#I’m working on another piece but that one is taking forever to transfer to my new iPad so take this in the meantime

[sappho-rose]

lil doodle based off today’s episode

#I’m working on another piece but that one is taking forever to transfer to my new iPad so take this in the meantime #my Apple Pencil came in which I can finally draw on it and can confirm it feels very different from drawing on a phone lmao #bucchigiri? #bucchigiri #zabu kakeru #komao sakigake #my art #fanart #art #digital art #artists on tumblr #drawing

[whomstress]

Ragatha's Bunnydoll

Paring: Ragatha x Jax

Rating: T

Hello! Long time no fic! This isn't one of my favorites but I've had it for a long time and wanted to finish it I hope you like it!

Jax has never been more angry with an outcome. Caine's adventure ended with a surprise punishment for the loser. Jax, unlike Zooble, who decided to opt out completely, played the game more than halfheartedly. He is much more interested in messing people up than actually winning himself. It was all going pretty great, especially when he was able to bowl Gangle’s comedy mask down the hall until he lost. He went to his room, not caring about whatever Caine was up to, and decided to try and take a nap. It's been days since he slept, so it might work this time. It usually doesn't, but he soon felt sleep fall upon him faster than it had in a long time. This felt like a trap, but he shrugged it off. Whatever it is, how bad could it be?

But, of course, nothing could ever be easy here, could it? He woke up on the main stage, unable to move. Of course he would. Why did he think anything else about this damn tent? He laughed inwardly; at least he could cuss all he wanted in his mind. He tried to call out, annoyed as hell, to someone to get him out of here, but that was impossible too. His mind was intact, but he couldn’t explain how he felt other than stiff as a rock while stuffed with cotton. Then Bubble appeared in front of him, and he was huge. Twice the size of his body. Jax finally felt himself jump at the shock, but he quickly went back to no movement.

“He’s soooo cute like this! I could just eat him!” Bubble said, menacingly opening his mouth to show his sharp set of teeth that were inching closer to Jax. 

Jax barely had time to react when Caine popped Bubble and appeared in front of him. "Well, that’s enough of that! Sorry Jax! I think Bubble is going through another teething phase!”

Jax tried to roll his eyes and say something sarcastic, but found once again that he was stuck. ‘What the fuck is going on!’ he thought. A menacing aura came from him, but even if Caine noticed, he didn't acknowledge it.

Caine came much too close to his face, and Jax wanted nothing more than to finally knock a tooth in. “Well JAX! I’m sure you're wondering, in appropriate language, What is going on?”

Jax just stayed silent, but even Caine could feel sarcasm dripping from the doll. "Yesterday, you told Ragatha the only thing worse than being stuck here was being stuck here as a living doll. So as punishment for today's game, I thought I’d show you how fun it could be! HAHAHAHAHA”

“But unfortunately, it is not in my code to make you new character models. That would require me to transfer your mind, and that is the only thing I cannot control here. However, I can change your form! So what do you think?”

A comically large mirror is placed in front of him, and Jax finally sees exactly why he can’t move or speak. He’s been turned into a small doll version of himself. His body and clothes were felt, and his expression was painted on sly. No wonder he felt like he was stuffed with cotton; he was. Oh, ho, ho, when he got out of this, there was going to be hell to pay.

Before Jax could start planning a premeditated murder, Caine jumped in. “Great! I knew you’d love it! How about you stay this hmmmmmmmmmm... forever?” Jax stayed silent in horror, but Caine jumped in a second later and said, “You’re right, that's a terrible idea! How will you go on more adventures!? HAHAHAHA Dinner time, it is! Have fun!”

Jax looked at himself a little longer in shock before mentally slapping himself out of it. 'Alright, you dumb bunny. Suck it up. Sulkings for losers. I moved earlier, which means I can move. I’m getting the hell out of here before anyone finds me. If Zooble gets a hold of me, I’m pretty sure they’ll set me on fire for that prank I pulled today.’ He laughs to himself, remembering their face as their pieces are scattered across the floor.

After about 15 minutes of trial and error, he realized he could move, but only in jerky movements. So he could swipe his arm or jump a bit, but it’d quickly go back in position, and he'd stop moving completely for another minute or two. He managed to get himself off the table, of course, landing face first, but the nice thing about this body was that it was so plush that he’s pretty sure he could be thrown at a wall and it’d only hurt for a second. 'Huh, it makes sense why Ragatha gets way more upset at centipedes than throwing stuff at her.’

A light bulb went off in his head, and if he could groan, he would. ‘Ragatha. This was her fault!’ If she hadn’t annoyed him, he never would have said what he said and gotten into this mess! Yeah, he's been picking on her more lately, but that’s just because she's the funniest to mess with. He’d found out a new way to fluster her by getting very close in her space. There was something addicting about the way her face flushed red and she’d yell his name. It was nice to see her like that.

You know in a funny way.

But it had really gotten to her, and she’d said something mean back, hitting below the belt. So he told her he might have it bad, but nothing could be worse than being stuck here in hell as a damn doll.

He stopped jumping even when he finally could again, remembering her face when he said it. Her eyes held genuine hurt, and her face pulled into a frown. She looked like she was going to cry. He hated it. She was just supposed to fluster again and yell his name. But when she did say his name, it was sad, and he realized that was not what he wanted. He felt an apology he’d never cared to give anyone else on the tip of his tongue before Zooble called his attention, and he retreated again. It wasn’t his fault; she's a crybaby, and he wouldn’t say sorry. Look what it got him into.

Ragatha’s eyes flashed again in his head, and something in his heart squeezed. If he could growl, he would. ‘Stop! It’s over now. We’ve been over this before. She’s not special. If I don’t apologize to Gangle, I won’t apologize to her! It’s not like she’d care anyway. She doesn't even like you.’

“Oooooh! What’s this?” 

Speak of the devil. Just his damn luck.

He feels himself being lifted by similar felt hands as if he’s nothing and he’s face, well, practically whole body, to face with the woman that was just invading his thoughts. Of course, it’d be Ragatha who found him. Doesn’t God hate him enough already? ‘It’s fine. It’s fine. As long as she doesn’t call you c-”

“CUUUUTEEE!” She squeals in such a high pitch that it makes him twinge just the tiniest bit, but she doesn't seem to notice after already examining him more thoroughly. He knew she loved dolls, but he didn’t think she’d say that about a doll of him. She pokes and prods him, admiring his stitching and design. “Oh my God, aren’t you the cutest little doll? I haven’t seen such a well-made doll in ages! I wonder if Caine is making some for us.”

Ragatha takes a little bit of lint off his cheek and smiles sweetly at him. “There you go, sweetheart, all better!” 

Jax can’t talk, but he’s still stunned and silent. He didn’t know she could smile that way. At least not to him. How does he get her to do it again? When did she get so pretty? He ponders that for a single second before he yanks himself back to reality. ‘Snap out of it! She’s only smiling because she thinks you're a toy, not because it’s you.`

“If only real Jax could look as cute as you!” He inwardly rolled his eyes again, but then she said something that made him freeze. "Alright, sweetheart, now that we’ve seen your high-quality craftsmanship, it's time to do the ultimate test for a plushie! How huggable are you?”

Oh no, no, no, NO. He hasn’t had a hug in ages. He’s not losing his streak now! He is NOT- Ragatha pulled him into a soft embrace, squishing her plush cheek against his, and moved a hand to hold his head like he was a real person she was supporting. The hug was so strange. It was firm but so delicate, like a hug you’d give to a loved one after not seeing them for a long time. Like he wasn’t just a doll. Like she wanted his touch. Like she liked him. Like she meant it.

It was nice. He guessed. It's super annoying how long she does it, but also nice. In that plushies are made for hugging kind of way, obviously. She pulls back, and he hates how he misses the warmth of her on his cheek. He almost didn’t want her to let go, but when she pulls back with a dopey smile for him, he really doesn’t find himself minding.

Her face suddenly sank. “If only the real you would let me in.

What? What does that mean? Real me? To his surprise, she keeps talking to him.

"God, the real you drives me insane! You know that?”

He inwardly chuckles, 'Yeah, that’s the plan, sweetheart.’

She slides down the wall to sit with him, hugging him to her, and he realizes he’s going to be here for a while. At least this wasn’t the worst position to be stuck in. ‘Why doesn’t she tell her friends about this?’ Well, actually, he understood more than he liked to admit. He never liked people knowing he was upset either. He understood a lot about her, and he knew the feeling was mutual. And he hated it.

She’s the only one who would ask him if he was okay. Ever. They weren’t even really friends, enemies at worst; if anything was off with him, she was the first to notice. The only one to notice. She’d find him in private or even in the middle of his pranks on her and look at him with that dumb doe eye and ask if he was ‘okay’. Of course he wasn’t okay! He was stuck in digital hell, not even knowing his real name. Nobody liked him here, but he could care less because there was no one he liked either.

“Why does he do this?” Ragatha snaps him out of his thoughts and starts talking again. “I swear we’ve been here for years together, but it’s all the same. As soon as we get closer, he pushes me away. And I know that dumb bunny trusts me! Otherwise, he’d never come to me.” 

Once again, he flinched at her, but once again, she didn’t seem to notice, lost in her own thoughts. Why was she talking about this out loud? What if some other idiot heard her?

“Why does he stay all night? Come into my room just to stare at the wall? So silent, not wanting a single touch, and yet when I go to move even an inch away, he stares straight into my soul? I know what he’s thinking; he has to know I know.” Her breath hitches. “Don’t-”

Leave me

The words fill his head, and his mind goes back to those moments. He’d stare at her until she moved back close enough for him to relax. It had to be less than once a year when he’d come to her, and it didn’t start until he'd been stuck there for a year. It was the closet he felt to anyone here—the only time he’d let himself be vulnerable. And he hated it.

“Why won’t he let me in?” She sighs once again, hugging the plushie closer. “He has to know how I feel about him.”

Oh, he knew exactly how she felt about him and how everyone felt about him. She was right; he’d push her away after that. He usually avoided her like the plague for at least a week in his sort of 'thanks', but then even he noticed his bullying of her would increase. He didn’t know why, but he needed her attention. He hated that she saw through him, but if she didn’t look at him at all, he didn’t think he could stand it. His thoughts are spiraling down when she interrupts again.

“AND WHY DOES HE FLIRT IF HE’S JUST GOING TO BE A JERK?”

‘...What?’

“I swear he gets in my face, blows in my ear, and looks at me like he wants to eat me! Even if it is kind of hot.” Wait no. He wasn’t flirting. He’d just been bullying her more. She must’ve finally lost her mind. And yet, despite the initial surprise at the sudden change of subject, he feels his ego bloat not only at her last comment but at the way she’s so flustered at the thought.

She suddenly yanks him up, so he’s back to being face-to-face with her. “Seriously, if you're going to kiss me, just do it already, you idiot!” 

He watches amusingly as she stares at his face, and hers blows up in a blush, cartoonish steam coming from her. But she doesn't put the plush down in embarrassment like he thinks she will. She bites her lip and looks around three times, like she’s making sure no one can see her. 'What is she doing now?’ He thinks.

“This is so dumb! If actual Jax sees or hears this, he’ll never let me forget it.” His ears perk at this, suddenly very interested in what she has planned. Blackmail is always great.

She blows out a warm breath that he can feel touching his face. “Screw it. It’s just pretending anyway.” He watches intensely as she closes her eyes and begins moving in. He can’t believe his eyes. No way. Is she really?

She’s much too quickly an inch away when he thinks, 'God, she’s beautiful.” 

Her lips touch his painted-on mouth only for a moment before a large cloud of smoke poofs him back to his real body with their lips still connected. Ragatha pulls back in surprise, yelping his name, “JAX! What are you? How are you?”

But he doesn’t let her finish instantly connecting their lips again. Still in disbelief, she tries to pull back to get an explanation, but he brings her lips back to his more eagerly each time she whispers his name against his lips. He moves her like a ragdoll, ha, onto his lap, and she melts in his grip. She’s not sure how or why this is happening, but she can’t bring herself to stop.

It’s soft and rough at the same time. Like trying to make up for lost time. Hot breath and soft lips clash and move together in a delicious touch. He whispers her name as he brings her impossibly closer to him, and she feels a shiver crawl along her skin. Goosebumps. She didn’t even think she could have them, but if she didn’t feel them now, she knew she never would.

Jax reveled in her little squeaks, tender gasps, and the music that was his name on her lips. Like a punch in the face, everything made sense now. How he felt. What she meant to him. What he meant to her. She liked him, and he loved her.

They finally pull apart from each other, gasping for air. They stayed like that for a moment before he started to burst out laughing. She wanted to laugh along, but that was definitely his laughing at her, not with her laugh. Ragatha looks suspiciously at him and says, “What?”

“I can’t believe you poured your heart out then kissed a doll of me!” Her face glows as red as her hair, and she goes to pull away in annoyance, but he pulls her back with a smirk. “If you wanted me that bad doll face, you shoulda just asked.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Ragatha pouted, but she could see the humor in it. She complained about him not explaining his feelings for at least 10 minutes to a plush, only to do the same thing.

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk now, baby.” She looks back at him, and he’s once again looking at her with hunger in his eyes, making her gulp and her blush rise again.

“You look like you want to eat me.” She says in a shaky voice.

"Hmmmm, that cause I do,” He pulls her closer, and she gasps, ”Good thing you like it.”

Her eyes hood, and she moves in, but he pulls back, leaving her disappointed. “Say it first, say you like it.” His mouth stretches like a Cheshire grin as she squirms underneath his stare.

She looks him in the eye and reaches a hand up to cup his cheek and rub a thumb along his skin. She smiles warmly at him as she sees his eyes widen in shock. “I really like you.”

He searches her eyes, looking for lies, but he can’t find them. That’s not what he asked for, but he can’t find himself upset when she’s finally looking at him like that. He hates that he finally feels his own blush rise, and he presses his lips hard together before crashing back into her lips. “Prove it."

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #ragatha #tadc ragatha #jax #tadc jax #jax x ragatha #ragatha x jax #bunnydoll #mia writes

[biblio-smia]

always and forever [ethan landry x reader]

pairing: gender neutral reader x ethan landry

warnings: none just fluff <3

very self indulgent </3 rough day today :(

Your muscles ached, begging you for a break you couldn’t afford to give them. You’d forgotten your laptop and had to walk out of class, all the way back to your dorm to get it. Your shift was long and tiresome, your battery drained more than you could handle. The thought of having to wake up and do it all over again made frustrated tears prickle at your eyes.

The domino effect didn’t stop there; you’d gotten home and had a pile of chores waiting on you, the stress from seeing the dishes piled up almost sending you over the edge. You had no energy but you could not rest.

Your breaking point came when a dish slipped out of your hand — the one Ethan made you one on of your first dates — and shattered into tiny pieces on the floor. You stared for a second, your brain working hard to keep up, before you felt the heat rise to your face and the tears start to flow.

You were so fucking clumsy.

You barely heard the footsteps or the sound of your name until Ethan’s hand was on your shoulder, forcing your blurry vision to focus on him.

“Hey, you left your door unlocked…”

“Of course I did,” you replied tearfully.

Ethan gave you a look and glanced at your feet, where his gift once was.

“Oh, baby…” Ethan said softly, leading you away from the sharp shards.

He led you to your bed, taking a seat in the corner and pulling you atop of him. His shirt was dampening but Ethan carried on rubbing slow circles on your back, strong arms acting as your rock.

Ethan didn’t need to know what led you to this point, knowing how you tended to let things build up until you couldn’t hold it in anymore. And every time, he would be there to take care of you and try to stop it from happening again.

Ethan hated seeing you in pain, but he would coax you through it until he saw you smile.

Ethan waited until your sobs became shudders before pressing kisses to your dampened face, salty tears transferring to his lips.

You looked up at Ethan with a desperate look in your eye.

“The plate—”

“I’ll clean it up,” Ethan promised, but you shook your head.

“I’ll make you a new one. I’ll make you twenty new ones,” Ethan pressed another kiss to the back of your hand as you wiped your eyes.

“I dropped it, Ethan. And I forgot my laptop went I went to class and I forgot to lock my door and—”

Ethan could tell you were on the verge of tears again, so he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay. That’s why I’m here.”

“I don’t get why you are. Why aren’t you tired of it?”

“Because I love you,” Ethan said simply. It was obvious to anyone, but it was the first time he’d ever said it to you.

And just like that, your brain cleared and your heart did a leap.

“You love me?”

“I love you.”

There was no expectation in Ethan’s voice, no push for an echo of the words from you. There was nothing but sincerity and honesty, as if he was telling you the sky was blue.

You took a shaky breath and rested your head on Ethan’s shoulder, pressing your lips gently against his neck. Ethan’s hands were under your shirt, warming up the cold skin of your back. His arms were a refuge for you to escape your bad thoughts and as Ethan kissed your head, you knew there was nothing getting in the way of that.

“I love you,” you whispered but you knew Ethan heard. His ears turned pink and he sank down until you were half laying on him and half on your mattress. Ethan kept you there, protecting you from everything upsetting you had gone through.

Even at your lowest, Ethan loved you, confident that it would never cease. And as you stared at Ethan, counting the soft freckles on his face with a delicate finger, he knew it was true for you, too.

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry fanfiction #ethan landry fluff #ethan landry x you #scream x reader #scream #v writes #v + ethan

[hearthouses]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writer

Tagged by @pelopides

How many works do you have on ao3?

67. I would have more if I transferred more LJ stuff over, but I am largely embarrassed by those works.

What's your total ao3 word count?

282,047 words.

What fandoms do you write for?

I am going to list the major ones, but I dipped my toes in The Borgias, The Magicians, and Good Omens. But the ones I’ve written the most for are:

A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin

From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series

IT (Movies - Muschietti)

Supernatural (TV 2005)

The Vampire Diaries (TV)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

you call my name and it feels like home (1,197 kudos)

i grow green with hope (599 kudos)

desire holds me like a knife (493 kudos)

twenty-one grams (493 kudos)

The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold) (433 kudos)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

The most honest answer is: I try, but sometimes my neurotic anxious parts of my brain take over and I don’t reply. As a commenter and reader, I personally don’t mind if the author doesn’t reply back because I don’t wish to be perceived, but I’m also not sure what the etiquette is anymore. Do they also want me to reply to their reply? Is this a conversation now? I think AO3 changed a lot of fandom norms and expectations because I don’t remember being this conscious of myself and comment threads were the norm. But anyway, the tl;dr of it: I try and work up the nerve and sometimes I fail, sometimes I do it months later, sorry!

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend to write ambiguous to hopeful endings, so this was hard to determine, so I think it is a tie between The Whispering Ghosts (Left You Out In The Cold) and Watch Your Step (You'll Need A Miracle). The former because the entire fic is bleak and the ending is essentially more of the same, while the latter is about the emotional shattering of someone post-assault.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

This question is very subjective because I tend to write things that might not be considered happy for some people, but are happy to me. In a more traditional sense, twenty-one grams feels the most happy because the rest of the fic is a grueling exercise in grief and eventually Eddie is brought back to life and everyone can move forward, so the relief is palpable. But on an iddy level, my favorite happy ending is we could live forever in each other’s faces because I want Sam and Dean to have a baby and rule together in Hell forever and ever.

Do you get hate on fics?

Yes. I used to get a lot of angry comments in the From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series fandom, and recently I had a lot of disgruntled people on my most recent fic. It could be my long-term anonymous hater, but who knows.

Do you write smut?

Yes! I used to not be able to and I thought I would never be capable of it, but I feel pretty good about my smut writing skills.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I did back in the day, but it was largely Supernatural/One Tree Hill crossovers because I was sixteen and afraid to admit I shipped Sam/Dean. I do muse about crossovers from time to time because I want my faves to meet and I think a lot about how they would interact, but those stories are often low priority for me.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Apparently! Someone was reposting fics on Wattpad and one of my Richie/Eddie fics was reposted. It was deleted before I could report it myself.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

A couple! It was an interesting and flattering experience.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I can't do that because I don't speak any other languages.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, with @ladyculebras. We often do round robin experiments and exercises, and we posted devour me (if you really think that you can stomach me) because the exercise kept going and we finished the piece.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Sam/Dean is one of my longest running OTPs, so that feels like the obvious answer, but I never stop feeling feelings for my OTPs, they tend to go into hibernation until I am attacked with feelings and I spiral. Some of my OTPs I don’t write fic for, but still have an immense amount of feelings for. Right now off the top of my head, the OTPs swirling around in my brain at any given time are: Sam/Dean, Louis/Lestat (and Louis/Lestat/Claudia), Seth/Richie, Sam/Tara, Richie/Eddie (and Losers Club OT7), Quentin/Eliot, Geralt/Yennefer, Coriolanus/Lucy Gray/Serjanus, Katniss/Peeta (and Katniss/Peeta/Haymitch), Archie/Betty/Jughead/Veronica.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a huge graveyard of unfinished WIPs for fandoms past that I am sure I will never finish, so it is easier to answer that there are a few WIPs I really do want to finish some day. My exit from the IT fandom wasn’t really something I wanted to do, but needed to do for my mental health, but I hope to return and finish some fics when I have more distance. From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series is the fandom I have the most written in and I would like to finish my longer stories in the future.

