#need something to look foreward to

[fischlcatgirl]

My least evidence based headcanon rn... trans girl childe

[westanleovaldito]

Spencer when r stays up for him^^^

Please go to bed?

Summary: reader stays up to greet spencer. Fluff, kinda short

Forcing myself to sit down and write because i love writting and i need to do things i love for my mental health or else ill stay in my depressed HOLE!!!

𓆏 Spencer turned the handle, listening to every click, taking agonizing time so as to not let the hinges creak. He hated making any noise at this time, but now that you had moved in? He would go far enough to say that he was utterly repulsed by anything short of silent.

So he sighed in relief when the door made no noise. And he kicked himself when his first step into the apartment was just a loud creak.

He mentally counted seconds,

1... 5... 10... 15...

Upon the twenty second mark, he realized he was holding his breath. He sighed, with the same amount of relief he thought only possible in horror movies.

Then, he heard a creak to mimic his own. He strained his eyes into his pitch black room, seeing a faint silhouette.

He wasn't big on cursing, but he wanted to as he registered you coming closer.

"My Spence..."

The words made his heart ache. He was your Spence. Even in the dead of night, even as your barefeet padded on the cold floor, especially as your tired arms reached for him.

"I'm so sorry love," he sighed as he set his bag down. He quickly reciprocated your embrace. His arms were tight around your shoulders and your arms were loose and lazy around his waist.

He pulled away to press a kiss to your forehead before looking down at you, cupping your face. "Did I wake you?" He almost whispered, big, sad, brown eyes boring into you, trying to look for any tells.

"Mm-n" you hummed in response, shaking your head. Your eyes were tired, apathetic to your own needs and clearly more focused on greeting him. "You told me you were comming home and I just couldn't sleep without greeting you"

"Maybe I should stop telling you things"

He said it with a smile, but it made you pull him into a much tighter hug.

"No!" It was almost a pout as you forced your cheek into his shoulder. "I worry too much for that!"

He chuckled, kissing the top of your head. "Alright, I'm sorry," he murmured lovingly. He shuffled foreward slightly, holding you tight to him so you could catch yourself. "Let's get you to bed..."

You couldn't process his rambling- something about the importance of sleep?

Either way, you only let go to crawl into bed. You didnt care about the shuffling of his clothes- he was within ten feet of you! You had greeted him at the door! You already did what you stayed up to do.

But maybe it was enjoyable... being conscious, just half asleep, when you felt the matress dip. Or when you felt his arm wrap around your waist.

Your eyes unconsciously blinked open, seeking the sight of him. He smiled at the sight of his lover, tired and warm.

You made a small effort, despite it being a simple action, to pull him closer and pucker your lips. His smile widened as he obliged. It was a soft, quick kiss. Still, it left the both of you feeling content and fulfilled.

"G'night Spence... Love you..."

"Goodnight," he sighed, scooting close enough to wrap himself around you entirely. "I love you too- and thank you, for always letting me say it in person."

[princessbrunette]

just had the thought of rafe trying to massage bunny readers back but he got a little too rough :( and she gets teary eyed.

i wonder how he would react/apologize

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.

small groans left your throat as rafe dug his knuckles into the tired muscle of your back. he always was a little heavy handed.

he was also big on getting you to be grateful, too. small slaps to your cheek if you forgot to say thank you, regardless of where you were — or being thrown over his lap if you dare complain about something he provided you with. you liked it, it kept you in check — and yet, in your hazy, often confused mind, it occasionally blurred your boundaries.

rafe was doing something nice for you. he was rubbing your back because you told him it was hurting after he’d held you in an uncomfortable position during sex for too long. however, your skin was tender and your muscles sore — his hands worsening your already seemingly feeble condition. but, he was doing something nice. you didn’t want to complain.

“jesus, kid— why you so tense? would you relax a bit?” he sighs, thumbs sliding down either side of your spine. truth was, he was pressing too hard and it hurt — but you didn’t want to say anything, so instead you bite the inside of your cheek, closed your eyes and hoped it would be over soon. your eyes flutter open, staring at the pillow.

“oh, sorry.” you whisper, sucking in a deep breath as if to prepare yourself for how it might feel on untensed muscles before reluctantly relaxing. you expect him to continue, but he’s still behind you for a second, suspicious, squinting eyes boring into the back of you.

suddenly his hands are back on you, but only to gently take your shoulders so he could lean over you and get a look at your face— but with the touch you involuntarily tense up again. he’s frowning when he peers round at you, taking one look at your glassy eyes and tense jaw.

“whats the problem? somethings up, baby i— i can feel it.” he murmurs, not needing to project his voice so much given the distance of your faces. you blink sticky lashes at him, figuring there’s not much use lying now. guilty, you cast your eyes down.

“the massage is just hurting a little.”

when you look up at him, his face has fallen a little. rafe was no stranger to ‘hurting’ you, technically — but there were limits. it was on purpose. a cause and response.

“i…hurt you?” he enunciates, like he needs to be clear on the matter.

“s’not too bad.” it comes out barely audible and he shakes his head, backing up.

“nah that… was an accident, you know that right? i… wasn’t trying to hurt you—”

now you’re nodding, eyes wide. rafe was always a tad dramatic, but you didn’t expect him to feel guilty or anything. “i know, i know.”

he sighs, raking a hand over his jaw before looking back at you. “tell me that shit next time, okay? jesus.” he sighs and you nod, still somewhat feeling a little ashamed. you stare foreward, but your embarrassment is interrupted by an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your spine, and then one on your lower back.

“m’sorry. are we cool? yeah?” he drawls, lips brushing your warm skin. you nod, hoping he sees. he does, and gently but with expected ease rolls you over to face him.

“a uh… a shower would do you good, c’mon.” he stands up straight, taking a step before looking at you, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “dont tell me you need to be carried.”

“i do.” you giggle, lifting your arms.

“uh-huh. should’ve fuckin’ known. lucky i like doing everything for you, huh?” he chuckles, lifting you to go.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚₊˚⊹ ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.

[phoenixeclipse-lmkau]

Journey Cubs (JC) AU

Au idea~

Reader ends up pregnant right before the duo leave to fight the celestial realm. Unknown to her but she was also given an elixir of life to keep her alive during this time. However her 'death' happened and the duo thought she was dead.

After the brotherhood fails to conquer the celestial realm Reader is pulled back into the world. She settles down in a small village far into the mainland.

She lives peacefully with Spirit and they open an inn together. Neither of them age as they raise the twins Bao and Tao! The twins grow up and learn of their dads, both deciding to protect their mother from such men. Reader doesn't get with anyone else as the twins are VERY protective of her.

>>>

One day far into the future Reader is visiting Spirit’s mother's grave with her. Bao traveled with the two while Tao stayed behind to watch over the inn.

*Ding* *Ding*

Tripitaka jumped at the sound of the small bell above his head. He glared at the two monkey demons who laughed at his fear.

"Hello?" He called out into the silent inn, not a sound was made. There was no returned greeting nor was there sound of life. Looking back and forth he searched for anyone who may run the small inn.

"Looks like no one is here," Bajie muttered glancing around.

The group who was looking for a place to rest for the night groaned. They were at an actual inn, somewhere with beds and possibly blankets and no one was there to let them in! Wukong felt his jaw tighten, he was getting more and more annoyed at the group around him. Macaque was NOT heloing his annoyance either, he did not want to speak yo his fucking EX- husband at all. But he couldn't do anything about it while the circlet was still sround his FUCKING SKULL!

Wujing spoke up, "Then who is that?"

The group looked to where he was pointing. A head of white hair was laying on the counter, propped up by two white furry arms. A large hat covered his head if not for the hair sticking out around it, he wouldn't be very seen at all.

Macaque was the first to notice something odd, his shadow there was something different about it. His shadow wasn't like any he had seen on anyone else, his shadow... it was like his own! A pocket of space that swirled thickly with magic, and under complete control of the person it belonged to.

How did he have shadow magic?

He didn't get to say anything before his pain in the ass ex-husband jumped foreward. "Hello! We need rooms!"

His shout was met with an annoyed grunt, the man lifted his head and the whole group froze. A dark purple flared mask surrounded two bright golden eyes. A thick stripe of purple began at his lip and trailed down his chin. Six deep purple, lotus shaped ears fanned out as he proped his head in his hand.

"Is that so? You don't need to shout about it," he grumbled before letting out a loud yawn, showing off his sharp teeth.

"How many rooms will it be? Theres-" his ears fluttered before he continued, "six of you. So two rooms would be enough."

The group was too stunned to respond, this young man roughtly 20 looking looked just like Macaque. Aside from his ear and eye color, he looked like the spitting image of him. He raised a brow when he didn't get a response.

"Well. Do you want rooms or not?" He asked, snapping his teeth in annoyance a habit he picked up from his aunt.

"... who are you?" Wukong was the first to speak, anger building in his chest along with awe and shock. It was his eyes, the same eyes that matched his own. There was no way, it was impossible.

"The name is Tao, now a room or not? If you aren't here for a room then would you kindly LEAVE?" He growled before yawning again.

"No! We... we need a room. It's just surprising to see a monkey demon in these parts," Macaque spoke up, walking closer examining the shimmering fur and the bright eyes.

He didn't have a child, and the only one he'd ever been with... no she had died... right? Yes she was, it's possible that he was born from a storm like himself, or maybe from a stone like Wukong. There was that bright shimmering sun magic within him after all. Even if it was far less than the overwhelming amount of highly UNSTABLE shadow magic. Had he not been training? Does he realise what happens to those with unstable shadows!?

"Hmm? Riiiight... I suppose me and my brother are the only ones around," Tao nodded with an exadurated sigh.

The group was silent, awkwardly shuffling until Tao tossed them a set of keys. They were quick to file away to the rooms that Tao told them to go to. Macaque and Wukong hestitated for a moment, both wanting to talk but decided to wait... they needed to talk to him when the other wasn't around.

No one noticed Tao's sneer, his eyes darkening on the back of the two monkey demons. He had recognized them immediately, and rage swelled in his chest at the sight of them.

"Bao, keep mom in Spirit’s town until I tell you otherwise. We have unwanted pests" he muttered, knowing his voice would reach his brother. The wind never failed to give him the information when his name was spoken.

He would wait until they left. He wasn't going to start needless fighting but he wasn't going to just sit back if they did anything stupid. He would protect his mother from THEM no matter what.

[imaginespazzi]

This Little Love of Ours

Three times Paige and Azzi didn't go on a date and the one time they did

(In which an alternate universe writer finally returns to writing things in the real universe)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff and Angst

Words: 5.4K (sighs in *this was meant to be 2K* words)

TW: Light swearing, alludes to sexual content

A/N: Hi lovelies, I'm backkkk!! Gonna keep this short and sweet but this is basically me combining a bunch of prompts/requests into one. There's some creative liberty taken with logistics and as per usual, the editing exists but so do my typos. As always, let me know what you liked and what you didn't, as well as anything you'd like to see going foreward. Happy Juneteenth and I hope y'all have a lovely rest of your week <3

we were just kids (when we fell in love)

The streets of Minsk, Belarus are bursting with light and colour, the summer breeze enveloping the two girls walking riverside as they giggle over everything and nothing. They’re breaking curfew plus a hundred other rules right now and if one of their coaches ever found out, they’d be as good as dead. But there’s something about being out in the open with Azzi, being able to delicately brush palms and not worry about her jolting away in fear of being seen, that has Paige ready to be reckless. 

It’s been a year of learning Azzi, a year of discovering the little things that make her smile, a year of memorising the intricate stories that make her who she is. And Paige hides all these little details in a little treasure chest in the corner of her heart, bringing them out like little drops of lights when Azzi’s not by her side, and the darkness feels all-consuming. The thing is, Paige has never been attached to someone like this before, never felt like there was another half she needed to feel whole. She’d been an independent child, walls of steel barricading anyone from getting a glimpse into her vulnerability. For a long time, she’d been fine just living in the façade of being fine. But then she’d met Azzi. And all the walls had gone crashing down and it was okay not to be okay, because now while she held the weight of world, there was somebody there to hold her too. 

