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holylulusworld · 2 days

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Unworthy (2)

Summary: Thor doesn’t think you‘re a good friend to his brother.

Pairing: AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader, AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader (platonic/best friends)

Warnings: past addiction, mentions of drug abuse/addiction (Loki), angst, classism, Thor being an ass, BBF trope, mentions of spiked drinks

Catch up here: Unworthy

“Stop her then, son. If she told you the truth, we should find out more about what happened,” Odin feels like he just threw his daughter out of his house. “I shouldn’t have listened to you. Why did I not double-check your information.”

“Husband, not now,” Frigga places her hand on Odin’s shoulder. “Do not make another mistake. Maybe she is innocent, but we need to investigate further first. Thor, follow her. She’s the best source of information.”

“Right,” Thor huffs but turns to follow you. “I’m not sure she told me the truth. Some people have the ability to sell you any lie.”

Thor walks away to follow you. He easily catches up on you with his long legs and determined steps. “Wait—” He calls your name. It’s more an order than a request.

You move toward the exit, ignoring Thor walks next to you. “I said wait.”

“What else do you want to accuse me of?” You stop for a moment to glare up at Thor. “Maybe I sold drugs to Loki, huh? Maybe I was the one getting him addicted. Just leave me alone, Odinson.”

“If the guy spiked your drink there should be a police report…right?” He cocks a brow. Thor is not as good as his father at reading people, but he can see the fear in your eyes when the memories of that night come back.

“My friend called the cops after bringing me to the hospital. I gave a statement, and they promised me that he wouldn’t get away with what he did to me. I believed them,” you laugh bitterly.

“What happened?” He steps closer to tower over you. Thor is intimidating, with his sheer size and figure dwarfing you, but you won’t cower in front of him.

“What always happens,” you shrug and try to balance the box in your hands at the same time. “He came from a good family with old money. My words against his. I was the outsider allowed to walk their holy halls because of a scholarship.”

“That’s awful,” Thor sucks in a breath. If what you’re telling him is true, he understands that you always despised him, the golden son having it all. He never had to work for anything.

“It didn’t matter that my friend, the doctor, and the nurse gave a statement too. They tried to pressure me into taking my statement back, but I refused,” you sniff, and look away. “I didn’t matter, though. He got away with it because his parents knew the right people. Suddenly my test results were gone, and the guests at the party didn’t remember shit. I was lucky to not lose my scholarship. If we are done here, I’d love to leave this shitty place.”

Thor doesn’t stop you when you walk away from him. He has a lot of information to stomach. Thor hopes you’re just a good liar, and he was right about you. But he has a hunch that every word you said was true.

“That’s all, huh?” Hela looks up from her laptop to glare at Thor. He thumbs through the papers and pictures on Hela’s desk. “You didn’t find more?” He asks.

“Stop nagging,” she snaps at him. “You should thank me instead of moping. I got the statement from her friend and the doctor. The nurse withdrew her statement right after she bought a brand-new car.”

“Sounds fishy,” Hogun grumbles. It wasn’t in his plans to sneak around your apartment and follow you around town. “I don’t think the sweet girl is a criminal mastermind. All she did was to buy groceries and look for a new job.”

“Hey, it’s still my turn,” Hela glares at Hogun. “We wanted to talk about her past before we get to the present and future. A shame I didn’t get the chance to interrogate her.” She smirks at her brother. “I bet the sweet girl would’ve been putty in my hands.”

Thor curls his upper lip. “What did you find out?”

Hela leans back in her chair and crosses one leg over the other. She takes her time to inform her brother.

“I found more questions than answers. But I can tell you that the guy spiking Y/N’s drink is a piece of shit. Over the years his parents tried to cover all the shit he pulled. Luckily, they did not succeed. He crossed one too many lines and they turned their back on him.”

“Interesting,” Thor grabs one of the pictures taken at the hospital. You look scared and his heart hurts seeing the tears run down your cheeks. “Anything else?”

“No well done from you?” She huffs. “Always the same with you and father.” Hela snaps at her brother. “I tried to talk to his parents, but they refused to talk about the incident with Y/N. If you ask me, their son did exactly what Y/N said.”

“Says who…?” Thor questions. He’s still not convinced that you told him the truth and that you are innocent. If so, he’d be the worst person ever for ruining your career and friendship with his brother.

“How is he? Where is he?” You pant heavily as you try to find Loki. “Duke, where is he?” You ask Loki’s sponsor. “Duke!”

“He’s in a bad condition,” Duke’s features soften at your worried look. You’re out of your mind because Loki’s AA sponsor called you in the middle of the night. What if Loki is relapsed or is injured?

“Did he have a relapse?” You clasp your hands together to silently pray Loki didn’t do anything stupid because of what happened. “Duke?”

“No,” Duke shakes his head. “He needs you. Loki asked for you the whole time. I didn’t want to call you, but he wouldn’t stop. He’s vulnerable, Y/N.”

“I need to see him.”

“Loki’s inside my office,” Duke gently pats your shoulder. “Take all your time, Y/N. If you need a ride home, I’ll drive you.”

“Loki?” You walk inside the office, heart lurching in your chest. Loki sits on the ground. His long legs stretched out, and his head hanging. “Darling?”

“Y/N,” he murmurs but doesn’t look at you. Loki believed you gave up on him. Thor, his father, and Frigga didn’t tell him the whole truth. When one of your co-workers told him that you got fired and showed him the pictures Loki knew, Thor did this to you to get you out of his life.

“Hey, beautiful,” you sit down next to Loki and wrap one arm around his shoulders. “How’s my pretty boy tonight?”

“Not good,” he leans his head against your shoulder and sighs. “I almost fucked up again, Y/N. I was bad tonight. I…I…” he sniffles and wrings his hands. “I almost bought the poison.”

“Did you buy it?”

“No.”

“Good. See, you’re stronger than you thought,” you peck his hair. “I knew you could do it, Loki.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your job and my brother?” He murmurs. “I could’ve helped you.”

“Your brother is an asshole, you know that” you try to cheer Loki up while your world still lies in ruins. “He tried to find something to hold against me and succeed. It’s not the end of the world to lose a job, darling. I’ll find something soon.”

“Hmmm…” Loki thoughtfully hums. “Maybe I can lend you some money.”

“I got spared money, Loki. I’m not your friend because of your money, darling.”

“You are my friend because of my good looks, right?” Relieved that you are not angry at him for the things his family did, Loki sighs.

“I’m your friend because I love you, darling,” you pat his thigh. For a moment you are both silent. “So, you came here for a meeting?”

“Three,” he says. “I’m sorry Duke had to call you.”

“I told you a long time ago that you can always call me, Loki. Day or night,” you softly say. “Did you eat today, darling?”

His growling stomach answers your question. “Not much,” Loki admits. “I wasn’t in the mood for food.”

“That was the most awful rhyme I ever heard,” you laugh. “Come on, darling. I’ll take you home and we can eat my leftovers.”

“You want to take me home?” He purrs. “You can’t wait to get your hands on me, huh? I bet you waited for me to call.”

“You’re a little bitch, Loki Laufeyson.”

“I love you too, Y/N…”

You watch Loki’s chest rise and fall. Still worried about your friend you didn’t leave his side.

Finally at peace after hours of suffering and self-hatred, he sleeps peacefully on your bed.

He greedily stuffed your leftovers into his mouth and even burped because you wanted him to eat dessert too.

You talked for half the night, assuring him that his father and brother can do whatever they want to. You will stand by Loki’s side. Whether they like it or not.

“If you don’t stop yelling at me I’ll hang up,” you snarl into the phone. “I only called to tell you that Loki is safe and didn’t have a relapse. He’s asleep and I’ll drive him home after he had breakfast.”

Thor yells into the phone. He throws profanities at you while his sister watches him with amusement. She chuckles and listens to your explanation. “Thor, calm down. She took good care of him.”

“You don’t have a say in this,” Thor grunts. “She gets fired and then…” He growls and grunts while you listen to his rant.

“Are you done?” You ask. “I’m going to hang up now. I don’t want to wake Loki. He needs his sleep after everything he’s gone through last night. If you need to know more, ask his sponsor who called me, knowing I’ll be the one getting Loki out of the hole he fell into once again.”

You hang up, already regretting that you called Loki’s family. All you wanted to do was make sure they won't worry all night because he didn’t come home.

You harrumph and walk back inside your living room to switch through the channels. Sleep is out of the question after the call. Thor once again made you furious, and you hate the feeling.

Next time he dares to show his face, you’ll knee his balls and give him a piece of your mind…

Part 3

Tags in reblog.

#Unworthy (2)#AU!Thor Odinson x fem!Reader #AU!Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader #thor odinson #loki laufeyson #business au #thor odinson x reader

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cowgurrrl · 1 day

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I Don't Smoke

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Author's note: this hatched as an idea for @tightjeansjavi 's june writing challenge but it doesn't end as I thought it would necessarily but I kinda lurv it so (ps thank you @egcdeath for your help 🫶)

Summary: "Most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes you'll put up a good fight and lose. Sometimes you'll hold on really hard and realize there is no choice but to let go. Acceptance is a small quiet room." aka Javi makes a reappearance in your life [8.6k (she’s a whopper)]

Warnings: canonical type shit

It's a random Friday in April 1998 when you're walking down the hallway of FBI headquarters and hear a familiar voice call your name. Not just any voice but a voice you came to know as well as you would know your own. A voice you loved. A voice you haven't heard in four years. You freeze in your tracks and take two breaths before you actually turn around to see him.

He smiles big as he approaches you, and you struggle to find the same response. His hair is shorter and styled nicely, and he's wearing a bureaucratic suit, which you know he hates or used to hate. He's broader than you remember and seemingly more confident. You're still tense, but once he's close enough, muscle memory takes over, and you hug him.

His cologne is different. For some reason, that tugs at your heart.

"Hey, honey," he says into your hair, squeezing you a little harder. You hold him for another second before remembering you're at work and let him go. "Wasn't expectin' such a warm welcome."

"Well, that's what happens when you see an old friend for the first time in a long time." You say and Javi smirks, scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

"'Old friend.' Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"It is when I'm at work and have a reputation to uphold."

"Right," he says and puts his hands up in defense. "Didn't mean to insult Ms. FBI."

"What are you doing here? Last I heard, you resigned." You redirect, making him laugh even though you just gave away that you kept up with him even after you broke up.

"Stoddard asked me to teach a few classes to incoming DEA agents. Figured it was a good enough reason to get out of Texas," he says. You step to the side to let somebody go by in the hallway, and that ever-wandering eye falls down your body. "You look great."

"You too," you adjust some files against your chest, suddenly all too aware of how heavy his gaze is, and glance around. "How long are you in town for?"

"A week. We should get drinks or something. Catch up." He says, and you laugh at the absurdity of it all. You're talking like you went to college together, and you're gonna reminisce about the good ole days over a few drinks. You take a deep breath and nod.

"Sure, Javi. When are you free?"

"For you? Any time," he says so easily your heart squeezes. "But, I'm around tonight. I can meet you at the bar across from the Hill after work?"

"That works for me."

"Alright, then. I'll see you tonight." He smiles and looks you over again before swaggering down the hallway and into one of the classrooms like he used to walk to your desk or into your apartment. Nostalgia and something bigger bubbles in your throat, and you swallow it down.

You've often wondered about what it'd be like if you ever saw Javi again.

You never expected it would sting as much as it does.

You force yourself down the hallway into your office and let out a big sigh as you bury your head in your hands. Your engagement is cold against your skin.

You should be planning a wedding. You should be debating which version of white the napkins should be— eggshell or cream— or fighting with vendors on the phone. You should be doing a lot of things in the two months leading up to your wedding. Getting drinks with your ex is not one of them.

You worked at the United States Embassy in Bogotá during the hunt for Pablo Escobar in the early nineties. You were a fresh graduate from the DEA academy and got shipped off the day after you passed all your exams. They needed bodies in chairs and on the ground doing work to end the drug war, and you just happened to have a pulse and the qualification. Javier Peña happened to have those same things. Now, he's known as one of the men who took down the most dangerous crime syndicates in Latin America, but, at the time, he was just Javi.

He was a little older, a little more experienced, and, by all accounts, a little bit of a slut. He had a wandering eye and a bad habit of sleeping with newly minted Embassy employees who didn't know better. You were warned about Javi and his brown eyes and swagger, but you couldn't avoid him. He was your coworker, for Christ's sake. So all you could do was remind yourself you were there for a job and try to ignore him when possible. What they don't tell you about being thousands of miles away from home and dealing with nightmare-inducing horrors every single day is that you start looking for comfort wherever you can find it.

You made bad decisions like smoking cigarette after cigarette, sneaking just a little bit of whiskey in your coffee, or letting Javi bend you over his desk and leave bruises on your skin as he buried himself inside you. One time, you told yourself. You'll do this one time to get it out of your system, and then you'll both move on. As long as it didn't interfere with work, you thought it was okay to fuck him once, but either convenience or care kept you reaching for each other for the rest of your time in Colombia.

You spent most nights at his apartment because it was a little nicer and it felt like it would be too real if he entered your space. For all his sarcasm and hard edges, he was sweet with you. He'd make you breakfast and drive you to work under the guise of carpooling. Over time, you started to learn all his little quirks and tells, and you looked for him first when the smoke cleared and the gunfire ceased. He started stealing files off your pile of paperwork so you'd have less work to do, cook your favorite meals, and was ready with open arms when things got to be too much.

The love was like everything else that happened between you: quiet yet all-consuming.

As the months stretched on and you only grew to love him more and more, you started to imagine a life with him. You were naive and had too much faith in the world, but you couldn't stop yourself. The daydreams of a house with a big backyard, a dog, and maybe a few kids to fill it kept you alive when it felt like not even the weapon attached to your hip could. You wanted it so bad. You told him how much you wanted it, and he agreed despite how fucking crazy it sounded out loud. Love allows you to be delusional to avoid the possibility of rejection.

And you loved him so much that you let yourself believe once Escobar was dead or in prison that, you could go home together and live a somewhat normal life. That he could give it all up. That you could make it work.

So you threw yourself into the hunt. You didn't sleep. You barely ate. You went from smoking a few cigarettes a day to a pack as you got closer and closer. Javi wasn't much better off, and you definitely enabled each other's behavior, but you believed so hard in this future that you thought it would be worth it in the end.

He got snappy, and you argued a lot. You both shut down so much that it's a miracle you could find your way back to normalcy. He didn't even tell you when he got sent to D.C. for questioning. He just disappeared. When you and Steve stood over Escobar's body on a rooftop in Medellín, you couldn't focus on anything but the blood splatter on the shoes Javi got you as an early Christmas gift. At the end of the day, your only thought was, "It's over. We can go home. We can start over. We can make something of this."

Escobar wasn't even cold when Javi accepted a new position in Cali.

Everything he'd seen and done, the things you counseled each other through, the faces that kept him up at night didn't matter as much as that job. He broke the news to you as you were packing up your apartment. "There's an opportunity out there for you, too," he said, looking at you with those big eyes. You almost folded, drowning in affection for him, until you remembered how many times he'd almost died or disappeared without a word or struggled so much he buried his memories between your legs or at the bottom of a bottle.

How could he want to return to that? How could he want you to return to that?

That's when you broke.

You don't remember exactly what was said during the argument, but you know it was bad. There was a lot of yelling and tears. You said things you didn't mean, and he returned the favor. It went on for what seemed like hours, back and forth back and forth, until you were exhausted and done negotiating. You gave him an ultimatum: come to D.C. with you and start your lives, or go to Cali. He chose Cali. You chose D.C., and that was it.

That had to be it.

You didn't talk much in those final days, but you did a lot of crying. The horrors he helped keep at bay threatened to suffocate you. You were a shell of a person, but you couldn't reach for him again, knowing he didn't love you enough to stay with you. You had the tiniest shred of self-respect.

So, the day you left, you gave his stuff back, and he drove you to the airport in complete silence, even walking you all the way to the terminal without saying a word. His final act of care even when you'd told him you hated him forty-eight hours earlier. You waited until the very last second to get on the plane, hoping he'd change his mind or you'd change yours. You were both too stubborn and too broken, so you wished him luck and left. You didn't even hug him because you were so scared you'd never leave his arms if you did.

Things happened fast once you were stateside again. Within a week, you found a nice apartment in D.C., transferred to the FBI, adopted a cat named Astro, and swore off dating. With all your experience in Colombia, you got your pick of jobs and workload. You avoided field work for a while and got stuck pushing papers around at your desk, but you got bored three months in and asked to go back out. Your first case back in the field had you dealing with a serial arsonist who may or may not have had ties to a terrorist group. You were examining the rubble of yet another building when one of the firefighters called your name.

Harry was tall and charming and trying to explain something about accelerants, but all you could do was watch his scarred hands as they pointed. You remember thinking he was going to be a problem. It took three more fires for you to catch your guy, and Harry would later say it took those fires to build up the courage to ask you out. "You were much scarier than any fire," he told you. He had soot on his cheeks, and the flashing lights made his eyes sparkle. There was something about that stupid New York accent that just made you melt.

You thought one date couldn't hurt. You thought it would help you adjust to your new life. When he showed up in a nice shirt with a bouquet of flowers to pick you up for your first date, you knew you were fucked.

You went on a second date. And a third. And a fourth. He was patient with you as you struggled to open up to him about your time in the DEA and never pressured you to tell him anything you weren't ready to. That Christmas, you went home to New York with him and met his parents and all three of his sisters. By the next spring, you, Harry, and Astro moved into an apartment halfway between each of your jobs.

