#I KNOW I take some liberties but like??? just block me. you don't have to send this shit.

[dootznbootz]

You've been blocked so you won't see anything I post. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ You're safe from my fanfiction now. I literally tag my own silly shit with a different tag with #shot by odysseus so it won't go into the main stuff. You don't HAVE to see it. And AGAIN! This isn't constructive criticism!!! You're just saying you don't like it!

#You won't technically see this either but honestly if anyone following me feels the same. you can leave??? #I'm not forcing you to be here. or if you DO just like my essays. then just look for those?? and ignore my fics??? #I KNOW I take some liberties but like??? just block me. you don't have to send this shit. #my essays AND my fics are MINE and a part of me and I'll post them. #thank you to all who say nice stuff to me :'D I know most folks won't like what I write but I've got folks that I care about #who like it and that's what matters. :D Also. I'm having FUN #ask #technically??? #i don't know. #I deleted this as blocked but also if anyone feels this way?? unfollow me??? block me??? just stop :'D #anon #I really don't wanna turn off anon as I love my shy homies (have some anons I still have to answer as well! :D ) but seriously wtf? #Especially after I reblogged my fic today??? #Fuck it. Ima go write. brb

[shojizbae]

Rave Baby

Spencer Reid x Reader

After a long case, some of the team pitstops at your apartment, and Morgan takes the liberty of searching through some memories. He comes across some scandalous photos that light a fire in Reid.

This last case was challenging. To make it worse, the power had gone out in DC due to a blackout. With a chirp, I told the team that I always had a generator and that we could cool with some coronas in my fridge. Hotch had declined, stating the necessity of returning to his wife and son. I had thrown open all the windows and cranked the AC, attempting to push out all the hot air. With my permission, Derek had distributed beers from my fridge and found a bag of chips.

A battery-powered radio was located, and my CDs were run through to find something to unwind with. With a sigh, Emily sank onto my couch and sipped her beer.

"Uhh, I can't tell you how nice your apartment is."

"Yeah," JJ groaned from the corner, holding her hair up and sticking her face in the AC vent. Derek was still looking through my belongings when he came across a Scooter CD.

"Well, well, well, where did a girl like you find this type of music?" I looked at the album cover.

"Oh, that's from my college days." I tried to dismiss it. This isn't the sort of stuff I would share with my coworkers.

"Really? Let's go ahead and pop this in."

"No don't!" I tried to launch it at him before he could open it, but it was too late. A few photos I took the night I bought that CD slipped into his lap.

"Woah ho ho!" Spencer, who had been content to sift through my shitty romance novels, peaked his head up like a prairie dog at the sound of Derek's chuckle. "What do we have here?" He held up one photo, and I hid behind my beer bottle.

"That was years ago," I whined

"What is this?" Spencer came to the group, attention fully peaked

"It's (Y/n). At a rave." Spencer snatched the photo out of Morgans's hand like a cat but Emily nearly yelled

"Shut up, let me see." she slammed her glass bottle on the table and grabbed one of the photos from him

"No way," JJ stated, following Spencer into the circle to look at the evidence. "I could never imagine you at a rave. I've seen you get upset that you left your clothes in the washing machine."

"They'll get moldy," I whined

"Holy shit. Where was this?" Emily inspects a photo of me in a bikini, fluffy leg warmers, and a matching bucket hat. "Look at your butt where were you hiding this." She makes an attempt to check me out, but I sink further into my couch

"I don't know, I was never sober in the 72 hours around a rave."

"Oh yeah? What did you take?" Morgan begged

"All sorts of crap, mostly hallucinogens. My rave mentor told me music is better when you're high."

"So why'd you stop going?" Emily asked

"I grew up."

"You grew up?" JJ asked, putting the photo on the table

"Yeah," I rubbed my hands up and down my thigh and sighed. I wasn't entirely ready to trauma-dump the team, but here I was. "My uncle, who basically raised me, passed on Thanksgiving in the sophomore year of my bachelor's. Hallucinogens made it easy not to grieve, and loud music blocked my ability to think. I would dance around and tell everyone that 'tonight was the night,' and I was 'finally free,' but I would just see him after a while. He would ask me, 'Why are you doing this, my dove?'. I couldn't ignore him anymore, so I just stopped. Put all my teeny bikinis in a box and put it past me." I cleared my throat, realizing that I had put a damper on the mood

"We could play the CD. I think I'll still remember the rhythm." I switched in the discs and let the synth radiate through my living room. Immediately, I felt the groove, letting it carry my limbs airily around me. I felt myself disconnect as the beat continued to pump. Before I could drift away wholly, Emilie's voice brought me down to earth.

"You packed all this away? That means you still have it?"

"Yeah, in a box in the back of my closet." before I could discover my mistake, she darted to the back of my apartment, and JJ took off with her.

"Oh hell, I gotta see this." Derek got up and dropped the last of the photos. Reid dutifully packed them up and sifted through the photos, stopping on one.

"What did you find, Spence?" I crawled toward him slowly. I gasped at the photo. My Rave mom, Zoe, who was only 4 months older than me, and I were posing together. He sifted through the images with it and stacked them. I gasped at the image. The photo on the top was of Zoe throwing up a peace sign, showing the neon pink paint on her palms, and a green hand was playfully on my throat. Both of our bodies had been splattered with neon ain't, but noticeably, I had two big hands brink on the triangle bikini we wore. One pink, one green.

The picture below was of Zoe and I very dramatically kissing. Zoe had made smudged hand prints on my ass. I had a leg up on her hip, and you could see drool and lipstick around each other mouths.

"I hardly even remember that night, and I thought it was trendy to act gay." I pulled the pictures from his hand and returned them to the case. "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Why are you apologizing? Y-you had fun."

"Yeah, but you're my colleague. This is embarrassing and you probably are ashamed of me."

"Actually, I'm jealous. In college, I had no friends and didn't go to parties. I was, I am, a loser. You had fun."

"Did you not hear my spiel about using drugs not to think?"

"Yeah, but you were hot." That shocked you. He was only two beers deep, and Reid was spilling his secrets.

You laughed in shock.

"Spencer, you can't say things like that." I slapped at his chest playfully.

"WELL!" I could hear Derek's strained voice. "This!" he put the giant plastic tub on the floor next to us. "This is one heavy bucket of slutty clothes."

"I want to try something on!" JJ greedily popped the snaps on the cover. With giggles, JJ and Emily started pulling out bikinis that looked like they were made out of spider webs.

"Woah ho ho!" Derek giggled, holding up a low-rise thong. "I hope you wore a jacket."

"Alright, that's enough!" I grabbed it from his reach

"Hey, could I borrow one of these?" JJ asked. "Will has been asking for something new."

"Yeah, but don't borrow it. I don't want it back." I made a face of disgust

"Yeah, I might want to just wear one around my apartment?" Emily held something balled up

"Take as many as you want. I won't wear them again. I should sell them. I could finally go on vacation."

"Woah woah woah, if you sell these, what will you wear on vacation?" Derek joked

"Clothes." I snatched another piece of hosiery from him. My knees cracked as I stood and got another beer from the kitchen. "Now, get out of my panties." I swatted him with the bottoms as I walked by

by some stroke of God, the lights flicked back on, and across the street, I could see the surrounding building come back to life.

"Well, I've got to get to my house before my ice cream spoils." Emily stood and collected a few pieces of fabric.

"Yeah, and completely unrelated. I have to call Will." JJ juts out her lip in an admission of guilt. They snuck out the door, giggling and tucking crazy fabric in their bags.

"I should get going too, wonder boy. You need a ride home?"

"No, I should be fine. There's a train in the next hour." Reid was still immersed in the photos.

"Well, don't bug her too badly." He left with a wink

"Why are you still looking at those? They're ancient."

"The date on the back says 1998, making you 20 years old. You're 28." Finally, he puts the photos down. "I'm having a hard time picturing you going to a rave. You only read sappy novels from the seventies. I saw three copies of Tuck Everlasting on your shelves." All the talk from my coworkers and the five beers in my system made me more than angry and bold.

Stupid ideas were my biggest export when I was inebriated.

"Well, I know the FBI has kept me in shape. I'm going to my bedroom and try these on." I gave a coy smile as I took a handful of sets and strutted off to the back of my place.

"W-what do you mean you're going to try them on."

"I've gotta see if they still fit."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #raver girl

[icallhimjoey]

All Goes South

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader, angst, mentions of smut

Author’s note: Wee woo wee woo! Last part alert! The 2004 film that inspired me was First Daughter (and I guess, that means Chasing Liberty too). Some girls got it shockingly fast and my inbox is full of messages of girls guessing correctly, so well done! Hope you all enjoy this last part!

Wordcount: 5.5k

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Mistake.

That was a mistake. All of it. You. You were a mistake.

“Yea, well... we’ll see,” Joe could hear your voice echo in his mind. He’d seen it now, and desperately wished he could unsee it all.

In the car on the way to Joe's film premier, he stared out of the window with wide eyes, a hand covering his mouth, brain buried deep in thought. In shock, because what the fuck had just happened?

"She was just doing her job, mate... I don't know what to tell–"

"She's an undergrad." Joe interrupted, voice stern, not blinking, eyes still staring. You didn't have a job.

"Yea, she's interning for Victoria. Josephine helps her out a lot too... she'd been given an assignment, and... fucking aced it, if I'm being honest, so Vic's gonna offer her a job,"

Joe then turned his head, looked at his manager and felt something snap and recoil inside his head.

Joe's manager saw, and immediately jumped to your defense.

"We needed to get you out there, Joe... you were calling in sick left, right and center - we asked if you if minded an intern joining the team, you said you didn't mind, so an intern joined the team. I don't know what to tell you..." 

Joe tried to ignore it, looked away, eyes trained out the window, worked away the tears that built in his eyes from sheer anger, and got his phone out to distract him. Pretended he wasn't trapped in a car with someone defending you, standing up for you, after the most devastating thing ever had just happened to him.

"You fucked off to the toilets again, and were in there for, what, twenty minutes? She asked if she could try something, and Victoria told her to do whatever because none of us were getting through to you, we tried everything, didn't we? Josephine said she'd get Victoria to hire her right after her internship if she could manage to get you to stop canceling on everything... we were at our wit's end,"

Joe's breathing grew heavier, and if his fingernails were longer, the palms of his hands would've bled.

"And she fucking nailed it, didn't she? She did a stellar job. Got you out there. Got you smiling, all... I don't know, all happy? Paid your bills–"

"Don’t."

So close to breaking, Joe only had to say that once to shut Alex up fully. Knew if he would've kept going, Joe would've broken down completely. Would've started crying for real, and Joe didn't know if he'd be able to stop himself if that were to happen.

A silence took over, Joe's mind reeling, and then, he blocked your number.

What a fucking mistake, how the fuck could he not have seen it? Could he not have puzzled it together? He couldn't actually believe it. This was taking humiliation to a whole different level.

He tried to make sense of it, but couldn't for the life of him.

You'd eavesdropped on Joe's meeting at that restaurant you said you used to work at. Made it sound like you weren't with them, with him, at all. They'd been lies. Lies by omission, maybe. But still fucking lies.

You'd shown him out that backdoor, and then he'd asked if you wanted to join him, like an idiot, and Joe realised, that was the first mistake he had made. He remembered all the phone calls and the texts he'd gotten that night from his team. Had you not received any?

The second mistake was banning chat about work. Would you have told him if he hadn't swiped the topic off the table? Would your silly round of questions have involved work-related questions? And would Joe have learnt then that you were part of the team of people he'd ran away from then?

These were questions he knew he was never going to get an answer to.

He could think of so many more mistakes. He should have never let you take him over to Swingers, should have never taken you over to Duck & Waffle and should have never insisted on taking you home.

And you had fucking warned him too, hadn't you?

Joe closed his eyes, absolutely livid with himself as he realised you'd actually warned him. You'd been so hesitant, had said, "I don’t want to make mistakes," which then lead to Joe taking full responsibility for all of the upcoming mistakes the two of you made. Why did he do that? What the fuck was actually wrong with him?!

But it was never fully his fault.

