#this scene was SO hard to color but. worth it she looks like an angel

[angelamcss]

Rhaenyra Targaryen | 1.08

[prince-liest]

Was asked a question about how I write Alastor's relationship with being mixed recently and figured it might be worth sharing my answer here:

(Obligatory disclaimer: I'm not a mixed Black person and I've never even been to the US South, so I'm never going to do a deep-dive on this and my efforts are largely in writing this character in a cohesive and respectful way that doesn't overstep the bounds of my experiences but also doesn't erase his background, either.)

Alastor strikes me as someone who is pretty dedicated to, to put it potentially uncomfortably, masking as white. He straightens his hair, puts on a transatlantic accent, and generally presents himself in a way that he feels is representative of a certain style of "class" back in his day, which was a very white-coded style of class. The fact that his actual body is now extremely unnaturally colored makes it easy for people to pick up the hints he's giving them about how he expects them to see him, unthinkingly.

There's this moment I wrote in 666: Live On Air!:

He lets his smile fade until it’s that old, soft thing on his face. “I think,” he says quietly, “that I look rather like my mother. If she had red hair and antlers, of course.” Angel hesitates. “That a good thing or a bad thing?” Alastor contemplates for a moment. “I think it just is,” he says finally. “For all I know, she does have antlers up there, wherever she ended up. It’s nice to see the echoes of her in my own face.”

And given the context of the scene, it's not wrong to interpret it as an exploration of being aroace, or having loose attachments to gender underneath the vagaries of presentation. I think all of these things can be connected and intertwined; identities and memories are so hard to separate and isolate in that way.

But intertwined along with all of that, I think it's worth noting that unlike Alastor, his mother would not have had the ability to pass as white. So seeing echoes of her in his own face... it's a whole mess of feelings about being true to himself and his mother vs being safe vs taking advantage of what he can in a bigoted society vs his mother loving him and wanting what is best for him vs not knowing anymore if that is safety or truth vs him loving his mother and wanting to honor her.

It's a lot! And given what kind of person Alastor is, it's no wonder he doesn't want to fucking talk about it.

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

♞: Caring for each other while ill and ♟: Patching up a wound for bitch bastard and her pirate

♞: Caring for each other while ill

“They just call it that, it doesn’t actually mean—“ the boat lurches, and so does Raini’s stomach. She reaches blindly for the recently emptied bucket beside her, retches, and promptly refills it. The room’s stale, acrid scent is suddenly much fresher, but while Ecstasy wrinkles her nose in disgust and steps back  Raini just closes her eyes, groans, and rests her forehead on the rim of the bucket. “…it doesn’t actually mean I’m sick,” she finishes, voice scratchy and tired.

Ecstasy, to her credit, is at least trying to act like she doesn’t think the scene in front of her is as funny as she does. She isn’t trying very hard, of course, but fortunately Raini is too preoccupied to notice. “That’s what I’m saying, Angel. I’m not so sure it is just seasickness. Seen a lot of sick sailors, and it usually doesn’t include… all of this.”

“We’re on a ship, it’s rocking, and I’m throwing up. What else would it be?” Raini retorts, but her words lack their usual heat. “Why are we sailing, anyway? Isn’t the whole point of you that your ship flies?

Ecstasy snorts. “You’re the one who asked for discretion. We can run friendly colors, your little disguise spell can help the crew pass at a glance, but people are gonna start asking questions if the ship’s out of the water.”

Raini turns her head to glare, but the effect is somewhat ruined by the way the rim of the bucket presses against her cheek. “…fine.” She deflates as she concedes the point, suddenly looking like the effort it would take to continue the argument just isn’t worth it to her anymore. She’s tired, she aches head to toe like she just got out of a fight where the people supposed to be taking the hits didn’t do a very good job drawing attention away from her, and the stupid, drafty ship is so cold that she’s shivering hard enough to make her teeth chatter. Stupid ocean. Stupid boat. Stupid pirate. 

It’s the refusal to bicker that actually gives Ecstasy pause, that makes her brush back her coat so she can squat down next to Raini and reach out to brush her knuckles across Raini’s forehead. She lets out a low whistle when she can feel the unnatural warmth even against her heat-resistant skin. “You’re not gonna like this,” she starts, bracing one hand on her knee to keep herself balanced while the other -the one that had briefly rested on Raini’s forehead- moves down to rest on the small of her back. She does Raini the dignity of not acknowledging the way the simple weight there smooths out some of the tension Ecstasy can see in her body, particularly between her shoulder blades, “but sea sickness usually doesn’t come with a fever. Which, unfortunately, makes one thing pretty clear.”

Raini doesn’t bother to open her eyes to respond. “...it’s something else.” she guesses dryly, groaning again when Ecstasy hums her assent. “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” Ecstasy agrees as she pulls her hand back and stands. It doesn’t take her very long to do what she stood up to do, to shed her coat and set it aside on top of a nearby crate of supplies, but when she looks back at Raini she’s watching Ecstasy through one, half-open eye. Ecstasy raises an eyebrow at her as she begins working to undo the leather straps of gun holsters resting on her hips.

“...you left.” The complaint is small, subdued in a way Raini usually isn’t, needy in a quiet way she would be beyond irritated by if she was any more herself. 

It makes Ecstasy smile. She doesn’t bother to hide it. “Just for a second.” To prove it, she sets her guns on top of her coat and moves to squat back down next to Raini. Her hand settles on Raini’s back again, this time using just a little more pressure and rubbing small circles against the aching muscles. “...let me take you up to my cabin, Raini. You’re not going to get any better hiding back here like a wounded animal, and my bed is a lot more comfortable than the floor. I’ll make sure no one bothers you up there, alright?” 

And god, after so long spent hunched over a bucket, muscles tense and aching, the gentle pressure of Ecstasy’s hand on her back feels wonderful. Raini lets the question hang for just a moment, enjoying the feeling, before finally, reluctantly, asking, “...will you keep doing this?” “If you want me to.”

“I’m going to make your room stink.”

A shrug. “It’ll air out.”

“...you’re sure?”

“Absolutely.” 

And, well. How is Raini supposed to refuse? “...you’re probably right,” she admits, as close to consent as Ecstasy is going to get. 

Seeming to understand this, Ecstasy shifts her weight so that she can gather Raini in her arms -bucket hooked around one wrist and as far from her own nose as possible- so that they can start making their way up onto the deck of the ship. She won’t, she doesn’t think, ever get used to the way Raini settles in when Ecstasy carries her. The weight of her, less than it should be for the space she takes up, the fine strands of her hair, the way they tickle Ecstasy’s chin when she pulls Raini momentarily closer to maneuver them safely through a doorway, the eventual soft thump of Raini giving in and resting her head against Ecstasy’s shoulder. 

Raini is quiet for most of the trip -out of the ordinary in and of itself- taking in the even rise and fall of Ecstasy’s chest, more deliberate now that she’s carrying Raini but certainly far from labored, her thumb brushing gently, absently, against Raini’s shoulder, the way she shifts subconscious to keep them steady as the boat rocks under her feet. She’s dozed off before the door to Ecstasy’s cabin closes behind them, and the shift from Ecstasy’s arms to her mattress isn’t enough incentive to rouse. The sound of hooves moving away across the wooden floor, however, is. “You said you would stay,” she says quietly. The sound of movement stops.

“...well,” Ecstasy starts, choosing her words carefully. Her voice is coming from too far away for Raini’s liking. “I wasn’t sure how close you wanted me.”

“You know where I want you,” comes the murmured response.

There’s a moment of silence, then the sound of footsteps yet again, and the bed dips beside Raini as a hand once again settles on her back. “I guess I do.” Ecstasy answers quietly. “Go on, get some rest. Otherwise, what was the point in dragging you up here? I’ll still be here when you wake up. I promise.”

And, for once, Raini does as she’s told.

♟: Patching up a wound

“You’re the worst.”

“Why, thank you.”

“You are the stupidest person I have the misfortune of knowing.”

“We both know that’s absolutely not true.”

“And more than that you are, apparently, a terrible pirate.”

“…well now Angel, that’s just mean.”

They’re sprawled out on one of the lower decks of the ship after having been swept away from the fighting above by Raini’s magic, Ecstasy looking a mess and grinning broadly despite the crossbow bolt buried in her gut, Raini in much better shape and scowling fiercely. “I am mean. And you are a fool,” she informs Ecstasy as she assesses her wound. “Did you not see the archer? They were feet from you. Maybe if you weren’t so preoccupied with whirling around, flashing that shotgun and making the tails of your coat spin out—“

Ecstasy laughs at that, then laughs harder at the way Raini looks up sharply to pin her with an indignant, exasperated glare. Her laughter quickly devolves into a pained groan, but the grin still tugging at the corner of her mouth betrays her untempered spirits. “Fucking— God, that hurt. You really can’t make me laugh right now. I was just trying to say: shit, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were fussing because you were worried about me.”

Raini’s scowl darkens, and she quickly returns her attention to the crossbow bolt. “It’s a good thing you know better, then.” She retorts as she reaches up to grip the shaft of the bolt as close to Ecstasy’s stomach as she can manage and brace her other hand close to the entry point.

Ecstasy tenses instinctively and reaches out to intercept Raini’s wrist, grin going wary. “Careful there, sweetheart,” she warns. “I get that you make it your business to try and keep from gettin’ shot, but I’ve got plenty of experience. And let me tell you: that thing’s keeping my blood in right now, and it’ll hurt like a bitch to take it out. As much as I appreciate you getting me out of the middle of things, why don’t we leave this part to somebody who knows how to patch me up afterward, hm?”

The look Ecstasy gets in response is withering and wholly unimpressed. “I know what I’m doing.” Raini twists her hand free of Ecstasy’s loose grip and reaches for the bolt again. “I’m pulling on three. One—“

“Come on, Raini. That's not funny,” Ecstasy objects again, now trying to push Raini off her lap.

Raini braces herself, her thighs squeezing tight against Ecstasy’s as she tries to ignore the protests. “Stop- Stop jostling me, you’re going to make it hurt more. Two—“

“Raini, I mean it! Knock it off!” Ecstasy snaps, an edge to her voice like she’s barking orders at her crew. 

Raini rolls her eyes, hard, but finally sits back. “You’re ridiculous,” she says. “I know what I’m doing. You’ve seen who I travel with, you know I’ve had practice.” 

Ecstasy sags back against the wall, visibly relieved that Raini let go and backed off. Raini has a nasty habit of being willful to the point of belligerence. Once she gets it into her head to do something, there’s hardly a force in the world that can talk her out of it. “Yeah, and I also know you’re a whole lot better at blowing people up than patching them up afterwards. If you’re that worried, go grab Lent. I trust her to put me back together.” 

“I’m sure you remember, but she’s a little busy at the moment.” As though to punctuate her words, directly above them: the sound of heavy footsteps, a shout, the flash of brilliant, blinding light bleeding through the gaps in the boards, the thud of a body hitting the deck. Raini raises her eyebrows as though to say ‘I told you so’ before continuing. “What would you have us do until she’s done? Do you plan to just sit here and bleed out?”

Ecstasy grins again, the expression slipping right back into place now that the danger has passed. “With you to keep me company? I’d die happy,” she teases, winking.

“…keep you company, hm?” There’s a brief pause before Raini is slipping back into Ecstasy’s lap, mindful of the crossbow bolt, her hands this time drifting along toward Ecstasy’s hips rather than toward her stomach. Maybe it should be suspicious that Raini so easily dropped the subject and let herself be led to something new, but in that moment Ecstasy is just glad that she did. And, quite frankly, she’s more than happy with this new development. “And what exactly would that look like? There’s… something pretty substantial in our way here.”

Ecstasy hums, reaching out with greedy hands to slip one hand up into Raini’s hair, the other along the smooth fabric of her robes. “Aren’t you always telling me how smart you are?” She teases, leaning in as though to steal a kiss, delighted when Raini lets her close instead of pulling away. “I’m sure you’ll figure something out for us…”

Raini’s answer is a noncommittal noise, and it’s almost enough to make Ecstasy pull back and ask her what she meant by it. But then their lips brush, and suddenly very little else matters. Their lips brush, and it’s distraction enough that the whispered, “...three,” slips by unnoticed until it’s too late. Raini grips the shaft of the bolt and pulls, and the way Ecstasy howls underneath her as it comes free— Well, it certainly doesn't rank among the most flattering noises she's made under Raini's hands. And then comes the blood, hot and slick and pouring out of her as freely as Ecstasy had known it would when she told Raini the first fucking time to leave well enough alone, and—

…and then a crackling, a pulse of energy that radiates out from a hand pressed against the hole in her gut. It thrums through her, and when it goes it takes the pain from the wound with it. Raini sits back on her heels looking incredibly self-satisfied, holding the bloody crossbow bolt in one hand while she wipes her forehead with the back of her other, careful to keep her bloodstained palm away from the wisps of her hair. “Oh, you really thought there was a kind of magic I couldn’t do? You thought I couldn't heal?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes and making no effort to suppress the look of smug satisfaction on her face. “You really should know better by now. Honestly. It’s insulting.” 

“...well, fuck me.” Ecstasy marvels as she takes stock of herself, reaching to prod at her stomach. Her shirt is still torn and bloody, but while her stomach is a little pink and a little sensitive, the skin is undeniably smooth and intact. She lets out a low whistle, cutting her eyes up to Raini in time to see her preen at the compliment. “A pretty neat trick, I’ll give you that. But, Angel?” 

“Mm?” Raini had already stood while Ecstasy was inspecting her handiwork and is in the middle of Prestidigitating her hands clean when Ecstasy leans up grip the near end of the shaft of the crossbow bolt and use it as leverage to jerk Raini back down so they're eye-to-eye.

Ecstasy’s other hand darts up to catch Raini’s wrist and keep her close, noses nearly touching. She’s not above admitting it: she enjoys the way it makes Raini’s eyes shoot wide for a moment, the way her breathing picks up from the simple act. “I’m used to having my orders followed on my ship.” She warns, pitching her voice low between them. “Even by wizards who think they’re the cleverest little things on board. Do you understand what that means?”

Raini’s eyes dart from Ecstasy’s face, briefly down to her mouth, over to the hand holding her wrist. She takes her time before answering, testing Ecstasy’s grip, measuring her words, but when she speaks she has the audacity to smile with a saccharine sweetness. “It means,” she says, despite her position looking no less pleased with herself than before, “that you have quite a bit to learn about dealing with me. Come back up and help finish the fight you started, won’t you?” And with a snap of her fingers Raini shimmers and disappears, presumably to rejoin the fight above, leaving the crossbow bolt to clatter to the ground beside Ecstasy as the only proof she had been there at all.

“Mo- ther- fucker” Ecstasy huffs out, exasperation clear in every syllable, half laughing to herself as she lets her head thump back against the wall. “Little spitfire. Don’t envy the son of a bitch that ends up with their hands full of her.” With a grunt, she pushes herself up, pausing long enough to scoop up the crossbow bolt before turning to make her way back up to the main deck as well, grinning in spite of herself and spinning the bolt absently between her fingers as she goes.

[aetheternity]

Sight, smell, touch, taste, sound and which one I believe would draw the Aot girls to you. Kinda Modern Au 🤷‍♀️ idk you be the judge.

(Pov: none of you asked for this but I got bored and decided to give it to you anyway.)

Mikasa

~Touch

The first time you touched her it was to pat her shoulder and tell her, "good luck" on a mission and she's been riding that high til the day she finally had you.

She was already so infatuated by you to the point that every bit of your touch became a daily necessity.

Locking you into her tight hugs late at night.

Pulling your lips back into hers whenever you try to escape.

She'll give you tiny kisses spread all over your face as soon as you wake up. And she's a huge fan of eskimo kisses. You might even trigger a little giggle from her when you initiate them.

She wants to rest her head on your chest and fall asleep to your heartbeat.

She's got your fingers perfectly knotted with hers in every situation.

Tangles your legs when the two of you are resting on the couch.

"I have to get up sometime Mikasa." Not today you don't.

Her favorite spot to scratch is your lower back. She softly circles her nails over that bit of skin after hiking your shirt up.

Please let her spend the day with you in her lap it's the perfect amount of intimate for her.

Annie

~Touch/Sound

One day you came to her with concern filling your eyes and hugged her even though you never had before. You simply told her, "I feel like something's wrong but I won't pry. Just know I'll be waiting for you to come back to me." So softly in her ear and despite her push back at first her feelings for you grew stronger everyday.

She grew to adore the smallest things about you.

The sounds of your low morning yawns before you kiss her face.

The warmth of your knee resting between her thighs

Loves when you whine her name. It sends heat flowing through her entire body. "What do you want?" (She'll pretend she hates it tho.)

Whenever you two are alone she has her head firmly placed on your chest, falling asleep to your heartbeat. Just like Mikasa (No you do not have to pee lay back down)

Loves when you card your fingers through her untied hair. (Sometimes you make her hum when you scratch the back of her head just right.)

She's gotta have your hands when you two are cuddling. Holding you like she's scared you're not really there.

Whisper in her ear and she just might shiver for you.

Laugh when she's sarcastic and watch the pretty pink color dust over her cheeks.

Tells you she loves you under her breath and melts when you say it back after kissing her cheek or neck.

Sasha

~(Sweet angel 🥺) Touch/taste

She held your hand like she'd always done with you and asked what you'd want your last meal in the world to be. Fucking around you said, "You." And the girl practically burst into flame. Meanwhile Connie at the opposite end of the table is mocking y'all talking about some, "Get a room already!" And then you did 😏

Oh, you just had some candy? She's biting your lips and sucking on your tongue.

Oh, your shampoo/body wash smells like banana, coconut, strawberries etc? She's got her face in your neck giving you little kisses. (Sometimes she'll give you a little kitten lick but it's fine cause you love it 😃).

She likes mutual feeding (ik that sounds weird idk how else to put it.) Like if you guys are eating popcorn together while watching a movie, she likes when you place the popcorn in her mouth and she does the same for you.

Licks the butter off your fingers when the popcorns gone.

When you stretch your arms next to her and then proceed to wrap them around her neck or waist she's in heaven.

Adores the feeling of your fingers splayed over her stomach right after she finished eating and the way you tease her by stroking her inner thigh.

Randomly jumps in the shower with you so that she can run her hands up and down every inch of your skin.

Sometimes she wakes you with a bunch of forehead kisses.

"Five more minutes please.." You beg

If you wake up before her though she'd love to be wrapped in your arms as she eats breakfast.

Hitch

~Sight (y'all already know my baby's a lil shallow)

It was like a movie scene. She saw you across the room during a small party for the anniversary of the military police first debut and she just had to have you. And bug you.. she stayed by your side as often as possible after that.

She'll laugh so that her compliments on your body sound less genuine but she means it every time.

And when you're not looking she's got her lip between her teeth, eyes working up and down your body.

"I wanna see you in this honestly." She'll say late at night handing you a picture and covering her face as you look at it.

"Reminds me of your pink dress?"

"Yeah! Yes.. that's the point we'll match."

Doesn't matter how long you've been dating. She'll always build a little tension before every kiss by looking directly at your lips then back into your eyes with a little smirk.

Whistles when you wear an outfit she recommended.

She never straight up says it but her favorite part of your body is the part you like the least.

