#it took me three hours from start to finish to actually get this posted sigh
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Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 20: FINAL
So guess what I realized this morning. Today, November 13, 2023 is the one year anniversary of me posting my first DPxDC fic to tumblr. It was the original fill for this very fic. (Which you can find here.)
So I decided I just had to finish this arc and get it posted. This year has been amazing and so much fun. I've become a much better writer and joined a community that has brought me so much joy. I'm glad to be here and I'm glad so many of you like to read what I'm sharing.
I noticed I got a few new readers over the past week or so, so welcome to all of you! Hope you enjoy this early update!
In personal news, my nephew was born and he's adorable and I'll be meeting him tomorrow! (As soon as I'm done posting this, I'm off to make food for his mom.)
Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.
Arc 1
Arc 2: Part 1, Previous
Word Count: 1.2k
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In the end, it ended up taking several hours for Danny, Sam, and Tucker to escape their families and converge on the park. In that time, Tim had called Bruce to let him know he’d be back in Gotham by tomorrow and finished most of his homework.
While he worked, Wulf and Bart were having an animated conversation in Esperanto.
Tim was pretty sure Wulf would be bringing Bart to the Ghost Zone for a tour sometime and started making plans to learn Esperanto himself and bribe Bart to get in on them.
Cassie was helping Conner sort through some of the music Sam had given him. Tim was jealous as he solved more banal trig questions. Why did school have to be so boring? He tapped his pencil on the paper in time to the beat of whatever music Conner had playing.
Tucker was the first to arrive. “Danny and Sam not here yet?” he asked as he plopped down next to Bart and Wulf.
“Nope. Haven’t heard from them, either,” said Tim. He opened his phone notifications again just to be sure, but there was nothing new.
Tucker shrugged and pulled out a stick of jerkey to munch on. “Not surprising. The Fentons will be all overprotective after the mayor was kidnapped by a ghost on live TV. And Sam’s parents are just as bad. Only they smother rather than check the weaponry.” He turned to greet Wulf in Esperanto.
An email came through on Tim’s phone and he groaned. “Our evening interview was canceled. No one wants to hear us try to defend Phantom anymore.”
Cassie cursed. “Course not. Bet the paper won’t publish our editorials either.”
Conner looked over, confused. “Won’t they? Clark works for the Daily Planet. They publish stuff like that all the time.”
Tim didn’t look up from his math as he answered, “That’s the difference between a big, Pulitzer winning publication and a small-town op-ed.”
Tucker sighed. “Well maybe someone will remember your interviews from this morning in a positive light.”
Bart rolled his eyes. “Come on, we can’t change it. So let’s move forward. Next step, make friends with more ghosts! Wulf says there’s a bunch of cool people in the Realms.”
“Realms?” asked Tim.
“It’s what he says the Ghost Zone is actually called. The Infinite Realms.”
“Huh. I’ll have to check JL databases, see if they have any information on them.”
Tucker asked something in Esperanto and Bart burst out laughing as Wulf looked on in confusion.
With Bart’s help, though, he rephrased until Wulf was able to reply. And then the three kept to Esperanto. Tim really had to find time to learn it.
Sam was the next to arrive. She grinned and sat down next to Conner. “How you liking the music?”
Conner grinned and showed her the sheets where he ranked the bands so far based on which songs he’d listened to. She then took over the speakers and searched for specific tracks to try and change his mind about some of the bands he liked the least.
Tim let his eyes close as his friends’ voices washed over him.
After some indeterminate time where he dozed between sleeping and awareness, a foot nudged his hip. Tim grumbled out what was supposed to be a, “What?” but was too mumbled to really be understood.
“Come on, Secrets. You can do better than that.”
Tim cracked an eye open to see Danny grinning down at him. He pushed himself up slightly and blinked heavily in the sunlight.
“Finally got away from your parents?” asked Tim.
Danny collapsed on the ground next to him. “Ugh, don’t remind me. They’re freaking out over everything that’s happened the last few days. Jazz and I are basically going to be on lock down until they feel confident the ghosts are gone.”
“Did you have to sneak out to get here?” asked Cassie.
Danny shook his head. “No, I told them I was going to find you guys to make sure you were all safe. You’re welcome to come back to ours tonight, by the way. Mom and Dad basically insisted on it.”
“What do you guys think?” asked Tim. “Spend one more night here at Danny’s and head out in the morning?”
Cassie sighed. “My mom’s already freaking out that I’ve been gone longer than planned. I should get back tonight.”
“I’ll stay,” offered Conner. “I’m your ride home, anyway.”
“Why don’t you come to my place, Conner,” offered Sam. “Your nails need a fresh coat after fighting today. And I need teach you about the different brands of makeup and what to look for in terms of cost, quality, and ethicality. Plus I can get you more music.”
Tim laughed when Conner looked to him. “Go for it. Have fun.”
Conner grinned. “Then yeah, let’s do it!”
Bart shrugged. “Wulf is going to go back to the Realms soon. I’ll head out after. Wally and Linda want me over for a family dinner tonight.”
“Well, looks like that’s it, then,” sighed Danny. “Been fun having other heroes around.”
Tim nudged his shoulder. “Join the Young Justice. You could join us and we'd help out whenever you wanted. Get you around people who actually appreciate what you do for them.”
But Danny was already shaking his head. “I have to stay here. And now Amity trusts heroes even less. I want to improve that, not make it worse.”
“Even if you don’t join,” declared Conner. “You’re not getting rid of us now.”
Bart nodded his agreement. “Yep. We’re gonna be stopping by all the time. You’re in the group chat.”
“Exactly,” agreed Tim. “And we’ll figure out ways to help you. Starting with how to minimize property damage. That seems to be the big thing people focus on. You can make shields, right? How big can you make them and how much power do they take?”
Danny smiled wryly. “Can’t say I’ve really tested it.”
Tim laughed. “Well, I know one thing we’re doing tonight. We’re going to go back to Nasty Burger—” Tim looked around at the whole group “—all of us. Then Cassie and Bart are going to go home. Danny and I, at least, are going to take a nap. Then we’re gonna test the current limits to Danny’s powers.”
Danny bumped their shoulders together. “You know, this is just like gaming with you all those years.”
“Yeah, well, it’s best to be thorough.”
“We’ve measured, like, his top speed and stuff,” said Tucker, pulling out a PDA. “Want to see what we’ve got so far?”
“Absolutely.” Tim took the device and looked through it. “You’ve a decent amount of information here. Maybe instead of taking a nap, I’ll help you organize it and come up with a testing plan.”
Conner flew over to him and pulled the PDA out of his hand. “Not after pulling an all-nighter you won’t. We’re going to get some food, then the two of you are going to sleep for at least four hours.”
“I’ll set Jazz on you, too,” threatened Sam. “Don’t think I won’t.”
Tim pouted as the device was given back to Tucker. And grumbled more when Conner picked him up and threw him over his shoulder.
“Come on, food time.”
“I am going to put kryptonite in your phone,” threatened Tim.
“Bingo!” shouted Cassie.
Danny laughed as he stood. “Does this mean I can join the next round?”
Tim scowled. “Traitors, all of you.”
-----
Next
And that's the end of this Arc! Arc 3 will pick up where the original fill did. (Only this time, Tim won't be the only DC character there to help Danny.)
I'd say something like I can't believe it's only been a year, but so much has happened to me in the last twelve months that it feels like a lifetime ago, to be honest. But it's been a good year and I'm glad this community has been part of it.
Please follow the subscription post if you want updates for when I start transferring this arc to AO3 or begin posting Arc 3.
#dpxdc#bring me home#my writing#i cant believe i've finally got to the end#i've really enjoyed writing this arc#even if parts of it were challenging#its been a fantastic journey#it's been a year#how wild#12 months#365 days#and i'm thrilled#thank you for following me on this journey#you've all made it completely worth it
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I am IN LOVE with your writing!  I’m a dedicated reader! 💓💓 thanks for taking the time to do it!
Hear me out. Reader pulls a 24 hour shift in the local clinic on a busy day and we get a protective worried din?
He would also be busy but he would definitely pull reader out and make her take a nap AT LEAST. 😂 anyway, I just thought that would be cute to think about.
I hope you have a wonderful day and keep up the good work! 
[a/n: anybody wanna guess how many times it took me to try and post this b/c tumblr wanted to keep glitching and destroying it?? FUCKING FOUR. lord, im gonna go scream in a pillow. anyways, thanks anon for the great idea! also pls consider this my apology for the cliffhanger that i am so sorry (but not really) for.]
'A FRESH START' DELETED SCENE
Din Djarin x Female!Reader
Warnings: reader overworks herself, mentions of injuries (burns specifically) but not in great detail
Word Count: 1,934
Summary: Everyone needs a break, and Din is hell bent on ensuring you don't skip yours.
#MID 17: TAKE A BREAK, DOC
[so not between chapters, but a scene within one of the time breaks in chapter 17.]
.
"be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but take care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that's you." -unknown
.
Trying to get the emergency clinic established was not easy. You agreed to the job, and Karga had given you free reign. The High Magistrate was essentially allowing you to run the clinic as you saw fit. Which in part was fantastic because it gave you incredible freedom, but it was also your worst nightmare. All your training had taught you was how to handle the medical aspect of an office. The business and organization side was a whole other issue. Especially because the people of Nevarro were not understanding that this was for emergencies only.
“My ankle hurts.”
“Alright, when did this start? When did you get hurt?”
“I twisted it while jogging three years ago.”
“You⏤ Wait, what?”
In order for this to work the way it needed to, you’d have to focus on actual emergencies only. Alone you would never be able to handle the patient load that would come with servicing an entire city. Plus, you really didn’t want to. The amount of time it would take to even attempt that was insane, and Din needed your help with Grogu.
So, the plan would be to establish that this clinic was emergencies only, emphasize it to everyone who walked in the door, but for today you’d manage all the small, routine problems.
Just for today.
By lunch time, you had already seen 47 patients. None of which were emergent. In fact, the biggest injury was a young man who had dropped a glass plate at home and accidentally cut his hand. He needed four stitches.
“Aayla?”
“Four more in the waiting room, doctor!” Aayla called out without even having to be asked the question. She was a gift from the Maker today. Already, you had decided to try training her more in depth medically and hire someone else to work the front desk. “You also have a guest.
“What?” You breathed, barely able to catch her words.
Aayla didn’t need to repeat herself because that was the moment Din swept into the room with the same confident strut he naturally seemed to have. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as your lips curled up into a smile.
“What is going on?” Din asked as he drifted closer to you. There were still two patients sitting on cots waiting for you to finish with them, but Din commandeered your attention by settling his hand on your lower back and staring down at you. Even through the helmet you could feel his concerned gaze. “Why are you so busy? I thought you were hired for emergencies only.”
“I was, but apparently nobody told all of Nevarro that.”
Din stiffened. “Did Karga⏤”
“No. I don’t think he tricked me into this or that this was on purpose.” You said quickly. “And everyone who comes in, I’m telling them that from now on it’s emergencies only.”
“But today?”
“Today, I am seeing every Nevarro citizen.” You chuckled. “You want a check up, Mando?”
“Ner kar’ta,” Din shook his head, “Have you taken any breaks at all?” You shot him a sheepish smile. “Come. Let’s get lunch.”
“I can’t. I’ll just get further behind.” You mumbled. Din looked like he was ready to argue with you. In fact, his hands even drifted to his hips as his head tilted. You had seen him take on the same stance before lecturing Grogu. You wrapped your hands around his forearm and gave him the most reassuring smile you could muster. “It’s fine. I’m just sorry I’m bailing on you for lunch.” He sighed. “You poor thing, now you’ll have to spend more time with Mayfeld.”
Din huffed and you chuckled. Aayla called out that more people were filling the space, and for a second you thought the Mandalorian Marshal was considering sending everybody home just so you could have a moment for lunch. You squeezed his forearm.
“Fine.” Din grumbled.
“Also, I know this won’t help my argument or convince you of anything, but,” You scrunched your nose with a small wince, “Do you think you can pick up Grogu today?”
Din seemed taken aback based on his voice alone, “How long do you plan on staying?”
You knew his question was one more focused on the concern of you staying here for too long versus him being upset that you couldn’t get Grogu. When you shot him another sheepish smile he just grumbled under his breath in Mando’a. Din caught you off guard by leaning forward to lightly rest his forehead against yours for a second.
“This conversation isn’t over.” Din said simply and you just chuckled in response.
He squeezed your hand once before leaving and you were forced to return to the patients you had. Ten minutes passed at the most, you got two patients out with Aayla’s help, when Din’s heavy footfalls returned. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was holding a bag of food. He crossed the space to set the bag in your hands and you peered in to see it was your favorite sandwich from the local shop. Your eyes glanced back up at him with a grin. The warmth of being seen and known settling in your chest.
“Eat.” Din said firmly.
“Thank you.” You replied. “I’ll eat it as soon as⏤”
“No.” He interrupted. A tilt to his head and a challenge in his voice. “I’m not leaving until I watch you take a few bites. At the least.”
You rolled your eyes, in good nature, and handed him the bag so you could wash your hands in the sink off to the side. On your way back to Din, you asked Aayla to bandage one patient’s knee and get imaging of another patient’s hand. Din had already pulled out your sandwich to set on the desk you had brought into the corner. Before you could reach for it, Din pointed to the desk chair. With a chuckle you dropped down into the seat, the first time you were off your feet all morning, and only then did Din push the sandwich toward you.
“Thanks.” You said after your first bite. More sincere than your last. Din was leaning against the desk beside you. Close enough that your arm could press against his thigh if you moved it over even an inch. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Apparently, I did.” Din chuckled. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have eaten at all.”
You couldn't argue. Instead, you just shook your head, “Not gonna lie, I always did have a bad habit of getting caught up in my work.”
“Why does that not surprise me?”
“Doctor, can you take a look at this?” Aayla called out.
You quickly took one last, large bite of your sandwich before standing. Din pushed off the desk to tower over you again. He nodded. “I’ll pick up Grogu, but if you’re not home by 5 I’m coming back to drag you home.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?” You teased.
Din leaned over to lightly tap his forehead against yours and you chuckled. He reached over to pick up your sandwich and held it up towards you. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t budge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned over and took another bite. Holding a hand over your mouth, tucking the food into your cheek, you spoke. “Happy?”
“Yes. Be careful. Message me if you need anything.”
You watched him leave with a bemused smile.
Never before had you been so acutely aware of the saying ‘when it rains, it pours’. Today had already been stressful and busy so it would make sense that at 4:25 in the afternoon an actual emergency rolled in. Nothing to test and stretch your skills like having to handle a trauma case after a full day of working. There had been an incident, on the other side of this world deep in the lava plains, where a group of smugglers got a bit too close to a river of lava with their weapons and nearly blew one another sky high.
The least injured of the three had flown them in. She had some superficial burns all along her left side. Then the other two had third degree burns that required some serious fluid replacement. You didn’t stop working, barely paused to take a breath, until all three were stable and resting comfortably. Only then did you drop down into your desk’s chair and rest your head on your arms with a sigh.
About twenty minutes later, a pair of hands settled on your shoulders, squeezing in comfort, and you would’ve been startled if you didn’t recognize the creak of Din’s leather with the comforting smell of his flight suit’s detergent and the polish used on his beskar.
“What time is it?” You groaned.
“8:42.”
“You’re nearly four hours late.”
Din squeezed your shoulders once more before letting a hand settle on the back of your neck. You found the weight of it grounded you. “I got here at 4:50. Saw you were busy with something important. Left then came back.” His thumb caressed your skin, and you pushed your head up to glance at him. Din had the hand not on your neck resting on the desk. “You alright?”
“Just tired.” You mumbled and rubbed your face with one hand. “Grogu?”
“He’s with Peli. Missed you at dinner though.” Din replied. “He acts up when you’re not around.”
“No, no. He’s a perfect angel, always.”
Din snorted at that, and the sound made you chuckle. You glanced over at the cots that held the three smugglers who slept soundly. All their vitals still stable. Din’s hand slipped down to rub your upper back soothingly. “You coming home?”
“I can’t. Not until the emergency shuttle gets here to pick those three up.” You sighed. “They have to be at a facility with a higher level of care than just me.”
“‘Just you’ saved their lives.”
“You know what I mean.” You shrugged. “You should go though.” Din tilted his head. “There’s no telling how long it’ll take for the ship to get here. I already sent Aayla home. I’m just babysitting right now. You should pick up Grogu and head home. Get some sleep.”
Din shook his head as if it were the stupidest thing you had ever said. He gently wrapped his hand around your upper arm and pulled you up from your seat. You let him drag you along to the fourth cot in the room which was currently empty. “You sleep. I’ll babysit.”
“Din…”
He lightly pushed down on your shoulders until you were seated on the cot. You stared up at him in question, but he just shook his head. “If something changes with their status I’ll wake you.” Din pushed you down a little further so you were laying down. The moment your body hit the relatively soft bed you felt yourself sink into it with exhaustion. Din went to walk, but you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the cot as well.
