#Late night Lemonade {lemon}

[comingtogetyoumelvin]

Minute Maid Lemonade Crystals (Commercial, 1981)

[improbable-outset]

📄 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞

Kenji Sato x Fem!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.3k

𝐀𝐎𝟑 | 𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 | 𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐖 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐖: Pregnant!Reader, innuendos, Kenji’s dirty thots 🙄, handjob, Sub!Ken, mentions of come eating

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your midnight cravings turn into something more than Kenji bargained for

Kenji woke up to the soft sound of your voice as you gently shook him awake. For a moment, he felt disoriented, and his mind was still foggy from sleep. But then he turned to face you, the familiarity of your scent anchored him.

The room was dark, the late hours casting soft shadows over your features. He could just about make out your facial features, the crinkle in your brows and your mouth slightly open.

“I’m thirsty,” you said. Kenji rubbed the sleep from his eyes and let out a yawn as he tried to fully wake up. He was still out of it, but he managed to process what you said.

“Water, right?” he guessed, his voice still thick with sleep as he sat up and pushed the blanket off.

His body still craved the warmth of the blanket, but your request pulled him out of that comfort. Even half-asleep, he still couldn’t ignore you.

He let out another yawn before he ran a hand through his unruly hair— a reflexive attempt to wake himself up more.

“But I don’t want water. I want a lemon popsicle,” you replied firmly.

Kenji blinked at you, the request slowly processing in his tired brain. You couldn’t be serious. A popsicle at this time of the night?

He gave you a dumbfounded look, searching for any signs to see if you were joking. But the pout and the stern look in your eyes told you weren’t bluffing.

He sighed, realising it was one of those pregnancy cravings— unpredictable, sometimes inconvenient. But he knew not to ignore them.

He should’ve expected it with you being five months pregnant. He heard stories from others but experiencing it first hand was something else entirely.

“Why?” he asked, partly in an attempt to stall, hoping you might change your mind.

“It’s more refreshing,” Kenji rolled his eyes, though he had to admit, it was amusing hearing your reasoning. It was one of the quirks he was slowly growing into, even if it was a little exasperated sometimes.

“Can’t I just get you some lemonade,” he suggested even though he knew that it would be pointless to ask.

“No, I want a popsicle,” you repeated, leaving no room for negotiation.

Typical, he thought. Though he knew you beat him in his reasoning.

“Alright, alright. You want a popsicle? I’ll get you one.” As much as he preferred to stay in bed, he knew this would all be worth it at the end— he would do anything to keep you and the baby satisfied.

He turned to leave the room, his feet dragging slightly as he padded to the kitchen. Tiredness still seeped in his bones, making his steps feel heavier and his movements slow.

He opened the freezer, the cold air hitting his face as he squinted against the brightness. The light from the freezer felt sharper against the surrounding darkness.

He began rummaging around the drawers until, finally, he found the damn lemon popsicle. With a sense of triumph, he pulled it out and headed back to the room.

When he returned, he found you sitting up against the headboard, waiting patiently for the popsicle. Kenji carefully unwrapped the popsicle, the crinkling of the wrapper was loud against the quiet room. He handed it to you to take.

“Here…” he said softly, masking the yawn threatening to escape.

He didn’t want you to feel guilty for waking him. Though it was a little irritating that you were awake at this hour, it wasn’t good for you— or the baby— to be up when you should be sleeping.

“Ahhh, thank you.” You beamed, taking the treat from his hand.

The smile was as bright as Christmas morning. It gave him a new source of energy through his heart. He’d move mountains, even wake up in the middle of the night, just to see you smile up at him like that.

Without waiting another second, you wrapped your lips around the cold treat, savouring the taste with a contented sigh.

Kenji’s eyes locked on the popsicle in your mouth, watching you as you sucked the flavour out of it, the slight crack as your teeth grazed the surface.

He caught himself staring, his thoughts teetering on the edge of dangerous territory. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, clearing his throat to regain his composure.

“That good, huh?” he teased, though he couldn’t hide the slight strain in his voice. His eyes flickered between your blissful face and the popsicle you were feasting on.

It was hard to ignore the growing desire within him, the way his mind kept drifting to dirty thoughts. He forced himself to shift his focus to something else, hoping he could distract himself.

“Can I take your attention off the popsicle for a moment? There’s something I wanted to talk about,” he asked.

But you didn’t seem to catch what he said, eyes closed and too busy relishing the popsicle, each suck and lick sending a shiver down his spine. It was pathetic, but a small part of him actually envied the damn popsicle in your hand.

He shook his head and teared his gaze away before he took a deep breath to steady himself. He needed to stay on topic. “Can you just look at me, please? I want to ask you something…”

Finally, you look back up at him. Your lips were slightly wet from when you were liking the juice off of them.

The raw sight of you, combined with the lemon scent in the air, made his thoughts spiral. He could only imagine how sweet and zesty you would taste if he kissed you right now.

Kenji swallows thickly, pushing the thought aside. “There we go. Now, I have your undivided attention,” he managed to crack a smile at you. “You know how excited I’ve been since we found out about the baby, right? I can’t wait to be a dad. But there’s one thing that’s been on my mind.”

“What?” you asked, but before he could answer you, you shifted your gaze away and started licking the popsicle again— slow and deliberate. At least he knew you were listening— sort of.

Kenji paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he asked, “Have you thought of any baby names? We haven’t discussed it yet and I want to know what you think.”

You didn’t respond right away. Instead you sucking the melted juice that dripped down to the base of the popsicle. You seemed more interested in the frozen treat than the conversation.

Kenji gave you an incredulous look, though he couldn’t help but be a little amused.

The way your lips wrapped around it and the soft sound of your tongue sliding against the icy surface…it was far more distracting than he anticipated. You were savouring every bite, each one slower than the last, and it was driving him a little crazy.

Kenji coughed, trying to cover up the fact that he had been staring. “Try and focus. I know you’re enjoying the popsicle, but I need an answer,” he pressed on, though he was really trying to convince himself more than you.

“No I haven’t,” you said simply, your tongue swirling around the tip of the popsicle again.

Kenji couldn’t hide his disappointment. This was something he wanted to take seriously, especially since this was your first child together. “Really? You haven’t given any thought to the baby’s name?” He sighed, a little exasperated. “I thought you’d at least have some ideas,”

“Not really,” you said, still focused on the popsicle, sucking the flavour from the side with hypnotic concentration.

Kenji figured that now would be the perfect time to discuss the topic— the atmosphere was calm, and you were in a good mood. But it seemed that you weren’t as fully engaged in the conversation as he hoped.

“You really are depriving me of brainstorming all these precious names for our baby…” Kenji chuckled. “You know how much I love the idea of picking out the perfect name for our little bundle of joy,”

“We still have time,”

Another lick.

“Yeah, we do. But the sooner we decide on a name, the better,”

Kenj frowned as he realised he was losing you again, like he was just a blur in the background. But watching the way you continue to devour the popsicle with innocent enthusiasm was enough to forget about his disappointment.

The feeling was replaced with something else, something hard to ignore. He could feel the effect it was having in his body.

All he could do was watch— it woke a feeling inside him that he couldn’t fight back anymore. But what really put him on the edge was the soft moan that slipped from your lips, a sound so low and satisfied it sent a jolt of electricity through him.

He felt a flush of heat creep up his neck, spreading across his body like a wildfire. There was no way you were that oblivious to what you were doing to him, was there?

For a moment, he thought about saying something, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he decided to wait until you were finished, even if it was killing him inside.

He could feel his nails digging into his palms as his fists clenched by his sides, trying to anchor himself in place. He didn’t realise the sticky heat that pooled between his legs until he felt his boxers grow tighter.

Crap…

This couldn’t be happening…not now.

This wasn’t even distracting anymore— it was torturous. The effect you had on him was more intense than he anticipated.

He mentally scolded himself for standing there, watching you— he should’ve gone to bed straight after so he didn’t have to witness you and put himself in a predicament.

Finally, you finished the damn frozen treat, and Kenji seized the opportunity to step in. He stepped closer until he was right in front of you. Leaning in, he soft breath ghosted over your lips as you met his gaze

“Are you doing that on purpose?” He mumbled, a tint of irritation in his voice that he couldn’t suppress.

“Huh?” You looked perplexed, but Kenji couldn’t tell if it was genuine or if you were playing dumb.

“Don’t act so coy,” he muttered, his voice rougher now. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Your eyes dropped to his groin and he could see the gears turning in your head— the slow realisation seeping into your features.

“Oh…” you looked back up and gaped at him.

“Yeah…oh…” he mocked your tone with exasperation, crossing his arms over his chest.

He didn’t expect his bulge to look so visible under his trousers, but it was a relief that you weren’t so clueless anymore. Though, it didn’t do much to cool the fire burning in him.

“Sorry,” you offered meekly.

You don’t sound very sorry.

You don’t sound like you regretted anything.

He let out a huff, still trying to maintain some semblance of control. Part of him was still pissed at how you'd been acting, but he was so incredibly hard for you that he couldn't stop himself from wanting you.

Kenji forced himself to tear his gaze away, reminding himself that you weren’t supposed to be awake. The logical side of him was screaming to let it go and focus on getting you back to sleep. It took every fiber of him to fight off the desire to take you— he knew you must’ve been sleepy.

But it was a losing battle, and the way you were looking at him only made it worse. He couldn't overlook his swollen cock attacking the front of his pants, seeking freedom from his clothes.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, okay? I don’t want you to overexert yourself,” he said, trying to sound firm. He could only imagine how much precum was already starting to leak.

“I can use my hands,” you whispered. It was like dangling a matchstick near a powder keg.

His heart rate spiked as he halted at your words. The logical side of his head was struggling to keep control as every pulse in his body throbbed with need— his cock twitched painfully under his pants.

“N-no.” He stuttered, still shifting awkwardly in his place. Your offer was so tempting, but he could’ve give in. You needed rest.

“But I want to take care of you,” you insisted.

“I know you do but you need rest.” He said firmly. The conviction in his voice was barely holding on by a thread

However, his resistance shattered the moment you reached out to touch his jaw.

Your touch was firing, sending shivers down his spine as your hands gently traced the line of his jaw and moved to stroke his cheeks.

That’s cheating…

“Stop…” he protested weakly, but his words didn’t reach his head. His body longed for your touch and he knew that he would be frustrated throughout the night if he refused your offer.

“Just a quickie.”

He would’ve refused if he hadn’t felt his tip rub against the fabric of his boxers. But the alarmingly pleasurable sensation along with your soft voice was impossible to ignore.

