#i did it!!!

[eggonthemoon]

I walked with you

Once upon a dream

[skatingbi]

When Zoro is shoved out of the gallery by Sanji, his first thought is "What the fuck" and his second is "I really said that out loud".

To be fair, Zoro isn't great with words. For one, he never thinks before he speaks 90 percent of the time. He also simply never saw a chance to compliment anyone, really. Zoro is the epitome of act first, talk later. Always has been, and probably always will be until the day he dies. Until a few seconds ago.

When Zoro noticed the cook's dual toned eyes, too many thoughts surfaced at once for him to decipher all of them. He definitely thought they were beautiful, but he didn't mean to say that sappy shit out loud. Sanji's blue eye was also nearly identical to a shade that some glaciers take on in the North Blue. He vaguely remembers other pirates talking about them here and there. He's never seen them, but if he had to guess what type of blue the ice was, he would think of the color of Sanji's eye.

Now, on the other side of the gallery, Zoro leans against the door. After the reaction he got from Sanji, he's not sure where to go from here. He didn't even mean to say that out loud either. It just... came out. Most of what Zoro says does that, but looking at Sanji in that moment made his brain short circuit, his heart stutter, and his lungs hitch. He felt something he's never put a name on before, and because of that, he didn't question it until after Sanji kicked him out.

Zoro's feelings about Sanji are complicated at best. He used to not think about it, but after this, maybe he should. He runs a hand down his face and sighs. He can feel how warm his cheeks are and knows for a fact that if anyone came in, they'd notice the embarrassingly bright blush he's sporting. So he pushes himself off the door and goes to the crow's nest to meditate, train, sleep, or something that will take his mind off of this.

Meditating doesn't work. Neither does training, or sleeping, or keeping a safe distance away from Sanji. In fact, Sanji is actively avoiding him. Has been for the past few days. That wouldn't be out of character for the blond on a normal day, but it's more frequent. Sanji actively kicks the swordsman out to do the dishes himself instead of letting him dry them like he usually does. It's fucking confusing. Zoro can understand insecurity if the main problem about this whole situation is that. He's no stranger to it. The issue, though, is that Sanji's eyes are gorgeous to him, and Sanji doesn't see it. He's just trying to understand why.

A few more days pass by like that. The crew, especially Nami and Usopp, notice. Only Nami makes it known that the crew is very much aware of the awkward shift in Zoro and Sanji's dynamic. It's made especially clear when Nami corners Zoro while he's about to fall asleep on the deck.

"Alright, spill the beans." Nami demands with her hands on her hips and an eyebrow raised. Zoro only opens one eye to acknowledge the redhead in front of him, who's blocking the sun, and it makes Zoro mildly agitated.

"What do you want now, witch, I'm trying to sleep."

Nami rolls her eyes, "I know you're dense, but you're not stupid." She huffs a sigh and bends at the waist over Zoro to glare at him. "You and Sanji have been weirder than usual. Fighting is one thing, but ignoring each other for days is unusual, even for you two." Nami explains.

Zoro rolls his eyes. Sure, him and the shit cook haven't talked, but that's none of anyones business. Let alone Nami's. For all he knows, she could just blackmail him with the embarrassing ordeal of being known. He'd honestly rather not, thank you very much.

"Fuck off, Sanji's the one ignoring me. Let me sleep in peace." Zoro argues back and closes his eyes, resting his arms behind his head to hopefully fall asleep while he still can.

Nami groans in frustration. Okay, fine. If those two idiots want to ignore each other, then she'll let them. It's not like it's any of her business anyway. She just has a bet to win against Usopp, and she's not above changing the stakes to be in her favor. She just has to wait a little longer.

Some part of Nami suspects that Sanji is avoiding Zoro because of something deeper, more personal than just their usual fights. She's willing to bet money that their weird little spat is based on this. She doesn't have evidence. She just has a feeling, and usually, it's right. What's that saying again? Always trust a woman's intuition? With this knowledge in mind and with an ulterior motive, she leaves Zoro alone to have a gay crisis in peace.

What Sanji and Zoro don't know, though, is that she already knows Sanji has heterochromia, and she also doesn't give a shit. She noticed when sanji was too drunk in skypiea while dancing with the wolves, and to be honest, she's surprised no one else even noticed. This knowledge has led her to believing that Zoro said some stupid shit about it. Go figure.

Zoro goes back to trying to sleep. Behind closed eyelids, he can still see a pretty icy blue eye hidden by long blond hair. He wants to see that again. Directly after that thought, though, Zoro suddenly has an epiphany. An almost life changing realization that will most likely fuck him over in the near future. It's laughable how he's never realized it given the past few days.