“You can babysit while laying down, can’t you?”
“My armor isn’t gonna be much of a pillow.”
“Neither is this cot.”
Din chuckled and dropped down to lay beside you. You rested your head on his chest, the cool metal of the beskar biting into your warm cheek, and just sighed. It hadn’t occurred to you how tired you truly were until now. Din had an arm wrapped around you so he could grasp your shoulder with his hand and use his thumb to trace patterns there.
“Take a break, doc.” Din hummed. “I got you.”
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@stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis
#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x you#din djarin x reader#mando#mando x reader#mando x you#reader insert#female reader#mandalorian fanfic#mandalorian x you#mandalorian x reader#fluff#comfort#nanny!reader#doctor!reader
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the russian starlette (prelude)
summary: after taking a job at starcourt, you accidentally get entangled with russians underneath the mall who decided to experiment on you, causing you to gain telekinetic powers
pairing: female!henderson!reader x eddie munson x steve harrington?
cw: none
word count: 1.0k
a/n: this part of the fic takes place in s3/the summer of 1985 and follows the storyline of s3 closely
✰ part one: the prelude
✰ part two: the experiment
✰ part three: the return (coming soon)
masterlist
i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission
。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
god you wish you never took that stupid job at starcourt mall, but steve was a little too convincing...
"c'mon y/n, we'll go in, apply to a couple of places and if we hear back that's great and then you can save up for a car and i'll save up for college or whatever" steve explained as you sat in his car outside the mall
the engine was turned off, leaving you to contemplate in the silence, your head leaning against the window and your body facing him in the drivers seat
"i don't know steve... a job at the mall?" you questioned and he looked at you with eyes sweeter than honey
"look, you've been saying yourself you feel bad i'm driving you everywhere and that your mom would meet you halfway on the price of a car" he said, using your own words against you
"yeah and eddie's not around to drive me too" you said sadly
you sighed
okay fine, part of the reason you didn't want to get a job at starcourt was because your boyfriend eddie was touring around america with some new band called guns n' roses and it made you feel like the biggest loser that you're stuck in the the middle of nowhere indiana working at a mall
but you knew steve was right, and that you couldn't depend on eddie to drive you to school anymore, and that you felt bad that steve had been driving the two of you around the past few months
you knew you needed the independence so you sighed, and got up, your back cracking a little in the process
"fine, let's go get a job but i'm not dealing with anything with food" you said as the two of you got out of the car and shut the doors
"yeah i'm sorry but you really just can't cook for shit" steve laughed and the two of you started walking inside
。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
after a month at working at the gap, and seeing your paycheck, things weren't too bad working at the mall
steve got his job at scoops ahoy and luckily, his schedule somehow coincided with yours so he would drive the two of you
you had talked to eddie a few times over the past week, last time you guys spoke he said he was somewhere on the east coast and he was very happy for you and your new job
of course, you still felt like a loser working at the gap in hawkins while your boyfriend is an actual rockstar but steve made the mall bareable
plus, you finally became friends with robin, a girl you would always see around school but never talked to
the three of you would hang out constantly, and you were just happy in your little life of sneaking into the movies with them, or when steve would finish up before you and bother you in the store by trying on random clothes to keep you entertained till you left an hour later
that was until dustin came home from summer camp
you had finished up early at your shift at the gap, and walked over to scoops ahoy to bother steve and robin for the remainder of their shifts
it was nearing dinner time, meaning, most people weren't getting ice cream to eat, leaving the shop empty but you heard the three of them bustling around in the back
you rang the bell, and steve opened up the small window that separated the back room from the front counter
"oh hey y/n, we're just uh- doing stuff back here..." steve said, glancing behind him and then back to you
"wait it's y/n?" you heard dustin say and suddenly his face appeared next to steve's
"come back here, quickly and calmly, i need to tell you something huge" dustin said and you did as you were told
a few minutes later, dustin had explained how he picked up a russian transmission, and that they were trying to crack a secret russian code
hours after hours, you continued to listen to the same message over and over again till eventually you all figured out they were talking about the mall
which led you to the next problem, getting past the big scary russian with a big gun guarding the door
"or i could take him out" steve said nonchalantly
"take who out?" robin questioned
"the guard?" steve replied
"did you forget the part about the big gun?" dustin asked with an annoyed tone
but that guy was the least of your worries
after the secret elevator plummeted down to a crash on the bottom floor, and all five of you slipped through the elevator doors, you were on to finding more of the russians underneath starcourt
after walking for what seemed like miles, you all stumbled upon the hub full of russian guards, scientists, doctors, along with the comms room
and of course chaos ensued again
once in the comms room, you were taken aback by seeing someone in the room with you
robin tried to say the code to the russian man before steve started screaming and charged at the man, knocking him out
"you did it! you won a fight!" dustin exclaimed before a bigger issue caught your eye, the russian's were attempting to open the gate with a large machine which instantly made your stomach drop
alarms started blaring when the guards noticed the five of you, causing panic to ensue and everyone started running
your heart was pounding as everyone scrambled to outrun the guards, steve knocking over giant steel barrels in attempts to slow them down when you all ran into a room, slamming the door behind you
steve pressed his body against the door to keep it shut
"help me!" he yelled as the you and robin ran to him, pressing against the door with all your might
you watched as dustin and erica climbed up stairs and started descending into a hole in the floor
the weight of the guards pushing back seemed to be getting greater and greater
"i'll never forget you!" dustin screamed
"go!" you all screamed in unison as dustin shut the hatch
the guards eventually pushed open the door, causing everyone to go flying
it all went in slow motion as they opened the door, the weight of the push had sent your body flying to the wall, knocking you into complete darkness
to be continued…
#stranger things#eddie munson#munsons-melody#steve harrington#dustin henderson#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x y/n#steve harrington x y/n fluff#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader
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distractions
@softblesses inspired me to actually finish and post a w/hite co/llar fic
this is part 1, there will be 1 or 2 more, we shall see
enjoy!
“So now we think Gray is… Boss? You there?” Diana waved the file she was holding in front of Peter’s face, snapping his attention back to her.
“Huh? Sorry.” He tried to focus on her but his eyes flitted away again.
Diana sighed. “What’s on your mind?”
“It’s Neal.”
She sighed even harder. “Of course. You think he’s up to something?”
“Not sure, he’s definitely hiding something. But it’s strange, he doesn’t usually make it so obvious.”
“Obvious how?”
“He didn’t say anything during the meeting, kept his eyes down the whole time, and his posture was tense. And he keeps touching his temples.”
“So he has a headache. Maybe he’s hungover,” Diana offered, eager to get the conversation back on track.
“Maybe…” He dropped it, opening the file Diana handed him and giving his thoughts.
***
Over the next hour Peter’s brow furrowed more and more as he watched Neal disappear into the bathroom once, twice, three times. The third time he couldn’t take it anymore, he capped his pen and strode after his CI.
He stopped right outside the door, realizing he hadn’t really thought this plan through. He stood awkwardly for a moment, thinking about just leaving, but then an odd sound caught his attention.
“hkt! hmpt!”
It sounded almost like-
“hpTSschh!”
-sneezing. Ah. Suddenly everything started to make sense. Peter pushed the door open to find Neal in front of the sinks, crunching forward into a bundle of toilet paper with another mostly held in sneeze.
“huh’tSschh!”
His eyes cracked open then widened when he saw Peter in the mirror, and he whirled around to face the older man.
“I was just-“ He broke off into a couple of rough coughs.
“Oh,” Peter balked, “You’re just sick.”
Neal squinted. “…as opposed to what?”
“Scheming, sneaking, plotting.”
“Oh. Uh, no.”
That answer had Peter frowning. It was far from the snappy repartee he had come to expect from Neal Caffrey, and that unnerved him. He tried to move past it.
“You shouldn’t be here if you’re not well. I know you’re not exactly a traditional employee, but you can still call in sick.”
Neal looked off to the side, his expression cryptic.
“I’d rather work, keep busy.”
“Well I’d rather you didn’t make yourself worse and have us lose you for weeks instead of days,” Peter retorted. “Go home and get better.”
“But I don’t-“ He stopped abruptly and sighed. “Fine.”
He stalked past Peter and out the door.
For the rest of the day Peter was even more distracted than he had been when Neal was there. He couldn’t think of a time before now that he’d ever seen Neal sick. Was it that rare, or was he that good at hiding it? Either way, the fact that Peter had found him out this time concerned him. How bad was it? Did Neal even know how to take care of himself?
The questions kept swirling around his mind until ultimately he decided to leave the office early to check up on his CI. He gathered up a few files as a pretense and took off.
***
Peter knocked but didn’t bother waiting for a response, quietly letting himself in to the apartment. He sighed at the sight before him.
Neal was sat in front of his easel, clad in a white tank top and silky blue pajama pants. He held a paintbrush in one hand and a balled up tissue in the other. More tissues filled a waste bin at his feet, fitting well with the angry redness of his nose. He looked much worse for wear than when Peter had sent him home, which only made Peter feel more justified in his decision.
“You’re supposed to be resting,” Peter said calmly.
Neal’s dulled eyes blinked slowly. He sniffled, pinching the tissue he held over his nose then tossing it and pulling out a fresh one. His eyelids fluttered as his head tilted back then snapped forward into the tissue.
“huh’htzshooh!”
When his head rose back up, he found Peter still looking expectantly.
“I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes painting helps.” His voice came out strained and gravelly. He tried to clear his throat but it just made him cough.
Peter came around the other side of the easel and raised a brow at the small canvas covered in a flow of wobbly lines.
“It’s not your typical style,” he said, half-amused. Neal put on a sour face.
“Yeah, well, precision and detail aren’t exactly in the cards right now,” he grumbled, jerking a thumb at a canvas propped against the wall. It was the beginnings of a cityscape, but the straight clean outline of the tallest building suddenly swerved into a messy splotch halfway down.
“Let me guess, you sneezed?” Peter chuckled at the grumpy nod he got in response, picturing Neal dragging the brush down as the sneeze built, fighting to finish the paint stroke in time only to fail miserably. He’d have liked to have seen that.
“I get it. If it’s abstract, no one can tell if you mess it up.”
“Exactly.” Neal stared at him for a moment, looking somewhat dazed.
“Why are you here, Peter?”
“Oh! Well you said you wanted to work so-“
“huh’Tsschoo! *snf!* Sorry…”
“Gesundheit. If you were feeling better I brought some files that-“
“huh’pstchh! huH’TSSCHh!” He looked up from the tissue, expression meek.
Peter smirked. “Are you done?”
Neal nodded eagerly, then just as quickly shook his head, his eyes slamming shut as he bent forward again.
“huh’TSSCHT! huh’schooh! Ugh…” He groaned and remained slumped over, a few wet coughs joining the mess he’d made of the tissue and his hand.
When he finally raised his head back up, he looked so sick and miserable it hurt Peter’s heart. He closed the distance between them and clasped a hand over Neal’s shoulder, taking note of the unnatural heat he found there.
“Come on, you need to sleep.”
“I tried already,” Neal protested weakly even as he allowed Peter to tug him to standing and guide him to his bed. He obediently got under the covers and peered up at Peter hovering by his side.
“It’s kinda weird, you looming over me like that.”
“Scooch over.”
Neal’s brow furrowed but he obliged, brain too fuzzy to even guess at what Peter was doing.
The agent sat down on the edge of the bed, and Neal watched curiously as he toed off his dress shoes and swung a leg onto the mattress. There was a long beat of silence accented by Neal’s wet sniffles before Peter spoke.
“When El’s not feeling well…she likes when…when I…” He could feel himself blushing as he fought to find the words. “Just, tell me to stop if you don’t like it, okay?”
Before Neal could react, Peter’s fingers began dragging gently against his scalp, combing through his slightly greasy hair. Immediately a soft moan escaped him and his whole body relaxed by a degree. He turned his head so Peter could get to the other side, in the process smooshing his nose into the pillow. After a second his chest jumped, and he barely got a hand cupped over his nose in time to
“huh’ztsSH!”
The sneeze was small but messy, which Peter seemed to pick up on, his hand leaving Neal’s hair and returning with a tissue box. Neal plucked a few out, cleaning his hand and blowing his nose.
“Keep doing that…please,” Neal rasped, inching closer to Peter’s broad, warm body.
Peter obliged, tracing around his ear to the back of his head in long, slow strokes. He felt the moment Neal fully fell asleep, his body going totally limp and his breathing slow with a drag of congestion.
Peter smiled softly and eased his phone from his pocket, shooting a text to Elizabeth that he would be late coming home.
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Hi, how r u?
I had a fluffy idea for the Christmas writing challenge.
How about a Luke Skywalker (or whatever sw character you like) x fem reader where they are having to share a bed on a cold night winter day. And she’s just so gentle and soft to him, always respecting boundaries and making sure he knows that he’s loved? Like Imagine softly caressing his cheek and he just confesses right then and there because hes so touch starved and melts under her touch
I think this is too confusing and sappy. And too late lol
Thank you for reading this 🤍
I used poe bc I love him and he deserves to know this
Need Your Warmth
pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader
word count: 1461
warnings: i didn’t proofread at first and literally posted this with (insert creature) in it so that’s lovely
12 Days of Christmas Masterlist
main masterlist
Poe was three minutes away from shooting his own foot just to warm it up.
That's how cold it was. And he was about to do it, too. He was thinking about pulling out his blaster and doing it in the middle of the cafeteria when Y/N wrapped her warm arms around him from behind.
"Hey there, flyboy." She said softly, and Poe felt his whole body warm with her touch, even through all the layers.
"It's a good thing you're here. I was about to shoot my own foot." He told her, trying not to frown as she took her arms away and sat down right next to him, close enough to feel his body heat.
"Why exactly were you going to shoot your own foot?" Y/N asked, digging into her soup before it got cold. Poe had finished his soup awhile ago, but he still had a good chunk of his break left.
"It's freezing!" Poe exclaimed, letting himself chuckle a bit when she laughed.
"Have some of my soup." She pushed the bowl to him, and he had no time to tell her 'no' before she was talking again. "You're just a warm Yavin boy, aren't you." She teased, and Poe felt his cheeks heat at that.
Why was he like this?
"You got me." He said, pushing the bowl back over to her. She smiled as she took another spoonful.
"Have I?" She smirked, and Poe just scoffed and looked away.
"How long is your break?" He asked, heart skipping when she raised her eyebrows at him.
"Poe, we have a mission in, like, an hour." She told him when she swallowed the last of her soup, and his eyes widened.
How could he have forgotten?
"Right!" He chuckled, looking down to BB-8, who was miraculously quiet and just staring.
"Are you alright?" Y/N asked, so genuinely Poe wanted to take the emotion and shove it straight into his heart.
"Yeah! I just - I have to do a couple things." He got up, letting out a quick breath when he almost tripped but gracefully caught himself and was able to play it off.
"Okay," She smiled, taking a bite of her bread and waving. He waved back, trying just a little too hard not to act awkward. He turned and practically ran out, hitting his head on his hand as soon as he turned the corner.
"That was a disaster, wasn't it?" Poe asked his droid as they made their way to the hanger. BB-8 let out a couple encouraging beeps, and Poe sighed.
"Thanks, buddy."
~
"How is it even colder on this side? I didn't know it could get any colder." Poe said between his chattering teeth. He and Y/N's mission was simply figuring out where the people inhabiting the other side of the planet stood - were they with the Resistance, or the First Order?
"Well yeah, our side is in summer." Y/N said with a small smile, pulling a scarf out of her X-Wing and wrapping it around Poe before closing the hatch.
"You're kidding, right?" Poe's face was too serious for Y/N to not laugh at, and she walked ahead of him and out of the small hanger they had clearance to land at.
After a couple hours, the sun was low in the sky and it had gotten somehow colder. By now, even Y/N was starting to get a little chilly, so she knew Poe had to be absolutely freezing.
"We should head back." She told him, turning to see him actually shaking. "Maker, Poe, are you okay?" She was in front of him in half a second, pulling his hat over his ears and pulling her gloves off to place her warmer hands against his cheeks.
"Yeah," He chattered, and Y/N just shook her head, already feeling his cheeks like ice. "Let's just make our way back to the ships." He began to turn, but she grabbed his arm.
"We can't go back with you like this!" She pulled her gloves back on, then looked around.
"What?" Poe sounded absolutely floored by this idea. "What do you mean?"
"What, you think you'll be able to pilot like this?" She asked, grabbing his hand and holding it up. It was shaking, and he knew his bones had been so frozen that he wouldn't be able to make quick maneuvers if he needed to.
"What about BB-8?" He tried to ignore the look Y/N was giving him.
"Poe," She said carefully. "BB-8 is a droid. He'll be fine."
"What are we going to do then?" He asked, but instead of answering Y/N just grabbed his hand and marched over to the closest house that had smoke rising, meaning a working heating system.
