#this piece was one I did to test out a new brush I made!

[weatherera]

Decisions

[elfgirlcraftworks]

I already had the pants that I made a couple years ago (interestingly for another wedding) so I decided to level up and add welt pockets to a vest.

Had a family wedding to attend and wanted to look my dapper best. I purchased a couple of bolts of this brushed cotton herringbone with the intention of making a three piece suit out of it.

Did a test run on scrap, cut out my pattern, sewed in my darts, and added the first pocket. Isn't it beautiful?

Reader, she should have stopped there.

I added the pocket to the other side, placing it the same distance from the top of the dart, not the bottom of the vest.

Grievous error that I didn't notice until I put it on after buttons, buttonholes, and topstitching. The pockets don't line up.

Curses.

So I did what any sane and normal person who is most certainly not under a deadline or anything and obsessed about it for a day before making a whole new vest, this one with one waist pocket and one chest pocket.

Final look, complete with pocket watch and purchased jacket (because I'm still trying to fit a jacket pattern).

[macabr3-barbi3]

CTRL ALT DELETE- Task Manager (Vox/Reader)

Something's up with Vox and you offer to help troubleshoot- it both does and does not go how you're expecting it to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/54688282

The least serious thing I've ever written: inspired by the time i started a timer in class one day to see how long my teacher talked about her son instead of teaching us; i ended up realizing 4 months later that i never stopped the timer and it was just running in the background and making my shit slow that entire time lmao there's a screenshot in the ao3 notes

Tags: Stress Relief, Sexual Tension, Chair Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Begging, Computers. Dirty Talk, very basic knowledge of computers

<3<3<3<3<3<3

Your new boss seemed stressed. 

Not in the usual way that he was stressed, either- the note from the assistant you had replaced was that usually when Vox was having an off day he would call for Valentino or have you pull a list of low earners for the month, banishing you from the room in either case. But he hadn’t spent any time with Val in months, basically the entire time that you’d been working with him as a personal assistant after getting promoted from a stage grunt for the news channel.

You had thought for a bit that he might make a move- that maybe that was why he promoted you, that he was charmed enough by you to end the on/off thing he had going on with Val, which made sense based on the timing. But when you tested that theory recently- made double entendres, brushed your hands against his arms or leg or back, blatantly invited him out for dinner and drinks- he didn’t seem interested. He declined your invite, allowed you to touch him without being overcome with lust, and the sex jokes just seemed to go whoosh. 

Right over his head. 

He was on edge and twitchy. He took longer to respond to things than he normally did, his processors slow, occasionally getting a ‘buffering’ message that flashed across his screen when someone asked a question. His hypnotic eye seemed to be suffering as well, the swirls having slowed down now to the point that they were no more mesmerizing than watching paint dry. It was frustrating and enraging him, and in turn frustrating you- he was fucking hot when he was angry, which didn’t help your attraction to him that he was ignoring. 

He was sitting at his desk in the control room when you entered, head in his hands as he stared at a piece of paper on his desk. The monitors were all lit behind him, showing recorded footage of the Tower throughout the day- you spotted a short recording of yourself talking to some of the marketing team a few hours ago. Like a Valentino caricature he read the paper, blinked his eyes a couple times, read it again. Picked it up and pulled it closer to his face like that would help, and his screen scrolled the words along the bottom like his internal system was trying to transcribe it so something he could understand. He finally dropped the paper with a groan, letting it flutter to the floor where it slipped under his chair and stopped just before you. 

“Are you okay, sir?” The question is out before you can stop it, and as was the normal recently it took a few minutes for him to answer. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he muttered, swiveling around to look at you. He clutched the sides of his screen, eyes narrowed and mouth delayed in its movements as he spoke. “I feel like I can’t focus on anything. I can’t process anything. My- just, fucking everything is slow and useless in my head right now! How am I supposed to be a master media manipulator when I can’t fucking concentrate for more than two minutes at a time?”

“You have seemed more… stressed than usual,” you agree. “Are none of your usual relaxing activities helping? Or have you done any troubleshooting?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

“Troubleshooting,” you say again, and at his blank stare you chuckle a little. “You know, doing a couple ‘quick fix’ things to see if that’s what’s causing the problem. Do you have like, a cache or something that you have to clear? An archive dump to get rid of old files?” You let your eyes track his body from top to bottom. “I’m not super familiar with how your… anatomy works?”

God, but you wanted to be.

He blinks a couple times. “I think I used to have someone that did that for me,” he says. “Years ago. I fired them because it didn’t seem necessary, I was running perfectly fine.”

“Yeah, well, that might be what the problem is.” You offer him a soft smile. “Sometimes stuff will work in sub-optimal conditions for a while before it starts causing issues. I used to do programming customer support when I was alive- it’s been a while but I could take a look if you want?”

His mouth twists in a frown. “I guess so,” he agrees. “I’m desperate enough to try anything. I need to be able to fucking concentrate if the Vees are gonna stay on top, everyone fucking knows that Val is hopeless with the business aspect of everything.” He gets the buffering symbol on his screen for a few seconds, groaning and shaking his head as he clears. “What do you need access to?”

“Do you have a way to access your… system? Externally,” you clarify. “I’m not a surgeon- I don’t plan on cutting into you to get to anything.”

Vox gestures behind him. “I can hook up to the monitors,” he says, “but we’ll have to be pretty close, doll. I have to be sitting here to be hooked up, and since this is the only chair, looks like this will have to be your seat.” He pats a hand on his thighs, not so much an invitation as a statement.

You fucking wished. You know this isn’t him trying to initiate anything though- you’d been trying for long enough that you’re ready to give it up and just accept that your hot, overlord boss didn’t want to fuck you. Helping him out felt more important than that anyway, so you would do your best.

“You got it,” you say, and cross the remaining space to perch yourself gracefully on his lap. You push the inappropriate thoughts about how firm his muscles are underneath you- how exactly did this man’s body work? Was it really just his head that was not organic matter?- and let him rotate the chair back to face the monitors.

The sight is intimidating, as is the position- you’re surrounded by reflections of yourself from every angle, Vox’s lithe frame seated behind you. This is where he does most of his business, the background site of everything that VoxTec handles. And he’s trusting you to help him fix whatever is wrong with him so he can get back to handling all of that, free of distraction.

You watch as thick wires come up from the floor to plug into the back of his head, the sharp hiss making you wonder if it was painful or intrusive. You won’t ask though, not when you’re getting ready to try to restore him to his usual ruthless self; he might consider that to be prying.

He pulls something up on the main monitor, the one that sits directly across from you, and waves a hand to it. A little keyboard and mouse emerge from the desk as the monitor powers on, and when you glance back you can see the same thing reflected on his face. “Have at it,” you hear him say, even though you can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring his open programs for the time being in case he needs any of them, the first thing you do is go in and clear his archived files. He’s got entire terabytes of useless information; employee records for people that have been dead or fired for decades; funny videos that he saved; resources for old news stories that are no longer relevant. Some of it you help him upload to a cloud server- after explaining to him what a cloud server is- and create files to designate for actual important shit.

You find the internal browser that he uses to pull information on the fly and help him clear the cache and cookies.

You help him sort security footage from Vee Tower and get rid of stuff that wasn’t actually necessary, like the short bits of static and dead air that happened whenever he used the cameras to teleport around the building. Everything that he has saved about mentions of that fucking radio demon also goes into the garbage. There are some files you can’t access, things like his memories and day to day recordings of conversations and things that he personally is part of. 

You delete what you can and empty the recycling bin.

As the process has gone on, Vox has relaxed more and more behind you. “I still don’t feel completely back to normal,” he murmurs, “but this is already loads better. It’s like a massage directly on my brain. You know, if I still physically had one.”

You hit the keys to open his task manager- CTRL ALT DELETE. “Unholy fuck- Jesus, sir, if you thought that was good this is gonna feel orgasmic,” you say absently, scrolling through the opens apps and programs that he has running. Has this man ever closed anything? You hadn’t realized a person or device could even have so many things going at once. “Do you just leave everything open in the background?”

He peers around your shoulder, bracing his hands on your hips as he sits up a little straighter. The movement causes your stomach to drop, arousal threatening to make itself known, but you push the notion down as he sets his hands back on the arms of the chair. “I guess so?” He watches you scroll through the extensive list. “I guess it just never occurred to me to close them. Opening the programs to use is just like my stream of consciousness I suppose.”

“Kay, well, that’s stopping now.” You click on the first item on the list- VoxtaGram. “I recommend closing non-essential stuff out at least once a month. More, if you have the time to go through everything. For now, just in case, there is something important we’re gonna go through some of the more recently opened things, set them up to open automatically when you start up, before we reboot your system- wait, can we reboot your system entirely without killing you?”

“No worries there, dear. I can, I just haven’t done it in years because it can take a while to start back up afterwards.” He sneers at the social media page. “You can close that shit. Any of Velvette’s crap she can handle on her own. Same with any of the fucking games that Val loads up when he’s bored- can I delete those entirely? Or block them? Fucking moth and his blue-light addiction…”

You get through a lot of the list, Vox kind of dozing off and only passively participating in the process. You’ve got the gist of it; things like his news sources, contacts list and phone, and the notes app are staying open and set to automatically launch when he does reboot and start back up. Pretty much everything else is closed out, things he pulled up for two seconds weeks ago to check on something or another before abandoning it. You’re making excellent progress when the next thing on the list gives you pause.

“Vox? Why is this- oh my god.” You can’t help it- you start laughing, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder as you look at what’s now displayed on the screen.

A stopwatch had apparently been started and never stopped. The elapsed time was over three thousand hours, which came out to something like four months if your mental math was correct. He had had this running constantly in the background since you had started working for him, possibly even before. “I think I found the problem,” you chuckled, and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at the timer continuing to tick. “What is this?”

“What the actual fuck?” He buffers for a second- and you’re pleased to note that it’s already much faster than it has been lately- before you hear a dinging sound coming from him. ‘Fucking Hell, I should have known this was all Valentino’s fault.” He drags a clawed hand down his screen in an imitation of a facepalm. “I was timing him. He was fucking ranting about Angel Dust again while we were in a strategy meeting with Velvette- I had the stopwatch going to see how much of the hour session he wasted talking about that whore. I must have forgotten to turn it off.” He barks out a laugh, throwing his head back with the force of it while you look at him with amusement. “I’m gonna owe you big time for this, doll, you’re a lifesaver.”

You close the app out with a smile. “Just trying to help,” you say. “I think that was probably the worst of it- do you want to just try rebooting now?”

He lets out a groan when the app closes, and the sound shoots through your body straight to your core. “Go for it, hun,” he says, eyes closed as he leans back against the chair. “I think I’m good to go now, but it can’t hurt. You were right, sorting this shit out feeling fucking good.”

You’re suddenly very aware of the dampness of your panties as you bypass ‘kinda horny’ straight to ‘fuck me on this desk.’ You scold yourself mentally: Don’t jump your boss. He’s trusting you to help him right now- do not take advantage of that. Do not ride his leg like you very clearly want to because his voice is fucking hot. Fucking focus.

You clear your throat, closing out the task manager and hitting the button to restart him. “See you in a bit, sir.”

You stay seated on his lap just in case- he might still have something he wants you to do when he comes back online, some settings you could apply to close out things that are used for more than a week or so. It’s definitely not because you like the feeling of his strong thigh underneath you, tantalizingly close to your cunt if you, by chance, decided to tilt your hips forward and start grinding down on him. 

After just a few minutes get a message on the main monitor telling you to wait a moment- things start popping up on the other screens surrounding the central one, and it takes you a moment to recognize the pattern.

Its all videos of you- shot from Vox’s perspective, and a mortifying blush takes over your face. They’re all the moments that you had tried coming onto him. The innuendos and subtle entendres, the times that you touched him, pressed yourself against him in a tight space despite having another way to get to the copy machine, when you had invited him out for dinner. There’s also videos where he had just been watching you, apparently, taken from a distance as you spoke with Velvette or passed instructions along to a member of the team or discreetly tried to hide behind a vending machine when you noticed  Val coming into a room. 

There’s a satisfied grumble behind you, and before you can turn to look at him Vox has settled his claws onto either side of your waist and shifted you over a bit, to rest directly on the erection straining his pants. 

Which is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one.

“Thanks for the reset, doll,” he says, and his voice is a quiet growl as he lets his hands wander from your waist to your hips and back again, claw tipped fingers catching on the fabric. “I got a chance to look at some files while I was under and found quite the treat in your logs.”

This could either be very bad or very, very good. “Sir-”

“You know, I’m usually pretty good at picking up what a woman is putting down. Imagine my surprise when I realize you’ve been coming onto me for weeks and my shit was so fucked up and bogged down that I didn’t even notice. Like that?” He uses one hand to point to a screen in the far left of the central monitor, while he snaked his other hand down to rest on your thigh, his hand large enough to encompass the muscle at the edge of your skirt. On the screen, you had come to his office to drop off meeting notes for something you attended on his behalf. You had dropped the stack as you came around his side of the desk, and got down fully on your knees to pick them up, glancing up at him through your lashes. You blush watching it now- it had seemed obvious to you even then, but watching it now, the way that Vox had seen it? When he didn’t say anything about you being face level with his prick you had used a hand on his thigh to brace yourself to stand up, letting your fingers run along the inner seam of his trousers when you rose back to standing. Still no reaction, and you had left his office equal parts turned on and irritated with yourself. Him not having acted on it had been the final nail in the coffin cementing the fact that he was not interested in the slightest.

You let out a weak exhale as the Vox sitting under you gets his other hand in the same position as the first, using his grip to ever so slightly spread your legs on his lap. He lets his fingers skim your inner thighs and you shake with the effort of not begging him to just touch you. This was delicious, agonizing torture.

“Had I been in my right mind for that display, baby, I would have fucking ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡.” His voice crackles and glitches on the last words, and the sound of it forces a moan from your throat as you let your head fall back. You clutch your hands to the arms of the chair as his tongue- and who even really knew he had a tongue, what the fuck?- licks down the side of your jaw and at your exposed neck. “I would have had you choking on my cock before getting a taste of that sweet cunt and fucking you into the desk for hours.”

One hand finally slips under the edge of your skirt and you shiver when his fingers make contact with your soaked core. “Is that what you want now, babygirl? You want me to give you my cock as thanks for helping to set me straight? To make up for lost time?” He slides a finger under the thin material of your panties, groaning in your ear at how slick he finds you. “That’s what I want, doll. I want you to ride me so hard you go stupid with the feeling, and you never feel whole without some part of me in your cunt for the rest of for-fucking- ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧv̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟.”

“Fuck, please,” you gasp out, the word devolving into a cry as Vox finally slides a finger into you, mindful of the claws as he pushes in and quickly follows the first with a second. He uses his free hand to hold your hips still as you try to grind into his digits, keeps you held firmly against his erection as you squirm in pleasure.

His sharp fingertips angle to prod gently at a spot inside of you that has you seeing stars; your eyes are clenched shut as you ride the feeling, so close to the edge you feel like you’re going to implode with the force of it when you finally tip over. “Fuck, sir, please, so c-close,” you mumble, and his tongue is back to licking at whatever parts of your skin it can reach.

“You wanna come like this, sweetheart?” The main monitor in front of you glitches out, and when it comes back into focus you see yourself on the screen- like a mirror, you’re reflected, and you can see Vox’s grinning face behind you. Your skin is flushed, sweat dripping down your face, the hint of tears along your lashline as your mouth drops open when he adds a third finger. “Look fuckin’ beautiful, baby, you were made for this- maybe we give Valentino a call, he could-”

“No!” You release the arms of the chair to grab onto his wrists where his hands meet your body. “No one- no one but you, sir. Vox, please, l- let me come. Please?” You let a little whine into your voice, and you can see the way his mouth goes lax and his eyes laser-focus on where you’re grabbing at his hands.

“I didn’t mean to join us, dollface, just to record- but you’re right, you’re right.” He pulls his fingers from your pussy, slicing the center of your panties in the process before he brings his digits to his mouth- you watch on the screen as he curls his tongue around each one, licks the flavor of you from his skin and glitches out at the taste. “How could I possibly share such a fucking vision with anyone else?

He shifts you to one side so he can get his dick out, and the sight of it in the monitor, his own arousal beading at the top and rock hard, has you whimpering before it’s even inside of you. He carried himself like a man with a big cock, but Christ.

“Hope you like what you see, hun, cause it’s all yours.” He scoots forward in the seat, tilts his hips forward for the right angle, and moves you back into your previous position with ease- this time, the tip of him is pushing inside you, and you watch in the monitor as you sink inch by glorious inch onto him.

Once you’re fully seated, Vox seems to lose capability for rational thought. “Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he moans, bracing his feet more firmly on the ground to thrust up into you, getting a firm grasp on your hips to pull you down into it. The result is a beautiful stab at that sweet spot inside of you that makes you clench and cry out, watching Vox’s hypnotic eye start spiraling at its normal speed on the screen, and you can see backwards scrolling text of his stream of thoughts- a bunch of nonsensical letters and cuss words interspersed with your name. “I want to fucking- chain you to my desk so I can have this perfect pussy whenever I want it. Fuck, I can’t believe we- we could have been doing this for weeks.” He punctuates his sentence with a hard thrust.

“A-all the more reason to regularly clear your task manager, sir,” you say, so caught up in the feeling of him railing you from below that you can hardly believe you formed a coherent thought. He feels so fucking good and you’re a hair trigger away from collapsing and wringing him for all he’s got.

With one quick movement he’s shifted, and there’s a hand on your throat arching you backwards at the same time that he gets a couple clawed fingers rubbing at your clit. The shock of the combination makes you flutter around his length, a choked noise escaping your throat before he tightens his grip- not enough to really cut off your air supply, but enough that your brain starts going soft and mushy and the vice grip your cunt has on his cock gets impossibly tighter. You can see the shine of your slick arousal coating him every time he pulls out to rut back into you, and the sights and sounds are threatening to rip you into the chasm of ecstasy that you’re flirting with. 

“Vox,” you whine, “please, I’m so fucking- please please please-“ 

“Christ, babygirl, whatever you fucking want.” His eyes are wide and frantic as they watch the place you’re joined, his mouth set in a snarl as he fucks into your pliant body. The cry you release is nothing short of agonized- it’s so fucking close you can taste it, nearly overwhelmed with the tension.

“You wanna fucking cum on my cock? Do it, angel, let me see it- come on, baby, cum for me-“

Your walls clench down hard as you reach your orgasm, Vox’s grip on your throat making your vision and mind go fuzzy with the force of it as you choke on a moan that tries to escape your tensed muscles. You’re distantly aware of Vox thrusting hard into you, more praise and curses falling from his lips as he hits his peak as well, pressing his screen to the side of your face when he relinquishes his handle on your throat to clutch at your hips and grind into your cunt as he spills inside of you. The aftershocks of your release leave you twitching, milking his cock of everything he has to offer before he collapses into the chair behind you, a boneless pile of a man now simply running his hands over any bit of skin he could reach. 

It’s truly a testament to how helpful the reset and reboot had been that Vox’s system doesn’t simply crash. “Fucking Hell, I haven’t felt this good in decades,” he mutters in your ear, and you shiver at the feeling of his tongue brushing the sensitive skin.

“Ha, you think that’s the reboot or the mind-melting orgasms?”

He hums contentedly. “Jury’s out on that, doll. Guess we’ll have to do a re-run on both and see how it stacks up to this one.”

“I’ll make sure to schedule some time out for it,” you chuckle before fixing him with a stern glare through the monitor. “I’m serious about clearing your apps and shit more frequently though. Christ, you had decades of backed up shit open-“

“Don’t berate me while my dick is still inside you, fuck.” He leans you forward far enough to pull out, and you grimace at the feeling of his cum starting to spill back out of you. He notices the expression though- “Whoops, sorry,” he says, and after a quick second during which he tucks his softening prick away he scoops you into his arms, standing from the chair and stepping away from the desk. “Let’s get you cleaned up at the penthouse, angel, what do you say?”

“If you’re carrying me then lead the way.” You gesture towards the door out of the control room. “Just don’t start any timers to see how long it takes to get there or anything and we should be good.”

The glare he fixes you with shouldn’t be hot, but it fucking is. “Hardy har,” he deadpans, and rolls his eyes while he stalks towards the elevator, control room door closing behind you; but there’s a small smile on his screen despite his ire and he’s functioning normally, and when you see the little stopwatch icon pop up in the bottom right corner of his face and start counting, you can’t help but laugh.

[works-of-fanfiction]

Ma Chérie || Charles Leclerc x Reader 

Summary: Charles and the reader have a long history together, and they’ve taken their time realising they’re more than just friends. 

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Angst, short description of assault, swearing. Some badly translated French. 

a/n: this is a long one as it’s split into a few different time periods! I love reading oneshots like this that take you on a bit of a journey through the years. I really hope you like it!

“This is Y/N. She’s just moved here from England.” 