Because Joe didn't know.

Joe had no idea.

Joe could blame himself for a lot, but the biggest mistake was the one that you made. The biggest mistake was the information you'd withheld. The purposefully vague explanation of your internship, the exclusion of any details of what it really was that you did. That was all on you.

Joe angrily puzzled things together in the silence of that backseat. Things sort of started dawning on him. Started making sense a little more. In hindsight, Joe felt like a fucking idiot because hadn't it all been so fucking obvious?!

You'd been very jittery a lot.

Very nervous.

Would almost succumb under a pressure Joe never fully understood, but he had wanted to be so helpful, so supportive.

Was it all fretfulness to be found out? To run into someone who was going to tell Joe? Tell him that the girl he'd fallen so hard for - fuck, he was in so fucking deep - that she was lying to him? Is that what that stupid bouncy leg was all about? The clammy hands? Those fearful eyes?

Joe realised he'd bitten through his bottom lip when he suddenly tasted blood.

Shit, he fucking loved you. He realised it then and there and wanted to smash in the windows. The whole thing was a disaster.

The taxi pulled up outside of the office where Joe got changed into a fancy looking suit. The office was just around the corner from Leicester Square anyway, so he made it perfectly on time. Didn't look anyone in the eye, though. Not until he stepped foot onto the red carpet.

Joe smiled at people behind the barriers.

Joe smiled at the wall of photographers.

Joe smiled at the people holding microphones.

Joe smiled at his coworkers, at his costars, at other celebrities.

Joe smiled the whole time.

Yet, it never reached his eyes.

Joe loved you, and you'd gone and fucked it all up.

Once people started making their way inside, Joe was pulled aside, and then, was told to go home. He looked awful, like he was on the verge of a mental break down. But then Joe said,

"Oh no, I'm staying." and turned into a real bitch of a man.

"This is important, isn't it? Can't skip my own premier, oh no, this is the type of shit you come and get me for, right? The big event that I definitely wasn't allowed miss out on, just, had to be dragged from a date–" Joe closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose in frustration. He didn't like that he'd just called that a date.

"I'm staying." He finished, but as he said those last two words, he was already walking backwards.

"I'm staying. Because you need me out here, right? Need me to stop canceling on everything? I'm staying. I'm fucking staying." and then Joe stretched out both his arms with both middle fingers raised, and left.

Joe sent an e-mail to his team from the car that drove him home.

"Taking an indefinite leave of absence. Please direct any and all questions towards Alex, he'll assist."

And then, for the next two and a half weeks, no one managed to get into contact with him. They tried - you tried - but Joe dodged all calls, blocked various numbers, and let all e-mails go unanswered.

He needed time to think.

Joe granted himself the break he needed a long time ago, got drunk more than was good for him, spoke to his mum and dad a bunch, and cried when he found the toothbrush you used in his medicine cabinet.

All for a fucking job.

And sure, Joe had seen your flat, had seen the way you lived. Had heard you wish for a real job, one that would pay you enough to move to a different place. One without a messy flatmate, and one with a gorgeous bathtub.

But still.

Joe couldn't get it out of his head.

Couldn't accept that in such a short amount of time he allowed himself to fully love someone that could do such awful things to him.

Couldn't accept that he loved you at all.

And that he missed you.

Fuck, he missed you so fucking much.

Joe dreamt about you a lot. Somehow couldn't shake your face in his sleep. It found him every time, and each morning, it took him real convincing not to call you. Not to reach out. Not to pretend that nothing bad had ever really happened. He had to actively remind himself that you pretended you were something else to get him to do his job.

He just hoped not all of it had been pretend.

Some things had to have been real... right?

Joe dreamt and reality-checked for days, until time settled things. Anger settled into sadness, and sadness dulled over time.

Joe was never mad at his team. He realised they were all nice, kind people who wanted nothing but the best for him. So when, after seventeen days, Joe's manager decided to stop by to check on him, Joe didn't hesitate to let him in.

Alex didn't come over to talk Joe back into work, but after a short catch up, apologies exchanged, Alex suggested for Joe to stop by the office. Not for any meetings. But, just to come by and see everyone. Joe's team cared about him. They wanted to know if he was doing all right.

But the chances of running into you made Joe hesitate.

Alex immediately took back the suggestion when Joe didn't really respond to it. "Take however long you need, mate, no rush,"

Joe blinked and smiled, but it was sad.

"No, no, it's just... I can't run into her," Joe confessed, and immediately knew he shared too much when he saw his manager's face scrunch up in confusion before it turned into a frown.

"Were you dating?"

It was as if the penny only just dropped for him then, and Joe thought, why else do you think I reacted the way I did, you fucking idiot? Didn't say that, of course. Instead, he stared at a fixed spot on his kitchen island and said,

"I think it was somehow more than that,"

Alex frowned deeper.

"Didn't you only meet like, a month ago?"

"Yea," Joe's eyes grew but remained fixed on that same spot. "It was a second nature sort of... instinctual thing. Makes it all worse, somehow,"

The fact that all of it was based on lies, Joe meant.

A moment of silence passed where neither man said anything, and Joe let his mind drift off, thought of your face for a little bit, until suddenly, he cleared his throat loudly and then Alex slapped his own legs.

"Well," Alex said before getting up, and finding his jacket to sling his arms back into. "No need to worry about running into her at the office,"

Joe looked up at his manager, blank faced.

"She concluded the internship, and then didn't take Vic up on the job offer, so, you know,"

"Hang on," Joe placed a hand over his eyes for a second, now his turn to be confused. "She didn't take the job?"

"Probably for the best, isn't it? Seeing as there... was something, between the two of you," Alex gestured vaguely, unaware of how this little piece of information derailed just about, um, everything.

You didn't take the fucking job? What the fuck?!

Alex saw Joe tap impatient fingers on the counter as his eyes darted around, clearly calculating his next move. He was about to say something, but then Joe said, "Thanks, Alex," before redirecting his attention to his phone.

You put plates down onto a shelf and rubbed the back of your hand over your brow when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You weren't meant to answer, but you couldn't help sneak a look at who was trying to reach you. When you saw, you thought for a second you were making things up.

That said Joe.

Joe was calling you.

Without even checking if any of the guests could see you from where you were stood, you answered.

"Joe?"

"Where are you?"

It took you a moment to register Joe's question, his tone of voice, and the urgency with which he spoke.

"I'm..."

"Where are you?"

"I'm at work, Joe. What's going on?"

"Where's work?" Joe sounded impatient and was loud, practically screaming down the phone. You heard keys jingle and the bang of a door slamming shut.

"I- I got my old job back, at the restaurant... Joe, are you all right, what's wrong?"

But Joe'd already hung up. You texted, "I'm working til close, do you want to meet after?" but the text bounced. You were still blocked.

You spent the next however many minutes eyeing the entrance of the restaurant like a hawk from behind the bar as you absentmindedly twirled a dry wineglass in a dry towel.

What the fuck was going on? Why had Joe called you? Why did he need to know where you were? And why did your gut feeling tell you that something was terribly, terribly wrong?

You watched the entrance and twirled that wineglass, long dried by now, until you convinced yourself that Joe wasn't actually going to come over to see you.

Then suddenly, you saw him.

But he rushed past the windows. Power-walked right by the restaurant without glancing inside.

Shit.

The back door.

You put the glass back on its shelf and hung the towel neatly on its hook, before stepping into the kitchen.

You already heard it then.

Loud, rapid banging, unmistakably from both of Joe's fists that hammered the door urgently.

The loud banging stopped when the door opened a little at first, and then a lot, as you fully pushed it open.

Joe was there, panting in the alleyway, and he looked unwell. Pale, eyes red-rimmed, and harshly underlined by dark circles. He looked broken in a way you hadn't been able to even imagine him, and it stabbed you right in the center of your heart.

Joe looked awful, like he hadn't slept in weeks, but above all else, he looked fucking furious.

"Joe," you croaked, barely a whisper that had to compete with the loud noises coming from the kitchen behind you.

Joe's face was like an open book, so expressive, which was just the worst. You saw everything. All of it. His outrage, the humiliation, the clear desire to inflict harm, upon you, you imagined. All so recognisable, so familiar. You wished you couldn't see any of it, but you could. Joe wanted you to, and it made the guilt that had camped out in your chest for weeks now grow to a new size.

It instantly made you want to burst into tears. It was painful, but you understood you deserved that.

Joe didn't move. Just stood there, breathing heavily, looking at you, and you understood this was going to be it. Joe was going to get all of it out. Confront you about everything. Make you feel horrid in new and different ways, and even though inside the restaurant it was busy and you had a job to do, you decided that this was more important.

Joe was here to end it.

Okay, you thought definitively. If Joe needed this, you were going to bear it. It felt like the least you could do.

"I'm taking five," you shouted over your shoulder, and you stepped outside, letting the backdoor fall shut behind you. Now it was just the two of you in that grimy alleyway where you remembered Joe asking you to come with him weeks ago. When it all started.

“Hi,” you said on an exhale when the silence dragged on too long. It felt stupid, but you didn't know what else to say.

Joe faced everything he’d been afraid of facing. His heart broke and leapt for joy all at once. He'd missed you. So much. Seeing you in the flesh made it undeniable which was really fucking annoying. You'd hadn't even known each other for two months, and hadn't even seen each other for over half of it. And yet, he had missed you so, wanted nothing more than for you to collide with each other in this moment, because even though there were so many things he was mad about, he really fucking missed you.

Joe's throat swelled and his expression faltered slightly. He swallowed hard, not fast enough for you to not see it, but he hoped you didn't notice the softness within him that he still kept for you. 

The air between you was sweltering despite the low temperatures and for a moment, you allowed yourself to close your eyes. Geared up for whatever Joe was going to throw at you. Gathered what you needed and made more room in your chest because more bad feelings were going to have to fit in there.

"Look at me," 

You did, but immediately wished you didn't. You could see how devastated Joe was in close-up detail, all of the inner turmoil that bubbled up inside him, and you kind of wanted to self-destruct. Wanted it to hurt you, wanted that punishment - anything to make this inside ache go away.

Joe took a long look at you and held your gaze and fuck, it was really difficult to not look away. Then he drew a deep, angry, close-lipped inhale and finally said, 

"You didn't take the job?"  

Joe spat the words at you accusingly, eyes narrowed, facial expression one of pure disgust, like it was the worst thing you could have ever done to him. You frowned a little, confused, because that wasn't what you expected. But he was right, you didn't take that job. How could you have?

"Of course I didn't," 

Thing is, that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Joe didn't want to hear about how you had taken the moral high ground. He didn't want to hear the explanation you had ready from the start, one that hadn't changed throughout the weeks, hadn't really transformed into anything deeper. 

You looked at the person that you loved, and then hurt so viciously. 

"How could I have?" 

Joe glared at you, anger building and starting to spill out, sort of like he couldn't believe what you were saying. You thought it made perfect sense, though.  

"So you made me go through all of that for fuck all?" 

Joe gestured wildly, took a step back and started pacing. You could practically feel the anger exuding off of him. It was so heated - hot enough to burn you, if you weren't careful. 

"Made me question everything for no reason? Why? Was I not worth it?"

There wasn’t much more you could do but show your defeat. Stand still. No movement. Just, sad eyes. Let Joe know you never meant for any of this to happen, even if you understood that it was your fault that all of it had.

"Joe, I'm sorry," your brows knitted together. You were sorry. Would tell him a million times if you needed to. But you also knew that it was never going to be enough. You'd clipped Joe's wings and were now telling him, oops, shouldn't have done that. Like that was going to fix anything.

Joe then whirled around, arms held out wide, like there was an audience. 

"What does that even mean?" 

You went cold all over and could feel tears welling up as you frowned hard. 

"It means I wish I didn't fuck all of it up–" 

"You didn't take the job!" Joe interrupted loudly, making you flinch, before he continued speaking on a more sensible volume level. "You didn't take the– she didn't take the fucking job," Joe kicked against a steel bin, made the lid go flying which crashed hard against the asphalt. You flinched and saw Joe place both hands behind his head as he stared down the alley towards the main road with wet eyes and a red, blotchy face. 

