#this occurred to me while i was making food and the urge to leave the stove alone to look at the bandcamp lyrics was Strong

[wren-of-the-woods]

I was singing along to Fair today and I noticed something fascinating: it's possible that there are three characters in the song: "I," "he," and "she."

Most of the first-person material in the song is in the form of quotations (e.g. and he'll say "it's not fair how much I love you"). We certainly have two characters, "he" and "she", who speak to each other throughout the song.

At the beginning and the end, however, something different might be going on. The song opens with a few verses in first person with no reference to "he" or "she" (It's what my heart just yearns to say...the reason I was born). Because Joey Batey is singing, it's easy to assume that this is "he" narrating. That may be the intention. It's interesting, though, that directly after this it switches to third person: Cos outwardly he says I try so hard to make you laugh at me / And she, she does, she laughs...

A similar thing happens at the end, starting with "how unfair they'll sing." This verse is narrated by an outside perspective: something looking in on the couple from outside. Fascinatingly, the chorus that comes after this is the only one that does not begin with a dialogue tag, simply saying "it's not fair." It's almost like that first line is a moment of the narrator's perspective before it switches back to dialogue between the characters.

Is this narrator a different person, perhaps a friend of the couple? Is it the world? Is it destiny? Is it the stars that hum and hear them? Regardless, they seem to be just as in love with the story and the people as the couple are with each other, and I think that's beautiful.

TLDR: The narrator in Fair may be a seperate entity from the characters within the song, but they are just as in love with the story as the characters are with each other.

[weministertomonsters]

Naga Father (Araza) x gender neutral reader - 3

@rivalriotrenegade @viviansnowmain Update! <3

The party is underway, and you couldn't be more grateful that it's going so smoothly. You and Sam made the invitations together, and he had chosen to invite three kids from his class that he got along with. They were triplets. You had babysat them a couple of times and while they were always a handful, they were the sweetest children you'd ever met.

All three of them attended and they brought presents. They're now playing outside, taking turns burying each other in the sandbox and demolishing the garden as they toss the sand everywhere. You put a lot of thought into the games for the party, but they are having so much fun with their self-devised game that you don't mind. Mr. Araza peers outside, looking amused.

"Human children are not so different," he muses. "Every day I see more and more similarities."

"Well, I'm glad," you reply.

You mean it. In the weeks that you've known him, he has become less guarded. You've even seen him greet the neighbors sometimes as he goes off to work. He's not as harsh with Sam and it causes the dear boy to flourish. Looks like there are improvements all around.

You're taking the cake out of the fridge when you notice something. Mr. Araza has gotten relaxed around you to the point that he leaves his tail to sprawl. Miraculously you haven't stepped or tripped on it yet. Today it looks less glossy than usual. You feel like you need to point that out.

"Oh," he says, clicking his claws on the counter and looking at his tail. "Yes, I'm about to begin shedding."

"I've never seen that before," you respond.

"Because my kind is almost always on suppressants. I haven't been taking mine for a while."

"Might I ask why?" You question as you poke the candles into the cake.

"They can cause damage with continuous use. Short breaks are recommended," he responds.

A lightbulb goes off in your head and you whip your head around to look at him.

"Doesn't that mean you go through a heat cycle as well?"

Stupid, stupid, the small voice in your head chants, but you can't take it back.

Mr. Araza gifts you with a rare smile.

"Someone has been looking things up."

"Uh... I was just curious. Just trying to understand your kind better," you stammer.

"You don't have to use the internet for that," he says. "You can just ask me."

"Really? That's..." You blank out as you search for a lighter for the candles.

"Ask me again," Mr. Araza says, the tip of his tail winding and curling, doing its own thing.

You decide to suck it up and just be forward with it, so you repeat your question.

"Do you go through a heat cycle when you're off the suppressants?"

"If by that you mean a fire racing through my veins along with the urge to mate with any soft thing in my territory, then yes," he says with a soft chuckle. "Most definitely."

You almost drop the cake as your heart jolts in surprise. Did he just say that? You had been asking out of curiosity, not with an ulterior motive.

"Sir," you say sternly.

"Apologies," he chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You're shaking your head when another thought occurs to you.

"What are you going to do about Sam when... You know, it happens?"

"My parents will pick him up and he will spend the week with them."

"The week?" You make a face.

"A heat cycle lasts that long, yes."

"Oh. I probably shouldn't be asking about this. It's unprofessional," you say.

"Ask what you like. It is nice to have a human show some curiosity," he replies.

You smile at that and step out to the door to call the kids in for cake and ice cream. Sam gets a smaller portion so that he doesn't end up hurting his stomach with overly rich human food. The party ends on a note of success, and you have more trouble than usual getting Sam to go to bed because he doesn't want to part with his presents. This is the longest you have stayed yet, and you've enjoyed every moment of it.

When you come downstairs Mr. Araza is in the kitchen, eating a slice of birthday cake. He looks up, his eyes shimmering gold. Your pay is on the counter. As you tuck it into your pocket he says,

"Do you want to stay for a drink? Coffee?"

Your lips tug into a grin and you glance at the clock, trying not to look too eager.

"Then again, it's late, so if you want to be on your way..."

"No, I'd love some coffee!" you almost shout.

You fix yourself a cup and pad into the living room. He joins you on the couch, his tail shifting restlessly as he tries to get all of himself up on it.

"I think you need a bigger couch," you point out.

He grumbles and flops down, letting his tail spill into your lap, the end flicking and curling gently around your wrist. You blink and take a sip of your coffee to try and calm down.

"Mr. Araza..." You begin and he flicks his tongue out, his eyes sharpening as he considers what he tastes in the air.

"You can call me Lith. We are familiar now."

"Lith," you repeat, trying out his name.

"What did you want to tell me?" He asks, pressing his cheek against one of the pillows, getting even more comfortable.

"I... I don't want you to pay me anymore," you blurt out. "I enjoy spending time with Sam, and I'd love to come over often. If you'll let me."

His eyes flicker closed and he lets out a bone-weary sigh.

"When did I get so comfortable with you, little human? You have invaded my life like a worm in an apple."

You consider this for a moment. "Is that... A good thing? I can't tell."

His eyes open, gazing at the ceiling. "It is a dangerous thing. Sam has imprinted on you. He sees you as someone he can trust."

Those words make you all warm, and your smile grows wider and more confident.

"And what about you? Do you trust me?"

"You have given me no reason not to," he muses. "Your personality draws me in, it beckons like a fire. It is a warmth I would like to bask in."

You've been resting your hand on his tail without realizing it, stroking it absently. He doesn't seem to mind, so you let your hand remain there, tracing his scales. You're content to sit in silence with him and contemplate this new level you're at with him. After a moment you realize he's squirming restlessly. Again.

"Is something wrong?"

"No." He pulls himself closer, setting his chin on his palm and staring at you.

"What?" You frown. "Do I have cake on my face?"

His gaze darts down and he eyes your lips for a moment, looking contemplative. The world seems to stop for a moment. It's just you, and him, and the crickets chirping outside. His eyes narrow and when his tongue flicks out again the tip nearly boops your nose. He pulls away with a soft sigh.

"You're welcome to visit whenever you like," he says simply and then slithers off the couch.

That's your cue to leave. You take a moment to rinse the mug in the kitchen before you grab your jacket. Lith follows you to the door.

"I'm booked tomorrow and the day after that, so I won't be seeing you two until Saturday, at least." You dig your hands into your pockets and add jokingly. "Think you can manage?"

Lith lifts his shoulder, his tail coiling somewhat restlessly behind. "Well. I might miss you. Goodnight."

The door closes softly in your face and you blink at the abruptness. Maybe things got a little too mushy for him. Something was definitely happening in there, but you're not sure what. You head to your car, humming. You're already looking forward to Saturday.

Unrelated but what's the boop all about? Can someone tell me please? I'm seeing it everywhere but I have no idea what's going on. It looks fun!

Edit - My dumbass just looked it up!! Should have done that first, lol.

[yandere-fics]

♡ Naga Pauline ♡

(I had so much to say about this but i had to stop myself from making this way too long. Anyways let me know your thoughts, I personally really liked this.)

♡ None of the workers could even remember why it had occurred, anyone who had been there at the time so it wasn't like anyone could gossip about it. The heir to the Rhune family grew a snake tail and scales all over her body over night seemingly and thus was doomed to be locked in her room, kept away from anyone she could potentially hurt and brought her meals once a day when she was supposed to be sleeping. Afterall they only heard her slithering and throwing things at night so surely she must be nocturnal. Except they never really bothered to check, if they had you wouldn't have been in this predicament. ♡

♡ The head maid always told you that when you brought the creature her food you should stay at the edge of the door and not into the room fully even if she is asleep all day. You however felt too bad leaving her food on the ground and decided to see it she had a table there you could set it, she wasn't an animal after all and once her parents died, which personally you were beginning to feel they did deserve to die quickly, she would be your boss so against all rational judgement you stepped into the room and as soon as you stepped in, she caught you. ♡

"Like what the hell are you doing in here! Get out!" Despite saying that she had she tightly held in her coils, like she was afraid to let you go and end the only human contact she'd had in a very long time. She'd started to pretend to be nocturnal anyways just so people would crack the door during the day to give her food. She liked the slight bit of sunlight, it was so cold in her room given her parents had even boarded up the windows to keep people from looking in and although she was supposed to receive lantern oil the other maids were often too focused on skittering out and forgot to give her even the barest of supplies, though who could blame them when her parents told everyone she's extremely dangerous.

"I brought f-food!" You pointed towards the food you'd sent on her nightstand, it was the only thing she hadn't destroyed yet, mostly because it was bolted to the ground and she didn't want to go through that struggle. This was... nice she decided, yes nice was the word for it and while she felt annoyed that her first kindness in years was from a maid, she fought back the urge to lash out.

"Sit down and eat with me or whatever." You looked at her in surprise, this was supposed to be her only serving for the entire day, why was she allowing you to have some. "It's like fine or whatever, just make sure to bring me another helping later today." You nodded and scurried to sit next to her on her mattress.

♡ It became a regular occurence after that, eating food with her twice a day, once when you were sent to give her food and then a secret time on your break when you snuck into her room, sometimes bringing sweets or even a couple cups of tea one time, those had been particularly hard to sneak in but you'd seen how cold she was in her room and figured something warm would be nice. ♡

♡ Most days she forced you to sit in the center of what appeared to be her nest of blankets as she sat on the outskirts like she was guarding it as she ate, only beginning to eat once she'd seen you eat most of yours, as if to prolong the amount of time you spent with her. Other days when she felt more bold she curled her tail and forced you to sit in the spiral, scoffing at you to be grateful for the privilege though you could tell she was quite pleased with the contact. ♡

"Where were you? it's totally not cool to blow me off like that!" You'd been sick for a couple days and were forced to stay in the maid's quarters until you recovered, the head maid insisted, you were the only one brave enough to feed the creature more than once a day and so they had to make sure you recovered. You had wanted to slip out and let her know however they refused to let you leave your bed until you could at least fake it and pretend to feel perfectly fine.

"I'm sorry ma'am I was ill and due to the secret nature of our agreement I couldn't tell anyone to inform you." You bowed your head low in shame, you were supposed to be her personal maid as she had told you countless times before and yet you allowed this to happen.

"It's like not okay, my sleep was disrupted by this, I expect you to make thisssss up." She hissed for emphasize at the end which was actually really cute considering you knew she didn't really hiss unless on purpose. When she acted like that you really did want to do everything for her, screw the others who couldn't see how soft she still was.

♡ After that you napped in the little blanket nest with her everyday, you at the center, surrounded and supported by her coils, it was just to get warm so don't get the wrong impression, she had said but it was still nice all the same. She just felt extremely calming to be around and soon you wanted to sleep in her room whenever you slept even though it wouldn't be appropriate etiquette as her maid but to be honest you felt your etiquette was far more appropriate than any of the other maids. ♡

♡ She has insisted you bring your belongings into her room and just rest there from now on, she'd slip a note under the door pretending she had wrote it at night saying she wanted you to sleep in the room next to hers so she could ring for food and since no one came to that wing no one would even notice you were sleeping in her room, or so you had thought. ♡

You woke up to hissing from Pauline which wasn't super unusual since any time she had a bad dream she would hiss as if trying to scare the dream away, what had been unusual however was the volume of the hissing, it was clear she was fully awake and you were a bit scared to open your eyes since whatever Pauline felt threatened by must be pretty severe. Still you forced them to open and almost shat yourself when you saw her parents standing and smiling in the doorway.

"Now now, don't be like that Pauline, we're very happy you seem to have found a lover, you may be able to reenter society yet. You'll have to learn to act like a proper heir once again if you want us to allow you to keep this maid of yours." Her father looked over at you and gestured for you to get up and follow him but Pauline coiled her tail around you further.

"Fine keep her for now, you do need to grow up at some point today so we can have a conversation about your futures together. Also you there, you're fired." It did make sense considering how inappropriate this was however it still stung. You didn't think you'd have to actually worry though based on how tightly Pauline was holding you, only relaxing slightly when they left the room.

♡ Things changed almost an hour after they had caught the both of you napping together, although the maids were shaking like a leaf they still opened the door calmly, ignoring Pauline's hisses and screeches for them to get the fuck out and started to replace furniture and bring in new lamps though they dared not venture to the side of the room where the bed was for fear of upsetting her time with her supposed mate. ♡

♡ She had also decided the two of you would be lovers, it would be the best way to show everyone she was a true Rhune, they doubted her now with how monsterous she was but once they saw the fierce overprotectiveness of her lover, they would have to accept that like it or not, she is the heir to her family. Though that did seem made up considering how quickly she dove into kissing you as soon as you had agreed to her agreement. Biting your lip and hissing out all the rules you'd have to follow being hers, she wasn't going to let you serve her anymore, you needed to be treated with all the dignity the wife of the Rhune heir should be treated with. Those asshole maids would serve you from now on. They should consider themselves very privileged for this.♡

"Be still idiot, I need to figure out how these things work." A bold face lie in attempt to pretend this wasn't just an excuse to have sex with you however you knew better than to call her on her bluff. You had pleaded with her to just go with the one but she'd called you a stupid coward and continued with her plans anyways. She kept her face away from your shoulder to avoid nipping you, it would be awful if she poisoned you while her dicks were literally inside of you. She didn't exactly love the idea of having to explain to the family healer what had occured.

"Please be gentle with me?" You stroked her hair gently breathing a sigh of relief as her hips faltered for a moment only for them to quickly pick up speed again, her tail pinning your legs and preventing you from doing anything but take it.

"Dumbass," She huffed, pressing her forehead against your shoulder, still fighting to keep her fangs away, "It's like you want me to hurt you when you say stupid ass things like that."

♡ Now that the both of you had mated she was far more aggressive with everyone who even dared enter your chambers and she had forced her parents out of their room with some subtle threats because as the heir and the heir's lover you deserved the fanciest, nicest room in the house. They were just grateful she wasn't going to kill them in retaliation and relented very quickly. Her aggressive new attitude had lead to what had been her favorite discovery yet. ♡

♡ It had been just a small nip, trying to hurt you for daring to speak to the maids kindly when the only one who had been with you this entire time was her, the only one who deserves any kindness is her, not those dreadful maids. She figured she'd get you healed and then you'd learn your lesson but instead you'd become woozy and all so pliant. ♡

"Paulieeee...." You ran your hands through her hair gentle, pouting because she was too far away for you to kiss. "Pauliee, kissy." She scoffed, enjoying how weak and needy you became any time she ate you out but especially when she happened to give you a small bite of venom before she did so. Her cocks rutted furiously against the bed however it was mealtime so those could be dealt with later.

"It's like you want me to starve. You'll get your stupid 'kissy' later." You scowled at her calling it stupid especially when you knew how much she loved kissing you, especially when you were so tired like this, she did it nearly constantly. Still you sighed and realized your legs allowing her to continue her 'mealtime' as she often put it.

♡ Slowly the maids around the both of your slowly begun to disappear, likely murdered for disrespecting the heir despite her status as heit being unsure only a short time ago but honestly you couldn't really bring yourself to care, your only duty is to keep your master happy and stress free so does it matter what happens to others? ♡

[whatacaitastrophe]

Is It Over Now - Chapter 6

Previous Chapter

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Love The Hell Out of You" - Lewis Capaldi

Chapter Warnings: frottage

Spotify Playlist: Here

Chapter Notes: if you have read this fic, liked it, reblogged it, or left comments THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. keep the comments coming bc i love hearing your feedback (and like tinkerbell, i need applause to live).

Chapter 6: I'll Bring You Heaven, If That's What You Need

Astarion is gone when Fallon returns to the suite, and her heart drops into her stomach. 

“Astarion?” she calls out desperately as she scours every inch of the space they’ve been cohabitating in for the last month, just in case he’s hiding under the bed or in a wardrobe. Logically, she doesn’t know why he would be there, but her brain urges her to check, just in case. When she’s certain that he’s well and truly gone, Fallon’s chest tightens and she sinks down onto the floor in front of the couch. Her eyes brim with tears as she curses herself for being so stupid. She pushed away the one person she’d begun to believe wasn’t going to leave her. 

The door to the suite opens and shuts behind her. Fallon launches herself to her feet and comes face to face with Astarion, holding a plate of food. The relief that floods Fallon at the sight of him is so overwhelming that she begins crying.

“Fallon? Are– are you okay?” he asks, the look on his face is a mixture of confusion.

Fallon sniffs and she wipes her eyes. “You… you left…” she explains. “I got back, and you were gone, and I– I thought–”

Astarion is at her side with an elven quickness. He sets the food down on the sitting room table, and he pulls her into a crushing embrace. “I went down to the tavern to order food for you, because you’re much easier to have serious conversations with when you’ve eaten.” He kisses the top of her head and holds Fallon closer. 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Fallon feels incredibly silly. She looks at Astarion, and sniffs again. “You were downstairs? I– I walked through the Tavern to get back up here…I didn’t even see you,” She combs through her memory from the last ten minutes, trying to find Astarion in the tavern as she passed through. She’d been so focused on getting back to him, so worried about whether or not he’d still be there, the fact that he could still leave the suite but remain at The Elfsong didn’t occur to her. Fallon looks down again, pressing her forehead against Astarion’s chest, and a closed mouth giggle bubbles in her mouth. Then she snorts with laughter, and soon, she’s laughing out loud. 

Astarion isn’t sure what to make of the emotional whiplash and he just stares at her. “...Fallon? Would you care to let me in on the joke?” 

Gods, she must look insane. She looks up at him, and she’s grinning. “I’m sorry, I– it’s just.. I was so worried about getting back up here to try and catch you before you left, that I didn’t see you in a gods damned room I walked through.” And as a result, she’d nearly spiraled out, and she had no one to blame other than herself.

“Well, it’s been an emotional day…” He tries to reason, and Fallon cuts him off and grins. “No, don’t defend me to me, Astarion, this is one of those rare moments where I’ve made a complete fool of myself for no reason, and it just might be the funniest thing I’ve done in a long while.”

His body relaxes once he’s sure Fallon hasn’t lost her mind, and he grins back at her, and soon he’s laughing too. “You’re an absolute lunatic, you know that right? Shall I leave a note the next time I go to the toilet, just so you don’t worry?” 

“Please do, or I may just throw myself out a window.” Fallon rolls her eyes, shaking her head. She reaches up to wipe her eyes. “Gods, what a weird fucking day.” Though all is well now, she does not remove herself from his embrace. It feels safe here.

“Speaking of weirdness from today, I would like to talk about what happened earlier.” he requests, reaching up to wipe a stray tear from her cheek. 

“As would I, but I am quite hungry, and I desperately need to bathe. I still smell like sweat from this morning.”

“I didn’t want to say anything since you were under duress, but now that I’m certain all is well I must tell you how terrible you smell and request, nay, beg you to please for the love of the gods, take a bath.” There’s a twinkle in Astarion’s eyes as he teases her. Fallon gently shoves his chest.

“Well then let me go, and so I can save both of our noses.”  Even if she doesn’t smell nearly as bad as they’re pretending she does, Fallon still wants to get the grime of this day off of her body. 

Astarion presses another kiss to the top of her head, releasing her from his arms. “I promise I’ll still be here when you’re done.” He winks at her. Despite knowing her previous concerns about Astarion deciding to move out were unfounded, hearing him promise that he wasn’t going anywhere still sends a shot of relief through Fallon’s body as she exits the room. 

