#i liked his old hair better than the one in inquisition

[dumbbitchgalore]

The Adventures of Old man!Price with an Erectile Dysfunction and his Pathetic Birdie 💞

“Go on birdie, you can touch it.” John encourages tenderly, guiding your hand to rest it on top of his cock.

Trying in push your hand away from embarrassment, John guides toys hand back to his crotch. You look up at unable to watch your own actions, John simply nods allowing your hands to explore him freely without restraint.

Biting your bottom lip, you look back down to inspect his cock. The tip angry and leaking with a prominent vein running along it. You rub the slit, feeling the sticky substance. Curiosity gets the best of you as you decide of lick your finger clean of the pre-cum. Your face scrunches at the taste, earning a deep chuckle from John.

“Guess I need to smoke less to make it taste a bit better, doll face”

You listen to his remark without much thought as you grab his cock and rub his tip on your lips, smearing the pungent pre-cum all over before leaving a kiss on his head. His eyes light up with a glint of mirth, taking in the sight.

One hand wraps around the girth of his cock with the other rest on top of his thighs for support. Your tongue probes his slit, an inquisitive nature brewing inside of you. John hums softly as your actions are taken over by the sweet kitten licks you give his cock head. You pepper his length in fleeting kisses.

“So soft, darling.” You mumble.

John hums as acknowledgment, agreeing with your statement. “That’s what happens when your old, birdie”

“You’re not old…”

“Hm, but my body says otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Is it bad that I like it this way?” You ask innocently.

John chuckles, his voice harbouring a hint of skepticism. “You like it like this, do you?”

You nod, kissing the tip. “It doesn’t look as crazy when it’s all soft and limp like this.”

He smiles, caressing you hair. “Then this is all for you, Birdie.”

You smile softly, continuing your ministrations. Kissing and licking every surface of his cock. Forgetting about your once pleasure, you suckle the tip of his cock filling you with longing for his release. As you continue your assault of lust on him, you see a string of hot, milking liquid dribbling out of his slit like beads.

Deciding you not like it go to waste, you lick it up in its entirety. The smell and taste even more pungent and foul tasting than his pre-cum. However, you’ve realised how precious his seed is akin to the likeness of liquid gold.

You look up with big doe eyes brimming with wonder and affection.

“Can I make you cum again, please?”

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Hi!!! I know it’s only a small idea but I wanted to request something for Emmett based on when he first puts his hand around Evelyns mouth to keep her quiet but instead he does it to the reader to keep her quiet, in whatever scenario you can think of. The way he looked was so hot with that eye contact it had me sweating 🥵

My dear anon, literally no idea is too small for Emmett. This man is so underappreciated it's a crime. I also decided to shoehorn in some inspiration from another one of my favorite snippets of Emmett thirst, which is the gif below of him looking through his rifle sights because hnnnnnnggg. Hope you don't mind ;) Thank you for requesting! <3

Distractions

Pairing: Emmett x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The more time you spend around Emmett, the more distracted you get. And when you finally can't keep quiet about it any longer, Emmett has to take matters into his own hands (heh heh) and make you stay quiet.

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, a whole lot of build-up, close call with a creature, kinda angry sex, quiet sex, biting

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Distracted could not even begin to describe the way you were feeling.

The dim light forced you to squint as you watched Emmett - the scope of his rifle held out just in front of his face as he peered through the sights to scan for potential threats. He took his time, sweeping across the expanse of road stretched out in front of you. Making triple sure that nothing would jump out at you as you climbed down from where you were perched. 

The gun rested firmly against his squared shoulders, and you found your gaze trailing idly from there, down over the line of his arm. Somewhere from off in the distance, a pale yellow light illuminated him just enough for you to make out the soft hair on his forearms. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, but shook your head, chasing the thought away quickly. It wouldn’t do either of you any good if you startled him.

You refocused on his lips, which were parted slightly. In concentration, his tongue darted out to lick at the sliver of space between them. You wished you had something to hold onto and brace yourself with, against the wave of desire that moved through your whole body. 

But, aside from you and Emmett, the only other thing around was an old metal guardrail. And you really couldn’t risk releasing the noise that might hide in its depths. These days, anything that looked even remotely like it might creak was off limits.

A gentle breeze rustled his hair, and he lowered the rifle. He turned briefly to nod at you, once. It was safe. 

No words dared to fill the dark, empty space as both of you stepped carefully over the guardrail. Pausing at the top of the overpass to take one last look at the scene below, you stopped to reflect on the past two days. That was how long you’d been traveling for, and you’d been together with Emmett for only a bit longer.

Although, “together” was the operative word. You had been sticking close to each other, under some quiet but shared understanding that two people were often better than one, at least when it came to things like keeping watch while you camped out in the open, or scavenging for supplies. But he and you weren’t together together, as much as your mind liked to wander and go wild with possibilities. In fact-

Something suddenly caught your attention, and you snapped back into focus again, to see Emmett waving an arm at you. He was standing a short distance in front of you, partway down the hill that connected the overpass to the wide road below. Staring up at where you stood, with an inquisitive look and just a hint of concern in his eyes, half hooded with shadow.

You gave him a thumbs up, and cautiously started to make your own way down the steep hill.

It was early. So early that it was still almost full dark out, and you followed the beam of the flashlight that Emmett held like a beacon. Usually, you weren’t out until after the sun had risen. But last night, neither of you had seemed able to sleep, and so it felt silly to waste time just sitting around when it would be light in a few hours.

You thought you could glimpse the first few streaks of dawn, just barely starting to leak out on the horizon. Goosebumps spread over your skin, in the chilly half-darkness. Emmett had loaned you a checkered bandana, and you reached up to tuck it a little more snugly into the neck of your jacket. The rough fabric brushed up against your chin, and you smiled.

In front of you, Emmett stopped short. You were only a few paces away from him now, and you paused just behind him, before you could bump into the hand he’d extended to stop you.

The hill didn’t sit fully flush with the ground below. Instead, it dropped sharply off at a stone wall, just a few feet above the road.

Emmett kept one hand pressed to his rifle, holding it still as he eased himself down; careful to not make even the smallest noise. You shuffled up to the edge of the wall, ready to follow right after him. As you stooped down, Emmett reached up, offering help.

You accepted it, awkwardly, and let him take one of your hands in his while the other came firmly to rest on the small of your back. As he guided you down, you felt your arms heat up, rapidly chasing away the goosebumps.

You looked at him once your feet were back on solid ground, slightly surprised by the physical contact. Not that it meant anything. Not that it was even anything worth getting excited about. He would probably do the same thing for anyone. He was just being helpful. 

Abruptly, you realized he’d already started to walk away, continuing on the journey that you were both supposed to be focused on. You hurried to catch up, but made sure your footsteps were soft as you followed.

With no opportunities to talk, the time spent traveling felt long. You were both in your own worlds; Emmett focused on scanning for danger, and you, well, distracted by watching him. As usual. 

It was probably best for both of you that Emmett hadn’t yet noticed the way your gaze lingered on him. But, that was just how he’d been, in all of the short time you’d known him. He was observant, and overly anxious to keep an eye out at all times. He seemed almost not to notice anything that wasn’t actively threatening his safety, and that included you.

Streaks of pink started to stretch across the sky, and then blended into the blue of a new day. Finally, it was light enough to see clearly, and you looked around at what was once a small town. You were just passing through, but the devastation that was clearly written across streets, stores, and houses felt unsettling. 

To your left, a sharp, unexpected sound made your blood run ice cold. Emmett froze right along with you, and you both whipped around to watch as an animal scampered away from a trash can, now tipped over and spilling out garbage onto the street.

Litter was the very least of your worries, though, as an all-too-familiar screech echoed across the empty street.

What shit luck. That was the only thought running through your mind as Emmett frantically dragged you by the arm, not wasting even a second more as the creature advanced. It was close by, and you had nowhere to hide. 

Apparently Emmett did, though, as he forcefully shoved you into the backseat of a car. Both of the doors, you noticed, were missing - completely torn off by some previous run-in with these monsters, by the looks of it.

As your back landed against the cloth seat cushions, you felt the wind knock out of your lungs. The soft sound of breath leaving your body was silenced, as Emmett slammed down on top of you, hastily bringing a hand to your mouth.

Your eyes blew wide as his body pressed fully into yours, stealing your breath in a quite different way. A sound caught in your throat, and you swallowed it down, hard. You were not about to get both you and him killed by moaning at a time like this.

His palm pressed down over your nose and lips, and you could feel the heat of your own breath as he stayed there, not focused on you but still scanning, even now, for the monster that sounded like it had finally arrived. The metallic sound of the trash can echoed out on the street.

You moved your head a little, trying to shake out of his almost-oppressive grasp to breathe easier. That finally seemed to get Emmett’s attention, and he looked down with a mix of horror and embarrassment as his hand pulled away. Still pressed tight together, you both shifted your attention to more urgent matters. 

You could still hear that thing wreaking havoc as it searched fruitlessly for the source of the sound. Sometimes you were almost impressed that the creatures could hunt at all, when they were the ones who were making the most noise out of anything. Anything left, anyway. This was a bad case of wrong place, wrong time, but for the most part, anyone who hadn’t learned early on to stay quiet was no longer around to learn.

Emmett’s arms, planted on either side of your head, tensed as his fingers dug into the seat cushions. In any other situation, this would have been pleasant. As things were now, though, you could feel both your heartbeat and his as they pounded together, hard enough to cross the thick barrier of bone and flesh.

The car lurched, and you felt your eyes bug out of your head. The creature was on top of you now, quite literally; you could hear a sharp groan as the car protested under its weight. A series of clicks told you that it was on the offensive, still searching for even the tiniest sound.

Another sharp jerk made you gasp, barely audibly, but loud enough for Emmett to press his rough hand over your mouth again. This time, he was a bit more careful, leaving you room to breathe out of your nose as he pushed his palm down on your lips. But the panic that swarmed in his eyes as you looked up told you exactly how he felt. You both stayed stock still, waiting to see if that little sound had been enough to give you away.

The car screamed even louder as the creature stepped off, lurking its way down onto the street, now on the other side of the vehicle. You stretched your neck to look back, and watched as it swiveled its head side to side. Thankfully not listening in your direction for too long. 

Cautiously, you dared to move just a few inches, wiggling and brushing your hips up against Emmett’s as you tried to make yourself more comfortable. As you did, though, the unmistakable feeling of something hard pressed into your thigh.

You looked up at him, your eyes straining with horror as both of you realized what had just happened. 

Emmett looked even more mortified than you felt; his lips pressed together in a tight line as his eyes seemed to beg for a way out of this. You threw him a panicked, questioning look. In reply, all he could do was reflect the same painful and wide-eyed face, as if to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”

There wasn’t much either one of you could do, however, as in that moment the creature’s head whirled back around with a sharp screech in your direction. You’d been quiet, you thought, although maybe the sound of your breath mixed with Emmett’s as he strained against you was enough to grab its attention again.

You both froze, and you quickly buried your face in his chest, tucking yourself away from the horrible fate that awaited you, as best you could. 

But, after a few harrowing seconds, you heard the creature move on. The sound of its clicks grew more distant as it ran off, still searching for prey.

You let out a huge breath, silently this time, and lifted your head from your hiding place. As you pulled away slightly from where you had curled up against him, you saw Emmett still looking down at you, horrified. You wondered why, for a second, before realizing your fingers were tangled firmly in his belt loops, desperately pressing his hips against yours as you’d braced for your end.

Now, though, that the danger had passed, all you were doing was grinding yourself firmly against his erection. Which had definitely not gone away, despite all the imminent, life-threatening danger.

Emmett’s hand brushed against yours, and your heart skipped, only for him to pry your fingers apart, releasing himself from your death grip. He refused to make eye contact with you; instead awkwardly shuffling out of the car, and facing away as you crawled out after him.

Your heart was still thundering in your chest, maybe even a bit louder than it had been as you were being stalked by the monster. You wished desperately to be able to talk to Emmett; you hadn’t said more than two words to him since you’d set out earlier this morning. That wasn’t unusual, but if there was ever a time when you wished for the ability to communicate, it was right now.

You scanned quickly for any safe space. Now that you had time to actually assess your surroundings, you noticed several buildings with wide open doors. You tugged Emmett’s sleeve, silently telling him to follow you.

He did follow, somewhat reluctantly, and soon you were deep in the relative safety of the stockroom of a small store, your weapons and backpacks cast quickly aside. Someone who had been here before you had taken the time to shove mattresses up against every wall - added protection to muffle any sounds from within. Finally, you could speak.

“Emmett…”

But where could you even begin? Did you admit that you had feelings for him? Would that only scare him away? Maybe scaring him was good; if that was what a little adrenaline had done to him, part of you felt tempted to put him in even more dangerous situations. But, then again, if that’s all it had been, then maybe he didn’t like you at all. At least, not in the way you liked him. As you quietly wrestled with indecision, Emmett took over the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, still not meeting your gaze. “I didn’t mean- I’m… Fuck.”

“Sorry?” you echoed. “What are you sorry for?”

“For…”

Emmett trailed off; his face twisted into a new expression of pained awkwardness. The tension was thick enough to wrap solidly around your ankles, rooting you to the spot where you stood. 

Emmett shuffled, apparently still restless despite the heavy pressure that had settled over the small room. Your whole body felt weighed down, and yet you were still buzzing with the unchecked excitement that always came after surviving a close call. Your veins felt ready to burst.

“Shit, is it hot in here?” you wondered. 

While outside you’d been freezing in the cold morning air, suddenly in here you felt flushed. Maybe Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the adrenaline rush.

You peeled off your jacket, and looked up to see Emmett’s eyes glued to you.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m-”

You cut Emmett off before he could finish his sentence. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” you whispered, a bit more harshly than necessary. “You don’t need to apologize if it’s nothing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emmett sighed. 

“So it’s not nothing?”

“What’s not nothing?” Emmett shot back, exasperated. “The way that I’ve been trying my best to ignore you looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off for the last week?”

You stared back at him with renewed horror. It hadn’t really been that obvious, had it? You had felt certain he hadn’t noticed you staring.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you gasped. 

“Because I didn’t want what just happened to happen!”

“Nothing just happened,” you hissed.

Now you were the one spitting out denials. The oppressive atmosphere grew hotter, and you felt the need to strip off more layers. Not that doing that would be particularly helpful right now.

“Look, Emmett - do you like me?”

You figured that asking him point blank would get you the most direct answer. Instead, he looked at you as if you’d just grown an extra two heads.

And you might as well have, for all the good your current one was doing you. You racked your brain for another strategy, growing increasingly frustrated by the second.

“Do I like you?” Emmett said finally, interrupting your frenzy of thoughts. “What kind of question is that?” “It’s the kind that I’d sure like an answer to,” you replied. “If we’re going to be able to move forward from this, one way or another.”

Emmett glared at you, incredulous, his mouth hanging open as the rest of his face twisted into a look that was hard to read. Just when you thought he was going to turn on his heel and walk out, he took a step closer to you.

In the next breath, he’d grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in, quickly stifling your gasp with his lips.

Kissing Emmett felt like fighting for air, and like having it pumped directly into your lungs. All at the same time, and all scorchingly hot as his lips seared against yours. The torturous days spent fantasizing about this exact moment flashed before your eyes, as you tried to search for some hint that you’d missed to suggest that he felt the same way. Had you really been so wrapped up in your own pining that you hadn’t noticed him struggling, too?

As you both pulled back, you stared at him in shock. Emmett’s eyes were on your lips, too downcast for you to catch his gaze. But finally, they flickered up and lit the spark that had been smoldering deep inside of you. Your fingers tightened over his clothes

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you asked again, feverish. It was a challenge to keep your voice quiet.

“Say anything about what?” Emmett bit back.

You noticed the way his eyes drifted over you, taking in the frazzled and overwhelmed state you were in. That kiss had taken a lot out of you, and you were frantically scrambling to re-collect your thoughts.

“Why torture both of us by pretending that you don’t want the same thing I do?” you clarified.

Emmett’s hands traveled up to your face, cupping your jaw in his palms as he tugged gently, pulling you to meet him again.

“Because I didn’t want any distractions.”

That was probably the most ironic answer he could have given. What had you spent the past few days doing if not being constantly, thoroughly distracted? By him; by the question of whether or not he would notice you, in the way that you found it all but impossible not to notice him?

“That’s so stupid,” you grunted, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You barely resisted as Emmett maneuvered you, swinging you both with your lips pressed together so that he could pin you against a small table. He lifted you up, making you sit on the surface, as his rough hands wandered over your legs.

“Some of us have self control,” he informed you.

“Really? Who?”

His fingers tightened their grip, and you felt thankful that you were already seated. Without the support of the table, you almost certainly would have crumpled against him. Emmett’s waist was between your legs, and you squeezed desperately, not wanting to let him go in case he suddenly got the idea that this wasn’t the time or place.

And it wasn’t, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

Emmett’s hand snaked under your shirt, then your bra, rubbing his thumb against the hard peak that had already formed. You bit his lip, cautiously at first, and then with more vigor as your bodies reacted to the other’s touch. It had been so long since you’d done anything like this, and you felt your legs growing more shaky already.

“Take my pants off,” you gasped, pulling away for a frenzied breath of air.

Emmett deftly popped the button on your jeans; practically growling at the sight of you once he had finally peeled them off. You settled back onto the table, and hooked your legs around him once more. Already wet, you could feel yourself stick to the cloth of his t-shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed, bracing your hands on the table to push closer.

Emmett pulled back, and just as you were about to complain, you felt his hand drift down and brush through your folds. Shivering all over again, you threw your head back.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Emmett muttered, just like you’d thought he would.

“I don’t care. Need to feel you,” you moaned, grabbing his wrist and guiding his fingers right where you wanted them.

You let go, urging him to take over. Despite his reluctance, Emmett seemed all too willing to be pulled along. His fingers sank into you, eliciting a long whine.

“Be quiet,” he reminded you.

But, luckily, the threat of making enough noise to be noticed by whatever monsters were lurking outside wasn’t enough to stop him. He pressed deeper, curling his fingers and brushing the pad of his thumb dangerously close to the bundle of nerves that would almost certainly seal your fate. It was a dangerous game, and every whimper that threatened to escape your lips could be your last, if it was loud enough.

“Fuck.”

Your legs were sore from walking for days, and it hurt as he spread them. It felt good, though; the deep stretch serving to set your imagination on fire with all the possibilities that were unlocking with every twinge of your sore muscles. 

“Emmett.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “I… I want more than your fingers.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned. “You’re already causing enough trouble as is.”

You pouted, but felt something stir inside of you at his words. If you had anything to say about it, you would show him just how much trouble you could be.

“I didn’t realize this was such an- inconvenience for you,” you snapped, voice hitching in the middle as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“I didn’t want you to realize,” he shot back. 

“And yet, look where we’ve ended up. Despite your best efforts.”

