#i think i will try to color the next batch >_<

[igucci]

some requests :)

[kineticallyanywhere]

Monkey’s Paw pages 144-147 ( START HERE || ao3 || previous || next ) AU after episode 62. The Omega Dads try a more desperate gambit, but   careful what you wish for. Our dads find alternate versions of themselves in a strange dreamscape. If you die in the dream, do you die in real life?

"three psych outs in a row is that good writing" let me COOK

anyway hey guys im still alive. these pages just did not wanna happen. mostly panelings fault. finished not perfect, amiright?

[autisticgayplushie]

I really wish you had more 'gay' or even mlm designs for the dogs, there's lesbian and sapphic; but the only real gay one is the general pride flag :{

hello friend! I’m not sure where you were looking, I do have designs for both the mlm (pretzel the shepherd puppy) and achillean (bacon the beagle puppy) flags that i’ve posted about!! plushies for both of them will be part of my second kickstarter campaign that’ll be next year. these are just pictures from my manufacturer as we’re still working on the samples!

I know it’s frustrating to not see some flags/identities represented in pride merch as much, but please be kind when voicing your interest for it to merch creators, especially small businesses! I have to sell a pretty large amount of a plushie to start to break even money wise (unfortunately making plushies is incredibly expensive) and some flags had a lot more interest behind them than others. additionally I can only work with so many designs at once - I’m one person designing and shipping all of these out of a basement apartment with not much space. 😅 it breaks my heart that I can’t make a plush for every single identity, but unfortunately I just don’t have the resources. 😭 😭

I know other pride merch creators have said similar things as the same kind of issues come up for almost any type of merch - please know that most of the time there is not any malicious intent behind a creator not having a variant of a design for every single flag!! we want so badly to do as much as we can but we are all limited by how many of a design we can sell some times, as horrible and capitalist as that sounds </3

I love to hear that people are interested, I run all sorts of polls and google forms to try and research what people would like and I’m always happy to hear! just asking that you assume the best of intentions when voicing that interest :)

[dreaisgrayte]

First Kisses With the Hashira

Includes: Gyomei Himijima, Tengen Uzui, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Obanai Iguro, Giyuu Tomioka, Kyojuro Rengoku, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho Synopsis: What would your first kiss with the Hashira be like? {I did not include Muichiro even though this was mainly fluff} warnings: kisses! so many kisses! A little suggestive in some parts, but only if you squint, very wholesome and fluffy!

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei is super tall, so you practically had to – with red cheeks – ask him to bend down so you could kiss him

When you managed to place your lips on his Gyomei was pleased to find how gentle you were

Gyomei found himself selfishly thinking for once

He lifts you onto the table, trapping you with a muscled arm on either side of your thighs. He groans as your lips work against his. Gyomei might not be able to see, but he could feel right where you wanted him to be. He was leaning over you, his massive back completely obscuring you from view. “You are making me break concentration.” He finally mutters out, his eyes squeezed shut. “You are dangerous YN,” He pauses, opening up his glazed white eyes to meet yours. He knew exactly where you were even without sight. “The way my heart beats in my chest for you… is dangerous.”

Tengen Uzui

Tengen thinks you’re joking at first, clapping you on the back like one of his pals with a loud guffaw while you both sit at a table.

He realizes he's made a grave mistake only after your bottom lip starts to tremble.

Your cheeks are flushed and tears are running down your face.

Tengen leans into your eyesight, an apologetic grin making his face scrunch hilariously. You roll your eyes and huff out a laugh. “There’s my girl,” Tengen’s grin widens, then after a small beat, his brows furrow. “Are you sure?” He’s asking you so gently and in a way like he’s unsure of himself. You nod and that’s all the conformation Uzui needs before he’s cupping your face, guiding your mouths together in a sweet, yet passionate kiss. His face twitches with emotion when you part, a small gasp escaping your lips as you peer into his conflicted magenta eyes. Did he not enjoy it? “I think my wife count just went up,” He states with all the seriousness in the world present on his face. You burst out laughing and hit his shoulder.

“You do not mean that!” You giggle, but he shakes his head and rolls his lips into his mouth. He hums, looking at you with possessive intent. 

“No, I do.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi had just finished a mission, dragging himself through the gates of his main mansion. 

When he sees you, in a tiny lilac-colored apron his brain nearly short-circuits. 

You were so cute – too cute in fact – it was going to kill him one day. 

You shyly presented him with a batch of fresh red bean mochi, twiddling your thumbs as he gawked at the ensemble. 

Sanemi sets the plate down, walking toward you until your back is flush against a wall. You nervously glance around, trying to decipher if this was going to be the last thing you ever saw. “Thank you,” His voice is gruff, but his face floods with a deep pink color. He’s covering his face with the back of his arm and you suddenly wish this was the last thing you’d ever see. 

You can’t help yourself as you slowly reach out to grab the back of his neck and pull him into a sweet kiss. He licks at your lips and a smile forms against your mouth. “You taste like red bean mochi,” He smirks. 

“You took a while.”

Obanai Iguro

Obanai was somewhat preoccupied with training as you yelled out his name

He came running up next to you, his head tilted in question as to what you wanted

You quickly peck Obanai on the area of his mask where his mouth should be, stumbling back in amazement that you went through with it. Obanai is equally as shocked, his brows raised and his body stiff. You’re about to turn and leave when he catches your wrist. “Oh no you don’t,” He tuts, yanking you back into his arms. “I think you forgot something.” He pulls down the top edge of his mask until his lips and a bit of his scars are revealed. You revel in how beautiful this man is as he leans down to kiss you deeply. 

Giyuu Tomioka

Giyuu was reading a book with adept concentration. You were slightly annoyed by the fact you came all the way here just to be ignored by this man.

So you crawl over his lap, grab the edge of the book, push it down, and lean over to kiss him

When you break away from this kiss Giyuu’s face is a stark contrast to the once pale skin. His deep blue eyes are wide, lips parted as a trail of spit still connects your mouth to his. He sets his book down – the thought of reading lost to the thought of doing that again with you. His fingertips gingerly touch the skin of his lips once, like he believes it to be a figment of his imagination. “Can we… can we do that again?” He asks, excitedly leaning toward you. 

You roll your eyes and laugh, pushing at his face. “Oh so now you want to pay attention to me?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

Kyojuro is all over the place

He’s the one that first leans into you with too much force, bonking your foreheads together

He’s nervous, excited, and in love. To you that’s all that mattered

Kyojuro rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavier than usual. “YN, can I kiss you again?” He pleads, yearning to make the first kissing experience the two of you share as perfect as possible. You laugh brightly, pecking both of his cheeks and the tip of his nose before nodding your head. Kyojuro couldn’t think about anything else except how lucky he must be to have you in his life. He slowly brings his lips to yours, pressing into you ever so slowly as to not rush like last time. It’s a fiery hot kiss only seconds after the tantalizing brush of his lips. 

Mitsuri Kanroji

Mitsuri didn’t know how to react when you explained that kissing her was something you’d enjoy

She thought you were stunning, prettier than here even – which you had to shut down right away

Mitsuri hadn’t given much thought to acting on her attraction to you, but just hearing you utter the words made her whole mind swim

She’s going into one of her overthinking episodes, squealing about how you shouldn’t kiss her because then she’d want to hold your hand and go on dates with you and-

You grab the sides of her face, bringing your lips to hers. The kiss is mildly awkward at first because Mitsuri is too stunned to move, but once she melts into your embrace and your bodies move in tandem, it turns into something beautiful. Her lips are soft and remind you of eating a strawberry. You’re the one to part ways first, leaving her breathless as she maintains eye contact with your lips. “I think I’d like to do that again…” She blurts. 

Shinobu Kocho

Shinobu was tactful and precise about when you two would bump into each other

She planned the perfect time to finally ask you to share in some intimacy with her

So when you popped up at the Butterfly Mansion battered from a training session, you could say you threw more than a wrench in her plans

Shinobu’s bright eyes widen when she sees you limping inside the infirmary. “Y-YN?” She assesses the situation, rushing to gather material to dress your bruises. You don’t have to say much before she’s rubbing salve into your shoulders and down your back. Her hands and cold, but they feel wonderful as she works the sap into your muscles. “What did you get yourself into?” She grunts from behind. You chuckle softly, wincing at the ache spreading across your stomach. You don’t know what takes over your mind, but you lean back into Shinobu. She’s surprised but adjusts to hold you regardless. “What am I going to do with you?” She sighs.

“Put me out of my misery?” You suggest, earning a jab from her into your sore ribcage. You groan but then a sly smirk works its way onto your lips. “I think for being such a good patient I deserve a reward.” You tease. What you don’t expect is Shinobu to purse her lips and while her cheeks fade to a pink she leans down to kiss your lips. 

“Is that good enough?” She huffs, glancing away. 

“I’m not sure, I was kind of hoping for some mochi,” You giggle. Shinobu glares at you. “On second thought, it appears there would be nothing sweeter than another few thousand kisses from you…” That’s all it takes for Shinobu’s lips to be back on yours. A sweet, simple, and lovely kiss. If it weren’t for the way she worked the salve into your muscles, you might’ve mistaken her kisses to be what healed you the next day.  

[amorfista]

"Dads at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city [Part 2] there is out there!

But their mischief did not go unnoticed, and the Dads of the Bad Batch, who were trying to enjoy their drinks and straight up chillax, are having a bit of a hard time doing so with all of Omega's giggles and Wrecker's barely contained laughter!

-"The kriff are these devils up to now...?" - Echo says as he takes a sip of his piña colada.

-"I'll do you one better... How the kark is Tech sleeping through that..?" - Hunter mutters in disbelief.

...TO BE CONTINUED! [Part 4]

Alright... this one took a while. I'm very sorry for the huge delay on this drawing but... some parts of it made me lose my sanity :). I hope you can catch all the small details I laid here and there. Echo's shirt covers his Fives tattoo, which is a bit sad, but that's okay because there's another version ^^:

There, that's better🥴❤️‍🔥

This project has been quite difficult and I have a lot of things that I'm not too proud about. I suck at backgrounds and I definitely am NOT GOOD at making a line of palm trees :') The characters aren't that well incorporated in the drawing, I would have liked to make more fun little things here and there (which I'll save for future drawings) and the colors, well, let's just say I can smell them now. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore ;V; so sorry in advance &lt;/3. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND SUPPORT!!! Although this is a challenging project, I'm VERY happy to see myself improving little by little, and your encouragement helps me push through ANYTHING!! I'll do my best again in the next one!! 💕💕

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be included too!) @dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queenjiru @shoe-bag

[lovebugism]

hi bug! could i have ditsy!reader with eddie with the prompt “we can put up the christmas lights tonight!”

she’s just the clumsiest bean ever and almost falling off the ladder as she leans across to hang up the lights. and eddie is just gripping onto her waist so incredibly tightly as he doesn’t want his girl to get hurt :((

just something incredibly fluffy!!

ah this is so so cute! i hope you like it :D — you, the clumsiest girl on earth, decorate the munson trailer and make a worrier out of your otherwise carefree boyfriend (ditzy!fem!reader, established relationship, fluff, 1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

The trailer smells entirely of the holiday season — of vanilla and cinnamon and something somehow sweeter. It’s because Eddie’s burning a batch of sugar cookies in the oven. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mutters as he sits the smoking snowflake pastries on the stove. 

They’re not totally black, so that’s a plus. They may be only slightly inedible, though.

He shakes his pale hand from the oven mitt and figures he’ll have to throw them out before you get to them. He knows you’ll pretend to like them just so you don’t hurt his feelings — too sweet for your own good. 

Eddie’s contemplating this when he notices how quiet the living room has gone. The television plays a muted static, but the lack of your voice is palpable. You’re rarely ever so silent. It’s like every room you’re in glows with the sound of your voice. You only get this quiet when you’re super concentrated.

His head snaps towards the living room — not totally surprised to find you hanging up Christmas lights by yourself but still a little terrified, anyway. His chocolate eyes widen in time with his heart plummeting to his chest.

“I thought we agreed to take a break?” he shouts, rounding the kitchen counter and rushing over to you.

He plants himself in front of the couch you stand on, slightly unstable on the peeling pleather cushion. His ringed fingers are warm on either side of your hips. They clutch you tight with a worry you don’t seem to have.

