#coffee can’t fix this one lads

[alwaysshallow]

I’m absolutely IN LOVE with your writing, you’re so so talented and I can’t believe I’m so blessed to be able to read it! (I’m in love with coffee at midnight)

Anyway, now that I’m done fan-girling, time for some more! Could I please ask for something super soft with Johnny/Soap? Maybe he comes home and its around Christmas time and despite him being on deployment he still got reader presents? Maybe a cuddle or two 🥹

Don’t worry about writing this if you have too much writing to do, I don’t want to overwhelm you!

-🪐

"He's gonna be home soon, I know it," your mother in law says, the calmness in her eyes evident. She smiles at you, reassuringly caressing your arm; it helps, but you still can't quite get the peace you want.

You anxiously play with your fingers. Johnny was supposed to be there almost two hours ago, back from deployment. You're waiting for him to start everything. Presents are under the tree, meal on the table, still warm.

It doesn't even matter that he told you there might be some problems on the road since it was snowy, your head is full with bad thoughts what could possibly happen. The way his phone is unreachable is also troublesome, this man is always on his phone and has it around his ass. Either to play Candy Crush or text with you absolutely innappriopate things whenever he can, off or on the field, but he always has it.

You shake your head, as if it would make the dark scenarios go away. It's Christmas, nothing can possibly happen to him, right?

"Hope everyone's been good this year," you hear from the front door, the moment you decorated last cupcake. This familiar, warm voice makes you smile immediately, so you slowly walk towards the hallway even if you want to rush there; his family comes first, especially the cousins, little ones that run for their life to see him.

You love this view. You love seeing him being adored, wanted in every room possible. He's like a star, absolutely everywhere, no exceptions. Sometimes, it irritates you (especially his arrogant attiude), but most of the times, you smile. Just like you do now.

"And my favorite," he grins at you, opening his arms, and you melt into him, just like a marshmellow.

For a few seconds, it's just silence between you two, nothing except a tight hug and his close embrace that you could be in your entire life, if you'd have a choice. Then, with his arms still wrapped around you, he kisses your face a couple of times, not even ashamed a little bit about the crowd.

John MacTavish in a nutshell.

"Had me worried for a minute," you murmur, fixing his messy mohawk from the snow outside; Scot tilts his head with a slightly amused look.

"Worried about a lad like me? No way, love." He bites your ear playfully, at which you roll your eyes. "Had to collect some... thingies, on the way home."

"Thingies?" you raise your eyebrow, tilting your head to the side, simply curious what he has on mind. He nods, then points to his duffel bag, right by the door.

"Thingies. Gifts, for ye. Because you took care of the fam," he whispers, squeezing your waist tighter. You barely contain yourself from shrieking at this—this man does not have a hair of knowledge how strong he is. "And who's gonna take care of my favorite person on Earth, if not me?"

"Johnny, I—"

He interrupts your monologue before it even starts by kissing you again; and you have nothing to say afterwards. There's just a faint smile on your lips, and he's more than pleased that he actually managed to silence you.

"Merry Christmas, my love."

[kezzzx]

Just a little Colm drabble for @aphroditestummyrolls from my fic Just A Few More Minutes, which in turn is based on their fic Five More Minutes.

It’s around midday when Colm decides to head back to the house. With his long discarded shirt, he wipes the sweat from his brow, already thinking of his shaded kitchen and some welcome coolness. Even after all the time he’s lived here, the heat of summers in Novyi Zem always catches him by surprise. His work in the jurda fields would be going a lot quicker if Jesper were helping him, but with the image of his son and his young merchant stepping off the boat with bags under their eyes as big as the cases they carried firmly etched in his mind, Colm can’t bring himself to blame them.

Oh, he’s so glad that they finally managed to sleep.

He’s thinking of them still as he makes his way along the familiar path from the fields to the farmhouse. One night of good sleep is surely not enough to completely erase those dark circles from under their eyes, but it’s a step in the right direction. He wonders if they’re up and about, perhaps drinking coffee and eating an extremely late breakfast in the kitchen, or if they’re still asleep, tangled together in bed as Colm had left them this morning.

Whistling a little Kaelish tune, he steps into the house. There’s no sign of either of the lads downstairs, so he heads to the kitchen to fix himself some lunch and a cold drink. He’ll just make a quick sandwich and then knock on their door, he thinks to himself. It’s as he’s pulling out various ingredients and placing them on the kitchen counter that he hears it.

The creak of bedsprings.

He thinks for a moment that his arrival back at the house has roused them, and they’re just moving around getting ready for the day, dragging their weary bodies from their bed and fishing out fresh clothes. But no. This is decidedly not that.

He pauses in his sandwich-making efforts, flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. And, look, he’s not stupid. He’s lived a full life. He knows they’re in a relationship, knows the kind of things people in relationships get up to (even if he disagrees with their rather unofficial courtship, but that’s a separate matter). But knowing something and hearing it first hand are two very different things.

Colm’s not sure anything could have prepared him for the slightly muffled sounds coming from his son’s bedroom, and especially not the repeated chant of his son’s name, breathless and wanting. For all the ways Wylan could usually be described as quiet, subdued, even, it seems that it does not apply in this scenario.

Saints, he’s going to have to talk to Jesper later, ask them to keep it down. Best not do it when his young councilman is around, the poor lad would probably expire on the spot.

Ears still burning, Colm grabs some bread and a chunk of cheese and leaves the house before he can hear any more.

He’ll come back later.

[saywhatjessie]

Pre-Madonna

Day sixteen of the Advent calendar! Using this list. Day 16: Road Trip Fandom: Ted Lasso - Pairing: RoyJamie 1.9k[Ao3]

Roy would never do something as undignified as engage in a slap fight over who can control the aux cord on a road trip. Which is why he declared in no uncertain terms that Jamie was not to touch the music when they drive up to Manchester.

Jamie snorted. “I don’t think you want to play this game with me, grandad.”

“It’s not a game – it’s an executive order. I’m not listening to whatever club beat garbage you listen to for four fucking hours.”

Jamie looked back at him, offended. “‘club beat garbage’? Do you not know what I listen to?”

“Sure I do! You put it on in the kitchen when I’m making breakfast.”

“That’s not my music! That’s your ancient radio! There’s not even an aux port on that thing. That’s just BBC1!”

Roy turned to look at him incredulously. “But you always know all the words!”

“Yeah, because I’m a hip young lad who has a general lust for life!” Jamie complained. “I know a lot of songs! That doesn’t mean that’s what I normally listen to.”

Roy frowned. “So what do you normally listen to?”

Jamie looked genuinely aggrieved at his revelation. Like it was Roy’s fault Jamie just knew pop music. If it weren’t for Phoebe, Roy wouldn’t know any music after 2010. Why would Roy think Jamie would know it if he didn’t like it?

He made a displeased sound in his throat and grabbed for Roy’s phone.

“No!” Roy growled, swiping with one hand to grab the phone back. Jamie yanked it out of his reach. “This is literally the opposite of what I said, Tartt!”

“Well apparently you don’t know what I listen to which means either I don’t share enough or you don’t pay attention to me.” Jamie huffed. “One of us is a shitty boyfriend so we’re fixing this now.”

Roy growled again but, seeing as he refused to get in a slap fight, pulled his hand back.

“We’re not bad boyfriends,” Roy grumbled. “You share with me plenty. And I pay attention.”

Roy could see Jamie lift an eyebrow in his peripheral vision.

“What’s my coffee order?” Jamie quizzed.

“You’re not allowed coffee with your training. Caffeine’s too harsh on your system”

“Obviously,” Jamie rolled his eyes. “I mean when I have the option like during the off season or on holiday.”

Roy hummed. “Iced ristretto macchiato with oat milk. And whatever stupid fucking seasonal flavoring they have.”

Jamie hummed happily, in confirmation and praise. Roy smirked.

“Favorite ice cream?”

“Salted caramel.”

“Soup?”

“Split pea because you’re a fucking weirdo.”

“Nandos order?”

“Why are all of these about food?”

“Cuz I’m off training for a few days and I’m excited to feel joy when I eat again.”

“Fine. Fuck. Grilled chicken wrap with paella and a ceasar salad.”

Jamie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “God, babe, you’re obsessed with me. Such a turn on.”

“Fuck you.”

“Okay pull over.”

Roy snorted, rolling his eyes, but he put his hand on the center console for Jamie to take. Jamie did so without hesitation.

“Flat white, by the way,” Jamie said and at Roy’s inquisitive grunt followed up with “Your coffee order. Ice cream is coffee and butter pecan. Soup is matzah ball, obviously. And you’re banned from Nandos.”

“I’m not banned,” Roy grumbled. “I’ve just been advised to not return.”

Jamie laughed, lifting Roy’s hand to kiss his knuckles.

“I know, grandad,” he stared at him sappily for another moment before turning his attention back to Roy’s phone. “We’re still listening to my music, though.”

Roy growled and Jamie dug his fingernail into Roy’s finger.

“Shut up,” Jamie said, idly. “I’m also favoriting my playlist on your Spotify account so you can listen to it when you’re not with me. Study my tastes, like.”

“You can’t give me fucking boyfriend homework.”

“Just did, bitch!” Jamie grinned. “You’ll like it, trust me.”

Roy growled again but squeezed Jamie’s hand, letting it happen.

It’s not that he was against learning things about Jamie – and maybe he felt a little guilty assuming things about him — but Roy, as stoic as he was to most people, was shit at hiding his emotions from the people who knew him. If he didn’t like Jamie’s music, it would show on his face, and he didn’t want to hurt Jamie’s feelings when he was sharing with him.

Which meant the surprise he felt when Jamie’s head started bopping to the opening chords of Billy Joel’s “It’s Still Rock and Roll To Me” was loud and clear across his face.

“Are you fucking with me?” Roy asked.

Jamie rolled his eyes before he started singing along. He knew all the words.

Jamie frowned but his head also bopped along. Billy Joel wasn’t that surprising. Pretty standardly popular.

As was the Queen song that came on after. Being a Queen fan just meant being a human.

But then there was the Kinks and The Who and Blue Oyster Cult. A bunch of American hair bands that were past their prime before Roy had been born.

At the third Fleetwood Mac song, Roy couldn’t take it anymore.

“There’s no way this is your go-to playlist. Are you trying to impress me?”

“I can show you my Spotify Wrapped, old man: Fleetwood Mac’s my top artist this year.” He air drummed on the dashboard with his one hand that wasn’t holding Roy’s. “Stevie Nicks was the first woman to be entered into the Rock and Roll hall of fame twice. And you say female artists before Madonna didn’t have to work hard.”

Roy grunted again, introspective.

“I guess I should have known,” Roy said after a while, over Bowie singing “Suffragette City.” “After the Rolling Stones comment when you called me Keith Richards.”

“Okay, so you do pay attention,” Jamie grinned. “You’re just too thick to make connections.”

“Fuck off,” Roy said. “You sing along to Taylor Swift on the radio, that’s not exactly The Ramones.”

“Listen, it ain’t my fault I know ‘Shake it Off’: it’s been playing in stadiums for as long as I’ve been in the premier league.”

Roy hummed in allowance. “Yeah, that song has been fucking everywhere,” he said. “I know it because of Phoebe.”

“Young impressionable child, I get it,” Jamie agreed. “I heard Keeley’s been setting her straight, though.”

Roy made a noise in his throat. “She has been listening to more Led Zeppelin.”

“That’s my girl.” Jamie grinned

Roy smiled back.

Jamie let his playlist run for the first two hours of the drive, letting go of Roy’s hand so he could rock out properly.. All of it was music Roy was vaguely familiar with but not something Roy would seek out to listen to himself.

He really should have guessed at Jamie’s taste considering his style. His stupid hair and his denim rhinestones and his dangly earring is all very glam rock. 

“Was it Georgie? Was she a classic rock fan?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jamie grinned, wiggling a bit as he played air guitar. “Mum was a groupie in her day. All she wanted to do was fuck Thom Yorke.”

“Ah, so at least you come by your groupie status honestly.”

“Fuck off, old man, I don’t even like you,” Jamie grinned. “But it is your turn for music.”

“Hm?”

“Yeah, mate, I shared my music with you so now you have to share with me.”

“I was gonna play my music first!”

“Were you?” Jamie asked. “Or were you gonna put on a random radio station that you didn’t mind us talking over?”

Roy grunted. That had been what he’d been planning on doing. Because he would have been irritated if Jamie talked over music he liked and also he can’t listen to the music he liked without singing along. And he didn’t want Jamie to make fun of him for that.

But Jamie had shared so, yeah, it was fucking Roy’s turn.

He held out his hand for his phone and Jamie placed it in his palm, his face smug.

Roy rolled his eyes and navigated to his music library, picking his favorite saved playlist.

Immediately, the strings that open up “One Day More” from Les Miserables filled the car.

Jamie started before grinning, sitting up further in his seat.

“Royo, is this–”

“Shh,” Roy warned. “You’re not talking over my cue.”

“What–”

“One day more,” Roy sang. “Another day another destiny. This never ending road to calvary. These men who seem to know my crimes will surely come a second time. One day more

“I did not live until today”

Jamie cackled as Roy seamlessly switched to the next part. Even more so when he began straining his already pathetic upper register to sing the women’s parts.