"You didn't take the- you decided to lie to me for weeks, fucking weeks, and then... for what?" 

You distantly felt tears spilling down your own face, but couldn't focus on anything other than Joe who seemed to slowly, kind of... lose it. Lose himself, in real time, right in front of you.

He couldn't even look at you. Fuck, he thought so many things, but most things died in his throat because, look at you. 

He fucking loved you.

The overwhelming need to comfort and care for Joe started filling up the empty spaces in your chest and it melted together with the guilt. It made a scolding, hot, thick mash that boiled your lungs.

You took a single step forward. Wanted to take Joe's hurt away and slot that shit into your own chest where it belonged.

"Joe," 

You reached for Joe's hand, but got his arm instead. You took it. Would take what Joe was going to give you. Joe let you hold his arm with plenty of noticeable distance between you still.

"Why did you do it?" Joe's voiced cracked right down the middle, all filled with hurt and complex anger. The eyes that watched you seemed a little cooler then, that fiery heat simmered down a little.

Your eyes moved between his in a long gaze that pleaded for forgiveness you knew you didn't deserve. Your mouth was dry as you began to speak, and you croaked, "How could I not have?"

Joe scoffed, rubbed a palm at his mouth and looked away from you. It was the space you needed, the distance the loss of eye-contact granted to get all these dangerous feelings out. 

"It.... it was magic." you sighed, and saw Joe crumble, his head fully turning away from you as you moved memories to the forefront of his mind. 

"It was so beautiful, Joe. It was real, all of it was. We went and flew south together, and it was never meant to be more than me getting you out of that meeting... I just wanted to get you out, give you the break you so desperately needed. They were all saying it, how you needed a break. And I risked my internship because it almost felt inhumane what they were making you do. I'd seen your schedule…" 

Joe impatiently shook a knee in and out of over-stretching, and you knew it was because they were difficult words to accept. You watched Joe's face scrunch up, brows knitted together, and he was completely open. All vulnerable, all real. Nothing exaggerated.

"You lied to me," Joe's voice sounded like it was made of glass, and you instinctively ran a hand down his arm to clasp his hand. To your surprise, Joe let your fingers intertwine and squeezed your hand impossibly tight, desperately clinging on.

It might have been a moment of weakness from his side, but that would be fine. If Joe was to snatch away his hand in a second, at least you, got to hold his hand for that single second. It was more than you deserved, you were well aware.

"I did," you breathed heavily, closed your eyes and lowered your head. Accepted that Joe had seen the worst of you. "I did and I am sorry, I should've told you right from the start, but then–" 

"But then you didn't," 

You let your other hand reach up to cup his cheek, and Joe immediately leant into it, closed his eyes and granted himself this little moment of closeness.

"But then I didn't, and now..."  

You didn't need to finish. 

A silence followed, and for a second, your mind went back to where you were. You were in the alleyway behind the restaurant you worked at - currently were working a shift at. Any minute your manager was probably going to come out and get you. 

"And now you didn't take the job," Joe finished your sentence for you, and for a small moment, you thought he was going to step away. Let go of you. Walk away without looking back.

But he didn't.

Instead he blinked tears into his lashes and looked down as he let the hand that wasn't holding onto yours play with the ties of your apron that was wrapped around your waist.

This wasn't the end.

"I'm so sorry," you repeated yourself as you blinked tears down your own face, your hand now sliding down Joe's chest. You tried to hold yourself together as much as you could, and then promised, "I'll do whatever I need to do to make this right. I fucked up. This is my fault."

Joe let go of your hand and brought both hands to your waist before letting his forehead fall against yours.

"You should've taken the job," Joe whispered before sniffing thickly, exhaling wetly through his mouth. "It would've made it all so much easier,"

Had you taken the job, Joe could've just let hate take over. Slot you into a box labeled terrible people alongside others that wronged him in his life. But now it was all fucked up because not taking the job meant something to Joe.

Mistakes.

They were all mistakes.

And people... people made mistakes. All the time. Never intentionally. Mistakes were never intentional.

Joe felt you shake your head a little against his, and your bottom lip trembled, but you sounded surprisingly solid when you said, "Taking the job would've meant losing you. I'd rather lose a job than destroy every ounce of a second chance I know I don't deserve,"

Little did you know that the minute Joe learned that you didn't take the job, you'd been granted all the second chances you'd ever need. Joe found himself suddenly made from second chances then, all of them individually crafted specifically for you.

That's when Joe's arms wrapped around you and he pulled you into a hug that made your knees nearly give out at how much you wanted it. Your arms slung around his neck, and Joe pressed his face into yours. It was all wet.

When he spoke again, his voice was muffled but rough, not angry but strengthless. "You're all I can think about, no matter how hard I try not to." He burrowed deeper, gripped harder and you felt the shudder of a sob as you pressed your full body against his. "I've only known you for like, a second, but I can't stop thinking about you,"

Fucking hell.

You were in the alleyway, hugging each other tightly after weeks of hatred and humiliation and guilt and regret, and you were both crying.

"I'm sorry," Joe whispered when he collected enough breath to shape the words, and his words took you off guard.

"No, this is my fault," you reassured.

"I'm sorry," Joe said again, and it made you move back enough to take careful hold of Joe's face. You had to dip your head to force eye-contact, to make him look.

You wanted to tell him he didn't need to be sorry. You wanted to say he had nothing to be sorry for. You wanted to let him know again that this was all on you. You wanted to repeat your words until they didn't feel like real words anymore.

Instead Joe leant in and kissed you.

He came in harsh, and it was deep and intimate from the get-go, his tongue in your mouth and coaxing yours into his, his breathing erratic from crying, lips and tongues smacking - it was fucking obscene, but so easy to drown into. It was wet, and salty, dried tears mixing with fresh ones, all dramatic, drenched in pent up emotions that had built up for weeks. 

You let Joe maneuver you back up against the brick wall, which scraped harshly against your skin and hurt the back of your head, but you didn't care. 

Joe's grip on you strengthened as did the pressure of him pushing himself into you more, like he was working out deep-seated anger, which, yea, kind of checked out, and you made a noise that sounded so stupidly fragile, you had to pretend it wasn't you who let it slip. 

There was no need for pretending, though. Joe had already swallowed it, and responded with a moan of his own. 

Joe was kissing you, none of it gentle but instead violent, and breathless, and you didn't want this to end, ever. Wanted Joe close forever. 

Joe pulled back enough to ground out, "Up," as his arms curled around your backside and with a little hop, you were up in a powerful hold. You immediately locked your legs around Joe's waist and without a single inch of separation between your bodies, Joe sighed deeply into your mouth as your fingers scraped into his hair on either side of his head.

Close.

You could feel Joe's erection bulging tightly in his jeans.

This is what you meant when you said that it was magic. You belonged in Joe's arms like this. This was a thing of pure beauty. This was the earth pulling the moon. The moon pulling the oceans, creating high tides Joe didn't really know what to do with. You were ethereal. This was everything.

This was birds escaping their cages, leaving the cold weather for others to deal with, flapping wild wings, and flying south.

Birds escaped their cages when the backdoor of the restaurant swung open and interrupted you. You were asked if you were going to come back inside since you were on the clock, and Joe said, "No, she’s not." You looked at Joe, all confused, still held up in his arms and pressed against that brick wall and asked him, "I’m not?" It wasn’t enough to make Joe laugh, nowhere near, but you could see a little smile that only lasted a second. It was the first stretch of wide wings, feathers reaching out, finally free of constrictive confines.

Birds left the cold weather when you woke up in Joe's bed the next day in the early morning sunlight in the nude, soft limbs tangled, hearts singing and healing, and he smiled at you before telling you he just got off the phone with his publicist. The job offer was still standing, and if you wanted it, Joe thought you should seriously reconsider. "You’d make such a great publicist," he said. "Not yours," you carefully joked, and he laughed, "No, not mine."

Wings flapped wildly and took you up high into the air when weeks later, you were talking to a client in the kitchen at the office and Joe walked by but stopped to blow softly into your ear before carrying on. A tease, a sure-fire way he knew he was going to make you blush and get all flustered. You only raised a quick shoulder to it, powered through, facial expression unwavering, and the person you were talking to had witnessed these types of things between the two of you so often, they didn’t even acknowledge it. Just kept your conversation going as you both heard Joe chuckle to himself before he entered a meeting with his team.

You flew south, crossed borders into warmer weather when, about an hour later, you saw Joe wait for the elevator after his meeting and you decided, as payback for earlier, to quickly join him for the ride down. You joined a couple of other people, and then when the doors closed and everyone stood facing the same way, you placed a warm palm over his crotch with a straight face and Joe had to close his eyes and bite his lip to make sure no noises would slip out. When the doors opened again at the ground floor and everyone filtered out, the two of you remained and Joe whispered, "This is not the same as blowing some air into your ear," and as a reply you squeezed, and Joe couldn’t wait and so didn't wait for the doors to close before he launched himself at you.

Joe'd been right when you'd first met: lone birds were bad luck.

These two birds were flying south and there was no fucking way one was going to leave without the other.

One for sorrow. Two for joy.

And it was beautiful down south. Blissfully gorgeous. Warm, and soft. Tender, and fun. Real. It was all laughter, all scalp-scratches and pure, utter, sheer magic.

It was magic.

the end

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #all goes south #icallhimjoey #part 5

[mysteryshoptls]

Episode 5-68 Rhythmic Lyrics

LET'S TAKE ON THE VDC!

Absolutely Beautiful

Vil: I'll help get rid of that fragile spark you have.

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Vil: Would you like some sweet poison? I wonder if it will suit your taste. Everything is within my grasp, that is absolute.

Jamil: Ah... this fluttering feeling inside my heart. Epel: Someday, that apple-like red color will rot away.

Jamil/Epel: No one can surpass me. Jamil/Vil: That's right, strength is not the only thing I have. Vil/Epel: You should have the ability to make them all kneel too, right?

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time!)

Jamil [rapping]: The thorns entwine, the clock turns. We're being watched, with that cold gaze. Silently, subtly, we get cut down, we get made fools of. Play it safe, no way to be saved. Boom Boom Bloom, suffer the blows. Boom Boom Bloom, bad steering. Whether that heart is real or fake, Only the gods would know.

Epel: Ah... Deep in the darkness, there's guilt. Vil: That guilt becomes the bitterest nectar. There's no changing it.

Jamil/Epel: Don't forget Jamil/Vil: That's right, I am absolutely everything. Jamil/Epel: I have strength to fight, even if I can see the end coming.

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The craftiest) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time)

Vil: This beauty of mine... I will show it off forevermore.

Jamil/Epel: No one can surpass me. Jamil/Vil: That's right, strength is not the only thing I have. Jamil/Epel: You should have the ability to make them all kneel too, right?

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (Jamil/Vil/Epel: The very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (Jamil/Vil/Epel: It's Show Time!)

Ace/Deuce/Kalim/Rook: Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Absolutely Beautiful (Translyrics)

Under the cut, the following English lyrics should match the Japanese lyrics fairly well. Some liberties have been taken to make the rhyme and rhythm work, but stays true to the core of the song. It may take a few listen and read throughs to sing it just as I've envisioned it. I've also spaced them out slightly separately from the original written lyrics in-game to help with figuring out the beat.

Your fragile radiant spark, I can help you to, Make it all disappear.

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

Would not some sweet poison satiate? I hope you find it suits your taste. Now everything is on my plate. You should know That this was no mistake.

Ah… feel the way my heartbeat does sway. Someday, like the red hue of a ripe apple, It will decay.

No one compares at all to me. That’s right strength is not, The only thing that I carry. One day I’m sure that you will Make them bow their heads down before your feet, too!

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

[rapping] Prickly thorns entwine, the spinning hands of time Being watched no doubt, cold gaze I can’t block out Silently, subtly, getting slashed and torn, and looked down in scorn. No trouble is borne, no salvation is sworn. Boom Boom Bloom; only subjugation. Boom Boom Bloom; no good direction. Whether that heart is real or just another fake. Only the gods know our fate.

Ah… Deep in the darkness, guilt is derived And grows into the bitterest nectar. That can’t be denied.

