#and I have to be around family for the entirety of this weekend and I'm just so tired. I don't want to deal with it.

[sommerbueckers]

can you do another part of drew’s babysitter 😁 it was just too good fr

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐰'𝐬 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫³

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✰ 𝐰𝐜 :: 𝟐.𝟓𝐤

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨

✰ 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨

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THE LINDBERGH CENTER WAS packed to the brim for the game, a sea full of our school colors. I was standing with a few of my friends, a Wayzata Trojans hoodie hugging my body. My hair was up in a bun, streaks of blue and yellow eyeblack covering my cheeks. I could see her across the court, clad in her black and blue uniform with her warmup jacket zipped over it. Her ponytail swung gracefully behind her, covering up the '1' that was displayed proudly on her back.

I wanna point at you when the game ends and we're up twenty.

Paige's words rung in your ears, they had been for the entirety of the weekend. To say I had been looking forward to the game had been an understatement, it felt like it had been within arm's reach ever since Paige and I talked about it Friday night. It was different than all the others; this time, Paige knew I was here, she knew I was watching.

"I swear we better win tonight— or at least come close to it," my best friend, Elaine, mumbled from beside me. She was cleaning off her camera, readying to take a selfie of us. "Does my hair look good?"

"You look fine," I reassured her, crossing my arms over my chest. I was feeling more nervous for the game than usual, my typical smile being replaced with a look of concentration. I wanted someone to win, and of course I had convinced myself it was Wayzata. But deep down, I knew I wanted it to be Hopkins. Paige would have something to say to me after that, and after not talking to her after... Friday, talking to her was something I had been craving.

"Say 'Fuck the Royals!'" Elaine exclaimed, sticking out her tongue for the camera. I remained silent, pursing my lips out toward her cheek. "Cute!" She began typing vigorously on the screen

Paige seemed entirely at ease; laughing with her teammates, dancing on the court, not a single worry crossing her mind. I shamelessly watched her, blocking out whatever Elaine was saying beside me. The blonde's ability to be completely focused and have her own fun at the same time was mesmerizing, she was mesmerizing.

By halftime, the Trojans were trailing by two, and by the final buzzer we were trailing by twenty-one. Our student section was defeated to say the least, low heads and hushed voices. I bit my lip as I stared around at them, feeling slightly guilty. We had been bound to lose, Hopkins had gone undefeated for the last two seasons. But a part of me was glad, because Paige would be in a good mood.

Elaine and I followed the crowd of students off the bleachers and onto the court. She was sulking, her arms crossed and eyebrows pointed downward. "It was a bad night for us," she argued.

"I'm gonna go speak to the Bueckers, i'll be back," I told her quickly, weaving my way through all the students. The family was sitting in the 'Home' section of the bleachers, Bob was standing as he conversed with another man. Drew was showing something to his mom on the phone in his hand, laughing wildly.

When he saw me walking over to them, his smile grew from ear to ear. "We whooped you!" he said, pointing.

"You better knock it off, or you'll be lookin' for a new babysitter," you warned jokingly, taking the seat beside him.

"How are you, hon?" Moe asked with a kind smile.

"I'm really good, how are you guys?"

"We're great!" she exclaimed, "Drew's been talking about you non stop, says he wants you to come over even when we're not out."

The boy hid his face as his mom laughed, I gently nudged him. "Maybe if you do all your homework and go to bed on time, then i'll think about it."

"Speaking of this," Moe started, "if you're not busy this Saturday, Bob and I are going out again and Paige is always out doin' her own thing, do you mind working?"

"Not at all! Just let me know what time."

Paige was coming up the bleachers, holding the strap of her backpack. She greeted her dad first, then Moe, and her and Drew did a little handshake before she turned to me. There was a large smirk on her lips, the cockiest one I could've ever imagined.

"Twenty-one points," she said.

"Yes, yes," I waved her off dismissively, "I was watching."

"Did you notice I didn't point? I spared you some dignity, you should be thanking me," her tone was teasing.

"Get outta here!" I gently kicked her, shaking my head. She pretended to be hurt, grabbing at her leg and falling into the seat next to me. I could feel the heat from her body radiating off of her, she laid her forehead on my shoulder and made crying sounds. "You're honestly a mess," I brushed her off.

"So are you, at least you will be," she whispered, earning an eyebrow raise from me. "Wanna come to mine tonight?"

You titled your head, slightly groaning. "Can't, got a paper I need to finish."

She fell silent for a moment, and I could almost see the gears turning in her head as she thought of a solution. Then, she perked up.

"How 'bout I come to yours then?"

My family was home, but my parents were no doubt already laid down in bed, and my sister wouldn't be a problem. Paige was giving me that same look that made me lose it last time, I was shamelessly losing it this time too. There was a lot on the line; my phone, my car, my door privileges, all for some pussy. I was gonna do it too.

"You can't park there," I whispered, "and you gotta come through my window so call me when you're outside."

"Bet."

HOW WAS I EVEN supposed to focus on my paper when Paige was coming over? I had taken another shower, threw the clothes that were on my floor into the deepest depths of my closet, curled my lashes, put on some blush, and topped it off with a coat of my favorite cherry chapstick. The pajamas that I had chosen were simple, loose cotton shorts and a t-shirt. I didn't want to look like I had put too much into my appearance.

When the long awaited ring of my phone finally came, I stared at the screen for a second before answering. I could hear Paige walking on the other end. I got up and walking over to my window, keeping the phone to my ear with my shoulder while I unlocked it. Poking my head out, I laughed at the sight of her walking down the street. She kept checking her surroundings.

"A little paranoid, aren't ya?" I said.

"You try walkin' alone at night, not the best feelin'."

"It's okay, I got y're back."

"From the window?" she scoffed out.

"Exactly."

When she reached the house, she disconnected the line and stuffed the phone into her pocket. I didn't even have to tell her to pick up the ladder, she placed it against the house and began climbing. I waited patiently with my hands on the seal, a smile playing at my lips the closer she got.

The air was chilly, goosebumps housing themselves on my arms the longer I stood there.

"Will you hurry up?" I whisper-yelled, she glared at me.

"This ladder is unstable," she breathed out once she reached me.

"You set it up."

She climbed through the window, turning around and shutting it behind her. She breathed out a sigh, the warmth of the room engulfing her. She rubbed her hands together.

"Nice room," she commented, looking around. She noticed the computer, "You finish your paper?"

"No..." I mumbled, "It's not due until Friday though."

"Wait—y're tellin' me you made me sneak all the way over here and your paper isn't due 'till Friday?" Paige frowned, her eyebrows creasing.

"I didn't make you do anything, y're here 'cus you wanna be."

Her eyes narrowed briefly, and she tilted her head before a smile broke out onto her face. She slowly walked over to me, her hands slithering around my waist and pulling me in.

"You might be right."

"I know i'm right," you sassed, palms pressing to her chest.

"Don't act like you don't want me here." Her voice had fell to something just above a whisper.

"Well I don't recall saying that I did..."

"Then tell me to leave."

You didn't move, didn't utter a word. Her grip on your body tightened, and you were sure that even if you did tell her to leave, she wouldn't. You could feel her breath warming the tip of your nose, her eyes boring into yours as if they were the only things keeping her here.

"C'mon," she urged teasingly, knowing I wouldn't. "Tell me to go home."

When I answered her with silence once more, she pressed her lips firmly against mine. She tasted like mint and...Paige, i'd never get tired of it. I cupped her face and held her tight, moving my lips in sync with hers. She picked up the pace, walking back backwards until my shins hit my footboard.

I pulled her down with me by her shirt as I fell, drawing out a surprised laugh from her that I quieted with a kiss. She climbed in top of me, her soft hair falling over our faces like a blonde curtain. The kisses became deeper, more passionate, it was as if I could feel every inch and crevice of her mouth. Her tongue swirled around my own, eliciting a moan from me.

Raincheck though, for sure.

Those were Paige's own words from last time, the very sentence that made me want to flip us over and take control. I pushed her back by her shoulders, moving her body aside with my leg. She fell onto the other side of the bed, face twisted in confusion. I straddled her, sultrily flipping my hair to one side.

"Fuck you look good," she mumbled dazedly, hands finding their way to my hips.

"I know," I whispered, reconnecting our lips.

She let out a soft moan when I bite her bottom lip, now trailing kisses across her jaw and down her neck. One of her hands was tightly squeezing my thigh while the other slid under my shirt to roam across my back, holding me close.

I pulled at the hem of her shirt just as I finished leaving a mark on her collarbone. She hurriedly pulled it off.

"This too," I tugged on the strap of her sports bra. Once again, she obliged without hesitation. She lay half bare underneath me, tits small and perky, nipples hard and sensitive. I grazed my fingertips over them, and she breathed out a shaky breath. I maintained eye contact as I slowly lowered my head, twirling my tongue around one of her erect nipples.

I took as much of it into my mouth as I could, completely soaking her tit. I massaged the other with my hand, gently pulling and twisting the bud. Her back was arched off of the bed, wanting more, needing more. I pushed them together as far as I could, licking the visible separation between them.

"I need you to fuck me..." she whined. She tangled her hands in my hair, pulling my head back to look me in the eye. "Fuck me," she repeated, though this time it was firmer. She's wasn't asking. I laughed at her, my tongue still doing work on her nipple. It was then that I learned Paige didn't like teasing. She pulled harder on my hair, a gasp escaping my parted lips. "Fucking do it."

Leaving open-mouthed kisses down her stomach, I inched closer and closer to where I knew she wanted me. I hooked my fingers around the waistband of her pants, and she lifted her hips for me. With one swift motion, I removed her pants and underwear. I disregarded them somewhere on my floor, spreading her legs by her knees.

"That pussy is so wet baby," I murmured, eyeing it like a woman starved. I bit my lip at the sight of her dripping cunt, spread and soaked just for me. I hold her lips open with my fingers, blowing onto her. She bucked her lips and grabbed the sheets.

"Fuck c'mon, c'mon," she whined out desperately.

"So needy..." I teased. I licked two of my fingers, though with how wet she was I knew it wouldn't be a problem, and ran them along her slit. She was warm, arousal continuously leaking out of her. I brought my mouth to her puffy clit, flattening my tongue against it and pressing. My fingers teased the entrance of her hole, inserting the tips before taking them back out.

I began to flick my tongue back and forth over her clit, her breathing becoming louder and unstable. I slid my fingers in without warning, and Paige's hand flew to her mouth to conceal her moan. I closed my eyes, humming in satisfaction at the taste of her. She was pouring out onto my tongue, giving me every last bit of her.

She moved her hips desperately, grinding against my face. I quickened the pace of my fingers, wet noises filling the room. I moved my head around wildly, nose pressing against her clit. Paige was a whining mess, her eyebrows knitted together and lip taken in between her teeth. She tried to press her thighs together, but I kept them spread with my hand.

I turned my hand, fingers hitting deeper as I backed away to let my thumb do work on her clit. She stared down at me; my mouth glistened with her slick and my eyes held a dazed look.

"'M gonna cum," she whispered. "Mmm fuck 'm so close." She was moving her legs around, almost trying to get away from me. I went faster, her juices splashing out on me, her muffled moans filling my ears, her chest heaving quickly, none of it stopped me.

"Ah, fuck..."

I felt her clench around my fingers, and I held my mouth close to her, wanting to taste every last drop. With one last thrust from me, and one last cry from her, she spilled out onto my fingers. Her legs trembled and she was pressing my head into her pussy, eagerly grinding onto my face.

I kept curling my fingers inside of her as she rode out her orgasm. My sheets were soaked, but I didn't mind. I cleaned Paige up with my tongue, gently running it up and down her lips as she let out tiny moans and sighs. I kissed my way back up to her face, smiling down proudly at her.

"Y're good at that," she laughed.

"Tell me somethin' I don't know," I smirked, pressing my lips to hers and letting her taste herself.

She wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled me down into her, "Y're turn."

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[avatar-anna]

i saw this post on and got inspired. enjoy!

"It was nice running into you."

"Yeah, yeah, you too. It was—I'm glad we could catch up."

You held your bag in both of your hands and leaned back on your heels, waiting for the sudden tension to cease. Harry scratched his neck awkwardly while you looked down at the cobbled streets beneath your shoes. When a minute passed and neither of you said anything, when two couples excised themselves to walk past you, you finally decided to break the silence.

"I'm headed this way."

"Me too. We can walk together?"

"O—Okay."

Harry extended his arm out, a clear message for you to go first, so you did. For a split second, his hand grazed your lower back in that protective gesture he always used to use when you walked anywhere. But that had been when you were together, and now you weren't, and even though his hand merely hovered awkwardly behind you, you swore you could still feel it.

"Your hair looks nice. I don't think I've ever seen it so short before," you said, needing to break the silence all over again before it consumed you.

"Thanks, I, uh, I shaved it a few months back. It's finally starting to grow in."

It must've been soon after your break up, you realized, quickly doing the math in your head. A change, a fresh start after the end of a long relationship. You understood that, knew neither of you needed to comment on it, or the fact that you no longer wore the necklace Harry bought you for your first anniversary, though you'd seen him glance down at the missing piece of jewelry multiple times since you ran into each other.

"It's cute," you said, resisting the intrusive urge to reach up and touch his hair, instead clasping your hands behind your back.

"Are you across the bridge?" Harry asked, gesturing to one of the many bridges that stretched across the Tiber.

"Yeah. How'd you know?"

Harry shrugged, the canvas bag on his shoulder slipping a fraction. "You always liked Trastevere."

You smiled, charmed by how Harry still seemed to know you so intrinsically. "And you? Are you staying in Prati?"

Harry shook his head before waving to a fan who had spotted him. He didn't stop, though, and kept walking beside you, asking about your family, specifically your grandmother, who was his Scrabble partner nearly the entirety of your relationship.

"Good. I play Scrabble with her on the weekends now. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm not a good enough opponent, but she'll never say it to my face."

"Graceful as always, your nan," Harry nodded in agreement. "Probably wouldn't say the same thing about chess, though."

"No, probably not. Do you still play?" you asked, tilting your head up to look at him.

He was so close, close enough that the sleeve of his green shirt grazed your bare arm. Close enough that if you really wanted it to the back of your hand could graze his. Instead you shifted your hand away.

"When I can," Harry said, his mouth twitching as if recalling a memory. "I've been focusing on writing most days, but I play whenever I'm stuck."

"How's that going?"

"How's work?"

"Sorry, go ahead," you said, blushing a little. Would it always be this awkward around him? You hoped not. Harry had been a friend first, and even though you knew you shouldn't,y you missed his companionship some nights. Lots of nights. Most nights.

"No, you go. Catch me up on all the latest drama at work."

So you did, falling back into familiar, neutral territory as you brought Harry up to speed on your co-workers.

Before long, you'd made it to the apartment you were renting, your palms suddenly warm as you searched your purse for your keys. You were stalling, you both knew it, but Harry didn't comment, nor did he leave, didn't offer any reason to finally say goodbye.

You knew this was where it was supposed to end. That a chance encounter with your ex in a foreign country really shouldn't have gone on this long. You knew that, and yet...

"Do you want to come in?" you asked, scrambling for any logical reason as to why Harry should follow you into your apartment. "I—I, uh, I could make us coffee and—"

"Please. I mean—Sure. That would be...that would be fine."

Relief flooded through you, though that was quickly replaced by a guilty sort of anticipation as you unlocked the door to the main building of the apartment, as Harry followed you up a couple flights of stairs, as he waited once again for you to unlock a door. When you were inside, when you set your things down on the small dining table, you turned to face your ex.

Harry's gaze was once again lowered to your collarbones, to the place where the necklace he gave you used to sit. Then he met your eyes, the expression in them clear. It was the first time you'd seen them since running into him today. He'd kept his sunglasses on the whole time, perhaps to hide his expressions more, because now that you properly met his gaze, you saw it all. Those green eyes you still loved so much betrayed his every thought, and you knew yours probably did as well.

It was hard to say who moved first. If you grabbed the front of Harry's shirt before he wrapped an arm around your waist and fisted your hair in his other hand. But none of it mattered when your mouth met his, when your hands traveled up to cup the sides of his face, your thumbs tracing the familiar planes of his face.