Zoro likes him.

Sanji and Zoro, for lack of a better word, dance around each other for the next few days. If someone asked Sanji why didnt they just go back to how they normally did things, he couldn't answer them. He can't answer them because he knows that the real issue isn't his eyes. It's what they mean to him.

Sanji is a sentimental man. All of the things people have given him are kept one way or another. He has a drawer in his kitchen for the small trinkets or rocks Luffy finds. He still has that dial Usopp let him keep. He keeps recipe books given to him by Robin on the counter away from the sink. He even kept Nami's hairtie despite nearly snapping it the other day.

There are other things he's kept, too. Franky's things aren't really trinkets, but that doesn't mean they aren't important to him. Franky once gave him a gag gift of matching sunglasses, and he refuses to wear them. They're still tucked into one of the drawers in the dresser next to his bunk. Chopper and him share spices since they're multi use, and it means a lot to him to have his safe space also be useful for others in the crew. He loves being given things, no matter how small they may be.

When his mother died, the first thing he wanted to do was gouge out his eye. When he thinks back on it, the only reason why he couldn't is because he was scared. What small 10 year old wouldn't be? Now, although he loves his eyes deep down, he still runs away by hiding them. It's a gift that he hates, but deep down cherishes like it'll get stolen from his grasp one day.

He's aware that he processes grief by running away until it catches him on a warm, sunny day. Lately, that's exactly what it's done. Grief is hunting him, and he's the deer being shot in the leg so he's unable to run. Refusing to look into a mirror does nothing to stop it.

So, yeah, Sanji is ignoring Zoro. He knows why he's ignoring the moss ball. That doesn't mean Zoro will let him, and he's pretty sure the swordsman is going to corner him eventually. Sanji just needs to stall for time.

But that's not the only reason why he's avoiding him.

"Marimo, I swear to god, if you don't get out of my kitchen, I'm gonna shove my foot up your ass!" Sanji is not in the mood for this. Zoro knows Sanji is not in the mood for this. Will this stop Zoro from getting in the cook's business? Absolutely not.

"I'd like to see you try, curly brow, now shut the hell up and let me dry the goddamn dishes." Zoro huffs as he pushes Sanji out of the way with his hip. Sanji delivers a swift kick to his leg as retaliation.

"Fuck you I can do it myself!"

"Well fuck you because I'm gonna do it anyways!"

"Gods, why are you so insufferable!?"

Now, here they are, with Sanji being forced to let Zoro dry the dishes while he washes them. Sanji keeps a reasonable distance away with a cigarette in his mouth, exhaling smoke through his nose occasionally. Zoro tries (and fails) to not let his eyes wander to Sanji. The cook's eyebrows are scrunched, and his mouth is downturned. The cigarette hangs loosely from his lips as he silently works.

Once Zoro actually realized a few weeks ago he liked Sanji in a (probably) romantic way in some form, it was hard for him to not stare. Zoro never felt attraction to someone like that. He's definitely thought some people were handsome, but that's about as far as it went. Looking back, Zoro thinks that maybe he always thought Sanji was good looking. The swordsman couldn't help but look at all the things that made Sanji his own unique person, handsome, and especially pretty. It's not like he would say that out loud, though. He'd rather attempt to fight Mihawk again than say all that shit out loud to anyone.

Zoro's prolonged silence makes Sanji fidget in place, leaning side to side on each foot, while he washes the last dish. After that his cigarette is nothing but the filter and he snubs it out on the ashtray nearby. To combat the nervous energy, Sanji washes his hands and uses his hip to shove Zoro so he can grab the towel he uses to dry his hands. He's earned a glare by the swordsman, "Oi, the fuck is that for, cook? You wanna fight?" Zoro challenges, and Sanji would be a fool to say no.

"Bring it on, shitty swordsman!"

On the deck of the sunny and in the middle of their routine fights, another tragic incident has occurred: Sanji's hair is in his way. Not only that, but Zoro decides to take advantage of it. The blond isn't sure what Zoro gets out of wanting to see something that Sanji would rather keep hidden, but he'll be damned if he lets Zoro win.

Zoro, the conniving bastard, keeps getting into his blind spot. Or at least trying to because Sanji knows better, and he's sailed with Zoro long enough to recognize the little hints when he fights. Zoro's right foot shifts to his left, but his arm holding wado twists minutely, and it's barely noticeable, except Sanji knows he can block this with a kick.

Zoro uses the blunt edge of his sword to strike, and it lands on Sanji's left shin, raised high enough for him to take advantage of his flexibility. Sanji looks into Zoro's eyes with a challenge, and Zoro grins. Not the scary one he reserves for their enemies, though. There's a subtle crinkle on the corners of his eyes and this smile feels genuine. Were those dimples? He never noticed those before.