Backwards ass compliments.

"You know orange isn't normally your color but today you made it work." And "You seem really confident despite wearing those pants."

Don't worry it's how she shows affection.

Makes you blush as often as possible because she just can't get enough of how gorgeous you are when you do.

Pieck

~Sight/taste

From the second she saw you she knew she had to get you out of your little bubble. You'd both done the warrior training as kids and you always kept to yourself. She thought a person like you looked like you had a lot of secrets. And she was gonna learn as many as possible. The older you guys got the more attractive you became to each other and you kinda fell back into the nervousness she thought she'd driven out of you. Eventually she got you to accidentally blurt a confession. Next thing you knew her tongue was pulling all conscious thought out of you.

Idk Pieck gives me the vibes that she'd always be looking for a way to stick her tongue down your throat?? (Just me?? Alright..)

She'll twirl you around with a hand around your waist. Unabashedly checking you out.

Loves long sweet kisses while she rests between your legs.

Will never stop smiling at you when you exit the shower in only a towel.

Brushes her lips over your stomach to wake you.

She's so enamored by the twinkle in your eye when you talk with the younger generation of warriors.

Playfully suggests you just walk around the house completely naked so she can really appreciate your body.

Her heart one hundred percent drops when she sees you sad for even a second.

Let her kiss you wherever she wants! It's a lot easier than arguing with her!

And she will try in some weird places. (She gives me body worshipper vibes.)

Yelena

~Sound

She heard about you due to rumors about your incredible fighting style. But what made her seek you out was the knowledge that you were next in line to become a titan shifter. It was hard to tell if her affection was due to interest in you as a person or your incredible fighting style but one day she asked you to live with her in the new world. Of course you said yes.

She loves the sound of you singing. (If you can sing) Sometimes she actively seeks you out and asks for you to sing to her.

Your war cries make her back arch (shh I didn't say that).

The second you guys started dating she developed a sixth sense of some sort where she just shows up if you're crying or if your day has been going terrible.

She just adores the sound of your voice and she can't get enough of it.

I could see her dragging you off some place where the two of you can just talk.

Within less than a week of dating you she's already got ways to get any noise she wants out of you.

Graze their neck with the tip of your nose for giggles and kiss the tips of their ears for I love you's.

That sort of thing.

Whenever you make a noise she hasn't heard before she's dying to force you to make it again.

Idk what it's called but I feel like Yelena has that thing where noises are attributed to colors in her brain. And at some point she explains all the colors she sees whenever you make certain noises.

Hange

~Sight/touch

Moblit had to take a.. short vacation after one of Hange's lab disasters nearly crippled him.. so Erwin had asked you to fill in and you said yes. It was only for a couple weeks and during that time Hange stuck to you like glue. Throwing an arm over your shoulder, stealing little glances and laughing loudly when you'd catch her. It felt like normal Hange stuff. But on the last night before Moblit's return, Hange was weirdly not.. Hange.. being quiet, filling in data and barely making eye contact. You asked if you'd done something wrong but Hange barely said anything back. Before you left she was nose deep in paperwork. You said your goodbyes and you were about to leave when Hange asked if you'd be willing to go on a date. When you looked back she hadn't even looked up but you smiled and nodded with a little yes and the rest was history.

It's a no brainer that you spent all your free time in Hange's lab to be Hange's other support system other than Moblit.

And when Moblit died, Hange's entire support system.

Her touch lingering on your lower back as you lean over to check her notes.

Completely enamored with the glint in your eye whenever the two of you come up with a sort of breakthrough.

Deadass pulls you into her lap at the most random times.

Oh hey the meeting finally finished? Yanks your frame right into her lap and laughs at the eye rolling of fellow colleagues.

Hange will say sorry but that blush on your face was so worth it and she's so glad she did it.

Rubs your back as you sleep on the work piled on your side of the desk.

Probably accidentally wakes you up a couple minutes after you fell asleep though.

Hange once sat you on her lap after a meeting right before Erwin tried to hand her some papers over the table. Without thinking she stood up to grab them and your face slammed into the table while her hips were pressed against your ass. Immediately getting everyone's attention. Safe to say you no longer sit next to Hange at meetings. (I had to add this even though it's a little off topic and random.)

Historia

~Smell (First one here.)

She had to share a room with you until she became queen. And almost every night she'd have some kind of nightmare about Ymir. You didn't mean to make a move but one night she crawled into your bed like she always had and you wrapped your arms around her shivering form like you always did. She had her nose trapped in your nape and you pressed a kiss to her forehead hoping it would stop her harsh breathing. And it did. She froze, the world froze, everything froze. You had leaned back to apologize for overstepping her boundaries and she kissed you back.

She'd gotten so comfortable with your scent that not only did it constantly lull her to sleep but always gave her a sense of security.

You're her security blanket. I don't make the rules.

Speaking of blankets. You gave her yours when she moved into the castle.

Whenever she gets even an hour alone she's trying to get you in the castle so she can sit in your lap and bury her nose in your nape like she always has.

She also steals your shirts and hoodies as often as possible until they smell like her then you have to take them back and cover them with your stink again.

Spending early mornings in the castle after washing your hair and her telling you over and over that she missed your smell.

It's legit like having a long distance relationship while being in the same place.

And she doesn't let you go until the last second before you both have to go back to work.

If you guys have time and you shop together she'll keep the candles that you believed smelled the best in her room.

All in all give Historia your shirts to wear cause she loves them/they look great on her.

Ymir

~Sight/touch

You're probably either super sweet like Krista or really sarcastic like her and that's what draws her to look more in depth into you. When she finally gets a chance to actually look at you fully without the odm gear she finds herself fixated, tracing your figure with her eyes. You guys finally become friends, who mutually enjoy bullying Reiner. But she finds that she hates it. Thinks you're teasing her every time you brush her fingertips without actually holding her dammed hand. One day she just reaches out and grabs you properly and doesn't let go. Yeah, you're dating now.

What can I say except, she likes running a finger over the lines on your palm.

She's always grabbing you out of nowhere but you don't mind. You just let her hold you.

"You look extra beautiful today, bet you'll look even better when I put a ring on your finger."

Puts her hands under your shirt with no fucking shame.

Stares at you and yells at the first person that mocks her. Reiner/Connie

Can and will find a way to smack your ass the second she gets you alone.

Trails little butterfly kisses over your shoulders when you're trying to get dressed in the morning.

Literally everything you do is weirdly skillful to her.

Like you're peeling a potato and she's like, "You're so amazing at that.."

Let her lean on you for absolutely no reason she loves it. 🤷‍♀️

(I realized after writing this that Annie and Armin have the same one even tho I don't ship them at all 😕)

[drabbles-mc]

Language

Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas x F!Reader

@redpoodlern requested more Dad!Creeper and honestly I was more than happy to deliver on that haha. And thank you to @garbinge for always helping me pull together all of my ideas!

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Creeper being a big ol’ softie with his kiddos

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This definitely takes place in the same universe as Like Father, Like Son because I’m a big fan of the family dynamic that I was sort of starting to build there. If no one has any objections that’s probably going to be my default HC for my future Dad!Creeper fics unless stated otherwise haha. I just love the idea of him with a pack of kids.

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

Mayans Taglist: @mayans-sauce @thesandbeneathmytoes @paintballkid711 @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @queenbeered @sillygoose6969 @sesamepancakes @yourwonkywriter @chibsytelford @gemini0410 @multiyfandomgirl40 @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @plentyoffandoms @georgiaaintnopeach @twistnet @themoonandthewicked @bucky-iss-bae @encounterthepast @everyhowlmarksthedead @rosieposie0624 @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @blessedboo​ @holl2712​ @lakamaa12​ @masterlistforimagines​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @petlaufeyson​ @crowfootwrites​ @punkgoddess-98​ (If you want to be added to my taglist, just let me know!)

The kids had one week off from school. One week. Seven days. Technically only five if you weren’t counting the weekend. You didn’t want to take the entire week off of work when you would be out on maternity leave in a couple more months, and as much as Creeper wanted you to be taking it easy, he said that if you really wanted save your time off for your leave, he would gladly keep the kids with him for the week.

“You and the guys can’t be doing,” you glanced around to make sure the kids weren’t in the room, “You and the guys can’t be doing serious club shit while they’re there, okay?” you knew that Creeper was always careful, but you also knew that some of the other men in the MC with him weren’t quite as cautious.

“Never, mama,” he leaned in and kissed your cheek, “Don’t worry. We’ll hold it down. It’s been a while since they got some time with their uncles, anyway.”

“Alright,” you nodded, taking a deep breath, “Go round up the gremlins, then,” you laughed, “They should each have their backpack with stuff in it.”

“Givin’ ‘em homework on their week off?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “No, no. Just stuff to do if they get bored at the clubhouse. Coloring books, matchbox cars, whatever else they can fit in there.”

“Pfft,” he shook his head, “like we’ll ever let them get bored,” he let out a whistle, “Let’s go, homies! Time to roll out.”

Their footsteps thundered through the house as all three if them came booking it down the hall, each with their backpacks either on their shoulders or dangling from their hands. Both you and Creeper laughed at how excited they were to spend some time with their dad and their entire squad of uncles at the clubhouse.

“Which car you taking, baby?” you asked him.

“Just figured I’d take the van. It’s got all their stuff in it already.”

You smiled, nodding as you grabbed the keys off the counter and tossed them to him, “Alright, no doing donuts with it.”

He chuckled, “If they ask I won’t be able to tell them no,” he was about to say something else when his phone started going off in the pocket of his kutte. He reached and took it out, brows furrowing slightly as he answered, “Yea? Yea I’m about to head out. We’ll talk about it when I get there,” he shook his head slightly, “Alright yea,” with a huff he hung up the phone.

“All good?” you arched one eyebrow.

He nodded, “Yea. They act like I’m not gonna see them in twenty minutes. What the fuck is that important that it can’t wait?”

You shot him a glare, “Neron! Language, please.”

“Shit, sorry.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He smiled sheepishly, stepping in close to give you a kiss, “I’m sorry, I love you, and I’ll call you later, mama.”

“Mhm,” you laughed as you playfully shoved him towards the door, “Tell the kids they gotta keep your boys in line.”

“They don’t even need me to tell ‘em.”

Very few things rivaled the excitement that the guys felt when they saw the minivan rolling into the scrapyard. Seconds after Creeper threw the van in park, all of the kids came sprinting out. His son leapt out of the passenger seat as his little sisters came tumbling out the back. It was quite the scene watching them walk up with their father, looking like quite the entourage all together.

“Wifey let you take the real whip today, huh?” Angel said with a laugh as he pulled Creeper into a hug.

He chuckled, “Anything for the wolfpack,” Creeper watched as his kids made their rounds to say hi and hug each of the men that were outside the clubhouse waiting for them to arrive.

Angel looked over at the minivan, “Still can’t believe she let you put those fuckin’ stickers on there, bro,” he laughed.

“Yo,” he smacked Angel in the chest, “No swearin’ in front of the kids,” he paused, “What do you got against the stickers? I think they’re cool.”

“Guess I just never thought that your soccer mom van needed fake bullet holes.”

“That’s what keeps it from being a soccer mom van,” he tapped the side of his head with a knowing look, like he had cracked some sort of code.

“Right,” Angel laughed and shook his head before turning his attention to the kids, “Brandon! Get over here! Let’s see if you’re taller than me yet, dude.”

Creeper turned and saw that the twins were already trying to take Hank down to the ground—a goal that they’d had ever since they were little toddlers. Every time they saw him, they got closer and closer to being successful but they weren’t quite there yet. He had one hanging off of each arm as he tried to walk across the yard without falling over onto them. Creeper laughed as he watched the shenanigans unfold, and they’d only been there for about two minutes.

“Alex! Ava!” he shook his head slightly with a smile, “Give Uncle Hank a break, alright? The man has work to do.”

“They’ll be taking him to the ground soon enough, man,” EZ laughed as he let Hank struggle with the two little girls.

“Make sure you’re filming it,” Creeper responded with a laugh as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“How’s Y/N?” EZ asked.

“Pregnant,” he looked over at EZ and laughed, “Nah she’s good. Working this week, so we got some extra help around here.”

“She’s still working?”

He nodded, “Oh yea. She’ll work till the baby pops outta her,” he shook his head, “I don’t know how she fu—” he caught himself, “I got no clue how she does it, man.”

“Pregnancy one of those things you get better at the more you do it?”

He laughed, “Why don’t you ask her next time you see her?”

“Hard pass,” he shook his head, laughing.

Creeper was glad that he had an entire team of guys to help him try to tire them all out, because it wasn’t an easy task in the slightest. At one point he was fairly certain that he lost them in the depths of the scrapyard and when he did finally find them, they were running around and playing hide and seek where all the scrapped cars were kept. The only thing that kept him from having a heart attack at the sight of it was knowing that none of the cars had any glass left in them that the kids could cut themselves on. But the three of them had easily turned the scrapyard into their kingdom.

“C’mon, lunch time,” he called out to them and they all hesitated, not quite ready to give up the game. Creeper sighed, “Chucky made lunch for you guys.”

That was all it took. Their eyes lit up and the girls almost pushed their brother to the ground in an attempt to beat him back to the clubhouse. Creeper shook his head as he followed them, egging them all on.

“C’mon, B-Dawg, use those legs!” he called after his son with a laugh.

“Knees to chest, Brandon!” Angel joined in as he watched the three of them race up the steps of the clubhouse.

Soon enough, the three of them were all sat at one of the tables inside the clubhouse. Chucky beamed at them, “The Vargas Trio,” he brought their plates over, “I hear you’re keeping us company for the week.”

“Dad said we get to come every day,” Ava said as she shoveled a spoonful of food into her mouth.

“Eat first, then talk, lil mama,” Creeper chastised her with a small smile as he shook his head.

Creeper sat at the table with them, casually drinking his beer as he watched the three of them tuck into the lunch that Chucky had made for them. He knew that Chucky loved when the kids were around—he became the ultimate chef and babysitter once those kids set foot on the property. There wasn’t a single thing that he wouldn’t do for those kids and Creeper could tell just by the way that Chucky seemed so at peace as he watched them sitting around the table together.

“What d’you guys say?” he asked them as he nodded towards Chucky.

“Thank you, Uncle Chucky,” they all said in unison.

The warmest of smiles spread across Chucky’s face as he nodded, “The pleasure is all mine.”

By late in the afternoon, the kids were finally starting to run out of steam. The girls were sprawled out on the floor of the clubhouse, art supplies strewn everywhere as they worked through entire sketchbooks’ worth of paper with Chucky. Brandon had been lurking at a safe distance as he watched some of the guys work in the scrapyard. The idea of breaking things apart was intriguing for many reasons to an eight-year-old boy, but he always listened if one of the men said to back up or not touch something. Every now and then, though, Creeper would let him take a crack at something with the hammer and the excitement on his son’s face was contagious.

The two of them walked back into the clubhouse to get a couple water bottles for themselves and the rest of the guys outside. Creeper was behind the bar, handing them over to his son while also trying to get a good look at what Alex and Ava were up to with Chucky. He smiled at the way the three of them seemed to exist so peacefully together. He hoped that the twins would always get along as well as they seemed to so far.

There was the quiet snapping sound of a pencil point breaking, followed by Alex tossing it to the side and huffing, “Fuck that.”

The entire clubhouse fell silent. Creeper’s eyes went wide as his jaw dropped slightly and Chucky looked over to him, trying to figure out what he was supposed to say or do. Creeper set one last water bottle down on the surface of the bar before addressing the issue.

“Alex? You good, babygirl?”

“It’s like the bazillionth time my pencil has broken.”

He wanted to be amused but he knew that you’d kill him for not talking about the whole language issue, “Alright. I hear you. But…but you can’t be talkin’ like that. Where’d you even hear that, anyway?”

“You,” all three of his kids replied in unison.

He exhaled sharply through his nose as he pressed his lips together into a thin line, trying to figure out what the right way to go about this was, “Look,” he waved for his son to follow him as he walked over to his daughters, “You can’t be talkin’ like that, okay? Those are grownup words. Whatever you do,” he rested his hand on her shoulder gently, “Don’t say that in front of Mommy,” he looked amongst the three of them, “And if it slips, you tell her that Uncle Angel taught you that, alright?” they all nodded and he let out a tiny sigh of relief, “Good. Okay.”

That was the last thing he said about it as he nudged Brandon’s shoulder and they went back to collect up the water bottles and bring them outside. The girls went back to their drawings and Chucky decided that there was nothing left to do but follow suit.

“Uncle Chucky?” Alex asked without looking up from her paper.

“Yes, my dear?”

“Why don’t you talk like they do?” she continued to fill in the cartoon coloring page, “Daddy says they’re grownup words but I never hear you saying them.”

“Speaking like a grownup doesn’t interest me in the slightest,” he smiled at her before returning to his own paper.

It was a week filled with antics. The clubhouse was covered in coloring pages of every cartoon and Disney character you could possibly think of. All of the guys had gotten their nails painted by the twins at least once. Brandon got his own Romero Brothers work-shirt and now he never wanted to take it off. Every single member of the MC was tired in a way they never remembered being tired before. Nap time was something that everyone partook in, even the adults, because they all needed the rest.

You took a half day on Friday so you could spend some time with all of them at the clubhouse. You liked seeing the kids running around having a good time with the guys, and truthfully you missed the nights you’d stay late with Creeper there. Late-night partying hadn’t been something the two of you had done in a long time, but none of that compared to the sense of joy you felt as you heard your daughters very intensely explaining the entire plot of both Frozen movies to EZ, who sat and nodded along, a very serious look on his face.

You smiled, making your rounds to say hello to the guys before you made your way over to Creeper who was sitting at the bar. He smiled, standing up to place a kiss to your lips and then to your belly before offering you his seat. You took it without hesitation, always happy to be off your feet for a few minutes.

“How’s the week been?” you asked as you glanced around the clubhouse.

He nodded, “Good. The guys will be sleeping for a week straight once the kids go back to school,” he laughed.

You smiled, nodding, “I bet.”

“It’s been nice having them here. Keeps things from getting to serious.”

“Yea,” you chuckled, “I’d imagine that it’s a bit harder to have a serious argument when all of your tables are covered in drawings of Olaf and Moana, and everyone’s nails are painted hot pink.”

“I kinda like it,” he held his hand out for you to inspect, “But I think purple is more my color.”

You laugh, nodding, “Oh, for sure, baby.”

The two of you were chatting when all of a sudden you heard a series of thuds, followed by Ava softly, but very clearly, saying, “Fuck,” as she rubbed her skinned knee.

You looked over at your husband, staring daggers, “Neron, I swear to god if—”

“It wasn’t me, mama, I swear,” he held his hands up in surrender.

With a sigh you rose up from the stool and made your way over to your daughter. You looked at her knee—it was scraped but it wasn’t bleeding. She also wasn’t crying which was a good sign. You asked if she was alright and when she said yes, you asked your follow-up question, “Where’d you hear that word, sweetie? Because those aren’t words that you should be using.”

Creeper held his breath as he waited for her to respond. Ava looked at you, and with no hesitation she responded, “Uncle Angel.”