But he didn’t interrupt. And he didn’t try to talk to Roy over the music.

When the song ended, he paused the playlist to clap. Roy smiled, a little pleased, even while his ears turned red in a blush.

“So this is big man Roy Kent?” Jamie asked, grinning. “Secret West End aficionado?”

“Fuck off,” Roy scowled. “I thought we were sharing.”

“We are! And I love this about you!” Jamie said, reaching over to rub a comforting hand over Roy’s thigh. “Was your mum into showtunes.””

Roy huffed, covering Jamie’s hand with his own. “Grandad. He showed me Fiddler when I first started learning what it was like to be Jewish. Always told me that Jewish people invented musical theater and it doesn’t matter how big of an athlete I ever got, I was never to be ashamed of that.”

“Nothing to be ashamed of, mate.” He flipped his hand over to lace his fingers with Roy’s again. “Press play. And when we get to mummy’s we can watch your favorite.”

Fuck, Roy loved him.

They cycled through some Broadway classics, Jamie pausing the music after the song was over to ask about the show. He was interested in Sweeney Todd: thought the eating people bit was mad. He really liked the music from Rent (no surprise there) and he was blown away by Six.

“This sounds new!” Jamie said. “This is like poppy and shit!”

“It’s a feminine centric re-telling of the history of Henry VIII’s wives.”

“And it fucks!” Jamie said. He shimmied his shoulders. “Get it, Anne Boleyn!”

Roy laughed, not binding Jamie attempting to sing along to this one. He’d never learned all the words, but it was fun to see Jamie have fun.

By the time they pulled up to Georgie’s, the Christmas lights in City sky blue, Jamie had convinced himself they absolutely had to watch Singing in the Rain. 

“Roy, you get the dopiest smile on your face when one of those songs come on,” he told him. “We’re watching it.”

Jamie moved to get out of the passenger seat but Roy pulled him back,

Jamie tilted his head at him and Roy pulled him into a kiss. Jamie hummed into the kiss, reaching up to cup Roy’s face and kiss him back.

He pulled back with a final peck. “What was that for?”

“For sharing with me.” Roy shrugged. “Made the drive go by quick.”

“Mmm,” Jamie agreed. “Softy.”

Roy snorted, pulling away and opening the door. “And now I’m not kissing you for the entire time we’re in Manchester.”

“No, wait, Roy!” Jamie whined, scrambling out of his own door. “That’s not fair!”

Roy laughed, going around to the boot to grab his luggage while Jamie whined. He’d definitely kiss him goodnight and they both knew it.

But Jamie could beg if he wanted.

[cyberprincehavoc]

Testimony

(Read it in Portuguese here)

See the man coming up the street. An older man, tall, thin, wearing the same crumpled-up shirt from last week. See the cracks in his face, the expression lines firmly pointed down on the corners of his mouth, the all-white hair under his cap, anointed by sweat and followed by the clink of tin cans on the bag he carries over one shoulder.

He murmurs to himself. There’s no way, by the way things are going, there’s no way.

I’m going down the street at this moment, hands in my pockets.

Look, says he, I’ve voted for him all my life. I’ve voted since I was eighteen, and I’ve never seen one of these men make life better for us. I’ve voted for- for- the one before Figueiredo I can’t remember, but there was Figueiredo, and then José Sarney, then Fernando Henrique, the Luiz Inácio, then the woman, Luiz Inácio again, then Temer, and now this guy!

He gesticulated with his hands up, I followed them with my eyes, looking for the man he was talking about.

There’s no work on the field, and then you come here to the city, and what do you find? Look here lad, I’m collecting cans because I don’t want to depend on others. I also want to have my own money; I’ve had my own money for 65 years and never saw something like this.

I assented in silence, he gesticulated again, this time for the world at large.

Who makes this all better?

We do, I said, uncertainly.

He agreed. The people, right? All of us together, getting the things and… He finished the phrase with a gesture. Let me tell you, I’m 65 years old, my son brought me from Piracicaba, do you know where that is? Yes, and there were jobs there, do you see? You could walk on the street and find an odd job and make enough for a cup of coffee at the bakery. Here in this city? It’s too big. There’s too many people, there ain’t no jobs, and I have to collect cans.

He shook the cans on his shoulders, indignant.

My son brought me here. I didn’t want to come, I wanted to stay in Piracicaba, I was raised there, why would I come here? But then he brought me and said “no, you will come”, and where would I live? So I came, but I didn’t want to. Then I arrived here and he- he made another gesture, something bad had happened.

He fooled me, can you believe that? There’s him and his sister, who’s over there in Piracicaba, but he doesn’t like like me no sir. Him and his wife, they brought me here to throw me here in this huge city, where there’s no odd jobs, there’s no way to get money. My daughter who’s still in Piracicaba, now I gotta go back there, but how? I don’t have the money to pay the transport of my things.

By the way he talked, this probably wasn’t the only obstacle. I assented in silence again and said something in agreement.

This world is lost.

He thought a little more.

There’s always been that. This thing of son turning against father and father turning against son, they say it’s a new thing but I don’t think so, there’s always been that. But it looks like things are getting worse with this man. Do you think he can fix things?

I shook my head. Not him.

I’ve never seen something like this. It seems worse than ever. There was Figueiredo, and then Sarney, I don’t remember much of it, there was Itamar right? With the Real Plan, I liked him. Fernando Henrique held it together pretty well; things were good in his time. And there was Luiz Inácio, who let go a bit of the reins but things were also good back then. And now there’s this man.

He threw a hand forward like he was throwing something invisible.

They stay there and we stay here, it’s like that. Do you think things will get better, lad?

I thought a bit, and I said that yes, someday. I didn’t have the heart to say that he wouldn’t get to see it, but by his sigh and his gesture, he knew.

He went back to walking up the street, saying something about change. I got inside my building, the doorwoman commented about how he looked like he needed to vent.

With this new retirement law… we won’t get to retire; she said in her northeastern accent.

I agreed and said goodbye after a couple of seconds in silence.

At home, I noticed I hadn’t asked for his name.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Not One of Many - Chapter Twenty Seven.

Thanks to those still showing interest and interactions on this, but lamentably as of now the story is on hold as I need to finish it, and I’m just not feeling motivated to write at the moment. I’ve had too many knocks, too much take, take, take from readers and not enough feedback (but I do see those who have remained loyal in that respect. I see you and appreciate you hugely) which has resulted in me basically losing my creative drive. 

I did always say this would happen... content creators do warn people that lack of interaction causes us to lose our love of writing, so here I am now, living proof of that. The only people who should feel bad about that are those who don’t bother interacting, because it’s your fault. I’m not mincing my words or being gracious in the face of it any longer. Selfishness can only be tolerated for so long, and I’ve really had my fill of it. 

Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,358

Warnings - 18+ content, adult audience only. Minors DNI!

“She sprayed his car? Jesus Christ, I bet he was bloody livid!”  

Shaking her head, Amira looked a picture of shocked, she and Mimi being brought up to speed on Talia’s most recent antics, Beth deciding to take up her offer for the three of them to meet up. It had been a relaxing day, her most recent articles finished and submitted, the housekeeper cleaning in preparation for her parents, grandmother and Alfie’s mum to visit them for dinner later that evening, and the man himself currently with Steve, playing a few games of squash.

“Oh, he most certainly was. He got it fixed the day after, but that isn’t the point,” Beth began, Mimi quick to pipe up.

“It’s that she’s continuing to do it in the first place, and as yet, you can’t even prove any of it is coming from her!”

“Thus nixing your plan to file a restraining order,” Amira sighed. “I suppose in that way, she actually is quite clever, because she knows you’ll need proof of identity to facilitate such. Can’t file a restraining order without concrete evidence detailing the person whom you wish to restrain”

“You seem very up on all of this, miss legal mind?” Mimi questioned, Amira’s eyes widening.

“When I was eighteen, I had a stalker, too. Some guy who’d seen my pictures in the lad’s mags and took a bit too much of a shine to me. It was easy for me, though, because he wasn’t threatening me. He just followed me everywhere I went as soon as he’d managed to find out where I lived. He was a right creep, but it meant I could take photographs and keep a diary of whenever I spotted him. It was plentiful evidence in keeping him away from me once I got in touch with the police.”  

“Gosh, I didn’t realise that. It’s spooky, though, isn’t it? When you know you’re being followed,” Beth empathised, Amira nodding knowingly. “I mean, she could be watching me right now, for all I know.”

She was then entertained greatly by Amira’s defiance, holding up both middle fingers and waving her arms around, muttering ‘bugger off, you bitch!’ as she did it. She laughed at herself, placing her hand atop Beth’s. “You seem to not be letting it rattle you, though, and that’s good!”

Beth smiled, stroking the side of her finger with her thumb before lifting her coffee cup to her lips again, giving the burning hot cappuccino a cautionary blow. “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t, but I’m trying not to let it get me down too much. I have enough on my mind as it is, I’m meeting Alfie’s mum for the first time tonight, and he my parents and nan as well.”

Amira’s eyebrows rose significantly. “Not cooking, are you? Sarra will be all over you like a rash!”

Beth laughed immediately. “Yes, Alfie told me all about the roast dinner fiasco, and the half a bottle of vodka that followed it, so no, we have caterers coming in.”

She shook her head, her and Mimi exchanging knowing laughter, remembering it well. “Mimi had only just moved in at the time as well, Sarra giving her the once over and huffing ‘another bloody shiksa, Alf?’ at him before coming to bother me and my roast lamb.”  

Mimi threw her head back, clapping with entertainment. “I’m laughing now, but she was scary!” she then corrected herself quickly, realising it was probably not what Beth wanted to hear. “I mean, she is a lovely lady, very quiet and polite, but she has this fierceness beneath her exterior, a bit like Alfie, except she doesn’t really blow her stack as monumentally as her son can.”

“Nah, Mims is right. Sarra is nice. She’ll adore you the second she finds out you’re Jewish, so you have that going for you. Oh and don’t wear anything too low cut, because she will comment on your boobs. Or lack of them, as the case was with me.” She snorted into her hand, whacking Mimi on the thigh when she began to giggle loudly. “It wasn’t funny!”

“Then why are you pissing yourself?” she cried, slapping her in return. “Oh, I wish I could have been there to see it! She told Amira that she had boobies like two aspirin on an ironing board!”  

Beth gasped, her eyes widening. “That’s a bit personal!”

Amira leaned closer, raising an elegantly shaped eyebrow. “The more Chablis she drinks, the looser her tongue gets.”  

“But overall, a nice lady, right?” Beth quipped, cocking her head slightly to the side, her face escalating the girl’s laughter. They reassured her that she was, but did have her little quirks about her. Alfie had confirmed such, mentioning in the past that she was a very relaxed woman, but sometimes, did make the odd sassy comment. Either way, Beth knew she’d be nervous regardless, finishing her coffee morning with the girls and then heading for a massage, meeting Oliver for lunch before she arrived home, finding a glorious sight asleep on the sofa, a freshly showered Alfie, dressed in just a low-slung pair of black sweats.  

“Well, ain’t that a nice wake up?” he murmured sleepily, feeling Beth circling one of his nipples with her tongue, her fingers tickling over his abs.  

She grinned, kissing her way to his mouth. “Give me a few minutes and it’ll be even nicer.”

His mouth tilted up, chuckling. “Oh?”

“Mmm.” Her confirmation preceded a scorching kiss, her hand grasping his hardening cock, massaging his shaft through the confines of cloth. “There it is, just what I was looking for.” she purred, her mouth hungry at the side of his neck before it trailed down, her hands tugging at the elastic waist of his sweats, pulling them from him before she moved to kneel between his thighs, her tongue running up over the line of hair between his pubes and navel a few times, her hand continuing to massage his rapidly thickening erection.  

When her mouth finally met the silken skin encasing such heated steel, he groaned deeply, her eyes meeting his as she made him vanish into her mouth, sucking him softly to begin with, her lips gradually adding the kind of pressure that had the taut muscles of his thighs dancing beneath the skin. “Bloody hell, darlin’. You always look so fucking pretty with a mouthful of cock.”  

She slid her mouth back up in slow ascension, spitting a mouthful of saliva onto his erection, licking the very tip of it, his lust burning at such a sight. “Yes, you’ve mentioned that once or twice.” Winking, she took him into her throat again, steadily working her lips in a seductive drag over his shaft, her nails raking over his chest.

He was transported to ecstasy rapidly, chest rising and falling faster as her mouth sped up, his gritty groan arrowing right to her cunt, her walls opening, stinging with want. While she kept him happy with her mouth, she managed to undress herself with her free hand, pulling and shimmying out of her dress, undoing the ribbon tie of her thong and unhooking her bra, her hand then pushing between her legs to caress her wetness, elegant fingers stroking over her clit as she moaned around his cock.  

He looked down at the sight, his heart throbbing, arousal charging through him as he watched her touching herself, her soft moans vibrating along his shaft, her eyes never leaving his. The combined ministrations of her lips tightening, tongue pressing and hand stroking on him had his veins blazing, Beth stopping to trail her tongue in long, seductive licks over the very head of his hardness, purring seductively.

