#sometimes things fall off of shelves when she passes by

[mymelodyisme]

Me: oh yeah mys’s odd thing is she talks out loud to herself and to objects

Everyone else: MAGIC ODDITIES

😭😭 I love y’all I wish I had thought of something less mundane ♥️

[nicksbestie]

hi!! if you’re still doing requests, can i have a chris sturniolo x autistic reader in which reader has a habit of misplacing or losing things, but on a particular she keeps consistently misplacing losing a lot of things that she loves or that she needs and it all results in her having a very bad meltdown in which chris helps calm her down and eventually comforts her in the process?

Meltdown - C. Sturniolo

Summary : You're so lucky to have such a caring boyfriend who knows exactly how to help you in moments of distress <3

Warnings : Meltdown, emotional overwhelm

Word Count : 805

Pairing : Chris Sturniolo/Reader (romantic)

A/N : i loved this req!! neurodivergent reqs are amazing, please keep sending them <3 reminder that ableism is not welcome here!

There were a lot of tendencies that you loved about being neurodivergent, and a lot of the time, you didn’t view yourself as any less than the average person, but there were always a couple traits that really frustrated you when it came to living as an autistic person.

You hated losing things. Not knowing where things were made you very anxious, but unfortunately, you couldn’t seem to stop doing it. No matter where you placed things, or how many times you reminded yourself that they were there, you always managed to end up losing them. 

It was like your brain just blocked out the part where you moved them to a different location, or when someone else told you that they’d put them somewhere else, and you couldn’t find them for hours after that. It often caused you incredible frustration, especially if you’d lost more than one thing at once, and sometimes fueled you to the point of tears. You hated how much this happened to you, but you had no idea how to go about fixing it in any way. Luckily, you were very supported by your boyfriend, who was always good at finding things. 

A lot of the time, he had been the one that moved the lost items, or the one that had seen you move them, and kept a mental note of where they were because he knew you would more likely than not, forget where they had been placed. He had quickly become an expert in keeping those situations from escalating into meltdowns, but sometimes you were just so upset about not being able to find important things that there was nothing he could do except help you find them and just comfort you the best that he could. 

Unfortunately, one of those times was today. You had gone out to run errands, and Chris had come with you, even though it was just a grocery store trip. He often came with you, picking out a bunch of random food for both him and his brothers, some for videos, some just for fun. Because of this, he often wandered into different aisles than the one that you were in, thus going out of your sight. However, you had always remembered what aisle he was in, and he had always texted it to you just in case you forgot. But this time was different. 

Chris had walked away to go to the bathroom, leaving you standing by yourself while picking out the things you needed from that aisle. You weren’t concerned, he had done this before, and always came right back, so you kept moving, grabbing things off of the shelves and putting them into your cart before turning into the next aisle over. Time continued to pass and you tried to brush off the anxiety that was beginning to roll in, but after fifteen minutes and no return of your boyfriend, you couldn’t help the freaking out that was going through your mind. You began taking longer breaths, trying to relax, and moving through the aisles around you to find Chris, but when you had gone through four of them and couldn’t see him anywhere, you couldn’t deny the tears filling your waterline. 

Chris was arguably the most important thing in your life, and the feeling that you had lost him was too much for you to handle at any point in life. He wasn’t responding to your text asking where he was, and this only fueled the anxiety even more. The tears in your eyes had started falling by this point, still moving between aisles and hoping to see his familiar figure. 

Chris had no idea that you were panicking. His phone had died while he was in the bathroom, and he had gotten distracted looking at some of the weird flavors of donuts and Oreos he’d seen on a small stand. It wasn’t until he heard soft crying near him that he realized what had happened, and immediately ripped himself away from the display, turning around to see you wandering between aisles, wasting no time in getting to you and pulling you into a hug. 

Feeling the way that your shoulders shook against his body broke his heart, realizing the effects of what he’d done, despite it being unintentional. He whispered comfort to you, not caring about the people that had slowed down their walking to stare at the couple having a moment in the middle of the bread aisle, only focused on you. Apologies flew through the air along with promises to never leave you, and he refused to let go of you. He led the rest of the grocery trip, getting everything you needed for you, pausing every so often to wipe tears off of your face or to kiss the top of your head.

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[boldlyvoid]

I Can See You | Part Two

18+ Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader | Part One

Summary: While away in California working on a case, Aaron needs his Media Liaison's help. When she gets there, she realizes that being in the field is a lot harder than she ever imagined... she leans on Aaron for support so much that when they get home, their relationship is so different from when she left.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (case involving rape and murder) flirting, falling in love, emotional heart-to-heart chats, car sex, public sex, angst, miss understandings. love confessions. making love, unprotected sex, creampies, dirty talk

a/n: thank you @hotchsdoormat for making this post and giving me an idea for this one <;3

word count: 9.1k

Facilities management gets her office completely cleaned out by the end of shift on Friday, they turn the phone in that room back on and set it to her extension. They get a nameplate for her door and slide it into place and then the room is officially hers. 

She sits down at her new desk with a sigh. It smells like paper and dust, the shelves are empty, and it lacks character. She’s requested new, more natural lights, but she knows that changing the fluorescents from blue to yellow is still going to give her a headache. She asked for her own fax machine and this weekend she has to clear out the filing cabinet in order to reorganize it with updated cases. She’s going to have her hands full but that’s good.

Maybe keeping busy will keep her mind off Aaron Hotchner and all the amazing sex she’s been having with him. 

She thinks about him all the way home, in bed before she goes to sleep and even when she wakes up early on Saturday. She makes her way back to the office, it’s only Anderson, a couple of the assistants and herself that are in. She can’t pass Aaron’s office without thinking about how intense her orgasm on his desk was… but she makes it to her own desk with a sigh. 

She’s sitting for maybe 30 seconds when the phone rings. “Agent Y/L/N.” 

“How fast can you be in California?” Aaron asks. “I need you here.” 

“Oh, why?” She can’t help but smile. 

“JJ and Kate are interviewing all the women so that they feel safer and more comfortable but with JJ busy I don’t have anyone here who can speak with the reporters and the Colleges PR people,” he explains. “I really need you here.”

“Uh, yeah, I can come… get Penelope to find me the best ticket out there and I can be at the airport within the hour.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a sigh of relief. “Text me when you get there, let me know when you’re on your way and when you land. I want to know you’re safe.” 

His voice is soft and quiet, he might be alone or at least not around the main team. She loves this voice, he’s so sweet with her sometimes it makes her melt.

“I will,” she smiles. “i’ll see you then.” 

“Bye,” he says before he hangs up. And then he’s gone. 

She brought her go bag home with her last night, repacked it with better outfits and cuter underwear and brought it back to the office with her. This was the last thing she expected when she packed it. She grabs it and her tablet, she has her phone and records an away message for her office phone before she heads out of her office. 

“Anderson,” she calls, getting his attention. “I’m headed to California to help with the media frenzy, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Can you make sure that everything that’s faxed to me gets filed and organized and left on my desk?” 

“Absolutely, have fun,” he says with a roll of his eyes, knowing she’s going to be stressed out more than anything. 

“Can you drive me to the airport?” She asks. 

“I can, I’ll meet you in the garage in 5.” 

She heads right down to Penelope's office and knocks gently before entering. “Did hotch call?” 

“He did, I have your boarding pass here,” she says, reaching to the printer and pulling the paper out as it finishes printing. “This is your fist away case, isn’t it.” 

She nods, “any advice?” 

“Take a moment to yourself whenever you can. It’ll get overwhelming and seeing the horror upfront will suck, so, maybe take this,” Penelope explains, looking through all her little gadgets and toys, she finally picks a little pink unicorn with a clip on it. She reaches out and clips it right onto her go bag. “She’ll keep you company.” 

“Thank you,” she does genuinely appreciate it. 

“The plane leaves in an hour and 45 minutes, I called ahead and said you’re a federal agent and It’s imperative that you make this flight even though you’ll be there in the middle of boarding and they will hold the plane as long as they can for you, so you better skedaddle,” she explains. “Go on, boss lady.” 

“Okay, okay,” she laughs, “I’m going, I’ll probably talk to you later!” 

And with that, she’s gone. Anderson drives her to the airport, she texts Hotch from the car and when she arrives at Ronald Reagan National Airport a half hour later. She still has an hour to spare before taking off, the staff are all incredibly kind to her and she’s handed some complimentary snacks and water at her seat. 

It takes 5 and a half hours for them to fly all the way across the county. She’s on her phone the second she de-boards the plane, she’s about to text Aaron to say she’s arrived when she looks up at the gate and see’s him.

“Hey,” she swoons, she can’t believe he’s there to pick her up. 

“Hi,” he opens his arms and she gladly hugs him. “Garcia told me when you’d be landing and I wasn’t about to let you take another taxi to work.”

She just holds him tighter, appreciating how he smells and how strong he is, she sighs as she pulls back. “I don’t mind… but I’m glad you’re here.” 

He reaches out for her bag, offering to carry it to the car for her. “We’ve got to get back to the precinct. We have a lot to go over, the media is already catching on to this being the second college rape and murder, we need to figure out a way to break the story without causing panic,” he explains as they weasel through the airport traffic, towards his car. 

“I had some time on the plane, I’ve drafted a press release I just need you and the team to approve it and I’m going to send each of the colleges our profile so they can put it on their websites,” she explains. “Who do you want going in front of the cameras?” 

“We can do it together,” he suggests. 

His SUV is parked out front, the lights still going so that he doesn’t get a ticket, he opens the door for her first and then the second door on the passenger side. He puts her bag behind her seat and shuts the door at the same time she shuts her own. He rushes over to the driver's side and gets in quickly, he fastens his seatbelt and keeps the lights on so he can rush out with traffic as fast as possible. 

“You passed your weapons qualifications, right?” He asks, unable to remember off the top of his head. 

“I have… but I don’t carry a weapon.” 

He sighs, “I’m going to give you my second gun when we arrive, I need you to protect yourself. Once we put you on the news you could become one of his targets.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“Unfortunately, you’re around his age preference and you’re beautiful, he’s going to be upset hearing the words you use to describe him to the world and he could lash out,” he explains. 

“Do you keep a second gun in your bag or something?” She asks, having no idea he even had one. 

He smirks, “No, I keep it holstered to my ankle. It’s discreet in case I’m in a situation where they’ve taken my weapon and haven’t patted me down, or when I’ve had my Glock knocked out of my hand. I like to be prepared.” 

“God, you’re so hot,” she says under her voice, shaking her head slightly. 

He laughs, “if you say so.” 

“Aaron,” she can’t believe he doesn’t think he’s hot. “You’ve gotta know you’re one of the most handsome men on earth, I mean come on?” 

He blushes, “I don’t have terrible self-esteem, but I’m also not full of myself.” 

“I’m sure as hell not full of you right now, either, but I still think you’re hot,” she teases. 

He laughs, reaching over he places his hand on her thigh, “You’ll be full of me soon enough, sweet thing. We just have to finish this case, first.” 

“They’re going to catch on,” she reminds him. “We have to be careful.” 

“Even if they figure it out, they won’t say anything unless I bring it up first. They’re still pretty respectful,” he assures her. “But I think we can keep it a secret a while longer.” 

“I hope so, 'cause this is fun.” 

“You think so?” 

“I really do,” she smiles at him. She takes ahold of his hand, interlocking their fingers, appreciating this little amount of affection before they arrive and have to act professionally again. 

—

She goes on national TV at 6pm with Aaron by her side while the rest of the team delivers the profile to the local cops. She’s nervous, but she gets through it without a stutter and she even answers a few reporter's questions. They expect the unsub to see the new reports and act out, either by killing again or by sending them a taunt. Either way, it’s going to be an interesting night. 

They get dinner as a team, enjoying takeout in the back room of the UC Davis police department, and she feels like she made it. When she joined the FBI she always wanted to see some action, she wanted to help in a real way and now she was getting her chance. She reviews the case with them, she gets to help Spencer organize the murder board and she even gets to put in her two cents about who she thinks this guy is. The team is proud of her, they praise her contributions and pat her on the back for a job well done with the media. 

The only hard part is seeing all the gore. The photos of the two dead girls are hard to look at, and the rape kit photos of the other 4 girls are even harder to see. They have to live with this for the rest of their lives… all of them are in the police station, too, all waiting for this to be over. They have 4 cots set up, and a police officer sat outside of the room at all times. They’re as protected as can be now, but not when it would’ve counted. It breaks her heart. 

By the time it hits 11pm, nothing has happened, everyone is tired because it’s 2 in the morning back in D.C. so Aaron calls it, “Let's head back to the hotel, they’ll call us if anything happens.” 

“Sounds good,” Derek is the first to agree. 

They all head out to the parking lot, splitting up to ride in two separate SUVs, she sits behind Aaron's seat because of course she’d want to ride with him but she’s not important enough to call shotgun. Spencer’s sitting beside him, tired and quiet, and JJ is beside her. Derek, Kate and Rossi are in the other SUV, just behind them. 

“Do we have another hotel for Y/N?” JJ asks. 

“I called the hotel and had my room switched to a double queen,” Aaron announces. “I thought it would be easier this way, now the bureau won’t get mad at us for changing another $400 to the credit card.” 

It doesn’t look that weird either, with JJ sharing with Kate, Derek sharing with Spencer and the leaders normally alone, partnering with Hotch isn’t too suspicious. She wonders if it’s even true, if he switched the rooms to have two beds or if that’s just what he’s telling people. Either way, they’ll probably end up sleeping in just the one. 

“Smart thinking,” JJ praises him. “I hope you don’t mind his snoring.” 

Y/N laughs, “I’m used to it— my ex snored a lot. Like so bad we took him to get a sleep study done to see if he had sleep apnea or something? But he didn’t, he just snored like mad. It was annoying,” she quickly makes up a story. Covering for the fact she’s already slept beside Hotch before, she heard his snoring. She didn’t mind it, she actually found it cute. But JJ didn’t need to know that.” 

“If you were still with him I’d suggest mouth taping,” Spencer suggests. “I’ve been reading studies about it, apparently it works.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind if I see another dude who snores, thanks.” 

“No problem,” Spencer says with a smile. 

It doesn’t take long for them to arrive, they park, grab their bags and all head inside. Y/N and Aaron head over to the main desk to switch room keys and the others head on up to their floor. The teams on floor 3, Y/N and Aaron on the other hand, they’re on floor 6. It was the only double queen that was available. 

They head to their room quickly, she’s actually exhausted and ready to sleep even if they were joking earlier about having sex again. And if she’s being honest… she’s a little too sad to do anything tonight. 

He opens the door for them, lets her inside and she places her bag right down on the closest mattress. She sighs as she undoes the zip and searches for her sleep shirt. 

“You tired?” Aaron asks. 

She nods, placing her shirt on the bed, she kicks off her shoes and starts to undress. “I’m so ready to go to sleep.” 

Aaron places his bag down on the other bed, also searching for something to wear but he turns back to her just in time to see her take her shirt off. He smiles at her, she’s just in normal underwear this time, nothing too fancy and cute because she didn’t expect to see him today. “You’re beautiful.” 

She can’t help but smile, “Thanks…” She tosses on her sleep shirt and takes her bra off from inside the shirt. She unclips the back, slips it off both arms and then pulls it out from under, putting it into her bag right away. She pushes her skirt down, takes off her nylons and shoves them in the bag too. 

Once she’s done changing, she grabs her makeup bag and heads into the bathroom to take off all her makeup. Aaron shows up beside her, in just his boxers and a shirt as well, ready to brush his teeth for the night. They get ready for bed silently, both clearly exhausted. He finishes brushing his teeth and watches as she takes off her makeup and applies her nighttime moisturizer, mesmerized by her beauty, he smiles at her through the mirror. 

“did you want to sleep with me?” 

“Like sex?” 

He laughs, “No, I mean do you want to sleep beside me?” 

“Oh, yeah, I’d like that… but I’m not in the mood at all after everything today.”

“Understandable,” he wraps his arm around her and rests his chin on her shoulder, staring at her through the mirror still. “You did a wonderful job today.” 

“Thank you,” she leans into him with a sigh. “can we go to bed now?” 

“Yeah, come on,” he takes her by the hand and walks with her back to the room. “Pick a bed.” 

She picks the one closer to the window, gets in on her normal side and lays back against the pillow. Aaron takes a moment to plug in his phone, moves his bag over to their spare bed and then he turns off the lights. He gets into bed beside her and snuggles in real close, resting his cheek on her chest and his arm slung around her stomach. 

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispers. “I slept like a baby on Thursday night.” 

“I know, I did too, I didn’t even hear you leave…”

“I’m sorry about that,” he apologizes again. “I had to be there when Jack woke up 'cause Jess had an early morning meeting with her boss, I kissed you before I left but you didn’t even stir.” 

Her heart melts at the thought of him kissing before slipping out, they had such a wonderful night that night, it’s hard to believe it was even real. “Hey, you’re a good dad. I’m never going to get upset with you for wanting to spend time with your son. I bet he’s incredible, too.” 

“He is, he’s doing this summer gifted program and at the end, he’ll have a certificate that he can put in his college applications, he wants to be an engineer,” he shares, pride just spilling out of him. “He’s so amazing.” 

“He gets it from his dad,” she teases. 

“It’s his mom's side, Haley was always good with science and math, her sister Jess is a computer engineer, and their mom was a nurse for 50 years,” he shares. He’s never opened up like this before. 

“What did your parents do?” She asks, taking advantage of how soft and honest he is late at night, she wants to know all about him. 

“My mom stayed at home with us and took care of the house, my dad was a defence attorney. He was good at telling a lie.”

“Oh,” she can tell there’s issues there. “And you have a brother, right?” 

He nods, “Same dad, different moms, but my mom raised him. My dad got his assistant pregnant and she was going to give the baby up so my dad convinced her to let us keep him.” 

“Wow… that’s intense.” 

He just sighs, “Yeah, it sucked being related to him.” 

“I’m sorry—

“No, no, you don’t have to be, it’s been a long time since he died, I’m not haunted by him or anything, I’m good with where I’m at in life… but you, you’ve never told me why you joined the FBI, or really anything personal?”

“There’s not really much to tell. I went to college and got a degree in criminal justice and took media and communications for fun and then applied to the academy and somehow made it to your team. I guess I’m just lucky,” she shrugs, not thinking too much of it. 