You whipped your head to look at the biker in question. His eyes were as wide as you’d ever seen them. He tried to sputter out a denial, some kind of defense, but he couldn’t string the words together. He couldn’t believe that he’d just been thrown under the bus like that, especially by the girl who not even an hour beforehand said that he was her favorite uncle.

Calmly, you rose to your feet and smoothed out your dress. Creeper recognized the look in your eye and he knew that Angel was in for it. He felt bad, but not bad enough to step in and tell you the truth of the matter. It was a little deal in the grand scheme of things, really.

“Baby,” Creeper called after you, “Baby I can handle—”

“It’s fine, Neron,” your tone was dangerously even, “I just wanna talk to Uncle Angel for a minute.”

He knew that that meant you did not want to talk, “Mama, really—”

“Bring the kids outside, please. We gotta start heading home anyway.”

At that point he knew that he wasn’t going to convince you. He scooped Alex in one arm and Ava in the other, “Alright, let’s go, babygirls,” he nudged Brandon gently towards the door, “C’mon, lil homie, let’s pack the car up.”

Once the clubhouse door shut behind them, you turned your full attention to Angel. You picked up a stray coloring book and rolled it the same way you would a newspaper, and smacked him with it, “Angel Reyes!”

“Ah,” he held his arms to block your swings, “Y/N, hear me out!”

“You will not,” you smacked him again, “be teaching my six-year-olds how to cuss,” you hit him with the book once more for good measure, “Got it? Pregnant or not I will beat your ass.”

He held his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. Sorry, querida. Didn’t realize that they picked things up so quick.”

You pointed the rolled up coloring book at him accusingly, “Better start realizing it.”

“Yes ma’am,” he nodded.

You looked at him for a few seconds before giving a nod of approval and dropping the book back onto the table, “Good. Alright then,” you stood on your tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek, “Glad we’re on the same page. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he shook his head slightly as he followed you out of the clubhouse.

He said goodbye to the three kids as they piled into the minivan before pulling Creeper to the side, “Why’d Ava snitch on me like that, bro?”

Creeper chuckled nervously, running his hand over his head, “About that. I…I might’ve told them to blame you if they slipped up in front of their mom.”

“What the fuck, Creep?”

“What? You tellin’ me you wouldn’t do the same shit?”

He paused for a moment before laughing, “Yea, probably. But still,” he gave him a light shove, “Messed up turning my own nieces and nephew against me like that.”

“Technically just turning their mom against you a little bit,” he chuckled.

“I feel like that’s worse.”

“It’s definitely worse,” Creeper clapped him on the shoulder, “Well. Better get ready. Next vacation is gonna be for the whole summer.”

Angel laughed as he hugged Creeper, “Can’t wait.”

[mariesdameron]

Sophie & Sackler Chapter Nine: I won't give up on you.

CW: Mental Health (Anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self negative talk) Morning Sickness associated with pregnancy, pregnancy, infertility issues, doctor's office, blood, wound, stitches, prescription medication, mention of potential miscarriage, medical termination, arguing. (It's worth the read, I promise)

WC: 4 674

AN: It was so refreshing to visit these two again. I am sorry for anyone following the series for the very long delay in Chapter Nine. I appreciate your continued love and support for me and Sophie and Sackler.

Read on Ao3

Sophie & Sackler Masterlist

Two pink lines are all it takes to change your entire life--two pink lines. Sophie stared at the three discarded pregnancy tests still peeking out from the trash can. After the first one, she knew that she was pregnant, but anxiety spurred her to take two more.

She had been puking for the last week. Soul-sucking exhaustion had plagued her, and when her period didn't show, it was settled. Sophie curled herself into a ball. Getting pregnant was not something that could happen for her, or so the doctors had informed her for the last fifteen years of her life. It was destined to fail. It wasn't worth speaking about.

Sophie argued with herself, gazing at the bathroom tiles. She wouldn't need to do anything about it. She could go to the clinic herself instead of waiting around for the inevitable. Adam did not have to know. Teardrops spilled off her chin. They had spoken about it once, only once.

Sophie remembered when she dumped the bomb on Adam pretty early in the relationship. She tore it off like a band-aid. She couldn't have children. He needed to know; she couldn't have him imagining an impossible future together. Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Adam marched to her, dropped to his knees, and professed how much he loved her before crushing her to him.

Sophie clambered around the floor, looking for her cellphone. Dialing Sam’s phone number. The voicemail picked up, provoking a guttural scream from Sophie's breast. She needed Adam. Adam would tell her it was okay that they would deal with it together. Sophie gazed down at her cell lock screen. Adam's toothy grin begged her to call.

Sophie closed her eyes; her thoughts jumbled. She envisioned the expression on his face when he eventually learned the news. Joy would radiate over him before Sophie would grind him up with the reality of it all. She would miscarry. Sophie abandoned her phone on the floor before turning to vomit.

- - - - - -

Sophie had tried to tell Adam since she discovered the news. She had dialed his cellphone at least a hundred times and hung up before it rang. She resolved to wait. Wait until he came home, and she could sit down and do it face to face. He merited to have the discussion in person.

Sophie picked at her Blueberry Muffin as Sam sat across from her, sipping her coffee. Sam had been spending an extra amount of time with her over the last couple of weeks, thankfully.

"Do you want to go over the plan again?" Sam questioned, biting down on her lip as she studied Sophie's face. Sophie shook her head, tasting the Blueberries starting to come back up her throat.

"No. It's fine. I got it." Sophie pushed away the muffin. Sam looked doubtful.

"Well, I think it's best to just do it like we planned. Like we talked about. It's best to just put it out there right away. Don't let it fester. I mean, I get why you wanted to wait until he got home but remember he may be pissed that you waited three weeks after the fact to say anything." Sophie bit her lip. She didn't need to rehash this again. She had already decided that she would tell him his first night home. No, turning back now.

"Look, I got it. I will let him unpack. I ordered our favorite Chinese take out and once he's done with his spring roll. I will tell him." Sam rolled her eyes.

"Well, at least you still are maintaining your sarcasm." Sam peered down at her cellphone and groaned. "Alright, well, I need to get going. I really hate that I am leaving this weekend. Couldn't he have come home last weekend? For fuck's sake." Sam was in her cousin's wedding and committed to going away for the weekend. It just so happened to perfectly align with Adam's return from Los Angeles. Sam stood, grabbing Sophie by the shoulders. She squeezed Sophie to her chest. "You are going to be okay. Adam loves you. He will understand." Sophie nodded, wetting Sam's blouse.

"I know. I know." Sophie cleared her throat as Sam kissed her forehead.

"Call, text, whatever. And worst-case scenario, I can jet back right after the ceremony. But it will be fine." Sam smoothed Sophie's hair back from her face. "I promise." Sophie smiled weakly at her friend.

"Everything is going to be fine."

- - - - - -

The Chinese food was splayed out over the coffee table. Sophie had ordered all of Adam's favorites. Pacing in front of the couch, she ran her hands down her sides. She should be happy. Adam had been away for a while, deterred to Los Angeles after his big Sundance premiere.

She depressingly had kept the conversations brief. She knew that if there were longer, he would know something was up. But, instead, Adam was nothing but attentive and attuned to her and her moods. She missed him horribly. Holding onto this news broke her; she tried to address things with her therapist but canceled at the last minute. Acknowledging the truth was too hard. The only person who knew was Sam, and it was out of pure necessity.

Sophie looked at her cellphone. He was already in the city and would be arriving at any minute. She had to get it together. She couldn't meltdown as soon as he walked through the door. Adam didn't deserve this, he didn't. He didn't need the extra stress, his entire life was changing and for the greater. Sophie was only going to be the anchor that held him back.

Shaking her head at her thoughts, she stared at the picture frame on the bookshelf. It was her favorite picture of them. Sophie had tried to get both of their faces in camera view while Adam licked her face like the puppy he was. Then, like magic, she detected him at the door. On command, she was emotional as Adam entered. His bag in hand, luggage hauling behind him, and a bouquet of wildflowers balancing under his chin.

"Kid!" He shouted and dumped everything to the floor, moving to her in giant strides. Adam scooped Sophie into a firm embrace. "I fucking missed you so much." Adam murmured into Sophie's hair. "I felt like a little kid on the way here. Like it was fucking Christmas morning or something." Adam let go of her long enough to caress her face before drawing her back into a kiss.

Everything dissolved--only Adam existed. They broke from their embrace, gasping. Adam's eyes dilated, cheeks crimsoned. "I am never leaving the apartment again." He said breathlessly with a smirk that pierced Sophie's heart. Sophie ran her hands through his black mane.

"You cut your hair?" She said, hushed, allowing the silky strands to slip effortlessly through her fingers. Adam beamed, grazing kisses on her temples and cheeks.

"Yeah, my agent thought it was time to change up my look for some upcoming potential projects." He touched his lips back to hers before pretending to sulk. "Do you not like it?" Sophie shook her head.

"I love it." She purred as she sank her face into his chest, breathing him in. She nearly could let go of the panic that was building inside of her. Finding comfort in her safe harbor. Adam caged Sophie to his breast, touching his lips to her brow.

"Fuck, I really really missed you. I feel like we've hardly spoken." Adam wandered over to the living room set up. Grinning, he let go of Sophie. "I see you have laid out a mighty banquet for my return. I couldn't have planned anything more satisfying than this." Putting up his hands, he dashed to the door, plucking up the flowers he had abandoned. "For you, my lady." He bowed slightly before presenting the colorful array of perennials. Sophie swallowed down the guilt welling in her throat. He was perfect. Honestly, he was. Sophie fixed a smile and shuffled to the kitchen to find a vase. Adam thrust off his shoes and plopped down onto the couch.

"Man, I've been craving --- Lo Mein. Los Angeles is nothing compared to New York." Shoving a crab Rangoon in his mouth, he fiddled with the containers. Sophie stood in front of the sink, watching the water run. Did she have to tell him tonight? She could wait. A few days would not make a difference, not in terms of biology anyways. Instinctively her hand went to her stomach, and she sensed the urgency to be sick. How was she going to explain the constant puking? Before she grasped what was transpiring, her blood was dripping onto the stainless steel. Gazing down at the glass pieces from the vase, she distinguished Adam's muted voice next to her before her senses returned.

"Kid! Kid! What did you do?" Adam cautiously drew her hands back, examining the deep gash on her hand. " That's gonna need stitches, baby." Then, clutching the roll of paper towels, Adam wrapped up her wound. Sophie stood confused at her own carelessness.

It would have been entertaining to watch Adam work a smartphone app, however, Sophie's mind remained unable to manifest words. Her mental dissociation was in full swing, the weight of her mind dragging her through mechanical motions. Attempting to make sense of the scene, Adam led her to the door as he typed into his phone.

- - - -

Sophie sat on the end of the hospital bed. The white starkness of the room was effectively raising Sophie's anxiety, along with following her boyfriend's pacing in front of her.

"Adam, please just sit down... PLEASE." Sophie sounded slightly more forceful than intended. Adam froze and stared at her, face drained of blood. Sophie recognized that he was panicked. This was definitely not the way she desired to spend his first night home. Before Adam could speak, the Doctor strolled into the examination room. “Sophie, I am Dr. Davis.” He observed Adam, who stood fidgeting in the corner. Finally, Adam cleared his throat and stepped forward, taking the Doctor's hand.

"Adam, Sackler. Boyfriend." Dr. Davis nodded in understanding as he lifted Sophie's bandaged hand.

"Well, it was a sizeable gash, and you will need stitches, which we will be applying soon.” Dr. Davis flipped through her chart. "Is there anything else we should know about before I get started on your stitches? For example, are you allergic to anything that may not be noted on your chart?"

Sophie shook her head no, glimpsing over at Adam, who remained in the corner. His face troubled as he regarded the Doctor removing the bandaging. Sophie's mind raced. Was pregnancy something she had to tell the Doctor? This is not the fucking way Adam needed to find out that she was pregnant. Sophie's heart began racing, and the Doctor certainly took notice.

"It's alright; it will be over sooner than you think." He said, patting Sophie gently. Adam exhaled before scooting closer to them.

"I am right here, kid." His voice shaky, but his jaw locked tightly. Her chest throbbed. He didn't justify this bullshit. How could she be so stupid? How could she be so careless? Ruining his first night, becoming pregnant. She had always been so careful. She was on birth control. They didn't always use a condom, but the frequency was low. Doctor Davis stood interrupting Sophie's thoughts. He was finished. He analyzed her face before speaking.

"How are you feeling, Sophie? I saw in your chart that you were on a couple of psychiatric medications. I can bring in the nurse for something to ease the panic?" Sophie's eyes flew to Adam.

She avoided talking about her mental illness around him. She knew he didn't judge her or care, but she wanted desperately to keep it away from him. Sophie shrugged her shoulders. Doctor Davis acknowledged. "I am going to send her in with something. Xanax, I saw marked for emergency usage. I will send her in with a low dose. Just to help take the edge off.” Sophie bit her lip and accepted.

Adam slid next to her, immediately rubbing her back in comfort when they were alone. Sophie closed her eyes. She had to tell him. Adam tugged her tight to him.

"Kid, it's okay. You are all sewed up. No big deal. We will be back to the apartment, devouring our spring rolls soon." Turning, she studied his sweet freckled face that never ceased to make her heart ache.

"Adam...I have to tell you something." Sophie stuttered, the keen stabbing dread seizing her chest. Adam sympathetically leaned in and swept a kiss to her face.

"Kid, you didn't ruin my night. I know you are worried about it. I promise all I wanted is to see you." He reflected. "I mean, I didn't want to watch you gash your fucking hand open, but it's fine." He relaxed his head on Sophie's shoulder. The nurse cleared her throat as she entered. Sophie's nails burrowed into her palms as she observed the nurse move around her supplies.

"I am Minda; the Doctor thinks a small dose of Xanax would be helpful after looking over your medical history. Don't worry." The oxygen seeped from the room. Sophie couldn't breathe. "Xanax is deemed safe throughout pregnancy."

Inhaling faster, the nurse interrupted what she was doing and examined Sophie. "Deep breaths. The Doctor also wanted me to ask if you were interested in an iron infusion. We can schedule one for you to come back. Being that you are anemic, it's a good idea with you being pregnant." Sophie refused to look at Adam. She couldn't. Her eyes begged the nurse.

"Could you maybe come back in a few minutes?" Sophie mumbled amidst small gasps. The nurse's eyes widened, discerning the situation. Pursing her lips, she handed the paper cup of Xanax to Sophie.

"I'll be back in ten minutes for your discharge paperwork." Sophie kept her eyes to the floor, listening for the door to close. She waited. She waited for him to speak, but the room remained silent despite the beeps and hums from nearby equipment.

Lifting her eyes, she wasn't sure what to think. Adam sat, his arms criss crossed over his chest. His frame was trembling, his nostrils flared. He was watching Sophie. Her sight clouded, and her throat constricted as Adam stood, his hands twitching at his side.

"How long?" He stammered, rubbing his hands over his face. "How long have you known? And why didn't you tell me?" His face, drawn with agitation. Sophie shook her head, swallowing down sobs.

"I didn't know how to tell you." She faltered. Adam began pacing back and forth.

"I don't know... something like, Adam, I am pregnant would have worked okay." Sophie looked at the pills on the side table. She could take them. It would make this easier. It would prevent the impending panic attack that was threatening with every word exchanged.

Adam followed Sophie's gaze and stepped towards her, taking the cup and forcing it in her free hand. "Take them; you don't need an attack right now." His tone softened as he spoke. Sophie gulped the pills down as Adam renewed pacing. "Please say something." Finally, he stopped, misty-eyed as he pleaded. Sophie wrung her hands.

"I've known since I got back from 'Sundance.'” She whispered, seeing his face sink further. "I wanted to tell you, but I knew how much it would hurt you." Her tears leaked from her nose.

"Why? Would it hurt me, Sophie?" Adam strode to her, gripping her face in his hands. "I fucking love you. Why would I ever be upset about this? Unless..." Back hutching forward, his eyes snapped shut. Gradually, he retreated. "Did you do it? Did you 'take care’ of it? " He challenged, his voice vibrating. Sophie furiously shook her head.

"No, no." Her heart pulsated in the vice grip constricting it. She knew the memories that were inundating his brain. Raising his head, shades of crimson grew up his neck. Adam wiped his reddening eyes and smoothed back his hair.

"We can talk about this more at home. But I don't want to do this here. I'm beat from the flight, and this isn't good for you." Adam tapped his forehead. "I am going to take a walk around the floor, and then hopefully, when I get back, we can go." Sophie sucked on her lower lip, agreeing.

Sophie sank her head in her hands as Adam disappeared. She hadn't 'taken care’ of it yet, but that was up next for discussion. She had explained that the Doctors had told her she cannot carry a baby to full term. He had said he understood and loved her nevertheless.

Was he about to go against his words? This was everything Sophie wanted to avoid. She told him she couldn't have kids. Just because this accidental pregnancy happened, it doesn't equal a child. It involves a miscarriage. Despite the nauseating pains in her stomach, the impulse to scream simmered. The nurse knocked before entering, clipboard in hand.

"Just a few signatures and you are good to go." Sophie gripped the pen, knowing full well the night was not close to being over.

- - - -

The ride back to the apartment was quiet. Sackler walked straight to the bathroom and closed the door. She heard the water running. She knew he was attempting to calm down. Unfortunately, there would be no deescalating at this moment. He would need to listen to her and understand what was necessary.

Seating herself on the edge of the couch, she waited until she heard the bathroom door open. Adam leaned against the wall, facing Sophie. Sliding his restless hands into his pockets, his face distorted with emotion. Sophie licked her dry lips. Then, steadying herself against the cushions, she let it all pour out.

"I am so sorry, Adam. I know I should have told you sooner. I just thought you deserved better to hear it all in person. I didn't want it to be like this. I definitely didn't expect your first night home to go this way. I wanted us to have a few happy moments together before I dropped the news. I just knew how much it was going to hurt you. Knowing that it would result in nothing." Adam abruptly held up his hands, muttering for her to stop.

"What are you saying to me, Sophie? Have you already decided then? To just go ahead and --." Adam cleared his throat. His adam's apple bobbed harshly as he drank down his evident disgust. Anger swelled in Sophie's gut, vibrating throughout her body.

"Don't, Adam Sackler. Do not look at me like this. You KNEW!" Sophie's voice bellowed through the living room. "I told you, I couldn't have children remember? That wasn't just a lifestyle choice. I explained it all very carefully to you." Adam leaped from his spot, frantically running his hands through his hair.

"You said you couldn't get pregnant. But here you are, pregnant. Pregnant with my child." His tone dipped in desperation.

"It's not a child. It's a pregnancy. Don't put this on me, Adam. Please. I told you that I wouldn't be able to carry a child to full term. I told you." The weight of her words split her mind. It was bad enough that these thoughts plagued her mind every occasion that she strolled past a school or a park crowded with kids.

Or all the intruding conversations of 'when are you going to have children?' 'You are getting up there in age, sweetheart. You should consider.' The societal expectation that she should and could bear children produced countless episodes of worthlessness and failure. She believed she had escaped this topic with Adam after their initial conversation.

Adam kneeled and lowered his gaze. Sophie caught his sigh as he rubbed at his jaw.