You got into the habit of bringing him cookies when he worked overnights at the station and smelling his shirt when he got home because, more often than not, it'd still smell like smoke. He'd surprise you with coffee or flowers at work "just because" and drag you away from your desk when you've been staring at the same words for however long. When a bullet grazed you in the middle of a chase, he made one of his EMT friends drive him to the hospital you were at in the ambulance with the lights on so he could get there as fast as possible. He made it in seven minutes and started crying the moment he saw you lying in the hospital bed, even though you were completely fine.

For something as unexpected as this relationship, you guys work really well. He cooks dinner, and you wash the dishes at the end of the night. He looks at big houses in nice neighborhoods and humors you even though there's no way you can afford it with two civil servant paychecks. But, when you see him playing with your nieces and nephews, something so deep inside you aches that you think the life-long debt would be worth it if it meant he got to be a dad. You take time off to visit his family, and even though he thinks it's the most badass thing about you, he doesn't say anything about your involvement with Escobar until you accidentally let something slip during a barbecue. When work gets too much, you hold each other, cry, and make promises to stay alive.

He proposes to you on the fourth anniversary of your first date. You knew he would because you'd looked at rings together, but you blub like a baby anyway and almost tackle him to the ground in Rock Creek Park. You're deliriously happy as you celebrate your engagement and even as you start to plan the wedding. It's like you blinked, and suddenly, it'd been four years since you left Colombia, and you're living the life you dreamt about, just with a new person. A person you love so fucking much, you still get butterflies when he walks in the room. The ring on your finger and the way he casually drops "my wife" into conversation when he means "fiancée" only adds to the giddiness.

You can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him. So, why the fuck did you agree to get drinks with Javi?

You pick your head up and dial the firehouse number before your brain can fully devolve into panic mode. They might be out dealing with a fire, but you figure it's worth a shot. On the second ring, Jack answers with his gruff "D.C. Fire Station 19."

"Hey, Jack."

"Oh, hey, darlin'! How're you doin'?" He asks, and you swear you can hear him smiling. Jack is one of Harry's best friends and groomsmen, and he absolutely adores you.

"I'm good. How're you?" You ask, already feeling the weight come off your shoulders just from talking to someone.

"You know, I can't complain. I mean, I could, but I won't," he says, and you laugh. "You callin' for your lover boy?"

"If he's not busy, yes."

"Nah, you're all good. Well, listen, it was nice talkin' to you, sweetheart. I'll get him now." He says before yelling Harry's name through the station so loud you wonder if the neighbors could hear him. There's some shuffling and a quick "'S your wife" as the phone changes hands. The identifier makes you laugh and it's the first thing Harry hears when he presses the phone to his ear.

"Oh, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that." He swoons, and you make a sympathetic noise.

"Rough day?"

"No, I just miss you."

"You're so cheesy," you say. "I miss you too. A lot."

"You okay? You sound off." He asks, and you chuckle. Of course, he caught the tiniest change in your voice.

"I'm okay. I bumped into somebody I worked with in Colombia today, so I just… feel weird," you say, rubbing your forehead. You hear him shuffle like he's trying to move to a more private place, but the cord on the phone isn't letting him get very far.

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"I don't know. Just weird. We're gonna get some drinks tonight and catch up."

"Maybe that'll help," he chirps. "I mean, as much as I like listening to your stories, it might make you feel better to talk to someone who was there. Maybe get some closure."

"Maybe." You say. It goes quiet on the line, but you know he's there because you can hear him breathing and hear the distant sounds of the firehouse. You don't feel pressured to say anything; just knowing he's there breaks up the tension in your chest. "Chief is gonna have your ass if he finds out you're running up the phone bill." You tease, and he laughs.

"I'll just tell him I'm talking to my wife, and if he doesn't want me on the phone, then he should stop making me work overnights."

"Which I'm sure he'll take well."

"You're his favorite. I'm almost positive he'd install a whole phone just for you," he says. It's true, but hearing it still makes you smile. It goes quiet again.

You watch people mill around the bullpen from your office window and chew the inside of your cheek. You should tell him it's Javi. He wouldn't discourage you from getting drinks with him, but he knows your history with him. He should be in the loop. He's going to be your husband, for God's sake. But you also don't need him worrying about this while in a burning building or doing CPR.

"You know I'm not technically your wife for another two months, right?" You change the subject, and he hums.

"Yeah, but it has a nice ring to it. My wife." Even the way he says it over the phone makes you giddy.

"I can't argue with that." You say. He takes a deep breath, and you copy him.

"You're gonna be okay. Go get drinks with your friend and try to have some fun. Maybe invite them to the wedding if you get drunk enough and decide it's a good idea," he suggests, and you laugh at the idea of Javi at your wedding. "I'll be home tomorrow afternoon, and we can talk about it or not talk about it if that's what you want, okay?"

"Okay." You resolve and twirl the phone cord in your fingers.

"I love you."

"I love you, too. Have a good day. Don't be a hero."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He says. You wait another second to have him nearby before hanging up and looking out over the bullpen again.

You could not show up. You could go home, cuddle with Astro, and put on Sex and the City or something else to take your mind off the day. You could go to bed early and take Harry breakfast in the morning. You know his hair will be messy and a little darker than normal, but he'll still smile and pull you into his lap even though the guys tease him all the time about your PDA.

But you're also too interested in what Javi could have to say to do that. You owe it to yourself to get closure or answers or whatever the fuck he has left to offer you.

And then you'll never think about him again.

Easy.

It's a slow day filled with paperwork and pencil-pushing at the FBI. No bombs or killers or threats. Just meetings and emails and the dread about meeting with Javi all day. You linger around the office a little longer than you need to until you're almost late, and only then do you start walking to the Hill.

It's bustling with tourists dying for a peek at the cherry blossoms scattered around D.C. and the Suits you usually see trying to get home. The April sun feels good on your skin, especially after being inside all day, and you take a moment to watch the sun dip lower and lower in the sky.

All things considered, if Javi was going to visit D.C., this would be the time to do it. Spring is in full bloom, and the last dredges of winter only show up at night or early in the morning when it's still cold. People are constantly out walking their dogs or taking their kids to the playgrounds. It feels like the city has come alive again after such a long winter. You come up with a list of recommendations of things for Javi to do while he's here, even though he probably won't do any of them. The least you could do is give him something to distract himself from work.

By the time you get to the bar, the sun has nearly set, and traffic is a waking nightmare. You push your anxiety away and duck into the bar, searching for Javi's familiar eyes amongst the exhausted interns and law students. He's in the corner, scanning the space just like you thought he would, and there's a glass waiting for you at the table. His eyes light up when he sees you, and your chest aches.

He gets up to greet you with a hug and pulls your chair out for you like a gentleman. "Don't know if your order's changed, but I figured I'd make a guess." He says, gesturing to your drink as you settle across from each other. You smile and hang your jacket on the back of your chair.

"Thank you. Next round is on me," you say as you raise your glass to his and take a sip. "How was teaching?"

"It was fine. Although I wish they'd actually listen instead of just staring at me like I have a second head." He says, and you laugh.

"You're a living legend to them. Escobar and the Godfathers of Cali? You might be the most experienced person they've come across."

"I think I'm the person professors warn students not to be in the field."

"There are much worse things to be than a Javier Peña or a Steve Murphy," you say. "Besides, I think the DEA has bigger problems than a few rogue agents."

He shrugs and glances up when the bell above the door chimes, checking out whoever just walked in. He did the same thing when you sat in bars in Colombia like he was always waiting for a fight. You used to tease him about it, but the fact that he still does it makes you smile.

"Steve sends his love, by the way." He says.

"How is he? How old is Olivia now?"

"She's gonna be five soon, and they're about to have another baby. A boy," he beams. "They're all doing good. Steve runs training courses for FBI agents now and sometimes goes back to Colombia to liaise with their government. Connie works at a hospital, and Olivia's in Pre-K."

"Sounds like you guys talk a lot." You're pleasantly surprised. They were good partners, but they could barely stand to look at each other when things got tense. Not to mention Steve leaving the DEA at the same time you did.

"Well, when Olivia started calling me Uncle Javi, it was pretty hard to ignore him," he says, and you 'aw' at the idea of her little hands reaching for him. Uncle Javi suits him. "She's a good kid."

He fills you in on his work in Texas and asks about your transfer. You tell him what you can about your job and the annoying bureaucrats you hate working with. He seems lighter than you've seen before, not just because of the drink in his hand. His shoulders are relaxed, and even though he still has the instincts of someone working in the field, he doesn't get trapped in them like he used to. It's a nice change.

You're almost done with your first drink when he digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and offers you one. God, when was the last time you even bought a pack of cigarettes? It had to have been right after Harry came home from a particularly bad fire resulting from a stray cigarette. Three people died. After that, you couldn't pick up a cigarette without thinking about the seventeen-year-old who got stuck in the apartment. That must've been three years ago now.

"I quit," you say, and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"That's new." He says like your hair turned blue before his eyes, but pops one into his mouth anyway. You shrug.

"Sorry to disappoint."

"No, no, 'm not disappointed. Just surprised."

"Yeah, well," you sigh. "American cigarettes aren't as good as the Colombian ones."

"I guess that's true," he says as he flicks his lighter open and inhales until the end glows. Just as always, he politely blows smoke away from your face. "Alright, so you got a new job, a new apartment, a cat, and you quit smoking. What else has changed since I saw you last?" He asks, and your thumb immediately presses into the band of your engagement ring.

Well, it's now or never.

"I, uh... I'm getting married," you say, and his eyes fall to your ring. "In two months." He takes a big sip.

"Congratulations," he says. It might be the most unenthusiastic thing you've ever heard somebody say. "Who's the lucky guy?"

"His name is Harry. We've been together for a few years now."

"What's he do?" He asks in his interrogator's voice, and you give him a look.

"We don't have to do this." You say. Javi takes another drag of his cigarette and grinds his teeth.

"Do what?" He asks. "It shouldn't be hard to talk about if you love him."

"I do."

"Then, why don't you want to tell me about him?"

"Is that a serious question?" You scoff, and he shrugs. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"I already asked you," he says. "What does he do for work?"

"He's a firefighter." You know it's a cliche: a cop and a firefighter, but you don't really care.

"How'd you meet?"

"First field case I had was an arsonist. He was one of the guys on site when I got there."

"Romantic," Javi muses, and you hum. You wait for him to continue bombarding you with questions, but the air gets thick, and suddenly, all you can do is take big gulps of your drink. You signal to the bartender for another, and Javi finishes his cigarette in silence. "Well, I'm happy for you," he says softly. He doesn't seem like he is, but you know better than to press him, so you just nod.

"Thank you," you say. The bartender drops two more drinks off at your table, and Javi raises his glass to you.

"Here's to you and Terry-"

"Harry," you correct, and he laughs, breaking up the tension that's settled. He took the news much better than you expected, but you're still waiting for the other shoe to drop. There always seems to be one waiting when Javi's around.

"To you and Harry and a lifetime of happiness." He says, tapping his glass against yours and taking a drink. "Now, tell me what you've been doing with the fuckin' FBI."

"Oh, you're gonna need to buy me a few more drinks before I start spilling government secrets, Peña." The name rolls off your tongue before you can stop it, and it brings you back to hot Colombian days and red yarn on a corkboard and his apartment. He raises his eyebrows like it's a challenge and smirks.

"Don't tempt me with a good time."

It's late and you're drunk. Drunker than you've been in a while. You didn't mean to. You just kept talking and drinking, and it felt so good talking to him after so long. Once you got through with the elephant in the room, it was so easy to fall back into the groove with him. You talked about Colombia and your lives outside of work. You even tell him the story of accidentally letting it slip that you used to work for the DEA after smoking a little bit of weed with Harry's sister, Caitlin.

You laughed together until last call and then argued over who would pay the tab. "Consider it my weddin' gift," he half-slurred, and you rolled your eyes and let him pay.

Now, you're strolling the empty National Mall, working off your buzz and elongating the time you have with him. You didn't realize how much you missed him until tonight. Despite everything that happened, you did have good days with him. Days filled with music and chain smoking and laughter. You'd like to get those back. You'd like that version of him back.

As you walk, you point out monuments to him and messily retell the stories the tour guide told you when Harry thought a walking tour of D.C. was a good second-date idea. You switch presidents and periods too much to make sense, but Javi listens anyway. Every so often, his warm hand will brush against yours, barely touching your skin but enough for you to notice when he does it. Neither of you say anything about it or break the flow of your conversation. Maybe it's for old-time's sake. Maybe it's because you don't know what there is to say. The night is clear and eerily quiet. The only sound besides your laughter and drunken stories is the chilly wind blowing through the trees and the clacking of heels from an exhausted-looking White House intern as she walks by.

Or, at least, it was until you stumbled across a busker by the Lincoln Memorial. The empty space echoes with the sound of his saxophone, and you smile as you get closer. There are a few other people milling around, and a few take turns throwing coins in his case. You've seen him playing here before, but you've never had the time to actually stop and listen. He's good. You wish you'd stopped sooner.

"You wanna dance?" Javi whispers in your ear, his breath fanning across your neck, and you furrow your eyebrows.

"Here?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"Why not?"

"Because nobody else is."

"C'mon," he tuts. "Live a little." He doesn't wait for you to say anything else. He just grabs your hand and pulls you a little closer to the musician. You sigh but let Javi hold one of your hands and rest the other on his shoulder. He smirks and you roll your eyes to hide the fact that you're shocked he wants to dance. With you. In public.

Sure, you had little moments where you danced in the kitchen, but never in public. Even then, it wouldn't have ever been his idea to dance. He's like a whole new person. You don't know how to feel about it.

What the fuck happened to him in Cali?

He spins you under his arm, and you do your best to follow his lead. You have two left feet as it is, something Harry has helped get out of your system, but the alcohol makes it even worse. You almost trip yourself but land against Javi's chest before you can hit the ground. He makes an oomph sound but doesn't do anything to push you away. You don't do anything to pull away.

The saxophonist continues playing, and the cicadas chirp nearby. If you listen hard enough, you can hear Javi's heartbeat. You think you'd know the sound anywhere. You memorized the rise and fall of his chest when you woke up from nightmares, and he was the one to calm you down. You used to count the contractions of the muscles in his heart until you fell back to sleep. It was often the first thing you heard when you woke up if bombs weren't going off somewhere in the city or your phone wasn't blaring with an emergency message from the Embassy.

And now, here it is again, unexpectedly thumping against you after four years, following the rhythm of the music surrounding you. Javi's warm as he tentatively rests his head against yours, and you feel his fingers flex around your hip. A mixture of his cologne and cigarettes invades your senses, and you can do nothing but ride the nostalgia wave until the song ends.

You pry yourself from Javi to turn and applaud the saxophonist, and he gives a gracious bow. Javi looks a little disappointed that the song is over but drops a ten-dollar bill in the saxophone case anyway.

"Didn't take you for a dancer." You say as you walk away from the Lincoln Memorial, and he shrugs.

"'M full of secrets now."

"I guess so," you say. You start walking toward your apartment, suddenly too cold and tired now that you're a little more sober. Javi follows, putting himself between you and the street and grazing your lower back whenever you cross the road. He's always been protective of you, even before you started dating. It makes sense he would still be, right? You're trying to make sense of the muddled mess in your head when Javi pulls his cigarettes out of his jacket, and you eye them. You must not be as discrete as you thought you were because he laughs at you.

"For someone who quit smoking, you look like you want a cigarette." He says, offering the pack to you, and you sigh. You take one from the middle and put it between your lips. Javi is quick with his lighter, and you lean into him just a little as you inhale. He watches your every movement like he's watching a miracle unfold before him.

You hate to admit how good the smoke feels in your lungs. After three years of not even looking at a cigarette, all it took was an offer and a quick puff, and you're back to the beginning. You'll start again tomorrow.

"Don't tell Harry." You say as you blow smoke away from him, and Javi laughs.

"What? He doesn't like you smoking?" He asks, looking for a reason not to like Harry, and you chuckle.

"It's not that. I've just heard one too many horror stories about a stray cigarette starting a fire." You say, and he hums.

"Is that why you quit?"

"Kinda. I also…" you start but then shake your head. "Never mind."

"What? Now you have to say it."

"You're not gonna like it."

"Try me." He says, and you inhale deeply, blowing smoke out of your nose. You think about telling him to leave it alone, but the alcohol and the pain in your chest tells you to say fuck it.

"I quit because it reminded me of you." You admit. He gets quiet. He takes a long drag of his cigarette and looks up at the stars as you silently spiral. You feel like you need two more cigarettes and a shot of tequila.

Javi has always had a special talent for making all your worst habits bubble to the surface.

"You're right, I don't like that." He says softly, and you nod. You walk a few blocks in silence. The only sounds are your shoes clicking against the pavement and the tiny crackling of your cigarette as you smoke. A siren blares somewhere in the city, and your stomach drops. It always does, but especially now.

Your fiancé is out there, putting his life on the line to save others because that's how good of a man he is, and you're getting drunk and slow-dancing with the man who broke your heart? You didn't even tell him it was Javi. What if something happens to him tonight, and you're out? What if you miss the phone call? Guilt gnaws at your throat like an angry dog, and you feel like throwing up. You swallow hard and stomp out your cigarette before it can get to the filter.

"I'm glad we did this," you say, trying to get things back on track. Javi gives you a weak smile. "I missed you."

"I missed you too."

"You know, Harry said there's a place for you at the wedding if you want it. I know you'll be back in Texas, but it could be fun. We'd love to have you," you say, and he shakes his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea." He says. You knew he'd say no, but it still stings.

"Just thought I'd ask." You say, and he nods. You're about two blocks away from your apartment, and you start fishing for your keys out of your purse when Javi stops. You keep walking, thinking he's going to finish his cigarette and pull out another one.

"Don't marry him." He says, just loud enough for you to hear, and ice floods your veins. Whatever alcohol left in your system seems to vanish, and you freeze.