You string rainbow-colored lights over Wayne’s collection of mugs, leaning over the arm of the couch to fuss with the dangling bits.

Excitement and clumsiness is a dangerous concotion when it comes to you.

“We did, but these were the last things left in the box, and I couldn’t stop thinking about them,” you explain in a tiny, faraway voice — obviously distracted. Your tongue pokes gently from your lips as you try to string lights over the last mug on the left.

“Babe, c’mon,” Eddie urges, voice wavering as his hands grip you tighter.

He doesn’t know if he’s helping as much as he thought he would, or if you feel more comfortable being less careful because you know he’d never let you fall.

Either way, he breathes out a sigh of relief when you stand upright again.

“They were looking at me funny, Eds, I swear!” you say with all your usual dramatics as you turn away from the wall to face him. You’re still standing upright on the old, rickety couch, and he’s still holding tightly onto you.

Your brows are furrowed, your doe eyes wide and twinkling with innocence, and your petaled mouth softly pouted. He couldn’t be angry with you if he tried. You’re too pretty to do anything but love on.

“I believe you, baby,” Eddie assures you with a soft, pink smile. A small chuckle spills from it as he helps you to the ground again, pale palms clutching the outsides of your elbows. 

He keeps holding you like that when you stand in front of him. He gives you a gentle squeeze there and rubs his thumbs over your skin. “Just let me know next time, alright? Before you give me a damn heart attack.”

“But I wasn���t even doing anything,” you insist, still pouting softly but only so he’ll wanna kiss you more.

He pulls you closer by your arms and makes you stumble into his chest. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, sweet thing,” he murmurs lowly to you and with his lips curled into a pretty, lopsided thing.

“It’s just Christmas decorations,” you shrug in a measly voice.

Eddie gives you a hardened look made entirely of melted chocolate.

You cave immediately. 

“I’ll be careful,” you promise.

His big, stupid grin returns to him. “Good,” he hums, right before bending softly down and smacking a kiss to your waiting mouth.

It’s a fleeting peck — a slotting of your lips and a leaving. You can taste the sugary icing on him, anyway. It leaves you buzzing for more when he pulls away.

“I’m gonna put some more cookies in the oven, ‘kay? Give me ten minutes, and we’ll finish decorating, alright? Together.”

He walks backward towards the kitchen. You beam in response. “I’ll go get the ladder so we can do the rest of the lights!” you offer, voice coated with excitement and sunshine.

“Absolutely not!” Eddie exclaims with a chuckle. Your smile ebbs instantly. “Wayne's ladder is older than I am, babe— you’ll definitely break your neck on that thing!”

You roll your sparkling eyes at him. “You’re being dramatic,” you say with a smile and shake of your head.

“I’m serious, babe,” he tells you, gentle but still stern. He tilts his chin to his chest and gives you a deep brown and serious glare. “Don’t make me fight you over this,” he cautions, still playful in his way.

Your cheek falls to your shoulder. You shoot him a teasing smile and cross your arms over your chest. “I’d still win,” you insist in a pretty little voice.

Eddie scoffs and walks the short distance back to you. “Obviously. But with the power of distraction, I’d keep you from climbing your pretty ass on that ladder, so… Who’s the real winner?”

“Still me,” you joke, smiling when he plants another kiss to your mouth.

“How about you come in the kitchen with me then, huh?” he suggests, if only to soothe his anxious heart. “You can sit on the counter and look pretty while I destroy another batch of cookies. I won’t even feel bad if you make fun of me for burning them.”

Your lips purse softly to the side as you think on his offer.

“I’ll give you a kiss for it,” Eddie blurts in attempts to persuade you.

He blinks, and your arms are wrapped around his neck — an embrace most pleasantly suffocating. He laughs softly, with his nose smushed against yours, and wraps his arms around your waist. He lets you kiss him like your life depends on it a second later.

[hurts2think]

saw you wanted hook x reader requests so i thought i'd send smth in!! can you do hook x gn light fairy? like from the tinkerbell movies! love your stories <33

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x Reader🏴‍☠️

Reader pronouns: They/them

Pairing: Young!James Hook x GN!Reader

Plot: You are a light fairy from Pixie Hollow who started attending Merlin Academy! Due to your fairy like magic, you were set to help decorate for Castlecoming. But you became a little distracted with it and your hooked boyfriend had to come convince you to prepare yourself for the dance.

Word count: 1.6k

Extra: I was going to do this one sooner but I struggled so hard to think of a plot for it. Super cute idea though! Thank you so much as always🫶

Castlecoming only happened once a year, and it was also your first Castlecoming. For most of highschool you lived in Pixie Hollow with all of the other fairies and so naturally you had the typical fairy schooling. Which didn't consist of much traditional education and more like being trained in your special skill. And yours was light.

It always sounds kind of lame at first when you say it, but it's actually pretty nice to have. Being able to move light beams, rainbows, and have glowing hands whenever you wanted made for some fun party tricks and even got you a spot in helping out with the theatre department pretty often. Helping with lights and making the set look just a little more colorful.

And now, for Castlecoming, you were helping decorate for it. You helped with some of the planning but you were also going to come in after the basic preparations were done and put your own finishing touches just a couple hours before the dance.

You started inside where the food and most of the dancing would be, moving the moonlight in the window to twist and turn in unnatural ways that would reflect off of the colorful glass decorations and filling the entire room with colors.

Then you moved on to the garden that a few of the couples would be hanging out after dancing or just to get away from the crowd.

You opened the palm of your hand and little speckles of light started to appear in it, you then tossed them into the air and little star shaped lights hung in the trees, making the garden glow softly.

You decided another batch of those might be better since it was still quite hard to see. So you open your palm and speck by speck a little light appeared in your hand but before they could all finish even forming, you felt a hand on your shoulder.

The sudden touch made you jump and let out a yelp. You quickly turned on your heel, throwing your hand up in defense

"Ow—!"

The source of the hand yelped in pain. It was your boyfriend! James Hook. Your boyfriend that you accidentally just casted a dozen lights in his eyes.

"Oh my gosh! James! I'm so sorry, are you okay?" You quickly ask, covering your mouth in shock as you clearly did not mean to do that.

He held one hand over his eyes as he stumbled back, "It's fine, I'm fine." He grunted, obvious his eyes stung and were in fact not fine.

Once he was able to stand up straight his eyes fluttered open and closed until he could somewhat see again. Then when you could conclude that he was okay, you gently hit his shoulder, "Why would you sneak up on me? Were you trying to scare me and get your eyes burned off?" You scold, your eyes narrowing.

"No!" He quickly defended, "Well, yes actually. I was trying to scare you. But I didn't think you'd be armed!" He huffed before waving his hand to dismiss it, "Nevermind. What are you even doing?" He asked, raising a brow.

It was pretty usual for Hook to sneak up on you. 50% of the time it would end with him laughing at you and teasing you about it for the next hour, and the other 50% would end with him somehow getting hurt and then immediately trying to dismiss it out of embarrassment.

"What do you mean? I told you I was helping decorate. And there's not really a point in me doing all of the lights before it's night, then I'd just have to reset everything." You sigh, restarting with the specks of light in your hand and tossing the second batch into the trees again.

You turn back to Hook, now being able to properly see him in the light

He tilted his head slightly and raised a brow, "Castlecoming is in an hour. You should be getting ready, yeah?" He asked, taking a couple steps closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him.

You could feel heat rising to your face as he pressed himself against you, forcing you to break eye contact, "Yeah but I'm not done. It needs to be perfect."

You try to pull away but he didn't let you escape to easily.

He spun you around, catching you in his arms again with a grin, "But if you're late, who will I dance with?"

A smile couldn't help but find its way on your face, "You're not ready either! We'd both be late." You chuckle, taking Hook by his hook for a hand and tugging on it slightly in a playful manner.

"I s'pose you're right. But we both know you take forever to get ready."

"Not true!" You rebut, letting go of him and pulling away, "I'll just be a minute longer, I swear. Just a couple more things!"

But just as you turned away, you felt that hand snake up onto your waist again from behind as your boyfriend rested his chin on your shoulder, "You've been stressed about this for months, darling. No need to be stressed up til the last minute. Part of the fun is getting ready. Bring your camera and we'll take pictures before the dance." He suggests. You're not looking at his face but you can tell he brought out those eyes that were impossible to resist. You turn your head to look at him and you were right.

Only it was worse, the light glowing from the trees shined on his eyes, making them twinkle.

You finally let out a defeated sigh, "Fine."

"Another win for me." He grinned, obviously proud of himself for convincing you, "I'll see you in an hour, bug."

You roll your eyes, "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not a bug! I'm a fairy." You insist but he's already walking away from you to go get ready himself. He was lucky his accent was so attractive. He could say anything and you'd swoon.

----

Only an hour had past and you were ready. You got ready as quickly as you could, styling your hair and putting on your outfit for the dance. As a final last decision, you place teeny tiny specks of light into the seams of your clothes to make them shimmer and glow.

You also decide to let your wings out, sprinkling some pixie dust on them incase you needed to fly, and just to make them look a little prettier. You smile at yourself in the mirror before checking the time and realizing you're about to be late.

You rush out of your dorm and to the party.

Once you're there you see a couple friends, saying hi to them and complimenting how nice they look. But you were in a rush to find one person and one person only.

You had to push yourself through all the people who's dresses and suits glowed under your stary lights you put up. Even the pond in the garden shined like never before.

There he was, sitting on a bench and fidgeting with his Hook as if he was nervous.

The way the lights shined on his skin and against his hair was beautiful, his pirate inspired suit made you swoon, and the nervous look on his face made your heart race.

Once he saw you in the corner of his eye, his head suddenly perked up and he took no time to stand up and approach you, "Wow, you look..." He slowly looked you up and down, taking his time to really look at all of you, "Ravishing." He grinned, admiring how you looked. Sparkling in the dark, making everyone and everything around you a little brighter.

You laughed and brought him into a hug, "As do you," you smile, "You weren't nervous while waiting for me, were you?" You ask with a teasing smirk.

His hand fell down to your hip and he scoffed, "Me? Nervous? I'm a pirate of the Neverland Seas. We don't get nervous." He said though he really did sound like maybe he was just a little nervous. It was your first dance together afterall.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't be so worried." You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking into his eyes, causing his face to flush a slight red.

"I think you're the one worried. Worried that I might be the better looking one tonight," He gave a teasing wink and leaned in to kiss you.

But before he could, you teasingly push his face away, "Hey! You don't get to say that and think you're allowed to kiss me afterwards," You raise a brow with a smirk.

"Alright, alright. You're the better looking one." He admitted, "But I do have better charisma." He smirked, gripping your waist firmly and pulling you into a dip, kissing you on the lips.

It caught you a little off guard but you kissed back, smiling into the kiss. As you kissed, Hook teasingly and carefully dragged his hook across your wings. The action made you shiver and instinct I've push him away, "Stop that." You demand, though you didn't actually mind. It just tickled.

"Fine, I'm sorry." He smirked, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and kissing it.

That only tickled too, making you laugh, "You're lucky I love you so much. Or I'd seriously knock some sense into you." You threaten playfully.

"Awe, the little fairy's gonna knock some sense into me? I believe it." Hook sarcastically remarks.

The playful banter is what you lived for. It's what made this all so fun. Highschool here was always better than at Pixie Hollow. You had friends, real classes that you were actually interested in, fun dances, and an amazing boyfriend. Your life really felt perfect for once.

Your slow dance by the glittering pond with your favorite person made you know that you made the right decision being here rather than anywhere else in the universe.

[morning-star-joy]

here, everyone knows you're the way to my heart

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Neighbors, Joel x F!Reader, Ellie x Platonic Reader

Summary: At Joel's request, you teach Ellie how to press flowers, and become even more engrained in the life of your neighbors. Joel continues to struggle with your kindness, and makes a choice that'll have consequences between you.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Grumpy x Sunshine, Mutual Pining, Implied Age Gap. Angst. Joel's an emotionally unavailable asshole. Petname (dollface). Mentions of food and eating. Cigarette use. Language. Please check series warnings on masterlist.

A/N: This took far too long, like 5 months after I started this series, but it's here now! Angst is kicking in towards the end of this one and through the next few parts so...yeah. Buckle in loves. Ty for being so patient and supportive for this fic!