The next moment felt like a blur and Kenji found himself perched on the bed, bare. His cock was standing upright, twitching and begging to be touched. The precum that already leaked from the tip only exposed his predicament even more.

“Please…please…” Kenji couldn’t mask the desperation in his voice as he looked at you with desperate eyes.

The corner of your lips tugged up in amusement as you heard his tone, the power shift between the two of you was more pronounced than ever. You had him wrapped around your fingers so easily.

“Are you begging now?” you teased, your voice soft yet dripping with a bit of mockery. A quiet chuckle leaving your lips as you leaned in closer. He could feel the ghost of your hands hovering over his dick and it was driving him insane.

At this point, Kenji didn’t care how desperate he looked, or how quickly the tables had turned against him. All he could focus on was feeling more of you, even having you close, erasing the distance between the two of you.

“I’m…not begging,” he protested weakly, though his words fell flat. You both knew he was lying, his tone betraying him with every word.

His breath was shallow and his heart hammered in his chest, denial sounded almost absurd. He wouldn’t have minded if you called him a beggar— he’d wear the title proudly if it meant you’d give in and let him indulge in you.

You tilted your head slightly, observing his reaction with a knowing smile— a look you were aware would send another shiver through his body. His eyes met yours, wide and pleading— a failed attempt at grasping onto his dignity.

“Don’t look at me like that…” his voice sounded more like a plea than he intended.

“Like what, hm?” you asked, acting clueless. But the dark glint in your eyes gave away to your intentions. The way you watched him only made his dick twitch more and you relished the effect you were having on him.

Your fingers wrapped around his length— your touch was like fire. Kenji had to clamp his onto lower with his teeth to suppress the guttural moan that erupted from his throat.

His cock reacted with more precum beading from his tip. It was a huge relief to finally feel your touch where his body had been desperately screaming for.

But the feeling didn’t last long when you didn’t move your hand for a while and he was starting to grow impatient.

Through gritted teeth, he managed to bring himself to speak, “Please, just…”

“Just what, Kenji? Use your words,”

He could feel his sanity teetering the longer you stalled. “You know what I want!”

His entire being wound tight, the tension knotted further and it was obvious that you could see how much he was aching for you.

But you still didn’t give him what he wanted. Not yet. “Do I? Because it sounds like you’re not sure yourself,”

He grunted your name in frustration, but he knew deep down that he was enjoying this just as much as you were. If his pride hadn’t crumbled before, it definitely had now. “I need you…to move your hand on my…”

His sentence was cut short when you started stroking his dick with slow precision, putting slight pressure on the sensitive skin.

“That’s more like it,”

He made no effort to hide the sounds that escaped his mouth uncontrollably. His moans and whines came out as a broken symphony. The delicious friction from your palms was dizzying.

His body was taut with his muscles trembling. You lightly squeezed the tip with your thumb and forefinger and his hips jerked in response to the sudden sensation. A strangled moan escaped his mouth.

Blood rushed to his ears as he felt his senses getting lost in the haze.

He reached his peak quicker than he anticipated. His orgasm tore through his body that suddenly came as a shock to him.

He let out another loud moan, the bliss completely overwhelming him. His release spilled down your knuckles as you kept stroking him, riding out his high.

His mind was hazy and it took him a few short breaths to come down from his high and simmer down from the afterglow.

“Crap…I didn’t mean to go so quickly. I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his face burning a little from embarrassment as he looked at you and saw his fresh hot mess over your hands.

He couldn’t believe how quickly he lost control, even though he had no resistance at all the moment you started to palm him.

You let out a soft laugh, clearly amused by the situation you both were in now.

“D-don’t laugh at me,” he mumbled, still embarrassed by the mess on your hands. Kenji leaned back against the headboard, his deflated length resting against his thigh.

His body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure, his mind still floating in a blissful trance.

“Do you think licking this off will be bad for the baby?” Your voice jolted him back to reality. He looked back at you and saw his release still glistening on your hands.

His heart, that had just begun to slow down, stuttered back to a fast rhythm. He couldn’t believe your words, and the nonchalance in your tone only made it worse.

“I…can’t believe you just said that so casually…” his voice was a mixture of amusement and shock.

“What?” You gave him a look that was both innocent and self-aware. “You know I’d swallow your load any day of the week,”

Kenji straightened himself up on the bed, letting out a shaky breath. He tried to shake off the daze that still lingered. The sight of you, the raw sound of your bedroom voice— it was tempting him to lose himself in you all over again.

But his gaze fell on your belly that housed you unborn child. The reminder that you were pregnant was enough to keep his hormones in check and reel in his desires.

“Yeah…I know you would,” he finally replied as let out a shaky breath, “But I don’t want you to do that now…I don’t want you to risk the baby’s health,”

You nodded in agreement, your teasing replaced with understanding.

“You’re right. I’ll go wash my hands,”

Kenji watched as you got up and left the room. Even in the afterglow, when his mind was still foggy from his release, the protective instinct was stronger than his labido.

When you returned to bed, Kenji quickly grasped your hand to pull you in so close, you were nose-to-nose. He made sure your eyes were on him.

“Don’t think this is over, by the way,” his voice was low and sultry. “I’ll get you back for teasing me…soon.”

You chuckled, your breath mingling with his— your voice dropped to match his. “I’ll be waiting…”

My mother used to crave lemon popsicle when she was pregnant. Is it bad I’m using that as inspo 23 years later lmao??

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @rosaliin-blog @bloosnothere @nina-from-317 @ivvieene @bobbeshwar

@ichkyu @gyusimp

[entwnii]

it’s already late at night when 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔 walks out of the gym, his sport bag in his hand.

the droplets of water falling from his platinum blonde hair run down his face and the back of his neck. paired with the chill breeze of the night, it makes a trail of shivers run down his spine and goosebumps appear on his light skin.

god, why did he forget to bring a towel ?

he grabs his keys from the back pocket of his shorts before opening the car’s door, throwing his sport bag somewhere on the backseat while he slides down on the driver seat.

he turns his car on, a white porsche 718 spyder, hoping that his hair will dry during the ride home before driving off to your shared apartment.

the wind that blows through his blonde locks makes the pro athlete sigh in contentment, a small smile appearing on his slightly chapped lips as he drives through the busy streets of osaka, the neon lights of the stores lighting his face in various colors.

it doesn’t take him longer than twenty minutes to get to his residence, parking his convertible car in it’s usual spot.

atsumu grabs his bag’s handle and gets out of the car before locking it. he walks over to the apartment building’s entrance, opening the door and making his way to the staircase.

once he reaches the third floor, he walks over to the door of your shared apartment, the only one on the third floor.

the blonde-haired man unlocks the front door with his keys before stepping inside.

your fiancé carefully closes the door behind him, not wanting to wake you up. he kicks his shoes off his feet before placing his sport bag on the floor next to the door.

atsumu’s dark brown eyes are attracted by a small light coming from the living room.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the pro volleyball player walks over to the living room, scratching the back of his neck.

the frown on his face immediately disappears at the sight in front of him, a fond smile replacing it.

the television is on, mamma mia is currently playing on the screen, one of your favorite movies. there’s a plate of muffins on the coffee table, blueberry and lemon ones with powdered sugar icing on top along with a glass bottle of lemonade.

all the while you are laying on the skandi couch, facing the television, visibly asleep. one of your cheeks is pressed against the back of your hand, your eyes closed and your plump lips slightly parted. soft breaths escape you as one of atsumu’s large shirts is draped over your body.

despite all of his efforts not to wake you up, atsumu’s foot bumps into one of the couch’s footers, making him yelp at the sudden pain, which wakes you up.

atsumu watches as you turn around, facing the couch’s back, a frown on your face while a small whine escapes you. your eyelashes flutter open, trying to adjust your eyesight to the light coming from the television.

as you sit up, you start rubbing your eyes, letting a groan of complain before finally glancing to the side, glaring at your fiancé.

“sorry, baby.” atsumu flashes you a small smile, a hint of regret visible in his eyes, despite his urge to laugh at your sleepy appearance.

“how’s my future mama ?” he asks as he places his hands on the back of the skandi couch, leaning towards you.

“fine, but she was quite calm until you arrived.” you accusingly tell him, a subtle frown on your features as you place a hand on your baby bump.

“‘t’s not my fault she likes my voice.” atsumu lets out a chuckle, placing a hand on the side of your face, turning your head to place a small peck on your plump lips. “only two months left…”

you let out a small hum at his words, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

atsumu parts away from your plump lips, licking his own. “imma eat somethin’, what do ya wanna eat ?”

you scratch the bridge of your nose with your nails, thinking about his offer. “i want vanilla ice cream… with olive oil and salt.”

atsumu nods his head at your request, a small ‘kay’ leaving his lips before he walks over to the kitchen.

he knows better than to criticize your cravings, especially since it isn’t the weirdest one out of your seven months of pregnancy.

your fiancé turns on the kitchen’s lights, scratching the back of his neck as he walks around the kitchen to gather the ingredients.

he grabs two bowls from one of the drawers before turning over to the fridge and opening it. he grabs the vanilla ice cream container along with his oatmeal and the milk.

atsumu places a good amount of oatmeal into his bowl before pouring some milk on top and putting the bowl on the side.

he then begins to scoop out some vanilla ice cream, placing it in the second bowl before grabbing the olive oil. he pours a trail of the oil on top of the ice cream and sprinkles some sea salt on top.

the blonde-haired boy wipes the kitchen counter, cleaning the small mess he made, and puts the ingredients back in the fridge.

he grabs both the bowls, along with two tablespoons and walks back to the living room.

“here ya go, pretty girl.” atsumu announces with a grin on his face as he hands you your bowl and a spoon.

he slides on the skandi couch right next to you and digs into his oatmeal. he glances over at you, his grin widening as he watches the pleased expression on your face as you savor the ice cream.

“do you want to try it, ‘tsumu ?” you ask as you look over at atsumu, pointing to the mixture in your bowl with your spoon.

“nah, i’m not trustin’ you with that.” he shakes his head, a loud laugh escaping him.

safe to say that you were pissed at him after that, which only made him laugh more.

[sundays-sims]

M Y R I A D . (early access, patreon)

Hi all!

First of all, I am super sorry for the extreme delay in posting this month' set. I have had an insane month, it felt like everything that could have happened to slow me down, did, in fact, happen. I hope it's ok with everyone & thank you so much for understanding. ♥

The next month's publication will also be delayed due to the fact that I have been working on this myriad set until late last night and I haven't made any progress for next month's content. Again, thank you for your patience on this. You can expect the publication at the end of August instead of beginning of the month. Rest assured that I haven't cancelled any content, or anything like that, it will only be posted later during the month.

