#time to have this game consume my life for the next few weeks

[glazedyeastring]

I have commenced the process of balding

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Falling in love again (Christen Press x Reader)

Writers block is being a pain at the moment so sorry it's been a while since I posted. I'll be back to trying to write my list of requests in a few weeks when I'm back from holiday. This wasn't requested, just a random idea and probably not very good but I hope you like it!

Warnings: Death of a partner, grief. If you find anything else let me know and I'll add it!

Words: 4.3K

---

Almost two years had passed since I lost my person. The person I thought I would spend my life with, the person I loved more than I thought it was possible to love someone. Life was cruel like that, giving you a person who understood you, who loved you so deeply, only to rip it away in the worst way possible. The day the phone call came, telling me Talia had been in an accident that claimed her life was a blur. Honestly, at times it still felt like a dream. The overwhelming grief, disbelief and fear I felt that day still ever present if I thought back to it. 

I had almost quit soccer for good after that, but I knew she wouldn't want me too. Talia loved watching me play, she knew how much I loved it, always encouraging me and supporting me in everything I did. So I kept going, every game I played, I played for her. The grief had faded since then. It was always there, it always would be, some days were worse than others, but it was bearable. It didn't consume me like it once had.   

One of the things Talia used to love was colouring in my tattoos. Not that I would have admitted it to her, but once we started dating, my new tattoos were purely designed so she could colour them. Our spare time was often spent with her colouring them while I drew or did random stuff. It was something I found myself doing often, especially when I was missing her.

Someone sat down next to me as I slowly coloured in one of the many tattoos scattered over my body. I didn't pay them much attention, continuing colouring, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged, not looking up at Emily, "Colouring."

"Is she colouring in her tattoos again?" Kelley asked sitting across from us.

"Yup, we really need to get her paper or a colouring book."

"Have you ever noticed even when there's paper around she still does it? Look at how comfortable and peaceful she looks. It's like a built in stress relief." I fought the urge to chuckle at how they talked as if I wasn't there. To be fair I was only half listening. 

"Why do you colour in your tattoos?"

I sighed, putting down the pen. The team had been bugging me for months now about it. These were some of the people I trusted most in the world, there was no reason to keep hiding it from them. "It reminds me of my wife. She would sit there for hours colouring in my tattoos while I drew. It became sort of a routine."

"You're married? You don't wear a ring."

I pulled the chain around my neck that held a simple black band and a silver band with a line of diamonds. "Mine and hers," I took a deep breath trying to control my emotions, "She died almost 2 years ago, I only take it off for games."

"God Y/n, I'm so sorry," Ali said, pulling me in for a quick hug.

Alex was the next to pull me into a tight hug, "How come we never knew? We've known you longer then two years?"

"No one knew except our close friends and family. At the time we weren't as close as we are now and I guess I couldn't bring myself to mention it after. We never specifically hid it, just didn't put it out there. She never wanted to the world to know who she was. Never wanted who she was with to impact her kids."

"She had kids?"

"She was a teacher at a school for kids with disabilities. They meant the world to her, she would do anything for them. It was always a worry that her suddenly being known would affect her job in some way."

"It sounds like she was an amazing person. I'm sad we never got to meet her."

"You did, you just never knew who she was to me."

"Talia? I remember you mentioning that she passed away and that's why you took that break," Alyssa asked.

"Yup, we had been married 4 years the day you met her."

"That's why you completely disappeared that day then wouldn't tell us why."

A small smile appeared on my face remembering that day. We had booked a hotel room, ordered way to much room service, gave each other massages, then had a bath and watched movies. It was simple, but one of my favourite nights besides the day we got married, "She had flown in that weekend just so we could celebrate our anniversary. We never spent one apart."

---

Christen sat down on her bed, staring up at me for a second before speaking, "That's why you turn everyone down when they ask you out? Including me."

There had been many people over the years that had asked me on dates, all being turned down for obvious reasons. Christen had been one of them though, about a year after Talia passed. Besides Talia, Christen was the only person I could actually see myself with if I ever got to a point where I felt ready. That wasn't now, but part of me hoped it would happen soon. Despite the guilt and grief that was there, I wanted the chance to be happy again with someone. We had talked about it a few times and neither of us wanted the other to hold on for too long. Talia would want me to be happy, to move on and one day, when the time was right, I would.

I sighed sitting down next to Christen. Sitting or lying on the others bed was a pretty common occurrence when we roomed together. "You know I know she would want me to be happy, but every time I even think about starting to date again, it feels like I'm betraying her. Like if I start something, I'll forget her."

"You'll never forget her. No matter what you're doing or who you're with, she will always be in your heart. She'll always be your person, but you can love someone else while still loving her just as much as you always have. It's not one or the other and if the next person doesn't understand that then they aren't worth the time. There's no rush to move on."

"Thanks Chris. Out of all the people that have asked me out, you're the only one I thought about saying yes to. I'm sorry I wasn't ready."

Christen placed her hand on my knee, squeezing gently. Something that always seemed to make me feel peace. "Don't be. I always knew there was a slim chance of you saying yes and I accepted that. I was just happy that it didn't change our friendship."

"Would you still be open to that date? Not right now, but sometime in the near future."

"Of course I would. There's no rush or pressure though Y/n/n, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. And if you're never ready that's okay too."

--- Today was two years since Talia was taken. Of course it was game day. When I realised the date it was like a weight was sitting on my chest. Christen was still asleep so I slipped quietly into the bathroom to shower and let the tears out. I had originally been thinking about pulling out of the game, but after my shower I was actually feeling okay to play. I was determined to win for her. 

The final whistle blew as I clung onto whoever was closest, my knees trying to give out on me. The rush of emotions I felt was not what I expected. Happiness, relief, grief all rushing through me as I tried to hold it together in front of everyone. Letting my emotions show in front of friends or family was hard enough, I didn't need that happening in front of the fans. 

I managed to hold it together enough to greet the fans before we made our way to the locker room. As I put the necklace back on, I broke. Tears silently streaming down my cheeks before a sob forced it's way out. Instantly, Ali's arms wrapped around me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder. I didn't like crying in front of people, but there was no stopping it. So for once, I just let it out with the comfort of the people I trusted most. 

Once I had calmed down, Ali finally spoke up, "What's going on Y/n/n?"

"I-it's been 2 years sin-since- I'm sorry."

Ali's arms tightened as another hand squeezed mine, "Never apologise for feeling how you feel. You can always feel how you feel with us. We've got you always."

We spent longer in the locker room than we normally would as the girls took turns comforting me and making sure I was okay before we left. After dinner, most of the team ended up in one of the rooms for team bonding. There were quite a few questions about Talia, normally I didn't talk about her much because of the emotions it brings up, but everyone seemed genuinely interested in her.  Also, talking about her was actually quite therapeutic.  

Even though it was therapeutic, talking about Talia still brought up emotions so I had found myself cuddled up with Ali for comfort. I had almost went to Christen for comfort, but the guilt had started to creep in again making me decide against it.

"How old were you when you got married? It must have been quite young," Tierna asked.  

"We were. We started dating at 19, married at 23.  Possibly too young in some peoples opinions, but at the time we just got the idea in our heads and went with it. I proposed and 2 months later we were married. My time with Talia was incredible, it was fun and low maintenance. We met in college when we both didn't have a lot of money, most of our dates in our first few years were picnics, walks or movie nights. 

I mean our first anniversary, we made each other homemade cards. Talia got me marshmallows because I was obsessed with them at the time and I got her chocolate and gummy bears. We ended up at the beach, making smores before going back to my apartment and making pasta for dinner. To this day that was probably one one of my favourites. Talia never cared about fancy or expensive things, that never changed the further I got in my professional career or as our money situation changed. She was just happy if we were together."

I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't help myself. Talking about Talia before I lost her was one of my favourite things. The girls didn't seem to mind though as everyone's attention seemed to be completely on me. "She sounds like she was an incredible person."

"She was. I think she would have gotten along with all of you. Especially Emily and Kelley. Talia loved pranks and just being annoying. She wrapped up a carrot and gave it to me more than once, she would pull little pranks all the time or poke and prod at me constantly."

Later that night, Christen got my attention as I slipped into my bed, "Hey, you doing okay? I know today was hard."

"It was, but I'm feeling okay right now. I think talking about her helped. I've never really let myself because of the emotions it brings up. Turns out it's quite freeing to talk about her."

"The team would agree, it was nice to hear about her. I can see how much you love her."

"It's uh not weird for you is it?"

"No. Y/n, she was your wife, you love her, you always will. I know that. If we were to eventually get to a point past friendship, I would never expect anything else. You can talk to me about her whenever you want and I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Thank you Chris. I don't want you to think I'm leading you on or anything. I have every intention of asking you on a date, I just need a bit of time."

"Hey, I don't think that at all. Like I said, there is no rush, there's no expectations."

---

It had been about six months since mine and Christen's initial conversation. I was finally feeling like I was ready to try dating again, all I had to do was ask. It had taken longer than I thought it would and a part of me was thinking that Christen would have lost interest by now or just didn't want to deal with my past. A part of me was tempted to not ask, to save myself from rejection, but I also knew there was no way to know unless I asked. 

"So."

"So?"

I took a deep breath, trying to clear some of the nerves that had been building. I had never asked one out let alone dated anyone else besides Talia. Christen sent me a small smile, the nerves melting away when I saw the adoration in her eyes. "Will you go on a date with me Chris?"

"You're ready for that?"

"I think so, I've been thinking about it a lot recently. It's just this is something I haven't done with anyone besides Talia so I might not be perfect or even close to it, but I'll try."

"I would love to Y/n. Just tell me if we go on this date and you realise you're not ready. I'll understand. You also don't have to be perfect, we'll figure this out as we go okay?"

"Thank you Chris. I'll pick you up at 6?"

"We're sharing a room."

"I'm going to get ready in Ali and Alex's room, that way I can pick you up."

"And they say chivalry is dead." 

---

Trying to plan a date was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn't even know where to start. Of course I had been on many dates with Talia, but that was different. It had been 10 or so years since my first and only first date. I knew Talia like the back of my hand, I knew what she liked, where she liked to go. Christen on the other hand, I knew her, but to a far lesser extent which was making me overthink. What if she didn't like what I planned? What if I did too much or not enough? 

Before I could continue to spiral, I decided to enlist the help of Tobin. Normally I would go to Ali, but Tobin was Christens bestfriend. 

"You okay Y/n?"

"No. Well yes but also no. Christen and I are going on a date tonight and I'm freaking out. I cannot for the life of me decide what to do. Every time something comes to mind, I convince myself that it's not enough. Chris will be the second person I've ever taken on a date, it needs to be perfect."

Tobin led me to sit on the bed as I had started to pace across the room. "Don't tell her I told you, but Chris doesn't care what you do, she's just happy to go out with you. Tell me your ideas?"

"I know she likes parks or gardens, beaches, picnics, museums, that sort of thing. There's not a beach around otherwise I would take her there and it'll be too late to take her to the museum but I found a nice park the other day. It has a lake and there were heaps of like lights and stuff. Was thinking picking up some takeaway and other bits to have a picnic at the park, but it doesn't seem like enough."

"Y/n, that is perfect. I know this is pretty much completely new to you, but you just need to try relax a little bit. You know Chris, she's your friend, you know what she likes. She's going to love a picnic in the park, maybe a walk around after."

"Thank you Tobs."

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Chris is going into this knowing there's a chance you realise you're not ready and she'll understand that, everyone will. There'll be no hard feelings or anything. Just if that happens, please tell her sooner rather than later. I know you won't do it on purpose, but I don't want her to get her hopes up."

"I will. This wasn't a decision I made lightly, I feel ready and I'm really hoping I am. I admit, it does feel a bit weird, but I really like her Tobin. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

Tobin smiled slightly, pulling me into a quick hug, "I know and so does Chris. Just take it one step at a time, you don't need to rush anything or do anything that doesn't feel right."

After one last hug I made my way to the door, "Thanks Tobs, I should go get ready before I make myself late."

Before heading back to my room, I ran down to the shop to get a few things. Picking out what to buy took longer than it should have. Everything I thought about buying, I ended up second guessing if Christen actually liked it. Time was running out though so I ended up picking out some wine I thought she liked and some other picnic type things.

Despite almost making myself late, I knocked on the door at exactly 6 pm, trying my best to push down the nerves. Tobin was right, Christen was my friend, I knew she didn't expect or even really like some fancy date. There was no real reason to be this nervous. Part of it was probably because of how new it was, part of me was second guessing if I was truly ready for this, but I think that was due to nerves and not wanting to hurt Christen. Another part was because it was Christen. Gorgeous, kind, thoughtful Christen. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous to be going on a date with her. 

"Hi Y/n/n."

"Hi."

Christen smiled, kissing my cheek softly, "You okay?" 

"A bit nervous, but I'm okay. You ready to go?"

We made our way out of the hotel, stopping to pick up takeaway before starting the ten minute walk to the park. Christen didn't ask about what we were doing, instead making random conversation. Knowing I was nervous, I had a feeling she was doing it on purpose to try calm me down. It was definitely working, my nerves were fading away the longer we talked and I wasn't thinking so much about if it was enough. Instead, I was letting myself be excited about it. 

When we got to the park, Christens eyes lit up as she looked around. I found a nice spot by the lake, spreading everything out on the blanket as Christen got comfortable. "How'd you find this place? It's beautiful."