The warm water and soap do wonders for her body and her overall mental state, and when Fallon emerges from the bedroom with wet hair and bare legs, dressed in a comfortable oversized tunic, she feels immensely better, and ready to have the conversation she and Astarion need to have. Being vulnerable with people is not a favored pastime of Fallon’s, but at this point, Astarion has seen Fallon at her absolute worst in ways no other person has. 

Soft, classical music coming from the phonograph fills her ears when she re-enters the room, and Astarion is reading a book on the lounge chair by the fireplace. He only looks up long enough to offer her a gentle nod of acknowledgement before returning to his book. She sits down on the couch back in the sitting room as she realizes Astarion fetched one of her favorite meals: Fish and chips. A half-smile appears on her face as she picks up the plate, eternally grateful the cook in The Elfsong’s kitchens is a mage who’d created a spell to keep food from getting cold. “What are you reading?” She asks with a mouth full of chips. 

He looks up from his book. “Oh, it’s something I found on the bookshelf. Whoever stayed here last before you moved in must have left it behind.” Astarion closes the book and relocates to the couch beside Fallon, stealing one of her chips from her plate. Fallon once asked him why he still eats “normal” food soon after she found out he was a vampire; he told her that food still tastes good to him, even if it didn’t sate his hunger. Plus, keeping up appearances with those who believed him to be a perfectly normal highborn elf.

“Is it any good?”

“I think it’s technically a children’s book, but I’m enjoying it anyway. It’s about a young boy finding out he’s a wizard after living with his non-magical family for his entire life, and gets sent off to a magic school to be with his peers. The things that have happened to him whilst at school so far are unrealistic, but it makes for a good story. I can see why children would like it.” 

Fallon pauses mid-chew as Astarion describes the book to her. It’s a book Fallon knows extremely well, but she hasn’t thought about it or read it since she was fourteen years old. She swallows the food in her mouth. “I’ve read it… It was my favorite book as a child.” Fallon grins as she thinks back to the many nights she stayed up far past her bedtime reading the story over and over again, wishing she had magical powers. “Have you gotten to the part with the ogre yet?” 

Astarion snorts. “Yes, that’s what I was reading just now. Ridiculous.” 

“When I was a kid, I used to make my friends act out parts of the book with me in the garden,” She smiles at the memory. “Then one day, one of the little boys I played with, Declan was his name, yelled one of the spells from the book and it actually worked. His younger sister got blasted back by a force of air and hit a tree. She broke her arm. We were forbidden from actually saying the spells when we played after that.” 

“That’s…well that is the most adorable story I think I’ve ever heard,” He says, an endearing look on his face. “Are you still in contact with any of them?” 

Fallon smiles sadly and shakes her head. “No, I lost contact with everyone when I was forced to leave home after…after my parents died. I went by their farm while we were in Rivington, but the house had been burned to the ground. All I can hope now is they all got out before it went up in flames.” 

Astarion takes her hand and squeezes it. “Maybe now that we don’t have agents of The Absolute on our tails, you can ask around about them.” 

“Maybe,” she muses, and squeezes his hand back. “Maybe once you can walk in the sun again, you can come with me.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Silence falls between them as they look at each other. Discussing future plans is the perfect transition to the conversation they need to have, but Fallon’s nerves settle in suddenly and she doesn’t really want to be the first one to speak. Apparently, neither does Astarion. Still, someone needs to say something, so Fallon pushes through her nerves and opens her mouth.

“Astarion, I–”

“Fallon, I–” 

They speak at the same time, avoiding each other’s gaze as they laugh nervously. “Ladies first?” Astarion offers, and Fallon nods, swallowing hard. 

“Thank you for the gown.” She starts. Whatever Astarion expected her to say, it hadn’t been that and a look of surprise crosses his face.

“Oh! You’ve seen it?”

“I found Shadowheart on my walk. She was at Facemaker’s for a final fitting for her own,” she nods, fiddling with her hands in her lap. “Needless to say I was quite surprised when Figaro said he had something for me to try on.”

“Of course you found Shadowheart at the dress shop, of all places.” he laughs.

She pauses. “How did you know I was going to decide to attend the ball?”

“I didn’t. I’d planned to drag you there regardless of whether or not you wanted to go, because you need to leave this damn tavern more than once a month, and I didn’t want you to embarrass me, so I asked Figaro to whip something up.” He’s teasing her, and while Fallon appreciates the humor to lighten the conversation, she gives Astarion a look.

“You’re deflecting, Astarion.”

He sighs heavily. “Yes, well, this conversation isn’t any easier for me than it is for you, you know.”

“I know.”

Silence falls between them again. “Do you like it?” he asks softly.

Fallon stares at him in disbelief, and she grabs his hands, holding them in her own. “Like it? Astarion, I think it might be the most extravagant piece of clothing I’ve ever owned. If it were logical to wear it everywhere, I would.” she declares with a short laugh. 

“You could, you know. With how beautiful you probably look, nobody would question you.”

Fallon inhales sharply. It’s the first time Astarion has ever called her “beautiful.” In all the time she’s known Astarion, and for all the useless (but pretty) outfits she obtained through their travels and wore around camp, he’s never called her beautiful. It was usually a sly comment about backside, or that if he were the wizard, the outfit would be on the ground already. Nothing was ever serious, only ever said to intentionally get under her ex-lover’s skin.

As if he senses her disbelief, Astarion rubs his thumbs over the back of her hands. “Fallon, I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m attracted to you, or that I have been for…a very long time.” he admits cautiously. “Only I think we can both agree that back then I was in no position to be the person you needed; and by the time I was, you’d chosen him. He was, well, as stable as someone with an explosive in his chest could be. Even when he annoyed the hells out of me on a good day I saw how happy he made you, how nauseatingly adorable the two of you were, and decided to let it be.”

Everything he says makes perfect sense, and guilt settles in Fallon’s stomach. Hearing he’s cared for her all of this time makes her wish she maybe hadn’t flirted back quite so much back then. “I’m sorry if flirting with you the way I did ever hurt you, or led you on. Not once have I ever wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh I know, darling. You don’t need to worry about the things that happened during that time in our lives,” He lets go of one of her hands with a wave. “But that’s…that’s why I pushed you away earlier today. You’ve been so upset over him for so long, I was worried that if anything were to happen between us, it would mean so much more to me than it would to you. I don’t think I could have lived with that, or myself.”

Fallon exhales softly and takes back Astarion’s free hand. “I know I’ve been a complete and utter mess for the last year because of what happened, but after speaking with Shadowheart today, I think– I think I’ve always known deep down there could be something more happening here but I was so blinded by infatuation with him I didn’t see it,” she explains. “He was the first person that was kind to me and made me feel like I was worth something in a very long time, and I think I clung to that and to him so much because I needed to.”

“I’m not saying I didn’t actually love him, or that I don’t still have lingering feelings for him now, but I think those lingering feelings may have more to do with how he made me feel and how swiftly he took it all back than anything else. I’ve experienced a lot of loss in my life, and it’s led me to believe that people will always leave. He was the first person in decades to make me feel otherwise and well, you’ve seen the results firsthand.”

Fallon adjusts herself so she’s sitting on her knees on the couch, facing Astarion. “ None of that has any affect on my feelings for you. I’m still healing, yes, but having you around for the last month has helped more than I think you’ll ever understand. It’s helped me move on, and see what’s been in front of me this whole time.”

She’s speaking quickly now, like she’s trying to get everything out before she completely loses her nerve. “And if you don’t trust me, or this, and you don’t want to be with me because of it, I won’t think any less of you–”

“Fallon.” Astarion interrupts. 

“And if you don’t want me to come with you to Asha anymore because it will be too difficult to be around me or something, I completely understand. I’ll still help you prepare of course, because I’m invested now–”

“Fallon!” Astarion interrupts, louder this time, but a smile is blooming on his face. “Will you please shut up so I can kiss you?” 

Fallon gapes at him, but she remains silent as she nods. Astarion lets go of her hands and without any additional ceremony, he cups her face in his hands and pulls her in for a deep, slow kiss. Fallon kisses him back in earnest. Her balance wavers in her current position, so she takes the opportunity to crawl towards Astarion and straddle herself across his lap.

That’s the only encouragement from her that Astarion needs, and the way he kisses her changes from sweet and tender to absolutely filthy. His hands move from her face to her bare thighs and he pulls her body flush against his, grinding her hips down into his lap with a delicious friction that leaves Fallon breathless. Their tongues invade each other’s mouths desperately, and Astarion’s teeth graze Fallon’s bottom lip, biting gently. She moans softly, grinding against him again as her hands begin to roam over his chest, settling there to grip his shirt so tightly it’s as though her hold on the fabric covering his skin is the only thing tethering her to reality.

Astarion’s broad hands slide up her thighs to rest on her ass, kneading it gently, and he groans into her mouth. “You have,” he mutters against her lips before kissing her again. “The most perfect fucking backside,” He bites her lip a little harder, and she whimpers with pleasure. “In all of Faerun.” The praise has Fallon grinding against him again, desperate for any sort of friction she can get, her mouth moving to kiss his neck. She does not dare bite Astarion’s neck out of fear of the memories it may bring back, but it does not stop her from pressing feverish kisses on his skin, taking extra care and gentleness on the spot where two puncture marks from Cazador permanently reside. A noise of approval leaves Astarion and Fallon smirks, licking the column of his neck slowly before kissing it again. 

Her grinding movements against his lap are consistent now, as are the accompanying breathy little moans. Fallon is immensely pleased as she feels Astarion’s cock completely harden underneath her, his own breath becoming heavier. “Gods above, you’re an absolutely feral little thing, aren’t you?” Astarion murmurs teasingly into her ear, nipping lightly at the skin just below it. “You’re going to come like this for me.” It’s not an observation, or even a request. 

It’s an order, and it’s so damn hot that his name tumbles out of her mouth. “Fuuuuck, Astarion .” It comes out like a whine and she can feel him smirking against her neck. He nudges her away from his neck to capture her mouth again with his own in a demanding kiss, and his grip tightens on her ass, pulling her as close to him as he can while she grinds on his hard cock. His own movements are becoming desperate, and Fallon doesn’t need to ask or be told to know that she’s not the only person about to come in their pants like an inexperienced virgin. Astarion bites down on her lip sharply and tugs and Fallon’s mind edges on going blissfully blank. “That’s it, be a good girl and let go.” he mutters.

Hearing the man beneath her calling her a “good girl” is all it takes, and Fallon falls apart. Her orgasm rocks through her and she cries out with pleasure. Astarion holds her close as she shatters, kissing her feverishly, and when his own orgasm spills out of him, he’s moaning desperately into her mouth while they finish riding the high out together. They exchange a few more gentle kisses, and once Fallon catches her breath, she pulls back from Astarion and presses her forehead against his. The way he looks at her when his eyes open nearly sends her heart flying out of her chest, and Fallon is quite certain the smile on her face is now permanent. 

“You know,” Astarion muses. “I think that’s the first time anyone has ever been so good at just…moving…that I’ve come in my trousers.” 

Fallon snorts and kisses his nose. “Well I’ve had a lot of practice moving like that.”

Astarion pulls back to look at her with a raised eyebrow and an amused look on his face. “Oh?”

“Not like that, you twat,” She rolls her eyes. “In another life, I rode horses quite regularly so I imagine that despite not having done so in a long time, it’s muscle memory?”

“Sure, horses.” He teases, and kisses her sweetly. “Darling, as much as I would like to remain here with you in my lap, I did just make a mess of myself, so perhaps a bath is in order for me as well.”

Fallon pouts for a moment, not really wanting to relocate. “I suppose I should let you do that since the mess is my fault, shouldn’t I?” She kisses him once more before moving out of his lap. 

He stands and readjusts himself and manages to only look mildly disgusted when his hand comes in contact with the wet spot on the front of his trousers. Fallon giggles to herself as he walks off, and she flops back on the couch with a satisfied smile on her face.

Chapter List

[lisbeth-kk]

Date

Thanks for the prompt @calaisreno

Starry night

Sherlock wants to do something special for John’s birthday this year, but not on the actual date. John’s already invited Greg, Molly, Mike and Mrs. Hudson. He doesn’t want some grand gathering just because he turns forty. They order food from Angelo’s and Mrs. Hudson’s outdone herself with a rich chocolate cake. It’s covered with a sinful glaze which Sherlock later in the evening, licks off John’s fingers, lips and nipples.

A few days later Sherlock wakes John by playing the violin. He’s composed a new piece for John, which he also played on John’s birthday. It had brought tears to John’s beautiful eyes and moments later earned Sherlock a long and passionate kiss. John comes out of the bedroom in his dressing gown, hair dishevelled, a bright smile on his face.

“Thank you for waking me up like that, sweetheart,” John murmurs as he embraces Sherlock from behind. “Any particular reason?”

“Yes. I have a special surprise for you today,” Sherlock says and turns to face John.

He places the violin aside, cups John’s face and kisses him softly. 

“Are you hungry yet?” Sherlock inquires.

“A bit,” John admits but makes no effort of retreating from Sherlock’s arms.

“Tea and toast. Then bathroom,” Sherlock states, and kisses John’s forehead before he strides to the kitchen.

“Come on, John. Lots to do before tonight’s big reveal,”

***

While John finishes his tea, Sherlock asks him to join him in the bathroom in five minutes. John’s puzzled but revels in the sensation of not knowing what Sherlock’s up to. He places his empty mug in the sink and walks to the bathroom. The door is shut, and he can hear water running. He taps lightly and Sherlock urges him to enter. John’s not prepared for the scenario before him. Sherlock’s running a bath, there are lit candles on the edge and classical music is played from a hidden device. It smells of vetiver and the whole atmosphere is calming. John instantly relaxes. 

“The bath is ready for you, John. Do you prefer to bathe with or without your clothes on,” Sherlock teases when John just looks around mesmerised.

Sherlock doesn’t wait for John to react, but walks over to him, bends down and kisses John’s neck while sliding the dressing gown off his shoulders. John closes his eyes and moans. He feels Sherlock’s hands slide up his flanks bringing the t-shirt along and in one sweeping movement pulls it over John’s head and tosses it to the floor. John reaches out to catch Sherlock in his arms, but Sherlock’s vanished from his sight. Looking down he finds Sherlock on his knees slowly pulling down his pyjamas bottoms and pants. Warm breath ghosts over his penis and John instinctively moves his hands to Sherlock’s hair.

“Later, John,” Sherlock murmurs and stands.

John gathers himself, clenching his fists, breathing deep.

“You’re a real tease, Sherlock Holmes,” John pouts, probably looking like a petulant child, which Sherlock’s deep chuckle confirms.

***

John’s a bit drunk, or so it feels after the hot bath. Being bathed by Sherlock isn’t something that has occurred often, but by god when it does it’s heaven. Having his back scrubbed and his scalp massaged are John’s absolute favourite things and leaves him boneless and pliant.

Sherlock’s ordered him back to bed, not for sleep or sex, but something else John still haven’t deduced. When Sherlock appears, just wearing his trousers, carrying a bowl, a towel and a little case, John knows what’s coming and his body sings with anticipation. This has only happened once before, and it’s been awhile, but the memory of it is still vivid in John’s mind. He’s going to have the tightest, smoothest shave, done by his love. His toes curl just by thinking about it. Sherlock’s clearly seen the emotions of the memory on John’s face, because he grins smugly.

“So eager, John,” he purrs, and the deep voice makes John shiver.

Sherlock seats himself behind John and leans his back on the headboard. He pulls John closer, and John lays his head willingly on Sherlock’s shoulder. It’s bliss being this close to Sherlock, when his skilled hands shaves John’s cheeks, chin and jaw. His movements are careful but firm, and every now and then he places a kiss on John’s temple or crown. John doesn’t move an inch. Although he knows Sherlock will never hurt him, the sharp knife will if John starts Sherlock by touching him when he concentrates on his task.

***

Sherlock’s quite pleased with his efforts thus far. John’s lying utterly satisfied in his arms. Sherlock lets his fingers trace John’s face for any stubble, but his skin is smooth and silky. 

“So, are you going to tell me more about today’s event?” John asks lazily.

“As I said, it’s a surprise. However there are some things you need to know,” Sherlock says aiming for sounding mysterious.

John laughs and Sherlock sighs happily. The sound of John’s laughter is so familiar, soothing, calming and lovely. He’s recorded it numerous times so that he can listen to it whenever he needs or feels the urge to, but it’s never the same as hearing it live. 

“We´re going out tonight. I’m not saying where, but I would prefer if you wore your new suit,” Sherlock reveals.

“Ooo, going somewhere posh, are we?” John inquires.

“Not exactly. Quite unusual in fact. At least in this context,” Sherlock muses.

“I’m intrigued,” John states.

“Good,” Sherlock says. “I’ll have to go out and prepare a few things beforehand, so we’ll meet there. A car will pick you up at eight.”

***

Sherlock left a few hours ago. John was reading the newspaper when Sherlock shouted his goodbye and was off before John even got to see what he was wearing. 

John’s standing in front of the mirror, straightening his tie. The new suit looks good on him. After all, it was Sherlock who picked it out. Not that John’s not capable of buying his own clothes, but when it comes to suits, Sherlock’s the expert. 

The car arrives at precisely eight o’clock. It looks like one of Mycroft’s cars, but John can’t tell for sure. His phone buzzes.

There’s a silky scarf in the pocket of the front seat. Use it to blindfold yourself. SH

“What the…?” John mutters.

The driver doesn’t react, so John sighs, shakes his head and blindfolds himself with said scarf. He feels ridiculous.

***

Shortly after the car stops and the back door opens.

“John. Take my hand,” Sherlock’s familiar voice says softly.

He reaches out and Sherlock’s warm hand takes his and helps him out of the car. Sherlock lifts his hand and John feels Sherlock’s lips press a kiss to his palm. He smiles and his excitement rises. Sherlock guides him carefully up a few stairs of steel and over a threshold. Then there’s a movement and he startles.

“I’ve got you,” Sherlock murmurs close to his ear, embracing John from behind.

John leans back and enjoys this ride or whatever it is. His confidence in Sherlock is infinite. When the movement stills, Sherlock removes the scarf and John gapes. They’re high above the city. In a glass cubicle. In the London Eye.

“Sherlock,” John whispers in awe.

Sherlock tightens his grip on John and hums.

“Do you like it?” he asks.

“I…er…I…god. It’s amazing, Sherlock. I’ve always wanted to go, but it’s so crowded and there never was a time, and…”

John turns in Sherlock’s arms to face him.

“How on earth did you manage to get us up here? Just the two of us and after hours. I mean…wow.”

“Favours, John,” Sherlock mutters almost inaudible. Before cradling John’s face, kissing him tenderly.

He turns John so he can face the scenery again. It’s dark in the cubicle, London lies underneath their feet and above the stars are shining. The sight is breathtaking.

“I love you,” John whispers and leans back to rest his head on Sherlock’s shoulder.

“I love you too, John,” Sherlock says.

They stay like that for a long time before John breaks the silence.

“Are we staying up here?”

“We are,” Sherlock says, and John can hear the mischief in his voice.

He reaches for something and then there’s a click. The cubicle lights up with some sort of fairy lights. There’s a table with finger food, an ice bucket with a champagne bottle and two chairs.

“Let’s eat,” Sherlock says and leads John to the table.

***

“You’ve really outdone yourself, love,” John says looking over at Sherlock.

“Well, it’s a special occasion, John. Besides, you know I do fancy a bit of opulence,” Sherlock states and winks at him.

John’s about to retort, but Sherlock beats him to it.

“Don’t even think about comparing me with my brother, John!” Sherlock exclaims.

John rolls his eyes and chuckles, but sobers when he spots the look on Sherlock’s face. He looks…nervous?

“Sweetheart. Something wrong?” John asks cautiously and takes Sherlock’s hand in his, stroking soothingly.

Sherlock shakes his head vehemently, stands from his chair and walks towards John. He pulls him to his feet and cups his face carefully, looking John straight in the eyes.

“John, will you marry me?” he asks, his voice deep and velvety.

“Of course I will, Sherlock. I want nothing else. Oh, love.”

John mirrors Sherlock’s position, stroking his thumbs over his cheekbones and pulls his beloved detective, in for a kiss. 