“Want me to fuck you yet, big fella?” He was out from under her in a second, pushing her face down onto the sofa, yanking her hips up to plunge into her.

“Nah, but you will lie there and take it while I rail the life out of you, treacle.” The clutch at the back of her neck was hard, imposing, forcing her down as he daggered her insides with rapacious thrusts, her wail filling the space along with the sound of his flesh smacking against hers, their sex utterly brutal, a hundred percent primally charged.

He was completely barbaric with her, escalating her cries by spanking her bum hard, his hand shifting to her hair, grasping it at the roots and flexing his fingers in tug, lifting her head up, creating a warm throb of delicious pain at her scalp, his cock battering her walls. “Like it like this, don’t you, baby beast, ay? When I fuck you hard and nasty?”

“Don’t you dare fucking stop, oh god, yes!” she exclaimed, a raspy moan leaving her lips as she felt her insides decimated so thoroughly, she knew she’d likely have issues sitting down later.  

He spanked her a few more times, his hand pulling at her hair harder. “Fuckin’ dirty girl, you take my cock better than anyone.”  

His words of praise had fire licking her veins, tingles shooting through her spine as she felt the rising tide of heat pulsing from her trembling walls, shattering into nirvana shortly before his own fervid culmination had him groaning out each pulse, cock spurting thick, hot ropes of release deeply within her fluttering cunt. They lay in an entanglement of limbs in the wake of it, stroking one another, Beth departing with a kiss to go and have a bath before getting ready.

She’d been rendered so blissfully cock drunk by Alfie that she didn’t feel much in the way of nerves as she enjoyed her bath before slowly getting ready, curling her hair into loose waves and applying eyeliner and false lashes, her lips nude but a smear of balm. When it came to choosing an outfit, though, Amira’s words playing heavily on her mind, she became a little unglued.  

“Low cut, low cut, high necked, but it’s too hot, oh, lord,” she sighed, moving onto maxi dresses. Most of those were too low. Finally, she came across a floral patterned one that covered her chest without stifling her, the floaty fabric light enough to keep her cool. Now, if only her insides were fixable by such means. For that, she had wine, though, entering the kitchen and pouring herself a glass before going outside to keep out of the caterer's way, finding Alfie playing with Cyril.

“Look at your mum, Cyril, don’t she look lovely!” Her heart fluttered at his cute words; Cyril unmoved completely as he yanked on the end of his rope toy.  

She smiled, glad he approved. “Thanks, boo. Shouldn’t you be getting ready, though?”

“Yeah, I’ll go up in a bit. Only need ten minutes.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Our guests will be arriving in just under fifteen.”

“Blimey!” That did the trick, Alfie leaving Cyril to it, Beth deciding to take over.  

“No, leave it, leave,” she told the dog, Cyril dropping the rope obediently. She then threw it across the garden, the gargantuan beast charging in the cutest lollop she’d ever witnessed, like a hench spring lamb, picking up his rope and dutifully trotting back to drop it at her feet. “Just a few more, and then I have to go in and resume panicking.”  

A couple more throws and Beth re-entered the house, Cyril following her call when he made a beeline for the kitchen, coming with her into the lounge and sitting down in his plush bed, Beth noticing a lovely tray of varied little finger foods lined up. Chicken satay, mini beef wellingtons, smoked salmon blinis, and oh god, there went the door.  

“Baba!” her father greeted her with warmly, giving her one of his usual bone crunching hugs. “What a fantastic pile of bricks this is, wow! Oh, and there’s a dog! Is he friendly?”  

“Very much so,” Beth confirmed, kissing her mother. “His name is Cyril.” While her father made friends, delighted by the fact he asked for his paw to shake and Cyril gave it up immediately, she opened her arms to her darling grandmother, who could hardly keep her eyes in her head. “Hi, bubbe.”

“Is this one of the Queen’s residences, love?” she joked, kissing her granddaughter’s cheek as she entered, her mouth dropping. “Oh, your grandfather would plotz. Look at it!”

“I think you’re doing a good enough job of that for the both of you,” Beth confirmed, Alfie arriving with them. After all introductions were given, they led Beth’s family on the grand tour of the house, Alfie excusing himself halfway round to answer the door to his mother. Once the tour was done, they headed back down to the lounge, Beth dutifully taking her bubbe’s arm to help her on the stairs, entering the lounge to see Alfie, and his older, female double standing there waiting for him.  

“Mum, this is Beth,” he began, Sarra reaching for her hands.  

“Oh, you’re so lovely, look at this dress, and your makeup!” she announced, narrowing her eyes a touch and cocking her head, as if she was trying to work something out. “Alfie, she looks Jewish. Is she Jewish?”  

A little ripple of laughter went around the room, Alfie beginning to nod. “Yeah, mum. She is.”

“Oh! Oh!” she began, pulling Beth into a hug, kissing her cheek. “Finally!” She then went to her son, bundling him in a hug. “Mazel tof, Alf. I’m so flippin’ happy! Have you been waiting for this as much as I have, too?” she then asked Beth’s family, coming to shake hands and give kisses of introduction.

“We have, yes,” Beth’s mum began. “I’m Helen, by the way. My husband John and my mother, Miriam.”  

“Sarra, I’m thrilled to meet you all. Well, I think this calls for wine!” Beth made her way to the kitchen in order to furnish their guests with their drink's choices, breathing a little sigh of relief. All was going well thus far. That was, until they sat down to eat, her father’s choice of question causing her a little flutter in her chest. Of course, she knew such would likely be coming, though. She just hadn’t anticipated for it to be right away.

“So, Alfie. I have to ask, just as any father would. What was the deal with you prior to your relationship with my daughter, seeing three women at once? Not exactly a conventional set up,” he asked, his daughter ceasing chewing for a second, Alfie noticing and patting her hand.

“You’d be right to observe that, John, because it was,” he began, sipping his water. “The deal was simple; I had three girlfriends because I could. I was greedy in that respect, and I liked it, the nature of a polyamorous homelife, and it suited me very well, until it didn’t. Until I met your daughter and realised that I’d found everything I’d been searching for in one woman, rather than little pieces in three or more. That’s what made me change my stance, realising that she was the perfect woman for me and because she wouldn’t budge on my asking her to move in and be one of three, I had to be the one to change my life to accommodate her. She was more than worth it.”

John nodded, clearing his throat. “And forgive me, but what’s to stop you from enjoying it again and thus hurting my daughter in the process?”

He received a shoe in the ankle from his wife, and a sharp look from both Beth and Sarra for such a comment.  

“Because everything I’ve ever wanted is sitting right here beside me,” Alfie told him cordially. If it wasn’t Beth’s father, he’d have likely made some sarcastic barb over whether or not he’d been listening, but out of respect, he held it back. Before their arrival, he’d also put himself into John’s shoes as well, preparing for the line of questioning he knew he could possibly face, thinking how he’d react should it be his own daughter in question. He didn’t blame John at all for seeking answers.

“Alfie, I have to say, this wine is absolutely beautiful,” Helen piped up, wanting to move the conversation along. “I notice from the bottle it’s from Palermo? We had a beautiful holiday out there when Beth was nine, gorgeous place, absolutely stunning.”

“Yeah, yeah I couldn’t agree more, Helen,” he began, relieved. “It’s from a vineyard my business partner and I are considering buying at present, so I should think I’ll be heading out there again before the winter for a little holiday with Beth, once London has become all rainy and miserable.”

“You’ll be back before Hannukah, though, yes?” her grandmother asked, Alfie reaching to stroke her hand affectionately.  

“Oh, absolutely. The Solomons’ make a bloody big deal of Hannukah, bubbe, don’t you worry about that, yeah?” He kissed her hand, Miriam beaming, loving that he’d referred to her as bubbe. She loved everyone to call her that, even to the boy who brought her paper from the local shop, she was bubbe.  

“A vineyard, eh? Blimey, so that brings up your business portfolio by another notch, then,” John spoke, pacified nicely by the answer he’d received, seeing for himself quite clearly how the young man sitting across from him truly adored his daughter. “So, tell me about some of your other ventures?”

Alfie did, in turn asking him about his own career, never hogging the spotlight of conversation as he worked hard to make sure everyone was included, finding Beth’s family to be just as polite and charming as her. She definitely came from good, Jewish stock.  

“I’m thrilled it all went well, and thank you so much for handling dad’s questions about your former relationship dynamic as well as you did,” Beth said later that evening, aiming for the red ball in the middle pocket, just she and Alfie, dressed in casual, comfy clothes after taking a bath together, enjoying the quiet of the house over a bottle of Merlot and a game of pool.  

Alfie grinned, stopping to scratch a nearby Cyril on the head before chalking his cue. “Well, my darlin’, I weren’t about to be rude to the man, absolutely not. Especially when before he even got here, right, I put myself in his shoes for a moment, thought about it as if it were my daughter’s boyfriend I was meeting for the first time, and he’d been with multiple women at once. Gave me a bit of perspective, it did, because I have to admit, I’d have exactly the same concerns. I know that makes me sound a bit hypocritical an’ all, but you know, it’s different with offspring, ain’t it?”

Beth watched him take his shot, biting the corner of her lip slowly, reaching for her wine. “What’s that dreamy look all about, Bethany?”

“Nothing,” she blurted, shaking herself from her daze.  

He wasn’t convinced. “Come on, baby beast. Out with it.”

She laughed softly through her nose, placing her wine down again. “I was just imagining you as a dad. It’s much too soon for us to even begin thinking about that!”

He chuckled, nodding. “I’ll bloody say!” taking his shot, he hissed a curse at missing, Beth bouncing with triumph when he set her up for a very easy corner pocket shot she didn’t miss. “I mean, if it happened then I wouldn’t be unwelcoming to it, but as far as planning goes, I dunno, a year or two? Have some time for us to just enjoy it being the two of us and the dog, yeah?”  

“Are you happy being mummy’s little boy, Cyril?” Beth cooed, crouching to rub his ears. “Yes, I think he likes being an only child.” she confirmed to Alfie, looking back at the table. “A year or two sounds great as well.”

Their families meeting, and now the very simple and easy discussion of when they would start one for themselves. It truly was a lovely way to round of what had been a fantastic day.  

[hummingbird-of-light]

Against All Odds

Part 189

McCoy

McCoy found his sister in the pool after his chat with their mother. He had wanted a swim. At home he could use the pool any time he wanted unlike at the school when a teacher or lifeguard had to be present. He dove in and raced Leah down the pool and back.

“I won.”

“No you didn’t,” McCoy protested.

“Yes I did.”

“Well, maybe I won’t tell you what I found out then.”

McCoy stuck his tongue out at Leah. He ducked underwater when Leah tried to splash him. He swam deeper and came up behind her. Leah spun around to try and splash him again. McCoy hauled himself up on the edge of the pool and sat.

“What did you find out?” Leah finally asked.

“I asked Mother if you were engaged.”

“What!?” Leah cried. “What happened to discreet?” Leah laughed.

McCoy shrugged. “Why not get straight to the point? It saves time. Anyway, they weren’t talking about you.”

“They weren’t?” Leah’s face lit up, and she pulled herself up on the edge next to him.

“Yep. Not you. And you don’t have to worry about that for a while Mother said. Father is still thinking about what I said, and that’s stopped everything else for now.”

Leah was smiling lopsidedly and looking absently across the water.

“So I suppose you could call Robbie,” McCoy said into the silence.

“Who were they talking about then?” Leah asked, finally looking at McCoy again.

“Nope. Mother said it wasn’t any of my business.”

“Lenny…” Leah began to beg, but the pool doors opened behind them.

Spock walked in with Jim. McCoy and Leah both turned at the sound of the door.

“Hey guys,” McCoy greeted them. “Coming in?”

“You know it!” Jim said, pulling his shirt off and stepping to the edge. He dove in.

“Did you join the swim team too Spock?” Leah asked. “I never asked before.”

“No, your highness. You know I don’t prefer the competition of it.”

Leah nodded. Jim splashed up between Leah and where Spock sat dangling his feet in next to her.

“Not bad Jim,” Leah said. He had swum a lap and back.

“I was the best on the team until Leonard joined,” Jim beamed.

“That so?” Leah cocked an eyebrow.

McCoy concealed a grin. He knew where Leah was going and how most days she was faster than him. He glanced across at Spock behind Leah’s back. He saw the amusement secretly dancing in Spock’s eyes.

“Want to race?” Leah asked.

“Sure,” Jim shrugged in the water as best he could.

Leah pushed herself off the edge and back into the water.

“One lap. You two call it,” she said to McCoy and Spock.

“Alright,” Jim agreed.

They both got set against the wall and McCoy counted off for them.

“Go!” he called.

McCoy couldn’t help but laugh moments later when Jim finished a length behind Leah. The blond sputtered as he slapped his hand on the wall.

“Can’t I beat anyone here?” Jim laughed. “Spock?”

McCoy and Leah laughed louder. Jim looked at them in surprise.

“He’s faster than both of us,” McCoy explained.

McCoy was lounging in his room after dinner when his PADD chirped. He had been wondering how much early Scotty meant to call. He grabbed the PADD quickly, eager to see and hear Scotty.