A graze of his teeth against your bottom lip had you gasping, had him smiling as if that was the exact reaction he'd been hoping for. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down his scalp, satisfied by the groan that vibrated against your mouth as his tongue caressed yours.

"This isn't—It's not—" you tried to say, losing focus as Harry left a trail of kisses from your jaw to the base of your neck and back up again. "This doesn't mean—"

"I know," Harry breathed, his forehead pressed against yours as he toyed with the bow that held the front of your blouse together. Your breath hitched as his knuckle grazed your exposed stomach. "This doesn't change anything. Now take this off."

You almost made him do it just because he ordered you to, but you knew why he wanted you to be the one to untie the knot of your blouse. It meant you were saying yes to this moment, it meant you were saying yes to doing whatever it was you were about to do.

So you pulled at the blouse until it came undone, leaving it open so it revealed a strip of bare skin going right up the middle of your body. The rest you would leave up to him.

Harry shrugged out of his own sweater and t-shirt before reaching out to push back the shoulders of your shirt until it was off completely, falling into a puddle of fabric at your feet beside his. His gaze alone was too much and not enough, more explicit than it had any right to be. He stood there and drank you in for a full minute as if in a daze, taking in every mark and imperfect like he was reacquainting himself.

It was hard to get the words out, but you managed. "Still broken up?"

"Yeah," Harry said, his eyes still roving over every inch of your body that he could see. Then he blinked as if remembering the situation for what it was. "Yeah, still broken up."

There wasn't much left to say after that, really.

[tojivu]

bite me ❤︎ ! ⋆ jjk men

an. my first multichar work !

cw. hickeys/lovebites with gojo, geto, toji, nanami + the terrible aftermath. suggestive, otherwise quite sfw. f!reader. suguru isn't a curse user.

playing. bite me by enhypen.

GOJO SATORU is a cocky fucking bastard. just 12 hours ago, he had you wrapped around his finger — quite literally, as well — and his lips were practically superglued to the delicate skin of your neck and collarbones. it didn't occur to you, though, that your boyfriend didn't have the weekend off; after all, he did tell you he was going to be home the entirety of it.

well, you should've known that satoru would do anything to have his way with you — a little white lie, that's what he tells himself — but he had to admit that he couldn't think very straight, otherwise, he wouldn't have let you leave so many.

it's 11 in the morning when you receive a text from shoko. you can hear the disgusted yet unsurprised tone through the pixels, asking you why your boyfriend was sporting roughly 4 — yes, they were so obvious that she could count — patches of purple on his neck and jawline.

shoko: satoru looks like he got in a fight with a leech lol

when satoru comes home, the mortified feeling intensifies by tenfold — they're much more obvious in real life. the colour has faded a little, but hickeys are still hickeys, and your boyfriend is still an imbecile.

"what?"

"you have no shame," you turn your head away from the man standing at the entryway of your shared home, and back to the television. "you said you were gonna be home. you left before i woke up—"

"important jujutsu stuff," satoru interrupts. he takes his blindfold off, quick footsteps as he makes his way to the couch. your arms are folded together, an attempt to show satoru that you were upset. "couldn't be helped, baby. 'm sorry."

you turn your head towards him, eyebrows furrowed when you realise your boyfriend doesn't care one bit — he thinks there's nothing wrong with people knowing he's unavailable, and even more so when you're the reason.

"can you at least use some of my foundation?"

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GETO SUGURU has a little bit of dignity, but the collar of his shirt is a little too low to be coincidental. he secretly loves it whenever his friends ask about it, tease him about finally having a girl when he's been alone for so long.

it's a friday afternoon when he's at the gym getting his daily workouts in, and his cheeks flush when satoru nudges his bicep and lets a hearty laugh out; "aw, suguru's gotten busy, huh? this why you didn't turn up yesterday?"

suguru groans and tells satoru to shut the fuck up, but there's no denying that he was in fact busy. nevertheless, of course suguru had decorum; he covered himself up in front of the public and his family, but he really couldn't care less if his closest friends knew about what he was up to.

besides, his neck wasn't as bad as yours — he could only feel guilty as he watched you paint colour corrector and various shades of concealer on your neck, even doing the chilled spoon method; eventually giving up and settling for a scarf when they don't do the trick.

"i didn't know you were going out today," he says from the bed as you sit across the room at your mirror. "i fucked up."

"'s okay, sugu!" you smile reassuringly, contrasting the worried look on your face that spells it out for him — the sweet tone of your voice only makes suguru feel worse. "the scarf will work fine."

"i'm still sorry, baby. really."

he really isn't. but the guilt makes up for it, he thinks; he only hopes your mother doesn't catch a peek of the purple hiding beneath the fabric.

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TOJI FUSHIGURO also does not give two fucks. this man could leave the house absolutely littered in bite marks from your pearly whites — he loves looking at himself in the mirror in the morning, when you're still fast asleep, just admiring the artwork that is his body and the proof of the love you have for him on it.

this wasn't the case with the girls he used to mess around with, though. he absolutely loathed having any evidence of a woman on him, whether that be the scent of her perfume lingering on his clothes or in his apartment — or her messages appearing on his lock screen and his friends asking about it.

yet, it's different with you; but he supposes everything has been different with you. he thinks he's serious this time, about the relationship you two have — and he wants everyone to know that too, though he'll never say that out loud.

"tojiii?" you whine, arms stretching out as your eyes adjust to the sunlight that pours into the bedroom. you turn to his side of the bed, and you're not surprised when he isn't there — it's ironic. the first time you woke up in bed alone after a night with toji, you panicked and thought that he disappeared.

it's just then that your lover opens the door, duffle bag slung around his shoulder diagonally; his right shoulder hits the doorframe, almost fitting the entire width, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks when you see the hickeys on his neck.

you use your arms to push yourself up, sitting cross-legged on the sheets. "did you go out like that?"

"like what, princess?"

you smile at the name, but your lips don't part to answer — toji knows you know, but it's annoying how he acts so natural about it. he sets his bag down and his strong arms wrap around you, picking you up as if you're light as paper.

"show off," you mutter against the crook of his neck. "you need to start wearing hoodies to the gym."

toji catches a whiff of your scent and thinks you're dense for saying such a thing — he is finally proud to have someone by his side, so he might as well let everyone else know. he has to.

"not happening."

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NANAMI KENTO does cover up, but he wouldn't mind if someone saw them. he's very mature about it, really — not embarrassed in the slightest. after all, you were his wife and he was your husband. things are bound to happen between you two behind closed doors.

that doesn't mean he wouldn't try to conceal them, though. he asks to use your makeup to hide them — only to be fucked over when your shades don't match all too well. it's only then that he lets an exasperated sigh leave his lips, and you feel a hundred times guiltier.

"i'm sorry, kento," you bite down on your bottom lip out of worry. "maybe we can use the spoon?"

he shakes his head. nanami was running late, and he had to leave immediately.

"it's okay, darling," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "yaga won't be upset."

you knew gojo would tease him endlessly, and you also knew that nanami couldn't stand him. you almost tell him to stay home for a little longer so you can figure out a way to fix this.

"it's nothing to be ashamed of. we're adults," he reminds you, as if the events of last night and the evidence of said events do not. "i'll see you when i'm home?"

you sigh, middle and thumb fingers rubbing your temples. if only you were thinking straight — but you knew that was almost always impossible with kento. "okay. have a good day at work, ken."

kento plants one more kiss on your lips, and he has to pull himself away before another second passes; he always had trouble stopping himself with you.

he supposes that habit has come to bite him in the ass, now.

"thank you, sweetheart. i will."

yeah, gojo will never let him live this down.

280124 — is this ooc.

[uc1wa]

Xi it's my birthdayyyyyy, wondering what you think the boys might do for their partner's birthday?? DC boys or JJK boys, your pick my love (nsfw or not, dealer's choice I'm just honored to be here) 💖 no matter what your writing is scrumptious 😈 I hope you're having a good weekend!!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY <3!!!! i hope you had the best weekend ever mwahhhh

BATBOYS & YOUR BIRTHDAY

dick grayson

dick would go all out for your birthday to the point that it’s embarrassing. he’s telling everyone in his family, all of his friends, everybody that your day is coming up. of course the titans help him throw a party for you! they’re going to stores to get decorations, hanging them around your apartment with the spare key dick has. dick’s making all of your favorite food & apps, creating a lil menu for it all that’s messily made via microsoft word. even making a specialty cocktail for you & your friends to have (a drink that will def get you fucked up but tastes like your favorite juice).

he’s kissing you when you walk in the door with an arm slung over your shoulder, making a plate for you, doing everything that you’d need from him for the night.

and once everybody’s leaving, wally deciding on sleeping on your couch, dick’s locking your bedroom door and gently stripping you of your clothes. he’s done so much for you, but do you really think he’s not going to give you a finale?

the finale? rounds and rounds of head that dick’s perfected in his time dating you. long and slow stripes up your entrance to start, making you finish at the slower pace a time or two before he’s quickening his movements.

he lays down, grabbing underneath your thighs so that you can fuck yourself against his face without a thought in your head. when you dare to look down, dick’s got a big smile across his lips as he licks up every juice you offer to him. "happy birthday, baby," he says against your swollen entrance, completely pussy drunk.

jason todd

a month before your birthday hits, before the thought of another year being added to your date, jason’s making a reservation at a restaurant you’ve been telling him you’ve wanted to go. the restaurant that you’ve seen tiktoks of, have read the menu and looked at chef specials, the restaurant that was highly exclusive and had a rooftop that the man rented out in its entirety for you.

he’s asking you to close your eyes on the way there, not putting a blindfold on because he knows that you did your makeup all pretty and would hate for it to get smudged. when you arrive, the sun is an hour away from setting and he’s leading you to the space with only a table and two chairs.

the courses are endless and the wine to pair, delicious. he has your favorite dessert come out last, ‘happy birthday’ written in chocolate on the plate with a single candle made for you to blow out.

once the private and loving fesitivities finish taking place at the restaurant, he’s driving you back to your shared place. his hand never leaving your thigh as he gives you a sweet kiss at every red light he stops at.

"you didn’t have to do all that, but i appreciate it, y’know," you say against his soft lips that turn to continue driving. "everything’s for you, always will be."

jason continues showing you that his statement is true for the rest of the night. every kiss to your soft skin proves that his lips are only for you to feel. every finger that spreads your legs apart wider and wider, only for you. and every long and deep stroke that hits that special spot deep inside you, is only for you! everything is for you, to jason.

[romanoffsbish]

In Your Corner

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | WC: 3,885

It had been supposed to be another great year that had come to a close for you. Every year, without fail Tony would throw you a party, but this year he was preoccupied with his family. He hadn't even had the time to send you a text.

That hurt, but you new infants were a lot of work so you gave him and Pepper that pass, but as you entered the communal kitchen you found yourself disappointed again. You'd been used to waking up to the smell of a homemade breakfast made by your best friend, but this year Wanda was off to Cannes with Vis for an impromptu trip, she too had forgotten to text.

The remainder of the team had seemingly also forgotten, each one just hanging around the compound and your lover was off on a mission so you couldn't fault her for the lack of text.

——

So, there you sat, on your shared floor with a pint of whatever frostbitten ice cream was left in your freezer as you watched Friends reruns and cried into your couch cushions as Rachel and Ross fought over the terms of a "break".

The show continued on, laugh tracks sounding off, even when it wasn't really that funny but your focus had since shifted to your dry phone. When you realized no one would remember now as it'd already reached noon you settled into the loneliness and slipped off into a nap.

—

Natasha was stressed to the max on a quinjet, pacing back and forth as Clint flew them home. She'd been gone for two weeks now, and she told Fury that there was no way she'd miss your birthday. It was too important to her that the two of you at least have time to celebrate.

Your life was the most important thing to her, so of course the day of your birth was as well.

So he sent in some agents to replace them as the bulk of the work had been completed and all that was really left was the clean up. There was no reason to extend what had already been extended from a weekend away to two weeks.

When they landed she rushed off the jet and went straight to the common area. She was softly panting from the exertion, but her breathing slowed to nothing as she surveyed the room. Steve and Bucky sat on opposite ends of the couches reading, while Sam and Peter were on the ground, the former one cursing as they played a round of Mario Kart.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Clint's eyes widened as he walked in as Natasha growled. The men in the room looked to her confused, the youngest of them all was the first to speak. "We're having a chill day Mrs. Romanoff."

"Wrong answer," Clint tossed out before rushing out of the room to debrief with Hill as he promised Natasha he'd do for her sake.

"Now why would you be doing that Parker?"

"Natasha, we don't have the energy for your riddles, so speak your peace," Bruce boldly piped up from the corner he'd been sat in.

"Banner, I suggest you leave now," she gritted, her fists bunched up, and the scientist lost all of his bite when he remembered the Hulk wasn't going to be on his side. He soon left with his head down and metaphorical tail tucked.

Which was the best gift your wife could honestly offer: his disappearance. He'd been nothing but bitter since you two got together.

"What's wrong Nat?" Bucky asked, much softer and genuine. Of all people here he'd be granted a pass as he'd not been here in the years prior.

"I'm just wondering where the decorations are, and why my wife isn't here surrounded by the people who she celebrates joyously every year."

Expressions of guilt, and trepidation overtook the entirety of the limited team members faces.

"Friday, where's Y/N?" Natasha asked, only adding salt to the wounded men as she replied: "Asleep upstairs on your couch, it appears she had cried herself to sleep about a half hour ago. Shall I wake her for you Agent Romanoff?"

"No, please do let me know if she wakes up." Friday agreed, and she shifted her attention back to the men who'd all stood to their feet.

Natasha's heart had sank at the notion of you feeling the way you did, as if you were easily overlooked, and not valued, so she knew she needed to fix the mess everyone had made.

"Peter, swing to the bakery at once and return with a tray of those cupcakes." The young boy looked defeated, your wife didn’t hold this against him, on account that he was a kid, but she didn’t waver with her glare and that got him to scramble to activate his suit and leave.

“Wilson, Rogers, and Barnes, go decorate the garden, leave behind your generous gifts, then stay out of sight for the rest of the day."

The redhead then shot off texts to everyone else to scold them just in case they too forgot. Then she took off to the gym lockers so she could freshen up without having to enter your shared floor and risk waking you up just yet.

After she changed from her suit into a pair of shorts and a muscle tee she set off to collect you for a day of last minute, but proper plans. The guys had just finished their part, and left to Wilson's apartment so she could fix the day.

As she entered your shared space she was greeted by an obnoxious laugh track, your melted ice cream and your sleeping form.

Natasha took a minute to survey the scene, and after a moment of admiring you her heart effectively broke as she eventually saw the dampened fabric of your couch. If not for her desire to celebrate your birth she'd be stealthily bringing an end to all that made you this sad.

With a quiet, determined step she moved about your shared floor, cleaning up the mess you'd been accumulating ever since she left. Then she settled a kiss to your cheek as she shut off the TV before venturing off down the hallway to run you a warm tub full of water. After she set the place up with a sprinkling of gifts, and a whole lot of love she’d set off to collect you.

To her luck you'd just groggily sat up, she found it funny that the silence is what woke you up as you'd just been snoring through Friends only a half an hour prior. "Natty?"

"Good morning sleepy head," she teased as she moved out of the hallway and into your sight. There was a dullness to your gaze as you tiredly surveyed her, not subtle at all as you looked her over for wounds, then again to check her out.

Natasha smirked, and began to approach you, she settled down beside you and cupped your cheek. There was a glimmer of hope in your gaze, and she spoke fast, making sure not to crush it. "Happy Birthday moya lyubov'."

"You remembered?" You sobbed, a bit dramatic you'd realize later, because of course she did, but in the moment you felt relieved. "Oh detka, how could I ever forget such an important day, hm? It's my most treasured."

Her lips pressed to your cheeks, catching the tears that slipped through your lashes, then they traversed the expanse of your face until they finally landed on your own as she pulled your body into her lap in one swift motion.

"Why's my pretty girl up here alone on her most special of days, hm?" Natasha knew, but she wanted to try and get your perspective and see the best possible way to change it. "Because everybody forgot Natty," you hiccuped as you burrowed into her neck. "Except for Friday."

Natasha hummed, her body slowly rocked yours in an attempt to hopefully soothe you as her own blood boiled with pure contempt.