The devilish smirk that played out over your lips seemed to make Emmett falter, and you felt him brush against your clit again. You had to bite your lip to stop from screaming.

Teetering dangerously on the edge of destruction only made you more eager to press on. The adrenaline from earlier had started to resurge, and you clung to it, heart beating fast in your ears as you rapidly approached your climax.

“Emmett. Gonna come,” you warned, already out of breath before you began.

Wordlessly, Emmett kissed you again, and you felt yourself explode against him. His thumb traced circles over your clit, somehow feather-light but solid, all at once. You cursed against his lips, maybe a little louder than you should have, but it was too late to take back now. As your high faded, you listened carefully for the shrill screech that would let you know you’d been caught.

It never came, and slowly you allowed yourself to start breathing again. Leaning over you, Emmett pressed his forehead against yours.

“That was way too close,” he complained.

“But worth it,” you hummed. “C’mon. Now it’s your turn.”

Eyes still half-clouded with sex, you struggled for a few seconds to find his zipper. As soon as you’d started to pull it down, Emmett stopped you.

“We’ve barely survived the last hour,” he scoffed. “And now you want me to fuck you?”

“I was just gonna jerk you off,” you lied. “But hey. If you want…”

Emmett’s face turned bright red as he realized the corner he’d been backed into. 

“Come on - you weren’t complaining two seconds ago,” you teased. “Well, I mean, you were. But you seemed into it.”

Emmett sighed, but his shoulders stiffened as you reached past his zipper and took hold of him. He was definitely still into it.

You slid off the table but stayed pressed against it, leaning back slightly as you pulled him out and pressed his head flush to your core. He slipped in easily, already slick with your arousal and unable to resist the pull of your body.

You sighed, and that was enough to make Emmett grab hold of you again, burying himself all the way in with one thrust.

The shock of it was sudden, but you quickly recovered and pulled him in closer, greedily pressing him as far as he could go.

“This is exactly what I’ve wanted,” you hummed, smiling contentedly.

Emmett’s only response was a grunt, as he pushed deeply into you again, dragging his hips back before snapping forward. His hands were holding onto your arms, keeping you steady against the sharp edge of the table. Both of you hung onto each other for dear life.

“Goddamn distracting…” Emmett muttered. It sounded like only part of a sentence, but you didn’t catch the rest. Too wrapped up in the way he was filling you.

Without warning, he pulled all the way out. He flipped you around, bracing your palms against the table, and then sank back in. You felt your walls tighten around him as you moaned, a little louder.

Fingers splayed over the grain of the wood, you clawed at the table as Emmett pummeled into you, picking up speed to match the erratic beat of your heart. Your eyes screwed shut, chasing the pleasure that steadily built in your stomach.

“Shit. I’m gonna come again,” you gasped, already feeling the waves wash over you.

From behind, Emmett’s hand reached around to slap over your mouth, one more time, pulling your head back a little as he continued to rut into you. You made a muffled sound of protest, but he kept going.

You didn’t have long to concern yourself with comfort, as you were quickly overtaken by pleasure. You let yourself give in; surrendering to the feeling that coursed through you, and the way that his hips never stopped snapping up to meet yours, and the rough palm he held over your mouth. Which was fortunate, actually, because without Emmett’s hand stifling your sounds, they almost certainly would have gotten you both killed.

“Mmmf!”

You tried and failed to bite back the cry that threatened to erupt, only halted by Emmett as he succeeded in keeping his hand steady. 

But it was clear he was close behind you. His hips bucked up with far less precision than they had a few minutes ago, and you could feel him tear out at the very last second, leaving you empty.

“Mmm!”

You cried again as you felt Emmett bite down, his mouth clamped onto your shoulder as he came, stifling his own desperate growl. His cum went not into you but all over you, coating the inside of your legs before he could stop himself. Emmett had clearly waited slightly too long to pull out. 

The soft grunt that vibrated through his teeth sent a shiver down your whole body, followed by another as he rubbed himself into the mess that was now dripping between your legs. Chasing the feel of your combined lust and the friction of your thighs.

“Self control, huh?” you goaded, once he had finally pulled his hand off of your mouth.

“More than you.”

Emmett’s rough voice was right in your ear, and you felt his chest press into your back, breathing heavy to make up for lost air.

“Well,” you said, a bit breathless yourself. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

Taglist: @cillmequick, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @slut4thebroken

[gloryofroses19]

The Force of a Curl

Major John ‘Bucky’ Egan was hungover, wet and missing a shoe. Hungover because those boys in the 389th challenged him to a drinking contest, wet because his mother stopped pestering him to take umbrellas when he was twelve years old and missing a shoe because of that damned English mud. 

If the boys could see him now, Bucky thought, shaking his head. He could practically hear Curt and Buck’s laugh all the way from the US. 

Sighing loudly as the storm increased, the pilot moved to pick up his shoe. But as his fingers brushed the shoe, the Major was shocked to find that the rain had stopped. No, not stopped he amended noticing the umbrella extended above his head.

“Are you alright, Major?” Asked a feminine voice conveying a mixture of concern and thinly veiled amusement. 

While he had only been at Thorpe Abbots for two days, John Egan recognized the woman before him. Lieutenant [last name] was a notable figure to many. To most on the base, she was the pretty faced WAC lieutenant included in the upper brass briefings. To Bucky Egan, she was a puzzle he wanted to solve. Though their interactions had been limited to a short introduction and shared proximity during meetings, he already knew she was beautiful, smart, calm and confident. Even when facing the asinine questioning of Colonel Huglin. However, this interaction was offering something entirely new… 

Standing to his full height, John ran a hand through his hair. Whether it was because of the rain or self consciousness of being caught in this position by her was something he’d never tell.

“Oh, I’m doing great, Lieutenant. Just enjoying the feeling of the ground.” Shooting her a confident smile despite his sorry state.

“Just with one foot?” Raising an eyebrow, [y/n] struggled to keep the laugh from escaping. “Guess you pilots really do forget what it’s like to be on solid ground. Bit of advice then, try to avoid the puddles. They’re deeper than they seem.”  [y/n] teased as the Major moved to rescue his shoe from the mud. 

“Oh, why didn’t I think of that?” He responded airly feeling his grasp on the situation slip. With no teasing retort brewing on his mind, the pilot was left feeling mollified by the teasing glint in her gaze. 

Raising the umbrella to adjust for the height difference, [y/n] watched transfixed as a stray curl fell in front of his eye. He really was a handsome sight to behold [y/n] mused as his hand brushed hers to take the umbrella from her grasp. 

If anyone were to pass by them, the pair offered the illusion of intimacy and familiarity through their shared laughter and proximity. However, an illusion was just an illusion unless perceptions were altered. 

“You been here long?” Like in any small town, she had heard of the new Major before she met. His singing alone had reached her ears before she entered the pub two nights prior. Though his voice was loud and brash when singing, the deep Midwestern baritone during conversation was far more pleasing. “I hope you’ve fared better with the mud than I have, Lieutenant ''. 

“5 months and yes I have,” [y/n] began before pausing to giggle at a memory, “but two weeks in being here I…”  Looking up into those inquisitive cerulean eyes, [y/n] stopped herself from continuing. Clearing her throat, she reminded herself that he wasn’t just any handsome man, he was a Major. And therefore, it was probably best to not inform her superior of some slight trouble that happened to find her. “Nevermind, sir”. 

Noticing the tone of professionalism that blended into her dulcet tones, John frowned. He had heard this tone before, it was how she responded to him when he introduced himself and when she spoke during the Brass meetings. 

“No, don't give me sir, I don’t want sir. I’m soaked and missing a shoe, rank’s off. Call me Bucky or I’ll even take John.” He liked this version more, because there’s nothing he loved more than someone he could laugh with. Even if it was at his own expense as Bucky Egan wasn’t a man who took himself too seriously. 

“Come on, can’t leave me hanging like that. You’ve seen me at my lowest, it’s only fair that you share as well.” He countered, his determination to get her to smile at him again unwavering. To further emphasize his point, he wiggled his sock clad foot hoping to get another laugh. 

She could see why many were transfixed by the new Major on the base, he carried himself with a genial ease that was both disarming and charming. 

Deciding she might as well dig her own grave, she relented with a sigh. “Two weeks in I got locked in the enlisted men’s mess hall on an unnecessary errand for Colonel Huglin.”

Eyes crinkling in delight, John took in her deadpan delivery that was obviously a pass fake to her underlying embarrassment. “How’d you get out?” John asked in response, knowing it would be a worthwhile story. 

“As the metaphor goes, when one door closes another one opens. Namely a window in the back of the kitchen.” She remarked casually as if any rational person’s first idea would be to climb through a window. 

Laughing in warm boisterous bursts, Bucky’s gaze was unwavering and full of affection and intrigue. 

The implication of his gaze was enough to make any girl flustered, [y/n] included. Deciding to busy herself with pointing in the opposite direction, she hoped to quell the butterflies. “Can I walk you somewhere, Major?” 

“How chivalrous of you.” He responded softly, with a matching grin. Watching the rain drops land on her otherwise pristine uniform, he stepped forward. Leaning closer, he was captivated by the teasing curl of her lips. 

“Well if being one shoe down and soaked doesn’t make you a damsel in distress then I’m not sure what else would.” 

With the way she was smiling at him, he wouldn’t mind being saved by her again, John thought. “Well you got me there. Walk me to my billet kind knight?”

Up until this point in the war, her mindset had firmly been 'loose lips sink ships’. No unnecessary comments or connections or else her heart would be broken. However, watching that damn curl fall across his face, [y/n] knew she had lost this battle. And if she was so easily defeated by Major John Egan then she feared for the poor unsuspecting Germans. 

“Lead the way, Fly Boy.”

[pupkou]

✧ No Lights To Tell Us ✧

✦ Zagreus (Hades 2018) x Gender Neutral Reader. ✦ Warnings: slight mentions of gore (mention of beheading), mention of blood, mention of swords/blades. ✦ Word Count: 900. ✦ A standalone one shot, set within my "Blood and Darkness" universe (but not yet somewhere specific in that story's timeline). ✦ Link to part one (parts are not yet connected).

Zagreus is nothing if not devoted.

That sentiment applies to everything he's interested in-- but really 'obsessed with' is a better way of putting it, because he doesn't lightheartedly ponder or enjoy anything. He's too intense for any lighthearted observation and studying because he connects too deeply with the stories of others and the worlds that they live in, his heart too big to live without sorrow. Despite his attachments, he lives to find a place of his own, to feel like he belongs, and his ambition to complete this quest has not been strained.

While living in the Underworld provides him with so much inspiration for adventure and reasons to dash around, defeating friends and foes alike, Zagreus can say that his favorite adventure has been knowing you.

Before you, Zagreus trained with Achilles for as many hours as the great hero allowed-- starting their sessions back when it was revealed to him in a dream that there is a world outside of the house of Hades. Zagreus obsesses about his trainings, the way he moves is careful and planned because one wrong move could send him plunging back into the depths of red blood that always seem to greet him eventually-- warm, but not kind. His movements matter because you can only get beheaded so many times before it gets old, and Zagreus prefers to spill blood with a slash of his blade than to be the one lying cold and hard against the stone floor.

But he's also devoted to you, his most beloved (as he calls you).

He did all of the outdated courting rituals, like inviting you over for a grand feast, gifting you ambrosia won in battle, and demonstrating the best way to remove the sweet beads of fruit from a pomegranate (as any good prince would do for a prospective partner) but Zagreus didn't need all those formal actions to be sure of how he feels.

Zagreus, since the moment he laid eyes on you, was obsessed with you. Like a hunting bird watching its soft, warm-hearted prey from above as it flies steadily above, Zagreus set his sights on you, and needed you more than anything. His desire for you outweighed any other, so strong that he lent Orpheus a few words on longing and tenderness. He didn't need time to love you; because his devotion to you was formed in an instant, rendered unchangeable and strong within the blink of an eye like a blacksmith plunging a sword into dark, cool water.

You are his main devotion, his beloved, his favorite shade, and it is through Zagreus' obsession with you that you learn what it is to be loved by a God.

One night, under the living stars and lying on the plush earth of his mother's garden, he rests his head in your lap as you comb your fingers through Zagreus' dark locks of hair. His laurels are set to the side, simmering with crimson and glittering with gold, and he is at peace in your embrace.

"Zagreus?", you say softly, pulling him out of his trance and drawing his bicolored eyes toward you. His eyes of garnet and emerald shine at you inquisitively as his mouth smiles, pleased at hearing his name from the mouth of his lover, the sweetest song he knows.

"Yes, beloved?", he answers, kind and warm.

"Did you hear that the villagers of your mother's hometown have built a temple in your honor?"

"I did, love," he beams, proud of their efforts and appreciation. "Their offerings were quite impressive, I need to remember to reward them with a bountiful season of hunting for their efforts."

"That's kind of you," you muse, petting his hair still as he leans into the soft press of your hand against him. "They're lucky to have someone who is as generous as you, Zagreus."

"You flatter me, darling. I just.. try to give everyone what they deserve," he says, sighing as he looks up at the stars dancing through the night sky, "and to be someone they can believe in."

"I know it isn't easy, my love. After all, if all Gods are worshipped, who is left for the Gods to believe in? Who is there to guide those whose hands mold mortality?"

"It's a bit late to get philisophical," he jokes, although it is without much humor behind his voice. "But I believe that the answer is that we are left with only what we cherish. For me, you are cherished-- so I have you to believe in, to lean on, and to worship in this infinite strand of life. You love me even when I have no offerings, and not even any blood to spill into your cup, and it is not because of my power. You know better than anyone that Gods only have what they have been given-- we have no lights to tell us our fates, only stars."

"I do love you, Zagreus," you affirm, leaning down to kiss his forehead. So many thoughts swirl within his mind, and your kiss helps to soothe his celestial thoughts of life and love. "And I thank the stars that they have led you to me."

Above your heads, in silver and gold, the stars sparkle brighter in their carefully planned formation, as if they are content with the way the scroll of fate has unfurled perfectly.

lmk what you think plz <3 love you

@allright @transchainsawman 💜

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 8 all chapters

-Your birthday falls on a beautiful spring day, and of course, you have to work. When a new customer growls into the parking lot on a shiny black motorcycle everyone crowds behind the counter to see who it could be.

It takes so little to entertain all of you, sometimes.

The boys titter excitedly about the sweet bike and torque and ccs, whatever that means.   

When the rider takes off his helmet there’s a fall of fabulous dark hair, and something inside you utterly purrs at the sight.

It’s Mr. Wick.

Maybe you should have known. His padded motorcycle jacket makes his shoulders seem impossibly broad, and as he crosses the parking lot on long legs you hear Cassie sigh behind you.

Same, girl, same.

Cassie had made you a little birthday crown to wear out of a to go cup, a la Princess Peach. You forget about the silly adornment clipped to your head, until Mr. Wick approaches the counter to make his order.

“One coffee…your Highness?” He lifts one of those dark brows with a small smirk, and fuck if it doesn't make you blush. 

“It's my birthday,” you sheepishly tell him. His expression actually softens.

“Happy Birthday, then.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Not fair you have to work today.”

You shrug. “No rest for the wicked.”

This makes him smile a little wider, and you feel that’s a good present for today.

“Hopefully you have something fun planned for later?” 

Is he fishing, or just making conversation? You can never tell with this man. 

“Not really,” you admit with a shrug.

Your parents are divorced and remarried, living far away from you in their new lives, with their new families. You know they’ll call you later, when they remember you. You’ll have an awkward little conversation that will only serve to grind up your heart into smaller pieces, rather than lift your spirits like its meant to.

Your friends are busy too. One, with her new baby who never has time for you anymore, and you totally understand (and endorse) her priorities, even if it still hurts. The other’s work schedule is exactly the opposite of yours, and you never manage to hang out anymore.

Maybe you’ll go to the thrift store after you get off work, or treat yourself to an ice cream. Nothing too extravagant. You’re saving every penny you can for your upcoming trip.

“Well, maybe something will come up.”

It’s a nice thought.

You make him his usual coffee order, and don’t think much about it the rest of the day. This warm spring day has everyone out and about, stir crazy after the thaw, and you were running full speed from open to the end of your shift. For some incongruous reason, people were extra rude too, and as the clock strikes 2 you are at the end of your rope, your smile more closely resembling a baring of teeth.

Your whole body hurts, and you think you are too exhausted to do anything fun for yourself, until you go to your car in the lot behind the brick building to find Mr. Wick—and his motorcycle—parked next to your old Rav4. He looks utterly scrumptious, if you’re being honest, those legs going on forever as he leans against the seat of his bike. His hair is waving down around his face as he browses something on his phone to pass the time.

Good on you, for only pausing for a moment to ogle him.  

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You look between him and the bike with your lip between your teeth, wondering what he’s doing, your treacherous heart fluttering in your chest.

“I thought…it might be fun to go for a ride? If you want.”

You cannot suppress a wide smile, touched to the marrow that he thought of you on your special day. “That does sound like fun,” you admit, and not just because the thought of sitting behind him on a bike makes you a little weak in the knees. The sunshine that day truly feels like a gift from the gods after such a harsh winter. “But…”

He tilts his head inquisitively.

“Don’t you have better things to do?”

He shakes his head, a lock of his dark hair falling over his eyes, and your fingers physically ache to brush it away. “There’s nothing I’d rather do,” he assures you, and damn if that isn’t enough to convince you.

“Full disclosure: I’ve never actually been on a bike before?”

His smile is nothing less than gentle, and he could have pushed you over with a feather.

“All you have to do is hold on to me,” he assures you, and you think you lose your mind a little at that.

There is slightly more to it, he instructs you as you put on a helmet and he helps you clamber on behind him. He tells you to lean slightly with him into the turns, but not too much.  The bike grumbles like a fire-breathing beast beneath you as he starts it up.

The feeling of his slim hips and taut backside between your thighs crosses some wires in your brain.

He takes you to the winding backroads of the countryside and up the mountain. You feel like you’re flying, snaking through the curves on this powerful machine, with a man you find you trust implicitly at the controls.

You laugh out loud more than once.   

At a straightaway he asks through the helmet mic, “Want to see what she can do?”

“Sure,” you answer, even though you can’t imagine what more this beautiful bike could offer.

“Lean into me, and hold on.” You obey, looping arms around his trim waist, plastered to his backside as he hunkers down for aerodynamics. You were already going fast, but when he shifts a gear you take off like a shot.

A sane person would have screamed, but all you can do is laugh.

This is the purest joy you’ve felt in longer than you can remember.

John pulls over at a scenic overlook, parking the bike so you can have a little break. You sit together on a picnic table, looking over the valley below. A stream snakes through it like a silver ribbon, shimmering in the sunlight. You sigh and lean back on your arms, lifting your face to the sun.

This has turned out to be a perfect day. John smiles a little as he looks over at you, but says nothing, just lets you soak it in.

