. "I think she's ready, Sir." 

I suppress a smile and redirect my attention to our potential UnSub.��

"Very well, go ahead," Hotchner approves. 

"Thank you, Sir," I say as I head toward the door. 

Spencer holds the door for me and we step out into the hall. 

Before we enter the interview room, I had my file over to Spencer. 

"Here, could you hold this for a second?" 

He takes the stack nervously. "What... What are you doing?" 

"I have an idea." I remove my scrunchie from my hair and toss it around a bit. Spencer watches as I slip my scrunchie onto my wrist and begin to unbotton the top to buttons of my blouse. I readjust my boobs a little and pull down my blouse. I take the waist of my skirt and pull it up a little. "How do I look?" I ask the boy when I'm done. 

"I... uh... I..." He stammers. 

"Perfect!" I smile, taking back my things. 

I enter the room first, Spencer following close behind. "Hi Brian, I'm Agent Y/L/N and this is Agent Dr. Reid," I introduce as we take our seats across the table. 

"You two look like you could go to my school," Brian laughs. "How old are you guys anyway?" 

 I smile and ignore his question and stick to the topic. "We're just going to ask you a few questions." 

Brian smirks. "Well, can I ask you something first?" 

"Of course," I assure him. 

"Can I have your number?" He asks boldly. 

"I um..." I'm at a loss for words. 

"I don't think that's very appropriate." Spencer defends with a stern tone. 

"What? Are you her boyfriend or something?" Brian mocks. 

"Uh no, but this isn't a personal conversation this is an investigation, so let's stick to only necessary questions," 

Brian complies and I continue my interview. He gets off track here and there, but Spencer steps in. I'm thankful that Spencer is quiet for the most part, only when to redirect Brian back to the purpose of our interview. I feel calmer with Spencer next to me. For some reason, his presence makes me feel safe even though we may have a serial animal abuser and cult member across the table from us. When I conclude our interview, Spencer and I rise from our chairs. I tell Brian that authorities will be in soon to take more of his information. 

"So how's about a date?" He asks again for a third time within the last thirty minutes. 

I ignore him as Spencer opens the door for me. 

"What? I'm not your type?" The kid chuckles. 

I stop and spin on my heels to face Brian. I press my palms against the table and lean closer to the boy, startling him. "Frankly no, you're not. I'm into older guys and... well..." I eye him up and down and giggle. "You're nothing but a kid." 

He swallows hard, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. I smirk and step outside into the hall. Spencer joins me and shuts the door behind us. He wears a bewildered expression. I begin to tie my hair up again and button up my shirt. 

"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he voices as we head toward the door to the watch room.  

I shrug. "Eh it's okay, he's just a kid. Plus, I'm used to it." 

When we enter, Morgan and Hotchner are still observing Brian's behavior. Morgan steps closer to Hotchner, making room for Spencer and me. I catch a glimpse of Brian through the mirror and his head is in his hands. 

"Good work," Hotchner compliments us. 

"Interesting approaching," Morgan nods. "Seems to be working." 

"Thank you," I grin, bringing my arms crossed over my chest. "I figured it was worth a shot. 

A comfortable silence remains in the room as the four of us watch Brian slowly crumble. 

Spencer leans closer to me and I extend my neck out to him. "Is it true, what you said about being into older guys?" He questions quietly between us. 

I turn my head to look at him and his face is full of curiosity. "How old are you?" I ask. 

His brows scrunch together. "Twenty-seven." 

I smile, turning my attention back to Brian as he continues to fidget. "Yes, it's true." I back up to step outside and fetch a coffee. I suspect this will be a long night. 

Spencer

Right as Y/N steps out, Morgan sighs. "Aw Reid, you're in trouble man," he laughs. 

Hotch chuckles from beside him. 

I frown. "What do you mean?" 

"Seriously?" Morgan raises a brow as he turns his body to face me. "She just told you she's into you." 

"No, she didn't, she just asked me how old I am and told me-" I pause, reviewing our interaction just seconds prior and I begin to piece it all together. My eyes grow wide. "Holy crap, she's into me!" 

"You better jump on that, Big Guy!" Morgan pats me on the shoulder. 

Hotch wears a sly grin, pretending to be focused on Brian, but it's evident he's amused by us. 

__________________________________

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