Huh. Thats new.

Wait. Why is Zoro looking at him like that? Like he's exciting and interesting? That's the only time Zoro smiles like that: when something is worthy to devote his full attention to. It does something to Sanji. It's the same feeling he had when Zoro told him his eyes were beautiful. Sanji's footing falters, and he nearly stumbles gracelessly to land on two feet. Zoro huffs out a sound suspiciously like a laugh and takes a step closer, sheathing his sword in the process.

Sanji takes a step back, but Zoro is zeroed in on a mission he's determined to complete. He slowly walks forward until their faces are inches away, and he raises his hand slowly.

The blond holds his breath, not moving and looking right at Zoro. Like tunnel vision only on the hawklike golden eyes before him. That feeling is back, too, and it's stronger with how close they are suddenly. Sanji wonders if the rest of the crew are out on the deck as well, but the only thing he can hear is Zoro's labored breathing from their fight and the way the wind makes his earrings hit together. A soft melody of chimes and ocean waves.

He needs to get his shit together.

"Get the fuck out of my face, Moss." Sanji orders through gritted teeth. He could back away, kick the swordsman like he usually does, but his feet feel like theyre nailed to the floor. Zoro doesnt move. Neither does he.

Well, his legs dont move. His hand does. Zoro's scarred knuckles show a gentleness that almost makes Sanji shiver. A tall, muscular, scarred swordsman capable of displaying softness similar to somebody holding priceless art made of glass. That's how Zoro brushes his hair away from the cook's face oh so slowly, dragging it out and tempting Sanji to either kick the shit out of the man or do something he might regret. He almost wants to lean into the touch and relish in it. He's never felt gentleness like this before, and it terrifies him deep down where the subject of his trauma lies.

Zoro takes in Sanji. His skin is somehow still pale despite the days in the harsh sun, the only evidence being the freckles decorating his hooked nose, cheeks, and part of his forehead. What Zoro cares about the most, though, is his eyes. Finally, at the risk of displaying a side of him he never thought he had, he can take in the pretty brown and blue eyes that he's thought of for the past few weeks. He doesn't miss the uncertainty the cook displays through the confused arch in his dark curly brows and parted lips.

There's a lot of silence, which is uncharacteristic of them. They've never gone so long without talking before unless one of them was in a coma. Sanji's just about to escape via insults and physical violence until-

"Huh, your eye is kinda like those glaciers in the North Blue." Zoro mumbles, a quiet baritone that vibrates in Sanji's chest despite the only point of contact being the back of a calloused hand on his cheek. Suddenly he feels lightheaded and warmth on his face, spreading to his ears to make them uncomfortably hot.

Sanji's face is somehow ever prettier when he's blushing, and that shocks Zoro out of his thoughts enough to pull away and attempt to make a beeline for the crow's nest. Sanji stares for one, two, three seconds, and then delivers a swift kick to the back of Zoro's knees as soon as he turns around.

"You...you fucking dumbass swordsman! You fucking pervert! Shut the fuck up or I'm gonna kick your fucking ass into the ocean!"

"Hah?! What the hell, shit cook!?"

Now what the actual fuck. Thats twice, fucking twice now that something Zoro said or did made Sanji a fucking inconsolable mess in the weirdest most cliche teenage romcom novel kind of way. What the fuck. How was this happening? Why is he so flustered, and why is it because of that brute?

Sanji always thought he was straight. Women are pretty. They're gorgeous, empathetic (most of the time), graceful, with pretty skin and soft curves. He always appreciated that in women, and he most likely will until the day he dies. Zoro isn't any of those things. He's emotionally intelligent, sure, but you couldn't get the dumbass to take his own advice even if you held him at knife point. He's not soft, he's rough around the edges, with a stern expression even in his sleep. His smile is almost always weird as fuck (except for the one he gave him recently) too. The swordsman only cares about swords and alcohol, but you could probably add rice balls to that list too. Zoro is the epitome of sharp and rugged.

In conclusion, the only similarity between Zoro and women is that Zoro has big tits somehow. No, he is definitely not focusing on that now while making dinner.

The more Sanji thinks about Zoro, though, the more he thinks back to that fucking look. When Zoro brushed his hair away from his face and admired him. He fucking admired him for gods sake. Either Sanji is high as fuck or he's having a nightmare because nobody has ever looked at him with that kind of raw emotion before, not even women he flirted with.

Okay, so maybe there's more to him than meets the eye. That doesn't mean he likes the idiot. Maybe he just needs to learn to take a compliment.