“Your grades were amazing and you were in the top 5 of your class at the academy, it certainly wasn’t luck,” he assures her. “You were the best pick for the team, Cruz was so excited to add you after he saw your application. We were severely lacking without a communications liaison, having you on the team has been so nice… and not just because we’re sleeping together.”

She laughs, “This is a bonus.” 

He sits up slightly to look at her in the darkness, “I think you were right before… about me being lonely. I didn’t realize how much I missed this.” 

She leans in and captures his lips against her own, sharing a sweet kiss with him. “I’m glad you did something about it. I thought with your job, with how often you see power dynamics gone wrong, you would never sleep with a younger co-worker.” 

“I didn’t think I would either,” he admits. He rests his head back down on her, caressing his cheek along her shirt. “It's not because you’re younger that I like you… I can’t even really place why I do. I don’t want to sound crazy, but something more powerful than your looks or your age drew me in. You’re so smart, you’re incredibly kind. This just feels right, doesn’t it?” 

“Aaron Hotchner, don’t make me cry,” she tries to make a joke or else she really will cry. 

“Sorry, I just hope you know this isn’t just a fling. I’m not going to get what I want and toss you aside. I thoroughly enjoy your company, if I met you anywhere else, I’d still want to be with you. It’s just tough when I’m your boss and you’re my employee. If you weren’t, I wouldn’t have asked to keep this a secret. I don’t want you to think I’m ashamed or hiding you. I just want to keep this as pure and just between us as possible. If I file the paperwork and we make it known with Cruz, then Penelope will see it in the file, and she’ll tell Derek and you know how they are. They teased you because I was careless and left a mark where they could see. I don’t want you to go through that. I don’t want people to think you’re doing better than them just because we have sex. I don’t want anyone to diminish your work simply because you’re close to me.” 

“The fact that you care, like genuinely, wholeheartedly care, means a lot. Not a lot of men would think this far ahead or want to protect their mistress,” she hates to use the word, but that’s how she feels. “I know I’m special to you and to this team… and it feels so good to know that. It’s all I wanted for so long, I have tried so hard to be good at everything I do, I try too hard sometimes. It feels so wonderful to know I’m appreciated for my hard work.” 

“you’re not my mistress,” he says, rolling onto his back and pulling her over to cuddle into him instead. “I’d have to have a wife for that.” 

She wants to ask what they are then. But she can’t bring the words to her mouth, they stay in her mind, rattling around and wreaking havoc. “Still, thank you.” 

He kisses the top of her head, resting his lips there longer than she thought he would. He runs his hand up and down her back in a gentle motion, soothing her. “You’re welcome.” 

He’s so warm and delicate with his touches, it makes her even sleepier. Her eyes get heavy to the point she can’t keep them open anymore, and before she knows it, she’s sound asleep against his chest. She twitches a few times as she falls deeper, her breathing changes, and she gets heavier, too. 

He knows she’s asleep now. Knows she can’t hear him. So he says it. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart… I love you.” 

—

Neither one of them set an alarm last night before bed. So, at 7:30am, someone knocks on their hotel door. They’re cuddled into each other, spooning, facing the window when Aaron hears it. He’s quick to rub his eyes and get out of bed, heading towards the door. He squints as he looks through the peephole to see Spencer, fully dressed and ready for the day. 

“Did something happen?” 

Spencer looks at him and then into the room to see Y/N sound asleep in her bed… but the other bed hasn’t been slept in. Not a crease to be found on the comforter, his eyes go wide but he keeps this newfound revelation to himself. “Uh, yeah, it’s almost 10 in Virginia, Penelope got a CODIS match on a set of fingerprints we picked up at the last murder, the guy's name is Michael Hawthorn, we’re just waiting on warrants to go through the courts. We’re supposed to meet with the state police in 45 minutes about it all.”

“Shit,” Aaron realizes they’ve slept in, “okay, you all can head in with Derek, Y/N and I will be leaving in a few minutes.” 

“Sounds good…” 

“Don’t,” Aaron points at him. “It’s not what it looks like. She was having a hard time dealing with guilt after speaking with the victims yesterday, I offered her some comfort, and we fell asleep in the same bed. Nothing more.” 

“Okay,” Spencer takes his word for it. “I’ll keep this between us… just be glad it was me who drew the short straw to come up and get you.” 

“Thank you, Reid,” he gives him a small smile. “Seriously, we’ll be leaving shortly.” 

She wakes up to all the talking, she sits up and rubs her eyes just as Aaron closes the door again, “what’s going on?” 

“We never set an alarm,” he simplifies it. “The team is headed to the precinct right now, they have a CODIS match on a fingerprint.” 

“Oh, shit, okay,” she gets out of bed quickly and grabs her bag, “can I use the bathroom first?” 

“Go for it,” he doesn’t mind, heading into his own go bag to get ready for the day. 

He wears the same suit pants and jacket, he gets a new dress shirt and tie from his bag and quickly puts it all on. He adds deodorant and a little cologne, he combs his hair and waits for the bathroom to be free again so he can brush his teeth. He holsters his gun to his belt last and checks his pocket to make sure he still has his wallet, badge and cuffs on his person. 

When she comes out, she’s in a pants suit as well, his gun holstered to her hip and everything. She looks amazing. He looks her up and down quickly, wishing they had more time so he could properly show he how much he likes this outfit, but they don’t. “Wow…” 

“Oh, hush,” she says with a smile, clearly appreciative. “Finish getting ready, I’m going to head downstairs and get us some coffee from the continental breakfast and I’ll meet you by the car.” 

She goes to walk by him but he stops her, pulling her in by her suit jacket until their chests touch, he takes her jaw in his hand and directs her attention to his eyes. “If I don’t get a chance to tell you again today, just know I think you’re beautiful.” 

He leans in and kisses her, too. She pulls away with a smile, she’s never kissed him with 2 days of scruff on his face, before, so it tickles her upper lip. “Go finish getting ready, the faster we get this guy, the faster we can go home and spend some time together…” 

“Okay,” he agrees but steals one last kiss, he lightly smacks her ass as she starts to walk away, “I’m going to show you what this little number does to me when we get home.” 

She just laughs, “Oh, I can’t wait… but we have a killer to catch, so chop-chop.” She grabs her bags and heads out after that. 

He’s quick to brush his teeth, check himself in the mirror and then he’s out too, barely 5 minutes behind her. He rushes down to the car, only to see Y/N has dropped her bags and the coffee, she’s got someone at gunpoint beside the car.

He drops his bag too, raising his go as he makes his way closer. “What’s going on?” 

“It’s the college rapist,” she says through gritted teeth. “I know those eyes from the drawing. He was waiting here by the car, he—

“I just wanted to ask for your number, you’re pretty!” The guy cuts her off, hands in the air, he looks scared. “I’m not a rapist!” 

“What’s your name?” Aaron asks. 

“Mike!”

“Mike what?” He asks again, getting closer and lowering his weapon so the man trusts him a bit. 

“Michael Hawthorn,” he states his full name. “I promise, I was just walking to my own car, thought she looked pretty, that’s all man.” 

He knows he’s lying. He knows this is the man the team is currently looking for. Maybe sleeping in was a good thing. Giving Y/N his second gun was even better. He can’t believe she recognized his eyes from the sketch of the unsub. She was quick to draw her gun, quick to defend herself, too. 

Aaron drops his gun, reaches out for the guy and gives him a fake smile, “I get it…” and then he has him pinned to the SUV and starts to cuff him. “But, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you? With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me any further?” 

“I didn’t do anything!!” 

“Call Morgan,” he says to Y/N, “tell him we have Michael Hawthorn in custody.” 

“Aaron… we don’t have enough evidence,” she worries, holstering her gun again. 

“We do. That CODIS match that Penelope got this morning, the fingerprints matched a Michael Hawthorn. They’re about to issue a warrant for your arrest, anyway,” he explains. “You just couldn’t handle the fact that she went on the national news and started talking shit about you, could you? You’re such a weak little man you have to rape girls to feel control. You have to corner them in a parking lot to feel the power. You’re just a loser and you’re going to prison.” 

Y/N steps away and takes her phone out, she calls Derek right away and tells him everything. Hotch still has him pinned to the SUV, waiting for the inevitable slue of cop cars to come rushing to the scene, to take this man into their custody. 

Michael knows he fucked up. He got cocky, he thought he couldn’t get caught but here he is, cuffed and pinned to a fed’s SUV. “What were you even planning to do? Just talk to me?” 

“I’m not speaking without my lawyer,” he says. It’s probably the smartest decision he’s made today. 

“Derek said they are just waiting on the judge to pass the search warrant, it should happen in the next few minutes. That includes his car, which I imagine is here?” She explains. 

Hotch pats him down and finds his keys in his pocket. He hands them over to her. “When it goes through you can have the honours.” 

It doesn’t take long for them to hear the sirens approaching, and once they’re heard, they’re seen just as quickly. 4 cop cars and Derek's SUV come whipping around the corner and into the small hotel parking lot, surrounding them. They hand the unsub off to the police, Aaron advises them that he’s already been read his rights and they take him off to the jail to be booked. 

“how’d this happen?” Derek asks. 

“I came down to get us some coffee before we head out and he was waiting for me, he walked up to me and said ‘You’re just as pretty as you are on TV’ and I saw his eyes were just like the sketch that Amy drew, so I pulled my weapon and luckily Aaron was right behind me and was able to get his name and cuff him,” she explains. 

“if it wasn’t for Spencer telling me the guy's name, I would’ve just told him to fuck off,” Aaron adds.

“Why were you guys late to begin with?” JJ asks, it’s honestly unheard of for Hotch to be late. 

“We were talking when I was getting ready for bed and I never set an alarm,” he admits. 

“I was having a hard time sleeping knowing I get to live the rest of my life without the trauma these girls will have for the rest of their life,” she adds. It’s more than she told Aaron yesterday, but it’s the most believable because it’s true. 

Derek pulls her in for a side hug, “This job sucks sometimes but you saved a few more girls from going through it with your quick thinking… I didn’t even know you carried a gun?” 

“It’s Aarons…” she explains as she pulls away, referencing the small revolver at her hip. “He had a feeling this guy would see me on the news and contact me. He was right.” 

“He’s hardly ever wrong,” Kate teases. Having been on the team just a few months now, she knows everyone on the team is so good at their job, they could’ve all predicted this. 

Once the warrants go through, Y/N and Aaron check the unsubs car and the others head back to his house. She finds his rape kit but nothing else. “His souvenirs must be back at his apartment,” Y/N sighs, shaking her head. “I can’t believe how fast you got him pinned to the car?” 

“Why?” Aaron smirks. “You know I’m always going to protect you, right?” 

She nods, stepping in closer to him so none of the crime scene cops hear, “Yeah, I know… but it was hot. Like, really hot…” 

He takes off his plastic gloves and looks over to the cops, “are you guys good here without us?” 

“Yep, we’re basically done, we just need to take some photos and get his car towed,” the main detective explains. “Thanks for bringing him in, the colleges are going to be pleased to know their girls are a bit safer now.” 

“Anytime,” Hotch waves them off and has Y/N follow him back over to the SUV. 

She gets buckled into the passage side, watches him put on his seatbelt and throws the car in reverse, he peels out of the parking lot and she thinks they’re going to catch up with the others at the unsubs house… instead, he takes them down some random street and parks them in the ally behind an unoccupied storefront. “How hot?” 

“What?” She laughs. 

“How hot was me throwing that guy up against the SUV and cuffing him?” 

Heat rushes through her body as she realizes what’s happening, “Aaron…” 

“Answer me.” 

She unbuckles her seatbelt and kneels on the seat, unbuttoning her suit pants, “You know, if you’re going to be so sexy on the scene you should at least do it on days when I’m wearing a skirt.” 

His laugh is deep and dark, he undoes his belt and pushes the seat back so there’s enough room between his chest and the steering wheel for her to sit. He watches her push her pants down and as soon as just the one leg is free he hauls her into his lap. He helps her out of her suit jacket and tosses it onto the passenger seat, “I told you this outfit was doing something for me.” 

“Show me,” she begs. “You said you’d show me?” 

With one hand on her hip, he pushes her button-up shirt up to see what she’s wearing. It’s a 1 piece of lingerie, white to hide under her shirt and lacy as hell. “I will show you…. Just let me appreciate this a bit. I know you spent too much money to get these for me, I’m going to make it worth it, baby.” 

He doesn’t want to unbutton the whole shirt, he wants her to still be partially dressed if they get caught… he knows they won't but he’s careful, nonetheless. He unbuttons the first 4 buttons, allowing the shirt to cup her boobs. He leans in and kisses her neck, one hand on her back, helping her arch so he can press kisses down her chest as she grinds against him. 

“Please, Aaron,” she pleads. “Just move it to the side and fuck me.” 

He hums against her, “Take me out?” He whispers, moving up to kiss her on the mouth again. She reached between them, pulled his zipper apart and reached into his boxers. He was hard, so hard that as soon as he was free his erection slapped against his stomach and he moaned into her mouth. She stroked him gently, causing him to buck his hips up into her, clashing his teeth against hers as the kiss gets rougher. 

He pushes her panties to the side, and brushes past her clit which makes her gasp. Not wasting any time, Y/N moved back so she could angle her hips over him and slid right onto his cock. The feeling of being filled and the grip Aaron had on her waist was mesmerizing. Aaron took her face in his hands and pulled her in for another kiss, it wasn’t as rough as before but still full of want. 

Y/N started to rock her hips forward, picking up a rhythm as their mouths moved together as well. He’d never felt this way while having sex with another person, maybe it was just really good, or maybe this is what making love felt like… even if they were just having a quickie in a borrowed FBI SUV. 

Aaron’s never felt this many emotions during sex, never once had he got butterflies thinking about sleeping with someone, let alone had his stomach flip when he turned a corner and merely saw someone… Something about Y/N and all the things they did together was different. Even a week into sleeping with each other, it was all so different than any relationship he’d ever had with anyone in his life. 

He really loved her, he was sure of it. 

That thought rocked though his body like someone had punched him in the gut. He stopped moving and pulled away from Y/N’s mouth. Eyes wide and staring at him.

“What? Are you okay?” She asked in shock.

He blinked a few times and shook his head, “No, yeah, sorry I thought I heard something sorry.”

She kissed him again, lightly this time. “We can stop if you want?”

Aaron simply gripped her hips tighter, bit his lip while looking her dead in the eyes, “I really don’t want to stop.” 

“Good.” She moaned, pulling him in again and kissing him some more.

She moved one hand to be in the back little tuft of hair at the base of his neck, tugging gently. 

Y/N could stay in these motions for hours, the feeling of Aaron inside her, lightly hitting her G-spot. The feeling of his big hand on her hip as the other roamed around to the front to rub her clit, getting her closer to the finish. It was the best pleasure one could experience. All building to one massive crescendo. 

Y/N felt herself getting close, her hips bucking more erratically. Aaron’s breath on her mouth was a sign he was feeling it too, his breathing had picked up when he started to get close the last time as well. 

She breathes heavily into his mouth, moaning slightly as everything builds and builds and builds and “Oh,” she tosses her head back and rides out her orgasm over him. 

Her cunt flutters, sucking him in even deeper, he’s not that far behind her. He buries his face in her neck and sloppily kisses her, he grips her hips with both hands now and uses all his strength to keep her bouncing on his cock. He mumbles against her neck, “Feel so fuckin’ good, baby, oh my god, I’m right there….” 

“Please sir, cum in me, fill me up, I want to go back to work and feel you slowly dripping out of me for the rest of the day,” she eggs him on. 

He groans, deep from within himself, he had no idea something like that would get him going but here he is, finishing deep inside her. He kisses her neck again, up to her ear and then grips the back of her head, pushing her lips against his own. It’s hot and heavy again, still inside her, he wishes he could stay in her all day long… but then his phone rings. Bringing an end to their fun.  

He pulls back and brushes her hair off her face, looking deep in her eyes, “You’re nasty… I love it.” 

She simply smirks, “I know.” 

She reaches into his suit jacket and takes his phone, answering for him. “SSA Aaron Hotchner's Phone…”

He can’t believe she, answering his phone for him while sitting on his softening dick. He starts rebutting her shirt for her, pressing a kiss to the centre of her chest before doing the last button up 

“Yeah, he’s just driving right now, yep, sounds good, Derek. We’ll Meet you on the tarmac,” she smiles, hanging up on him. “They found his trophies, Hawthorn is royally fucked, now.”

“Good, now let’s get you home.” 

—

Agreeing to go to the bar after work with the main team wasn’t her smartest decision. You see, once Derek Morgan gets a couple drinks in his system, he’s even more of a teasing little shit than normal. 

So far, she’s been able to avoid his questions, he’s been kidding around with Penelope, asking JJ and Will about what it's like to have a sex life with a kid in the home and even teasing Kate about getting knocked up around Valentine's Day… Savannah seven shows up around the time gets a 3rd drink and she thinks the coast is clear, he’ll be too busy with the love of his life to ask Y/N any questions. 

She was wrong. 

“So,” he announces, letting everyone know he’s about to go off on another tangent. “Tell us about this new thing you’ve got going on, who is he… or is it a she?” 

She just laughs, “I’m not seeing anyone.” 

“Ooo so some random dude gave you a hickie on a Thursday night?” 

“What is with you and making the whole Thursday night thing such a big deal? I had free time after work, sue me!” 

“I’m not trying to be mean, I just wanna know what’s happening in your life! You’re hot and young, you’ve gotta be doing something fun with your time.” 

“You’re a poet,” she teases him for rhyming. “But no, it’s nothing serious. It's… a situationship at best. We fuck to blow off steam, it’s nothing more.” 

She hopes that that will get him off her case, she says exactly what she knows he wants to hear and nothing more… but then she turns to Aaron. He’s taking the last sip of his drink, he frowns and checks his phone. “Excuse me, everyone, I have to head home, Jack needs me.” 

“Oh, yeah, no problem boss man, have a good night,” Derek taps his shoulder as Aaron pushes through the crowd. 

Her heart breaks. She fucked up. Spencer looks at her, knowingly. He’s probably the only one on the team who’s clued in on them sleeping together, and it’s only because he was the one who came to their hotel room to fetch them during the case. 