Wordcount: 6.3k

Part I || Part IV || Part V || Series Masterlist

Masterlist || Kofi || Updates Blog

Looking back at it all now, the way you always acted around Joel finally made sense.

It had started out of neighborly kindness. You treated the older man, and the girl who he looked after, the same way you would’ve treated anybody who moved in next door, with a warm smile and offers of goodwill made by your own hand.

Somewhere along the way though, your reasons for seeking Joel out had shifted, so subtly that you hadn’t even realized it until suddenly it was all you could think about.

And now he was all you could think about.

Out in your garden, tending to your flowers, you wondered which blooms you could give him next. The meanings hidden within each family of plants, each variation of color, how you could tell him exactly the way you felt without him knowing a single thing.

In your kitchen, baking a small batch of brownies for Ms. Garcia again, wondering if Joel would like some, if you should set aside a few for him to try. Wondering if he liked something decadent, if the dour man had a secret sweet tooth, or maybe he preferred a sour taste instead.

Wondering if he had even cared enough to try the banana bread you had brought to him when he first settled in. 

Or if he had put any of your flowers in a vase like you had told him to.

Hoping you’d see him when you walked out of your house in the morning to go about your daily tasks helping out around Jackson, or hear that soft music played by rough fingers on his porch at night.

So when there was a rapt knock on your door one afternoon, you rushed from the kitchen to answer it without a care for your apron splattered with remnants of baking ingredients, too full of irrational hope until you opened the door, and your eyes were led down.

But the sight before you still brought a smile to your face, watching as the girl who also lived next door to you brightened when she saw you. Her awkward slouch straightened, a tentative smile twitching on her face to answer your welcoming one.

“Hey,” Ellie offered in terms of cautious greeting with a little wave, stuffing her hands back into the front pockets of her jeans, rocking back and forth on her heels as you returned her wave cheerfully. “Uh, I’m here for the…flower lessons?”

“Oh! Of course, please come in,” you chirped, smile widening into a grin with excitement at the prospect of sharing your knowledge of botanicals with somebody willing to learn. 

There weren’t many people in Jackson who were as invested in gardening as you—some even turned their nose up at it, deeming it trivial in the kind of world you lived in, when others were working day in and out to keep the place not only running, but as safe as could be.

But what was the point of having all this safety, if there was no warmth of it? What was the point of surviving without living, without finding what beauty remained, lovingly tending to it so it could grow, and cherishing its worth?

So you had been thrilled to learn from Joel that Ellie wanted to know how to press flowers, but you hadn’t wanted to overwhelm the girl, deciding it was best to let her come to you. 

Though she had seemed bright and energetic for the most part, and had been kind the few times she’d called to you from the next porch over, at times there was a shadow cast over her young face, a look that almost reminded you of a cornered animal. A soul that had grown up without knowing any sort of beauty.

And so you hoped that by showing her patience and kindness, Ellie would find there were still beautiful things that remained in the world around you.

“I thought maybe you had smelled the brownies,” you teased as you led her through the house, glancing back to see her eyes light up at the mention of desserts.

“Like, as in chocolate brownies?” Ellie asked, suddenly on your heels as you entered the kitchen, and you laughed at the way her jaw dropped at the sight of ingredients set out on your counter, in the midst of making a batch when she had dropped by.

“Yup,” you popped the ‘p’ of the word as you circled the counter, gesturing to the batter you had been mixing with a fond smile at her growing grin of excitement. “I don’t always have the ingredients for it, but when I do, I always try and make a batch for Ms. Garcia down the street—they’re her favorite.”

Ellie wrinkled her nose at the mention of the older woman, bright mood dropping quickly at the name, even as she stepped closer to you to peer down into the bowl when you picked the whisk back up. “I don’t like her.”

Arching an eyebrow down at her, you countered the blunt statement with, “Do you know her?”

The young girl paused, eyes flashing up to meets yours, looking a little taken aback by the question before you saw her stubbornness double down before your eyes, squinting up at you as she shot back, “Well, she doesn’t know me, but she sure likes to talk shit about me. Joel too.”

You frowned, sighing softly before glancing back down at your batter to mix it a few more times. “Yeah, she can be a bit of a busybody. She’s lived in Jackson longer than most, and she’s watched so many people come and go that I think she finds herself a bit of an expert on the matter of who lives here.”

“She should mind her own fucking business,” Ellie mumbled, and you both found yourself looking at each other in surprise when a snort of shocked laughter left you, four eyes wide before the girl’s smile grew mischievous at your hint of amusement that you quickly tried to hide.

“I’m not a fan of gossip, and she does a bit too much of it,” you admitted with a sigh, turning to grab a pan to pour the batter into so you could get it in the oven and move on to what she had come here for. “But she’s lost a lot, and I try to offer some kindness to her.”

“Like you do with me and Joel.”

Your head whips back around to Ellie, eyes wide at the no punches drawn comparison.

That’s also when you see her hand as it crept towards the uncooked mix of ingredients for a sneak taste, and you gently smacked it away, lips twitching up into a smile as she huffed indignantly that you had caught her.

“Everybody deserves some kindness,” you replied softly as you poured and spread the batter into the pan, sliding it into the sweltering heat of the oven and setting your little timer. You turned back with a smile that showed your genuine motivation in spreading goodwill, one that made the tension in Ellie’s shoulders relax. “How could that not include my new neighbors?”

“Yeah, okay, Sunshine,” Ellie teased with a roll of her eyes, and you laughed again, not only amused by her wry sense of humor, but happy to see how she perked up at your positive reception to her jokes. “I came here for the flower shit, remember? But I’m definitely staying for those brownies.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you gestured for her to follow you out the back door to your garden. When Ellie descended from the porch and stopped short, turning around in place to take in your carefully tended garden, you felt a swell of pride in your chest at the wonder in her wide-eyed gaze.

“Holy shit,” Ellie breathed out, her tone impressed as she glanced over your carefully coordinated flowers spreading throughout the yard. “You did all of this?”

“Sure did,” you chirped, a bright grin on your face that she slowly matched with one of her own as you led her to the flowers you’d be working on today. 

“I’ve had to do a lot of digging around for them—both through trades and, well,” you gestured with the trowel you picked up to accentuate your point, “literally.”

Ellie snorted, rolling her eyes at your joke, even as the sharp brown of them lit up more than you had seen yet at your bad pun. The cheer faded into something more somber, almost melancholic as she knelt down next to you in front of the patch of white and yellow daisies.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she mumbles as you pick up a pair of shears to give to her, and you watch as she takes the tool and holds it as if ready to wield it. 

The teen doesn’t even seem to notice the way she holds it out, sharp edges pointed away from herself like preparing to stab an Infected that didn’t exist within the walls of Jackson, and you wonder just what Ellie has gone through in her short life, how many improvised weapons she’s learned to make deadly, how hard she’s had to fight just to make it this far.

You’re reminded once again of the spooked animal backed into a corner at the sight of her awkwardly gripping the shears, and you show her your open palms before slowly reaching out, making your intentions clear before gently readjusting her grip on the shears.

“You’re nurturing something,” you say gently, picking up another pair of shears and demonstrating how you trim the dead leaves off your plants before finding a bright yellow daisy to carefully pick. “Not killing it.”

Ellie frowns, watching you retrieve the fresh bloom and present it to her with a smile. She takes it gingerly, staring down at the petals as she swirls it between her fingers and says bluntly, “But it’s gonna die anyway.”

You falter, a frown pulling onto your lips as you hear the unmistakable truth, the knowledge that ran deeper than just flowers in her grave words.

“It will,” you assent, voice quiet as you pick another one, handing it to her to join the first. “But they’re not alone. We’ll appreciate them while we have them, and when they’re gone, we’ll keep a reminder of them, like you wanted to learn.”

Ellie glanced up, solemn frown turning into one of confusion with the pinch of her brows. “Huh?”

Now it was your turn to frown, your facial expression mirroring hers as you clarify, “We’ll press the flowers. That’s what Joel said you wanted to learn.”

Blinking rapidly, Ellie shifted around to face you completely, and you did the same as you stared at each other in dual confusion and misunderstanding. “Joel said what now?”

“He said that you wanted to press flowers,” you said slowly, head tilting to the side as Ellie’s mouth opened before she stopped, eyes lighting up in sudden understanding that you were still lacking.

“Ooooh,” she drew out the sound of realization as you continued to look at her blankly, a slow smirk stretching across her face before she looked back down at the daisies, then up at you again. “Yeah, right! Pressing flowers. Yup, that’s what I told him. Totally wanted to learn that.”

There was a new excitement in Ellie’s eyes now as she nodded enthusiastically, matching the mischievous smirk on her face, and you tentatively gave your own nod before turning back to the flowers, continuing to pick a few more daisies along with her as the girl kept shooting you looks and asking you questions about the flowers decorating your garden.

“What’s that one mean?” she asks, pointing her shears towards a bunch of blooming lilies with bright pink leaves stretching outward.

“Pink lilies symbolize love and femininity,” you explain, snipping away a few dead leaves around a few more flowers before pushing yourself to your feet. “A lot of the time, they’re gifted between women because of that. It’s a show of admiration.”

Ellie nodded slowly, perking up at the explanation as she rose to her own feet beside you. She cast another glance around the garden, turning around slowly on her feet much like she did when first coming out, but you saw a honed look in her gaze, different from the wide scale glance of appreciation for the flowers from before.

And you understood the subtle calculation in the action when she not so subtly asked, “What about that one?”

Your eyes followed the direction she was pointing in to find your roses swaying gently in the spring breeze, and your back stiffened instantly.

“Uh—” Clearing your throat, you shifted awkwardly on your feet, trying to brush off the inkling that she knew what you had given Joel, ignoring the shrewd way she focused in on your face while you tried to turn it away from her observation. “Different colors have different meanings—”

“The orange one!”

You froze, holding your shears tightly in one hand and your own bundle of daisies in the other, trying to hide your internal panic and knowing you failed when you heard a snicker from beside you, letting you know that she must have seen the rose you’d given Joel at some point.

Did that mean he kept it?

You swallowed down the sudden surge of excitement at the thought, trying to focus past your feelings towards the man as you glanced back at the smirking teen beside you.

Clever kid.

“They’re energetic flowers,” you admitted a partial truth slowly, moving towards your back porch to drop off your tools and conveniently face away from Ellie, when she bounced in front of you to walk backwards, eyes fixed on your face with a purely trouble-making grin.

“Energetic how?” she prodded, arching her scarred eyebrow, and you sighed.

“They typically are meant to convey…fascination,” you hedged with the explanation as you set your shears down on your workbench, beckoning for her to do the same with hers before opening the back door and letting her go inside first.

“And not so typically?”

Holding back a groan, you strode past Ellie quickly, busying yourself with finding a small, unused book in your living room to start her collection of dried flowers in. You mumble the answer as you try to bury your face in the book, hoping she wouldn’t continue to interrogate you for her own amusement.

But as any true teenager would, she popped up behind you with a bright, “What’s that?” and you snapped the book shut with a groan after flipping through the pages.

“Attraction,” you admitted on a loud sigh, turning to see her grinning up at you. You resisted a smile yourself, her youthful glee at sticking her nose where it didn’t belong nearly infectious, even through your embarrassment at being caught. You passed the book to her, beckoning her to join you on the couch so you could show her how to press the flowers on your coffee table. “Happy?”

“Very,” Ellie grinned, and you could almost see her mentally filing away the information for the most inopportune time, all the while your own mind churned over the meaning of the flower you had left unsaid.

The very meaning that you had given Joel the flower for, the feelings that he stirred up inside you again and again with each fleeting look, stronger with each passing moment in his presence, even without him intentionally fanning the flames.

You wondered how much longer it would take until it finally burned you.

Joel had tremendously, irrevocably fucked up this time.

He should have never let you get that close. 

He should have said no when you asked him if he wanted that smoke, even if it meant seeing dejection on your face before you turned from him and hurried back inside the safety of your home. As far from him as allowed with fate—or, more likely, his goddamn brother—putting him next door to you. 

You should be far away from the likes of him.

The dejection would’ve been better than the hope that flooded your face whenever you saw him now. It would’ve been easier if you avoided him instead of seeking him out, less excruciating than the ache steadily settling into his very bones when your eyes lit up every time they met his own if you happened to see him, or find him, around town.

