#Like the pacing at times was awkward and clunky to me but I don’t care about lestat being ooc personally

[shivcodedkendall]

me to myself the last 24 hrs bc I keep going back and forth on my feelings for ep 5

[sacredtime]

Dancing!

I don’t know much about freelancers boys personalities or the daemons so they’ll probably be out of character. This also includes William bc why not. Also these all take place at some sort of event formal or not

William doesn’t dance much anymore, but if you were ever lucky enough to have him dance with you or were to dance with him in his prime he’d do something like a ballroom dance, very elegant and make you feel like royalty even if you have no idea how to dance. It would probably feel like out of a fairytale and a once in a lifetime thing because it would be.

David is very clunky and stiff in his movements. I think he’d know the basics of a waltz or something like that but it doesn’t flow he just wants to leave the dance floor. I think he’d mentally implode from the unintentional PDA from holding Angel so close in a very public area with a lot of eyes on him watching his every move. Bonus if Angel tries to do things while dancing with him to get him flustered

Depending on how you see Angel as a dancer they’re either a. Goofing off and dancing without a care b. Clunky and stiff as David or c. Being extremely good at dancing and basically dragging David around as he tries to keep up, he’s embarrassed but they love it.

Sam in my head 100% knows how to line dance and square dance and all that shit I won’t take criticism. He was taught one or two formal dances but he’s not that great and will occasionally mess up but he’s trying just give him some more time to practice.

Darling, like David isn’t much of a dancer especially if it’s in a place they can’t trust and relax in-mostly due to the Quinn situation and reentering the pack with strained tensions-but when they DO start to relax and feel comfortable their go to is a relaxed style, just sway side to side maybe bob their head a little. Once they get comfortable it’s up to you on how you want their dance skills to be, personally when everything starts going they’re a very care free dancer but outside of that their skills are very small.

Asher Would be very carefree in his dancing, even in a formal setting it’s very light hearted and fun. Who cares if he or babe missed a step or the pacing’s off he’s happy dancing them around the floor, goofiest smile ever. To both him and babe everyone around them doesn’t exist. It’s just the two of them in that moment…or at least until they end up accidentally bumping into someone else mid dance. Also dancing around the house is a common thing.

Babe is also up for interpretation on what you think of their dance skills but no matter what good or bad they’d mesh well with Asher even if it’s a bit awkward to outsiders.

Milo is very ordinary in his move set imo. He can make his way around a dance floor just fine but don’t expect anything special, although another part of me wants to say he can break dance pretty well which when combined with sweethearts powers leads to some funny outcomes

Sweetheart is up for debate like all other listeners but I think they wouldn’t be a good dancer, I don’t think any missions they would’ve been on would include dancing and if it ever came to it they’d cloak and leave for a bit or just leave l entirely

Vincent was a notorious playboy along with flirting he has to have had some wicked moves on the dance floor. How good he is in any other setting that isn’t a club varies but I feel like he could adapt to the atmosphere. But for comedy’s sake it be hilarious if he couldn’t. He could talk a big game but the minute someone invited him to the dance floor it was disastrous

Lovely in my head I think they’re a good dancer and before their turning once they got used to their powers they’d incorporate it into their dancing but again this is how you see them. Once they turn it takes awhile before they start dancing again and get used to it now a vampire

Freelancer dominates the dance floor. If it’s a empowered event (and they’re allowed to do this) they’re definitely showing off their skills to make it more flashy. Unempowered? No problem they still got dance skills to spare match them up with some of the boys they become a unstoppable force on the floor

Kody gets escorted out and banned. He doesn’t get a chance to dance. If he did it would be painful for his partner. Forcing them around, grip way too tight, they try to leave his grip tightens even more as he drags them around so they can stay in his trap

Huxley is a riot. He’s not the best at formal events and makes his fair share of mistakes (Damien tries to teach him and is exasperated watching him) but you put him in a casual party setting I feel like he would be the life of the party unintentionally. His good vibes are contagious to everyone.

Damien would be very stiff at first before getting into the dance. He’s not one for really loosening up in events but you’d be damned if he didn’t make a good impression

Lasko the poor man is a total wallflower. His anxiety gets the better of him and no one knows it he can really dance or not because he nearly has a panic attack stepping anywhere near the dance floor with the thought of all eyes on him and someone. As he starts to gain more confidence he gets better and I think he’d be actually a decent dancer.

This was long, there are still more people to do. I’ll do a part 2 next because there’s so many characters…

[fruitcoops]

LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game

Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles

“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.

“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.

“It’s all I have!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”

“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”

Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”

“Fair point.”

With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”

“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”

“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”

He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.

“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”

Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”

“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.

“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”

“Nah.”

He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.

“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.

He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”

A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

“Will this be enough?"

“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”

Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”

“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”

“Rodeo.”

“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”

His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Bastard.”

The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can.”

“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”

“Not god, just me.”

He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”

“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”

“Someone’s gonna hear.”

“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”

“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.

The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.

“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”

“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.

“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.

“Not as close as you.”

His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”

Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”

“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.

“Come.”

“I c—”

“Now.”

Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.

Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.

“We’ve got time to spare.”

“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”

“Sup, Mad-Eye?”

Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.

“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.

Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”

“Get up!”

“I can’t!”

James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.

The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.

Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.

James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.

“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”

Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.

“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”

Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.

James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.

Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.

“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”

Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.

“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”

The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.

“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”

“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”

“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”

“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”

[barbarianprncess]

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” and “Nobody’s seen you in days.” that would be inchresting 👀👀

for mari my beloved, 

(aka @chironshorseass ) 

as you know this sort of got away from me. one second i was writing a drabble of angst, the next I'm on the 16th page with no end in sight. so this maybe isn’t what you were expecting but have 5k of post-botl/pre-tlo pining idiot besties who are in love :). 

(also this hasn’t been beta’d and i'm welcome to volunteers i just finished and got so excited i had to post.)

(dear one anon who asked for 'forget it you're a fucking asshole' too, if you're reading this, don't worry yours is coming too i promise)

(final s/o to @posallys for letting me scream about them)

24 hours

read on ao3

enjoy <3

                                                      ...

Percy is fucking exhasted.

He was supposed to be back at camp four days ago. The deal was he’d spend weekdays at camp to plan and train and weekends at home to relax. But, he kept putting it off, opting to keep the weight on his chest that’d been pushing him down since last summer bearable, and not crushing the way it always was at camp. So, when he gets through the barrier, aside from nodding hello to Beckendorph and Silena, he makes a beeline to his cabin. He manages to keep his eyes down until he’s standing at his porch steps- and that when he sees her.

Annabeth is pacing on his balcony. She’s wearing jean shorts and her camp shirt, but instead of her typical ponytail her hair is in two intricate braids that reach her breastbone. She’s muttering to herself and wringing her hands together and for a moment Percy forgets. He forgets the past year and all the arguing and the bitterness and he sees Annabeth is worried about something and he reaches out as if to hold her. To wrap his arms around her and tell her that everything is going to be alright.  

But then he remembers.

He retracts his hands.

He clears his throat and Annabeth startles. Her grey eyes are as intense as ever and he can almost see her defences come up. He hates that it's because of him. Annabeth is the first to break the silence.

“Hey.” Her voice is small but clear. Not yet vulnerable, but gives Percy the sense that it could be soon.

“What’re you doing here?” He isn’t sure he said it out loud until she ducks her head and flushes.

“Nobody’s seen you in days.” It’s not the accusation he expects. It's also not an answer to his question. Just an observation.

“I’m here now.” He says it like it’s an invitation. He then becomes incredibly aware that he's still looking up at her from the bottom of the steps, so he grabs his duffel, bounds up the stairs, and opens his cabin door. He hesitates and meets her eye with another silent question. She answers by stepping inside.

He drops his bag by his bed and turns on the light. The air is charged with unasked questions and unfinished conversations. He can’t stand it. He’s about to attempt small talk when she says something that nearly knocks down where he stands.

“I miss you.” She’s wringing her hands again and she won’t look him in the eye, but takes his silence as confusion.

“That’s what I came here to say, that I miss you.”

Percy isn’t sure what to say. Percy isn’t sure this conversation is really happening, she’s broken so many of the fragile rules they’d been following all year. He’s 98% sure this is a really vivid daydream to cope with…. well everything.

He decides that on the off chance this is real he should play it safe so, he states the obvious.

“I’m here. We’re here, together. We’re together and-” She cuts him off and begins to ramble.

“Strained and awkward and it's like there’s this chasm between us of all these things from last summer. From our kiss, to you dying, and then you not dying, and Rachel, and Luke, and Luke being Not-Luke, and it’s like we can’t have a conversation anymore and that sucks ‘cause..”

She pauses for the first time to look up at him and her eyes are shining.

“You’re kinda my best friend. And I miss you. Everything sucks and I'm tired of fighting. And I really miss you.”

Percy’s too shocked to say anything. It occurs to him that he should respond but he can’t find the words. All the unspoken rules they had in place and Annabeth had just steamrolled right through them. Percy realizes his mistake in staying silent as Annabeth flushes and turns to leave.

“Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” And oh no Annabeth had just swallowed her pride (which he knows better than anyone is no easy feat) to say everything he’d wanted to hear and he can’t let her walk away.

“I miss you too.” The words tumble out of him, clunky and a little awkward but earnest. Annabeth stops and faces him, eyes suspicious in the way that breaks his heart a little bit.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

Annabeth exhales and shoots him a tremulous smile he hasn’t seen in forever, and oh he’d forgotten what it did to his chest when she did. Before he does something stupid like tell her he thinks her smile is the best this he’s ever seen, he clears his throat.

“So…. this chasm you said, what do you propose we do about it?”

“24 hours. For 24 hours everything that I listed before is a non-issue. After that we can go back to…..whatever it is we’re doing now. One day, where we’re just two friends spending a day at camp together..”

“Best friends.” He corrects without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and he almost giggles because he’d missed her eyerolls too.

She holds out her hand to shake, all business-like and gods he missed her.

“Best friends. 24 hours.”

He takes her hand. Her shake is firm, her palms are warm, her eyes are bright, and she is beautiful.

“Where do we start?”

...

Apparently it starts with homework.

After he asked where they’d begin, Annabeth had flashed him a wicked grin, damn-near dragged him off the porch, and made a beeline to the Big House. Before last summer, Annabeth had been “tutoring” him. Once a week they’d head down to the Big House and spend hours combing through myths and legends, practicing Ancient Greek, and all things Demigod 101. It probably wasn’t ever that useful considering Percy barely remembered any of it, but Annabeth had always insisted. After last summer they’d non-verbally decided to take a break from it (eachother), and they’d never started back up.

Usually he’d halfheartedly complain that it was pointless and say some form of ‘I know enough to not die and that's good enough for me’ every five minutes, but today he nods dutifully along as Annabeth talks animatedly about Orpheus, and Theseus, and all the other -eus’s. He’ll ask a dumb question that they both know he knows the answer to, but she answers him anyway. He watches the wisps of hair that refused to be tied down, and counts the tiny sunspots across her nose and the way she wrinkles her eyebrow when she forgets a name.

It’s not terrible. It’s kinda the opposite. He’d forgotten that she made studying not terrible.

He’s so screwed.

...

The stables are almost empty when they get there.

After 2 hours of studying, (one hour of studying, one hour of laughing and talking and calling it studying) Annabeth declared it was his turn to pick the activity. Tired of sitting still Percy lands on tending to the pegasi. It was one of his favorite things about camp plus he got to teach Annabeth something for once. Annabeth was comfortable enough around them but she never spent anytime with them that she didn’t have to.

When they entered the barn, Blackjack gave him a look and he blushed remembering all the times he’d come to the stables with Beckendorph to vent about how much he missed Annabeth, (He didn’t even know horses could give looks but here we are) and silently told him it was a long story and to be cool. Annabeth had stopped next to one of the cleaning stations and was looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and they got to work. He showed her how to brush them and how to get tangles out of their manes, where to scritch them and where not to scratch them. He showed her how to check their feathers and make sure their wings were healthy and how to get them to be still enough to check.

Annabeth was excellent with them, gentle hands and kind eyes. Whenever she approached one she would look them in the eye and talk to them like the intelligent creatures they were. Each time she got started taking care of a new steed she’d gently reach for the muzzle and say in a soothing voice:

“Hi, my name is Annabeth and I'm going to groom you today. Don’t worry, I'm friends with Percy, and he taught me exactly how to take care of you. If I’m doing something wrong, let him know and he’ll tell me how to fix it. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you feel like a brand new pegasus.”

Frankly, it was fucking adorable.

Pork-pie had taken a special liking to Annabeth, telepathically asking Percy if she could groom him more often. When he told this to Annabeth she’d beamed and enthusiastically agreed to come down whenever she could. Percy had off-handedly suggested that they take them out for a bit and Annabeth immediately started to release Pork-Pie from his stall.

They flew over camp for what could’ve been minutes or hours. He was lucky that Blackjack could fly himself because Percy couldn’t take his eyes off his flying partner. Her braids held firm, but a few rebellious curls were now whipping with the wind. The atmosphere combined with the speed they were flying, made her cheeks red and splotchy. Her smile is brighter than the sun, and eyes- gods her eyes were going to be the death of him. The sun and her mood (he had this theory that her eyes changed color based on her emotions) had made them almost blue, they are full of laughter, and Percy adores her. And when she directs her sunshine-smile at him, Percy can’t help but smile back.

(He doesn’t stop smiling until they land.)

...

As they're putting their pegusi back in their stalls, Blackjack decides to give him some advice.

“I know I don’t understand all of your fragile human emotions, but I know enough. There’s a lot of bad in this world of ours, and from what you’ve told me about this war business it's only gonna get worse. You gotta make the most of the good.”  He tilts his head over to Annabeth who is cooing at a preening Pork-Pie.

“You and ladyboss, you’re good together. And really nothing else matters.”

He doesn’t have time to even think about a response when Annabeth is walking over from Pork-Pie’s stall, and telling him it's time for a picnic.

...

(“What did Blackjack say to you? You looked kinda flustered when I got you.” Percy almost drops the plate he’s piling with food from the buffet. He’s gotten three pointedly confused looks at the sight of him and Annabeth together and not strangling each other and a thumbs-up from Grover. He and Annabeth are getting their food and then they’ll go sit by the beach.

“Oh,” He clears his throat and goes with the first thing he thinks of. “Blackjack calls you ladyboss.” Good that's good, not technically a lie either.

“Huh. Weird.” Annabeth, seemingly satisfied with this, returns her attention to the grapes she is adding to her plate.)

...

“Where do you go?” Annabeth asks. She’s sitting next to him in the sand brushing crumbs off her fingers. They had been eating and watching the ocean in comfortable silence and Percy furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “Lots of days when you’re at camp for lunch and sometimes dinner you just disappear for hours. And I know you aren’t going home because your stuff is still in your cabin. Where do you go?”

It’s not an accusation, just a question. Percy gets the feeling she doesn’t want to know so she can disturb, she just worries. Percy knows her. He knows she’s always planning for the worst and she needs to be able to get to him if there's an emergency.

(It strikes him that she notices when he disappears and he feels guilty but also just a little hopeful. Because she misses him as much as he misses her.)

He stacks their plates and rests them on the blanket they’d been sharing. Percy stands up and holds out his hand, gesturing for Annabeth to do the same.

“C’mon, I’ll show you.”

...

He tells her to close her eyes. She gives him a skeptical look but obliges and holds out her hands, a silent request for him to guide her. It’s almost easier to take her hands in his without those trademark eyes on him. But it’s not any less intense. As soon as their fingers interlock sparks of electricity lick up his arm. Now that her eyes are closed he can look at her face up close without fear. Her curls had gotten more unruly as the day went on, and the ringlets that framed her face blew lightly in the ocean breeze. He leads her slowly towards the ocean, using his powers to dry any spot she walks on. He sees her brows furrow when she notices how far they’ve walked towards the ocean without their feet getting wet, but she doesn’t say anything. He parts the water for her to walk through, and when the water rises above their heads, he forms an air bubble that moves with them, keeping them dry. When they get to a good spot, squeezes her hand signaling for her to stop with him, but tells her to keep her eyes closed. Then he closes his eyes with her and calls out to the ocean's creatures, making himself a beacon.

Here I am, he thinks. The son of Poseidon.

Come to me.

Minutes pass.

“You can open your eyes now.” He whispers.

She does, and lets out a soft gasp, “Oh, Percy.”

He smiles and looks out at the scene before them. He’d come down here after a particularly bad day and just wanted to sit in silence. It was an accident, calling the creatures to him. Subconsciously, he must have sent a message along that he was feeling alone. And all sorts of sea creatures - from greek monsters and to great white sharks to your average cod had flocked to him. And he didn’t feel so alone. So now, whenever he couldn’t take the human world, he’d come down here and talk to the fish.

This time he’d actually concentrated on getting a message out and they did not disappoint. He couldn’t count all the animals that had heeded his call but it was a sight to behold. He had willed some glowing coral from the deeper ocean to stay in that spot, which created a multicolored tint to everything around them.

Normally they come right up close to him, but this time they were hesitant. And as he listened to the creatures and heard more than a few whispers of Athena and stranger, he’s suddenly reminded that she’s the only person he’s ever done this with. It’s his favorite place, and she is the only other person ever to see it.

“It's okay guys, she’s a friend.” He reassures them. When he looked back at Annabeth, her mouth was still hung open and she was staring out at the scene in front of them in wonder. He smiles at her dazed silence and uses the hand he’s still holding to tug her up to the barrier of the bubble. The first creature willing to accept Annabeth is a baby spotted dolphin. He swims towards the clumsily with eager fins and pokes at the barrier with it’s snout. Annabeth's eyes widen in fear and look up at him and it takes a second to realize she isn’t afraid of the animal, but of their bubble popping.

“Don’t worry, the bubble won’t break unless I break it myself, and it’ll last however long I want it to.” He reassures her. He senses her hesitation so he guides her hand up to meet the snout of the baby dolphin who seems fascinated with Annabeth herself. He reaches his snout and head bumps directly into the spot on the bubble where her palm is placed.

Annabeth lets out a laugh, the kind of laugh that sort of bubbles out of you without warning and it’s the best thing Percy’s ever heard. He watches as the shock fades for her features and she pets the infant creature through the sheen of bubble keeping them dry. The animals begin to warm up to Annabeth as well, and as soon as they figure out she’s not some evil Athena agent sent to destroy the ocean, they join in on the fun. Hundreds of ocean creatures of all sizes begin doing tricks, nuzzling up to the flexible barrier, all vying for Annabeth’s attention. Annabeth herself is happy to oblige. Ever consistent, she introduces herself to each creature she meets. She smiles and laughs and reaches out to all the animals she can. Percy is happy simply to watch her and keep the bubble up but then she turns to him, eyebrow drawn together in concern, pointing to a particularly awnry seahorse, and asks what it's saying.