"We're going to stay here, obviously." She answered, knocking on the door before Poe could protest.
"Hello," A Togruta answered the door, smiling nicely at them both. Y/N smiled back while Poe just stared. He was pretty sure his mouth was frozen.
"Hi! Me and my friend, we're not from here, and we really need a place to stay tonight. We can't make it back to our home." Y/N explained, then leaned in to the Togruta. "He doesn't do well with the cold." She whispered. Poe had no chance to respond, instead being pulled into the small home.
"We only have one extra bed. I hope that's alright." The Togruta walked around, finding extra blankets before leading them to a small room, the only thing in there a bed. She set the blankets down on the bed and then smiled at them both. She smiled and then left the room.
"I don't have to sleep on the bed. There are a lot of blankets anyway," Y/N shook her head at Poe’s words, grabbing his hand before he could take the blankets.
"If you don't want to share the bed, I'll sleep on the floor." She told him, giving him a soft smile. As much as she wanted to cuddle up with Poe, she would never force it on him. She never saw Poe interact physically with anyone else unless he came back from a close mission, so she wasn't sure what he was comfortable with.
"No, it's not that I don't want to, it's just, I didn't know if you would be okay with that." He said, his voice light as he tried to convey his feelings without actually saying them.
"I'm fine with that." She smiled, letting go of his hand and beginning to spread the blankets out on the bed. "Besides, if we share the bed, we can share body heat. It will make you warmer." She said it like she didn't care, like the thought didn't make her heart race.
It made Poe's heart bruise his ribs.
"Right," He nodded, finally feeling the heat of the room in his face. It was still freezing, but it was much warmer than it was outside.
"Alright," She sat on the bed to remove her boots, and Poe sat next to her to do the same. "I'm gonna take off my outer layers." She told him, smiling and making sure he wouldn't feel uncomfortable. He just gave a tight smile and stood to do the same.
Once the two were in their under layers, Y/N turned the light off and the two awkwardly got into bed across from each other.
"Are you okay with this?" Y/N asked, and Poe felt so loved because Y/N was always checking in on him, wether it be something small or something big.
"Yeah," He shivered, waiting for the moment that their body heat did it's job and finally warmed him.
"You're still shivering!" Y/N put a warm hand to his cheek, which wasn't icy anymore but was still cold. She scooted forward, making eye contact the whole time to make sure he wasn't uncomfortable at any point. "We can share body heat," She suggested, as if she were asking what he wanted for breakfast.
"That sounds nice." He admitted, letting himself reach out for her. She was so warm, Poe was confused at how someone could be this warm on a planet like this. "How are you always so warm?" He asked, feeling bad when she squirmed at his cold hands.
"I don't know. I'm glad I am, though." She told him, trying to relax. She put a hand on his face, warming him again.
"I'm so glad you're here." He whispered, eyes closing as his body began to warm for the first time in what felt like forever.
"Me too." She whispered back, blushing when he tangled his legs with her's.
"I love you," He said softly, not even noticing until a couple seconds later. Her breath caught as his eyes widened.
"I love you too." She told him, smiling as he relaxed once more.
"Good, that's good." He closed his eyes and pulled her close. "Because I'm gonna need you to be my heater."
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @roxaya
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Sigh. I accidentally posted my half-finished answer to a really kind ask and then in a panic deleted all of it.
So! Rewriting it all. (Hope you'll see this, anon <3) I unfortunately don't have a copy of the ask, but what anon basically asked for were my reasons why I stopped listening to dndads.
There are a couple, mostly boiling down to that I felt increasingly frustrated with Anthony and the waste of potential in season 2. I'll elaborate on this - really happy someone asked me about this actually, I've been looking for an excuse to write out my thoughts on the matter.
Dndads negativity under the cut (aka hater hours)
First of all prefacing this with saying that the most important factor was probably my personal mental health. But we're not here to talk about that, we're here to rant!! So, here is my little wordspew which I've been wanting to write for literal months:
Rejecting the Storytelling Medium You Use and Ignoring the Consequences
Let's start on a positive note; I love the comedy of this show and the cast's chemistry. Every time I listened to an episode, I laughed so hard my jaw hurt. They are incredibly funny people.
However, every time as the credits rolled after "On My Way," a sense of nervous disappointment lingered. The problem sat in season 2's story. Every episode is funny, but the narrative steps that were taken were just frustrating, going in a direction that lead either to meaningless conflict or another fetch quest with minimal results.
Dungeons and Daddies should not be a Dungeons and Dragons podcast.
People struggling with the rules and deciding to do their own thing with it can have its charm - it never annoyed me in the first season of the Adventure Zone. But with dndads it actively hinders the show and the storytelling.
It's just... Anthony isn't that good of a DM.
He knows the rules of d&d 5e. He just doesn't want to use them. He gets frustrated when his players take creative actions that undermine the story he planned out. An example is the confrontation between the teens and Willy. Lots of really creative actions and high-level spells were used, but Anthony consistently shut those down and in the end it all went according to how he wanted it to go.
They frequently rerecord scenes when they feel it didn't work out. That's not exactly letting the dice decide, which is what the whole genre is based on!
My sister and I used to speculate on where the story could go, and we often jokes 'this is good stuff, Anthony Buch take notes', and those jokes turned from (affectionate) to (derogatory) once it became clear to us that the direction Anthony was taking really didn't sit right with us.
Season 2 truly had so much potential. We have a set of really interesting PCs who have a strong relationship with a set of equally (if not more) interesting NPCs. The setup of the Doodler as a bbeg was great - and so was the reveal of the Doodler's true feelings.
But the story dragged out, didn't grow, the jokes detracted and distracted from the narrative, emotional beats were unearned, etc. I was bored with the characterization of the kiddads and their actions. The return of the og dads was messy and took away from the story. The three month time skips during a period in which there were supposed to be stakes made me want to rip my hair out.
There's a whole other essay I can make about how d&dads undermines it own stakes, but this is already getting too long so that's for another time.
Also, and I'm so sorry to use Anthony as a punching bag this much, but the man verbally undermines himself so much. He constantly says he doesn't like the second season, negatively compares both PCs and storybeats with the first season, and disses his own capabilities. I understand anxiety well, believe me I do, but continuously saying that you don't think this thing you've created is any good to your fans on your own podcast gets frustrating. This seems to me something you share your personal circle or your therapist, not to your thousands of fans who probably listen to the podcast because it brings them joy!
I have so much more to say, talking about this truly sparks joy in me. But all that matters I suppose is that I've happily divorced. Sadly writing about Lark Oak genuinely helps me cope with all the stuff that's going on, so I'll be tied to this podcast for a while longer.
#if anyone wants to shittalk dndads i'm your gal#favorite activity#also anons timing was so good#i logged in to tumblr to post#'so be real. do you guys seriously think the story of dndads s2 is good'#when i saw the message in my inbox#answers and such#sweet anons
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Hello! It’s me, back with content for the first time in a verrrryyyyy long time, but I’m finally back! I wanted to post this fic for awhile, but it’s not from one of the fandoms I normally write for, so I didn’t, but I figured I might as well post it after coming back from hiatus since no one will know I posted it if it sucks, so with that, let’s start my first Maximum Ride fic!!! Let’s get into it:
WAIT!! First I need to share with you the picture that made me want to write this fic, cuz bestie- the Fucking ler vibes 🥲
(Page 200 of volume three of maximum ride)
Ok, now let’s actually get into it:
_________________________________________
Warnings: Swearing (if I’m missing any, please let me know)
Ler: Fang (rip his long hair 😔🤚)
Lee: Reader
You and your six friends were absolutely inseparable. You all lived together on a beautiful peace of land. Not to mention that your wings aloud you to fly all around it, all spending time together.
But you’re relationships with five of the six couldn’t hold a candle to the one you had with Fang, one of the oldest people in the flock. Back when you and the rest of the flock were still in the school, Fang was always the one who took care of you. You told him everything, and he would always listen. You both cared very deeply for each other, and he could read you better than you could even read yourself.
It was around 11:30 am, and you still weren’t awake. This wasn’t uncommon, but it also wasn’t Fang’s favorite thing. He was glad you got rest, but wished you slept more at night then in the morning. However, he couldn’t blame you. After all, after you, he was the one who was the most nocturnal in the house.
Never the less, he always woke you up about an hour after he woke up, and that time was now. The rest of the flock was out on a fly, and Fang had told them the two of you would go out and meet them after you woke up. He finished brushing out his long hair and tied it up in his classic ponytail, and went up to find you.
When he got to the room you slept in, he came in quietly, and shook you gently. “[NAME], it’s time to wake up, we need to meet the flock. They’re already out on a fly” he said, shaking you again. You mumbled something incoherent and pulled one of your pillows over your head.
He sighed, smiling fondly at your attempt to stay asleep. “You’re really going to make me do this, huh?”, he said, his smile turning ever so slightly into a smirk.
He lifted his wings up slightly and brought them to your neck, gently letting them drift along it. He could make out some muffled giggles from under the pillow as you lifted your shoulders to try and protect your sensitive neck. After about thirty seconds, he took the pillow off your head and put his hands on your ribs, lightly squeezing there, leaving his wings at your neck. “You wanna wake up now?”, he asked teasingly, raising his eyebrow to emphasize the question, despite the fact that your eyes were closed and you couldn’t see it.
“Nohohohoho, IhI’m tihihirehed!!”, you giggled, kicking your legs out, your smile as bright as the sun. Fang smiled as well. He couldn’t help it, you’re smile was contagious. “Well then, I guess I’m not going to stop till you’re ready to wake up” he said, moving his hands from squeezing your ribs to using his blunt nails to lightly scratch all over your stomach and sides, making you squeak and arch you back. “Fahahang!!! *squeak* Mehehahahan!!!”, you giggled, trying to push his wings out of the crook of your neck, not realizing you just gave him the perfect opportunity to get your worst spot: the skin in between your armpit and elbow.
Fang had been tickling you for enough of his life to know this was your worst spot. It didn’t make you laugh much louder than any other spots, but in sheer sensitivity, it beat everything by a landslide. He wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity.
He quickly used his wings to pin your arms in place and let you catch your breath for a second, and hovered his hands over the spot as a warning.
“Okay [NAME], I’m giving you a choice; either get out of bed now, or I’ll make you~. Which will it be?”, he asked, a wide smirk plastered on his face. “Thahat’s an ultimatum, not a chohohoice” you said, giggling both in anticipation, and from the previous attack. “Same difference” he said. “Noho ihihi’s nohohot! A choihice is whehen you hahave two options, wherehe an ultimatum is whehen you don’t hahave any choice in the mahater cuz you can either do whaht you wahant but something unfavourable happens, ohor you’re forced intoho something unfavourable”
Fang smirked, and whispered right in your ear “Well then this isn’t an ultimatum, cuz we both know you love this~. So what’s your answer then little brid~?”, he said, flustering you quite a bit, and blowing a bit of air in your ear to make you squeak.
Two words. That’s what spelled your demise. And yet, those were the words you chose to say.
“Make me.”
His eyes flashed with a slight hint of mischief, narrowing his eyes at you. “Okay, you asked for it!”, he said as his hands made contact with the soft skin, making you loudly squeak and giggle hysterically. “*SQUEAK* Ahahahahahaha Fahahahahang nahahaha!!! Dohon’t!!!!!!”
Your reaction only made him want to tickle you more. He loved mornings like this, and he loved to make you laugh, and he knew you enjoyed it as well. But he also knew he had to stop at some point. After all, he had promised the flock that he’d bring you to where they were flying after you had woken up.
“Okay [NAME], I’m going to have to make you a deal since we have to go meet the flock. If you get out of bed now, I promise I’ll tickle you more later today. Deal?”, he said, slowing his attack a bit so it’d be easier for you to answer. You thought about it for a moment, but eventually nodded. Fang smiled, finally stopping his attack completely, leaving you to giggle at the tingling sensation left behind.
He opened the door and bowed dramatically, making you laugh a bit, and let you go through first. When the two of you started walking to the place where the flock normally started their flying, you had trouble feeling fully awake.
“I’m tired, I wanna go back to sleep…” you said, walking slowly slightly behind Fang. “Don’t forget our deal” he said, lightly brushing his wings in your neck again, making you squeak quietly and flinch, smiling. “If you go back to sleep, then you won’t be awake when it’s time for me to do my part, and you wouldn’t to miss that, now would you little bird~?”, he said, knowing how to fluster you all to well.
“Sh-shut up..” you said, hiding your face in your hands to cover the blush that was slowly creeping onto your face. “You should watch what you say [NAME]~” said Fang, suddenly now directly behind you, playing your ribs like a piano. “Hehehey, Fahahahang!! Nahaha!”, you giggled, trying to continue walking, but you were all curled up on yourself. Fang then let go of your sides and continued walking, side-eyeing you with an evil smirk. “Don’t fall behind now little bird. I would hate for you to get left behind~” he said as you continued to giggle slightly.
When you eventually caught up to him, he wrapped his wing around your shoulder, chuckling at the way your subconsciously went to protect your neck. “You’re so mean” you said, wrapping your arm around his waist since he was much taller than you, so there was no way you could put them around his shoulders. He chuckled again and said “I’m not mean, you’re just to easy to fluster, how could I not?”. You blushed again, hiding your face in his wings.
He just chuckled, and put his arm over your head and rested it on your shoulder, every so often poking your ribs, or fluttering his hand in your neck.
As much as he teases you, and even though he can be a bit mean when it comes to flustering you, you were so glad to have someone like Fang in your life. You wouldn’t want it any other way.
꧁༺To be continued༻꧂
_________________________________________
That was the fic! The second part is in the works, so look out for that (in like a month or some shit cuz I’m not productive :D)! I hope you enjoyed! This fic was very self-indulgent, so I don’t expect it to cater to everyone, but then again, what does? I hope you have a lovely day/night and take care of yourself, byeeeee!!
-Froggie :p
#tickle fic#tickle community#t-word content#tickling#lee!reader#ler!fang#Maximum ride tickles#Fang x ticklish reader#Platonic tickles#tickle fluff#:p#hehe :)#maximum ride#ticklish!reader
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Getting hurt
Since the last few posts of Jeff Hodek weren't really like how I see him, ama write an imagine for yall.
This is an imagine for that post where he becomes a father figure. So yes, this is a father child thingy ma bob-
Anyways, enjoy!
'Great..'
My eyes watered, closing hard every few moments. My wound stung, very bad.
I honestly don't know how it all happened, it was happening so fast.
I was just outside the house, walking around since I was honestly bored without him there. And people weren't outside to see me so...I couldn't miss my chance, right?
He left either to get food or 'get rid of someones annoying ass', its always one of those two. Or probably more reasons that I don't know..I honestly don't want to know that. He's been gone for two hours now.
I get the house to myself then, just chilling inside or out. Or, in this case, walk around the house.
I can't waist chances..
I decided to run like a little kid and I found out that there was a broken beer bottle in the backyard. The hard way..
Tears started streaming down my face as I try taking them out. It hurt so bad. I take out broken shards, blood running down my arm as I do so. "Ack-"
'Ow..ow..'
The wound stung, every shard getting out means more pain and more blood on the floor.
I'm still shocked, but its my fault anyways. I decided to be a little shit and run around like that. Now I'm just here, taking out shards and crying.
"Kid?"
My heart skipped a beat as I hear his whispery voice.
'He's home.'
He still had his coat on, with his mask and hat. I guess he 'found' some clothes for him laying around. From what he was wearing, you could not see his features, only his tired eyes. They softened a bit.
"H-heyyy dad!" I smiled nervously at him, not looking at the clearly wounded arm. Tears still streamed down my face as I smiled, some of my tears actually touching the corners of my mouth.
He looked at me for a moment, then looked down at my arm ad looking back at me again. He lowered his head and sighed, leaving the room.
I could only stay in my position, from fear I guess..
'He's probably mad at me,.. or at least disappointed.'
I now frown at myself, looking back at my wound and trying to go back to taking out the shards that were left. There were only three or four left, not much but its still painful. I sigh.
His footsteps made me look at him. He was holding bandages, and alcohol..? I guess he found them during his time out. I stayed silent as he walked towards me, kneeling down at me and lending a hand out.
"I help..?"
I slowly nod at him, still frowning. He took out a small piece of material from his pocked and shoved it into my mouth, which made my eyes widen. He took my arm and took a look at the wound, his eyes narrowing it.
"This ight hurt."
He said, looking at me now. I nod again, accepting my fate with this. He chuckled at me, patting my back with his free hand.
"It's ok.."
This made me feel a bit more better and comfortable. But I was still in pain. And crying-
He took out the last remaining few shards out of my arm and started pouring the alcohol onto it. I squinted my eyes and bit hard onto the material. That stung even more than before, making me cry.
He seemed to ignore me, and still poured onto my wound.
The alcohol actually made the blood stop running down my arm and cleaned my arm like water. The wound starts to let out white bubbly looking substance, still stinging.
