#oh i guess i need to transfer my tags?

[saintvampe]

seraphina carries herself with a large, and earned, amount of confidence. she knows exactly what she is good at, exactly where her strengths lie, and she’s damn good at playing them. she can be very cat - like in how she moves, decidedly leisurely with her actions but always, always precise in her existence and body. in some instances, her movements can be swift to the point of uncanniness, which definitely contributes to the discomfort that one might feel around her.

[piningpercussionist]

(ooc)

I want you all to know that if I had the energy for it. There are so many posts stored in my drafts I long to queue... but neglected to preemptively tag, despite knowing I am Like This....

Anyway, there is a slight chance the queue might run out tomorrow unless I can get more responses in there-- I am,, tired,,

[noxtivagus]

that. au thing i see on twt in the ffxiv community seems cool

[dira333]

Big, butiful and nice - Fatgum x Reader

I have carried this idea with me for a while. This features a single Mom! Reader, so if kids aren't your thing, you don't have to read it. Pure Fluff. Tagging @missalienqueen @bbglay @pixiesavvy @itsyoursunshinebabe @marti-mp4

“UP! UP!” Chubby arms reach for him and huge eyes twinkle up at him over a row of missing teeth.

“Oh?” Toyomitsu reaches down and picks the little girl up. “Who are you?”

“Etsuko.” She tells him proudly, trying to reach for the zipper of his costume. 

“Hi, Etsuko. Where is your mommy?”

“Dead.”

He stills. Oh.

“Etsuko?!” A woman in a business suit rushes around the corner, spots the little girl and halts. “You can’t just run off!”

It’s only then that you notice him - not that he’s trying to hide in his big form.

“Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Fatgum, Sir! I was just showing Etsuko the on-site childcare when she ran off! Please, let me take her, I don’t know why she bothered you.”

“Big!” Etsuko explains simply. “I can see the world!” 

“Yes, you do!” Toyomitsu bounces her once, twice and revels in her giggles. “And don’t worry, it happens.” He transfers the little girl to your arms, watches with fondness as she immediately snuggles into your side. “Your…?”

“Niece, Sir. She’s my niece. I just… uh, I just transferred this week and this is all pretty new for us, but I promise we’ll be totally professional from now on.”

“Oh, please don’t.” He laughs, waving his hand, “That’d be boring, right?”

You look a little dumbfounded. It’s pretty, he notices, when your features soften. When you’re not constantly focused on looking all-serious.

“Boss?” A voice asks from the other end of the hallway. He turns to see Kirishima, all dressed up in his costume and eager to get going. Toyomitsu nods and turns back to you. 

“I guess I’ll see you around. And Etsuko,” he boops her nose, “Keep smiling, okay?”

-

“Mr. Fatgum, Sir?” Toyomitsu looks up from his Desk and the assortment of food spread across its expanse.

You’re dressed in a different suit this time, the dull grey color of it making you look like a banker coming to collect his soul. He shivers. 

“I have the analysis. Do you want to go over it now or later?”

“If you don’t mind me eating while you talk, we can go over it now.”

You nod and slip into the chair on the other side of his desk.

You’re a professional, he can tell. You stick out of their agency like a sore-thumb, but you’re probably also the voice of reason they need the most. 

Yes, he’s on Number 58, but he’s also too slack with his employees. Lord knows there are many things he could improve.

You show him charts and numbers, studies and graphs. You’re smart, he can tell, to the point that he can’t help but interrupt you.

“Did you just do that calculation in your head?”

“Oh… oh yeah, it’s my… it’s my Quirk.” You explain, seemingly embarrassed by it. “I’ve got a computer for a brain, basically.”

“That’s cool.”

You shrug. Your eyes flicker to the Takoyaki. He pushes them towards you, silently offering them.

“Oh, no, I shouldn’t.” You wave your hands but he shakes his head. “Take one. Tell me about yourself for a bit, will you? You transferred here from Endeavours Agency, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, still eyeing the Takoyaki. He picks one up and hands it to you, watching the emotions flicker over your face. Eventually, you pop it into your mouth and chew and he’s lucky to have been watching because happiness flickers over your face like a shooting star over the night sky.

“Another?” Toyomitsu hands you another one. It doesn’t take long for the dish to vanish.

You must have been hungry, or maybe it’s just your favorite dish, but the food has softened your features, blurred the harsh lines that you draw yourself in.

“My sister died unexpectedly. I don’t know who Etsuko’s father is, but my parents died when I was a teen and I’m the only one she has left. I did love working for Endeavour, I really did, but it’s no place for a single mother. I heard you offered on-site childcare, so I applied.”

“And what do you think of us so far?”

“Well,” you reach for your tablet again, but he stops you.

“Without the numbers, please?”

You hesitate for a second. “It’s… it’s warm, I guess. Everyone’s really nice here and no one minds when Etsuko runs off yet again, coming to find me in my office. I know it’s my job to look for opportunities to improve your brand and your agency, but I am constantly at odds.”

“Why is that?” 

“If you could have an Agency like Endeavour, would you do it if it meant giving up all the things that make you special?”

He considers it. If there’s no on-site childcare at Endeavour’s, and he’d have to give this one up, quite a few of his employees would fall away. Like Kuno-kun, who brings in his daughter and his wife’s homemade baking. Or Noda-san, who knits scarfs for everyone in the winter and who’s using the child-care for her grandsons. 

There’d be no longer the laughter of children heard in the hallways, no more drawings handed over at the end of a semester.

“No, I don’t think I’d want to give that up. At least not all of it. But we could find a compromise, I guess. Make the best of what we are. If that means we’ll stay at Nr. 58, I’m fine with that. Being a Hero doesn’t mean to have the highest rank, but to save the most people, right?”

Surprise flickers over your face. 

It’s gone as fast as it came but he likes to believe that he made an impact on you.

-

“How are you all doing today?”

Almost fifteen children surround him. The older ones are holding back in favor of the younger ones, he can tell, but they’re all so eager to tell him about their adventures.

“One after the other, okay?” Toyomitsu settles on a nearby chair. “But first we have to ask: who’s our newest member?”

Etsuko steps forward. Her hair is pulled up into little pigtails and she looks adorable.

“Hi, Etsuko. Do you want to sit on my lap today? You have to be careful though, because if you lean too much into me, I might suck you in.”

Her eyes widen, but the kids around her giggle. “Do it!” They tell her. “It’s so much fun.”

So she does, giggling almost hysterically as the fat absorption kicks in. Only her head’s left out, her pigtails whipping around as she shakes her head, giggling.

“If you want out, all you have to do is tell me, okay? No kicking.”

She nods. 

At the end of this month's visit to the children, he leaves with a hand full of drawings and one sucker, tucked into his hand by one of the older children. 

Toyomitsu’s almost down the hallway when he feels someone tugging at his legs. He turns to see Etsuko toddling after him. She reaches for him. 

“Up?” She asks and he can’t say no to her big eyes and her small pout.

If he walks around the agency for a bit with her sitting on his shoulder instead of directly taking her back, that’s his secret and his secret alone.

-

Months pass.

Toyomitsu implements the first of your proposals. His ranking moves, slowly at first, until he finds himself at Nr. 35. 

Etsuko has begun sneaking into his office once a week, handing him a drawing or a slice of fruit, left over from her lunch. Sometimes he lets her sit on his lap, listening to her talk about her day. 

Certainly, you must know about it. How else could she bring in expensive chocolates one day and have your handwriting on her drawing the next, clearly pointing out that the yellow blob is him? 

He’s been thinking a lot about you lately. 

More than he should about one of his employees. 

But he likes the way you talk, all serious one second, rattling down numbers and statistics, until he makes a joke and you can’t stop giggling, your voice suddenly smooth and soft.

He likes the way you look in the early mornings when Etsuko’s done her best to make you late, when your hair’s not done up perfectly and you’re missing your usual makeup. Or when you’d been with her for lunch and no one’s told you yet that there’s a sticky handprint on your blouse or your skirt is wrinkled, no doubt from Etsuko pulling on it.

You love your niece and he loves to see all signs of it, like an imprint you cannot wipe away.

So far, you haven’t shown any signs of interest in him.

You’ve started calling him by his last name, though, foregoing the “Sir” for most of the time. 

But that doesn’t mean that you’d consider a date with him, right? 

Or is he starting to get delusional?

-

“What do you think, Daddy?” Toyomitsu freezes. 

Etsuko’s sitting on his lap, fingertip moving over one of her drawings as she explains.

It had been a perfectly fine moment up until now.

“What did you just call me?”

“Daddy!” She looks up at him, grinning so wide it must hurt her face. “Because you’re my Daddy.”

“I… well…” He struggles. He doesn’t know what to say. “Etsuko, you cannot call me that.”

“Eh? Why?” She pulls at his shirt. “Are you not my Daddy?”

“No, Etsuko. I’m not your Daddy. I like you a lot and I want to be your friend, but I’m not your Daddy.”

Her eyes start to water and he can feel himself panicking. He’s normally not that bad with kids, but this… this is just catching him on the wrong foot at the wrong time.

“Look,” he tries to explain. “It’s like with your Aunty, right? She loves you a lot, but she’s not your Mommy.”

“But you’re my Daddy!” Etsuko’s hands are balled into fists now. “Mommy said that Daddy was big and butiful and nice! You are my Daddy.”

“Oh, Etsuko.” Toyomitsu pulls her in, realizing her mistake. She’s crying into his shirt now, her tears more fueled by confusion and anger than real sadness. He lets her cry it out before he picks her up.

“I think we need to talk to your Aunty for a moment about this, okay?”

-

He hadn’t thought your face could turn any more serious, but he’d been mistaken. 

There’s no softness left in your features as he explains. Etsuko’s sitting on your lap now, face snuggled into your blazer. He’s pretty sure that’s going to leave stains, but he’s also sure he shouldn’t point it out right now.

“I didn’t know,” you say. And “I’m sorry she bothered you this much.” And “I will make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

At some point he realizes that you’re no longer listening to him, ears closed off from his explanations. He can do nothing but leave you, wondering if he’s just ruined everything that could have possibly been.

-

For the following week, he gets no visits from Etsuko.

Toyomitsu does not dare to visit her in childcare either, unsure of what you want.

But he’s got an appointment with you on Thursday that he puts all his hopes on.

When you come in he can tell that you must have spent an extra minute preparing yourself beforehand, because there is no hair out of place and you’re wearing lipgloss like battle armor.

He feels wholly unprepared for this fight, even less so after losing a quarter of his body fat in yesterday’s fight.

But the sight of him, so much smaller and thinner than you’ve gotten to know him, seems to soften the resolve in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

“If you refer to my body, I will be. I have to eat a lot in the next few days to get back to my usual form, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. If you refer to something else… No, I’m not okay with how this played out.

“About that…” You gingerly sink into your chair, hands folded over your lap. You’re not looking at him. “I did some more research. I should have done that ages ago. I… I’ve found Etsuko’s father.”

His heart beats painfully.

“Who is it?”

“His name’s Kan Sekijiro. I don’t know if you know hi-”

“Vlad King?”

“Ah, yes. So you know him?”

“I know of him. One of his students interned here. He’s… did you contact him?”

“Not yet.” You purse your lips. Considering that all Etsuko knew about her father… I am sorry that she got you confused. I know this is highly unprofessional and-”

“I don’t care.”

You still. Your eyes flicker over to him.

“Look,” he leans forward, can’t help it. He needs you to understand this. “This isn’t just Etsuko’s doing alone. I like spending time with her. I could have stopped anytime, bring her back every time she came over to my office. I didn’t put a stop on it and maybe I should have, but I…”

“What?”

“I have to preface this by saying that I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or… or put you in a tight spot because I’m your employer, but-”

“Spit it out.” Your words are harsh and rushed and he can tell you regret them the second they leave your mouth. But you’re right. He’s stalling.

“I am interested in you.”

Your jaw slackens, your features soften with that well-known dumbfoundedness. 

As you bury your face in your hands, he can feel his heart sink. Fighting criminals is so much easier than facing rejection.

“Are you okay?” He asks when your face doesn’t come back up. You nod into your hands.

“Are you sure? You’re not looking too good there.”

“It feels like my Quirk is overloading. I am…”

“Overthinking? I am familiar with that. Not that I suffer from it, but you’ve met Suneater, I guess.” He tries to joke, make light of the situation. It’s what makes you finally lift your head.

“If you’re serious,” you bite through your teeth, “About this. About… Etsuko and me. I… I’d take you out to dinner.”

Toyomitsu blinks. He’s expected everything but that.

“Are you serious?” He asks and you groan. 

“No, I mean yes. But… you know how much I eat, right?”

You huff, looking away. He’s not the worlds expert in flirting, but you do look kinda flustered. 

“I might have looked up All-You-Can-Eat-Restaurants ever since I’ve gotten to know you,” you mumble and the pout on your lips looks eerily like Etsuko’s.

-

“I’m home!” Toyomitsu calls out from the Genkan.

To his surprise, no tiny feet come running. When he peeks around the corner he finds you curled up on the Couch, an open book next to you on the floor. You must have fallen asleep reading.

“Hey,” he cards a hand through your hair to wake you gently. “Shouldn’t Sekijiro be back before dinner?”

“What?” You try to wipe the sleep from your eyes while snuggling into him. “Oh, no, he called before I took a nap. He’s bringing her back after Dinner. Apparently, they’re making pancakes.”

“Ah, did you tell him to bring leftovers?” He jokes, chuckling when you nod earnestly.

.

Life is good. 

He’s got a wife and a daughter and his daughter’s father has turned into a good friend.

He’s got a job he enjoys, a Quirk he can rely on and so far he’s been able to stay himself.

There’s not much he’d wish for nowadays. 

Well, except maybe some more food.

.

You’re still on the Couch when he walks into the kitchen, fully intending to make Dinner as soon as he’s gotten a little snack from the fridge.

But inside the fridge is a huge box. He furrows his brows and pulls it out. He recognizes the branding, but you only buy a cake at this bakery for important dates, like your wedding anniversary or Etsuko’s first day in kindergarten.

“Baby, did I miss an event?” He asks, flipping open the lid.

“Why do you ask?”

“There’s a cake in the fri-”

“Don’t open it!” You yell, rushing over. But the lid’s already open. The buttercream frosting is light blue and the icing a dark blue. Big, bold letters write out “World’s best Dad!”

“This is nice,” he says as you reach him, clearly out of breath and a little haggard. “But you didn’t have to buy an expensive cake to let me know. Not that I mind. Or is it for Sekijiro?”

“Ah,” your face is doing some weird contortions. 

His eyes flicker back to the icing and something in his head clicks at the color.

“Taishirou, I’m pregnant.”

[landoscar-f1]

Soft Launch? nah HARD launch - OP81 social media au

Pairing: OP81 x singer!fem!reader

yourusername

liked by oliviarodrigo, conangray and 321,194 others

yourusename: ...i might have done a little something...

view all comments

user1: POOKIE IS SOFT LAUNCHING. I REPEAT POOKIE IS SOFT LAUNCHING

user2: enough is enough. WHY IS EVERY SINGER LAUNCHING A RELATIONSHIP

oliviarodrigo: tell him he's invited to our next sleepover!!

yourusername: i will!! :D

conangray: who's the cutie

yourusername: oh conan im blushing... :3

conangray: i meant your little boy toy

yourusername: blocked.

conangray: it's the truth wym

yourusername: you're uninvited from the sleepover.

user3: im sorry what the fuck is going on here

user4: I THOUGHT SHE WAS A GIRLS GIRL

yourusername: me having a "boy toy" doesnt mean im no more a girls girl sweetcheeks

oliviarodrigo

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,345,757 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: a certain someone (olivia) had almost outed us so here's my lovely girlfriend. i love you.