As he thinks about this, he sets the kitchen table and portions out the penne alla vodka for all of the crew members. There's a bottle of sake for Zoro, and because he's feeling... a lot, Sanji allows himself a glass of wine today. As he's deciding between a red or white wine, Luffy barges into the kitchen.

"Sanji! Is food done?!" Luffy asks, practically bouncing towards Sanji excitedly. The captain's loud voice startles Sanji out of his thoughts and he jumps slightly. He quickly saves face to look at Luffy with exasperation.

"Yes, food's done. Go get the rest of the crew- hey, don't touch that!" Sanji says while swatting away Luffy's stretched arm from Nami's bread, "That's for Nami! I gave you enough already. Go get everyone else before you decide to terrorize the place." He demands to a laughing captain whos already out the door halfway through Sanji's reprimand.

Seconds later, the crew files in. Everyone sits and begins to eat. Chatter between them fills the room, and Sanji preens at the compliments for tonight's dinner.

Everything is normal for a while, and soon everyone finishes their food. Luffy only tried to steal Zoro's food a couple of times and only succeeded once, only because the moss ball let him.

Coming much too soon is dish washing. With Zoro. Sanji's conflicted feelings regarding the man have been making him avoid the target of his confusion the days following "The Incident", as Sanji refers to it, and he's not keen on experiencing whatever the fuck is going on between them again. Only because he doesn't know if he can hold himself together if Zoro looks at him like that once more.

It's silent for a few minutes. The repetitive motions soothe him, and Sanji lets his mind wander to mundane thoughts. As he chews on the filter of an unlit cigarette, he thinks of some tasks he needs to do this week. Inventory should be done tomorrow. Ask Nami how long until the next island, and maybe he should-

Zoro clears his throat, and for a moment, he thinks it was just Zoro being Zoro. He's probably trying to annoy him. Yeah, fat chance this time. Anyways, maybe-

"Cook," and Zoro looks at him, putting the plate he just dried down and placing his hands on the counter, "Why're you hiding?" He asks, and Sanji doesn't look at him. Zoro's eyebrows angle slightly in confusion.

Zoro left that question open ended on purpose. He knows Sanji well, or at least he likes to think he does, so asking directly would just make the cook confrontational. Hell, even a vague question would, too.

"What the hell are you talking about, marimo?" Sanji scoffs. Yeah, just as Zoro figured.

"You know what, and I ain't gonna spell it out for you," Zoro leans forward, looking at Sanji even though he tries tilting his head down and away from zoro's perceptive gaze, "Cmon, curls, I need to know if I overstepped. You may be a pain in my ass but I'd never hurt you." Zoro explains, and what the fuck.

Sanji has been asking himself that a lot lately. Yet he doesn't know how to reply to Zoro. All he knows is "You...Dumbass, you make me feel. You make me feel," He whispers like they're the only ones on the ship, "And I dont like it." He finishes.

He has no clue if it's the truth. Hell, earlier today, he was having a sexuality crisis over the man before him. Neither does Zoro. They both look at each other until Zoro looks away with resignation. "Okay." He whispers back.

Sanji learns quickly that he doesn't like that look on Zoro's face.

[rednite-dork]

waiting for a date?

[ctnplant]

cytham week: day 7 - valentine's day

[bubblegumflavor]

More Pumpkin!Daniel, this time for the @allvalleyskillschallenge Prompt: Trick or Treat! =D🎃🧡

[notsosecretlyalesbian]

"Oh, so it's about money? 'Cause I can stretch a budget like a big headed baby stretches a…"

Lisa Ann Walter as Melissa Schemmenti in Abbott Elementary | 02×04: Principal’s Office (1/2)

[ian-galagher]

TAG GAME WEDNESDAY (sssh)

I was tagged by some lovely people! 🤗🧡 Kat @mybrainismelted Kaka @stocious Evie @energievie Comet @spacerockwriting Nosho @creepkinginc Alice @spookygingerr Sky @transmurderbug Michelle @michellemisfit Georgia @iansw0rld Lem @depressedstressedlemonzest Julia @blue-disco-lights Becki @francesrose3 🤗🧡

Name: Willow

Age: in the middle bit

First Pet? a tiny Russian hamster

First Word? mama, but I think my mum made that up 😂

First Celebrity Crush? not really a crush but I admired Val Kilmer and Sarah Michelle Gellar a lot when I was younger

First IRL Crush? I never really had a crush but I would root for my friends SO hard and try to get them hooked up 😂

First kiss? while on holiday in France I was swimming under water and this boy started to race me, turned around mid swim and, while under water, planted his mouth on mine. I was so shocked I opened my mouth, swallowed a liter of water and choked. it was very romantic 😂