“Um…” she’s so thrown now, she just stares at the door feeling like shit. “I think I should go home, too.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Derek rolls his eyes. “Go get dicked-down.” 

“Derek,” she stares him down, trying to stand her ground. “Please stop. I don’t like when you do this.” 

“Okay,” he backs down. “I’m sorry, I was just teasing—

“If it’s just you laughing, it’s not funny,” she snaps back. “Please, stop asking about it, stop teasing, stop digging. I’m not someone who likes to share.” 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, genuinely,” he truly means it. 

“I’ve gotta go,” she grabs her purse and all but runs out the door. She runs down the sidewalk all the way to the parking lot and blocks the exit so he can’t drive out. “Aaron!” 

He rolls the window down, yelling, “are you crazy?! I could’ve hit you?” 

She rushes around to the passenger side and reefs on the door, “Open up!” He clicks the unlock button and she gets in quickly. Cars honk behind him so he has to keep driving, rolling out onto the road, he follows traffic out. “I’m so sorry!” 

“No, it’s fine, I get it—

“No. You don’t. I only said that because then they’d stop asking about it! You’re more to me than some stupid guy that I just fuck for fun, I promise you, you mean so so so much to me.” 

He pulls the car over to the side of the road and looks at her. “How much?” 

“I-I… Aaron?” She pleads with her eyes, not wanting to embarrass herself by saying it if he doesn’t love her back. 

“Say it.” 

She opens her mouth, trying to say it but she can’t. 

“Fine,” he shakes his head and gives in. “I get it if you don’t feel the same but this isn’t just sex for me. I only started it as a sex thing because I couldn’t handle asking you out on a real date and romancing you and you just getting bored of me… I thought if we had sex, maybe, just maybe, you’d love me back too.” 

“Aaron—

“It’s fine if you—

“I do love you!” She shouts. “I love you so much it makes me feel fucking insane! I never imagined you loving me back…” 

“Why not?” He doesn’t understand that. “You’re everything to me? I haven’t felt this way about someone since I was a teenager. When I thought my first wife was going to be the love of my life…” 

She softens up, completely, looking at him with her whole heart in her expression, “Oh, Aaron, I-I… I’m sorry, I just never thought you’d love me, you’re so important and I’m just—

“You’re a crustal member of my team. Without you, we’d all be lost… but you’re so much more than just the media girl,” he admits. “When I rehired for that position I hoped I’d have someone who would help me but you’ve done so much more than that. You make me feel special. You make me feel handsome again… you make me feel loved and appreciated and like I’m good. I don’t often feel like a good person. You make me not only feel like I’m worthy of happiness but you bring me so so much. I love you. I don’t care if that affects how we do our jobs. I love you. And I don’t know if I can stop.” 

She unclips her seatbelt and reaches over, cupping his face in her hands, “I don’t ever want you to.” 

He presses their lips together a bit roughly and she smiles into the kiss, “take me home,” she whispers against his lips. “Please?” 

“Put your seatbelt back on,” he teases as he pulls away. He makes sure she’s safely buckled in before he merges back out with the traffic. He moves his light hand over to rest on her leg, rubbing circles with his thumb, he just likes to touch her all the time. 

She reaches down to the button of her suit pants and pops it, she pulls at the fabric making the zipper hiss as it’s ripped apart. She grips his wrist and redirects his hand into her panties. Sometime between the flight home and heading to the bar, she changed her underwear… what she was wearing got a little ruined from their previous antics in the car, but she didn’t care. 

“Eager, are we?” 

She nods, “Please?” She holds his wrist with her right hand and wraps her left around his bicep, holding onto him as his finger makes contact with her clit once more. “Oh, thank you,” she moans, relaxing into her seat finally. 

He smirks, watching the road but he can see her head lulled back in his peripheral vision. “Let me hear you, baby, it’s just us…” 

“I’ve missed your fingers,” she admits through bated breath. “Oh my god, Aaron,” she pushes her hips up into his touch for more, feeling him press into her harder, he uses his forefingers to rub her clit now. She’s so fucking wet he can hear it alongside her whimpers and moans for more.

“You’re just so desperate for me,” he teases her.  

“Feels, oh god, feels so good, I— oh,” she bucks her hips up against his hand he knows she’s close. She grips his bicep harder, “I wanna cum, please? Please? Can I cum?” 

He smirks, turning onto her street, he could either let her cum now or make her hold off until he’s inside her… “cum for me, baby,” he lets her go. She’s going to be so much more pliant and overstimulated once he gets her through the door, now.

Barely over her orgasm, she points at her usual parking spot and tells him to take it. He pulls in and parks, he takes his hand out of her pants and sucks his fingers clean. She doesn’t even bother buttoning her pants back up, she simply throws off her seatbelt and opens the door. He follows her lead, into the building and towards the elevator. 

Once the doors are closed he lunges for her, kissing her deeply he cups his hand at the back of her head to protect her as he slams her up against the wall. Her hands go inside his suit jacket, scratching at his skin through his dress shirt. The elevator dings on her floor, opening its doors, they pull apart and he holds her hand as she drags him down the hallway towards her apartment. She digs her keys from her purse and unlocks the door as quickly as possible. 

Once again, he gets her inside, she tosses her things to the ground and has her turn to push him up against the wall. He pushes her suit jacket off her shoulders and she undoes his belt, pulling it through the loops and then she tosses it to the floor beside her purse. He starts to walk he backwards, still making out, he follows the floor plan of her apartment and leads her towards what he assumes is her bedroom. She simply pulls away and laughs, “Taking me to do laundry?” 

“Sorry, I don’t know where we’re going?” He laughs, too. Smiling at her, he keeps both his hands on her hips. “Show me the way?” 

She takes his hand and tugs him the other way down the hall, into her bedroom she flicks the light on and feels a bit embarrassed, “Sorry it’s a mess in here.” 

“It’s fine… I’m going to end up making a mess of you anyway,” Aaron teases. 

He pulls her in close again and starts unbuttoning her dress shirt. She does the same for him, pushing both his shirt and his jacket to the floor once she’s done. She takes her own shirt off too and then starts pushing her pants down. She kicks her shoes off and once she’s in just her underwear she gets into bed. She watches him kick his shoes off too, he makes eye contact with her as he pushes his pants and boxers to the floor. 

Oh, she’s getting ruined tonight. 

He gets on the bed between her legs, “come on, get naked with me,” he says as he reached for her panties. He tugs them off and she reaches behind her back to unclasp her bra. As soon as she’s completely naked, he hovers over her, and runs his hand from her cheek down her neck and between her breasts, “you’re so beautiful.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she teases, leaning in to steal a kiss. 

He drops his chest against hers, wraps his arms around her and completely engulfs her with himself. She wraps her legs around him, grinding his hardening cock against her core. Holding his face in her hands. He trails his hands over her stomach, along her sides up to cup her boobs. He grinds his hips against hers, cock pushing between her folds the head collides with her clit, making them moan into each other's mouths.  

“Aaron baby,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “make love to me?” 

He grips himself at the base of his cock and taps the head against her clit with a smirk, she moans slightly, reaching out for him to come back to her, equally just as needy as him. 

He slips into her slowly, pushing in little by little while his tongue explores her mouth. With her hands now in his hair, his all over her body, she wraps her legs around him as he bottoms out. He pulls his lips away just enough to whisper, “I love you.” He kisses her jaw, up to her ear as he starts to thrust lightly. 

“I love you,” she moans back, grinding up against him. His pelvis rubs against her clit, he’s so deep inside of her, he’s so tender with her and her body. He wraps an arm around her, under her back, and the other cups the back of her head while he kisses her neck, fucking into her with so much passion she could cry. 

Other than their subtle moans and the headboard hitting the wall again, they’re mostly quiet. She’s so close, her stomach is a flutter of fireflies, twinkling as they swirl around inside of her. “Please?” She mumbles, gripping his back like her life depends on it, “fuck, go a little harder, please?” 

He hums against her neck before pulling back, he settles on his knees, spreading hers apart as he fucks into her with more intent. He shoves a pillow under her lower back, getting even deeper inside than before while at a beautiful angle. He reaches between them, rubbing her clit for added pleasure and boy, does she love it. Her back arches and she writhes in the sheets with only one thought in her mind. 

“I love you, oh I love you,” she reminds him. “Right there, please, baby?” 

“Cum for me, my love,” he can’t help but smile, the sight unfolding under him was a dream come true. 

Her orgasm hits her suddenly, spreading through her body while she shook and trembled under him. “Holy shit,” he stumbled forward, resting against her again as he rutted his hips into her with vigour. She wrapped herself around him again, relishing in the pleasure that filled her body.

His rhythm falters, “I love you, baby, god, I’m— oh fuck, I love you,” he pants against her neck buried so deep inside of her, he lets go and finishes with a deep groan. 

He slumps against her, fucked out and exhausted. She holds him close, running her hands up and down his back. “I love you… I’m so glad I can say it now.” 

“I’m glad too,” he smiles against her. He snuggles in, not resting as much weight on her but still there, on her chest and still inside her. “I’m going to tell you all the time.” 

“Should we go see Cruz tomorrow?” She suggests. “I don't think I can keep it a secret anymore.” 

He nods, “Yeah… and you can tell everyone when you want to. I want you to be respected no matter what.” 

“Which is why I love you,” she teases. 

“We’re going to be okay,” he assures her. “I know it.” 

“I do too.” 

@dim-i-try @mrs-ssa-hotch 

General Taglist 

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtlee @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86 @buckleyhans

[kimhargreeves]

Always Back-William Afton x Reader

Summary: You are looking for another job after struggling financially. You find a help wanted sign to a once famous pizzeria. You set up a meeting with the manager of the place who seems to know you somehow.

(A/N: lately I've been too damn excited for the Fnaf movie and wanted to write something on Matthew Lillard's William Afton character. So be warned on some topics written here. I'll also be writing on Josh Hutchinson's' character of Mike.)

12:00 am

The loud sound of an alarm clock could be heard throughout the house. It's Midnight. My eyes were adjusted from being in the dark room, I remained silent, scared, could feel my heart beating faster every passing minute. Chills ran down my spine when the clock sounded for one last time…

Quietly I stepped out of my bed while holding onto my favorite stuffed plushie, passing through the closet just a few inches away from the front of my bed, immediately I stopped trying to listen for anything, trying to ignore the quiet ticking of the clock above my head.

Slowly I began to make my way over to the door and stopped once more. I hear something, maybe down the hall?

I pressed my ear against it, listening closely. After a couple of seconds I heard something loud. Curiosity got the best of me, quietly I opened the door and tried to see if I could spot anything through the dark hall.

Wait… Something's coming…

I jumped back and pull the door with me as I locked it and pressed my ear against the door again.

I could hear someone coming closer, until it stopped. I began to pant and felt my heart beating faster when I heard a scream coming from down the hall, the cries of a woman, my mother..and the shouting of a man.

Too scared to look again I slowly began to walk backwards while my eyes remained on the door when I could hear footsteps coming down the hall once more.

I jumped but made no sound when the door knob began to move, but it wouldn't open. I looked between my bed and the white closet closest to me. Sliding it open I hid myself inside and quietly closed it back, it was dark making it almost impossible to see now.

Carefully I made my way past a few boxes and draped a blanket over it and myself. I hugged my legs together and held onto my stuffed Foxy plush. I closed my eyes as I began to shake and I cowered myself closer to the corner when I heard the door to my room being unlocked.

The sound of my alarm clock began to blare and without looking at it, I grabbed it and slammed it against the floor making it shatter but the sound wouldn't stop. I groaned as I opened my eyes again and had to turn the thing off.

Once I did, I sat down in bed and began to push my hair away from my face and tried to calm my breathing. It's that same nightmare again.

I got out of my bed and went to get myself ready for the day, making sure to have my shower cold today.

I tied my hair with a few strands falling down my face and got into my car to head to my work for the day.

*"

"Excuse me, where's the horror section?" A woman came over to ask me when she saw me organizing a few dvds and shelves. I pointed out the section and glanced to see the lady looking at a few movies.

Working at a movie store doesn't earn much, but it's the only job I could find. Besides, it was the only job where I could be accepted as well, I used to dye my hair regularly but decided against it since some working places weren't fond of it, the into thing I had were a few ear piercings and one on my eyebrow.

Other than that, I get the boring jobs and have been struggling financially for a while now along with a friend, well, I consider the person a friend since he sometimes comes around with his little sister.

I believe I've heard his name is Mike and the little girl is Abigail.

I wonder if it's just the two of them living together. It must be nice to have a sibling or a family member to look after.

My thoughts were interrupted when the same lady from earlier came over to rent a movie. Who even rents movies anymore? People might ask and I do at certain times, but I do miss a few things I got to experience in my childhood..like…

I turned my head and saw a flier taped against the shops window. I looked around and saw there were no customers, it wasn't here early when I came in. I walked up the window read what was displayed on it

"Help Wanted. Security guard to work at Freddy's Pizzeria. No background check needed. For more information call this number…"

I furrowed my eyebrows looking at the paper, I grabbed it off from the window and took it back with me inside.

Freddy's Pizzeria. Now that's a name I haven't heard in over ten years.

Would it hurt to take another side job. Being a security guard isn't that hard after all, just losing a few hours of sleep and being alone for the night. I grabbed the work phone and began to dial the number on the paper sheet.

While the phone continued to ring I had my eyes on the pizzerias mascots, until finally the phone was picked up

"Hello? I'm calling about the night security guard. I'd like to apply for the job."

Right after my shift ended from work I immediately drove up to the pizzeria. It was almost in the middle of nowhere, the family friendly restaurant wad almost abandoned now.

I stepped out of my car and saw the pizzerias sign wasn't even over the restaurant anymore, but on the floor almost in ruin.

"Wow..this place became a shit hole." I mutter under my breathe and placed my keys inside my pockets.

Slowly I began to take steps closer to the building and saw how chipped the walls seemed and I remembered this place being so bright and full of life.

"Hello?" I knocked on the door and waited a couple of minutes but no one responded. I sighed loudly and began to pull onto the door until it opened and I stepped inside.

"Let's all sing happy birthday to the special birthday girl!"

Confetti rainbow colored filled the room with tons of party hats, balloons and presents. All the kids cheered including myself when the animatronics appeared onstage.

Freddy, Chica, and Bonnie. Including Foxy who was on pirate cove.

Everyone in my class was invited to my party, not that I was close to any of them. All of them were too young to understand the bruises on my face or arms so they made fun of me for that.

"So (Y/N), are you liking the day so far?" My mother asked.

I looked up at her and ignored her bruised eye, I nodded my head. "I am."

Of course I was, but I wondered how she got the money to save up and be able to do this birthday for me, since every few times I've come here, the pizzeria doesn't have an open slot for a birthday to be done in here.

I had been playing by myself and with a few kids late on, by the time I returned to my seat I found a single present with my name on it. My mother said that it wasn't from her.

Looking back to my left I remembered the memories of my birthday and the exact spot I was seated. All my mother ever told me was that my birthday here was already paid, it was probably paid by each parent in my class.

Next I stared at the stage in front of me. It was covered by a curtain and I really wanted to see what was on the other side.

I began to slowly step forward until I heard footsteps behind me and I screamed and held onto my chest and saw a man in front of me. He quickly stepped back and held his hands ups.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you." The man laughed.

He was older than me that's for sure. Maybe early 50's, he seemed attractive for his age. Though the Dahmer glasses weren't something I was expecting.

"Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" he asked fixing his glasses and stand up straight.

"Yes! Sorry, yes I am. And you're?"

"Steve Raglan. I'm the manager at Freddy's Pizzeria. Please let's step into my office do I can further explain things to you."

I did as told and began to follow the man. We made it to his office and I could see his name written on the desk as well when he went to sit on the other side.

We each took our seats and I saw him take out a notebook and began to write on it. "Alright, (Y/N). Tell me a bit about yourself, why do you want the job?"

"I thought the paper said there was no need of a background check." I joked and saw that he wasn't smiling.

"I'm aware of that but I'm just making sure that you'll be perfect for the job without any sort of problems. We can't let any stranger in here, what if I were to hire a murderer?" Steve chuckled once and tapped his pen again.

"Right..umm. I'm just interested in the money if I'm honest. Are you planning on reopening the restaurant soon?"

Steve seemed to think about it for a few seconds. "Of course. I would love to see the place filled with joy again and the laughter of children most of all."

"You are right. Thinking hard about it, it would be nice for a new generation of kids to experience Freddy's Pizzeria."

This seemed to interest Steve. "You would come here often?"

"Not that much, only whenever a classmate of mine would decide to spend their birthday here. I really enjoyed it here and seeing the animatronics. Foxy was my favorite." I tell him.

He hums and continues to take notes. "You do seem like a Foxy fanatic to me." He jokes and I smirk back.

"What would yours be? Freddy?

Steve shakes his head a bit. "Something like that. Let's say it's a rabbit…" He says smiling a bit. He places the pen down and folds his hands together now looking back at me.

"I think I've seen you at the mall. You work at a movie store, correct?"

"So now you're a stalker." I question feeling just a bit weirded out by it.

"I'm a busy man to be doing such things. I've just visited the place once and if I'm not mistaken, you look like one of the girls working there."

I nod my head once and crossed my arms over my chest. "I'm not quite hard to miss either. Yes I do work there. If I'm able to get this second job, I'll surely move into a nicer place."

He raised an eyebrow. "Second one? Don't your parents help you out?"

"My mom only cares to contact with me if I have money to help her out. And about my dad, well I never met the man. I did have a stepdad but he's not important." I simply tell him not to say anymore or remember the past.

Steve Raglan looked at his wrist watch and then back at me. "Miss (Y/N). I can't say you're hired right away since there's another person who contacted me right when you came in. Let's make this fun. You and this other person will stay for the night and we'll see which one can handle it."

"Which one can survive the night." He smiled.

"I'm willing to work extra hours if it means that I'll have the job." I said standing up and he did the same.

He held his hand out for a handshake. "Then I'm looking forward to see who wins. Now, follow me I'll be handing out your uniform."

I smiled at Steve and began to follow him over to the storage area. I sniffed the air and it wasn't a quite pleasant smell, but I decided not to comment on it. It was kinda dark but I could see a Bonnie head on the far corner and a few other items.