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oliviarodrigo: im not gonna say sorry after this post

user8: HOW DO THEY EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER?!?!?!!

user9: apparently y/n was in the boarding school as a transfer student around the same time as oscar

logansargeant: im in your walls.

mclaren: i dont think you understand the pr situation at hand 😭

yourusername: i dont think he understands the pr situation my pr team is facing as well 😭😭

yourusername: what happened to soft launching??????

oscarpiastri: too boring.

yourusername: I LOVE YOUUUU

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOOO

yourusername: bf

oscarpiastri: gf

landonorris: i DID not need to see my teammate this graphically

user10: what happened to hello, how are you???

user11: I NEED THE RELATIONSHIP TIMELINE. WHEN HOW WHY WHAT

user12: I THINK WERE FORGETTING THE PICS

user13: oh no no. we're just all collectively not thinking about any of our pookies the way he wants us to think.

user14: okay but like I DIDNT KNOW IT WAS HARD LAUNCH SEASON????

thejourney_magazine

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 2,357,397 others

tagged: yourusername, lauranorris

thejourney_magazine: this month's cover of the journey is up and features singer, songwriter y/n y/ln who doesn't let the struggles of her past and fame stop her from unapologetically embracing who she is. inside y/n touches upon her struggle of a few years back, as a minor paving her own way through the tough entertainment industry, going to boarding school in an unknown country, finding the love of her life and rocking the world with her music.

interviewed and written by: laura norris

view all comments

user15: mother is mothering on the cover

user16: i have never listened to a y/n song so like i might have to tune in for a few

lauranorris: thank you for the opportunity y/n!! hope to see you in the paddock sometime soon!

yourusername: thank you for being such a sweetheart! i'll be there in suzuka!

user17: i guess we're not gatekeeping her to us anymore

conangray: my bestie is FAMOUS famous

oliviarodrigo: right?? watch her forget us when she becomes a world star

yourusername: ...guys you do realize you're more famous than me and WHAT DO YOU MEAN I'LL FORGET YOU WHEN I BECOME A WORLD STAR???? YOU GUYS ALREADY ARE WORLD STARS

oscarpiastri: loml is on the cover 🥰

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 1,123,658 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: so like yeah

comments are limited for the post

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Bloom 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, allusions to trauma, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After wasting much of your youth in a toxic situation, things are starting to look up. That’s until you meet a certain flower seller.

Characters: Cole Turner, short!reader

Note: My sweet pathetic man.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You’re silent as you walk next to Cole. He’s so much taller than you. The sun beats down and adds to the heat beneath your flesh. You fold your hands together as your eyes scan the fields and pollen tickles your nostrils. 

“So... you have a good week?” He asks, his voice crisp yet brittle. 

You nod, “mhm.” 

“Everything okay now?” 

“Uh...” you blink and shake your head. “I guess.” 

“Just that last time, you sort of... ran away from me. So if I did anything, I’d like to know so I can apologise,” he explains. 

“Oh no, you didn’t... do anything. It’s just me.”  

Another lull rises around you. You twine your fingers together and wring your hands until your knuckles hurt. He steps ahead of you as you approach the greenhouse. 

“It’s hot inside so if you need a break,” he says. “Let me know.” 

You nod and go through first as he waits. He follows and you look around at the tables full of long planters. Some are just sprouting, others are about to bloom, while others are overgrown. He points you along a row and you gratefully latch onto the distraction of the flowers. 

“You know, I was really looking forward to this,” he says. You glance at him in surprise. He grins and his blue eyes meet yours. “Really. I’m not just saying that. I don’t meet a lot of people very interested in all this. Or who know so much.” He turns and puts his hand on the table, “Maybe I forgot to say but your garden is beautiful. I can see all the care you put into it.” 

You look back to the pansies, “it’s Aunt Bev’s.” 

“Yeah, but she said you do all the work.” 

“She’s nice that way,” you shrug. 

“You’re too humble.”  

You shake your head and look closer at the petals. 

“You can touch. It won’t hurt them.” He says. 

“Oh, no, it’s...” you sniff. “Smells nice in here.” 

“Yeah,” he wipes his forehead, “but hot as hell.” 

“Ha, yeah,” you tug at the collar of your shirt. “A little.” 

“Well, you can look around as much as you like. And after, I’ll show you the loft.” 

You keep your eyes on the table, “the loft?” 

“Yeah, sure, it’s neat. You’ll like it,” he says. 

You continue to wander down as you admire all the different species and stems. Cole gives you your space. You’re thankful for that. Not just because it’s warm but because you’re not quite sure about all of this. He’s nice, his Aunt Jill too, but you’re just not used to all this. 

The longer you linger, the thicker the sheet of sweat that drenches your body. You feel it seeping into your clothing. You head back to the door and peer around. You don’t see him anywhere around.

Did he leave? Why would he do that? You don’t know where to go? You could get lost here! 

He pops up from behind a table, “oop, you all done?” He asks as he swipes back a shank of hair from his forehead. “I was just transferring some bulbs.” He bends and lifts a large planter up beside the others. The strength in that act further echoes your size difference once more. 

“Mhmm,” you confirm. “It must be a lot of work doing all this.” 

“I have help. Ma and Dad. They do what they can, you know? But I wish they wouldn’t. They deserve to enjoy their retirement.” He goes to the door and pushes it open. He holds it for you again. Outside, a breeze cools you. 

“Right,” you agree. 

“You know, if you got the time...” he begins then waves away his words. “Nah, you know what? I was just thinking out loud. Never mind.” 

“Wh-what?” You ask nervously. 

“Really, it’s nothing. I don’t wanna be too much. You know,” he hooks his fingers in his pockets and pushes his shoulders up. “I’ve been told I can be.” 

“Ah, er, right. Well... okay.” 

“Look, I should just ask,” he points you along, past the greenhouse. “I could use some help so you could maybe stop by and—I'd pay you. Obviously. It’s work. Is it like rude to offer you a job?” 

You stare at him. It’s unexpected but not really rude. It does make you feel lesser. You know it’s not his intent but you can put the puzzle together. He knows you don’t work, that Bev takes care of you, and a few extra bucks would be a help. Plus, it will get you out of the house. 

“Can I think about it?” You ask. 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he agrees eagerly. “Take as long as you like.” 

“Erm, thanks. It’s nice of you to... ask.”  

The wind rustles the green grass as you sink back into nervous tension. He guides you along to a barn and you near curiously. He steps ahead of you and slides open the large door. He turns back and smiles at you. 

“Come on,” he beckons you with his hand. As he enters, he shrugs out of his denim jacket. He hangs it on a peg. “How about you? You wanna put your sweater up?” 

“Oh, I guess,” you look down at the crochet; it’s itchy from the heat. You slip it off and hand it over. His fingers brush yours as he takes it and hangs it over his jacket. 

“Just up there,” he points to the ladder. 

“Oh? Okay,” you eye the rungs and rub your palms together. 

“Need any help?”  

“Um, no, I can...” your voice trails off and you reach for the ladder. 

You climb and your uncertainty ascends with you. What are you doing here? You’re suddenly afraid at the realisation that you’re all alone. That you don’t know how you could get out if you need to or if anyone would hear you cry out. 

No, this is Cole. You don’t have any reason to expect that. Aunt Bev says things are different now. Not all people are bad. Not like your mom. 

Cole follows you up. You stand and look around the loft. You see the dim shapes of furniture set across the wooden slats. 

He shuffles by you and opens the window, pushing the doors outward. The sunlight streams in and limns the space. There’s a day bed on a worn rug right in the center, a table to one wall with chair, a basket of apples on top, and a shelf of books.  

“Sometimes I just need a space of my own,” Cole says. “I thought, I don’t know, you might like it. You seem like the type to appreciate solace... you’re so quiet.” 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 

“For what?” He blinks at you. His eyes catch the sun with a twinkle. His hair curls with the humid sheen on his skin.  

“For... being quiet.” 

“I don’t mind. I’m sorry for talking so much,” he grins. 

You nod and bite your lip. You look around and pace along the floor, each step creaking. You go to the shelf and browse the book spines. 

“Do you read a lot?” He asks. 

“Sometimes,” you answer. “More now...” More now that you don’t have to hide your books. 

“You got a favourite?” He comes up next to you. Close. Too close. You don’t want to embarrass him by stepping away. 

“I don’t know. I read... I read Murder on the Orient Express. It was interesting.” 

“Wow, that’s a good one,” he praises. “I’m kinda into anything. Don’t get much time to read but I take my moments.” 

“Mmm, yeah.” 

Again, silence. You look down. You don’t know what to do or say. You feel like you have to explain yourself. You’re making him uncomfortable. Your mother always told you how weird you are. 

“I--” 

“You--” 

You both try to speak at the same time. He gestures with his hand, “you first.” 

“I...” you breathe. “I only really hang out with my aunt so... so... so...” you start to panic. You’ve already said too much. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I spend all my time with plants and at the market. By the time I’m done selling, I’m too exhausted for friends,” he says. “So, no pressure. You never have to talk for no reason. It’s always quiet out here. It’s nice.” He stares at you a moment before he looks back at the shelf, “I’d say it suits you.” 

You exhale. You feel a little better but still on edge. You teeter on your feet. 

“Can we go back inside? I don’t want Aunt Bev to worry.” You utter. 

“Sure, of course,” he answers, “you’re gonna think about it? Working with me?” 

“Yeah, I’ll think.” You agree. 

He moves first. He goes the ladder and turns. He starts down as you approach. You follow as his boots hit the ground. You descend, rung by rung, but you can’t find the next as you get halfway. You slip and gasp, Cole echoing you. 

He catches you as you fall and flail. You let out a squeak as he holds you in his arms, hiking you up so you don’t drop. Your shoulder is crushed to his chest. He’s touching you. Your hair feels like it’s going to fall out of your head. 

“Um, sorry!” You squeak. 

“Don’t be. That was close,” he sounds breathless himself. “I’m just happy I caught you. You okay?” 

“Y-yeah...” you stutter. 

He stares at you and you gulp. You stare at the collar of his shirt. His throat bobs and you squirm. 

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles and sets you on your feet. “There ya go.” 

“Thanks,” you cling to his arm as you steady yourself. You let go and fold your arm against your chest, hugging it with your other. 

“Come on,” he says and puts his hand behind you, not touching you.  

You emerge from the barn back into the yellow daylight. There’s a steady hum of insects and the soft flow of wind. You follow the beaten path back to the house. He lets you up the steps first and you go inside. He’s right behind you as you enter. 

“Sweetie,” you aunt surprises you as she appears in the archway to your left. “There you are! Did you see all the pretty flowers?” 

“Mhmm,” you nod and give a tight-lipped smile. 

“Everything alright? You look flustered?” Jill nears from behind her. 

You keep nodding. Cole laughs softly, “she had a bit of a slip but she’s okay. Maybe a bit of the heat getting to her too.” 

“Oh yes, it’s so hot today,” Jill agrees, “honey, how about something to drink? Maybe one of those delicious muffins you made?” 

She comes to you and squeezes your arm. You flinch and pull away. You’re still tense from falling. Right into Cole’s arm. You swear you can smell him.  

“Mom,” he warns. 

She looks down at her hand and retracts it, “sweetie, I’m so sorry. I forget. I can be so touchy-feely.” She shows her palms. “I’m surprised Cole’s keeping his hands to himself. He’s the worst for it, you know?” 

“Ma,” he coughs again. 

“Oh, that sounds worse than it is,” she cackles. “No, what I mean is he’s just a hugger, you know? He’s always been one. And he does give the best hugs.” 

“Ma,” he says a third time. 

“Right, right,” she huffs, “so, how about some iced tea?” 

You look at her, then Aunt Bev. You’d hate to be rude and you are a bit thirsty. Especially after being out in the dry heat. 

“Yes, please, thank you,” you say. 

“Not at all, sweetie,” she smiles, “Cole, would you like some?” 

“Sure, ma,” he says, “thanks.” 

Jill preens and struts away. Aunt Bev comes closer, “I am so happy you two are getting along. Oh, Cole, thank you for showing her around.” 

“Not at all. You know, I don’t get to show off very often.” 

“Really? But this place is so pretty. Isn’t it, dear?” She asks. 

You blanch then nod vehemently. You just want to fade into the background. You’d hope with your aunt and Jill, it’d be easier to do that. 

“Oh, and your muffins are fabulous. You really should have one,” she insists. 

You try to smile but your cheeks pinch tightly. 

“You know, I might just do that,” Cole intones. “Can I get you one?” 

You shake your head. He lingers, waiting for an answer. You choke out your voice at last, “no, thanks.” 

“Right,” he accepts and turns away. 

You peek over at Aunt Bev as she smiles after him. She likes him. If she likes him, he can’t be very bad. She’s not always so happy either. Especially since you came around. More often, she’s worried. You don’t want to always be a problem for her. 

“Um, Aunt Beverly,” you say, “I... Cole said I could come help out. He’ll pay me.” 

Her brows rise and she turns to you, “oh, really? And you want to?” 

You stare at her. You don’t know that you want to but you know you should. 

“I’ll do it,” you say at last. “I like the flowers.” 

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 3]

Sometimes you just miss your chance. Sometimes you have to take it.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

Length: I did not count sue me I guess

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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It's not uncommon for him not to see you much during his work. But today, especially considering how close you've gotten to him and how comfortable, it's weird to him that he doesnt see you at all.

"Jungkook.." Hana says, catching his attention as he mops the floor of the lunch area where all hybrids had just eaten a few minutes prior. "Do you have a moment?" she asks, voice soft and kind, though he's guarded, because he knows that soft-tune she puts on.

She's talking to him like she does to the other hybrids.

Something's up.

"Sure." he shrugs, putting the mop to the side before followong her to the side. "What's up? Did I do something?" he wonders, hands in his pockets while he leans against the wall behind him.

"I think you've already noticed that 268- the hybrid you've been spending time with.. She's not here." Hana says, and she doesn't need to say your name to make his eyes harden. Technically you don't have one after all, only your ID number he's able to recite back by pure instinct. He knows that she's talking about you. There's no one else she could mean.

"what about her?" he asks suspiciously, already irritated because deep down, he's got his fears. Maybe you've been adopted. Then he should be happy, right?

Except he isn't.

"She's been transferred..." Hana says, sighing before she crosses her arms in front of her, a clear sign she's going to try and justify that action while also blocking his for sure incoming anger. "...to a correctional facility in Daegu."

"What the fuck?!" he loudly barks out as soon as he hears that, visibly distressed. "Do you know what they fucking do to hybrids in these shitholes?" he demands to know, fists curled tightly as hed pushed himself off the wall vehind him, walking a step towards her. "She's gonna be even more traumatized in there, good fucking job!" he scoffs.