Now, about this month' set! It is a bit unusual as I normally go for pieces that are all part of the same "room type" but I decided to go for a bunch of mini sets ideas. I have been thinking about doing something like this for a while; more random objects that still go together. I kept my organic modern design aesthetic, so expect neutral tones & natural materials, but I also added some bright blues, greens & yellows for the mini lemonade set. The myriad set contains 15 new meshes in total, from seating to surfaces, along with a bunch of cute clutter.

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

D O W N L O A D  L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)

S E T   D E T A I L S :

brass & marble side table – 10 swatches

caffettiera – 3 swatches

candle – 4 swatches

ceramic plate – 12 swatches

coffee cup & spoon – 7 swatches

coffee table – 3 swatches

croissant & plate – 7 swatches

dining chair – 5 swatches

dining table – 10 swatches

lemon water glass – 1 swatch

lemon water pitcher – 1 swatch

lemonade pitcher – 15 swatches

lemons – 1 swatch

marble console – 9 swatches

rattan chair – 4 swatches

** myriad will be released (free) on August 21st**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pizza night

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce

“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.

“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.

“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.

“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.

he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.

“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”

“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.

you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.

“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”

“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.

--

“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.

“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.

“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.

you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.

“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.

“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.

callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.

“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.

“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”

“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.

“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”

“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”

“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”

“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 

“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”

“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.

--

you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.

“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.

“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.

you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.

“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 

“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.

“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”

“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 

“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.

“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”

you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.

--

“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.

“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 

“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 

you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.

you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.

hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.

“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 

“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.

“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 

“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.

“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”

“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”

topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.

you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.

“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”

you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.

“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.

--

you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.

“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.

it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.

“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.

“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.

“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.

--

“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.

“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.

“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”

“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 

you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.

--

the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.

“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 

you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”

“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”

“what?” you question. 

“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”

the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”

“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”

you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 

“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 

you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 

--

“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.

it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.

“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”

“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”

rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.

you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1 @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[erwinsvow]

sometimes the boys keep you in the dark about what they’re really up to—they think it’s easier than trying to explain everything to you. you’re real sweet, almost too nice and too sweet, so they know you’ll have your own issues with their plans. and besides all of that, you’re still a kook princess deep down, and when you get the sense that anything even remotely illegal is going on, you make the jump to panic immediately. 

so they don’t always tell you what’s going on-recon missions late at night are now exploring trips.

“why can’t we explore during the day, again? when it’s sunny?” you question, while jj shines a flashlight at your face, making you whine and cover your eyes. pope and john b share a glance.

“‘cause, princess, it’s more fun at night. otherwise pope couldn’t use all these gadgets. and it’s spooky, right?” jj throws in, hands wrapping around your stomach from behind and tickling. you start laughing, and they think they’ve avoided your question well enough for now. “see? havin’ fun now, arent’ya?”

“don’t worry, pretty girl, we’ll protect you.” you comply a lot more once john b says that.

at the chateau, when they’re all pouring over dusty old maps and books, you sit and flick through your phone until you’re bored enough to ask what they’re even looking at. the boys all exchange a glance—they do that a lot, you think absentmindedly. 

“uh, john b?” jj asks.

“um, well-” john starts, but gets interrupted by pope.

“no, jj went last time, so it’s my turn now-”

“well, i can go again, if you guys are occupied with this-”

“not gonna steal my turn, jayj.” pope walks over to you, leaving the pages behind. you smile at the attention, happy just to not be alone.

“should i go make lemonade for everyone? will you keep me company, pope?” and he nods, looking back at the boys a final time.

“sure, sweetheart, let’s go,” and he takes your hand in his, guiding you to the messy kitchen. 

just as you start cutting the lemons, you look up at pope, wanting to ask about what they were all so hyper-focused on—instead of being focused on you.

“will you tell me what they’re talking about?” you glance at pope shyly, always embarrassed since you worry if he thinks you’re dumb. 

“it’s nothing to worry your pretty head about, sweetheart. just john b’s stuff, and we’re tryna help him, s’all.” 

“can i help with anything?”

“you’re helping right now,” he reassures, and you feel giddy, starting the juice the lemons. “we all love your lemonade.” you come back with a pitcher of lemonade and a big smile, content to just lay around and watch them work into the afternoon. 

if you find out they’re gonna be on the boat, and they didn’t tell you, it’s a whole nightmare on its own. so when they finally have the perfect calm day to go use the underwater drone, they pick you up. 

you’re dolled up since it’s your absolute favorite—boat day! you’re wearing a flimsy yellow bikini and one of pope’s button ups over it, sporting john b’s old sunglasses and your matching shark-tooth necklace from jj. you climb onto the boat with your little pink cooler and the romance book you’ve been reading this week, before they take off into the ocean. 

“uh, princess?” jj asks, and you look up. he gestures at your cooler. “didn’t peg you to pack bait for us, but i mean, i’m grateful-”

“ew, jayj, no. it’s snacks!” you look at the others excitedly, opening the pink lid and taking out sliced fruit and carrot sticks. you pass them to john b, who passes them to pope, who then hands it to jj, who starts eating. “there’s also ranch for the carrot sticks, but i made it myself so it’s a lot healthier than the store-bought kind. and sandwiches for later. i love boat days.” 

you curl up with some apple slices and your book on the little seat, the boys looking at each other. a little while later, when they start what they really came out here for, john b catches jj and pope staring at you.

“i’m gonna propose. today.” 

“not if i do it first.”

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.3: Dance With Me (Spike x Y/N)

Request: No. Part 3 of the Multi fic.

Synopsis: Being a cursed slayer is hard. Harder when a vampire won't just leave you alone.

TW: None.

Word Count: 1.2k

Previous | Next

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Sun has set and the air is thick with fog. It’s eerily quiet in the cemetery. Not a creature to disturb the atmosphere. Inside the crypt there permeated a different energy.

Heavy sighs and lustful laughs can be heard. The sound of passionate kissing and groping is evident in the quiet of the night. Spike held you close to him on the sofa. Like a predator that caught his prey. You sighed in his mouth as you melded in a fiery storm of desire. His hands roamed your upper back, trying to unclasp your bra. You didn’t protest. Everything was going well. Too well. You came out for air. Heavy eye contact was made. As if you could communicate your deepest desires with one look.

As Spike was ready to go in for another round of erotic contact a loud noise was heard. He looked up but nothing was there. Another thud nearer still. He felt in a haze. As if something was amiss. As he looks back down at you, you disappear. His dream is broken. He wakes up with a gasp. Another dreaded dream of the cursed slayer. He felt surprised that his attention had shifted so suddenly to the new slayer. His heart still belonged to Buffy, or at least that’s what he liked to believe. However, these heavy sensual dreams were more frequent as of late.

Outside y/n roamed the cemetery, hacking away at heavy foliage near the wooded area. Another night out on the hunt. If it could stop, that would be an improvement to y/n's life. Being cursed to hunt demons for over 1,000 years is less of a privilege and more of a punishment. The world may be safe, but y/n loses her grip on reality. Every day is the same. Wake up, go to work, wait till the sun sets and hunt. Everything was the same with a little twist, this time around. Spike being the lemon to her lemonade. She regarded him as an equal, someone that she enjoyed being around, but the lord knows he was bad for her. With his British accent, bravado and underlying poet heart. She had met many like him, but he had a spark to him. A light that others missed. She hadn’t seen him since their slow dance. You could say that tonight her hunt was partially focused on finding him again.  

The cemetery was empty, quiet. The fog gave it an eerie ambiance. Y/n was guarded and ready for a fight. No, hoping for a fight. A crack in the distance catches her attention. She walks closer, hoping to encounter a demon. She pounces on a bush, wrestles with a branch or two to find nothing. A bunny on its way to its hide out.

"Attacking critters, are we?" A smug voice called from behind.

Y/n whips her head around to find him, leaning on a tombstone. She made a mental note of how ridiculously big the tombstone was. She feigned annoyance.

"You can never be too sure in the Hellmouth. What are you up to in this cryptic place." She brushed off the twigs and leaves that gathered in her hair.

"Vampire plus cemetery equals home."

She felt dumb. "Oh right, god forbid you find somewhere that doesn't smell like death"

"I like to call it musk." He grinned and walked closer. He fiddled with her hair, pulling the remaining twigs out of it. "Are we hunting tonight, cursed slayer?"

She snatched her hair back. "It’s just slayer and yes. I heard that a big demon was hiding out here. You didn't see a skinny little rascal full of horns and pointy teeth, did ya?"

"The description paints a picture but none that I’ve seen. Why not entertain yourself with some vampires while you wait?"

"No can do. That's Buffy's territory. I just hunt demons now a days.”

Spike raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “A retired slayer?"

"No, to loop back to your original point, I’m a cursed slayer. Part of the ordeal is that I can't kill vampires and they can't kill me. So we're eternally stuck with each other. Poetic, ain't it?" Y/n makes a face of defeat.

Spike takes a breath, processing what you just said. He is thoroughly amused by your circumstances. Enthralled with the idea that you can't hurt him and he can’t hurt you. Equals.

He proceeds to laugh after a pause. "You're pathetic."

"Super rude." She pushes past him. She regrets seeking him out. Of course, regardless of how she feels about him, he is still evil.

He reaches back for her only to miss her hand. The slight touch sending shivers down his spine. What a nit he has been. If she were like Buffy, she would’ve bantered with him. Picked a fight. Y/n is much less tolerant of his teasing.

Y/n walks with purpose deeper into the cemetery woods in search of the demon. Spike follows her.

"What do you want Spike? Let me be pathetic in peace." She's angry and hurt.

This is why you don't share about your curse. It makes you feel defective, useless. She thought.

He steps in front of you, hands up in a defensive stance. "I’m sorry. I didn't mean it as an insult"

You laugh. "How else am I supposed to take it?"

"I’m not used to people taking what I say to heart. I was expecting an insult back."

"Yes, please make fun of my suffering. I just love being eternal. If you’re looking for a fight, go somewhere else. Now move, this pathetic cursed slayer still has work to do."

As you walk away, he beats himself up internally. What a fucking idiot he's being. How can he reach out to you if he's too busy pushing you away? So, he follows you again without a word.

Screeching is heard from a couple of miles away. A pained scream from an unknown being. There's a clearing in the woods and an animal is seen thrashing and fighting for its life. Y/n crouches low, eyes on the demon feeding on the animal.

"That our guy?" Spike sneaks behind you.

You don't answer. You pull a sword from a sheath strapped to your back. You're ready.

