#just woke up to read chapter 72 and i am

[shidoukanae]

Did a study of a panel i like for a manga with absolutely my favorite female character i've seen yet and thought i'd post it here too in the hopes of eventually finding fans of this series when they inevitably, like me, look for more content of this story :'D

I could gush about this funny, lovestarved, absolutely downright sympathetic and villainous lady who absolutely deserves to be family with the protag for so many hours if you let me she is literally so perfect and everything I have ever wanted from female characters before.

I've gone from going "ooooo she's such a cool antagonist who is such a funny little mystery i LOVE her" to "yeah she's kind of on the insane spectrum but tbf who wouldn't be fucked up in her situation TwT" to "i WILL cry over her and she is completely in the right for doing what she's doing and i can't believe i ever believed she wasn't the heroine she's supposed to be :'D"

[faegoddessog]

 Seventy Two Hours of Bliss Ch. 10/41

Chapter 10: Shower Kisses

Chapter Warnings: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only, anal negotiation, anal play (male receiving) fellatio , fingering, cunnilingus, light spanking

Series Masterlist

Series Summary:

You are neighbors with Austin Butler on the Gold Coast of Australia just prior to shooting Elvis. You become just friends because he is taken. However, after he is single again, you both find out just how attracted you are to one another and things get unrelentingly hot.

SERIES WARNING: Explicitly mature content, 18+ only,  here there be lemons.

Authors Notes: I started writing this while remodeling my kitchen, so that informed the slightly quirky narrative. It starts slow, but once it heats up, it is on fire. I have tried to pull facts from RL as much as I could, but obviously there are some assumptions and flat out dreamy wishes  involved here. 

Chapter 10: Shower Kisses

You wake up with sunlight streaming in the room. You are under the covers with Austin’s arms around you. You realize there is a towel pressed against your crotch and belly. He must have gotten it for you after you dozed off, meaning you didn’t just dream of him as a dark god coming to take you, he actually did. You roll over and snuggle up to his chest.

“Mornin’ darlin’” he says with a smile in his voice.

“Mmm, good morning indeed. That did really happen in the wee hours, right?” you ask only partially joking.

“Oh yes, yes it did," he chuckles, "when I woke up you were begging me to fuck you. And when you told me what you were dreaming about I almost lost it.”

“I sorta remember a mermaid or hands or something?” the details were a bit fuzzy, but you remember it was hot.

“Oh yes, there was a mermaid with two tongues and hands holding you and me… in your ass…” he trails off.

“Oh… yeah,” it is coming back to you now.

“When you, um, said you’d let me, y’know, fuck you in the ass, I was so fucking turned on, I don’t know what came over me,” apparently the light of day was making him a bit shy, so many things are easier said in the dark.

You pull away doing your best to look shocked, “What! I told you that?!”

His face freezes and his eyes widen. "uh...."

You take pity on him and start giggling, “I’m kidding, I remember.”

His lips purse in mock anger, “Oh, you are gonna pay for that girlie!”

He rolls to the side of the bed, sitting up and drags you belly-down across his lap. He gives you one, two moderate slaps on the ass. They bring to mind yesterday morning’s scene. You can feel the heat beginning inside and you moan a little. He gives you one more hard slap that makes you squeal, then sits you up.

“The real punishment is 'ats all you git!” he declares in his Elvis voice to your pouting face.

You both laugh as he pulls you in close and kisses your forehead.

“But seriously, have you done anal before?” he asks boldly.

“A couple times,” you say a bit nervous yourself, ”I mean, I like ass play, but haven’t trusted that many people to actually fuck me there. It can be… you have to… it’s kinda a process… and it’s really intimate.” You are self conscious all of a sudden, memories of the last one night stand and a not-so-polite attempt by a mistake of a dude.

“We don’t have to….” he says hugging you around the shoulders, consolingly.

“Oh no no, don’t read me wrong babe, I am excited about it. I want it and I want you to give it to me.” You take his face in your hands and make him look you in the eye, “Austin, I wouldn't have agreed to these 72 hours if I didn’t trust you totally and completely. You got that?” He nods. “I may just need to go slow.”

“Oh my god, of course babe. With lube and starting small and all that.,“ he says reassuringly.

“Have you done anal before?” you ask.

“No, she would never even entertain the idea,” he said, talking about his ex.

“Oh, so I get to pop your dinglecherry!” you laugh.

“I guess so,” he kisses your forehead again.

You both brush your teeth and get into the shower where he asks if he can wash your hair. His fingers feel so good on your scalp as he shampoos and conditions your locks. As he rinses your hair, he leans down and kisses you, water running over your mouths. It is slow and sensual.

“I love shower kisses,” he says low and gravelly.

“Mmm, like a shower beer, but far sexier and just as intoxicating,” you jest.

He gently washes your whole body with a sudsy poof. He slides his slippery hands down the crack of your ass and across your asshole, making you clench and moan just a little.

“Just getting acquainted, are you?” you ask, angling your hips back to allow him more access.

“I think it’s only polite,” he replies as rubs just a bit more, then rinses you off.

“What a gentleman you are,” you observe as you raise your arms to let him rinse all of you.

“I try,” he admits.

“My turn,” you say, grabbing the shampoo.

He sits down on the little seat in the shower. You stand between his legs, breasts in his face and shampoo his dark hair. He takes the opportunity to lick the water off your tit and pull a nipple into his mouth. His hands are spread across your back, holding you to him. He is gentle and you are both just enjoying the physical touch. You tilt his head back, and as you rinse his hair with the wand, you lean down and kiss him again. More shower kisses.

You pull him to standing and, with the poof, squeeze suds onto his chest, spreading it with your hands. Tracing the edges of his pecs, watching the soap run in rivulets down his abs and over his semi-hard cock. You continue to wash his arms and armpits and sides and down his legs, leaving his crotch alone, for now. Then you turn him around and tell him to put his hands up on the wall above him. You suds up his back, massaging his traps and down his spine and over his glutes.

His head is hanging down on his chest. He is making little groans of relaxed pleasure. You are fully enjoying the feel of him under your hands. You get his legs and feet. You press your body close to his back, the feel of his slippery skin on your breasts is delightful. You reach around his hip, sudsing up his balls, then his cock just enough to hear him growl in the back of his throat and feel it twitch in your hands.

Deciding turnabout is fair play, you slowly slide your own slippery hand down his crack, expecting him to ask you to stop at any second. Instead, he spreads his legs just a little, giving you access to him. You gently slide across his asshole with your fingers. You feel him clench just a little as your fingers glide up to his balls. You give him a couple more strokes back to front while stroking his now hard dick from behind, before pulling away to grab the wand and rinse him off. After all, no one wants soap in their bits.

He turns around, nostrils flaring, lips pressed together, his eyes hedonistically dark, watching you as you rinse his front. He takes the wand from your hand, puts it in its holder and grabs the conditioner behind your head.

He enfolds you in a kiss before asking, “That felt really good, will you do it again?”

“Have you done this before?” you ask.

He shakes his head. “I mean not with anyone else, I’ve played a bit with myself, but…”

He takes your hand as you nod and squirts some conditioner in it, then turns around, elbows on the wall, head looking down at his cock, legs spread. You spread conditioner on both hands and reach around again, one hand on his hard rod, the other slides down his crack to his asshole. You begin rubbing in circles with your middle finger while giving him long slow strokes on his shaft.

“Oh yeah,” he groans.

“You tell me if you want more, you are in charge,” you say.

You continue for a couple minutes.

“Push harder,” he commands.

You press his ass harder, rubbing back and forth, matching your movements with your other hand. He arches his back, head tossed back. He looks delicious.

“You want my finger in you?” you ask in his ear.

He nods his head, “Go slow.”

“Of course baby,” you murmur.

You have ample lube and start to press gently at his hole, still stroking his cock slowly.

“Relax, baby, breathe” you say, as you press harder, going in just a bit.

“Oh gaw,” he moans as you pull out a little, then press in a little farther, leaving your finger in as you stroke his cock.

“Deeper,” he says.

A smile spreads on your face as you press in more. He moans as you direct some attention to his tip, circling his head.

“Deeper,” he groans. This angle is bad, you decide.

“I want you in my mouth too, let me move.” He nods and you slowly pull out as he inhales statically. Grabbing the wand, you rinse his cock while rubbing it up and down to get all the conditioner off.

This is going to be fucking hot.

You sit down on the bench in front of him while he squeezes a little more conditioner into one hand. Holding his wet cock, you guide it to your mouth as you reach under his balls and back to his ass with the conditioner filled one. It is easier to slide into him this time. Your tongue is slurping the water from his cock, as you slide down on to him, deeper, deeper all the way to the back of your throat, as you press further into his ass. He is groaning in pleasure. The thick spit from the back of your throat comes up. You spread it around with your tongue and lips as you slide back up.

Your finger curves to the front and finds the round lump of his prostate. Gently you start massaging it as you keep sliding up and down on his cock, tongue rolling on his head.

“Oh fuck yes,” he says between incoherent moans.

He grabs your head with one hand and starts fucking your mouth. God you love that.

You keep focus on his prostate, curling your finger towards you rhythmically. You look up at him, he is watching his cock slide in and out of your mouth. You can taste some of his come leaking out on the back of your tongue.

Oh my god this is hot. Your hips are rocking back and forth on the tiled seat.

“Holy fuck, yes!” he says through gritted teeth. His thrusting speeds up, you anchor your finger onto his prostate, wiggling the tip. His head throws back as he spurts down your throat and a scream rips from his. You swallow greedily, some of it leaking from the corner of your mouth. He is shaking, barely able to stand. You slowly pull your finger out of his ass. He sinks to the floor of the shower. You quickly wash your hands and then cradle him against you.

“You ok, love?", you ask.

He nods his head. Once his panting subsides, he looks up at you and smiles. Reaching up to your face, he pulls you into a kiss, licking the drop of his cum from the corner of your mouth. FUCK that is so hot.

“My god baby, that was the most intense orgasm I have ever had. Thank you.”

“That was so. Fucking. Hot.” You can’t help but squirm your soaked pussy against the tile with every word.

He sees you rocking your hips, “Let me repay you darlin’,” he says with that Elvis voice as he pulls your legs apart.

You almost start coming right then and there, yeah this isn’t going to take long.

He pulls you to the edge of the seat, rubs his thumb around your clit, then slides two fingers inside you. He leans in and starts to lick you.

“Oh yeah, finger-fuck that pussy,” you are too hot to start gentle.

He smiles against your folds, and starts gliding in and out. His tongue making circles around your nub.

“Harder!” you demand.

Little squishy noises emanate from your pussy as he slams his fingers into you, slurping at your clit. You look down. This man, who let you finger fuck his ass before he even got to do the same to you, this kind, amazing, sexy, god of a man has his face buried in your pussy, fingers ramming into you.

You grab his head and grind into his face as you cream on his fingers, crying through clenched teeth, “Oh. My. God! YESSSSS!!” Your back arches, your palm is slamming the wall of the shower while you grip his hair with the other hand.

He sits back, face wet with your cum. “Geeze, I would never get tired of that,” he says with a satisfying smirk, water running down his chest.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you pant.” but my god this is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”

You take his face in your hands, “Thank you sugar,” and lean in to kiss him.

[blugnettabutterflies]

CRIMINAL CASE CONSPIRACY CASE 52 SPOILERS

Now that I have seen this case, wrecking me apart... I have a few questions that probably I get out of the radar and I'm too stupid to remember.

I'll put them in read more because it can be sensitive.

And let me know what you think, I would love to see your imput!! And so sorry if I messed up

The questions and topics will go specifically into Jones's attempt's side of the additional chapter, because HOLY SPIRIT THAT FIRST SCENE SHOULDN'T HAVE HIT ME THAT BAD YET HERE WE ARE.

Ok everyone.

... You think Ramirez ever find out around Jones' Attempt?

Because Ramirez is heavily fond to him, he was the one who gave the player the idea to get to MARCONI'S SCENE to get the tapes. How so you think he reacted?

I mean, I feel eventually he found out about everything, but probably was the last one to know. Probably letting him be at his house to keep him company instead of just leaving him there on his own.

I wonder how his therapy sessions went after that.

Because as far as I knew he was going to therapy. Just.. imagine. Probably when we were finding the letter or taking care of the other side with Louis, his therapist probably gave him a visit. And even after the letter, those sensations doesnt go away that easily. No wonder they make him have an undefined leave. A lot going on.

You think he had to be put to the mental health facility? Or just went home?

I mean obviously not in the same facility, the one where Zoe was and some others want to make his life hell alreadybis the biggest red flag. Maybe another one, near town? Idk, just a silly thought.

After all, he had to go through a mental health evaluation for probably the next 72 hours he had to stay in the room since he woke up.

And let's be real, even when it's a game, a letter could be able to give someone the will to live. But it can be damaged with other stuff happening. It's not easy.

Is Astrid even alive at that point?

Because if she is, she would have ended up alone without her "Temporary" owner... man.

I mean she could have passed away from old age or something, Zoe met Astrid... if she is dead then there's another point to add to the culmination of things that led him to this.

Edit: Not only Astrid is probably alive at that point, DAVID IS ALSO HIS OWNER, THIS MAKES THINGS WAY HEAVIER.

... How is Gabriel doing?

Because I am so sure those were his sedatives. He was the one who at the start of the case gave it to him so he could rest up after his breakdown. And probably was trying for him to talk it out. And suddenly he finds Jones on the ground with an empty pill bottle, with other members trying to get him to a hospital. He must have had a lot of guilt.

Well I know that professionals usually have their techniques to not get so messed up over this kind of situations, let alone over mental health, but I believe some feeling was there.

[agirlwritingthingsforgirlstoread]

The Dizleys Chapter 2: Wake Up with Roy and Cas Dizley

The next morning Cas woke up to Roy splayed across their king-sized bed, arms stretched out, legs bent in different directions. He tiny beads of sweat on his forehead. When she woke up, usually before him, she was instantly transported from her dreamland to the world they'd built together. It was comfortable, loving, and warm. Too warm. Now that she'd properly gathered her mind, she'd noticed that those tiny beads of sweat on her husband weren't so tiny after all. He was drenched in his body's natural cooling system, and muttering something in his sleep.

She checked his forehead. "Feels like a fever?" she thought to herself. But she then noticed the growing puddle of sweat that pierced through her her pajamas. "Maybe we're both sick?" She got out of bed and checked the setting on the air conditioner. It was off but that was normal. She was more concerned about what the temperature was inside. Her eyes widened as she read digital screen. "88 degrees!? How on earth??" She immediately turned the temperature down to a cool 72 degrees and dashed away to the freezer to grab two ice packs. When she returned to their bedroom Roy had awakened and was sitting on the edge of the bed, drinking a bottle of water.

"Oh you're finally up I see," he murmured between gulps. "I'm finally up!?" Cas smiled at this indignant implication. "Darling I thought I'd have to awaken you with a swift kick." "I was actually up and down all night. Kept having some pretty strange nightmares." "Was it about the song?" "Yes," replied Roy. But more broadly, about my father. We're extremely wealthy people Cas. We made this company from scratch. And I'm the luckiest man alive because I get to say I made something beautiful with my literal soulmate. "I concur. but?" Roy sighs a bit. "I love you, you're my entire world, you're my muse, my partner, and my best friend." Cas wasn't sure she liked how this conversation was going. "Is there a reason you're reciting what sounds like an updated version of our wedding vows?"

"Honey, when my dad died, I just felt like my inspiration died with him. I was so angry with him for always belittling me, for making me feel like an idiot boy with dreams. So much of my drive was about proving him wrong. I hate that about myself I do. But the more I try to write this song, the more I realize that the spark is just....gone." "I don't think that's true Roy." "No?" he responded. You've known me since we were Kindergarten. Perhaps I'm missing something?" "You are." She sat down next to him on the bed and wrapped her legs around him while holding his hands.

Roy ignored the involuntary twitch in his pants. He wanted to be fully present to hear what his wife had to say. "You're missing the fact that you're grieving. Not just the loss of your father, but the loss of the relationship you've always wanted. I don't think your creativity was fueled by spite for him. But rather there was so much love you had for him and he didn't accept love the same way you gave it. So your creativity was more about figuring out ways to show him you love him in a way that he'd' be able to receive. Also I think we're in the middle of a heatwave. We're both pretty sweaty."

She tried to get the words out before Roy buried his head in her ample bosom but she was too late. "Yup definitely sweaty. Shower?" He said as he began to unhook the pink sports bra she swore up and down counted as pajamas. He lifted his head up to look into her eyes, realizing his mistake. "You're right by the way. You usually are. I'm sorry I wasn't trying to gloss over or ignore what you were saying. What you were saying rang so true for me that I realized that I can't write this song because I'm not anywhere close to the acceptance phase of grief yet. I am struggling to even grasp how complex the relationship with my father was, like you said. And, well if you don't mind, I could use a bit of a....distraction right now. Is that okay?"

As much as Cas wanted to continue the conversation, she thought better of it. Forcing people to talk when they don't know how they feel rarely ends well. Also her husband's dark brown, golden skin was literally glowing right now and her own loins were beginning to stir. She began to think that straddling her husband to comfort him had been a strategic misfire, as she noticed how rock hard he'd become.

Aching to get out of her clothes for a few reasons, she slipped his hands into her panties and pressed her lips firmly on his. His eyes grew big as he gently explored her area, sliding a figure in for good measure. "That's'.....not sweat." "No, it isn't."

[estelle-lee]

pool of tears 🏊‍♀️ - 25th August, 2023

Book: Creation

ok so whatever the fk got to me yesterday evening, i woke up and started to re-read Creation and now i regret it.

I. FUCKING. REGRET. IT.

the book was great. 10/10 would highly recommend.

BUT IT MADE ME CRY AT 2 AM WTF?????

not only i was entirely crying for the last few chapters, i cried AFTER the book ENDED and even after freshing up and after i went to bed in the darkness, I STARTED CRYING AUDIBLY REPLAYING THE LAST CHAPTER IN MY HEAD AGAIN AND AGAIN UGH

i cried for a minimum of two hours last night, i bet you.

THIS is the kind of authors we need, who can literally put a chokehold on strong hearted people like me bruh. Throw her a damn oscar, nobel or whatever the fuck that is. I love her.a

anyways now it's 11:46 in the morning, finished breakfast. i was reading another book named The Virgin[K.NJ] and the book is wild af bro 💀 i smell gang bang-

anyways i have stopped reading now, i should study. i'll continue reading later. already finished 5 chapters in it (and it has 72 CHAPTERS)

so lemme fresh up again and start studying-

---

ok i just saw a pic of chan and he looks so hot but adorable awwww~

chan supremacy at it's highest 📈📈📈

[eyebright-iris]

Review: The Murdstone Trilogy by Mal Peet

Content warning: this review will discuss misogyny, homophobia, sexual assault, transphobia and ableism.