Don’t you forget about me. That’s right, yes I am, All that was and all that will be. I have the will to fight on, Even if the end has already been seen.

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the most artful) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

My elegance, grace and poise… Will live on, forever more

No one compares at all to me. That’s right, strength is not, The only thing that I carry. One day I’m sure that you will Make them bow their heads down before your feet, too!

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful (It's the very best) No Chance to Beat us No one No way (It's Show Time)

Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No way No way Hey! So Absolutely Beautiful No Chance to Beat us No one No way

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #deuce spade #kalim al-asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #twst ace #twst deuce #twst kalim #twst jamil #twst vil #twst epel #twst rook #twst translation

[oddballwriter]

Suggestive moon boys... hmmm maybe the boys finding out the reader has a piercing 👀 and getting way too excited about it 👀

🔞NO PEOPLE BELOW 18+ BEYOND CUT OFF🔞

Violators get automatically blocked

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Warnings: mentions of reader having pierced nipples, nipple play mention (in Jake's part), and the Moon boys being h o r n y  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

You didn't specify what piercing but I'm just going to take some liberty since this is a suggestive requests and have it be that reader has nipple piercings because to be honest those are kinda hot to me.

Steven Grant

Listen this whole fandom is in agreeing to three things

Steven is a boobs/chest guy

Steven is easy to turn on and fluster

And that he's secretly a bit of a perv (optional)

So lets set the scene that you and Steven are at your place having a watch party date like watching a movie or documentary or whatever

You're wearing comfy and all that and also not wearing anything else under your shirt

You don't think anything of it until at a certain point you notice Steven looking at your chest and realize that oh yeah right you can kinda see the piercings through your shirt

You ask if he maybe wants to be them in case he's curious

He says yes, of course while read in the face because he was caught staring and now he's just going to see your bare chest for the first time

Steven looks at them in awe and asks the occasional basic questions like "Did it hurt?" , "How long have you had them?" , "Why did you get them?"

You two end up moving on and continue whatever you were doing, but it becomes apparent that Steven's gotten a little bit excited after seeing your piercings

You guys would end up getting to it, completely forgetting about what you were watching and you take your top off so that Steven can look at your piercings all he wants

He doesn't want to admit that your piercings get him off a little but... they do. They do a little something to him.

Marc Spector

Marc found out on accident, kinda

You were staying at his place but hadn't hooked up since it was the first time you had come over and he didn't want to push you into anything, your relationship was kind of new

You had taken a shower the night before and everything seemed will till the next morning he had gone to use the bathroom and saw two little metal pieces on the counter

He didn't really know what they were at first. They were small and oddly shaped to be earrings. And they didn't look like a belly button piercing.

It took him a second of looking to realize that they were for nipple piercings

He blushed a little and just acted like he didn't see anything

But after that, the thought of them sort of existed in his mind and soon became the subjects of his dirtier thoughts

He'd sometimes look at you while on a date and wonder if your wearing them now and how they actually look on you

Marc is knows that your aware that he knows that you have piercings even of you never said anything about it

He actually keeps it off topic even when you guys have sex for the first time because you kept you top on

It wasn't until he got to a point where he was dying to see them while you two are getting frisky again that he asks to see them

Marc is a grown ass man who can control himself but he busted really quick after seeing them

Jake Lockley

Slut (pos/derog at the same time)

He's a horny bitch, dude, we know this, this man fucks

It's okay that I'm calling him a slut

Anyways, yeah no, once he finds out that you have pierced nipples he wants to see and feel

If you show him your piercings and you DON'T start banging afterwards??? Miracle. Truly.

Listen the fandom doth spoken and deemed him an ass man, but he's a boobs guy rn if his partner has pierced nipples

I hope you like nipple play because he's gonna play with them while having sex now

I'm not even gonna spin a story for Jake because either way it's on sight

#moon knight #moonknight #moonknight x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant smut #jake lockely smut #marc spector smut

[bambi-slxt]

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢'𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠:

☁️ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✧ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

☁️ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✧ 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬

☁️ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐬

✧ 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐬! 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰

☁️ 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝

✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲

🤍 hi loves <3

🤍 my name is Bambi, i'm 19.

🤍 i write smut, fluff, and angst about the sturniolo triplets.

🤍 messages: 🟢OPEN🟢

🤍 inbox: 🔴CLOSED🔴 will re-open: 4/08/2024

please be specific in your requests, i want to make sure you get exactly what it is that you want!

🟢 "can you make a fluffy concept/headcanon for sweet!dom!nate and fem!reader's first time?"

🔴 "can you write nate x reader having sex for the first time?"

if your request is vague on purpose, i will take creative liberties with the final product.

i reserve the right to ignore a request i'm uncomfortable writing (but i don't foresee ever getting one of those 🤍)

🤍 i will occasionally create content that may be triggering for some readers. all work will be appropriately tagged, and if i missed a tag, please message me to let me know. my work is never intended to harm anyone or glorify dangerous, illegal, or otherwise unethical situations.

🤍 all warnings will be included at the beginning of every work, and warnings that i feel deserve more attention will be in large print and impossible to miss.

🤍 please understand that while i will tag as much as i can, it's impossible to add a trigger warning for everything - if i mention orange jell-o in my fic and that's a trigger of yours, i'm very sorry - please quit reading for your own health instead of going through the end just to comment something hateful.

🤍 i hope you all enjoy my work as much as i enjoy writing it - stay as long as you'd like.

🤍 xoxo, bambi 🤍

rules:

~ updated as needed ~

🌸 i post smut. if that's not your cup of tea, have a good day. if it is, welcome!

🌸 i do not tolerate kink-shaming in my comments, messages, or any other form of communication on or about my work.

🌸 negativity or hatred of any kind is not welcome on my blog. this is a safe space for everyone.

🌸 all characters in my work that engage in sexual activity are 18 or older.

🌸 my account is not for minors. this is a blog run by an adult for other adults. i promise you that whatever you get out of my work will pale in comparison to an adolescence that isn't hypersexualized. brush your teeth, drink some water, and go to bed.

🌸 requests and dm's will open and close as needed - be kind to me and to each other.

🌸 lastly, if you don't like my work, you are free to explore the rest of tumblr. block and move along.

#bambi slxt #bambi yaps

[the-upper-shelf]

if you dont mind, how do you lay out your anatomy and stuff before ykw... you draw over it(?) also how do you do different face shapes, ive been having trouble with that recently. sorry if i asked too much

AGHH sorry!! It took me so long to reply to you ;_;

References are the key! If I have a pose in mind, 90% of the times I'll be searching for a pose as close to it as possible (never take more than an hour to pick your refs though! It's easy to get lost in the internet rabbit hole)

So, let's assume I want to draw someone sitting (one of the hardest poses for me to this day. I hate legs)

Like this one from @data_CQ

Let's start analyzing it, shall we?

One thing that I learned and changed my point of view on references entirely is that you have to check the "empty spaces"! Especially if you're struggling with placing stuff like arms or legs.

Look! Triangles! And uh...other weird shapes.

Let's try to just draw the outilen of our subject here now.

Note: if you're a beginner I suggest to do this with a grid for the first attempts. Once you're confident enough you can try drawing without it :)

Not a perfect one, I know, but we still have blocked our character's position. With less details we can focus on their posture a lot better.

Now, this is the ugly part: construction! We live in a 3D world so all our body parts are tridimensional (obviously) and you probably already know this but torso, arms, legs and all that work exactly like 3D shapes.

...sorry. My sketches are always messy lol

I don't have the knowledge to try and explain to you how anatomy works, unfortunately. but there's a lot of tutorials out there with this method :)

In this phase I always take some liberty. Maybe I raise the head a little, change the hands position and things like that. I've never been good at copying, I have a very short attemption spawn lol

Clothes gets added once you've layed out your character nakey (ehe)

You can see how they wrap around the subject body's here. I honestly just...look at them and try to mimic them. After many many drawings you'll be able to figure it out even without references :) (though it's always good to use them)

There ya go!

This is a very fast tutorial and I hope it helps but PLEASE if you can, study from professionals because i'm just a smol cartoonist and I'm still learning myself. I know studying can be super boring but if you want a suggestion...use your characters ;) that's how I did it and it made it a lot more enjoyable.

If you have any more questions feel free to let me know, have fun drawing!

[lou-struck]

Gone Swimming

Lucifer x Mc

Tropical Getaway

~While on a trip with his brothers, Lucifer makes some plans to get you all to himself.

This little drabble is a part of my “I Want to Getaway Event” Check it out if you want to!

By the time you and the Brothers arrived at the private beach, you are absolutely dripping in sweat. You wouldn’t of minded it so much if you were the only person who was perspirating like your life depended on it, but the other members of your party are completely unbothered by the heat. Most annoyingly Lucifer.

Even when wearing multiple swimsuits, the Avatar of Pride is unphased by the heatwave currently incapacitating you on your trip to the human world's beaches. They are as rowdy as ever ditching their beach bags on the sand and running across the hot sand and into the water.

Unable to keep up with the energy of the men around you and go to cool off under the shade the private cabana Diavolo took the liberty of renting for all of you. Stretching out on one of the plush lounge chairs and enjoying the subtle breeze of the air conditioning on your skin.

It feels so good you sigh in contentment and let yourself relax deeper into the chair cushions. It feels so good, you could just stay there all day. Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the distant sounds of crashing waves and the occasional laughter of the Demon Brothers who have stolen your heart.

“You’re not falling asleep are you.” a deep voice says from the doorframe. Through the flowing white curtains, you are just able to make out the dark hair of Lucifer standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest in displeasure,

Upon seeing the eldest brother you spring to your feet, and smooth out the comfortable cushion you were just lounging on. "No, not at all." You say cheekily taking a step towards him.

“Then what were you doing?” he smirks striding over the birch flooring and wrapping his arms around you.

"Just testing out the chair," you say and lean back into him.

"You're a terrible Liar MC," he chuckles. "But I guess I can forgive you if you join me for a swim."

"I think that can be arraigned," you hum spinning out of his embrace and allowing him to take you outside.

"Follow me then," he says grabbing your beach bag from the wooden coffee table. "I know a place where the two of us can go where the others won't find us for a while."

The sun hits your skin ripping off the comfort the Air conditioning had provided you with as you try to make your way through the sand in your flip-flops. You step to make your way to the water but instead, he guides you to a small sandy trail through the lush greenery.

You know that he has a plan but you don't understand why you are taking this impromptu hike in the dead of summer. Curiously you walk on through the trees until a lone branch blocks your path. He gently brushes it aside to show you a scene that leaves you speechless.

~

The absence of the green leaves reveals a perfectly secluded cove, the blue of the water rivals the sky and it looks so enticing you just want to jump into its depths. The rocky border on its outskirts completely hides it from the rest of the beach with the exception of an underwater cave.

"Do you like our spot?" the demon asks with a look of triumph etched into his flawless face.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, suddenly afraid of destroying the tranquil scenery with an utterance.

Leading awestruck little you down the stone steps and onto the pinkish sand he places the bag down on a shady spot.

As he turns to head into the water you stare daggers through the waterproof material of his Swim shirt hoping that magically it would disappear. "Are you really going to keep that on?” you pout jutting out your lower lip and gesturing to the garment.

"Would you like me to take it off?" he laughs already going for the zipper as you eagerly nod.

In a flash, the garment is tossed past your face causing you to blink. By the time your vision clears Lucifer is already waist deep in the water. With a sigh, you wade out to join him taking your time to enjoy the feeling of the cool water on your warm body.

“It took you long enough mc,” he teases, “If I'd have known how slow you are in the water I would have thrown you in myself.”

“Oh Shuttup,” you scoff running your hands atop of the water to playfully hit him with a few droplets.

Oh no…

That splash was a lot bigger than you expected, the demon looks at you in shock as water drips down his face and messes up his pristine hair.

“Did you just splash me MC?” he asks calmly as you try to back away from him as slowly as possible in fear of retribution.

“N-no, I think it was a wave.” you lie, his black orbs staring you down as he reaches out to grab at you. You try to dodge but he grabs your arms gently and pulls you close to him.