"please, a bit more quiet-" she tries as she notices some hybrids looking. "-she's gonna be fine. They're trained in cases like hers-"

"and if she doesnt comply she will just be sent to another, and another, and a-fucking-nother! Great solution, really!" he barks out, pulling the nametag from around his neck aggressively. "I'm done participating in this bullshit."

"Jungkook-" she tries, but he's already walking.

"I've got a week left of this work and I've not taken any days off." he says grimly, turning around with angry eyes. "I'm taking them now." He growls angrily, leaving the area to go grab his things- when a young man looks at him, then at his nametag Jungkook is taking off in frustration.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The man says, standing next to him dressed in all black, a facemask covering half of his face. He looks sketchy- and has caught Jungkook during the worst time possible.

"What!?" he snarls more or less, before a letter is pushed into his hand, catching him off guard.

"You're being summoned to court." the man says. Jungkook's blood runs cold at that.

"I've done the community service shit, what the hell?" he argues, but almost weakly so- because he knows he's powerless against the legal system. If they believe he needs further, worse punishment, then he'll have to take it.

"Oh they know, it's not about that." the guy says. "Or at least, not entirely. Read it at home. I think you'll be interested in showing up." the guy almost chuckles, cat-like eyes showing his amusement over the situation.

"..huh." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, turning around to go grab his bag.

"Ah, and Jungkook-ssi." the guy calls out, making the younger man roll his eyes as he turns around. "could you borrow me some of your clothes?"

"..the fuck?" he squints his eyes, unsure what this stranger wants with his clothes of all things. "Why would you want my stuff?" He asks, cringing a bit.

"I think anything that's got your scent on it would do. Just bring something when you visit." the man says, handing him a card, and a plastic.. ID, similar to the one he uses to wear at the center right here. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it."

The card is from the Hybrid Behavioral Therapy Center in Daegu, contact info and location address clearly written down beneath the logo. But it'sthe plastic ID card that makes hus eyes widen, because it clearly spells out;

'Special Clearance Pass: Potential owner for hybrid 268.'

[yandere-romanticaa]

Continuation of this post here.

ENDING ONE - you left the ADA.

With a heavy heart you chose to leave the Agency.

Chuuya was beyond thrilled and he was extremely vocal with his joy. In almost no time everything you owned was transferred elsewhere, far away from any prying eyes and possibly bothersome individuals. All that was left of you was the single resignation letter you wrote in a hurry and left in on the president's desk late into the evening when no one else was in the office.

You sit in a comfortable couch and gaze downwards into the city, a glass of fine wine in your hand but your mind is elsewhere. You see Dazai and Atsushi questioning the nearby civilians on your possible whereabouts, even going as far by showing them several photos of you to them.

It was all in vain though. Absolutely everything was wiped away about you, everything, the Port Mafia made it so.

Chuuya made it so.

Feeling his presence behind you was odd, it was so hard to get used to. The scent of fine cologne and cigarette smoke always clung to him but it was addicting in its own little way. You often found yourself laying awake in the middle of the night, thinking about Chuuya as the other side of the bed was empty and vacant mostly due to the fact that Chuuya was often beyond busy. You thought about him and his actions, how good he was to you despite his shortcomings, despite the lack of freedom and autonomy you were basically royalty in the criminal underworld.

Say the word and Chuuya would even buy you a crown if you so wished.

"What's got you so worked up sugar?" said Chuuya as he pressed his lips onto your soft neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses anywhere he could manage to reach. As he did so he managed to catch a glimpse of the Agency members all gathering up in one place, most likely trying to figure out a new strategy of how to bring you back.

He tsked, his teeth suddenly sinking deeper into your neck, leaving a big purple bruise without a doubt. He quickly shut the blinds and wrapped his arms around your waist, engulfing you in his presence completely now.

There was no way you could move. You could feel him scowling against you. "You don't need those bastards." Another kiss, another quiet little tsk.

"Not when you have me."

He was right. You did have him. He was your whole world now.

Chuuya never did figure out just who was harassing you so much and that still made him a little mad. But beggars can't be choosers and after all this time he could finally hold you, he could finally be with you without any worries.

His fantasy was finally a reality.

🕊️ TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @sxy0ung, @misdollface, @rosemary108233, @itssara-chan

Oh my, just who is the the stalker? Well, guess we'll have to see in the ADA ending but I won't stop you from trying to guess. Stay tuned everyone!

[vodika-vibes]

The Orchard

Summary: When you move to Mandalore after the deaths of your family, you expect that no one is going to care about what happens to you. You want to stop existing. Unfortunately for you, Thire, a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter and your neighbor, won’t be denied.

Pairing: Pre-Commander Thire x F!Reader

Word Count: 2929

Warnings: Reader is depressed, mentions of attempted financial abuse, mentions of death

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I'm happy with the first part of this, but not super happy with the last part, but I think I'm over thinking it.

Six months ago, your entire family was killed in a house fire.

Your parents, your siblings, your grandparents…all dead. The firefighters told you that the fire itself didn’t kill them. They said that the smoke detectors never went off, and your family died of smoke inhalation.

They said that they didn’t suffer, they just didn’t wake up.

As if that was supposed to help you feel better.

Your family isn’t the only one that died, of course. There were 60 families living in the apartment complex…almost all of them died.

The landlord didn’t have any of the smoke detectors hooked up at all. They were fake. Every single one of them.

He was arrested. And then the complex itself was sued.

You got almost 3 million credits.

3 million credits in exchange for your family.

And then!

And then your aunts and uncles came out of the woodwork. “Oh, sweetie, I heard what happened. You’re too young and too sad to have to deal with all of that money, why don’t you transfer it to me-”

Disgusting. Pathetic. Sorry excuses for family.

Luckily, they can’t touch your money.

Unluckily, they haven’t stopped harassing you. 

In the end, you packed up your life and you walked away. From everything.

Your friends, what remains of your family, your job, your school. None of it matters in the long run.

Six months ago your family died. Two months ago you moved from Coruscant to this orchard on Mandalore. You have droids that help tend to the trees, and you have a strict no contact order for the remainder of your money hungry family, and you’re continuing your education virtually, and you’re working virtually, and you’re…managing.

Just managing, though.

No one here will care if you stop showing up to buy food. No one here will even notice.

It’s the perfect place to just…disappear.

“Little Miss,” You lift your head from the table you were half using as a pillow and squint at the red and green droid standing over you, “Little Miss, there is not enough food left in the house for another week.” The Droid says, “It is time for you to go grocery shopping.”

You groan, “You can go.”

“Droids are not permitted into the shopping center,” Tevo replies, “I have already made a list of all the food items you need to survive another week.”

Slowly you sit up and tug the sheet of flimsy from his unresisting hands, and you squint at the sheet, “Tevo, there’s no alcohol on this list.”

“Yes, little miss. You’ve been drinking too much as it is.”

“...what are you, my keeper?”

“Yes, little miss. I am.” Tevo replies, “I have also taken the liberty of doing the laundry and have a fresh set of clothes set out on the bed. Also, the shower is currently running so you can get clean.”

You stare at the droid, and the droid stares back passively. 

“Fine.” You finally say, “Anything else?”

“I have taken the liberty of pouring all of the alcohol down the drain, and will do so with any you bring into this home.”

“You suck.”

“As you say, little miss.”

You sigh and swing your legs to the side to hop off of the stool to head to your room, “Is there anything else, Tevo?”

“It would be prudent for you to start walking the Orchard once a day.”

You sigh heavily, “I’m tired, Tevo.”

“I understand, little miss. We will put that off for the time being.” With that said, he walks into the kitchen, and starts messing with the dishes. You thought Tevo was a farming droid, not a nanny droid.

Guess not.

You stumble into your bedroom, and, true to his word, there’s a clean outfit spread on the bed, perfectly color coordinated, and the shower is running in the next room.

He even laid out everything that you might need to shower properly, from shampoo and condition, to face wash, and the lotion you prefer.

“Well,” You mumble to the empty room, “Since he already pulled everything out, I suppose I’ll use them.” You peel your pajamas off and toss them in the empty laundry basket, before you step into the shower.

It’s probably a good thing that you have Tevo, or else your home would be a mess, and moth-

You stop that line of thought immediately, a sharp pain in your chest. 

It’s almost a shame. You have no more tears left to cry.

You stand under the hot water for almost an hour, but when you finally leave the shower you’re clean and your hair is washed for the first time in a week. You’re sure Tevo will mark it on a calendar somewhere, and make a note that he can bully you into taking care of yourself.

You pull your hair into a messy tail, while it’s still drenched, and then you pull on the clothes that Tevo pulled out. You don’t remember buying these…but then your memory has been shit this last half year, so maybe you did.

There’s heavy footsteps and you turn as Tevo walks into the room, “How are you liking your new clothes, little miss?”

“...new?”

“Yes. I have replaced all of your clothing, as well as your hygiene care, with things that will be easier for you to use.”

You blink at him, “...and that means?”

“Familiar scents from before made you sad, so I changed the scents.”

Oh.

Now that you’re thinking about it, the shampoo and conditioner, not to mention your body wash and lotion, all had a clean citrusy scent to them, rather than the heavy floral scent that made you want to scream and cry.

“...thank you.”

The droid tilts his head, and then passes a pair of boots to you, “It is supposed to rain, these will keep your feet warm and dry. The speeder has already been pulled up front and K8 will be driving you.”

“I do know how to drive.” You reply with a frown.

“Respectfully, you allowed your license to lapse. So legally, you cannot.”

“I…really?”

“Yes, little miss.”

You sigh and rub your face. “I suppose I should take care of that.”

“K8 is happy to drive you around.” Tevo replies, “So there is no need.” He gently ushers you out of the room and into the living room. You sit on the couch to pull on the boots, “While you are gone, I shall clean the house.”

And then he pushes you out of the house.

How long has it been since you left the house? A week? Longer?

The sun is warm against your skin, and you can’t help but think that maybe a walk would be nice.

“‘Lo there!” You jump when you hear a sudden voice, and you look up to see a man wearing red and black armor leaning on the fence, “I was wondering who moved in.” He says with a bright smile. 

You hesitate for a moment, you really don’t want to make any friends here, but you have the feeling that Tevo is going to take that decision out of your hands too. “Um…yeah. A couple of months ago.” You offer awkwardly, as you walk around the speeder and towards the fenceline.

“I knew someone moved in when I saw the droids taking care of the orchard, but I think this is the first time I’ve seen you,” He beams at you and offers his hand, “Thire.”

Slowly you take his hand and offer him your name in return, “Nice to meet you.” You add almost absently.

“Likewise! Where’d you move from?”

“Oh, ah…Coruscant.”

“Ah, the heart of the Republic.” He has a kind smile, “Quite a change, how do you like Mandalore so far?”

“Oh…um…I haven’t seen much of it, really. I…don’t get out much.” You say hesitantly.

“And here I was thinking we just kept missing each other,” Thire’s voice is light and teasing, “But, I suppose if I moved to Coruscant after living here my whole life, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“I have an idea,” Thire offers with an easy grin, “How about you come out with me tonight? My brothers and I like to hit the bars before the weekend.”

You hesitate, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You finally admit.

Thire leans against the fence, his dark eyes scanning your face, “Are you okay?” He asks gently.

“...no. Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“...I came to Mandalore to disappear.” You say quietly, “It was very nice to meet you, but-”

Thire doesn’t say anything for a moment, “Ah. I understand.” His smile is gentle again, “I’ll get out of your way then.”

“I…sorry.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

He moves out of the way, and you slowly climb into the passenger seat of the speeder. K8 waits until you’re buckled in, and then she starts the speeder and shoots away.

Thire watches the speeder until it’s little more than a dot on the horizon, and then he hops the fence and jogs up to the front door.

The previous owners of the Orchard were family friends, he half grew up in this house, and had been devastated when he heard that it had been sold to a stranger. He knew the new owner was taking care of the orchard itself, the small army of droids tending to everything was proof enough, but it was weird that he never met the owner.

He genuinely thought that they just kept missing each other.

Until right now.

She looked…bad.

Dark circles under her eyes, unhealthily thin, and just…sad. So sad.

He knocks on the door, and is genuinely surprised when a droid opens the door. “Hello.” The droid says politely, “The Little Miss just left.”

“...does she live here alone?” Thire asks, his lips turning down. So much for his theory that she’s being held against her will.

“Sadly, yes.” The Droid pauses, and Thire gets the feeling that the droid is judging his worth, “I am called Tevo. Would you like to come in?”

Thire doesn’t verbally answer, he just steps inside and waits for Tevo to continue. “You know, I thought that she was being abused-”

“It is a long, sad, story.” Tevo replies, as he leads the way into the kitchen.

The house looks the same as it did the last time he visited, only with newer furniture. “Sad how?” Thire nearly drops the datapad the droid shoves into his hands, “What’s this?”

“The story.”

Thire eyes Tevo, and then looks down at the datapad. There, written in the cold, unfeeling language of a journalist, is the story of how his new neighbor came to live on Mandalore.

He reads about the fire, about how many people died, about the landlord going to jail and the wrongful death settlement.

And then he reads private notes at the bottom detailing how her family and friends flocked to her once she received the payout. How they tried to take the money from her. How they tried to force her out of the memorial.

How they broke her down to the point where running was the only option.

“She’s depressed.” Thire says slowly.

“Yes.”

“She’s been drinking?”

“Too much.”

Thire’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Right, I’m taking her out for dinner tonight.”

“She will not want to go.”

“Tough shit. There’s life after loss. She just needs someone to show her how to see it.” Thire replies, “And I can be that person.” He passes the datapad back to Tevo and turns back to the door, “Thanks for the info.”

“You are welcome.”

Thire leaves the house and heads home, his comm already in his hands as he begs out of drinking with his brothers, claiming something important came up. 

And while they give him a hard time, none of them mean it, they just make him promise that he’ll be there next week, and that’s the end of it.

Once he’s sure that no one is going to bother him, he spends the rest of the afternoon making sure his fire pit is clean, and can be safely lit, and he makes a thick and hearty stew with a fancy dessert.

And, just as the sun goes down, he lights the fire pit, and then jogs back over to his neighbors house.

She opens the door, and there’s a flicker of surprise on her face, “Ah…Thire…can I help you?”

“Yeah, come with me.”

“...what?”

“I made too much dinner, and I need someone to help me eat it.” Thire says with a grin, “It’s a stew, and, if I may say so myself, I am an awesome cook.”

She hesitates, and for a moment he thinks she’s going to beg out, when Tevo comes to his rescue, “An Excellent idea. That means I don’t have to cook and can finish cleaning.”

She looks slightly thrown, but nods slowly, “...okay.”

“Great, come on!”

Thire leads her down the driveway and then over to his house across the street, and then walks her around back to where the fire pit is burning. “Let me go and get the food, juice or water?”

“Juice is fine, thank you.” She replies as she slowly sinks onto one of the chairs, and flickers her gaze over his house. 

Thire vanishes into the house, and then returns a moment later with two bowls of stew, some fresh bread, and two glasses of juice. “There. Go ahead and dig in. Let me know what you think, and don’t worry about trying to spare my feelings!”

“Did you make all of this yourself?”

“I like cooking.” Thire replies with a shrug, “What about you?”