You go in fast with a big swing. You miss by a small margin. The demon confronts you and you go at it. His slim form permits him to be agile while you're slightly slowed down by your weapon.

Frustrated, Spike gets tired of being on the sidelines. "Mind if I cut in." He slugs the demon unexpectedly.

The demon stumbles and before he can get his bearings you slice into the demon’s chest cavity. The demon screams out in pain. His body slumps with a disgusting thud.

"That was easy." Spike smirked.

You're frustrated with him for insulting you and the even more for cutting in. It was clear that coming out tonight was a mistake. You turn around and start to storm off, sword in hand. You hated how overly sensitive you felt around Spike. He was just another vampire. So, why were you so hurt by him?

"Wait..." Spike begs.

You swing your sword and place it inches away from his face. He steadies.

"I liked our dance the other night. It felt right. Can we do it again sometime?"

"Are you gonna insult me again?"

Spike pondered it. He liked getting under her skin. "Not unless it turns you on."

You laughed, you couldn't help it. This dolt of a vampire had you in a chokehold and you didn't know why.

"Do you know how to waltz?" She asked.

Spike grimaced. "A bit uppity for my taste but I'll do it." He pushes your sword away and steps closer "But only for you."

[lost-in-fandoms]

magical realism AU in which Daniel is a witch who owns a little garden+coffee/tea shop that is really beloved because his drinks are special and give you exactly what you need. Energizing teas that really do make you feel more awake without having caffeine in them, or drinks that taste exactly like a latte but have no coffee or milk in them. But he's struggling a bit mentally lately, and that reflects in the plants of his garden, struggling to grow or growing a bit too out of control. There's a patch of mint in particular that is taking over all the other plants, and no matter what Daniel does, he can't contain it.

He asks for help to other witch friends, who try to give him potions or spells or suggestions of any kind, but nothing seems to work. Every night he goes to bed with no mint in his garden, and every morning he wakes up with mint everywhere.

Then someone gives him the number of someone who will "for sure be able to help" and Daniel doesn't believe in it, but he's tired and he doesn't know what to do anymore, and he's struggling to make his drinks now, so he calls.

Turns out the number is Max's, who doesn't have any magic powers. Max who turns up in a two-colored car that he fixed himself and who asks where the mint (that now covers every inch of the garden) had started from. Daniel points him out to the initial corner, and leaves him to it.

Two hours later, Max comes to look for him, telling him it should be done. Daniel doesn't believe him, but Max has two big bags of mint in his truck and there's no mint in his garden, so he goes to bed.

There's still no mint the day after.

He calls Max again and Max is confused because it should have worked, but Daniel is like no it did!!! I just want to know how you did it. And Max says, well I just went to the root of the problem and eradicated it. The plant had just become a little over enthusiastic, but if there was no main root to grow from it had nowhere to go.

Daniel refuses to see it as a metaphor for his own problems, and goes on with his life, except that it keeps happening for other plants, and he feels like he's slipping because this is what he could do and now he can't do it anymore. He calls Max, again and again, and Max always fixes the problem, but it's never enough.

One day, Daniel keeps the place closed because his drinks aren't turning out right anyway, and sits out with Max as he carefully prunes the hedge that was trying to grow twenty feet tall. And they talk, and Max is kind and funny and asks questions Daniel doesn't want to answer but will think about in his bed when he's laying awake at night.

Max leaves him the number to a friend of his, a psychologist, and another number, his personal one.

The next time Max comes over, after he's done taming the rose bushes, Daniel invites him inside and they have lemonade and when Daniel kisses him Max tastes like lemon, sugar and spring.

[pascaloverx]

OUR SECRET — MYG

final chapter

Summary: You and Yoongi are having an affair. No, you are not being his lover. But the world is not ready to know that an idol is dating someone. So you two were doing your best to make sure no one found out. Until he breaks up with you. His mistake.

Author's note: It was a beautiful journey to write this fanfic. But unfortunately, it comes to an end in this chapter. I will miss all the readers of this fanfic, which was so precious to me. Thank you all, and until next time.

PREVIOUS NEXT

"When life gives you lemons, make lemonade." Upon reflection, this philosophy could be right, but no one mentions that sometimes, just sometimes, life gives you lemons and you don't have the strength for anything else. It's been two months since your baby passed away. You're trying to move forward, but the path ahead seems so murky, as if there's nowhere to go. Since your daughter's passing, you and Yoongi have been trying to maintain a sense of peace, but it feels like a hollow peace. He works all day and only comes home late at night. You've returned to work as a book editor, doing some freelance work from home.

"How is this going to be?" You ask, with the laptop in your lap, as you stare at the corrections needed for the new book that some new author wants to publish at the publishing house where you work. Yoongi looks at you, bringing a plate of food that he's trying to learn to cook.

"What do you mean by that?" Yoongi speaks as he hands you a plate and takes another for himself. You look, trying to understand if he hasn't noticed that you've been treated like a child since your daughter died.

"I mean, husband, that I know you've been neglecting your concert schedule and what should have been your tour with the boys, because of me. It's noble of you, but you know that I can take care of myself, right?" You say, tasting the macaroni that Yoongi made. He's a good cook.

"Wife, I'm not just doing this for you. It's just that I didn't plan on working at this time. But believe me, I'm working on a new album." Yoongi says as he turns on the television to watch the sports channel. At least that's what you think he's watching.

"Even so, I may seem fragile, but I can be alone. I can even call you while you're away. I don't want you to neglect your life because of me. I'll be here when you come back, no matter where you're from." You say as you set your laptop on the table and sit close to him. You continue eating the macaroni he made. Eventually, both of you finish eating, and you decide to put some music on the television. He looks at you angrily for changing the channel from sports. Then you extend your hand to him, hoping he'll take it so you can dance. After some grumbling, he gets up and pulls you close by your waist.

"You know it's weird for us to dance like this, for no reason after dinner, right?" Yoongi asks, and you feel a bit awkward about saying that you're trying to be spontaneous. It's been a while since you and he have done anything cute together.

"Loving someone means doing senseless things with them, you know? And I think it's been a while since the last time we were romantically together. Our beginning was all secretive and full of passion. Then we had a dramatic breakup that resulted in a surprise pregnancy that left us both grieving for our daughter. We're married now, but I feel like we barely dated. Maybe now is the time for us to do cute, silly, and romantic things." You confide in Yoongi as you rest your head on his shoulder, and you both continue dancing slowly.

"I don't regret any of this, though. Our love story is confusing. Maybe even complicated. But at least I have you. And you have me. And I may not show it very well, but you are the most precious thing I have now. I love my fans, I love my group, but my love for you is greater than the success I have. I know it took a long time for me to say this to you, and I'm really sorry for not being the man you deserved, but I want to be now. Know that." Yoongi says, pulling his head back slightly, looking at you, and you immediately kiss him. A calm and peaceful kiss. Exactly how you want your love to be.

"You know… I could go on tour with you if you need me to. And I think in the future, we can consider expanding our love, but for now, it would be good to take some time to reconnect, you know." You say with your mouth still close to Yoongi's, who gives you a few pecks while seeming very lost in your lips to care much about what you're saying.

"I think this part of reconnecting is very important. Do you want to start now?" Yoongi says and kisses you. A deeper kiss, and extremely needy. Needy for you. You try to show that you feel so much I miss his kisses as much as he does. The truth is, you want Yoongi. You want to give a chance to a flame that has been extinguished for some time. Yoongi holds your face gently but firmly and intensifies the kiss. His hands roaming your body make you feel alive.

"Honey, I think we should take this reconnection to the bedroom, don't you think?" You speak as you move away from him a little and walk at a pace very slowly to your room. Your heart feels like it's going to escape through your mouth, because of your nervousness. But then Yoongi grabs your hand and spins you around.

"I love you." He says smiling slightly and kissing you. You know he loves you. And you feel the same way about him. You then pull him to bed and there you reconnect in the most beautiful way.

Your story continues to be a lesson for some time that not every love story happens in the same way. You loved each other and just when you were separating, you discovered that together you could be better. With Yoongi you faced grief. And with you, Yoongi matured. Fortunately, years later you adapted to married life and he was able to return to being a world-famous singer. You have a mature relationship filled with reconnections. Every year you go to the cemetery to take flowers for your daughter. It seems that sometimes finding a happy ending means going through many barriers. But you're trying to live your happily ever after with Yoongi.

[forgwater]

Late Night Visit To The Kitchen

Happy Birthday to my dear friend, @ferns-island !

Hope you enjoy!~

Vil x Reader

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The hall candelabras burned gently, comforting orange hues warming the stone walls. To the average visitor they’d be quite intimidating, but not to you.

Not when your dear boyfriend is the one ruling over the castle. Housewarden Vil Schoenheit. One of the most critical and exigent students of NRC. With a name that demands respect and adoration.

He holds a sharp cold gaze and as you peer from the kitchen doorway…

You bet you can see him scowling at the cookbook right in front of him. Truly a frightening figure.

His once pristine apron now covered in smudges of flour and cream and the wooden spoon in his hand looks all but ready to be thrown at the wall in what could be assumed as frustration.

“…maybe I should’ve just bought a cake….” you hear him mutter. And unfortunately, a chuckle escapes you. Barely audible… if the kitchen wasn’t almost empty. “I see you find my predicament quite funny, dear.” The blond acknowledges your presence.

“I’m sorry, Vil, but this is quite new!” you excuse. “I wasn’t expecting to find you fighting with a baking recipe this late at night.”

“…I wouldn’t be doing that if my schedule wouldn’t have been filled up at the very last minute. I had plans on mastering this recipe.” He tries to give you a small apologetic look.

“That’s alright! Your effort is very sweet. I appreciate it.” A smile graces his lips at your reassurance.

“You are the sweet one. And I assure you, I have made many plans for your birthday as well as contingency plans.” and you chuckle again.

“So, what is the recipe that’s giving you a hard time? Maybe I can help you?” you inquire.

“…I’m afraid it is a secret.” He responds solemnly, but the small smile playing on his lips betrays his playfulness.

“A secret you say… I believe I saw a few lemons on the counter.” you counter, pointing at the yellow fruits.

“Perhaps I just wanted to make some lemonade.”

“You really don’t want to admit it huh…”

“I will admit it when the result is perfect. Until then you’ll have to be patient.” You pout and Vil can’t help but laugh.

“Not fair.”

“I believe it is fair. Now, if you promise to wait patiently, I promise I will reward you with as many kisses as you want. Does that sound good to you, my dear?”

“Hmmmm… as many kisses as I want, are you sure?” you give the blond a mischievous smile.