First Car? ehm it's grey 😂

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? a converted garage of a lovely family who promised me we'd have dinner some time and we never did 😂

First time on a plane? South Africa. I got sooo sick 😂

First cellphone? a Nokia brick type thing 😂

First concert? Wir Sind Helden

First Foreign country you visited? France or Austria, we went around Europe a lot when I was younger

First sport you ever played? I tried everything and hated all of it

First career aspiration? a writer 😂

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow" I drew a potato like creature called Quickie that I was really proud of 😂

I'm soooo late but if you haven't yet, you're hereby tagged! 🤗🧡

[artisthedgehog]

i just finished this winter which means i finished all of alice's books what am i supposed to do now?????? huh?????????????

[fourmula1]

summer of cum day 31: handjobs

max/daniel. 469 words. after spa.

-

“Cardio and wrist training, huh?” Daniel asks, laughing into the kiss Max plants on him as soon as they’re alone in the cabin of Max’s plane. “Wanna get started now?”

Max laughs, too, and bites at Daniel’s lip as he tugs at Daniel’s hips to get him to climb over and straddle Max’s thighs.

“Shut up,” Max says as he slides his big hands up Daniel’s back beneath his t-shirt, pulling Daniel in closer as he kisses him deeper.

As soon as they were able to get out of the track they were whisked away to Max’s plane for the short trip back to Monaco, and Daniel was grateful for the fact that no one else was flying with them; just the crew, who knew well enough to mind their business and leave them alone. Daniel always appreciated their discretion.

Especially right now because Max’s hand is slipping into Daniel’s shorts and squeezing his ass, and Daniel can’t help but to roll his hips down against Max’s for a brief moment of sweet friction, before Max is urging him to lift up a bit to get Daniel’s shorts down enough to free his dick and curl his hand around it.

“Wrist training,” Max smirks into the kiss, Daniel shuddering as Max drags his hand slowly, slowly, slowly up and down Daniel’s dick. Max knows perfectly well what Daniel likes, how tight to hold him, where to press his thumb, and Daniel whines as he pulls back to look down at the way Max is touching him.

He sighs as he drops his forehead to Max’s shoulder, watching Max jerk him off and loving it. It’s comfortable and safe and happy and hot knowing that Max just. Wants to touch him. Still. Always. Still.

After years, and Daniel getting older and greyer and with more crinkles around his eyes. He loves Max, and he knows Max loves him, and he stopped feeling weird or worried about the idea of Max moving on to someone hotter or younger a long time ago now. They’re it. Daniel knows.

Thinking about it is maybe what makes him come faster than he normally would from just a handjob, but he gasps a moan as he spills over Max’s hand, rocks his hips as he rides it out, meets Max in another kiss when Max’s freehand cups his jaw to lift his head and bring their lips together.

“Fuuuck,” Daniel groans, biting at Max’s lip. “You’re so good,” he says, shuddering a bit with the aftershocks as Max lets him go, reaches for the discarded warm towel he’d received upon boarding, and cleans his hand.

Daniel’s still straddling Max, dick out and soft now, but he doesn’t care, just kisses his man and wraps is arms around Max’s neck to kiss him deeper, more, more.

[baronessblixen]

O Holy No (10/10)

Today's prompt: elf on the shelf proposal

Summary: It's Christmas morning. (wc: 1,152)

Tagging @today-in-fic

“Mr. Mulder is Santa!” A child screams, and then a chorus breaks out, and someone tugs at Mulder's sleeve while another child jumps up on the couch with him and Scully. What a way to wake up.

“What is going on?” he asks groggily, staring into a young child’s face. Freckles, red hair, and a very familiar nose. She must be a Scully, but he’s forgotten her name.

“Santa came,” the girl says in awe. “I think,” she trails off, taking a deep breath, “I think he brought a bike.” Mulder’s heart swells watching how excited the child is. Maybe one day he and Scully... he doesn't have the time to think of what if's and possibilities, because this girl isn't done interrogating him.

“Are you really Santa?” she asks him, her expression showing the familiar skepticism.

“Maybe,” he says and the girl’s eyes grow wide.

“He’s not Santa,” one of the older kids says. “He’s Aunt Dana’s boyfriend.”

“Auntie Dana is married to Santa Claus!”

“Hey Scully,” Mulder says, while the kids start looking through the gifts, the adults filing into the living room, not even half as excited as their offspring. “Did you hear? We’re married now.”