“I’ve never been much of a chef.” She admits as she slowly takes a bite of the food, and then another one. 

Success!

“Too busy?”

“Too impatient.” She corrects, “It’s not done immediately, so it’s a waste of time.”

“Ah, no wonder you’re so thin.” Thire teases.

She ducks her head, “I…um…haven’t had much of an appetite since…”

He smiles kindly, “Well, you seem to like my cooking well enough.”

She shrugs, “It’s good. It’s been awhile since anything has tasted good.”

“Well, I’m flattered. And more than happy to cook for you. Especially since it means that you have to leave your house.”

She pauses, and then sighs, “You heard about-”

“Tevo told me. I was worried you were being abused, and went to do some digging when you went to the store. Sorry.”

“Well, if my family had their way-”

“Yeah. Well, if they show up, you can give me a call, and I’ll take care of it.”

“...why do you even care?”

“Because you don’t.” Thire says, “And someone has to.”

“Knock, knock!” You look up from your datapad as your front door swings open and Thire walks in a wide grin on his handsome face. “There you are, pretty girl, I was surprised to see my home so clean when I got back.”

“Ah, well…” You duck your head, “It didn’t seem right to let you come home to a mess.” You say quietly.

His grin widens, “You’re the best.”

It’s been a year now, since you’ve been left an orphan, and you’re doing better. Or, you think you’re doing better. 

And Thire seems to agree. As you put on more weight, and as you slept more, and as you started agreeing to outings with him and his brothers, his smiles got brighter and brighter.

You like his smile. You want to keep seeing it. And so you keep improving.

You’ll never stop missing  your parents and siblings, but with the passage of time, you’re able to remember the good, rather than the bad.

You squeak when he folds his arms around your shoulders, “Anyway, ner mesh’la, I’m making a stew tonight, you coming over for dinner?”

“Shouldn’t someone else be making dinner for you? Since you just returned.”

“You hate cooking,”

“Why do you assume that I’m the one going to cook for you?” You ask.

He rests his chin on your shoulder, “Because you’re the only one I’m interested in cooking for me.”

You huff, even as your face heats, and he chuckles, “Pretty girl,” He coos, dropping a kiss to your temple, “You always get so flustered when I flirt with you.”

“You’re impossible.” You mutter.

“Impossibly in love.”

“Honestly, Thire-”

He grins at you, “Come on, pretty girl, let’s go dancing tonight.”

“I have two left feet.” You reply dryly.

“And I have two right feet! We’re a match made in heaven!” 

You laugh, “Okay, okay. I was never actually going to say no, Thire.”

“Score! My brother’s are going to be so jealous.” He drops a quick kiss to your cheek, “And now to bully Tevo into making me food.”

“I have already made food for you, Master Thire.” Tevo says as he sets a plate on the bar.

“You’re the best, Tevo.” He drops onto the stool, and grins at you, “So, what are you working on, pretty girl?”

“Oh, nothing important.” You smile at him softly, “Welcome back, by the way.”

“Glad to be back,” His gaze is soft and warm, and you duck your head.

You know that Thire means every word he says to you, and you also know that he’s willing to wait until you’re ready for a relationship. But, at this rate, you have a feeling that you’re going to be ready sooner than you think.

After all, you already feel the same way.

[symphonic-scream]

Okay.

New Arcana Swap

(tag for now is Transboy Haru I need a new name for this I know)

Anyways. It's been like 2 hours here's everything I have so far

So it's a Fool Haru au, but as a trans guy. He's been transitioning since the year before he started high school, and he's had top surgery. Now he's in his final year, and he's being shipped out to Tokyo after a summer in Juvi, all for something he didn't do

Toranosuke Yoshida as the Hierophant with Goro as the Hermit too it's. This ex politician who has been adopting these kids who's rich and important parents abandon them

Emperor Makoto. And then with Makoto, she's been "staying" with Kobayakawa as a pupil and StuCo Prez, and once he's confessed, she reaches out to her sister and returns home to live with Hanged Man Sae. She's sorta non-binary genderfluid? She doesn't have a term coined yet. But pronouns vary each day

Makoto: thanks, so much. For saving me, for helping me find my sister again, for accepting who I am, and- and for loving me,

Haru: oh, Mako dearest,

Makoto, crying: d-dont look at me like that, Loverboy. Just- let's hurry, the others are waiting

(in case you couldn't tell yet, this is Okujima)

Haru: hey why are you so close with that pharmacist?

Yoshida: oh, cause. I take pills?

It's cause Goro's on anti-psychotics lmao

It's how he so easily got Haru in with the counsellor Death Maruki

Maruki: yep, I see your files are completely true. So, I'll get you set up with your old regime of hormones

Haru: just like that?

Maruki: yep, but I also have to give you anger management sessions. Your parole demands it

Haru: ...I understand. Just, thank you. For understanding who I am

Chariot Shiho and Lovers Futaba, and the Temperance is Kanji-

Cause his husband is the Judgement and their wife is Fortune-

Moon Joker, Magician Ryuji (he's a lil lizard), Star Ann, Empress, uh, Yusuke?

Shiho a recovering amputee. She got in an accident that ended her volleyball career, but she's trying to not get too depressed about it

She cost them the national title. She ends up starting her training again to aim for the Paralympics, and manages the school team

Shiho: hey, why was Shit Head calling you a girl?

Haru: I, I'm trans,

Shiho: THAT BASTARD! Urgh, I'm so sorry, I know a teacher who'll help report that bullshit. I'm Shiho Suzui, school cripple. Nice to meet you, transfer boy

Haru: thanks, I'm Haru Yoshida. Thanks for not, freaking out on ke

Ryuji's a little bearded dragon in the real world

And MORGANA! He's like, Shinya's age? Human

He's playing the hero, trying to take down the Yakuza that ruined his family and left him alone, but he's young and scared, and the group saves him and he moves in with Yoshida too and he's like Haru's little brother

Goro: you're getting soft, old man.

Yoshida: maybe I am. Or maybe, I'm finally doing what I was meant to all along

He runs a homey beef bowl shop and Haru helps out, and Morgana sits at the counter slurping his noodles and Goro studies away in the back booth. Little family of three brothers

Goro: thanks for changing my heart, I guess

Futaba: no problem, man

Goro: ...I, feel like I need to tell you all. My mom was schizophrenic, and I've been being treated for it since Yoshida took me in. I, I'm gonna get myeds adjusted too. So I can be reliable for you all as navigator

Shiho: whatever you need to be yourself, and to be healthy

Haru: and if you end up like that again, we'll race back in and save you

It's shown in how his palace would change every other day. Like if you wait too long the infiltration route changes

Once he's doing better again, he gets back into school, and ends up in the other third year class with Makoto

Goro: your partner is a pain in my ass. They're making it hard to get that #1 spot

Haru: isn't my love so smart?

Goro: fucking gross. Bleh. I'm going to go watch a documentary on serial killers.

Toranosuke and his three sons, such a proud dad

Haru doesn't leave Tokyo at the end of the year. He gets formally adopted, and moves from the attic to the proper Yoshida house

Naoto: so. You're the leader of the Phantom Thieves?

Haru: ...what's it matter how I answer? They got their signed confession.

Naoto: I knew it, there was no way they'd have gotten a genuine one so quickly... Those bastards... Well, hopefully our chat can clear things up. Tell me, why'd you do it? How? The more I know, the better I can help you out

Naoto recognizes the boy from his husband's class roster, from his chats about the transfer boy that seemed to affect everyone around him

Naoto: so. Your dad kicked you out?

Haru: yes. Not for being a boy, he accepted that part of me. No, I caught on about some of his shadier business deals. So, he framed me for assault, disowned me. I got lucky, that Mr Yoshida agreed to house me, otherwise I would have probably ended up back in Juvi,

Okay this is getting too long so MORE UNDER THE CUT BUT WHAT DO YALL THINK LEMME KNOW

Okay. More

Shiho with her slight hobble cause of her prosthetic, and when she just *can't* wear it, she's on crutches, Like at the beach

She wears her leg to the beach, but takes it off when Makoto and Morgana egg her into running out to the water with them. Makoto loads her onto their back until they reach the water and then it's just. Splashing and fun

Goro's reading a book while Ryuji lies on a towel in the sun, soaking in the heat. Haru and Futaba are munching on popsicles and watching the others

Two Jokers

Moon is Akira, and Ren was in Shiho's role

They're Futaba's foster brothers. So that's why Futaba really wants to join up. To avenge Ren. And it's why Akira helps out

Futaba: hey, so Ren's awake. He's going to need physical therapy, but he's keeping all his parts. He's, also going to testify. He won't be returning to Shujin,

Akira: he's going to finish at Kosei. It'll be a better fit for him

Makoto, fluid, having more they or he days but still having she days. Masc she days, but still

Coloured bandanas around their upper arm for their different days. Now embracing their baby punk side

And smiling so much more, back home with their sister and able to be themselves with support, and having friends and a sweet boyfriend

Hifumi for the Faith and. Justice Kasumi and Sumire TRSUT ME

Haru: hey!

Makoto, wearing a dark red bandana: hey Loverboy, can I get a kiss?

Haru: course, love. How's my girl today?

Makoto: feeling great, Sis and I are going out tonight. She said you're welcome to join if you want? And then maybe come over after later to "study"?

Haru: how can I say no to you?

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Bonus Track #1

Pairing: Dean W. x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (18+)

AN: The "Bonus Tracks" have arrived! AKA: Sequels to “Never Say Goodbye.”

I have two parts in the wings for you, but let's start with Part 1...

Word Count: 4,500 Tags/Warnings: Angst, supernatural shenanigans, death, cavity-inducing fluff (all to come through Parts 1 & 2)

Bonus Track #1: Disturbing the Peace

Dean walked into the bullpen of the Sioux Falls Police Department with a file in hand.

He went into one of the holding cells, where his latest perp was waiting for him with a salty attitude and an untouched paper cup filled with water.

“Jessie Deluca. Thirteen years old, already with two priors for petty theft,” Dean read off the file.

“Wasn’t me,” the kid said coolly.

Dean flashed Jessie a wry smile and sat across from him at the table.

“Sticking gum in the camera lens is creative, I’ll admit. But the nice old man who owns the 7-Eleven recognized your jacket,” Dean said, gesturing at the kid’s dark red hoodie. “Maybe next time don’t dress like a fire hydrant.”

“Plenty of people could have this jacket. Not like it’s Prada or anything,” said Jessie. He was stubborn, crossing his arms in the way only punk-ass kids could accomplish. “Besides, you’re not allowed to question me without my mom here, dipshit. I’m guessing you’ve been a cop for all of what, five minutes?” 

Dean’s expression flattened into a more wan smile. “Oh, your mom’s on the way. We’re just chattin’.”

“Well I don’t feel like talking to a dumbass plebe,” Jessie quipped, with all due snark.

“All right, kid, listen the hell up,” Dean said more sharply. His gaze tightened with sternness. He glanced behind him, where he suspected your father Jack was watching. Dean was often partnered up with Jody, but she was out sick today. Which meant he had “the hawk” watching his every move.  

Dean leveled the kid with a look.

“Fact is, you’ve got three strikes here, Jessie,” he said. “Now, you were dumb enough to go in with a gun. And we will find where you stashed it.”

Jessie snorted in response.

“…But you’re lucky,” Dean said. “No one got hurt this time. Problem is, at the rate we’re going here, you’re not gonna make it to next time.”

Jessie seemed to pause at that. But after a moment of indecision, he leaned forward on his crossed arms on the table.

“What part of ‘you can’t talk to me’s not getting through your thick head, Hasselhoff?”

Dean frowned, but before he could lose his temper, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked down and realized you were texting him.

Hey, sorry I’m going to be late tonight, you said.

Dean raised a finger at the kid. “I’ll be back.”

Jessie gave him a whatever look. Dean waited until his back was turned to roll his eyes. He exited the holding cell and found Jack on the other side.

“Kid’s a piece of work,” Dean said.

“Remind you of anybody?” Jack asked slyly.

Dean scoffed. “Maybe. I’ll be back, but let me know if his mom shows up.”

Jack nodded, and it gave Dean leave to get back to his desk and call you back. It took you so long to answer that he thought you almost wouldn’t.

“Hey, baby,” you greeted. It brought a small smile to his face.

“Hey. How’s work goin’?”

“It’s ridiculous. Jerry wants fifty new books logged and shelved by the end of the day. And we’re getting a new shipment in tomorrow,” you replied. “…Well, they’re not new. They’re ancient. Transferred from a museum that closed in Boise. But you get the idea.”

Dean’s smile threatened to grow, but it faded when he remembered why he needed to check in on you.

“Is that why you’re getting in late again tonight?” he asked.

“No, I promised I’d help Jason with his applications for grad school,” you said, making Dean frown.

“Who the hell is Jason?”

“Remember? Mrs. Jenkins’ grandson?”

Dean’s frown deepened. “No, that guy? Come on. You already helped him with, uh, cleaning out his grandma’s apartment, right?”

“Yeah, because she died, Dean.”

“Then it was cleaning out his apartment.”

“So he could move into her apartment,” you pointed out. “That he inherited upon her death.”

“And now you’re gonna go over there and share a screen all night?” Dean didn’t like that thought. Not one bit. “I don’t trust him, babe. He’s shifty.”

“Dean,” you tried patiently. “We practically grew up in the neighborhood together. I’m just helping him out because he’s gone through a rough time.”

Dean quieted. He still wasn’t totally on board, but he didn’t want to sound like a needy bitch either.

“All right, whatever,” he said.

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me,” you cajoled. “I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Right.” Perhaps he was a bit grumpy, but he felt justified. Due to both of your schedules, he hadn’t even shared a meal with you all week.

“Okay, I have to get back to work. Bye!” you said, hanging up shortly after. Dean didn’t have a chance to reply.

He sighed, pocketing his cell.

He returned to Jessie, where he noticed the water cup was now drained.

“Having fun?” he asked the kid.

“About as fun as you look right now. What, fight with your girlfriend?” Jessie sassed.

Dean gave him a flat look.

Jessie smirked. “Ah, definitely a fight.”

Dean sighed. “Wasn’t fight, just…you know what, mind your business.”

He discreetly checked his phone again, seeing if you’d sent him any other messages. But the kid had sharp eyes. He peered over the table at Dean’s background.

It was one he’d taken on his first date with you. Really, he’d surprised you with the picture when you two got to the restaurant.

You were trying to fix your hair after the wind had mussed it up. But at the angle he took it, you looked equal parts adorably confused, playfully amused, and sexy in your black suede dress and wind-swept hair. 

“She’s hot,” Jessie nodded.

“Shut up,” Dean said, locking and pocketing his phone. “What’re you, like twelve? And still stealing Twix at the gas station? Do better, dude.”

“Too hot for you, even,” the kid continued, as if Dean hadn’t spoken. “Probably downloading another guy’s hard drive, if you know what I mean.”

“All right, smartass. That’s enough,” Dean said, with a more irritated frown.

That was when Jack came into the holding cell, escorting a woman inside.

“Jessie’s mother, Ms. Sandy Deluca,” Jack said.

“Just Sandy, please. You don’t have to remind me about the deadbeat I married,” she said, giving Dean a cursory (but appreciative) once-over. He gave her a thin smile.