What are your writing strengths?

I love writing prose and my descriptions are very lush. I also have a strong handle on emotion and using acts of intimacy to push the story forward, but also explore character. I’m good at character and relationship studies. I think I’m adept at writing hot sex scenes. I also have a flair for horror in ways I don’t often employ, but love when I get to.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I need to learn how to not get stuck in my own head and trip all over myself and my insecurities. My biggest hurdle is myself and my own mental hangups. I need to learn that it's okay to experiment and try new things and that I don’t need to please everyone, or be liked, I just need to please myself. I also need to work on not being afraid to write longer stuff and embrace that my brain has a lot of ideas that will take time to write

First fandom you wrote for?

Harry Potter. I still have the handwritten notebook pages from when I was 11.

Favorite fic you've written?

I can’t answer this question because if I look at my fics, I will see the flaws. I will say I am proud of everything I finish because it’s often a battle of wills.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this and hasn’t been tagged yet!

#20 questions for writers #pelopides #about me

[bomberqueen17]

steady upward trend-ish

Dude’s symptoms improve by the day; he’s returned to work (remotely), though he is still in isolation on the porch.

I want to sit out there with him it’s the nicest part of the house. he was like “i know that’s why i was gonna stay in the living room, you should sit out here where it’s nice,” which, like, aw, that’s sweet, but bruh i fully do have to spend several hours a day in the kitchen doing all the cooking and washing-up, it’s not like I could sit out there that much anyway.

I have pulled up a chair outside so I keep going out there to sit and shoot the shit with him. That seems sensible. He’s still coughing a bit, so he figures he’ll wait another day or two, and then try taking a rapid test before he takes his mask off around me or like, goes to pick up takeout or anything.

I am working from home today and I’ve been at it for 5.5 hours so far and have transferred twelve ostensibly half-hour videos, and edited two of them. Yes! I realized I have Adobe Premier CS 5.5 on my old computer and guess what it can do, yes it can combine and trim and export .mp4 files, and that is all I need. So this old laptop may wind up with a new lease on life, actually. Not that I’m willing to donate it to work, hell no, but if it makes it so I can do all this work from home easily and not need to go in to work much at all, then I’m gonna do the shit out of that.

I have watched, by the way, two separate live births in these home movies, which like-- I super don’t get why people record that. But I hope this family is delighted to have that footage accessible to them again.

(The one was labeled that. “[Childname]’s Live Birth” as opposed to her egg-hatching? or being laid as an egg? IDK! This is a foreign culture to me.)

Hip is real bad lately so I’ve started riding my recumbent exercise bike. The batteries died in it so it lost the 500 miles I had on the odometer, so I’m starting fresh. I rode five miles on it the other day with no batteries in it, and those will forever not count, alas.... so, four miles down, 496 to go.... It seems to help; the muscles around the hip get painfully tight but 15 minutes on the bike loosens all that up and helps it sort of settle where it’s supposed to be. Yes I’m going to see a doctor soonish, but I know that the first thing they’ll say is “have you tried exercising” and the second will probably be “have you tried losing weight” and the third thing will be “let me know if it doesn’t get any better” after not giving me any more advice, this is my lifelong experience with doctors who won’t attempt to address a condition until the second time you complain about it, so I do want to turn up with 1) this is the problem, 2) these are the times it happens, 3) these are the solutions I have already tried. It’s worth a shot!

(For the record, the single worst thing I can do to my hip is sleep on either side, my front, or my back. The second-worst thing I can do is certain solo adult activities, which are now Illegal; who knew a hip joint could be a prude! Partnered is fine for some reason though, which is.... weird, but for obvious reasons that is currently Not Available to me. Alas.)

I’ve also been doing a bit of sewing. Now that I can edit videos it’s not quite the end of the world if I leave the room and come back and the half-hour tape ended at 21 minutes. I can just trim the deadspace off! (less than 5 minutes I won’t bother fixing but more than that, I figure a customer deserves not to have that to deal with.) So I set a timer and vanish to the basement for 15 minutes, and then I come back up and work on hand-sewing at the table for the last 10 minutes of the tape. I’ve cut out the pieces for one of those boyfriend pillows, and I’m assembling a dress i cut out ages ago. The fact that I can see and smell the outdoors and the weather has been lovely is making this also much more pleasant. And since I’m tied to the kitchen so much, I’ve been keeping up on dishes and cooking a lot. Which is awesome!

The downside is that it’s very easy and addictive to hyperfocus on the next video, the next video, the next video, so I worked 12 hours yesterday and will probably do the same today. It’s fine, I know my boss would be pissed to pay overtime, so I’m just going to take a bunch of this week’s hours and report them for next week, which is awesome. (Am I going to make it so I work 6 hours or less every day so they don’t deduct the half-hour lunch breaks they don’t pay me for that I never take? Maybe. Well I’m not taking the breaks, I’m chained to my watch and I’ve had multiple meals go cold because they were ready but I had to change out the tape.)

Anyway-- today I did take a break, actually, and I spent it sitting in the drive-thru pharmacy line at Rite Aid, to get a proper PCR test. I want negative results before chicken day on Tuesday, so I can be positive I won’t expose anyone. The rapid tests have all been negative but I have multiple friends who’ve tested negative on those but still been contagious, which is what I’m worried about-- I will trust a negative rapid test for Dude because he’s had one come out positive, but I feel like some people just for whatever reason don’t hold the virus in the right place for the rapid test, or just don’t-- vibe with it or whatever. IDK, I’m no scientist, I just know I wanted a Real Test for the chicken crew.

Yes yes I’ve also been writing but that has been sort of scattered. I should have a chapter update for tomorrow though.

#about the author #life update #that quarantine lyfe

[fivelakesinwriting]

Cabin Fever Part 2 {Drew Starkey}

Author's Notes: This is the sequel to Cabin Fever - I hope you all enjoy it. There's a piece of me that feels like I could go on forever about this "trip". Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Warnings: Swearing, Sexual references - sexual innuendos (not smut this time, sorry)

Requested? Nope. I just wanted it. Requests for OBX are open, let's get through these next 4 days together..

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

It had been some time since Drew had heard a groan of frustration behind him on the trail. He stopped, turned on his heel, and shielded his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looked over the bumps in the path to try and spot her.

"C'mon, Little Foot." He called with a smirk.

"That's not fair. I have big feet for a woman my size, and either way - I couldn't keep up with you if I tried." She whined as she made her way over the small hill, her hands cinching her waist to ease a cramp.

"Just a little further, Sweetie. Promise." Drew laughed softly as he reached forward for her hand as she sluggishly made her way down the slope towards him.

She extended her hand out to him and let him tug her towards him, and into his sweaty arms. He placed a soft kiss onto her head before he let her hand go and began to led the way through the trails again, the foliage around them bright and green.

"I thought we were going to play around in the hammock today." She breathed out as she knotted the bottom of her t-shirt and tucked it under, letting her mid- drift breathe.

"We will. There's something I want to show you first." Drew mumbled, a smile on his face as he watched where he stepped as he led them through an uneven part of the path.

She took long, careful steps after him - her eyes on her feet the whole time- as she gripped his hand as tightly as she could, Drew gripping hers back just as tight. He gave her a little tug the rest of the way over the slope in the path, just to prompt her, and pulled her close into his body when they reached his destination.

"Our cabin is just through those trees over there. See that smoke?" He smiled as he turned her body around, her back against his firm body as he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"Is it Rudy?" She grinned as she placed her arms over his, while her head rested back against his solid chest.

"I mean, it could be. But I think it's just the wood stove. Or maybe Chase attempting another bonfire." Drew replied as he pressed a soft kiss to the side of her face.

"Oh my god. He was so bad at it last night." She giggled as she played with the leather band of his watch, her eyes scanning over the horizon of the little lookout he had taken her to.

"I think the fire he built was a distraction to get Madelyn alone. He made it badly on purpose." Drew laughed as he briefly took a hand off his girlfriend to adjust his hat on his head.

"So, does that mean it's your turn to make a bad fire tonight?" She questioned as she turned around in his arms, her hands pressed to his chest.

"I've never made a bad bonfire in my life. It's not part of the Starkey nature to make a bad fire." Drew smirked down at her, eyebrows raised.

"So you won't be building a poor excuse for a fire tonight as a distraction to get me alone?" She asked as she traced over the pattern of his shirt over his heart.

"I don't need distractions to get you alone." Drew grinned as he bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.

She breathed out a smile as she wrapped her arms around his torso, her head rested against his chest as they stood there for a moment. He gave her a gentle squeeze and a playful slap to her backside as he pulled away from her to begin leading her back the way they came, towards their cabin. Which he wasn't entirely sure was not currently on fire.

On the way back to the cabin, Drew decided to walk at a slower pace. Their hands laced together as they simple strolled back towards the cabin, the sun setting rather quickly with each of their steps. The air became crisp around them, Drew pulling her under his arm as they quickly made it through the trees and through the opening to their cabin.

"You guys made it back just in time to watch Chase fuck this up again." Rudy called from the edge of the fire pit, a beer in his hand as he watched with caution as Chase tried to set up the fire.

"I'm not gonna fuck it up." Chase mumbled under his breath as he placed two pieces of firewood against one another, his eyes incredibly focused.

"Stop! You're making me nervous. Move over." Drew shuttered as he took a few steps over to Chase and pushed him aside, taking over to build the fire.

She laughed as she watched the boys briefly wrestle for control of the fire. She wrapped her arms around herself as the sky began to get dark and shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Starkey, I'm going to have a shower and get warm. I think I got bit by about a thousand bugs." She stated as she rubbed her arms for warmth.

"Alright, Sweetie. I'll be right behind you. This won't take me long." Drew grinned as he crunched up some newspaper and placed it beneath the wood he had placed in the pit.

She nodded as she made her way back into the cabin, immediately greeted by the warmth of the wood stove that was cooking their dinner. She took a deep breath in, letting the delicious smells of dinner fill her nostrils as she made her way back to their bedroom and the small bathroom connected.

She stripped out of her clothes, a shiver running through her body as she leaned into the shower and turned on the spray. The steam from the hot water filled the small room. She pulled back the curtain of the shower, stepped in and let the water of the shower warm her skin.

"Damn. It's hot in here." Drew stated as he opened the bathroom door, his voice loud over the shower spray.

"I'm cold!" She called as she stood in the shower, directly under the flow of water.

"Well, make room for me. I'm coming in." Drew laughed softly, his clothes hitting the floor. He pulled back the curtain of the shower, a smile on his face as she squealed when the cold air of the bathroom hit her naked body.

Drew stepped into the shower with her and under the flow of water. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close against his body to let his body warmth take over hers. She leaned her body back against his, her head resting on his chest.

"How did the fire turn out?" She asked softly as they stood under the shower spray, just holding each other.

"It's a beautiful fire. One of the best I've ever made." Drew chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the side of her face.

She mumbled a soft, "good" as she moved her face to the side so he would grant her the service of kissing her face a few more times. Drew happily obliged, his lips trailing from the side of her face, to her jawline and down her neck.

"Do you think there's time to lay in the hammock before dinner?" She smiled, her eyes closed as Drew pressed kiss after kiss along her neck.

"No. But I do think there's time to play in here before dinner." He smiled as he kissed her shoulder, his arms squeezing her tightly against him.

"We can't use up all the hot water again, Drew!" She laughed as she reached a hand back to twist his wet hair around her fingers.

"Well, why not?" Drew grinned as he removed his lips from her shoulder but reached his hands up to palm at her breasts beneath the warm water.

"Because last time, we stayed in the shower for almost an hour and a half and couldn't do dishes after dinner because we used it all." She squealed as his hands grabbed at her.

"I don't think it was that long." Drew grinned before his teeth grazed over her shoulder. He slid his hands down her body to her hips and gently turned her around to face him.

She stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him just a little closer to her height. Drew pressed his forehead to hers as he held on to her hips, keeping her close.

Just as Drew slowly made his way to close the gap between them, about to press his lips to hers again, several loud bangs hit the bathroom door.

"It's barely been ten minutes!" Drew yelled back with a sigh, pulling his forehead back from his girlfriend's.

"Uh. No. It's not that. I killed the fire." Chase called from the other side of the door, his fingertips tapping against the wood.

"He killed the...what do you mean you 'killed' the fire?" Drew sighed as he pushed his wet hair back from his face.

"I tried to move the wood to make the little house like you said, and it fell over." Chase muttered.

"Oh my God." Drew groaned as he tossed his head back, then looked down at his girlfriend with apologetic eyes.

"Go. He clearly needs your help. But I expect some quality time in the hammock later, Starkey." She smirked before she placed a quick kiss on his lips, then turned her back to him to go back to her shower.

"You got it, Sweetie." Drew grinned as he got out of the shower, took one last glance at his girlfriend, then quickly got dressed to go and help Chase rebuild the once perfect fire.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - I'm sorry if it's too short. Maybe another one if there's interest? xoxo

Requests for OBX are open!

#drew starkey #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obxfic #obx fanfiction #obx fluff #obx fic #obx smut

[slytherbun]

🌼 jj maybank fluff with the prompt, “Stop smiling at me. I can’t keep stuttering and messing up my sentences.”

— i personally love this one <3

icee

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 1.1k

note: kinda longer then a drabble and i'm not sure how i feel about this one 🙈 lol but i hope you like it. 💘

another note: 99% of the italics are flashbacks.

you sat on the curb in the downtown area of outer banks. the wreck wasn’t too far from the location of the gas station behind you. 

none of that mattered with a cup of icee in your hands with the straw of it wrapped around your lips. jj couldn’t believe how easy it was to please you. not that you were the type to fold at simple words and actions.

it still surprised him that a quick trip to get you an icee had you smiling in glee. “y/n i have to a-ask—”

“—ask what?” you questioned him after putting down the drink and licking your lips. jj knew exactly what you were doing when he glanced down at your lips and held back a groan. 

he’s wanted to kiss you for forever now and the ‘no pogue on pogue macking’ rule was the only obstacle in his way.

jj wanted to punch john b so bad right now. 

instead of doing what he wanted, jj picked up his cup of soda to take a sip. “i still can’t believe you didn’t get an icee with me. we could have gotten two different flavors and shared.” you frowned but the playful tone suggested you were joking and he sighed.

a freaking straw would probably be the closest he'd ever be to your lips and jj pouted at that particular thought.

“next time i will. i just wanted some sprite though, i’m sorry.” he shrugged.

even though it wasn’t the cherry flavored icee you were eyeing in the mini store, he held out his cup and offered it for you to take anyway.

you watched jj push the dispenser’s button for coke earlier and despite the fact he said it was sprite, you took a small sip. he watched your eyebrows scrunch together and you questioned once more. “but this is coke?”

after coming to that conclusion you realized that he was, in fact, acting weird.

jj looked away and his eyes widened but he shook off the surprise before turning back to look at you with one of his signature smirks. “oh well you know what i meant, sweets.” and he didn't even have to ask you what you were laughing about after hearing you chuckle.

jj realized his mistake right after finishing his sentence.

you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before looking back at jj for his reaction. “sweets, huh? that’s a new one.”

jj did not want to admit that he was a little distracted and called you a nickname that he only used while talking about you to pope.

he desperately tried to change the topic of conversation and pointed to your mouth. “oh, hey look! let me take a picture so you can see how blue your tongue is.”

a smirk instantly formed on your lips at his attempt and not being able to help yourself, you escalated the situation. “no way am i letting you get away without an explanation to my new nickname maybank.”

“what? i can’t try something new?” the blonde was bouncing his knee up and down in anticipation and was practically quivering in the work type of boots that he usually had on, like today.

you picked up the icee from the curb and held it up to him with a gesture to take it from you. “you can call me anything you want. i was just teasing you silly. here, drink some of this and cool down.”

he took your suggestion and leaned down to take a sip from the straw without grabbing it from you. and while he was sipping the straw you could see the blue colored ice coming out from the cup.

you kept looking upwards until you spotted his lips, feeling the same way jj did about the ability of not being able to kiss another pogue.

if only.

he pulled away which broke you out of your thoughts. and you smiled at him, gazing into his blue eyes that you deemed your favorite color the second you met him because they reminded you of the ocean.

jj must have heard those previous thoughts though because one second you were just sitting there, taking in the view and then the next he was speaking with complete honesty.

“stop smiling at me. i can’t keep stuttering and messing up my sentences.” the confession and honesty of his words had you speechless. you were too busy to respond. processing every little thing of what jj said and he ran a hand through his blonde hair out of nervousness.

before jj could take back what he was about to do—he went for it, leaning in and stealing that kiss he’d been craving since he met you in junior high.

after bidding farewell to your parents you got out of the car and looked up at the new school that you were transferring to.

you just moved about three days ago and was still fairly new to outer banks. you didn’t know anybody yet and you fidgeted with the backpack straps on your shoulders.

the building of the school looked intimidating.

the four pogues were walking on the sidewalk after making a stop at the coffee shop on the way to the school. as usual, jj had been complaining about his hunger due to the lack of food he had at home.

of course john b and the others had agreed to make a quick stop since they all wanted a variety of drinks and coffee as well.

the maybank’s boy stopped on the concrete at the sight of you standing there. the other’s continued walking until pope noticed he had stopped.

“something wrong? we got you your breakfast.” kie chuckled and jj looked at her with a quick smile but glanced back over at you again.

he was half paying attention to what the others were saying and walked over to you instead. the blonde held up a paper bag in your direction.

“what’s this?” you questioned and hesitantly took it from him to peek inside. "a glazed donut. i hope the flavor is okay.” he said and you nodded with a blush.

“i don’t usually take anything from strangers though.” you said with a hint, playing it cool and not wanting to make the introduction awkward.

he thrusted a hand out for you to shake and you took it with a grip as firm as a seventh grade girl could have. “i’m jj maybank and you are?”

with a smile you replied. “y/n y/l/n. it’s nice to meet you jj.”

and jj was happy he arrived later than usual that day because met you.

#jj maybank #outer banks #jj x reader #outer banks x reader #celebration #jj maybank drabble #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank one shot #obx x reader #jj one shot #jj fluff #fluff

[emerald-chaos]

Already Gone

**gif not mine, credit to the owner below!!**

Oh hohohohoho besties. You are in for it on this one. The other night I had an idea that popped into my head and to say I got carried away with it would be a gross understatement. This is the first time I've written smut in forever so bear with me as I get back in to it. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, please feel free to send feedback!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k (oops)

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (MINORS DNI), language, ANGST (holy shit is there angst), fingering, unprotected sex (please be smarter than these two), infidelity, and I think that's about it? Please let me know if I left something off.

A/N: Thanks to my sweet, sweet friend who read through this for me and helped me fix a few things. Also I take the, MINORS DNI, warning very seriously, so please only interact if you are of age. Please have your age in your bio so I can confirm. By clicking "read more" you agree to this. I really don't want to have to block people.

The cacophonous trill of shattering glass erupted through the space. Raised voices, thick with rage, echoed off the walls. It was difficult to tell which words were coming from which mouth, the both of you overlapping as you spewed out hatred toward one another.

“What in God’s name is going on here?!” Steve shouted as he entered the room, coming back from a late night run at the most inopportune time.

“Stay the fuck out of it!” Your two voices shrilled together as you both pointed toward Steve.

You could feel your chest heaving and it almost felt as though you were foaming at the mouth. Rage was completely consuming every crevice of your body and spilling out into your actions and your words. You turned back to the object of your aggression and watched as he ran a hand through his hair and turned to walk away from you.

“You’re nothing but a coward, James Barnes. A goddamn selfish, son-of-a-bitch, coward!” You screamed with every ounce of energy you had left in your body.

The two of you had some knock-down drag-outs in your past, but it was nothing compared to this. Months of pent up feelings, insecurities, jealousies, and secrets were all coming to a head at this very moment. The last few months the two of you had been incredibly short with one another - a stark contrast from your usual loving tone. Passionate kisses became brief pecks to the cheek, midnight roaming hands became backs set to one another, and ‘i love you’s’ felt more like a habit than a genuine feeling. In your heart you feared it would come to this one day. No matter how hard you tried, how much you wanted to, you were never going to be able to fix what had been done to the man you loved. There was no amount of love in the world that could reverse the tragedy of the Winter Soldier - at least that’s what you were convinced of now.