"I want you here at 12 o'clock sharp. No delays." Steve said handing me my uniform and a few more things.

Looking up at the man I nodded my head again and smiled. "Of course, Sir." I tell him and could've sworn I saw his expression change a bit.

"Great. I hope you and your partner will get along. I look forward to seeing your progress." Steve said guiding back to the main entrance. With a quick goodbye, Steve closed the doors behind him leaving me alone outside.

I started going back into my car and looked at Freddy's Pizzeria. My new job. Let's see what's do complicated about this job.

[luesmainblog]

I don't have the brains to get screenshots, but the video essay in my head is going off, so some thoughts:

Elemental makes a pretty cool example of how a group can be disabled not because of their bodies being inherently Wrong somehow, but because their environment is actively hostile to them. and this adds into how there are different layers of marginalization depending on where you live.

the city is Designed for water people. because of how water folks work, it is generally Safe for air and tree people, and it isn't difficult to make some minor accommodations for their needs, but it's still consistently obvious that this city is FOR water people. They can move around it much, MUCH more freely than any of the other groups existing here.

Fire people, having needs and concerns significantly different than the other residents, are in active danger in this environment, as well as posing an accidental danger to other residents. There are obvious examples of this, like the way that the aquabus overflows its channel whenever it passes by and this causes a huge splash of water down onto the fire people's hometown, but there are also subtle examples of this.

one scene that stands out to me is the one plant man's office; absolutely OVERFLOWN with plantlife. an accommodation(?) for him which makes the area mildly annoying to get through for water people, and presumably air people, but becomes a minefield for any fire person needing to visit him in person…. which appears to be the standard procedure for withdrawing a paper sent his way. this is kind of hard to explain but disabled people can sometimes find themselves in environments where they "cause damage" because the area was NOT made with them in mind; a fire person is at a risk of lighting those plants on fire, and a person in a wheelchair is liable to knock into your shelves, for the exact same reason: they have no room to safely navigate. and this can make a really shitty situation where the disabled person is blamed for "not being careful" when the real issue is that the area should have been planned better to prevent that sort of incident.

there's also the family visit, which, JESUS there is a lot to examine there, but the two big ones: One, the casual bigotry displayed by the little kids. one of them asks "if you fall in the water, will you Die?" and then proceeds to wiggle the chair, intending to knock her into the water and find out. sadly, this is an (only slightly) exaggerated thing that real kids DO if they are not taught about disabilities and generally taught some god damn manners. a kid might pull on an oxygen chord, or push your wheelchair without asking, try to steal your cane, etc etc. this is an issue of social structure; there's certain things we're Expected to teach our kids and others that are treated as Extra, and disability often falls into Extra unless it's the specific one grandpa has.

the other is how the family gives,,, absolutely NO consideration to her needs in this house. wade and ember are left to quickly figure out how she can safely navigate a water house on their own, expected to follow right away. thankfully they're able to find something easily enough, but it's the mix of architecture and social awareness that puts her in danger just BEING in this house.

more in reblog

[alicelufenia]

What follows is a little micro fiction I wrote in a daze at 1am, about my latest Baldur's Gate 3 character Tavierra, cleric of Eilistraee, dancer, singer, and former assassin of Menzoberranzan. This takes place in her early life, before transitioning, before meeting the Silverhair Knight who aided and abetted her escape to the surface and a life with the goddess who would see the Drow liberated.

Most days when I sleep, there are no dreams. That is how it is for Drow. It was only in my fourth or fifth decade that I even learned the word "dream". When trancing fails to bring us rest and we must lay our heads and bodies down and, against every instinct, let consciousness slip away, we know only oblivion.

Like a book with dense text that, upon turning a leaf you are greeted with a set of blank pages. Sometimes they number a few, sometimes a dozen, two dozen, a hundred—and you flip them each time expecting something and are rewarded with more blankness until, once you're convinced there are no more written pages—FLIP—and the story continues at the next waiting word, the missing syllable from the last string of letters that, united, form a whole. The passing of one waking moment to another, across half a dozen hours, a miniature abyss of time and knowing.

In my youth and foolish growing years I would often lay myself down to sleep, cease for a time, and upon waking ask myself if I still am me. Do I fall asleep only to wake as another person. With a blink my eyes adjust to the infrared and cast about my person, alone as I remember. I never slept when others were around, not back then, not with the company I kept. Quickly each detail would come back to me; the slip slide of spider silk sheets over my body, my room with a textiles work bench, shelves of books placed out of order, the modest shrine to Lolth in the corner, yesterday's discarded clothes strewn on the floor. The walls are decorated with multi-colored spider silk threads, the resident spiders in their usual resting corners. I see all of this, and I know I am still me. I get up, and go about my day.

I don't remember when I first started seeing and remembering after sleep. My friend from before I entered the academy, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set tight as I signed to him in the silent speech of my people, asking if he sometimes saw things when he slept. "If you see visions gifted by Lolth, that is right and proper," his fingers spoke into the palm of my hand. "If you see anything else, do not speak it, do not sign it. Cast it from your mind and into the abyss. This discussion never happened." I didn't share any more, with him or anyone else, after that.

Most sleeps I did not dream, enjoying instead the common nothingness I had grown accustomed to. But on occasion—at least a dozen times a year—I would close my eyes and marvel at

her

She was always present in my dreams, sometimes front and center with no distractions, sometimes off in the distance, but I always could count on her presence. A maiden with long flowing white hair, limber and lithe limbs twirling in arcs and spirals about her body. She commanded the space around her, yet unlike most women I did not feel compelled to cast down my eyes lest she demanded them from my skull. In my dreams, she demanded nothing from me, only offering an invitation. To watch. To sing. To dance with her. I almost felt like I could do it, like I could stay by her side and abandon all masks, all denial, all ambition, and just Be.

Other visions featured in my dreams plenty. Images and landscapes I would not understand until years later, when I would journey to the world's surface in raiding parties, doing what was demanded of me. Rolling hills of dark green flora speckled with color, towering plants thicker and taller than any mushrooms, their canopies creating strange cavern-like spaces in this realm beyond the Underdark. And above them, an expanse deeper in its height than the deepest layers of the abyss, sparkling lights dancing like the faerie fire glittering off every building's edge in the city, only more, so many, many more.

When I woke from the first such dream, my eyes were wet with streaks of tears, though I could feel no irritation in them. It would be half a century before I knew what it meant to cry. I then gathered myself, and rose feeling truly renewed. Going forth into the waking world, I played the game I was born to play—mercantile ventures, performing in plays to entertain prospective nobles looking to adopt, and once in their employ, I would carry out their covert deeds of spying and assassination. This work I did and did it well, with one concern on my mind: survival til the next cycle of Narbondel.

Till the next time I could sleep, and gaze upon the Dark Maiden and the lands above, where trees and flowers grow.

[pinkslashersimp]

✨🌸aaaaahhh!!! I saw you wrote for harry!!!✨🌸

✨🌸If it's not any trouble could you do harry and Michael (whichever is fine!)✨🌸

✨🌸How would they react to a s/o who's short? Like she climbs on counters to reach things?✨🌸

✨🌸And to give them little head pats she stand on her tip toes?✨🌸

✨🌸I thought it was a pretty cute idea! Thank you!✨🌸

HELLO!! tysm yes i absolutely can write this for u i ahve been WAITING for someone to request harry i love him sm 💗💗💗

i’ll do both harry and michael since i have sm love for them 😭💗

also i’m so so sorry it’s taken such a ridiculously long time to reach your request! I’ve had so much on and had 0 time but thank god it’s all slowed down now, honestly tysm for ur patience it means the world to me

TW: Reader is a girl, OG Michael is an asshole, implication of violence but not rlly dw

if any of this triggers u pls pls scroll and keep urself safe🤍

Harry and Michael with a Short!S/O (not poly) 🌷💗

Harry Warden

If I’m being honest I don’t think Harry wouldn’t really notice your height so much at first

Oh you’re shorter than him? okay??? most chicks are...????

Honestly the dude pays 0 notice to it at first, hes so used to towering over people it doesn’t catches his attention

He does, however, enjoy when you kiss him before work and you have to lean up and place your hands on his shoulders;)

He really notices when you start climbing on shit

He came home one night after an excruciatingly long day of mining, wanting nothing more than to eat something warm and flop down on bed with you

“Where’s dinner?”

“I’m just- in the process of- making- hold on.” You struggle out, as you try to reach for the spices Harry had so cruelly placed on the top shelf. In exasperation, you climb onto the counter and reach up for them again

The whole time he’s stood in the doorway, mask off, staring at you completely bewildered

“D’you, uh, need help?”

Starts lifting you up to reach things because he’s worried one day you’ll fall when he’s not home and hurt yourself badly

Plus he just likes the feeling of being taller and stronger

OG Michael Myers

Absolutely notices and takes pride in it.

You’re shorter than him? Good.

Likes to deliberately annoy you by placing things you need as high up as he can, so he can watch you struggle to get them.

Bastard man

Sometimes just to be mean he’ll stand directly behind you as you try to reach for whatever item he put just out of your reach.

Y’know, just to let you wallow in the fact you’re so tiny.

And so you’ll ask him to grab it for you, which he does, with a very big smirk hidden under his mask

Very much enjoys grabbing your waist and leaning you into him whenever you stand on your tip toes to kiss or touch him

Is quite annoyed when you begin climbing on counters to grab your bag hes placed on the top shelf, or using the broom to slide it towards you

Why aren’t you relying on him?

Just a very mean man tbh

RZ Michael Myers

Notices, and absolutely does not give a shit.

The man is 6’9, everyone he meets is smaller than him and you make absolutely no difference.

Until one day he hears you yelling for him from the living room

Making his way downstairs, he takes note of your annoyed expression, and cocks his head to one side

You point up the the car keys and ask if he can please pass them to you because you’ll be late for work.

Which is when it clicks. He borrowed your car, and forgot you usually leave the keys by the side of the door, and he’s placed them all the way on top of the coat rack for some reason.

Gives you a little kiss as an apology and then waits for you to leave for work.

So he can place everything high on the shelves and playfully watch you suffer when you come back from home

Is more than amused to see you climbing on top of the furniture to grab your purse

Will always stand behind you though to make sure you fall into his arms rather than the cold hard floor

[inkedreverie]

Love me, I’m lost

pairing: peter ballard x innocent!reader

warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst then fluff. soft!peter ballard, peter has daddy/abandonment issues, talks of near death experience & cpr. reader is of age.

A/n: another repost from my old blog. Trying to get everything uploaded on here while I work on wips. I have a sequel to this in the works that will hopefully be released soon. Reblog/comments & any kind of feedback is encouraged and appreciated!

He’s in denial at first. Peter never thought he was capable of loving someone. Never had the chance to before Y/N entered his life. She pulled at his heart strings sometime along the way. The two have grown really close. When he started mentoring her, he quickly realized Y/N and him were very similar. The other teens have been bullying her. They don’t like how strong and powerful Y/N is.

Dr. Brenner’s grown suspicious of them. Y/N and Peter have been sneaking around. It's become more frequent ever since that day he dragged her into the Janitor's closet and kissed her. Still makes her cheeks heat up when the memory invades her mind—She’s walking down the hallway, headed towards her room. Papa had pushed her really hard and she was tired. Next thing she knows she’s being pulled in by her waist, back hitting the hard edge of the shelves.

Before she can react, she’s greeted with cerulean eyes and him saying, “There you are.” He’s now gripping her chin and leaning down, soft lips capturing her own. She’s never been kissed before, and when he pulls away her head is spinning, butterflies still churning in her stomach. “Y/N, I can’t hide my feelings from you anymore,” he finally says. “I know it’s risky but…” Y/N gives him a soft smile and Peter can feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders when she finally responds. “Shh. I feel the same way”, she mumbles, scared to say the words any louder. Afraid someone in the hallway passing by will overhear them.

After that, it turned into a routine. Every evening she’d meet Peter in the closet. The rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins never gets old. Y/N’s appearance in the rainbow room lessened and Peter snuck into her room almost every night, sometimes he even gave into the temptation and stayed till dawn. Arms wrapped around her lower stomach, back against his chest. His breath tickling the back of her neck as Y/N falls asleep. Peter knows he shouldn’t, that there’s a chance he’ll get caught by Dr. Brenner and get a beating. But, at this point he doesn’t care. He’d do anything for her.

—

Peter remembers the night they both escaped but it’s like a dream, in a sense. Multiple images scattered and misplaced. His mind has blocked some parts of it out, protecting him. He’s already had so much trauma as it is. Peter’s thankful he doesn’t remember all the details. He doesn’t remember Y/N almost dying, or how he carried her out in his arms, blood dripping out of her nostrils, barely breathing.

She’d over exerted herself, and even though Peter did most of the dirty work, killing the other orderlies, along with Brenner’s men. The last person waiting for them was Dr. Brennar himself, blocking the last exit. Peter stops, hands clenched into fists. He had no problem killing the rest of the staff or anyone else who got in the way, but when he sees Dr. Brennar before him, he freezes. He can’t quite understand why. He’s dreamt of this moment. Before he can muster up any courage, Y/N steps forward and it takes everything in her to lift Martin off the ground, sending him flying through the cement wall to the right of them. The last thing he remembers is giving her CPR and desperately pleading, “Y/N, don’t do this to me. Not now. We’re free. Wake up, please. Y/N, please wake up!”

When he wakes and sees her beside him, he can’t help but smile, burying those painful memories to the depths of his mind. And that dreadful night at Hawkin’s Lab is a mere memory, for now. He feels like he needs to pinch himself to make sure this is real. That every day the sun rises he gets to wake up with her in his arms. Wrinkled, tangled sheets wrapped around both of their waists.

He hates to wake her up, Peter loves watching Y/N sleep, he’d spend all morning watching her if he could, and most days he does. Peacefully watching her chest rising and falling, the stream of sunlight shining through the window, making her skin aglow. Finally, Peter presses his lips against her bare shoulder. “Baby, it’s time to wake up.” At first he’s not sure she’s heard him. And he hates the thought of having to raise his voice again. He really does hate to do this. She’s so peaceful and he loves the warmth radiating off of her. Skin touching skin.

But then Y/N turns on her side, face burrowing into the crook of his neck. Groaning, she slips her arm around his waist. “Just a few more minutes, please?” she mumbles and Peter grins in response. “Let’s just stay like this a little longer.”

Normally, he’d happily sigh and say ‘yes’. It’s not easy for him to say no to her. Peter’s still adjusting to this life the two of them have now. Not having to be afraid of doing the wrong things, having to hide their feelings in public or having to face Dr. Brenner’s wrath. A year has passed and he’s not used to this amount of unlimited freedom at his fingertips.

He places his hand on the back of her head, fingers raking through her hair softly. “I wish we could.”

“Please, just one more minute,” Y/N pleads. She lifts her head, hand slipping around to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. His forehead touches her own. His lips curl up into a faint smile, palm cupping her face.

His eyes dart from hers down to her mouth, the pad of his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to leave this bed,” Y/N’s fingers sink into his hair. “I don’t see how that’s a problem.” He chuckles in response, softly pecks her forehead before he gets up, disappearing into the bathroom.

—

It’s late at night when he feels the panic set in. Y/N has to work a late shift again, which makes it that much harder for her to unlock the front door, fingers fumbling with her keys. The lock clicks, when she opens the door she’s met with her boyfriend glaring at her. Before she can even set the keys on the table, he’s in front of her, hands pressed on each side of the door.

“Where were you?!” he growls, eyes narrowing with such intensity, Y/N’s almost afraid to respond. He’s looking at her like she just betrayed him. And in his mind, she has.

It’s not often that she sees this side of him. Since the two of them have been together, it’s a rarity that he lets the anger and darkness seep through.

Y/N exhales, forcing a nervous smile. “I was at work. I had to work late, remember?” It takes him a moment to process. He still struggles with his demons and it doesn’t help that whenever she leaves, he’s alone with his thoughts most of the time.

Everyone has either abused or abandoned him, so it makes sense that she would too. Right? He keeps waiting for this to end. To him, it’s best if he expects the worst. Knows that this relationship with her is probably fleeting. He’ll hurt her or vice versa because that’s all he’s ever known and the world has beaten him down so many times.

After a few minutes pass, his face softens, head dipping down in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I was worried that you’d—” Peter pauses for a moment before turning around. He slumps down on the sofa, hands covering his face.

“That I’d what? That I’d leave you?” Y/N places her keys down on the end table. When he doesn’t move, she walks over, sitting next to him. “Peter, I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

“Hey,” she whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay.” When he finally looks up, his cheeks are red, eyes watery. He’s never been this vulnerable, never cried in front of anyone until now.

“I’m not ready… I don’t want to lose you,”

“Peter, you’re not going to.” Y/N whispers softly, placing a hand to his cheek, the pad of her thumb wiping away a single tear. “I don’t care how many times I have to tell you,” y/n offers him a faint smile, “I love you and I’m not going anywhere.”

He sniffles, his hands grip hers, pressing a chaste kiss on the inside of her palm. “I don’t deserve you.” he whispers, gazing up through dark lashes. Pulling her hand away from his mouth, he intertwined his fingers with her own. “I love you too.”

“You don’t have to say it back.”

Peter furrows his brows. “No, I mean it. I’ve known for a while now.”

Her eyes gleamed, lips curled up into a small smile. He’s never said it out loud before and she’s never held that against him. Knows that he needed time and frankly, Peter’s love language is physical touch so she never minded having to wait. Y/N’s been very patient with him but she’s also been dreaming of this moment. For him to finally say it back, it feels surreal to her.

“You mean the world to me, Y/N. And I know I don’t voice my feelings nearly enough…”

Shh,” she coos and before he can utter another word, her lips are on his, warm and soft. “You never have to explain yourself to me, Peter.” Y/N whispered, gazing at him with kind eyes. Peter leans down, and when he rests his head on her shoulder, all of his demons fall silent.

“I definitely don’t deserve you,” he mumbles.

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Jackunzel February Special Week 2 - Summer The Painter and the Drifter

Railroad worker. Grocer’s assistant. Farmhand. Carriage driver.