“He says his name is Frank and that he’s ‘too pregnant for this shit.’”

Annabeth stares blankly.

“His words not mine.” Percy offers hands up in surrender.

Then she snorts and then they’re laughing, they’re laughing harder than they have in years, and it's that kind of hysterical laugh where everything around them makes it more funny, and soon Percy’s clutching his stomach and Annabeth is beet red.  As soon as it subsides enough to get words out Annabeth is shaking his arm saying “Do that one! What's he saying? Oh my gods what even is that? Does that one like me? That ones majestic, what's his name? Oh Percy, look!! Look at that one!”

So he translates and they laugh and he teaches her different species and Annabeth nods along like it’s very important stuff. She pets the baby dolphin through the bubble and listens intently to all the animals telling her stories, even though she can’t understand a word until Percy tells her what they said. And when it’s time to go he sees the tears in her eyes and tells Percy to promise the baby that she’ll visit all the time, even though they both know she can’t.

(Apparently the baby dolphins name is Arnold, and according to his mother, he was so enthralled by Annabeth because when he first saw her he thought she was an angel.)

(Percy thinks he’s not too far off.)

...

(“That was incredible Percy. Thank you so much for sharing that with me.” They had been walking in silence as they made their way back to camp using the bubble, enjoying the afterglow of their adventure.

“Yeah, of course.” She smiles at him and looks ahead.

He’s not sure why he does it but without looking at her he reaches out and ever so carefully, and brushes her fingertips with his.

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

Then suddenly, miraculously, her hand tilts and their fingers are interlocked.

And there's no pretense of guiding her somewhere, they’re just….holding hands.

And it's perfect.)

...

Percy thinks if he’s not in love with her, he’s pretty damn close.

Because this feeling, the one he gets in his chest when he looks at her, is what love feels like.  

...

When they resurface, they’re met with twinkling lights and the last three stragglers singing softly at the campfire. It’s almost time for lights out.

Oh.

Oh no.

Annabeth seems to be coming to the same realization, as she clears her throat and lets go of his hand. He misses her fingers immediately.

“So, I guess we should start heading to bed.” She looks at him, hopeful but he’s stuck. Stuck in the feeling of dread at the idea of waking up tomorrow and not having his best friend. Suddenly the idea of leaving her side is so unbearable he can’t speak.

“Goodnight, Percy.” She’s turning around and backing away when the words lodged in his throat come unstuck.

“8 in the morning.” She turns giving him a ‘what are you on about’ look.

“That when you came and got me at 8 in the morning. We agreed on 24 hours. It's only been 12.”

She smiles slow and wide, “You know you're right, that math checks out.”

“We had very clear terms. We even shook on it.”

“Yes we did.”, she nods gravely. “It’s a binding agreement, we can’t just ignore it.”

“So what do we do?”

She flashes a wicked grin. “You aren’t the only one with a secret spot.”

...

Percy arrives in the Big House 20 minutes after curfew was called, exactly as Annabeth had instructed. He felt her presence before she re-materialized in front of him and in a low conspiratorial whisper tells him to follow her.

They sneak down to the basement and Percy is confused when she keeps walking towards the corner. She lifts up a floorboard and starts climbing down a ladder. She beckons him to join her and when he makes it down the ladder, he can’t help the smile that breaks out. It’s a sort of underground attic, complete with a worn dusty couch, blankets and an old TV.

“I found it my first year at camp by accident. I was down doing chores and one of the broom strings got caught under it. I didn’t have many friends except for….” She lets him fill in the blank rather than say the name out loud. “And when he wanted to be with kids his own age, I’d come here. There's only five movies down here and I memorized them.” She looks down at her shoes. “I know it’s not the sea floor but..”

“Are you kidding? It’s awesome. What are the movies?”

They dig around and end up finding two more that apparently seven-year-old Annabeth did not think worth the time. They watch Die Hard first, (“Oh my Gods I can't believe you haven’t watched Die Hard. This is a travesty. It’s a classic Annabeth.”) then Pulp Fiction, ("I can’t believe it, all the shit you gave me for not seeing Die Hard, and you haven’t Pulp Fiction?? You absolute heathen!") and Clueless. ("What? It has to be full of violence and toxic masculinity to be good? It’s a good movie Percy, shut-up.") Before he knows it, it’s 3:54 am shaking with hysterical silent laugher at Annabeth's impression of Dionysus.

“Oh my gods oh-OH! Do you know what we’ve got to do?”

“Uh-oh, what?”

She grins impishly and a little deliriously. “We’ve gotta go to our spot.”

“Ah, of course. Yes, our spot, totally.” He says in a voice he hopes is neutral, in an effort to gage if she’s serious.  

“Oh my gods.” She gasps, offended.

“What.”  

“I can’t believe this.”

“You can’t believe what?”

“You forgot our spot.”

“I’m sorry Annabeth, until four seconds ago I wasn’t aware we had a spot.”

“Oh my gods. I can not believe this-” He can tell she’s messing with him, and not actually mad.

“Annabeth, just tell me where it is.”

“I simply can not believe this, you absolute heathen-”

“Stop calling me a heathen, and tell me where it is.”

She smiles, “I can show you.”

...

“Oh, of course! This is our spot!”

Annabeth chuckles, “I told you.” They’re standing at the edge of the forest at the tallest of the rock clusters to the far left. It's the one they used to go to after their first quest, the place where Annabeth taught him the constellations. The place where he made his first real friend. Not people he hung out with to avoid getting picked on. Not a searcher who happened to like the demigod he found.  His first real best-friend.

They climbed up easily and lay down looking straight up at the sky. Annabeth points up at the floating memorials, and Percy dutifully recites the legends of how they earned their place in the sky. They're shoulder to shoulder and their fingers graze each other for longer than necessary. And slowly they lull into comfortable silence, arms overlapping, at some point Annabeth's head lands on his shoulder. Percy freezes for a while, staying absolutely still as if she’s a wild creature who could bolt at any moment. But then he relaxes, and she relaxes and he’s pretty sure she’s asleep until she takes in a shaky breath and whispers, “Hey, Percy?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna be okay right?” He can tell she's trying to mask the vulnerability in her voice. And he can’t see all of her face from the angle they’re laying, but her nose is on his collarbone, and her hair is tickling his chin.

He closes his eyes, and he thinks. He thinks about Luke and Rachel and how nothings been the same since Percy blew up that mountain.

He thinks about seeing her for the first time, grey eyes wide hair falling off her shoulders and how even after everything he just went through, he felt safe. He thinks about ‘you drool when you sleep’, and the way she looked at him when he was claimed- awestruck and pitiful at the same time. He thinks about rolled eyes, stamped feet, and frustration always just under the surface. He thinks about silent truces, and letting guards down, and shared oreos in the back of a mobile zoo. He thinks about sweaty palms gripping each other in the Underworld, and shaky hands giving him a good luck camp necklace. He thinks about camp fires, stupid jokes, learning about the stars, and how the just fit.

He thinks about postcards and iris-messages, and how she punched Matt Sloane square on the nose. He thinks about how despite the arguing and the confusion about Tyson, she was always there when she needed him. How she didn’t hesitate to sneak out of camp with one of the first species he ever learned to truly fear, because he asked her to. He thinks about her in a dress and how tongue-tied him in guinea pig form. He thinks about her broken sobs and how she clutched at him in their underwater bubble. He thinks about winning a chariot race, the softest of cheek kisses and how in this world of gods and monsters, she’s the only thing he was really sure about.

He thinks about how she was the first girl he ever danced with, and how light everything felt when she was around. He thinks about how it felt strangely familiar when she fell off that cliff, and how only days later realized that it was the same desperation he had when Hades took his mother. He thinks about how gutted it was when he found out she was thinking about joining the Hunters. He thinks about his visit from Aphrodite and how even though she changed form, her hair smelled like lemons the entire time. He thinks about when he saw her on that cliff it was like the sun came out. How he saw her face and it was smudged with dirt and cuts but she was alive and he could breathe again. He thinks about how his throat closed up when he thought Artemis was going to pick her for the Hunt. He remembers how when they danced on Olympus, for a song she was prettier than Aphrodite.

He thinks about planning a movie date, and how he discovered Annabeth doesn’t get any less pretty when she’s mad at him. How she sat right next to him at dinner and how when she fixed his armour, his neck burned wherever she touched him. He thinks about falling in a whole and holding her hand and how they’d done it before but it felt different that time. He thinks about ping pong table meetings and how he became aware of the fact that he’d follow her anywhere. He thinks about the determination in her when she faced the Sphinx, and how the same fire was in them right before she kissed him. He thinks about how she tasted like smoke and salt, and how for the 3.2 seconds that his lips were hers, the first thing he thought was ‘we fit like this too’. He thought he was going to die but it was okay. It was okay that he was going to die, because he had gotten to kiss her. He thinks about Calypso’s Island, and how he dreamt about her every night. How when he crashed his funeral, she held like she couldn’t bear to let go and how that was fine with him. He thinks about the blur that was the labyrinth, full of unshed tears, words that cut, and how despite all the scream fights and the terror, and the barely contained rage, none of it lessened the fierce protectiveness he feels for her. How despite it all, she's still the best thing that's ever fucking happened to him. He thinks about the last line of her prophecy, and how she thought it was about him.

He loves her.

He’s not sure if he’s in love with her because he’s 15 and he hasn’t exactly had time to date around but he knows that for a fact. Knowing Annabeth, loving Annabeth has made him who he is. She is burned into his DNA. Somehow the 12 year old with princess curls and eyes that cut, crawled under his skin. He knows he’s done the same to her, even though they’re both too stubborn to say it out loud. They could never really leave each other, even if they tried.

So Percy shifts so he can see her face in the pale moonlight, brushes a curl out of her face and says,

“Yeah. It’s us Annabeth. We’re gonna be alright.”

She smiles soft and real because she knows him, so she knows he means it. He’s not sure who reaches out this time, but they're holding hands and staring at the sky in a silence that speaks volumes.

They stay like that until it’s sunrise and they have to sneak into their respective cabins. Looking at stars, fighting sleep, and forgetting about the rest of the world.

______________

(They hold hands all the way back to her cabin.)

(He doesn’t stop smiling the whole way back to his own.)

______________

if your still here hi! thank you for reading. send in prompts from this list, or any sentence starter you want to read. ask box is open for those and if you just wanna say hi :)

[off-the-heezys]

Shotgun

wow a fucking pikemax fic YBGDSJDKG

i wrote this originally for @gh0stbunnie for their highschool AU but thought i would post it here too

uuh cw for smoking, cursing, internalized homophobia

Max pulled a small box of cigarettes out of his pocket, pulling one out. “You got a lighter on you?” He asked without looking up. Edward paused before shoving his hand in his pocket and pulling one out. He carried it around along with his pocket knife, mainly to mess with it. Opening and closing it whenever he was bored. But it has some fluid in it. He tossed it over to Max, who caught it and swiftly lit his cigarette, taking a deep drag and sighing and he leaned back on his hand, looking out.

They were in a junkyard, sitting on top of an old, beat up car. Neither of them really wanted to be home, so they snuck out. And bumped into each other here. Like fate or something.

It was dark, the only thing lighting up the area was the moon, distant lights, and Max’s cigarette.

There was a long, drawn out pause before either of them spoke.

“Tough day, huh?” Max asked, tilting his head slightly towards Edward but not looking at him. The redhead huffed, amused.

“Tell me about it,” he grumbled, bringing a knee up and resting his arm on it. “I had far too many assignments this week, I could barely hang out with Snake or Petrol, I fucking hate most of the kids in my grade, my dad is thinking about sending me off to the military..” he dragged a hand down his face, groaning. Max let out a small ‘yeesh,’ taking another drag.

“Being you sounds awful.”

“Yeah, I could say the same for you,” Edward glanced at him. Max chuckled, shrugging.

“Touché.”

They sat in silence for a couple more moments, looking out at the junkyard, before Max noticed Edward watching him smoke. He smirked, holding out the cigarette.

“You want some?” He asked, mostly joking. Before he could do anything, the redhead plucked it out of his hand and looked back forward, taking a long drag out of it before sighing. Edward held it between his pointer and middle finger, and rested his arm back on his knee, gently tapping the back so some of the ashes could fall.

Max just stared at him, his position hadn’t moved since Edward took the cigarette. His mouth was slightly agape, and he only had one thought in his brain

Holy shit that was hot.

Edward paused before looking back at him. “…My.. dad smokes,” he said, looking away again, assuming the expression was because Max had never seen him smoke. He brought it back up to his mouth before pausing. “I don’t.. do it a lot because I got caught one too many times…” he took a drag, letting his shoulders relax as he exhaled. “But I kind of needed it.” He handed it back to Max, who slowly took it back.

The raven haired boy just kept staring at him, which caused Edward to turn to his, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked. Max paused and just chuckled, shaking his head as he got back into his previous position.

“Nothing, nothing. Just wondering if you’re actually Edward Pikeman or if you’re his cooler look alike.”

“Haha fuck you.”

Max laughed.

.

They had gone through a cigarette or two, passing them between each other before Max had a thought. An idea to mess with Edward

“Hey, Eddy,” he said, looking over at the other. The redhead scowled a bit at the nickname, but didn’t say anything about it.

“What?” He asked.

Here goes nothing.

Max took a huff and grabbed Edward by the shirt, quickly pulling him towards himself. He stopped him right as their mouths hovered over each other, Max blowing smoke into the others. After he was finished, he gently pushed Edward away, looking up at him.

Edwards cheeks were red, and his mouth was hanging open, smoke slowly oozing out of it until he forced himself to exhale.

They just stared at each other for a long moment. Right as Max slightly loosened his grip on Edwards shirt, the red head grabbed his shoulders, and smashed their lips together.

It was kind of clunky and awkward, but they didn’t care. Not like they had any experience before.

Edward slid his hands up into Max’s hair- curls he had longed to comb through. Max dropped the cigarette and he cupped Edwards face, it rolling off the car. They both were lost in it, the taste of nicotine on their breaths only making it worse.

Then Edward suddenly placed his hands back on Max’s shoulders and ripped him away. They both stared at each other, panting. The redhead looked…. Terrified.

“I’m sorry.”

Edward quickly let go of Max, slipping off the car. “Wh-“ Max tried to say something but Edward quickly cut him off.

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I-I..” he started walking. “I need to go.” Max slid off the car and tried to stop him.

“Wait-“ but Edward had picked up the pace and was already nearing the entrance.

The raven haired boy watched him leave, sighing and he shoved his hands in his pockets. Then he pulled out Edwards lighter.

He was confused. And hurt. Why leave so suddenly? Did Max do something wrong?? He looked back up at the entrance of the junkyard, hearing the redhead start up his car and drive away. He stood there for a good bit before putting the lighter back in his pocket.

They’ll talk about it when he gives it back.

.

Edward was shaking. His breathing was rough. He shouldn’t be driving. He shouldn’t have left home. He shouldn’t have kissed-

He jumped as a car honked at him, quickly turning back into his correct lane. He needed to calm down.

He pulled over into the nearest gas station and parked. He was taking deep breathes before he dropped his head in his hands.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why did he do that?

Now Max knows.

He knows Edward is a disgusting queer who may or may not be into him. Now Max has his disgusting germs all over him. And he’s going to tell all his friends about how gross he is.

He choked back a sob, tears flowing out of his eyes and falling onto his pant legs and car seat.

He was terrified.

Because he liked it.

No. He loved it.

He loved the feeling of Max’s curls as his fingers ran through it. He loved Max’s soft lips and his nicotine flavored breath. His small hands holding his face. And how he-

…How he kissed back.

A flicker of hope sparked in Edward before it was immediately put out.

Max was just messing with him. Some cruel, twisted joke. That’s what the shot gunning before was. Just something to mess with him.

Nothing more than that.

Besides. Max would never fall for someone like him. An ugly, socially outcasted weirdo. He could never. Never ever ever ever-

Edward wheezed and he started loudly sobbing, wrapping his arms around himself as he wept and cried, shaking.

Had to get it out now before he went home.

[harghoes]

Homesick

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

Warnings: SMUT -- sexual language, oral, penetration, just soft sweet sex idk bro, Wolffe’s fav nicknames are pretty/sweet girl

a/n: well hi! I am very new to this and very awkward but I hope if you read it you enjoy! This is my first ever fic so if it’s a little clunky please bear with me. I really do hope that if you do read this that you do like it! Anyway, run along now. :-) Gif not mine!!

It was hot. Really, unbearably hot. Being pressed against the cool wall did little to stop the heat from rising all over you. Wolffe is flattening you to the wall, lips heavy on yours, with his thigh in between your legs. 

It had happened in a flash, one second you saw him in the halls and the next you’re being crushed by him. Maker, he’s so big. Your lips separate as Wolffe heads to kiss your neck. 

“Oh pretty girl, I missed you so much.” he claims through kisses. 

You whimper in reply. He pulls away from your neck to look at your face. To really look at you. After being apart for so long, it felt like a homecoming when he pressed his lips against yours once more. He slides his hands down to your thighs, where he taps, signalling for you to jump. As you do, he catches you by your ass, and you wrap your legs around him. Being in this position allows you to feel him. All of him. You grind your hips as best you can while he’s holding you up. Wolffe begins to move towards the bed, all while grabbing and kissing you. 

Once he lays you on the bed, you groan out for him. “Wolffe, honey, please. I need you so bad.” 

“Okay, sweet girl, I know. I need you just as bad, sweetheart. You have no idea how long I’ve been imagining being here with you again.” 

Whining, once more, at his words you sit up on your knees to help him start taking off his armor. While Wolffe is finishing taking his armor off, you begin to take your shirt and bra off. When you go to reach for your pants button, that’s when Wolffe’s hands come crashing back to you. He swats your clumsy hands away and swiftly takes off your pants and panties. 

Wolffe lays you back on the bed, slowly leaning over you to press another loving kiss. He begins his trail down your body, leaving bruises and bites all on your neck and breasts. He gives your breasts lavish attention, getting you moaning just from his small touches. Wolffe takes your nipple in his mouth and grazes his teeth softly against it. His hand is traveling its way down the length of your body. You arch your body into his when he finally reaches where you need him most.