"I know what we discussed, but it's at least something that we can look into? See a doctor first? Before we make any hasty conclusions." He faltered as he spoke, his pitch mounting in sentiment. Sophie wordlessly watched Adam's hunched form. His sniffling and deep breathing were venom in her veins. Her beautiful Adam, she knew her troubles would eventually destroy him and her both. Clawing into her arms, she attempted to steady her speech.

"I don't think you understand...It was made pretty clear to me that I can't have children. I guess we could get a hopeful Doctor and have them tell us to hold out and see..." Adam lifted his head, eyes eager and bloodshot. The optimism on his face induced bile up her esophagus. "You aren't the one who is going to have to go through the physical loss. The emotional toll isn't the only thing I will suffer through, please... Understand." Sophie's bottom lip quivered at the notion of going through it all again. She couldn't. Adam wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve as he stood.

"And I have to suffer knowing that this is the second chance I lose at becoming a father." His statement pierced through her. She was going to hurl.Hurrying to her feet, Sophie bolted herself in the bathroom before bowing over the toilet. Her head was a pulsating jackhammer.

"Sophie, kid. Open the door, let me help you." Sophie wept amidst upheavals. "Jesus fucking Christ kid, just unlock the door, please." Finally, Sophie regained her composure as she located a towel.

"Adam, just go." Sophie pleaded weakly, relishing in the coldness of the cloth on her blazing skin.

"Sophie, don't. Please don't do this. Let me in." Adam's voice fractured as his hands pounded against the wood. "I love you so much. I need this all to be okay." He cried. Sophie held herself, the sting of his earlier statements still raw. He would blame her forever. There wasn't winning here.

Sure, he would be more understanding on the surface if she miscarried. Still, he set her up to be the villain, with her not wanting to follow through with the pregnancy. She couldn't look him in the eyes each day, knowing that he resented her for all of this. Sophie shook when Adam roared incoherently. She stilled in the abrupt silence of the apartment. A few brief moments passed before Adam was back at the door.

"I am going to a hotel.” Sophie heard Adam's hesitation. "Text me when you are ready to talk." Then, skipping a beat, he breathed 'I love you' and 'I am sorry' before his scuffling was gone. Sophie slumped to the tile, desperate for relief from the ache in her breast, pulsating mind, and hollowness in her stomach.

- - - -

Sophie opened her eyes, blinking at the harshness of the overhead light. She had cried herself to sleep. Standing up, Sophie searched for the ibuprofen. She felt hungover. Glancing at the bathroom mirror, she grimaced. Swollen eyes and puffy cheeks stared back at her. Sophie unlocked the door, as she did, a large object fell towards her, sending her into a fury, jumping backward and screaming. She heard Adam's voice through her yells.

"KID! It's me. It's me." Adam jumped up from the floor, his hands stretching out towards Sophie. "Shh... It's just me." Adam drew Sophie to him, enveloping her into his chest. Sophie's mind intuitively eased as his comforting scent overwhelmed her thoughts.

"I thought you went to a hotel." She murmured into his shirt, pressing her face further into his breast. Adam's grip tightened as he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I couldn't. I got to the bottom of the stairs and turned back around. My entire fucking world is right here. Why would I go anywhere else?" Sophie's muscles tightened as the previous conversation rushed back to her. Adam immediately cupped her face in his hands. "Kid, let's go to bed. Let me hold you. We don't need to talk about this anymore tonight. Let's go to bed, please." Adam's wide amber eyes silently pleaded for her to listen. Sophie nodded. Her body was heavy, her mind pained and hazy.

Adam removed both his and Sophie's clothes before pulling back the sheets and comforter. Opening his arms, he dragged her to him. Wrapping his legs and arms around her, he caged her to him.

"Sleepy time." He teased quietly as he caressed kisses into her hair. Sophie sighed deeply before allowing the steady rise and fall of Adam's chest to lull her to sleep.

- - -

Sophie woke to Adam lying on top of her, his head peacefully nuzzled into her breasts. Shaking her head and smirking, she worked her fingers through his black mane. Adam let out a small grunt.

"I've missed you so much." He mumbled, his voice gravelly from sleep.

"Me, too," Sophie whispered, scratching her nails over his scalp. Adam nudged her breast with his nose before lifting his face to look at her. Sophie moved her hand to Adam's face, running her finger down his proud nose. He really was the most handsome man.

"Can we just try?" He blurted out. "I know you are scared. I am scared to, but kid, I want to try. I know it's not fair for me to ask this of you, and if you really say you can't, I will let it go..." Adam's voice trailed off as his lips trembled.

Sophie was surprised her brain didn't spiral at his words. She couldn't deny the fact that she had thought about trying to go through with it over the last few weeks. Sophie's eyes shifted to the freckles spattered across Adam's features.

Would their child have freckles like him? Would they come out rolly polly, all smiles, ears a little too big, and a mess of black hair? Adam dropped his face back to her sternum. Both of them laid in silence for a while before Sophie cleared her throat. Adam immediately was on alert.

"We will talk to the Doctor and see what they say... Then we make a decision." She whispered, swallowing down the knot that was forming. Adam nodded.

"Then we make a decision." He repeated before caressing a delicate kiss to her lips.

- - - - -

The Doctor shut the exam room's door softly, leaving Sophie and Sackler alone with their thoughts. The Doctor had explained that Sophie was officially two months along. Everything looked fine but informed of the complications with Sophie's medical history the Doctor had told them it would be a gamble but could be a viable pregnancy. Sophie sobbed.

Adam accompanied her in her weeping as the Doctor inquired if they wanted to hear the heartbeat. Despite the nagging pain in her chest, Sophie agreed. Sackler clasped her hand to his tear-soaked lips as the steady pulse sounded throughout the room.

Now, the two sat in silence, attempting to regain their composure. Sophie stared at the white tiles. She knew he was already wholeheartedly invested. She had watched him shake, snot dripping down his nose as the exam was done. Lifting her head, Adam was staring at her, his face flushed from his emotional outburst. His arms crossed protectively across his broad chest.

"Okay." She sputtered, her breathing intensifying as her mind accepted her decision. Adam jumped back, his hands immediately rubbing his jaw.

"Really?" His eyes grew as he kept his distance. Was he putting up an invisible wall? Sophie sucked on her bottom lip, nodding.

"Yeah, let's try." She whispered, her eyes stinging as the emotions resurfaced. Adam sprang towards her cupping her face in his hands.

"Kid, I love you. It's going to be okay." His speech raced. Afraid to welcome his enthusiasm, she forced a weak smile. Adam held her face to his, intently locking his gaze with hers. “Thank you for trying, that's enough for me. It’s more than enough.” Adam paused. "I am here no matter what happens. I am not going anywhere. I got you.” Sophie caressed her nose against Adam's.

"We got each other."

- - - - - - -

Lovelies: @daydreamsofren @cornmousequeen @sacklerscumrag @caillea @direnightshade @finn-ray-nal-beads @mylifeisactuallyamess @leatherboundbirate @theoncrayjoy @maybe-your-left @hopeamarsu @zimmermansbrat @historyandfandoms50 @sister-winter73 @relationshipwithmybed @themuseic @starskylo @millenialcatlady @tashastrange89 @theodorealastair @insufferablelust @iamasithprincess @tashastrange89 @butyoudidthis4what @xxcatrenxx @jynzandtonic @blowthatpieceofjunk @paper-n-ashes @roanniom

Thank you for reading!

If you enjoy my stories, let me know! My Inbox is open, and I welcome comments! Please reblog if you fancy sharing this piece.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 13

A/N: Always and first thank you to my bestie @chloes-yellow-cup for always doing the thing. and to @kimmania who always gives each chapter a thoughtful review. 

13.  

“Oh, my dear it’s so lovely of you to come to brunch. I was starting to feel a little put off you know. All those invitations you so politely refused. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

Stacie smiled and sipped her cool iced tea to give herself a moment. It was true, she had ignored all of Edith’s requests to have lunch. And yes, she had been avoiding the older woman. It was a matter of self-preservation really. Keeping up the appearance of normality around someone as observant as Edith Roussard-Ford was never easy. She had a keen eye and open ear to everything that happened to the biggest families in society.

“Well…I suppose I can be frank with you. Now…that things are…resolved.”

The old woman across from her nodded encouragement and leaned forward eager for any tidbit she could glean from Stacie. It was necessary even she’d rather not talk about life with Weston. When dealing with Edith you had to give some to get some.

“Of course, my dear. Dreadful business…”

“It was hard to get away…often times my only haven was my work. Weston was…” Stacie trailed off and cleared her throat. It wasn’t acting, the rush of anxiety she experienced just thinking about that time robbed her of speech. “Weston Whitman was a very controlling man. Controlling and more often than not…violent.”

It never got any easier admitting the truth of things but she raised her chin defiantly. Edith’s eyes widened slightly but her surprise was more about Stacie admitting it than the confirmation itself. She waited a beat for the other woman to ask what she knew was coming.

“Oh, dreadful. Just dreadful. And still…you never knew? There wasn’t a hint of suspicion about his true character?”

“Of his character, yes. Of his actual coming and goings and affairs…no. I had no knowledge of those terrible things. I shudder to think of him, under my roof, sleeping next to me self-satisfied with the blood of innocent women on his hands. What a joke I must have been to him with my work at the shelter, helping him keep up the façade unknowingly.”

“To think nothing of the scandal about the money.”

Of course, the money was far more important a topic than her public humiliation and shame. Stacie let her gaze drop demurely. Money was everything in this world, who had it, who needed it, and who stole it…

“I’ll admit Edith, I had some concerns about Weston’s business. He seemed edgy and evasive and he asked me to empty my personal safe…spending cash. Some jewelry. It was nothing that would ever pay back his investors.”

“I heard the federal agents seized everything. It’s a wonder you have a roof over your head, my dear.”

Stacie’s smile was brief and coy. “Much like oil and water, money and love simply do not mix. When you’re a Conrad you learn that at quite a young age.”

Edith leaned back to watch her carefully. Weighing all that she had learned and the earnestness in which Stacie had conveyed it. She could see the respect dawn in Edith’s gaze and when the woman leaned forward again it was with eager confidence.

“You may be a Conrad in name but you are Helene’s daughter in more than appearance. Your father barely had a nickel to his name when she ran off with him. Now there’s a scandal for you!”

It was surprising and Edith laughed gleefully when it showed on her face. She’d been raised her whole life on the presumption that her mother hand done what she had been expected to do. Money marries into money.

“Didn’t know that did you? She might have run off with August but she was no fool. Van der Berg family lawyers ensured he couldn’t take a dime of it.” Interesting. Stacie made a soft thoughtful sound and Edith continued unprompted. “You have to hand it to August. He made a name for himself. All that money is his by right…I suppose.”

Stacie’s brows came up and she tipped her head to the side. “You sound doubtful of that Edith.”

“I wouldn’t dream of speaking ill of your father, dear. I know you’re not close but there are some bonds that can’t be broken. Family bonds. You understand. I wouldn’t want you to have different opinions of your father. He’s done well by your mother.”

It was there, below the surface, begging to brought into the open. Stacie could feel it between them, brewing like a great storm. One little flicker of interest and it would come out. And then things would change forever between Stacie and August Conrad. And with that she was sure the tentative and fragile bridge she and her mother were building.

But if she were really like her mother, Helene would understand why she was doing this. At least that is what she hoped if this all ever came to light. Stacie let out a soft sigh and leaned back. She couldn’t out right ask about it, it had to be done delicately. Edith watched her work through the knowledge that there was something going on that she hadn’t been aware of. It was a careful dance baiting the woman to reveal more than what Stacie herself had given.

“Well, whatever my father is or is not doing, it’s nothing I know about. He and Weston shared that in common.”

“Ah yes. Thick as thieves those two…”

There it was. The hook Edith thought she was dropping in the water. Stacie batted her eyes in mild confusion, ignoring the slightly predatory smile on the old woman’s face. Her lip pouted out just enough to give the impression that she wasn’t making the leap entirely. Stacie smiled inwardly as Edith swallowed her own lure.

“Mind you, I’m not saying August is a thief, he’s merely an opportunist you see. He’s very good at knowing who to know. It’s how he made his fortune through the years. Nothing illegal in it exactly. Most would say it’s a shrewd bit of business.”

“But I don’t see how that could help him benefit from Weston’s…activities. Of course, he knows everyone, he’s a politician.”

“Hm indeed, indeed. Of course, he wouldn’t be involved in any such thing. Strike it from your thoughts, my dear.” The woman brushed a hand over her knuckles, and not for the first time during the conversation. Aubrey probably would have called the tell earlier but Stacie was proud of herself for picking it up now. “In any case I am quite sure Senator Grant and Warren Randall would lean very heavily on your father if they felt he was in any way responsible for Weston stealing their money.”

Stacie’s heart beat double time but she rolled her shoulders casually in a shrug. Jackson Grant and Warren Randall were her father’s closest confidants, present at every family function since as far back as she could remember. Uncle Jack had even gifted her the first horse she had ever owned. They were, in a fashion, family.

“I haven’t seen Uncle Jack in a few years. Not since his son Kodie and I went to Senior Prom together.”

It hadn’t been her choice of date, and the argument that had raged in the Conrad home had lasted three intolerable days, she and her mother butting heads on everything from the color of her dress to the way she wore her hair. Kodie wasn’t a bad guy and truthfully, he hadn’t wanted to go the dance with her any more than she had with them. But it had been arranged years before the event was even due to take place. In the end they both dutifully took their places next to each other for pictures in the foyer before escaping to the limo to get happily drunk on the well-stocked wet bar.

“I had almost forgotten about the blush of young love. I was worried about that boy for a while. You heard they caught him awhile back in a house full of street whores and enough cocaine to give that Tony Montana character a seizure.”

Her brows came up at that. It seemed unlike the boy she had known but people changed and it took more strength to keep from breaking under the family pressure than perhaps Kodie had. She let her curiosity at the topic glimmer to the surface.

“A house full of…he was the perfect gentleman at prom. I can hardly imagine that scene.”

“Who can say what’s gotten into that young man. If Jackson hadn’t gotten him a job at the Port of Los Angeles, he’d probably be in an out of rehab facilities I imagine.”

She could tell by the way Edith waved a hand dismissively that Kodie wasn’t worth the energy to think on. Stacie lifted a shoulder casually giving it the appropriate gesture of disinterest that was expected. There wasn’t much more to gain from digging further. Eventually Edith would wonder why she was so eager to gossip about the families. It was better to go on to something everyone knew.

“Speaking of rehab, did you know Tristaan has a new line coming out now that he’s clean and sober? He plans to call it Clarity. I saw a sneak peek of some of the pieces and they are just gorgeous. You’d just adore the mother of pearl pin collection…”

The conversation shifted easily and she spent another hour enjoying the afternoon with Edith. She kept the tone of their topics light but her mind was turning over the information she’d gleaned. Stacie was willing to bet even money that Uncle Jack and Warren Randall were in on whatever Weston was into. Whatever business they had together scared Weston, enough to demand she empty her safe, liquidate assets…it was big. Big enough to ignore Weston’s predilection to torturing and murdering women. Stacie knew there was a bigger play on the table, she could feel it even if she couldn’t see it yet. They needed more information and she knew just which card to play. She waved one last time to Edith as she slid into the backseat of the SUV.

“Home?”

She gave Happy a distracted nod that the blonde smiled at before turning to put the car in gear. “Who do we know in drugs?”

Happy’s bright eyes cut to her quickly in the rearview mirror with curiosity. She was weighing the request to see if Stacie was joking or not. After a second she gave a delicate grunt and focused on the road.

“Depends on how much of what you’re looking for.”

“Enough cocaine to make Tony Montana have a seizure.”

This time the eyes panned up in a slow disbelieving arc. Stacie smiled widely and gestured to the street to remind the other woman to keep her focus where it needed to be.

“We might know a guy…”

“Good. Aubrey’s going to want to talk to him.”

“I’ll make it happen, boss.”

[dontwarnthetadpoles]

Best Buffy & Willow platonic and romantic moments: Season 1

I changed the order of the words in the title because the scenes i’m commenting are more platonic than romantic. The romance is mostly an effect of my interpretation and writing at this point (it will be true until season 4). I also removed the end “ love at first sight” for the same reason. It seems more clear to present it this way.   

Never Kill a Boy on the First Date (Episode 5). 

Finally an episode with ambitious writing and a decent budget!  The stakes are upped with a new prophecy, a new enemy raising, and Buffy’s personal life starting to collide with her professional calling as a slayer.    

Let’s focus on Buffy and Willow:

Remember this during Welcome to the Hellmouth?: 

Willow: Oh, I could totally help you out! Uh, if you have sixth period free we could meet in the library? 

Buffy: Or not. Or we could meet someplace quieter. Louder. Uh, that place just kinda gives me the wiggins. 

Willow: Oh, it has that effect on most kids. I love it, though, it's a great collection, and the new librarian is really cool. 

Buffy: He's new? 

Willow: Yeah, he just started. He was a curator at some British museum, or The British Museum, I'm not sure. But he knows everything, and he brought all these historical volumes and biographies and am I the single dullest person alive?

That’s Willow in a nutshell: so very bookwormy and nerdy. I can totally relate.

Someone else who relates to Willow’s passion for books in this episode is Owen, Buffy’s new love interest. He’s obviously a book lover: he goes everywhere with his copy of Emily Dickinson’s complete poems that he enjoys so much that he doesn’t shy from calling it his security blanket in front of the girl he likes. Even Xander who tried to distract Buffy from her gloomy thoughts after she missed a date with Owen, picked up on this detail and said that a lot of guy can read and that he himself can read. 

To draw from this the conclusion that Buffy has a thing for avid readers and serious students and that sweet Willow fits the pattern, is something i won’t shy neither from doing. 

It’s  also worth to note that even Angel’s personality has been retconned later in the show to fit the type: he offered her a poetry book and was seen reading a french philosopher.   

More parallels that make me smile: seems that Buffy has also a seduction technique to approach her crushes. Like waiting for the lunchtime, to see if they are alone and to offer to keep them company. Owen Is just like Willow more than happy to share any time of the day with her.

Meanwhile Willow is working very hard to win the award of the best friend of the year: she supports dutifully Buffy’s amazement at everything that Owen does or says, which (short off topic) made me reconsider the coldness/neutrality of her reaction toward Angel in the last episode. 

Contrary to Xander, she wasn’t much impressed by his looks and seemed more amused by Xander’s jealousy than curious to know more about the mysterious stranger. An important detail for me because i’m a little obsessed with the Angel/Buffy/Willow triangle - it exists mostly in the subtext and my obsession comes from littles clues i see in the script and directing - though the writers stayed very subtle about it.  

How cute did Buffy and Willow look when they were falsely arguing about Owen’s invitation to the Bronze being or not a big deal? On a scale of 1 to 10, they were at level 20. It’s almost a superpower.

 I love especially this dialogue with Giles just after::

Buffy/Willow: What are you talking about?

Giles:What are you talking about?

Buffy/Willow: Boys.

Giles: I'm talking about trouble.     

Boys are indeed trouble but girl friends are safe and loyal, and that’s why Buffy relies on Willow to help her pick an outfit for her 1st date with Owen.

Which leads us to their best scene of the episode: in Buffy’s bedroom. 