A nice long one for you today. Tooth-rotting fluff, I think.

@totallysilvergirl @raina-at @missdeliadili @topsyturvy-turtely @meetinginsamarra @keirgreeneyes @peanitbear @gaylilsherlock

[saturnite0614]

I did another fun cod one shot full of angst and things that will make people hate me :) It's based on a twitter post

important tags/TW: major character death and graphic depictions of violence

Soap bites his lip, staring at Ghost over his lunch.

"So this Friday works for you?"

Ghost pushes around the various pieces of fruit on his tray, "You'll know if something comes up."

"So it's a date then." Soap leans forward into Ghost's personal space, the first purposeful breach between them.

"I guess it is."

"Does that mean I get to see your face?"

"You've seen it." Just once and only for a few small seconds. Even now seeing half of it isn't enough. The black fabric is pulled over his nose, allowing him to eat.

"Can't make an exception for a date?"

Ghost chews a soggy slice of peach before leaning in to meet Soap. Their noses brush together, making his heart leap directly into his brain and slamming into his eyes like a cartoon character. Might as well say "awooga" as he drinks in Ghost's brown eyes.

"Not a first one."

"Does that mean there will be more?" Soap perks up.

Ghost’s eyes flick across his face, tracing various parts of him. When previous partners did it, he shirked away, feeling his self-esteem plummet. "Depends how well you treat me. After all, you asked me."

"Is my character in question?"

"Maybe. You're coming off awfully insecure, Johnny."

"Naw, I'm a brave lad. Had the courage to sit here and ask."

Soap slammed his tray down. "Go on a date with me."

Ghost looked up, "What?"

"Romantic. Date. You. Me."

"We'll save the rest of the questions for Friday." He pulls his mask down, "I've got reports to file, as I'm sure you do."

He did, but it's not like he'd be able to focus knowing that in 32 hours, he'd be going on a date with The Ghost. Who said "yes" with very little argument or convincing. He's obviously off his nut asking his superior on a date while on duty and while on base, but he couldn't help it, not when the man was practically haunting his peripheral vision. It nagged at him – the jokes and flirting shared between them and especially the time Ghost spent bent over him, treating the bullet wound in his arm. Part of this fuzzy feeling buzzing in his teeth and nose might be from hero worship, but part of him urged him to shoot his shot. Soap's intuitive. He has to be in his line of work and his gut told him to throw himself in the sea to show Ghost that out of all the fish out there, Soap was one of them. This urge was so strong, it hadn't even occurred to him until after the words left his mouth that Ghost might not like men or masc people in general, both of which applied to Soap.

Ghost stands with his tray in hand, perfectly balancing the remaining food on it with cat-like grace. Soap bolts to follow him, leaving his own untouched tray behind. He steps in front of the lieutenant, putting them nose to nose again.

"Can I kiss you?" His teeth clack together in jittery excitement.

The painted skin around Ghost's eyes crinkle in a smile, Soap had come to learn. "Excited aren't we?"

"Damn right I am. Aye."

"It's almost cute," Ghost looks him up and down again, "But I'll have to decline. Have to save something for our date."

Our date. Soap would never get over that phrase, especially with Ghost's rough accent.

"I'd call you a tease but I should have expected that."

Ghost may deny the kiss, but he does pat Soap's arm, touching the space closer to his neck than his bicep. Soap shivers, a response that Ghost notes with a twitch of a light mussed eyebrow.

Oh, Soap was down bad.

—

Soap made an effort to dress…nice? They weren't leaving base, just heading out to the training range to fire some rifles and share some beers. A soldier's version of breakfast and coffee. But Soap had dug around for a button-up that had somehow made it into his duffle the last time he went on leave. It’s wrinkled as shit, making his large form more boxy than tapered. At the last minute, he pulls it out of his waistband where he’d tucked it into his jeans.

He’s standing outside the barracks waiting for Ghost. They’d walk to the shooting range together, like kids going to a dance. Would they hold hands? He asks himself in a mocking voice. Fucking stupid.

The barrack door opens and Ghost stands there wearing his signature look – mask, heavy jacket, thick black cargo pants. He hadn’t made a visible effort. Ghost’s eyes widen as he takes in the button-up and clean jeans. Soap had even scraped the mud off his boots. He swallows.

“You look…good?” Ghost shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Thanks.” They both look at their shoes, shuffling in their respective places.

“Want to get going?” He gestures with his elbow towards the shooting range.

“Gladly.” Soap holds up a six-pack, “Want one?”

Ghost slips two glass bottles from the cardboard container. Almost impossibly, he grasps both caps with one hand and pops them both off with a carbonated hiss. Then he gifts one to Soap. They clink them together as the brown liquid inside bubbles to the top.

They walk in silence, only sipping at their respective drinks. Ghost doesn’t lift his mask above his nose this time, instead holding it away from his mouth as he nurses the beer.

There’s no one around them. Everyone else is preparing to turn in for the night – eating last minute meals, taking cold showers, losing money and clothes in poorly thought out card games. The latter is probably what Gaz and Price would be doing, although they’d be winning and they wouldn’t let Soap forget that he missed it.

If the rest of the night continued on like this, he just might agree with them.

They’re about halfway done with their first drinks once they get to the range. The lights are on, glowing yellow against the cool summer night. They light little warm pools along their paths. A rain had come through a few days ago, and still the dirt beneath their feet rests sodden, holding on their journey and the paths taken by others. The grass around the edges is bright green, hanging heavy with dew. He’s regretting the white shirt right about now.

“So,” Ghost pulls his mask back down, “A competition or just friendly shooting?”

“We can do both.” Soap looks around and spots some far off targets. A sniper’s range.

“You’re a sniper expert, right?” Soap takes a deep drink of his beer.

Ghost hums, “Last time I checked both of us where.”

“Damn straight. Come on.” They drop their drinks by the range then head inside the nearby building. Soap grins sheepishly at the soldier still on duty, stuck on the night shift. They check out some rifles and ammo.

Soap takes his time loading his own weapon, watching Ghost do the same with deft hands, working quickly. Soap could probably match his speed if he weren’t so distracted. They’re sitting on the damp grass with their weapons in their laps. Ghost checks his scope, holding the gun with one hand and sipping at his drink with the other. Allowing himself to stare at Ghost’s hands. They’re strong for sure, but a bit knobby. His knuckles are large, probably coming from years of abuse. The scarred skin ripples like a wave with every shift of his muscles. The scars seem to grow and shrink. Soap’s own hands are incredibly scarred but some of the ones on Ghost’s hands look bigger and deeper. They weren’t the results of mere accidents or slip ups.

He wants to know.

Ghost flips onto his stomach and aims his sights down range.

“Wait,” Soap touches his shoulder, “We haven’t decided what we’re shooting for.”

He pulls the level back, “One clip. Most amount of headshots is winner.”

“What do they win?” Soap joins him, pressing their shoulders together. If they hadn’t already agreed that this was an actual date, he wouldn’t allow this for himself. He would have put more distance between themselves. Ghost stiffens, only perceptible because they’re touching. He relaxes a moment later. It’s so quick that Soap questions whether it’d actually happened.

“Guess I’ll decide when it happens.” He squeezes the trigger, exhaling in a foggy puff of breath. The target down range wobbles. “1-0.”

“Bastart.” Soap takes his shot.

—

Ghost wins, but he cheated. He’d watched Soap with those doe brown eyes of his every shot he took. They were still lethal, but not headshots. They sit criss-crossed, both on their third beers, looking up at the sky with their weapons abandoned between them.

Soap holds his bottle with two hands, mouthing the rim. “Did you have fun?”

Ghost looks at him eyes first, then tilts his head down. “I did.”

“I feel like we haven’t done much.”

He looks down at his drink, swirling it around. “Do you have to?”

Soap shrugs, “You just do stuff on dates.”

“Guess I’m not great company.” He mumbles, bringing his knees up to rest his arms on.

“What do you mean?” Soap drops his hands to his lap.

“What do you even like about me?” Ghost squints, as if it were sunny and bright out and not the middle of the night. His voice is low.

“Lots of things?” He can’t help the uplit to his voice, confused more as to why he’s asking the question versus confused at how to answer it.

Ghost sips his beer, still hiding behind his mask. Seemed he only lifted it to eat.

Soap crawls his way over, staining his jeans green. He presses their arms together again, “You’re smart in a book smart way, like you’re always three steps ahead. You’re strong as hell. Not sure if you noticed how red my face gets when we spar.”

Ghost looks at his feet again. Even with his face completely covered, Soap knows he’s blushing. His shoulders hunch and the skin on the back of his hand turns red. Soap gently reaches over, placing his hand on top of Ghost’s. He doesn’t do as far to actually hold it.

“Against my better judgement, I think you’re funny. Not your jokes, but the way you can’t keep yourself from laughing at them. It’s cute.” Soap swallows, “I like how you keep me curious. I want to know more about you.”

“That’s why you asked me out?”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t know if I can give you that.”

“It doesn’t have to be the deep stuff. It could just be small things like hobbies or what you do on leave. Those are a part of you too. And there’s time. Like those other dates you alluded to.”

Ghost holds his bottle up, examining the contents again, as if they’d changed in the few minutes since he opened it. It’s his substitute for eye contact. “I want to know more about you too.”

Soap can't help the smile, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his now burning neck.

—

"This is me," Soap stops in front of his room. Ghost knows damn well where they are, he's just always wanted to say it, and finally saying it has his joints locking in place with a fuzzy excitement.

Ghost rolls his eyes, hiding his red hands in his pockets again. "Glad I was able to see you safely home."

"A good way to end the night."

Ghost raises an eyebrow, "Only good?"

"Aye," Soap fiddles with his keys, just to give him something to do while he figures out his best approach. "I recall a question I asked you a few days ago. That might clue you in to the missing piece."

Ghost leans against the door frame, "Really? You've been watching too many movies."

"Oh piss off." Soap scoffs, shoving his room key in the lock.

"Giving up that easily?"

Of course he had to taunt him. Soap looks up at him before turning the key, "If you're just going to make fun of me, then yeah."

Ghost looks off to the side. "Thought I was being cheeky."

"Right cheeky."

"Hey," Ghost taps his chin with a strong finger, bringing Soap's gaze back to him, "Night's not over till we agree it is. So say what you want to."

Soap looks him up and down, focusing on the hand still touching his chin. He swallows.

"Can I kiss you?" Soap's voice scratches through his throat, hoarse and…nervous.

Ghost smiles underneath his mask. "Surprised you held off this long."

He leans in and first, only their noses touch and they breathe each other in – fresh gunpowder, hot metal, and stake beer. Soap's eyes are locked on Ghost's but his date's eyes flick all around his face, like they always did.

"You're goin' to leave the mask on?" Soap whispers.

Ghost's eyes snap to his, "Which would you prefer?"

Soap can't work his mouth. Can't work any part of him, really. The words form in his mind but fail to find purchase anywhere significant.

Instead his abandons his keys and bring both of his hands to cup Ghost's jaw, gently pressing his thumbs to the softness underneath. His face is soft.

Then he rolls the fabric, only enough to reveal his lips – pink, chapped, and uneven. His top lip is thicker than his bottom, as if he were sucking it in. His chin and jawline are simultaneously round and sharp, at least the parts he could see were. Before he can observe further, Ghost presses in. Or maybe Soap does first. Either way, their lips connect. They slot together nicely, giving way the pressure of the other. Ghost tilts his head, fitting them together in a completely new way. The movement brings the scent of fresh woodsy laundry, almost floral in nature. Ghost had cleaned his mask beforehand, wrenching away the musk of sweat and work.

Soap smiles into the kiss, moving his hand to cup the back of Ghost's head. Ghost's hand moves to rest on his shoulder as he tilts again, pressing their noses together ever so slightly.

He slow blinks when they finally break apart. Ghost flashes him a small smile before fixing his mask.

"You should get some rest, Johnny," Ghost’s voice is pitched slightly higher and he dips his face towards his torso, "We've got early morning drills."

"Yeah." Soap's breathless, negotiating with his lungs to ration what little is left in them. "But, we should also do this again."

"Next Friday work for you? Maybe I'll take you off base." Ghost still isn't looking at him, instead his hands are in his pockets again.

"Yeah. Friday works."

"I'll see you then sergeant." Ghost backs away with a small salute. And Soap watches until he reaches the corner and turns, heading for his own bunk.

"See ya then, Simon.”

—

Soap whistles to himself as he takes out another guard with his trusty rifle. Seemed he rarely got the opportunity to exercise his sniping ability. His skills were on par with Ghost’s but he never got to prove that. It’s why the cocky bastard had won. Another one of Makarov’s guards drops, this time without Soap’s help.

“We still shooting for points?” Ghost asks over comms.

Soap ejects his shell casing, “Only if I’m winning.”

Ghost chuckles.

“Keep it professional you two. Fuck’s sake.” Price chastises just as Gaz says, “Loser buys drinks.”

The eye roll is audible.

It’s all a bit fucked-up. These are human beings they’re ending with just the slightest twitch of their fingers. There is no “but” to excuse it besides making themselves feel better. They all already have enough trouble sleeping at night.

Soap scans around, looking for their two men on the ground. He spots Price and Gaz entering the compound, coast clear for now.

“Shit.” Ghost curses, “Bravo 0-6. I have to go dark. I’ve got tangos in the building.”

Price’s voice crackles to life before Soap can respond, “Rog. Stay safe.”

“Should only take a few seconds.”

“Stay frosty.” Soap whispers into his mic, but there’s already the fuzz of a disconnected comm. His stomach churns and suddenly, the comfortable spot he’d found for overwatch was no longer comfortable. Hard clumps of dirt prod his rigid muscles and rocks scrape at his skin with every small bit of movement. He swings his rifle around, watching Price and Gaz’s approach and seeking out the glint of Ghost’s rifle. He only finds the former.

—

Ghost stays dark the entire rest of the mission. It’s not unusual…per se. He’s used to working alone which means the man has some terrible communication habits. Either he talks too much or too little, not that he’d recognize that without someone telling him.

But Soap’s stomach hadn’t settled. Even though everything went smoothly. Price and Gaz are in and out without anyone being none the wiser. They’d gone through the paths Soap and Ghost had cleared and hid bodies so no one truly noticed anything. That’s the problem with hired mercs, you can’t always trust them to keep their post.

“Bravo 0-6 and 2-6 are at exfil. Bravo 0-7 and 7-1, you are free to leave your posts.” Price is yelling through his comms, fighting the roar of a car engine.

Soap’s response is quieter, “Copy that.”

Both men wait for another response that doesn’t come.

“Bravo 0-7?” Soap asks. This is the part where Ghost is supposed to come in with a cheeky pun.

“Ghost?” Still nothing. “Soap, get to his last known location and get his ass back here. Stubborn bastard.” Price’s voice cracks, “Bravo 0-6 out.”

Soap scrambles to his feet, throwing his rifle over his shoulder and stumbling down the hill. He’s making a shit ton of noise. He really should be taking his time and exercising stealth instead of rampaging like a Spanish Bull. He trips at the bottom, ramming face first into the chain link fence encasing the compound. It wobbles and the sound echoes outwards. With any luck, any remaining soldiers would think an animal was dumb enough to miss the obstruction, like a bird or rodent.

There’s razor wire encircling the top but that doesn’t stop Soap from digging his boots into the fence openings and scaling the damn thing. He slices his arm immediately upon reaching the top, dripping blood onto the dry ground below. His jeans get the same treatment as he throws himself over the fence. Every part of him burns, like he’d been trapped in a tunnel of whirling paper, slicing into his skin from every angle.

He drops down, popping his ankle and stumbling to a standing position.

Ghost’s last known position is locked in his mind. They’d sent him ahead of time to be their inside man. He’d given them entry locations and guard patterns. Soap beelines towards his Ghost. The map he’d studied beforehand comes alive before him and he ducks in and out of buildings, with little regard to his own safety. He turns corners and finally comes across a warehouse, one of the many unused ones in the compound. It was because of this it was supposed to be a good place. Ghost had reported that half the rooms had broken doors and stairs were rusted and falling apart. It simply wasn’t safe for everyday use. Maybe he’d simply fallen and was just waiting for someone to come get him. He’d be fine.

He would be. Fine.

Soap slips in through a broken window, the only act he’d taken to be quiet during this entire endeavour. Going through the wide open loading dock would have been too obvious, even for him. He scans around the ground, looking for any sign that Ghost had fallen. Maybe a broken railing or a left behind piece of equipment. But there’s nothing besides pieces of trash, tumbling gently in the breeze and getting caught in corners.

Soap pulls his pistol out and gently navigates the stairs. There are holes in the rusted metal, making it warp and dip in places where feet had made their mark.

The top is just as bad. The catwalk is pot marked. It's a good thing there's a door to his right, because there is no way he'd make it to the left side without crashing to the concrete floor. If he couldn't, neither could Ghost. How he stayed that big with their diet, he'd never know.

But he would ask and ask, until they were old and feeble because Ghost is fine.

He nudges the door, expecting to find it closed.

It creaks open, the lock broken.

Soap's heart leaps into his throat at the site of the demolished wood on both the door and frame. He touches the dry wood, getting a splinter for his investigative efforts. The elements hadn't yet had time to smooth the damage out.

Soap raises his weapon, creeping forward through the hall. He clears the various offices, finding more broken locks, this carnage much older.

Each empty room is another failed attempt to find Ghost. So, he stops looking at them for clues and instead, the floor beneath his feet.

Brown dust coats everything. It already has settled on his blue jeans, glued there with sweat. It’s on the walls, untouched. But the floor tells a different story. What should paint a clear picture of Ghost’s solitary journey, instead shows a major disruption. It’s practically clear of dust as other people came trudging through.

Bravo 0-6. I have to go dark. I’ve got tangos in the building.

Soap follows the trail, trying to count how many people came through here, but it’s all a jumbled mess of boot prints. Could have just been a handful of people. Could have been a whole fucking squad. But Ghost could handle them, right? He’d be sitting at his perch surrounded by knifed bodies, complaining because his radio broke during the fight. Soap bites his tongue, cementing the image into his mind through pain. The hall opens up into a large office space, cleared of furniture. Like the first door, it’s completely broken in. Completely. The wooden door is flat to the ground and crooked. After that, the first thing he notices is the three bodies on the ground. One still has a knife lodged in the base of his skull, oriented upwards to stab directly into the armoured man’s brain. His sleek black helmet offered no protection to that particular spot. Soap retrieves the knife, earning himself a fresh spirt of blood. He wipes it off on his pants and sheaths it.

The fight had continued on into another room. To the right of the initial door is another one that leads into a hall identical to the first. More concerningly is the biblical smear of blood leading him exactly to the room where the fight finished.

Soap steps around it and the bodies of other well armed men wearing unmarked uniforms. Their tactical vests hadn't been protection against knives. They would have protected against bullets, if there were any guns to supply them. Nobody shows signs of ever having had a weapon.

Soap counts and additional five bodies in the hall and shoved into equally empty offices.

There are boot prints in the bright red smear beneath him. Soap takes a single step into the path then presses his foot down in an empty space, comparing the treads.

Different boots than there's. The size is close to his as well.

Not Ghost's.

He doubles back and compares the treads to the dead bodies he passed.

Every organ falls through him, hollowing him out with a silent snap of fingers. He's a silent puppet, dragged by his own remains to the single office at the end of the hall. His intestines wrap around his wrists and guide him there like a good little soldier marionette, wearing his gun on his back like a prop and dirt smeared across his face.

With a trembling hand, Soap pushes the door open, pressing his palm against a large hand-shaped smear.

The stench of fresh blood conjures familiarity like a mother's perfume. Instead of a full frontal assault, it's a creeping remembrance. The red tendrils wrap around his hands telling him, "We're here together little one. You know what this is."

Another unmarked body lies slumped against the wall, a knife lodged in his mouth. His split lip reveals his white teeth and allows his swollen tongue to peek out.

Soap's gaze moves slowly towards the centre of the room, eyeing a mountain of offal, like a gutted animal. A vest lies off to the piles left, torn off its owner through some great force.

Lying on his back is the owner of the still steaming insides. Brown eyes stare widely at the cracking ceiling, as if enraptured by the fractals of peeling plaster. Red rivulets stream across a skeletal visage quite clearly belonging to him, going off the gouge across his cheek, tearing into black fabric and dragging down across the pale skin of an exposed throat.