Part 190

Scotty

They sat at a coffee shop, enjoying some tea and snacks when suddenly Scotty noticed two girls staring at them from another table. They were whispering something, pointing over at the group, but there eyes seemed to be fixed on Scotty.

He tried to ignore it, but failed when one of the girls pushed the other over to the group.

She walked over to them and came to a halt in front of Scotty.

“Uhm… excuse me, but… aren’t ye… the lad from the pictures? The secret boyfriend of Prince Leonard from Georgiares II?”

Scotty sighed on the inside. He had always known that this would happen sooner or later. He had just hoped that Leonard would be with him.

“Leonard… is not my secret boyfriend. We are a couple. And we dinnae have a problem with showing it in public.”

He felt anxious on the inside. What if he said something wrong? What if he was too blunt? Or not blunt enough?

“Oh… okay. But the prince didn’t make it official yet or did he? I mean… are ye really his boyfriend or just a little adventure?”

Scotty swallowed, trying to control the feeling in his stomach. Why would he have to make it public for it to be real? What was the big deal? It was their privacy!

“Look, lassie, we’re trying to spend some private time together here. Why don’t ye stop interrogating my friend and give him some space?”

Margory. She glared at the other girl who was startled by it. Well… Margory could look quite intimidating.

“O-of course. I’m sorry.”

The girl turned around and quickly moved back over to her friend. They instantly started to whisper again.

“What’s wrong Scotty? Ye never take people talking to ye like that kindly? Why didn’t ye stand up to her?” Margory demanded to know.

It was true. Scotty had always been the one to argue if someone tried to attack him. But now… it was different. Whatever he said could inflict damage to Leonard and his family. He… had to be more controlled.

Margory could see how hard this was on him, so she just sighed.

“Never mind. Let’s finish tea and get shopping.”

The rest of the day was okay. Scotty still knew that people were staring and it drove him nuts. Leonard wasn’t even with him and still he didn’t have any privacy.

After an early dinner he went straight up to his room. He had to talk to Leonard about this. He had to know what he could say or couldn’t. And he had to know more about Leah and the engagement.

Scotty was relieved to see his love smiling at him when the prince answered the call.

“Hello mo gràdh,” he greeted him softly with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He was exhausted from the day.

[thecreaturecrossroads]

Pick  one  of  your  muses . Fill  in  the  questions/statements  as  if  you were  your  muse  in  a  new  post Tag  five  people  to  do  this  meme   

Swiped from: someone else TAGGING: @nykrose @magioffire @bastard-basket @distoretion @jiaolong-rp

1. What  is  your  name ? Cairi

2. What  is  your  real  name ? I’m nae giving ye my full name. Nor me witch name.

3. Do  you  know  why  you  were  called  that ? Because me Ma wanted tae name me that.  

4.  Are  you  single  or  taken ? Single.

5.  Have  any  abilities  or  powers ? Healin Magics mostly. I can cure poison an cleanse the earth and water. I can conjure a wee bit of lightning intae me hands in self defense. An a few other things. Mostly plant related. I can sense poisons too.

6. Stop  being  a  Mary Sue.  Excuse me??

7. What’s  your  eye  color ? Bright Green.   

8. How  about  your  hair  color ? Darker browns but also lighter browns further down.

9. Have  you  any  family  members ? Me Ma, Me Step-dad, Me Brother Connor, me 5 step brothers... various aunts an uncles and cousins. Some niblings. Me Grans. The rest of me clan.

10. Oh ? What  about  pets ? I’ve me Familiar. He’s an Albino Raven I hand raised.

12.  Do  you  have  any  hobbies / activities  you  like  doing ? Baking. Reading. Takin a ramble through the woods fer berries an mushrooms. I also like tae do a wee bit of sewing. Oh! And I can’t ferget Arranging flowers. That’s half me shop.

13. Ever  hurt  anyone  before ? Aye.

14. Ever …. killed  anyone  before ? Aye. What? Ye think I’m some namby pamby pony? I’ve been in some messes, let me tell ye. Actually nae. I’d rather nae get intae it.

15. What  kind  of  animal  are  you ? What do ye think?

16. Name  your  worst  habits. I drum me fingers when I’m stressed. I work meself till I pass out lately.... I drink too much coffee right now. Connor an the other lads tell me i’ve become a wee bit spacey. I can’t think of any other’s at the moment.... Me Gran used tae say I’d argue with a wall...?

18. Gay,  straight,  or  bisexual? I’m... nae sure. Me last lover was non-binary. But the one afore that was very much a man... I know I’m attracted tae Lad an nonbinary folk.... really I’m too busy tae really put much thought tae it.

19. Do  you  go  to  school?  Not anymore. Finished me Witchery schoolin a while ago. Then took a few more years tae really understand curse breakin after that.

20. Do  you  ever  want  to  marry  and  have  kids  one  day ? I... I was hoping I’d have been married already. I was goin tae propose tae me last Lover. But shit hit the fan an now I’m burnin meself out tryin tae fix a mess I did’nae even cause.... I don’nae if it’s in the cards fer me. But t’would be nice tae have someone who thought I was special again...

21. Do  you  have  any  fanboys / fangirls ? ... What now? I guess...? If ye’d call me toxic first Ex a fanboy.

22. What  are  you  most  afraid  of ? I’m nae a fan of spiders. I respect them an let them alone... unless they’re in me house! .... The curse takin everythin from me... like it already is startin tae... I’ve seen how me family line has ended up..

23.  What  do  you  usually  wear ? Somethin comfortable. A Blouse an some pants. Or a plain skirt.

24. Do  you  love  someone ? I still miss me Ex. They were so easy tae love an be around... Until they weren’t.. But I guess I can’t say I love them still...

25. When  was  the  last  time  you  wet  yourself? Excuse me?! What kind of question is that?? I don’t know. When I was 5 maybe?

26. Well,  it’s  not   over  yet! Of course it isn’t.

27. What  class  are  you ? That... is a complicated question. I’m a Princess by blood... but I live in a cottage in the woods. Living off what money I earn through trade of me services an the bounty of me garden an the forest.

28. How  many  friends  do  you  have ? I’ve one I’m still in contact with right now. I had tae give up quite a few when I was relocated here.

29. What  are  your  thoughts  on  pie ?  A good pie is always appreciated.

30. Favorite drink? Stout. Herbal Tea. I make a nice raspberry lemonade in summer.

31. What’s  your  favorite  place ? My garden. A cove I remember from when I was a wee lass. Or the reading nook I’ve set up in one of me windows.

32. Are  you  interested  in  someone ? I’m so tired...

33. Would  you  rather  swim  in  the  lake   or  the  ocean? The ocean.

34. What’s  your  type ? Someone who’s nae going to stab me in the back at the first chance they get. An won’t mind I might be completely blind in the not so distant future. Someone ho’s nae going to make me feel worthless every minute of the day.

35. Are  you  wanting  the  quiz  to  end ? Aye! Off with ye now. I’ve things that need doin.

[ladythespera]

severe sleep deprivation 🤝 hypoglycemia ultimate tiredness combo

[redwinterroses]

RIIIIIIIIIGHT SO.

I just finished chapter 13 of Dog At The Door and holy hot cross buns batman if you're not reading this fic you NEED to. It's literally one of the best written fics I have ever read in my life and I've been reading fanfiction for over 15 years, lol.

I went back and reread the entire fic to lead up to chapter 13 and I decided to treat it like I used to treat things I had to read in college so I took notes as I went and please I am warning you this post is incredibly long. Almost 3k words. PLEASE do not hit that "read more" button unless you're good with having to scroll past it all and also spoilers ahead. Proceed with caution.

~*~

Rereading Dog at the Door reactions (spoilers, obviously):

· Doc finding Ren’s body to be cold and for a second thinking he’s actually dead—my heart

· “That’s Ren, alive and kicking.” Oh…no, Doc. No it’s not.

· The first “Where is my hand?” hits different the second time through

· Gah the ice and winter imagery ALL over the place—my English degree brain wants to watch and see if that shifts to warmth at any point as we go? Thoughts for future Red to think.

· It’s fascinating to me to see Doc constantly thrust into the prey role. This is a guy who is very much not that person normally, but something about the Red King is beyond anything he’s really encountered before—or at least not since Dinnerbone—and it pushes him into an entirely new role that he clearly chafes in

· “I should get back to work on your new arm soon,” he says, making a mental note to add claws to the fingertips. Honestly Doc why tho. XD

· “It feels like something Ren would want him to do.” </3

· Side note: I just watched Doc’s freaking hour long shulker farm vid, and that’s making it a lot easier to hear his voice in this fic

· I’m more curious about the hand.” New Ren laughs a bit at his own words, as though there’s something funny about that phrasing. I MISSED THIS LINE THE FIRST TIME THROUGH

· The bead curtain being cursed hippie treasure XD

· The fact that Doc just so quickly accepts that Ren is gone—maybe not permanently, but at least for now—is kind of heartbreaking. Because you know he hasn’t really accepted it, he’s just… deciding not to feel anything about it. Just nod and move on and pretend you don’t need to stop and cope with the possible/probable death of your best friend and the fact that Someone Else is wearing his skin. That’s so sad.

· “high-fiving the finished hand with his own metal hand.” Aww… Doccy.

· “He shoos away the images of New Ren holding him up by the throat supervillain-style and turns around.” Hmmmmmmm want that fanart. Scary New Ren/RK is good stuff. (post-chapter-13 Red popping in with a WHAT THE HECK)

· “that makes him seem like a ghost in Ren’s body.” YA KNOW. LIKE HE IS.

· Okay side note time: why is the Red King here? Ya know? Like – in 3rdLife the idea of a possessing spirit of bloodlust makes some sense. But why stick around? Was RK trying to escape the 3L server, or was this not deliberate? At what point did he take over from Ren—at Black Heart Altar? In which case, was the whole idea Ren’s to begin with, or was he influenced? Maybe it happened the first time Ren died? The Red King took over then—or at least started to? Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, thoughts…

· Wait more theories—what if RK is connected to the ????? entity that spoke to Martyn when he died? In which case, cMartyn said he was considering making that canonically a Watcher (he ended up not doing it, but he also didn’t do anything that contradicted it either). I’m not saying RK is a Watcher… but boy he sure does stare a lot, don’t he.

· Holding the screwdriver like a dagger—mmmm

· Okay funny thought: all this frost, RK’s gonna need to be real careful about rust lol. And straining the metal, tbh, all that freezing and thawing is going to have an effect but the rust idea is making me laugh

· Until I realized it would look like blood and it’s not funny anymore

· “Renbob is in the beanbag stuffed next to the driver’s seat” right so is this where Renbob sleeps because I have been wondering—

· “something about having two people look like Ren when neither of them are makes Doc stop to take a shaky breath” *sob*

· “Renbob clears his throat, looking up at Doc with a smile that is so obviously fake that it hurts.” Ugh the LOT of you stop repressing everything you’ll give yourselves a collective hernia

· “he’ll probably have to break the news to the other hermits, too, Iskall and False and all the others.” All these painful lines I somehow missed the first time through

· Awww warm air comes in when Renbob opens the door—with the flowers and everything, Renbob is so easily associated with spring, I love this contrast.

· Aaand there it is, yup, RK is shocked to see his face on Renbob, and Renbob is shocked to see that this is so clearly Not Ren.

· They both recover pretty quickly, though. Survivors, both of them.

· RK calls Renbob their “ferryman” and I’m not sure if I was supposed to get “crossing the river Styx” vibes from that But I Did. (does RK think he’s dead? That they’re all dead?) (post-chapter-13 Red here with a little bit of wordless screaming.) (and also a bit of pride that I picked up on this.)

· “And what a help you’ve been! Fixing me up, replacing my hand.” Hi yes, 911? there’s a dagger stabbed into my feels.

· “he’d rather remember rage than see another person’s heart break.” Dang that’s such a raw line. Oof.

· ”the Red King says, his voice hoarse with tears.” Really interesting that this blood deity can feel such emotions—like, anger or even fear, I can get. But to see this entity upset to the point of tears is fascinating.

· “There is a crown on Doc’s workbench.” Right, yeah so like—is RK unwillingly manifesting these artifacts? Because that’s wild, man. …how long before he manifests an “enchanter”?

· “I’ve never seen it [the crown] clean before.” Okay that definitely implies that maybe RK didn’t come around until after Black Heart Altar?

· “The Red King has the crown in his lap when Doc turns back around, claws gently tracing over the engravings, leaving frost patterns behind.” I really wish I had art skills because there’s this image in my head of a drawing of the crown held in RK’s hands, with his face (one eye glowing, one in shadow) reflected in the surface, and frost patterns following behind a claw that’s daintily tracing the surface. But I can’t draw so—

· RK asks for a change of clothes. What was he wearing when they rescued him, I wonder? The Red King outfit with the fur capelet? Or Ren’s Stargazer outfit? Which begs the question: where does Stargazer fit into all this? Was Ren’s return to Hermitcraft RK free, but when he came so close to dying to Sith, RK found that as a gateway to take over? (Post-13 Red here, Looking Intently at this note.)

