#i just want my cube animal to be happy man is that too much to ask for | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIXTEEN || KYOTO SISTER SCHOOL EXCHANGE EVENT - GROUP BATTLE 2

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of explosions + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 29 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.2k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 1

↳ next episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ barista’s notes : it’s been a while huh? ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ BUT! my exams and easter hoilday is nearly here, so i will be able to update more than i have been this month, so thank you all so much for being so patient with me ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ my heart can’t take all the kindness ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ other than that, i hope you all enjoy today’s episode since fushiugro doesn’t pop up until like episode eighteen...so hope you love all the made up scenarios that i have constructed ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

no cursed spells used this episode..

but the little sword swing is inspired by this : here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“What’s with the smiley look on your face?” you asked as you lifted your eyebrow in curiosity since the man in front of you had a somewhat goofy grin plastered on him while adding a ridiculous amount of sugar cubes into his coffee cup causing you to shiver since you couldn’t imagine how sweet the caffeinated drink would be now if you tried it right now.

“Oh, nothing~ I’m just glad that I got to spend time with my daughter since we both have been so busy lately,” Gojo answered you brightly before grabbing the small metal spoon that was placed on the white saucer below his cup to stir the dark drink to quicken the process of the sugar dissolving.

Right now in the afternoon, you and Gojo were at a random luxury dessert place in the middle of Tokyo, where he had unexpectedly dragged you out of training that you had with the first and second years - much to their complete dismay - to have some ‘father and daughter’ bonding time together, leaving them to prepare today’s training by themselves since their plans were ruined with you now gone out of the scenario.

“Please don’t call me that,” you muttered as you processed to swirl your iced orange and mango juice with your straw before taking a quick sip of the cold beverage causing the tropical flavour to enlighten a light feeling of happiness within your stomach.

“So~ how is training for the exchange event going on?” Gojo asked as he took a sip of his cup causing you to look up at him before moving your lips away from the plastic straw. “It’s going well, Fushiguro and Kugisaki are improving bit by bit as well as the second years, it’s progress,” you replied back as your head began to nod slowly as you began to process everything in your head.

“Ah~ I knew I could count on you,” Gojo mentioned with a proud smile present on his face before looking over to the side to find the waiter coming to your table with the desserts that you both had ordered.

‘Well...isn’t it really your job as a teacher to train them?’

“Thank you so much,” you said to the waiter as they placed down your plates before giving you a nod as they processed to look after the other customers that were also in the cafe right now, leading Gojo to look at the treats in such delight before handing you one of the plates since he was the one that ordered everything - which was a complete surprise since you didn’t think he would remember you liking orange juice at all.

“Here you are! Tiramisu with fresh strawberries on top,” Gojo expressed with an excited tone causing you to look at him with a perplexed expression before slowly peering down at the small white plate that was placed in front of you to only find the mentioned dessert with a small fork right beside it.

“Did...you know I like tiramisu?” you asked bewilderedly since you had never mentioned anything about your favourite treats to Gojo since he was so keen on ordering as quickly as possible the second you both got here, to get the beautiful desserts as early as possible leaving you no room to add what you wanted.

“You were looking at it on the display when we got here, so I thought you wanted to give it a try,” Gojo informed you, leading you to look at him once again in surprise before steadily taking the fork in hand to dig into the treat you were gifted with.

“Thank you,” you mentioned with gratitude before you slowly began to tuck into the meal leaving Gojo to look at you with a smile before changing his gaze towards the sweet treats that were displayed at you both right now before gleefully taking the strawberry shortcake as his first choice.

“Y/N...when the exchange event comes...don’t use your curse technique at all,” Gojo said in a serious tone leading you to look up at your teacher in confusion due to the unexpected change in atmosphere, before sighing since you thought it was common knowledge by now and there was no need for him to remind you.

“You don’t need to tell me that, I can tell that the Kyoto Principal is coming to be watching, right?” you rhetorically asked as you slightly tilted your head to the side, “you don’t have to worry about anything, I ain’t that stupid, besides...the Kyoto students from what I’ve seen are real drags,”

ꕥ

‘I swear I feel like using a curse spell right now’

At this current moment in time, you were in a somewhat difficult situation as you were rapidly zooming past the forest trees that were surrounding you while continuously avoided the arrows that were coming towards your way as some flew right past you while others struck the tree trucks that were somewhat protecting you from them, leaving you with the job to find an escape route since you were still trying to find clues of the mole that Gojo mentioned to you before the Exchange Event started as well as the second-grade curse that was needed to be exorcised to end the first day of the two-day event.

Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed Fushiguro running in the same direction as you as he needed to keep up with you to make sure that you were safe and there was a way to help you avoid attacking your opponent right now since that was a new rule implemented to keep the game fair. However, with the abandonment of the use of your curse technique, Fushiguro needed to make sure he could defend you and have your back right now.

Quickly, you turned your head back to face forwards to ensure that you didn’t bump into anything or tripped up anywhere since you still had no idea where you were heading right now. From what you could recall, the area that was mapped out to the event’s arena was quite vast and it was getting somewhat difficult for you to sense everyone’s cursed energy since they were all now scattered in different directions with different distances leading your sense on them to become disorganised around you causing some difficulty to sense the curse you needed to locate for.

During this train of thought, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice a few odd but small objects flowing through the air in front of both of you and him, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to slightly tense up since he wasn’t sure what they were but also knew he couldn’t act too careless right now since it could be a trap that was set by the Kyoto side. However, as you both continued to sprint forward, those same small objects gilded right past between both of you and Fushiguro causing him to able to identify what they were.

‘Flower petals?’ Fushiguro thought before noticing how a few more pink petals would flow between you and him causing the shikigami user to look at you in confusion (since it was summer meaning there was no way they were just in bloom) as a few more of them gracefully fluttered past you which lead Fushiguro to slowly remember something, yet it was blurry in his mind right now. However, before his mind could even process anything to clear up the blurry image, you swiftly raised your arm to unexpectedly grab a few of the pink petals causing him to snap out of his daze before you left him more perplexed about what you were planning.

��Gojo, what are you going to do?” Fushiguro questioned, as he slyly noticed how your grip on the petals began to tighten before a small smile graced itself upon your face.

“Right now, let’s just say I ain’t planning to follow the rules if he keeps attacking me!” you answered back in a loud tone causing the grade-two sorcerer to glance at you with widened eyes as he wanted to halt you from what you were organising to do. Although, it seemed like it was too late since your hand opened slowly to release the pink flower petals back into the air before you took hold of his sleeve to pull him further so you both can take a long distance away from the same petals right now.

Suddenly, another arrow appeared from the trees as it was making its way towards you both leading you to smirk slightly as you let out of your classmate’s sleeve to take a hold of your katana that was still within its wooden sheathe as you needed to prepare for what was about to commence.

As the arrow drew closer and closer to you and Fushiguro, it couldn’t help but slightly grazed its sharp metal tip on one of the rosy coloured petals causing a sudden large explosion to commence right above you and Fushiguro while the other petals began to follow due to the first explosion’s residue hitting them as well leading to a row of large explosions to employ to which caused Fushiguro to look at the scene in complete shock before noticing how you were beginning to casually unsheathe your katana from its metal hold.

“You see, if I follow the rules, there is no way of telling them to stay the hell away from me,” you muttered, as you spun around to face the opposite direction before fully swinging your sword sideways leading to a crescent wave of cursed energy to speedily manifest as it flew across the whole woods while somewhat clearing the fiery explosion that was already enough to keep Kamo in place for some time leading Fushiguro to inspect the destructive site in complete surprise since he had no idea that you were able to carry out such an attack. However, it seemed like there was no more time to admire your work as you gripped onto his school jacket’s sleeve, once again, as you had already turned back around to continue running to god knows where.

‘Maybe I went a little overboard…’

ꕥ

“What was that?” Nishimiya asked in slight fear, as she peered in the direction on where the unexpected explosions had occurred while noticing how some of the trees were suddenly on fire while others just seemed to be missing leading Kugisaki, Panda and Mechamaru (who were down below on the ground) to look towards the direction where they hear the destruction.

“Woah,” Kugisaki muttered in awe since she had a slight feeling that it was you, who caused the mass destruction just seconds ago.

“Well, it seems like we don’t have to worry about Gojo,” Panda mentioned to his lower classmate before he swiftly got back up on his feet to attack Mechamaru by launching a punch into the robot’s face causing Kugisaki to turn to him in shock since she thought he was still unconscious.

‘Yeah, I don’t have to ever worry about her’ Kugisaki thought confidently before turning towards her opponent with an annoyed look on her face.

ꕥ

“She can do that with flower petals?!” Utahime screamed in shock as she peered at the screen that was now just a pure full screen of static leading her to nearly drop her cup of tea, while Gojo looked at the same screen in slight surprise before he began to giggle while processing to remove his hands that were resting behind his head in amusement of what he had just witnessed from you.

“Awhhh so pretty~” Gojo commented as he clapped his hands like he was applauding you, leading Utahime to turn her gaze towards him in an irritated manner.

‘You love to keep surprising me, don’t you Y/N?’

“And that’s one bird down! Mei-san, is it possible to get another?” Gojo questioned as he peered back to his colleague causing her to giggle slightly as she opened her eyes again.

“Just who did you take in Gojo? You have a good eye if you decided to take her as your daughter, how much did you pay for her?” Mei replied, only for Gojo to look at her with a cheeky smile.

“Nothing, absolutely zero yen! I got her by pure chance, don’t tell me you’re planning to take her away from me, Mei-san?” Gojo jokingly commented back, before turning his sights on the Kyoto Principal, who seemed to be somewhat shocked at the current events that were transpiring on, but managed to maintain his composure leading to the strongest sorcerer to turn back to the other multitude of screens that were in front of him right now, like he was at the cinema watching an action movie.

‘The Kyoto student from what I’ve seen are real drags’

“That’s a bit harsh and violent from those said ‘drags’, don’t you think Y/N?” Gojo muttered under his breath as he waited for another crow to replace the one you had destroyed earlier.

‘At this rate, she won’t be able to track down the mole if Kamo is going to keep attacking her...oh well~ she’s a smart person, she’ll figure it out without even facing them’

679 notes · View notes

honey-sunsets · 3 years

Text

Dream SMP Stimming HCs because it’s wiggle time (/rp)

Tommy

He toe-walks. He is a Big Man and toe-walking makes him even bigger.

He repeats words that sound Good (“Baba” for example).

He hums and sings, though this one he really only does when he’s by himself or with people he trusts (so basically Tubbo and Ranboo).

He uses chewelry quite a lot. (Inspired by cc!Tommy saying “I have such active teeth” and other things involving mud that I can’t remember.)

He runs his hands through his hair, especially when he’s stressed or flustered.

He picks at his lips and the skin around his nails.

He also bites his nails.

Leg Bounce ™

Listening to music, of course.

He loves petting and hugging animals, including ones that really should not be pet or hug. He used to run his hands through Friend’s wool often.

He canonically sews!! So depending on his mood he might dive into a six-hour sewing extravaganza or he might just mindlessly string the same pattern for a while.

Tubbo

Tubbo makes random noises or modifies his voice (usually makes it higher pitched or more guttural). He likes to screw with his friends and freak them out with this one (like when cc!Tubbo uses autotune while talking to Ranboo).

He uses stim toys quite a lot. Rubik’s cubes, fidget cubes, tangles, something to keep his hands occupied. He makes a lot of his own toys from leftover building and redstone materials, and he makes toys for his friends as well.

He adjusts his tie as a stim. He picked this up during Manberg and it carried on until the end of his presidency. After he founded Snowchester and stopped wearing a tie, he continued the motion, but now he just grabs onto the collar of his shirt or jacket.

He sings as well, often bursting into song if he hears so much as a word or two from a song he knows.

He pokes/taps the tips of his horns.

He runs his fingers across his scars, since they have a different texture from the rest of his skin.

When he’s stressed or angry, he squeezes his hands into very tight fists and he grinds his teeth.

Ranboo

Ranboo already canonically stims!! Picking up, holding, and placing grass blocks is a common one. Pacing when he’s stressed and enderman noises are also ones we’ve seen. I can’t for the life of me think of any others but I know there’s more.

Raptor hands. I rest my case.

The little “bow bow bow” noises that cc!Ranboo makes when he listens to music.

He just loves listening to music. So much. All the time.

Petting his cats and listening to/feeling them purr. Major comfort for him.

Once again similar to his cc! counterpart, he’s very good with Rubik’s cubes. He once casually solved a dodecahedron in the middle of a Butcher Army meeting.

Ranboo to me seems like the kind of guy who likes “bigger” (more noticeable) stims but is afraid to do any of them.

For the sake of keeping these headcanons as wholesome as I can manage (and believe me, I’m struggling), I’ll say that he does eventually become more comfortable with his stims and he allows himself to do things that are more noticeable (which nobody minds, of course).

Jumping stim!! This can only be done outside or well below the ceiling because good lord he goes high.

Singing, and usually very loudly.

Shouting. Just. AHHHH.

Alivebur

He prefers auditory and visual stims to other types, though there are a couple exceptions.

Watching the sunrise and sunset becomes a favorite visual stim after his revival.

Sparks and small flames are very good as well.

He loves rubbing his thumb against the edges of book pages and flipping the pages quickly (I don’t know how to describe it but it’s a common thing a lot of folks do).

He changes accents at will. If he spends too much time around you your voice will be stolen.

You know that one time Wilbur cheered “yeah daddy Dream” in the middle of lore? The way he swung his arms when he did that? Yeah, that. That’s the stim.

Moving his fingers as though strumming an instrument, humming, singing, tapping, swaying to music, even moving his hands around like a conductor. Tons and tons of music-related stims.

Ghostbur

He likes physical stims much more than Alivebur does.

Raptor hands. Raptor hands my beloved.

Oversized sleeves with raptor hands.

Flappy hands with oversized sleeves with raptor hands.

Popcat stim. He seems like a popcat kind of dude.

Petting and hugging Friend.

Assuming blue is a liquid or powder, he likes rubbing blue between his hands and fingers. If you headcanon blue as being more like a putty, you could say he plays with it as such.

Wilbur’s love of music carries over through all of his iterations, so all the previously mentioned musical stims apply to Ghostbur as well.

Phil

Popcat!! Pop pop pop.

“My name is nugget, I’m a big fat chicken.”

Flapping and fluffing up his wings.

Petting the crows and giving them little head scritches.

Those “boosh boosh boosh” and “bap bap bap” sounds cc!Phil makes when he’s building.

Jack

He changes accents, though it’s often involuntarily. I like to imagine he’s in the middle of some really angsty argument but halfway through his voice gets stuck in a Scottish accent and he can’t fix it.

“What did she say?!” “What the dog doing?” “I don’t wanna slow dance, in the DARK—” “Boy what the hell boy.” …and other memes as vocal stims.

He also sings a bit, though not as often as others.

Niki

I guess it doesn’t necessarily count as a stim, but she totally stress bakes. And happy bakes too.

If she’s not actively baking, she likes watching baking compilations. Cake and cupcake and cookie decorating videos.

Other visual stims too! Calligraphy, soap cutting, and fuzzy animals are some of her favorites.

She isn’t able to, but she really wants to pet Steve. He looks very soft.

She’s gotten permission from Technoblade to enter his Hound Army’s kennel whenever she pleases and pet all of the dogs. They all love her very much and whine when she leaves.

Eret

They sketch random buildings and maps, or doodle on the margins of their proper designs.

Ferret chat!! Elongated fluffy things!! Soft bois!! Pet the soft bois!!

She listens to music all the time. Multiple “he can’t hear us he has AirPods in” jokes are made at her expense (which she always finds funny).

Ponk

Taste and smell stims! Lemon scented/flavored things are her favorite, but she also likes orange, peppermint, and cinnamon as well.

Weighted blankets his beloved.

“Nobody wanna see us together, but it don’t matter no, cuz I got you”

They love baking! They “taste test” and “check for poison” so much they have to make slightly larger recipes to compensate.

305 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 4 years

Note

AYE requests briefly open you say? Then here ya go: MC (female or gn) turns into a child for a day courtsey of Solomon (maybe around 5) with the Brothers. I think it'd be adorable, what with finger painting on spell books and things, but there ya go!

