#So it seems this bingo is a little bit confusing so let me give you some ✨ Context ✨

[ninadove]

BINGO 🎉

(I’m actually dying inside)

[mariclerc]

Meant to be | cl16

Summary: where you dream about a life with a guy you don't know yet.

Warning: fluff, soulmates!au, interlinked dreams.

a/n: let me know if you like this!!

“My God, where are those keys, huh?” you say as you search through your bag for your house keys while holding a bag with some groceries you had bought. “Bingo!” you say finding your keys and inserting it into the knob and opening the front door.

Upon entering you were met with the most beautiful scene; Your pets, a kitten named Luna and a little dachshund dog with golden fur called Leo, they are playing with a boy, who is alone in a pair of sweatpants without a shirt, showing off his toned torso.

His skin is a bit tanned and sunburned, but he still look gorgeous with that contrast of golden and slightly red color from the sunburns. He laughs at the antics that Luna and Leo make at him, when he smiles he shows the cutest dimples you've ever seen.

He looks up at you and gives you that cute smile. “Hi there, mon chéri!” he says while stroking Leo's fur. (my darling) “Little ones, look, mommy's here!” he says to Luna and Leo, who come out to greet you with affection.

You smile. “Hi there my little loves!” you say at your adorable pets, Leo moves his tail wide and Luna moves her paws towards your legs. You put the groceries on a table and walked over your boyfriend. “Hey you, lovebug!” you greet him by giving him a soft kiss on his cheek, he closed his eyes and smiled.

“I missed you darling.” he says with a slightly hoarse voice.

You caressed his hair and he closed his eyes again, he looked like a soft angel. “I missed you too, honey. What were you doing?” you asked him softly.

He smiled. “I was picking some fruits from the garden while Luna and Leo were running around among the flowers.” he says softly. “And well, then I started playing with them!” he giggled.

“Sounds like you had a lot of fun!” you giggled too as you get up the floor and started walking to accommodate the groceries in their place, he gets up too.

“The best, but I missed my girl so much.” he says smiling as he helped you with the groceries.

He looks so soft and cute, it's like you've seen him somewhere before, not just in your dream, but somewhere else. His greenish eyes captivate you, he has a quite bewitching look, his face seems carved by God himself, and he looks like a prince.

“Awwe, I missed you too baby!” you hug him gently.

And just as he was leaning in to kiss you... Suddenly you wake up very excited and agitated.

-

You rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. The dream felt very real and vivid, so much so that you still feel the sensation of his arms around yours.

You sit in your bed. “Why I can't remember his face? I don't understand, it felt so real...” you say softly to yourself as you swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling a mix of excitement and confusion. “Oh god, we had a house... and a puppy... and a kitten.” you muttered to yourself while closing your eyes as you try to replay the scenes of the dream.

You get up and walked over to the window, looking out at the world outside. “It was perfect.” you sigh.

Almost simultaneously, Charles wakes up very sleepy from his dream, he had a dream quite similar to yours. He stretches as he smiles, trying to remember parts of the dream.

“That was... Different, but it felt so real.” he mutters to himself, He gets up and gets out of bed and heads to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “There was someone... but who?” he thinks out loud.

He takes a sip and leans against the counter, lost in thought.

Back to you, you're pacing around your room, still trying to remember the dream.

“Why I can't remember? My god...” you say a little frustrated. Then you decide to grab a notebook and start jotting down everything you can still remember about the dream. “A cozy house... a dachshund puppy... a kitten... and him.” you say as you finish writing.

***

As the days went by you continued to dream about the boy and the pets you had together, each dream was different but the feeling was the same: there was that familiarity and closeness that you've rarely had with someone... You are now in your apartment with your best friend Sarah, you are having a girls' afternoon while catching up on everything that has happened in your lives.

“And then in this dream I was waking up next to him and god! He looked so angelic and peaceful I just...” you say and you sighed, covering your face with your hands. “Don't think I'm crazy, because I'm not.”

Sarah smiles gently. “I know you're not crazy or something like that darling... It means that maybe that is your soulmate and you are interlinked with him somehow.” She says as she removes your hands from your face.

“But the thing is... You know I've never had a boyfriend, and well, it's a little weird.” you say shyly.

“Y/n... That's not unusual, don't worry about rushing into that... Imagine that you meet this guy from the dream and that everything that occurs in the dream eventually happens in real life, wouldn't that be great?” she smiles.

You blushed. “I don't know, I just wish he was true.”

Suddenly Sarah sees a post about a charity gala at the prince's palace, in Monaco charity galas are very common and although you don't like being in the spotlight, you've always been fascinated by the idea of attending one of those galas.

Sarah shows you the post. “Look, there's a gala in a couple of weeks... And I know you've always wanted to attend one.” she smiled mischievously. “So... What do you think if you go and get the guy of your dreams there?” she says.

You giggled. “Oh... That's a good idea, but I don't know if I could find him there.” you say softly.

You and Sarah start going through your closet to find a dress worthy of a gala, waiting to see if the guy who makes you spend sleepless nights finally appears.

***

Finally the day of the gala arrives, you’re wearing a lovely dress but feel shy amidst the crowd. Whether you get the guy or not, you'll try to have a good time.

“Okay y/n, just breathe.” you say to yourself.

As you navigate through the crowd, Charles stands across the room, chatting with friends. He suddenly feels a pull toward you, when he looks up and sees you he can't believe it, you are the girl of his dreams, the girl who has been keeping him awake every night.

“Who's that? No way... she's here.” he says in a whisper while looking over towards you. “Excuse me, guys.” he says as he leaves his group of friends to start walking.

You catch his eye for a brief moment before looking away shyly. “Okay, just be yourself.” you whisper to yourself.

Charles makes his way through the crowd toward you, his heart racing with anticipation. “Hi there! I'm Charles.” he says while he smiles warmly at you, showing off his dimples.

The same dimples he had on your dream, the same cute little smile he gives to you in your dreams... It's real, he's real.

“H-hi! I'm... I'm y/n!” you say while stammering slightly.

“You look familiar... Have we met before? Because I can swear I've seen you somewhere else.” he says a little intrigued.

You blushed. “Ehm... No, I don't think so, but it's funny because I feel like I know you from somewhere else.” you say softly.

He giggled. “It's okay.” he smiles again. “You want to grab some drinks and have a chat?”

You nodded shyly. “Sure! I'd like that.”

As you walk together through the great hall, there’s an undeniable chemistry building between you two. You share stories about your lives, and he opens up about his passion for racing.

“And that’s why I love being on the track—every lap feels like a new adventure.” he says enthusiastically.

“That sounds exhilarating!” you say genuinely interested.

“What about you? What’s your adventure?” he asked playfully.

“I guess I’m still figuring it out… but I love animals.” you smiled softly.

“You know, I feel like we’ve known each other forever.” he says while looking deeply into your eyes.

“I feel that too.” you can feel your heart racing so fast. “The truth is that for a couple of nights now, I have had a very recurring dream... And someone similar to you appears.” you say shyly.

“Oh, really? Tell me all about it, let's see if it's similar to my dream.” he says softly.

You blushed, gaining confidence. “Well... It was about a pretty house in the countryside I guess... A little puppy and a little kitten appeared in it and, obviously, you...” you said the last thing softly.

He looks at you softly. “Oh, that sounds so interesting... I had a somewhat similar dream, I had cute puppy and kitten there, a nice house with a garden and, well... There was someone similar to you there, maybe it was you.” he says blushing a little bit.

You look at him shocked by his words, some time ago you had heard someone talk about soulmates and that there are some that are interlinked by dreams and such... What you didn't imagine is that you were going to get your soulmate, the guy you've been dreaming about for several nights, at a charity gala.

You looked at him, shocked. “You... You think our dreams were interlinked?” you say in a whisper.

He nodded while smiling. “I do think so, I mean, it's no coincidence that we had the same dream, right?” he asked you and you smiled. “I want to know what else was in your dream?”

You smiled. “Well, there was this house... It felt so safe and warm.” you say thoughtfully.

He leans closer to you. “What was it like?” he asked.

You smile nostalgically. “It had a big backyard with fruits and lots of flowers... and a swing set, we were so happy there!”

Charles watches your expression change as you talk about it.

“And, what about me? What do you remember?” he asked curiously.

You bite your lip. “Just that we were together... and it felt so right.”

There’s a moment of silence as you both absorb what you just said, the connection between you grows stronger.

“I think that our dreams are our hearts trying to tell us something.” Charles says softly.

You look into his eyes, feeling a rush of emotions. “Do you think… do you think we could make that dream a reality?” you whisper.

Charles shifts closer, his gaze intense. “Oh, believe me, I would love to make it happen with you.” he says earnestly.

Suddenly, Charles reaches out and gently takes your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sends shivers down your spine.

“Y/n... Can I kiss you? Please?” he whispered softly.

Your heart pounds in anticipation as you nod slowly. He leans in, capturing your lips with his in a soft yet electrifying kiss. It feels like magic—everything you've ever dreamed of coming to life in that single moment. As you pull away, breathless and smiling, the world around you seems brighter.

“Wow...” he whispered while grinning.

You blushed. “Wow indeed... Did you know that in my dreams we never got to kiss?” you giggled.

He smiled. “Let me guess, did the alarm wake you up too? Because it happened to me several times.” he giggled softly.

You shake your head. “Worse... I woke up all excited and flustered, but it was worth it, I think... That kiss was much better than I could have imagined.”

He giggled. “Oh, I know baby.” he kissed the back of your hand. “It was perfect, it felt like we were waiting a long time for it.”

With laughter and warmth enveloping you both, it feels like this is just the beginning of a beautiful adventure together—one that echoes the dreams you've both shared and those yet to come.

[snowy-vee]

ALL MINE (5) Re-Done. MUST READ AGAIN

CHECK MY PINNED POST!

DAILY CLICK!!!!

DON'T STOP TALKING ABOUT PALESTINE JUST BECAUSE THE STRIKE IS OVER! NOBODY WILL BE FREE UNTIL EVERYONE IS FREE!

oblivious loser bsf! ellie williams x posesive popular bsf!fem reader

INDEX

n/a: I'VE CHANGED THINGS AND I MIGHT'VE FOUND INSPIRATION after watching 'You' again, if my narrative seems like Joe's, so sorry, I am obsessed with the man. BARE WITH ME, much shorter chapter then the one before

You were running, feeling the sweat drops sliding down your face. Your legs felt tired, but you knew that if you stopped now, you’d likely collapse on the ground. Still, you kept increasing the speed on the treadmill, wanting to challenge yourself more.

“Are you done? We need to talk.” Jesse was beside you on another treadmill, but he was still, just leaning against it, watching you. You stopped the machine, gradually reducing the speed.

“I hope this isn’t bad news. I’ve had to put up with a lot from those two this week; I don’t plan on hearing from you that everything’s going wrong now,” you said before starting to drink water to hydrate your dry throat. The truth was, you had started frequenting the campus gym much more than before because it was unbearable to hear Ellie talk about Dina or see Ellie and Dina acting cute in the apartment.

Acting like it didn’t bother you was becoming a very difficult task, and there were times when you would simply cut Ellie off mid-conversation and lock yourself in your room. The next day, you’d have to lie about something. You couldn’t bear the thought that the small plan you had with Jesse would fail. You had been helping him with things like knowing where Dina was at any given time, if she was excited about some new show, if she had any other favorite candies, or to keep Ellie busy so he could have some alone time with Dina.

While Dina’s visits had been decreasing, you still saw her around the house. That wasn’t enough for you; she had to disappear from your lives.

“I’ve been thinking that maybe you should participate more too.”

“I already do. It’s not easy keeping them away.”

“No, I mean you should start seducing Ellie,” you frowned at his words, confused about what he meant. “I can win Dina back, but likewise, Ellie could give it a shot, as both are currently single and Ellie’s interest lies solely with Dina, I think.”

You nodded slowly, seeing the point of his words. You hadn’t thought about also having Ellie eating out of your hand; she had to desire you as much as you did her.

“Well, Ellie and I are going to my vacation home next weekend for Spring Break. I can try something there; we’ll be alone for two days before my family arrives.”

“I know. I have a date with Dina that and this weekend.”

“A date?”

“Well, she’s coming to my house to help me study,” Jesse clarified, handing you your bag. “Keep me informed if anything changes between you and Ellie.”

“The same goes for you” you grabbed your bag and waved him goodbye as you left the gym.

Whistling, you went through your phone, swiping insta stories ¡Bingo! They were on a date in some place so you had the house by yourself for maybe a couple hours. The bus took it’s time to arrive but the trip to the apartment was quick.

You were going to shower, sleep and maybe fantasize a little bit. You could wake up on a Saturday morning and start scheming from the very first ray of sunlight.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

And you did. Your whole week revolve around Ellie and being in her space more than anything, pleasing her, hanging out with her, making excuses just to have her by your side.

“I just need some help to prepare things for the trip” you would say declining the call of Dina on her phone while she was in the shower “I want to have a great time, I’m so tired of studying all my free time”

“I can help, yeah” Her voice sounded a little muffled because of the water running, you were mesmerized looking at her figure, at least, the shadow. “I just have to let Dina know, we’ve made plans, maybe you can tag along?”

You? Tag along? Why did it had to be you the one tagging along and not Dina? You huffed in annoyance.

“Can you pass me my towel?”

“You could always get it yourself, I’ve seen you naked before”

“I don’t want to wet the floor!” The water stop running and she popped he head and her arm, waving it so you could give her the towel. You were fast to leave the phone where she left it before, you threw the towel at her.

Sighs left your dry mouth as you remember. It’s been hard this week, so hard to balance cheer practice, studies, keep Ellie around, keep Ellie’s phone close, keep Jesse informed, keep Dina away, make Jesse inform you, stay pretty, stay consistent, don’t stop the motion.

The Friday morning, you were in the library, first time of the week that you actually spent time alone. Not fully since you met Jesse at first to talk about them and after collecting and exchanging information you went to the furthest table to study and concentrate in your work.

Now you were gathering your books and laptop because Ellie had sent you a message saying she was going home already, that she was going to pick you up, that you should be ready. You saw her at the door, but she wasn’t alone and seemed to be arguing with the other person.

With every step you took, you could see more of the other person’s face, it was Dina. They both fell silent the moment you opened the door and greeted them, Dina looked you up and down and turned her attention back to Ellie “Please don’t stop talking to me this week, we’re both angry about different things and it’s best if we calm down and talk another time”.

And with that she walked into the library bumping your shoulder on purpose, you opened your mouth offended and turned to Ellie “What is her problem with me? Just know that I’m holding back because it’s your something, but otherwise…”

“I don’t even know if we’re still a thing” she muttered grabbing your backpack and starting to walk “Come on, we need to pack our bags for the Easter trip.”

You nodded looking inside the library as Dina and Jesse seemed to be studying together while laughing, you couldn’t be happier. The plan was working, but it wouldn’t be complete until Ellie and Dina broke up completely.

When you got home, you went into your room and saw that your bed was full of clothes and your travel bag was almost full. You sighed as you got down to work and finished packing your bag and cleaning your room, once you finished you went into Ellie’s room only to find her lying on top of the pile of clothes. “What are you doing? We’re supposed to be out of here in less than two hours and I remind you that you’re supposed to drive there.”

“I don’t even know what to put in.”

“Ellie, you’re like an NPC, you always wear the same clothes, just put three pairs of trousers, five shirts, one pair of pyjamas and two swimming trunks, we’ll swap clothes if we have to.”

“I’ll pass, how about I stay here? I wouldn’t want to spoil your holiday with your family.”

“No way, you’re family too, my mother loves you as if you were her daughter, I’ll help you!”

‘Like a daugther soon to be in law’ you thought, pushing her to the edge of the bed and starting to look through her clothes to see what she could and couldn’t wear. It didn’t take long and Ellie took the opportunity to clean her room and prepare some snacks for mid-trip.