He had to assume she was in her forties, but she also looked rough, and smelled like the crusty bowels of a bar.

“And you. What the fuck’re you doin’, huh?” Sandy bat her son across the back of her son’s head. Jessie flinched and withdrew inside, more like the child he actually was.

Dean noted all of this, sharing a subtle frown with Jack. Both men sat down across from mother and son and explained that Jessie was suspected of robbing a 7-Eleven at gun point. The owner saw him take off. And at some point, before Dean caught him, the kid managed to toss his gun.

“It’s only a matter of time before we find it. And if the prints match, that’s it,” Jack said. “Jessie gets booked for a felony charge.”

“He ain’t did it though. You don’t even have him on tape,” Sandy said. “All you got is one senile old man.”

She had a point, but not one Jack or Dean were willing to concede.

“If he admits what he did, we can work with him,” said Jack. “Maybe the felony charge gets dropped down to petty theft, and he probably only does a short stint in juvenile detention.” 

Dean stared at Jessie, his thin, boyish face, his sandy brown hair, and shuttered eyes. And maybe Dean saw a bit too much of himself.

He tapped Jack’s elbow beneath the table, earning the man’s attention.

“Well, we’ll let you think on it for a few minutes,” Jack said. He got up along with Dean and headed outside the cell. They were able to look in through the one-way window.

“What’s the matter, Dean?” Jack asked.

“We can’t hold him. Not for long, unless the gun shows up,” Dean pointed out. “He stole, what, thirty bucks in bread, cans of tuna, three Twix bars? He’s a punk, but he’s not a killer. He’s just hungry.”

Jack considered this with a sigh through his nose.

“Yeah. But it’s his third strike on theft. This time he took a piece. Armed robbery, even for a kid…that’s gonna require jail time,” he said.

“Okay, how about this. Why don’t we let him go for now, hook him again when we find the gun?” Dean suggested.

“And maybe we don’t look too hard for it. That what you’re trying to tell me?” Jack asked.

Dean just held the other man’s gaze, leaving the decision up to him. But Jack had come to know his future son-in-law too well for that.

He sighed again. “All right, we’ll let him go. For now. But this is his last chance.”

Dean called his brother on the way home from work, tired, but ultimately in a better mood than he had been after talking to you.

“Hey, Dean.”

“Hey, Sammy. How’s the Big Apple?”

“Musty,” Sam said with a chuckle. “But good. Eileen and I are headed to a Broadway show tonight, to celebrate the end of semester.”

Dean smiled at that. Trust Sam to find his soulmate in a subway station. And trust the universe to land his brother with another hunter.

Or a huntress, as Dean had teased him. A banshee had killed her parents when she was a baby, and had rendered her deaf in the process. A hunter had raised her, and Eileen had continued the family business into adulthood, all the while looking for the creature that had killed her parents.

When she met Sam, however, he of course wanted to help her. He even took a week off school once they tracked the banshee to Lebanon, and helped her kill the thing himself. Now though, Sam had been subtly trying to convince her to retire from the hunting life. To build a life with him.

But, as always with hunters, Eileen seemed wary of fully committing to leave the life she’d always known.

Dean could understand that.

“That’s right! My smart-ass brother got all A’s in lawyer school,” he said. “I should get one of those bumper stickers.”

Sam scoffed. “Right, like you’d tape up the Impala like that.”

Dean grinned. “Anyway, end of semester, huh? That mean you’re coming back home soon?”

“Not this weekend, but the week after. Just in time to help you guys prep for the wedding,” said Sam. “It’s like, what, three weeks out?”

“And counting,” Dean replied. He couldn’t believe it was getting this close either.

“Eileen and I’ll stay with Bobby though. We don’t want to crowd your apartment,” Sam said. “How’s everything going, by the way? How is she?”

Dean huffed. “She’s probably just fine.”

“Probably?” Sam noted. “What’s going on?”

Dean was reluctant to talk about it, but his brother knew him too well to just let it go. He prodded until Dean had no choice but to spill it.

“The wedding’s just got her all over the place. Plus her job’s got her working evening shifts half the week sometimes,” Dean said. “And when she’s not doing that, she’s volunteering herself all over the damn neighborhood…”

Dean chuckled dryly then, realizing how much he sounded like a needy chick right now.

“I don’t know,” he said. “God, I sound like a freakin’ sap.”

“No. It sounds like you miss her,” Sam said.

“Hmm,” Dean nodded. He popped a frozen dinner into the microwave and watched it spin. “Yeah, probably.”

A lot, a voice in his mind corrected. He knew he didn’t have to say it for Sam to get the picture.

“Just tell her how you feel, man,” Sam said. “You know for a fact that there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you.”

Sharing and caring had never been Dean’s strong suit, by any means, but he knew his brother might have a point this time.

So he waited up for you. For hours.

He started to fall asleep on the couch before he realized what time it was, creeping past midnight. He texted you, called you. It all went unanswered. Dean started worrying long before then, but he tried not to let his mind jump to conclusions.

He cleaned the kitchen and waited. He tried watching the next couple of episodes in season three of Game of Thrones, your favorite show, but couldn’t concentrate on the storylines. He usually had you to explain the complicated plot points and remind him of who’s who. 

So he switched over to Dr. Sexy M.D., which you’d tried not to judge him for. 

But finally, around 1:00 a.m. on a weekday, Dean felt your presence before you pull into the driveway. He was sitting on the couch, and he crossed his arms when you walked in. 

Still, you gave a tired smile when you saw him. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” he responded, but you knew immediately that he was off. You saw the tight look on his face, his tense demeanor. You even caught a glimpse of his emotions before he cut you off…which in itself was a tell that he wasn’t in a good mood.

You frowned and set your purse and work bag next to him on the couch. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked. Dean raised both brows at you, as if he was annoyed that you had to ask. It wasn’t like you could read his mind. 

Well, you could, if he hadn’t closed himself off.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked. 

Your brows knitted at his tone. 

“You know where I was,” you said. “I was helping Jason—”

“You’ve been with that guy at his house all night?”

You tried to give him a patient look, but you were bone tired. And you hadn’t expected to get the third degree from the minute you stepped through the door.

“Dean, I told you. We were working on his applications to grad school, mostly on his entrance essays.”

“And that really took all night, with no breaks?” he asked. Now with a more suspicious brow raise.

“Of course,” you replied, crossing your arms. “I mean, we stopped to eat dinner.”

But then you raised a finger as something occurred to you.

“And oh! He showed me his new motorcycle,” you said, with excitement that he didn’t share. “Dean, you’d freakin’ love it. I can’t remember what model he said it was, but I told him, ‘My fiancée’s a major gear head. He’d love to get a motorcycle.’ But I’d literally die if you made me get on one of those things—”

“So, correct me if I’m wrong,” Dean said, interrupting you as he got up from the couch to stand across from you.

“You spent all night at some guy’s house. You had dinner with him, and he tried to impress you with his new goddamn motorcycle?”

You considered what he was suggesting, and you had to suppress a grimace. Yeah, it did sound bad, but it really wasn’t.

“It wasn’t like that at all, Dean,” you said. “Jason’s just…he’s feeling a bit lost. He wants to continue school, but he’s not sure if he can do it. His grandma practically raised him, and it’s a whole thing—”

“That’s not your damn problem!” Dean said, raising his voice. “You realize that, right?”

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a frown.

“Okay, you need to take that way down,” you warned him.

Dean took a beat, briefly closing his eyes as he reigned himself in.

“I’m sorry, all right,” he said. And he drew a hand over his tired face. “It’s just…lately, for the past few months, it seems like you’re never here. We’re like ships passing in the night. And if I didn’t check in, I’d never fucking hear from you.”

You sighed, staring back at your fiancée with both hot guilt and a prickle of resentment.

“So, do you like how it feels?” you asked.

Dean sharpened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying, welcome to my world, Dean,” you said. “I lived that existence for the first two years of our relationship.”

He couldn’t exactly refute that, but it still hurt to be reminded of what he put you through.

“What, are you doing this on purpose or something?” he asked. “You’re punishing me. Is that it?”

You relented then, reaching for his arm.

“Of course not, Dean,” you said. “I just find it ironic that you can’t handle just a taste of what I went through.”

Dean’s lips pursed.

“Until I finish training our new hires, there isn’t much I can do about what my job demands of me,” you said. “But if you want to help me, how about everything I’m doing to plan this wedding? It’s literally a month away, and there’s plenty to do. I feel like I’m going insane with these vendors calling me 24/7, mostly demanding money.”

You covered your face with your hands for a moment, shaking your head.

“Tomorrow I have my final fitting for the dress, after work,” you said. “This weekend I have to finalize the seating chart, make the final deposit on the venue, and a shit-ton of other things.”

“Okay, well I can help with that,” Dean said, trying to take your hand. “All you need to do is ask.”

You gave him a peeved look.

“You see, I would. But the last time I tried, you said you were working late,” you said. “I called my dad to see where you were. Come to find out, you’d left early.”

Shit, Dean thought. 

“When was that?” he asked.

“Last week, Thursday,” you jogged his memory. 

Shit, he thought again. 

What you didn’t know was that he left early that day to pick up your wedding ring, which he’d had customized for you. But he couldn’t tell you that without giving away the surprise.

“Listen, there’s an explanation for that.”

“Well right now, I don’t feel like hearing it,” you said. You slipped your hand out of his and left him to beeline for the shower.

Dean watched you go, silently simmering. Was this what he had to look forward to when you two actually got married?

You and Dean didn’t even look at one another as you got ready for bed in silence.

You were annoyed that he didn’t trust you. A bit resentful that he chose now to complain about you being busy, when you’d tried so many times to get him to help you with the wedding planning process.

But at the same time, as you two climbed into bed without uttering so much as a word, it felt like you won the battle, but lost the war.

And you didn’t feel any better when you woke up the next morning.

Because when you saw the empty side of the bed next to you, but didn’t hear Dean puttering around the apartment, you realized that he’d left for work without saying goodbye.

He usually greeted you with a kiss on the cheek or the forehead; the best alarm you’d ever had. But today, you were forced to wake with your alarm. So you turned it off on your phone and dutifully got up to get ready for work.

Your mind was buzzing with too much coffee on the drive over to the museum, and when you arrived, your phone sounded off in your purse. You checked it and found a text from Jason Jenkins.

Hey, thanks for coming over to help yesterday, he said. I think I’ll actually get into grad school now. These essays are top notch thanks to you.

Your lips quirked with a smile. You replied as you walked into the museum, waving hello to your boss, Jerry, as you went.

You’re welcome! you replied. Dean’s words from last night replayed in your mind, so you decided to keep it brief. But then, Jason replied again.

But I also had a good time last night, he said. You’re just so easy to talk to…would you want to come over for dinner? I make a mean carbonara.

You deflated when you read the text. Goddamn it.

And you knew then that Dean might’ve had a point last night. With a sigh, you raised your gaze to the heavens. You didn’t have enough coffee to deal with this.

But you knew you had to reply.

Look, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression but—

You paused, then deleted that response. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but maybe you could say something that made your boundaries clear without making him feel bad about himself.

Sorry, Jason. I’m staying in with my fiancée tonight. But good luck! I’m sure you’ll get into grad school.

With that message sent, you pocketed your phone and continued to your desk in the museum library. It was surrounded by tall shelves of books from all over the world, and you often enjoyed perusing through them when you had down time (not that you had much of that these days).

Jerry came in, wheeling a large shipment of boxes. You gave him a wan smile at the sight.

“Delivery,” he said. “Need these books logged and shelved, please. By end of the day, if you can. Oh, and tell Charlotte we need more toner for the copy machine.”

You playfully saluted your boss. “On it.”

“Thanks,” he said. “I know it’s been a lot for the past few months, but you’re doing great, kid.”

You didn’t appreciate the kid remark, but you did thank him graciously. It was nice to be recognized for your work because you did take pride in it. But right now, as you looked at the ten large boxes piled on the dolly, you really wished you could control + alt + delete this day.

Instead, you sighed and opened the first box, pulling out a stack of heavy books. One of them caught your eye, as it was leather-bound, but bordered with gold, and had hieroglyphic images on the cover. The largest of which was a golden sun, encircling a lion’s head.

You weren’t supposed to touch the books without gloves on, but you were so intrigued that you forgot to slip on a pair before you reached for it in wonder.

The moment you touched the cover, however, a burst of energy swirled around the book—and then wrapped around your hand.

You didn’t realize it, but your mind went hazy as amber rings of magic illuminated your pupils.

Dean got home from a long day of work, sighing when he saw that the apartment was empty.

He felt bad for how things got left off between the two of you last night, but frankly, he was surprised (and maybe a little hurt) that you didn’t reach out to him at all today.

Usually when you guys argued, you were the first one to reach out to him after you both had time to cool down. You could be stubborn about things, just like him, but you were also quick to forgive. And that often forced him to confront his honest feelings.

When his phone started ringing, Dean paused in the living room and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Hi, there! Is this Dean?”

“You got me. Who’s this?” he asked. It was the receptionist at the shop where you found your wedding dress. Apparently, you hadn’t shown up for the appointment of your final fitting, and you hadn’t called to reschedule.

“Well, that’s not like her,” Dean said with a frown. You’d never dropped the ball on anything having to do with the wedding. Not once.

“Let me get ahold of her and we’ll get back to you,” he said. The receptionist agreed, and the moment he hung up with her, he called you. It rang for a while, but ultimately went to voicemail.

A tendril of worry started to grow in his mind, but he tried to keep it at bay when he called your boss next.

According to Jerry, you took your lunch break early and never came back.

Dean’s worry became a living thing after that.

But before he could call Jack and mount a full police squad search, the front door of the apartment unlocked, and you walked through the door.

You looked completely fine in your business casual white blouse, pencil skirt, and heels, but you didn’t have your purse, work bag, or any of the usual things you carried.

Dean hung up with your boss and eyed you in disbelief.

“Well, well. I guess you’re playin’ hookie today,” he remarked dryly.

You gave him a cursory glance, but you all but ignored him on your way to the kitchen. Dean’s incredulousness grew, along with a spark of irritation.

He followed you into the kitchen, where you started rifling through the pantry looking for spices and herbs, of all things. You examined a clear parcel of thyme.

“What are you doing, babe?” Dean asked. “Are you tired? Did you just need to take a beat? Because I can understand that…”

You didn’t seem to be hearing him, so he grasped your hand.

“Hey, what the hell’s going on with you?” he asked. Your brows knitted together in annoyance.

“By the gods, what a nuisance.” You slipped your hand out of his and continued what you’re doing. 

Dean felt struck with hurt as he stared at you once again in disbelief.

But then, a spidey sense began to prickle at the back of his neck. This wasn’t like you at all…

You finally seized him up through impassive eyes.

“Pretty,” you remarked, “but the world of men seems to have remained the same. Needy, clawing, and pathetic.”

Dean’s brows furrowed. He called your name uncertainly, but he realized something.

He couldn’t feel you. Not your thoughts, and not even your emotions through the soul bond. It was a gut instinct, but Dean's was rarely wrong.

Whoever was wearing your face, it wasn’t his girl.

You smirked and stepped toward him, drawing near enough to place a hand on his chest. He tensed, knowing that this wasn’t about to end well. 