"I stumbled upon it when I went for a walk the other night."

"You went for a walk, alone at night?"

"Maybe not my best idea, but I needed to clear my head away from our room, away from the hotel."

Concern covered Christens face as she straightened slightly, "Away from our room? Was I doing something wrong?"

"No, no you didn't do anything. I was trying to figure out if I asked you out or not. I guess I was worried that I had left it too long and maybe you weren't interested anymore. I also felt a bit guilty, making you wait so long. It seems unfair to you. Got in my head about it I guess. If you can't tell, I'm a bit of an overthinker sometimes."

"Well I'm glad you did. This wasn't unfair to me, I promise. You were honest about everything Y/n, you didn't give me false hope or lie to me. That was all I could ask of you. Are you feeling okay about this?"

"I am. Honestly, it feels a little bit weird which maybe you don't want to hear, but I'm really having a good time."

Christen smiled, taking my hand gently, "Look, I don't get how it feels, but I will never dismiss anything you're feeling. You can always talk to me about it. It's okay for it to feel weird because it probably is for you, I don't take offence to that."

"Thank you. Now lets eat before it gets cold."

We spent the next couple of hours talking about anything we could think of. There had never been anyone but Talia that I could talk to so comfortably without running out of things to talk about. That was until Christen came along. Long before there were any feelings, there had always been something about her that made me feel comfortable talking to her about things. Now I craved the conversations I could have with her. I wanted to get to know her more, from the mundane to the personal. 

Conversation continued as we walked around the park hand in hand then back to the hotel when it started to get late. The nerves had long faded by now, instead being replaced by giddiness and maybe butterflies. Going on a date with Christen felt right. Despite the lingering guilt, I knew Talia would approve. I knew that out of anyone to move on with she would have chosen Christen for me. That in itself brought a sense of peace. 

---

Christen slipped under the blankets on her bed, pulling me down with her. I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, mumbling something about wanting cuddles. Pulling her closer, I left a soft kiss against her forehead before speaking. "You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?" 

Christen just nodded. We had just got back from our fifth date in two weeks. They could have been spaced out since we lived in the same city, but I felt like a smitten teenager again. Instead of the nerves that plagued me for our first date, I was excited about the dates. Maybe to some it was too many too quick, but I didn't care and Christen didn't seem to either.

Despite the amount of dates we had been on, we were planning on taking things slow. It was my idea to take it slow as this was something I hadn't done in a long time. We had kissed for the first time at the end of the last one, but even though we were rooming together, we hadn't slept in the same bed yet.

"That can be arranged, but I need to get changed and brush my teeth." She groaned dramatically, but let me go with a pout. After completing my nightly routine, I took my necklace off, putting it next to the bed. It felt unfair to Christen to be sleeping in the same bed as her while still wearing my wife's ring.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking it off."

"Because you want to or because you feel you have to?" I just shrugged, Christen stood up, grabbing the necklace and putting it back around my neck before her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. "I will never make you take this off. I never want you to feel like you have to for me okay? You will always love her and that's okay. It doesn't mean you can't have that love for someone else as well."

I nodded leaning back into her. One of my biggest fears with dating someone new was that they wouldn't understand or get mad at the fact that I will always be in love with someone else. That person just happened to not be here anymore. It was scary that I already felt myself falling for Christen, she was just such a beautiful person, inside and out. I don't think I could stop myself from falling even if I wanted to.

---

Christen and I were lying on my bed as the movie credits started to play. We were supposed to go out, but I wasn't feeling up to it. Talia's birthday was in a few days and I had been thinking about her a lot. No matter how much time passed, I still missed her just as much. I was feeling somewhat guilty about the new realisation that I was in love with Christen, like I was being unfaithful to Talia. I felt guilty a lot when Christen and I first started dating. It had mostly faded over the 6 months we had been together, though it always got worse near dates to do with Talia. I just had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing to feel guilty about and that she would be happy for me.

"I hope she's proud of me," I stated quietly, mostly to myself.

Christen turned her head slightly, "Maybe I didn't know her very well, but I know she is. You've come so far in your life and career. You are an amazing person, anyone would be proud of you."

"Sometimes I wish I could have one last conversation with her. See what she thinks of my life, where I am, who I'm with. I still talk to her sometimes, almost expecting a response, but of course it'll never come."

Her fingers laced with mine, squeezing slightly, "I'm sure she's listening and she's happy that you're living the life you want. That's what the people who love us should want for us."

I rolled over so I could look at her properly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, "Have I ever thanked you? For letting me talk about her, for understanding that me loving her doesn't take away from what I feel for you, for always being there for me on days like our anniversary, or her birthday or the anniversary of her death. It's something I am forever grateful for Chris."

"I will always do all of those things, you don't ever need to thank me. I love you Y/n, I'll always be there for you no matter what."

"Y-you love me?"

"I do. You don't have to say it back, I just wanted you to know."

I kissed her softly, trying to show everything I was feeling, "I love you Chris."

[yaut-jaknowit]

How about high tension between a male yautja and human. Where one gets drunk and finally yells that they want to fuck them already.

Tensions Run High

Pairing: Icheall-Dua (male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2555

Summary: It was at a gathering for Yautjas and humans alike on a different planet than Yautja Prime. You had been constantly trying to hit up Icheall-Dua and he couldn’t get the idea! So, one night, during a feast of celebration that Icheall-Dua was going to become leader of the clan, you get drunk. A very bad thing. You have loose lips. When you tried again with Icheall-Dua and he doesn’t get it again, you straight up yell it in front of the clan.  

Author Note: I realized this has taken me two months to get to. Sorry that production has slowed down. I've been grinding away at my game. Also, I didn't know if you wanted spicy or not, so I decided to leave it out just encase. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Sonorous voices that boomed across the clearing filled the air. Joyous in nature. Prideful for the years to come. Every rise and fall of the suns to bring a life and challenges to the clan. You held up a cup of a drink that was considered alcohol. Between a Yautja and human mixture of potent alcohol, deluded for yourself.

It reminded you of whiskey with the slight burn with each sip you took. A drink not meant for shots. Rather just to take sips here and there. It’ll still knock you on your ass three drinks later. So, you took your time to consume the interesting taste of the smokey concoction.

Despite living among the predators of the universe and showing we are equals rather than enemies, the two species have come together. Some clans as you’ve heard are more reluctant, or rather downright say no, to allowing humans into their ranks.

Others, like the one you live in, are more accepting if you pull your own. You will not be babied. If you die, you die. A kill or be killed world on this planet. This isn’t even Yautja Prime. Yet, its dangers rival Yautja Prime.

You breathed in the marshes stagnant air. Though the division is still evident; Yautjas with Yautjas and humans with humans, you couldn’t help but find yourself drawn to Icheall-Dua. Marsh green and cream bellied. His scales are basic compared to those you’ve seen throughout your time through a few clans.

What Icheall-Dua lacks in different physical aspects, he makes up in his skills. From the words whispered amongst the clan, he’s a prodigy. He’s the next best thing. A male anyone would kill to be but could never get to his level. Yet, no matter how many times you try to send the right signals in Icheall-Dua’s direction, he doesn’t see it! The skulls, the meat, the Yautja way of courting!

Weeks of research were put into this before you attempted the first time. It should’ve been clear as a peacock spreading its tail feathers. No though. He accepted the gifts but never said anything after that.

At first, you drew back to ensure what you read was correct. Skulls of creatures are the first step. You did just that. Yeah, it wasn’t the dangerous creature on this planet but it nearly killed you! His obliviousness didn’t deter you though. You took a slow sip of your drink again, eyes sliding over to the beast that filled your thoughts.

A large cup filled with a similar concoction to your own was cupped in one of his large hands. Two of three fingers missing on that hand. You knew there was harrowing story to explain what happened. A story you would love to listen to with his deep, grating voice. The sound crunchy like stepping on a gravel road. Another sip downed the rest of the liquid.

With a sigh, you stepped around the larger species that filled the space to the bar tender. A night like this was to be celebrated with alcohol always being included.

After living around these guys for a quarter of your life time, you have learned it’s best to slip between them. Some will shift their weight allow you easier access around them. Yet, many have the mindset not to move for anything. You’ve learned to be slippery rather than it becoming a dick measuring contest. Not submission but avoiding unnecessary fighting. Why get wounded if it all could be avoided? Somethings in this culture you’ll never come to understand.

Once you reached the bar tender again, you set your empty glass on the counter and tapped twice. Ci’tha grunted and immediately got to work. Your drink was set in front of you with a tangy tasting fruit on the rim. You thanked the yellow based Yautja with a dip of your head then leaned against the count with your back to it. People watching.

Other humans were amongst the crowd, mingling with mainly other humans. Only a select few were chatting away with the friendlier Yautjas in the clan. None of them dared to go close to Icheall-Dua nor his father who had a permanent scowl etched into his worn features. A life lived through the ways of a Yautja of hunting and gaining scars along the way.

Icheall-Dua went to sip at his cup only to find it empty and shook his cup. You instantly noticed and spun around to face Ci’tha. “Do you remember what Icheall-Dua is having?” you rushed out and jerked your head over towards Icheall-Dua direction. The poor yellow Yautja jolted at the sudden move then glared at you. You sheepishly smiled an apology at him.

Ci’tha rolled his eyes and nodded. “Yeah, I do. Why?” he grunted and raised a brow at you.

“Can you make it? Yautja sized?” you sweetly asked the lanky Yautja who stood in your way of impressing Icheall-Dua some more. Though, the two of you didn’t talk on the regular, he could see what was happening. He rolled his blue eyes again before got to work.

The large mug was set before you. You threw a thanks towards Ci’tha before snatching it racing through the sea of bodies. At points, you nearly shoved your way through but reframed from starting a fight. All you had was a mug and a small knife not long enough to hit anything important on a Yautja.

After breeching the main crowd of people, you were able to make your way up to Icheall-Dua standing in all of his glory. His father only a couple of steps away from him, speaking to another Yautja. Icheall-Dua, himself, was crowd watching until you stopped before him.

“Hello… I saw your cup was empty and retrieved one for you,” you spoke up and presented the cup to him. His sky blue eyes looked down upon over the jut of his small snout. Icheall-Dua blinked slowly in boredom, gaze glancing to the cup in your hand.

He reached out and took it. A critical eye peered and inspected the contents. You gnawed on your bottom lip, in hopes he would accept the drink but nothing else was working. Maybe a drink would win him over.

The Yautja raised his shoulders in a shrug and gulped from the cup. You silently cheered to yourself, praying this was him finally noticing your advances towards him.

Next to him, Zutouh, his father, leaned over and scoffed at you. It didn’t deter you though. Through his one good eye, he analyzed you. Not all Yautjas still accept humans into their ranks. The older generations such as Zutouh are part of that. You’re used to it at this point, even dealing with clans who would kill you on sight.

“Great party,” you tried to start small talk in hopes to get Icheall-Dua to open up a little more. “What’s it for?” A closed mouth smile was directed towards Icheall-Dua.

Icheall-Dua kept his nonchalant expression plastered to his face. “I’m becoming the clan leader,” he stated as if it was an everyday thing. You tensed up mid sip of your drink, eyes darting over to his marsh green hide.

Well yeah. Zutouh is his father and the clan leader. Yet, each Yautja usually has a bunch of children. You didn’t know Icheall-Dua was next in line to ascend the throne. By Paya’s grace, you truly didn’t stand a chance against any of the females who would flock to him. Clan leader got you lots of perks. A title Icheall-Dua had to have earned out of all of his siblings.

“That’s amazing! Are you excited?” you kept up with the small talk, using questions to get answers from him. You gulped down a mouthful of your drink again as it started to affect your mind and rational thinking. “Of course, a male such as yourself with that physique definitely deserves that position.”

Drunk words were sober thoughts.

Alcohol gave you loose lips.

Zutouh snorted and shook his massive head in disbelief. You didn’t care though. What you said was true. Icheall-Dua was built well, the prodigy everyone saw him as.

One of his upper manibles quirked up for less than a second yet you caught it. “This is my destiny.” His answer short, barely even sweet. You nearly deflated at that but an idea came to him.

“Well, does your destiny have me included in it?” you flirted with him again like all the times before. You hoped he would finally get the big picture you were waving in front of him.

This caught Icheall-Dua off guard. The Yautja nearly choked on his drink you graciously provided for him and snapped his gaze to you. Hope flickered in your eyes as you noticed you had more of his attention on you. His hand tightened on his cup, claws slightly scraping across the glass wear.

Except, it all faded away when he pulled back that nonchalant expression and shrugged again. You could almost scream at him for that. Your nose flared with a snort, lips pressed tightly into a line. The alcohol in your system not helping one bit. A near glare was settled on the stupid marsh colored Yautja who you’ve pinned for the last few months.

Like a volcano, there’s only so much you could hold in.

“For the love of everything unholy, I want to fuck you!” you shouted at the top of your lungs, fire blazing in your veins while you stared this male down. “I’ve been trying for months the Yautja way to get your attention. And-and nothing! You hadn’t acknowledge my attempts or even told me to stop! I don’t know what I can do anymore.”

It all came out. Ranitng out your horrible experience trying to court a Yautja their way. All this research was false, wrong. It led you on for months and left you to feel this angry… in front of a crowd.