Soap drops to his knees, feeling along the mangled neck for a pulse.

"Ghost?" His voice cracks into silence.

There's no startled intake of breath.

There's no blinking.

Or twitching.

There's nothing.

Ghost's hands are splayed at his sides, stripped of his usual skeleton gloves. The palm of his left hand, the same one that had held Soap's shoulder a week before, as a jagged gash across it.

Ghost whips his hand up, catching the blade with his hand. The enemy soldier presses in, unintimidated. The knife slips, slicing across, missing his torso, and finding purchase into his opposite bicep. His hold on the other man slips, allowing a different knife to gouge into his cheek-

Soap grabs the hand, bringing it to rest on Ghost's still chest.

"Simon?" He sets his gun down, feeling around again for a pulse.

He doesn't let go of his hand but he does reach for his radio with bloodied fingers, "Bravo 7-2 to Bravo 0-6. We need CASEVAC."

His hand falls to his side.

"What's his status?" Price's voice crackles to life instantly.

Soap's voice does not. He fully sits on the ground, holding Ghost's hand.

He's probably having trouble breathing with the mask on. It's soaked in blood, more stifling than anything.

Soap peels the sodden balaclava up, revealing those pink uneven lips and surprisingly rounded jawline. Even the knife wound didn't ruin that.

"Soap!"

"Come on Soap." Gaz now.

Soap continues his movements, pulling it over a broken nose -

The dumb ass whips his helmeted head forward, knocking Ghost's head back. They both slam into the wall -

It hadn't had time to bruise.

If there weren’t so fucking many of them -

He reveals Ghost’s blond hair, only partially touched by gore. His hairline is stained red, but otherwise, his choppy hair is marred only by sweat. The knife had drawn across his lip, cutting across the scar already there that Soap had forgotten even existed. He’d kissed it and hadn’t even noticed it. He feels along the years old scar, tracing it along the bump across his nose. For someone who carried himself was a sharpness, every part of him was round. Even his personality, with the jokes he had ready at the drop of a hat and the smiles even his mask couldn’t hide. His eyes crinkle and there are smile lines that guide the blood down the sides of his face.

"Here." Soap pulls Simon's head onto his lap, running his fingers through his hair. "Ground isn't that comfortable."

Ghost is pinned. The fucker who'd busted his nose presses against his throat with a meaty arm, trying his damnedest to stab his knife into his face. His two friends have a hold of his arms -

Soap gathers him up until Simon's head is under his chin. He holds his chest with one hand and with the other, presses his insides back in, holding the sticky oozing mess. It wouldn't do much, but it's better than nothing until the medics arrive.

The guy on his left catches his jaw with his knife again. He jerks away, feeling the blade cut deeply into his face. It cuts across his lip (Johnny kissed him there) down his chin (where his hand had softly thumbed across) nicking his throat. Not nicking. The man slips it across, cutting into cloth and flesh alike (they were one before him). Blood explodes into his mouth, already he struggles to keep his consciousness. But he pushes. He fucking fights and spits it in their fucking faces -

“Soap.” Price’s voice isn’t on his radio anymore. Boots stop, standing next to him. “Fucking hell.” He drops next to him, his hand hovering over Simon’s chest, where Soap has been holding their hands together. He’s waiting for Simon to squeeze it back.

“We need to go.” Gaz’s voice floats towards them. That softness brings a burning wetness to his eyes. He brushes the droplets from Simon’s cheeks. “Do we…” The question lingers.

“We take him with us.” Price reaches for them both, sliding his hands underneath Simon’s shoulders. His head lulls to the side. No conscious reaction on his part. He’d have to spend some time in hospital. Bastard would be bored out of his skull.

Price lifts.

“No, no, no, no, no-”

“Gaz,” Price stops, “take care of Soap.”

“...Right.”

Soap’s friends, rip them apart. He struggles weakly as Gaz lugs him to his unsteady feet. How long had he been sitting there with Simon?

Price settles Simon on the ground and reaches for something in his pack. He pulls out a roll of white bandage. Slowly, he wraps it around the trench in his soldier’s torso. He ties the now red cloth tightly. Price picks him up, placing an arm under his armpits. Simon’s head falls to his chest and his legs hang limp. He’s so small, like a child who’d fallen asleep in the car and Price is his father, bringing him to his room because he doesn’t have the heart to wake him up.

“You’re gonna be alright, Simon.” Soap brushes his shoulder as Price walks by.

—

Simon is afraid.

Eyes wide, he chokes on his own blood. He drowns in it. It’d taken three men, but he truly couldn’t fight back anymore.

There’s no physical fight. His mind goes a million miles an hour.

He’d promised Johnny they’d go on that second date.

(A hand on his face shoves his head into the wall.)

He still hadn’t decided where he would take him.

(Ghost lodges a knife in one man’s face. Two left.)

Maybe an actual dinner. Not that beer and a shooting range were terrible.

(He kicks, knocking one attacker backwards. Ghost follows, stumbling then falling flat on his face.)

He hadn’t been on a date in a long time before him.

(He can’t move. Can’t even see anymore. But he tries. He stumbles to his feet. He meets another knife directly in his gut. It’s not the first time.)

I’m sorry, Johnny.

—

There aren’t many people at the funeral. 141, Alejandro and Rudy, Laswell and her wife, Alex and Farah.

They bury him next to his family. Soap hadn’t known about them. He would have liked to. His mom, his brother, his sister-in-law, his nephew.

There’s a photo with a wreath of flowers. He focuses on the pink carnations, yellow chrysanthemums, and white mountain avens. When Laswell had presented it at the beginning of this shitty day, Soap had laughed, a choking one, but a laugh nonetheless. Had she purposely chosen a Scottish flower to adorn Simon’s visage. And that damn picture – Price’s idea. It’s old and Soap’s never seen it before. It’s cropped from an old one where Simon stands next to price, unmasked, covered in dirt. He’d said it was from their first mission together.

Soap had taped a different picture to it. The one they’d taken in Las Almas hangs off the frame. Simon has his mask, but that’s how he’d known him.

It took three fucking days before Soap bolted up in bed and realised that he’s gone. Even now, watching a casket, paid for by everyone, sink into the ground, doesn’t seem like the truth. Gaz stands by his side, switching between talking too much and not talking at all. He’ll say something, see Soap’s face, then stop, not to speak for another hour or so. And Price, he didn’t say anything at all until a priest Simon definitely never visited steps aside. The captain coughs into his hand. Soap doesn’t hear a word of it. Everything becomes silent until Gaz touches his shoulder. “It’s your turn, mate.”

Right, he was supposed to be speaking. He squeezes the notecards in his hands. He’d written some things. Mainly curses and death threats towards Makarov and himself. He shoves them in his pocket and steps up to the front of the casket. He wipes his nose.

It’s hot as shit out. He sweats through his uniform, wearing chest candy (as Simon liked to calm them. He never wore his even though he had them). Then he adjusts his hat before ripping it off entirely and strangling it in his hands.

“I didn’t know him. None of us did. Except maybe Price,” he nods to him, finally noting the redness surrounding his eyes. He’d planned all this while Soap sat uselessly in an armchair, nursing wounds that never made themselves physical. “But I wanted to. So fucking much,” He bites his hat, failing to stifle the sob. He looks to the photo. Simon’s face, surrounded by bright flowers. He’d never known that man. He wasn’t who they were burying.

“That Friday, we were supposed to go out. Somewhere off base, we hadn’t decided.” Price’s eyes widened. He hadn’t known and they probably weren’t going to tell him and have to deal with all the red tape. Besides, what if it hadn’t gone anywhere? “But sometimes, you just know. I know I wanted to be with him just like he knew he wanted to be here, with us at the 141. And he still is,” Soap points to his breaking chest, where he’d held Simon’s head against him, “As long as we all keep fighting and loving him.”

He’s rambling. So Soap fishes out the notecards. “He’d probably want this. Not the funeral,” he gestures around, “but this. They say time flies like an arrow-” It had for them. One date and that was it. One kiss was all they got. “But fruit flies-” He chokes, coughing into his hand. Everyone watches. He clears his throat again, longing to be able to breathe properly, knowing he could only do it if his lieutenant was still here. “Fruit flies like a banana. Fucking awful.”

Soap steps forward and tucks the notecard into the lid until it disappears.

They put him in the ground after that.

Soap or Simon, he wasn’t sure.

Also shared this on my ao3 (linked above)

Edit: whoever read this when it was doubled up, I love you. I don't know how that happened but now it's fixed.

[octoberland]

In Memoriam

This post is personal in nature and discusses my spiritual beliefs with mentions of death. I have followers here for many different reasons including fandom, writing, and real life. I don't have the time or the spoons to separate out content so you get all of me, for better or for worse. Just skip this if this kind of thing bothers you.

Many of you here know that I am Lokean. I felt drawn to Loki when I was young but it wasn't until several years ago that I finally dedicated myself to him/them. I have re-dedicated myself to him/them every year since then.

I have obsessive qualities in my nature and so when I first embarked on this journey I scoured the internet learning. I read books and blogs. I watched Youtube videos and Instagram content. I learned a lot but I also felt disconnected from much of it. Everyone was so SERIOUS. And yes, I take my faith seriously. But I also believe in not taking oneself too seriously, and I feel like Loki agrees with that.

So not too long ago - maybe a couple of years ago - I found a Youtube channel: Why So Sirious. Here was this older woman, with this sort of nasally and yet somehow comforting voice, posting gaming and music and card drawings, all while surrounded by plushies and butterfly stickers and talking about all sorts of things Lokean and Heathen and Norse. She was inclusive and funny and exuded a warmth that had been lacking in other spaces I'd searched in for community.

I subscribed to her channel and watched faithfully. My favorites were her card draws and her discussions and meditation videos. She made me feel connected to Loki in a way I hadn't before. For the first time I felt like there was someone else out there who understood my spiritual journey and wouldn't judge me for it.

I never interacted with her. And I never sought out other places she lived online. Honestly? It just didn't occur to me to do that. I was happy with the content I was seeing. I didn't feel a need to look for more. I regret that now.

In order for this story to make sense I need to backtrack a little.

On Samhain of this year I re-dedicated myself to Loki. This is something I do every year. But something was different this year. Not too long before I re-dedicated I felt him slip away. I don't know why. It just felt like he wasn't with me any more. I knew from my research that this could happen. Sometimes he only stays with people long enough to incite necessary change in their life. Sometimes he just gets busy. He is a deity, after all. I had always heard that he would never leave a devotee without the care of another deity but I did not feel the presence of another. So I surmised that he would be back someday. I chose to re-dedicate myself despite his absence because I had faith that he would return. I spent the next several weeks continuing my daily practices, holding this faith.

This past weekend I had a quiet weekend. That's pretty normal for me. Some weekends are super busy and others are very quiet. I spent the weekend home alone just relaxing and watching stuff. On Saturday I felt an urge to cry several times that day. I didn't know why. Nothing bad had happened. I wasn't depressed. The urge to cry was completely at odds with how I was feeling and what I was doing.

I also felt Loki return on Saturday. I can't explain it. It's just a feeling. For weeks I felt "empty". Then, suddenly, I felt full. Full of his light and his presence and his voice. I was overjoyed, practically bouncing up and down all day long. And yet I felt that urge to cry. It was with me Sunday too.

Then today. Today was nothing special. I overslept. I got up and took care of the animals. I made myself some tea. For lunch I sat on my couch and put on Youtube. This is something I do as often as I can. It's a way for me to slow down and eat in the moment instead of inhaling food in front of my computer. I scrolled through my subscription content looking for something to watch. And there it was. A voice video explaining that Kitty had died. I never even knew her name until that video.

Everything clicked into place after that. I learned that she had passed on Saturday. The same day I began feeling like crying. The same day Loki returned to me.

I have spent all day today crying off and on in earnest. Which I feel slightly ashamed of doing because I never once exchanged a single comment with this person. But she had such a positive impact on my life. And I regret it now. She'll never know how much she helped me or how included she made me feel.

I am very struck by the void this will leave in my life. She filled a much needed role. I feel as though I have no else to talk to even though I never actually talked to her. But connection happens in all sorts of way. And we communicated in a way, her as guide and me as a student of sorts.

I spent a lot of time today thinking about Loki's absence and return, the timing of everything. A part of me thought he came back to comfort me during this time, but that's hubris. Even gods need comfort. Maybe he came back because her death is a loss for him too. Maybe he just wants to feel close to all of us right now.

Tomorrow is the start of Loki Fest. I am hoping I have enough time to make some connections there.

Anyway, all of this really is to say that the Lokean community lost a bright and loving voice this weekend. I am so incredibly saddened by this loss. My heart goes out to her partner and to all other community members affected.

And to Loki. Always, to Loki.

Fire is destructive. But it's also cleansing. And death is but transformation. Painful, yet beautiful.

I can hear Kitty now, from the other side. Well, hello there...

[vulpixen]

Week One: Mystery

Summary: This story takes place in the Mystery Dungeon AU I’ve been working on for a while and hold dear to my heart.  For this first, it takes place in the Mystery Dungeon AU where everyone is a pokemon. Stan and Ford are Alolan and Kantoian Meowth's respectively and their parents Filbrick and Caryn are a Perserker and Kantoian Persian, and Shermie is a Perserker. How I interpret it as what kind of pokemon they are is determined by genetics and not by game mechanics. Depending on a pokemon's ancestry can determine what pokemon will be born. Other characters such as my ocs Andrea Pereira and Lucina Evergreen are here, too, and they are an Eevee and Shiny Kanotian Vulpixen respectively. Hope this explains things and enjoy this for Week One of @stanuary and onwards! Chapter 1 is here on AO3, too.

Team Mystery

Stan, a young Alolan Meowth, awoke early in the morning and would nudge his twin to wake from his sleep, eager to get up and go for this particular day. The day they start a new adventure.

“Sixer, wake up!” the young Alolan Meowth urged his Kantoian counterpart.

“Mrow!” Ford yowled. “What, Stanley?” He rubbed his tired eyes with a six-toed paw.

“Today’s the day we’re gonna start our explorers team! Team Mystery!” Despite knowing him and his brother aren’t old enough to become a professional, recognized adventure team by the Explorer’s Guild standard’s, yet, that wasn’t going to stop Stan and his brother from getting a start at it. Ford’s lips formed a bright smile as he put on his glasses and leaped down from his bed. Stan hoped one day to meet the founder and leader himself to work with. Stan pulls out the carrying case from under the bed that contains the items they think they’ll need for this adventure they have planned. Once they find something to do, that is.

The two have their breakfast and leave a note for their parents to find, taking some berries and other food for later before heading out the door and outside into the streets. The beach town was bustling with pokemon going about their own business, most of them being water types given the town is by the ocean on the east coast.

Stan and Ford were making their way to the local bulletin board just outside of the Peliper Postal Office when a thought occurred with Stan.

“Oh wait! We forgot to invite Andy and Lucy!” Stan just remembered their Eevee and Shiny Vulpix friends who make their team complete. Stan was over the moon when the girls accepted his and Ford’s offer to become part of their unofficial team. And since it was summer, Lucy would be around for their summer adventures. He’d hate to leave the two out of their adventures in exploring, rescuing and seeking out treasure.

Thankfully, Ford seemed to find the two ahead of them when he pointed at them.

“Seems like they got a head start.” Stan and Ford go up to the two who were looking at the bulletin board, scanning for the tasks they’re able to do and succeed in. Each job ranked from letters E to S, S being the highest and way beyond what the four are capable of.

“Hey, girls!” Stan greeted.

“Stan! Ford!” Andrea greeted the two meowths, her tail wagging in eagerness. “Me and Lucy managed to get here first! Think we can solve some mysteries around here.” Lucy pointing at the jobs listed. This piques the twin’s interests as they scan the board and see which ones seem more interesting and can get them more rewards. Stan slapped at the C level job that’s within their area.

“We can do this one!” Stan pulled the entry down that reads: ‘ Can someone find my basket? I lost it somewhere in Question Mark Cove. Will reward 400 coins. ’ Ford gave an affirming nod.

“Question Mark Cove? I think we can manage a trip there. I believe it's only ten levels down.”

“Perfect! We find this basket and get my – I mean our money. Split it evenly.” Andrea giggled, figuring Stan may take more of the share. Lucina rolled her eyes, but she was looking forward to exploring a cove.

“Ascot, look what we have here!” directed a Minun named Dicky to his Plusle brother as they approached the board. “New jobs! And a couple of wannabe adventurers who don’t even have official badges!” The Sibling brothers were still sore about how Stan and Ford and Andrea got the better of them last summer.

“Hey! We’ll get ours one day.” pouted Andrea.  

“Yeah, go get your own jobs and shove off, sparkplugs.” Stan stuck his tongue out and pulled down his lower eyelid to mock them. The Sibling Brothers look at the group and let out a haughty laugh.

“Oh, we will. We’re going for something more… rewarding.” Dicky would leap up the bulletin board and retrieve a wanted poster of a criminal pokemon that appears to be a rough-looking Carrascosta. Ascot finished.

“Such as apprehending a criminal and collecting the bounty in Question Mark Cove.” The two leave laughing at the four dumbstruck pokemon behind to go off to fulfill the job. Stan was fuming as he couldn’t let this slide. He wasn’t going to let those jerks discourage him, his brother and friends.

“How ‘bout we go get that basket and get that bounty.” Ford, Lucina and Andrea gasped.

“Wait, what? We can’t do that. It’s something adults do, not us kids.” Lucina reasoned, scared about confronting a bigger and stronger pokemon they’re not prepared to face.

“Those two have no idea what they’re up against.” Ford watched the twins go towards the cove. They too were children as well. Stan mustered up the confidence to give the three and himself the morale they needed.

“Come on! With the four of us working together and using our moves, there’s nothing we can’t do. We’ll face whatever is down there and come back here to complete the job!” The three young pokemon looked between each other and smiled at Stan.

“We can give it a shot.” Ford approved, having a backup plan should things go south in having packed an escape orb.

Later down the Question Mark Cove…

The four pokemon managed to handle themselves against the opposing pokemon in the cove during their escapade down into the levels. They even managed to find the missing basket intact. However, they hadn’t seen the Sibling brothers since entering inside. Which Ford would point out.

“Do you think they’re in trouble? Wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“If the criminal got them, good riddance.” dismissed Stan. Something Lucina didn’t like.

“It would be wrong to just leave them alone down here to die.” Andrea sighed, seeing her friend speak true.

“Yeah, even if they are stupid jerks, they’re still kids like us.”

“Fine, let’s go find them.”

The four proceed down into the tenth and final floor of the cove and find what looks to be a makeshift hideout, no doubt belonging to the criminal, but no sign of the Sibling brothers. Stan and Ford call out for them.

“Hey! Dick and Asshole! Call out if you hear us!” Andrea giggled in response to Stan swearing.

“Did you catch the crook?”

They hear nothing for a second under loud, thundering footprints could be heard. It was the wanted Carracosta that goes by the name Crush the Undertow. His shell and maw riddled with visible scars from previous confrontations. He let out an uproar of laughter.

“Ye friends yer lookin’ fer are here no longer!” Crush lumbered over. “They turned their tails and ran off in fear of I, Crush the Undertow!” Stan and Ford growled, figuring the brothers would do something like this.

“Well we’re going to beat you ourselves!” challenged Stan and unsheathed his claws.

“Yeah, we’re not scared of you!” Andrea braced herself and her fur bristled. Ford and Lucina preparing for a fight.

Crush slapped his hard chest and bellowed.

“Then have at the, children! Give me a challenge! ”

It would be a challenging battle for the four young pokemon. Crush wasn’t holding back against the four, using his rock and water moves to get the upper hand. Stan, Ford, Lucina and Andrea have to act quick to try to dodge the attacks, and give it their all in turn. Ford didn’t have enough left to use against Crush, having used much of what they had and found throughout the cove. Ford could see they’re no match for this beast of a pokemon. Lucina having gotten knocked out upon getting hit against the wall, and Andrea getting her out to safety.

“We have to retreat!”

Crush targeted Ford and taunted.

“Ye not gonna run away like cowards are ye?!” Crush opened his mouth and released a high pressure amount of water at Ford. Stan would bound and leap to use his claws to deliver a strong swipe of his claws, aiming for the mouth and was successful, leading Crush to be off his aim. But it left Stan open to be attacked by Crush using his flipper to slam Stan against the wall and pin him there.