· Awww… the image of a one-legged RK clutching new clothes to his chest and hopping down to change in the bathroom… That’s weirdly endearing. He’s less menacing when he stands up somehow. Less lurking, maybe.

· Oooohhhhh he messed up his back sleeping on the floor. Gotcha.

· Doc keeps telling himself (and RK) that saving him and working on these parts is “the right thing to do” and while he’s not WRONG I just want to see him realize that it’s not only the right thing, it’s realistically the only thing, because if he didn’t, then he’d have to deal with the fact that he’s lost his best friend and we can’t have that.

· “I don’t need to eat” ummmmmm no hold on this definitely implies that RK is possessing a dead body and I’m not okay with that where is Ren

· LOLOL “I can’t stand to see [you do] this” is such a raw line to be about watching Doc eat cereal with his hands

· “The voice doesn’t belong to who he thinks it does.” Ugh, Doc. This isn’t the first time he’s lost a close friend to Something Else, something otherworldly.

· “All of them are waiting for him, waiting for him to do something more, something better—” aaand there it is. Doc’s characterization in this fic in a single sentence.

· Doc waking up and thinking he’s seeing Ren and RK’s hesitation and the gentle “I’m not Ren”—OH MY HEART

· RK’s coffee = Renbob’s friendship bracelets

· Randomly can I just say that I love how RK’s dialog is all in italics? It concerned me at first because I thought it was going to keep pulling me out of the narrative, but instead it really just feels right. Also I’m looking forward to the moment when he says something and it’s not in italics because it’s REN and oh my lands please give this to me I beg you (post-13 Red here with a bit more mindless screaming)

· “watch your tongue with me, Atlas, because I’m the one person you can pass the sky to.” Okay okay okay—English studies brain coming out. This suggests that there is a burden RK and Doc can share: something Doc is currently struggling against that only RK can help him with. In the moment, I don’t know if this is really fair of RK to say—after all, Doc does technically have Renbob too, if we’re just talking about Doc’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. In fact, if that’s the context, then Renbob is a much better fellow-Atlas because he and Doc have known each other much longer and they’re both dealing with the loss of Ren. BUT, knowing about the upcoming conversation where Doc and RK both realize that they’ve lost someone (Ren for Doc, Martyn for RK) this line suddenly has a lot more weight. Again, I don’t think that in that moment RK quite has the right to pull this zinger. But in later context, it turns out to be true after all. They are the only two with this particular shared pain.

· Doc upset with himself because he can’t get over his “stupid hang-ups” DOC MY LAD. “I’ve lost my best friend, you’re in his body, and I don’t know how to process any of these emotions” is not a “stupid hang-up” PLEASE stop blaming yourself for everything!?

· “I’m so tired” in the middle of his nightmare—oh my gosh. That hurts so much for some reason.

· I also very much wish I had the ability to draw the image of Doc with tears on his face, staring dead-eyed down at his workbench while RK looms over from behind, pinning his wrists to the table with one metal arm and one frost-bitten one, a look of exasperation and concern on his face. Why can’t I draw the things

· “How do you know Etho” “I watched him die.” OW ow ow ow ow

· Doc takes this as calmly as only someone used to living in a world where death has low consequences can. Oh. Oh—that means… huh. Doc isn’t used to losing people permanently on any basis, especially not death. So no wonder he doesn’t know how to process Ren being gone (I can’t bear to write “dead” there). He literally doesn’t have context for it… and what context he DOES have is like—I mean, Etho and Bdubs came back. Ouch.

· “Twenty-five.” The Red King makes the number sound like a threat. Yet another banger line I missed the first time through. Imagine waking up and thinking you’re in 3rd Life again but instead of 14 players there’s almost twice that many and you think you don’t know any of them.

· I still don’t quite understand the “when was etho added/should have known there was something different” bit or why RK is so emotional about it… but I have trust that it’ll make sense at some point. (post-13 Red: ...is this something about the fact that he thinks he's dead...so he thinks Etho has died before? Like, that 3rd Life wasn't Etho's first hardcore? ...I feel like I'm almost grasping this but I'm missing an element somewhere.)

· And now a sword. RK. My man. You need to stop manifesting things—especially when they scare the ever-living daylights out of you.

· I absolutely adore the in-universe lore that Fire Aspect is a PvP enchantment because it threatens dropped loot, and yeah I very well might steal that. (Along with something I read at one point who-even-knows-where that Knockback is a coward’s enchantment, because I love that too.)

· He really shouldn’t. / Doc picks up the sword by the scabbard and hands it to him, hilt extended. Doc you already trust this guy so much and you don’t even know it—but is it just because you still subconsciously trust the face he wears? Or is it something deeper?

· Ugh, the “I was supposed to kill someone for him” conversation/scene is SO FREAKING GOOD

· “I don’t want it. Not like the crown.” Why, though? Why doesn’t he want it? Because it’s more to do with death than kingship? OH. Oh, I hadn’t even considered that. I’ve been thinking of RK as this like, god of blood and vengeance but maybe he’s not. Maybe he hates the bloodshed (“the blood! It’s drippin’ in me eyes… I’ve been blinded by the violence…”) just as much—more?—than Ren did/would have. Huh. That’s a new facet.

· Oh my heart the “have you ever lost someone and it was your fault” line. Dagger to the feels. Dagger to the feels.

· This like… “I’m on a roll and even though I know I should stop I really don’t want to” mode? Man. That’s relatable. Especially when you’re working to avoid dealing with something else.

· “Not making it for you—it’s for Ren” oh ouch ouch ouch the denial suddenly breaks through it’s okay, Doc I’m with you on this

· The second time reading through it’s far clearer that Doc has a blind panic attack here—when he starts rambling that Ren’s coming back, he’ll be there for season eight and RK goes to…do whatever he was going to do and Doc just blanks out. The manic productivity should have been a warning sign, the poor guy is crumbling.

· “Doctor” and “he’s not sure he deserves that title right now” UGH Doc needs a hug someone please hug him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. Someone please hug me and tell me it’s all going to be okay.

· “his hand on his throat” over the scar from the Red Winter axe? </3

· “I did do that. I have done that.” RK admitting to it actually having been him in Doc’s nightmares?

· Okay sorry the conversation about beating Dinnerbone will never not be funny to me

· RK mentions that people used to call him m’lord or Ren, and then mere minutes later you have “Ren. You couldn’t save him because of me, could you?” He knows exactly what’s going on here. Not maliciously, but he’s no dense-head, he’s put the pieces together. (post-13 Red: MOST of the pieces. Most of them.)

· Watching Doc slowly stop fighting his nightmares—like, the first time, he fights. The second time, he accepts it but still struggles. And this time… this time he gives up before it even starts. That hurts, man.

· Good grief the whole “get my head chopped off” / “you really don’t want that” bit. O.O I’m not sure what emotion I’m feeling but I’m Feeling An Emotion.

· “Snow’s new. Dream’s not.” </3

· …Doc’s not gonna be a fan of snowier-snow after this trip…

· "Dr. M77" Actually he’s Doc Monster, RK, but we’ll let it go. XD

· OKAY BUT THIS EXCHANGE? The “how are you feeling” / “better” / “you’re a bad liar” / “I said better not great” that’s such a good exchange and I don’t know why every other time I’ve ever seen it used they stop at the lying accusation? Doc with the snappy comebacks, man.

· Aaah, Doc and RK, two establishment bros bonding over a shared disdain for hippies.

· The bit about the fella who wore an iron helmet and called it a powdered wig—fear is in my heart. *shoves Scar into an obsidian box and blocks it closed*

· “Who was Ren to you?” </3

· Doc is more than willing to spread the flames, to sear his loss into RK’s bones. / The king’s face stops him. Ren’s face stops him. Holy CRAP is that a good set of lines. So much going on there, and ALL of it good.

· Again. I wish I could draw. I would draw RK sitting on the edge of the bed, gently hugging a collapsed-in-on-himself Doc. </3

· “And I hate the devil that forced us apart, that mixed my blood with his.” *adds another layer to Scar’s obsidian fort*

· OKAY STARTING CHAPTER THIRTEEN I made the mistake of logging into Tumblr earlier and saw people screaming so I’m sure I’m not ready for this but here we go

· Oh no RK has been hippie-ified

· “You started a paramilitary organization because you have hay fever?” *dies laughing*

· Ugh I need to go back and watch s6 I’ve only seen the tail end of Mumbo’s side of things and there’s so much I don’t know.

· HAHAHAHAH I do know the trident bit though—

· Wait he said Scar

· PANIC

· “Kingslayer. bloodthirsty. Time King. The coward. And the mastermind behind it all, the loyal soldier to the very end, the whole damn reason either of us are in this mess.”

· HOLY CRAP HOLY CRAP HOLY—

· “Is this the afterlife I deserve? After everything, this is the hell I’m going to endure?” I AM SCREAMING

· Doc pinned to the wall with ice, struggling to breathe—I CAN’T WHAT IS HAPPENING

· ((You know I’d get through this a lot faster if I stopped pausing to write reactions—))

· “A break in the ice. A whisper of spring.” Symbolism. Symbolism.

· “Ren was dead when I found him again,” NO I REFUSE TO READ THIS

· “don’t use the hand I built you to hurt yourself” DOC. SIR. MY HEART.

· RK don't run, RK get back here—what are you—

·

·

· I

· JUST

· ACTUALLY

· SCREAMED

· AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

· *several long moments of just breathing*

·

·

·

· *rereads*

· Holy crap on a garbage cracker with an extra serving of what-the-heck sauce

· REN

· REN

· Okay lol okay hahaha calming down

· I literally threw myself back in my chair away from the computer reading that last paragraph. I don't usually... physically react to things I read. LOL. Heh. I’m. Ah. I’m not emotionally invested in this or anything.

· Holy crap.

· Okay. Okay. Okay.

· Um.

· Great chapter, guys. Awesome stuff. Really good. I’m absolutely okay right now and it’s all totally fine.

· …please enjoy your break and get lots of rest and I very much look forward to the return of this fic you have no idea.

· I need to go breathe for a little bit.

EDIT: no, you know what--I'm not going to be a nice polite fangirl over here and quietly hope y'all see this I'm straight up tagging you, @fluffy-papaya and @betweenlands. THANK YOU but also how dare.

[ketamineharry]

Confessions - Ethan Payne 

Requested: Yes ~ Nikki could you please write an imagine based on Confessions by Usher. Particularly the part where he says he's having a baby with someone else? I feel like this request would suit Ethan the best, thank you 💜

Authors Note: I’m not sure I’m entirely pleased with how this one turned out, but I loved the request. So here it is xo

You sat across from Ethan, observing him quietly. He had cocooned in on himself, his gaze fixed on the floor. His hands, folded together, tucked underneath his chin. His breathing alternating between being shallow and heightened. He had called you over, because he had to talk to you about something. However, despite the fact that you had been sitting with him for over an hour, he hadn’t so much as hinted at what this was about.

“If you don’t tell me what this is about, we can’t try and make steps to get over it and move on.” You reminded him, as you rubbed his back comfortingly. You knew that this could be in vain however, as, sometimes despite how much Ethan would want to tell you something, if he saw it as ‘too risky’, he would bury his head in the sand and not say anything until the very last minute.

“So you know, about a month ago… when I told you that I hadn’t been completely faithful when I was in LA with the lads? Well, she got in contact with me on insta and she’s informed me that she’s pregnant.” He informed you, as he looked at you for the first time. He wanted to gage your reaction.

But the truth was, you didn’t know how you were supposed to feel. You had forgiven him for the cheating and, you had only just started to heal from it. If you had forgiven him for that, surely you had no right to be angry about the fact that said cheating had resulted in a pregnancy. But, what infuriated you was Ethan had told you, he wasn’t ready for a baby, that he had to focus on his career commitments. When he was ready to be a dad, he wanted to be fully dedicated. Supposedly, he wasn’t ready for that.

“So… you’ve sent her the money for the abortion, right?” You asked, as you collected your thoughts. It was selfish. But the thought of someone else having Ethan’s first born, when she was practically a perfect stranger to him, made you feel physically ill. That was what you had wanted. You were his girlfriend, after all.

“I asked her if that’s what the message was about, but it wasn’t. She’s keeping it.” He mumbled, as he swallowed hard. Tears filled his eyes, as he placed his hand over yours. The cold metal of his rings, matching the coldness of the message he had just delivered.

“She’s keeping it?” You repeated, the shock taking over. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. This is your fault. You cheated!” You screamed, as you stood up and walked to the other side of the room. The anger that you had felt not so long ago, when he had revealed that he had cheated on you had resurfaced ten fold. Pretty soon into your relationship with Ethan you had figured out that you wanted to have children with him. An opportunity that thus far he had declined you of. But, a random woman he had met at a bar, seemed to fit the bill perfectly.

“I couldn’t exactly predict that she was going to get pregnant, could I? I wore protection.” He said, in an attempt to defend himself.

“Oh, right, yeah. Congratulations dickhead, you wore protection while you were cheating on me. That makes this situation so much better.” You mocked, adding in a sarcastic clap.

“Y/N I don’t know what else to say. It was a mistake. I don’t want things to be this way.”