Charles remembered the very first time he set eyes on her. She slowly walked into the room, checking back at the number on the door several times to make sure she had the right class. He could tell her clothes were new and her hair freshly cut, as the front pieces kept falling in front of her eyes no matter how much she pushed them back. He followed her eyes as they scanned the room, taking in every student’s face, every piece of paper stuck to the wall, every potted plant dotted around. He couldn’t help but think how well her name suited her - Y/N. It was perfect, it just made sense somehow. 

He and his fellow classmates were encouraged to give her a warm welcome, but the majority of them were too busy gossiping amongst themselves about an English girl joining the school. Did she speak any French? How was she going to survive in Monaco? 

“Charles.” The teacher called over, gesturing for him to stand. He brushed off his shirt, standing tall and waiting for instruction. “Please can you be Y/N’s tour guide for the day? I’m sure you’ll help her feel welcome and introduce her to the school.” He nodded, smiling over at the new addition to the class. She weaved through the desks to reach the spare one behind him, setting her backpack on the ground. 

“Bonjour.” Charles turned around and smiled, stretching his hand out for her to shake. “Charles.” 

“Y/N.” Her touch was light, her fingers a little cold. She shook his hand nervously, barely able to hold eye contact with him. When Charles turned back to face the front, his palm was tingling and heart pounding inside his chest. How could he concentrate knowing the prettiest girl he’d ever seen was sitting just behind him? 

“So, you’re from England?” Charles asked, clutching his books to his chest as he walked Y/N down the hall. He glanced down, matching his footsteps to hers. He was well aware they were walking pretty slowly, but he didn’t mind being a few minutes late to his next class if it meant he could spend them with her. 

“Born and raised.” 

“What brings you to Monaco?” 

“Well, my Mum recently remarried. I didn’t think we’d actually move here, but here we are.” She threw her hands up in defeat, and Charles sensed she wasn’t impressed with her new home. 

“You don’t sound too happy about that.” 

“I just hate being the new kid.” She shrugged. The two of them stopped outside of her classroom as the crowd tried to squeeze through the door in time before the bell. “Thank you for walking with me.” 

“My pleasure. Maybe, see you later?” 

“See you later.” She gave him a small smile and turned to walk into her class. Charles looked at his watch, picking up his speed down the hall, his shoes squeaking against the polished floor. He spent the next couple of classes constantly checking the clock, hoping he’d see Y/N at lunch. 

And Charles did see Y/N at lunch. In fact, he spent every lunchtime with her until the two of them graduated. He felt lucky to witness the shy new girl blossom into his fun, carefree best friend with the feisty side, and quick wit. She’d done a good job to keep him in line during their last year, making sure he kept his head down and passed his exams, despite how much he just wanted to be karting constantly. Once he received his grades, he realised just how grateful he was for his bossy friend and all the times she’d read out test questions to him whilst he sat in his kart between practices and races. He was sixteen with the dream of being a racing driver, but she never let him forget how important finishing school was. 

The following two years flew by, the two of them both focused on their career goals. During the Summer after they both turned eighteen, they saw each other for the first time in weeks at an old school friend’s party. “Did you get taller?” Charles teased as Y/N stepped out of the car, high heels sinking into the gap between the paving stones.

“Very funny.” She rolled her eyes, hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and moving hair out of her eyes. “Perhaps you’ve shrunk, Perceval.” She leaned in close and kissed the air in front of his face, taunting him. Charles scowled at the nickname and shook his head, earning a laugh from his best friend. “Oh don’t look at me like that! You love me really.” 

She had a habit of using that line on him, and Charles almost fell for it a few times. He was convinced she knew more than she let on, and was saying it to tease him or encourage him to blurt his feelings out loud. He wasn’t sure if ‘love’ was what he felt for her at that age, but he knew she’d been the person he cared about the most ever since she stepped foot in his school nearly four years ago. Some of his friends made fun of him, saying he got stuck with the new girl, but he didn’t see it that way. He wasn’t stuck with her at all. He chose to sit with her at the lunch table, he chose to bring her to the track and show her where he spent all his time, he chose to teach her French every Thursday in his backyard. He didn’t regret a second of it. 

“Come on handsome, let’s get inside.” Y/N smiled, linking arms with him. Her array of nicknames for him never failed to make him smile like an idiot, regardless of how stupid they were. She’d once called him ‘macaroni cheese’ and he didn’t understand it, but he accepted it anyway. He’d learnt over the years that you couldn’t argue with someone like Y/N, as she would always win. Not because she was particularly argumentative, but because Charles would always give in to her. Anyone would think she’d lit some candles, adorned her best black dress and cast a spell on him. 

Charles and Y/N weren’t exactly the pair to be seen drunk at a party, but this one was an exception. They danced around to the music, or at least tried, but it was more like maniacal jumping to their own made-up rhythm. Whenever Y/N’s cup was empty, Charles made sure to be the one to refill it. He knew exactly how she liked her drinks since the first time he secretly made her one using some alcohol he sneaked out of the fridge. They were sixteen and clueless, and it took a lot of trial and error to make something that actually tasted nice. 

“Tu es magnifique ce soir.” You look beautiful tonight. Charles said, raising his voice over the music. Y/N laughed, the compliment making her cheeks feel hot. She was no stranger to Charles’ charm and way with words, but it still made her feel special when he said such things. Being called beautiful by someone like Charles is not something that happens to a person everyday. 

“Merci, mon chéri.” Thank you, my dear. Y/N cooed, pulling her best friend into a hug. The two of them stood there for a moment, letting the music hum and vibrate around them. The floor felt like it was buzzing beneath them, and the air in the room was practically non-existent. “I’m going to get some fresh air.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“No, no! You stay here and have fun. I’ll be back soon.” Y/N disappeared into the crowd, leaving Charles to guard their drinks and make small talk with old faces he recognised from school. What started as a couple minutes of fresh air turned into almost an hour, and Charles couldn’t mingle any longer. He set off through the house, calling out her name in every room. A quick glance out of the window confirmed she wasn’t outside anymore, so he followed his footsteps back to their original spot, but she wasn’t there. 

He bumped into one of her past friends from history class in the hallway. “Have you seen Y/N? She went out for some fresh air but she hasn’t come back yet.” 

“I think I saw her go upstairs. That was about fifteen minutes ago.” 

“Thank you.” Charles rounded the corner and bolted up the stairs, using the handrail to pull himself up. People were scattered around, whispering in pairs or making out in the corners. It almost made Charles laugh at how stereotypical the scene was. It looked exactly like the kind of thing you’d see in an American teen movie. 

“Y/N, are you up here?” He called out. He knocked on a couple of doors and took the lack of response as an answer. He wasn’t planning on barging in and catching some former classmates under the covers together. There was one more door cracked open to the right, so he stood outside of it and pressed his ear against the wood. 

He heard voices, and what sounded like somebody stumbling across the wooden floor. Someone hushed and demanded the other keep quiet, but what he heard next made Charles jolt into action. 

“Please don’t, please get off of me.” It was Y/N. He could pick out her voice in a line-up. She sounded scared, and the only response she was getting from whoever she was with was a string of ‘be quiet’s and other things he’d rather not remember. Charles threw the door open, the sight before him making his heart sink. He was right, but boy did he wish he wasn’t going to be. Y/N was pressed against the wall, one of her shoes missing and her dress pulled up on one side. A guy had his hands on the wall on either side of her head, trapping her in. 

Charles jumped at the stranger, pushing him away from Y/N. He wasn’t one for violence, so didn’t stay for a fight. His attention went straight back to Y/N, and he grabbed her hand to lead her out of the room. She kicked off her remaining shoe and the two of them ran down the stairs, leaving through the front door and across the garden until they were in the street, far away from that awful room. 

“My girl… my girl, are you OK?” He asked, both hands gently placed on her shoulders, holding her up. Y/N couldn’t even look Charles in the eye. Her gaze remained fixed on the ground, staring at her bare feet as little stones on the road dug into her soles. “Y/N, please talk to me.” 

“I’m sorry, Charles. I’m so sorry, I don’t know - “ 

“Why are you saying sorry? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“I went up there with him, Charles. I was basically asking for it.” Y/N burst into tears, dropping to sit down on the ground. Charles tugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders, sitting down beside her. “I’m so stupid.” 

“You are not stupid. That guy was a total creep and an asshole. It’s not your fault.” He leaned into her, settling his shoulder right beside hers so she could comfortably rest her head if she wanted to. Instead, she fell into his lap and cried into his chest, clinging onto his shirt and rubbing her nose against his collarbone. “It’s OK, I’m here. It’s OK.” He stroked her back gently, pulling her as close as he could to make her feel safe. The two of them stayed there for what felt like hours, until Charles was able to encourage her to stand so he could get her home. 

“Please can I stay with you tonight? I really don’t want to be alone.” She asked timidly, wiping her eyes.

“Of course. Come on.” 

Luckily no one else was awake when they got back, so he didn’t have to explain what had happened. Y/N was silent as she watched Charles dart from room to room to gather everything he needed to make sure she was comfortable. She’d stayed over many times before, but this time was different. She needed him now more than ever. 

Charles gave her a spare pair of pyjama pants and one of his t-shirts. Whilst she was getting changed in the bathroom, he pushed the contents of his nightstand into a drawer so he could make space for Y/N. He laid out a glass of water with some facial wipes he found. Surely his mother wouldn’t mind them borrowing some. 

He also put out a pair of thick, comfy socks should she choose to wear them, and a hairbrush. He turned the small table lamp on at the other side, giving the room a warm hue. Climbing into bed, he lifted the covers at Y/N’s side and fluffed up the pillow. 

Seeing Charles’ efforts in front of her made Y/N want to cry all over again. No matter what happened, Charles was always there to take care of her. She thanked her lucky stars that he was there tonight and got her out of that situation before it was too late. She was shaken up, a little drunk, and desperate to lie down. Her head felt heavy like a bowling ball, and her feet stung from wearing those god-awful heels all evening. She wasn’t too sad about leaving them behind. “Can I get you anything else?” Charles whispered, rolling over to face her in bed. She shook her head, giving him a small smile to show her appreciation for everything he’d done. 

“You’ve done enough. Thank you.” 

Charles carefully lifted his hand to her cheek, running the back of his fingers over her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed and she leaned into his touch, shuffling closer to him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Charles.” 

He didn’t know what to say back. He wished there was some way he could show her that she’d never have to find out what life would be like without him. He had no intention of going anywhere. Was it too dramatic for an eighteen year-old to feel as such? Sometimes he wondered whether there were enough words to explain how much he cared for her. 

“Charles Leclerc, how does it feel to be a Formula One race winner?” Y/N beamed, pouring a glass of champagne and thrusting it into his hand. It was a stark difference from being sprayed and covered with it as he was just an hour before. 

“I can’t believe it. I can’t describe it!” He grinned, adrenaline still coursing through his body and his hands a little shaky. “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

“It’s the first of many! We have to celebrate properly. Let me take you out tonight.” 

“I can’t tonight, I promised I’d celebrate with the team.” 

“In that case, come over when we get back to Monaco! We can stay in and I can cook the chicken pasta you love so much.” 

“Sounds perfect.” Charles smiled, pecking her cheek. “I have to run. There’s so much to do and people to speak to.” 

“Of course. Go!” Y/N nudged her friend out of the door, watching him disappear out of view. Cheers erupted from the crowd outside as their winner faced them once more. Her heart swelled with pride and excitement for her best friend, and she was so happy he’d finally gotten the win he’d always wanted. 

Y/N dashed around her apartment, making sure everything was perfect and the finishing touches were in place. “Lorenzo! Is the cake in the fridge?” She called, quickly changing her shoes in the hallway. 

“On the top shelf like you asked.” 

The knock on the door came perfectly on time. She dashed through the apartment, telling everyone to get into their hiding spots. Lorenzo and Arthur squeezed into the coat closet near the door, waiting to throw confetti over their brother. “Salut! I brought your favourite pastry from the bakery on the corner.” Charles chimed, waving the paper bag in the air.

“Merci! Come in, come in.” Y/N took the bag and ushered Charles inside. His brothers listened out for their footsteps and Y/N’s cue as they held their breath in the closet. “Finally, we can celebrate properly!” She raised her voice, getting the attention of all the hidden guests. 

Lorenzo flung the door open and jumped out with Arthur, throwing handfuls of red confetti at Charles. “Surprise!” They shouted, voices joining them from the living room. Y/N guided Charles into the room where his fellow drivers, friends and family were waiting in front of a table covered with snacks, each plate personalised with little cocktail sticks with Charles’ face on. Y/N didn’t leave a single detail unaccounted for. 

“What! How long have you been planning this?” Charles turned to Y/N who could not stop grinning. “You’re so sneaky!” 

“Don’t worry! I still made that pasta I promised, just a slightly bigger portion.” She laughed, gesturing to the crowd stood behind her. Charles scooped her up into a hug, thanking her over and over again. 

He greeted his family, so Y/N took the opportunity to pop into the kitchen and put the pastries into the cabinet. “He seemed pretty surprised. And here you were worrying he’d figured you out.” She turned to find Louis behind her, leaning against the doorframe. It had taken some convincing to get her boyfriend to attend Charles’ party, as he felt he had no place considering he’d only met the driver once. Y/N thought there was more to it, but the last thing she wanted was to start an argument. She also didn’t really want to find out whether her suspicions were right or not. 

“This is the least I could do. He travels so much, he never gets to celebrate with his family properly!”

“Everyone needs a friend like you, ma chérie.” Louis smiled. Y/N struggled to smile back at the sound of that nickname, as she was so used to it coming out of Charles’ mouth. She hadn’t been with Louis long, but she had the feeling he was more certain of her than she was of him. His traditional romantic charms worked on her in the first month, but something had her distracted more recently. Between work, travelling for Charles’ races and helping her mother renovate her house, she hadn’t had much time to see Louis and let their relationship progress. She tried not to make herself feel guilty for it. After all, they’d only known each other for three months. 

“Y/N! I need a drink!” Charles burst into the room, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Louis. “Oh… salut.” 

“Salut.” Louis nodded, looking Charles up and down. He was no stranger to him and his friendship with Y/N, but that didn’t stop him being jealous. “Congratulations on your win.” 

“Thank you.” Charles faked a smile, sensing the well wishes weren’t exactly genuine. Louis stepped aside so Charles could get a drink. He watched the driver hug his girlfriend and gritted his teeth, mentally trying to remind himself that he was the one dating Y/N. They’d known each other for years, if something was going to happen between them then it would’ve been a done deal a long time ago. 

The party got off to a great start. Everyone ate and drank and asked Charles a thousand questions about the race in Belgium. Lando made sure he took plenty of pictures, no matter how embarrassing some turned out to be. Daniel pulled out his best pout, posing and loving every minute of it. It made Y/N incredibly happy to see everybody in one room, celebrating Charles and putting the competition aside. He deserved to be surrounded by great people. 

Later in the night, Charles found himself on the balcony beside Louis. He’d only popped out for some air and found his friend’s date nursing a cigarette. Probably not his first of the night, Charles thought. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was out here.” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t get in your way.” Louis scoffed, dying his cigarette out on the railing and flicking the butt into the distance. 

“Classy. Just throw it anywhere you want.” 

“What’s it to you? Huh? Shouldn’t you be inside being the centre of attention?” 

“Have you got a problem? If you do then be a man about it and tell me instead of acting like a child.” Charles turned to face Louis, but chose not to step any closer to him. He’d rather stay where he couldn’t smell his smoker’s breath. 

“My problem is your obsession with my girlfriend.” Louis spat, crossing his arms and leaning against the railing. 

“She threw this party for me! I’m here because she invited me. It’s just a shame she invited you too. I’m not obsessed with her, she’s my best friend.” 

“Yeah, your best friend that you clearly want to fuck.” 

“And so what if I did? What are you going to do about it?” Charles laughed at Louis, finding the whole conversation pointless and embarrassing. He didn’t like hearing him speak about Y/N like that, but he knew Louis didn’t have a leg to stand on. Nothing more than sharing a bed and a few friendly kisses on the cheek had ever happened between him and Y/N. 

“Why don’t you do us both a favour and leave her alone?” 

“I’ve known her since I was fourteen, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“Yeah yeah I know the story. You just felt sorry for the new girl and couldn’t let go. She doesn’t need you to babysit her anymore.” Louis walked towards Charles in an attempt to intimidate him. Charles leaned back, not giving him the opportunity to get in his face. “Stop being such an asshole and leave her alone.” 

“Get out.” They both turned to see Y/N stood at the door, the cake balanced in her hands. “Why are you still standing there, Louis? Get out!” 

“Y/N, come on! It’s him you should be telling to leave.” Louis protested, stepping towards her. She staggered back, putting the cake down on the counter.

“Charles isn’t going anywhere. This is his party to celebrate his success, his win, which is far more than you’ve ever done.” 

“I didn’t have you down as such a bitch.” 

“Get out of my apartment. And lose my number whilst you’re at it.” Charles came inside and closed the door to the balcony, joining Y/N. 

Louis barged past them both, and Charles followed him to make sure he left. Some of the guests heard the commotion and poked their heads out of the living room, watching Louis leave and slam the door behind him. Back in the kitchen, Y/N shakily cut the cake into slices as she tried to hide the anger rushing through her. She knew something wasn’t right with Louis and now it all made sense. He was just another jealous guy who couldn’t handle a girl having male friends. Deep down, she knew why it would never work with anyone. She compared everyone to Charles and they never came close. Nobody ever understood her or made her laugh like he did. Nobody ever cared or knew exactly what she needed like him. She only wished she could find the confidence to tell him so she could stop forcing herself to date these people she knew she didn’t really want. 

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” 

“Charles, do not apologise to me. It’s my own fault for having horrible taste in men.” She looked at the cake and sighed, seeing how uneven her slices were. Perhaps she shouldn’t have operated a knife whilst angry. 

Charles took over and helped her pack the slices into little bags for the guests to take home. He figured the night was coming to an end anyway, so he handed them out and gave everyone a hug goodbye. They each congratulated him again and he felt overwhelmed with love and support. Regardless of it being his night, he couldn’t help but think about Y/N. She deserved so much better than guys who couldn’t see past their childish delusions. 

The two of them sat down together with a slice of cake and two forks. Y/N rested her legs over Charles’, digging in from her side. “Do I just attract the weird ones?” She asked, mouth full and cake crumbs spraying out. Charles laughed, brushing crumbs off of his lap. She swallowed and covered her mouth in embarrassment. “Sorry!” 

“I can’t believe you’re blaming yourself! You know how amazing you are. It’s their fault they’re too blind to see it.” Charles couldn’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth. Y/N dropped her fork, taking the plate and setting it down on the coffee table. 

“Do you mean that?” She asked, fidgeting with her hands. She moved her legs so they were no longer on top of him, and Charles was somewhat disappointed by it. 

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.” Charles turned to face her, kneeling on the sofa so he could scoot closer. “Y/N, you are the best person I know. I mean, look at everything you did for me tonight! Nobody else in the world would go to such lengths for me.” 

“It’s because you deserve it. Celebrating with expensive champagne around the world is one thing, but coming home and enjoying it with your family is so much more. That’s why I threw the party.” 

“Thank you.” He reached over to hold her hand, his thumb drawing shapes on her knuckles. “You mean so much to me, Y/N. Please don’t put yourself down because a dumb guy couldn’t see how special you are.” 

The two of them sat in silence for a moment, exchanging small touches as their fingers entwined in Y/N’s lap. They both looked up at the same time, meeting one another’s eyes. “Charles.” She whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d been so close, and her heart was pounding. 

“I’ve said too much, haven’t I?” 

“No, no. Of course not.” 

Charles lifted her arm and kissed the back of her hand. He didn’t break eye contact, and Y/N almost forgot to blink. “Would you give me a chance?” He asked quietly, nervously awaiting her answer. He’d spent seven years growing to love her and couldn’t wait any longer. Perhaps it was selfish that he felt inspired to admit his feelings on the same night as her breakup, but he knew he needed to tell her before he flew out to Italy. 

“Charles, I… I had no idea.” 

“Because I’m a fool for not saying something sooner.” 

“Are you sure you’re not just saying this because you feel sorry for me?” 

Charles laughed, shaking his head whilst squeezing her hand lovingly. “What would I get out of lying to you, ma chérie?” There it was, the nickname that Y/N loved so much. The nickname that only sounded right when it came from Charles. “If you don’t feel the same, I’ll understand.” 

“Now you’re the one being ridiculous. I will give you a chance if you give me one.” 

“I’d like nothing more.” Charles pulled her into a hug, holding her close, his right hand settling in the back of her hair. His heart felt like it could explode. Not even winning his first race could compare to the happiness he felt having her there with him. Being able to hold her the way he’d always wanted. Being able to finally say how he felt out loud, and not hide behind the ‘best friend’ title anymore. 

“Shall we finish this cake?” Y/N asked, pulling away. Charles nodded, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. It was quick, but filled with love. The two of them had waited forever to share such a moment, and it meant more than either of them could ever put into words. Y/N couldn’t believe he’d shared the same feelings for so long, and she couldn’t wait to be by his side through everything as more than just his friend. 

[thebubblesareevil]

A Deal is a Deal…

I haven’t really posted any danny/kaldur in a bit so here you go

Danny was having a really long, really stupid day.