Your shoulders heaved with each lungful breath. The crowd around you had gone silence due to your shouting. The realization struck you, dosing you in freezing cold water. Your shoulders tensed up, eyes wide, glued to the spot. Nothing could make you move until Icheall-Dua took a step towards you.

Then, you spun on your tail and darted between humans and Yautja alike, a stumbling, drunk mess. They didn’t part for you, even when you ran into them but when a shadow gave chase, they instantly let him through. Your arm was snatched in a vice grip that would bruise tomorrow. Heat slammed into your chest, forcing you to pressed to his torso. Tears pooled the lips of your eyes as you looked everywhere but him. You couldn’t see the rage of you interrupting his celebration, of you ruining the night with this silly crush.

Your entire jaw was swallowed up by a hand and forcefully tilted your head back. Through blurry tears, you find his blue eyes on you.

“Say that again,” he demanded with a voice he used to lead. You tried to struggle against him, nearly turning your head enough to bite his fingers. Nothing worked to get him off of you. Icheall-Dua easily far stronger in close quarters… yet, you didn’t want to hurt him anyhow.

“Why? So you can embarrass me in front of everyone. Show everyone how much of a fool I was? To think I had a chance with you?” you snarled then paused for a pregnant moment. He squeezed his hand tighter on your jaw in a short warning. Icheall-Dua wasn’t one to be around humans often, he didn’t understand their fragileness. “Should’ve brushed me off the first time I gifted you a skull.”

None of this would be happening if he had.

“And why would I do that? I was following the advice given to me by your fellow humans for your courting rituals.” If he didn’t have such a tight grip, you would’ve jerked your head back. Instead, you raised your brows instead.

He was following dating advice… What had they told him? Also, dating?! Your heart started to thump loudly in your ears, like war drums. He had gone out of his way to ask for advice.

A lump in your throat made it hard to speak. “What, what was the advice?” you questioned and untensed your muscles. The Yautja responded by easing up his grasp on your jaw and wrist. Icheall-Dua didn’t let you go fully though. Not that you could outrun a Yautja in the first place.

His gaze deviated over to a group of humans who were staring the two of you down. Everyone part of the party was. “Samual said to ‘play hard to get’. It get’s people needy.” Oh, you were going to kill Samual when you had the chance. All these months of torture because that dumbass told him horrible advice.

You couldn’t help the breath of relief that escaped your lungs. Then, you began to laugh and shook in his hold. “That’s the worst advice anyone could give you. No, ‘playing hard to get’ is the worst way to show someone you’re into them.” Your laughter died down. “And I thought my research was a fraud when you didn’t react to any of the gifts I gave you.”

Icheall-Dua growled lowly in his chest and spread his mandibles in a display towards the humans. The group jolted and instantly scrambled away to be hidden away in the crowd. With them gone, he returned his attention back on you. “You did well and everything right. I apologize I wasn’t properly conveying my feelings towards you. Will you forgive me?”

All that tension in your shoulders you’ve been holding for months finally fell off. “Yes, yes. I forgive you and whatever stupid advice Samual gave you. I would say to do research but… that has also bad information as well.” His hand on your wrist released you to cup your waist. Goosebumps immediately rose on your arms. A tingle running down your spine.

“And what were you saying early? If my memory serves correct: you want to fuck me?” Oh god, he just had to bring that up! Heat instantly rushed your cheeks.

“That’s-that’s just the alcohol talking. I’m drunk. Had some drinks… I don’t know what you mean,” you did everything in your power to get him off of that.

“Daring little thing,” he mused and ran his thumb claw across your lips. Just a little more pressure and he could slice the feeble skin apart. “Taking more than they can chew.” You knew you had chosen right. He was still going to fuck with you though.

He leaned down so only the next words were spoken directly at you. “Once this party ends, would you like to start the night back in my tent?” he whispered. Your brain blanked. Not a single thought entered your mind for a long, unknown amount of time.

When some of the fog cleared, you rapidly nodded your head, eager. “My naughty little ooman.” He returned to his full towering height and offered his hand to you. “Come along, I know of seat you wouldn’t want to leave.”

Curses filled your head, the only thing to make sense in your fray of mental words to yourself. The things you could do to him.

[astars-things]

"You promised..." with nico and Hischier daughter!Reader. The reader just wants to spend time with her dad and nico had promised that they'd have a game night but the guys ask him to come out for a drink. She comes downstairs with all of the board games and nico is ready to leave to hangout with the guys.

nico Hischier x daughter!Reader.

"You promised..." I whispered, clutching the stack of board games to my chest. My voice trembled, barely audible over the sounds of Dad rushing about in the hallway. He paused, hand frozen on the doorknob, and turned to face me. His eyes, usually warm and full of life, looked pained and conflicted.

"Y/N," he began, running a hand through his messy hair. "I know I did, but—"

"But the guys," I interrupted, a hint of bitterness seeping into my tone. "I know. You always say that."

Dad sighed, glancing down at his watch. "It's just one drink. I'll be back before you know it. We can still play when I get home."

I stared at the stack of games in my arms—Monopoly, Clue, Candy Land, and our favorite, Settlers of Catan. Each one held memories of laughter and bonding, of rare moments when it was just the two of us. Dad was always so busy, his time consumed by practices, games, and events. Nights like this, where he promised to be all mine, were precious.

"You always say that too," I muttered, more to myself than to him. But he heard it, and I saw the guilt flash across his face.

He took a step towards me, his eyes softening. "Y/N, I love spending time with you. You know that, right? It's just... the team, they rely on me too."

I bit my lip, fighting back the sting of tears. "I rely on you, Dad. You promised tonight would be our night."

He glanced at his phone, which buzzed insistently in his pocket. "I know, sweetheart. How about this—I'll text the guys, tell them I'll be late. We'll play one game, and then I'll go. Deal?"

It wasn't what I wanted, but it was better than nothing. I nodded reluctantly, setting the games down on the coffee table. "One game. But you have to let me win."

Dad laughed, a genuine, warm sound that made my heart ache a little less. "Deal," he agreed, ruffling my hair as he passed by to grab a soda from the kitchen.

We settled on the floor, the living room cozy with the soft glow of the lamps. I chose Settlers of Catan, setting up the board while Dad read through the rules, pretending like he didn't already know them by heart. It was our routine, a small ritual that made the game feel special every time.

As we played, I could see the tension slowly leaving Dad's shoulders. His phone buzzed a few times, but he ignored it, focusing entirely on the game. For those brief moments, it was like nothing else existed but the two of us and the colorful hexagons on the board.

I managed to secure a victory, Dad playfully accusing me of cheating as he handed over the win. We laughed, the room echoing with our shared joy. It was perfect, just like I’d hoped.

But then reality intruded. His phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. He glanced at the screen and sighed, the weight of responsibility settling back onto his shoulders.

"I have to go now, Y/N," he said, standing up and stretching. "But that was fun. We'll do it again soon, I promise."

I forced a smile, nodding even though I knew soon might be weeks away. "Okay, Dad. Have fun."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to the top of my head. "Love you, kiddo. I'll be back before you know it."

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him. The living room felt emptier without him, the board games scattered on the table like forgotten promises. I sighed, gathering up the pieces and putting them away.

I knew Dad loved me, that he tried his best to balance everything. But sometimes, I wished his promises were more than just words. Sometimes, I wished I didn't have to share him with the rest of the world.

As I climbed the stairs to my room, I made a promise to myself: next time, I wouldn't let him leave so easily. Next time, I’d make sure our night together was too important to break.

part 2-> here

[spadesolace]

the idea of yoo - 0.6. what do you like about jimin? (half-written)

previous | next

in 2 weeks time, you’ve gathered information about karina that it feels like you could write a biography for her. at the same time, you’ve been talking to her about everything and nothing. although this has consumed your time to the point that ms. choi, your english teacher had to check up on you only to find out about your other business. to say the least, she was not pleased.

here you are, putting your bike onto yeonjun’s truck that was parked in front of the yoo household. first thing he could think of was food, you couldn’t blame him, he grew up with a tteokbokki shop.

“not now.”

“come on, we gotta eat at some point.” you were a bit irritated by it, abruptly about to leave only for him to come clean and discuss music theory along with art appreciation. clearly, he has been doing his assignment.

“well, you are quite serious about this.” yeonjun was fidgeting with his hands on the steering wheel, a habit you’ve noticed whenever he was nervous.

“yeah, but for real. can we eat dinner?”

“... fine.” yeonjun continues fidgeting with his hands as he looked at you with a hint of uncertainty.

“can we eat at your place? my siblings are causing a bit of ruckus at home right now…?”

“you know what, sure.”

that’s how you ended up with yeonjun cooking dinner for you and your sister, rei. trying his cooking which surprisingly ended up with you enjoying it despite calling it weird. the first time in a while you tried something new…

yeonjun was such a chaotic force in your life, having peace and order in your system only for him to come crashing and making it more exciting. teaching him how to maintain a conversation by table tennis, helping him get more information regarding yoo jimin, and simply also conversing with jimin in hopes of learning something new.

it was the week of the next date, the date that determines it all. sitting on the basement of their restaurant where bean bags and a mini fridge is placed. the sound of ping pong balls hitting back and forth could be heard.

“let’s practice this one more time.” starting the game, hitting precisely for him to hit it back. “where were you born?”

“here, in kwangya.” precisely hitting it back, making its way back to you.

“good. what do you like about kwangya?”

“i grew up here, haven’t left since i was born.”

“… yeah.”

“how about you?” a sudden curveball, one that almost made you miss it. it’s not a bad thing, but only a few would ask about you.

“what about me?” what is it about you?

“it felt as if the conversation is too short.” why can’t you open up?

“i don’t need practice.” sort of a lie, you simply didn’t want to talk about yourself.

“come on, just tell me about yourself.” a little bit won’t hurt, right?

“i was born in tokushima, japan. i have a younger sister named rei, and we’ve been living in kwangya ever since she was born.”

“what about your parents?” that’s a can of worms that even you can’t seem to open up.

“well, my dad works in japan. funny, talkative, and protective.”

“your mom?”

“lovely, caring… buried six feet under.”

he misses the ball, the game ends there and so does the conversation.

as everything dies down, your thoughts, drinking a bottle of yakult as you sit down on the beanbag and look at the scattered ping pong balls. yeonjun in his own world, you start to wonder.

“yeonjun?”

“hm?”

“what do you like about jimin?” silence, yeonjun looks you in the eyes and think of what to say. what’s there to even say when he had told you before what he likes about jimin.

“well, she’s pretty and smart. and she’s not mean to anyone and she smells like fresh daisies whenever you would walk by her, why?” a part of you wasn’t satisfied, as if something isn’t right.

“just wondering…”

“how about you?”

taglist [CLOSED]:

@1luvkarina @beawolfbealionbeyou @pandafuriosa60 @txtbrainrot @rinapomu @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @noascats @thefckghost @petruchiosstuff

[brujawrites]

✧ ˚ · . 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 — 

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: "𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟𝐟, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞," | masterlist | next chapter

contains: suguru x female reader, shoko ieri, college au, modern setting, college!suguru, english major!suguru, pining, slow burn, inspired by lana del rey lyrics, 18+ ONLY MDNI

synopsis: meet reader! see how suguru and reader's paths have crossed before and why we're especially excited to see him in class this final semester. chapter 1 of a series so there's alot of background being set up!! ao3 - kofi - playlist - pinterest

"sometimes I feel like i've got a war in my mind, I wanna get off but I keep riding the ride, I never really noticed that I had to decide to play someone's game, or live my own life -- and now I do. I wanna move out of the black, into the blue,"

— "Get Free", Lana Del Rey

Suguru Geto was so cool to you. He just exudes an air of captivating mystery, a quality that draws you in. You found a reflection of yourself in him — the curious, introspective soul that found joy in dissecting and analyzing literature and movies for the sheer pleasure of finding a deeper meaning in art. This was a stark contrast to the persona you currently inhabited. Ever since you got everything you thought you wanted by joining the sorority, there’s this “hot girl” facade you’ve been keeping up. You had to, at least you tell yourself that. Being Vice President of the sorority, the hair and nail appointments every couple weeks, the packed schedule every single week, consumed by obligations at work, for the sorority, date functions, or mixers with fraternities — it was everything you thought you wanted. 

The past two years had been hard in an unconventional way. You were suddenly best friends with over 60 girls, learning about what it meant to be a ‘sister’, navigating your academic life, new found social life, & trying to not fail miserably. 

Meeting Suguru in Spanish class two years ago may have actually been around the time things started to get overwhelming. The sight of him walking into the bustling lecture hall remains etched in your memory. His raven black hair gracefully framed his cheekbones, a striking contrast to his fatigued expression. He calmly looked around the room for a potential seat when his gaze suddenly met yours, his velvety dark eyes sending what felt like a jolt of electricity through you. Immediately, you looked away, intimidated by such abrupt intimacy. As the moment drifted away, you couldn’t help but steal more glances, mesmerized by the effortless allure of his hair half-tied, and admiring the contrast between his hair and the crisp white of his band tee. Your hungry eyes lingered on the sight of his strong, lightly tanned forearm, the muscles flexing as he set his bag on the ground in front of his feet. 