“Thank you for this,” you finally say. “I was having such a shitty day.”

“You’re welcome.”

You sit up and rub at your neck. You have an unrelenting ache in the muscle over your left shoulder blade. It never really goes away, but its definitely worse after a long day on your feet bending over coffee.

John looks worried, bless him. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all. I just…have this thing. I think there’s a demon living in my shoulder.”  

After a pensive moment he lifts his hands in offering, moving very slowly as though he might spook you. His hands are…beautiful. Large, long fingered, calloused too. You wonder what he does, when he’s not sitting in the coffee shop or binding books. The thought of them on your body gives you a forbidden little thrill.

You do not even consider the missing digit, until he looks at his left hand and frowns, closing it to hide it at his side. “Sorry. I still forget…”

But you take his hand in yours, inspecting it closely for the first time. He allows it, though there is something vulnerable in his eyes as you do. The healed skin almost looks jagged, like it wasn’t severed with a clean cut or a surgical blade. You feel the urge to press your lips to it, as though you could kiss it better, but you just rub your thumb over the fine dark hairs there.

“What happened?”

“Someone…” He cuts himself off with a frustrated sound. “I had an accident.”

You sense there’s much more to the story, but you don’t press him yet.

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes, I get the phantom aches. Mostly it’s fine though.”

You nod and angle your back to him, placing his hand on your shoulder as you shoot him a pointed look, granting him permission to touch you. His sigh is almost imperceptible, but you sit up a little straighter as he squeezes your shoulder lightly. You get the slightest taste of the strength in those hands, yet you know he could rip you to pieces if he chose to.

He slays you in a different way, knowing exactly how to use them on your sore muscles, and you can’t help but moan as he squeezes the kinks out of your shoulders. For a second he freezes at the sound, before continuing to work his magic.

“God…that feels so good.” You’ve been in pain for so long that it’s damn near better than sex.

Maybe it’s been too long for that too, though.

“You are a mess.” You know him well enough now to know he’s frowning as he says this. He kills a knot with the well-placed blade of his thumb. You feel it release and you jump a little. Though it doesn’t really hurt you, you’re not sure why there is suddenly moisture in your eyes.

It’s been a long time since anyone’s taken care of you like this, you suppose.

“Job hazard,” you sigh.

“Do you ever do yoga?”

You laugh a little at that for some reason. “I used to practice, when I was younger.” It kind of fell by the wayside. You’re always so tired when you get home.  

“Well, stretching is good for you, as you age. Take it from an old man. It helps.”

“You’re not old,” you immediately protest.

“Nice to know I still have some curb appeal.” His words are laden with sarcasm, and yet you can tell he is pleased.

He finishes the massage with a lighter touch, to stimulate blood flow, that gives you delicious chills all over. Your shoulders are your kryptonite, and you are putty in his hands. You look back at him from beneath your lashes, curious what exactly it is the two of you are doing here. Does he like you, or is he just being impossibly nice?

He doesn’t avoid your gaze, but you find you can’t read him, not one bit.

“Want to get something to eat?” he asks.

It is almost dinner time. “Okay.”

You’re a little sad as you ride back down the mountain towards town. But he pulls up to the local diner, and you have sinfully greasy cheeseburgers and shakes. Despite your protests he pays, because: “No one should have to pay for their birthday dinner.”

You know he’s fucking loaded, so you let him have his way.

“This is the best birthday I’ve had in a long time,” you admit, munching on a fry. “Thank you, Mr. Wick.”

You know he’s told you to call him John before, but fuck if you haven’t noticed how his eyes darken just a little when you call him Mr. Wick, or even just Sir at the coffeeshop. You feel like you stumbled onto something you don’t entirely understand, but it fills you with a forbidden warmth all the same.

He gives you a hooded look from across the table, and you fancy he knows that you know what you’re doing.

“My pleasure, y/n.”

He doesn’t insist that you call him John again.

[emeritusemeritus]

Sauron’s Secret [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Title: Sauron’s Secret, one ring to rule them all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Wife!Reader {Established but hidden relationship}

Timeline: Around S4- slight alternate timeline, no Vecna. No mention of past events in Hawkins.

Summary: Eddie’s hiding a secret and Dustin is determined to figure it out.

Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of marriage. Hidden relationships, secret marriage. Mentions of drugs and marijuana. Dustin is a sleuth and I love him for it. Lord of the Rings references.

I had so much fun writing this. Set in mostly 3rd person/ Dustin POV.

Eddie Munson was allusive and mysterious, even to his closest friends.

He shared only what needed to be shared and kept his business private, just how he liked it. Eddie's favourite colour? Who knows, probably black or red but you'd never get a solid answer. His favourite movie? He says it's some old slasher film from the 50's that defied cinematic structure and gave the middle finger to the 'man' trying to oppress the creative spirit of filmmaking. Was it the truth? Probably not. His favourite book? He’d alluded to it being Lord of the rings but if questioned he would act like he’d never heard of it.

The only things he was open about were his love for heavy metal, pizza and D&D, and even then he kept his sadistic and intricate campaigns under wraps for as long as possible before the big reveal, trusting no one with his secrets.

Despite his attempts at general ambiguity, there were a few 'tells' in his behaviour, if read carefully, that could clue your in to his inner workings.

Dustin Henderson in sheer contrast is a completely open book; wears his heart on his sleeve, has little to no filter and will openly discuss all of his favourite things, regardless of if the audience is listening or not. But Dustin is also naturally inquisitive and curious, always trying to dig deeper and see the little idiosyncrasies in people that clue him in to their internal thoughts. He notices things that most people overlook and in the case of Eddie, someone he looks up to and proudly calls his friend, his curiosity is never stronger, particularly around the subject of Eddie's concealed love life.

It started a while ago, just a random day at Hellfire when Eddie came in a little late, trying to downplay his flustered nature as he shot off a roundabout apology and began setting up his campaign as Dustin looked on. Eddie had never been late, always having the table laid out perfectly, the mood lighting and repositioning all done ready for the Paladins, Wizards and Artificers ready to commence their quest. Dustin noticed as the game wore on that Eddie smelt better than usual, not that he ever smelt bad before but he seems to have a little more cologne on and his clothes smelt clean. Sometimes Eddie's clothes would have a faint tinge of damp, like they'd been sat in the dryer a little too long before airing out and being worn, only occasionally but that seemed to disappear completely after that specific meeting.

Sometimes, Dustin swears that he can smell a faint whiff of strawberries emitting from their Dungeon Master, specifically from his hair. At first he thinks he's crazy but the second or third time it happens it's definitely too much to be a coincidence.

A few weeks later when Hellfire had just come to a close, Dustin watched as Eddie shrugged on his signature two jackets and instantly frowned as he looked at the patches on the outer battle jacket. He quickly dropped the frown on his face, unknowingly doing it in the first place, before shifting subtly closer to that he could look to see what was different. The Dio patch on the back piece of the jacket was no longer raised or peeling upwards as it had been before in the bottom corner. He couldn't see any additional patches so he put it down to a fluke that Eddie just have re-sewn the patches, this time doing a much neater job than before.

But then he notices the lunches. Eddie had always brought something easy for his lunch, a bag of trail mix or questionable nut and pretzel mixes but suddenly there were sandwiches and the odd leftovers. That's when things began clicking into place for Dustin, realising that he might actually be on to something. He kept quiet about it, uncharacteristically, until he had more concrete evidence that supported his theory.

One day at lunch, Dustin walked in to see Eddie frantically scrawling ideas and little drawings on to a notepad, an actual wire bound notebook. Dustin had asked Eddie where he got the notebook but he just received a harsh glare and a dismissive insult in reply. Unfazed, Dustin smiled to himself as he tucked into his lunch tray, adding another point to his mental list, taking Eddie's defensiveness as evidence that he hadn't just stolen it from an unfortunate freshman, it was given to him. Eddie usually scrawled onto little slips of waste paper he'd find in his pockets or donated by his friends, never having brought an actual book to school in all the years that Dustin had known him, which were then folded or crumpled up and thrust into one of his many pockets.

The first Hellfire meeting after Christmas break is when Dustin realises that he'd been right all along. Eddie lights up a smoke after getting things loaded into the truck and for the first time since Dustin had known him, he wasn't using gas station grade clippers nor a random pack of matches he sometimes carried when the shitty lighters inevitably died on him. He instead lit the questionable cigarette with a black zippo lighter, one of those that were built to last, refillable and much, much nicer than any he'd ever seen in Eddie's possession before.

Still, he says nothing, content in knowing something about Eddie that no one else did, almost gleeful actually. He decides that if he's going to find anything else out then he needs to tread carefully, not wanting to alert Eddie to his inside knowledge or tip him off that he's digging around in matters that were not his own. He has to plan this carefully, asking questions that are only appropriate in the right setting, not out of the blue.

Luckily for Dustin, the moment presents itself not too long after at Hellfire when mid roll- Eddie's shirt shifts just enough for a second chain to be seen beneath his shirt, the movement of him shaking and rolling the dice allowing the pendant and chain to slip out from under his neckline. Eddie had always worn the guitar pick necklace, he never hid that beneath his shirt but this one had definitely not always been there. Dustin doesn't miss the golden glint of something hanging from the necklace, a ring that looked like a simple band. There's a few tense moments where Dustin studies the ring intensely before Eddie notices it slip, trying to quickly instil it into his mind for future reference before Eddie is alerted to his necklace being on show.

It lasts all of ten seconds before Gareth pipes up about the curious piece of jewellery in a less than delicate manner, his face scrunched up and turned to one side as he questions Eddie about it. Seemingly not missing a beat, Eddie quickly looks down at the offending article and smiles before he stuffs it into his shirt.

"That my friends is a custom made ruling ring, one ring or Isildur's Bane if you will. Genuine lord of the rings replica, 'One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them'." He smirks dangerously at the crowd after replacing the chain inside of his shirt before crouching down and casting aside one of the figurines on the table, "now, gentleman, are you prepared for your next defeat? You've fought valiantly but it may not be enough to save your sorry hides!"

Dustin gives him a lingering side eye, knowing that there was way more to that then he's made out; He'd seen the face Eddie had involuntarily pulled when he realised his mistake. Dustin was moving in on him now, biding his time until he can make his move and actually probe Eddie for the truth.

What Dustin doesn't expect however, after the months he'd spent agonising over gathering secret intel and evidence on Eddie is that one day soon, Eddie would put himself completely due to unfortunate bad luck.

It's raining, tipping it down as the Hellfire club burst through the doors of the school in sheer elation, celebrating their defeat of Vecna and his cult. The gang separates into separates cars all waiting for them and disperse as they run to get out of the rain. Dustin's mom was at work and he'd have to cycle back regardless, cursing himself for not bringing his waterproof. Eddie offers him a ride in the van, only for him to scream multiple profanities when the van only stutters before giving up completely. He kicks the wheels in frustration, already stoked to the bone from the rain in just his two jackets before he turns to Dustin to ask for his cellphone. Dustin watches him closely as Eddie dials a number entirely from memory, moving away so that his conversation would remain private as he quickly talks to someone at the other end of the phone. Dustin quickly shies away as Eddie's gaze flickers over to him briefly, acting as if he wasn't paying attention at all, until Eddie ends the conversation and hands him back the phone.

"Got a ride, stick around and we'll drop you off at home," Eddie says, nodding his head back towards the school so that the two of them could stand under the canopy to avoid getting wetter. Dustin watches as Eddie rings out his nearly flat curls, boosting them up so that his signature look wouldn't be ruined. Dustin however, pays no mind to his wetness and instead stares intensely at the road leading to the school, not wanting to miss who would be picking them up, transfixed on the idea that it might be someone he'd been waiting to meet, or prove was real, for a long time.

Dustin has to fight back a happy jig when he spots an old looking pickup truck driving up the road towards the school, eyes stinging with the rain as he daren't even blink, desperate to catch sight of whoever was driving.

When the truck comes to a stop, he falters as he sees an old man get out, wearing a boiler suit uniform having clearly been a mechanic of sorts. He then notices the logo on the side of the truck, something or others repair shop. Eddie steps forward and has a brief conversation with him but Dustin pays no mind, throwing himself down onto one of the benches under the canopy, his chin resting on his hand as he pouts.

When the older man begins to tow away Eddie's van with one last wave and a pat to the back for the dungeon master, leaving Eddie and Dustin stranded, he shoots Eddie a confused glance. Eddie simply averts his eyes, shooting him a strange look before wrapping his arms around himself, the cold clearly getting to him.

Nearly as soon as the old truck pulls away with Eddie's van, a second truck pulls around the corner, pausing briefly window to window to talk to the man in the truck from their respective vehicles. This truck is all black and seemingly well loved, an old Chevy of sorts but Dustin's not great with car models. The trucks pull away from each other and the second truck comes to a stop outside the school, right by the canopy.

"Wait here Henderson," Eddie mumbles, eyes focused on the truck as he ducks out of the canopy and into the rain. The windows are slightly tinted so it's hard to see what's going off though Dustin desperately tries to sneak a peak at the owner of the truck.

"Haul your bike in the back," Eddie calls out, pulling open the passenger door, only to be met by resistance from the person inside the car. He huffs, closes the door and helps Dustin lift the bike onto the truck bed before he opens the passenger door again and slides across the bench, giving Dustin room to climb in.

He notices the woman driving immediately but doesn't recognise her at all. She's pretty, really pretty and is dressed in a leather jacket with a material hood that is hardly concealing her hair, dark jeans and fingerless gloves.

“Hi, you must be Dustin,” she smiles towards him and Dustin has to fight a blush that the pretty girl was talking directly to him. His momentary silent pause isn’t missed by his dungeon master, who shoots him a harsh look before letting out a low chuckle at the kids face.

“Hi,” he says shyly with a small wave, which only makes the woman smile wider.

“You’re up on Cornwallis right?” She asks, turning the key in the ignition to start up the truck. He gives a little nod, still not finding his voice entirely and she smiles back, turning to check her mirrors.

“How’d you know?” He asks only a few seconds later as the truck begins to pull away. He frowns when both Eddie and the mystery woman share a little mischievous smile, an inside joke of sorts.

“I’d like to tell you it was seeing you riding past on your bike when I’d visit Barb but,” the woman says, barely taking her eyes off the road as she navigates through the heavy rain.

“Skull rock’s just behind your house, dude,” Eddie says with a chuckle, finishing the sentence for him.

“Oh,” Dustin says, “oh.”

Both of the older constituents chuckle and Dustin takes a moment to watch them, seeing that they both had a natural ease with each other, like they’d known one another for a long time. He decides a little harmless digging wouldn’t hurt.

“You knew Barbara Holland?” He asks, watching her reaction carefully. She gives a sad little smile before shrugging gently, the faint rustle of leather ringing out in the near silent truck cabin.

“Our dads used to work together at the shop, before all the shit went down, nice kid,” she replied. Dustin watches as Eddie’s hand seems to move just slightly so that he’s touching her thigh, though it’s subtle, no doubt on account of Dustin’s presence.

“So you didn’t go to school with her?” He digs further. Something tells him that with the addition of the woman, who still remained largely a mystery to him would shield him from Eddie’s wrath if he caught on, like a buffer for the situation.

She snorts a little at the thought and shakes her head, flicking the wipers up a speed as the rain continues to pour, the windshield hardly clearing before it’s full again.

“Don’t know if I should be flattered or offended by that,” she says with a smile and a chuckle. Eddie’s mouth pulls to one side, like he was trying to hide his smirk. “I graduated in 84, spend two years at high with her but we didn’t interact much, she had her friends and well, I got stuck with this degenerate,” she laughs, gesturing to Eddie beside her. He shoves her, muttering his outrage at her statement but she merely laughs harder.

So they were at school together; before Dustin had ever reached high school. He wondered if Steve knew her? He didn’t recall him ever mentioning her, though he didn’t even know her name so that was one issue. He notices they are already on Cornwallis and he pouts again, wanting to find out more about the woman but by the time they’d pulled up to the mini intersection of Old Cherry, right by his house, it was too late.

“Thank you!” Dustin says very pleasantly as he prepares to make a run for it to grab his bike from the bed of the truck, frowning as he wonders how he’d lift it by himself.

“Eds, go help him,” the woman says, urging Eddie to help with the bike. Surprisingly, Eddie doesn’t hesitate much and does actually move to help

Dustin, who gives him an odd look.

“Thank you again, errr,” he pauses before hopping out of the cab, hesitating so that he’ll grab her name.

She’s about to reply but Eddie shoves him quickly out of the cab and reaches for the bike himself before placing it on the floor and handing it to Dustin.

“Night Henderson,” Eddie says, quickly messing with Dustin’s wet cap before he smirks and hops up into the truck again. The truck doesn’t pull away straight away and Dustin realises they are waiting for him to let himself in, checking he wouldn’t be left outside. That had to be the woman, Eddie would have been nothing but exhaust smoke and tyre screeches in the distance by now.

As soon as he opens up the garage, the truck begins pouring with loud music, something heavy and angry sounding and the truck begins to pull away with a single beep of the horn.

This brief but important encounter has only spurred Dustin on further, amping up his desperate need to find out exactly who she was and who she was in relation to Eddie. They seemed overly friendly but comfortable, could she be the one that had given him the necklace? She wished he was sat next to her so he could get a whiff of her hair; if it was strawberry scented he’d have been on to a winner. The next day, he cycled to the library, thankfully it much better weather than the previous day, and had scouted through pages and pages of source material trying to find old yearbooks from Hawkins High that might have illuminated who she was. Nothing.

He cycled to family video, scrambling for any information Steve could give but he was nearly as clueless as Dustin.

“Dude I’m telling you, I never noticed Munson until the satanic rumours started, never paid any attention to him,” Steve shrugged, already having told Dustin this at least three times but the kid was persistent.

“She had * colour hair and she was wearing a leather jacket, really pretty,” Dustin tried to explain her but Steve looks vacant.

“There were tonnes of girls with her hair colour and pretty,” he says defensively.

“I said really pretty,” Dustin says, adding the inflection. Steve huffs and takes a seat on the stool behind the counter, trying to rack his brain for anyone that might have been with Eddie. Until a faint memory appears at the very edge of his brain, making his face squint as he tries to recall it, having been so long ago.

“There was a chick, she was into rock music, saw her with Billy once,” Steve says, still squinting.

“Ughr,” Dustin says, his face distorting into disgust. Steve immediately sees Dustin’s reaction and clarifies.

“No, she told him to fuck off,” he then chuckles, “was pretty funny actually.” He’s quiet for another moment before it comes to him, the memory getting clearer in his mind, the vision of her coming into full view, he clicks his fingers in a eureka moment. “Hot girl! Munson pulled hot girl?” He sounds aghast, muttering it again under his breathe as he questions it over and over again.

“Hot girl? Come on Steve, names, I need names!” Dustin says, banging his hand on the counter.