"What?" You ask as you slowly turn around. Javi chews on his bottom lip and stares at you.

"Don't marry him," he says again. Something behind his eyes is familiar, and suddenly, you're the girl he couldn't leave Colombia for again. Tears prick in your eyes, and you shake your head. "You'll get bored in a few years, and you'll be stuck if you marry him."

"I love him."

"I love you."

"Stop," you mumble. He takes a step forward and cradles your face in his hands, tilting you up to look at him, and your jaw tightens. You wonder if he can feel it. "You don't love me."

"I do. I always have. I fucked up, and I'm so sorry for hurting you, but I'm here now. We can start over. I'll move to D.C.. I'll do whatever." He says in one breath like he's afraid he'll lose the courage to say the words out loud.

"It's too late." You say, and he shakes his head.

"No, it's not. We can go tonight. Anywhere you want. I-"

"You let me leave," you cut him off, years of frustration and heartbreak coming back up to the surface as you take his hands off your face. "I was drowning and you let me get on the fucking plane."

"I thought that's what you wanted."

"I wanted you to reject the position in Cali and come with me because I really thought you could at least try to love me more than your job."

"I couldn't just give the Cali position up." He says and you scoff and take a few steps away from him.

"But you could give me up," you say, throwing your arms up in defeat. "That's not love, Javi. That's having someone around to play with and throwing them out when you get bored."

"It wasn't like that."

"Enlighten me, then."

"Do you remember when Carillo died?" He asks and you take a deep breath before nodding.

Most of your memories of Colombia are muddled, but not that day. You were pissed Messina wouldn't let you go, but you were fine to let the Colombian police make the raid. Javi and Steve were anxious. You remember watching them stand next to the radio like guards and trying to guess what was going on in their heads. Javi's gaze lingered on you a few too many times to be an accident, and he smiled fondly at you. You joked about them paying for the drinks you'd have later to celebrate. Things felt stable enough for you to sit down next to Messina. You were halfway through a cigarette when the gunfire chattered over the radios.

It wasn't an ambush.

It was a fucking massacre.

They never stood a chance. The scene was horrendous. Hearing Messina call Mrs. Carillo to tell her what happened was worse. Steve, somehow, was able to go with Carillo, so he wasn't alone in transport back to Bogotá. You and Javi were the cowards who went back and drank until you stopped seeing the pile of bodies you felt responsible for.

Javi put his fist through the wall of his apartment when he got home that night. You wanted to cry but knew that if you started, you'd never stop and who were you to be crying? People had just lost their sons, husbands, brothers, and fathers on your orders. You didn't deserve to cry. It was the beginning of the end for you and Javi, but you clung to your idea of the future so hard, it had claw marks on it when you finally let it go and got on the plane.

So, yeah, you remember. You remember it all.

"I couldn't let that happen to you or anyone else ever again. It would kill me," he says. You're about to tell him it's not his fault, and it never was. It was shitty intel. It was a trap. It was a lot of things, but it wasn't his fault. That might be the only thing you can say for sure about that tragedy. "So, I put everything that wasn't work out of my mind and made bad decisions, and that's on me, but I never stopped loving you or believing in our future."

"Then, why didn't you fight for us?"

"I didn't know how. You were so…" He searches for the right word. "Sure. You knew you didn't want to go to Cali, and I couldn't make you stay."

"I would've if you said the word," you say. "Even though I was miserable in Colombia, I would've come back if you asked me to because that's how much I loved you. Even if you'd just called me after I got here, we probably could've worked something out, but I'm marrying the love of my life in less than sixty days. And I've never had to beg him to stay with me or give him an ultimatum and question if he loves me because he wakes up every day and shows me how much he wants to be with me. I can't walk away from that."

"Does he know what you did down there?"

"Of course, he does." You say, annoyance buzzing in your molars, and you cross your arms over your chest.

"Does he know everything?"

"You mean, does he know I've killed people?" You ask. "Yeah, it was super fun trying to explain that to him. You want to hear about how I hyperventilated through the whole thing, or do you want to ask me another question to try to undermine my relationship?" He purses his lips and shakes his head.

"No," he says. "I just don't think you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Fuck you, Javier." You spit. You don't know the last time you used his full name like that. Something about it feels wrong and makes your skin crawl. "You left one girl at the altar over a decade ago, and you think you know about marriage?"

"That's not fair."

"No, what's not fair is you coming here and making me feel like the bad guy for moving on. I deserve to be happy. I've worked, and I've cried, and I've fucking killed for it, and the second I feel like things are going my way, you do this!" You yell.

"I love you." He says again, like it'll change anything. The pressure behind your eyes returns, and you turn away from him, but he catches your wrist before you can. "Listen to me. I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeats over and over again, but all you hear is, "I love you, but I can't come with you." "I love you, but I need this." "I love you. Isn't that enough?"

You rip out of his grasp and punch at his chest with tears slipping down your face. He takes it, still saying that he loves you, and for some reason that hurts more. You push him hard and watch him stumble back, his brown eyes tracking the tears down your face.

"If you really love me-"

"I do." He cuts you off and you take a stuttering breath.

"Then, let me be happy," you beg. "Let me go. Please. If you love me, you'll do that for me."

You feel pathetic, standing there crying like he shattered your heart all over again as he just stares at you and thinks. You want to go home. You want this to end. You want to never see him again.

Maybe in twenty years, you could stand to face him again. You'll be happily married, and you hope he'll be, too. You'll have a few kids, and you'll tell stories about them and Harry will pull pictures of them out of his wallet. You won't hurt anymore. Maybe when your daughter goes through her first heartbreak, you'll find the courage to tell her about Javi. Maybe all this grief will be worth something someday. You want it to.

But right now, you're just the girl he didn't love enough to leave Colombia for, and he's not the man you love enough to marry.

He clears his throat, his own tears glistening in his waterline, and nods.

"Okay," he mumbles. "I'll tell Stoddard I had a family emergency or something back home. Get the first flight back." Your eyes flutter shut at his words, and you try to keep yourself from crying more.

"Thank you." You say.

"I love you." He says again, and you open your eyes. He's grinding his teeth again, and his hands are in his pockets as if he's forcing himself not to reach for you. You give him a small smile and nod.

"I know," you say. "I'm sorry."

Just as you did at the airport all those years ago, you stand awkwardly far apart, unsure of what to do now. He waits for you to change your mind. You won't. He'll get on the plane, and that'll be it.

He nods to himself one more time before turning to walk away.

"You do deserve to be happy. I've never doubted that. I wish I could've given that to you." He says like he's trying to convince you he's a good person. You sniffle and spin your ring around your finger.

"You did for a while. It's just Harry's turn to do that now," you say. "Goodbye, Javi." He opens his mouth like he's going to say goodbye or something else, but you turn your back to him and start walking toward your apartment before he can.

You figure, after everything, it's only fair that you get the last word.

You didn't sleep. You knew you wouldn't. Astro seems to sense your anxiety and cuddles into your chest, purring loudly to try and drown out your thoughts. You reassure her you're okay and kiss her head as the inky blue sky is replaced by a stunning pink and purple morning.

A good omen, you hope.

You force yourself to get up and get ready for the day. It's Saturday and a fire station breakfast day. It's never anything fancy: donuts picked up from a nearby cafe, greasy fast food breakfast, sometimes cold pizza. Today, you walk to a nearby bodega and pick up his favorite breakfast sandwich with two steaming cups of coffee before walking to the fire station.

It's cold, and D.C. hasn't quite woken up yet. It'll be a few hours before life returns as people sleep off hangovers or long weeks. That's okay. This morning is just for you.

The garage door is wide open when you get to the station, and Harry is perched on the back bumper with the firehouse dog, Maisie, whispering things to her. He looks tired. You don't think you look any better, but he still lights up when he sees you, and Maisie even starts wagging her tail.

"Hey there, stranger," you greet him as he pulls you closer and smirks up at you. "You have a good night?"

"No, but it doesn't matter now that you're here." He says. You would normally roll your eyes at his cheesiness but your chest fills with warmth instead. You lean down and kiss him. He smells like smoke but tastes like the chapstick you make him wear because of the heat. Maisie sniffs at the bag in your hand, and you laugh against his lips when she licks your arm.

"I think she's jealous." You say, and he sucks his teeth as he looks at Maisie.

"You have breakfast, you little terrorist." He reminds her but he immediately folds when she gives him that innocent look. "She can have one piece of bacon, but that's it. We need you trim to get up in the trucks, right?"

You pull a piece of bacon off one of the breakfast sandwiches and make her sit and shake before you give it to her. She crunches on it happily, knowing she's absolutely spoiled rotten. She makes space for you to sit next to Harry on the truck and you rest your head on his shoulder. "You okay?" He asks as he kisses your hairline, and you nod.

"Just missed you," you say. "I couldn't sleep last night." He makes a sympathetic noise and wraps an arm around your shoulder to tuck you further into his side.

"Were you thinking about Colombia?" He asks and you hum. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Not right now."

"Okay. You wanna hear about why our kids will never be allowed to buy candles ever? No matter how old they get or how much smarter they think they are than us?" He changes the subject easily, and you laugh despite the pain still radiating in your body. You know he'll be there when you're ready to tell him about last night, no matter how long it takes you, and you will tell him. Eventually.

"Hit me with it." You say as you unpack your breakfast sandwiches and pass him his coffee. Maisie wags her tail as you alternate between sneaking her treats and listening to Harry's story. He knows you're giving her extra snacks but won't ever stop you.

You sit there on the back of that dirty firetruck, talking and watching the sunrise together and debating on which version of white the napkins at your wedding should be— eggshell or cream— and know you'd do everything all over again if it meant this was the outcome. You love him with everything that you are and ever could be.

And as you eat your breakfast and soak up each other's presence, you find yourself hoping Javi could love someone like this someday. You believe he has it in him. You've seen it. Whoever ends up being the one to tie Javier Peña down will be lucky and loved.

It just wasn't meant to be you.

#tightjeansjavijunewritingchallenge #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena imagine #javier pena one shot #javier pena angst #javi peña #javi p x reader #javi p fic #pedro pascal

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odyssean-flower · 2 days

Text

Title: What if you, like, gave Neuvillette a shoulder rub

I wanted to include this scene in the chapter but ultimately decided to save it for a later one. tbh i stopped before getting to the "good" part but i still hope you enjoy it

You gently nudged Neuvillette. “Hey, how about I give you a shoulder rub?”

“Pardon me, Madame?” his eyes widened, and he shook his head slightly as though he thought he heard wrong. “Did you say ‘shoulder rub’?”

You couldn’t blame him for his surprise. It was terribly forward of you to offer. But, you thought that it would be good for the both of you.

“We still have time before the meeting starts. I used to do it for my parents and the old folks back home, so I’m quite good at it, if I do say so myself.” Seeing the hesitance in his eyes, you added, “Don’t worry, my hands will only stay on your shoulders. I won’t touch you anywhere else.”

Neuvillette glanced down at your hands for the briefest of seconds, then looked back at your face. “Very well, I accept your offer,” he said, still sounding a bit hesitant. You tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it didn’t seem to have the right effect. You should really practice these things more.

You walked around the couch to stand behind him, then took off your gloves and draped them over the back of the seat. He twitched a little when you placed your hands on his broad shoulders. You should have asked him to take off his robes, but it was supposed to be a short massage anyways.

“Tell me if I’m hurting you,” you said as you kneaded your fingers into his shoulder muscles. My goodness, he really needed this, you thought. You had to use all your fingers just to work out one single knot. Thinking back to his late nights in his study, you felt a rush of guilt. He works too hard. I should have offered to do this a long time ago.

Neuvillette was motionless as you worked. If it weren’t for the slow rise and fall of his shoulders, you would have thought that you were massaging a statue.

“Um…does it feel good?” you asked after a short period of silence. You had the feeling he was holding his breath.

“…Yes,” there was the slightest tremor in his voice. He cleared his throat, “Yes, it feels I’ve…never experienced something like this before. You’re quite skilled at this, Madame.”

“Thank you, but I’m just an amateur. You should look into visiting a professional masseuse for a full body massage. I’ve never been to one myself, but I heard you’ll feel like a completely new person after you use their services.” If this was how stiff his shoulders were, you could only imagine how it was for the rest of his body. “I heard they use aromatic oils and other things like that to help you relax. A lot of the higher-end spas have strict confidentiality policies, so you don’t have to worry about your privacy.” You were repeating what you’ve read during your honeymoon research.

#neuvillette x reader #the winding path of fate #neuvillette x female reader

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koolades-world · 2 days

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HIIII CONGRATS ON 2K FOLLOWERS 🗣🗣🗣

Can I request prompt #32 with Mammon?! Where the brothers are doing their usual teasing of Mammon and it finally gets to him. He then goes to MC for comfort! Maybe cuddling involved? 👀

thank you! of course you can :)

i love a good hurt comfort with mammon

enjoy <3

prompt 32 w/ Mammon

You loved the brothers, no doubt. You’d all formed unbreakable bonds and you spent lots of time together. They loved each other too. But at the end of the day, they were demon who really did treat each other as siblings. They were downright cruel to each other at times. You understood to some degree, but you and your siblings never went that far. You would get into a loud argument, but about ten minutes later, be good friends again and give each other a helping hand. Maybe that’s how the brothers expected their relationship to be, but it felt like more times than not, they took things a little too far.

It was oddly quiet in the house. You and Lucifer were sitting in his room together. He was doing paperwork, while you tried planning the latest shenanigan that Diavolo had proposed. You occasionally asked him for advice or his opinion on something. From time to time, the two of you would randomly start to chat about things that happened to come to mind. It was nice to work in silence, but it did leave you questioning what the rest of the household was doing.

“Do you think I should try plan the venue set up around the ice sculpture, or the games? If the sculpture was in the center, it would definitely help elevate the overall elegance, but the games are the whole point of the event. I’m not really sure what Diavolo was thinking asking me to plan a classy, but fun event. It’s very him though, I will say.” You stared blankly at the paper you were sketching on. It was rather crude, but it was only the first draft.

Lucifer remained silent for a second. “Plan around the games. The sculpture can be at the far end of the venue. Still center, but helps put the focus on what Lord Diavolo wanted. Besides, who know what kinds of games he wants to plan? The more room the better.” Lucifer didn’t look up from his work, but you could tell he’d thought hard about what you’d said.

“Thanks. You’re right.” You went back to sketching, making note of what he said off to the side with your other little notes. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, before Lucifer spoke up again.

“It’s awfully silent. I think I’m going to go check up on everyone.” He abruptly got up. You had been thinking the same thing.

“Alright, I’ll stay here for now I think. If you have any issues, call me.” You had a few ideas you wanted to get down, alas you forget them.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He shut the door behind him, leaving you alone in his room. You thought about snooping a little, but that would be a breach of his privacy. Besides, how many people could say they were trusted so much so by Lucifer himself that they were left alone in his room? You continued to work, jotting down ideas that came to mind to bring up with Diavolo and Barbatos later.

When you finally looked up, you realized Lucifer still wasn’t back. With that, you got up and decided to look for him. He hadn’t called for you, but knowing him, he wouldn’t even if there was something wrong. The house was still silent. It gave you an icky sort of dread. Something was wrong. You grew more and more panicked by the minute, throwing open every door in the house in search of anybody, but to no avail. The last place you could think to check was outside.

Fortunately, they were all out there.

Unfortunately, some kind of conflict seemed to be happening.

You struggled to take in everything that happening, But, the first thing you zeroed in on was Mammon. He strangely wasn’t part of whatever was happening. He was sitting on the ground, head hanging and looking defeated. Ignoring everyone else, you quickly made your way over to him and knelt beside him. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.

“Mammon?” You took his hand, but you still got no reaction. You gently took his face in your other hand and turned it towards you. You’ll never forget the expression on his face. It was devoid of the joy and that smile you were so used to seeing. Instead, it was blank. It was eerie seeing him with a blank slate of an expression. He looked without looking, as if he didn’t even register you were there. “Mams. Let’s go inside.” You didn’t know what happened, but that could wait. Right now, you knew he needed to be away from the ongoing argument. They were so into the fight, they didn’t even notice the two of you leaving.

After you shut the door behind you, the din was deafened. No wonder you didn’t realize they were outside. You led Mammon back up to his room and locked the door behind the both of you. You knew he had some snacks and drinks in his mini fridge in case you needed them. You sat him down, and threw one of the blankets you’d left in his room around his shoulder. “What happened?” Now that the two of you were alone, you figured he might be more receptive to you.

Mammon turned to look at you: the most reaction you’d see out of him so far. He stared at you, and you held his hand comfortingly. He gazed at you, still with a mostly blank expression. “Yer too good to me.” He finally spoke.

“You deserve it. I don’t think I could imagine my life without you.” You were a little confused where all of this was coming from, making you wonder what might have happened.

“Well, my brothers could. They don’t need me.” He looked away from you again.

“What are you talking about? Of course they need you. This family wouldn’t be complete without you. You’re the great Mammon.” You tried to lift his spirits, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Ya’d think differently if you didn’t see me so positively. I’m a piece of scum.” You lent forward a little, trying to meet his eyes, but he fully turned away. He gripped your hand tighter. You sunk back into your chair, but he didn’t move back to how he was before.

“What’d they say?” You move his hand and held it to your chest.

“They told me I was a stain on the family and I didn’t deserve my title. That all I did was make their life harder. They said it in the heat of the argument, so maybe they didn’t mean it, but I’m starting to thing they’re right.” You felt your heart throb for him. It seemed as if he was past the point of tears, because you saw none now and before. He seemed almost numb to it all. If you didn’t know him, you’d just assume he was tired. But you did. And you knew just what you needed to say to try and help.