The MC is Now Five Years Old, Thanks Solomon...

Oh boy…. A little kid in Hell sounds like a train wreck admittedly, but at least they'll have some pretty strong guardians right? I heard It'll Be Okay by SMLE & Helen Tess and decided that was JUST the feel this sort of request needed.

Intro:

Solomon really doesn't mess up spells often. He's been doing this for a while (at least as far as my headcanon is concerned) so he's gotten pretty damn good at magic over the years. It takes a looot to make him mess up. Like say, a natural disaster, an unexpected surprise… or a whole-ass MC getting knocked into what sigil he's using at just the wrong time. Yeah. That'll do it.

How in the world is he going to explain this to the brothers…?

Lucifer

His anger toward Solomon is quite severe… tempered only slightly by how utterly adorable kid!MC is. (Well all know he's got that soft spot for cute things 🤭) It reminds him so much of his brothers at that age…

The man basically reverts back to being Dad!Lucifer sooo fast.

He's the one tying their shoes, checking on them throughout the day, making sure they're not running with scissors… that sort of thing.

Weirdly enough he's not that bothered by it… In fact, his brothers find it a little unnerving just how at peace he seems when he's keeping track of kid!MC doing this or that… It's like he's just put on an old pair of gloves and found out they still fit.

Speaking of his brothers, Lucifer can't turn off "Parent Mode" so it starts spilling over to them too...

When he started telling Levi "It's bedtime" and used a napkin to wipe Beel's face for him in public, they decided to hold an informal intervention. They're grown demons now, damnit!! 😖

Mammon

The first thing kid!MC did when they saw Mammon was fling themselves at him while screaming "MAMMIE!!!" at the top of their lungs… Regardless of his confusion, the man could probably die happy now.

He only gripes a little bit about being saddled with babysitting duty… Because everybody knows he's not the babysitter now. He's the playmate.

"Mammie, I wanna play House!!" "I ain't playing House with ya, kid. How 'bout Tag?" "No way, you're too fast!" "Hide'n Seek?" "Luci said we can't play that no more…" "Well don't hide in the oven again!" "You didn't find me!!" "That was the problem!!!"

Pretty much the Man-Child/Actual Child Duo. He's perfect for keeping up with them and they'll whine incessantly when they can't find him for too long...

Totally the brother to take them to the amusement park or really any of those super fun places kids love. He will be just as excited as they are to be there, too.

It's not uncommon to find Mammon passed out on a couch or something with an equally exhausted kid!MC sleeping on his back. The two can really wear each other out…

Leviathan

He's probably the least perturbed by this change. Sudden de-aging of characters is a pretty popular anime trope, after all...

He's not all that taken with kid!MC though to be honest… Largely because he's too worried about keeping his stuff out of their grubby mitts. 😖

"Levi, what's this?" "GAH! Don't touch that!! That's my limited edition Ultra☆Rainbow Witch figurine!!" "I wanna play with it, though!" "It's not a toy!!" "That's not fair! You have nothing but toys, Levi!! You need to share!!" "NO I DON'T!!!"

In those times where Lucifer forces him to share, Levi goes full neat-freak. He handles all the discs and games himself, everything gets practically sterilized, and kid!MC HAS to wash their hands before they touch ANYTHING (especially the game controllers). He ain't risking any random kid-gunk getting on his precious possessions… 😰

He does enjoy playing games with them well enough, at least. No one's going to pass up a game of Devil Kart after all!

Sometimes he'll let them win just to see how happy they get… Though, then they start getting a big head about it so he has to remind him who the actual gamer is with another string of losses... Sucks to suck, kid! 😌😏

Satan

… You know, five year-olds ask a lot of questions… A looot of questions…

"Satan, what's that?" "An umbrella. You use it so that rain doesn't get on you." "Where does rain come from?" "Evaporated water collects in the atmosphere and-" "Is rain like the sky peeing?" "...." "Satan? Does your face hurt?... Satan?"

Please Lord, they may not be on speaking terms, but someone has to have mercy on his patience...

In truth, Satan's kind of charmed by how curious kid!MC is, he just wished they'd listen more to his boring explanations…

"Satan? Why does everyone listen to Diavolo?" "Lord Diavolo is like a king to us demons." "Where's his crown?" "He doesn't wear a crown." "Oh… You don't wear a crown and people listen to you. Are you a king too?" "I mean, you're not wrong… 😏" "Satan, get back to work."

Eh, maybe having a little MC isn't all that bad. They don't lie, after all. 😌

Asmodeus

OMG he hasn't seen a child this cute since the twins were in diapers!!!!

If Mammon isn't around then Asmo takes over babysitting duties (like an actual babysitter) and he's more than happy to do it. It reminds of him of taking care of baby Belphie!

If kid!MC has any interest at all in makeup then he's happy to foster it. He won't give them the good stuff of course, but he'll show them how to do blush, eyes, lipstick, nail polish, whatever!

He also dabbles in a bit of facepaint so do they want to look like a kitty, panda, or dragon? He's got them covered.

Asmo just likes to let them be creative in all forms, really. He's going to be the one to break out the paint and markers and just the kid!MC go to town! (hopefully not on the walls…)

Takes pictures of whatever they draw, good or bad, and happily displays them to everyone. There's not a big enough fridge to hold all the art he's going to collect (and zealously protect).

Beelzebub

Playmate #2 right after Mammon, but he's the less excitable, more responsible one.

"Beel! Beel! Watch me jump off this slide!!" 😰 "Please don't… You could hurt yourself… You slide down slides. That's why they're called that." "*GASP*... That's right! You're a genius!!" *sits back down* "Not really, but thank you." 😊 *waits for them at the bottom*

If the MC is with Beel, they're doing one of two things. Either they're playing together or gorging themselves on junk food.

Beel actually likes "domestic" games like House and Tea Party because it's an excuse to raid the kitchen. He'll play "house-husband" all day as long as he gets to actually eat at every imaginary dinnertime.

He'll play active games too, of course. Especially action-oriented ones like "Cops and Robbers" or Superheros. No one's better at roughhousing than Beel! Though he'll go easy on them, cause they're small and all… 😅

Everyone can always tell when Beel's in charge of them because he carries them around on his shoulders. He's the tallest one of the family so it's like getting to be a giant!

Belphegor

Belphie was introduced to kid!MC when they started crying during one of his naps. They couldn't wake him and they thought he was dead… Followed directly by them declaring their tears were magic when they noticed his eyes opened.

He proceeded to close his eyes again and purposely play dead just to get them all worried again. It was the smile creeping up onto his face that eventually gave him away… 😏

He likes to play with kid!MC and Beel but he's not going to let it get in the way of his nap schedule or anything. When they play "Knights" he gets to take the role of the world's laziest dragon… Rawr.

Kid!MC will only settle down for naptime if Belphie joins too since he'll read them a book like he used to do with Lilith.

Satan's usually the go-to guy for storytime, but Belphie's a close second (largely because he just imitates what he remembers Lucifer doing for him, voices and all 🤭).

He deals with their myriad of questions by just making shit up and pretending he knows what he's talking about. It's around the time that he told them that little men live inside the freezer and shave ice cubes to keep things cold that Lucifer started getting on his case about it… Killjoy. 🙄

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios

3K notes · View notes

erin-bo-berin · 4 years

Text

Prove It

MASTERLIST

This was an anon request of Spencer getting mad at being teased and being motivated enough to prove he’s not vanilla. This took forever from the time it was first requested for me to write and post it, so I’m so sorry to the anon who requested it. It feels like it’s been FOREVER since I’ve posted a smut too, so enjoy some smutty Spencer to start your week. Happy reading!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut, rough sex)

Word Count: 4,246

“I will never understand it.”

“Understand what?” you asked.

You sat down in one of the chairs in the jet, across from coworker and teammate Derek Morgan.

You and the team you were a part of, the Behavioral Analysis Unit—BAU for short—of the FBI had just solved another case and were on the way home.

You’d seen plenty of sickos before, so another one didn’t seem to surprise you. Of course, it was disgusting and aggravating, horrifying and awful, but you never pretended to understand unsubs in the first place. So you were quite curious about what Morgan was thinking out loud about.

Spencer Reid plopped down in the chair next to you with his cup of coffee.

How the man managed to live off coffee and actually go to sleep was a mystery to you. At this point it would benefit him to just have his coffee injected into him through IV, that’s how much he consumed.

“This S&M stuff,” Morgan waved his hand, “It’s insane.”

The case they’d just recently closed had involved a guy who had taken his violent sexual desires a step too far and found himself turned on by actually murdering women. Whether it was by choking or gagging, somehow he’d discovered he got a sexual release from killing his female partners.

What started as auto erotic asphyxiation—something that was incredibly dangerous to begin with—had turned to something more sinister and even more deadly.

“When done right, it’s actually not as bad as some of these unsubs make us believe,” Spencer said.

“I’m sure you know all about it, don’t you kid?” Morgan replied, sarcastically.

“Anyway,” he continued, before Spencer could cut in again, “I’m not judging people who do it, it just seems like even when it’s done right, it’s too dangerous to even be exciting. It’d be a mood killer for me.”

“Oh don’t tell me you don’t bring out your dominant side every once and awhile,” you smirked, teasing him.

“Hey, I’m all for some good rough sex. I’m not as vanilla as pretty boy here, but I’m not about to emotionally and physically scar Savannah.”

“Hey! What’s that’s supposed to mean?!” Spencer protested.

Savannah was Morgan’s wife, now of three years. They had a son together, Hank. Being a parent according to Morgan, you didn’t get much “mommy and daddy time”, but even then, it didn’t stop him from shamelessly sharing details about his sex life. You got used to it; it was just a Derek thing anyway.

“Sure, I’ve done some tying up and spanking, but that’s mild compared to some practices in BDSM. I once asked Reid about it and unfortunately learned more than I ever wanted to about it.”

“Excuse me,” Spencer broke in, “What’s the vanilla remark supposed to mean?”

Both yours and Derek’s heads turned to see Spencer’s brows furrowed.

“Kid, vanilla ice cream is spicier than you,” Morgan teased.

“Oh come on, that’s not true!” Spencer retorted, exasperated.

“I’m sorry Reid, I just can’t imagine you being kinky. I mean do you just spout facts during sex or what?”

You held back a snicker although you heard the rest of the team chuckling.

“No, I don’t,” Spencer flushed.

You averted your eyes from his gaze.

You and Spencer had been dating for a little while, the team none the wiser to your relationship. You couldn’t quite defend him without giving it away.

It wasn’t really a secret per se, you just mutually decided not to say anything until it became more serious. You had only slept together a few times anyway, so it wasn’t like you were familiar with his sexual proclivities.

“You’re more vanilla than Vanilla Ice,” Morgan joked, making you choke on your sip of water, laughing.

“How would you know anyway?” Spencer crossed his arms, his face now a deep red, “I could be kinkier than you know.”

“Dude, when’s the last time you even slept with a girl?” Morgan asked with a raised brow, “Wasn’t it that bartender Austin from a case 11 years ago?”

Spencer pressed his lips together tightly. He wasn’t going to say anything and you knew it because it would give away yours and his personal business.

“That’s what I thought. Vanilla,” Derek laughed, standing to refill his tumbler with more whiskey, “Don’t worry Pretty Ricky, not everyone has to be an animal in bed.”

He patted Spencer’s shoulder as he walked by to head to the back of the jet—and the whiskey decanter.

You could tell by Spencer’s pursed lips that he was annoyed.

You promised yourself that when the jet landed, you would apologize.

•

You had been wrong.

Spencer wasn’t annoyed.

He was pissed.

“Spencer, I’m sorry,” you repeated for the hundredth time.

Once the jet had landed, everyone went their separate ways, so no one was the wiser when you’d climbed into Spencer’s car. You had spent more time at his place lately than your own, so you were heading back to his apartment with him.

The entire drive was filled with tense silence. His jaw stayed clenched all the way home.

“Spence, please talk to me. If I hurt your feelings, that wasn’t my intention.”

You followed him into his apartment, watching as he sat down his go bag and satchel by the door. You sat your own things near his, as well.

You didn’t miss how tense he was, indicating his anger.

“Spence-” you began, but got cut off by his sharp tone.

“Go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed,” he snapped.

You were taken back, unsure if you’d heard him right the first time.

“What?”

“I said, go into the bedroom, take off all your clothes and get on the bed. I won’t repeat myself. And don’t make me do it myself cause you will regret it.”

You stood frozen in place for a second, your mouth opening and closing. By the look on his face, you could tell he was serious.

“O-Okay,” you stammered, walking backwards to the bedroom.

You had no idea what he had planned, but deep down, you could feel the tingle of excitement beginning to work its way to the surface. Maybe some rough sex would ease his anger.

You were out of your shirt and pants before you reached the bed. You pulled off your bra, letting it fall from your fingertips and then rid your underwear before climbing onto the bed like you were asked to do, laying back.

It was at least a good ten minutes before Spencer came into the room, with something in each hand.

“What’s that?”

He didn’t answer you.

He sat what appeared to be a glass of ice on the nightstand and grabbed one of your wrists, starting to tie it to the bedpost with what you now realized was one of his ties.

You watched as he tied the opposite one before you spoke.

“Spence, I-”

“Quiet. I don’t want to hear another word from you unless I say to speak,” he growled, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you.

His face lingered above yours, his lips not far from your own. He didn’t kiss you yet, but you could feel his warm breath fanning over your face, the anticipation of his lips finally being on yours making you anxious.

His nose nudged yours gently as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lidded, although they occasionally flicked up toward yours. He knew how much you wanted him to kiss you and he was using that to his advantage.

Finally, it came, feather light. It was like kissing a cloud, the faint touch not nearly enough to satiate your needs. You tried to lean upwards to meet his lips again, taking what you wanted, what you needed, but he pulled out of your reach, a wicked smirk on his face.

“Oh so this is how it’s going to be?” you mock pouted.

“My bed, my rules,” he answered.

The anticipation of this kiss made your heart race and your breath hitch. If he was willing enough to deprive you this easily and this early on, what else was he capable of?

When his lips finally met yours, it was in a surprisingly gentle manner, considering you were currently tied to his bedposts. His mouth glided along with yours, the intensity picking up rather quickly.

His hunger and anger seemed to meld into one as he kissed you roughly, pulling back enough to capture your lower lip between his, his teeth softly scraping over it. A small, satisfied sigh emitted from you, against his lips.

Your mouth parted as you continued to enjoy the feel of his mouth on yours, his tongue being both graceful and teasing at the same time, it moving swiftly over your bottom lip.

You were already struggling with your restraints, wanting to touch him as he kissed you. Normally, your touch was everywhere on him when you kissed. From his face to his shoulders and chest and in his curls, you ravished being able to touch him. But you didn’t have that luxury right now and it was absolutely killing you.

He pulled away, lips hovering over your jaw as he kissed it just slightly, ready to move on to other areas.

“By the time I’m done with you, you’ll have more than enough proof that I’m anything but vanilla,” he whispered huskily, placing a kiss against your throat.

Your thighs clamped inadvertently as you suddenly became even more turned on than you had been previously. He reached over you, towards the ice, grabbing a cube.

You watched him intently, gasping sharply when the shock of cold touched your skin, just along your collarbone.

“You gonna be a good girl and do what I say?” he asked, sliding the ice cube along your chest.

You nodded eagerly, biting down on your lip as he moved the ice over the swell of your breast and across your nipple making them tighten, both from the cold and your arousal. His lips followed the trail of ice over your breasts, tongue moving out to encircle your nipple and flick it. He repeated it on the opposite side and you gave a moan of approval at his explorations.

A trail of water was left behind on your skin as he continued on, gliding the ice down the middle of your chest towards your stomach. You felt goosebumps prickle your skin at the continuous icy cold sensation.

“You’re so hot, you’re making the ice melt quickly,” he purred.

His touch left you as he reached back towards the nightstand to grab another cube. Apparently he’d been right, as the first cube had melted completely.