It appears I am having terrible luck with reading this year. I should have known when the gap between by last book I finished and this one (not counting the two graphic novels I blazed through in like two hours in between) has been six months. I started reading The Murdstone Trilogy in January/February time, after the disappointment of Empress of Flames. I hoped that the things I heard - a Pratchett-esque satirical take on fantasy literature, full of good humour and entertaining challenges of the clichés we all know - would make this a fun and easy read, lighthearted and quick.

Oh God, I was so wrong.

Not wanting to pick up another book and brand my 2022 reading a two-for-two of DNFs has meant I haven’t really read in six months. I did not want to finish this book. It sat on my bedside table like a piece of set dressing, collecting dust, seven chapters in and I was loath to pick it up again. But what is it that’s so bad about this book?

Well, let me tell you. It is utterly devoid of heart. It is a book so concerned with cynicism, with belittling others, with being removed and aloof and bitter, that it removes any fun it might have had. I wondered if, perhaps, the use of an ableist slur twelve pages in meant that this book wasn’t for me. Maybe, I thought, trying to be generous, it was from the early 2000s, some time where the R slur got thrown around casually without thought for its actual cruel ramifications. Where the hatred of disabled people was challenged only really by disabled people themselves, where the publicity surrounding not being a fucking monster to minorities was nowhere near what it is today, where the “woke mob” is decried every time someone famous and beloved is revealed to be a fucking monster.

Unfortunately, this book was published in 2014.

And it only got worse from there. Aside from the frankly disgusting way the protagonist talks about women - any women, as often as possible - there’s also the use of transphobic slurs and casual discussion about if a gay man with social power sexually assault the male protagonist, he should just smile and not make a fuss. It’s funny! Queer people existing - trans people, gay people - are actually a way to show off how weird and not like good old Blighty the USA is. Queerness is a side-effect of modern-day image-obsessed celebrity culture, and considering how bitterly and viciously this book rails against the progression of the world through technology and social media, it is distinctly not a positive thing.

Now, I know. Books do not have to be moral. Protagonists can be horrible people, I know. I’ve read books with horrible protagonists, and loved them. This book felt like a gut punch, over and over. How far did I make it into it? Seven and a half chapters. I reached a point where I realised I wasn't enjoying myself, and I did not need to martyr myself to this bitter and dull piece of shit book for the sake of proving that no, I do understand that flawed protagonists exist and can be good to read. I have a Masters degree in literature. I am required to prove nothing to no one, thank you.

BELOW ARE JUST A FEW OF MY “”FAVOURITE”” PASSAGES. THESE WILL BE MISOGYNIST, ABLEIST, RACIST TRANSPHOBIC AND HOMOPHOBIC, AS WELL AS CONTAINING A MENTION OF SEXUAL ASSAULT. IF YOU DO NOT WISH TO READ THEM, PLEASE SKIP TO “FIN”.

“It made Asperger’s cool” (page 11)

“You’ve made that whole area, you know, boys who are inadequate, your own.” (page 11)

“No one wants to publish another book about sensitive retarded boys” (page 12)

“It’s about a sensitive adopted boy of mixed race with learning difficulties who’s good at football and believes his real father might be a Premiership footballer” (page 12)

“He picked at the wrongly hinged boy in the wheelchair whom Minerva had pointed out” (page 71)

“Viscid filaments stretched between his lips” (page 72)

“The boy’s eyes swivelled and his buckled fingers clawed the air” (page 72)

“His teenage son is a tranny” (page 76)

“He’s as gay as bunting, and if he cops a feel of your bum I want you to promise me you won’t make a fuss, OK? It won’t come to anything.” (page 77)

FIN

It was at this point, having slogged through ableism and transphobia and more misogyny than would be practical to list in the above section, but trust me, this protagonist is an incel through and through, than I threw the book down. I had only picked the damn thing up again after months of not touching it because I was waiting for my phone to update and couldn’t be asked to get out of bed on a Sunday morning to go to my laptop. What a vile, sad, disgusting little book. What a waste of ink, what a waste of my time and money.

There is one, final thing I’d like to touch on, before I hurl this mistake of a book to the winds. It’s less…skin crawling, shall we say, than the rest of the above bullshit. But it hurt me very personally, in ways different to how the ableism and homophobia and transphobia hurt me.

I do LARPing. For those who don’t know, that’s Live Action Role Play, like a renfaire or cosplaying your own OC, but with plot and worldbuilding. I run LARPs and I play them. They are tremendous fun, and require a level of unabashed love for what you’re doing, authentic and honest and joyful. I love fantasy in the same way, the way it is so often unabashed that yes, the evil in the text can be defeated and we will come home, the world saved but we irrevocably changed, but we won, we won, we won. Fantasy is a genre of pretending and refusing to allow that to be strangled out of you by common sense or grown up nonsense. Mal Peet does everything he can in this novel to strangle it out of me. He is cruel and dismissive. Murdstone calls Tolkien “pretentious escapist nonsense”, as if The Lord of the Rings was invented out of nowhere so Tolkien could feel clever about himself, as if there isn’t a rich history of fantasy being written in reference and reverence to texts that have come before that goes all the way back to Beowulf and beyond - a history I have personally studied at university. Books, and fantasy, is all capitalistic nightmare foolishness, according to this book. The publishing industry churns out only what sells, and writers write only what sells, and there is no joy or authenticity in it, only cynicism and money.

It’s no wonder I quite literally tossed it aside 77 pages in.

Mal Peet, I’m sorry your protagonist is so much smarter than the rest of the world. I’m sorry that this book was marketed as a fun romp through fantasy tropes, something that I picked up hoping for just that. And I am so, so sorry that it led to me not reading anything for six fucking months because I thought I should at least have the decency to try and finish it.

To the bin with it. I move on to better things.

Verdict:

A cynical and bitter, boring book that has the additional gall to be cruel to minorities. A lot. A waste of my time and money that I could never recommend to anyone. 0/5, 0/10, whatever rating you choose, I hated it.

[dorotharry]

tiny dancer ; chapter two

Pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 3

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: torture, nightmares, angst, let me know if there's anything else :) 

Summary: After being drafted for the war in 1942, Bucky goes to the ballet a week before having to leave with his best friend Steve. There he becomes infatuated you with the prima ballerina of the show, and he just has to meet you before his last week in Brooklyn is up. He hopes one day you would meet again; little does it know it will be 72 years later.

A/N: honestly I have no clue where I’m going but I’m hoping you’re all still following. There’s still soooo much to go into readers past and yep, it’s gonna take a while but I hope you enjoy this. Please feel free to give feedback, like and repost it would mean a lot! :)

MY MASTERLIST

*gif not mine

1943

Your head felt groggy, as you woke up. Not enough energy from an ounce of your body to open your eyes for the time being. The more your body woke up from the darkness of slumber the more the pounding of aches and pains became less subtle and started to fill each and every muscle. You weren’t sure where you were or what had happened, but you suddenly became aware that your surroundings weren’t familiar. The air was too cool and there was an eeriness from lack of noise.

Finally, you were able to pry your eyes open. The colours swirled around you into one, until they became to create recognisable shapes. Although this wasn’t somewhere you recognised, just as your mind had thought even before getting to look around.

You were laid down on a metal ‘bed’ if you could even call it a bed. The coolness of the metal began to get to you a shiver running down your spine and you attempted to get up. Only to be restricted. It was now when you noticed you had straps holding your ankles, down, but not only this; there was a limpness to your form. In fact, you didn’t have any real connection to your muscles. As if a switch had been turned on in your head you realised, this wasn’t a bed. It was a table.

Suddenly your anxiety rose. In an ill attempt to do something you turned you head groggily to the left, only to be met with machines, and hospital devices. You took in a sharp breath. This definitely wasn’t a hospital so why the machines? Rolling your head to the right with just as much difficultly as last time you were met with darkness. The faint sound of feet shuffling in the distance, and the whirring of more machines.

Almost as if whoever it was had realised you were awake, a bright white light turned on above you causing you to groan from the sudden contrast to the previous darkness. The footsteps became louder, as whoever it was approached you from their hiding spot.

“Ah you’re awake,” the voice started, “you know you gave our men quite a difficult time back there. Are you going to behave this time?”

Your voice barely was able to respond, only a hushed whisper came out, “Who are you? Where am I?” This worked to rejog your memory as you saw flashes of men running after you, as you had leapt from this same table. You had gotten pretty far and fought back fairly well but this place… whatever it was; was a maze. Realising now that amongst being kidnapped and knocked unconscious. Your first attempt to escape was probably why you were in pain all over. A vision of a few men jumping on top of you and beating you unconscious. Again. That must have been why you were tied down this time.

“I think you know the answer to that.” the small man with glasses responded appearing finally out of the darkness. “…We’re HYDRA, and you y/n...” He spoke reaching under your chin in a condescending manner. “…Were firstly going to be a pawn against your stupid Captain America. But you’ve shown promise, something our other soldiers don’t have.  Neither your American ones. My guess is it comes from your ballet training.” He shrugged as he moved away from you, turning and looking for something. Suddenly his hand was on a switch and machines began to rumble.

“Please,” you responded choking on your own words, “please just kill me!” You knew something was coming, otherwise why would be so aloof.

He chuckled at your words as he stood behind you. “The red skull doesn’t want me to do that, he needs more soldiers, and that’s exactly what we’re going to make you.” And with that you saw a metal machine slowly being dropped down over your left eye, and below your right jaw, causing your panic to rise. As quick as the unbearable pain started, so did darkness.

Present day ; 2017

You woke up screaming as the pain of what had happened almost a century ago shot through your entire body. You fumbled out of bed in a sweat like you did most nights. Heading towards your small kitchen in your small apartment. It was filled with greys, no life within in, you felt there was no need, why celebrate a life with no life?

Your life had changed in so many ways after 1943. You were one of HYDRA’S many toys, the many men that surrounded you called you tiny dancer, but not in a kind way, in a misogynistic arrogant way. Most people at that time though saw you as a weapon, something to be feared of, and they should have.

After you had stumbled upon the Winter Soldier on a mission in 2014 working as a freelance agent having cut your ties with HYDRA mere months before hand, it was only a few months when so had Captain America. From what you had heard amongst assassins under the radar living in Madripoor like you, it hadn’t gone well for HYDRA and now the Winter Soldier was nowhere to be found, invoking fear within many who had made themselves enemies to him. But you were sure his best friend would be looking for him. Whilst you had decided to go against helping him, Steve was not that kind of person.

Time had not been kind to you, you were no longer the frail girl who could fall in love in a week. In fact, you weren’t sure if you actually could feel love anymore. HYDRA had to make sure there was no collateral. Still once you saw him that night you wondered how amongst your many years with HYDRA, how you had never run into Bucky: The Winter Soldier. You had heard of the winter soldier, but you never knew it was Bucky behind the ghost of a person. Probably on purpose, HYDRA had been in your mind. Tthere was no doubt they knew who he was to you back then.

Not only did it invoke these thoughts, but it had led to your retirement. Well not your retirement, you were still about 25 years old on the outside, and though nor Steve or Bucky knew you were alive you knew how it felt to be in their position.

Hiding out in your small apartment in Madripoor was where you had spent most of your life since 2014, staying on the down low in case HYDRA somehow re-emerged, looking for revenge on a project they had wasted so much time on. You.  

You weren’t sure why they were so surprised people like you hated them with so much anger. They had taken your life, Bucky’s life and made you weapons against your will. You didn’t hold their values, it was forced upon you.

You shook yourself from your thoughts again. You only got sentimental after nightmares, and the nightmares had been pretty continuous after seeing Bucky those few years ago, so really you were sentimental most mornings. You think it had something to do with seeing him and how it brought back memories you didn’t even know you had.

Reaching for a bottle of water, you took a sip looking over at the clock that read 3am. You groaned, knowing that you’d probably never have a good night’s sleep again. Terrible payback for a terrible past. No sleep for the wicked.

You shuffled yourself back to your room getting into bed and turning on the tv as a way to mindlessly distract yourself until you actually had to do stuff.

A few hours past until it was 7am, and you decided you could at least go for a shower before your day at work. Working at a bar that opened at 9am wasn’t exactly high class living; especially when you had to deal with drunks so early in the day, so it definitely required more motivation than most jobs. You couldn’t do what you were originally good at, dance. And you’d decided you probably shouldn’t be doing what you were trained for. Killing people.

Turning on the shower to allow it to warm up, you rid yourself of your clothes, suddenly aware of how stiff your muscles were after another bad dream. Stepping in you let the water try and wash it away, and though it did help you knew it would only reappear tonight in another form of a nightmare. You closed your eyes sighing in content, and it did last for a brief moment until you heard banging on your front door.

At first you tried to ignore it, but it got louder and more aggravated and suddenly your heart had fell to your stomach, resorting to thinking of the worst that could be behind that door. Getting out you threw some clothes back on. You reached under your bed grabbing your shot gun, holding it close to yourself as you slowly walked towards the door that had started banging again. Times like this you wished you had a peep hole to look through.

You turned on your best poker face and opened the door abruptly to be more hostile. Only you were met with someone you didn’t know, though for some reason you felt you recognised. On the other side of the door stood a woman all in black, her hair was in a blonde bob and for a brief second you thought you saw a reaction flash across her face like she knew you too.

“Is this y/n?” she spoke firmly and with poise.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Is it?” she returned her poker face staying on her face.

“Yes.” You huffed, the half-amused face falling from your face, returning back to the glare you constantly wore. “Who are you?”

She raised her hand for you to shake her face accompanying it with a small smile, which you hesitantly took.

“Nice to finally meet you y/n, I’ve been looking for you under Fury’s instruction for a while, my name’s Natasha.”

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Taglist: (let me know if you want to be tagged)

@maybe-a-marvel​ @thatredlipped-classic​ @flightsandfantasy​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @rebelemilu​ 

[hellisheuphoria]

Chapter 2: Silence

The MC has a rough day, and finds comfort in a certain individual.

[Nothing much to say here, except thank you for reading, and don’t hesitate writing any constructive criticism to me or pointing out mistakes, ily all <3]

Morning arrives, and your eyes still barely open from the exhaustion of last night. You wished you had never woken up, far too tired for the day ahead.

You can tell it is early in the morning- just before 6 am. There is no sun in the Devildom, and so you have had to adjust your internal clock to the eternal darkness of this world.

No light creeps into your room to remind you that there is a new start to another day. That the past belongs in the past- yet your mind just can not correspond with that. It feels like everyday is the same.

It is eternal and infinite, yet you are mortal and weak. Despite possessing pacts with the most strongest rulers of the Devildom, you wield no strength. You possess no magical power. You’re useless.

If a demon wished to devour you right this very second, you would be gone. There is no power within you to perform any spells, and so you are defenceless.

Already in a depressive state, you will your weary bones to move. In order to avoid your housemates, you would need an extremely early start to the day. Meaning, now.

You freshen up in the bathroom, noticing your horrible features on your face. Your skin is pale and hollow, dark circles have comfortably edged themselves under your eyes, your eyes are hollow and lifeless and your hair thin and dead. You look like a zombie.

Your RAD uniform is crumpled and messy from having thrown it on the floor the day before, not giving a single care for it in the world.

You quietly walk to the kitchen, with your school necessities and belongings in your bag that has been slumped over your shoulder. You grab a small carton of yoghurt to eat and walked to the door, making sure to be quiet so as to not wake any of them up or alert them.

There are barely any students by the time you get to school, but they are almost always the nicer demons, the over achievers of the school. As they say, the early bird catches the worm.

You walked to the courtyard, where many beautiful plants and wildflowers resided, making it a truly wonderful and bright place in RAD. You sat down on one of the benches and took out your yoghurt, peeling the plastic off.

Someone tapped your shoulder from next to you. The white hair gave it away immediately; Solomon.

”Hello, MC. You’re quite early, today.” He greeted you with a lovely smile, but you could tell something was going on if you looked deeper into his eyes. He held onto a secret of some sorts.

”Hey.” You responded, nervous and flustered at the same time. You two didn’t talk often, despite being the only two human exchange students in the Devildom. He was very handsome and you would find yourself staring at him during class, enraptured.

He was also a very powerful sorcerer, having made pacts with more than 72 demons- Asmodeus included.

But he was nice, and hadn’t hurt you at all. Well, yet. You hoped he wouldn’t, you actually liked him.

”You look tired today. Had a rough night?” He observed you closely, his eyes still looking around your face as you slowly went red.

”I-uh, you could say that. I woke up sort of early and couldn’t sleep.” It wasn’t a total lie, but it wasn’t the entire truth either.

”Huh, alright.” He was still smiling at you, his lips perfectly complimenting his beautifully sinister face.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away, choking the rest of the yoghurt down. You were feeling way too nervous for your liking- you felt as though you were supposed to act a certain way around him.

You breathed in slowly. “Uh, I need to get to class now.” You adjusted your bag on your shoulders and stood up to walk away, when he called out behind you.

”Have a nice day, MC.” You didn’t look back, but responded. “You too.”

For the rest of the day, you spent your time avoiding everyone, especially Mammon. You knew he would be extremely pissed at you, but you didn’t care. Today was not a good day.

As cute and clingy as he was, you just needed to get away from everyone- you really did. You could understand why Lucifer was frustrated at them half the time- they can be quite a handful.

As the day ended, you were in your last class, the Devildom history. You only had Satan, Asmo and Solomon with you in this class. They sat away from you, but you could hear Asmo’s whispering from miles away. He was being seriously loud.

“You know what happened today? I tried talking to MC, and they literally ghosted me! I think there’s something up!”

Satan agreed with him, “You’re right. Mammon wouldn’t stop complaining today about how he couldn’t find MC.”

Solomon didn’t talk, but you could feel his stare from your spot in the class. You could almost hear his thoughts from how hard he was staring at you.

When the class ended, you packed up as fast as you could and almost ran from how fast you were, you didn’t want to talk to anyone at all.

You could hear Asmo and Satan yelling behind you, but you ignored them and ran away. You didn’t want to answer any of their questions, you don’t want to talk to them.

Your outburst yesterday with Belphegor made you wary of everyone else. You were worried if he had told them what happened, and then they would want to talk to you about it.

You didn’t want to talk about your feelings, you would break if you did. It scared you witless, it terrified you. You didn’t wanna ruin their relationship with Belphegor or you. You didn’t want to be selfish and hurt them with your stupid fear.

The minute you ran into the house, you could tell it was empty. There were no shoes lying around, and nobody was arguing. Perfect, you were by yourself, and there would be no one to bother you.

You kicked off your shoes and got to your room. You locked your door, put away your bag and slithered onto your bed, not having taken off your uniform. God, you were tired.

You wrapped the blankets around you and eased into the mattress. This way, you would feel better. You wouldn’t feel as bad as you usually did, you would feel great when asleep, you were able to finally escape from your wretched world. The world soon became indecipherable, indifferent.

You zoned out and fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of chattering, laughter and arguing close by. The light creeped in from under your door and ended right at your face. Your room was extremely dark, a change from when you first got home.

You were still groggy and tired, but if you slept any longer then you wouldn’t be able to sleep for the rest of the night.