A small smirk played on your lips as the facts informed the fiction, aligning your romanticized narrative with reality — you liked him. You wanted him… right? It seemed like a recurring pattern, a new infatuation added to your roster each semester, you were starting to hate how your mind went to those places when looking at complete strangers. He settled into his seat a few rows ahead, to your right. The rest of the hour-long class went by as your attention wavered from the professor's lecture to the constant pings of the pledge class' group chat on your laptop, all while thoughts of this enigmatic boy swirled through your mind. What was it about him? Obviously, his looks played a role — he was undeniably attractive! But there was an unspoken allure about him that resonated with you. Something remarkably genuine.

He was attractive, but not like the frat boys you had started to learn — those confident, almost arrogantly charming boys supported by the rowdy group of self identified brothers. Suguru stood apart in that way, his demeanor stoic, shrouded in enigma. You, on the other hand, were no different than those frat boys. Donning your Greek letters, surrounded by sisters at parties or on campus, you exuded a confidence that was empowering. But when you’re all alone, face to face with a cute guy, maintaining prolonged eye contact feels like you’re in over your head. 

A twinge of disappointment grew inside you as the realization set in; you haven’t changed. You hadn’t felt the profound shift you had envisioned when justifying your sorority membership to friends back home. College was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to compensate for feeling like a loser in high school. Encountering someone like Suguru served to remind your of your discomfort within your own skin, in your clothes. Despite this, you pressed on, going through the motions because you thought that was what would make you happy. You thought it was what you wanted. 

That concern quickly snowballed into a full-fledged personal identity crisis, intensifying by the time you were twenty-one. Everyone your age experienced that overwhelming anxiety about the trajectory life seemed to be going in, right? You were pretty aware that these insecurities stemmed from your less than wonderful experiences in grade school. The desire to be accepted, to belong, felt deceptively straightforward but in reality, it was complex. Seeking validation through association of status started to overshadow authentic connections, a realization that took two years to hit. Stepping down from the exhaustive responsibilities of the exec board of your sorority, a position that took way too much time and stress, you now craved a final semester dedicated to your genuine pleasure. No more putting on a facade, no more living for appearances. 

So, when you trudged through the cold, grey January air to your senior seminar to find three or four other students, you immediately slipped into your unnatural facade, feigning interest in your phone screen instead of others around you that actually held your interest. So much for not living up to appearances, you thought silently to yourself when he walked in. 

Suguru Geto. The name alone sent a jolt through you, so seeing him walk into the room sent a surge of excitement swiftly followed by a pang of panic. Today, he looked impeccable. His hair effortlessly framing his features, a brown flannel that accentuated out the deep hues in his eyes, paired with a white crewneck & off-white khakis. Simple, but something about it brought on a flush of warmth over your body. As he moved closer to your side of the classroom, the facade threatened to crumble. Buried in your phone, pretending to text your roommate, Utahime, just trying to avoid the prospect of awkward eye contact or embarrass yourself by speaking to him. 

Your attention is lifted from the screen when the desk in front of you starts to shift. Suguru stood before you, unfastening his backpack, meeting your gaze. You silently hoped your flushed cheeks weren’t betraying your emotions as you offered the boy a friendly grin. After all, the two of you knew each other. A soft smile grew on his lips before he turned away, settling into his seat before class.

Yeah, you think to yourself, recalling that you and Suguru had crossed paths before, that it wasn't a fantasy you made up. Last Spring you took that boring poetry theory class together. That professor was super strict & everyone in the class realized it at the same time when he revealed the daunting project: reconstructing a Wikipedia page for an ancient poem. You got a B for the midterm, Suguru got a D and was shocked to see your grade so much higher than his. “Everyone got a super low score,” you remember him rationalizing, a touch of defeat in his tone. There was nothing you could really say back to him thanks to the slight intimidation that comes from talking to someone so effortlessly cool. Handsome, even. 

“Yeah, I’m not entirely sure how I managed that score either. I didn’t really know what I was doing.” You admitted, not intending to mislead, but also recognizing you had no actual insight to give.

“I’m gonna call Shoko and see what she got. See ya later,” he waved before strolling over to the bike rack, phone already at his ear with Shoko on the dial. You tentatively wave back, feeling a peculiar sensation settling in your stomach. You noticed Shoko and Suguru in class together, but they’re dynamic never struck you as particularly flirtatious. They were definitely close though. It was funny for you to think back to the immense crush you had on him the spring semester one year before, only for fall semester to roll by — out of sight, out of mind. And then, there you were a year later.

The digital clock on the wall hit 9:30 right as the professor entered, exchanging morning greetings before setting up the projector. The first class of your last semester is starting now, causing a subtle flutter in your stomach. It was surreal that just four years ago you got lost in this exact building during orientation week. You had experienced a myriad of changes within yourself since starting university. Why did you feel such shame about it? Because it’s not you, you quietly reasoned to yourself. As Suguru adjusted in his seat in front of you, his hair and big shoulders encroaching on your desk space, the subtle whiff of his black-cherry scented cologne served as a gentle reminder of your conundrum. 

Okay, so you’re into him.

This time, you silently told yourself, you’re actually going to do more to get to know him. Usually, your interest in men gravitates towards fraternity-affiliated boys, but after two years of mingling with them, nothing felt truly authentic, worthwhile, or genuine. Reflecting on the time an upperclassman in another sorority was gushing about her parents meeting through Greek life at a mixer — you could barely mask your dismay at the notion of finding a lifelong partner within that circle. Gradually, you learned to adapt to navigate those environments with copious amounts of alcohol among other substances. They served as a mask, veiling the disdain some of those young men would bring out in your expression. Their thoughtlessness with their dicks and carelessness with their words often left you repulsed and disheartened..

“Alright,” the disappointment in your professor’s voice snapped your attention back to the room. “Well, you were expected to have had that reading done for today’s discussion. Given that only two of you have actually taken the initiative of checking their emails before class, we’ll need to end early. Check your email for Thursday’s assignment as I’ll be sending it out briefly.” The sound of zipping bags and shuffling papers filled the room as the Professor’s words trailed off, students preparing to leave. Both you and Suguru remained seated, attentive. Hot, you thought. A man with respect for women speaking. “Thursday’s discussion will cover today’s missed discussion along with the planned agenda for our second meeting. See you then.”

She nodded briefly in your direction, and a faint warmth spread across your cheeks from the unexpected attention. Only two of you completed the reading? That caught your curiosity, and it seemed Suguru shared that sentiment. Pivoting in his seat to face you, his grin returning with your flush. “Hey,” his voice, smooth and gentle, made the corners of your mouth instinctively curve upwards. 

“Hi,” you replied with a playful smirk, casually tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Did you do the reading?” Suguru’s voice lowered, his gaze discreetly scanning a few classmates nearby. You responded with a nod and a soft giggle. 

“Did you?” You teased back, your own voice barely above a whisper. You felt like jelly when he rewarded you with a chuckle. Oh man, you thought silently.

“Yeah, I did. It’s just... none of it really made sense. Wondering if you might have some notes or something you could share,” he admitted as you both gathered your belongings, preparing to leave. You suddenly felt self conscious about your outfit, conscious of his attention. You and Suguru were unintentionally matched with your puffy, white turtleneck and shades of brown from your plaid mini skirt complementing his flannel. The leather knee high riding boots didn’t exactly match his black Converse in style, but certainly in color — you just worried it was too… girly. You hoped he wouldn’t write you off for your affiliation to Greek life. 

“Um, I did read it, but I have a bit of a weird approach... Do you have a class next or are you free for a bit?” the words spilled out before you could second guess yourself. Yes, keep going, you urged yourself silently as you led the conversation with Suguru into the hall. He can’t make assumptions without knowing you, you reminded yourself. He nodded agreeably, indicating he had some time to spare, then suggested grabbing a table at the coffee shop near campus. As you exited the building together, you decided it was time to let him see the real you. 

[berryhobii]

Hurry Home (pjm x reader)

Pairing: fiancé!Park Jimin x black!female!plus size!reader

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings: established relationship, fluff, Smut(18+ but I don’t control what you consume), reader sends Jimin naughty photos/videos, oral(f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t do this unless you’re absolutely sure), fingering, squirting, breastplay, doggystyle, begging, creampie, slight praise kink, Jimin and reader are super in love and it’s adorable

A/N: I’m back with this smutty, fluffy piece about Jimin being the best fiancé who’s obsessed with reader. I feel like that’s kind of a trend with me but black women are so beautiful. Who wouldn’t be obsessed? 🩵🩵As for reader, I described them as a darker shade of brown with coily hair, stretch marks, and of course plus sized. I hope everyone enjoys this and please feel free to check out my other works! Much love💜💜

~

Lover❤️

Attachment

Jimin smiled at the sight of your name on his phone. He hasn’t heard much from you since he left to hang out with his friends earlier in the evening. He knew you didn’t care about him spending time with his friends—you got plenty of his attention and you also had a social life of your own. You two were in perfect sync in your relationship, you prided yourself a lot on being the best partner and so did Jimin.

That didn’t mean you two didn’t like spending time with each other. When you weren’t at work or with friends, you two loved lazing around with one another; playing video games or cooking or your most recent hobbies of trying to complete a 10,000 piece puzzle. Jimin had impulsively purchased it online and roped you into doing it with him. So far, you’ve only managed to complete a corner of it but you were getting there. You had even gotten a table big enough to hold it.

Date nights were every Saturday and you took turns planning each one. Last time was your turn—you ended up getting tickets to one of Jimin’s favorite artists. He had tried to get tickets himself, spending hours on every device in the house to try and snag a single ticket. Unfortunately, they sold out and even the resale tickets were much too expensive. However, thanks to a few of your connections, you managed to get 2 tickets in a pretty good section. Jimin could have cried when he told him to get ready one night and drove both of you to the venue. Needless to say, he had a wonderful time and surprised you the next week with the biggest bouquet of flowers you’ve ever seen and a shopping spree at your favorite store.

You two were perfectly in sync.

He opened the message as he sipped on his beer, promptly spitting it back out when he saw what popped on his screen. A cough racked his body, leaning over to put his beer on the coffee table.

Taehyung who was sitting next to him, clapped the distressed man on the back. “Whoa Jimin, are you okay?”

After his bout of coughing was done, his eyes watering and throat burning, he sat himself back up. He was handed a bottle of water by Taehyung, gratefully taking it and chugging down the majority of the drink.

“Thanks.” He breathed out. “Must have went down the wrong pipe.” He gave a pretty convincing smile to his friend. Taehyung just shrugged and turned back to the soccer game they were watching.

After making sure no one was paying attention to him, Jimin turned his phone over, holding it super close to his face. He did not want anyone seeing what was on his screen.

It was you, positioned in front of the large full length mirror in your shared bedroom—you were on your knees, sitting back on your heels which made your plush thighs look even thicker. With one hand holding your phone up, your other was holding up the end of the shirt you were wearing. That revealed your light pink thong that practically disappeared into the plush of your hips and thighs.

You had recently washed your hair, the coils now up in a puff that you often wore. He always thought it made you look sexy and adorable.

Right now, you looked like straight seduction personified.

Just as he was about to type a response, a video popped up and he swore his cock screamed at him. He turned down his volume before hitting the play button. He’s been burned one too many times in public when you’ve sent him naughty videos. You were thoroughly punished when he got home from the grocery store.

The video started. It started with you adjusting the camera, propping it against something. Probably the mirror since you were still in the same spot on the floor. You turned away from the camera, giving him a full view of your juicy ass. He gripped his so phone hard that he could have broken it, crossing his legs to try and contain the boner that was growing in his pants.

What really sent him over was when you started shaking your ass, the fat rippling and moving like god damn water. That insulting piece of fabric you called a thong was working hard to cover your pussy. He cursed the stupid underwear. Why did you even bother?

Then you leaned forward on your shoulders, reaching back to slap at your own ass before spreading your cheeks. You did that a few times before lifting and retrieving your phone to stop recording.

Another message popped up just seconds later.

Lover❤️

Hurry Home💋

He watched it a couple of times, each time getting him more and more horny. He needed to go home.

“Uh I have to go guys.” He said to his friends, awkwardly standing up to try and hide his raging boner.

“What? Why? You’ve only been here for 2 hours.” Taehyung asked, eyebrows furrowing. Guys night normally lasted well into the night and to tomorrow. They’d get so wasted sometimes that they’d all just crash in Namjoon’s living room. That and Namjoon would probably skin them alive if they even thought about drunk driving. He knew Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook would be good since they could hold their liquor but the remainder of their group weren’t as lucky. Also, he didn’t get his law degree for nothing. The lawyer in him would never allow them to break the law.

Jimin ran a hand through his hair. “It’s y/n…..” He silently hoped they’d just take that excuse without any teasing.

“Is she sick?” Yoongi tilted his head.

Yeah sure. Let’s go with that.

“Yeah! She’s been taking a new medicine and it gives her headaches.”

Yoongi squinted his eyes. It was a special talent of his to be able to point out when someone was lying. Easy enough when he was a conniving ass liar as well. Yoongi could lie his way out of a lie detector test.

After a few painfully long seconds, Yoongo shrugged. “Oh okay. Wish her well for us and call us if you need anything.”

Jimin let out a sigh of relief, grabbing his jacket and his car keys before bidding the others goodnight.

“I hope y/n’s okay.” Hoseok said after Jimin left. Hoseok was actually the one who introduced you to Jimin. He’s known you for a long time so he worried about you like a big brother.

“She’s fine. Jimin was lying anyway.” Yoongi hummed, sipping on his beer.

Seokjin groaned as he landed yet again on one of Jungkook’s properties, unhappily handing over his $200. “Stupid railroads. Huh, how do you know he’s lying?”