Spring was warming into summer, and you shone in the warmth of the sunlight, like those flowers you loved so much that he’d catch you taking care of around town. Half the times he ran into you, you were leaning over some flower bed or up on your tiptoes to reach a hanging basket, tending to the bright blooms that faded in comparison to your brilliance.

Joel would try and get away as fast as possible, if you didn’t catch him staring more often than not. You’d approach him, offer a new flower to him with a dazzling smile that burned itself into his eyelids and taunted him every time he blinked.

The new flower would go into that same shitty vase, and the old one would join the ever growing pile of dying flowers on the edge of the counter, balanced precariously close to the trash bin next to it.

He kept telling himself he’d shove them all into the trash someday.

But every time a dried petal would flutter into the bin, he’d lean over with a grunt at that persistent ache in the back of his left knee and pull the splintering petal back out, setting it back onto the counter with the other blossoms that continued to fall apart.

One of these days, he’d get rid of them.

Every time he entered the kitchen, he’d tell himself it was that day.

And every time his hand hovered over them, gazing over the once full of life blossoms that had dampened with the passage of time, he’d decide tomorrow would be better. 

The pile of flowers grew, until one day Ellie stopped in her tracks heading through the kitchen, staring pointedly at the dried up petals hanging on for the last dregs of dear life off brittle stems, and then back at Joel.

And he pointedly ignored her, focusing on peeling the washed apple in his hand, knife carefully shedding the skin as he asked her before she could speak, “Where you goin’?”

“To learn more about flowers with your girlfriend,” she shot back, the snicker evident in her voice, and Joel’s thumb froze, the shiny red peel of the apple hanging in a swirl off the fruit in his hands.

“My—” he shook his head sharply, brows knitted together as he huffed out a quiet, exasperated breath. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I hardly know her.”

“Sure.”

Joel exhaled sharply, the peel finally falling into the sink when he finished, and he focused on cutting off a slice instead of the aggravating tone in Ellie’s voice that said she knew something he didn’t.

Something he in fact knew very well, as infuriating as it was to deal with.

“She just lives next door, Ellie,” he doubled down, only looking up to pass her a slice of apple, then another slice when she popped the first one into her mouth, even as he shook his head in disapproval when she smiled wide with the apple in front of her teeth when she saw his exasperation with her antics. “Thought you could give each other some company.”

“Right,” she mumbled through a mouthful of the chewed fruit, and he shot her a disapproving look that she only snickered at. To her credit, she did at least swallow down the first piece and hold off on eating the second to say clearly, innocent words with a sharp double meaning, “Nice flowers, by the way. What a neighborly gift. I sure admire them.”

Joel frowned, glancing from Ellie towards the light red flowers that currently sat in the vase—carnations, he thinks. You’d given them to him a couple days ago, when he had been on the way home from a patrol that had taken him out before the sun rose, and brought him back when it was finally setting again. 

Your head had popped up at the sound of his footsteps going past your house, a grin spreading across your face before you called out to him. There was a quick snip of the stems at the flower bed you were kneeling at in your front yard before you rose and handed them to him over the fence, old wood with peeling white paint that separated you from each other.

He had thought of you on your knees that night, the dirt on your skin, what it would be like to rub it off with a gentle caress until each passing of his thumb over your knee would turn needy. Desperate.

God fucking dammit, longing.

But he thought of the unabashed smile you offered him, and the startling way it eased his worn nerves after the long day even more.

What an old, goddamn fool he was.

And what made matters so much worse was how fond Ellie was growing of you. He could deal with his own…his own, whenever you were around him for too long.

But each time Ellie returned from a visit to you happier than when she’d left, it was harder to keep those lines that separated his life from yours from blurring even more. Two sets of fences separated your property from his, but your very being still bled into him, seeping into his bones and settling with a tension under his skin when you began to brighten not just everybody’s fucking day, but Ellie’s as well.

You may have given the girl a gift of flowers to help her feel welcome in Jackson, but it was you who truly made the kid feel at ease. Joel had hardly heard so much praise for anybody else from her, and he couldn’t even be irritated when Ellie started coming home from her flower lessons with you first with gifts of brownies and cookies, and then with casseroles, full meals in dishes that they’d sit side by side on the couch with a couple of forks and eat from together.

“She doesn’t think we eat enough,” Ellie mumbled through a mouthful of casserole one night, and Joel scoffed, even as he shoveled another bite into his own mouth.

“She’s right,” he begrudgingly relented once the dish was empty on the coffee table, their forks discarded inside, and they both fell into a peaceful nap like you had delivered them a fucking Thanksgiving.

Everything you did to him, everything you made Joel feel was harder to ignore when he saw the positive influence you had on Ellie. She went from hardly ever getting out of the house to looking forward to those flower lessons he had lied to both her and you about the other person coming up with the idea, when it was his own.

His own stupid blunder, the question of how to press a flower falling from his lips that night he had made the crucial mistake of letting you get too close. The question he had asked to stop the other question from leaving him, the one that had been taunting him nearly from the first time you had fixed him with that dazzling smile and wide, kind eyes.

How do you do it?

How are you so kind? 

How do you not hate the world?

How do you not hate him for hardly giving you the time of day everybody else was more than willing to give to you? 

All because he was old and bitter and couldn’t fucking admit to himself how you were growing on him, how you were branching out around every cursed inch of him and entangling him in all your softness, pulling him in like ivy, pernicious in its beauty until he crumbled under the weight of your light.

He was too scorned to appreciate what you illuminated in your path, taking your sunshine for a burn on his skin whenever he let you take another step closer.

Somewhere inside him, he worried that he’d burn you too, if he kept letting you take another step.

And somewhere even deeper, he feared that he wanted to.

If he saw you crack, if he got you to lash out at him, maybe he’d finally understand you.

Maybe he could finally let himself—

Fuck, he was an awful human being, if he was even that. The things he’d done, the things he’d still do—he needed to stay away from you.

And if he wasn’t so awful, he would.

If he wasn’t a selfish man, he would’ve sat out on his back porch to play his guitar night after night. Or better yet, stay inside altogether.

He wouldn’t be sitting out on the front porch as soon as the sun began to set, his eyes flickering towards the lights that would flick on in the house next door, filtering through the floral curtains when he switched to strumming a new song.

His fingers wouldn’t be twitching in yearning to hold a cigarette between them, his throat not parched for the stream of smoke that mixed with the sweet taste of you on his lips from sharing that cigarette with you.

He wouldn’t let you consume his every thought. He wouldn’t let you get closer when you weren’t even there.

He wouldn’t let you.

But he did.

He always did.

And maybe he always would.

It happens like clockwork.

As soon as the sun starts to set and sends the deepest hues of purple and pink cascading across the sky, the gentle strumming of a guitar starts. The music bleeds through the walls of your home, and at this point, you’re always sitting by the window in your living room when it starts.

You’d learned to crack open the window the slightest bit before the sunset begins, so you can hear it better when he plays.

You’d also learned to flick the light on in the room when it starts to get too dark. Because when you did, those calloused fingers you could see so well when you closed your eyes would stop across the strings.

There’d be a pause, and then he’d start again. A different song each time, and you’d lean against the wall and listen, his music filtering in as your light filtered out.

You could never bring yourself to open the curtains, but you wondered if he ever noticed the crack in the window after the first few times.

Sometimes you’d read, letting Joel’s music blanket your senses as your mind got carried away into whatever story was on the pages in your hands.

Other times you’d swirl the stem of a flower between your fingertips, the next one that you planned to give him. Or run your fingers down the recipes in a worn cookbook, searching for the next treat or meal you’d give Ellie to take home after a visit.

One night, you’d fallen asleep like that, curled against the wall and waking up with a start and a crick in your neck when nightmares plagued your sleeping mind again.

And when his music still filtered through, it had seemed like such a good idea to get even closer to it. 

There was a comfort to it, real or imagined, and you needed it. You at least had half a mind for a jacket and shoes that time, shoving the dwindling supply of cigarettes you had into the pocket before you stepped out onto the porch, letting the door shut behind you without a care to try and hide it that time.

The music stopped abruptly. By the time you dared a glance over, he was already looking at you.

A moment of silence that felt like forever stretched in that short distance between your porches before Joel jerked his head in a silent beckoning for you to approach, and you were off towards him in an instant.

That first night—or the second, really—you didn’t say a word to each other. You shared another cigarette until your nerves had settled, and left with a small wave and a thankful smile that was returned only with the growing familiarity in the weight of his gaze on you until you disappeared back inside your house.

The next few times it happened, you’d make small talk. A nervous habit, and he didn’t look at you as you spoke, but he’d give small hums every now and then. The smallest scraps of attention that only made you keep coming back.

When you were out of cigarettes, a fear caved in on you that he wouldn’t want you there, that he wouldn’t tolerate your presence if you didn’t have anything to offer.

So you padded about your kitchen that day, making three different batches of cookies as you couldn’t decide on which one to give him. Even with the way you found your life intertwined with his more and more, there was still so much you didn’t know about the man. So much you wanted to know.

Eventually, you settled on a hunch that he did have a secret sweet tooth. Either Ellie scarfed down every batch of sweets you sent her home with—which very well could be—or she shared them with Joel, and the latter thought had you crossing over to his porch that night, a plate of peanut butter cookies nervously clutched in hand.

Cookies he stared at when you ascended the steps to him, sending your heart into a nervous flutter when his jaw set as severely as the first time you’d shown up on his doorstep with an offer of goodwill in something you’d baked with your own hands.

“I was out of cigarettes,” you offered weakly for an excuse as you seemed to mess up around your neighbor once again, and Joel’s gaze finally flashed up to your face, flickering over whatever emotions were probably bleeding through onto your features before looking away.

His hand lifted from the neck of his guitar, rifling through a pocket of his worn jacket until he pulled out his own few rolled up cigarettes with a lighter, which you blinked at in surprise.

“Where did you—”

“Don’t matter,” he mumbled, gaze averted from yours, and you tried to swallow down a lump in your throat as he held them up.

Wordlessly, he passed them to you, and you handed him the cookies, which he set onto the small table beside his chair and stared at as if your gift was the greatest offense you could have ever made.

You tried to find relief in the nicotine, but he kept staring at those darn cookies, a furrow in his strong brow and a dark look in his eyes that you wished you could ease, or at least understand.

Eventually, you dared to try and speak.

“I—”

“I don’t get it.”

Your brow furrowed when Joel interrupted you, confused as to what he meant, and he seemed just as confused as he glanced over your face before hesitantly clarifying, “Your…kindness. The way you’re so positive all the time.”

He raised his hand from the neck of his guitar, gesturing towards the cookies with it, then in the air as he listed off with a voice tinged with irritation, “Baking. Flowers. Fucking…smiling like you do. I don’t get it.”

Your stomach flipped again when Joel met your eyes for a brief moment before he looked back down at his guitar, setting it aside with a sigh so he could rest his hands on his knees, and you murmured, “Well, I'm glad you're finally saying it.”

Joel’s head rose, his gaze finding you again as you gave a small smile, his entire body stiffening at the sight while you continued, “I knew you hated me since you came to Jackson, but it's a bit freeing to hear you finally admit it.”

His jaw clenched, eyes flickering all over your face, as if he was searching for…you didn’t know what he was searching for, and didn’t know whether or not he found it as his eyes narrowed and he looked away again.

“I don’t…” Joel trailed off with a heavy sigh, lifting a hand to rub down over his face, his next words muffled against his palm as he said slowly, “...I just don’t get it.”

His hand dropped, hanging between his knees as he said to you directly, “I’m not kind to you.”

Your head tilted, observing him quietly for a moment to try and see what he was getting at, figure out whether he wanted an answer or not. When he kept looking at you expectantly, you replied quietly, “No, you’re not.”

“So why are you so fucking nice to me?” 

With a shrug, you answered easily, “Because I’m nice to everybody.”

“Why?” 

You sighed, feeling a small flare of irritation at Joel’s persistence on the topic, but you let the feeling fade as you shrugged again.

But when you opened your mouth to reply, Joel swiftly rose, taking a step towards you as he lifted a finger to gesture towards your face while he murmured, “There. I saw it. You were annoyed.”

You raised an eyebrow, a quiet laugh slipping from you as you searched for the words you wanted to say, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to think as he slowly closed the distance between you.