“Hm?” She’s barely awake, cracking open an eye. How she slept through all this is a mystery to him. She can sleep anywhere, anytime – and through everything. It makes him fall in love with her just a little bit more. After last night, he didn’t think that was possible. The gift she gave him means more to him than he could put into words. And then there was what she said to him. I love you. She said it, the three small words. The jury is still out on how they’ll cope once they’re back in the real world, away from this candy cotton-flavored fairytale they’re living. But he’s hopeful. He’s a believer.

“Let’s get some coffee, hm?” Mulder helps her up and leads a sleepy Scully into the kitchen where they meet Mrs. Scully.

“Good morning, you two.” She and Mulder exchange a smile, Scully goes straight for the coffee. “Do you have any idea who did this?” Mrs. Scully asks and points at the kitchen table where an elf sits with an engagement ring in his hand. She’s looking at him as if waiting for him to admit that he’s the one who put it there, ready to ask Scully for her hand in marriage. For once, he's completely clueless.

“Um,” is all that he gets out. Scully, now with a cup of coffee in her hand, joins him and almost chokes.

“Mulder?” she asks, her voice squeaky.

“No,” he says quickly. “It wasn’t me. I swear.”

“It was me,” Bill says, walking into the kitchen with Matthew in his arms. Both father and son look like they didn’t get much sleep. “I had some help from my own little elf, right, Matty?” The boy grins up at his father.

“You’re already married,” Scully says

“I know, but I-” he trails off when Tara walks into the kitchen. Mulder just watches the two of them, a smile appearing on his face. “There she is,” Bill says, reaching for her hand. Tara comes cheerfully, giggling, and exchanging looks with the rest of them.

“What is happening here? Why is our elf on the shelf holding a ring? Bill?”

“Tara Scully, I want to ask you to marry me – again. We had to get married so quickly last time because I was leaving. This time I want us to have the big wedding you always dreamed about. Our son will be there, and our families. What do you say?”

“Oh, Bill.” She throws herself at her husband and her son who squeals in delight. Mrs. Scully, teary-eyed, joins in. Mulder pushes Scully towards her family and she goes willingly. He just watches the moment, glad he was able to witness it.

“That is the best Christmas gift you could have given me,” Mulder hears Tara whisper, crying openly. He wants to quietly slip away, thinking he should leave them alone now. Someone grabs his arm and to his surprise, it’s not his Scully.

“I’m hoping you’ll be there, too. When Tara and I get married,” Bill says. “As my sister’s date.” Mulder swallows hard and nods.

“I’d love that. Congrats, by the way.” Bill gives him a handshake and a nod. Maybe one day they will manage a hug. Looks like this won’t be the last time he’s present at a family event.

“So,” Mulder says later, with Scully tugged into his side on the couch, the Christmas celebrations going on around them. “Your brother invited me to his wedding.”

“He did.”

“It was a cute proposal.” He’s not going to ask her any time soon. Or maybe ever. He knows he wants to spend the rest of his life next to her. They don’t need the party or the paper. “Hey, maybe at the wedding we can investigate the case of the stolen purple dildo.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Scully chuckle.

“You’re not going to give up on it, are you?” she asks him, her head against his shoulder.

“Have you ever known me to give up?” he jokes, but when she turns to him, she’s serious.

“No,” she says. “I haven’t. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you.”

“What are the others?” He’s grinning. He can’t stop. If he could, he’d preserve this moment in time. As if reading his mind, Mrs. Scully and her new digital camera find them. She’s smiling when she asks him to sit still so she can take a picture. Mulder puts his arm around Scully and grins. This is the first of many. Maybe he’ll frame it and put it up, too. Just like his picture of Samantha.

A part of him will always peek into the past, remembering his little sister. But he can commemorate this too. His and Scully’s love; a slice of happiness. He doesn’t know what’s to come, but he’s ready for it. Scully smiles at him, kisses his cheek, and giggles, mumbling something about him being scratchy. And Mulder laughs, too, the happiness just bubbling up inside of him.

Tomorrow they’ll face the world again. Mulder knows he’ll have to talk to Diana. Make her see and understand that all he’s interested in is her friendship. If she won’t listen, he’ll let her go. While spending the day with Scully and her family, Mulder gets an email with a possible new case. He shows it to Scully and he sees the interest flicker in her eyes. But that’s for later. He shuts off his phone and Scully raises an eyebrow.

“The only person I’d want to hear from today is currently giving me an adorable look.” She kisses him, laughing against his lips.

This is, without a doubt, his favorite Christmas ever.