“Did none of you see how he was standing? He obviously had a boner. She’ll have a headache alright but not from some medicine.”

~

Jimin almost tore the door off its hinges. You had sent yet another photo on his drive home—a tasteful flick of your breasts, your t shirt held between your teeth.

His spotless driving record didn’t mean a damn thing to him tonight. As long as he didn’t get arrested.

He rushed to pull off his boots, stripping himself of his jacket and shirt on the way back to your bedroom. He almost tripped over the rug and slammed his forehead on the closed door, grabbing the handle to open it.

And there you were.

Laid on your belly, your feet swinging in the air, playing a game on your Nintendo Switch. The lights were dimmed, the warm glow of a lamp illuminating the room enough so he could see.

You turned your head at the sound of him opening the door.

“Ducky, you’re home.” Sitting up and moving your game console to the side, you held your arms open, ready to welcome him in your loving embrace.

If his cock wasn’t so hard right now, he’d think the sight of you grinning and waiting for a hug would be totally adorable.

3 wide steps was all it took to get him from the doorway to the bed, his body falling into your arms and knocking you back on the bed. Your giggles were pleasant, sugary sweet and like music to his ears.

Desperate pecks were scattered all over your neck and jaw, his hands already digging bruises into the plush of your hips and thighs.

Your short manicured nails ran through his hair and down his bare back, his warmth seeping into you.

“Did you have fun with the guys?”

He scoffed out a laugh against your throat, hand coming down to sharply slap at the side of your thigh.

He leaned back a bit to make eye contact with you, dark hair hanging in front of his siren like eyes. “You little tease. Did you think that was cute?”

Your eyes danced with mirth without a hint of feeling scolded, shoulders shrugging.

“Cute? No. Worthy of unbelievable sex? Yes.”

He could feel the cool band of your engagement ring as you stroked the back of his neck. For the thousandth, maybe millionth moment since he met you, he had one thought.

I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

“Mission accomplished.”

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer until you could feel his erection pressing into your barely clothed count. “Getting ahead of yourself, eh?”

His lips graced over yours, the smell of gum on his breath. “Never.”

His mouth left hot trails down your throat, hands lifting the large shirt you were wearing to reveal your breasts. No photo could compare to seeing them in real life.

He hissed as he took both of them in his palms, running over your dark nipples with his thumbs. You sighed at the feeling, finally getting a little relief from being pent up all day. You didn’t mean to pull your fiancé away from boys night but you started watching some of the naughty videos you saved in the Hidden section on your phone and you couldn’t contain it. It wasn’t until you reached a video on your engagement night that a sneaky little idea popped in your head. Sending pictures and videos were commonplace in your relationship. It derived from Jimin and you starting off as friends with benefits all those years ago. Despite being together for such a long time now, you just never stopped.

And you wouldn’t. Not when it made your fiancé fly home this quickly.

His tongue ran over your breasts, pushing the mounds together to be able to suck at both nipples.

“A-ah….Jimin….” You moaned.

He hummed against your heaving breasts, sucking purpling hickies into your chestnut skin. You were so soft, your skin fragrant with your body butter and the lightest traces of your perfume. The scent of your skin changed often since you loved experimenting with new lotions and perfumes but you always felt the same no matter what. Your hands still caressed him the same way, your eyes still held the same light, and his heart still pounded in his chest regardless.

After deeming your breasts marked enough, he whispered, “scoot up.” You did so that you were fully on the bed. He kissed his way down your soft belly and to your cunt, his hands never leaving you. Pushing your legs up so that he had full view of your fat pussy lips, he swore he saw heaven. It had practically swallowed your thin underwear, the fabric disappearing between your folds. He breathed out a curse at the sight of your already glistening heat. Just how horny have you been?

“Pussy’s so pretty, baby. You’re so pretty.” He hissed, massaging at the insides of your thighs, fingertips tracing your stretch marks.

You squirmed at the feeling of his hot breath against your aching cunt. You needed him so badly.

“Please….honey….” You felt breathless despite him not really doing anything yet. He just got you like that—desperate and needy.

He smirked. He should tease you but doing so would tease himself and his cock was way too hard for that right now.

He shushed you, pressing light kisses to your outer lips before finally, finally running his tongue up your slit. He moaned at the taste of you, never ever getting tired of eating you out.

His fingers hooked in the front of your thong, prying it from your soaked folds and off your legs. Tossing it somewhere he didn’t care about, he adjusted himself to be more comfortable between your legs. He wrapped both of his arms around your thighs, pulling your cunt closer to his mouth before diving in.

Your back arched, hands finding his soft hair.

His plump lips latched around your sensitive clit, sucking the little nub before flicking the tip of his tongue all over it.

Your head rocked back and forth against the pillows, the pleasure overwhelming but not enough at the same time. You needed more.

“Jimin……fingers, please.”

His hooded eyes glanced up at your from between your legs, taking in your heaving breasts and face that was twisted in pleasure. Just the sight made him want to give you even more, to see you when you completely fall apart.

Two fingers ran up your slit, his mouth still slurping and nipping at your throbbing clit before pushing them both inside. The slight stretch made you moan, your toes curling.

Jimin’s been made fun of for the size of his fingers for years but you never complained. Those things could still bring you to orgasm, sometimes faster than his cock could.

Pressing the pads of his fingers upwards, he expertly located that special spot against the top of your pussy. He knew he located it when your hips jumped.

Adjusting himself so that he was leaning on his arm that wasn’t knuckles deep, he began fingering you. His pace was slow but calculated, making sure he was rubbing against that spot every time.

Stars danced across your vision as sparking hot pleasure radiated down your body. With each press of Jimin’s fingers, you could feel that familiar and immense sensation prickling at you.

Your high pitched moan alerted Jimin as well. He knew your body like the back of his hand of course.

He popped off your clit, sitting up slightly to lean over you. His plump lips kissed at your collarbone before trailing up to your lips.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” His voice was saccharine sweet with a hint of teasing in it.

You unashamedly nodded your head, blurry eyes blinking at him. Your hands cupped your own breasts, tweaking the nipples.

Adjusting himself, he pressed his hand into the area just above your pussy, the fingers inside pressing even harder into your sweet spot.

“Hold your legs.” He demanded and you obeyed, gripping both of your calves to hold your legs open.

Inhaling a deep breath, Jimin began thrusting his fingers in and out of you in a blurring pace. A loud moan rang from your throat, your nails digging into your skin but you couldn’t even feel the pinch. His arms bulged with each stroke, a slight strain in them that he ignored.

That feeling grew from the base of your spine around to your belly, swelling and swelling until you were ready to burst.

The tell tale clench of your walls and the way your eyes crossed let Jimin know that you were close. The sounds of your cunt were loud and wet, arousal dripping down between your ass cheeks and staining the blankets.

When he pressed particularly harshly, one of your hands flew down to hold his arm that was pistoning in and out of your squishy walls.

“Ooohhhh my godddd-uhhhh! Jimin!” You cried.

“Cum baby.”

You were way ahead of him.

That dam burst, the clenching of your walls forcing Jimin’s fingers out of you, a clear spray of liquid following. His fingers went to your clit, rubbing it back and forth to help you through your orgasm.

His grin was wide. “Yessss, good girl. Good job.” He patted your clit and few times, splashing the remaining droplets around as you came down.

You deflated against the bed, ears still ringing and pussy clenching at the aftershocks. You were so out of it that you didn’t even hear Jimin unbuckling his belt nor did you feel him turning you over until he landed a slap on your ass.

He was almost at his limit. He’s been hard since he left Namjoon’s place and he needed to be in your cunt right now or else he’d combust.

“Up on your knees.”

You huffed but rose up on your knees, keeping your chest and head down on the bed. You brought a pillow under your chest to hug and bite down on because you both knew how loud you got from doggy. And your neighbors were definitely tired of you by now.

Jimin took a brief moment to admire the plushness of your ass and love handles, running his hands down your sides before gripping your hips. Hands free, he slowly slid into your awaiting cunt.

You moaned into the pillow as his girthy cock penetrated your walls. Jimin was just the perfect length and girth for you—not too long were it hurt and just thick enough to really make you feel it.

Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust. You hummed before adjusting your knees slightly so that he could press into that spot on the next slide.

He leaned down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “You okay, baby?” Your heart pounded at his sweet consideration. He knows you’ve had uncomfortable sexual experiences in the past so he always made it a point to ask if you’re okay. While you’ve insisted you’d tell him if you were ever in pain, it still made you feel all fuzzy to know he’d still ask.

“Yeah.” You croaked out. “You can move.”

Sitting back up, he dug his fingers into your hips before starting to move his hips.

Deep and long thrusts that took your breath away, his balls slapping against your clit and sending tiny shocks through you. He perfectly jammed into your sweet spots, your belly tingling as pleasure overtook you once again.

“Fuck…” he cursed, head hanging low and eyes never leaving where you two were connected. “You feel so good. So tight.”

You moaned in response. “Faster baby.”

His hips clapped against your ass, the fat rippling as it bounced off him. He could watch this sight all day long and never grow tired.

You buried your face into the pillow, letting out pornographic like moans as your fiancé stroked you just right. He knew just how to move to melt you into a puddle.

Arching your back and spreading your knees a little more, you began throwing your ass back on him in a way you knew would drive him crazy.

He groaned, halting his hips to let you take over. “There you go. Throw it back baby. That’s it.” His right hand slapped both of your ass cheeks, loving how they jiggled under his force.

You lifted your head slightly from the pillow to moan out, “Your cock feels so good. I love it so much.” And you did.

His right hand gripped your left hip, starting his hips back up to meet each of your bounces. He couldn’t stop staring at the way your cunt began to cream around him, a thin ring forming around the base of his already arousal shined cock.

“I love you. Love this creamy fucking cunt.” He tossed his head back as your walls clenched around him. He was close.

Little “ah ah ah’s” came from you as Jimin practically carved his cock into you. His fingers hurt from how hard he was holding onto you, as if you could disappear if he let go.

He leaned his body down onto you, your legs spreading even more until you were almost pressed completely into the mattress. His fists moved to rest beside your head, lips sucking and nipping at the skin of your shoulder and neck.

Your sweat slicked bodies moved against one another, his chest pressed against your back as his thrusts became more erratic and fast. You moaned loudly, forgetting all about your neighbors. Jimin was hitting your spot just right, every fiber of your being on fire.

Everything just felt so hot and heady—the room low on oxygen and your bodies desperately chasing orgasm.

“Jimin….Jimin….Jimin….” You chanted, one of your arms unwrapping from the pillow to grab at his wrist that was by your head. Your other arm snaked under your body to rub quick little circles into your clit. “Right there baby. I’m so close.”

He grunted against your shoulder. “Me too. Cum baby.”

A few more rubs of your clit and your body was locking up as your orgasm washed over you. Jimin wasn’t far behind, a few more strokes and he was releasing inside of you.

Your legs completely gave out, body flopping against the bed. Jimin let out an airy groan before rolling over to lie next to you.

Both of you sat in silence for a moment trying to regain your breathes.

You stretched your body before rolling on your side to face your fiancé. His eyes were closed, chest moving up and down to calm himself. You moved to straddle waist, your cheek resting on his shoulder. His fingertips traced up and down your back, goosebumps popping up on your skin.

It was your turn to ask, “You okay?”

He hummed. “I’m fine. And you?”

“Good. Sorry I made you leave boys night.”

His laugh made his chest jump, a smile spreading across your face at the melodious sound.

“No you aren’t but it’s okay. Jungkook was beating Seokjin’s ass at monopoly so it was bound to be ruined anyway.”

You believed him. Seokjin was kind of a sore loser. Pair that with some alcohol and he had probably already flipped the table.

You chuckled, snuggling closer to his throat to place some light kisses there. “Guess I did good then.”

“Very good. I probably broke multiple traffic laws though.”

“You? My goody two shoes? Impossible.” Your sarcasm was thick and playful. He rolled his eyes, slapping your ass, your giggles joyful.

“I love you.”

You lifted your head to gaze into his tired eyes. “I love you too.” You pressed your lips to his in a slow and intimate kiss. “Round 2 in the shower?”

He smiled against your lips. “You read my mind.”

[splendsay]

COD Fic // Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 8: Dancin' is a Dangerous Game

^ that's me rn cuz I have so much planned for this fic muahahaaa my asks are OPEN rn and I'm workshopping a few more fic outlines so be prepared for a metric fuckton more of me

.............................................................. Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 8: Dancin' is a Dangerous Game

Huzzahhh we made it to a time jump. hope you enjoy a lil bit of sunshine (or shall we say, ace???) and ghosty's growth.

.............................................................................. CWs: Explicit language, vague mentions of past trauma and recovery

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader (You)

Chapter Excerpt:

You spend the next several weeks in a rhythmic pattern of training, eating and sleeping, the gray mornings gradually giving way to sunnier and sunnier afternoons. The weather itself remains crisp. You're not sure that Scotland experiences true heat, though it's still not quite summer. Maybe you'll be proven wrong.

It takes time to come back to life. But the old you is in there somewhere, and little bit, by little bit, she resurfaces. After the first week, you'd regained a semi-normal amount of energy, able to push through a full day without too much difficulty. That had only improved with time, but you still fall into bed each night utterly exhausted. Your sleep remains dreamless and heavy and all-consuming. 

