#very proud of myself for not turning all my hard work to ash

[roaldseth]

So the fellows not over on the other site don't miss out. Everyone's up in arms about no Octopath Traveler II, so it's fashionable to get around to finally upload cosplay photos.

Photography : @ falling_cat_media (Instagram)

Editing : @roaldseth

[navibluebees]

Someone to be Proud of (Recom Quaritch x Female Human Reader) - Part 10

Please read before interacting.

Hi, friends. Seriously, thank you so much for your patience on this. I went away for a week in early February to visit schools with my partner. One of my grandparents passed early this month and it's just been a general funky mood all across the board. I ended up psyching myself out for this story. Will it be good enough? What if it doesn't line up with the future story? Is it even worth telling? And honestly, does any of that matter? Good enough is subjective anyway. It doesn't have to line up because that's literally the whole point of fanfiction: making it the way you want because the writers didn't. And any story is worth telling. So, if you're a creator and dealing with impostor syndrome and feeling like nobody wants to see your work, then just remember that someone does. Create your art and share bits of yourself with the world. It's so much more beautiful with you in it.

A shadow fell over you as you sat there with your arm around Spider. Neytiri analyzed you. “Why do you weep for a demon?”

Your mouth popped open as you turned to her, crouching on your knees. “He was more than that to me. He was.. everything. I don’t know who he was before. And I wasn’t prepared for who he became, but in the middle of that when he was reborn.. He was mine. He was.. I thought he was good.”

Neytiri scoffed, looking down her nose at you. “He has always been a demon. He was a demon until he died. He deserved his death.”

Your face tensed as you stood, not daring to look away from her intense eyes. “He did not deserve what he was made into. He had his own choices, but so much was foisted upon him. He could have been so much more if given the chance.”

You felt a tugging at your elbow, Spider pulling you away from the tall woman who had begun to bare her teeth. “He killed my son. He deserved everything he got. You mourn a monster.”

You flinched away, following after Spider. “I know,” you whispered.

~~

The ash people were very literal in their appearance. Their skin a dusky blue, darkened even more by the lines of soot smudged across their cheeks. They looked on curiously, some even hostilely, reaching out to grab Miles’ tail. He whipped, lunging toward them before being yanked back by the Na’vi guiding him. Cruel laughter followed him down the path.

He subtly tested the strength of his bonds and growled in frustration when they didn’t give an inch. 

“Be still! You will not be released until she approves.”

Miles stopped his motions and followed sullenly, thinking of all the violent things he’d like to be doing to his guide when they stopped short. A fire was ahead. Many tribe members sat in a circle and ate together, chatting boisterously. Everything halted when Miles appeared at the edge. He was shoved forward and then yanked around the fire. His guide shoved him to his knees.

“The dreamwalker, my Olo'eykte.” They bowed their head in deference and backed away slowly. 

The olo’eykte, known as Varang, scrutinized him. Her eyes were sharp as blades, slicing him open to see his mangled soul. The corner of her mouth quirked up. “Welcome, Dreamwalker. It is my first time meeting one of your kind, although the stories are known among all clans of Pandora. I hope we have been gracious hosts so far.” She snorted and popped a small berry into her mouth. Miles worked hard to keep his features smooth. “Ah, no response? Soon enough. Cut him loose.”

“But, my lady-“

“Must I repeat myself? Cut. His. Bonds.”

Reluctantly, the warrior stepped forward and sliced through the vines, nicking Miles’ wrist in the process. He hissed and rubbed his wrists carefully. Varang gestured for him to sit at her feet. She was lounging across a slab of rock, on top of a woven blanket. He carefully sat and with another wave of her hand, a small plate made of stone was thrust into his hands. He eyed the meal curiously. A cackle startled him out of his analysis.

“It won’t bite, Dreamwalker. Eat.”

He bit down through the tough skin, finding a juicy inner core. Upon further inspection, it looked to be the Pandoran version of a lizard. She noticed his quiet inspection and said, “We have many of these creatures around our home. They are hard to catch, but sometimes we happen upon a nest. Delicious!”

He nodded along, taking in her appearance and the guards flanking her. “Pretty good,” he mumbled. “How’s your English so good?”

Her smiled widened. “I have not met a dreamwalker, but some of my clan have. They went away for a time, hovering near the humans and speaking with the Omaticaya, to learn through them. Then, they came back and taught many of us.” Her face hardened. “We know a war is coming. Knowing our enemy’s language can provide an immense advantage for the conflict. You will provide the rest of what we need.”

He jerked back in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

She narrowed her eyes in annoyance. “I am speaking of your knowledge, Dreamwalker. You will share it with us, or face your death.”

He scoffed. “My death? You’re kidding me.”

She growled and gripped the sides of her seat, digging her fingers in as she leaned forward to put her face next to his. “You will not be laughing when the heat boils your body from the inside out, when it tears you apart while you slowly turn into nothing.”

His ears had flattened and his tail flicked in anger.

She noted his reaction and relaxed back. “Also, we have heard tales of a great battle between the great Toruk Macto and the humans. He fought alongside the Metkayina people who defended their Tulkun family. While we care not for them, we have heard rumors of a human boy that clings to Jakesuli and his family. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about him, would you?”

Miles chest heated up and his body rumbled with the threat to Spider.

Varang threw her head back, laughing again. “You are very easy to read, Dreamwalker.”

“I’m not. I’m not a dreamwalker. This is my body and my memories were put in when I was created.”

She looked mildly surprised at the new revelation. “Interesting. But no matter. Your knowledge is still the same.”

“Why in the hell do you even need to know anything? Why not just stay in this place away from everyone and let them fight between themselves?”