Once the coolness touched your skin again you found yourself gasping. As tantalizing as this teasing was, you were extremely turned on by it. You could feel the heat within your body, your core already starting to pulsate with arousal.

“I really hate that I can’t touch you,” you groaned, tugging on your restraints.

“But that’s what makes it fun, sweetheart,” he grinned, placing a kiss on your stomach.

The ice cube moved down one of your sides, over your hip, where he gave it a playful squeeze. Then the cold hit the top of your thighs, his other hand gliding to the top of the opposite one.

You were desperate at the point and automatically widened the space between your legs. If anything, you were going to let him get a good view of just how wet you were.

His eyes flickered downwards then back up towards your face, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You squirmed, anxious for him to do anything.

“Problem, love?” he cooed.

You glared, arching your hips in an attempt to get some sort of contact.

He chuckled, spreading your legs further. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the ice moving over your outer lips definitely wasn’t it.

You hissed at the sudden cold, but you didn’t hate it at all. Not like you hated these fucking restraints. You cursed when he pressed it against your clit.

“Fuck, that feels good,” you moaned.

He hummed, looking up at you through his lashes. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back against the pillow, tugging at your bound wrists again.

You wanted to push his head or his hands to your throbbing core; maybe both at this rate.

“Spencer, please,” you whimpered.

“Okay,” he relented, sitting back on his heels, “You’ve been a good girl so far.”

He reached over you, pulling the knotted ties loose from around your wrists. It was like sweet freedom to you.

Before you could even touch him, he’d taken a hold of you, rolling you over so you were straddling his stomach.

“Ooh, I’m in control? I like,” you grinned, leaning down to kiss him.

You didn’t quite make it to his lips.

“Think again.”

He grabbed the back of your thighs, roughly pulling you up to sit on his face. This, you hadn’t suspected.

“Oh god,” you moaned lowly as his tongue slid up your outer lips.

His hands held your thighs tightly and he wasted no time diving right in. His tongue flicked your clit and you had to grab a hold of the headboard just to make sure you didn’t collapse on top of him.

Of course oral sex had been a part of your sex life with Spencer prior to this, but never in this way. He was usually more timid about it. But right now, he went for it in a very enthusiastic manner.

“Fuck, Spence.”

You groaned, his lips circling your clit to suck on it briefly before releasing it with a tiny pop of his mouth. His tongue flicked over it again, alternating in speed and pressure.

You had thought it couldn’t get any better until you felt a finger slide into you. You could’ve sworn you almost lost your mind at that point. His finger slowly pumped in and out of you, matching the now slower speed of his tongue that seemed to be licking everywhere but your clit.

“Dammit Spencer,” you groaned, slightly grinding against his mouth for some friction.

You jerked a bit, a surprised squeal coming from you when his hand came down on your ass. It wasn’t a bad reaction though, it had just excited you even more.

“Did you just spank me?!” you asked incredulously.

He hummed, sending a delicious vibration against your clit as his hand came down again on your ass making you moan loudly.

You had no idea there was this side to him.

“Fuck, Spencer, yes baby,” you whined, your hips moving back and forth over his face as his fingers and tongue drove you crazy.

The faster his fingers went, the harder his tongue moved. You were gripping the headboard so tight, your knuckles were white.

“Ah!” you squealed, at an additional spank.

It wasn’t hard enough to be too rough and painful, just hard enough to be incredibly sexy, sending a charge directly to your currently, extremely stimulated clit.

It was also incredibly appealing to you to feel the slight scratch of his facial hair against your nether regions as he ravished you.

You could feel your entire body tensing, preparing for the rush of adrenaline and ecstasy. Apparently, Spencer could too.

He worked you until you came shattering apart above him. His name mixed with a loud moan and curses sprinkled in.

When the high had ebbed a bit, he moved you back to sit on his stomach, a wolfish grin on his face. You still felt a bit dazed since there was still a bit of buzz left tingling within you.

You noticed then that your boyfriend was way overdressed.

“It’s time to do something about these,” you mumbled, unbuttoning his dress shirt, “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

He allowed you to pull his shirt off, but his hand grabbed yours just as they reached for his belt.

“I am going to fuck you bent over my desk and only bent over my desk.”

He gave you no time to react as he’d already lifted you in his arms and stood from the bed, heading to the living room.

“Spencer, what? I-”

The words died on your lips as he entered the living room and his desk came into view. Normally, it was stacked neatly with his books, files, paperwork that he needed to complete, pens, pencils, a couple of coffee mugs, the works. But now, it was completely clear, showing off its deep, dark brown, glossy desktop.

Heat pooled in your stomach when you realized he’d planned ahead for this. He’d imagined bending you over his desk, having his way with you. You swallowed back a moan, already eager for him to be buried inside of you.

Instead of immediately pushing you over the edge of the desk, he sat you on top of it, facing him.

You bit your lip, quite literally looking up through your lashes at him. His tongue moved over his lips, his hunger for you apparent as his hands traced every inch of you.

From your breasts, down your stomach, to your thighs and around towards your bottom, squeezing it gently, his hands traveled every part of you before capturing your mouth in another kiss.

It was no innocent kiss. It was fiery and filled with the mutual hunger for one another. He was still kissing you when he slid you off the desktop, your feet touching the floor once again.

He turned you and had you bent over the edge of his desk in a matter of seconds. You heard the clink and whir of his belt as he unbuckled it, the sound alone sending a charge through you.

You shifted impatiently, much to his notice. He smirked, running a hand between your legs teasingly, as he pushed his suit pants out of the way with the other hand.

He wasted no time on gentle and loving movements. He entered you roughly and quite honestly, when you weren’t expecting it.

You whimpered. The feeling of your most intimate parts stretching just enough to accommodate him was one of the best feelings in the world to you.

By this point, you’d lost the ability to be quiet. He’d already brought you to one earth shattering orgasm and that was after the tantalizing ice foreplay that had turned you on beyond belief.

Your constant moans filled the room as your hands gripped the edges of the desk.

Your hips were tight in his grip as he thrust into you fast and hard, your own body bouncing off his in the opposite direction. He, for one, was much louder than he normally was. Grunts, groans, mumbled curses and pants came from behind you as he had his way with you.

His lips hovered over your neck, his appraising moans ringing in your ears.

“Fucking shit, fuuuck, Y/N,” he groaned before attaching his lips to your neck.

He sucked harshly, hard enough to know that hickies would be present for the next few days.

You inhaled sharply, feeling the slight sting of his teeth bearing down into your shoulder, but coupled with your current pleasure, it was actually hot.

Your back arched as he focused on what he’d learned—quite quickly, you might add—was one of your absolute sweet spots, his hips aiding in thrusting deeply within you.

Spencer’s hand snaked up your spine, tangling in your hair, his fingers wrapping around a few strands. It surprised you when he pulled on it, firm enough to pull your head to the side. You moaned at the sensation, ready for him to do anything at this point. You were so turned on, you were a moaning, whimpering mess underneath him.

“Still. Think. I’m. Vanilla?”

Each of his words were clipped, growled into your ear and enunciated with a forceful thrust.

“No,” you rasped, quickly losing control of yourself and becoming delirious from the ecstasy he was providing you with.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he grunted, halting his movements completely.

You about sobbed in agony, wanting the feel of him back. Your hips automatically moved backwards to get some more friction, but Spencer held them still.

“Tell me,” he groaned, the slight strain in his voice indicating he was struggling with keeping still, himself.

You cursed, craving the delicious sensation of him deep within you again especially since you were on the brink of shattering like broken glass.

“Who’s not vanilla?” Spencer taunted.

He began moving once again, his motions slow and teasing. He slid in and out of you with long, lackadaisical thrusts although he made sure each move was deep enough so you could feel every inch of him within you.

“Dammit Spencer, please,” you mewled, encircling your hips in small movements.

His low groan that came from above you was telling enough that he was trying and failing to keep his cool.

“Answer me,” he murmured huskily, his lips traveling up your back, hands reaching forward to massage your breasts in his hands.

“Answer me,” he repeated, “And I’ll fuck you like you deserved to be fucked.”

Your mouth dropped, a haggard moan escaping your throat. You weren’t used to hearing Spencer dirty talk and you’d realized that you instantly loved it.

His facial hair scratched your cheek as his mouth moved in the vicinity of it, sucking on your jaw.

“Be a good girl and answer me and I promise I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see stars, baby girl,” his low whisper came, one hand gliding between your legs, finger ghosting your clit.

“I’ll make you cum harder than you even imagined. Until you’re dripping all over my cock. I wanna fuck my girl, good, Spencer purred.

“Oh my god,” you cried, the overstimulation of his words and his touch finally getting you to lose absolute control of your conscious mind.

“You, Spencer, you,” you moaned.

The only sounds that filled his living room were the mixed moans and the sound of your bodies moving together as he fulfilled his promise and resumed his earlier pace though more erratic this time.

Your inadvertent clenching around him with every move was making him lose control quickly.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” you whined, clenching the edges of the desk so hard you knew your hands would be sore later.

In the back of your mind, a small part of you registered that you most likely sounded akin to a pornstar right now, though you didn’t spend much time on the thought. The fire in your veins was igniting the growing pressure in your stomach, like a furnace growing too hot.

It took less than a few moves before you went tumbling over the cliff of ecstasy. Your eyes screwed shut, your vision going completely white behind your closed eyes as you managed out a satisfied, bliss filled cry.

It was like lightning had struck your body except the electricity had come straight from the pit of your belly. Spencer had been right, it was the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced.

It was the body shaking, breathtaking, best kind of high ever, type of intense.

His own had soon followed as you’d tumbled down the rabbit hole of your own delirium. His hands gripped your sides and his body shuddered behind yours.

“Y/N, Y/N,” he groaned repeatedly, still moving with you, wringing every last drop of pleasure out of both of your orgasms.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as you arched back into him, reaching behind him to grip his hair as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

It took a few moments before both of you stilled, your breathing hard, heart beating wildly.

When your senses had somewhat turned to normal and the rushing of your blood in your ears had calmed down, you noticed your legs shaking—a definite sign of a good fucking.

You felt his breath on your neck, his breathlessness matching your own. Your body felt slick against his from all of the exertion, but it had been totally worth it.

Spencer pushed your hair to one side of your neck, burying his face into your neck sweetly before leaving a gentle kiss there.

“My god, Spencer,” you half laughed, trying to focus the tiny bit of energy you had left on attempting to stand.

Disconnecting himself from you, he turned you to face him. He lifted you back on to the desktop to sit, not caring that your thighs were currently slick with the product of his own orgasm. Your quivering legs were thankful for the momentary reprieve though.

“I know,” he smirked, “Didn’t know I had it in me, huh?”

“Definitely not,” you smirked, lifting your face up towards his.

Your lips met his lazily. You spent a few minutes enjoying one other, mouths parting and meeting over and over, enjoying the post coital consequential kisses before getting cleaned up.

His hands splayed over the tops of your thighs, stroking gently. He may have been rough with you earlier, but you knew his gentle touch was him wordlessly assuring himself you were okay.

You were actually more than okay—you had definitely been well fucked.

“Spencer?” you mumbled against his lips.

“Hmm?”

He pulled away from you, his eyes opening, his dreamy, currently hazy, hazel eyes meeting yours.

“Remind me to never listen to Morgan ever again.”

TAG LIST: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @iamburdened @cindywayne @sundippedprincess @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @teamkiall @redbullchick @ifeelloved @one-sweet-gubler @nanocoool @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @unsteadyimagines @ughitsbaby @inkwiet @pennythetechgoddess @capt-engr-ssa @sixx-sic-sixx @spencersdolore @alvezstan @disney-dreams-world @chocolatecalzoneherringbonk @mggwhore @andiebeaword @cupcake525 @be-the-bravest @gretaamyk @hopebaker @prisonreid @httpnxtt @daviddoughboy @pastathighs @marvels-gurl @blushingspencer @simp-for-mgg @victorzsaszmydaddy @inlovewithamess @im-inlovewith-mycar @xshakesqueerx @queenofmischief @mattgraygubler @gracelovesyouu @itsarayofsunshine @alexisparmentier @la-vie-en-amour1 @pinkdiamond1016 @itsmytimetoodream @saintd0lce @cherryxblossoms @jessaminelovelace @rainsong01 @zhangyixingxing1 @futuremrsspencerreid @slutforthegubes @purple-scarf-mistress

#spencer reid #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid gifs #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid gif #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid smut #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds gif #criminal minds smut #Dr Reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

3K notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 3 years

Note

hi!! do you have any good insecure/low self esteem Sherlock fics? thank you!

Hi Nonny!

AHHHH I’ve too many to count; I did a list back in 2019 that combined the both of them, but I get asked so often for one or the other that I think it’s time to make separate lists, and to do that requires me to re-tag a tonne of fics, so for now, I will give you all the ones I have tagged; I apologize if I’ve missed any, but I’m going through them slowly <3 Enjoy!!

INSECURE / AWKWARD SHERLOCK Pt. 2

See also: Insecure / Awkward John or Sherlock (Jan 2019)

The Four Incidents by TheGirlWithRedHair22 (K+, 1,064 w., 1 Ch. || S1 Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, John Whump, Accident, John POV, Hand Holding, Worried Sherlock, Sherlock’s Self Esteem) – The first time John was present when someone insulted Sherlock, he brushed it off as a strange coincidence.

Together is What we Have, Together Protects Us by Phantom of the Black Pearl (K+, 1,566 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Platonic or Slash, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Sherlock, Worried Sherlock, Slice of Life) – After a case one evening in the flat Sherlock voices a concern that causes the pair to consider why they've chosen to stick together after all that's happened.

Like Euphoria and Scotch by FinAmour (M, 1,856 w., 1 Ch. || Five and One, Alcohol / Drinking, POV Second Person Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Imagination, Armchair Sex, Fluff, Happy Ending) – 5 different ways it all could have gone + the one way it actually works itself out.

Five Times Sherlock gave John a Pebble and One Time John Returned the Gesture by grimmfairy (NR, 1,895 w., 1 Ch. || Love Confessions, Fluff, Penguins and Pebbles, Nervous / Pining Sherlock, Oblivious John) – Sherlock isn't good with words, so he decides to tell John his feelings the way penguins do, by bringing him pebbles with different meanings. John catches on.

The Imminent Danger of a Tumblr-Night by Loveismyrevolution (T, 2,135 w., 1 Ch. || Tumblr Fics, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock is Out of His Depth, Humour, Fluff, Pining Sherlock, Military Kink, POV Sherlock) – Sherlock gets into trouble when he pretends to know all about John's favourite social media site - tumblr. To save face he seeks help from one of the bloggers and gains more answers than he had aimed for.

Work On Your Balance by speculate (K+, 2,448 w., 1 Ch. || Embarrassed Sherlock, “For A Case”, Skating, Fluff, Friendship, Humour) – In which John is actually pretty good at ice skating, Sherlock's not and insists it's all for a case , and Lestrade is pretty amused by it all.

The Many Faces of Concern by sdrawkcabemdaer5 (K+, 2,473 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Angsty Fluff, John Whump, Mildly Clueless Sherlock) – John is injured on a case, leading to some surprising reactions and discoveries about their friendship.

Nothing Left Untouched by ForeverShippingJohnlock (K+, 2,617 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Romance, Bed Sharing, Oblivious Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Grumpy John, Fluff and Cuddles) – Sherlock rearranges the flat. So what if John's bedroom is now a research library. It's not like John needs a bedroom, he can share with Sherlock. They're friends and John has obviously slept in close quarters with men before and it's not like Sherlock sleeps much anyway. It'll be fine.

Closeted by Sexxica (E, 2,762 w., 1 Ch. || Trapped in a Closet, Panicking Sherlock, Hand Jobs, Coming in Pants, Awkward Conversations, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluffy Ending) – An improvised hiding spot and a bit of accidental voyeurism leave John and Sherlock in an awkward position.

Reversed by whitchry9 (K+, 3,072 w., 6 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Medical Anomalies, John Gets Shot) – The man pointed his gun at John's chest, right at his heart, and shot.' Wherein John is shot, and Sherlock is the one panicking.