“Paigeeee,” Azzi squeals with delight, eyes fixated on a van across the road, “there’s an ice cream truck.”

Paige doesn’t get time to react before she’s being pulled along, the wind tornadoing around her body. And yet she feels warm and fuzzy inside, like there’s a blanket with Azzi’s name knitted into it, wrapped around her heart. 

“I’ll have the strawberry please,” Azzi smiles politely at the ice cream vendor, eyes sparkling with excitement, “P what are you getting?”

Paige grins, knowing her order is about to earn her a patented eye roll, “I’ll have the mint choc chip please.”

“You’re so weird,” the younger girl scrunches up her face and Paige suddenly has the urge to kiss her nose. 

They both know that they’re living inbetween blurred lines, on a trapeze balanced between friends and something more. It had been a whispered conversation of have you ever kissed a girl? do you wanna kiss a girl? do you wanna kiss me? that had led to a kiss Paige swears can never be topped, but they hadn’t spoken about it again. With them living in separate states, it had been easy to ignore that, that had ever even happened, both of them skilled players at the game of pretend. But it’s different now they’re back in each other’s orbit and every touch seems to linger on Paige’s skin long after Azzi’s hands have left her own. 

“You have no taste. It’s sooooo good,” Paige chides, making a show of licking her ice cream. When she looks at Azzi, she’s not expecting the way the shooting guard’s eyes have glazed over, fixated on Paige’s lips as she swallows nervously. An unfamiliar shiver tickles down Paige’s skin as they stand in silence, the air thick with a new tension. 

“It’s green,” Azzi says finally, voice coming out breathless, “that’s enough for me to know it tastes bad.”

“Don’t knock it til you taste it,” the blond holds out her cone as an invitation. 

When Azzi steps into Paige space, much closer than needed, she’s expecting Azzi to take the cone. She’s expecting that familiar jolt of electricity when their hands accidentally brush. Instead she feels herself being  mesmerised by Azzi’s face getting closer and closer til she can feel the younger girl’s breath fanning her face. She gulps, as Azzi presses her lips to the corner of Paige’s mouth, tongue darting out for the briefest of seconds before she’s pulling away. And despite the cool of the ice cream, every part of Paige feels like it’s burning. 

“I was wrong. Guess it tastes pretty good,” Azzi whispers, biting her lip. 

“You-I-what-” Paige splutters, struggling to form a coherent thought. 

Azzi giggles, clearly proud of herself  “Paige Bueckers speechless? Who thought I’d ever see the day?”

“You’re a fucking menace.”

“And proud of it.”

There’s the clichéd spring in Paige’s step as they continue to walk by the river. She shifts her ice cream cone to her left hand, letting the other one entangle with Azzi’s fingers. It’s nothing, the most mundane of things to hold her best friend’s hand, but it feels exhilarating, like it’s the start of something special. Determined, she tugs on Azzi’s hand to pull them to a stop. The Minsk waterfront dazzles behind them but Paige swears nothing’s glowing brighter than two of them in this moment. 

“Why are we stopping?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised quizzically. 

Paige smirks, a new surge of confidence taking birth in her stomach, “I wanted to try your ice cream too. You got a taste of mine, it’s only fair I get a taste of yours.” 

“Is that so?” Azzi hums, pressing herself against Paige, “too bad it seems like I’ve finished my cone then.”

“Yeah too fucking bad,” Paige agrees before crashing her lips against Azzi’s. 

***

Paige is exhausted at breakfast the next morning, barely registering the conversations that are buzzing around her. Her eyes are drooping from the lack of sleep and there’s a dull pounding in her head but she has no regrets. Last night had been everything. She can still feel every moment pulsating through her veins, her heart beating to the rhythm of Azzi Azzi Azzi. The younger girl hasn’t appeared for breakfast yet and Paige is itching to see her. They’ve been separated for barely a couple of hours, reluctantly heading to their own rooms after they’d gotten back, and Paige swears she’d missed the girl even in her sleep. 

“You got back late last night,” Cameron teases, sticking out a fork of fruit in Paige’s direction, “you two must have had a good time.”

“Yeah,” there’s a rare shyness in Paige’s tone, “yeah we had a great time.”

“Oooh are we talking about Paige and Azzi’s date last night?” Aliyah cuts in, a smirk playing on her lips. 

“It wasn’t a date,” Paige counters, suddenly feeling oddly defensive “it- it was nothing.”

Cam raises an eyebrow, “it seemed like a date.” 

“Well it wasn’t. It definitely was not a date.”

“You guys heard her,” Azzi's voice makes Paige freeze, something akin to guilt pooling in her stomach, “it definitely was not a date.”

Cam and Aaliyah raise their hands in surrender, turning back to whatever conversation they were engaged in before. Paige gulps as Azzi sits down in the empty spot next to her, body rigid. 

“I didn’t- I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Paige it’s fine. I get it.”

“You- you do?” Paige doesn't entirely know how Azzi can get it, not when Paige doesn’t even really get it herself. 

Azzi shrugs with fake nonchalance, “yeah, yeah I do and it’s okay. You’re right. It wasn’t a date.”

And it wasn’t. At least not by name. Paige knows that. Apparently Azzi knows it too. But everything about that feels wrong. Underneath the table, their hands intertwine subconsciously. Neither of them react. Neither of them pull away. It’s the start of something unspoken, something complicated, something beautiful and fragile and so, so volatile, something that’ll take them years to understand.

2. this all or nothing way of loving (got me sleeping without you)

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

Azzi fights the twitch in her hand that wants to reach out and grab her phone when that notification flashes on her screen. She musters up another fake smile at her date, hoping the girl in front of her hasn’t noticed the change in her demeanour. It’s ridiculous the way her body reacts to the most simple things when it comes to Paige. She hates it, hates the way it seems like she has no control over herself when it comes to the blonde. 

“Do you need to get that?” Anika asks, voice sweet as honey as she smiles at Azzi 

“No, no it’s just an insta notification. Nothing important. You were saying,” Azzi brushes it off, trying to keep her voice nonchalant. Anika seems satisfied with that as she returns back to telling Azzi about something her sister had done. Fidgeting in her seat, Azzi tries her hardest to keep her focus on the brunette, but her mind is whirring with curiosity about what Paige might have posted. 

The opportunity presents itself a couple of minutes laters, when Anika slides out of her seat to go to the bathroom. It’s a little embarrassing how quickly Azzi beelines for her phone, clicking on Paige’s story and immediately wishing she hadn’t. Anger and jealousy tighten their grip on her as she’s met with a picture of a caramel skinned, curly haired girl smiling at the camera, staring at Paige behind it, with that oh so familiar look of adoration. The text on the image reads in good company and Azzi feels bile rising up her throat. And she’s not allowed to feel this way, not when she and Paige had both agreed to turn their something into nothing but every day since that decision has felt a little bit like someone twisting a dagger into her heart, piercing further and further until she has no more blood left to bleed. 

She doesn’t notice Anika’s made her way back until she feels a warm hand on her shoulder, looking up to find concerned green eyes staring down at her, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” Azzi nods with a sense of calm she doesn’t feel, “you okay with me showing you off a bit?”

It’s a dangerous game she’s about to play, one of jealous retaliation that she knows will only make her feel better for a brief second before all the pain will flood back. But she reaches for her phone anyways, fighting the voices of logic and reason (that sound oddly similar to Colleen) in her head and instead giving into impulse. Anika beams at the camera, throwing up a peace sign, and Azzi’s heart stutters with guilt at how sincere her smile is. She snaps the picture, captioning it with  date night <3 and clicks post to close friends. Her heart beats erratically as she places her phone back on the table, trying to tune back into Anika’s conversation. It takes approximately three minutes for her phone to flash again.

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time Azzi doesn’t bother fighting the urge to look, a new adrenaline pumping through her veins. It’s a mirror selfie this time. The girl has her back pressed against Paige’s front as they pose in front of the bathroom mirror. Paige has one hand holding her phone while the other is sprawled against the other girl’s waist, where a silver belly button piercing shimmers against tan skin. There’s no text this time, just a red heart and that Paige-shaped hole in Azzi’s heart is starting to get larger and larger. 

“You wanna take a walk?” Azzi asks Anika, tearing her eyes away from the phone, “it’s nice outside.”

Anika smiles, rising from her seat and holding out a hand that Azzi gladly takes. It would be easier, Azzi thinks, if she could just fall in love with this girl. Someone less complicated, someone who had less power over her, someone who was here. But it’s a futile dream, her heart is spoken for and Azzi doesn’t think she’ll ever get it back. 

It's a beautiful winter night outside and there’s a pretty girl holding her hand. That’s all Azzi should be thinking about. Instead, her mind is stuck on the image from before and it’s that vision, welded behind her eyelids, that has her taking a picture of her and Anika’s intertwined hands. As she types out the caption, one that feels way too deep for a first date, Azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at herself. She can’t remember the last time she’d posted a story, let alone two in a row and now here she is, posting inauthentic story after story to win a losing game. 

paige bueckers has posted a new story to her close friends 

This time there’s at least 10 minutes before Azzi’s phone flashes with that notification again. Next to Azzi, Anika lets out a sigh, starting to become less amiable to the idea of her date constantly checking her phone. Azzi shoots her an apologetic look before her expression quickly turns stone cold at seeing the new picture. It’s a haphazardly taken, slightly pixelated, photo of Paige smiling and the girl kissing her cheek. And if Azzi was in any mood to analyse just a little further she’d notice that Paige’s smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, isn’t quite as wide as her real one. But there’s green fog clouding her judgement as she seethes internally, Anika’s soft touch doing nothing to calm her down. Tapping on Paige’s profile, Azzi fingers hover over the three dots on the upper left, as her petty side begins to take over. 

And then she hits block. 

***

“How was your date?” Paige’s mocking voice rings throughout Azzi’s childhood bedroom at almost 2 in the morning. She shouldn’t have answered the facetime call, should’ve held out for longer than just three missed calls and twelve angry texts. But Azzi has long realised that she’s putty when it comes to Paige. 

“How’s your girlfriend,” Azzi bites back. 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Right,” Azzi draws out the word with an eyeroll, “how’s your fuck buddy then?”

Paige closes her eyes, rubbing her temples. When she opens them, the angry hard-to-read Paige that she’s been dealing with for the last month is replaced by Azzi’s soft, sweet and vulnerable Paige. Being apart after having been together all through lockdown has been harder than either of them could have imagined. They’d just assumed it would be easy when Paige finally left for UConn, after all most of their relationship had been built while living in different states. But somewhere in between workouts at 6 am and movie nights with Azzi’s family, they’d gotten used to living in each other’s skin, forgetting just how difficult it was to be apart from each other.  

“I miss you,” Paige whispers, “all the time. I can’t wait til you’re here.”

I miss you too, so much that sometimes it’s the only thing I feel, Azzi thinks and really it’s what she should say, instead the bitterness wins out, “why? So I can see you and that girl being all coupley in person instead of just on instagram?”

“That’s not fair, Azzi. You said you wanted to be just friends for now. You said I should try with other people and now you wanna throw that back in my face?”

“It was mutual-”

“Bullshit,” Paige sneers, “don’t try and put that shit on me. You made the decision and I just went along with it.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have then,” Azzi says exasperatedly, blinking her eyes rapidly to keep tears threatening to fall at bay. They fall into silence, staring at each other through the screen with identical expressions of only you can hurt me, only you can heal me. Azzi wishes she could reach through her phone, pull Paige into her world and melt into the older girl.

“What do you want from me Az?” Paige asks softly. 

I just want you, Azzi thinks miserably. She wants to be beg Paige to end things with that other girl, wants Paige to tell her not go on anymore dates, want to go back to being something, but she can’t, not when she’s convinced herself that they need do this, go through a phase of being nothing, so that they can be everything someday. This whole idea had taken birth in her head out of the fear that this- the two of them not knowing anything but each other- would eventually lead to resentment, that they- that Paige- would wake up one day and realise there was so much more the world had to offer. So now Azzi’s playing the long game, trying to believe in the clichéd year old adage that you have to let the people you love go, and if they come back, they’re yours. And she hopes against hope that Paige will come back, because Azzi doesn't think she’ll survive anything else. 