“That’s the second time you’ve lied to me today,” he growls in your ear dragging you through the water and pressing you in his embrace. “What do you have to say for yourself, Human?”

“I’m sorry?” you squeak out embarrassedly.

A hand comes up to cup your cheek, " I believe I'll need more than a simple sorry MC." he laughs. His eyes taking in your wide eyes and parted lips.

Just as he leans in to claim the latter as his own an ear-splitting shriek comes from above as not one, but all six of his brothers rain down from the cliffside effectively ruining the moment.

Snapping out of your trance, you have a feeling Mammon is the ring leader of the chaos.

“Oi Lucifer,” the white-haired demon yells as he surfaces above the deep water, “What do you think you’re doing with MC?”

#obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me x mc #om! x reader #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x you #lucifer x mc

[thesweetnessofspring]

okay so since you've liked my post about the fake fic tag game, as my fav author of an on going fic, I shall bestow you with these tags: regency!everlark, bestfriend's brother!peeta (maybe madge's?), slowburn, suppressed tension, ball of the season just because i'm intrigued how you'll write some regency era with your creative writing style. Love ya!

Oh thank you, that is so sweet! And I love Regency!Everlark so this is fun! I did take a little bit of liberty with the best friend's brother, but given the language they used back in the Regency era, Madge would still call him her brother. And for those of you who don't know yet, this is from the fake fic ask game.

Title

Summary: At twenty-two years old and with no prospects, Katniss Everdeen's life is going the way of the governess, though she far prefers that work to marrying a gambler, cheater, or bore. Her dearest friend Madge Mellark, however, is certain that if Katniss comes with Madge and her husband to Town, that she can find her a match before Caesar Flickerman's end of the season ball. Katniss agrees to go to prove everyone--her friend, her sister, her mother--that there is no one who could tempt her to marriage. In Town, Katniss is not the only one Madge is helping search for a spouse. Madge's brother-in-law, Peeta, is finished with university and tasked by his mother to find a rich heiress to supplement the income of a second son or else be cut off from his inheritance entirely. Together, they enter a pact to protect one another from horrendous matches and obtain information about their prospects. Only when Peeta meets Glimmer Fairchild, a rich heiress with seemingly no flaw, does Katniss begin to realize that there is one man whom she could accept as a husband, but he could never accept her.

Excerpt:

Mr. Peeta Mellark stepped in front of Katniss, his stocky build blocking her slight one from the sight of Mr. Cato Thompson. She waited as still as possible until he continued past them, into the crowds of others at the assembly hall.

"This shall be the last dance of the evening, so you have successfully avoided Mr. Thompson," Peeta said. "I expect that in your diary tonight, you might properly credit me with the role of a wall you took vigil behind."

"Suppose I do not keep a diary?" Katniss asked, a challenging eyebrow raised up.

"Then in your letter to your dear sister," Peeta said. "For the way you speak of her, you must be writing her daily."

"I should, if your sister did not keep potential suitors in the drawing room all morning."

"Now that I am returned, we shall be sharing her attention on that matter," Peeta said. "So I am certain you shall have time to tell your sister of my usefulness to you."

Katniss observed Peeta and his somber expression at the turn of his mentioning the pursuit of a wife. She knew her disagreeable nature made the prospect of matrimony far from compelling, but what had he to fear? If he could speak with her all evening, then he could be happy with nearly any woman there was.

"The bonds of marriage coming on you too swift from the university?" Katniss asked.

"I have not ever feared that," Peeta said. "Except that my mother has in mind the sort of woman I am to marry, and our opinions on the matter do not match."

"Then I shall be your wall, as you are mine," Katniss cried. Then she looked down at her figure that had been called sickly more than once and and said, "Or, perhaps a fence will do?"

Peeta laughed. "Though your figure is small, you are stronger than any fortress, and I am grateful to your protection."

#fake fic ask game #everlark #regency!everlark

[dia-smthidk]

There's no there's no there's no there's no there's no supernatural aesthetic electrical thing and possibly could have slipped in the tumultuous way of the edit exchange roll go back to me bother it ready to let rent change it and get easy to go back to you both that are ready to deliver and change it and take integrity teenager I'm pretty utterly as limited questions that danger you're smart and innocent I'll continue to suspect you it's more intelligent sometimes helps users if since blood supercrafts knee reason or not you're an alternate where you can echo huh yeah I need you on you just don't bring it so it's got to get you on the spot I'll never get int your right entry until you add it yes so it is quite

Delete your bad suggestions somewhere around behind me in the background it's at Liberty theory it's hotter unless you're a hole in the clothes keep your house close at all times mind if you'll electronal opinion stands and mention it's an opinion you know how to use it now and long to go on it's a perceive of our journeys and avoid our smile is that I'm on here yours is the resource of 1 year later all second of all they get to do and they can't be like it opposes we can't be your blocking about you can't be both simposts you can't breathe outside posts and you definitely cannot be internet the city general electricity is also surely so talking about me or spatting out I didn't pull shed flebertary Potter bustling me under the contented in your mind she's

I mean if you have chores and that is the software here yourself to some self Terms & Conditions IO sells and I'll hurry up that's what we're buying and following it'll change those apes and buds to procrastinate reasons you're all in your lungs all I don't think black & white there is no shelter right here no wish for this no being bothered to like it one may not mean butterfly like a next month choose a science stupid that loves evolve the names of the old Tom's policy which he needs your sucking quiet on the internet you can't remember and back I'm back I'm going goes around goes around I'm going to go Jim comes you're on therefore I eagerly with your

tldr

#dia-asks

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for snitching on my brother?

Listen, my 19 brothers (all 200M) and I (200M) don't have the best relationship. After my Dad (over 50000M) and his buddy (3000M) created us in their lab, our mum stole us and passed us off to various adoptive parents on different planets, so we didn't even grow up together. As a consequence, some of us had it easier than others. Me, I had a great adoptive father. He put me through college and encouraged me until I became the actual second best wizard ever. By 18, I was pretty much the philosopher-king of our planet. I even had a relationship with my bio Dad longer than the rest of my brothers did because we found each other through magic and then used it to hang out. (He's the first best wizard. No biggie.)

Anyway, things were going great for me. Eventually, our bio Dad hosted a big family reunion and I got to meet my brothers. I was ready to make friends, but man, some of them were assholes. Well, that was fine. I stayed friends with the brothers I liked. I had a lot on my hands anyway, since Dad had taken the liberty of making 1000 sons for me, and none of them were freaking potty trained.

Did I use magic to potty train them? Yes. Did I maybe get the potty-training magic from a strange voice in my head? Well... Okay, yes, but consider that 1000 sons = a lot of potty training if you take the traditional route. I think it was a reasonable choice at the time.

Anyway, my sons were doing great, and the brothers I got on with and I began to set up this big magical training program so we could all teach our sons to be better and safer wizards. Sounds great, right?

Well, the asshole contingent of my brothers decided to haul us in front of Dad and point their fingers at us. "Wizards are bad and dangerous" they claimed, while one of them stood around surrounded by his own freaking wizards. ("They're not wizards, they're enchanters," my ass.)

I thought our bio Dad would side with us, him being the greatest wizard of all time and his buddy (I swear those two have something going on) being the third greatest after me. But no! He told us we needed to stop doing magic. Literally the one thing I'm good at. The one thing he made me good at. I'm the second best wizard in the galaxy, and he wanted me to sit on my ass.

Well, I tried. I mostly stopped. But come on, those assholes were definitely up to something. I started using my wizardry to surveil my brothers, and oh boy. The shit I found out. At first, I just sat back and ate popcorn, watching them pratfall their way through life. It was funny, what can I say? And I still stuck by the bros who had my back.

But then one of my bros, L, (unfortunately one of the ones I got on with) had the worst thing possible happen to him: He decided he had found God. By which I mean, he decided our bio Dad was literally God.

Seriously, our Dad. Sure, Dad is like 20 feet tall and glows with golden light, but when the glowing giant immortal wizard tells you he's not a god, you believe him. Unless you're L.

Dad's attempts to re educate him were... Misguided. As I said, he's not a god. But he went so hard that L flipped right the other way around and started to believe that our dad wasn't God. He was Satan, apparently.

And so, L went to our other brother H, who had a mad case of "first-child, I carry the whole family" syndrome, and started trying to convince him that our dad was Satan.

I tried to warn H that L was crazy. H just went "Lol okay" and went back to chugging L's koolaid.

H and L were definitely going to do something stupid, like murderously stupid. I needed to warn Dad, and it was urgent. I started calling, but Dad wouldn't pick up.

So I called him the way we used to talk, using magic. And what do you know, he had basically put up some sort of magical barrier which meant I couldn't call him that way either. I was pretty pissed off to see he had blocked me on so many levels.

And this is where I may be the AH.

See, that voice in my head that helped me work out how to potty-train the kids using magic? Yeah, it spoke up again. It suggested I break through the barrier. I figured Dad built it for a good reason, but I *was* strong enough and I was trying to save his life. So I broke in.

And then the voice's magical demons flowed into Dad's lab, ruining the amazing magical teleporter which he and his buddy had been building in secret. Turns out, the voice in my head was an ACTUAL god, the Lord of Change... And Dad had known all along. It was why he told my brothers and I that we had to stop doing magic. But he never thought to actually explain that to ME, so how the hell was I supposed to know I had a god in my head? He told us gods didn't exist!

Anyway, gods are real, but I still maintain that my Dad isn't Satan. He's just a really bad father.

He was understandably furious that I broke his experiment and let demons into his lab, but he yelled at me like he thought I did it on purpose. Plus, H was so mad that I snitched, he actually sent another brother (Mr. "They're not wizards") to burn down my planet. Like hell I was sticking around after that. After one last attempt to reach out to Dad, (which ended with my most gullible brother gaslighting me and then hitting me with a hammer) I went NC with pretty much my whole bio family.

I'm doing okay now. I actually ended up moving in with the Lord of Change for a while because at least he helped me potty train my kids and let me do wizardry in his spare room. Now I have my own planet and a sick wizard tower. It would be great if it weren't so dusty in here.

I still wonder if I was the asshole though. Don't get me wrong, I think the biggest assholes are my Dad, H, L, some other brothers I didn't mention, Mr. "They're not wizards", my oldest son who apparently can't keep the place clean, and a lot of my other sons who just kinda vanished one day. But maybe I could've done something else, like sending Dad a letter or warning my nicer brothers about H and L instead going straight to the top. So. AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

[onewomancitadel]

A smattering of general updates:

I played Tears of the Kingdom. I didn't really enjoy it. I understand why it was popular though; I'm just not the demographic for these types of video games anymore. I didn't find it creatively rewarding and after a time I sat there thinking 'I would rather be writing right now', and since then I have learnt that writing is made easier by doing things which are not writing, because it makes me miss it. My dad also doesn't really like it but for some reason has played hundreds of hours in it. I don't know either - I think he will take anything called Zelda at this point.

I spectated the Doctor Who David Tennant Special and watched some clips of the new season. I'm not a fan of RTD, and not a DW fan anymore (not for a long time), but it was an interesting study in how studios try to attract old and new fans.

I read a lot of books, and that lie people tell you about all books being good for you is a lie, because a cyberpunk anthology of short stories made me so angry I got heartburn. I think people who say that are saying so because they wish that they could read a lot, in which case I say, yes I think reading is a gift and we should engage with it, however, sometimes I get so physically angry from something stupid/bad I've read because bad writers exist that it gives me actual pain. I am reading Howl's Moving Castle right now and it's very joyful; I am very surprised by the liberties the animated film took! However so far I do think both experiences are worthwhile, and if you enjoyed the Ghibli film, I very much recommend checking out the original book if you want to revisit that world again. The prose is straightforward but a little whimsical, and Howl is very, very funny. I have laughed aloud a few times.

Well, you know I rewatched Dark, and it's funny that during my exile I said 'this is like if RWBY got the ending it deserves' and then, er, I found out it's not renewed yet, and that's still up in the air, which for the entirety of RWBY I have only had one true moment of doubt of such a thing, and that was a while ago.