He then started to bandage it, the white material wrapping around my injured arm.
I was now more calm, I stopped crying, just watching him wrap the bandage.
When he finished, he took a moment to look at the bandaged arm and nodded. "Looks ok." He nodded even more, in self agreement. I took out the material out of my mouth and smiled softly.
"Thank you, dad."
I say, hugging him with my other, non injured arm. He chuckles again, hugging back and patted my back a few times, then stroking my hair. He then let go of me and got up, me following him with a slight wobble. He put his hand on my shoulder, his smile twitching a bit and him nodding his head.
"Always here for..you...ok?"
He cleared his throat, before coughing a bit and putting his free hand near his scared mouth. He turned his eyes back to me.
"Ok."
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _
Incorrect qoutes!
Teen! Y/N, sobbing: I just wanna go home to my dad!
Jeff, poofing into existence: Kid-
Teen! Y/N, now calm: Oh, hey dad!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Liu, talking to Jeff: Your kid is a troublemaker.
Jeff, confused: What kid?
Liu, pointing to Y/N that is doing something stupid:
Jeff: OH-
_ ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Jeff: You are a bad influence on my kid.
Liu, confused: The hell do you mean?
Jeff: Hey kid, who's your favorite singer?
Teen! Y/N: FUKING TAYLOR SWIFT-
Liu: I can explain-
Jeff: You know we don't listen to her after that day.
Teen! Y/N: What happened that day, dad?
Jeff: Shush child, is better not to ask.
Teen! Y/N: Ok dad.
_ __ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Teen! Y/N, just getting a glass of water from the kitchen:
Jeff, behind them: The hell you doing so late?
Teen! Y/N: *screams*
Teen! Y/N: Oh, hi dad-
_ _ _ _ _ _ __ ____ _ _ _ _
Teen! Y/N: You are so drunk right now.
Jeff: I'm not drunk.
Teen! Y/N: Tell the time then.
Jeff, pointing to the clock: I'm not fucking drunk.
__ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _
This is all I could think of for now. But I hope you enjoyed?
Have a great day/night!
Much love!
#jeff hodek#jeff the killer#creepypasta imagines#creepypasta fandom#creepypasta incorrect quotes#creepypasta jtk#jtk#papa Jeff#creepypasta comunity#creepypasta#liu hodek#hurt/comfort#IDK WHO I AM ANYMORE BUT HOKAYYYYYY#IM TIREDDDDDDDDDDDDD#AND IN NEED OF COFFEE
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MavDad: Home For Good
A/N: The next installment of MavDad! Thank you to everyone for reading! As always please leave ideas for more chapters in the comments or send me an ask (I think those are turned on?)!
MavDad Masterlist
Also on Ao3!
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For the third time that day Mav hung up the phone after calling his CO. They had been in a back and forth for the better part of a few hours. Mav was requesting a permanent position as a test pilot since his return to Top Gun did not go over well last time. His CO wouldn’t hear of ‘grounding’ the best pilot he has on active duty.
Mav was adamant in his need to be stationed stateside, “Sir, with respect, this is about more than just me. This is about my family and the fact that I almost left Bradley without a dad, again, sir,” Mav said, reminding his CO of the close call he had almost 9 months ago.
“Well Maverick, you have a distinguished flight record, there isn’t a reason they wouldn’t want you,” he sighed, “I still can’t believe I am doing this but report to Lemoore at the end of your scheduled leave. They have something new they have been requesting a pilot for.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mav said into the phone, disbelieving that he actually got what he had been wanting.
“So long Maverick, try not to piss any more Admiral’s off, yeah?” his CO said with a friendly laugh.
Mav chuckled, “I’ll do my worst, sir.”
Everything was going according to plan, he got the new posting, he’s going to be home more, now he and Carole just had to find a way to tell Brad.
—
If Mav was being honest with himself, this conversation could have gone a bit better. His plan went to shit because he was nervous to tell Brad the news. So in Mav style, he blurted it out over dinner that night.
“I requested a change of station,” Mav almost shouted, a whole two seconds after they sat down to eat.
Carole looked at him. Mav gave her a guilty look, he should have asked her about this before doing it, “I requested to be stationed stateside, they’ve transferred me to Lemoore, to be a test pilot.”
“Why did you request the change of station?” Brad asked.
“Well after what happened on the last deployment,” he sighed deeply, “There’s just too much at stake, I can’t ask you to risk losing a dad again.”
Brad locked eyes with Mav, “We don’t want to lose you either.”
“I know buddy, I know,” Mav sighed.
Carole took a deep breath before joining the conversation, “...Anddd, you and I are going to move there to be closer to Maverick.”
This was the part they were both worried about, Brad was 13 and had made some good friends at school. Starting a new school could be hard, especially if you were about to go to high school in a few months.
Brad furrowed his brow, confused, “Okay, I assumed that we would.”
Carole and Mav were surprised. Mav looked at him, “You’re not mad that you have to start at a new school?”
“No, we all get to be together, why would I be mad about that?” Brad said seriously.
“Well alright then, we are going to move in a few weeks once we find a house,” Mav told him.
“Okay, can I help pick the house?” Brad asked with a sly smile, “I want a big room.”
“Of course!” Carole said, “We can all look together.”
They finished dinner discussing what they all wanted in a house, where Brad would be going to school, and what Maverick would get to fly. Maybe the conversation didn’t go so poorly after all, Mav thought.
—
A few weeks into the hunt for a new house they came upon the perfect one. It was a three bedroom, two and a half bathroom beauty. The outside was red brick and the small bits of siding were painted a soft pastel blue. The bedrooms and full bathrooms were located upstairs, the downstairs was an open concept with a large living room and kitchen. The garage was plenty large for Carole’s car, Goose’s old Bronco, and Mav’s Kawasaki.
Carole and Mav got the loan from the bank and put the old house on the market. As the trio were packing up the old house, they all took a few moments the reminisce on the good times had there.
As Mav was packing his stuff up, he thought back to when Goose and Carole had bought the house before Bradley was born. He remembers racing over to meet them to see his nephew for the first time. Carrying Brad up the stairs to bed when he fell asleep on the couch. How him, Goose, and Carole would watch football on the Sundays they were on leave, kicking back and drinking beer. Seeing the picture Carole had taken of him and Brad in the backyard he thinks of the newer memories, the dinners spent together, teaching Brad baseball, hearing the piano through the house for the first time in years.
Carole sat on the porch swing, a steaming mug of tea warming her hands. Looking at the peeling white paint on the swing, she thought back to the quiet afternoons spent reading to Bradley, and how much nagging it took to finally get Goose to hang the damn thing all those years ago. He almost fell off the ladder he was using to hang it, she smiles at the memory. It makes her sad to leave their home, but just because they were leaving doesn’t mean the memories couldn’t come with them.
Bradley was enjoying one last afternoon on the swing set that his dad had built him. He thought back to learning how to play catch with Mav in the yard, the birthday parties his mom threw him, and the afternoons spent playing with his mom in the sun. He was going to miss this house, but maybe some change would be good for their family.
Once the last box was packed into the moving truck, and after saying goodbye to the house for the last time. The three of them piled into Goose’s Bronco, a few boxes stacked in the back, and headed towards their new home.
---
A/N: Tomorrow’s Chapter: A New School
#top gun fanfiction#top gun#top gun maverick#rooster top gun#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#goose bradshaw#carole bradshaw#nick goose bradshaw#maverick mitchell#pete maverick mitchell
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Chapter Seven-
A/N: Hi! I'm going to be posting a new chapter every other day! I couldn't find many post burn chilton gifs so I just didn't do any photos or gifs </3
Heres chapter seven of Frederick Chilton x FEM! reader
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“Are you crazy? You’re going to not just use Hannibal as bait but KILL HIM? After everything, I want him dead but isn’t that a bit extreme? How do you think you’re going to do that after everybody that he killed?” You sit down in Alanas office, cupping your face.
“Frederick needs grafts, doesn’t he? He expressed to me that he would love to count Hannibal among his donors. Will Graham is in with Hannibal now persuading him to help us because we told him it would also benefit himself.”
You sigh.“Frederick has surgery at three,” You look at your phone. “I have two hours until I have to go. If Hannibal agrees, i’ll help Will with Hannibal. If he doesn’t agree on the deal, i’m leaving early.”
Will comes into Alana’s office.
“He’s agreed. Y/N, can you walk to the FBI vehicle with me?”
You look up at Alana to make sure she’s okay with it, “You can go. Just please come back when you’re done so we can finish this conversation off.”
…
You start walking with Will to the vehicle that they were using to transfer Hannibal to police custody.
“Will, please promise me you’re going to be safe. I know that we haven’t always gotten along but I still want you being safe.”
“I promise. With Francis still on the loose, Please promise me that you will be safe. Don’t get yourself killed, Y/N.”
“Same with you. Thank you.”
You both stand there until you feel his arms wrapping around you. After all of the years of being friends with Will, you never thought in a million years he would ever hug anybody. You gave him a hug back, trying to not to cry. You two were pretty close and didn’t know what you would do if anything happened to him. You and Will had been best friends since childhood but as you got older, started having small arguments that got bigger. It to the point where you both took breaks from each other. One break that lasted until you got your job now, and saw him at Baltimore State Hospital. You forgave each other when he was admitted and you and Frederick were both his doctors.
“Thank you, Will. I love you,” You said with tears streaming from your face.
“Love you too.” Will removed himself from you and got in the FBI vehicle, leaving with Hannibal. Your phone kept getting calls from the same number so you decided to silence your phone and continue working.
You walk back into Alana’s office and sit in the chair across from the desk.
“I’m sorry. As you were saying?” You took a tissue off of her desk and wiped your teary eyes.
“I just wanted to tell you good luck and be safe. I hope that Frederick recovers well from his injuries.”
“Thank you. Is there any reason you’re saying this to me?”
Alana sighs, “Margot, my son , and I are leaving. I can’t say where we’re going but we’re not coming back.”
“Oh. Well, I hope you and your family have a safe trip there and start a really good life somewhere else.”
“Thank you. It was a pleasure working with you,” Alana says and shakes your hand.
“If i’m allowed to ask, when are you leaving?”
“Today, actually. As a matter of fact, we’re leaving as soon as we’re done here.”
Alana starts walking towards the door, “Goodbye, Y/N.”
You hear the door shut. That was it. That was the last time you were going to see Alana. You didn’t really like Alana but yet you were upset to see her leave. When you checked the clock on the wall, you had one hour until the surgery. You decided to just leave then to stay and hang out with him before the surgery.
…
When you arrived at the hospital, you checked you phone and noticed one more missed call from the number since you’ve silenced your phone. You also noticed that there had a voicemail. So you decided that before you went in, you were going to listen to the voicemail. What’s the worst it could be? If it was Francis Dolarhyde, you have the FBI for that. You then hit play on the voicemail:
“Hi Ms.Y/N, I’m Calling to inform you that we took Frederick into the operating room early. No need to worry because the operation is just simple and easy. His doctor had an open schedule and we asked him if it would be okay with him to go back early. I just wanted to notify you of the changed and we’re sorry for any inconveniences. thanks have a great day. Bye.”
You sigh as you step out of the car. Usually, you are there with him before the surgeries for emotional support (but also for you just to check on him and have somebody to talk to). Once you got in the hospital, for once it was kinda quiet. The waiting area was a teeny bit busy but nothing compared to as busy as it usually was when you came. When you walked into Frederick’s room, the first that you had noticed was that the rooms bed and oxygen chamber was gone which meant he hadn’t ben back from surgery yet. Even though a nurse had told you that the procedure was easy, you were still a nervous wreck. After all, everybody had been leaving in the span of like what? Three or four days?You didn’t wanna loose Frederick as well. Alana and Margot left with their kid, and you were just extremely concerned about Will Graham. Even though you both hadn’t been as close as you were years ago, you still deeply cared for him and saw him as an older brother. While waiting, you started getting really hungry so you left to go get a bag of chips from the vending machine.
…
When you came back, you saw Frederick in the tube. he had a bandage going up from his feet to knee caps so you assumed that it had been skin grafts or something. The hospital staff was kind enough to let you sleep in the hospital bed until he was able to. When you noticed that he still hadn’t waken up, you decided to take a short nap and figured that you’d be up in an hour or so.
…
When you woke up, you had saw that you hadn’t just slept for an hour. You had been sleeping for five. When your eyes adjusted to the hospitals lighting, you noticed that Frederick was awake and had been watching you sleeping from his tube.
“Babe i’m sorry that I missed your surgery today and I’m sorry but I really should be getting home. I basically just got Alana’s job because she left and there’s really not anyone to replace her but me. I just need to sleep well before work tomorrow. But I promise that both in the morning and after work, i’ll come visit. “
“It’s okay. Just go home and get sleep.”
You smile and gather your stuff heading towards the door before hearing Frederick speak.
“I have a key taped to the top inside of my mailbox. Please, stay at my place for a while. I also have a plant that needs to be watered at least twice a day.”
“Thank you,” You leave the room and head to you place to grab yourself some clothes to keep at his house.
…
When you got your you house, you started putting a bunch of random items (sweat pants, yoga pants, shorts, tops, pajamas, etc) into an overnight bag. You also grabbed travel sized toiletries that were unopened and should last a while. after packing, you made your way to his place. When you arrived, you got the spare key from exactly where he said it had been. The moment you got inside, you practically ran to his bedroom to find a hoodie of his to sleep in. Once you found one with his college printed on the front, you tossed on sweats, put your hair up, and crashed in his bed.
…
You were woken up at exactly 11:00 PM by Jack Crawford calling you.
“Hello,” You said into the phone, half asleep still.
“Francis Dolarhyde is dead,” Jack said somberly.
“Isn’t that good? Why do you sound like that?”
“Y/N, you sound tired. I’m just going to call you back tomorrow.”
“No i’m fine. What’s up?”
“Will and Hannibal are missing.”
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#frederick chilton#frederick chilton x reader#hannibal#raul esparza#hannibal x reader#chilton x reader#hannibal nbc#hannibal x y/n
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Days 227 - 266: Oh, to be in your care
These are getting fewer and further between huh? There's also no point mentioning that every single time, huh?
Well, I started school again.
It sucks.
I had a sinking feeling that this final semester was all of a sudden going to be unlike the other three and crawl by slowly...but looking at the last three weeks from a distance, I'm pretty amazed that there were three of them. It doesn't seem like it'll be too difficult but also doesn't seem like it'll be a cakewalk. I think I mentioned it before but at this point I'm just antsy because I'm over it, I'm ready to work now. I've done the co-op thing...twice...essentially doing the same thing I would do if I was hired to work there as a regular employee. Speaking of which, co-op ended and prospects at the city seem good based on what was said to me and about me. I'm still not sure if that's where I wanna end up but it also may be one of the best spots I can be while I figure out what's next. So that's pretty cool.
So yeah, I finished that, started school, caught COVID....
Yeah.
Fucking shit caught up to me.
I had been on a college campus for a couple of weeks, trying to mask up and be safe obviously but that'll only get you so far. Unclear if I was patient zero in my household as my dad got it a day or two before I did but I could have brought it back and not shown any symptoms. So the whole Chammas clan here in the apartment got infected. Luckily, mom and dad are both double-vaxxed, double-boosted and the worst of it seemed to only last about two or three days for them. Mine has been lingering though. I missed all my classes this week but luckily all of the material (aside from the live lecture) is still online, I have at least one class that was already fully virtual and a friend from older classes and my last co-op who was kind enough to talk me through today's coding lecture over WhatsApp as it was happening. I daresay I was more productive this week while sick at home than I was the last two while I was on campus. It's almost as if there's no actual reason for any of us to be there except for the fact the college wants us buy their shitty food and pay exorbitant parking fees on top of the already ridiculous tuition costs. Capitalism gon' capital. But let's move on from that since I've ranted and raved about it to family and friends over a voice chat between coughs enough this week.
Well, come to think of it, there's not much else. Oh...I guess I filed for divorce since the last post. Yeah. Fuck. That happened. We met at the courthouse. Filled out some paper work. Got some stuff notarized. Went back to her house...shit, okay. Pause. It IS her house. Why did I debate whether to refer to it as my OLD house? I guess technically both are true. *sigh* See how psychologically fun this whole process is? Anyway, yeah we went back to her house and re-signed and dated any of the paper work we had looked over a few weeks before and then I took it all home and filed. The process supposedly takes about 6-8 weeks (it's been 5) and that's assuming that we did everything correctly. At this point, I'm just praying I don't get an email back from the superior court saying "sorry try again" or I will lose my god damn shit. The process shouldn't be this hard....it's already hard enough emotionally.
Okay...fuck it here it is.