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

“Good then!” you turn to leave “But you also have to promise you’ll eat the lemon cake with me!” and with that you dash out of the kitchen, leaving you stunned, yet happy boyfriend to return to his battle with the kitchen utensils.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 051 (finale)

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÈRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (2.4k words)

❥･• chapter 51 — number 1 fan

As the live stream comes to an end, Heeseung wastes no time. With a glimmer of anticipation in his eyes, he draws you close, pulling you into the most enchanting hug you've ever experienced. It's a hug you've yearned for the last 6 months, one that seemed like a distant dream while he was touring the world and you were immersed in your own whirlwind of commitments, filming variety shows, and preparing for your next album.

But even amidst the hectic schedules, neither of you let a day pass without hearing each other's voice. Late-night calls became a ritual, and even when exhaustion threatened to consume you both, you persisted, staying up into the ungodly hours of the night just to cherish those precious moments together.

And now, as your head gently rests against his chest, you feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. This hug is more than a simple desire; it's a need that courses through your very being. The absence of his touch left you yearning and anxious. Yet, as his arms wrap around you, you feel that unsettling void within your chest fill up with his very essence. There's something different about his embrace—something that makes you fit perfectly into every nook and cranny of his arms, like missing pieces of a puzzle. Leaving no doubt that this embrace is where you truly belong.

“And to think you were chasing me away just a few minutes ago.” A soft, breathy laugh escapes Heeseung's lips as he playfully teases you. You feel the warmth of his breath brush the ticklish surface of your skin, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine. With an almost instinctive response, you bury yourself deeper into the crook of his neck, savouring the intimate moment between you two.

"Oh, get a room!" Yuna groans, her playful protest piercing the air. You can almost see her rolling her eyes at the display of affection, and the other members join in with knowing glances and suppressed giggles. "Maybe we will," Heeseung replies, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he plays along. The girls erupt in mock disgust, teasing the two of you further, and you can't help but blush under their teasing gazes. The girls' playful reactions got you pouting in annoyance, but you couldn't help stealing a glance at your boyfriend, who was already gazing back at you with adoration.

With a tender smile, Heeseung gently clears his throat, "Now, if you'll excuse us," He signals for you to grab your belongings and takes this chance to sneak little gifts and souvenirs to your members. You can't deny that you're fully aware of his actions, but you decide to say nothing, knowing that this is his way of expressing gratitude to your members. They kept you company and distracted you during the long months he was away, and he wants to show them just how much he appreciates their support.

His actions speak volumes about the depth of his affection for you and the genuine concern he has for those close to you. It only makes you fall even more deeply in love with him, knowing that he cherishes not only you but everyone who's dear to you. You watch with adoration as he effortlessly spreads happiness around, knowing that he has a heart as big as the universe, and that it belongs to you.

As you draw closer to him, he reaches out with a gentle touch, enveloping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. "Take good care of our leader, Sunbae-nim! We can't function without her," your members cheer playfully, referencing an inside joke that elicits laughter all around. You can't help but roll your eyes in mock annoyance, silently mouthing to Heeseung that you'll explain the joke to him later.

Amidst the laughter and banter, Yoon's voice rises above the rest, calling out with a grin, "We want her back by 10 a.m. tomorrow!" The playful demand earns a chorus of agreement, and you sigh defeatedly, not even bothering to refute. As they continue teasingly setting curfews and conditions, you can't help but be grateful for the bonds you share with your fellow members, who always manage to make even the most emotional moments light-hearted.

Tugging gently on Heeseung's hand, you signal that it's time to move on, and he follows your lead without hesitation. There's a warm glow in your chest as you walk hand in hand, knowing that your friends are just a step behind, supporting your newfound happiness.

As you walk side by side, Heeseung steals glances at you, his eyes a beautiful mix of amusement and curiosity. "Stop staring at me like that," you playfully chide while swinging your intertwined hands as you walk, noticing the glances that the passing staff is casting your way—not that it bothers you anyway.

Despite dating publicly for months, a lingering unease still gnaws at you when others watch you together. You worry about what they might think of Heeseung because of you, but talking to him has always helped ease your mind. Heeseung doesn’t know it, but his presence has a way of soothing your anxieties. You also don’t know how you quite literally wear your heart on your sleeves, and he was able to instantly sense your inner turmoil.

"Cut me some slack," he teases in response in an attempt to get your mind off of it. "Let me make up for all the times I didn't get to see you." His hand squeezes yours gently, and you try to maintain a stern expression, but a smile inevitably breaks free. Curse Lee Heeseung and his endless rizz.

"So, where are you taking me?" you inquire with a playful smile, intrigued by the mysterious plans Heeseung seems to have in store. He gracefully slides open the door of the black van for you, and you step inside, acknowledging his manager with a warm greeting.

"My room," Heeseung responds nonchalantly as if he didn’t just spout the most out-of-pocket thing ever, right in front of his manager. For a moment, you’re taken aback by his boldness, and your mind unwillingly brushes over the mere thought of being in an intimate setting with him.

His words hang in the air, and he quickly realises how suggestive he must have sounded. "I didn't mean it that way!" he clarifies in a rush, his cheeks tinged with a charming blush. "I just meant I wanted to spend some alone time with my girlfriend, maybe watch a cute movie or something." A delightful snort escapes your lips, unable to contain your amusement at his accidental innuendo. His manager, trying to maintain a composed exterior, can't help but suppress a chuckle, which only adds to Heeseung's endearing embarrassment.

"Smooth, Hee," you tease playfully, reaching out to squeeze his hand affectionately.

"I'd love to watch a cute movie with you, wherever it may be."

As the van begins to move, you find yourself getting lost in the enchantment of the moment. There's something captivating about being with him—the way his eyes gleam with sincerity and the way he makes your heart race with just a few words. Unbeknownst to Heeseung, it is now your turn to be utterly mesmerised by him. With a gapingly adoring stare, you drink in every detail of his face. The soft glow from the street lamps passing by casts an ethereal glow on his sharp features, accentuating them.

You marvel at how each line and curve of his face seems perfectly crafted, as if he were a work of art. His eyes, like sparkling stars in the night sky, hold a world of emotions that you can't help but get lost in. His smile, a gentle curve that warms your soul, is like a beacon of happiness. You want to capture this moment, etch it into your memory forever, and hold onto this feeling of bliss.

It didn’t take long for the van to come to a halt in front of the apartment complex, and his manager playfully ushers you out, shooting you both a teasing glance. It's been a while since you last set foot in ENHYPEN's dorm, the last time being when fate intervened with Heeseung accidentally posting that confession tweet that brought you together (thank God). Your time together is often spent in the sanctuary of HYBE's many recording rooms or your own dorm room. Being the gentleman he is, Heeseung insisted he was perfectly okay with being the one always going to you, making you feel like the most cherished person in the world.

As the door to the apartment swings open, sounds of laughter fill the air. The lively banter led by none other than Jake, passionately “coaching” Ni-ki on a game of League of Legends, "Go for the tower, not the minions, you idiot! Where is Heeseung? I literally cannot trust this kid with anything!"

Heeseung stifles a laugh, his cheeks flushing slightly in embarrassment. You can't help but find his reaction adorable, knowing that even as the responsible eldest, he can't escape the playful dynamics of the group. It's a side of him you treasure, seeing how he is able to freely embrace his inner child whenever he’s with his members.

He places a gentle hand on the small of your back as he guides you into the apartment. The rest of the members notice your arrival, and they all greet you warmly. It feels like coming home, being surrounded by the people who are not only important to Heeseung but who have also become dear to you.

Ignoring the chaos unfolding right outside his door, Heeseung and you settle into the cosy covers of his blanket, dressed in one of his many hoodies, ready to embark on a movie night. The room is softly lit, with the warm glow of LED lights creating an ambience of comfort. “So, which cute movie are we watching today?” You inquire, watching him scroll through the Disney+ catalogue on his laptop.

“Toy story?” He responds, his eyes filled with the excitement of watching his favourite animation for the nth time. You found this absolutely adorable; Lee Heeseung, who racked up a mysterious bad-boy reputation, is actually a softie at heart who can recite every single line of Toy Story by heart.

The familiar Pixar Animation intro plays on the screen, and you lean comfortably against the headboard of his twin-sized bed. The movie unfolds before you, but you can't help but steal glances at Heeseung every now and then. His eyes are fixated on the screen, but you can sense that his attention is divided between the plot and you.

To be frank, you weren’t really paying much attention to the movie itself and more so just enjoying the company. His presence alone is enough to make your heart skip a beat, and you feel a rush of warmth and affection every time your eyes meet when he excitedly looks over to you whenever a part of the movie he liked is coming up. You were already pretty exhausted at this point, but you still tried your best to reciprocate his energy.

Sensing the sleep threatening to wash over you, Heeseung wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head gently against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart—a soothing rhythm that complements the movie's soundtrack.

You feel Heeseung shifting beneath you, his warm touch reaching over to pause the movie that was about to reach its climactic moment. "You didn't have to pause it," you protest gently, not wanting to rob him of the enjoyment he seemed to find in the film. "Go on and finish it, I know you want to."

However, Heeseung's eyes are filled with fondness as he gazes at you, his affectionate smile melting your heart. "Princess, I wanted to spend this time with you," he murmurs tenderly, tucking a lose strand of hair behind your ears, his words wrapping around you like a soft embrace. "There's no point in watching it if it's not with you. If you want to sleep, I'll go to sleep with you." He pouts playfully, and before you can respond, he carefully adjusts your bodies so that you are now lying down fully on his bed, wrapped securely in his arms.

His fingers gently stroke your hair, the loving gesture as an attempt to lull you to sleep. Instead of making you drowsy, his touch sends a surge of excitement through your veins. You become hyper-aware of his every movement, your heart beating faster as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

In this intimate moment, time seems to stand still. The world outside his room fades away, leaving just the two of you entwined in your little cocoon. You're drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull he exudes.

As you lie there, wrapped in his embrace, you can't help but marvel at how effortlessly he understands you and how he always puts your needs before his own. Heeseung's love is a sanctuary—a place where you can be vulnerable and cherished, where you feel seen and loved for who you truly are.

With your head pressed firmly against his chest, you are able to hear clearly how his heart begins picking up pace.

“Why is your heart beating so fast?” Your trapped hands play with the fabric of his sweater, and you can feel him tiredly smile against your head.

“I have the most beautiful woman in my arms, I think any man in my position would feel the same.” You gush at his confession. Heeseung, once again, never fails to shower you with compliments, reminding you time and time again that he feels privileged that you chose to be with him. In this fleeting moment, you realise how deeply you've fallen for him, how your heart beats in sync with his, and how he's become the centre of your universe. The realisation fills you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, knowing that you've found something rare and precious.