[thepinkhippoinhungryhungryhippos]

heyo!! can i ask for a little angst for the bp LIs 😌 scenario isss: mc has a very dangerous job (like a spy or smth) but doesn't say anything abt it. one day, they're sent on a mission that goes bad and they're heavily injured to the point where they go into a short coma. when they wake up, they have to tell their lover the truth. how do the LIs react??

ty!! stay hydrated bestie <33

warnings: guns, injuries/broken limbs, blood violence, hostipals/doctor's office notes: idk why this took me so long, i was STRUGGLING but i do like how it turned out. i only did owl and toast, might write quest and xyx's parts later. sorry about that and the wait, and ty for requesting this amazing prompt and being so patient @gabinggabi have a lovely day hope you enjoy <3

despite it all

a single lightbulb flickered inside a concrete basement. the only sounds present were the near-silent noise of your breathing and steps across the floor. sweat dripped down your forehead as you held your pistol close to your chest. the air was so thick you could cut through it with a knife.

your goal was to free a hostage from their holder. the building was surrounded, however you were the only one inside the building. it was truly a solo mission, and a stealth one at that. you would be alright, you thought. you were a professional after all.

keys began to turn in the door. your heart nearly jumped out of your chest, diving behind whatever large object you could find.

unfortunately for you, this particular room had a corner mirror. before you knew it you were pinned to the wall by a surprisingly tough, scrawny man, no older than 30.

he kicked you in the chest, before taking your gun from you. he used it to strike you in the face before aiming it at you, backing you into the wall.

your ribs ached and your body was bruised, cheek already turning red and nose bleeding.

you wracked your brain for something, anything you could do to gain the upper hand. anything to get away, preferably with the hostage. they were the priority here, as soon as they escaped your team could rush into the house and apprehend the criminal.

unfortunately, things were not going so well.

you doubled over as the kidnapper shoved his knee into your stomach, before elbowing you directly on the back of your head.

black patches were beginning to cloud the sides of your vision. your ears were ringing. you fell onto your knees, desperately gripping into the criminals leg in an attempt to do some sort of damage.

your efforts were fruitless however. the criminal proceeded to press his foot down on your arm. you could feel it crack. he pulled back, before kicking you in the side, wringing a pained groan from you. you could taste blood and your head screamed at you.

almost mercifully, he put you out of your misery, whacking you in the head with the pistol once again, finally knocking you out.

black consumed your vision, both a pain and a relief as footsteps faded away, followed by the slamming of a door.

you woke with a start, looking this way and that. panic set in. what happened? did you end up catching the criminal? was the hostage okay? where were you?

it smelled of hand sanitizer and disinfectant. the overhead lights were bright enough to cause a headache. everything in your field of vision was a stark white. you were in a hospital.

on second thought, everything was white, except for your partner on the chair next to your bed.

— nakedtoaster

you blinked as it set in. something went wrong. you were in the hospital, your arm broken, your head aching, and bruises all over. and toasty was there.

you had no idea how long you had been out. god, you hoped it hadn't been that much time. but no matter how long it had been, your boyfriend was there, still; and if their state told you anything, it was that they hadn't left your side since you were checked in.

despite all the circumstances, a smile found it's way to your face.

"dear?" you spoke. or, more correctly, tried to speak. your voice sounded croaky and quiet, like it had been through a grater.

he jolted awake, foggy eyes darting around the room before landing on you.

eyes suddenly clear as day, their mouth hung open.

"Y/N?!" they shouted.

he immediately dove for your hand, holding it in his own and checking your pulse with the other, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"oh, fuck! i should call a nurse," they laughed; a delighted, shocked, lovely laugh.

"toast, i—"

BANG! a nurse comes into the room, drowning out anything you were going to tell them.

after hours of tests and waiting and resting you finally got a moment alone with your partner.

it felt like it had been forever. actually, you had been told it was only a few days that you were out. but hell if that had a baring on how you felt.

speaking of how you felt... well. there was a lot on your mind, to say the least.

you had just woken up from a short coma after a failed rescue mission, all types of injured and wounded. there was no logical way that you could have rescued the victim. your medical bills would be through the roof. but most of all, you didn't know how to even begin to explain this to toasty.

as they say, there's no time like the present. because in the present, he was asking you what's on your mind.

"honey? you alright?" they gently asked again after you failed to respond the first time.

"ah, um. well," you started, throat feeling much better than before.

"i haven't been... entirely honest about my career." you admitted shamefully, refusing to meet their eyes. this wasn't how you wanted them to find out.

he raised his eyebrows, silently prompting you to continue.

"i am — was? — a... vigilante of sorts. it was organized, not just some hobby. i was paid, full time obviously." you took a breath in. you were avoiding what you clearly needed to talk about. you exhaled.