First he was late for his exam because he woke up to kitty and johnny fighting in his apartment. By the time he got that sorted out he had to rush to campus.

Then, by some miracle, the proctor let him in despite being late only to realize he was in the wrong exam halfway through. (He decided to finish the test and turn it in rather than admit his mistake.)

Then he finally managed to stop and get a truly unholy cup of coffee that he topped off with his last bit of ecto shot only for someone to run into him, spilling his coffee.

Which really didn’t make the blind date Sam set him up with anywhere near bearable. She was nice, don’t get him wrong, however Sam has two types of friends outside of Tucker and him. He was pretty sure he would have preferred hearing about the deforestation of the Amazon than have the heavily pierced girl get wayyy too excited when she realized he was from Amity Park. After he finally escaped with the excuse of feeding his dog Sam decided to call to find out how the date went.

“She did the thing Sam.” He stated bluntly as he struggled to unlock his door.

“And which thing would that be Danny? The one where she’s interested in your personality or the thing where you might need a restraining order?” He groaned, thumping his head on the door before checking the hall for neighbors. With the coast clear he phased through, once more leaving his arch nemesis to fight another day.

“The second one, or at least that definitely seemed where it was heading. She kept asking about all my favorite cemeteries back home.” He threw his keys on the counter, dropping his bag to the floor.

“Well did you tell her about the one near the old clocktower? I’m sure she loved that.”

“Sam, she wasn’t asking about nightly walks and talking to ghosts. She made some not so subtle hints about what she liked to do there.” He could hear Sam wince through the phone.

“Eww, sorry Danny. She really seemed like someone you would click with.” He sighed as he looked through the bare cabinets.

“Not your fault, to be fair things were going great till that point. Plus most people don’t see half as much as I do in graveyards. It could have been worse.” He grinned.

“Oh yeah, what are you thinking?”

“Do you remember that guy from the protest you set me up with awhile back?”

“You mean Orion? What about him? You said he tried to gas light you.” Sam almost sounded offended on behalf of her semi-cannibalistic friend.

“Oh he did more than that. He followed me home.”

“No!”

“Yep, apparently I was being stingy and he thought I owed him so he tried to steal my bike.” He laughed.

“Ugh, don’t worry I’ll be sure to pass the word on to his new partner Marcy. I guarantee he’ll regret it.” He shrugged as he ate a piece of plain bread.

“It’s whatever, at least he didn’t try to kill me.” Sam sighed.

“It was one time!”

“Oh really?” He said as he munched. “If I remember correctly it happened twice.” He could hear the sound of Sam smacking her forehead.

“The first time doesn’t count, that was an accident! Besides Valerie tried way more than I did.” She huffed.

“Yeah, I know.” He yawned, heading over to the bathroom, discarding his socks and shoes along the way. “Some how neither of you are even my worst exes to date.” Sam snorted.

“No I think that title belongs to that crazy Viking that was convinced you were going to start Ragnarok.” Danny felt a small tug at his core as he brushed his teeth.

“What can I say? She was charismatic!” He claimed after spitting into the sink.

“Yeah well Miss. Charismatic nearly talked you into a war with her brother just because he flirted with you.” The tug on his core got stronger. “Personally I would have gone with the brother.” Danny nodded as he nearly tripped walking to his bed.

“I mean, that was never in question. Regardless, I’m swearing off Vikings for the next century.” Danny began struggling to take his shirt off without setting down the phone. The tug on his core was stronger than ever, try as he might to ignore it.

“You really suck at this dating thing, I killed you twice and somehow I’m still not in your top ten-” Danny struggled to escape his stupid shirt as his core PULLED, sending him tumbling to the ground. With a groan Danny finally gave in and just pulled the stupid shirt through his body only to come face to face to someone that was distinctly NOT his bed.

He looked around,coming face to face to someone he was actively avoiding.

“Ello Phantom? How’s death going for ye.”

John Constantine, accompanied by what appeared to be some of the newer members of the Justice League.

Danny decided the best option for this would be to do his best impression of a confused, semi-hungover college student.

“Look man, I don’t know who you are, or what you want but do you have some coffee or something? I’m dying over here.”

“Yet not foolin anyone mate. Need a favor from you. Or rather your better half of you don’t mind.” John replied vaguely as he rubbed his hands together before blowing some kind of powder all over Danny.

Danny stood there flabbergasted, as a rain of dust? Covered him head to toe. He stood there for a minute before his face started to twitch as John began to chant a spell. Danny took a deep breath and-

“AACCHHOOO” John jumped back as the sneeze disrupted the dust.

“What the hell man?” He scolds as he rubbed his nose. John grunted.

“Stubborn little shit huh? Too bad we need the Phantom and he’s coming out one way or another.” Once more he began to chant, Danny however chose to ignore this fact as he took in the faces surrounding the circle. They were clearly some of the younger heroes, even a few apprentices by the looks of it. But Danny really didn’t have time for this, he had another exam tomorrow.

“Look man, I’m not sure what you’ve been smokin or how I got here but unless you’re gonna help me study for my engineering exam, then I gotta go.”

“Please wait.” Danny spun around to face the hero standing behind him, stopping him before he even started to leave. The handsome hero stood tall, clearly he was the leader of this group, which begged the question of-

“Why? What you guys possibly want from me?”

“Allow me to explain. I am Kaldur’ahm, though I am also known as Aquaman. We are seeking the help of a spirit of hope and protection that goes by the name of Phantom. We need his help.” Danny gave the gilled hero a considering look.

“With what?” Kaldur’ahm somehow managed to stand up even straighter.

“A powerful magician by the name of Zatanna was pulled into the Infinite Realms. We need to help of Phantom so we can venture into the realms to retrieve her.” He replied with a barely noticeable sense of urgency. Danny raised a brow.

“You want to go to another dimension? With help from a ghost named Phantom? And you want my help to what? Summon him?” John scoffed, completely ignoring the glare Aquaman sent his way.

“Don’t go playin dumb mate. How exactly do you think you got here.” He pointed to the floor “ That there is a summoning circle, invoking Phantom by name. Now here’s how I figure it. Either you’ve gone and disguised yourself or you decided to take this poor sod for a joy ride.” He smirked. “So which one is it mate?” Danny glared at the Englishman.

“Whether you’re Phantom or not we need help.” Danny sighed as he looked back at the hero.

“Well what’s in it for me? You dragged me from my apartment and you want my help, give me a reason.” He announced.

“Name your price demon.” Danny rolled his eyes at the annoying sorcerer.

“Not a demon.” He paused, trying to figure out what he could ask for as the little heroes started to get nervous. He was gonna help them one way or another, ideally they would give up on him and send him back to his apartment. It would be easy enough to get a magician out of the realms. Danny took one more look around the circle before grinning.

“How about a date?” He said, looking directly at Kaldur’ahm with a grin. He laughed before he continued “Just Kidd-”

“Deal.” Danny choked on his own spit as his cheeks lit up like a Christmas tree. John shouting from the other side of the circle.

“What the bloody hell kind of request was that?!?”

“ I didn’t think he’d say yes!!!!” Danny covered his cheeks as the handsome hero smiled at him.

“A small sacrifice to help a friend, though not a difficult one.” Danny’s face turned a darker shade of red as green started to bleed into his cheeks. ‘Was this guy seriously flirting with him right now?!?’ The hero raised a single smug brow at him, tilting his head just slightly to the side.

“Do we have a deal?” Danny took a deep breath, coughing into his hand.

“Uh, yeah sure, I’ll get your friend back from the realms.” Kaldur’ahm smiled, Danny blushed. “I guess I’ll just… yeah.”

“We shall begin preparations immediately. Once Phantom arrives we should head out immediately, the less time Zatanna spends in the realms the better.” His face closing off as he got serious, Danny couldn’t deny it was cute before he realized what he said.

“Oh, yeah no, you guys aren’t going.” John practically growled causing the hairy green kid to back up.

“Like hell we aren’t! Just because you claim to be a spirit of protection doesn’t mean I trust ye.” Danny turned a steely glare on the sorcerer as he walked towards him. He made it all the way to the edge and the look of confidence he’d been sporting during this whole ordeal dropped from his face as Danny stepped over the edge of the circle.

“I don’t give two shits if you trust me! You aren’t welcome in the Realms John Constantine. Not until you get that piece of patchwork you call a soul sorted out!” He looked around at the rest of the people in the room. “Besides, it’s against the rules to bring the living into the Realms and I’d rather not have to deal with Walker today, thank you very much.” John glared.

“Look here you dead piece of sh-”

“HALF-dead thank you.” He interrupted as he started to float off the ground. “Now buzz off before I change my mind.” John looked as though he intended to reply when Kaldur’ahm stopped him.

“Enough Constantine, we need his help. For Zatanna.” The British asshole grumbled to himself as he scurried off to the side. Danny stepped back on the ground, making his way over to the Atlantean.

“Hey Kaldur’ahm, before I get your friend, you don’t actually have to go on a date with me.” He looked away as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I was gonna help you anyway, I just wanted to get under Johnny boy’s skin.” He just looked at Danny with a smile.

“I thank you, however a deal is a deal, it’s too late to back out now.” Danny’s jaw dropped as the Atlantean grinned. “And please, call me Kaldur.” Danny coughed into his hand to try to force himself to talk.

“Okay… well… okay then… um…” he studdered, dying a little more inside. “I’m gonna go get your friend we can…uh… talk about the details after.” Kaldur nodded as Danny reached a hand behind him to open a portal.

“Agreed, and please be careful Phantom.” Danny paused.

“You can, you can call me Danny.” He back with a slight stutter.

“Very well Danny.” He smiled. Danny blushes as he backed up into the portal, tripping over his own two feet as he fell through. Once on the other side he quickly reached out to find the intruder in his domain. She was easy enough to find, he didn’t even bother transforming. She was standing on an unclaimed floating island only a few miles from where he opened the portal.

Armed with the knowledge that she regularly worked with superheroes he thought it would be best to announce his presence before he surprised her.

“You wouldn’t happen to be a magician by the name of Zatanna would you?” The fierce woman turned, her wand posed, ready to send a flurry of spells at a moments notice.

“And if I am?” Danny smiled.

“A friend of yours asked me to come get you.” She looked at him suspiciously.

“And which friend would that be?”

“A cute Atlantian with a killer sense of humor, named Kaldur.” She raised an eyebrow at that.

“I’ve never heard him described as having a sense of humor.” Danny chuckled.

“Yeah, I told him I’d come get you in exchange for a date. He didn’t even hesitate. Like he’d actually wanna go on a date with a ghost!” He replied with a laugh. Zatanna however did not join in and instead looked Danny up and down before looking him dead in the eyes. She grinned.

“Gotta say I can’t exactly blame him. It’s not often he gets asked out by handsome shirtless men.” Danny squinted at her confused before looking down. His eyes went wide as he realized he hadn’t been wearing a shirt the whole time!

[dee002]

Betraying a Spider (Miguel O'hara x reader)

synopsis: you love Miguel and have been trying your best to ignore the parts of him you didn't like. these parts of him being his obsession with work and desire to control others leading him to make morally questionable actions. the recent encounter with Miles Morales leads you to cross Miguel and an argument follows.

word count: 1809

genre: angst

warnings: sfw, cussing, spoilers for Across the Spider-verse

notes: first fic... hope this goes well.

also i don't know how to add a line so here:

______________________________________________________________

you met Miguel a couple of years ago. he sought you out after your blood miraculously saved your best friend, Peter Parker.

in your universe, Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider and he became the one and only spiderman. you were also bitten by a radioactive spider. however, this spider simply made you sick and failed to give you any super powers.

you continued to believe you were powerless until the day Peter had been beaten to the brink of death in a fight alongside the avengers. he'd been in a coma for six months. Dr. Bruce Banner worked tirelessly for a solution to wake him up, trying all kinds of tests and experiments to save him. eventually, he began to believe that nothing could be done for your friend. that was until Dr. Banner discovered that you too were bitten by a radioactive spider and decided that a blood transfusion from your body to Peter's may elicit some sort of reaction in Peter. His theory proved to be correct. Peter woke up within minutes of your blood in his veins.

when Miguel received word that a colleague he had assumed was all but dead was in fact very alive and back swinging through the streets of new york, he had to meet the woman responsible for saving him. after running more tests with Dr. Banner and confirming that it was in fact your blood that saved Peter, he took you back to HQ. here you discovered that while you didn't have super strength or the ability to shoot webs from your wrists, you still possessed a super ability: healing. and were thus deemed a Spiderwoman. your dna was altered by the spider and after experimenting with other spider people and regular humans it appeared that your blood affected the spider people and no one else.

as you worked at HQ and integrated into spider society, you grew closer to Miguel. this in itself seemed a miracle as Miguel made it a point to distance himself from everyone. but somehow, you slipped through the cracks. work meetings turned into outside of work coffee, coffee turned into dates, and dates turned into marriage. the two of you were infatuated with each other. for Miguel, you gave a reason to keep going, a purpose that meant more than holding the spider-verse together. for you, Miguel made life make sense. he made it seem like everything you've ever been through was worth it because those events led you to him. you love his drive, his passion, his commitment and, his dedication to what he believed was the right thing. coincidentally, the things you loved about him were also the things you hated.

for years you watched Miguel make callous moves. sending people dazed and confused back to their universes', tearing families apart, standing by and watching people die all in the name of keeping the multiverse in order. you had heard his story, seen the evidence, personally witnessed black holes attempting to swallow a universe whole. that's why you always brushed his actions off. reasoning with yourself that everything he did was for the greater good. most of the time you felt sympathy for Miguel. the weight of thousands of universes rested on his shoulders. you couldn't begin to understand the pressure he felt constantly. there was no way for you to begin to comprehend the burden he felt, knowing that if he allowed one piece to be out of line everything could come toppling over.

but now that you've met Miles Morales, seen the live footage from Lyla of Miguel's harsh words to the child during their fight, you couldn't acquiesce to Miguel's methods anymore. there was no way you could stand by idle and let Miguel terrorize a child like this. so as Miguel comes bursting through to the lab in attempts to rip Miles out of the Go Home Machine, you prematurely override the system and let Miles leave.

"what did you just do?" Miguel asks with an look of astonishment, still breathing heavily from the chase.

the room full of spiders was dead quiet, and in a state of disbelief that you would betray Miguel so brazzenly and in front of everyone. part of you couldn't believe what you did either. as you look at Miguel you find yourself regretting your actions, too stunned to do anything but gawk at him and plead with your eyes. he looked so angry, so conflicted. you could see his two sides fighting with each other. one Miguel that was the guardian on the multiverse, the other Miguel that was the one that loved you. you should have known which one would win.

He sighed and looked away from your gaze, "take her to the brig."

he can't be serious.

it seems like everyone else around you doubts his sincerity as well because all the spiders are hesitant to move. casting glances at each other seeing who will dare to put you, one of the most respected spider people and one of the only people Miguel cares for, in a cell.

"Miguel! are you-" you begin to voice your opposition but are promptly cut off.

"I said, take her to the brig," Miguel speaks more firmly, red eyes locking with the spiders nearest you.

He is serious.

two pairs of hands grab your arms and direct you to the brig. you decide to save yourself from anymore public embarrassment by keeping your mouth shut. you know that if you were to open it now, all that would come out would be pitiful whimpers and words meant for Miguel to forget the whole thing.

as you went you cast him glances over your shoulder but his eyes weren't on you. completely in business mode, you hear him send Gwen back to her universe and tell Jess and Ben to go to Miles' universe and he'd meet them there "after i deal with her."

the callousness and disassociation in his voice made tears well up in your eyes. your brain immediately jumped to all the worse conclusions.

will he send me back home? will he leave me locked up and try me for treason?

no, worse.

will he leave me? will he not love me anymore?

these thoughts continue to swirl in your head as you reach the brig. the two spiders handling you reluctantly lock you in the small laser bound room and leave as quickly as they came. as part of any functioning society, you need a brig and a court of law. both of which Miguel had built in the sub levels of HQ. both of which were rarely used. the brig was different that the holding room for anomalies as this room was made for law breaking spider people. as it were you are the only person in any of the cells. this was to your benefit as you didn't want anyone seeing you in the state that you were in. on the verge of a panic attack, you let a few tears fall out and pulled your knees up to your chest on the floor. in an attempt to self sooth you tried to reason that he was just putting up a strong front because you had the brilliant idea to defy him in front of all of spider society. he wouldn't actually hate you. he wouldn't cast you aside now, not after all this time. he loves you.

dosen't he?

or maybe because everyone saw the one person who should have been committed to Miguel and all of his efforts undermine him and everything he's built, he'd be force to get rid of you. he couldn't possibly be seen with you again after this. it's not a matter of ego, God knows he doesn't care what others think of him. it's a matter of business. after all what you did was treasonous.

the pessimistic thoughts are getting the best of you. you're ready to beg Miguel for forgiveness.

but, why?

you believe you did the right thing and would do it again, if it weren't for the consequences.

suddenly, a doorway opens in the lasers and Miguel steps in. he leans against the nearest wall you and looks down at you. the turmoil is evident in the crease of his brow.

"why?" is all he asks.

"what you're doing isn't right. what you said to that child wasn't right. and i know, i know you think it needs to be done but there has to be a better way!" as you speak you still avoid his eyes, holding the tears at bay.

"it's not about what i think is right. it's about what is. you've seen the evidence. you've seen what i," he takes a breath to control his rising anger, "what i have been through. you've seen all of it and you're still resistant?"

"i know! i know! and i'm not trying to discredit anything you've been through. you know i would never ever doubt you. but that doesn't change the fact that this is wrong!"

miguel shakes his head in disbelief at you. most of his reserve has vanished, the volume of his words ever increasing. "then why go against me now? you've been helping me for years! you never said anything!"

"i have! you just never listen to me Miguel! i have tried to get you to see it another way but you're so damn stubborn! but you're not always right and maybe there is another way to do this! just give the kid a chance."

"no. there isn't another way and you know that."

"but how will you know if you don't try and work with him. maybe the kid knows something you don't-"

"enough," accepting that his one true love was a lost cause, he slipped back to stoicism. a quality you were used to seeing him portray however it had never been aimed at you, "this discussion is over as it is clear you are choosing to be foolish."

the decisiveness of his bitter words made tears spill from your eyes. he walks over to your defeated form and crouches down to be eyelevel with you. he grabs your jaw and firmly lifts your chin.

"look at me." his words are airish and almost a whisper but are decidedly harsh.

you do as he says. meeting his eyes does nothing more than make you feel completely broken.