“Ya nicked me good, boy, but this ends now.”

Ford brought out the blast seed to use as a last resort to eat it, and unleashed a strong enough force to hit Crush and knock him down, releasing the injured Stan. Ford rushed over to help Stan up and give him an oran berry.

“Come on, Stan, get up.” Stan chewed and swallowed the rejuvenating berry that helped a little. “We need to go help the girls and tell the Magezone Chief about this.” Stan nodded at his brother, a lot ringing in his mind and thinking this could have gone better.

They hear steps coming towards them and it was none other than the Sibling Brothers, never having left. The plusle and minun clapping their paws.

“Well done!”

“Yes, very good! You defeated the crook in our place.” Stan and Ford glared at the two.

“You… you cowards! You got us to fight your battle so you can claim credit! You two could have taken him down with being electric types.” Dickie and Ascot would scoff, not having shame in it.

“And you did a fine job.”

“Saved us the trouble without using up our own resources to do it. Let us offer a deal.” Ascot presents. “You let us have this and we’ll put in a good word to have you and your team become a recognized rescue team with badges and everything from the Explorer’s Guild.”

“That is not what being an explorer is about, Sibling Brothers.” A strong voice spoke from behind them. The four boys turned to see a stoic Lucario and two of his teammates, a Pidgeot and Blissey, tending to Andrea and Lucina’s injuries. They heard everything admitted. “I’m immensely disappointed in you two for using others to fight your battles and perform your tasks, taking credit for their efforts while you’ve done none.” The plusle and minun cowered, fearing the worst was going to happen. And it does. “As the leader and founder of the Explorer’s Guild, I hereby strip you of your rank and badges, banished from the Explorer’s Guild henceforth.” He reached and opened his paw to take the badges away. Reluctantly, Dicky and Ascot relinquished their badges and carrying case and took a walk of shame out of the cove.

Stan and Ford were astonished by what just happened. The founder and leader himself, Ryland, along with his team to rescue them. Stan was relieved to see things were going to be okay, but feels guilty he got the girls and his brother into this mess.

Ryland turned to Stan and Ford. “We’ll take care of this, you and your friends need to be treated.” Stan and Ford nodded up and took their leave to get treated by the Blissey named Belle.

“Your friends sent out an SOS and we were the first to receive it,” Belle smiled as she bandaged up Lucina. “Good thing we did. You four were very brave.” Hearing that made Stan feel a bit better, but he felt guilt over endangering his brother and friends.

“I’m sorry, guys, we should have retreated sooner,” Stan lowered his head. Ford, Andrea and Lucina showed weak smiles.

“Don’t be down, Stan, things got messy and we turned out alive,” reassured Andrea. “And we found the basket to take back to the client looking for it.” The pidgeot named Soarin would offer.

“If I may, I can help deliver it swiftly and without delay. I assure you that I will give you four full credit for your efforts. What should I call your group?”

“Team Mystery,” the four young pokemon agreed.

The next day…

Stan and Ford are called from downstairs by their mom as they got a letter.

“Hey, boys! You have mail!” Their mother Caryn the Kantoian Persian smiled. “And from the Explorer’s Guild no less.”

“Wait, what?” Stan and Ford questioned. The two read the letter, and from what they determined, they are offered to join the Explorer’s Guild. In addition, some of the reward money that came from not only returning the basket to the client looking for it, but part of the bounty from apprehending the criminal carracosta. Stan couldn’t believe it. His dream was coming true.

“We can be official explorers! Badges and everything!” Stan beamed ear to ear. Ford liked the sound of that. “Team Mystery is in business!”

“I like the sound of that, Stan, but let’s stick with what we can handle before we aim for higher jobs.”

“It’s a deal, Sixer.” It was the beginning of a new adventure.

[silver-moon1]

Food and Beverage Industry

I think the changes taking place in the Food and Beverage industry are necessary improvements for those who truly care about their health and the food that goes into their body. I can not believe how much processed foods can affect our bodies and minds. "Buying processed foods can lead to people eating more than the recommended amounts of sugar, salt and fat as they may not be aware of how much has been added to the food they are buying and eating. These foods can also be higher in calories due to the high amounts of added sugar or fat in them."

People like to think that the reason for obesity in America has no definite answer as to why it is occurring. America's chronic weight problem and health related illnesses are often blamed on the consumption of too much food and not enough exercise. But why is it that no one questions what is in the food we are eating? Isn't that the underlying cause of it all? Foods such as sugary soft drinks, baked goods, chips, burgers, and fries trigger a compulsive consumption, can have mood-altering effects, and create addictive urges to continue to buy the products/continue eating (binging). We need to investigate the food industry and why these addictive properties are in our food. We need to care less about profits and more about our wellbeing and health in America.

I tend to go for restaurants that have a wide variety of options. Whether that be healthy or not. The most important factor to me would be the transparency aspect of ingredients and freshness of the food being presented to me. I also love a good photo opp so if the environment is cool that is a bonus.

I have tried a Farm to Fork restaurant and found that even when I had a greasy fried chicken sandwich it didn't leave me feeling heavy and gross like some other restaurants do. It is all due to the ingredients and process in which it is made. I appreciate that more restaurants are focusing their efforts on delivering products like these.

Since the pandemic occurred I emphasized the importance of cooking homemade meals in my life. There are many benefits of cooking at home. Such as being able to know exactly what is going in your food and it can act as an outlet to stress relief as well. I try to make something that I haven't before or make changes to a recipe I use weekly. I like to switch it up and keep improving on my skills. That being said, I don't prefer to subscribe to the food box companies. While it is convenient and cost effective, I like to plan, prep, and shop for my own groceries and dinners.

Some things I could see changing in the F&B industry include:

An increase of health conscious consumers/businesses

Decrease of unhealthy fast food service

More people buying organic food products

More people buying plant based food products

More people reading the labels on food products BEFORE making a purchase

Buying foods that are locally grown, produced, and sourced

Buying foods at farmers markets

More people planting gardens

Cooking homemade meals/learning how to cook at home

Lastly, school boards creating meal plans that provide healthy lunches for kids

[nonobadcat]

Imagine AFO stealing a bunny(not rabbit) Quirk, and giving it to his pretty little wife so he’ll not only be able to pet his wife’s soft dangling ears, but his wife will end up having the urge to *ahem* multiply like bunnies.Thought that he might do that since he stole that wolf Quirk.

For those that don't know: the stolen wolf quirk Yokai mentioned is from chapters 20 and 36 of my 18+ only Fem!reader x yandere All For One story - "A Hypnotic Nightmare".

So we're talking fuwa-fuwa bunny girls, right?

If we're going for "long dangly ears" I would vote for the French lop. English lop ears are so long I could see them getting in the way AFO's proclivities and I'm not sure a man who stands 225cm tall should be giving his wife a dwarf bunny quirk like a Holland lop. Even with a size kink, that sounds... painful.

In the context of a yandere AFO, a bunny quirk makes a lot of sense. Bunnies are a highly social species. It's recommended that they be pair housed and families should not to leave them alone much longer than 4 hours without a friend or activity. Isolating someone under the influence of a quirk like that would be very effective at breaking them down so he can mold them to his tastes.

That said, sexually intact rabbits aren't always super friendly when they get hormonal. Since you are clearly not spayed in this scenario, I see AFO getting bit/scratched a lot.

So here is this man who has the world's most touchable waifu and you (said waifu) are suddenly much more violent towards him.

Cue AFO on the Google at 2am reading this:

"...Interact with your bunny every day so that they become your friend and will not see you as a threat entering their territory. Remember, your bunny is not being naughty or nasty, they are just trying to protect themselves. The best training tip is to use reward-based training in these situations. Never punish a bunny as it is confusing as she is only doing what is natural in protecting herself and it is likely to increase aggression. If your bunny won’t come near you, you’ll have to persuade her that coming to you is a really good thing. The easiest way is with food rewards..."

Can you imagine how this is gonna go? (≧ε≦)

You buried yourself behind the comforter, knees pulled tight to your chest. Blood shot eyes stared blankly at the sight before you.

"What are you doing?"

Sprawled across the plush bedroom carpet, your demonic captor gazed up at you though half lidded eyes. Clasped between the tips of his fingers, a piece of dried papaya taunted you.

"It occurs to me that been very neglectful of your new body's needs, my sweet pet." He leaned forward, stretching out his thick arm towards your dubious scowl. The scratches you'd given him last night lay red and puffy across his pale wrist. "It's quiet understandable that you'd be upset with me."

Oh? He really though that was why you were upset?

Being kidnapped and locked away in All For One's apartment had been its own nightmare before he forced the bunny quirk on you. It'd been one week since you woke up to long, velvety ears and a burning desire to dig up the carpet. Seeing your new rounder, softer features in the mirror was bad enough without your captor's lecherous leer burning down your neck. Glancing brushes against your cotton tail sent shivers up your spine. Greedy fingers pinched your cheeks and rubbed your ears at every opportunity while their master cooed on and on about how utterly touchable you were.

Whenever he reached out to pet you, you clawed him for his hubris. However, the way his laughter chased you from room to room left you with the distinct impression the violence only turned him on.

Though it all, the sadistic All For One revealed in the hell he'd thrust upon you.

Sure... your new bunny tummy seemed at odds with your tongue. Yes, many of your favorite foods now brought nothing but cramping and pain. Of course you'd want something to eat that didn't feel like trial by fire.

...but if he thought papaya bribes would fix the problem, he had another thing coming.

Your nose twitched. "You cannot be serious."

The white haired man shuffled closer, bringing the fruit within snapping distance of your mouth. "Try it. It's deli~cious ❤," he insisted in a cheerful sing-song.

Fuzzy ears pinned back across your skull as your eyes narrowed. A deep, stomach growl rippled across the room. Heat filled your cheeks.

All For One's knowing smile stretched one tooth wider.

Tentative fingers crept out towards the glossy treat. Your fur bristled. Eyes locked on the predator, you pinched the papaya from his grasp and fixed him with a sideways stare.

Red eyes glowed with pleasure. "Go on," he purred. "Try it."

Brining the chewy fruit to your lips, you nibbled one corner of the slice. Tangy sweet burst across your tongue. Your eyes popped wide as the flavor set your salivary glands ablaze. Pleasure rippled down your arms. All at once, you shoved the entire piece into your mouth.

"That's a good girl," you captor purred, holding out a second piece.

The seductive lilt in his words sent a cold drop of sweat rolling down your neck. With a pinched throat, you barely managed to swallow the fruit. "W-what are you up to?" you demanded.

He waved the next piece. "Desensitization to my presence and counter-conditioning to your lack of trust in me."

You snatched it from his hand and stared at him from below your lashes. Voice soft, you pleaded with him again: "If you want my trust, then let me go home."

He cocked his head, the edges of his grin pulling taunt. "You are home, pet."

You shivered, turning your body away from his hungry gaze.

He hummed, rising to his feet with a languid stretch. "Well, three years on a stone, I suppose."

As demon lord opened the bedroom door, he turned back to you with a teasing sneer. "Rabbits are social creatures, so do let me know when you start to feel lonely again. I'll be happy to give you all the affection you crave." Crimson heat flashed in his eyes. "In fact, be happy to accommodate all of your new body's urges."

Before you could say a word, the door to freedom clicked shut.

[sehunniepotwrites]

THE MIDNIGHT SHIFT | J.JH

SYNOPSIS. Working as a pediatric nurse in a busy hospital has both its pros and cons. Some of the pros include: working with children, saving lives, and working alongside the extremely charming and surprisingly single Dr. Jeong Jaehyun. Some of the cons include: not having enough time to date, getting baby fever while being undeniably single, developing a crush on a co-worker, and being called into work on the one holiday you were granted off. Your dreams of ringing in the new year at a lavish party with a boy to kiss were ruined by the night shift but at least you had Dr. Jeong to keep you company when the clock strikes twelve.

PAIRING. Jeong Jaehyun x (f) reader GENRE. Hospital!AU | New Year’s Eve!AU | Fluff | Comedy | Pediatric Doctor!Jaehyun | Pediatric Nurse!Y/N WARNINGS. hospital setting (there may be inaccurate descriptions!); needles (doctors and nurses administering shots); mentions of alcohol and food consumption, blood, death (no one dies! no one even comes close to dying, i promise!); language WORD COUNT. 4.9k+

PLAYLIST. Kiss Me at Midnight - NSYNC

CHOOSING TO PURSUE A CAREER IN NURSING WAS A NO-BRAINER FOR YOU.

You were always willing to help others whenever it was needed. You never shied away from blood or injuries while growing up; instead, you were curious about cleaning wounds and how stitches worked. You became addicted to hospital-based shows such as Grey’s Anatomy and Hospital Playlist, even though you came for the setting and stayed for the never-ending drama. You even liked visiting the hospital when other kids your age hated it, always asking the nurses and doctors an abundance of questions and eagerly waiting for their answers. Your entire family didn’t even bat an eyelash when you declared nursing as your major.

They weren’t shocked when you chose Pediatrics as your concentration either. Everyone knew how much you loved children. They saw how your eyes lit up while spending time with them and they all knew how you wanted one someday. They always thought your long shifts at the hospital prevented you from dating and starting your own family. Your cousins often suggested finding someone at work to date but you shrugged it off, stating how dating a coworker would be complicated.

But that didn’t mean the thought never crossed your mind.

It was just hard to find someone you were interested in. Someone that was within reach. Those conversations always ended due to the younger members of the family calling for your attention.

During family parties, you were always found at the kid’s table, making sure all of them had their plates filled with food. And even though you were the nurse of the family, you were the one who snuck an abundance of sweets to the little ones when they asked for it. Saying no to their puppy dog pouts and wide eyes was quite the challenge for you.

As was saying “no” in general.

This is why you are the go-to person to call in the peds ward when people called out.

This is how you ended up scrubbing in at Seoul National University Hospital on the night of New Year’s Eve.

You received the call at 9:30 pm. You arrived at a gala with your university friends—people you hadn’t seen in months due to your busy schedule—an hour and a half before your phone rang. The urge to resist the call was strong but your weak heart couldn’t go through with it.

What if something happened and the ward was understaffed? What if a child passed before being given an equal chance at life?

Your job was to save them and sure, you can’t save them all but you can always try your best to do so.

With a sigh, you answered the call with a tired smile and assured them you would be on-site by 11:00 pm when the usual shift started. After calculating the time it would take you to travel home to change and then take the metro to work, you decided to skip going home altogether. You were smart enough to always leave an extra set of shoes, scrubs, and a stethoscope in your locker in case something like this were ever to occur. Apologizing to your friends and the guy you were dancing with, you strode out the door and took the next bus that led straight to the hospital.

And now here you are in the locker room, getting ready to clock in right as the clock strikes eleven. Many of your coworkers leaving for the night greeted you with pity when they took in your appearance—a short off-the-shoulder number decorated by sequins with a matching pair of black stilettos—knowing that you got called in to take over someone else’s shift. They had invited you out earlier this week but you denied them because of your plans with your school friends. You brushed their looks aside, telling them to take a shot on your behalf before they all rushed out to the closest bar.

Now alone in the room, you quickly change out of your party outfit and use the small mirror attached to the door to check your nicely done makeup. Another sigh escapes your usually plain lips now rogued with a darker plum shade as you pull your styled hair out of your face. At least it matches your maroon scrubs, you think to yourself as you shut the door closed.

The walk from the locker room to the nurse's station of the pediatric ward is a short one and you see a couple of your friends minding the computers. You smile at Jaemin before whacking Chenle across the back of the head. 

The youngest lets out a yelp of pain before glaring at you, “I thought you were off tonight.” He takes a minute to examine your face. “Damn, you went all out too, huh?”

Sliding behind the desk, you grab charts to look over. “That’s what I thought until I got a call from scheduling. Whoever called out, your mom’s a hoe.”

Jaemin looks up at you with a flirty smile. “But hey, at least you look hot.”

The laugh you let out echoes throughout the seemingly empty hallway. “Oh yeah, I feel so hot with this face full of makeup and my ugly scrubs.”

Chenle smirks from behind his screen. “Dr. Jeong would think you’re hot. Just saying.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, resting your forehead on top of a chart. “Why do you keep bringing him up? I just got here.”

Your friend’s smirk only grows wider. “Because he’s the on-call resident for tonight.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about something that’s clearly on the board?”

Your head immediately shifts to the scheduling board behind the station, where your name—along with Jaemin, Chenle, Renjun, two other nurses, and Dr. Jeong Jaehyun—is clearly up for display. Your eyes stay glued to the board while your mind tries to decide whether this shift is a blessing or a curse.

Dr. Jeong Jaehyun is one of the older residents in SNU and by far one of the more handsome doctors on staff. He somehow makes a lab coat, an ugly pair of blue scrubs, and sneakers look like they came off the runway. Even when his thick, brown hair is unkempt and his pale skin is stained by the puffy dark circles under his eyes, the man still resembles a model. It feels extremely unfair to work in the same department as him. And if his looks do not charm you, then his way with all his patients will.

Dr. Jeong, with his dimpled smile and calming voice, was born for pediatrics. That, you witnessed for yourself back when you were new to this hospital.

Before even working a shift with him, you had heard about Jaehyun from the other nurses. But when you actually saw Dr. Jeong for the first time, he knocked your socks off with his pretty smile. “Nurse Y/N, right? So, you’re the newbie, huh?”

“It seems so, sir,” you replied with a little tremble in your voice, clearly affected by his looks.

Your hand shook while handing over the chart for his first patient of the day—a baby with the cutest toothhless grin that needed their first vaccines. 

Where was the confidence you usually carried? You were the best charge nurse at your old job, so why would a pretty-faced doctor phase you like this?

“No need to be so formal with me, you know?” Jaehyun laughed as he looked over the file.

With quick strides, he reached the door to his office and opened it. He stepped aside with a quirk of his thick brow and a nod towards the hallway, allowing you to step out first. “Shall we?”

“Yes, sir,” you answered automatically. “I mean, Dr. Jeong.”

His laugh was as charming as his smile. “Lead the way, Y/N.”

Why did your name sound so different coming from his lips? Why was your face heating up?

The path to his patient’s room was short, only three doors down from his office. As you set everything up for the vaccines he had to administer, Jaehyun took the time to introduce himself to the family and the baby. You saw the way his eyes scrunched up into little curves when his patient looked his way and heard how his usually deep voice jumped an octave when speaking to the child. The sight was incredibly endearing, it was almost too hard to look away from it.

When the time came to give the shots, the parents were scared about their child’s reaction but Dr. Jeong simply shook his head and told them not to worry. You handed the first vile to him wordlessly as he began to playfully call the patient’s name and tickle them in random spots. He went from poking their cheeks, to their chubby little arms, and their legs several times, causing the child to laugh out loud before, seamlessly poking the needle into the fatty area of their thigh. The action was so sudden, the baby didn’t notice the first time around.

“It’s going to get a little more difficult after the first one,” Dr. Jeong warned, telling the mother to hold her baby a little tighter.

He continued on, warping his handsome face into silly ones that made everyone in the room chuckle, including yourself. You were too caught up in your laughter to notice him smiling up at you before amping up the silliness.

Jaehyun went through the routine one more time, poking here and there, before sinking a needle into his patient’s thigh. As the baby cried, he never faltered through the thrashing kicks. Instead, he placed a colorful bandaid on top of the puncture before distracting the child with a giraffe plushie he had in the room. With a few tickles to their tiny feet and a tiny bit of time with the giraffe, the baby was able to calm down immediately and the sight made your heart skip a beat. The amused and distracted coos of the child gave Dr. Jeong time to smoothy wrap up the appointment before you were off to tend to his next patient together.

“How are you so good with children?” you asked him in between your rounds, clearly amazed at how smoothly his first appointment went. You had never seen a doctor administer shots that quickly before. It was admirable.

“Well, I am a pediatric doctor, aren’t I?” Jaehyun joked as he walked down the hallway. Although he was taller and could walk at a faster pace, he kept in time with your shorter legs. When others in the ward greeted him, he always nodded back with a kind smile. And you noticed his eyes lighting up every time a child would grin his way.

“Right.” You immediately went back to the charts in your hand. What a stupid thing to ask.