"that's why i wound up here. usually i never get injured like this! this was the first time that a hospital was necessary," you realized every word that left your mouth sounded worse and worse.

"i swear i just, i got careless and—" your breath hitched when you look up to your lover's face.

their eyes were filled to the brim with tears, a few spilling down their cheeks as they inched closer and closer to you, so clearly wanting to embrace you but struggling to do it in a way that wouldn't hurt you.

the sight was enough to break your heart.

you couldn't resist stepping in, leaning your head on his shoulder as you felt sobs begin to wrack their body. you wrapped your free arm around them, holding them as tight as you could.

they went to place their hand in several different spots before resting on the back of your head, pulling you closer. they pressed their lips to the crown of your head in a sweet kiss.

you stood like that, holding each other for a long while before having a seat on the bed.

"i should start from the beginning of the mission that caused, you know," you gestured to yourself, "this."

you began to painfully explain what happened to you, each memory like pulling teeth for the both of you.

once you finished your recollection (after going on several tangents), you braced yourself for the worst. you knew he would never yell or fight, but somehow silence seemed worse. you couldn't help but fret.

"i love you, and i was so so so scared. god, i am so glad you're okay." they breathed, each word dripping with emotion.

"...well, as okay as you can be." he added with an entertained glint in his eye and a huff. it was very like him.

all your worry was for naught.

sure, you would need to talk more about this. it would take time. but it was okay. you were okay.

time had passed, you broke down, but nothing had changed.

you still had each other.

— nightowl

your boyfriend was bouncing his leg anxiously, face resting on his hand as he stares off into space. it was clear he hadn't slept well, if at all, for who knows how long.

something had went horribly wrong, and he was fretting over what he didn't know. things you might not even know. you had to do something. you went to reach your hand out towards him, before realizing you had an IV drip.

"babe?" you managed to call before breaking into a coughing fit. it was as if your throat had dried like paint on a wall.

owl watched, eyes open just as wide as his mouth. not word left him, only a long stretch of uncanny silence.

nurses rushed in, but his silence was the loudest thing in the room.

test after test followed check up after check up before you finally could rest.

rest, and finally see your boyfriend.

thin white sheets lay over your body, arm in a cast and bandages wrapped around several separate injuries.

after the quiet of your waking, you could not be sure how he would react. you knew he loved you no matter what, but you couldn't help but imagine the worst. your mind raced, spiraling and spiraling, until—

the door opened with a click, and just like that nightowl was on top of you, squeezing you so tight you could feel all of your injuries and bruises resurfacing.

"Y/N!" he wailed, hot tears seeping into your robe.

"i, i was so worried," he let out between sobs.

you pat his back as well as you could before groaning out a small "my ribs..."

he immediately jumped back, cupping your face and turning it this way and that to make sure no bruises were there before pressing an overeager kiss to your lips. your teeth clashed together, before breaking apart into laughter.

"you're okay," he gasped.

"i'm so relieved." he teared up again, taking your (not broken) hand in his.

you brought it to your lips, giving the back of his hand a gentle kiss. his mushy smile grew, before immediately forming a frown.

"and i'm so mad at you! why didn't you tell me something was wrong? that you were in danger?" he half-pleaded, half lectured, voice a perfect combination of sternness and desperation.

now your eyes were teary, squeezing his hand.

"i..." you started, struggling to find the words.

owl gave an encouraging hand squeeze back.

you began an explanation, starting with your real job and going through how you got injured. owl nodded along, intertwining your fingers part way through.

by the end he was crying again.

"why... why didn't you tell me?" he asked. he sounded more tired and understanding than anything else.

"i didn't want you to worry." you mumbled, realizing how silly you sounded. and boy, did he make sure you knew it as he lectured you.

you pulled him down to the bed, a grin on your face. he was still himself. you kissed his cheek, giggling as he stopped talking and turned pink.

"i love you. thank you for worrying about me and... for being here." you smiled, stroking his hand with your thumb.

"of course i was here!" he exclaimed, as if you just thanked him for breathing.

"i love you more." he said, finally relaxing into your touch.

[togethernow]

Drawing practice with the Paddler (ft. DJ Yellow and Emu for some reason)

[untilsfe]

Usagi Yojimtober Day 31 - Silhouette

Stan did a contest of carved pumpkins this month. I've no talent in that. But I can draw a pumpkin(?)

In other words: I didn't drew a single tokage during the whole month, so, let's give spot and chibi Usagi some spotlight to end this inktober properly.

[happybunnykat]

SUCCESS!!!!

[bubblegumflavor]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN❤️‍🔥🎃💀👻😈 Remember not to mess with the wrong shower!!!

[transboysokka]

winner winner chicken dinner