Her hand flew forward and hit him upside the head. “Are you stupid? They have not come for us, but your former kind are made of greed. It will never be enough. They will come soon enough. This is our home. Many in our clan have fought and died to keep this land. I will never give it up. Not as long as I live.”

~~~

You had followed Spider to the Sully marui to collect the older batteries for his mask. Sitting quietly on a woven piece outside of the home, you kicked your feet lightly in the water. A head popped out of the water, startling you enough to jump back. It was elongated and followed by two other heads attached to the bodies on the back. Kiri and the youngest Sully, Tuk, burst into a fit of giggles. You huffed playfully and the creature known as an ilu plopped its wet head in your lap, nuzzling against your stomach. Your hands grazed over its slick head and you smiled as it purred. 

Tuk reached around Kiri to hand you a fish. You tossed it up in the air and it flopped back to catch it, throwing the girls into the water. They came back up with the ilu circling them and chirping out a laughing sound. They pulled themselves up to where you and Spider were resting. Kiri smiled at you kindly and squeezed your hand. “Thanks for helping me talk to mom. I miss her so much.”

You nodded and patted hers with yours. “I’m sure she loves to hear your voice. When we get back in a few days, I can call so you can talk to her again.”

Kiri’s eyes brightened as she nodded eagerly. You felt a whisper of air right against your ear and turned slowly, coming face to face with Tuk’s bright eyes. With a yelp, you jumped back, leaning into Spider and Kiri. They both cackled and Kiri tried to chastise Tuk amidst the laughter, but couldn’t manage.

Tuk’s face got a bit serious. “Mama says you were friends with the bad man.”

Your heart clenched and you heard Spider start to speak, but you silenced him with a hand on his knee. “I did know the bad man. Yes, we were friends. But then, I saw what he did to you guys. To your family. And now we aren’t friends anymore.” Tears slipped down your cheeks and as you sniffled, you ducked your head.

A hand patted your head softly. “I’m sorry,” Tuk whispered. “I would be sad if I found out my friend wasn’t a nice person.” 

You turned to the young child, a veil of darkness hovering behind her eyes. “You are so kind, Tuk.”

Her face was sorrowful and you hesitantly reached out to rub a hand on her shoulder. She slumped against your touch and curled up beside you, putting her head in your lap. You looked closely at the small beads and shells in her hair and she sighed quietly at the gentle touch. Her arms curled around her knees, holding her body tight and your chest ached for the pain of this child. Spider leaned against Kiri and your head rested back against the walkway. A few moments later, you were all asleep, reassured by the touch of another person.

A while later, you were scooped up in someone’s arms. Grumbling you squirmed a bit, but settled when you heard Ka’ani whispering to you. A smile lit his voice as he told you it was time to go back. He lifted you carefully onto his ikran and you were awake long enough to hold on so he could hop up and surround you with his body. You settled in for the long ride back to your new home.

***

Taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @mechformers @nuttyrebelflower @ikranwings

[matenrou-fan]

I've been such a fan of your work and I'm so so so excited your requests are open again! And that you write OM, too! I'm honestly torn on what to request because Hitoya is my lawyer husband (I have a commission done of him and my OC Nana) but Beel is my himbo husband.

Well, I'll let you pick. Something fluffy and NSFW would be lovely. After reader/OC had a long day and they pamper her? 💕🙏 I look forward to it and I hope you have fun with the next bunch of drafts!

Hitoya pamper his fem! s/o after a long day

ahhh hiii sweeeeetiiiie!!! thank you very much for your kind words, it warms my soul..! ^^ here, I hope you will enjoy this one work too!

femreader, fluff, fingering (receiving), sex in bath;; 2553 words;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

Ah.. such a hard, long day, indeed. You almost can't feel your own legs as you walk home, loud thrumming in your ears makes your head empty and aching, and all you can't concrete in was a good hot bath and cuddles with your husband, while you two bending each other's ears, complaining about your stupid jobs.

The door of your house crack as you get in, surprised to see lights being on. Can't it be..?

"Welcome home.." - Hitoya, your husband, walks in the corridor to meet you, already in home clothes and a cup of coffee in his arm.

"Good evening.." - A deep sigh breaks from your lips as you take off your jacket and get closer to him with a small chuckle. - "I'm the one who's late today, am I? When was the last time you got home earlier than me? It's so unusual.."

"I don't remember myself." - he chuckled too, cupping your cheek with his hand. Ah, such contrasts between his warm skin and your cold from street one makes shiver run down your neck. - "Have a rough day today?"

That's why you love him. Because, despite his grumpy cold demeanor, Hitoya always was so attentive to your needs, reading you like an open book even when you tried to hide some of your emotions. His gray eyes were serious but gentle, as he looked at your face with understanding in his pale gaze. And you can't help but freeze for a moment, mesmerized by his beauty - his ash brown hair was already uncoiled, framing his pale, tired face with messy locks. These light wrinkles and dark circles just gave him an air of consummate elegance, making your husband even more charming in your eyes. And of course he noticed your fascinated face too.

"Hey, you hear me?" - Hitoya smirks and pinch your cheek, bringing you back from the clouds to earth. - "Come on, it's cold here, let's get in the kitchen, I have something to show you.."

"Ahh, wait, I can't even walk normally, I'm so drained.." - you sigh a little, knowing damn well he would never get annoyed with you and your small tantrums.

But when you change into your comfy home clothes too and walk in the kitchen, you get silent, greeted with a bunch of dishes on the table, still warm and juicy, and the smell was so delicious.. You turn to look at your husband just to see his proud smirk.

"When I got home and didn't find you I thought to order some delivery.. Yet then I thought that I didn't spoil you for a really long time, didn't I?"

"Ah, Hitoya.. How sweet you can be sometimes.." - you mumble with a small smile, quickly sitting at the table, as your mouth is already watering from all these delicious meals.. Oh, he even cooks your favorite food, along with his favorite ham and cheese casserole.

"Stop with this lovey-dovey stuff.." - as usual, he scoffs, acting tough towards any softness, yet smirks after. - "At least leave it all for later, as I have more plans for our evening tonight.."

"Oh? You know how to intrigue.." - you can't help but giggle a little, wondering what exactly your husband hides behind this grin.

"And you don't know how to not fall under my intrigues, aren't you?" - now this smirk got even wider as he sat in front of you. - "So be a good girl and enjoy my treatment today..

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Hitoya knows how to cook, and how to cook well, enjoying his hard work with you. Small talks quickly relax your mind and your body as you listen to his day and then venting about yours. Such a good, peaceful evening together, you adore this side of your husband so much, as he gets softer, not ashamed to tell what annoys him today at work or even makes him sad. And, of course, listening to your problems with such attention and care, giving your small advice or just cursing your stupid boss together with you.

"Mm.. that was wonderful.." - you sigh happily, leaning back on your chair with a pleasant smile. You eat so good yet you don't have this pressure in your stomach that you're full, just perfect.

The same smile plays on Hitoya's lips too as he quickly cleans the table, shushing you when you try to help him. You can't help but chuckle, as it was kinda amusing - the way he showed his love with a mix of light sullenness sometimes.

Well, as he tells you to not worry about dishes, you walk in the living room, slumped into the couch with a small yawn. You don't even know what feels better - the delicious dinner itself or the fact that your dearest husband makes it just for you, probably being no less tired than you are. And now even taking care of all dirty plates too, while you luxuriate among soft pillows.

"Mm? You didn't fall asleep?" - his sudden voice behind your back makes you jump a little and then you giggle:

"How can I? I remember your words about something more.." - you murmur as Hitoya places his hand on your head, messing with your hairstyle.

"Oh yes.. Sit here for a little bit more, okay?" - he leans closer and kisses your forehead, before leaving you again. What kind of surprise did he prepare for you? You didn't know, yet also didn't mind waiting a little, resting in the softness of the couch, kinda understanding why he was surprised you didn't fall asleep - it was hard not to..

It didn't take long as your husband got back with a smile and bent over the back of the couch, tickling your shoulder. Soft giggle bursts from you as you get up, grasping his hand and pulling Hitoya closer into a quick but playful kiss.

"Come on, don't make me wait for too long.." - your whisper tickles his lips and he can't help but chuckle too, admiring this excitement in your eyes and the way you bite your lips, inpatient:

"Of course, darling. Everything is almost ready so let's go.." - he takes your hand and leads you through the corridor to the bathroom, and you don't believe your eyes - is this really your bath?!

In the dark, lit only by small candles, it looks like some magic room from fairytales, and the sweet citrus smell of an oil along with the airy clouds of a bubble bath makes it even better, as you can't look away, shocked.

"What? Was it worth the wait?" - A low whisper tickles your ear as Hitoya gets closer, hugging you from behind. As you turn back to face him, first that you notice was his playful smile, he was clearly amused by your reaction..

"Dear.. When did you manage to do this?" - your voice dropped to a whisper too, your hands run from his shoulders down his arms as you hug him back. You both lean closer to each other, touching noses and looking in eyes.

"Mm.. While cooking, another thought crossed my mind.." - his words tickle your skin, and the light feeling of his lips touching yours drive your mind to another dimension, makes you wonder how far care of your husband will go today. - "I thought that for the last few weeks we didn't get enough time to pay proper attention to each other, don't you think?"

With these words Hitoya just pushes your fantasies even further, as playful lips to lips tickles turn into a more deep and passionate kiss this time. Hands on your waist get more ardent too, reaching blindly down and playing with your shirttail. You both probably could just keep things like that but he suddenly pulled away, only a thread of saliva connected your lips now.

"We don't want to get too carried away, okay? Let's take things nice and slow today, I want to prolong it as much as we can.." - Hitoya whispers and steps back, throwing away his shirt and of course you don't need any requests to repeat after him, also undressing yourself slowly, revealing more of your skin to your husband and enjoying his gaze that didn't leave your body even for a second. As much as your eyes kept roaming around his figure, in this mesmerizing semi darkness muscles of his shoulders and chest looked so smooth and enormously prominent, making you forget about everything around once again.

"I just told you to not get too carried away, baby.." - his low chuckle along with a slap on your ass wakes you up, pulling a little gasp from your chest. Hitoya smirks and gets into the bath first before extending a hand to you.

"Sorry.. It's kinda hard when you look at me like that.." - you bite your lip, meeting his gaze, these always pale gray eyes get so dark now, only small reflections of candle's light sparkle in this depth of lust.

Water was warm enough to make shivers run through your body, but not too hot to melt you right in place and raise your blood pressure to the point your minds get dizzy. There's other things that will bring you to this point..

You leaned back, pressing yourself to the wet and soft chest of your lover with a trembling sigh, relaxing your muscles. Despite all you can think right now was this intimacy between his body and yours, you have to admit the bath itself was also really good - unctuous water on your skin feels so nice, and smell of oil along with faint gleam of candles' light on water surface gets you in some romantical, sensitive mood.

"So my gaze was enough for you?" - the way his whisper tickles the nape of your neck makes another small sigh escape your lips. - "How cute.."

Oh of course, what would Hitoya do without his favorite teases? Even in such a smooth atmosphere he wanted to play with you a little, wanting to know how you would react to something more than gaze, maybe for some touch..? As his hands quickly wrapped around your waist for a few moments, holding you suffocatingly close to him, to the point where your ass pressed against his half hard dick. Your mewl makes the corner of his lips lift even more as Hitoya gets more bold, moving to your thighs and squeezes it under water.

Oh, how amusing it is, to watch you slowly melting under his hands, as he tickles your inner thighs with his fingertip, another arm cupping your breast, twiddling your nipple.. And you can't even return the favor and tease him back, only grasping his knees, whining. All you can do is just rub your hips against his crotch, pulling low groans from your husband.

And he can go like that for a long time, just mocking you with slow drags of his fingers on your labia, with sweet teases in your ears about how quickly you fall for it, fall for his games and teases, get so aroused when he doesn't even do much..

"Hitoya.. stop with your games.." - a whine bursts from your trembling lips as you pinch his leg in anticipation, just to hear another laugh from him:

"How can I? You sound too cute when whining like that.."

"Oh, that's it? You don't want to try to make me sound more.. pleased?" - you chuckle, pressing yourself to him again as you can feel how his dick starts twitching more, rubbing against your back.

"So you give me a challenge now?" - he leaned closer to kiss your temple, before finally moving his hand further, pressing your throbbing clit then caressing your folds.

Closing your eyes, you whine, as the first wave of goosebumps washes over you after the long - awaited touch to your pulsing core. As your husband, he knows by heart all your sensitive spots, and if you decided to goad him like that then now be prepared that he will only abuse these weaknesses, quickly turning you into a squirming moaning mess. Your loud whines and small whimpers under breath lead Hitoya in the right path for your delight, as he changes his pace and angles just to hear more shameful sounds from you.

Tight grasp of your trembling hand on his forearm, shaky hips that keep moving forward his finger with every thrust on your clit, weak voice of yours.. A beautiful masterpiece just for your husband to enjoy. He bit his lips, feeling the aching throb of his dick, as he kept grinding against your spine. His own hand that now slowly sinks inside you, stretching your walls, also starts trembling a little. This nagging urge started burning in his chest more, and Hitoya leaned closer, nibbling on your neck, hiding his groans in your skin.

Your legs spread more on its own when he hit your sweet spot inside, and you can't help but almost scratch his arms with your nails, drowning more and more in pleasure. Tossing back your head, you stop controlling your voice and body, calling your husband's name again and again, so desperate and needy.. Any thoughts fade away as you completely give way to your feelings, almost riding his fingers now, gyrating and bouncing on it.

"Hitoya.. I'm so close.." - your strength was only enough for a few seconds before your words turned into another whine. The pushing knot in your abdomen gets so tight, you can't think about anything else but your burning walls that clench around his hand, sucking his fingers more inside.

Hitoya didn't answer but sped up, thrusting in and out at just the perfect pace, making you lose the last piece of your sanity. His free hand moves to your waist, grasping on it so you would squirm too much when your orgasm hits you. And very on time - just a few moments and you moan loudly, suddenly squeezing your thighs together and locking his arm between it, your walls frozen around his fingers tightly as you came hard, with mind blank and whole body empty as all your feelings concentrate on your womanhood.

You collapse on your husband's chest, panting and whining. His hand didn't leave your body, caressing it more gently now as he helped you calm down, yet you can feel how hard his dick pushing your lower back, and his breath so heavily..

"Mm.. I think you sound pleasant enough right now.." - Hitoya mumbled with a light chuckle before lifting you and turned face to face with him. Now his cock rests against your tummy, hot glans tickling your skin. - "What about let me have some fun too…?"

"Right here?" - you raise your eyebrows with a smirk, hands playfully running on his chest and shoulders as you get lower and touch his hard cock.

"It didn't bothers you few minutes back so what the problem now?" - he murmurs, getting more tense under your touches.

"No, nothing, dear.." - leaning closer, you pull him into a kiss, tickling his lips with your tongue. You feel so refreshed and playful now. - "But it means it's my turn to play with you, no?"

"Oh, and I thought to spoil you a little bit more.." - Hitoya grasps your waist, rubbing his crotch against yours. - "Why don't you just relax and let me take more care of you today, darling..?"

[sailoryooons]

2022 Recap

Thank you @jjkeverlast for tagging me. This seemed like a ton of fun and was pretty nostalgic for me to go through! I've written roughly 400k this year which seems absolutely insane to me, and it all started with Mixtape back in very early April.

RULES:

post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

TOP FIVE WORKS I'M PROUD OF

Carved

The Iron Ring

Mine

Don’t Read Dead Languages

Bite Me, Jeon

TOP FOUR WIPS

↳ Everyone knows about the new girl attending the academy. Taehyung has heard whispers about her since before their first day of school - the lone survivor from the destruction of the academy in London. Your arrival brings a tidal wave of weird happenings and mysterious disappearances. Everyone thinks you're a curse. But Taehyung thinks there is something about you that doesn't quite meet the eye.

↳ You've spent your entire life training to become the elite dragon rider everyone knew you would be. But just as you being to reach heights you never imagined, you learn that your history books have lied about the war of Fire and Ash and the fall of the enemy kingdom just across the sea, and the real history behind the forbidden Alchemy of Dragons.

↳The world loves Hoseok. They love his music, they love his energy on stage, they love the way he dances. He is adored, celebrated. No one would suspect that Hoseok has another hobby on the side of the flashing lights and glittering parties. No one knows that in an underground circle where money can buy you anything, Hoseok goes by the name Jack. And Jack is a very good serial killer. Until he meets you.

Omega Zero (bannerless)

↳Namjoon has lived his entire life knowing his purpose as an alpha. He always knew that he would be trained, prepared, and groomed to enter the ORD - Omega Retirement Division. In a world where humans have perfected the human condition by its creation of the beta, alphas and omegas are no longer required. Now the only thing left for alphas to do is what they do best: hunt down the omegas and retire them. But when Namjoon is assigned to a mysterious case of one of the last, elusive omegas in the city, his world turns upside down. Because Namjoon remembers Jungkook, and he's not quite sure if he can do what society demands of him.

TOP THREE IMPROVEMENTS

Writing smut, I think. Honestly, I owe a ton of my smut development to reading endless amounts of @here2bbtstrash and @nabiolive who write some of the most fantastic, toe-curling smut that you can imagine. Practice makes perfect and reading a lot of their writing helps my skill a ton. 

World building. The Iron Ring was the first fantasy fic that I started on here, which is my preferred genre and it was a huge overall of world-building, establishing lore, and planning ahead and it is largely responsible for the dramatic increase in my ability to invent worlds and come up with ideas for other fics. 

Being more inclusive - my first few fics on here are rampant with too many descriptions or attributions to reader that aren’t broad enough to fit enough audiences, but as I’ve written more I have tried to really hone in on making my works as inclusive as possible, which really relies on leaving any physical part of reader as blank as possible. I’m not perfect, but I am working endlessly on that. 

TOP TWO RESOLUTIONS

Write a minimum of 200 words a day. It’s not a lot at all, but that way it will help slowly make progress every single day. 200 words is 100% doable, even on bad days so I really want to try this out. 

Read more fics from other writers. It’s so hard to balance reading and writing in this space. I am constantly churning out content and when I’m not, I am trying to give myself the mental grace and break that I honestly should do more often, which means I don’t read other writer’s works because it feels like too much for my brain to do at the time. Next year, though, I really want to dedicate a single day to reading others works, which is  totally stolen from @here2bbtstrash

ONE FAVORITE LINE I'VE WRITTEN

“You are beneath me in ways you cannot fathom.” - Carved, Chapter III

[luwe21]

Journey to Myself - A Sims 4 Story

Hi, I'm Ashley (she/her) I'm still in high school but I'm going to graduate soon. I am a cheerleader and I have a lot of friends. I live with my mom in Copperdale. I am trying to become famous and get out of this town and move to the new popular hotspot Ciudad Enamorada. I make videos and I stream. I also have two aunts who are my age. Also a lot of friends. But let me start at the beginning.

Well, my story is complicated. It took me a long time to feel comfortable in my own skin. I am out and learning to be proud and everyone knows it by now. I posted it publicly. My mom is proud of me. I was actually born as Ash and I was a boy. Well, at first. But as soon as I remembered, I wanted to be a girl. And as pretty as my other mother. Unfortunately, at the same time I became conscious, she died in a freak accident. It kind of broke my mom. And she focused on other things and kind of ignored me. I had a male nanny to raise me.

Every story starts with two mothers. I am kidding, but this is pretty normal for me. My parents' names are Emilia and Sophie Edmunds. I'm going to call my moms by their names from now on so you won't get confused. They met thanks to Cupid Corner. It wasn't love at first sight. Emilia loves love and is pansexual. She dated around and was in relationships with several people and she had fun in college, a lot of fun.

Emilia grew up poor. She lived with her parents in Evergreen Habor, and my grandparents, well, they are freegans. They had a container house and lived in a junkyard with no electricity. So Mom, I mean Emilia wasn't really up to date and she was very unpopular in college. People can be cruel. But then she met a guy who told her a way to make money and friends. And it worked.

Back to Emilia and Sophie. They fell in love pretty hard after that and after they both finished university they continued their relationship. They moved to Strangerville and really started investing in the plants. The business was booming. The students really loved the plants. They got married on their plantation and soon after decided to have a child through IVF treatment. And then I was born. Sophie named me Ash.

Life was good for a while. Well, for them. They were so busy running the business that I was left alone most of the time. And one of the rare vacations to beautiful Tartosa turned into a nightmare. Sophie drank some alcohol and smoked some plants and then she drowned in the hotel pool. It was terrible for Emilia. The love of her life gone. No chance of getting her back. She told me and of course I was sad too. I didn't understand why Sophia was gone. I can't really remember much, I was so little.