“I get irritated, Mr. Miller,” you said patiently, watching Joel’s jaw clench again, though you weren’t sure what set off the reaction as you continued, “I’m only human. But what would being mad get me?”

“Satisfaction,” he replied easily, getting closer now, and your breathing quickened, pulse racing as you noticed again how big he was, how thick those arms were when he crossed them across his chest and how broad that was, and your mind was screaming at you danger again, just like that first night on his porch. 

Not because he was dangerous—though he might as well be from the rumors, just not towards you, not in that way—but because these feelings he stirred from you threatened to pull you under completely if he suddenly decided to stop keeping that short bit of distance that remained between you.

Lord, when had that distance gotten so short?

“There’s plenty of things to be satisfied about, Mr. Miller,” you said calmly, watching his jaw tick again, and your head tilted, observing him as closely as he watched you. “Cruelty isn’t one of them.”

“No?” he asked softly, the volume of his voice a direct juxtaposition to the stern heat in his gaze, and you shivered again, one of your hands pulling your jacket tighter around yourself in the same moment he reached for your other hand.

You froze as Joel tugged the cigarette from your grasp, holding it in front of your eyes as he mumbled, “Like this?” before dropping it to the porch, lifting his boot to stomp it out, and your breath hitched as he leaned in closer towards you. “Is that vice of yours really enough to satisfy you, dollface?”

Doll—

It was harder to breathe now, your head spinning, mouth still warm and tingling from the mere memory of that taste of him you had once gotten on another cigarette—mint and whiskey, mint and whiskey, and you wondered if his lips would taste of that now if pressed to yours, your tongue in his mouth to explore it and find out.

You quickly shook the heat of the spiraling thoughts from your mind as you breathed out, “There’s enough wrong with the world, Joel. I don’t plan to add to it.”

He exhaled sharply then, and your eyelashes fluttered as you felt his breath wash over your face, and there was that same scent of mint and something wholly intoxicating enveloping your senses and oh god, when had he gotten that close, but you were lost in the proximity as he murmurs, “Say it again.”

You could hear your blood rushing through your head now muffling your ears, heart pounding in your chest that was heaving from quick breaths as you whispered distractedly, “What?”

“Say it,” Joel repeated, leaning closer, and your breath hitched, lips parting when his nose brushed against yours, feeling your pulse between your legs now as he ordered in a low tone, “Again.”

Your mind was struggling to keep up, trying to find out what he meant, trying to find logic in the situation.

But there was no logic, only feeling, only this strange all encompassing heat, and your lips parted further to whisper what you knew he wanted to hear, “Joel—”

“Fuck,” Joel hissed, the curse slipping from his mouth a mere moment before it was on yours.

The only thing that you could manage to do was moan, the warmth of his lips pressed to your own increasing the heat until you felt like you were standing in the middle of a fire, feeling as much warmth as you did a scalding burn when he jerked away from you as quickly as he had kissed you.

Kissed you.

Joel had kissed you.

Something he was apparently horrified by as he leaned away from you, wide eyes darting across your face as he breathed out another, “Fuck,” before he was spinning on his heel and marching towards his door.

You knew it was coming before it happened, the same thing that always happened when Joel seemed to think you got too close. And so you were left standing on his front porch, burning with heat that still lingered on your skin, on your lips from where he had kissed them for just a few seconds before tearing himself away, the door slammed in your face once again.

[jedipoodoo]

This isn’t really a request but I was on tik tok and there was one where a dad was taking off his babies helmet (like the ones that reshape their head) and now I’m just picturing tech designing his kids helmet to look like a bad batch helmet and I love your tech with baby fics so I thought you might also find this cute

This one-shot does not contain spoilers for season three. Please do not discuss spoilers in the comments.

We all know that the boys would be the best fathers, and Tech would always try to do his best by his kids. And I know that you said this wasn't a request but it's so cute I had to write it.

Cute (Tech x Reader + Baby)

Warnings: None, just fluff. And babies.

It had been years since any kind of fighting or missions by the time you had your first child, so it made you pause when you came downstairs one morning to find Tech's helmet sitting on your kitchen table.

"Tech?" You called out.

Tech threw open the front door, arms laden with bottles of different shades of paint, "Yes, darling?"

"Where's the baby?" You asked.

Tech turned his back to you, and your baby cooed happily, reaching his hands out for you. He looked absolutely ridiculous in the head-shaping helmet that the doctors were having him wear, but he was still your little baby.

"Hello my handsome boy," You took him from the baby backpack, kissing as much of his face as you could, "Did you and your buir have an adventure this morning?"

"He was fussing earlier, and I wanted to allow you to rest as much as you could," Tech explained, dumping his paints on the table with his helmet. He began comparing various shades to the colors on his helmet.

"Thank you," You almost swooned at his admission, "What are you working on this morning?" Usually, Tech was out in his shed at this point, working with a dozen or so spare parts rather than paint.

His datapad rang with the alarm tone that meant you could remove the baby helmet for a few minutes.

"Aha! Just in time!" Tech tickled the baby under his chin before releasing the strap that held the helmet in place, setting it on the table next to his own helmet.

"Oh!" You said in realization. Tech produced a stylus out of one of his many pockets and began to trace shapes in the styrofoam helmet, echoing the shapes and patterns on his own.

"Yes, I thought it looked rather plain. My brothers and I always made our own helmets look unique, so why not do the same for him," He nodded to the baby and selected one of the larger brushes to paint the base coat.

You snorted, "You know, it's not as unique if you're just making it look like your own."

"So we should let him decide? I fear if we were to allow that he would simply eat the paint." Your son cackled out a laugh, as if that were the funniest idea anyone had ever shared.

"Well, you are his father, so he might as well look just like you, but we should try and let him give it his own touch."

Tech shrugged, and selected another brush. "Very well."

You prepared a bottle for baby's breakfast, and started some coffee for yourself and your husband.

"Are you going to put those little lightning bolts on the earmuffs? Those were cute."

Tech spluttered, "They are not earmuffs, they are- wait, did you say cute?"

You giggled, and your son shared your enthusiasm.

"You know, I think they were what made me fall for you in the first place."

Tech's cheeks flushed as he tried to hide behind his helmet. "W-well, I sanded them off after our last escape from Kamino, but...I suppose I could repaint them...if they are cute..."

"Cuu!" Your baby boy squealed. He dropped his bottle to clap his hands.

"Tech!" You screamed, though he was right there with you, "He said cute!"

"I'm not sure that counts, darling-"

"It does! It totally does! Tech, he just said his first word!" By now you were jumping up and down and dancing around the kitchen. You leaned over the table to place a big kiss on Tech's cheek, accidentally knocking over his tray of paint in the process.

"Oops," You froze as the paint splattered all over Tech's lap. Your baby laughed again.

Tech shrugged, "Is this your way of saying you want to help me paint the helmet, darling?"

You burst into laughter again, and Tech stood up, pulling you and the baby in for a hug.

"Tech! You're getting paint all over me!" You laughed.

"That is your own fault, darling," He grinned, kissing your face and holding you closer.

"Cuu! Cuu!" Your baby cooed, grabbing at his father with sticky fingers.

Tech sighed, "Yes, ad'ika, I believe this is what you would call 'Cute'."

[queenariesofnarnia]

physical touch 2

the bad batch (pre-echo) x f!medic reader

18+ content! MDNI!

wc: 1,559

part 1

warnings: smut with little plot, unprotected piv, oral f!receiving , tech is recording of course, a little knife use from hunter, and i think that is all

Touch increased on the Marauder after that night, in minor ways. Wrecker enjoys pulling you into his lap while you read in your down time. He’ll rest his head on top of yours as he chats with his vod. If you are ever sitting alone in your bed, Hunter comes to sit with you, taking it upon himself to place his head in your lap. You’ll begin to absentmindedly run your fingers through his soft curls. Crosshair’s hand rests on your lower back whenever you stand near him. When you went to the market his slender fingers made their way around your waist not letting you stray too far. Tech will hold your hand if what he’s working on requires one hand, or when he sits next to you his hand will rest on your thigh causing you to melt into his touch. Everything was going smoothly until the day you chose to test their resolve. The boys decided they were going out for drinks but tonight you chose to stay home. When it was time for them to head out for the night you wished them a goodnight standing in the entrance of the ship in a shirt you took from Wrecker.

This was the first part of your plan, underneath the shirt was a custom lingerie set you ordered in their armor color. A tiny skull gem resting at the center of your cleavage, next one  of your latest tattoos that you’ve hidden since your last leave. Their initials resting along the top curve of your breast, the other being the signature 99 located at the bottom of your spine. The moment they make you aware that they’ve made it to 79’s you’ll start on phase 2 of the plan, you’re going to send them each a picture, with a risky message attached, then get comfortable in your bed before phase 3 can spring into action, hoping it’s them devouring you. Approximately fifteen minutes pass, you have discarded the large shirt and took the raunchy pictures, when you get a message from Tech letting you know that they have made it. Time for your plan to be put into motion. Sending the first picture to Hunter.

*attachment: 1 image*

You can cut this off when you get back

then it’s Wrecker’s turn

*attachment: 1 image*

Waiting for you to wreck me tonight

then Tech

*attachment: 1 image*

I hope I’m the prettiest thing you get to record

and lastly Crosshair

*attachment: 1 image*

 I have something else you can put in your mouth

Making yourself comfortable in your nest of blankets turning on a cheesy holofilm. Knowing that you won’t be watching this for long. Thunderous footsteps made their way up the ramp, you’ve been ignoring their messages, trying to hide the smile on your face as your door swooshed open. You don’t break contact with you screen, only waving at them. The sound of Hunter clearing his throat didn’t even make you look up. Though any other occasion it would have. Crosshair took two long strides, snatching the datapad from your view and tossing it to Tech.

“Looks like you can pay attention now kitten” his coarse voice holding a demeaning tone. Finally looking up at them, taking in each of their reactions. Hunter’s jaw was clenched, his eyes darkened as they graze over your body. Stopping at the tattoo on your breast that was peaking above the lace. Wrecker looked like he just stumbled upon the best meal in the world, rubbing his large hands together as he admired you. Tech has started recording the moment they stepped foot on the ship. His gaze hungry, as he made sure to get every inch of you in the frame for later. If looks could kill, Crosshair’s stare would have you in an early grave.

“Come here mesh’la” Hunter orders patting the edge of your bed. You crawl to the edge, the sniper getting a look at the other tattoo you have been hiding from their view. “Do you want this? Because there’s no going back once you let us get a taste of you” the sergeant’s gravelly voice burning with desire.

“I don’t care if I’m screaming, crying, or begging you to slow down. Shut me up and keep going” your voice airy. Heartbeat accelerating, at the closeness and the situation you have put yourself in. Each of them let out a pleased noise. Grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger making you look at him, he leans down capturing your lips in a steamy kiss. Back arching as you release a moan into his mouth before he pulls away.

“Such a shame you’re letting me cut this off” he tuts grabbing his knife.

“I have more” you admit shyly, gaze focused on his blade.

“Lay down and eyes on me” the comes out quickly and firm. Your back hit your soft blankets, Hunter nudging your legs wider as he slots himself between them. The cool blade of the knife sends jolts through your heated skin. Slowly running it up your body until it’s under the band of your bra a quick and careful flick of his wrist your breast spill out the cup. Trailing the blade back down your body he contemplates his next move, does he want to cut off your panties or rip them off. He cuts a slit at the top of them before putting his knife away then tearing the thin material in half. Exposing your soaked cunt to the cool air of the room. Before you could clench your thighs together he keeps them spread.

“Cross I believe she promised you a taste” Hunter moves to your right side, instructing Wrecker to get behind you. Crosshair waits for his large brother to get into his position. The large clone quickly slots himself behind you pulling your back against his chest.

Positioning himself between your thighs he leans forward wrapping his fingers around your throat squeezing lightly pulling you in for a dominating kiss. His other hand acquaints itself with your soaked cunt, his thumb ghosting over your clit as he traces the lips teasingly. Eliciting a gasp from you as he trailed kisses down your body. Stopping with his lips hovering over your clit that was begging for attention. His hands now gripping your soft thighs. He teasingly laps at your folds without breaking eye contact, enjoying every moment your hips bucked towards his mouth. His teeth lightly graze your clit, pulling an almost breathless moan from you.