"My sources say there was a cosmic fluke on Wanda's behalf, because she adores you so."

Natasha prayed for her sake this was true, because though she'd lose in a fight with the unfair advantage of powers, she wouldn't refrain from smacking her around anyways.

"The rest were simply forgetful idiots, but they felt terrible and have started the apology train," she decided to be honest, forgoing her initial plan to lie to protect your feelings. The men didn't deserve such shielding, they instead deserved to stew in their guilt for eternity.

"I-I don't mean to be dramatic Natty," you sniffled, "But I never forget anyone, why would they forget me? I just want the same in return."

"I understand detka, it's fair to expect," she agreed with a soft tone, "I just want you to know I would never forget, I only didn't text because I was racing home to surprise you."

"I know you would never forget honey, some years it's you who has to remind me," you giggled, and it instantly brought a smile to your lovers face to see you already perking up.

"Well, in the spirit of such a monumental occasion I have ran a tub for you, and set out a new outfit for you to slip into for our plans."

Your head whipped back from its place on her shoulder, face instantly lighting up, "Plans?"

Natasha shook her head with a fond smile, her fingers then raised up to her lips to imitate a zipper and so you whined: "Natty please?"

"Detka, I want it to be exciting, so go get ready and meet me in the garden when you're done."

The two of you stood to your feet, reluctantly moving apart, but before you fully separated your wife pulled you in for a passionate kiss.

"Take your time, and relax your mind Y/N." She pecked your lips a final time, then left.

As you entered your room your heart swelled at the sight of the outfit she'd bought, you'd been eyeing the fit for awhile, and of course she had been watching you just the same. Nothing was ever going to get by your super spy of a wife.

Once you finished your soak, with a new set of body products, you slid out and into the new royal green cropped sweater vest, and skirt. Then after handling your skincare routine you skipped all the way to the garden where you found your wife stood there patiently waiting.

Natasha subtly gulped at the sight of you, and for a moment the both of you remained silent as you looked the other over. She had changed from her casual locker attire into a loose fit black button up polo, with a pair of grey slacks. It was a simple choice, but still deeply alluring as her arms managed to bulge out the stretchy fabric, and her pants were form fitting enough that you could admire her toned behind.

Once you reeled in your devious gaze you were reduced to a woman on the verge of another breakdown. There stood your wife with a bouquet of black roses, and honeysuckles. It had become her goal to pick you meaningful flowers, and the contrast in bright colors meant to symbolize eternal love, intermixed between the more dark, morbid version of the classic rose was for an that leads to a beginning.

In the moment your curiosity was peaked, but you settled on letting the day play out before you sought out clarity. Your wife was cunning, and never moved without a plan, and you were never one to doubt her so you'd easily wait.

Natasha's free hand hung in the air, beckoning you to approach her, and as you accepted she swiftly pulled you into her body. She lowered the bouquet, allowing you the chance to smell the unique combination before she set them in a vase on the center of the decorated table.

“You look gorgeous love.” Natasha blushed, and softly huffed, “That was my line detka.”

As you giggled mischievously into her chest she gave the nervous spider-teen who was lingering on the side of the compound a thumbs up from behind your back. Peter lowered the pink box, and white bags onto the table with his webs, then as previously instructed he vanished.

“He’s just a kid Natty,” you called your wife out as you tried to pull away from her, but she kept your bodies connected with a hand on your lower back, as her lips sought your warmth.

Once satisfied she let you go, eyes admiring the way that yours stayed shut an extra beat, you always took a moment to recover, even when it was just a peck on the lips. You swore you’d never get used to the feeling of hers against yours. It was electrifying, and no matter how brief there was never a lack of love to be found.

Once you shakily breathed out through your nose, and your eyes fluttered open you were met with your wife who was patiently waiting. Natasha pursed her lips, then doubled down. “That’s true Y/N, that’s why I still let him see you, but he also has a phone with a calendar.”

You knew not to push it, because in the end she wasn’t wrong. Instead you thanked the boy via text, and put your phone in dnd, no longer caring about the sudden influx of well wishes, as your greatest one to be was sat before you.

Natasha handed you a sandwich, and then after listening to you animatedly tell her stories of the guy’s stupidity, she reflected back and told you all about Clint’s on their mission. Then as if having the power to summon him, the man was beside you with a candle and a lighter.

“Happy Birthday Y/N/N,” he greeted with a grin and a stubbly kiss to your temple. “The kids made you this,” he passed you a paper with the whole Barton family on it, and right to the side of them was you in Nat’s arms with Liho on your shoulder. Then he passed you an envelope, “And Laura purchased you this.”

While Natasha pulled out a gorgeous cupcake decorated to look like a peony you tore it open.

“Oh my gosh, no way!” You shrieked, “We’re going with them to Disneyland Natty!” She met your enthusiasm with a nervous chuckle, then seamlessly blew passed her anxieties as she lit the solo candle and began to sing. Clint joined her in the celebratory tune, but fortunately for you your wife’s melodic voice carried the tune.

Clint slipped off a moment later, with a to go container of various flower inspired cupcakes, then Natasha guided you to her sports car. It never ceased to make your heart flutter when she naturally moved to buckle you in. There was never a time in your whole entire time knowing her that she didn’t do this. It was actually how you realized she liked you in the way you did her. Because once you actually saw how she unbuckled Tony’s for him in contrast.

“Where are we going?” Natasha shook her head and chuckled softly, “Stop asking baby girl, you know I’m a steel fortress with this stuff.”

You grumbled all the way, until you saw the arcade, with Yelena and Kate grinning outside. Natasha couldn’t contain her laughter as you raced from the car and into her sisters arms. The blonde spun you around, then after you were back on the ground Kate pulled you in.

“Come on Y/N,” Yelena shrieked, “We must play as many games as possible. The final winner gets the crown in Kate Bishop’s hand.

You raced off with a shout of: “Game on!”

“Thanks for coming so last minute, I know you just got home from an undercover mission,” Natasha genuinely said, and the archer turned to her with a tired smile. “It was the least we could do, plus, look at how happy they are.”

Natasha did look, her eyes hardly ever left you to begin with, but in moments like these, where you were in the middle of unbridled joy, she especially wanted to be a spectator. Seeing you and Yelena playing like little kids always made her heart soar, and her mind run with dreams.

Of a future similar to this moment, but with house parties and summer barbecues. It was all she wanted, and she reckoned it was time you two got started on the rest of your journey. So, after about an hour of free fun, where you beat Lena in the final game, reigning you champ she called out to you both to say it was time to go.

“You’re welcome for letting you win,” Yelena angrily said, making you giggle as you realized she most certainly did no such thing. Her eyes narrowed, but a grin soon overtook her face as you yanked her into a goodbye hug. “Thank you for coming out to celebrate my birthday.”

“I will never miss a chance to beat you at air hockey Y/N Romanoff.” Her arms tightened, and she softly whispered: “Happy Birthday.”

“Okay, let’s wife swap now.” Natasha’s tone was playful, but a spark of jealousy was easily detected. “Hold your panties Natalia. Y/N is all yours. Also Kate Bishop is my fiancé, not wife.”

“She’ll be your was with that attitude,” you teased as you shifted to say goodbye to the archer. Who, as was her job, coronated you the ‘Arcade Supreme’ just before slipping you a gift bag then taking off with her grumbling fiancé.

“We’ve got a few more stops detka.” Natasha escorted you back to the car, then the rest of the adventure unfolded as she took you to all of your favorite places. Including the cat cafe where she surprised you with an adoption.

You’d been begging for months to get Liho a girlfriend, but then you ended up getting a male orange tabby, with a missing eye. “He looks kinda like Fury, let’s take him to shield!”

“Detka, I want to live a long life with you,” she teased as you held the cat up. “Stop tempting your fate with the doppelgänger of our boss.”

“At least you agree with me,” you huffed, then set the cat back down before letting your wife take you out of the cafe with the promise of returning in the morning for the little fella.

“You think Liho will mind that his girlfriend is a boy?” You shrugged, smirking around the straw of your frappe. “Love is love Natty.”

It was encroaching evening now, so you’d figured that the night was coming to a close, but when your wife passed the exit for the compound you realized her plan was ongoing.

With the windows rolled down, and your hand interlocked with your wife’s as she drove you across city lined you began to realize the burden of your depressing start had dissipated. The tension in your body melted away, and in a show of direct appreciation you brought her knuckles up to your lips and kissed them.

“What was that for?” You were looking out the window at the vast greenery of New York, but you could hear her smirking and had to fight off the urge to roll your eyes. “Do I need a reason to show you, my dear wife, affection?”

Natasha hummed thoughtfully, “I suppose not, but if you were saying thanks, I’d also like the same gesture deposited upon my lips please.”

Just as much as you were left a total mess after each kiss, she was left with an insatiable need for more. If she had it her way you’d never part. Her lips would be against yours all day, and if not there, at least somewhere on you.

Before you could even consider her proposal the redhead had pulled over abruptly, the blur of greenery was now more clear to you, and a feeling of serenity washed over you at the view.

“Where are we love?”

Your wife was nervous, something she rarely ever felt, and never let anyone see. Today is going to change the trajectory of your life for good, and she just hopes you’re happy with it.

“Home.” You furrowed your brows as you whipped your head around to meet her gaze after processing the word she’d just blurted. Seeing her nervous smile upon doing so made you lose the frown of confusion. A much softer crease overtook your face as you matched her smile as best you could. “What do you mean?”

“Here.” Natasha unbuckled herself, then she hopped out and gently pulled you from the car. “I, well actually, Tony and I have been working together on this for awhile now.” You cut her off with a gasp of genuine surprise, “You and Stark have been working together and he gets to live to tell others about it?” Natasha rolled her eyes, but before she could clarify you gasped again, this time with a horrified look.

“Oh my gosh Natty, did you kill him?” Her face fell into one of pure mortification. “What? No!”

You cast her an unbelieving glance, but then you lost your edge, tone obviously teasing, “Maybe that’s why he didn’t text me today…”

Natasha glared at the notion, and vowed to trip the wires in his suit for such a slight. Then she remembered his hologram that was waiting for you with birthday wishes beyond the hedges.

“Detka, please focus,” she chided, then pulled on your hand until you were just beyond the greenery, and stood before a gorgeous home. The walls were painted a blue tinted grey, with black trimmings, and it was two stories tall.

“This is,” she began, but you cut her off with a squeal, “Our home? Are we finally…” Natasha cut you off next, “Yes, we only have one final mission detka. To settle down for good now.”

“I love you so much Natasha!” She gladly took you into her arms for a hug, then before you could protest she scooped you up like she did on your wedding day, and ran the both of you beyond the threshold of the home. Her lips slammed to yours in the heat of the moment, but the kiss was weak as neither of you could refrain from smiling like idiots. “I love you too Y/N, more than I ever dreamed possible.”

When the night came to a close a few hours later, you heard your phone ding just as your eyes had shut. You begrudgingly peeked an eye back open. "Happy Birthday Y/N/N, I had no service, but I promise you a stack of chocolate chip pancake's when I return on Monday. ❤️"

You smiled, grateful for Wanda's gesture, albeit late it was much better than never at all. All you ever wanted was to have a group of people to love you the same way you'd loved them.

With Natasha pressed into you from behind, an arm wrapped tightly around you as she snored softly you knew without a doubt that you were at the very least loved with reciprocity by her.

—

[ssahotchnerr]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cvvw7jfIaOF/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

hehe katie 🤭 you're the first thing that comes up to my mind to share this to because of the constant girl!dad aaron you've been feeding us with!!! hehe. it's so aaron in the way he always validates you as a mom and taking care of everything when he couldn't ☹🥰<3 the girls obviously have your back and they just love to tease their dad 🤭

omg thank you SO MUCH for thinking of me this is one of my fav things i've everrrr been sent <333333 so so SOOOO aaron coded i need to SCREAM, cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, bit of suggestiveness hehe

first of all, hotchner family hiking days 🥰🥰🥰 it's for weekends when aaron is home, the weather is way too nice to stay inside AND it's the perfect way for the kids to get alllllll their energy out, fall asleep very soundly early so you and aaron can have your own private time with no interruptions later 🤭 hehe i've mentioned twin girls before and it's sooo fitting for this too 😭 the lil girls sharing both of you and aaron's features <333 they have his dark hair, and for the excursion they either have their hair pulled up in a ponytail, a braid, or being held back by a hat 😭😭 just chattering on and on and on for the entirety of the walk, asking aaron soooo many questions or bringing up topics at random - there's literally not a moment of silence with those two <3333333 they're so little but they have sooo much to say.

the twins are walking behind aaron who's leading the way - who's also holding onto the backpack with snacks, first aid, rain ponchos, extra shoes, water bottles and the newest baby hotchner strapped to him too <33333 he's reminding the littles to stay close, not go off the path, and to not 🫵🏻 touch any leaves of three, not wanting to deal with a bout of poison ivy 😭 jack's also in the middle - helping out his baby sisters, lifting them over fallen trees in the middle of the path, walking the family dog (that you all managed to convince aaron to get - you all took a family trip 'just to look' one day and yet came home with a new family member 🥹😭) <333 again, the girls are talking aaron's ear off nonstop behind him and then you're in the back making sure no one gets left behind or you're quick to help if one of them falls or trips on a stick or rock.

but aaron mentioning he's tired 😭😭😭 - he's also wearing a hat 🥰🥰🥰 and those Very Dad type of sunglasses 😭 and then the girls are immediately blasting him: "you can't be tired" "well, mommy-" "she does it all the time-" "she even does it when-" etc etc etc. and you can't help but laugh because they're your girls 🥹🥰🥰🥰 they're glued to your side on the daily (when aaron isn't around 🙄✋🏻🥰💓) so of course they would defend you and tease their daddy at any opportunity- they've seen you do it countless times hehe <3333

and aaron, not even bothering to look behind him and continuing to trek forward, and nearly out of breath because you're all going up an incline, he simply deadpans, "i'm not your mother, i'm a whiny baby" (as if he's not out catching serial killers on the daily LOL) 😭 and AMOUNT of giggles that leave the girls 😭😭😭💓💕💓🩷 even jack has to laugh at that one 😭😭😭 they start teasing him even more and again he praises you for all you do for your family, calling you super mommy and says, "so you all better appreciate your mother for all she does for you🫵🏻🤨🥰" 💓💓💓 and the girls immediately chirp they do and stop walking, for you to catch up so they can give you a hug or insists on holding your hand <333

and LOL you manage to get to aaron's side at one point and you have to tease him too so you're all like ;) "did you just say all those things for your benefit later" and hehe he just laughs and is like "hm maybe" 🤭 BUT he's just teasing and genuinely appreciates you and everything you do and he's so so happy and grateful to be raising a family with you 🥹 <333333

[xlovebitz]

more reposts from my deviantart

these are simply concept sketches a bunch of headcanon rambles incoming after this ↓↓↓

!!! TW MENTIONS OF: bullying, grooming, an abusive romantic relationship with a large age-gap, overbearing parenting, parental neglect !!!

~.About the CMC in Novaverse.~

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Sweetie Belle was bullied for having ugly markings and for being fat during her school years. At 16/17 she was picked up by a well known, wayyy older than her modelling agent she met through Rarity. The agent claiming that Sweetie's markings were "for sure a mark (haha) of a famous upcoming model and a great career!" Loving this validation of one of her biggest insecurities Sweetie enters an abusive boss/worker relationship, later turned a romantic relationship, with said agent. Becoming an actress/model/singer and a naive little puppet to be mistreated and used by her agent for most of her early adulthood.

She hits her breaking point and leaves - around the same time Apple Bloom returns to Sweet Apple Acres for the first time in years - making media waves with a publishing of her autobiography that details her life and the abuse she suffered. She surfs the waves of limelight for a few years before deciding to become a music teacher in the very place she grew up in, Ponyville. Now she lives a fairly quiet life, reunited with her besties.

My idea right now is that she's in a polyship with Scootaloo, Spur & Rainbow Harmony later in life. But that's up for change. I'm also not very happy with her mane in this drawing :T I wanted to reference Nightmare Rarity with Sweeties design, not sure how I feel about it.