This first Willow and Xander visit to Buffy’s house and how they felt immediately at home in her bedroom is the kind of scene written to make you fall in love with the show if it wasn’t already the case. It’s such a pure, wholesome and true moment.

It worked so well on  the young me who was discovering the show and for who invitations and sleepovers were something so hard to be allowed to do because of family rules. In the show, it means promise of intimacy, trust and shared secrets, and that Buffy’s home will be a place to feel protected for my favourite characters. 

And the show didn’t disappoint: the Summer’s house will become for all of them an integral a part of their life. Willow will live literally in it for two years. It was almost a character, just like the town before its destruction.

However beyond the nostalgia, the scene gives me also mixed feelings: 

I loved without hesitation everything about Buffy and Willow having already reviewed and picked her outfit, hair and make up way before Xander arrived. Sharing fashion tips (and shopping too) with your girl friends as a teenager is one of the most satisfying experience. It intensifies the relationship like nothing else. So they clearly have reached a new friendship level here. (Though i wasn’t aware that they were so close that they could change clothes in front of each other. Like how else did Buffy put on her golden/yellow dress!?).

There is in those moments a sense of normality that both Willow and Buffy are craving for different reasons (Willow because her solitude keeps her away from it, Buffy because of her mission). 

But i’m really against her decision to use Xander to test on him what Owen would think of her looks. 

The less depressing interpretation is that Buffy might be trying to show to Willow that she got her message from the last episode (Teacher’s Pet) about her feelings for Xander: 

Willow: No, no, no! See? Xander's, I like his head! I-it's where you find his eyes, and his hair, and his adorable smile...

But Xander is doing the same thing to Willow, and the fact that Buffy who has so much influence on them, joins them in this attitude validates this way of thinking that people can be used if they have feelings for you.

It will complicate their relationship for the rest of the show to the point that 7  seasons later Willow will still think that people won’t stay with her or love her if they don’t need her.   

But back to this episode to conclude: sadly after this point our heroines are taken away from each other and dragged to the land of love triangles, located at the Bronze. While Buffy doesn’t know anymore to who give her attention between Owen and Angel, Willow fakes a date with Xander and meets Angel officially. 

The episode ends with Buffy making a choice to not keep Owen in her life  because of the danger, while she never had the same doubts about Willow (and Xander)...

And though she has very reasonable reasons to not want Owen around, who can blame her to dismiss him and keep Willow close when they both look like this together (their matching colors are making me melt)?

[mydisasteracademia]

Random Shigaraki Headcanons

This boi. This grubby boi. I love him so much but at the same time he would probably literally dust me so... (oof this one kinda dragged on and on... lol)

Literally has no idea about real-life relationship dynamics outside of what he’s observed in his own parents, in Sensei, and in Kurogiri. All he thinks in the beginning is that people who claim to love you will stand by and let you be hurt, that villains took care of him better than any damn hero, and that he can only truly rely on himself. (And Sensei.)

It takes a loooooooong time of interacting with other people to break himself out of this mindset, and even then, sometimes it comes creeping back if bad things happen.

Getting into canon territory with this one, but really, really, reeeeeeeeally hates heroes because they didn’t even bother to help him when he was going through a whole mental breakdown. Literally one of the only reasons he hates them so much. I know this is pretty much canon, but I doubt he would ever grasp Stain’s ideology of ‘maybe some are good’ because in his eyes, not even the underground pro heroes even bothered to see if he was okay. Remember the scene from the manga with the old lady when he was a child? Yeah. There were bound to be heroes he bumped into, even off-duty ones, and nobody even gave him another glance.

Has extremely bad abandonment issues. If he likes you, he’s gonna want to keep you because he didn’t really have anything nice to call his own while growing up, and Sensei kept him fairly isolated so he literally tolerates nobody else other than him and Kurogiri at first. Reacts horribly when his friends want to break off the friendship. Goes through a whole depressive episode for a while, his old insecurities pop back up, and he really thinks he’s worse than trash and not worth anyone’s time or attention for a while. Prime time for Sensei to further twist his mind.

On that same note, if you’re dating, for the love of everything still good in this world do not break his heart. He will never forgive you. Literally will go to the grave before he forgives you for doing what you did (whether it be cheating on him or completely dropping him like a hot potato). Although this might also extend to little issues that make him feel like you don’t love him enough, he’ll forgive you if you show him plenty of attention and apologize for whatever he was upset over. If you cannot remain patient through his toxic mindsets, it’s best not to get into a relationship in the first place with him if you want to still remain friends afterward, because breaking it off means instant heartbreak.

Anyway! Back to happier, funnier hcs!!

The whole embodiment of the “Wears black in summer because I look good and am willing to suffer” vine. Will not give up his comfy black shirt and sweats for anything because yes, he does look good in black, and yes, he is willing to suffer. He’ll switch to a v-neck tee though. Even he’s not that masochistic.

Really prone to dry skin. I know that’s canon, but just... this poor man can’t keep moisturized to save his own life. Constantly has to apply a special moisturizer that’s specifically made for ultra-sensitive skin and has no scents whatsoever.

Will gripe about having to spend so much money on ointment and moisturizer for both him and Dabi. It’s one of the very few things they bond over, other than having a shitty father and pushover family... and their hatred of All Might.

Shigaraki 100% would be Dabi’s alibi if he actually managed to kill Endeavor. When it comes to the shitty dad club, he’s a fuckin’ ride-or-die.

Kinda sensitive over the fact that both he and Midoriya have the same sort of red shoes, but he loves his pair too much to throw them out. Purposefully aims for Midoriya’s shoes every single time they meet each other on the off chance that they get ruined enough for him to get different shoes, unknowing that he literally can’t just... get differently-colored shoes due to him being originally Quirkless (yes, The Shoes™ theory strikes again)

Literally never forgets a single thing about people he cares about. He’s the type of person who will remember every single thing you tell him about yourself, and especially birthdays. While he doesn’t exactly show his affection very loudly, he would be the type of person who tell you “happy birthday” on the day of as soon as he first sees you, and would treat you a little nicer all day that day.

This boy just has the biggest, scarred heart for his ‘good crowd’. I cannot stress enough just how much like Midoriya he could’ve turned out if he hadn’t been abandoned by society. This mf would give the green bean a run for his motherfuckin money.

“I really just hate the world and everything in it... except for you, maybe I could make an exception for you because you’re nice to me and I appreciate your company too much”

Even though I hc quite a few League members to be like cats when it comes to affection, Shigaraki’s spirit animal is a cat. Likes to lounge about in off-moments, slow to affection and very quick to remember exactly how people treat him, yet if he likes you he shows affection quietly enough that it’s not obvious at first. Like “oh, you’re in the same room as me. It’s not like I missed you or anything, me sitting right next to you at the bar when it’s totally empty means nothing. The fact that I’m looking right at you when you’re talking doesn’t mean I like you.”

LOVES HUGS. If you hug him and he likes you, you’ve probably made his whole day. Depending on how things are going, probably his whole fucking week. Just please hug him, he needs positive affection so bad

Major tsun-tsun. The most tsun-tsun. Grumpy until you get to know him, and if he likes you he’ll show you in little ways: listening to your ideas more, letting you stay closer for longer, maybe getting you something like food.

AFRAID OF TOUCH. I REPEAT, AFRAID OF TOUCH. Not from anyone he likes, of course; this baby is so touch-starved that he deserves a thousand hugs. But if he likes you, he will not initiate physical affection because he’s so afraid of accidentally dusting you. The memories of his family dying (except for his father, because #FuckKotaro2k21) haunt him almost every time he dreams (and if that doesn’t, then other traumatizing events certainly do), and he absolutely would not forgive himself if he dusted his favorite League member/civilian.

Definitely likens the rest of the League to his MVPs after a while of knowing them. Knowing how he operates, it’s adorable.

Would begrudgingly let Toga play around with his hair. I can just see him sitting blank-faced, staring at the mirror as she talks about whatever while brushing and braiding it into a cute plait. He would be hesitant to undo her hard work afterward, no matter how much he grouches that it “ruins his boss vibe”.

The kind of person to go to McDonalds at 3 AM just because he was craving chicken nuggets and ranch. Yes, ranch. He’s an old-school mf who don’t got no time for no barbecue.

Gets really irritated over Toga mooning over Uraraka and Midoriya, but doesn’t stop her from talking about how much she wants to ‘be’ them. (Encourages homicide. Advises homicide. Spinner has to stop her from actually getting ready to commit homicide.)

Disgruntled™

G L O A T S about the time he took away Overhaul’s chance to use his Quirk. “Yeah, we would’ve been satisfied with Compress taking his left arm away to be petty, but then Overhaul had to be a sentient piece of dick cheese, and well, y’know I couldn’t let him get away with that”

It’s becoming a problem. The others have learnt to tune him out once he gets going. Compress just smiles under the mask when he remembers it. Nobody knows what he’s really thinking.

His damn crowning moment. His apex point. There’s no going further beyond that (until he finally defeats Midoriya and takes over Japan as the world’s most feared villain of all time).

“Shigaraki, I’mma let you finish, but AFO still holds the record for being the most infamous villain of all time! Of all time!” <-- let the boy dream okay, he’s been waiting for this moment his whole damn life

Can you tell that I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass? Because I’m still horribly salty over Overhaul being an ass

Chronic emo phase. Hears the G note and just sighs heavily

Has probably seen hentai. Doesn’t really get the appeal of high-pitched feminine screams. Probably more of a tiddy man than an ass man. Just... boobie

His first fictional crush was Aeris/Aerith. Legitimately lost his shit when she died.

Man Crush Monday is Sephiroth all the way. Especially his one-winged angel form. Wanted to cosplay him for Halloween but didn’t because the cosplay was too costly.

Will make “That’s what she said” jokes in the most deadpan voice. At least Mustard kinda snickers at them.

Probably would’ve been pretty patient with Eri. Her traumatic past certainly would’ve pitted her as a kindred spirit with him, and he would think her Quirk would be a powerful asset if used right. Probably would’ve practiced it by destroying something and then telling her to rewind it so that he can break it again.

Shigaraki, holding Eri by her armpits: “I’ve only had her for ten minutes but if anything happened to her I’d dust everyone in the room to make her feel better”

The rest of the League: “???????? Okay?????”

Legitimately holds a powerful grudge against parents who abuse or neglect their children, especially against abusive fathers. Almost as powerful as his hatred for All Might. Will actively go after someone he sees is abusive to their children and will not let them live.

Would probably adopt an orphan after killing their abusive parents. “Oh, that was your dad/mom/parent? Well guess you’re mine now. Let’s go get chicken nuggets, kid”

Might somehow rope Dabi into going abusive-parent-hunting with him during a raid. Takes great pleasure in seeing the guilty party’s horrified, pained look on their face as they slowly dissolve into a pile of ash.

[mlqcconfessions]

*chanting* the boys as dads. the boys as dads. tHE BOYS AS DADS. THE BOYS AS DADS! THE BOYS AS DADS!! (plus points if the kid looks JUST like MC?)

YESS. YESSS.

YESSSSSSSS

MLQC Headcanon - Our little treasure

Victor

He’s the father of a lovely daughter, who looks just like you (to his amusement)

He loves waking up in the morning seeing MC 1.0 and MC 2.0 in bed together

Calls her his little angel (Does that make him Father angel?)

He buys the best presents on her birthday (which unofficially became a celebrated holiday at LFG)

You and your daughter sometimes visit him at the office (much to his delight)

Finishes an entire day’s worth of documents so he can dedicate his time to playing with her

Has her toy kitchen set placed in the corner of his office (so she can bake him a cake while he works which he pretends to eat)

HAS A FRAMED PICTURE OF YOU AND HIS DAUGHTER ON HIS DESK (taken from when you were going apple picking last fall)

He hangs the “I love you” card she made for him on her 3rd birthday on his wall (shows it off to Goldman who doesn’t get paid enough to listen to his boss’ gushes)

Loves the outfits you dress her in (loves it even more when you two are matching)

Hosts the most extravagant parties to celebrate the most random events (the biggest one to date was when she said “dadda” for the first time)

Makes her pudding, but not too often

He wants to prevent her from going to the dentist (just in case she gets scared)

Victor, she’s going to have to go see a dentist someday

He tries hard to not let his daughter become spoiled

He makes her work for rewards

But is actually weak against her tears (you’re the one who has to set your foot down, most of the time)

He looks forward to going home after work (sometimes makes Goldman lock the doors to LFG so he can go home faster)

He loves being greeting by the two of you, while she runs up to hug him

He feels so content in these moments that nothing seems impossible

So he’s ready for another one

Kiro

TWIN. SONS.

SO RAMBUNCTIOUS (he’s actually the loudest one)

He notices their love for music early on

He sings along with them while bathing them

Spends the little break times he has to memorize the opening of their favorite show (he takes on one of the characters to dance with his sons)

He brings his sons to the recording studio, letting them go wild inside

He secretly records them singing in the booth (sets it as his ringtone)

Definitely the type to tell them stories about the monster in the closet, with dramatic sound effects (that’s not what your angelic voice is for, Kiro)

He’s so intrigued at how they look like you (but with blond hair)

Doesn’t like getting mad often, but will do it if he has to (actually pretty scary when he’s scolding them)

He asks Savin all sorts of questions (that he honestly doesn’t want to know the context of)

Savin, how do you remove a ring from a baby’s stomach? 

You found out later from Savin (I left the room for 5 minutes, Kiro. And you let the baby swallow your ring?)

Frequent games of “Who can hug mommy the tightest?” (he just picks you up bridal style, letting your legs dangle over the twins’ heads)

Insists he tags along on play dates with the neighborhood kids

He gets along so well with the parents?

Gives standing ovations at their school plays (YES! Do you see those trees? They’re MY trees!)

He makes things like chores and brushing teeth into a game (so they won’t be as hostile towards them)

150% wears matching pajamas with the twins (honestly, it’s like you’re raising 3 kids)

Has mini concerts at home (it’s good that you live in a house, and not an apartment)

WRITES SONGS ABOUT HIS SONS

Performs them on tours ONLY when he knows you’ll bring them there

Has a bedtime routine with them (kiss mommy goodnight, kiss daddy goodnight daddy kisses mommy goodnight)

Always wakes up to see them in weird sleeping positions (takes a picture every time, later makes them into a full album became the present for their 18th birthday)

Lucien

A beautiful daughter, a beautiful wife

Nothing more he could ask for

He’s into making home videos (likes to watch them in between his lectures)

He just likes looking at her (because she reminds him so much of you)

Isn’t reluctant to introduce her to the other professors (but doesn’t like it when they get a little too close)

He can’t hide his triumphant smirk whenever she tells him to pick her up (sorry Dr., it seems my daughter is wary of strangers)

He likes noticing the small details about his child (and how she has the same habits as you)

Like how you stick out your tongue when concentrating

Or how one eye squints a little more than the other when smiling

He buys a tiny lab coat for her (after she said she wanted to be a white fairy princess like her dad)

RAISES. BUTTERFLIES. WITH. HER. (the whole caterpillar to cocoon shabang)

He calls her his Blue Morpho (you’re his Monarch)

Explains every animal during trips to the zoo (she loves calling the animals by their scientific names)

He’s so tall? He has to bend down in order to hold her hand (the reason why he just rolls the stroller instead / just picks her up)

He does little science experiments with her (safe ones, of course)

He takes her word for it when she exclaims how colorful everything is

You sometimes bring her to classes when he’s scheduled to lecture

The class can’t focus while a toddler keeps drawing stuff on the board

He plays picture card games with her

Ok, then what animal is this one?

Leopardus pardalis! (You actually can’t keep up with their conversations sometimes)

He has to hold her hand during her naps (she said it helps her fall asleep better, or something like that)

He’s not complaining

Gavin

He can’t believe this is actually happening

He’s going to be a FATHER

And with YOUR child! (the nurses had to stop him from barging into the room so often)

He insisted that he try the Empathy Belly (so he could exactly know what you were going through during pregnancy)

Didn’t think it would be THIS difficult to just live a daily life

SO PROTECTIVE over his daughter (literally follows closely behind her)

He was honestly worried about being a dad (especially after growing up with that asshole kind of parent)

You put full trust in him because Gavin is DIFFERENT from his father (and now he can believe that)

He loves just how much she looks like you (it’s like watching a mini-you run around the house)

Has workout sessions with her (push-up kisses, squats with her dangling on his shoulders, bench presses with her as weight)

Likes it when she tags along with him to the police station (he brags to the other officers every time)

But bringing her to STF? NO WAY IN HELL (although Eli does come over sometimes)

He changed his diet (from instant ramen) so she could be a healthy child

Has an entire closet full of bandages, ointments, and medicine for when she’s hurt or gets sick (if only he took care of his own injuries like that)

But he is a lot more careful when fighting on the scene

He doesn’t want her to cry over his wounds like LAST TIME (he was so surprised)

Uncle Minor acts as the unofficial godfather (he’s actually good at taking care of kids?)

Gavin teaches her how to ride a 2-wheeled bike (he’s so afraid of letting go, even if she insisted)

He likes taking her out on flights when she’s a little older (they always visit the Ferris wheel afterwards)

He makes another ginkgo bracelet just for her

He has pretend tea parties with her and you (Uncle Minor is the butler for some reason)

He keeps the drawing of you, Gavin, and her safely tucked inside his pocket during missions (it’s his good luck charm)

Doesn’t let her use Sparky, but does let her help him clean it

DEFINITELY THE TYPE TO WALK WITH HER ON HIS SHOULDERS (she’s holding on his neck, chin resting on the top of his head)

Worries about the future boyfriend she’s gonna bring home 

Gavin, she’s only 5

Well, yeah but for NOW

WHEW

That was a lot of fluff

Which was your favorite part? Mine would probably be Gavin working out with his daughter (because I’m Birdcop trash like that and actually imagined it)

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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

(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.

[callboxkat]

The Truth

Fandom: Supernatural

Author’s note: I chose to begin the story with the scene in Billie's library. That part mostly aligns with canon, but I feel it provides important context for the confession. Most of the dialogue comes from this transcript: http://www.supernaturalwiki.com/15.18_Despair_(transcript)

Summary:  The confession scene between Castiel and Dean ends a little differently.

Warnings: death, violence, injuries

Word count: 3764

Writing Masterpost!

...

“I'll let you in on something,” Billie says, her hand just barely keeping her own scythe away from her throat. She stands pressed against the wall of her library, where endless bookshelves stretch in either direction, each one containing hundreds of tomes, each one detailing someone’s death. She seems unconcerned by the blade’s closeness—and she has reason not to be. She focuses on Dean, ignoring the angel behind him. “When you cut me… that little nick? It was fatal.” She grimaces. “Something I can't survive. See for yourself.”

She reaches with her free hand and pulls aside her coat—or rather, peels it back from where it sticks to her flesh, which has turned a necrotic green, visibly rotting away. The ugly wound has spread from the cut on her shoulder across part of her chest, stretching down under her sleeve to an unknown extent. The infection seems to spread even in the moment before she allows the coat to fall back into place.

Dean falters slightly. Because Billie is right. That wound does not look survivable—that wound is death itself. Dealt by a blade that the previous Horseman had once said could reap God Himself. But he keeps the scythe at her throat—dying or not, Dean knows better than to lower it.