“Right, well, I’m afraid to inform you pal, that you were the one who fucked someone else. Regardless of protection, you still took the risk of impregnating some random woman who lives thousands of miles away from you. She’s lucky that she does… because pregnant or not, I would have scrapped her. You’re lucky that I haven’t started on you yet.” You seethed, as you paced back and forth on the rug; trying to calm yourself down.

“If it makes you feel better, hit me.”

“D’ya know what Ethan? You’re not even worth it. I’m going to leave now. I’m also never coming back. I hope you enjoy the mess you created.” You said, as you took the key he had given you to his apartment out of your bag and placed it on the glass coffee table in the middle of the room.

As you left the apartment, you could hear soft sobs from the lounge area. But, you had nothing to feel guilty about. He was the one who had wronged you. You had the rest of your life to look forward to -- hopefully with better choices, that don’t end up with you in a relationship with someone who impregnates another woman while they’re with you.

[rebelwrites]

Finest Hour

Jax Teller x Reader

A/N based on “finest hour” by Gavin DeGraw lyrics in bold

Is it really true?

All the stuff we did last night

We shut down the bars

Danced on top of cars

Asked some girl if she’d be my wife

It currently felt like an elephant was stopping on your head. Rolling over onto your front you buried your face into your pillow as the light from the sun was just too harsh. Hearing your best friend groan beside you, you knew she was feeling the same as you did.

“I can’t remember much about last night” you said softly but it came out as a mumble as your face was planted into the pillow still.

Luckily your best friend understood the language of mumbled and hungover. Turning your head to the side to face her.

“Girl we shut things down” Lexi smirked “I mean I’m sure you asked a blonde lad to marry you last night”

“Oh god” you groaned “please tell me I didn’t”

“Yeah you did I got this picture of you on one knee to him” Lexi said showing her her phone.

“Please kill me now”

“Hey at least he is cute” she winked “you never know”

Oh, and I got pictures that I don’t remember taking that are so bad

And, oh, I had to break into my own damn apartment

How bout that?

They say the best always come from the worst nights baby, but

Oh, it was crazy

And, oh, it was amazing

We blew all our money

And crashed in your Mercedes

Both you and Lexi were currently sat on the balcony of your shared apartment, sunglasses shielding your eyes, nursing a very strong coffee and cigarette hanging from your lips as you went through the photos of the night before.

“I can’t believe we had to break into our own place because you lost the key” You half laughed at your best friend.

“Who knew you could pick locks” she winked.

Leaning over the balcony, you caught a glimpse of the Mercedes your dad got you as a graduation gift. The black paint had bright pink streaks of spray paint down the sides alongside the front wing being buckled.

“I guess I best get that sorted today” you huffed “I don’t even like the car but Dad is coming down next weekend so I can’t let him see the car like this”

“We taking a trip to Teller Morrow then?” Lexi asked.

“I think so” you nodded.

Yeah, we both got numbers

But didn’t get the names

And my whole damn party lost power

It was, it was, it was our finest hour

“Girl why have you got a number written on your hip?” Lexi gasped as your hoodie rose up.

“What?” You shrieked looking down to see a number scrawled onto your skin with a permanent marker. “Whose number is it?”

“My bet is on the blondie” she smirked “you were quite cosy with him last night, like he did have his tongue down your throat quite a bit”

“Lex I can’t even remember the guy” you laughed, saving the number in your phone.

“Just text the number” she winked. “Now come on the tow truck is here”

“Let’s go waste some money on a car I hate” you laughed grabbing your phone and bank card.

Walking up to the office trying to find someone to sort your car. Little did you know the blonde you were getting steamy with was currently working on a car in the garage.

“Can I help you darlin’” the blonde asked looking up from the engine.

The words got stuck in your throat. You felt like you were choking on the air.

“Wait I know you” the guy smirked “I mean I write my number on your hip and I don’t even get a call or a text but now you are stalking me”

“Urm” you stuttered “er, I didn’t, I’m not”

“What my dumbass friend is trying to say is, she can’t actually remember you” Lexi laughed making you glare at her. “What it’s true”

“Y/N I thought I’d leave an impression” the blonde smirked “I mean I did have you moaning my name in the toilets and you kinda proposed to me”

“Oh shit” you said feeling your cheeks burned “I mean I remember that just not your name”

“Well I guess that’s a start” he smirked “it’s Jax by the way”

“Well Jax I need someone to fix my car” you said rubbing the back of your neck.

“I see you carried on the party after I left” Jax smirked draping his arm over your shoulder.

“Lexi, Chibs is around here somewhere” Jax winked.

“Sorry girl I’m dipping” Lexi smirked leaving you and Jax alone.

“I feel so embarrassed right now” you said looking at your feet.

“Well darlin how about I get someone to work on your car and we shall go get some breakfast” Jax smiled.

“Still doesn’t kill the embarrassment” you mumbled.

“Tell you what darlin’ let’s start a fresh, we don’t have to mention last night” Jax smiled “now what do you say to breakfast”

“Well I am starving” you giggled looking into them blue eyes “but you are paying boy”

SOA TAGLIST

@chibsytelford @talicat713 @corebore123 @nothingeverdies @teapartydreams @mrspeacem1nusone @khyharah @itmejado @beth-winchester21 @rocketqueen @auroraariza @trulysuccubus @haynsey @witching-hour @destynelseclipsa @edonaspanca @abbiesthings @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @jadesamhart @lady-pswrld @ly--canthrope @hennessyauntie @gemini0410 @i-love-scott-mccall @est11 @mystic-shadows42 @sugary-x-sweet @starrynite7114 @skyofficialxx @terminallygenius @lauraashley93 @leaalfred @angelreyesgirl89 @sheeshgivemeabreak @marquelapage @meteora-fc @penny4yourthot @justahopelessssromantic @ilikechocolatemilkh @mayans-sauce @xbreezymeadowsx @ben-c-group-therapy @-im-fantastic- @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @milaxmariex @cubblycie @little-diable @hotdamnhunnam @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead

[mediocrevideopodcast]

Domestic Headcanons

Summary: Domestic headcanons with your local rat man <3 

Relationship: Dastardly Danny/Reader (Established Relationship) 

Content Warnings: None! 

Word Count: 1422

Leonard’s Here // Mickey’s Here 

Like Leonard, it isn’t easy for him to exit his life of crime. He’d love to, honestly. Oh, he’s dreamed of running away with you and starting a life together thousands - if not millions - of times. But once you’re in, there’s no way out. Like Leonard, he could defect, but he knows Big Mama would catch on long before he could ever get the ball rolling. Hell, even if all three of you banded together to execute the plan, it wouldn’t work. Not only that, but a huge part of why he runs with the Mud Dogs is because of the thrill. He’ll get out of jail and immediately start planning another heist, regardless of the danger. Adrenaline courses through his blood at all hours of the day, and each waking moment is spent waiting for the next thrill. He just hides it better than Mickey does. But oh, how soft he goes when he thinks of waking up by your side and not having to worry about how he’s gonna pay rent, or when you’ll need to run again. How his heart flutters when he thinks of spending a night by your side, slow dancing in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning, without the screech of police sirens tearing through the atmosphere.

If you have a home top-side though… oh, it’s a dream come true. He knows he can’t stay there 24/7 - Big Mama would come looking for him soon enough - but it certainly is tempting. He prefers to spend most of his time at your guys’ place topside, even when it’s safe to be in the Hidden City. I was serious when I said part of him really longs for a domestic life.

The only one of the Mud Dogs who actually knows how to decorate. And oh, he’s so so good at it. He likes a lot of antique stuff, and he’ll regularly look for stuff to update your home with. He’s also the type to switch out covers, pillows, and plates throughout the seasons.

Very, very meticulous when it comes to cleaning. He’ll do a top-down clean of the house once every month or two, but he has a good routine when it comes to cleaning. He gets a little stressed if things aren’t organized. It’s funny though, because he DOES hoard cups. It always makes him chuckle when you bring it up.

Saves a lot of stuff: he always thinks it’ll come in handy later. Which means you guys have multiple junk drawers <3

He picks up so much stuff with his tail and then forgets where it is. It’s really funny to watch him spin around a room with his tail wrapped around a can of beans while he asks you if you remember where he put it.

He likes to watch It’s a Wonderful Life with you every Christmas. He’s not even Christian, it’s just tradition at this point.  

He likes to have music playing throughout the home often. Especially when cooking.

He sucks at driving. Please don’t let him drive.

It’s so fun to shop with him, genuinely. Like, he gets it all done in record time, but he’s also gonna fuck around once you guys get everything you need.

You guys have two shelves of things you guys have collected during your time together. Whether it’s a mug from a road trip or an amulet from a heist, if it has sentimental value it’s going on the shelf.

Huge fan of hanging photos and making photo albums. He’s not a scrapbooker, but he likes to save photos. Something about them just makes his heart soft, you know?

Prefers the northeastern “regular” coffee. It doesn’t matter how expensive the beans are, coffee is meant to have cream and sugar in it. He’s very sparing with the cream, though. He takes his at about paper bag color, and he won’t go any lighter than that. He’ll absolutely poke fun at you if you do, though. But he’ll make it for you anyways with a smile on his face. Speaking of which, he’s also always the first to make coffee in the morning. He prefers to make coffee in the morning, because he prefers the freshness of the grounds. Also yes, he grinds his own beans. Yes, it sucks when either of you have a hangover. But the coffee’s good, so you don’t complain.

He cooks most nights! He’s an excellent cook, honestly. He follows recipes very closely, except for spices which he guesses with. Also a great baker, but he always forgets that metal pans are hot when you take them out of the oven. Look, he’s used to magic ovens, okay?

He wants to learn how to garden, and he’s somewhat okay at it. So long as it's low maintenance, he can do it. Not a big fan of growing flowers himself, though. He thinks they’re pretty and all, but he likes to grow herbs instead. Something that’s useful and has a quick yield, you know? He has an aerogarden on the kitchen counter where he grows a bunch of herbs that he switches out regularly. The tarragon, basil, and parsley has been his favorite thus far. Leonard keeps pushing him to grow things like mint, lemon balm, and shungiku, but at this point he’s just saying “no” out of spite.

(He’s ecstatic if you grow veggies or fruits, though. Heirloom fruits and veggies are so fucking good, it’s unreal. Who can resist them? Nobody. Nobody.)

Plus it reminds him of the few good childhood memories he’s had. He gets a very soft look on his face when he talks about his Lolo and Lola, and how his Lola always had the biggest garden. He doesn’t talk about his childhood a lot, but he remembers his grandparents very fondly.

He hums around the house often. He always has a song stuck in his head, and it’s sweet.

He’s almost always on his feet, pacing around the house or running back into another room because he forgot something. He’s a little forgetful, but he just gets very in his head and he misplaces stuff. But if he passes by you, or walks through a room that you’re in, he’ll pretty much always walk past you and kiss your temple. Or fuck with your hair.

He melts if you ever fix his tie in the morning, or before a heist. It could be just how he likes it, and he’d still let you adjust it.

His fur is always super messed up in the morning: he always looks like a bat outta hell. He tries to shower in the morning to counteract that, but oftentimes, he just doesn’t have the time. And it takes hours to dry his fur off after showering, so either way, you’re both gonna be spending a lot of time messing with his fur: you just get to choose whether you do it in the morning or at night. You always help him comb down his fur in the morning: he’d be in there for hours, otherwise. It’s a nice little routine, though.

(One time the lads came in before y’all got to start detangling the absolute mop that he is, and he was mortified </3)

When you guys are laying low and there’s no hijinks to be had, he’ll still walk around the house in slacks and a button-up. Definitely a step down from his usual attire, but he feels strange if he doesn’t get dressed for the day. If you convince him to have a lazy day with you though, he’ll wear a tank top and sweats. WOOF

Funnily enough, he’d really like a cat someday! Ironic, yes, but he thinks they’re cute. He’d also be down for a dog: He likes the bigger and fluffier ones. A leonberger would probably be his first choice.

He always reads at night. He’s always down to read outloud to you if you’re interested, but he’s also content with just reading on his own. He’s an avid reader, and he always has been. It’s nice to just lean on him and count his breaths while he reads. Very slow and steady, and at some point, he’ll usually start tracing little shapes on your spine with his claws. You’re not even sure if he realizes he’s doing it, but it’s very relaxing. 

“Two more chapters, and then I’ll go to bed.” “Don’t people usually say ‘one more chapter?’” “Yeah, but that’d be a lie and we both know it.” “Fair.”

[xwing-baby]

Impulse: Remedy (Javier Peña x Reader)

Summary: Top of your class, the DEA have sent you to Colombia to be the poster child for their new ‘placement program’. You’re thrown in at the deep end into the drug war. With Agent Peña as your mentor, what could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: Rookie has really terrible coping mechanisms. Drug use, alcohol, swearing, derogatory language, smoking, mentions of murder(?)