Each passing moment feels like a dream, and as you drift off to sleep, cradled in his arms, you know that this is just the beginning. With Heeseung, every moment is an adventure, and every touch is a promise of something beautiful.

Lee Heeseung is and forever will be your number-one fan, just as you will be his.

prev | masterlist | next

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: anddd that’s a wrap! thank you for staying with heeyn till the very end 😭 no words can even begin to express how grateful i am for each and every one of your support. i started out this smau as a creative expression and ngl i did kind of lost the plot somewhere (didn’t know what i was doing half the time) but hey we bounced back! ig? fret not, there is still a bonus chapter coming out soon (fluff warning btw) and also mayyybe something else i’m planning 🫣🤫 until then, please do stay safe, happy, and continue loving enhypen! xoxo, thatfeelinwhenyou 🤍

taglist! @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @rshmra @aernx @heebrry @flower0930 @harperwasstaken1 @haechansbbg @renjunoya @heeheesang @spilled-coffee-cup @jwnghyuns @ocyeanicc @neozon3nha @pshchives @casualzo @captivq @suvgs @iea-tsand @yohanabanana @wonyoungsvirus @shinsou-rii @fluerz @enhaz1 @bbangiez @gothhyucks @l0tisflower @sxftiell @yunwonie @ddazed-lhs @samvagejkflxhrt @alexisalwayshigh @stopeatread @hajimelvr @heart4hees @gyuszie @clairecottenheart @jaylans-stuff @immortal-imagination @kxr0mi @sserafimez @thatoneembarrasingmoment @jiaant11 @beatr2x @mihrosie0209 @jhopesucker @salsateriyniki @r1kitti @coffeeew @s00buwu

[choicescommunityevents]

Thank you for joining our first Choices Picnic! It was a lovely event!

Here is how our picnic turned out:

10 fandom members contributed to

28 MCs, OCs, and LIs joining the event who brought

15 different types of food

10 different types of drinks

21 different types of desserts

15 different games/activities

[Event prompts and info] [Full list of community prompts, polls, and quizzes]

Who joined the picnic? [x]

@cadybear420

Aiden x Evie

@dr-colossal-pita

Ethan x Oliver

@gutsfics

Noah x Devi

Thomas x Avalon

@jerzwriter

Ethan x Kaycee

Tobias x Casey

@lovealexhunt / @theartoflovingthomashunt / @storyofmychoices

Bryce x Olivia

Keiki

Mal x Daenarya

Thomas x Alex

@masked-alien-lesbian

Aislinn x Verity

Hana x Raelyn

@peonyblossom

Ajay x Matty

Emmett x Brooklyn

Ethan x Sydney

Thomas x Jackie

@pulpitude

Mia

Lia

Joss

Linc

Abel

@trappedinfanfiction

Ethan x Celia

Trystan x Sophia

@tveitertotwrites

Derek x Charlie

Ethan x Claire

Thomas x Brooklyn

Tobias x Adelaide

What will we be eating + drinking? [x]

Food

Banana Chips with light maple syrup

Buttermilk Fruit Scones

Charcuterie Board (2)

Chips

Fresh Baked Bread

Fresh Vegetable Quinoa Salad

Gamja-Salad

Grilled Meat Skewers

Ketchup Chips

Korean Fried Chicken

Pasta Salad

Pizza

Pineapple

Sandwiches (2)

Strawberries

Trail Mix

Drinks

Alcoholic Drinks

Cabernet Sauvignon

Chocolate Milk

Coconut Custard Pie

Fruit Salad

Nanaimo Bars

Non-Alcoholic Drinks

Orange Infused Cold Brew

Sodas

Strawberry Lemonade

Sweet Cocktails

Sweet Iced Tea

Wine selection

What are we eating (desserts) [x]

Apple Pie

Berry Pinwheel Pasteries

Coconut Cake

Cookies

Fresh Fruit Popsicles

Fruit mixed in pudding, yogurt, whipped cream

Golden Griddle milkshakes

Haupia

Honey Cake

Lemon Cake

Mint Ice Cream Sandwiches

Pie

Pup Cups

Red Velvet Brownies

Red Velvet Cupcakes

Rum Cake

Strawberry Cheesecake Parfait

Weed Brownies

What are we playing/doing? [x]

Badminton

Capture the Flag

Charades

Drink Mixing

Enjoying flowers

Frisbee / Disk Golf

Frisbee with pups (2)

Horeshoes

Karaoke

Kite Flying

Lawn Chess

Nature Crafts / Flower Crowns

Paint and Sip

Toss + Catch

Volleyball

What's our picnic playlists? [X]

What 3 things are a picnic must? [X]

How will a little rain impact the event? [x]

How did MCs, OCs, and LIs document the event? [X]

What else was submitted?

I was going to make a masterlist, but since most entries were just reblogs to the community posts it seemed silly... especially since all the extra entries were mine 🙈. Felt weird making a masterlist for just me! If more individual works are added, I'll make a separate masterlist.

@lovealexhunt / @theartoflovingthomashunt / @storyofmychoices

Bryce x Olivia picnic (art)

Bryce x Olivia beach picnic (edit)

Mal x Daenarya beach picnic (edit)

A Late Night Picnic (Mal x Daenarya) (writing)

Thomas x Alex Hollywood sign picnic (edit)

@peonierose : Art on the Beach with Bryce x Luna

[friday-tea]

Zodiac as tea aesthetics 🛞🍵

Aries: Strong milk tea paired with late night spicy pan noodles from a neon-lit street cart beside a motorcycle

Taurus: London Fog in a favorite old mug with fresh cinnamon rolls, slipper socks and a good book on a rainy morning

Gemini: A bright citrus tea in a bustling sidewalk cafe with stimulating conversation and a lively view of wind-blown trees

Cancer: Sleepytime brew in Grandma’s china while doodling in a coloring book as a rom-com plays in the background

Leo: Sun tea over ice with fresh squeezed lemon, a glamorous hat, and movie star shades in a showy rose garden

Virgo: Insulated travel mug of jasmine green tea snugly in a plaid backpack beside a matching dayplanner and three favorite writing utensils

Libra: Darjeeling with lemon at formal afternoon tea with flowers, big hats, and a balanced tray of elegant sweets and savories

Scorpio: The weird stuff. The dankest, funkiest, most nuanced cave aged dark tea brewed strong in a classic Chinese purple clay pot

Sagittarius: Teh Tarik, pulled to frothy perfection with a bold spice presence at a roadside stand in the middle of nowhere

Capricorn: Ceremonial matcha with a simple wagashi, not too sweet, on a clean, sturdy walnut desk with a laptop on temporary sleep mode

Aquarius: Yerba mate laced with psilocybin in the classic gourd, barefoot in a yurt on a weekend meditation retreat

Pisces: Blue butterfly peaflower lemonade on a porch swing looking over a blooming dahlia garden with a watercolor pad perched on idly kicking legs

[purefandomonium]

It's The Thought That Counts-Chapter 1

***Monday Night***

Vince had said his favorite food was lemons. Not lemon meringue pie or lemonade or lemon cake. Just... raw lemons. Rody was no chef—hell, he couldn't boil water without starting a fire. He was unfit and unqualified to be telling someone such as Vincent Charbonneau how to eat. The man obviously ate well enough to stay alive, so Rody really shouldn't have felt so obligated to stick his nose into Vince's lifestyle choices.

As he removes the fourth failed baking attempt from the oven, all smoldering char and dust, Rody starts seriously contemplating his. He lets out a tired groan as he sets the ruined baking sheet aside to let it cool so he can dump the contents into the trash with all the rest. Maybe he should just save up and buy something from a local bakery. 

The thought is dispelled immediately. The whole point would be lost if he just went out and bought the chef dessert. No. He needs to make it himself. He has to surprise Vince with something special. He wants to show the chef his appreciation with a homecooked meal. It's the least he can do, after being given the job and fancy leftovers at the end of each shift. Even if they were a bit on the bitter side. So he flips back to the start of the recipe and gathers up the necessary ingredients once more.

***Wednesday***

Rody can barely hide his irritation anymore. It's not terribly obvious to the customers, but by the end of the day any pretense of friendliness has been drained from him and he's been a tad snippy to the cooks and even Vince himself on occasion. He's stayed up late every night trying to get the hang of this whole baking thing. Cooking isn't worth it; he tried it after screwing up countless baking attempts and after two close calls with a pan fire he decided it would be best not to work with open flame. 

He wants to tear his own hair out. He's bought a bunch of cook books and supplies, learned how to use a mixer, and has put so much time and effort into this and he still can't get it right. The lack of sleep and immense frustration is really starting to catch up to him. Maybe he can pry Vince for alternative recipe ideas and try those. They might be easier than baking lemon-flavored dishes. Or maybe he should just buy a basket of lemons and slap a bow and a 'thank you' note on it.

Ugh. No, he can't do that either. He's already spent the money on the kitchen utensils and books, he might as well make the most of them. He just needs more practice, more time to get this right.

***Friday Afternoon***

Vince still can't bring himself to question Rody about his strange behavior as of late. Whatever has the waiter so high strung, it's clear he's taking it to the grave. The most he can be bothered to do is shrug and remind him he should be working when the questions become a bit too personal. So long as it doesn't affect his ability to do his job, Rody can stress about it all he wants. Even if Vince feels a little uncomfortable seeing the youthful man so restless and tired.

Locked in his office, the chef hums as he goes over this month's budget. He hates this, really he should just hire an accountant. If it weren't for his stubbornness, he'd have found one already. However, he's nothing if not meticulous, which is why the moment he sees something odd with inventory he's lighting a cigarette and cursing.

***After Closing***

"Lamoree."

Rody yelps and spins around to see his boss standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and frown looking a little deeper than usual. Unease bubbles up. "Uh, yeah?"

His voice is firm. "I need to speak with you about something."

Painfully aware of the time and bummed he can't head straight home after a long day, Rody nods and follows the chef. He's quick to realize they're the only two left in the restaurant; all of the cooks must've rushed out as soon as the last customer of the day paid. He can't blame them, both he and Vince were especially short-tempered today. If his stiff strides are anything to go by, whatever's got him so irritated is still present.

"Um... What did you wanna talk about?" Rody says as they stop at the prep counter. Several papers are laid out atop it. There are a lot of numbers and hard to read scribbles that must be Vince's writing. If this is supposed to mean something to him, Rody doesn't get it.

Vince takes note of the blank look Rody gives the papers. Uncrossing his arms, he points to one. "This is the budget for this month. I was going over it and the estimated inventory costs when I noticed something."