Mom decided to keep the family together. So we moved to Brindelton Bay and she found a rental for all three families. Oh I forgot to mention that grandma and granddad divorved and got new partners and even new siblings for Emilia. Pretty crazy. They were more my stepsiblings than my actual aunts.

When I look at the pictures, sometimes I don't feel good, like that's me. I grew up as a boy, but I was really a girl. I experimented with nail polish and clothes. And Emilia let me. I guess she felt bad about not being a "good mother".

Her cooking has never been the best. I kind of love this picture.

And mom started trying to be a better mom and our relationship got a lot better. She is my best friend now. Of course, it doesn't excuse the neglect of the earlier years, and I sometimes have problems controlling and managing my emotions and have problems with my weight because of that, but it's okay.

Of course, life hit hard again. Suddenly everyone around mom and me was dying. Well, not everyone, but a lot of people. It started with Maxie, my childhood dog. It was sad. I cried a lot and then Grandpa, Grandma, Grandpa's wife and her twins in freak accidents (they were only 18) and then suddenly and unexpectedly Grandma's husband. My Aunt Leni's father. She was adopted by her grandparents and moved away from Moonwood Mill, yes we have ancient werewolf blood in our family. All that remained of the once three-family household was my Aunt Stephanie.

Mom sold everything that was left, had everyone buried in Newcrest, and we moved to Copperdale. She thought it was best to be near a good high school so I could get a good education. I don't really care about school and would rather not study, but don't tell Mom.

My birthday came and I started my transition. First hormone therapy. And speech therapy. I was even allowed to wear a breast prosthesis before I was old enough for top and bottom surgery. It was a difficult and hard time, but I turned into a beautiful girl. My mom even gave me Sophie's Belongings (she never threw them away) and went shopping with me for everything I wanted. I even have my own floor in the new big house and I started posting videos about my transition and how to dress and do make up as a trans woman. I came out pretty early. To my mom at first (she wasn't surprised at all), to my followers and my aunts and basically everyone in high school. I posted it on all the social networks. I found friends who loved the real me. And I made the cheerleading squad. I got my first ever boyfriend. I am bisexual but I prefer boys. Life is good. I am so excited about my future. I know that I am strong and that I can overcome a lot. I am sure mom will accept my wish to become a celebrity too. And if not I do not really need her money. I make my own with videos and streams.

Thank you for reading and I am sure we speak again. Cheers, Ashley.

Squad Goals.

[hualianisms]

18 and 19 for the fic writers asks? :)

thank you for the questions! <3

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

Hua Cheng can't die, but it's like dying all over again. Once more, the raw, abject torment; once more, his love consuming him from the inside - the single weakness of a ghost king. Once more, his heart in his god's hands, Xie Lian his salvation and demise both - a grave of Hua Cheng’s own making.  He closes his eye, his heart a mess of jagged glass shards in his chest, a shipwreck already in motion between dead ribs.

this is from my fic of hua chengs pov of canon scenes, specifically the confession scene in the original chapter 177 of the webnovels. im proud of this line and this whole fic bc i put in my best writing into it and i like how the lines turned out

for this fic, i initially thought it would be hard to write hua cheng pov but it turned out not that hard actually. i just put myself in his shoes, tried to imagine i was an immortal being existing solely because of love whose mortal existence was suffering but who is made of eternal, undying devotion on a level that most mortals cannot comprehend or achieve. how i interpreted hc when writing this fic was that he's defined by both immense suffering and ineffable love.

in this particular line, he thinks xl would be too disgusted by him upon finding out hc harbours romantic & sexual feelings towards xl, and it's the most vulnerable hc has ever been. xl has always been everything to hc, both his salvation and ruin - he died for xl, and he exists bc of xl, so that's how this line came about. a reflection on how xl literally holds hc's ashes in his hands, having the power to both save hc and end hc, and hc wouldnt have it any other way, bc every single inch of his existence is entirely for xl, devoted entirely to xl. so in this fic i wanted to portray this immortal, eternal love that's beyond anything mortal, is instead a religion on its own, that exists on a scale that no mortal love or mere crush or infatuation can compare to

19. Who is the easiest/hardest character for you to write about? Why?

answered this before here, but basically easiest is feng xin, i love writing him. not just bc he's straightforward but also bc he loves swearing so much and has so much aries Angy/hotheaded energy that it's fun to write his vulgar, hyperbolic and indignant internal monologue and dialogue akshsh

for hardest in tgcf, im not sure, maybe jw or hx if i ever tried to write their pov but i haven't yet. of the tgcf charas whose povs ive written (xl,hc,fx,mq,qyz,yy,sqx), sometimes i actually struggle with xl pov, im not sure why. maybe it's bc his mbti and enneagram are very different from mine and im more used to writing introspective fics so i accidentally end up writing a xl who is more introverted than he actually is (in the novel he often downplays his own feelings to focus on hc's feelings or others' feelings instead). however when writing his pov of pining/thirsting for hc it's really easy kfjddj either way im working on improving my xl pov to be as in-character as possible

thanks again for the asks, have a neat day/night 🩷

(send me a number for the Behind the Scenes of Fic Writing Asks)

[highqueenofelfhame]

fafs, twenty-two

masterlist // rowaelin au // 4k words follow @highqueenofelfhamewrites​ and turn on post notifs for updates! i don’t do a tag list anymore because it’s too time consuming and doesn’t work half the time.  thank you to @punkassbookjockey26​ and @westofmoon​ for help with this one! ash had a great idea featured in here and katie is always my little editing faerie that makes my writing loads better.

AND WE’RE BACK! first things first i do not know when the next update will be, this wasn’t even supposed to happen anytime soon but i missed it and them and here we are. i wrote it so quickly it’s a little weird. i also had a major hiccup with google docs during the editing process so if you notice any extremely wonky typos or sentences, please dm me about it so i can fix it. i think i got it all but i’m unsure and nervous lol. also-- i can’t believe this fic is 86k words. it’s the longest thing i’ve ever written and i am just very proud of myself and this fic. i hope you guys are still excited and eager to read this story, and i hope you enjoy!

Waking up with Aelin’s body still tangled with his after a day of complete and utter ravishing was a luxury that Rowan never wanted to give up. Her golden hair was splayed across the pillow with her face turned toward him. The sunlight illuminated her body’s  soft curves and hard muscles, and he didn’t stop himself from exploring her skin with his fingertips. 

In sleep, her face was smooth and void of concern, worry, or anxiety. She looked so calm like this, and Rowan desperately wished he could bring that same sort of peace to her reality. Most of the time, when she was awake, when the facade of the swaggering assassin fell away, there was still a tightness in her jaw and a sharp coiling to her muscles. Like she was always on alert. Even when she was quick with her wit and sharp tongue, he knew that part of her was still always lying in wait. 

Rowan knew she’d never known a day of peace in her life. Maybe before everything had happened with her parents, but ever since she was a young girl, the explosion of chaos that wrecked every day had sharpened her into a blade. It was paranoia. It was spending her life peering around corners before she walked out because any number of people could have been waiting to take her down.

But when she was asleep, she looked younger. The romantic in him thought she looked like an angel, but he was sure if he voiced that out loud, she would adamantly disagree. Still, she was so beautiful. Any hour of the day, she was the most immaculate thing he had ever seen, and he loved her. 

Love. When he had said it yesterday, something had changed on her face. It wasn’t anything he could quite place— he was sure he saw relief, adoration, and love on her face. Yet, there had been tension to her mouth when he kissed her. It had confused him, but she had seemed so wholly blissful the rest of the day it had been easy to push from the forefront of his mind. It had been a day of cooking together, watching movies, and completely ignoring those movies to peel their clothes off and drown in the feeling of one another. They’d had yet another coupling before drifting off into deep sleep, and Rowan had muttered the words between her shoulder blades seconds before falling into oblivion. Aelin had squeezed his hand in response, but at no point yesterday had she said it out loud.

Not that he needed her to. Rowan saw her for everything that she was. He knew about lives she’d taken, about the blood that stained her soul. He knew that sick, fleshy slap had been Arobynn’s heart hitting the ground, seconds after Aelin had succeeded in cutting it from his chest. None of that scared him— Rowan knew he had no reason to fear the woman that shared his bed. Yesterday had been tangible proof of that, that she was willing to further darken her soul to keep him safe. He would do the same with no hesitation. Rowan would follow Aelin Galathynius to the ends of the earth if it meant being with her. 

But he sensed some hesitation. He could see it in her face and feel it in the way her hands had stuttered over his skin. Despite that, Rowan knew that she loved him. If he was to believe the feeling in his gut, she had felt that way for a while now. Perhaps he had just said those damned words too soon. 

His thoughts were brought to a pause as she roused from sleep, bare legs shifting against his. Beneath the sheets, her body arched as she chased away the stiffness in her limbs, toes pointing while they ran down his calf. It took a solid thirty seconds for her eyes to blink open, the morning sun casting brilliant light within them. Rowan couldn’t help himself and leaned down to press the softest of kisses to her mouth. 

“I need to shower,” she whispered, voice thick with sleep as the heel of her hands dug into her eyes. Rowan watched quietly, letting her drag her body awake while his knuckles brushed over her ribs. 

“I have to go into the office for a few hours. They have some questions for me that I’m sure they’ll have for you, too. But I told them to give you another day to rest.”

“You were kidnapped and drugged. I hardly need another day to decompress,” she countered, sitting up and reaching for his shirt at the edge of the bed. Rowan watched while she tugged it on and flipped her hair out from the collar. 

“It was a long day for you, too.”

“I can handle it.” Taught tension strung the words together as they hung between them. It was so close to coming across as snappy, and she seemed to realize it as she looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a tight smile. “But if you think I should wait until tomorrow, I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief flooding him to his toes. Instead of saying anything, Aelin merely hummed in response and disappeared into the bathroom. In truth, he’d wanted to talk with Lorcan first and see what was going on after his curt summons an hour ago. If anything negative was going to come of what had transpired over the last few days, Rowan wanted to know, and he wanted to be able to give Aelin any heads up that he could. 

As he heard the sounds of water thumping against the tile of the shower, Rowan stretched his own body out in his bed. Focusing on the ceiling fan above him, he flipped through the Rolodex of his memory to recount everything that had happened in the last few years the best that he could. 

Everything had started at the gala where  he’d first met Aelin. Their casual friendship came after, followed by a relationship that blossomed over several months. And when Sam had been killed, and he found Celaena Sardothien left for dead in a warehouse,the truth had slowly unraveled. Anger had been the first thing he’d felt, followed by betrayal. Losing the woman he’d known as Lilian had forced him through grief as if she’d died. 

And in a way, she had. But Rowan also knew that the woman he loved was one and the same. It was the same heart beating under his fingertips, the same lips he ached to kiss. Aelin had made more than one comment lately about burying Celaena Sardothien somewhere that no one could ever find her, paired with a sardonic laugh that made it sound like a joke. But some days, he couldn’t figure out if there was truth in that statement. If she was going to try to run to escape the terrors that she’d endured over the last few years. 

His fingers raked through his hair as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and made for his closet.He went through the motions of putting on a suit for work, his mind still caught up on Aelin. Despite knowing she wouldn’t run, there was still that fear there. Rowan just wasn’t sure what he was more scared of - the law catching up with her or the pain of being left behind. 

~*~

It wasn’t good. In fact, it was worse than terrible. He’d known it from the second he’d stepped into the conference room and noticed the files stacked on the tables. There had been no reason to read the labels. He already knew that every file was a different assassination that Aelin had committed. From what he could tell as he lowered into a seat, this was a meeting about what they could do to finally convict Celaena Sardothien. 

It had gotten worse as soon as Lorcan started talking. There had been no beating around the bush about what everyone wanted to happen. Maeve was even sitting in at the head of the table while everyone on Rowan’s team chimed in about different cases they had studied and what details could potentially be used for evidence against her. To his credit, Rowan managed to stay silent the majority of the meeting and only spoke when he was required.

But as soon as everyone had filed out and the door clicked shut, Lorcan had said the one thing Rowan had been hoping he wouldn’t ever hear.

“We want you to testify against her.” The sentence sent a powerful jolt of dread through his body, and his hands began to shake against his thighs. He curled them into tight fists and turned his gaze to the window. Rifthold was bustling beneath them, no one having a single clue that they wanted his testimony to lock away the love of his life.

“Look,” Lorcan said, leaning forward on his elbows. “I’ve let you carry out whatever dangerous, kinky fantasy you wanted to play with and kept my mouth shut about it. You’re an idiot if you think I don’t know where she stays most of the time or if I don’t see how you’ve started to look at her. But she’s a murderer. One that you put behind bars not too long ago. One that I know you’ve been getting closer to, and I thought she might tell you something that would help our case. That’s why I let it happen because we need whatever she tells you when she thinks she’s safe to really be able to put her away.”

“She doesn’t tell me anything useful about the case.” It was only partially a lie. He knew some of her secrets, some of her darkest and heavily guarded ones. But there was a lot of information that she never told him because it could be used against her. 

“I think we both know that’s bullshit. You’re playing house with her, for gods' sake. I know she’s told you at least one thing that would be useful, and you have to wake up at some point, Rowan. You aren’t doing yourself any favors by deluding yourself into thinking you can have a future with her. She’s a murderer. She’s a con artist. She’s a thief. She is just biding her time before she slits your throat in the middle of the night and—”

“That’s enough.” 

“When we call you to testify, you’ll be under oath. You can’t lie, and if you pull this same bullshit in court that you’re trying to pull with me right now, I will personally make sure you’re locked up for it.”

“Like a good friend,” he snarked, eyes hard as he looked back over at someone he had considered a friend at one point. Maybe not now. Not when he was hellbent on locking Aelin away by using his own words against him.

“If you want to ruin your own life, that’s on you. Don’t try to pin that on me.” Rowan’s jaw clenched while he stared at Lorcan, the darkness in his eyes having nothing to do with their color. “I’m not a fool. I know she was somehow linked to what happened to Elide, and you are insane if you think I’m going to let her walk around and do it again.” 

The temper he had been keeping on a tight leash was slipping. His nails were digging painfully into his palms as the vein in his forehead pulsed. If Lorcan was looking for his body language, he might notice how hard his heart was beating based on the throbbing of the artery in his neck. He might see the rigidity in Rowan’s jaw and the anger flaring in his green eyes. 

“Aelin didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Elide, and you are too clouded by your judgment to see a clear picture. By ignoring the facts, you aren’t protecting her. You’re using it as leverage to get a leg up in your career, so if you want to talk about who is putting Elide in danger, look in the mirror.” There was a sharpness to his tone that he couldn’t keep hidden, one that had Lorcan’s shoulders tensing as he clenched a pen in his fist. 

“You can tell me all you want that your little girlfriend didn’t try to kill my fiancée, but I don’t buy it. If it wasn’t directly by her hand, she had some part in it, and I will not let that happen again.” If Aelin knew what Lorcan was saying, the guilt would eat her alive. It already had been. He had seen her jolt awake in the middle of the night so many times from the deaths that fell on her head. He had spent too much time chasing away the nightmares, too much time holding her hand while she cried about what had happened to everyone she had ever loved.

“You protect what’s yours, and I’ll protect what’s mine.” Rowan couldn’t have said it more plainly if he tried. There was no surprise on Lorcan’s face, however. He merely sat back in his chair with a slight smirk pulling at his lips. When all was said and done, and Rowan looked back on the argument, he might not have a clue who had the upper hand. There was no telling from where he sat who had won.

“When this all falls apart and bites you in the ass, I can’t wait to see what you say about her in court.” 

Rowan said little else before leaving the conference room and exiting the building altogether. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to hit something, anything. He had half a mind to go back inside and lay Lorcan out on his ass for everything he’d insinuated about Aelin. Even the brick of the office building would satiate his need to hit something as hard as Lorcan’s head. 

His day really couldn’t get much worse than how it had gone so far, he decided. Aelin had seemed almost distant this morning, barely returning the kiss he gave her before he left his apartment. Now he was expected to plot behind her back, a move that would lock her away forever. Trying not to dwell on the verdict, he took his time walking to his car, flipping his keys over his finger to give his hands something to do. 

Life in prison wasn’t the worst her sentence could be. Rowan already knew that if she was found guilty, the penalty very well could be death. 

~*~

Undeserving. Aelin Galathynius was wholly undeserving of the way Rowan looked at her when she woke up. Despite her heart fluttering in her chest when she saw his expression, her veins had flooded with ice. It had been easier to pretend everything was fine yesterday after he’d uttered those words to her. It had been easy to keep dragging him back to bed to avoid talking, to avoid her own feelings bubbling to the surface. Feelings that she was doing her damnedest to keep choked down but wasn’t sure how much longer they could stay locked up. The warmth of his body pressing against hers had almost been enough to thaw out her bones. Yet when she woke up and saw that look on his face, a heavy weight had dropped back into the pit of her stomach. 

So after he left, she’d carefully packed all of her clothes into a small duffel bag she found in the top of Rowan’s closet. Every shirt she’d brought had been folded into tiny squares the same way she had folded away her feelings. 

It wasn’t that she didn’t love Rowan. She did. It was the most overwhelming thing she had ever felt, making every part of her body ache. Yet, she refused to let herself feel it. She refused to let him feel it while so much was on the line. It wasn’t just their hearts; it was everything. His life, his jobs, his friends, his soul. How much would Rowan compromise to keep her safe? How much would he wash down the drain to save her from the fate that awaited her? She had already lost everyone and everything that there was for her to lose, but she couldn’t be the reason why Rowan lost everything, too. Not when she was so undeserving of the love that radiated from him. 

Not when she had a ledger so crimson and bloody that it would never be clean. Her soul was marred with scars of every life she had ever taken. Those people had stopped breathing by her hands, and she would be damned if the same thing happened to him. He’d already been kidnapped because of her. She didn’t believe any of the bullshit Arobynn had spewed about her being a pawn. If anything, he was trying to make her hesitate long enough to let him live so she could dig for answers. 

But she knew Arobynn. Knew he was a liar. Knew everything he did and said was to save his own hide and prolong his useless life. She had seen him do it again and again, and when it came down to it, she wasn’t willing to let him say anything in his defense. If Rowan hadn’t said her name and pulled her from that blind rage, Aelin may have gone as far as to cut his tongue out just to ensure that even in whatever hell he burned for eternity in, he could never speak another word. 

No, everything had been because of her. All the pain her loved ones had felt while they bled out on the ground. Rowan kidnapped and drugged and left with bruises speckling his body. And she refused to let it go on any longer.

“What’s this?” Aelin’s eyes moved to the front door where Rowan now stood. She hadn’t even heard it open or close, so caught up in her plan to get out of there as quickly as possible. There was a rigidity to his body that had been mirrored in his tone. Compared to how Rowan had seemed yesterday and this morning, he looked like a wire ready to snap. Confusion weighed heavy between his brows, and the color seemed to be slipping from his cheeks.

“I’m going back to my apartment. Without an imminent threat, I don’t need to be here anymore.” It was the truth of the situation but not of her heart. She hoped her voice was steady and convincing enough. 

“Is everything okay?” He asked, kneeling before where she was perched on the end of his bed. The duffel bag was full beside her, and she didn’t miss how his eyes focused on it before looking back at her face. 

“Yep.”

“Aelin.”  So many emotions flickered through her name when it tumbled from his lips. Frustration and concern seemed to be the most obvious, perhaps a bit of anxiety. Exhaustion. Worry. Irritation. It was difficult to pick out which ones were aimed at her. For his sake, she forced herself to smile. 

“I just don’t want you to get in trouble with me being here all the time.”

“I don’t care about that.” A pang of sadness ricocheted through her body. That he truly didn’t care about the consequences of being with her because he thought he loved her. 

“I know you don’t, but I do,” she said simply. Her smile vanished as he gave a curt nod and rose to his feet with a sigh. The fingers that had spent hours memorizing every inch of her body only yesterday raked through his hair roughly. The meeting hadn’t gone well; she could tell without asking. 

“Do you want me to help you carry the bag back?” The words sounded tired and heavy, escaping on the end of a sigh. His body language told her he would rather not be having this conversation and the way he put more space between them to lean against the bathroom door made it even worse. 