But still, he answered your question with a proud little quirk of his mouth. “I’m an only child but I grew up taking care of my younger cousins.”

“Me too.” It seemed like you had something in common.

The conversation was interrupted by a kid running straight into his legs, wrapping her small arms around his knees. The impact nearly knocked the doctor off his feet. With your quick reflexes, you slipped your hand on his back to keep your coworker steady.

“Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Dr. Jeong said to you before scooping the girl up into his arms and propping her weight on his hips. “What are you doing here, little one?”

The girl in his hold didn’t reply. She merely giggled and poked him right where his dimple was. A taller figure, who you assumed was the child’s mom, replied to his question instead. “We were in the area and came to drop off some lunch for you, Jae. The nurses up front said we could find you around here. Plus, Eunji missed her favorite cousin.”

“Is that right, Eunji?” Jaehyun asked playfully before tickling her stomach with a flurry of noises. The little girl grinned at him before snuggling into his neck. Her little hands toyed with the stethoscope draped over his shoulders.

It was a cute sight to see but you didn’t know what to do at this point. You merely stood by awkwardly as the interaction continued, debating on whether you should stay or go.

Jaehyun calling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and you perked up. “Yes?”

He quickly introduced you to his aunt before turning his full attention to the child who happily stayed in his hold. “And this little princess here is my cousin, Eunji. Can you say hi to my friend, baby?”

Eunji’s small palm waved at you and you scrunched your nose cutely before smiling widely back at her. “It’s very nice to meet you, Eunji. We were just talking about you.”

Adjusting her in his hold, Jaehyun pushed for his younger cousin to answer you. “And what do you say, baby?”

Her voice was muffled from how her cheek pressed against Jaehyun’s wide shoulder. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Good girl,” Dr. Jeong praised her before placing a quick peck on her cheek. There went another pang to your little heart. Men who were good with children were your weakness and it only heightened your baby fever. And your status as single. How sad.

You played with her for a few moments before Jaehyun put her down. “Sorry to cut our time short but I have to go back to work now, bud, but I’ll call your mommy so we can talk later, okay?” His aunt and cousin left soon after that but not without shoving a large bag of takeout into his hands.

He examined the food, eyebrows scrunching at the amount given to him. “Would you like to share this with me later? It’s a lot, even for me.”

You shook your head, not wanting to impose. “No, it’s okay. I was planning on buying food from the cafeteria.”

“I insist,” Dr. Jeong pushed. “Your break will be the same time as mine, right? Why don’t we meet in my office and eat together? I’d like to get to know you a little more.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. How ‘bout I put this back in my office first and then meet you in the next room? It’s the patient in 214A, right?” When he smiled one last time, you were sure you were a goner. Not even a full week into your new job and you were crushing on the most-sought out resident doctor of your ward.

Fast forward to the present, one would notice that your crush never went away. Instead, it grew into a thing your other nurse friends teased you about. Jaemin and Chenle tease you ruthlessly while Renjun, who is currently making his rounds, is more lenient with you.

You break your stare with the board and bang your head repeatedly on the countertop.

You were looking forward to the night where you could forget about your ridiculous crush. Your friends were dead-set on finding a pretty stranger to lock lips and maybe spend the night with. They even had men lined up for you to choose from; ones that expressed interest in you in the past. Tonight was the night to pursue a fling but here you are, far from doing it.

Tonight, you are stuck with three of your nurse friends—two of which annoyed you to oblivion—and a small bottle of peach soju hidden underneath the nurse’s station.

At least you have friends to ring in the new year with.

At least you aren’t alone, you try to convince yourself.

But still, you find yourself disappointed.

“Be back here five minutes to midnight so we can, you know,” Chenle stops talking and finishes the sentence with a gesture. He pretends to take a shot with the click of his tongue and you nod before beginning your rounds.

Though many nurses prefer morning and mid shifts, you haven’t decided on what hours you preferred to work. At times, you enjoy the morning and afternoon work days because you’re running on adrenaline. You can easily meet your daily step goals on your Apple Watch with the daytime flow.

Other times, you prefer the hush of the night. Noises filter in here and there from the children in your ward but it doesn’t bother you one bit. No higher-ups or visitors are stressing you out. You can check for breathing, administer meds, and other patient problems in peace. You can quickly answer call bells without being stopped to do another task. It’s still as busy but it’s calmer.

Maybe this time, you’ll be able to find which you’d rather work.

As your shift carries on, you work endlessly on your tasks until you check the time. Your first hour is almost over and midnight is only fifteen minutes away. Before the craziness of the new year begins, you decide to take a moment to sit on the stairwell that faces the cityscape. The bright lights flashing in the night sky bleed through the windows and you wish you were out there to be among them, surrounded by your precious friends. Your arms could be wrapped around your dance partner from earlier and your lips may be gearing up for a kiss to ring in the new year.

So much for checking that off your bucket list.

The door to the stairwell opens and you glance up to find Dr. Jeong with a surprised look on his face. “Oh, you’re here? I thought you weren’t scheduled today.”

“You and me both, Doc.” You shrug before facing the window again. It didn’t even occur to you that he knew your schedule.

The doctor takes it as an invitation to sit beside you on the same step. He suddenly feels too close, with his arm resting right beside yours. You feel his eyes on you, grazing over your figure. You continue to stare at the landscape, not knowing what to do or say, as his soft gaze lingers on your face.

“Did you have plans?” Jaehyun asks, resting his chin on his palm.

How many times have you sighed tonight thinking about your plans? “I was actually at a gala like two hours ago until I got called in, hence the hair and makeup.”

“Oh, I see,” he replies. It’s silent for a moment. “Guess your date’s a little disappointed you left early, huh?”

You can’t help but snort at his assumptions. “Oh yeah, my non-existent date is totally sad I ditched him for work.”

You fail to notice how Dr. Jeong’s body perks up just a bit at your comment. He hopes the smile he’s biting back isn’t too obvious. “So no date?”

“Nope,” you say, stressing the ‘p’ at the end. “I did find a guy to dance with, though. Kinda cute. A potential candidate for my midnight kiss but now I’m here.”

You clench your fists to stop yourself from revealing anything else. Running your mouth around your crush is not a good idea nor a good way to start anew. It’s a terrible start. You needed to stop.

“And now you’re here,” he repeats.

You glance at the Apple Watch around your wrist and note the time. “Five minutes to January 1st and I am partnerless, without anyone to kiss. Guess crossing that off the bucket list will have to wait another year,” you laugh to yourself.

God damn it, why are you still talking? Are you trying to make the hottest doctor alive throw you a pity party? Are you still intoxicated? The alcohol you consumed at the party should have already flushed through your system.

You need to leave the stairwell.

Being alone with Jaehyun is doing things to your brain and your body and you’re not too fond of his effect on you. He has your heart racing and your face flushing. You’re sure your temperature has shot up a few degrees. Renjun, Chenle, and Jaemin would deem you a lovesick nurse at this point. 

“Anyway, I should go. I told the guys I would be back at the station for the countdown.”

A light grip stops you as you get up to leave. You turn back to see Jaehyun’s hand wrapped around your wrist. He tilts his head, allowing you to catch a glimpse of reddening ears behind his thick strands, and asks, “Are you going to kiss any of them at midnight?”

You respond with the loudest laugh that echoes throughout the empty stairwell. You immediately clamp your palm over your mouth to muffle your hysterics. His comment leaves you wheezing, gasping for air, and eyes tearing up until you can take no more. “Oh my god! I don’t mean to laugh at you, Dr. Jeong, but Jesus. I could never—I mean never say never but, yeah, no thank you.”

“Sorry for assuming then.” The smile he gives you almost looks like a relieved one but you decide not to press. You are wasting time and your friends are going to get on your ass if you are late for shots.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” You try to take another step up but his grip tightens ever-so-slightly. “Dr. Jeong?”

The man’s lips are pressed together in a thin line and his dimples sink into plush cheeks; it’s a look you easily recognize after working alongside him for several months now. He’s thinking of something, trying to find the best way to word his sentence. “What if—” He pauses.

“What if what?”

“What if you kiss me at midnight?”

His question leaves you speechless. “Doctor?”

“Kiss me at midnight,” Jaehyun says it again, not as a question this time, but as a statement.

His shoulders straighten up from his slouch and his eyes are filled with determination. He looks straight into your eyes as he does so, making you freeze in place. Your watch is buzzing with notifications—probably texts from the guys—but you ignore the vibrations and keep your stare on him. He offers you a soft smile and slides his palm to meet yours and the action doesn’t stop there.

He gently laces your fingers together and stands up. You’re three steps above him now and his body turns to fully face you. Front to front, you are at eye level with him, and still, you have no words.

“I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do but I would very much like to kiss you.” His lips grow wider at his confession. “I’ve wanted to for a while actually.”

“Since when?” you force yourself to ask.

“Ever since I saw you playing with my cousin.”

But that was months ago. That was the same time you started developing feelings for him. You had spent all this time, you were trying to get over your crush on your coworker when in fact, he felt the same way about you.

“I wanted to get to know you more so that’s why I invited you for lunch that day.”

“Seriously?” you whisper.

He chuckles, “Seriously. I shared my lunch with you even though I skipped breakfast that morning. I was really hungry but I was willing to sacrifice a few bites to spend a few more moments with you.”

Your watch and the phone in your pocket continue to ding but you pay no mind to them. All you can focus on is the man in front of you, backlit by the dim lights of the stairwell and the glow of the city. “Oh.”

“Is that all you can say?” Jaehyun teases as he plays with your fingers. His hand feels nice against yours. It’s cozy. “Oh?”

“I can say more than that!” you shoot back with a little sass in your tone.

“So?”

“So?”

“Yes or no, Y/N?”

You hear a countdown from ten begin from farther down the stairwell and your eyes flicker to the lower floors. You can’t see them but it’s probably the first-year surgical interns. You’ve seen them hang out at the same spot many times in the past.

When you shift your gaze back up to Jaehyun, he’s still looking right at you. His eyes search your face for something, anything that you will give him. A nod, a smile, a laugh. He’s desperate for any sort of answer at this point.

Five seconds left and you grin at him.

Four seconds left and he grins right back.

Three seconds. You close your eyes and your nose brushes against his.

Two seconds. His minty breath hits your cheek.

One second and his soft lips hover above yours.

“Happy New Year!”

Lips on lips, the long-awaited kiss is perfectly timed with the fireworks lighting up the beautiful night sky and the happy screams of the interns down below. And even when the celebrations come to an end, Jaehyun’s arms are still wrapped around you, pulling your body impossibly closer to him. He refuses to let you go, even when you separate to catch a breath. His mouth remains right in front of yours as he examines your breathless form through the wisps of his lashes.

You’re over the moon at this point and you don’t know if you’ll ever come down.

Jaehyun’s able to steal one last kiss before your watch vibrates from a call. You break away from his embrace by resting your hands on his strong chest and apologize to him with a mere look that the doctor seems to understand.

You answer the call with a tap on the screen. Chenle’s voice blasts through the speaker. “You missed the countdown, you little shit! I took your shot for you!”

Jaehyun holds his chuckle in but you feel the rumble of his chest through your palms. You try to shush him and he responds by kissing your nose. “Shut up, I was busy!”

“With what, loser?” Your friend argues back. You hear him yelp and Renjun scolding him in the background. Renjun’s speech is a little slurred and you figure the nurse hadn’t had anything to eat in hours. He was the lightweight among your group of coworkers.

Jaehyun replies before you get a chance to do so. “Busy with me,” he says. The doctor’s deep voice causes the nurses on the line to fall silent—something that was deemed almost impossible when this particular group worked together.

Jaemin is the first to speak out of the three. “We’ll leave you to it then.”

“Thank you,” Jaehyun chuckles at the nurse’s shocked voice.

“Dr. Jeong?” Renjun’s small voice carries through, sounding like a scared little animal.

“Yes, Renjun?”

“We’re still sober, I swear.” Your friend tries to defend them and you giggle at his tone.

“Why would I think otherwise?”

Jaehyun ends the call with a tap on your wrist and pulls you into another hug. His warm scent envelops you and you sigh into his hold. Your arms curl around his neck and your fingers play with the ends of his messy hair. He sways you to an unknown beat, just enjoying the way you’re resting against him. You both know you need to go back to your rounds but just a few more moments alone won’t hurt anyone.

“You’re off at seven?” The question he asks is mumbled by your hair as his lips rest on the crown of your head.

“Yeah. You too?”

He hums happily when you leave a shy kiss right at the end of his v-neck’s collar, in between the dip of his chest. “Grab breakfast with me when we get off? I have the whole day off tomorrow and I know the perfect place.”

“Will I have time to go home and change at least? I’d like to be presentable for our first date.” You frown at the idea of wearing your sweaty scrubs to your first date with the man of your dreams.

“You always look presentable to me but whatever you want to do, I’ll wait for you.” And again, your heart flutters.

You begin to make plans as you both make your way back to the pediatric ward with matching smiles. Your hand is attached to his, fingers tightly intertwined, and arms swinging in unison. The rest of the staff on duty spots the new development as you pass and tease you with knowing looks. You respond happily to them, glad to have Jaehyun by your side.

Just as you’re about to reach the nurse’s station, where Jaemin, Renjun, and Chenle are obviously peaking at you, Jaehyun stops you to give you one final kiss before returning to his office to finish charting.

“Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Jaehyun.” 

It’s the first time he ever hears you refer to him by his first name and it drives him to dive back down for more than just a peck. The kiss he leaves you with is a little inappropriate for the workplace but you don’t seem to mind. It releases the butterflies caged in your tummy. Your friends hoot and holler at the sight.

The man lets you go with a squeeze of the waist and a grin that rivals the light of the sun that has yet to rise. 

And that’s when you come to the realization, out of all three options, you love the midnight shifts the most. 

author’s note. (repost cuz it’s not showing up in the tags!) surprise, friends! happy new year! this has been in my head for a few days but i sped wrote this all day. i’ve edited but there may have been a lot of things i’ve missed in my rush to post before midnight pst. a big thank you to @lavendersuh​ and @ppangjae​ for pushing me to write this idea, @smileysuh for keeping me company as i write it, and my sweet, sweet  @emmybyeakitty for reading it over! to all my readers, i love you all and wish you happiness and health in 2022. (omg editing this while watching the smtown concert livestream on youtube is hard dskjhgkdsh i’ll come back and edit later)

taglist. @keemburley @johtenrecs @jaemdonuts @euphoricdreamies @bat-shark-repellant @bebsky @sokkigarden

network. @neowritingsnet @czennienet @ankathi-a​

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[grantiskeith]

I wrote a SamxDarlin short little thing. 1.6k hurt/comfort obviously

Sam ran around the corner, scanning the room. The text had come nearly 3 minutes ago now, 'Quinn hekp.' The typo should have been innocent but the lack of coherency gave Sam a heart palpitation.

Darlin planned on hiding from the world in Sam's cabin, tucked deep in the woods. Their getaway that weekend was all planned out in Sam's head. He fry catfish for dinner the way his mama had taught him to make it. Watch a movie on the couch, something lighthearted like Paddington. Sam had imagined turning the movie off 45 minutes in after Darlin fell asleep on his chest. And he would carry them to his bed and keep them safe and warm in his cabin while he listened to the whistling of the leaves until he fell asleep with them in his arms.

That's not how the night went.

Darlin had knocked on his door, nearly 2 hours before they had planned to meet. Sam was going to escort his mate from their apartment to his front door. In the safe confines of his cherry-red Ford F-150 where he could put his hand on their thigh while he drove. But no, the stubborn wolf ran deep into vamp territory to knock on his door because "I just couldn't wait to be with my mate." Sam had no choice but to bring Darlin in for the biggest bear hug they could take without squeezing the life out of both of them.

Sam hadn't even bought the food yet. "I still gotta run to the store and you can't stay here alone" Sam tried to explain to his stubborn wolf. Darlin insisted that they stay at the cabin.

"I feel safe here" they had said, "I came here to escape from the world so let me. I'll be there when you get back." Sam wished the decision had been more difficult. He wished he had demanded Darlin not be left alone. Regardless of the wards and locks on the cabin, Sam should have stood firm.

But he didn't. He was also convinced of the security of his home. So he left, revving the engine of his truck with nothing on his mind but what vegetable he should serve with the catfish.

It never occurred to Sam that Darlin would open the door to a knock. He swore that wolf had no preservation skills. Not even a notion to peek through the window to check who's knocking. Vampires don't need permission to enter a house but it makes it a hell of a lot easier when you open the door for them.

Sam was halfway back to the cabin when he got the text. Before unlocking the phone the name "Quinn" was on his text notification from Darlin. He put the gas pedal on the floor. "Quinn hekp" was the full message. The truck flew down the remaining road to his front door. He had to resist the urge to kick the truck door out of the way or to punch down the window. Anything to get him out of the truck faster. He sprinted inside, keys still in the ignition.

"Darlin!" He yelled busting down his door. The door hit the adjacent wall still on its hinges. He moved inside before the door could swing back in his face.

Around the corner of the kitchen was Darlin in the living room. They were slouched on the ground, back against the wall. That bastard was here, in Sam's house. He couldn't believe it.

He knelt by their side, hesitant to touch anything. The seams of their sweatshirt had been violently torn, exposing their neck and shoulder. Blood dribbled around a bite. Sam's heart ached for yet another scar added to Darlin's precious body. There was only one new bite. It was uncharacteristically neat. So why was Darlin on the ground?

Darlin was conscious, awake, and alert. Breathing labored. "Can't" Darlin wheezed a scratchy inhale. "Breathe" was the second word that fell from their lips like rocks in a paper shredder.

Panic rolled into his head in a rush, paralyzing his thoughts. "Shhh," he said, "I'm here now Darlin, relax." His words calm amongst the screaming in his head.

His hand was immune to the amateur cold sweat dripping down his temple. Years of practice and training, nearly 7 years practicing at DAMN, had taught his callosed hand to look for injuries. Their neck only had superficial lacerations.

Both Sam's hands now, seasoned from days in the clinic, pressed into Darlin's chest. Light pressure on their chest forced Darlin to let out a whimper. "Easy, now you're gonna be ok" he whispered. There was fear in the wolf's eyes.

"I'm gonna remove some of these clothes to see what's goin' on ok?" Sam was kneeling on the ground to their left side. He reached to his back pocket to get the pocket knife on his key ring. 'Shit' he thought, visualizing the keys still in the ignition of the truck. Opting for his next choice, he grabbed the sweatshirt where Quinn at torn it. Sam ripped it the rest of the way down, exposing Darlin's t-shirt underneath. He easily tore through the undershirt, unveiling the source of Darlin's labored breathing.

Their chest was a dark red, and light bruises began to form over their right lung. Collapsed lung.

Sam checked on their face. "I'm gonna need you to take a breath for me Darlin', please as deep as you can." Sam hoped his face looked calm, he hoped he looked like the model of medical professionalism and not like he may cry. Tears were pooling over their eyes and following down the side of their face.

"Ok, ready?" he asked with a hand palm-down on their chest. "In" he inhaled. Darlin nodded, making furious eye contact with Sam, worried that if they blinked Sam might disappear. Their inhale was shallow and painful and was abruptly stopped short by pain. Instead of a popper exhale, Darlin gasped. It was enough for Sam to focus his magic on the lung, clearly damaged from blunt force trauma.

"How's that feeling" Sam forced a smile looking back up at Darlin whose tears poured profusely down their face. Darlin's only response was to try another breath which Sam took as another opportunity to flood their body with magic. He felt the right lung fill up and exhale properly as it should. Darlin's arms which previously dangled at their side tried pushing themselves higher on the wall they leaned against.

"Hey" Sam whispered. "Lemme move ya onta the couch. Lemme do the work ok? Or ya gonna undo the healin"

"That's not how healing magic works cowboy" Darlin smirked, still with remaining shortness of breath.

"Wow" Sam started, "you must have learned that when you were in healin' classes huh?" He hoped his humor came off as distracting but he regretted it immediately after hearing his voice say it, remembering his role in this incident. He slipped an arm under their legs and one under their back lifting them to the couch only a foot away. It was how he imagined carrying them to bed after the movie he was planned. He switched back to doctor mode, cutting them from a retort.

"You've still got some healing to go but if your breathing feels ok, do ya wanna lemme know what happened?" He sat on the coffee table across from the couch and kept a hand on their chest feeling for any abnormal breathing.