You were feeling pretty lonely, but to be honest? It may just be better this way. You wouldn’t feel hurt when the program ended and you had to go home, and you wouldn’t ruin a relationship that could last for thousand of more years.

You didn’t leave your room, but you kept your door locked and turned on the light. You decided you would pass the time playing Mononoke Land, a game that Levi introduced to you a while back.

It was quite interesting, and the time passed by quickly, but only by an hour. It was about 6 pm, so you still had a lot of time before you would need to sleep.

You felt jealous of everyone sitting in the living room, enjoying their evening. Asmo was probably painting his nails, Satan could be trying to read a book despite Mammon’s blabbering.

You snickered a bit at the thought of Mammon being yelled at by Satan while Beel ate in the background, and Belphegor-

Oh. Belphegor would be napping, like always. You were jealous of that, as scared you were of him. You wanted the ability to sleep at any time you wanted to, despite the setting or time. It would be really convenient for right about now.

You could feel yourself getting sadder by the moment, but you didn’t know how to deal with it. You were lonely and scared, but you didn’t know where to turn to.

A ping from your DDD shook you from your thoughts.

Solomon- Hello, MC, do you have a minute?

MC- Uh, yeah. Why?

Solomon- You left something behind at school and I forgot about it until now. I have your notebook with me, you forgot it at history.

MC - OH, shoot. Should I wait for you tomorrow or come now? It’s only 6 pm.

Solomon - The Devildom can be quite deceiving when it comes to the seasons, but it’s winter right now, and it’s dark. Don’t worry, I’ll be at the house of Lamentation soon. I wouldn’t want you to have your soul eaten.

You felt your cheeks turn red, he didn’t want you to get hurt.

MC - Thank you, Solomon, I’ll be waiting. Text me first, don’t ring the doorbell.

Solomon - Got it.

You shut off your phone and stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds, wondering about Solomon. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy after all, not that you thought he was. After all, he cared for you enough to not risk you getting hurt. How sweet of him.

You messed around on your phone for a bit while waiting for Solomon. You hanged around in your room idly, doing nothing in particular. You then got a notification from your phone. As it turned out, that new feature where you can look at other group chats that you’re not in got activated again.

In the group chat, there was a picture of Mammon on the front page news of Majolish, a fashion magazine. He was modelling again.

Asmo rambled on about him, surprised that his ‘scummy’ older brother got into the first page of Majolish. Honestly, snooping on them was kind of fun. You’ve probably got more than dozens of blackmail from this feature.

Solomon- MC, I’m here.

MC - I’ll be out soon.

You wrapped yourself in a jacket, still in your uniform. You would have to wash that soon, you probably sweat a lot in it.

You tried your best to avoid everyone, making yourself as quiet as a mouse, you hoped. The floors creaked slightly, but they were all probably too preoccupied to notice.

You got to the front door and silently opened it, seeing Solomon outside. He was wearing his casual clothes, but still had that same look on his face. Handsome, too.

”Hello, MC.” He took your notebook out of his pocket and held it in front of you, with his arm stretched. You reached out to grab it, but he snatched it away and looked at you smugly.

”Let’s have a little chat, first. You owe me, don’t you?”

You dumbly stood there, gaping at him. Of course- this was Solomon we were falling about. He’s as sketchy as it could get.

”Oh- fine!” You said, trying your best not to sound pissed.

You put on your school shoes and walked out the door, making sure to close it quietly. Solomon walked with you, not saying a word but you could guess your notebook was still in his pocket.

You sighed, “Look, Solomon, if you’re not going to give it back to me, then can I just go back home? I’m tired.”

He looked at you with a side glance. “I could tell. You’re still in your uniform.” Pausing for a second, he continued. “Why were you acting weird today? I wouldn’t have expected our dear MC to run off like that. So I assumed that something must be up.”

You looked at the ground, clenching your hands in your pockets and keeping your eyes off him. “What’s it to you?”

He stopped walking, and so did you. He chucked, “As a fellow human exchange student, I only want the best for you.” He took your notebook out of his pocket, placing it in your hands. “If you ever find yourself in need, I will be there, no matter the scenario.”

He pat your head, then walked off, calling behind him. “Good evening, MC.”

You stared at his back, confused. He has never been this close to you, why now? You glanced down at your notebook, where he seemed to have placed a little ripped note on it.

Tear-rible mistake on your behalf, leaving your notes behind.

-Solomon :)

It was a horrible pun, really, but that didn’t stop you from laughing out loud in the middle of the street, facepalming yourself. You turned and walked back to the House of Lamentation, trying to contain yourself.

Seeing the house in your view calmed you down a little, and you knew you had to be quiet to avoid Lucifer’s wrath. He could have probably heard you laughing from miles away if he tried hard enough.

You walked up the door and slowly opened it, wincing a little when your shoes scraped the carpet, leaving a little scuff mark. But he was an extreme perfectionist. He would notice that right away.

Panicking, you half ran to your room and locked it, sliding down the door in disbelief and relief. You really needed to find a better way to sneak out.

Your phone buzzed at the same time you thought it, almost as if in agreement.

[flightsoffandom]

Co-Conspirators Part 3

Pairs: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Words: 8875

Summary: Finally, having a little free time, you share some mundane domestic moments with Aaron. You’re even able to spend some more time with Jack.

Warnings: Smut (please read the note), other than that nothing really

Notes: Most of this chapter is gender-neutral, but there is a smut section where I wrote the reader as having a vagina (and a few mentions of breasts), but no actual gendered terms are used. I have indented the smut section, I also marked the beginning and end of that section with “

=====================================

“ so you can just skip over it without missing any plot. If someone is interested in having a separate version with the other set of genitalia just let me know and I can post a separate version for you. Other than that, I was just really feeling some soft Hotch and Reader time, so that’s what happened.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2–Part 3*–Part 4–Part 5–Part 6

You're not sure what woke you up first, Aaron moving or his phone ringing. You do know that when you felt him move, you grabbed his arm that was still draped over you, so he couldn't go anywhere. To Aaron’s credit, he didn't try to pull that arm away from you anymore. Instead awkwardly using his other one to fish around for his phone. With a low whine, you let go of him, so he doesn't have to struggle anymore. Aaron kissed the back of your head softly, as a silent ‘thank you’. He answers his phone, “SSA Aaron Hotchner.” Aaron goes quiet as the person on the other end talks. You could hear them talking but couldn’t make out the words. Aaron sighs, “Three dead and one suspected victim missing?” After a short pause, Aaron replies, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” When Aaron hangs up the phone, you let out a louder whine this time. You roll over to face him, “This is the first time I’ve ever been annoyed to get a case.” You finally open your eyes, seeing Aaron smiling softly at you. He slides his hand under the hem of your shirt, “I don't like the poor timing, either.” Aaron runs his hand up your stomach before curving over your side and continuing up your back. You shiver and let out a soft moan. Aaron grins at your response, kissing you softly. You glare up at Aaron, “We don't have time to be handsy” His large hand trails up and down your back, “I suppose we don’t.” You smile and snake your fingers under his shirt, “Rain check?” Aaron’s muscular stomach tenses up under your fingertips. He gives you a nod. You smile and remove your hands, reaching up to kiss Aaron again. He deepens the kiss causing you both to get lost in it for a moment. Aaron pulls away first, “I need to shower and get Jack to school.” 

    Aaron gets up and out of bed, “You're welcome to use my shower.” You huff as he leaves, rolling onto your back, “I think if we both walk into work freshly showered, the team might notice.” You lean up on your elbows, “But I will take another rain check on a shared shower later.” You grin and wink at him. Aaron chuckles, “Sounds like a fun time.” You smirk and get up out of bed, going to your bag. Aaron disappears, and soon you hear the water running in another room. You quickly change into work-appropriate clothes, packing your pajamas back into your bag. You hum softly, thinking. You push your bag over into the corner, so it's out of the way. Optimistically leaving it behind for a later date. Walking out into the kitchen as you start thinking about breakfast. You usually weren't the best at taking care of yourself, but since Aaron and Jack were here, you were thinking about them. You try to figure out what to make them, and it quickly comes to mind. Oatmeal and orange juice. You remembering hearing Aaron say that that’s what he normally made for breakfast. You cross your fingers, hoping it was a brand that had instructions on the box. Opening a few cabinets until you find what you're searching for. Breathing a sigh of relief when you see directions. You get started making breakfast. Soon you hear the water shut off from down the hall. While the oatmeal is cooking, you tiptoe to go check on Jack. The little boy rubs his eyes, already waking up and getting ready. He didn’t even need an alarm to wake him up in the morning. Making you chuckle at how much his dad has rubbed off on him. You go back into the kitchen to check on the food. Pulling out three bowls and glasses. Focusing on making the oatmeal. You figured it would be hard to mess up, but you didn't want to risk it. 

    As you started putting servings of oatmeal into bowls, you see Aaron walk into the kitchen. He was tying his tie, but when he sees you, he stops for a second, “This is different.” You turn to see Aaron smiling at you. You chuckle, “Good different or bad different?” Aaron walks over and kisses your cheek, “Good… Definitely good.” You grin and push a bowl at him, “That was the correct answer.” You tease and grab the other two dishes, putting them on the dining table. You go back into the kitchen, pouring orange juice into all three glasses. Jack trots out happily, fully dressed, and ready to go. Jack sits at the table and happily starts eating. Aaron joins his son, and soon you join both of them as you deliver the glasses of juice. The three of you all share a quick happy little breakfast together. When you all finish up, everyone starts rushing again. Before you leave, you make sure to say ‘goodbye’ to Jack before giving Aaron one last kiss, “See you at work.” Aaron smiles at you as you step out the door. 

    You got to work before Hotch did, which was very good for your cover. Now you only had to keep your micro-expressions under control when Hotch was around, and you would be set. Once Hotch was there, the round table meeting started, and you all went over the case. It was out of state so you would have to take the plane to get there. Three women dead with another one missing, and the unsub seemed to be holding them for only a few days. The goal was to find the unsub before they killed the fourth girl. Which gave the team about 72 hours to figure out the whole case. The short flight was spent having the team work out the profile. Almost as soon as the plane landed, the unsub discovered that the FBI was in town and got cocky. They decided sending taunts and threats was a good move. So, it ended up being a very long three days with very little sleep for the whole team. In the end, the team did catch the guy responsible. The fourth victim was saved, with her only needing a minor hospital visit. It was a win, but a win that left the whole team exhausted, including yourself. When the team got back to the BAU, most of them scattered, quickly wrapping up and heading home. Unsurprisingly you and Hotch ended up being the last people in the office.  

    You were exhausted but wanted to keep working on paperwork. Filling it out on the couch in Hotch’s office. At some point, while filling out your assignments, you ended up dozing off. Waking up to Hotch gently nudging you, “Go home and get some sleep.” You blink a few times and huff, “I’m fine.” You yawn and rub your eyes. Hotch glares down at you, “That’s an order.” You chuckle and ignore him, starting writing again, “We are off the clock, so technically you can’t ‘order’ me to do anything.” Hotch crosses his arms, still boring down into you. You turn and look at him, giving him an innocent smile. He sighs, “Please.” You watch him and nod, “Fine...fine…” You start putting your papers away. You glance over at Hotch, “Are you going home too then? Or are you being a hypocrite?” Hotch glares at you before softening up, “I am actually.” He smiles at you, “You looking so cute and tired got me thinking…” You chuckle and curiously watch him as he leads you out of his office. Hotch closes his door behind you as he continues, “My apartment is closer than yours.” You grin and trot down the steps, “By maybe 10 to 15 minutes.” Hotch shrugs following close behind, “That’s 15 more minutes of sleep.” You chuckle and put your extra work at your desk, “If you want me to stay the night, you could just ask.” Hotch walks you over to the elevator, “You're the one who left your go-bag at my place.” You step onto the elevator, “True, but I could just sleep in my car. There is a new go-bag in it as well.” You grin at Hotch. He glares at you, “I’m not letting that happen.” You hum softly, “I really don't think you can stop me.” Hotch lets out a low growl, “Why are you being so stubborn?” You chuckle and wink at Hotch. When the elevator opens, you walk out, “Cause I’m too tired to be any real fun in bed.” Hotch gives you a sweet smile, “It’s fun enough being able to sleep next to you.” You blush brightly and mumble, “God, stop being so charming.” You head out to where your cars are parked. Once you get to a place where cameras could no longer see the both of you, Hotch moves in and kisses you. You smile and kiss him back, “I’ll stay the night you don't have to do any more convincing.” Hotch smiles down at you, “That was just because it's been three days since I could kiss you.” You let out a happy sigh, “You're a romantic sap.” Hotch nods in agreement and gives you another soft kiss. You slowly pull away from Hotch, “I'll see you at your apartment.” You get into your car ready to go for the night. 

    A few weeks had passed, and everything was going good between you and Hotch. The biggest issue was how often you both worked, which wouldn't have been an issue if you didn't have to hide it. You both had been keeping the lie going, so you just had to find time outside of work when you to be together. Over the few weeks, all of your cases had taken a whole day or more, which meant it was usually you two going home long enough to sleep before going back into work. The few times you were able to make it to Aaron’s apartment, it was usually just spending time with Aaron and Jack, dinner, and then straight to sleep before waking up in the morning to start the work cycle all over again. Even with limited free time outside of work, you and Aaron had gotten closer, and Jack was warming up to you even more. Aaron made sure to call you in what little off time you both happened to have. More than once, Jack had asked to talk to you as well, which you were more than happy to do. Finally, tomorrow the team had a day off, and it actually seemed like you weren't going to get called in. Which you had been planning for, and you were more than ready for it. 

    It was after work and late. You stared at the food section of the grocery store. Unsure of what to do, you called Aaron. Not even giving Aaron a chance to say ‘hello’, you bombard him as soon as he answers, “Aaron, what does Jack like to eat? Mac and cheese with hot dogs, maybe?” You let out a nervous hum, “But that doesn't have a whole lot of nutritional value, I’m assuming… maybe I should pick something else… does he even like mac and cheese?” Aaron started chuckling, “Yes, Jack is a normal kid who would be overjoyed to have that for dinner.” You grumble from Aaron’s chuckling. He lets out a happy sigh, “You're overthinking it.” You sigh loudly, “This is something I should be overthinking, though? Right? Like, food and nutrition are important for growing children.” Aaron keeps chucking, “One night without vegetables will be fine.” You whine loudly, ignoring the looks you were getting from fellow shoppers, “Yeah, for tomorrow night, but what about other times?” You can hear a playful eye-roll in Aaron’s voice, “We can talk about it later. You make it sound like its life or death. I have heard you calmer when dealing with unsubs.” You sigh and grab some mac and cheese boxes, “Well, I don't care if unsubs have a decent diet. I care if you and Jack do…” You push your cart with one hand as you mumble, “I also went to school for dealing with criminals.” Aaron laughs, “It's sweet that you worry so much, but you don't need to.” You get to the refrigerated section, grabbing the food you needed, “I may not need to, but I will so, hope you're ready to be on the phone with me until I finish shopping.” Aaron chuckles, “I am still at work. If you could have waited, I could have just gone with you.” You stop to look at a shelf and laugh, “And waste the little time we have shopping.” You start moving through the food isles picking up whatever other food you need, “Nah, I prefer multitasking. You finish up the paperwork, I get groceries.” Aaron sighs, “I think I'd rather be with you.” You start moving out of the food section, letting out a content hum, “Soon, handsome.” You hear Aaron writing. Clearly, someone walked in to talk to Aaron because you heard him using his stiff work voice for a moment. You keep thinking over what you need. You stop and stare at the children's section, “Would it be weird if I bought a bed for Jack?” Aaron laughs, “What?” You lazily walk through the section, “I mean, he is staying the night tomorrow, and it seems mean to make him sleep on the couch.” You thoughtfully hum, “I have a whole guest bedroom. Not even technically a ‘bed’ room, it doesn't even have a bed in it. Only filled with boxes.” Aaron chuckles, “If you really want to, you can. It seems a bit excessive for one night.” You huff, “But if you both spend the night again…” You sigh, “I guess it would just be easier to stay at your apartment most of the time…” Aaron stays quiet for a moment, before talking in a soft but serious tone, “Why are you so concerned about this? Jack already likes spending time with you.” You rub your temples with the palm of your free hand, “I…” You let out a long sigh, navigating yourself off to the side, away from other customers, “I don’t wanna be that kind of person who dates someone with a kid but then acts like the kid is just a backdrop in their partner’s life… That doesn't make a whole lot of sense…” You let out another sigh, trying to figure out how to say what you want to say, “I don't want Jack to feel like a ‘prop’ in our relationship… Like I only care about him to impress you or whatever.” You groan at yourself, “You know what I mean, we see it all the time… I don't want Jack to think that or feel like that…” You finally finish, not sure if you got your message across or not. Aaron’s voice comes out sweeter than normal, “I don’t think Jack feels that way. You're great with him. I can see you genuinely care about him, I’m sure he sees it too.” Aaron pauses. When he starts speaking again, you can hear a slight smile in his voice, “If buying a bed or whatever else would help you feel better, then I think it's a wonderful idea.” The sigh that leaves you this time is one of relief, “Thank you.” You push your cart back over to the kid’s section. You stare at the large box, “I’m going to have to let you go, hot stuff. I’m gonna need both hands to carry this and then figure out how to fit it into my car.” Aaron chuckles, “Alright, I’ll see you soon.” You smile, “Don’t take too long.” You decide to be cheesy and end the call by giving Aaron a kiss through the phone. 

    After you checked out, you were lucky enough to be able to Tetris everything into your car safely. With the large box and everything else you bought settled in your car, you were ready to head home. It took multiple trips to get everything inside, which was a bit tiresome but worth it. Jack wasn't staying the night until tomorrow, but since it was just you and Aaron tonight, you wanted to get as much done as possible before Aaron came over. Once everything was inside, it was time to get your guest bedroom cleaned up. You start by moving all the boxes into the closet, not too worried about going through them at the moment. You throw some stuff into the washer before preheating the oven. With the guest bedroom cleared out, you sit down on the floor and start building the bed. 

    As soon as you get the bed finished, there is a knock on your apartment door. You figured it was Aaron, but out of pure paranoia, you grab your gun before checking the door. You checked the peephole and smiled when you saw Aaron on the other side. Opening the door wide enough for him to come in. Aaron grins at you and walks in with his go-bag in hand. As you close and lock the door, Aaron comments, “Planning on shooting me?” You let out a nervous laugh, “Not currently.” Aaron turns around and raises an eyebrow at you as he chuckles, “I did message you and say I was on the way.” You hum and grab your phone off the table. Looking at the notifications, “That you did. I was very busy building a bed.” Aaron moves in closer to you. There was something in his eyes as he moved in on you. He uses his free hand to pull you to him and kisses you deeply. You smile into it and kiss him back. Right as you're about to start making out, you hear a beep from your kitchen. Pulling away before leading Aaron over to your bedroom, “I need to go get our food.” You quickly put your gun away. Aaron smiles, “Alright.” You go and pull a pizza out of the oven, setting it on the stove to cool down.  