“You look pretty falling apart for me little tooka” Crosshair praised as he pulls away from your needy cunt. Your body reacts to the praise a new flow of arousal runs through you, Cross notices lapping it up letting his tongue explore your cunt, Wreckers calloused fingers begin to toy with your nipples adding to the pleasure you were receiving. Your moans gradually getting louder as your first orgasm of the night nears. He takes his right hand from your thigh to slip two fingers into you curling them to hit your g-spot. His attack on your clit not slowing down.

“I know you’re close. Go ahead cum on my fingers and give Tech a show” Crosshair’s words were all it took for you to fall apart. Almost screaming his name in pleasure. His fingers continuing to work you through your orgasm before he pulls them out bringing them to your lips. “Go on and taste yourself” he commands. Without breaking eye contact you lick his fingers before taking them in your mouth sucking your juices off them. He gives you another kiss calling you a good girl before he steps to the side.

“My turn” Wrecker booms with laughter easily flipping you over pulling you into his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck.

“You gonna wreck me big guy?” your voice is soft yet sultry. Still recovering from your orgasm, yet you’re ready to take Wrecker. You grind down on his erection while placing kisses along his jaw. With one hand he lifts you up while the other lines himself up with your entrance slipping the head of his cock in with ease. He slowly slid you down his length watching your face contort in pleasure before his lips hungrily attacked yours. His hands stayed on your hips as you begin to ride his cock. Your hands gripping his shoulders, teeth clashing as you kissed. He began thrusting up into you matching your rhythm. Each thrust had echoed in the room, the sound of skin slapping together mixed with the sounds of your arousal. Burying his face in your neck to muffle the sounds of his groans. His thrust began to falter as your walls gripped him tight.

“Mesh’la I’m not going to last much longer” Wrecker grunts out in your ear.

“Fill me up big guy” your words were enough for him, a few more thrusts from him and his cum coated your walls. Triggering you to orgasm over his cock before slumping against his body. “Thank you big guy” you whisper kissing his shoulder. He held you close giving you some time to rest, before slowly slipping out, laying you on your bed.

“Give me 20 minutes” you mumble into your pillow.

“You can have two” Hunter says going to grab warm cloth to clean you up.

Tags: @huntershoe @ooostarwarsfandom501st @techscyarikaa @aynavaano

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: California Sheephead Wrasse

A lot of people through history and the modern day have an overly simplistic view about sex, both in the sense of biological sex (that is, what gametes something produces) and sex as in the act of mating. A lot of people think that sex is just a strict binary between males and females, but nature is far more diverse and varied than that (even in humans. Intersex people do exist after all). Today I'm showcasing one of the animals that completely goes against the alleged sex binary: the California Sheephead Wrasse. And yes, this is a pride post.

(Image: a male California Sheephead Wrasse in a tank in the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It is a large fish with a bulbous head. The head and tail are black, midsection is pink, and the belly and chin are white. End ID)

The California Sheephead (Semicossyphus pulcher) is a large fish in the Wrasse family of Labridae. They are sexually dimorphic, with the males and females appearing distinct from each other in size, shape, and color. Males are larger than females, reaching up to 91 cm (3 ft) and 16 kg (35 lbs), though there is quite a bit of size variation based on food availability. They have flatter faces than females thanks to a bulbous bump on the forehead. This lump is the namesake of the fish, since it allegedly make it look like it has a sheep's head. I personally don't see it at all. Males have black heads and tails with a white chin and underbelly and pink midsection Females are smaller and colored silvery to a dull pink all over except for their white chins and underbellies. There isn't really a maximum size or weight for females for reasons I'll get into later. The fish have large canine teeth that protrude from the mouth and modified throat bones that form a grinding apparatus called the throat plate.

(Image: a female California Sheephead. It has a less bulbous head than the male and is a pale pink all over, except for the white belly and chin. End ID)

Sheepheads, like many wrasses, are sequential hermaphrodites. A sequential hermaphrodite can transition between sexes during its life (as opposed to a simultaneous hermaphrodite, who can produce both sperm and eggs at the same time). Every California Sheephead is born female and some will become male later in life, making them protogynous. Protogyny is the most common form of hermaphroditism in fish, with over 75% of known sequentially hermaphroditic fish species being protogynous. This transition is a one-way process, males will not turn back into females. The transition is triggered by a number of factors, primarily size and the local availability of males. If there are not enough males in the area, the largest female will transition to male to fill the role. This transition takes between 2 weeks and a few months depending on availability of food and other conditions (temperature seems to play a role) and the fish will be capable of producing sperm before fully assuming the male morphology.

(Image a male and female Sheephead swimming next to each other. The female is roughly half the size of the male. End ID)

During mating season (July-September), males will pick a territory and claim all nearby females as mates. A younger male without a territory may challenge an alpha male to try to claim his territory. These fights are often resolved with threat posturing, but if neither male backs down, they will fight with biting and raking teeth against the opponent. During mating season, females will release batches of 375,000 eggs almost daily for males to fertilize. During this time, the alpha male will patrol his territory to mate as much as possible while chasing off smaller males who may attempt to sneakily fertilize some of his female's eggs. The larvae are planktonic for their first 34-78 days, and will sink as they grow. Juveniles have a different coloration to the adults. They are orange, with a white stripe running down the body and dark spots on the fins. The average maximum age of a California Sheephead is 21 years, but the oldest individual on record was 53 at the time of capture.

(Image: a juvenile Sheephead. It is a small, orange fish with a white stripe running from eye to tail and black spots on the pelvic, anal, dorsal, and tail fins. End ID)

The California Sheephead lives on rocky reefs and kelp forests from southern California to the Baja peninsula and Gulf of California. They prefer shallow water between 3 and 30 meters (10 - 100 ft) deep, though males will occasionally venture deeper. Sheepheads are predators that hunt hard-bodies invertebrates including urchins, shelled molluscs, and crabs. Juveniles hunt smaller prey such as sponges, bryozoans, and barnacles. The protruding canines give the fish a better grip when trying to pry food off of rocks. They crush the hard shells of the prey with sharp teeth before swallowing. The shells are then further ground down by the throat plates. Smaller individuals have been known to break open urchins too large to bit by picking them up and hammering them into rocks. Sheepheads play an important role in kelp forest ecosystems by keeping urchin populations down. Urchins eat kelp and without predators keeping their numbers in check, can reduce kelp forests to urchin barrens. Sheepheads are known to have a high site fidelity, meaning they will return to the same places over and over. They will maintains a sleeping spot (usually a crevice they can hide in or rock they can hide under) and return to the same places to hunt. They are diurnal and return to their sleeping spots at night to avoid predators.

(Image: a male Sheephead trying to pick up a sea urchin with tis mouth. End ID)

California Sheephead Wrasses are classified as vulnerable to extinction by the IUCN. Their primary threat is overfishing. The Sheepheads have been commercially fished since the 1800s and their numbers have dropped. The hermaphroditic nature of the species actually makes things worse. Commercial fishers are incentivized to catch the largest fish and the largest Sheepheads are the males and females that are likely to transition to male. Unlike with other species, there aren't small males around to make up for the loss of large males to fishing since the small fish are the females. The loss of males and the largest females (who are the ones most likely to transition to male) means there aren't enough males around during mating season to keep the population high enough. The introduction of marine protected areas and fishing regulations have helped the population recover. The loss of the Sheepheads is a big deal since they're one of the species doing the most to keep the kelp forests healthy by eating urchins. Natural predators of the Sheepheads include sharks, sea lions, and giant sea bass.

(Image: a fisherman holding a male Sheephead on a boat. The large canines of the fish are particularly visible. End ID)

[toastermoth]

Hello! I saw your requests are open! I’m actually a fem reader, but I don’t mind a gender neutral one! I’d like to know your headcanons on Solomon when he becomes romantically interested with the mc. Like if he’ll do anything for them or does he get jealous whenever mc spends so much time with the demon brothers. Anything that you think about, it’s up to you. 😊 It’s been a very long time that I haven’t played Obey Me and I just miss them. Thanks!

Hell yeah!! I got OM after almost a year of not playing so ik what you mean when you say you miss them! (I missed Satan </3) one batch of Solomon hcs coming right up! APOLOGIES FOR THIS BEING LONG I HAD FUN WRITING THING

SOLOMON X GN! READER HCS

This man, he's old. Old man. So obviously he knows a few things about love.

Usually it's other people swooning for him but when he met you this man was DOWN MFING BAD.

He started to come up to talk to you inbetween classes more and more often. In a way he seemed awkward?

Hm, maybe he's just trying to be kind? Until he started walking you home everyday which always made you happy because unlike the brothers, he wouldn't abandon you on your walks.

Casually helping you carry books to eventually racing you playfully, to holding your hand and making you run with him all the way to the house of Lamination.

You found yourself falling for the white haired wizard and went to Asmo for advice.

"Sweetie, just say your feelings! I'm more than sure his feelings are intertwined with yours! And if you're too scared work up to it! Spend more time with him and only him!"

Taking Asmo's advice over timeyou found yourself at the purgatory hall. Everyday it seemed like a routine, get up, go to school, go home with Solomon and do whatever two oblivious people who have a crush on each other do!

The lust demon however thought you two were still taking too long and decided to take matters into his own hands.

Next thing you knew, Asmodeus was suddenly all over you, asking to shop, asking to try on some new makeup with him and then soon all the brothers caught on and had their own requests.

"Y/n I require you assistance for this paperwork. Surely you won't disappoint me."

"YO! Y/N! I need ya to help me with some uh.. uh.. LISTEN I JUST NEED YOUR HELP ALRIGHT?!"

"Hey normie, get on Mononoke Land! There's a new event going on!"

"Y/n I need you for helping me find this human book, it's about this boy-"

"Y/n dear! I found this color changing nail polish and it's to DIE FOR! Cmon I need to test it on you!"

"Y/n I'm hungry.. can you make me something? We can share if you want too if I don't eat it all."

"Mnn.. y/n come nap with me... m cold and you're nice and warm.."

Once Solomon noticed you were canceling your plans with him, he started to get suspicious and a little insecure. (He'd never say that out loud however.)

Finally after some debating, he decided to personally take you home with him and find ways to keep you both busy.

The demons take notice (especially Lucifer after you didn't answer his texts after 5 minutes) and sneaked around (Simeon let them in) and noticed you and Solomon laughing together?

"HEY WHAT TH-" "SHHHHH Love is happening."

You hear the demon brothers' bickering but pay no attention as you resume your tickle fight with Solomon.

"You're the person I'd let tickle me and that's saying something, you're the only person I'd let do a lot of things." he said inbetween laughs.

You look at him so full of love as he grabs both your hands and starts tickling you!

"Let the lovebirds be, cmon out out!" Asmo yelled, you both stopped and started laughing at his antics.

God he was in love.

[galaxygolfergirl]

And we’re back folks! With another batch of rough fan art featuring Queen Anna and powerless Elsa this time.

For this design for Anna, I noticed another post that some people didn’t feel that her regal gown from the epilogue in Frozen 2 really fit her style, so I tried to emulate the colors and rosemaling from her coronation dress in the first movie, while also keeping a sense of maturity in this look having grown into this role. She’s not as impulsive or fiesty anymore, now tempered with responsibilities but still conveys her warmth and compassion as a competent ruler. Still, in comparison with her sister, she is not without her insecurities, as running a country doesn’t come without a fair amount of stress, which she hides from Elsa out of fear of not being good enough.

Now as for Elsa losing her powers, I’m sure a lot of people have hypothesized about if she had an adversesary that could wield fire powers. I have made concept art of that before in the past, but I want to try and draw that digitally first before I show you guys. In this instance, I would imagine that Elsa has faced off against this adversary, and lost, and that enemy has weakened her powers to a state where she is unable to manipulate snow and ice and thus it dramatically alters her appearance. Her hair turns brown, like her mother’s, the clothes that she fashioned for herself would lose their icy appearance and revert to normal civilian clothes (or at worst, disappear, making for an awkward scenario), and the loss makes her weak and sick. She would have to learn how to rehabilitate herself for the next round in the story, but this change would almost certainly traumatize her since she’s just learned how to accept herself and her powers.