You wake every morning with a roaring start, momentarily forgetting where you are. Hell, who you are, some days. But you're rested. You're groomed -- well enough, at least. You're fed. Though...

You're an awful cook. Ghost is somehow worse. The best the two of you together can scrounge up is a meager spaghetti dinner -- jarred sauce, of course. The cookies you'd made after that first day of sparring had turned out okay -- mostly edible, at least. Only a few bits too burnt to enjoy. But you found yourself eagerly awaiting Gaz's return, if only to eat something not made of years' old tomatoes. 

Plus, you feel it might be nice to see a face besides your own. Ghost doesn't count. At a minimum, he's always got the balaclava pulled up past his nose, but most of the time, he's wearing the full get-up. 

"Do you ever take it off?" you'd barked at him one day during a particularly grueling sparring session. He'd run you ragged that morning -- pushed you to finish a 5K without walking. You'd hissed and spat and growled at him the whole way, but you'd done it. Slowly. He'd celebrated your accomplishment by lording over you as you trembled through a couple dozen pushups, sit-ups, squats -- a whole menu of calisthenic torture techniques. 

By the time you'd made it to spar, you were entirely fueled by contempt. 

He hadn't answered you, of course. Merely looked down at you with his blackened eyes, arms crossed behind his back. Waiting for you to swing. You had -- too wild and wide -- and he'd put you on the ground with a solid whack to the armpit. You'd released a stream of more and more colorful swear words in retribution, but, as usual, they had bounced off him with no consequence.

And this was your pattern. Day after day after day.

............................................................................. Links to: Spotify Playlist Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

[bitchinbarzal]

hold on | J.Hughes

summary; just when Jack wants to give in, you tell him to hold on just a little longer

warnings; suicide, talks of death, ambulances, hospitals and substance abuse.

I took a more soft approach than I intended

Read at your own discretion

-

Jack should feel so blessed.

He has a great family; his two brothers and parents doted on him from day one, he had his dream job that he’d worked on for years and his friends were the very best friends he could’ve ever asked for.

So why did he feel this way?

Why was he allowing a girl to break his heart and make him feel useless.

Jack Hughes. Useless.

Layla had told him over text that she had slept with her roommate while he was away on a road trip to California. Jake. Fucking Jake.

Jack knew he wasn’t gay, like Layla had told him so many times when he brought up their flirting.

Jack didn’t want to tell anyone what happened, not on the road. He didn’t want the pity stares and the second guessing of his game.

So he kept quiet throughout the roadie. His game tanked in San Jose, he heard the comments in the media;

fraud

fake

not good enough

There was a break in games when the devils returned home, leaving Jack to sit with his own thoughts. Layla had attempted to visit but he wouldn’t let her in.

He let the media consume him, the news articles and TikTok videos. All calling him out for not being good enough, he was a bust.

His feelings started almost subconsciously. When he was out at the store he would pick up bottles of painkillers as if he’d not bought bottles the day prior.

He began ‘forgetting’ to call and text his family and friends. His way of preparing them to never hear from him again.

People began to get concerned for him, he wasn’t himself.

A week into his depressive episode Jack tried to get back out there. He ventured to Raya.

He started talking to a model, she seemed nice and they organized a date only for him to show up and she couldn’t stop talking about followers and social media, how being with someone famous like Jack would do good for her.

Jack paid the bill and he left.

Just another girl who saw him as nothing more than just another pretty boy.

The bottles lined up on his bathroom counter, caps off as he stared at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and bloodshot and his palms were sure to have cuts from his grip on the marble countertop.

He took them, all of them.

The empty plastic bottles clattered against the floor once he’d tossed them, his chest heaving while they slipped down his windpipe.

He was sobbing and he wasn’t sure why. It felt right. To cry and mourn the life he was taking away.

It didn’t happen all at once. Jack expected it to happen faster but he felt fine.

He found his phone, texting ‘i love you’ to his friends and family. A few replied with similar

Others, his brother Quinn questioned him

what do you mean? what’s wrong?

Quinn called him. He declined.

Quinn called again. He declined again.

Quinn text. And again. And again.

When Jack declined Quinn’s call for a third time, he called 911.

“Hi yes my brother, he’s acting weird and I think — I think he could be hurting himself”

Jack sat on the bathroom floor as the pills slowly worked their way into his body, his fingers began getting numb and he became drowsy.

He didn’t know what was happening but he heard a lot of yelling and the door of the bathroom flew open.

On the other side of the door was you, chest heaving as you stared down at him

“My god, dude your doors are heavy!”

You dropped to your knees next to him, pulling out liquids and needles while you simultaneously turned jack towards the toilet bowl.

“Who?” Jack slurred.

“It’s okay sweetheart, I’m here to help. My names y/n, I’m a paramedic. I hear you’ve got an awfully concerned big brother” you explained, using the time he was distracted to slip the needle into his arm while held the liquids he was about to need.

“I Just, Go! I want to die!” He demanded, shoving you as much as he could.

You shook your head “I can’t let that happen Jack, You have so much to live for”

“No” he cries “I hate you, stop!”

You turn him towards the toilet bowl once more and you say “You’re about to hate me so much more”

And before he can question you, you shove two of your fingers into his mouth and hit the back of his throat. He gags and tries to pull your hands out but you grab the back of his head and stop him

“I’m sorry Jack, I hope you’ll forgive me at some point”

He’s puking all over your hand and although he’s in no position to, he feels embarrassed.

Once he has vomited a sufficient amount your second paramedic has arrived with the gurney.

“C’mon bud let’s go to the hospital” you mumble, helping him up. He holds onto you, his hands are shaking and you can hear him softly sobbing.

Your heart breaks for him as you watch him, confused, sit on the gurney and be strapped down.

When he’s loaded in, he’s looking around as if he’s looking for someone. You smile as you go to grab the keys from your partner when Jack reaches out and grabs your hand

“Please don’t leave me”

You nod, jumping in the back with him.

You sit in silence for a while, filling out forms and checking his meds until Jack breaks the silence

“You’re not gonna ask why I did it?”

You hum “It’s not my place to question you”

“You’re not curious?” He presses.

You sigh, putting down your clipboard

“Do you want me to ask? Do you want me to question why you, Jack, hate your life so much to want to end it? What, because you’re a hotshot hockey player you think mental health can’t touch you?” You reply.

Jack physically gulps “how did-“

“Jack, you’re worth so much in this world. More than hockey! You’re gonna be a dad one day and get married? You’ll take trips across the world with your friends and you’ll do loads of exciting shit!” You exclaim, the smile on your face put one on Jack’s

He looked down at his hands and you huffed before standing to adjust his saline bag

“It was a girl” he mumbled and you frowned

“Huh?”

“It was a girl that I was getting to depressed over”

You tut and sit back down on the bench

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing! You seem like a great guy Jack and you have a caring family, your brother was really worried about you is what dispatch said”

Jack’s lips created a thin line and he hummed before he said

“Do You do this a lot? You were really calm today”

You chuckled softly “You are the first suicide attempt I’ve ever been to and I am actually having a major panic attack internally right now”

“Oh” Jack’s mouth creates an O shape “Sorry about that”

You brush it off with a soft smile.

“You’ve got so much to live for Jack, I promise”

Once you’re at the hospital and he’s being pulled out of the ambulance he grabs your wrist once more, bringing your attention to him

“What do i have to live for? Tell me”

You give him a smile and hold his hand

“It’ll happen Jack, just hold on”

“C’mon baby, just hold on a couple more-“

“He’s here!”

You throw your head back and cry out “Jack! What does he-“

“He’s so perfect baby, he’s fucking beautiful” he cries, kissing your head repeatedly.

That night, the rooms quiet and jack is sitting in the chair next to you while your son sleeps soundly on the other side of the room.

You look over to Jack and give a sleepy smile

He smiles back and said “was this it?”

“Was this what?”

“Me holding on. Was this what I was holding on for?”

Your face drops remembering that day

“Was It worth it? What I described?”

“It Was everything and more, thank you for saving my life in more ways than one”

[gilbirda]

The Vampire Bat

For DPxDC Week!

Day 1: Lazarus Pit.

[Read on AO3]

---

Jazz met him for the first time when she was doing that internship years ago. It had been a once-in-a-lifetime chance and she bet everything she had on making a good impression on the Arkham Asylum director.

(For whatever good it did, because even if she had made an impression she had to leave Gotham before the end of her internship. Danny needed her.)

She found him hurt and alone, with death all over him, still smelling like graveyard dirt.

He couldn’t be much younger than her, even if he was tall and very fit under the burial black suit.

Jazz followed him around, half wondering how a revenant was walking the streets of Gotham and half keeping an eye so he wouldn’t find a quick second death. She wanted to see as well if the guy, like all revenants, instinctively walked home or a familiar place - if he had loved ones that gave a light on the mystery, she wanted to talk to them.

Soon he was picked up and brought to a hospital, where he would be properly taken care of.

She hoped she wouldn't meet him again, but if she did, she wanted to solve this mystery.

***

Jazz met him again by chance, some years later.

She was on a forced vacation after Danny complained she was too bossy and he was a grown man now and ‘I don’t need you breathing down my neck all the time!’ and ugh-

So. Yeah. She was subtly sent a link to the Arkham Asylum job portal and details about her new flashy apartment in the city. Completely furnished.

Subtlety was not Danny’s (or his friends’) specialty.

So here she was trying to figure out if she wanted to go back to her dream or not, and if she really could just walk back in and ask for a second chance, when she felt him.

Her senses had gotten sharper with time - her liminality ramping up in the time it took Team Phantom to settle Danny as the ruler of the Infinite Realms. Somewhere along the way they accepted the fact that neither of them was completely human anymore, with Jazz herself embracing it rather easily given the circumstances.

Her only complaint? Having to consume ectoplasm regularly to compensate for her inability to make the stuff herself.

That’s why when she sensed the revenant from years ago, she could pinpoint his location easier than she did when she was younger.

She sniffed him out, finding that his smell had changed with time - the baseline graveyard dirt stink was still there, just buried under the most potent ectoplasmic fragrance she ever detected in the Living world.

He was not a ghost. He still had the warm middletones of a Living creature. But he was familiar enough to make her mouth water.

Jazz watched him, carefully following him around as he walked around the isles in the Classical section of Gotham’s Public Library. Everything he touched, everything he breathed at, smelled so deliciously that she got sidetracked imagining how he would taste.

She needed to know.

So bad.

Maybe this vacation thing wasn’t that awful of an idea after all.

***

She found him again, but in the craziest way possible. Also, maybe she had found out one of the city’s biggest secrets by accident.

Her mystery guy was a vigilante.

Not that it changed anything for her, mind you; it even made things more exciting. If he was used to the weird stuff going on in Gotham then she could approach him more directly and not lose time in silly games.

Once again she followed him around like a, well, like a ghost, having fun with the chase around the rooftops without him noticing. Or maybe he did? Sometimes she caught him looking around at the shadows, stopping to check them before doing his next jump.

It wasn’t until a few nights later, when she had to stop her chase to talk to some very lost ghosts that didn’t know they were dead, that her little game came to an end.

The click of the gun, once upon a time, would have made her heart stop for a moment. Now she knew it wouldn’t actually kill her, just push her officially to the other side of her Life/Dead status.

She turned, her hands lifted in the air.

“Who are you and why are you following me.” He growled. His aura did a flare that was supposed to scare her, but she had seen worse. One wasn’t the Princess of the Dead without fistfighting a few gods here and there.

She smiled softly, lowering her hands. “You noticed me?”

“I’m the one asking questions.” Red Hood didn’t lower the gun. “You have to answer.”

“Sorry, I’m just excited,” Jazz's chuckle was lost in the cold Gotham breeze. “I thought I would never see you again and then I did and there’s something about you-”

“What the hell are you talking about?” He growled.

“Oh, right, you don’t know me. It was… four years ago? I think. Yeah, four years. You were wandering around and revenants are vulnerable, so I watched you-”

“What?” He really liked to interrupt people, huh.

“Revenant? A type of undead. Not actually a zombie,” she rolled her eyes, offended, “those are a different thing.”

“You knew me? Four years ago?”

“Yes? Not, like, know, know you. I was in the neighborhood and sensed death on you and I needed to check.” She sniffed again, walking a bit closer. The gun was still pointed in her direction, but he didn’t move. “Something’s changed, though. You smell like death but also less like death, and more like ectoplasm. Were you revived?”

He tensed. So yes, someone revived him. His loved ones? She should know if there was a magician powerful enough, and with access to this much ectoplasm, in the city.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You mean you don’t sense me?”

His silence was enough.

“Oh well, how about now?”

She let her tight control of her aura go for a moment. It wasn’t a good idea to broadcast her status and power all the time, especially if she wanted to keep a low profile. Also, the Spirit of Gotham had let her into her city, but Jazz didn’t want to push it with a power play - she may be the Princess, but Gotham was older and her claim was stronger.

“Holy shit.” Red Hood flinched, putting away his gun. Then, he took the helmet off to look at her with his own eyes. “You feel just like the Lazarus Pit.”

“The what?”

Both looked at each other in silence for a moment.

“You really don’t know?” He insisted, frowning. “The League of Shadows?” She shook her head. “Ra’s al Ghul?” She shook her head again. “Immortal guy that has been using the Lazarus Pit to artificially extend his lifespan?”

Okay that rang a bell. “And has a creepy cult of assassins and lives in a mountain?”