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, instead of voice the other thoughts dancing on the tip of her tongue, “I’m sorry I’m being unfair.”

Paige’s eyes soften, “can we just- can we just talk about something else?”

And they do. They talk all night about everything and nothing, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s breathing. It’s that same nightly routine neither of them can fall asleep without. Because even if they’re both drowning in a sea of unspoken words, at least they’re sinking together, perhaps there’s some comfort in that. 

3. you make me smile (please stay for a while now)

Azzi stares at her reflection in the mirror for what feels like the thousandth time. She’s a bundle of nervous energy as she pats down her neatly ironed mini-skirt, adjusting her already perfectly-set crop top. It’s a little bit like how she feels before stepping on the court, dizzy with both nerves and excitement in anticipation. By all technicalities, this isn’t their first date. There’s probably friends and family who would argue this is closer to be their millionth or so date but nothing has ever been official. It just means more. 

She jumps a little when the doorbell rings at exactly 7 p.m. sharp, taking in a deep breath, before she opens the door. Paige stands outside in black pants with a black crop top and a multicolor cardigan, and a bouquet of pink roses in her hands. It takes Azzi about two seconds to realise that something’s wrong. Paige’s eyes are a feverish red and her smile is tired; it’s her all too familiar Paige is sick demeanour that Azzi’s quick to recognize after years of having seen it. The blonde opens her mouth to say something and instead all that comes out is a series of loud sneezes. 

“Oh baby,” Azzi gives her a sympathetic smile, reaching out to feel Paige’s forehead and then narrowing her head when she feels the heat, “P-”

“I’m fine,” Paige cuts her off, her voice gravelly, “just allergies.”

Azzi crosses her arms, knowing she’s about to deal with a petulant child, “I don’t think so. You’re clearly sick.”

“I don’t-,” Paige tries to disguise the cough in between her sentences, “-get sick.”

“Sure you don’t,” Azzi nods, as she tugs Paige inside, grabbing the flowers and setting them aside. Paige lets out grunts of protest, but her body is clearly too tired to fight back as Azzi guides them into her room. She goes into her closet first, finding an oversized shirt for Paige to change into. 

“You know the getting undressed part comes after the date right?” Paige raises an eyebrow, practically glaring at the t-shirt 

“We’re not going on a date.”

“WHAT? Dude I’m fine. I have a reservation and everything,” Paige whines in between coughs as she watches Azzi rummage through her drawers for medication, “it’s our first date. I had plans.”

“I’m not going on a date with you looking all snotty and congested like that.”

Azzi suppresses a laugh at Paige’s offended sequel, “what happened to sickness and health?”

“Pretty sure that’s a marriage thing,” she hands Paige the pills and a glass of water, that the older girl obediently takes.

“Well we’re eventually gonna get married so you need to get used to that,” it’s said so casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but it steals Azzi’s breath away, the words carving themselves into the walls of her heart. Sometimes she wonders if Paige understands the gravity of the things she says, understands how they make every part of Azzi come alive with hope for their future. She shies away from a smirking Paige, trying to hide the blush that’s creeping up her neck. 

“Just- just get changed,” she manages to stutter out. 

“I,” sneeze, “don’t,” cough, “want” sneeze, “to.”

“Paige.”

“Azzi.”

“You have to get better P or coach will kill us both if you end up missing practice.”

“Going on a date with you would make me feel better.”

“Okay,” Azzi sighs, realising she needs to change tactics, “we’ll make a compromise. You’re gonna change-” she raises a hand when Paige tries to interrupt, “you’re gonna change and lie down, and if you don’t fall asleep in the next 10 minutes, we’ll go on the date.”

Paige’s eyebrows furrow in concentration as she mulls it over, before a scheming glint appears in her eyes, “okay but on one condition,” her grabby hands reach for Azzi’s waist, a soft smile playing on her chapped lips, “you have to lie down with me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes fondly, letting the blonde pull her into her arms, her own hands encircling Paige’s back as the older girl snuggles into her neck with a content sigh. This is her happy place. In any room, anywhere, as long as she’s cocooned in Paige’s embrace, there’s a sense of serenity that seems to flood into Azzi’s veins. 

“I could fall asleep here,” Paige murmurs, hot breath fanning against Azzi’s collarbone, “you’re so comfortable.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to physically manoeuvre Paige onto the bed which only elicits a smirk against her skin. 

“If you wanted me in your bed Az, you could have just asked,” the older girl wiggles her eyebrows, earning her a small push from Azzi as Paige drags them both down into a mess of limbs and pillows. Cerulean blue eyes stare up at Azzi, a little bloodshot from the impending fever, but still blisteringly brilliant with love. It scares Azzi sometimes, to see all that emotion swimming in Paige’s eyes, all for her and it scares her even more to know that same pool of you’re it for me is reflected in her own too. Sometimes she worries they’re too young for this, too young to feel so much but then Paige smiles, and all of Azzi’s doubt flies away as she lets herself believe in forever. 

***

Paige doesn’t even really make it past five minutes, her sick body giving into the tiredness as she cuddles into Azzi, arms splayed over the younger girl's torso, as she keeps her head buried in her shoulder. There’s a content smile on her face as Azzi continues to run her hands through silky blond hair, brushing out tiny knots and waiting a couple of minutes, before she detaches herself from her girlfriend and heads to the kitchen. She’s not the greatest of chefs, but she’d like to think she’s skilled enough to try and make something that at least resembles chicken noodle soup. 

Azzi’s almost done when she feels a blanket being wrapped around her, two arms coming to wrap around her waist as she feels the weight of Paige’s chest pressed against her back, the older girl's head coming to rest in the crook of Azzi’s neck. 

“You’re already awake,” Azzi whispers, leaning her head back so she can brush her lips against Paige’s temple. 

Paige grunts, her voice nasally when she speaks, “you left and I was cold.”

“I have like three blankets on my bed you could’ve used.”

“Don’t wanna use blankets. Wanna use you,” Paige whispers, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s neck, making the younger girl shiver, “you’re much warmer.”

“Go pick out a movie to watch, I’m almost done with this.”

She can’t see it but Azzi can practically feel Paige’s raised eyebrows, as she dramatically sniffs the air, “you cooked? Babe I’m already sick, are you trying to get me sicker?”

“Wow. I slave over the kitchen for you for hours-”

“Maybe half-”

“HOURS! And you have the audacity to question my cooking when all you can make is buffalo chicken dip?”

“Hey, you love my buffalo chicken dip.”

“You keep telling yourself that baby.”

“It’s not nice to be  mean to your sick girlfriend,” Paige snickers as she makes her way to the couch in  Azzi’s room. 

“So you admit you’re sick then?” 

“Only sick to my stomach at whatever you’re gonna feed me.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, pouring the soup into a bowl. She secretly loves when they get like this. It’s a reminder that no matter what other label they eventually put on their relationship, Paige will always be her best friend first. As soon as Azzi sits down on the couch, Paige is all over her, knowing exactly how to shrink her body so that all 6’0 of her fits perfectly on her girlfriend’s lap. This is Azzi’s favourite version of Paige really, the soft vulnerable babygirl that’s only for Azzi’s eyes, a far cry from the ultimate rizzler the rest of the world sees.

“Feed me,” Paige pouts and Azzi shakes her head fondly but does as she’s asked, holding a spoonful of chicken noodle soup in front of Paige’s mouth.

“Thought you were scared of my cooking?”

“Oh I am but the things we do for love,” the blonde says dramatically before letting Azzi feed her, “huh, that’s not half bad baby.”

“High compliments,” Azzi says mock-seriously, as she tries her own spoonful, “oh I kinda ate that.”

They both dissolve into giggles at that, falling into a comfortable conversation as Azzi takes turns feeding both herself and Paige, the dull rumbling of some random movie behind them. 

“You’re always taking care of me,” Paige says softly after a while, hand caressing Azzi’s left arm as she lies against her chest, feeling her heartbeat underneath her fingertips. 

“Someone has to,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s hair, “you take care of everyone else and I take care of you.”

“Sorry I ruined our date but trust, I’mma make it up to you,” Paige mumbles sleepily, digging herself further into Azzi’s arms if that’s even possible. 

“I’m sure you will baby.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more P.”

And if in two days, Azzi’s the one that’s sick and Paige’s attempt at making chicken noodle soup goes even worse, well, let’s just say it’s a good thing they have NIL deals and can afford a chef in the future.

4. me i fall in love with you every single day (and i just wanna tell you i am)

“Where are you taking me?” Azzi giggles, hands outstretched as she tries to navigate the path in front of her, despite being blindfolded. The salty sea air brushes through her hair, as she places one foot in front of another, letting Paige’s hands on her waist guide her across the cruise ship. 

“Be patient, we’re almost there,” Paige whispers against her ear, nervous anticipation building in her stomach. She’s been planning this night from the moment they’d booked the cruise tickets, wanting everything to be as near to perfect as possible. The thing is, they’ve been on plenty of dates, some even before they’d officially started calling them dates. But most of those dates have had to be carefully constructed away from prying eyes, their hands itching to hold the others but forced to dangle by their sides so they could keep up a façade in public, that this was just friends hanging out. The cruise is the perfect spot for a private date, one where Paige wouldn’t have to keep her hands to herself, not that she’s done a good job of that the whole trip anyway. But she’s found the perfect secret spot and spent just a little bit of money, to make sure the other cruise goers wouldn’t bother them tonight. 

“Are we there yet?” Azzi whines and Paige can’t help but laugh, finally pulling them to a stop.

“So impatient,” she tuts as she finally pulls away Azzi’s satin pink blindfold. 

“Yes well I’m star-oh…” Azzi blinks, eyes adjusting to the light as they flitter over her surroundings, the words being stolen from her lips as an awed look takes over her features, “Paige.”

“You like?” Paige bites her lips nervously.

“Do I like? Baby, this is beautiful,” tears sparkle in Azzi’s eyes as she loops her arms around Paige’s neck, “it’s perfect.”

They’re standing on the bow of the cruise ship. In the distance, the island they’re docked at, is illuminated by lights, making it shimmer against the dark night sky. A table for two sits at the helm of the ship, adorned in a purple velvet table cloth. There are candles and pink and white rose petals scattered all across the floor, with a small path carved out in between so they can walk to the table. On the table, there’s a customised crystal centrepiece with their names carved into it and inside it is a bouquet made of pictures of them. It’s a little cliché really, especially for two people whose path to each other had been anything but traditional but all Paige has ever wished for is a moment of normalcy with Azzi, a moment where they’re not star players, just two girls in love, enjoying a typical date night, a moment where they’re just PaigeAndAzzi. 

“When did you even have time to plan all of this?” Azzi marvels out loud, as Paige pulls out a chair for her. 

“I have my ways,” the blonde says with a smirk, taking a seat opposite her girlfriend and reaching to entwine their hands together. 

“You didn’t have to do this P.”

Paige shrugs, “I wanted to. We deserve this.”

Azzi nods, squeezing Paige’s hand because god knows they do deserve this. It’s been a hellish year if they’re honest. The highs had been wonderful but the lows, god the lows had felt like the ground being pulled from beneath their feet as they gripped each other, holding onto the only thing in their lives that felt like a reprieve from the darkness that swirled around them. And really that’s it Paige thinks, life can throw whatever it wants at her, but as long as she has Azzi, she’ll learn to survive it. 

“You wanna dance?” Paige asks, when they’ve finally finished eating, somehow managing to find a way to hold hands throughout the whole three course meal. As if on cue, a violin quartet appears onto the deck, and Azzi laughs at the coincidence. It’s Paige’s favourite sound in the whole wide world. 

“You’re such a sap,” Azzi teases fondly as she lets Paige lead them onto the floor, “how many romcoms did you watch to come up with this whole thing?”

“Dude, are you doubting my abilities to come up with a perfect date?”

“I would never,” Azzi swears, leaning her cheek against Paige’s, “but seriously Bueckers, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The melody of “thinking out loud” on the violin with the light thrum of the sounds of the wind and the ocean, creates the perfect orchestra for them to sway to, as they press every inch of themselves into each other, trying to lose themselves in the other’s arm. That feeling of home, a resounding peace, echoes throughout Paige’s skull and she thinks if there was ever a memory she’d want to replay over and over again, it would be this one. 