After a few fleeting touches, he finally presses down on your clit and has you groaning out for him. “Wolffe, please. Please, I need you to give me more.” you whimper out for him. Wolffe releases your nipple from his mouth and begins kissing his way down, down past your navel, your lower stomach, and finally reaches where he has wanted to be for weeks now.

 He begins with a quick kiss to both of your thighs, before he throws your legs over his shoulder and presses his mouth to you. You cry out for him as he starts sucking your clit, massaging it with his tongue in turns. 

“You’re so wet for me already pretty girl, did you miss me as much as I missed you?” Wolffe asks. 

As you go to answer he sucks a little harsher and has you moaning even louder. 

“Yes” you reply breathlessly. “Yes, Wolffe, I’ve missed you so much while you were gone. I was a good girl, didn’t touch myself while you were gone.” It’s not like it would’ve been the same, you want to tell him. He’s already back to being lost in you though, trying to give you your first orgasm as soon as possible. His hand leaves your thigh and comes down to your pussy. He gently pushes in one finger. Then, two. Your thighs squeeze his head from the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you, hands clenching the sheets tightly. Wolffe brings his free hand up to grip onto yours, allowing you to know that he’s right here and he isn’t going to be leaving any time soon. 

Wolffe starts curling his fingers, hitting that spot just the right way to have you coming all on his hand and his face. He keeps pumping his fingers to withdraw your orgasm as long as possible before removing them. You reach up to grab his jaw and bring him in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on him as his tongue invades your mouth and you groan. Pulling away, you finally take a good look at Wolffe. He looks much more tired than when he left you and you can only hope that his brothers were taking good care of him. War brings unimaginable fatigue to a person.

Wolffe mutters, “are you ready, cyar’ika?” 

You nod, whispering back “I’m always ready for anything with you, cyare.” 

Wolffe settles himself between your thighs, bending to kiss you while he slips into you. You moan into his mouth while he stretches you out. Being away for just those few weeks, makes you forget what it feels like to be filled up with Wolffe’s dick. Pulling away, resting foreheads on each other, you sigh, “go ahead, please move Wolffe.” After giving the go ahead, Wolffe pulls back to thrust back in. “Oh, cyar’ika, you’re gripping me so tight. You have such a tight little pussy, Maker.” Wolffe is groaning into your neck. All you can do is let out little whimpers and breathless whispers of love as he begins to piston his hips into yours. You bring a hand to your mouth to try and cover the screams that are about to leak out, but Wolffe has other ideas. 

“Let them hear you, how good I’m making you feel. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, aren’t I? Such a good little girl, letting me take you when I need you. Maker, I love you.” 

Your screams are getting louder the closer you get to your orgasm, making your Commander proud by letting everyone in the nearest vicinity hear who is making you feel so good. 

“Maker, Wolffe! I love you! I love you so much! Please, please don’t stop!” 

Wolffe reaches down to start playing with your clit, feeling how you grip him tighter, but he keeps his pace. He can tell that you’re close once you start babbling nonsense. 

“You’re so good for me cyar’ika. Look at how your pretty pussy takes me so well. I can’t believe I am lucky enough to call you mine.” Wolffe grunts out.

At the last sentence spoken from him, you come undone. Wolffe’s pace falters slightly with your orgasm and he comes down to kiss you once more. Disconnecting your lips again, you reach up to caress his jaw. Reaching for his scar, you slightly rub it with your thumb and bring him closer to kiss the scar. Wolffe, still sensitive to touch, comes after your lips leave his scar. 

Giving a few more thrusts to ease through your combined orgasms, Wolffe finally pulls out. He lays on the bed beside you and wraps his arms around your frame pulling you tight against him. He presses a kiss to your forehead before whispering, “I couldn’t survive without you, sweet girl. You’re the reason I’m still fighting this war, in hopes that we can be together freely some day.” 

In response, “Ni kar’tayl gai darasuum.” escapes your lips. Wolffe can only smile and rest his head on top of yours, happy to finally be home.

[theravennest]

Let’s Talk: The Blooms at Ruyi Pavilion

I finished all 40 eps about two weeks ago, actually. I enjoyed it for the most part, the 1st half especially, but there were several things near the end that took me out. 

But first some of the good bits...

The cast chemistry was immaculate. Our four main lead actors were a lot of fun together. Not just Zhang Zhehan and Ju Jing Yi, but also Wang You Shuo and Xu Jiaqi (Loved them!). The four of them have such obvious ease with each other after their previous work together in Legend of Yun Xi and it made scenes with any combination of the main four really pop. 

I was especially drawn to the sisters’ relationship and the Prince-Vassal bond going on between Prince Su and Little Marquis. (Y’all know I’m a sucker for both sibling stories and stories about fictional royals and their loyal vassals.)

Most of the ancillary characters were interesting, actually. As y’all know from my last post about this one, I was crack shipping like crazy all the side characters. 😂 This cast made it easy for me.

Except for Prince An. (Sorry to hit the bad so early.) Good god, I hated that man. His character was poorly drawn in pretty much every way, which is unfortunate cuz he’s the main antagonist. Any story with a main antagonist that just doesn’t work is always gonna be weaker.

Also, no offense to people who like that actor but he was the only cast member who did absolutely nothing for me in terms of performance. So much of the story was focused on his weaksauce motivation and dry acting like, my god, put me out of my misery I do not care.

Anyway, the set design and costuming was top notch and I even enjoyed the broader story ideas the show was trying to put forth. The sitcom vibe of the first 20 eps or so was SOOO good. Our four mains’ comedic timings were pitch perfect. 

Unfortunately, the writing took a sharp nosedive in the back 3rd or so and it had a rough ending. (The lightning strike on the tower scene, the fight in the underground temple, the return of Prince An’s mom...all of that was trash. let’s be real.)

I mostly blame this on three things: the missteps with the Prince An character, the lack of development of Rong’s prophetic dreams even though that was the main premise of the show, and the jump-the-shark moment that was the wedding night and its subsequently underwritten fallout. 

Now to clarify, I don’t mean to say the wedding night event shouldn’t have happened at all but rather the execution of it within the story was poor and it negatively impacted 90% of the other character motivations/progressions and the overall pacing. 

You know, it felt like that thing you do as a writer where you wake up and have a specific scene in your mind. It’s evocative, impactful, fun, or otherwise intense. But you just have that scene and it’s something that would have to happen in the middle of your story. So you work your way backwards to try to get to that scene and you do your best to get the characters to make decisions to get there but when you sit down to write nothing works out. It’s clunky or OOC for the scene to still happen so you end up having to either scrap the evocative scene or keep the clunky lead up and hope no one notices. That’s what that wedding scene and everything that happened after felt like. They wrote themselves into a corner and just struggled to recover until the bitter end. 

The main pairing suffered the most because of the poor writing choices. No matter how much chemistry ZZH and JJY have together, even they could not completely salvage Rong’s yo-yoing behavior with Prince Su. They started off so wholesome and then dove into such toxicity and miscommunication for no reason. 

Don’t get me wrong. I can very easily enjoy angst. But Fu Rong consistently broke this man down. After ep 25-26, it stopped being good angst and became so awful to watch all the emotional manipulation and turmoil. There’s something broken in the writing if 9 out of 10 times Prince Su cried or fell into depression it was because of something Rong did or said to him after jumping to a conclusion with only part of the puzzle pieces gathered. 

I could forgive some stuff because Prince An was manipulating things but some stuff was just all Rong not giving Prince Su the benefit of the doubt or plain old not doing her due diligence in investigating. She is supposed to have inherited the most prolific and successful spy organization in the show and she still got 90% of her conclusions wrong. It was like she was determined to always think the worst of Prince Su no matter what despite how often he went above and beyond to help her. Despite the fact that he literally had a reputation as a general for being a harsh taskmaster but fair and just. 

I think what broke me was when she did the bare minimum investigation into her own father’s death and just fully blamed Prince Su without confronting him honestly or even considering his personality or their relationship up until that point. She really believed a single street seller’s entire testimony over the man she lived with and supposedly loved for months. Girl...

And this is after she’d previously mistakenly accused him of killing her mentor with very few facts to the point where she stabbed him on their wedding night.

There came a point where I actually wanted Prince Su to finally, truly divorce Rong and settle down with someone who could love him right. Maybe give him time to heal from the repeated heartbreaks, betrayals, and the literal stab wound in his chest but he was so fucking in love with Rong, he just couldn’t escape.

(If there were behind the scenes production reasons for the clunky-ness of the back half, I would not be surprised at all but ultimately they don’t matter cuz the story we got was the story we got.)

Imagine if we had gotten a Rong who used her prophetic dreams to navigate the cut throat world of royal politics. Or imagine if we’d gotten Rong as a true apprentice to Ruyi who learned both metalsmithing and spycraft in the first half and took over the pavilion as a competent leader in the second half. As it stands, it just felt like wasted potential.

I’m glad they had the modern day special AU eps tho cuz those were great. Zhang Zhehan and Ju Jing Yi had the opportunity to really showcase their incredible chemistry but in a modern setting and with better writing than the back 3rd of BRYP.

Now let’s talk Zhang Zhehan since he was the reason I started this in the first place. I loved him in this. I truly did. He was stern and serious but also playful and sweet. He was romantic but awkward, badass but vulnerable. He really delivered a nuanced and charming performance. I loved every second.

I think my favorite moment wasn’t some badass fight or even a super romantic moment. No, it was when he got drunk and started crying like a little baby cuz Rong was constantly doubting him no matter what he did. It was simultaneously sad and hilarious. Like gut busting funny. Y’all can watch it here:

I laughed so fucking hard at this. Oh my god, guys! This shit was too much.

Random Thoughts:

The romance between the 2nd leads was A+. Truly an adorable affair. Though I think they should’ve gotten together officially earlier around ep 25 or so and we should’ve seen the rest with them as a couple.

The costuming was so good y’all. For all the main four characters but I was especially drawn to Prince Su’s outfits.

The ghostly pale look with the bright red lips and eyeshadow makeup for Rong did not bother me at all. I actually liked it for her though I think it would’ve worked better if she’d had more explicit prophetic abilities.

I could’ve used more actual war scenes with Prince Su and Little Marquis.

The OST for the show SLAPPED!

That one kid spy in Ruyi Pavilion was voiced by the same actor as Chengling from WOH and I have never double-taked harder. lmao

Even though there were things I didn’t like in this show, I appreciated how gay I could make it in my last post. Truly it was a bisexual’s dream aesthetically.

[forcefully-awoken]

y!denki anon - I wasn’t too sure what you were in the mood for so I figured broad idea to start! if you’re willing to go more specific ... lil sparky boy getting tired of reader *looking* at all these men and forcing her in some back alley? if not, thank you either way for answering!

LMAO YEAH THATS MY B I SHOULD UPDATE THAT SHIT

tw: yan!denki, 18+, dubcon (coeircion), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, spanking, daddy kink, kinda marking? bruising. SORRY i went a bit much with that.

people always think of bakugo when it comes to sparks flying out of his fingers, the small explosions that accompany them.

they rarely think of denki, but now, with his fingers snapping in your face, you can see the small streaks of electricity. idly, you think it’s beautiful in its own way, how it looks like miniature lightning dancing across his lithe fingers. the sour look on his face, his furrowed brows and twisted mouth, spoil the picture however.

“what are you looking at, babe?” his voice is as harsh as his face, forcing your attention back to him. you’d been spacing out as you two relaxed. bar hopping with friends wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, but denki was always a bit more… normal when he had a beer or two in him. he hadn’t been drinking tonight, though, too busy watching you like a hawk in all the crowded rooms.

“nothing, just lost in my thoughts,” you quickly try to explain, but his mouth only presses into a straight line as his eyes trace where you had been looking at before. to your dismay there was a small group of men standing across the street, directly in your line of sight. you get to watch the change wash over his face. his face completely drops, becomes impassive.

it’s now that you know you’re in trouble.

his hand grips your wrist, and thank god you have a long sleeve shirt on otherwise it would be so tight he’d leave a bruise around it. you know that’s what he wants. you’ve got fading bruises all over your body, places just carefully enough that one wrong move and they’ll show through your hero costume. denki knows exactly how to mark you to keep you on your toes. he yanks you off the bench, forward through the street until he’s leading you down a back alley, far enough back that you can just barely see the street.

but if someone looked they could see you.

you’re pressed immediately up against the wall, your cheek scratching up against it. you whimper when you feel denki press his hips up against your ass, can already feel how he’s hard beneath his tight jeans. he pushes and adjusts you until you’re bent over in front of him.

“come on, pretty baby,” you can hear him mumble, pressing the short skirt he had you wear tonight up over your hips. it makes you wonder if he planned this. wanted to find some flimsy excuse to fuck you in a dark alley. “push your ass out for me, wanna show you who you belong to.” at that, you finally find your voice.

“please, denki, not here. someone might hear or see,” your words don’t have the heat behind them that you want, not when they break off into a moan as he quickly rubs your clit over your underwear. he’s not gentle with it, using his knowledge of your body to get you as wet as possible as quickly as he can.

“shoulda thought about that before eyefucking those guys, yeah?” he huffs out, his voice short and clipped, “you want to make it up to me, right?”

and you do.

you always do.

he’s always been so insecure about it, nothing you ever do or say quite reaches into that dark part of his mind. no matter your reassurances, verbal or physical, he still has something inside him, this possessive quality that he can’t shake. some days it makes your relationship like fire and others like ice.

your drawn out of your thoughts when you feel your underwear being stretched to the side and feel his cock press up against your entrance. you bite back a scream when he presses into you. even when you’re wet and ready for him the stretch is intense, and now it feels like he’s splitting you open. a hand tangles in your hair to yank you back up against him. the angle changes and you clench down around him.

“i want them to hear you,” is all he says before he sets a brutal pace. the hand remains tangled in your hair while the other one grips your hip so tightly you know there will be a bruise now. it puts you in an awkward position but the head of his cock rubs against you in such a way that you can’t help but moan, loud and reverberating down the alley. the thought of getting caught burns hot in your chest, both of your hero licenses on the line if it happens, but denki doesn’t seem to care.

“that’s right, babe, let them all know who’s fucking you like this,” he groans out, though you note his voice is still rather quiet. you know if you don’t cave he won’t stop, will pout and punish you until you’re crying so he can build you right back up.

you cave.

“chargebolt!” his hero name has always felt clunky in your mouth when you moan it out but you know that’s what he wants. he rewards you with a sharp slap to your ass, before his hand comes around to find your clit. he doesn’t rub it this time, simply presses down on the neglected bundle of nerves as he presses himself as deep as he can inside you. you feel his cock twitch as he cums, and the heat of it triggers your own. your walls flutter around him, milking out every last drop.

“that’s it, baby, take all of daddy’s cum,” he holds himself there, making sure to stay inside of you until he’s too soft to do so. when he pulls out you can feel a small rush of fluid, and your face flushes when you realize that your underwear won’t be enough to keep it from running down your legs. once he’s tucked himself back away, he fixes your underwear and skirt back in place. you keep your head down when you exit the alley, trying to avoid any prying eyes. you think denki will take you home, but he tugs you back to the last bar you saw your friends at.

“what are you doing? i can’t go in there like this,” you hiss at him, “it’s going to be running down my legs soon!”

“better try to keep your legs closed then, huh?” he asks with a friendly smile and a little laugh.

“wouldn’t want to disappoint me again would you?”

[creacherkeeper]

based on this post by @horde-princess

between 5x06 and 5x07 - catra and adora discuss the origins of she-ra’s new form 

-

The technology was ancient, and no matter how much Entrapta had fixed it up in the weeks they’d been on the ship, things were bound to be a little clunky, a little too loud. Adora didn’t know a thing about mechanics, but she thought there had to be a way to fix it. Maybe a little grease wasn’t enough to solve her problem, but they had to try something.

She hated the way Catra flinched whenever the door to the bedroom opened.

(She told herself it was just the noise.)

“I brought some food,” she said, trying to plaster on a smile as she watched Catra’s muscles unclench. “Don’t worry, Bow made it. It’s probably edible.”

Catra nodded, clawed fingers messing with the edge of the blanket.

Adora stopped a ways away from the bed (okay, it was a mattress on a table, whatever) and pushed the tray of food back and forth between her hands.

“You haven’t eaten in a while,” she said, trying not to clear the nerves from her throat. She couldn’t ask ‘are you hungry’, because Catra would just say no.

Catra nodded again, eyes downcast.

“I’ll, um. I’ll leave it here.” She sat the tray at the foot of the bed, room enough that Catra couldn’t kick it without trying.

She twiddled her fingers, lips trying to twitch into an awkward smile.

“Do you need anything else?”

“No,” Catra mumbled, sounding, to Adora’s ears, very, very tired. And then, after a moment, “Thank you.”

“Of course.”

Adora stayed by the edge of the bed, staring. It was a moment before she caught herself doing so, and she huffed an anxious laugh and quickly turned to leave the room.

Catra stopped her right before the door.

“Adora?”

The door—the damned noisy creaky door—groaned opened. It was Adora this time who flinched at the noise.

She spun faster than she meant to.

“Yeah?”

From the bed, Catra watched her, mismatched eyes shining in the soft light of the room. Her eyebrows were pressing inwards, bottom lip caught on one sharp tooth.

“Um.” Catra looked down, away. “Can I ask you a question?”

The heart inside Adora’s chest jolted and quickened its pace.

She took a few hasty steps forward.

“Yes, of course. Absolutely. What’s up?”

She tried not to screw up her face at how awkward that sounded, at how awkward this whole thing was. She and Catra had … well … ‘made up’ maybe wasn’t a good term for it. There was so much between them still, so much history, so much hurt. They were speaking now. That was good. They had, Adora knew, a very long way to go.

Catra glanced at her briefly, then away again.

“Why, um … Why do you look different now?” Her face pinched. She shook her head. “She-ra, I mean.”

“Oh.”

Adora shifted her weight, trying not to be disappointed. It was a fair question, just not one she had a clear answer to.

“Like the- the outfit, and everything?”

Catra nodded.

“Well, I guess … I mean, I don’t have the sword anymore, so that may be it? I don’t know how much that was … controlling it, I guess.”

“Oh,” Catra said quietly. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

Adora stared with the perplexed realization that that was not what Catra had wanted to hear.

She shifted her weight again, twitched her fingers, scuffed her boot on the floor. Before she could think better of it, she slid the tray to the other side of the bed and sat down at the foot.

Catra’s eyes drew up to watch her.

“That’s maybe not all of it,” she admitted.

The slit pupils drew across her face, but Catra was silent. Alert and listening.

Adora took a breath.