The man in front of you turned and strode across the room, minimizing the space between the two of you. His metal hand in a fist as he brought it up to jab a finger into the middle of your chest. Pupils were blown wide, what was once a lustful look was now filled with only pure anger. As he opened his mouth to speak, spit flew into your face.

“And you are a self-righteous, ignorant, self-important bitch!”

As your eyes raked over the contorted facial features of the man standing in front of you, you realized you couldn’t recognize them. The man standing in front of you was not Bucky. It was not the man who twirled a strand of your hair when he sat with his arm behind your chair, not the man who pulled over the car to help a turtle cross the road, and definitely not the man who held you in his arms as he cried after a nightmare. The man standing in front of you was a frightening enigma of hatred and rage. This was not your Bucky. In fact, you were almost certain you lost your Bucky months ago.

* * *

You hadn’t noticed the bouncing of your knee until the man who sat beside you gently cupped it with his hand, stilling your nervous movements. It was enough to break you from your thoughts as you turned your head to meet his kind eyes.

“We don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll have them turn the car around and we’ll go back to the airport. We catch the next flight back home.” He whispered in reassurance. Even though your mind was anxiously racing, you couldn’t help but smile at the compassionate gesture.

“Of course we do,” you started, cupping his cheek with your hand as the sunlight glinted off your pristine wedding ring, “Tony was one of the most important people in my life. Plus, I’m pretty sure he would haunt me if I didn’t go to his funeral.”

8 years ago you promised yourself in the taxi ride to the airport that you would never step foot in this place again. That all changed when you got the news of Tony’s death. Your time working with the Avengers was a life-changing experience and it was all thanks to Tony. The memory of him seeking you out to work alongside Dr. Banner in the research lab was one that you could never forget. Tony was an arrogant, pompous asshole but he was undeniably a good man. You would curse yourself for the rest of your days if you let your own baggage get in the way of that.

“Alright,” your husband responded with a sigh as he squeezed your knee, “But please, promise you’ll tell me if there’s anything I can do for you.”

“Promise.” An agreement that you sealed with a kiss.

Mike was a good man, he was someone who cared for you deeply and who made you feel safe. After your transfer to the DC Shield Office, you had sworn off any more office romances. Those never ended well. That was until your path crossed with Mike. From the beginning of the relationship, you were upfront about your past issues with relationships and how you weren’t ready to dive into anything and he simply stated that he was okay with that, that he would wait.

The marriage was a happy one, Mike always playing the role of doting, caring husband. No matter how much you pushed back against him, he was always willing to give you space and to let you feel what you were experiencing. Mike was a good man. But he wasn’t him.

Your gaze left his as your eyes returned to the skyline, the familiar pressure clawing its way back to your chest. It’d been 8 years since you saw him. 8 years since you packed your bags and left the only home you’d ever truly known. Sure, you had this new life - a new husband, new friends, new job with similar duties, but there was still a piece of you that was missing. A piece you knew could never possibly be filled again. You had come to terms with that, slowly, but it had happened eventually. Now that you were back, you knew you were going to have to see him again - see all of them again. While a lot of good memories resided within this area, there was a hell of a lot of pain that went along with it. All you could do in that moment was remind yourself that you were here for Tony - to honor his memory and pay your respects. You didn’t owe anything else to anyone else. Something in your chest, however, told you that wouldn’t be the way things played out.

* * *

The service was beautifully executed. It was obvious that Pepper had poured her heart and soul into ensuring that Tony Stark was remembered as he should have been. The walls of your heart tightened as you saw Pepper clutching their young daughter to her side. Although Tony had made a lot of mistakes in his life, he spent his last years making sure to do good and to make things right. While it felt like a hot knife had been stabbed into your chest as you said goodbye to a once dear friend, you took solace in knowing that Tony was so loved by so many. That his legacy would live on in so many different ways. And that Pepper was there to say goodbye.

It had been your plan to attend the service and then leave immediately after it had ended. Of course, life has a funny way of never doing quite what we want it to.

It was Sam who stopped you first, pulling you into a tight hug against his form as your fingers gripped his jacket. Sam, being the angel he was, never once mentioned anything from the past and instead expressed his happiness with seeing you again and learning that you were doing well. The one thing Sam was not good at however, was keeping his mouth shut. Word quickly traveled through the crowd of your attendance and one by one old friends began to find you. Wanda didn’t have much to say but kept you in a grateful embrace while you expressed your condolences for Vision. In a shocking turn of events, It was actually Peter who was the most difficult to see. The once bright, happy-go-lucky, smiling boy was visibly devastated - heavy dark bags lingered under his eyes and his glow had been severely dimmed by the loss of his mentor. You couldn’t help but cry as you held him in your arms, expressing to him how proud of him Tony was and how he’d told you just that on several occasions.

After the hellos, the hugs, and the reminiscing you had told yourself that was it, that you were going to leave. It was then that Pepper stopped you with a soft hand on your shoulder, a kind smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and a warm embrace. After a pause of silence, she pulled away and invited you and Mike to stay for the gathering that had been planned following the service. Your mind screamed at you, begging you to politely decline - tell her you had to get back to DC, that you had a flight already booked that you couldn’t miss, that you had important business to get back to.

“Of course, Pepper. We’d love to.”

* * *

The gathering was exactly what Tony would have wanted. It was family and friends gathered around eating and drinking, but most of all - it was a bunch of people talking about Tony Stark.

You told Mike before the two of you arrived that you would stay for 20 minutes tops. That it simply would be out of respect for Pepper and once you felt your presence had been noted that the two of you would slip out unnoticed in the sea of people.

That was 2 hours ago.

Laughs came easy, tears flowed frequently, and stories were shared amongst friends. Surprising to you, it felt good to be around these people again. A familiar pang of home would hit you every now and again as you reconnected with those who you hadn’t seen in years. You introduced Mike to your old friends, who welcomed him warmly and with open arms. What you had thought would be a stressful, gut-wrenching day had actually turned out to be a joyful celebration of life. The day had been progressing smoothly and you wanted to chastise yourself for being so pessimistic.

That was, until you saw him.

Hands stuffed into the pockets of a black bomber jacket, long chestnut hair falling onto his shoulders, and a familiar collection of facial hair decorating the lower half of his face. He looked as terrible as you felt at the beginning of the day. Dark circles had only grown more prominent beneath his beautiful blue eyes and the corners of his lips were drawn down in a permanent frown. You couldn’t help but notice that he’d lost a considerable amount of weight. The once broad, thick man was now far more lean and toned than you ever remember him being.

A breath caught in your throat as the cerulean eyes met yours. Unable to stop yourself, you shoved your drink into Mike’s chest and hurried off to the nearest bathroom. Barely making it in time, you emptied your day’s stomach contents into the toilet. Breathing heavily, you fought back sobs as they threatened to leave your throat. To anyone else, it may seem you were simply grieving the loss of your friend, perhaps taking it harder than most. Oh how you wish that were the case.

You knew it would be difficult to see him again, but you didn’t expect it to feel as though someone had set your entire body ablaze. The heavy feeling of grief, anxiety, and stress from the beginning of the day was crushing your lungs, your stomach still trying to lurch although it had nothing left to give up, and tears burned the rims of your eyes. As you cleaned yourself up and flushed the toilet, you exited the stall to wash your hands and rinse your mouth. You tried to convince yourself it was the entire day's worth of emotions that had led you to this moment. That man no longer had this kind of hold on you - you had moved on. Or, so you thought.

Slowly, your gaze met your reflection in the mirror. The woman there looked worn and tired, like she had been fighting a raging war that she had been losing miserably. Mascara had begun to run down the apples of her cheeks and lipstick was smeared across her mouth. A heavy sigh left your lips as you did your best to make yourself more presentable. A shaky hand entered your clutch as you retrieved your lipstick and applied another layer. You gave yourself a final once-over and decided that your current appearance was as good as it was going to get. Just as you were going to turn around and return to the party there was movement in the mirror that caught your eye. The door was being pushed open from the outside. You turned to protest, to let the intruder know that the bathroom was occupied.

“Excuse me, sorry, there’s someone--”

It felt as though all the air had been taken from your lungs and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as you came face to face with the man you had tried so hard, for so long, to forget. It was as though you were frozen in time, as if he were Medusa - turning you instantly to stone. Logically, the thing to do would be to tell him to get out or for you to leave the bathroom so that he could occupy the space alone. However, all you could do was stand and watch as he closed the bathroom door behind him, as his fingers closed around the lock and clicked it into place.

Then it was just the two of you. Bodies unmoving, aside from the rapid rise and fall of your chests in tandem. The air felt 100 degrees warmer than it had when you were alone. The silence, paired with the thump of your heartbeat, was deafening to your ears. You were hyper-aware of his gaze as he studied you the way you had him not minutes before. His eyes finally met yours once more and there was a poignant silence before he finally spoke.

“Can’t believe you still have that dress.”

Your eyes blinked a few times, brain trying to process his words and the situation you had currently found yourself to be in. You looked down to the front of your dress and smoothed your hands down it. How could you have gone the whole day without realizing that the dress you were wearing had been a gift from Bucky on your first anniversary? You were positive you had rid yourself of anything even remotely related to him. In fact, you distinctly recall dumping a box of momentos into a barrel and tossing a lit match inside. You don’t remember making the conscious decision to keep the dress, or why you would have made the decision. Now here you were - mere feet away from the man who had put it on and so delicately took it off of you many times.

“S’perfectly good dress. Shouldn’t go to waste.” Was all you could muster as a response in that moment.

The man before you took a step forward and you took a step back, hips coming into contact with the cold marble counter of the sink.

“Thought I’d never see you again. Y’look...different.” His gaze roaming its way down your body once more.

As his eyes landed on the diamond ring nestled onto the 4th finger of your left hand, you felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

“Congratulations.” His words were cold. Inauthentic. “He’s a lucky guy.”

“What the fuck are you doing in here, James?” The words were supposed to be sharp, but instead came out shaky and insecure.

“Saw you out there, starin’ at me. Guess I just wanted a closer look at you.”

By the end of the sentence he had closed the gap between the two of you even more, chests threatening to bump one another. His metal hand slowly reached forward and brushed a piece of hair off your shoulder. The cool appendage felt like fire against your skin and you know he heard the way you sharply inhaled, but you just couldn’t help it. You swallowed hard, head reeling and knees trying to buckle beneath you when you felt his cool palm cup your fiery cheek. It took everything in your body to avert your eyes from him, especially when you felt him even closer than before - warm breath fanning the expanse of your face. Why was he doing this? What was he going to accomplish? The fight or flight response in your body was screaming at you to push him away and run, but you didn’t.

“I’ve thought about you every day since you left, sweets. There’s not a moment that passes by where you’re not on my mind.”

Your eyes closed tightly, tears now welling up and spilling over.

“Everything you said about me that night was true. I am a coward. A coward who lost the best fuckin’ thing that ever happened to his sorry, broken ass.”

A small sob escaped your chest as your hand flew to your mouth, failing to keep it from tumbling out. Bucky found a loose thread and was slowly unraveling everything you’d worked toward in the last 8 years, every step toward progress and peace that you had worked so hard to find.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, doll” Bucky was now fully cupping your face with his large, calloused hands, “I’m so sorry that you fell in love with someone like me - a broken son of a bitch who never got put back together. I’m sorry that I hurt you so badly. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you the way I promised I would. I’m sorry that -”

In a moment of weakness, before he could finish his sentence, you were crashing your lips to his. There was nothing else that existed in your world - there was only you and there was only Bucky. Seemingly moving on their own accord, your hands found their way into his hair, grasping wildly for something to hold on to. As your fingers tugged on his roots, Bucky let out a deep moan into the kiss, sending a shiver down your spine.

The kiss was sloppy and desperate, all tongue and teeth. It was a balance of dominance between the two of you - although you were the one who initiated the kiss, Bucky was the first one to gain access to the inside of your mouth, and you were the first to tug his lower lip between your teeth. A pathetic mewl left your lips as Bucky’s mouth began trailing wet kisses across your jaw and down the column of your throat. The heartbeat in your ears from earlier was much worse now, making your head throb in pain. Every nerve ending in your body felt as though it was on fire and a small voice in the back of your head kept pleading with you to stop. For a moment you entertained the idea of shoving him off and telling him to fuck off, but that was before he started sucking that spot on your neck that he knew drove you mad. It was your turn to moan this time as you involuntarily arched your back, pressing yourself up against his firm torso.

You knew the way that you were tugging on the strands of his hair had to be incredibly painful but it only seemed to urge Bucky to continue. A soft gasp tumbled past your lips as you felt Bucky’s thigh push against your aching core. The sensation had you digging your fingernails into the back of his jacket as you finally released your grip on his hair. Before you could stop yourself, you could feel your hips grinding yourself down against his clothed thigh. Your dress had been pushed up around your waist, now only a small piece of cloth covering you as you desperately chased a high.

“I shoulda never let you go. Shoulda been at the airport to stop you before you got on that plane.”

His teeth sunk into your pulse point once more, earning himself another moan from your lips. The sting was soon replaced with the cool sensation of his tongue tracing the marks he had left.

“I love you, doll. I haven’t ever stopped lovin’ you.”

“Show me,” you whimpered pathetically against his shoulder, “show me you love me, Bucky. Please.”

An audible breath caught in his throat as he pulled himself back to look at you. Your chest was heaving, make-up smeared once more, and your pupils were blown wide with lust. You obviously weren’t able to see the look you gave him, but judging by the way he looked back at you it was fair to say you looked broken, pathetic, and desperate for him. The eyes looking back at you had the softness to them that you remember, the strokes of his hands against your body contained the passion that you’d so been longing for, and the tone in his voice told you that he was desperate for you too.

Within seconds your feet were lifted from the ground and your ass made contact with the cold, wet countertop. There wasn’t a lot of room, objects were scattered onto the floor and others were left to push into your hips with aggressive force, but you just didn’t care. It was impossible to care when Bucky moved your knees apart and dragged a finger along your clothed pussy. The sensation made your head fall back against the mirror with a hard thud but you couldn’t feel any of the pain from it at all. The only thing you felt was the way electricity rippled through your body when he used his thumb to apply pressure to your aching clit. Bucky groaned and rested his forehead against yours, lips slightly parted as he felt your need for him growing.

“So wet for me, just like I remember. Lemme make you feel good, sweets, hmm?” He had leaned forward to whisper softly in your ear as his teeth grazed your lobe.

It was you who reached down and shoved your panties down your thighs, meeting a surprised look from Bucky as he helped you drag them down to hang around your ankle. Bucky’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he hooked his hands underneath your knees to spread your legs open for him. Another groan came from him, this time more guttural than the last. You felt small underneath his gaze and the cool air in the bathroom brushing across your soaking core made you shiver.

Your hand flew to your mouth to suppress the noises you made as his finger slipped through your folds, running up and down to collect your wetness.

“More. God. Please, Buck. Need more.” You whined, attempting to roll your hips against his hand to find any form of friction that you could.

“Anything for you, baby.” He whispered as he gently inserted a finger inside of you. The two of you moaned in tandem.

There was a brief moment of embarrassment with the way your walls immediately clenched around his finger and the way his finger immediately found that soft spot. It was shortly replaced with a feeling of ecstasy. Bucky captured your lips with his to swallow your moans as he added another finger. The way his fingers were curling and pumping inside of you already had you close to the edge. Bucky pulled back and held your gaze as he added pressure to your clit with his thumb, circling the area as his fingers continued to repeatedly hit that spot inside of you.

“Please, please don’t stop.” You begged as you felt the pressure building within the lower part of your body.

“S’okay. I’m right here.” Bucky’s other hand was cradling the back of your head as he whispered to you. “I know you’re close. Can feel you squeezin’ me. You can let go for me, I got you.”

As your eyes met his, foreheads pressed together, you finally came apart. The white hot sensation tears through you as your legs quake. You squeeze your eyes shut and allow Bucky to help you ride through your orgasm as he peppers light kisses along your neck.

“I almost forgot how pretty you look when you cum.”

You whine at the emptiness and loss of contact when Bucky removes his fingers from your center. As your eyes flutter open you see him push the fingers into his mouth and suck them clean. The look on his face was euphoric.

“God. Almost forgot how fuckin’ sweet you taste too.”

Mustering up all the strength you had, you sat up and pulled him closer by his belt. The two of you worked together to rid him of his pants and boxers. Your hand wrapped around him, thumb swiping the red tip and using the pre-cum to help lubricate as you pumped your hand down his length. Bucky’s jaw clenched as he moaned at the sensation. Just as you were going to leave the counter, you felt his hands grabbing your shoulders and halting your movements.

“Maybe a different time, sweets. But right now I gotta be inside you.”

You caught your bottom lip as you nodded and released your hold on him. Bucky’s hands wrapped around your thighs as he pulled your hips to the edge of the sink. The metal hand left your thigh as he grabbed himself at the base and pushed his length through your folds. The two of you once more shared a moan at the sensation. As he lined himself up with your entrance, your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him in for another kiss. The next thing you felt was the familiar sting of his cock stretching your walls as he slid into you. Your lips left his and your forehead found itself pressed against his once more. Both of you panting heavily as neither of you dared to speak a word.

Following a moment of silence, allowing your body time to stretch to accommodate him, you nodded slowly as to signal to him that it would be okay for him to move. His thrusts were slow and calculated at first, as if he was attempting to regain his memory of your body - one that he once knew so well. You couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his shoulder as you held on to him for dear life, subconsciously afraid that if you were to let go of him he’d be gone again forever.

“Faster, Bucky. Please.” You whimpered into his ear as you took his earlobe between your teeth and nibbled softly.

A low growl left his chest as he grabbed your hips and lifted you off the counter, moving slightly so that he could cage your body against the wall. You wrapped your legs firmly around his waist, locking them at the ankle. His thrusts became faster, deeper, and it was apparent he had gained his confidence back.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, baby. Just the way I remember.” He grunted as he dug his fingers harder into your hips.

His lips were on yours again, this time tears were starting to decorate the corners of your eyes. The pleasure, the regret, the passion, the guilt - every feeling was building up along with your orgasm. Bucky pulled away from the kiss to tap on your bottom lip with two of his fingers, which you greedily accepted into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around his digits until he pulled them out and used them to circle your clit. The added pleasure was almost too much to handle.

“C’mon, baby. Wanna cum with you. Can you do that for me, huh?” Bucky whimpered, his thrusts beginning to falter from the calculated snaps he was giving you before.

All you could do was nod your head quickly as the pressure steadily increased, bringing you to the brink of your second orgasm.

“I love you. I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much, oh my god.” Bucky grunted as the two of you reached your peak together.

You leaned forward to bite down on his shoulder and suppress the scream that left your mouth as pleasure erupted through your body. The two of you assisted each other through the high of your release and you felt your ass make contact with the cool countertop once more.

The only noise present in the space was your heavy breathing and a small dripping noise that came from the sink. Bucky’s final words before he came replayed in your head over and over again as you attempted to slow your breathing and bring yourself back down to earth. Your body shuttered slightly as Bucky slipped himself out of you. As you sat up, you noticed he was looking around the bathroom.

“Shit, sweets. I don’t think there’s anything I can use to help clean you up.” He sighed and turned to meet your gaze that was locked upon him.

“It’s fine, Buck. Not a big deal.”

Bucky bent over and helped you pull your panties back on before he redressed himself. Neither of you spoke for what felt like eternity.

“I-...” You muttered finally, “I love you too, Buck. I thought I was over you, I thought I moved on but...I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you no matter how hard I try.”

Bucky reached out to stroke your cheek with the back of his hand as he listened to you lament to him. His eyes were soft and caring and you could almost swear he was looking into the depths of your soul.

“I think —“

Your conversation was cut short by the sound of knocking at the bathroom door.

“Hey, are you okay in there? Do you need anything?” Mike’s voice had your entire body flooded with the shame of your infidelity. In one swift movement, you were on the floor and turning the sink on to make it appear you were just washing your hands.

“Y-yeah I’m fine! Just finishing up! I’ll find you out there in a minute!” You squeaked.

Mike seemed to pause for a moment before you heard his footsteps retreat from the bathroom door. A wave of relief washed over you, but it was only temporary. As soon as you were relaxed the gravity of the situation you were in was clouding you once more.

“I have to go. I can’t give him any reason to think he needs to come in here.” Bucky nodded, eyes not leaving yours as you spoke while collecting yourself, “but we need to..we should..we have to address this. Later.”

“I agree.”

“Our flight leaves tomorrow night. I’ll...see what I can come up with as far as an excuse. Then we can put this to bed for good.”

“Absolutely, sweets.”

The nickname made your knees buckle once more as you sighed.

“Goodbye, James.”