Lastly, with my idea for Hans to return in this story, I can’t imagine that Anna would be all that enthusiastic about seeing him again. My idea is that he has some insider information about the adversary that they’re facing in the story, whether it be the Southern Isles, or this fire wielding villain that Elsa loses against, they somehow have to rely on him for assistance. His motivations could be entirely selfish, “merely an enemy of my enemy is my friend situation” and he only agrees to help to stick it to this adversary (probably the Southern Isles). Nonetheless, it would make for some interesting dialogue and dynamics to see how they would react to each other.

Now, like I said, this is all hypothetical. This is more fanfiction and fanart than anything else, you don’t have to agree with it, but this is just a fun exercise in thinking what could happen in the next two movies. I hope you enjoy what I’ve done. Kristoff is coming up next!

[ddejavvu]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

contents/warnings: bau!reader, christmas in november because i'm impatient

There's icing on your nose. You can see it if you cross your eyes, but your hands are too occupied to brush it off.

They fumble with a piping bag, trying to squeeze air out of the top while squeezing icing out of the bottom. The formerly white frosting has a black tint now, and if it lands on your cookie, the stain will be permanent.

You trace the shape of a suitcoat, tongue sticking out of your mouth as you leave enough room for a button-up. The pants are equally as simple, two rectangles merged in the middle.

"Whatcha makin'?" Penelope leans over your shoulder to peer at your gingerbread man. You glance over at her christmas tree, decked out with green swoops of icing and light-shaped sprinkles.

"It's a surprise," You mumble, still lost in thought as you search for the white icing, "Has anyone seen-?"

It's in Derek's hands. He's making an angel cookie, halo already wound around her head. It's for Penelope, you're sure.

"Morgan?" You peer up at him with shiny, pleading eyes, "Can I steal that? Just for a second."

"Snow for your tree?" He guesses, as your hand covers the shape and design of your cookie.

"Nope!" You grin mischievously at him, "You'll see."

"I love a good surprise," He chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he hands over the piping bag with a smear of the frosting on his thumb. You're surprised he doesn't ask Penelope to lick it off, and you're even more surprised that she doesn't offer.

"That had better be good," Prentiss peers at your hidden cookie, what little she can see of it from how you're hiding it, "'Cause you used up all the black icing."

"More on the way," Rossi reaches for the big bowl of white, food coloring already in-hand, "Does anything else need a refill?"

"Red," Spencer hums from where he's surveying your cookie-decoration, gingerbread crumbs stuck to his fingers, "It's empty."

Your head shoots up to glance at the flattened red piping bag, the next one you would have asked for. Something akin to annoyance prickles in your chest at the inconvenience, but Rossi's already whipping up another batch, and JJ's santa cookie does look good.

You're happy to have Rossi on kitchen duty for many reasons. He's efficient at filling each bag when you need it, and he's too busy to complain about the mess you're making of his kitchen. When the red bag is set back on the table, plump and slightly sticky, you set down the white one, dress shirt in place.

Now for the tie, a dot at the neckline and a line down the shirt. You realize too late that you've already sacrificed the black piping bag to Emily, leaving your cookie faceless, but when she spots your eyes on it she hands it over with a kind smile.

The finishing touches are a line of hair over the top, two eyes, and a frown. You think, as you glance stealthily at Hotch, who's nursing a water and listening to Reid's explanation of the evolution of Christmas, that it looks uncanny.

"Done." You huff proudly, pushing your seat away from the table. Everyone's eyes flit towards you, although it takes Spencer a minute to finish his sentence.

"Let's see, kiddo," Rossi raises his brows expectantly, waiting for you to uncover the cookie you've been crafting.

With one swoop it's out from behind your hands, displayed proudly between your fingers as everyone peers at it.

"It's Hotch." You grin proudly, "Frown and all."

The first person to laugh is Derek. He throws his head back slightly, glancing back at Rossi when the man snorts. Penelope lets out a sharp ooh!, but covers her mouth with her hand so that her giggles are stifled. Emily and JJ share an incredulous laugh, still decorating their own cookies, icing bags frozen in their hands.

Reid squints intently at it, amusement twinkling in his eyes, "That's pretty accurate, Y/L/N."

"Actually, I think his frown is usually deeper," Rossi chuckles, "But the tie is spot on."

You've been so caught up in everyone's instant reactions that you realize you haven't glanced at Hotch himself yet, and your breath catches in your throat. Maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have joked about it.

But when you see his face, it's mangled into a barely-withheld smile, his teeth digging into his lips to keep it at bay. He knows if he reacts you'll only be egged on, but it's hard not to chuckle at the teasing.

"No," He finally pipes up, "My ties are straighter than that." His eyes are narrowed and softened as he razzes you back, and you can feel a weight fly off of your shoulders at his good-natured response. His eyes linger on the cookie a moment longer, then flit up towards your face. Everyone's going back to their own work now, and Spencer's starting up his spiel again. You hold eye contact with Hotch for only seconds more, but it's long enough for him to let his smile appear, twisting up the corners of his mouth. You duck your head before you can blush, and reach for a napkin.

Off goes the frown, on goes a smile.

You drop the newly-grinning cookie off in front of him when you refill your water, slipping it onto the counter in front of him while Reid rambles. He doesn't have time to thank you amidst a fact about old religion, but the christmas card he sends you only two days later contains his gratitude.

Jack liked the cookie you made of me, he says you should be an artist. I think so, too, the BAU's personal cookie decorator. Have a wonderful holiday season, Y/N, and I'll see you at Penelope's New Year's party.

[oleander-nin]

Sugar Cookies(Rise!Donnie x Reader)

A/n: Repost because I originally wrote this on a reblog and it bothered me. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

Content Warnings: Fluff, Christmas themed

Words: 1047

Summary: You make Christmas cookies w/ the ROTTMNT guys, and you model your sugar cookie after your purple lover.

The lairs' kitchen smelled absolutely amazing and that was probably attributed to the cookies you and Michelangelo have been working on for the past half hour. Mikey smiled at you as he pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven, they all looked perfect(except for the one dinosaur one Raph tried to make, it kind of spread out too much, but it wasn’t Christmas-y, so it doesn’t count). You quickly mix the rest of the frosting with their respective colors so everyone could start decorating, and you pull out the rest of the sprinkle containers. “You ready?” You look to Mikey who's putting the fresh cookies out on a wire rack to cool and he nods back at you.

“Let's get this party started!”

As you put the frosting into piping bags, Mikey calls everyone over, handing them paper plates as they walk into the kitchen so they can all start decorating. You take your own plate and grab one of the sugar cookies that’s shaped like a gingerbread man cutout. Donnie taps the table a couple of times to get your attention, and you both lock eyes. He grins and nods to the seat next to him. You roll your eyes at his nonverbal question, and make your way over to sit down next to him.

“Soo, what are you planning on doing?” You ask Donnie, looking down at the ornament shaped cookie he had on his plate. Donnie grins wide at your question and starts to ramble on about how he plans to perfectly decorate his cookie. You hum along as he talks, listening to his explanation as you collect the colors you want. Ready to start working on your own Christmas treat, you take a toothpick from the box in the center of the table and start spreading the green color all over the body of your gingerbread-shaped cookie.

Donnie glances over at your design choice and stops his monologue about his chosen colors to stare down at your cookie in disgust.

“Why, pray tell, are you using green to color your cookie?” His scowl makes you snort and you use the back of your hand to cover your mouth before you start laughing out loud.

“For your information, I have a plan. So boo hoo, I’m using green to color my tiny gingerbread man.” You stick your tongue out at Donnie and continue to spread the green throughout the cookie, trying to keep it as even as possible.

“I, for one, think it looks great,” Raph says, smiling over at you two, “and while it is a strange choice to color your Christmas cookie fully green, I do support you.”

“Thank you Raph, glad to hear someone appreciates my creative abilities.”

Donnie scoffs at you both before he gets distracted by Leo who, like you, is painting his entire cookie one color. Unlike you however, is the fact that his cookie is one, a snowflake, and two, bright pink. You have no idea where he got said color, as you have no recollection of making it when you and Mikey were working on the frosting.

The light conversation being made around you was comfortable background noise for you to work with, but now you purposefully hunched over your cookie a bit to try and hide it from your purple-cladded boyfriend. Mikey looks up at you when you reach across the table to grab the purple. Realizing what you're doing, a big grin comes across his face, and he slides the color over to you. Thanking him, you start on the mask and little accessories of your cookie Donnie.

Mikey kicks you from under the table and you look up at him.

“What?” You mouth to him, trying to draw as little attention to yourself from Donnie. Thankfully Leo was keeping him busy by trying to put some of the pink frosting on Donnie’s cookie and Donnie was attempting to fend him off.

“Goggles?” Mikey mouths back. He understood your want to keep it on the downlow, and you appreciated his compliance.

You shake your head yes and subtly nod over to the jar of rainbow sprinkles. “Two whites together.”

Mikey’s grin widens at your idea and nods thoughtfully. Donnie and Leo had finally stopped their petty fight, so you went back to hiding your cookie from your boyfriend's view. You could tell he noticed with the way he stared at you, but you just grinned innocently at him.

“What are you doing?” Donnie asks, trying to glance over at your cookie. “What, were you so embarrassed about your green cookie that you have to hide it now?”

“Mhmm, yup. Absolutely devastated and completely humiliated that you saw my cookie, so now I must hide it from the world.” You say, sarcasm dripping with every word. Donnie looks unimpressed with your words and rolls his eyes at you.

“Scoff, fine. If you don’t want to show me your hideous cookie, then I shall leave it be. I wouldn’t want to scar myself by looking at such a monstrosity anyways.”

You use the sprinkles to make his face and goggles, adding the finishing touches and cleaning up any wayward frosting. Happy with the result, you start cleaning up your mess. Sliding your cookie back into Donnie’s view, you wait for him to notice. Donnie must’ve sensed your staring, as he glances over at you before looking down at the cookie you made.

“Like my monstrosity?” You tease, throwing the words he used to describe you cookie back at him. You watch as Donnie gently takes the plate it’s sitting on and rotates it so he can see the cookie better.

“It’s me,” He remarks, looking down at the decorated cookie with stars in his eyes. “You made your cookie look like me.”

“Dibs on eating it.” Leo says nonchalantly. You're not sure he’s even seen it yet, as his face is still looking down at his cookie in concentration while he covers it in blue frosting to match the pink.

Donnie picks up a tube of frosting and squeezes it onto Leo’s head in retaliation, calmly wiping the frosting he got on his hands on a napkin before going back to admiring your cookie. You can’t wait to do this again next year.

[linkemon]

Raining chocolates (Jack Frost x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

[ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇʟʏ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ᴠɪᴇᴡꜱ ᴏɴ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴀɪɴ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇꜱ!

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘɪʀɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴠᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ ᴏꜰ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

— Are they arguing again? — Tooth looked uncertainly towards the hall.

— Yes but at least the chocolate boxes are flying! — North caught the package mid-flight.

Satisfied, he tore the dark red, shiny paper. Inside he found a mixture of pralines. He was trying to decide which flavour he should choose when a snowball flew above his head. Unfazed, he decided to eat the entire package at once.

— Maybe we should separate them? — The fairy was nervously flying next to the fireplace.

— That's what I'm talking about! — The Bunny wiped the snow from his face.

Judging by the dirt on his paws, he had just jumped out of the tunnel. He didn't like the welcome snowball straight to the forehead.

— I do not see a problem. — Santa continued to eat the best nut chocolates.

He was interrupted by a loud bang.

He rushed towards the argument. The corridor looked like a battlefield. The entire batch of robots was lying on the floor. Dolls and blocks followed suit. The production machine turned off. There were screws and wires sticking out of it. The paint poured straight onto the carpet, dyeing it rainbow colors. Yeti, in charge of production, was sitting in the corner. He covered his head with one paw and stuffed chocolate hearts with the other. Two Guardians stood in the colourful chaos.

— Valentine's Day should be joyful! — Jack Frost was making a new snowball in his hands.

— Get on with your job! — [Reader] deftly dodged the throw.

— North, good to have you here! Tell her. Love is a beautiful, joyful feeling, isn't it? So the holiday should be like that too! — he said as if it were the most obvious truth.

— You know nothing! Who is the Spirit of Valentine's Day here? You or me?