All jobs Jackson Overland has tried--and failed to keep. Word around town is that he has a bit of a problem with authority. A bit of a tendency to goof off when he should be stocking shelves or helping shop visitors or whatever else.

Jack can’t help it, really. Life is too short not to grab onto every fun moment you can, even at the cost of a boss or two’s ire. Or three. Or maybe four.

He’s running out of options. Jack has been floating from town to town with no real plan, always on the hunt for the least onerous occupation. But moving isn’t cheap, and less and less people want to hire a young man with a reputation for tomfoolery.

It’s become a tiresome life. He’s been a nomad since his early teen years, and he finds himself wanting somewhere to belong. Something to do with his fleeting life besides try to survive with the bare minimum effort.

Then one summer, he takes a job as a gardener on a country estate. The Coronas are a powerful and influential family--local celebrities and benefactors for the nearby village. Earls or viscounts or something of the sort--Jack can’t keep track of gentry ranks. All frivolous rich person business that’s never really going to cross into his sphere.

Or so he thinks.

House Corona’s soon-to-be-debutante daughter is a bit of an oddball, by noble standards. She spends her summer...well, much more earthy activities than Jack would expect from a proper young lady. Sitting--sometimes even lying--in the front lawn’s long grass and painting. Musing through books that (from what he can glimpse of them) look much more dense and complicated than what Jack’s heard “proper ladies” can wrap their heads around. Wandering around in the woods and picking every interesting plant she laid eyes on--not just dainty wildflowers one could make an inoffensive and demure hobby out of collecting.

Plants and flowers alike often end up woven into her perfectly-brushed blonde hair, much to the chagrin of her nurses. Whenever Jack hears harsh tones and raised voices across the garden, it’s more than likely to be Rapunzel getting a lecture about grass stains on her gowns or dirt in her hair or what sort of ungodly things all this sun must be doing to her perfect complexion. And, of course, there’s the frequent concern of her intimidating potential suitors at her debutante ball by “spouting out all those books you devour faster than gentlemen know what to do with it.”

It’s a sunny morning in midsummer when Lady Rapunzel first speaks to him, decked out in a gold-embroidered white dress and without a single reservation to be seen.

Well...alone, at least. They’ve exchanged words while passing on the lawn, but never a long conversation. Then one day, he stands up after trimming the roses to find House Corona’s heir right behind him, holding out a plate of strawberry jam tarts.

Apparently he was so consumed with his work that he didn’t hear her creeping through the long grass. He yelps, nearly falling into the same pit of thorns he’s been straightening out all morning.

Rapunzel has quick reflexes for a noble. Keeping a one-hand hold on the plate, she reaches out and grabs his wrist just before he’s impaled with several dozen of nature’s best domestic spikes.

She’s...surprisingly unbothered by how filthy his arms are. Most of her family tries to not so much as brush against him as they pass by.

“Hi!” She beams at him. “Sorry, uh...didn’t mean to startle you. You’ve been working so hard all day, so I thought you might want a snack? I helped make them myself! Not really supposed to work in the kitchen, but um...well, it passes the time when it’s too hot out.”

She grows a little self-conscious, not meeting his eyes for a second. Jack only chuckles.

“Hey, it’s all right. They look delicious. But...” His face falls as he realizes something. “I don’t want to get you in trouble, miss. Are you supposed to give me--”

“Oh, well.” Her eyes glint mischievously. “In a family like mine, you make a few enemies. You never know who might poison your tarts when you’re not looking. Safer to test them on the garden boy, right?”

When Jack looks at her skeptically, she laughs and swats him--the second time she’s voluntarily touched his dirt-caked arm, he notes.

“Relax! I’m kidding. No one’s looking, anyways. And if someone catches me, I’ll take the fall.”

He wonders if that’s possible--a noble taking the fall for a servant. It seems unlikely to work.

Regardless, those tarts are looking pretty damn good--and much fancier than anything he’s eaten recently. And he’s starving.

Rapunzel watches with utter delight as he devours the strawberry jam tarts (perhaps a little quicker than was dignified). The pastries taste like ambrosia from the gods themselves. The kind of delicacy Jack has only ever dreamed about.

“You’re a really good chef,” he blurts out. Probably not very proper, comparing someone of her station to a mere food preparer.

Lady Rapunzel takes it in stride, giggling.

“And you’re a really good gardener!” she replies cheerily.

The lady bites her lip, looking uncertain again.

“Father says I spend too much time on it, but...I’ve been painting your garden! in between the obligatory etiquette lessons, anyhow. Do you want to see?”

Jack casts a glance back at the rosebush--his bitter foe since the sun oozed over the horizon that morning. He’d love an excuse to be done with it.

“Why not?”

***

Rapunzel, it turns out, is extraordinarily talented. She belongs in a castle, doing commissions for a king. Not learning stupid, arbitrary propriety rules and waiting around to be married off to some rich, land-owning asshole.

Her paintings pop with cheerful, free-flowing colors--flower thickets and sunlit brick walls and the very hedges he regularly shapes. Tall hollyhocks and lush lupine and honeysuckle vines creeping along walls and the thatched roofs of the village in the distance. Trees with full emerald canopies, dappled sunlight and shadows stretching out below them. Birds and squirrels and deer and foxes peeking out from hidden corners, fur and feathers splotched with leaves. Everything in Rapunzel’s paintings teems with life.

Their story is an unlikely one--the drifter and the painter, brought together by appreciation for even the simplest, most overlooked beauty of the world. Rapunzel takes to picnicking as the summer rolls by, preferring to eat in relative “privacy” from her family in order to sneak Jack any number of things from the kitchen. Cheese, crackers, freshly-cut charcuterie meat, tart jam, wild-picked fruit, baguettes and miniature quiches just out of the oven. Fine champagne a far cry from the craft beers Jack can snag at the village tavern. It’s the most lavish that Jack has eaten in...well, in as long as he can remember.

But the food isn’t the only part of Jack’s long workday he comes to look forward to. As they lie snacking on Rapunzel’s blankets, she shows Jack journals and guidebooks, all filled with beautiful, detailed drawings of every plant he can imagine and explorations of the world around them. Rapunzel’s grown quite adept at plant identification, studying and copying the guidebook drawings until she could yank any wildflower or weed from the grass and tell Jack what it was from leaf shape alone. He never imagined he’d be particularly concerned with plants and such, but...

With the way Rapunzel gushes about them, her eyes glowing brighter than every sunlit summer leaf put together, it’s hard not to be.

But they know this little pocket of bliss they’ve found together can’t last forever. Autumn is fast approaching, and with it Rapunzel’s debutante ball and an end to the estate’s need for someone to tend its garden.

Jack knows he should move along, just like always. Rapunzel will need to search for a real suitor, not...

Not some wide-eyed gardener with delusions of being worthy of a noblewoman’s love.

Eventually, Jack and Rapunzel will be forced to ask if their secret rendezvouses and growing affection for each other are worth the Corona family’s ire...and whether they may have to up-heave everything they’ve ever known to stay in each other’s lives.

Perhaps, they think, it would be worth it.

***

EYYYYYY this lil bit too much longer to write than I thought, but here it is!!! Because I am literally always down for Jackunzel inter-class angst <3 <3 <3 Princess and Servant AU My Much Beloved <3 <3 <3

VERY pleased with all the deep green in this, it’s...well, summery XD Green is one of my favorite colors in the world so I’m generally always down for more of it lol. But hey, I followed the prompt! Just doing my civic duty X3

I’ve highkey had that “blonde girl painting in a field/park” pic forever, and I was always kind of hoping to use it for some kind of period piece??? So I guess this was the end result of that urge. Idk how well the clothing fits in with the vague time period I selected, but...let’s hope it’s at least believable XD Sadly I have no definitive answer for the time period besides Ye Olden Days When Inter-Class Marriages and Romances Were More Taboo, whoops ^^;

Damn, now I...really want that picnic food and those jam tarts D: Alas, the downside of writing (and providing visuals) about your blorbos doing fun activities is then you would like to join in. Not to woo them, no--that is only for Jack and Punzel to do to each other--but instead to have to opportunity to eat quality food. Which is, of course, always my main priority.

I really gotta eat more jam and cheese and crackers, it really makes me feel like a fantasy protagonist or a Jane Austen character akjdhbpesuv

Pic credits available upon request!

[10moonymhrivertam]

Hazbin BatB AU Preview

Charlie pushed open the door, smiling at the gentle chime that wound through the shop. It was louder than such a little bell ought to have been able to make, but only if you listened the right way, like her mother had taught her. Looking into one of the dim corners of the shop helped resolve Alastor’s shape out of the shadows, even as he stepped onto the floor-proper of the bookshop.

“Charlie! You little demon. Back so soon?” Charlie could never help the way her smile widened to match Alastor’s grin.

“Morning, Al! Yeah. The chickens were actually fine, but the goats want way more food.” She spread her arms like she was sketching out a rainbow. “We reached a compromise,” she added, reaching down into her bag to present him with the borrowed spellbook. Al gave it a cursory once-over that it seemed to pass – the shadows wrapped around it and ferried it back to one of the half-hidden shelves.

“Last time it took you three days.” Alastor looked at her sideways over his glasses, his grin widening a fraction. “Well done.”

Charlie felt like she was glowing. She beamed back at him.

“Have you got anything new in?” She bounced on her toes. He considered her for several long moments before slipping sideways. She blinked, squinting a little to keep an eye on him.

“Not new, exactly…” He wandered alongside the shelves, running his finger across the spines in his way. After several steps, he stopped, tapping one of them and sliding his finger up to pull it from the shelves. “...I’ve little use for this one,” he announced. He slipped back onto the floor again, holding it out between them. “Go ahead and take it.”

“One-Thousand and One Nights?” Charlie was startled by a smart rap to the top of her head.

“Look,” Alastor instructed. Charlie blinked down at the book, watched the cover waver and melt away.

“Love in All Its Forms.” Charlie wrinkled her nose. “Al, I’m not gonna lie, love spells...kinda have rape-y vibes.” She peeked up at him.

“Well, I’ve memorized the spell for dispelling love.” Alastor’s gaze wandered to the window. Charlie followed his gaze to watch a duck fall out of the sky. She grimaced, hugging the book to her chest. “I’m giving it to you, regardless. May as well see where it takes you, no?”

“...Yeah. Okay.”

“Attagirl!” He cried, clapping her on the back. She summoned another smile, smaller than before. He gave her another once-over. “Would you like a charm for your way home?” He extended a hand. Technically, the answer was yes. Alastor charged pretty steeply for his workings, though, even for her. She’d only brought along enough money to cover the deposit he sometimes charged her for borrowing from the magical library – even that was an indulgence, she was pretty sure, that came out of frequenting the bookstore since she was a kid dangling off her Mom’s hand.

“No, thank you.” She managed to maintain her smile as she pushed his hand back toward him. He hummed, closing his hand. He tilted his head at her.

“Well. Better get along to your father, now.” Her smile widened at the familiar eye roll. “Safe travels, Charlie.”

She waved at him as she departed the store. After a few steps, morbid curiosity drove her to start leafing through the book. She found herself engrossed. The book wasn’t as bad as she’d initially assumed, but it wasn’t super stellar, either – a spell for finding a lost loved one could be great if they were scared of being alone; less great if they were scared of you. That spell Alastor had mentioned, about dispelling love – he was clearly happy knowing it, but Sev was her closest friend, and if she’d used something like this when she was heartbroken, she’d never have known.

This book, like a lot of Alastor’s spellbooks, had notes in the margins. It was in several hands. Charlie imagined it was a student-teacher or parent-child kind of deal, but Alastor had never contributed. For one thing, the first time she’d brought it up to him, he’d complained about it for forty-five minutes, which had been a little hilarious. For another, most of these people wrote in cursive, but Alastor tended to use the same neat print he used for his bookkeeping everywhere. The potion recipe correction that had caught her eye now was done in a flowing cursive. She squinted at it, trying to figure out if it was correcting the measurement or the ingredient itself.

“’Sup, l’il hottie?” Charlie was so glad for the book. It covered her grimace for the few moments before she got her face under control.

“Hi, Adam.” She avoided breaking stride, hoping she could just leave him behind, but he slipped around behind her, grabbing the book as he went. She sucked in a breath, worried and angry, but when she turned to him, he looked about as disinterested as he ever did. “Adam,” she said, carefully calm. “May I have my book, please?”

“Hot and smart, huh?” He waggled his eyebrows at her. She tried not to gag. “Not even one single picture – really?” He flipped through a few more pages. Well, at least that reassured her that he still couldn’t see. There were plenty of diagrams in the book.

“It’s called a chapter book for a reason.” She made herself sound as cheerful as she could. Adam rolled his eyes. She reared back. For just a moment, an intangible wind rippled through her hair.

“Charlie. Babe.” She couldn’t make the wind die down, but either Adam somehow wasn’t seeing it, or he wasn’t noticing how weird it was. “Chapter books have got nothing on reality.” Adam flung the book over his shoulder, and Charlie’s breath caught in her chest. It arched through the air and – Oh God, oh fuck, it didn’t matter if it was a present instead of a loaner, if Alastor ever found out she let one of his books land in the mud he would kill her. “Reality’s got me,” he added, even as Charlie dove past him to rescue the book. He paused a moment, and she thought maybe he would apologize, but then – “God, that ass.”

She shot to her feet, book in hands, glaring at him. At least the wind was getting kind of tangible, so it wasn’t so weird that it was picking up her hair any more. Adam was holding up his hands in surrender, but there was a lazy expression on his face that made her angrier.

“Look, baby. Come on over to the bar, and we can get your book on a nice, safe little table, and I’ll make sure no one uses it as a coaster or anything, and you and me and Lute can all...get to know each other.”

Charlie shuddered. She managed to keep a hold of herself long enough to take a deep breath.

“Maybe some other time,” she lied. Since she’d already dove into the mud, she went ahead and started wiping the mud from the book with the sleeve of her blazer. “Please,” she added. “I gotta go make sure Dad’s all packed.”

“Gotta make sure Loony Luci doesn’t pack three rubber ducks instead of his toothbrush?” Lute quipped, coming up from behind Adam to stand just behind his shoulder. He snickered. All at once, the wind was back.

“Don’t talk about my Dad that way!”

Adam scrambled for a moment, and then turned around to flip Lute off. “Yeah, don’t talk about her fucking Dad that way!”

“My Dad’s not crazy! He’s a genius,” she snarled.

BOOM!

Charlie whipped around, the wind gone again. Smoke was rising from the basement’s open windows.

“Shit!” She took off at a run over the bridge, leaving Adam’s spluttering laughter behind her. It seemed like the cloud was already dissipating as she crested the hill, so she felt safe deciding that the house wasn’t actually on fire, but she didn’t bother slowing down, sliding in the dirt as she stopped in front of the basement doors. She threw them open, recoiling from the smoke.

“Dad?”

“’S okay!” He called back. Through the smoke, she saw him bent double, wheezing. “Just. Did the rubber duck test a little later than planned.”

“Um. That looks. A little...exploded. Are you sure you just put a rubber duck on one end?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, scrubbing a sooty hand through his hair. “I didn’t think it was that dependent on balance, but. Good to know. ‘Cause not everyone’ll use it the same.” He glanced back at the machine. “I’m just glad it didn’t fall apart.”

“It’s a mechanical chef, right?”

“Well. Chef’s being a little generous. It is supposed to kind of automate a kitchen, though.”

“Aw, but cooking is so nice. Why would anyone wanna automate it?” She reached out to poke at the axe on the end of it. Dad caught her wrist with a practiced, gentle hand.

“People with big houses are always doing dumb things with their money, CharChar. What if some little kid inherits a big ol’ chateau and half the staff ditch? She’s not gonna know how to hire more, and the butler will be too busy covering duties to do it for her. So. Lighter load for the butler, more time to hire staff – maybe less staff you gotta hire, too!” He cried. “And it can work in little provincial places, too, for the folks that don’t have as much get-up-and-go as they used to.”

“That’s so sweet.” Charlie clasped her hands together in front of her.

“So the boiler’s dependent on being right where it is…” Dad’s voice lowered until he descended into muttering, circling his contraption.

“Do you need any help to have it ready for tomorrow?”

“No. I shouldn’t, no.” He flapped a hand. After a moment of staring, he crossed his arms, holding onto his chin. “Hand me the – uh – dog-legged clencher...thing, if you don’t mind, actually.” Charlie smiled, rummaging around his tools for a moment until she could pass one to him. He disappeared from view. Charlie watched quietly for a few minutes, but then she looked down at her book. She grabbed a spare rag and began cleaning it carefully, standing it up and separating the pages, just in case.

“Dad?” She almost chickened out at the last second, and she wasn’t entirely sure he could hear her over the sounds of his work.

“Charlie?” He echoed. She was still staring at her book. She considered Alastor’s disinterest in it all. Adam constantly asking to ‘get to know’ her. How she and Sev worked so much better as friends.

“...How’d you and Mom meet?” She wasn’t sure it was what she meant to ask, but it felt right when it came out. The sounds of Dad working stopped, though. The basement was silent for a good few minutes.

“It was at a party,” Dad admitted. “Out in the garden, actually. We both picked the same tree for ‘just needing some air’.”

“When did you know she’d be...Mom?” Charlie waved a hand at the house above them, even though Dad wasn’t looking.

“I realized I couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day ever again.” Dad’s voice was a little thick, and Charlie ducked her head. Silence reigned in the basement again. Dad wiggled his way out from behind the invention and gathered her up in a hug. Charlie was forced to face that this blazer might be a lost cause.

“What brought this on?”

“Nothing,” she lied.

“...You know I’m hoping to get us back out of here with this, right? Maybe back out to the city.” Dad rubbed her arm, but then he straightened, eyes wide. “Do you want that, too? I mean, I know this is where your Mom grew up, and she really liked it here, but I just thought...you always just fit right in there, y’know?”

“I liked the city, Dad.” She promised, smiling. “I miss it a lot. ...I’m a little worried Mom’ll finally come back, and she won’t know where to find us. Y’know?”

“I know,” he whispered, gathering her into another hug. “Alright. I’ll think about it. It only matters if I win, anyway. Right?” He grinned sardonically.

“Which you absolutely will!” Charlie cheered, standing up. “C’mon, Dad, put me in charge of something!”