“No. I could use a walk anyway.” She had told herself all day that it would be easier if he didn’t put up much of a fight and try to persuade her into staying. Still…when he didn’t object any further, it felt like a confirmation that maybe he hadn’t meant to say what he’d said yesterday. Maybe it had been a slip of the tongue while he was delirious from pleasure. 

It made it easier that he walked her to the door and just let her leave, but it didn’t hurt any less when he didn’t at least try to kiss her goodbye. 

~*~

“You look like shit,” was the first thing Nox said when Aelin opened the door to her tiny apartment. Eyes rolling, she let him in and scooped the takeout bags from his hand, heading for the couch. Pride and Prejudice played on the television while she dug into her container of Chinese takeout. Making himself at home, Nox kicked his shoes off by the door and soon dropped to sit beside her to eat his own dinner. “You wanna talk about it?”

“I want to eat my food and chase it with the bottle of rum you said you’d bring.” There was little inflection to her voice while she spoke around a mouthful of food. 

“Is this about the suit?”

“I literally just said that I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You actually didn’t answer my question; you deflected, which is kind of cowardly if you ask me. I didn’t think Celaena Sardothien was scared of anything, least of all a conversation about her feelings.” His words hit their mark, gnawing at her mind the way her teeth did her cheek. Turning them over in her mind, her eyes blurred on the meal in her hands. Celaena, perhaps, wasn’t scared of anything. She could walk into any situation and leave the victor, compartmentalizing any feelings she had into perfectly wrapped packages that she could assess at a later date. 

Aelin wasn't that person, though. These days her feelings were a hurricane ravaging her soul, and she couldn't escape them. Not anymore. 

When she had ripped Arobynn’s heart from his chest, she had expected to feel content. There was a peace she thought would crash over her in waves, like his heart no longer beating would soothe the darkest parts of her,soul. Instead, there had only been a sharp ringing in her ears while she held the fleshy mass in her hands, an emptiness that she had never felt before crushing in on all sides. It may as well have been her own death. Maybe that’s what it would take for her to feel at peace.

“Celaena.” Nox’s voice followed a jab to her shoulder with his finger, and she whipped her head around to look at him. “What is it? What’s wrong?” 

Her heart was beating so hard she could barely hear his voice. It almost sounded like she was underwater. It took several more thumps of her heart to focus on his face, and she didn’t realize that her cheeks were wet until he brushed at them with his thumb. Truthfully, she ached to tell someone, anyone, about the turmoil that ravaged her. But Rowan was the only person that knew her for everything that she was. He was the only person, save for Arobynn, that knew her true identity. And Rowan was the last person she could get herself to be fully honest with today. Nox didn’t know the truth; he was on a  need-to-know basis. There was just no accounting for how he might react if she told him everything, so instead of letting honest words tumble from her lips, she forced them up into a smile and shook her head. 

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

[smolcobie]

Hyunjae | Butterfly Effect

↪ Summary: After a dangerous fire, Hyunjae is unable to hide his feelings for you.

Word Count: 3,5k

Warnings: Suggestive | Fire | Friends To Lovers | Heavy Making Out

Genre: Hyunjae x Reader | HYUNJAE FIREFIGHTER AU | Female Reader

Dedicated to my fav deobi friend @santacruz-sand​ <3

Human beings are known for their daily mistakes. We used to say that every day we make a mistake, some don't make that much difference, others can change the course of your life, better known as the butterfly effect. Each action has its reaction, gradually shaping the path you will take in life.

Some say that this is fate, that no matter how much you try to escape, it will happen. Others prefer to believe that you create your own destiny. I didn't believe in any of these theories, in fact, I always preferred to think that it is easier to do your best every day than to be disappointed by the path you took because you thought that this was your destiny after all.

The greatest example that my theory was real, was seeing how my best friend lived. Every single day he left early, before the sun came up, and came back when it was night. Being a firefighter required perfection in his form, discipline, punctuality, courage to face his fears, and a lot of willingness to risk his own life for the benefit of society.

I watched him cautiously, analyzing his ways and manners. The way he slammed the gate hard to make sure it was locked, or how he sighed and gave a silly smile when he managed to do something he liked, but what I liked most was the way he struggled every day to cheer people's lives.

- ▪︎ -

"[NAME], do your best every day and no one will have the courage to speak ill of the way you live." He said with his red cheeks and heavy eyes from the soju he drank.

"What are you talking about? I live very well, you're the one who lives next to my house and keeps risking your life." I laughed, fixing up his fringe that was messy "You're already starting to get drunk, let's go home." I got up pulling on his shirt and he made a weeping face.

"[NAME], why are you so mean to me?" He said slyly and I lifted him up with all my strength hugging him around the waist "Hyunjae, come on, you need to rest." He sighed and started walking making a pout on his lips.

"Stop pouting, you know you need to rest. You work a lot and when you take a break you want to drink soju and philosophize about life with me." I commented while walking down the dark street.

"But you are my best friend, you have to listen to me." I laughed at his comment "If you paid me I could even quit my job, after all, listening to you is all I do." "That's why I love you." He chuckled and put his head on my shoulder as I opened the door to his house, after entering the password.

"I love you too, so go to sleep." I tossed him on the bed and he smiled happily hugging his soft pillow.

- ▪︎ -

It was almost always like this. Hyunjae coming to my house to vent about life, I laugh while making some cards to post on my Instagram and the company. Being a calligraphy artist was a happy part of my life, being able to decorate bookstores, houses, gifts was something that gave me the strength to live.

Hyunjae was such an essential part of my life, that I only realized when our mutual friend asked why we lived so close to each other. My first thought was to think that it would be easier to go out, have fun and talk. My second thought was that I was completely in love with him, and I didn't want to admit it.

It was complicated, an old love that I knew had no way out, but nothing was going to change because I couldn't find any nice guys. I lived with Hyunjae and I had already accepted my condition. Romance went from something I dreamed of as a teenager, to something I value as an adult, but not as much as my sanity.

It was easier to live with Hyunjae than having to go on blind dates with bizarre guys that our friend Sunwoo arranged (probably from the deep web). And I keep ignoring my feelings, being inspired by its way of life.

That day was more beautiful than usual. The sun was shining brightly, the sky was clear and blue, the traffic seemed calm and the weather was perfect for an outdoor meeting, perhaps a date in the park. The subway was surprisingly empty, although it was very early, and I was completely rested.

It seemed like the perfect working day. I had made many cards at the company, sent some orders by mail, and placed new orders for a major literature event that would take place at the company. Lunch was great and our boss was in a good mood telling stories from when she was in college.

The day had gone well, my colleagues finished their jobs earlier than expected so we were able to go out early and eat fried chicken in a new restaurant near the company. I returned home happy and completely shocked at how perfect my day had been.

I got home and changed my shoes. I took a relaxing bath while listening to the news of the day through my radio hanging from the bathroom sink.

"URGENT NEWS! THERE IS A FIRE IN A BUSINESS BUILDING LOCATED IN THE GANGNAM REGION, MANY ARE THREATENING TO JUMP THROUGH THE WINDOWS. SOURCES CONFIRM THAT THE FIRE STARTED BY THE BAD WIRING THAT HAS NOT BEEN CORRECTLY REPLACED. THE FIREFIGHTERS HAVE JUST ARRIVED AND ARE PREPARING TO RELEASE THE PLACE AND REMOVE SURVIVORS. ”

I immediately turned off the shower, drying myself quickly, putting on any clothes, and going to the living room to turn on the TV and see the news.

All the channels were talking about the fire. It even seemed ironic, as I had a great day, and now a building near my company was on fire, and I had to see desperate people on the TV screen.

My heart stopped and my eyes lit up when I recognized Hyunjae running away with a long sheet and other men helping him from afar. This was apparently what he was supposed to do, try to stay calm and help people in a tragedy that could cost their lives.

“FIREFIGHTERS MOBILIZED QUICKLY AND SURVIVORS ARE GETTING TO THE GROUND SAFELY. THE FIRE HAS BEEN CONTROLLED AND WE HAVE NO NEWS FROM ANY VICTIMS IN SERIOUS STATE UNTIL THE MOMENT-” The woman turned and the cameraman filmed Hyunjae leaving the scene with a woman unconscious in his arms “THIS YOUNG BRAVE MAN REMOVED THE LAST VICTIM FROM THE LOCATION. AMBULANCE HAS ARRIVED AND WILL TREAT EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY. ”

I closed my fists tightly, my mouth dried and my heart sped up. Hyunjae had entered that burning building, risking his life, to save another one.

The fire subsided until it was extinguished. Reporters were still talking about how the police were already investigating everything and how fortunately no lives were lost and the victims had only minor injuries. I sighed with relief and sent a message to Hyunjae, congratulating him, but mostly asking how he was doing.

Me:

[Are you okay? I just saw it all on TV, I'm so worried!]

[I am proud of you, you were amazing.]

[I hope you're all right, send a message when you see this.]

Received.

I sighed and laid down on my bed covering my eyes trying to remember that he was fine.

"Nothing happened."

"Hyunjae is fine. No need to worry."

I was trying to convince myself that he was fine, alive, and doing his job, but my heart couldn't calm down. I decided to take a light tranquilizer and lie down again.

Maybe he would answer me in the morning, I would wait patiently and everything would be fine.

I turned on some drama on TV while I was busy watching cute animals on Youtube to pass the time. After a few hours and having a quick nap, I was surprised by the ringing of my cell phone and saw that it was Hyunjae.

I got up and answered quickly.

“Hyunjae ?! Are you okay? Where are you?" I hurried over and felt him give a tired laugh on the other end of the phone.

“I'm outside your house, please open it for me. It's a little cold here. ” He made a little joke like he always does, maybe, trying to calm my worried mood.

"Okay, I'll be right back." I hung up the phone and ran out to the door.

I opened the door feeling my heart racing, my joints tingling from suddenly getting up and automatically everything calmed down when I saw his face.

He had his bangs glued to his forehead, his face was dirty with some ash. He still had his work uniform on and was holding some bandages probably bought from the pharmacy near our homes.

"I came for you to heal me." He gave a sarcastic smile as I felt relief wash over my entire body.

"Come on, staying in this serene is bad." I pulled him inside, locking the door and putting his usual shoe in the doorway.

"Unfortunately I bought anything I saw at the pharmacy, so I hope you help me, I'm deadly tired." He started talking quietly trying to hide how he was shaken by that night.

"Hyunjae... are you okay?" I asked seeing him sitting on a chair in the kitchen taking off his uniform, leaving only the standard white blouse and pants.

"Yeah." He said dryly biting his lip and looking away. The habit he made when he lied.

"Stop lying to me." I walked towards him crossing my arms “If you were really well, you would have gone home, answered on your cell phone, and slept in peace."

He sighed and looked at me with a look that made my whole body tremble. He looked scared, anxious, but mostly nervous about something.

"What is it?" I touched his cheek and he sighed, closing his eyes and leaning into my hand.

"I almost lost my mind today." He stood up scratching the back of his neck with a choked voice as if he were about to cry.

"What do you mean?" He looked at me so sincerely that I felt my heart soften.

"We were on the traffic patrol when we heard the call." He laughed, but it was sad. "When they said the address, and I realized it was on the same street as your job, I despaired."

My eyes flew open and he sat on the edge of the couch burying his fingers in his dirty, messy hair.

“I thought you could be there and I lost it. When I got there, all I could think about was you.” I approached and realized that in fact, his eyes were watery "I know I should be concerned with other people, but I could only think ‘What if it is her building? What if she is there? What if she is in danger? What if I can't save her?’ And I went into eternal despair.”

I felt my heart racing so fast it could come out of my mouth.

"I-I didn't care if other people were hurt, as long as you were fine..." He looked at me and I felt a huge urge to hold his face "And it scares me. The way I was afraid of losing you and I couldn't think rationally, on the professional side.”

I sat next to him listening to everything he had to say.

"Hyunjae, anyone would feel the same way, you don't have to feel guilty about it." I wiped away his tears and held his cheeks in the palm of my hands "I would have done the same, thinking about you all the time."

He gave a smile sniffing before holding my hands.

"But it's different this time." He said before looking into my eyes with an invisible force that made me nervous "I thought nothing would make sense if I didn't have you by my side."

I took a deep breath trying to follow his argument.

"I don't want to lose you." He whispered as if it were a forbidden confession "You are the most important person in the whole world to me." He touched my cheek with the palm of his hand "You know that, don't you?" He swallowed hard, leaning his forehead against mine.

I took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know Hyunjae, you are also the most special person for me." I said seeing how he had relaxed a little more "Now get up, you need to take a shower and put bandages on these cuts."

I stood up first, but I felt his hand close to my fist. He was taller than me, not so much, but his body was so strong that it made me feel small around him.

"What? Come on, you're very tired. ” I took the lead before I felt him pulling me again.

"[NAME]." He said hoarsely as I studied his face curiously.

Hyunjae was too different that night.

“What is it Hyunjae? Your face is dirty, you need to take a shower. ” I touched my hips trying to understand what he wanted.

Hyunjae approached pulling my wrist towards him before giving a kiss there.

"Come with me." He said making me petrified on the spot.

"W-WHAT?!" I asked nervously as I felt my heart pound so loudly that I was afraid he might hear "I-That's not funny, Hyunjae."

He released my fist and pulled me by the hip, staring deep into my eyes.

"I'm not kidding." I felt a shiver down my back when he admitted it wasn't a joke or a friend flirt "I got tired of pretending I don't feel anything for you."

I couldn't say anything, I was too shocked to reply.

“[NAME], you are the most important person to me and I don't want to live any longer having to treat you just like a best friend.” He touched my chin and raised my gaze to his “Please, be honest with me. Am I just a best friend to you? ”

I felt his gaze enter my soul and I knew I had no way to lie anymore, this was the only chance I would have to admit what I feel.

"No." I swallowed and stared at his mouth, which formed a small smile of satisfaction.

It was amazing the effect that Hyunjae had on me. Even if I wanted to run away, I wouldn't be able to lie because it was already obvious from the way I act.

"Great." I felt my stomach churn when I felt his left hand hold me tighter as his right landed on my cheek, making his thumb touch my chin, caressing it. "I hope you don't mind this."

"Mind wha—" I could barely finish the question and I felt his lips on mine.

I pulled away unintentionally from the shock and looked into his eyes that seemed to be staring at me with an indescribable fire. I swallowed and felt my heart racing as he just smirked sideways, as if he knew what I was thinking.

He approached me slowly, touching our noses and I closed my eyes feeling his breath warm my face. I felt my face heat up and my palms sweat when his lips brushed against mine again. I held on to his white blouse with the rest of my strength and waited for Hyunjae to close the distance that bothered me so much.

I felt his hand move and his fingers pulled my chin down, opening my mouth that was closed by shock. I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding and felt him laugh through his nose before wetting my bottom lip with his tongue lightly, kissing me gently.

I lifted my hands to his hair where I pulled slightly, feeling my back against the bathroom door. Hyunjae took a quick breath, trying desperately to open the bathroom door, trying not to break the kiss.

I opened my eyes after Hyunjae got rid of me, feeling my heart stop at the sight of him focused on trying to open the bathroom door. His face was flushed, but his ears seemed to burn at how red they were. His dark eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth was pink and inviting.

"Aish." Hyunjae said finally opening the bathroom making me smile slightly.

I held on to his blouse when I almost tripped over my own rug and Hyunjae grabbed my waist with his arm. He gave me a shy smile before leaning his body against mine, making me even more nervous.

His fingers played with the old buttons on my wool blouse. I held his neck intoxicating myself by his smell invading my senses. I felt a shiver down my spine when his fingers touched my skin gently, as if it were the most expensive porcelain that should be handled with care.

Hyunjae started the shower making me more and more nervous. He pushed me with some force making my back touch the tile on the cold wall of the bathroom. I felt his wet abdomen touching mine and tried to take his shirt off awkwardly making him laugh with amusement.

I looked into his eyes feeling my cheeks flush hard as I held his necklace in my hand. I smirked when I realized it was the gift I had given them for his last birthday. It was a sun necklace that was completed with another necklace, which was mine and was shaped like a moon.

I used to say that he was the sun that lit up my life and that reflected in me. I didn't expect him to wear it every day, because he is so critical of his clothes and his style, so I was surprised when I saw the jewel on his soft, wide collarbone.

"I-I like that necklace." He justified himself by making me smile as I felt my hair gradually get wet from the shower water.

I caressed his cheeks, removing all the dust and ashes from his face. He closed his eyes as I carefully wiped his face by raising my hands to his hair. My stomach churned when I kissed the corner of his jaw and he let out a long breath squeezing my waist.

"I like you." I confessed by kissing his neck, stroking his hair "Really."

"N-Noona." He said slyly in my ear making me smile. He only called me Noona when he was embarrassed "Don't do this to me."

"What?" I asked, acting like I didn't get his thoughts while looking at his beautiful body in front of me. I moved my hands down his chest feeling my whole body softening and looked him in the eyes hoping he understood the message I wanted to convey.

"You know." He responded by pinning me to the wall as he fiddled with the buttons on his pants, leaning his forehead against mine, chuckling through his nose.

I hugged him feeling slightly embarrassed when I felt him take off my bra and toss it on any floor in the bathroom. I closed my eyes tightly as I felt his lips kiss my neck slowly and lovingly.

"[NAME] ..." He sighed and kissed my collarbone "I-I know you like romantic guys, but the last thing I want to do now is to be patient and romantic with you."

I felt my whole body tremble and my thoughts were confused.

"I-Is this okay with you?" He asked suspiciously and I nodded, unable to speak, "Are you sure?"

I just answered him by kissing him again. He returned it immediately, deepening the kiss, holding me in his strong arms.

So, I closed my eyes and just let all those feelings accumulated from so long being satisfied without thinking about anything else.

- ▪︎ -

The truth was that love could come from anywhere, from a friendship for years, from a complete stranger, from a colleague at work or college. There are no limits to define where love should be born.

For Hyunjae and you, it was born out of years of extreme care. An affection that could not be limited by friendship, and by the undeniable attraction you felt for each other. There are people who spend years like this without the courage to declare themselves.

At that moment, a questioning is born within you. What if you hadn't declared yourself that night? What if you had run away? Hyunjae would probably walk away and leave your house feeling his heart broken. You weren't going to have the happy ending you wanted, and you could probably lose a precious friendship.

Ultimately, the butterfly effect has been proven and you should admit that your best 'mistake' was to have overcome your fear and admitted your senses. His best 'mistake' was sleeping with his best friend.

The question that remains is: Was that your destiny, or just the butterfly effect?

Ultimately, none of that mattered, because you both loved each other deeply.

▪︎

▪︎

MASTERLIST

[juniorgman187]

Something Borrowed, Something Blue (Reid Fic)

*MY GIF

Summary: Despite her engagement to someone else, Spencer grapples with the reality that he’s in love with SSA Reader when he sees her in her wedding dress.

A/N: I am so fucking proud of Spencer’s speech that I wrote.  Playlist: Till Forever Falls Apart by Ashe + FINNEAS This song hurts so good :,) Category: Fluffy happy ending! Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: possible unrequited love, soft angst  Word Count: 6k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

Call it a superpower or a sixth sense, but I had this inexplicable, preternatural ability to detect when we weren’t heading in the right direction - a skill unaffected by even shut eyes or the deepest slumber. 

It seems as though after all these years of being (y/n)’s passenger, my body has developed a survival adaptation in order to offer her guidance before she would even have to ask, or worse - lower her pride and admit she’s lost! 

With as hard-headed as she is, she’d sooner drive us to Timbuktu before asking me for help.

I was half-asleep when I peeked through one half-lidded eye to observe where we were only to see she blew right by Gregory Boulevard when she should’ve turned left on it. 

“Um, you should make a u-turn at this next light,” I gently advised her before returning my head to its previous position perched on my hand. I closed my eyes again with the presumption she would follow my navigation and make a u-turn, but when I didn’t feel the car change course, I opened them to see that she blew right past the stoplight, too. 

“Hey, my apartment’s that way.” I gestured behind us while looking at her for the first time, catching a smug look on her face. That’s when I knew I was in for it. “Where are you taking me?” 

“You’ll see.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises,” I grumbled, slumping back into my seat with partially renewed energy. Her little antics never failed to get my heart racing. I never knew whether to expect a sweet sunset or a sea of snakes when it came to her. She was that polarizing. “Can I at least get a hint?” I egged on, considering she had yet to even reply to my first statement. 

She was completely unfazed by my pleading. She didn’t even peel her eyes away from the road - that’s how little attention she thought I deserved. “Mmm depends. What’s the magic word?” 