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Sorry for the delay lads, for some reason this chapter did not want to be written! As always don’t sleep with your boss and don’t do drugs unless their prescription :P

<-- Previous Chapter  // Masterlist //  Next Chapter -->

-- 

You were exhausted. You hadn’t slept for more than an hour after leaving Javier’s apartment. Not for lack of trying, you thought your previous activities would have worn you out. But no. You were too scared to sleep, not wanting to deal with any nightmares that might occur so you sat on your dusty old couch, drank a vat of coffee and waited until the rest of the city woke up. 

You cursed under your breath when you saw Steve’s truck had already gone by the time you got downstairs. It was Connie’s volunteering day at the hospital, he always took her early. You had to go with Javi. You sat on the wall outside the apartment, smoking a cigarette and waiting for Javier to come outside. You had no idea what you were supposed to say to him, how were you supposed to act. You couldn’t really pretend like nothing had happened, sleeping with him like that was not something you could brush under the rug. But you didn’t want to talk to him about it, that would make it real. A real action with real consequences. If anyone found out that would be the end of your time here, and quite possibly the end of your time in the DEA entirely. 

Eventually Javier came outside, spotted you on the wall and waved. You got up, chucked the packet of cigarettes in your hand to him before you stubbed out your own and got into the truck. 

“So, do you want to talk about last night?” He asked as he lit a new cigarette.

“Not particularly. There isn’t really much to say is there?” 

“Not really,” He shrugged, “You’re not in love with me now, right?” 

“In your fucking dreams Peña. You weren’t that good,” You laughed at his audacity. You were lying, he was very good at it. But you weren’t in love with him. No, you couldn’t allow yourself even if you were. 

“You bitch,” He tried to be serious but your laugh was contagious. 

Javi immediately felt relieved, he’d spent all night worrying about you. He really didn’t want the sex to ruin everything you had going as a team. He was a little scared he had scared you off entirely but now you were laughing in his passenger seat as if nothing had ever happened all his worries were laid to rest. 

“It happened and that’s it. We don’t need to make it a thing,” You said.

“Agreed,” 

“Awesome, let’s go to work then,” 

And just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened. Back to piles of paperwork, chasing up lazy cops for their reports and trying desperately to avoid Carrillo. It was going to take time to get over what you had seen him do. You didn’t want to see him, let alone be left alone with him. You’d pushed all responsibility for anything related to him onto Javier, who in return passed you more of his paperwork. It was a fair trade off. 

At your desk, hummin away to yourself you could almost convince yourself you were fine. Thanks to the never ending cup of coffee and the sugar doughnuts you found for lunch, your energy levels were back up high. All reminders of the night before were out of sight and you were so consumed in work you didn’t notice as the day came to a close. 

“Good night last night?” Steve asked across the desk.

“Huh?” You looked up from your work. Steve motioned to his neck, and you immediately cringed. You had forgotten about the hickey. “Oh, um yeah I guess,” You pulled your jacket back on, despite the heat, as the collar would cover the mark again. 

“I thought you and Peña were out in the jungle for that lead. You would have got back super late,” Steve said. 

“Everyone’s got their vices, Murphy,” Javier reappeared, jumping to your aid. Steve looked suspiciously between you and Javi. 

“Guess you two are becoming more similar by the day,” He chuckled to himself, shaking any ideas from his mind. 

“Guess so,” You agreed. You and Javi shared a glance while Steve looked away, both of you well aware of the shit storm that would kick up if Steve found out. He loved you and Javi a lot, but there is no way he would just skip over such an event. You flashed a smile, silently thanking Javi for stepping in for you, before he went back to work again. 

To avoid any further questioning, you kept your jacket on for the remainder of the day, rather enduring the heat and cursing Javier for leaving a mark, than having anymore prying questions from Steve. When you finally gave up struggling with your mountain of paperwork, Steve offered you a ride home which you took gladly.

“You and Javi slept together last night, huh?” Steve asked as you rolled out of the embassy. Startled, you immediately went on the defense and laughed.

“Wh-what no!” You spluttered.

“I’m not an idiot, Rookie,” Steve raised an eyebrow at you. You didn’t know what to say, so shook your head and shrugged, “So Javi was talking out of his ass earlier?” He said. Your stomach immediately dropped. 

“Who’s he been talking to?” All laughter was gone from your voice. If Javi had said something that was it. Why on earth would he say anything? 

“So something did happen?” Steve exclaimed, happy that his hunch was right.

“Steve,” You sighed heavily. Relieved for only a moment before more dread piled on. 

“I can’t believe you two,” He said shaking his head, “I mean I was kind of expecting it with Javi’s reputation but I thought you had some standards at least,” 

“You weren’t there, you don’t get it. It wasn’t anything meaningful just- things happen sometimes,” You sighed, “Did he actually say anything to you?” 

“No,” He spoke more sympathetically now, “but I figured something was up, you’ve been acting weird all morning,” 

“That’s more to do with the lack of sleep,” You explained, “Yesterday got a bit… dark. I don’t think I slept at all,” 

“Carrillo?” Steve asked. You nodded solemnly, “You’ll get used to it,” 

You didn’t get used to it. That night haunted you. You couldn’t sleep, every time you shut your eyes the tortured man's face stared back at you. You were practically intolerable come the end of the week. You’d fallen asleep at your desk on multiple occasions, snapped at everyone in the office, and drank enough coffee to fill an Olympic swimming pool. You made a secretary cry by snapping at her over some missing evidence and, had broken the phone on your desk. 

As bad as your week had ended up being you still had to go out at the end of it. Instead of curling up with a movie and takeout you had to attend María’s family’s party. You didn’t know why you were invited but you definitely couldn’t back out of it. You’d hoped by now you would have cheered up, that you would be excited to let loose but you were miserable.

The party itself was gorgeous. Set out in the countryside, an hour from Medellin, the hills made for a beautiful backdrop. The Parreño’s summer house was exactly as you had expected, lavish and decadent. Courtyards filled with marble statues and paintings by various famous artists covered the walls. Lights were strung up around the garden between the pool house and a gazebo creating a colourful glow out onto the golden sky. 

The air was full of conversation and music. Even though you were surrounded by people who would kill you if they found out who you really were, somehow with a drink in your hand you felt a little more relaxed. María had leant you a dress, a simple little black number, and fixed your makeup in the car ride here while excitedly telling you about her cousin from Argentina she was going to set you up with. You were at the very least, on the way to being happy. 

María dragged you around introducing you to so many people you couldn’t remember their names. You gave up trying after ten different people María introduced as her auntie. You smiled and politely complimented their outfit or their hair and moved on. That was until you finally recognised someone. Senator Parreño, a regular face in your life. You prayed he wouldn’t recognise you, you had only met him once, sitting in the back of the ambassador's office while they spoke about something. Like most people, he ignored you that day and hopefully he wouldn’t have a clue now.

“Dad this is my friend, Isabela,” María introduced you. You were taken back for a moment. You knew her family was rich, but a senator for a father made them powerful too. Far more influence and scandal with their new link to Escobar too. 

“Nice to meet you,” You smiled and shook his hand. The senator looked puzzled.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” He asked. Your heart skipped a beat. 

“Oh stop it Dad I talk about her all the time, she’s been to our house a lot,”

“No, no it’s from somewhere else,” He squinted at you, looking you up and down. You could feel yourself sweating as you nervously took a big gulp of the cocktail in your hand.

“Isabela works at the American embassy papa, maybe you’ve just seen her there,” María said.

“I am a secretary,” You added quickly, “Usually running around the place, you probably saw me then,” You laughed nervously. Outwardly, you knew you looked normal but inside you were panicking massively.

“Ah I see,” He nodded, not entirely convinced. Luckily before he could interrogate you further or work out who you actually were, María linked arms with you and pulled your attention away.

“Come on, I just spotted Carlos. You will love him,” 

--

Three things you had learnt about Carlos. One, he could and should be in a magazine. He was stunningly handsome in a shirt with far too many buttons undone you were practically drooling over him. Two, he was smart. An engineer. A very upstanding career especially compared to the occupation of most of the people at the party. And three, he really liked cocaine. That part did let him down quite a bit.

Hidden away from the prying eyes of parents and older generations, María, Diego, Carlos and multiple others you did not remember the names of, sat around listening to Carlos rave about the new recipe his friend had told him about. You listened carefully, if your hangover didn’t delete this information in the morning it would be great. Could finally have something to show for your weeks with María. 

Carlos pulled out a pack of the new cocaine and poured out a good pile. You watched them all take a line. Part of you was interested in seeing what it was like. It must be good if everyone was so addicted to the stuff. You handled some much of the powder on a daily basis but you’d never even tried it. Seemed almost ridiculous. Maybe it was what you needed to finally relax a little, the alcohol wasn’t hitting the spot. One line wouldn’t kill you.

“Want some?” María offered, wiping her nose of residue. You shook your head. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” You announced, standing up from your seat on the couch. You climbed over María out of the circle of people. You could use their distraction to your advantage now. Now María wasn’t holding on to you you could actually go and investigate. Now with two Narcos connected attendees at least and the revelation that Senator Parreño was María’s father, any information you could find giving a definite link would be huge. 

“Don’t be a pussy Isabela!” Diego hollered. 

“Oh leave her alone, she’s only going for a moment,” María shoved her boyfriend playfully, “She’ll do it later,” 

“Pacing myself,” You agreed with a smile. 

“Miss you already!” María called after you before dissolving into fits of giggles.

Inside, the house was quiet. Only a couple of people sat in the living room downstairs and they paid no attention to you as you walked inside. 

You walked up a set of elegant marble stairs, deciding upstairs may be your best option so not to get caught. Two long corridors led off the stairs, with doors leading off each side. You were looking for an office, that would be the place any paperwork would be kept. You would need letters, or meeting schedules. Something to prove a link. 

You turned left, and hit the jackpot with the first try. Senator Parreño’s home office.You pushed the door open slowly, checking nobody had followed you before going inside. The office was immaculate, just as grand as the rest of the house. A large portrait of Maria’s family hung over the back of the desk, all of their eyes watching you as you searched through the room. 

The room was full of things. One wall taken up by a set of shelves full of books and photographs and different trinkets of different sides. A leather couch sat in the window overlooking the gardens. 

You came to the desk last. The top was clear of anything bar a photo of his wife, a line of pens and a rolodex. You flicked through it, found nothing of interest. 

You stood up to find something you could use to pick the locks when you heard heavy footsteps from outside the door. You stood still for a moment, hoping to hear the footsteps go in the opposite direction down the hall. They got closer. 

Before you were caught red handed, you made your escape. Racing to the door, you hoped you would have enough time to slip out without being caught. Quietly as possible, you opened the door.

“Isabela,” María’s father’s voice came from behind you as you shut the door. You turned around quickly, smiling innocently.

“Hi Mr Parreño!” You exclaimed, “Do you know where the bathroom is? I can’t find it?” 

“It’s not in there,” He looked at your hand on the door, which you quickly removed and stepped away from.

“You’re house is just huge. I can’t ever seem to remember where I am going here,” You laughed nervously, “I’ll try down the hall,” You turned around and began to walk away, your 

“I’d learn to be more careful, Agent,” The senator said after you. Your heart stopped. Slowly, you turned back around to face him again, “I guess you are here for my daughter’s stupid boyfriend?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You said slowly, your mouth slow to catch up with your brain which was already working out the multiple ways to get out of the house safely. 

“You can quit your act, I won’t say anything,” He laughed dryly. 

“No act,” You shook your head, “I didn’t lie, I really don’t know what you are talking about. I am not here investigating Diego. María invited me” 

“I remembered where I saw you. You were with those DEA agents,” 

“I work with them sometimes, we’re friends,” You shrugged. 

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” He was on to you

“I’m sorry but I really do need the bathroom, if you could direct me there that would be great. I’ve had far too much to drink,” 

“Down there, fourth on the right,” 

“Thank you,” You walked away quickly, heart thumping against your ribcage at an alarming rate. He knew who you were! He knew exactly who you were! 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You cursed under your breath. 

You quickly spiralled, thinking off all the worst possible things that could happen now. Parreño would tell someone else who you were, maybe he would do something now. You were alone, neither Peña or Murphy knew where you were, out in the middle of nowhere it would be pretty simple to get rid of your body. You didn’t even find any evidence, you reasoned with yourself and he wouldn’t want any suspicion to his name. He probably wouldn’t kill you. 

Taking another deep breath as you tried to calm your rattling heart. Your hands gripped the cold porcelain of the sink and slowly you relaxed again. You couldn’t go back out looking like you were scared, that would give you up entirely. You looked at your face in the mirror, at least outwardly you didn’t look too bad. Your makeup had shifted a little but you still looked ok. You were fine. 

After another round of deep breaths and a pep talk to yourself, you stepped out of the bathroom and put a game face on. 

“Isabela! You’re back!” María exclaimed as you returned to the group. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” Your voice was not convincing as you watched the senator walk past. He looked at your briefly, a knowing glint in his eye as he clocked you. “Can I have some?” You nodded to the coke on the table as an impulsive and reckless idea came into your head. There was no way he could continue to think you were DEA if you did this. Either that or he would just think you were an idiot and not press you again. 

“Finally you stop being a complete baby! Come here!” María cheered. 

You stood up and stepped over to where María was knelt. You joined her on the floor, watching carefully as she lined the powder up with a card from the table. She presented it to you with a flourish, laughing again. 