Soon you were both changed into comfortable clothes and inside the car ready for the journey. Oh, what a trip this one was going to be ¿Ellie and Dina upset with each other? The cream decorating the cupcake ¿You maintaining her occupied so she could barely have time to check on her phone and lose contact with Dina while Jesse did his thing? Cherry on TOP.

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[catonator]

Marketers are Morons

E3 is dead, but suits still need to get their fix for both their crippling gambling addiction and their exhibitionist fetish somewhere, so you know what time it is! It’s… a random weekend in June.

That’s right, with no real reason or cohesion to onlookers, this just happens to be the exact moment when all the executives could no longer hold it in and had to bust all over Twitch, which is much easier nowadays thanks to the camwhore apocalypse. As such, we have a fuckton of new trailers and other assorted trailer-like homunculi to pour over as the good little consumer piggies we are.

But the past few years, the ads have seemed increasingly unlikely to stir any excitement. Trailers are more cookie-cutter than ever, and actual gameplay reveals are a disappearing art. And much like last time when I complained about gaming news, all the developers actually making the games are mysteriously absent. Yes, you read that right, this blog has continuity now! Look forward to the blogomatic universe announcement later this year.

Looking back at E3s of old, these new events are cheaper, more condensed, more accessible and entirely controlled by the corporations and not vulnerable to the oh-so-familiar gaffes of live shows. Yet they still happen just as rarely as E3. Somehow the genius executives at the top have decided that, you know, instead of letting people know what’s happening more often and spreading the games accordingly to give them all room to breathe, we stuff even more crap into a shorter timespan and as a result nobody even remembers what we saw two days later.

Confoundingly we’ve decided that now gameplay reveals are also trailers. Both Perfect Dark and That Indiana Jones Thing Because Disney Has To Stay Relevant™ had “gameplay reveals”, but both were some sort of amalgamation of gameplay clips strung together and overlaid with the same piano-inception horn trailer music trash every other trailer was full of. Why even bother? Just cut out the middleman and show us a CGI video clip at that point for all the difference that makes.

I’m honestly a little confused about what all the suits even do all day. They’re paid exorbitant sums of money and all they can come up with is the same shit all their friends and THEMSELVES have been doing for years. Does the marketing team also double as the company’s cocaine quality assurance wing? Presumably the business school all these clowns come from is equally tilted in their goals, since I’d imagine “don’t immediately shoot your product in the foot” and “don’t make your product look as undesirable as possible” would rank fairly high on a business 101 class’ Don’t-Fuck-It-up-o-meter. Alongside wisdom like “don’t burn all your money like Heath Ledger in the Dark Knight”.

I feel the early onset Old Man Syndrome setting in again. Last time it was gaming magazines/news, this time it’s gaming events. There’s another one about marketing and gameplay gifs on social media that I think I’ll save for later. It’s a little frustrating that consistently I hit the same issues with the consideration of “it worked so much better before, what the fuck happened?”

Many complain about E3 et al. being just loaded advertising breaks, but the truth is, even in a moneyless society marketing would still be needed to let people know your artwork exists. A marketing campaign doesn’t just exist to sell you on something monetarily, but also timewise. Even if a game was free, the time commitment still means that you’ll filter out a lot of art unless you know it’s worth your time.

It’s a little disappointing that a theoretically better and more accessible system still makes me miss the haphazard cringefest that was E3, but a well oiled marketing machine also completely lacks the humanity that this medium so sorely needs right now. So please, bring it back. E3 needs to exist for this industry’s long term survival.

And also the E3 bingo cards. Those are the most important bit.

[captains-pet-rat]

TEACHING HER TO COOK

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

[Dancing Rasta X OC]

Because of her busy schedule, Haera relies on her group members when it comes to cooking. From interviews to back to back practice sessions, she'd come home with barely enough time to eat. However, now that she's on a break, her husband-to-be, Rasta, offers to teach her the basics of cooking and nutrition.

"Soooo, what do you already know, man?" Rasta asked, curious to know, hoping to see where they can start from what she might know.

"I'm really spoilt honestly. Frying an egg is okay, but I'm terrible at flipping them. Most of the times they end up scrambled so I don't have to worry about the yolk leaking. I can cook rice, but only with a rice cooker" She replied.

"I'm guessing you were taught the 'finger measure' method huh?" Rasta asked, knowing that Asians don't really get fancy with measuring water when it comes to cooking rice. All they need are thier knuckles.

"Haha, Bingo!" Haera let out an awkward laugh. The fact Rasta knew about the finger measuring method excited her. She continued " I can also make basic broths with veggies and meat to which I sometimes use to cook flavour my rice with.."

" Broths can be turned into really good soups too mon! Kinda gives me an idea actually~ How about starting off simple, rice, a nice warm soup and for veggies we can have em fresh, like a salad~" Rasta's suggestion was quite beginner friendly, as it wouldn't require too much work neither would it cram HaeRas mind with confusion.

"Hey love, whatever you suggest, I'll gladly follow. I dont the house burning down over a plate of veggies and a bowl of soup" Haera said shyly, as she's excited about what's to happen next. She's always wanted to cook a yummy meal for Rasta when he's coming home drained after a long day at training. Now's an opportunity to expand her knowledge about what Rasta enjoys food wise so far.

Rasta pulled out a chunk of thawed meat and some veggies from the fridge as Haera got the appropriate kitchen appliances. Together they assembled a salad with simple ingredients like lettuce, spinach, baby tomato's and shredded carrot.

Haera knew her way around Rasta's rice cooker from her years of fumbling with different cheap rice cookers her family could afford at local night markets. Very gently, Haera washed the rice in hopes it wouldn't break. She repeatedly washed and drained the rice for at least three times till the water around the rice got less cloudier after each wash. She drained the water and left the rice there as they got ready to boil up some soup.

Firstly, the pot was heated and sesame oil was added. Then, they added pieces of somewhat evenly chopped up meat into the pot with a bit of cooking sauce. Finally, water and a bit of beef stock was added. They left the soup to simmer as they set up the table. They used most of the soup to cook thier rice in hopes it would flavour it up. Whatever was leftover in the pot seemed to be more than enough to fill both of them.

As they brought the food to the table, Haera smiled. She was amazed at fast yet fragrant the food turned out. Rasta on the other hand looked at his wife-to-be, proud of what she's accomplished.

"Smells good! Can't wait to dig in...." Rasta exclaimed~

They spent their next few hours talking around the dinner table, about their hopes and dreams and about how they're excited for their next chapter together. Today was about how little things can lead to moments of happiness. Working together to get something done lead to their relationship getting stronger, and it's these little things that bring back the best memories they'll be laughing at when they're both old and grey <3

[yourstormthlaylirahh]

A bit late for this because I took the app off my phone for a while and missed the event (I was going to make a bingo this year but oh well) but here are my reactions to the 2024 gmmtv trailers, from most to least anticipated.

On Sale: I have liked every ghost themed drama I have ever watched. I adore Jan. I think while this appears very silly and over the top, it has the potential to have very poignant moments, and I'm holding out for some class commentary through News character 🤞

Pluto's Love: Namtan! Film! Sapphic! Drama! I am very excited! Some hesitancy is felt because I'm always anxious about the treatment of disability in media, so I hope it's not patronizing or disrespectful to the blind community. 🤞

Ploys Yearbook: finally another female led drama. I have high hopes for this, even if it seems like it's retreading plots from other recent gmmtv dramas such as Warp Effect

Kidnap: the plot looks relatively fresh and dramatic. It seems up my alley. Ohm seems to be typecast now.

My Golden Blood: I am really excited for this, corny as it looks and all. A genre romance with Neo and Mond in evil roles, plus a plot pulled straight out of a pulp romance? Sign me up

My Love Mix Up: I'm a little torn on this one, but more positive than negative. I really love Kieta Hatsukoi, and I'm not sure the type of over the top humour and acting from Aoki will translate very well into a thai series. That being said, both Gemini and Fourth are very talented young actors and I think even if not as iconic as the original, their performances will still be enjoyable and heartfelt.

Ossans Love Thailand: another remake? And then another Japanese series but it's a sequel to the thai remake? I'm confused, I think I misunderstood something. I do however have a strong bias towards seeing Earth and Mix together on my screen, I think they act very well together. I also really loved Au Kornprom's directing for MSP

Enigma 2: I guess I need to get my ass moving and watch the first one. The trailer was very artsy

Wandee Gooday: I'm not super interested in the plot based on what we got in the trailer, but I screamed twice, once when I saw Drake and once when I saw Ploy. I love both actors, and I had thought Drake had quit to pursue acting in America so I was pleasantly surprised. I know In Sarin can act well because of Miracle of Teddy Bear (which you all missed out on and should have watched, it was excellent). Also, the scene at the end when he has to stop sex cause he got a cramp from holding his leg up was genuinely funny and relatable. Golf directing is a bonus.

Summer Night: I am a bit letdown, because I initially thought they were breaking up the CPs to put Dunk and Phuwin together in a bl and that would open up so many storytelling avenues for them and other actors, but that seems not to be the case. Regardless, this looks cute and fluffy and I am tentatively interested.

High School Frenemy: it wouldnt be a gmm line up without a homoerotic tale about 2 enemies in some sort of dark school setting. The trailer doesn't give one much to go on, it's a lot of very repetitive fighting scenes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for the female characters to get some good scenes which showcase their acting abilities as well as the male characters.

Only Boo: let the record show 'boo' is the most annoying form of endearment in English, why did they translate it this way? The main character is pretty annoying, but to me the trailer got more interesting as it went on, so it should be fun at any rate, and Louis and Book are always nice to see

My Precious: still haven't bothered to watch the movie

The Interest: Yayas character looks wonderful and compelling. Brights looks like a fucking creep, though incidentally those are the characters I think he is best at playing, so hey

The Trainee: I just don't like office settings, I find them uninteresting and a lot of the formalities and etiquette of offices seems really silly and pointless to me. This trailer won major points for seeming to feature a wlw couple, so I'll watch for them anyways, and I got really excited to hear Sizzy so there's that.

We Are: I could barely get through the trailer, this looked really bland to me. I like most of the actors involved so I'm willing to be pleasantly suprised, but I'm not expecting much

Overall, even though there are 7 to 9 series I would say I'm looking forward to, I'm really disappointed overall. A lot of the series are really bland to me this year, so I'm hoping I'm more excited by Pt 2 whenever that is. I want roles for Khao, First and Fah :(

Roles for Mild too, though I know she is a freelancer and not under gmm

[jumpinjackdragoon]

So some time ago I was on @valiisthea's blog and saw some Bingo cards and I was like... Hey, those look like fun to fill out as the Viera Dragoon herself! Plus they appear to need a pick-me-up and that I can do!

(Let's just pretend that nobody in the FF16-verse is confused by what appears to be someone with bunny ears)

If there's not a star but a confused-Jack-head, that's a "it depends" and I'm not counting it as a mark. Some things I'll go into depth more since... I like talking about my character.

"Ummm, Jack? You know you have an incompatible orientation with Dion and Terence so why did you fill these out?"

"Seemed like fun."

Yes, I'm aware of the irony that there's so many lines with someone that wouldn't work out. Though between the masculine name, flat chest, and deeper voice, it would be easy to mistake Jack for a prettyboy at first.

Can cook: While Jack may not have levelled cooking very high so don't expect anything fancy, her angling and gathering skills combined with the constant travel means she excels at grilling fish and veggies over an open flame.

Can backflip: She's a Dragoon! Of course!

Adrenaline Junkie: Her drive to be a powerful and brave knight means she's constantly willing to throw herself into danger no matter what it is. While most Dragoons jump into battle, she likes making a grand entrance by scattering foes atop her Behemoth mount.

Likes flying/dragons: Her wish as a child was to be able to jump high enough to touch the stars, so any time she's able to fly is when she's happy. The old fairy-tales made her wary of dragons at first, but she eventually started to come around to them.

Sexually dominant: Marked as "It depends" because Jack is very much someone who can go either way, be it dominance or gender (or desserts. Was once given a round of booing by her Free Company for declaring herself "bisnackxual" when asked if she preferred cakes or pies)

Not squeamish: She's a master of skinning, butchery, and preparing fish, so blood and guts don't phase her... though getting attacked by seagulls while gutting fish will!

Will spar with him: Yaaaaas! It's one of Jack's favourite things, once again inspired by tales of swordfights and jousting knights. While she's usually pretty gentle and easy-going, she's almost a beast once blades begin crossing. (Usually followed by apologies if she went a bit too rough)

Hair pets/physical touch/etc.: Jack can be incredibly touchy-feely with everyone, whether it's resting her arm on their shoulder or giving them a playful few mock-jabs. If she's the little spoon, she likes draping her ears back over the big spoon's shoulders.

Will read to him: And HOW! This Don Quixiote in a bunny's body loves to read stories about heroes, so you know she'll love sharing with others.

Elegance/grace (it depends): On one hand, she's a Dragoon. On the other hand, she has ridden her Behemoth off a cliff on more occasions to count.

Murder :3: Biiiiiig no. While Jack accepts that sometimes taking lives is par for the course, she does so for food, or culling wild creatures, or taking down people known for doing bad things. Even then, she still doesn't like taking lives.

Biting/Scratching: Generally, bunnies may bite gently at people as a form of bonding, like they're trying to help their owners groom. This carries over to Viera instincts as well.

Smoke breaks/strong (physically): Since Jack makes it a habit to stay in peak physical condition, smoking is a BIG no for her. Expect her to immediately be a few hundred paces away between the moment the spark lights up and the moment the smoke starts.

Rough in bed (it depends): While Jack is more willing to be dominant at times (and the whole biting thing) she doesn't like going too hard. Don't suggest breathplay, for example, because she's gonna be the one hyperventilating because she panicked over the worry of accidentally going to far.

Stargazing: Big yes! Jack's love of the night sky is a big motivator for her being a Dragoon.

Best him in sword practice (It depends): Jack's much better with a lance than a sword, so while she does her best, being able to best him might not always come easy.

Let him hear your hearbeat: Absolutely willing, though she does worry that he'd worry she's unwell because Viera hearts are naturally much faster (believe me, it took her some time to learn that Hyur/human heart-rates being much slower is normal. Poor bun keeps getting panicked when a party member goes down and she checks for signs of life because she thinks their pulse is dangerously slow. Let us be thankful she's a Dragoon and not someone with access to Thundaga)

Likes semi-grumpy dudes: Oh, she has plenty of practice hanging out with Estinien.

Loves Chocobos: While Behemoth is her preferred ride of choice, she still has a stable full of Chocobos. Her first one, Nugget, still is at her side.

Well whaddaya know, Barny. You were able to get a Bingo because Jack is... not dead. Despite how many times she ends up riding Behemoth off a cliff.

Genuinely care for him/can tolerate trauma: Ever since the Seventh Umbral Calamity, Jack can empathize with trauma. She's also an incredible listener - those big ears aren't for show!

Must be into old men (it depends): Much like how Jack might get confused with the difference between Viera and Hyur/human biology, she will especially get confused with the difference between their aging. If one race lives much longer than the other, what is the threshold for "old"? (Cue Jack counting on her fingers and mumbling)

A loyal horse (it depends): *Patrick Star voice* Is Behemoth a horse?

Must not be deceitful: Jack might be completely incapable of lying. Maybe that's why she's bad at poker games, she can't bluff even when she can tell others might be bluffing.

Well, this might be the most bingos. I think we can all agree that Clive is just rolling 20s in Charisma.

Social drinking: Not just social drinking, but if a bar fight breaks out you can guarantee that Jack will have Clive's back.

Dog person: Her beloved Bullpup, Cerberpup, and Corgi can attest to that!

Equality/Do the right thing: Jack sees or hears bigotry? Out comes the lance. And since I found it refreshing that Clive wasn't doing the tired "Nooooo, revenge is bad!" cliche with Jill, I'm sure that he'd have Invictus out just as fast.

Well, that was fun to explore my character a bit more!