You finally tore your eyes from his as you unlocked the door and slipped out of the bathroom. In reality, however, you knew this really wasn’t goodbye. Not even close.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky smut #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #bucky x you #bucky fic #sebastian stan character #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #smut #marvel smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #Sebastian stan

[random-imagines-blog]

Just in Your Heart {Taylor Swift x ChubbyMale!Reader}

Requested by: @lunchawx Wordcount: 2114 Summary: After five years of dating, you’re finally thinking of making it social-media official. Warnings: Fat shaming.

You weren’t the sort of person that most people would picture Miss Americana herself to date. Taylor Swift had gone out with some of the best looking, or at least according to the media’s standards best looking - men in the world. You didn’t need to go over them. The tabloids did that enough for you on a daily basis. But the point was that you were the opposite of a lot of these men. You weren’t in the entertainment industry. You weren’t rich. You weren’t famous. You didn’t have a six pack or a chiseled chest or that rugged jaw line or any of those things. You had worked your way up to being a curator at a Museum in New York - not one of the biggest ones, mind you, but big enough to where you always had a lot on your plate. You were overweight according to your doctor though you ate healthy and tried to get lots of exercise. And you had next to no social media presence, only followed by your friends and family - not even Taylor as for the most part, you both agreed on keeping you out of the spotlight, much as that sometimes hurt. But then again - you both had been together for five years now, and you weren’t being picked apart by the media. That was nice.

“Do you think that this is folded in enough? I always think of that scene in Sleeping Beauty where they actually fold them in,” Taylor laughed, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you had stopped at the grocery store to get the ingredients for baking night, you of course had seen Taylor on the magazines. Stepping out with new ‘mystery man’ it had reported. It was only her new bodyguard and would be forgotten in a week or so but it was still a bit annoying to be surrounded by rumors of your own girlfriend.

“Yeah, that looks good babe,” You’d say, looking into her bowl. It was cake night in your shared apartment. The whole quarantine thing had the both of you at home a lot more, though you did still have to go to work, so you were trying new hobbies. Baking had been Taylor’s idea, and it was something you had shot down at first considering your weight, but she was so insistant. She had given you those puppy dog eyes you couldn’t resist. Those baby blues had you saying yes every time. “No shells this time?”

“Oh my god, it was one time, let it go,” Taylor laughed, going for the next couple of ingredients. “I don’t think that you put enough chocolate in yours.”

“It’s a light chocolate cake, not a Devil’s Food Cake. I’m still watching my weight, remember?” You kept on whipping the eggs until they were light and fluffy, and then finally folded your own into the rest of the mixture. “This will probably be my lunch tomorrow,” You joked.

“I’ll make you something, don’t worry,” She said, putting a kiss on your cheek, transferring a bit of flour that she had on her nose onto your skin. You laughed and wiped it off. “What were you thinking about?”

“Saw you on the cover of another magazine today,” You said, slipping behind her, taking the chance to run your hands across her waist as you went to grab one of the cake pans you already prepped. “They’re thinking that Greg is your new boyfriend. It’s really throwing them off that you’re not out there dating openly anymore.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious. I’m sure his wife is going to love that,” Taylor laughed, not taking it seriously. Being in the industry since she was a teenager meant that she had to develop that tough skin. You loved that about her. You only wished that you had been able to do that yourself. “Oh, let’s take a picture before we pop these into the oven.”

Always the change of subject. But you gave in, as you always did, giving her a little nod. She pulled out her phone, turned the front camera on, and snapped a picture of her kissing your cheek while the full cake pans were waiting on the counter. You were grinning, you couldn’t help it. Every time that this wonderful, beautiful woman gave you attention, you were fawning for it. You couldn’t wait to make her your wife. Just a little longer. Just getting the ring sized.

And then the pans went into the oven, and you settled back down on the couch, looking for something to watch while waiting for the timers. Taylor went straight to Law and Order. Of course. You even bobbed your head to the theme tune. Her favorite show in the whole world. She cuddled up to you, hand and head resting on your barrel-like chest. When she touched you like this, it was hard to feel insecure. And the way that she looked up at you whenever the screen went dark between scenes - still made you feel like blushing to this day.

Once the timer went off, cake out of the oven, it was the only part of this whole baking thing that you really enjoyed. Decorating. Tongue in cheek, going over the layers with the icing that you had managed to make look tie-dye with different colors. “What do you think, fruit maybe? Some whipped cream?” You looked over to see what she was doing, only to see that she was literally throwing sprinkles on top of the icing. Making a huge mess, but it was cute to see her looking so joyous.

“Whatever you want,” She’d say, bending low, turning the plate to see the other side of the cake, and then threw even more sprinkles. One thing could be said for her method - she was thorough. There was hardly an inch on it that was untouched. You looked back at your own which was looking plain in comparison, and started chopping up some fruit to put on the top. At least give some semblance of it being healthy. That way you wouldn’t feel as guilty when you went to the doctor next and explained what you’ve been eating. “I can’t wait to try yours,” Taylor said, sticking a finger in your spare icing and dabbed some of it on the tip of your nose with a giggle. Her eyes were lit up from the inside out. She looked happy. Truly happy. “Can we take another photo?”

“Can I at least get this off of my nose first?” You laughed. She shook her head no, and this time in the photo, she was licking it right off of you, the cakes on full display in front of you. Your face was scrunched up from the attention on your nose, which made her laugh when she saw it.

“This is really cute. I might even post it,” She teased, tongue in cheek.

“Doubtful,” You chuckled, and grabbed a knife to make the first cuts.

“No, really,” She said, leaning against the counter, looking at the picture on her phone. “We’ve been together five years now and I haven’t really been able to tell anyone but our close friends and family.”

“Does anyone else matter?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Everyone that I care about knows about you. Why does the whole world?”

“I just - I don’t want you to feel like I’m ashamed of you when I’m not. I’d love to start posting pictures of us, like normal couples do.”

“We’re not a normal couple,” You pointed out. She was pouting again, but this time it didn’t look like she was trying to get what she wanted. She looked genuinely upset. You watched her for a minute as she dropped a couple more sprinkles on spots that she missed, trying to keep her hands busy. “Okay. Fine. You can post one tomorrow if you really want. But can we just relax tonight?”

“Okay,” She said, tucking a long blonde piece of hair behind her ear and smiled. She looked happy again. And that’s the way that you wanted to keep her forever.

-

Your phone was left in your office for most of the day while you were working on the usual day-to-day activities of the museum. You had forgotten your little agreement with Taylor the night before, having settled back in for a night of watching Olivia Benson on the television solving cases.

So when you finally had a chance to sit down and look at your phone, you were surprised to see that it was dead. You plugged it into your spare charger only for it to turn on and have hundreds - maybe even more notifications. You had to quickly go into your settings and try to turn them off so that you could have a breath. That was when you remembered, and immediately opened up instagram. 2.6 million follow requests. Jesus. At least your account was on private, who knows what they would have done if they had been able to go thorugh your photos and comment on them.

You’d leave those for another time to deal with. The next time that you were taking the subway and had nothing else better to do. But for now, you went to Taylor’s profile, where you were one of her millions of followers, never anything special until now. The two pictures from the night before, kissing and silly icing on your nose. ‘#bakingwithboyfriend.’

Over three million likes. Comments galore. And most of them were not of the nice and supportive kind.

‘Oh my god, is this some body positivity stunt?’ 'This is literally like three of her exes put together, weightwise. ‘ 'Must be really rich or have great dick’

There were other ones that were much more rude, but you weren’t going to go through them. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t do that to yourself. You put the phone back down, face down so that you wouldn’t have to look at it, or at the very least be a lot less tempted.

“Mr y/l/n,” Your assistant said, poking his head into the office. His face was looking flushed, so that already gave you an idea of what was going on. He already knew about your relationship, but that didn’t stop him from having fan-boy moments whenever Taylor came in. “She’s here to see you.”

“She can come in,” You said with a nod. He popped his head back out and the tall, lithe figure of Taylor, as dressed down as she could be, walked into the stuffy room. She smiled nervously and sat down across from you in the spot where donors or assistants usually would sit.

“You saw those comments, didn’t you?” Taylor said. You simply nodded. “I already talked to my publicist and we’re going to be taking comments off all of my posts. It isn’t right. Any of it.”

“Can’t say that it wasn’t expected though,” You admitted, leaning back in your chair. “I’m not Styles or Hiddleston.”

“That’s why I love you,” Taylor insisted. “You’re not any of those men, you’re you. They’ve got nothing, nothing at all, on you.”

“But I’m apparently three of them,” You laughed humorlessly. “Look, I knew what I was getting into by falling in love with you. I can accept it. Just sucks that the day had come after all.”

Taylor was quiet for a moment, but then she leaned forward over the desk, and took hold of your hands, giving them a squeeze with her well manicured fingers. “You’re everything to me, y/n. And I just want to show you that. I want to show the whole world that.”

“I know. I know,” You breathed out with a sigh. “Were any of the comments good?”

“Selena is going apeshit in the comments. Or at least she was while I was on the way here. Threatening to fight some of the people saying the worst things but I already deleted most of the really bad ones. I have my publicist on it. Some of them were really positive though. You’re really handsome. Some of them are threatening to come after you when we break up.”

“Ha, like that’s ever going to happen,” You said, shaking your head. “You’re it for me, baby.”

“You’re it for me too,” Taylor said, raising your hands up to kiss the tops of them. Your unmusical hands. “So - are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’ll get over it. I guess. More incentive to go to the gym maybe. Gotta show your millions of fans that you can still get a buff guy after all.”

“Don’t change yourself too much,” She’d say, smiling. “You’re perfect. Completely and utterly ... perfect.”

#Taylor Swift #Taylor Swift x reader #Taylor Swift oneshot #celebrity #celebrity oneshot #onreshot #one shot #request #x reader #taylors

[sit-down-and-shut-up]

time- a. hotchner

SUMMARY: you get kidnapped lol

WARNINGS: kidnapping (duh), some injuries but everyone lives, aaron being m a d, and reader being a freaking baddie

WORDS: too many 6604

A/N: sorry that it’s been a hot minute since i posted, im lazy

Aaron glanced up as the workday finally drew to a close, watching you wave goodbye to the team and stroll towards the unit chief’s office, just in time to see JJ as she ascended the steps on her way to the room as well. You started to wave, but JJ murmured something you couldn’t make out and you stopped. Aaron’s blood ran cold, and he mentally cursed himself for being naive enough to believe that things would work out for once. He turned to look at Emily and Morgan through the blinds, who’d been talking near Emily’s desk, and saw their eyes trained on you and JJ. Emily swore under her breath, then headed to the conference room with Spencer and Derek not far behind.

+++++

Aaron sat down next to you in the conference room, meeting your eyes and giving you a halfhearted smile. You returned the gesture and went back to scanning the grisly photos before you. He zoned out as JJ spoke, giving the rundown on each of the girls that had been abducted, then murdered mere hours later. The murders seemed somewhat random, with the exception that the victims were all girls in their upper 20’s. In fact, they were all 29, just like you were.

Something clicked in your mind, but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions. You could feel Aaron’s steely gaze on you, and you wondered briefly if he could tell what you were thinking. You were lost in your thoughts, to the point where you didn’t hear Aaron’s deep “Wheels up in 30.” After everyone had left the conference room, Aaron turned back to see you still staring at the photos, searching for something you couldn’t quite name among the blood spatters and empty faces. He walked over to you and gently tapped your shoulder, causing your head to whip up to face him. Realization washed over your eyes, and you mumbled an apology.

Aaron shook his head in response, saying “I’m sorry. I was hoping we’d actually get to go out tonight.” You sighed, then replied.

“Who knows? Maybe the unsub will be caught by the time we get there and we can go get dinner or something.” You laughed as you said it, but your laughter was tinged with a resigned sadness Aaron despised, wishing he could take you somewhere you’d never be forced to feel this way again. Aaron watched you for a few seconds longer, as your face darkened and you grabbed your files and left the room, heading to his office, where both of your go-bags were. He wanted to tell you so much, but wasn’t sure how to start. He wanted to tell you that he’d been planning to propose this evening, that he wanted to be with you forever. But he couldn’t.

+++++

Aaron noticed you lost in your thoughts again on the plane ride while the rest of the team went over the case. The sheer amount of bodies was enough to give someone pause. In addition, the unsub took a girl each Thursday, but never kept them for more than a few hours. Why?

The plane ride felt fairly short. You were hit with a wave of nostalgia as the plane touched down in New York, where you’d gone to college years earlier, and worked before you were transferred to the Behavioral Analysis Unit and moved to Quantico. As you walked into the FBI field office with the rest of the BAU, you couldn’t stop your mind from remembering the last time you’d been in the building, when working a terrorism case alongside Agent Joyner four years earlier.

She’d been killed immediately by a bomb in your SUV, and metal had been lodged in your left leg, cutting the femoral artery and nearly causing you to bleed out. If not for your Aaron, you would’ve died there, on the cold pavement. When Aaron came to visit you while you recovered from surgery, you managed to slur out that you loved him. At the time, he blamed it on the drugs you were on, until he showed up at your hospital room again a few hours later, to drive you home. You’d suffered hearing loss as well, and coupled with your leg injury, you couldn’t go in the field or on the plane for a while. As he helped you up and handed you the crutches you’d be relying on for nearly a year, you met his eyes and said confidently, “I meant what I said earlier.”

He’d paused for a second, before his lips spread into a rare smile, and he said, “I love you too.” You’d always known the relationship wouldn’t be easy, considering his recent divorce and your unconventional jobs, but you were fine with it. Being with Aaron was good enough.

Present-day Aaron subtly placed a hand on the small of your back, a sign of encouragement he’d adopted over the years. You glanced up at him and nodded, silently letting him know you were okay. He dropped his hand, and held it out to the new director of the New York field office: Agent Milenka, an enthusiastic but imposing woman you’d met at the Academy when you were younger. You caught Morgan glaring at her for a second, reminding you that Morgan almost got that job. Still, you knew that Morgan loved you all too much to leave the BAU for a job directing the New York field office. The team was his rock, the weight that tethered him to reality when he was at his lowest. Aaron introduced Milenka to the rest of your team, until she cut him off when he got to you.

“I know her,” she declared loudly, “I was her firearms trainer at the Academy, but she had to show me up and be better with a gun than I am.” Spite dripped from her words, but the mischievous smile on her face told you she wasn’t really upset. Aaron nodded slightly, caught off-guard by her remark, then interjected to ask where his team could set up.

Agent Milenka led all of you to an empty conference room, with the case files already arranged neatly and a blank evidence board at the front of the room. She turned on her heel and stared firmly at the team. If you hadn’t known her for years, you’d assume she was going to attempt to assert control over the case, but instead she said, “My agents have come to see this office as a family, and probably won’t take too well to the fact that I’ve called you in. If any of them give you hell, tell me, and I’ll make the devil look like a cuddly teddy bear.” She pivoted on her heel to leave, then turned back around. “Agent L/N, my office.”

+++++

You were shocked, to be honest. This woman could bring grown men to their knees, and now she sat in front of you, spinning in a swivel chair, teasing you over your obvious infatuation with Aaron Hotchner.

“Really, Milenka, I gotta get back to the team,” you sighed, rubbing your temples.

“Fine”, she grunted, making a shooing motion with her hand. “But here’s what I meant to tell you. I’m guessing you and your team want to know why it took this many bodies for me to call you in. I mean, I’d be wondering that, too. The bodies were all dumped two days ago, even though they’d all been dead for various amounts of time, so I’m guessing the unsub wanted to make sure I had to call you guys. Keep that in mind. He knows how this works.” The humor and mischief was gone from the agent’s voice, and in that moment you knew how she’d risen through the ranks of the FBI so quickly. Something about her made you want to do everything you could to solve the case as quickly as possible. She wasn’t someone you could let down.

You grimaced, then nodded, unable to say anything, and left her office, getting coffee from the espresso machine for you and your teammates as you walked back to the conference room. As you passed around the cups, Aaron watched you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to relay whatever information Agent Milenka had told you, and so you did. The reactions among the team members were the same, set jaws and darkening eyes. You didn’t know where to start with the case, until you remembered the idea you’d gotten back in D.C. You leapt from the black desk chair you’d just sat down in and practically ran to the evidence board, grabbing a red dry-erase marker and organizing the victim’s pictures from the first to the last to be abducted. You circled the eyes on some of the pictures, the hair on others, the widow’s peaks on some, and other various defining features.

“He’s working up to someone specific,” Spencer muttered as you worked. You whipped around, pointing a finger at him and downing the last of your coffee.

“Yes! Okay, so, look at this: The first and last girl are wildly different, but when you look at the chronological order of the victims, each one gains another characteristic that the next one didn’t have, like he’s working up to getting one specific girl, and kept killing those that looked increasingly similar to his real target!” You blurted the words, and watched as your teammates looked on in a mix of awe and horror, at both the board and a piece of paper Spencer had messily written on. Aaron, who was usually so emotionless, looked especially horrified, and scared. You shot Spencer a questioning look, and he held up the paper he’d shown the rest of the team. He’d taken the first letter of each woman’s name, and when lined up, they spelled out a message.

Your name.

+++++

“You’re off the case.” Aaron said, crossing his arms over his chest as you paced around the empty office he’d practically dragged you to.

“What? If some psycho is after me, I want to be the one to catch him!” You spoke firmly, almost yelling but not quite.

“If some psycho is after you,” Aaron started, sounding much calmer than you had, “I want you to be safe. Sending you out to hunt him down isn’t keeping you safe.”

You scoffed, then yelled, “As long as he’s out there, I’m not safe! If you let me help, we’ll find him faster. I can’t- no, I won’t- just sit here doing nothing while this man kills women just because he’s got some sort of vendetta against me!”

Aaron’s resolve broke down. You could tell from the way his back slumped and he pulled you into his chest. You wrapped your arms around him, basking in the feeling of calm it brought. Your anger dissipated when he held you like that, and he knew it.

He murmured, “I can’t lose you,” into your ear, and your heart broke from the way his voice cracked from fear and sadness. Aaron pulled away far too soon, and gave you a look that you knew meant to stay put, and pulled out his phone to call Penelope Garcia.

A few moments later, Spencer walked in, hands in his pockets. He looked unsure of himself, and you couldn’t figure out why until he said, “Hotch wants me to drive you to the hotel.”

You stared at him silently for a second, then mumbled curses under your breath and stormed out of the room to find your bag. Spencer put an arm out to stop you, then said, “He said he’d bring it for you tonight.”

You glared at him for a moment, before averting your gaze to the suddenly interesting polished linoleum beneath you. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your fault. I shouldn’t be mad at you.”

Spencer gave you a small smile, and replied, “It’s okay. You’re stressed. We all are. Hotch just wants you to be safe.”

You nodded, and he led you from the building to the shiny, black SUV parked outside. Aaron jogged out of the building towards you, and grabbed the handle of the vehicle before you could. You met his eyes, and he murmured, “I know you’re mad at me, but I need you to stay in the hotel room, okay? Lock the door, and I’ll be there tonight with your go-bag.” You nodded, and he paused a second before saying, “I love you.”

Your pride got the best of you, and you simply muttered, “I know.”

+++++

You’d been sure that the SUV’s tires were full when you’d arrived in New York, but the flat passenger tire begged to differ. Spencer pulled into a nearby gas station to fill up the tire, something you were fairly sure he’d never done before. You couldn’t help but laugh when he called Morgan to ask what to do, who responded that it would be easier for him to come fill up the tire himself. You mouthed that you had to go to the bathroom, and Spencer nodded as Morgan’s laughter came through the phone. You stifled laughter as you walked into the gas station, grimacing at the smell of sweat and cheap hot dogs.

+++++

Aaron wasn’t sure if he’d ever been so mad. No, mad wasn’t the word. Was there a word that could encapsulate the unadulterated fury coursing through his veins? He paced the conference room like a caged lion, practically screaming at Spencer and Derek through the phone.

“What the hell happened?”

Spencer was crying, he could tell that much from the muffled sobs, and Aaron couldn’t help but think that he might never see you again. He slammed the phone onto the table with nearly enough force to break it, and looked up to see Emily, Rossi, and JJ already halfway out the conference room, before he’d told them what happened. The four of them slid into the two remaining SUVs. Aaron screeched out of the parking lot, gripping the wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Rossi kept shooting him worried glances he pretended not to notice.

“We’ll find her,” Rossi said, “But you need to stay calm for us to do it.”

Aaron nodded. He didn’t trust his voice to work right now. If he tried to speak, he knew he’d probably cry. He pulled into the gas station just before Emily and JJ, and a voice in his head reminded him that this might be the last place you’d ever see. Rossi hopped out of the car, giving Aaron a sympathetic look as he did so.

+++++

The team had been at the gas station for almost three hours, interviewing customers, collecting evidence, and talking to workers. Multiple people reported seeing a woman similar to who Aaron described enter the bathroom, but no one saw her leave.There was a window in the girl’s bathroom that had been broken from the inside, with blood on both the window and the glass. The forensics team ran the blood, and it was all from the same person.