Surprisingly, you were not scared. The adrenaline of the close call was pacing through your veins. Your mind was so full of fear and anxiety, the idea of finally getting some relief was enticing.

You felt calm, no anxiety in your body holding you back anymore you took the drug from the table. You made a face of discomfort and spluttered a bit when it hit the back of your throat. The people around you laughed, but you didn’t feel embarrassed. It took a moment, but soon you felt the effects. All inhibition and anxiety left your body, you felt lighter and buzzing with energy. 

“See, it’s good right?” Maria smiled. You nodded enthusiastically. 

--

You woke up the next morning, tired and hungover. You couldn’t remember much of the night, but turning over to see Carlos naked next to you gave you a good idea of what had happened. He drove you back to Medellin a few hours later, his sports car was a very nice change from the cars you usually drove in. He was a sweet guy and you talked the entire journey home.

“Will I see you again?” He asked as he pulled up a little way from your apartment. You pretended to think about it for a moment, before breaking into a smile and nodding. “Perfect,” He smiled. You got out of the car, the happy smile not leaving your face as you waved and walked away. 

You watched his car pull away before turning in the direction of your apartment. You still had an identity to hide afterall, even if he was nice you couldn’t let him see where you actually lived. There was still a threat of Parreño exposing you, if Carlos knew where  you lived too it was only a matter of time before everyone would be in danger too.

“So that’s where you were,” Javier called out to you across the street as you approached. He sat on the steps of the apartment building, enjoying the sunshine, smoking and drinking a beer. “Getting laid,”

“Not jealous are you, Javi?” You smirked. 

“No! You’re an adult you can do what you want,” He said with a laugh. A jealous twinge in his chest caught him off guard but he couldn’t let you know that, “You look nice by the way, it’s a cute dress,” 

“Thanks,” You blushed a little. He shuffled out the way to let you pass him and climb the stairs. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me,”

“Sure,” You shut the door behind you leaving Javi alone again. He sighed heavily, blowing out his smoke. He never got jealous, but you had done something to him.  He initially put the feeling down the worry. He was concerned for you, going undercover was not something you should be doing at all and from the small amounts you had told him it could be more dangerous than you had first thought. But seeing you step out of that car, seeing you kiss the driver, he knew it was jealousy. 

He wanted to have you close all the time, to protect you. You were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, and had shown that on many occasions but the idea of someone else holding you the way he had made him feel sick. That feeling in turn made him angry. He shouldn’t be feeling any type of way towards you, you were a team mate. He was your mentor. 

He’d brought it all on himself, he shouldn’t have ever invited you in that night. He would have to suffer through the feeling until it went away, you could never know.

--

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[alovesongshewrote]

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot:  you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours.  Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads?  (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings:  A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn.  Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N:   if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one.  I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags:   @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real.  It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence.  That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row.  Was it healthy?  Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers.  Answers to what?  Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour.  You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment.  But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast.  By noon, you were ready to collapse.  The three cups of coffee did not help.  Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass.  As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret.  You also love him, and that’s a secret too.  Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity.  Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love.  Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already.  The other half keeps trying to get you together.  It is not working very well.  But that’s all a digression.  What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience.  You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance.  You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass.  You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand.  That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah.  Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out.  The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train.  You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute.  Or at least it felt like a solid minute.  Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)?  You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that?  Like… really cute.  Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling.  Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special.  Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why.  He wasn’t really planning on anything.  Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second.  You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird.  Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up?   Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,”  Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up?  It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet.  That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state.  It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah.   C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,”  you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.  

It was a nice place.  Very cozy, very him.  It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment.  Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it.  Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there.  What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it.  Once again, the boy was a blushing mess.  If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute.  Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter.  While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub.  For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there.  Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian?  That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot.  Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard.  He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess.  Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself.  You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him.  He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true.  At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set.  His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping.  Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you.  He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad.  He was just worried for your health.  Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived.  He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done.  Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you.  It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected.  You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what?  No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over.  You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you.  You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep.  Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him.  Was that your plan?  Maybe.  Was it part of a second, bigger plan?  Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent.  There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do.  Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours.  For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control.  Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction.  You were right, he thought.  He couldn't use magic on you.  As far as he knew, you were a human.  Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly.  If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you.  He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?”  Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting.  Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted.  Just quiet.  You had to face facts.  Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop.  For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please.  I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself.  I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to.  Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute.  It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said.  You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much.  You hadn't.  Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room.  You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay?  I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love.  Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear.  The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah.  I meant what I said earlier, by the way.  You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans.  He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest.  He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me.  You are.  Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders.  Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty.  And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less.  You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again.  It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep.  It was nice, comforting.  You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather.  It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep.  He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face.  He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you.  You looked so peaceful.  Good.  You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did.  After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?”  his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.”  And for once, you were.

[yemilnisu]

I feel you too! when I’m on a road trip, my mind keeps on wandering 🙋🏻‍♀️

Can I request for Iwa? I miss this guy so much 🤧 Hmm.. where his gf is asking him a lot of questions because she saw him with a girl and it bothered her, Iwa became annoyed and it lead to a fight. U can change the scenario if u want hehehe sucker for angst to fluff here. Thank you!

Have a safe trip too!

nisu entries:

hi, bub! I apologize for the late response. I changed it a bit because I’m an idiot and taught that in the timeskip this was Iwa’s job ksjsjs I hope you’ll still enjoy this :>

DOUBT

Synopsis: there’s always something that will make you question your faith to your partner but the question is would the both of you work it out or break it off?

Pairing: gym instructor!iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Having a professional gym instructor as your boyfriend is fun. You get to go to the gym as much as you’d like and you can stay as long as you’d like and you also get a hot instructor to guide you with no fees needed, just give him all your love and affection afterwards and it’s all good.

But there’s always something that you hate about his job. All these girls can take advances towards your boyfriend. Especially this new girl that seems to take her advances to the next level and you watched as your boyfriend seems to enjoy his time with her.

The girl glanced at your direction, scanned you from head-to-toe and leaned towards your boyfriend’s ear and whispered something. The lad seems to become a little flustered for the reason that his cheeks flushed red then he peered to your direction, when you the two of you made eye contact, he weirdly avoided your gaze.

You waited patiently for this last session of his to finish, either listening to some music or simply scrolling through your feed but your mind was wandering somewhere else, whether what the girl’s relationship with your boyfriend was or what they were talking about earlier and right now. You trust your boyfriend with all your heart but the way his cheeks grew the hue of pink, made you question some things...

When the two of you got home, you contemplated on whether you’re going to ask him or not. Thinking he might get mad because that just means that you don’t trust him the same way he does.

But you can’t help it the memory of him blushing because of some other girl seriously made an impact to you. If he doesn’t love you anymore and find other girls attractive, you want to hear it from him.

“Uh, Hajime, who is she?” you asked trying not to sound like the ‘possessive’ girlfriend. You knew that it was his job and that was his client but you just can’t help to hear what she was to him.

“What do you mean?” he replied and quickly putting his attention back to what he was doing. He was arranging his schedule for tomorrow and he needed to finish it as soon as possible because a lot of people wanted to have a training session with him.

“The girl earlier...” you muttered under your breath as you sink into the couch, fidgeting with the hem of your shorts.

Iwaizumi’s gaze didn’t left the screen of his computer when he sighed, “you need to be a little more specific.” He knows you were beating around the bush and in that moment he was a bit irritated about it. Can’t you go straight to the point and tell him what’s on your mind? He’s a little busy you know? He really wanted to finish this ASAP.

You peered at your boyfriend and he side-eyed you, waiting for your response. “The one wearing the cyan sports wear,” you lisped.

“You mean Irina?” he admonished. “She’s the new client. Why?”

“And? Is- is that all? I mean- how would you describe her...?” you stuttered out as you swallow your nervousness to what his answer might be down your throat.

“She’s kinda cool I guess? She’s the funniest client I had,” he gushed. You were about to say something but the ringing of his phone cut you off. He looked at the caller id and answered the phone. “Hello, Irina?”

Iwaizumi stared at you for a second before standing up and walking to the balcony of your shared apartment.

You gawked at his back while he hold his phone close to his ear. Why doesn’t he want you to hear their conversation? Is it that personal? He said she was just his client but why would he be talking about private matters with her? Did he lie to you? Why would he lie to you?

You came back to your senses when he turned around to look at you, you avoided his gaze and stood up to walk to the bedroom. It was 10 pm so you decided to sleep already. You knew he would stay up until late at night arranging his schedule because that’s just how well known he his in this field.

An hour already passed by but you were still awake. Shifting your position every so often, trying to find yourself a comfortable position. But it was not that you’re not comfortable, the bed was soft, the blanket wrapped around you in such a cozy manner and the air conditioner was at the right temperature. Everything was perfect but those were not the reason to your problem, to why you can’t sleep. The problem was your constant overthinking about what happened and what Iwaizumi said earlier.

He said she was cool? And even funny? When a person finds someone funny they’ll get attached to them right? So does that mean sooner or later, he’ll get attached to her? What about you? What will happen to your relationship?

You wanted to talk to him but doing so might be his chance to break up with you. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks and you slowly drifted into slumber.

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was already empty. You didn’t see him sleep beside you nor wake up beside him, it made your heart ache. Your guess is that he already left for work. You were disappointed, did he really forgot what day it is?

When you lift the covers off of you and placed your feet at the floor, the usual cold, hard floor felt soft. You caught sight a trail that is made of red flower petals. When and how did those petals come from? Did you slept at the wrong house?

You followed the trail trying to avoid stepping on anymore petals even though it was soft and the sensation of the sole of your feet with the mushy petals was adequate, you felt bad for stepping on them.

When you reached the end of the trail you were at the living room. There was fairy lights everywhere and the coffee table was full of snacks and sweets you love. There was also a fort made out of blankets and pillow, it looked extremely comfortable that you wanted to lay on them right that instant but there was still a lot of questions on your mind. Who made them?

You felt a presence behind you and you slowly turned around. There stood the culprit holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Happy anniversary!” Your boyfriend beamed. He gave you the bouquet and you confusingly accepted them.

“I thought you forgot- how did you even get them? These are so rare,” you were completely astound as how he got the flowers you were holding. You leaned forward to sniff the bouquet and the aroma from it lingers through your nostrils was so relaxing.

“How could I forget? I spent all night trying to move all the schedules I had today,” he grumbled but he wasn’t mad about having to move them, he was mad he didn’t spend anytime with you yesterday. “I had some help from Irina,” he observed your reaction when he mentioned that name once again.

He knew you were significantly vigilant about the girl. He knew how extra fidgety you were last night and how you sunk into the couch when you asked about her but he can’t tell you anything or it will ruin the surprise. “You see, it turns out that she owns a flower shop and to my luck they have the flowers you adores so much,” he explained.

“Oh? I didn’t know talking about flowers can make you flustered?” you bleated. Iwaizumi was confused for a second but it quickly turned into a smirk.

“Oh, so you were watching,” he snickered. It wasn’t his intention to make you jealous but he’s getting so much amusement from it. He wanted to tease you a little more but he didn’t because he knows that there’s a 50 percent chance it will turn into an argument and he didn’t want to risk it, he didn’t want to ruin you guys’ anniversary.

You bit your bottom lip as you just exposed yourself. Your heart was pounding out of your chest when he answered, “Who wouldn’t? When you’re talking about the person you love.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and tried to observe his expression.

“Yes, dummy. We were talking about you,” he bloated. You can feel the side of your lips arc upwards but you stop it before your boyfriend notices. “She said how lucky I was to have you and how extremely patient you were because you waited for our session to finish. She even said to never let you go because you were the type of girl that is one of a kind,” he elaborated.

You can see that he was sincere. Iwaizumi was never the type of guy to give you long paragraphs or tell you long speeches of how much he loves, he thought that those things are just too cringe for his liking and you completely understood. Even though he wasn’t the type to get cheesy with you he never fails to show how much he loves you.

Like he’ll try to fix his schedule just so he can pick you up and drop you off work, even though you have told him countless of times to not do that, he’s still doing it well you can’t really talk him out of things when he sets his mind to. And when he canceled all of his session for two whole days just so he can take care of you because you weren’t feeling well. That’s how the Hajime Iwaizumi shows affection, your Hajime Iwaizumi.

“And I don’t plan to. I’ll never ever let go of you, Y/n,” he continued, staring deep into your eyes and slowly leaning forward.

“You’re just saying that,” you huffed and shoved him the bouquet. You were completely messing with him. The look on his face when you pushed him away was priceless. His eyes wide open from your sudden rejected and lips slightly parted.

Before you can even take a step away from him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer by the waist. You always knew how to tease him and Iwaizumi doesn’t mind, he doesn’t mind being teased by you. He found it kinda hot, how you can easily piss him off just because rejected his kiss or his hug. Only you have that kind of power and affect on him. “I don’t think so, princess,” he murmured, his voice deep and raspy. He leaned towards your face and kissed you slowly and with so much affection.

This time you let yourself smile. Who knew even after years of dating Iwaizumi never fails to make the butterflies in your stomach go feral.