"i'm so disappointed. i thought we were one mi vida. but now you blatantly betray me-," he cuts himself off as anguish begins to seep through his words, "i don't have time for this. i'll deal with you when i get back."

for a moment his touch softens. but he abruptly rises and exits the cell, leaving you to crumble into a sobbing mess on the floor, inconsolable and heartbroken.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------notes: ok props to writers cause this was hard af and i got sick of myself half way through. i used to be able to write but i guess thats what happens when you dont use your gifts. anyways... like and subscribe? :/

[loadedberetta]

the CoD boys react - !SO Reader being pregnant

rating: M

warning/content: general pregnancy stuff; description of pregnancy pain and birth; fluff; female Reader

[series with random headcanons about specific situations involving the reader and how CoD characters would react to them; mostly the 141, but Alejandro and Rudy, Laswell, Farah, König, and others will make appearances too]

other parts: [tattoo] [knife tricks] [drawing] [coming soon]

find me on ao3 // MASTERLIST

Ghost

"you're not doing [blank] alone."

will fight God if that's what it takes; let it be the groceries or ordering a new couch

found out by sheer intuition; you were bummed that you didn't get to do a little surprise but he assured you that the news made him the happiest man alive and you sincerely believed him;

how exactly? that man knows his shit; you being groggy in the morning? not taking a sip of his beer when watching telly at night? he's got it figured out

doesn't really know how to prep but is too shy to ask you anything so you just find him passed out on the couch every now and then with his laptop glowing at him with "how to build a crib" or "baby sign language" when you can't even tell the baby's gender yet

it took you a week to convince him that you indeed can go to the bathroom alone

tries the more laid-back cravings and doesn't like them; never forgets to ask you about the latest one when you're grocery shopping

is occupied when you go and check for the gender of the baby; you call him from the parking lot with the news; you don't often hear Simon cry but he did that day

calls the baby bug and bezzie, mumbling at your stomach

looks up how to relieve pain with that tummy-lifting technique when your bump grows larger and larger

holds your hand and remains grounded for the entirety of the birth

becomes a very shallow sleeper; the baby stirs and he's at their feet looking over their tiny little body for any sign of distress

Soap

"it's mine, right?"

will go to the ends of the world to get you a pregnancy pillow, but only in the color he likes too

found out on accident; you didn't mind. he came into the bathroom to brush his teeth one morning and found you slouched by the wall, tears of joy in your eyes

insists on picking clothes super early on and revives any old contact of his to get a special baby carrier or a bottle boiler he heard about once

will not shut up about it

tries every single one of your cravings and actually ends up liking some of them

gender reveal party

laddie or lassie depending on the baby's gender, accompanied by approx. 400,000 kisses to your belly daily

gets you all kinds of tape for your growing belly and applies them himself

almost faints during the birth but can't stay away from you

the first time you wake up the next time after your well-deserved rest, he's talking to a nurse while gently cradling the baby; he's a dream dad, who seems to take on the role immediately

Gaz

"what's this… you have to be fucking kidding me this is the best fucking day of my life, babe. can the baby hear me? shit. shit. uhhhh--"

you planned a little party and hid the test in a box to surprise him; it went perfectly, everyone cried

absolutely showers you with stuff he noticed on a shelf at a store that the baby wouldn't likely use until 12 or even 24 months old

"thought you'd like it" is the new most popular word in the household

you get don't touch a single piece of cleaning equipment or dirty dish in the house for nine months

you could get used to this

tries spicing up your cravings; plating them nicely or adding something new

never shuts up about how he used to babysit and will therefore make a good dad

"I just want a happy healthy baby the gender matters the least" he kisses you on your forehead as you open the envelope containing the papers on the couch

tells the baby about the happy family they'll be born into and sometimes mumbles names at your belly as if testing which one fits them best; he looks up at you for approval each time

goes with you to pregnant yoga classes to see how he can help you practice with you at home when the baby in your tummy grows bigger

cries with you during birth

his hand is always by the side of the crib in the hospital

Price

"wh- you? c'mere, love. really?"

touches touches and more touches, is glued to your side from the day he finds out; you're not allowed to lift anything

is very self-conscious about everything; helps out wherever he can, you have to put him down each time

you get into arguments about this but he always downplays it with a little teasing that always eases the mood and you can't help but adore the stressful old man he is

tries to quit smoking but he only resettles on the balcony/porch/out-the-window technique; even more so when you're in his proximity

keeps notes of all your cravings

becomes a fridge organizer and buys healthy food only

talks to the baby so much calls your stomach the most adorable names ever

asks you not to find out the gender of the baby until birth

expert massage therapist for when your belly becomes too heavy; pressure points you name it he knows how to relieve pain

his one hand is getting shattered in your fist, and his other is smoothing over your hair constantly during birth

a little afraid to hold the baby on his own at first, but gradually warms up to the idea, and bath time becomes his favorite

Alejandro

"mi corazón, we get to be parents?! I love you so much, I--"

his mother knew first and lead him to guess for himself while you were out of earshot in another room; he came in and swooped you up to pepper kisses all over you

your phone bill is through the roof: he calls up every abuela and uncle he can for tips, even sits down with his baby nieces and nephews to ask them what they like for breakfast and stuff

sings to your stomach in his low baritone

gets the baby a little golden necklace; it's a gift in the family

you inherit SO MANY kids' clothes; you feel like you never have to buy a piece of diaper again; nor a blanket

you go through a list of old wives' tales about finding out the gender, but you end up waiting until the birth

will try to home-cook all your cravings: make pickles or banana ice cream from scratch

tries (and succeeds) to remedy your pregnancy pains; herbs, physio, he's got it all

he knows what he's doing or he's just a natural; birth never seemed so quick and easy with him by your side

you catch him the first time humming to the baby in the hospital, while gently rocking the little one

Rudy

"you missed your period. wait, you missed your period?? test, test now, mi alma"

he ushers you in the bathroom and waits outside on the bed, thrumming his fingers against the soft bedding

is the happiest fucking thing when you let him in and he notices a faint crossing line on the test immediately

get ready for nine months of non-ending praise

has a new nickname for the baby every day

plays music to your bump nonstop

loves, I mean LOVES pregnant you; every inch of your body, your plump breasts, your growing tummy, the stretch marks on your skin, name it he's a sucker for it

the two of you go to the doctor together to find out the baby's gender and he's already crying in the parking lot before you go in

looks up non-spicy/pregnancy-safe versions of everyday dishes and makes them for you no questions asked

ends up inheriting your pregnancy pillow after you give birth, and takes it to the base for when he has to sleep without you; seriously, it smells like pregnant you what could be better

he talks you through the birth, his voice is calm and grounding

talks to the baby in a hushed voice whenever he can; smiles at you every time the little one makes a face during

König

"are you sure?"

you sat him down and told him plainly the moment he came home from deployment; he laugh-cries and hugs you for hours on end after

if you thought he was the biggest cuddlebug-snugglebear already, you're deeply mistaken

talks to your stomach in German; gives the baby 2-3 little nicknames you can't quite catch

will not leave you alone; becomes a bigger, more deadly baby

when I tell you he's protective--

pretends to like the taste of your cravings; he truly likes the fact that he can make you happy with a jar of pickles he got from the local farmers' market

little trinkets for the win; binkie-shaped keychain, baby spoon with Biene Maya on it…

waits for you to tell him the baby's gender

more stressed than you during the birth; manages to hide it

settles on one of the nicknames he already tried and calls the baby that; also afraid to hold the little one because according to him the baby would get lost in his arms

[slashers-and-rats]

jason vorhees x gn!reader | nsfw |

kinktober day 8: bondage

the ropes around jason’s body had been intricately tied. they were less focused on holding him, and more centred around looking pretty, and making him feel the same.

they did. he felt very, very pretty.

the red shibari rope was soft against his skin, and made him feel like an art piece on display. he wasn’t used to the feeling, and yet he knew exactly how to behave. he sat still, allowing you to loop the rope around his limbs and torso, and laid himself back to let you take in the scene.

his arms were up above his head, bent back so that they clasped as close to his shoulder blades as possible. the rope held him steadfast there, and continued down over his chest, stomach, and between his thighs. his legs were held tight in a kneeling position. he sat on the bed in front of you, fully on display, like a special little present just for you.

it was hard to explain what he was feeling. part of him, the part that was usually in control, wanted to show you just how strong he really was by tearing these ropes from himself. he could. if he flexed right, and maneuvered himself properly, he could snap his restraints like they were nothing but ribbons. but the other part of him, the part that sat deep in his stomach and had only bubbled up when you asked to try this, wanted to be good. he wanted to sit, and stay, and look pretty and vulnerable. he wanted to give you control, and allow you to do what you pleased with him.

the conflict in his head had distracted him, and he refocused only when your hand rested down on his thigh. he blinked the thoughts away, meeting your gaze with curiosity.

“okay, all the ropes are tied. i think i followed the guide okay…” you glanced back down at the book you had bought, flipping between some pages, before shrugging. “looks okay to me. you look… i mean, you’re just fucking hot, jason.”

jason’s face heated up at the way you spoke. it was so casual, and yet he could hear the lust behind it all. he would never get used to the way you praised him, even when it was small things like this. it made him look away, hiding his face in the arm next to his head.

he could feel your gaze on him, raking over his body. god, it felt good to be appreciated like this. he wanted to look nice for you, he wanted to be your big man. he felt the hand that had rested on his thigh begin it’s journey upwards, tracing over the muscles in his leg, before squeezing over his bulge. he gasped, looking back towards you with wide eyes.

“what? you didn’t think i was doing all this just to look, right?” you giggled. your thumb traced up and down the outline of his cock in his underwear. this must be why you wanted him in nothing but his briefs. how had he not guessed? he supposed, sometimes, that he assumed that you were the innocent one, and he was the big monster. but, that wasn’t the case. your mind was filled with sin, and he was none-the-wiser to your schemes. he liked the dynamic, it made him feel… cute?

in a moment like this, it was less ‘cute’, and more ‘rock hard and wanting more’. you barely touched him, letting the little grazes of your fingers get him hard slowly. he wanted to break out of these ropes and make you touch him properly, but he stayed put. you could see the struggle behind his eyes too, it was clear on the way he squirmed and flexed his muscles, testing how far he could go.

“you’re being so good for me, jason,” you purred, letting your entire palm rub over his, now fully grown, erection. he was panting, trying his best to press up into your touch. your other hand moved to his chest, rubbing over his large, soft pecs, and brushing over his nipples. the sensation was new, and he was surprisingly sensitive. he moved between pushing his crotch into your one hand, to arching his back up into the other.

he wondered what he looked like from your perspective. he hoped it was everything you wanted.

you pulled away suddenly, the absence of touch making him whine deep in his throat. where ever you had been touching burned, and was quickly turning cool. he wanted that heat back. he growled, leaning towards you, pressing his face into your chest. you rubbed over his arms soothingly, as if you weren’t the cause of his need.

“you want me to touch you more?” you asked, almost teasingly. it was a simple question, so jason didn’t see any landmine. he just nodded, whining again as he bucked his hips into the open air.

you pushed him back to where he had been, sitting down so your face was between his legs. he looked down at you the best he could, biting his lip under his mask and groaning when your cheek nuzzled his thigh. you leaned up, up, up, until your mouth was pressing soft, damp kisses along his clothed erection.

he growled, his cock twitching hard in his pants. it was too little, he needed more. you knew he did, and yet all you did was sloppily make out with his bulge, humming so that the vibrations teased him even more.

jason bucked into your mouth hard, as if urging you to give him what he wanted, and much to his dismay it instead made you pull away. you giggled yet again, ever amused by his struggle. “you said you wanted touching. i am touching. don’t be a bad boy now when you should’ve been more specific,” you chided.

dammit, how could you play mind games at a time like this? he was leaking into his underwear, panting, sweating, NEEDING, and yet here you were, just toying with him like he was nothing but a doll.

god, it felt so good.

he could get used to this.

[insanitybl00m]

Tales From Under The Wisteria Tree Chapter 6 - The Tailor

Philza stayed awake. His brain was still shot with adrenaline. His brain was screaming danger danger danger. 

“Deep breaths,” he whispered. Missa was safe and that was all he cared about. Right now all he needed was for Missa to get sleep and he could rest tomorrow night.

The late hours of the night stretched into the early hours of the morning. Eventually, the sun rose above the horizon.

“Missa. We’re ok.”

“Good, now you can get some sleep,” Missa murmured, trying to grab at Phil to pull him into the mess of bedrolls and half-burnt cloaks.

“No silly. We need to get to the village. You need new clothes and I’m fine.”

“But it’s early~” Missa whined. He blinked open his eyes and gave Phil the most pathetic puppy-dog eyes possible. 

They really did need to leave. It wasn’t safe to stay in one spot for too long. 

“What would convince you to get up wisteria.” The nickname felt soft on the top of his tongue. 

“Wings.”

“What?”

“Your wings are soft, I want to hug them.” 

“And you promise you’ll get up?”

“Promise.” Phil sighed and extended his wings. Missa did the same thing he did yesterday when he first saw them and ran his hands over them, as if he was testing they were real, before resting his head against them. 

“Why do you like my wings so much?”

“They’re soft. And warm. And cozy.”

“Yeah, but they’re just wings.”

“They’re like angel wings.”

Waking up and getting to hug Phil’s wings was probably the best feeling ever. Missa would never get over how soft they were. 

“Ok, that’s enough of that,” Philza said with an awkward laugh.

“Fine. I keep my promises.” Missa slowly got up. He brushed his fingers through his hair. Burnt pieces of hair touched his hand. 

“Did the dragon fry my hair?” He asked.

Philza squinted at his hair. “It doesn’t look like it.”

“Feel it, idiot!” Missa grabbed Phil’s hand and placed it in his hair. 

“Oh. Yeah, the tips are singed.”

“No mames.”

“You still got the dagger?”

“I put it in my bag. Why?”

“It's the best thing to cut hair that we’ve got.”

“No. There’s no way you’re cutting my hair with a literal knife.”

“It’s either that or hair that’s burnt.”

Missa sighed. “Fine. Don’t you dare fuck up my hair.”

Phil laughed as he moved to grab the dagger from Missa’s bag. “You trust me to save your life but not to cut your hair.”

“Nope, don’t trust you with my hair.”

Another laugh. “Liar.”

“Just cut my hair bird boy.” Phil did, carefully cutting off burnt hair.

“Can I even it out, like, making it all normal.”

“Yeah.” And so he did, hair kept falling and Missa’s long hair became much more mullet-like. 

“All done?”

“Yep.”

Missa grabbed his bag. “All ready to go?”

“You realize that you can’t just leave the hair lying around. You do realize that locks of hair are a part of fae courting rituals right?”

“They’re what?”

“Have you read the entry on fae?”

“Not yet…”

“When you get the chance you should.”

“So where is the hair going to go?”

“I’ll keep it here,” Phil held up a small bag. “If that’s ok with you of course.”

“Sure.” Phil took the hair and put it in the small cloth bag.

Phil had to tuck his wings under his shirt, which was much more uncomfortable than hiding them under a cloak. But Missa was still clinging onto the shreds of his cloak, not that it would do much anyway.

The pair made their way back to the village in a few hours, getting a few weird stares probably due to the state of their clothes.

“Do you know the way to a tailor?” Missa asked a young woman who looked them both up and down before answering.

“Uh, yeah. Left at the fountain in the town square. A big sign that says ‘Roier’s Woven Wonders’.”

“Roier’s place! Oh, I’ve met him before, he’s a great tailor, C’mon Wisteria.” Phil tugged on Missa’s arm and they took off towards the town square. 

“Who’s Roier?”

“You’ll see!”

“This better be good,” Missa grumbled.

“Trust me you’ll love him.”

When they stopped outside the shop Missa had to admit that the dark brick stood out against the rest of the shops. It was decorated nicely.

“Oi Roier!” Phil yelled as he entered the shop.

“Felipe? Felipe Craft? No mames!” A tall, wiry man appeared from seemingly nowhere and tackled Phil in a hug.

“Hey mate, long time no see!”

“Who’s this?” Roier said, finally looking at Missa.

“Oh, this is Missa.”

“I thought we weren’t using names with strangers?” Missa asked, confused.

“Roier isn’t Fae.”

“Fuckin cursed by them,” Roier said. “But that’s not what you two are here for. You need clothes.”

“How did you– Oh right our clothes are ruined,” Missa said. 

“Dragon?” Roier asked Phil, who sighed before responding.

“Unfortunately.”

“You came to the right place then. Set up a shop since you last saw me. Putting my skills to good use.”

“I see that, how’s Cellbit?”

“Good, he’s with Bagi.”

Missa was left confused as the conversation drifted towards things he had no part in. 

Phil mentioning his name is what clued him in that he should start listing “–Missa and I need clothes made of spider silk.”

“You do realize that you want six outfits made out of spider silk. That would take me months to make enough string for that.”

“What’s spider silk?” Missa interjected.

“The highest quality silk in the world,” Roier explained.

“Why do we need spider silk clothes?”

“Temporary precaution in case we get stuck in the Underdark,” Phil explained.

“Get stuck where?” Missa asked.

“Underdark is the realm of nightmare creatures,” Roier explained.

“It’s only a precaution. It will keep us warm enough in the underdark but it will also help at night too.”

“The most spider silk I can spare is for your cloaks and a basic set of clothes for each of you.”

“And you have normal cloth right?” Phil asked. 

“Ay Felipe,” Roier turned to Missa. “Can you believe him? Your husband is trying to rob me of everything I’m worth.”

“Husband?” Missa asked.

“Wait Phil–” Roier started.

“Last time we met I told Roier I was done traveling until I found someone to share my adventures with. He must have assumed that meant a husband, right Roier?”

Phil shot Roier a pointed glance.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry about the assumption. I’ll need measurements for each of you. Once I have those I should only be an hour.”

“An hour?” Missa asked.

“Speedy hands,” Roier said with a flourish. “Phil, you first.”

“What the hell was that bullshit? Not your husband? I could smell the bond on him from a mile away. You gave him fae food?”

“Roier you don’t understand–”

“You think I don’t understand how fae work?” He pulled up his sleeve revealing a sigil branded onto his arm. Phil winced and looked away. “I’m eternally bonded to one. I know the signs.”

“He gets to choose.”

“But to all fae you meet, they will see the two of you as partners.”

Phil felt his cheeks go warm. “Yes.”

“So, what’s next?”

“I court him the human way. If he rejects me then I break the bond.”

“That sucks dude, human courting is weird.”

“Weirder than exchanging names, eating food, and gifting locks of hair?”

Roier laughed. “I know your clan is weird about the idea of ‘kidnapping’, which by the way isn’t kidnapping.”

“It is–”

“Don’t care, anyway look at him, he’s literally clinging onto the cloak you gave him.”

“He’s cold.”

“That shred of fabric ain’t warming him up but keep believing that if you want.”

“He knows about my wings,” Phil said his brain had lost its filter. 

“Oh?”

“He didn’t run away screaming.”

“You want me to design some slits for your wings in the back of your clothes? That way they can still be covered by the cloak but more comfortable than normal stuff.”

“That would be great, you have no idea how many shirts I’ve ruined by making slits for them.”

“I’ve already got the measurements from the last time you visited, you should be good. I just needed to get you to fess up about your crush on your little human.”

“Shut up.” Phil paused. “Can I ask you for a favor though?”

“Always, you’ve only saved my life like twice.”

“Add some green designs into Missa’s clothes for me.”

Roier muttered curses under his breath. “You think I’d learn to not blindly accept deals with fae.”

“He should be ready to take your measurements now,” Phil said after leaving the backroom.

“Thanks,” Missa said.

“Close the curtain behind you.”

“Okay?” Roier took off his jacket and revealed a… second set of arms?

“Fastest sewer in the world.” He said, flexing his arms.

“I bet. How did you…”

“I was cursed by a fae. Became an arachnid. Basically a giant spider beast. When I got turned back I was left with these. Curse residuals. Nothing can get rid of them. I’m also eternally bound to the fae who cursed me.”

“Bound?”

“This thing on my arm: it’s the mark of my curse.”

“Oh wait, spider beast. Spider silk!”

“Yep, now let me get your measurements.” Roier took his measurements surprisingly quickly. His extra set of arms really did make him a better tailor. “Done, now you can go wait outside with Felipe.”

“Ok.”

Phil was sitting down on a bench, he was writing a new entry in his journal of the fae creatures.

“What’s that one about?”

“Fae curses, specifically ones that transfigure humans.”

“Like Roier?”

“Yeah…” He let out a yawn.

“I told you that you need sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.” Another yawn.

Missa took the journal out of his hands. “You’re sleeping, you need a break.” He sat down next to Phil.

“Where?” Missa sighed and moved so that he could be a comfortable pillow. When Phil rested his head on Missa’s shoulder he felt Phil relax a little bit. “Thank you.”

“I’ll read that entry on Fae you were talking about.”

“M’kay.”

Fae (General)

Also known as Faery, Fairy, tricksters, Elven folk, or Magical beings.

Most Fae fall under a different classification, such as changelings for example. 

This is an overview of most Fae. Separate classifications will be separate entries.

Fae are tricksters. At the end of the day, they put themselves and their clan above all else.

Clans are a sense of family. Although there are many clans most specialize in certain areas.

For example, the king’s clan specializes in trickery, maintaining balance, and helping other fae.

His ‘children’ (faelings in his clan) are helpful but they tend to follow their father’s more mischievous tendencies.

Clans can be quite small with a singular head of the clan or they can be quite large with up to five heads per clan.

Fae are immortal. With few exceptions to this, most Underdark creatures can kill fae. Venom, dark sabers, etc. Fae born in the Underdark are truly immortal, but a fae born in the Underdark is very rare considering how dangerous that realm is for Fae. They look very different from normal fae.

Most Fae have wings. Butterfly wings, Dragonfly wings, or any other type of insect wings are common. Bird wings are rarer. And the rarest are dragon wings. Dragon wings are exclusive to Underdark fae and Dragonborn fae. 

Fae and Humans

Fae are known for their unique relationship with humans. 

Fae food, gifting names, and giving locks of hair are way to bond yourself to a fae. 

-Fae food can send you to fairyland but it can also bond you to the person who grew/made the food.

-gifting names. Don’t share your name with a stranger . However, if a fae gives you their name and you give yours in exchange it can be seen as an act of courting.

-Locks of hair are special. They must be willingly given and often used when negotiating a deal with a fae.

Fae food that sends a human to fairyland must be given. Not sold. If anything is given in exchange for fae food it nulls the ability for it to transport humans.

Fae partners are often called “beloveds”. Beloveds are immune to aging. They will not die of old age however they can still die by any other means.

Fae Courting

The strength of the bond goes as follows, from weakest to strongest. Names exchanged, food given, hair exchanged.

Often the hair that is exchanged is used in a ceremony called handfasting. Ribbons meant to represent the couple are braided together along with the hair that was exchanged. It is used to represent commitment to each other. Hands are bound together using this braided rope. 

This ceremony officially declares that a human is now a beloved. Most fae do not consider this ceremony a requirement to consider themselves partners.

Certain clans have rules about the courting of humans. These clans may specify that the human must be in full agreement of the bond before they are able to travel to fairyland. Some exceptions to this can be made but these clans strictly forbid the capture of humans for servitude.

To these clans humans are special. They may be more overprotective around other fae and more “claiming” may be involved. Claiming means different things to different clans but most bonded have a significant mark. A tattoo, a charm, a necklace; something to remind other fae around that the human is theirs.

Missa sighed. His brain was overwhelmed with information. He felt the emerald still in his pocket from earlier. He carefully took it out, careful not to disturb Philza who was still fast asleep on his shoulder.