    Right when your hands are free, you feel Aaron’s arms wrap around you. You chuckle, pushing your body back into him, “Someone’s frisky.” Aaron puts his face into the crook of your neck. You can feel his lips move as he responds, “This is the first time we will have a night with just the two of us.” You close your eyes and shiver, “True, we haven't had a chance to fool around yet.” In a silent response, Aaron slides a hand down your stomach. Gliding his fingers under the hem of your pants. A moan slips out of you, your body starting to react to his touch. You grab his wrist, pulling it out of your pants. Aaron lets out an annoyed growl. You open your eyes and chuckle, “Not in the kitchen.” You turn around. When you see the hunger in Aaron’s eyes, you swallow hard. Arousal starts building between your legs. Aaron’s jacket was gone. Something about the loss of a singular piece of clothing added to how attractive he looked right now. Aaron grins at you, rolling up his sleeves. You hum and bite your lip. Watching for a moment before nudging him out of the kitchen. You grab Aaron by his tie and pull him into your bedroom. He eagerly lets you lead him.

 =====================================

    Once in your bedroom, you immediately start kissing Aaron again. You let Aaron’s tongue into your mouth, twisting your tongues together. As you keep your lips locked with his, you reach down and search for his belt. When you feel the metal against your fingers, you start unbuckling it. Aaron starts trying to pull up your shirt. You break the kiss and pull away, “Not yet.” Aaron let his hands tightly grip your hips to keep you from moving too far away. He glares down at you with dark eyes, “Why?” His voice was full of lust and came out rougher than usual. You look up at him innocently as you undo his pants, “Because…” You pause and glance down. Seeing his hard cock straining to get out of his boxers. You can't help but moan at the sight. You look back up, meeting Aaron’s eyes, “I want to taste you first.” Aaron’s expression changes from horny annoyance to aroused dismissal, “Y...You don’t…” His voice was softer than it was a minute ago. You could have sworn Aaron was blushing. It was so cute that you gave him a sweet smile. Aaron cleared his throat and regained some of his composure, “I don't expect you to do that.” You kiss him softly, “I know you don't.” You gently move Aaron backward until he is leaning against your bed for support. You move to whisper in his ear, “The thing is I want to suck your cock, Aaron.” The words cause his body to stiffen up. Aaron loosens his hold on your hips. You grin, planting a kiss on his cheek. Finally, grabbing the waistband of his boxers. You look down, pulling the cloth down just enough for his cock to spring out.  

    You sink down onto your knees. Taking Aaron's member into your hand, getting a good look at it. He was well endowed, nice, and thick. With precum already leaking from the tip. You let out a happy hum, “Where have you been hiding this?” Aaron’s hands grasp onto the edge of the bed. He tries to control his breathing. You slowly move your hand up and down Aaron’s shaft. His cock leaks more precum in response. You remove your hand. No longer wanting to keep Aaron waiting and unable to hold yourself back anymore. You give a testing lick all the way from the base of his cock to the tip. Aaron had his eyes shut tight as he let out a restrained grunt. With that, you take the tip of his cock into your mouth, sucking softly. Aaron lets out a pleased groan. Enjoying Aaron’s reaction, you take him deeper down your throat. You see his hand moving out of the corner of your eye. Taking his cock even deeper until it hits the back of your throat. Aaron responds in a husky tone, “Fuck.” You gag softly, causing him to open his eyes and look down at you. When his eyes meet yours, you moan. Making sure to vibrate his cock. Aaron’s hand goes right to your hair. At first, he gives your hair a slight tug, pulling another moan out of you. You start moving his shaft in and out of your throat. His grip easily loosens, and he just gently keeps his fingers tangled in your hair. You close your eyes, starting to speed up. The suppressed noises Aaron keeps making cause more heat to pool in between your legs. In an attempt for some minor relief, you push one of your hands down your pants. You curve your tongue so that it glides over his cock with every bob of your head. Your fingers easily find your clit, rubbing it just enough to subside your own arousal. Returning your focus back to sucking Aaron’s cock. Taking him deep enough that your nose pressed against his shirt's fabric before pulling back and repeating. Aaron loses whatever composure he had left. His knuckles turn white from how tightly he is grabbing your bed. A mixture of grunts and moans, leaving him as you feel his cock start to twitch. You suck harder, trying to push him over the edge. In a weak attempt to not finish right now, Aaron tightens his grip on your hair before gently trying to lead you off his cock. You stubbornly do the opposite, pushing his cock down your throat one last time. With another curse under his breath, Aaron cums right down your throat. You let out a pleased purr. Swallowing every last drop. Once he has absolutely emptied himself down your throat, he loosens his hold on your hair once more. You wrap your lips around his cock. Giving one last suck to help clean it off. When you reach the tip, his cock comes out of your mouth with a loud pop. 

    Even though you were in the privacy of your own apartment, there was something about Aaron still being in his work clothes that made this seem forbidden. The way your excitement pooled in your underwear reflected just how much you liked it. You start catching your breath as you open your eyes and look up at Aaron. He has an almost dazed look in his eyes as he pants out, “I thought you wouldn't want me to…” Aaron pauses, bringing his hand to cover his face, ”finish in your mouth.” You tilt your head to the side and chuckle, “I said I wanted to taste you.” You lick your lips and grin, “I meant it.” Aaron lets out a long content sigh, “It felt good.” You smile and pull your hand out of your pants before standing up, “I've never seen you this flustered, it's adorable.” Aaron removes his hand from his face, glaring at you. You grin and kiss him softly. With a growl, Aaron grabs you by your hips. Picking you up. He turns you both before setting you on the bed. You laugh, putting your knees on either side of Aaron’s waist. Aaron bores down into you, “You enjoyed my reaction a little too much.” You look up at him, innocently, “I don’t know what you mean.” You reach forward and start pulling Aaron’s pants down all the way. He kisses you roughly, already pushing his tongue into your mouth. You moan, hearing his belt hit the floor as you kiss him back. When you start unbuttoning Aaron’s shirt, he breaks the kiss. Tightening his grip on your hips before quickly pulling you towards him. Causing your back to hit the bed, your ass sliding right on the edge of the mattress. You let out a surprised gasp before regaining your composer enough to tease Aaron, “Did you enjoy tasting yourself on my tongue?” He grabs the hem of your pants and underwear, roughly tugging them down your legs, "I should have known you would have a filthy mouth." You arch your back and wiggle around to help remove your bottoms. Shivering when your wet pussy is exposed. You give him a mischievous nod, "Really should have, gets me into all sorts of trouble." Aaron grins before moving between your legs. 

     Aaron kisses down one thigh, stopping right before reaching your center, doing the same thing with your other thigh. Your breath catches in your throat. An involuntary loud moan escapes your body. Aaron chuckles at your reaction as he moves in and licks up your slit. You reach your hands down and tangle them into his hair. He presses further in burying his tongue inside you. Closing your eyes as you try to suppress another moan. Aaron slides his hand around your hip. His large hand rests on your lower abdomen. Putting his thumb in the perfect position to move down and rub your clit. Your hips twitch eagerly. He starts moving his tongue in and out of you at a harsh pace, matching that pace with his thumb. You could feel yourself already getting close to your orgasm, closing your eyes tightly. You gasp loudly and arch your back, trying to get away from the intense pleasure. Aaron uses his strength to keep you in place. Right before you can orgasm, he completely stops working your pussy. He chuckles as he pulls back enough to watch you pant. When you're finally starting to catch your breath, Aaron starts slowly moving his thumb over your clit, this time at an agonizingly slow pace. You felt how slick you had gotten, craving release. You let out a loud, impatient whine, gently tugging his hair to bring him back into you. Aaron laughs, “This is a perfect look on you.” You let out an annoyed desperate huff, “Aaron…” He places a kiss on your thigh before removing his thumb off your clit, giving your lower abdomen a loving caress. He moves his other hand in between your legs, pushing two fingers into you. After he brought you so close to the edge a moment ago, you already felt yourself pulsing around his fingers. Aaron moves back in between your thighs, wrapping his mouth around your clit. He expertly works your sensitive numb while driving his fingers in and out of you. He curls his fingers just right, pressing right into your g-shot. Your hips buck softly while pleasurable whimpers escape your mouth. Aaron picks up his speed to match your eagerness. You feel the pressure quickly building in your stomach, getting close to your release. As you moan and squirm, he flicks his tongue over your clit, adding to the stimulation. He inserts a third finger. Stretching you out in the best way before pressing the tips of his large fingers into the perfect spot. You throw your head back, broken moans falling out of your mouth. Shutting your eyes tight as you see stars, orgasming hard. Aaron keeps working you through your orgasm. Your whole body feels like it's vibrating as waves of satisfaction wash over you. As you start coming down from your orgasm, you slowly begin regaining your baring. You let go of Aaron’s hair, allowing your limbs go limp as you just focus on breathing. He carefully laps up all your juices. When he is all finished, Aaron kisses up your lower abdomen, working his way up to your chest. You let out a content hum, finally opening your eyes again. He stops right under your breasts before standing up fully.  

    You sit upon your elbows shakily. Seeing Aaron undo his tie and tossing it to the side before unbuttoning his shirt. You smile at Aaron, lazily pulling off your own shirt, followed by your bra. When he pulls his shirt off, Aaron grins down at you. His lust-filled eyes trail over you. You both had seen each other naked before, but it was always in mundane situations like changing clothes or showering when you stayed the night with him. This was the first time you both had the time to just take each other in. Aaron was a very handsome man. Amazingly toned body with just enough chest hair trailing down his torso. Looking at him like this, you were also able to see all his scars. You had no issue with these blemishes. Hell, you got your fair share on the job as well. But it was the history behind his scars that had you lingering on his chest, making your heart hurt. You looked back up to Aaron’s eyes and started to sit up, “Come here.” Your voice came out hoarse but sweet. Aaron eagerly obliged, moving in to kiss you softly. You smile as you kiss him back, letting your hands gently explore his chest. He grabs your hips and picks you up, moving you both further onto the mattress. Once he is positioned over you on the bed, you wrap your legs around his waist. This time you both take a bit longer. He holds himself up on one hand so his other one can run up your side. You lean into his touch, deepening the kiss. Aaron’s hand slides up so he can fondle one of your breasts. You let out a small moan, arching your back. You feel Aaron’s hard member causing you to start grinding up and down his shaft. Your thighs start getting slick again, the more you rub against him. Aaron groans and stops kissing you, “Are you ready?” You smile, giving him a nod. He takes his hand off your chest. Looking down as he moves his hand to line up his cock with your entrance. He slowly pushes into your pussy, causing you to let out a pitiful moan. After getting the tip inside of you, Aaron looks up at you. His dark eyes lock with yours so he can watch your expression as he pushes further inside of you. Your hand gently grasps onto his chest as you feel him going deeper. With each inch, you feel your pussy stretching further. Short moans pour out of your mouth as you look up at Aaron, who hasn't taken his eyes off you. His hips finally press into yours as he bottoms out. The moan you let out is much louder this time. You lean up and give him tender kisses as you let your body adjust to his size. He returns the gesture causing you to smile happily.  

    You start shifting your hips, ready for him to start moving. Aaron pulls almost all the way out of you before thrusting back into your pussy. You let out a pleased gasp before he starts to kiss down your neck. You close your eyes and tilt your head to the side, opening more of your neck for him. Aaron’s cock moves in and out of you, going at a sensual pace. Taking his time so you can both thoroughly enjoy this. Starting to pant as you let your hands start wandering over his chest again. He starts sucking at the skin on your neck, causing you to shiver. His cock manages to hit the perfect spot inside you every time, making you arch your back. In response, Aaron starts thrusting harder. Filling the room with the sound of skin slapping together mixed with your moans and his grunts. The skin on your neck starts to get tender. You glide your hand up his chest. Moving your hand to tangle your fingers in his hair, gently pulling him off your neck. He removes his mouth from your neck. Kissing his way up to your chin, stopping when he gets to your lips. You kiss him deeply as he trails a hand down your body, slipping between your legs. Excitedly you buck your hips. Aaron pushes his fingers onto your clit, massaging to match the pace of his thrusts. You moan into his mouth as your kissing gets sloppier. Electricity starts to surge through your body as you feel your orgasm building. You thrust back against him, chasing your release. Aaron skillfully hastens his fingers while making sure to drag his cock against your g-spot with every thrust. You cling to him as your orgasm overwhelms you. Breaking the kiss so you can gasp and pant as your body quivers. He keeps going, prolonging your pleasure. As your orgasm comes to an end, your pussy starts to pulse. Aaron moans, his thrusts becoming staggered. The post-sex haze clears out of your mind, just enough to focus on one thing. You use all your energy to massage his cock with your pussy muscles. He lets out a low grunt, moving his hands to grasp onto your hips as he finishes. Shooting a huge load deep inside you. You let out a satisfied moan. Aaron’s hips come to a stop as he rests his forehead on your chest. Able to feel his hot breath on your skin as he pants. You focus on regaining your senses. As your chest stops heaving, you loosen your hand in his hair. Choosing to lazily run your fingers through his hair instead. Aaron makes a content noise as his breathing evens out. He pulls out of you, resting on top of you. You whine from the loss of contact. In response, he brings his head up and gives you an affectionate kiss. You smile softly and give him a kiss back.

  =====================================

     After a few more moments pass, you both detangle from each other. Aaron rolls over off of you and lays on the bed next to you. You chuckle, “If I had known you were that good in bed, I would have jumped you a lot sooner.” Aaron’s hand finds yours as he laughs, “I second that.” You give his hand a squeeze. Letting out a groan as you get up off the bed. He sits up, giving you an inquisitive look. You smile, “Stay in here and get comfy. I’ll be back.” A smile slips onto Aaron’s face, and he nods. You quickly slip out into the kitchen, grabbing the no longer fresh pizza off the stove. Putting it on a tray before cutting it up. You happily trot back into your room, pizza in hand. When you walk in you, see Aaron sitting up against the headboard. You let out a content hum as you turn on the tv in your room and slide into your side of the bed. Placing the dish between the two of you, “Well, it's not warm anymore because someone…” You turn and grin at him, “Distracted us.” Aaron chuckles and kisses you, “You liked it.” You shrug playfully and grab a slice, “That is not relevant.” He grabs you and pulls you in closer to him, “It's very relevant.” You laugh as you snuggle up with him, “You went to law school, so I’m just going to concede and let you win.” You give him a quick kiss before you begin eating. He smiles and starts eating to join you. You and Aaron snuggled up close under the sheets. Not caring about what you were watching, or that you both were still bare and messy as you both ate. Deciding to worry about it in the morning so you both could enjoy this time together. After eating and pushing the tray off to the side, you and Aaron finally lie down to sleep for the night. 

    You had agreed to go work out with Aaron, which seems like it could be nice. That was until you were actually in the process of getting ready for it. You both had cleaned up your room, started laundry, and then showered before beginning to get prepared. You had to actually find your workout clothes, you only used them when you needed to do your FBI physical exam. You dug through boxes until you found it. You huff, “Whatever we are doing better be fun after all this effort to find the clothes…” You pulled them on. Aaron chuckles, “I think it’s fun.” He had been ready for a while now. Since he only had to dig the clothes out of the go-bag be brought over. He watches you change. You finish getting dressed in a pair of tight workout pants, a tank top, and tennis shoes. You walk to Aaron and smile, “I know I will at least enjoy spending time with you.” You kiss him on the cheek. Looking down to admire how hot he looked in his workout gear. Aaron kisses you back on the lips before grabbing his keys, and you both exit your apartment. 

    The drive there was quick and straightforward. As you got out of Aaron’s car, you admired the scenery. It was a beautiful spacious park, not too many people here this early in the morning. You walk around to the front of his car, “So, do we just pick a trail and run?” Aaron chuckles and walks over to you, “That is how it usually works.” You make a curious noise, “Usually?” You grin at him, “Are we going to be doing something different? Like a competition or something?” Aaron gives you a smack on the ass to get you to walk with him, “Do you really want to race me? I do this about once a week.” You make a face as you and him walk together, “Well, you’ll have an advantage, but I’m a competitive person.” You grin at Aaron. You both stop at a trail. He laughs, “Fine, we will see if you can keep up.” You stand in front of him, “Not so fast. What are the stakes?” Aaron narrows his eyes at you, “Stakes?” You roll your eyes, “What are we betting? Like sex stuff or like dates or paperwork?” You tilt your head at him. Aaron grabs your hips and laughs, “Let’s leave our job out of this. Those other two things, though…” You grin devilishly and kiss him. Aaron kisses you back and then pulls away, “A date. We haven't really had time to go on any.” You smile happily, “Winner plans the date, loser pays for it?” He thinks about it, “Deal.” Aaron has a big smile on his face, and you can't help but smile back. You lean in and give him one last peck before moving back beside him. 

    You were a competitive person, and you tried your hardest. But you were no match for Aaron. He really did train often, and it showed. You didn't love losing. You did enjoy the view from behind him as you ran. He finally finished running. You caught up with him soon after. You were panting hard. Bending over to hold your knees as you tried to catch your breath, “Aren't you supposed to take it easy on me since we’re dating?” Each word came out in between a breath. Aaron laughs, panting as well, but less than you were, “That would be cheating...” As you stare at the pavement, you hear him walk over. He rubs your back, “I also want to keep you healthy.” You groan and stand up straight, “Yes, so I can live forever, and you can further torment me with this kind of thing.” You give him a playful glare, your breath finally coming back to you. Aaron smiles and kisses you softly, “That's the plan.” A smile replaces your glare, “I can live with that.” You grin and start heading back to his car, “I’ll just have to annoy you for the rest of your life in return.” Aaron rolls his eyes, smiling as he takes your hand in his, “I think I can manage that.” You hum happily and tangle your fingers with his. You rest your head against his shoulder as you both walk. It was nice to be able to show affection in public or affection at all. Considering you both had to monitor every micro-expression you made at work to keep everyone out of trouble. Aaron comments as you reach his car, “We have a few hours before we need to pick up Jack.” He leans down and plants a kiss on the top of your head, causing you to let out a pleased hum. You both separate before getting into his car. 