“It feels … kind of different, now? I … Well, I lost her. She-ra. I destroyed the sword, and I didn’t think I had the connection to her anymore. For a while, I … thought she was gone. I was so distraught, I tried everything, but I really did think she was lost. I couldn’t become She-ra.”

Adora steeled herself.

“Not until I came to get you.”

Catra’s eyes widened. She blinked a few times before she looked away. Adora thought her cheeks were a shade darker.

“Yeah, well.” Catra cleared her throat, her hands tightening around the blanket. “You always have to save everyone, don’t you? Gotta be the big hero.”

“I never wanted to be.”

Catra’s eyes shot back. Adora was surprised how easily the words had slipped out, how desperately fast the rest were coming.

“I never wanted to save the world. I never wanted to be the hero. I got chosen. That’s it, that’s the whole thing. For whatever reason, the universe chose me. I’m just doing what I have to.”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Catra bit back, and despite the opposition, Adora was a little pleased with the energy in her voice. “Even when we were kids, you were the big protector. That’s how you’ve always been.”

“Yeah,” Adora agreed, and Catra’s face clouded with confusion. “But that wasn’t about … all this. It wasn’t about saving the world. It was about saving you. That’s it, it … That’s what I cared about, that’s where it all came from. It was just about protecting you. And I know- I know you don’t need me to, and you don’t like it. You can take care of yourself. And- And there were so many times where I still failed, but—”

“Hey,” Catra cut her off. Her face was growing softer, but there was something else to it. Frustration, maybe. Trying to find what to say.

“Sorry,” Adora mumbled. She looked down at her hands, twisting on her lap.

“I can—” She heard Catra take a breath. “I can maybe do with a little protecting. Sometimes.”

Adora rolled with a chuckle. She shot Catra a weak smile, surprised to find her eyes were wet.

Catra’s lips quirked in return. The expression fell, and Adora looked away.

“It’s not that I didn’t want you to protect me, when we were kids.” She pushed a sigh through her nose. “I just … I didn’t want us to need to be saved, you know? I thought … I thought we would both get so strong that … We’d have each other’s backs, and we’d both be so strong that no one could hurt us even if they wanted to. You protecting me meant that there were people still trying. People who could. Who … Who did. And maybe sometimes I got scared that if you were the one always protecting me, that you didn’t think I could have your back too, or … or maybe you’d get tired of it, of me not pulling my weight, of my not doing my share, and you’d …”

“I’d leave,” Adora finished quietly.

“Yeah.”

Adora let out a shaking, watery breath as she leaned back on her hands. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to blink away the blur.

“I get that,” she whispered after a second. “I do. I’m sorry I didn’t see that before.”

“I’m sorry I never said it.”

Despite her tears, a little smile tugged her lips at the apology.

“I guess—” Adora swallowed, trying to find her words. “I guess I thought that if I was protecting you, if I could do that … That was the reason I was there, you know? Not- Not in the Horde specifically, but … just … alive? Like that was my purpose? I thought if I could protect you, then that would justify the space I took up.”

Catra was quiet for a few moments.

“That sounds like a lot.”

“I wanted to, though?” She rolled her head to the side, staring at Catra as if that would summon her meaning. She used to do the same thing when they were kids—just stare until her thoughts made sense and the words came to her. It drove Catra up the wall. It felt … right, that she could do it again now. “I never … I didn’t think of it as a burden, or … Now, with She-ra, this is what I’m supposed to do, it’s what I have to do. It’s my duty to the world, and I’m doing it.” Her eyebrows drew, mouth parting as she watched Catra’s expression and thought. “It never felt that way with you. It wasn’t a task, a weight, it … it was my purpose. And that felt … good. It felt right.”

Catra was watching her with such soft concern, some new expression of aching understanding, that Adora had to look away.

“I didn’t feel that way again until I got you back from Prime.”

“The new She-ra form …” Catra mumbled.

“Yeah. I think so.”

They were quiet. Adora reached up and rubbed the fuzziness from her eyes.

“With the saving the world stuff …” Catra said after a while. “Do you … have to? I mean, if you never wanted to, if that isn’t what it was about—”

“Who else is going to, Catra?”

Catra’s mouth closed.

“I- It stopped being about me a long time ago,” Adora said. “I have a duty. The universe gave me a job, and I’m doing it. That’s it, that’s … that’s all there is to it. No one else can do it, so I am. I’m not going to sit idly by when I could do something.”

“Yeah.”

Adora watched her eyes slip down, watched her hands grip hard against the blanket.

“You were never the type to let things be.”

Adora’s stomach knotted. She watched Catra, but the other girl didn’t look back up at her.

Adora cleared her throat. She stood, brushed herself off, tugged the bottom of her jacket.

“You should eat before it gets cold.”

Catra was quiet. She nodded.

Adora took a breath and pushed it out. She looked around the room, but there was nothing left to say.

“I’ll let you rest.”

Her boots trudged across the room, though she didn’t want to leave. She was so tired of leaving Catra. She wanted Catra to call her back, for her to turn once again and find a reason to stay.

There was silence in the room.

Catra didn’t call her back, and Adora didn’t find her reason. She stood in the doorway until the damn creaky noisy door groaned open, and this time, Adora didn’t flinch.

[breadoffoxy]

Of Insults and Flowers

Summary: You weren’t sure what to expect when a hot customer comes barging into your shop, but the depletion of your flowers representing insults and falling in love was definitely not on the list.

Written for the  BTS Ghostie Writers Bingo Bash. Prompt: Florist!AU

Pairing: Jungkook x n. Reader

Genre: Fluff, one sprinkle of angst, humor, florist!AU

Warnings: Some language, cheesy flirting, kissing, an innuendo, Jin being the best chaotic friend, brother, and boss a person could ever want.

Word Count: 5,363

The day at the shop has been slow. Here you are trimming yet another thorn off yet another rose. One large pile on the left slowly shifting to become a large pile on the right. Your phone is hooked up to a little speaker playing music that's irresistible to dance to.

The clanging of the bell on the door makes you squeak as you quickly look up. Your dancing form is frozen as you hope that they didn't see your booty shaking.

A young man strides forward purposefully, large eyes intently focused on your form behind the counter. Crap he totally saw you dancing.

Double crap he is super-hot.

The brunette customer is decked out in all black from his large shirt, jeans, and clunky boots. Tattoos peek out from under his sleeves on muscular arms. Small silver hoops swing from his ears from his hurried pace.

When the man reaches the counter, his hands slam down on the surface making you jump. From their position you see more tattoos inked across his hands. The grip on your cutters tightens. The type of customer that is impatient, rude, and knows better than you have frequently entered your shop, but no one has ever entered like this. You're not sure what set the brunette off as you never seen him in your shop before. You would have remembered him if he did.

"How do you say fuck you in flowers."

"...Excuse me?"

"I need a bouquet to give to a...acquaintance. One that says fuck you, and not the good fuck you. Sure, he's good looking for someone his age but ah sorry that's not the point." He runs a hand through his dark locks. The action makes it look incredibly fluffy. "The point is, I need flowers that look pretty but are a proverbial middle finger."

The only sound is the music from your phone. Body rigid despite the tune you love, you stare at him with wide eyes.

An awkward beat passes between the two of you as you try to gauge the hot madman in front of you. He seems to finally notice the death grip you got on your cutters and the confusion in your eyes.

Black boots take a couple of careful steps away from the counter. He raises his hands in front of him.

"Sorry...I'm just really frustrated at this guy. I didn't mean to scare you."

Quickly the young man bows deeply. "Please forgive me."

Ok, now you are even more shook at the situation.

Your hand loosens its grip on the cutters a bit as you wave your hands frantically.

"It's ok, please don't bow. I was just really surprised."

The man straightens slightly from his 90-degree angle and looks at you with large eyes. The intensity of them has simmered down to a sheepish look begging for forgiveness. 

Oh god, the hot man just turned into an adorable puppy.

"Just don't walk into someone's store like that again, ok."

You place the cutters on the table gently but keep your hands lingering close to the tool. The man returns to his deep bow.

"That acquaintance must be a piece of work."

Straightening, the man huffs and smiles sardonically, "Oh, you have no idea."

"Fill me in, that way I can get the appropriate 'fuck you' across."

"Ok, so I work at Kim's." At the lost look on your face he adds "That small restaurant on the other side of the neighborhood."

"Oh, I think I've seen the sign before?"

"Seriously? Their food is to die for. Sorry, I keep getting off point. Jin, he's the head chef there. His brother is on vacation and he's been missing him which causes him to act up more. The two are a force together but on their own its a whole other story."

You learn that the man in front of you is a server at Kim's as he regales tales of his boss Kim Seokjin, head chef. He misses his youngest brother Taehyung dearly, and has been acting out as a result. Dad jokes have been at an all-time high along with bickering over every little thing with is servers. Without Taehyung there, apparently no one comes close to the man named worldwide handsome in the looks department causing him to gloat about his looks more frequently as well. Many of the stories have you laughing. Leaning against the counter you're completely invested in every word the young man tells you.

"So here I am because Tae wanted me to buy his brother some flowers as a gift. As a friend it is my duty, but I feel like this is my time to get some revenge as well you know?"

You nod sagely in complete understanding. "I think I have just the ensemble of flowers for you...ummm...sorry I didn't catch your name?"

"Sorry, I really am an idiot. I'm Jeon Jungkook."

"Nice to meet you Jungkook. I'm y/n. Just give me a minute and I'll be back with some flowers."

You ponder over the flowers in your stock for a moment before carefully grabbing some to take back to the counter. Jungkook looks over your colorful assortment in curiosity.

You pick up an orange lily from the pile for Jungkook to inspect. "If you want the biggest fuck you in flower then this is it."

Next you pick up a delicate white flower. "This is orange mock, which means deceit. I thought it would be appropriate as well."

Jungkook carefully takes the flower from you, fingers brushing against yours accidentally in the process. The touch makes you jolt slightly. It goes unnoticed as the customer appraises the flower.

"Why is it called orange mock when it's white?"

Slightly still flustered you do your best to answer. "Its um well... you see the flower looks similar to orange blossoms. if you smell it, it also smells citrusy kinda, and that is why they have that name. Fake oranges."

Jungkook tilts his head down and takes a deep breath of the orange mock. He looks up with a smile partially hidden behind the flowers. You think your heart may have stopped at the sight.

"It does smell nice."

"So, um this last one," you sputter and focus on the cluster of flowers on the counter instead of the customer who's smiling with glittering eyes over your shyness, "is a zinnia. They come in many colors but they mean thinking of an absent friend. I figured your friend would appreciate part of the flowers being partly symbolic in the way he wants."

Jungkook picks up the zennia that's a mix of yellow and orange with highlights of pink. "He would like that." With all three of the flowers now in his grasp he nods. "Plus, I get to be petty now."

"Exactly. Now how would you like these wrapped?"

"You wouldn't happen to have a small vase for these would you? Something that's not too expensive?"

"I got something that'll work."

You retreat to another section of your little shop and return with a simple and small glass vase.

"Will this do?" You tilt the vase for Jungkook to see the price tag on the bottom.

"Yeah that'll be fine."

Putting the flowers in your outstretched hand, Jungkook watches in fascination as you assemble the flowers together.

"Tada! How do you like it?" You exclaim after you put in the last flower.

"It's perfect, thank you."

Making a customer satisfied has never made you happier. Quickly you scribble everything down on the receipt pad as Jungkook pulls his wallet out from his back pocket. You give him the receipt which he quickly looks over before giving you his card.

"Alright, I hope Jin likes it." You can't help but giggle. "Thank you for your purchase."

"No, thank you y/n." He bows quickly again before picking up the vase. He walks out of your shop, but not before giving you a little wave goodbye.

A few hectic days pass after that as you fulfill an order for a bridezilla's wedding. You almost forget about the ordeal until a tall handsome man with wide shoulders enters your shop. You can't help admiring the man as you cut off a long piece of ribbon to tie around a small arrangement. That is until your eyes spot a familiar looking assortment of orange and white flowers in a little glass vase. Crap, you hope he isn't here to yell at you. Double crap because he is more attractive than Jungkook mentioned, if he is who you think he is.

He notes you eyeing the flowers he holds with wide eyes. "Recognize these do you?" He places them on the counter as he leans over it slightly. "Imagine my surprise when I thought I was being gifted this beautiful bouquet," One of his hands waves at the flowers before resting on his hip and his polite smile turns into a frown, "were part a lovely message from my brother, but also an insult from that brat."

The fingers on his other hand strum against the table, adding to your anxiousness. "You can imagine how shocked and upset I was when my beloved smart brother told me the true meaning of these flowers."

"I'm sorry about that sir." You force out your customer service voice. "Our refund policy would not cover these flowers as there are no defects."

"Oh no, I'm not here for a refund."

What is up with these hot men making you so confused.

"I want my own insult flowers to give back to him."

"...Okay?"

So here you are going over different flowers with the handsome customer who you learn is indeed Jin, mister worldwide handsome himself.

The two of you decided on monkshood, a pretty purple flower that's poisonous if eaten, among a bundle of pink and white Rhododendron. Basically, it’s a batch of flowers warning Jungkook to watch his back. You make sure Jin promises to keep the monkshood away from food and he swore on his pride a chef he would never ruin food like that for someone.

"Thanks, Flower, for the flowers." Jin winks at you with a chuckle. "Come by the restaurant sometime and I'll whip you up something good. My treat."

You stand there a bit baffled as the man makes his exit.

For some reason you're not surprised when Jungkook stops by a couple days later asking for more flowers to serve as insults to his boss. The two keep coming back and forth to your shop. You find it entertaining and honestly their feud is really good for your business. Seeing the attractive men always makes your day a bit better. However, you're starting to run out of different flowers that they would consider insults. Jungkook did just buy out all the buttercups you had left to give to his somewhat childish boss.

One day while watering your plants you receive a phone call. Cradling the phone between your shoulder and you're ear you answer, "Hello, this is Spring Day how may I help you?"

"Hello, this is Kim Namjoon from Kim's restaurant. I'm sure you're familiar with the name with your two loyal customers."

You can't help the chuckle at the tone of Namjoon's voice. "Yes, very familiar." The common visits of the two have sparked a unique friendship. It hasn't helped that the attraction you felt for the younger frequent customer has turned into quite the crush.

"The arrangements you have been making for my brother and Jungkook have been displayed around the restaurant and the customers have been noting how much they like them. We would like to hire you to supply flowers for our place sets if that is something you are interested in. If so, I have some numbers ready to go over with you."

"Ok Mr. Kim, thank you for the opportunity. Let's talk some business."

After Namjoon and you discuss prices and scheduling you eventually came to a solid agreement. When the phone call is over you can't help but do a happy dance. You're so proud of how your little business is growing.

Despite Jin and Jungkook visiting your store so often, you still haven’t visited Kim’s Restaurant until now. You stand out of the classy looking restaurant with your first delivery. Assorted colors of orchids fill the box, the simple yet elegant flower you and Taehyung agreed upon would work best to start with for now.

The youngest Kim brother emailed you upon returning from his vacation. He was the one in charge of the restaurant's graphic and interior design. He often worked as a host, greeting everyone who enters with a boxy smile. One was aimed your way just now as he helps you with the door to get inside. "Great to see you y/n, come in, come in."

Enthusiastically he ushers you into the restaurant. It's early in the morning so there are no customers yet. A lovely smell wafts from the kitchen as you follow Taehyung to a table further back. The restaurant is very chic looking with black and white pictures of various sizes and settings hanging on the walls.

"These photos are all beautiful Taehyung. Are they all yours?"

"They are." Taehyung is beaming at the compliment. "I took new photos on my trip so I can't wait to get those developed. Now let's look at those flowers."

Taehyung helps you carefully take the flowers out of the box and set them on the table. Namjoon, a couple of tables over with what looks like important papers and folders, tries to come over and help, but Taehyung shoos him away. "He'll destroy the whole batch if we aren't careful y/n." He whispers playfully to you.

"I can hear you; you know that right."

Namjoon just gets Taehyung's signature smile in return. The back door opening and slamming shut drags your attention towards the back hall.

"Yah! What have I told you punks about that door, huh?" An aggravated voice yells from the kitchen.

"Sorry Yoongi," comes a triage of voices. You're excited to see Jungkook come into view along with two other men. Your favorite customer stops with wide eyes as he notices you. A smile quickly blooms on his face and he makes his way over to you excitedly.

"Y/n! You finally came."

The two other men look at the scene with interest, recognizing your name instantly as it comes out of the youngest staff member's mouth.

"Hey Jungkook, sorry it took me so long, and that it's for work. I'm an awful friend huh?"

Jungkook whips his head side to side. "No, no, your business keeps you busy. I'm just glad you're finally here."

The young server leans close to you to get a good view of the flowers on the table. The other two servers behind him share a knowing look before approaching.

"So, you're the famous y/n, we've heard a lot about you." You turn to see the attractive men bow in greeting. "I'm Jimin." Greets the grinning blonde who gets elbowed by Jungkook after his statement.

"Hiya! I'm Hoseok, nice to finally meet you." He makes a cute sound effect as he also examines the flowers. "These are really pretty."

"Thank you, and nice to meet you too." You beam at the two servers. Jungkook's hip suddenly bumps into yours softly making you look at him questioningly. He only smiles at you so you bump your hip back into his.

"Wait, is that my Flower that I hear?" A voice comes from the kitchen as a head peeks through the server's opening in the wall that also lets customers see into the kitchen. "It is!"

Junkook frowns at the nickname as Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung laugh at his disappointed face.

"Hello Jin." You call out to the man walking his way out of the kitchen. He makes his way over towards you and opens his arms for a hug which you gladly return.

"Oh, it's so cool to see you in your chef's outfit." Jin's wide shoulders fill out his black chef's jacket which is tied tightly around his thin waist. The chef's ears turn slightly red at your compliment. "Oh stop...tell me more."

"Ok, that's enough back to work." The grumpy voice calls over from the open area into the kitchen. The man with dark hair, you assume must be Yoongi, nods in greeting before disappearing.

"On my way Yoongles!" 

You swear you can fell the sigh that came from the kitchen.

"Don't think I forgot my promise to treat you to something y/n. Prepared to be blown away." The tall chef blows a kiss to you dramatically before reentering the kitchen.

"Ok guys," Namjoon claps at the servers. "Let's go over today's items." He ignores the collective groans. "You're good Taehyung and y/n?"

You nod as Taehyung answers, "All set."

Jungkook hips bump into yours as he follows the others to Namjoon's table. He smirks over his shoulder and sends you a little finger wave, which you return. Straightening your shoulders, you turn back to Taehyung and the two of you get into business mode. You figure out which arrangements you want on each table, making the displays form a slight pattern based off color. Taehyung and you now stand near the host's table, eyeing the flowers approvingly.