With a burst of amber-hued magic, you flung him across the room. 

Dean crash-landed against the couch with a yelp and a grunt. He’d definitely be feeling that in his back later. 

He heard the crashing of glass and ceramics hitting the hardwood floor after he fell. When he was able to slowly pick himself up, he saw that he’d shoved the couch into the coffee table, where a vase and a few frames had fallen.

And when he managed to lift his gaze to the rest of his surroundings, he found an empty apartment. The front door was left ajar.

You were gone… 

Or at least, whoever possessed you was.

AN: So first of all, sorry for the cliffhanger lol. But Sam's soulmate is revealed! (I was VERY upset when Sam and Eileen didn't get their reunion when Jack brought back everyone after the "snap.")

Like my top note said, this will be two parts. Let me know what you think of Part 1!

Next Time:

Dean searches for you with Sam, Eileen, and Bobby's help. But there's just a few weeks before the wedding.

What could possibly go wrong?

Keep Reading: Bonus Track #2

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @theonlymaninthesky @spnexploration @itzabbyxx @cevans-winchester @imagineteller1 @icequeen1371 @tiredqueen73 @bitchwitch1981 @abbigaleelizabeth @ohgodthebogisback @where-the-river-bends @loveprof6 @shadowcrowsworld @thespnlover @this-is-me19 @stevenknightmarc @leigh70 @pallographsunspot @syrma-sensei @brain-has-left @jassackles @hobby27 @ashbatz @zaratahir @lokisnumber1whore @saranghaey @jori21 @lillyrob @adoringanakin @agirlwithdemonblood @mimaria420 @nephil-with-a-gun @writethrough @iamsapphine

[dominimoonbeam]

Audio Script - M4A - First Tattoo

I wrote this a while ago and would love to put it out there for audio artist to pick up if they're interested but I'm not really sure how to go about that, so we'll start here! <3

I wrote this M4A but if you want to change any of the pronouns you're of course welcome to.

Please give me credit if you decide to record this script, and a link so I can listen too! And, you know, don't put it behind a paywall. But if you want to pay me to make you your own scripts, you're welcome to contact me. <3 <3

Audio artists be warned, I seem to make a lot of background sound notes. Good luck, brave creators! I believe in your sound magic!

2 voiced characters with no interaction. Second speaker is the main character.

tags: confession of sorts, idiots in love, tattoo shop

First Tattoo

by Domini Moonbeam aka Clover Down

[fade in ambient music, muffled voices, the hum of tattoo machines]

You nervous?

Don’t be! I got this. You’re in good hands.

[paper rustle]

This is a great design. You did this yourself?

No? A friend?

Huh… You know this artwork style looks a lot like—

Yeah. You’re a friend of theirs? Roommates? They don’t usually do work like this unless they’re the one putting down the ink…

Alright. I’m just going to transfer this to tracing paper to put on you. Hang tight for a minute.

[curtain]

[waiting]

[muffled other voice] What the fuck? Who’s using my art?

[curtain thrown back]

[second voice, MC, surprised to see the listener and not some stranger stealing their art] Oh… [relief] Roomie. Shit, I thought someone stole my work… You… Wait…

What the hell are you doing here?

No.

You were going to let that jerk tattoo you?

I’m your fucking roommate! We’ve been best friends forever and you finally want to get a tattoo and you went to them?

No, they’re not bad. That’s not the point!

No, it’s really not.

If anyone was going to tattoo you, it should have been me.

[chair sound, sitting down and scooting closer, voice lower]

You didn’t even tell me you wanted to get a tattoo.

A whim? Yeah right. You don’t do anything on a whim.

[paper sound] This isn’t a small tattoo.

What the hell were you going to say when I saw it?

What do you mean I wouldn’t see it?

Oh. I mean… yeah I guess I don’t usually see that part of you…

Wait! You were going to let that bastard work on your side and hip?

Yes, now they’re a bastard.

Because they were going to have you basically stripped down on their table with their hands all over you and my art… my…

Wait… You were getting my art tattooed on you.

[laughs] So what? Are you joking?

I remember drawing this for you…

Yes, I do. I drew this for your birthday that first year we met, right after I moved in.

I didn’t know it was your birthday until that afternoon, so I just drew you something… [awestruck] You really kept this.

That was years ago.

You were really going to get my work tattooed on you?

[listener getting up]

No, hang on. You don’t need to bolt.

[smiling] And where are you even going? We live together.

[listener sitting back down]

Don’t pout. I can’t believe you were trying to get someone else to tattoo my art on you at my own shop.

[laughs] Yeah, yeah, I did say they were the only good artists in town…

Seriously though, why didn’t you just ask me? You know I would have done it in a heartbeat, right?

Of course, I would! I’ve been dropping hints about tattooing you since we met!

[paper sound] I can draw you something new, if you want. Anything you want.

Why not?

Are you…blushing?

Okay. Obviously, I’m just seeing things then.

…Special? [paper sounds, looking at it again] It’s special to you…

[pause]

Do you want me to do it then?

Yeah, of course, I mean it.

I mean, if you really don’t want me to…then I can send them back in.

[huffs a laugh] Yeah, the bastard… I would let them do my art if that’s what you really want. But I’d rather do it myself.

Because it’s mine. Because you’re… You.

Okay? [smiling] Okay. Great.

[putting on gloves] Show me where you want it.

Don’t get shy now…

[clothing rustling as listener takes off their shirt]

[sighs]

What? Nothing. Which side did you want it on?

[touching skin] Here? Down… Okay, stand up and push your pants down your hips.

Yeah, there. I need to clean the area first.

[spray. wiping. laughs] Yeah, it’s cold. Hang on.

[paper sounds. peeling the paper off] Okay, the stencil is on.

Take a look in the mirror real quick and make sure you like the placement.

Yeah?

Great. [pats the padded table] On your side, facing me.

[listener getting settled]

You’re going to be okay. Deep breaths.

[fiddling with equipment]

Okay, I’m going to start with the outline. This isn’t going to feel great, but you can take it.

That being said…if you need a break just let me know, okay? No shame in tapping out.

…Why are you blushing?

No reason… okay.

[machine hum]

Don’t move.

[starts working. background sounds and machine sounds for a bit]

What?

Oh. No, it’s my day off. I don’t have anyone else waiting or anything.

And don’t think I failed to notice how you plotted to come in when I wasn’t here.

Yes, plotted.

Don’t try to change the subject.

I came in because I still had some boring shit to get done after I skipped out early the other night.

[laughs] Yeah, I guess you could say I cut out for a hot date. I was taking you to that movie you had to see on opening night.

Yeah, that shut you up…

Oh, you wouldn’t call that a date?

What the hell would you call it? I picked you up…

Yes, we do live together. That did make it easier.

I bought you dinner.

Popcorn counts when the bucket is bigger than your head.

[machine and background sound stretch while speaker thinks and works]

So…why this one?

This sketch. Why did you decide to get this tattooed?

[laughs a little, focused on the work] Yeah, I did say people usually get something meaningful to them.

You…wanted it to be permanent?

[working]

You know I’m permanent, right?

Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy you want the tattoo. I’m fucking thrilled to put my art on you, and I would gladly give you a dozen more, but you know you don’t need to have something permanent from me, right?

Yeah… People leave. But I’m not going to leave you.

No. You know I don’t say things I don’t mean.

I’m not going anywhere.

[another stretch of machine sounds and background sounds]

Do you mind if I add some freehand or do you want it exactly like the image?

Yeah?

Cool.

You know this is going to take a couple sessions, right?

[laughs] Yeah, some people could sit for the whole thing at once, but you can only sit still for so long.

No, I know you, you only sit this still when you’re scared or flirting…

[realization] And I know you’re not scared of me…

Hm? I’m not saying anything.

But you did hang on to this drawing for three years.

[getting serious] Roomie…

[surprise when listener starts to move] No, seriously, don’t move.

[another pause while the machine hums/background]

[soft spoken] You have no idea what it means to me to put this on you.

Yeah, I’ve done a lot of tattoos, but this is you.

The idea of my work on your skin? Permanently?

That you wanted me permanently with you…

That’s what you’re saying, right?

[happy sigh] Yeah. Yeah, I want that too.

You know, I’d say we need to work on your communication skills but this kind of works for me… Just, you know, don’t ask other people to do the tattooing, next time?

[laughs] No, you’re right, I’m not usually the jealous type but this is different. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it.

Because.

Because… It’s you.

Now, hold still or I’m going to screw up your first tattoo.

[viridiave]

forced myself into a state where i can actually indulge in 8path for exactly a day and I'll probably fuck back right into the void after this. but hey. hey. if you have octopath 2.

play the update. play the update, it's like god - we were meant to love and fear it

my full notes (live reaction reenactment) on the update under the cut, SPOILERS AHEAD!

NOBLE TEAM

IT'S FUCKING REAL

I STILL CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE IT'S REAL

HHHUH

THEIR SPRITES ARE LOWER RES BUT IT'S NOT STOPPING THEM

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY HAVE COMBO MOVES

WHAT

WHAT IN THE MOTHER OF FUCKING GOD IS THIS

FUCK EVERY POLL YOU'VE EVER SEEN ABOUT THE ORSTERRA CREW VS SOLISTIA CREW AIN'T NOBODY IS FUCKING SAFE

THEY CAN BOOST??????? HELLO???? FUCKING EXCUSE ME?????

god fucking of course Olberic has motherfucking BOLSTER DEFENSE

OPHILIA??? COUNTERS???? ELEMENTAL AND FUCKING PHYSICAL??? SINCE WHEN

OPHILIA AND ALFYN TAG-TEAM FUAOSJAKSAKSKA THEY HAVE MOTHERFUCKIGN COMBO MOVES????

OH MY GOD TRESSA AND OLBERIC TOO

MY ASS IS DEAD IT'S SO DEAD

NO OF COURSE HOLY SHIT OF FUCKING COURSE TRESSA ALSO HAS MOTHERFUCKING HIRED HELP AKJKAS

ophilia's buff rotation is interesting. i can't tell if she's going right-side down or if she's actively prioritizing certain members

WAIT THEY HAVE NEW VOICE LINES

HOLY FUCK????

i NEED to see the battle AI. show me the specs Square Enix I fucking beg you.

ALFYN'S CONCOCTS ARE SO MEAN OH MY GOD

CASTTI CAN DO FIVE AT ONCE BUT IT DOESN'T FUCKING MATTER TO ALFYN

why did i try and face them with Noble Team members too

well okay i guess. i guess we'd just be straight-up dead if i didn't have castti teme and partitio here jesus Hikari's carrying damage

too bad i never use him as DPS

WH

TRESSA

TRESSA NO WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU INCREASE DEFENSE WHEN YOU GET BROKEN

TRESSA WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN YOU'LL BUY MY FUCKING WEAPONS

WHA

WAIT YOU DIDN'T EVEN GIVE ME MONEY FOR IT I HAVE TO BUY IT BACK FROM YOU

Therion was a bad influence on her lmao

AND OLBERIC'S NOT WEAK TO STAVES RIP

WHY IS TRESSA WEAK TO STAVES

my ass is so fucking cooked

WH

THEY HAVE FUCKING JOB CHANGES?????

OH MY GOD SCHOLAR OPHILIA IS CANON

THEY HAVE NEW MOVES I'M DEAD I'M SO FUCKING DEADDDDD

WAIT

HOLD THE FUCKING PHONE

HUNTER ALFYN

I FEEL UNREASONABLY FUCKINGVALIDATED AKSJAKSAKSKAS

oh god what are Tressa and Olberic

hOLD UP ALFYN AND HIS ARROWS WAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT THE HELLLLL

oh.

oh my god.

w. warmaster olberic

wARMASTER OLBERIC IS REAL

….NOOOOOOOO I'M SO FUCKING DEAD WARMASTER OLBERIC IS REAL IT'S OVER IT'S SO OVER I'M DEADDDDD TO HIMMMMM

sidenote: i'm writing all of this after the fact, trying VERY hard to recreate my real-time reactions. and uh. this. this made me get up from my fucking chair and scream into a pillow so loud people thought i was getting anal

I didn't

oh. wait. if. if he's real.

and Tressa's on the field.

there she is. the motherfucker herself.

RUNELORD FUCKING TRESSA

I WAS DEAD BEFORE NOW I'M IN MOTHERFUCKING SUPER HELL. THERE WAS NEVER A CHANCE

NO OH GOD HERE IT COMES TRANSFER FUCKING RUNE

WE'RE PAYING FOR OUR HUBIRS WITH BLOOD AND THE SCREAMS OF THE DAMNED

…WAIT HOLY SHIT ALFYN AND OPHILIA ARE IN THE RED

THERE'S A CHANCE

THERE'S A CHANCEEE

HIKARI'S POPPING THE FUCK OFF

oh my god of course Brand's Blade is a 1 hit KO move

i'm scared. i don't want him to wreak havoc on me i need to keep fucking breaking him -

ALFYN'S DOWN

HE WAS THE MOST DANGEROUS ONE THAT'S GOOD

OPHILIA DOWWWWWNNNNNN

ALRIGHT JUST. TIME FOR THE 2 GOD MODE TRAVELERS I GUESS

god it'd be so mean if i saved Olberic for last. but he put that on himself he has motherfucking Physical Prowess as a passive

oh no Temenos is the only thing that can kill him huh.

OF COURSE HE GOES FOR THE FUCKING MAGE EVERY TIME

WH

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THE RUNES BYPASS SIDESTEP???? THEY'RE ELEMENTAL NOW????

H E L L

OH SHIT TRESSA'S IN THE RED THERE'S A FUCKING CHANCE

TRESSA'S DOWN

alright 4 travelers at full health with sidestep and defense buffs out the ass. we'll be good we'll be good we can weather olberic. thank you Prayer for Plenty

THIS FEELS MEAN I REGRET IT NOW LMAO

THAT DIDN'T KILL HIM

oh no his full buffs

WAIT NO HIRED HELP BEASTLINGS. JUST ONE MORE

FUCK YEEEEE

w

what

wha wha what the fuck wai

w-wait

hu

H H U H

OPHILIA YOU WERE DEAD HOW THE FUCK DID YOU REVIVE EVERYONE WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?????

WAS THAT JUST PHASE 1???

NO

NOOOOO WE'RE SO DEAD

oh wait they're changing back

…oh no. they're more dangerous like this somehow

WAIT

WHAT'S HAPPENING HUH

WHY DID HE CHALLENGE HIKARI WHAT

WAIT WHY IS IT ONLY THEM

HOW LONG DOES THIS FUCKING LAST FOR?????

they're just in a cycle of countering and evading jesus

oh ok that answers tha -

TR

TRESSA

TRESSA WHAT THE F U C K

TRESSA GIVE ME MY FUCKING MONEY BACK WHAT THE FUCK??? WHAT THE FUCK

HIRED HELP BEASTLINGS WAS THE ONLY WAY I COULD BREAK THEM THAT'S SO MEAN

oh my god i'm dead

TRESSA WHAT THE FUCKA SKAJSAKS SHE CALLED OVER THE FUCKING??? ROGUE CREW??? HOW

WHAT

WHY

WAIT

WAIT SHIT I'M JUST DEAD

…i need to lie down

ROGUE TEAM

okay rogue crew what do you have for me

i'm so scared oh my god

GOD

WAIT

THERION YOU SON OF A BITCH GIVE ME BACK MY ITEMS

THEY HAVE INCIDENTAL ATTACK???? FUCK OFFFFF

LINDE'S HERE

…OH FUCK LINDE'S HERE

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN CYRUS CAN LOCK HIS FUCKING WEAKNESSES

god of course he's DPS in this fight. cyrus is just. too much man

of course Cyrus is weak to Swords. and Daggers apparently

WA

WAIT WHAT

PRIMROSE???