This blatant tease was successfully getting a rise out of me. “Pleaseee,” I dragged out the word as if it would do me any good to let her hear it for longer, but in reality, she just liked to hear me beg. 

She took a sharp intake of breath through gritted teeth, a chupse, to express her displeasure before saying, “Ooh tough luck. The magic word was actually mushroom, but nice try.” 

A mirthless chuckle escaped me for willingly falling for her tricks despite knowing she’d pull something just like that. This girl was the bane of my existence, but at least she still rewarded me with a hint anyway. 

“Your hint is …” While pondering what hint to give me, her eyes traveled to the side, away from the road long enough to make my heart palpitate in a “if-she-doesn’t-pay-attention-to-the-road, we’re-both-gonna-die” kind of way. 

“... something old.” 

Again, she tore her eyes away from the road so she could register my reaction, but truthfully, I didn’t have one. I had no idea what that hint meant. Or rather I had too many ideas, far too many to limit to just one. 

She could’ve been talking about the age of a location, the history of a place, the vintage appearance of something - virtually anything.

“There’s an infinite amount of possibilities about what that could mean,” I argued. “If you actually want me to guess, you’ll have to give me something more.” 

As expected, she was not a fan of my whining and simply rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, stop complaining and use that big brain of yours. I’m sure you’ll figure it out before we even get there.” 

Although there was a high probability she was right that I could’ve solved it by myself, it was more enticing to feed off of what she could give me. “What if I ask you ‘yes or no’ questions?”

The gears in her head were turning as she weighed the pros and cons of humoring my offer. “You better ask some good questions then,” was her answer, which was the long way of saying yes. 

“Is this ‘something old’ an object?”

She hesitated, then decided on, “No.” So I took that as maybe. 

“Is this ‘something old’ a place?” 

There was no indecision with this answer. “No.” 

“Is this ‘something old’ as in appearance?” 

Again, a partial hesitation, but still ultimately a, “No.”

Realizing I pretty much exhausted the tangible, I settled for something more abstract. “Is this ‘something old’ a concept?”

“Yes, you could say that.” 

Her answer would prove to be redundant, as just seconds after we would arrive at our mystery destination. 

Ellie’s Bridal Boutique. 

“Something old, something new. Something borrowed, something blue.” I recited to myself under my breath when I finally unearthed the meaning. The rhyme was a wedding tradition that referred to the things a bride is supposed to wear on her wedding day that’s meant to provide protection and prosperity for the new couple - a superstition.

“Ding! Ding! Ding!” She mimicked the sound of a winning buzzer. “And you are going to be my something old.” 

A short chuckle left me as I stepped out of the car. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do - wear me?” I jested. 

“Well you are a very pretty boy, but I don’t know if you’re pretty enough to wear down the aisle.” 

“So then how am I going to be your something old? I’m only two years older than you.” 

She stopped dead in her tracks on the sidewalk to reach for my hand. I’d be lying if I said the chilling warmth of it didn’t make my breath hitch. My eyes fell to where our bodies met, but they rose to look at her again when she finally spoke. 

“You’re the very first person I met when I started working in the BAU, which makes you my oldest friend on the team, and since you were the first one that saw me, I wanted you to be the first one that saw me in my dress, too.” 

I was already aware that she’d picked out her wedding gown months before, so this appointment couldn’t have been anything more than an alteration update. The only reason I knew that, besides the obvious, was because I could still remember with perfect clarity the morning she came into work after her fitting. She marched right up to my desk to wave a picture of her in the garment right in my face. It wasn’t until I drew back with my head that I could see the image clearly. The dress, while incredibly stunning on her, ‘didn’t fit right’ - her words, not mine. 

“But that’s not how it’s actually gonna look on me. I asked them to take in the waist, change the neckline, and alter the length.” She vividly described to me, letting her finger run over the digital photo of the dress as she spoke. “Do you see what I mean?”

I lied when I said, “Yeah, I do,” because really, I didn’t need her to describe the details to me - I could already see the vision. Even if the dress was the wrong color, length, and ‘poofiness,’ I’d still think she’d look lovely. 

It was my only hope that her future husband would think so, too. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here for my alteration with Reagan at 4.” Just as quickly as she introduced herself to the receptionist, she was being whisked away by an older woman who seemed to have recognized her. 

“Oh, (y/n)! It’s so good to see you again! Come, come, your dress is ready. I just know you’ll love it.” 

Before she slipped out of my vision completely, (y/n) turned around to address me. “I’ll be right back, I promise. Just wait here.” 

I raised my hand in the air to give a short acknowledgment goodbye and followed her instruction to sit in the chair that lied directly in front of a circular raised platform. 

“Are you the groom?” A soft voice from beside me suddenly asked. I looked up to see it was the receptionist holding a tray with a glass of champagne. 

“Oh, I’m okay thank you,” I denied the alcohol with a shake of my head. “And no, no I’m not. Just an … an old friend.” Again, her words, not mine. 

It would come as a surprise to both me and you that with as much as I know about the world, I had no idea how long this would take before I saw her again. With my estimates, it should take maybe fifteen minutes maximum before she walked out in her dress, but who knows? It’s (y/n) after all. She runs on her own clock. The sun rises and sets on her. 

At least in my world it does. 

By around minute 17, I realized my estimates were way off and there was no way she’d be coming out any time soon, so with all that I could do in that store having been done already, the only thing left for me to do was read. Nothing of quality, though. Just those frivolous bridal magazines on the coffee table beside me. I didn’t even want to think about the germs and bacteria that were harboring on these reading materials, but if it meant it’d cure my boredom then perhaps the contraction of microbes would be worth it. 

To say I wasn’t well-versed in fashion would be an understatement and reading the subscriptions only emphasized that further. To put it in perspective, you could style my future bride in a medieval frock and it wouldn’t discourage me whatsoever because I simply have no understanding of what a ‘good’ wedding dress is, therefore, I cannot make an accurate comparison. 

Take, for example, the dress on page 17 of Modern Bride. The model was donning a high neck, long sleeve creme satin dress. I thought it looked quite nice and classic, but the excerpt described it as totally out of style and too old - a faux pas.

But when comparing that dress to the gown on page 24 of The Bride’s Guide, I couldn’t spot a single difference between the two, yet this passage was written in complete adoration. “This dress is vintage done right,” said the article. But to me - they were exactly identical! What was wrong with the first one?

Maybe it was a good thing grooms weren’t allowed to help pick wedding dresses because if I had to assist my bride in picking her’s, then, of course, it would be bad luck! I’d probably pick something utterly horrendous!

I had to admit it was slightly humiliating to confront my incompetence relating to wedding dresses, so before my self-esteem plummeted any further, I set the magazines back in their rightful place on the coffee table so they could once again be what they were always intended for - extraneous decor. 

With a flick of my watch, I noted the period of waiting had only increased by three minutes. Again, I had yet to master the art of wedding garment fittings, but how was 20 minutes not enough time to put a dress on? However, unlike my better half, I had (relatively) zero problems admitting my ignorance, whereas she’d rather drive us off a cliff or into a lake before letting me know she was lost. 

In surrender to my lack of knowledge, I rose from my seat to approach the receptionist and ask if she had a more accurate estimate for how long it would be until I saw (y/n) again. But as it turns out, any estimate she might’ve been able to tell me would’ve been completely wrong for she wouldn’t have even been able to finish her answer before the aforementioned future bride entered the space behind me. 

Remember before when I said I had no gauges of good fashion to outrank a medieval frock? Well, I stand corrected. 

(Y/n) in her dress is what I will measure everyone against. And no one will ever compare. 

“Wow…” The word came out of my mouth before I could think to stop it. My tone was so honest that it scared me. “I’m - You’re …” I was at a total loss for words that I had to sit back down to hopefully regain some clarity. She laughed at my stupidity with a laugh so gentle, I couldn’t not laugh back. 

“That good, huh?” 

I wordlessly nodded while my mouth lied openly in waiting. But the right words never came out; there just weren’t any that could capture this vision of perfection in front of me. 

My mannerisms had clearly already given away the true level of my admiration, so in an effort to lessen the enormity of my obvious wonderment, I reluctantly broke my gaze away from the angel in white and picked up a magazine on the table to perfect the notion of nonchalance. 

“You look . . .” She impatiently waited for my addition, even doing the most adorable little twirl in her dress to give me the full view in the meantime. “Nice,” was the adjective I settled for, as it was such a thoughtless response that perhaps it would convince her that there weren’t a million thoughts on my mind. The most recurring one, and arguably the most troubling one being: I think I’m in love with you. 

“Nice?” She repeated like the word stung her tongue, more out of mock offense than earnest disappointment. “You’re reading your magazine upside down so it’s gotta be better than nice.”

I bashfully looked down to find that, sure enough, her words were true. The magazine was upside down and therefore a total revelation of just how ‘nice’ I really thought she looked.

I tried to hide my smile behind my knuckles as I pressed a fist to my lips, deciding on the most sincere compliment I could give her. 

“Nobody holds a candle to you, (y/n),” I nodded in affirmation. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

After saying so, I nonchalantly - well as nonchalantly as one could when caught slack-jawed and completely in awe - reoriented the catalog. Had I glanced up even a second later, I might not have caught her reaction to my words and the way they made her smile uncontrollably. I looked back down at the magazine with a smirk, giving it a brief flick to open up the pages all the way to me and parrot the motions one would make if they were actually reading.

We both knew I wasn’t though. 

It seemed I never left that wedding boutique because even as we arrived outside my apartment later that day, my mind was still there, stuck on the future bride in her gown.

“Earth to Spencer!” She waved her hand in front of me to grab my attention despite already having it. “We’re here!” She announced. Who was I kidding? She always had my attention. I only wish it didn’t take me this long to realize that the reason she was constantly at the front of my mind was that I loved her.

Nearly about to exit the car, the millionth and one thought rang in my head like a bell - wedding bells, if you will. 

Speak now or forever hold your peace.

At a tantalizingly slow speed, I released the doorknob and turned back towards her.

“...I love you.”

She furrowed her brows and shrugged with her mouth, forming a confused pout. “I love you, too, Reid?” She kind of laughed when she said it, so I knew she thought this was just a friend sending off a friend goodbye, but I couldn’t let her think that’s what I meant. 

“No, not like that.” I clarified with the utmost candor. “I’m in love with you.” I shook my head when I said it which, in any other context, might make you think I was lying, but the shake of my head was merely the physical manifestation of every bone in my body knowing I shouldn’t be saying this, but my heart still having the audacity to do it anyway. 

I confessed with that brutally honest tone again, the one so raw and vulnerable it leaves you nauseous and breathless all at once as you anxiously anticipate the other person’s response to your vulnerability. But I couldn’t even meet her eyes, I was too scared. Even if I had, they would’ve been vacant. Her spirit had vanished from her body, and in its departure left just the shell of a woman who was completely void of color. Her flushed face was a remnant of the shock that paralyzed her and it wouldn’t disappear even as I tried to bring her color back. 

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I wish I had better timing - trust me, I will beat myself up later for not saying it sooner. But I promise you, I am not trying to ruin things between you two and I would never actually try to stand in the way of your wedding - you have to believe me. I want you to be happy and if he’s what makes you happy, then I will live with that. I just had to tell you now because ... if you married him without ever knowing how I felt, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself.”

This was true - I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if I hadn’t said anything - but now that I have - will she be able to forgive me?

Vacant stares turned into piercing glares that drove, what felt like, a thousand daggers right through my heart. She was looking at me as though I were a stranger - completely unrecognizable to her. 

(Y/n), it’s me. It’s Spencer. Don’t you remember me? My heart pleaded. I’m still the same guy I was before. I’m the first friend you made on the team, remember? I’m your something old. Please, please remember me. 

By the time I came to the woeful conclusion that she wouldn’t reply, at least not now, there was only one question weighing on my heart heavily enough to make me ask it before I left her car. 

“Would it have been better if I didn’t tell you?” 

My question stayed answerless even as I lingered at the door after getting out, waiting for one. I knew I should’ve closed it, but I couldn’t. In many ways, it would’ve been shutting the only open vessel to her, formally closing myself off from our friendship. The possibility of losing her as soon as I walked away was too real, and I wasn’t ready yet.

“Please, (y/n), talk to me.” It was a trending theme to have every word I spoke be underlined by this profound piteousness. “Say something.” Say anything.

“I ... I need to get home,” She quietly whimpered, practically begging me to let her go. Up until then, I didn’t want to, but I suddenly wished I had shut the door sooner so that I might not have had to hear the quiet addition, “To my fiancé.”

The color she was so void of in her face? It seems I must have recompensed, for not only was I crowned her something old that day, but I was also her something blue. 

_ _ _ 

If there were a guidebook on all the things to do as the love of your life’s wedding (to someone else) nears, I’d like to think I was following all the protocol. 

Since my not-so-subtle confession, I had yet to press the subject or force her for an answer to my final question, which I think she was thankful for. I also hadn’t plotted a giant scheme to ruin the wedding, nor did I have any intentions of doing so. 

For all intents and purposes, I was acting as a gentleman (who’s in love with you but whom you’re not marrying) ideally should.

You would think that after my big declaration, (y/n) would do everything in her power to avoid me. It’s what I would’ve done. But she’s no coward. That exact heart of gold I fell in love with made no exceptions. Because even after what I did, she still had it in her to extend her kindness to me. 

She’s stubborn like that, remember? 

And though she was showering me with a treatment I didn’t deserve, it still wasn’t enough for my greedy heart. 

The true pain lied in the pretending. Every day I would have to come to work and talk with her and laugh with her and smile with her - I would have to be her friend … pretending that was all that I wanted and nothing more. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that she was acting just as she always had with me. It may seem weird to have expected, nay - wanted - a different reaction from her, but I just wanted something. At least, if she was angry, then I would know what I said had some effect on her, but she was just so indifferent. Like what I said didn’t matter. 

It’s been said that there is a thin line between love and hatred. Hate and love both seem to be involved in the neural processing of what is sometimes referred to as the arousal effect of emotion - this is a technical term, so arousal can be negative. Scientists studying the physical nature of hate have found that some of the nervous circuits in the brain responsible for it are the same as those that are used during the feeling of romantic love – although love and hate appear to be polar opposites. Therefore, the same brain circuitry is involved in both extreme emotions. So, as strange as it may sound, if she didn’t love me, then I at least wanted her to hate me, just so I’d know she had any passion for me that matched my burning passion for her.

But as it turns out, she would never go on to display signs of hatred or love, for she never acted passive-aggressively, never gave me the silent treatment - nothing. Nope, she just acted as if it never happened. She went on with her life, essentially expecting me to do the same, but how could I carry on with life while she was still carrying half of my heart with her? 

It’s an impossible feat, that - to walk around with half a heart. And it’s one that has not gotten easier with time. If anything, time has made it worse, and the closer we got to the wedding, the more difficult it became for me to hold back. And with this exponential growth, it was only inevitable that the pinnacle of difficulty came right before the wedding. 

Before shit hit the fan, she arranged, or rather insisted, that I give a speech at the dinner rehearsal. That hadn’t changed, despite almost everything else having done so. Up until the minute I arrived at the venue, I could’ve recited that speech a million times, forwards and backwards, in my sleep, or even in Russian. But I lost any ability to form coherent thoughts from the second I laid eyes on her. 

As soon as I opened the door, she stood at the entrance to greet her guests, having taken a radiant form that I could only imagine would not pale in comparison to what she would look like tomorrow on her actual wedding day. That thought alone scared me shitless. 

If this is how beautiful she looked tonight and it was only just the rehearsal, how would I ever be able to resist her less than 24 hours from now when she would be marrying a man I could only dream of being half so lucky as?

“Spencer!” Familiar crinkles formed around her eyes as a result of her gigantic smile when she saw me and hugged me thereafter. Her embrace was strangely tighter and lasted for longer than usual, not that I was complaining, but I had to wonder if she was compensating for something. What’s that saying - keep your friends close, and your enemies closer? Was she killing me with kindness? That might’ve been wishful thinking though. Because the same flash of indifference I’d been dealt in recent times came back into her face and tone after hugging me. “You’re at table five with the rest of the team.” 

“Oh, thanks.”

That was it? Just a ‘Spencer!’ and then a nudge in the direction of my seat? No questions about my speech? No threatening comments to not say anything that would ruin the charade we’d been playing for months now? Had she forgotten I was even giving a speech?

“Oh, wait, Spencer!” I felt her hand on my shoulder before I heard her voice. “You left this in my car a couple months ago. I’ve been meaning to give it back to you, but I didn’t remember until today.” 

The first thing that raised a red flag was what she was saying. I’d left something in her car? That would imply that I’d forgotten something, and we both knew that wasn’t possible. But the second suspicious element was the matter of what she claimed I’d left behind. She was handing me a book with the back cover facing me. From the looks of it alone, it wasn’t mine. Clearly, it wasn’t mine. I knew every single book that resides on my shelves and this one has never once crossed them. That, on top of the new book smell and the lack of a wear in the spine, was enough to tell me that not only was this a book I’d never read nor was one to grace my bookshelf, but it was most certainly not one I would have left behind.

She was lying. 

She saw the realization dawn on me, but knowing I would mention it, her hand’s grip around my wrist, which I hadn’t noticed was even there in the first place, tightened, sending me a message. 

She knew I saw the deception. There were so many flaws in what she was saying, that she couldn’t have possibly been clueless of them. It was too easy. Or maybe that was by design. She wanted me to figure out it was a lie. But why?

What was she hiding?

The final thing to leave me when she did was her hand. In its place, it had left a a near perfect indentation in my sleeve. How flawlessly it sculpted to her hand told me just how tightly she was holding me. What was she trying to say?

That’s when I flipped the book over to see the cover. 

Can Love Happen Twice?

And right on the inside cover page was scribbled - in a handwriting so distinctive it could only belong to one person and one person alone - “Yes.” 

_ _ _ 

My heart was racing the entire night as I anxiously awaited for the moment to give my speech. Nothing seemed to ease the tension. Not a sip of water, not the loosening of my tie, not the self-soothing bouncing of my leg. But all it took, all it took was one glance from her and suddenly, the storm within me had settled. 

“Next up we have a speech from Spencer Reid!” 

I rose from my seat like a floundering mess, as to be expected, because how can you possibly catch your bearings as you’re about to make a speech to a room full of people?

“H-hi there. I’m Dr. Spen- I’m Spencer Reid. I’ve worked with (y/n) for several years now and - and so I, um, I wrote this speech for her, so, so I’m gonna read it to you all now,” My stammering had gotten the best of me, so before I could unravel into the mess I surely came off as right about now, I spun from my previous position facing the majority to facing only her. I needed to see her. I needed the reprieve of her eyes again, and she was happy to give it to me.

“(Y/n), from the moment I met you, I thought who is she? And I mean that quite literally because I had no idea who you were and why you were there,” Laughter from the crowd erupted, but her laugh was the only one that mattered to me. “But also because there was just something about you that told me I needed to talk to you. I had no idea what that instinct to strike up a conversation with you would lead to, but I trust my gut a little more now because that very intuition gave me one of the best friends I’ve ever had.” 

To my words, an endeared pout formed on her face. She was touched, and I was glad. 

“Over the seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and years we’ve spent together, I have enjoyed every single measure of time with you. You have taught me more about life and myself than I could have ever learned otherwise - which says a lot,” This once again brought her to laughter. “So I thank you for that, because without you, there would be no one to tell my campfire stories to, there would be no one who could recite Jung or Freud with me, and there would be no one I’d have to correct when they drive down the wrong path,” My own chuckle cut my sentence short. 

“Life with you has simply been made better, and my only hope is that tomorrow, as you get married, you too, will experience that eternal bliss with which you have surely bestowed upon everyone who has had the privilege of knowing you.”

By now both of us were on the verge of tears, hers more apparent than mine as she used the palm of her hand to stifle her sniffles. 