“Alright alright! Sheesh,” Steve says, running his hand through his hair. “Umm, it was… something hot.”

Dustin gives him a thoroughly unimpressed glare but he doesn’t notice, too consumed with mentally searching for the name on the tip of his tongue. “Ashle…bec..ayleigh…Rox… y/n! It was y/n!” He clicks his finger again, smiling proudly that he’d been able to recall the information. “Y/n L/n!”

“Hey!” He suddenly shouts after Dustin who races out the door with no reply and no thank you. “I need new friends.”

Dustin wastes no time as he pedals harder and quicker, his destination set in his mind, with her name repeating in his head so that he didn’t forget even a single syllable. As he pulls up in front of his house, he doesn’t even slow before dismounting the bike, leaving it on the grass in front of his house without a single care. He runs in, completely ignoring his mums greeting and whizzes over to the phone book that Claudia Henderson always had sat on the side table. He leapt towards the book and quickly began searching for her name, endlessly trawling through the alphabetical listing until her name would show.

Nothing. It was like she never existed.

“Mom! How olds this phone book?” He shouts, his volume way above appropriate for inside. When she tells him that she only got it last month, he frowns and sinks down into the chair with a slump.

“Dammit!”

“Dusty-bun, language!”

He lays off the trail for a while, exhausted by his extreme efforts, pleased that he knew her name now but feeling deflated at not getting any further. He still watches Eddie for any signs and notices a few odd things here and there but nothing feels groundbreaking anymore.

Until the Byers’ pay a visit to Hawkins. Will is immediately accepted back into the group and whilst Mike is distracted with El and Lucas at basketball, Dustin spends most of his time with Will. Jonathan mopes around most days and even his spirited friend Argyle seems a little lacklustre and irritable at times.

“What’s up with them?” Dustin asks, nodding his head towards the two older boys who are sat on the couch moping, hugging pillows to themselves and barely watching whatever’s playing on tv.

“I thought it was just Nancy stuff you know, but they’re been like it for a few days,” Will says with a shrug, casting a look towards Jonathan and Argyle who look visibly irritated.

Later that evening, Argyle catches Dustin alone and delicately tries to swoon him with pleasantries and chitchat until he finally asks the question that seemed wholly inappropriate.

“My dude, where can we find the devils lettuce?”

“What?” Dustin asks bluntly, completely lost.

“You know,” Argyle says, mimicking smoking a blunt, “some green, some kush, Chiba Chiba, ‘pass the kutchie pon’left hand side’.”

“Weed? You want weed?” He asks bluntly, not caring for the theatrics one bit.

“Well yeah my dude, if you have to be so crude about it,” he says jokingly. Dustin rolls his eyes and walks over to the telephone on the side, reaching for the phone book and flipping it straight to ‘M’ for Munson. Eddie’s side business was the worst kept secret in Hawkins, especially to his friends even though he kept discreet about it for good reason.

Dustin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he came across the name beside Eddie’s seeing it listed directly beneath his. Y/n Munson.

“My dude! I’m the delivery guy, don’t sweat it!” Argyle shouts with a laugh as Dustin suddenly takes off, offering no explanation as he grabs his bike and pedals away, straight towards Forest Hills.

He doesn’t stop, not even to catch his breath as he nears the entrance to the trailer park, flicking his eyes around for Eddie’s van. He’d been here once or twice, mostly to try and visit Max and had spotted Eddie in the opposite plot, assuming that he lived there and had visited once when Eddie needed something for D&D that Dustin had mistakenly taken. He pushes on, catching sight of Eddie’s beat up van and the black truck parked beside a trailer and doesn’t stop until he’s immediately outside. Dismounting his bike, he gasps for air and pulls out his inhaled from his jacket pocket, wheezing as he puffs on it a few times to catch his breath.

He walks up the steps to the trailer door and knocks over and over loudly, insisting that someone come to the door. The door opens to reveal Eddie in a Metallica shirt and some lounge pants, something Dustin would never believe he would wear, assuming he wore his jeans all the time.

“Henderson?” Eddie looks around behind Dustin and pulls him inside, “the hell are you doing here?”

The place looked very, very different from when he’d been here last, the rooms clean and not fusty anymore. The walls were no longer lined with display mugs and trinkets but rather nice homely decorations that were a little off centre, framed band posters and photos of people in nice frames.

“Dustin?” He hears the all too familiar woman say as she walks through into the kitchen. She’s also wearing a band T-shirt, Judas Priest he thinks he can make out, with some plaid pyjama shorts and a cardigan. She reaches up to smooth her hair down, not having expected anyone to turn up and a glimmer of something on her left hand makes Dustin freeze, before he remembers exactly why he came here.

“You’re married?!” He asks, turning to Eddie, shocked and outraged that he’d managed to keep it a secret. The woman, who Dustin now knew to be Y/n Munson, bursts out laughing as she throws herself down onto the couch, immediately covering her legs with a soft blanket.

“You’re still playing that game?” She asks, turning to look at Eddie, who looks like he’s about to spontaneously combusts.

“Fucking Christ Henderson, you came all the way here for that?” He asks, ignoring his wife’s laughter. Dustin simply shrugs, appearing resolute on the outside but internally he’s beginning to see how much he’s overreacted.

“You ashamed of me, Munson?” His wife teases, turning her head to the side, goading him with a smile. He finally turns to her and snorts, also amused by her words.

“Yeah like getting the hottest girl in Hawkins is something I’m ashamed of.” He sends her a wicked smile and she blushes just slightly, both of them smiling at each other as their eyes meet.

“So what am I missing?” Dustin says, not reading the room. Eddie breaks his gaze with his wife to glare at Dustin for interrupting the moment, the kid clearly had a lot to learn about women.

“Just tell him,” y/n says encouragingly, reaching for the cup of tea in front of her as she watches on with rapt interest, and slight amusement.

Eddie huffs and sighs, his shoulders dropping a little as he prepares his explanation, though why he was explaining things was a little lost on him.

“We got married in October,” he pauses as Dustin immediately looks like he’s going to blow a fuse and with one harsh glare, he closes his mouth, allowing Eddie to continue. “Been together for a few years but Wayne moved out last summer so my girl moved in and then we got hitched just after,” he explains, taking a seat on the little chair, offering the other to Dustin who declines. “I didn’t tell anyone because being a married man, still in school and DM’ing a kids D&D club isn’t exactly ‘cool’,” he says, sounding honest and a little deflated.

“To be clear, you weren’t that ‘cool’ before,” his wife snarks, thoroughly enjoying the show. He shoots her a look and she simply sinks at him, seeing the argumentative look diffuse immediately from his face as he smiles at her, seeing her beaming back at him, if not a little sarcastically.

The pieces slowly meld together in Dustin’s mind, illuminating the big picture, each little thing he’d noticed now becoming clear.

“So the ring,” he says, gesturing towards the chain around Eddie’s neck. “It’s not a Lord of the rings thing?”

Y/n’s loud burst of laughter breaks the last lingering slither of tension in the room and once again Eddie sends her a warning glance though she ignores it completely.

“Yes that very powerful wedding ring forged in the fires of Orodruin by the dark Lord himself, Edward Sauron Munson. Does it enhance your Dungeon Master powers specifically or is it like an all around enchancement? Because as far as I can tell there’s been no improvement to your cooking skills,” she says with a chuckle.

“Sweetheart you are in for it,” he says threateningly, though his eyes still shine with amusement. She lifts her eyebrows once as if goading him, hopeful that his words will take on a very different meaning later.

“Why not just wear it on your hand?” Dustin asks, missing the point of it all being hidden.

“Because, Henderson,” Eddie says, leaning forward to push Dustin back to fall into the seat opposite him. “My girl got me this ring,” he says flashing him the skull ring that sat on his left ring finger. “18th birthday. Couldn’t get married using that so I got a normal band but this means more to us,” he says, gesturing back to the ring. “Plus.”

He then slips off the ring and extends his hand under Dustin’s frowning gaze until he spots what Eddie is trying to show him. Her initials, tattooed on his ring finger, concealed by the skull ring he always wore.

“Soon as I graduate, it won’t be a secret anymore, hell, I’ll probably shout it from the rooftops,” Eddie says with a beaming smile, “but for now, it’s just between us three okay?”

“Okay.”

It’s graduation day and Eddie proudly walks the stage in his cap and gown to accept his diploma before giving the finger to Principle Higgins on the way. His friends sit in the auditorium and cheer him in but no one cheers louder than ‘hot girl’ who stands and cheers, clapping loudly for her husband who had finally graduated.

“Dude,” Gareth says, pointing towards the side of the stage after everyone had walked and the procession was over. They all turn to see Eddie place the cap onto the woman’s head before pulling her in for a searing and very public kiss.

“Who’s that?”

“Hot girl?”

“What?!”

Dustin smiles, watching the pair only briefly before the scene suddenly becomes decidedly less PG, turning to his group of friends that all look on in complete amazement. He smirks, ready to unleash the secret he’d been hiding for months, keeping his tone casual as if it were completely obvious.

“Oh, you guys don’t know Eddie’s wife?”

Taglist Requests:

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@nerdymesss

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@ali-r3n

@twistedlaces1909

[magiccath]

Every Word

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which two idiots who believe their love is unrequited finally admit their feelings for each other

A/N: My old account got accidently deleted so I'm using it as an opportunity to rework some of my older fics.

Sometimes, you were so distracting to the Doctor. Often, you weren’t even trying to be. You just were. Your existence was enough to make him forget what he was doing. Like, right now. 

You were sitting in the TARDIS control room, a book in hand. You leaned casually back against the console, one foot crossed over the other. You bit your thumbnail anxiously as your eyes darted across the pages. Whatever the story was, it had you fully engaged. 

He loved how focused you were - like the book was the most interesting thing in the whole ship. Your head was bent over the pages, causing your hair to fall in your face slightly. He had to resist the urge to reach over and brush the strands away from your eyes. 

He was supposed to be fixing the console. Even if he wasn’t doing that, he should be doing things that weren’t staring at you. He couldn’t help but feel that it was wrong, looking at you like this. He shouldn’t be as enamored with you as he was. 

He ran his hands over his face, tugging slightly. He needed to snap out of it. You shifted slightly, the motion causing his eyes to wander back to you. It was so hard to look away. 

Sensing his eyes on you, you peeked out from behind your book. The Doctor turned a deep scarlet and whipped his head away from your direction, pretending to act busy. You chuckled lightly to yourself and returned to your book. 

The Doctor couldn’t help himself, his eyes drifted over to you again. And again. 

“Doctor?” You laughed when you caught him again. The man blushed and rubbed his neck anxiously. 

“Yes?” 

“What’s wrong?” you asked, setting the book down. The Doctor looked at you, confused. 

“You’re staring,” you elaborated, narrowing your eyes. 

He shook his head vigorously, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.  

“Do I have something on my face?” you rushed out, raking your hands across your face. 

“No, no,” The Doctor blubbered, “you look beautiful. You always look beautiful.” 

He regretted it immediately. He really shouldn’t have said that. 

You raised your eyebrow inquisitively. The Doctor was prone to rambles and word vomit, but they usually didn’t involve him calling you beautiful. This was uncharted territory, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t interested.

“I mean, you’re just naturally a really gorgeous person. More stunning than any star I have ever seen. Very possibly the most beautiful creature to exist. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever met someone or something that matched your beauty,” the words came out in rushed clumps and you had to bite back a laugh. He was tripping over his words in an attempt to save face, but really he was just digging himself into a deeper hole. 

He averted his gaze and tugged at his hair. You found that he usually did that when the cogs in his brain were racing to keep up with his babbling mouth. 

“What I’m trying to say is there's nothing wrong with your face,” He gasped desperately, putting an end to his ramblings. 

You giggled quietly, trying to hide your laughter with a hand over your mouth. The Doctor chattered on all the time, but it was extremely rare you got to see him this flabbergasted. If you didn’t know better, you would think that he might actually have feelings for you. Ones that weren’t of the friendship variety, that is. 

“Thank you,” You grinned. The Doctor could feel his hearts melting. The minute you flashed him that smile he knew he was a goner. He loved your smile and even more, he loved being the cause of your smile. 

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” you smirked before walking to the other side of the room, averting the Time Lord’s gaze.

You didn’t want to ever admit out loud that you found the Doctor attractive. It’s not that you were ashamed of it. Practically everyone fancied the Doctor, he was just that kind of bloke. Rather, you couldn’t imagine him viewing you as more than a companion. But the way that he had been rambling on only a few minutes ago suggested otherwise…

The two of you never really bantered like this. Is that what this was? Was the Doctor flirting with you? The mere thought of it left you shaky and breathless. It felt too good to be true. 

The Doctor was shocked by your compliment, the words leaving him motionless. His reaction left you scared that you had gone too far, so you busied yourself with the numerous buttons on the console in front of you. Idly, you traced your fingers across them. 

“Really?” The Doctor asked, wide-eyed. You smiled to yourself. He could be so daft sometimes.

“I suppose so,” you said, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. Your words made the Doctor light up, a wide grin quickly taking over his face. 

“I’m quite fond of you, y’know?” You blushed, turning your head back towards the console. 

“I’m quite fond of you as well,” He said, moving closer to you. 

“Insanley fond,” you added. “You might even be my favorite person,” you shook your head.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, taking your hand in his. 

“I am?” You asked, genuinely shocked. 

“Of course! Have you met yourself?” 

You threw your head back laughing, the action making the Doctor smile to himself. 

“I love you,” he smiled adoringly, his wide toothy grin igniting a warmth in your stomach. You blushed and looked away, his gaze feeling insanely heavy.

“I- I mean... Uh,” He stammered, suddenly embarrassed by his confession. 

“Me too,” you interrupted his bumbling thoughts, looking up at his tall form. The Doctor stopped his blubbering and looked down at you. He swallowed anxiously, the action making his Adam’s apple bob aggressively. His eyes darted across your face, settling on your lips multiple times. 

“As more than a friend,” he whispered. 

“As more than a friend,” you repeated with a smile.

The Doctor's eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back, silently asking for permission. You nodded gently, the motion hardly noticeable. It was all the invitation he needed to grasp your face in his hands, delicately leaning in. He hovered for a few seconds, still giving you time to pull away. 

You sighed with frustration, grabbing his tie desperately and using it to pull his lips into yours. 

The Doctor was stunned at first but quickly relaxed into the kiss. His hands draped around your waist, gently pulling you closer to him. 

Your own hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling with the messy brown strands. You sighed deeply, the warm feeling in your stomach spreading across your body. 

The Doctor smiled against your lips, unable to contain his joy. 

After a moment, you pulled apart to gasp for air, your breaths coming out in quick pants. With red faces and lips plumped from the kiss, you smiled at each other before letting out a lighthearted laugh. His thumb trailed lightly across your bottom lip, the gesture gentle and loving. You ran your fingers along the seams of his suit, tracing the familiar lines. 

Still not getting enough of you, the Doctor plastered kisses across your face. He kissed your cheeks, forehead, chin, and collarbone lightly before landing on your lips again. This kiss was softer, more delicate. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours. You let out a relaxed sigh and danced your fingers across the nape of his neck. 

“I meant every word,” He whispered, which made you laugh. 

“So did I,” you smiled up at him, before pulling him back in for another kiss.

[television-overload]

The Walls That Tell Our Stories

Post-ep for 21x02 "The Stories We Leave Behind"

What I think we all want to imagine happened after the doors closed on that elevator at the end of the episode.

Word Count: 1,365

Read on AO3

No sooner had the elevator doors opened, than a fiery ball of energy came slamming into his legs.

"Daddy! Daddy!" the little girl yelled, grabbing onto his hand and pulling. "Take a picture of me with the orange wall!" She yanked him forward, already showing signs of that strength she and her mother both shared.

Tony laughed, casting a glance at McGee.

"Sorry, she's heard a lot about these orange walls," he explained, fishing his cell phone out of his coat pocket and dutifully opening the camera app.

He knelt down, holding the phone up so she was in frame.

"Alright, Tali, say, 'NCIS!'" he said, and Tali repeated it, finishing with a big toothy smile and a wild pose she must have learned from her friends at school.

Once he'd taken a couple photos, he clicked the image gallery to check them, holding the phone out to show Tali.

"How's that?" he asked, waiting for her approval.

"Perfect!" she answered. "Now one at your desk!"

Before he could stop her, she darted off to the part of the bullpen he had called home for so many years. It looked a little different now, various personal items stashed on the desks and even some plants making it feel more homey, but it was still the same place.

"Honey, that's not my desk anymore, it's Uncle Tim's," he reminded her. It hadn't been his in a long time, and it was crazy to think of all that had changed since then.

A pouty lip came out, and McGee chuckled. There was a lot of Ziva in her, that was true, but when it came to her personality, she was just so Tony.

"It's okay," he said, giving Tali the go-ahead to sit in his chair. “That was your dad's desk long before it was mine.”

She ran around the edge of it, plopping unceremoniously into the swivel chair and looking around interestedly at everything.

“Dad, did they have computers back when you worked here?”

Tony felt her words like a blow to the chest, and he feigned having the wind knocked out of him. How old did she think he was? He could practically feel the gray hairs sprouting from his head.

“Do you want me to take your picture or not?” he asked, shaking his head, hiding his amusement behind squinted eyes.

She smiled for the camera, then did a few poses pretending she was working.

"How many kids do you know who's number one bucket list item is to visit the headquarters of a government agency?" DiNozzo joked as he snapped a couple more photos. 

Tali had been begging them for years, but it had never been a good time. They’d needed some space to learn how to be a family when Ziva finally came home. And though they wished it had been under better circumstances, at least now they could show their daughter all the places she'd heard about in their stories.

McGee smirked, watching the energetic daughter of his two best friends as she clacked away at his keyboard. 

"I'd expect nothing less from your kid, Tony."

After a moment, Tali looked up, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Which one was Ima's?" she asked, spinning her chair back and forth.

He knelt down in front of her, resting his arms on the edge of the desk, his chin atop his folded hands.

"Which one do you think made it easiest to stare at her all day with heart eyes, Tali-girl?"

She giggled, pausing so she could inspect her options, taking the task very seriously. She tapped her chin in thought.

"That one!" she said, brightening up and pointing to the desk directly across from his.

He grinned, thinking back to all the times he'd sat there thinking about her mother. 

"Bingo!"

"Can I–?"

"Have a picture over there?" he finished, already knowing what she was going to say. "Ask Agent Knight if it's okay."

Jessica Knight was standing near the elevator with Palmer, and it didn't take long for Tali to get her permission. She ran back the short distance, looking triumphant in her return.

"Hey, where is your Ima anyway?" Tony asked as she sat down behind the desk.

"Here!" her familiar voice sounded, echoing in the largely empty bullpen. The door to the women's restroom closed behind her. "Your child is pushing on my bladder. I swear I cannot make it more than an hour without having to pee, these days."