"This look's good y/n, thank you for the hard work."

"I'd say a lot of this is a win for you. You have a really good eye Taehyung."

Taehyung playfully puts a hand on his heart and looks at you with the cutest expression. Namjoon walks from the back and nods at the flowers approvingly as well as he passes.

"Y/n have a seat please." You follow the two Kims to Namjoon's table where you discuss further business. That is until a bowl of japchae is put down in front of you. The sight and smell of it make your mouth water.

"Compliments of the Chef." Grins Jungkook, who is now changed into his server uniform of a black button up long sleeves shirt tucked into black slacks with a sleek black belt. Not used to seeing him dressed so sharp, you can't help that your eyes look him over appreciatively.

"Sorry y/n, but Jungkook isn't on the menu."

You whip your head to look at the youngest Kim brother looking slightly affronted. Taehyung's head is resting in his hands propped up on the table and is grinning at your reaction. Taehyung winks at you while Namjoon snickers as he busies himself with his papers.

"Eat it before it gets cold y/n" prods the grinning server besides you. You pick up the chopsticks ready to bury yourself into the heavenly looking japchae and pretend you don't exist. Flavor explodes in your mouth the taste is-

"I wouldn't mind if you wanted to order me though."

You're choking on the noodles, coughing to try to clear your throat. Oh god this was how you're going to die.

Hands are hitting your back trying to help you clear the food. Luckily the food gets cleared quickly and a large glass of water is placed next to you. Quickly you gulp down the water as a large hand gently rubs up and down your back soothingly. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah..." You clear your throat for good measure. "Yeah I'll be good."

The perfect server, Jungkook refills your water quickly.

"Thanks."

"Don't kill our customer and florist now Junkook." Namjoon slightly disciplines.

"Sorry boss. Sorry about that y/n."

You see the young man look sheepish and enter a deep and apologetic bow.

"You're going to kill me one of these days Jungkook I just know it." At your teasing tone Jungkook brightens up immediately.

“If that happens, I’m sure it would be from me giving you too much love.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesiness. He’s clearly learned from the best.

“Now go on, give it a try.”

You take another bite of food, and you're grateful no one says anything as you appreciate the taste slowly.

"Tell the chef this is amazing and thank you."

"He'll be glad to hear it." With a slight bow, Jungkook heads back to the kitchen. The sound of some sort of commotion starts back there making everyone at the table shake their head.

"Sorry for the trouble y/n."

"It's no problem Namjoon. I'm quite fond of it now."

Time flies by before you know it. You're busy at Spring Day fulfilling orders and spending your time at Kim's, not all of it for business. It's a lively environment, and going there has made your days so much more enjoyable. It also made your crush on the server Jungkook a whole lot stronger and into something more real and concrete. His flirting still shocks you every time much to everyone's amusement at the restaurant.

The bells on the door clang loudly making you stop your dancing to greet your customer. A loud voice greets you back. "Hello Flower! How are you today?"

"Hey Jin. Just cutting thorns off roses...again." Seriously cutting thorns off roses seems to be a never-ending task for you but that's what you get for being a florist.

"So, what brings you in today?" You glance at the calendar tacked up to the wall. "It's not delivery day."

Jin looks at you with a mockingly offended expression. "What, so I can't just come here to visit my favorite florist?"

"I'm the only florist you know Jin."

"Fine, fine you got me. I am here for a reason."

"I told you I don't have any new revenge flowers to give you. You'll have to do repeats if you want any."

"Nope that's not the reason I'm here today, but you know you really need to get some new ones in."

You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to get to the point.

"What brings me here today is..." He taps a drum roll on the counter top. "...is love."

"Love?"

"Yes, love!"

"Ok, I'm getting a little offended with your blank stare of yours right now." Jin confesses.

You lean against the counter, careful not to smush any roses, and rest your head on the palm of your hand. "So, tell me of this love of yours."

Jin mimics your position and you feel like two kids gossiping.

"Well they are really sweet, and they get super cute when their shy. He li- I like their smile and laugh. Makes my heart flutter and all that."

"Uh-huh. What's their name?”

Jin winks at you. "Now that's a secret y/n."

"Of course it is." You can't help but roll your eyes. "So, does your lover know about your feelings and this is a gift, or are you needing to use the flowers to confess."

"The second one." Jin points finger guns at you.

"Alright, do you know what their favorite flower is." You straighten up and reach out for your inventory book.

"Uhh, what's your favorite flower."

The binder falls to the ground with a slap after your surprise caused you to fumble it.

"J-Jin," You squeak. "Are you confessing to me?"

You love Jin, but not that way. Your heart beats faster despite that, it feels like a hummingbird in your chest. You've never received a confession before.

"What, no no no, not me! Oh god I'm sorry I didn't mean for it to sound like that." He denies until he sees the look of disappointment in your face. You know you are not interested in him like that but his strong refusal makes your eyes sting.

"...Oh, that's fine. Good yeah, because I don't see you that way either." You try to play it off, but your voice doesn't sound that convincing. You bend down to pick up your binder. quickly trying to get your act together, you stay hidden a second longer behind the counter than you need to.

When you pop back up from behind the counter you keep your eyes focused on the inventory book you open up and avoid looking at the handsome man in front of you.

"So unlike revenge flowers, there are a lot more flowers that represent love."

Large hands cup your face and to pull your gaze to meet warm eyes that are worried yet reassuring.

"y/n there are so many people out there that love you. All of us at the restaurant," He pauses to wipe a stray tear with his thumb. "It may not be all romantic love, but you're part of our family now. So, don't be sad. I know there's someone who will give you the love you deserve. You got that Flower."

You nod your head in his warm grip. His hands stroke your cheeks before pulling away.

"These flowers are for...for someone else, but I know I can trust you to make something beautiful full of love."

You sniffle, but a smile is on your face now as you flip to the page you need. You’re lucky to have such a good friend. "Well let's get started on making the best confession bouquet that's going to knock their socks off."

Jin smiles at you reassuringly as the two of you look over your stock. You explain the flower meanings to him as you go along. After analyzing a variety of choices, the two of you decide to go with a simple arrangement of red tulips and orange blossoms.

At first Jin was wanting to go for the iconic roses, but you explained that something different with a similar meaning might be good by impressing the receiver with not the default choice. It could just be you and your high stack of roses you still have to dethorn, but you’re a little tired of the beautiful flower. Jin quickly relents and goes for the red tulips that you explain represents a declaration of love, and to believe the person giving the flowers is honest in their feelings.

He does question your choosing of orange blossoms as a filler flower to the bouquet over the traditional carnations, but you explain that they have a similar meaning as well and it would be something unique. It has nothing to do with the memory of Jungkook serenely smelling orange mock and looking at you in-between the delicate blossoms. Orange blossoms allude to innocence, eternal love, marriage and fruitfulness. You ignore the eyebrow wiggle Jin gives you at that last part.

"Do you want me to wrap these up for you, or just the bundle as is?"

"Wrap them up like one of your french flowers for me would you."

You roll your eyes as he laughs at his own joke.

"You should come by the restaurant tonight. It's dessert night." The chef sings to you.

You started the tradition of joining the staff at Kim's for a meal once a week after the store closes. Once in a blue moon, Jin and Yoongi go a bit over the top and make crazy beautiful fragile pieces of art they call desserts. When the rare mood strikes them to undergo the delicate process of creating such treats, the rest of the staff dresses up for the occasion to match the aesthetic food and to feel fancy once in a while.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Jin smiles fondly at you and carefully takes the flowers out of the shop, but not before giving you his signature flying kiss as goodbye.

Your shoes click on the ground as you approach Kim's. You glance at the time to make sure you weren't too early as it was dark inside. You peek inquisitively through the glass and you see Taehyung waving at you in dim lighting. After getting to know Taehyung better, you don't question things like why he would be standing alone in the dark at the front of his restaurant.

You wave back as the man rushes towards the door to let you in.

"Don't you look beautiful tonight."

"Same goes to you Taehyung."

Really Taehyung was dressed in rather laid-back clothes then what he normally wears for dessert nights. However, he's always beautiful no matter what he does which is so unfair.

Glancing around the dark restaurant, you don't see anyone else, though that could be because of the poor lighting.

"Why is it to dark in here Tae, and where is everyone?"

"They're out back. We're trying out something different this time."

He makes a dramatic bow and holds his arm out to you. Giggling at his antics, you link arms with his and he leads you through the restaurant.

Taehyung pats your arm reassuringly before unlinking his from yours as the two of you stop at a table adorned with a set of candles. With another flourish he pulls out one of the chairs at the table for you to sit at.

You look at him, to the romantic table settings, and then to the chair before hesitantly sitting down.

"Ok Tae, what is going on?"

He just grins that boxy smile of his before moving back into the kitchen, leaving you to sit anxiously at the table. Your fingers fiddle together before a figure steps out from the kitchen.

A quiet gasp escapes you as you take in the man dressed in black walking slowly your way. He's wearing his normal working attire just like Taehyung, the black button up shirt, black slacks with belt; but this time the top few buttons are undone showing you a tease of skin. The sleeves are rolled up showing off his strong tattooed arms that he knows you admire.

And he's holding a bouquet of red tulips and orange blossoms.

"J-Jungkook..I..what are you..."

You turn in your seat, about to stand before he motions you to stay sitting. He kneels in front of you and takes your hand in his. He brings it up to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he places a delicate kiss on the back of your palm.

You feel your heart trying to beat out of your chest, blood flushes to your head and it feels really hot all of a sudden. He holds the flowers for you to take without letting your hand go.

"Someone told me you like these."

You take the flowers and breathe them in. "They're perfect."

"Just like you."

Your foot kicks out at him lightly, embarrassed at his words.

"The flowers are telling you to believe me you know. Do you, do you believe in me?"

You see the earnestness in his eyes as he looks at you, remember all of those non-accidental touches as his thumb runs circles on your hands, the sweet words that come out of those perfect lips, the way your heart beats faster every time he's near you and dulls when he is gone. How you dreamed of kissing him as you lick your lips, his eyes following the movement.

"I do."

He leans forward until his lips meet yours in a soft kiss. His lips trace over yours as soft as a petal would. Shyly, you push your lips towards his, continuing the kiss. Your grip on his hands tighten as the hand with flowers seeks the table blindly as your bodies come closer together. His free hand comes to hold the back of your head, tangling itself in your locks to angle your head to deepen the kiss. You can't stop the breathy moan that escapes your lips, making Jungkook smirk into the kiss.

"Ok, time for dessert!"

The yell makes you jump, startled to remember you are not exactly alone. Jungkook groans as he breaks the kiss and glares over his shoulder.

"Jin they were having a moment!" Yells out Yoongi as Jin bustles out of the kitchen carrying two plates of dessert.

"I don't want them to have any more of a moment because I don't want my place of business to become unsanitary with their fruitfulness."

"Don't worry boss, we'll take our fruitfulness somewhere else."

"Oh no you don't, not after Yoongi and I made you these. Now sit down and eat."

You hide your face with a groan. Some things change and then some never do.

[vvitchering]

@chamomileteainabuttercup tagged me in a fanfic writing Q&A and despite my extended hiatus from writing, I guess I have enough to make this worth doing!

How many works do you have on AO3?

32, and I can't believe I have that many wow

What’s your total AO3 word count?

56,612 which is both impressive and depressing lmao

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Romancing of the Bard (The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, the only thing that surprises me about this is how many kudos it got for being so short and unfinished and not entirely that original lmao I'm also a little salty that something silly like that did SO WELL and things I actually cared a lot more about were barely noticed)

For The Joy Of It (The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, this was written for a prompt on twitter and I ended up liking it enough to turn into its own fic. I like the themes, I like the ideas, I did what I set out to do, this was a pretty good one of mine)

Bloodmoon (The Witcher, gen but shippy if you want it to be, this is a favorite of mine still, even though I'm not involved in the fandom anymore. I'm proud that I managed to translate my thoughts to writing in a way that felt satisfying and did the idea justice, which is something I struggle with all the time)

Tokens of Affection (The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, I think this was one of the first fics I wrote for the fandom and it shows, but it's a sweet little story nonetheless)

All That We See Or Seem (The Witcher, Eskel/Geralt, I'm so happy this made the list. My magnum opus. I think out of all my fics (possibly excluding Bloodmoon) this is the one I was most easily able to See in my head as I developed it. My only regret is not being at a skill level high enough to really tell this story as it was meant to be told.)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to! I definitely always respond to indepth comments that say a little more than "good story" because I really appreciate when people take the time to tell me what they liked or what worked for them. That helps me feel like I've accomplished something and points me in the right direction for my next story!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don't tend to write angst, at least not of the unresolved variety, but Howl kind of.......is both of those things.....oops lol

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don't, only because I haven't found myself in two fandoms at once that I think work well enough together to do a crossover that isn't crack. I think the closest I ever get to this is when I use elements or settings from one thing and characters from another, like HDM Daemons, or when I was obsessed with the idea of BNHA characters in a Promare setting. But no actual character crossover, no.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Nothing that made enough of an impression for me to remember. I think I get the usual "ew why does this ship even exist" crap once in a blue moon but I always ignore/delete it. I just don't have time for it.

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Ehhhhhhhhhh, not REALLY? I've tried a few times, posted a few half hearted attempts, but that shit is hard. It's one of my biggest struggles and I hate that I still can't even do it in a way that feels comfortable to me as a writer and doesn't read extremely awkward.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I know of.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Once or twice, but I'm very picky about collaborations because I know myself and I know how difficult I am to work with. I'm protective of my ideas and I'm stubborn and I find it hard to try and mesh two different points of view on a subject most of the time. I do love to discuss ideas with my friends but when it comes to actually co-writing, I find it too hard 99.9% of the time. Which isn't to say that .1% where it does work isn't super fun! It is! But I think its worked successfully literally once or twice.

What’s your all time favourite ship?

This changes almost monthly at this point LMAO right now I'm really into symbrock (venom), dincobb & bobadin (the mandalorian), and lokius (Loki) still kinda intrigues me despite the show pissing me off

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

All of them. I hate having wips, I just want them to be done, how do I make them Done???

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm good with descriptions, which I agree with. I do tend to see how I want things very clearly in my mind's eye so it's relatively easy for me to just describe what I'm seeing.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Literally everything else ;w; I'm very weak with action scenes, I always feel like my dialogue doesn't work/is clunky/is ooc, and I can't plan out or carry a plot to save my life. As much as it annoys me when pacing is messed up in media, I also can't pace things well. I either end up rushing through or dragging things out too much.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it depends. Multiple sentences worth is probably too much and ultimately unnecessary. I will definitely abandon a fic if I'm forced to keep looking for translations. But I'm a huge fan of peppering in a character's native language if it's appropriate. I did this with Trek for Spock and I do it now with Star Wars for Din and Boba. I think a word or phrase here and there is a good way to encourage immersion and bring characters to life, but there has to be a balance.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural way back in the day, but none of those made it to ao3. I think there's a few still floating around here though.........

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I have fun with every fic I sit down to write, honestly. In the moment, it feels good and fun to be working on something. It's after I'm done that I tend to get down on myself. If I HAD to pick, Bloodmoon was a lot of fun. I liked having a bigger cast of characters to write about and the action scenes in that one came so easily for once! I also enjoyed writing In Passion or in Laughter a lot because non-human POV stuff is always really interesting and fun to write. I'd like to write more Venom stuff some time.

Not gonna tag anyone because I can't keep track of who has and hasn't done these meme things so if you're a writer and you made it to the end of this and you want to, consider this me tagging you :)

[bangtan-madi]

Year of the Rabbit — Three: Hwajeon

Pairing — Jungkook x Reader, Hoseok x Yoongi, Taehyung x Jimin

Tags — best friend!Jungkook, non-idol au, flower shop au, gym au, florist!MC, gym owner!Jungkook, brother!Namjoon, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining

Genre — fluff

Word Count — 2.6k

Summary — Blame it on the storm or the secret feelings or the snow-in, but one thing is for sure: a lot can happen to two best friends when they're confined to their stores overnight. 

Warnings — language

Part — 3 / 7

A/N — I anticipate this series being 7 parts if it continues at the current pace, so it will most likely be 2 parts longer than I originally thought! :)

Previous — Next

The flower shop is one of many that line the historic street in Seoul. You're occupying one of several dozen that connect via old brick and mortar. They're all small and quaint, snuggled together in your favorite part of the city. Due to the closeness, you know your neighbors well. When facing the front of the shop, there's a supermarket on the left and a small department store on the left. Both make last-minute ideal when you're running behind on errands.

What you'd forgotten is that all the shops connect through shared attic space. It's not easy to access, but the space above each store provides useful space for storage. You've seen Yoongi tinkering with the heating units and plumbing from time to time. Jungkook pulls the panel down from the ceiling, and a retractable ladder folds out. You immediately get the impression that has also done this quite a few times before.

"I'd forgotten we even had that," you murmur. "W—Why are we going up there?"

Jungkook turns back to you with a smile. "I have a hunch. You wanna go first or me?"

Glancing up at the ladder rising into the dark and cold, you shake your head. "You first."

Your best friend laughs at your hesitation and props one foot onto the last tier of the ladder. With assured movements, he pulls himself up until he disappears into the pitch-black. 

A hand extends from above. "C'mon. Grab my hand." Though still unsure, you slip one hand out from under your cocoon of warmth and take hold. "That's it," Jungkook prides. "I got you."

Moments later, you're up in the attic space with him. His cellphone is in his other hand, and he uses it to light the way. Around you are large, clunky pieces of equipment and hundreds of feet of plumping and wires. Some good they're doing now, with the power shut off.

Jungkook taps his ear while looking at you, as if telling you to listen. "Do you hear that?"

You do as he gestures, focusing on a soft hum in the distance. "What is t—that?"

Motioning to the other side of the crowded opening, the brunet says, "Your next-door neighbor is a supermarket. When the power shut off, I'd bet you a hundred-million won that a separate, backup generator kicked in. A lot of supermarkets have them nowadays."

Hope returns to your eyes as you realize what he's saying. "What, really? So they should have power!"

"Maybe not full power, but definitely should be warmer than your place," Jungkook agrees. He tightens his hand around yours and nods to the other side of the attic, where a similar floor-door is. "Let's go find out."

Jungkook descends through the supermarket attic entrance. His steps are careful as he enters the neighboring shop. It's as dark as your shop, but the air is warmer. 

"Looks like it opens up in some sort of utility closet," he says, looking around as you scuttle down the ladder. 