"...Ok?"

"It seems we've been going through certain ingredients faster than anticipated."

"Well, it has been pretty busy lately." What is he getting at? Does he expect him to help budget? Rody glances at Vince and decides that, no, that is not the face of someone looking to give a promotion.

Vince pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to sigh too loudly. "None of the dishes this week have featured lemons, copious amounts of sugar or," he checks one of the papers, "almonds. Those are for next week's menu. As you know, we make everything fresh here. There's also quite a bit of flour missing. More than expected. It seems someone has been 'borrowing' ingredients..."

Rody hopes the heat in his face doesn't turn his cheeks too red. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Vince's intense glare, he stammers, "O-oh... Funny that... M-maybe it went bad and one of the cooks... threw it out and ordered more?"

"Lamoree..."

"Or-or maybe it was rats! Yeah... We should, uh, call an exterminator."

Vince has to resist the urge to slap the idiot. The annoyance makes him momentarily choke on his words. "Y... You're not seriously going to stand there and suggest that my restaurant is full of rats and old food."

Oh... Shit. There's no way he's going to come out of this unscathed and still employed. The words begin pouring out before he can make them coherent.

Vince brings up a hand to silence Rody's panicked backpedaling. "Since it isn't obvious enough, I'm asking you about this because one of the cooks saw you shuffle off with eight pounds of lemons this past Monday. I noticed the weird discrepancy with the supplies and costs and asked around." Nevermind how in the hell he'd managed to ride his bike all the way home like that, or how or when he smuggled everything else out. It would've been more impressive if Vince weren't so annoyed at the blatant theft. Does the fool have no shame?

"I can explain!" Rody blurts out.

"I'm listening." He leans back on an adjacent counter and waits for the explanation he's sure will get the idiot fired.

Rody's face feels like the sun. "Ah... Well, it's kind of stupid now that I think..."

"Keep in mind your job is riding on this," Vince supplies, lighting the proverbial fire beneath him. He's almost amused at the way Rody sputters and trips over his own words. Almost. The faint smile vanishes in an instant.

Rody sucks in a deep breath, halts his wild thoughts, and says, "It was for a surprise for you." It's hardly above a whisper. When Vince lifts a brow and leans in with an ear turned to him, Rody curses the universe at having to repeat himself. He forces his voice to be a little louder this time. "I was trying to make something for you. Like you always do for me?" His ears are burning now. He has half a mind to drown himself in the nearby sink.

Vince blinks. Once. Twice. "I... beg your pardon?" Rody wanted to prepare something for him? He can't even remember the last time someone wished him a happy birthday, let alone made something for him. Not that he cares; no, it's just...  The fact that Rody would go through all the trouble. Still...

The awkward squeal he lets out isn't much of a reply, but the poor waiter can hardly save his words from the embarrassment. "Do I really need to say it again?" he manages, hugging his arms tightly across his chest. "I just... thought that I could return the favor. I know you're a chef and all and you don't need me to cook for you and you probably do just fine on your own and-"

"But why lemons?" The look Rody gives him make his chest feel funny.

"...You said they were your favorite."

Oh.

Oh...

OH.

That... well, it did make more sense but... Ok, it was still stealing. He should... He should... Well he should definitely not be feeling...

Why does Rody have to look at him like that?

Fuck.

Cursing, Vince throws a hand over his face at the ridiculousness of it all. He hates the way hope blossoms in his chest. "Let me get this straight," he begins, the appendage still covering his features. "You stole ingredients from the kitchen to take home, all so you could cook something for me?"

"...Yes?"

"Lamoree..." The sigh isn't angry or indignant, only mildly disappointed. Like a parent annoyed their child jumped into the mud because they thought it would be a fun idea. Somewhere beneath that, however, is a small twinge of endearment.

"I'm sorry! Please don't fire me! I promise I'll stop. It was stupid anyway, I can't cook to save my life."

Vince removes his hand to meet Rody's nervous gaze. "What did you try making?"

"I-huh?"

"Forgive me for being curious as to what one could do with eight entire pounds of lemons in the span of a single week."

"Well, burn them mostly..." Rody rubs his arm as he recalls the many molten piles of former food he's pulled out of his oven these past several days.

Vince shakes his head. "You really are something."

"Man, cooking is hard! And baking too! You have to mix everything a certain way or it just ends up gross. Not to mention lemon pies. So many steps to make sure it turns out right..."

A small chuckle comes from the chef as he shakes his head again. "It usually helps to follow the steps, you know." Knowing Rody, he likely skipped a few key parts of the process due to his impatience. 'What's the harm?' he probably thought.

"Ugh... Well you don't have to worry about me stealing anymore ingredients," Rody says with a small groan.

"No. It seems not."

The two stand across from each other, one with an unreadable expression and the other slowly growing worried.

"Wait... Are you gonna...?"

Vince thinks about it, sighs, and pushes himself off the counter. "I'm not going to fire you, Rody," he says to the other man's wide-eyed terror. "I think whatever state you left your apartment in is punishment enough."

It did smell like burnt lemons and sugar in there. He's pretty sure it's seeped into some of his clothes by now.

"However... I do have one condition in exchange for your employment." He lets himself smirk at the waiter's bewilderment.

"...What's that?" Rody questions the sudden look of mischief.

"I'd like to see something by Tuesday next week." His smirk turns into a rare smile at Rody's shocked expression.

"I... I mean, I can try?" Vince... isn't mad at him? Looking back, eight pounds of lemons, a large bag of almonds and several bags of sugar and flour smuggled out of the restaurant probably is a lot of money. And yet, Vince isn't just letting him stay; he also wants Rody to bring something in for him?"

"I think it's the least you can do after you raided the supplies, no?"

"You're not gonna be upset if it's terrible?" While he hasn't made a successful batch of anything as of yet, he can at least say he's gotten better with his failed attempts. Tuesday is a bit of a stretch but maybe he can pull a rabbit out of the hat.

Vince shakes his head. "Just... don't steal anymore ingredients, got it?'

"Yes sir!" He turns to leave.

"Lamoree?" He waits for the waiter to face him once more. "Perhaps try cookies this time. I think you'll find they're much simpler than a pie, especially with your inexperience in the kitchen." He watches Rody nod before exiting through the back door. His mind drifts back to the lemons and he imagines the young fool pedaling down the street, bicycle swaying awkwardly as he tries to keep his balance. Vince supposes he is fit enough to manage.

...The idiot.

***Tuesday Morning***

"Hey, Vince?"

Vince jumps at the sudden call, dropping the chair with a thud. He lets out an annoyed grunt in response and goes to pick it up before positioning it at the table. He'd been too lost in his thoughts to hear the door. "You're awfully early today," he says as he turns to face the waiter. He quirks a brow and glances at the small aluminum tray he's holding.

Rody chuckles uncomfortably and lifts the tray. "You wanted me to bring something, remember?" He tries to settle the shakiness in his arms so the contents stop rattling. "They're lemon cookies. You were right; it was a way easier recipe to follow once I found one." He swallows the lump in his throat as Vince approaches. "They're not the best," he blurts as a hand reaches for the foil covering them. "They're still a little burnt. And I didn't really know how much lemon you liked but I added more than the recipe called for so you could maybe taste it more."

Silencing the rest of his nervous rambling, Vincent lifts the foil off and inspects the cookies. A dozen of them are stacked neatly in the tray. On the top they look completely fine. As he picks one up, however, the bottom is an almost-black that suggests too dark a baking sheet and far too much time in the oven. Still, the consistency is fine and as he takes a bite there's the faintest tingle on his tongue. He can't tell what it tastes like but knows it's lemon because that's the only thing that's ever given him the sensation. Burnt bottom aside, the cookie is chewy and somehow the perfect level of moisture.

To think, the young waiter did all this for him.

If Rody has to stand here and wait for Vincent's thoughts a second longer, he thinks he might explode. Watching him swallow the final bite, he speaks. "Well? How is it?"

For the first time in a long while, Vince smiles warmly. "It's good, Lamoree. A little burnt, but you did very well otherwise. I'm impressed. You did this all by yourself?" Something like happiness fills his chest.

He stands a little taller at the praise. "Yeah! I bought some cookbooks and just kept trying different things. I went through a lot of failed attempts though." And a couple ruined baking sheets.

"That's to be expected. Nobody learns anything overnight and practice makes perfect." The smile doesn't fade as he grabs another treat. This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him.

"So?" A confused hum is his answer. "The cookies, can you taste them?" He highly doubts that his miserable baking is enough to spark Vince's long-dead tastebuds, but part of him hopes it's true. He's never seen the chef actually smile before and his heart buzzes at the fact that he was the cause.

Ah, right. The entire reason to all of this. Vince's good mood deflates a bit as he contemplates how to break the news to Rody. The waiter is just so proud of himself that he feels bad about having to crush his joy. He takes his time finishing the rest of the cookie. "...Actually..." He buys himself a couple more seconds as he swallows the last bite. "I almost can. It's not entirely there but... I can discern there's something compared to the nothingness I usually get." Perhaps he doesn't need to be fully honest. As Rody's face lights up with glee, he can feel his own face grow warm.

"Really?! You mean it?"

"Yes, Rody, it seems not all hope is lost on your baking skills." A startled grunt escapes him as Rody hugs him tightly. He'd been so quick to set the tray aside and close what little distance there was that Vince had no time to react. By the time his brain catches up to what's happening, the waiter's already releasing him and gushing with excitement.

"I'm so happy you like them! I'm gonna keep practicing until I make something perfect! I'll bring in all my good attempts and maybe you can even put one on the menu!" He pauses as his brain processes what he just said. "I mean... If that's ok? I'll be buying my own ingredients, of course." He hopes he didn't upset the chef again. The look he's giving him is... indescribable.

Vince spends several seconds staring at Rody before realizing he has to respond. The gears churn as he formulates his reply. "I'd be fine with that," is the best he can come up with. Rody seems to take it fine, if a little more subdued than before. Still, he wants to see the excitement decorating his features once more. Even if it's for a moment.

Rody says nothing as Vince picks up the tray of cookies, letting him walk away. He's glad he likes them.

"I'll tell you what, Rody," Vince says as he carries the tray to his office. "If you keep practicing in the kitchen, I'll let you take a few ingredients here and there." For half a second, he debates teaching the newbie baker/cook himself. The thought of working alongside him, helping him, is alluring. But he's not so foolish as to think it would work out. 

He's thankful his back is turned so that the blush remains hidden. It seems Rody isn't the only idiot present today.

"Seriously?" To say he's stunned would be an understatement. He can't believe Vince is being so generous about it, and all because of some cookies? He can't help but wonder if there isn't more to it, but the thought is easily dismissed. Surely, Vince isn't... doesn't...