[bunny-rafa]

quick request: akaashi vs powerbottom! male reader

okay so our handsome reader is getting hit on by his fangirls and fanboys yet again while he's trying to get to class and akaashi who has the same classes as him gets jealous and quickly shoos the fangirls and fanboys away. The entire day akaashi doesn't talk to reader and that makes him confused but luckily he gets that his oh who pretty boyfriend was jealous.

when akaashi enters his house mad asf that his lover didn't shoo his own fans away he unexpectedly sees reader on his bed naked and tells akaashi to ruin/mark him so everyone knows he belongs to akaashi.

warnings?: degradation, ass slapping, stalking (readers fans watch him eat lunch), belly bulge, cockwarming, rough sex, bokuto being the neighbor and hearing everything unfortunately, reader beeing a cocky mf to akaashi, hot possessive akaashi

extended ending if ya want: reader's fangirls blush and look away when they see tons of hickeys on his neck and chin so they none of them harass him scared of what their minds might wonder to and poor bokuto can't even look those two in the eyes without getting a bloody noise

Akaashi's Nemesis

'The hallway's more crowded than usual...'

On your way to algebra, you realize that it's harder to walk than usual. There's a lot of people around you, mostly girls, some boys. But they're all blocking your way. When did they get there? You were talking with Akaashi a bit ago.

"You all get out the way, we need to get to class."

They all seem to frown until you smile at them, which sends them all squealing as they move away.

"Haha, they're pretty rowdy today. Don't you think, Akaashi-kun?"

"They sure are, they won't even let people walk in peace to their next lesson."

You laugh at his statement, before getting to class and taking a seat.

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

Akaashi's been acting weird the whole day. Avoiding you, not talking to you at all, even glaring out the window with that adorable little pout of his. You'd be worried if you didn't know what was up. You'd be worried at the fact that he seemed so angry when you both noticed those girls stalking you up to the garden at lunch.

But knowing that he's just jealous makes it so cute to you.

You make sure to subtly tease him the whole day, giving him little touches here and there. You also talk with your fans whilst trying to gauge how jealous he can get.

So when he arrives home half an hour later and slams the door open, you can't help but grin. You've been patiently waiting for him in your shared bedroom.

"Hey babe! What took you so long?"

He heads into the kitchen, "nothing, wouldn't have taken as long if a certain someone had walked with me."

"I'm pretty sure the crowd would have followed us if I did that."

He frowns at that, turning to look at you from the kitchen before deciding against that. You can hear his footsteps make their way into the room. 'Bingo.'

"Maybe if you turned them away yourse-" he freezes at the doorway, eyes stuck to your naked form.

"Took you long enough to notice, don't you think, Keiji?"

He's still frozen by the doorway, pants tenting and a bright red blush creeping up his face and ears. You soften slightly at the sight of him so nervous and flustered.

"Come here baby," you motion over to the bed, "you can mark me and bruise me, so everyone knows I'm yours."

That gets him going. He lets out the smallest gasp you've ever heard. In an instant, he's groping at your thighs, your chest and even holds your throat in one hand. Pressing lightly. Feeling out your pulse.

He feels it racing at the tips of his fingers. His cock twitches when you tilt your head back to give him more space.

"Aww come on, Keiji. You can do better than that-"

"Don't call me that, slut."

Your breath stutters in your chest. Oh he's mad.

"You just wanted to whore around, didn't you? I'm surprised you didn't let one of those little fanboys of your fuck you or let the girls touch you up."

"You know I wouldn't let that happen. Without your permission at least~"

He frowns, before flipping you over and straddling your legs. The position leaves him with plenty of access to your ass. He plays with it for a bit, groping and slapping it. He hits you harder and harder, until you're crying out at each hit and rubbing your cock against the sheets.

He pulls your cheeks apart, before leaning down to lick a stripe from your balls to your hole. When you flinch away, he grips your neck and presses your face down into the bed.

He continues like that for a while, eating you out and smacking you and choking you when you move around too much. There's bruises on your neck already, dark red and bordering on purple.

Akaashi picks up a bottle of lube from the bedside table, dripping it onto your hole and letting it spill down your balls and cock. He preps you slowly, stretching you out and crooking his fingers just to hear you cry out.

"Keiji! You're being too slow, I'll go soft..!"

He snorts at that, before reaching underneath you and pulling your hips up. Keiji grabs a hold of your cock. Despite having come already, it's still hard and dripping with precum.

"I doubt it," he thrusts into you, "but I'll fuck you either way."

You're squirming, begging him to fuck into you already. But he grabs a hold of your throat again, biting at your neck and leaving hickeys against the bruised skin.

And then he fucks into you.

It's rough. You feel so full of him, can't tell where the pleasure begins and where it ends. He's muttering something into your ear, but you're too cock drunk to make it out. Until he presses a hand against the obvious outline of his cock on your stomach. You look down with blurry eyes just to see the way the bulge moves.

Your prostate feels bruised. You can't help but come when he smacks your ass again and pounds harder into you. With your fave shoved into the sheets, you can't do much but take his cock deep into you. He comes with his cock deep inside and makes you come once more.

"Good boy, taking me so well."

He pulls you with him as he sits against the head of the bed. Keeping his cock deep inside you, he pulls a blanket over the both of you. You're still half-drunk, high off of your orgasms and the way he kisses the side of your neck.

"Sleep, baby. We have lessons tomorrow."

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

Next door, poor Bokuto has been unable to concentrate on work. Even with his headphones at top volume, he can't help but hear the way his best friends and neighbours fuck like rabbits.

Red-faced, he leaves his flat and stays at his friend's house.

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

The next day...

"Oh my GOD, did you see the bruises on (y/n)-san's neck?! How do you think he got them?"

"Kao you ignorant shit, he fucked someone!"

"Oh no! Do you think he's taken?"

The group of girls look towards him. He seems to be flaunting the bruises, with the way he refuses to button up his shirt.

"Yeah... he is."

@qtipcottonbuds

@lordwennymacklet

[volleychumps]

« Insecure S/O Reacting to a Confession 2

part 1 here 

format: scenarios

genre: fluff

- includes: Iwaizumi, Tendou, and Matsukawa

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

Iwaizumi Hajime

The sun wasn’t helping his flared cheeks in any way. 

“Stop interfering.” 

“Stop stalling then.” Oikawa grins, rubbing his best friend’s shoulders as if he were about to enter a boxing ring. The dark haired ace rubs his eyes in irritation with one hand, ignoring the flare against his cheeks as Iwaizumi attempts to shake his childhood friend off. The sight of you kneeled down in the school garden, hair pinned back away from your face as you tended to the flowers, made the heat surge through Iwa’s cheeks even more. 

“I’m not.” 

“Really? Because every day you approach her creepily from some distance, and then disappear. C’mooon, I already owe Hiro like fifteen bucks-” 

“You’re betting on this, shithead?”

“Nope.” The answer comes out a little too quickly as Oikawa dodges a second swat. “She’s so pretty I might have to approach her myself-” 

“Not another word.” Iwa grits out, Oikawa slightly smirking at the tick in his jaw and the way his onyx eyes harden. “I just...don’t wanna mess this up.” 

“There’s nothing to mess up until you confess. Ah, young love.” Oikawa sighs dreamily, Iwaizumi ignoring his dramatic friend’s swoon before making a decision. Today was the day. 

You wipe sweat from your forehead, attempting to ignore the beating sun down on your face as you tried to hurry the process a long, ensuring the flowers were getting just enough water. The touch of an icy can of tea against your cheek startles you, almost making you drop the watering pot before you hold a hand up against the bright sun rays, tilting your head in confusion at the broad-shouldered man in front of you. 

“Iwaizumi?” You smile in greeting as Iwaizumi shuffles his feet, breath catching in his throat at the sight. He was so screwed. 

You laugh a bit awkwardly, the cold touch of the can beginning to numb. “Um, is this for me?” 

“Yes.” He curses himself at how stern it comes out, but you gently take the can from his grasp, nodding in thanks. “I-I know you like this one.” 

“You do?” 

“No.” He didn’t want to sound creepy, yet somehow made it worse. 

“Oh.” 

Iwaizumi was ready to kick himself. He was hoping you would understand, the day you shyly maneuvered your way through Oikawa’s fanclub to get to him to offer him an ice cold drink was the reason he became so infatuated in the first place. 

“Well, thanks for the tea-” 

“I like you.” 

This time, you do drop the watering pot, eyes widening like a deer caught in the headlights as Iwa’s heart sinks at your reaction. 

“I get it, alright?” You mumble, sadness swimming in your stomach as Iwaizumi fought the need to dart off. “You’re the handsome volleyball ace all the girls want, and they put you up to ask me out as a joke again. It’s getting old.” 

Ah. 

Iwaizumi sighs, knowing that the other girls preyed on you for your beauty and soft heart, finding ways to hurt you in the most immature ways possible. 

“Oi.” His heart tightens at the look of sorrow on your face, making him click his tongue before reaching a hand out before he can stop himself, smudging his thumb along the streak of dirt on your cheek. You look up at him in a doe-like manner, and your wet eyes are enough to make the ace want to hurt anyone who ever made you feel this way. 

“I’m not kidding.” 

“Iwa-” 

“Hajime.” He cuts you off, hiding a smirk when he feels the heat rush to your cheeks. “You can call me Hajime. Only you.” 

“Hajime.” you try it out, clapping your hand over your mouth once in shyness as Iwaizumi smiles a genuine grin, elated when you shy away into his touch. 

“Then...please take care of me.” You manage, condensation running down to your other hand holding the can as Iwaizumi slips it out of your grasp, taking a heavy sip of it before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“I finished this one. Can I take you to a cafe?” 

“I’d love that.” You slip your gardening gloves off, Iwa slipping his hand into yours casually as you trail behind him, smiling when his grip tightens ever so slightly.

Surprisingly, the sun suddenly didn’t feel too hot today. 

Tendou Satori

“Today’s the day fellas!” 

“Oh, is it?” Shirabu mocks his surprise. “It’s not like you put ‘ask y/n’ out in huge block letters on our team calendar or anything.” 

“Bingo!” Tendou points finger guns at his teammate as Semi shrugs at a disgruntled Shirabu. “I’m about to get myself a Miss Tendou Satori-” 

“That’s not how that works-” 

“Hush, Ushijima. Your logic won’t ruin my day today.” Tendou bounces on the balls of his feet, waiting for practice to let out as he tugs his last shoe on, his other teammates still in the process of changing. 

“Is she waiting for you?” Semi tugs his shirt overhead as Tendou hums happily in answer, Shirabu snarkily making a remark from the other side of the locker room. 

“She’s out of your league.” 

“I know she is! Which is why I’m going to treat her like the queen she is, since I myself am but a lowly peasant beneath her-” Tendou perks up at the time. “Gotta go, I’ll text you the outcome boys.” 

“Please don’t.”

“Tendou-senpai-” But the redhead had already darted through the door as Ushijima glances at his worried kouhai, tilting his head in question. 

“What, Goshiki?” 

“Isn’t Y/N L/N the one who had that mean prank pulled on her last year?”

You bit the inside of your cheek as you rocked on the balls of your feet, fidgeting with the ends of your skirt as you wait for the rambunctious redhead on the volleyball team. No way a cute guy like him was actually- 

“Did I make ya wait long?” A pair of sneakers appear in your view, making you lift your head as Tendou Satori casts you a wide grin, school shoes hanging in his other hand. You tilt your head, wondering if he rushed here.

“Did you need something from me, senpai?” You blink, swinging your legs lightly on the bench you were sitting on, fearing the worst. Tendou clears his throat, suddenly feeling the nervousness he had been outrunning catch up to him. He can’t mess this up. Ever since you had adorably asked him to reach something for you at the snack shop for the school, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind. He made sure to wait around during the same time during lunch hour, your usual snack already in hand and plucked off the highest shelf. 

“Go out with me.” 

You flinch. There it was. 

His smile fades slowly with every beat of silence that soaks in the atmosphere between the two of you, and you swallow back a sob. 

“How much are they giving you to do this?” 

Tendou’s shoes hit the floor, his eyes blinking rapidly in confusion as you refuse to meet his questioning gaze. 

“What?” 

“I um, can help you if you want. Go out with you for a few days so they really believe-” 

“Hey, hey!” Tendou’s arms begin to flail around as he shakes his head no. “I mean it Y/N, you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met. I really wanna date you for real-” 

“You do?” 

Tendou’s chest felt heavier at the crack in your voice and insecurity swirling in your eyes, and he nods his head, kneeling in front of you carefully before asking to take your hands with his eyes. 

“I 100% do. You can strip me of my honor if I’m lying.” 

This makes you crack a smile, making Tendou breathe out a sigh of relief through his nose. He thumps his forehead against yours, making your eyes glint in a way they haven’t in awhile.

“Can this lowly senpai please take you out on a date this weekend?” 

“No, my lowly senpai cannot.” You say, turning your palms over so he can hold them properly. Tendou quirks an eyebrow, but he’s slightly smirking as you offer a shy smile. 

“But my boyfriend can.” 

Matsukawa Issei

“You’re staring again, ya creep.” 

“I think the term you’re looking for is skillful admiring-” 

“Just ask her out.” Hanamaki yawns, getting comfy on his best friend’s desk as Matsukawa leans into his palm, eyeing the way you pout when your friends steal your snacks. So cute. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do, say no?” 

“Yes.” Matsukawa sighs, hanging his head slightly as Hanamaki arches a brow, crossing his arms in pure amusement. 

“Wow, Matsukawa Issei hung up over a girl?” 

“Who the hell is hung up-” 

Hanamaki arches a brow when his friend visibly tenses up, looking over only to smirk when he sees another boy in class shyly offer up his pocky to you, you gladly accepting and smiling widely in thanks. Issei rests his head on the desk, stubbornly looking out the window as Hanamaki withholds a laugh over the hold you have over your classmate. 

“Oh just ask her out.” Hanamaki uncaps his drink. “You’re so into her dude, it’s making me sick.” 

Issei shifts in his seat. Maybe his adoration for you wouldn’t have begun if it hadn’t been for the way your much shorter legs pumped to catch up to his figure, who had pretty much reached his home.

“Matsukawa-san!” You had gasped for breath, the messy-haired boy guiltily slipping his headphones off at how tired you seemed. Before he could profusely apologize, you shoved his notes in his hand, bright hue to his cheeks at the act of kindness. 

“Um, you left this in the library!” you manage out, Matsukawa seeming to freeze in the moment. “I added some notes in there, I hope you don’t mind. It seemed kinda empty-” 

“You wrote notes for me?” He finds his voice again, cursing himself at that being the first thing that came out. 

“I was bored during free time anyways.” You scratched the back of your head before turning on your heel again. “Anyways, bye!”

And then you darted off again as Matsukawa Issei stayed still in his spot, wondering just why the hell his heart was beating at the pace it was going, colorful notes hanging from his grasp. 

“I’m gonna do it.” Hanamaki almost falls off the desk at Matsukawa’s revelation and the way he suddenly stood up. “I could kiss you right now, Makki.” 

“I’m praying to god, please don’t.” 

You lean against the shoe lockers, humming to yourself as you wonder just what your classmate would need from you, figuring he wanted to properly thank you for the notes. You would accept it and go, knowing that Matsukawa Issei was favored among the girls- 

“You’re here.” 

“This.” You smile softly, holding up a folded note between your fingers as Matsukawa shoves his hand in his slack pockets, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “This made it hard for me not to be, you know?” 

You eye him carefully, stomach sinking at the familiar situation in front of you. 

“You might have already guessed,” Issei breathes, trying to steady the pounding in his ears. “Or Makki might have already told you because he’s a shithead like that-” 

You tilt your head.

“-but I’ve got this killer crush on you. And if you could help me out, I would thoroughly appreciate it.” It comes out business-like, and you almost laugh if it hadn’t been for the weight in your throat. 

“Help you out how?” He doesn’t notice the crack in your voice as he pulls his sleeves up to his forearms, swallowing tightly. 

“I think a date would begin to ease the pain.” 

You really do laugh this time, but it’s not the kind of laugh of amusement. It’s forced, awkward, and makes Issei falter in his smile and movements. 

“Do they ever get bored?” 

All playfulness drains from the middle blocker’s face as his tone hardens. “What are you talking about?” 