He may have made a mistake, coming here.

Billie places her other hand on the scythe, glaring.

“You killed me, Dean. So yeah, no. I don't care about your friends. I don't care about your family. But seeing you here has reminded me of something.” Her grimace of a smile widens, and she inhales sharply. “There is one thing I'd like… one wish, before I go. I'd like to see you dead.”

Dean’s expression hardens.

Billie suddenly shoves the scythe aside and surges forward, backhanding Dean with her right hand. Cas lunges forward to catch him. They both move towards Death—to do what, against her, neither knows—but Billie has already taken hold of her scythe and stands tall, powerful even as she grows closer to her end. She slices the scythe, Castiel and Dean barely lurching back in time to avoid it. Both men’s eyes are wide. This is not going to plan, not at all.

Billie smiles.

She thrusts out a hand and the angel and human are flung back, flying between two stark gray bookcases to land harshly on their backs. A single book on one shelf falls over, opening to blank pages.

Castiel and Dean struggle to their feet, Cas with one hand on Dean’s arm. He doesn’t seem to realize having done so, and keeps it there. Dean does notice, but he doesn’t mind. He reaches for Cas, as well.

Billie waits for them to get back up, standing there with her scythe. She is in no rush. She has a little time, for this. Maybe she’ll even kill the pet angel, first. Make Dean watch, before she claims him, too.

“I'm so glad you came.”

She stalks leisurely forward, amused as Dean and Cas dash down the row of bookcases, trying to get away. Yes, revenge is the perfect way to spend her final moments. Their fear alone is quite satisfying to watch. She follows her targets, smiling.

They manage to make it back to the door they’d so foolishly opened to reach her, and dash through the portal. It blends seamlessly back into the normal wall of the library as they close the portal.

No matter, Billie thinks. The chase is half the fun.

…

Dean and Cas run through the door, Cas slamming it shut behind them. The wall returns to regular brick. They are back in the bunker.

“Come on,” Dean says, reaching for Cas, already walking. Cas follows closely behind.

They know they are still not safe. Billie isn’t called Death, a Horseman, for nothing. Very few things can get in this bunker uninvited, but Dean is sure she is one of the ones that can.

Dean makes it to the map room, walking agitatedly. Because anything is better than just standing there, waiting for her to come. Dean spins around as he walks, searching for something, anything that can keep Death itself at bay. “Come on, Dean. Think, think!”

As Dean continues walking, searching, Cas speaks up, holding his hands out to the sides.

“Dean, where are you going?”

“I—I don’t know!”

“You know she can find us anywhere.”

Dean turns to him, desperate. “I know, I know that! I just....” He paces, then pauses opposite the angel. His voice quietens. “What do we do, Ca–“

Dean gasps, cut off by a shock of pain in his chest, like something has clawed its way inside and has sealed around his heart like a vice. There is a roaring in his ears, electricity in the air. The temperature drops several degrees.

Billie is here.

Dean groans, dropping to his knees, clutching his chest. Castiel stares in shock.

Billie stands behind him on the balcony above, one hand holding her scythe, the other held up, slowly clenching into a fist. She watches as Dean writhes. She is doused in shadow, but her satisfaction is palpable. Castiel knows she is smiling.

“Billie,” Cas says aloud. He looks at her, then drops to Dean’s side, taking him by the shoulders and trying to help him up.

“My heart—” Dean gasps, his voice gravelly with pain. “My heart. I can feel her.”

Billie, on the balcony, smiles wider. Her rotting, gnarled hand clenches  further, trembling. The power it takes to do this, to kill even this one human slowly, is draining her—she is quite close to the end now—but it is worth it, worth edging to her grave that much faster. Oh, is it worth it.

“Come on, Dean, we’ve gotta go,” Cas says. He can’t stop Billie, not right now, not like this. He has to get Dean out of there, somewhere they have time to think, to come up with something. He will not let Dean die like this. “Come on.”

He gets Dean on his feet and bears most of his weight as he guides the man down the hall, away from Billie, moving as fast as they can. Dean continues to groan in pain, but he is just as determined. 

Billie, meanwhile, steps lightly down the stairs, taking her time, her injured hand still outstretched. Bits of bone are visible now. She seems not to mind. She simply follows, relishing this moment.

“It's you, Dean,” Billie calls. “It's always been you. Death-defying. Rule-breaking. You are everything I lived to set right. To put down. To tame. You are human disorder incarnate.”

Cas and Dean hurry on, passing by the tables, the useless telescope, the books upon books of lore that probably wouldn’t have helped even if they had time to search for something, anything, that would help.

Billie clenches her hand again and Dean collapses against a wall. Cas touches his shoulders, worried, terrified. They are briefly hidden from Billie’s view by a row of bookshelves. But she continues forward, relentless. Castiel looks over his shoulder towards her voice and the sound of her all-too-calm footsteps.

Cas heaves Dean up and they disappear downstairs, Cas now practically carrying Dean through the halls of the basement level. Dean still clutches his heart. Neither of them knows how much longer he will last if nothing changes.

“I’ve got you,” Cas says, half to himself.

Billie follows them here, too. Her scythe taps on the floor with every other step, almost like a cane. Small cracks appear in the floor each place it touches. Even the concrete, infused with warding magic as it is, is not immune to its power.

“Come on, Dean,” Billie says, her voice echoing down the hall. “You can't escape me.”

She drags the blade of her scythe against the tile wall. Cracks and an ashen color spread from the tip of the blade, like a spreading infection. Sparks fly, flaring in the dimness.

Ahead of her but still far too close, Castiel and Dean hurry on, the grinding of the blade against the wall grating on their ears. Dean would cover his ears, but he can only manage another wince, one arm wrapped around Cas’s shoulder, the other clutching his chest.

Billie is having fun, toying with them. She strolls further forward, ignoring the infection clawing its way further up her chest, spreading like ink in water up her neck. “Don't you think it's finally time? Time for the sweet release of Death?”

Cas and Dean make it into the main storage room, and Cas slams the door shut behind them. Dean, released, stumbles to the side, only to be quickly steadied by his companion. Still, Dean doubles over, coughing, wheezing, holding his chest, leaning heavily on one of the shelving units. Billie’s vice grip continues to tighten. His vision is filled with black spots.

Cas finds a pocket knife in Dean’s back pocket—he knows his hunter well, and Dean would never be without one—and uses it to slice into his own palm. He then paints a bloody sigil on the door. It flares with light as Castiel finishes drawing. There is no such thing as warding for Death itself, but this is the closest and most powerful sigil he knows. He can only hope it will work. It has too.

As the glow of the sigil fades and its magic takes effect, Dean’s shoulders slump; and he takes in a deep breath, the pain fading. He straightens, leaning on the shelves.

“Thank you,” he gasps.

“It worked?” Cas asks, hardly believing it.

Dean swallows hard and nods once.

“It blocked her grip on you,” Cas observes, relieved, but not relaxing just yet.

Billie slams her fist into the door. It shudders, but does not yield.

Cas turns to look, and seeing that the warding is holding, looks back to Dean. He looks to one side, then the other, thinking. “Dean, she said that wound was killing her. Maybe we can wait her out.”

Dean drops his hand from his chest and levels a look at Cas. “Yeah, and if we can't?

Cas sets his jaw, his angel blade appearing in his hand. “Then we fight.”

Billie’s fist slams into the door again. The warding flares with light. Not quite so bright, this time.

Dean notices, and shakes his head. “We'll lose.” He looks around the storage room, at the solid walls, the single exit. He wanders over to the devil’s trap laid into the floor, and runs a hand along the back of the chair there. “I just led us into another trap,” he says, not needing to gesture at the literal prison they stand in.

Slam. The warding flares. Weaker.

“All because I couldn't hurt Chuck. Because I was angry, and because I just needed something to kill, and because that's all I know how to do.”

Cas takes a step forward, his heart breaking, because that’s not true at all. “Dean...”

Slam. Weaker.

Dean scoffs, his gaze darting to the door and back to Cas. “It was Chuck all along. We shouldn't have ever left Sam and Jack. We should be there with them right now.” His voice breaks, and his eyes are shining now, only making Castiel’s heart ache further. “Everybody's gonna die, Cas. Everybody. I never… I never even got to apologize to Jack. The kid probably still thinks I hate him. And Sam—I’ll never see Sam again.” He shakes his head. “I can't stop it. She's gonna get through that door.”

Slam. Weaker still.

Castiel’s angel blade disappears. He looks down. “I know,” he admits quietly.

“And she's gonna kill you, and she’ll make me watch. And then she's gonna kill me.” Slowly, he didn’t need to add. And everything, everything, is going to just… end.”

Slam. Weaker still. Cas looks over his shoulder, thinking. A part of him tells him that Dean is right, that this situation is hopeless. It might be different if he still had his wings, if he could take them somewhere, anywhere else, just for a little more time, enough to wait Billie out. It would be different if Jack was there, and if Jack still had his powers. There was a time when he was powerful enough—but their failed attempt to kill God has left Jack nearly powerless. His grace seemed barely strong enough to keep him alive.

Slam.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, a desolate resignation in his eyes.

But a thought has occurred to Castiel: Jack.

He pauses, staring ahead, thinking. “Wait, there is.... There's one thing she's afraid of. There's one thing strong enough to stop her.” He looks up and sees Dean staring at him.

Dean Winchester. Beautiful as ever.

Cas takes a breath, steadies himself, and decides. He looks Dean in the eye, suddenly strangely calm.

Slam. Cas barely hears it.

Dean senses the change in tone and frowns, waiting for Cas to continue. Which he does.

“When Jack was dying, I… I made a deal, to save him.”

Dean is taken aback. Of all the things he might have expected Cas to say, this was not one of them. “You what?”

He looks at Dean, almost pleading. This is the moment, he knows. “The p—the price was my life. When I experienced a moment of true happiness, The Empty would be summoned, and… it would take me. Forever.

Dean stares for a moment, processing. A moment they do not have. Billie’s fist slams, again, into the door.

“Why are you telling me this now?” Dean asks. He has a bad feeling about where this might be going, and he does not like it.

Cas smiles, tears already collecting in his eyes. “You know, I always wondered… ever since I took that burden, that curse, I wondered… what it could be? What my true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer, because the one thing I want... It's something I know I can't have. I’ve always known, I think. But I think I know... I think I know, now.” He smiles, a tear rolling down his cheek. His voice breaks. “Happiness isn't in the having, it's in just being. It's in just saying it.”

Dean doesn’t know how to even begin to process this. “What are you talking about, man?”

 Behind them, Billie continues her attack on the warding. But it holds, for now. And neither Cas nor Dean notices her anymore. Not really. This is their moment, not hers.

Castiel steps closer, looking at Dean earnestly. Willing him to understand, to believe him. “I know. I know how you see yourself, Dean. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive, and you're angry, and you're broken. You're “daddy's blunt instrument.” And you think that hate and anger, that's... That's what drives you, that's who you are. It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love. You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are. You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, loving human being I will ever know.” Castiel smiles. He’s crying, and he doesn’t care. “You know… ever since we met, ever since I pulled you out of Hell... knowing you has changed me.”

Dean blinks hard and looks down at the floor.

“Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about Sam, I cared about Jack... I cared about the whole world, because of you.” He takes another step forward. “You changed me, Dean.”

Dean clears his throat and speaks, quietly. Because he knows, he knows what is happening, and he knows what Cas plans have happen. But he asks, anyway. Because he doesn’t want to believe it. “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

Cas just gives him a soft look. “Because it is.”

Dean takes in a breath, to say what, he doesn’t know, but Cas cuts him off. He’s practically radiant with joy, at finally saying it. At speaking his truth, after all these years. Because even if he can’t have Dean, Dean will know.

“I love you,” he says. “I’m in love with you.”

Dean’s mouth opens. Closes. He stares. His voice is choked. “Cas, I… Please, don’t do this.”

Time has run out.  Behind Dean, the spine-chilling sound of the Empty grows, black goo squeezing through the bricks of the wall, tendrils branching out into this world. Dean’s mouth opens as he turns to stare at the rapidly opening portal, all too aware of what this means. There are tears in his eyes, now.

Castiel knows, too. He is still smiling. Still joyful. Radiant. Because he’s finally said it. After twelve years. He spoke his one, deepest truth. He is ready.

Dean’s mind is running a million miles a minute. “Cas….”

Billie has broken through the warding. The door swings open, and she steps through, grinning. The necrosis of what were once small wounds has spread, eating away at her arm, her chest, her neck. The hand that was cut by the scythe is practically skeletal, now. What is visible of her chest is little more than bone, gaps visible between them and ribbons of gray-green flesh. Yet her grip on her scythe remains steady.

She hasn’t seen the Empty, yet.

Cas ignores both entities, focused only on Dean. His eyes shimmering with tears, he steps forward, and puts a hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Goodbye, Dean.”

But Dean isn’t quite ready for a goodbye, yet.

“No!” Dean says. He grabs Cas’s hand—the cut one—and shoves Cas aside. Cas is so surprised by the turn of events that it works, and he stumbles, not quite falling, staring at Dean, confused, now. There’s a bloody hand print on his shoulder, just where the now-faded mark was on Dean’s shoulder, from when Cas raised him from Perdition.

Billie steps further into the room. And then she sees the Empty. Her expression falters, her head tilting to the side. “Oh….”

She doesn’t finish. The black slime of the Empty slams into her, climbing and crawling and consuming until nothing is left but a ball of blackness; and then Death herself is sucked into the Empty.

Gone. Forever.

Cas smiles at Dean, a small, knowing smile. One of relief that Dean is safe, but also resignation. Because the Empty is still here to collect its prize. Because nothing has changed.

Except that it has.

Billie’s scythe remains. It falls, its owner gone, blade swinging down to the ground.

Dean catches it.

In one sweeping motion, before Cas or anyone else can react, he swings the weapon around and sinks the entire blade into the Empty, just as it begins to surge towards Cas.

This blade could kill Death itself with one little cut. Death, the old Death, had once said that this scythe could reap God Himself.

The Empty… stops. It freezes, still reaching out towards Cas, but goes no further.

It pulses.

Dean lets go of the scythe, steps back, towards a stunned Castiel, and grabs the angel’s trench coat in one hand without looking at him. His face is slack with shock as what he has just done. With fear that it won’t work.

The scythe turns black. A black so dark that it’s like a hole in the fabric of the world—just like the Empty.

The Empty pulses.

Cracks begin to spread, radiating from the sunken blade. The cracks seem to leak a faint, fragile light.

And then the Empty explodes.

…

Dean is alive.

He is pretty sure of this, at least. He doesn’t think his head would hurt so much, if he were dead. Unless Chuck thought it would be funny to send him back to Hell, or to Purgatory. Which is a distinct possibility.

So, perhaps pain doesn’t rule out death as much as it might for anyone else. But Dean really doesn’t think he is dead.

He hears a cough, from somewhere nearby. Dean opens his eyes.

He is lying on the floor of the bunker’s storage room, dust motes drifting in the air. His head pounds. His ears are ringing. He slowly sits up, feeling faintly punch-drunk.

The Empty is gone, as is Billie. The shelving units, lore, and supplies of the store room have all been blown back by the force of the explosion, and lie crumpled against the walls, bottles broken, precious artifacts crushed, pages strewn across the floor.

Dean is not alone in the room.

A body lies on its side beside him, clad in a trench coat, facing away from him.

“Cas?!” Dean asks loudly, his voice cracking.

Castiel groans. He shifts, and Dean feels relief—and anger, and so, so much more—wash over him. He rushes to Cas’s side and turns him onto his back, searching his face.

They’re alive. They’re both alive. Billie is gone, the Empty is gone, and they are both alive.

Cas blinks up at Dean from the floor, blue eyes wide. Dust and a bit of blood are streaked across his face. “Dean?”

“Cas,” Dean sighs. He looks around the demolished room.

“Are they… gone?” Cas asks. He seems oddly distant. Dean can relate.

“Yeah… yeah, I think so. Come on—get up.”

Dean and Cas both struggle to their feet and dust themselves off. Dean pats away a bit of dust from Cas’s lapel, and Cas watches the gesture, silent.

Then Dean jabs his finger into Cas’s chest, hard, and fixes him with a hard glare. Cas looks down at the finger, then stares back up at Dean, dumbfounded.

Dean’s voice shakes with anger. “Don’t you ever—ever—do something like that again! Do you hear me, damnit?”

Cas stares, his mouth slightly open.

“…Dean, I…”

“Did you really think I was going to let you do that? Just—just drop that on me, and—and die? How could you something like that to me? That is not okay, Cas!”

Cas continues to stare.

Dean stops, scoffs, and lowers his hand. He looks Cas over for a moment—living, breathing, Cas—thinking. And then he swallows, and nods. “We are not done talking about this,” he promises firmly.

And then, because today has gotten crazy enough, pulls the angel forward, and kisses him.

Dean releases the stunned angel a second later. “Now let’s go find Sam, and our kid.”

They still had a God to defeat.

...

Thank you for reading!

One additional tidbit I want to make clear: This alteration does, in my story, mean that Dean doesn't die on a piece of rebar. Cas goes with on the vampire hunt-the vampires do not, by the way, wear weird skull masks-and while Dean does get impaled, Cas is able to save him. And when Jack has time, he returns to visit his fathers. (Dean still has a dog, because Miracle was the best part of the episode.)

[ireadyabooks]

Books to Read After Watching Julie and the Phantoms

By Mackenzie Cutruzzula

First things first...

If you’re anything like me you haven’t been able to get the songs from Julie and the Phantoms out of your head. Whether you love music, a good ghost story, or a little bit of both, these books are on the edge of great.

Julie and the Phantoms: The Edge of Great by Micol Ostow (On Sale December 29)

After the passing of her mom, Julie has lost her passion for music and is on the verge of being kicked out of her performing arts high school. That is, until she makes the ultimate comeback with her new band, Julie and the Phantoms. There’s only one catch: all of her bandmates are ghosts. 

Back in the 1990s, Luke, Reggie, and Alex were on the cusp of rock stardom with their band, Sunset Curve, before an unfortunate encounter with Los Angeles street food brought their rock band dreams—and lives—to an end. Now, with Julie as their lead singer, the guys have a second chance to make it big and to help Julie discover the real power of music. 

This novel based on Season 1 of the hit Netflix series is told in alternating points of view and include a full-color photo insert and exclusive story content not seen on the show!

If you love the music of Julie and the Phantoms try these reads:

P.S. I Like You by Kasie West

While spacing out in Chemistry class, Lily scribbles some of her favorite song lyrics onto her desk. The next day, she finds that someone has continued the lyrics on the desk, and added a message to her. Soon, Lily and her anonymous pen pal are exchanging full-on letters -- sharing secrets, recommending bands, and opening up to each other. Lily realizes she's kind of falling for this letter writer. Only who is he? As Lily attempts to unravel the mystery, and juggle school, friends, crushes, and her crazy family, she discovers that matters of the heart can't always be spelled out...Kasie West brings irresistible wit, warmth, and sparkle to this swoon-worthy story of love showing up when you least expect it.