Nah. He's just happy to have something he can taste for once.

"If you've got time to stand there like a lost puppy then you have time to help get things ready," Vince says to the statue that is the waiter.

Rody snaps out of his thoughts and it's only now that he realizes they're the only two in the restaurant. They had another ten minutes before the cooks shuffled in and another thirty before opening. He should take the time to help get things in order and plan out the seating arrangements, should they get hit with more big parties like the last couple of days. The garbage probably needed to go out too; he'd forgotten last shift.

***

Vince spends most of the day in his office, no doubt gorging on cookies, while Rody spends his time between customers deciding what he should bake next.

Despite the not insignificant amount of ingredients missing, Vincent is quite happy Rody went through the trouble. If it were anyone else, he'd have half a mind to pin them to the wall with knives. But Rody isn't just anybody and the gesture is as sweet as he's sure the cookies are.

He can't wait to see what else his waiter brings.

[thenationaltreasuregazette]

Why so Many F*cking Lemons??

National Treasure is the kind of film that presents many mysteries and asks its viewers the hard questions. Questions like:

What if there was a treasure map on the back of the Declaration of Independence?

What if American history was a cool connected puzzle?

What there was a big ol' treasure?

But most importantly it asks us to consider:

4. Why does Patrick Gates have a whole fridge full of lemons???

Now the most obvious answer here is because the plot demands it. Ben and co need to cover the whole back of the Declaration in lemon juice, (although do they?) so they have to have enough lemons on hand.

The second most obvious reason is because the cinematography demands it. I mean this shot looks a lot better than, like, a single lemon. (Probably the same reason for Dakota Johnson's bowl of limes. It looks better.)

But neither of those answers are very fun, so let's dig deeper.

What is the plausible, in-story reason why Patrick Gates has a bowl of lemons?

Theory 1: Patrick Gates is a connoisseur of homemade lemonade

According to this hypothesis, Patrick loves homemade lemonade so much that he makes it for himself on the semi-regular. Yes, it's like October, but why should that stop him.

Does this check out?

When we meet him, Patrick is hanging out alone in his bathrobe late on a Friday night, having had pizza for dinner and something from a soda fountain to drink. That doesn't strike me as a foodie who wouldn't just buy lemonade if he wanted some.

Theory 2: Lemon Fish

In this version, Patrick is about to grill some fish. There's a way to do it (which is really tasty, and doesn't require a grill pan or rack) where you place bunch of slices of lemon directly on the grill grates and grill the fish on top of them. The fish doesn't stick and it imparts a delicious citrus flavor.

But again, we run into the same plausibility issues:

it's autumn

the Patrick Gates we meet here doesn't seem dedicated enough to the food he eats to do through the somewhat tedious process of grilling fish, especially not in not-summer

Theory 3: Cards with the Boys

What if Patrick is part of a weekly rotating card game? It's maybe a few masons he knows from his treasure hunting days and some of the guys from the insurance company (I don't know what I think that Patrick sells insurance, but I guess that's the most 'square' job I could come up with).

They rotate houses every week or month, and it's soon to be Patrick's turn to host. The drink of choice amongst the group is whisky sours, tom collins's or another straightforward drink that requires lemon juice.

This at least I think is more plausible with what we see of Patrick's lifestyle than an explanation with a more foodie-type bent. With Ben and his ex-wife both out of his life, Patrick must be a pretty lonely guy. I like the idea of him having a circle of friends.

Theory 4: Health Benefits

And here I think we have the most plausible answer: that Patrick might be interested in the health benefits associated with lemons and drinking lemon water.

Different compounds in lemons can have benefits regarding

lowering cholesterol

managing blood sugar

kidney health

and more, but those are the ones I suspect Patrick might be interested in. He's of a certain age, lives alone, and (unless we caught him on an off night) might not take the best care of himself as far as his diet. Perhaps he's been found to have high cholesterol, is pre-diabetic or has other blood sugar concerns, or has the decreased kidney function that can be associated with aging.

Perhaps he's had kidney stones or another health issue or scare in recent years and is attempting to take better care of himself.

Maybe that soda fountain cup is full of lemon water.

Conclusion

While all of these are plausible to various degrees, I find myself more interested in the last two. Patrick as an aging man without any family (or at least not any family who still speaks to him), living alone and becoming concerned with his health is heartbreaking, but I think adds a certain softness to the character, and extra layer to him and to his reconciliation with Ben.

And in any case, I also like the idea that he hasn't been completely alone since his falling out with Ben. While Patrick does behave in a way that suggests a fairly traditional 'breadwinner,' family man masculinity, we at the National Treasure Gazette will always stan platonic relationships and social supports. I'd like to believe that Patrick has his own squad of friends he can rely on.

I don't think I've ever thought about Patrick Gates this much, but now that I have, I find myself kind of wanting to give him a hug? He may not be the easiest character to love, but he has his own struggles.

What about you?

What are your theories regarding the lemon bowl?

I'd love to hear in a reblog, reply, tag, etc!

[bonkers-4-hatter]

@sacredwarrior88 asked: To celebrate my birthday today, may I please request headcanons for Hotch, Derek, and Spencer having a female S/O who owns a bar that’s famous for selling special drinks based off certain characters like this?

Of course!!!! I know I already told you, but Happy Birthday! I hope you had a great one!!! I hope you enjoy the headcannons hun!! <3 <3 <3 You're amazing! :)

--

Headcannons with !Female S/O that make drinks around their personalities:

Hotch (The Black Manhattan):

You were closing up the bar for the night, you decided to close early since Aaron said he was leaving work early.

He recently closed an intense case and you were glad he was listening to your advice of taking a break before jumping into more work.

The front door of the bar opened and Aaron walked through locking the door back up and made his way toward you.

You noticed his feet dragged a little bit making you worry.

"Hey there handsome, sit down I got the thing you need."

He smiled softly at you and sat at a barstool.

You started to pull out ingridients and glasses. You saw the perplexed look on his face.

"I know that look Aaron, we can talk about it at home, for now let me make you a drink, something new I thought of. You'll like it."

You can see his eyes analyzing the ingridients in front of him. "Coming up with a profile for the drink I'm making?"

He gave a short laugh. "Something like that Y/N."

I grabbed a glass and filled it with ice, adding Rye, Amaro, Aromatic Bitter, Orange Bitters and stirred. Aaron had a relaxed look on his face as he watched me work.

Straining the liquid in a double old fashioned glass, I garnished it with an orange peel on top and slid it out to him on the bar top.

"One Black Manhattan on the house"

Aaron thanked me and took a drink.

"It's an elegant drink that has a bittersweet taste, but the aftermath leaves your mouth sweet and wanting more...kinda like you Aaron."

He laughed finishing the drink. "It was a great drink Y/N, can I give you a tip?"

"Sure?" I wasn't sure where he was going until he leaned over the bar top and kissed me.

Spencer (Lemon Lime & Bitters):

It was late, about 3:00 AM and you were cleaning up from a busy Saturday night. You let your two employees go as your boyfriend Spencer said he was coming to help you close up.

A soft knock on the front entrance made you look up.

Spencer was there with a smile on his face waving. I went and let him in giving him a hug as I closed and locked the door.

"Thank you for helping Spence! You're the best!"

"Of course Y/N, I'm sure you're exhausted after tonight. I wanted to make sure you got home safe and I didn't want you alone here."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, leading him to the bar.

"Take a seat, I'll whip up a drink for you, and yes, it'll be 99% non-alcoholic, I promise."

Spencer smiled happy you remembered he was taking new medication and couldn't really drink.

"This drink reminds me of you, but since you love your puzzles, I'll let you try to figure it out as I make it."

He smiled as I started to gather my ingridients. I saw his eyes glancing at the labels and I could practically see the gears turning in his cute little head.

I fill a glass to the top with ice, chopped a lime in half and squeezed the juice of half of it into the glass. Then, I filled the glass with lemonade then topped it off with five drops of Angostura Bitters before stirring and adding a slice of lemon and lime.

Sliding the drink over to Spencer, I gave him a warm smile. "Here we go, one Lemon Lime and Bitters on the house for one cute special agent."

I saw his cheeks flush. "Thank you Y/N." I watched as he took a drink as he let our a sigh.

"It's really refreshing and kind of sweet with the lemonade."

"It reminds me of you Spence. Someone who's refreshing, sweet and pretty to look at."

I laughed as his face turned beet red.

Derek (Cuban Old Fashioned):

It was winding down at your bar as a familiar face walked in. It was none other than Derek himself with a swagger in his step as usual.

"Hey babygirl!" His voice was loud and proud as the few stragglers looked up at him as I waved back a goofy smile on my face.

I ran around the bar and hugged him, as he hugged me back. "Alright, you guys gotta go, my girl needs to close up."

The few stragglers who were intimidated by him followed his instructions as they slugged off thorugh the front door which I closed and locked up.

Turning to Derek, I put my hand up to my forehead and 'swooned'. "Oh, my hero." He laughed at my dramatic display before cleaning up the tables the stragglers were at and flipped the chairs upside down so the cleaning crew could sweep.

I was finishing some things behind the bar as he slipped into one of the barstools, his eyes following me as I cleaned.

"Ya know, it's rude to stare at a bartender when shes not making you a drink." He laughed and looked me up and down. "Then how about makin' me a drink babygirl?"

I roll my eyes but get some ingridients out. "One mystery cocktail coming up...wanna take a guess at what I'm making mr. profiler?"

I take a cocktail shaker out and add bourbon, simple syrup, fresh lime juice and Angostura bitters. Filling it with ice, I pop the top on and shake it all vigorously.

I did a few tricks with the cocktail shaker, flipping it, shaking it behind my back, all the pretty things to get you extra tips.

Grabbing a chilled coupe glass, I strain the mixture into the glass and top it with some Prosecco and garnished it with fresh mint leaves. Sliding the drink over to Derek, I blew him a kiss.

"Here you handsome, one Cuban Old Fashioned. Wanna take a sip and see why I think this drink is you?" He grinned and took a sip as he let the flavor linger like I taught him to do. He had a puzzled look on his face. "Okay, I give, tell me what this is me Y/N."

"Well, it has a complex flavor mixture that makes you taste something different each time, but underneath it all, it has a sweetness that's addicting and once you have a taste, you're always coming back for more."

Derek downed the rest of the drink and bit his lip looking at you from across the bartop. "Better hurry and close up babygirl, becuase I'm about to show you something else that comes back for more...and more...and more."

You've never closed up the bar faster in your life after those words were said.