“I’m gonna miss this,” Paige whispers, “being with you like this?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“No I know- I just- I like being able to be us in public like we have this last week. I like not pretending.”

“What if-,” Azzi pulls back a little, eyes locking with Paige’s, “what if we didn’t pretend?”

Paige searches for a shred of hesitance in Azzi’s face, but finds nothing but complete resoluteness and a grin breaks out on her own face, “what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that even if we don’t say anything, maybe we don’t have to try and hide everything all the time either. I’m saying,” Azzi bites her lips, shyly smiling, “if you wanna hold my hand when we’re in public sometimes, you- you can if- if you want to.”

“I really, really, really want to,” Paige breathes against the brunette’s lips, hands rubbing circles against her waist. 

“Good,” Azzi whispers back, “because I really, really, really want you to.”

[bodhiscurls]

the look of love. ( bodhi durran ) pt. 1

the day your brother liam died, a part of you died with him. you couldn't bare to look at the people you used to call family and that included letting go of bodhi durran. except now they're all back asking for your help to find a rune your late brother and mother may have known that could be the key to repairing the wards. its all business and after this you'll head back to the life of loneliness you live except that even after all this time, bodhi durran still looks at you with the look of love. (takes place after the battle of resson- may not be 100% factual or making sense soz love ya xoxo)

main pairing: bodhi durran x mairi reader (liam's older sister), xaden riorson x violet sorrengail

themes: angst, mentions of death, grieving, swearing

soft knuckles wrap against the door in gentle taps and then a groan- a shove you guess and the same tattering rocks the wooden door harder, more urgently.

the lack of sleep threatens to hang your eyelids close and you're tempted for a moment to just roll back under the covers and let the worries find you in the morning light. however, it's audibly apparent that the knocking will not stop.

a stomp of your bare feet fizzles anger into the earth and you fight the snarl edging at the corner of your mouth.

"what," you hiss and rip the door open, standing face to face with the same riders you used to call family. until, well, protecting one of them tore your own real brother from you. that day on the battlefield, something had died along with him. love from the mairi bloodline had been locked away deep into your soul, guarded by soldiers of grief and wrath that moulded your new armour of loneliness.

"good to know you're still a bundle of sunshine when you wake," a deep voice rumbles from the back.

"oh fuck you tavis," you fight off the sleep with an eye roll and steel a stony glare to his brown eyes that recoil instantly. good to know you still had that effect on him, a small devious smile threatens to play on your lips.

"what do you want?" your voice lowers an octave and the air shifts around you. gone were the days you'd smile with these riders, dine with them, train with laughter till your muscles tired sore. gone were the days you felt anything but disdain for them.

they say people grieve in different ways yet it felt that when they all had moved on and forewards, it was only you that felt the screams in the still of the night, the deep blue of his eyes that softened with every last breath he took. that he died for the people he loved - the same fate as your mother took.

you carried that grief constantly in every minute and every breath you took. how could you laugh and carry on knowing he was meant to exist in the same moment as you if it weren't for the pair of idiots standing at the front of your door. forgiveness was something they'd asked for repeatedly and yet, it didn't feel right. they didn't feel deserving of anything from you, not when they had taken everything from you.

"can we come in?" the traitor's voice is gentle, so soft it almost wasn't there. except it was- like the stark silver that contrasted against the darkness of hair tied into a pretty little braid as always.

"you can certainly try," you take a step back, fighting the empty laughter when her head pulls back in whiplash at the warded door. "don't be so fucking ridiculous," you scoff. "you both have some nerve coming here," and you shift your stony glare onto the man beside violent sorrengail.

"believe me, wingleader mairi," he softens, "yn," he tries again and by the furrow in your brows its clearly the wrong appraoch "i wouldn't be here disrupting our peace if i didn't deem in necessary."

"peace," you spit, "i wouldn't mistake a forced recognition of a power position in need of mutual respect as peace wingleader riorson and neither should any of you," you go to turn (or rather slam) the door at the cadets interrupting your night when her voice calls out again.

"wait! please," she begs, "please." she tries again and you almost remember what it was like before liam's death- who you were before it all unraveled and the you before would have dropped everything for the girl infront of you. though now, you would not make the same mistake your younger brother fatefully had.

"you're out past curfew cadet," and she is met with the dark oak on the other side in finality.

you settle and rest your back against the door, breaths shallow and slow as you pace yourself. you haven't had to confront any of them in a long time and you forgot how ugly the loneliness could make you turn.

stormy one, you feel your dragon vaelith's silky tone sooth the worries folded in your mind. one more awaits at the door.

you know who it is already. the softness carried in his deathly stance is often missed by many. however, years of being his soulmate meant you had memorised every fibre etched into his being.

you open the door gently before his knuckles could meet the wood again with the first soft tap.

"hey," he whispers, slowly lowering his hand and meeting your somber gaze. you nod tightly in return, biting your lip down as you struggle to find the right words.

"hey," you settle for. the strain is evident in your voice and its clear that in holding a simple conversation with no malice and no spite. god, why was it so hard to not be a bitch.

as if testing the struggling waters, he reaches out. not a touch to your arm or a soft embrace but a steady hand holding the door open as if he was worried you'd let it slip and close it on him forever.

"look," he starts nervously, "i don't mean to crowd your space like this, i know things are different now-" your heart stops because you know he really means to say that you are different now. you've caused this imbalance, this awkwardness, this liam sized hole you'd never be able to fill.

"but what xaden said earlier," and at the mention of the wingleader who posed the protection order of your brother, sentencing him to death you still and bodhi immediately detects the shift, moving closer to you on instinct. "we wouldn't be here if we didn't desperately need your help on this."

"and what more could you possibly need from me?" your voice threatens with a crack and bodhi's heart lurches in two. liam's death had hardened you in ways that you hadn't imagined; given you an edge to rival xaden riorson's as you climbed to the ranks of wingleader within no time. you didn't let yourself stop and breathe his life; that would only slow you down. instead his death existed as a weighted blanket that covered you in the nights you spent alone wishing it had been you taken instead, wishing if only you had been as quicker and stronger as you are now that you couldve gotten to him in time.

quickly the blame of your brothers death shifted to xaden to violet to you, and there was nothing you could do to make this easier.

"please," he whispers. he takes a lock of your blonde hair and wraps it around his fingers before tucking it behind your ear. "if there's any part of you willing to move on from the past then meet me in the garden. i'll be waiting for fifteen minutes," he murmurs softly. "there's no way we could do this without you."

he disappears into the corridor, his form in tandem with the creeping shadows and you turn to face the clock. each tick haunted you and if only you could just close your eyes and dream a little longer of home. of blue eyes and carefree laughter, of tyrrish walls and your younger sister sloane.

sloane, you breathe.

it would be a lie if you didn't admit that in the midst of wallowing in your own grief you momentarily forgot about your baby sister- who like you would be mourning alone. you didn't have liam but you swore you would die protecting her- the same mistake could not occur again.

stupid sloane, you breathe again fourteen minutes later as you step foot onto the soft willows of grass ready to speak to the boy who once held your heart and promised you eternity.

. . .

i think it's the right move, vaelith lulls your mind into serenity. she's always been a mother hen, comforting you and not letting you face the darkness alone. but if you would like me to, i would scorch the earth where each of them stand and banish them into an eternity of misery.

a soft snort escapes your lips and you wave her off, tempting, you whisper back along the bond. though, i think tonight is a night where i'll just have to be brave enough to face them before i decide to do anything rash.

you've always been brave, it's why i chose you, she chastises and your warm regard is cut short when you recognise the three figures immediately.

"she's not coming," you recognise the deep timbers of xaden riorson's voice first.

"she will," his cousin returns with a confident finality and the conversation immediately stops when they spot you in line of sight.

bodhi speaks first hesitantly as garrick offers a smile of truce. "hey," he starts up an echo of earlier nerves. it makes you soften realising youre not the only one on unfamiliar territory.

"hey," you nod at garrick in greeting too, purposefully ignoring the wingleader at the end.

"you came," bodhi takes a step closer to you.

"you called," your brows furrowing in confusion. "what is so important you need my help?" and the three of them stare at each other.

"when liam passed," bodhi swallows. "there were some journals he kept about runes. knowledge your mother would have passed."

" i see," you stare upwards into his soft chocolate eyes. you will yourself to stay as still as possible, grateful for the height he has on you that way the tears would not be able to escape your glistening eyes.

"only you would be able to decipher the meaning of it and locate the missing protection rune," he finishes. but you don't focus on the last sentence. you focus on the fact that liam having journals was not uncommon knowledge to you, you kept a few of them in secret after having to clear out his room months ago. journals from your mother? that was not what you were expecting.

"and where are these journals?" you ask with a deathly stillness.

"i have them," xaden riorson finally speaks up. "and you may see them if you wish."

"if i wish," you seethe immediately, fire bursting within your veins. "that is mairi property and i will fucking kill you if you do not return them to my bloodline." a casual shrug of defiance from xaden is all it takes before you're lunging for him, hand and dagger wrapped around his throat.

as if expecting you, xaden lets his shadows wrap around you in turn and lifts you away from him and into the air. your dagger clatters to the ground and you hear a stern "no" errupt from bodhi.

"xaden, if you don't put your fucking shadows away then i will," his voice is menacingly quiet that xaden raises a brow at his cousin.

you use the element of surprise whilst the two cousins are engaged in a silent combat and use your signet of harvesting to grow vines from the ground and wrap around the elder riorsons throat. its caught him off guard for sure and a smirk settles its way onto your lips as his shadows scramble and you fall to the ground with a satisfactory thud. he wheezes and the tan of his golden kissed skin borders a terrible blue before your vines vanish entirely.

fucking bodhi, you grumble. you turn to him, arms crossed unimpressed with his countering. "you never let me have any fucking fun," you mumble but his gaze does not waver from his cousin.

"she is not to be touched," he swears and its eerie how with no words he is able to get his point across within seconds. xaden touches at his throat and nods, taking a step closer to you.

except bodhi is quicker and stands in the middle of you two- a year ago you would have never imagined being nemeses with one of your best friends yet fate has a funny way of showing its cards.

"please," he whispers and its so desperate- so unlike him. begging was beneath xaden riorson, surely.

"violet thinks that the runs are the key to strengthening the wards and liam may have been able to locate one of them," he looks up to meet your eyes. "please, i'm begging you to help us."

"she shouldn't be expecting anything more from him- she already took his life," you shove a finger at his chest, except it doesnt meet xaden but stabs at bodhi in the middle instead. if it hurts him in any way, hes as stoic as a brick and refuses to show it.

"you keep punishing us and if that's what it takes for you to grieve then fine," he grits his teeth. "i am asking you nicely before it becomes an order."

" you're talking to a wingleader fuckass," you almost spit in his face. "there is no order."

"as duke to the tyrrish throne, i order you to do your part in protecting your people," his voice is stern as it is low, as if he could be any louder it would be all of your lives on the line.

you stumble over your words, heart skipping its usual steady rhythm and something in you stirrs. an order from the tyrrish throne, an order you cannot refuse. you're stunned into silence, a gentle fuck slipping onto your mind.

"liam died with honour, the least you could do is try to live with some," xaden bitterly commands and you meet his eyes.

"living with honour is not granting you two the mercy of death," you heave through shaky breaths. "if this is to be done, it is done on my terms," the silence of the bagsiath air swallows the four of you whole. "but i want it to be a known fact, my help is not because of any of you or that treacherous bitch," and xaden's brow arches in retaliation, ready to strike again but bodhi places a hand across his chest, willing you the silence to finish. "it is for liam and whatever i find, it is up to me on how we proceed."

"this is violet's plan," xaden emphasises, stubborness radiating from him.

"those are my terms," you don't grant him the grace of meeting his eyes but settle on the man in the middle of you two. "accept or deny whatever the fuck you want, it's not me who needs any of you."

bodhi tenses at the last sentence but somberly nods. he shares a look with his cousin and best friend before settling on you again for a lot longer than the moment needed.

"we accept your terms."

"all of them?"