“Sure, get the hot guy from the volleyball team to try and ask Y/N out, are you getting it on video?” 

“Y/N-” 

“I’ve gotta go.” you try to step away, eyes widening when he stops you with his much bigger frame. His lidded eyes widen at the tears prodding the corner of your eyes, carefully lifting a hand to swipe at them before looking at you seriously.

“You think I’m hot?” 

You can’t withhold the giggle that escpaes you, sniffling slightly as Matsukawa smiles gently, wrapping his arm around you to touch the small of your back. You yelp a little when you find yourself crushed against his chest, your upper back touching the lockers. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened to you in the past, but-” you look up at the handsome tall boy you had hand-written notes for, hoping your crush on him wasn’t too noticeable. “I can tell you right now that you’re really fuckin’ pretty, and I want to brag to my friends about how hot my girlfriend is-”

“Do you ever stop talking?” You cup his cheek in question as his grin widens. 

“Make me your boyfriend and I’ll show you.” He winks, and you raise both eyebrows in amusement before practically speaking against his lips. 

“I think we can arrange that.” 

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

General Taglist: @ebiharachan @purplefangirl2001 @ssuna @saffyspirals @baes-x @nabisonyeo94 @celestialuffy @uh-what-day-is-it-again @genesisrose74 @takemetovalhalla @thathoneybee3 @animebae100 @jesssobs @tsukkikeiibabe

[babyboibucky]

Charm

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky checks whether he still has his 1940′s charm.

Word Count: 1,613

Warnings: TFATWS spoilers! No warning, just a bit of fluff I guess???

A/N: Nothing really, just that Bucky deserves all the love in the world :’)

Charming (Part 2) || MAIN MASTERLIST

“You should date someone.”

Bucky groans at Yori’s suggestion. Again. The old guy had been pestering him about it ever since they started their little friendship. Introduced girls and forced him to take them out to dinner or bingo. He did try of course, but it always seemed too fast for him.

“I already did, haven’t I? You sort of forced me to go on one, remember?” Bucky asked before downing a glass of sake in one go.

Thank god they went to a different Japanese restaurant this time. His date with the girl at the other restaurant went pretty badly, with him walking out after a particularly sensitive topic and never returning. Bucky felt bad and as much as he wanted to go back there and apologize, he just doesn’t have the courage to show his face again.

“Yeah, well you messed up.” Yori said pointedly.

Bucky chortled, “Or maybe you messed up by forcing me. I told you, you gotta take it slow like a dance. I mean, you don’t just ask anyone to dance with you. You ask someone you’d like to dance with.”

Yori’s shoulders trembled as he tried to bite back his laughter. Bucky made a face when he realized he’d been talking a lot.

“Then go find someone you want to date. Or maybe you just don’t have it in you.” The older man teased.

Bucky couldn’t help but grin, “Sounds like a challenge.”

As Bucky poured himself another glass of sake, he began to wonder whether Yori was right. Maybe he really didn’t have it anymore, the confidence and charm he used to have back in his time.

Only one way to find out.

-

The club was a bad idea. A really bad idea.

Initially, Bucky thought that it would be the perfect place to find someone to date. Apparently not, because despite the presence of beautiful girls, they were pretty much throwing themselves at him. As much as Bucky was curious about the so called “hook-up” culture in the modern times, it just wasn’t for him.

And good god, the dancing? It’s not what it used to be; Bucky wasn’t even sure if he could call those movements “dance”.

Bucky called it a night and quickly headed to the exit. And that’s where he noticed you, fumbling with your phone and clicking your tongue from what seemed to be frustration. He slowed down in his steps, not wanting to interrupt your little moment as you mumbled a string of curses to yourself.

He eyed you from head to toe, noticing that you were wearing something too simple for a club: just a white shirt, some jeans and a pair of sneakers. With Bucky’s experience, he learned to be observant enough to read someone’s personality.

You were definitely not a frequent visitor to these clubs. And he was right about that because you were just forced to tag along to your officemates to celebrate a promotion.

“Ugh, fuck. Come on!” You unintentionally exclaimed out loud, stomping on the ground causing for Bucky to let out a chuckle.

Bucky’s eyes widened when you abruptly turned around, “Oh sorry. I didn’t meant to uhh...are you okay?” He asked timidly, slowly walking over to where you stood.

You huffed out, “I’m trying to book a ride, but the signal here sucks.” You explained. “And I’m not really comfortable to walk home at this hour.” You quickly added.

It was close to ten in the evening, it wasn’t that late yet but given the location and downsides of being a woman, you really didn’t want to risk your safety.

“Won’t your friends give you a ride home?” He asked.

You groaned, “They aren’t really my friends...I just work with them. They’re all shit-faced drunk and I didn’t even plan on coming here. Not a fan of clubs.” You admitted.

Bucky chuckled as he kicked the ground, “Guess that makes two of us.”

Your hum caught Bucky’s attention and when he looked up, you were looking at him suspiciously. For a moment he thought that you might have recognized him but you merely laughed and shook your head.

“You don’t seem like the type to hate clubs. Why are you here then?” You asked curiously.

Bucky shrugged, “Thought I’d find someone here that I can you know...take out on a date.”

You cackled out loud, it was the kind of laughter that made Bucky join in. You probably thought it was stupid for him to come looking for love at a club. And well, given his experience inside, you were correct.

“I know. It’s stupid. I haven’t been to clubs really, so I honestly didn’t know what to expect.” He admitted, rubbing the back of neck sheepishly.

You nodded, “How was your experience inside then?”

“You could say I was pretty shocked. And disoriented. The lights made me dizzy.” Bucky said, widening his eyes in emphasis.

Laughing, you nodded and agreed before introducing yourself so casually. Bucky repeated your name, he liked the way it sounded.

“I’m James.”

Bucky found himself easily opening up to you. The conversations flowed naturally, from something as basic as favorite food down to your mutual hatred for crowded places and everything in between. Bucky learned that you often volunteer at an orphanage and that you hate plums which happens to be his favorite. It resulted to a harmless debate that lasted ten minutes.

You asked him about his work, something that he had to lie his way around. As much as he wanted to be honest with you, he was afraid that revealing the truth might scare you off. You seemed to be really interested in him whenever he talked about his boring daily routine.

“Do you...do you like to talk somewhere else?” Bucky blurted out.

You offered a sad smile, one that broke Bucky’s heart because you were probably going to reject him. Understandable though, he was a stranger and it was late at night. It was hard to trust people nowadays.

“I have work tomorrow morning.” You apologetically said.

“But you can walk me home...if you’d like?” You asked. “I probably sound demanding but uhh, I don’t think I can really book a ride and I don’t want to walk home alone at this hour.”

Bucky heaved out a deep sigh of relief and laughed, “I thought you didn’t like talking to me.” He sheepishly admitted.

“No, I actually like talking to you. You’re fun. And interesting.” You smiled.

Bucky beamed and extended a hand, letting you lead the way before matching your pace. The more he talked to you, the more he realized that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the first person he’d willingly ask out on a date.

The walk lasted half an hour but to Bucky, it only felt like minutes. It was definitely not enough for him to get to know you more.

“Well, this is me.” You announced when you reached your apartment building.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.” You said.

Bucky placed his hands inside his pockets and nodded, “Call me old-fashioned, but I felt like any gentleman should do so.”

Bucky held your gaze and debated how he should ask you out. Should he just blurt out the question? Would that be too soon? Your number! Maybe he should ask for your number first, show his therapist that finally, there was a new number registered in his contacts.

“Well, I should head inside.” You said when Bucky remained silent and although Bucky didn’t want to assume, he thought he saw a look if disappointed in your eyes.

Yori is going to regret saying that he doesn’t have game.

“Wait,” Bucky called out before you could turn around. “Being old-fashioned and all, I know this might be too forward. Or too fast, even.” he trailed and cleared his throat.

“Would you like to go out on a date with me? This Saturday. We can go to the beach, get ice cream...” he suggested.

Wrong move! Out of all the places he could suggest, it just had to be the beach! It’s not like he could wear a long-sleeved top and his gloves without getting dirty looks from people. You were going to find out the truth about him, his arm, his past. And then you’d regret letting him walk you home because who knew what the Winter Soldier was capable of?

“I’d love to.” You replied with a grin but before Bucky could suggest another place, you had already walked up to the front door of your apartment building, pulling it open before suddenly stopping.

“Or we can just take a walk at the park if you want, if that’s more comfortable for you.” You suggested turning your head to look back at Bucky.

He furrowed his brows in confusion. Again, he was unable to say something because you beat him to it with a surprising revelation.

“I’ll wait for you to come pick me up on Saturday. And don’t worry about your arm, I don’t mind. Good night, Bucky.”

And with one final beautiful smile, you headed inside the building leaving Bucky with a confused look. You knew him all along but didn’t say anything. You opened up to him, held his arm when you laughed and still, it didn’t bother you. You didn’t call him out when he lied about working for a mechanic shop, didn’t get scared when he offered to walk you home.

It took a few seconds for Bucky’s brain to process everything. And then he found himself grinning like a fool when he proved something to himself. And well, Yori too.

“Guess I still got it.”

-

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Prompt: Favorite Food Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier Rating: G Content Warnings: None Summary: Jaskier gets Geralt a gift, and it makes Geralt realize he doesn't know enough about what Jaskier likes. He forms a plan to figure it out. ao3

The small cheesecloth package that was dropped in front of him wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but the way that Jaskier hovered as Geralt picked it up was.

“What’s this?” he grunted, sniffing the air subtly. The little package smelled like honey and flour and cream, and the thick, sweet smell of-- “Are those dates?” He pulled the cheesecloth off to reveal a neat little tart, gently browned on the edges, about the size of his palm.

“It is!” Jaskier leaned over him slightly, his arms holding several more packages. He continued, sounding a little nervous. “I know you don’t usually enjoy sweets, but I know the dates are your favorite. Must feed that witcher metabolism, no?”

“No,” Geralt eyed the tart. “Our metabolism is more efficient, not faster.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said, deflating slightly. “Well, if you don’t want it I guess I can--”

“How did you know that date was my favorite?” Geralt interrupted, looking back up at Jaskier. Oddly, he could see the bard color slightly at the question, an appealing pink spreading across his cheekbones.

“You bought a jar of jam from that merchant from Toussaint, remember? You never buy jam, unless it’s for me, so I assumed you must have a preference for it. I mean, unless you don’t, which is fine, I can… Well, not eat it, I hate dates, but I’m sure I can find some mangy child to give it to, or a dog, or something. Do you hate it? You hate it.”

Geralt picked up the tart and bit into it, giving Jaskier a raised eyebrow. It was honestly more of a miniature pie than a tart, the flaky crust filled with dates and prunes covered in a custardy filling, sweetened through with honey. The flavors burst across his tongue, the tart still warm. Jaskier must have picked it up at the market and come directly here to give it to him. Geralt swallowed the first bite, looking into Jaskier’s apprehensive face, and said, “Thanks.”

Jaskier visibly relaxed, shuffling onto the bench across from Geralt and beginning to relay the events of the morning market. Geralt hummed where he was meant to and sipped his watered down ale and ate his tart. If Jaskier noticed his absent mindedness, he said nothing.

Jaskier… knew what his favorite fruit was. The knowledge should not have come as a shock, Geralt knew. Jaskier was often getting him gifts - oil for Roach’s tack, new clothes when Geralt’s last threadbare shirt gave out, potion ingredients when he ran low. Sometimes he bought Geralt useless things, little bobbles or trinkets he saw that he thought Geralt might like or find amusing, and Geralt kept them safely at the bottom of his bag, or in his room at Kaer Morhen. He cherished those things, things that told him Jaskier thought about him when he wasn’t near. It was nice, to be thought of.

But for some reason this little gift felt different. Jaskier had known his favorite food, and Geralt had never told him. Dates weren’t particularly common in the North, and it was rare that they were far south enough to meet merchants who carried them up from Nilfgaard. Geralt could remember when he’d bought the jam, hoping it would last him a while, but he couldn’t recall a single other time in recent memory that he’d eaten dates, or even mentioned them. He didn’t tend to wallow on things that were unavailable to him.

His eyes lingered on Jaskier as he spun a tale about haggling in the square. No, Geralt didn’t make a habit of wishing for what he couldn’t have.

Still, there was a problem at hand, one he had to solve. Jaskier knew Geralt’s favorite food. He might know Geralt’s favorite everything. Did he know that Geralt’s favorite color was blue, the wide, free color of the sky on the first day of spring? Did he know that Geralt’s favorite thing to drink wasn’t wine or vodka, but warm honeyed milk like his mother made when he couldn’t sleep as a tiny child? He certainly knew that Geralt liked the scent of chamomile and sage best in his bathwater, and that he preferred cotton shirts over linen, and that he would pick a song with a sad ending over a happy one. If he’d been paying this much attention, there was probably quite a lot that Jaskier knew about him, without Geralt having said a word.

And he didn’t know a thing about Jaskier.

What was Jaskier’s favorite color? Was it blue, like the doublets he so often wore, or was that just to match his eyes? Did he really like wine the best, or did he just like it better than ale? What was his favorite season? His favorite weather? Did he go to Oxenfurt every winter because it was where he could find work, or did he prefer Novigrad, or Vizima? Geralt could tell how Jaskier was going to react every time someone recognized him on the street, anytime a young lad or lass winked at him, even what he might say if Geralt gave the right sort of hum. But he didn’t know much about him, at the end of the day.

He needed to find out. As they packed up their belongings and set out on the road once again, leaving the small town behind them, Geralt ruminated on what could be done to rectify this situation. He couldn’t very well just ask Jaskier about all these things. After all, Jaskier had figured it all out with nary a word from Geralt. He didn’t need to ask; he was paying attention. Which made Geralt’s chest feel oddly warm and heavy, knowing that Jaskier was watching him, paying heed to his reactions and filing them away. Maybe it should have felt invasive, to know that he was being read so easily without his knowing, but instead it just felt… nice. To be known.

He wanted Jaskier to feel known too. He wanted to know Jaskier.

He would start small. Jaskier had given him food, something he knew Geralt would like. It couldn’t be that difficult to figure out what Jaskier liked. Geralt could start bringing him small things, pass it off as returning the favor, and guage Jaskier’s reaction. It would be simple, he mused, eying Jaskier from atop Roach as they walked side by side. His hair was mussed slightly from sleep, still, and he hadn’t bothered to fix it before heading out for the day. No one to impress, Geralt guessed, just the two of them and the road. He liked Jaskier this way, less pinned up and proper, more open. Letting Geralt see him without all of his armor, because that’s what it was, as surely as the leather on Geralt’s back was his. Right now, Jaskier was an open book. All Geralt had to do was pay enough attention to read him.

*

It was not easy to figure out what Jaskier liked.

The problem, Geralt quickly found, was that Jaskier was enthusiastic about almost everything. Well, that wasn’t strictly true. When he disliked something, he made his distaste abundantly clear. He was dramatic, which should have made it even easier to determine what delighted him the most. Geralt expected that, when he found it, poetic stanzas would be flowing like wine from Jaskier’s tongue, praising whatever it was. He had no reason to expect Jaskier to be subtle about his preferences.

And he wasn’t. The issue was that he seemed to react with the exact same level of excitement about everything Geralt brought him. On the first day they arrived in a new town, Geralt went to the market and brought Jaskier a small basket of strawberries, which Jaskier enthused over for half the morning. Geralt was pleased. Maybe it had been that easy, and he’d intuitively known what Jaskier liked. Maybe he had unconsciously been paying attention all along. He congratulated himself on figuring out at least one piece of the puzzle, and began thinking about how he might approach the next step.

But then he unthinkingly bought Jaskier a few sweetbreads when he was out the next day getting lunch. He’d been getting himself some, he thought of Jaskier sitting in their shared room, composing a ballad about the hunt Geralt had been on the night previously. He’d brought him the extra meats, and Jaskier had nearly the same reaction. Gushing over the gift, thanking Geralt for thinking of him. Lamenting his own forgetfulness, for getting so caught up in his work that he would forget to eat, as Geralt expected he might have. And Geralt was confused, because he didn’t think a few offal from a market stall in a half pint city in Velen was what Jaskier would like. Certainly not something he could call a favorite.