“There is so much more I could say about how great you are, but your favorite author, F. Scott Fitzgerald, has said it best. ‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in the magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No she wasn’t beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul. She is beautiful’,” A tear ran down her cheek as my own eyes welled up beyond their means. “So to you both - may you have a life as beautiful as the bride.”

Even if that life isn’t with me. 

I tuned out all the clapping and cheering, and set my focus solely on her, giving me full liberty to see the way she rose from her chair and escaped the room. Not even shock could paralyze me or stop me from running after her. I sprung so fast into action, which required the maximum amount adrenaline, although I could not credit my speed to the rush, but it was more the exclusive motivation to find her that powered me. The entire time I kept calling out her name as I frantically chased her out of the venue. 

“Spencer.” 

I didn’t even see her there at first, probably because I was half-expecting her to be jumping into a cab or running away from me some more when I found her, but just as before, she made it too easy for me. She was waiting for me, standing there in no spectacular fashion. 

The wind was blowing strands of hair in her face that were not so large so that I couldn’t see the red rings around her eyes that were caused by the irritation and formation of tears. She was simply staring back at me with this look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something. 

In the silence, I could still appreciate how astonishingly gorgeous she was. How badly I wanted her. I would’ve whisked her away and taken her as mine if I knew it would make her happy. But that’s just it - I didn’t know. 

I needed her to say it. So say it. 

Say it, darling. 

Spoken through a congested voice (which spoke volumes in reality because of the mere revelation that she was indeed crying) was the plainest, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” With that, she vanished back into the restaurant, leaving me to my devices on the sidewalk. 

She didn’t say it, but she didn’t have to. 

_ _ _ 

Perhaps the false confidence in my speech or what little she had to say to me after it or even the hidden message in the book got to my head, but whatever it was, I was feeling suspiciously alright. Luckily, that feeling didn’t deviate even as I made my way to the church. 

Upon arrival, everything seemed exactly as it should be, so consequently the lack of something out of place did not adequately denote what lied just beyond those doors. Or should I say what didn’t?

Much to my mortification, it was a completely empty church. Every pew, though decorated for a wedding, was uninhabited and showed no indications of having been such recently. As I walked further in, the door automatically shut behind me with a loud bang. It would’ve shocked me more had something else not caught my attention already. 

It was (y/n), standing at the altar … completely alone. 

Suddenly, it felt like I’d been drawn in by this invisible gravity, which was now floating me down the aisle. My feet could not carry me to her fast enough.

I was sure this was some kind of dream simply by the way the light gleamed through the stained glass windows, casting banners of golden luminescence on her. It was as if heaven itself had come down with the specific delegation to illuminate the vision of one of its fallen angels. 

“(Y/n)?” My voice reverberated throughout the chapel, ricocheting off the high, painted ceilings and back to me. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t until I reached a certain point in the middle aisle, that I realized her veil had been covering her face this entire time. The angel in white only turned more heavenly when she flipped the veil backward, revealing herself to me. 

It took her a moment to answer, but it was her head that answered first before her mouth did. She began shaking her head slowly, followed by a short, unequivocal, “No.”

As you might imagine, I was dumbfounded. “No?” That answer wouldn’t have made sense in the context of what I had previously asked. 

“No.” She repeated, with somehow even more definitiveness. I decided it was best to stay silent and wait for her explanation. 

“No, it wouldn’t have been better if you didn’t tell me.” 

There was my answer I’d been searching for. 

“God, Spencer - what took you so long?” 

From the breathlessness and the rushed cadence of her voice, I knew precisely what was coming next. She instantaneously abandoned the bouquet she’d been clutching in favor of her hands’ ability to pull me in. The pressure on my fragile skull when our frenzied lips finally met was not a punishment so much as it was a reward. And just as we began to find our rhythm, I slid my hand into her hair, which I began to regret when I realized just how much time and effort probably went into its structuring. I pulled away the moment I felt a carefully placed pin lodged within her hair slip between my fingers. 

True, for a moment I was unable to open my eyes afterward from the sheer elation I was experiencing, but as I came to, I found myself looking at the hairpin I’d accidentally extracted from her curls, one that I could’ve sworn I’d seen a fellow coworker of ours donning in the past. 

“Is this -”

“Yep, it’s Penelope’s.” She admitted through the most debonair giggles. After giving her a quizzical, and only partially judgmental glance, she managed to blurt out, “What? Why are you looking at me like that? It was my ‘something borrowed’!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722 @spencersmagic @spencerreid-mgg @half-blood-dork @goldeng1rl8 @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms @random-human-person 

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Hours Ago // Ashton Irwin

Here we are at the final installment! This section was honestly the driving force behind me deciding to write this whole thing - the night of the album release I was so inspired I told a handful of people about both this section and the fic as a whole, without knowing if I would ever follow through on it. I ended up writing it just to see if I could, unsure if I would even end up posting it. I’m glad I did and I hope you are too!

Thank you to everyone who has read and/or given feedback on the first two chapters - it really does mean a lot. Thank you to @ashtonangst for the real time reaction messages that are as equally entertaining as they are helpful. And like basically all of my work, this entire 10k+ monster of self-indulgence wouldn’t have been possible without the guidance, cheerleading and wisdom of @cal-puddies

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash in fluffy, contemplative (and obviously smutty) situations. Weed smoking, oral sex performed on both a male and a female (perhaps simultaneously oop), unprotected sex within an established relationship

Word Count: 3534

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You knew Ashton had been wanting to do something to commemorate the album release but you were still shocked to wake up to the sound of him hauling your suitcase out of the closet.

“Oh good, you’re up!” He giggles. “Think you can be ready to take off for a few days by the time I’m done with my interviews?”

You stare blankly at him for a moment or two and he offers another round of giggles before quickly explaining the arrangements he’d made for a desert retreat to thank everyone who helped him put his album together; he’s talking a mile a minute, describing the Airbnb he’d booked, the safety precautions he’d asked everyone to take, the plans he had for activities once everyone got there.

It’d be a lot to take in even if you hadn’t just woken up but you love when he’s excited like this, so animated and bright, you can practically feel the joy radiating from him. You promise to be ready after lunch and with a quick kiss, he’s rushing downstairs for a Zoom appointment.

The drive to Joshua Tree flies by, the two of you singing, chatting and generally thrilled to get out of town for the first time since lockdown started. Once you arrive at the rental, he practically yanks you out of the car to enthusiastically show you around the expansive property.

After briefly teasing him that of course he chose a getaway destination that offers a ‘hammock circle’ as an amenity, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him tight. “It’s perfect, babe. I’m glad you’re gonna get a chance to unwind after all this, you deserve it.” You tilt up and he pecks your lips. “When do the others get here?” You ask, starting to pull him back towards the house.

Ash grins and pulls on your arm, bringing you back into him. “Friday.” For the second time today, you look at him in utter bafflement. He kisses your knuckles and earnestly explains, “I know I haven’t been very present for you and this whole thing couldn’t have been easy for you to deal with so I thought we could use a couple days together to kind of reset and reconnect.”

“Ash,” you pout, unsure of what to say. You’re overwhelmingly touched and all you can think to do is to throw your arms around his neck and hold him tight. He chuckles and wraps around you as well, the two of you swaying together for a moment.

The next couple hours are spent exploring the grounds, arranging for grocery delivery and unpacking your bags. After a quiet dinner, you follow him out to the patio to relax and enjoy the idyllic desert landscape. He pulls his long hair back into a bun as he settles in on a couch.

You get comfortable, sitting cross-legged next to him, while he unzips his backpack at the foot of the couch and retrieves a glass stash jar, a small grinder and a pack of rolling papers; he turns to you, raising his eyebrows and you nod enthusiastically.

He grabs the acoustic guitar sitting by the couch, flipping it over to lay in his lap as a makeshift table. You realize for a relaxing retreat, he hasn’t really sat still since you arrived and you decide to check in.

“So,” you start, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “Couple days from now, people everywhere are gonna get to enjoy all your hard work. Hear everything you poured yourself into. How are you feeling?”

Ashton is focused on grinding the weed and his reply is brief and distracted. "I feel good, I feel ready. Probably the best I’ve felt about a release."

You’re unsatisfied with his easy answer so you press further. “Why’s that? Because there’s less pressure without the label? Or because it all belongs to just you?” You twirl your finger in the curls at the base of his neck, the ones he missed scooping into his bun.

He pauses, contemplating this time. “I mean, all of that feels great but I think I’m really just pleased with it because it was made with pure artistic intent… like, I’m not gonna gain anything from this. I didn’t have to make it but I needed to, you know?” He looks over at you expectantly to see if his point was made.

You nod and smile softly at him. Happy to be understood, he turns back to his task. You watch intently as he sprinkles the weed onto the paper, brow furrowing as he meticulously loads it with just the right amount. You always love watching him work and this was no different.

"I get what you're saying, babe… and I’m happy you’re feeling good about it,” you beam. “I’m so proud of you, Ash.”

He looks over and shoots you a toothy grin. You intended to continue, to keep him talking but you've become distracted by the way his long fingers look as he rolls the newly forming joint back and forth between them. When his tongue darts out to drag across the paper to seal it, you find yourself biting your lip, fascinated.

His voice interrupts your enraptured silence. “We can talk about something else if you want, you’ve been hearing about this non-stop for months now," he laughs, feeling around his pockets for a lighter.

“I like hearing your thoughts on things you’re passionate about,” you shrug, handing him the lighter off the coffee table. "Plus, it’s the reason why we’re here.”

Ash shakes his head as he turns the stick over the lighter's flame. “No, the album is the reason why everyone else is going to be here,” he insists. “The reason we’re here is different.” He lifts the lit joint to his mouth and takes a long drag.

“Right. Reconnecting. Resetting,” you parrot his earlier words breezily, watching the smoke pour from his mouth.

He scowls at your tone of voice. “I’m serious,” he says firmly, passing it to you. “This year has obviously been a lot but you really got the short end of the stick, having to deal with me.”

You look at him, puzzled. “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” you comment, taking a couple hits. “Parts of the year have been good, parts have been shit but the silver lining to it all is that I’ve gotten to spend so much of it with you.”

He reaches over and rubs your thigh. “I invited you to live with me for the lockdown and then barricaded myself in a studio all day everyday. Going to bed by yourself every night, waking up alone, seeing me at meals only if Matt forced me to take a break that day. And you also had to put up with me during the CALM disaster and the tour getting cancelled… it’s been me, me, me. All the time,” he points out.

“Oh, you don’t think I’m used to that by now?” You joke, giggling at his mock-offended gasp. He lightly smacks your thigh in protest and snatches the joint back. “Seriously, babe. I didn’t put up with those things, I went through them with you. It’s hard for me to see you frustrated or upset about situations that can’t be changed. When you’re disappointed, I’m disappointed. So to see you be so excited about something? Your joy brings me joy. I wouldn’t trade that for all the late night cuddles in the world.”

“Baby,” he breathes quietly, pulling you in to rest at his side. You’re both quiet for a few moments, thinking about each other’s words, feeling each other’s presence. “I hope you know how sincerely I mean it when I say I would not have been able to do this without you. This album belongs to you too.”

“Oh yeah?” You look up at him with a twinkle in your eye. “So what’s my percentage, how much of a cut am I getting, Mr. Label Man?” You laugh at your joke, pulling from the joint he’s just handed back to you.

Ashton laughs heartily and scoffs, “Why do you think I started growing my own vegetables? We’re fuckin’ broke now, sweetheart.” He giggles as if it’s the funniest thing he’s ever said.

“Well, you’re broke and out of work, I am currently still employed,” you playfully boast, gesturing with the cigarette for emphasis.

“Ohhh, that’s how it’s gonna be now?” He jabs over and over at your side and you dramatically yelp. “Do I gotta start calling you ‘Daddy’ now?”

You offer him a devilish smile and carefully get on your knees to straddle him. “Do you prefer the term ‘sugar baby’ or ‘kept man’?” You tease, placing the joint in his mouth before he can reply.

He runs his hands over your ass while he puffs away; holding the hit in his mouth, he moves a hand up to guide your face towards his. He presses his lips against yours and you open your mouth, allowing the smoke to transfer from his mouth to yours. You grind in his lap a little and he groans as he watches you tilt your head back and slowly let the smoke trickle out of your mouth.

After a few more shotguns back and forth, Ash quickly sets what’s left in the ashtray on the coffee table and buries his hands in your hair, crashing his lips into yours. You moan as he kisses you with an almost unreal intensity; his tongue feels like it’s melting into yours, his lips have never tasted softer or sweeter. His hands have slipped under the back of your shirt and his fingers are either icy cold or burning hot - you’re undecided but it feels incredible - as they trace tantalizing designs on your skin.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been making out - it could’ve been 10 minutes, it could’ve been 40 - when he states in a gravelly voice, “We need to get you inside and naked for me.”

You reply with a pleased sigh and attach your lips to his jaw, just below his ear; your face bumping against the coolness of his earring both distracts and delights you. You don’t realize you’ve been rocking relentlessly against his growing hardness until he firmly grabs your hips and rasps your name as a stern warning.

He lifts you off his lap and stands up from the couch. You don’t know whether to laugh or moan at the spectacle: eyes glassy from both arousal and blazing, lips swollen from slotting with yours, skin littered with your bitemarks. His hair is pulled halfway out of the bun, his shirt is unbuttoned all the way and the silk pants he’s wearing aren’t even trying to hide the tent that’s formed in them.

He pulls you up from the couch and right back onto his lips; you stand there on the patio for several more minutes, slightly swaying as you devour each other. You can’t remember the last time you felt this hungry for him; smoking together usually gets you both hot but this is next level.

By the time you finally pull away and breathlessly declare, “God, I swear I could fuckin’ cum like this right here,” he's got you down to your bra and panties and you’ve got one hand in his hair and one down his pants.

He nips at your neck a bit longer before separating from you and turning you towards the house. “Bed,” he commands, starting to gather up his things. You continue to linger and he swats at your ass to get you moving.

You set the mood when you get to the bedroom: opening the windows to bring in the cool night air, dimming the lamps, lighting some candles. You know he brought incense but you’re not sure where he unpacked it. Ashton slinks up behind you while you’re digging through a drawer and wraps himself around you.

“Why. Aren’t. You. Naked. Yet.” He complains, leaving wet kisses across your neck. You shiver as his fingers trail down your back before unhooking your bra and pushing it down your arms. You giggle as he tugs your panties down your legs right where you stand.

You step out of the underwear and let the bra fall from your arms, turning to him completely bare. “Your turn,” you lilt, lightly backing him up towards the bed, incense quest long forgotten. You laugh at how quickly he whips off his shirt before he lets himself fall onto his back on the mattress. You crawl next to him and as soon as you’re near enough, his hands are instantly playing with your tits; you take his pants down, licking your lips as his hard cock springs up against his stomach with a satisfying smack.

You stroke it where it lays, using just your thumb and index finger, finding yourself hypnotized as you watch your hand move, hear his breath get heavier, watch the first drops of precum appear at the head. His hand has made its way between your spread knees and he lazily drags his fingers through your folds, occasionally tapping against your clit; he’s barely using any pressure but in this moment, it feels incredible and you rock against him.

After a few minutes of mindlessly playing with each other, he reaches for your arm and gently pulls, wanting you to come closer to him; you lean in and even with his eyes half-closed, you note the fondness swimming in them. He cups your face with his hands and murmurs, “Love you,” just before he presses your lips to his. The noise of your sloppy kisses sounds almost musical to your stoned mind.

Ash moves his hand back to your center as you lean to peck down his chest, relishing the feeling of his skin shivering underneath you as you move down his torso. Again, you leave his cock on his stomach, giving the shaft a few sloppy kisses before taking his balls in your mouth.

“Baby… here,” he breathily directs you, gesturing for you to lay on your side while he turns onto his. He lifts your outer leg and rests his head on your other one; he sets your leg back down on the bed, bent at the knee, effectively creating a triangle of space allowing him access to your pussy. He moves closer and licks a stripe through your wetness to test, the resulting moan from you letting him know he’s spot on with his positioning.

You scoot closer to his crotch, reaching for his cock that’s now facing you, giving it a few strokes before guiding it to your mouth. You’re now deep in your weed and lust fueled haze so it takes you a few moments to wrap your head around giving a blowjob at this angle. The work he’s doing between your legs isn’t doing your concentration any favors so you buy yourself some time and stick your tongue out, tapping his cock on it before kitten licking over the head; you suckle at the tip while your fingers tease his shaft and you moan when you taste precum.

Ashton’s tongue darts in and out of your folds and he thinks to himself he should tell you that you’ve never tasted better but decides not to because he doesn’t want you off his mouth for even a second. He teases the tip of his tongue at your entrance and the way you jerk against him leaves him groaning; the vibration against you feels like tiny electric sparks shooting through your pussy.

You grip his ass, using it for leverage as you start to bob your head up and down on his cock; you move cautiously at first, still trying to navigate the position, but as you continue taking him, you realize how much you’re enjoying the slow pace. You swirl your tongue around him as you move, your heightened state making you appreciate every detail: the weight of him, the details of the veins and ridges on his skin.

You pull off with a pop and rub the tip over your lips before doing the same down his shaft; when you come back up, your tongue’s attention focuses on fluttering around the underside of the head. You feel Ash pull away from you and hear a “Just like that, baby,” muffled against your thigh as you take him down again.

He collects himself and dives back in, promptly sucking your clit between his lips. You whimper around his cock a few times before you have to let him slip out. Your brain tells you that you should let him know you’re getting close but your senses are so overwhelmed, you can’t find the words.

Ash knows your body and even his foggy mind can read the signs that you’re nearly there. He wraps his arm around your hip, trying to steady your unruly movements as he slows his work on your clit, edging you slightly.

You whine his name and even your own ears are surprised by how needy it sounds. You try to resume sucking him but your pleasure center feels like it’s in overdrive and you can’t make yourself focus. You rock your hips against his mouth, breathlessly conceding, “Gotta cum, babe… oh god, Ash, please."

His fingers dig into your thigh as he holds on while you writhe against him; his tongue ramps up on your clit, skillfully fluttering back and forth with voracity. Your legs shake around his head and your breath comes out in labored gasps as you climax; your pre-existing high melts into your orgasmic high and you lose yourself in it, unable to believe how many waves of sensation you’re feeling.

He licks at you until your tremors stop and then he’s carefully untangling himself and turning around so he can lay facing you. Your eyes flutter open when you feel him stroking your hair and you giggle at how adorably sinful he looks: curls askew, goofy yet lusty smile curling at his lips, face damp and shiny from your release.

You give him a soft kiss and then in what feels like one swift motion, you push him onto his back, lay yourself on top of him and slip him inside you. You unhurriedly move yourself on him, chest pressed against his, alternately pecking at or mumbling sweet nothings into his skin.

Ashton pulls you into a deep kiss and hugs you tightly to him, arms wrapping around you. He runs his hands over any skin he can reach, taking advantage of your closeness to create a tactile heaven for himself. He wonders if your pussy has ever felt so tight or warm around him; as if you can read his mind, you clench and he groans loud and long, hands moving to your ass.

His large hands grip your cheeks and you rhythmically rock against him as he lazily fucks up into you. The two of you murmur and moan at each other, neither of you particularly trying to express anything other than the total pleasure you’re feeling. Finally, his noises take on a different, more urgent tone, his hips begin to stutter and he whines your name as he cums inside you.

You lay in silence for what feels like hours but in reality can’t be more than a minute. He kisses the top of your head and carefully moves you to the side of him; he reaches over to the bedside table for some tissues and you watch reverently as he cleans the both of you up.

“I fucking love you,” you dreamily state, unprompted.

He giggles blissfully at your outburst as he settles back on the bed, opting to lay perpendicular, resting his head on your stomach. “Well, I fucking love you,” he beams, closing his eyes as you finger brush his hair. “You know, this is exactly what I pictured when I planned this whole thing.”