Study in Sherlock by chappysmom (K+, 3,790 w., 1 Ch. || ASiP, Friendship, Introspection, Anxious Sherlock, POV Sherlock, Caring Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock) – Sherlock's thoughts and feelings during A Study in Pink. What DID he think of John, and why was he being so NICE?

Date Night by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 4,451 w., 1 Ch. || Anxious / Worried Sherlock, Caring John, Schmoopy Fluff, Fidget Cube, Baking / Cooking, Date Night, Established Relationship, POV Sherlock Holmes, Understanding John, Grumpy Sherlock, John’s Bum, Kisses, Hugs, Domestic Fluff, Touching, Hair Petting, Light Humour) – It's John and Sherlock's first Date Night as an official couple and Sherlock needs it to be PERFECT. Mrs Hudson helps. Part 7 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex/Hand Job/Frottage) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

Applied Linguistics by what_alchemy (M, 4,837 w., 1 Ch. || Possessive / Anxious Sherlock, Introspection, Bed Sharing, Past John Whump, Est. Rel., Marriage Proposal, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Word Play) – “He wants to shake John by the shoulders, wants to open his mouth and swallow John whole. Wants to marry him.” Sherlock searches for the right words.

Sleeping next to you by Salambo06 (E, 5,018 w, 2 Ch. || ASiB Fic, Bed Sharing, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Rimming, Anal, First Kiss/Time, POV Sherlock) – Based on an Anonymous Prompt: "So, that scene from ASiB when Mrs H has been attacked by the American CIA guy & John, Sherlock & she are in Mrs H's kitchen when John says "She’ll have to sleep upstairs in our flat tonight. We need to look after her." to which Sherlock replies with "no". John of course suggested that because he cares about her safety, but maybe he also did it cause he /wanted/ that to happen. What if they finally agreed on letting her have John's or Sherlock's bed & J&S sleep in the same one?" Part 12 of Tumblr Collection

Nothing So Sweet by alexxphoenix42 (E, 5,275 w., 1 Ch. || Shopkeeper AU || Beekeeping, Sussex, Alternate First Meeting, Awkward First Time Sex, Self-Consciousness / Body Insecurity, Fluff, Hand Jobs) – In an alternate universe, Sherlock is busy keeping to himself, tending his bees, and selling lovely jars of honey when a soldier limps into his life quite unexpectedly. Part 1 of The Sweetest Things

My First, My Only, and My Forever by vintagelilacs (E, 6,220 w., 1 Ch. || Post-ASiB, Virgin Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock’s Bum, John’s Scar, Sherlock POV, Body Worship, Fingering, Bottomlock, Promise of Forever / Proposals, Misunderstanding, First Kiss/Time, Loss of Virginity, Virginity Kink, Seduction) – Sherlock narrowed his eyes. He was missing a vital piece of data, he was sure. John had been looking at him oddly ever since they left Buckingham Palace, and the ensuing incident with Irene Adler had only exacerbated his erratic behaviour. What was it? Why would he care that Sherlock was a virgin? There was nothing reminiscent of mockery or pity in his gaze. And then it hit him. John Watson was aroused.

Time on my hands by Mildredandbobbin (M, 7,179 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S3, One Night Stands, Mutual Pining, Virgin Sherlock, First Time, Sexual Exploration / Discovery, Desperation, Body Worship) – Virginity’s a construct, a concept—what does losing one’s virginity entail for a gay man anyway? Sherlock wants to fill that particular gap in his knowledge but John won’t, can’t, never will assist and there’s only so much desperately unspoken pining even Sherlock can take.

The Very Unlikely Existence of a Flightless Bird in a Tuxedo by cwb (E, 8,829 w., 1 Ch. || Poetry, Penguins / Animals / Zoos, First Kiss / Time, Blow / Hand Jobs, Sleepy Cuddles, Endearments, Friendship / Love, Adorable / Sleepy Sherlock, Case Fic, Sherlock Can’t Say Penguin) – A case at the zoo reveals something John finds cute about Sherlock. A conversation ensues, and so does happy endings.

Always the sun by Rose de Sharon (K+, 12,377 w., 3 Ch. || Song Fic, Alternate Post-TGG, Friendship/Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection / Reflection, Injury Recovery, Obsessive / Protective Sherlock, Nightmares, John’s Past, Bed Sharing / Cuddles) – Sherlock ponders about how much his life has changed since John has become his flatmate.

Understanding by rizandace (T, 13,268 w., 15 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Worried Sherlock, John Whump Then Sherlock Whump) – Sherlock's hiding something about his newest case, and John wants answers. Set post-TGG. Friendship fic, mostly, with brief entrances from Harry and Lestrade just for fun.

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss, Insecure John, Pining John, Hug, Greg Finds Out) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

Pattern Behaviour by SilentAuror (E, 14,835 w., 1 Ch. || POV First Person Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Introspection, Stroppy Sherlock, Light Humour, Friendship, John Takes Care of Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Wall Kisses, Fluffy Angst, Happy Ending) – Sherlock doesn't even know why he resents John's dates so much. Until the day he does know. Slight angst, unrequited feelings (but don't let that scare you off!)

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

Hope for Heroes by Richefic (K+, 16,887 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TGG Fic, Introspection / Flashbacks, Friendship/Epic Bromance, Hurt/Comfort, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Sherlock Admires John, BAMF John, John Deduces, Fancy Party, John’s Self Esteem, Domestics) – In the final moments of "The Great Game" Holmes hopes he will have the chance to tell his flatmate that he was wrong. Heroes do exist after all and the one in front of him is called Dr John Watson.

Between Friends by SilentAuror (E, 18,036 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3, Alternating POV, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Abduction, Awkward Situations / Miscommunications, Porn With Feels, Blowjobs, Pining, Unrequited, Angst With Happy Ending) – Sherlock gets abducted. As John discovers him tied up naked in an empty storage facility and comes to rescue him, Sherlock's body has an unfortunate reaction which triggers a series of events. John is convinced that everything will be fine as long as they never discuss it. Sherlock isn't as sure...

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

A Quiet Life by DiscordantWords (M, 25,176 w., 6 Ch. || Post S4, Retirement, POV Sherlock, Awkwardness, Established Relationship, Family Dynamics, Minor Character Death, Questionable Parenting Choices, Non-Linear Narrative, 20 Year Old Rosie, Meddling Mycroft, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Angst, Sherlock Whump) – There had been three days of silence and a funeral. Sherlock had the terrible feeling that whatever happened next would depend, entirely, on him.

Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror (E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all.

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

carrying up his morning tea by darcylindbergh (E, 34,504 w., 5 Ch. || Post S3, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Wakes/Funerals, Estranged John, Pining Sherlock, Depression/Insecurity, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain/Injury, Reconciliation, Awkwardness, Loneliness, Scars, Angst With Happy Ending) – His fingers tremble as he dials and he can’t force them steady. Familiar number, even though he hasn’t used it in two years. He isn’t even sure he should be calling it now, but she’d asked. She’d made him promise.

Nothing to Make a Song About by emmagrant01 (E, 36,833 w., 10 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Time, Reunion, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, Sherlock Has a Boyfriend) – When Sherlock returned from his faked death, John could not forgive him for the deception and broke off their friendship. Ten years later, John returns to London in search of yet another new beginning. Sherlock, not surprisingly, is waiting.

The Unfinished Letters by SilentAuror (E, 37,391 w., 1 Ch. || Post S3 / S3 / HLV Fix it, Angst with Happy Ending, Romance, Infidelity, Depression, Case Fic, POV Third Person Sherlock, Love Confessions, Pining Sherlock, Letters) – A fire at Baker Street leads John to read something he was never intended to see: a notebook of half-written, unfinished letters Sherlock wrote during his time away...

(Never) Turn Your Back to the Sea by DiscordantWords (M, 39,968 w., 7 Ch. || Post S4 Fix It || Grief / Mourning, Victor Trevor, Friendship, Sherlock is Not Okay, Nightmares/Flashbacks/Panic Attacks, Parentlock, Pining Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John Comes Home) – Baker Street is very much the same. Only different. And Sherlock is just trying not to drown.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

Never Change a Running System by Lorelei_Lee (E, 54,246 w., 18 Ch. || Pre-TRF, Romance, Humour, Drama, Sex Toys, Anal, Rimming, Masturbation, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Public Sex, First Kiss / Time, Virgin Sherlock / Loss of Virginity, Accidental Voyeurism, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Experiments, Naive Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Straight With an Exception John, Hand Jobs) – Sherlock discovers his sexuality – with far-reaching consequences for John.

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

A Hundred Crimson Sols by elldotsee (E, 55,536 w., 16 Ch. || Astronauts AU || Mars Exploration / Space Travel, Slow Burn, Shy Sherlock, Scientist Sherlock / Biomed Engineer John, Alternating POV, Mutual Pining, UST, Angst with Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Suicidal Ideation, Zero-G Sex) – Will Holmes is a chemical researcher recognized widely for his contributions to the new Mars exploration program. Thanks to his ground-breaking developments, the IMMC (International Mars Mission Corporation) is one step closer to Martian colonization. Will and his team of scientists are headed out on the first of three manned missions before the first group of settlers arrive. Three days before launch, one of the crew has to be replaced. Will panics because...new people. The replacement is of course one John Watson, biomedical engineer and space hottie who was pretty sure he had retired from actual space exploration and was now content to work in the nice, quiet research lab. Can the crew survive this TOTALLY ROUTINE trip? Will they be able to endure each other for the looooooong trip in close quarters? Gonna be a wild ride... prepare for blast off. Part 1 of SpaceBois go to Space

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate's nose buried in your hair. Whilst you're in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

One Little Change by jadztone (E, 58,312 w., 12 Ch. || ASiB Divergence, Fake Relationship, Bed Sharing, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss / Time, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bi John / Gay Demisexual Sherlock, Switchlock, Alternating POV, Jealousy, Misunderstandings, Case Fic, Angst with Happy Ending, Emotional Love Making, Butt Plugs, Cuddles) – Our story begins right after John and Sherlock's first meeting with Irene Adler in September. It splits off into an AU that imagines them taking a case where they act as bait to hook a killer targeting closeted gays in secret relationships. In the weeks leading up to Christmas, many things happen that have our boys wondering if maybe they have a chance with each other. Then Irene fakes her death on Christmas Eve, and things get a lot more complicated - especially since they still have a killer to catch.

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn't have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky Sherlock, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) – Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #insecure sherlock #my fic recs #Anonymous #long post #awkwardness

141 notes · View notes

sanguine-tenshi · 3 years

Text

I just finished Inazuma and I have words

TL;DR: Hate the story, mixed on characters, love the design and tired of being treated like a 4-year-old with a learning disability.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

Let’s start with what I like.

Inazuma is absolutely beautiful. I’ll admit Inazuma hits a lot of aesthetic points for me. All the islands are different enough to feel unique but they still look like they are a part of the same land. There are a lot of secrets to discover through just exploring. Each island has a world quest to help it (make it less hostile towards you) so it very much feels like you are saving Inazuma from itself.

The puzzles are alright.

I like the cubes that rotate, I always put in the effort to figure them out properly.

Hate the ones that don’t rotate, they just aren’t engaging enough for me, so I just hit them at random and hope for the best.

The glowing floor tiles were fun, once you actually realized what they wanted you to do. A little bit too easy if I’m honest.

The electro compass isn’t really much of a puzzle, more of a fetch the nearest electrograna quest.

Those little pillars that require an electro connection are kinda boring to me, again not much of a puzzle, the hardest part is finding both pillars.

I love the new electro seelie, kinda hard to follow the jittery thing in certain parts but they make a nice contrast to the regular seelies.

I’m very much mixed on characters.

Yoimiya is adorable. She is so bright and bubbly. What little game play we had with her was fun and I love her over the top style of fighting. Kinda disappointed she’s another pyro archer but I do admit it fits her character well. It was also wonderful seeing her just settle down and be quiet, just be a part of that moment that obviously meant a lot to her. It’s always nice to see that bubbly, energetic character have that one quiet thing, ya know. Kinda funny it’s fireworks, of all things, for her.

Gorou I like, from what little we’ve seen of him. My man killed a dude with his thighs so I’m down. I do find it kinda ridiculous that a resistance general has his whole damn belly exposed. There is also something about his voice that just does not fit. I cannot for the life of me put my finger on what exactly it is. Could be the tone itself, could be just voice acting. It sort of feels like the VA is trying to sound deeper than he actually does.

Sangonomiya Kokomi, mixed. I like her design, she looks like some sort of mystical priestess. Again something about the voice is jarring. I expected her to sound sort of airy, like she isn’t 100% present, like she’s seeing something we can’t. TBH she reminds me of Luna from HP for some reason.

Yae Miko, I was interested because of her design. She sounds very arrogant and up her own ass, which would have been fine...if she hadn’t given us that god-awful line. “...I have high hopes for you, child. Don’t disappoint me.” Dear lord I wanted to punt her off the mountain. Or fucking what! Also she’s some bigshot priestess of the Sacred Sakura and yet she can’t do her damn job properly. Why couldn’t her arrogant ass come down from her high perch and cleanse the stupid roots? Why did the traveler have to do that shit?

Baal looks dead inside. Booba sword is overrated, get a life. I want a remach! And no cutscene shenanigans this time!

Kujou Sara seems like one of those ‘honor above all else’ characters. Those are either hit or miss with me. You have my attention for now. Also what are those shoes woman?! I’d rather you wear those leg-killing, needle point stilettoes instead of those Wish gag shoes. How in the name of all that is holy can you run in those?!

Thoma, I like him. At first I thought we were gonna get another Childe incident, but Thoma is too much of a innocent puppy to pull anything that horrible. To me he fits a fox a lot better than Childe does. Childe is a dingo and I stand behind that.

Kamisato Ayaka...hate her. At first I was neutral on her. Nothing about her design really spoke to me, but I was willing to wait and see. But then miHoYo started to violently push her friendship at us. We are totally friends now, this is the first time you see my face, but we are so totally friends now. And during her story quest everyone was like “Ah, you are so good Ayaka. You are so nice Ayaka. You are so perfect Ayaka. We all love you so much Ayaka. And oh, how could a mere merchant like myself...” Ew, go away. This is the first time I’m actively not pulling on a character banner. Normally I pull even if I’m not particularly interested in a character, because you never know how good their gameplay is until you take them out in the map. But I think I’ll be skipping this one. No thanks.

And now, the worst part, the story.

We’ve been hearing about the situation in Inazuma for a long time. There has been also a lot of talk about how hard it is to get there. About the wall of thunderclouds that surround the islands. So to have it cut to black and then voila Inazuma, feel just so cheap.

I was expecting something. An animation. A struggle. A quest. A minigame. At least show us the horrible weather! Something! Anything!

Hell if they wanted to be assholes about it they could have made it so that if the player fails at this point the ship is damaged, you return to Liyue and have to wait until tomorrow for the ship to be repaired. No Inazuma for today. That sure as hell would have raised the stakes.

The next complaint I have is with Yurika, the 2 milion mora processing fee girl. Later on Thoma mentions that the agency people see the fees as easy money, so her attitude doesn’t make much sense. After all someone like her would want to extract as much money as she can, but you still want the people to be able to pay that.

So it would make more sense to me if she was overly friendly and asked way too many questions. She’d need to get a much information as she can and after all the previous hostility people would be very open with her. So she’d be able to quickly find out why someone is here, what they are selling and roughly how much money they’d be able to pay. A merchant selling expensive silk would have more many than a regular ore merchant. So she’d be able to extract as much money as she could.

“I know this is a lot of money, especially for something so simple, but there is nothing I can do about it. I’m so very sorry.” And people wouldn’t say anything bad to her because she’s the first friendly face they see in Inazuma.

The stealth mission was just god-awful and I hope we never have to do that nonsense again.

Getting off of Ritou was a bit janky at the end, Chisato should have had a better reason for coming along. But I’m honestly just glad we didn’t get out the usual way...getting stuffed in a crate and smuggled out.

As a side note, I’m getting really tired of characters overexplaining things to me, especially Paimon. Dear lord, not everything has to be said, you can leave me to come to my own conclusions and solutions. Just please, who cares if a few player struggle for a bit, you don’t have to hold my hand through the whole thing.