“You’re Mammon. You fought beside Lucifer and earned your spot fair and square. They might not see what makes you special, but I do.I got to know you much more recently than they did, but we’re so close. Did you ever stop to wonder why? You’re so sweet and loving to me, even early on. It was really great to know I could trust someone in this new and scary world. To me, you’re perfect. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re my first demon, after all.” You spoke from the heart. “You light up my world, Mams. I’m really glad I met you.” While he was still facing away from you, you felt the grip on your hand soften a little.

“Do ya really think that?” He seemed tentative with his words, as if you might take them back any second.

He still seemed unsure, so you continued. “Think of it this way. Every choice you ever made led you here, and the same goes for me. Even if every choice was a bad one, which they weren’t, we still ended up here, together. You make my life better, and if I need to tell you it a million times, I will.”

“Really?” He finally turned back to look at you. His eyes were still free to tears, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Of course I do. Why else would I be here with you right now?” With that, Mammon tackled you into a hug. You playfully screamed, but hugged him back. He needed it. You let him have his moment, and the two of you remained snuggled up in your blanket on his bed. He rolled over, so you were on top of the cuddle hug now.

“I can’t be suffocating my human, now can I?” His signature smile was back. You were glad you were able to help him. You’d do anything for that smile.

“Prime example of you being sweet.” You laughed as he threw the blanket over your head. As much as he tended to deny it, he truly did love his human. You picked him up during times likes this and supported him no matter what, even when he tended to act prickly with his emotions. You were just what he needed in his life.

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me mammon #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we datee?#obey me! shall we date

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silken-moonlight · 18 hours

Text

Older Alpha x Human waitress/ The Elegence Series Part 8

A/N: Since I will be working for the next couple days, I have a shorter new chapter for you guys today. I like this one a lot.

[Your POV]

The booth the three of you sat in was comfortable, with three armchairs and some very old and torn carpet beneath your shoes. Nick's Cave had several booths like this where you could sit and talk. The dance floor was on the other side of the room, so there was enough space between the two areas.

Desmond looked a little out of place in his dress shirt and pants, as if he had been dragged along. The old armchairs and relatively cheap drinks seemed out of place for him. You realized once again how handsome and attractive he was. Your eyes roamed his face as he listened to his brother. The slightest smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, and the gaze in his eyes when he watched his brother was filled with affection. His blue eyes showed genuine interest in his brother. His beard looked well-kept and soft...for a moment, you imagined what it would be like to kiss him. You tried to think of something else, blushing and quickly looking away from him. Sipping from your cocktail instead.

"Dad never changed. He is still an asshole, I keep him out of all decisions. While I value and respect his experience, his ways are neither modern nor as effective as they could be." Desmond told Will, who listened. "You know, I never thought I would say this, but I agree with you. What you're doing with the pack actually sounds good." Desmond smiled again; he did it more often these days.

"Thank you, Will. I appreciate your words. I strive to make it a good pack." His gaze went to you, and you gave him a coy smile, still thinking about your little daydream of kissing him.

"She has a great relationship with her parents,” Will told Desmond. “She still has daddy issues, so you have a chance, Des.” “Will!” you exclaimed, throwing your napkin at him and blushing extremely. Unable to meet Desmond’s eyes, you could hear him chuckle. It was a deep, rich sound. By the moon, was this all embarrassing for you right now? “Oh, come on, my brother’s a catch,” Will teased both of you.

You lifted your gaze from the ground to Desmond. He looked at you with a smile. "No need to be shy, sweetheart. He just wants to tease us." You laughed nervously and nodded, sipping again from your drink. At this rate, you would be tipsy in the next ten minutes. Maybe you... could shut up Will by then.

You dealt with the alcohol in your system. You felt a little bold and a little curious. "What position do you have in your pack?" you asked Desmond. His eyes were filled with smugness when he answered, "I am the alpha of my pack." You knew that; you just wanted to open the conversation somehow. "And how is that? It must be stressful, doesn't it?"

"At times, yes. These days, it's a lot of paperwork and a lot of responsibility. A lot of politics, too. You have to balance your private life and your position as a leader. My life lacks a partner, my mate, so I spend most of the time more as an Alpha than an individual." There was a strange tug in your chest; you wanted to comfort him. "I rarely take the time for myself to relax unless I'm at my lake house," he added while you listened. "That sounds...lonely." This earned you a sad smile. "I'm used to it, darling. Sometimes we have to sacrifice everything so others can live better." You smiled with a touch of sadness. "I absolutely understand what you mean. We give what we can give and take the little we deserve."

"Still...there are also good sides. Many, no, plenty. I believe you would like my pack and where most of our pack lives," Desmond said while sipping his whiskey. You were all interested now. "Tell me about it." Desmond's smile grew wider. "We live up in the Starfall mountains. We've got a little village where we do everything from. That's where most of the pack lives. We also have many pack members outside of the village. Many study, live somewhere else, or have other reasons." He explained further and leaned towards you. He smelled so good, you wanted Nothing more than to bury your nose in his neck and stay there.

You stopped yourself at that thought. Gods, you were such a creep, you told yourself. Still, you leaned in as well, your shoulders touching as he pulled out his phone to show you some pictures of the pack and the region.

"It looks so peaceful there." You heard yourself say. "Are humans allowed there? I know some werewolf communities do not like humans to be around." You asked and looked up at him. You could get lost in those eyes. Maybe you imagined it, but you could see the sky of the Starfall mountains. Maybe even the surface of lakes on rainy days. Thunderstorm eyes, with yearning in their gaze, your breath was caught. What had he seen? What had he felt? What made him, him?

You realized that there was silence between the two of you, his gaze still on you. "I am so sorry...When I'm tipsy I get lost in details and I admired your eyes." Desmond chuckled and answered, "No worries, Darling, but be careful with looking so intensely into the eyes of a wolf. They can interpret it very differently...." His voice was almost a purr, and you felt yourself blushing again.

"Oh my gods, get a room, you animals!" Will said and laughed so hard that he began to hiccup, and tears were slipping out of his eyes. You looked away, embarrassed not only by yourself but also by the comment of your best friend.

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ohwaitimthewriter · 2 days

Text

The scent of memory

Pairing : (implied) Caesar x human reader

Warning: FLUFF

Summarize (you'll never see me write a good one 😭): You started to cook a meal dear to your heart when a certain ape decided to pay you a visit.

Words: 2K+

A/N: I tried a little something, I hope you'll like it! Enjoy your reading 😊 I lowkey feel a bit insecure about this one but shhh I just wanted to get this out of my mind

Masterlist.

There were surprises every day. Ever since you joined Caesar's clan, you'd spent your time learning what your human life had never taught you: to use what nature offered and adapt it to the needs of the community.

And there was a lot to learn. So Caesar asked Maurice to teach you, to teach you the way of the apes. You were a quick learner, but you never gave yourself too much credit: Maurice was a good teacher, patient and clear in what he showed you. Regardless of the activity, he always found the best way to help you master the techniques for weaving ropes or fine plant stems and knotting them, for whittling wood to create stakes or notches, for carving stone to make weapons… Maurice taught you to identify plants and mushrooms, the edible ones, the healing ones, the poisonous ones. One day, he even took you with him into the forest to learn how to track small game. Not that hunting was one of your favorite activities, and even if you still needed a bit of work in that area, being able to find and track game added a usefulness to your presence within the clan.

Being useful. That was all that mattered to you, and often, when night fell and Maurice left you to your own activities, you continued the work. You'd weave again and again until you obtained the exact density and solidity you were looking for. You could spend several hours whittling a piece of wood to the right angle or thickness. Carving stone required more strength and dexterity. You often ended up with scratches on your hands, but if that meant being useful, then you'd take all the cuts and scratches necessary to master these techniques.

With Maurice, you learned the manual stuff. But there was one last thing you needed to learn. Something that took time to communicate: sign language.

Caesar always found a moment in his day to teach you. You weren't sure why he'd appointed himself as your teacher for this language, but it gave you the opportunity to spend some time with him. And over time, you learned to savor those brief moments when he showed you a new word.

Moments of peace.

It was a strange thing to feel serenity in the face of this force of nature that was Caesar. Strong, powerful but also fair and caring. All he had to do was stand there, and all eyes were on him. He attracted loyalty and respect like a magnet, and everyone was bound to succumb to his power. And yet, in contradiction to the unsettled beating of your heart, you felt a deep sense of calm as you spent these moments beside him.

You looked forward to his daily interventions, brief and occasionally strict if you didn't place your hands correctly to form a word, as if they were a reward.

Yes, you spent most of your time learning.

However, on rare occasions, you did have time for yourself, or rather, you allowed yourself to take this time after lessons, without practicing. You mostly used it to wash your clothes or cook. On the days when a touch of nostalgia crept into you, you cooked meals from your old life. Back when you still lived in the city.

You couldn't always find all the ingredients you needed for the recipes you now know almost by heart, but you always managed to replace what was missing. Thanks in no small part to Maurice's teaching. And when you cooked, a sweet aroma would delightfully fill the space of your hut.

Tonight was one of those days when nostalgia rang at your door. You had decided to cook a ratatouille. A simple, unadorned meal, but one in which most of the ingredients were available to you in the village: cultivating the land was also one of the things you had to learn.

You carefully chopped your vegetables, some of them already immersed in an old iron pan you'd picked up on one of Maurice's supervised outings. The aroma of the tomato melted deliciously with that of the onion, and each portion of vegetable you added to your preparation pleasantly tingled your nostrils. You remembered how, as a little girl, you used to complain that you still had to eat vegetables while your mother sliced them with a smirk on her face: “You can decide on your meal when you grow up, and to grow up, you need to eat vegetables”. At the time, you thought this was the smartest thing a person could say, and it couldn't be further from the truth. Vegetables made you grow and when you grew up, you could choose not to eat them.

You inhaled deeply, savoring the fragrance's journey through your body until it reached your lungs. You almost wanted to hold your breath, letting the aromas mingle and swirl, but perhaps too soon, you exhaled, opening your eyes. How long had it been since you closed them? You weren't sure, but your heart skipped a beat when your gaze fell on the one of an unexpected ape.

“C… Caesar?”

His name falling on your lips was the signal that you had just become aware of his presence. He had watched you lose yourself in your thoughts and chosen to remain on the threshold of your hut, not wishing to disturb your deep reflections, whatever they might be. So he waited for a gesture, a mimic, a simple sign that you had become aware of his presence, before stepping forward.

As he drew closer, a tantalizing scent came wafting up his muzzle, and you couldn't help noticing his nostrils taking in a few breaths of the aroma. In fact, he glanced at your pan placed directly on the small fire, showing you that he had just identified where the smell was coming from.

Caesar plopped down beside you, always sitting so that he could read what was going on in your eyes. He often made the excuse that this way, you could more easily see and learn the words he was signing to you, which was true, but secretly, he enjoyed being able to study the slightest expression that ventured across your face.

And you were obviously entitled to a surprise quiz on your knowledge of sign language.

Caesar took care to sign slowly, stopping when he saw a doubt creeping into your eyes, sometimes repeating the sign that was obviously causing you difficulty in understanding, until you were able to correctly state the question he had just asked you, not without a touch of pride at your success.

“ You're not eating with the colony?”

You think for a moment, looking at your hands to try to find the right gestures.

“ Want to spend some time… ”

And when you couldn't find the right word, you said it out loud again.

“Alone.” You finished, silently asking him about the right sign for this word.

He looked at you for a moment, taking in your answer, before giving you the sign for the word “ alone ”. You repeated it to memorize it, and Caesar simply nodded when you signed it correctly. A comfortable silence settled between you and he glanced once more at the vegetables simmering quietly. The delicate sound of crackling food blended perfectly with the crackling of wood being devoured by flames.

You weren't done adding the last ingredients, and you took Caesar's silence as a signal that he wouldn't be asking anything more from you right now, so you set about crumbling the fresh thyme stalks on top of your preparation.

Caesar stared at the vegetables, their sweet aromas tingling his nostrils in waves, and when your hands appeared in his field of vision, he couldn't help but watch your fingers meticulously work around the thyme stems, creating a shower of tiny leaves over your meal. And as the food bubbled, the scent of thyme mingling with the other vegetables wafted up from the pan. For a brief moment, he felt as if a magic trick had been played on him, and his green eyes found their way to yours.

He knew about cooking. He knew that humans cooked every meal they ate, with the exception of a few that could be eaten raw, such as fruit and certain vegetables. He'd seen, and sometimes even tasted, when his humans' backs were turned, some of the meals and cakes they'd left on the table in the living room of his former home. But if he'd seen the finished products, how they were made remained a mystery. Will had never taken the time to show him how he cooked his meals. So there was something… wonderfully intriguing about seeing you at work.

Your gaze was still on the pot, and as you stirred the ingredients with a piece of stick from which you'd peeled the bark, you took a deep breath. Caesar watched your eyelids flutter and close as a smile crept over your face, as if a distant memory had just gently brushed over your mind.

You felt at home, and Caesar could have fallen even deeper in adoration at the serene, contented face you offered him, if he hadn't forced himself to avert his gaze, which he knew was sometimes too intense for you to bear. It was something he took note of mentally when he looked at you intently with the simple aim of learning the core of your entire soul. When his eyes settled on you for a little too long, you had this habit of rolling your shoulders, as if to rid yourself of some invisible tension, a self-conscious smile tacked to your lips, while your arms wrapped tightly around your chest to protect yourself from his inspection.

Caesar decided to keep his gaze on the contents of your pan, figuring it would be easier to suppress the gentle tingling sensation that was creeping traitorously into the pit of his stomach.

“It's… a meal that… my mother used to cook for me.” You spoke fondly, but with a hint of incertitude in your voice.

You didn't talk much about your past, just as Caesar didn't talk much about it either. Hearing you mention a memory that seemed to be cherished in your heart, though not sure it was the right thing to do, had softened the usually serious expression on Caesar's face.

Caesar nodded quietly, accepting your recollection as a gift, a token of trust. Even if these memories were attached to humans and to life before the release of the apes, they were memories that made you who you were today. Not allowing or accepting them would be like not accepting… you. And Caesar was already far beyond that.

You smiled again, your gaze lost in your memories. It was hard for him to understand how a simple scent could take you so far in thought, but after all, it wasn't for him to judge the complex emotions that must have been running through you at that moment.

“The same food?”

Caesar's gruff voice caught your attention, and a hint of joy lit up your face at his sudden interest in your past.

“Not quite.” You replied, still smiling. “I take the peppers off, I don't like them,” you giggled.

He huffed, slightly entertained by what seemed to be hiding a more detailed story you'd shared with your mother and didn't yet want to tell.

The smell was so tempting, it was hard to deny it. He watched you pick up the pot using a thick piece of cloth, so as not to burn yourself, and serve you a portion of food in a bowl. It was then that he caught himself thinking that maybe, some day, you'd agree to share with him this meal that seemed so dear to you.

#caesar x reader #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #caesar pota #caesar x human reader #pota #kingdom of the planet of the apes

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

AITA for editing my sister’s college essay?

[☀️🛟🎓 to find it later]

I (22f) have a younger sister (17f) applying to college this fall. Her english class recently gave an assignment that was essentially “write your common app”. For context, I am known for editing college application essays, I have done so for several family friends, and I don’t pull punches. As such, I asked if I could help edit her essay, and she agreed.

It was a great essay!! I helped her out with some smaller grammatical things and to tighten up sentences, and she submitted the class assignment.

Here’s where I may be the asshole. Later that night I kept rereading the essay, and I noticed a few issues in the middle portion. I wound up heavily editing the essay on my own document to make the emotions came across clearer and to tie in some key metaphors.

The next day, I wound up asking if I should share this document with her, and she ended up agreeing. I tried to give her an out because I could tell she was a bit annoyed, but she insisted that I share it now that I brought it up. Immediately after I shared it she called me crying, saying that she felt as though I had steamrolled over her work. She was sad because she liked it, and angry that I butted in. To be frank, I did inject too much of my own voice into this rewritten essay.

My sister has admitted to feeling very pressured when compared to me, as I achieved a lot academically and have a steady career. My parents and I have tried to reassure her that she is not expected to emulate me, but no matter how many times we say it, she won’t internalize that I am NOT a bar she needs to measure up to. She doesn’t seem to realize that I struggled and failed so many times in so many ways b/c she didn’t actually see it; she was too young at the time.

I want her to grow beyond what I could achieve, and I want her to be confident in herself. She’s incredibly smart, but she thinks I’m smarter because we have different strengths and she devalues her own.

I feel guilty because it was not my intention to “lord over her” by writing her essay “better”; our writing styles are different, but her essay came across as dry and I wanted to give an example of how she could inject more emotion into the turning point, which is arguably the most important part of a college essay. However, I fear she took it badly, and I should have been more careful given how she views me.

I really don’t want her to make the same mistakes I did with my college applications, and I know that getting into college has become incredibly difficult post-pandemic. Objectively, some of her test scores are below where mine were, and her extracurriculars, while good, are slightly “less” than what her peers are doing (our high school is extremely competitive) so I want to ensure her essays are as polished and punchy as possible to give her the best shot at getting into the colleges she wants. We’re not hiring any college application tutors, so I’m the only major mentor she has for this, since our parents did not attend college in the US.

My sister and I def talked it out and we both apologized to each other, so we’re all good. I admitted to being too pushy, she admitted to not handling criticism well and putting me on a pedestal, and we both agreed to handle essay help differently in the future.

AITA here? On the one hand, I was harsh in my delivery and should have given her more opportunity to edit using her voice instead of forcibly tossing mine into the mix. One the other hand, college apps are getting tougher and tougher and she needs as much help as she can get (not a dig at her intelligence, everyone needs help these days). Though sis and I worked it out, I’m curious to know what the general opinion is.