    After getting back home, both you and Aaron got cleaned up and changed. Giving you a little time to lounge on the couch before going to pick up Jack. Aaron drove to the house that Jack had stayed at last night. Casually discussing what to do for lunch while he drove. When Aaron got to the house, he parked out front before getting out of the car. You stay in the vehicle, assuming this was more of a ‘parental’ situation. Not that you weren't interested in taking on a parental role of some kind with Jack, but you always worried about overstepping. Aaron gets a few steps towards the house before turning around. He furrowed his brow, trying to figure out what you were doing. You slowly get out of the car, “I wasn't sure if you'd want me to join you.” Aaron chuckles, gently placing his hand on your back to walk with you, “Between the two of us, I’m supposed to be the worrier.” He turns and leans down to kiss your cheek, “You worry too much.” You both walk up the stairs to the front door. You huff, “One could argue that I don't worry enough.” Aaron smiles, rolling his eyes at you. He takes his arm off your back and knocks. After a minute or so, a woman answers the door, “Ohh! Hello, Aaron.” You hear the two kids playing somewhere in the house. The woman smiles, opening the door up for you both, “You both must be here for Jack.” Aaron smiles and nods, before stepping into the house. You follow behind, trying your best not to start profiling the house. The woman peaks around the corner of the hallway, “Jack, your dad is here.” The woman turns back to you both, “Jack is such a polite young boy. My Aiden could learn something from him.” Aaron smiles, “I don't think I can take all the credit for that, but thank you.” Jack comes around the corner with his backpack in tow. Jack’s face lights up when he sees both of you, and you can’t help but smile. Aaron crouches down, and Jack runs to give his dad a hug. Aaron hugs him back, Jack looks over at you, “You came too?” You nod happily, “Of Course, I said all three of us were going to hang out today, didn’t I?” You see another little boy, who must be Aiden, walk up behind his mom. Jack breaks away from the hug and goes to grab onto your hand. Jack waves at his friend, “Bye, Aiden.” You return the gesture and hold Jack’s hand. Aaron stands up, talking to Aiden’s mother, “Thank you for having Jack over Maggie.” Jack gives a big smile, “Thank you, Miss.” You smile and wave at the woman before Jack starts gently, guiding you to the car. You follow behind him, letting him lead you. You hear Aaron exchange a few more words with Maggie. Jack looks back at you, “What are we going to do?” You chuckle as you crouch down, “Well, I was thinking lunch and…” You talk a little quieter, “I was hoping you'd help me convince your dad to take us to a fun ice cream place after.” Jack gets excited and tackles you with a hug, “I love ice cream.” Aaron walks up behind the both of you, “I heard you plotting.” You chuckle and hug the little boy back. Ruffling his hair before you stand back up, “I don't know what you're talking about.” The three of you get into the car and head out for lunch. 

    The first stop was for actual food. You let Jack pick what kind of food to get. He ends up picking burgers, so the three of you go to a local burger place downtown. It was nice having such a calm day with your two boys. A small part of you worried that a call from work would come in any minute and interrupt everything. But by the time you all went to get ice cream, the suspicion had finally left your mind. It didn't take really any convincing from either Jack or yourself to get Aaron to take you to get ice cream. You knew a perfect place. One of those ice cream parlors with more flavors then you could imagine with just as many toppings. Luckily you were right, and Jack had a field day picking out what he wanted. Thinking both you and Aaron enjoyed watching how excited Jack was more then you both enjoyed the ice cream itself. Your mid-day outing was finished up by lazily strolling around the shopping area downtown. 

    That ended up being kind of a poor decision. Only because you couldn't resist Jack’s adorable excited face when he saw something he wanted. So, you found yourself buying some things for Jack. Aaron shook his head and chuckled, “You're spoiling him.” You huff and follow Jack around, a few bags already in your hands, “I don't have any issues with that.” You watch Jack look over the items on the shelves. You look over at Aaron, “You can pick some stuff out too. I’ll just spoil you both.” You grin at him. Jack picks up a toy, looking so serious and considered, debating whether he wants it. Aaron sarcastically gestures around in the toy section, “So many choices.” You glare at Aaron, “Har. Har.” You playfully nudge him with your shoulder, “Keep it up, and I’ll only buy you boring stuff.” Aaron laughs and leans over to kiss you, “I have everything I want right here.” Aaron motions to Jack and then you. You kiss Aaron back and blush, “You're a huge sap.” You lean into Aaron, and he wraps his hand around your waist as you both keep following Jack around. Even when you wrapped up your shopping adventure, Jack was such a well-behaved kid that he didn't pick out an overabundance of stuff. Sticking with maybe a handful of toys rather than going crazy with your offer to buy him things. Once checked out, all of you head back to the car before driving to your apartment. 

    You unlock the door to your apartment, opening the door wide to let Jack go in first. The little boy cautiously creeps into your place. You give Jack a comforting pat on the back, “It’s okay, kiddo. You can run around.” Jack looks up at you, double-checking that he heard you right. You smile down at him and nod. Jack even looks back at Aaron to make sure his dad thinks it's okay. Aaron nods, “Go ahead, buddy.” Jack moves faster, curiously scurrying around. You step in with Aaron following behind you. You watch Jack inspect everything in your apartment. Carrying the bags in your hands into your guest bedroom that is now Jack’s. You hear Aaron talking to Jack, “Come with me for a second, they have a surprise for you.” You set the bags next to the child’s bed. Soon you see Aaron carrying Jack into the room.  Jack turns in his father's arms, peaking around. The boy starts wiggling, and Aaron laughs before setting him down. Jack runs over to the small bed and looks from it to you, “For me?” You smile happily and kneel down, “Mhm, your own bed if you want it.” Jack runs over to you, his eyes lighting up. He attacks you with a hug, knocking the air out of your lungs. You laugh and hug Jack back. Jack mumbles into your shoulder, “It is so cool.” You scoop Jack up, “Let’s go have some fun.” Turning towards the door, you see Aaron with a massive smile on his face, watching you both. You walk over, giving Aaron a kiss while you keep a safe grip on Jack. Aaron kisses you back before the three of you head out to the living room for the rest of the night. 

    The rest of the night was pure domestic happiness. Relaxing on the couch, watching whatever movie sounded good. While Jack alternated between snuggling up with you and Aaron and playing with some of his new toys. When dinner rolls around, you go and make it for all three of you. Aaron was right, Jack was thrilled with mac and cheese with hotdogs. Not that you doubted him, but clearly you were a worrier at heart, at least when it came to things like this. Small silly chit chat while you all eat around your small dining room table you don't think you’ve ever used before. After you all finished eating, it was back to the couch for some pleasant lounging. The sun dropped down below the horizon as nighttime rolled around. Jack was the first to start yawning, signaling that it was bedtime. Aaron sent Jack to go put on pajamas. When that was finished, Aaron went into Jack’s new room and started to read the little boy to sleep. You leaned in on the doorway so you could listen to Aaron continue reading from the book you picked out a few weeks ago. When Jack was sound asleep, both you and Aaron headed into your room to get ready for bed. Once prepared, you both began cuddling on the bed. While you were closing your eyes and trying to sleep, you thought about a few things. 

    You enjoyed your job, enjoy being a loose term because of the murder and whatnot. You usually had a problem sitting still for too long. Which is why you normally worked as early and as late as Hotch did. Today, however, had given you a realization of sorts. You really enjoyed being with both Aaron and Jack all day. You have never given much thought to having a family or anything like that. You had decided to altogether ditch any social life you had when you set your sights on joining the BAU. After joining them even looking past the crush you had on Hotch, the whole team became your family, and you were content with that. But after you and Aaron revealed your feelings for each other, it opened a whole door of possibility you had never thought of before. You had only officially been dating for a few weeks, but you had been close for almost two years, and that seemed to have accelerated things a bit. So, as you drifted to sleep, one last thought crossed your mind. It may have been too early to actually bring it up, but you welcomed the idea of becoming a cute little family unit with Aaron and Jack.

Continuation of Co-Conspirators – Part 1–Part 2–Part 3*–Part 4–Part 5 –Part 6

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal​ @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25​

If you wanna be tagged in future installments comment on this or send me an ask please <3

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 72: Ring Road

Chapters: 72/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: T

Relationships: Loki x Reader

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent),

Summary:  A funeral for a giant.

You woke up to the gentle alarm sounded by Loki's magic. You were warm, and comfortable, and...mildly sore, but not too bad.

Oh, right.

Loki was curled protectively around you, snuggled up so close, he was like a second blanket. The sun had not risen yet, but that didn't mean much at this time of year. The sun was rising later and later, setting earlier and earlier. Winter was close.

You rolled over in his arms to face him, but he was already awake, gazing adoringly at you.

“You're still here.” He murmured.

“Of course. Did you think I wouldn't be?”

“I'd hoped you would.”

“Hey. Hey.” You cupped his cheek. “I'm not going anywhere, okay?”

He helped you dress, sensual and loving touch smoothing the wrinkles in your clothes, then shared a light breakfast with you. He'd had you start sitting under a special lamp once the days had started shortening; this was common for humans in Iceland, he said. To maintain health. So you had a portable one you could take with you most places-to lessons with Saga, to his rooms, even to the council rooms and throne room, so you could have simulated sunlight wherever you went.

“It makes you radiant.” He said.

“I wonder what people here did before these were invented?”

“Suffered, probably.”

You ate, bathed in light.

“Loki...”

“You have questions. I anticipated this. I do not know why I am so small compared to other Jotun, but I do know that I was born this way. I was not expected to survive, and so I was left to die in a special place, as part of a Jotun ritual.”

“That...sounds awful.”

“It is their way. In a way, Odin taking me with him was a final insult to their very culture. But it allowed me to survive.”

“Why can I touch you like this, but not like that?”

“This isn't an illusion. I am more than just an illusionist, I am a shapeshifter. You can touch me in this form, because it's real. When I am in Asgardian shape, I truly am Asgardian.”

He held out his milky hand, and you caressed his palm.

“Everybody else knows, don't they?” You asked.

Loki nodded. “Once I found out, I knew everyone else would eventually. I wanted to control the method of the revelation, so I...well I wrote a play.”

“A play? You can write too? Is there anything you can't do?”

Loki flushed. “A few things.” He admitted bashfully.

“I want to see it!”

“Not yet! I mean, we don't have facilities, or actors. We don't have the time. But someday, yes.” He seemed nervous. Maybe he was embarrassed about it. He never said it was a good play, after all.

“Loki, if you're Asgardian when you shapeshift into one, then why worry about being a Frost Giant to begin with? You can be anything, and it's real.” You asked.

“Humans are highly mutable.” Loki explained. “Your cultures move and change quickly. Even those whose identity goes back thousands of years will find that not all of their customs are exactly the same as they were. It's kind of admirable, actually.

But Asgard moves much more slowly. The war between the Frost Giants and Asgard is over, except that it isn't. It's barely been a single generation since then. Thor was born in the middle of that war; I was born at the end. It is within recent memory. I was raised around people who had fought, people who had lost loved ones. I was raised on the residual hate. It became a part of me.

Maybe that would be all I was grappling with, if I had known from the start. Maybe I would have had time to come to terms, to grow a thicker skin. But the centuries of lies on top of that; the man who raised me watching that prejudice grow in me and not bothering to do anything about it, as if he thought a lie could ever last forever with me around.”

“But it did, didn't it? Almost forever. Did you ever question?”

“Yes and no. I knew something was wrong, but I dismissed it. Ignored it. I didn't want to look into it.”

“The only person who can lie to you is you, huh?”

“Oh, stop being so insightful, will you?” Loki scowled.

“Sorry, can't. It's my job.”

                                                                        ******

Two days later, you were on the road again.

This was a funeral procession. You, Loki, and Thor, as well as ten einherjar and six masons, two cooks, and the Asgardian equivalent of a priest.

And, of course, the giant.

He had been tightly and carefully wrapped, almost like a huge mummy, to keep his head in place, and make him safe for transport and handling. He had been placed in a wooden cart, which would act also as his coffin. He had been veiled, and most of his possessions placed in the cart with him, along with what the Asgardians considered peace offerings. Honor, even towards an enemy, was a matter of common practice. After all, if one sent an opponent to Valhalla, it wouldn't do to leave them angry with one upon one's own entry.

And so a helmet had been placed with him, and a nice blanket, a pickax, a basket of wheat, and a pan flute. You had left him a book, but you wondered if that was any good as a gift. After all, a thousand years ago, your language hadn't existed in the form you knew. Saga had shown you what Old English looked like, and you hadn't even recognized it. It had made you feel strange and small.

Was it an appropriate gift? A book he couldn't understand? Or was it the thought that counted?

“We don't really do grave goods where I'm from.” You'd told Loki. “I don't really know what to give.”

“What do you value?” He'd asked. “If it means something to you, it should be fine.”

And so it had to be a book. Old stories of Americana-Mark Twain, and Maya Angelou, and Edgar Allen Poe. Little chunks of your culture over time, and from different perspectives. You hoped if he could read it in that big black hole in the sky, that he found some enjoyment from it.

You, however, were finding very little enjoyment on this trip. Not only was it violently cold, but the wind was a cruel whip that lashed at you until Loki draped his heavy cloak over your head, creating a tent. That kept the wind out, but also completely blocked your vision, forcing you to let him guide Acorn, instead of you.

Though Acorn was a sturdy and stalwart little thing, born and bred on the frigid Icelandic landscape, she was distressed by the Frost Giant in his cart. To keep her calm, Loki moved the two of you forward, closer to him, but that just increased your frustration.

You wanted to be close to Loki, and he clearly wanted to be too, but there was no time, no opportunity. You were frozen out on the road, and this was a funeral procession. There was propriety to observe.

From under Loki's cloak, you could not see any of the beautiful landscape around you, and while you were enveloped in his comforting scent, the cloak also blocked out what little sun the island got at that time of year. For the entire four day trip, you saw little light, other than the evening cooking fires when the procession set up camp.

Then, with the tents set up as a windbreak, and dinner cooking over the fire, you were able to look up as the crystal clear sky, scattered with diamonds and flowing ribbons of color.

You'd never seen the auroras before this, but you could see how people became enchanted by their otherworldly aura.

“It's like the Bifrost, isn't it?” You said to Loki, who was staring up into the night just like you were. He was tucked up close to the fire with you, stealing the only moments of intimacy the two of you could find. “Is that what they saw, way back when? A way to reach the gods? How many ways did people interpret this, if they didn't know the science behind it?”

“Knowing the science doesn't necessarily remove the magic, now does it?” Loki said. “We know how lightning and thunder works. We know what causes it. We know that men should not be able to command it, and yet...”

“Is it magic?” You asked, staring at the swirling colors.

“Perhaps.” Loki said. “Of a kind.”

There wasn't even any privacy to be had in the tents; they were large group affairs, meant to house several people each, with little dividers hanging between them. The best you could get was wriggling your hand under the divider to hold Loki's, but the cold permeated just enough that you couldn't do it for long. You eventually had to hunker down into your thick, fluffy sleeping bag until only your nose and mouth were exposed to the open air.

You dressed yourself in the mornings in very heavy, but much less elaborate clothing than usual. Loki had insisted that you wear some of your armor on the trip, your breastplate and helmet, just in case there were any opportunistic enemies out in the countryside.

“When you are writhing in my arms,” He had whispered into your ear. “I don't want it to be from pain.”

On Acorn's back, under Loki's cloak, you tried to come up with an appropriate blessing for the dead giant.

What could you say? You still felt some kind of responsibility. You hadn't tried to deescalate the situation. You hadn't tried to talk to the giant. Hadn't tried to calm him down, or warn him. Just threatened him, antagonized him, distracted him.

But the kids...He had already killed several people, injured Kolla right in front of you, and was threatening the children...

What would you have done, if you knew nothing about Frost Giants? If Asgardian prejudice had not been taught to you?

Screamed a lot and gotten squished probably.

Would it be insulting to the giant's spirit to beg forgiveness or show remorse? To consider his death a terrible accident that could have been averted? Would a warrior want words like that?

The funeral procession had traveled back to Akureyri to get onto the Ring Road, a highway that circled the entire island in a single, unbroken stretch of asphalt. It was much easier to navigate than cross country would have been, but went a little out of the way as well, taking you along the northern part of the island, when your destination was in the east.

It seemed they had drawn a lot of attention as well. There weren't many tourists at this time of year, only the most hardcore of explorers, but the Icelanders themselves used the road regularly. Every now and then you peeked out from under Loki's cloak to see an ever-changing entourage of people; on horses, in small cars or buses, all waving and calling out, either questions or encouragement, you weren't familiar enough with Icelandic to tell.

Loki and Thor took it well, chatting with people who were brave and careful enough to approach. Some of them expressed what you thought was probably fear or shock at the dead giant, but more reacted with curiosity.

That was the general reaction Icelanders had to Asgardians. Iceland was a Christian country, but not quite in the way that America was. The vast majority of Icelanders that you saw showed no hostility toward Asgard, even though they represented a major religious crisis. It was very different from the fractious contention Asgard generated back home. You definitely preferred this.

How long, you began to wonder, until you weren't American anymore? Was it possible, as an adult, to absorb enough culture from another land, that it made you something other than what you'd grown up as? Or would you always be a foreigner; exotic, but accepted?

The long road split off towards the eastern interior of the island, before reaching Rekjavik, leading you even further away from civilization, and into the wilderness. But Okjokull was a depressing reminder that civilization had reached out into the wilderness, and touched even the most remote of places.

Okjokull, or rather, just Ok now, had once been a glacier, covering an extinct shield volcano. Now, the volcano and the glacier were both extinct. Under Loki's cloak, you had studied on your phone, looking up pictures of the glacier back in the nineteen-eighties, when it covered the whole area. But now, the horses hooves ground the gravel of the exposed landscape; a barren area, with only a few scattered chunks of ice, here and there. Over the course of one human lifetime, the whole thing had disappeared.

It disturbed you. Icelanders certainly believed in climate change. They'd seen this happen. They'd held a funeral. And here you were for another one.

The masons fell into building, directing the einherjar. After getting permission from the government, Thor estimated it would take no more than a day and a half of hard work to build a decent barrow for the giant, whose decaying body might-might-help to rebuild the glacier.

If not, his presence here might become just another tourist destination, another relic of the islands past.

You watched them dig out a large hole, deep enough to roll the cart into, and cover it halfway. Then they began packing in the larger stones, building a large mound that would hold up under it's own weight. Next came a low wall, surrounding the entire grave at a distance of about ten feet, to indicate that this was no natural formation, and lastly, a bronze plaque, set into a large stone at the front of the fence, declaring what this was, and urging caution when approaching.

Thor had been correct; the entire thing was finished before nightfall on the second day. The entire entourage gathered as the priest said a simple farewell to the giant, and everyone present murmured their own blessings before releasing a glowing, golden orb of magic into the sky.

“If we meet in another life, I hope to learn your name.” You had said, while beside you, you had heard Loki mumble: “Rest. We will take care of them.”

Snow had begun to fall; fluffy white flakes sticking to everything. You wondered if it would get high enough to bury the barrow, as you were hustled off to sit on Acorn's warm back, wrapped up in Loki's cloak once more. Everyone packed up in a huge hurry: Thor told you that the procession needed to get back to the Ring Road quickly, before the smaller, country roads that led to Ok were snowed over. The Asgardians feared that if they got snowed in, you would be in danger of freezing, but the Ring Road was kept clear.

Once back on the open road, you peeked out from under the thick tent of Loki's fine cloak and gazed out over the wide countryside. Far in the distance, to the west, you could just barely see a dome of faint light that must have been Reykjavik. Loki had said he would take you there on the tour of the island he promised you this spring. But for now, this was as close as you would get.