The gem was almost like a teardrop. However, it still had jagged edges like it had only been smoothed partially. It would make a perfect necklace. He reached into his bag and fished out his pocket knife, he probably should have asked Phil to cut his hair with this rather than a dagger.

He angled the knife and started to carve out a small hole towards the tip of the teardrop, just thick enough to slip a small piece of cord through. He carefully untied a string of his bag and threaded it through the tiny hole, making the gem hang from the center. While he was tying a knot, one of those adjustable ones, Roier stepped out of the backroom.

“All done!”

“Has it really been an hour?”

“Yep. How’s the sleepy head?”

“Well, he’s asleep.”

“You should make sure the measurements are accurate.” Roier handed him the stack of clothes. “Everything should fit but make sure to try on both the spider silk and the normal outfits. The material could fit differently.”

“Okay.” Missa carefully stood up, only moving Phil a tiny bit. It didn’t really matter though, Phil was fast asleep.

He went into the back room and changed into the outfit made of spider silk. Roier was right, it was warm. It also fits perfectly. Roier really did know how to make clothes. He then tried on the normal clothes next. They weren’t as soft as the spider silk but they were much more breathable.

Missa looked at himself in the mirror. The pants were black and the shirt was a deep blue. The sleeves had green designs and they resembled flowers, if Missa squinted he could also see hearts and feathers incorporated into the design. He also admired the cloak which was made of spider silk. It had a similar design as the sleeves, but the green slowly blended into the rich purple of the cloak.

“Is this good?” Missa asked, stepping out of the back room.

“Much better.”

Missa looked towards Phil. “He’s still asleep huh?”

“I can wake him up!” Roier offered, eager to annoy his friend. 

“No, don't! He barely slept last night.”

“Then do you want to come upstairs? I’m sure Cellbit left some tea lying around somewhere before he left.”

“That would be great.”

Missa noticed the necklace he left on top of his bag. He tucked it into his pocket before he followed Roier up a small set of stairs towards the back of the shop.

“Pepito! We have guests!” 

“Apa Roier!” A small boy yelled before grabbing onto Roier’s leg.

“AY!” Roier picked up the boy, “Pepito, Pepito, Pepitooooo! Did Apa Cellbit leave some tea in the kitchen?”

“Mhm, and some cocoa powder! Can I have some?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please?”

Missa was suddenly struck with an overwhelming amount of homesickness for Chayanne. 

“Alright I’ll boil us some water, go draw Pepito, I’ll call you when yours is ready.”

“Thanks apa!” The boy bounded off for another room down the corridor. 

“Sorry about him.”

“No, no, don’t be. My son is the same way.”

“You have a son?” The two made their way into the kitchen. 

“Yeah, he’s seven. Had my friend watch over him so that he’d be safe.”

“Pepito is four, a bundle of energy, but he tends to put it into his drawings.”

“Chayanne is the same way.” Missa laughed. “Except he uses his energy to try and fight his friends with wooden swords. Nearly gave me a heart attack the first time I saw him fighting.”

Missa smiled at the fond memory. His son was roughly the same age as Pepito when Missa caught him making a wooden sword. He smiled and said “Look, papa! Now I’m like you!” Missa nearly cried that day.

The sound of boiling water distracted him from his memories. “Shit.” Roier quickly poured the water into three mugs. He was adding tea to two and cocoa powder to another. 

“Pepito cocoa!”

The three sat down at the table, Pepito’s legs swinging back and forth. “Hello Mr.”

“Hi pepito.”

“What’s your name?”

“Missa.”

“Great! Apa, Mr. Missa has very pretty clothes. Did you make them?”

“I did Pepito, why?”

“I want you to make me pretty clothes!”

“Pepito, I already made you plenty of clothes.”

“But I want flowy ones like Mr. Missa’s.” The four-year-old pouted. 

Roier let out a laugh. “I’ll make you flowy ones.”

“Yay!” Pepito went back to drawing on the blank paper with crayons.

“What’s that?” Roier pointed at the cord falling out of Missa’s pocket.

“Oh. Nothing special.” He took it out of his pocket and put it on the table.

“Who’s it for?”

“Who said it was for anybody?” Missa sputtered.

“You just don’t strike me as the type of guy to wear jeweled necklaces.”

Missa paused, he should not be asking Roier if— “Does Phil like these types of necklaces?” He was done for.

Roier’s grin turned sharklike. “I bet he’d love it. But you should use a different material for the cord.”

“Like what?”

“Let me go grab some.” Roier stood up and headed into the hallway.

What was Missa going to do while he waited? Pepito was distracted drawing. Roier had left. Tea. He’d drink his tea. 

“Got some!” Roier came back into the room with a handful of ribbon. “Purple and green ribbon. You should braid them together, it’ll go with the clothes I made him.”

“Oh. Okay.” Missa took the ribbon from Roier and braided the ribbon together. It looked rather pretty when he was done with it.

“Now you can take that plain cord out and replace it with this! Much more personal don’t you think?” 

“Yeah.” Missa admired the necklace. It did look a lot better this way. 

Phil blinked his eyes open. Did he really fall asleep? Missa was right, he really was tired. “Missa?”

He looked to his left. No Missa.

“Missa?” He said, this time a bit louder.

“He’s upstairs with me Felipe!” Roier called. 

Phil noticed the stack of clothes on the table in front of him. He had to check on Missa first. 

The first thing he noticed was the necklace on the table, then Pepito, and then the designs on Missa’s clothes. Then the wicked grin on Roier’s face. That mother fucker.

“Hi, Pepito. How are you, buddy?”

“Hi Tio Philza, I’m good.”

“I left your clothes on the table downstairs,” Roier said. 

“Oh yeah, I noticed that.”

“They’re really comfortable,” Missa said. “You should change.”

“Oh ok.” Phil instantly walked downstairs and changed into normal clothes. Missa could ask him to do anything and he’d instantly do it. 

The clothes looked like Missa’s. Roier even added similar detailing on the sleeves, except his was purple and the main color of the shirt was a deep emerald green.

The slits in the back fit his wings perfectly. He grabbed his cloak but he decided not to put it over his wings. He would give them a moment to stretch. 

When he came back upstairs he noticed Missa’s trailing eyes staring at his wings. “So uh, what’s happening guys?”

“Nothing much,” Roier said. “Waiting for you to wake up and then Missa showed me something he was working on.”

“Roier!” Missa shouted, pulling the necklace off the table.

“Show him it!” Roier urged. Phil pretended like he didn't see it. 

“Fine, I will.” He pulled out the necklace and handed it to Phil. “It’s for you. I got the emerald from the dragon’s hoard. Roier gave me the ribbon.” Missa was hiding his face from Phil. 

“You’re welcome,” Roier said before standing up and grabbing Pepito. “I’m going to put him down for a nap then we can discuss payment.”

Phil still hadn’t said anything about the necklace. When he took a peak at Phil he wasn’t standing across from him. “Can you put it on, I can’t quite reach.” Missa nodded and tied it, face still hot. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“No problem.” He stuttered as Roier came back into the room.

“Alright, Pepito is asleep. Now Phil, spider string outfits are going to cost you. The rest are free but I can’t give out premium outfits for free.”

“15 gold.”

Roier barked out a laugh. “Are you insane? I charge that much for a normal shirt. 100. Each.”

Phil scowled. “150.”

“I’m giving you a deal on 100 each, the lowest I’ll do is 175 for the two of them.”

“Fine. My bag is downstairs.” They all headed downstairs and Phil pulled the money out of his bag. “175. As you asked.” Phil threw his cloak on, careful to hide his wings. “See you around again mate.” 

“Hope you two have fun on your little adventure,” Roier said with a wave. 

“It was nice meeting you, Roier,” Missa said as he also put his cloak on, mirroring Philza.

“Bye, mate,” Phil said before they left the shop. 

“Three hours until sundown. We should have enough time to get out of the area and set up camp.”

“Why do we need to leave so soon?”

“Just a precaution. The scent should be thrown off by the change of clothes and the amount of people around us in that village but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“Ok.”

About an hour or two later the sky was turning almost pink. “This should be good right?”

“Yeah, I spotted a river nearby too.”

“I’ll set up the bedrolls if you want to get a bucket of water for the fire.” Phil nodded, set down his bag, and left for the river with a bucket in hand. 

Missa rolled out the bedrolls, and gathered some firewood, before sitting on his bedroll to take off his cloak. He put it down next to him as Phil got back.

“Wow you got firewood and everything, that’s great!”

“Mhm.” Missa scratched at his hair, despite all the burnt pieces being cut off he could feel some ash still clinging to the roots of his hair.

“What’s wrong Wisteria?”

“Nothing.”

“You seem uncomfortable, is there anything you need?”

Missa sighed. “My hair feels a little dirty but it’s fine I swear.” 

“I could help you wash it, we’ve got the water anyway.” 

“Isn’t that for the fire?”

“It’s warm enough out tonight. We should be fine without one.”

“How would you even wash my hair? I don’t have any shampoo or anything, I've been using stuff from the inns.”

“I’ve got my own shampoo, don’t worry about how I’ve got it all taken care of. If you want me to, I will.”

Missa considered it. He did trust Phil. He did want his hair cleaned. But was this too much? This was a lot. But Phil offered. He didn’t have to do that. He probably wouldn’t have offered it if it had been an inconvenience for him.

“Fine.” 

Missa had agreed to let him wash his hair. His brain was yelling thousands of things at him but he had to drown them out. He needed his shampoo and brushes, so he grabbed them from his bags. He wanted Missa to be comfortable. 

“Over here should be good.” Missa followed Phil and sat down next to him. “The water is going to be a little cold but I’ll do my best to avoid getting the water in your eyes. Can you lean back a little?”

“Yeah.” Phil splashed some water until he could lather on the shampoo. “You know I used to do this with my son, especially when he was younger. He’d complain that I washed his hair better so I should just do it for him.”

“Yeah?” Phil started to scrub at Missa’s scalp. It was a calming feeling, knowing Missa trusted him this much. Not only to allow him to wash his hair but to share stories about his son.

“He loves to be babied sometimes. He puts on this strong facade but at the end of the day when it’s just me and him he just clings to me like he’s little again.”

“That’s really sweet.”

“He has this huge bedroom, it’s honestly bigger than mine. But for years he would crawl into my bed in the middle of the night. Eventually, I just started putting him to bed in my bed then I’d clean up the house a little and head back to bed. Now his bedroom is basically just a huge playroom.” Philza leaned Missa’s head back so he could rinse off the shampoo. “I miss him a lot.”

“I bet. He sounds like he’s your whole world.”

“He is.”

“You mind if we go back to the bedrolls, I left a small towel in my bag and your hair kind of needs to be dried a bit more before I can brush it.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I already have my brushes out,” Phil said as he helped Missa up. 

The two made their way over to the bedrolls and Phil dried Missa’s hair.

“Are you sure? My hair always tangles because of how long it is.”

“Believe me, I’m sure Wisteria.” Phil touched the emerald that hung at his neck.

“Do you mind if I tell you more stories about my son, it feels good to talk about him.”

“Of course, I love hearing them.”

Missa laughed, before launching into a tale about the time his son got stuck in a toy bin. Philza just listened as he brushed through the knots that had somehow formed in Missa’s hair.

“Do you mind if I tie your hair up? Like half of it, so it stays out of your face while you’re sleeping. I always hate it when my hair is in my face.”

“Do whatever, I’m getting a bit tired though.” Phil reached into his bag and found a bit of purple and green ribbon in there. Roier must have slipped it in there while he wasn’t looking. He took a bit of the green ribbon and used it to tie up Missa’s hair. He then took a small section of hair from behind Missa’s ear and braided it. Slowly whispering the words of a charm he had used so many times before on his kids' hair. 

Protect this one I love.

Protect them from the kiss of death.

Save them with the love I have woven,

And let them stay with me for a little longer.

The charm set with a green shimmer. It wouldn’t unravel unless there had actually been a brush with death. 

“Ok done.”

“Thanks, Cuervo.”

“I’m glad I was able to help.” Missa turned to face him with a soft smile on his face. 

“I’m going to get some rest, you should too.”

“Ok, goodnight Wisteria,” Phil said as he packed the extra supplies in his bag before lying down.

“Goodnight,” Missa murmured. He was already half asleep.

[imonlyhereforthexreaders]

Gold Rush (part 6)

Benny watts x reader

Warnings: cliche tropes, the water class glass exchange was inspired by another author but I can’t find the exact quote so just know I’m not that creative

A/n: howdy darlings, I’m not too happy with this piece but I think I’m starting to find my footing again in this story so if this is well received I will make more parts so please lmk if that’s something you all are interested in. As usual be gentle with yourselves my lovelies ❤️‍🔥

-

The rest of the cocktail hour went by without any hiccups, with Benny’s arm around the back of your chair you noticed substantially less backhanded remarks, which, while sexist, was still appreciated. Dinner is brought out in carts with silver dishes overflowing and ready to be distributed.

“You got drinks, I’ll grab us both food” you offered, already on your feet. Benny made some effort to deter you, arguing he had no problem getting the food but you only brushed him off.

“I know the drill, you don’t like raw tomatoes,capers or olives” you assured, already heading towards the growing line, he followed you anyways.

“How’d you know that?” He inquired, and you almost laughed at the question.

“We’ve been to countless of these events together, I’ve just noticed overtime” he smirked teasingly,

“You’ve been watching me, huh?” You give him a gentle jab to the ribs,

“Yeah, with judgment at your childlike pickiness” he rolls his eyes but resigns himself to your shared table

Benny POV

I sat and watched her as the line creeped along, nursing a new bottle. Usually I’d drink at these events but seeing as I’m driving (y/n)s car, which was very close to her heart, I decided to stick with non alcoholic radlers.

“Are you Benny Watts?” The voice to my right catches me by surprise, the owner of the voice even more so. A woman, tall and thin, about (y/n)s age but maybe a little older, stands before me. She has short red hair and large eyes, and is wearing a black and white shift dress. I cleared my throat awkwardly, I was used to being around (y/n) but the idea of another chess girl did make me a little uneasy.

“That’s me, who’s asking?” I lean back into my chair, opening my legs and making eye contact, looking her up and down for any sign of familiarity.

“Beth Harmon” her arms are crossed over her chest, not moving to extend a hand, so I chose not to either. “You hold the US title, correct?” I nodded my head and for a while neither of us spoke, we just sized each other up. Deciding to test my luck I lean across the table, propping my chin up with one arm.

“Come to ask anything or just look at me? I’ve been told I’m quite easy on the eyes” She doesn’t smile or blush or send back a witty remark like (y/n) would, she just narrows her eyes,

“I’m just trying to meet my competition” I raise my eyebrow and am about to ask her what makes her, unheard of by me, my competition. Before a much more familiar voice behind me speaks up.

“I got us food Ben, it was wild in there, nearly had to shank someone in the eye in order to get the last of the garlic rolls- Oh hi! I saw you earlier and meant to introduce myself. I’m (y/n) (l/n), you’re Beth, correct?” Her voice is chipper as she sets out plates down on the table, extending her arm enthusiastically to the woman next to me, who just gives her a look before nodding her head and reluctantly meeting her handshake.

“That’s correct” (y/n) smiles widely,

“You should join us for dinner, we’ve got this table to ourselves and I’d love to know more about you-“

“I’m just leaving” Beth explains quickly “I think I’m going to take my dinner up to my room, thank you though” I watch (y/n)s grin falter before quickly producing another, more artificial smile.

“Of course, maybe I’ll see you tomorrow in competition” Beth nods and responds with a noncommittal “maybe” before removing herself from the situation. (Y/n) takes the seat across from me. She had grabbed two plates full of penne with vodka sauce, complete with the garlic rolls as she had described. I give a quick thank you before diving wholeheartedly into the food, not having eaten anything since breakfast. (Y/n) follows suit but in a much less enthusiastic way and I can see the cogs turning in her head.

“She’s supposed to be really good, new to the competitive world but very serious in the sport” her eyes raise to mine “Beth” she clarifies, as if there were an abundance of women competing in the event. I nodded in thought,

“Seems like a piece of work, feisty for sure” she nods in a distracted manner and continues pushing her food around. After about 20 minutes of deliberation I finally clear my throat,

“I’m going to take my plate back” I state, standing and gathering my used silverware “Do you want anything?” I ask. She had only eaten about half of her plate but quickly pushed it towards me.

“You can take mine back as well, if you don't mind.” she answered.

“You sure?” I question, glancing between her and the half full plate “You didn’t eat much”

“Yeah, I’m sure” she confirms “I just have a bit of a headache so I don’t really feel like eating much more” I nod in response,

“Alright, how about I drop these plates and we pull an Irish exit?” I offer, immediately feeling better when her face brightens into a smile.

“Sounds like a plan to me” she agrees, finishing off her glass. I made quick work of dropping the dishes off on a cart by the door before heading back to the table where (y/n) was standing, gathering her belongings. I pull her coat off the back of her chair, helping her into it. She offers me a shy smile over her shoulder and I mindlessly rub her biceps before gathering my own coat.

The night was still young and the room was even more crowded than before, I protectively wrapped my arm around (y/n)’s back, guiding her towards the staircase, feeling a swell of pride as she subconsciously leaned into my embrace. Her hand finds the bend of my arm as we make our way down the stairs and she doesn’t make any move to release it until we’ve let out into the cold evening air. She buries her face into my sleeve, muttering something I couldn’t quite make out.

“What was that, love?” I inquire, she pulls her face off of my arm scowling into the wind.

"Said it’s cold as shit” she repeats, before curling back into my side. I chuckle, reaching a hand up to stroke her hair reassuringly.

“We’ll turn the heat all the way up in the car,” I promise “you’ll be cooked medium rare by the time we get back to base” I hear her muffled giggle and smile to myself. Give me all the national titles and championship rings in the world, none of it stroked my ego like making her laugh. I’d spent the last 8 years of my life, at least, pushing myself to be competitive in chess in large part just to have a reason to be around her. We both lived for the chase, we both reveled in the intellectual challenge that the other presented, and at the end of the day we were both hard to satisfy. I couldn’t recall either of us maintaining a relationship beyond a few months in the past couple years at least. Arriving at the car I pull open her door for her which she rolls her eyes at but offers a ‘thank you’ regardless. I slid into the driver's side and turned the key in the ignition, allowing it to idle as I cranked the heat up and leaned over the bench seat to rummage through a box left on the back seat.

“What are you doing?” she asked, having kicked off her boots and pulled her feet up on the bench, hugging her knees for warmth. I unceremoniously dumped a wool blanket over her, just as I had done a few weeks ago that rainy night of the qualifier.

“Oh, Benny…” she said, probably meaning for it to be scolding even though it came out more like a coo.

“I know you well, doll” I smirked, finally shifting the car into first gear and pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. She scooted next to me, eliminating any space between us and I felt my breath catch in my throat. The proximity wasn’t new to us but her intentionally closing the distance made me want to hold my breath. She was much more shy in her advances and I knew any poorly placed joke could send her running, so I bit my tongue and kept my eyes on the road as if nothing had changed. She draped the blanket across both of our laps and I released my held breath. Of course there was a reason, there always is. (y/n) is a chess player, nothing if not calculated and I couldn’t allow myself to so easily forget that. But she leaned her head against my shoulder and shut her eyes.

“Thank you, Benny,” she hummed and I could feel her breath fan across my neck with each word. My skin burned where we connected, my entire right side from shoulder to thigh feeling so hot it may as well have been emitting light. I cleared my throat, keenly aware of the hot blood rising to my face.

“Don’t mention it,” I choke out. The closeness was one thing when we were both half awake and my body simply functioned to warm hers, but there was no reason to write this off as, no simple justification for her mouth to be so close to my jugular, for her legs to be pressed against mine. The car was warm, and getting warmer by the second, there were no misogynists to scare away from our table. It was just us in this vacuum and I drive forever if that’s what kept us here. The drive didn’t last forever, unfortunately and soon enough I was pulling into that long gravel driveway. The rattling of the car pulled (y/n) from her nap which she groaned in annoyance at, sitting up and stretching her arms behind her head. The movement relieved me of her contact, and although between her touch and the thick wool blanket covering us both I had been practically cooking alive, I felt cold without her almost instantly, as if she had taken all of our shared warmth with her. I shifted the car into neutral, pulling up the hand brake and turning off the ignition before turning to her. She looked warm, her cheeks slightly flushed, soft hair tangled around her face like sunbeams. She was like the sun and I was lucky enough to be basking in her light. She catches my gaze, quirking an eyebrow in question but I just look away and clear my throat. During the course of the drive back from town the sun had completely set, so after we both exited the car I linked our hands together as we squinted through the darkness towards the shadow-hidden cabin doing our best not to trip on rocks and fallen branches. After making it successfully up the porch steps I shoulder open the door and feel along the walls until I find the light switch which, when flipped, illuminates the dull yellow overhead lamp. I pull off my jacket and hang it along with the keys to the car by the door. (y/n) strides past me with a determined gait towards the bedroom and I hear a muffled “umph” accompanied by the whine of the old box spring letting me know she had found her destination. I lock the door behind me before heading towards the bedroom as well.