The girl took out her bow. In a second, she reached for an arrow from the pink quiver. She was already drawing the string when a loud voice interrupted her:

— Enough of this! I don't care who started it — North added as the two prepared to explain. — You'll clean it all up. Every single toy, got it?

***

— You know what she once told me? — North put his arm around Jack. — That love is ten percent joy and ninety percent suffering. Do not interrupt me. — He glared as he saw the guard open his mouth. — She has good reason to think so. I don't agree with her but I don't question her work and neither should you.

They had already passed the main hall and three floors and the boy was beginning to wonder where they were going. It took him a while to understand the purpose of the strangely long trip.

North grabbed him by the hood and then unceremoniously pushed him over the threshold of the room. When the boy heard the lock click, he knew something was up.

— But it's a bit inhumane. — He heard Toothiana's voice from behind the door.

— They didn't act like humans when they demolished the quarters! And now they will sit there until they make up!

The winter spirit yanked on the doorknob. Unsuccessfully.

He turned around and saw what he feared most. [Reader] was sitting on the couch. She was slowly realizing the situation they were in. A closed room without windows made escape impossible. If they want to leave, they have to come to an agreement.

He walked over to the sofa and sat down on the opposite end from his companion. He stared stubbornly at the fireplace. Orange flames licked the pieces of wood. They produced unbearable heat. The winter spirit didn't like it. He would much rather have the fire extinguished but he had no intention of moving. [Reader] was getting cold quickly. Why did he even care? He convinced himself that it would escalate the argument and left it at that. Because there's no way he would care about her...

Out of boredom, he started counting the seconds. He wanted to estimate the time he would spend in the room. However, he quickly gave up. Instead, he pulled the nearest pillow, placed it under his head, and decided to take a nap.

— Did he bring you here too, saying he wanted to talk? — The spirit of Valentine's Day couldn't stand the silence.

— Yeah — he muttered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl shift uncomfortably.

— So maybe we can pretend we've made up and just leave here, huh?

The boy turned his head towards her. He hadn't expected it but the idea was tempting.

— I'm in. — He smiled mischievously.

He was already getting up from the couch when the plan backfired.

— I heard everything, you cheaters. You two should really get along! — Santa shouted from behind the door. — I'll know if you lied to me!

There was a slight threat in his tone.

— North, you weren't supposed to eavesdrop! — Toothiana's loud voice joined the conversation. — Don't disturb mind him, little ones! — she added sweetly.

For a moment, a scuffle could be heard. Then the sounds gradually faded away. Apparently they're gone.

Resigned, the boy sat back down between the soft pillows. Now the idea of using tricks stopped running through his mind. First of all, it would be suspicious. Secondly, although he didn't want to admit it, he was a little afraid of the Guardian of Christmas. His pleasant exterior concealed a weird man.

He decided to look at the room. Unfortunetely, it was empty. The brown boards were starting to get old. The wallpaper with a motif of red and green baubles was eye-catching. The thick, heavy curtains showed traces of dust. Frost preferred not to know the last time someone decided to swipe it out. Seeing the gray layer on the mantelpiece, he felt the urge to clean the room. Unfortunately, even if he wanted to kill time this way, he had no way to do it. The yeti probably took out the rest of the furniture. As always. Why were they doing this? Nobody knew that. When asked about this, the creatures grunted in their own language and continued doing their thing. For this reason, rearrangements in the quarters were frequent. Sometimes even the owner of the bed woke up in a different place than where he fell asleep.

Unfortunately, the tour did not kill the boredom. It was too short.

Jack sat behind the couch and started playing with his staff. He conjured two snow hares. He bet on who would reach the finish line first. He set his end point at the other end of the room. Later he started changing animal species. He wasn't having the best time but he couldn't think of anything else.

— Can you make buildings too? — [Reader]'s voice came from above.

She leaned out from the couch, looking at the frosty creations jumping, running, crawling, and swimming across the floor.

— Yes, of course. Any special requests? — He turned around.

It was a reflex. The Guardian of Fun did not refuse to give joy to others. Especially when it was within his capabilities. Only after a while did it occur to him that they were still quarreling, so maybe he shouldn't break away so eagerly.

— Could you make a hut?

Frost's first instinct was to create his family home but he suspected that wasn't the point.

— A little more sloping roof — added the girl — and an orchard on the left.”

The boy listened attentively, following the instructions. Soon, a snow model was created. The house was surrounded by a fence. Little cows and pigs were grazing nearby. They were also accompanied by a troop of hens led by a rooster. The Spirit of Winter had a slight problem with the flowers. He didn't know much and suspected that the garden turned out hopelessly. But he had trees in his little finger. Probably because he often jumped on them, playing with the wind.

— I guess that's all.

He didn't even notice when the Guardian of Love took a seat next to him on the hard boards. She stared as if enchanted at the image stretching before her. The smile that graced her face let him know that he had done a good job after all. There was a lot of melancholy in her look.

— It this your home? — he asked.

— Yeah... — She touched a small sheep in the middle of the pasture. — It was until... until I became... you know.

Dead. This word came to mind. Their friends would probably think about their jobs. They'd put it more like: Before I became a Guardian... They stopped being alive a long time ago. However, like him, she was relatively young. As young as you can be after several hundred years. She still remembered.

— I drowned. — He felt like his own voice sounded foreign.

Why exactly did he tell her that? After all, she didn't ask him anything.

However, he continued the story when he saw her break away from the model.

Jack still remembered the brown, worn-out skates. He rode them across the frozen lake. He was fourteen then. He was doing quite well. No one in the village could ride so nimbly. His younger sister was just studying. She took uncertain steps. She was getting better and better. After all, she was doing it under his supervision. And yet, that afternoon, it would all end. The crunch of ice that heralded disaster was still ringing in his ears. He tried to get Mary to jump aside. Just like in Hopscotch — a game he once invented. He failed and instinctively used the staff. It was enough to push her to safety. However, he landed underwater himself. The feeling of momentary relief was replaced by shock. He tried desperately to breathe. Jack couldn't find any support for his hands. The cold seeped into his bones. He was unable to get out of the icy water. The longer he fought, the faster he lost strength. Later, in a hazy memory, he still remembered going to the bottom. Jack was surrounded by darkness and piercing cold. He closed his eyes from exhaustion. The next time he opened his eyes, the Moon was above him. Then he was spared a second life. So much time had passed, and yet the memory was still fresh. Especially after he lost them to the Black and fought to get them back.

[Reader] wordlessly placed her hand on his own. She didn't say anything but he knew she understood. It wasn't easy to forget about your death. Nor come to terms with a lost life but watching the people he loved grow old and pass away seemed the cruelest thing to him.

— They sentenced me to beheading — she said in a quiet voice.

He didn't push. He had no right to do this. He was surprised when she continued.

The story began with an ordinary day in the countryside with her boyfriend. He was a serious candidate for a fiancé. He worked as a castle assistant. Frost began to wonder exactly how many years ago the Spirit of Valentine's Day had died. If she remembered such times, she must have been older than he had previously thought. Due to these thoughts, Jack lost the thread of the story until she started talking about the theft.

Thanks to his work, the boy easily stole a jewel from a rich lord's box. As luck would have it, the family brooch would attract the attention of every neighbour in the area. Lack of sufficient caution resulted in a denunciation. The devastated [Reader] didn't know what to do. Until he said he wanted to spend the money on a wedding. Something broke inside her. Ultimately, what tipped the scales was the fact that he had a family to support. She was just an orphan working on a farm. She decided to sacrifice herself. With a heavy heart, she went to the castle, where she confessed her guilt. No one asked how on earth she could do it, since no one would even let her into the salons. Yet the court seemed satisfied. No attention was even paid to the lies and ambiguities. They omitted the absurdities contained in them. Another head-to-head trial meant a quicker break.

From the whole story, one sentence stuck in Frost's mind: I will never love anyone like I love you. This is what the thief promised to the Spirit of Valentine's Day before she sacrificed herself for him. He sensed this would be important from the way she quoted it. As if she had engraved it in her memory, somewhere deep in her mind.

— Do you know what happened when I got a second life? — she sighed. — That I died just so he could marry another woman. He waited a week. Week. Apparently he was counting on my naivety and he succeeded. ��� She went back to playing with the snow model.

— I'm sorry. — He wasn't sure if a cliché could do any good.

Such sentences rarely brought relief. They were repeated out of habit. Probably because people had no words for certain situations.

— You don't have to be sorry. — She smiled slightly. — You gave me a lot of joy, as befits the Guardian of Fun. I was able to see the farm where I grew up once again.

— Have you been there?

— A few times. Today there are lots of apartment blocks there. It has changed over the years. —  She shrugged and looked at him. — Do you know why I told you all this?

He thought she was trying to repay history for history. And yet this wasn't the answer she was counting on. So he fell silent.

— Because I see love differently than you. Over the course of four hundred and fifty-two years, I have encountered so many different shades of this feeling that you can't even imagine. I consoled those crying after the loss of loved ones. I have seen mothers sacrifice themselves for the sake of their children. How people die from diseases, away from their loved ones. And also how they spend their old age together and overcome problems together. That's why I think I'm a better Guardian of Love than the Spirit of Valentine's Day. I help people celebrate what is important every day. This one day of the year is not that special. So please don't interfere with my work anymore, she concluded. — I'll stay in my quarters on the 14th. This holiday will be fine without me, just like before.

— Let's say I agree, although I still think you should go out and see people having fun... — He noticed how much she wanted to interrupt him —...but I won't question the way you work anymore. Okay? — He held out his hand.

— Okay. Now let's go shout some more. Maybe they'll hear that it's time to let us go. There is absolutely nothing to do here.

***

— If this is some stupid joke, I swear you'll get an arrow up your ass… — [Reader] muttered.

Jack didn't blame her for complaining. She was blindfolded, so he led her by the hand. He didn't think this through. He should have handed it over only at the bottom of the stairs. So he had to deal with an uncomfortable situation for three floors. He even offered to let them fly with a staff but the Guardian of Love wouldn't hear of it.

— Almost there! — He removed the cloth, revealing the headquarters.

He was glad that the yetis had managed to repaint the decorations. The blue color would spoil the whole effect. Now they could admire the rows of red and pink hearts. They decorated every corner. Soft pillows in the same color were placed on the sofa and in front of it. They also managed to repair the TV. Although there was never any reception here, the player worked flawlessly. Tooth was sorting through a pile of old films. Bunny kept complaining that she only chose romantic comedies. He preferred to see a bloody horror movie. Sandy was almost asleep standing up, sending sand hearts up from time to time. Behind him, on the table, there were mixed chocolates. North was stuffing himself with them, so Frost kept the rest of his food supplies in his room. Otherwise, they might run out quickly and the fun was only just beginning.

— Why doesn't this surprise me? — The girl rubbed her temple.

— Just so we're clear, I'm not interfering with your work. —  He rested his head on his staff. — I do my duty. I jumped at the chance and we're going to have a fun evening.

He gave her his trademark smile. He was surprised to see that she didn't yell at him after all. He was secretly pleased with it, although he hadn't counted on it. She also seemed to be having a good time with her friends.

Valentine's Day night passed quickly. Hardly anyone made it to the morning. After three movies, most Guardians were teary-eyed. Jack sat between the snoring Bunny and [Reader], who was sprawled on his shoulder. He was uncomfortable but he didn't move. He didn't want to wake anyone up. The movie was still playing. Frost didn't focus on the plot. Everything that was happening started to escape him a few scenes ago. He pulled a small heart out of his sweatshirt pocket. They handed out shiny pieces of paper to each other. Everyone had to write something nice about the other person. They promised not to read them until the next day but purely theoretically the new day had already lasted for several hours. So he smiled to himself, satisfied with this justification and opened all the Valentines one by one.

Thank you.

That one word let him know he had done a good job. Maybe next year he'll be able to take her out to celebrate with others.

PS Will you be my Valentine?

This sentence, in turn, sent a rush of heat through him. He was used to embarrassing others, not being  embarassed. And certainly not like this. The matter was explained by the other side of the heart. Marked with marker:

YOU'VE BEEN FOOLED!

He promised himself that he would never admit that she was right. In the morning he will pretend that he saw it after all. This was the plan. However, somewhere in the corner of his mind there was the thought of what he would do if it wasn't a joke...