He chuckled at her wording. “That guy.”

“I know of him. We’ve been looking into his case for a while.”

“We?” He arched an eyebrow. “Are you the death police?”

“I’m the Princess of the Ghosts, actually.”

He stopped and looked at her as if he were considering she was joking or trying to mock him. After a few seconds of pondering, he shrugged and rolled with it.

“And what does the Princess want with me? Take me back to the Afterlife?” By his little smile, he wasn’t taking this seriously. Did he think she was not being honest? What was the point of lying?

“If I wanted to take your soul I would already have done so,” she took a step closer. If she wanted, she could jump on him and take that sweet smelling ectoplasm, but she behaved. No need to act like a barbarian. “I just thought you smelled nice.”

He didn’t expect that. His cheeks turned a bit red. “That’s the worst pickup line ever. Very creepy.”

“Who said anything about pickup lines?” She slowly reached and brushed a bit of his hair away from his neck, the movement sending that sweet smell in her direction. “I’ve never encountered this scent and I’m curious.”

There was recognition in his eyes. He knew there was something different about him.

“Let’s say there’s an explanation for that. What would you do?”

What wouldn’t she do?

“If it’s harmful for you, I’d find a way to help and then kindly ask you if you are interested in a bit of fun." By the way his eyebrows rose, he got what she meant. "If not, then I want to kindly ask you if you are interested in a bit of fun and if you could let me take a sip."

"Are you- Are you like a vampire?"

She hummed, amused by the comparison. This wasn't the first time someone made a comment. Maybe she was a vampire after all, just not hungry for blood but for ectoplasm.

"Not for human blood.” If her smile hinted at her pointy teeth, it wasn’t on purpose. “So that’s a no?”

His smile was devious when he answered: “I never said I was against it.”

---

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[thisbuildinghasfeelings]

Tag Game Tuesday: 911 Lone Star Fandom Edition

How fun! Thank you for tagging me @tellmegoodbye!

When did you first start watching Lone Star? Who or what introduced you to the show?

In early February 2022, I began to see some Push gifs on tumblr and I was very intrigued. Two beautiful men, one waking up from a coma, both of them obviously in love with each other...I had to know more! I started season 1 a few days later and it took me around a week to get completely caught up. I was just in time to watch 3x07 as it aired. I've been completely consumed by the show and Tarlos ever since.

Which season is your favorite?

I think season 3 is the most consistently great season, though I love a lot about all the seasons. Still, if I have to pick a favorite, it's season 3.

Who is your favorite character? (Bonus: If you answered TK or Carlos, who is your favorite besides them?)

TK and Carlos are absolutely my favorite characters. I love them so much. I don't think I can even choose between them to pick out one single favorite. Aside from those two, I think my next favorite is Marjan.

Top five episodes. Go!

1. In the Unlikely Event of An Emergency (3x08)

2. Push (3x04)

3. Saving Grace (2x09)

4. Riddle of the Sphynx (3x13)

5. A Bright and Cloudless Morning (3x18)

If you could pick any character to be given a "begins" episode, who would it be and what would that episode look like?

Carlos. My dream season 5 episode would be somewhat of a "begins" episode for him, focusing on his relationship with his father and showing him working through his feelings about that and his grief. It would include flashbacks that would give us a chance to see more of Gabriel. I would also love it if Carlos was solving his father's murder in the present!

What is a scenario or storyline that you would like to see in season 5?

The one thing I want most from season 5 is great Tarlos content. Particularly, I want to see TK and Carlos working together as a team. They make a pretty good team, after all! I think it would be great if TK helped Carlos solve Gabriel's murder. Bonus points if this storyline involves both of them freaking out over the other being in danger!

What do you think is going on in this still?

There are so many potential scenarios! My best guess in this moment is that TK is upset and worried about Carlos--maybe he's being threatened by Gabriel's murderer or putting himself in a situation where he could be in danger. Carlos is trying to tell TK that everything is going to be ok when he gets a phone call that ends up being related to the danger somehow or potentially gives Carlos some information that will lead him into more danger.

Either that or maybe TK went to the pet store and they were all out of Lou's favorite crickets and so he came home devastated that he couldn't provide his lizard son's favorite food. Carlos, determined to not allow his husband to be disappointed, gets on the phone and begins calling every single pet store in Austin.

We all know about the elusive 5x05 spicy scene that has been teased, so what is your prediction for how it could possibly top 1x02?

To be honest, I'm not quite convinced that it could possibly be hotter than 1x02. I know Ronen said that it is, but he's very enthusiastic and recency bias could easily play a role here. However, I could imagine an excellent scene following a brief separation or a moment where one or both of them were hurt or in danger. Like some life-affirming/reunion/slamming each other up against the walls of the loft kind of sex! Really, it does not have to actually top 1x02 to make me happy. I'll be happy with anything!

Where was the Tarlos honeymoon in your mind?

Somewhere fairly close to home where they could have some peace and quiet and relax and enjoy each other's company and gaze at each other's wedding rings and get all sappy about it. What I want most for them is to be able to rest and be happy and in love, so that's how I picture the honeymoon.

Shoutout one of your favorite fan creations.

There are so many incredible fan creations in this fandom. So many talented people! It's very hard to pick just one. The first that comes to mind in this moment after just thinking a lot about what I want from season 5 is How I linger to admire by @ladytessa74. If the show gave me a season 5 just like this fic, I would be very happy! See also: this list of the fic that brought me joy in 2023

No pressure tagging:

@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @she-walked-away @reasonandfaithinharmony @carlos-in-glasses

@paperstorm @vineofroses @laelipoo @herefortarlos @bonheur-cafe

@literateowl @welcometololaland @goldenskykaysani @carlos-tk @toomanycupsoftea

@autistic-lesbian-story-lover @guardian-angle22 @reeeallygood @goodways

[bobgasm]

present day | the chest [01/04]

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x reader word count: 2062 warnings: loss, grieving, backstory,

summary: in which you find some old letters while cleaning

author’s note: sorry this took so long, i wrote a 15k oneshot that consumed my life momentarily

the chest | sincerely, | the namesake

The house was quiet when you arrived just before nine. Thankfully, it didn’t stay quiet for long. You set up your speaker, played the top 100, and got to work.

You’d always hated cleaning, but found it calming and therapeutic when you were stressed. Your mum had always sounded crazy when she said it was therapeutic, but now you were a firm believer in her method to madness.

Your dad and his siblings had been busy over the last couple of weeks trying to pack up the house. They’d gone room by room sorting and organizing your grandpa Michael’s belongings. Getting rid of old bedding or donating old clothes and furniture. The house was now bare, aside from the last few pieces of furniture that your dad would be taking to your place in the coming days.

Great-grandma June had been a spitfire of a woman. Growing up, she’d told you stories of her childhood. How her family had immigrated from Ireland in the early 1930’s. How she’d met her husband not long before he got drafted to fight in the war. How they relocated from Boston to San Diego when she was pregnant with your grandfather, Michael. 

She’d been your best friend when you were younger. You always loved going to her place to bake cookies or help her in the garden. She’d never seemed old to you. Always keeping up with you and your siblings whenever you went around to visit. 

When she passed away in early 2016, it had been a shock to everyone. Her son, your grandpa Michael, had moved in with her in her final days, and once she passed, he had to reason to leave. He missed his mum. 

Now he was being moved into a care home not too far away, and the house was being stripped and cleaned for auction. He needed the money from the house to pay for his stay at the care home, and while this house held memories you’d cherish forever, you knew you’d still have them. Even if you didn’t have the house.

You started cleaning in the kitchen and slowly made your way through the rest of the house. Making sure every room was spotless before heading up to the attic to make sure nothing else had been left there.

There were a few boxes of board games and a chest with old toys. You took them back downstairs and put them in your car, figuring you’d ask your dad what you should do with them later. Just wanting to get them out of the house for the time being, since the agents would go through tomorrow to take pictures for the listing. 

You gave the attic one final sweep after dusting and found a small chest tucked away near the overhang of the roof. You almost missed it, but it looked out of place. Carefully, you pulled it from its spot and opened it, sitting on the floor as you pulled the stack of letters from inside.

The papers were frail and wilting around the edges. Some of the writing was illegible, but from the few you could read, you wondered who Bob and Evelyn Floyd were. Were they friends of Michael’s, or of June?

The first letter was dated 1944, from Bob Floyd to his darling Evelyn. He expressed his fears, his sorrow at the loss of his brother, and his elation for their expected baby. 

You swiped at your eyes after finishing the first letter, and was already picking up the next. You felt weird for reading their private letters, but why were they in the attic of your family’s home?

The next letter was one that Evelyn had written back. Her words were sweet and expressed just as much sorrow and elation. Asking Bob if they could name their child after his brother if the baby was a boy, or if he liked the name Louise if they were a girl.

Your heart felt heavy as you opened the next letter, almost laughing as Bob told Evelyn the story of how he got his call sign, Pirate. Because he was nursing a little bird back to health and it sat perched on his shoulder while he taught. But then the tears were back as he pondered if he’d be a good father, before professing he couldn’t think of any better names for their baby then their own. Evie Louise, or Robert Lonnie Floyd.

By the time you reached for the next letter, the tears rolled down your cheeks with no intervention from you. Even if you wanted to stop them, stop reading the letters, you couldn’t.

It was when Evelyn wrote about your great-grandma June that you sobbed. Placing a hand over your mouth as you read how Evelyn watched Amelia while June was in hospital giving birth to Michael. 

They’d become friends. June and Evelyn were friends, and that was why the letters had been in the attic.

Had Evelyn asked June to give them to her baby? Why hadn’t she?

The next letter was from Bob telling Evelyn he’d be home soon. That he had a mission to complete before he’d be home, but he’d tell her more when he knew.

You couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in your stomach. Dear god, please let Bob come home safely. He has a new baby, for crying out loud!

You wipe at your tears and try to get a hold of yourself before starting on the next letter, but your attempts and gaining control of your emotions are futile. Evelyn is asking whether Bob received her last letter, and that she’s worried because she hasn’t heard from him in a while. 

She gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Robert Lonnie Floyd. Evelyn and June are planning a joint Christmas for their kids, and she’s hoping that they’ll all be together if Bob and June’s husband can’t make it. She hopes they do make it, though. 

The letter is signed by Evelyn and Robbie, and your tears fall faster. Your heart aches, because you can see the next letter in the chest. It’s typed out, rather than handwritten like the rest, and you know. You know what’s coming, but you still torture yourself by reading it.

It’s from Fleet Admiral Blair, and he’s telling Evelyn that her husband, Robert Floyd was killed in action only a few days after she sent her last letter.

You wished things had ended differently for them. You wished Bob got to meet his son, and that Evelyn never had to live through the pain of losing her husband. You wished you knew why June had their letters. 

Carefully, you put the letters back into the chest and closed it. You dried your face with the hem of your shirt and tried to calm your breathing. 

You didn’t know what to do. Did you call your dad and ask if he knew about the letters? Did you go and see your grandpa and ask if he knew about them, or if he knew where Evelyn and Robbie were? Since he was born about a month before Robbie, surely they were close? That they had grown up together?

Rising to your feet, you tucked the small chest under your arm and climbed back down the stairs. Tucking them back up before grabbing the last of your things and locking up before climbing into your car. The chest of letters sat on the passenger seat as you drove to the local watering hole, The Hard Deck, and pulled into a free park. 

The first thing you wanted to do was have a drink for Bob and Evelyn, and their son wherever he may be. Then, you planned on enjoying a burger before you decided what to do next. With the time being a little before eight, it was too late to bother your grandpa Michael. It could wait another day. The letters had already been sitting in the attic collecting dust for a good seventy years. Another day wouldn’t seem like much in the grand scheme of things.

The Hard Deck was a hotspot for the local Navy men and women. It wasn’t your first choice, but since Bob had been in the Navy, you felt like having a drink somewhere he might’ve frequented. Especially after a long day of cleaning.

You’d been here a few times before, when you were home for college break and wanted to see if any of the Navy guys looked good enough to let them buy you a drink. Sure, there were some strikingly attractive men, but their egos were on a whole other planet. Each time they proved to you why you should stay away, and you’d heeded their warning. 

Today, you were here to celebrate Bob and Evelyn Floyd. Today, you were grieving their love, their lives. 

You ordered a drink. Just a beer since you still had to drive home. Picking at the label as the moisture softened it until all the edges were loose. 

“Rough day?” The bartender asked you.

You looked up at her and gave her a weak smile, hoping you didn’t look as rough as you felt.

“Something like that,” you admitted. “I found some old letters in my grandfather’s attic while cleaning today. They’re from World War Two.”

“Love letters?”

“Yeah,” you replied, taking a sip of beer. “It seemed like my grandfather’s mom was looking after them for her friend, possibly to pass them on to her son. I don’t know if she forgot, or the son moved away, or why they were still sitting there after seventy-odd years.”

“Wow, that’s, wow,” she said.

You chuckled out a small laugh. “Yeah, I feel kind of bad for reading them. Like they weren’t meant for me. But my great grandfather fought in the war, too. I thought maybe they were theirs. Now I feel bad for invading their privacy, but also for their loss. He died, the husband. After the wife had just given birth to a little boy.”

“Oh, that’s heartbreaking.” She placed a hand over her chest as you swiped at your eyes.

“I felt like I needed to have a drink for them, you know? In case the world forgot about them.”