It amazed you to think that you could traverse an entire country by horse so easily. Your old home just went on and on and on, forever and ever. It seemed no matter how many miles you traveled, there was always another mile of Iowa to go. Here, there was a single road that went all the way around. The country was self contained, surrounded on all sides by powerful and mysterious oceans.

A small flush of terror washed over you once again, at re-realizing how isolated and far away from everything familiar you really were. Floating in the frigid North Atlantic on a giant volcano, in the care of aliens. Participating in the funeral of a giant. Riding home on a horse, to hopefully fall right into bed with your divine, royal boyfriend.

Who even were you now?

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 72

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The car I was driving in took a spill of a sheer cliff. It plummeted down for a terrifying moment and I was weightless until it can splashing down in the ink black water.

It started to sink and I panicked but I was locked inside the vehicle as the water slowly rose. In through the cracks the water poured into the vehicle. But it wasn't water. It was Grimm worms and centipedes. Tiny and crawling over each other as they spilled through the air vents and came inside.

The car slowly sank and the bugs came twisting and sliming their way towards me.

‘Just fucking take me,’ I told the dream.

The centipedes were up to my ankles now, slithering over my body and crawling their way inside.

‘It's not real. You'll wake up any minute now,’ I tried to remind myself. It didn't help much. I was in agony.

They crawled through my skin on dozens of legs. Slowly making their way up my waist as the car I was in sinking slowly and inexorably down into the murky depths. I could see nothing out the windows.

The bugs made their way over my shoulders until only my head remained. I tilted my head back up to try and stay out of reach of them but they piled on top of one another as they made their way inside.

They reached my lips and I held my breath and closed my eyes.

I woke up with a gasp. I was alone in my room at Atlas Academy. There were no bugs. I was safe. Or as safe as I ever was with Mother knocking on my figurative door day and night.

I was shaking and couldn't stand as I tried to leave my bed. Phantom pains wracked my body. From the head down I was in unbearable pain. My nerves pulled and twitched. My whole body was malfunctioning as I spasmed.

I didn't scream. I collapsed out of my bed with a gasp and landed on the hard floor. I crawled my way to the bathroom and shower. My body shivered all the while and I was sweating hard.

I crawled on my belly to the shower and disrobed with tremoring arms and legs. I turned it on and sat in the warm shower, letting the heat pour over me. I trembled in the shower under the water.

I tried to shake it off, tried to recover, but the dream stayed with me as I layed on the shower floor. I rubbed my face with my hands.

The medication was just not hitting my dreams. And I doubted they ever would. These were messages from Mother to my subconscious. It was a sign of her presence in my mind. She was there. Like a shark, shifting just beneath the surface.

I eventually mastered enough of myself to leave the shower on my two legs. I dried myself off briskly. I walked to a drawer in my room by the bed and pulled it open. It was full of little pill bottles. I read through the labels for a moment and pulled one open and popped a tablet under my tongue to dissolve.

I let it happen and relaxed into the sweet taste of the powdering pill.

It was one of the tranquilizers to help me relax. I was taking about six of them a day. My doctors wanted me to be at zero. The medication was addictive even at low dosages. But I needed them for the panic and what I was starting to suspect were small seizures related to the fear. The shaking was just too much. It made me feel epileptic, even.

There came a knock by my door. A crisp sound. I walked up and paranoia made me check the peephole. It was Weiss. I swung the door open.

"Weiss," I greeted.

"Cloud," she returned. "I heard the water running through the walls." They'd gotten me a room next to team RWBY's. "I wanted to check on you. It's the middle of the night. What are you doing in the shower?"

"Why are you up?" I asked. I dodged her question for a moment. I knew she wouldn’t let it go for real. I stood aside to let her in. She stepped inside with her hair drawn mid back height and down around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were like crystal in the dull, low light.

"I sometimes read late into the night on my scroll. It's a bad habit to have but it's one of my vices. Are you alright?"

"Just another nightmare. Moth-Salem related. I think. I can never be one hundred percent sure. I had to crawl to my shower I was shaking so bad."

"Shaking? From what?"

"The fear. The loss of control over my nerves. Take your pick."

"I didn't realize it was still so bad. I thought the medication was supposed to help."

"They are. But the shaking was pretty bad." I took a moment and breathed. "You know what?" I asked.

"What's that?" She asked. Concern written blatantly on her face.

"I've lived a while and been around and I think untreated PTSD and depression can cause mini-strokes. Or mini-seizures."

"Don't stop talking there for gods' sake!" She looked horrified.

"What else is there to tell? I think I'm going through it. Or it could just be Salem related or have to do with how I was grown. If I have serious brain damage as a result of one or both of those, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Did you take anything to help with it?"

"I just took one of the tranquilizers they prescribed."

"But you're not resting well," she concluded. She paced over and sat on my bed. She tapped next to her and indicated for me to join her.

I nodded and sighed but did, placing myself down beside her.

"Sleep is when I'm vulnerable. It's when she gets me," I informed her with a shaking voice.

"You need to sleep," she murmured gently.

"You don't think I know that?" I spat the words out. "Sorry. Sorry. It's just frustrating. You don't deserve that."

"When was the last time you got some real rest?" She wondered with a simple, minute nod to accept my apology.

"I've been double dosing on those tranquilizers at night. It's been helping a little," I informed her. I rubbed at my temple with my thumb and forefinger.

"Should you be abusing your meds?" She asked.

"It's not my fault. My meds abused me first. They all have side effects. All of them. And then they prescribe me something to deal with the side effects which in turn has its own side effects. It's a spiral but it's my brain that's being fucked up. And some of them have addictive properties in league with hyper. I can't miss a dose of some of them without going through miniature withdrawals. Suicidal thoughts are the best symptoms of that withdrawal I can hope for, there are worse ones. Ones that are indistinguishable from my symptoms."

"Is it really so bad?"

"It's not great."

"You always say you're doing alright," she whispered.

"I am alright. This is alright for me now. This is what that looks like."

"’Alright’ is mini-strokes and seizures?"

"Maybe " I shrugged. "Don't tell Ruby."

"Why not?"

"She'll just worry over me. No reason to cause her undue distress. This is just what I am now."

"I think she deserves to know. So we can make a decision together. The three of us can make a decision about your health together. You're not alone," she promised me. She reached out and took both of my hands. All but forcing me to look her in the eye.

"Like what? Putting me back in a hospital?" I asked.

"If that's what it takes for you to get better, what's wrong with that?"

"They'll take my weapon. Again. They'll take my weapon again and they'll lock me up, for who knows how long."

"Does your therapist know? About all this?" She wondered.

"I've been telling her everything. Even about my creation."

"That couldn't have been easy. That was very brave of you."

"I don't want to be pitied. You should get that."

"You don't have my pity. I admire your strength," she whispered back. She put her arm on the middle of my back. "You're sick. Not weak."

I laughed a little and she looked at me concerned. "I'm not going to get better from this. What Salem is doing to me is for keeps. This shit is eternal. Brain damage is permanent damage."

"You can fight her," Weiss vowed at me with big blue eyes. Her silvery hair strewn out behind her head in a curtain.  

"Hardly. She's so… so big. And I'm so small. I'm like a dog to her. I feel like I’m just a dog."

"Cloud, you've already done so much. I believe in you. Even changing your name."

"Symbolic and nothing more, that is. It changes nothing. She still has me."

"It isn't symbolic. You're beating her. You've been winning. You kept the relic safe. You killed Tyrian. You did what you could. And you fight so awake!"

"I feel half asleep all the time. I'm so doped up just to stay functional. I don't even know what it means to be awake."

"I don't know what to say. You seem to be okay during waking hours."

"I'll be fine. I'm still waking from that dream. Plus I've got somebody to complain at and that's only revving me up."

"Would you rather I left?" She wondered.

"No. No, not that. I'm not going to get any sleep so if you weren't here I'd just be alone. Awake and alone."

She held my hand in a tight squeeze. "I'm here for you, Cloud. Anything you need. I can help you as much as you want me to."

"You're already helping me. Just… thanks for listening. And for coming to check on me," I said.

"Of course," she whispered. She gave me a gentle kiss on the forehead. She ran one hand through my hair against the back of my head.

I leaned my head down into her lap and let her stroke at my long blonde fronds.

"Ruby and I are always here for you. You're doing so well. We're so proud of you and the steps you've been willing to go to get better."

"Talking about me behind my back again?" I wondered.

She laughed. A quiet peaceful noise in the emptiness of my room. "Not so much. But we both are. I know she is. And I am too."

"She's going to be the death of me, Mother is."

"Salem." She softly corrected me.

"Salem." I agreed. I groaned as she pulled her fingers through my hair. Her cool fingers touched my scalp. She tasted like something creamy and smooth through the space between us. Her dull white aura tasted delicious. So tranquil. It went down easily.

"You're so strong. You've grown so much. You're so mature and you seem so ready and responsible for whatever may happen."

"I'm not. It's fake. It's fake pressure." I exhaled into her lap.

"You are. I can see it. You can't hide it from me," she murmured. "It's why, well, it's why I think I started to fall for you. You were already like that in Mistral. Before."

"Before I knew what I was."

"No one thinks less of you for your origins but you," she purred at me. "Ruby and I adore you." I breathed hard. "It's only you that thinks that way. Ruby and I have no intention of abandoning you. We'll help you get through this if you let us. I understand if you have to do it alone. But don't suffer in silence on our account. We're here for you," she breathed. "I'm here for you. I trust you."

I kissed her. Low and silky. She bent down slightly over my lips. I sat up slightly and put an arm around her and the other on the inside of her thigh. She let out a shuddering breath as I did. I squeezed her leg and she shifted to rub her thighs together.

Her full lips and the pout of them ran against my tongue and she tasted like some sort of cream pie. Like a custard. Smooth. Sugary. Sweet. A flavor I was liable to gulp down.

I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her down onto me. She straddled me in her nightwear. The thin pants she wore did remarkably little at the range we found ourselves at with her legs on either side of my waist. Her breath came low and fast through her nose and she mewled quietly against me. I bit her lip and she let out a very feminine meek sound.

"Hah…hah..." She panted. "Ah."

The tips of her breasts swelled through her nightgown. I released her for a moment and she leaned back and flicked her platinum hair over her shoulder and out of her pretty face. Her eyes glowed down at me. Soft and blue. There was a heat in them that was difficult to describe.

"I've always wanted you," I panted up at her. "Always."

Her breath hitched slightly at my words and she descended back down on me. Her tongue wrestled with mine before they parted ways to examine the others' mouth. Her tongue was smooth and it glid along my teeth softly. It explored me carefully. Her hips rocked against me and she let out a quiet purr as she ground her pelvis downwards into my shorts.

I groaned. My hands came up behind her to grab her rear and pull her down onto me.

"Wait," she breathed. "Wait."

"Me wait?" I asked like the dumbass caveman I was. "You're on top of me."

She beat my hard chest with a tiny, tiny fist. "You know what I meant. This isn't what I came in here for." The effect of her hitting me was ruined when her hand turned flat and wound up stroking my firm pectoral with the whole of her small hand. Her palm rubbed from my collar all the way to my sternum.

Her other hand descended and came against my barrel of a stomach. She traced her fingers under my shirt and against my skin.

"Plans change." I gave her firm butt a squeeze through her night clothes and her breath hitched again quietly above me. Her pale lips parted in two for a quiet gasp.

"Not like this. I want Ruby to be there for it when we do… when we do anything," she decided on her phrasing.

"Then let's not do anything like that," I agreed with her.

"We already kind of are," she disagreed.

She ground her hips down onto me to prove the point and she made me gasp. I looked into her eye and I could see her desire to do it again. She wanted me to make that noise again. I wanted her to do it again too.

"We don't have to do anything more than what we are," I amended.

She traced her hand further under my shirt and splayed her fingers against my ribs. I groaned into her touch.

"You have so many scars." She pulled my shirt up and examined my chest. "These ones," she stroked across my upper chest and lower stomach. I shuddered and got goosebumps. "Were from Tyrian," she continued. "What about this long one?" Her fingers lined up over my new addition. The laceration under my ribs left behind by a blade of energy.  

"Taurus. Adam Taurus. He cut me with his semblance. It glanced off my armor, got me there."

I sat up and pulled my shirt all the way off rather than leave it halfway on. She looked at me and blushed like a virgin.

"Better?" I asked.

She nodded. She reached out tentatively and touched me. "Tyrian really did a number on you, didn't he?"

"He almost killed me. Turned my chest into hamburger for a bit there. Ruby had to run me back to town and get me stitched up. She thought I was going to die."

"You've been through a lot."

"And it all keeps coming"

"Which is how I know that you can get through this. Ruby and I trust you with our lives."

"You shouldn't, that's a mistake.”

"Maybe. But it's my decision. No one else gets to make it for me. I trust Ruby and I trust you. Try and get some sleep, Cloud. I won't go anywhere."

pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq pq

-WG

[a-shakespearean-in-paris]

First 20 Lines

thanks for the tags @galadrieljones and @thevikingwoman to list the first 20 lines of my last 20 fics published. I think I’ve done this before so I decided to do what Gala did and list out the first lines of my last 20 chapters of IWD. 

72: Learning

To Lydia’s dismay, there was no time for grand escapes, at least not yet.

71: Repentance 

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

70: A Spark

Lydia read Cullen’s first letter a week and a half into the journey.

69: Devotion 

Cullen received word Lydia and her companions took the mine shaft to the underground a week after her departure.

68: Teaching

“Construction on the mechanism is at work Inquisitor. You’ll be able to reach the Deep Roads in a week’s time.”

67: Time

It had always been Fereldan tradition to tribute those that had passed on All Souls Day.

Chapter 66: Lonely 

For the grand feast in honor of All Soul’s Day at the palace in Denerim, Lydia wore the dark sea blue that matched her eyes, a subtle paisley pattern against the thick fabric.

Chapter 65: Victory

“Did you read the invitation?”

Chapter 64: Theirs 

“Well shit. I can’t do this.”

Chapter 63: Healing

“Did you miss this?”

Chapter 62: Lover

She brought him home, frantic and half mad and with tears streaming down her face as she rode, chanting “stay alive.”

Chapter 61: Cold Hands

Cullen found Lydia sitting outside, a steaming mug of hot apple cider Rosalie made wrapped in her hands.

Chapter 60: A Room

“You are wicked,” Cullen said as they climbed the stairs up from the tavern to their room, Lydia leading him.

Chapter 59: Tipsy 

At Skyhold Cullen existed in a permeant state of tiredness, hardly sleeping at night.

Chapter 58: Holiday 

“I am unsure about Bran.”

Chapter 57: Reacquainting

Come to South Reach, come to South Reach, Mia said.

Chapter 56: Possession 

It was early evening when they made it to the lake, his favorite spot from childhood.

Chapter 55: Muses

The last time Lydia saw her brother Aiden, she had only been eight years of age.

Chapter 54: Strangers

The horse master was a stubborn Fereldan man.

Chapter 53: Somedays

Tucked away in his loft the next morning, Cullen woke before Lydia.

Chapter 52: Quiet 

When Lydia emerged from the fade after the conclave and awoke in Haven’s dungeon, she was merely the prisoner.

Chapter 51: Portraiture

  “Lydia…”

that was 21, but 51 was where I continued the story from 2018 :D

I used to think you had to start a story in a really grand and epic way, (same thig with individual chapters but less so) but now I’m like “nah dude just start” so that’s what I’ve been doing--I like opening with dialigue the most I think because it you can immediately draw an interest. Chapter 71 opening is my favorite, also just really like the last one, just a nice subtle call of her name, IDK. 

tagging @ma-sulevin @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold @hollyand-writes  @dismalzelenka  @queen-kass-the-writer @kunstpause @

[sing-in-me-oh-muse]

Fanfiction Year in Review - 2020 by sagansjagger

Fanfiction Year in Review - 2020 by sagansjagger

Image credit,

Whoo, I love me some tumblr ask games! Thanks for the tag, @ladyofthenoodle!

1 List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

I am so sorry about this, but I'm just going to link my entire profile because I started writing MLB fic in April 2020 and ended up with 72 fics. If I listed and linked them all, I'd be here all day.

My works (ao3 link)

I suppose what I could do is list out statistics.

As of January 2nd, 2021, I have to my name:

72 total fics - 4 long fics, 1 drabble series, 67 one shots

7 series - Domestic Cavities (married life fluff), Sex Education: Kwami Style, She Was Certainly the Spark for All I've Done (Crash universe), Kiss the Viper (Vipermouse), CYOA: Life is What You Bake It (Choose Your Own Adventure stories), It’s the End of the World as We Know It (Chat Blanc), Bad Dad’s Club (Adult XY & Adrien friendship

16 gen, 12 Lukanette, 6 DJWifi, 4 Riceflour (Tom and Sabine), 3 Adrigami, and 47 Lovesquare. If the math doesn't add up in this it's because sometimes these are background pairings.

2 Number of words written:

463,044! 

3 Your most popular fic:

Definitely Welcome to the Scene of the Crash, my first fic in the fandom and the birth of the Spark series. This is a 63k monster that I wrote in six days, focusing on the effects of starvation on the body and mind. Crash has two sequels, And He’s Gotta be Fresh from the Fight and Into Your Heart, I’ll Beat Again, both of which are complete.  

4 Your personal fav:

Tough choice... I’d probably have to say Crash because it’s my baby. As I’ve said before, I woke up at 4:30am with a song in my head (Take Me to the Hospital by the Prodigy) and the first line: “Adrien was starving.” Crash is what started me writing for the fandom and how I made almost all my new friends here.

Image credit.

5 Your fav scene:

Oh, this is hard. I’ve actually written so much that I don’t recall all the scenes I’ve written? But I can say that I was so ready to write the last chapter of Heart. It’s tooth-rotting Christmas fluff that was Adrien and Marinette’s happy ending after 260k+ words of angst. That scene isn’t my favorite scene by far, but it was one of the most satisfying to write.

6 A fic or scene that challenged you:

Definitely Couffaine Coffee Conundrum, a Lukanette & Adrigami piece. My server anniversary giftee, Rikka, requested a fluffy double date with the pairings, but all my brain wanted to do was make it angsty. I had to write the fic twice.

7 A line of writing you’re proud of:

This is from my as of yet unpublished Sleeping Beauty AU (publication date: February 1st, 2021!). I’m proud of this line in particular because I don’t often write lines that are just... pretty. I nail body language, but most of my writing is straightforward and if not ugly, certainly not beautiful. 

Anyway, here’s the line:

Winter passed with one last, lingering gasp, the bony fingers of cold clinging to the days.

Image credit.

8 A comment that touched you:

I’ve gotten several comments that have touched me, but the most recent one was from a reader of Fight. They told me they liked my use of therapy in the fic and that they were considering getting therapy because they could see how much therapy had helped Adrien.

Another comment along the same lines was someone who realized that they’d been starving after reading the symptoms of starvation Adrien experienced in Crash. Being able to educate someone while entertaining them blows my mind.