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Apple Bloom was babied to hell and back by her family, mainly Applejack. Very much overbearing helicopter parent type childhood (Applejack worries too much). She developed an interesting set of issues from this. She feels simultaneously completely lost/directionless in life and inferior to everyone (specifically intelligence wise) AND also the pressure of a thousand ancestors on her shoulders, constantly whispering in her ear about how she needs to take control and be as good, if not better, than what everyone around her expects her to be. Sooooo.. she has to be the best of the best but also has no clue where to start and huge anxiety issues about starting things and about asking for help. Lovely \(^^')/

I'm also toying with giving her some paranoia problems, but I'm still on the fence about that.

In her early adulthood, after the CMC fell apart, she starts job hopping and traveling around. Trying everything she can get her hooves on. Not being perfect at things as fast as she wants to be and subsequently quitting. Never earning her cutie mark ("Crusaders of the Lost Mark" never happens in Novaverse). Always returning home every weekend. Until she doesn't. She starts distancing herself from her family bit by bit after realizing how toxic the environment is for her. Finally ending with her going no/low contact. Applejack is absolutely devastated by this. After a few years of learning to live and learn for herself and coming to terms with the fact that she isn't - and will never be - perfect, she returns to Sweet Apple Acres. her decision comes from something bad happening (not sure what yet, prolly Granny Smith's death but we shall see). Finding the entirety of Sweet Apple Acres barely surviving, Apple Bloom finally decides to reach out to her old friends for help to get Sweet Apple Acres back onto it's hooves. Finally earning her cutie mark in the process. This also kick-starts Applejacks self improvement arc.

I'm still not super pumped about the markings i've given her in this sketch, I feel like they're a bit too saturated in parts.

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And finally, Scootaloo, who I honestly have absolutely no idea what to do with-

Important note before I start rambling: Scootaloo is a transman in Novaverse and goes by he/him, so those are the pronouns I will be using in the paragraphs following.

Starting off, I absolutely despise how his parents are introduced and characterized in the show. How they managed to make his aunties the sweetest of the sweet but rush his parents out the door so horribly? I'll never know. But I sure as hell am mad about it and will rewrite them >:T So his aunties stay the exact same for Novaverse...however his parentsssss... well-

The current idea is that his mom is sort of like a more extroverted Daring Do type adventurer. Instead of being """the hero""" tho, she's just a botanist who is very excited about her work and sharing her research. She's definitely a mom who didn't want to be a mom and so has turned to ignoring her problems - Scootaloo - and diving head first into her work, dumping her problems on her sister.

Scootaloo's father I have less ideas for. I know for sure I want him to be Māori and also the stern, loving fatherfigure for most younger than him type (think Massimo Marcovaldo from Luca). But that's literally it? The two probably met while Scoot's mom was on one of her work trips but how he is with Scoots, if he's involved or not, if he even knows his son exists - no idea.

The reason I'm rambling off about his parents, is because with Scoots specifically, I imagine he wishes to be like what he imagines his parents to be like. In his head, he most likely imagines his mom as a rebel researcher. Researching things she's not supposed to and publishing findings she's told not to. Being super duper totally punk!! All of this being the complete opposite of who his mother actually is of course. In contrast, his daydream of his father is probably very close to what his father is actually like.

Scoots has a huge rebellious phase when the CMC separate. He's the youngest of the group and takes it the hardest. Rainbow Dash, his second mother, being too absorbed into making her newborn daughter a mini-her, to offer any form of support to Scoots, which also fucks with him a lot. Becoming a complete forest fire of a character for a while. He struggles with becoming attached too quickly to strangers and with keeping relationships - both romantic and platonic. Once the CMC reunite later on in life, he has the hardest time trusting them again and letting them back into his heart.

I definitely need to do more research for + clean up Scootaloo's design a lot. I am however very happy with the general direction of the current concept.

[xoxoavenger]

Blank Space

pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

summary: I can make the bad guys good for a weekend So it's gonna be forever Or it's gonna go down in flames

word count: 2702

warnings: Loki is kinda a dick but

1989 masterlist main masterlist

"You can't be serious." Thor said. Y/N was new to the palace walls, having only become a lady maid for Fridge and befriending her youngest son in the process a couple years ago. She had seen her older son a couple times now, however, and she liked what she saw.

"I'm so serious." She smiled, thinking about his dark hair and blue eyes. Her heart was racing.

"You shouldn't be." Thor rolled his eyes as he stood, walking over to his wardrobe to grab a jacket.

"I'll meet him tonight anyway." She had been invited to the banquet that night, something Thor was currently regretting doing. She was allowed the night off from the Queen, and Thor had made sure to get her a gown. It was her first banquet, after all. "So you can be apart of it, or you can watch it happen." She turns in the mirror to fix her corset, having nothing else to do.

"You were supposed to be coming on my arm." Thor grumbles, straightening his own outfit and opening the door.

"I will," She tells him, grabbing his arm and letting him lead her through the palace. "I'll just be leaving on his."

When they get to the room, Loki isn't there. Y/N spies the name cards quickly and switches hers and Thor's, making sure to take her seat after the mingling before Thor could. When he notice, he narrowed his eyes at her. The King and Queen were due to arrive at any moment, so he couldn't make her switch without causing a scene.

Luckily, Loki caused a bigger scene anyway.

They were all sat down to eat, pointedly ignoring the empty seat next to Y/N. She smiled and talked quietly to the queen while the servants passed out drinks, ignoring Thor who was sitting stiffly still. When Frigga's attention was caught by someone else, the maid turned toward the person sitting on the other side.

"Where is your brother?" Y/N whispered, smiling wide even though she was confused.

"I'm assuming we're about to find out." Thor muttered, taking a long gulp of his mead. As if on time, the large doors opened to reveal Loki, smiling in his green and black suit. He looked every inch of Asgardian royalty, and Y/N's cheeks immediately heated.

It was silent as his shoes clicked on the floor, taking his seat next to Y/N.

"Are the drinks nice?" He asked Y/N, and the room began to fill with noise once more. The big deal about his entrance is that he used the main doors after the King and Queen had entered, which was generally prohibited. She couldn't help but wonder how he got through.

"Of course." Y/N said, trying her hardest to play it cool. She knew that first impressions were generally important, even more so when talking to a god and prince.

"Good." Loki picked his chalice up and drank from it. "Nice to meet you. I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, god of mischief." Loki told her. She nodded and chuckled a bit, finding it funny that he felt the need to introduce himself as if the entirety of Asgard wouldn't recognize him.

"I'm Y/N." She said picking up her own chalice and clinking it against Loki's when he tilted his toward her.

"Nice to meet you. Where's my brother been hiding you?" He asked with a devious smirk, one she could barely keep her eyes off of.

"I haven't been hiding her, you just never bother to be around your family." Thor states with a roll of his eyes. Y/N looks over to him with wide eyes, trying to plead him to stay quiet, but he clearly does not get the memo.

"Right," Loki's smirk hasn't fallen off his face, and all Y/N can do is smile between the feuding brothers. "That still doesn't explain who she is or why she's never been to a banquet before."

"I'm one of your mother's maids." She said, intentionally leaving out the part where Thor invited her.

"I have befriended her and invited her here tonight." Thor said, tilting his chin up. Y/N's eyebrows lifted.

"Ah," His eyes fall but his face stays carefully crafted, which makes her heart ache even though she barely knows him. "So you're here with Thor, then."

"Only in formality." Y/N smiles, putting a hand on his arm. His face lifted once more as he raised an eyebrow.

"I see." It seemed he could read her heart, and it told him exactly what she was thinking.

Thor just put his head in his hands. It was going to be a long night.

~

"Would you happen to have a thick coat I can borrow?" Y/N asks as she waltzes into Thor's room. She had been given less duties at Frigga's request, and while that had to do with the fact that Loki had asked for her to be more free so he could be around her more she appreciated it being granted by the queen.

"Why do you need a thick coat? It's summer." Thor turned to her from his desk, where he had been helping his father with some of the work in order to train for being king.

"Loki is taking me to Jotunhiem." Y/N smiled, cheeks heating as she clasped her hands in front of herself and looked into the distance. Thor felt exactly the opposite.

"What could he possibly want to show you there?" Thor asked, eyes widening.

"I don't know!" Y/N squared her shoulders, starting to get defensive. "He just offered to show me around! Now can I borrow your jacket or not?" She crossed her arms, and Thor just sighed and grabbed his coat from his wardrobe to give to her.

"Be careful." He tells her, still holding onto the coat. "He's a bad guy, Y/N. I know he doesn't seem like it, but he's the god of mischief. He's a trickster."

"Don't worry about me." She smiles, taking the coat from him and folding it in her arms. "I can at least make him a good guy for a weekend." She winks before she's back out the door and in the corridor, and Thor just sighs.

She's in over her head.

She doesn't see it that way, though. She's smiling as she walks into Loki's quarters, where she's been staying the past few nights. She knows it's slightly reckless, but she can't help but fall asleep next to him. It's addicting, having him so close all night. It's a high she can't stop hitting.

So it's even better when Loki shows her the small castle on Jotunhiem that he had arranged with some of the royals he knew. The room they're staying in has a large bed in the middle of the room, canopied.

"God, it's freezing." She whispers, so Loki turns the heat on and brings more blankets into the room.

"It's a good thing I never get cold." He tells her with a smirk, and she feels her insides heat up despite the fact that her fingers are about to fall off.

That night, they're cuddled so close together that Y/N's not sure she'll be able to sleep with the beating of her heart. Somehow, she stays warm and has a goodnights sleep in Loki's arms.

~

"What are you doing?" Loki asks as he walks into Y/N's small room to see her putting on some natural makeup with her maids outfit on.

"The Queen has requested me." She smiles, painting her lips a neutral color that was far from the red that Loki loved.

"I thought I told Mother that you weren't working for her anymore." Loki says with a frown. He had told his mother that he was very fond of Y/N and wished her to be free from her duties so he could spend his time courting her. Frigga was very on board, since she loved Y/N and her son and especially the two together..

"If I'm not working for your mom, I don't have a place in the palace." Y/N tells him with a small smile and the roll of her eyes.

"You do if you're engaged in an official royal courtship." Loki says it while looking at her necklaces, so nonchalant that she drops her lipstick. It splatters on her small vanity as she looks at her reflection. "Good, I never liked that color." He picks the lipstick up and throws it in the small trash with a smirk.

"Official royal courtship?" She whispers, finally tearing her eyes from the mirror and turning to see Loki. He looks normal as ever, the smirk on his face still in place. His words and face distract her enough to not even comment about the fact that he just threw away her lipstick.

"I mean, you surely didn't think we were just friends." The words remind her of the hotel in Jotenhiem, the first time they kissed and much more. He seems to think about this as well, and he puts a hand on the back of her chair to steady himself and lean down to kiss her.

"Where am I to go now?" She asks, leaning back to look at him. She thinks she knows the answer, but she doesn't want to assume and look like an idiot.

"Where else?" He smirks, leaning in once again. "My quarters." Just the way he says it makes her heart race.

"Of course." She leans in and kisses him again, and he pushes her back slightly, deepening the kiss. She thinks how could it get better than this?

And the truth was, it couldn't.

"Coming here separate?" Thor mutters as Y/N shows up to the ball with no Loki on her arm. It wasn't a secret that Loki and Y/N were courting, so it was strange that Loki wasn't with her. Usually, the two were together at all times.

"I can't find him." When he looks over, he can tell her smile is plastered on, as fake as the princess she's trying to be.

"I can." Thor feels bad, outing his brother like this, but he's got a proper courtship with a nice girl, one that Thor wishes he has, and he can't help but be a little jealous. When Y/N follows his eyes over to where Loki is, he can tell her jealous feeling is ten times the amount his is.

She's shocked for a moment as she takes in the scene. Loki isn't doing anything wrong, exactly, but he's not doing the right thing either. He's just sitting on the couch, smirking at the girl with a low cut dress and a tight corset that's practically draped herself over him. Y/N doesn't want to assume, doesn't want to paint Loki as the bad guy immediately, but she knows that there's not many ways she can interpret this game he's playing. She's not sure wether she should go over and confront him or run away. And because he's the Prince of Asgard, rightful heir to the throne, she tilts her chin up and takes a deep breath.

"Dance with me." Y/N takes Thor's drink, doing it in one gulp and setting it down on the closest surface before grabbing his hand.

"I don't think this is a good idea." He says, but he's pulled into the center where everyone else is dancing and they join the group easily.

"Mine rarely are." She smirks, twirling out and downing another drink from a platter that the staff is holding.

It only takes a couple minutes of a few more drinks for her to be leaning all over Thor as they try to dance in time with everyone else.

"People are looking." Thor whispers when she comes back in close enough.

"And?" She says back, tripping over her own shoes. Before she can look and see if the Queen can see, which would be the only problem, someone's arms are around her.

They're familiar, and before he speaks she knows it's Loki.

"Do you mind, brother?" His voice is as nice as it could be, a show for the people still dancing around them. Thor knew that anything he said wouldn't change Loki's mood; if anything, it'd only make him more angry.

Y/N doesn't really walk, more leaning on Loki as he walks.

"You're lucky my mother wasn't there to witness your show." He hisses once they get closer to his quarters. She rolls her eyes.

"You're lucky she wasn't there to witness yours." She shoves off of him, stumbling into a wall but not falling.

"What are you talking about?" He turns to her, both of them stopping in the deserted hallway.

"Who was that girl?" She asks, the rage getting to her especially fast due to the amount of drinks she's had in a short time. She's not drunk, but she's a drink away from it.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She knows he's lying, because even if he's the god of mischief he can't fool her.

"Do you want to try that again?" She prompts with much more confidence than she could ever have sober.

"What, you don't believe me?" He has the nerve to look offended, and she reaches out to slap him.

She doesn't realize she has until the sharp sound rings out and his face is tilted away.

"I am your betrothed." She says quietly, her voice low despite the fact that they're alone and she was screaming a couple minutes ago. "I am your only lover from here on out. I will not be the ignorant queen that everyone feels bad for." She lifts her chin and walks away, still going to his quarters.

They prepare for bed in silence, both doing their different routines. Once they climb into the bed, the huge one they share instead of having a prince-princess suite, the only sound is their breathing.

"I'm sorry." He says it so quietly that she thinks there's a small possibility he didn't say it at all. "She's an old friend. But she knows about us." She isn't sure if she believes him, and she knows that he's leaving out bits. When she just thinks about the way he was smiling with her, her heart splits.

"I love you." She tells him, turning to face him. She lets this lie go for the sake of their relationship, but she's not forgetting it.

~

It's only a couple years later when the lie comes back up.

"I literally saw you with her! You lied about where you were!" She screamed, throwing her hands up.

"When did you become so possessive!" He groans, pushing his sleeves up.

"Possessive?" She tilts her head dangerously, eyes bulging. "We're to be married in a year and you're off prancing around with other girls! You're to be King!"

"I will never be King!" His voice is so loud it ricochets off the walls, scaring her and making her trip backward, catching herself on the dresser. "Father told me last month." This is quieter, and she wishes the breaking of her heart outweighed her rage.

It doesn't.

"So you decided that instead of going to your future wife, you'll ignore me and seek comfort in the arms of a woman I already didn't trust you with?" She rolls her eyes, trying to take deep breaths.

"You clearly do not understand." He turns away to begin to undress himself.

"After five years, you'd think I'd understand you better than anyone." She says sadly. Her heart is breaking; for him, for herself, for what they were.

"Five years is nothing." This breaks her. There's no going back now.

"You dick!" She yells, picking up the glass vase holding flowers and launches it at him. Her aim is shit, so it hits the wall and shatters in front of his face.

"What the fuck?" He turns to her, face full of disbelief. "You're insane!"

"I hate you." She seethes, walking out of the room. He just scoffs and doesn't even chase her, and she's not sure if she's glad or not. She can't make sense of her feelings, and all she can think about is her annoyance with Loki.