But he’d reacted the same to the sweetbreads as the berries. So Geralt was back to square one.

He reevaluated his metrics. So Jaskier reacted that way to anything he liked, apparently. It was odd; Geralt had seen Jaskier enthusiastically dig into a wide variety of foods over the years, but he didn’t praise them and rave about them the way he had done the berries and the meats. So he must have legitimately enjoyed both of them more than he would any old dish. But neither of them had seemed to outweigh the other. He still didn’t know what Jaskier liked best.

Over the next several weeks of their travel, Geralt bought Jaskier enough tortas and crepes and stews that he knew it was boarding on suspicious behavior. If it was any other situation, any other two people, he knew it might come off like courtship. Every time he offered Jaskier some new morsel, he could feel the back of his neck grow hot at the implications. But Jaskier only ever grinned in delight at whatever Geralt offered him, flushed and pleased no more or less than he had been at all the others. If he suspected any sort of foul play, he never said anything.

It was infuriating. After three weeks of spending more coin that he cared to count at markets and roadside stalls and taverns, he was no closer to figuring out Jaskier’s favorite food than he had been at the outset. It all seemed to go over well, which was gratifying, but he couldn’t tell what Jaskier liked the most of it all. Maybe he just wasn’t as good at reading Jaskier as he thought. He’d thought he was a master of it, at this point - he could tell when Jaskier was tired during a performance, even though his smile never flagged; he could tell when Jaskier was being dramatic about an injury and when he was actually in pain; he could tell the difference between righteous anger versus petty versus hurt. In most respects he felt like Jaskier was an open book, but there was nothing in his reactions to Geralt’s gifts that said he was anything less than entirely pleased to receive them.

He was running out of ideas. Giving Jaskier gifts one at a time was clearly not working; either none of them were right, or Geralt was misremembering Jaskier’s enthusiasm for the ones in the past. He needed to give Jaskier a selection and see for himself what was best, side by side.

It took another week to plan, mostly due to location. They needed to stay in one place for a few days, so that Geralt could collect the things he would need, and it was rare that the two of them were in one town for more than a day. Large contracts were few and far between, and it never took Geralt more than a single night to clear out some ghouls or drowners from an area.

As luck would have it, however, they were only a few days out from Carreras. Geralt pointed them in that direction, claiming that they would likely be able to find multiple contracts in one place there, and that Jaskier could take a few days to play for their small selection of inns and taverns. It wasn’t entirely a lie; there probably would be more contracts posted in a larger settlement, which would mean a solid few jobs to refill Geralt’s pockets. He would need the extra coin to execute his plan.

The first two days of their stay were filled mostly with real work. The city had been having issues with contaminated water, which sent Geralt out to investigate all the wells, and by the time he found the drowner that had fallen into the water supply a full day had passed. He was able to fill another two contracts on their second day, but the triple confrontations over less than 48 hours left him feeling bruised and exhausted.

It was Jaskier who suggested it, in the end. Pulling a comb through Geralt’s hair as the witcher let himself soak in the bath, Jaskier said, “What if we stayed for an extra day or two? The crowds have been good, and Barclay - the innkeeper, I don’t know if you’ve spoken to him - he offered us a discount if I play tonight and tomorrow.” His hand fell to Geralt’s shoulder, warm and comforting. “You could… take a few days.”

It had been his plan to stay, but Geralt felt an ache behind his breastbone at Jaskier’s careful suggestion. Always trying to take care of him, as if Geralt were someone who needed protecting, someone who deserved something like a vacation. He didn’t think he did, but it was nice, as always, to think that Jaskier cared. “Hmm,” was all he said, a soft sound of agreement. His eyes slipped shut as he basked in the quiet content of Jaskier’s company, and they said nothing else on the matter.

The next day he felt rejuvenated, the burn of overexertion in his muscles faded after a hard night’s sleep. Jaskier had played after getting him out of the bath and settled into bed, but he’d returned later, smelling of sweat and rosemary and catgut. Geralt had slept well with his solid weight by his side, pressed into the too-slim bed.

He spent most of the day preparing. The market was busy and bursting when he found it in the afternoon, though not as packed as he was used to seeing in larger settlements like Novigrad. There was a bakery on the corner from which the rich scent of fresh bread spilled out into the square, and the people at the stalls were standing around amiably, chatting about local affairs and peddling their individual wares to one and other. It was a homey little trade network, and despite his strangeness, Geralt didn’t feel unwelcome.

He made several minor purchases before he found his way to the bakery. It wasn’t as crowded as he’d feared, and he waited until the one or two customers before him had made their way out. The woman working the counter was twig thin despite her occupation, thin blonde hair tied up away from her face and covered by a light cloth, probably to keep flour out of it. Her eyes were blue, pale as diamonds. Geralt couldn’t help but think that Jaskier’s were nicer.

He made her nervous, it was easy to see, but she quickly warmed to him when he told her what he was looking for. Whether it was his gold that excited her or his plan, he couldn’t say, but regardless she helped him pick out his desired items with enthusiasm.

“If you’re planning to use them later tonight, I can make up a basket and have it ready for you. So nothing goes cold,” she explained, her forearms resting on the counter. “The pies are really best that way.”

Geralt nodded, and handed over her coin.

Jaskier would be back soon from where he was playing the lunch crowd at one of the taverns. Geralt rushed back to their room and put the purchases he had with him at the bottom of his pack, a blanket spread over them. Jaskier returned not fifteen minutes later, flushed and grinning. A successful performance, then. Good. When Jaskier was in a good mood he was more amenable to doing what Geralt said. “When do you play this evening?” Geralt asked, not looking up from where he was cleaning his sword at the small table they’d been provided.

Jaskier set his lute case down gently against the wall and then flung off his doublet with much less care, flopping down on to the bed. Geralt forced himself to keep his eyes on his work, though the image that awaited him - Jaskier, spread out, his shirt falling open to reveal the smooth line of his throat and his sharp collar bones - burned against the back of his eyes anyways. “Not until nightfall,” Jaskier answered with a content sigh. “After the dinner crowd. Why? Do you have plans?”

“Do you remember where we stopped on the first day, the hill just before town? By the brook.” He set his steel sword aside and reached for the silver, which was the one that truly needed attention. So many contracts in a row had left her chipped in a few places, and dull all around. Geralt set his whetstone down, but didn’t draw it across the blade yet. Waiting for Jaskier’s answer. He felt his stomach twist with something like nerves, which was ridiculous. This wasn’t anything risky, anything that Jaskier would read into - probably. Probably.

“Sure,” Jaskier answered easily.

“Can you meet me there?” Geralt asked. “An hour or so before you have to play?”

He heard Jaskier sit up, could feel the bard looking at him curiously. His gaze warmed the side of Geralt’s face, and he refused to look up and meet those bright blue eyes. “Did something happen? Do we need to get out of town?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, amusement bubbling up within him. “No. Nothing bad. Just… meet me?”

Jaskier was silent for a long moment, long enough that Geralt gave up and turned to look at him. He was regarding Geralt with a curious expression, almost guarded. But all he said was, “Alright. I can do that.”

Geralt nodded, satisfied, and returned to his task.

*

He left before Jaskier, stating the need to drop by the herbalist's shop and that if he wasn’t back - as he didn’t intend to be - that Jaskier should go to the meeting place on his own. Geralt made his own way back to the bakery, where his basket of goods was waiting as promised. He tipped the girl well, and set out with his pack containing the blanket and other purchases on his shoulder, and the basket on his arm.

It was a nice evening, warm and thick with the last hints of summer. It would be fall soon; he could taste it in the faint hint of decay that lingered on his tongue whenever he took a deep breath of the air beyond the city. But for now it was still hot enough during the day that the evenings were comfortable. Geralt found his way back along the road to where they’d stopped to water Roach at the nearby stream, just before the landscape dropped down into the shallow valley that held the large town. He made his way off the path, far enough away that they wouldn’t be obvious from the road, to a raised patch of earth that looked down over the fields as they spread out below. It was a lovely sight, the landscape rich in the evening light, the dying sun casting the rooftops of the city in rich gold. Jaskier would appreciate the scenery, at least.

Geralt quickly set up, laying out the blanket and pulling out the supplies from the basket. He’d maybe gone slightly overboard. There was a meat pie, several stuffed rolls, a hearty cabbage stew in two small bowls kept covered by plates tied to them; a loaf of fresh rye bread, with cheese and jam and honey to go with it; berries and apples with cream; a plethora of desserts, including an entire apple pie, along with little marzipan candies and several little cakes. Two bottles of wine, one white, one red. As he laid out item after item, Geralt felt unease stir within him. It was too much, he realized, seeing it all together. That had been his goal, after all, to see Jaskier eat as many things as possible, to get a sense, at least, of where his preferences lay. But this was overwhelming. Jaskier would realize something was amiss. A picnic, laid out in perfect detail, in the warm light of the evening, fields spread out beyond them and the forest to their back. It was obviously, sickeningly romantic, he realized. So very obviously beyond what one might do to spend an hour eating dinner with a friend. Panic rose in his throat, choking him, and he grabbed one of the wine bottles, thinking to put it away. If he could put some of it back, maybe it wouldn’t look so much like--

“Geralt?”

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, fighting the desire to curse, and turned around. He hoped none of his apprehension showed on his face.

Jaskier was a few feet away, carrying nothing but his lute on his back. He was looking down at the spread with a shocked expression, eyebrows pulled up nearly into his hairline and eyes open wide. “What’s… all this?” he asked, his gaze flickering back up to meet Geralt’s.

“Dinner,” Geralt grunted, putting the wine bottle down. In for a penny, he thought grimly.

He watched several different expressions flicker across Jaskier’s face, too quick to parse. For a moment Geralt thought he looked almost… sad, or maybe anxious, but then he broke into a wide grin. The honest delight pouring off of him made Geralt let out a slight sigh, relief blooming in his chest. “Oh, well isn’t this just wondrous,” Jaskier laughed. He pulled his lute from his shoulder and set it in the grass beside the blanket, and folded himself down amongst Geralt’s offerings. A hand reached up towards him. “Are you going to join me?” Jaskier asked, raising a playful eyebrow. Geralt grumbled, but carefully sat down next to the bard and began dishing out the food.

It was good, all of it, but Geralt hardly paid it any mind, focused entirely on Jaskier’s reactions. The constant flow of conversation was interrupted every time Jaskier took a bite of something new - “This is delicious, have you tried this yet?” and “We must find out what spices they used for this stew, it’s absolutely the best I’ve had in months” and “Geralt, where did you find marzipan? Look at these little things, the details are impressive.” Throughout it all, Geralt watched his face, listened to his words, paid attention to what he returned to and what he didn’t.

And by the end, he was ready to tear his hair out.

Jaskier seemed to enjoy everything. He finished every helping he took, praised every dish, thanked Geralt for each and every selection he’d made. Even with so many choices, it didn’t seem to matter. Jaskier liked them all, but Geralt couldn’t tell what he liked the best. Not the way Jaskier apparently could do for him.

Finally Jaskier flopped back into the grass, one hand on his stomach. “I don’t think I’ve been so full in years,” he groaned, staring up at the sky with heavy eyelids. “Probably since the last banquet I played at. You really outdid yourself, my dear.”

Fuck it. He had to ask. “Anything you liked in particular?”

Jaskier hummed, closing his eyes. “Mm, how could I choose? Everything was so lovely.”

Frustration clawed at him. Before he could stop himself, Geralt heard himself ask, “Do you even have a favorite food?”

Immediately he clamped his mouth shut, jaw clenched hard. He hadn’t meant to ask that. He wasn’t supposed to, he was supposed to--

“Oh, I don’t know if I have a favorite favorite,” Jaskier droned, blinking his eyes open to peer up at the sky again, this time with a thoughtful expression on his face. “There’s just such a range, you know. I suppose when it comes to desserts, there’s these custards that they make in Toussaint, have you had them? Tiny things, very sweet, with saffron and cinnamon. Delicious. We’ll have to get some next we go so far south.”

Geralt was hardly listening, even though he knew that had been the entire point. He’d failed. Jaskier had told him the answer to his question, which meant he was never going to have the chance to prove that he could learn Jaskier as Jaskier had learned him. He couldn’t prove his friendship, his affection, through his actions. Jaskier would never be interested in Geralt the way that Geralt was in him, but he’d hoped he could at least let some of his true feelings bleed into his actions, into the careful way he paid attention. Jaskier had already done so as nothing more than Geralt’s friend. Now he would never be able to pay him back in kind, not truly.

Jaskier turned his head to look at him, brow furrowed curiously. He must have been silent for too long. Geralt quickly schooled his features into neutrality, but some of his distress must have peaked through, because Jaskier frowned at him. Geralt could feel the incoming conversation before Jaskier even opened his mouth. He tried to get ahead of it, talking over the beginning of Jaskier’s soft inquiry. “We should head back,” he grunted, rising abruptly to his feet. “You have to play.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier said, in a tone that made Geralt’s stomach fill with dread. That was Jaskier’s no nonsense, absolutely-you-will-not-be-getting-out-of-this tone. He turned back towards Jaskier, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The bard had clamoured to his feet when Geralt stood up, and was now stepping around the blanket towards him. Geralt wanted to retreat further, to shove the remains of the picnic back in his bag and hide the evidence, but he knew it wouldn’t save him. He was being too obvious, and Jaskier knew him too well.

The bard eyed him suspiciously, but there was a note of concern in the way his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?” Jaskier asked, this time a bit softer. “I thought we were having a lovely time.”

“We… It was. It was nice. I just think it’s time to go.” Jaskier gave him a shrewd look. Not buying it then. Geralt sighed. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s not you.”

“I certainly hope not,” Jaskier chuckled. The sound was thin, like that was exactly what he had been worried about. “You’ve been acting strange for weeks. I wondered if-- Well. But if it’s not about me, it’s something else? Are you trying to butter me up for something? Is there a big scary adventure you’re about to tell me I’m not allowed to come on?” His gaze turned sharp again, but this time there was something like fear underneath it. “Are you leaving me behind?”

“No,” Geralt said quickly, his hands rising in a placating manner. “I’m not leaving you, Jaskier, I swear it. It’s just…” He petered off, unsure how to continue. How to explain.

“It’s just what?” Jaskier demanded. “Why have you been so damnably nice to me lately? Are you dying?” His eyes widened. “Am I dying?”

“No, Jaskier, of course not, just--”

“Then why the gifts?” Jaskier spread his hands around their little picnic, an easy example of exactly what he was talking about.

Geralt’s resistance shattered. “I was trying to figure you out,” he snapped. “I don’t know you, not like you know me. You know everything about me. You pay attention, even when I don’t say anything. You knew I liked dates because I bought jam months ago. You know me better than anyone, but I don’t know you. I don’t know what your favorite food is, or your favorite color, or what you like to wear, or what your favorite kinds of songs are, or your favorite season. I’ve been looking. I tried to figure it out, I tried to bring things I thought you would like and see what you liked best, but it seems like you like everything. You don’t always… say what you mean. I can’t tell when you’re faking and when you’re not.” Geralt was tense, fists clenched at his sides, jaw hard. He knew he looked angry. Jaskier probably thought he was mad at him, for some reason, but all Geralt felt was fear. He wasn’t good enough. Jaskier had to see that now. Geralt had known him for years, and he couldn’t even say whether Jaskier preferred blueberry jam to strawberry. What kind of friend was he?

A hand took his, gently pulling his fingers apart. He jerked his head over to stare as Jaskier stepped forward to slip their fingers together, squeezing softly. When he looked up, Jaskier was regarding him fondly.