9 Something that inspired your writing:

Definitely the good people on the Miraculous Fanworks Discord server, specifically @ladyofthenoodle​, @sseagully​, Rikka, and Sibby. I’ve developed so many stories because of those lovely ladies, and have received so much support and encouragement from the members of the server. One of my most popular recent fics, have the stars blotted out in a brilliant Morse code, started based on a discussion in the #writing-chat on that server, and @theladylu​ even drew some lovely fanart for it (featured below).

10 Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

Definitely finishing Heart. That happy ending was a long time in coming.

11. Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

Yes! I want to finish the second Choose Your Own Adventure story, a pre-reveal, post-relationship Adrienette fic focused on baking pies with Tom and Sabine. I also want to finish the Sleeping Beauty AU, which I’m on track for. Desperation would be a great fic to finish; I started that one, got to chapter 5, and quit because it was too sad, haha! And I’m working on an original work that started out as an Adrienette Witch AU titled Must Be the Season of the Witch that I’d like to finish sometime in the next six months.

Tagging @itsagrestebug​, @purpleflower04​, @torilovesmiraculous​, and @sseagully!

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 4

[Read on AO3] | [First Chapter] | [Next Chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: After some deliberation, Angel decides to take Alastor up on his offer of a contract, and with a very specific goal: to utterly ruin his father. What he's asking for is no small feat, but Alastor is ready to make his plan a reality. In fact, he's looking forward to it. Maybe not the best way to start a relationship, but not the worst either.

— — –

Alastor spent the next 72 hours waiting in that abandoned hotel downtown, hoping Angel would show up at some point. He didn’t even dare go back to the Dellarosa home in order to observe; he had promised that he would be waiting if Angel came looking, and so he would be. The place, it turned out, was every bit as empty as it seemed. During his stay, he wasn’t disturbed once—which gave him far too much time to think.

With every day that passed, he became more convinced that he had made a terrible mistake in revealing his nature to Angel. Maybe his being under the influence was the only thing that had kept him from panicking and fleeing that night when they spoke, and now that he was sober again, he wouldn’t risk going back. It was even possible that Cherri had spoken to him again and explained exactly who Alastor—the Radio Demon—was and how he operated. If that were the case, then surely all was lost; he had no shortage of damning stories in his past.

His illness didn’t let up in the slightest, particularly because he was spending so much time thinking about Angel. If he weren’t already dead, he might worry about how much blood he was losing. As things stood, he had more pressing things to concern himself with.

At the end of another idle afternoon of walking the halls and trying to divine what might have happened in each room, an hour or two before sunset, Alastor heard movement downstairs. Despite being on the tenth floor at the time, he was sensitive enough to auditory detail that he caught the sound nevertheless. He froze as he heard the front door creak open, followed by a few tentative steps and—his heartbeat stuttered—Angel’s voice calling his name.

Within seconds, he was back downstairs to find an apprehensive Angel standing at the hotel’s front desk. He was dressed differently this evening, dressed more like his sister than his brother, and he clutched Alastor’s coat in both hands. Trying his best for Suave & Charming, hoping to present himself more confidently this time, Alastor met him with a smile. “You called?”

“Hey!” Angel’s face lit up with relief. “I was afraid you’d be gone already. I wanted to come sooner, but my old man was hasslin’ me about my clothes, and I hate goin’ out like this”—he gestured in disgust to his outfit—“but I got tired of waiting, so. Uh, here I am. I’m really glad you’re still here. Is this where you live or somethin’?”

“No, but I said you could find me here, and I don’t like to go back on my word.”

The boy seemed much more lucid than in their prior conversation as he added, “Oh, I brought this back too.” He held out the coat, which Alastor accepted and shrugged back into. “I almost thought I dreamt you up as some kinda last ditch option to get away from my family. But I found that when I woke up, and then I talked to Cherri and she came clean about everything.”

“You two made up, then?”

“Oh, sure. She’s my best friend. Her bein’ dead wasn’t gonna change that. Besides, I get why she didn’t tell me. It ain’t exactly somethin’ ya lead a conversation with—well, you do, maybe.”

“Not typically,” Alastor chuckled. “In fact, I don’t often speak to humans at all. You’re an exception.”

Angel’s smile widened, and he ran his fingers through his hair. Somehow, despite having mentioned that he was less comfortable, his being forced to present as feminine didn’t seem to have dampened his confidence at all. He crossed his arms and shifted onto one hip as he answered, “Yeah, that’s kinda the impression I got. And I been thinkin’ a lot about that deal you mentioned before. Were you serious about that?”

Alastor tried his best not to let his hopes run away with him. “Of course. And what part of it, if you don’t mind my asking, have you been thinking about?”

“The whole thing. I feel like there is somethin’ I could use a hand with if you’re up to it. You got all this power, right? Said you can help me however I want?”

“That’s right. I doubt there’s anything you could ask for that I wouldn’t be able to accomplish.”

“Great. So you can help me run my old man’s business into the ground.”

That was hardly the request he’d expected. In fact, he could’ve guessed a hundred times without ever coming to that idea. “His business? That’s where you want to focus?”

“It’s pretty much the only thing he cares about. His pride and his money—and one’s tied to the other,” Angel explained, sounding every bit the shrewd businessman one in his position was expected to be. “Don’t think this is somethin’ I just came up with in the past couple days. I been thinkin’ about how to pull it off for years. Then you show up and say you can help me do it. That is what you’re sayin’, isn’t it?”

“I’ll admit it’s a tall order, but I can manage it,” Alastor assured him. “You’re saying you want to sabotage him?”

“Better,” the boy said with a grin. “I wanna outmatch him. I wanna put together a business of my own that puts his to shame. My own family.”

“I see. It sounds like this goal of yours has several parts to it.”

“But that’s no problem for you, right?” Angel argued innocently. He counted off on his fingers: “Make me a boss, help me build my family, eventually help me ruin everything my old man’s ever worked for. Easy.”

“And that would be worth trading your soul?” Alastor asked.

“You make that happen for me and I’ll give ya whatever you want,” the boy said with a wicked smirk, sending Alastor’s heart rate skyrocketing again.

“You’re sure?” With anyone else, he would call it a fair deal and settle it without further inquiry. But with Angel? He needed to be absolutely certain the boy wanted this before jumping into anything. The last thing he wanted was for Angel to later regret it and resent him.

“I told ya, I didn’t come up with this overnight. I’m just lucky I held off leavin’ home as long as I did.” The fire in Angel’s eyes burned away all teasing mirth, and he said firmly, “I’ve wanted this for years, Alastor. You’ve seen how he treats me, how they all treat me, and you said it yourself: it ain’t right. I’m sick and fuckin’ tired of it. Before you showed up, I figured my best bet to get away was marryin’ into some other family—but that ain’t what I want. I don’t wanna be some capo’s little fuckin’ wife and pretend I’m satisfied with that. I wanna be in charge of my own life. If that means givin’ up my soul, hell yeah, it’s worth it.”

It was that passion, possibly even that righteous anger, that had caught Alastor’s attention to begin with. If there were any one thing to be said about this boy, it was that every one of his feelings was powerful enough to move mountains. Powerful enough, evidently, to force an archdemon to develop some feelings of his own. How could Alastor be expected to stand against that? How could he be expected to resist?

The simplest answer was that he couldn’t.

“Then I’ll do my very best to serve you in the meantime,” he conceded, inclining his head.

“Serve me, huh?” Angel’s voice turned soft and smooth now that Alastor was no longer arguing with him. Running his fingers lightly along the demon’s chin to tilt his head up again, he added with a playful smile, “I like the sound of that. Does this mean you hafta do whatever I say?”

Probably not for the reason you think. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Alastor chided, pulling away from his touch if for no other reason than to maintain his focus on the subject at hand. “I can promise to support your goals to the best of my ability—and if on the off chance there is a problem my power can’t solve, I’ll do all I can to enable you to solve it instead.”

“And?” Angel prompted.

“I’ll use my influence to further your family and eliminate your enemies. Above all”—so help me God—“I’ll ensure you’re kept safe and respected.”

“And…?” The boy grinned, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

“And,” Alastor repeated, ready to rise to whatever challenge was being issued, “anything else you might ask of me. Say the word and it’s done.” Of course, for anyone else, that condition would be completely off the table, as he didn’t much care for being so thoroughly bound to someone else’s will—but in Angel’s case, he was already willing to do anything the boy asked; what harm was there in stipulating it as part of their contract?

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,” Angel answered, satisfied. “You do all that for me, and once I die, you can have my soul. Deal?” He offered his hand, and Alastor shook it firmly.

“Deal.” There was a familiar tingle of binding magic as the contract was sealed, forming a connection between the two that couldn’t be severed unless Alastor somehow failed to uphold his end of the bargain. He did not intend to fail. “First things first.” He summoned his staff and flicked it in Angel’s direction. The skirt and blouse Angel had earlier lamented transformed into something much more fitting: a navy suit, double-breasted and tailored to Angel’s measurements.

“Hey!” The boy jumped at the sudden shift, and Alastor conjured a full-length mirror so he could inspect himself. In clothing that fit both his body and his identity, he was, if possible, even more attractive.

“You know what they say. Dress for the job you want, not the job you have. I would say your hair could use a trim too, but for now…” With a flick of one hand, the Radio Demon produced a fedora to complete the look and offered it to Angel. Practically beaming with delight, the boy swept his hair back away from his face and placed the hat on his head, pulling the rim down slightly as he looked himself over from every angle.

“Not bad,” he cooed appreciatively. “Pops’d have a heart attack if he saw me like this.” That statement was made with great relish.

“As tempting as that is, it’s probably best if you don’t go back to his place. After all, he is your rival now,” Alastor pointed out.

“Obviously I don’t wanna go back, but we got a lot to do before I can move out. We don’t even have a place to work out of yet, and it’s not like we can stay here.”

Alastor tilted his head to one side. “Why not? I think this place would make for a fantastic headquarters. Plenty of room to accommodate guests and associates, a location right here in the middle of town, and quite a landmark to put your name on. Where else could be better?”

“But somebody’s gotta own the place. And whoever it is probably wouldn’t like us movin’ in without their okay,” Angel pointed out.

“Oh, just you leave that to me,” Alastor said with a wink. “Didn’t we discuss this already? If you want this building, it’s yours.”

“Hm.” The boy looked around, thoughtful. “We could make it work, I guess. It’s gonna take some time to get it cleaned up and ready to use, though.”

Alastor chuckled, shaking his head. “O ye of little faith.” He stamped the end of his staff into the ground, and the shadows responded immediately, swirling through the room to sweep away the dust, repair the damaged upholstery, restore the wiring in the walls and the chandelier overhead—whatever was needed to make the hotel functional again. The walls were papered deep red by no particular will of Alastor’s, but he didn’t bother changing it. It was rather striking, the way he saw it, and it fit nicely with the room’s dark wood furnishings. He watched the shadows disappear up the stairs and knew they would give the same treatment to every floor. Soon enough, all 1000+ rooms would be ready to use however Angel saw fit.

Angel watched the entire process with wide eyes, marveling at the sparkling crystal chandelier above them with his mouth hanging slightly open. This particular feat required much more power than Alastor typically bothered using in a single act, but the look of incredulity on the boy’s face and the smile that followed after made it completely worthwhile.

“All right,” Angel admitted. “I’m impressed.” Oh, you haven’t seen anything yet.

“Let’s see. Personal image: check. Location: check,” Alastor said, glancing around the newly-renovated lobby. Now that the room was properly lit, he could see just how grand it was. There were two elevators on either side; a mezzanine where he could see the makings of a lounge; and at the back of the room, a broad staircase that opened onto a landing, then curved on either side to lead to the upper level. Very picturesque. “Now all we need is a family to fill it.”

“Ya got that up your sleeve too?”

“In a manner of speaking; I know a few people I can call, at least.”

“People,” Angel repeated, “or demons?”

“Yes,” Alastor snickered. “Capable individuals, I assure you, and isn’t that what really matters? Now, who would you say is the most important part of a mafia family, next to the boss?”

“Consigliere,” Angel answered without a moment’s hesitation. “He’s the boss’s advisor, usually somebody that’s been in the business a while. He helps with finances, competition with other families, pretty much every aspect of runnin’ the show.”

“Hmm. A jack of all trades, then, someone with business sense and a head for strategy,” Alastor reasoned, considering his list of contacts to determine who might fit best into this position. Only one name came to mind.

With a clap of his hands, another demon manifested at the top of the stairs, a snakelike creature with iridescent black scales and gleaming golden accessories. She blinked as if mildly surprised, and her intense yellow eyes quickly fell on Alastor and Angel. With a patient smile, she shifted into an entirely human form, one with brown skin and sleek black hair bobbed at her shoulders. Tall, slender, clad in deep green slacks and a well-fitted blouse, she looked nothing if not professional.

“Alastor,” she purred with a slight hiss on the S, waltzing her way down the stairs as if this were a sort of mischief she had expected. Her heels clicked on the wood floor with every step. “It’s been a while. What are we doing here?”

“Nice to see you too, Venture,” the Radio Demon answered. Gesturing to Angel, he explained, “My charge is a soon-to-be crime lord and has need of a—well, my Italian is a little rusty; what was the word, Angel?”

“Consigliere,” the boy repeated, looking the new arrival up and down appraisingly.

“An advisor,” Alastor explained. “I could think of no better fit for that role than you. And you do owe me a favor or two, yes?”

“Wait, her?” Angel protested. “It can’t be her. She’s…” He gestured vaguely at her body, and Venture tossed her head back with a laugh.

“What? A woman?” Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she stood on one hip, holding herself with all the confidence one would expect of an Overlord. “I certainly am, pet, and the best damned businesswoman this side of the Nile.”

“Venture has been an entrepreneur for millennia,” Alastor explained. “Gender notwithstanding, you won’t find anyone better suited to the position.”

“Flatterer,” she chuckled.

“Guys in the business don’t respect women,” Angel insisted. “And they ain’t gonna respect me if I’m listenin’ to one.”

“Success speaks louder than appearances,” Venture said evenly. “My guidance can make you richer than Croesus, and I promise you, where money goes, respect follows.” She always has been persuasive. “Luckily for you, I don’t have anything more interesting in the works right now. I don’t mind sticking around—assuming you’ll have me, sweetness.” She gave Angel an expectant look, and he wrinkled his nose.

“Fine, but you’re gonna have to cut that condescending bullshit. No matter how much experience you have, as long as you’re here, I’m your boss. So if we’re gonna work together, you can’t be talkin’ down to me. Got it?” Well, he had certainly adjusted to the role of boss quickly! Alastor almost worried his insolence would lose them an ally, but Venture seemed more amused than offended.

“Feisty, isn’t he?” she said, stealing a glance at Alastor. Nevertheless, she bowed to Angel with a flourish. “Of course, sir, you’ll have my utmost respect at all times. Now, is this our first endeavor?” She shifted her attention to the room they were in, looking it over critically. “The color scheme is a bit obvious, but I’m sure I can make it work. Whoever did your decorating clearly has taste.”

“What, the hotel?” Angel asked, watching her stride over to the gleaming front desk to check out the space behind it. “I can see it as a front, but why bother actually runnin’ it?”

“The better question is why not,” Venture countered, digging a phone book out of one of the drawers. “It’s a source of income that wouldn’t require much oversight on your part, and having guests in and out regularly will help cover up any less, uh, legitimate dealings you want to do here. Little to lose, lots to gain.”

“But it ain’t the kinda business a respectable family runs,” Angel argued stubbornly, arms crossed. “There’s rules and traditions ya gotta take into account. My old man would never—” He stopped himself for a moment, likely realizing that something about his approach was off. “Actually, ya know what? Sure. Havin’ the place up and runnin’ is a smart move. You can get that started on your own?”

“Leave it to me, habiibii,” she agreed distractedly, waving a hand to conjure a rotary phone on the countertop. In moments, she was thoroughly engrossed in making calls, taking to the job like a fish to water and all but forgetting the room’s other two occupants.

“That’s how I wanna do things,” Angel decided, turning to Alastor again. “I’m gonna make this family the most successful one in the city, and I’m gonna do it by blowin’ all my old man’s rules to Hell.”

“Oh? That’s an unusual business model.”

“You said I can have anything I want,” he pointed out, raising his eyebrows, hands on his hips. “What I want is to prove all his bullshit principles and traditions are holdin’ him back, and to prove I can do his job better. And you’re gonna help me do it.” His tone brooked no argument, and indeed, Alastor offered none.

“I look forward to working with you, Don Dellarosa,” he replied—but Angel grimaced at the title.

“Ugh, no, that’s my old man. Besides, we can’t have two Dellarosa families in the same city. Ours is gonna need a different name.” He screwed up his face thoughtfully. “Any ideas?”

Biting his lower lip as he considered, curiously observing his new consigliere’s work, he exuded such potential, such determination. He had set a goal for himself (years ago, it seemed) and would achieve it whatever the cost—even if it meant his immortal soul. Conviction that powerful commanded respect. Alastor felt another cough coming on and struggled to hold it back, clearing his throat as an answer came to mind.

“Giardino,” he suggested, and Angel raised an eyebrow at him.

“‘S a little plain. Why that?”

Alastor shrugged and reasoned, “If your father’s family deals in roses, what clearer statement than to claim the entire garden for yourself?”

At this explanation, Angel’s lips split into a grin, and it was by sheer force of will that Alastor didn’t wince from the pain in his chest. “I like the way you think, Al. Angel Giardino… Kinda has a nice ring to it. We’ll need more than just the three of us, obviously—”

“Which I’ll take care of within a few days.”

“—but once we’re in business? The Giardinos are gonna run this city,” he said with absolute confidence, looking over the lobby that was now his domain. Knowing that all the satisfaction and anticipation on the boy’s face was his doing had Alastor’s heart racing with delight. Maybe this arrangement would turn out better than expected. Angel looked at him, expectant, excited, ready to move forward. “So? Whaddaya say we plant some fuckin’ flowers?”

Done and done, cher.

[frejahertziswritingthistime]

An education  Chapter 6

A/N: I’m both very sorry and very much grinning like a mad-man over the last chapter. I really loved writing it, and you guys seemed very happy I updated the story, but also very angry I left it on such a cliffhanger. I’m sorry! 

BUT luckily, I don’t have a life, so I’m here to update it! Without further ado, here’s the next chapter!

Remember, I always say yes to requests and feedback feeds the writer!

 MASTERLIST (MOBILE)

MASTERLIST (DESKTOP)

Missed something?

An education masterlist here

 Pairings: Dean x reader, Sam

Warnings: Language, (slight)angst, fluff

Chapter 6 Reality

July

 I groaned as I tried to sit up. Fucking goddamn demon. When Dean had found my flappy, bleeding ass, I was halfway to death. More than halfway, if I’m being totally honest, but I managed to have a very nice conversation with Death Himself – he wasn’t all bad. He gave me a cheeseburger, and told me that it wasn’t my time yet, but he thought I could use some R&R. I had whole-heartedly agreed to that part – here, in the small room with cheeseburgers, nothing had hurt. I was fine, no scars or stab wounds, but I wanted back – the thought of Dean and Sam struggling to keep me alive, gnawed at me. Death had smiled at me. He leaned in and whispered in my ear – I couldn’t remember what – and Death had smiled and snapped his fingers, and I had opened my eyes into a very bright light and a Dean’s voice screaming for Sam.