"all of them," he swears and you bid him a nod farewell before you disappear back to your safe haven of loneliness where the memories of your younger brother and sister carry you whole.

note: idk how many parts this will be im thinking maybe four ?????? but lowk was inspired by that clip from monkey man where kid and sita are both bloodied and she hands him something and just for a second their hands almost touch and THE YEARNING!!! the yearning my god anyways hope u enjoy 💘

[heian-era-housewife]

Synopsis | How will Shiu react when he learns that you, his mate, are packing the heat in more ways than one while on a dangerous mission with friend and fellow assassin Toji Fushiguro?

Content | mdni 18+, omega!(f)reader x alpha!shiu, smut, fingering, masturbation, sex (p in v), knotting, biting, swearing, guns, blood, sweaty!shirtless!toji

Word Count | ~3.6k

"Got your gun, wallet, keys?" Shiu asked as you slid from his passenger seat.

"Isn't it supposed to be 'phone', wallet, keys?" You questioned.

"Not when you're an assassin," he smirked. You returned his smile, patting the firearm on your hip. Leaning in to place a goodbye kiss on your forehead, he flinched as his lips made contact with your feverish brow.

"Woah! You feeling alright, doll?" He asked.

"I think so. Why?"

"You're burning up!" He exclaimed, reaching foreward with the back of his hand. "You sure you can do this today?"

"I'll be fine," you reassured him. "Besides, me and Toji spent weeks lining up this hit. Not like I'm going to flake out over a little fever."

As your mate and handler, Shiu knew exactly how capable and deadly you really were. Even so, few people in your line of work believed an omega could make a good operative and, while he pitied those who foolishly chose to underestimate you, he also knew you had a tendency to push yourself beyond your limits.

He shot you an analyzing look before saying, "You just call me if you need anything, okay?" You gave his hand an affirming squeeze. "And hey," he added, "tell Fushiguro to take good care of you!"

"You know I won't!" You chuckled as you closed the door and watched him drive off.

"Hey, Fireball" Toji called out a few minutes later as you reached your meeting point.

"It was one time!" You scoffed at the nickname he'd given you after a particularly sideways mission where you'd fired off a shot inside a pyrotechnics storehouse.

Toji was your partner and friend. A rare exception to the alphas who questioned your skill as an assassin. Having known Shiu for over a decade, he was practically family. So it was with both confusion and a little concern that you watched his eyes darken as you approached.

"You feeling okay?" He asked, voice suddenly serious.

"Would everyone quit asking me that?" You rolled your eyes.

"It's just...nevermind." He trailed off. "Let's do this, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

Toji's target was sighted, barrel aligned perfectly with the mark's left temple. Even from a distance you knew Toji was a perfect shot and you tended to think of his victims in the past tense long before he ever even pulled the trigger.

But something was off.

His fingers were twitchy, eyes darting to meet yours every few seconds, a bead of sweat ran capriciously down his neck. He had already realigned the shot three times. You watched the muscles in Toji's jaw flex as he swallowed. Hard.

"What's wrong?" You mouthed, catching his attention from where you crouched, just out of the target's line of sight.

He gave you a look. Nothing more. A hint of panic in his calculating glare.

It was out of character and unsettling. What was he seeing that you weren't? The two of you, typically so in sync, seemingly worlds apart in the mission's most critical moment.

It made you uncomfortable. Itchy, almost. You squirmed restlessly in your post, hot distress churning your gut as your fever intensified. You quietly fanned your face, looking back only to see Toji had disappeared.

Where the hell...?

Your fanning became frenzied as you scanned for your partner. Just then, two large hands reached from the shadows behind you. With strength and speed, one clasped your wrist, halting your movements, while the other pressed firmly over your mouth.

"Mmh!"

"Shhhhh" Toji's breath prickled your neck as he pulled you in closer to his chest.

Straining to peer over your shoulder against his vice-like grip, you nearly gasped when you met his eyes. Inky black with pupils blown in a feral expression. Beads of shimmering sweat forming a glistening crown over his forehead. Nostrils flaring with ragged breaths he was fighting to keep quiet, chest heaving.

You felt nauseous and lightheaded, overwhelmed by the feeling you'd seen this look somewhere before. Fucked out. Rabid. Hungry.

His panting breaths tickled the mark on the base of your neck.

That's when it hit you. You had seen this before. About a year ago to be exact, when Shiu became your mate. Dawning realization crashed down in suffocating waves. You weren't sick. You were in heat. Too inexperienced to recognize the signs, as it was only your second. In an instant, everything made sense, the subtle clues of the morning drawing together- pheromones now pulsing off of you, hot and steady.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to be in the care and safety of your mate. Instead, you found yourself caught in the midst of a dangerous mission, bound in the arms of Japan's most deadly predator. And he wasn't letting go. Your heart began to race as you writhed in his grip.

"Mngh!!!"

"Don't move!" Toji urged. Then, pointing, he whispered,"He can smell you." Your target's head was now tipped back, nose to the air, inhaling deeply.

In your panic, you'd nearly forgotten about the man before you.

Toji wasn't the threat here. It was him. The one you'd come here to kill. An experienced alpha, Toji figured it all out before you had- your fever, your scent. Now he was protecting you in spite of whatever carnal urges were clawing at the inner workings of his alpha instincts.

Slowly, he released you as you allowed yourself to relax slightly in his grip.

"Stay still," he said using your shoulder to support his shaking hands while he rearranged the grip on his gun. He knelt behind you steadying his breath, concentrating.

Having caught your scent, the man you had been sent to kill pivoted slowly in place, homing in on your location. Aware that he was not alone, he reached slowly for his own sidepiece, pulling it quietly from its holster.

Despite his prowess, Toji was a mess. Hands trembling, heart pounding, the situation growing ever more dire. Keeping your eyes on the target, you reached up, taking Toji's hands in your own. Working together, you steadied his hold, wrapping your trigger finger over his.

"Ready?" You breathed.

Just then the target spotted you both, aiming his weapon with hasty imprecision and firing indiscriminately in your direction.

You didn't wait for Toji's answer. Squeezing your finger over his you made the shot and watched as the man folded to the cold concrete where he stood- a single red mark centered perfectly on his forehead.

You were only allowed a moment of calm, however, before another volley of shots came ripping through the warehouse in your direction, sending you and Toji scattering from your ill-concealed hideout.

The man's cronies came spilling in through the warehouse, no-doubt having heard the commotion within. Bits of fractured concrete rained down in a barrage of powdery shrapnel while metal storage containers sent bullets ricocheting in a deadly hailstorm all around you. Dodging the bombardment, you and Toji returned fire with varied success. Fear and adrenaline had taken your heat to critical mass, your scent acting as an unwanted beacon for your whereabouts. Your thoughts swam with visions of Shiu, concentration wavering as your very flesh ached in desperation for your mate.

"Need you to do something for me, Fireball." Toji panted as the two of you ran for cover. Rounding a corner, he pulled you in against the side of a shipping container, suddenly ripping off his sweat-drenched shirt. Heaving chest glistening, he stared at you expectantly and for a fleeting moment you thought he'd lost his mind. Then, clarifying his intentions, he held out the wadded up shirt. "Put this on, hurry!"

The effect was immediate. While it couldn't obscure your scent entirely, nor for very long, the footsteps that gave chase from your unseen assailants fell further and further behind while the bullets went from “near-miss” to “not even close”. Seizing your opportunity, the two of you ducked out the nearest exit, not once looking back until you'd reached Toji's car parked several blocks away.

Once in the car Toji sat, hands tight on the steering wheel, until his breathing became somewhat steady. You were sitting shotgun, face pressed to the cool window, desperate for a bit of relief.

“Call Shiu,” Toji said, handing you his phone. “Tell him we're coming to meet him. Spare the details if you can.”

You let out a cynical chuckle. Shiu was an ex-detective and a damn good one at that. Connecting the dots was his very nature, details or otherwise. With trembling hands, you dialed his number.

“Fushiguro, what's-?”

“Shiu, it's me.”

“Are you oka-”

“I'm in heat,” you blurted out. Toji slapped a palm to his forehead.

“Where are you? Are you with…” His voice trailed off, realization turning his stomach. “Let me talk to him.” His voice formidable and cold as ice. You handed the phone to Toji, collapsing into the seat while you listened to one side of the conversation.

“Look, we can't stay here,” Toji barked, “we'll get found out. We'll have to meet you halfway.” There was silence as he listened to Shiu's reply. Then, voice somber and serious he said, “You know I would never. You have my word…You can trust me.”

You were half-gone by the time the car's engine roared to life. Sick with need and drenched in sweat, you mewled your discomfort with each passing mile. It was humiliating. You, an assassin, clinging shamelessly to Toji's shirt for comfort, thighs pressed firmly together as throbbing pressure gave way to sweet-smelling pools of slick. An ache like you'd never felt radiated from your core. You needed one thing and one thing only- to be bred.

Toji, meanwhile, was having his own set of troubles. For fear of attracting unwanted attention, he kept the windows up forcing himself to take the brunt of your aroma, his white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel doing little to ground himself. Half-dressed and half-baked in your intoxicating scent, it became increasingly difficult to keep his mind and his eyes on the road. Before long, a strangled sound escaped his lips. Then another, and another, giving way to a string of faint whimpers Toji prayed you wouldn't hear.

Several miles in, you'd fallen into a sleep-like state, overcome by sickly exhaustion. On one occasion you stirred, breaking the silence with a mumbled plea.

“I need him,” you begged.

“I know, Fireball.” Toji croaked.

He'd done so well to contain himself. Denied and rejected every primal urge that gnawed at his raging libido. But whatever obstinance was left- whatever dredges of chivalry and self-respect he could muster- all dissolved at the sound of your desperate voice. In that one instant, a hot rush flooded his aching shaft sending it skyward in a shameful display of powerful lust. Shifting in his seat, he tried to hide it but it was no use. He was touch starved and ravenous. Desperate for friction where his throbbing tip pressed angry tears to the front of his pants that bloomed in darkened stains as they soaked through. Sparing you a sideways glance, he hoped you wouldn’t see as he began to palm the front of his pants. With one hand on the steering wheel, the other pumped his cock through the fabric of his sweats. Visions unfolded like a wet dream before him. Your sweet-smelling cunt swallowing his alpha cock. His knot stretching you past your limits. His teeth baring down on your mark, changing its shape, making you his.

“Toji,” you whispered, eyes still closed, unaware of his thoughts and actions. His whole body tensed at the sound of his name, snapping him back to reality. Jaw clenching in forced restraint, he replied with a hoarse, “Yeah?”.

“You're a good friend.” You finished kindly, your words coming down on him like a bucket of ice water. He'd nearly lost himself. Nearly betrayed that friendship.

“The fuckin’ best.” He said, kicking himself for his lapse in restraint. Reduced to a sweating, trembling, whimpering mess, Toji forged ahead determined to see his mission through and deliver you to the waiting arms of your mate.

Shiu paced next to his parked car, worry written over his face in deep lines. Just the sight of him sent a rush of slick spilling onto the seat beneath you. You surged with yearning as Toji gripped the steering wheel with a final anguished groan, aligning his driver's side door with an eagerly awaiting Shiu.

The two men exchanged a look through the tinted glass. Stark serious. Tense. Toji's blown pupils and desperate expression framed by sweat-flattened hair that dripped to his bare chest below. An accusatory fire boiled in Shiu's beating chest and glinted behind his hardened stare. For a minute, he thought he might punch his friend. Might just kill him then and there for whatever atrocities he may have committed. But as Toji opened the door, Shiu was nearly overcome with pheromones that burst from the vehicle and flooded his senses. While Toji practically gasped for fresh air, steadying himself against the side of the car, Shiu devoured the scent like a starving man. It was heady and intoxicating. Provocative. Irresistible. That's when he saw you. Weak and feverish, curled up in the passenger seat looking smaller than ever. Wrapped in Toji's shirt doing little now to cover your scent, still very much in need. Mark untouched.

Stepping up to Toji, he squared off with his fellow alpha. Then, raising his hand, he brought it down with a firm "clap" on Toji's shoulder. A gesture of friendship. Of gratitude.