As she approached, Tony tucked her under his arm, glancing around at the walls that held so many of their stories. This was the building that built them. Tali owed her existence to these ugly orange walls and the people that dwelled in them.

"Our daughter has been playing tourist and hitting all the great photo spots," Tony informed her, brows raised sarcastically.

Ziva turned to look at Tali, seated where she used to sit now more than a decade ago. 

"I see that," she said, her lips pulled back in a smile. "Did you tell her about the time we were stuck in the elevator?"

Tony grinned. "Oh yeah, she liked that one."

"Ima, when can we go see the lab?" Tali asked eagerly, interrupting them.

Ziva looked up and saw Jimmy approaching, and she knew there wasn't time right now. She separated herself from Tony, gently tousling Tali's wavy hair. "Another time, baby, I think it's time to head over to the funeral."

Tali nodded, glancing down at her shoes.

"I'm gonna miss Grandducky," she said sadly, playing absentmindedly with an eraser she found on the desk.

"So will we," Tony said, swallowing back emotion. "Aren't you glad he came to visit us during his book tour last year? That was pretty special, huh?"

The littlest DiNozzo nodded again, cheeks widening in a smile. "He was the first to know about my baby brother!" she said, remembering it fondly.

At that, Jimmy looked to Tony and Ziva in mock indignation. "Hey, you told him before any of the rest of us?" he said.

Tony laughed, patting the autopsy gremlin on the shoulder in consolation. "He guessed pretty quick. I think if he'd visited a few weeks earlier, he would have been the one to break the news to us!"

Ducky’s globetrotting semi-retirement had been a blessing to them all. They cherished the few times they'd been able to meet up in recent years, remaining close despite the long distance. He was a part of their family; it was only right that their daughter know him and love him too. They were fortunate for the time they did have together.

Ziva glanced at the clock and sighed, placing a hand on Tony's chest, silently telling him they probably needed to get going. He nodded in response, checking that he had his phone and wallet still before taking her hand in his.

"Alright, well, we can keep sharing memories on the way. Tali? You ready to go?"

"We'll be back, right?"

"Of course," Tony answered. "We've barely scratched the surface here! I still have to take you to interrogation to figure out what happened to that batch of cookies Ima made last week ." He tickled her sides, causing her to erupt in giggles and run ahead of them toward the elevator. They followed, hand in hand, with Jimmy and McGee right behind.

"Squeeze in!" Palmer said, the entire group filling the elevator with little room to spare. The others would be meeting them at the cathedral for the service, everyone who knew and loved Ducky, there to say their final goodbyes.

As the doors closed, Tony leaned down and pressed his lips to Ziva's, his hand resting on her lower back to pull her closer.

"Ugh, guys, really?" McGee complained exaggeratedly, screwing up his face in a look of disgust. Tali put her hands in front of her mouth to hide her giggles.

Ziva looked up at Tony like he was the only other person in the elevator, and he beamed proudly, unashamed and unapologetic.

He squeezed her sides playfully, tucking his face into her shoulder and breathing her in.

"I've always wanted to do that in here."

-.-.-

Tag List (if you want to be tagged when I post Tiva stuff, let me know and I'll add you!): @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgiac @indestinatus @loudlooks @mrsmungus @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tivajunkie @tonysziva

Gonna go out on a limb and also tag @wanna-be-bold @pro-bee @delicatefalice @harmandmac @benditlikepress @irish-trish idk who else I've seen active lately but yeah

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (21)

The amusement park is packed, but Shippo appears to be doing okay with the noise. Granted, she got him some earplugs and Koushi some headphones. Kagome pulls the small blanket until it is up to Koushi's chest. He looks out of the stroller window. She has his baby carrier just in case he wants a better view of everything going on. Koushi is pretty inquisitive.

"Sensei!" the students yell.

Kagome stops and looks over her shoulder. Why are their faces so red? Did something happen?

"My bad," Satoru sighs, removing his hand.

Oh.

Satoru is always touching her. Always squeezing her ass or resting his hand on her lower back. Satoru huffs and then places his hand on her lower back.

She ducks her head and smiles. Her insides are gooey like a cinnamon roll. Being with Satoru is a little like that. Warm. Soft. And when she takes him into her mouth, he tastes—Kagome gives herself a mental shake. Not the place.

"I want to ride on that!" Shippo says from his place on Satoru's shoulders. Kagome follows where Shippo is pointing and then shakes her head. "Papa! Let's go!"

"Nope, you gotta stick to the ride for kids." Not that Shippo would be hurt or affected by the larger rides, but he is supposed to be six, and six-year-olds do not ride the biggest roller coaster in the park. Or maybe they do. Doesn't matter, Shippo is small and wouldn't pass the height requirement.

"But..."

"Sorry, bud. We'll head to the kid's section. There are a lot of games you can play." Satoru looks over his shoulder. "You guys are free to do your own thing, and we can meet up for dinner. Unless you want to ride the smaller rides."

"We'll meet up," Yaga says, rubbing the back of his head. Next to him, Panda's large dark brown eyes have yet to blink. He is as tall as Yaga in the human form, Shippo gave him. His hair is black with white streaks.

"Megumi," Shippo coos.

"No."

"Big brother," Shippo sing songs. "You know you want to stay with the family."

Kagome sighs. "Shippo, Megumi wants to hang out with his friends. Come on, or you won't have time for any of the rides." She flashes a smile at Megumi, who looks so relieved. The students follow them for a bit and then break off into their own groups. Once it is just them, Satoru stops.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Why wouldn't she be okay? Kagome tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"You can't get on any of the rides, and I'll need to go with Shippo." Even with the shades on, she can tell he is looking at her stomach.

She exhales. "I haven't taken a test." Not that any test would be more accurate than Sesshomaru, but still, it does not feel real. After trying for so long, getting pregnant so easily is hard for her to wrap her mind around.

"I believe in Sesshomaru."

"You believe in Sesshomaru," she chortles. "You barely know him."

"Seemed like an okay guy," Satoru says with a smile.

"He lives up to the whole killing perfection name," Shippo quips.

"I'm still alive," Kagome points out.

"What?" Satoru snatches his shades off and hangs them from his hoodie. "What do you mean by that?"

Whoops. She needs to change the subject. Last thing she needs is for Satoru to pick a fight with Sesshomaru the next time they go back to visit. She did promise to get some winter clothing for Sango's family. Kagome flutters her eyelashes and strokes his arm. "My mom and Syouma want to take the boys shopping over the weekend."

"... This weekend?" Satoru bites his lip. "We'll be in the house by then. Like the whole day?"

"A couple of hours." She mirrors him, biting her lip as well while heat builds in her gut. Satoru isn't wearing anything crazy, but for some reason, the black hoodie and jeans are driving her crazy.

"Papa! I want to go on a ride." Shippo huffs.

"Sorry, sorry." Satoru laughs. "Let's get moving. Now you don't have to ride every single one. We can always come back. Plus, I don't like leaving your mom alone for long. There's always something lurking around the corner." Satoru glances over to the left. Kagome frowns.

"I can put a barrier up while we wait if it'll make you feel better." In the stroller, she's got a shikigami disguised as a toy in case she needs any extra support, though she doubts it.

Satoru nods, but he's still looking to the left. "Yeah, you should do that."

"Are we going after them?" Shippo asks, taking his shades off.

"Nah, they haven't tried anything." Satoru flashes her a smile as he hands Kagome his and Shippo's shades for safe keeping. "I think there are some rides we can all get on, like a tour or something." He rubs her back and when he pulls away so he and Shippo can get in line, Kagome's heart pangs. Oh dear, she is falling for him.

Koushi looks up at her and stretches his arms out.

"Oh, did you want to watch Daddy and Shippo?" Kagome coos as she takes Koushi out of the stroller. She balances Koushi with one arm and pulls out her phone to record. "You see Daddy?" She holds the phone up. Koushi laughs and then fusses. "Oh no, buddy. You stay right here. Don't even think about it." Kagome squints her eyes at Koushi and tries to look stern, but he just giggles and Kagome's stern demeanor cracks faster than an egg. "I'm serious. You stay right here with me, or you'll give mommy and daddy a scare."

Koushi yawns.

Figures.

He threw a fit earlier when Shippo declared he was going with Satoru instead of shopping with her. Kagome presses her lips into a thin line. At this rate, Satoru will have to come with if she wants the boys to do anything. She lowers her phone and stops recording right as Satoru and Shippo head over to them.

"I want to go on another one!" Shippo says, jumping up and down. "And I want to win some prizes, too." He stops and then points a finger at a game. "I gotta get something for my brother and Mama."

"Well, let's go win some prizes, yeah!" Satoru fist pumps the air. Shippo mimics him. Koushi clenches his fist and Kagome bites down on her tongue to stop from laughing. They end up winning more prizes than what can fit in the bottom of Koushi's stroller. "What is Shippo doing?" Satoru asks.

Kagome hums. "He's always been partial to human girls," she admits. With an arm full of prizes, Shippo talks animatedly with some young girl with brown hair. He gives her an oversized stuffed bear and laughs at something she says. Shippo hands over another prize.

"... He's far too young for that," Satoru exclaims. "Oi! Shippo, come on. We gotta meet the others for dinner, save some for them!" Satoru raises a brow. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she says, turning her head away. "Did you want to take a bath with me when—"

"Yes. Fu—mmm yes."

"Papa, seriously?" Shippo rolls his eyes. "I left one gift for Megumi. Can I have cake for dinner?" Shippo waves goodbye to the brown-haired girl. Her parents shake their heads and usher her away. "Please?" Shippo widens his eyes.

Kagome gives Shippo an Are you serious right now expression and turns the stroller around. "No one is having cake before dinner." She looks at Satoru, who throws his hands up in front of him. Uh-huh, Satoru was planning on getting sweets first, for sure.

"Shippo and I are gonna step out for a bit once we meet up with the others."

"Everything good?"

"It will be."

Got it. He's going to put some fear in whoever is on his radar. When they get to the restaurant, Satoru kisses the top of Kagome's head and then Koushi's.

"Where is Gojo-sensei going?" Yuji asks, pulling out a seat across from her.

"Oh, there's someone being weird, so I think he's gonna talk to them or kill them." She shrugs one shoulder while she cradles Koushi in her arms and looks over the menu. "He and Shippo will be back soon. Shippo will be upset if he misses the show." Kagome motions to the stage on the right. The tickets were pricey, but Satoru insisted they get front-row seating to the stage.

Yuji scratches his head.

Was it something she said? Kagome frowns. Why is everyone looking at her like that? Aren't they sorcerers like Satoru? She does not get what the big deal is.

"What's wrong?"

"You're so nonchalant about it," Nobara says.

"Oh... well, we've already had to deal with one assassin since the news of Koushi spread." She glances back at the menu. Satoru will probably want that. If they aren't back in time, she'll just order for them. Shippo will want everything. "Chances are they'll back down, though."

"We should do something for sensei," Yuta says after a moment. "He took care of everyone's missions so we can enjoy this night out." The table grumbles, but the students eventually agree to put something together. Only Megumi watches Kagome, so she flashes him a small smile.

Satoru did not take on everyone's missions, but Kagome is not going to correct the student's line of thinking, nor is she going to bring attention to how many shikigami she can make.

"Uh... Kagome-san?" Yuji starts. "What does sensei like?"

Kagome stares blankly. What does Satoru like? "He likes sweets, and he loves when the boys show off...is there anything you guys have been working on that you could show him?"

"My energy can be sloppy," Yuta says, leaning forward. "But I've been working on it."

"Put something together like the exchange event," Yaga says after a moment. "It would be good for everyone."

"Is everyone participating, minus Gojo-sensei?"

Yaga frowns. "Naturally, Satoru should not partake. It will be a celebration of sorts."

Kagome looks down at Koushi and smiles. She isn't quite sure what the others are planning on, but it sounds like some kind of event for Satoru to watch.

"Could Shippo participate?" Yuta asks. "Or would that be too much for him? He is young, but he's so strong." Yuta motions to Panda, who looks delighted to be out and about with everyone in his human disguise.

"That will have to be up to Satoru since he has a better judgment of what Shippo can handle," Kagome admits. It doesn't sound any different from the things Shippo did at the kitsune school and Shippo insists on going on missions with Satoru. Kagome shifts Koushi. He wraps his hand around her finger.

Satoru is a good father.

"Yo! Sorry, took longer than I thought it would." Satoru pulls out a chair to the right of Kagome for Shippo and then sits down next to her on the left. "Did we already order?"

"Gojo-sensei?" Yuji asks, lowering his voice. "Did you... did you kill someone?"

Shippo snickers.

Yuji rears back. "Shippo? Did you?"

"I'm just a kid," Shippo replies, widening his eyes and blinking them. "I would never. Why, I can't believe you would accuse me of such things." He sniffs.

"What? No! I wasn't—"

"Shippo, enough," Kagome interrupts. "I was going to order this for you if you weren't back in time." Kagome points to the menu.

"Looks good to me," Satoru replies, pulling out his phone. "I'll just go with that then." He slides his phone back into his pocket right as Kagome's vibrates.

Did he text her?

Satoru: I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight ;)

Her face burns. She wants to look at him so badly, but she doesn't trust herself to not melt into a pile of goo at the table. Who says that? Her heart is beating so loud, she's just happy neither Shippo nor Panda have called her out on it. Satoru squeezes her thigh. She bites back the whimper, shocked by her reaction.

It is only after the server comes around to get their orders and returns with their meals that Megumi addresses Shippo. He runs a hand over his hair. "So, just curious, what did you do?"

Shippo glances away from the stage, a live show about a girl raised by lions and how she falls in love with the boy raised by hyenas, and cups his hand around his mouth. "He's alive. Papa let me practice my domain expansion."

The table goes still and then all eyes turn to Satoru, who continues to eat with one hand. His other hand is still firmly attached to her thigh.

"Satoru," Yaga says lowly, keeping his voice down. Kagome swears she is hearing a hint of fear in Yaga's voice.

"What? I was just helping to tire him out some before we leave here. No biggie." Satoru squeezes her thigh and then holds out his hands for Koushi. "Shhh, watch the show." He rests his arm across the back of her chair and brushes the tips of his fingers across her arm.

I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight.

Kagome closes her eyes and exhales. So much for paying attention to the show.

***

A/N: The students are now regretting their decision to include Shippo in their Gojo-sensei appreciation event. Megumi hasn't shared his new shikigami with the others, so he's the only one who suspected Kagome may have had something to do with Satoru being able to take on their workload.

"Will Shippo get an attendant too?" - Right now Ito, is like the attendant/assistant for the whole family.

"Shippo probably needs more nutrition to keep up the illusion all day" - Yep, he's eating a lot more because he's expending more energy. He's on his way to gaining another tail.

Take care! Wishing a wonderful Sunday and a wonderful week. Drink plenty of water and get lots or rest!

Side story, I was talking to my grandma yesterday and she was telling me how happy she was to have little titties instead of many titties and I stared at the phone wondering how we got to such a conversation.

[new-tella-us]

Soooooo I made fan children. Lil drafts of them at least.

If you couldn’t tell from the horn colors, these are James’ gremlins.

Let’s start with the easier one, Annabell. Or just Belle for short. She’s five at this point. Having one human-demon child was already astronomically rare so they really didn’t expect Belle’s arrival but she arrived in all her glory. She managed to somehow get more of Laura’s angel DNA than Mika did and got some lil wings. They’re too small to be functional though. Maybe one day… The James genes are STRONG with this one, having his exact skin tone, eyes, and taint coloring. She’ll get his nose too when she’s older. If it weren’t for the hair, no one would guess than Mika birthed this one. Belle has a very sweet and inquisitive personality, always trying to see how things work, she’s also a voracious reader reading a few levels above her age. A lil James she is. The big difference is that she can also be very emotional and throw ground shaking tantrums when she’s angry.

Now Ray. Ray is the firstborne at fifteen years old and oh BOY could he not be any more different from his father if he tried. He’s sloppy, lazy, a backchatter and has a chaotic streak. Both blessed and cursed with gifted child syndrome, Ray is far too smart for his own good. He doesn’t need to try in school (yet) so he doesn’t try and still gets the As that keep James off his back. Now that doesn’t mean he has no ambition, he has a goal but it has nothing to do with the human world. He wants to become magically strong enough to go to the Abyssal Plains. James always says that it’s “dangerous” so what better way to prove that Ray can handle himself than by beating James in a duel? That has become his goal for his teen years.

Don’t get it twisted, he loves his family. He doesn’t even dislike James, he respects his father and even admires him but he feels bored with his current life and also feels like James doesn’t respect him enough so that reflects on his actions. Ray is an absolute Mama’s boy, respecting Mika more than he respects James honestly. To him, Mika is more honest and willing to tell him a real answer. Plus they just grew up close so if there’s anyone who can talk Ray out of his stupid ideas, it’s Mika.

As for how the siblings feel about each other? Well Annabell looks up to Ray as an example but feels like he babies her too much (well I guess Ray and James do have some similarities) and Ray is protective over Annabell even when he finds her annoying or bratty.

[galadrieljones]

Happy SatFriday, or DADWC day :) I propose... Haunted Forest, folded letter, and exhausted

Thank you for the prompt!! This is another addition to my post-Trespasser/pre-Veilguard stories for Sene Lavellan. Solas is getting closer, every day. Finally, she encounters him in the Fade...

Solavellan ❤️ 1500 words ❤️ Mature

MASTERPOST

Incredulous

Sene tip-toed past the river bank, which was frozen into a crust. She wore winter furs. She had not hunted them herself. In fact, they had been gifts from Dorian. Tall, white arctic bears. He'd commissioned them himself and sent them as a gift via courier. To My Redheaded Friend, he'd written on a piece of heavy parchment. These furs were crafted by the finest trapper in all of Tevinter. I have a feeling they will go splendidly with your magnificent hair. May they keep you warm until next I see you. Which had better be soon. I'm very bored. Yours, Dorian.

It was cold, a dead season in the Frostbacks, and she was just outside of Haven, had hiked up the mountain over the past two days. Why had she come here? She didn't know. She just felt like it. She set up camp near the old gates, in the barracks where Thom Rainier had used to sleep. She lit a fire in the hearth, and it was enough to warm her. There were woods nearby, which had overgrown in the Inquisition's absence with coniferous trees, monsters that could blot out the sky. It was where she later planned to hunt her supper, but not now. For now, she was exhausted.

She had come back to Haven twice before, once with Abelas, right at the beginning of their love, when he was curious, and he wanted relics of her old life without him, and once with Ameridan, who had been simply bored, and who she hadn't seen now in more than four months. Their last dalliance had been at the Winter Palace. Along with the Commander and Josephine with Thom, hey had attended a ball there at the behest of Empress Celene who found their coupling curious. They boarded together in a great room at the corner of the castle on a high floor, and they enjoyed the view as well as the wine, one another's company, and they fucked merrily as they had many times over the years prior. On again, off again. When they said goodbye, something about it felt definitive this time. He was headed to the Anderfels. What's there? she had asked him. He had kissed her, charming and silver, and he said, I don't know, lethal'lan. Much hardship, I'm sure. And they smiled.