Turn It Up by Jen Calonita

The Nightingales are in a serious funk. Bradley Academy's all-girl a cappella group used to be the pride of the sunshine state, but the Nightingales have recently fallen out of harmony. Best friends and co-captains Lidia Sato and Sydney Marino haven't been speaking ever since a boy came between them. And not just any boy-none other than Griffin Mancini, the lead singer of Bradley Academy's smug all-boy a capella group, the Kingfishers.The Nightingales have no chance of making it to the big state final if their captains are at each other's throats. Their only hope is new girl Julianna Ramirez. But in addition to her serious pipes, she has some serious stage fright.The Nightingales will have to come together if they want to shine at the upcoming competition and restore the group to its former glory.

K-Pop Confidential by Stephen Lee

When Candace Park secretly enters a global audition held by the same music label that made the K-pop boy band SLK famous, the last thing she expects is to actually get a coveted spot in their trainee program. And convincing her strict parents to let her to go is all but impossible ... although it's nothing compared to what comes next. Under the strict supervision of her instructors at the label's headquarters in Seoul, Candace must perfect her performance skills to within an inch of her life, learn to speak Korean fluently, and navigate the complex hierarchies of her fellow trainees, all while following the strict rules of the industry. Rule number one? NO DATING, which becomes impossible to follow when she meets a dreamy boy trainee. And in the all-out battle to debut, Candace is in danger of planting herself in the middle of a scandal lighting up the K-pop fandom around the world.

Kill the Boy Band by Goldy Moldavsky

Just know from the start that it wasn't supposed to go like this. All we wanted was to get near them. That's why we got a room in the hotel where they were staying. We were not planning to kidnap one of them. Especially not the most useless one. But we had him-his room key, his cell phone, and his secrets. We were not planning on what happened next. We swear.

Muted by Tami Charles (On Sale February 2, 2021)

For seventeen-year-old Denver, music is everything. Writing, performing, and her ultimate goal: escaping her very small, very white hometown. So Denver is more than ready on the day she and her best friends Dali and Shak sing their way into the orbit of the biggest R&B star in the world, Sean "Mercury" Ellis. Merc gives them everything: parties, perks, wild nights -- plus hours and hours in the recording studio. Even the painful sacrifices and the lies the girls have to tell are all worth it. Until they're not. Denver begins to realize that she's trapped in Merc's world, struggling to hold on to her own voice. As the dream turns into a nightmare, she must make a choice: lose her big break, or get broken. Inspired by true events, Muted is a fearless exploration of the dark side of the music industry, the business of exploitation, how a girl's dreams can be used against her -- and what it takes to fight back.

Spin by Lamar Giles

When rising star Paris Secord (aka DJ ParSec) is found dead on her turntables, it sends the local music scene reeling. No one is feeling that grief more than her shunned pre-fame best friend, Kya, and ParSec's chief groupie, Fuse -- two sworn enemies who happened to be the ones who discovered her body. The police have few leads, and when the trail quickly turns cold, the authorities don't seem to be pushing too hard to investigate further. But nobody counted on Paris's deeply loyal fans, ParSec Nation, or the outrage that would drive Fuse and Kya to work together. As ParSec Nation takes to social media and the streets in their crusade for justice, Fuse and Kya start digging into Paris's past, stumbling across a deadly secret. With new info comes new motives. New suspects. And a fandom that will stop at nothing in their obsessive quest for answers, not even murder...

If you love the ghosts in Julie and the Phantoms and are looking for something a little spooky, try these reads:

City of Ghosts by Victoria Schwab

Ever since Cass almost drowned (okay, she did drown, but she doesn't like to think about it), she can pull back the Veil that separates the living from the dead . . . and enter the world of spirits. Her best friend is even a ghost. So things are already pretty strange. But they're about to get much stranger. When Cass's parents start hosting a TV show about the world's most haunted places, the family heads off to Edinburgh, Scotland. Here, graveyards, castles, and secret passageways teem with restless phantoms. And when Cass meets a girl who shares her "gift," she realizes how much she still has to learn about the Veil -- and herself. And she'll have to learn fast. The city of ghosts is more dangerous than she ever imagined.

All the Crooked Saints by Maggie Stiefvater

Any visitor to Bicho Raro, Colorado, is likely to find a landscape of dark saints, forbidden love, scientific dreams, miracle-mad owls, estranged affections, one or two orphans, and a sky full of watchful desert stars. At the heart of this place you will find the Soria family, who all have the ability to perform unusual miracles. And at the heart of this family are three cousins longing to change its future: Beatriz, the girl without feelings, who wants only to be free to examine her thoughts; Daniel, the Saint of Bicho Raro, who performs miracles for everyone but himself; and Joaquin, who spends his nights running a renegade radio station under the name Diablo Diablo. They are all looking for a miracle. But the miracles of Bicho Raro are never quite what you expect.

Cemetery Boys by Aiden Thomas

Bestowed by the ancient goddess of death, Yadriel and the gifted members of his Latinx community can see spirits: women have the power to heal bodies and souls, while men can release lost spirits to the afterlife. But Yadriel, a trans boy, has never been able to perform the tasks of the brujas - because he is a brujo. When his cousin suddenly dies, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is not his cousin. It's Julian Diaz, the resident bad boy of his high school, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.

The Ghost and the Goth by Stacey Kade

After a close encounter with a bus, Alona Dare goes from homecoming queen to Queen of the Dead. She’s stuck as a ghost in the land of the living with no sign of the big, bright light to take her to a better place. To make matters worse, the only person who might be able to help her is Will Killian, a total loser outcast. More than anything, Will wishes he didn’t have the rare ability to communicate with the dead, especially the former mean girl of Groundsboro High. He’s not filling out any volunteer forms to help her cross to the other side, though it would bring him some welcome peace and quiet. Can they get over their mutual distrust -- and quasi-attraction -- to work together? Readers of this spirited paranormal comedy won't want this odd couple to ever part.

[justkurotingz]

lucky to have him (spencer reid x reader)

this was my first request from one of my favorite people 🥺🥺 i absolutely love this request and hope i did it justice for your sake @ciarawriitesmarvel​ <333 it gets fluffy in the end, i promise 😭😭😭 

“I was wondering if you would write a little something where Spencer and the reader have both been captured by an unsub and both won't let the unsub hurt the other, so just protectiveness all round!”

so i got the unsub idea from AO3 LMAO although i forgot which fic it was so if anyone knows PLEASE tell me so i can credit them <333 the reader is a person of color :))

warning: little graphic descriptions of torture and some swearing

word count: 1.8K

you woke up with a dizzying groan, taking in the room you were in. it was dark with no windows and had a faint smell of mildew. almost like a basement. sitting up slowly, you blinked, glancing at the iron bars the separated your room from the other one, that was practically identical to yours.

the events of yesterday came rushing back to you in a flood. the unsub, bryan white, serpent hills, spence.. you gasped as you stood up, making your way over to the bars. “spence?” you called at the unmoving body lying on the ground. “spence.” you groaned, letting out a breath as his body twitched. “y/n...” he whispered, rolling over to face you.

“where are we?” “i think it’s bryan’s basement.” you whispered back, and he crawled over to you, checking your face for any injuries. “are you ok?” his eyes were cloudy with concern and you gently squeezed his hand through the bars. “i’m ok, are you?” he nodded and the two of you got to your feet, stretching out and observing every corner of the room.

“y/n and spencer! my two favorite people. i must admit, you two did a wonderful job going undercover. as you already know, interracial couples disgust me, i’m so glad you two are undercover feds. i won’t have to kill you after all, just inconvenience your day. which is fortunate because i really like you y/n. sadly you’re just a bit too dirty for a pure white male like me.” he chuckled.

the rage that filled your body subsided the second spence squeezed your hand. “it’s not worth getting mad. we can’t let him know we’re together, he’d kill us y/n. hotch must realize something’s wrong. they’ll come for us. we just have to hold on.” you nodded, holding onto him with all the strength you had left.

“bryan.” “hey y/n.” he smirked, walking towards your cell, unlocking the door and stepping in. in his hand was a old chess timer, blood stained around the buttons and your stomach dropped. the knife in his hand glinted underneath the bulb light he turned on.

“i’m sorry.” he said genuinely, then crouched next to you. “we’re going to play a little game. it’s simple, there’s only two rules. number one, the game has 5 rounds. the time you have to endure my torture each round goes up as you pass each round. i’ll be going back and forth between the two of you so you have time to heal.” he smirked, glancing at spence. “two, if you last longer than you have to in a round, the extra time will be shaved off the next one. we’ll start easy, the first round is 30 seconds.” he set up the clock and positioned it so you could press the button to stop your clock with ease.

“what are you going to do to her?” spence’s voice was calm, but you could hear the panicked undertones. “nothing much. yet.” your scream filled spence’s ears as he dug the knife into your arms. 

“stop! stop it! let me take it! DON’T HURT HER!” spence screamed, thrashing along the bars as you sobbed, blood pooling underneath your arm. the pain was torturous, but the sting of the knife returning to old wounds hurt more.

10....5......0... his clock stopped and he smiled in pleasure. “y/n come on. stay strong. you can do this, i’m so so proud of you.” spence encouraged you, and you knew he was crying. “you son of a bitch.” spence spat, eyes dark in anger.

“stop. please stop.” you pressed the button, panting hard. “it hurts.” you cried and spence reached out to squeeze your hand. “come on y/n. we’ll get through this, i’m so so proud of you.” “me too, you lasted a whole minute and ten. that’s a new high record.” bryan smirked at you and you moaned weakly, clutching your injured hand.

“onto pretty boy here...” “don’t hurt him. please don’t hurt him.” you begged, holding onto to bryan with the strength you had left. “do you have another idea?” he smirked down at you and you nodded. “please, use my extra time to skip round one for spence. just skip to round two.” you begged and he raised an eyebrow.

“that isn’t part of the rules sweetheart.” he teased and spence banged on the bars. “DO NOT LISTEN TO HER! I’LL DO MY ROUND, PLEASE DON’T HURT HER!” bryan looked at spence and back at you. “this is a very interesting position to be in right now. unfortunately, neither of you are in a position to beg, so i’d suggest you shut up. y/n, i’ll take you up on your suggestion... however round two for you is going to be a minute and a half instead of a minute. well, a minute and 20 seconds, using the remaining ten seconds of your time.”

“BRYAN PLEASE LET HER HAVE HER TIME! ILL GO THROUGH ROUND ONE!” “no can do spencie-boy.” bryan teased and spence sunk to the ground, reaching out to hold your hand. “oh y/n. please don’t try and save me. please don’t put yourself through this.” he begged and you gently traced a heart on his hand so bryan wouldn’t notice.

“spence i’d gladly take this for you. you’re my best friend.” bryan paused, looking between you and spence before deciding there was nothing more between you two. “onto round 2 y/n. i must say, you’re one of the most selfless people i know.” “y/n, you don’t have to do this.” spence begged and you shushed him. “i’m ready.”

you screamed as he started on your legs, humming as he carved. you thrashed, sobbing in and out of consciousness as your arm started to bleed as well. spence turned away, surely crying because he couldn’t watch. “spence. spence.” you begged, screaming as another round of pain ensured. you watched the clock tick by, seconds seeming like centuries.

but this time, you couldn’t endure any more, and as soon as time ran out on his clock, you pressed yours. “disappointing, but not surprised.” bryan withdrew the knife, cleaning it off on your body. “can’t save him anymore.” he leered at you, crossing over to spence’s cell as you lay there, breathing faintly.

you didn’t even realize when spence’s shouts of pain started but you weakly reached out to hold his hand. “fight it. don’t give in to the pain spence, don’t let him win.” you whispered, praying to god your team was going to rush in and save the day.

you couldn’t see spence’s clock, so bryan read aloud for you. “he’s hanging in there.” he said, slightly impressed. when spence finally gave in to the pain, he was at 1:45. “45 seconds overtime, that’ll come in handy for round three. both of you are so good at handling pain.” he hummed, cleaning off the knife and crossing back into your cell.

“please. please.” spence begged, his eyes closed and his hair matted with sweat and blood. “don’t hurt her. she can’t take anymore. I SAID DON’T HURT HER!” spence yelled, making bryan stop. “don’t tell me what to do.” his voice was low, deadly and you turned to spence, tears streaming past your ear. “i can take it. i can take it. i can- AH!” you screamed and spence shut his eyes tightly. “stop. please stop.” he repeated, and bryan paused. “actually...” he trailed off, scooping you up effortlessly and crossing over to spence’s cell, blood trailing behind himon the cement floor. “i want you to look in her eyes as she screams.” spence’s blood chilled, but he forced himself to look at you, squeezing your hand and brushing away your tears as you sobbed. “you’re so brave. you’re so brave y/n, you’re so brave.... stop, bryan STOP!” 

“she’s unconscious!” bryan’s upper lip curled in disgust and he threw the knife down in rage. “that little-” “do me. do me instead, please just don’t hurt her anymore. give her time to heal, if she dies right now it’ll just be me. what’s the fun in that? i’m willing to take her place. just please don’t hurt her.” spence’s voice cracked as he took in your pale, unmoving body, the blood and the sweat, your closed eyes, your labored breaths.

bryan’s eyes flashed. “you two really aren’t best friends are you? i should’ve known.” he spat at your feet and spence found the strength to get up. “you racist son of a bitch. she’s my entire world.” before bryan could answer, the door flew open with a bang. “FBI! bryan white, you’re under arrest....” hotch trailed off, taking in the scene. jj stifled a gasp as she rushed to your side, and morgan grabbed bryan, slamming him into the wall. “you bastard.” he hauled him off upstairs. emily and rossi ran to spence, supporting him up the stairs, and hotch lifted you up, following them as jj brought up the rear.

hours later, you woke up safe and comfortable in a hospital bed. “spence?” you murmured and the people around you smiled. “he’s in the other room. hotch, dave, and jj are with him.” emily squeezed your hand and you glanced at morgan comforting a sobbing garcia. “penelope. i’m ok.” you opened your arms, painfully aware of the stinging. “i was so worried.” she cried into your gown and you smiled, stroking her hair.

“what happened?” “you were in bad shape kid.” you focused on morgan and smiled weakly. “the doctors got you all patched up. pretty boy too.” “i just want to see spence.” emily laughed, patting your hand and getting up to call for your boyfriend. a few minutes later, he walked in, rushing to hug you. “you’re ok.” he whispered, kissing your temple. “you’re ok.” you brushed his hair back, wrapping your arms around your neck as he kissed you. “we’re ok angel. we’re going to get through this.” you nodded wordlessly, your forehead leaning against his. 

“i’m sorry.” he pulled back, eyebrows furrowed. “y/n you have nothing to apologize for.” “if i was not... you know....” you trailed off and spence’s face softened as he kissed his way up your arms. “please don’t ever apologize for having beautiful roots and such glowing skin. i love that you’re of color and that you teach me about cultures different from my own y/n. bryan is a racist bastard, we’re going to put this chapter behind in our lives and move on, ok? i’m right here, i’m not going anywhere.”

you fell asleep like that, a mess of tangled and throbbing limbs, his hands in your hair, stolen kisses and shared laughs keeping you up late. as you fell asleep, the thought that you were lucky to have spence struck you. and as you woke up in his arms, studying his sleeping face, you couldn’t agree more.

[softguks]

author + fic recs

below are a list of writers and my my fav fics of theirs, pls give them some love!! don’t forget to REBLOG, SEND A MESSAGE, OR LEAVE FEEDBACK. sometimes leaving a like isn’t quite enough, so leave a small comment telling them how much you loved it! it really makes their day.

@sketchguk TERESA, uGH my lovie, my world, my moon, my stars, the cause of my euphoria, my queen, the angel from the heavens. she is an incredible writer, and i’ve read all of her works probably thirty million times. they’re sweet, amazing, and definite must-reads! READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST, it’s worth it i promise 🥺

-> kiss the girl; worth the wait; lover to lean on; 10 muses

@sleepyjhs​ violet??? omg, her reactions, drabbles, and writings are so soft and lovely!! pls give her a read, send her some love, reblog her amazing works, and leave come comments! she’s such a sweet angel, and her blog is beautiful (so aesthetically pleasing)

@gukyi GUYI!! guys, this is a no-brainer. i’m sure you’ve read her fics, if not, go give her a read. her fics are absolutely amazing, incredible, and every positive word in the world. the amount of talent she pours into each piece of writing is incredible and phenomenal, she is literally one of the most talented writers on here. go send her some love if you haven’t already!

-> the millionaire & his lover; raspberry truffles; the courtship chronicles; if i told you; the underwear thief; the coffee shop contract

@jamaisjoons hi i love solaris, she owns my heart. anyways, she is a pretty-well known blog in my opinion, and totally deserves it! her writings are amazing, incredible, and i love them so much. her banners are super cute like her too 🥺 she’s the sweetest person, her fics are some of my go-to rereads and my all-time favorites. pls go flood her inbox with love, she’s an incredible angel.

-> faded love; the sea & the storm; love alive

@honeymoonjin​ guys sora is the most beautiful soul on here 🥺 i love her fics so much, they bring out the ugly tears, the soft feelings, the uwu hours, and emotions i didn’t know i had. i’ve read her entire masterlist probably a billion times because of how talented she is, like skskksksksk?? i don’t understand. go bombard her with love, adoration, and feedback for her lovely fics. she writes them so well, and they’re also hilarious to read!!

-> florezco; anpanman

@jungshookz​ CEE!! omg i love all of her fics. each and every single one of them is absolutely incredible. i love the style of her writing, i love the hilarious interactions, the tropes, and everything about her fics. she is one of my all-time favorite blogs that i’ve come across, please send her lots of love if you haven’t already!! she is so so talented and incredible, make sure to check out her drabbles and tags!! it’s always hilarious and so much fun to read her fics -- i cackle like a witCH--

-> cowabunga baby; caramel macchiato; gymrat jungkook; beneath the water; suit & tie; soccer coach jungkook; yoga instructor jungkook; ta! jimin; ballet teacher jimin (OMG MY FAV)

@junqkook hi yara is bomb guys. yara’s fics are oh-so-incredible and she’s one of the first blogs i came across in this fandom!! there’s something about the way she writes, the way her words seem to flow together so perfectly that’s incredible. really and truly, she is one of the sweetest people on here and is very very very talented. go give her some love. btw her banners for her fics and her navigation is super cute uwu.

-> rottenfolk; the young wolf; into the woods (series); la douleur exquise

@httpjeon DAISYYY, she’s amazing and i love her. anyways, daisy is the QUEEN of cute banners and headers. she’s so talented and everything on her masterlist is a masterpiece. the way she writes is so beautiful and her stories are amazing!! the detail, the *cough* smut *cough*, the descriptive scenes, and the characters are incredible! gold! amazing! wonderful! i’ve run out of words to describe how lovely they are, but please give her some (re)reads and reblogs!

-> bunny blues (series); lovebug; sehebon; club ardor (series)

@kinktae rosyyyyy is one of the sweetest people on here and im totally here for her friendship with daisy + nora + yara uw. they’re best friend goals. anyways, her fics are like watching movies. they are so detailed and well-written that it plays in your head. you can imagine each scene playing out as you read and they’re really amazing. pls go check them out and give them some love!

-> soliloquy; camellia (two-shot); bitchin’ (series); flesh & blood (series)

@taesthetes uwu, cat’s works are some of the most amazing ones i’ve ever read. they never fail to amaze me and are always guaranteed to bring out emotions. thy’re truly beautiful works of art, and are some definite must-reads! her blog is so lovely and pretty too!