“Go ahead and hitch up Dazzle, kiddo. I think it only needs a couple more adjustments.”

“Aye aye, Captain!” She gave him a snappy salute before rushing back out up to the stables.

[cinderswrites]

Frayed ::

nine

Theodora’s cottage was beautiful with its intricate swirling wooden details on the window shutters, the door, and the windows on the tower. Large garden stones paved the way to the front door, and there was a small pond off to the right with large cattails waving amongst the reeds. Natural wildflowers grew in abundance, and there was ivy and wisteria creeping up the walls. Inside, it was warm and cozy, filled with all sorts of mysterious things on shelves and bookcases. There were so many things to look at, Rhea’s eyes couldn’t settle on anything specific.

Rhea sat down in one of the plush high back armchairs, something one might find in the palace, she thought. It was comfortable and supported her nicely. She admired the button detailing and ran her hand over the cranberry velvet fabric. Theodora came in carrying a tray with a tall silver teapot and two porcelain cups. “Help yourself, child,” she said as she sat in the other armchair.

“Your cottage is very whimsical,” Rhea commented. “I love it.”

Theodora chuckled, “How else is a sea witch’s cottage supposed to look?”

“Is that what you are? A witch?” she asked innocently though her curiosity was honest.

One half of the old woman’s mouth crooked up in a half smile, “I am what anyone thinks of me. Fairy or nymph, goddess or specter, perhaps a witch.” As she said this, Rhea blinked her eyes several times. Which each word, Theodora’s physical shape changed. Youthful and full of beauty, shining and fading, twisted and old. “Above all, I am one that simply helps and never harms, guides but never directs. I am interested in how you see me, child of the port master.”

Rhea thought of the fairy godmothers in the tales she read as a child and still occasionally did. They were benevolent beings, wanting to help the princess escape her situation. Guiding her to her fate, but never directing her on what to do. Is that what she pictured Theodora as? Rhea looked at the old woman, seeing her the same way as always. Aged and wise, but appearing as non-threatening as any other woman on the street.

“It may sound funny, but in my mind I can’t help but picture the fairy godmothers from the tales of my childhood,” she confessed.

Theodora’s laugh tinkled throughout the cottage, “I am flattered that you think so, Rhea.”

“How, exactly, do you help people?” she asked.

“It depends. Sometimes, it is as simple as blessing a family before a long voyage. Whether or not they believe in the blessing is their choice.”

“Are you saying that you tell them words of empty comfort to give them confidence?” Rhea was shocked.

“I am saying that what people choose to believe absolutely affects their own perceptions,” Theodora deflected. “On the other hand, when it comes to ailments and injuries, I am well versed in apothecary knowledges passed down from the old times. My treatments may border on radical, but they are effective. I carry knowledge lost to time.”

“And you don’t ask for anything in return?”

“I am not here on this physical plane to gain anything, dear child. I am here to help, as I have said. What use are riches or spoils to someone like myself? What use is trying to achieve the highest wealth, because more often than not, once you are at the top, the only way is down.”

Theodora never raised her voice above a normal speaking level, and the manner in which she talked was calm and informative, like a school teacher. Yet her words sent a spine chilling shiver through Rhea, sounding a lot like a bad omen. She shifted in her seat, reaching to take a drink of her cooled tea. “Are you saying that people at the top, the wealthiest and most successful, are doomed to ruin?”

“No,” the old woman said bluntly. “If you lose sight of the reason for the climb, you are bound to make a mistake and fall.”

“That’s pretty damning,” Rhea scoffed. “And not very fairy godmother of you.”

Theodora laughed again, “I apologize, child. It has been some time since I have had an interesting conversation such as this.”

“Are you able to see the future at all? Because at the house you said something about my fate.”

“Are you curious to know if anything changed?”

“Well, yes, but I’m also interested in the answer to my question.”

Theodora crossed her legs folding her hands over them as she leaned back a little, looking up at the ceiling. “I do not see anything specific. It is more of a feeling. That day a week ago, when we were standing together, I felt the thread of your fate tied up in a knot. How it would be up to you to unravel it, or keep twisting it until your life thread diminished completely.”

Rhea considered her words for a few quiet seconds. “And what about now?”

The woman focused her icy blue eyes on the other, blinking slowly. Rhea thought she saw her eyes flick back and forth in subtle almost imperceptible motions. “It is… uncertain, but more clear. I see several paths the knot has unraveled towards. One is rather… short.”

Rhea’s breath hitched in her throat.

“The others have their own webs they are spinning. One is laced with poison.”

“Poison?” she whispered.

Theodora blinked several times as if erasing the image of the threads. “Yes, poison. It seems you have some difficult ordeals ahead of you.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, Rhea appeared small and vulnerable as she thought about what the woman told her. She thought of the king when she heard the word “poison”. Looking over at Theodora, she asked, “Are you able to see other traces of… magic? Or something like that?”

“Where did you sense this magic?”

Rhea sighed and once again recalled the visit at the palace and what King Gareth had said. “I’m scared for him, Theodora. I want to help and I don’t know how.”

“What lies ahead is not for the faint of heart, Rhea,” Theodora said gravely. “I believe you. I have sensed a darkness in the king for some time now.”

“And you haven’t helped him?” Rhea’s voice was distraught. “I thought that’s what you do!”

She smiled a sad smile, “My child, my abilities are limited to those who want help. Whatever is afflicting the king is something I cannot touch, not physically or otherwise. I have said before, I am what anyone thinks of me. If the king thinks of me as the enemy, I cannot help.”

Rhea deflated in the chair. “So what can I do? I’m a nobody. I don’t even know why I’m a part of this.”

“Fate has a funny way of doing that. Perhaps something higher has deemed you worthy of this challenge.”

“Are you speaking of a god?”

“No, but if it is what you believe, you are free to think so.”

Rhea groaned, “My heavens, woman, you speak round and round in such riddles!”

“I apologize, Rhea.”

She sighed, “No, it’s not your fault.” She ran her hand over her head, accidentally untying the ribbon. It fell to the floor.

Theodora was quick to pick it up. As she touched it, she froze. Her fingers stroked the fabric for a few seconds before the rest of her seemingly came to life and she passed it over. “A gift from your late mother?” she asked.

Rhea took it and held it in her hands, looking at her warily. “Yes… how do you know that?”

“It seems you have your own sort of magic running through you, my child.”

Goosebumps rose on Rhea’s arms. “W-what do you mean?”

“Do you know what an undine is?” Theodora asked.

Rhea was thoroughly confused, “A sort of nymph, right?”

“A water spirit, yes. It seems your mother was one.”

“W-wait, my mother? How can you—“

Theodora gestured to the ribbon. “That right there is filled with your mother’s love for you, child. It showed me a lot of things, and most of it was how she came to have you.”

“Why would a water spirit fall in love with a human?” she was skeptical.

“For many reasons, the most predominant one being a soul. Undines do not possess a soul, in order to do so, they must fall in love with a human man and have his child. The unfortunate effect of doing that shortens the undine’s natural life by hundreds of years.”

“My mother… she died so suddenly. One day, she became sick, and a month later she was gone,” Rhea whispered. “I had no idea.”

Theodora nodded sympathetically, “A tragedy, but what a beautiful thing was born from it.” Rhea suddenly felt bashful, a small smile tugging at her lips. “If I recall correctly, undine offspring usually bear a mark of their birth. Do you have such a mark?”

Rhea shook her head.

The older woman gestured for her hand and Rhea leaned over, stretching out her left arm. Theodora ran her thin warm fingers up her arm, twisting it lightly so her wrist was facing up. “Ah, here,” she said softly as her fingers touched a spot just below her thumb and wrist. The sea witch whispered words foreign to Rhea’s ears.

Rhea watched as mystical drops of water lifted from her skin, swirling into the air between them and dissipating slowly. Somewhere inside of her, as she watched this, she felt something unfold, whispering in her ears a song she knew but didn’t remember. A heat as fluid and silky as a sun-warmed spring on a summer’s day washed over her, filling her with feelings of love and trust. What was left behind on her skin was a glaringly crimson splotch of color, undefined but almost resembling a lily.

“What… what just happened to me?” Rhea asked, lifting her other hand to rub at her forehead.

“It seems something that was sealed away inside has now been set free,” Theodora leaned back in her seat. “You asked for help earlier, and what you can do to help the king. You should be able to look inside yourself and find those answers.”

“But where do I start? With whom? I can’t go around accusing just anyone of dark magic.”

Theodora met her eyes again, and Rhea realized she was feeling for the threads of fate within her again. “I see… it seems the threads have twisted in a different way. The person responsible for this crime has multiple threads as well. One intertwines with yours. Perhaps there are more people involved than we have thought.”

“Intertwines with mine? Does it involve me, or my family in some way?”

“You are the port master’s daughter. The port master himself is rather important in this town, would you agree?” Theodora asked.

“Yes, he oversees the imports and exports…” Rhea trailed off. “You don’t think something dangerous is being imported? That whoever it is wants to cloud the king’s judgment so he doesn’t know what’s going on?”

“I think that someone who has influence with the king and your father must be someone important.”

Rhea sat back in the chair again, thinking it over. Someone important, so it must be a noble? Someone with connections to her father and the king… she couldn’t think of anyone specific. “I’ll have to find a way to figure this out,” she said determinedly.

“I wish you luck, my child. It is getting on in the evening. I believe you should start heading back to avoid being caught out at night.” Theodora stood up and took the tray back to her kitchen.

Rhea followed after her, hovering at the door for a moment. “Theodora… I know I’ve asked a lot of you today, and you’ve helped me tremendously.”

“What’s on your mind?”

“I was wondering… among the threads… you wouldn’t have happened to see one of love, would you?”

Theodora regarded her silently as her hands idly washed the teacups. “There was one, yes.”

“What of it?”

“It is deeply twisted in every knot of possibility. I would say how you proceed from here in your path to help the king greatly affects that specific thread. In some directions, it ends. In others, it continues on endlessly. And in a few, it seems to specifically cut off your life thread.” Theodora’s words were quiet and solemn, hinting at the seriousness of what she spoke of.

Rhea’s throat went dry and she gulped audibly, simply nodding. “Thank you again,” she said as she left. She had a lot to think of on her journey home.

***

Quick A/N: I will be taking a few weeks to rebuild my buffer and finish a draft on my other project!

[joz-yyh]

Day 3: Overcome / Vanity 🪞🕸️ (Inspired by the song: Mirror ft. Henri Werner, Krysta Youngs)

Part of my Occult AU -- In celebration of Halloween, Ichigo and friends decide that it would be a spooky good time to visit Urahara's Antique Shop and buy a "cursed object," to see if any of the old myths are true.

You’ll Find A Rough Script About This AU Under The Cut!

The plan is that each one of his classmates is supposed to choose an object from the shop and "try out" their own ritual at home and then report back the following day to see if the spell was legit or not.

While browsing the menagerie of oddities, Ichigo comes across an old hand mirror among the dusty, cluttered shelves and is instantly drawn to it.

"What did you pick, Kurosaki-kun," Orihime asks, her arms clasped behind her back. The boy shows off the ornate mirror to the redhead, her cute blushing face reflected back at her. "Oh, pretty,” She giggles, “Somehow, I get a creepy feeling from it." “Then, I am definitely buying this one. Thanks,” Ichigo smirks, heading towards the counter where Urahara is keeping a trained eye on him.

That night while examining the mirror, Ichigo finds a hidden scroll inside the handle. He waits til 3:33am as per the instructions, looks into the mirror and speaks the incantation aloud. Minutes pass, he tries the words again (maybe he mispronounced something), but nothing happens.

He goes to bed disappointed, but what Ichigo fails to realize is that he actually did summon Shiro. The white demon is hiding in the mirror, watching silently, keeping his presence a secret. Shiro takes his time haunting the organette day by day. Sometimes, Icihigo will hear a crack, like something breaking, or thump of something falling, but he can never pinpoint what it is because everything looks normal when he goes to check.

Sometimes, shadows creatures will pass across the walls in his house. Sometimes, things move or disappear. Sometimes, Ichigo catches a pale image of himself in the rain, in the glass of a window. He thinks that it's all just his mind playing tricks.

Yuzu is getting really unnerved by all these shenanigans. Karin thinks it's cool that their house is haunted now.

Isshin, who is more spiritually inclined than his son at this point, starts to notice something is amiss and asks Ichigo if he's sensed anything out of the ordinary.

Icihigo denies it and keeps the mirror wrapped up and hidden in a drawer.

As the end of October nears, Ichigo’s friends are still investigating curses and once again visit Urahara's shop. "Have you been getting enough sleep, kid,” Urahara asks, “You don't look so good." Ichigo nearly screams in terror at the feeling of the man’s hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, I am fine,” he says, quickly smoothing over his reaction, “All this ghost stuff is kinda making me jumpy.”

“Haha, I guess so,” the shopkeeper laughs, a cryptic edge to his voice, “Though, I must say I am surprised that no one in your little group has been able to conjure up a real life ghost yet. I guess all these ancient relics are nothing, but junk afterall. Sorry kid, no refunds.”

Later that night, Ichigo hears a voice calling out to him and he freaks out when he discovers that the source is coming from inside the mirror.

Shiro has been feeding on the boy's fear and has built up enough vitality that he can finally reveal himself and explain what's been going on.

The demon tells the boy that he could not have been summoned without a powerful psychic, one he’s compatible with and that once summoned, he can travel anywhere so long as there's reflective surface around.

He assures Ichigo that he can only take life energy from the one who invoked his services so, his family and friends are safe.

He continues to tell the teen that he's almost strong enough to leave the glass prison that he's been stuck in, that he just needs a little more (a kiss) and he'll be set free. (and here is where the the art comes in so, this is where I am ending it for now. I hope you enjoyed reading up to this point. If I ever find the time, I might flesh this out into a full-fledged fic).

[nonokoko13]

Maybe twilight needed to adopt 2 children for his mission to look like a normal family. That's when Child! reader comes in. Since Twilight is a spy, Anya a psychic, Yor an assassin. Why not have a robot child? So the reader is a robot that can change their appearance. Robot reader will look a normal 10 year old. But it's odd that Anya can read reader's min since they're a robot. I just want fun headcannons of child robot reader and the Forger family! (You don't have to do this, it's just an idea I wanted to get out of my head haha.)

I hate how much I love this idea, thank you anon, now I need a robot kid in the series and since we're not getting it I have to write about it, shame on you!/j thanks for the idea anon 💖

Sorry for the late reply, hope you like it as much as I did writing it. Did you know that the engineer Leonardo Torres and Quevedo built the first truly autonomous machine capable of playing chess in 1912 and the term "robot" was invented in the 20s? The concept per se was already around before in the ancient ages and stories like The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (1900) so it's no so unlikely to put a robot in the series as it may look like

I haven't checked up yet so sorry for any mistakes. If you want more like this just ask!

Forgers x robot!child reader 🤖

Tw: None. A bit long though

GN!Reader

───── ❖ ─────

✧ Another day in the Forger residence went by as normal when Anya saw an ad about the oncoming Science Exposition in Berlint's Science Museum. Anya asked her parents if they could go; which both Loid and Yor agreed to, deciding they would go in their day off

✧ Tables turned when Loid had to scape of his family to do a mission once again, leaving the ladies and Bond alone with some excuse that somehow Yor believed

✧ During the event Anya needed to make a stop to go to the bathroom, so Yor and Bond waited for her outside

✧ That's when she heard something weird among all the thoughts and exit the girls' bathroom without being seen

✧ Following two men she found a back door and went in what she thought it would be a short adventure. Only a few minutes, she would be back before Ma starts worrying–she thought— just a little peek

✧ Anya entered and discovered it gave directly to some kind of big haunted store. Pa told her those were *water-houses where people keep things that aren't exposed or were *"deaf-eggtive". Weird name for a place where they don't keep water

*the words are warehouse and defective, Anya sometimes has trouble with spelling sometimes lol

✧ The little sper walked through the endless corridors until an invention caught her eye. Cute, funny kid-sized creatures with big eyes who looked as if they were asleep. They were the toys "robofriends" they had seen in the Con!

✧ Footsteps near where she was scared Anya, who hid behind some boxes. There, the men she saw before would talk about their plans without being aware of the little presence

✧ Anya finds out that within the freelancers the small group that owns the robofriends is a front to develop ilegal technological weapons. Those were the first step to create high tech weapons, including advanced robot soldiers

✧ The exposed ones were simply toys to pass the general review by the government

"Isn't it soon to sell them? I mean, some are in their early stages" "Well, these are the most functional result of all the previous works, but as long as it sells I don't care. With how much the rich spend on bullshit for their kids we'll have enough to finance our plan, then we'll sell them to whoever pays more and blame those toymakers for it" "Ok, let's take this batch and activate them before replenishing the shelves"

✧ Anya was shocked, she had to get out of there and warn Pa! But how?

✧ As they talked she saw a bunch of numbers and letters appear in their minds. That could stop the robots? Or will it be dangerous to use it?

✧ Once they disappeared Anya came out of her hiding in such a hurry that she tripped over one of the boxes, falling to the ground

✧ Not sure why, but said robot started moving its legs without standing up, just like a character when it keeps trying to walk while being stuck in a wall in videogames

✧ The noises caught the men attention, who were coming back to the place the sound was coming from. Panicking, Anya tried to shut it down; usually Bondman would have to insert the code in a secret panel –there it was!– But, it seemed like a calculator, no letters, just numbers and symbols

✧ With no options left, she wrote what the men thought in the panel, but nothing happened. Why it didn't work?!? Oh-did she has to use that phrase?

✧ After clumsily saying it... Nothing happened. DAMMIT

✧ One of the bad guys found her just when she was trying to scape. Anya screamed him to let her go when a strange metallic "Required activation code confirmed. Displaying order", followed by the man thrown against the wall, unconscious

✧ Everything happened in an instant, leaving Anya confused, only to see you standing between her and the bad guys. Are you... a good robot?