The room was still dark, only the faint yellow glow of the living room casting any light into the cold room. I begin searching through the drawers where I had unpacked my clothes the previous day in search of something warm but comfortable to sleep in.

“Benny?” comes a muffled voice from behind me. I see (y/n) cocooned in blankets with only her eyes and above visible peering through the darkness at me.

“Yes?” I answer, pulling two sets of fleece lined flannels and baggy sweats from the dresser.

“Could you grab me a glass of water?” She squeaks out.

“Yeah, here’s a set of warmer clothes if you want” I offer, dropping them beside her on the bed before heading to the kitchen. The water sputtered in the tap before finally evening out. I made quick work of washing two of the glasses in the cabinet just to be safe before filling them both and heading back towards our shared room. Upon pushing the door open I found (y/n) in a similar position as before, curled up on her side of the bed, but she was now wearing the sweater I had left her. She offered me a tired smile as I sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, handing her the glass. She took only a small sip before placing it nearly untouched on her nightstand, turning her attention back to me. Her eyelids were heavy as she looked up at me through her lashes. Reaching out she ran her hand over one of mine, grasping it in my lap.

“Do you remember asking your mum or dad for a water before bed?” She asked, shutting her eyes now.

“I do,” I confirmed, reaching my spare hand up to mindlessly brush the loose hair from her face.

“Do you remember how you hardly even wanted the water,” she nearly whispered, my hand stilled across her forehead “You just wanted the hand attached to the water, and the arm and the body”. Her eyes were squinted tightly shut as if she could convince herself she was saying it to no one if she didn’t have to look at me. As if her grip around my hand hadn’t tightened as if afraid I would pull away. I wouldn’t.

“I do,” I said simply, resuming the brushing of my hand across her hair. This time cupping her cheek and brushing my thumb over her eyelashes. She takes the invitation to open her eyes, and she smiles.

“Thank you, Benny” it's so quiet I almost miss it when she says it. I smile in return, pulling my hand from her slightly liquor flushed cheek.

“Anything for you, dollface” I return. Grabbing my own set of clothes and heading to the bathroom to change. When I return she’s already asleep beneath the mound of blankets and quilts. I slip into bed on her opposite side, managing to dislodge one blanket that would just have to be enough to get me through the night. The house had warmed noticeably from running the heater throughout the day but it still didn’t do much to keep the night cold from creeping in. I lay on my back, closing my eyes and feeling sleep start to take over only for it to be chased away by a weight covering me. I opened my eyes to find (y/n) had slung her body over mine, hand finding a fistful of my shirt as she curled her face into the crook of my neck. Her breathing hadn’t changed, her body had sought mine out in her sleep. I smiled and pulled the mound of blankets over us, creating an envelope of warmth. The wind whistled violently outside but we may as well have been camping on the sun.

[rainyraisin]

2023 YEAR IN REVIEW!!!

My artstyle changed a lot this year, especially after my shift from ibis paint to procreate after getting my iPad (drawing on an iPad is the BEST btw 100% recommend I love it way more than a phone and it didn’t die after a month like my old wacom 💀💀). I’m relatively happy with where my art is atm and I hope to continue to improve in 2024!

Explanation of all the silly art down below! (Mostly so I can tell y’all who the fanart is for but also cause I like rambling)

January: A drawing of my Rise Leo human design I did to test out a pixel brush I found for Ibis Paint. He’s very fun to draw hehe I need to draw him more-

February: I wanted to learn how to draw the future designs of Leo and Mikey along with CJ so I planned to draw them all together! I struggled with Leo though so I just got rid of him. Sorry Peepaw 😞😞💔💔💔

March: Fanart for @beannary ‘s TLP au! I love it so much so I had to draw smth for it hehe 😈😈💥💥💥 which reminds me I need to draw more at some point- might redraw it at some point cause I’m not super happy with how it turned out but I do like the idea a lot

April: The month I created Reticent! April’s Fools was the first episode I came up with so I drew a chapter poster! It ended up being very different to the chapter cover I drew a couple months later but it’s still cool :D Leo is being weirdly affectionate to Mikey though what the heck that isn’t like him smh. Although I guess it was meant to be purposefully exaggerated sooooo 🥰

May: Reticent Casey!!! I don’t have much to say it’s just Reticent Casey HDKSGXKSHD this wasnt a very good art month

June: Krangified Donnie is literally my favourite concept ever thats it that’s all I have to say dbskdbwkh I adore Krangified Donnie and if the Rise brainrot takes over the Reticent brainrot for a while then I will probably be drawing Krangified Donnie during that time sorry not sorry

July: Reticent Chapter 3’s cover yippee!!! Still my favourite Reticent cover although Chapter 8’s is a close second (I can’t wait to post it once it’s been betaread yippee!!!). The scribble over Leo’s eyes is literally just because I was struggling to draw his eyes and i was getting annoyed dbskdbskdb it’s actually a very common issue with him (common Ret!Leo L). Also Mikey being reflected in the mirror is a reference to Mirror Man by Jack Stauber which I’ve basically considered his theme song since @aaronymous999 introduced it to me ebwjcbkwhd thank you Mr. Aaronymous! Also somebody said he was in the barbie box and I still need to draw that to this day because Mikey would’ve killed to go see Barbie.

August: RET DONNIE WOOOOO he’s being bullied again!!! I drew that piece for a colour palette challenge request and realised I got the prompt wrong so I just made it into its own thing 💥💥💥 it’s usually a flickering light gif but I chose to just use the version with the light on for this post. The photos in the background were really fun to draw hehe either April’s or Mikey’s is my favourite.

September: MY 500 FOLLOWER DTIYS YIPPEE (/my 150 follower DTIYS for tumblr). This one took me. Forever to draw and I love it to pieces hehe it was really fun to design Mikey’s room and figure out outfits for the sillies and idk the concept of a sleepover just seemed really fun to me dbskbdkdb- and all the entries I got were so so awesome I loved them all to pieces!!! I still look at them all the time hehe

October: FANART OF @endlesslogo ‘S HUMAN RISE LEO DESIGN WOOOOOO!!! This was the piece I started rendering on hehe it was so much fun to draw!!!! Although I did have a fight with rendering the hair for over an hour svsjegksbdk HOW DO PEOPLE DO IT FR!!!

November: Me and my friends were working on a crossover between our TMNT iterations so I drew all of our Karai’s together!!! Confluence Karai is on the left, created by Salem and Marine, New Stars Karai is in the middle created by Starla, and Reticent Karai is on the right created by me! All our Karais have such cool designs AHHHHH literally dead over them constantly/pos

December: Most of December I spent drawing Christmas presents so this was my present for Salem!!! Confluence!Jonatello my beloved….

[refractiveame]

Memoriam of Calamity

"A stunning jeweled statue, found in the depths of a smoldering cavern. The two gems dance in intertwined chaos, a breathtaking site that refuels my desire to finish this journey's quota and return to my family." - Captain Olimar... Probably.

This piece was inspired and based around Pikmin 2's treasures Essence of Rage and Essence of Despair; imagining how these treasures may have been found in jewelery before their new purpose as a galactic freight company's debt recovery asset.

But to get to the fun part, this piece is a 20" total length necklace in sterling silver with a 14k gold button on the flower, featuring a lab created rose cut ruby and emerald. I hand made the leaves and the flower and ordered the chain and the mounting for the stones.

Figuring out how to create a natural looking leaf that still resembled the classic pikmin leaf was far more challenging than i had anticipated going into this project. After some testing with different initial shapes and thicknesses i found something i was happy with. Essentially i cut a flat piece of silver that fit my dimensions and matched a drawing i had assumed to turn out well and then used a dapping set to do the shaping. (A dapping set being a small steel block with many spherical holes of many different sizes and a corresponding set of steel punches that have spherical ends to match the holes of the block)

After curving the piece into one curve i would take round nose pliers and bend the end up to give it a sensible shape and one that complements it being used as the connection between chain and center of the pendant. For the very tip of the leaf i took the same pliers and carefully bent the other way to loop the end for a oring to fit through for the chain, then soldered that loop i created shut to ensure sturdiness of the pendant.

In retrospect i wish i had tried to add the detailing you see in the finished piece before rounding to see if a more even and clean carving could have been achieved.

I moved on to the flower which i did some quick maths to determine the size and where to cut the slits to split it into petals. It largely followed the same process as the leaf of cut to shape, cut the reliefs for the petals, and round with the dapping set. But after rounding i took a small round ball bur to the center to allow me to solder a small gold ball to it to better resemble the flower in game.

Here i wish i had better understood how exactly to shape the petals the way i wished as i was not consciously expecting the petals to touch again after being rounded. But i still am stumped as to what the best way to shape a piece like this is given the size and precision i was wanting with the curves on the sides of the petals.

After carefully attaching the pieces together with a few third hands and some patience i began the detailing process which was rather tedious but simple. I applied sharpie to the leaves and scratched in a pattern i felt fit the shape to give the impression of a leaf's vascular system before following that up with a kraus bur, small ball bur, and rubber wheels.

For the flower i added some slight folding of the petals by using a kraus bur to indent it as the petal sprawled from its center, then went back over it with a heavy rubber wheel to smooth out the sharp ruts of removed metal, giving it a wavy, fold like effect that doesn't capture well on camera.

And i added a brush finished to the leaves but left the "veins" high polished to give it an appealing contrast and prevent it from easily looking bad due to greasy/dirty fingers touching the polished silver.

Attached the chain with some simple orings and moved on.

Thusly i arrived at the most stressful and final part of the journey, Bezel setting these roze cuts. For someone who knew what they were doing this would be a breeze but as someone who had never set a stone bezel style nor done so on a pendant that would be hard to grasp firmly this was quite a challenge for me. After getting advice from my elder coworkers on the process i got to work using an inverted conical bur to shape the inside of the mountings to set the stone, periodically checking if the stone would snap in so as to prevent making the cuts too deep. I still fucked that up and made the emerald's seat too big and it took a very mighty effort to get it snugly set in there.

In the process of setting these stones i greatly marred the edges of the bezel, more so than one would expect, and had to spend multiple hours tediously fixing the dents and scraps with a rubber wheel under the microscope, making sure to be hyper aware of my positioning so as not to scratch the stone with the abrasive wheel.

After much trials I finally managed to get the stones tight and good looking without a gross amount of damage to them and took to a final polishing pass. Showed it off to my coworkers and then promptly bagged it up to give to it's recipient this weekend.

Took approx 15 hours give or take 1, most of which was fixing mistakes and decided on leaf shapes.

[nancywheelersgirlfriend]

the pleasure is mine (to die by your side)

(3,103 words) read on ao3 :)

It was 1994 and Robin Buckley woke up with no blankets on her side of the bed. She wasn’t particularly surprised - even when the harsh winter weather wasn’t raging outside their bedroom window, Nancy was infamous for stealing the covers over the course of the night. It wasn’t her fault. It was innate. Some secret urge to be warm. Robin ran hot, anyway. Her metabolism made her a human furnace.

So when she blinked awake at a bleary six in the morning, eager to turn back over and frankly not wake up again for the next three days, Robin simply turned over on her side. She tossed a haphazard arm over where she guess-estimated Nancy’s shoulder was underneath the pile of fabric. She pulled the lump closer to her chest and let out a contented little hum; just like a furnace.

Robin hand pawed at the comforter, yanking it down far enough to both ensure Nancy’s ability to breathe and press a kiss to the side of her warm neck. She splayed her fingers out at the base of Nancy’s collarbone where her ratty sleepshirt had slipped over the course of a turbulent night. She nuzzled her nose against Nancy’s curls. They spread out over the pillow like a biblical halo.

“‘m up,” Nancy mumbled. She clearly wasn’t. Robin pressed her responding grin into her hair and nodded encouragingly. “Did you have good dreams?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. Her foot, reaching forwards in exploration, hit the end of the comforter. Score! “I dreamt I got to wake up next to the most beautiful girl in the world, cold as shit.”

“Aw,” Nancy drew out the word, trying and failing to turn herself over in the mass of comforter and limb. “Baby, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Now you can warm me up,” Robin replied, mischievous toothy grin carefully disguised by the dark room as her absolutely freezing foot dug its way underneath the comforter and landed on Nancy’s leg. Nancy immediately sprung upwards, yelping as she leapt into a sitting position. Robin nearly got herself knocked off the bed.

“You bitch!” Nancy accused, but it was hard to sound serious when she was laughing so much. Underneath the comforter, which had flown half up in the chaos, Robin took the opportunity to slip completely underneath. Inside the blanket it felt like a womb. Nancy’s laughter was dimmed but no less beautiful. Robin lunged on her legs, shimmying up her hips, her waist. She pressed a quick kiss to the mole on Nancy’s left hip. Her face popped out from the line of the comforter.

Robin grinned up at Nancy, hair all mussed and arms coming to wrap their way around Nancy’s waist. Together they tumbled back down onto the bed, Robin and Nancy no longer two people but one ball of warmth.

“Let’s sleep in,” Robin suggested. Nancy turned Robin’s head with her hand to press a smacking kiss to her cheek. 

“Let’s stay here forever,” Nancy added. Robin’s hand squeezed her thigh in a resounding ‘hell yes’.

* * *

Robin -

Yes we’re fine and no, we don’t need money. Come down and visit us sometime. New Hampshire isn’t that far from Greenwich, seriously. Plus you guys have a car - pretty lucky for that. Mike wants to save up but I don’t see the need. If we had a car, we’d have to go to Hawkins. That sounds like Hell. So we got a cat instead. Picture included, of course. But you’ll have to come down to touch her. Mike says I should enclose a bit of her fur as a test sample for you two. Why do I love him again?

* * *

Robin looked up at Nancy’s hazy form, disguised by the steam coming off of her abnormally large coffee mug. She was gorgeously tired. Sat in a little cafe somewhere in Bath, where the brick walls peeled themselves apart and the barista gave up her post to chat up the guy working the pick-up window, they had breakfast.

“You want a bite of my croissant?” Nancy asked. She was picking apart her pastry. The little flakes fell to the plate. 

“Let’s trade,” Robin agreed. She pushed over a bite of her cinnamon roll. Nancy dropped a piece of hers into Robin’s open palm, brushing their fingers together as she did. They ate them at the same time and smiled around their food.

Nancy nudged the side of her foot against Robin’s big combat boots. She scribbled something down on the open and inked-up notepad on the desk in front of her.

“Whatcha writing?” Robin asked, nodding down at the offending paper. Nancy passed it over to her, laughing as she watched her quickly lick off the sugar icing as to not dirty the pad. Robin squinted her tired eyes, red-faced and fresh. A child. “Hm. Red wheelbarrow. Red hair. Who’s got red hair?” She tilted her head. Nancy reached over and tugged representatively at a strand fallen out from behind Robin’s pink-tipped ear.

“You’re so red all the time,” Nancy said.

“Is that a good thing?” Robin replied. She leaned down to take a tentative sip of her burning hot coffee. It scalded her tongue. It reminded her of being alive. She smiled into the rim of the mug.

“What color am I?” Nancy asked, moving forward to rest her chin on her open palm. Robin hummed contemplatively and dipped a finger in Nancy’s tea. It was equally hot and swirling. Nancy paid no mind.

“You’re green,” Robin said decisively. Nancy raised a questioning eyebrow and stole another piece of Robin’s cinnamon roll. “Like the forests back home.”

“And the forests here aren’t green?” Nancy asked, laughing.

“It’s a different kind of green,” Robin elaborated. She passed Nancy back her notepad, watching as she jotted down two words - different greens - in the margins of her work-in-progress poem. “It’s a warmer green. Even though you run cold.”

“You’re not red just because you’re burning hot all the time,” Nancy protested. She held up her tea cup in offering. Robin took it and tasted it experimentally. It tasted like floral. It smelled like Nancy. The green coloring swam in front of her eyes. She loved this coffee shop.

“We’re Christmas colors,” Robin gasped. Nancy stole her coffee mug out from underneath her hand. 

“I’ll toast to that.” When they knocked their mugs together, the liquids splashed into each other. 

* * *

Anyway, El’s been begging to go see the beach, so I think we’ll head out soon enough. She’s just finishing her last exams and then we’ll have the winter off. She finally decided she wanted to study biology. I think it’s perfect for her. And Lucas’ book - it’s great. Just great. If you want, we can send you a copy. He’ll sign it and everything. He’s very excited. I hope you’re doing well.

Love always,

Mad Max

* * *

Robin tucked her nose into the warm fabric of her scarf. On the cobblestone street of their little backwater town, the ground was getting littered with snow. Nancy was a few feet in front of her, gloved hands picking at a haphazard stack of books outside. They rested atop packed cardboard boxes, scribbled on with unreadable words and backlit by the yellow-stained windows of the bookshop they were in front of. A red, messy sign that read ‘ONE DOLLAR’ was taped and half-off the main table. 

“Anything good?” Robin asked, words muffled by the thick wool. Her scarf was roughly knit, a gift from Joyce Byers (who was attempting to find something else to do with her hands besides chain-smoking). 

“A signed copy of Frankenstein,” Nancy said, shaking a small paperback around enticingly.

“Signed?” Robin repeated incredulously.

“I didn’t say by who,” Nancy laughed. Robin snatched the book from her willing hands, cracking it open to the inside of the front cover. Therein lied a note written by blue pen: to suzie christmas 1960. “Wonder why Suzie gave it up.” Robin furiously flipped through the pages, uncaring that it was decades old. As she did so, a group of about twenty pages suddenly came apart from the spine and fell onto the snow-covered ground. The two women watched it flutter down, barely holding back their laughter.

“Probably that,” Robin said. She handed Nancy the book, who tucked it back into the book Jenga game in front of them. “You wanna go in?”

“Did you even have to ask?” Nancy replied. As they squeezed their way through the tiny, handbuilt doorway, Robin let her fingertips brush Nancy’s waist. It was a dangerous game, even in their sweet, sleepy little town. The older woman at the register seemed seconds away from passing out. Robin let her fingers stay on Nancy’s waist. 

“History section?” Robin suggested, letting her eager eyes stray down the stacks of bending bookcases. She caught a glimpse of a book about ancient Europe and nearly foamed at the mouth from excitement.

“Science fiction!” Nancy argued. Robin followed her dutifully.

“Haven’t you lived through enough?” She groaned dramatically, leaning on the shelf as Nancy shifted meticulously through the books. Robin registered how far back they’d gotten in the bookstore - nearly at the back. They were completely alone. As she watched Nancy pick out the leftovers of the shelf in front of her, she shook off her scarf.

“They’re raising the prices,” Nancy muttered absently, flipping with fast fingers through the Ks and Ls. Robin draped her scarf around Nancy’s neck. The wool fell in front of her eyes.

“Guess who,” Robin sing-songed. Nancy’s hand came up to yank down at the fabric, smirking up at her much taller girlfriend. She stepped back so that her back hit Robin’s chest, pressing them together. 

“Hello, beautiful,” Nancy said, tilting her head up to meet eyes with Robin. The scarf fell to the floor, completely forgotten. Robin’s hand drifted to grab at Nancy’s chin, holding her face in place as she leaned down and connected their lips. Nancy laughed at the position, spinning in place to fully face Robin in between the tight bookshelves. Robin squeezed her chin and then dropped her arms to wrap them around Nancy’s waist. She yanked her closer. They melted together.

Robin slowly pressed Nancy into the bookshelf, wooden grooves and all. She tilted her head and suddenly her mouth was falling open in pure contentment, Nancy responding tenfold. Her hands shot up to grip at Robin’s hair - a habit Robin loved teasing her about. 

She whimpered into Robin’s mouth, a quiet little noise Robin heard like a bomb. She pushed her farther into the shelf in reply. One of her hands balled up a bit of Nancy’s sweater in her fist, fingertips skimming her skin. As they tussled against the stack, a group of hastily stacked books fell to the floor.

Robin pulled back, eyes deer-like and scared. But the woman at the front made no move to come back and see them. She kept Nancy close to her chest, both blinking back to the present.

“You make me forget where I am,” Robin told her as Nancy bent down to grab at the poor, damaged books. Nancy set them back onto the bookshelf with a final pat to their covers.

“You make me forget I’m alive,” Nancy retorted. She scooped up the scarf and tossed it around her neck with a wink. It looked much better on her, Robin thought. Everything was beautiful on Nancy Wheeler.

* * *

Nance and Rob,

We’ve got a guest room with clean sheets if you want it. Come out and escape the New Hampshire snow.

Jon and Argyle

* * *

The dimly lit sign nailed up outside the teensy church said the Christmas candlelit service was at 8 o’clock. Robin tilted her head to check it out, admiring the lopsided Jesus figure atop the sign. She resisted the urge to fix its position.

“Snowball?” Nancy offered from a few feet away. Robin turned on her heel just as Nancy was pitching back and tossing said weapon, which she’d balled up from the multitude of snow at her feet. Robin raised her hands too slowly. The snowball hit her square in the chest, soaking through her coat. She grinned challengingly and made a ‘come here’ motion with her hands. “No, no, I already gave it to you!”