On that topic, yes, I still ship Jaune/Cinder, believe Cinder's redemption is likely, etc., although there are some more external concerns I would wager now than before. Before I thought it very possible to do without any commercial influence, and it depends what compromises they do or don't end up making or having already made. My analysis of Jaune's arc in V9 may not hold water as much (e.g. if you lean towards the view there were rewrites to cater to growing the audience, or perhaps it's two ideas married? I'm not sure) so I'm going to think about it more, and there always has been a tension in RWBY between what is being expected/baited and what is foreshadowed/said/actually happens.

I figured out how to write again and what was blocking me, so there's that. To talk about it a bit more, since my break I have worked every single day on writing. My key takeaways are that you need a delicate balance of delusion and self-doubt to get anything done - you don't know you can do something until you actually do it - and every excuse I invented for not writing was not the reason I was not writing. I can write with a migraine beginning to set in on an uncomfortable desk where I can't even rest my elbows properly on the end of a bed with no back support without aircon in the middle of summer before I've even taken my hair out from bedtime plaits in my pyjamas. I didn't even expect to get my fic done right before midnight, actually I was like 'well lol that's not going to happen, I'll write anyway though, fuck New Year's' because I wasn't doing anything, and then I finished and looked at the time and was like ooooh. I actually completed my goal! So I'm very proud of that. Anyway writing is breathing, to me, I go crazy if I don't do it, no matter what it is, and every single piece of nonsense advice of productivity was not helpful, ever, but I did figure it out. Also admittedly I got a fire burning under me again because I found out I was actually right about Raven, in which case I took that as a sign from heaven I was on the right track. One should hope.

I am excited about Dune Part Two, yes, although I am trying to avoid Villeneuve talking about the film because I know all the marketing is basically directed at people who aren't Dune fans, and I have to see it for myself to see what it's worth. I enjoyed the first film, and Villeneuve seems excited to direct Dune Messiah, in which case I am willing to do whatever possible to make that happen. Because that's about as complete a story you're going to get in a major motion picture adaptation and it would be So Fucking Good.

#seraphina party hour

[elftwink]

been learning to play ironsworn (gritty fantasy ttrpg which you can play with a gm but is mostly suited for solo or small group co-op gmless play) after having the rulebook pdf for several years (stars finally aligned to remove invisible thing blocking me from reading it idk) because i'm on another solo ttrpg kick & i don't know what took me so long to get around to this game because it genuinely is exactly what i was looking for. years ago when i was playing through solo 5e modules i should have just been playing ironsworn (believe it or not, 5e isn't very suited to solo play and is extremely clunky when you try lol).

also though i have dabbled in some other solo ttrpgs, a considerable amount of them are journaling games which is fun but imo considerably more work (usually by the time i'm a quarter of the way through the journal entry, i know how to entire scene played out and i want to move on to the next gameplay thing, so i get frustrated and bored quickly. it feels like when you solve a level in a video game but don't have the coordination to pull off the necessary move so you have to spend 20 extra minutes doing something you already figured out), so i really appreciate like not needing to write something for the game to progress (ive been taking notes for my own record since im playing solo and thus am not really out loud roleplaying the way you do in a group, but i definitely could do that instead and not take notes and the game would still function perfectly)

& ive been playing by myself but also in the past ive played a lot of ttrpgs in very small groups which has been other games but is mostly dnd and like. we also should have been playing ironsworn so that having a gm was not necessary. have definitely played games where we had to adapt the rules soooo much to do something that is just base game included in ironsworn. plus it's rules-light enough to do pretty complex moves that pose difficulties in bulkier games (ever introduced someone to dnd and they tell you they want to do a sick backflip and catch something and then attack and you have to tell them that will require several different consecutive rolls and some creative liberties with how the rules are 'supposed' to let you move? you can just Do That in ironsworn. use the strike move and describe it. done!)

the one thing is that although it's rules-light enough to theoretically play any setting or genre (some with more difficulty than others), ive found so far that like... the grittiness and sense of threat is very built into the mechanics so that would be sort of difficult to work around or change (but i think it's great from a game design perspective). what i mean is like, okay: you start with 5 max hp. there isn't really a way to raise this max hp, you just slowly gain abilities (assets) that make you less likely to have to lose the hp in the first place, or that make it easier to recover. when you encounter foes, you rank them on a scale of 1 -5, and enemies on the lowest side of this scale do one harm to you, while enemies on the highest side do five harm to you. so even though encountering an epic enemy won't always be deadly due to the assets you have, they are ALWAYS capable of taking you down to 0 hp with one good hit. so the feeling of threat is much more present compared to games where your character starts to be able to just tank and push through a failure or huge threat.

admittedly also i'm playing solo, im still learning how to balance combat, and also i built a character who has NO combat talents and iron (the close quarters fighting stat) is one of my lowest stats so i personally am under much more threat than if you built a character who knew how to fight or who could do deadly harm. but also the other thing about combat is it's extremely difficult to maintain control of the fight; you have to score a strong hit to do it on basically all moves, and there's a really limited pool of moves available when you don't have the initiative, and obviously none of them really favour you. i don't know that this makes combat genuinely more difficult, but it does make you feel like the fight is always about to spiral out of your control. every second you let it drag without decisive action feels like it brings you closer to dying. like i said, this is a feature of the game design and not a problem in any way. just thinking about it because when i was initially learning i was going to try to supplant it into a homebrew fantasy world of my own but the tone just wouldn't be right. and that it is somewhat difficult to replicate the kind of worlds that i typically play or run for dnd, which tend to lean somewhat sillier and definitely much higher fantasy

but i like to try new things and tbh especially in dnd i find that i very rarely feel that sense of threat and when i do feel it, it has nothing at all to do with the actual mechanics and reality of the combat and everything to do with how well the dm sells it to me and makes it sound and feel scary and dangerous. which is a testament to what a good gm can do for you but i do appreciate the threat feeling more built-in and also being actually real.

#good idea generator #kas plays ironsworn #am giving it a tag because i will continue to talk about this. its my blog #idk i just find in dnd like. players often FEEL threatened WAY before they actually are threatened #which makes it really hard to balance combat because players treat evenly matched fights like hopeless death traps #so instead they do underleveled combat that feels boring for some hard to pin down reason #but like. the reason is even though you're nervous about the dm's description and the things the monsters can do #there is no real threat. especially in bigger parties where the players DOMINATE action economy. they are always in control #so of course it gets boring. it drags out so everyone can take their turn but it never forces you to make difficult choices #or to totally exhaust all your abilities. after awhile the combats start to feel same-y #because even if the monster is different. you never have to do anything different to defeat it #ofc this is a subjective assessment and also if youre reading this and we play dnd together this is not a gripe abt our table i love u #i think it's really easy to get trapped doing this esp in tables which like rp more than combat #because its also like. once you're used to a certain balance of combat if your dm suddenly threw you a big one #you assume that this is a uniquely large threat in the narrative as well (rather than a rebalancing attempt) #and treat it accordingly. which is to say with way too much caution because it isnt actually that big of a threat #so then as a dm when you have to maintain the feeling of threat and the mechanical threat #(especially when sometimes the mechanical line between 'cakewalk' and 'tpk' is razor thin #and is more about the initiative order and luck than anything else) #you start to prioritize the feeling of threat. which is imo the right call always #but its just after awhile when you feel the threat but nothing ever happens to anybody. the dissonance starts to affect the table #also balancing dnd combat as a dm is really hard and often requires a LOT of on the fly adaptation #because sometimes the CR is useless and you don't know how it's gonna do until the dice are on the table already #anyway. my point is that im enjoying how ironsworn handles this problem

[your-divine-ribs]

Ice Cold Part 8

Words: 2k

Ice Cold Masterlist Main Masterlist

The apartment was in darkness apart from the short corridor where I was currently stood, considering my next move. I turned my head, looking at the door I’d just walked through, wondering if I’d make it if I ran. The double-locked door with the added security of a safety chain seemed to taunt me. Installed to specifically keep people out, now it could well be my undoing for the opposite reason.

I needed a weapon. I scrolled through the options in my head. My handgun in the bedside cabinet... the knife block in the kitchen... the hammer and various other tools in my spare bedroom...

Like having a weapon has helped you the last two times! My mind seemed to jeer at me. And in any case, I didn't even know where he was lurking.

I was scared. And not just scared. Fucking petrified. My legs started to tremble as I stood in terrifying indecisiveness about my next move.

Fucking stay calm Lyla! You're gonna get through this. But you've got to get out NOW!

I suddenly knew that I couldn't stay and fight. Van was right, I was no match for him. I didn't stand a chance. I started to slowly back up, moving in the direction of the front door, my eyes darting to every doorway. Still nothing. Maybe I was imagining things. Maybe he wasn't really stalking me. Maybe he was just playing mind games by texting me, trying to scare me... I felt my back bump up against the door so I swiftly turned around to release the chain and the locks.

Then I heard it. Heavy footsteps behind me. I didn't turn straight away, as if not seeing would somehow make him no more than a figment of my imagination, but when he spoke I could no longer fool myself.

"Going somewhere Lyla?"

I froze again, hands shaking against the cool metal of the lock. I’d been so close, but now escape seemed like a distant concept. My fate was sealed. I took a deep breath, screwed my eyes shut, tried to muster up some kind of courage before I turned to face him.

He stood there at the end of the corridor, leaning back against the far wall with a casual stance, watching me. A small smile played on his lips, but his eyes were cold. Dead. Emotionless. I shivered.

"Why are you here?" I said, my voice wavering. It wasn't like Amsterdam where I’d been pursuing him. This time he'd come to me.

His smile widened as he pushed himself off the wall, taking a step closer. "I need something from you..."

He let his eyes trail over every inch of me, brazenly so, as if to say I was his to do with as he pleased. The thought shivered me through with fear but at the same time a spark of twisted desire, but I couldn't let those dangerous thoughts cloud my judgement. Not this time. I needed a clear head. He spoke again as he took another step.

"You know, I'm glad you didn't bring your boyfriend back. I'd have hated to get blood all over my new shirt."

He laughed at his own sick joke, pulling his long grey overcoat open to reveal the crisp white shirt he wore underneath. Then I watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his coat, pulling out a handgun.

"Kitchen... now..." he ordered, flicking the barrel of the gun in that direction.

I didn't hesitate, walking towards him and then slipping past him into the kitchen, already starting to mentally map out where everything was that could be used as a weapon. My heart sank as I moved further into the room and saw a pile of objects over the far side on the counter top. My gun was there, together with every sharp implement from the kitchen. He'd been thorough alright.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind," came his voice from behind me. "I took the liberty of making myself at home."

Van sauntered into the kitchen and pulled out a chair at the table, and I took a place as far away from him as I could, leaning against the cabinets, eyeing him warily, my heart hammering. He fixed me with an even stare as he spoke.

"I'm gonna need the names and details of all the agents currently operating undercover. And you're gonna tell me... if you know what's good for you."

Fuck. I tried to swallow but my throat felt tight, constricted. I gulped a gasp of air instead, let out a shaky exhale. But I didn't do as he demanded. I just looked back at him, maintaining his gaze, playing for time whilst I tried to fathom a way out of this seemingly hopeless situation.

His brow raised slightly, it was a look that asked 'are you defying me?' Well yes, I was. As frightened as I was I wasn’t going to back down. Giving away this information was as good as signing my colleagues' death warrants.

He sighed, placing his gun down on the table. "You’ve got a lot to learn darlin'... but that's okay. We've got all night. Be a good girl and do as you're told though, yeah? Make it easier on yourself."

He reached forward, picking up his packet of cigarettes. He slipped one out and placed it between his lips, lighting up.

"And if I don't?"

I saw a little spark of something dance in his eyes at my resistance. He was enjoying this. "You really wanna find out? I wouldn't advise it."

"If you think I'm just gonna hand that information over willingly, you're crazier than I thought."

He inhaled deeply, eyes on me, and his tone chilled me when he spoke. "I didn't say anything about willingly did I? Let's just say I have... certain ways of making people talk."