"I'm a total fucking idiot. I"

"Whoa" Sam cut them off, guilty they would accept any blame, "I don't want to hear that"

"I let Quinn in Sam, he knocked and I opened the door because I thought it was you." They squeezed their eyes shut tossing their head back into a pillow. Sam took a breath, sending healing magic around their neck where their bite almost stabbed over.

"From the looks of it" Sam said, "Quinn only fed exactly what he needed from you"

"And he pushed me against the wall when he was done. I don't think he ment to hurt me." Darlin finished.

[slurrmp]

stargazing ✰ 13th doctor x reader

a/n: uwu what's this? i live?

holy shit - i'm so sorry for leaving you all for like eight months. just i hit writer's block and the lack of doctor who made it hard for me to get any sort of writing done. anyway, the easter special awoke my urge to write and this came out of it. definitely not really up to parr - but i hope y'all enjoy it. just some soft fluffy moments.

slight spoilers for the special. But not heavy.

posted on my ao3 | wattpad.

“Don’t say a word.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything!”

There’s a smirk that slowly forms at the corner of your lips. Your eyes remained closed and your hands were clasped together, resting on your stomach. The breeze was cool against your face, a nice change from the whole running in the middle of the desert thing all four of you did earlier that day. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks was almost enough to lull you into a deep sleep. Your body was sore and the bandage around your rib cage was uncomfortable, but that was the price you paid when you did stupid things. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

Yaz and Dan had decided to go into the village to find something for the humans of the group to eat - you had a strong craving for seafood, considering where you were staying for the night, but you had no idea what type of food you could even get on this planet. There had been a couple of places that you just could not stomach the food that had been offered to you - worms and something that looked like snails had been the last place you visited, you couldn't keep them in your stomach - throwing them back up, which meant that you didn't eat at all until you were back on the TARDIS, which had been a full twelve hours. You knew that you should probably eat something today if you didn't want the Doctor on your ass again. You had almost fainted from the lack of food on the last trip, and you had been injured this time around - running back to your little air bnb like place didn't help your injuries whatsoever. Having been forced into the bathroom, the Doctor had applied the fast healing cream onto your rib cage and also forced you on bed rest for the rest of the evening, that didn't stop you, however, from utilizing the cute little balcony thing up on the roof.

It was about twenty minutes later that the Doctor had come to join you. Nudging you slightly, so that both of you could fit on the one lounge chair together.

“I was just going to point out the constellations for you.” She continued. A sigh escaped you, as your eyes cracked open. You stared up into the spotted blackness of the sky. The planet had TWO moons, making the evening appear to be brighter than home. The multitude of stars made your head spin - it was almost like there were more stars on this side of the galaxy than at home. “But if you would rather sit here in silence, that's okay as well.”

Turning your head to look at the Time Lord - whose shoulder rested against your own - you couldn’t help the laugh that left you. “Of course you can point out the constellations for me.” You had almost been worried that the Doctor would chew you out again for your reckless behaviour today. But hearing that she only wanted to tell you about the stars, made your entire body feel light for once. The Doctor turned her head towards you - your breath sudden caught at the back of your throat. She was higher up on the recliner than you, causing her nose to brush against your forehead slightly. There had been this ... THING lingering between both of you for a while now. Ever since New Year's and the ever occurring time loop, Dan had figured it out - even Yaz and you didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. They kept trying to nudge you in the right direction but - after dealing with the Sea Devils and the pirates, after hearing the fact that the Doctor couldn't fix herself to anyone - you backed off.

It was hard to do. Very hard to do. It almost felt like you had shut off a part of yourself, but you didn't want to make the centuries-old alien uncomfortable.

“Are you sure?” She questioned you. Tilting your head up ever so slightly, you rolled your eyes at her. She nudged your arm. “Oi, I just want to make sure - don’t want you going to Yaz and complaining about me.” A fake gasp escaped your lips as you sat up. Your right leg fell off the chair, and you twisted around to look back at the blonde.

“I do not go to Yaz to bitch thank you very much.” The Doctor laughed - causing your smile to grow wider. Slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back down on the recliner - but the angel was wrong, causing you to stretch your ribs too far. Your face scrunched up. Why was it whenever you got into a fight, your body would meet a solid object almost every time. Your ribs hurt like a bitch, but the cream that the Doctor had put over your rib cage was slowly starting to take effect. “Besides, it’s really Dan that I go and complain to.” The Doctor snorted as you laid your head against her chest - the sound of twin heartbeats luring you in closer. Your arm slung across her stomach.

“You three...” Her voice was soft, as her fingers started to brush through your hair. “Humans, never cease to amaze me.” A huff left you. “You are so very fragile but you never back down from a fight.” Your nose scrunched once again - of course, she had to make mention of your failed fight. “And when you get hurt and knocked down, you get back up. You’ve spread across the entire galaxy and you continue to live your lives.” You tilted your head back slightly, looking up at the Time Lord. “You have such a short life span, but you do so much within the confinements of those years.”

“To you, we must seem so young.” You replied. Hazel eyes caught yours then. It was quiet for a couple of seconds, before the Doctor leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Swallowing, you buried your head into her side. She was bad for your health. Very bad. The things that you would do for this alien were almost sinful. Your mother would never have approved of this relationship - which was why you never told your parents about the things you had been doing for the last three years.

“So very young, which is why I have to keep saving you a lot.” Fingers resumed their petting of your head. “But I never get tired of it.” You could feel the Doctor’s gaze staring down at the side of your face before she tightened her arms around you, pulling you closer to her. Pulling your head out from her side, you let your gaze focus on the night sky.

It was quiet for a couple of minutes - the only noise that could be heard by both of you was the waves. Then suddenly there was a flash in the sky (accompanied by a low rumble). Your arm shot out above you, pointing to the streak of light. “What’s that? A shooting star?” You questioned, you could feel the Doctor move underneath you - her arm coming to join yours. Her index finger pointed at it and you could almost picture her tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and one eye closed. Hand traveled the direction that the “star” had come from, only for it to land on the horizon.  

“The nine-fifteen shuttle to Orion.” The Doctor answered. The prideful tone in her voice made you sit up once again and look down at her.

“The shuttle?” You questioned.

"Leaves every couple of days." A huff left you and your smile was back. "Now, come on - lie back down and I'll tell you all about these clusters of stars." And so you did, finding your position again, snuggled into the Doctor's side. Head rested against her chest, as you watched her finger dance between the shiny dots. You were going to miss this.

[ilalos]

Worth it (Anthony Bridgerton x reader) Part 2/2

Summary: Your arranged marriage to Anthony seems fine, until it doesn’t.

Warnings: marriage, implied sex, angst-ish, fluff, pregnancy, crying, if you notice anything else let me know :)

Word count: 2.5k

The season passed in a blur with countless flowers and conversations that filled you with expectations about your marriage to the Viscount, you truly felt like love was around the corner for both of you and it was a matter of time for that corner to be turned. He was everything you had expected and more, you could tell he was wary about letting you in but didn’t want to push him so you let him open himself to you at his own pace. The had been some stolen looks, kisses on your knuckles that had lasted a little longer than they should and hand a bit lower than what was acceptable when you danced. To say the courting had been successful was the understatement of the season in your opinion, by the time the wedding day came you were counting down the minutes before you finally became Lady (y/n) Bridgeton.

Your wedding ceremony was short and the carriage ride to Anthony’s bachelor townhouse was even shorter. The wedding night had come with a surprisingly low amount of events, your virginity had been taken the sweetest of ways, with many kisses and whispered promises of pleasure that came true. By the end of the day, you were as happy as can be, laying on your husband's chest, feeling his heartbeat slowing down and smelling the sweet vanilla scent of his skin.

When you woke up the next morning the bed was empty and he had already left to work in his study back in the main Bridgerton home. He didn’t return until late in the evening and you were waiting for him so you could have dinner together.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” he said while taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s nothing, I like that we are finally spending some time together”

Anthony just nodded and continued eating in silence.

“How was your day?” You pushed for conversation, you had been alone all day and could really use some conversation with someone different than your maid, who was terrified of speaking freely.

“It was busy” he answered simply “how was your day?” He asked after seeing the face you made at his short answer.

“It was also very busy, I reorganized the books in the library, had the kitchen staff do an inventory on the pantry, and send the maids to the market to get some flowers for the table tops” you narrated proudly, hoping he might appreciate the way you ran the home.

“Good to see you’re settling in, darling” his small praise made you smile a little.

“You don’t mind that I changed some things?” You asked somewhat concerned by his silence.

“It is your home, you’re free to do whatever you please with it,” he said dismissively.

“It’s our home, Anthony, I want to make it perfect for you too”

After dinner, he walked you to the bedroom and after a couple of heated kisses you fell in his arms once again, the pleasure he gave you was addictive. Despite his cold attitude towards you in other aspects of your life, it was in the bedroom where you felt hopeful for a future where you both might learn to truly love each other, and then he would sneak out every morning making you feel like a worthless whore.

And so your days continued like this, every night was filled with passion and every day was lonely. You couldn’t even go to the Bridgerton home, you had been taught that a married lady was not to go out without her husband, so your heart slowly filled with sadness as you spent day after day alone in the townhouse. Anthony was none the wiser because he simply thought you enjoyed being by yourself, so it never occurred to him to invite you to his family’s home or anywhere else.

A month into your marriage you found out you were with child. You were extremely happy and Anthony had shown himself to be happy as well, but then that night he didn’t come home for dinner and didn’t make an appearance in your bedroom. He was more and more distant until four months had passed and he disappeared for two full weeks before you saw him again.

It was on the day of your birthday, and he had only gone to your room because the butler told him you had been very sick that day. When he entered the room he found you seating on the bed hugging your knees close to your chest, your eyes puffy from crying and silent tears still streaming down your face. You weren’t upset he had forgotten your birthday, you had never celebrated it so it didn’t matter he didn’t remember it.

“What happened? Is everything well? Is the baby-“

“Your child is quite well, Lord Bridgerton” you interrupted in the coldest tone he had ever heard from you “to what do I owe this joyous visit?”

“I apologize for my absence, I have been very busy” he answered measly.

“I figured out that much, husband” the word was said with venom.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked offended, you had never treated him so coldly.

“I am upset with myself” you started with a pained chuckle “I don’t need you to try and comfort me because you did nothing wrong, that is the reason for my anger” a small sob escaped your lips “I was taught to be a good wife, that my only job was to give my husband heirs and to keep the house running and I understood that and I didn’t fight it because at least I would have children to fill my life with love and a husband who at the very least would acknowledge me and my efforts”

“I-“

“I don’t want you to feel like you should change or apologize, this is not your fault, I feel miserable because I filled my heart with hopes and dreams of love but that’s just not how life is, at least not mine” you harshly wiped your eyes before finishing “I understand my place now, I’m nothing but a child-bearer for you and that’s fine because you didn’t even pick me in the first place” you got up from bed and opened the door for him “please leave me alone, I will be fine”

“I can’t just leave you here alone, have you even eaten today? In your condition-“

“Your child is perfectly well, my lord” your tone had turned icy once again “please go, I am tired and want to rest”

Unable to do anything else, Anthony left the room and went back to his family’s home. His mother had insisted for him to take you there that night, but seeing your state he didn’t even bother asking if you wanted to go. When he got there he was surprised to see the dining room fully decorated, his whole family dressed in their best clothes, even Daphne and Simon had paid a visit.

“Where is (y/n)?” Asked Violet.

“She’s not feeling very well” answered Anthony looking at the table that was filled with all his wife’s favorite food “What is happening? Why are you all here dressed as if you are attending a ball?”

“Anthony, please for the love of God almighty, tell me you didn’t forget your wife’s birthday!” Violet couldn’t keep his composure, how could Anthony be so clueless.

“I-I’ve been so busy lately supervising the building of the new house, it didn’t even occur to me that it was her birthday” Anthony felt terrible, as he should.

“It’s bad enough she doesn’t like us, son” Violet sighed, seating on the table “And now she thinks we don’t care for her birthday”

“Where did you get that idea, mother?” Daphne couldn’t help but ask “When she writes to us she says wonderful things about our family”

“Then why hasn’t she visited since the wedding?” This time it was Colin asking “Mother sent a tea invitation shortly after they got married and she never showed up, sent a poor letter apologizing but did not explain why she didn’t show”

“I might have an explanation for that” Simon spoke up “My aunt was a terribly strict mother, taught her that a wife was nothing more than a child-bearer and had no liberties like men do, for example: going out unaccompanied”

“Has she been out of the house since you married, brother?” asked Eloise, turning to face Anthony who was still frozen at the doorstep.

“I don’t believe so” he entered the room and sat defeated “I just thought she enjoyed being at home by herself, god!” he rubbed his hands down his face.

“I can’t believe it, the poor thing” lamented Violet.

“She hasn’t left the house in almost half a year” concluded Benedict.

“And here we were, refusing to visit thinking she had rejected mother,” said Colin.

“I would like to clarify, I never agreed with losing contact with her over one missed invitation” added Eloise, gaining the glares of everyone present.

“It matters not what we thought nor does it matter what has happened in the past” began Violet “right now I want you to go pick her up and bring her here, she deserves to be celebrated, especially after everything we put her through,” she told her eldest child, pushing him to stand and go to the door.

Anthony mounted the carriage and urged the coachman to hurry home and as soon as he got there he ran up the stairs to your room and burst through the door, jolting you awake.

“I am so sorry, love,” ha said kneeling on your bedside “I never knew you didn’t leave the house because you thought you couldn’t, you are free to do as you please, darling” he grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles “I didn’t mean to make you feel trapped in your own home, and I am sorry if you felt like I abandoned you” he caressed your face and wiped some tears that had fallen without your notice.

“You did abandon us,” you said, trying to pull your hand from his grasp with your other hand protecting your belly.

“I was merely supervising the building of our new home, I was hoping I could surprise you before the baby arrived” he explained, now seating by your side “I can’t possibly ask my family to leave their home but I know how much you love that house, and so I chose to build a similar one not too far from here”

“You are building me a house?” You asked incredulously, hardly anything could justify his absence but this was in fact a reasonable explanation.

“Yes, love” he once again caressed your face “A home for our family” at that your eyes filled with tears, this time from happiness.

You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck, crying with your face buried in his shirt. He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head and shushing you softly to calm down your cries. You spent a while holding each other until he suddenly broke you two apart, remembering his family that was still waiting for you both to show up.

“My beautiful wife, I must take you out of the comforts of your bed” he began, apologetic “My family is expecting you in their home to celebrate your birthday with a lavish dinner”

“Heavens! You should’ve started with that” you ran to your door and called out for your maid “I don’t think I have a dress for such occasion, non that would fit me now, that’s certain”

You opened your trunk and began taking out your chemise and all other items you had to wear under your dress in such cold weather. You took off your nightgown not caring Anthony was there, he had seen it all before, after you had put on your chemise your maid ran in and help you put on the rest of your garments and helped you squeeze your small baby bump in the dress you had worn for one of the first balls you attended when Anthony was courting you. She put your hair in a quick updo and even managed to coerce Anthony into putting on your stockings and your shoes while she did your hair. With all that rush and hard work, you managed to be ready in under an hour and still made it to the dinner at a reasonable hour (half past 9 is reasonable, right?).

At the Bridgerton home, you were welcomed with warm embraces and merry wishes on your special day. You all sat around the table and ate the feast that had sadly grown cold. Colin didn’t seem to mind as he devoured everything in sight, prompting Violet to chastise him softly. You, however, ate small bites because the pregnancy had caused your stomach to be upset easily and you didn’t wish to offend anyone by running out of the room to empty your stomach. Anthony watched you eat and held your hand atop the table, smiling as he watched you laugh and converse with his family.

“Is the food not good enough?” Asked Violet seeing your plate almost full.

“It is just perfect, my stomach has just been iffy since the start of the pregnancy” you answered smiling apologetically, Anthony choked on his wine because he realized at that very moment that he had forgotten to tell his family about your condition.

“You’re with child? Those are wonderful news!” Exclaimed Violet with a large smile “When did you found out?”

“Four months ago” you turned to glare at Anthony “I assumed your son had told you”

“How could you conceal such joyous information from your mother?” Violet then noticed her eldest daughter had become quiet, as well as her husband “Did you know, Daphne?”

“I was aware of it, yes” Daphne admitted ashamed “I too assumed Anthony had told you”

“You assumed my eldest son had told me about his wife’s pregnancy and I had decided not to mention any of it in our letters?”

“I-I’m, yes?” Benedict and Colin snorted with laughter hearing their sister’s answer.

Violet only shook her head with a small smile, her children were truly a wonder. Anthony was nervous that you’d get mad at him for not telling them, but one look at your laughing face told him he didn’t need to worry.

Later that evening you both laid in bed after yet another passion-filled encounter, your breathing slow and even making Anthony think you were asleep. He was caressing your naked back with feather-like touches, kissing your sweaty forehead every few minutes.

“I love you” you sighed, kissing his chest “You need not feel the same, I just want you to know how I feel”

He took a shaky breath before answering.

“I also am in love with you, darling” he placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head so you’d look at him “sometimes I’m scared of just how much I love you” he kissed you slow and deep, pouring all his love into the action.

The kiss was unlike any other you had shared before, this one was full of promise and hope. It filled you with love and certainty, you were now sure that no matter how difficult the road to Anthony’s heart had been, even if you didn’t want it at first, it had all been worth it.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. If you like it let me know.

Tag list:

@alaizaaa02

@awesomebooklover17

[rafescoke]

Never sent a request idk if I do this right. Been to lazy and not good lately and honestly I just need a good fluff. The basic plot where he is in a bad mood like angry and then he turns to his lover etc etc. Do your thing I just need some comfort and love!

Cupcake ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Maybe making cupcakes with a girl he likes won’t be a bad thing

Warnings: Slight angst on the earlier part, cursing, substance, extreme fluff, adorable Rafe Cameron

A/N: I hope you're doing good, sending all my love and hugs @ you <33 remember to rest!!! @asimpwriter

p.s; you know the drill - send any requests!

"Fuck off," Rafe sighed, shutting his eyes against the bright chandelier above the dinner table. Since when did it got so bright? The last time he checked, it was dimmed. "I swear Sarah, say one more word and I'll fucking kill you."

"Rafe," Ward sighed, placing his cutleries down onto the expensive wooden table. "It's family time. Excuse your sister."

"She's hanging around with those stupid pogues, dad!" he groaned, not wanting to believe that his dad was on her side. Not that he was ever on his, but he thought his father would have the same mindset as him towards this topic.

"Let. It. Go."

"They're my friends," she breathed, and Ward closed his eyes again, knowing the screaming that was about to occur. "I'm sorry you're stuck with Topper-"

"Didn't you cheat on him?" he laughed, and turned to look at his dad. He mouthed at him with an amused expression, "She cheated on him."

"I didn't, and we broke up 2 weeks ago. I'm sorry he couldn't move on from me," Sarah shrugged, and Rafe watched as she put aside her green beans and offered some of the mashed potatoes to Wheezie.

How could she act so normal about this?

"Oh, and-" Sarah turned to Ward, and Rafe waited impatiently for the lies that was about to slip from her mouth. "Do you know that he does drugs?"

"Sarah!" Rose yelled, furrowing her eyebrows as Rafe laughed out loud, clapping his hands loudly that the sound echoed throughout the huge house. "It's a family dinner!"

"I don't give a fuck about this family," Sarah said, removing the napkin from her lap and quickly standing up to get out of the house. Ward didn't say anything, neither did Rose, and after a few seconds, he let out a sigh.

"This is getting out of hand," he started, clasping his hands. "Rafe, I'm no longer letting you take over my business."

Rafe stopped his movements, looking at his father with widened eyes. After all those time he spent at college, trying to make his father proud and to take over the business, only for this?

"Dad, you can't. She's lying, dad, I haven't been using drugs."

"I saw the stash, Rafe," he sighed, and Rafe thought about the space under his bed. He closed his eyes, muttering a ‘fuck’ when he finally remembered the empty space. He didn't think much about it earlier, thinking about how he must have used up all of the powder.

"Until you get your life back on track, or nothing at all."

"Dad-"

"Go find your sister, and bring her home."

"Dad, please-"

"Go find Sarah."