“The trip or the album?” You joke, stifling a laugh. “You know you didn’t have to make a whole ass album if you wanted to take me to the desert for a nice stone and bone, you could’ve just asked.”

Ash snorts and sits up to blow a raspberry on your bare skin. “You know what I meant.”

“Yeahhhh, I guess,” you tease. There’s a long silence before you muse, “I feel incredibly lucky to be with you during all this.”

“The trip or the album?” He laughs hard at his quip, crawling up your body once he sees the amused pout on your face. “Aww, baby, I’m the lucky one. Thank you for being here with me. For everything this year, not just the stuff worth celebrating.”

You offer a satisfied hum as he kisses you sweetly. He pulls back and raises an eyebrow to ask, “Have I made up for all those nights you were sleepin’ on the couch yet?”

"God… my back hurts just thinking about it,” you exaggeratedly grumble. He pokes at you and you snuggle into him. "Maybe you should light up the rest of that joint and persuade me a little more."

Ashton looks at you, eyes gleaming with admiration and amusement. "Deal."

————-

Taglist issues again so my apologies if you get notif’d more than once (or not at all)

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@photochic18  @kouska901 @Indermeow

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

08.

where do we go from here

“Dorms, huh?”

“Yes,” nodded the green-haired boy, staring at his drink – affogato that you prepared. “it’s to ensure the safety of the students tenfold, considering the recent events.”

Nodding, eyes watched the scars on Izuku’s gentle hands – from when he was trying to figure out his quirk, trailing up to the burn he keeps hidden on his left arm – one caused by someone.

“I can imagine Auntie Inko wasn’t overboard with the idea?”

Izuku shifted in his seat, fingers stirring the straw of his drink. “She wanted me to transfer, because of how much I’ve been through…”

“I can’t blame her,” you nod again – there was USJ, and then there was this. “then again, it was something you couldn’t control and not really the school’s fault.”

“It’s what I told her, but she was adamant on keeping me safe. She’s a mom, after all.” That made you smile, Auntie Inko was really protective of Izuku ever since Uncle Hisashi worked abroad.

“A-Also, A-All Might convinced her,”

(E/c) eyes widened. “W-Wow…”

The All Might was at Izuku’s? Informing Auntie Inko of the dorm system and convincing her to have his apprentice stay at UA?

Izuku must be that special for the Symbol of Peace, his biggest idol, to keep him in UA.

“That’s amazing, Izuku.” Scoffing, you broke into an easy grin. “Isn’t that great, you get to stay in UA, got convinced to stay by the All Might, and you still have a chance to live his legacy.”

“(N-Nickname)!” With your praises, red flushes his cheeks and his arms flounder in the air, much to your amusement, before they ended up wrapped around his head protectively.

Everything changing again, huh?

With the dorms, students of UA will be granted and ensured of their safety as they’ll be living within the school’s premise. Really, they were doing so much just to give their students, future heroes, the very best that they deserve.

Still, it would be kind of lonely to have Izuku away.

Carmine eyes suddenly crossed your mind. The soft look on his face. The smell of burnt sugar. His warm rough hands.

“Neh, Izuku,” arms stretched out, head dropping down, your voice was quiet. “how is he?”

Drink long gone, he swallowed the sweet concoction down his throat, relishing in its sweetness and bitterness. He studied you for a bit, noting the glint in your eyes, how it was much different from before whenever Kacchan brought up.

Tapping his fingers, he carefully shared. “For starters, he’s safe. But somehow, he’s the same as ever.” Fingers twitched slightly at that, curling in slowly. “That much I can tell.” Brows furrowing slightly, especially when you recalled the relief in those carmine eyes, with something else.

The League of Villains.

They kidnapped Bakugou because he was top of their class, an easy target to play with considering his rather volatile streak that might bode well with villains.

“League of Villains,” you try, testing the weight of the villain group in your mouth. Izuku fell silent.

You didn’t like it. It felt dangerous, bitter, terrifying-

“I-It’s about your parents…”

Releasing a shuddering breath, you slumped into the table, forcing the numbing thoughts away. That is until a hand wrapped over yours, giving a gentle squeeze. You squeezed back, as thanks.

“(Nickname),” at the call of your name, you look up, meeting gentle green – brighter than emeralds, opals, more soothing that viridian or moss. “when you get the chance, talk to Kacchan. Okay?”

Carmine eyes crossed your mind again, the shocked expression turning gentle. Burnt sugar filling your senses. The fluttering beating of his heart.

“Little did you know, I’ve already had one.”

He hummed. “Yes, but you know what I’m talking about.” He says kindly, almost teasingly. You rolled your eyes at that.

“By the way,” recovering, you sat up, hands still in his. “you’re currently working on your ultimate move, right?” he nods “Well, need some help with that?”

Puzzled, it took about a few seconds until the questions sank. “Y-You don’t mean…!?”

Giggling, toothily grinning at your best friend, your eyes flashed yellow. “I might not look like much, but at least I can give a few pointers and wisdom. Also, I hope you’re okay with extra hours- “

“Of course! I’ll be in your care, (Nickname)!” he replies almost immediately, face filled with so much excitement to finally see you use your quirk at its full potential.

Mentally thinking of the days you’re not working, but hey, this was all for a good cause. “Looking forward to it, Izuku~”

Taking a break from work, you felt your phone vibrate, seeing a text from Izuku. 

To: (Nickname)

From: Izuku

[image.txt]

I PASSED MY PROVISIONAL LICENSE!!!!!!!!!!!

You couldn’t help the smile breaking on your lips, threatening to split your face in half from sheer joy and pride for your best friend. He did it!

All those days mastering his Shoot Style while dealing with your rather whimsical and unpredictable fighting really paid off!

  From: (Nickname)

To: Izuku

Congrats, you!

I’m so fcking proud of you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

Let’s celebrate, okay? Just drop by the café!

You were tempted to ask if Bakugou had passed as well, debating even to give him a text. Fingers tapped lighting through your contacts, scrolling to find his name, staring. Just staring.

Shaking hands fisting against his shirt, nose buried between his shoulder blades, taking in his scent- You locked your phone, exhaling through your nose as you closed your eyes.

“You’re being unfair to him, (Nickname).”

Just then an unknown number called you.

It had been All Might.

All Might.

The Symbol of Peace.

He had called you, urging you to come to the UA campus at the dead of night for something he wouldn’t enclose over the phone. The hero had managed to work things out for your entry into the premise, albeit, discreetly, since it’s past working hours after all.

“So, you’re Young Midoriya’s good friend, yes?” the said hero was tall, so freaking tall! Even in his skeletal form, he loomed over you like a skyscraper, and his voice was commanding, firm, yet kind.

Remembering he had asked you a question, you fumbled for a reply. “A-Ah, yes sir!” Still, to be in his presence was something. Now you understood why Izuku fanboys hard – there were so many emotions to contain!

“I’ve heard a great deal about you, Young Midoriya speaks very highly of you.” That made you duck your head, a fond smile on your lips. “It’s clear that it is a bond forged greatly through careful means.”

“That, it is.” It was a rather poetic way of putting it, but yeah.

“With that being said, I’m sure you’re also acquainted with Young Bakugou, right?”

You nearly tripped on your own footing, halting at that, glancing up in question. “Y-Yes…” Carmine eyes, the smell of burnt sugar, warm calloused hands, suddenly filled your senses.

“In the short time that I’ve known them, I’ve also come to an understanding that the boys have a rather complicated relationship,” you gulp, for some reason. “they’re both on equal footing, yet it’s not very evident to both of them. They balance each other out perfectly.” He’s not wrong, you thought, hands curling and uncurling into fists.

“W-What are you trying to say?”

Turning to you, you realized that you reached some sort of building – it was huge, almost spanning the size of USJ! maybe it was a training ground? – the hero’s gaze wasn’t one of All Might’s, his gaze was soft, weary, understanding, guilt, and, dare you say, hopeful?

“Those boys have the makings to be a great hero, are each other’s greatest rivals yet they can be each other’s greatest ally if only pushed right.”

That was an idea you would never have thought of, but one you refused to acknowledge.

Before you could ask, suddenly, your senses went on full blast – (e/c) eyes turning yellow.

Heavy blasts from afar. Devastation followed. Heavy breathing. The smell of fire- no, angered explosions. Fully mapping out the vicinity, you found two presence were at the heart of it all. These heartbeats. Izuku? Bakugou?

“As expected, your senses indeed sharpen at night.”

Confused, angered, you turned to him, yellow eyes glinting in the moonlight. “WHY DID YOU BRING ME HERE!?” Their breathing, it was erratic, labored, abnormal, what was happening!?

He could only stare, expression betraying nothing. “I think I need to give the young boys some time to talk before I do it myself.”

“And what am I, some spectator?”

“I’m sure there’re things you would want to say to them as well, Young Yuroichi.”

Was what he said, but walking into the battlefield, having watched two of your childhood friends going out on each other, talking with their fists, kicks, and quirks, leaving bruised and battered, you could only feel one thing – numb.

With the fight over, your two childhood friends sat back on the asphalt ground, weary and exhausted out – physically and emotionally.

“Who else knows?” asked the ash blond, head hanging low with both arms propped against his knees.

“Recovery Girl, the principal, and…”

Apparently, that was your cue to make your presence known.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the two boys raised their heads, eyes widening at the sight of you, in their campus, dead at night, eyes still in its dangerous yellow.

“A-ARE YOU TWO FUCKING KIDDING ME!?

They flinched at the volume of your voice, as though you bellowed it with all the air in your lungs, coming out from the shadows after All Might’s speech, knowing that it wasn’t your place to be there, but after hearing Bakugou’s voice – that was pathetic of him, even the hero hadn’t expected that.

“Y-Young Yoruichi-“

“Don’t,” the hero flinched at your voice, pinning him with your stare “get me started you skeletal excuse of a hero!” you say to him angrily, bitingly, forgetting that this man was the Symbol of Peace, the greatest hero of this generation, the hero who could easily do away with you, and the greatest hero to your two asshole of childhood friends.

“(N-Nickname)…”

Giving him a warning look, deadlier under the moonlight with your yellow eyes shining, Izuku knew better than to gulp and avoid your gaze. You then turned the same look to Bakugou, whose shoulders sagged underneath your gaze, a sense of defeat washing over him. He’s already bad in your book, he might’ve worsened it in this situation.

He was walking on thin ice, treading on it really should he wish to fix it.

“A-Ah, K-Kacchan just wanted to talk s’all, (Nickname)! B-but it ended up…um, uh…” words were failing him, especially when you are at the receiving end. Unamused. Unfazed. Unrelenting. Angered. Not even All Might could help out, too scared to deal with an angry teenager. “…uh…i-it ended with our fists….?”

Izuku had been quick to his defense, much to the surprise and annoyance of the blond. But you weren’t having it.

“Stop making excuses for him, Izuku. You’re better than that.” The green-haired boy flinched, hands dropping in defeat. “He should well know to defend himself instead of beating himself down for it, which is a far cry from that proud pompous asshole we’re both familiar with.” The ash blond’s fingers twitched at your words.

Taking a deep breath, you exhaled slowly out your nose. “You two haven’t had a proper talk since and you thought of doing it now with your fucking fists and kicks? What’re you, animals!?”

Having watched their fight and taking into account the months they’ve been in UA, seeing their performance during the Sports Festival, and hearing accounts of progress from Izuku, Aizawa-san, and the Bakugous, the two clearly have changed.

After all this time, you still felt so far from the two.

After all this time, it pained you still to see a drift between your best friends.

After all this time, just seeing finally talk to each other – in the shittiest way of their own version, it was all you ever wanted.

After all this time, the only thing you wanted was for them to finally see eye-to-eye.

After all this time, you just wanted the two to be friends again.

Weakly you fell to your knees, arms reaching for both and bringing them to a hug. The two boys were stunned, to say the least.

“I’m so glad.” Tears began to spill, your hold tightening. “I was worried about you two so much, you know. You two are selfish, stubborn, and terribly reckless in your own ways, but you two are the strongest persons I know.”

Izuku can be so out of reach sometimes, especially when he’s trying to embody himself as the current One for All user.

Bakugou had always been so far from your reach, but it pains you to know that he had been feeling shitty because he didn’t know just how to deal with his emotions.

It made you feel like the worst friend.

“You have to be more honest with how you’re feeling,”

You say you wanted to support Izuku? Part of the deal was respecting his wishes when it came to a certain ash blond he’s admired next to All Might, the person who was the embodiment of victory for him, someone he’d like to catch up with.

But you let confusing emotions – like a stupid crush and hate, cloud over your judgments.

“I’m sorry if I won’t be able to understand if I’ll have to beat it outta you guys, i-if…” hiccupping, your hold slackened momentarily, before tightening. “I’m sorry if I’m such a horrible friend. I’ll try to do more, be better for you guys. So please, don’t ever forget that…okay?”

“(Nickname)…”

A tentative hand reached out, hesitant as it patted your back. Seeing as you didn’t flinch away, the hand awkwardly rubbed comforting circles as you cried harder.

Seeing this, the green-haired teen smiled, relishing in your hug, the pain from Kacchan’s attacks, and the wisdom from his mentor.

“Okay.”

All Might could only watch three youngsters settling amongst themselves, as all friends should.

“Okay, (Name).”

masterlist • nine

[frostsinth]

I watched the interdimensional door close, my breath caught in my throat, my heart racing. The dimension I had entered was dark, but seemed to sparkle like emeralds. Light seemed to float and shimmer in an almost solid form. It was hard to make out shapes or depth, but it was eerily beautiful.

“Well well,” Came a hoarse, rasping voice behind me, “What do we have here?”

I stiffened at the sound of the demon’s voice, and felt the hairs on the back of my neck prickle as heavy footsteps came from behind me. I closed my eyes, steeling my will and squaring my jaw. This was what I had wanted, I reminded myself. This was all part of the plan. And there was no backing out now.

Slowly, I turned, balling my fists tighter around my ceremonial robe, opening my eyes. Then I started a little in surprise.

The creature before me was not human; that was obvious. His huge eyes were black from corner to corner, and a smaller set rested behind the first. He had long twin horns curling out from his head like a bull’s before him, and huge, batlike pointed ears. When he saw me staring at him, he grinned, exposing his elongated mouth and sharp, pointy white teeth. About his shoulders and horns a fire cackled and snapped soundlessly, its flames licking about his form almost like hair. A long thick tail snaked behind him, its tip also supporting a brilliant blaze. But his huge, muscular torso was humanoid, as were his arms and legs. His large hands had five digits, the same as mine, albeit his were capped in deadly claws. Yet not at all the horrible grotesque thing that had been described to me by the solemn and grim Mothers of the Abbey.

Slowly, the great demon paced closer, his four eyes studying me hungrily. “What did they tell you, little lamb?”

His voice was harsh, like he spoke through smoke. And each word was thickly coated in a strange, skin tingling accent. I swallowed, facing him with my shoulders squared. His toothy grin grew a few more inches.

“The Mothers told me it is an honor to be Chosen,” I began, and was proud that my voice did not shake, “And that our Sacrifice is the only thing keeping the balance in our world.”

He eyed me, then slowly began to pace around me. I could feel the warmth of his fires, and resisted the urge to follow him with my own eyes, staring straight ahead instead. I felt his large hand reach out, and stiffened slightly as he pulled one pin from the elaborate hairstyle the Mothers had created. A few long strands tumbled loose down my back.

“And what did they tell you to expect?” He purred, reaching out and pulling another pin from its place.

“They told me you were cunning, and would try to trick me into breaking the deal you made with our ancestors. That you would seek to find a way into our world through me. And therefore I must resist, and only seek to satisfy you for one night, as is the agreement forged between you and our world.” I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

He chuckled; a deep, coarse sound, pulling out a final pin so that only a few strands remained curled up at the top of my head. Slowly, he came around to stand in front again, looming over me.

“All lies, of course.”

“I know.”

He seemed surprised, his black eyes twitching momentarily, and his lips curling back. “Is that so? Then why tell me them?”

“You asked me what I was told; not what I know.” I told him softly.

His chuckle was louder this time, echoing through the strange dimension like a snapping bolt of lightening. His grin returned, he reached out one longer finger. I resisted the urge to flinch as he tucked one strand of my long blonde hair behind my ear.

“You are... different, than the rest.” He noted, and a long tongue darted out, licking his lips. Dark eyes considered me for a moment again. “Then tell me, what do you know, little lamb?”

I took a deep steadying breath. “... I know that it is you that keeps the Mother Superior alive, not any god granted longevity. I know that your deal is with her, and in sacrificing a maiden every 10 years, you grant her the power to perform what she calls ‘miracles’. I know that she is not the holy prophet she pretends to be, and that she has deceived everyone this way for nearly two centuries.”

His hand lingered in my hair, and I saw his smile grow again. I swallowed the lump in my throat, feeling my breath catching there. When I remembered to breathe, that is.

“Clever little lamb,” He purred, his huge thumb tracing my cheek. Then he slowly withdrew his hand, and I saw his dark eyes grow hungry. “And yet, here you stand. So I will offer to you what I offer each maiden the Mother Superior sends.” 

His tail twitched, and he stepped closer, reaching out again. But instead of my hair this time, his hands moved to the front of my ceremonial robe. I felt my heart begin to beat against my chest like a panicked, caged bird. I’m certain he can feel it.

“To satisfy my hunger, you may offer yourself as my evening meal. Or-” His hand pushed under the silken fabric, sliding it off my shoulders “-You may feed me with your... flesh.”

The way his coarse voice dripped over the word, there was no question what he meant by that. I could almost feel his desire, radiating in waves off his body like the flames gave off heat.

“... I have a different offer in mind.” I told him, glancing away briefly.

His hands slid over my bare shoulders, the warmth of his palms making electricity zip beneath my skin. He pushed more of the thin robe down, exposing the tops of my breasts. I kept my arms firmly wrapped about myself, but otherwise stood still, waiting. It all hinged on this. Everything I wanted, everything I had planned for.

“Most of you take the first option,” He said, as if he had not heard me, “Some sort of pride, I suppose. Purity of heart and all that.” His hands traced greedily up my neck, and he cupped my jaw in them, tilting my head back to face him. “Every now and then, one will choose the latter,” His grin grew wicked, “But I suppose when I send them back, the Mother Superior finds an alternative method of disposal.”

My stomach rolled hot with his words, and I clenched my teeth. My already very low opinion of the woman sank further. His thumb traced my cheek again.

“And my offer?” I pressed quietly.

He grinned, leaning down. I had to blink rapidly as the light from his flames grew almost too much for my eyes to bear. His breath was just as hot as his fires, and splashed across my face as he spoke.

“What do you offer, little lamb?” He replied, sounding more than a little amused.

“A deal... A new deal.” I said.

He dropped his hands, taking a step back and studying me again. The humor in his face had faded a little, but the smile still tickled the corners of his huge mouth.

“I’m listening.”

I swallowed hard, straightening up to my full height. I still barely reached his waist.

“You will grant me all the power you grant Mother Superior, and more. You will be at my beck and call, mine to command,” I told him, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt, “And in exchange... You will walk the earthly plane at my side... And I shall satiate your hunger myself.”

His toothy grin returned, nearly splitting his face in half. He turned, walking a few feet away. The ground seemed to warp and lift around him, rising up to meet him. It was strange, for though I didn’t see him bend down, suddenly he was lounging on his elbows. Laying with his back on the ground.

“You would satiate my hunger?” He echoed, and his dark eyes narrowed, “..All of it?”

I slowly followed him, until I stood at his feet. My eyes skimmed over his muscular torso, down to his bare hips. His manhood was bare for me to see, and it seemed intrigued by my offer. Returning my gaze to his grinning face, I dropped my arms slowly, letting the robe fall to the ground. Standing naked before him.

His tongue reappeared, licking his lips. He bent over his knees, reaching up. I hesitated only momentarily before I placed my hand in his offered one. With a gentle pull, he lay me over his torso. His privates pressed into my stomach, and his legs wrapped around me. I bent my knees, curling against him and propping myself up on my elbows to look up at him.

“You would be at my beck and call... and I would be at yours.” I assured him.

His tail flicked back and forth like a cat’s as he considered this. One huge hand reached out again, touching my face. Skimming down my shoulder. Tracing over my collarbone.

“I can taste your hunger,” He almost moaned, “As palpably as my own... such greed, such desire...” He licked his lips again, “It is... delightful...” Another coarse, rumbling chuckle. This time I felt it in his chest beneath me. “Yes,... I do believe you would keep me well fed...” His hand moved down the small of my back, tracing over my hips, and I felt him hardening against my stomach. “In more ways than the one.”

“So we have a deal?”

Again he bared his pointy teeth, his black eyes crinkling with his smile. “Yesss, lamb.” He confirmed. “We have a deal.”

“How does it work?” I asked him warily, “Is there a contract? Terms to sign?”

His hand came back to my face, cupping it. “Just a kiss, lamb,” He purred, “And everything you desire shall be yours. I will be yours to command. After you feed me.”

I couldn’t help but glance at the flames engulfing his skull. “... Will it burn me?”

The demon pulled me up, bending down to meet me halfway. “It burns some. But you? Never, my lamb.”

I closed my eyes as he pressed his lips against mine, tasting of ash and sulfur...

I had a lot of fun making this picture and writing up this story. I like it so much, I might do a follow up. Especially if there’s interest in it. Please like and reblog if you enjoy this! And let me know if a follow up story line with a bit more... juicy parts is needed.

UPDATE: Find the continuation HERE

[clumsyclifford]

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