FUCKING HELL

WELL OK PRIMROSE SAID HAPPY PRIDE MONTH SHE JUST ALLURED THRONE

O WAIT POG PRIMROSE AND THERION COMBO

SO

OH THERE IT IS CYRUS AND H'AAN COMBO!!!

…WHY ARE THEY BOTH SO BUSTED

did

did Cyrus just. give me a weakness.

what

what the fuck

AY YO WHAT THE FUCK

yeah ok i'm dead.

i'll. i'll try again later i need to see how Noble Team plays out till the end

ALRIGHT WE'RE BACK IN THERE WHAT DO YOU HAVE FOR ME ROGUE CREW

FUCK I FORGOT THIS WAS THE FIGHT WHERE CASTTI'S USELESS

oh my god they're cooking. i feel so unsafe. Therion is even more of a little bitch than usual

ALRIGHT GOD GUESS I'LL FUCK MYSELF WE'RE DEAD IKE 5 MINUTES IN LMAOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I FORGOT H'AANIT HAS FUCKING PATIENCE

you know what Temenos doesn't need. Salt the Wound. why the hell did I put that on him

HOW LONG DOES ALLURE LAST FOR JESUS

oh my god Ochette. Ochette's Beastly Claws are NASTY damage woah. I need to make her do that more often

WELL ALRIGHT CYRUS IF YOU'RE GONNA BE A BITCH LIKE THAT

i wonder if they had to get chris niosi back for this role or if they just. had all these extra voice lines lying around

still not over the sprite quality being so drastically different lmao

hired help Beastlings save me. save me Hired Help Beastlings

O-OH. OH NOOO…

DAMN WHY CAN'T I HAVE THIS MUCH LUCK WITH BEWILDERING GRACE???

sidestep is saving my ass right now

I love that Primrose keeps piling her buffs onto H'aanit Square Enix said happy pride

HUH

MERCHANT THERION IS REAL LMAO

…OH NO DIVINE WIND

HE JUST STOLE OUR FUCKING LICENSES AKSJAS FUCK YOU THERION

AH THERE HE IS AKSJASK SORCEROR CYRUS - WAIT WE WERE ACTUALLY INTIMIDATED BY THIS STEPHEN STRANGE LOOKING TWINK LMAO

UNFORTUNATE

STARSEER PRIMROSE OF COURSEEEEE

AND THERE'S WARRIOR H'AAN JUST TO ROUND IT OUT

GANG'S ALL HERE SQUARE ENIX HAS SPOKEN

i could say i'm surviving but. the reality is that all 11 of my plums are GONE

alright Grail of Life don't fail me now

GOD OF COURSE SHE'D TARGET PARTITIO WHO HAS THE FUCKING DIFFUSE

alright time to stall

AAAAA THERION'S DOWN THANK FUCK

AIGHT SEE YA PRIM

CYRUS DOWN. STAY DOWN.

H'AAN LEFT ALRIGHT COME AND FUCK ME UP PHASE 3

what

what the fuck

i get ophilia and the aelfric thing but what the fuck happened here

NO FUCKING WAY THERION JUST STOLE OUR EX MOVES

GODDAMNIT TEMENOS IS USELESS NOW

GODDAMNIT TEMENOS IS EVEN MORE USELESS NOW AKSJA PRIMROSE STOP TAKING HIM

oh my god what do you mean H'aanit can also Provoke all

LINDE PHYSICAL PURSUIT I'M IN HELL

and Cyrus has. delayed attacks.

…good thing i never lasted long enough to figure out if that thing 1-hit KOs JESUS

[verai-marcel]

Your Hearth Is My Home (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x Female Reader, Part 12 of ?)

Summary, Notes, Tags, & Part 1 are here.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

AO3 Link is here, my dear.

Word Count: 4,401

-------------------

Act I, Chapter 12 - The Grymforge

1479 DR, 13 Years Ago

Coughing up smoke and ash, you pushed yourself up from the ground. Fires were all around you, but they were being contained by magic users running around the area, casting water and ice spells. You blinked away the sleep in your eyes and spat out the remnants of whatever spell had been cast upon you.

A man nearby who was casting water magic at the retreating flames noticed that you had awoken and came up to you. Kneeling down, he handed you a waterskin.

“Are you alright?”

You nodded, and coughed up some more ash. 

The man raised an eyebrow, then his expression turned kind. “My name is Cardin. May I examine you?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. You chugged some of the water. “I��m fine,” you croaked.

He shrugged. “If you say so. We found you under a Feign Death spell, a really strange one. Took us a while to undo it. Whoever cast must have really wanted to keep you hidden.”

Mother…

Your heart clenched, but you held yourself together. There would be time to cry later. “Are there any other survivors?”

The man shook his head. “Not around here.”

You suddenly gasped. Oh shit, the children. “Did you find any children?”

He shook his head again.

You shakily got to your feet, determination coursing through your veins. “I think I know where they are.”

Getting the children to safety was your first priority. After finding them at the end of the cavern pathway, you made sure each of them had been accounted for and taken into custody by the rescue team. Though you felt bad leaving them in the care of others, you knew that they would do better in a stable situation, not wandering around with you, wherever you would go. Although you were only fifteen, your parents had trained you to be independent. Besides, you didn’t want to go to the orphanage with the children. You could work. You could make a living.

But part of you wished you had a bit more time to be a child.

Mother… Father…

You sat down and leaned against the trunk of a dead tree, your mind in a haze as you watched the knights, clerics, and mages running around the ruins of your village, putting out fires and performing the rites of the dead. The emblem of the city of Neverwinter was all over their tabards and flags.

Perhaps I could work in the city?

You saw Cardin walk over to you. He waved as he came closer, sitting beside you against the tree. “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged, shoving down your emotions. “I’ll live.”

He nodded. After a moment, he asked, “Do you have any family outside of the village?”

You shook your head.

“Do you have any skills? You’ll probably need to find a job to make your way.”

You sighed. Almost everyone’s dead, and he’s being practical. But he’s right, I don’t exactly have time to mourn. I can do that later. You searched your mind. What could you do? What skill did you have that few others did? “I can feel others’ emotions,” you replied.

You would later regret saying that.

He looked at you. “How so?”

You reached for his hand and held it. 

confusion…disbelief…tired…

“You don’t believe me. And you’re tired.”

The man scoffed. “That much is obvious just from looking at me.”

pity…sadness…regret…

“You feel pity. You’re sad about something.” You leaned in and looked him in the eye. “You regret something.”

The man blinked. He pulled his hand out of your grasp. “Well. Guess you can feel something.”

“I can also make potions. That might be a more… transferable skill.”

Cardin laughed. “That’s true. Being an empath is a hard sell.” He pulled out a small piece of paper from his satchel and used magic to scribble down an address and a name before handing it to you. “You seem like you got a good head on your shoulders. If you go here, let the guards know you need work as an apothecary and that Cardin Everember sent you. I can get you on a ship from the port in the city if you choose to go.”

You nodded. Nice of this guy to give you a head start on getting your life in order. He patted your shoulder and went back to work, while you stared at the note.

“Waterdeep…”

***

1492 DR, Present Day

In the morning, you got your small traveling pack together along with a separate backpack of goods you wanted to trade. Waving goodbye to Halsin, you set off north with Gale to the Myconid Colony.

You traded with the various denizens of the colony and had a great time speaking with Blurg and Omeluum about the different species of fungi and plants in the Underdark. You had to admit that Omeluum’s appearance startled you at first, but as you spoke more with him, you became comfortable with his presence.

In fact, you were so engrossed in your conversation with them that you had forgotten that Gale was waiting patiently for you. Turning towards him, you saw him staring far away, his head tipped to one side, as if he was listening to something only he could hear.

You waited until he nodded and his gaze focused onto you. “Are you alright?” you asked.

“Yes, I just received a Sending spell from Shadowheart. She said they could use my expertise at the arcane tower southwest of here.”

So he needs to escort me back to the camp. “Okay, let’s head back then.” You turned to Blurg and Omeluum. “Thank you so much for your time, I’ve learned a lot.”

It has been educational, Omeluum said in your mind. 

“Come find us in the Society of Brilliance in Baldur’s Gate, we would enjoy speaking with you again,” Blurg added.

You bowed and left with Gale, who set a rather rapid pace. I wonder if there’s something he’s not telling me.

Returning to camp, he barely made sure that Halsin was nearby before quickly leaving.

Oh, there is DEFINITELY something he isn’t telling me.

You decided that there was nothing that you could do about it now, so you turned to the pile of loot that was sitting on top of the travel chest. Alright, I suppose it’s sorting time.

Time passed, and without the sun, you found it difficult to tell how long the others had been gone. You had cleaned, prepared ingredients for quick cooking when they returned, and sorted all of the gathered loot into sell, keep, and discard. You wondered why they picked up some clearly rubbish items, but you guessed it was because some of them were hoarders and could not be stopped. You glanced at Gale’s tent, which had a few strange items piled in front of the tent flap, and surmised that at least some of the clutter was his fault.

With little else to do, you decided to renew the hot water rune in the water beneath the cliff, and also to explore a bit further along the shore. Walking down the path and around the rocky shoreline, you decided to go a bit further, wondering if there would be a better place to cast the rune. You turned a corner and found a small waterfall, just tall enough for a person to pass under. 

You had a thought. 

Taking off your outer clothes, you stepped into the cool water and circled around the waterfall, your arm in the air, your fingers passing through the water. You hummed the heating cantrip, drawing the lines in the air until it formed the rune. 

Moment of truth. 

You tentatively stepped into the waterfall.

It was hot and just the right amount of pressure. You felt that this rune drained you a bit more than normal, but it was worth it. You stood underneath the hot shower for a little while longer before you finally forced yourself to leave and get out of the water. Drying yourself off with a cantrip and pulling your clothes back on, you made your way back up the cliff and to the campfire. 

You told Halsin about the hot shower, and he gladly partook, leaving you alone with Withers, Scratch, and Owly for a half hour. You played fetch with the animals until he returned, then took your turn in the shower properly. But even that wasn't enough to keep your mind from clouding over with fatigue. 

You felt like a full day cycle had passed, but there was still no sign of the party. You couldn't wait any longer; you were getting too tired. So you prepped their tents, set up the wire trip alarm, and told Halsin that you were going to sleep. 

***

A montage of scenes went by in your dreams, memories half-remembered, emotions doubly felt. 

Serving your lord’s guests at a dinner party. A brush of a hand there, a light touch on a shoulder here. Gathering emotions like flowers for a bouquet, bringing them back to give to your lord. A warm smile. A pat on the head. The feeling of having done good, of being praised, addictive as silkroot.

Nobles, too arrogant for their own good, asking for more than just a dance. Getting too close, up in your face. Dodging hands, hiding from gazes that made you feel like property, like chattel.

Fellow servants and maids, butlers and guards, camaraderie built, then easily broken with a whispered word. Friendships made, friendships faded as people moved on.

Ten years passed. Nine of them in ignorance, one of them with knowledge you would have been happier, and yet more foolish, for not knowing. 

Three more years passed in relative freedom. But the constant urge to look over your shoulder, the constant suspicion of anyone coming by your cottage, was starting to wear you down. Anxiety building, building, but never a release—

***

You felt like you had just barely gotten to sleep before the chime of the alarm bells woke you up. Getting up and heading towards the entrance of the campsite, you saw everyone looking muddied, bloodied, and exhausted.

“Oh gods above, what happened?”

“I want a bath and a long rest,” Astarion muttered.

Everyone else began to mumble and grumble all at once, but you got the gist. They had gone to the arcane tower, retrieved the herbs that Omeluum had asked for the day prior in hopes of getting the tadpole out of their head, but that didn’t work. So they had gone to the beach, defeated the duergar dwarves, and found a boat that took them to the Grymforge. There, they had gone through a lot of trouble to get a drow out of a cave-in so they could get a moonlantern that could push back the shadow curse, only to find it broken and useless.

“But everyone else has practically cleared out of there, so we’re free to wander in and take the elevator up to the Shadow Cursed Lands,” Gale concluded.

“What about the curse?” you asked.

Halsin answered for Gale. “Any kind of light will work, but none of it will be as effective as a moonlantern. And we won’t be able to enter the strongly cursed areas without one.”

“We’ll work it out,” Wyll said with more confidence than you thought he ought to have, given the circumstances. 

You sighed. This journey was getting more dangerous all the time. But you had already pushed yourself this far. You would see this to the end, wherever, or whatever, that may be.

“Well, there is a hot water rune under the waterfall if you wish to shower, and I can make a meal quickly,” you announced to the group as you headed to the campfire. You heard some general mumbles of agreement as they all dispersed to their tents to change and take turns in the shower. 

Setting up the pot and heating the water took hardly any time at all, and you threw in your pre-chopped ingredients and left it to cook while you went around to each tent, collecting their clothes to clean and mend. 

With a pile of clothes & leather armor beside you, you started the tedious process of casting your cleaning and mending cantrips. You had seen the other magic users perform their cantrips in a very different way, with just a few words and some hand gestures, but also requiring some materials, like lodestone or phosphorous moss. But your method had always been purely songs.

You used to avoid using your magic where others could see while you were in Waterdeep, and even now, you tended to hide away in a corner to work, even though everyone here had already seen you and accepted your eclectic form of spells. Old habits, you supposed. You were never one to bring attention to yourself. 

Focused on your work, you got through the pile, folding everything and organizing them into separate stacks to bring back to their respective tents. As you hummed through the last shirt, you realized it was Astarion's shirt, the one you had mended thoroughly all those nights ago. 

You felt a soft smile on your lips, and you immediately bit your lip. Godsdammit. This… this isn’t that kind of feeling. I just care about him as a friend. He just needs a friend. I… I just want to be his friend. Right?

Nodding righteously, as if you had convinced yourself, you finished your work and distributed the stacks of clean & mended clothing back to their rightful owners.

Of course, you ended up saving Astarion’s things for last, laying his pile before his tent flap. You stared at the pile for a little bit too long before turning away.

…and running straight into his chest.

You staggered back a step and rubbed your nose. “How are you so sneaky?” you asked, your voice sounding a bit nasally.

“How are you so bad at situational awareness?” he asked in return.

“I’m not usually,” you countered. I just feel safe with everyone here. 

He raised an eyebrow, but let the subject go as his gaze slid to the pile of freshly cleaned & mended clothes. “Excellent timing,” he said as he moved to pick them up.

“You’re welcome,” you mumbled as you started to walk away, but you noticed his pained grunt and stiff and slow movements as he stood back up.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m sore from all the fighting today. Cure Wounds only does so much.”

“Do you want a massage?” Wait, why did I offer? He wouldn’t want that.

He blinked and looked at you for a moment before he smirked. “Darling, are you being coy?”