✧ The sper discovered Twilight's mission was brought by the suspicion of an illegal weapons' sale at the Expo, which turned to be true since it led him and the SSS to the group behind the robofriends

✧ All the robots were going to be retrieved but the chief pulled out a self-destruction plan, claiming that they prefer to destroy their own work and allies that let the government nor any other organization make profit of it, leaving only death and scrap behind them

✧ Fortunately, Anya could disable the self-destruction mode you had. With you telling her every step in order to do so, but oh well, let her savor the victory

✧ After a day full of action and misunderstandings, with Yor and Loid being involved in the problem, the family reunited once again. Yor had to go through the whole place until she found Anya, for which the latter apologized

✧ She hid your identity from them, fearing you would have to taken away or die. This would have been your ending if it wasn't because the creator/s underestimated their creation: they were so smart that unintentionally made you autodidact

✧ With seeing Twilight changing his face once you learned how to imitate human skin and look like a kid. Changing your high, metallic pitch was more difficult, but it was only a matter of entering through your system and play with the wires until you made up a seemingly-natural voice, piece of cake

✧ With some lies about your origin as a homeless orphan and a lot of crying from Anya her parents decided to give you a chance. Welcome to the Forgers!

Now, onto the general headcanons:

✧ Loid and Yor have several problems with you. Since they adopted you they have never see you eat, only going to the table to take your plate to your room and return it completely empty, which leads them to think you are uncomfortable when others watch you

✧ Yor is relieved that you're eating all. Furthermore, you're the only one who eats her food! And every time she asks you how it was you say it was good, which makes her really happy. Loid thinks you're either lying or you went through a malnutrition or some rough childhood and now your taste buds tolerate anything

✧ Still, when Loid infiltrated in Eden after your adoption he didn't see you with any lunch at the cafeteria or accepting other kids snacks, which started to worry him until you started buying something and go to the restrooms to eat it. He wonders what you're so insecure about, and decides he might need to give you therapy or talk about it, but at least it's a beginning haha as if

✧ Another thing is, you didn't like water, always avoiding contact with it. It seemed you just needed to get used to, because months later you were playing outside in rainy days

✧ Little they know you discovered fake human skin protect your system from water, although you are trying to find methods to make your whole armor water-proof

✧ And you seemed to not have had a social interaction in your life. It felt as if you were born yesterday, but you quickly became aware of basic social skills. Worth to say, your references were the Forgers, so perhaps you are far away from "normal social interactions"... Or anything normal really

✧ Anya thinks it's pretty cool to have a brother. At first she thought you were one of the bad guys, but then you looked after her during the "robot army arc" and she wondered if you had feelings too, which is why she thinks you are like her: both have something your species don't, that's why you understand each other so well!

✧ Whether you actually have feelings or just seem to project them it's something I'll let you to your imagination

✧ Bond likes you! It's unsure whether he gets you're not human despite acting and looking like one, you know, since he is a dog. But he is smart enough to see you "work differently", and he has your back whenever you need him!

✧ However, as much as Anya can read minds yours was one of a experience. The first time she read it she almost fainted. Your "thoughts" are an incessant thread of numbers, equations and letters that translate into actions or sentences once you talk/act upon them, but for her it's like all you think is math

✧ It makes her easier to find you when you disappear though, all she has to do is read the atmosphere. When she hears something like "3(27 – 21) = 81 – 63 = 18. 0100 0001 100110101 || 100110101 + 11010101 =1000001010" there you are! Though she avoids reading your mind unless it's necessary because she gets headaches worse than with crowds

✧ When you're malfunctioning and you start trembling they have different thoughts. Depending on the situation people may think you're nervous or scared or you need to go to the bathroom. Loid starts theorizing possible disorders or spectrums you may be developing after "connecting the dots" he hasn't connected shit

✧ Yor gets worried as well but she imagines you're different from other kids she has met and her lack of a reference from what is usual she relies in what Loid acts about it and wholeheartedly believes you are perfect the way you are. Remember she has raised Anya and Yuri, neither of them gets what common sense is like regarding a kid

✧ For Anya is either funny or makes her pity you/your parents. Nobody even phantom the idea you are a robot, except if it's as a joke, like, how could it be? there's no way, it's ridiculous

✧ And then you think this is smartest race on earth who think they would spot on an anomaly like a alien invasion or can spot transgender people from a cisgender person if they came across with one. If you have feelings you must have good laughs with humanity

───── ❖ ─────

[fearsome-series]

BOOK ONE

Chapter One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nin

The creature and the wolfman were fighting.

The creature was an old friend to Laura - a companion when she was bored and in a car going through some place in the middle of nowhere with poor reception; sometimes a black dog, sometimes a blue fleshy dog-lizard thing, always fast, always a good distraction from the tree, tree, field, farm, cow, cow, field, tree, cow cycle of rural travel. Or at least he was; her mind’s eye was a bit too crowded now. A bit too concerned about the world and everything to fall for the old trick of rotating a monster in her mind.

The wolfman was new and snarling, paw raised, claws out, frozen in wood - a sculpture in someone’s front yard. The paw looked less like a threat and more like he was waving. Laura stared into its dark wooden eyes for a moment, as the imaginary car-running-creature that once kept her mind so occupied faded out into fuzz. When her parents started driving again, she waved back.

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

FEARSOME

#1: The Beast

Chapter One

She woke up when they got to the house - two stories, painted a so-very-respectable white, with a metal shed off in the backyard, towards the treeline - and somehow her feet took her up the front steps and through the clean kitchen and up the steps to her room, but she didn’t have any part in that, near as she could tell. Next she knew, she was upstairs.

Laura paced around her room for the weekend, the life drained from her bones. The hours of travel felt like years, felt like a whole lifetime passing by and whittling her away to just a skeleton and then, at last, skeleton dust. Bone dust. She sighed. This place sucked. It was too nice. No one lived here, but that no one wanted too hard for it to feel like someone lived there, you know? Laura looked out the little window, like a zoo animal looking out between the bars; but instead of seeing goofy faces goggling back at her, she saw all the sights of a rental home in the country: trees, grass, some tiny bird. Excitement. She flopped her messenger bag onto the bed and walked downstairs.

Her father, Chris, stood by the fridge, his face scrunched up as he considered the shelves inside, his thin mustache jumping to attention.

“Where’s mom?” Laura asked.

“In town,” Chris said.

“Which town?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “One of the good ones. You hungry?”

“Kinda.”

“Hi hungry, I’m...hungry too.” He waved at the empty fridge. “Ad said they’d leave it stocked for us. But it’s empty. Bit dirty, too. Heather’s getting a pizza and a few groceries.”

“So we’re, uh, swimming tomorrow, right?”

“We’re going to the lake, but we don’t have to swim if you don’t want to.”

“I know how to swim, dad.” She was nervous, largely on account of being trans at a beach out of the city, and…no, mainly on that account.

“I know you know, but I don’t know if you don’t want to.”

“Uh…”

“We aren’t gonna make you swim.”

“Thanks, but I’m going to try. ‘cause why not try?”

“Laur, you don’t have to try things just to try things. There’s lots of things you shouldn’t try.”

“Yeah, but. Life is short and all that.”

“Laur, you’re fifteen.”

“So I should try things when I’m young and dumb enough to do them.”

“Laur, if all your friends were going to do a daring daredevil jump over the Grand Canyon, would you do it?”

“Yeah? That sounds really cool.”

“It does, yeah. But you don’t have to try things that won’t make your friends think you’re fun and cool.”

“But I should do things that make them think I’m fun and cool.”

“Depends on the thing.”

“Pretending to like bands.”

“Never.”

“Big complicated heists at, like, a Vegas casino.”

“Not ‘til after college.”

“Swimming.”

“Only if you want to.”

“And I…and I think I want to. I want to. I want to go swimming tomorrow,” Laura said.

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

Dinner was a stuffed deep dish pizza from somewhere called Rosati’s; veggie, as always (though when it came to pizzas without meat, her favorite was the mac-and-cheese pizza at this one place back home) – Laura picked off some of the green peppers before biting in.

“...so we’ll leave for the beach around 10 tomorrow,” her mom, Heather, said.

“Last weekend of the season,” dad added.

Heather carefully wiped off her greasy hands on a napkin. “Laura, was there anything you wanted to do this weekend?”

She dropped a chunk of pepper. “I...oh. Uh, I don’t really know what’s around here. We could like, go out in the woods or something.”

“I’m not sure we can go back there,” mom said. “But we could go hiking at Big Foot Beach.”

“Yeah. Better than the woods anyway,” dad added.

“You want me to get back to nature, though,” Laura said.

“Nature can be pretty ugly, y’know. Lots of ticks.”

“How do you know there’s not ticks in here? And mosquitoes and, like, spiders.”

“Spiders are good, Laur. They eat all the ticks.”

“Oh, I just remembered, on Sunday we were going to Big Foot Beach, weren’t we?” Mom said.

“Think so.”

“Tomorrow afternoon we have that boat tour, and we’ll have dinner somewhere local…”

“Weren’t we going to that place by the lake? Popeye’s?”

“That was for lunch.”

“The…chicken store?” Laura asked.

“No, they have their own Popeye’s. It’s by the lake.”

“And they don’t have chicken.”

“No. Though now that I think about it, are they vegetarian? Looked like a bunch of fish.”

“We can eat fish, we’re on vacation,” mom said.

“No vacation for the fish.”

“Fish aren’t…”

“Animals?”

“They’re…”

“...down there in the water and when we bring them up into the sun they don’t know what’s going on. They don’t know who’s plucking them out of the world. A chicken at least stares their murderer in the eye first.”

Mom laughed. “How big is this chicken?”

“Yeah, cool,” Laura tore off a piece of her pizza and tossed it in her mouth. In her pocket, her phone buzzed. “Uh...I have to run to the bathroom, be right back.”

She hurried up there. Closed the door. Checked what her friend said…

PUZZLE KEY CHALLENGE: DOUBLE GEM HOUR STARTS NOW!

She sighed. Went back downstairs.

In the living room, their dog, Laika, a Newfoundland, was looking out the window, having taken over the sofa here like she always did at home. “What are you looking at?” The dog looked back at her. Tilted her head. “I don’t speak dog. I don’t know what look and tilt means.” She crawled onto the sofa. Looked out the window. Nothing, but -

Laika barked. Right by her right ear. “Laika!” She jumped off, ducked into the dining room. “Hey, Laika seems kinda…” Kinda...kinda...kinda…

“Restless?” Her dad suggested.

“Yeah! I was thinking I could take her outside.”

“Okay, but be back in before it gets dark. And don’t go into the trees.”

“What if she really wants to go into the trees and she’s too strong for me and she takes me along with her? Into the trees?”

“Well, just try not to let the trees claim you, y’know? Put in a good effort.”

“Thanks,” she said, rushing to grab Laika’s leash and step outside.

It was quiet. Laura normally walked Laika in the city, so walking her when there was nothing around was...weird. It was weird. Laika tugged towards the backyard, and Laura spun around and followed her. Back there, there was only a shed (locked with a padlock), grass, and...the trees. It was sunset, and the shed was bathed in the evening rays of orange, the last little fragment of the day before the coming of night.

“Don’t take me beyond the trees. Something’s gonna happen if I go beyond the trees.”

Laika sat down in the grass. Fixed her gaze on the treeline.

“Do you see anything? Anything? Do you see a tick? Do you see a tick crawling up my leg? Do you see a tick crawling up my leg and biting me and giving me Lyme Disease? Do you?”

Laika barked.

“Is there...a dog or something? Big dog, small dog?”

Bark, bark, BARK.

And Laika turned around and tugged back towards the house; Laura seized the leash with her other hand and held on tight as she raced back up the stairs. “Laika! You aren’t even going to pee?”

Laika scratched at the door; Laura freed up one hand and opened it. The dog raced back inside; Laura staggered back to the dining room, picked off some more green pepper chunks, and ate some more pizza.

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

Bottom left, bottom right, top left, top right. Dark.

Top right. Light.

Behind the shed. Watch. Watch the light.

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

Laura ran her hands down her face. Groaned a bit. Still couldn’t sleep. She grabbed her phone off the stack of things she’d left on the floor; she opened her texts. Considered sending a message to Manuel (last message 5:41 PM, Friday) or Summer (last message 7:22 PM, Thursday). Checked the time. 1:04 AM. Yikes. Then she saw the battery. 12%. Forgot to charge it again. Before she forgot, again, she quickly put it on the charger on the one free outlet across the room

She sighed. Rifled through the closet. There were some magazines stacked on a box. Vogue, The Atlantic, The Economist. Boring bullshit. Buried underneath them all, she found a magazine called Fangoria with a vampire lady on the front. BARBARA CRAMPTON BRINGS JAKOB’S WIFE TO BLOODY LIFE.

She paged through it. Past photos of a cyclopean alien with exposed brains and a vampire woman with two long front fangs and a bloody face. And…

She set the magazine down. She’d left the blinds open. She’d left the blinds open and she left the window open. Okay, it was the second floor, who cares? But for one second, she thought she heard...something. Something like...a dog. A growl. Laika?

She got up. Looked out the window.

Nothing but some trees.

Alright, stop scaring yourself and get to sleep, she thought. She tossed aside the magazine, and thirty seconds later, was lights out.

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

“You okay down there?”

“Yes, dad,” said Laura, not okay; it was a sunny late summer day, one of the last good days of the season dontcha know, and all around Laura people were going for a swim, going out on boats, playing in the sand. The beach wasn’t that big, and had trees on one side; at the far end was a large brown building with a reddish tile roof.

“We’ll be right back, Laur,” mom said, “stay right here, okay?”

“Okay? Okay. Yeah.”

Good for them, she thought, but she was stuck sitting on this little blanket on the sand and looking at everyone else having a good time around her. Once her parents were gone, she picked up her phone. 

Navigated her contacts.

DAD

MANUEL

MOM

SUMMER

SUMMER’S GF

Are you on the beach yet? :)

          SO BORED

So you are at the beach then

          Did anything happen here

          Anything

          You know every dark secret of every town here

          Are there any here

Well Dungeons & Dragons was invented there

          That’s not a dark secret

It was if you were one of those people convinced the devil invented it in the 80s

          But I mean a dark dark secret

          A unsolved murder

          Cultic rites

          Idk people going missing

Gangsters used to go there in the 1920s!

Baby Face Nelson was seen there the day he died

          Wow

          He died here?

Oh no, he was seen there. He died later on in Illinois

          So you’ve got nothing

Nope :( Sorry

          Don’t be

          What are YOU up to

          Hanging out with Cameron

I actually haven’t heard from him in a few days.

          With Emily

We don't hang out outside school and she is with Alice anyway

           Is Alice that like

           Country chick with the jacket

           Who was weird to me

           outside of queer club once

           Why the hell do they hang out???

I don't get it either

I'm up to nothing! I am just inside today

It does seem nice out but I do not know if it’s the type of warm that feels uncomfortable

           100% is

           Stay inside

           Save yourself!

Her parents still weren’t back. She looked around. Looked for anyone who was looking at her. They all would, wouldn’t they? Snooty people from the suburbs and wherever the hell else, they didn’t want her on the beach. She could almost see them - that lounging woman, shooting a glare up from her book, the two boys making a sand castle pointing, laughing…

She quickly texted Summer.

          Do you ever go swimming

Yeah?

          In public

Hell no

          My parents took me to a beach 😭

          Since it’s ‘the last day of the season’

          “You can swim” YEAH AND NO

Did you tell em you won’t

          No?

See that’s like

The first thing you do

Is tell them how you feel

          Why do I have to TELL people things

          Can’t they just figure it out

          Piece together the vibes

They can’t like

Smell your damn emotions

You’ve gotta use your words

          No

“Laura?”

Heather and Christian circled around a woman on a blanket reading a James Patterson book; Christian knelt down on the blanket and looked her over.

“You don’t wanna go out on the lake, huh?”

“...not really,” she said. “I don’t…I don’t feel comfortable swimming. Or, like, being around everyone, you know?”

“Alright, kid,” Chris said. “How about we go for a walk along the shore?”

They picked up the blanket and walked off.

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

Laura hadn’t been to the group before, not in freshman year, but she decided to check out the first one of this year because…why not? Manuel was trans, and so was Summer, and Summer’s girlfriend…Claire?...was gay, so maybe they’d go with her.

They did not, and Laura spent the group kinda just sitting there, not saying much, though a lot of people were there and not saying much. Some of the people in her school’s queer group had more problems, after all, like not being supported at home instead of just not being supported by society as a whole. Laura said her name, her pronouns, then kinda…looked at people, ‘til the group ended.

Outside of the LGBT group, in the hallway up front by the doors and first cafeteria, the one with the big windows looking out, and knowing her dad wouldn’t be by for a while, she picked out someone to shuffle up and say hi to: someone with short-cut green hair and a old, dark blue Air Force jacket covered in buttons, about which she knew, uh, that they were Steph, they/them.

“Hi…?” Laura said.

“Uh, hi,” Steph said, sliding their phone in their jacket’s pockets. “You’re…”

“Laura.”

“Laura.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Alice asked, walking down the stairs; she was tall and lanky, white with tanned skin and scuffed boots, a red jacket, light brown hair with neatly-trimmed bangs and a cross necklace bouncing around her neck.

“Why do you care?” Steph replied.

“You can’t be around them!” Alice pointed at Laura. “Stop thinking you can.”

“I can be around whoever I want.”

“Well, you can do what you like, but you have to know you can’t change what you are. Or…can’t change when the time will come!”

“What, like, the Rapture or something?” Laura laughed. “Hey, Alice, you should-”

“No! I mean - Steph, you know what I mean.”

“Gotta go, Lyra,” Steph said. “Maybe I’ll see you next time.”

“Yeah. It’s…it’s Laura…” Laura said, watching them leave. “Oh, and uh, how about you…how about you…” She couldn’t remember the comeback she thought up late. Nice.

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

Wind howled, tree branches raking the roof like shrill claws. Laura wasn’t listening too closely: for she was engaged in a higher task - finding a spot where she could use her phone. It’d been fine earlier, but right after she got back, the signal died.

Sitting on her chair, no. Standing on it, no. Bed, no. Desk, no. Sitting on the desk and leaning back over the perilous void?

One bar.

She frantically texted her friends.

          SO BORED, WTF DO I DO

Manuel replied immediately.

What’s going on? Are you still at the beach? Is Laika being good??? Pet her for me!

Laura texted back. Sent. Couldn’t send. No service. Fine! She pounded the desk in rage, leaned back more. Waved her phone in search of even one -

Tumbled into the abyss. Oof. Her phone bounced off the floorboards next to her. She snatched it up cleanly...a second after it hit a second time and came to a halt. No damage. No bars, but no damage.