So she was late to the courthouse. We had to queue up and take another number after I had already been there for close to an hour. I was furious. I did my best to remain calm. She was apologetic. But god it was just...a microcosm of the worst parts of our relationship. I spent the whole rest of the time thinking how glad I was going to be when this process was all over, how this time might ACTUALLY be the last time I had to deal with this shit...and I just....couldn't fucking hold onto it. Maybe my heart knew it wasn't worth it. Maybe I'm past the point of caring, of investing too much of myself in it, and that's probably the healthier thing.
Before I left, I stood at the doorway awkwardly, said goodbye and then gave her a hug, and instinctively gave her a kiss on head. We just froze there for a second in a fucking depressing tableau.
I've said time and time again that this was all meant to happen, and I still believe that. I've said we're both gonna move on from this and do so much better for ourselves and by ourselves, and fuck I believe that with all my heart. But as has happened numerous times this year, and will certainly happen a few more before the year is through, loneliness has tendency to kick you right in rose-coloured nostalgia. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about giving her a shout when I got COVID just to hear her sympathize and remember what it was like when someone other than mommy and daddy were taking care of me.
It's funny, I started this series of sort of journal entries at the beginning of the year, to document my progress, the first new year since leaving my marriage and my home. And moreso than "look at all the progress I've made," I Iook back on everything so far and say "look how it's still hard, but I'm still moving forward." "Look how it's still hard but I'm still here."
I don't remember where I heard it recently but "two steps forward, one step back is STILL one step forward." So that's it. This is gonna be the pattern. Slow progress forward, but mostly more of the same. More of the same until it's different.
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ULTRAMagic Interlude: Shadowland Chapter 21
Previous | First | Next
Master Post
Andelin’s explanation of Milosh was a long and complicated one. She detailed the original conflict between the Vozenilek’s and the Haugen’s, which was reignited behind the scenes when the Proch’s entered the fray. The problem stemmed from the Vozenilek’s and Proch’s being outsiders, ideologically driven to conquer. Milosh was just another ne’er-do-well that felt entitled to things that were never his. Andelin attributed this mentality to the man’s mother, who instilled repugnant values in him. The Fear grew increasingly appalled as Milosh’s true intent was explained to him.
“That… that… oh, that piece of excrement! He’s dumb dumb dumb! I’ve been bamboozled!” The Fear declared as he paced in circles. “That villain! He’s one of those people that don’t care about anything but themselves!”
“Exactly,” Andelin agreed. “People like him never break free of their ignorance, preferring to fight tooth and nail to protect their ego. It happens an inordinate amount of times in the Cosmos proper.”
The Fear went over to his drawings, poised to tear them up. He grabbed the drawing of Milosh and got ready. “How badly I want to… No, no. Brother wouldn’t approve…”
“I take it that Hunger is an artist too?” Odo inquired.
“Yeah…” The Fear sighed. “I better not. You can continue, Andelin.”
“Quite. Now with all that in mind, I trust that you can fill in the blanks. There is no Scary God, Milosh wanted to overthrow Englehart and Sten, Dunja was manipulated to be a pawn, that spell you cast was an attempt at subversion, The Beast was not actually helping Milosh save The Iron city, and The Eternal Church is a bog standard cult.”
After taking a second to process everything, The Fear began making a series of incoherent, angry noises. It would have been endearing had the subject matter not been so dire. “Forget all of those shadowy demon things outside my vision, we’re going to Shadowland right now!” He then got out a backpack and began putting his stuff in it. “Is his majesty, King Sten, free at the moment? I need to apologize now.”
Andelin chuckled. “He should be. It’s only been twenty-four hours, so we should still have three days before the big demolition.”
Maximus yawned and stretched. “Jeez, has it? That time flew…”
“Oh, Maximus? I’m sorry for all those illusions I put you through” The Fear said as he finished packing.
He laughed. “It’s alright. I was the one who started chasing you after all.”
Leading the group outside, Andelin snapped her fingers once she was out in the open. The portal that had been used appeared before them. It would now remain active in Gummi’s house as they no longer had to worry about the cult. Aside from some leftover stuff from The Fear of Old, there was nothing of value in that reality error. Back at Gummi’s place, Gratiana was in her rocking chair, reading another book. Dunja and Torunn had returned to their business while Gummi was out doing something. Gratiana was surprised to see The Fear of Old with the group.
“Goodness, all of you were away so long that everyone went off to go do their own thing. I take it that things went well?”
“Yeah, I’d say so,” Andelin replied. “We took breaks while I explained the whole shebang and whatnot… leaving so soon, Maximus?”
He was already at the door. “Yeah. I hate to up and dash so soon, but I need to get out of this small form. Want me to give Sten the heads up?”
“Actually, dear, Torunn has requested your assistance” Gratiana answered. “There’s been quite a ruckus at Warehouse Zeta.”
Maximus put two and two together, followed by a soft cackle. “Ah, I see. Stay safe, everyone.” Once outside, he returned to his normal size and ran off.
The Beast also went to the door. “Speaking of which, I better go check on Rumbler. I know my boy is itching to get into trouble. Take care, guys.” Unlike Maximus, he stayed small for obvious reasons.
Odo was a bit lost. “Wait, what’s going on exactly? Did something happen while we were in the error?”
“Most definitely” Gratiana clarified. “Early this morning a… well, I don’t want to say a riot, but there’s been much chaos at multiple cult hotspots.”
“Blast it all, I hope no one’s getting too hurt,” The Fear lamented.
“Well sadly it’s the nature of things. People are going to hurt no matter what, but don’t fret. Torunn is making sure nothing bad happens.”
The Fear sighed, going to Gratiana for a hug. “Are you doing okay?”
“Yes, yes I am. And it’s good to see you again under such better circumstances.”
He then went to the door, with Andelin and Odo following. “Alright, let’s go see Sten then.”
“Do you want to come with us, Gratiana?” Odo asked.
“For now, no. It’s probably best that I don’t get spotted at the moment.”
He nodded. “Fair enough.”
“Everyone might be a little too heated at the moment, hehe,” Andelin pointed out.
Not wanting to get caught in an unfortunate situation, Andelin got out two of her cards and placed Odo and The Fear inside of them. They would be safe in her deck, allowing her to move through the city with ease. Naturally she wanted to get a peak at the chaos, but she could hear the fighting off in the distance. While passing through Strike Street to the castle, Andelin noticed that the church in the distance was being occupied by Sten’s knights. Things were getting interesting now that The Fear’s spell was gone. Thankfully she did not have any problems as she entered Castle Haugen.
“Sten! Have I got good news for you!” Andelin announced as she strode into the throne room.
The king was speaking to several of his captains, dismissing them as Andelin approached. “You do? Well it best be important. Things are incredibly hectic right now…”
“Perhaps you’d like to speak to Odo and the anomaly?” She tossed out her cards, causing the two to appear before them. Both were a little dazed, however.
“Oh my, that was dizzying…” Odo remarked as he got up, collecting his bearings. “Your royal highness? With help, I found The Fear of Old!”
Sten clapped. “Haha, excellent! Well done to you and everyone involved. Now I assume this boy here is the primordial in question?”
The Fear looked up, utterly terrified by the king. “Um, y-yes, your majesty… That would be me. I would like to start out by saying…” There was a pause, followed by him getting on his hands and knees. “I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING!”
Sten was taken aback by The Fear’s prostration. “My boy, it’s alright. I forgive you…”
“NO, YOU CAN’T JUST FORGIVE ME THAT EASILY.”
The king quietly laughed in sympathy. “Yes. I can. It wasn’t your fault that you were deceived by that scoundrel. Plus it’s obvious you dispelled the magic you cast at his behest.”
“Your royal highness, please arrest me…”
“Why, if I may inquire?”
Andelin looked at The Fear, then back to Sten. “Perhaps we should humor him…”
“Right… Um, guards, place The Fear into custody and stand by.” Two of them walked over, put handcuffs around his wrists, and stood next to him. They felt a bit silly doing this.
“Thank you, your majesty…” The Fear said as he looked at his bound wrists.
Sten sighed. “Fear, the fact that you are accepting responsibility like this means you were never a bad person to begin with. I’ve spent decades dealing with Milosh, so I’d dare say I have a good judge of character.” He then looked at Odo. “Well done, Sir Odo. You may return to The Market District as you see fit. Although I humbly ask that you stay here until The Eternal Church is demolished.”
“Ah, I see. Well I don’t see too big of a problem with that. I don’t think the cult’s going to cause any more problems…”
“And you’re sure you don’t want any reward? That was quite the deed after all.”
Odo thought about it. “It’s alright, Sten. I took this job out of concern for everyone… although, you could bail out The Fear here, hehe…” The request was spoken in a humorous tone.
Sten chuckled. “Of course. Guards, release The Fear of Old. He has served his time.”
“What? Hey!” The Fear complained as his cuffs were removed. The guards returned to their posts, trying not to laugh.
“Now Fear, what do you wish to do now that you are no longer under Milosh’s thumb?” Sten inquired.
“I’m not sure, your majesty. I need to find a new place to stay while my brother is off doing his job. Then I guess I’ll go back to drawing… And maybe I could also study Alchemy while I’m at it.”
Before Sten could give his thoughts on this, Dunja and Aureolus entered the throne room. “Aunt Dunja, why’d you never go to Fyodor for help with void magic?”
“Ha, Sweetie, I spent at least ten years being his adversary…”
“Oh yeah, my bad.”
“Aureolus, I trust your training went well?” Sten inquired.
“Yes it did, your majesty. Yes it did.”
Dunja giggled. “Even I learned some new things…” She then noticed the very familiar boy across from her. “Fear? Fear!” She rushed over and picked him up, holding him like she was his mother.
“Dunja! I did bad things, Dunja…”
She chuckled. “Yeah, so did I, sweetie. Don’t worry, things are going to be a lot better now. I take it he’s up to speed, Andelin?”
She nodded. “One hundred percent caught up.”
“Don’t worry, Sten, I fully plan to take this boy home with me and keep him safe and sound… Dealing with his brother is going to be something else though.”
“It’ll be alright, Dunja,” the Fear said as he was set down. “Just let me know when he shows up.”
“Also my apologies for how sudden that was, Sten. I trust you’re okay with my plans?”
“I have no objections. If something happens in The Iron City, send him our way as soon as possible. We will take care of him as if he were one of our own.”
“Thank you, cousin.” Dunja paused to get a glass of water, as her throat was parched. “Fear, you are going to like Englehart. He’s nothing like what that worm told you, I can guarantee that.”
“Yeah, grandpa is really cool. I’m Aureolus, by the way. Nice to meet you” he said as he held out his hand.
The Fear was hesitant at first. “Oh my, a being of darkness. That’s kind of scary… but hi, I’m The Fear of Old” he replied as he accepted the handshake.
“Want to hang out?”
“Um, sure.”
“Your majesty, may I take The Fear with me to Claudius’ house?”
Sten thought about it. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt, but bring him back here immediately if there is any sign of trouble, no matter how small.”
“Will do, your majesty. Come on, Fear. Want to see my magic notes?”
Once the two boys were gone, Dunja chuckled. “I can’t wait for him to meet Blood…”
Sten cleared his throat. “Dunja, could you summon Torunn and Gratiana?”
She was caught off guard by this. “I beg your pardon?”
“Torunn has informed me of the obvious.”
Andelin shuffled her deck and set it down. “Okay, I suppose. We have plans for her though…”
“Of which I am also aware,” Sten replied. “I hereby veto your duel. Please summon her.”
Dunja was flabbergasted. “Sten! This duel clearly means a lot to her!”
“You all have my sympathy, but this is of utmost importance. The fervor currently grasping my people has made me realize that the cult still has fangs. We need all the strength we can muster. If it means that much to her, I will organize an entire tournament when this is all said and done. Now please, summon her with due haste.”
Next: Chapter 22
ULTRAMagic Alternate © 2022 William Ford II (ChaoticTempleKnight)
#chaotictempleknight#ultramagic alternate#fantasy#sciencefiction#sciencefictionfantasy#literature#fiction#writing#story#writers on tumblr#chapter
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"I feel safe around you" the Danse x X6 fic!
Chapter 3
New drinking game, take a shot every time I use softly/soft, gentle/gently or quietly/quiet. /j
Enjoy!
X6 was starting to get used to this life, three months and a few weeks had gone by since he left the Institute and he had a... friend, wich was a bizarre to him, but despite their differences the two got along rather well, even though X6 still got this weird warm feeling whenever he's around Danse.
Even when he's just walking beside him, the warm feeling is there... he's starting to think he might have to get that checked out.
"We're here." Danse speaks up, snapping X6 out of his thoughts.
"Shouldn't be much of a problem, just some fearl ghouls." X6 said looking at the area that was going to become a new settlement, currently being occupied by the fearls.
"Agreed." Danse said, nodding and readying his laser rifle.
~~~an hour later~~~
Danse breathed a sigh of relief
"Phew, there was more that we anticipated- but asides from that, the mission went well." He says, taking another breath before continuing-
"Good work as awlays X." Danse finishes.
"Mhm." X6 acknowledged, trying to ignore the weird fluttery feeling he always gets when he's praised by Danse.
Danse sets up the the radio tower while X6 sets up some basic defenses (some walls and guard posts)- A few hours later and their work is done, the sun is starting to go down as they leave.
As their makeing their way to Sanctuary Danse looks troubled, X6 feels...worried.
[Yeah I'm definitely defective, empathy is not something I'm supposed to have...] X6 thinks.
"You seem troubled, why?" X6 asks.
He can't believe he actually just said that.
"...Nate is going to blow up Liberty Prime and the Prwyn..." Danse says in a lowered voice.
"Oh." X6 says, a little caught of guard by Danse's honesty.
"I don't know how to feel about it..." Danse says, X6 can tell he's conflicted about this.
"Why? Didn't Elder Maxson banish you from the brotherhood and pronounce you dead?- And also haven't you've been shot on sight by the brotherhood?" X6 asks, there's actual concern in his voice.
Danse furrows his brow as he answers
"...I know the brotherhood will never let me back in, I know that... but I spent so much of my life dedicated to them and their beliefs... I still find myself working with their principles in mind." He sighs.
"I think I understand... I know Nate plans to destroy the Institute and I don't really know how to feel about it either." X6 says honestly.
"Different boats, same storm." Danse states.
X6 looks at Danse, he hadn't heard that saying before but figured what it ment. He looks back at the the road.
"Well I guess we both feel conflicted about the places we can't go back to being destroyed" X6 said sadly, there was a liquid suddenly welling up in his eyes- a sadness punching him in the gut, making him stop in his tracks.
Danse turns around to see X6 looking obviously upset, (even with his sunglasses on) and he steps closer to him.
"X?" Danse calls out, concerned.
X6 took off his sunglasses and tried to wipe the liquid coming out of his eyes... was he... crying...?
He tried to stifle a sob as he realizes that he hadn't really acknowledged his feelings since he left the Institute, all these feeling hit him in big overwhelming waves and he couldn't hold in anymore as he lets out a loud cries and falls into Danse's arms, tears streaming down his face.
He's having a hard time breathing, he finally takes a gasping breath when Danse puts his hand on X6's back.
A combination of ignoring and avoiding his emotions all his life and never being touched like this, made X6 grab onto Danse, griping his power armor as much as he could- sobbing against the middle of the torso- He starts to hyperventilate.
"Hey, hey deep breaths..." Danse soothes, putting his other hand on X6's back, being as gentle as possible.
X6 blinks hard and takes a deep shuddering breath in and out...
"That's good, keep doing that" Danse encourages softly.
X6 breaths deeply again, he keeps doing it until he finally calms down, letting go of Danse and stepping back- wiping his flushed face.
"I'm sorry..." X6 says, his voice shaking.
"Never apologize for feeling overwhelmed, or for feeling anything for that matter..." Danse says gently, he looks so concerned for X6.
X6 smiles at Danse, and quietly laughs.
"...t-thanks... please don't tell anyone about this..." X6 says, still feeling a little embarrassed.
"Of course." Danse said softly.
"Let's go home..." X6 says, starting to walk again.
~~~
X6 was never exactly happy to go back to the Institute back in his courser days, but he was happy to be home. He felt relaxed...safe even.
"Danse?" X6 said looking at Danse who had just sat beside him on the couch.
"Yes?" Danse answered curiously.
"I uh- really appreciate earlier..." X6 said, his face becoming flushed.
"Of course, I care about my friends, X..." Danse responded, smiling at X6.
Danse puts a hand on X6's shoulder, that warm feeling becoming stronger.
"Speaking of that, how are you feeling?" Danse asked concerned.
"B-better now, I'm still processing what happened..." X6 said, trying to ignore the urge to hug Danse, being touch starved was an under statement.
"That's good to hear, take your time with it- it seemed be a lot at once." Danse said gently, giving X6's shoulder a squeeze before he let go and spoke up again.
"If you want to to talk to me about it, I'll try to give the best advice and comfort I can." he said with a soft smile.
"Thank you, that's very kind" X6 said, feeling worn out from what happened today.
"I'm going to sleep..." He says, yawning.
"You've definitely earned it" Danse says, giving him a caring look.