Aaron didn’t need to hear the results to know whose blood it was. Spencer tried to help, informing him that she hadn’t bled out because women had approximately 4.5 pints of blood and that was at most half a pint, but Aaron cut him off. He couldn’t hear it, couldn’t listen to everyone talking about his girlfriend, the love of his life, as though she was already dead. He knew the odds, knew that she was almost certainly going to be dead within the first 72 hours, considering how the unsub had killed the other women.

He was going to find you alive. He knew it.

Because he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he didn’t.

+++++

Everything was fuzzy and painful and oh my god what is that stuff coming out of your side and out of your hand and holy crap you can’t move you’re tied up what are you tied to what’s going on and-

“You’re even prettier than I remember.” The voice sounded familiar, but the only thing your brain could fully focus on at the moment was the excruciating pain. You felt a hand on your side, and then a searing pain that was somehow worse than the pain you’d already been feeling.

“You got a piece of glass in your side. I’m getting it out.”

You felt pressure on the spot, and forced your head to move so you could see what was going on.

He was wrapping your waist in some sort of bandage to staunch the bleeding. You forced yourself to look around the musty room you were in. You were seated in a chair, with your arms tied to the back of the chair by a coarse brown rope and a metal chain and heavy shackle attached to your left ankle. Your eyes followed the chain, to where it connected to a silver hook jutting from the wooden floor, which was coated in a layer of dirt.

Dirt.

You must be in a barn, or shed, or something. You definitely weren’t in New York City anymore.

You vaguely remembered what had happened in the gas station bathroom. There’d been a man waiting in the first stall, who jumped on you, shoving your head against the mirror hard enough to crack your skull. You figured that you’d blacked out, and he’d jumped the window with you in tow.

Then another memory washes over you like a tsunami, flooding you with regret.

Aaron said he loved you, and you didn’t say it back. Now, you might never get to tell him that you love him again.

+++++

Aaron removed himself from the case, leaving Rossi in charge. He knew he’d only slow everyone else down with the torrent of emotions dancing inside his skull. So now, he’s resorted to sitting in your hotel room alone, wishing he hadn’t told you to go to the hotel. He’d been crying for the first time in years.

Aaron had no clue what to do, and it gives him newfound respect for the families of abducted victims that he speaks to. He pulled the sparkling diamond ring he planned on giving you tonight out of his bag, staring at it and imagining it on your ring finger. It doesn’t make him happier, instead it just turns the steady stream of tears into a storm.

+++++

Morgan, Rossi, JJ, and Emily, seated at the silver table in the conference room, were going over every last piece of evidence they have, while Spencer made a map of the abduction sites as Agent Milenka told him the addresses. They already established that the victims were high-risk due to their above-average athleticism, and each victim was taken from a high-risk location. Spencer looked for any sense of a pattern in abduction sites, but couldn’t find one. Eventually, he sat down next to Morgan and Emily, defeated.

“So all we know is that he’s obsessed with Y/N, and that he wasn’t remorseful about the murders of the other women.” Derek sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Well, if he was able to subdue her, he most likely had the element of surprise. So, he probably isn’t physically strong, and needed that advantage to knock her out.” Rossi added, and Derek nodded.

Spencer looked up from the crime scene photos. “There’s no ligature marks.”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, we went over that. So?”

“Why knock the women out and transport them if you’re just going to kill them immediately instead of holding them somewhere? Why not just kill them wherever they already are?”

Emily’s mouth fell open. “Practice. So that when he had Y/N, he knew exactly what was going to happen. But he didn’t want to ruin the rest of the fantasy by taking someone else where he’s planned to keep Y/N. He wants that to be special.”

“So we know he’s going to be holding her somewhere secluded, then,” Milenka chimed in.

After a few moments of silence, the phone rang in the center of the table, and the team members all stared at it for a few moments before Derek turned to the computer next to him, where Garcia was currently on a video call with the team.

“Can you trace this call, babygirl?”

Garcia nodded. “I don’t have a trap and trace set up yet, but I can get one, honey. Just gimme one second.”

Derek’s hand hovered over the button on the receiver to answer the call, and when Garcia affirmed that she was ready, Derek pressed the button. Instantly, a somewhat timid male voice filled the room.

“Where’s Agent Hotchner? I want to speak to him, not any of you.”

The team shared a perplexed look, and Emily asked, “How do you know who is here and who isn’t?”

“The window’s open.”

JJ ran to the window, then turned. “He’s there,” she said, pointing to a man directly underneath where the conference window was with a phone to his ear.

The rest of the team sprinted down the stairs and out of the field office, with JJ not far behind. By the time they got to where the man had been, he was long gone. No one near the area said they’d seen him, either.

Derek turned and punched the wall out of rage, while Emily cursed loudly. The rapid darkening of the sky didn’t help with trying to catch an unsub, either.

Dejectedly, the team returned to the conference room, where Garcia excitedly said, “Your man forgot to hang up for a few minutes! I don’t know entirely where he went, but I know the direction he was headed!”

“Where, Garcia?” Spencer asked, desperate for a lead.

“Straight west.”

Spencer looked to Emily, who said, “Let’s go.”

+++++

The team knew the unsub needed somewhere secluded to keep you, but couldn’t figure out where. He’d been on foot when they’d seen him, so it had to be somewhat close. Or maybe he’d had a car in a parking lot somewhere? There were too many variables. They needed Hotch.

+++++

“Drink.”

The man held a cup to your lips, but you kept them closed tight. After trying to force you for a while, he gave up. Sighing, the man ran a hand through your hair, forcing your head upright. For a serial killer, he was surprisingly gentle.

“You need your strength,” the man murmured, but you looked away when he picked up the cup again. He set it down, shaking his head, then pulled a knife out of the back pocket of his blue jeans. You knew better than to scream. It was likely that he craved your pain, so allowing him that satisfaction would coax him to continue. He walked behind you, to where you wouldn’t see him. You closed your eyes, praying for a quick death, praying Aaron would find you, praying you could see your team one last time.

But you didn’t need to.

The man cut through the rope binding your wrists, then left the room. He was rarely in the room with you, and you wondered what he was doing outside of it. For the first time, however, he came back within a few minutes of leaving. You could theoretically move if you wanted to now that the rope was gone considering how long the chain attached to your leg was, but you were weak and hurting. The last thing you saw before your vision went black yet again was the man standing above you with a syringe.

+++++

Aaron was with the rest of the team, visiting each abduction site for something, anything to help the profile, when the unsub called him.

“This is Hotchner.”

“I have her, Agent Hotchner, and I treat her better than you ever could. You think what she needs is a big strong man to control her,” he mocked, “But you don’t truly love her. No one could, except me.” Although the man’s words were confident, he sputtered out the words like an old truck engine. It sounded like he was reading a script, as though he’d had to plan out what he was going to say beforehand. As soon as the unsub finished speaking, the tell-tale click of the phone hanging up sounded.

Emily, who’d been walking next to him, stopped, pulling out her phone to contact Penelope.

“Can you get the rest of the team on the line? I think Morgan and Reid are at the Central Park crime scene, and JJ and Rossi are probably still by Times Square.”

Emily could practically hear Penelope’s smile as she responded, “Can do, gorgeous.”

A few keyboard clicks later, Penelope stated, “You’ve got me, Morgan, Rossi, Reid,and JJ.”

Emily took a shaky breath before saying, “We think Y/N knew the unsub.”

“What do you mean, knew?” Reid’s voice sounded.

“He claimed that he loves her more than Aaron ever could. He thinks he knows her better than us, so he probably knew her when she used to live in New York.”

“She went to college here, didn’t she?” JJ responded.

Penelope chimed in, exclaiming, “She went to John Jay College of Criminal Justice. Graduated top of her class.”

Morgan cleared his throat, then added: “Maybe the unsub didn’t know her, but thought he did. He could’ve been stalking her when she lived here, then kept tabs on her when she transferred to the BAU years ago.”

“He probably found out about Y/N’s relationship with Aaron recently, and that’s his stressor.” Rossi added.

Emily stared into the distance. There was something off about this. The theory made sense, but at the same time, it felt, well, wrong.

Agent Milenka, who’d been surveying the crime scene Emily and Aaron were at, sauntered over.

“I know who did this.”

Aaron met her firm gaze, confused and intrigued.

“Who?”

“There was this guy she met at John Jay, didn’t talk much, but he ended up applying to the FBI just because she did. He made it in a few months after her and got a job as a forensic analyst at our field office here. They worked together pretty often, and he was never too strange, but you got the feeling there was something off. He started acting weird after Y/N’s transfer to the BAU. I ordered another psych eval for him a few months ago, and he failed. I fired him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

Aaron and Emily shared a look, both hopeful and sad.

“What’s his name?”

“Ian Foster.”

Aaron nodded, murmuring a quick thank you, then turned back to Emily.

“Call Garcia. We need all the information we can find on Ian Foster.”

+++++

Your head hurt. You were somewhere different now; the dirty brown floor had been replaced with plush white carpet, and the chair you’d gotten used to was gone. Your left leg was still shackled, but this time it was attached to a shiny metal spike in the center of the room. You surveyed your surroundings, noting the vast difference between your current location and your past one. The chain attached to your ankle was long, probably meant to give you full access to the room you were in but keep you from leaving. The walls were white and spotless, along with the queen-sized bed behind you and the dresser and vanity along the far wall. You knew you must look out of place compared to the neatness of your surroundings, with your frizzy, dirty hair and torn, wrinkled, and stained clothes. You realized that you’d never checked your holster for your gun, and in doing so, found it empty.

Great.

Sun shone through the window on your right, and birds chirped happily, as if mocking you. They were telling you that they’re free, while you’re locked in this stupid white room.

Your captor walked in soon after you woke up, and you knew he must be watching you through a camera hidden somewhere.

“Drink.”

Your eyes searched his face, trying to understand who he was, now that you had enough light to see.

“Foster?” You managed to croak out through your parched throat.

Ian nodded, then grabbed your face with one calloused hand, forcing you to open your mouth so he could pour water in, which you promptly spat into his eyes. Instead of causing him to stumble, all it did was make him laugh.

“I see you’re still as fiery as ever.”

You clamped your mouth shut, pursing your lips and staring him in the eyes until he left. After he was gone, you tried to move your arms as much as possible. Your limbs felt heavy, like you were attached to weights, but moving was somewhat possible, a little bit at a time.

For now, that would be enough. You just had to pray that Aaron could find you.

+++++

Ian Foster’s paper trail was a series of dead ends, but Penelope Garcia, being the lovely omnipotent being she is, was able to find two properties owned by his dead uncle in upstate New York that he was likely using to hold you.

Aaron couldn’t describe the relief that wrapped itself around him, like a soft blanket, when Garcia chirped that she’d found where he was. He’d refused to allow himself to think that you might be dead, and the knowledge that now he had your location was sweeter than any candy could ever be.

He wiped a tear from his eye that threatened to fall, and cleared his throat, nodding at Emily and Agent Milenka, wordlessly signaling her to join him as he ran towards the SUV they’d been using. Emily followed, calling JJ and Rossi to give them the address as she ran. The first property, an old farmhouse, was about 40  minutes away from their current location, while the second one, a pretty two-story house, was about three hours away. Hotch, Emily, and Milenka, being farthest from both locations, were driving to the house, while the rest of the team would check out the farmhouse first then meet them there.

+++++

There was this feeling, blossoming in your chest, comforting you, whispering that Aaron was on his way. You’d learned over the years that your instincts rarely lied to you, and you hoped to whatever God there was or wasn't, that this wasn’t one of the times they misled you.

So you knew what you had to do.

You acted nice every time Ian came to visit, roughly every half hour.

Then, after five visits, you drank the water he offered willingly. Gently, Ian helped you up off the ground, a gesture that would’ve been comforting had he not been a serial killer. He moved his hands until they were lightly situated on your waist, and gazed into your eyes with the crazed fanaticism of a deranged man. He leaned in for a kiss, and the second he closed his eyes, you drove your right knee directly into his crotch.

Serves him right for being dumb enough not to fully restrain you. While he doubled over in pain, stepping back, you set up for a roundhouse kick that you placed to the back of his knee, knocking him onto the ground in an ungraceful heap. While he was on the ground, you punched him in the throat with enough force to knock the wind out of him, leaving him gasping for air on the ground like a fish out of water. Sending another kick to his temple for good measure, rendering him unconscious, you searched his pockets for anything that could remove the shackle from your leg. Eventually, you settled for a wire cutter that you used to cut off the attaching chain, but your clumsiness left an angry gash in your leg in the process. Limping from exhaustion, you ran from the room as fast as you could with the pain in your side from the glass that had been lodged there and the blood from the cut in your skull dripping down your face and neck. Your head felt fuzzy and faint, and you knew you were likely to pass out from blood loss any second. You repeated Aaron’s name in your head like a mantra, telling yourself that you needed to get back to him first, then you could pass out from pain. Every part of your body ached, screaming at you to give up as you stumbled down the creaky carpeted stairs, leaving a trail of blood in your wake.

As you neared the foyer, you heard the engine of a car, along with footsteps. The door flew open, with Aaron directly behind it, followed by Morgan, Emily, Spencer, Rossu, and a few agents from the New York office. Aaron’s eyes scanned the room before settling on you, bloodied and bruised, and he ran to you, gathering you in his arms while you whimpered like a child. He whispered things in your ear that you couldn’t make out as you let the blackness at the edge of your vision take over.

+++++

Lights. Murmuring voices. Were you still in that house?

You opened your eyes to see two people, one man and one woman, leaving the room you were in. There was a pressure on your hand that scared you, and slowly, you turned your head to see the source of the sensation, and you were greeted with what was quite possibly the best view you’d ever laid eyes on: Aaron Hotchner asleep at your side, desperately clutching your hand.

“Aaron?” You murmured. He was a light sleeper, so you knew the sound would most likely wake him up. When it didn’t, you squeezed his hand while murmuring his hand again. His head jerked up, and his tired eyes met yours.

“Y/N.” His voice was filled with so much anxiety, grief, and regret that your heart shattered, as he reached up to ever-so-gently caress your face, then kissed you softly.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” His words took the broken pieces of your heart and smashed them again with a hammer, until you were sobbing against Aaron’s chest. He held you, and let you cry, becoming painfully aware of his inability to help in times like this. His specialty was catching criminals, not helping people through the trauma, and he entertained the thought of asking JJ to talk to you for a fleeting moment, before deciding that he couldn’t let you out of his sight for the time being.

After a few minutes, you sniffed and lifted your head to wipe away your tears, but Aaron did it before you could. You stared down at your side for a moment, watching the blood that seeped through the bandage every time you took a breath, while you gathered enough courage to speak without your voice wavering.

“I’m sorry. You told me you loved me, and I didn’t say it back, and that could’ve been the last-”

Aaron cut you off with a kiss, murmuring against your lips, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You sat in silence with him for a while, leaning your head against his shoulder as he stroked your hair. Eventually, Aaron broke the silence.

“I saw what you did to Ian.”

You choked out a laugh despite the pain that ripped through you while doing so. “Yeah, I left him in pretty bad shape, didn’t I?”

Aaron nodded, smiling. “I’m proud of you. Most people wouldn't be able to escape a serial killer.”

“Well, I’m not most people, Hotchner.”

“That’s for sure.”

+++++

The rest of the team left for D.C. the next morning, but Aaron stayed to drive you home once you were discharged from the hospital. First, however, he dropped you off at the FBI field office to talk with Agent Milenka while he called Jessica to ask if she’d mind watching Jack for a few more days, explaining what happened to you. She practically viewed you as a sister, and after recovering from the initial horror, was happy to agree.

“Hey, Y/N! You’re alive!” Agent MIlenka called brightly as you limped into her office, bumping your crutched on the doorframe.

You chuckled. “Sadly, I am. Aaron told me it was you who figured out Foster had taken me. How’d you know?”

Milenka shrugged. “I may not be a profiler, but I sure as hell can tell when someone’s not right. The guy went almost crazy when you left New York. It just made sense.”

“But if that was his stressor, he would’ve started murdering earlier.”

“We thought at first that finding out about you and Agent Hotchner might’ve been the stressor, but it was impossible to tell when he’d found out, so we switched gears. I fired Ian a few months ago because he’d just been getting worse and worse, and eventually was a liability on cases. The last straw was him failing his psych evaluation. Maybe he felt that losing his FBI job meant he lost his last chance to be with you if he’d been hoping to transfer to your unit someday.”

You nodded slowly. “That’s around the time the kidnappings started, isn’t it?”

Milenka nodded. The two of you stood in her office in comfortable silence for a bit, until she stood up from her desk, crossing the distance between you and engulfing you in a nervous hug. She pulled away fairly quickly, most likely out of fear of hurting you, and awkwardly patted you twice on the shoulder. “Take care, Agent.”

“You too, Milenka.”

You turned to go, but stopped when you heard Milenka call, “One more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Hotchner’s a good guy. Don’t let that one get away.”

You merely offered her a smile, then strode out of her office as elegantly as one can with a limp.

+++++

The ride home was nice, full of easy discussion, laughter, and a few guilty looks that Aaron snuck at your stitched-up side, wishing he’d listened to you.

You made a joke he didn’t hear, and leaned over in your seat so you could wave a hand in front of his face, calling his name in a sing-song voice.

“Aaron, you good?”

Aaron shook his head slightly, rubbed his eyes, then turned towards you. “Yes?”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”

You hummed in affirmation, then turned towards the window. The rest of the drive was spent in comfortable silence, until you arrived at Aaron’s house. You spent practically all of your time there. Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d stepped foot into your apartment. Aaron helped you into the house and to your shared bed, where you passed out immediately. You vaguely heard a soft whisper of “sleep well” before you were out cold.

Aaron watched you for what felt like hours, feeling pent-up stress and anger roll off of him in waves as he silently stroked your hair, grateful beyond words that you’d lived. You murmured something in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like “I love you,” before rolling over to curl against his chest, nuzzling your head against the crook of his neck. And for the first time in days, he allowed himself a smile. Aaron basked in the rare feeling of relaxation, thinking about how nice it would be to bottle up this feeling and keep it forever, until sleep finally pulled him into its soft clutches. And for once, with you safely nestled into him, he slept easily. He still hadn’t proposed, but that was okay. Now that you were safe, you two had all the time in the world.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #crimnal minds #criminal minds fluff #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner smut #Penelope Garcia #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 9-10

Anyone mentally exhausted from watching DAYS? Well, you’ve come to the right place where I do the thinking for you, so you don’t have to! As always, if you have any questions, feel free to click on the ask question button! Happy Readings !

The Contract Revisited

While reviewing the contract, I realized there was something major that I had completely missed! Anyways let’s go over the contract again to clear up some confusion.

The Contract is as follows:

1) Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before she dies (It could be rephrased as Dong Kyung must ask for Myul Mang to destroy the world before her tentative expiration date)

2) During Dong Kyung’s last 100 days, Myul Mang will prevent her from feeling any pain

3) Myul Mang has to grant her one real wish

4) If Dong Kyung breaks the contract (does not wish for the world to be destroyed) then the person she loves the most will die

If Dong Kyung does not violate the contract as in she wishes for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies anyways because you know.... the world is non existent. If Dong Kyung does violate the contract, meaning she does not wish for the world to be destroyed, the person she loves dies too because her doom is transferred to them. Some have also wondered whether she can has to ask for the world to be destroyed in order to get her one real wish to be granted. In my opinion, I don't think so. I think she can still get her one real wish to be granted regardless of whether she wishes for doom upon the world or not. Other things to note is that nothing will happen to Myul Mang if he does not stick to the terms of the contract (i.e keeps Dong Kyung pain free and granting her one real wish) because as Dong Kyung said "If I violate" not "If either you or I violate".

Now something to pay close attention to is #4. In Ep 2, Myul Mang had said he would take Dong Kyung’s doom (brain cancer) and transfer it to someone she loves. This is the part I missed! I’d thought that all Myul Mang was doing was transferring the death that was meant for her, not that he was actually removing her source of death which was her brain cancer. Therefore, if Dong Kyung breaks the contract, she will live because her brain cancer is removed and is subsequently transferred into the person she loves, causing them to die instead. I feel incredibly stupid for missing this important piece of info. In light of this new info, I will therefore retract my previous theory that Dong Kyung’s one wish will be to cure her brain cancer.

For those who were confused by that scene of Dong Kyung going to the beach and staying away from everyone, here are my thoughts on that. Dong Kyung was trying to find a loophole. The loophole was that she was planning on violating the contract while protecting the people she loves. This means that Dong Kyung was planning on ending herself at the beach (you can't wish for doom upon the world if you're already dead) and accepting her doom (her doom can't be transferred to anyone else because she accepts it in herself).