“You okay in there?” Her father called out from the doorway.

“No, I’m dead.” She kept lying in the space between the desk and chair.

“Ahuh. Doing a lot of breathing for a dead woman.”

“That can happen sometimes.” For lack of any other ideas, Laura just laid there a while.

“Well, at least you’re having fun. D’you want a book?”

“I guess.”

“I’d like to find a book too. I didn’t bring any and the guy who owns the place must’ve bought all the books for show.”

“They’re fake?”

“No, just boring. Unless you want to read a buncha car repair manuals and a…” He held up a thick tome. “...complete history of concrete.”

“No?”

“Ahuh.” Her dad walked back to the main room. As the door swung shut, she heard barks and radio static filtering from downstairs. Might as well join them, Laura thought, reluctantly coming to life.

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

A scratchy classical track ended, and then -

“Is it for your…?” Mom asked; dad shushed.

“This Sunday on All That We Know,” said the woman who announced the show dad produced, “we talk with…”

“Someone not sad?” Laura whispered.

“...an embedded reporter about war crimes in Ukraine. Also, a team who believed they had the cure for cancer - before it all came crashing down. This Sunday on All That We Know, from NPR and Wisconsin Public Radio.”

“Dad,” Laura asked. “Do you ever have any not-depressing news on your show?”

“Laur, there hasn’t been any not-depressing news since Clinton was President. You know that.”

“Yeah…but also…”

“You used to interview tech people a lot,” mom said.

“Yeah. Guys who had the solution to all the world’s problems.”

“Wasn’t the solution always cryptocurrency?”

“Nope, sometimes it was NFTs or the metaverse.”

Heather switched off the radio. Laura glanced around the home: Chris was focusing intently on a book with no jacket, Heather was just generally pacing, and Laika was being her usual lazy self on the floor.

Laura knelt by the dog and pet her head. “That’s from Manuel.”

Laika pressed on with her aimless flopping.

Laura sat crisscross on a table. Uncomfortable, but she knew she could text here; she shot one to Summer. 

Bored.

          KINDA DISTRACTED SORRY

WITH WHAT?

          I’M UH PLAYING VIDEO GAMES

YOU PUT THE UH IN A TEXT

NO ONE DOES THAT

WHY ARE WE IN CAPS ANYWAY

          I’M PLAYING ELDER RING

          THE DAMN

          SLEAZE TROLL SHOWED UP WHEN I CROSSED THE NETHER FJORD

          OR WHATEVER TF

          OKAY LATER BYE!!!

ELDEN

IT’S ELDEN

No reply.

Shit.

“How is there no service here? There was before we left.” Laura asked.

“Someone breathed on the tower funny,” Chris replied.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” Heather said. “For us to disconnect, get away from the screens. Don’t you think so?”

Laura noticed her dad’s book. “You found a book.”

“Yep, it’s great, this page I’ve been on for the last five minutes is really interesting.”

Heather looked at its nameless cover. “What’s it about?”

Chris looked up from his book and scowled. “...I don’t remember.”

Laika barked. Laura jumped.

“Think she’s bored?” Chris asked no one.

“Can I take her for a walk?” Laura asked.

“I heard there’s going to be a storm in an hour.” Heather said.

“What dog walk takes an hour? Laika doesn’t even chase squirrels. Or bears, or wolves.”

“Don’t have to worry about bears or wolves down here,” Christian said.

“If you want to walk her, alright, but stay close,” Heather answered.

“Where would we go? We’ll be fine, mom.”

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

“Do you think I could take a bear?”

Laika barked.

“You just have to make yourself look big, right? ...you’re probably bigger than I am. God.”

Laika growled gently.

“I should’ve told mom and dad I wasn’t up for swimming. Like, before they booked a lake house. …twenty minutes from the lake. But I don’t want to do nothing ‘cause I’m afraid of doing it because of being trans, y’know? …no you don’t, you’re a dog. You don’t have genders. Or do you have dog gender? What are those -”

Laika tugged forcefully on the leash.

Laura finally broke from her rambling and realized that she was surrounded by trees; she looked over her shoulder and could see the home well obscured by branches.

“Laikaaaa! Laika! Stop dragging me into the woods. Stop dragging me into the woods! I know I wanted to go, but now I don’t want to go!”

Laika stared at Laura, tilted her head, and yanked Laura forward again, barking.

“Keep me away from bears, okay? Wait, there are no bears.Don’t go near people. Def people.”

Laika led Laura through a thick bramble of branches - Laika stepping confidently, Laura contorting her way through. The trees seemed too thick; like, on the ride over it was mostly farmland and fields, not these dense forests. It confused Laura, but she only became more confused when they rounded past a big, old, gnarled tree and its thick skeleton of roots into a clearing.

In it was a house - like one of those old Victorian things she’d seen on a school trip to the Mississippi, back from when three stories was a mansion. The fence had broken into rotten chunks of wood, and the path was overgrown with weeds and grass, with only an occasional fragment of stone showing from between the green.

“Uh, I said keep me away from people.”

Laura spun around and tugged on Laika’s leash, but the dog wouldn’t budge, and Laura gave up and let herself be walked right into the house.

The entry area and living room were long stripped of anything useful or decorative, and now it was just full of peeled wallpaper and beer cans Laika pushed through like she was cutting through ice. Graffiti and dust, cans and cigarette stubs. The remains of parties past -

She tripped. Laura glanced down. A crusty boom box, with a cassette whose faded label said TOM’S MIXTAPE 1 - 14 - ‘89. The remains of parties long past.

“Laika, why are you trying to give me tet...tetno...tinnitus?”

She stepped over a discarded bag and to a half-open door. A door with slash marks. A door with slash marks cutting all the way through. Laika nosed it open.

“Laika!” Laura tugged on her leash again. “Laika, back! Now!”

The door swung open.

“What?”

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

An altar stood before a stone pillar. Carved faces: a woman, a man with the sun behind his head, a man with the moon, and a man whose face was split in four. She looked at the altar: spent candles and dead purple flowers, and a scroll. Laura picked it up - you’re gonna get diseases, she cursed to herself - and while she didn’t know much about any language but English, she knew enough to know this was no language she’d ever seen.

Laura threw it down. Tugged on Laika’s leash with all the strength she could manage. “Out! Out!” She pushed her feet towards the door. “Out!”

Laika barked, and Laura heard a growl in the house outside. Now Laika pushed, pushed with more strength than she could ever imagine possessing, pushed at the edge of escape, and Laura pulled, tried to pull the enormous dog away, tried to -

Laika ran off into the party room, barking. Something growled back. Laura didn’t know what to do. She sprinted out of the room, slammed the door behind her. A growl. Footsteps. Laura’s own feet raced away from the noise - down the hall to a kitchen, with shattered plates and flies buzzing over unknown trash, and found a window. Tried to open it, footsteps in the hall, felt it lift off the frame, pushed it up, a blast of cool air, she jumped, crawled through, into -

She hit the ground. Jumped to her feet. Ran into the woods until she couldn’t see the house anymore. It was night and Laika was gone. It was dark and Laura was lost and she was all alone.

Laura slowed down, carefully stepped over roots and fallen branches, using her phone to illuminate the way. All it was good for out here. The only other light was what light of the moon shone through the canopy of dark branches.The canopy that was way too thick.

She listened for Laika, but did not call for her. Not this far out, not alone. She heard barks sometimes, but from different angles. Other than that? Dead quiet. No bugs, no snapping twigs, just…quiet.

Laura caught her breath against an old white ash. Huff, huff, huff. She slunk down to the dirt. Oh, God, she thought. I’m lost. I’m actually lost.

She picked up her phone again, and it's pale beam of light swept over a hole in the dirt. Laura swung it back. Under the tree was a paw print. Not a bear, or a wolf’s. Bigger. Laura placed her hand in the depression - it barely filled half of it. Four clawed toes, long, but oddly familiar.

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

Through the trees, Laura could now see distant lights: cars and trucks from some nearby highway. Laura wanted to run for it. Run for the road and for anyone and call out for help.

Buzz.

Her phone! Someone was calling her! She pulled it up. Mom.

“Laura, where are you!?”

“Mom! I-”

Low battery. Disconnected. Before it died, she saw her missed calls: mom, dad, unknown?

“Shit. Shit. Shit…” Black. Everything dark but the moon and a flurry of far-away vehicles. She stomped the earth. “Shit!”

Grrrrrurrrrr. A low growl. The same low growl. She knew a bear - were there bears? - is more afraid of you than you are of them. Not possible, she thought, but maybe it’ll get bored.

Stay. Still. Don’t move. Don’t shake. Don’t run. Still, still, stillllll -

Nothing.

She ran. Ran for the lights between the trees. Came to a wide open farmer’s field. Pushed her way through rows of swaying corn stalks.

Soon she could make out a shape ahead of her, between the stalks. A man’s shape. She wanted to run over and say ‘help me’. She wanted to hide behind a tree, wanted to run away, to scream, to do nothing. A man alone in the middle of nowhere was scarier than any bear. She weighed her fear, her exhaustion.

Exhaustion won. She followed the man.

“I’m lost, uh, hey, can you -”

The man turned around, revealing a face. A horrible, horrible face, a face that seemed wrong. Pointed, human, too-human and inhuman and crisscrossed with scars and dark grey hairs, staring with narrow yellow eyes, its jaw opened, teeth, sharp teeth shining in the moonlight -

Grrrrurrrrr!

“What the hell!?” Laura leapt back, turned, started to run.

She charged through the corn, stumbled over clumps of dirt, was cut by leaves. Growls became a roar, and forceful swipes snapped stalks into pieces. Closer and closer, louder and louder -

Something powerful tried to grab her leg. She slipped free, but fell forward. Hit the ground hard. Pain cascaded through her side. Her legs screamed, refused to lift again, streaked with red.

No one will even know, she thought. They’ll take weeks to find her. Months, years, never. Mom and dad and Manuel and Summer will never know.

Laura closed her eyes tight. No more steps, no snapping stalks, no growls. But she knew it was over her. Thinking. The night was still, drained of all life. It was worse than the noise.

A bark. The creature howled back into the darkness, and Laura felt sharp teeth sink into her shoulder, and a deeper darkness descended.

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Sculptor! x Wife! Reader:

No one has asked me. This came as an idea of ​​mine from my second book of yandere things.

Yandere: Raymond (One of my Oc's).

Warning: Mention of kidnapping and killing. The images is not mine.

*Narrator PO.V*

There was recently a case of a disappearance of a 30-year-old woman. Her name was (y/n) (y/ln) Sanchez, and she was the wife of the young sculptor of the town, who was about 34 years old, Raymond Sánchez. It is said that Mr. Raymond is very distressed and desperate for her disappearance, because according to the town, they were the "perfect couple".

Too bad nobody knows the background of all this.

NO ONE knows that she is no longer human.

NO ONE knows where she really is.

She was in the basement of the museum with the statues of Raymond Sánchez. She was Ray's most beautiful and gleaming creation. So much so that she couldn't let any other human being see or touch her.

--Oh honey. Forgive me for being late, honey-- He kissed her lips while gently holding her chin and then stopped kissing her and smiled like a lover.

--God, you are so beautiful and pretty, I love you so much, so much that I would hate for others to see you-- He ran his gloved hands through the hair of his silent wife, who followed him with her eyes, apparently not very happy with her husband.

--What's wrong my love? Why are you looking at me like that?-- His wife didn't respond, she just continued to watch, since it was the only thing she could do since her fatal accident at the cement factory that Raymond manages, with that accident hushed up.

--Forgive me for not being able to save you in time when you came to visit me that time, I already told you that I tried everything to get you back!-- She had gone to visit him at the cement factory and other materials for his statues, and after passing through one of the upper floors that, when looking out, gave a view of the large cement mixer where she slipped and unfortunately fell into the large mixer where she died due to the machine being turned on, and although Raymond tried to turn it off and rescue her, it was too late.

For this reason, he decided to use that same cement and sculpt a statue in his image and likeness, however, he quickly realized that the statue of his wife was not an ordinary statue, since he followed him with his eyes, his expressions changed from very limited way and sometimes tears could be seen falling from the eyes of the statue.

--I'm the only one who knows the truth of everything, calm down. No one else knows what really happened-- He looked for a cloth on one of the basement shelves to clean a little the face of the beautiful statue of his wife, which he verified was still alive, but with many limitations in itself, such as not being able to move her entire body or speak.

--No one knows how much I loved you to make you my most beautiful statue-- He proceeded to touch up certain areas of her with paint, such as her cheeks and her hair. But still, she looked at him with indescribable hatred.

Well, she thinks he pushed her into the machine.

She thinks he turned her into it on purpose.

--Done, I already touched you. My love, I know you're angry about that day, but seriously forgive me, you're so cute and beautiful that you even make me go crazy, that's why I couldn't let you leave my side, so I made you my statue most beautiful and perfect-- He put his paints aside and kissed her lips, while she looked at him with disgust. Too bad she was made of stone, so Raymond can't have sex with her as much as he wanted to.

He was happy having her only for himself, while she feels trapped inside a body that is not hers, inside a prison where it is impossible for her to breathe again.

From a prison she wishes to be free.

-The End.

[strikingheaven]

She’s all too eager to throw out the last of Seventh Heaven’s patrons, seeing them off as she closes and locks the door, the satisfying click follows as she gives the handle one more rattle for good measure.

Tifa is behind the bar, washing up the last of the dishes and glasses, allowing for Aerith to blitz through the last of the clean up duties before both are to head upstairs. Except Aerith has something planned, and as she zooms throughout the lounge area, spritzing the tables, lifting up the chairs, sweeping and mopping the floors—she doesn’t think about how tired she is, not when she’s this excited.

This energy carries her through the next hour, just when Tifa is about finished with closing up, and Aerith runs to the office space, which is nothing more than a glorified closet with supplies taking up most of the room. The door closes behind her and a string of curse words can be heard from behind the thin wood as things fall off shelves or capsize from their resting place.

A minute or so later, Aerith emerges, breathing a little heavily, wisps of curls sticking out at odd ends from her twisted braid, and she carries under her arm a very old, very dated, boom box.

The bright orange extension cord is looped around her elbow and she knows Tifa must be looking at her with an incredulous expression, but Aerith is having none of it.

“Finished cleaning up?” Her voice, despite her disheveled state, is still cheery and light. “Go sit on the stool there,” she gestures with her chin and there sits on stool, out of all the rest, that Aerith made sure to single out.

Another minute or so passes as she sets up the boombox, searching for an outlet where she can plug the extension cord into, and with a bit of fiddling, it comes to life. She reaches into her pocket of her red bolero and pulls out a cassette tape.

It’s a nondescript cassette tape, with no image, and a piece of masking tape across the cover that says, Simply the Best, written in thin sharpie.

The lights outside are dimmed, the blinds drawn over the windows, the bar is closed, and when she presses the play button, the deep bass of the song fills the space of the bar and Aerith dramatically turns towards Tifa, braid whipped so hard it slaps against her neck, but she doesn’t care as she begins dancing to the beat, her movements exaggerated as she saunters towards her, mouthing the lyrics.

When the chorus hits, Aerith all but slides onto Tifa’s lap, hands clasped behind her back and leans back, shaking her head as she sings the lyrics this time, out of tune and out of key, but she doesn’t care.

She’s also laughing so hard that she forgets she’s dancing for Tifa and nearly fumbles to the floor as she tries to finish her sequence. Near the end of the song, Aerith doubles back and nearly throws herself at Tifa, kissing her soundly on the lips.

“Happy birthday, babe!”

When she isn’t working through a rush of customers during the liveliest hours of the night, cleaning can be meditative. The sound of clinking cups and running water is soothing compared to raucous laughter, the occasional shattering glass, and constant backdrop of sound while she keeps the taps flowing. She cannot blame people for being people.

Every so often, she sneaks peaks at Aerith working diligently to clean the floors, flip up chairs, and wipe down surfaces. Life now still feels unreal sometimes. Aerith has caught her staring more than once. 

Truth be told, Tifa isn’t sure she can ever stop. 

Every time Aerith catches her with that knowing smile, Tifa, self-conscious, ducks away without fail. This time, she has the opportunity to steal more glances without Aerith sidling up to her and pressing their noses together with pure, gremlin glee. Something is going on, what with the way Aerith is still abuzz with energy at the close of the business day, but the finer details are still a mystery. Where Cloud was frustratingly predictable, Aerith is possessed of the perfect combination of spontaneous chaos that Tifa has long since given up attempting to predict what may be going on in that girl’s head at any given time of day. 

“Aerith? Are you okay?” Tifa calls out, equal amounts concerned and exasperated when crashing noises from the office follow within seconds of Aerith’s departure. She sets the last of the glassware on a drying rack over the adjacent sink basin in time to see Aerith emerge with a clunky, boxy shape in her arms. 

“What’s going on? Where did you find that?” She blinks. “I didn’t even know we had a boom box.”

Perplexed yet curious, Tifa joins Aerith between the tables after stepping out from behind the bar. “...Yeah,” she confirms, unable to stop from smiling in the face of Aerith’s earnestness.

Dutifully, Tifa continues into the center of the room to sit on the stool that Aerith has clearly set out for her.

A dance!

Tifa’s eyes are bright with excitement, warm and fond as she watches on. Her right foot taps to the rhythm of the heavy beats, and she even finds herself leaning forward in anticipation when Aerith, hips-swaying, focused, comes towards her. Her own voice, softer, just as clumsy, joins Aerith in the chorus as the brunette climbs onto her lap.

Even if her face is flushed by the time Aerith pulls away, Tifa does not care. 

Aerith’s performance had been nothing short of stunning. The way she danced through the song, unafraid, the sound of her laughter, genuine and infectious, even the offkey notes sung within proximity struck a flutter in Tifa’s heart.

Tifa winds her arms around Aerith’s waist then past to clasp her hands at the small of Aerith’s back. “That was amazing! Thank you.”  

More conspiratorial, and entirely coy despite the growing burnish on her cheeks, Tifa leans forward to press a kiss against the corner of Aerith’s ear and whisper, “Let’s leave the music playing and go upstairs.”