“My favorite color is yellow,” he said. “I wear the silk doublets a lot, because they’re in fashion, but I prefer a linen shirt because it’s not as sweaty. I like songs about adventure, but books about romance.” His other hand lifted to brush a bit of hair away from where it was stuck to Geralt’s warm cheek. His expression was difficult to look at, earnest and painfully affectionate. Geralt was trapped by those blue eyes, like falling into a clear sky. “And my favorite season is spring. You could have just asked.”

Geralt swallowed. “You never had to. I just didn’t want you to… I don’t want you to think that I don’t pay attention.”

“Oh,” Jaskier said, laughing a little, “I know you’re not always paying attention. I’m talking constantly. There’s a lot to keep up with. I know you tune me out most of the time, it’s fine.”

“I’m still paying attention to you,” Geralt insisted, because it was important, critical that Jaskier know that even when he wasn’t listening, he was still attuned to Jaskier. His presence, his voice, the sound of his heartbeat always in the back of Geralt’s mind. Whenever the bard was around he could scarcely focus on anything else.

“Knowing my favorite color or food or what have you isn’t what proves that you’re my friend,” Jaskier said, still smiling. “You know me. It’s alright.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me if you didn’t like the things I brought you?” Geralt asked, feeling unmoored. “You acted like you loved everything.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, but his chuckle was nervous. The hand he held in Geralt’s was sweaty, and his heartbeat, always in Geralt’s ears, was a bit fast. “Well, they were from you,” he said with a half shrug. “Of course I loved them.”

“But they weren’t--”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jaskier interrupted, soft but firm. There was a slight, bitter twist in his lips that Geralt wanted to wipe away. “I just… like to know that you’re thinking of me.”

They were standing so close together. Jaskier’s hand was in his, palm to sweaty palm. They were nearly of a height, but Jaskier was just the tiniest bit shorter, so he had to tilt his chin up ever so slightly to meet Geralt’s eyes. Now it was Jaskier who was tense, his shoulders squared as if to absorb a blow. He nervously dragged his teeth over his lower lip, leaving the hint of an impression in the soft flesh. Geralt watched raptly, swallowing against the urge to soothe the spot with his tongue. “I’m always thinking of you,” he finally said.

Jaskier took a shuddering breath, and Geralt watched as his eyes dropped down to flicker over Geralt’s mouth before they dragged back up to meet his gaze again. “When I saw all of it spread out like that, I thought maybe it meant something,” he said, nearly a whisper.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, helplessly. He lifted the hand not clutched in Jaskier’s toward his neck, tracing his fingers along the delicate line of Jaskier’s throat. Jaskier’s other hand came up to fist in Geralt’s shirt, inhaling sharply at his touch. It was an intoxicating sound, making his head spin more than the bottle of wine they’d consumed between them.

“Did it mean something more?” Jaskier pleaded, his eyes bright. His hand clutched at the fabric over Geralt’s heart, the fingers between his own tightening in a deathgrip. “Did it?”

“Yes,” Geralt said, and leaned forward to kiss him.

Jaskier gasped at the first press of their lips, opening for Geralt easily and without hesitation. He tasted like sweet white wine and meat pie and marzipan, and Geralt greedily mined the flavors from Jaskier’s tongue. He tried to pour all of the things he found himself unable to say into the press of his teeth against Jaskier’s lip, into the flick of his tongue against the roof of his mouth and the way his fingers tangled delicately in Jaskier’s hair. Jaskier gave as good as he got, humming encouragingly into Geralt’s mouth and hauling him closer by the hand in his shirt. He didn’t release Geralt’s hand from where he held it in his own, and Geralt made no move to extract himself.

Finally, Jaskier pulled back, panting against Geralt’s lips as he set their foreheads together. His eyes were closed, and Geralt watched them flicker open, savoring the dazed expression on his face. “I think I’m going to be late to play that show,” Jaskier rasped, and a thrill went through Geralt at the sound. And indeed, the sun had begun to set, dipping over the edge of the mountains in the far, far distance, coloring the air around them in rich purples and reds. Jaskier’s face was soft and ethereal in the glow, and Geralt never wanted to let him go, never wanted to leave this moment.

“Why spring?” Geralt found himself asking.

Jaskier smiled, and his face softened even further. “Because it’s when I get to see you again, of course. You should have known all along; you’re my favorite.”

It was a corny sentiment, and by Jaskier’s grin he knew it, but Geralt couldn’t help the way it warmed him up from the inside out, radiating out from within him and making his lips pull into an answering grin. He leaned in and kissed Jaskier again, and again, and a third time, in quick succession, each more soft and lingering than the last. When he was finished Jaskier had that dazed looking expression back on his face, and Geralt decided it was a good look on him. “Want to know something?” he asked, teasing. Jaskier nodded, the hand on Geralt’s chest snaking up to wrap around his neck, holding the both of them close. Geralt leaned in to press his lips just behind Jaskier’s ear, to press his secret against the soft skin there.

“You’re my favorite too,” he rumbled, and Jaskier laughed, bright and joyful, and both of them knew that it was true.

~

This is my last s&s fic!! So excited to be done with the challenge, and happy that I was able to finish! Thank you to all those who encouraged me over the last two months, your kind words and support mean more than I could say <3

tag list: @llamasdumpsterfire, @theamazingbard

[kueble]

Bloom

Written for the @thewitcherbog Team bingo prompt: Gardening. Working with my team members @dani-dandelino and @herostag.

Teen, Warnings: none. 700 words.

Jaskel

---

Jaskier follows the footprints in the snow, crossing the courtyard from the main entrance to the keep to the small glass enclosure tucked in the corner. He hadn't noticed it at first, but Geralt promised that Eskel will be here. Apparently he spends most of his free time in the greenhouse. Shivering, he pulls his cloak tighter and hurries towards the building. Kaer Morhen had been large and intimidating when they first arrived, but the blanket of snow serves to mellow it a bit. Now it looks almost lonely against the white of winter.

Eskel looks up when he enters, a soft smile on his face that tugs at the scarred corner of his mouth and shows off his exposed canine. Jaskier prides himself on finally being allowed to see these true smiles, something he's worked hard for over the past month. He shuts the door behind him, blocking out the cold. It takes him a moment to realize that the greenhouse is sweltering, even in the middle of winter.

"Oh, it's warm in here," Jaskier says as he peels off his cloak.

"It's enchanted," Eskel mumbles, pointing up at ruins glowing brightly along the top of the walls. Jaskier spins in a circle and takes them all in, once again amazed by the ingenuity of his witchers. "One of the only things that survived the sacking. No clue how, but it keeps my babies warm all year long."

"Your babies?" Jaskier asks, utterly charmed by this man. He's been pursuing him since they arrived, but Eskel seems to be confused by it. Perhaps he's not used to the kind of easy flirting Jaskier excels at. Geralt clams up at the first sign of affection, so it would make sense his brother-in-arms would, too.

"Just, uh...I mean, the plants," Eskel says, running a hand over his scarred cheek. He shrugs and flushes a little before continuing, "I spend the most time with them, so I guess I've claimed them as my own. Everything in here can be used for either potions or cooking. I guess taking care of something gives me some kind of purpose for the winter? Vesemir takes over when I'm not here, but I like watching things grow, making things bloom."

"You're a lot like this greenhouse," Jaskier offers as he steps closer. "A bright sanctuary in the middle of an ice-cold keep." He looks up at Eskel, who seems to realize how close they are, and both men go still for a long moment before Eskel breaks the silence with a snort.

"Don't go spouting poetry at me. I'm nothing but a run down witcher," Eskel says with a soft smile. Jaskier shakes his head and reaches up, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind his ear.

"That's where you're wrong," Jaskier tells him, meaning every word of it, "you're a lot more than you realize. You're out there providing hope in a world of ruin. All of you are. And you, Eskel, you're building something beautiful in here. Sure, the plants all have their secondary purpose - potions and stews - but they're also stunning and you've made that happen. I'm constantly amazed by you."

"Oh, hush," Eskel mutters, his cheeks going red as he stares down at Jaskier, awe in his eyes. "You'll make me think there's something in those pretty words of yours."

"There is, if you'll let it," Jaskier whispers. He reaches up and cups Eskel's face in one palm, brushing his thumb across the dirt streaked cheek. He rubs against the dirt, cleaning his scarred skin as Eskel nuzzles his hand. He's so entranced that he nearly misses Eskel's next words.

"Pretty sure I'd let you do just about anything right now," Eskel says, chuckling as he gazes down at Jaskier with so much hope spread across his features that it makes Jaskier's heart ache.

"Gonna hold you to that," Jaskier tells him before standing on his tip-toes and pressing their mouths together. Eskel kisses him greedily, his plush lips taking charge as he pulls Jaskier closer.

Jaskier loses himself in the kiss, in the warmth of Eskel surrounding him in the middle of their own private oasis. He clings to Eskel, letting the kiss overwhelm him as their mouths slant together. It's easy to forget the rest of the world when they're surrounded by the heat of the greenhouse and the scent of blossoms hanging in the air.

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

Bundle of joy [Sirius Black x Reader] ['What they call home' OS] - Requested

Title: Bundle of joy Pairing: Sirius Black x Lestrange!Female!Reader Word count: 1.4k Published: 9 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: When you realise there’s a little baby growing in your belly, it terrifies you. Both you and Sirius had a rough childhood and now that there’s a new life inside you, your ability to raise a child concerns you, especially as you’re in the middle of a war. Notes: Part of the series What they call home, but can be read separately. Request: [x] by Anonymous

"Because I love Drama and the Lestrange X Sirius so much - Could you do an extra OS where Lestrange tells him that she is pregnant? Before that she is very distant (Generally afraid of the pregnancy and afraid of becoming like her parents as a mother) and often met a healer from the Order to ask what she is allowed to do/ not to do. 😊 (Of course only if you have time to do it)"

Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes​​

Square filled: Fix it fic

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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It’s been 2 weeks. 2 whole weeks since you found out. 14 days exactly. 336 hours, 20160 minutes, 1209600 seconds. However you kept calculating, it still felt like forever. There was no doubt, no way to avoid the inevitable. As you walked out of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, you were trying to grasp the idea of having a tiny human growing in your belly. A life that you were to nurture for the next 7 months within you. You were supposed to be happy, full of life, planning creative ways to tell all your loved ones. But how could you. The only thoughts that came to you were anything but positive. Your parents made your life a living hell, your bothers were death eaters and as difficult it was to admit it, you were one of them, even though you didn’t agree with their views.

How were you supposed to raise a child when the only examples you have been taught were how to hate? How were you to raise a child when you didn’t even know how to hold one? But most of all, how were you to tell Sirius, the man who meant more to you than anyone in your life? Children or family for that matter never came up in your conversations. You just couldn’t imagine walking up to him, stating your findings as simple facts. The man would have gotten a heart attack.

You were seated in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and an enchanted polaroid photo of a tiny smudge that barely even resembled a baby just yet. You jumped in your seat as you heard the entrance door open and quickly hid the photo in your pocket. It wasn’t the right time, you weren’t ready to tell him just yet.

Sirius walked towards the kitchen, halting in the doorway, peeking in the room to catch a sight of you. “Hello, love,” he called with a soft smile across his face. As he approached you, his steps felt heavy and uncertain. But it was no surprise to you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked as he stepped beside you and hinted a small kiss on the top of your hair, but once again, just like you have done many times before, you pulled away from him.

“I’m— I’m good,” you replied with a faux smile, trying to stop him from worrying, but you knew he realised your distant behaviour. He kneeled beside your chair, getting hold of your hands, holding them gently, drawing little circles on your knuckles.

“I know something is wrong. I know you are trying to hide something. If you are not ready to tell me, that is fine, but please don’t lie to me,” he pleaded with you as he left a small kiss on the back of your hand, reassuring you that he was ready to wait for you to open up.

“I just need you to give me a bit more time,” you whispered, your breath shaky and uncertain as you squeezed Sirius’ hands.

“As long as you need,” he offered you a sweet and genuine smile as he let go of your hands and cupped your cheeks, kissing you on your lips. His mere touch always made you feel safe, as though nothing could ever hurt you. But you knew in that moment that you were more afraid than ever.

“I wish that was true,” you sighed heavily, averting your eyes. “I’m scared, Sirius,” you exhaled, leaning forward and placing your forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Love, what are you afraid of?” He asked in confusion, running his hand through the back of your hair, trying to sooth your worries.

“Will I be like them?” You asked, earning a questioning humming sound from Sirius. “Like my parents. Will I be as horrible as them? I’m their blood after all,” you heaved a heavy sigh, your breath hitching as tears started escaping down your cheeks, soaking Sirius’ thick coat.

“Where is this coming from?” He asked, stunned. “You are nothing like your parents or your brothers. You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, both inside and out. And if you don’t believe me, ask yourself, have I ever lied to you? As far as I’m concerned, I have not. You are nothing like your family. Can you please tell me where all this is coming from? You are making me really worried,” he pleaded with you as he hinted a small kiss on your temple.

“Do you really think I’m nothing like them?” You asked as you leaned back to look into his smoky eyes, needing reassurance.

“Anything but, love,” he replied with a soft smile, hoping to cheer you up, earning a small smile from you.

“Sirius— erm, I was thinking— what do you think about children?” You tried to bring up the subject as softly as you could. If you could, you could have delayed the inevitable, but as he kneeled in front of you with a worried look across his face, you knew you couldn’t leave him in the dark any longer.

“Children?” He asked with a deep frown across his brows, your question catching him off guard. “I like them, I guess. I mean I have a really good relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione and it seems little Teddy likes me too,” he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“And what do you think about having your own child?” You questioned, feeling your heart took on a faster pace, your palms sweating in your nervous state.

His eyes widened, your question surprising him. “What— what do you mean?” He asked stuttering, but you just bit on your lower lip and let your head fall forward whilst playing with your fingers. “Hold on a minute, do you mean— as in you and me— are we going to be parents?” He asked with a shocked expression, lips widely parted, eyes growing round. You weren’t sure what to say, how to say it or what would be the right words to use, so instead you nodded. “Is there going to be a little you and me— a miniature us running around?” He repeated as if needing further reassurance, he didn’t misinterpret your gesture.

“Yes— there is going to be a little one running around in approximately 7 months,” you replied with an awkward smile as you placed your hand on your belly, with the other reaching for the photo in your pocket. He took it from you, his face turning pale for a second, realisation hitting him hard, before his lips started curving up into a small smile.

“That— that is absolutely brilliant,” he began to chuckle as a wide grin spread across his face. “Just imagine what a handful he or she is going to be,” he laughed.

“Are you not afraid?” You asked.

“Of what exactly?” He furrowed his brows.

“Of us not being good parents? We are both from families that do not have a good record in providing a loving home,” you voiced your concerns.

“Not at all,” he smiled proudly. “If anything, we know best what we were missing and what we would like to do for that little one. We can use the lack of love we had as an advantage, because now we know how important it is for a child to be brought up in a healthy, loving family,” he took your hand in his, gently squeezing it.

“But Sirius, we are in the middle of a war,” you retorted, still unsure of your ability of bringing up a child.

“We are in the middle of a war now and we were in the middle of a war over a decade ago. You can’t stop the circle of life because of evil people. Don’t think about all the negativities. Think about the fact that I love you, you love me, and we will have a beautiful bundle of joy who we will love just as much,” a content smile spread across Sirius’ face. “At least little Teddy will have a playmate,” he chuckled playfully as he pulled you up into a standing position and sneaked his arms around your waist. “I love you and I already love that little ankle-biter more than anything,” he whispered into your ear.

“I have no idea how I got to be so lucky to have you,” you replied with tears filling up your eyes.

“Those better be happy tears,” he raised a questioning brow, his foolish smile still plastered across his face.

“Only,” you chuckled as you cupped his face and pulled him down to meet your lips halfway. “I love you so much,” you breathed against his lips, before you closed the gap between the two of you once again.