-> let’s unfall in love; amour; hiraeth; her masterlist (just read everything guys it’s incredible)

@ughkive mo! mO! MO! mo is my lovie and an angel. she’s such a beautiful soul and has the heart of an angel. her writings are amazing and some you should definitely check out! the way she writes is beautiful and i love her style of writing, please go flood her mailbox with love and support! much love to you, bb!

-> broken cathedrals; heart strings; bucket list; habits

@gukgalore hi rayan is my intelligent, gorgeous, radiant, and stunning queen. she is the absolute sweetest and must be flooded with love and hugs. go check out the queen, i love her, the aesthetic & layout of her blog, and her writings very very much!! they are very amazing and worth the read! many of them make me emotional and i dont know how she’s so taleneted. pls give her love.

-> young; jungkook breaks your trust (drabble); jungkook lies (drabble); something new

@guksheart she is one of my fav blogs everrr. i truly adore all of her fics and have reread them millions of times. they’re absolutely incredible, and always leave me in awe or speechless because of the talent that’s poured into each writing. each fic is a work of art, a masterpiece, and a treasure. pls go check her out, give her some compliments on her pretty blog, her cute banners, and her amazing self! lots of must-reads all waiting on her masterlist. also,,, on a side note lol her titles are so cute and i love them with all of my heart!! uwu

->  close the distance; in twenty years time; cover me in blue; plans for wedding bands; sugar coated; victor’s game (series m.list)

@gukills POPPY! or tati, i love her so very much with all of my heart and my entire being. she’s gorgeous, radiant, bright, and an angel blessed to us from the heavens!! not only is she the sweetest, she’s so talented in both writing and art! her writings are amazing and something you should definitely check out! uwu her navigation is so cute as well, go give her some love.

-> every moment is valuable; broken glass; just out the window (two-shot)

@cupofteaguk​ omg omg hiiiii. LOL im sorry but traci’s blog is one of my favs!! she’s one of the first blogs i came across when first joining this fandom and is so incredibly talented. i’ve reread all of her fics millions of times and i love them so so much. they’re so cute, sweet, and hilarious. the way she writes is incredible and i love the tropes and cliche plots that she twists or tweaks to turn into masterpieces. each fic she’s written is gold and i’m always excited to see her pop up on my dash. her banners are all so adorable just like her blog. go give her some love!!

-> like flowers we bloom; the endless winter; breath of spring; hopeless hearts; take my hand (i love this one v much!)

@onherwings​​ hi jo, i adore you with all of my heart and being. jo is such a sweet and talented soul that i’m incredibly lucky and forever grateful to be friends with!! all of her fics are amazing and totally worth the read. her writing style, the descriptive scenes, the plots, the cute banners, the funny interactions, and the way she constructs the relationships as they blossom is beautiful. it feels like a breath of fresh air, walking through a meadow of clouds and stars, and the fuzzy, warm feeling you get from being with people you love. her fics are beautiful and so fun to read. flood her mailbox with love, asks, and support!!

-> mask; the better one; reasons to say i love you

@angelguk​​  she’s one of my favorite blogs ever (mwah!) her writings, her blog, her aesthetic, and her layout are absolutely gorgeous!! uwu they make me soft just looking at the pretty colors, matching themes, and accents. her writings are from another planet, omg, there aren’t enough words and emotions in the world to describe how utterly incredible they are. her writing style is just phenomenal and i love the way her words weave together like strands of silk into works of art. literally, hands down, one of the best writers i’ve come across on this site. i love everything about her blog and i’m sure she’s an even more amazing and beautiful person.

-> breakfast in bed; heartfelt; i wish i missed my ex; amour; phases

@cutaepatootie​​​ hi sara seems like such a lovely and sweet person so pls give her some love. ask about her day, tell her a joke, make her laugh, make her smile today. :D her writings are incredible. “A Fallen Bookmark on a Thursday Afternoon” hit so hard. i was tearing up, nearly balling my eyes out because of how realistic and genuine her fics feel. it sounds silly, but they feel like their own little worlds, waiting for you to get lost in. they bring out so many feelings and thoughts that i didn’t know i had, or haven’t really thought about. i think about it so often, and she’s one of the first blogs i came across. pls check out her fics and give her some reblogs!

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon; the blue princess and her red rose; animal (series); a brief story of time; touched by a fallen star

@minflix​​​ elle is so very lovely and sweet. she reminds me of flowers because of how sweet and beautiful she is, i hope she continues to blossom. she reminds me of the ocean because of how strong, majestic, and powerful her energy and soul are. her url is so clever, we stan an intellectual in this household!! her banners are amazing??? like??? what??? when i saw them i gasped and proceeded to stare at them in wonder. her fics are even better guys!! what a surprise, pls go read them. they’re masterpieces and i’ve reread them too many times to admit. but in all seriousness, she’s absolutely wonderful and i’m super lucky to know her. go give her some love, lots of love to the sweetest bean!!

break the ice; much better; spellbound; a lack of color; the city comes alive

@yourdelights​​ dee! deE! dEE! DEE! dee is such a talented and sweet soul. like??? she’s so sweet? you could get diabetes just from talking to her. nO seriously, she’s one of the friendliest, kindest, and nicest people on here. her fics are adorable and very funny as well as entertaining. her banners, her theme, and her navigation are so cute and stunning just like she is. go give her some love, send her some asks, start a conversation, make her smile, and be her friend!!

-> the best part of me is you; i’m sorry (drabble)

@diortae​​ hi guys, isabel is amazing, stunning, radiant, and a literal ball of sunshine. go send her some love, reblog her fics, and make her smile!! uwu she’s such a sweet person with an even sweeter personality. her fics are so cute, funny, and fascinating. pls pls pls, check out her most recent fic if you haven’t already “An Abundance of Mondays”. each fic is its own world and tale, with its own special traits and unique twists. i love her banners and her writing style very very much. i would give her flowers if i could.

-> an abundance of mondays; the spaces between; until the spring comes again

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- its been a while, I haven’t known how to carry the story forward, but recently had a burst of inspiration and wrote the next three chapters. Judging from the last chapter’s feedback, the events of this one isn’t going to be too satisfying.)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10  11  12  13

Warnings- Angst, angst and more angst

Chapter 14- Cut The Ropes And Let Me Fall

2 Months Later Filming had been through with Jackson’s yelling, “And that’s a wrap!” At the end of the last scene. The camera had stopped rolling, and wouldn’t again unless the need for re shoots arose and by the end of the week, Y/n and Keanu were carded to fly back to Los Angeles. But that wouldn’t be before a photo shoot for promotional pictures and the wrap party the night before their flights. 

By then, they’d managed to smoothen things out yet again, though, they hadn’t been left void of tension; every now and then, they’d reach a fork in the road, reminding them that things weren’t what they used to be. He’d say something a little too harsh or Y/n would get a bit too close, and for a few days, until one of them had decided that it was time to forget, they’d toe around each other, desperately avoiding any kind of serious talk. 

But, despite the awkwardness, things were surprisingly good too. The highs were higher than they used to be. Keanu had mostly forgone his suite, falling asleep next to Y/n most nights, and they would wake up tangled in each other’s embrace the next morning. It was nice, and was worth the bursts of tension, that served as tormenting punctuation.

“You look cute in this,” Keanu slowly sauntered towards Y/n in the now empty dressing room, immediately taking her in his arms, bending to nuzzle her cheek, "You should keep this blouse," he tugged on the fabric of the lace crop top, which generously boasted her cleavage, the color standing out on her skin.

"Maybe I'll ask if I can," Y/n giggled, looking at their reflections in the lengthy mirror mounted to the wall. Her manicured nails skimmed his forearms, clad in leather, leaning her head back on his shoulder. 

Quickly kissing her, Keanu let his touch invade the scalloped hem, inching upwards suggestively, "How long do we have before the shoot?" The mumbled inquisition was muffled as his ministrations traveled lower; behind her ear lobe, lower down her jaw and along the delicate column of her neck. 

"Not long enough," with wavering restraint, Y/n tried to untangle herself from Keanu's affectionate embrace. He'd still insisted on keeping their entanglement under wraps, hiding things from the press and their co workers. Of course, there'd been a few close calls; pictures taken displaying compromising positions and mummers on social media, but even then, their respective publicists had been able to spin the stories to suit their narratives. Y/n and Keanu were close, comfortable friends, who'd grown used to intimacy on set; there was nothing more between them. Each time, it had stung and Y/n couldn't help but feel like his dirty little secret during those periods. But alas, if she wanted him, she'd have to compromise. That was how relationships worked, right?

Even if what they shared was never really a relationship.

Wiggling and turning in his embrace, Y/n gently pushed on Keanu’s chest, biting half her lip as her eyes sparkled, clearly wanting things to continue, just as much as he did, “As much as I want to, we have maybe ten minutes-”

“I’m sure we can make that work,” Keanu leaned in, trying to kiss her again, “Besides, who cares if we're a little late huh? We’re the stars babygirl, they aren’t gonna start without us. Now come on,” dismissing her objecting, outstretched arms, Keanu closed the space, finding her lips in a breath-stealing, hungry kiss, already pawing as the button of her jeans.

“Is the door locked?” Breathless, Y/n spoke against her lips, smiling at how his beard scratched her face. Y/n was already in the process of finding the lapels of his jacket, ready to push it off his broad shoulders, when, answering her question instead of Keanu, was the sound of someone opening the door.

“Places in- '' Jackson stopped abruptly upon seeing them, and frazzled they instantly sprang apart. Immediately, Keanu folded his arms, backing away hastily to put some space between them while Y/n slumped against the edge of the counter, where various products had remained scattered. After months of hiding things, they’d gotten caught on their very last day on set. “I knew it!” Smirking defiantly, Jackson propped himself on the door-frame, “You two,” he pointed between them, “Are good actors, but terrible liars. Especially you,” he pointed accusingly to Keanu, who went all red in the cheeks, barely saved by his scruff covering half his face. 

“What?” Y/n croaked, her throat suddenly dry and her voice hoarse. She was fine with being discovered, but Keanu, she couldn’t tell what he’d do when they were alone. Maybe he’d decide that she wasn’t worth the risk. Maybe she should get to decide if he was worth another round of tears. “You knew?”

“Of course I knew,” maybe their resident mad genius wasn’t as mad and out of touch as they’d made him out to be. It was always the ones you didn’t suspect anyway. “Those little looks that you two share, the very realistic kisses. At first, I thought I’d struck a chemistry goldmine,” chuckling, Jackson shook his head, pushing up his glasses with his pointer, “But there was something about the way you hold her,” he turned to Keanu, his features softening, “I’d never seen in something,” making an elaborate gesture with his hands, Jackson searched the ceiling for the right word, “Manufactured.”

“I…..” She could tell he was flustered and uncomfortable, even from where she stood, almost two feet away. Keanu would have done everything to keep their so-called relationship in a box, away from the outside, away from something that would make it real.

Saving Keanu the trouble of having to find an excuse to deter his suspicions, Jackson's ability to be sociable left as quickly as it came, and in no time, he was back to his skittish, borderline intolerable self, “Well,” he clapped his hands dramatically, “I hope you two can keep up this momentum, it’ll be fantastic for press. We can tell the media that working together sparked your love and now, you’re inseparable, I’ll run in by the publicists,” already he was walking out of the room, expecting Y/n and Keanu to follow him, something they’d only caught up on when he’d already started down the long hall. Before they joined Jackson, Y/n tried to catch Keanu’s gaze, hoping to gauge his reaction, but he was actively avoiding her face, and that in itself was enough to tell her that he was not okay with what had gone down. 

“Your relationship is going to be a great selling point,” he continued, not caring for their objections, his mind already made up, “But anyways,” they’d just broken off onto the main floor, where things were already set up for the photo shoot, “We should get into the shoot, we’ve only got this guy for a couple hours, Gary had an emergency back home,” Jackson explained briskly, “But thankfully, Lucas here is an amazing photographer. Lucas!” Jackson snapped his fingers, beckoning over a tall, blonde figure.

When Y/n saw his face, she gasped, and she could have sworn that it was impossible for her jaw to not hit the floor. As if things couldn’t get worse. “It’s actually just…..” upon seeing her, he seemed just as shocked, though Y/n supposed that he should have had the upper hand, considering he should have known what movie he’d be doing the pictures for. “It’s just Luke,” he finished, shaking his head, looking bewildered, “Y/n.”

“Luke, you’re….” at a loss for words, Y/n couldn’t help but long for a spontaneous split in the earth to swallow her up and dump her straight into hell. At least there she wouldn’t have to deal with awkward situations with her current ‘sort of’ boyfriend and a ‘sort of ex-boyfriend’ that she’d never officially broken up with. “You’re doing the shoot?”

Clearing his throat, he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly as uncomfortable with it as she was, “I am, Y/n-”

“Well, lady and gents,” Jackson interrupted, apparently not noting the tension, “We’ve only got this place for a few more hours, so we should get started.”

“Yeah, okay,” Keanu was the one who’d spoken, and it was the first time since he’d been cut off by Jackson in the dressing in the dressing room that he’d even opened his mouth, two words said in a tone that was perfectly u readable, “Let’s do this,” without another word, he walked off in the direction of the set up, not even offering a backwards glance.

Y/n was about to break off from the group and do the same, when, just as Jackson moved away, Luke grabbed her arm in a loose grip, “Hey,” he offered her a faltering, faint smile, “Can we talk after?” 

His eyes were pleading, though, just as Y/n was going to tell him that they could, Jackson circled back, “Oh and Lucas,” he’d already completely forgotten, or perhaps he just wasn’t listening, Luke’s clarification of his name, “Get some some good ones of the happy couple.”

“Couple?” His gaze still penetrated Y/n’s sickened expression, though his brows now falling as hope drained from his face, “Right”

“Luke-”

“You know what?” He mustered up a brave face to hide his hurt, letting go of her arm and taking two steps back, “Never mind, let’s just get this done, okay?” And when she nodded, not really knowing how to remedy anything that had happened in the past thirty minutes, he turned away, “Great.”

Great?

No, it wasn’t great. Not really.

Music throbbed in his chest and the air was ignited by a buzz fueled by freely flowing alcohol and the relaxed, carefree demeanor of the cast and crew alike. Filming was finally over, they’d put in the hard work and they'd reap the rewards in about four or five months. He should have been enjoying the party like everyone else, but Keanu just couldn't.

So, instead, he'd gone out through the back of the club, lighting a cigarette between his lips and holding a half finished beer in his free hand. Since earlier that day, when Jackson had caught him and Y/n almost in the act, his mind had been bombarded with a flurry of thoughts. He was the one that had wanted what they had hidden, while simultaneously, Keanu was also the one making it glaringly obvious. That wasn't what he wanted; Y/n was making a fool of him, and fools got hurt. 

Keanu didn't want to get hurt.

Things had only gone even further downhill during the photo shoot and Keanu could tell that it was taking everything in Luke to not take a swing at him. Keanu couldn't blame him, if the roles were reversed he might have done the same. Y/n was……..absolutely astounding. She was breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly intelligent and had a one in a million personality. She worth punches. She was worth more than he could give. Because as hard as Keanu had tried to convince himself that they could work, he knew that he was just postponing the inevitable. He couldn't be with her forever, he wasn't the forever kind of man and her affections already ran deeper than his by far. 

He couldn't do that to her anymore.

The fun was over.

Taking a pull from his smoke, blowing out a white puff seconds later, Keanu barely turned when the heavy iron door behind him in the dark alley way dragged open with a definitive wail. He knew who it was without even looking, he could smell her perfume, clinging to her satin skin and the shimmery black, mini slip dress that she'd slid into before they left her hotel room. He'd had her in that dress, while it was bunched up over her stomach and she was pressed against the wall of the living room, just before they'd left for the party. If only Keanu had known it was the last time he'd lay hands on Y/n again, he might have savored it more.

"You've been out here for a while," he knew that she'd picked up on his pensive mood a while ago, and though he hadn't asked, and not had she told him, Keanu could tell that there was something weighing heavy on Y/n's mind.

"I wanted a cigarette," he huffed, blowing out another cloud, finally glancing her way when she came to stand beside him, staying a few inches away. "Shouldn't you be inside?"

"Yeah," she chortled halfheartedly, rolling her eyes, taking a punctuating sip from her red disposable cup, "Shouldn't you?"

"I told you-"

"I heard you before," when Y/n cut him off, Keanu could sense a new malice in her voice, and growing defensive, he wondered where it came from.

"What's your problem?" He rolled his eyes, taking one last drag from the stub before tossing it to the ground and putting it out with the toe of his worn brown boot.

As it seemed, Keanu wasn't the only one putting up unwarranted defenses that night, as Y/n shot back, "My problem?" Moving around so he'd be forced to look at her, Y/n licked her lips, shaking her head, "You're the one who's been icing his girlfriend out."

And just like that, just as he fired his last, shitty attempt of a defense mechanism, Keanu chuckled dryly, not even thinking as he spoke, "You're not my girlfriend." Though, the minute he caught his foot in his mouth, Keanu tried to clarify, "Fuck, that's not-"

But it was too late, it was already out there and Keanu's words had hit Y/n like a bullet to the chest, "What?" Her anger, chased with insurmountable hurt and swirling confusion flared, driving what came next, "That's not what you meant?" She mocked, trying to suppress a sniffle, "What did you mean, huh? Did you mean that I'm just some girl you're fucking cause its convenient? Or did you mean that you were still seeing were this is going, and so far, it's not going like I'm your girlfriend," she took a breath, gathering her thoughts, "Well newsflash Keanu, maybe that's a good thing, maybe I don't want to be your fucking girlfriend!"

Her words were angry, but he could see past it, the cracks in her exterior shining through to show her pain. The tears in her ears, the break in her throat. Yet still, he didn't sympathize. If they were going to be like that then it was every man for themselves. "Well maybe that's good!" He yelled, not caring if anyone would hear them over the music, "Cause this isn't working for me."

"This isn't working for you?" Y/n repeated incredulously, "It was working for today, when you wanted to fuck me over a makeup table. It was working for you when we fucked while the car was waiting for us downstairs, right before we came here. God you're so…..ugh!" Through with it, ready to just be alone with her hurt, Y/n tossed her cup at him, watching as it bounced off his chest, the alcohol soaking his front, "You know, everyone thinks you're such a nice guy, but really, you're just another asshole. No wonder you're alone."

"I-" But his argument was muted, for in just seconds, Y/n was gone through the door again, slamming it on her way in, leaving Keanu to curse at the cold air as he spun and tossed his bottle to the grimy wall, the smashing filling his ears. That was it, they were over, and on his terms too. He'd been the one to pick the fight, fan the flame. Keanu wanted that, he wanted to be done so he could move on without falling too deep. And for a while, he'd told himself it would be easy because really, he'd barely let Y/n scratch his surface. 

A breakup was what he wanted. But as he stood there, face hot and eyes stinging by surprise, Keanu couldn't quite decipher why it hurt so bad. Why his breath had gone so ragged, why tears were falling down his face. Why his heart felt like it was breaking. 

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​ @danceoftwowolves