"You did good." Shiu said. There was sincerity in his words. Toji offered a weak nod, then sank to the ground where he stayed for some time.

Mission accomplished, he thought to himself.

Shiu lifted you from the passenger seat and set you in his own car, removing Toji's shirt and wrapping you in his blazer. By the time the engine roared to life, you were already half gone. Face back on the cool window, mind drifting in and out focus. Little moans mixed with Shiu's name still fell from your lips, while your hand drifted idly- numbly- over your slick-stained lap.

"Fuck, I can't do this." Shiu said, not a mile down the road. "I gotta-" using his knees to balance the steering wheel, he quickly loosened his belt and fly. "I gotta have you." Freeing his cock, he stroked himself while he searched for a place to pull off.

He had every intention of getting you home. Of bedding you down in the comfort of your own nest. But unlike Toji, he was unrestrained and unfettered by the need to keep his hands off of you. His own need now as vital as the air inside his lungs.

As he pulled off the road you nearly sobbed with relief, a strangled cry breaking free from your chest as you finally let down.

Leaning over, Shiu brushed a bead of sweat from your dampened face before closing the gap with an empassioned kiss. He parted your lips with his tongue, moaning into your mouth with full abandon. You returned the gesture, running shaking hands through his flyaway hair, whimpering shamelessly while you explored his teeth, his tongue.

In an instant he was on top of you, scooting up and over the center console to straddle your lap- covering you, kissing you. It was tight and cramped and you didn't care. All that mattered was the feeling of Shiu. His smell, his touch, his taste.

He took your face in both his hands as he continued kissing you. Before long, the kisses traveled to your ear where they became something more promiscuous.

“God I missed you.”

He whispered his need for you, nipping at the shell of your ear before moving down to your neck. Hands and teeth and sultry moans filled the space. He licked a stripe along your neck and traced the stubble of his mustache along your jawline, breathing goosebumps over soft skin as he went.

"Fuck, I gotta have you" he said, reaching down to pull the seat's lever, lowering his weight down onto you as the seat reclined. In a matter of moments he'd managed to undress you both from the waist down, lips curling in a wayward smile the second he saw your glossy cunt.

With two long fingers, he reached down to part your folds, then slid them gently inside, pumping his wrist to the rhythm of his hips while he traced a line of salty precum from his tip over your tummy. He rocked you slowly with his weight, making you mewl with each upward thrust.

“That’s my girl,” he hummed softly. “God, I was so worried.”

“Shiu…”

Your pussy throbbed at his gentle words, slick coating his fingers as you pined for something more. You needed him like a vice. Craved him like a drug.

“Shiu, please.” You breathed.

Holding up his slick-sheened hand, he licked himself clean before placing his hands on your shoulders and lowering his forehead to rest gently over yours. His face was so close he was almost blurry, but you could still see the crinkle in his eyes from his devilish smile when he plunged himself deep into your aching core. You couldn't help the gasp that escaped you as he entered.

“Fuckkk,” you groaned, rolling your hips to match his pace. “Ha-harderrr.”

“This is what you needed isn’t it, dollface? I’m sorry I wasn't there for you. I should’ve known better.” He thrusted deeper. “You were so strong. So- hahh- fucking badass.” You tightened at his praise, moaning in turn. “Oh, you like that?” He asked, picking up speed. “Of course I'd expect nothing less from my favorite gunslinger.”

“You're driving me crazy!” You cried out in desperation.

“Oh this ain't enough?” He growled, grabbing your hips to drive himself deeper. Even at this angle, you still wanted more, needed more.

“Crazy? You're the craziest fucking -nngh- dish I know,” he panted. “And I ain't got nothin’ to do with it. Out there gunning down creeps while you're in -fuck- heat. Jesus, doll, you keep clenching on me like this you'll be milking me dry before I can breed you prop-hah-properly.”

“Do it then, Shiu!” You begged, turning under his weight. “Breed me properly!”

As he pulled out, you flipped over in the seat, hungry pussy swallowing his length, rounded ass pressing into his hips.

“That's it, doll! Fuck it back into me!” He growled. “Want you to take this cock like the rebel you are.” Speed and force rocked the car and still it wasn't enough. You arched your back, tits pressed hard against the seat. In a rabid moment of lust you bit down on the leather head rest, not caring what future clients might think of the suspicious imprint.

“Save some of that for me,” he teased, hand grazing the mark on your neck.

“I need- hahh-” you gasped as he forced his way deeper. “Shiu, I n-need your knot!”

"I know, doll, I know. Workin’ on it," thrusts becoming sloppy and more desperate.

You felt like you might explode. Your heat had reached a crescendo. The only thing that could break this fever was the stretch of his knot and the warmth of his seed spilling into you. It was agony.

“Shiu, please, fuck I-”

Sharp canines pierced the base of your neck, breaking the skin at the same time his hard knot appeared at your entrance. His thighs shook from the resistance while he thrust his hips forward, teeth sinking hungrily into your neck. Then, with a satisfying stretch, your desperate pussy swallowed his huge knot sending spasms through your core. Muffled cries of “Oh, fuck fuck fuck,” came from the place where he was still biting onto you. Walls fluttering, you milked his cock, hot ropes warming your insides as he emptied his heavy balls straight into you. Waves of relief poured over you as you fucked your orgasm back into him, clear liquid trailing down his thighs and yours.

Shiu lit a cigarette, blowing lazy clouds of smoke as he waited for his knot to let down, his bodyweight bringing comfort to your weary frame.

“Hahhhhhhh….” You breathed for what felt like the first time in hours. Blood trickled down your shoulder from where he finished marking you. You'd return the favor later.

“Thank you…” You whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open.

“You were amazing today. A real bad actor.”

“I wouldn’t have made it without you and-” you froze. Struck by the embarrassment of the day's events. “-Toji”.

Toji watched as you and Shiu drove off, still sitting on the ground, back resting against his car.

A silent tug of war played out in his head. Morals as grey as the pavement below.

“Fuck it,” he said, reaching for the shirt he had let you wear, now discarded on the ground near his feet. Breathing your scent, he stood, leaning against the driver's side door, tugging his pants just below his hips and freeing his twitching cock.

“Fuckkkk” He groaned as he fisted himself to the thought of you so desperate and needy in the front seat of his car. He stroked himself to the sight of the stains on his seat. Jerked his hips to the memory of your moans still ringing in his ears. Fucked himself out to every inch of you he couldn't have today. And finally, reaching his climax, he tightened his grip as he knotted in his own hand, white hot loads spilling thickly down the side of his door. Rutting his hips slowly, he maintained the grip over his firm knot, a final spurt of sticky cum painting his car in white.

“Sorry, Fireball.” He said, looking down at the mess he'd made. “I may be a good friend, but I ain't no saint.”

[samonroegf]

flashing sam blurb | suggestive | f!reader

inspired by billy loomis & sidney prescott.

requested by @crymyblood ᝰ masterlist

sam’s knuckles rap at the glass of your window, you're quick to check the hallway around your room. your father is asleep on the chair, so you open the window and take in all that is sam monroe.

the moonlight cascaded over his face in blues and whites, it complimented him well. he wore a dangerous smirk, and a dark t-shirt covered by a denim vest. his rings and piercings glowed in the night light.

you smiled at him, seeing him was always the best part of your day. there was a certain je nai se pas to him, something you couldn't expalin. but it drew you in to him, like a moth to a flame.

“baby, i need you.” his voice was suave, a sultry tone underneath his words. he was somewhere between demanding and begging. it made you want to giggle a little. you and sam had not yet explored this aspect of your relationship, to sam's dismay.

he's a very horny man, and having you as his girlfriend is almost torture. he would do anything in his power to make sure, you're completely comfortable. the most important thing to sam, is that you feel safe with him. one thing he could never really afford, but he'd make sure you always could.

you pouted at him, “sammy, I'm not ready.” he sighs but tries to make it sound like a normal breath. the man had needs.

“gimme something to work with babygirl, please,” he was whining now, and you had to stifle another giggle.

you gave him a soft smile, and pulled up your shirt to reveal your soft breasts to him, “does this work?"

you are giggling at this point, from the way his eyes looked over your body, to the way he was itching to touch you. you inch foreward to where he's leaning in your window.

“you can touch them, if you want, but nothing more, okay?” nerves ate at you, but the excitement, rhe adrenaline from showing yourself to him made it all worth it.

“yeah, yeah, that's perfect.” he's in awe of all of you, he's seen tits before but yours. yours are perfect, soft and supple. his hands roughly grabbed them, kneading the fat in his calloused hands.

“god, baby, I don't think you know what you're doing to me.”

[mourningsbane]

A hypothetical of what might happen if Ryestalker met Honeyspring.

The torti molly wandered far from her clans territory. The medicine cats were looking for an herb..something bane? They described it pretty accurately to her and stressed the importance of caution.

She sees what looks like one of the flowers nearby a burrow, and she approaches curiously and cautiously. Leaving a set of three pawprints in the dust. She examines the flower when she notices movement in the burrow. Her scraggly tail bristles as she looks up.

The figure was pale, hunched over, and it seemed like their face was melting almost. She could smell the infection. The death. And..milk. This cat was a queen. What in the stars has happened to this cat? Were they alive? Surely not?

"Do you need help?" She asks immediately, taking a tentative step foreward.

Honeyspring peeks out, And upon hearing the molly sPeak, slowly tilts her head until the frail bones in her neck Pop.

How rare it is to have companY, and so honeyspring beckons ryestalker closer.

[littlevenicebiatch]

The hat rule

another country!Simonxreader

There was a new coyboy in town, he was taall and strong and he lived right next to you. His farm was smaler than yours, less horses, less cattle and less of a house, but it was enough for him. You decidded to visit him, so you put on your nicest summer dress, baked a cherry pie and knocked on his door. The tall man opened the door, his hat, which he tilted in your direction beeing the first thing he noticed.

"Well hello there, little lady." His accent wasnt southern, it sounded british, that was a rare one here. "uhm, hey, I just wanted to introduce myself, I am your neighbour, you are new here, right?" "Yes, am Simon." "Right, of course how impolite, I'm Y/N." "Pleasure to meet ya." He didnt make any efforts to move aside or let you in, but you were a stubborn gal. So you simple handed him the cherry pie and brushed past him insed his house. Simon was baffled by this young woman who had simply entered his home- no his life. Because it didnt end with that one visit in which she poked holes inside him with her questions about his previous life-a soldier and how he had gotten to be a cowboy- it was his grandfathers profession. No, it didnt end with that long conversation which dragged on until the middle of the night. Soon she visited him weekly, always bringing him some baked goods or a home cooked meal. You would sit on his porch swing, which he only installed for your visits (of course he would never tell you that) and just talk and talk for hours. He secretly started looking foreward to your conversations, he even marked the days in his calender, calculating when týou would come next. It was easy, in a way you were just what he needed, someone to talk to him and to really listen. And so he decided to invite you to his rodeo. His first one. And you sat there, cheering him on, it wasnt hard for him when he knew that you were there for him. After Simon won, you stormed to him, hugging him. "You totally won, Si!" He smiled and akwardly wrapped his arms around you "Yes, I did." And then you did something- you took his head and placed it on your head. "Does it fit me?" You posed for him, but Simon only stood there, shocked. Then a man started whisteling at you. "Ey, Simons got a girl." You turned around, but he grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to face him. "Dont you know the rule?" "What rule?" "You grew up here, you should know." But you only stared at him. "Well, it says, wear the hat, ride the cowboy." "oh." "Yeah." You shrugged and gave him your cheekiest smile. "I suppouse I gotta ride you then." "You dont mean that." "i do" "Dont play with me darlin, because if you are serious, I will fuck that sassy right outta you." "Oh please do." He was searching for a hint of underiousness, of reluctancy, but there wasnt any of that, so he grabbed your hand and dragged you after him until you were in his bedroom.

to be continued...

[bitch-potatoes]

Prompt: Change 19/10/24 @rosekillermicrofic

Word count: 811

(Was feeling super motivated to write today, but it's not proofread)

Barty would never understand why Evan and Regulus liked the library so much. It was too quiet most of the time, and the room temperature was always too warm for a jumper but too cold not to have one. Still, Barty sat in his seat and doodled mindlessly onto parchment because he'd rather be bored out of his mind in the company of his boyfriend and best friend than bored out of his mind by himself At least there was something to do here, and being alone was always a recipe for trouble when it came to Barty.