~~~
X6 woke up with a gasp- he had dreamt that he was found and been taken back to the Institute, his breaths where rapid.
he tried to calm down- it wasn’t really working, X6 got off his bad and quietly paced around his room... he needed comfort, and with a racing heart he left room and knocked on Danse's bedroom door- he felt guilty about waking him up at 1 am... but he now knows what happens if he just stuffs his feelings down.
Danse opens the door to see X6 looking worried.
"What's wrong?" Danse asked, rubing his face.
"I'm sorry, I know it's late... I just- I had a nightmare a-and I can't calm down..." X6 stuttered, he never used to do that that.
"It's okay X, I said I'd be there for you didn't I? That includes 1 am in the morning." Danse says gently.
X6 listens to his inner wants and just hugs Danse, crying softly- he's never been shown such care in his life asides from Nate.
Danse is a little surprised by X6's hug, but he reciprocates it, gently rubing X6's back with one hand. He does this for a few moments, and then X6 pulls away, wiping his eyes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Danse asks in a quiet voice.
X6 nods, heading inside Danse's bedroom, a oil lamp softly illuminating the room.
"You can sit on my bed if you want..." Danse offers.
X6 takes up on the offer and sits down, Danse sits besides him.
"I'm terrified that the Institute will find me" X6 says, taking deep breaths- trying to calm his shaking.
"I have the same fear actually..." Danse responded.
"Really?" X6 asks, looking at him.
"Yes..." Danse says softly.
X6 leans his head on Danse's shoulder, and when Danse's puts arm around him- he hugs Danse again.
"I don't know why I'm being so...touchy...I'm sorry..." X6 says in a quiet voice.
"It's okay X, it's okay... I really don't mind..." Danse reassures.
X6 takes some deep breaths...feeling tired... he eaily falls asleep in Danse's arms, he felt safe after all.
{End of chapter 3}
#my fanfiction#fanfic#creative writing#writing#my writing#fallout 4#fallout 4 fanfic#danse x x6#paladin danse#danse fallout 4#x6 88#fo4 x6 88#slow burn#fluff#comfort
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a couple of weeks ago, a friend showed me this amazing post (where the photos are far better than mine, which just didn’t want to turn out at all) of @the-far-bright-center‘s beautiful, sparkly Force Ghost Anakin, and it brought me such joy (I was maybe giggling excessively...), and today he arrived in the mail as a surprise gift! 💖
I want to take a moment to appreciate this bio, and the “weapon of choice” being loyalty and love, because it is. a lot.
this could be a very silly post (okay, it already is), but it actually gives me an opportunity to talk about something that I’ve never had a chance or reason to discuss before without some frame of context, so here is an unbelievably overemotional story (one of many regarding Star Wars’ history and special place in my life, I could write a series of these focused of specific themes and characters in all honesty) that no one really needs, but that I feel compelled to write anyway.
I’ve written before about my first experience seeing Revenge of the Sith (most recently here), so I apologize for retreading a certain amount of ground, but it’s important to know what the state of my life was at that time, which was a frightening, burned out shambles. ROTS premiered in May 2005, I believe I had just completed the physical therapy I’d been undergoing since the car accident we had that February. I was extraordinarily ill, and no one knew why (diagnoses were forthcoming), I was rapidly losing weight, and at the time, the scariest thing for me, was that I had no choice but to withdraw from school. Academia, which was such a constant for me, wasn’t even going to be on the horizon. I was, in short, not okay. I felt almost hollow in that uncertainty.
That midnight premiere was incredible, exciting, emotionally fraught, and I remember the weight and the sorrow of it hitting me in a very profound way when we got home, at which point I crawled into my bed and sobbed. I saw it several times that summer, but the final time (which is also a story a couple of my friends know, but I don’t think I’ve posted about it publicly?) was on my birthday that September. It is a crystalline memory. I can recall everything about that day, even what we ate (the cinnamon rolls my mom made for breakfast, the vanilla chai tea I had at Borders that afternoon), because it was the last birthday I had when certain things were not yet permanent, when I was still in the misty place between before and after. By then, the film had moved to our local little budget theatre, and seeing it that way, with a handful of other people rather than with a big, enthusiastic crowd, lent it an intimacy and poignancy which struck me on a wholly different level. (That was also the night Supernatural premiered, which is an aside, but don’t doubt for a moment that the events are inextricably emotionally connected for me.) September, and I should have been in school, but I wasn’t. I had no idea at that point that I never would be again, but I was frightened, and sad, and deeply angry. Anger isn’t a feeling I’d had a lot of experience with, I was a sweet, shy, overly sensitive, naive child (and teenager), but I didn’t often deal with anger, and then I usually sublimated anger with grief and guilt instead (and those things were warring in me, too, and of course I still carry them), but the anger at the unfairness of it all, at how cruel it was that this had happened to me, at how much I hated my own body for turning against me, how I irrationally hated myself for not being better or stronger or able to fight it, was consuming and yet almost childish, as though being ill was causing a perpetual temper tantrum in my mind.
My touchstone in the prequels was always Padmé, and she deserves her own post, but she was so inspiring to me, her compassion and her goodness and her belief in justice, her loving nature and her femininity and her tender heart being strengths, and never undermining her bright spirit, her keen mind, her ability to lead, her powers being her forgiveness and empathy and kindness. I love her so much and she had (and continues to have) such meaning for me.
It took me by surprise when the aching heart of my identification in ROTS plunged more towards Anakin. I loved him too, and I had a lot of varied, complicated feelings about him already, about his gentleness and his trauma, about the immensity of his capacities and his contrasts, but this was the fall, the dark hour of the story, the nadir of everyone’s suffering, and so much happens at his hand, because of his tragic choices. When I was reading the novelization, I didn’t know what to do with the fact that I understood certain aspects of his struggling in such a harrowing way, and seeing it playing out made that even more acute. Those choices he makes out of desperate fear aren’t rooted in evil, they’re driven by the chasm of grief and terror of loss, and they’re mixed with disillusionment and disappointment and frustration. Up until the moment when he walks into the Jedi Temple, when we really see him cross a line he cannot return from, hope for a course correction seems possible. Even knowing what’s coming, it’s like...just turn back. You can still fix this. It ripped my heart out because of course he wouldn’t, he couldn’t. There’s the scene where he’s denied the title of Master, and his outburst at the council (“this is outrageous! it’s unfair!”) is tinged with an adolescent level of upset, but...of course it is. He’s still so young and he wants to trust them, it’s not ambition causing that fury, it’s desperation for inclusion, for some measure of respect, and he keeps being refused. It’s a strange analogy because the things holding me back had nothing to do with a council of old men deciding my fate, all my hindrances were physically trapping me in my own body, the jury denying me the ability to move ahead was my own failing immune system, but I understood his rage, because I wanted someone I could yell at. The person I was so terrified of not being able to save, of having to watch die, wasn’t my beloved, it was...me, the girl I was, the girl I dreamed of becoming. I’ve talked so many times about feeling like I let her down, like I’m the ghost of her, the revenant walking around in a shape that vaguely resembles her, but at that point, she wasn’t gone yet, she was just rapidly slipping away. I didn’t know what to do to save myself. People would say it wasn’t my fault, to let it go (which felt a lot like being told the useless “mourn them do not, miss them do not”), that I was still here, I didn’t ask to get sick, and I knew, logically, that was true, but emotionally all I felt was that crushing guilt and despair (all of this remains a lingering struggle). I didn’t want to be powerless. I would have clung to something that offered me a way out. I knew where Anakin, conflicted and misguided as he was, was coming from, and it eroded everything that made him good and heroic and kind, so the only power I had left was to fight against it and keep the anger at bay.
This is such a specifically personal thing that I won’t get into the analysis of what happens in regards to his descent (which I also expounded upon in that other post anyway), but every time it happened, the same muscle memory seemed to take hold of me, my hands would shake and I’d press them together, my chest would pound, I’d bite my lip to try not to cry. I have this overwhelming fear of fire, so Mustafar was its own nightmare, and I’ve literally only watched the immolation scene once (that first time, at the midnight showing), otherwise I close my eyes tightly shut. I don’t even like seeing gifs of it. But because of what I was going through at the time, what I’ve gone through since, the physical aspects of him so painfully and horrifically losing himself, being so stripped of his humanity that hardly anyone ever looks at or acknowledges him as a person again (until Luke) held its own terror (it’s such an awful metaphor when it’s examined, and it’s that re-enslavement, he did not choose that reconstruction) because I didn’t understand what was happening to me physically, and because so many people were questioning the veracity of my pain and my incapacitating illness, were treating me as somehow less (ableism wasn’t even a word in my vocabulary yet, I just thought maybe everyone had a point and I didn’t deserve the space to be heard or understood, since so much of what I was going through was invisible). I genuinely felt like my personhood and my agency was being taken away. I didn’t have school, I was quickly isolated from everyone else and kept in the (comforting yet confining) cage of my room, I didn’t know who I was supposed to be anymore, and I didn’t know what to do if no one would listen or believe me (my mom aside). The torture Anakin is put through in that conversion to Darth Vader is unimaginable and I don’t want to dwell on it, but there’s a passage from the novelization that goes in part: “The first dawn of light in your universe brings pain. The light burns you. It will always burn you...You can hear yourself breathing. It comes hard, and harsh, and it scrapes nerves already raw, but you cannot stop it. You can never stop it. You cannot even slow it down...now your self is all you will ever have...and within your furnace heart, you burn in your own flame.” It’s such a wrenching description that some part of me separated it out from the villainous aspect, because the rest of it felt true. My nerves were raw and burned with sensation, touch and too much strain hurt, but my heart persistently, stubbornly kept beating, and I was left sifting through the alternating aspects of its passions (both the transcendent and the desolate).
This isn’t at all “excuse or justify the things Vader did” (since, again, this isn’t actual analysis, it’s sentimental personal nonsense), because of course I do not and never would, but the depth of empathy I had for Anakin, as a person and as a lost soul (and a lost future), and the way that left an imprint on me right at the onset of my illness became indelible.
There’s a point to this, I promise.
George Lucas did re-editing and reworkings of the original trilogy and I’ve never minded any of it, because they were his to edit and fix up if he wanted to do so, and little extra CG snippets of planets and creatures only expands the universe in my mind. That said, I realize adding Hayden’s Anakin at the end of Return of the Jedi was divisive, even upsetting for some, but for me it was everything. I’ve hesitated to ever reblog gifs of the scene because I felt like I had to justify or explain why I hold it so dear before I did, so this is my chance to do that.
As a child, I never felt really connected to the fleeting glimpse of Sebastian Shaw (my mom actually remembers me asking why he was so “old,” apparently I reasoned at the time that Anakin should have been younger, I think because I imagined him then as more of a dashing hero, based on Obi-Wan’s description in A New Hope). Anakin never lived as that image of a more middle aged man, that was never who he was within Vader’s suit, and there was always an evincive resonance that I was seeking. Once Attack of the Clones came along, Hayden was my Anakin, he was the embodiment of that character, and I loved him, and I loved his performance (and saw so much nuance and layering in it despite what was often said). Yet one of the last images we witness of him is burning on that scorched lava shore. It’s devastating.
Luke’s unwavering faith that some glimmer of his father still exists, that goodness can’t ever be entirely erased, that love will overcome, that throwing aside his weapon is an act of bravery and grace, is the moment when Anakin is finally released from that. “He takes the ounce of good still left in him and destroys the Emperor out of compassion for his son.” Balance is restored, and redemption is very small and quiet, not a washing away of violence, but a ceasing of it. It’s the hope that we can always find salvation, that we can still choose to act in love.
When Luke turns around and sees those spirits watching over him, benevolent and glowing and one with the Force, Anakin is his beautiful self again, as the description on this little package says, restored to the “hopeful young Jedi he once was.” The first time I saw that edit of the film, I wept. That was the connection I’d been looking for, the understanding that we’re never wasted, that our souls endure and are mended, that we can choose light, no matter how lost we feel we are, that love can persevere and illuminate even the longest night. It reminded me that I wasn’t only my body, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how it felt like it was collapsing on me, no matter how often I felt like I was failing to be the person I thought I would be, my body could never capture the entirety of who I was, or am. My spirit could still shine, my heart could still be soft.
Anakin says to Padmé in AOTC, “Compassion, which I would define as unconditional love, is essential to a Jedi's life, so you might say we are encouraged to love.” It’s one of my favorite scenes because it’s so sincere, and yet so richly layered in its meaning. And in the end, this is fulfilled, this belief is proven right.
People may think the idea of the Force is hokey, but because of the way I was brought up, and the intense theological discussions that used to be framed around it (particularly by my dad, we used to do this over e-mail back in the olden days of dial-up, I wish I had those conversations saved), it was a really important, formative concept for me. The Force is connectivity, it’s like a variant of the belief in Tikkun olam that parts of the vessels of the divine used to shape the world shattered, and their shards became sparks of light trapped within the material of creation, and thus exist and persist in all of us, in all the diverse and breathtaking life around us, and that we should respect and cherish that life. “The best expression of the Force is not a lightsaber fight or other combat techniques. It’s really about your connection to life, to everything around you, and your ability or willingness to let go, to find peace, and ultimately become a selfless part of existence...in the end there is no power that aids [Luke], except the power of compassion and love; the act of forgiveness and apparent self-sacrifice is what saves his father from the dark side.”
It’s the idea that there’s something eternal within all living things, something powerful and connected that binds us together, that means we affect one another, and that we make choices as to whether those influences are for the better (or not). That we can decide to increase the power of light and warm energy in the universe. The idea that we’re not limited to our physical selves, that we’re luminous, radiant, possible beings. That we can reach out in love and compassion to heal the world, even if it’s only in small ways, even if we’re the only ones who see it exist, who know it happens, and still the summation of that additional light can radiate everywhere.
#does this even make sense idk but here it is anyway#anakin skywalker#love can ignite the stars#encouraged to love#star wars#luminous beings are we#look what a *toy* caused me#i am a ridiculous person#bubble wrap around my heart#spirituality#the little girl who was always tired#chronic illness#it took me three hours from start to finish to actually get this posted sigh#but it was important to me even if nobody reads it#you are not obligated to complete the work but neither are you free to abandon it#sw meta#it's not really but i'll file it there
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Not Your Captain
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Word Count: 1695
Warnings: Falcon and the Winter Soldier Spoilers!!!!! Lots of Angst in this one, guys, lotta feels, some Fluff to counterbalance it, but mostly Angst, Cursing
A/N: This is Part Two to my previous FATWS writing, His Only Contact. FATWS SERIES STERLIST HERE! This one is from Reader’s perspective and gives you a bit more about Reader’s backstory. There will be multiple parts coming out in the next day or two based just on this new episode because damn. It was loaded! Due to this and my workload this past week, I haven’t been able to post the first chapter of my College!AU, Erased From the Stars, but I promise it’s coming! This’ll be my main focus for the weekend though! Expect more parts in the next 24 hours! I’ll be making a masterlist for this particular project in that time, too! Taglists are open! Please contact me if you want to be tagged! Thank you and please enjoy, loves! (Not beta’d, so sorry for mistakes!)
AGAIN: SPOILERS UNDER CUT!
The moment you saw it on TV, you knew you had to get to Bucky. You weren’t planning on leaving until the next day, but there was no way you weren’t going. So you caught the first plane you could from the base you were staying at.
You’re feelings were all over the place. Steve had been your best friend for more than the past decade. You were the one there when he first woke up. You were the one to help him get situated. You were the one to help him whenever he needed, to go over to his little place in DC when he was having problems, like the time he thought he was having an asthma attack when it was an anxiety attack or when you had to help him find a new phone after he accidentally broke his.
You were that close to falling in love with him. But life went the other way and, in a weird twist of fate, almost as if the universe wanted to spare you of the heartbreak it knew would come if you gave your heart to the dashing captain, you ended up tripping over your own feet for someone else.
Someone you would never tell.
He was the last thing you had left of Steve and you couldn’t ruin that because of your stupid feelings. And you couldn’t ruin the relationship you had now because it was working. He trusted you, more than anyone else. He trusted you because Steve trusted you and you wouldn’t dare break that trust.
You just hoped, with everything going down in relation to the shield - to his legacy - that you’d be able to keep that promise you made to yourself.
You were in front of his door early in the morning - around four - hesitating to knock. It didn’t take long for him to respond the moment your fist did meet the door.
He looked…tired. You wished, oh how you wished, that you could do more. Anything more. He insisted you helped him plenty already; he claimed he never had nightmares when you were by his side. But it wasn’t enough. Not for what he’d been through. You felt as though you were merely putting a bandaid over a bullet wound.
His chocolate locks were short, above his ears. You could remember how hesitant yet eager he was about doing it. It was difficult to not cut his ear off because he kept moving in anticipation. You would know: you cut it. Those blue eyes that made you trip in the first place were outlined by thick lashes, dark ebony bags beneath them, making the azure pop. He was shirtless, as he usually was when sleeping (or at least trying to sleep), his dog tags resting against his sternum.