"It's warmer, though." You land cautiously on your feet.

Your companion walks towards the door, and you follow behind. As he opens it, a huge grin appears on both of your faces.

Though not as illuminated as it normally is, the supermarket is covered in a dim glow. A few of the overhead lights are casting a yellow glow on the open space, and there are emergency, neon blue lights that line every walkway, shelf, doorway, and register. Add to that the white light coming from several freezers, the magenta hues from the bakery display section, the evergreen flickers from the neon signs on the windows, and the scarlet lights of the Lunar New Year decorations at every corner of the store: the entire place looks like a carnival or rainbow colors.

"This is one of those rare times I'm totally fine with you being right."

Jungkook snickers and enters the neon-glow of the supermarket. "Doesn't look like anyone's here either." He tries the front door, seeing it's locked from the outside. "Your neighbor must've closed up early for the Lunar New Year." 

"Can't blame him," you whisper. 

He turns to you with a wide, bunny-like grin and announces, "I promised you dinner, didn't I?"

"Are you serious? Wouldn't that be stealing?"

He gives a flippant wave of his hand. "I'll leave money and a tip for the trouble, don't worry. What's the alternative? We're in a supermarket. The power's out. We have no way to get home, and from the looks of it out there—." He gestures to the large windows that line the front of the store. The snow is only coming down heavier, measuring almost half a meter by now. "—we're going to be here at least for the night. So yeah, you're damn right I'm serious."

As if on cue, your stomach makes a gurgling growling sound. Jungkook cocks and eyebrow, and you offer a sheepish smile. "Maybe I am a little hungry. What're you in the mood to cook, Kook?"

"It's the Lunar New Year, and I'm not about to miss out on that. How does Tteokguk sound?" At your ecstatic nod, he skips over to you and tugs at the corners of your blanket hoodie. "Are you warm enough to go shopping with me?"

"Only if we make Hwajeon, too!"

"You and your sweets, I swear." 

"Promise?"

Jungkook places his hand over his heart, looking adorable despite his tone. "Cross my heart and hope to not burn down the supermarket."

You shrug. "Good enough for me. At least you're not my brother."

The brunet lets out a sound halfway between a groan and a sigh as he bounds away to retrieve a shopping cart from beyond the register. In his absence, you wander towards the baking section. At the end of the aisle, you spot exactly what you need. Edible flowers in all colors and varieties line the end-cap. You select several to your liking, admiring how they mirror the ones in your shop.

"Namjoon almost burnt down my gym," Jungkook says as he returns, finding you with half a dozen containers of edible flowers in your arms. "How do you even do that? There's nothing flammable!"

You place your findings in the cart, pulling the blanket tighter around you after you finish. "Hell if I know. Who can explain the god of destruction that is Kim Namjoon?"

"Where is he this year? Off exploring the world still?"

You nod, replying, "Yep. He's traveling with Seokjin still. Those two will be bachelors forever if they don't stop hopping from country to country, but they seem happiest with each other so..."

"You miss him?"

"Every day," you chuckle. "He's my brother. We fought like brats when we were younger, but he's pretty awesome now. Even if he did try to burn down your gym."

Your heart feels a little heavier at the thought of your brother. You were trying to not think about family over the Lunar New Year. With your parents still in Ilsan and your brother god knows where, you were alone in Seoul with only Elizabeth the 3rd and Jungkook to keep you company during constant work and school. Even your beloved co-workers were on vacation.

It's the first New Year you've spent by yourself. Well, mostly by yourself.

Seeing your mood shift and your eyes stare off, Jungkook walks up behind you and scoops you up into his arms. You let out a squeak of surprise but aren't able to make a response before he sets you down into the cart.

"You know the ingredients for Hwajeon?" he asks.

Shaking off those negative thoughts, you look at your best friend over your shoulder. Both of you are fully aware of what he's doing, but neither of you has a problem with it.

"Yep! Let's get flour while we're in baked goods. Then we'll need honey, salt, cinnamon powder, and sesame oil. You by chance know Tteokguk?"

Jungkook pushes the cart forward, allowing you to search the shelves from your seat in front of him. "You're lucky I helped my mom cook Tteokguk every New Year for almost fifteen years. It was my dish to make, so I have it memorized."

"Don't bore me, just steer me in the direction and tell me what to grab."

"You're awfully bossy," Jungkook murmurs.

Tossing a playful yet sharp glance at him, you turn towards the flour on the shelf. As you reach the glutinous rice variety, you ask, "What are Jimin and his boyfriend doing for the holiday, do you know?"

Jungkook gives a loud laugh as he pushes you along to the next item on your mental list. "Probably doing gross stuff on my sofa. Perks of living with your business partner and childhood friend are great. Jimin's awesome and he's always been like a brother to me. But holy shit, ever since he and Taehyung started dating, it's gotten awkward a few times. They have non-stop sex. Non. Stop. I hear it and..." He gives an involuntary shiver. "Let's just say I'd rather be stuck with you in a supermarket with only edible flowers to eat."

"Awww, how sweet. I'm honored."

"I'm serious!" he exclaims, eyes widening and hands moving with his words. "You call me the Gym Bunny, but they're the rabbits."

You turn and grab the salt that's to Jungkook's right, locking eyes with him in the process. "You jealous, Kookie?"

His throat moves as he swallows, something that doesn't slip past you. "Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

You retreat back to your seat in the cart, placing the salt to your side. "Don't know. Just thought you might've wanted to spend the Lunar New Year with someone special."

"I am. I'm with you, aren't I?"

You lower your head and pull the heated blanket around so it hides your face. The last thing you need is for him to pick up on your blush or hidden feelings. "You know what I meant. It's been a few months since you broke things off with your ex. I would've thought by now you would've met someone else."

Your best friend takes the observation in stride, offering a response of, "Just haven't met anyone that great, to be honest. I broke things off with her because I wasn't feeling it anymore. I didn't love her, and I don't think she loved me either. We're way better off as friends."

A lump forms in your throat at his words. Is that how he sees you? A friend and never anything more? You're unsure if you're comforted by this thought or horrified.

"I guess that's fair." After grabbing the sesame oil from the shelf around the corner, you turn to Jungkook and ask, "Your turn. Show me what to get for Tteokguk."

Over the next twenty minutes, the pair makes the rounds through the supermarket. By the time you've gathered the ingredients for Tteokguk and Hwajeon—along with some soju and makgeolli that make every holiday meal better—you're both hungry and dying for something to eat. 

"We're gonna need a portable stove-top," you state as Jungkook adds banana milk to the cart with a greedy and childlike giggle. "The camping variety should work. Maybe we can plug it into the generator if we can find it?"

"There may be battery-powered ones, too," he says. "You go grab a couple of saucepans and cooking utensils. I'll get the stove. Meet back here in two?"

You nod, then lift your blanket-covered arms towards the brunet. "Up, up!"

Though he rolls his eyes, Jungkook leans down and scoops you up. Your arms wrap around his neck. His strength is effortless as he lifts you out of the cart and places you on the floor. The blanket catches on your toe, causing you to become off-balance. Jungkook reaches out and places his hands on your hips to ensure you don't fall. Your arms tighten around his neck.

"Whoa, you okay?" he asks.

You turn your gaze towards him, nose almost brushing against his in the process. You hadn't realized how close you both had gotten during the near-fall. Not that you're complaining. Your heart is hammering as his eyes search yours, that breathtaking brown that makes you want to melt.

God, you love his eyes.

Jungkook's lips tug upwards in a teasing expression. "Thanks, but that's not my best feature."

You shake your head a bit, not understanding what he's said. "What?"

"You said you love my eyes. I mean, they're great, but I think my personality is my best feature."

Your stomach sinks as you realize the accidental slip of the tongue. A wave of intense heat rises from your chest, up your neck, and covers your face. You break away from Jungkook and fix the blanket so it doesn't block your feet any longer.

"Fuck, I must be tired," you snigger. "I'm sorry, that was weird. Ignore me! I'll meet you in front of the bakery in two. That's the most open space." 

Without waiting for him to respond, you grab the cart. Not another moment goes by before you speed towards the kitchen equipment section. It's on the other side of the supermarket, but that gives time to hide with your proverbial tail between your legs.

Searching for a set of pans to use is the last thing on your mind when you arrive. Quickly finding a pair that will work, you grab the nearest set of bowls, chopsticks, and cooking tools. It takes much less than two minutes, and you use the rest of the time to recover from your blunder.

"'I love your eyes'? Really?" You rest your forehead against the edge of the shelf, letting it press against the cold metal. A groan slips past your lips. "My god, I'm such a fucking moron."

You've been trying to ignore these feelings for a while. They've been creeping in over the last year. But none have been more difficult to hide than when you first returned to Korea after a time abroad. Jungkook glued to your side the moment you returned, and you'd spent more time together over the extensive holiday season than ever before. You had convinced yourself it was a silly crush before you left. When you returned, you told yourself that it was just a relief to be back in the arms of your best friend.

But these feelings haven't left, and they're tired of being pushed to the side. One way or another, you have to face the truth. And if there ever was a time more perfect to do some self-reflection, the Lunar New Year is a perfect time.

You breathe a heavy sigh and close your eyes. Deep down, you know the truth is evident. It has been for months. There's no point in kidding yourself any longer.

You've fallen in love with your best friend. Slowly but surely, over years and years of friendship, in a way you never expected: Jeon Jungkook has stolen your heart.

"Shit," you curse, shaking your head to yourself as your eyes flutter back open.

There it is. There's the truth you've been running from. Out in the open for all parts of your being to see. The next question to ask is even more difficult to face, and you gnaw your lower lip at the thought of it.

What are you doing to do about it?

Taglist — @kookie-off-his-kookie​

[davalynbaker]

Shady as F*ck [Season 1, Ep. 5]

To recap: In the previous episode, Issa found herself back in Daniel’s face despite successfully avoiding him after an awkward encounter. Lawrence is finding emotional solace in Tasha the bank teller. And I feel like it’s my duty as a citizen of the United States to remind y’all that Molly is dating Jidenna.

This episode was written by Ben Dougan and directed by Melina Matsoukas.

Issa panics about the students knowing about her “Broken Pussy” rap at open mic night. This is the catalyst for her reuniting with Daniel. I think the build-up to get Issa back alone with Daniel was a clunky transition but kids making a meme out of you rapping “Broken Pussy” is embarrassing. So we’ll go with it.

Issa spends the entire day worried about her boss finding out about it. She talks with Lawrence previously, who assures her that the kids won’t remember it. Memes are a dime a dozen. And if you spend any time on any social media platform, you’ll find yourself going along with the extremely fast pace of memeing people. Either way, these bad-ass kids don’t forget it.

Issa takes refuge in Molly to use her fancy attorney skills but this becomes a moment where Molly inserts herself back into Jered’s life to inquire about who could possibly have uploaded the video. Molly’s just using Issa’s plight as an excuse to speak to an ex that clearly she still has feelings for.

I have to say, this was the moment I found myself asking if Molly and Issa were actually as close as the show was trying to convince us but I digress…

Although Molly is calling up Jered, she’s in the middle of a situationship with Chris (aka Jidenna) and trying very hard to make an unofficial thing official. Through a very awkward exchange of talking but not out loud, Molly invites Chris to an engagement party. From what I can assume, they spent the weekend together after having their first date?

We’re only five episodes in but Molly is very desperate for this particular type of relationship that’s honestly headed nowhere. Her obsession with the man being perfect on paper is actually backfiring on her. Also, men are just dumb. And Molly’s giving them way too much.

While Molly is rekindling her friendship with Jered, Issa is now venting about her “Broken Pussy” problem with Daniel. He promises that he’ll take care of it for her...which is an empty promise to be fair because nobody is doing a modicum of the research required to find who could have shared the picture. He asks her to drop her off at the studio and they end up spending the entire day together. Issa refuses to speak up and say no to Daniel because she simply does not want to. That’s the truth of it. She kept walking around and following behind because that is exactly what she wanted to do. No amounts of freestyle rap in the car or the staff bathroom are going to ever fix that.

Lawrence has lunch with Chad who tells him that he’s getting married. It seems out of the blue because it is and because Chad is the type of man that does not hesitate to do things he feels may be the right choice, even if they might be wrong. Anyway, he asks Lawrence about Issa and marriage and Lawrence says that he’s trying to get his shit together. Chad actually offers some decent advice because he feels like Lawrence is shuffling his feet. If he really wants to be with Issa on paper they could just “get their shit together - together.”

Later on, Tasha the bank teller comes to flirt with Lawrence who politely rejects her advances but feels pretty good about himself knowing that a baddie was throwing it at him. Tasha the Bank Teller IS a baddie.

Molly spends her day getting ready for her coworker’s engagement party while Chris aka Jidenna doesn’t seem invested in actually going. Later at the party though, he swoops in to save the day. Molly is swooning by now because he claims the title of “boyfriend” but later admits that he definitely did not mean that when Molly asked him if he was serious.

The conversation basically went:

Molly: Why did you say that if you didn’t mean it? Chris: Because you needed a win.

I would never let a man, let alone a light-skin one disrespect me like this! But whatever, Molly was pushing up on him to make something out of nothing but he didn’t actually speak up and tell her not to rush into things so this isn’t entirely Molly’s fault. Sometimes, people can smell the desperation and continue to stick around despite that. It’s unhealthy and I never understood doing it as an excuse of not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings because eventually, that will happen. That’s just life. The band aid still pulls the skin no matter how fast or slow you do it.

Hurt, Molly tells him to leave and spends the rest of the night getting drunk. Instead of calling Issa, she goes to Jered’s house for some pity sex. Jered ain’t buying it and puts her ass on the couch to sleep. Jered is really too good for the Insecure universe. Shout out to Jered watching an episode of 'Conjugal Visits' with a nice cameo from Leah A. Williams who played Dolores 'Sister Mary' Clarence on The Misadventures of Awkward Black Girl.

At Daniel’s studio, Issa attempts to head out but Daniel asks her to stay and have a drink. She stays. Hmm. They reminisce a little bit. Daniel then encourages Issa to rap in the booth. It’s met with hesitation but eventually, she does and finds complete solace in it. The best thing about Daniel is that he really does bring out the best in Issa but also the absolute worst. As we eventually see.

They talk about the hows and whys of why a relationship never came to be and this leads to them being booty-butt naked in his studio having sex. Issa had to have seen this coming, no matter WHAT she says in the future episodes. Whatever the case may be… she’s done it now.

Issa goes into the bathroom to clean up and gets post-nut clarity. Yes girl, you are a dirty ass cheater! One of my favorite songs (St. Beauty’s “Borders”) plays as she has the walk of supreme shame. I mean, she cheated. That shit’s shameful.

My final thought is a controversial one, I liked that the episode ended with Issa cheating. Mainly because I love mess but also because so often, we don’t see female characters make terrible ass decisions like this. As someone who is working on a novel where the female protagonist cheats on her spouse, I really spent years fighting with the decision because I was afraid of how readers would receive her.

It can’t be stated enough that genuinely written characters are like real people. They fuck up. They make really bad choices that come to bite them in the ass later. It was a risky choice, I’m sure but I think Issa Rae and the writers room did something really good here. It speaks about Issa as a person and her relationship with Lawrence, which is honestly still going nowhere at this point. And her inability to listen (based on Molly’s advice falling on deaf ears) when she wants to do something even if it’s a bad decision. It builds characters. And yes, even when the character chooses not to listen to good advice.

Plus, she got hers. And I’ll cheer for that.

Not the cheating though.

[keyofjetwolf]

Bonus Question Answers! (anime heat 3)

I asked a silly question! You gave me incredible answers. SO VERY MANY INCREDIBLE ANSWERS. If yours is listed below, you’ve earned an entry in a random draw to win a GIFTENING liveblog OF YOUR CHOICE

SURPRISE EVERYONE WHO ANSWERED THIS ONE GETS AN ENTRY (with extra entry if you pulled a specific line). This has been such a struggle for me for the past ... you know, million years or something, and each of you made me feel so good, thank you. ♥

—

Q: This is reaching back into the memory a bit, I know, but what's your favourite of my fanfic? (BONUS BONUS ENTRY if you pull a specific line!)