-

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype. 

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) ��� the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.” 

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not. 

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

-

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw. 

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out. 

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

-

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.” 

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

[cinnabuntastic]

What your favorite ME moment

It's really hard to pick any just one, so I'm going to go with one from each game to make it easier on myself. This isn't a comprehensive list, but these all hit me for different reasons.

Mass Effect 1

The Standoff with Wrex on Virmire

This moment really marked a turning point for Wrex as a character, and in Shepard and Wrex's relationship as a whole. Up until this point, Wrex had been vocal about his lack of caring for the fate of the krogan people, but now he's presented with something he never thought possible: a cure for the genophage. He is willing to risk his alliance and the connection he's built with this human who went out of their way to try to get to know him, to understand, to help free his people from a horrific plight. And he does so fast- the moment he hears there may be a cure. It cuts through all his blustering up until that point. He cares, deeply, about his people. He's just never known what to do. The confrontation can go horribly wrong if you're not prepared, or if you haven't helped him reclaim his family's ancestral armor. But played right, he'll back down, understanding that this cure will not help his people- only turn them into mindless slaves willing to die for Sovereign's cause. And if you're like me, it opens up the future for him... the salvation of the entire krogan race. Seeing him step up to become a leader to his people in light of this is fantastic.

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

Mass Effect 2

The Fate of Rael'Zorah

Real talk, Tali is my baby and I'm biased, but there's something so poignant and painful about what happens to her, and it wouldn't be half as effective if it wasn't for Ash Shroka's brilliant voice acting for Tali throughout. The moment where you find her father's body, and she breaks down, angry and scared and sad, it drives home that Tali is still very young compared to the rest of the crew... and in a society where families can only have one child due to space and supply constraints, she's a girl who's just lost the only living family she had left. There's a lot of really sad moments in the mission as a whole as Tali tries to reconcile the man who raised her with the man who performed horrific experiments on active geth, and seeing what Rael'Zorah's experiments wrought. But you also see that he was desperately trying to make sure none of his work affected his daughter. That moment where you find his body still tears me up every time I play through it. Despite how distant her father was, both before and after her mother's death (iirc it's never revealed what happened to her mother, either), despite her feelings about him and always wondering whether or not he loved her, finding him dead hits with this awful, terrible pain that lands hard. His last message reveals he did everything for the daughter he never felt he could get close to, and it's a pain almost too real to watch.

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Mass Effect 3

"You did good, child."

I have a lot of feelings about the ending of Mass Effect 3, most of them pretty negative, but few things will ever hit me harder than Anderson's words as you sit together in a moment of stillness, all while the apocalypse rages on around you. "Come here. I'm proud of you. You did good, child." Keith David is a stellar voice actor as it is but he just nails a grand slam with this scene, and it's a moment that feels like a long time coming. Anderson has believed in Shepard from the start, without any hesitation, and it's not hollow. He wastes no time, even with his last breaths, telling this young person who's been through so damn much trying to save a galaxy that half the time thought they were out of their mind... that if no one else, he sees the worth in someone who is worth it. It makes Anderson's death just heartbeats later hit even harder. His death, like Mordin's earlier in the game, feels right. It feels earned. He's an old soldier, and he's stuck it out, but like Shepard, he's fought hard against a tide of people who didn't believe them until it was almost too late. Shepard's story felt like it should've been just beginning, sure, but that's a grouse for another time. Anderson's, from the novels to the comics to that moment, felt like closing a book. And it hurt... but despite the tears, I always smile when I hear those words.

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Honorable mentions to Thane's loyalty mission in 2, Mordin's death in 3, and the joy that is Wrex fussing over Tali like he's her grumpy old dad in 3's Citadel DLC.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothred Ch. 2 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 2: Bonding

Summary: You’re slowly accomodating to living in your new household, but getting close to your partner is harder than expected.

Warnings: Self doubts, maybe.

Words: ~1600

Song used: Rise Against - Hero of War

Story Masterlist

The following weeks were uneventful, considering that you weren’t allowed to leave the Zoldyck property at all.

Since you were now considered a Zoldyck, a great deal of people would now see you as their target. An easy one too, because you weren’t even half as strong as the rest of the family.

Some would even go as far as to say you’re now Illumi’s weak spot - even though your husband was confident in his ability to protect you.

Anyway, you would need to spend your days on Kukuroo Mountain until the head of the family evaluated you to be strong enough to defend yourself even without Illumi at your side. Only then you’d be allowed to go on missions again.

Even though you had all comforts one could wish for, it was pretty boring in here with no one around except for this unsettling distanced family members. Most of the time they’d just mind their own business unless it’s about work.

There was also the crippling feeling of uselessness plagueing your mind. You tried to compensate for it through your efforts, though.

You and Illumi were living in the main residence, of course, yet had a wing completely build solely for the two of you. It was just like a small but luxury apartement, with a great bathroom, kitchen and whatever else one would need.

Especially the balconry was to your liking. You prefered to spend your time there, simply enjoying the sounds of nature.

It was a day like all the ones before, with you trying to pass time through educating yourself. Might be useful somehow.

You immediately heared a crack of the main door, jumping up from your seat to greet him.

Illumi had been away on a mission for three weeks already, and you just couldn’t wait to see him again. You stopped yourself in front of him, knowing close physical contact was discomforting to the man.

“Welcome home, master.” Just as you were about to take a bow, Illumi brought his hand to your chin and lifted it once again.

“No need to be so formal” he spoke, and you had to admit that the stoic sound of his voice had somehow become calming to you. “I’m your husband now. Just call me like you did before.”

“I missed you, Lumi.” You had just realized it yourself, yet had already blurted it out aloud. How embarassing...

“Oh? That’s good, I think.” He tapped his chin like he’d always do to muse aloud, trying to cover up that this much affection overstepped the limits of his emotional capability.

Trying to change the topic, you just now remembered the heavy storm that was raging outside. “You’re dripping wet!”

“So?” He tilted his head in confusion, still standing at the entrance as you wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

Hunger, cold, sleep deprivation, pain...

Even though none of these could hinder him from functioning, you assumed the feeling was still bothersome. The cold could still affect him that way.

For a second, you had to laugh at yourself. Worried, about him of all people? Ridiculous.

“Take your clothes off” you demanded, a warning finger swirling in the air. “I’ll run you a bath.”

In his free time, Illumi seemed even more like an empty shell. You could say he was pretty boring, even.

But it was fun to teach him all kinds of new stuff - things he was never able to experience or enjoy. Could he even feel something like that?

Since Illumi was raised to be absent of any hopes or desires, he obviously didn’t follow any hobbies either. Except for work, training and the well-being of his family, nothing seemed to be of real importance for him.

So he’d simply shrug it off, following your orders since he had nothing better to do anyway. “As you wish.”

When your husband stepped into the bathroom you had prepared for him, the air was scented with a floral fragrance. You even had lighted a few candles, enveloping the room in a dim light.

It was hard not to stare at the slender man, but you peeked a time or two: His porcellain skin was covered in several scars, and he was more muscular than you had imagined.

In an unconventionalway, he looked like a piece of art.

“Come on in!” you cheered, gesturing towards the perfectly warm water. As he sunk down into the tub, you chuckled at how stiffly he was sitting inside. “Lean backwards, like this!”

You adjusted yourself on a chair next to the bathtub, beginning to gently wash his hair. “Close your eyes” you cooed, gently massaging his neck before running your fingers along his shoulders.

And after a while, his rigid body slowly began to relax - a small feeling of achievement blooming in your chest.

Picking up a comb from the edge of the sink, you began to run it through his silky hair. It almost made you fuming again about how he once wanted to cut it off, because it was ‘a hindrance in battle’.

Yet you couldn’t help it, for the calming atmosphere made you start singing out of a whim:

“A hero of war Is that what they see Just medals and scars So damn proud of me And I brought home that flag Now it gathers dust But it's a flag that I love It's the only flag I trust”

Illumi’s eyes opened slowly, dark orbs pinning you as you detected some kind of wonder in them. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yes?!” The closeness you had craved so bad had you forget about who exactly you were trying to indulge.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” Now where did that question come from?!

"Huh? I- umm...” You began to stammer, frantically scanning your mind for an answer. “Because I like you, I guess.”

You didn’t dare to say love - not yet at least. Maybe someday...

“Mhh. I see.” Illumi turned his head away and closed his eyes again, almost as if zoning out. “I knew you were clinging to unnecessary sentiments, but I didn’t think they’d go this far.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? You didn’t know, but somehow felt offended.

"And why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?”

You just couldn’t help but pitying yourself right now. Of course you were sparring as much as your body could handle, yet at the moment all you could provide for your husband were kind gifts and actions.

“I thought I already made myself clear: You’re an extraordinary individual, and I thought you to be a fitting mate.”

Wow.

“You must be tired” you murmured as you softly rubbed his temples, trying to change the topic.

How stupid of you to think he was actually capable of feeling such a complex emotion - and yet you were disappointed.

“How odd” Illumi suddenly vocalized his cogitation, then falling silent again.

“What is it?” you inquired as you patiently encoated his hair with a towel.

“How very odd” he repeated once again, seemingly overchallenged.

No use in talking this over, huh...

“Let’s get you to bed” you chanted, still all friendly and he wondered why you’d bother yourself with things he could easily do himself.

Truth be spoken: Illumi Zoldyck would most likely forget to eat or clean himself way longer than necessary. Taking basic care for himself was just not present in his mind, and more than often he’d do it pretty sloppy just to get it over with quick.

Wrapping the heavy blanket over yourself, Illumi’s stiff posture was a huge contrast to the soft bed. Only looking at him made you uncomfortable.

And yet: Sharing this bed together, you were glad that he gave you the freedom to decide when you were ready to, well...take the next step.

There was no need to hurry, he once told you. Since you were now all his.

Even in the dark you could spot the emotionless black pit that was his orbs. But you saw something different: You liked to imagine the universe in them, and the brightw stars to be only hidden from plain sight.

“How do you feel?” you spoke softly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time anyway.

“Indifferent.”

You didn’t expect anything else, to be honest. “Well, I’m grateful.”

“What for?” Sometimes it felt as if he’d only fake interest, but even that you were happy about - because it gave you hope that at least somehow, he was trying to make you feel home.

Maybe you were just imagining things, though.

“Oh” you started, giggling shyly. “Many things: That you stepped into my life, for example. Chosing me as your partner. Or simply for you coming home safely, and that you’ve let me spoil you a little.”

The absence of an answer made you think he already fell into a dreamless slumber, so you decided to give him some rest. He probably had a harsh mission and right afterwards you had clung on him, almost as if he was a social experiment.

This whole day probably was a little much for someone who had never felt a single pleasant bodily contact before.

Little did you know that your husband was still wide awake, yet deeply buried in thought.

Yes.

Your presence seemed to be beneficial in other ways than practical, he concluded.

But how exactly? He was unable to put it in words.

Yet the rest of the evening, his mind was fogged by your lingering touch and the memory of your soothing voice.

To Illumi, the power you had over him was more dangerous than Nen itself.

___

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[katsukis-sad-angel]

Based on a True Story

Summary: there's this boy who makes you super uncomfy and doesnt take a hit, but you're to sweet to tell him to back off. Katsuki Bakugou, the more blunt end of the friendship, is happy to tell him off and free you from that sorry bastard.

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: possible tw, a lot of swearing and some pretty colorful insults, there are guys that are really fucking creepy, based on the actual events of February 7th, 2021 at around 10:30 pm

A/N: this was very very rushed, I just wanted to write myself some comfort real quick and go to bed last night and I didn't have time to properly edit! I'm really proud of some of the banter lmao, please enjoy and never be afraid to punt a ballsack! I'll add tags later🙄🙄🙄

A message popped up on your screen and your once neutral expression went sour. Slamming the face of your phone onto your pillow, you groaned angrily into your bedspread, catching the attention of a certain ash blonde sitting in your comfy desk chair a few feet away. Katsuki Bakugou, one of your best friends, gave a questioning glance but refused to meet his ember gaze

“What’s your deal?” He asked, not letting his genuine curiosity as to why there was such a pained look on your face, show.

You opened your mouth but paused.

Katsuki already knew about this boy and scolded you every time he saw his name pop up in your notifications, telling you to ‘fucking block him already’ for the umpteenth time. It wasn’t like you had feelings for the guy anymore, you were just too nice and polite to cut him off completely and tell him to go fuck himself.

The ash-blonde had already volunteered to do it for you, but you always said no because you knew he’d just find another way to contact you.

“It’s that piss baby again isn’t it?” 

“Yeah…”

“Wow, did you just agree with one of my insults?”

“Suki, I’m about to take you up on your offer to tell him to go fuck himself.”

He snickered, “Now you’re talking sense. What the hell is that pansy bitching about now?”

You sigh and roll over on your back and Katsuki moves to sit on the edge of your bed.

“I cut him off for a while, I really did! It felt so good to be free of him, but then he got my number again and started bothering me a few days ago. I saw him at school yesterday and told him I wasn’t interested in dating at all and he was like whatever so I honestly thought he could keep it in his pants and we could just be friends but nooo! He calls me a simp for anime guys, I tell him to stop being a hypocrite because he used to simp for me and he was like “I still do. You’re the only one” yeah like I’m stupid enough to actually believe that!”

You paused to catch your breath, but before you could start speaking again Katsuki interjected, “Well, you are stupid…”

You socked him in the bicep and he hunched over laughing. You looked so fucking adorable when you got royally pissed at him.

“Oh go to hell.” You snapped, crossing your arms and continuing, “Anyway, this guy used to simp for my goddamn sister! Not only do I reject being a replacement for her, but if she rejected his sorry ass, that means he’s a huge piece of shit because she’s super picky.”

“I might’ve mentioned that once or twice-”

You punched him again to shut him up. “Plus he’s super creepy and gross and it always feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes and whenever he’s around I want to dive into a pool full of only chlorine and drink it. I’m just trying to coexist and just be nice to him but apparently, a female looking in his general direction means that they want dicked down by his micropenis. He’s so fucking dense too. Why can’t he see that I’m not interested, especially after I EXPLICITLY told him that?!”

By that point, you were on the verge of frustrated tears, bottom lip trembling just slightly with bottled up emotion.

Katsuki could see it.

You felt trapped in something you never signed up for and you’d do anything to get out. All of this frustration had been stored inside of you for so long and it just kept mounting and multiplying until you burst into tears.

“Goddammit, come here dumbass,” He growled, gathering you into a warm embrace, “You can’t keep all this bs inside okay?”

He let you sob into his shoulder, one calloused hand supporting the base of your neck and the other crossed firmly over your back so you’d feel safe and secure; away from the world full of horrible people and into a small one of just your best friend’s warmth and the sweet sweet scent of caramel.

“Why don’t you listen to me? You’re just too fucking nice to every shitty dickhead that sees you as an easy, fuckable target. Something really fucking bad is gonna happen to you if you don’t shape up and learn how to punt a dude’s excuse for a ballsack and tell him what you really think.”

You raised your head from the solace of his shoulder to look at him with big, reproachful doe eyes and whimpered, “I tried that!”

“Have you tried punting their fucking balls first?”

“No… that would hurt.”

“That’s the point.”

“But if I did it without reason I could get suspended or charged with aggravated assault!”

It was Katsuki’s turn to sigh.

“That’s not the point dumbass, the point is that you need to tell these bastards off when they start getting creepy. You know what? Why don’t you just fucking ignore their sorry asses in the first place!”

You sniffle and drag a hand over your cheek to dry your tears, then resume your position with your face in the crook of your best friend’s neck.

“I feel bad for them.”

“Well stop. I’m gonna call him now alright? After that, we’ll block his stupid ass on every fucking app, you hear me?”

You nod and hug him tighter as he leans forward to grab your phone and opens it with your passcode, swiftly finding his name in your contact list and pressing the call icon, then he tapped the speaker button and waited.

The call was picked up almost immediately and a voice on the other line said, “Hey cutie! I was just about to call and ask to see if you wanted to come over on-”

“She’s not here.” Katsuki cut him off with a dry snarl, “And last time I checked she wasn’t interested enough in your sorry ass for you to be calling her ‘cutie.’” 

You could almost hear his lip curl in utter disgust.

“Who the fuck are you?” The voice asked, dropping its sickeningly sweet tone to something more appropriate in light of the previous insult.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend you dickwad-” You popped up from your haven in surprise, mouth open to sputter in protest but he put a finger to your lips and smirked, “who the fuck are you?”

“No fucking way that whore has a boyfriend-”

“Ex-fucking-scuse me? Shut your mouth, you mother fucking pussy, insult her one more time and I’ll fuck you up so bad you won’t be recognizable by the time you get to the hospital.” He snapped back, “She’s crying right now because you’re too dense to realize she doesn’t want any business with some horse-faced piss baby like you. Take the hint right fucking now you useless bastard so you don’t make the mistake of coming near her again because I. Will. Kill. You. Delete this number because she’s too sweet to block you herself, but I will.”

“Fuck man, I was just tryna get laid. She’s the one who started rubbing herself all over me-”

“I said delete this number. Damn, you are a dense piece of shit aren’t you?”

“Hey, I-”

Katsuki pressed ‘end call’ and blocked his contact, moving from Instagram to Snapchat, to any social app you had, and blocked him left and right until he was satisfied.

“Feel better?” He asked softly, tossing your phone aside and peeling you off.

You carded a shaky hand through your hair and wiped your eyes, giving him a watery smile and a nod.

“Why did you tell him that we were in a relationship?” You asked, voice on the edge of a taunt.

“To make him mad.”

“I mean, it worked, but is that the only reason?” You giggled.

“The hell are you insinuating?”

“Do you… possibly by chance… have feelings for me?”

You batted your eyes at him and he retched, but the smirk was still present on his handsome features.

“What’s it to you?”

You squirm a bit, but something pops into your head so you can stall a bit longer.

“I mean, you’re not THAT ugly-”

He responded with a simple, harsh flick to the forehead to make you whine and try to whack him, but he easily intercepted your fist and pushed you on your back, caging you in nothing short of a horizontal kabedon.

It was your turn to smirk, “Yenno ‘Suki, I could very easily… oh what was your phrasing? ‘Punt your fucking balls’ in this position…”

“Just shut up and tell me what the hell you want.” Katsuki snapped.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You prod.

“You look like a pissed hamster when you’re mad.” He shot back.

“You smell like a fucking candy store after training.”

“You’re the dictionary definition of a dumbass.”

“You have a better hourglass figure than Yaomomo.”

“You're quickly becoming an extra.”

“Date me.”

“Fine.”

“Wait really?”

“It’s the only way I can kiss you, protect you, and keep you all to myself.” He shrugged, leaning in dangerously close, “You don’t fucking understand how hard it is to watch you prancing around with one failed abortion after another and watching you cry because they leave since you don’t want the one thing they’re after.”

“You’ve always been there for me ‘Suki… I guess I just took you for granted, and I’m really sorry.” You met his soft vermillion gaze with a meaningful and apologetic one and reached out to squeeze his hand.

“‘S okay. You’re mine now, right?”

You nod, smiling. 

“So it doesn’t matter how dense you are anymore.” He smirked, laying down on your bed and dragging you down with him so you were tucked comfortably under his chin.

You grabbed the remote and flicked on the tv, preparing to turn on an anime you had in mind.

“What romance garbage are you inflicting on me this time?” Your new boyfriend groaned, burying his face in your hair.

“One that’s super sappy and romantic and sad just to piss you off.” You pouted, clicking on each letter to form the desired word in the search bar.

“Have fun with that.” Katsuki snarked, beginning to move away, but you stopped him by deftly pressing your lips to his.

You slowly pulled away, blushing furiously, but happy to feel strong forearms snaking around your front and crossing over your stomach.

“I certainly will.” You respond.