Notes: If you enjoyed reading this little piece, please don’t forget to leave a like, comment and/or reblog. Your opinion matters and gives us motivation. Thank you ^^

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[writethelifeyouwant]

Make Him Look - Ch 1 / 2

Pairing: Cordell Walker x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: flirting, many many drinks, jealousy, dancing, slow burn Word Count: 3k Created for: @walker-bingo - In Vino Veritas | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Jealousy A/N: Written with the lovely @thinkinghardhardlythinking in mind ❤️and y'all can also blame her for the fact it got so long I split it into two 😂

Cordell swings his leg over a barstool and settles into his usual spot. The bar is busy but not crowded. There’s a few more empty stools awaiting occupants for the night, and Cordell hooks one with his foot and draws it closer, popping his hat down to save the seat for Liam, who’s on his way. But there’s no reason to wait for Liam before he orders – they get the same thing every time.

“Barkeep! Can I get some queso, hot wings, and whatever Pinthouse you’ve got on draft?”

“Sure thing, man,” the kid behind the bar drawls, his accent thick and voice lazy. Cordell would bet anything the guy had had a joint on his break earlier, but he’s off duty – tonight is not about busting people for drugs, tonight is about letting loose. He checks his phone to see if Liam had texted him that he’d left the office yet, but there is nothing there. Taking a sip of the drink that has just been plopped on a coaster in front of him, Cordell scans the room. It’s a bad habit that every law enforcement worker he’s ever met has developed. Even when he’s trying to relax and blow off some steam, he can’t help being a little vigilant.

He takes in the tableaus around him; the groups of kids from the local community college, the gaggle of mid to late aged men in awful polos that Cordell recognises as the inner city bowling league, a couple of less savoury looking guys playing pool, the cluster of women those guys keep eyeing up – he’ll keep an eye on that one.

Checking his phone again and taking another drink, he still hasn’t heard anything from Liam. He opens his brother’s contact and is about to give him a call to tell him to get his ass in gear when someone suddenly reaches down beside him, picks up his hat and drops it back on his head while they slide into the seat he’d been saving - except it’s not Liam.

“Hey you,” the stranger says familiarly, bumping her shoulder against his. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

You shrug out of your jacket and sling it over your arm as you head up to the worn wood counter of the bar. You don’t see your friend yet, so you decide to go ahead and order a drink while you wait for her to show. She’s always late, you should have just assumed and shown up fifteen minutes from now. You play on your phone as you wait for the bartender to finish serving the gang of people at the other end of the bar. When you feel someone in front of you, you look up, about to order a glass of wine, except one is already being placed on the bar top in front of you.

You stare questioningly at the kid serving you the drink. You’d been here before, sure, but you’re hardly a regular, and even if you were you don’t recognise this server – so why does he know what you were about to order?

“Um, I didn’t–” you start but the kid interrupts you.

“From the gentleman at the end of the bar, milady,” he gave a geeky little bow, “Sorry, he told me to say it like that,” he grimaces at himself. You chance a fleeting look back to the group you’d noticed him serving a few minutes ago and to your horror, you recognise your ex, Dirk, grinning back at you. He tips the brim of his ball cap and gives you a wink, like he’s expecting you to be impressed that he remembers you drink red wine. Shit, this is not how this night is supposed to go. You’re supposed to be here to get drunk with your best friend and have a bit of a dance, not be looking over your shoulder the whole night hoping that jerk leaves you alone.

Panicking a little now, you check your phone but there’s no text from Lea telling you when to expect her. Knowing her like you do, you would bet anything she won’t be here soon, and you don’t want to wait on your own and risk Dirk coming to talk to you. Desperately, you scan your eyes around the bar, cataloguing your options and escape routes. Someone catches your eye a few seats along from where you are. Tall, broad – dark and handsome, your mind supplies unhelpfully – but what really catches your eye is the badge hanging from his belt. He’s a Ranger.

Normally, you’d pick a group of girls who you know would happily pretend to know you so you don’t have to wait alone but you know Dirk, and you know he won’t be shy enough to let any number of girls stop him from coming to ruin your night. But a guy - and a Texas Ranger at that – Dirk wouldn’t dare. He had an outstanding DUI, and he’d always been a bit of a chicken around cops anyways.

Choice made, you grab the wine he’d bought you – hey, you’re not made of money, free booze is free booze – and you march purposefully over to the Ranger, who’s checking his phone and not paying attention until you grab his black cowboy hat off the chair next to him. Clearly he had been saving it for someone, and you want Dirk to think that someone is you.

“Hey you,” you chirp, placing his hat back on his head as you slide into the seat he’d been saving, “Thanks for saving me a seat.” You smile at the Ranger long enough to see him looking at you completely perplexed before you glance back to Dirk and see him watching you with a scowl. You let yourself feel inwardly triumphant and turn back to the man you’d just decided to befriend, if only temporarily.

Swivelling back towards him, you let yourself get a good look at his face for the first time. His bright hazel eyes are staring back at you, confused but not unkind. Tall, dark, and handsome is definitely apt, and now you’re seeing him properly you’re a bit speechless. You hadn’t counted on him being this freakin’ attractive.

“Sorry,” you finally manage to choke out under your breath. “I’ll leave you alone soon, I promise, I’m just hiding from my ex,” you explain, and understanding melts across the man’s face.

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks sympathetically.

“Just pretend like you know me until my friend gets here?” you propose hopefully.

“Happy to,” he smiles, grabbing his drink and holding it out to clink against your wine glass. You tap your glass against his, relief flooding your body as you settle onto your stool a little more comfortably.

“Thank you…” you trail off leadingly, hoping he’ll fill in his name.

“Cordell,” he supplies.

“Now there is a Texan name if I ever heard one,” you giggle.

“If you’re gonna laugh at my name do I at least get the chance to laugh at yours too?” he grins jokingly.

“Y/N,” you give him your name, tucking your hair behind your ear and taking a sip of your wine.

“Well that’s no fun, how can I tease you for such a pretty name?” Cordell takes a sip of his own drink, mirroring you. Jeez, this one is a smooth talker.

-

When you finish your glass of wine, probably a little quicker than normal due to your anxious state, you check your phone again and see a missed call from Lea. “Crap,” you sigh, drawing a concerned look from Cordell, who is happily munching away on some chips and queso next to you.

“Everything okay?” He asks, muffled, mouth still full of food.

“Yeah, s’just my friend bailing on me,” you gripe, listening to the voicemail she’d left on your phone a few minutes ago. “Sorry I gate crashed your night for nothing,” you apologise, popping your phone back in your bag and planning on just going home to turn in early and watch some junky tv show in bed now that your ‘girls night’ wasn’t happening.

“Hey, you aren’t gate crashing.” Cordell shrugs, like he’s hedging his bets with his next statement. “I’ve had a good time so far.” His smile is shy and sincere, and you soften just a little in your annoyance at the world.

“I totally am though, you were clearly waiting for someone,” you gesture to the stool you’d taken up residence on.

“Just my work-a-holic brother, who, as luck would have it–” Cordell pulls his phone from his pocket and holds it up to show the message on the lock screen “–also pulled out on me.”

“Oh,” you blink, not sure what to make of that. It sounds like he’s asking you to stay but… “Well, thank you for being my knight in shining armour for a bit, seriously, but I don’t really want to stick around just to have my ex looking at me all night.”

“Well, if he’s gonna be a creep and keep watching you all night, we could make that fun, give him something to watch,” Cordell offers, his smirk incongruous with the almost hopeful expression in his eyes.

“What?” You’re perplexed.

“I mean, I don’t know what happened between you, but it’s pretty obvious to me that he wants you back, and you seem pretty pissed at him for that. I’m guessing the bastard cheated on you?” You huff in response, a little bitter that he’d read the situation so easily.

“Yeah, he did,” you admit, slumping against the bar, feeling downtrodden at the memory.

“So don’t let him chase you off,” Cordell shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “He messed you around – you tellin’ me you wouldn’t like to mess with him right back?” he raises an eyebrow in temptation, a knowing smirk twitching at his lips.

“And you’re proposing that instead of not wanting him to look at me all night–”

“You make him look,” Cordell finishes your sentence for you. “We’ve already pretended to know each other for the past–” he checks his watch “–twenty minutes. May as well just do the whole pretend date.” Cordell looks at you with so much honesty, you believe that he really does just want to help you screw with Dirk. And you cannot say the idea isn’t appealing.

“Alright,” you concede, shaking your head slightly in disbelief that you’re actually agreeing to this, and Cordell’s face splits into a wide smile. Honestly, seeing that expression alone made agreeing to this worth it. “So, if we’re on a pretend date, you gonna pretend to buy me another drink?”

“No,” you insist, shaking your head vehemently.

“C’mon,” Cordell chides, grinning madly.

“I did not agree to this,” you shake your head, finishing off the last bit of wine in your glass.

“Come on,” he urges again, leaning against the bar and tilting his head close to yours pleadingly.

“I am not dancing,” you repeat, wholeheartedly meaning it. You think if you have to come into genuine skin to skin contact with Cordell, you might actually melt into a puddle. Now three glasses of wine into your fake date, you can feel yourself loosening up and really enjoying yourself with this handsome stranger. He’s kind, and funny, and a little weird but in a charming way – exactly your type. And him begging you to dance with him wasn’t helping your self-restraint. This is a fake date, you keep reminding yourself firmly every time he flashes you that little half smile that makes his eyes light up.

“Well, I don’t know what kind of boring fake dates you usually go on, but mine aren’t complete unless I get to show off my two-step and knock back a tequila shot.”

“Oh, we’re doing tequila now, are we?” You laugh – this guy is actually ridiculous, and you kind of love it.

“That wasn’t a no,” he jumps on your ‘non denial’ and waves at the kid behind the bar. “Two tequilas, two limes?” he holds up two fingers and the bartender nods to him, quickly pouring out the shots and dropping two lime wedges onto a plate. Cordell grabs a salt shaker from the condiments rack on the bar and sets everything up between you. You let him work, watching incredulously but enjoying the show nonetheless.

“Give me your hand,” he holds out his own hand expectantly once he’s arranged all the pieces to his liking.

“Why?” your voice is nervous but your hand reaches out instantly of its own accord. Without answering he proceeds to rub the edge of the lime over the inside of your wrist, then puts the lime in your fingers and shakes some salt over the trail of juice he left behind. He does the same thing to himself, then passes you your shot, which you take in your lime-free hand.

“Right, you wanna do this the normal way or the ‘make Dirk jealous way’?” Cordell asks with a smirk once he’s oriented himself.

“I’m gonna regret asking this, but what’s the ‘make Dirk jealous’ way?” you groan exaggeratedly, like he’s put some great burden on you, but the truth is you’re really enjoying yourself.

“Like this,” Cordell steps up to you and links your right arms together. Catching his drift you smile and try to hold back the snort of laughter that bubbles up inside you – a nervous reaction to feeling the warmth of his body against yours, even through the layer of his shirt. “One, two, three,” he counts off and you go to lick the salt off your wrist except that’s what Cordell is doing. You freeze momentarily, heat shooting up your arm from where his tongue and lips are laving over your skin. You don’t think to move until Cordell puts his own wrist against your lips and you lick obediently.

Your linked arms pull you closer together as Cordell lifts the tequila to his lips and you follow suit in a kind of trance, both knocking back your shots. The tequila hits you harder than you remember it ever doing before, and you scrunch up your face, disoriented for a moment until you once again feel Cordell’s lips on your skin. This time they’re wrapping around your finger tips as he sucks the lime into his mouth. You stand frozen, the burn in your mouth and your fingers meeting in your chest and ratcheting up your heart rate as if you’re trying to run away from the oncoming flames. But it’s hopeless, you’re stuck in the blaze now.

“You want your lime, darlin’?” Cordell laughs at your stock still frame and holds his fingers to your lips, gently pressing the fruit inside and urging you to suck. You’re sure you must have physically combusted into fire by now, but Cordell isn’t jumping away like he’s been singed – he’s pressing closer. “Dance with me,” he rasps, voice hoarse from the burn of the alcohol. It’s not a request anymore, it’s an order, and you don’t question it.

Drawing his hand down the arm of yours linked with his until your fingers lace together, he pulls you away from the bar and out onto the dance floor. It’s an upbeat country song, the kind you’d normally jump around to, but he pulls you in and wraps an arm around your waist like a proper partner dance calls for – except he’s ignored the social convention of leaving room for Jesus. He pulls you after him in tiny circles and you let him lead happily. When the song changes to something a little slower he pulls you just a little tighter, and you can’t stop yourself from moving your gaze off his shoulder up to his face.

His eyes dart over your shoulder, then smile down at you wryly, and you feel yourself blush. “He’s watching,” Cordell grins mischievously. You go to look but he puts a hand on your neck and holds you still, keeping your eyes on him. His fingers are strong and warm against your collarbone, ironically causing you to shiver. “No, don’t look at him,” his voice is low as he leans in conspiratorially, “you wanna make him look, remember?”

“Why are you helping me?” The alcohol swimming through your veins is making you comfortable and fuzzy, and you let yourself lean against him familiarly, your head resting against his chest as he continues to move you both around the dance floor. You feel him shrug as his grips on your hand and the nape of your neck tighten a little.

“The truth?” he asks. You can hear the nerves in his voice, even if you can’t see them on his face.

“No, I want you to lie to me, please,” your voice manages to stay serious through the end of the joke before you burst into giggles, and you feel your laughter move into his body and trigger his own, making his chest rise and fall unevenly beneath your cheek.

“You are one hell of a gal, you know that?” You’re glad your face is buried in his chest so he can’t see just how brightly you smile at the compliment. “Truth is, I’ve been trying to get you drunk and have my wicked way with you.” You can tell by how expressionless his voice has gone that he’s winding you up, but you pull back and slap your hand to your chest in mock horror.

“Well Cordell Walker, I have never met such a rogue in my life,” you gasp in your best Scarlet O’Hara accent. It’s not a good one. Neither of you can keep a straight face for more than a few seconds, and you both double over in laughter after your minuscule standoff.

As your laughter dies down, Cordell grabs your hands again and pulls you back to him, swaying entirely out of time to the song that’s playing. He looks like he’s about to say something but the words haven’t quite found their way to his tongue, and when you catch his eyes you suddenly don’t want to hear what he has to say and you pull away from him. He looks at you, puzzled and just the slightest bit hurt as you try to find some cover for your sudden movement.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a bourbon fan, would you?”

Part 2 Here!

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67

All Walker: @lovealways-j @delightfullykrispypeach @stoneyggirl @thinkinghardhardlythinking @sams-sass @walkersbabygirl

[fanfic-chan]

How about Midnight and Mina gang up on Aizawa who’s grumpy after a long day? And afterwards Midnight is like, “Oh by the way, I made your favorite,” for dinner. :D Love your work btw!

Tysm! Oh my gosh this prompt is soooo cute! I did struggle with it a bit at first, but I did my best and overall I think it turned out alright! I hope you like it!^^

Grumpy Cat

Lers: Midnight and Mina

Lee: Aizawa

"Senseiiii! Come on! You can't just lay there grumping around all day! You need to get up and eat something, and everyone's afraid to come in the kitchen because of you!"

"Not my problem."

"Ugh! Your hopeless!"

"I can live with that."

"Grumpyhead!"

"Brat."

Mina had been going back and forth like this with her homeroom teacher for about ten minutes now, trying to get him to cheer up with no luck so far. Aizawa-Sensei's moods weren't exactly uncommon, but ever since his patrol schedule had been changed, and he'd had less time to sleep, they'd been becoming more frequent. To the point where his students and coworkers alike were starting to worry about him.

Some of the more reserved students, like Ojiro and Tokoyami, did their best to avoid him, deciding it was best to let him have his space, while others like Kirishima and Midoriya made an effort to cheer him up by doing small favors or offering compliments. Nothing seemed to be working though, and Mina was starting to get sick of it.

"Come on! Your always on Midoriya's case about taking care of himself, but look at yourself! Don't you want to set a good example for Mr. Bonebreaker?"

(A muffled, "Hey! I'm not breaking my arms.. As much..." Could be heard from the common room, but Mina decided to ignore that argument for the moment. She was already busy with another one. She could deal with Midoriya's sad excuse of self-care later.)

"It's do as I say, not as I do."

"Ugh!"