My thoughts immediately went to the interrogation crime scene photos I’d witnessed recently and a tiny whimper escaped me at the suddenly reality of it all. I cursed inwardly at my obvious display of fear, clearing my throat and straightening myself where I stood, trying to stand tall.

"Well you may as well just kill me now, because I'm not talking."

Van's lips curled into a smile around his cigarette. "Oh you'll talk sweetheart... they all do... eventually."

Then I saw it. Out of the corner of my eye on the draining board next to me. A wine bottle corkscrew. So he hadn't been that thorough after all. I let my eyes linger only for a split second before they went back to him. I could reach over and grasp it in a second but I couldn't be seen. I’d have to get him to come to me, then when he was close I could reach over and grab it whilst he was distracted. Plunge it into his neck. The thought horrified me but I knew I had to do this. It was kill or be killed. I couldn't let that moment of losing my head back in Amsterdam divert from the fact that I was fighting for my life here. I had to do whatever it took.

"Maybe we can make some kind of deal..." The words tumbled out of me, desperate sounding.

This amused him, and a little laugh escaped him as he tipped his head back and blew out a plume of smoke. He stubbed out his cigarette straight on the surface of the table and reclined himself in the chair, regarding me with those cold eyes.

"So... tell me. What on earth do you have to offer me in this so-called deal?"

The last word was emphasised in a sarcastic tone, as if to suggest I had nothing worth offering. And maybe I didn't. I was pinning all of my hopes on exploiting a weakness in him which might not even exist. But I had to try.

I took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself but my heart still pounded and my palms felt slick with perspiration. I surreptitiously wiped them on the sides of my dress before I slipped out of my jacket and reached around behind my back and up, locating the zip of my dress and pulling it down slowly, keeping my eyes on Van the whole time.

He stared right back at me, unreadable, not a shred of emotion showing on his face. My heart-rate increased and my gut squirmed with uneasiness. Maybe I’d got this all wrong.

The zip was completely open now and my dress started to slip from my shoulders. I suddenly panicked, hands shooting up to stop it, sure now that my feeble attempt to bargain with Van was all in vain. I dropped my gaze to the floor.

"Don't stop..."

I looked up. He was sitting forward now, no longer displaying his laidback brand of menace. This was something more urgent, darker. He looked poised and ready to pounce. His eyes were still cold but the ice was thawing.

"I said don't stop."

I suddenly realised how quiet it was in the kitchen, making my now ragged breathing seem all the more noticeable. Uncertainty gripped me, paralysing me momentarily.

"Come on Lyla... I'm not a patient man."

Van's stare was wholly predatory now, and apprehension coursed through me. Nevertheless I lowered my hands and the material of my dress slipped down, revealing my lace bra.

"Keep going..." Van urged, indicating with a nod of his head.

I looked down then, relieved at the respite from his gaze, but I could still feel his eyes burning into me as I began to peel the skin-tight dress over my hips and down my legs where it pooled on the floor. I stepped out of my heels, kicking the dress to one side, still keeping my head down.

There was silence and it seemed to drag. What was he doing? Inspecting the goods? And what was he thinking? I daren't look, afraid of what I might see in those eyes.

"Is this... what you're offering then?" His voice was low with no hint of the mocking tone that I was expecting.

Hope ignited in me. "Yes..." I breathed.

I started to inch myself slowly along the counter top, my hands behind me, until I felt the smooth metal of the draining board directly behind me. My fingers groped blindly until they touched the wooden handle of the corkscrew. It skittered away from my grasp just as I heard movement as Van rose up from his seat.

I still didn't look up, eyes fixed on the floor, hearing him approaching until I saw his boots enter my field of vision. He came to a stop a foot from me, and I noted he was holding his gun as I raised my head slightly.

"Are you frightened of me?"

The small shivers that wracked me must have given him his answer but I pulled a sliver of boldness from somewhere, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

"My whole life I've been up against men like you. So no, I'm not frightened."

He raised an eyebrow at my comment, nodded slowly, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You should be. This isn't the movies you know. No one's gonna burst in and rescue you. This is reality… and in this reality the bad guy wins. And I'm bad Lyla... real bad. Straight out of your fucking nightmares. You don't know what you're getting yourself into here.”

He moved forward again, and I felt the unrelenting surface of the counter-top press into my back. My fingers reached again, coming into contact with nothing.

My heart was thudding now, so strong I felt like it was probably visible under my skin. One last try.

Come on Lyla! It's not going to end tonight. Not like this.

I pushed my hand back as far as I could and my fingers finally came into contact with the corkscrew and quickly closed around it. It was all I could do to not show any kind of emotion at this little triumph, I just looked back at Van, my mind whirring, my body poised.

It was now or never.

#ice cold #van mccann fanfic #au fanfic #vanfic

[in-my-feels-probably]

hi! can you do an alden x reader relating to the whisperers? i give you creative liberty for the rest! thank you if you do it 🤍

Together

Request: hi! can you do an alden x reader relating to the whisperers? i give you creative liberty for the rest! thank you if you do it 

Hi! I’m so sorry this took so long to get out, thank you for being patient. Thank you for the request. This is my first time writing for The Walking Dead, and for Alden. Just a forewarning, I haven’t watched the episodes I’m referring to in a long time and the story is a little fuzzy, so I’m sorry if it's a little inaccurate or confusing.

I was a little unsure about what to write about since you gave me creative liberty, but I hope you like the outcome. I don't love the outcome, but I didn’t want to make you wait any longer. If this isn’t what you were looking for, I’m happy to rewrite this, or accept another request. Just let me know, and I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, panic, angst, let me know if i missed anything)

—

The past few day’s events had been exhausting, to say the least. 

Mary, a Whisperer who had turned to your cause, warned your group of Alpha and the Whisperer’s plans to attack. It would result in catastrophe if left unhandled, so the group strategically scattered, planning the best course of action to fight back.

Hilltop had been evacuated a few days before, including Adam, the adoptive son of Tammy and Earl, and Mary’s nephew. Alden left the same day as the children, having other jobs needed for him to attend to. You chose to stay and fight, promising Alden you’d find him when it was all over.

Mary was right. Alpha’s attack hit the group with full force. She had led the horde straight to your gates, setting them on fire. You escaped on foot alone, unable to find anyone before you were forced to leave. There was nothing worth salvaging to return to.

Alden, Mary, and Kelly had met up together at some point, with Alden in custody of Adam, unbeknownst to you. You didn't know, at least until later, that Alden had become the sole caregiver to Adam. Earl was bit trying to protect the kids, and he died, according to Judith. Earl left Adam for Alden to take care of. Mary sacrificed herself to lead a horde of walkers away who had come after her, Alden, Kelly, and Adam. She died a hero, saving their lives. Beta found her, killing her before she could escape. 

With nowhere to go, you went to Alexandria, hoping that was where everyone else had turned to after the dust of the attack had settled. You knew you were right when you made it to the gates, being let in and greeted by a multitude of people. But not the one you were looking for.

You said your hello’s, eventually finding Kelly in the crowd. 

“Kelly! Have you seen Alden?”

She nodded, pointing down the street to the house at the end of the block. “He was with Judith last time I saw him. He didn’t look too good.”

“What do you mean?” You asked in confusion, worry setting in on your face. “Is he hurt?”

“No. Just a little shook up, I think. We had a rough time on the road.”

You listened in horror as she explained what happened in the time since you were separated, and all that happened to Mary. 

You placed a comforting hand on Kelly’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “I’m so sorry you had to see all of that. I’m glad you were with him, thank you for looking out for him.”

She smiled, patting your hand. “It was no trouble. He handled it well.”

She turned to find her friends, but you stopped her, brows furrowed. “Wait, sorry. Why is he with Judith?”

“Michonne isn’t coming back. I think Judith and RJ are going to stay with Daryl for a while, at least until they come up with a plan.”

You felt your heart sink at her words, making a mental note to find Judith and RJ later to make sure they were alright. Kelly continued, only growing the pit that had settled itself in your stomach.

“Judith said Alden and you could stay at the house while she isn’t there, since he’s got nowhere to go yet. I know we’ll all probably have to evacuate here in a few days, but it’s the solution for now, I guess.”

“That’s sweet of her,” you said, smiling at the thought of Judith’s kindness. “So you saw him at the house, then?”

“Yeah. But Y/N, I’d be careful. Earl didn’t make it out there.”

You felt sick to your stomach hearing about the death of Earl, knowing how close he was with Alden.

You brought a hand to your mouth, jaw going slack. “But what about Adam?”

“Judith said Earl told her that he wanted Alden to take Adam. Apparently Earl thought he was the best one for the job. Judith found Alden and told him, and he went into the house. I haven’t seen him come out since.”

You brought your fingers to the bridge of your nose, wincing. “Alright. I better go check on him. Thanks for telling me.”

“Come get me if you need me,” she said, patting your shoulder before turning back to her friends.

You took a deep breath, calming yourself, before hurrying down the street. You didn’t knock, letting yourself in. You tried to ignore the eerie feeling you got stepping through the door, knowing all who lived there were either dead or gone, except for Judith and RJ. 

You went straight for the guest room of the house, knowing it had been converted into a nursery after RJ was born. You pushed open the door, only to find Adam in his crib, and Alden, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. 

You frowned at the sight, stepping in front of him, offering your hands. Your voice was soft. “Alden? Hey, baby.”

Alden looked up at the sound of your voice, quickly grabbing your hands as you helped pull him up, before he threw his arms around your waist. He pulled you tightly into him, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently swaying him back and forth.

“Hard couple of days, huh?”

“Hey,” he murmured into your shoulder, sighing in relief. “God, now I feel like I can finally breathe.”

His voice was small. Cracked. It broke your heart. Adam started to stir in his crib, letting out a wail. Alden visibly flinched, letting out a pained groan. He let you go, heading to pick Adam up, but you grabbed his arm, gently holding him back. 

“Sit down, love,” you said, reaching into the crib. “I’ve got him.”

Alden nodded, backing up to the wall, slowly sliding down it. You placed Adam on your hip, gently bouncing him while you cradled him to you. Alden faintly smiled at the sight, feeling himself ease, if only for a moment.

“You look good with him.”

You tried not to hear the undertones of worry in his voice, knowing he was thinking to himself, how the hell are we supposed to take care of a baby? How can we do it alone? There isn’t even enough time to grieve Earl.

You weakly smiled, softly cooing at Adam, whose cries had ceased. “That’s all him. He’s so cute, I don’t even have to do any work.”

Alden smiled, although it didn’t quite meet his eyes. You sighed, placing Adam back down in his crib, before easing yourself down the wall to sit next to him. You pulled his hand into your lap, intertwining your fingers. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb in circles along the backside of your hand, looking at you with tired eyes.

“We’ll make it work,” you said, trying your best to make the both of you believe it. “It’ll be fine…we’ll be fine.”

Alden nodded, resting his chin on your shoulder. “I know.”

You sat in silence for a moment, relishing in the peace. But you could feel the tension in the room, knowing there were some unsaid words, waiting to be freed. Yet, you couldn’t look him in the eye and ask. 

Instead, you turned your head, letting it rest against his. “I’m sorry about Earl. I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you–”

“It’s not your fault,” he cut you off, squeezing your hand. “You know that.”

“I do. But still,” you nodded, and there was a pause. “Do you want to talk about it? Kelly filled me in a little, but I want you to talk about it, too. You need the release.”

He sighed, moving to press the heels of his palms to his eyes. You stayed quiet, rubbing a comforting hand along his back.

“You know, after Enid…I just shut down. I said some things I shouldn’t have said to Lydia, even though it’s not her fault where she comes from. Lord knows how true that is, considering how we were on opposite sides when we met.”

You flinched at Enid’s name. Neither of you had been able to fully process her death, or truly move on. Your mutual grief is what had brought you together. You both knew Enid would have wanted you to be happy with her gone. It took you both a while to accept that.

“I’m glad you were with the Saviors,” you said, truthfully. “I don’t care what side you were on. We’ve all done shit we’re not proud of. And, you didn’t do Negan’s bidding. But even if you had, it would have been to survive. Lydia did the same. You were hurt, after Enid…Lydia understands that, I promise you.”