But then she passes Thor in the hallway, and suddenly she wonders if she was after the wrong brother the whole time.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @punzoquack @mcueveryday @icequeen1371

[alexanderlightweight]

hi! I'm anon that recommended "x". hope you and saeth enjoy it <3

can you write follow up for prompt for writing wensday: what happens if alec got into alternative universe were he isn't exist yet, so magnus not know him. but magnus know that alec his when sees him and didn't want to give him back to his magnus?

thank you 💜

I'm stopping by the library today to see if they have the movies! so that will be fun ^_^ (the weekend was not as restful as planned so no movies lol)

some family unexpectedly moved nearby (when i say it was unplanned and fast it was very unplanned and fast) and so i've had three impromptu family reunions and @saeths and Nightshade and the house got to stay home.

thank you for the prompts and recs again!

i loved exploring this verse more so i hope you enjoy!

-

Magnus isn’t sure at first that he’ll be able to reach in and access his nephilim’s memories, but his magic is recognized in its core form and as long as he doesn’t pry too deep, it lets him in eagerly.

It’s a comfort to be so welcomed and adored by the entirety of another being and Magnus takes a shuddering breath as he touches his mind to another’s.

Alexander.

Is murmured in an echo of his own voice, again and again as Magnus imprints each image as eagerly as he can to his memory. His magic and mind aren’t the exact same and his nephilim — Alexander’s — soul has been touched too deeply by Magnus’ mirror soul that it will shy from Magnus’ own.

For a little while, at least. Until Magnus erases every trace of that other him from Alexander’s being.

There are a dozen memories that pass too quickly for Magnus to see for every memory he devours ravenously. So many intimate moments that Magnus is aching for, shifting by like sand instead of the priceless treasures they are.

Magnus gets as much as he can before he encounters a trace of magic, a curious but possessive entanglement that guards the rest of Alexander’s memories. Magnus doesn’t dare press harder, not when it doesn’t consider him a threat.

Not yet.

He untangles his mind from Alexander’s and groans when he realizes that Alexander curled himself around Magnus while they were dreaming. He’s pressed up against Magnus, a long cool line of muscle and runes that Magnus wants to defile.

He’s unbearably intimate, his arms holding just enough to embrace but not contain and his face nuzzles into Magnus’ neck. He’s sleeping deeply, a trusting softness to his face and Magnus remembers a glimpse of a blurred face.

 it’s with aching curiosity that he pushes alexander away and uses magic to clean up the uneven scruff. Alexander’s softer, younger underneath the stubble and Magnus cups his jaw and marvels at how his chin burrows into Magnus’ palm, as if this is a common ritual.

Magnus wonders if it was. If the memory was lost when they passed him by or is still behind the chains of another Magnus’ magic.

Magnus kisses the corner of a plush mouth and then he’s wrapping his arms around a strong, firm back as Alexander goes limp and lightly snoring across his chest, legs tangling with Magnus’ own.

Magnus doesn’t want to sleep, to miss a moment of this. He’s never quite had this, the feeling of trust and awe and adoration that is being imparted to him and it’s with the taste of hoarfrost on his tongue that he fights the call of sleep.

For all the restless and sleepless nights, tonight where he wants to remain awake, Magnus finds himself fading, cradled in a protective shield and knowing that Alexander is sleeping listening to the heartbeat that Magnus knows is the same.

He caught that memory and while Alexander slept, Magnus changed the temp of his own heartbeat, to ensure that it was one more thing to convince Alexander to stay.

It’s with the knowledge that his plans are well made that Magnus falls asleep, his hair changing to the strange, half shaved style streaked with white.

—

Magnus comes awake to hands running through his hair and he stiffens for a moment before the magical instinct he set up kicks in, he relaxes, burrowing into the body he’s recognizing as Alexander.

“You shouldn’t tease me so early in the morning, sweetheart.” Magnus murmurs and instead of

He’s met with confusion and a little bit of surprise and Magnus realizes that the gentle pettings and caresses aren’t meant to be foreplay, it’s just Alexander’s normal routine. It’s almost too much for Magnus to handle and he wraps an arm around Alexander’s waist and groans desperately. He has to keep this, no matter what.

“Magnus, are you okay?” Alexander’s voice is hoarser than the memories and he’s a little wary, as if scared of the answer.

“My memories are a bit scattered darling. An effect of what must have been dimension travel.” Magnus pretends to think through it and traces one of the stretch marks on Alexander’s thigh. His boy twitches under his touch, muscles tensing and then relaxing as he moves his leg, giving Magnus more skin to touch. Magnus marvels at the easy trust as runs his nails over the tender skin and runes carefully. “I know you, of course. But something must have knocked me around, the memories of this world’s self are making it hard, but I will never forget you, Alexander. Don’t ever think for a moment that I will.”

“How come I’m okay?” Alexander asks him, curious not upset as he runs his fingers over Magnus’ eyebrows and gently rubs at the hollow of Magnus’ eyes. Magnus’ unglamoured eyes, he realizes with a pang of shock, that Alexander is looking at his real eyes with love and adoration and no hint of surprise.

Like he’s so used to them, it would be more surprising for them to be glamoured.

“You haven’t been born in this world yet.” Magnus tells him, already sure of it. “You’re safe, as long as we can keep you anchored. Which is what I’m doing, I won’t let you go anywhere, Alexander.”

[nevesmose]

When I was a kid, there was a hill overlooking our little town with a mysterious concrete structure at the top. To get there you had to go over the old canal, through the abandoned quarry filled with unidentifiable rusted-out equipment scattered around, and then past the creepy broken-down barn where some comedy genius had written "INSERT DICK HERE" next to a suspiciously-positioned hole in the wall.

The whole place was forested over thickly enough to muffle most sounds, and every so often you'd tread hollowly on discarded shotgun cartridges from farmers and/or farmers' mums sneaking out to shoot rabbits at night.

It was also haunted by the ghost of a drunk horseman, but being drunk we decided his actual ability to inflict harm on us would be fairly limited.

In any case, having avoided tetanus, gunshot wounds and catastrophic dick chafing, you'd reach a small sunlit clearing right at the top of the hill. The views were truly spectacular - to the north, fields. To the east, fields. To the south, fields. To the west, fields. The benefits of a rural childhood.

Right in the middle of the clearing was a kind of rectangular metal hatchway set low into the ground. Looking at it you could tell it had been opened up and filled in with concrete at some stage, and needless to say our little minds ran rampant trying to guess what was down there. For about fifteen minutes anyway, and then we'd wander off and smack the shit out of each other with tree branches - we were only kids after all.

The main theory, settled on with all the gravitas and judiciousness we could muster, was that it was some kind of Cold War era nuclear bunker. Not that we really knew much of what that meant, all being members of the first post-Soviet generation who didn't have to grow up with ideas like the four-minute warning or Protect & Survive knocking about inside our heads.

Somebody remembered seeing War Games on Channel 4 one weekend afternoon so we based our mental image on that and conjured up a miniature Scottish version of NORAD sitting empty under our feet, all big maps and flashing lights drowned forever in grey concrete.

And then we grew up a bit and thought, nahh, there's no way it was a bunker. It was a radio tower platform or a power substation or something, right?

But it was a bunker though. I looked it up years later and it was a two-person Royal Observer Corps fallout monitoring station to be used for keeping track of the devastation of our closest city, about 20 miles away. The entirety of the UK is hoaching with these things and I can guarantee you if you grew up anywhere in Britain you were much, much closer to them than you might expect.

Not just close to the bunkers but to the people who would have crewed them in the event of armageddon. That's the thing about the ROC, as I've found out since - it was a voluntary service operated by people living nearby.

So who, I wonder, were the unsung unknown uncalled-upon heroes who'd be there when the end came? Who in my sleepy little village with one school, one church and one main street would have had to leave their families to their fate and spend their next, and probably last, two weeks of life in that tiny concrete cell eating strictly rationed food, breathing strictly filtered air, and working out just how many kilotons had been expended on our little corner of the world?

I have my suspicions, but it's not the kind of thing you can just ask your old neighbour out of nowhere. Would they even have gone if they had to? I wouldn't blame them for a second if they chose to stay home instead. I imagine it was something they all had to decide for themselves and no one, least of all the happy beneficiaries of a better world than the one they lived in, has any right to judge.

I feel as though I'm dragging myself to a Meaningful Conclusion here. Oh boy. The past is always closer than you might think, I suppose. Just around the corner, just out of reach, but always there wherever we happen to be.

This post was mainly motivated by reading the excellent Attack Warning Red: How Britain Prepared for Nuclear War by Julie McDowall, who also does the Atomic Hobo podcast which is well worth a listen if you have any interest in this kind of thing. Don't have nightmares.

[andiatas]

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm starting to feel bad for Marius. Yes, he's 27 years old and a grown adult. He has to take responsibility for himself and his actions. But on the other hand, he's just 27 years old. He's still young, an idiot and clearly still has some growth to do.

This is no Prince Harry, who has never taken responsibility for himself and is actively trying to hook the entire world onto drugs because, according to him, that's the best form of therapy. This is no Prince Andrew, who lied on international TV despite being advised against it, hid behind his mother because he "obviously" had done nothing wrong, and threw money around him, wishing his problems could go away.

What Marius did was horrible, disgusting and unforgivable. I feel for his victims and wouldn't be surprised if they never want to see him again. He will likely spend some time in jail and pay a hefty fine. However, he has publicly owned up to what he did at the beginning of this month. He has publicly apologised to her and his family, and he publicly admitted that he has a problem with addiction. One that he has struggled with for quite some time. He even told us that he has sought treatment for it in the past and will do so again. Marius literally wrote that it's not an excuse for his behaviour; he just wanted to give us context.

All this being said, I'm starting to feel bad for him because it seems like people are revelling and taking the opportunity to pile onto him, left and right. Just to be clear, I'm not talking about those two ex-girlfriends who came forward with accusations of domestic violence. I'm talking about the people coming forward with the stupidest and most petty things ever, purely because "well, everyone else is putting forward charges/stories against him." I'm talking about his so-called friends selling private photos because tabloids across the entirety of Europe are chewing this up. Also, don't get me started on some of the reactions and comments I've seen across social media. The audacity of some of you...

Marius is already paying for this and will likely literally have to pay for this. The most important person in this story, the victim, seems satisfied with his actions. She was happy and welcomed that he apologised and owned up to his mental issues and substance abuse. Once again, he literally wrote, and I quote: "I will now resume this treatment and take it very seriously. The drug use and my diagnoses do not excuse what happened in the apartment at Frogner on the night of Sunday last weekend. I want to be responsible for my actions and will explain myself truthfully to the police."

He knows he f*cked up, he has owned up to what he did, he will cooperate with the police, he will go to rehab again (hopefully, he will also learn to choose better friends). What's the point of piling onto him and trying to paint him in an even worse light? What's the point of publishing and spreading awful photos and stories of him across tabloids? Give the man a break; he has already put himself in a terrible position.

P.S. I'm writing all of this as someone who grew up and survived domestic violence for over 20 years. Not from a partner, but from my biological parents. This is not a topic I take lightly.

[noneofyobusinessiguess]

hey, just doing a little vent hahaha

vidcon 2023 is coming up, right? and this year it's in baltimore! which means, for the first time since i discovered vidcon six years ago, one is finally going to be close enough to where i live that i can actually go! exciting, RIGHT?

well we're going to pennsylvania for my little cousin's birthday.

so i can't go.

so i'm going to miss the entirety of the one vidcon that i actually had a shot at going to.

because i'm going to my cousins birthday.

i love my cousin. always have, always will, but- i feel like maybe, just perhaps i might enjoy vidcon a smidge more than

a. the inevitable tantrum that erupts every time i go over to my cousin's. from said cousin. EVERY TIME.

b. legoland, which is where we're going. not dissing legoland, simply would prefer vidcon

c. driving the solid hour and then some it takes to get from where i live to PA vs the maybe fifteen minutes it takes to get to the convention center.

d. my bitch cousin

not trying to be an entitled child about not getting what i want and putting family first, but- my cousin doesn't like me at all. i don't enjoy being around her, she hits me and gets away with it all the time because 'i'm the oldest cousin, i should know better' despite still being a minor, and every time i go anywhere she throws a fit and instigates a screaming match between my aunt and uncle-in-law, and it stresses me the fuck out.

so pardon me for wanting to not spend a weekend getting dragged around all day and screamed at just because i exist, but wishing i was seeing ranboo and aimsey and scott smajor in person instead.

sorry bout that. needed to get that outta my system.

[gingerontheside]

Ryokan: the Culture experience

As thrilled as I might have been to lounge around the Ryokan and Onsen the entirety of the long weekend, we decided it was for the best to actually go out and explore the area of Shimo-Suwa. It seemed the rural mountain town had a lot to offer in terms of cultural experiences, and who were we to deny ourselves of that?

Armed with a map sporting a "99 Minute Walking Tour of Shimo-Suwa," we ventured out of the Ryokan. I actually found the exact map we used, so feel free to check it out below:

We were on our way! Our first stop was to the side of the Raiko-Ji Buddhist temple, where we followed along the side of a large and beautiful cemetery until we happened upon what seemed to be a very old stone Torii gate. We bowed and entered, finding many shrines that were built in Japan's Edo period along the steep pathway and surrounded by a babbling stream. One of the most surprising shrines was a bright red Torii gate with a shrine that held many tiny statues of cats. This gate had clearly just been repainted, as it was very stark against the old stones that surrounded it.

It was not a great sign that all of us had already begun to feel the steep slopes in our leg muscles, yet we persevered and moved on to the next location. The Nasendo Highway is the path we had chosen to follow, which was high above the town below and provided beautiful views of the mountains and the whole valley. We passed by many beautiful traditional-style houses, and each seemed to have its own shrines set up meticulously in its backyard.

After a bit of walking, we made it to the gates of the Jiun-Ji Temple. It genuinely looked as though passing through the gate was entering another world, as everything was so dreary but through the gates the lush green moss was stark.

Inside, we walked carefully along the stone pathway to view the massive trees that lined the walkway. Inside, the Shrine was actively in use, as we could hear a priest chanting some kind of hymn from inside the main large shrine building. We had to strictly follow the pathway here, as all around us the loose pebbles were carefully arranged into a massive zen garden surrounding each building.

The path led us to a cemetery behind the shrine, where wooden buckets and ladles were located so that if/when a family or friend was visiting, they could cleanse the stones of their loved ones. Sound traveled quite well within the shrine, so we spoke in whispers and stepped very delicately, not wanting to disturb the priest. Down a steep stone staircase from the shrine was the Dragon's spout, where hot spring water always sprayed from a stone dragon's mouth that was carved in the middle Edo period. Though, honestly, it was more of a spittle than a spray of water.

Next, we made our way to the Harumiya Shrine. This shrine was very large and immaculately decorated, though honestly I was most compelled by the massive trees that stood around the shrine and were wrapped in some sort of special rope. I was told by Ash this was done by the priests to keep some form of spirit trapped within the trees they were wrapped on. By the entrance, two elderly attendants were stoking a fire. I'm not entirely sure why they did this, but it did add to the spiritual ambiance.

After exploring Harumiya for a while, we jaunted on over to the Ukashima-sha Shrine, which was very cool as it was located in the middle of a sandbar! Two bright red bridges metal connected the sandbar to the main mainland, which was really fun to run along.

There was construction happening along the waterway, which detracted a bit from the 'natural' beauty of the shine, but nonetheless, the shrine was very cool and it was funky to be surrounded by water on all sides. It gave the shrine a very 'disconnected from the physical world' vibe.

Next to the sandbar was a long walkway, which lead us right to the sight of the Manji Buddha statue. I was really looking forward to seeing this statue, as it was featured in nearly every aspect of the town. In paintings, in warnings, in advertisements, the Buddha was there to greet you. The story of the statue is that, in the Edo period, a sculptor was beginning to carve the stone, when it suddenly began bleeding and the people panicked. Convinced it was sacred, the stone was then carefully carved into the likeness of Amitabha Buddha, with a somewhat humorous appearance of a tiny head with a large nose upon a bulbous body. By the statue were instructions on how to properly pray, which we gave an honest shot. The instructions read; Bow once and say your prayer in your heart, then circle the statue 3 times while chanting the prayer in your heart, then bow once more.

This was the end of our cultural walk, as it then began to rain and it was very cold out so we did not want to linger. On our way back to the Ryokan, we passed by the Gebabashi Bridge, which was the oldest standing wooden structure in Shimo-Suwa. It was shaped like a half moon, aka it was VERY steep. It was cool to see where the bridge once stood, as it was now in the smack middle of a main road.