*  i cannot remember a specific line off the top of my head but i remember the post-S series dealing with usagi's trauma from pharaoh 90 (sound of silence?) was a gut punch and a half --  anewconstellation

~~

* "Blue shirt. Pearl buttons." I think this was the first time I read you writing the Outers, particularly Neptune and Uranus, and, uh, holy shit. Absolutely note-perfect dialogue and dynamic, particularly for that period of Sailor Moon S when Michiru and Haruka used intimacy of speech and gesture as an instrument of distancing and obfuscation (of their goals to the Inners, of their hearts to themselves and to each other, of the heli-pad to the staff at Mugen Academy, etc). It was so clear, and so clearly *them* that I could actually hear the intonations of their respective seiyuu. And then to deploy such spot-on character elements in combination with the stakes and the maturity the anime never reached for, my WORD, are you trying to kill me??? The pacing, the restraint! What an absolute gift. You're a wonder. (also your drabbles are fuckin peerless, and the BTL concept is such a clever series framework)  -- @rasiqra-revulva​

~~

*  This was so hard to pick from, but I finally settled on "Cause and Affect" - it's such a heartbreaking story, but the juxtaposition between the clinical lines of information from the computer to the memories Ami is dealing with to the horror of the visuals around her... it's so bright and sharp and PRESENT.  It keeps me in the story, that mix of tones and feelings.  And the final line?  Perfection.  "Number of regrets: none"  What an amazing take on Ami and how she processes information and how she deals with the situation she is in.  I still get chills up my back when I read the story.  -- @amberlilly​

~~

*  I love your Between the Lines series, it's how I found your Tumblr and liveblogs back in the day -- @amboato​

~~

*  Author Alert.  “So never, ever, going to live this down.” -- @crunchbuttsteak​

~~

*  "Of her word" quote "But for all that, it remained sand. Rei erased it with one swipe."  -- Dei

~~

*  Between The Lines. Adding further character/emotional depth to canon is YES PLZ. I really liked the whole idea of Usagi having trauma post-Pharaoh 90 and all the chapters that hit on that. On a less serious note Chibs' circus-related PTSD and freaking out when Hotaru wants to go to the circus kills me every time. ("But your precious dreams Hotaru-chan!")  -- forgottenfae

~~

*  This is probably the obvious choice, but "The Sounds of The Silence" has haunted me in all the best ways since I first read it. The way you write Rei, Usagi, and Rei and Usagi hits me right in the heart every time. This particular fic, with Usagi so traumatized, and Rei being as soft and gentle as Usagi needs, will always stick with me. I pulled up the fic to try and narrow down a single line, and ultimately there's no real debate. "She would never stop trying to do more, but for now, she simply did this." That line is, at its core, the essence of Rei Hino. And it is perfection.  -- gatorsandglitter

~~

*  I don't expect this to win at all, just sharing,, but I just super fondly remembered the goggles and all the amazing content, meta, and fic those inspired, both from you and others  -- @goosebytrade

~~

*  "You Win or You Die"  my favorite line is "She and Rei WOULD have The Moment, they WOULD get their thousand years of bliss, and they WOULD be making out after all this was over. Like, SO HARD."  -- @i-needa-nap-please

~~

*  I'm always really bad at answering questions like this because my mind has pretty much become a goldfish in my old age and I have a hard time remembering specific fics; it all sort of starts to jumble up in my brain and things get lost. But I have always loved reading your writing, it's what got me onto this godforsaken website in the first place -- it was just before Crystal dropped, and we were all foolishly full of hope and excitement, and you were going through the Moon Pride video and waxing poetic about the FRIENDSHIPS and I was like, "YES! Finally! Someone who understands why I love this stupid kids' show!" I think I sent you an ask saying this before, (but who knows if you ever got it, Tumblrs being what they are - indifferent) but I tried reading fanfic and even published novels based on properties, like the Buffy novels and Star Trek and Star Wars novels, for a long time, and mostly found it frustrating and annoying and just... wrong. It always had this awkwardness and clunkiness to it that didn't do anything for me and just constantly screamed "THIS IS A FANFIC IT IS NOT REAL WRITING" at me. Didn't like it. But, I liked yours. Yours didn't feel awkward or clunky. You have never written any sentences like, "Rei watched the blonde stand up" where "the blonde" is Minako, and I don't know why fanfic writers think that calling characters "the blonde" or "the redhead" or whatever is sexy or cute but it ain't (sorry, pet peeve tangent). So, when you were writing stuff more, I would read it like it was going out of style, and you led me to Doc's writing, which had the same natural, "this is real writing" quality, and I loved hers, too. Anyway, my favorites of yours have always been the Between the Lines stuff. I just love the "hidden" moments that we didn't get to see. The Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead bits of Sailor Moon (speaking of fanfic that actually works) that bring so much depth to characters we know and love already or to characters we see only briefly. Also, the Shadow Senshi, because FUCK. Just... Kill Me. In any event, I know that writing has been difficult for you of late, and I know how that feels, so I hope that people who are actually able to answer this question have given you some places to go and draw strength from so that it can become part of your life again. TBH, I've been using the bonus questions on your Giftening surveys and Doc's 8 Days surveys as an excuse to try doing some small bits of quick, no pressure, nobody's gonna see it unless you or Doc actually LIKE it, don't think about it writing, and it has been helpful. I hope you can find something that gives you the same opportunity. Now that I've written you a novel that doesn't even answer the question you asked (goldfish, remember? *sigh*), have a gorgeous Tuesday!  -- @incorrecttact

~~

*  The one with Pluto and Queen Serenity, where Serenity is selfish in a very Usagi way, but her arrogance combined with that selfishness makes it a fatal flaw? I liked that one a lot. -- Jules

~~

*  the bit you wrote to 'fill in' a gap for why during r did mamoru act like a distant jerk. My favourite parts were Rei coming to see the same dream, and despite being the one to have the biggest reason to believe in these kinds of prophetic visions, Rei still doesn't believe fate is set in stone. -- just... a fan. a well-baked one

~~

*  Make It To New Year's -- @kaleidodreams

~~

*  ahhh, where is a link to all of your fanfic? It's the series you started after S, with Rei comforting Usagi, because like you I was let down by the fact that they never followed up on what Usagi saw, or even how she dealt, with the end of S. runner up: the one where Usagi is about to give birth because everything you write with Rei and Usagi is amazing. -- kari

~~

*  There was a drabble/draft/something that you used one of my prompts for, and I prompted you with Usagi and Rei, but you did it from Luna's perspective and THAT WAS SO UNEXPECTED and it turned out SO GOOD cause like!!!!!! You made Sailor Moon both someone Luna cares for, because still the legacy of the moon, and someone utterly discouraging for her because *this should not be*, and wow what a way to make it both about Usagi herself and about her powers.  -- katrani

~~

*  I love the btl fics, they fill in the missing gaps, add depth to the story, and sometimes smooth over things (SuperS) when canon is just...blah. One line I really liked was: “I was listening, at first, but then I started thinking about how hungry I was, and how a pork bun would be really good right now, and then I wondered what makes a thing a bun, and like, if you put ANYTHING in a bun, does it become a Thing-Bun, so could you make a bun out of another bun and would it be a Bun Bun, and wouldn’t that be the greatest thing to– Rei?” It's a great run-on, stream of thought sentence that just really catches Usagi's voice, is hilarious, and such a natural progression. -- @kumeko

~~

*  “HUG,” Usagi demanded again, because dammit, she’d been promised a hug and SOMEONE was going to deliver. (The one where Michiru has the hiccups. Because it's fun HaruMichi stuff, because it weaponises Usagi in a useful way, because it manages to (gently) make fun of both perfect!Michiru and saint!Usagi without being mean to either character, and also because I get hiccups a lot and I haaaaate them.) -- nerdy-flutterings

~~

*  I can't remember a specific fic, but I LOVE your Shadow Senshi headcanons and they're the main reason I started writing my own Shadow Senshi stories. -- @notesfromtheidiotbox

~~

*  The Figuarts saga is the Sailor Moon fic I never knew I needed -- Raye

~~

*  Special Delivery is a delight. So much Rei Certainty (that ends up being misplaced). So much Usagi being The Most Usagi About Pregnancy. So much Comedic Hijinks, because why the hell WOULDN’T ‘the Senshi get blindsided when Usagi goes into labor’ end up going full screwball? There’s a lot of great lines there (Rei’s theory about Chibs taking control of the Gate of Time and manipulating things is fantastic, as is the ending,) but my favorite is definitely “Rei Hino if I give birth to my daughter on the side of the road I swear I will go back in time and tear all the pages out of your favorite coloring book! [...] I’ll break the crayons too, Rei-chan!” Delightfully specific and childish, especially since Usagi sticks with it, and that particular brand of comic specificity is definitely a highlight of yours. -- Regalli

~~

*  Fire on Mountain!!! When I got to “Her voice was deeper than most expected when facing the certainty of her. It was rough, sandpaper running over cherry. She’d been a singer, once. Nobody would have believed her.” I was like oh. OH! -- Sasha

~~

*  My favorite of your fanfic, one one of the first I read is 'Hard to Break'. And my absolute favorite line is Usagi's panic when Minako tries to smoke: "Minako who was almost certainly dying, the cigarette had spread its evil and killed her instantly oh god."  -- @shavedjudomonkey

~~

*  Tonight Ami would grieve, and wish she understood why.'  This Between the Lines about Ami getting her mini computer both haunts me and brings tears to my eyes.  -- @shonasof

~~

*  I can't remember the title, but it's the one where Minako realizes that Rei's been writing Sailor V fanfic under the name Red Bow -- Somariel

~~

*  You would think Mako-chan's Happy Ending, but nope, this one goes to Hard to Break (although I had to look up the exact name.) This thing is filled with such great lines. How am I supposed to pick out one? "[Watch out, boys,]" Minako said in smooth and entirely unnecessary English. "[Lady Super Cool is on the prowl.]" -- Ultrace

~~

*  I forget the title, but it's the 'last senshi standing' fic where Ami is reflecting on the battle that took the others from her. Detatched and cold as she analyzes Rei Minako and Mako and finally Usagi's death with a medical efficiency, going through her Visors readout and then reflecting that the clinical words were nothing compared to what she'd actually seen. following up the method of death of the senshi with a statistic in relation to her friendship with the girl. Number of milkshakes shared, number of conversations lasting well into the night, number of hugs, number of smiles that brightened the darkest of moods. Describing how Rei's heart was pulped in a monster's grip, Minako's once beautiful face smashed against the rocks, Mako's lightning that outlived its mistress as she and Usagi ran off, and then finally that one last attempt to protect Usagi failing as 'Cervical Fracture' flashes on her visor. And From there she just... accepts death. sitting beside where Usagi had fallen and waiting for the end. it's dark af but it's the first one that always comes to mind when i think about ur fics :>  -- Vega

~~

*  I am extremely predictable here with two of my choices, as you know that I am obsessed with Fire on the Mountain and Blue Shirt, two things you wrote when you "definitely couldn't write" (Sidenote: My new year's resolution is to be harder on your about writing) We all know why I love blue shirt, it's basically an underhand pitch to the face for me, but Fire on the Mountain has a quality of regret and longing that I really connected with, something that really struck me in a way that was powerful. It's different from a lot of your inners work, and I think about Mina posing as Rei, in her disguise magic in the woods, and all the reasons why, fairly often. Something that MAY come as a surprise to you, is I really wish we got more ofyour overwatch stuff, and maybe I'll just keep asking for this for my birthday for the rest of our natural lives, but I think of like, the one you wrote on 7/14/20, with Pharah longing to have a man to shoot in the face because that would be easier than the emotions around whatever's going on with her, and I'm utterly tantalized. And I loved that hurt/comfort you wrote for me, where Pharah had this single minded drive to find out what had happened to Angela, and Tracer's trying to, well, comfort her, on some level, and the way you described Pharah's "animal cry" was FANTASTIC, and as always I am deeply jealous of your Tracer voice and IF YOU WOULD WRITE IT MORE IT WOULD HELP ME. -- WRITE, BITCH.

~~

*  The one were Hotaru confronted Michiru and Haruka about how they had tried to kill her in order to stop the Silence. Such a good little moment =w= -- zorrito

~~

AND THEN THESE WERE UNSIGNED SAD FACE

*  Chosen. I like your Overwatch stuff but Chosen was a goddamn masterpiece.

*  Operation: Heart Angels. Senshi going after Mamoru for his bullshit was something I didn't know I needed.

*  The entirety of Beggars Would Ride, including every single line of Anya's dialogue.

—

I’ll be drawing for the bonus liveblog around the start of THE GIFTENING 2020 (currently looking to be Monday, 11 January 2021). Each bonus question is another chance to earn an entry! I CAN ABSOLUTELY AND SHAMELESSLY BE BOUGHT.

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 4

AO3

Beta reader for this chapter was @thesnadger. Go look at her stuff!

-

It's time for some field work.

Martin mentions the echoing problem.

Martin was already far enough down the cliff side that even if they’d noticed he’d gone, it would be too late to easily catch up to him.

The three researchers had gathered in a circle to view the distorted footage together, throwing out a mixture of theory and expletives as they stood on the sidewalk. Tim was running his fingers through his hair, enthusiasm quashing any signs of dizziness. Sasha had taken back the camcorder, looking for any details that might’ve escaped her. The irritation that had shrouded Jon’s features the whole day had left and been replaced by something looking like curiosity as he stared at the screen. This had left Martin, still standing at the end of the road, to see himself out quietly.

The further he went, the more the excitement of the moment gave way to a thick dread.

“You need this job. You need this job. You need this job,” Martin mumbled, rubbing his upper arms. The rain had left for a time, but he could feel his skin prickling in the cold and knew it would return soon. “So it’s a weird building. It was fine before, wasn’t it? Learning it was a weird thing the whole time doesn’t change anything. You can handle a bit more weirdness. It’s fine. And you have experts! People who know this stuff! They’ll take care of everything, and it’ll all be fine.”

About halfway down, a rush of vertigo hit Martin like a truck. He veered right, feet sliding in the mud, and grabbed hold of a tree until the wave passed. Sneering back at the path behind him, back at a lighthouse that was now hidden from view, Martin choked out, “What, up there isn’t enough now? I have to deal with it when I can’t even see it?” He scratched his head with both hands in frustration and started walking at his normal pace.

“It’s fine. You’ll get home on flat ground. You’ll eat something. You’ll get up tomorrow and only walk up to finish the list at the lighthouse and pick up groceries. Then you’ll do the list on Sunday and nothing else! Just the rest of the weekend off!”

His frantic personal reassurances continued all the way down, until he caught sight of home and forced his ramblings to a halt. “Just keep calm for Mum and get through the night. You can do that at least.”

Martin entered his home, keeping the door from creaking too much behind him. The TV was on and his mother’s eyes were closed. Walking over, he gently shook her shoulder, and as she opened her eyes, the complaint was already forming on her lips.

“You know I hate to be shaken awake.”

“Yes, Mum. I’m gonna make dinner if there’s anything you’d like.”

“I don’t have a preference. Just pick something and leave me be.”

“Okay, Mum.” So he did, scraping together what he could for omelettes. Nothing burnt, and it was tastier than the night before, so he let a small bit of pride slip into his demeanor. His mother said nothing and ate what was in front of her. Afterwards, Martin cleaned the dishes and left them on the rack, turning to help his mother up the stairs.

“I wish to go outside for a moment,” she said, still sitting at the dining room table. Martin could tell without looking out the window that the rain had picked back up again.

“Are you sure? I think the weather tomorrow-”

“Take me outside, Martin.” The quick clip to her voice silenced any argument, and Martin went to retrieve her coat. Keeping his arm out for her to take, Martin supported his mother out the front door, keeping them both under the porch overhang. She took her hand off his arm but left it hovering there for safety in the harsh evening wind.

Martin’s eyes began to water as soon as the sea breeze hit them, but he stood firm as his mother breathed in, held, and out. In, held, and out, again and again, until finally she said, with a weariness that betrayed her stony expression, “I’m ready.”

The walk was slow to her room, and after she was in her bed and he began to close the door, he heard her say, “Goodnight, Martin.”

Martin smiled and kept his face hidden behind the door. There was no shake in his voice as he responded, “Goodnight, Mum.”

Once he made it to his own room, he let out a large breath. He gently closed his bedroom door, changed into pyjamas, and climbed into bed, leaving his old notebook and lantern untouched. In his attempts to get comfortable, he tossed and twisted, the cold from outside still sticking to his feet, but his mind wouldn’t rest until all the day’s mistakes were accounted for.

He should’ve at least said goodbye.

-

The sun was still creeping over the horizon when Martin set out up the path to town. The fog settled in thick around him, and the ground was still muddy and hard to walk on. Nevertheless, he made it to the more solid road without incident, supernatural or otherwise. He went over the numbers in his head, counting the items he needed and comparing his budget for meals this week. It had been nice these last few months, having a constant salary rather than figuring out how many shifts he could reasonably take. The math at this point was more about what he’d like to save each day rather than figuring out what he could afford.

The trip to the store would be quick if he did his math right. But first, he made it to the stone steps of the lighthouse, looked up, and found that the lights were already on. He grimaced, wiped the look off his face, and went inside as casually as he could.

At the table was Jon, reading something intently on a clunky laptop. The sound of his tapping knuckles on the tabletop rang through the building, and just like the night before, Jon’s face wasn’t one of impatience. There was a light in his eyes as they scanned for something on the screen, and Martin, despite himself, stayed very still to look at Jon in mild fascination. He then shook his head and did his best to walk as if his heart weren’t pounding in his chest. Before he knew it, he had made it to the kitchen without any sign Jon had noticed.

He was in the kitchen. Shit. He had walked there out of habit.

Martin looked around a bit before rubbing his face at his own ridiculous behavior. This was his place of work, and he had come to do his job. What was the point of sneaking around? He walked to the stove, filled the kettle, and started making himself some tea, relaxing with the familiar motions. As he waited, he could hear the echoes of Jon’s typing. Was that also a weird thing? Did sound work like that?

The water began to boil and he prepared his cup, but before stepping out, his eye caught one of the mugs drying on the rack from yesterday. Tapping his foot, he took the mug and prepared a second cup of tea with what he thought was a good enough ratio. If his Mum liked it, it would probably work for anyone. With as much confidence as he could have, he carried both cups out and quietly set the second down on the table. Jon jumped and looked first at the mug and then up at Martin.

“How long have you been here?” Jon asked, confused.

“Just got here a bit ago. I still need to take care of upstairs on the weekends.”

Jon nodded. “I’m… surprised you’d still come in after yesterday,” he said slowly, not yet touching the mug. “Learning your workplace may be haunted or, well, something of that nature.”

“Yeah, well. It’s the same as it was before right? And the pay’s the same,” Martin said. He chewed on the inside of his cheek and continued, forcing the words out, “Anyway, I meant to ask, do you still need that print job from yesterday? Sorry about that, it completely slipped my mind!” Jon’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“No, no, I took care of it. Tim reminded me that you are not in fact our assistant, so I won’t be asking you for anything else.”

“Oh. Good! Good. Sorry, again.” Martin willed himself to start moving toward the staircase but couldn’t move, letting an awkward silence fill the space between them. Before he could stop himself, Martin added, “Um, sorry, there’s one more thing.” Martin tapped his cup a few times, looking down into his tea. Jon glanced back at his computer for a moment, the irritation beginning to creep across his face.

“Okay, go on then.”

“Sure! Right. I wanted to tell you that, since you’re all doing what looks to be serious research with maybe, I dunno, confidentiality stuff, it would be good for you to know that, well,” Martin drummed his fingers on the cup. “Sound travels really easily, in here I mean. Even whispers make it all over the place. Could be another thing that’s up with the building, could just be the acoustics, but either way, figured it would be good information to share now that it’s confirmed this place is capital-s Strange.”

“I’ll keep it in-” Jon, who had been slowly turning his gaze back to his laptop during Martin’s short speech, froze. He closed his eyes, and his mouth stretched into a pained frown. “You heard what I said yesterday. After we came downstairs.”

“It’s not a big deal! You were right, about some things at least. I’m a forgetful person. It’s why I’m better at jobs like this.”

“Listen-”

“It’s really fine. Just, y’know, keep the acoustics in mind. I’m, um-” Martin’s feet finally got to moving under his command and he headed toward the stairs. “I gotta get my work done upstairs.” His pace was quick, rounding the steps past the point where he could no longer see the researcher fail to find words. Martin would’ve felt some satisfaction if the other man hadn’t looked so genuinely remorseful about the whole thing.

The trip up was quick and uneventful, relatively speaking, and Martin let himself look out the windows for a bit after his list was complete. For once, there was an actual view of the sea in the morning light. Now that Martin had been forced to think on it, he could tell the sea looked wrong, somehow. Further off, maybe? Against his better judgment, he pressed his face against the glass and looked down.