Ayaka’s three were...ugh. It was basic emotional manipulation. Oh no this guy forgot about the love of his life and he’s been waiting for decades. And oh how sad this guy was so good and he helped these people so much but now he can’t remember. And oh the tragedy this guy forgot his life goal and is now hunted by the demons of the past. Oh the humanity!

And it did not work. Know why? Because I have no emotional investment in any of these people, in this land. What is happening to the vision bearers in Inazuma is tragic, true, but that doesn’t make me want to overthrow the government. I don’t live here. I just got here. I wanna ask a question or two and then move on. None of this concerns me.

I was so happy when the traveler just flat out refused to start a revolution. And then we had to go and meet some people and immediately I knew this was going to be some oh noes the tragedy moments and then we would agree to help them.

It’s so forced.

Wanna know what would have been better?

Just as we are leaving the Kamisato estate Thoma catches up with us. And he tells us he gets it. We are an outsider and this doesn’t concern us. He was hopeful but he expected the denial. We shouldn’t hold it against Ayaka.

He joins us as a guide because he knows of the people we have to meet.

And so as we help these three we also get to know Thoma. We find out he was an outsider too. He got in just before the worst of it started and then he was stuck in Inazuma. He lost someone to the Vision Hunt. They slowly lost their mind after loosing their vision, their ambition too closely tied to their personality to continue without it (what is happening to Domon hits a little too close to home and he has to walk away, this is where we hear the story of the one he lost). And the same would have happened to him if the Kamisatos hadn't taken him in. He owes them his vision, his sanity and his life.

So this rebellion is personal for him.

At the end of the three wishes the atmosphere is somber. We tell him we understand why Ayaka fights, why he fights. We know that this is all wrong, that it should be stopped...but not by us. We came here to get a lead on our brother. And rebellion isn’t an overnight affaire and we can’t loose so much time in Inazuma.

And yeah, he expected as much. He just asks that we let Ayaka down gently. It’d be a shame if someone as idealistic and hopeful as her lost their spark.

And so we are gentle but firm with Ayaka. She looks like she wants to argue with us but Thoma shakes his head at her. So she sighs and tells us that a promise is a promise. We should come to the Komore Teahouse in a few days and she’ll have a plan for us to meet with the Shogun.

Now we can still have a character story quest with Yoimiya and we can still somehow get involved with helping Master Masakatsu, but it’s through Yoimiya instead of Ayaka.

And instead of a character story quest with Ayaka we have one with Thoma. Hell, give him a whole damn hangout event even.

You can probably guess why I’m pushing the friendship with Thoma so much.

Because. He. Gets. Kidnapped. For. The. 100th. Vision. Ceremony.

And that would have been the perfect emotional in to get us involved in the rebellion. After all we just saw what happens to people who have their visions taken away and we are not letting that happen to Thoma, someone we just got close to.

So Baal makes it personal for us as well.

I have a few more minor complaints.

Aoi is stupid for asking for compensation after she tells us everything we needed to know because, ya know, we could have just walked away. We should have.

The whole stupid misunderstanding about the value Kurosawa’s sword holds. Kinda obvious he meant emotional value instead of monetary.

The suspicious amount of visionless NPCs and by that I mean this is the first time we have NPCs with vision. This wouldn’t have been a problem if we’ve seen NPCs with visions in Mond and Liyue.

The whole rebellion camp bit feels incredibly rushed. We just sort of lollygag over there and then there is a fight (against Sara and her stupid shoes).

Don’t make us fight Baal just to force us to lose. It would have been better if we were forced to retreat, because Thoma was injured, because there are too many soldiers for us to handle on our own. Hell, you can have a funny scene where we straight up jump off a cliff with Thoma clinging onto us and screaming bloody murder until he realizes we are slowly gliding away and he’s not about to plummet to his death.

The Sakura cleansing quest should have been voice acted.

The Mirror Maiden and Pyro Agent are totally on a date, I will not be told otherwise.

#genshin impact #inazuma #genshin inazuma #genshin 2.0 #Thoughts #opinion #yoimiya #gorou #sangonomiya kokomi #yae miko #baal #kujou sara #thoma #kamisato ayaka

84 notes · View notes

pillage-and-lute · 3 years

Note

OK, After Reading the Dragon Story (wich is Just so, so cute!) I have to throw this GIF at you and maybe you could write a little Thing about it top?

Hi Araglas1989!

I love the cervitaur gif, super cute!

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

“There’s something in the woods,” the alderman said.

No shit, Geralt thought. Deer, hedgehogs, rabbits, maybe a Kikimore at worst.

“Have you seen signs,” he said instead. “People taken, children disappearring?”

“Nay, nothing like that, but houses are broken into, at first we thought it was animal scavengers but some o’ those doors need hands to open.”

“And what made you think it was animals, then?” Geralt was trying very hard not to use his talking to stupid people voice.

“It broke into the mill,” the alderman said darkly. “And flour was all strewn about the floor. There’s locks on the mill, latches, but on the floor, all the prints were hooves.”

Cervitaur, Geralt’s mind said.

“A devil!” Raged the alderman. “Or witches! Our town is beset by evil spirits, intent on stealing our food!”

“Right,” Geralt said. “I’ll take care of it.”

He made a purchase in town then led Roach to the woods and tied her up in a glade with grass and even a little sunshine. Then he sat down and opened his pack, setting out a cloth and pulling out his purchase.

Sugarred, candied ginger. Cervitaurs were distant relatives of fauns, and anything even close to a faun had a sweet tooth. This one was probably starving too, if it was willing to go into a village. Odd, since most wild cervitaurs knew how to forage.

He took a nibble of the candied ginger. For his witcher senses, it was a bit much, but he made happy “hmmm yum” noises.

Geralt was an impressively bad actor, he knew, but he was really hoping this would work, rather than properly tracking the cervitaur and probably scaring him half to death.

There was a rustle in the bushes, and it sounded bigger than a rabbit or fox. He set the little twist of paper with the ginger on the cloth he’d spread out, tilting it so some spilled out. Then he stood up, going over to Roach and running his hands through her mane.

There was another rustle. Geralt waited, breath bated and sensitive ears perked. Grass crunched under a hoof, a second, and then another hesitant hoof.

“I’ve heard that witchers don’t like to kill sentient creatures,” said a voice. Geralt turned.

A very thin cervitaur was in the clearing, he wore a stained blue doublet and there was a lute strapped across his back.

Geralt pointedly set his swords down, “No, we try not to, unless we have no choice.”

The cervitaur hesitated. “But you laid this trap for me?”

“Less trap,” Geralt said. “More an offerring. I figured you were hungry, most of your kind wouldn’t go near a village for less than starvation.”

The cervitaur knelt, in the funny way deer do, by the cloth, but didn’t take any ginger. Geralt sat on the opposite side of the small cloth.

“It’s not poisoned, then?” said the cervitaur, his eyes barely leaving the candy. He really was very thin, knelt like this Geralt could count every rib.

Geralt pointedly took another tiny bite, “No,” he said.

“You eat it like it is,” the cervitaur said, but he picked up a cube of ginger.

“Witcher senses,” Geralt said ruefully. It’s a bit much for me. What’s your name? I can’t keep thinking of you as ‘the cervitaur’.”

“Jaskier,” came the reply, slightly muffled as he unslung his lute from his shoulder. There was dappling on his back, but his face was that of a young man, quite a handsome one, really.

“You still have spots,” Geralt said. “You aren’t a wild cervitaur?” Only young ones or cervitaurs who often transformed into humans kept their snow spots.

Jaskier took a careful bite of ginger, then hummed in delight and took the whole cube into his mouth. “Yeah,” he said around the ginger. “My mum was a cervitaur too, but she bought a glamor from a sorceress and fell in love with my dad, then she had a glamor made for me.”

He ate another ginger cube, but Geralt took some hearty bread from his pack and cut it, preparing to listen. It was obvious Jaskier needed something heavier than candy.

“I never learned to forage, and since I mostly looked like a human, I didn’t understand why I should learn.”

Geralt hummed. A glamor could transform a cervitaur, already magical, into very nearly human, but in the real form they needed to eat like both deer and humans. Jaskier would have probably gotten by okay on grass but his human half needed real nutrients, without knowing how to find nuts and berries, he would have starved.

“So you broke into the grain store,” he said, handing Jaskier a slice of bread.

“Yes,” the lad looked shamefaced. “I didn’t want to steal but I can’t just walk into town, my glamor wore off.”

“Show me.”

“Jaskier pulled a little silver band from his finger and dropped it into Geralt’s outstretched hand. The witcher examined it carefully, looking at each of the runes. There was a long scuff through one.

“I might be able to fix this,” he said. “Temporarily at least, but that’ll do until we get you to a sorceress.”

Jaskier watched, chewing contentedly, but his eyes never leaving Geralt, as geralt pulled a silver needle from his pack. He lay the needle on a stone and heated it with igni to red heat, wincing as he picked up the sliver of metal in his fingers. He scratched the last symbol back onto the ring, dropping the needle when it was done.

“You’re burnt,” Jaskier said, reaching out for Geralt’s hand, looking at the line of blisters where he’d held the needle.

“It’ll heal in an hour,” Geralt said, proferring the ring. “Try it on.”

Jaskier slid the ring onto his middle finger and he was sitting crosslegged in the grass, some rather tattered trousers on. There was a hole in the bottom of one boot.

“They thought you were a devil, you know,” Geralt said. Jaskier chuckled, then looked regretful.

“I suppose they wont pay you now,” he said. “You have no proof.”

Geralt sideyed him. “Depends, how good of an actor are you?”

Jaskier grinned and popped some ginger into his mouth. “You have no idea.”

Thirty minutes later a dirty, thin bard stumbled into the village.

“Vanquished!” he cried, “The devil is dead! I was captured in his lair, I saw it all!”

The young man was charming, and had been through a horrible ordeal, and as he sat in the tavern and told --and sung-- the tale of how the noble witcher, the white wolf, had fought a devil to free him, the townspeople were entranced. Food and drink was sent his way by sympathetic townsfolk, Geralt even got sent a couple heaping platefuls, and ale was on the house.

Traveling with a bard mightn’t be so bad, he reflected. He nudged Jaskier, though, when he started to absentmindedly lick salt straight from the shaker.

484 notes · View notes

cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

lonely this christmas

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Warnings: mild mild cursing, mainly just fluff !!! Word Count: 2.9k Summary: Reader admits to Spencer she will be spending the holidays alone but he’s got other plans.

A/N: starting off the month of december with a christmas centred fic!! hope you like it <3

Being alone on Christmas wasn’t unfamiliar to Spencer. In fact it was pretty much the opposite. Being alone on Christmas was typical, ordinary.

The nature of his job being what it was, he usually ended up working over the holidays anyway. Therefore he never made any plans with his mom because most times he just ended up disappointing her. Being alone at Christmas was fine. Being a disappointment however, completely different story.

As years went by Diana stopped noticing his absence. Of course if Spencer was to visit her at the sanitarium over Christmas she would welcome him with open arms, but he never does. He used to feel incredibly guilty about it, but that too passed with time.

There was no indication that this year would be any different so he kept his schedule clear. However, the twenty-fifth of December approached fast. Very fast. The closer it got the more it was shaping to be the first holiday season, in a long time, the team would get to spend with their families. And even Spencer found himself considering going home to Nevada; seeing his mom.

A tab of the airline website was constantly open on his desktop. He checked it regularly; hovering over the option to buy a ticket.

That’s how you caught him one day.

You observed from your own desk as Spencer leaned back in his chair, one hand still holding the mouse. The wheels inside his brain clearly turning; evaluating all of the options and possible outcomes.

“Hey, doctor.” You called out grabbing his attention. “If you spend any more time thinking about whether you should go home for Christmas, all the good seats will be gone.”

He chuckled. “I guess you’re right.” “As always.” You shot him a playful wink as he turned to once again look at his screen.

“There. Bought.” Spencer exclaimed after a brief moment of silence. “My mom will be happy.” “When was the last time you seen her?” You asked curiously. “It has been more than six months at this stage.” He answered while standing up.

“Coffee?” He gestured to the empty mug on your desk. You nodded. “You read my mind.”

The two of you walked towards the kitchenette in the office. It was quite late on a Friday night meaning everyone had cleared out for the weekend. Only the usual suspects remained; Spencer and you.

“When was the last time you were home for Christmas?” “Three years ago. How about you?” Spencer asked, tilting his head slightly to look at you. “Oh, I honestly don’t even remember.” You replied shrugging your shoulders.

“So your family must have been happy to hear you were getting the chance this year to spend the holidays with them.” The brunette doctor switched on the coffee machine and leaned against the wall while you elegantly hopped up onto the counter.

“Actually, I didn't tell them.”

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows. “How come?”

He watched intently as you chewed on your bottom lip - a bad habit you failed miserably to break. In that second of silence you wondered whether you should tell him the truth. He was always so open with you, honest. It would only be fair to repay him with the same sincerity. So you took in a quick breath, and exhaled it quietly before looking up to meet his amiable gaze.

“My mom and I got into this huge fight a couple of weeks ago. She tried to set me up with this guy because in her eyes it’s unacceptable that I’m single. She doesn't think it’s right that my younger sister is getting married next summer and I haven't had one relationship in my life that lasted longer than a month.” A soft sigh escaped you. “I told her to butt out, using much harsher language than that of course.” Your mouth twirled into a smile; trying to make light of this conversation. Being no stranger to your frequent use of profanity Spencer smirked.

“We haven't spoken since. She hasn't formally invited me over for the holidays which she always does, even if she knows I won’t be able to make it, and whenever I bring it up with my dad or my siblings they change the topic so.” You shrugged once again while nervously dangling your legs. “It’s easier not to go.”

Spencer nodded slowly, taking in all of the information you just unloaded. Shaking your head you reached over to grab the coffee pot and poured some into your mug.

“I’m sorry doctor. I didn’t mean to just lay it all on you like that.”

He stepped towards you. “Don’t be.” Holding his own cup in front of him, he smiled kindly. “Thank you for telling me.” You began to pour the black hot liquid into his mug; a slight shake to your hand. “Thank you for listening.” “Anytime.”

Spencer placed his full cup on the counter beside you and began to rummage through the cupboards in search for sugar. “Y/N I gotta ask, and obviously if you don't want to answer me you don't have to.” He cleared his throat as you took a sip of your bitter black coffee. “Why didn’t you want to go on a date with the man your mom suggested?”

Once he successfully located the sugar, he straightened his shirt and plopped two cubes into the hot beverage. He offered you one but you shook your head, taking another sip.

“I get that it’s not really my place but it just seems a small price to pay for being able to spend Christmas with your loved ones.”

“If you must know doctor, I prefer to meet people through work. Prison systems and such.” You joked, a wide smile gracing your features. Spencer rolled his eyes. “And how is that going for you?” “Surprisingly well. I have a date shortly after we’re back from the Christmas break.” He arched his brow and smiled at you; playing along as you continued. “Solid guy. Only murdered five people.”

You beamed at the brunette doctor who was grinning back. “Maybe I should consider adding prisons to my dating pool.” You let out an over-exaggerated gasp and placed your free hand over your chest. “Is doctor Spencer Reid really on the market?”

Spencer shook his head. His light curls bouncing finely, matching his every move. He lowered his lips to the brim of his mug and took a sip of his coffee before focusing on you. “No, but for the right girl I’d consider it.”

Without thinking you raised your free arm and adjusted his tie. Flattening down the edge of his collar, you could feel his eyes on you. Yet for some reason you were suddenly afraid to look up and meet his gaze. Strange. Or maybe not so strange.

“Lucky girl.” You said in a mere whisper. Letting your hand fall, you stepped off the counter with a light bounce. Spencer cleared his throat and the two of you walked back to your seats.

The next few hours were spent working in silence. You tried to focus on the mountain of paperwork on your desk, yet instead found yourself glancing at the young doctor every other second - secretly hoping he would also be peeking up at you. And he was. Just not when you were looking at him.