On our last day in Shimo-Suwa, we finally made our way to the Suwako Watch & Clock museum, a museum that sports the oldest Hydrolyc clock tower in Japan. Shimo-Suwa is known as the birthplace of the modern clock in Japan, so it was only natural that they had a whole museum dedicated to clocks. It was fun to walk around the main museum and see many different forms of clocks dating way back in the day to modern watches, and there were several interactive exhibits that explained how clocks worked, which was informative and fun. The main call of the museum, however, was the world's first fully operational water-powered astronomical clock tower that was in the courtyard.

This clock is over 900 years old (WOAH), and had been refurbished with (kind of creepy) statues to represent the workers that used to remain within the clock tower. We were actually allowed inside the tower, where two staircases lead you from the ground floor (where all of the old tech was), to the second floor, where an astronomical globe was carved with 1314 stars that were known at the time. (..I think. I honestly cannot find the paper that told me the star count)

Each hour, when the clock would chime, the main tower in the center (seen above) would spin with little statues, and little men would strike on drums or on bells. On the right-hand side, two doors would swing open and reveal a wax figure animatronic (again, kind of creepy) that would narrate...something. I don't know Japanese practically at all, so I did not catch what the animatronic was saying, but it was funky.

Our time in Shimo-Suwa had come to an end, and I have this to say: Nowhere in the US can you walk around a tiny town with this much history. Literally, since half of the shrines were made before the US was founded. Isn't that insane??

[flaredpantsagenda]

Hi again, it's your exo-l secret santa! 🎅 Sorry I'm a bit late in replying again, but I've been doing alright. I'm glad to have some free time with this holiday weekend and hmm for Dec, I just see myself working per usual lol. I'm really happy that things are looking up for you though and yes this cold weather is definitely making me crave being wrapped up in a burrito and chugging a lot of hot cocoa lol. (1/3)

Oh and yes he looked so cute there. And haha, it's definitely true how biases can sneak up on you...And as for my biases? Well, I love all the members but I love the maknae line especially. Ahh time's really going by fast though, right? I swear it was just the beginning of Nov and I feel like after a blink of an eye, it'll be a new year lol. But in a way I feel like it's a nice thing since that'll make Baekhyun's discharge from the military seem to come that much faster <3. (2/3)

Anyways, for this santa exchange, am I right to assume you'd prefer something cozy/warm and related to Baek, Kyungsoo or Yeol? Lastly, I hope you had a great Thanksgiving if you celebrate it! 🌸 (Sorry, I had to send this ask in 3 parts btw because of I guess a word limit? I didn't even know one existed for asks until this day lol.) 3/3

____________

Hi! Glad to hear you at least get a short break and I hope work isn't too stressful! I did have a nice Thanksgiving! No turkey but I did spend time with family <3

I know exactly what you mean about the time going by so quickly. I still feel so new to the fandom but it's wild to think I'll have been around through the entirety of Chanyeol and Baekhyun's enlistments.

Aww nice the maknae line are such sweethearts. Do you have a favorite comeback/era?

For the gift exchange, yes, I would love anything cozy and warm and colorful, I'm all about that! I know my reply is super last minute, but anything you make will be lovely <3

PS I had the exact same issues with trying to send asks- sometimes there's a word limit sometimes there isn't?? lol we all make it work on this website.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

No, I Don't

For @witcher-bows-and-arrows

Prompt: Confession (SFW)

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Rating: T

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier are trying to navigate their way through a brand new long-distance romance after a decade of friendship. So when Geralt accidentally tells Jaskier that he loves him, he panics. Just a little.

Also on AO3!

Novigrad International Airport is chaotic around Geralt and Jaskier, with people rushing around to get to their flights, announcements about lost baggage blaring overhead, and families and friends either having enthusiastic reunions or tearful goodbyes. Normally, it would be enough to put Geralt’s teeth on edge. He’s never liked noisy, crowded places, and airports are the worst of all. But right now, his focus is entirely on the man in his arms.

“You should really get going,” Jaskier murmurs. “Your flight leaves in an hour. You need to go through security.”

“In a minute.” Geralt nuzzles Jaskier’s hair. His boyfriend is a warm, familiar weight in Geralt's arms, his head tucked against the side of Geralt's neck. He smells like his fancy eucalyptus shampoo, the chamomile hand cream he favors, and the caramel latte he spilled all over himself on the drive to the airport. Geralt could hold him forever. As much as he loves these visits, saying goodbye gets harder every time.

They started dating six months ago after being best friends for a decade, since rooming together their freshman year at Oxenfurt University. Geralt has had a crush on his friend since that first day at the dorm and he knows Jaskier feels the same way. It’s just their luck that they finally both worked up the nerve to do something about it right before Geralt moved from Novigrad to Ard Carraigh to be closer to his family. But despite five hundred miles between them, they’re making it work.

"I'll see you at Yennefer and Renfri's wedding in thirty-four days," Jaskier says. "You won't even have time to miss me."

The problem is that Geralt already misses him. He missed him for the entirety of the four days he spent in Oxenfurt. He missed him on the plane ride over. He's missed him since their long weekend in the Kestrel Mountains last month. He always misses Jaskier, even when they're together, because it's never enough.

Geralt is trying to think up the words to say all that when Jaskier says, "Darling, you really need to get going.”

"Alright." But Geralt doesn't let go.

Jaskier huffs a laugh against his shoulder. "Have a safe flight."

"Can't really control that."

"Tell the airline you have a terrifying boyfriend and if anything happens to you, I'm coming for them."

"Not aiming to end up on the no-fly list today, Jask."

"Where's your sense of adventure?" Jaskier cracks up at his own joke and pulls back to look up at Geralt with smiling blue eyes, lips curled into a grin. Geralt feels like his heart might burst.

"I love you." The words tumble from Geralt's lips before he can stop them.

Jaskier's jaw drops, the smile vanishing from his lips.

Fuck. Geralt freezes, mouth opening and closing as the enormity of what he just said, how deeply he just fucked up, hits him. "No," he blurts out in a panic. "No, I don't."

Jaskier's jaw drops even further. "Uh..."

“It just slipped out.”

Jaskier makes a noise that might be a laugh or a gasp.

"Got to go," Geralt says and runs.

***

Jaskier has been in love with Geralt Wolfe since he was eighteen years old and his brand new roommate carried him home when he got too drunk at a frat party to stand. He is very, very used to the man’s peculiarities: his charade that his betta fish named Roach is the same one he’s had since he was twelve, his bizarre love of the same card game that Jaskier's grandparents play, and the fact that he sleeps with no blankets like some kind of serial killer.

But Geralt telling Jaskier that he loves him, shouting “no, I don’t!” and running away may be a new level of bizarre. Most people would probably be in tears, but Jaskier knows Geralt loves him. He’s known it since before they even started dating. It’s in the way Geralt always has a box of Jaskier’s favorite sugary cereal at his place, even though he himself wouldn’t touch it. It’s in the way his eyes brighten whenever Jaskier walks into a room. It’s in the way he always clings to Jaskier when they reunite after a month apart or when it’s time to say goodbye.

Still, Jaskier really has no idea what to do next. He could just text Geralt and tell him he loves him, but he’s afraid that will send his boyfriend running for the hills. No, this situation will require subtlety. It will require finesse.

“What did Geralt do now?” Yennefer asks as soon as he calls her on his drive home, her voice crackling through his car’s speakers.

“Why do you assume Geralt did something?” Jaskier demands. “Maybe I’m just calling to see how the wedding planning is going.”

There was a time when he never would have called Yennefer Vengerberg, not even for a life or death situation, but that’s behind them now. Yennefer and Geralt’s five year relationship starting their junior year of college was tumultuous and messy, but their breakup was amicable. And now that she and the love of his life aren’t breaking each other’s hearts on a regular basis, Jaskier finds her downright delightful. He counts her as one of his dearest friends, not that he can ever admit that to her.

Yennefer groans. “Wedding planning is hellish and I don’t know how anyone does it. I’m being expected to have opinions on fucking centerpieces, Jaskier.”

“You could ask Renfri to have opinions of fucking centerpieces,” Jaskier points out.

After they both have a good laugh about that, Yennefer asks, “Seriously, why are you calling?”

“Geralt did something weird today.”

“Just today?”

“Weirder than usual.” Jaskier recounts the story of Geralt’s blurted confession.

After Yennefer has finished laughing, called Renfri over and put him on speakerphone so he can recount the story again, and both women have laughed a little bit more, Yennefer says, “Well, he told you he loved you. That’s progress.”

“And then he ran away.”

“Oh, and he’s probably planning on faking his death and fleeing the Continent right now.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!”

“He never told me he loved me,” Yennefer says. “Not once in all the years we dated.”

“Seriously?” Fuck, and Jaskier knows that Geralt adored Yennefer, no matter how rocky their relationship got.

“Me neither,” Renfri says. “Not that Geralt and I dated long. And I probably would have faked my death if he had.”

Renfri and Geralt’s romance was a three-month fiasco not long after Geralt broke up with Yennefer and ended when Geralt introduced Renfri to Yennefer and both women were instantly smitten with each other.

“I always knew he did love me,” Yennefer adds. “But he never said as much. I just don’t think it’s his way. His family doesn’t even say ‘I love you’ to each other.”

“Huh.” Jaskier has spent a lot of time with the Wolfes over the past decade and while they’re by far one of the most affectionate families he’s ever spent time with, he can’t actually recall a single instance of them exchanging verbal I love yous. Vesemir would do anything for his sons and Eskel, Geralt, and Lambert for each other, but none of them are particularly verbose, save for Lambert. “Well, that explains a lot.”

“What are you going to do about it?” Yennefer asks.

“Well, that’s why I called you.”

“Jaskier, I’m planning a wedding, working a full-time job, and trying to keep Renfri out of trouble.”

“Hey,” Renfri says, not sounding particularly offended.

Yennefer ignores her fiancee. “I have better things to do than manage your relationship with my ex-boyfriend.”

Jaskier groans. “I can’t let him think it’s bothering me. And I’m afraid if I tell him that I love him, the patented Geralt Wolfe self-esteem issues will strike and he’ll think I pity him or am mocking him or something.”

Yennefer says nothing.

“But it seems wrong to just pretend nothing happened.”

“I don’t know, that’s what I would do,” Renfri says.

“And given your decision-making skills, I now know for a fact that that’s not my plan.”

Renfri cackles.

If Jaskier weren’t driving, he would probably throw himself dramatically onto the nearest surface. “I love him. I know he loves me. I just don’t want to lose him because he freaks himself out. He and I wasted way too much time while he did just that.”

Yennefer mutters something that isn’t quite audible, but Jaskier is sure isn’t flattering. “Treat it like an inconveniently timed fart. Acknowledge it, make it clear it’s not a big deal, and move on.”

“I’m not the best at not making a big deal over things.”

“Well, then do the opposite of what you’d usually do.”

“Thanks, Yenn,” Jaskier says. “Now, tell me about these centerpieces. Are they delightfully tacky? Do they match the bridesmaid dresses?”

And as Yennefer starts ranting about the price of lilies, Jaskier tries to put his worries about Geralt out of his mind.

***

By the time Geralt gets back to his townhouse in Ard Carraigh, he's replayed the conversation with Jaskier in his head at least two dozen times. The shock on Jaskier's face, the way his eyes widened. Even though he knows there won't be a text, he still checks his phone, heart sinking when the only texts are one from Vesemir, asking if he made it home okay, and another from his friend, Regis, asking him if he wants to come over for dinner some night that week.

"Hey, Roach," he greets his betta fish, dropping his baggage at the foot of the stairs. "Nenneke take good care of you while I was gone?"

Roach swims around her aquarium placidly. If she has complaints about his next door neighbor's treatment of her, she doesn't voice them.

“Why do you talk to your fish so much?” Jaskier asked him on their second night living together in the freshmen dorms.

“Who else would I talk to?” Geralt replied.

Jaskier’s resultant squawk of outrage was loud enough that it probably woke the neighbors. “Geralt, I am a delightful conversationalist.”

“Hm.”

“Just you wait, you’re never going to waste time talking to a damn fish again.”

“Jaskier says hi,” Geralt tells Roach. This Roach is bigger than the Roach he started college with, and looks nothing like the goldfish that Roach Jaskier sneakily replaced her with a few months later.

Geralt remembers walking into their shared room to find Jaskier looking sweaty, flushed, and wide-eyed as he hovered near Roach’s tank. The nearest pet store was a mile away and Jaskier didn’t have a car, so Geralt always assumed he had walked the whole way.

Thinking about Jaskier makes Geralt feel like he just swallowed a mouthful of acid.

Cursing under his breath, Geralt pulls out his phone and calls Eskel. “I need to fake my death,” he tells his brother. “How do I do that?”

“Why do you assume I’d know that?” Eskel demands. “What happened, did you finally help Jaskier kill Valdo Marx?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because there’s no better way to win his heart.”

Geralt grimaces. “That’s the problem. I told Jaskier that I loved him.”

“Good for you!” Eskel says. “Took you long enough.”

“And then I panicked, told him that I didn’t love him, and ran away.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why?”

Geralt shrugs. “Like I said, I panicked.”

Eskel is quiet for a moment, then Geralt hears him say in a muffled voice, “Triss, I’m going to have a beer. Want one?”

“It’s not even noon,” Geralt hears his sister-in-law say.

“My family is driving me to drink.”

“Lambert?”

“No, the other little shit.”

“I am not nearly at Lambert’s level,” Geralt grumbles, annoyed. Lambert was an absolute disaster while trying to flirt with his now-partner, Coën.

“I never thought you would be, but here we are.” Geralt hears the sound of a can being popped open. “What did Jaskier do when this all happened?”

“Just stared at me.” Geralt groans. “I fucked up.”

“You did, but you’ve definitely fucked up worse than this before.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

“Look, Geralt, Jaskier adores you. Stop making whatever face you’re making. You know I’m right.”

Geralt smooths out his expression, even though he knows his brother can’t see him. “I just don’t…” He trails off, because he doesn’t know how to put exactly into words what he’s scared of. He knows how he feels about Jaskier. He’s fairly certain that Jaskier feels just as strongly about him. But there’s still a part of him that can’t believe that bright, beautiful Jaskier wants him, that nearly decade after he met his blue-eyed roommate and instantly knew this boy was out of his league, he’s finally dating him. He isn’t sure if he’ll ever entirely get over the fear that Jaskier will wake up one day and realize he could find someone just as funny and charming as he is, not a reclusive park ranger whose closest confidant is his betta fish.

Eskel sighs. “You’re not going to want to hear this, but the right thing to do here is talk to him. Not fake your death.”

“Faking my death sounds easier.”

“You’d be miserable without Jaskier.”

Geralt knows he’s right, so he just hangs up.

***

Jaskier normally FaceTimes Geralt every night after dinner, when he’s sitting on his couch in his pajama bottoms and one of the many t-shirts he’s pilfered from Geralt in their decade of knowing each other. But he finds himself stalling after dinner. He gives his kitchen an extra-thorough scrub-down, even though Geralt left it spotless after cleaning up from dinner the night before. He reads a chapter in a dense fantasy novel he’s been trying to get through for weeks. He preps his lunch for the next day, which is something he normally throws together before running out the door. He calls his parents and his sister and is contemplating his grandmother before remembering that she’s on a cruise.

It’s nearly nine when he finally summons his courage and calls Geralt. The phone rings for so long that he thinks that Geralt’s not going to pick up, but then his boyfriend’s face appears on the screen. Geralt must have just gotten out of the shower; strands of damp white hair are clinging to his cheeks and his skin is flushed. He looks uncertain.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and husky.

“Hey.” Jaskier tries for a nonchalant smile. “How was your trip?”

“Fine. No need to threaten any pilots.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

There’s an awkward silence. Silences between Jaskier and Geralt are usually comfortable things after all these years. Geralt is one of the few people Jaskier feels comfortable being quiet around.

Jaskier remembers his conversation with Yennefer and Renfri and forces himself into action. “Look, about earlier—”

Geralt grimaces. “Jask—”

“It’s fine, Geralt,” Jaskier says. “Look, things slip out sometimes. It’s not… I’m not mad or anything.”