A moment later, he was looking up at the ceiling, the back of his skull throbbing in pain. He pressed into his eyes with the heel of his hands and took in a shaky breath. “It’s still good money. Just don’t look down when the sky looks like that. Maybe don’t look down or out at all. Simple enough, even for you.” For a moment he just lay there, squeezing his eyes shut and hoping that maybe he would wake up at home, having fallen out of bed.

No such luck. Standing up, Martin rubbed the back of his now aching head and started a careful, gradual walk down, his hand firmly gripping the rail. Yes, his place of work was strange. That didn’t mean it was looking to hurt anyone, right? Martin had worked there for months, and Peter never seemed to be bothered by it after all the years he’d owned the place. Perhaps, if he kept his head down, the lighthouse would just continue to function as it always had.

Making him so dizzy that he blacked out wasn’t a great sign, though. Even he could admit that.

Against what he had been hoping for, Jon had not left in the time it took for Martin to return downstairs. This time, Jon noticed him immediately as he came into view and waited for Martin to make it to the bottom before clearing his throat. “Martin, if you’ll wait a moment.”

Martin scratched his neck and continued walking toward the door. “Sorry, I really have to go. Lots of errands, that sort of thing.”

“It won’t take long-” Jon was interrupted by the sound of the front door swinging open.

“Hey boss! Grabbed some snacks for the workday since I figured you wouldn’t think of it beforehand. Martin! Where did you run off to yesterday?” Tim said, and he set a paper bag full of what looked like several bags of crisps and other convenient store grade junk food. “Left just as things got exciting.” Martin, happy for the distraction from whatever Jon was attempting to do, smiled and waved, still heading toward the door.

“Hi, Tim. Yeah, sorry about that. Wanted to get dinner started at home and your work is a bit over my head.”

“And all over your workplace, apparently.” Tim grinned and Martin forced what he hoped was a convincing laugh.

“Hey, if it pays the bills!” Martin winced at his own inane comment and tried to excuse himself, which was when Sasha came through the door, carrying her own set of bags. “Oh, sorry, didn’t-”

“Good timing!” Sasha ducked past him and dumped her things onto one of the chairs. “After reviewing some things last night, it looks like we’ll be wanting to go about town a bit and talk to some locals, get a feel for some of the history of this place.”

Tim chimed in, “Gotta check if anyone died mysteriously or placed a vengeful curse on the town fifty years ago, things like that.”

“You mentioned yesterday that you’d be able to point us in some good directions?” She looked up with expectation, she and Tim both, fixing Martin to the ground. From behind the table, Jon was clearly frustrated but seemed to have given up on his line of conversation.

“Sure, I’m free.” Martin wanted to slap himself. “What do you need?”

-

In no time at all, Martin somehow found himself walking the group through town, passing by the grocery store with a pang of regret. It was still mid-morning, but time seemed to be moving both much too slow and faster than he could handle.

“I think your best option would be Ms. Peterson, the florist. She’s lived here as long as I can remember and loves to talk about old times and all that.” Martin led the three researchers down the street, feeling more at ease. He could talk to old folks in town just fine, and they loved going on about weird old things. It all checked out. “I think I mentioned her when I talked about my incident? Anyway, a really lovely woman.”

Martin found himself chattering, fielding possible questions from Sasha and Tim that ranged from serious queries like “Has your family had close encounters with the Lukas family” to things like “How many undead have you seen at the local grocery store”, respectively. Jon lugged the tape recorder in a bag slung over his shoulder and elected to remain silent.

Ms. Peterson’s place was a standard flower shop, full of shelves with decorative pots and cutesy gardening supplies. When the group stepped inside, a little bell on the door summoned a woman in her mid-70s carrying an empty vase.

“Oh! Hello, Martin. How are you, dear?” Ms. Peterson asked, setting the vase down on the front counter. “And your mother? How has she been doing?”

“We’re both doing all right. The weather’s been bad for her joints, but nothing new, thankfully. The flowers you sent were very much appreciated.” Ms. Peterson smiled warmly and then looked behind him.

“Some friends of yours?”

“Actually, I was wondering if you could help them, Ms. Peterson. They’ve come from out of town to ask about some local history and I immediately thought of you.”

“Yes, of course, what would you like to know?’

Sasha took over from there, getting the necessary permissions while Jon set up the tape recorder. Martin heard some comment about how old the thing was, followed by an almost identical response from Jon as the day before. Martin held back any laughter at Jon’s dry expression, but he couldn’t stop his mouth from twitching.

The statement started off with familiar territory to Martin: the lighthouse had been there since Ms. Peterson had been a child. She had never been inside it, but like many people in town, her mother had worked for the Lukas family for a long time and had gone in once.

“She might’ve been dropping an order off? Oh, I don’t remember anymore, but anyway, she had gone to see one of the Lukas family for matters of business. I was young but I remember her coming home that night, shaking terribly. Stayed in bed for at least two days afterwards and kept either my sister or myself by her side the whole time. It passed, like most things, but it was terribly frightening for all of us.”

“Did she ever tell you what happened?” Jon asked, his tone much gentler than Martin had been accustomed to.

“No, though we never tried to ask her directly. And it wasn’t as if you could peek inside the building with just the tiny little window on the door. I have to say,” Ms. Peterson turned toward Martin. “I was a little concerned about you working there. I even told your mother so when you first started.” Martin felt the heat rush to his cheeks. He looked at Sasha, who just gave a sign to be quiet.

“Ms. Peterson, thank you so much for your statement. Is there anything else related that you think would be helpful to us?” Sasha adjusted herself, ready to give Jon the signal to end the recording.

“Hm, no, I don’t think so. And please excuse me for the last part. I know it’s not much related to history.” Sasha smiled at her and nodded to Jon.

“End recording.” The tape clicked off, and Ms. Peterson turned back to smile at Martin.

“Don’t do too much to make your mother worry, all right?”

“Of course.” Martin smiled back, and Ms. Peterson returned to her work. Once outside, Martin walked toward the next destination, blatantly ignoring any curious looks from his companions.

The next two people were unhelpful for a variety of reasons, including a much stronger questioning of the old tape recorder set up (“Martin, what kind of fringe bullshit are you bringing in here?”) and bad timing that would have to be made up for later. After running around town to find both of them, this left Martin with one more person on his mental list, and then he could finally get groceries before his mother was ready for lunch.

The lack of success in the next two individuals had put a damper on the spirits after Ms. Peterson’s interesting account, and he could feel it dragging on everyone, himself included. And as far as he was concerned, time was running short for his liking.

“I have other people in mind that I can tell you about, but I really need to run some errands today,” Martin said in a sorry tone.

“That’s fine. We can do it another day.” Sasha stretched her arms back to crack her shoulders. “Thanks for leading us around.”

“Yeah, love hearing about how our boss’ boss’ family strikes fear into the hearts of innocent florists,” Tim said, leaning an elbow on Sasha’s shoulder. “We’ll be seeing you tomorrow, then? More running around town, bothering the elderly?”

“Sure, sounds good.” Martin mentally kicked himself. There went his Sunday. “Have a good rest of your day, then.” He waved stiffly and escaped down the street toward the grocery store, where he finally let himself rest for a moment.

Checking his watch, he had just enough time to get his chore done before it would seem strange to his mother, who was accustomed to his being gone for at least part of the day. The actual task didn’t take long, as he had expected. It turned out some of his coupons had expired, costing him some time in juggling worthy expenses, but the trip had left him much more satisfied than he had been.

Even with the disappointment of some of his ideas, the morning hadn’t been bad. Besides the very beginning, it was nice to walk around with people and talk to some folks around town, and in regards to the beginning, it wasn’t so terrible. A bit awkward, yes, but it seemed like he and Jon would at least be able to work around each other for the next week. If Jon had some words to say, he now knew how to say them in a way where Martin didn’t have to hear them.

With the lighthouse behind him and an armful of groceries, Martin was feeling much better, and when he rounded the corner that would lead him on the road home, Jon stood at the edge, arms crossed and eyes darting around, and before Martin could backtrack, it was too late.

“Martin,” Jon said, as if he were letting go of a held breath. “Sorry for cornering you here. I just wanted to finish our earlier conversation and didn’t think waiting a whole day would be good for it.” Martin stared at the shorter man in shock. Cornered was one way to put it, Martin thought to himself, shifting the bag in his arm.

“It’s not really a good time? I need to get back and-”

“I just need you to listen. Please.” Martin felt pinned by Jon’s intense stare. He gaped for a bit as he searched for an excuse, and found none. So he nodded.

“I would like to apologize for yesterday. I was unprofessional and let my own stress and irritation affect my behavior.” Jon seemed to struggle with where to put his hands and settled for re-crossing them in front of his chest. “We were as surprised as you were at the situation. I think Elias may be the only person who actually knows what’s going on, but that’s beside the point. The truth is, we were sent here during a project I was very invested in, and I was being childish about the whole thing. I hope you can forgive me for it. You’ve been very helpful, and I hope we can all continue working to solve whatever it is that’s going on in your workplace and my boss’ head.”

Jon stopped and looked at Martin as if he had helped lift a weight off his shoulders. In strong contrast to the day before, he had a nervous and pointedly not sardonic smile on his face that Martin found incredibly endearing.

Between the obvious stress and the very nice smile, Martin faced the inevitable realization that Jon was, unfortunately, his type.

Feeling his tongue was now far too big for his mouth, Martin could only say, “Yeah, of course! Glad to be working with you.”

[helaintoloki]

Season of the Witch | Michael Langdon

chapter ten: Rhiannon

masterlist

pairing: Michael Langdon x witch!reader

warnings: language, angst, violence, graphic descriptions, adult content, deception, toxic relationships, abuse, death, witchcraft, satanism and all that other good ahs stuff

notes: this chapter contains smut👺 

The return of Michael Langdon and Misty Day had led to the literal fall of Cordelia Goode, the reigning supreme collapsing in weakness as Michael rose to power. The alpha. The word made y/n nauseous, and she could not force herself to so much as look at him as she helped carry her mother to the nearest couch to rest.

“You’ve gotten so big,” Misty had cooed tearfully, hands cradling y/n’s face as she observed every change, every new detail and alteration her body had gone through. “I remember when you were just a little lily, and now you’re all grown.”

“I get that a lot,” y/n had laughed, tears falling down her face. It seemed as if her coven was growing, going through a Renaissance of power and strength and unity. But at what cost? “I’m so happy you’re back. We need you now more than ever.”

“Oh, honey,” Misty whispered, thumbs gently wiping away the young witch’s tears. “Whatever happens next, stay away from that boy.”

And now y/n sits at the bottom of the stairway, elbows resting on her thighs and chin held in the palms of her hands with Binx sleeping beside her as she listens to the White Witch serenade Misty, a gift to the girl who’d been through hell. Literally.

Cordelia and Madison had disappeared, leaving the girl to her own devices. Y/N could feel Michael staring at her from the top balcony, his hard gaze making her feel small and pathetic, her strength and independency shadowed by his raw power and intent. Her mind still could not wrap around the fact that her incantation had failed. Y/N had never failed in her life, not when it came to witchcraft. So why now?

“Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night, and wouldn’t you love to love her?” Stevie’s melodic voice echoes, and y/n silently hands her cat son to Myrtle as she rises from her seat and ascends up the stairs towards the cause of her misfortune and failure.

“Takes to the sky like a bird in flight, and who will be her lover?”

“I thought you’d be happier for me,” his voice sounds, startling y/n. She turns to find him standing in the dimly lit hallway, a look of mock hurt on his face. “Especially since I still managed to pass the tests despite you trying to poison me.”

“You knew?” She asks, eyes wide and bewildered.

“You really are dumber than I thought,” Michael chuckles, stepping closer. She doesn’t feel herself begin to take steps back, not until her back hits the wall and they’re pressed chest to chest, Michael staring down at her with an intensity so great she has to look away. “But you are your mother’s daughter.”

“All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind.”

“You’re horrible,” she whispers hoarsely, tears silently falling down her cheeks to her dismay. Michael only laughs, pulling her in closer by the chin to lick the salty drops away. And her breath hitches in her throat, body growing stiff and eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his hot tongue tainting her cool skin.

“I know,” he whispers back, nose brushing against her own. “It excites you, doesn’t it?”

“I’m not yours,” y/n murmurs weakly, affirmation lost on her tongue and in his ears. “I’m not like you.”

“You’re better?” He mocks.

“You don’t have to be this way,” she pleads, eyelids flitting open so she can gaze into his blue eyes, gaze into his soul. “The warlocks idolize you because they believe your rise to the top will bring the coven to its end. But it doesn’t have to be that way, you don’t have to follow the path they’ve made for you. I-I can help you, Michael. I want to love you.”

“Would you stay if she promised you heaven, will you ever win?”

“Love is for children,” he sneers, “I don’t need you.”

“But you want me?” Y/N whispers, and Michael falters. There’s a difference between need and want, a difference in yearning, longing. The ache you feel deep inside your chest at the thought of not being able to have something. It’s what he feels every time he looks at her, so pristine and pretty and powerful, overshadowed by the ranking of her mother.

“She is like a cat in the dark, and then she is the darkness.”

And he wants her. He so desperately wants her by his side, not only as an ally but as a lover. Someone to turn to for comfort, for compassion, to sit upon his lap as they watch the world burn together. To have on his arm, to carry his legacy in her womb. Mind, body, and soul.

Yet he feels her resistance, her defiance in the face of authority. Her mind and soul are locked away tightly in a place he cannot easily reach. But her body is his, he can smell her arousal, and he dips down to press his lips against her own.

“She rules her life like a fine skylark and when the sky is starless.”

Her hands find his hair, eyes shutting as her fingers entangle themselves in his blond locks. They’re soft and smooth against her fingertips, a sharp contrast to his hot tongue shoving itself down her throat. Saliva coats their lips as they swap spit, hands desperately groping at each other for something to grasp, something to ground them in the moment before it can slip away.

“All your life you’ve never seen a woman taken by the wind. Would stay if she promised you heaven, will you ever win?”

Y/N isn’t sure how she ends up in his bed, the door locked shut and the room bathed in candle light as Stevie’s voice becomes nothing but a distant echo. The candles should have been romantic, but instead it made the surroundings eerie and uncomfortable. His hands desperately groping her breasts and his teeth raking along her jaw are enough of a distraction though, and any and all rational thoughts she may hold are quickly tossed out the door.

“Michael,” she breathes, eyes fluttering shut as his wet lips trail down her neck to the exposed skin of her breasts. She watches with hooded eyes as his slender fingers diligently untie the front corset of her dress, exposing her naked breasts to his prying eyes. Michael lavishes her figure, illuminated by the soft candlelight. She looks angelic underneath him despite her sinfully puffy lips and perked nipples, and he can’t help but beam at the corruption he’s created within her. If only Cordelia could see her precious little daughter now, wet and wanting and ready for the new supreme, for the alpha.

The same slender fingers used to untie her corset are the same digits that dip into her panties and push past her slick folds. A small, breathless whine escapes her lips before she can stop it, and he gives her a chesire like grin.

“So desperate for your alpha, aren’t you?” He coos, fingers moving at a painfully slow and steady pace that has her writhing against the sheets.

“Michael,” she whispers, head thrown back against the pillows and eyes shut to hide her guilty pleasure. After the clunky, awkward kiss they’d shared just weeks ago, y/n never expected Michael to be so passionate, so experienced. What a nice surprise it was to learn he knew how to use his fingers.

The touch of the pads of his fingers against her interior is quickly taken away, but she has no time to protest as his cock is suddenly pushed past her panties and thrusted into her. Y/N lets out a strangled cry of discomfort, the feeling of being filled so unfamiliar and foreign to her body. But her pain seems to be Michael’s pleasure, and he begins to move without hesitation.

“Look at you,” he growls, one hand gripping at her thigh while the other wraps firmly around her neck to keep her in place as he slams into her with every harsh thrust. “So pathetic. So desperate for love and validation.”

“Please,” y/n whimpers, the pain evolving into pleasure. He fills her up so nicely, so fully. She can feel him everywhere, his tongue lapping at her breasts and his hands grasping at every part of her. He takes every part of her and she lets him. Without struggle, without hesitation.

“I can give you everything, fulfill every desire inside that wretched little mind of yours. Is that what you want? You want me to take care of you?” He coos, his words sweet and gentle despite how roughly he takes her. She’s so wet, and every word seems to make her gush onto his cock.

“Yes, please, yes,” y/n cries, hands grasping at the sleeves of his jacket. They’re sweaty and hot and fully clothed, but neither seemed to pay any mind. The feeling of their bodies connecting and souls intertwining was enough of a distraction.

She jolts at the faintest touch of his thumb against her clit, toes curling and thighs beginning to tremble at the stimulation. And he smiles maliciously, tickling her with feather light strokes in the place she needed him most.

“Michael,” she sobs, hips thrusting upward to meet his touch, to find some semblance of relief.

“Use your words, little lamb,” he coos mockingly, even slowing his strokes to punctuate his method of torture.

“Please, please.”

“Please what?” Michael asks, stilling completely and laughing at the pathetic whimpers that leave her lips.

“Touch me, please,” she begs, and cries in relief at the feeling of his thumb rubbing fast, hard circles into her clit.

“You will be mine,” he growls, pounding into her erratically. “Witches be damned.”

The talk of her sisters makes y/n shift uncomfortably, but the build up of his touch quickly yanks her away from any hesitation or discomfort. In a matter of seconds she’s pushed over the edge, a raw and guttural cry echoing through the room as her body trembles and spasms underneath him.

The way she clenches has Michael’s eyes rolling over black, a new surge of strength washing over him as his thrusts become erratic and uncoordinated, sloppy. Too dazed by her orgasm is y/n to take note of the way his eyes convert into bottomless black orbs, skin paling as dark veins outline his features. But the primal growl that leaves his lips as he comes is not human, and with his last full thrust the candles are blown out. And it’s just the two of them, breathless and sweaty and slick in each other’s bodily fluids as they recover in the dark.

“Mind, body,” Michael whispers with a shaky hand harshly grabbing her face by the cheeks, “and fucking soul.”

And she can only shut her eyes and escape to somewhere gentler, somewhere comforting to mask the first wave of guilt and regret that consumes her entire being.

She pictures somewhere domestic where sunlight shines through the curtains upon their naked figures, limbs and sheets entangled together so that they are one. The darkness is gone and he holds her in his arms, loving and protecting and caring like she desperately wishes for him to be.

He tells her he loves her, and for a moment y/n mistakes the vision as reality, a comforting illusion that soon comes crumbling down at reality’s brutal impact.

“Dreams unwind, love’s a state of mind.”

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/

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