“Y/N if you want you can come with me to Nevada, spend Christmas with me and my mom. ” Spencer proposed out of the blue. He got up out of his chair and grabbed his jacket, slowly putting it on. You smiled at him. “Thank you doctor but I will honestly be okay alone.” Pause. “Plus, I wouldn't want to interfere.”

He was about to protest, say you wouldn't be interrupting, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to seem pushy. “If you change your mind, let me know.” He reached for his bag and threw the strap over his head. “Just do it quickly or all the good seats will be gone.” He teased. You giggled. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. ”

The brunette agent hesitated. He swayed on his heel for a moment before approaching your desk. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asked, eyes locking with yours. “There’s still a couple of things I want to get done but thank you for the kind offer.” Spencer nodded. A faint look of disappointment appeared on his face. “Goodnight Y/N.” “Goodnight doctor.”

Christmas was upon you in the blink of an eye. On the last day before break the team exchanged Secret Santa presents before enjoying a pizza party. This year you had Penelope who squealed over her gift as everyone watched in amusement; you included. Resting against the wall, you observed as the blonde jumped around the room with joy. Her smile made you smile.

“Good job on Penelope’s gift.” Spencer appeared beside you holding two plastic cups filled to the brim with eggnog. He handed you one before making himself comfortable next to you, his arm pressed gently to yours. “I don’t know what you're talking about doctor.” You responded, tilting your head slightly to look at him.

“I like your Christmas sweater.” A small smile circled your lips as you reached out to flick the little bell sown onto the top of the Santas hat on his jumper. Spencer chuckled. “Thank you. You know, I really couldn't decide between this or the one with the Home Alone reference.” “Ah, the trusted Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animal sweater.” “That would be the one, yes.” The two of you beamed at each other.

“I’m surprised you know what Home Alone is doctor.” You teased, nudging him playfully in the arm. Spencer laughed. “If I’m being honest, I was more intrigued by the booby traps than the plot of the movie.” He retorted as you sipped on the eggnog; slightly rolling your eyes at his response. “Of course you were. Don’t tell me you tested them out too?”

He averted his gaze without responding, clearly a little embarrassed. “Well...”

You couldn't help but giggle. Slowly, you leaned in towards him so that your lips were now at his ear. The brunette agent shivered as your hot breath hit his skin, however he didn't move away.

“Don’t worry doctor, I did too.” You whispered.

Instantly, he turned to look at you once again. His face was now inches away from yours, and as he stared oddly into your eyes the air caught in your throat. The two of you hovered right there for a moment, not moving and quite soundless, simply feeling each other's presence - as if there was no-one else in the room, no party.

Eventually you broke the eye contact and took a step to your right, moving away from him. Suddenly feeling timid, you took another sip of your beverage while your free hand ran through your hair. Spencer also looked away. His mind racing a million miles per hour; he should have kissed you, right? No. Not in front of all these people, your colleagues. That would be bad. Unprofessional. Would you have even wanted him to kiss you? Did you like him like that? He hoped you did.

The party soon drew to a close. You were lost in conversation with Emily while Spencer was trying to teach Morgan and Rossi some card tricks. Your gaze kept averting in the direction of the young doctor every once in a while; Emily of course noticed. “Tell me again why you’re not going to Nevada with our resident genius?” A puzzled look now present on your face. “How did you-”

“Reid told Morgan who told Garcia who told me.” She interrupted. You laughed at the ridiculousness of what she just came out of her mouth. “It’s like I’m in high school all over again.” She laughed under her breath.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“So, why aren’t you going?” Emily pried. A quiet sigh escaped your lips. “Like I told him, I don’t want to interfere.” She rolled her eyes; not buying into your bullshit. “He wouldn't have invited you-” “Fuck, please I don’t want-” She raised her hands in front of her. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

Glancing at the time, you excused yourself wishing Emily a wonderful and happy Christmas. Quickly and quietly, you headed to your desk and put on your winter coat. As you grabbed your handbag you turned to face the remaining partygoers: “Happy holidays everyone!”. Your eyes briefly locked with Spencers who shot you a shy smile as you mouthed ‘Merry Christmas doctor.’ before hurrying out the door.

Two days later it was the twenty-fifth of December. You woke up on your couch, having fallen asleep during Christmas movie marathon, to the sound of your phone ringing.

Yawning, you reached for the device. Spencer. Answering, you pressed it to your ear and croaked; “Hello.”.

“I hope I didn't wake you.” “You did actually.” You responded yawning once again and gradually scrambling to your feet. You ambled towards the kitchen, straight for the coffee maker. “But I could never be mad at you doctor.” “I’m glad to hear that.”

There was a short pause.

“How are you?” He asked, his voice kind. “I’m okay, no need to worry about me. Shit-” “Y/N?”

“Sorry. I just realised I’m out of coffee grounds.”

Spencer chuckled on the other line. “It’s not funny doctor. I’ve no coffee and everything is closed because it’s Christmas.” “You could always switch to tea for the day.” Rolling your eyes, you smirked. “Right, because I’m such an avid tea drinker.”

There was another short pause.

“How was your flight? How’s Nevada? How’s your mom?” You asked changing the topic, making conversation. The young doctor didn't respond. “Hey, are you there?” The line cut-off. Weird.

‘He’ll call back later.’, you thought and headed for your bathroom.

An hour later you were showered and dressed. You switched on the lights on your poorly decorated Christmas tree and were about to make yourself comfortable on the sofa when a knock on the door caught your attention. You scurried over, without looking through the peephole to see who it was, you opened it.

“Spencer.”

“Merry Christmas Y/N.”

The brunette doctor smiled as you furrowed your brows. “What are you doing here? I thought you were in Nevada.”

“I was. I got back early this morning.”

He waited for you to invite him in before shimmying passed. He set down two tote bags on the kitchen counter before turning to look at you once again. Lost for words, you locked the door and approached the young doctor. Slowly you peeked inside the bags. “Supplies.” He simply stated while taking off his coat.

“You didn’t really think I’d let you spend Christmas alone, did you?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “You didn't have to do this doctor.” “I know.” He shrugged before reaching into one of the bags and unpacking the items. “I wanted to.” He held up a bag of coffee grounds and you couldn't help but giggle delicately.

“Thank you.” Your fingers brushed his as you grabbed the bag sending a shiver down your spine. Spencer froze feeling the sensation too. Nervously, he let his hand fall but the half-smile on his face remained.

“Where did you get this stuff anyway?” You asked as you walked around to the coffee machine. “I packed what I had at home.” Nodding, you began to prepare two cups. As the appliance whirred, you turned in your spot. “What about your mom? Wouldn't she have wanted to spend Christmas Day with you?”

Spencer continued to unpack the bags, neatly placing each item on the counter in front of him. “We spent all of yesterday together.” Pause. “And besides, she’s the one that urged me to come here.” He peered up at you, resting his palms down on the kitchen counter. The second his hazel eyes locked with yours, the flush of your cheeks turned a slender pink.

Not really thinking you ushered back towards him. The brunette doctor watched you attentively. Gently, you placed one hand on top of his and gave it a tender squeeze. “Lucky me.” You whispered staring deep into his eyes.

Spencers smile spread wider in unison with yours. After a few seconds of pure comfortable silence, he cleared his throat. “Do you think your prisoner boyfriend would mind if I asked you out on a date?” A faint giggle escaped your lips as the shade of your jowl turned from pink to bright red. “Even if he does-” You took another step towards Spencer, closing the space between you. “-I think you could handle him.”

Spencer chuckled. Using his free hand, he placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. His thumb stroked your cheek in the process and you angled into his pleasant touch.

“Thank you for being here.” You muttered, unintentionally chewing on your bottom lip.

He cupped your face as his gaze moved briefly down to your mouth before once again locking with yours. “Thank you for having me.” His voice soothing, not quite matching the fervour in his eyes.

In the space of a single heartbeat, he leaned down and his lips crushed against yours passionately. You let go of his hand and placed both your palms on his chest; tugging lightly at his shirt to try and pull him in even closer. Spencer did not waste a second, his now free arm moved elegantly around your waist.

The two of you pulled away breathlessly. He gently pressed his forehead to yours as you smiled. “Merry Christmas doctor.” “Merry Christmas Y/N.”

masterlist

430 notes · View notes

ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

City Girl-Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

(GIF credit to @pcllygray)

Masterlist

Prompts

Tags: @jenepleurepasbaby @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @haphazardhufflepuff @mzcrazy2

Requested by anonymous: 'Hello my love! I hope it’s alright to request. Lately I’ve been an even bigger sucker for Bonnie Gold. Could you maybe do something where the reader is a Shelby, and Bonnie falls for them but has no clue that their brothers are the Peaky and practically his boss. Just something fluffy and fun! Please'

Characters: Bonnie Gold x Shelby!Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Swearing, lots of fluff

(A/N: It's long, I got carried away)

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The wind whipped through my hair and hit my face as I rode my horse, her long legs galloping across the open field. This was my one piece of freedom, the time where it didn’t matter who I was or where I was going. It was just me and my horse, both experiencing the thrill of an adrenaline rush. Slowing down, I let her walk so she wasn’t exhausted, patting her neck graciously.

“Good girl,” I said,“you always know how to make me feel better.”

She reared her head back, shaking it and causing her hair to mess up. I quietly giggled as I brushed it out, continuing to ride her. We had gone a little further than usual today, and if any of my family found out how far away I was, they would not be happy. But I didn’t care. It was my day off, and I needed to be away from the hustle and bustle of Small Heath; as well as experience the tiniest amount of fresh air before heading back to the polluted city. After a few more minutes, I stopped my horse, dismounting her and grabbing her reigns. Her nose nudged me as I rummaged in my bag, knowing that her treats were in there.

“Don’t say I don’t look after you.” I mumbled to her as I produced a couple of sugar cubes.

The tender moment was interrupted when I heard hooves hitting against the ground, fast at first until I saw a man also riding a horse, slowing down as he approached me. My hand reached into my bag again, fingers resting on my gun. I had loaded it this morning, I knew I could whip it out at a moments notice.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that’s a very spoilt horse.” he said as he stopped in front of me.

“A girls got to look after her horse, hasn’t she?” I warily said.

“I don’t mean to scare you, but it’s not safe out here.”

“So why are you here?”

He chuckled, glancing away from me for a moment.“I must say, I’ve never seen such a beauty around these parts.”

I smirked.“You talking to me or the horse?”

He smiled again, and I found myself enjoying the view.“I’m Bonnie.”

“(Y/N).”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you (Y/N).”

“Do you own the land?”

“No, but I live on it.”

It clicked in my mind that he was a gypsy, not that I looked down on him now. My family had told me time and time again that we were descended from gypsies, and that we should never forget our roots.

“You’re right, I’ve never been here before.” I said as I mounted my horse.

“Well, would you like a tour?”

“A tour of a few fields and some trees?”

“That’s what all the city girls say.”

“Oh, so you’ve had a few ‘city girls’ turn up around here?”

Bonnie seemed flustered for a moment, but as I broke out laughing so did he, relief washing over his face. Commanding my horse forward, I was now next to him, having a chance to study his handsome features up close.

“Well, what are we waiting for?”

As expected, Bonnie knew his way around these great outdoors like the back of his hand. He would tell me the names of all the flowers and what they meant, explaining who created the pathways throughout the woods and how his ancestors used every plant and animal to survive. He was so passionate when speaking, and although there was definitely flirting throughout (from both of us), it wasn’t arrogant or cocky. I wasn’t just going to fall for this boy who I met in a field, but he was much more interesting than any lad who had come up to me on a night out. When we returned to the open field, I challenged him to a race, our laughs echoing out, before I triumphantly beat him.

“Please do not say you let me win, because boys have said that to me before.” I breathed out as he caught up to me.

“Oh, so you’ve been hanging around with country boys?”

I rolled my eyes at him, looking over my shoulder to see that the sun was getting low in the sky.“I’ve had a lovely time, but I have to get back home Bonnie.”

“Let me ride with you to the road.”

“Don’t you also need to get back to your family?”

“We’re gypsies, we’re free to roam where we want, when we want.”

As he said, we rode together to the back road, where hardly anyone drove, but it led back to Small Heath. I wasn’t sure if I would see Bonnie again, but unlike other boys that swaggered around or acted as if they were better than anyone else, essentially putting me off them, Bonnie held this charm, there was something about him that intrigued me. And the mystery of ever seeing each other again made me excited.

“This is where we part ways.” I stated.

“Will you be back? Maybe we could ride together sometime.”

I pretended to think about it, already trotting away from him.“It is a nice area. Perhaps you will see me around these parts.”

He scoffed a laugh.“You won’t even tell me when?”

I called out over my shoulder.“I guess you’ll just have to keep an eye out for me!”

No one had questioned where I had been that day, they knew I had been riding, and there seemed to be a lot of tension as I stepped into the room. Obviously something had happened (which they wouldn’t tell me, not yet anyway), but after my afternoon with Bonnie, I really didn’t care. My family was too caught up in whatever problem Tommy had got us into to ask why I was constantly smiling and day dreaming.

The next day I had been stuck in the shop, repeatedly huffing and making snarky comments at the incompetent men I was stuck working with. However, I knew I was just annoyed that I was working on such a beautiful day. It would have been perfect to go riding, a perfect day to see a certain gypsy boy. When Bonnie and I had gone our separate ways, I hadn’t thought too much about him until I went to bed. He had been on my mind, that bright, wide smile, intriguing eyes and the sound of his voice...that’s when I knew I was already in too deep. When I woke still thinking about him, I wanted to scold myself for being infatuated with a boy I just met, but I couldn’t, and the urge to find out more about him took over.

Watching as my brothers walked out of the shop, not telling me where they were going as usual, I took it as an opportunity to sneak away without any of them asking where I was going on my break. I wouldn’t have time to go all the way out to the field again, but being outside was better than being knocked into again and again by the amount of people in the shop.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Polly said, catching me before I could step out of the door.

I refrained from sighing.“Just taking my break.”

“It’s the busiest time of day, and you’re going to leave now?”

“Just ten minutes, please Pol? I can’t stand all the noise a moment longer.”

She was the one who sighed.“Fine. But do not be late coming back!”

As soon as she finished her sentence, I was out of there. My pace was quick, not headed to anywhere in particular, just somewhere less crowded. Slowing down, I pondered buying something to eat, buy a treat, I deserved it having to deal with those men. However, I was distracted when someone laid their hand on my shoulder, and being by myself, I went into defence mode; grabbing their arm, I twisted it as I spun around, instantly gasping when I saw who it was.

“Bonnie?!” I let go of him as he winced.“I am so sorry, I just panicked.”

“It’s fine.” he groaned, cradling his hand.“I shouldn’t have been so sneaky.”

“What are you doing here?”

“My dad is dealing with some business. But I spotted you across the street and had to see you.”

“So you’re in my part of the woods now.”

“It seems so.”

“I would offer you a tour, but I’m on break from work.”

“That’s alright. It seems I might be spending a lot more time here.”

“How come?”

“Long story short, I’ve always wanted to be a boxer. Never had much luck seeing as I live on the road, but dad seems to have sealed a deal, and I’m starting my training soon.”

“Bonnie, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah...” his cheeks started to flush pink.“I haven’t secured a match yet but...but I would love it if you could come to my first one.”

I smiled, nodding slightly.“I would be honoured to watch you win.”

“In the mean time, perhaps you could show me around, go for some drinks-”

“Bonnie!” someone shouted, an older man waiting for him. It must have been his father.

“I’ve got to go, but I’ll definitely be seeing you soon.”

Only when he began walking away did I feel how fast my heartbeat was. I was so giddy, an urge to giggle almost every other minute. It was embarrassing.

A few days passed by, and it was agonisingly slow. I had kept an eye out for Bonnie, taking a different route to walk past where some lads were trained to fight, but I saw nothing. I even went out riding to the field again, though he wasn't there either. The horrible, twisting feeling in my stomach made me upset, made me angry, I almost felt humiliated that I got my hopes up over a boy I hardly knew. That all changed when I saw him again in the streets.

"Bonnie!" I smiled as I ran towards him.

He was grinning too, meeting me halfway."(Y/N), I've been looking for you everywhere!"

There was an awkward moment where neither of knew if we should hug, shake hands or just leave it. Bonnie hesitantly pulled me in, but as soon as his arms wrapped around me, it felt right.