Who’s Going to Get Dong Kyung’s Brain Cancer and Die?

I recently had a eureka moment a few days ago before Eps 9-10 aired that led me to formulating a new theory -- it's actually Dora who will inherit Dong Kyung’s brain cancer and die. Let’s think through some things first, “the person you love the most will die”. The most obvious choice is Myul Mang. However, if you think about that statement in a more abstract way, you can see that if Dong Kyung loves her life, then the person who will die is Dora. Remember that Dora is basically the personification of life.

To further add evidence that supports this theory, I present to you Exhibit A, Dora’s massive nosebleed. We know Dong Kyung has a rare type of brain cancer and it’s located in her frontal lobe. As days pass, the brain tumor is growing or metastasizing. In theory, the tumor could grow into nearby areas such as her nasal cavity and cause Dong Kyung to have nose bleeds (FYI: In real life, I’m a scientist with experience in the field of oncology and most of the time brain tumors don’t grow outside of the brain. It can happen, but it is very rare!). Now, think about the events that occurred before Dora's nose bleed. For example, Dong Kyung was out and about enjoying her time with Myul Mang and her family and friends. Essentially, Dong Kyung was beginning to love her life. This causes Dora to suffer because she is taking in Dong Kyung's illness into herself. Subsequently, this leads to Dora experiencing some of the symptoms of Dong Kyung's brain cancer (e.g nose bleed). Thus, as Dong Kyung is beginning to live, Dora is beginning to die.

Exhibit B: Adventures of Pinocchio. At the end of the story, the Fairy (Dora) heals an ailing Geppetto (Dong Kyung) as a reward for Pinocchio (Myul Mang) becoming a good boy. Following this, we don’t hear much about what happens to the Fairy except that she’s in laying in a hospital on the verge of death. It is implied that in order to heal Geppetto, the Fairy had to take his illness into herself. Afterall, nothing is without consequences, someone must pay so that others can be happy. Much like the story of Pinocchio, Dora is doing the same thing as the Fairy. Dora is taking in Dong Kyung’s illness so that Dong Kyung can freely love her son, Myul Mang, without consequences (e.g Myul Mang dying).

Exhibit C: Dong Kyung walking around like she didn’t have brain cancer while in seclusion. You would think that since she didn’t see Myul Mang to recharge, she would be experiencing some severe symptoms, but nope she was walking around as if she was cured! I wonder where her cancer went.......DORA!

Exhibit D: Dora telling Dong Kyung to be madly in love and live. Basically Dora saying, "Love my son and live, don't worry about your brain cancer or him dying because I'm taking care of it."

Why Dora Didn't Want Myul Mang To See Her

For those wondering why Dora didn’t want Myul Mang to see her, here are my two cents. One explanation is that Dora probably didn’t want him to figure out that she was inheriting Dong Kyung’s brain cancer. It would’ve made him feel guilty to see that his mother was willing to take on even more pain just so he could be happy. Another explanation is that Myul Mang still has a lot of growing up to do (to become human). Dora didn’t want him to get the idea that he’s out of the clear just yet. Meaning if Myul Mang had found out that Dora was doing this for him then he would’ve thought life was a breeze now and have no further motivations to want to grow, thus ruining Dora’s plan for him (to grow up to become a good human). There’s no better motivation to make someone grow than the thought of their love ones dying.

Final Theory on Dong Kyung’s Wish

In my previous post, I had discussed that without knowing the limits of what one could or could not wish for, it was difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung’s wish would be. However, in this week’s episode, I was finally given the limits: the wish must be a wish that is doom in nature. I thought to myself, what could be a good thing to end? Oh, that’s right, Myul Mang’s immorality. Dong Kyung must say “I wish for your immortal life to end” or something along those lines. The combination of Dong Kyung’s wish + Myul Mang’s willingness to sacrifice himself for her + Dora’s plant = the rebirth of Myul Mang into a real boy....oops I mean real hu-man.

The Ending of DAYS

So, what kind of ending will DAYS have? Prepare yourselves. I think it’s going to be a bittersweet ending because it goes with the one of the main themes DAYS which is dualism. I think Myul Mang will be reborn as a human, but still have his doom responsibilities (so more like a fake human). He will probably end up becoming like Dora in the sense that he gets to experience the cycle of life and death over an infinite amount of time. Dong Kyung won’t be reborn in his next life cycle (remember Myul Mang tells that crazy lady there’s no afterlife; humans only have this one life). I guess the notion that the love he and Dong Kyung share will always be with him and forever serve as a shining beacon even in his loneliest days is sweet, but still I want a happy ending!!!

Now excuse my language, but to hell with dualism and what is logical! I want a happy ending where Myul Mang becomes human, lives with Dong Kyung, and when he dies that’s it. No coming back to doing his doom job in a different life. Dora can create another herald of doom. Dora did it once before and she could do it again lol. Or if Myul Mang must come back in a different life, at least allow Dong Kyung to be reborn at the same time. I mean you can grow the same plant again…. EVER HEARD OF PROPROGATION DORA?!! Metaphorically speaking, if Dong Kyung is a sunflower, then wait until she dies, harvest her seeds and grow her again…. it’s that simple Dora!!!

Some Thoughts on the Writer of DAYS

The writer (Im Meari) of DAYS is at best, pretentious and at worst, derivative. She’s more or less just rehashing the works of other great philosophers (Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, Deleuze, etc). She presents DAYS as a collection of major philosophical concepts with the intention to differentiate herself from that of other kdramas writers. She goes onto placing great stress on the idea that in order to innovate or bring about a new beginning, one must deviate from the norm, yet she herself does not diverge from the ideas of other philosophers. She does not present any philosophy of her own. In this aspect, she is a hypocrite to the very ideas she tries to preach. Oh well, to each their own. Who knows, maybe my opinion of Im Meari will change by the end of the series. Anyways, I’m still here for the romance between the actors and actresses and solving mysteries!

Ep 11 Preview Predictions

Here are my predictions for Ep 11 based off of the preview, they may or may not be correct !

Dong Kyung takes back the bracelet from Myul Mang after their conversation on the beach. Honestly, I’m growing tired of this whole giving/taking the bracelet type situation lol.

Dong Kyung enjoys a nice vacation with Myul Mang on Jeju island.

Dong Kyung returns from the vacation because she finds out that her aunt is sick (probably from worrying about Dong Kyung). Dong Kyung beats herself up about it.

Dong Kyung is sick again (probably from hating life...remember that I had theorized that the more Dong Kyung loves her life, the sicker Dora will be become) and Myul Mang in his desperation pleads with Dora to help him, but Dora’s version of helping him is to …. surprise surprise… teach him another lesson. The lesson is that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side and that Myul Mang and Dong Kyung complete each other for the better. Dora shows Myul Mang what their lives would've been like if they had never existed in each other’s lives.

Dong Kyung having never experience any kind of suffering would live a healthy life but become the most unappreciative and spoiled person ever. She may go on to finding that life was pretty meaningless and would want to put an end to it all. And Myul Mang having never met Dong Kyung wouldn't have any motivation or desire to grow as a person and so he would remain stagnant. And who knows… maybe at some point, that Myul would’ve became so angry with humans that he would personally go around killing every last one of them.

#doom at your service #doomatyourservice #myulmang #Myul mang #dong kyung #dongkyung #kimsaram #Kim saram #DAYS #parkboyoung #park bo young #seo in guk #seoinguk #kdrama #kdramas #theories #analysis #long post

[shades-of-stony]

ABO Stony AUs! (Part 2)

As promised, here is part 2! [link to Part 1] I’m not sure if I’m gonna make part 3 but there are still a bit ABO fics left. 

A King For Christmas by iam93percentstardust

Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.

Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.

Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.

What, Like It’s Hard? by JehBeeEh

Summary: Omega Tony Stark has it all, until his alpha boyfriend breaks his heart. In an effort to win him back, he follows the alpha of his dreams to Harvard Law School, where he discovers there might be more to being the first omega at the prestigious school. He also meets another alpha that might just make him forget the one he drove across the country for.

Two-Point Perspective by FestiveFerret for sabrecmc

Dear omega,

Congratulations! You've been selected. Alpha #95847872 has been assigned as your pre-bondee. A group bonding ceremony will take place on the 14th, unless other arrangements have been made by your alpha or their family. A valid bonding license must be submitted to Omega Services within 45 days of this letter or all services will be cancelled and any transferable benefits will not be applied to your alpha's package.

If there is some reason why you cannot be bonded on this date, please apply for an extension by calling 1-800-555-6827 within 7 days of receiving this letter.

Sincerely, National Omega Services

I Love You (From the Bottom to the Top) by RomancebyFaye for Reioka

Summary: Steve and Tony have a great relationship. They may have only been dating for a few months, but the truth is, they had been in love for years before that. Their relationship is only getting better from adding this new intimacy and Steve is very satisfied with how open Tony is in the bedroom. He’s giving and generous, sometimes to a fault, just as he is with everything.

And then Steve comes home early and catches sight of something he wasn’t meant to see. The shock he gets from the sight of watching his alpha ride a toy might not have been meant for him, but it doesn't stop him from wanting.

Now, if he can just figure out how to tell Tony how much he wants what he witnessed without putting his foot in his mouth…

Or Tony offers Steve something in the bedroom and Steve misunderstands the offer.

Until he doesn’t.

A Prime, Divided by avengersasssemble

Summary: Facing his and his infant son's possible death sentence, young prince Tony runs away to the only place where his father would dare not follow: the Northern Territories, known to house the most savage and brutal Alphas--including their bloodthirsty leader, the Prime Alpha. Forced to navigate fatherhood and diplomacy while being unable to speak the Northern language, Tony has to make decisions to save his son, even at his own expense.

Oversight by ShyOwl

Summary: It really wasn’t Steve’s fault that no one knew he was an omega.

I Love You 3000 by NazakiSama166

Summary: After the death of his husband, the only thing Steven Rogers could think of was going on and dying in one of his missions, and Steven was happy to get his wish.... that was until he woke up in a strange universe when people can shift into wolves and men can get pregnant... Oh, and did he mention that Tony was there too and was in love with his younger jackass self? And let's not forget about Peggy...

Life just loves to mess with him...

Dear Enemy by AvengersNewB

Summary: Alpha Steve and omega Tony are SHIELD agents who don't always see eye to eye, but some benefits on the side help them work things out in the most non-traditional way. Steve's jealousy after an unfortunate encounter with Ty Stone, however, makes things complicated.

Love Match by FestiveFerret

Summary: Tony had but one goal for the season: secure a marriage proposal from an alpha with the position and means enough to remove him from his father's house. Love was wholly irrelevant to the matter. 

Stuck in a... by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve gets into a serum-enhanced rut. Tony figures that there’d be a long list of people who’d volunteer to help Steve out, but there’s only one person Steve wants.

A Late-Night Snacks, and Other Good Ideas by  Annie D (scaramouche)

Summary: Steve's heightened senses means that he always knows when Tony's in heat. One night, he finally does something about it.

citrus and lavender by JehBeeEh  

Summary: Steve laid Tony on his bed as delicately as he could manage. Which was ridiculous because he knew, logically, that Tony was absolutely fine. JARVIS himself had told him. And that’s 100% why he had fought Natasha so hard on Tony not needing to go to medical when they came back, even though he probably could use the check up. Yup. That was definitely the only reason he had insisted on bringing Tony back to the penthouse. No other reason at all. If you keep this up, you just might start believing it, he thought to himself ruefully. Tony wasn’t his. He had made it very clear that he didn’t need some alpha in his life to mess with everything he’d worked so hard to accomplish. Especially not Steve Rogers.

Found Love in a Hopeless Place by crispybacon

Summary: Steve really, really did not want to tag along with his brother to the bar, no matter how many times the jerk nagged him that he needed to get laid. Just because Bucky’s known his Omega since kindergarten, and the pair have loud obnoxious sex in their shared small two bedroom apartment, didn’t mean Steve needed to stick his knot in any Omega that looks his way.

That’s not the kind of Alpha Steve was.

Or, Steve goes to a bar and meets an Omega with a complicated past that changes his life forever.

This is Not a Drill by sabrecmc

Summary: “Can I—can I see him? I mean meet him. Uh…welcome him to the team?” Tony clarified, probably not very well, he knew.

“Well…there’s a bit of an issue with that,” Fury said, and Tony figured this was where Fury got to whatever it was that had really forced his hand and made him call Tony in, knowing how much the man detested having to do so. “You see, well. He was suspended in the ice for nearly seventy years,” Fury began. Tony nodded along, because he could do math.

“I’m sure he has a lot of adjusting to do—“ Tony started.

“Seventy years,” Fury repeated, cutting Tony off and leaning back in his chair and making it rock slightly. “Of no suppressants.”

“Oh,” Tony managed to choke out past the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. “Oh.”

Everybody's got a hungry heart. by Perlmutt for ShadowsintheClouds

Summary: Tony Stark has never experienced a true heat due to the suppressants he's taking on a daily basis. Society accepts him as a beta, together with his friends and teammates and the alpha he's secretly in love with. But some things are just too big to be kept hidden forever. An unfortunate turn of events forces Tony to reveal his biggest secret to the world...

Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame for starksnack

Summary: In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.

Apple Pie and Sunshine by betheflame, starksnack

Summary: Even though they've loved each other for years, Steve and Tony have each convinced themselves that their one-night-stand was a fluke. Thing is, it also resulted in Tony getting pregnant and as the birth approaches, perhaps it's time to use their words.

blue since the day we parted by funkyspacegirlfriend

Summary: When he's twenty, the man Tony thinks will be his alpha and mate walks away, leaving Tony with a gift he'll never regret.

The same alpha reappears fifteen years later in the form of SI's new military liaison.

In my Favorite Dreams (I feel your heat) by Corsets_and_Cardigans for wingheads

Summary: Steve is on his morning run in DC when a ghost from his past comes back into his life. And he's not alone. *** “Steve?” Sam’s voice cut through the veil of the past, the crushing weight of memory that stole his breath. “What’s wrong, buddy?”

His staring must have finally alerted another parent, a woman eyeing him warily while tugging on Tony’s sleeve until he turned around. His eyes were just as expressive and wide as they were ten years ago, piercing the cold morning air straight to Steve’s own.

“Tony.”

“Wait. Tony Tony? The Tony? The Tony that Bucky busts your chops over Tony?”

His voice cracked, wrent into pieces at seeing his omega who wasn’t his anymore, body flaring in pain. Years worth of aching denial like a hot fireplace poker to his soul. “Yeah.”

“Okay then, who’s the kid?”

The Couch by Perlmutt

Summary: Steve overstepped a mark, when he accidentally called Tony, his mate, tiny. Because his omega was very self-conscious when it came to his height. So he needed to show him that he thought Tony's perfect just the way he was, if he didn't want to sleep on the couch for the next week. Luckily Steve was the man with a plan...

be the summer in my heart by billyscissors

Summary: After Obadiah betrays the Southern Isles, he offers Omega Prince Anthony Stark as tribute to appease the Warlord of the North

#stony #stony fics #stony fanfic #steve and tony #stevetony #stevetony fanfic #stevetony fic rec #stevetony fic #stony fic #SUPERHUSBANDS #fic rec

[houseboatisland]

I'm rather curious for your own takes on Thom Thom~✨💙

Edit credit to @/ComradeOpThomas from Twitter, this is my ideal Thomas!

(Season 5 Thomas is the best Thomas, I don’t make the rules)

I started this hoping for it not to become a whole biography, but it just kept pouring out of me, so here's a very, very long post indeed lol

Thomas is NOT an L.B.S.C.R. E2 Class. He’s actually a unique design born to the North Western Railway in its earliest days… and in remarkably sad circumstances.

When the Railway Executive Committee first took over in August 1914, they were repulsed at the state of the Sudrian railways. Here were several argumentative companies operating in isolation from one another, with geriatric engines and stock, and one of them hadn't even run a train or maintained its permanent way since the start of the century. A key agenda item of the R.E.C.'s was a continuous, efficient railway system to quickly move men and materiel to the Island's eastern coast were Ireland to side with Kaiser Bill against John Bull. The existing standard gauge railways would have to be more or less torn up and rebuilt from scratch, and several new miles of track laid in to make for a single fluid network.

This required, among other things, many new engines. Several came over the Channel as and when could be spared by the Mainland, but as it became increasingly clear that the war would not be over "by Christmas," this wasn't an ideal long-term solution. The R.E.C. was especially upset that it had to put so many of its tender engines onto construction trains when their strength could be better used on other work. Two tank engines off the former Wellsworth and Suddery Railway, No. 1 "Short" and No. 2 "Stumpy" were by now nearing fifty years old, and exhausted mechanically.

The R.E.C., out to keep costs down and use resources to the fullest, ordered the N.W.R. to scrap these two engines and use the best parts of each to create one new engine. Measurements were taken, plans were hastily drawn up, and Short and Stumpy were quietly cut up in January 1915. Several fittings were made new for what odds and ends neither engine could contribute a usable part. The resulting new engine was "Thomas," who was put to work fresh off the shop floor.

Thomas at this point became the N.W.R.’s No. 1 quite by accident. He was the first engine to be built at Crovan’s Gate, and the REC misinterpreted this on his builder’s plates as an intention by the N.W.R. TO make him No. 1. So when Thomas gained his number, the R.E.C. and the N.W.R. both assumed this was deliberate by one another. And it was just too much of a hassle and too unimportant to change, so No. 1 he stayed.

As for his name, Thomas is named after Thomas Reginald Payne, the North Western Railway's first Chief Mechanical Engineer. Payne had made Thomas' construction a reality, from drawing up his blueprints to supervising his piecing together. Payne, who was CME from 1914 to his death in 1951, never forgot this connection to "his" engine, and often wanted to be on the shop floor whenever Thomas was in for repairs.

Thomas’ “infancy” was in a word, harsh. He was working around the clock, surrounded by engines who came and went, and did little if any socializing. Foremen were ordering him about at every turn. His first friend ever was the new N.W.R. No. 2, Edward, the former Wellsworth and Suddery Railway’s No. 5 and only tender engine, who knew his old crewmates were chopped up to make Thomas. Thankfully, Edward knew better than to let Thomas in on this, lest he give him some sort of existential crisis, and he made quick work of making himself a mentor to the little engine.

In these conditions, Thomas’ “cheeky” and anti-authoritarian streak took shape. His whole life thus far had been work and taking lumps from his superiors, most of whom were English and not Sudrian. This morphed into a disrespect for big engines, who wanted him to be their errand boy as construction work began to ebb and focus shifted to running trains. Ever the contrarian, Thomas only doubles down on his disrespect for tender engines when he finds out that that’s “the traditional order of things.” Edward is of course exempt from this attitude, but in his tensest moments Thomas can even lose patience with HIM momentarily.

The war finally ends. January 1919 sees the N.W.R. out to make an identity for itself as peacetime takes hold and Parliament quietly rumbles about Grouping or outright Nationalization. Thomas is the first engine to wear "Hatt Blue with Red Stripes," the company's planned standard livery. This isn't unique to him for long, however, and Thomas' new line of work from hereon is Station Pilot for Vicarstown. Needless to say this is upsetting to him. He's not moving up and down the Island like he was when building the railway. He's still rushed off his wheels. He's expected to be answerable to tender engines as he makes up their trains. Most importantly, he's still having as much difficulty as before to make time to make friends. This new job is in every respect everything Thomas could have wanted to avoid, and there's no telling if he'll ever even get out of it. January 1919 is thus where "Wants to See the World" Thomas begins.

Thomas still gets to see Edward regularly, and he is for a pinch joined by two other tank engines shunting at Vicarstown. They're also ex-Wellsworth and Suddery Railway, Nos. 3 and 4 "Edwin" and "Victor." Thomas befriends Victor, who is a friendly old joker, but dislikes Edwin who has become cranky in his old and as a 2-4-0T has a tendency to slip and not be of much help. They leave him too, in 1922, when The Fat Director relocates them to run other branchlines on the Island. So, 1922 onward, we meet Thomas as the sole pilot, thoroughly busy and thoroughly lonely.

This seems more or less canon, but The Fat Director probably sent Thomas to Wellsworth after his runaway with Edward's trucks in anticipation of giving him the Ffarquhar Branch once he was a matured engine. He didn't give Thomas the line just because he rescued James in fine style, that was really what made his mind up.

Thomas looks kindly enough on Henry as a big engine at this time, he and Edward as mentioned aren't necessarily the kinds of "Big Engines" he dislikes. He'll occasionally give him a tease or two, or lose patience with his health, (something he now deeply regrets years later,) but there's no real malice in it. Think of him as the little brother poking fun at his bigger brother for having one arm in a cast, but altogether still feeling sorry for him and accommodating him how he can. Henry for his part appreciates Thomas, but takes his teasing very seriously considering how sensitive and implicating it is to, you know, his whole existence.