I had gotten it bad, they told me. I had lost a lot of blood (which I wasn’t that surprised to hear), the stab had punctured my lung and had nearly killed me (again, not surprising), and I had sprained my wrist and broken my right foot, when I struggled against the Demon. They had gotten to me just in time, and had driven back to the bunker, where Cass had been waiting. He couldn’t fix me all the way back to what I was, but he had healed my lung and stopped the bleeding, but his stolen grace wasn’t as powerful, as we needed to fix me right back up.   When I could talk, I had told them everything I knew: Demon’s name was Berith, he was one of the 72 demons of Solomon, they had wanted to birth new generations, and had tried through female humans – to protect their offspring, they had carved very ancient angel-wards into the stomach of the females. I didn’t know how many had survived. I didn’t know why I had survived.

Dean had barely heard what I told them, before he was halfway out the bunker to find the demon – Sam had stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and told him, I needed him here. He was right, of course, I really did need Dean right then. So, he had stayed, sitting by my bed, reading me stories (he had groaned and whined, when I asked him to read Harry Potter to me, but he had been enthralled with the story even more than I had been) and keeping me company.

Now, almost a month later, I still struggled t breathe right; my lung was healed, yes, but it felt as if it was scared so fill completely with air, so I was hissing more often than not. My wrist had healed just fine in two weeks, but my right foot was still struggling, my ankle wasn’t really up for the whole idea of putting weight on it. I was a little scared, it might never get right again. I hoppled around the bunker in search of the boys – Dean had stopped sleeping in a chair next to my bed a week ago, so I had woken up alone. So, here I was, hoppling down the long, winding corridors on one foot and a lung, that wheezed every time I drew breath. I grimaced as I turned a corner, because I accidentally put a bit too much weight on my foot, and I whimpered with pain. “Y/N?” Dean’s voice, full of worry and fear, sounded behind me. I closed my eyes and sighed happily. “Dean.” I smiled, as I turned around. Big hands caught me around my waist, before I was even halfway around. “Woah, easy there, tiger, you shouldn’t even be out of bed.” He grumbled. I rolled my eyes. He had been incredibly protective of me since I woke up, not letting me walk around on my own (barely letting me walk, actually) and if I did want out of bed, he had his big hands around me, almost carrying me everywhere. “Dean, I’m fine.” He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, I’m fine considering my state. I can walk around, you know:” I murmured as he scooped me up in his arms with a firm grip. “Yeah, well. I don’t think you should.” He grumbled back. “Where are we off to, Miss?” He smirked down at me. I sighed. “Kitchen. I’m hungry.” I mumbled back, letting my head rest against his chest. I could hear his heart pick up. I was weird to me, this new Dean – I still hadn’t gotten courage enough to ask him about what I overheard in my almost-dead-state. I was afraid of bursting a bubble, crossing a line – he might not have meant it, I had thought several times, but had been in the throes of fighting and just… Let his emotions run wild. I was curious, though, but I was afraid of his reaction. I don’t think he thought, that I had heard him, so he hadn’t brought it up either. he carried me from the corridor (where was I even?) and walked in silence, until we reached the kitchen. He sat me gingerly down on a chair and clasped his hands together. “What do you want?” He asked, and I snorted. “Sorry, are you going to cook?” I asked incredulously. He smiled, his eyes crinkling slightly in the corners. “Yup. Or you know, re-heat something.” He shrugged. “Dude, you can’t cook. You’ve literally burned pasta.” He glared at me. “That was one time, I was drunk, and I forgot to add water. No biggie.” He said annoyed. I laughed. “Just give me some food, Dean.” I said with a sigh, as I rubbed my ribs – sometimes I felt an imaginary stab from the scar, almost as if it remembered what had happened. He bent down to look in the fridge, and laughed triumphantly, holding a box of left-over Chinese up. “Chinese it is!” He quickly moved to the microwave, punched the start-button and the familiar whirring filled the room. “Hey, how are you? Really?” Deans asked with worried eyes. I glared at him. “I’m fine, Dean. Honestly, I am. I just want to gank the demon and that’s it.” I said slowly. He looked at me with disbelief radiating from his body, and he opened his mouth to say something, but the microwave beeped. He took the food with a grunt, sat it down in front of me, and sat himself down on a chair across the table. I wolfed down the left-overs as he stared at me. When I had finished, he smiled gently at me. “Can I go back to my room, now?” I asked in a small voice. He nodded, and I made a move to stand, but Dean was faster than lightning, and his warm hands wrapped around me again – and the ground disappeared under my feet. I grinned at him as he walked briskly back to my room and put me on the bed.

I looked at him. He looked a little awkward as he stood and fiddled with his hands – he didn’t like sure as to whether he should stay or go. He twisted his hands a little and looked everywhere but at me. I smiled a little smile. “Come here, you big dork.” I said and scooted over, making room for him on the bed. He grinned and sat down, leaning back slightly against the headboard and stared out into the room. I sighed and leaned back as well, sneaking a glance at Dean. For some reason, he looked nervous, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. I didn’t understand why. He had been in this room many times, we’d been sitting closer than this, we even cuddled on several occasions. This wasn’t something new to neither him or me, so I didn’t understand why he was acting like this. Silence invaded the room – I wasn’t going to be the one to start talking. I had learned that sometimes, when silence becomes too much, it makes people talk. Manipulation 101. It worked – Dean sighed and stole a glance at me, before turning his head straight again. “Listen, Y/N… Uhm… I’ve never asked, but I was wondering… What do you remember from that day?” He said quietly. I furrowed my brows at him. “What, besides the torture, demon-talk and the conversation with death?” I said sarcastically. He chuckled lightly and looked at me. “Yeah. Other than that.” His eyes glinting with something undecipherable. I sighed and closed my eyes. “You want to know, if I remember the things you told me, before I met death, don’t you?” I felt his body stiffen and heard his breath hitch in his throat. I cracked my eyes open and looked at him. His eyes were wide, staring down at me, and his hands were shaking a little – he looked terrified. “I guess so.” He said quietly. He sounded like a man, who had just gotten he death-sentence. I rolled my shoulders a bit and looked into his eyes. “I remember.” I said. “I remember every word you said. Oh, and for good measure, I also know it was a very big lie, when you told me about my picture in your bed.” He closed his eyes in defeat and groaned. He looked at me and his eyes were swimming. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, huh?” He said in a small voice. I nodded slowly. “I guess it is.” I mumbled. We sat in silence for a while, but then I heard Dean groan. “Listen, Y/N. I-uh… I’ve… I know this is fucking bad timing, okay? I know… I know I should’ve said something sooner. I know… I should have done a lot of things okay, and it’s too late. But… Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned in frustration. I was surprised – Dean was struggling, and I was in the dark as to why. I had no idea, what he wanted to say, but I kept silent – he would get to it eventually. “Okay.” He drew a deep breath and looked at me with wet eyes. “Okay. You’re in love with someone. I know that, and I don’t want to…” He exhaled deeply. “I figured out a while ago. Sam’s been bugging me to tell you, and I just… I didn’t have the guts. And then.. I woke up next to you and felt your breath on my neck, and I had to admit it to myself, and… And you came out from the bathroom looking so guilty, and I decided it was a bad Idea to tell you.” I had my eyes trained on his face, trying to figure out what the hell he was talking about. “And you… You got taken right from under me, and I saw you there, almost dead… I didn’t know what the hell to do, and I… I knew. I knew with absolute certainty, that I…” He looked at me eyes, searching for something – doubt, fear, I don’t know. “I knew that I was in love with you, Y/N. And it scared the shit out of me. It still does. It scares me, how much I love you. I have no idea how I’d ever live without you. And that’s terrifying.” I opened my mouth, tears spilling over my cheeks, but he held a hand out in front of me. “Please, let me say this, please.” I snapped my mouth shut. “I know this is fucking terrible of me to even tell you this, and I know it’s probably going to fuck up our friendship, and you’re in love with someone… I just… When I almost lost you, I knew I had to tell you if you ever woke up.” He sighed and closed his eyes. I suddenly remembered something, a fuzzy, hazy memory rising in my head – Death and his cryptic message. “Do you know, what death told me, when I was having a cozy take-away dinner with him? Dean looked surprised at my apparent shift in conversation and shook his head. “He told me, you’d kill him if I didn’t go back. That I needed to save you.” I said. Dean stared at me like I had grown another head. “I think I know what he meant now.” I whispered and turned my body towards him, my shaking hand slowly inching its way towards his face as my head moved closer to his. “You do?” He whispered, a feeling of intimacy slowly settling between us. The air felt like it was vibrating with anticipation. “I do.” I whispered. For a fraction of a second, I hesitated. What if this would force us onto a path, we had no idea how to walk? This would break every part of our friendship and stich it back together in different ways, we didn’t know how to handle. Then his lips touched mine with gentle hesitation.

I gasped into his lips, and a sudden urgency overtook me – I crashed my lips hard against his and he moaned against my lips, making my knees shake, and his big hand wrapped around the back of my neck, deepening the kiss. I reveled in the feeling of his soft, smooth lips moving in sync with mine – we were dancing, the two of us, a dance we’d never done before, but it was as if our bodies had been waiting for this moment, charging up for it, and now – now we were two pieces of a whole, something that none of us ever expected to be. His tongue danced over mine, teasingly and light but still with the air of fear and hesitation, almost as if he expected it to be a dream, something that could slip out of his hands at any moment. I tangled my hands in his short hair, pulling it lightly – he grunted against my lips and a hand grabbed my waist harshly, but not hard enough – I ignored the sharp sting of pain in my ankle, as I almost crawled on top of him. I could never be close enough, never taste and feel enough of him. He smiled against my lips, his hand leaving goosebumps on my skin, as his fingers traveled under my shirt to grab an even tighter hold of me. He couldn’t get enough either.

We disentangled slowly, small kisses peppering each other, and he rested his forehead against mine, our breathing labored. He opened his eyes and looked into mine; they were glowing, soft orbs of forests – a color, a place, I’ve never been to, but I knew so well. His eyes were home to me. He gasped a breath and a small trickle of tears ran down his cheek. I wiped it softly away with my thumb. “Did you know, what I used the picture for?” He asked in a whisper. I grinned at him. “I did. Did you know, who I was in love with?” I smiled. “I hoped I did. I guess my hope was right.” He answered.

 CHAPTER 7

TAGLIST: @hobby27, @trustnobodyshootfirst, @mypage-myfandoms

FOREVERLIST: @supernaturalmagicfolk , @redeyedvixen 

[carterashofficial]

Thanks, Aearyn

@aearyn was so unbelievably kind to tag me for this 

rules: answer these 85 questions and tag 20 people (ahaha no i wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy this took forever)

— what was your last…

1. drink: water. from the fridge. there might’ve been a dog hair in it because Scout and Abbey show their love through shedding. I didn’t care.  2. phone call: my old internship asking why I never got my w-2 form 3. text message: a coupon from World Market, if that counts. If not, i texted myself a spoiler for the kotfe fic so i don’t forget 4. song you listened to: Champion by Carrie Underwood b/c i love it and I NEED THE POSITIVITY   5. time you cried: UH... writing the kotfe fic. But i wasn’t actually crying. it was more like “im tearing up at this one scene b/c its breaking my heart”. Actual crying? been... so long i can’t remember.

— have you ever…

6. dated someone twice: ahahahhahahahahahaha.... ahahahhaha..... ahahahhahahahaha despite my best intentions, i’ve never dated anyone. I’ve been trying to change that. I want romance in my life. 7. kissed someone and regretted it: That would imply i’ve had my first kiss, and im 22 years old and still haven’t had it. APHRODITE WHY AM I SINGLE. I’M READY TO MINGLE 8. been cheated on: see above. Can’t be cheated on if you’ve never HAD A DATE 9. lost someone special: i would rather not consider this question, but Domino, Jewel, and my Grandma (all were very, very sudden and hit me like a bag of bricks).  10. been depressed: ha ha ha apparently i’ve had depression since i was 15. I was officially diagnoses in January of 2017 and have been on medication since. ahahaha  11. gotten drunk and thrown up: no I can barely get drunk even when i try, let alone enough for a damn hangover. Seriously. I can drink like Carmadda and not get drunk.

— fave colours

12. soft eggshell green 13. the blue at the edge of the horizon 14. metallic  anything

— in the last year have you…

15. made new friends: ........yes? i think? 16. fallen out of love: ahahahahaha no b/c i’ve never been in love (in the romantic sense and that’s how im taking this) 17. laughed until you cried: always 18. found out someone was talking about you: in the worst of ways 19. met someone who changed you: yes 20. found out who your friends are: oooooh yes 21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list: never been kisses

— general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl: all? how else do people find you on there? 23. do you have any pets: many. Scout, Abbey, the neon tetras (named the Heralds of Zildrog), my various shrimp, and Corypheus and Valkorian the golden inca snails  24. do you want to change your name: no, but i used to 25. what did you do for your last birthday: went bowling 26. what time did you wake up today: i woke up 3 times, once to Bug getting ready for school, then my mom asking if i opened the vitamins, then... i think 9 was when i finally crawled out 27. what were you doing at midnight last night: playing swtor or looking up some fresh and funky memes 28. what is something you can’t wait for: finished the next kotfe fic chapter and breaking everyone’s hearts. Or the next major expansion of SWTOR. I NEED ANOTHER CINEMATIC TRAILER LIKE GODDAMN 30. what are you listening to right now: nothing my house is silent and in the far, far distance, sometimes i can hear cars on the toll road 31. have you ever talked to a person named tom: i have an uncle named Tom. I have spoken with him. So Yes. 32. something that’s getting on your nerves: socialization. I can only take so much around others. If I was a Sim i’d have the lonely trait. 33. most visited website: Tumblr or my school’s student login page 34. hair colour: blonde/brown im really smack in-between and i just dye it lighter to make it blonde enough for me to be blonde 35. long or short hair: long. so long. down to my butt long                                   36. do you have a crush on someone: not sure. i like him, he’s funny and thinks im funny, and teases me back, but im shit at reading signs and far too much a coward to ask him out. I’m not sure. I had a major crush in high school that resulted in me falling in love with a guy but we never offically dated and then he crushed my heart. Long story. So i try to avoid crushes lest i break my heart again. 37. what do you like about yourself: bitch im fabulous 38. want any piercings: i got 3 in the lobes of each ear and cartilage in the left. If i get any more I think my mom would have a heart attack 39. blood type: ??????? no idea. I know my sister is O 40. nicknames: Milky (only drank milk as a kid, but this nickname has sorta phased away). Other nicknames give away my real name. But I do respond to my sister’s name. 41. relationship status: single and ready to flamingle 42. sign: Aquarius 43. pronouns: she/her 44. fave tv show: i literally can’t pick one b/c ive watched nearly every cop show on Netflix, including some that aren’t in english. All the cooking competitions i can find on Netflix and youtube, and im running out of TV to watch when i do art. Halp. 45. tattoos: Zero because my fatal fear is needles. 46. right or left handed: Left. left left left seriously i can.... maybe dip a french fry in ketchup with my right but that’s it 47: ever had surgery: wisdom teeth removed count? 48. piercings: 7 total in the ears and nothing else. 49. sport: I watch baseball and hockey (SPEAKING OF WHICH, GO DUCKS!). Used to play softball and some soccer. 50. vacation: if i can graduate a quarter early I want to go visit my family in florida and michigan 51. trainers: is... this british for shoes? i wear berkenstocks. only berkenstocks. because crocs are so comfortable but people judge. I also have hella wide feet where ever ‘wide’ shoes are too narrow. I can get by in Vans or my old old Nikes that i hardly ever wear

— more general

52. eating: whether or not if ketchup should go on it, ketchup is going on it. Unless if it’s breakfast food or desert. Breakfast food is my favorite and i could happily live off it it. 53. drinking: water, tea, juice, milk, Mike’s black cherry hard lemonade, monster energy drinks, RC Cola.... i drink a variety of things. Mostly water and tea. 54. i’m about to watch: i dont know I’VE RAN OUT OF THINGS TO WATCH ON NETFLIX 55. waiting for: myself to go out on a date and/or meet The Guy 56. want: many things. 57. get married: One day. 58. career: ssssssssttttttttttuuuuuuuuuudddddddeeeeeeennnnnnntttttttt

— which is better

59. hugs or kisses: i want both but maybe not from the same people. 60. lips or eyes: depends what each are doing tbh 61. shorter or taller: taller b/c im short and can’t reach the top shelf 62. older or younger: older but at this point im 22 and a lot of my classmates are 21 so like.... my generation. 63. nice arms or stomach: arms 64. hookup or relationships: relationships 65. troublemaker or hesitant: depends. like really depends. I’ll probalby go with troublemaker b/c they tend to be funny and on-the-spot and im a planner.

— have you ever

66. kissed a stranger: never kissed anyone..... ha ha ha 67. drank hard liquor: so yes. 68. turned someone down: ahahahhahahahaahaha haha ha. Actually yes I got asked to homecoming my senior year by this one dude who still gives me the creeps jsut tihnking about him. I politely said no. 69. sex on first date: never been on a date, never kissed anyone. Never ‘done the deed’. Would not do on the first date. 70: broken someone’s heart: uh my mom’s when I told her I had Depression and wanted to kill myself all throughout sophomore year highschool 71. had your heart broken: oh. Yes. 72. been arrested: no 73. cried when someone died: more like wailed loud enough that half the dorm floor heard 74. fallen for a friend: *side-eyes my sister* yeeees

— do you believe in

75. yourself: it varies over what. 76. miracles: I mean.... to an extent.  77. love at first sight: no 78. santa claus: I AM 22 YEARS OLD of course 79. angels: its complicated. my mom found a dead rat in our old house’s garage when i was 4-ish and all i remember crying for the dead rat when my dad tossed it in the garbage. My mom explained that an angel had already taken the rat’s soul to heaven. What did I picture the angel as? A carrot, wearing a tie, with mickey mouse-esque white gloves carrying a rat dramatically. This still haunts me.

— misc

80. eye colour: blue enough that you might drown in the ocean 81. best friend’s name: @athenascrown 82. favourite movie: if you think I can pick only one you’ve got another thing coming. but.... any star wars movie. If i had to pick one, Empire Strikes Back or Phantom Menace or The Last Jedi.... or Rogue One.... or Revenge of the Sith... 83. favourite actor: The guy who played the stormtrooper who hits his head on the door in Ep 4 84. favourite cartoon: the old Ducktales was a childhood favorite 85. favourite teacher’s name: I don’t want to put her name out here but she was my art teacher all through high school and she is one of the kindest souls ive ever met and if it wasn’t for her, i wouldn’t have gotten back into art

because this post took 5ever im not tagging anyone but if you want to do it, just say I tagged you and I’ll say i did