"I was actually looking for you too." I admitted as we parted.

"We were probably going around in circles chasing one another."

"Yeah, we must have looked like lunatics."

"I'm sorry I didn't catch you. But, guess what?"

His excited expression made me giggle."What?"

"I have my first boxing match."

"That's great Bonnie! I expect an invite, a car better come pick me up, a glass of champagne at the door-"

"Woah, unfortunately I don't think I can arrange any of that, but I can get you front row seats."

"So now I'll get to watch you win up close."

"No pressure there then."

"I'm not worried. I'll even place a bet on you if they're doing them."

"Good to know I have someone have so much confidence in me. Don't worry, I'll give you a good show."

The night of the match finally arrived. I had used the rest of the week to plan my outfit (a great excuse to go shopping, with Ada giving me opinions on everything), decide what to do with my hair and makeup, as well as what the fuck I was going to say to Bonnie after the fight. Would he be too beaten up to go drinking with? Would he even be able to string a sentence together? It occurred to me that I hadn't even seen him fight, maybe I was about to see a whole different side to him.

"(Y/N), cancel what you're doing Saturday night." Tommy commanded as he waltzed into my room without knocking.

I scoffed as I stopped reading, the book falling into my lap."Why?"

"You're going to a boxing match."

"I was going anyway."

"What?"

"Yeah, Bonnie, the smaller lad who's fighting, he invited me."

"How the fuck do you know Bonnie Gold?"

"W-we met when I was out riding."

"And you didn't think to tell me this?"

"Why would I? Whenever I've mentioned any boy before, you lot threaten and scare them away. Also, he was just a gypsy boy I met."

"I'm in business with his father."

"Well, shit. Small world. But I'm still going, right? I've spent my money on a new dress, I can't let it go to waste-"

"Yes, you're still going. Does he know who you are?"

I shook my head.

Tommy looked up at the ceiling, sighing before he left."Fuck me."

For some reason, my heart sank at the thought of Tommy using Bonnie to his advantage. He wouldn't have arranged this fight over good will or the kindness of his heart, it was covering something up. However, I was still going, I was going for Bonnie.

Following behind the other Shelby women, I tossed my hair back as men gawked at us. We held the power too, and not just because of how gorgeous we all looked that night. We were headed towards our seats, but I was too impatient to wait for Bonnie. Splitting from the group, I glanced around the crowds, spotting where Bonnie could potentially be before the fight. Luckily I was right, waltzing in to see Tommy speaking to Bonnie, as well as his father stood there.

"You're not supposed to be back here (Y/N)." Tommy stated, somehow expecting me to turn around and leave.

"I've come to wish our fighter good luck." I smirked, locking eyes with Bonnie.

His eyes were wide, flickering between my brother and I.

"Fine, I suppose he was the one to invite you."

With that he left, Bonnie's father following, but not before looking me up and down; not in a way that creeper me out, he was sizing me up, seeing if the youngest Shelby was as strong as the others. Once they were gone, I approached Bonnie, who was only in a pair of shorts and a robe.

"You're a Shelby?" he breathed out.

"Yes."

"And you didn't think to mention it?"

"You never asked. And also, does it matter?"

"Yes! Your family are the Peaky Blinders!"

"I just never said anything cause....well if I'm honest, I was too distracted when talking to you to bring it up."

"Distracted by what?"

"Well...You Bonnie."

We shared a smile, and he took another step towards me."Thank you for coming. I was trying to look out for you."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Now, you need to concentrate on totally beating the other guy to a pulp."

"You have such a way with words. After I win, I'm taking you out for celebratory drinks."

"Sounds like a plan."

I boldly leaned up on my tiptoes, pecking him lightly on the lips. Opening my eyes, I saw him leaning in again, stopping when he realised I had pulled away.

"Now go out there and win Bonnie. I'll be watching and waiting."

#bonnie gold one shot #bonnie gold ship #bonnie gold x reader #bonnie gold imagine #bonnie gold imagines #peaky blinders imagines #peaky boys #peaky blinders imagine #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fan fiction #peaky blinders x reader

322 notes · View notes

delimeful · 4 years

Text

not always what they seem

finished g/t space au commission for @legendsgates ! it was super fun to work on, i hope everyone enjoys!

warnings: dehumanization, treating people like animals, abduction, miscommunication, remus being remus, deceit, misguided but good intentioned light sides

“Hey, kid, wake up.”

Virgil groaned, shifting to his side. It was still dark, why was someone bothering him?

“There you go. It’s a great day outside, open your eyes already.”

Wait. He lived alone. Who was talking to him?

Visions of chatty burglars or insane door to door salesmen breaking and entering flashed before his eyes, and he jerked upright with a gasp, eyes flying open.

Darkness. He couldn’t see a thing. “What?”

Virgil nearly poked himself in the eye in his haste to check his face for a blindfold. He should be able to see plenty; there was an annoying streetlamp just under his apartment window. Had he spontaneously gone blind? Had he been kidnapped? Was he in a trunk, slowly suffocating to death?

“Hey, calm down. Everything’s going to be fine, don’t pass out on us now.”

A burst of unhinged, echoing laughter nearly cut off the end of the sentence, and chills ran down Virgil’s spine. “Oh god. Look, I take terrible care of my body, you don’t want my organs, I promise.”

There was an aggrieved sigh nearby. Virgil hesitantly reached his hands out to feel the space around him. It didn’t feel like a car trunk. He was sitting up just fine.

“I don’t think we’re being trafficked, but if we were, you’d be pleading your case to the wrong guy. I’m in the same situation as you.” A dull knocking accompanied the words. “Unfortunately.”

Virgil carefully turned his body to face the direction of the voice, squinting in case he could make out any sign of an attack. “...Right, sure. Care to fill me in on what-- what exactly that situation is?”

The stranger only seemed sardonically amused at the bite in his voice. “We’re trapped in a room. There’s glass walls dividing the room into sections. There’s a little bit of light coming in through the roof, your eyes will adjust soon. That’s all I’ve got. Remember anything from before you woke up?”

Virgil shoved down the rising panic, rising to a tentative crouch with his arms outstretched for balance. He’d been… What had he been doing? “I… I don’t know.”

Another sigh. “Yes, I assumed so.” The outline of a silhouette seemed to be coming into focus. Unless Virgil was just imagining things. “Thank you so much for being helpful.”

He bristled at the tone, but before he could respond, another giggling laugh reverberated around them.

“Don’t fret so much, figments,” a new, somewhat nasally voice said cheerily. “I’m sure your terrible and inevitably gory deaths will only hurt for as long as the dream lasts.”

Virgil took a long, shaky inhale. “What the fuck.”

“‘The fuck’ is Remus, the third occupant in our room. As far as I can tell, he believes this is all a hallucination brought on by sleep paralysis. Best to just ignore him,” the first stranger advised dryly.

“I’m still ignoring you back,” ‘Remus’ returned in a singsong. Virgil almost couldn’t blame him. He’d really rather wake up and realize this was all a dream, too.

He wasn’t going to bet on it, though. He stumbled forwards, feeling the walls for a door, a switch, anything.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” the unnamed stranger scorned. “I’ve already checked everything that could be checked. Nothing’s going to happen--”

His voice was cut off by three quick, consecutive beeps from somewhere above their heads. Virgil turned his head this way and that, searching for an intercom or mechanical device nearby. “What’s that?”

Neither stranger answered, and Virgil realized that this was something new just as one side of the room began to slide upwards like a garage door. He raised a hand as bright light poured into the room, backing up as far as he could. In the corner of his vision, another person was doing much the same.

Something large moved outside the room, its shadow falling on them and making it a little less difficult to see.

Unfortunately, what he was seeing was impossibly horrifying enough to be real.

A huge figure, like a giant from a children’s fairytale, was visible from the torso up. It was wearing something close to a full body hazmat suit, its inhuman face visible behind a pane of red-tinted glass. Piercing red eyes were placed just slightly too far apart, and a shiny black shell covered the bottom of its face like a curved medical mask.

It leaned closer, and Virgil recoiled harshly enough to slam his back into the corner of the room. The eyes settled on him for a moment, before flicking over to the other occupants. Adrenaline surged through him, but there was nowhere to channel it. He couldn’t flee, and there was no way he could fight. He was helpless.

In the section next to Virgil, a short man dressed in formal wear stood carefully still. He was meeting eyes with the monster, his expression neutral and still. Where Virgil had felt like a deer in the headlights, this man acted more like a snake assessing prey. The only sign that he was unsettled was the white knuckled fists at his sides.

The monster made an unsettling sound, like a hum interspersed with clicks, and then turned its attention to the only human still laying on the ground, presumably Remus. A few rigid plates along its forehead twitched downward, and it chittered at Remus.

Virgil caught what looked like mandibles protruding from under its face plate, and felt lightheaded.

“Remus, I suggest you look alive,” the snakelike man muttered, attention still locked on the huge creature. Remus didn’t respond, though whether it was because of the monster or because he was still ignoring them was anyone’s guess.

A moment later, the monster reached up with a limb, the suit glove doing nothing to conceal the creature’s spindly, clawed fingers, arranged like an osprey’s talons. It tapped the glass between them, and Virgil was abruptly reminded of a child at an aquarium. The ‘room’ they were captive in was a mere box to this being. An enclosure.

Remus finally sat up, stretching lanky arms as though it was a normal morning. He cocked his head at the monster, squinting. “What are you looking at, you big bitch?”

Virgil inhaled sharply through his teeth, but the monster didn’t react beyond its forehead plates shifting back up, and before long, it was looking down at a strange grey cube, flicking talons along its surface like it was a touchscreen.

In his section, Remus had unfolded to his ridiculous full height, and was ambling up to the wall separating them. He smiled, something about it vaguely unhinged. “Hmm, hallucinations aren’t supposed to be this expansive! It’s almost like we’re actually here, captured by giant monsters that are probably going to stick us in a blender for a morning smoothie!”

The snakelike man rubbed his temples, still holding onto his composure. He didn’t dignify the gory statement with a response, but Virgil was more than happy to.

“Hey, it was Remus, right?” Virgil asked, and he saw the man nodding enthusiastically in the corner of his vision. “Please shut the hell up.”

“Never been very good at that!”

—-

Roman glanced up from the data sheet, watching as the new specimens wandered about and made little noises at each other. He couldn’t help but hum a bit at the sight; the little animals were so charming.

“Roman!” a familiar voice trilled, and he turned to the lab’s entrance, clicking in greeting at the sight of his partners. Though he’d been uncertain about working with beings from other quadrants at first, they’d managed to overcome most of their original hurdles and now worked smoothly together. There was nobody he’d rather have as his research team, even with the disapproving twitch in Logan’s ears.

“Dear friends,” he returned, gesturing widely and making all the specimens freeze up again. “I swear I haven’t opened a single sect, only gazed upon our newest finds. You’re going to love them Patton, they have the strangest little noises.”

The Nilh wasted no time in scampering forwards, just barely prevented from bumping the enclosure by Logan’s tail tugging him back slightly. “Oh, they’ve already started communicating with each other? What about body language, did you have the vidfeed on?”

“Yes, and of course,” Roman gestured with a pointed flourish, “I have also followed procedures and had the cam on since I entered the lab, treasured nerds.”

Logan’s hand flicked in an exasperated gesture, but his ears were no longer angled down, so Roman counted it as a win. Patton tugged the Glanrim closer by the tail, using his multitude of hands to push him into his spot. “Look, Lo! I think this one is threat displaying at me! They’re all acting so differently, it’s going to be so exciting to figure out what sort of sounds they use!”

Despite his professional demeanor, Logan’s eyes all widened with excitement as he bent slightly to inspect their samples. “There’s quite a variety in patterns and sizes as well,” he observed, voice low and resonant. The little creatures all seemed to stiffen at it. “I would almost believe them different species entirely if not for the similar body structure.”

“They’ve even got little primitive outfits, see?” Roman pointed towards the calm one in the middle, eyeing the seams. “There must be a bonding purpose for it, like how some mammalian animals will use pigment-dyes for enhancing appearance to attract mates. The real question is, how did they all end up looking so different? Which one is closest to the traits that make one desirable?”

“I don’t see any reason we can’t find out!” Patton responded brightly. “We’ve got three samples, one for each of us, so what say we each get started on recording all the information we can!”

“We only have three specimens, so it’s important that we don’t push too far with any of them. This is only preliminary work,” Logan cautioned. “That said, I agree. The sooner we begin, the better.”

“I’ll take the yellow one!” Roman immediately chimed in, his wings vibrating slightly inside his suit.

—

“There’s three of us, and three of them, so of course they’re going to eat us.” Remus remained blithely oblivious to Virgil’s glower. “It’s lucky there’s not one more, otherwise we’d have to rock-paper-scissors on who gets torn in half.”

Of course, this was the moment that the monsters stopped their odd, chitter-click-buzz noises to turn back to the container, and the first monster, the red one, began to fiddle with the side of the glass. Virgil started to breathe heavily as there was mechanical clicking around them, and then the ground under their feet shifted slightly.

Without another second of suspense, Red reached under the box and slid the middle section out like a book from a shelf. The man in formalwear went with it, stumbling slightly and pressing against the glass for balance.

“Oh hey, you got the freaky insect one,” Remus said, waving cheerily. “Hope your death is really cool and gory! Try not to make it cooler or gorier than mine though!”

“Very helpful,” the man hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes slightly panicked. Virgil stumbled forwards to the front of his section as though he could reach the other human through the glass, terror chilling him. It was a pointless gesture, but as he was carried out of sight, the man offered him a nod anyways.

Remus seemed to be unfortunately correct about them being split up, since next the one with the six arms and rocky skin pried the tall man’s section out and left with it as well. That left Virgil with the last one, a monster whose face was covered in neat fur and long whiskers. It looked at him with way too many eerie slitted pupils, and Virgil couldn’t help but compare it to a predatory big cat. Maybe several predatory big cats.

Its gaze was nothing compared to its size, of course, and Virgil couldn’t help but drop to a crouch, curling in on himself as gloved hands curled around the glass box he was stuck in and lifted it with ease.

The floor of the box was transparent, and he stared at the dizzying drop to the floor the whole transferring process. When there was finally solid ground beneath him again, he looked up and found that his box had been placed on a sterile, shining counter.

Before he could get much of a read on his surroundings, a shadow darkened the floor around him, and he barely got to flinch before cool fingers were descending on him, lifting him from the box.

The hold was firm and clinical; his arms pinned to his sides, and a finger under his chin to prevent biting. The pressure on his throat was just slightly too much, and Virgil let out a choked cough, struggling to breathe through his panic.

Thankfully, it only lasted for a moment. In the next, he was released, and his hands and knees met a solid surface. He scrambled to his feet, glancing around.

The bad news was that he was out of the relative safety of the glass box. The worse news was that he appeared to be in a warped version of a hedge maze, walls and corners twisting around him. The worst news was that the monster was still present, and now it was manipulating some kind of square device.

A heartbeat later, the walls around him started to buzz ominously, making the hair on the back of his neck rise up as he pictured every Saw movie he’d ever seen.

“Fuuuuck this,” he muttered, shifting to his feet and starting down the nearest path. He alternated between making sure he didn’t get too close to the walls and making sure the monster hadn’t moved or otherwise acted suspiciously. The creature was watching him unerringly every time he looked up, and having all those eyes on him didn’t help his increasing unease at all.

As he turned a corner, he was faced with something new, and automatically ducked away in case it was going to start shooting at him. The small orb continued to sit in the middle of the path innocently, at just the right height to take out someone’s achilles heel.

Virgil shuddered and turned around, backtracking to the last fork in the path. He wasn’t messing with monster traps, no fucking way.

Above him, the monster seemed to sigh slightly.

—-

“... just too timid,” Logan was saying when Patton re-entered the main area of the lab. “The specimen didn’t engage in a single puzzle during our session, not even one.”

“What a puzzling situation!” Patton chimed in, carefully slotting his own specimen unit back into the container. Inside, the little creature continued to make a bizarre assortment of calls, not even in Patton’s direction.