“I want to return the favor,” Robin protested, bending halfway over to scoop at snow blindly - she couldn’t tear her eyes from a pink-cheeked Nancy even if she wanted to.

“You really don’t have to,” Nancy reassured, but it was too late. Robin threw the snowball way over her head - it hit the back of Nancy’s hip as she shrieked and leapt away.

“No, no, you ran away,” Robin said, words dipped in laughter. “Come back, let me get you again.”

“I think one was enough!” Nancy squealed as Robin rushed forwards like a bull, hands piled high with snow. “Rob!”

“Come here, you coward!” Robin accused, but it hardly held any weight with how much she was giggling. Nancy dodged again. Robin scooped up more snow and stumbled forwards, puffing out her cheeks and turning a little green. 

“Rob?” Nancy asked, all concerned. She stepped forward, hand on Robin’s shoulder. Robin grinned mischievously up at her for a second before she made a gagging sound. She pretended to throw up the snow all down Nancy’s coat, stumbling into her and her hand. Nancy gasped from the sudden cold. “Robin Buckley!”

“It’d sound better with Wheeler after it, wouldn’t it?” Robin said, grinning like a fox. Nancy rolled her eyes affectionately. She let Robin pull her in close, pressing their equally soaked chests together for warmth.

“I dunno, I think Nancy Buckley has a good ring to it,” Nancy mused. Unbeknownst to Robin, she began to shuffle snow with her heels. 

“You would never give up your last name,” Robin argued. Nancy hummed in agreement, reaching up with one hand to cart her fingers through Robin’s shaggy hair. As her girlfriends’ eyes shut in contentment, Nancy reached down with her other hand and grabbed loosely at snow. She slammed it down onto Robin’s head. The snow leaked down onto her face as her eyes snapped open, betrayed.

“You traitor!” Robin shouted. She barreled into Nancy, sending them both tumbling onto the snow. They rolled around in the snow, tussling for control and better access to ammo, getting increasingly colder and wetter as they went. Robin shoved snow down Nancy’s sweater along her spine. Nancy managed to get a few flakes into Robin’s open, accusatory mouth. 

“Truce?” Robin gasped, chest heaving as she flopped onto her back in the snow. The steeple above, towering over them like God himself, peered over her. Nancy’s face, flushed and beautiful, appeared for a moment before she was flopping down beside her. 

“Truce,” Nancy agreed, equally exhausted. Her gloved hand flopped out on the snow to grab at Robin’s hand. Their fingers tangled together. It was a ball of warmth. Robin shut her eyes and let out a sigh, breathing in the smell of snow.

* * *

Robin, please please please let me come over and visit. I’m so sick of Oregon. Okay, that’s a lie. I love Oregon. I love teaching. But I want to see you. Maybe become a Robert Frost. Maybe read some Nancy Wheeler poetry. Maybe ordain your wedding? Kidding. Kind of. Call me!

Your best friend, 

Steve

* * *

Robin squinted into the lit fireplace, embers sizzling as it kickstarted itself. Outside the snowstorm raged. On the coffee table in front of her was a spread of letters and postcards, collected from friends. All waiting to be responded to. They’d been silent for too long.

But as she watched Nancy putter around in the kitchen, cooking up a batch of rocky road cookies and working on another round of coffee, Robin couldn’t help wishing they were the only two people in the world. Living in this little cottage off the side of the road, surrounded by mountains and wind and birch trees, it felt like they were. She smiled to herself. Nancy swore as she burnt the tip of her pointer on the hot, rumbling oven.

“Cookies are almost done!” Nancy called out, turning her head in Robin’s vague direction. She knew where she was. She looked almost shrunken in the low doorway from the living room to the kitchen, the doorway Robin had to duck through everytime she passed - or hit her forehead on the rim as a consequence of not thinking. Still Robin appreciated the hobbit hole. She liked feeling so close and so small. She’d never been able to feel that way before, at least not positively.

It was hard to believe anything had happened. Hard to believe it would never happen again. She let herself close her eyes and shift on their lumpy couch, head to the plush back and body warmed by the fire. The letters spoke like her friends. Robin wished they were here, in person. Then again, it was nice for everybody to be somewhere else.

“You wanna lick the spoon?” Nancy asked, waving around the spoon enticingly. She pretended to drop it into the sink, laughing as Robin’s face twisted up in childish pain. “You know I would never!”

“Nance, you’re evil,” Robin promised. She managed to get up off the couch anyway, stumbling through the doorway (ducking her head) to reach her girlfriend. She came to stand beside Nancy in front of the oven. The cookies within rose like little babies. Nancy passed her the spoon. Robin gave her a kiss on the cheek as thank you. She devoured the leftover batter like a starved man. Nancy just laughed. She looked adorable in her overalls, too big for her body and perfect for her soul.

“You’re a child,” Nancy retorted, leaning up against the counter a with a grin. Robin shrugged, unaffected. She dropped the spoon into the waiting bowl, which had been disposited in the sink. Soapy water splashed up onto the sides of her long sweater sleeves.

“You love me,” Robin challenged. Nancy reached up to twirl a bit of Robin’s hair around her finger and nodded in easy agreement.

“I do,” Nancy said. “I will.”

“Forever?” Robin asked. Nancy pursed her lips, the smile on her face that seemed permanent whenever she looked at Robin. She stepped closer and watched. 

“Longer than that,” Nancy promised.

“Cheeseball.”

“Nerd,” Robin replied snarkily. When she leaned down to kiss Nancy, she met her halfway - arms around her neck, feet stepping on each other, the whole shebang. The oven dinged tellingly. Robin tightened her grip on Nancy’s waist. There was no point in letting her go. 

[thedarkheretic156]

++++++Random bleach Drabble 2+++++++

I just wanna write about how they would kiss you welp

Day 2 - Kisuke Urahara

"How does that taste?"

Kisuke made a face, "sweet,." he said, "but also weirdly gamy urgh-" He very unattractively spit out another piece of colorful candy. The store was surprisingly empty today afternoon, You and Kisuke had decided to try out the new candy flavors from soul society. With the children and Yoruichi out, it was rare for you to have the place to yourself.

"That tasted so disgusting I need to cleanse my palette." he mewled . You coyly held up a strawberry mochi, but he just clicked his tongue. He crawled forward and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. "That's better."

"Wait that's it?" You complained. Kisuke smiled, "Want more sweetheart?" he teased, but complied just as quickly.

His palm cupped your face. His hand was so big, your face could just fit inside his palm perfectly. He kissed you again, deeply this time. You slipped out a moan as he glided his tongue along your lower lip. The bolt of want shot through your body. So warm.

You felt his breath hitch as you drove forward, trying to make it deeper. But he pulled you away by your shoulders. Eyes glazed under his cap. "Easy now love." He said.

He held up another bright blue piece, "We still have this last one to test." He pressed the candy to your lips. It didn't taste all that bad, sweet and a little sour, but it painted your lips and tongue a bright blue. You gave him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, leaving behind an inky blue smudge. Kisuke traced it with his thumb and licked it off. "Not bad, but I do like you better."

You laughed and leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose, before settling on his lips. He let out a triumphant sigh against your mouth, fingers finding your lower back. Your forehead pushed against his cap, causing it to slide up. You could feel the warmth of his blush against your face, the tuffs of his blond hair brushing up against your cheek.

He murmured against you mouth, pulling away. You whined a bit, "Kisuke~"

"That needy?" he mused, "People would think I keep you touch starved for days." He picked you up by your waist, moving himself in a more comfortable position against the wall. He moved you so that you were practically in his lap.

His back against the wall, legs spread out far too invitingly. He pulled his stripped hat off, sliding an arm around your waist so you could be pulled into his chest.

“Now~” he sang, “Kiss me properly.”

You grinned, “Who am I to deny you that?” He always kissed you with a hint of a smile pulling the corners of his mouth.

“I TOLD YOU SO!” the door slammed open and you practically threw urahara across the room in an attempt to get away.

Ururu and Jinta raced in, arguing. Yoruichi, clearly bored trailed behind them. Her feline eyes spotted you two and she read the room easily.

Yoruichi’s eyes narrowed, “Did we interrupt something?” She said casually, unable to keep the smile off her face.

“Absolutely nothing.” Kisuke said through noticeably swollen lips. "we were just trying out the new flavors."

"Your lips are blue!" Jinta pointed out, "And they look puffy, maybe they didn't suite you."

"Happens when you get too greedy~" Kisuke said grinning.

Asshat

[everlastingdreams]

Weeping Monk x Reader : The Patience Of A Heart    Chapter 9

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Story Summary: After fire claimed the lives of your family, the monastery of your Uncle Carden becomes your new home. As the niece of a priest you are expected to behave prim and proper, but not even the watchful eyes of the Weeping Monk can see all. An ancient magic returns to life when love and duty begin to blur.

Chapter Title: Broken Trust

Notes: *sips tea* I love how much I hate a certain character in this part.

Warnings: There’s a list of warnings for this story: Murder. Violence. Death. Angst. Sexism. Strong Language. Trauma. Childhood trauma. Survivor’s guilt. Mentions of child maltreatment. Threat of Sexual assault. PTSD. Misogyny, Self-flagellation. Gore.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forbidden Love. Romance. Pining. Smut. Spicy content. Little Slow-burn.

Word count of this fic: +110K

Chapter:  9 / lol Gonna keep the chapter count a secret until the end.

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In the morning you woke up alone.

The Monk, Lancelot…had left before you had opened your eyes.

You saw him again at breakfast, in the large room filled with long wooden tables that looked like they would not last for much longer anymore.

All expenses went to the Church’s mission…

As you plucked pieces from the bread to put them in your mouth, he sat not far from your uncle and you could feel his gaze on you.

It made you wonder if he had often just quietly stared at you before in the weeks that had passed. You would have brushed it off as him doing his duty of protecting you, but after last night…

Smoothing out your dress was one way to pretend like you did not notice, you plucked a little faster at the bread to act busy.

It took him a while that morning to pry your fingers from where they had their hold on his attire without waking you.

The next challenge came when he was to leave your room without being seen and he had considered the ivy, but being caught climbing out your window would have been worse.

Father had come to speak to him not long after, he could barely face him after what he had done with Father’s niece…

Ah, yes, this morning had started well.

And now his attention continuously drifted between the tankard of water in his hand and you. The way your fingers touched your parting lips as you ate…

Heaven, he needed to fix his eyes on something else before others would notice.

A paladin entered the room and stopped next to you, he caught your attention “Lady y/n, a letter was brought for you.”

And with those spoken words, the whole room stared in your direction. Who would send you a letter? The only family you had left was looking over at you with suspicion.

Then the way your name was written on the outside of the folded parchment explained where it had come from.

Isaiah…

Dammit.

You tried to just put the letter under your plate and hoped it would be ignored.

Uncle Carden was not willing to just ignore the strange letter “Dear y/n, have you received a letter?”

Like he didn’t know damn well that you had…

Was he testing you now??

You feigned innocence “Yes, Uncle. I will look at it after the meal, it would be rude to do it now.”

He gestured around the room “Oh, come now. We are not so stern on things. Go on, read it.”

This was a test… he wanted to see your reaction to what was written…

Refusing would look bad…

You picked the letter up from under the plate and unfolded it close to your face so the people sitting next to you would not see.

It held a brief apology for the insult aimed at you and a slight jealous toned description of what had happened, according to Isaiah, the night Lancelot had stopped him from trying to climb into your room. Most of it was him just trying to make you feel like you remembered that night wrong, the apology sounded far from sincere.

But what worried you was that he mentioned Lancelot being there too…

How could Isaiah be so stupid to think that it was a smart idea to hand such a personal letter to a paladin??

It must have been visible on your face that the letter had annoyed you terribly.

He kept his attention darting between you and Father. He knew that look Father had, if only he could have warned you.

The priest gestured to you again “Well? Who is it from?”

The letter was quickly folded again “A friend.”

He parroted “A friend?” then commanded “Brother Albert. Take that letter and bring it to me.”

The letter was snatched from where you had tried to put it out of sight under the plate again by the paladin who sat next to you.

Right away you objected “Uncle! That letter is personal!”

Your uncle gave the cold answer “It arrived into my monastery where I have so generously offered you shelter.”

Another threat to toss you out to live on the streets or in the woods…

If there was one thing you hated, it was manipulating games like this.

You watched the letter be carried to him “I never questioned your generosity, uncle, only your trust in your only niece.”

If he could play this game, so could you.

He even appeared hesitant to take the letter from Brother Albert now “Trust is earned, my girl. And we must all prove ourselves worthy for God’s garden.”

Your hands were balled into fists under the table, he was treating you like a child. Worse even.

Lancelot met your eyes, silently questioning in how much trouble you had gotten yourself into now.

Uncle took the letter and folded it open, at first he looked calm and then…

That description must have made it quite easy to understand where that letter had come from, especially when it was signed with the sender’s name at the bottom.

It did not take the priest long to understand what could be happening.

First his Weeping Monk interfered when he had tried to strike you, now this. And his Monk had not spoken a word of it.

Father was glaring daggers at him…

What on earth was written in that letter???

The priest crumpled up the letter “Brother Albert. Escort my niece to her room. The meal is over, all shall leave.”

He stood up with the others, but one look from Father told that ‘all’ did not include him.

You kept calm, it had been years since you had seen your Uncle and these past weeks were not enough to truly know how awful he could even be.

Brother Albert approached your side and waited for you to rise from the chair.

You dared to look past your uncle to Lancelot, who gave a very shallow nod.

Only then did you agree to be escorted to your room.

  The Monk and the priest were left in the room with the many half-empty plates that were abandoned.

He did not know why Father was so angered, only that he was the reason of his wrath.

The back of Father’s hand struck his jaw so hard that he tasted blood in his mouth.

The Monk stood motionless, prepared to let the wave of rage crash down upon his being.

Father threw the crumpled piece of parchment at the Monk’s feet “How dare you?!? After everything I have done for you! I raised you into our sharpest blade and this is what I get in return? You are as weak of mind as all the others who cannot resist to grab and bite the poisoned apple that takes away all hope of reaching God’s garden!”

And with that outburst, he knew Father knew something…

But how much?

Father pointed at the crumpled parchment on the floor, barking his disdain for what had been kept hidden from him “This man, this ‘Isaiah’ describes an encounter! You were there and so was my niece. I tasked you with keeping a close eye on her, then how come I was not aware of this?!?”

He tried to give a truthful answer that would not bring more trouble “That man tried to break into the monastery. I stopped him. Lady y/n heard us talking, matters escalated. I did as you have asked of me, Father. I send the man away and send her back to her room. I protected her and her virtue.”

Father was more angry over something other than that encounter “Protected her virtue… to take it for yourself. Do you think me a fool?”

He felt himself go pale and hoped his hood helped hide it “I do not understand-”

The priest got into his face to demand an answer “Why is it, that when it comes to my niece, that you keep secrets? Hmm. Why did you stop me from striking her when she needed discipline?”

The Monk could not find an excuse in time or look Father in the eyes.

There was another quiet outburst “How dare you even think of tainting her with what you are!”

That had been the most painful to hear, the words set their claws in him, tearing at him inside.

All he could do was try to calm Father down before he became irrational “Forgive me, Father… I try to resist…”

The apology was not accepted “You do not try hard enough. And therefore you will not speak to her again, you will not even look at her! I will find a place to send her away to, until then, do not let me learn of you failing to follow my orders again.”

The priest turned and left, leaving him there alone among the abandoned tables and meals.

If this was how Father reacted to the mere possibility that something could happen, he did not wish to find out what Father’s reaction would be to what happened last night…

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 Not long after you were escorted to your room, paladins came to collect you again. They brought you to a room similar to the one you had been sleeping in, the only difference was that they let you walk inside like nothing was wrong, then they closed and locked the door.

It clicked quickly and you ran to try and get the door open, it did not budge…

There was panic rising in you “What are you doing?!?”

Brother Albert explained the situation only briefly “Father has ordered for you to be kept inside the room until other accommodations are found.”

You screamed through the closed door “You can’t do this!”

Their descending footsteps proved you wrong, how could your uncle be this controlling and cruel?

If this was how he treated family, you feared how he would treat Lancelot after that letter…

Your next action was to go and look out the window, no ivy grew alongside this one.

Dammit.

If you tried to escape that way, a nasty fall in that thorned rose bush you had plucked a rose from would be the result. If you had known, you’d have plucked that whole damn bush out of the ground.

After a quick look around the room you only saw one other option and pulled the linen sheets from the bed.

You ripped them into long pieces to form a makeshift ‘rope’ long enough to climb out the window with, which did not take long thanks to the simmering anger to fuel you.

No, you never liked being treated like this. Even your parents had often seen you do the most insane things when you felt wronged.

When the sun finally went down and no one had unlocked the door, you went through with your plan.

One of the rope’s ends you had tied to the bedpost, the other you tossed out the window. Even in the darkness you could see that it was not long enough to reach the ground, you’d have to make a jump for it when you’d run out of ‘rope’.

Climbing trough the window was difficult, your dress kept getting stuck but it worked. You looked down once before starting your descend, not looking forward to that jump.

With each small movement down the rope, you lost a little faith and courage.

Maybe it had been a bad idea…

That annoying rose bush was right beneath your feet, you kicked it a little, hoping to get it out of the way more.

With your foot against the stone wall, you pushed yourself off to the side and made the jump.

You hit the damp grass with your side, feeling the pain of the fall mostly in your shoulder and lower arm.

For a second you laid on your side to collect yourself.

Suddenly you felt someone trying to grab you, of course you fought back, not willing to let yourself be dragged back to that room again “Let go-”

The words were muffled by the hand covering your mouth.

They got you to your feet and it was then that you bit them.

The hold on you was released and you spun around.

The Monk was flabbergasted, shaking his hand lightly “Did you just bite me?!?”

You murmured an awkward apology “Sorry… but you were grabbing me…”

He send you a look “To help you up from the ground.”

He had a suspicion that you would attempt this, it was only a matter of time and he doubted you were a patient person when it came to this.

He reached out for you, taking your pain-free lower arm to pull you closer, voice dropping to a whisper “Father suspects that I have grown affection for you and has forbidden me from being near you again. He intends to send you to the abbey for some time.”

It sounded like your uncle was determined to keep the two of you apart.

You barely kept your voice down “An abbey?!? I am not a nun!”

His voice wavered while struggling to speak about what he had learned “You would be offered shelter there until Father has found a suitable candidate for you.”

The anger only grew again “Does my uncle think that he can trade me for things that serve his purpose?!? I will not be forced into marriage!”

His hand was on your mouth again, he hushed your fears “Consider this. If you are in the abbey, if you go of your own free will, you will have freedom. Father believes he can control the abbey, he cannot. Every time I am there, I see how Father’s orders are left ignored. Father is only in charge if he is there and the Abbess is too stubborn to listen once he is gone.”

You felt his fingers drag over your lips when he removed his hand “You are saying that I should pretend to be a nun to avoid my uncle’s tyranny?”

Lancelot gave a nod “Father rarely visits the abbey. Perhaps three times a year. I am the one he sends to run errands.”

Oh…

There was indeed a plan, if you pretended to willingly go to the abbey to ‘atone for your sins’, your uncle would not have such power over you. And it would offer the time you needed to find a way to earn a living for yourself.

A coy grin played on your lips “I’m impressed. I never thought you would be so rebellious of nature.”

The smirk he had as a result was something he tried to hide “Go to the abbey. Build a new life, y/n.”

One thing was left unspoken off until now “One with you still in it, if you agree…”

He gently squeezed your lower arm “I will visit often.”

In the darkness, from this distance, you could see the bruise on his cheek “Did my uncle hit you again?”

The answer was in how his gaze dropped to the side for a moment.

You were filled with remorse over it “I made such a mess…”

Father was a difficult person to please, it was not your fault that you nor anyone else could meet Father’s high expectations.

This would earn him an uncountable amount of lashes if anyone saw…

He cupped your cheek as gentle as possible “Do not blame yourself.”

Your fingers touched the bruise “I am so sorry for everything that my uncle has done to you. I know my apology is not enough, but that doesn’t mean that it should not be said. That boy I met years ago, I have never forgotten the way he looked at me when I asked him to play, as if he did not even know what it meant.”

By the sight of his eyes starting to glisten, you knew the pain was there but buried under the burden of having to be strong and loyal to the person who had caused all this.

Even after all these years, he still remembered how it felt. To be so young and act so strong. Act… because that was all it had been back then. An act to be seen as the person Father expected him to be. An act to seem worthy of the god he was being raised to serve.

That day when he first met you, you had been the first other child he had seen in months. And you had spoken to him while others had fled at this sight of him…

His touched his forehead to yours, hands sliding to the back of your head, he could feel you shiver “And that boy has never forgotten the girl who saw him… truly saw him.”

He held you so intimately that you feared being caught together like this “Lancelot, someone could see.”

His attention went to your surroundings, scanning for any unwanted eyes “You are not at blame for what I have become, or how. I only wish for a future that has us both together as we are now.”

With no one in sight, he rolled up the sleeve of your dress, taking hold of your lower arm “Would you want that?”