#aita #am i the asshole

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anundyingfidelity · 1 day

Text

BLIND COLORS — Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean finally makes a confession, but you don't feel the same way.

Pairing: Dean x female!asexual reader.

Word count: 1k.

Notes: this is part of @artyandink Jensen's drabble marathon. 🫶 as an ace girl I think it was good to start with an ace reader as well, I don't know if someone has wrote about this before but I just wanted to do it. This is based on my own personal experience as an ace and how I feel and see it, we're kind of ignored everywhere so just trying to make us more visible I guess? Hope I did it justice anyway and happy pride month to everyone! <3

GEN MASTERLIST!

If you’d like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

There has been an unresolved tension between you and Dean. The only problem was that you didn't really notice that. But Sam, on the other hand, did, and he was wondering if you would ever realize how attracted to you his brother was.

It was just a case, like any other, that you were working on together. A poltergeist that had appeared in a small town you were driving near by and of course, you had to stop before at least you got home. The same things as always happening: going undercover, interviewing any witnesses, getting clues, reading some old stuff, calling Bobby for help...

So you found yourself invested on research with the Winchesters in complete, utter silence in their motel room. It was already dark and you had no dinner yet. You heard Sam turning off his laptop and getting up the couch until he walked towards you and Dean, sitting in the dinning table reading and marking stuff in old documents.

"It's late already, I'll go grab something to eat," Sam said, looking at you and then turning his gaze to his brother for more than a couple of seconds.

Dean shifted in his seat, realizing he had to be alone with you. Again.

During the past few weeks, Dean had been thinking on how to confess his feelings for you, and Sam was actually encouraging him to do it whenever it was fit. You were pretty chill with cases, even the difficult ones, and this was just another job for you. A love confession wouldn't harm, would it?

Thing was that Dean didn't want to ruin your friendship, and you seemed too naive to understand the subtext between his attempts at hitting on you and constant flirting, or the way he would remark suggestive things. You just laughed back at him and continued with your life, and maybe he had to do something.

He cleared his throat after his chain of thoughts, staring at you for a moment and then going back to Sam. "A cheese hamburger will work for me."

"I think a sandwich is good," you said. "Thanks."

"Alright, I'll be back soon," Sam announced and he gave a last glance at his brother, communicating in a way they only knew.

As always, you didn't pay attention to what was going on, instead, you went back to mark something in your notebook while checking an old file. Sam left the room and you were alone with Dean. Quickly, you were so invested on your notes that he began to think it was a bad idea. But he had to try.

"Hey, can I talk to you about something?" Dean asked. You lifted up your gaze to see him.

"Go ahead."

He shifted uncomfortably, but smiled nonetheless and pursed his lips in a tight line before speaking.

"I, uhm, I feel that I have to tell you that... I like you. Like a lot, a damn lot. We've known each other for years, and I- I don't know, it just happened. I'm very attracted to you and been trying to find a way for you to notice that, but I guess I might just have to tell you straight away."

The whole time his voice was calm and soft, and you found yourself looking directly into his deep, green eyes as he confessed. And then, you actually noticed the change in Dean. He stopped hooking with random women in bars, stopped flirting with them in front of you, and instead, he would flirt with you and then remark sexual stuff. But you didn't see him that way, at least not the sex part. For you, it was almost irrelevant, even though Dean was a very handsome man you just couldn't bring yourself to feel sexually attracted to him, nor anyone.

"Dean, I like you but... Is not like that for me," you said in a whisper.

He blinked a couple of times as his softened eyes remained on yours. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not... I'm not sexually attracted to you. Or anyone, is just- I don't know how to explain it, but sex isn't everything to me. I just don't get to feel it," you began, but afraid he might judge you, you continued. "Is like I'm blind to a color, I can't see it. I can't see the point on that, and I cannot give it to you if that's what you're looking for."

Dean had a look on his face you couldn't decode. You knew he wasn't probably used to being turned down, but it was the truth. You never really fit into that. He finally gave a nod, slowly with a soft smile.

"Okay, I understand that. I just wanted you to know, I'm sorry, I didn't want to mess up our friendship."

"You didn't, trust me. I think you're the first person to not judge what I feel anyway," you said, smiling as well but looking away.

"Why would I do that? It's your choice, I mean, is perfectly fine."

"It's not really a choice for me, you know, I can't feel it. Really, it never has grown in me, and a lot of people have judged me for that... I don't need to find the right person to feel like a complete woman, is just who I am and that's alright."

Dean smiled more for himself this time. That was the reason he liked you so much. You didn't give a crap about anything and you were just you, and he loved that from you.

"I understand that. You being you is what has drawn me to you," he said and you chuckled softly. Even when you turned him down, he would still try. "I'd like to know more about it, if it's okay."

"You'd like to?" you asked with a playful voice, and sounding surprised. "Really?"

He shrugged. "I've met gays, lesbians, trans people who are great... What's with understanding one more?"

"Right," you nodded. "We don't really fit the norm, do we?"

"You don't have to. I told you, I like you like this," he said, proudly.

There was a heat covering your cheeks at how he looked at you. Maybe you didn't experience a physical attraction in regard to sex, but how about falling in love with someone? You had such a long time without letting your feelings flourish.

"Thank you, I like you a lot too."

Dean taglist (some of them I can't tag them sorry :/)

@thesilmarillionblog

@onlyangel-444

@daisy-the-quake

@jackles010378

@cassieriddle713

@deans-spinster-witch

@feyresqueen

@drasticemotions

@stoneyggirl2

@sapnaploves

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x asexual reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x ace reader

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evdarlin · 2 days

Text

School Kid Crush

*A/N okay so this is the first thing I've wrote since I was like 18 writing about one direction so I'm sorry if its complete dog shit. I tried and kinda want to make it a series maybe if people actually like it but yeah be easy on me pls*

From the moment that I met Spencer Agnew on my very first day at Smosh as the new Games PA, we instantly clicked. We would spend every lunch together quoting obscure movies or Family Guy. We hung out at each other’s apartments many weekends, me just watching him play video games or forcing him to watch Bridgerton with me. There was something there and I think we all could feel it. Spencer was always the one I could go to geek out about the things I always thought I was being annoying talking about. It was almost like I had met my other half which could only be explained as the most terrifying but best feeling in the world. The whole office knew that there was something there but I might be speaking for myself but I did not want to act on it solely from my own relationship problems and that we were coworkers and did not want to make things so complicated. So for now, we are just good good friends who might just be completely infatuated with each other.

Walking into the Smosh office on Friday morning felt like every other morning on the last day of the week. I didn’t get enough sleep and would rather have been curled up back in my bed asleep but someone has to pay rent. Once I arrived at my desk directly across from Courtney’s, I could see that some sweet angel had placed my dear alani drink right in front of my computer. There was only one person who could have brought that for me and I knew it was Spencer so I took off to the Games pod to thank him dearly.

“Have I ever told you that you are a godsend and have saved my life on multiple occasions?” I say while walking up to Spencer’s desk.

“Well yes but have I ever told you that you are severely overdramatic with your words?” He said as he swiveled around in his chair.

“Alright that’s rude but I’ll let it slide since you brought me a drink sir.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the little couch in the small space. The office was pretty quiet this morning which is unusual but I welcomed it. “How long do you think it’s going to take before someone is yelling in here?”

“I say give it about ten minutes when Angela comes in and sees that she has to take care of that baby today” Spencer laughed and almost on cue heard Chanse cackling at Angela.

“Are you going to Courtney and Shayne’s combined bachelor party tonight?” Spencer suddenly looked nervous asking this question which is new for him around me that is.

“Yeah, I was going to head home after work to change then head over to the place, are you going?” I asked, praying and hoping he was going not wanting to miss a chance to hang out with him outside of these four walls of the Smosh office.

“Well seeing as you just said you were going then absolutely I am. Um, can I pick you up and drive you to the party maybe?” There it was again, the nervous look on his face.

“Of course!” I said maybe a little too fast and too enthusiastic, “I mean yeah that would be okay, that way I could have at least one or two drinks while I’m there.” I did not recover from that at all but maybe he won’t notice but seeing that smirk on his face, I am wrong.

“Then I will be there to pick you up at 7:30ish, does that sound okay?” Spencer asked, seeming to be a lot more relaxed now that I said yes.

“Sure! That gives me plenty of time, see you later Spen!” I gave him a small wave and walked back to my desk to get started on my small list of tasks I mentally gave myself to get done before filming started and I had zero free time until 5 p.m. As I walked back to my desk I was brought back to how nervous Spencer was asking me if he could drive me to the party. I mean we carpool sometimes to work and even ride together to function outside of the workplace so this shouldn’t be any different right? Oh god, is this a date? Does he know it’s a date? It can’t be a date when it’s Courtney and Shayne’s day right? I’m spiraling and don’t even notice that I ran right into Tommy.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention at all!” I stopped to make sure I didn’t cause some huge mess by running into him.

“It’s okay Y/N! You were really deep into thought there love, you doing okay?” Tommy asked with concern written all over his face, I suppose you can tell I was going through it up in my head.

“Uh well not really but I’ll be okay.” We both started walking towards our desks, I hoped to change the subject so I no longer had to think about what’s going on inside my head but Tommy had other ideas.

“Is it Spencer? I can totally fight him if you need me to or I can hide his Kickstarters until he apologizes to you.” Tommy giggled but stopped as soon as he saw how deep red my face had become.

“Wha- How did you know?” You mean to tell me the rest of the office knew how I truly felt about Spencer, shit.

“Oh honey, the man is completely infatuated with you and I also know you’re infatuated with him. I truly thought you guys were already together and just keeping it a secret for personal reasons. You know it’s okay to like him right? I know about the whole relationship problems you’ve had in the past but I don’t think Spencer is like that actually I know he’s not.” Tommy stopped walking to put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“Nope, nope, nope. You’re wrong, I know of no such infatuation you speak of Tommy Bowe.” I avoided eye contact the entire time but eventually sighed, “Is it that obvious?”

“Eh, kind of but hey it’s okay to like someone even if you guys work together. You guys have been attached at the hip ever since you started here and I think you might be the same person. I do not think he’s going to ghost you like every other piece of shit man who has entered your life.” Tommy knew more than maybe anyone about how much self doubt I have put on myself from constantly just men stopping talking to me out of nowhere. It didn’t matter if he said he was different, none of them were. They all were the same.

“I know he is a good person Tommy but I’m not sure I could deal with losing him as a friend and even worse I would have to see him every single day at work. I promise I’m just in my head a little bit, I’ll be okay.” I gave my most convincing smile and headed to my computer to start on my work for the day.

The work day honestly flew by without any more emotional spirals even at lunch when I could see Tommy giving me those knowing looks from across the table anytime Spencer did anything remotely nice for me. I left the office the minute it hit 5 p.m. just wanting to get out of there, I didn’t even wait for Spencer to walk with him in the parking lot. I needed to get to the comfort of my apartment and be alone before I had a full blown panic attack, not to mention I needed to get ready for this party. I made it home in record time with just enough time to get ready and sit in silence and think about what I should do. I decided to say screw it and just bring up my conversation with Tommy and see what happens. Do I know what’s going to happen? Not at all but you know what I need to do something to stop this spiral. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door was I saw that Spencer said he was outside. Spencer was waiting outside his car for me and even opened the door for me, what a gentleman.

“You were nowhere to be found after work dude, where the hell did you go?” Spencer asked, closing the door as I settled into the front seat.

“Sorry, I started feeling bad so I had to get out of there. Hope you didn’t get attacked in the parking lot without your guard dog.” I laughed as he started his car and headed towards the place where the party was being held.

“You are literally shorter than me which is saying a lot but I was a damsel in distress and you just left me alone to die.” Spencer pretended to wipe a fake tear and looked over at me giggling. “But were you okay? Like nothing happened right?”

“Yeah I was fine, Tommy just got me thinking and I just got a little overwhelmed but promise I am perfectly fine now!” I smiled and let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “It um actually was about you if I’m being honest?”

“Me? I swear whatever it was I didn’t do it.” Spencer threw his hands up but I grabbed the wheel and gave him a glare.

“He did say that if you hurt my feelings he was going to hide your drinks until you apologize to me,” I looked over at him preparing myself for what I was going to say next, “He also said he thought we were together and were pulling a Courtney and Shayne”.

“Hm, Tommy thinks we’re famous enough to hide our relationship like that? Wow, I am flattered.” Spencer laughed looking over at me then stopped because he realized this might be a serious conversation. “Wait, being in a relationship with me sounds so terrifying to you that you had to book it out of the office?” I looked over and saw that we had already arrived at the place but I knew our conversation was not going to end just because we were here.

“No! I just got in my head and was so scared that if you knew that I had this massive ass school kid crush on you, it would ruin this friendship we have built. I have no clue what I would do if you were not in my life, Spencer, honestly.” I realized I have just told him about this crush I have on him with my word vomit so there was no turning back now. “I like you alright, I like you a lot and it’s so damn scary because I’m terrified to lose you in any sense of my life.”

“A massive crush you say?” Spencer started giggling and all I could do was glare at him ready to smack that smirk off his face. “I like you too dummy, I thought you knew already and just saw me as your dorky coworker who also is your best friend. I promise you’re not losing me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me now babe.” He smiled and leaned over to give me a soft kiss. A kiss that I think I have been waiting for what felt like years, a kiss that seemed to let go over all of my insecurities and finally felt safe and confident in a relationship. “Now, let’s go into this party and steal Courtney and Shayne’s thunder.”

We started to walk to the door of the place, hand in hand, and ready to face all of our coworkers. The only thing you can hear as soon as we walked into the room was a far away “FUCK YEAH” which I can only place as Angela screaming.

#smosh #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader

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ideasarestuckinmyhead · 2 days

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I saw the camping date and I loved it but what about a the campers au auron and rook go on date but the kids pull it off.

Like the campers do team work and all together they make a nice nature date for there favorite camp counselor rook and get auron to get out of his office

( bonus points for a kid to try and sing a romantic song only to fail and angel just puts on jazz)

Help from some Cherubs and Cupids.

Auron already knew the kids and counselors were going to try something today. Charlie didn't look him in the eye when he asked the blonde if the others were planning something. So before he could poke a bit Casper popped out of no where saying the kids wanted to see him for a second.

Confused the older man out of the boys walked to the children's cabins where they all were sitting. Some of the little girls ran up to him and started to bombard him with questions about his relationship. Feeling a smile creep up on his face he asked the kids bluntly about the reason behind this.

"Yes, me and counselor Rook are together. Why do you ask children?" Looking down att eh kids they gave each other a cheeky grin.

"Have you gone on a date yet?" A brown haired kid asked, Josh, Auron recalled his name. The red head shook his head at the question. There wasn't a lot of time to go on a date this summer because if the Camp.

"But you have to go on a date! It's a rule when your in a relationship!" A ginger kid said giving Auron a serious look. Causing him to chuckle and cross his arms at the kiss who agree with Shelby, the ginger kid. Why are these kids to interested in his love life? Did Rook say something?

"Well I can't have dates because I need to look after all of you. Now go on its time for your activities to start. Be good for the other counselors okay?" The kids protested but with a soft stern look went to go do the activities. The first one being art's and crafts with Rook, if they can't get information out of him they'll have to do.

"Hey kiddos! Ready to paint pretty ro-" The partner of Auron was suprised when every small eyes snapped on them. They were flooded with questions about dates and if Auron ever took them on one. Rook sighed as the kids weren't listening so they decided to do something about it.

"If you hear me clap once!" They clapped a few followed, "If you hear me clap twice!" There was more this time, "If you hear me clap three times!" All of them clapped in unison with Rook. Now that was out of the way Rook told them all to sit down to paint the rocks.

"Now, I'm going to let SOME of you ask me a question so who ever I pick ask me a good one okay?" There was groans of protest but Rook gave a 'behave' look. There was one kid who decided to shoot one at them.

"Would you have a date in the forest here? Since you can't go to the city and have one?" Catching all attention the curiosity grew as little eyes locked on Rook again. Blinking the adult was confused on the question and before they could speak another counselor came by.

"Are y'all givin Rook here a hard time?" Asking Seth, the brown haired man looked at the kids. He was told by Auron to check on Rook since it seems the kids were rowdy today. Seth was wondering why but after hearing the question his thoughts were answered.

"No! Are we Mx. Rook?" Puppy dog eyes looked at Rook. And the adult sighed giving Seth a head shake, to not feed into it.

"Their fine, but they do need to start on their activity before they have to go to the next one." This caused the kids that did want to paint rocks go into gear. Hopefully the next patch of kids can get answers out of Rook.

Meanwhile in the canteen Boo was asked about how to make goods for a date. The baker cocked a eyebrow at the children lookin up at them.

"With love of course." Answering bluntly Boo asked one of them to pass them a whisk to stir their bowl with. One kid gave them a 'are you serious' look and Boo laughed at it. Sighing they decided to give a question in return.

"Why? Is there someone you wanna impress?" Smelling mischief in the sugary goodness they were making Boo gave a cheeky grin at the kids. Who looked at each other having. A silent conversation before getting Boo involved.

"We wanna help Mr. Auron and Mx. Rook have a date!" Roxanne answered a lil girl with pigtails exclaiming happily. But then gave a droopy look at she added to her statement. "But we don't know how to bake things. Also we don't know how to set one up too!" Feeling their heart soften for the kids Boo looked at one of the boys.

"Go get counselor Alphonse for me 'kay?" The black haired boy nodded and sprinted off. "If you kids wanted to do that y'all coulda just asked!" Placing a batch of cookies in the oven Boo yelled in the back to Lucien who was making lunch for the kids.

"OI BIG RED!" A head popped out looking at them.

"HUH?" Shouting back the taller man was confused.