Logan exhaled shortly. “Am I to assume that your insistence on wordplay means that you had greater successes than us?”

“Well, you could go with that, but you know what they say about assuming!” he replied, tucking a pair of arms behind his back as he wandered over to the others. “The little guy seemed pretty aggressive, so I tried to see if there were any specific threat calls I could make out, but… it almost never repeated. Either they have very complex body language that I’m missing or my little friend is a few sticks short of a tree!”

The other two looked disheartened, and the linguist glanced over at Roman. “You two didn’t have any luck, either?”

“No. My specimen barely participated in the trials I set up, and so I haven’t discerned what level of intelligence we are working with yet,” Logan gritted out, ears flat.

Patton tilted his head slightly. “Not even the treat ball? Most sentient life forms have no trouble with that one.”

“No, no interaction at all. It may be worth looking for more compelling bait…”

Roman cut in, antennae flicking in displeasure. “Anyways, mine was uncooperative too! I was trying to get a few samples of their outer shells to see what the fabric is constructed of, but it was so resistant after just one layer that I started getting worried that maybe removing any more would actually harm it.”

“Good. Better not to risk damaging them.” Logan turned to the units, nose twitching as he thought. “There are other non-invasive tests we can try, but results might shift if we try different samples for different tests.”

Roman click-buzzed in complaint. “That could take forever, though! We’re supposed to be coming up with significant research, not trading specimens around!”

“Maybe, instead, we could observe all of them at the same time,” Patton suggested, getting both of his teammates’ attention. “After all, isn’t controlled engagement with multiple specimens one of the tests?”

Roman and Logan exchanged a look, before the latter inclined his chin, slowly. “It’s worth an attempt, at least. Just watch carefully for any signs of aggression. They can’t harm us, but they could certainly harm each other.”

---

By the time the monsters finally decided to put them all in a penned-in space with each other, Virgil was almost too exhausted to be worried. Almost.

He shuffled away from where the three bizarre creatures were looming over them, but carefully remained out of grabbing distance from the other two humans. He wasn’t stupid; he barely knew these people.

“Aliens,” Remus greeted them, holding his hands up in an exaggerated pose. “I’ve totally cracked it.”

“You’ve totally cracked,” Virgil shot back, but most of his attention was on the well-dressed man. Or, formerly well-dressed, since now he appeared to have had all top layers except his undershirt removed. “Hey, what happened?”

“Oh, is it not obvious?” the man hissed, arms crossed tightly. “I’ve been robbed. Clearly, this must all have been an elaborate mugging for my blazer and button up.”

Remus cackled. “Yeah right! That suit is cheap as hell!”

The man rolled his eyes, and Virgil couldn’t help but notice the way he was shaking. It didn’t seem like a fear shake, not with this man’s demeanor. “Okay, but are you okay? You seem, uh, cold.”

“Of course I’m not cold. Why ever would a half-dressed, anemic man in a glass box be cold?” the man snapped. One of the aliens moved slightly, and their gazes all flickered up for a moment.

Once it became clear no grabbing was happening, Virgil sighed lowly, pulling at his zipper and shifting the sleeves of his hoodie off. “You’re kind of a bitch, huh?”

The man snapped his head around, opening his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but Virgil interrupted him by tossing the hoodie at his face. “Excuse m-- oof!”

“Don’t spill anything on it,” Virgil muttered, ignoring the man’s perplexed stare. “You can pay me back with your name.”

“... It’s Dee.”

---

“Did you see that?” Patton bounced on his toes, tugging at Roman’s talons. “It gave away it’s covering!”

“Astonishing,” Roman replied, not tearing his eyes away. “Is it a social hierarchy thing? Did you see any familiar dominance displays?”

“I… didn’t, actually,” Patton replied, face scrunching in perplexion. “Maybe this one is less attached?”

“No.” They both turned to Logan, whose eyes had gone wide. “It was an act of assistance. The yellow specimen was shaking, likely from temperature exposure due to losing some of it’s covering. It was… kindness.”

“Woah, what?” Roman clicked, antennae perking up. “But that would mean--”

“Look!”

At Patton’s cry, they all watched as the other specimen seemed to attack, almost jumping forwards to intervene. At the last moment, Patton’s arms pulled them back. “No, wait!”

Though the small, gangly creature had flopped onto the shorter one, the action seemed to elicit no pained cry or battle screech, only mild grumbles as the two readjusted in their impromptu pile. The one that had given away its covering made a face before carefully folding into a sitting position as well, a seat that kept it between the aliens and the other specimens.

“These specimens were all pulled from different locations,” Logan half-stated, half-asked. Roman nodded, eyes wide. “They can’t be nestmates. What in the galaxy is this?”

“They’re sapient,” Patton blurted, a hand pressed to his mouth. “The sounds, they’re too complex because they’re not calls, they’re words. Language.”

“Language? But, the planet was said to only contain primitive lifeforms!” Roman protested, wings flaring up in agitation. “You’re telling me… Oh man.”

“The heat sharing, the communication, even the extreme caution shown in unfamiliar circumstances,” Logan spoke slowly, as though warming up to the idea. “It… does seem to be a potential explanation.”

They all looked back to the tiny bipeds, now seeing their every action in a new light.

“Well, there’s only one way to be sure,” Patton said, lifting up a hand and waving it slowly in a generic friendly gesture. “We’ll just have to figure it out for ourselves, using our own judgement.”

After a long moment, one of the specimens-- no, aliens-- waved back.

#sanders sides #g/t #space au #giant/tiny #ts virgil #ts patton #ts roman #ts logan #ts deceit #ts remus #writing #my writing #commissioned works #aliens #this is not part of wibar! diff universe entirely :P #ask to tag #not always what they seem #nawts

971 notes · View notes

drrrsankai-blog · 3 years

Text

Reality TV Show Writing Meme!

Rules:

- Choose 6 OC's canon characters.

- Put your OC's names in list of numbers and answer the questions with your OC's names instead of the number, write at least 100 words to answer.

- Once an OC is evicted, you must choose the next consecutive number to fill in the question. E.g. If [1] is evicted, choose [2]. If [6] is evicted, go back round to [1]. (I fucked this part up but idc)

Cast:

1. Aoba

2. Shizuo

3. Namie

4. Ran

5. Shingen

6. Erika

Warning:

OOC (gets worse as it goes along honestly), c r a c k, dark humor, insanity, and Namie being Namie (and Erika being Erika...).

1. Welcome to the House! Introduce the OC's and what their luxury item would be.

[1] Aoba: Luxury item? A pool.

[2] Shizuo: Another pack of cigarettes. *doesn't know what it is*

[3] Namie: Well, there's not much of anything that comes to mind... except a fine night out with my darling Seiji~

[4] Ran: Fucking ew.

[5] Shingen: Hmm...hm, hm, hm. I need to think about this one...

[6] Erika: All the doujinshis on my wishlist!

2. There are 3 bedrooms, 1 with 2 double beds, 1 with 2 single beds and 1 with only 2 matresses on the floor. Who pairs up with whom, is there an argument over who should get the better room, and how is this resolved?

No one's happy, except Erika who comments that it feels like a sleepover (and Ran who yells out that 'we're literally living together for this'). However, Namie has already grabbed Erika's arm to lead her into the room with two single beds, because 'the only man she'll sleep in a room with is Seiji'. Erika doesn't get time to object before the door slams behind them. Leaving only the other four...

Shingen rubs his chin, trying to decide which remaining options were better. If he chose the room with the double bed, he surmised he might get lonely since there'd be no other weight in it, so the mattresses on the floor sounded like a better option.

Shizuo heads into the room with the double beds. No one follows him in.

Aoba and Ran look at each other, mutually scowling the thought of having to share a room with the blonde, then scowl at each other. Ultimately, they decide on taking the room with the mattresses on the floor.

By the time Shingen makes his decision, he finds everyone gone and the room he had decided on occupied. With a droop of his shoulder and a small, disappointed sigh, he heads into the double-bedded room with Heiwajima.

Then...

"Wait a minute, this is my house! Why the hell don't I get to call the shots?!"

Namie, laying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, hearing Shingen's voice: What an idiot.

3. Now they've decided where they're sleeping, they make their way to the living room but find that it is empty expect for a few large and heavy boxes which hold the furniture which [1] and [4] have been told to put together within a time limit, how well do they do?

Aoba: Do I look like someone with a body who can handle all this hard labor?

Ran: Thanks a fucking lot, pipsqueak.

Aoba: Seriously. Why can't we make Heiwajima do it?

Ran: Because he'll crush our fucking skulls?

Aoba: Oh.

Aoba: Well, if I told him you asked, then I'll both live and not have to do it.

Ran: *throws an empty box at him*

4. The furniture's together, now for dinner and a rest! [2] and [5] are designated for cooking first. What do they cook? Do they work well together? Does their cooking go down well?

Shingen: *wearing an apron, flattening dough with a rolling pin* I'm baking a cake~! Teehee~

Sheenwuh: *walks through the door, notices Shingen, and then walks back out it*

Shizuo: Um.

Shizuo just sits on the couch eating potato chips instead.

5. A few days pass and a relationship is growing between [3] and [6], is it a good one or is it a bad one? What measures are made to make their relationship blossom, or stop them from attacking each other on sight?

Erika: *talking nonstop about BL, cosplay, and anime*

Namie's internal dialogue: [shut up shut up SHUT THE FUCK UP]

Namie ends up leaving, throwing Shingen out and angrily informing Heiwajima he has a new roommate.

Shizuo is actually taken aback and does not argue.

6. A week has passed and it's time for an eviction! Someone hasn't put in their penny's worth and needs to be gotten rid of. Choose one OC, and have them say their weepy, or exuberant, goodbyes.

Ran: Good fucking riddance.

Namie: *bored voice, dull tone* I'm so sad.

Erika: Aw, maybe next time. :(

Shizuo: Do I know you?

Shingen: Do I know you either?

Aoba: I'm a student. I don't have a job. I can't pay rent. What do you expect?

7. There's a siren in the middle of the night! [1] has tried to escape with [3] as accomplice, however they are both caught, who blames whom, and what is their punishment? Do the other house-mates suffer for it?

Aoba: I'm still here?

Ran: You're still here? Great.

Namie: Why did I agree to this...?

Shingen: For money?

Everyone looked at the floor where there were several pieces of glass from the window having been broken.

Shingen: Well, if you win, you can use it to pay me back~!

Namie: Can't wait...

8. The next task appointed for them arrives in the form of a letter and a pack of bendy wires. They pick up the letter and read that housemates [2] and [4] must make a cube using the fewest number of wires possible within 30 minutes of time. Do they manage it?

Ran: What the fuck? Why?

Shizuo: Uh, nah.

9. That evening, they find alcohol in the refridgerator and a karaoke machine in the living room. However, it is incredibly hard to set up and it's instructions are in Japanese. [5] and [6] are bullied into geting it sorted. How do they get on?

Erika: *staring hard at the instructions* Well, I recognize the characters... It's just...

Shingen: Those bastards! This isn't the version I ordered!

Erika: ...this is in Chinese, not Japanese.

10. Eviction time! Eviction this time is based upon house-mates behaviour and performance in the last week, and sadly, [1] and [3]'s escape attempt has not impressed the higher hand. [1] or [3] must go, choose, and have them say goodbye.

Aoba: I thought I left 6 questions ago...?

Namie: *leaves without a second thought*

Shingen: What about my window???

Shingen looked at Aoba who merely shrugged his shoulders. Then it occrured to him...

"You two were really going to climb down from a 30 story building...?"

"The danger makes it exciting."

Namie, thinking to herself: I was thinking of just going down the fire escape, but okay.

11. Confessions Time! Having been together for two weeks, how do the house-mates feel about the others? How do they feel about the evictions? Let's listen to them now.

Erika: Kishitani-san is okay for a roommate. He's kind of odd, though...

Ran: You want to talk about being weird?

Shingen: You're okay yourself, Karisawa. A bit hard to follow, but okay.

Ran: My little rat-think of a brother is finally gone. Couldn't be better.

*phone rings*

Shingen: Hold on a moment.

Shingen: Hello?

Sheenwuh: Dad, when can I come home?

Shingen: Anytime, son.

Sheenwuh: No, I mean, when is whatever's going on over?

Shingen: Can't hear you either, son, roger. *hangs up*

Shizuo: ...

Shizuo: Do I have to be here or can I leave too?

12. [1] and [4] have become very close, and [6] is jealous and decides to confront [4] about it, what happens?

Erika: Wow, so you miss your brother after all~!

Ran: What??

Aoba: *peeks through hole in the wall* Peekaboo!

Ran: *screams*

Erika: Ah, brotherly love... I think that'll be the next BL manga theme I read about...!

Shizuo:

Shizuo: I've decided that I'm killing myself instead.

13. Their next task is to simply tidy the house, however, they have to do it blindfold, [5] cheats and [2] does nothing, such disobedience so late in the game earns them a time-out and their luxury item is taken away, how do they cope?

Shingen: Ooh~! Kinky.

Shizuo: I'm going to be next to jump out this fucking window I swear to god--

Erika: (But nobody actually jumped out the window...);

14. Due to the cheating in the previous task, the electricity in the building is cut, and the living room is locked off from them. [4] suggests a game of hide-and-seek, does anyone get injured in the dark? Does anyone take this moment to be naughty with another housemate?

Ran: Anyone wanna play Hide-and-Get-Hammered?

Shingen: Is that a drinking game, I see?

Ran: Heh.

Erika: I'm pretty that's not how it's played... or what Izumii-kun means... *she inclines her head, trying to see if Ran's holding something behind him*

15. The living room is open to them again and inside is a television, an XBOX and four Guitar Hero guitars, a not stuck on the television let's them know that it is a play-off between [3] and [6].

Who wins, and did they realise the loser would be evicted?!

Neither of the two are particularly interested in video games, but it gets pretty heated between them (Ran and Erika). Ran calls her a "fujo bitch" throughout, and Erika wins by sticking her bare foot in his lap and freaking him out, causing him to fall onto the floor (and into the loser's seat).

Ran: Yeah, whatever. Fuck this.

Erika: Well, Kishitani-san, it looks like it's just you and me.

Shingen: That it seems.

Shizuo: Uh, guys... I'm still here...

16. With only three house-mates left, tension starts to rise, [1] becomes super-competitive and starts taking over any tasks given to them. [1] accepts a task before even hearing it, and it's challenging them to sit in a bath of maggots for half an hour.

How does [1] react and do they complete the task?

Shizuo: That's fucking disgusting.

Erika: But you said you'd do anything...

Shizuo: *stares at her, eyebrow twitching*

Erika: ...OK.

17. Another Confession. Poor [2] is starting to suffer from cabin fever and is sure the others are out to get them. Let's listen to their ranting.

Shizuo: You know what? Fuck these nutjobs. *leaves*

18. The house-mates realise they are quite quickly running out of food, and find three unlabelled tins in a cupboard, with blindfolds next to them and a letter explaining that two tins are sliced peaches, one is dog-food, they must each choose a tin with their blindfolds on.

Who gets the dog-food, and evicted?

Erika: *walking in the direction of Kadota's place, smiling* Aw, I hope Dotachin's dog will like this brand...

19. The final task denotes the winner of the entire game, the final two house-mates are given an envelope, inside is the instrutions of their last task, they simply are.

"Choose."

Does this shock them? Do they choose themselves as the winner or the other? Do they give their own victory up, or are they selfish?

"Dad, I fucking live here."

"Hmm. I guess that makes both of us the victors, then?"

"Dad, why is there no food in the house?" the brunette asks, looking through the fridge. Then he looks towards the balcony and nearly screams.

"WHY IS THE WINDOW BROKEN???"

20. Now it's (quite abruptly) over, tag someone!

I will not but you can steal it. xD

#Aoba #Shingen #Erika #Namie #Ran #writing memes #I am tired goodnight

10 notes · View notes

love-fireflysong · 3 years

Text

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

"I love you. I'm—"

"I love you."

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

#my writing #pride month prompt challenge #until dawn #chris hartley #ashley brown #chrashley #is a sad heartbreaking story #lik dis if you cry #asdsakjdasd

19 notes · View notes