She could have asked to go with him. He would have taken her, but he hadn't asked, and it wasn't what she wanted to do anyway. So instead, she went home to her clan's farm in the Free Marches. She stayed there for two months, helping her father organize the archives and helping her her mother bottle the wine, and then she went back to Skyhold to visit with Sera and Dagna, and to take care of some business with the Inquisition. Now she was alone, here in Haven, thinking about the past. She still loved this place. She warmed her hands to the fire and drank some brandy from a leather flask. She thought quite a bit about Ameridan, and how she could have loved him. It was a nice fantasy, and she missed him a little, but Ameridan was very far gone in some ways. Even beyond the Anderfels. No matter how they carried on, he seemed to have no intention of falling in love with her or anyone else. His heart was still stitched to Telana's, across centuries. Sene didn't blame him. She understood him. In this way, she knew it would never work.

A little while later after the sun went down over the mountain, Sene went outside to go hunting in the woods. The snow was crunchy. She made a habit of stepping into animal tracks and depressions left by logs and other things. It dampened her footsteps. She made quick work of a wild turkey, which took her no more than twenty minutes to track and to shoot. She'd eat what she could and cure the rest. With the bird tied off at the feet, hanging over her shoulder, she began to head homeward. She could hear the call of the owl and as the moon rose, the howling of one solemn wolf, very nearby. She stopped, standing perfectly still on the trail. She set down the turkey and took her bow off her back and then she nocked a single arrow. There was a cold wind, and with it the sounds of haunted whispers, which raised the hairs on the back of her neck, and suddenly, she knew she wasn't alone. She spun around with her arrow aimed high, right at the throat.

It was Solas.

She dropped the bow immediately. He was just standing there, wearing simple garments. A dark jacket with a high collar, and he had his hands in his pockets. He watched her, pensive and very concerned. He looked so good. She nearly dropped to her knees. But she didn't. She looked around instead, at the pines and the snow, hearing the animal sounds.

"Are you real?" she said to him. "Or is this a dream?"

"It is a dream," said Solas.

"It feels so real."

"I am near," he said. "That is why."

"You're near?" she said. "Where are you?"

"Don't worry about it, Sene."

"Why not?"

"Soon, it will be time. But not yet."

"Thom gave me your letter," she said. She pulled the folded piece of parchment from the satchel at her hip. She showed it to him. "In the Hinterlands, one month ago. You sent it from Tevinter?"

"I am grateful to Thom," said Solas. "I felt you here, at Haven. I wanted to see you. I don't know what you've heard, about the ritual, and Tevinter."

"In the letter, you said you still love me. Is that true?"

Solas hardened his jaw. He still did not remove his hands from his pockets. "It is always true."

She took a step closer to him. "It feels different now. I can sense it, too. How close."

"If this could be over," he said, "and if I came back—"

"I am not who I used to be," she interrupted. The snow began to fall. Little snowflakes clinging to his jacket, his broad shoulders. She was close enough to touch him, but she didn't.

"I know that," he said. "I know everything, vhenan."

"Everything?" she said. This made her nervous. She didn't know why. It wasn't like her. They'd met in the Fade before, many times since he'd gone. At first, she wanted to kill him, but over time, that changed. As she changed. She should have known. "What do you know."

He took a deep breath and looked down at his boots. He just looked like a man there. He didn't look like a god. "I know about Abelas," he said. "And Ameridan. When I learned Ameridan was alive, I was shocked, naturally. I had heard of your valor in the Frostback Basin. You and Abelas. I had to see the man for myself, so I went in the Fade. I saw him at a tavern. And with him, I saw you. Laughing, with your great big hair. Imagine my surprise." He smiled, in earnest.

She didn't feel embarrassed, but she did feel guilty. She knew this was irrational. "Why didn't you say anything? I had seen you in Fade."

"It didn't matter. It's your life, not mine. I couldn't give you what you needed."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you," she said. "It was never about you, with either of them. I just wanted to feel like a person."

"It's been ten years, vhenan," he said, as if hanging on for his dear life. "I have no claim over you anymore."

"I hated you for so long," said Sene.

"I remember."

"Abelas felt the brunt of that. Ameridan, in some ways, he is so much like me. He's helped me figure out the truth."

"What is the truth?"

"That I still love you," she said, holding out the letter to him. He took it, like he was compelled to. Their hands did not touch.

"You do?"

"I can't stop. It is my destiny. For this, Ameridan and I can never be together, at least not seriously. He loves a dead dreamer, same as me."

"I am not dead, vhenan."

"You might as well be," she said, shaking her head. She felt cold and filled with her regular and ongoing winter exhaustion without him. "You are not here. We meet only in dreams. You might as well be a ghost."

Now, he took his hands out of his pockets. He was wearing dark gloves, which he removed and dropped to the earth. Then he took one step closer, and he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I have not come back, because I live in fear that you will not see me. I left you. I left us both behind that day. When I saw you again, years later, and you learned the truth, it was so...fraught. We have never discussed it."

"That is the past," she said. "I know who you are."

"I used to have a reason, Sene, but now that reason is...just gone. There is still much to be done, but I no longer need to be alone. It has been so long. I thought perhaps you had moved on. I know it sounds cliche, but I just wanted you to be happy."

"I am," she said. "I'm fine. I am not like other people, Solas, but I am not alone. I have friends, and it's taken me many years, but I'm fine. I don't know what else to say."

"You are not in love with Ameridan?"

"No," said Sene. "Though I thought about it."

He smirked, perhaps stunned. "You thought about it?"

"What it might be like, yes. I even wanted it, at one point. I believe it's over now, but we were on and off for many years."

She felt a shaking in her heart. He was still touching her neck, right where it met her jaw. He seemed to be studying the exact same spot of her skin. She wanted badly to defy him, but what was the point?

"It feels like you're here," she said. They could see their breath. "Are you sure you're not here?"

He kissed her, calmly. It seemed to last forever, like the first time. The same place. But it was much less cold then, and now, they were older. When they parted, she became a puddle in the frozen earth.

"Solas—"

"When you awaken," said Solas, "it will not be long. Vhenan." He smiled wearily and snapped his fingers once.

She woke up in the barracks, which she had never left. She had curled into her furs beside the lit hearth and fallen asleep. Now, she looked down at her freckled right arm and her strange left arm, which still itched from time to time, and still glowed with the old restorative magics wrought by Dorian and Dagna. She touched the place on her neck that Solas had touched and she touched her fingers to her lips. She got to her feet. She went outside where it was freezing, not wearing her furs, wearing only her cotton under things, and she gazed up at the moon, which was full as an eye, and then into the mouth of the haunted woods. She was incredulous.

"What the fuck," she whispered.

@dadrunkwriting

[anjelicawrites]

One Modern!Aemond x bff!reader headcanon that ran away and decided to flourish on his own. Just fluff and a smidge of angst.

Modern!Aemond is a loner in school, nobody dares picking on him because he looks scary. You come from a difficult background and are unapologetically yourself, punk to your core and with a mean streak. You two start this friendship that surprises everyone and that goes on for the rest of your lives, even though his family is not very happy about it. Your family’s crammed apartment in the housing project is always open for him and he stays over for dinner more times than not, your weird ass family adopting him the moment he arrives for the first time. You mum adores him, your father loves talking politics with him, he lets your younger siblings use his long limbs as a jungle gym and your grandmas knit and crochet him items of clothing: he’s part of the family and with you weird lot he looks far more relaxed and happy than he does when you stay over at his place. There, he looks like he’s wearing a mask, like he is not truly your nerd friend Aemond. For better an for worse you two grow up, go to different universities (you on a full scholarship) but keep in constant contact (thank you very much technology!), start and end relationships, try different avenues before you both have stable jobs in the same city. You two make a badge of honor on meeting in presence once a week to bitch about your respective lives and lack of suitable people to form a romantic bond with.

It’s the one night when he has had too much to drink and he’s sleeping next to you, that you realize why all your previous partners were always lacking something: they were not Aemond. The revelation hits you like a punch and you need to go to the kitchen and just pace there: you are in love with your best friend, with your brother from another mother, now what? You grab the bottle of whiskey you keep for emergencies and take a swing at it, then another and your feelings for Aemond don't go anywhere.

"What's going on?".

You jump out of your skin, Aemond has scared you. He looks owlishly at you, his hair loose down his back, an old pair of sweats low on his hips, he is adorable and handsome. You can't look into his eye.

"I need water, why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep"

"I figured as much - he takes a swing at the bottle and your eyes focus on the way his Adam's apple moves - why couldn't you sleep?"

"It was nothing".

Aemond eyes you with a raised eyebrow. He's been raised among women: his mum, his beloved sister, you and your own sisters, he just knows that 'nothing' rarely means that. He does a quick mental check to see if he's done anything wrong to warrant you closing up like this, finding nothing; and since when you are not less than sincere with him?

"Is it work? Did something happen?"

"Nothing happen, truly Aemond"

Then why are you avoiding my eye? And why are you drinking?  He wonders.

He consciously blocks your path by standing between you and the door. He has no idea of what is going on, but he will find out before you two go back to bed.

"Aemond? What are you doing? Are you still drunk?" you squeak in surprise

"Never been more sober in my entire life. I want to know why you were normal before and now you are not talking to me".

Ah shit, you think.

"I don't know what are you talking about. I am talking to you"

"Please don't insult my intelligence. You've always looked into my eye, never given me the 'nothing' treatment, you never drink alcohol in the middle of the night alone in the kitchen like a thief and now you act like a completely different person. What is happening?".

The problem with Aemond is that he's far too bright for his own sake. His inquisitive mind has already destroyed many of his relationships, romantic or not, because he can't let go, because he wants the truth, always, at whatever cost.

"Last time I checked this is my house and I do what the hell I want - you slam the whiskey bottle on the counter - now make way!".

You try to push him away from the door frame with zero results, he's far too heavy for you to manhandle. His hands fly to your shoulders, light and warm, causing goosebumps to bloom on your skin and warmth to spread, you have to turn your head or he'll read the truth in your eyes.

"Why are you acting this way? - gently he moves your head to look into your eyes - is it something that I did or say?".  

Your heart breaks at the sadness lacing his voice. You know he's always battled with feeling like a failure and with guilt because of his father's lack of love: of course he thinks he's at fault.

"You did nothing wrong, truly Aemond. Of the two of us it's me who is wrong - gently you remove his hand from your face and hold it tight - I don't want to talk about it because it would destroy our friendship, that's all. Let's go back to bed and call it a day, ok?".

Of course he can't let go, of course he needs to know the truth.

"What is it? What happened? - there's a strain of panic in his voice - Please tell me! Nothing will destroy our friendship, I promise!".

You don't know if it's the panic in his voice or if it is the way his hands shake on your skin or the wild emotions in your heart, your brain acts before any filter can stop it.

"Because I am in love with you Aemond. There! Now I said it and our friendship is gone!".

The tears in your eyes make your vision swim , the only thing you want to do now is curl up and cry with the bottle of whiskey in your hands. You've just lost your best friend, your brother, you want to mourn. You can't see Aemond's expression, you can feel him gently maneuver your face against his naked chest, to let you cry there as he caresses your scalp, soft nothings spilling from his lips, until you are done, eyes red and puffy.

"Why would this ruin our friendship? - his voice is soft - I have always been in love with you, all my life"

"What? - naked surprise in your voice - What do you mean all you life?"

"What it says on the tin. I've tried dating other people but you were always on my mind. No one could even compare to you".

With a flash you remember the handful of girls he dated through the years, only now you realize how similar to you they all were.

"Why did you never say a thing?"

"I was waiting for you to realize".

You look at him with incredulous eyes

"You kept mum for all these years? What if I never did?"

"I always had faith in you".

You think back to the astoundingly amount of failed relationships in your life, how much Aemond coming clear would have saved you from all the heartache. You remember the person you used to be: you wouldn't have loved him back, you were a different before, non capable of truly appreciate what Aemond has to offer as a person.

"Oh Aemond, I am so sorry. You had to live through all my past relationships. It must have hurt like hell".

He hums softly, a soft smile on his face.

"You did the same with me"

"I didn't know that you loved me. I wouldn't have saddled you, otherwise".

His hands gently cup your cheeks, his palms are soft and warm, his touch gentle.

"It's in the past, all gone my love - he cocks his head to the side and hums again - may I do something I always wanted to do?"

"What is that?"

"Give you the best kiss of your entire life"

"Promises, promises. Let me be the judge of that and I might need more samples before I can form my opinion".

Aemond smirks, cocky, his hunger for you burns in his lonely eye.

"You can have all the samples you need, for however long you deem necessary".

He vows to do so for the rest of his life and he manages.

Everything taglist: @ilikeitbetterangsty

Aemond taglist : @phantoms-main-blog

[youtubeyouniversitytherapy]

#1 Check in // July'24 - Matt H.W.

Matt was almost always tired at therapy. He at least had medical conditions that could excuse it, but if he overshot it and was too wired there was no way out of the questioning he would get. So he looks across at Dean Tat with lidded eyes and she stares at him through their first few minutes of therapy. He thinks this might be the lucky day she had given up on him, but just as he curiously tilts his head, she smiles warmly. “How have you been adjusting to the new residents on campus?” She asks, looking at him intently even as her hand makes marks on her notepad. Her pencil sounds so loud… couldn’t this bitch use a pen? No… she’d probably click it and see if she could make him break down. He was being tested. She knew, but there was no body to find. Just a dead man walking that was captive to her office for an hour. She wasn’t his usual but he knew that didn’t mean she won’t know what the other dean knew. She wasn’t a good target for any lying games that get him out of this honesty hour.

“I liked the old ones.” He mutters in reply and turns his eyes out to the outside, the hot sun beams filter through the tree leaves outside to a tolerable heat once it hits the window. 

“I understand that, but all the same, how are they settling in?” “Fine I guess…” he sighs trying to push down the thoughts that like to crawl up from the depths his darkest blues. Tracing the choice tree through what he could have done differently to keep anyone as if it were in his power. “I haven’t met them all… but I really like one of them.” He shrugs.

“Oh go on!” She smiles excitedly, even putting her pen and paper down. Was this truly off the books or did she just know how to make him feel comfortable? 

“I call her Aimee, she calls me Eugene. We don’t know each other’s names its just fun.” He tries to cut off any interpretations of that but she’s giving him that inquisitive look.

“What makes it fun?”

“The mystery? Maybe just like…the joke?” he shrugs and looks away from her gain.“The joke being that you don’t really know each other?” She ask with a tilt of her head and this stupid sympathetic look in her eyes. “Do you feel like you’re having trouble opening up again?” She pushes and he stays quietly looking outside. “Does she remind you of-”

“Of course she does!” He cuts her off, fearing any name she might say. He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Everything reminds me of everything! Hello! It’s one of the reasons I’m here.” He slouches back on the couch and gazes at the trees outside. He peers around the scenery, thinking maybe he’d see him out there, but he knew they knew better than that.

  There’s another break of silence as Dean Tat writes a few notes in her book. Her pencil strokes sound softer, like she was defeatedly muttering these notes than loudly reading him. “You seem on edge.” She says calm and steady, and when his eyes go to meet her scribbling he finds her gaze narrowed right in on him. “Any cravings?” His skin crawls, hairs prickling up. God that made him sound so pathetic! Was he craving anything? Did he wanna have a little cheat day with the girls? 

The worst part about it was that it was true.

He wanted a little treat. He’d try to avoid it and prove he didn’t need it but he’d buckle to have a good time with the girls. Girl. 

“I guess… nothing I can’t handle, especially with Ryan’s support.” He looks back to her, a challenge in his face for her to call him on his shit. “I look at him and it keeps me clean… Wouldn’t want to disappoint him.”

“I’m sure he appreciates that, that it’s very healing for him to see you on the up and up.”Ouch. She was stone cold with a marksman’s precision. He wished she just call him a slur and kick him out.

“I bet.” He gaze falls back to the window as he yawns, laying his head on the back of the couch, severely slumped into it now. “You wouldn’t be able to tell me what he says to you about me, would you?” Why would he ask that? Another yawn, he tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

              “Of course I could. It’s about you right? You should know what he says about you.”What?

              “You want to know what he says when he doesn’t talk. You want to know what he hides.”

He doesn’t hide

              “Even from you.”

  “No-” 

  Matt wakes with a start from a laying position on the therapy couch, his head feels like it is filled with syrup that is sloshing around as he tries to move, but as it settles back into place he slowly comes to. His phone is quietly buzzing, Dean Tat is typing at her desk. 

“Fuck….. Sorry.”

“You’re perfectly fine Mathew, I’m aware of your condition.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not embarrassing.” He mutters and remembers why he had his dreadful cravings. The sun was no longer shining through the trees but peeking through the buildings nearby, the golden hour exploding on the horizon. “How long?”

“Maybe forty-five minutes. It’s definitely one way to get out of talking about your feelings.” She shoots him a lighthearted but stern warning in a glance. “Don’t try and make a habit of it, we don’t want to have to hook you up to a vitals machine for every session.” Disheveled and sleepy he has no wit to fight back with, so he just nods, gathers himself and heads out with some generic and mutter goodbyes. He finally answers his phone and frowns against the black glass.

“Sorry, I fell asleep. I’m heading out now.

…… Sorry if I worried you……..

I dunno jus- …..  

  ….. Okay….. 

See you in a second… yeah… 

love you………………..”

[itzynabi]

that’s so evie episode 16

posted: 7 july 2023

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mention of food

an: insta post can be found here. honestly don’t know how or why this got so long. words in [] are captions. i mean no disrespect by blurring out someone’s face, it’s just so you don’t get confused with the face claim. feedback and reblogs are much appreciated 💐

eve’s masterlist // that’s so evie

“Hello everyone and welcome to another episode of That’s So Evie,” Eve greeted, from inside the kitchen. “Today’s guests are very old people that I’ve known for a very long time. Please come in!”

[Nuneo fairy with unrivalled acting skills. Junho!]

[Whether it’s romance or melodrama, she can do it. Yoona!]

[Meeting in hot K-Drama King The Land every Saturday and Sunday at 22:30]

Yoona and Junho moonwalked into the frame on either side of Eve as the staff cheered. They bowed to Eve, who blinked in confusion.

“What’s going on?” She asked no one in particular.

“We wanted to have a cool entrance,” Junho said.

“Was that cool?”

Yoona nodded. “You wouldn’t know. You have to be cool to know what’s cool.” She nudged Eve gently. “Continue on with the show.”

“You have to introduce yourselves.”

“Oh, right!” Junho chuckled nervously. “Hello, I’m Lee Junho.”

“I’m Im Yoona,” she introduced herself.

“Thank you for coming on the show,” Eve said, bowing her head in both of their directions.