She was just about ready to give up for now when Miss Midnight walked in. She paused in the doorway and frowned when she spotted her moody coworker.

"Hey Shouta. I picked up your favorite from that restaurant you like- Ah. I see he's in one of his moods again."

"Shut up Kayama."

The Rated-R hero rolled her eyes at that before making her way over to the distraught hero in training.

"So? How long has he been like this?"

"Three hours!"

"Have you tried bribing him with coffee?"

"Obviously."

"Cat videos?"

"Of course!"

Kayama leaned back against the kitchen counter, thoughtful. Few things could get Shouta out of these little episodes when he had them, but there were a few techniques that she knew of that worked pretty well back in highschool. 

See. She, Yamada, and Oboro had a system when it came to Shouta's moods. First they would just give him space, then, if that didn't work, it would go in the order of: forcing him to nap, giving him juice packets and/or coffee, or play cat video compilations. Then, if he still refused to cooperate, as a last resort, there was- Ah.

Bingo.

"Hey kiddo. I think I know just the thing to get Grumpy Cat here smiling again."

"Really?! You do?!"

"Yup. Just follow my lead."

Slowly, quietly, Midnight crept up behind the unsuspecting insomniac, and after a small nod towards a very confused but excited Mina, she dug her fingertips into his ribs. The reaction was immediate.

"K-Kayamahaha! W-Whahat are you dohoing?! Quhuit it!"

"Awwww~ What's wrong Shouta? Don't tell me the big bad erasure hero is ticklish~"

"Sh-Shuhut up!"

She heard a small gasp of surprise from Mina and looked up. The girl was practically bouncing in place, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Sensei is ticklish?! Your kidding!"

"Nope. He sure is. Been that way since highschool."

"No way!"

"Yes way!"

"Stohohop tahalking as if I'm not hehehere!"

At this point, the erasure hero had practically melted into a puddle of bright laughter, an odd sight for the usually stern teacher. A sight that Mina seemed to find very amusing, if her own giggles were anything to go by. 

"Hey Ashido."

The girl looked up at her curiously, and she smirked.

"Wanna help?"

"Can I?!"

"Nohoho! She can't!"

"Yes, she can! Come on Pinky!"

That was all the permission the girl needed, it seemed, as she immediately pounced on her teacher alongside the woman.

"Don't worry sensei! Miss Midnight and I will cheer you up in no time!"

"Hahaha! Nohoho! 

They kept this up for about another three minutes or so before, 

"OKAYOKAYOKAHAHAY! I'LL GEHEHET UP AND EHEHEAT!"

"Finally!"

As the two of them backed off, after taking a minute to compose himself, Aizawa snatched up the bag of food Kayama had brought and started eating, the woman sauntering out, looking smug. Satisfied, Mina started to leave as well when,

"I hope you don't think your getting off the hook for this, Ashido."

She looked back at her sensei in surprise. That tone had sounded almost... Challenging?

"Sensei?"

"I never let my opponent's get away, so you better watch your back. I always get my revenge. Consider it a training exercise of sorts, hm?"

She was sure she'd misheard him at first, because Aizawa-Sensei was never playful, but the mischievous little smirk on his face as he made eye contact with her cancelled out her doubts immediately, and she grinned.

It was so on!

Requests are: Open

[jj-babebank]

Camp Willowdale / JJ Maybank AU / PART 2

Synopsis: Camp Willowdale is buzzing with new campers. It’s Caroline Windsor’s first year as a camp counsellor after attending the camp as a camper for ten years. Little does she know that this year Willowdale Lake is going to be a little different from what she is used to it being…

Warnings: future chapters may include curse words, mentions of drugs, mentions of alcohol, mentions of sexual activities, mentions of death.

Pairings: JJ Maybank x fem OC

Part 1 can be found here. xxx

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 -

Lunch was over and Pricilla organised the boys to go set up the objects for tomorrow night's scavenger hunt around the camp grounds. The boys had drawn the groups their pairs would be in charge of before leaving and JJ and Caroline had gotten Teens 2, whereas Sarah and John B had gotten Teens 1, which meant that, for better or worse, their groups would be partaking in a lot of activities together, seeing as they were both in the same age group.

The girls were given the job to set up the seating area where the bonfire was going to be, so Sarah and Caroline stuck together as they made their way towards the clearance where it was going to be held.

"Can you believe I got paired up with JJ Maybank?" Caroline sighed.

"Beats Routledge by a thousand, I can promise you that," said Sarah, still extremely disappointed, "At least Maybank looks like he takes care of himself."

Caroline chuckled at her comment. John B had also grown his hair out over the years and it was now down to his shoulders.

"He does seem like he is... in touch with nature," Caroline remarked and Sarah laughed genuinely for the first time since drawing the boy’s name out, "Maybe they won't be that bad to work with, besides, it's only nine weeks, what could go wrong?"

Sarah seemed to think for a second before her lips curled into a devious smirk, "Hey, didn't you used to have, like, the biggest crush on Maybank?"

Caroline's cheeks turned red immediately, "I don't know what you're talking about," she mumbled quickly.

Sarah started laughing, "You totally did! You lucky, lucky bitch! I wish I got paired up with my childhood crush! Instead I get to spend my last summer before moving away with snot-nosed, bug-eating Routledge... Why was the Universe on your side and not on mine?"

They walked behind the rest of the girl counsellors towards the bonfire area. When they arrived, the logs that Pricilla had informed them would be stacked up in a convenient for them to move around way, were all scattered across the ground. The pillows that were meant to go on top of them were also in disarray. All the girls looked around in confusion.

"Surely this couldn't have been the wind?" one of them said.

"Surely this was the boys." said Sarah matter-of-factly, "I'd bet 50 bucks that Routledge had something to do with this."

All the girls turned to look at her in confusion.

"What?" she protested, shrugging her shoulders, "You know I'm right."

Caroline rolled her eyes, "Boys or not, we better sort this mess out before sundown, we have cabins to set up as well."

The girls agreed, Sarah being skeptical but also finally giving in, and little by little, they set up the bonfire area. It took them a little over two hours before they started making their way back to the cabins, which they were supposed to decorate with welcome signs for the arriving campers.

Since Sarah and Caroline were both in charge of the oldest groups, their campers were meant to be sharing two cabins - one for the boys and one for the girls.

"Let's split up, I'll do the boys and you do the girls," Sarah offered, nearly shocking Caroline, "Try being as quick as you can. Meet me back out here in 15 minutes tops." she ordered before scurrying up the steps into the boys’ cabin.

Caroline rushed into the cabin next door, pleasantly surprised by Sarah's sudden determination to get work done. As she was arranging the banners and posters on the walls and ceiling, she couldn't help but think that Sarah must have had some sort of ulterior motive to being this enthusiastic about working. Sure enough, she was right.

She had barely taken a step out of the girls' cabin when Sarah spoke up, "Took you long enough. Now let's go find those stupid guys."

The sun was setting and the woods had gotten a bit chilly as Sarah lead Caroline towards where the male counsellors were supposed to be. After setting up the scavenger hunt objects, they were supposed to set up the archery area. As they were getting closer to the archery grounds, the two girls could hear the laughter of the boys in the nearby distance. Sarah pretended to gag yet again.

"Quick, around here," Caroline pulled Sarah behind the small hut where they kept all of the camp's archery supplies. From their spot they could see the guys quite clearly and could hear everything they were saying, "Remind me again why we're doing this?" Caroline whisper-yelled at Sarah.

"Because I'm still furious about their little prank," Sarah explained, "Which is why I want to prank them back."

"How are we gonna do that exactly?" asked Caroline, "By eavesdropping?"

"A good villain is one that knows the enemy's weaknesses," said Sarah, "First we listen for a bit, and then we make a plan."

Caroline couldn't help but smirk at this new side of Sarah she was seeing. She much preferred this Sarah to the constantly whining, gloating Sarah she had gotten used to over the years. Plus, being somewhat of a daredevil herself, Caroline couldn't help but find the idea of pranking the boys back exciting.

"Can you believe I got paired with Jenna Kinley?" one of the boys, Kelce, said, "Not only are we supposed to work together, but we're also meant to be taking care of babies..." he face palmed himself.

The other boys laughed.

"C'mon, Johnson, 10 year olds are hardly babies," said another one of the boys, Topper, "Besides, working with Kinley will not be nearly as scandalous as working with Hague!"

JJ spoke up next, "Aw, don't be like that, Top," he said, "Madison's not that bad!"

Topper scoffed at JJ, "Easy for you to say! You and Routledge got paired with the best girls out of the bunch! And you got the teens groups!"

Sarah and Caroline smirked at the remark.

"Boys, boys, boys," came John B's voice suddenly, "Let's put this topic behind us, I'm sure you'll all be glad to hear about what I managed to sneak into our cabin." all the boys were now staring at John B in anticipation, "16 bottles of pure, fine whiskey, m'boys. Safe to say, tonight will be a ball."

"Bingo..." Sarah and Caroline smiled mischievously at each other, the perfect prank idea forming in both of their heads.

They quietly made their way back to where all the cabins were and sat at one of the patios.

"So here's the plan," said Sarah, "We sneak into their cabin, raid Routledge's luggage and steal his bottles of whiskey. Let's go now!"

Caroline stopped her, "No, no, not now!" she hissed, "They're gonna go to their cabin before dinner and Routledge's gonna want to show them his stash! We'll sneak out during dinner. Oh, and, I suggest we throw a party of our own to this occasion."

Sarah smirked at Caroline, "I like where you're going with this, Carrie," she said, patting Caroline's shoulder before standing up to go into their cabin, "Not bad for a nerd."

Caroline sighed, there was the old Sarah again.

~~~~~~~~

“Windsor!” Caroline heard a voice behind her call out, “Been paired up for a whole day now and we still haven’t the chance to talk!”

Caroline turned around to find a beaming JJ smiling at her. Had he come over from the boys table specifically for her? She could feel her cheeks beginning to burn slightly.

“We can talk,” she said quickly.

JJ took a seat next to her on the long bench. She could feel the heat in her cheeks become even hotter. JJ didn’t seem to notice her nervousness, or awkwardness.

“How’s life been then?” he asked.

Caroline took a deep breath to soothe her nerves, looking up, only to find a smirking Sarah crossing her arms across from her at the table.

“Just the regular, nothing too special,” she said, frowning quickly at Sarah before turning to face JJ again, hoping he hadn’t noticed Sarah’s behavior.

JJ jokingly frowned, “Nothing too special? I heard you got accepted into Charleston University, that’s like super special.”

Caroline cringed internally, “Did you happen to hear anything else by any chance?”

JJ smirked, “Not sure what you’re talking about,”

Caroline wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not but she pretended to not be bothered.

“Well I hear you’re throwing a party tonight,” Caroline crossed her arms in front of her.

JJ smirked even more, “Where’d you hear that from?”

“Why?” she tempted, “Is my source wrong?”

“Hardly,” JJ bit back, standing up, “So perhaps I’ll see you there.”

With that he walked back to where the other male counsellors were sat, giving one last look at Caroline, smirk never leaving his face.

Sarah started laughing loudly, “Looks like someone’s got their eye on little Carrie,” she teased, “Lucky, lucky bitch.”

Caroline rolled her eyes at her, “Bullshit,”

Sarah leaned over the table to whisper to Caroline, “I like the way you handled the situation, we’re definitely going to be there, on more occasions than one.”

Caroline looked at her watch, “Shit, it’s getting late, we better go now!”

And with that, they snuck their way out of the Wildcat Lodge and towards the boys’ cabin.

“Crap, the door’s locked!” Sarah cursed.

Caroline looked around. One of the upper windows seemed to be open. This gave her an idea.

“Sarah, do you still do cheerleading?” she looked at the girl, a plan forming in her brain.

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “What’s that got to do with anything? And duh, how else would my legs look this good?”

Caroline’s lips turned into a grin, “Give me a lift.”

Sarah’s eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

Caroline nodded her head towards the upper window and Sarah whined, “Why’s it always me?”

Silently, they rushed into position. Sarah took her stance, her hands ready to lift up Caroline’s body. Caroline balanced herself on Sarah’s shoulders as Sarah readied her hands to push her up. In one swift motion, Caroline had pulled herself in through the upper window and was now inside the cabin. She immediately went to the door to unlock the handle from the inside so that Sarah could let herself in.

The two girls looked around the space. It was dark and the only light penetrating into it was the one from the lamps outside. Three pairs of bunk beds were sitting there, covered in unpacked suitcases, boxes and bags.

“Great,” sighed Caroline in annoyance, “How are we ever going to figure out which one’s Routledge’s?”

Sarah took a better look at all of the bunk beds again, her eyes landing on one with a particularly large suitcase with a Green Peace sign on it, “My guess is that it’s that one.”

They went over to the suitcase and Sarah nervously leaned over it, “Eurgh, bug eating Routledge better not have live animals in there,” she said as she quickly ripped open the zipper, flinching away as soon as it came undone.

“That’s it!” Caroline excitedly said, “Help me pick it up!”

The suitcase contained three changes of clothes and a large box filled with unopened bottles of whiskey, just like they had heard John B brag about by the archery area. The two girls combined all of their strength to lift the heavy box off the bed and made their way towards the door, when they heard a loud thumping sound from the back of the cabin. Something heavy had fallen in the corner of the cabin that was unlit by the outdoor lamps, making both girls slightly jump and nearly tip over the box full of alcohol. They squinted their eyes in the direction where the sound came from, however they couldn’t make out anything in the thick darkness.

“What was that?” Sarah said nervously.

“Whatever it was,” Caroline said, leading them out of the door, “We can’t wait around to find out.”

With that they were out of the cabin, closing the door behind them and making their way back to their own cabin quickly.

They hid the box inside the storage room and decided to sneak back into the Wildcat Lodge, so that nobody would question their whereabouts.

There was half an hour left until the end of dinner service as Sarah and Caroline sat back at their designated table, trying to draw as little attention to themselves as they could.

“Do you think someone saw us in there?” whispered Sarah so that only Caroline could hear.

Caroline shrugged her shoulders, “I really hope not, but I did get the weird feeling that we were being watched once we heard that noise,”

Sarah shuddered, “Yeah, major heebie jeebies in there. Glad the boys got that cabin and not us.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, “Relax, Sarah, worst case scenario is it was just one of the guys and he saw us stealing tonight’s party supplies.”

Sarah raised an eyebrow, “I swear to God if it was Routledge -”

“If it was Routledge, he wouldn’t have let us get away with it,”

“Shit, Carrie, you’re totally right!” Sarah unwillingly raised her voice, “Who do you think it was?”

Caroline shrugged again, “Honestly? I don’t think it was anyone, I just think something happened to fall down on its own.”

“Hmm… You’re probably right again.” Sarah turned to look at the big clock on the wall, “We’d better get going, we’ve got to get ready for that party you got invited to!” she winked at Caroline, smirking.

Caroline looked towards the boys table where JJ was already looking back at her, a smile dancing on his thin lips. She met his eyes and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks. She decided to give him a little wave to which he happily waved back.

“Hello?” Sarah’s annoyed voice broke Caroline’s focus from JJ, “Are you coming or what? I want us to look good for when we see the guys’ disappointed faces tonight!”

Caroline sighed and followed Sarah out of the Lodge. Tonight was going to be interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I know I only just uploaded the first part, but I want to establish the Camp Willowdale universe as fast as possible so that the actual story can take off and it does in the next part. I'm going to create a taglist for people who have shown interest in the story thus far, so if you want to be included, make sure to leave a reply so that I can include you in the next part.

Also if you haven't noticed so far, this story, aside from fun and romantic, will be quite campy so I hope you're into that. We've also got quite the mystery coming up so stay tuned for that as well x

Alsoooo please give me some inspiration on who I can base Caroline off, I'm kind of leaving her up to the reader's imagination so that you can just imagine yourself as her, but ideally I'd like to have someone who's picture I can use for future photos. I've got my mind set on Maia Mitchel, but feel free to drop recommendations too.

Anyways, let me know what you think this far and feel free to check out the rest of my works in my masterlist. xxx

Part 3 here