"Nice drawing, Bug," Evan muttered softly, looking up from his notes briefly and smiling at the sketch Barty had been half-heartedly working on. There were some basic anatomy sketches, based on the pictures in the book Regulus was working on - some bullshit about healer school prep. But it was fun to draw, and the pictures were pretty cool, especially the ones from autopsy results. Barty smiled, writing an I and a U on either side of an anatomical heart and sliding the parchment towards Evan who took it, folded it, and tucked it safely into his breast pocket on his shirt. "I heart you too," he mumbled before returning to his notes.

"Heyyyyy Junior," an annoying voice drawled out, some blonde girl strutting over the table the three were working at. She batted her eyelashes and smirked, clearly wanting something. Barty recognised her as some hookup from a while ago, Chloe, maybe? Some C name.

"Yeah?" Barty squinted at her suspiciously. She leant over the table the buttons on her blouse undone at the top, showing off far too much cleavage for a casual interaction. She pouted before running a tongue over her teeth and speaking in a disgustingly sweet voice.

"A little birdy told me that you're not seeing any girls at the moment... so I safely assume you're on the pull..." she drawled her words in a particularly annoying way, Barty was coping by imagining using her as a specimen for an autopsy. At least this conversation had given him some insight on a possible future career option.

"Me, you. Hogsmeade tomorrow, get me a drink, and we can come back to my dorm afterwards." She was straight to the point; credit where credit was due. Evan wrinkled his nose but stayed occupied on his notes. A shame, really. Barty would've liked to see him shut her down.

"Sorry, dollface got plans. Can't change em" Barty shrugged her off, encouraging her to quiet while she was ahead. Unfortunately it was rather unbelievable that Barty wasn't actively hunting down someone to sleep with, he wasn't exactly known for his celibacy in the same way he wasn't known for his ability to maintain a longterm relationship. He had since realised that he just didn't get that spark for women. There was never any romance... no desire to make it last the same way there was with Evan.

She reached foreward, walking her fingers up Barty's chest and pushing his chin up to look at her face. It was a rather disgusting plea for attention, attention Barty wasn't going to give her.

"Yeh bitch, we have fucking plans" Evan grumbled quietly, clearly not too please with the attention she was giving Barty but he wasn't often the type to cause a scene unlike Barty who didn't mind putting people in their place. She glanced at Evan and raised an eyebrow. "Who invited you to my conversation? You swot." She scrunched her nose up. She looked a lot like an ugly hare. Somehow, the way she spoke to Evan made her look even uglier.

"Don't talk to him like that," Barty snarled, swatting her hand from his face. He had no shame in punching her if the need arose. Luckily for her, she seemed to get the idea that Barty didn't want her unsolicited touching.

She frowned, suddenly looking much less friendly. Kissing her teeth, she stood up and buttoned her blouse back up properly. "Fucking enjoy your date with your bros" she muttered, gesturing to Evan and Regulus and glancing between them like they were offensive. She leaned close again to whisper "I don't get why you're cockblocking yourself Crouch" spitting the words out bitterly, she gestured widely to herself "what's not to want?"

"The clap," Regulus says before chuckling to himself and going back to his book, clearly proud of the comeback. The girl looked even more offended now, much to Barty's amusement.

"I'll enjoy my date with my boyfriend... and then after that, I'll very much enjoy-" Barty was cut off by Evans hand clasped over his mouth, giving Barty that stern look that easily made him shut up and not even consider talking. He smiled with his eyes and waggled his fingers as the girl stormed off, looking half disgusted and half disappointed.

[smallestapplin]

Will you cherish what I hold dear?

Leon Belmont x vampire reader!

Sex is implied but never described, bite marks and blood drinking mentioned, children are briefly mentioned, angst.

-

-

It’s a nice summer night, the window to your shared bedroom is open allowing the nice breeze to roll in. The moonlight shining in on you and your beloved, gazing down on you two after a night of passion. Leon is curled around you, his arms securely around your body holding you to his chest.

The smell of your shampoo and natural scent bringing a level of comfort to him, yet he can’t seem to fall asleep, his mind racing with different thoughts. Your children are away in their own rooms, sleeping just as you two were suppose to be, and yet here he is wide awake.

The marks along his neck and chest silently throb in mild pain, you had drank from him just as you always have since he started courting you, but it’s also a silent reminder of what he’s not.

He’s aging, day by day he’s growing older, he’s not once the young twenty something year old bursting through your castle doors, to him that day seems so far away.

His blonde hair slowly filling with greys.

“Love, are you awake?” His voice barely a whisper.

“Mhm, what is it?” Your groggy voice does little to soothe him, despite how much he adores hearing you speak.

“If I may, can I ask you something personal?”

He smiles faintly at the feeling and sound of your chuckle vibrating against the skin of his bare chest.

“Why, Mr.Belmont, you wed me, settle down with me, and think a question could be personal at this point? By all means, go ahead.”

You nuzzle back into his chest, getting comfortable as you listen to his heart beat. He’s silent for a moment, as if listening to the curtains rustle in the wind.

“Have you…ever thought about turning me?” Hesitant in his words, as if afraid of the answer.

You furrow your eyebrows, confused by the sudden questioning after so many years together.

“What kind of question is that, of course I have.”

He blinked, surprised at how quickly you answered that.

“Really?”

“Leon, there isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about making you a vampire just so you could stay by my side forever, but…”

You shuffle, moving away ever so slightly from him to look up at him.

“Did you hear how selfish that sounds? How I sound like I can’t handle you being human and stripping you of a key part of yourself?”

You bring a hand up to cup his face, smiling as he leans into your touch. Your thumb gently rubbing against the slowly prominent wrinkles.

“I love you, I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to give you my heart. One day you won’t be with me, it’s going to break me, but I know I’ll never truly be rid of you, our children just down the hall give promise to descendants of us, of you. I’ll be surrounded by the love of you, everything you held dear will be seen in them.”

You smile at him, softly cooing at him as you wipe away his tears that he hadn’t realized were falling.

“I will stand by your side, by their side, and fight to protect all that you love.”

He’s read stories of immortals growing distant and angry to out live all they loved, his own former friend likely becoming just that when he took the crimson stone and left.

He feared, deep down, that maybe his death in the future would hurt you, make you grow bitter and angry with the world.

He didn’t know how much he needed to hear that.

Leon leans foreward, his lips pressing gingerly onto your own in an impassioned kiss. Pulling away he rests his forehead against your own.

“Promise me you will protect and love the world which I hold dear.”

“I promise you, I will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

“Thank you..” finally his body grows tired, eyes heavy as sleep is catching up with him.

You cuddle back into him, smiling as your husband begins to go limp and his breathing evening out.

You can’t imagine a world without him, though you know you will have to get use to the idea in the next several years, as much as it breaks your undead heart to know your husband will no longer be with you.

[westanleovaldito]

ooo ok what about leo valdez x apollo! Reader where she’s really artsy and she makes this rlly pretty suncatcher and repair boy is like😍

Im answering my favourite of the inbox because im having a DAY yall. Anyway!! Please enjoy :>

"Any specific reason you're rootin' through my drawers?" Leo asks, leaning as far back as his chair will let him. His brown eyes shone amber in the light of the cabin.

"Nuh uh" the odd, hunched over creature replied, still crouched down with it's head in the desk.

Leo hummed, nodding as if that clearded everything up. "Any... specific thing you're looking for?"

The thing hummed before poking it's head up to reveal Leo's favourite Apollo kid. "Either some wire, or something shiny?"

Leo nodded again. "That's pretty on brand for you," he said, holding back a chuckle before shifting foreward once more. You couldn't see him, since he was behind the wall, but you heard the familiar rustle.

"Tadaaa!!" He beamed, excitedly rolling his chair back, holding a roll of copper wire up like some priceless tiara. He moved foreward, rolling the chair closer on his feet to hand it to your crouched form. "Anything else mi amor?" He hummed, cupping your jaw to kiss your forehead as he held the spool out to you.

You leaned into his warm, gentle touch. Pressing a kiss to his palm as you think. "Ive got some glass i need to cut and buff. Could i borrow your dremel tool?"

Leo paused, blinking at you a few times.

"What the fuck are you making?!"

"I DON'T QUESTION YOU!"

Leo sighed, running a greasy hand through his already greasy hair. it had been only a day and a half since you left the bunker. Leo had been alone for longer, but after he had grown accustomed to your happy presence bursting through the door, he quite missed you.

You weren't really known for vanishing like he was, but he knew you were working on something. He assumed it was for him, based off how little you told him, but this just... wasn't you. The worry was beginning to eat him alive when-

"LEOLEOLEO!" you called, pushing through the door with your shoulder.

He jumped, but quickly processed your cheery voice. "WHAT WHAT WHAT?!"

It was about 10pm, and you seemed to be fairly hyper. It was cute though, the way you bounced on your heels, beaming at him as you held a vertical box behind your back.

You took a breath, still beaming as you set the box on his desk, "Ok- so i started to feel really really bad that you always make me stuff, but I never make you stuff so-" you gently waved his hand away, now holding the box again to keep him off it. "-so I got thinking and I remembered the iddy biddy lil window in that room in the back and-" "ok baby," Leo stood, chuckling as he put his hands on your shoulder (getting black oil on your favourite hoodie) "Normally, I'd never interrupt your rants, but I think if you don't take a breath, you'll pass out"

He watched you take a deep breath, giggling as you made excessive eye contact, to emphasize how stupid you decided breathing was. Eventually, you gave up on the rant, and handed him the box with a smile.

He opened the box, cocking a faux-skeptical brow, before the gift was revealed.

It was a few scrap beads, red and orange and yellow, dangling below a stick Leo thought was cool. You found it on a walk, and he deemed it cool enough to stay in your cabin. There were a few bits of broken glass you managed to safely sand down and polish, even adding more and more sides to the reflective bits and bobs, he noticed some screws and bolts that had been through some evident scrubbing. He had never gotten a gift like this... with as much care and effort as he always put in.

The sun catcher was amateur, and it certainly wasn't professional, but it was from you. It had his favourite colours, a cool looking stick, and overall, love.

He looked up again, not realizing just how many tears he had in his eyes, "Th- thAnK yoU..." he sniffled, mentally kicking himself for the voice crack.

"Of course mi amor" you mutter softly, nodding as you move closer. You didn't really understand just how hard the nickname hit him. Way to kick him when he was down.

He moved forward to hug you, the hanging wire still dangling from the hand that now clutched at your shirt, shoving his face into the crook of your neck.

ok sorry yall, I know it took long!!! im working on the other things in my in box I SWEARR

[graylinesspam]

For Jesse, finding his footing within the 501st had been more of a challenge than it was for most soldiers. Maybe Kix was right, it was because he was thick headed and stubborn. Or maybe Cadaver was right about him having piss poor decision making skills.

It took him a little over a year to make the decision to stop standing in his own way and start acting like a respectable damn soldier. Motivated heavily by the prospect of not ending up under another vod's boot, he had no intention of digging the baren hole that his social status laid in any deeper.

That required moving up in rank. And that required making allies. Jesse was no stranger to hard work and mental exercise. But learning how to socialize, especially with vod that already held a poor opinion of him had been difficult.

But he had done it. Had won over Appo and Hardcase and even the ARCs. Had been recommended for further training on Kamino. Had earned his rank as an ARC and was currently on the fast track to moving into a higher leadership position.

He had grown, a lot. He hadn't become a different person overnight. The shinys still whispered about how surly he was. The bridge crew still gave him a healthy berth. But there wasn't anymore animosity.

That's why, staring down at Ahsoka's little shiny, curled up on the training mat in a puddle of his own sweat, trembling in his thighs. He felt an annoying spark of sympathy. He didn't understand the kid. Not really.

Jesse had always been self motivated. He could at least rely on that positive trait. Quick had none of that. He was soft. Undisciplined. Stagnant.