Geralt’s expression is entirely unreadable. “Okay.”

“I just…” Jaskier trails off, at a loss for words. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to say something you don’t mean. I like the way things between us are right now. Nothing needs to change if you don’t want it to.”

A line appears in between Geralt’s brow. “I don’t want anything to change.”

“Good.” Jaskier nods. “So glad that’s settled then. Well, I know it’s nearly your bedtime, old man.”

Geralt snorts. “I’m less than six weeks older than you.”

“And yet, you’ve been an old man at heart since we were eighteen.” Jaskier smiles, relieved for the return to the usual banter. “Sleep well, dear heart.”

“Sleep well, Jask.” Geralt hangs up.

Someday, Jaskier tells himself, they will laugh about all this. Someday.

***

Geralt should probably be relieved that Jaskier isn’t more upset about the “no, I don’t” incident. He was worried that his boyfriend would be devastated, but Jaskier seems… fine. So fine that Geralt wonders if Jaskier is relieved that he ran away. Maybe if Geralt had stayed after telling Jaskier that he loved him, Jaskier wouldn’t have said it back. Maybe Geralt would have been forced to realize that his feelings really are one-sided.

In the weeks after Geralt’s trip to Oxenfurt, Geralt and Jaskier barely talk. It’s not that they’re purposefully avoiding each other, or at least Geralt doesn’t think they are. They’re just both busy with their respective jobs and keep missing each other. But the longer they go without really talking, the more strained the few quick conversations they have seem.

But then thirty-four days have passed and it’s time for Yennefer and Renfri’s wedding. Jaskier and Geralt have been planning on going as each other’s dates and sharing a hotel room since before they actually started dating. There’s no one Geralt would rather attend his ex-girlfriends’ wedding with than his best friend.

To Geralt’s relief, when he walks into the hotel room and finds Jaskier already there, his boyfriend throws himself into his arms like he did when he picked him up at the airport in Novigrad over a month ago. Geralt tucks his face into Jaskier’s hair, breathing in the familiar smell of eucalyptus and chamomile, and tells himself that everything is okay.

And the wedding is beautiful. Yennefer has always known how to throw a party and everything goes off without a hitch, save for a minor ruckus involving the flower girl and the chocolate fountain.

“Oh, I see Ciri takes after her godfather,” Jaskier says as their friend, Duny, walks by, carrying his chocolate-smeared, very smug three year old under one arm.

Geralt snorts. “I’ve never jumped into a chocolate fountain before.”

“Oh, but I used to have to drag you away from the snack table at parties, remember?” Jaskier pokes him in the arm. “Pretty girls would be flirting with you and you’d be making intense eye contact with the punch bowl.”

“Usually because I was hoping you’d come over and flirt with me instead.”

Jaskier smiles sweetly and grabs Geralt’s hand. “Come on, you can’t say things like that and then not dance with me.”

“Oh, is that how this works?” Geralt deadpans, but lets himself be pulled onto the dance floor.

Later that night, when he and Jaskier are back in their hotel room and Jaskier is looking up at Geralt with lust-drunk blue eyes, Geralt can feel the words, “I love you” on the tip of his tongue. He wants to say them so badly, but he can’t. So he tries to say it with kisses pressed against Jaskier’s lips, with fingers tracing patterns on Jaskier’s skin, with his body moving against Jaskier’s in perfect harmony. He hopes that Jaskier can see the love in his eyes and taste it in his kisses. He hopes he knows.

Later, when Jaskier is asleep in his arms, a gentle weight on his chest, Geralt whispers those words into his boyfriend’s hair. His only answer is a little snore.

***

Thirty-six days after he stood in front of the Novigrad International Airport and said goodbye to Jaskier, he stands at a gate in the King Demavend Airport in Vengerberg and hugs his boyfriend tight.

“I keep waiting for this to get easier,” Jaskier murmurs into the crook of his neck. “Every time we part ways, I wish someone would up and relocate Oxenfurt five hundred miles closer to Ard Carraigh.”

“Hm,” Geralt says. What he wants to say is, “I love you. I don’t want to leave you again. I want to stop saying goodbye.”

Jaskier kisses his jaw. “We’ll see each other in forty-two days.”

“Forty-two days,” Geralt echoes. “Roach looks forward to your visit.”

“And I look forward to seeing her. Give her some extra fish flakes for me to tide her over.”

“You always overfeed her.”

“She’s a fish. Her life is a tank, albeit a lovely and enriching one. She needs a little extra joy.” The flight attendant announces that it’s time to line up to board the flight to Novigrad and Jaskier gives Geralt one last kiss before stepping back.

“Fly safe,” Geralt tells him.

Jaskier’s eyes twinkle. “You going to fight gravity to avenge me if my plane falls out of the sky?”

“If I have to,” Geralt tells him, earning a bark of laughter from his boyfriend that draws the attention of the people around them.

“See you in forty-two days, Geralt,” Jaskier says, grinning, and turns away.

“I love you,” Geralt doesn’t say. He stands there, the flow of the airport moving around him, as he watches Jaskier line up to get on his flight, smiling to himself as Jaskier makes easy smalltalk with the people on either side of him. He waits for Jaskier to vanish from view before he goes to catch his own flight back to Ard Carraigh.

***

Geralt’s townhouse is just the way he left it when he gets home that afternoon. Roach bubbles contentedly around her tank. The book he’s been reading rests on his bedside table. Nenneke was kind enough to leave him some leftover casserole in the fridge so he doesn’t have to get takeout. Everything is exactly how it should be, and yet Geralt can’t settle down. There’s a strange restlessness under his skin, one that has him pacing the length of the house.

He tries meditating. When that doesn’t work, he tries watching TV, but the only thing that’s on is an old rerun of a sitcom that Jaskier used to love in college. Every time the laugh track plays, he can picture Jaskier sprawled across the foot of Geralt’s bed, which had a better view of the TV than Jaskier’s own side of the room, laughing so hard that he shook the entire bed. It causes something to squeeze in his chest.

Jaskier texted him hours ago to tell him that he arrived safely in Oxenfurt. Geralt wonders if his boyfriend is sitting on his own couch now, watching this same sitcom. Suddenly, it hits Geralt how badly he wants to be with Jaskier right now, his arm around him so he can feel Jaskier’s shoulders shaking with laughter, their legs tangled together.

He thinks of the love confession that lingered on the tip of his tongue all weekend. Alone in his house, he can’t think of a single good reason for him to not have told Jaskier how much he loves him.

It’s just over five hundred miles between Oxenfurt and Ard Carraigh. Geralt suddenly resents every single one of those miles, because he can’t wait another forty-two days before he tells Jaskier that he loves him and after over a decade, Jaskier deserves better than to be told over the phone. He deserves better than to have had to wait a decade, but there’s nothing that Geralt can do about that now.

Geralt’s bags are still packed from Vengerberg. He only has to text Nenneke to ask her to feed Roach for a few more days, grab his car keys, and head out the door.

***

Jaskier fell in love with Oxenfurt on his first day at university. It’s a city with so much life and personality; there’s nowhere on the Continent that’s quite like it. He loves the coffee shop where he gets a latte and a bagel every morning. He loves the Nilfgaardian place across the street. He loves being able to walk a block to visit Priscilla and Shani. He even loves his apartment, though it’s a bit of a shithole with a water heater that barely works and noisy neighbors.

But he loves it a lot more when Geralt met him at that coffee shop most mornings before they went to their respective jobs. He loved it a lot more when he knew that Geralt’s place was only a twenty minute drive away, in Novigrad, and that he could show up whenever he wanted, bringing food from their favorite Nilfgaardian place. He loved it a lot more when he could stop by Geralt’s place to shower when his hot water heater wasn’t working or to sleep on Geralt’s couch on nights he was feeling lonely and adrift.

All the things Jaskier loves are ten times better whenever Geralt is around.

Jaskier is always a bit moody after saying goodbye to his boyfriend and tonight is no different. He orders takeout from the Nilfgaardian place and watches one of his favorite musicals on TV, but can’t quite enjoy either of them as much as he normally would. Giving up on the musical halfway through, he calls Geralt. When his call goes to voicemail and his follow up text message gets no response, Jaskier gives up and decides to go to bed. He can talk to Geralt in the morning.

He falls asleep quickly and is having a dream about showing up to lecture and realizing that he’s wearing a court jester’s outfit when his intercom buzzes. Jaskier jerks awake with a startled shriek. After feeling his head to ensure that he’s not wearing a jingly little hat, he glances at the clock to see that it’s just past 1 AM. Who the fuck buzzes someone’s intercom at this time of night?

Jaskier disentangles himself from his bedsheets and stalks into the living room to press the intercom button, ready to give someone a piece of his mind, when a familiar voice says, “Jaskier?”

It’s the last voice Jaskier was expecting to hear. “Geralt?”

“I’m sorry, I should have called.” Geralt’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Showing up here unannounced seemed like a much better plan eight hours ago.”

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Ard Carraigh?”

“I drove here.”

None of Jaskier’s questions are answered, but he says, “Hold on, come on up. You are Geralt, right? Not a serial killer with a shockingly similar voice?”

“Given how often you forget to lock your door, if there was a serial killer after you, you’d be long gone.”

“Definitely Geralt, then. Only you would have the balls to show up at my door at 1 AM and then sass me.”

“Not at your door yet, Jask.”

“I should make you sleep outside just for that attitude.” But Jaskier buzzes him up anyway. A moment later, he hears footsteps in the hallway and swings his door open to find Geralt wearing the exact same clothes he was wearing at the airport in Vengerberg that morning, carrying the same luggage he brought to the wedding.

“Geralt—“ Jaskier starts to say, because he has a million questions. Has something happened? Is Geralt here to break terrible news to him? Oh gods, is Geralt here to break up with him? Because Geralt is exactly the type of person to drive across the Continent rather than break up over the phone.

“I love you,” Geralt blurts out.

Jaskier’s mouth falls open in surprise. He waits for the panic, for Geralt to shout “no, I don’t!” and speed back to Ard Carraigh. Instead, Geralt drops his bags and reaches forward to grab Jaskier’s hands.

“I panicked after I told you before,” Geralt continues. “I shouldn’t have run away. And I should have said something afterwards, but you seemed fine, and I thought that maybe you were glad that I had taken it back and run away.”

Geralt is almost babbling. Jaskier has never heard him babble before.

“I wasn’t fine,” Jaskier says when he recovers himself. “I acted fine because I was worried you were going to fake your death and flee the Continent if I wasn’t.”

Geralt cracks a tiny smile. “I thought about it.”

“Of course you did.” Jaskier loves him so much he feels like his chest may burst with it. "I'm sorry, my love, I thought I was playing it cool, as my students would say. I didn't mean to torture you."

“If you don’t feel the same—” Geralt starts to say before Jaskier silences him with a kiss.

“I have loved you since I was eighteen years old,” Jaskier tells him when they pull apart. “I loved you when you barely spoke to me those first few months and I kind of thought you hated me. I loved you that time you told that rugby player that you were the one he saw climbing out his girlfriend’s window and took a beating for me. I loved you when you were in love with someone else and I thought I would never have a chance with you. I loved you when we had that fight our senior year and didn’t talk for six months. I loved you when I got norovirus and you spent days nursing me back to health, even though I’m pretty sure I was gross.”

“You were repulsive. Thought I was going to have to call the Health Department to take you away.”

“And you know, I love you even when you say shit like that.”

Geralt huffs a laugh and leans his forehead against Jaskier’s. “I loved you even when you didn’t stop talking the entire first few months we lived together. I loved you when I got the shit beat out of me by a rugby player because I knew you couldn’t take a punch. I loved you when things were going to shit with Yenn and you let me sleep on your couch for a week. I loved you when you sang that song about my abs at open mic night. I loved you when you ran to the pet store to replace Roach with a fucking goldfish.”

“She was a damn fine goldfish.”

“I’ve loved you for over ten years now,” Geralt tells him. “And I should have told you that every single day.”

Jaskier’s throat suddenly feels too tight. “And I should have told you. Gods, Geralt, I’ve loved you so long, I’ve forgotten how not to love you. I don’t know why it took me so long to say it.”

“Because I would have panicked and run away.”

“You make excellent points,” Jaskier says. “But we figured it out eventually. Better late than never, right?”

“Right,” Geralt says and kisses him again.

***

“I can move back west,” Geralt tells Jaskier the next morning as they lie in bed. Well, afternoon, really, since it’s just past noon. Geralt hasn’t stayed in bed this long since college, but he and Jaskier were awake until nearly dawn and he doesn’t want to let go of Jaskier, who is warm and sleep-rumpled in his arms.

Jaskier props his chin on Geralt’s chest and frowns. “But you love living near your family.”

“I do.” Geralt feels a pang at the thought of being across the Continent from Vesemir, Eskel, and Lambert again. He lived apart from them for far too long.

“And you have that gorgeous townhouse. And you love your job.”

“Love you more,” Geralt says. Now that he’s started saying it, he can’t stop. “I don’t want to live five hundred miles from you anymore. I miss you like crazy whenever we’re apart.”

Jaskier presses a kiss to his pec. “I miss you too, dear heart. But I don’t want to ask you to give up your life for me.”

“I’d have you. It would be worth it.” Geralt strokes a hand through Jaskier’s hair.

“I could move to Ard Carraigh.”

Geralt frowns at him. “You love Oxenfurt.”

“I do," Jaskier says with a nod. “But I’ve had a decade in Oxenfurt. Maybe it’s time for a change.”

“I can’t ask you to move for me.”

“Geralt, I’m an adjunct professor who makes a pittance. I don’t own property. I don’t have any family that I’m close to in the area. Of the two of us, it’s far easier for me to relocate.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“But I want to.” Jaskier’s eyes are big and so, so blue. “I want to wake up like this every morning. I want to know that you’re close by when I need you or you need me. I’d cross the Continent for you every day for the rest of my life if need be, but I don’t want to have to do that. I want to be with you, Geralt. So long as you’ll have me.”

“Of course I will,” Geralt says hoarsely, cupping Jaskier’s cheek in his hand. “I always will. Roach would love having you as a roommate again.”

“Oh?” Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“Roach would be furious if I didn’t.”

“Ah yes, can’t piss off the fish.” Jaskier kisses him. “I love you, Geralt.”

“I l—”

“No, I don’t!” Jaskier bounds out of bed, taking most of the covers with him. He nearly trips over the blanket, rights himself, and turns to Geralt with a shit-eating grin.

Geralt blinks at him, unimpressed. “You’ve been waiting for a chance to use that line on me, haven’t you?”

“Look, now that we’ve figured our shit out, this can be a funny story for posterity!”

“You’re never going to let me live this down,” Geralt says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, absolutely not.” Jaskier’s grin only gets wider. “I’m going to have ‘no, I don’t’ embroidered on a pillow. It’s going to come up in the wedding vows. I’m going to tell our children and our grandchildren and our great-grandchildren about this.”

Geralt has to fight his own smile at the thought. “I change my mind. Don’t love you anymore.”

Jaskier arches an eyebrow in clear challenge. “Yeah, you do.”

With a sigh, Geralt drags himself off the bed and goes to pull his beautiful, ridiculous boyfriend into his arms. “Yes, I do.”

***

Tag list: @kueble @maya-the-yellow-bee @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username

[jake-g-lockley]

The Light of My Knight | Moon Knight x Desi!Reader | Chapter 7: Divine Couples

Warnings: Racism, harassment, alcohol Word Count: 3.5 k

Taglist: @brekkers-desigirl @wordacadabra @paymeinkash @ahookedheroespureheart @sodonuthideout @obsessedwadonis @local-mr-frog @swiggy-needs-mental-help

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Your POV

“Alright, gather around folks! Welcome to the British Museum! My name is Y/N and I will be your tour guide for today.” 

The rush that you get from saying those lines never gets old. Being a tour guide just makes you feel so in control. You love sharing your knowledge with those who are willing to listen. Giving your tour group a big smile, you usher them to the first artifact. Today your group was a mix between a family of four and a group of school students. 

“To my left is a carving of the Goddess Durga amma and the demon Mahisha. The sculpture is dated to be circa 1200 C.E. and was taken from Odisha, India.”

The father in the family of four scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

You pretended not to notice the overtly obvious gesture and continue with your explanation, clearing your throat. 