His jaw clenched, and he kept his eyes on the floor.

“Still. Maggie changed my life, letting us stay at Hilltop. I would never have met you if it wasn’t for her. And yet, here I was, being a complete dick to Mary. Judging her on where she came from, as if taking a chance on me isn’t what your people did. She just wanted to help. She wanted to see her nephew.”

His voice broke as he spoke, and he stood, violently wiping under his eyes. 

“I fucking hate them. I can’t help it. But Mary…God, I should have done something.”

Your gaze softened on him, and you stood, pulling his hands away from his face. You wiped under his eyes, much more gently than he had been doing, before holding him still by his shoulders. 

“There was nothing you could have done, Alden. Nothing. She made her own choice, and I’ll be grateful to her every day for it.”

Alden shook his head, but you cupped his jaw, holding him still.

“Hey, listen to me. Listen to me. I’m grateful to her, and I’m grateful to Earl. You and Adam came home because of them,” you said, speaking firmly. “And not just you, but Kelly, too. And all those children. They got to come home because of them. Judith came home. That makes their sacrifice worth it, doesn’t it? They didn’t die for nothing.”

You went over to the crib, picking Adam up again. You gently passed him to Alden, making him focus on you both. Alden softened, looking at Adam with teary eyes.

“He was worth it, wasn’t he?”

Alden let out a heavy sigh, nodding. You nodded with him, setting one hand on his arm, resting the other on Adam’s back. 

“I think it was. We’re all alive, we’re all ok. We’re home. I couldn’t ask for much better. It’s gonna be alright, Alden. We’ll make sure of it, and we’ll do it together, alright?”

He nodded again, leaning over to press a kiss on the top of your head. You leaned into his side, and you both took deep breaths, trying to keep yourself calm. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice firm and full of reassurance. 

“Together.”

—

A/N - Hi! Sorry this is a little short. I feel like I could have done better if I came up with something better for the plot, but that’s my bad. Anyways, thank you again for the request. Hopefully this is alright, let me know what you think!

#the walking dead x reader #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead #alden twd imagine #alden x reader #alden twd x reader #alden twd #alden imagine #alden #twd x reader #alden x you #alden twd x you #the whisperers #rick grimes x reader #daryl dixon x reader

[fantasyinallforms]

Hello fellow bagginshield enjoyer and fantastic author of fanfiction! I offer you part of my nonexistent soul (Bagginshield took it all years ago) for "Roadtrip" for the summer writing prompts, if you feel so inclined. If not totally fine with me!! Much love, -E 🍻

I DO FEEL VERY INCLINED! Thank you for the prompt. 🥰 I took some liberties with the road trip prompt, but I'm very happy with the results, and I hope you are too! It ended up being just shy of 2k.

This was for the FOTFics Summer Prompts event!

~~~~~~~~

Title- Wrong Path, Right Choice {T}

Bilbo sat in his car, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. This was not at all how he wanted this trip to go. His GPS told him this was a shortcut through the wooded area. After driving for over an hour and not seeing any sign of…well, anything, he knew he was in trouble. He was only on this road trip because four months of intense writer's block had put a dead stop to his next novel. His editor recommended he take an adventurous holiday to get the juices flowing. Well recommended was a strong word. His editor and cousin Prim had a car and cabin in the mountains booked for him in under a week of his tentative agreement. He had started coming around to the idea as the trip approached. He didn't mind driving, and the scenery between Michel Delving and the Misty Mountains was beautiful. However, 30 hours in a car is still 30 hours in a car, and a lot can go wrong in that time. Like right now as he sat at the side of the road in a steaming car that would not start. Not that he wanted to try after the sound it made right before it died. The icing on top of the cake…no cell service. 

Bilbo got out of the car and did a cursory inspection of the vehicle. He couldn't tell you what he was looking for, but it seemed better (and maybe safer) than sitting in the car. Eventually, he just kicked the tire and sat on the trunk with his head in his hands. He had surprisingly little time to wallow in his misery when a beat-up dark blue truck pulled up behind him. Bilbo tensed.

"Hey, are you alright?" He was not expecting to hear a low, gruff baritone voice, and it temporarily shocked him out of his suspicion. 

"Yes, I'm fine. I don't know if I can say the same for the car." The man stepped fully out of the truck, and the look of him made Bilbo falter. He was very attractive. He had long silver-streaked black hair currently spilling out of a messy bun. He was big with broad shoulders and a stern disposition. Very fit but not in a bodybuilder way, more in a practical way. Bilbo looked back at the still-steaming engine to hide the shock and blush on his face. 

"Have you called a tow truck for it yet?" Bilbo couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just not a conversationalist. He sounded very matter-of-fact. He waited to hear Bilbo's explanation of no cell service before ducking his head back into the truck. “My name is Thorin Oakenshield, by the way.” He placed what looked like an odd walkie-talkie in his lap and walked to the front of the car to pop the hood. Bilbo was distracted by the way Thorin’s muscles seemed to ripple under the very thin shirt he was wearing. He sat there stupidly for a moment until he remembered himself.

“I’m Bilbo…..Baggins! Bilbo Baggins. Thank you for this?” He held up the little phone. “I’m not sure what it is or how to use it, however.” He felt the weight on the car shift as Thorin walked back around. 

“It’s a satellite phone. You should be able to use it like any regular handheld phone.” Bilbo was getting a little agitated by the man's clipped tone. 

“Well, thank you, but I don't have the number for a tow truck memorized.” Bilbo held the phone back to him with perhaps a little more attitude than usual. This was already a trying day, and his patience was thin enough already without being made to look the fool. 

“Press and hold three, that should call the forestry service. Tell them you’re half a mile past road marker 14 on the River Running Crossroad.” Thorin returned to his truck as Bilbo made the call. Twenty minutes and a frankly ridiculous amount of money later, a tow truck was on its way. The ETA was two hours. Bilbo let out a long-suffering sigh and leaned back onto the car's back windshield. He heard Thorin laugh for the first time since meeting him and sat back up. His annoyance overcame his manners, and he snapped a little. 

“I very much appreciate your assistance Mr. Oakenshield, but I’m not in the mood to be laughed at.” Bilbo hopped off the trunk and pushed the phone into Thorin’s chest. “You can go back to wherever it is you live and pat yourself on the back for your good samaritan work for the day.”  

“Let me guess. It’ll take two hours for the truck to arrive, and it costs three times as much as you thought it might.” Thorin sounded very sure of himself. 

“I…Yes,” Bilbo replied sourly. 

“Well, come on then, you might as well wait in the back of the truck. Better than standing around.” Thorin started walking back towards his truck. 

“Wait! You’re not leaving?” Despite his outburst, there was a pinch of relief in his voice. He was surrounded by dense trees on both sides of him, and if he was being honest, he had absolutely no idea where he was.

“It’ll be dark in less than an hour. Would you rather I left?” His voice conveyed he knew exactly what his response would be, and he scrambled over to the truck bed. He looked at it wearily. He had just met this mysterious mountain man and was apprehensive about climbing into a truck with him, regardless of how unbelievably attractive he was.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve noticed there are not a lot of people on this road. Why were you on it?” Thorin had the gall to look amused. 

“What were you doing on a forestry road? When Bilbo didn't answer, he replied to his first question, “Look up and northeast of here to your left. That’s a fire watch tower. My tower. You’re not the first to turn off on this road and break down. Most people stick to the Greenway, but an unlucky few split off.” 

“Wait, so you live up there?” Bilbo had to admit a place in the middle of nowhere with peace and quiet for weeks sounded like a dream. It intrigued him enough that he made to climb into the truck only to realize that no matter how you sliced it, he was far too short to climb into the back with any level of grace. He looked nervously at Thorin, who lost none of his previous amusement. In one effortless swoop, he picked up Bilbo by the hips and sat him on the tailgate before climbing in after him. 

“I live there half the year. I’m a fire lookout.”     

“Doesn't that get lonely?” 

“Not on days like this when I have people to rescue from their own bad decisions.” Thorin winked and reached into what Bilbo thought was a toolbox. “Soda?” Bilbo took the offered can and broke into a laugh. 

“Arnt you supposed to offer me a beer in a time like this?” He popped the tab and was grateful for anything to drink. He was incredibly thirsty, and this was caramel-colored gold. 

“Can't drink on the job,” Thorin replied, opening his own can and settling against the cooler with his legs stretched in front of him. Bilbo fiddled with his can. So was helping because he was obligated to do so. He had to admit he found that a little disappointing. They just sat and drank in comfortable silence, listing to the sounds of descending night. Soon it was pitch black outside, with the only light source being the stars overhead and the sliver of moon that could be seen in the sky. Bilbo leaned back and marveled at the sky. The last time he had seen so many stars was at his childhood home. He could still remember his father pointing out the constellations and his mother telling him their stories. He could almost forget he was sitting on the side of the road. Almost, until Thorin moved to sit next to him, the hard line of his body pressed against his side.

“The stars are clearer here than at home. Like someone painted them across the night sky.” 

“That sounds like it came from a book,” Thorin commented. 

Bilbo chuckled, “Maybe it will one day if I have something to say about it.” 

“So you’re a writer then?” Thorin asked. Bilbo shook his head yes. 

“Fantasy novels. Nothing so interesting as your job, but I love it.” Bilbo kept his eyes on the sky as he said it. “You must meet a lot of people in half a year. Do you make it a habit of sitting with all the people you rescue until the tow truck comes?” 

“Only the cute ones.” Thorin teased. Bilbo’s face turned scarlet, and he was grateful the darkness covered the blush on his face. 

“I bet you say that to all the cute boys you rescue.” 

“I do,” Thorin replied. Bilbo tensed a little involuntarily. “Which would bring my grand total to one.” When Bilbo turned his head to look at Thorin, and found his face incredibly near. “Unless that’s a ridiculous thing to say, in which case we can just go back to looking at stars.” Bilbo was not someone who took spontaneous leaps, but isn't that what this road trip was supposed to be about? He was starting to grow a sense of adventure. Hoping this wasn't a mistake, he closed the distance between them. Thorin made a surprised sound and quickly recovered until his hands were wrapped around his waist. This man was a good kisser. Bilbo had never been held more gingerly and solidly than in this moment. His hands found their way into the mane of hair on Thorin's head, pulling it out of the tie used to pull it back. He was practically in Thorin’s lap, now enjoying being lavished with deep kisses and soft touches. They made out in the back of the truck for about 10 minutes before the blinding light of the tow truck illuminated them. Bilbo groaned in disappointment. Thorin chuckled and affectionately smoothed the curls that had fallen into his face behind his head. He gave one last little peck before getting up and helping him out of the truck. Thorin went to speak to the truck driver, and Bilbo got all his necessities out of the trunk.

“Alright, here is a receipt and a number to call tomorrow. Let me know if you’re riding with me or your friend here.” He took the receipt and walked back over to Thorin. 

“Thank you for all your help and for…. He fumbled for the right words, and they never came. Here’s where I’m staying and my number if you’re curious or….” Bilbo was getting frustrated with his inability to form sentences. “Thank you for passing the time with me.” He decided to leave his embarrassing fumbling to that and turned to leave. A hand caught him around the forearm, and he stopped. 

“It takes two hours to get to the service station and only 45 minutes to the fire watch station. It’s getting pretty late, and you haven't even had dinner. I could take you to the service station in the morning. If that’s something you want?” Thorin’s face looked so hopeful, and Bilbo’s chest swelled. He shook his head in agreement, and Thorin beamed. The duffle bag in his hands was taken from him and thrown into the truck bed. 

“Hey, Bofur!” The truck driver looked up. “He won't need a ride!” The driver just gave a thumbs-up and a chuckle. They watched the tow truck pull away into the distance, and Bilbo climbed into Thorin's pickup.   

So what if he never ended up making it to that cabin Prim booked. This was a much more interesting adventure. 

~~~~~~~

I might post this one on AO3, idk yet. All of my drabbles will get posted at some point.

#bagginshield #the hobbit #bilbo baggins #thilbo #thorin oakenshield #bilbo x thorin #summer stories #fotfics #FIAF(me)fics