“What are we doing?” Junho asked.

“Today, we’re making chocolate puffs,” Eve told them. “Since King The Land is a romance drama, I searched up romantic desserts and chocolate puffs was the first one that showed up, so we’re making that.”

Yoona scoffed. “You didn’t even p–”

“The first step is to preheat the oven!” Eve loudly interrupted the older woman. “I don’t know how to use an oven so… can someone do that?”

“You don’t know how to use an oven?” Junho asked as he preheated all of their ovens. “Why not?”

Eve shrugged. “Just.”

“What do you mean ‘just’? You have a baking show,” he teased.

“It hasn’t been a hindrance so far,” she said. “Anyways, we’re each going to make ten because I know you’ll want more after we’re done.”

“Shouldn’t we wear aprons?” Yoona asked.

“You two should also tie your hair back, right?” Junho asked, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Are there any emergency staff on site?”

The two continued to fire off more questions, Eve looking more and more exasperated.

[Sigh]

“I’m gonna kick you off of my show,” Eve whined, causing them to laugh. “Stop being inquisitive!”

“Okay, okay, we’re done.”

“Now, as you can see, we all have a baking tray, a roll of puff pastry, chocolate spread, mini marshmallows and chocolate chips.” She pointed at all of the objects on the table in front of them. “We’re going to take one puff pastry and place it on the counter.”

They copied her. “We’re going to add a teaspoonful of chocolate spread to the centre of the pastry and then spread it evenly.”

“I can’t find my centre,” Junho complained.

“Yah, how can’t you find your centre?” Yoona chortled, smoothing out her chocolate spread.

“Junho-yah, this is a simple recipe,” Eve jokingly scolded, fighting a smile when Junho dropped his spoon on the table and put his hands behind his back, hanging his head. “Why are you already struggling?”

“I’m sorry,” he apologised in a deep voice. “I’ll try better, ma’am.”

[Sudden skit]

“This is a renowned establishment. We can’t expect anything less than perfection.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I might have to fire you.”

Yoona gasped. “You’re acting like one of the characters in King The Land.”

Eve’s face broke into a smile. “Is she nice?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Her smile dropped. “Moving on, we’re going to add mini marshmallows on top of the spread.”

“Wait, I still need to put my spread on,” Junho reminded her as he focused on putting the chocolate spread on his puff pastry.

Yoona cleared her throat loudly. “How much longer are you going to take?”

“About five minutes.” He slowed his hand down as he observed his work. Squinting his eyes, he nodded and put his spoon down. “Okay, I’m done.”

[Constant skits]

“Now, we’re going to add mini marshmallows and chocolate chips,” Eve told them. “You can use one or the other or both.”

“I’m going to use marshmallows,” Junho said.

“I’ll use choco chips,” Yoona said.

“I’m using both,” Eve said.

Yoona flinched. “Isn’t that going to be very sweet? Will your teeth be able to handle them?”

“My teeth are very strong.”

“Let me see.”

Eve showed Yoona her teeth, also turning to show Junho. The three then ended up showing each other their teeth.

“You’re like a dentist’s dream,” one of the cameramen commented, causing everyone to laugh.

“Let’s continue, let’s continue,” Yoona urged as she laughed.

“Okay,” Eve chuckled. She cleared her throat, suddenly turning serious. “After putting our toppings on, we’re going to fold over each corner until it makes a perfect square. And then, we’re going to put them on the baking pan and make the other pastries.”

“Is that all?” Junho asked, shocked at how short the recipe was.

Eve nodded. “Yeah, it’s only four steps.”

“This is going to be over so quickly,” Yoona whined. “We only started.”

[It’s been fifteen minutes since they started baking]

“We still have to bake it, though,” Eve reminded her.

“Oh, right! We’ll be here for a while.”

They worked on the rest of their pastries, before putting them in their respective ovens.

“They’re going to bake for twenty-five minutes,” Eve told them.

“It’s going to be over soon, though,” Junho said, wiping the counter with his pointer finger.

Eve chuckled. “Why do I feel like getting them out of here is going to be a challenge?”

“Are you sick of us?” Yoona asked, her voice ticking up at the end.

“I never said that,” Eve whined. “Why are you twisting my words?”

“This is why you’re not her favourite Yoona-yah,” Junho chided softly, waving his arm in her direction.

Yoona’s mouth dropped open. “Yah! I’m her favourite!” She argued, not noticing how Eve had taken a step back so she could observe the two argue.

“You’ve made her sigh so many times today. But I’ve only made her laugh.”

Yoona scoffed. “Don’t make me laugh.” She turned to Eve. “When did you get back there?” She pointed at the younger girl, seeing how she was standing against the ovens.

“When you started shouting in my kitchen,” Eve answered, resting her elbows on the counter.

“Anyways, we need you to settle this for us. Who is your favourite?”

“Key.”

The two guests stared at her in confusion.

“No, no, no,” Junho said, shaking his head. “Out of us two, who is your favourite?”

“Ah… I don’t know. I’ve never thought about it.”

“Think about it now, please.”

Eve sighed. “Okay.”

“You see? You’re also making her sigh!” Yoona pointed out, pointing at Eve. “I’m not the only one.”

“That was one time,” Junho argued. “You’ve made her sigh eighteen times now.”

Yoona laughed. “That’s not true.”

Eve frowned cutely as she thought, not paying attention to the guests having a petty argument in front of her. She scratched her chin, making eye contact with one of the camera directors. They stared at each other before Eve nodded.

[Silent communication is easy when you work together]

“We’ll sort out who my favourite is,” Eve interrupted Junho, “by who can flatter me the most.”

“Flatter you?” Junho asked, leaning forward to make sure he heard Eve properly.

“Yes.” Eve nodded.

“Princess-nim,” Yoona said in a cute tone without missing a beat.

“Princess-nim, do you want water?” Junho asked, copying Yoona. “Princess-nim, are you tired of standing? Do you want me to carry you?”

Everyone in the kitchen burst out laughing at how committed Junho was to winning.

“How am I supposed to compete against that?” Yoona complained through her laughter. “Nabi, I can’t carry you,” she said, causing everyone to laugh harder. Eve dropped to her knees as she laughed.

“Junho wins this round,” Eve announced. Though, because she was laughing so hard, her words came out as wheezes.

“What?”

Eve cleared her throat, trying to calm herself down. “Junho wins this round,” she repeated in a clearer voice.

Junho fist pumped, ecstatic about his win. “Thank you, thank you.”

[Junho: 1 / Yoona: 0]

Yoona sighed, looking around the room in defeat. “But I’m your ahjumma,” she argued.

Eve nodded. “That’s true.”

“But I… have cats,” Junho appealed to Eve.

“That’s also true.”

Yoona scoffed. “Has he ever let you play with his cats?”

“Point to Yoona.”

“Yes!” She exclaimed victoriously.

[Junho: 1 / Yoona: 1]

Junho looked past the cameras to his staff. “Do I have time to go home and bring my cats?”

“Suddenly?” His manager asked.

“I want to be her favourite.” He pointed at Eve.

“There’s no time.”

“Really?” He sucked his teeth as he thought. “When next are you going to the company building?” He asked Eve.

“I don’t know.”

“You should text me, and I’ll bring my cats,” he vowed. “I’ll bring all of them.”

Eve broke into a big smile. “Really.”

Junho nodded cockily. “Of course. Just give me a day and a time and I’ll see if I’m free.”

“Junho, point!”

[Junho: 2 / Yoona: 1]

“Nabi, don’t forget that Chaeryeong-ssi is a SONE and she’d be very upset if you didn’t let me win,” Yoona said.

[Suddenly bringing up Chaeryeong]

“She’d be very upset,” Eve agreed. “Yoona, point!”

[Junho: 2 / Yoona: 2]

“But,” Junho started,” when 2PM made our comeback, you were there to MC. But when Girls’ Generation made theirs, you weren’t.”

“Right, why weren’t you there?” Yoona asked, suddenly getting serious. “We were in our group chat talking about how we were going to annoy you when you had to interview us, but you weren’t there.”

“I was at KCON in LA,” Eve said. “I had other schedules, but I was really upset that I couldn’t be there. I’ve been waiting for the comeback, but when you had it, I wasn’t even in the country.”

Junho hummed as he nodded. “But she was free to interview us when we had our comeback,” he mentioned, sounding like a child bragging to his friends.

“She couldn’t control her schedule, so this one shouldn’t count,” Yoona argued.

“That’s true,” Eve agreed. “So I’ll instead ask you a question worth ten points. It’s our tie breaker.”

“Already?” Yoona expressed her shock. “We just started this competition.”

“Is there any way you can save this question for later and let us have two more rounds of appealing ourselves?” Junho bargained.

Eve chuckled. “Okay. You may continue.”

“Hmmm. Oh!” Yoona exclaimed before chuckling deviously. “Your favourite colour is pink and Girls’ Generations’ official colour is pink.”

“It’s not pink, it’s pastel rose,” Eve corrected. “But point to you, nonetheless.”

[Junho: 2 / Yoona: 3]

“What else can I say?” Junho muttered to himself, resting his hand on the counter in front of him. He turned to face Eve again when he thought of something. “We’re in the same company,” he said. “We have a loyalty to each other.”

“True.”

[Junho: 3 / Yoona: 3]

“Didn’t I give you advice for your monthly evaluations?” Yoona asked. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You spent more time joking around then actually giving advice, but it made me laugh so I’ll give you a point.”

[Junho: 3 / Yoona: 4]

“This is my last one,” Junho said, “then you can ask your ten point question.”

“Okay!”

He held his hand out in front of him. “Lia-ssi sang the OST for The Red Sleeve. And because of that, I will do the challenge for the next ITZY comeback.”

[Amazing offer!!!!]

Eve exclaimed. “You promise?”

“I promise.” He held out his pinky finger so they could make the promise official.

“You can’t go back on your word,” she warned him as Yoona groaned. “I’ll make sure to hunt you down before we finish promotions.”

Junho laughed, thinking Eve was joking until he saw her facial expression. “Are you serious?”

“This one’s like a psycho,” Yoona said. “She once used Find My iPhone on me because I took too long to answer her text. I was so shocked when she showed up,” she told everyone.

“We had business we had to do,” Eve argued.

[The business was that Eve was bored and wanted to hang out with someone]

“Besides, you told me I can bother you when I feel like it. Anyways, point to Junho!”

[Junho: 4 / Yoona: 4]

Yoona nodded. “I’m so glad you don’t ask me to do challenges,” she admitted with a laugh. “Your dances are so hard. You should’ve asked me to do the challenge for glassy. That one’s nice and easy.”

“Immediately after I made that promise, I saw a vision in my head of WANNABE,” Junho said, much to everyone’s amusement. “The shoulder dance.” He groaned. “What have I gotten myself into?”

“It’ll be fine,” Eve said, waving Junho off. “Don’t worry. You’re a pro. Anyways, now it’s time for the ten point question.”

“Ah, majda. I forgot,” Yoona said.

“It’s a very easy question,” Eve said. “You should get it right.”

“What is it?” Junho asked.

“Junho has to tell me what my favourite 2PM song is and Yoona has to tell me what my favourite Girls’ Generation song is.”

[...]

A silence took over the kitchen as both of the actors thought about the question. The only sound was the slight hum of the ovens.

“Do you guys not know?” Eve asked, shocked at their reactions.

“It’s not that, we’re just thinking it over,” Yoona explained. “We have many songs.”

“I only have one favourite from those songs, though.”

“I think I know it!” Junho said, raising his hand. “Again & Again?”

“Correct!”

[Junho: 14 / Yoona: 4]

“I win!” He yelled victoriously, pumping both of his fists above his head.

Yoona sighed, sad that she didn’t win. “Is there even a point to me answering the question?”

“Yes,” Eve said. “I want to know if you know.”

“The Boys.”

[...]

“You really don’t know me.”

Yoona’s eyes widened. “That’s not your favourite?”

“Of course not. Refreshing concept,” Eve whined.

“Gee?”

“Is Gee refreshing?”

“Ah, it must be Holiday,” she guessed again.

“That’s closer, but you’re still wrong. It’s Lion Heart.”

Yoona groaned, biting her lip. “Lion Heart.”

“I thought it was Genie,” Junho said. “Or Mr.Mr.”

“I should’ve guessed those ones.”

“Yoona-yah, it’s okay,” Eve comforted. “You just don’t know anything at all. But in the end, as it stands, Junho wins!”

“Yes, thank you.” He bowed. “It’s an honour. To be chosen as Nabi’s favourite is something I’ve dreamed of since I debuted. It’s truly meaningful to win the title of Nabi’s favourite. I’ll continue to work to be a person Nabi can be proud to call her favourite.”

Eve nodded. “Honestly, we were supposed to use this time to talk about King The Land, but you guys suddenly started arguing,” she told them. “In the script, after we put the chocolate puffs in the oven, we talk about King The Land.”

“We were having so much fun that we forgot we were here to work,” Junho said. “But Yoona can introduce it to the viewers.”

Yoona exclaimed, “What? Um, okay. Our show King The Land is about Gu Won, played by Junho-yah, and Cheon Sarang, played by me. Gu Won is in an inheritance battle with his noona over the family hotel conglomerate, The King Group. Sarang works as a hotelier in the hotel, which has been her dream since childhood. The two characters meet and have to work together despite having bad first impressions of each other.”

“It sounds fun,” Eve said.

“We had a lot of fun when we were filming,” Junho said. “Acting opposite Yoona was really fun and she’s an amazing actress.”

“Junho can be very comical and our chemistry made it easy to film together,” Yoona added.

“That’s nice. You’re both really good actors,” Eve complimented.

“You too. I watched The Little Mermaid and you did the dub for the speaking part also,” Yoona commented.

“I wasn’t supposed to,” Eve revealed. “When I auditioned, I thought it was just for singing. When I got to the audition site, I was handed the sheet music and asked to sing and I did. Then, I was suddenly asked to read the script for the scene where Ariel is explaining why she helped Eric, so I did. Then a few days later, I was told that I was going to do the singing and the voice acting.”

“That’s how good you are,” Junho concluded. “You were offered that part because they could see your talent.”

“You even have Ariel’s hair,” Yoona pointed out.

“I had to do this for Kill My Doubt. It wasn’t for the movie,” Eve said, playing with the ends of her hair.

“Let’s just say it was for the movie.”

“But your voice sounds very similar to the original actress, Halle Bailey,” Junho said. “I was so shocked.”

“The casting staff told me that, but I don’t hear it.” Eve shook her head. “I don’t think we sound alike. Maybe I’m crazy.”

“You must not have good hearing,” Yoona mused.

Eve pouted before noticing the camera director calling for her attention. “Ah, it’s been twenty-five minutes, so let’s check on the chocolate puffs.”

The three idols opened their respective ovens, taking their baking trays out. They checked over the colour of the pastry, deciding that it was good enough.

“Please switch off my oven, Junho,” Eve asked.

“Why don’t you know how to use an oven?” Junho asked as he switched off everyone’s oven. He stood up, standing on Eve’s right again.

“I don’t want to,” Eve answered. “Because when I was younger, I would ask Key oppa to help me with everything, but now that I’m older, I depend on him less and less. He doesn’t say anything, but I can tell he’s upset. So there are certain things I refuse to learn how to do.”

Yoona nodded. “That’s very thoughtful.”

“Yeah. Anyways, we need to let them cool down a little bit before we eat them otherwise they’ll be too hot.”

They talked more about King The Land as they waited for their pastries to cool down. Junho brushed Eve’s hair when it got in her face, Yoona making sure the younger girl didn’t accidentally touch the baking tray as it was still hot.

“I think it’s cooled now,” Yoona said.

“You’re right,” Eve agreed. “Please taste them.”

The two guests picked up one chocolate pocket each and took a bite. They both stopped moving when they tasted the food.

“This is really good,” Junho said, his voice dropping octaves.

Yoona groaned. “This is really nice! Wait a second.” She took another bite. “What is this?”

“I must make this at home,” Junho said. “This is crazy.”

Eve smirked as they freaked out over the dessert. “It’s what I do on Friday’s at four o’clock.” She shrugged. “It’s part of the job.”

“I’m so glad we made multiple.”

“But I think I’m going to need more,” Yoona said.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” Eve began, “but we need to wrap up now.”

“No,” Junho whined.

“We don’t want to go,” Yoona added, also whining.

“But you have to,” Eve said. “Please say your ending comments.”

“This was very fun. I hope the next time I’m here, the filming time is longer,” Junho said. “Nabi is a very good ho– Wait, are we supposed to be calling you Eve?” He asked her.

Eve shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Nabi is my name, Eve is a name. Just whatever you feel like.”

“Okay! She’s a very good host,” Junho continued. “And very funny so we had a lot of fun. Please remember to tune into King The Land on JTBC every Saturday and Sunday at ten thirty.”

“We’ve been filming a lot of promotional videos lately,” Yoona started, “so we’re a little tired, but being on That’s So Evie gave us newfound energy. I don’t know if it’s because we were baking or if it’s because we were baking with Nabi, but it was very energising. I hope the viewers continue to show That’s So Evie a lot of love and please also watch King The Land. Thank you.”

Eve clapped. “Thank you for coming to That’s So Evie amongst your busy schedules,” she thanked the two guests before facing the front camera. “I hope you enjoyed today’s video and please remember to watch King The Land.” She waved at the camera. “Bye! I love you!”

[Bonus footage

The story of how Junho and Yoona didn’t want to leave]

“No, but this was very fun,” Yoona said.

Eve hummed in agreement. “Now let’s all go.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

“Me too,” Junho agreed. “Let’s just stay.”

“We only booked this studio for an hour and we have fifteen minutes left,” Eve said, sounding exhausted. “We need to pack up all of our stuff and wash the dishes we used. We have to get going.”

“Are you tired?” Yoona asked.

“Go.”

“Are you kicking us out?” Junho asked. “I’m hurt.”

“I’m also hurt,” Eve whined. “Go.”

“Okay, okay.” Junho picked up his baking tray. “If you want us to leave that bad.” He and Yoona walked out of the frame.

“I love you!” Eve called out to them.

“We love you too!” Yoona replied over her shoulder.

reactions

an: decided to make eve the korean dub for the little mermaid and idk why i was so hesitant to in the first place

tagging: @seolboba // @ateezivy // @ateezjuliet // @cafemilk-tea // @smh-anon // @alixnsuperstxr // @cosmicwintr // @girlzwfun // @txt-yaomi // @moongrlz

©️ kim nabi

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 17

summary: back to life as usual after New York, some insight into Charlotte's mind.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: hi guys! this chapter is shorter than normal but I really wanted to get something out since it's been a minute! I've been on vacation so I've been writing here and there but nothing ready to put out yet. I promise there will be a few chapters coming VERY soon with more action! thanks for reading, as always!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

As the early morning sunlight bathed the Avengers' compound in a warm glow, Charlotte stood outside Bucky's room, gathering her courage. She had been wrestling the idea for nearly an hour, but now that she was here, uncertainty gnawed at her. It was an unholy hour of the morning, the sun just barely beginning to peek out over the horizon. She was clad head to toe in her black athletic wear, tennis shoes shifting on the floor as she debated making a run for the elevator. 