"WERE HELPING THE KIDS GET RED HEAD AND MONARCH A DATE! COOK UP SOME FOOD FOR THEM WOULD YA?" The kids cheered at the words. Then ran off to go get the other adults in on it, why did they think of this before?

Word spread fast between the camp, the adults were pitching in when they could. Angel and Alphonse distracted Rook with helping them with the kids asking questions. Charlie and Casper was in charge of watching Auron, who didn't hear the commotion because if the paper work he needed to finish.

Boo and Lucien made the food for the date, Angel helped with the music, and Seth with Scout was able to find a clearing in the woods. Jack, Finn, Sunflower, and Buddy decorated the set up while the kids helped too. Star was picking out an outfit for Rook to change into and Faust was doing the same for Auron. Everyone was doing their part, but before everyone could finish Auron was suspicious of how quiet it was.

Seeing Auron come out of his cabin Charlie rushed to the others. Casper decided to try and stall their boss, so in a effort they decided to make up a lie.

"Auron I think the toilets clogged again." Pointing to one of the farthest bathrooms. Auron groaned at that didn't he JUST get them fixed last week? Grumbling he followed Casper who was behind him with keys. Meanwhile Charlie kicked everyone in overdrive with saying how Auron was on his way.

Some kids rushed off to where Casper was to help them, and the rest focused on making the clearing look perfect. Rook was cleaning up during all of this wondering where everyone went. But Star ended up running to them, causing a paint cup to spill all over their uniform. Glaring at the other counselor Star apologized.

"Here come to the cabin I have something you can wear!" Happy that their plan worked out Star dragged Rook into their cabin. Rook was confused on why they were getting into a dress but decided why not. When this was happening Auron was locked in the bathroom, a but annoyed he interrogated Casper.

"Casper, why the hell are you doing this? Unlock this door right now." Casper was twirling the keys and blew a raspberry at the door.

"Hhmm no! Not yet at least." Looking around they spotted the bluenette with a suit in his hands. Waving they ignored Auron hitting the bathroom door. When Faust finally reached the bathrooms they unlocked it and the younger brother chucked the cloths at him.

"Put that on or I'll tell Rook about your diary." Grinning Faust loved the surprised look he was given. Casper giggling before closing the door and Faust yelled through it. "Hurry up too Rook's waiting for you!" Grumbling was heard behind the door as Auron changed.

Rook being dragged by Star wondered why they were going into the woods. But gasped at the fairy lights and decorations they saw as they walked more into the trees. There was the kids all in fancy-ish clothing looking at Rook with wide eyes and smiles.

"Awe did our kiddos turn into Cherubs? This is so beautiful you guys!" Looking around Rook touched one of the flowers cascading down a tree. Then looking at the adults who gave them smiles and thumbs up. Before they could speak again a familiar voice was hear.

"-lock me in a BATHROOM then make me walk out of here in a suit? Why are we even....oh." Scolding turned into surprise as Auron looked at everything. Then seeing Rook in a outfit that suited them well, smiling at his partner he turn to the kids.

"So, that's why there was a lot of questions today huh?" The kids looked at him sheepishly. But one if them started to sing, it was Anna, a girl who wanted to become a singer.

"So this is love! Hmm hmm hmm so this is what makes life divine!" Humming out the other kids started to join. Giggling Rook walked to Auron and held their hand out. The red head got the hint, bowing slightly he gave a charming smile.

"May I have this dance?" Love filled his words as he brought Rook close to him. Both spinned around slowly as they danced to the song the kids sang. But then one coughed loudly, falling to the ground hacking up a lung.

"OH ARE YOU OKAY JOHN?" Rook asked panicked letting go of Auron to rush to the kid. He was a little boy around seven that had asthma, which caused the other adults to panic a bit.

"I'm...I'm fine I think I shallowed a fly! Eeewww!" Grossed out he spit on the ground, the other kids gagged at the thought. Angel quickly got their radio out of a bush and to fix the mood played a song from one of the stations. The couple after being told that really he was okay slipped back into their romantic aura again.

After dancing and holding each other the other adults ushered the kids away. It was turning into night time, and the kids have a set bedtime to adhear too. There was complains of 'I'm not sleepy!' And 'But I wanna see more!' All ended up in yawns as the kids tried to rub sleep from their eyes.

"Their good kid's aren't they?" Acknowledging Rook laid their head on Auron's shoulder. They felt a kiss on their forehead as they were guided to the small table with the food.

"They really are. Our own Cherubs, it's sweet they did this for us. I don't remember the last time we had alone time." Pulling out Rook's chair Auron pushed them in for the table. Then going to his side and sitting down, then both held each other's hands. It was nice, they finally had their own time away from the camp.

The night continued of Auron and Rook chatting, even enjoying the food Lucien and Boo made for them. Then Rook asked about the bathroom thing he was scolding Casper about before coming here. It was funny to hear after being annoyed that the plumbing might be fucking up again he got locked into he farthest bathroom from this clearing.

Rook laughed and Auron rolled his eyes, but he couldn't take his off of his partner. They look amazing, it made getting locked in a bathroom worth it, just so he can see them like this.

#red rants #yuurivoice #yuurivoice auron #red answers #red writes

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cherry-pop-elf · 2 days

Text

Sweet As Sweets

Fred Weasley x Chubby! Reader x George Weasley

(Can be read as platonic, because we all wish we had someone to comfort us on a sensitive topic like this)

Summary: You were being bullied by a gaggle of students for your weight. You were just enjoying a trip to Honeydukes with your friends. Made you self conscious, and that didn’t fly over the twins heads. They are going to fix your problems. Every last one of em

Warnings: Eating disorders, topics of weight, bullying, lots of weight talk, insecurity’s, the twins getting violent because no one hurts their loved ones

“Well if it isn’t my favorite trio-“ Mrs. Flume would beam, as she saw you three. You and the Weasley twins. All smiles. Every time it was time for Hogsmeade, you three had to come to the candy shop. Who can resist Honeydukes? Certainly not you three. Not to mention she adored the twins. They were always happy to help her, and gave her such wonderful ideas for new treats. She knew that the day they made their shop a reality that she would be more than happy to offer to stock their shelves with sweets. Honeydukes in Diagon alley. A perfect business prosper!

“Hey Mrs. Flume!” You waved, as the twins were already quick to help her with the bag in her hands. Fred with holding it, while George with putting what was needed on the shelves. Some things just needed a human touch, after all. Had you giggle. They were tricksters, sure, but no one can argue that they were business savvy. It’s what made you respect them so much. Jokes, but knowing there was a time and place.

“I was hoping to see you lot again soon. Oh there is this new candy my husband and I created. You three always have such wonderful opinions. Who better to know what kids like than kids themselves?” She would beam to you, and you had to smile. Such a sweet woman. Suppose you three really rubbed off on her.

“I’ll be right back. Boys, can you help me a moment?” She would ask, as the twins gave mock salutes to her. Had her chuckle at their Go Gettem attitude. Had her ruffle their beanies, that kept that vivid orange hair safe and warm. Off to work they went, as you stayed behind. Just admiring the beautiful shop.

“No surprise you are in here again.” Someone would call out to you. Your heart dropped, as you knew that voice. Was one of those prefects. Not the ones like Percy. Those who drank on power, and liked to abuse it. You couldn’t argue with them, or they would take house points from you. Even if you were in the same house. Made it sting more that your own house could wish such pain.

“Leave me alone.” You grumbled, as you tried not to face the gang. You didn’t want to. That gang of prefects was always bullying people like you. People who didn’t starve themselves to the point those high cheek bones were a product of starvation. They felt better than you because they were on the opposite end of the spectrum of hunger. They had their own battles, but they were taking it out on people. Spreading the toxic disease.

“What? Mouth already stuffed full?” Another one of prefects mocked, as they made a pig snout pull at their nose. Followed by oinking, as the gang echoed it. Had your eyes water, as you tried to cover your ears with your hat. Anything to make them shut up.

“Stop hogging all the sweets. We know you are one, but move-!” And a sharp push was given to your side. Had you squeak, as you plopped on your butt. The chain reaction causes you to hit the side of a counter, and pumpkin fizz soak your clothes.

“Now you STINK like one to-!” They continued to mock, as your eyes water. You just couldn’t take it. They were always following you into whatever shop you went. If it had food in it, even though you didn’t go to eat, they haunted you. They were probably jealous you were such good friends with the twins. More like had friends in general, that weren’t surface level. Regardless you would stumble upwards. Slipping on the soda, as you ran out into the snow. Sobbing, as the twins returned.

“Hey, where did-?” Fred puzzled, before the gaggles of prefects quickly hushed. Playing dumb, as they all looked around. Pretending to be curious of what the shop had to offer, while George noticed the fizzy footprints. That made him nudge Fred, and he took the hint. The duo soon outside, to see you sniffling in a frosty bench.

“What happened?!” The twins asked, as they hurried over. George was quick with a hot air charm, just like Molly taught him, as Fred looked over the scene. The orange soda unable to hide your tear stained cheeks.

“I eat alot, that’s what happened!” You hiccuped, as you rubbed your eyes. That had the twins sigh. Not in annoyance, or bother. But in empathy. Not the first time those prefects bullied someone your shape.

“And? We eat alot to!” George tried to defend, but you just sniffled more. “But you two don’t get fat-!” You hiccuped again, as Fred was sitting next to you.

“Oh come off it. Mum’s fat!” And that had George smack his shoulder. “SHE IS-! But that doesn’t mean she isn’t our mum. She’s big, and big ain’t bad. She and we don’t get along that well, but she’s still a wonderful mum.” Fred tried to clarify.

“Yeah. Also the best hugs. Our hugs suck because we’re sticks and bones.” George tried to tease. It was nice, though. They said Fat but not with that negative energy. Was just another word. Wasn’t sugar coating things at all. They were being honest, and not trying to make you feel better to stop your crying. Their words were real. Had you calm down, a little.

“Also, like look-“ George added, as he finished the charm. “You know how us Weasley’s are. Food is like a language. We like food. Food brings people together. And when we become business men, it’s gonna be the best way to say we care.”

You were understanding what he was trying to say. The Weasleys were a poor family, but they tried to feed. Hence why the older siblings were thinner than the younger. To try and make sure the younger ate. But with siblings moving out, getting jobs, food is able to not be so sparse. Food was now a enjoyment, compared to survival.

"When we make it big, I hope we can get fat id anythkng-!" That had you roll your eyes, but you were grasping what they meant. Still, you couldn’t help but pinch at a roll on your stomach.

“Oh stop that.” Fred would soon trap you in a hug. Made you unable to move your arms, as George joined in. Trapped between them too. Forced to listen, and unable to degrade yourself more.

“Charlie is also fat. Like he can’t keep flexing twenty four seven.” George added, as you recalled meeting him before. He was an extremely well built man. Excess mass is still excess mass. He’s right. You can’t just flex all the time. Even muscular guys are squishy.

“But-“ You couldn’t finish your thought, as Fred poked your nose. “Don’t say ‘but he actually has muscles’ you baby. We would love you if you were built like a train, or as skinny as a wooden one. So shut up about that.” Fred would lecture you.

“Not to mention you aren’t even that big. Like come on. Like COME ONNNNN-“ George would whine, as he plopped his head on your shoulder. “Like come on. So what if you eat a little more. You actually ENJOY food. Like come on.” He grumbled on.

“We rather be friends with someone who enjoys our cooking, and experiments to eat, than a skinny asshole who thinks just eating a slice of bread is going to murder you. Like this whole thing is dumb. Skinny this, fat that. Lame.” Fred would huff, as their own bodies were suffering issues.

The twins were very skinny, and that was a fact. They had developed muscle, from quidditch, sure. But they also were still underweight. It was so hard to keep on weight, given how much work they did. Suppose it can be exhausting being told you had a body to die for, when you hated it to begin with. Helped you see that maybe there were just as much perks to being plus size, as there were to being skinny. It’s your body. What’s with everyone wanting to be in your business?

“Come on. You deserve to edulge a little. Come on.” The twins would flutter their eye lashes, in that Halo Wearing way, and you snorted. They would call that a victory, as they smooshed their cheeks with yours. Warmth, love, and affection. What you needed.

“We will be right back. Trust us. Just enjoy the snow-“ They winked, before running back inside. You were a bit confused, but figured better not to question it. They were the twins after all. You made a guess someone’s going to be set on fire.

Seems you were right. It was a little while, but you soon saw the gaggle of school yard bully’s run outside. Their hair indeed on fire, and faces flushed heavily. As if they ate some kind of spicy candy.

They were all so desperate to stop the heat, and were soon all jumping into snow banks. Desperate to stop the burning. Just rolling around, and making a scene. Was such a sight, as they melted the snow. Reached the earth under it, and they were soon covered in mud. Cooled off, but a mess.

“Oink oink, wankers-!” The twins shouted, and laughed. Many of the fellow students pointed as well. Those prefects were in their own little mud baths. All to be pointed at, with laughter and mockery.

“Hey, we got some cool candy that Mrs. Flume wants us to test out. Let’s hit up The Three Broomsticks to try it out-!” George would cheer, as he held up the large bag of sweets. A mixture of bought, gifted, and experimental.

With Fred helping you stand up, to give you some pride and dignity, you would look through the open doorway. There was Mrs. Flume. She seemed to be closing the lid to a candy jar full of red little balls of sweets. When you two met eyes, she gave a hush. With a wink. You would nod your head to her, with a smile, before the twins yanked you off to your next adventure.

“I see someone took up your advice on prank candy.” You giggled, as those twins gave gasps. Making ‘who, us?!’ And fake looks of disbelief. That just had you all laughing even more, as they kept up the dramatic little scene of pretend innocents.

The day could have gone better, but then again the twins found a way to indeed make it better anyway. Such as snuggling with you in a booth. No shame between you three, as you enjoyed a nice hot meal. With butterbeer, and your favorite sweets. A day to just enjoy yourself. Cheat days were needed in life anyway.

You still were a little self conscious, but the twins were happy to help you in whatever direction you went. To be your biggest cheerleader for if you wanted to lose weight, or be your knights in shining armor for if you were contented with just the way you are.

Either way, you’ll never say no to the pure comfort of sharing sweets with the people you found sweet.

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horatiocomehome · 1 day

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Hi I was having Thoughts about my HC that Sif has heart problems, and how it’s unclear if Loop is actually like. human anymore.