You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot as if he was watching TV for too long and his hair was less messy than it would be if he actually slept.
The moment his eyes found yours, his plump, chapped lips turned up into the grin he reserved for you and he was pulling you in. Your reaction was instantaneous, your arms slipping around his waist, your chin resting on his shoulder as he found home in the crook of your neck.
He was touch deprived. You knew this, but you never brought it up. Especially considering you were one of the only people he touched willingly. You didn’t want him thinking he was broken, more so than he thought he was already. And you definitely didn’t want to push him into fixing himself. So you didn’t tell him, even though you were pretty sure he knew, and you just let him take the lead.
Sometimes it meant he grabbed your hand in large crowds, or tucked you under his arm when he was threatened. Other times it meant laying his head in your lap when he was tired late at night, or a soft hug in greeting.
Hands slowly tracing his spine, fingers dancing up and down his back, you gave a small smile when you felt him practically purring in your embrace. You could never decide if he was more puppy or kitten. You used to make jokes about the three of them, Steve, Bucky, and Sam, being like a puppy, kitten, and bird that you had to reluctantly pet sit for a friend. You would give almost anything to be joking around like that with them when you went to visit Bucky in Wakanda with Steve.
“Buck?”
He hummed. You didn’t want to pull back, you wanted to stay connected with him for as long as possible, but you had to talk. You didn’t want to talk about it, because that would make it more real, but you had to. You had to.
“Have you seen the news recently?”
His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pulling down. “What happened? Is it Wanda?”
You looked down the hall, your lips pressed together tightly, before nodding inside. “We have to talk.”
He nodded, stepping back and pulling you inside. Seeing the makeshift bed on the floor against the far edge of the sofa made you inwardly sigh, but you didn’t say anything about it. Steve was the same way at first.
“Is she okay? Did you find her? Where-”
“It’s not Wanda.” Turning, you faced him, trying to control your own anger at the situation, knowing it wouldn’t help him any. “It’s…it’s about Steve.”
Those spectacularly blue eyes narrowed, bottom lip being sucked in between his teeth. “What about Steve?”
You gestured for him to come closer, holding out your hand in offering. He took it and followed you as you led him to the couch. A cleared throat and a deep breath later found you gently explaining what happened to him. That the government had taken back the shield and had given it to someone else. A ‘hero just for America’. A ‘new Captain America’.
You could see his features harden with every word, his jaw ticking dangerously, his chest heaving and his nostrils flaring. You squeezed his hand as you finished. “He’s got meetings and stuff with senators and governors. They’re taking him on a tour this week. They-they want me to meet him, considering I’m the last of the original seven. Active on Earth, at least.”
The tears that started forming in his eyes made you swallow your own emotions down thickly. He didn’t need your hatred of this wannabe to fuel his own. He needed your support and comfort. He needed to know you’d be by his side through this.
“Are you?”
You blinked, not expecting his first words to be that question. “Am I what?”
“Going to meet with him?”
“I-I…” You stopped talking, knowing that if you continued you’d end up ranting about how he wasn’t your captain. How he could never be your captain. Debating answers, you decided on a simple, blunt reply. “No.”
“Why…”
Running your thumb over his knuckles, you leaned over slowly to press a chaste kiss to his bare skin and blood shoulder. “Take your time. Collect your thoughts.”
He responded to your words by taking a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut, his jaw so tight you feared he might chip his teeth. It was a tense minute before he said anything, the room being filled with his harsh breathing. “You said he gave them the shield.”
“What?”
“Yesterday. You told me he gave up the shield. They put it in the Smithsonian. But you just said they took it from him.”
“He did give it to them, but-”
“Why?” His eyes snapped open, his features twisting into ones of frustration and resentment. “Why’d he give it to them?”
You shook your head, knowing Sam didn’t mean for any of that to happen. He had called you a few weeks ago to ask about your opinion on the matter. You told him that Steve trusted him, and you trusted Steve, so if Sam thought that was the right thing to do…you trusted him. “It’s not Sam’s fault. Don’t be mad-”
“Don’t be mad?! Don’t be mad?!” Bucky shot up, ripping his hand away from yours, making you bite your lip and hang your head as he paced in front of you. “Steve gave it to him! And he just gives it away like he’s regifting a shitty frisbee as a Christmas present! And you don’t want me to be mad?! Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N?!”
Cringing at the use of your name, which you rarely hear fall from his lips, especially in vexation like just then, you looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Bucky, I get it. I do. I’m mad, too. I’m-I’m furious. But you can’t blame Sam. Please. He just - he’s trying, Buck. Just like me. Just like you. We’re all trying.”
Bucky’s shoulders fell as he stared at you, eyes darting from feature to feature as he studied your face. Before you could say anything else, he was on the floor in front of you, in between your legs, arms wrapped around your waist and face pressed into your stomach.
You could tell he was holding something back - something big - but you wouldn’t push him. You never did. Displaying feelings was always hard for him, even in the early 1900’s; Steve used to tell you stories when you were looking for him after the fiasco in DC. Bucky grew up being the oldest of four and the only boy. On top of that, his best friend was a scrawny, stubborn, punching bag of a boy. According to Stevie, neither of them really learned how to cope or how to deal with feelings. And it showed. Boy, did it show.
Instead of getting on him and asking what was wrong and begging for him to talk to you, your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, as you sat back to make the position more comfortable for him.
“Stay with me. I need you.”
You leaned down to press a soft kiss to his head, nodding into his hair. “I’ll stay. For as long as you need me, Buckaroo.”
Taglist (OPEN):
@happygoreading, @thatsdarwinism, @satellitespidey
#cjsinkythoughts#cjswriting#cjsspoilers#fatws spoilers#tfatws spoilers#falcon and the winter soldier spoilers#fatws#falcon and the winter soldier#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x avenger!reader#bucky x avenger!reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#cjsfatws#❤🐦💙🦾#💙🦾#💙🦾🥺#fatws pt 2#fatws series
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(Don’t You) Shy Away — Spencer x Fem!Reader
summary: Reader is supposed to be away for the weekend for her cousin’s first art gallery opening. Spencer takes the time to dip his toes back in the water of an old treat he hasn’t trusted himself with since Mexico. Reader comes home early to find him… A little preoccupied.
a/n: this is my first time actually posting a written fanfic/blurb on tumblr since like,,, 2015?? please be gentle i’m doing my best and cannot get this scenario out of my head this is 10000% self-indulgence. please let me know in the replies if i’ve missed any tags or warnings!
pairing: post season 12!spencer x fem!reader
warnings: 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI! masturbation, voyeurism, anal play, pegging, use of sex toys (dildo, cock ring, vibrator), switch!Spencer, switch!Reader, implied sexual assault (while Spencer was in prison) [no graphic depictions], coming untouched, multiple orgasms, use of pet names, unprotected sex (always practice safe sex, in this fic reader and spencer are actively trying to have kids), creampie, aftercare, depictions of dropping after a scene, use of she/her pronouns for reader.
words: 6.0k
Twenty-six hours and twelve minutes.
That was how long it had been since ____ had left, a suitcase full of far-too-expensive clothes in tow as she headed out for the opening of her cousin’s first art exhibition in New York for the weekend. Spencer had declined the invitation to join his fiancé, as seeing his knowledge of the art world was… Limited, at best. Sure, he could explain how the works were made, and could profile what each piece meant, but in a post-modern art gallery, that wasn’t always what people wanted to hear. So, instead, he had kissed ____ sweetly, told her to send his well wishes and congratulations to her cousin, and then she was off on her way.
Which left him home alone for thirteen more hours.
He hadn’t been left truly alone in a long time— Though he knew exactly how many days it had been since he gained his freedom again, he chose not to think about it for his own peace of mind. A form of coping, he called it. Still, it had been months since it had just been him to keep himself company. He’d finished the small bit of laundry that hadn’t been done two hours ago, and washed the dishes six hours prior to that. As usual, he’d finished three books before deciding to take a rest, played himself at chess a few times and even took a small cat nap on the couch.
Twenty-seven hours and forty-four minutes since she had left, and ____ wasn’t due home for another twelve hours.
Sighing deeply, Spencer slowly sat up from the couch, raking long fingers through the haphazard mess of his curls and making a mental note to himself to have ____ give his hair a bit of a trim when she got home. She loved everything about his hair— She was the one who had managed to get him to finally start taking proper care of it after years of letting the two-in-one shampoo and conditioner do a number on those impossibly soft strands. Of course, having his hair trimmed usually meant having it… Played with, afterwards. ____ had a naughty little habit of tugging it just right and making his back arch, giving a little nibble to the nape of his neck and making him groan as she teased him. It had been a long while since they had done anything even remotely beyond that— After Mexico, it was like everything they had gone through together was hit with a hard reset, all the way down to the simplest of touches beyond hugs and hand-holding.
But he had grown since then. Though he no longer could handle gags of any kind, and still yellowed-out more often than not when it came to restraints, Spencer had come a long way from where he had been left at after those grueling three months. Standing up and realizing that he had the perfect opportunity to finally try and see where his boundaries stood with an old favorite, he shed his cardigan on the couch, leaving his phone in the pocket of it without a care. It had been only four days since he and ____ had last had sex, but he really had to think about the last time he had actually gotten off on his own, without his fiancé there with him, coaxing him to keep going or edging him for hours.
“Fuck,” Just thinking about his lover, with her big doe eyes and coy smile, cooing to him with her hand around the base of his cock that he was such a good boy, that he only had to wait a little longer before he could come— His hand drifted down to palm himself through the material of his jeans, teeth worrying into the soft skin of his bottom lip at the memory. Even better still was the memory of years before; back when they had still been but bumbling twenty-somethings, both of them still inexperienced and desperate and willing to try almost anything.
“Are you sure you wanna try it, Spence? We don’t have to— I know I already said I suggested it as a joke and I meant it! Please tell me you understand that if you don’t wanna do this, you can back out and I’ll completely understand—!”
“____,” Spencer cut off his girlfriend’s nervous rambling with a gentle but steady shift to cup her cheek, “I-I— I want to do this, okay? I just… I-I’ve… Never touched myself down there before. I know it can feel good, and that’s… Why we agreed to test it out. I-I’m just… Kind of nervous and embarrassed at the same time? If… That makes sense? I just— I want to do this. I promise,” His voice went a tad bit softer at the end, “I trust you to take care of me and make me feel good, ____.”
“Come on, love, where the hell did you hide it this time?” Spencer whispered to himself, carefully rummaging through their box of toys and trying to ignore how his cock throbbed impatiently as he passed over one of their vibrators. Some instinctual part of his body just seemed to know how good the toy had made him feel before; how it had brought him to the brink over and over and over again while he was being punished for mouthing off during a case. How his ruthless lover had held it against the hypersensitive head of his cock for what felt like hours despite the ring around his base keeping him from coming. A small shudder ran through him as he skimmed over said cock ring, his body remembering with perfect clarity how he had finally come so hard he had nearly blacked out for a moment, no cum even escaping him and a wail tearing through his throat from the raw, unadulterated pleasure.
“Spence— Spence, baby, baby, hey— Look at me, baby, can you look at me? Are you with me, sweetheart?” ____’s soft voice was just barely audible over the ringing in his ears, and Spencer managed a small nod. “Okay, good… You’re doing so good for me, baby. Can you talk right now?” A small shake of his head before he felt himself pitch forward ever-so-slightly, a strangled whimper escaping him as ____ easily caught him against her chest, the skin-to-skin contact grounding him. “Shh… I’ve got you, Spence. You’re safe with me… You came so hard I was afraid you had blacked out on me,” She admitted, carefully pulling Spencer’s gangly form into her lap with practiced ease.
“Didn’ mean… D-Didn’ mean t’… Tried t’ be good… Couldn’ stop it,” His voice felt thick and alien on his tongue as he spoke, head tucking into the known safety of his lover’s arms. ____ had always known how to care for him exactly the way he needed after each scene, no matter how tame or intense. It went the same way with him, but his eidetic memory made it far easier to remember how his lover tended to him.
As ____ held him, stroking her fingers carefully over the planes of his back, he felt his eyelids growing heavier, trying stubbornly to droop shut and give in to his body’s cry for sleep. Thankfully, he didn’t have to fight off his impending cat-nap— He knew his lover would be there to tend to him as soon as he awoke. Even if it meant they didn’t complete everything they had initially planned for the night, ____ would never grow truly angry with him for needing to take a break between sessions.
“Fuck,” Spencer breathed as he finally found what he was looking for in the box— A six-inch dildo; thin and a tanned, fleshy pink. It was the one ____ had used on him as a strap-on many times before, when they were younger and more desperate to figure out exactly what made the other tick. Swallowing hard, the brunet carefully grabbed the toy and the disinfectant that they made sure to always keep in the toy box, taking it to the en suite bathroom of their bedroom and carefully cleaning the toy of any dust that had collected. His pants were already starting to feel almost painfully tight against his cock, his hand moving down to palm against it and provide even just a tinge of temporary relief and some much-needed friction. Once the toy in his hands was cleaned to his standard, he went back to the bedroom, biting his lip as he stripped down to his boxers and settled onto the plush sheets of their bed. Already, his breathing was ragged and strained, soft pants escaping his bitten lips as he lazily palmed himself, letting his mind wander where it wished.
“It may be a little cold at first, I tried to warm it up,” ____ warned, her finger carefully dipping down to stroke between his legs first. Spencer just nodded slowly, exhaling deeply through his nose and trying to ignore how his breath hitched as her first finger pressed into him, not even half-an-inch in yet. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine— I-It just… Feels odd. Not bad, just… I-I need a second,” Spencer mumbled, letting his head tuck into the soft pillows cocooning them and whimpering openly as ____’s finger moved carefully in small circles just inside his rim. His hips jerked involuntarily, and he whined as she shifted to hold them still with her forearm, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Ngh, fuck,” Curses slipped from his lips so much easier now, especially as he fumbled open the bedside drawer and grasped at the well-loved bottle of lubricant. He had shimmed his boxers down to his mid-thighs, now, breathing harder and face stained a lovely crimson as he stroked himself. He knew better than to grip too hard too fast and ruin the fun early, quietly sinking his teeth into his bottom lip again as he let his thumb skim over the slit, hips bucking into the touch instinctively. He let himself sink deeper into the pillows, legs slowly spreading open and hands shaking.
“I’m gonna add the rest of my finger in now, Spence, okay?” ____’s voice was sugar-sweet in his ear, lavish kisses trailing just behind it; down the pale column of his throat to his collarbones like dripping honey.
His head felt hazy already, and he gave another undignified whimper as the rest of his lover’s finger sunk into him, the heat that had cooled slightly in his belly reigniting as she gripped his hip with her free hand to prop him up a bit higher, giving her easier access.
“Such a good boy for me, Spence… You’re taking me so well already, it must feel good, huh?” She was starting to fall into a more dominant role already, her loving words only making the other whimper and squirm.
“Oh, fuck,” Spencer’s breath hitched sharply as he sunk his finger inside himself, head falling back against the pillows once more and eyes fluttering shut. It had been at least three years since he had done anything of the sort like this, and it was quickly bringing back vivid memories of all the times before that his ruthless lover had turned him to putty in her hands just with a few careful quirks of her fingers. He lifted his hips a bit more, a small shudder running up his spine as the pad of his index finger just missed the spongey flesh of his prostate.
“Fuck! R-Right there, Miss, please!” Spencer could barely keep his voice steady as ____’s finger brushed against his sweet spot, tears of pleasure burning at the corners of his eyes, threatening to drip down his cheeks.
“Aw, was that your good spot baby? Hm? You need to tell me what it is you want me to do, baby, otherwise I won’t know how to make you feel good,” ____ cooed, her finger now purposefully avoiding the area.
Spencer all but sobbed impatiently, his legs quivering and hips lifting up on his own accord. “P-Please, Miss, I-I need more,” He pleaded, giving a strangled gasp as ____’s free hand grabbed at the sharp lines of his jaw and turned his head to properly look at her.
“Look at me when you speak, baby boy, it’s impolite not to,” She ordered, a second finger now circling the twitching rim of her poor, needy boyfriend.
“I-I’m sorry Miss, please— I-It felt so good, please, I need—!” Spencer was cut off by ____’s second finger sinking into him without warning, his eyes going wide before they wrung shut, a loud mewl of pleasure escaping him. His hand scrabbled to grasp at the base of his cock clearly trying to stave off his impending orgasm before it could wash over him. Thankfully, ____ chose to ignore the motion— She knew that, since it was his first time with any kind of anal play, she should go easy on him.