“The Goddess is depicted here to be slaying the demon. She is manifesting her supreme power as the dispeller of evil and is represented by her multi-armed form. If you take a close look at the carvings, you can notice that the Goddess is welding multiple weapons such as a broad blade sword, Lord Shiva’s trident and Lord Vishnu’s discus.”

Throughout the tour, the father kept throwing snide remarks about the artifacts in front of them, testing your patience. Nevertheless, you kept your cool and kept your chin up, answering the questions that the student had and clarifying minor elements of the history surrounding these artifacts. 

“Ah, here is another carving from Odisha, circa 1200 C.E. It displays the divine couple, Lord Shiva and his consort Parvati amma. The sage Bhringi had neglected worshiping Parvati amma when worshiping Lord Shiva and so to place emphasis on their unity to the sage, she sat on Lord Shiva’s lap.”  

Speaking of divine couples, you watch a dark mass of curls pop up from the back of the gift shop counter, a distance away, handing a customer their purchase.

He catches your eye and winks, giving you a cheeky smirk and you shake your head, turning your attention back to Lord Shiva and Parvati amma. You weren’t familiar yet with the difference between Jake and Marc, but the way he furrows his brows makes you gauge that Marc was the one fronting today. 

You still hadn’t had a chance to talk to them properly yet, only a small “Hi, darling,” in the morning as Steven rushed into his meeting with Donna. Over the weekend, you read up about DID and your stomach churned at the thought that Marc had to endure some sort of trauma that got him to this point. 

You’ve made up your mind not to trigger anything out of them, but instead just continue living with them in your life as if you’ve always known. You figured that it wouldn’t be such a task to act casual about the whole situation. 

A gruff, annoyed voice interrupts your thoughts. “There is no way that these carvings are that old, you’re lying.” 

“I'm afraid that I’m not, sir. These artifacts have been dated years ago by well-known archeologists.” you answer as you try to keep your emotions in check. 

“A barbaric culture such as this could not have made this much of an advancement so early on. You savages could not have made something like this. Like I said, you’re lying. And you keep using the words ‘taken.’ Are you implying that the British stole these artifacts?” he said, stepping closer to you, despite his wife’s protests. 

“Excuse me?” your jaw twitched, but you didn’t move, standing your ground.

After all, what could go wrong? 

“You heard me, you're lying. You have done nothing else but lied to us the entirety of this tour, you curry munching bitch.” he spat. 

“I would request for you to take a step back, please.” you say trying to keep your voice steady. 

“How dare you spread toxic lies to my children? You have the audacity to come into my country and contaminate it with your presence?” He took another step closer. 

You could feel the whole atmosphere around you and your tour group tilt. Turning, you tried to call security but before you could do so, you felt a hard slap across your face and you fell to your knees, clutching your face. You heard your clipboard drop out your grasp and skid away from you. You felt distraught, confused, humiliated, and you didn’t want to move. 

You didn’t know how long you knelt there but soon, you felt strong arms lifting you up to your feet, picking up your clipboard, holding you close. Three security guards swarmed the scene and you let yourself be escorted away, as you caught a glimpse of the man who had just slapped you being tackled to the ground. You felt your tears drip down your chin, and you struggled to stay upright, your face still smarting, ears ringing. 

The strong arms pull you into the dark break room and you feel yourself being pulled into a soft embrace, rocking you back and forth, one arm around you and one hand at the nape of your neck, supporting your head. You fist their shirt and lean into them breathing in their familiar cologne and focus on the masculine scent, breathing in and out, clinging to them like a lost koala bear. 

“That’s it baby, breathe. You’re ok, you’re safe, sweetheart.” Marc's voice cut through the ringing in your ears. 

Marc pulled away just enough to look at your face. His hand gently stroked the side of your face that was aching. His eyes were clouded with an emotion that you've never seen on the boys’ face but when his eyes met yours, they softened and it only made you sob even more. You ducked your head into his chest and continued to cry, as he strokes your hair, muttering softly. 

After what seemed like hours, you hear the door of the breakroom opening, followed by JB’s muffled voice. 

“Steven, the police are here to take Y/N’s statement. They’re in the HR office.”  

You feel Marc tense against you.

“Give us a second, yea?” Steven’s English accent resonated through his chest. 

The door closes again and you look up at Steven, sniffing. He grabs a handful of tissues from the counter on your right and hands it to you, letting you blow your nose and wipe your eyes. 

“Whenever you’re ready, darling. I'll be there beside you, yea?” Steven said, taking your hand, his voice lower than usual.

You nodded, gripping his arm with your free hand. He leads you outside and away from the main museum arena, into the office areas of the museum. The normally quiet HR office was packed, two police officers, Donna, JB, your tour group and Joshua, the head of HR. You caught a glimpse of the family in your tour group, the mother’s eyes were bloodshot and the children were crying.

Donna and Joshua led you, Steven and the police to a separate conference room, where you slowly told them what happened, still not believing it yourself. The police asked some questions and when they were done, they left the room. Donna and Joshua made you sign a few papers. 

“The Museum will handle all legal elements, Y/N, you’ll just probably have to go to court. We will be providing you with a lawyer.” Donna said, reassuringly. “You can go home and rest today, yea? Stevie, can you take the Egyptology tour while I find a replacement for the Asian Gallery?”  

Steven hesitates, turning to look at you. 

“You go on Steven, I’ll be fine, I’ll take a cab home.” you say, wiping your eyes, trying to convince Steven. 

“Alright.”  

When Donna leaves the room, Steven presses a soft kiss on your forehead. He looked terribly worried and clearly didn’t want to let you go on your own. 

“Let’s get your stuff and a cab, shall we?” he sighed.

 ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Moon Boys’ POV

Steven found it extremely hard to concentrate on leading a crowd of people around the museum, especially when his own thoughts were clouded between a mix of unbridled rage, heart wrenching sadness and two men yelling at each other.

“YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME RIP HIS FACE APART!” Jake yelled. 

“And then what, huh? We go to jail for killing a man in broad daylight?” Marc hissed back, his tone slightly more controlled. 

“You think I fucking care? The racist hijo de puta had it coming! Marc, he touched our girl!” Jake growled. 

He touched our girl.

Steven had never felt more angry and helpless in his entire life. He kept seeing flashes of what happened, how the man started to argue with her, how Marc jumped over the counter to run over to her, how the man continued to yell racial slurs at Y/N as he pulled her away from the chaos. He couldn’t get the image of her crying out of his mind, it haunted and pained him. But Steven smiled and continued his tour, trying to keep the whole process as smooth as he possibly could. 

As much as he wanted to ruin the racist’s life, Steven was pretty rational and he knew that the racist had already ruined his own life. He knew that JB had sent the CCTV recordings to the police, there was concrete proof that could help Y/N win the case, easily. He also saw the man’s wife and kids, how traumatized they were. But Steven was more concerned about Y/N and how she was doing at the moment. 

The second the shift had ended, Steven gave Jake control of the body, only after making him promise that he wouldn’t do anything rash or stupid. Jake had calmed down a smidge but he was still on the verge of committing a homicide. His boys told him to keep calm, keep calm for her. 

He arrived at Y/N’s flat in less than 10 minutes, with a box of donuts. The donuts were Steven’s idea, but even Steven knew that the donuts were not going to fix the pain that she was going through at the moment. Jake knocked the door softly, pressing his ear to the door to hear any signs of movement. 

“Y/N, rosa, it’s us.” Jake said, loud enough for her to hear him.

He heard some shuffling and the door clicking open. He slipped inside the flat and collided with a bundle of blankets. A hand shot out of the bundle and grabbed his shirt, pulling him close. He sighed, setting the box of donuts aside and hugged the bundle, sinking onto the floor, pulling the bundle onto his lap.   

They sat there in silence for a good while as Jake held her. Jake slowly moved his hand to the top of the bundle and pulled at where her head would be, exposing her beautiful, sad face. Jake was supposed to be the strong one, the one that kept them out of danger, the one who was scared of nothing, but seeing her face like this absolutely shattered something in him. 

“Talk to me, rosa.”

“It all happened so fast, Jake.” she whispered. “I didn’t do anything, I swear.”

A tear runs down her face and Jake quickly swipes it away quickly, cupping her face in his rough hands. “I know you didn’t do anything, mi corazón, no one saw this coming.”  

She turned and leaned into his chest, ear to his heart. Jake watched as she held his hand open and traced each line slowly. 

“I don’t know why I’m so upset about this. I mean, sure, I didn’t expect to be slapped, but I should be used to the racial slurs that I’ve been getting over the years, living here.” she sniffed.

Jake was taken aback. “Amor, no one should get ‘used to’ racial slurs. Thats a stupid idea. What that asshole did today was wrong. You don’t deserve any of the shit that happened to you today.” 

She stayed silent, still tracing his hand. The blanket slipped away from her shoulder and Jake saw that she was still in her work clothes. 

“You need to shower and change, rosa, get into something more comfortable, okay?” he said softly into her ear and she nodded slowly, getting off his lap. 

While she showered, Marc took over and busied himself with finding some food for her to eat. Marc is relatively relieved that Jake had calmed down significantly when he saw Y/N. Steven was right, there was nothing that they could do, no matter how angry they were about this, except be there for Y/N. He heated some leftover rice and palak paneer that he found in the fridge. 

Just as he plated up the food, Y/N stepped out of the bathroom and padded her way to the kitchen, now clad in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt with a towel wrapping her hair. She frowned at the food in front of her and shook her head. Marc raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed. 

“I’m not hungry, Marc.” 

“You’re getting really good at telling us apart.” Marc’s heart swelled at the recognition. 

“Flattery won’t make me eat the food, Spector.” she grumbled but Marc saw a small smile appear on her face.

“Please?” Marc said, hoping the magic word would do the trick. 

She sighed and reluctantly sat at her dining table and gestured for Marc to do the same. Marc watched as she slowly ate, pushing small amounts of rice and paneer into her mouth using her hand. Suddenly, she turned a handful of food to Marc and he blinked back at her, confused. 

“Sapdu. Or I won’t finish the food.” she pouted, moving her hand towards his mouth. 

Dumbfounded, Marc opened his mouth and she pushed the morsel of food into his mouth with her thumb. He chewed and swallowed, still perplexed as to what had just happened, his eyes wide. 

Y/N giggled at his reaction, the smile that curved on her face triggered the army of butterflies that he thought were killed off during his days as a mercenary, making him involuntarily gasp. He hid it with a cough

“You’re cute when you’re confused.” she said, pushing a glass of water to him. “Thank you for caring about me enough to come here.”

“I- it's nothing, don’t worry about it.” he stuttered, sipping the water. 

She quickly finished the last few mouthfuls. “I’m done, happy?”

“Very.” Marc laughed as she got up to wash her plate.

She walked towards the drying line at her balcony and pulled the towel off her head, scrunching the ends of her hair and then flinging it over the line.

Turning to look at him, she suddenly says “I think we need to talk.”

Marc nodded, not understanding what she meant. She walks back to the kitchen and opens a cabinet, pulling out a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. 

“You drink vodka?” she asks. 

“Not at this hour?” Marc said hesitantly, raising an eyebrow at her. 

“Hmm, I need a lil liquid luck after today's fucking shit show.” she said, pouring two shots. 

Marc watched open-mouthed as she downed the two shots, not breaking eye contact with him. She tilted her head up, swallowed, and grimaced. Marc would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little turned on. In his slight daze, an alarmed Steven took over the body “Y/N, love? Why the alcohol?” 

“Oh goody! Hi, Steven.” she said, stepping between Steven’s legs. They were nose to nose now and Steven nervously chuckled.

“Steven, my cellam boy, will you clear a small confusion in my head?” she whispered, her hands on his thighs. 

“Anything, s-sure.”

“What did our kiss at the aquarium mean?” she said, so softly that it was almost incoherent. Steven’s eyes widened, he knew this question would come but he didn’t expect that to be now. The boys were silent so he took a deep breath and seized the moment. 

“Y/N, from the second we- I saw you, I thought you were the most beautiful being that graced this horrible Earth. You are that one constant that has been in our lives for months now and you help me feel grounded and happy. I can’t go a second without thinking about you and your beautiful face, how you laugh, the way you talk to me about things you love, the way you listen to me! I don’t think there is any bloody word in this world that could help describe how I feel about you, but I guess the simplification of all of this is that, I really, really like you. Like, ugh, bollocks, more than friends.” Steven rambles, avoiding your eyes. 

She tilts his face up by his chin and Steven finds that there is a beautiful smile gracing her face and he gives her a shy, dopey smile in return. 

“I think I like you too, Steven Grant. I think I like all of you. More than a friend.” she whispers. 

“Really?” Steven whispered in disbelief. 

“I didn’t kiss you for funsies, dumbass.”  she says, pouting her bottom lip at him. 

Steven laughs, a breath of relief escapes his lungs as he pulls her closer to him by the edge of her oversized t-shirt. He kisses her, her hand cupping his jaw, her soft pillowy lips making him feel soft and giddy. 

“Wait, all of me? As in…?” he pulls away, tilting his head.

“Yep, the other two. They are an extension of you, and you them. Of course I like them too. Besides, Marc and Jake are not slick. They can’t and won’t escape my wrath.” she says, smirking. 

“Not slick, huh?” Marc fronted and without warning, dipped his head to Y/N’s neck, trailing small kisses that made her whimper. She gripped his thigh to steady herself. 

“Marc…” 

“Hmm, not so vocal now?” He murmurs into her neck, lifting his head, grazing the soft skin with his nose. A content sigh emits from her, twisting his insides and making him laugh. He leaves the warmth of her neck and looks her in the eyes, which are now half lidded. 

“I like you too, Y/N. I like every single thing about you. I could sit here for hours and hours and tell you everything I like about you. You are a goddess.” he sighed. 

Y/N giggled and planted a soft kiss on Marc’s forehead.

“Can I speak to Jake for a second?” 

“Nuh uh, tell her I’m not there, hermano.” Jake said in the headspace.

“Jake? Umm, Jake’s not here at the moment, baby.” Marc says, his brows furrowing. 

“Mmm, lemme guess, he told you to say that, raja?” she says lowly into his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Marc could tell that the effects of the alcohol was slowly kicking in and giving her some new found confidence. 

“Cobarde.” she whispers, the smugness evident in her voice. 

Jake fronted with such force that almost made him fall off the chair. 

“No soy un cobarde.” He growled. 

He twists her and pulls her onto his lap causing her to gasp and throw her arms around his neck.

“Hey, Lockley.” she smiles after regaining her balance on his lap. 

“If I had a heart, it would have been lost to your smile ages ago.” he sighs.

Y/N drags one of her arms down from his neck and places a hand on his chest “Looks like it's still here, you cheesy sod.” she says blandly.

Jake chuckles but soon becomes serious again. 

“Women like you aren’t made to like. You are made for love. Y el amor es malo para mi salud.” he says.

“Says the man who gushes about her as if he would turn into a human door mat for her.” Khonshu says pompously, earning a glare from Jake. 

“Good gods, ni oru tengga da.” she says, her nose scrunching. “I can promise you that if you get sick, I’ll be the one here to take care of you.” she punched him softly.

He shakes his head and holds on to her, just like he did on the floor about an hour ago. He can feel her wet hair damping his arm and her t-shirt. 

“Tú también me gustas, mi rosa.” he finally whispers. “You’re driving me nuts, mami.”

She kisses his jaw and tightens her grip on his shirt. 

“So, does this mean you’re our girlfriend now?” Jake says, looking down at her.

“Mmm, ‘our girlfriend,’ I like the sound of that, boyfriends.” she says giggling. 

 ☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Translations: 

Amma: Mother

Hijo de puta: Son of a bitch

Rosa: Rose

Mi corazón: My heart

Amor: Love

Sapdu: Eat

Cellam: Sweetie

Raja: King

Cobarde: Coward

No soy un cobarde: I am not a coward

Y el amor es malo para mi salud: And love is bad for my health

Ni oru tengga da: You are a coconut dude

Tú también me gustas, mi rosa: I like you too, my rose

Mami: mommy? sorry. mommy? Ee (affectionately not sexually, yet or actually you never know with Jake Lockley hah)

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so much xxx