Your face heated up at his implication. “What, no! I simply meant a massage for your sore muscles!”

He laughed. “You’re so easy to tease, my dear.” Looking at you with his arms full of his clothes, it almost looked like he was wielding them as a shield. “If you think it’ll help, come in.”

You followed him into his tent. He set his pile of clothes aside and lay on his stomach on top of his bedroll.

“Where is the soreness the worst?”

“Everywhere.”

That didn’t help. You rolled your eyes as you knelt down beside him. Deciding to start from the top and work your way down, you pressed your thumbs into his shoulder muscles and began to massage in circles. 

Gods, he has so many knots. Is this the first time he’s received a massage?

You realized that this probably was, and you felt a bit sad at the thought.

Astarion let out a soft breath and relaxed under your touch. You were grateful that his shirt was separating your bare hands from his skin so you could focus purely on his muscles. Which, quite honestly, was a distraction in of itself. But you concentrated on working out the knots, working down his back until you reached the waistline of his pants. 

He suddenly tensed. It was subtle, but you felt it. 

Quickly pulling your hands back, you debated your next move. His neck and head are bare. I don’t have my gloves, and I’m not sure I can mentally handle him right now if he’s not shielding.

“Are you done?”

“Do you want me to be? Otherwise, I could get your neck and head, if you want.” Why did I just offer the very thing I was wary of? I'm an idiot. 

He was silent for a moment. “Sure.”

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself for whatever emotion you might feel from touching his bare skin. The neck was a particularly sensitive place, and though your mother had taught you how to put up mental shields against others’ emotions, you were never good at it. I wish I had listened to her more when she was training me.

You scooted over to kneel at the head of his bedroll and leaned over him, putting your palms on either side of his neck. He feels content, although he seems muted, so I guess this is fine. You gently pressed forward, going down along his shoulders slightly before coming back up, your fingers stroking his neck muscles. 

He groaned.

You immediately stopped, lifting your hands away. “Did I hurt you?”

“Keep going,” he said in a muffled voice, sounding annoyed that you had stopped.

You continued, doing the same thing as before a few more times before you started to use your thumbs on the muscles between his neck and shoulders, near his spine, gently rubbing circles, gradually moving up his neck. Eventually you switched to using your knuckles, running them up and down his neck.

“More,” he mumbled.

With your fingertips, you found the base of his skull, feeling for the little spaces and massaging small circles, around and around.

He moaned, and this time, you definitely didn’t mistake it for pain, since you could sense his pleasure.

You ran your hands through his hair, massaging his scalp until your knuckles cracked. 

“Alright, I need to stop, my hands are getting sore.” How long have I been in here? I’m losing all sense of time in the Underdark.

Astarion sat up slowly and pouted at you. “So soon, my dear?”

“Yes, yes.” You rotated your wrists and wriggled your fingers, hearing your joints crack. “I need to go sleep, it’s been a long day. Are you taking first or second watch?”

“Second. Karlach is taking first.”

“Alright. Can you wake me when you’re done so I can start breakfast?”

“Of course.”

You smiled. “Thanks.” You started to lean forward, intending to wish him sweet dreams like you always did.

He pulled back.

Oh.

You just smiled to cover your surprise. “Well, have a good night,” you said quickly as you got up and left his tent, resisting the urge to run. You forced yourself to walk at a normal pace to your bedroll, managing not to panic. But the cracks around your heart were starting to make themselves known.

Of course. I shouldn’t have pushed. I should have let him come to me. I… I shouldn’t have expected anything.

It took a long while to fall asleep as regret ate at your thoughts, like crows at a carcass.

***

As soon as everyone was rested and camp was packed up and ready to go, you and your companions set off to Grymforge, taking the boat from the shoreline through the waterways of the Underdark, traversing through the now empty fortress, picking your way past all of the rocks and ruined walls to get to the elevator that would take you to the Shadow Cursed Lands. Halsin told you a bit about its history, and that to lift the curse, he would need to save Thaniel, the spirit of the land. He suspected that the spirit was trapped in the Shadowfell.

Wyll and Karlach were quick to agree to save the boy. Gale and Shadowheart seemed ambivalent, while Lae’zel and Astarion were downright irritated by the decision.

Meanwhile, the seal on your back tingled. You concentrated on it and thought of saving Thaniel, and it tingled more. You thought of not saving him, and the tingles went away.

I can’t believe that works. Hm. This may be a way to help decide what to do, as oblique as it may be.

“Don’t you think we should save him?” Karlach asked you suddenly. 

Dammit, I was trying to stay out of the conversation.

“It may be the right way forward,” you said slowly.

“And why is that?” Astarion said with some disdain.

“...Just a hunch.”

He blinked and looked at you. He subtly pointed at the small of his own back, a signal that no one else saw. 

You nodded imperceptibly back at him.

Astarion just shrugged. “Well, I guess it just means more enemies to kill along the way.”

By the time you all reached the elevator and headed up, you were starting to feel exhausted. Schlepping all the backpacks and gear while navigating all the difficult terrain was more tiring than usual.

As your group stepped out of the elevator and fanned out into the space to check for traps or enemies, you saw an old man appear nearby.

“Um…”

Gale looked at where you were pointing. “Elminster?”

***

Your head was whirling from the conversation between Gale and Elminster. The consequences. And the fact that he was willing to sacrifice himself so easily… You glanced over at Shadowheart, who looked more pained than usual. And you had the feeling it wasn’t due to the eternal injury on her hand.

I’ve been watching those two get closer…

You didn’t want to pry, and you had no concrete evidence, but if your guess was right, you figured those two would sort themselves out sooner or later.

After that set of news, the group decided to hole up here for the night before setting out once more. The shadow curse was just beyond the doorway, and this was likely the last night of relative safety before heading into unknown territory. Setting up camp quickly, you sat at the campfire alone while the others did their own thing. The sounds of the scraping of your spoon along the pot were accompanied by the clanging of swords where Wyll and Karlach practiced. Lae’zel, Halsin, and Shadowheart were meditating quietly, while Astarion and Gale were poring over their books.

Staring at the pot and wishing it would hurry up and boil, you hummed a song. Tongues of flame and wisps of water vapor, heating faster, bubbling and boiling…

In what felt like no time at all, your rather large pot of stew was letting out tendrils of steam. You looked at the stew more closely. It looked ready. It smelled ready. 

After a few moments of trying to figure out how in the hells you had sped up the cooking, you realized that Gale had come up to the campfire and was staring at you suspiciously.

“Wha-what?”

“Do you know what you cast?”

“No, I was just… mumbling… a song… why do you look so confused?”

He pointed at the pot. “Your stew looks ready, and it’s only been a couple of minutes.”

“Oh, well, you wizards”—you gestured at Gale—“conjure things up all the time. Surely speeding up cooking isn’t that out of the ordinary.”

Gale furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s true. Well, I for one, am quite hungry. Let’s eat.”

Supper went by as normal, but you could catch Gale’s occasional curious glance in your direction.

Don’t look at me. I don’t know what in the hells I did either.

***

After cleaning up and packing up as much as possible to be ready to leave early tomorrow, everyone had gone to sleep. Usually whoever was taking watch would patrol the perimeter of camp, checking for enemies. But in this small foyer, there was hardly a need. So Astarion sat at the campfire, staring across at the occupied bedroll where the little hearth witch slept.

He spent some time ruminating on his previous interactions with her and discovered that he actually enjoyed spending time with her. From the first time he had teased her, to when she had tipped her head, exposing her lovely neck, to letting her touch his hair. He closed his eyes and remembered her soft caress. It was completely unlike what he had experienced with all those… targets… in the past. No, she was… different.

His impression of her had grown from mild irritation, to indifference, to amusement, and now to… whatever this was. 

Whatever it is, it’s certainly novel.

But it was interfering with his plan.

I thought she’d be easy to seduce. But she’s dodged me at every turn.

He had tried flirting with Gale, but he seemed too dense to recognize it as such. He had started to sweet talk Shadowheart, but she was as prickly as a cactus. Besides, he had caught the way she and Gale looked at each other. He could recognize a losing battle from a mile away. Lae’zel would probably slice his head off if he tried anything more than a smile, seducing Wyll might have worked if his righteousness hadn’t irritated him right off the bat, and Karlach brushed off any attempts like water off a duck’s back. Halsin seemed distracted; it would be hard to keep the druid’s attention on him long enough to tempt him.

So it has to be her.

But she had thwarted his every attempt to lure her into his bed. Surely, she wasn’t that pure. She knew what he offered. He wasn’t so out of practice, was he? But there was a connection; of that, there was no doubt. He’d seen the craving in her eyes whenever he touched her. As if she wanted more, but didn’t want to admit it.

So he was determined to seduce her, using whatever means necessary. Anything to get her to fall for him. All he had to do was keep her favor, and he’d be safe. She wasn’t a fighter, but the others cared for her, more than they did for him. She had already defended him once and they had listened. 

So why in the hells did I pull away from her last night?

Deep down, he knew the answer. He just didn’t want to admit it.

------------------------

Act I, Chapter 12 End notes: Yup, I broke viewpoints again and added a small snippet of Astarion at the end. I thought it might help to get a sense of where he’s at, emotionally, in relation to Hearth Witch. Hopefully he came across as genuine, but let me know in the comments what you think! We’re off to Act 2 after this, and I’ll admit, there will probably be less chapters, since I actually sped through this part of the game.

Tag List: @numblytemporary @xalphafox @avitute

[ameliawarnerr]

The Bet (2)

Jake x MC

Read part 1 here.

I stare down at the drink in my hand, standing by the little bar setup Dan had whined for. I watch the cake as I spin the liquid in the glass around. Cleo has done an exceptional job at baking the cake for Hannah and Thomas' wedding. Each one of us volunteered to take care of at least one thing. I look around at the forest theme in which everything is arranged in. It all screams MC.

Everyone has arranged a thing or two but I haven't. My part begins at midnight.

Jessica walks over to me. She places her palms on the counter. “One vodka.” she says to the bartender, who stares a little too long at her. She doesn't seem to notice it as she turns around facing me. “Why are you drinking? It hasn't even started yet.”

Guests haven't arrived yet. Only close family and friends are here, running a final check over everything. “I’d tell you my reason if you tell me yours.” I offer.

She sighs, audibly. “I gave a list to the DJ. It has all our favourites. And guess what? He lost it.”

“You don't remember the list?”

“Not precisely. I have a photo of it on my phone. I’ve sent Dan to pick it for me.”

The bartender offers her a glass of vodka. “Thank you,” she says. This time she notices his gaze which has turned creepy. “What are you staring at?”

He doesn't falter. “Am I staring?”

“Yes, you are.” She says, accusingly.

“Why, you think you are not worth staring at or what?” He laughs a little, looks at me. He expects me to laugh at his stupid joke.

I glare at him and so does Jessica. He looks away from both of us. “Why don't you vanish and send some other guy here for the night,” I look down at his name tag, “Joshua?”

His head snaps at me. “What? Oh come on, so you didn't like the joke, big deal.”

“That joke just described you.” I was leaning sideways on the counter but I turned to face him as I saw Dan coming out of the house. “You know what would be a big deal? That guy,” I point at Dan, “Beating you till you are bruised like your jokes.”

He glances between Dan and me. “Fine.” He leaves with an exasperated look.

Jessica faces me. “Thank you, I seriously did not have energy for that now.”

“Thank Dan.” I say before taking a sip from my glass.

She glances at him. “I know. It's so fun to scare people with his built when we know he's all talk.” She averts her eyes. “So what caused you to drink?”

The realisation that I am going to have a tough night and I need to warm up for that. I open my mouth to answer but it closes again at the sight of MC walking down the stairs. I haven't seen her for one and a half hours after we made that bet. I thought she only wanted to punish me by not coming down with me or coming down here at all.

But now I see where all that time has been spent. Her hair and makeup are almost the same as before, but she has completely transferred her dress. It's the same dress but cut low, the hem grazing her thighs, and it fits better than it did before. She intends to defeat me and I think she just might. I don't know how I am supposed to look at other girls when she’s walking around.

Jessica follows my gaze. “Oh, I see. Love quarrels.” She comments.

“No. Not really. We have a bet going on.”

I hear Jessica saying, “What bet?” as I am walking over to MC.

“Later.” I say back.

I dig out my phone as I walk towards her. My head is turned low, towards the screen. I intend to walk past her. If this bet has given rise to another game of ignoring each other, then I am not going to lose. I see her feet mere inches away from mine but I don't look at her.

She takes a step in front of me, placing a palm to my chest.

“Sorry, didn't see you there.” I say.

She tilts her neck. “Oh? Then, care to explain why Jessy is looking at us as if we are going to tear each other's clothes off.”

“Are we?” I tilt my neck.

“Not yet. And maybe not at all if you lose.”

“Oh so the stakes are decided now.”

“They are, Donfort. Scared?”

I wrap my hand on her wrist, removing her hand from my chest as it was too close to my heart and she'll notice the crazy rate it was beating at. I lean it towards her ear. “But isn't it so unfair? Because if I win, you’re not losing anything.”

“Alright. If you win, your words are my command.”

Strenuous night this will be.

[ateriblewriter]

Not on the prompt list, but could you write about baking with Boldy and it being a complete mess? Like there is flour all over the both of you, there is batter splattered around the kitchen, and you two are just laughing the whole time.

neither you nor matt were bakers by any means, but when you saw a recipe for twix cookies on tiktok you knew you had to get matt to make them with you.

"next step. add the floor and baking powder. mix throughly." you scrunch your nose trying to read the print on your phone.

matt did as you instructed, using a big spoon to transfer the dry ingredients into the bowl that contained the wet ones and then turning on the mixer.

he must not have been paying attention or maybe he just didn't know but he put the electric mixer on a high level because, flour along with bits of dough flew everywhere.

"you think that's funny?" matt was quick to turn off the device.

"it's hilarious babe" you tried to cover your laughter, failing miserably. but that was okay since matt was laughing as well.

he had to admit it was pretty silly. but you know what was even funnier? when the hockey player took an egg and cracked it over your head, covering you in egg goop.

"hey! we need those." you still continue to giggle. you tried to resist the urge to get him back with another egg or throw a glob of cookie dough at him but ended up giving in.

taking a small glob of the gooey cookie dough, you fling it in his direction. he totally saw it coming but was not able to move out of the way in time and hit him.

in retaliation, matt tried the same action, but getting a different result as the dough sailed past your head. laughing and having fun the little food fight continued until there was about half the amount of dough left than what you had started with.

"y/n how many of these things do you think i can fit in my mouth?" matt was unwrapping all the little kraft baking caramels while you finished with the cookie part of the cookies.

shaking your head at your man, you gave him a wild guess of ten pieces of candy. proving you wrong, matt was able to shovel sixteen on the square caramels in mouth.

after waiting for what seemed like forever for the cookies to be fully assembled it was time to taste test them. and oh my god where these things delicious. not quite like the popular candy bar, but close enough.

"damn these are good. we should make 'em again." you snag another cookie from the baking sheet.

"or we could find another one to make." matt suggested.

"you really want to do this again?" a smile broke out of your face once again.

"of course! babe this was so much fun. i want to do this again." matt returned the smile, stealing the rest of the cookie that was in your hand.

tags: @snugglebug-92