He was standing in his own way though. Jesse could see that. Hell, anyone looking could see that. Ahsoka was practically carting him around on a lift and he didn't have the good sense to realize what an exceptional opportunity that was.

The shiny was too stubborn for his own good.

And Jesse knew a thing or two about that.

With a deep, weary, sigh. Jesse planted his helmet back onto his head and toed took a step foreward.

"Can you walk?"

Quick hesitated, glances suspiciously up at Jesse from his reddened sweat burned eyes.

"You taking off with 'soka's shiny?" Fives asked.

"Yep," Jesse responded through the monotone of his helmet.

"I'll comm her." Vere said, backing away from where he'd been waiting for the shiny to catch his breath so he could continue with his "training".

"Get up." Jesse ordered with far less patience this time. And Quick did. Rising unsteadily on his shaking legs.

Fives had wandered closer, observing the vod gasping for breath. "What are you gonna do with him?"

Jesse shrugs. "Hose him down. hang him up."

Fives brows furrow, "He's here for training. Rex's hoping the extra training might finally teach him some discipline."

Jesse scoffs, "All he's learned is compliance. Discipline comes from within. He's empty on the inside."

"So what are you gonna do about it?" Five's brow was raised now.

Jesse shakes his head casting his visor over the now fully standing shiny, slick with sweat, squinting against the burn. "Nothing. Can't build from a lack. Maybe this lesson isn't for him. Maybe Ahsoka needs to learn that not every clone is made from the same stock."

"So what? We just cast him into ship crew?"

"If he lasts that long."

It was dramatic. He knew that. Fives knew that. The whole conversation had been theatrical. But it was important. Quick needed to understand how truly alone he was in his sour ass attitude. Ahsoka was going out of her way to coddle him. The rest of them couldn't afford to. He couldn't be convinced she was a common enemy.

Choosing a natborn over a vod would be seen as betrayal in any other context but Torrent had to do something about Quick before he actually did get himself blown to shit.

He was a resilient little shit if nothing else. Between the extra training that Ahsoka and Rex were both putting him through. And the way that Ahsoka toted him around on her own schedule. He'd grown some stamina for sure. Managed to put some muscle on those legs. Managed to outpace anyone from his own batch, and half of the officers as well.

Though since he was being trained by heavys and scouts he might not realize it yet. Might not realize how strong he's become. Jesse wasn't exaggerating when he said the kid understood compliance. He had that in spades. Could run until he collapsed with not a single huff or complaint.

But even as his body developed his mind remained closed tight. Resentful and listless. He did as he was told and no more. It reminded Jesse of Specialist training. Of hours spent on his belly, peering down the scope of a rifle, rain pelting him until he felt nothing.

But he'd been trained specifically to do more with his mind than just close it. He'd been trained to think, remember, recall, to expand his mind until he could exist within it and only within it without feeling contained.

There was nothing in Quick's mind. His bucket rattled with nothing but the orders rolling around in it.

And none of them could fix that. None of them could train Quick to actually care about anything. Only he could make that decition.

As promised Jesse led Quick to the showers and promptly left him there.

--

Kix sat across from him reclined back with a skeptical look on his face. "You can't be serious. Jesse you aren't exactly built to be an Ori'vod."

Jesse shook his head, "I'm not taking him on. I just-. There's something in him that I understand."

Kix's brow was raised high enough to almost touch his hiarline. "And you think you can help him?"

Jesse shrugged. "I don't know."

Kix sighed. "And what do you want me to tell you?"

"When I decided to...change." Jesse struggled with the words.

"When Ahsoka almost died, and then Rex almost died. And then you decided to step up and become an ARC. I doubt that'll help you with him. He hates both of them."

Jesse scoffed. "Ahsoka didn't have anything to do with it."

"Sure."

"She didn't"

"You went from avoiding her like a disease to being on of her go to ARCs. You think that's a coincidence?"

"I didn't decide to become an ARC for Ahsoka."

"But you didn't do it independently of her either."

"Yes-"

Kix cut him off. "The 501st is the only division that regularly keeps ARCs in it's ranks for ground assaults and long term engagements. Every other factions ARCs come and go independently. You could have to. Could have decided to leave the 501st."

"I stayed for Rex."

"Rex doesn't lead the ARCs on solo missions. Rex doesn't train Torrent's ARCs. Ahsoka does. You know your one of her men. AND now your down here trying to figure out how to help her fix that shiny."

Jesse nudged Kix's arm. "An alliance with the Alverd'ika is a side effect of getting in good with the ARCs."

"Right, and I'm sure you weren't at all motivated by Rex's plan to make sure she had a constant ARC guard after her several near death experiences."

"Well, he might have asked me if I wanted the position."

"And you don't think he was motivated to choose troops that he knew had a loyalty to Ahsoka?"

"She's my Commander. Of course I'm loyal to her."

Kix smirked. "Quick's not."

"Quick is a fool."

Kix only looked more self satisfied. "All I'm saying is that you tried to fight it. But she got to you."

"This has not been a productive conversation."

[theweepingangelofcas]

Hello! I would love some Moriarty the Patriot Head cannons with Sebastian reacting to a new member of the group and eventually falling in love with her (or them)

By the way, hope you're doing okay. ✨

I'm doing fine and dandy, how about you? Let's fawn over our fav sassy sniper man together :)

***********************

Brand New - Sebastian Moran x Reader

He, in all honesty, didn't care too much who William added the their group.

As long as they stayed out of range of his rifle, he was fine with it.

You were a little different, though.

"A new member, Will?" He snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray beside him, "Didn't know we were still looking for people." All William could do in response was chuckle, "We are always looking for people to join our cause." As if on cue, there was a knock at the door to William's study. The man in question hummed, "Come on in." A young woman stepped in. Moran eyed her up and down, taking in her appearance. Her hair was pulled back into a simple taut bun, her e/c eyes shyly downturned as she spoke, "William? Is this the man you wanted me to meet?" No. Way. Sebastian laughed, "Is this broad the wife of that guy you hired?" He gestured into your general vicinity, "She looks like she'd need help asking a clerk for assistance at the corner shop." All you could do in response was scowl, but before you acted, William raised a hand to stop you. His other hand picked up a stack of papers on his desk, promptly using them to smack Moran on the head. "She is more than capable at carrying out her role here. Moran, you are dismissed."

Moran continued badgering you as you two walked through the halls, his voice booming in the open space, "You look too shy to be here, birdie." He tested the nickname on his tongue. "You're so quiet. You gotta speak up if you want anyone here to listen." He kept walking, but stopped once he realised something was very different. He couldn't hear your footsteps anymore. Looking around him, you were gone. "Birdie?" Sebastian whipped his head around, trying to listen for you, "Come on, I didn't mean it that seriously-" He froze when he felt cold metal on his throat, so very close to his adam's apple. Your free hand had grasped one of his arms, tugging it behind his back painfully. Plush lips traced the shell of his ear, and though he considered himself a war-hardened man, he could have sworn he felt a flutter in his heart. "Sebastian, was it?" Oh. Your voice was no longer meek. No longer timid. A poison had seeped into your words, making his knees go weak. "Perhaps I should call you Basher? Wouldn't that be fun?" Your words were pointed by the dagger digging ever so slightly into his throat, and he could feel a nervous bead of sweat fall down his forehead. "Well, Basher," The knife withdrew, and he whipped around, only to find you weren't there anymore. "Just so you know," He turned his head foreward again, towards where he had been previously facing. There you were, sheepish expression gone. Your eyes were like a siren's, captivating him helplessly. "Just because I am small, just because I am bashful, does not mean I am incapable of holding my own." You turned then, heading back to your room, before throwing a wink over your shoulder, "You might wanna look in the mirror, loverboy. You got a little something on your neck." His eyes widened, turning to the reflective vase on the table beside him. A few drops of blood had appeared around his jugular, almost forming in the shape of a heart. He looked back in your direction. You were gone again.

[paradubolical]

it's that time again

here's how to make alcohol at home

recipe under the cut. it's long. I warned you.

FOREWARD:

I do not endorse regular substance abuse or at-home distillation without proper training. Don’t hit your kids. Don’t blow up your house. It’s okay to eat shit and die, like, once every three months, not every two weeks, not every weekend. If you’re doing that, there’s not much I can do to help or give in way of advice. But this recipe is not for you. And you should reconsider some stuff if you haven’t already.

That being said.

The following is my personal method for brewing beer, mead, wine, etc. I have utilized this method many times and it has worked wonderfully. I have achieved up to 15% proof. This means that the substance you create should be perfectly drinkable and safe if you follow the instructions and use your head. HOWEVER. You should be prepared to read this whole document before making anything. There are warnings and safety precautions you need to take, and I don’t want anyone to get botulism of some shit because of a shoddy recipe that doesn’t explain absolutely everything.

I also do not encourage the practice of distillation at home. This is not because it is illegal. For those unaware, distillation is the semi-complicated process of heating alcohol to produce hard liquors. While it may sound fun to make Smirnoff from home, there is a reason we do not. Alcohol is extremely flammable. You will set yourself or your valuables on fire.

Ingredients:

1 Packet ActiveDry Yeast

1 Cup Sugar or 1 Cup Sugar Equivalent*

⅔ Gallon Water

Supplies:

1 Gallon Container

1 Suitable Cork or Lid**

3-4 Ballons, Latex Gloves, or even condoms will do honestly***

IMPORTANT:

You must have a space prepared ahead of time to store the JFCB while it brews. Remember. It will stink like hell. Anyone who smells it will know it’s alcohol. Use your noggin okay

NOTES:

*

In simple terms, alcohol is created when yeast eats sugar. You can use pretty much anything sugary. Don’t use chocolate unless you want to die.

I like to use those strawberry-flavored grandma hard candies. The stuff they make is super fucking strong and tastes like god himself descended from the heavens to kick your ass. It makes what I like to call the JFCB. It’s high-proof enough to burn your throat. So, you know, try to moderate.

**

You need something to seal the container with once you’re done. Pick wisely.

***

It’s gotta be something that can form a seal around the lip of the container, but also expand like a balloon. These are some of the things I’ve found work best.

INSTRUCTIONS:

Creating the Base

Take your 1-Gallon Container and fill it with half the packet of ActiveDry yeast. You don’t need all of it. Trust me on this one.

Pour in your 1 Cup Sugar or Equivalent.

Pour in the ⅔ Gallon of Water.

Either whisk or mix vigorously. When it starts foaming, you’re done.

Stage 1

Put the Balloon/Latex/Condom over the lip of the container. Make sure it’s secure and extremely tight, but there’s plenty of room for air to fill.

Find your designated Place to Put It. This should be somewhere nobody’s gonna smell it, and also somewhere nobody’s gonna go for the next three odd months.

Set your shit down.

Wait 2-3 weeks.

Stage 2

After 2-3 weeks, the alcohol should stop emitting gas. At this point, it’s safe to cork. Don’t do it beforehand or the container will explode.

I like to put some hot glue or wax over the lip just to make sure it’s sealed extra well. I sometimes put tinfoil too. It doesn’t actually help anything, just looks fancy.

Find somewhere nice to store it. Make sure it’s right side up. Odds are you sealed it pretty poorly if it’s your first time, and you’re gonna be in deep shit if it starts to smell.

If it does, that means you corked it too early. Move it back to your Place to Put It for like a month. Recork it after that time’s up. It might be difficult, but you’re smart. You can do it. It should be good to go after that.

And there you have it. A nice bottle of…. Something?

Enjoy. Or just leave it to sit.

FAQ:

Q: I’m worried about getting botulism from this shit. Is it really safe?

A: Usually, people don’t get botulism. My rule of thumb is that if it smells like shit you should really just throw it away. If you’re really worried, I’d also recommend throwing it away. The paranoia’s not worth it.

Q: I’m a minor. Should I try this at home?

A: Probably not. I’m a minor too, so fuck’s to say what my opinion’s worth.

Q: I want to try vodka/scotch/whiskey. What should I do?

A: You should just not. Or buy it at the store. I don’t know man i’m not the all-seeing eye

Q: I’ve heard you need an airlock for this. Do you need an airlock for this?

A: Absolutely fucking not. They are feeding you airlock propaganda. You don’t need an airlock.