So! have some post canon sif and loop conversation!

~~~

> Hey, Loop.

"Yeah, Stardust?"

(You feel their voice in your cheek where it rests on their chest, as the two of you lie in the shade.)

(You can hear them breathing, too.)

(But... you can't hear a heartbeat.)

> What even are you?

“...”

"OMG Stardust you can't just ask someone that!" Loop giggles.

> Sooo, you don't know.

"What you see is what you get! Your guess is as good as mine."

> I would've thought you would have some idea..."

"..."

(You grin.)

> After all, you look pretty bright!

"HA!"

“...But really, I don't know much. I just made my wish, and a star fell down to me. I felt like, for it to work, I had to eat it. So I did. When I woke up... I was the lovely Loop you see now!"

(Ate a star!)

(That doesn't tell you much, but you feel your heart beating faster. Their chest is still quiet.)

(Like so many times recently, memories seize you.)

(Memories of your heart going too fast and tripping over itself.)

(Memories of dying.)

"Stardust?"

(You breathe in, and out.)

(You brush your hand over the star on Loop's chest. It feels like when your hand falls asleep. It's warm.)

> Do you think you have a heart?

> Woah, I thought we were going steady! Why am I heartless all of a sudden?'" Loop jokes.

(You smile, a little.)

> You know what I mean.

"Well… I don't have any reason to think I don’t have one."

> You don't have a heartbeat though?

"...Oh!”

(Loop is quiet for a little. They're looking off into the distance.)

"Actually," they start, "I haven't really noticed my heart at all, since the loops."

(!)

"Just like you, it did me in a couple times back then!" Loop continues, a little too brightly. "I got used to paying attention to it, but I haven't had to, since!”

"...Guess it's a benefit of the job."

(So they really don't have a heart.)

(You roll over and bury your face in their chest.)

> Well then, I don't have to worry about you dying before me!

(You try to say it like a good thing, but you aren't fooling anyone.)

(You want to spend as much time as possible with them. With all of your family.)

"Stardust… you don't have to worry so much, you know. We’re safe now!"

> But what about MY heart?

> What about the times it killed me??

> What if that happens again?!

> I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU!!

(Loop wraps their arms around you. You silently hug them back.)

"You know, even stars burn out eventually."

(As soon as they say it, you know it's true. Even though, if you'd tried to dredge that up earlier, you wouldn't have found anything.)

"And I'm a very small star! So let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay? I might beat you to it after all!"

> You say that like it'll make me feel better.

(Loop flicks the top of your head.)

"Listen, Stardust. Our heart gave out because we were putting so much stress on it. But we're not doing that anymore, right?"

> ...Right.

"So you should have lots more time to spend with all of us!"

"Besides," their voice is light again, "you shouldn't be thinking about death so much anyways! we've spent more than enough time dying already."

› But...

"Just live, Stardust. Stop worrying and live.”

#teehee #it’s been a WHILE since i’ve written this was a nice thing to break back into it #I was going to write something for an AU I have but then this popped out! like alright then!#isat #sifloop #siffrin isat #loop isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #my writing #starry time

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thequestionisalwaysmangoes · 1 day

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So I’ve just made it to 20 weeks in a row of posting my shit on ao3, and its gone better than anticipated, so I’m trying this out, too. My first fic was a DCU crackfic where Lois Lane knows that Clark wants piercings but given the whole man of steel thing but then remembers that Kon had piercings and figures out pretty quickly that Tim Drake was the most likely person in Kon’s life to be able to pull that off. So naturally she shows up at his day job.

““I’m sorry, you want me to do what?” Tim Drake, in civilian clothes, in his civilian office, asked Lois Lane, who was sitting across from him, on behalf of fucking Superman.

“Pierce Clark’s ears,” Lois fucking Lane replied, “Also, maybe his tongue, depending on how the ears go.”

“I,” Tim started, “You’ve been talking to Conner.”

“Yup. Clark mentioned having always wanted a few piercings a few weeks ago, Conner came over a few days later, I asked where he got his and he got all blushy and refused to tell me, probably because of the nipple piercings or possibly another that I don’t really want to think about. So naturally, I assumed it must be you, his multitalented boyfriend that he goes to for everything and who could probably get access to everything he would need to get the job done.” She gave him a pointed look at the thinly veiled reference to kryptonite and red sun lamps.

He sighed. “Clarks birthday is next week, isn’t it.”

“Mmhm.”

Tim considered her for a minute. “I have a project I’ve been working on that I need a bit of good publicity for, but for all Bruce’s influence, the reporters in Gotham are decidedly skewed toward the dramatic. You write and publish piece for me, unbiased, and I’ll do the ears and tongue if he wants it. Anymore and we’ll renegotiate based on trauma accumulated.”

Lois grinned.”

Anyway, here’s the link if you’re interested. Also, it’s a series now. Enjoy<3

#lois lane #superman and lois #kon el #tim drake #timkon #fanfiction #timkon fic rec #i’ll probably be posting more now #hope you like it #ao3 fanfic

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bridgyrose · 3 days

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Ruby took a few deep breaths as she tried to focus on her comic book, a blush crossing her cheeks as she started to lose a bit of focus. She glanced over towards Weiss and Blake, still not sure what about them kept drawing her to look at them. Her heart fluttered for a brief moment as she looked away, no longer able to focus like before.

“Everything okay, Ruby?” Weiss asked as she looked over. “You’ve been a lot quieter than normal.”

“I-I’m fine,” Ruby said, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I think I’m getting a bit sick.”

“Then maybe I can help-”

“I’m fine!” Ruby quickly got up and made her way to the door. “I’ll be back once I’ve gotten checked.”

“Oh, well, dont be out for too long.”

Ruby nodded and started to make her way down the hall, heart still fluttering as she thought about Weiss and Blake with each step. They way they moved anytime they fought in training, the way their eyes almost seemed to glisten in the light mimicking precious stones and colored glass, and then there was the way they felt when her hands brushed up against their soft hands…

She shook her head to try to get the thoughts out of her head. She needed to focus on class, not on her teammates. And yet, no matter how much she tried, she couldnt get Weiss and Blake out of her head. It was enough to make her fall behind on her studies and struggle with her own training, though she was sure that if she had brought it up to Yang, she’d be told she should have boys on her mind instead.

Instead of making her way to the nurse, Ruby made her way to the training hall to clear her head in the only way she knew how. Training until she could forget about Weiss and Blake no matter how long it took.

“Ruby, where are you going?” Coco asked as she saw Ruby in the halls. “Shouldnt you be studying?”

“I couldnt focus,” Ruby answered as she continued to walk. “So I’m going to clear my head.”

Coco nodded and started to follow Ruby. “Then maybe I can come with you and you can tell me what’s going on.”

“Its nothing-”

“Doesnt sound like nothing to me. I’ve watched you since your initiation, so I can tell when something’s up with you.”

“Its Weiss and Blake.” Ruby paused in her step for a moment as a blush ran over her cheeks. Once again, her teammates filled her mind when she’d prefer they didnt. “I… I cant stop thinking about them. I know we’re all teammates and we need to think about each other, but this feels excessive. I cant focus on school work or training, my grades are starting to suffer and when Weiss brings it up, I cant help but feel terrible for letting her down.”

Coco smiled a bit. “Sounds like you love them.”

Ruby froze at the thought. Loving Weiss and Blake? No, that couldnt be it. Love wasnt an emotion she felt, at least not for people the way others did. She loved weapons, Crescent Rose in particular, the taste of strawberries and cookies, fighting grimm to be a hero like her mother. But to love someone, to love an actual person…

“I-I dont think its anything like that,” Ruby said quietly as she forced the words out as her voice cracked and her heart raced in her chest. The mere thought of Blake and Weiss made her legs feel like jelly and gave her a warmth in her chest that nothing else seemed to. “We’re just good friends, nothing more. Teammates, partners… that sort of thing.”

“Then if that’s the case, you should be able to focus long enough to have a competition with me, right?” Coco asked with a smirk. “If you can destroy more targets than I can, I’ll believe you. If not, then you and I are going to have a long talk.”

“Fine. But I dont see why you’re so interested.”

“Because you remind me of how I am with Velvet. And I dont want to see you make the same mistakes that I’ve been making.”

#rwby #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #weiss schnee #coco adel #whiterose #ladybug #a small series I'm going to do for Pride of Ruby figuring herself out

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frozenjokes · 7 hours

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The Art Of Being Kidnapped [1/2]

next / Ao3 link with CWs

“Byeeee! Have a nice time!” Tango’s cheery lilt echoed across the icy cavern before the metal door, built like a vault, slammed shut. A superhero Jimmy didn’t recognize rolled across the slick floor, momentum from being thrown inside carrying him a considerable distance. Sometimes Jimmy forgot Tango was quite strong; certainly not the beefiest among his line of work, but enough to send a small avian skidding across the floor of his dungeon.

The avian’s wings and hands were bound, just like Jimmy’s were, but the ropes were only meant to last for travel, and sure enough, within minutes of writhing and foaming at the mouth on the ground (which he didn’t have to do, his legs weren’t bound..), the superhero was free, flying to the door and slamming the full force of his body against it, predictably, winding himself immediately.

Jimmy stifled a laugh as the avian stumbled backwards with a heaving chest, falling into a sit to catch his breath. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed Jimmy yet, but then again, the particularly angry superheroes always took a bit more time. Unfortunate. Jimmy hoped this guy wasn’t as much of an asshole as he looked (after many years of this, Jimmy got pretty good at figuring out who he was dealing with relatively fast), but if that was the case, Jimmy was sure he could needle a larger tip out of Tango in the case that this guy really gave him trouble. This was an unusual job in the first place; Jimmy had never been asked to trap participants in a maze before, then supervise while they traversed it. But Decked Out was fun and Tango paid handsomely, so really, Jimmy didn’t mind the change of pace.

“Help?” Jimmy tried, though the hero didn’t hear him over his own banging on the door and ferocious screeching. He got a sense of dejavu watching, though he’d seen this kind of temper tantrum about a thousand times by now. Still, the familiarity of this hero was something he couldn’t quite shake.

“Hey! Help me? Please?” Jimmy wiggled a little pathetically against his restraints, far from tight, but enough not to slip out without effort. Personally, Jimmy would rather save his energy for the hero.

The avian turned, then froze where he stood, like the guy he was called to come save was the last thing he expected to see at his feet. Jimmy suppressed a sigh. This guy was going to be insufferable.

“JIMMY!?”

Jimmy stopped. Now, that sort of reaction wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for heroes that knew him, but Jimmy had never seen this one before, so unless this guy had been warned (something which, hilariously, never seemed to be the case), Jimmy didn’t know what to do with that. But the avian didn’t sound angry.. Oh, worse idea, Jimmy used to know this person. Not the least bit unlikely given he attended the shittiest college in the city with all the poorest, most troubled kids around. Jimmy hadn’t even lasted long enough to get a degree, it was just too much. Hence the work he did now.

Exactly what that was..? Well, when people asked what he did for work, he usually answered freelance. Freelance kidnapping? Freelance being kidnapped? He was still working on the title. Needless to say, living in a place like this you learn pretty quickly that 90% of the ‘superheroes’ and the villains they fight are either cripplingly insecure, pieces of shit, or both, but sometimes the wannabe villains have a bit of an attention craving they just can’t scratch on their own. It turns out that Doing Evil can be a lot of work, and sometimes you just want to take out your daddy issues on an equally unstable individual under the guise of villainy without all the fuss! So for a price, Jimmy makes the fuss for them! He’ll scream, let himself be dramatically carried away, shoved into an unmarked van, generally manhandled- whatever gets the attention of an unsuspecting superhero who Jimmy would then lead into a trap, arena, whatever he’s getting paid for, and bam! Everyone’s happy!

Some villains didn’t even want the attention of superheroes, they just enjoyed catching Jimmy off his guard, which, by the way, was not part of any of his contracts, but Joel wasn’t going to stop Kidnapping First, Paying Later anytime soon, so at this point it was just a fact of his life he had to get used to.

Oh right, the job he was doing right now.

“Do I know you?” These words seemed to snap the hero back in his facade, the avian shifting his weight in a show of nerves.

“I- no, I don’t think so. No, no, definitely not. Probably not. Sorry. Just reminded me of someone I know.”

Jimmy snorted, rolling his eyes. “Someone called Jimmy? That’s my name too, what a coincidence.”

“You don’t have a brother, do you?” The hero looked sheepish, but it was good natured, a ghost of a smile just visible under his mask.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got one. He looks exactly like me and’s called Jimmy, how did you know?”

Ther hero crossed his arms in a sweeping gesture, snarking with a scoff, “Oh shut it with the sarcasm,” but even though the tone behind his voice was teasing, Jimmy felt like he had been transported right back to his college dorm. He recognized that. He knew exactly who this was. Short, dirty blonde avian with dark talons and a darker temper? Of course he became a superhero, what a damn perfect fit for a guy like that. ‘JIMMY?’ He recognized that too. The scream, pitched in all the worst ways. After a while, every word Grian spoke was like pulling a cheese grater over and over across his ears until they were nothing but stumps. Yeah, Tango would be tipping him big today.

“Jimmy? You okay?” The direct address snapped Jimmy back to reality, though he wasn’t sure how much he had missed. Regardless, Grian did get to work, kneeling to undo his restraints. Jimmy was relieved to stretch his wings, slowly getting to his feet once the ropes were cut. “This is embarrassing,” Grian said, and Jimmy was sure it was, “Forget I said anything. I think we shared a class or two, that’s all.”

“I get it.” Jimmy mumbled, tucking his wings back. “Tango’s been sending out all sorts of reports and notices to trick people into coming out here, so it’s your lucky day I guess. You won’t be staying long though, he just wants you to run the dungeon and then you can fly off.”

Grian’s eyes were obscured by the mask, but Jimmy was pretty sure they narrowed. “I’ve never heard of a ‘Tango’ before. Who is he? How long have you been here? Is he just keeping you here as bait?” How sweet of Grian to not realize he’s been set up yet. Well, Jimmy wasn’t about to break the news if he didn’t have to.

“He keeps a low profile. Tango’s been shut in working on this place for the last fifteen years, so I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of him, especially since the location is so out of the way of the city. Decked Out is newly finished- it’s a game, basically. He wants to watch people play it. It’s not what you’d call ‘up to code’ though, so it’s pretty dangerous. Need the athletic sort to make it any bit interesting. But yeah, I’m bait.” Jimmy shrugged, “He keeps me around to explain the rules. Usually the kidnappee, you, is a little more receptive to someone on their level, me, rather than.. y’know.”

“I’ll get you out of here.”

Jimmy laughed, he couldn’t help himself, though he quieted when he saw the bottom half of Grian’s face screw up, bracing himself to be yelled at. It never came.

“I’ve heard that before,” Jimmy settled on instead, taking a careful breath. He didn’t like the way Grian was looking at him. He never really liked the way Grian looked at him; despite his softer features, Grian’s face was anything but kind.

“Well I’m sure you’ve heard this before as well, but I’m different. I do my due diligence unlike most of the douchebags in this town. Where’s the way out?”

Stubborn. Vindictive. Jimmy wondered if Grian had changed at all in the dozen years since they’d talked. He shrugged. “The gate isn’t open yet, but it should be ready soon. Until then, what should I call you?”

Grian blinked. “Oh- CuteGuy. You can call me CuteGuy.”

“Well then, CuteGuy, once you go in you’re going to get a compass-“ Jimmy stopped short at yelling from down the hall, Grian as well freezing in his place.

“UNHAND ME AT ONCE! I SWEAR if you singe my uniform I am SENDING YOU THE BILL!” Oh! Well that was a lovely surprise. Jimmy heard Tango grumble something in response, but he was mostly drowned out by HotGuy’s dramatics. Good man HotGuy was, always making sure to give those supervillains what they paid for, though, Tango wasn’t exactly looking for a fight.

At once Grian was on his toes, creeping toward the door, but Jimmy shook his head. “I would stand back.”

‘Tango breathes fire’ was left unsaid when Grian shot him a sharp glare, not listening of course, and Jimmy wasn’t about to fight him, perfectly content to watch Grian get a face full of flame as Tango swung the door open. Grian reeled back with a startled yelp, but Jimmy doubted he was actually too hurt, not when Tango was skilled in controlling the temperature of his fire. His eyes would certainly sting though; deserved, certainly, for thinking Tango wouldn’t be ready for an attack. Idiot.

In the wake of the flame, a thoroughly netted HotGuy was pushed inside, decidedly much heavier than an avian and therefore unthrowable, but HotGuy didn’t seem to mind, struggling valiantly until the metal door slammed shut, Tango continuing to grumble from the other side as he walked down the hall.

“Jimmy!” HotGuy threw up his arms, a gesture hindered by the net. Jimmy snorted, moving to help HotGuy out while he continued to blabber on, “I was hoping you’d be here! It’s been a while dude, how’ve you been? Still going strong?” HotGuy didn’t even wait until the net was entirely untangled to try and stand, movement that made everything needlessly difficult, but Jimmy didn’t mind. Though he didn’t get the chance to respond either when HotGuy screamed, practically jumping into Jimmy’s arms.

“CuteGuy! How long have you been there, standing all stiff and puffed up and angry like a miniature gargoyle, look at you!”

Grian did, in fact, look like a puffed up cat, but HotGuy’s comment snapped him out of his frozen state, shooting back with a huff, “Miniature? How big do you think gargoyles are?”

“I mean, probably pretty big! Protecting stuff and all.”

Grian sighed sharply, a sound that set Jimmy’s feathers on end. But Grian didn’t push back, changing the subject. “You two.. know each other?”

HotGuy jumped to his toes, eyes absolutely radiant as he turned to Jimmy. “He doesn’t know?” his tone was colored with excitement, and Jimmy had to laugh, shaking his head.

“Know what?” Grian snapped at HotGuy, sucking away all the joy from the air, “What don’t I know?” Jimmy couldn’t stop himself from whirling around, an aggressive movement that seemed to catch Grian off guard, surprise clear in his raised wings, but Jimmy stopped himself, shaking his head. Not worth the fight. HotGuy looked confused by the rise in tension, bringing Jimmy back down to Earth.

“I doubt anyone else will come,” he said instead, stony, “I rarely get two at once. The gates should open soon.”

Grian. God. Jimmy should be over this by now. He thought he was over it.

Jimmy was a sociable guy. Making friends wasn’t a chore for him, but keeping them was much harder, and finding perfect fits seemed nearly impossible. Oftentimes he felt very out of place. He was an athletic sort of person, sporty, but a lot more sensitive than most guys. He really enjoyed being in shape, the structure of practice and working out, but he didn’t always love the social aspect of playing competitive sports, and college football wasn’t an exception. Too much pressure, too much toeing the line of people he wanted to associate with, and don’t get him wrong, these guys were his brothers, that’s just how the intensity of college sports worked, but Jimmy never felt able to be wholly.. there. They just weren’t exactly right, not warm enough, not free enough with their interests and hobbies and love.

Grian was his randomly assigned roommate for the first semester of college dorm life, and like most people Grian was pretty reserved in the beginning. Didn’t have many friends, kept to himself, but liked to go to the dining hall and such with Jimmy if for no other reason than to have someone to go with. Grian was chatty once you got him going, and weird, unabashedly odd in all the best kinds of ways. They didn’t have many common interests, but talking with Grian made Jimmy want to check out the things he was into, to understand all his incredibly specific rants and takes on topics Jimmy had zero knowledge of. Grian was fun, a little shy at first, but genuinely delightful to listen to, confident in his opinions in the way that put you on board even when you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. He was charming! He was kind of cool in a way, the dorky kind of cool. The ‘cringe is dead and Grian killed it’ kind of way.