My idea of Thomas' relationship with Gordon is heavily inspired by @/mean-scarlet-deceiver's: Thomas is initially awed by Gordon's arrival and finally confident the N.W.R. can survive, but quickly resents him when he shows his true colors as a "big engine" through and through. I wouldn't even call Gordon and Thomas "friendly" until their alliance at Toryreck Mine. From 1923 all the way up to then, depending on when you place it, they... legitimately dislike each other. There's no affection beneath all the ribbing and jibes, they ACTUALLY disliked each other that whole period of time.

I'm still hashing out my headcanon of 98462 and 87546, (just know that those aren't actually their numbers,) but it's safe to say Thomas hates their guts, and '62 and '46 hate his guts in return as a servant willing to speak up for himself.

Thomas and James were a couple from 1924 to 1933, when they broke up amid the Big Engine Strike. I'd really rather reserve this for a post of its own at a later date.

Thomas and Percy are good friends, but I wouldn't go so far as to call them "best friends" like the TVS has so often hammered in. They clearly come to blows whenever the tension's too much. I like to explain that away as a shift in Thomas' character. With him doing more passenger work as Percy and Toby handle the stone trains, and his increasing fame, Thomas begins looking down on Percy, not long after he transferred to Ffarquhar in 1955 in fact. This might also have to do with unresolved feelings between them both. (Hey, remember that little green engine you kissed once just to try it over twenty years ago? He's your roommate now, probably forever. Play nice!)

#ttte thomas #ttte worldbuilding #ttte #ttte oc: short #ttte oc: stumpy #ttte oc: thomas reginald payne #ttte edward #ttte the fat director #ttte james #ttte henry #ttte gordon #ttte 98462 #ttte 87546 #ttte percy #ttte toby #ttte daisy #ttte shipping #engines kissing #thomas x james #thomas x percy #tw death #ttte oc: edwin #ttte oc: victor

[fivelakesinwriting]

The Other Woman {Ward Cameron}

Author's Notes: Ward has a mistress - but part of me also feels like Rose was the mistress at another point in his life. I have a feeling this story is very niche, but I wanted to write it. So..here we go. Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! xoxo

Warnings: Cheating, obviously. Character is very much of age - I'm thinking mid 30s.. Drinking, Sexual tension - sexual references/innuendos

Requested? Nope, kinda think this is just for me.. Requests for OBX are open.

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

His house was quiet, and that wasn't very common. For a man with three children - all within their teen years- it wasn't often that he had his grandiose home to himself.

Ward Cameron sat at his large, well polished desk and looked out the bay windows at the expansive property he had worked so hard for. He reached into the crystal vase upon the desk and pulled out a cigar, running his fingertips over it as he thought about the time he had to himself.

He placed the cigar delicately back on the desk and then reached for his cell phone. He opened up his contacts and scrolled through to find her name, then hit the dial button.

The phone rang, rang and rang. She liked to make him wait despite the way he had told her, many times, he didn't like to be kept waiting. He tapped his fingers impatiently against the wood of his desk as he approached the sixth ring, her voicemail about to pick up.

"Hi." Her voice sang on the other end of the voice, out of breath.

"Where were you?" Ward asked gruffly as he placed his cigar back in the crystal vase. He wasn't ready for it just yet.

"I just got finished working out, Ward." She breathed out.

"Yoga or Pilates today?" Ward inquired, his voice low.

"Treadmill. I'm sweaty and disgusting." She replied, that cocky smile and eyebrow raise beyond evident.

"Good. Don't change. I'll be over in 15 minutes." Ward stated as he stood up from his executive seat, and reached for his keys at the edge of his desk. He hung up the phone and made his way quickly from his office at the corner of the house and out to his vehicle, still warm from the setting sun.

He made it to her home in record time. The small house that could fit inside Tannyhill almost three times over sat between The Cut and Figure Eight - No Man's Land - as his wife kindly called it. There wasn't a lot around, not even other houses, but he knew that's why she liked it.

Ward parked his car, his shiny black SUV a sore thumb in front of her home. He clicked the lock button on his fob twice, to be sure, then made his way towards the front door.

"A 7p.m booty call? Man, you are old." She smiled as she opened her front door, and leaned against the frame to watch him as he made his way up the steps of her porch.

"Well, some of us don't have the luxury of living alone. Do we?" Ward asked as he ascended the stairs and made his way over to her, slow but with intention.

"Where is our friend Rose tonight?" She questioned as she pushed her body of the door frame to stand in front of him, her eyes scanning his body. So perfectly dressed for every occasion.

"At a meeting for the Women of Outer Banks Ladies Who Lunch Event." Ward grinned, his hands in his pocket.

"That's disgusting." She grimaced as she stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Ladies need lunch." Ward replied with a shrug while he removed his hands from his pockets to place them on her hips.

"I wouldn't know. I don't get invited to those types of events." She replied as she placed her hands on his shoulders, then slid her hands down to his chest.

"Yeah. Well, you don't want to be around those women anyways." Ward mumbled , his eyes looking just passed her and into the small home.

"Come inside, Ward. I'll make you a drink. Something fun. You've been drinking straight from the bottle for too long." She smiled as she removed her hands from his chest to take his hand and pull him inside.

Ward let the woman lead him inside her home, his eyes all over the objects inside as he familiarized himself with everything once more. He closed the door gently behind him then made his way up behind her as she looked over her small collection of bottles on a small bar cart.

"I always keep just a tiny bottle of scotch here for you, even though it's disgusting. I think you should have something fun, with lime or something. But it's your choice." She stated as her back was to him, the bottles clanking together as she read the labels.

Ward closed the distance between them, his chest pressed to her back as he stood directly behind her. He took hold of her waist and turned her around. A small smile passed his thin lips as she gasped at his firm touch. His rough fingertips smoothed over the curves of her body, catching on the material of her clothes.

"You're not that sweaty." Ward mumbled as his hands reached beneath the waistband of her shorts to gently touch her skin.

"It took you forever to get here." She quipped with a smirk, a small shiver running down her spine at the feel of his hands on her.

Ward chuckled at his lover's impatience. The drive from Tannyhill to No Man's Land was less than 15 minutes, 10 with the way he drove. He rolled the waistband of her tight workout pants down, showing off her hips. He pressed his forehead to hers and let her unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.

"How do you feel about going for a ride on the boat next weekend?" Ward asked as he pressed a kiss to the side of her face, his hands firmly on the sides of her ass.

"You want to take me out on your yacht?" She questioned as she pulled back to look up him, a smile crossing his face.

"I wouldn't call it a yacht, but yes." Ward grinned, a hand removed from her backside to reach up and push a piece of hair behind her ear.

"What about -"

"Rose and the girls will be out of town for some sort of bonding trip. And Rafe will be, well. I don't know where Rafe goes, but he won't have the boat." Ward replied with a soft sigh as he placed his hand on the side of her neck.

"You know, you're too hard on him. You were a 19 year old boy at one point your life, too." She stated as her fingers continued their trail down his shirt, undoing his buttons.

"Well, when I was 19 years old I was working three jobs and paying my own way through school. Not asking for handouts on top of allowances. He and I, we're different." Ward sighed as he removed his hands from his lover, slowly backing away from her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up. I know that he's kind of an issue for you right now." She replied, as she ran her hands over her face.

As Ward opened his mouth to reply, he touched his pocket, a deep sigh rumbling in his chest. He pulled out his phone and brought it to his ear.

"Hello, sweetheart." Ward greeted, pasting on a beaming smile despite how his eyes looked so sad over at his lover.

"I'm just at the office finishing up a few contracts. Do you need me now?" He asked as he placed his other hand in his pocket, pacing the small living room.

"Okay. I'll be there in about 20 minutes, meet me in our usual pick up spot. Love you too, Wheezie." Ward ended the conversation with his youngest, then placed the phone back in his pocket with another heavy sigh.

He looked across the room at her again, his eyes apologetic. He took the few steps over to her and wrapped her in his arms again, placing a small kiss to the top of her head.

"I have to go." Ward mumbled as he pulled her close.

"It's okay. Guess I'll just shower without you." She replied, a small smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to his chest.

"I suppose so. But next weekend I'll be here early in the morning to pick you up to take you out on the water, okay? I promise." Ward stated, a smile of his own crossing his lips.

"Whatever you say, Ward." She shrugged as she placed her hands on his sides, under his unbuttoned shirt to keep him close.

Ward leaned down to press his lips to hers, the whiskers of his beard tickling to soft skin of her face. As quickly as his lips were there, he pulled away. He took his hands off of her to begin buttoning up his shirt once more. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and slowly made his way towards her front door again, his fingertips touching his lips before he turned back to her.

"9am. Saturday. I will be here and I expect you to be out front waiting for me." Ward stated firmly, a small smile on his bearded face.

"Yes, sir." She replied as she brought her hand to her head for a salute.

Ward pointed a finger at her with warning before he tossed her a wink and walked out the front door towards his car, which he was always surprised was still there. He got in the car and drove off of No Man's Land, his hopes alive for the chance to come back on Saturday to take her for a ride on his boat.

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment - perhaps a sequel for a boat ride, if there's interest? Thank you!! xoxo

Requests for OBX are open!

#if you read this - bless you #ward cameron #ward cameron imagine #obx imagine #obx fic #obx ward #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #ward cameron fic

[blazichu]

#catch me rattling on about GG pt 2 for paragraphs

Please continue when you can. I love your reading your analysis!

Apparently I'm incapable of looking over one half of Good Genes without doing the other, so I guess we get a double feature tonight:

Part 1:

I am, of course, contractually obligated to point out my favorite line from the cold open: "My friend Donatello is one of the gentlest souls I've met, with one of the finest minds I've ever known." It seems especially relevant since, later on, Stockman reduces Don to "The smart one"

One thing I noticed this run through is that Leo's speech is slightly different than usual this arc. My favorite is his response to "It's only a matter of time before [Don] is lost forever"; his tone changes dramatically between the two halves of his line, "That's not gonna happen" and "We can't let that happen." The first is his usual 'decisive leader' voice, but the second has this kind of worried warble to it. It's great, and Sinterniklaas gets an A+

Of course there's the breakfast sequence. I don't really have much that hasn't already been said about it, but there's something sweet and sad about how Mike says that he "Just wanted to give him some food". It's just so little, a basic need that he's trying to fill because he cares, and it goes so wrong so fast.

My fourth point is kiiiinda weird and a stretch, but I've always loved the way Outbreak (as an arc) sets up so many bits and pieces that pay off specifically in AiTS/GG. It's usually stuff Don's been working on-- like the trapper gear, the tunnel to April's, or Stockman's helicopter. It's just neat, kind of setting up how indispensable Don's presence really is if he's able to help without being mentally present.

Anyway, right back to Leo and line delivery. The other part of this is that he keeps hesitating and grasping for the right words when it comes to what happened to Don. He refuses to put a name to it when he tells everyone that the helicopter was the last thing Don was working on, "[...] before... Before."

There's also "Don got infected. He's been transformed into... into a monster."

This is something I've definitely written about before, but idk if I ever posted it. Don's behavior after arriving at Area 51 is remarkably intelligent. He's able to use the guards' taser sticks against one another to get free, take out Leatherhead while he has the element of surprise (notable in that Leatherhead was the biggest threat/the one to subdue him in AiTS), turns on Stockman (who was responsible for the transfer in the first place), uses the glass from the containment unit as a shield, and actively prevents Splinter from doing whatever mind thing he did earlier. It's a far cry from lashing out and snapping wildly, and I've always thought it was interesting.

And the tranquilizer scene. Honestly, I find it kind of hard to watch, but I do like the way Leo kneels down next to Don after he's knocked out.

Part 2

I'm gonna talk about cold opens again, because I just realized that this episode essentially begins and ends with the same message: "It's an impossible mission, but what can we do? Our brother is sick, and there's nothing we won't do to save him."

So. The really cool thing about Good Genes Part 2 is how much it directly highlights the lack of Don's presence without actually saying as much. Raph splits off to handle the technology (albeit in an explosive manner) and is seen hauling the duffelbag around. Leo has the headset and is coordinating with April throughout the mission. Which leads me to...

One of the major set pieces in this episode is a callback: the obstacle hallway, Mystic chamber and elevator from Return to New York. I don't think it was an intentional connection, but part of their plan involves repurposing a mech suit to use against the Foot, which is exactly what Don did with Stockman's robotic body in Return. This bulletpoint is 100% me finding meaning where there probably wasn't any, but still.

This one's slightly off topic, but I've said before that I thought it was a dumb decision to have Leo confirm to Karai that the rest of his family was alive and well at the end of Prodigal Son-- this episode is 99% of why I think it was a missed opportunity. Iirc, Karai doesn't appear between then and now, so this would be the first indication she'd have that anyone survived her assault-- and all the boys are here except Don. I just think there's a lot of potential there.

At one point, as Karai calls the Elite into the fray, Leo tells Mikey to take the Heart of Tengu and run-- that he'd hold them off. 'Them' being the Elite; he's about to face the Elite by himself to ensure that this works out. Just try to tell me that's not a statement and a half.

Idk why, but "Get in get out, right? It's not about Karai, right?" always stuck with me.

It's interesting how the episode also calls back to the old intro sequence, where April's piloting a helicopter and Don's jumping onto the rope ladder hanging down from it. Not much to say here, but it's neat.

I'm really bad at making out overlapping voices (and can't make sense of Mikey's line here at all), but after Leatherhead catches Don, you can hear Raph ask him how he's feeling, and Leo say "It's so good to see you again"

I mentioned Raph helping Don to the helicopter in the tags of that last post, but I'm also going to point out that Leo, who is supposed to be flying the helicopter at the end of the episode, is emphatically not watching where he's going.

And, of course, the big one: "I hope you guys didn't go through too much trouble for me."/"Nah!"

In addition to the first point for this episode-- the implication that NO trouble would have been too much-- there's the fact that, when nobody answers for a bit, you can see Don's expression fall. It's that fact that makes me love Mikey's reaction so much-- the way he grins back and tries to sooth that worry down.

Idk how much of this was really analysis, Anon, but I did promise to rattle on for paragraphs, and had a good time doing it. I hope you get some entertainment out of this ;)

#anon #replies #the never ending ride #sorry it took so long #tumblr was giving me grief re: formatting #and my cats were giving me grief re: being cats

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (13)

(Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!! I’d say that this is a gift for the day, but this is my usual update time lol please enjoy the new chapter anyway! There’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries :D)

Ch.1 / Ch.12 / Ch.14  (ao3)

Chapter 13: I’ll Make You a Deal

Lila stalked the halls of Dupont, doing her best to hide her scowl as she massaged her temples. When she offered to take Marinette’s job as Class President, she hadn’t realized how much extra work she was dumping onto herself. She thought that the title was just that: a title. Nothing more. Nothing less. Sure, she would have to verify a few things, acknowledge her classmates’ opinions towards the school system, and speak out about it as a representative towards them, but that was all. She didn’t expect it to rearrange her entire schedule towards life! Her head was pounding from the late nights of filing student complaints, her back ached from carrying this stupid binder around, and her wrist still twinged with pain from signing too many papers at once. It was ridiculous!

Lying to Bustier about those forms didn’t make it any easier either. Instead of getting to make minor additions to the papers Marinette had already written, she now had to rewrite all of the forms herself. The entire process was a nightmare, and Lila couldn’t escape. If she lied again and said that Marinette gave the forms back, that would be glorifying the girl, and she refused to do that. However, if she lied and said that she simply found the forms again, it would not only make her look suspicious, but also incompetent. She couldn’t have either of those descriptions attached to her person. 

So, that left her with the agonizing option of filling them out again herself. She tried to push it onto Alya, and for the most part, she succeeded. The red-head filled out a good half before handing them back, but that still left Lila with the other half. Thus, she’s spent the last three nights in a row doing nothing but signing form after form after form. The fact that she had to use Marinette’s forms as reference only made it worse. She could practically hear the ravenette laughing at her every time she glanced over the original paperwork. It was utterly humiliating.

And don’t get her started on the amount of requests or complaints that she had to file. Everyday her classmates came to her asking for this or that or “could you change this about our classroom?”. Sometimes they would talk about the seats being too hard or the fact that they didn’t have enough recess or how the stairs were too far apart and someone could trip. Then- oh, then -there were the class trips. One request was a literal trip to Greece. Greece! Did they think she or the school was just made of money? How can they possibly be this greedy or entitled? How was Marinette able to handle it all so easily? She made it look like it was nothing!

Lila clenched her fists at her side, her nails digging into her skin. Even after running from the school with her tail between her legs, Marinette was still acting as a sharp, irritating thorn in Lila’s side. 

Sparkling laughter interrupted her thoughts, and Lila turned to the two boys standing outside of the library entrance. Adrien Agreste, the golden child of the school, and Nino, his little sidekick- as far as Lila was concerned -appeared to be chatting mindlessly on their way back to class, which was typical. Adrien was always talking with somebody now-a-days. That was another problem of hers. 

When Marinette first left, Adrien became distraught and distant. He began muttering to himself and not listening in class, dismissing everyone with a hum and a nod. The other students berated him for the behavior, wonderfully captured in Lila’s beautifully crafted web of words, but he hardly heard them. Or if he did, he didn’t care. He continued to write things in his notebook that certainly weren’t lesson notes and run his hand through his hair with frustration when he hit some sort of wall. 

It was irritating, of course, but nothing Lila hadn’t expected. Marinette was supposed to be his “very good friend”, after all. She would have been surprised if he hadn’t mourned the loss. What she didn’t anticipate, though, was the way he bounced back. 

It had to have happened a little over two weeks after Marinette left, because Lila remembered finally starting to feel comfortable in her new role of being able to lie unchallenged. She was spewing some crap about Marinette sending her mean messages, making sure her tears looked real enough and her sobs were believable, when Adrien decided to jump into the conversation. He flashed her a bright smile and, in the kindest voice she’d ever heard, asked her for the texts that Marinette had sent. 

The question alone had surprised her, considering the fact that he hadn’t really spoken to anyone in a while, but that smile he held was really the thing to set her on edge. It was simply too sweet-looking for someone who had just indirectly asked for proof of her story, especially when they both knew that she was lying. 

She couldn’t understand the change. He’d been cowering in the corner for the last two weeks, and yet that day, he was out for blood on her account. Why? What was the difference between the last two weeks and that day? She still doesn’t know. 

Adrien’s determination towards outing her cranked up to eleven after that . He went from barely talking to one person throughout the day to talking with everyone on a constant basis, and anytime Lila so much as uttered a sentence, he was there asking questions. When did she do this, who helped her with that, how did she manage to get from one place to the other so quickly- from a naïve onlooker’s point of view, Adrien would simply appear to be interested in Lila’s stories, but she knew better. He was finding holes in her stories and using them to rip apart her words piece by piece, all while using an innocent yet confused expression to make it seem like he was trying to help her. The strategy was completely different from Marinette’s, and it ticked Lila off to no end. How was she supposed to turn crowds against him and regain her throne if he kept acting like some pure-hearted angel?

She couldn’t. She knew she couldn’t, and he knew that she couldn’t, because that’s the exact same tactic that eventually got Marinette to leave the school.

A part of her had hoped that this newfound passive-aggression would fade after a few days, but now that three weeks of constant badgering on Adrien’s account has passed, that hope has been thoroughly and relentlessly crushed. He hasn’t done much over those weeks, thankfully, but she’s had to reinforce her lies ten times the normal amount to keep it that way. That’s a tad hard to do when all of your stories are on the grand scale of things. 

Even with her meticulous planning and words choices, though, one can’t escape subtle confrontation forever. She could tell that people were slowly starting to become suspicious of her stories. They were either wanting Adrien to be around during their discussions with her or were looking for holes themselves. 

Watching them exchange glances during her stories made her blood boil. Why did they have to be so nosy? So picky? Can’t she have a reprieve for once in her entire life? Can’t she just lie and manipulate others without the fear of getting caught? Why did that feel like such a big request from the universe?

Adrien and Nino waved to each other, and Lila perked up. It looked like they were separating. Were they separating? Oh, please be separating. That would be the most convenient thing to happen to her all month.

Adrien split off from Nino, to her delight, and Lila beelined after the blond. His meddling had gone on long enough, and she thought it was high time someone put an end to it. That someone being her. 

“Adrien!” Lila cooed, looping her arm with his and flashing a bright smile. “It’s been forever since we’ve talked just one on one, don’t you think?”

Adrien’s steps faltered, and for the briefest of moments, she saw his eyes darken. Nobody else would have noticed, especially not with the friendly smile he gave her right after, but Lila caught it. She was the only one who realized how truly despicable the model could be. 

“Oh, hey Lila.” He replied with an easy, clearly fake smile. “I guess we haven’t talked alone in a while. You normally like to be at the center of the crowd.”