As he finally managed to sink a third finger into himself, Spencer could only grip at the base of his cock just enough to keep himself together— Any tighter and he risked it causing the opposite effect. Sweat was already dripping past the toned, smooth planes of his back and down his chest, and a part of him wished he’d had the foresight to tie part of his hair back. It was too late for that now, though; A pitiful sense of emptiness that he hadn’t felt in years was bubbling up in the pit of his stomach with each curl of his fingers. His heart was pounding already, and he gave a ragged groan deep in his throat as his index finger skimmed over his prostate again, back arching up into the touch as if he wasn’t in complete control of his own fingers.
“Do you think you’re ready now, baby? You’re opened up so pretty for me, sweet boy. I think it’s time to give you what you’ve been waiting for, hm?” ____’s voice in his ear had Spencer bucking his hips back desperately, mind already completely fogged over from the haze of pleasure threatening to leave him nothing more than a mewling mess.
“Yes, yes, Miss, please!” He practically wept, head burrowed back into the safety of the pillows to try and muffle his noises.
“Ah-ah, baby… Come on now, sweetheart, you know better than to try and hide those beautiful noises you make. You know I can’t give you a treat if you break the rules, honey,” ____’s hand was still curling dutifully within him, always just shy of full-on fucking his prostate directly, and it was leaving his head practically blank beyond how good it felt.
“I-I’m sorry— I’m sorry, Miss, I’ll be good. Please, I-I need it so badly, Miss, please!”
“Please,” His voice sounded so utterly wrecked that at first it didn’t even register that it was him pleading out to the open air for more. Finally deciding that he was ready enough to take it without harm, he pulled his fingers away, whining weakly as his thighs burned in protest from the unused angle. Thankfully, he did have the foresight to keep a towel and some water nearby for cleanup, making sure to clean off his hands with some hand sanitizer before he finally grasped at the toy he could already feel an old, desperate part of his mind aching for.
His body clearly remembered just how good the toy had helped him feel before, his heavy cock twitching against the slight softness of his abdomen, precum smearing against his flushed skin and making him moan out. He was still careful to properly lube up the toy, slipping a condom onto it for ease of clean-up more than anything else before he shifted back into the most comfortable position he could manage. His eyes fluttered shut, a ragged noise spilling from deep in his throat as he let the tip sink in. A small part of his mind tightened in panic, flashes of grubby hands holding on his wrists and hips tight enough to bruise threatening to bubble up to the surface. Thankfully, though, he forced himself to remember something much better, brows creasing and breaths escaping him in rough little gasps.
“H-How much is in, Miss?” His voice sounded so breathless, so fucked and raw already, that ____ had to clench her thighs together to halt the instinct to buck forward into her lover.
“Only half of it, baby. Do you need me to wait?” She whispered, moving to cup Spencer’s cheek and feeling her heart melt a bit in adoration as he nosed against her palm with a contented whine. “Use your words please, sweet boy. I know you can, you’ll be so good for me if you use your words. Can you be a good boy for me, sweetheart?” Her loving coos were met with Spencer nodding eagerly, his mouth falling open to give a soft moan before he spoke.
“I can take more, Miss,” Spencer panted, taking ____’s thumb into his mouth and suckling on it to prove his point— It had ____’s breath hitching sharply, feeling her lover’s deft tongue lapping and suckling on her finger like his life depended on it.
“Do you want me to fuck your mouth with my fingers, baby? Hm? You’re suckling them like you want me to fuck your cute little throat, sweet boy,” ____ leaned down to Spencer’s ear, pressing her thumb down a bit harder on his tongue and reveling in the choked mewl of pleasure he gave in response.
“Please, Miss,” Spencer’s words were slurred from the pleasure as he finally sunk down completely on the stationary toy, thighs quivering visibly from the exertion and chest heaving out every few moments. He was honestly trying to collect himself and adjust before he came too soon and ruined the fun— It was a struggle. His back arched up slowly as he let his right hand drift down to his cock from where it had been gripping the sheets below him, a strangled whine slipping from his throat as he wrapped his large palm around the steadily-leaking base of his desire and need.
He was so wrapped up in his own world, jerking at his aching cock as he slowly began to raise and lower himself on the toy, that had he missed the sound of the garage door opening and closing— As had he neglected to hear the chime of the alarm system going off from the garage entrance to their condo.
Thus, as ____ walked into their bedroom, she most certainly wasn’t expecting to find her fiancé, jerking himself off with three of his fingers in his mouth, eyes shut in pure bliss and broken mewls of please and more spilling from his swollen lips every few time he sunk his hips down.
“Holy shit,” ____ squeaked, heat dropping straight to her core at the sight. She had been trying to call her lover to let him know the gallery had wrapped up a bit early due to her cousin scoring an interview with a rather prestigious and well-liked collaborative of environmental artists. She hadn’t been able to get ahold of Spencer, but, considering the late hour, she had written it off as him being asleep.
Spencer still had his eyes shut, thighs burning in the best way possible at this point and chest heaving with exertion. He pulled his fingers away from his mouth; the clumsy, less-practiced movements of his left hand clearly not as good as his dominant hand. Before he could swap hands, though, his eyes blinked open just the smallest bit, revealing to him a slightly blurry figure at the doorway of the master bedroom.
“Spence,” ____ breathed, rushing over to him before he could panic at the sight of someone suddenly being in their room, “God, baby, what’s all this?” She whispered, cupping at Spencer’s jaw and reveling in how the stubble there scratched at her fingers.
“____,” Spencer’s voice was practically wheezed out, strung-out and high in his throat from the pleasure still thrumming through his veins, “You’re home early… I wanted to… T-To try,” He could barely gather his thoughts further before he was surging forward like a man possessed, lips crashing together with the far softer set of his lover’s own. He could taste the tinges of the sweet wine she must have had at the gala on her tongue, and cupped her jaw feverishly, trying to pull her closer.
Finally, ____ had to break away for air, breathing hard and tangling her fingers through Spencer’s hair to keep him from whining and trying to kiss her again. “Baby,” She whispered, instinctively holding onto his hip with her free hand to try and keep him still, “Were you making yourself feel good?”
Spencer just nodded, eyes all glassy and dazed as he caught his breath. “I don’t want to stop,” He whispered, starting to squirm a little and trying to rock his hips back down on the toy still seated within him.
“Baby, I need to know if you’re here with me enough to do a scene,” ____ had a feeling Spencer was a bit too far gone in the pleasure to properly agree to a scene, and lo-and-behold, Spencer’s brows furrowed a bit in thought before he shook his head, curls falling into his eyes.
“It feels too good,” He whined, “I don’t wanna stop— I just want to feel you,” He pleaded, groaning breathlessly in relief as ____’s hand loosened it’s stilling hold on his hip, allowing him to properly rock back down on the dildo still seated within him.
“Okay, baby. We can do that,” ____ nodded, pulling away for a moment and feeling heat throb insistently between her legs at the desperate whine of protest that spilled from Spencer’s swollen lips. “I have to be able to take my clothes off, baby, it’s okay—!” She was cut off with a squeak of surprise as Spencer tugged her close again, nimble fingers easily pulling the buttons of her silken blouse open and unclasping her bra with far-too-practiced ease.
“Need you now,” Spencer practically growled, promptly starting to layer rough, hungry kisses all across the span of her chest, biting at her collarbones and suckling dark marks there. ____ could barely manage to gather her thoughts enough to lift her hips and tug down the pressed white slacks of her pantsuit, crying out softly as Spencer’s greedy palm dove down to her dripping wet core, shoving her panties to the side just enough to dip his fingers into her.
“Fuck, Spence— Let me get my pants off and I’ll ride you,” She whispered, her own hands moving to grasp at his hips again, feeling how he was still rutting down against the toy like his life depended on it. He gave a hitched groan deep in his throat at the idea, and as she pulled up for a moment to kick off her pants, she couldn’t help but grin. “Does that sound good, sweetheart? Huh? You’re so needy you want more than just my sweet cunt wrapped around your thick cock? Huh? You need to be fucked, too?” She whispered against her ear, the shudder that rocked up her lover’s spine making her whine in approval.
“I didn’t think you were going to be home early,” Spencer huffed against her shoulder, making an annoyed noise as she gripped his hips firmly again to keep him still.
“Relax, baby. I don’t want you moving while I’m trying to get situated— Let me take care of you,” ____ soothed, seeing the look of discontent on her lover’s face as he was prevented from fucking himself back on the toy again. The tension quickly dissipated from his face as ____ pushed her panties to the side, pulling his fingers from her depths and sinking down to him in one smooth motion.
A choked whimpering noise slipped from Spencer, his eyes rolling back before they fluttered shut, body sinking into the pillows once more. “Oh my god,” His voice was strained, like his sanity was being held on by nothing but a thread. “Fuck— Fuck, oh my fucking god,” A slew of desperate little curses were spilling from his lips like a mantra, and ____ couldn’t hold back a squeak of surprise as his hips bucked up almost helplessly, like he couldn't control how his body was reacting to how good it felt. A part of ____ was reminded of their first time together, all those years ago, when they were still in their first few years at the BAU and wanted only to please the other.
“Use me however you want, baby,” ____ encouraged, seeing how feverishly her lover was rolling his hips down onto the toy beneath him and dipping down to kiss him, “Or do you want me to ride you properly while you fuck your needy little hole?” She offered, relishing the way Spencer nodded weakly, clearly too lost in the throes of his own pleasure to respond. Grinning, she gladly did exactly that— Milking around his cock each time he sunk down onto the toy within him and grinding her hips each time he rose up.
Spencer had become nothing more than an incoherent mess at that point, eyes rolled back from the sheer amount of pleasure overwhelming his every movement and thought. All he could do was choke out whining, pleasured little babbles of how good it felt, trying to comprehend which to turn towards to more. On one hand, his lover’s sweet, velvety heat swallowed around him like it was made just to make him lose his sanity, undulating his every move with another ripple of bliss. On the other hand, every time his hips rocked back, the rubbery head of the dildo within him fucked right up into his prostate, sending pleasure sparking down his spine with only a trail of burning want in its wake. It was like being caught between a rock and a hard place, but in the best way possible.
“Are you getting close, baby?” ____ murmured, feeling how her lover’s movements were growing more wild and frantic, as they always did when he was getting close to his limit.
Spencer could only nod, his eyes wringing shut and hands gripping at her thighs and hips for dear life— He needed something to anchor him to reality, otherwise the pleasure threatening to swallow him whole may just wash away what little sanity he had left. He was a man drowning in a sea of paradise, and ____ was his anchor, keeping the tides from washing him away. “Fuck,” He nearly sobbed, voice strangled and high in his throat, “I-I can’t— God, fuck, it feels so good,” Tears were pooling just beneath his eyelids, voice hitching higher yet as ____ sunk down deep onto him, hell bent on milking him for everything he had. “Please— P-Please, fuck, I-I’m gonna come— Please, please, please—!” The coil of heat boiling in his belly finally snapped, hips fucking up feverishly into the luxurious heat still wrapped around his cock. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks as he rode out the high, body collapsing into the pillows as his back arched up, quaking visibly and abdomen tensing up every few moments as he struggled to get a handle on the molten desire setting his every nerve on fire.
____ sobbed out as soon as Spencer came, barely able to catch her breath as his large palms gripped at the sensitive flesh of her thighs and hips like a man possessed, effectively keeping her in place. She could feel him twitching and rutting his hips up into her even as he came, painting her insides as if to claim every last inch of her as his. Only when she heard her name spill from her lover’s swollen lips did she finally reach her own limit, instinct taking over for a moment as she pressed herself forward into his arms, head tucking into the crook of his neck. She gave a small whimper as Spencer’s arms hugged back around her torso, clinging openly to her as they rode out the intensive aftershocks of their respective orgasms.
It was ____ who finally started to untangle them, having caught her breath and regained her senses enough to realize that Spencer was more likely in dire need of aftercare. “Spence, sweetheart?” She started softly, trying to pull herself up to sit up and frowning at the familiar cry of pain from hypersensitivity tore from Spencer’s throat the instant she moved. “Shit— Okay, okay, honey, here, I’m gonna pull off, okay? Breathe for me, pretty boy, you’ve done so good for me,” Her babbling came naturally— She could already tell from just how intense everything had been that it was a near-guarantee that Spencer was going to drop; the question was how much was she going to be able to cushion his fall. Gently raising her hips up, she felt her heart ache at how Spencer pressed his head deeper into her shoulder to muffle the whimper that slipped past him. “It’s alright, love. I’m gonna help clean you up, okay? You were so, so good for me, Spence. Can you keep being good and let me help take care of you now?” She asked, sighing in relief as he needed against her shoulder.
Spencer was still trembling within her arms, his breath hitching sharply and body jerking involuntarily as ____’s hand moved down to try and carefully part his legs. “Nn-nnh!” He thought she was trying to go for another round, and knew he would surely pass out.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Spence. I’m just gonna get the toy out and then we can go and calm down in the bath, okay? It’s all okay, you’re safe with me,” ____ murmured, helping him settle back against the pillows again and soothingly stroking at his chest as she helped him spread his legs open again. “It may feel a little tender for a moment, love, just close your eyes and breathe with me, okay?” She instructed, slowly counting to three before she took the base of the dildo and started to pull it out. Her heart clenched painfully at the cry Spencer gave once it was out, legs pressing together to try and protect himself from further overstimulation.
He already knew he was dropping, even with ____’s loving touches and soothing words— His head felt foggy, like it was hazed over, and a small part of him began to panic at the uncomfortably familiar feeling. “____,” He whispered, voice strained, “‘m— I-I think I’m dropping,” As soon as he managed to choke the words out, he was pulled into ____’s embrace without a moment to even figure out what was going on. He was practically in her lap, a weighted blanket being tucked around his shoulders and head cradled in the crook of her neck as she began to slowly stroke his hair.
It had been a long time since he had dropped so hard he ended up needing aftercare this intense.
A tiny part of him was almost embarrassed— When they had been younger, it was a common experience for both of them. They simply hadn’t had enough experience to know the signs of a drop as it was coming, and had to find out the hard way each time what could happen if they weren’t watching out for it. But now? He had seen and experienced so much in his life, and all it took was too much pleasure to send him right back into his fiancé’s arms, shaking like he was a twenty-something again.
“Spence?” ____’s name broke through the mile-a-minute thoughts circling through his brain with ease, and he finally managed to crack open his eyes enough to look at her.
____ could already see the conflict in Spencer’s mind just from those big, beautiful puppy eyes of his. The pupils that had been blown so wide they’d left his eyes nearly black before were now shrinking back down again, revealing the endless pools of hazel in their wake— And said pools of hazel were doing nothing to hide the anxiety and doubt written on his features. His brows had the smallest creasing between them, lower lip partially sucked in between his bottom teeth, jaw tight and Adam’s apple bobbing hard each time he swallowed.
“Hi, love,” ____ didn’t pay any mind to the way Spencer’s sweat-dampened curls stuck to her fingers as she cupped his jaw, tilting his head to look at her. “Come on out of that big brain of yours for me. Just for five minutes. I can already see that look on your face— The one that tells me right about now, you’re starting to think that all this care shouldn’t be necessary for someone who’s seen as much as you have. Am I right?”
Spencer nodded, slowly pressing his cheek into her soft palm before he lifted a hand to cover her’s in his own. “I’m sorry,” He murmured honestly— Not for dropping. No; he was apologizing for allowing his traitorous thoughts to doubt that he was still worthy of ____’s love and care. “This is the first time I’ve… It hasn’t been this intense since…” He didn’t need to say the words aloud for ____ to know what he was referring to.
“And that’s perfectly okay. While I can’t say I claim to know what possessed you to decide that tonight was the night you were going to ride a dildo like your life depended it while I was gone for the weekend, I can say that I know no matter the circumstances, before, during or after, I will always be here to take care of you no matter what you need. No matter if it’s just a glass of water and some cuddles, or me babbling on about something I saw on the Internet for hours to see you smile… I will always love you, Spence. So don’t you try and shy away from it. If you ever feel yourself doubting how much I love you, you come over and tell me and I’ll hug you just like this, real tight, and I won’t let go as long as you need.”
Spencer felt his heart ache, adoration swelling in his chest until it felt about ready to burst. “If we weren’t already engaged, I would ask you to marry me,” He managed to crack a weak smile, the dimpled smile on his lover’s cheeks only making his own smile grow wider. “I love you so much,” He added, leaning back against her chest and letting himself just enjoy the soothing touch.
“You know I love you too,” ____ cooed, leaning down to press soft kisses all across Spencer’s face, cheeks and nose.
After a few minutes of quiet passed, Spencer finally looked up at ____ again, a tiny, playful smile curving over his lips. "So," He started, voice still a bit too soft in his throat to hold any true teasing intent, "Why did you come home early?"
____ laughed, the noise soft and melodic in Spencer's ears as he watched a smile that could rival sunshine in its warmth bloom on her face once more. "The gallery ended early. My cousin ended up scoring a pretty important interview with some big environmental artist collaborative, so I just took the train back home. You would know this if you actually checked your phone, Spence."
"I was a little preoccupied," Spencer reminded with a laugh.
"I'm well aware, love."
——————��
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