But even on his best behavior, Grian was always so.. angry. It changed the atmosphere of every room he entered, thick and boggy like wading through swamp water. There was just something wrong with him, like, literally wrong, the type of wrongness that sparks concern, that makes you wonder what happened? The type of wrongness that makes an outsider want to meet you with compassion, to help you, to make your miserable world a little bit less drab.

The delusions of a savior complex, really. But at first it wasn’t that bad. Grian was mostly reclusive, but despite a bit of awkwardness, he was surprisingly socially adept, charming and funny when it came to first impressions and relatively skilled at being liked by his peers. But the warning signs were there. The constant balling of his fists when the smallest thing didn’t go his way, the twitch of his strained smile, his always-tense shoulders. Grian seemed to view every social interaction like it was war, and he’d do anything to win. It was like he knew how pervasively unpleasant he was inside, how bubbling negativity coated his insides like black tar. He needed to be competitive. He needed to be on top.

And somewhere along the line Grian had decided Jimmy was the enemy.

Jimmy didn’t know what he’d done to make Grian hate him so much. Was it the positivity? Jimmy had tried to offset the stream of anger with his own suggestions; maybe she was late for class, maybe the sun was in his eyes, maybe they just missed the trash can and didn’t notice- He hadn’t been trying to challenge Grian, he didn’t even believe half of the excuses he spouted whenever Grian whined or complained about something entirely inconsequential, he just wanted his ex-roommate to realize that not everyone was personally out to get him, y’know?

How Grian decided Jimmy was one of those people working against him, Jimmy had no idea. Sometimes Jimmy thought that Grian was psychotic, like, literally in the Very Mentally Unwell sense of the word. He was just so.. defensive. Paranoid. Mean, and not always on purpose, he would just say things that dug at Jimmy’s patience until he was constantly teetering on the edge of snapping back and really making a mess of things.

Most of the time though, when Grian was mean, it was on purpose. At some point early on Grian had decided he couldn’t trust Jimmy, and god Jimmy spent so much time trying to earn that trust back just to be slighted over and over- petty things, constant criticism over the slang he used, the music he listened to- god forbid Jimmy forget something in the dorm or come back a little late from a bar after Grian had gone to sleep.

And the worst thing was, Jimmy wanted to help him! He still wanted to help Grian after months and months of being mistreated. He wanted to be a friend to someone who clearly needed some sort of support in a city that was run dry of resources for even those who could afford them. Jimmy wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up on the edge of poverty like so many of his peers, worked to help pay his parents’ debts since he was first able. He’d watched high school classmates do the same, fall to drinking or drugs, die before they even hit 18. He spent so much time being afraid for Grian, intrusive imaginings of how he might die young haunting boring lectures. Oftentimes he’d be overwhelmed by those anxieties, intense impulses sending him sprinting back to the dorm, throwing the door open certain of what he’d find, just to see Grian in his lofted bed, headphones in, glaring at his phone. Sometimes Grian would look up, meet Jimmy’s frightened eyes, then look back down. Sometimes he’d be ignored altogether. Sometimes.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

Grian knew Jimmy’s schedule by heart, memorized before even Jimmy had it down. Oftentimes, Jimmy found that Grian would get quite upset, if either of their schedules were changed last minute. If Jimmy showed up somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be when Grian wasn’t expecting it.

That made bouts like this all the more embarrassing. Grian wanted an answer. Jimmy didn’t want to know what he’d say if he heard Jimmy was worried about him for no reason. So he lied. He always lied.

“I forgot. I’ll go now.”

Grian would scoff. “Idiot.” Jimmy heard that a lot. Stupid. Dumbass. Idiot. The like.

Jimmy wasn’t stupid.

But the harder Jimmy tried, the more Jimmy pushed, the more vindictively abusive Grian became. That first semester of college were some of the worst months of Jimmy’s life. Trapped in a dorm room not much bigger than a prison cell with a guy who went out of his way to find fault with every singular thing Jimmy did. You’re so loud Jim, you’re so damn loud. That was his main complaint. As much as Jimmy loathed Grian’s voice, the other seemed to despise his own tenfold whether Jimmy was singing, talking on the phone, or simply speaking to friends while playing games, Grian had these physical reactions like he wanted to tear off his own skin. By the end of the semester, both of them sat on their sides of the room in complete silence.

Jimmy didn’t see HotGuy coming when the hero launched forward for a hug, a gesture Jimmy returned with a laugh as HotGuy squeezed, picking him up and spinning him around. At this point, Jimmy had accepted HotGuy had way too much energy to spend doing anything else, and honestly, he couldn’t say he minded. It was nice to have someone be so excited to see him.

“How long has it been? Over a year, surely!” HotGuy practically sang right into Jimmy’s ear, and Jimmy couldn’t help the dry thought of how much Grian must hate HotGuy from slipping through. “I missed you! You’ve got to come by more often, come on, work can’t be that hard to come by in the big city, huh?”

Jimmy wheezed a bit under HotGuy’s grip, tapping his shoulder somewhat urgently, “Okay, bud. Can’t breathe. Time to put me down, big man. And yeah, work can be that bad when everyone knows who you are. Sorry!”

“I’m feeling out of the loop here,” Grian cut in, but to Jimmy’s own sick delight, HotGuy didn’t even acknowledge the other hero, focus entirely on Jimmy.

“So what’s it this time? We busting you out? Dramatic chase? Explosions? Actually, I would rather not get blown up. But this guy’s got a fire thing going on, is stuff going to explode?”

“You’re not busting me out,” Jimmy waved HotGuy off when the other lingered a little too long in his personal bubble, “There’s an exit at the end of the game whether you win or lose, but since you’re going in one at a time, there won’t be any-“

THE DUNGEON IS READY FOR ITS NEXT VICTIM

The gate ahead began to churn open and cool air whooshed through, particles of ice and snow dusting the path ahead. Jimmy laughed off HotGuy’s mortified looking expression, uncomfortably avoiding Grian’s eye. He didn’t imagine a trapped Grian was a very pleasant one, and given the loaded silence as Jimmy started toward the open door, he got the sense Grian was thinking quite intensely. Jimmy had zero desire to know what was going on in that head.

“Come on,” he said, forcing a smile to a wary looking HotGuy, “It’s not too bad. I’ll grab you both your compasses and give the rundown. You’ll have to leave that bow though, sorry. It’ll be returned to you later.” HotGuy blinked back to attention, scrambling a little to catch up while Grian stayed at the rear, quiet.

“I have to leave my bow? Are you sure? I don’t know if I like the sound of the uh- dungeon. Do I get anything to defend myself? What’s down there?”

“Tango’s dogs are down there. You don’t want to shoot Tango’s dogs, do you HotGuy? Those are his pets!”

“Well-“ HotGuy looked flustered, like a guy who probably would want to shoot Tango’s dogs, but didn’t want Jimmy to know that. There was a reason Jimmy didn’t outright say Tango’s dogs were actually ravagers. “Alright, but do Tango’s dogs eat people?”

“They might shake you around a bit, but no, they won’t eat you. Plenty of people have gone through the dungeon plenty of times, lost, and hopped right back in. It’s meant to be played over and over, you’ll be fine.”

“And it’s the only way out?” Grian’s voice sliced the air, hard and focused, and Jimmy nearly jumped at the sound. Everything sounded so critical out of his mouth.

“You think I’d lie?” Jimmy couldn’t crush down the snark as he side-eyed Grian behind him, but Grian’s expression barely shifted, his wings only lowering slightly.

“I didn’t-“

“Wellllll,” HotGuy cut in unhelpfully, missing the tension as he wrapped a playful arm around Jimmy’s shoulder.

“Okay-“ Grian shook his head, hands brushing his face in loose fists, “What is going on with you two.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” HotGuy jumped up and away, instead falling back to walk with Grian, getting in his space and tousling his hair. The casual movement made Jimmy freeze in place, but Grian only squeaked, batting at HotGuy with palmed hands, careful not to catch the other’s skin with his talons. For a moment Grian met Jimmy’s eye, and then it was over, HotGuy grabbing at his hands and wrestling him without a single care in the world.. Whatever.

Warily, Jimmy left them to do their thing. He didn’t feel good about it- actually, he felt a lot like he was leaving HotGuy with a ticking time bomb, but he did have to get their compasses, so might as well go while Grian was in a good(?) mood. What a novel concept that was. Jimmy sighed, zipping up his coat as he stepped into a side room.

For a long moment he considered giving Grian a Level 2 compass, but that wouldn’t really be plausible, and honestly Grian probably wouldn’t make it out of Level 1 anyway. Tango wouldn’t be happy either; his focus was on testing how new players reacted to the game, and anything beyond Level 1 would probably be overwhelming.

Hm. Would Tango let Jimmy into the tunnels to watch Grian’s run while HotGuy was still in the waiting room? Jimmy would really love nothing more than to watch Grian scream and run around and eat shit on the icy paths, but Tango wouldn’t want HotGuy unsupervised, so it probably wouldn’t happen. Unless Jimmy sent HotGuy in first.. Surely the few extra minutes spent with Grian would be worth it. Yeah, no, that would be good. He’d give HotGuy an easy artifact spot so he’d either win or be carried out by a ravager quickly, then send Grian deep into Level 1. Yes. Perfect.

“Is this it?” HotGuy asked when Jimmy returned, fingers curled around the bars of the gate that separated the three of them from the dungeon. Grian was looking as well, though more intensely, head pressed against the bars like he wanted to gather as much information as humanly possible. Jimmy couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Yeah,” he started, slipping into his prepared speech, “So basically, the point of the game is to find an artifact hidden in the dungeon, then bring it back to the start without getting caught by Tango’s dogs. The artifact placement is random, but your compass will help you find them; they point in the direction of a hidden panel on the floor. Once you find the panel, press your compass to the spot and it will be exchanged for an artifact. Then bring it back here.”

“How do we start?” Grian turned, eager, or maybe just antsy as he eyed the compasses in Jimmy’s hands.

“Not yet, and you’ll go one at a time, HotGuy first.” Though Grian didn’t look satisfied, and in a panicked gesture to appease him, Jimmy added, “Here, both of you can take these and once you’re ready you’ll press the bottom to the indent over on the panel by the gate,” Jimmy handed the compasses over gingerly, HotGuy taking it with curious fingers and Grian outright snatching it out of Jimmy’s hand, but before Jimmy could recoil or even react, Grian was on top of the panel, slamming his compass in before whirling around and grabbing Jimmy’s hand in a vice grip.

“I’m getting you out of here. Come on, HotGuy! Let’s get this over with.”

Jimmy’s mouth ran dry as the gate screeched open, only managing to squeak out a “One at a time!” before he was yanked forward, HotGuy cheering behind him. Jimmy nearly tumbled down the steps as Grian bolted into the maze, struggling to catch his tongue enough to form words. “This really isn’t necessary!”

“We’re going to save you, Jimmy!” HotGuy sang, oblivious to his distress, “Don’t worry a hair on your silly little head, with us you’ll be out of here in no time!” HotGuy winked and Jimmy didn’t get the chance to groan, far more preoccupied with Grian’s refusal to let go, and only having the mind to struggle out of his grip as the gate shuddered to a close.

“The game isn’t- guys-“ Jimmy stumbled back to the gate, but it would not be reopening any time soon. “The game isn’t meant to be played with three people! I don’t even have a compass! You need an artifact to get out!”

“Sounds to me like you only need one,” Grian said, perfectly unconcerned despite the new danger, not that he knew the ravagers were around, “I’m sure all three of us can scoot out at once if we’re quick, and if this ‘Tango’ tries to do anything about it, there’ll be two of us to keep you safe.” Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to respond to that before Grian clicked his tongue, “HotGuy, give me your compass.”

“Why? What if I want it?” HotGuy smirked and Grian scoffed, hopping forward to snatch it from him. HotGuy stepped out of the way and held it high out of Grian’s reach, causing the other to squawk and ultimately slip on the ice when he jumped to grab it. Jimmy found himself flinching when HotGuy laughed in Grian’s face, but the hero’s joy quickly turned to a shrill yelp as Grian leapt on him, clambering up his body with the compass in his sights. Unfortunately, the added weight unbalanced HotGuy on the ice and sent both of them tumbling to the ground. Certainly within Grian’s reach, the avian lunging for his prize and rolling out of range of a possible retaliation before getting to his feet.

“Right then.” Grian examined both compasses with great scrutiny, walking a little ways in different directions and nearing corners Jimmy just hoped had a ravager behind them. But Grian was never punished for his lack of attention, never straying too far. In fairness, HotGuy was doing very little to be careful himself, struggling to keep his footing without the talons Jimmy and Grian had; Jimmy would have given him grips for his shoes, but someone was in a hurry. For himself he would have grabbed the fluffy socks Tango had made to help keep his feet from getting too cold, so that was just another thing to resent Grian for. (Grian would not get socks. He did not deserve them.)

“HotGuy’s artifact is closest, so we’re going there.”

“How’d you puzzle that out? Actually, I don’t care.” HotGuy shuffled closer, poking his head over Grian’s shoulder. HotGuy caught Jimmy’s eye, throwing him a narrowed eye smirk before wiggling his fingers and jumping on Grian, wrestling the screeching avian until they both slipped, a crushed Grian losing his grip on the compass and unable to reclaim it before HotGuy scrambled over him (both parties kicking and screaming) until he slid across the compass, grabbing it with both hands.

“If it’s my compass, I get to hold it!” HotGuy got to his knees, arm shooting into the air to brandish his prize.

Grian let his head hit the ice. “We are never getting to our location.”

Jimmy crossed his arms. “Hey, HotGuy gets around the city fine. He could be a great maze navigator.”

“Thank you!” With some struggle, HotGuy got back to his feet, the momentum sliding him back into a forked path where he promptly fell back on his ass.

“We are never getting to our location.”

“You just wait CuteGuy, I’m gonna..” but HotGuy trailed off, eyes blinking wide as he stared at something down the tunnel. Jimmy’s feathers rose as he heard the grunt, but Grian didn’t seem to understand, looking between the two of them with a confused expression before the ravager bulldozed down the hall, HotGuy having no time to run before he was bowled down the hall, “THAT’S NOT A DOG!”

Jimmy spun on his heel, but the noticeable absence of Grian made him turn back around, having to lunge to grab him before the idiot tried to fight a ravager on HotGuy’s behalf.

“Other direction!”

“HotGuy’s-“

“He’ll be fine. We need to go.” Jimmy didn’t give Grian the time to argue, grabbing his wrist and overpowering him when it came to dexterity on the ice. Grian squawked, but luckily ravagers were not sensitive to sound, extra lucky when they turned a corner directly into the face of another and Grian shrieked, nearly falling on his ass before Jimmy pulled him up and back in the right direction.

“Get out of its line of sight!”

Grian only continued to shriek in response. Great. But after dragging Grian kicking and screaming around a couple corners, the ravager got off their tails, grunting as its heavy hooves lumbered down another icy tunnel. Grian let himself slide to a stop once Jimmy let go of his wrist, drifting to a wall and sliding against it to sit on the rocky ground and catch his breath. Jimmy hardly stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“They don’t have much object permanence,” he mumbled instead, “Poor hearing as well. Still, maybe try to stop screaming. There’s about five around on this floor, so at the very least we know where a few of them are. We should keep going.”

“There’s more than one floor?”

“Yes, but our artifacts are on Level 1. It’s not too bad. And if we’re quick, we might still be able to find HotGuy. The ravagers are trained to take someone out of the game once they’re sufficiently down for the count, which is usually about two hits. If HotGuy got away, his artifact is definitely easier, but Tango will take the compass if he’s down, so we have to find him quickly. I think I know where he’ll end up, but stay on your guard.

Grian was quiet for a moment, catching his breath, sure, but the silence seemed deeper than that. Grian was always an intense thinker, the kind of intensity that weighed the air.

“You’ve been in the dungeon before? Tango is putting civilians in here?” He sounded angry. Not surprising, really, but..

“Yeah,” Jimmy shrugged, struggling not to feel defensive, “Not that many though. One guy just won’t leave. It’s kind of a volunteer program.”

“You’re not a volunteer.”

Technically, this was true. Jimmy was being paid; to run the dungeon as well as lure superheroes into it, though he hadn’t run it since a ravager broke a rib on Level 2.

For a moment Jimmy thought about telling Grian the truth, ditching the ‘helplessly kidnapped’ act and putting everything out on the table so Grian would stop trying to rescue him and leave well enough alone. That way at the very least he could call for Tango who might let him leave through a maintenance tunnel and not have to continue with whatever the hell was happening here. Jimmy didn’t even get the chance to register a deck before they started! However, the thought was dismissed immediately, partially because they only had one compass. In the case that Tango decided to be petty, Jimmy was not about to throw himself into the tusks of a ravager, and he could fantasize all he wanted about throwing Grian to the wolves and stealing the compass for himself, but it just made more sense that they stuck together.

But there was the fear, too, far more persuasive than any sense, the kind of deep seeded instinct that would have Jimmy sprinting in the opposite direction rather than be alone with his college tormentor, look him in the eyes, and tell him he’d been deceived.

Grian always thought Jimmy was hiding something from him. There had been multiple instances of Grian rummaging through his things, not taking, just looking, but not quite putting things back where they had been before. It really messed with Jimmy’s head- what he was even looking for? Grian didn’t have money to spend, but even when Jimmy had left his valuables and cash unguarded, Grian never stole. Jimmy never knew Grian to want anything either; weed, alcohol, the like, but for the most part Jimmy didn’t keep any of that in the dorm, and Grian never expressed interest. Grian didn’t even borrow pens or notebook paper; Jimmy was pretty sure he’d rather die than ask for help in any form, but regardless, it drove Jimmy crazy just to have Grian rummaging through his shit and having no idea what he wanted.

“Hey, if you need anything man, you just let me know, alright? I’ve got extra school supplies if you need to borrow anything for exams,” Jimmy had said one night, testing the waters in the rare occurrence when Grian’s headphones were off.

Jimmy would never forget the look of distaste Grian threw him, head cocked and eyes dark and narrowed; Grian didn’t even have to say anything to hurt him most days. “No.”

And that was that.

He never dreamed of confronting Grian, no, Jimmy would never bare his hand to a cornered animal. But one thing was for certain, he kept his phone and laptop passwords close, changing them regularly. Anything remotely private he locked up in his closet while he was out, Grian’s eyes burning into his back, suspicious and untrusting. He always made Jimmy feel so afraid. He wasn’t hiding anything or whatever it was Grian had convinced himself Jimmy was doing, he just wanted to keep his privacy private. Jimmy still had a habit of hiding his things, squirreling them away in odd places even when he was living alone. He didn’t realize he was doing it most of the time, but at some point it was pointed out to him (“This is why you can never find anything Jimmy, who keeps their receipts under the blooming mattress!”), and Jimmy had no doubt where the habit came from.

Apparently Jimmy’s lack of answer to Grian’s question was enough of an answer to him. “I’m going to get you out of here.” Intense. Always so intense.

Jimmy had no desire to fight him. “Okay.”

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #cw: past abuse #tw: past abuse #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #grian #tangotek #decked out #decked out 2 #hotguy #cuteguy

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