"Okay," he sighed, standing up immediately and letting the chair scraped the polished floor. Wheezie shifted uncomfortably at the sound, and Rafe had an urge to do it again, just for the sake of riling his father's anger.

He cursed silently, walking away towards the table and to the porch, all while thinking about the joy if he could destroy the Pogues' life for making his hard.

The drive from Figure 8 to The Cut took him 30 minutes at high speed and being fully caffeinated, and when he arrived at the Chateau, all riled up from the quarrel with his father that he had before, he didn't try to see if his sister was even in there before barging into the small home.

"Yo, what the fuck?"

"Where's Sarah?" he muttered, giving Kie his side glance and continued searching for her. "Where the fuck is she?"

"Yo, bro, this land is off to the kooks," JJ stepped in, eye to eye as he leveled up to Rafe's height. He was only an inch shorter, but the difference was apparent. He continued to place his hands against his chest, whispering slowly. "Especially to crackheads like you."

Rafe laughed, tilting his head to the back to release the tension building up in his body. He was so, so close to give the blonde boy the consequences of his words, but was halted when Sarah entered the room, hand in hand with John B.

"What are you doing here?" she groaned, walking forward and standing in front of him. "God, can't you leave me alone?"

"Oh, trust me, I rather do that more than anything especially-" his eyes trailed to John B, "When you're fucking with a trash."

"JJ-" Kie stepped up, pulling JJ's shirt to stop him from doing anything. She sighed, knowing that this was bound to happen anytime soon, and she had told John B about this before, but he didn't listen. Now it was like her job to protect her friends from Rafe.

"Leave," Sarah stated, her lips pulled into a tight grimace. "Leave before I'll tell dad about this."

"I'm just trying to protect you," he ran his fingers through his hair, making it more messier than ever. Why couldn't she get that? All he was doing - it was all to protect her, so that his father could see him for what he's worth.

"You know what?" he sighed, wrapping his face with his large hands and turning towards the exit. "You wanna be one of them? Go. Don't ever come back home. You're just another trash, anyways."

He wasn't sure if he meant them, or if it came from the heat of the moment. All he could think about was to run away, to hide and to never come out and face his father or the judgement put by everyone else. He felt an uneasy feeling rising in the pit of her stomach, but he was too proud to say sorry.

“That was useless," he thought, leaning over his motorcycle and blinking his eyes against the lights by the side of the road. He couldn't go back now, not when his father had just ordered him to bring Sarah home and he had failed to do so, and he couldn't go to Barry's; his dad could find him there if he search for him the next day.

He groaned, feeling the cold air nipping at his skin until the final thought occurred to him. He laughed then, not sure as to why he hadn't been thinking of that sooner, and soon he was in front of the mini apartment.

He rapped on the door and waited patiently, his heartbeat quickening. He looked at his watch, checking if his arrival was too late. He groaned, noticing the time, but it would be embarrassing for him to turn now.

(Y/N) was trying to figure out what colour should she put into the frosting mixture, her hands on her waist when she heard the knock.

Her head instinctively looked at the clock, frowning when she read the time. It was not that late, only around 10 p.m., but she was not ready for any guests or her friends to come over.

Had she been too loud that the cranky neighbor next door who sleeps early everyday had come to tell her off?

She sighed, lowering the music coming from the radio before making her way to the door. She was in nothing but her ribbed top and a pair of sweatpants, and her hair was messier than ever.

"I'm sorry, Jerry," she sighed, opening the door to greet the old man. But standing in front of her was not the grey-haired man with furrowed eyebrows, ready to scold her, but it was the boy she had been crushing on since forever instead.

"Rafe?" she exclaimed, and she couldn't deny the shock spreading through her veins at the sight of him. He was sweaty, like he had just been in a fight, and his shirt was sticking to his body. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey, I'm sorry, can I come in?"

The smell of freshly baked cupcakes wafted into his nostrils, and he noticed the drool in his mouth. He didn't eat dinner that much, being forced to chase after his sister, and all he wanted was to enjoy some good food and get a good sleep for the night.

"I'm not. . . we can't. . . I'm not prepared for anything-"

"It's okay, I didn't come for sex," he bit his lips, trying to contain her amused laughter at her statement. "We're friends, (Y/N), aren't we?"

"Yeah," she raised a brow, not grasping at the way he was playing his words. She allowed him in, asking him to sit by the kitchen counter and checking her porch outside to see if there was any cameras in case he was trying to prank her.

Rafe Cameron never contacted her for anything if it wasn't for sex.

"What are you making?" he pointed at the mess on the kitchen, and (Y/N) tried to hide her red face as she quickly tried to put the stained bowls and cutleries into the sink.

"Uh, cupcakes."

"Yum," he chuckled, liking the way she was so nervous around him. The truth with (Y/N), she was extremely wild in bed but also very shy outside. It was like a complete two different person, but he was always intrigued by this.

The first time they had done the deed, he was shocked when she got into control, and he would lie if he said he didn't enjoy it. That night was one of Rafe’s best nights, the starting point to the many after.

"Relax, (Y/N)," he laughed, watching as she tilted a cup and placing his hand under the table to catch it before it could break. (Y/N) yelped, struck to her position, and let out the biggest relief when Rafe put it back to its previous place, safe as ever.

"Why are you so jumpy?" he whispered, sneaking beside her to help with whatever she was doing. He hadn't got a clue about this whole baking thing, only watching Cake Wars for the drama, but he wanted to help the girl beside him if it means he got to spend time with her.

"What are you doing?" she muttered, glancing at Rafe's hands as he whisked the fluffy frosting. "Rafe, you're going to get it more clumpy."

"No, I won't."

"Rafe, I swear," she groaned, reaching over to grab the whisk only for him to turn around, laughing while she struggled to get him.

"I'm just making it more fluffier," he smiled, continuing to whisk the mixture without even looking at the white colloid. He was too busy looking at her, and he wondered if she knew about the small amount of flour powder that had gotten on the top of her nose.

"Was the coke good?"

"Huh?" she tilted her head, confused, and still angry at the way he was not listening to her.

"The nose. Was the coke good?"

(Y/N) gave him a look before going to the corner to stare at herself in the mirror, letting out a yelp when she saw the powdery stain on her nose. She quickly dusted them off, stalking back to the still-whisking boy, and she wondered about the amount of energy he had in him and how he was still not tired.

"Rafe! It's all clumped!" she sighed, finally having a hold on the large bowl. She took her a finger and tipped it into the mixture, pulling out before slipping the finger into her mouth. Her face scrunched up, and she reached for the glass of water by her side.

"What? It's more prettier. More texture-ish. If we're in Cake Wars, we'll be the winner."

"That's not how it works," she groaned, pouring the failed mixture into the sink and letting the water cleansed them off. "Now my cupcake's going to be naked."

"You know what can be naked too?"

She held up her middle finger, placing the wet bowl onto the counter and using the clean cloth to wipe it dry. "And I'm not giving these to the children's home naked. You have to help me, Rafe."

Rafe felt a smile tugging on his lips at the mention of 'children’s home', and he thought about how perfect could she be. She’s the epitome of the girl everyone wants to be - she's good in school, never using anyone's money for her, good at baking, and has a big heart?

He thought about how she's good in bed too, but he tired to shake the childish thought away.

"What can I do? Should I go to the store and get any Betty Crocker's frosting?" he offered, his hands in his pocket to reach for his keys. He watched as her shoulder slumped, and he felt bad for ruining her cake. He touched her shoulder, "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it would actually be clumped. I thought it would get even more fluffier."

"You don't think, Rafe, that's why," she sighed, "But that's alright. Do you think you can help me make another one?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to ruin anything," he backed away, glancing at the sink and thinking about the clumped mixture making their way to the sewer.

"Yes. Can you reach for that sugar? That's flour, Rafe, god, yes, yes, okay, c'mere," she rolled her eyes, taking the container from him and dumping the content into the dried bowl. "Now, what do we do?"

"Put water?"

(Y/N) laughed, tilting her head to one side, trying to clutch her stomach from hurting. "Yeah, if you want the kids to get sick."

"Okay, Gordon, what should we do next?" he grunted, but he liked the lightness in the air. How the conversation flowed easily, and how quick he regained her trust to help her make whatever this is.

It was like she didn't care about the Rafe Cameron that gets into fights with the pogues or snorts coke when he's stressed. He felt like staying in this moment forever, wanting to help her bake whatever and watching her smile.

(Y/N) handed him the butter, muttering something along the words of 'dump them in', 'use the mixture', 'you're going to break your arms' and 'watch while it's whisking'.

He didn't care about the many orders she was giving him - he enjoyed it. He truly liked how his night was ending after a long day of bullshit, starting with his college sending him a letter for the vandalism he had caused outside of the Dean's office, Kelce and Topper going on a road trip without him and giving him the explanation of 'we asked you, and you said no'.

In truth, he didn't even remember anything about meeting them. His memory was starting to fade, and he shuddered at the thought of not knowing anyone when he reaches Ward's age.

"Okay, that's enough," she groaned, switching the button off. Rafe apologized quickly, being so caught up with his own thoughts, and waited for her next order.

"Choose the colour," she exclaimed happily, pointing out two different food dyes. "I can't choose!"

Rafe skimmed over the label that said 'blue' and 'pink', and made a face. "Are you going to give the blue ones to the boys and the pinks to the girls or something?"

"What? No?"

"Okay. . . why can't we just use both?"

"And make purple?"

"Yeah? Hey, look, I'm wearing blue and you're wearing pink!"

(Y/N) looked down to the ribbed top, noticing the colour, and her face turned into a red shade. Now everything's going to be awkward.

"Okay, purple it is," she rolled her eyes, giving him the blue bottle and taking the pink one for herself. "Three drops together. Are you ready?"

"Mhm."

"1."

Rafe licked his lips, so eager to watch the colour forming.

"2," she looked at him, and back to the frosting. "Rafe!"

"What?" he raised a brow, following her gaze and watching the blue dots on the frosting. He put his hand over his mouth, too stunned to say anything. "Oh my god, I'm so-"

(Y/N) laughed out loud, this time with her hands gripping onto the kitchen counter to stabilize herself, her mind rewinding back to his expression when he found out what he just did.

"Ha-ha, now you're just being an asshole," he rolled his eyes, but he was glad he had made her laugh. Instinctively, her laugh had made him feel better, and all of his worries dissipated into the air.

After a while, she tried to get ahold of herself to put the pink drops in, but failing to do so as his face kept appearing in her mind. Rafe groaned, having to wait for a few minutes now, and pulled her to feet. He pushed her against the counter, her back against his front as he trapped her.

"Don't laugh."

(Y/N) bit her lips, being in this position but not for what they usually do, and concentrated on dropping 3 drops of pink into the bowl. She cheered when she was done, pulling his hand away to move to the other side. The back of her neck was still hot, and she could still feel his arms around her.

"Mix it," Rafe smiled, leaning against the counter to watch as the mixer whisked the frosting, turning the pearly white colloid to a beautiful dark purple.

"It's dark!" she groaned, but she thought about how it still looked good, though it wasn't her expectation. Her job was almost finished now, and she could hear her bed calling.

"Now, the fun part," she smiled, taking her icing materials and placing them before his eyes. She watched as he laughed, being so excited as if he was a toddler seeing a playground for the first time.

"They used these in Cake Wars," he said proudly, showing her a nozzle.

"Stop with your Cake Wars," she mumbled, preparing the icing bag and giving Rafe one. "Put some frosting- not yet, Rafe, God, do you ever wait? Don't fill the bags too much, just in the middle, yes, just like that, and, wait, let me do mine."

She showed him how to do the perfect icing, practicing on a clean plate and asking him to do the same. He scoffed at her, saying how he got this, but what appeared was nothing more than a crooked line.

"That's nice," she muttered, sighing. "For a coming-out party."

Rafe groaned, trying to copy her artwork, and by the time it was 12.03 a.m., he had managed a copy of hers. Not literal, but there was a hint of hers in his.

"Okay. Now, Rafe, we'll make this quick. I do 80 cupcakes, and you do 20. Is that okay?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, concentrating on his piping bag. He watched as she did the first cupcake, ending her icing perfectly and exclaiming happily as she put it aside. She looked at him, waiting.

"Don't look at me, you're making me nervous," he mumbled, and leaned to decorate the cupcake. It took him a total of 2 minutes, stopping at times and getting a yell from (Y/N), saying how he should not stop, and the result was impressive. At least to him.

"This will probably be in the rejected part of a bakery, you know, that they'll sell with a discount."

"Not everyone can do arts, (Y/N)," he rolled his eyes, but he truly enjoyed the joke.

It was nearing one in the morning when Rafe saw her sighing in relief, placing the last cupcake into the pastry box and safely storing them in the refrigerator. Her hair was in a bun, he had helped her put them up, and when she refused to let him help her, he gave her a poke.

"What? It's not like it's my first time putting your hair up."

"God, Rafe, you're impossible."

His eyes were almost shut, being so tired after being a cake decorator, and all he wished for was to pull her into her bed and sleep until the morning greets them. He waited until she was done cleaning all of the utensils, walking tiredly towards to him to wake him up.

"Get change, Rafe, I'm not letting you sleep in my bed with that shirt and that sweatpants."

"It's not a problem before," he mumbled, allowing himself to be pulled by her to the bedroom. He removed his shirt weakly, pulling off his sweatpants and jumping into the bed as soon as she closed the light. (Y/N) giggled lightly, noticing how adorable he was being, and she pinched his cheeks before she could stop herself.

"Take off your clothes."

"I'm not going to take off my clothes," she laughed, pulling down her shorts and getting into the bed beside him. She finally laid her back against the mattress, letting out the biggest relief ever as she tried to get comfortable.

He pulled her close towards him, breathing into her scent. She smelled like cupcakes, and he loved it.

"I'm going to the children's home with you."

"What?" she pulled a face, because she wasn't sure if she had heard him right. There was no way Rafe Cameron would ever step his foot into a children's home, what more to give out dark purple cupcakes.

"I'm going to the children's home with you. To give them cupcakes."

(Y/N) smiled and kissed his cheeks. "Okay."

"And we should do this again."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Goodnight, Rafe," she laughed lightly, placing another peck before closing her eyes.

He placed a long kiss fully on her lips, feeling the butterflies soaring in his stomach. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

-

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[itadorisgf]

creep.

how your boyfriends react when they see someone making you uncomfortable.

fushiguro megumi x gn!reader x itadori yuuji + gojo satoru x gn!reader x nanami kento.

hurt/comfort(?), non-consensual groping, cursing, poly relationships

— fushiguro megumi + itadori yuuji.

the train is crowded with not much wiggle room at all. it’s to be expected of taking the train at this time. fushiguro and itadori are both nearby, the three of you are pressed closely to one another among the throng of other passengers.

you have your hand wrapped around a metal pole to stabilize you from any sudden jolts the train may make. you idly listen to fushiguro and itadori chat, worn out from the day’s outing and content to zone out to the sound of your boys’ voices.

your eyes widen in surprise and your grip around the pole tightens when you feel a hand roughly squeeze your rear end. fushiguro and itadori’s attention snap to your form when they hear the startled gasp that escapes your lips.

itadori’s concerned gaze remains on you while fushiguro’s eyes land on the individual standing behind you on the crowded train car. it doesn’t take long for fushiguro to connect the dots of what’s occurred.

meanwhile, itadori’s still confused. he questions if you’re alright, but you’re still shocked by what just happened to answer him properly. although it’s difficult with so many people on the train, fushiguro gently grabs your wrist until you’ve switched spots and you’re now standing right beside itadori.

fushiguro’s eyes harden and his lips flatten into a tight line as he stares at the older man who dared to lay his hand on another person (his significant other) without their consent. normally, fushiguro would hate to make a scene in public, but he can make an exception for today.

“apologize.”

fushiguro’s grip on the older man’s shirt is firm as he harshly tugs on it. the man’s lecherous smile morphs into a surprised expression, caught off-guard by fushiguro’s actions. by this point, itadori has caught on to what the man has done. his arm is wrapped around your shoulders, holding you close to his side as he watches the situation unfold before him.

“why should—ngh”

the man is cut off when fushiguro tightens his grip, causing the man to stumble a bit. the other passengers look on, aware that a conflict is arising in front of them. the man flounders while fushiguro is the visage of calmness. his eyes reveal the sheer amount of anger he’s feeling at the moment.

“i said apologize.”

the man attempts to break away from fushiguro’s unrelenting hold. “fuckin’ let go of me—fuck! fine! i’m sorry. now fucking let go, man.”

the man trips when fushiguro suddenly lets go and scampers to exit the train as quickly as he can. the prying eyes of the crowd go back to what they were previously doing when the realize that the situation is now dealt with.

fushiguro turns back around to face you and itadori. your face is pressed into itadori’s chest as his arm is now protectively slung around your frame.

“i hate the city,” fushiguro flatly says. it elicits a soft snicker from itadori and a small smile from you. fushiguro slots himself by your side and slips his hand into yours.

luckily, the rest of the train ride passes by smoothly.

— gojo satoru + nanami kento.

as the head of the gojo clan and the strongest sorcerer, gojo’s required to go to stiff clan gatherings every so often. the three of you dislike going, but understand that gojo has certain obligations he must attend to. well, you and nanami understand, gojo doesn’t. (he’d much rather just shirk his duties like usual, but you and nanami have to stress how important it is that he goes, even if neither of you wish to attend either.)

when you arrive at the gathering, you three are swept off into different directions. gojo bounces from person to person, intent on making their lives as miserable as possible to make them regret making his attendance mandatory. nanami is stolen away to chat with some younger jujutsu sorcerers who seem very interested in making conversation with him. you sigh quietly to yourself and make your way over to the refreshment table.

if you’re going to be stuck at this place for the next few hours, you might as well make the most of it. while you’re perusing the table, attempting to decide on whether you wanted to snack on something or drink something, a voice startles you from your train of thought.

“now, why’s someone as lovely as you all alone, sweetheart?”

you restrain the urge to outwardly cringe at the blatant attempt at flirting. you don’t recognize the man speaking to you, but you can guess that he’s probably a member of one the higher up clans. he’s not unattractive (nowhere as attractive as gojo or nanami), but you already dislike him. the certain air of arrogance and superiority that surrounds him is suffocating.

“i’m just grabbing a refreshment before i meet up with my boyfriends.”

you make sure to emphasize the last word as you turn your attention back to face the table. you decide that a snack sounds good for now, reaching out to pluck one of the finger foods provided off of the tray.

“strange, but i don’t see either of them around.”

he roughly loops his hand around your wrist. you recoil when you feel his breath hit your skin.

“how about you and i get out of here?”

you’re this close to fucking breaking this bastard’s entire arm for putting his fucking hands on you when a familiar voice fills the air.

“how about you let go of my lovely partner?”

gojo’s voice is light and airy as it normally is, but there’s a distinct bite to his tone. a clear warning that it would be in this man’s best interest to release you. when his grip on you slackens, you’re quick to tear your wrist away from him.

“such unbecoming behavior coming from the zenin clan.”

you startle for a brief moment at the sound of new voice coming from behind you, but you relax when you realize who it is. nanami’s expression is impassive, but there’s a tight clench of his jaw that indicates his underlying anger.

the man rolls his eyes and has the audacity to scoff before retreating to a different corner of the room, far away from your group. you can make out faint muttering underneath his breath, something along the lines of “fuckin’ gojo and nanami of all people.”

“are you alright, love?”

gojo wraps his arms around your waist from behind, fitting his face into the curve of your neck as nanami stands in front of you with a concerned expression.

“i’m alright, kento,” you assure him, leaning back into gojo’s chest. “i was more annoyed than anything.”

the crease in between nanami’s brows smooths out upon hearing your response. gojo loudly huffs from behind you. you tilt your head to get a better look at his face.

“this is why i hate coming to these,” gojo childishly complains against your skin. you laugh and press a kiss to gojo’s jaw. mentally, you and nanami agree with gojo’s statement.

“how about we leave early then, satoru?”

his demeanor brightens and without another word, gojo’s dragging you and nanami out of the building by the hand. nanami chides gojo for his behavior, but he can’t hide the small upturn of his lips.

you three end up eating at some hole-in-the-wall for the night.

the next morning, gojo earns himself a lecture from the higher ups about how he can’t just walk out from “important clan gatherings”.