Don’t be stupid, it isn’t that big of a deal. If you don’t deal with it now, it’ll just be weird later. 

With a determined exhale, she knocked on Bucky's door, the sound echoing through the quiet common room. After a brief pause, the door swung open, revealing Bucky standing on the other side, pulling a gray hoodie the rest of the way down over his abdomen. The smell of black coffee wafted out of his room.

"Morning," he greeted her with a small smile, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. 

"Hey," Charlotte replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Figured I’d get an early start today and I know you usually do, too. Might as well run together?”

Bucky's lips twitched in amusement, and he stepped back to let her in. The bed was already made and she had a hunch he’d been up for longer than he’d admit. "Sure, why not? I could use the exercise."

Charlotte couldn't resist a teasing grin. "Yeah, Sarge, you've really been letting yourself go," she quipped, her eyes flicking playfully over his chiseled frame for a moment longer than strictly necessary.

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he finished lacing up his shoes. "Yeah, yeah. Let's go, then."

They made their way out of the compound and onto the trail that wound around the nearby lake, the crisp morning air doing a better job of waking them up than coffee ever did. Neither of them spoke much, but to Charlotte’s relief, it was a comfortable silence rather than a tense one. Both sets of eyes were locked on the swell of color across the lake as the sun broke from the horizon. After some light stretching, more of a formality for super soldiers anyways, they began to run. As they fell into step beside each other, any tension that had lingered between them dissipated, replaced by the easy camaraderie that had become second nature over the past months.

“You sure you can keep up, old man?” Charlotte grinned over her shoulder.

Bucky shot her a mock glare, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Please. I could outrun you blindfolded and carrying an extra fifty pounds." He lifted his left arm out of his stride and waggled his fingers at her. “Which I am.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, laughing. “Well you’re in luck, because I forgot to bring my blindfold."

“Damn.” He shook his head, loose hair falling with the motion and the wind blowing past him.

The rest of their run passed in a blur of lighthearted banter, normalcy flooding what had been a big question mark after this past weekend in New York. What happened, or almost happened, hadn’t been discussed by either of them. 

______

“Eat shit, Rogers.” Tony threw his hands up as Steve sailed a dart right into the bullseye -- again. 

“Nobody likes a sore loser, Stark.” Steve grinned good-naturedly and held a bottle out to Tony. “Drink up.” 

My stomach hurt from laughing (and eating) way too much, but I didn’t regret either. I was certain that my head would join in the pounding when I woke up the next morning. Rather, when I woke up later today, considering the clock read just past 1am. Pepper had long since gone to bed, and shortly after went Sam and Calla. Peter had passed out on the sectional, narrowly avoiding having something profane drawn on him by Steve’s well-timed challenge of darts. Natasha stood confidently to the side, waiting to challenge whoever the winner was, clearly Captain America himself. I held onto my glass with no intention of finishing the champagne inside of it. I’d gotten myself a refill over an hour ago and only taken one sip. 

Maybe because the molten lava in my chest threatened to burn me alive if I let any more of my judgment fall away. Bucky sat across from Wanda and I, one hand holding a glass of water and the other draped across the back of the couch. His face had a grin plastered on it as he watched the game unfold, but his eyes were just as dazed and unseeing as mine felt. After Sam had snapped us out of…whatever that was, we’d both retreated back into the party. Besides the occasional white-hot bits of eye contact across the chaos, no evidence of our moment remained. I couldn’t decide if I was grateful or resentful of Sam for stopping us, whether he knew what he was doing or not. Based on our history, he might have thought he was breaking up a potential bar fight. I’ll give him that much. 

After watching Natasha wipe the floor with Steve, who was only slightly more gracious in defeat than Tony, Wanda stood and declared that she was going to bed. A murmur of agreement went around the room, the rest of us slowly succumbing to exhaustion from the day and the alcohol. 

“Leave it all, my cleaning staff is paid very handsomely,” Tony waved his hand as he stumbled towards the elevator. “Goodnight you vagrants, the pleasure is all yours.” 

“Char, you coming?” Wanda looked back at me as she strode towards the doors on the far side of the vast living room. 

“I’ll be a few minutes, I’m gonna find some Tylenol.” I smiled warmly and returned her blown kiss as she nodded. Liar. While I could probably have benefited from some, finding medication wasn’t my priority. I turned back to the living room where Steve had slowly roused Peter and was all but carrying him to an empty room. Bucky was looking on, unsure if he should help or laugh. As Steve retreated further from us, Bucky turned and locked eyes with me. The sudden quiet and lack of distractions felt like it was crushing my chest as I stared into his blue eyes. He was only ten feet away from me, which somehow felt too far and terrifyingly too close all at once. Before I could move, speak, or think, Natasha’s hand stuck out in front of me. 

“Here you go. I assume it’s a double dose for you like the other two.” She opened her fist to reveal a handful of small, white pills. In the other, she offered me a glass of water. “Drink up. It’ll help for tomorrow.” 

I nodded and obliged her, swallowing the handful of pills and washing it down with the rest of the glass as I tried not to will her to leave the room. 

“Need any, Barnes?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “I quit drinking about an hour ago.” His eyes flicked back to me. 

“Smarter than you look.” Nat winked. “‘Night, Buck. Come on, I’ll show you the best room left.” She looped her arm through mine and led me towards the dark half of the room everyone had disappeared to. I let her pull me away, but my gaze lingered behind me. 

“G’night Sarge,” I willed myself to sound normal but heard the breathlessness in my own voice.

“Goodnight Charlotte.”

As we got to the threshold of my room for the night, Nat squeezed my arm. “Listen, you can do what you want with who you want. I won’t stop you. But not many good things have come out of drunken late nights at this tower. Sleep on it, and if you feel the same way tomorrow, I’ll buy Barnes a box of condoms myself.” 

“Nat!” I hissed, my cheeks warming as I scanned the room for any sign of him. His door was already closed, the faintest sound of a shower running coming from behind it. 

“Sweet dreams. Thank me later.” She winked and disappeared behind the door next to me, leaving me alone in the massive, suddenly oppressively quiet, space.

______

Later that evening, the normal routine commenced. Sam had taken advantage of the beautiful spring weather and grilled burgers for everyone, claiming his time to shine was during barbeque season. They’d eaten on the balcony and watched the sun sink down. It was a normal day of training, but it felt longer to everyone after being gone for the weekend. 

Charlotte rolled out her neck as she stood at the sink, stiff from all the martial arts work she’d done with Natasha earlier that day. “Next?” She reached out a hand, Wanda giving her another stack of dirty dishes. 

"Hey, careful with that plate, Char," Natasha teased, a smirk playing on her lips. "We don't want to break any more of the fancy dinnerware. I think SHIELD takes it out of our paychecks."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but couldn't suppress a grin. "Hey, if SHIELD is so great at engineering, why aren’t the plates superhuman-proof," she retorted, earning a chuckle from Wanda. She’d broken a dish during her first rotation on clean up duty, not realizing how slippery the soap made them. Even though their teasing was good-natured, part of it still made Charlotte shrink inside. She hadn’t wanted to admit the reason she didn’t know anh better was because she’d never actually done dishes before. It was yet another small, seemingly insignificant task that had just never been necessary. She’d either been stealing food, eating on the cruise ship she sailed to the United States, eating takeout, or most recently, living off of hotel room service in Las Vegas. She’d never even owned her own set of dishes. She didn’t fear judgment from any of them, it was more of her own insecurities that she preferred to keep hidden. Everyone treated her so normally, had been so accepting that she hardly felt out of place at all. Calling attention to everything she didn’t know or hadn’t done seemed counterintuitive.

As they finished tidying up, the group reconvened in the living area, settling in for a movie night. Peter took charge of selecting the film, much to the amusement of the rest of the team.

"What's it gonna be this time, kid? Another one of your vintage classics?" Sam quipped, earning a mock offended look from Peter.

"Hey, my taste in movies is impeccable, thank you very much," Peter shot back, scrolling through the extensive list of options on the large screen. A collective ‘no’ came from the group when he passed the Star Wars saga yet again. They settled on an action-romance movie that Charlotte had never heard of, but if it fit the criteria of both Wanda and Peter, she supposed it couldn’t be half bad. 

The movie was good. As she watched the action sequences, Charlotte found her mind whirring away, cataloging their fighting styles and the acrobatics of the actors. Frowning, she realized how impractical and unrealistic it all was. She shook her head, willing herself to forget anything she’d just witnessed, lest it come back to bite her in the ass in a training session. 

Shoddy fight scenes aside, it was a good movie. The two lead actors were beautiful, looking like a match made in heaven. About halfway into the movie, the tension between them finally unfolded in a steamy makeout with lingering camera shots that left little to the imagination. Sam jokingly covered Peter’s eyes, lightening the mood as the room laughed. 

However, as the characters onscreen stripped off their clothes, Charlotte's discomfort began to intensify. She watched with a mixture of fascination and trepidation as the scene unfolded, her heart rate quickening with each passing moment.

When the characters moved to the bedroom, the camera again lingering on their wandering hands and heavy breathing and the movement of their bodies, Charlotte felt a surge of insecurity wash over her. She couldn't help but compare herself to the characters onscreen, feeling acutely aware of her own lack of experience. It hadn’t bothered her this much in a while. She recalled the first time she’d watched a salacious scene, sitting in her bed in Las Vegas, and felt herself blush despite being alone. She’d realized she was older than almost everyone she’d ever met and somehow less experienced. The only thing that brought her comfort was the fact that she had no prospects and, more importantly, no interest in being physically intimate with anyone. 

But now…

She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that she was somehow inadequate, especially when she recalled Steve's jokes about Bucky's past exploits as a ladies' man. He had been older when he was captured by HYDRA, already a man. She’d been so young, basically having grown up in the facility. Although she was grown now, there were certain experiences she just never felt comfortable having. Shame crept up her cheeks as she watched the female onscreen moan, looking ethereal and beautiful and so confident. 

Sensing her discomfort, Natasha cast a concerned glance in her direction. "You okay, Char?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the soundtrack of the movie.

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her mind racing with a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Finally, she nodded, offering Natasha a forced smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

After the credits rolled and the rest of the team began to disperse to their rooms, Natasha lingered behind, her gaze fixed on Charlotte as she grabbed water from the fridge. 

"Hey, you seemed a little off during the movie," Natasha remarked gently, her voice soft and reassuring. "Is everything okay?"

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, grappling with her embarrassment before finally deciding to confide in her friend. "Yeah, I guess I was feeling a bit... out of my depth," she admitted.

Natasha's brows furrowed as she asked gently, “How so?” 

Charlotte hesitated for a moment, her gaze flickering to the TV screen where the romantic scene played out before returning to Natasha. "It's just..." she trailed off, her cheeks flushing faintly as she gestured vaguely at the screen. "I just don't have much experience with... that," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her normal bravado and attitude was nowhere to be found, instead seeming like the scared little girl she still felt like on the inside more than she’d like to admit.

Natasha's expression softened. "It's okay, Charlotte," she reassured her, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Everyone has their own journey, their own pace. You’ve been in survival mode, on the run for years. I can’t imagine this was top priority for you."

“No,” Charlotte admitted, chuckling. “No, not really.” 

“I’ve been there. Believe me, I’ve had long stretches where I was only thinking about how to stay alive. This,” She waved at the screen. “Is something you only want when you’re safe and cared for and have the luxury of thinking about. You haven’t had that before.” 

Charlotte nodded, her mind racing with a flood of conflicting emotions. "But now…I do.” She ran a hand through her dark hair. “Except…I have no idea what the fuck to do.” 

“Well, it does come pretty naturally.” Natasha grinned, elbowing her. When Charlotte’s mask of concern didn’t break, she softened again. “Hey. Look at me.” She gripped her friend’s arms and looked her straight in the eye. “If you want me to lay it all out for you, step by step, you know I will. No judgment. If you want to learn it on your own, there’s a few websites I can send you to…although they have questionably accurate depictions of…everything. Just tell me how I can help you and I will.” 

“This is stupid, I know,” Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“It’s not stupid, Char.” Nat’s voice was quiet. “We’ve all been robbed of some pretty big things. It’s dehumanizing. The last thing I ever want is for you to continue to feel crippled by the things that were taken from you.” 

"Thanks, Nat," she murmured gratefully, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I needed to hear that."

As Natasha turned to leave, a thoughtful expression crossed her features. "Oh, and one more thing," she added, casting a meaningful glance in Charlotte's direction. "If it helps, Barnes hasn't exactly been a ladies' man since he got back, either." She winked. “Maybe you can practice together.”

Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping into her cheeks at Natasha's words. "You had to ruin it," she called, throwing the water bottle at her. 

Easily dodging it, Nat grinned as she walked backwards toward her room. “Did I?” 

[l30n-m00ns70n3]

Solarchanged || Book 1

A Solarballs AU || Prologue || My Bodies Looking Wrong

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

Earth isn't quite sure how they got here, on his surface with their moon, but they're here now. The whole moon revolution had just been disbanded and all the moons returned to their planets in their proper orbits, and then he was waking up in an alleyway, next to what he thought was one of his earthlings. At first glance he hadn't recognized the figure next to him - the humanoid appearance throwing him off - but it didn't take them long to recognize her as their moon. Her hair mimicked her celestial surface and the lighter patches on her skin - which Earth remembered is called vitiligo - matches the craters upon her surface. As a human she looked young, maybe five, six years old, adorned in simple black shorts and a blue-hued t-shirt that seemed to be a size too big for her.

Their first instinct had been, of course, to panic - wouldn't you, if you had woken up on your surface, in a form you just barely know, and in a place that's literally a part of you? It shouldn't be possible, yet here he was. An earthling on Earth's surface, despite being Earth itself. It was completely illogical. Absolutely unfathomable. Impossible. Reality-shattering, even.

After a mild panic attack, Earth forced himself to calm down. As strange and scary as this is, he needs to stay calm - he still has Luna, who has yet to wake up, to take care of. He wouldn't let her down, not his moon who was so loyal to him despite how terrible he treated her. Looking up he noticed the sky, which was bathing the land in red and orange hue. The shifting hues of the skies told Earth that a new day had begun and as early sunlight shone between the two buildings a reflection caught the corner of his eye. Upon closer inspection it would seem a shattered mirror had been abandoned in the alleyway. Earth went to get a closer look at the mirror and caught a glimpse of himself. Much like Luna his hair matched his celestial body and he too had vitiligo, though his matched his landmasses. He had a similar outfit to Luna, though the shirt was a pale sage, and he had scars covering his arms and legs, no doubt as a reminder of the abuse his earthlings have put him through.

Seemingly in some kind of trance he picked up a mirror shard only to cut himself on it "Ack-"

"Earth?! Are you okay?!" A voice sounded behind him and soon he felt a body stumble into him. "What happened to us?" questioned his moon, "Why are we earthlings?!"

"I-I don't know, Luna," the Earth said, hoping to calm his moon as he helped steady him, "we're on my surface but I don't know..." he trailed off when a black strap, coming from behind the mirror, caught his eye, "Huh? What's that?"

"What's, what?"

Earth stayed silent. Making no noise as he moved the mirror, barely letting out a hiss when he cut himself on the shards, "It's a satchel! It seems to be in pretty good condition, too!"

As Luna peered over his planet's shoulder with an inquisitive look, he muttered out the simple question: "What's in it?"

"Let's see..." Earth unzipped the backpack and peered in, "There's a tarp, a blanket, an electric lantern, some rope, and a few clothes.." They said as they pulled out the items in turn.

Each item was usable but damaged in some way; the lantern's top was cracked and chipped and the tarp had some holes in it, the rope was short and frayed and the blanket looked like it had been ripped and sewn back together several times. All the clothes had stains and they were several sizes too big for the celestial objects, still, "It's better to have something rather than nothing," reasoned Earth as they shoved the items back into the bag, "Now, let's see if we can find a shelter of some kind. Who knows how long we'll be stuck like this."

"Okay..." Luna said with an uneasy look on his face and anxiety bubbling in his stomach. He grabbed the Earth's hand, keeping close to him; he didn't know why this happened, but he was determined to stay by Earth's side. They only have each other now...

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

Venus wants to know what the sol is happening. One moment he was a planet and the next he was an earthling. He was just in his orbit.

"Venus, maybe you should calm down-"

"SHUT IT PIPSQUEAK! I AM STUCK ON EARTH, WITH YOU IDIOTS!!" Venus supposes that it was a harsh reaction, but a fair one, all things considered. He really doesn't want to be here

"Hey we're all stuck here together! Chill out!" Mars tried to reason with the other celestial bodies turned human, "We need to focus on trying to, I don't know, survive?" He stressed the last word, he knows the most about being human after all, but he is still rather clueless. Earth wasn't one to talk about the day to day life of his earthlings, he'd rather focus on the new developments and other major achievements they've made.

The Sun was strangely quiet as he observed the three planets' argument. "We need to find a way to learn about the day to day lives of humans," he stated simply, "Or we should see if any other planets are here now. We need to stay together. For now we only have each other."

"Sun?" Mercury asked gently, "Is everything alright?" Mercury may find the Sun to be a bit clingy and annoying, he still was a good friend of his. This strange attitude was very disconcerting.

"Everythings fine, don't worry Mercury!"

"What-" the smallest planet started before-

"VENUS! MARS! COME ON!!" The sun roared at his planets; he doesn't want anything to happen to them. Don't they know that? Why do they think he is - was(?) - so strict on them about staying in their orbits?

"Right!" Mars said, grabbing Venus and dragging him over to Sun and Mercury, "We should try to find a library!"

"Wha-" Started Venus momentarily startled before he realized what was happening, "HEY! STOP DRAGGING ME!"

"THEN HURRY UP!"

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

"This doesn't make any sense-" The massive celestial body known as Jupiter was currently ranting about their current situation for the eighth time, "How are we human?! This shouldn't be possible! What-"

"Jupiter, maybe you should calm down," Saturn started from where he was sitting, "We need you to be level headed. You're the smartest one of us, I'm sure we'll figure this out eventually, but right now we need you."

"Right. Sorry."

"It's okay, mate," Uranus said from beside Saturn, "This situation is stressful for us all."

"Hehehe... I feel funny!"

"Well, almost all of us," Corrected Saturn, who was currently looking at Neptune with slight worry, "Is... Is he always like this?"

"Yeah," Uranus begrudgingly admitted, "He's kind of isolated in his orbit, y'know?"

"Right.." the famously ringed planet nodded, "SO! What should we do, Jupiter?"

"Well.. First we should probably figure out where we are, then we should-"