Lila tried not to grit her teeth and instead elected to flip her hair over her shoulder. “Well, I wouldn’t say the center. I’m just being myself, and the others seem to follow.”

Adrien hummed. “Yes, I’m sure you're a wonderful role model for all of us. It isn’t everyday we get the courtesy of having an honest and kind friend like you.”

His sarcasm was palpable, but his shining smile remained. A part of her wondered why he even bothered acting at this point. They both knew they were at war now. Niceties were only necessary when someone was clueless towards hidden motives. Adrien wasn’t, and neither was she, yet here they were. Smiling and trading snide remarks in the privacy of the empty locker room. 

Lila put on a bashful expression. “Oh, please-”

“Of course,” Adrien interrupted her, “there was also Marinette. She was always ready to help someone. It’s a shame she had to transfer schools.”

Lila bit the inside of her cheek to avoid sneering. There he goes again, mentioning that ridiculous baker girl. It’s so infuriating.

“Even though she was a bully? I’m sorry, Adrien, but I don’t think you should forgive someone so easily. They’ll walk all over you if you give them too much leeway.”

Adrien slipped- or rather jerked -his arm out of Lila’s grasp as he exchanged some of his books. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?”  

Ah, there it is. That might have been the first genuine comment he’s made during this discussion. 

“What was that?” She asked with feigned politeness.

Adrien straightened and gave her another innocent smile. “Oh, nothing. I was just wondering if this could all be a big misunderstanding? The phone number that was terrorizing you wasn’t Marinette’s, after all. If you were.. mistaken.. on that story, perhaps you missed something in your other stories. Don’t you think so?”

Lila forced a smile so wide that her cheeks started to hurt. Was this his way of giving her an out? A last chance of mercy? Because if it was, she refused to take it. She’s built this kingdom with nothing but her bare hands, and she’d be darned if she decided to lie down and let him take it away just as quickly. 

“I can’t say I do.”

Adrien closed his locker, a certain glint coming to his eyes when he looked at her. “Well.. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what I find. Won’t we?” 

Rage crackled through Lila’s bones as Adrien walked past her, but she caught herself before doing anything rash. If she was going to counter Adrien’s sudden attacks, she needed to make a deal with him and get him off of her back just long enough to plan. And to do that, she needed to promise him what he apparently wanted most.

“What if it wasn’t her?”

Adrien stopped in the doorway, and Lila held her breath.

“..Because it wasn’t her,” he corrected, “I’ll be hoping that she comes back.”

Lila drew in a deep breath, if only to avoid screaming. Marinette, Marinette, Marinette- Why did he have to have to be so infatuated with Marinette? What could she possibly have that made Adrien want to fight against the whole school to get her back? 

“Alright..” She said, completely calm. “Say you were right. If it happened to turn out that Marinette wasn’t the one responsible and I convince her to come back, will we all be able to get along?”

Bile rose to her mouth as she spoke. The very thought of running back to Marinette and asking her to come back to Dupont made Lila’s stomach churn, but this was fine. She was only promising to bring Marinette back. Promises can easily be broken.

Adrien smiled, but not like the fake, warm smiles he’d been giving her throughout their conversation. No, this one was sharp, predatory, as though he could see right through her words.

“See you in class, Lila.”

The “golden child” left the locker room then, and Lila finally gave in to her frustration and let out a growl. This was supposed to be her victory, her turf, and yet she can’t even enjoy it anymore because Adrien freaking Agreste decided to meddle in business that wasn’t his. He knew that the only reason she was willing to compromise was because he was getting to her, and that burned her up inside. 

She drew in another deep breath and smoothed out her miniature ponytails. This was fine. Everything was fine. Adrien might be deciding to join the squabble a tad later than usual, but Lila invented this game. If he wanted to try his hand at her tactics and strategies, fine. He would soon realize why she was able to climb to the top in the first place.

~~~~~~~

Marinette stared out the car window with awe as they drove up the street towards Allegra’s estate. In the week that led to the group sleepover, Marinette had racked her brain day and night trying to decide what the mansion would be like. How tall would it be? How wide? Would it take up an entire street or a small square of Paris like Gabriel’s? Would there be butlers running around like in the movies or would there be a simple maid or two to keep things moving? Perhaps there wouldn’t be any hired hand at all? The excitement and anticipation made her buzz and bounce through the last few school days at Rosemary, but she refused to ask any questions during the wait for winter break. Marinette wanted the mansion to be a complete surprise. And now that she was finally here, sitting in the backseat of Allegra’s miniature limo and practically pressing her face against the window, she couldn’t be happier with that decision.

Mansions of all kinds lined the sidewalks, bigger and more elegant than she could have ever imagined. Some had marvelous fountains, while others had incredible gardens. Some had amazing walls with ingrained art that lined the premises, and one mansion even had horses grazing on their front lawn! It made her wonder why Gabriel would build his mansion in the middle of the city, or if any of these mansions might belong to Claude, Allan, or Felix. 

Near the end of the street rested a long brick wall that had elaborate, white statues decorating the major corners. Marinette guessed immediately that that was Allegra’s mansion, because the wall wrapped around an enormous white house that had silver railings for the balconies and blue-ish grey tiles for the rooftops, quite contrary to the golds and dark browns that came with the other mansions. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and that seemed like something Allegra would enjoy, even if the house belonged directly to her parents. 

Sure enough, the car rolled to a stop in front of the black metal gate that the brick walls led to, and the driver told Marinette to stay put as he hopped out of the vehicle. She watched quietly as he unlocked the gate by hand using a personal key and quickly found herself wiggling in her seat when he started pushing the gates open. They were so close! Allegra’s mansion was right there! If they didn’t start moving again in two seconds, Marinette might just jump out and start running.

The driver got back into the car with a small apology for the inconvenience- to which she assured him that it was fine through barely contained squeals -and they continued through the gate at a leisure pace, which killed Marinette inside. She wanted to get into the mansion now!

In an effort to remain still, her eyes flicked around the front lawn of the estate. The driveway they had pulled into appeared to be a full circle, looping around an intricate water fountain that spouted bursts of water in such a way that made the water look as though it were dancing.  Diamonds of dark green grass cut through the concrete in the driveway, leading to the rest of the vibrant grass on the lawn, and a delightful mix of bushes and flowers lined the inside of the brick wall as well the outside of the mansion. It struck Marinette as quaint and refined at the same time, and her respects went out to the person- or persons -responsible for designing and maintaining the look.

Finally, the limo parked in front of these wide, marble steps that led to the front door, and the driver barely had time to open Marinette’s back door before she leapt out with her bags in her arms. If the outside was this luxurious, she couldn’t wait to see how breathtaking the inside would be. 

“Thanks for the ride, sir!” She called over her shoulder as she hopped up the steps two-by-two.

“Oh, miss-!” The man yelled after her. “May I take your bags?”

Marinette skidded to a halt and turned around, ready to politely decline his offer, when another voice spoke up behind her.

“No need, Louis! I’ve got them.”

Marinette whirled back around, coming face to face with Allegra, who was now standing in the doorway with a bright smile. 

The blonde reached forward to take the bags with one hand, while giving Marinette a side hug with the other. “I’m so happy you’re here! This is going to be great.”

“I know! I’ve been waiting for this all week! Your house looks amazing.”

A grin spread across Allegra’s lips, and she pulled back from the hug in favor of grabbing Marinette’s hand. “If you like it now, just wait till you see the inside.”

The two girls waltzed inside together, but as soon as she entered, Marinette couldn’t help gasping and breaking away from Allegra to run further into the house. Tiled, marble floors stretched out before her, seemingly farther than the street she had just driven down, and on the other side of the bigger-than-life foyer was a set of large, open windows that touched from the floor of the first level to the ceiling of the second level. They overlooked the backyard, which was equally as enchanting as the front yard, and a part of her had the urge to sit down and stare at them wistfully for a good hour or two.

To her left and right were a pair of long, curved stairs that led to the second floor. They matched the marble tiles on the first floor and had beautiful, metal railings that curled and twisted into different types of flowers and leaves. The railing also trailed off to the open hallways above, where Marinette could see different types of doors lined up. Her restless brain wanted to skip up the stairs, brush her hand across the smooth, black railing, and explore each and every room possible.

Her gaze dragged up to the ceiling, and her jaw fell slack yet again as she realized exactly how high the building was. The circular sunroof that signified the center of the ceiling felt higher than the Eiffel Tower itself, and Marinette was certain that if she called out, it would take at least five seconds to hear her voice echoing back to her.

“Well?” Allegra asked next to her. “What do you think?”

“What do I think?” Marinette blanched. “Allegra, this is incredible! Do you really live here?”

A musical laugh came from the blonde, and she nodded. “Yep. Ever since I was five. Come on, I’ll give you a tour!”

They made their way to the stairs, and Marinette eagerly ran her hand across the cool railings as she continued to look around. She couldn’t believe how astonishing everything looked. It was as though they’d taken the finest jewels and rocks on earth and merged them together to create this mansion. How did they even afford all of this?

“What did you say your mom did again?”

Allegra glanced over at her. “My mom? She’s a-”

“Hey!”

The two girls paused mid step and looked up at the open hallway. Claude stood just above them, leaning over the railing and waving with a wide grin. Allan stood behind him, also offering the girls a friendly smile as a greeting.

“Is that Marinette?” Claude called.

“Yep! She just got here.”

“Sweet!” The brunette cheered. He dashed from his place upstairs and, once he got a good enough momentum, jumped to a stop, using his socks to slide the rest of the way to the stairwell. “We’ve been waiting forever for you to show up!”

Marinette giggled and ran up the rest of the stairway to give Claude a hug. “I got my clothes together as fast as I could.”

“Oh, you’re good.” Allan assured as he came to join them. “You’re technically early anyway.”

“I thought I was.” Marinette remarked, pulling away from Claude to give Allan a small hug as well. “Is Felix here too?”

“Nope, it’s just us right now.” Claude answered with a smile. “We already had clothes here from previous sleepovers.”

“They practically have their own personal closets at this point.” Allegra snorted. Then, she gave Marinette a playful nudge. “And soon, so will you.”

Marinette smiled. She wasn’t sure that she even had enough clothes to fill another closet, but it didn’t stop her from feeling giddy towards receiving one. Having a personal closet at Allegra’s meant she would be coming over much more often, and that was something she desperately wanted to do at this point.

“Have you shown her around yet?” Claude asked.

“Nope. I was gonna show her my room first, though, so I can put her bags down in there.”

“Oh, good idea.” The brunette remarked, taking the opportunity to snag Marinette’s bags from Allegra’s hands. “Let’s go! You’re gonna love it, Mari.”

With everyone together- save for Felix -the group eagerly clambered down the hallway that Claude and Allan had previously been in. The black railway from the staircase continued to twist down the hall next to Marinette, and when it finally stopped at a wall, Claude stopped at a doorway to his right. Glittering stickers arched across the door, spelling out the word “Allegra”.

“Those are from when I was, like, nine.” Allegra commented, a hint of a blush on her cheeks as she opened her bedroom door.

Marinette was about to say that it was fine- she actually found the lettering to be endearing -but any form of words or replies were lost on her when she saw the bedroom for the first time.

Everything was covered in light purples and white, with occasional bits of gold and light blue to accent the room. An enormous, deep purple bed with swirling, golden patterns sat in the center, holding pillows that were bigger than Marinette’s bed alone and a comfort that looked fluffier than her warmest ear-muffs. A pair of blue, see-through curtains wrapped around the bed as well, reminding her of something a princess might own. 

Across the room- which was twice the size of her little attic bedroom -were two white shelves that stretched from wall to wall and floor to ceiling. They held various things such as books, notebooks, miniature glass statues, and plenty of other trinkets that struck Marinette as charming. She wondered how long it must have taken Allegra to collect such things, or if she bought them all in one go as she decorated her room. There were even a few crystal wind-chimes hanging around the room. 

“This is..” Marinette wasn’t sure what it was as she walked inside, star-struck. The girl even had her own chandelier, for Pete’s sake! Then there was the massive vanity with a million different types of eyeshadow- all aligned perfectly in an orderly fashion -and the massive desk on the other side of the room that had a fancy paperweight and a nice, little trinket to hold all of Allegra’s pencils and such for school. Don’t get her started on the chair hanging from the ceiling that looked equally fancy and comfortable.

“Do I really get to sleep in here?” She eventually asked instead. Words couldn’t describe her thoughts on the room or how it looked like something out of a daydream. 

Allegra laughed. “Yep! We’re actually going to be spending most of the night here.”

“After we go swimming, of course.” Claude added as he set Marinette’s bags down in the walk-in closet.

Marinette’s eyes widened at the remark. She’d almost forgotten why she came here in the first place. “Where is the swimming pool?”

“It’s downstairs.” Allegra answered. “I can’t wait for you to see it. We have a water slide and everything.”

Marinette would have gasped, but after what she’s seen so far, she wouldn’t be surprised if they had their own personal zoo. “Can we go see it?”

“Absolutely!” The blonde smiled, looping her arm with Marinette’s. “But first, we need to finish our tour.”

The group made their way out of Allegra’s room and started exploring each door they passed. Claude, Allan, and Allegra took turns explaining each room’s purpose to Marinette, and she absorbed their words as best she could. Most of the time, though, she was lost in her thoughts, completely awed by the structure of the household.

Each room appeared to be bigger than the last, and some of them had Marinette nearly falling over from the amount of money that had to have gone into the décor. There were offices and dining halls and bigger bedrooms for Allegra’s parents. Then there were game rooms with pool tables and living rooms with couches that stretched around the entire room so everyone could see each other. Vases and sculptures lined the hallways and hid in the corners while extensive family portraits littered walls and held personal places on overly huge fireplaces. 

In a word, the entire mansion was extravagant, especially for a three-person family, but despite the overwhelming amount of space, Marinette could feel the warmth and familial love of each room. A multitude of memories resided in the walls, and she couldn’t wait to hear all of them.

One room in particular caught her attention the most.

“What is this place?” Marinette asked as she walked into another wide-spread room. Musical instruments of all kinds littered the area- harps, violins, cellos, pianos, guitars, mandolins, and other things she couldn’t even name. They all appeared to be in mint condition, so clean that she could see her reflection in them, and the little kid in Marinette wanted to run around and try each one of them.

“This,” Allegra said next to her, “is our music room.”

“Music room..” Marinette whispered as her hand ran over a pair of literal bongos. “Can you actually play all of these?”

Claude snorted behind them. “She definitely wishes she could.”

Allegra scoffed and smacked his arm with a playful glare. 

“No, I can’t play all of them.. But I’m working on it.”

“Wow.” Marinette muttered. That had to be time consuming. Where did she find the drive to keep practicing all of these? 

“..Can I touch them?”

“Oh, yeah! Touch them all. Go crazy. I can even teach you how to play a little tune for some of them if you want.”

Marinette lit up. “Can you really?”

Allegra chuckled. “Of course. We have all night, don’t we?”

Marinette had to bite her tongue to avoid squealing again, and she promptly darted off to try everything she could. Any strings and keys would be briefly plucked and pressed before being cast away for the next instrument. She would thump on the drums and blow on the tubas and, occasionally, she would stop to try a few simple tunes on an instrument that sounded especially enchanting to her. 

After about thirty minutes of this heaven- there were a lot of instruments -someone knocked on the doorframe at the front of the room, gathering the group’s attention.

A man with light brown hair stood in the doorway, offering an easy, yet apologetic smile. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Allegra, who had been teaching Marinette how to play the Panda Drum, hopped up from her position on the floor to greet him with a hug. “Not at all! I was just showing Marinette around the house. Mari, this is my dad, Arthur. Dad, this is Marinette, my friend from school that I’ve been telling you about.”

Marinette set the drum aside and stood up as well. “It’s nice to meet you, M. Chanson.”

“Oh, please.” M. Chanson held up a dismissive hand. “Just call me Arthur. Or even Uncle Arthur, if you like.”

A soft smile spread across Marinette’s lips, and she nodded. He sounded exactly like Maman when someone new came to their house.

“Anyway, I just came by to drop off the last bit of your group. He found me in the kitchen while looking for you.” Arthur said. He then stepped to the side to reveal none other than Felix, who had apparently been standing behind him the whole time.

Marinette perked up at the sight of the blond. “Oh, Felix! You’re here!”

“Here late.” Claude added with a smirk.

Felix shot him a look. “I’m not late. I told you all that I wouldn’t quite be here at the same time as everyone else.”

“Telling us that you’re going to be late doesn’t mean that you weren’t late.” Allegra pointed out. “It just means that you were considerate about your tardiness.”

Felix narrowed his eyes at her, knowing she was correct, and Marinette pursed her lips to avoid laughing, because she also knew that Allegra was correct.

“So I see you’ve been showing her my instruments?” Arthur cut in, redirecting the conversation.

Marinette’s eyes widened. “These are your instruments?”

Arthur chuckled. “Yep. In fact, I taught Allegra everything she knows.”

“You mean you can actually play all of them?”

“Well, some better than others,” The man responded with a half shrug, “but yeah. I’m honestly a little disappointed that A didn’t come get me when she showed you the room.”

Allegra winced. “Oh, sorry, Dad. I wasn’t thinking about it.”

“That’s amazing..” Marinette remarked, dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine having enough memory to know how each individual instrument was played. 

Arthur tilted his head back and forth with a hum. “I wouldn’t say amazing. A lot of these instruments are extremely similar to how they’re played, and at some point, once you’ve learned enough, you start to realize that a lot of music has a certain order to it. When you know that order, it makes playing a lot easier.”

“Oh, don’t be modest.” Allegra scolded. “Who else can play almost all of the instruments of the world and memorize any new instruments within a week?”

Before Arthur could respond, Allegra turned to Marinette with a proud smile and continued.

“Dad’s able to combine these instruments like no one I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot. It’s like he’s memorized every string, key, or chord possible! He’s even written songs for us too. Some of them are just funny little melodies to go with Claude’s acts, but others are full songs that he performs for me and Mom. Sometimes, when Mom’s stressed, he’ll sing or play for her to help her relax. I personally think that the songs he writes then are the best ones.”

The more she talked, the more bashful Arthur became, and Marinette couldn’t help cooing at the man. The thought of someone writing songs for the person they loved and singing them when that person felt down brought a wonderful warmth to her chest. It actually reminded her of another sweet boy she knew, one with blue-tipped hair and a smile that could melt the arctic.

“I have a friend like that.” She decided to say. Why not tell the others about him too? “He has a passion for the guitar and plays songs for me when I feel down too. It’s so calming.”

Something in her tone or expression must have caught their interest, because the group’s attention shifted from Allegra to Marinette in an instant. Before she could ask about the sudden change, Claude slipped an arm around her shoulders, flashing her a sly grin.

“Oh? A friend, you say?” He drawled. “You sound pretty fond of him. What’s his name?”

An involuntary blush crept across Marinette’s cheeks, more so at the implication in Claude’s voice than anything else. After two years of hanging around Alya, with her raised eyebrows and coy smiles, she could tell when someone was trying to accuse her of certain feelings towards another. 

“O-Oh. uhm.. His name is Luka.”

“Luka..” Allegra hummed. “I’ve never heard you mention his name before.”

“And I’ve never seen her blush like that before, either.” Claude teased. “You’re not being very subtle, Nette.”

Marinette felt her blush deepen, even though they both knew she was easily flustered. She’s probably blushed a million times in the month that she’s known them, and most of those blushes were definitely darker than the one she was wearing even now.

Her gaze flicked to Felix, curious as to what he thought on the matter. His expression remained neutral, though she spotted a bit of intrigue in his eyes. It didn’t help with her guilt towards the comments.

Then again, why should she feel guilty? Even if she did like Luka, that wouldn’t affect anyone here. There was no reason to be ashamed.

Nevertheless, she still wanted to slip her way out of getting teased, so she jokingly rolled her eyes and said, “You guys said we were going to go swimming, right? Felix is here, and it’s getting dark so we should probably change before it gets too late.”

“The pool is indoors.” Claude helpfully reminded. “It doesn’t matter how late it gets.”

“But that was a good try at dodging, though.” Allegra smirked.

A squeak flew from Marinette’s lips before she could stop it, and the trio shared a laugh.

“Come on, guys.” Allan lightly scolded. “If you keep messing with her like this, she might spontaneously combust.”

Another laugh tumbled from Claude’s lips before he let out a dramatic sigh. “Alright, fine. I guess we can go swimming now.”

“Marinette has to cool off, anyway.” Allegra added with a wink.

Marinette groaned and put her head in her hands, if only to hide her ever-growing blush. 

Mental note: Never mention a boy to the group again, because they will probably see right through you when it’s actually serious.

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#felinette #Marinette #Felix Culpa #Quantic Kids #Rosemary AU #New Girl on the Block