You frowned at the action “You know I do.”

He kept the sleeve where it was, baring your lower arm to him “Before I was what I am now, in my village, there was a tradition.”

Your eyes darted between his hand and his face “What sort of tradition?”

It was one of the only memories he still had “The Ash Men shared their markings with those they had formed a bond with.”

That didn’t sound like he was telling everything “What sort of bond?”

He could feel the nervousness in his chest “One of lovers.”

With a tilt of the head, he gave a silent warning and let his gaze drop to your arm.

Yours dropped to his hand, when green leaf-like pattern began spreading over the back of it and it startled you.

Now his eyes were on your face to see your reaction, you did not pull your arm free and were fascinated by the sight of these Fey markings appearing before your very eyes.

They spread from his skin upon your own, growing from his hand and fingers unto your arm.

Your eyes were glued to it, with childlike wonder you witnessed it grow up your arm. Soon they began to disappear again, leaving only a faint silver outline of them that glowed on your skin until they faded too.

Invisible to all eyes but his, the mark the Ash Folk would give to one they considered their other half.

His thumb brushed over where they had faded, still feeling their presence “I am yours, as you are mine.”

It sounded like he was claiming you as his, not to be shared for or with anyone else…

The faded marks still tingled lightly “Did you just mark me?”

He hummed content, not yet detecting the sarcasm “Perhaps.”

You arched a brow, smiling “Like a cow?”

Almost did he roll his eyes “As a woman who is the lover of an Ash Man.”

So many questions, so little answers “What are they for?”

There was the faint hint of a smirk and he brushed his hand along the arm again.

The silver markings came back to the surface of your skin, but what was more surprising is how they responded to him.

Your chest felt warm and it even made you a little lightheaded, it was quite pleasant “I feel… strange?”

He inquired gently “Good?”

You nodded, feeling the effects of the markings wear off as they vanished again “Why do they make me feel like that?”

There was a smug smirk on his face while informing “They would not cause anything if there was no connection between us. And that is why, should you one day choose to break our bond, they would vanish from your skin again.”

The look you gave told him that you had no such intentions “I never knew you had Fey magic… does my uncle know?”

If Father knew all, he doubted he would be given so much freedom “He knows of some, not all. I was taught to forsake it. I should not use the powers of evil if I am to earn my salvation and place in God’s garden.”

As he was taught to forsake all he once was…

He explained, part of it sounded like it was merely to teach you of it and part of it sounded like he was trying to make sense of it himself “Any form of magic is deemed evil, it poisons the soul. The Church fears the power the Feys have, fears what it will cause. Some even think that every time magic is used, evil enters our world.”

Was this what the Church spread about the Fey? “And that is why you do not use it.”

He gave a shallow nod, his eyes fixed on the grass “Even with this, I fear that I am tainting you. That this evil within me will spread and put it’s claim on you. I can feel it within me, like a serpent twisting into my stomach.”

What if this was his true self trying to break free from the chains put on him?

What if it was his conscious twisting at what your uncle had taught him to do?

It was a statement “You fear it…”

He confessed “I do.”

Your hand clasped around his “The answers you seek… you will not find them among Manbloods, Lancelot. My kind can only learn, but never fully know what it means to be Fey.”

He was already giving up on it “Then I shall never have answers.”

Carefully, you gave a little push for him to be more open towards his heritage “Not unless you search for them yourself.”

It would be seen as betrayal if he ever were to spend time learning more of his heritage.

His loyalty was to the Church, to Manbloods, not to the enemy in this war “You know I cannot.”

You felt him hook his index finger around yours “That is a decision only you can make. You can spend your whole life searching and fighting for a life in the hope that it will bring you solace and salvation. But to do that, should you not live life through your truest self?”

It looked like his head was spinning with all that concerned him.

You wished to comfort him “If being with you means I will be ‘tainted’’, then I accept it. That is the decision I make. I prefer to be ‘tainted’ over not being with the person who has been there for me and through so much. Damn it all, I could be your solace and salvation if you’d let me be. In this life, long before we ever reach God’s garden.”

With one quick movement, he had your back against the monastery’s wall with a look so intense that it had you at it’s mercy.

His forehead touched yours, hands kneading at your arms “You are indeed a bad influence on me.”

The gentle nudge of his nose against yours was what brought the smile back to your face.

Something passed your thoughts “Wait… how do I get back to my room without them noticing?”

He quipped “Climb back up?”

It was almost a glare “Pardon me?”

It took some effort for him not to laugh at your reaction “How else did you go back when you visited the village at night?”

You pointed at the wall “There’s no ivy here!”

He gave the hint “There is at the window of your old room.”

Your mouth opened, then snapped shut again “Oh…”

Well…

It was a short walk to the old window with the ivy growing next to it.

In the meantime he explained how much safer it was to just climb the ivy and go from room to room, than to try and reach it by sneaking through half the monastery.

It had been a while since you last climbed the ivy. He must have noticed the hesitation, because when you started to climb he stood near just in case.

For a second you stopped climbing and looked down on him, the moonlight reminded you of how striking his eyes could be “Want to climb up too?”

Those striking eyes blinked rapidly, confused for only two counts before he must have realized it had been a proposition to come to your room.

Right away they dropped down to the damp grass, the timidness causing him to rub a hand over his chin.

Finally his chin lifted up, eyes spotting that cheeky smile on your face “Is that a requirement for all those who seek your affection?”

You pulled out some ivy leaves and tossed them down at him “Very funny.”

He flashed a smile “Go on. Climb.”

It took some effort, but you reached the window and climbed into the room.

All he heard was a dull thud…

The curse words escaping were not heard and you got off of the ground you had fallen to after crawling in through the window.

Back in your old room…

You looked out the window, signaling to Lancelot that you were alright.

He signaled for you to go, a good advice before others might find you gone from the other room.

It was nerve wracking to sneak through the hallways, luckily most of the monastery was asleep at this hour.

Finally you reached the room again, the key was on the door.

After unlocking it, you went inside and hurried over to the torn sheets you had made a rope with.

You untied them from the bed and from each other, then hid them under the bed.

When later a paladin came to see if you were still there, you had heard him mumble in a panic and he had opened the door to see you ‘asleep’ in bed. The door was locked again, you had heard him turn the key.

You would need to be patient if you wanted to have a chance to have more of these moments with the monk who had stolen your heart.

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[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 80 // Itty Bitty Issues // Day 55 Part 1

Contents (Warnings): Lynette gets to go back to work (teasing, slight angst, g/t, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 3,000 +

Song I correlate to this Chapter: Middle Of The Night (ViolinCover) - Joel Sunny

Side note: This chapter will be with Lynette's part in third person (I'm playing/testing with it). If it's too disorienting this far into the story, go ahead and send me a message on this post! And or if you like this better, do the same!

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(Nov. 19th, Saturday (right after eating Lynette)

Lev

He swayed back to his seat. He rested back down and ran his slightly pointed tongue across his lips. A bit of her taste still remained on them. 

He did it more so out of habit than obsession. 

Her struggle slowly simmered down, an occasionally misplaced kick or two, but that had been it. Aw, did I play with you too much beforehand? He chirped in his own mind, knowing if he projected his voice to her, she'd be too tired to hear it. 

His yellow flame framed his phone. He ran over the black screen before his hand tapped at its surface twice. It lit up and showed another new message from her. 

The weight at his stomach grew heavier, and it wasn't because of Lynette's body. He pressed his fangs together and tilted his head back. My neck feels cold. 

Bzzzt

The sudden vibration in his pocket knocked him out of it. He brought out hers. It was something that didn't shrink with her. He tapped on the screen, and he could see it was a message from someone named Wicks. 

Her phone didn't let him read it. He had to put in a pattern to reveal more options. What would she put? He smirked. She'd make it a recognizable shape, and I'd imagine it'd be something she'd find cute.

His first thought went to the Halloween party. He could vividly remember the ridiculous mascot-like costume that summoned the monster's eyes to her. He didn't expect to precisely replicate the pattern first try. 

Her phone unlocked for him. Lev snickered at the odds. 

"Your very predictable, aren't you?" His hands tapped at his abdomen. It was hard to tell she rested inside. He opened her message without hesitation. 

Wicks: I want you to send me updates starting tomorrow. 2:30 a.m. 

Updates, huh? The urge to take a picture of his abdomen and send it to Wicks was, oh, so tempting. But, his fascination with this character drove his curiosity more. Who is Wicks? Is it the brother she mentioned? If I recall, she did say she hadn't been involved with magic. 

He put two and two together and still found himself unsure whether he knew what was going on or assumed something else. It'll be fun to extract from her later. 

Lev looked back at the time on the clock, and since he had a little more than an hour to kill, he took the time to eat the rest of his cold steak, chopping it into pieces and then eating bite by bite as he scrolled through Lynette's phone. 

...

(Nov. 19th, Saturday, noon)

He had two hours left before he had to bring her back to work. 

His digits tapped at his stomach, and his other hand clutched the small wooden figurine he had made. He made a replica of the guy he was seeing tonight. He tried to capture the same detail and style as the guy previously showed him. 

Lev admired the work, running his hand along the curves of the sanded and softwood. He placed it on top of the spinning maze he made. 

He opened one of its small doors and brushed his finger across the tiny dots. It made him smile. If Lynette had known Brail, she would have found herself overwhelmed as all the doors said Lev Lawless, and the walls inside stated that they were the correct way to the exit, misleading her direction to purposefully push her to a dead end. 

He shut the tiny door and stood up. His workroom had gotten quite cluttered. He had many hobbies he had picked up from his dates littered about inside the room. Including the dartboard he trained with. 

You were so lucky Alexander decided to be petty. Since he rushed his fun, he'd love to have her around for two more days. These games have been so fun, though.

He had moved next to his door, flicking to the T.V. in the back corner. He wanted to bring another fighting game to bet with, whereas he also liked being able to observe his opponents closely. So games that required the other to look one another in the eye excited him the most. 

We should get some fresh air. Lev amused himself, going to his room to get dressed. He'd go out and get a coffee with her still inside him.

She had already been in him for nine hours. Unlike the hybrid, Alexander, Lev, much like any other monster, didn't have a limit. 

He weaved in and out of traffic, ending up at a coffee shop near the pizzeria. He got in line, only one other keeping him from getting his roasted coffee at the counter. 

His eyes danced between each customer and staff member. He eventually landed his gaze on the woman in front of him due to her "subtle" glances.

He stepped up before she paid and offered to pay it with his. 

...

Lynette

When her eyes opened, she gasped. Nothing was underneath her, and she panicked to grab what suspended her. Due to the pants below her and her quick glance up, she quickly figured out what and who it was.

He held Lynette up by the middle of her shirt back. It kept her arms from being able to successfully grab at his fingers.

"What's the matter, Lynette?" Lev said. He tipped her toward his face. "Do you find the outside world so scary that you'd rather hide away inside of me? I'm so flattered.~" He teasingly put her near his lips, "I'll gladly-"

"NO! I never want to be inside your body again."

Lev exhaled. He looks pleased with himself. "Then it sounds like you have to win your bets and everyone else's, huh?" He swung her back, "I'd love it if you could make it more of a challenge for me."

I can't do that when you all stack the games against me! She didn't want to give Lev more reasons to antagonize her, especially after his omission yesterday. Even if he ate her without reason, he treated her no different than food.

Her mind slipped back to what happened after she was swallowed. There weren't any noticeable changes. At least as Lev described, there was no unbearable smoldering heat nor any remanence of the smoothie he drank.

"The challenges are usually as fair as the coin toss," She quietly uttered.

Lev's finger poked the side of her face. He pressed at it, spinning her around slowly. Her work shirt tightened.

"I wasn't the one who won the coin toss, Lynette.~" He stopped what he was doing at the fifth swat of her tiny hand to his finger. He let her go, and she spun around as the shirt untwisted.

She couldn't stop herself and exclaimed, "You could have lied."

A minacious smug scoff left his mouth, "Why would I make it into a game otherwise? If I won every time, it'd get boring."

She held her tongue again. She felt like Lev dared her to question him further.

I don't want to give him any other ideas. 

Lynette looked away from him. Pay attention to anything else, Lynette.  She peered out the tinted windows. We're in the pizzeria parking lot? "Why did you take me to the pizzeria so early?"

Lev spoke next to her ear, "Early?"

She fixed her gaze on the building, "...what time is it then?"

Lev glanced behind her at the dashboard of his car, "1:45 p.m."

"And you JUST let me out now?!"

His eyelids lowered, resting in their usual devious position. "I was enjoying our closeness, Lynette. Is that so criminal?"

His remarks made her skin crawl. She contained her whimpers. "That's not-you're-" Don't fall for his games. "Can you take me inside and leave me on the time clock or something, please?"

He shut his eyes, still smiling, and nodded. 

Lev exited his car, not changing the way he carried her. "I would never leave you somewhere alone and so helpless, Lynette."

She wanted to say, you're a liar. 

Instead, Lynette said, "I can't get hurt, and it'll be in the pizzeria; I'll be fine."

"Right," Lev lifted her up fast, let go of her shirt, then snatched her up by the ankle. "I don't know why I keep forgetting."

"That doesn't mean you should carry me like this!" 

The dizziness felt like being on a ship bombarded by waves during a storm.

He released a pleased chuckle, "I know how to handle humans. I do it all the time." He stopped at the door, took out his badge with his free hand, and scanned it to open the door. "Though, when handling them, I generally put them elsewhere.~"

Her mind lost its functionality. How could he say things like that?! She didn't want to hear any more; lucky for her, she didn't. 

"LYNETTE!" Their jolly voice reached her. Lev perked up at it too.

"And hey, Lev! It's been a while since I've seen you two!" He said with a cheerful smile. Then he veered his head to one side, "Wait a minute, Lynette, you're smaller than I remember."

"Shrimpy, isn't she?" Lev snickered.

Don't remind me of my other obstacle today.

"I took a shrink potion Claudia made," She said with a sigh, "it's nice to see you again, June." At least he's nice... "Are you staying here late?"

The boy with rounded bottom spectacles grinned, "I'm doing a double shift today! Since Zilla is out. Plus, Edgar wasn't sure if Claudia was coming back today." June saluted, then threw his arms up with excitement, "SO I get to hang out with you!"

She needed the cold water his joy provided after experiencing Lev's heat wave. 

June looked over Lev's shoulder, "HEY, CLAUDIA!"

Lev spun on his heels and stumbled back until he hit the wall.

Lynette assumed Lev wanted sight on both of them.

The suntouched fae ran up to them and huffed, "Aw! I wanted to be around when she used it!" Her multicolored eyes darted around Lynette's body. "Can you hear fine? Be heard fine? I also made it affect a small radius around you this time, so your clothes would get small too."

She didn't even realize that before Sandra had given her a small golden clamp to allow people to hear her voice even at her size.

Lynette felt her throat. I didn't even think of that. 

"I heard every little noise from her just fine.~" Lev said as he tossed Lynette to Claudia. "Thank you again, Claudia. I really enjoyed my little extra time with Lynette." 

Claudia caught me and cradled me in her small hands. Her smile widened, "I'm glad to have tested it." She went to wave to him off and waved the hand with Lynette in it.

"Claudia!"

The innocent-appearing girl brought me to her face, "Yes?"

June patted Claudia's arm, "I don't think she likes the shaking too much."

Lynette's new friend giggled, "Sorry, you're so shakable being this small!" Claudia then lifted Lynette up, "And very edible looking."

"VERY WH-" Lynette pushed at Claudia's fingers, "Please don't get any ideas. You're supposed to be better than them! Friends don't eat friends!"

June's happiness dropped, "what? I eat my friends sometimes, they eat me, and I ate you." His lower lip quivered, "are we...not friends?" He sounded afraid of what she might say. 

"WE ARE FRIENDS! That was different! You didn't eat me against my will!" She stared up at Claudia. Who looked at the next person coming down the hall.

"Drake!" Claudia and June said in unison.

June continued, "And Alexander."

Claudia corrected the slime, "No, no, June, that's Mr. Meanie!"

Alexander's let out a partial growl, "fuck you too." His eyes locked onto Lynette immediately after. "Who's game day is it today, shrimp?"

Lynette laid limply in Claudia's hand. Can't you call me by my name? Her thoughts returned to the harmonic way her name always left Lev's lips. You know, never mind.

"Drake's." She said, "Your day's tomorrow."

Drake bobbed lazily, "Good thing I left my game in the breakroom."

He looks tired. 

June interrupted Drake, "Can I play too?"

Claudia nodded in agreement, "Me too!"

Before Alexander could open his mouth, Lynette filled the silence. "YES."

The muscular male gave her a vexed smirk. "Great." 

She didn't like his tone. And if he doesn't win today...I don't think he'll let anyone else but himself win tomorrow...dang it.

...

Drake

Today it felt harder to hold Lynette in his breast pocket. He felt grateful that she was at least far more antsy today. He couldn't take her being calm. It's mainly why holding her in his pocket bothered him so much.

It wasn't even a crescent moon this evening that was two nights ago. Not that he had been keeping up with his previous diet anyway.

He finally had the chance to set her down and away from himself. He gently lowered her onto the table, and once his fingers let go, there was a bit of relief. 

Not that the relief was totally gone. June was the only other person there with them. 

"You look so super cute small like that, Lynette!" The slime with messy bedhead brown hair said with a gleam. 

Upon reflex, Drake's ears tried to listen to June's nonexistent heart. The lack of heartbeat always threw him off and perturbed him. Is he lying? Teasing her? Or...? Drake peered past his bangs and examined June's loving expression. 

I'm on to you. He thought to himself as if June was some sort of mastermind. 

"Thanks, but I think I look better at my height," Lynette grumbled, taking a seat on the table. 

His ears picked up on her heart's rhythm, her beats were starting to calm, and he could feel himself compelled to get closer. He pushed his eyelids together and got up from his seat. 

The two watched his suddenness; he could tell by their silence. He walked toward the fridge. I need blood. He reminded himself. Though, fresh, warm, human blood sounded far more appealing. I can't bite her.

He still wanted to try. He caught someone sliding beside him while leaning over the open fridge. He peeked over the fridge door. It was Claudia. 

"Whatcha doing?"

Drake momentarily tuned into the peppy beat of her heart. Claudia only displayed it with him and now a bit with Lynette. He didn't question it.

"Getting a drink," he lowered himself and got one out of his lunch box. He decided to grab the case instead and bring it to the table. 

"Does it taste better in the pouch?" Claudia asked.

"No," Drake said as he shut the fridge door behind him. 

"Then why do you drink it from the pouches?"

"Convenience." He tried to move her away from this conversation. "It's not like I have many choices."

Claudia tipped her head back at Lynette and then back to Drake.

Drake lowered his head, "She's small right now, Claudia." He quickly continued, "And I don't want to get too used to one person's blood. That's how vampires become obsessive." Though it has been a while, hasn't it? He shook his head and looked over at Claudia. He could tell she spoke with curiosity. 

His eyes shifted to the door and saw Alexander finally going to lunch break. He's lucky he doesn't remember tastes. He'd never have to deal with that issue. 

"That's really weird," Claudia said. 

Drake gave a slight "ha, ha," like she mocked him. He forgot she was genuinely serious and blunt with her statements. "From what I understand, it used to be a lot harder for our kind to get blood from those outside our species, so our bodies naturally want to take claim over things." 

He found his shoulders rising and pushing his pecs slightly inward. The conversation talking about other vampires started to bother him. It only brought up a sour taste, and the person he wanted dead.

"Did vampires attack each other before?" Claudia walked backward in front of him so she could face him. Drake hated what she said. "It's a lot easier with all the options, huh?"

Drake's naturally and slightly clawed fingers started to sink into the lunch box. Easier. Everything was supposed to come easy to me. His thoughts began to haze. He didn't realize he was still in the break room. And the shape in front of him wasn't Claudia anymore. He felt his fangs sharpen and his body getting ready to lurch at her. 

"HEY, DRAKE, ARE YOU GONNA FUCKING GET YOUR GAME OR WHAT?!" 

Drake's shoulders sank. Claudia didn't notice or was so unassuming that she didn't think Drake would attack her.

He tilted his head over, and his bangs fell from his wine-red eyes. Their light glow was visible to everyone at the table. "It doesn't matter how fast I get the game out—you're gonna lose anyway." 

"I'm gonna make your sorry ass eat those words." Alexander's ruffled and playful frustration created a smile on Drake's face.

He was too embarrassed to ever tell Alexander he found some levity in him. You're still a massive pain in the ass, though. 

Drake refocused on Claudia when she moved closer to his face. She moved to study his eyes closer.  

He jumped and took a few steps back. He adjusted his bangs back to normal. You don't know personal space, do you? He thought to hide his abash. 

He didn't think being close to anyone right now was a good idea. He held out his lunchbox to Claudia. He lowered it down enough for her to grip it correctly. "I'm going to get the game. Can you move this to the table for me?"

She nodded and tapped its zipper before he turned to the kitchen cabinets, "Can I have one?"

Drake squinted at her, "A blood pouch?"

"Yes!"

"No."

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).

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