She smiled at you and handed you a napkin from nearby. “That’s sweet,” she said. “You sit tight, I’ll be right back.”

You dabbed at your eyes with the napkin, willing yourself to stop crying. You gulped down more of your drink, letting your eyes fall back to the bar. Reading the sign that was hung up and barely able to crack a smile. Remembering the first time you saw the sign and had witnessed a few Naval officers carrying out a patron because of it. 

You looked up when the bartender came back, placing another beer in front of you.

“Courtesy of the man in the glasses,” she told you.

Your eyes quickly found the man in the glasses slowly turning away. Dressed in a neatly pressed khaki uniform. Barely a strand of hair out of place. A solemn nod in your direction, all the acknowledgement he needed that you’d received his gift. 

“Oh, that was nice of him,” you told her.

“I thanked him for you,” she continued, offering you a smile. “He’s not expecting anything in return, either. Wanted me to make sure you knew that.”

“Huh? That’s new,” you replied, finishing the last of your first beer before toying with the new one. “Usually they all want something.”

She chuckled at your reaction. “Normally I’d agree, so trust me when I say it’s all good. Can I get you anything else, hon?”

“I’m good, thank you.” You replied with a smile. “How much for the first beer?”

“He took care of that, too.”

“Cute bastard. Thank him again for me, will you?”

She laughed. “Of course. Hope you feel better, hon.”

She left you to enjoy the next beer, and you savoured it. Unlike the first where you couldn’t drink it fast enough, you took your time with this one. Hoping the cute guy with the glasses would come back to the bar so you could strike up a conversation and thank him yourself. 

The kindness of a stranger was always something you found weird. But there was something about this stranger that had you finding it endearing. 

[linkemon]

Youtuber AU headcanons 1

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here.

AN (it's very hard to keep up with haiku syllables in English but I'm trying my best to modify my orginal poetry).

Xiao

✧ The boy mainly plays shooters and fighting games. He has a skill. He doesn't even have to try and kills go on and on and on...

✧ He is not interested in numbers on the channel and basically doesn't care about all the activity on the Internet. You're the one who talked him into it and you take care of the technical side. You edit videos or set things up for streams. You also moderated the comments before things got bigger.

✧ You occasionally walk by the screen but you've never shown your face. Fans often ask Xiao to tell who is next to him because they see him turn his head towards you. He always denies, saying that no one, because you don't want to be the envy of his fans and he has a lot of them.

✧ He gets mad when things don't work out but that's rare. He'd smashed the keyboard once or twice but only when he was playing for himself and nobody saw him.

✧ Die-hard PC guy. Doesn't accept consoles or smartphones.

✧ He wears sweatshirts all the time and they all look alike. Black and green are the only colours in his wardrobe.

✧ Disappears after streams very quickly. There are no goodbyes, he just turns off the camera and it's dark.

Kamisato Ayato

✧ King of ASMR. He often gets comments that he helps people fall asleep. His voice is so famous that he has given it to characters in several animations. Fans keep begging and sending him new stories to read on as podcasts.

✧ Ayato is rich but few people know it. Pretty good at hiding his private life from his fans.

✧ His sister appeared on Q&A episodes and absolutely won people's hearts. So much so that they asked her to take over his channel. And indeed, for a week he gave it into her care.

✧ You appear in some videos in the form of a hand. Sometimes you wave, other times you give him food. People are consumed by curiosity about what you look like. Kamisato always says with a laugh that he won't show you because someone else will steal you from him.

✧ Bobba tea is his brand. It reigns in many fanarts from viewers and he often drinks it on streams. Several companies wanted to work with him but he gently declined to maintain impartiality.

✧ Sometimes he plays strategy games but it's side content. Rather, he focuses on working with his voice as he is always busy. In addition to being a youtuber, he also has his own business and lacks time for other forms of work.

Kaeya Alberich

✧ Plays Genshin Impact and simps to most characters. He started shortly after the premiere and since then he has been completely absorbed.

✧ When you appeared on the screen, he already knew he was going to wish for you. All the fans watched with fascination how much he was excited about you. Unfortunately, he lost 50/50. That's why he did a weekly primogems gathering with the viewers to hit the guarantee. He got you on the last day of your banner and he was happy.

✧ Even if the current meta has eclipsed your character, he still has a three crowns on you and plays you on Abyss, just to show that he can do it.

✧ He wears a pirate headband for fun. Fans speculated that he might have a sick eye but he denied it.

✧ He fights with his brother all the time. Diluc also has a channel and you can see the rivalry on both sides. They pretend to be adults but in reality they have race to a million subscribers and still get at each other. Fortunately, they live separately and rarely see each other.

✧ Quite an attentive person. He doesn't mind being number one on social media hashtags. He has accounts on every social media he knows. He will take the opportunity to enjoy the triumph with the viewers, especially if he wins an achievement.

Xianling

✧ She runs a cooking channel. In addition, she travels a lot and records vlogs about cuisines from around the world.

✧ Her channel's mascot is Guoba. The bear has been standing at the back of the kitchen since the first episode and that's how it stayed. After some time, in the refreshed version, she ordered it as a stuffed animal for her store so that fans could also buy it.

✧ She regularly asks you to appear on the show with her. You make her fans happy with your relationship. They do compilations with your legendary flour wars.

✧ The girl creates unique compositions. She is known for using exotic ingredients in her dishes. She often combines them in an unusual way.

✧ She can eat a chili pepper without drinking antyhing after. Nobody knows how she does it. The video with this trick already has several million views.

✧ Xianling is planning on opening her own restaurant after flying around a few more countries. You promised to help find cooks and the number of CVs sent already scares you.

[stxrvel]

what is it with all these secrets? (6)

series summary: you woke up from a long coma with no memory of a part of your life only to be told by your teammates that you're married to the man you hated seven years ago. even though that seemed to be the only problem, as time goes on you're realizing there's a lot more history and mystery behind the accident that left you in medical care for months. blackouts, more memory loss, mistrust and a strange man who seems to be connected to everything. every day it gets harder to trust anyone around you, but you won't stop until you can finally uncover the truth behind the accident.

chapter summary: everything starts being suspicious when everyone in the complex dissappears. but just then, you learned some things that may be or not connected to something from your past.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: counting

warnings: just some bad words.

note: hi guys. i can't believe i got this out in one night, but i hope it is as good as i think it is inside my head. im really tired rn because i got sick and my whole body's just exhausted. so here it is for you guys! hope you like it and see you next time 💜

masterlist | next | series masterlist

You hadn't seen Bucky in two days. You had gone through and tossed and turned every room in the Complex, but he seemed to have simply disappeared. He'd been swallowed up out of the ground, as if he'd never been there at all.

And, being honest, at this point in the game you had no idea what to think. There was a jumble of thoughts and emotions inside your chest, all so crazy and frantic that you couldn't quite conjecture. That Bucky really hadn't existed would make as much sense in your head as the reality of that strange voice you'd heard out of nowhere in the middle of astral travel less than five days ago.

What the fuck was going on? Why couldn't you find Bucky? Why'd you had those memories when they weren't even yours? Whose voice was it? Why did it make you so suspicious of the team? Why did it seem like you were agreeing with it…?

Being alone with your thoughts wasn't the smartest choice of all, but Dr. Cho was done with the exams for the day and you had absolutely nothing to do. Probably by that time you had memorized every path, door and room in the Complex and were close to learning the color of every wall on every floor. The boredom was extreme and the ignorance did not make up for it.

Oddly enough, you hadn't met any of the team either.

It just seemed that every person you knew had disappeared from the Complex.

Alone with your luck, you wandered through every corner of the huge building until your head completely consumed you. You had in your mind only the memories of the last two weeks and that anything further back than that had disappeared. And you had tried to force the memories to come out, to give you answers and explanations, because no one around you seemed to have them or didn't want to give them to you. You had meditated, done grounding, watched hypnosis videos on YouTube, but you only got weird dreams in response. You tried everything, but it seemed like you simply hadn't had a life before the last two weeks. Were it not for the fact that it was impossible, you'd even doubt the few memories Bucky and some of the team had shared with you.

Like when one of the afternoons of the first week after several studies when Natasha and Steve came to keep you company and, among some of the things you were able to get out of them, they told you that you had once donated hundreds of dollars anonymously to several animal shelters that were about to close due to lack of funds across the country. Natasha also shared with you that one time when you were out on a girls' night out with the other girls on the team, you got so drunk that you bought five rounds in a row to everyone in the bar. The club gave you a membership after that.

Another day, Clint told you that you had rescued the two dogs that lived with his family in the field and for that alone his children considered you a real hero. He also told you that you had picked out many of the tattoos he had on his arm.

You also got Carol to tell you some things the first and last time you saw her. She told you that you two met in the middle of a fight and that you had beaten her. At that moment you remembered that you had laughed and asked her genuinely surprised how it was possible that someone with your physique and little fighting ability had been able to defeat one of the most powerful avengers, and she had only told you that you had caught her off guard. You didn't know it before, but you should have.

Tony was the one who shared one of the best memories with you. Your wedding day with Bucky. You hadn't even been able to get that information out of your own husband. He told you minute by minute what had happened that day, as if it had been his own. He told you how you had been nervous but confident since the morning, between hair and makeup, accompanied by your bridesmaids and him. He described the moments from the time you finished fixing your dress until you walked down the aisle and when you and Bucky said yes. He laughingly told you that Sam Wilson had gotten drunk on Asgardian liquor and gave the craziest and funniest speech of the night; he assured you that one of those days he would show it to you.

Between those and a handful of other stories, it was the only thing you had that assured you that you'd had a life before. And you were glad to know that you seemed to have lived it to the fullest, but that joy was mixed with a sour uneasiness in your chest that increased within you the desire for everything to go on as it had been before. But life being as unfair as only it could, you could only settle for imagining those memories that at some point you were able to evoke so vividly in your memory.

You also tried to ask questions about the blessed accident, about what had happened that day, but you never got a concrete answer. It seemed that every time you asked about it everything lined up around you so that the people you were with had to leave or simply left on their own with excuses that were too lame.

So, even though it seemed like you had maintained a good relationship with the team members and you had been a part of their lives and they had been a fundamental part of your life, you didn't trust them at the time. None of them. They never gave you any reason to trust, other than to talk about things in the past, and that maybe gave them the benefit of the doubt, but they hadn't done much on your behalf, so you weren't going to do it. You preferred to cling to doubt because it seemed to be the only certain thing among so much darkness.

Bucky seemed to be the only person you could really trust, that's why you had confessed to him what had happened in that hallway. But seeing now how he just disappeared, what were you supposed to think? In a situation like that, being the person you thought you were, you couldn't afford to trust just anyone. Especially when you didn't remember anything about anyone. Maybe you knew them well before, but what about now?

You went back to the control room when your feet started to hurt, the place where you started to spend more time those almost three days, mainly because you had magnificent view of all the cameras in the Complex and because your footprint was still registered with free access to the room, for some reason. It was past noon and you got tired of searching for answers in that meaningless labyrinth.

There was always a TV in the background on mute. You didn't know why. Maybe the person who should have been there instead of you liked to watch the news on mute. That seemed rather strange to you, almost suspicious. That every time you walked into the room there was no one there. You didn't even know if someone came in after you left or before you came in because you never saw anyone near its vicinity. But that didn't hold you back enough not to satisfy your curiosity.

You were watching that little screen when some familiar people started to appear in a corner of the newscast.

It was Steve and Carol.

With a frown you reached for the TV remote, which wasn't too far from the camera panels. You unmuted it and the words began to come fast.

“… the Avengers seemed to be having trouble with it. It's been over a year and it looks like this is a threat we won't be able to get rid of.”

As the presenter finished speaking, videos of the Avengers, many half-recorded with lousy cell phones and others with aerial views, took over the big screen. They seemed to be in different parts of the world, but the panorama was always the same: destruction and total chaos. Another voice began to narrate over the videos.

“October 27, 2022 is the day everyone remembers as judgment day. The sky turned purple and darkness surrounded the planet for seven whole days. Although scientists searched for answers, they did not think to look outside this planet. One man, an extraterrestrial, with immeasurable powers of destruction, has unleashed chaos on the planet ever since. He has not been credited with a name, but people call him-”

The screen went black and all you could see was your own stupefied reflection.

“What are you doing here?”

That voice stunned you.

You'd never heard it before, nor had you ever tried to get close enough to do so. For some reason you always preferred to stay away. And to have her show up now, right at that moment…

Still, even though she was the person you trusted the least on the team, and only because she had turned the TV off on you when you were discovering something that everyone had surely kept hidden from you and that had generated quite a bit of annoyance, you turned around and faced her.

“Who was that man?”

Wanda Maximoff didn't seem surprised by your question and your coarse tone of voice. She had indifferent features on her face, an unflappable seriousness that a person could only maintain after years of disappointments and suffering. At that moment you wondered if it had been the right thing to expel completely from your memory the fact that she had been one of your bridesmaids.

“A very bad man.”

“I'm not a child. Who is he?”

“No one you should care about.”

“Then why the hell did you turn off the TV? And why did you show up just then? Were you spying on me?”

Wanda didn't answer you, only focused on the control of the device she had levitating with one of her hands surrounded by that reddish mist so characteristic of hers. A shiver ran through your body, because you didn't even realize the moment she took it. Her eyes never left yours, and though you tried to keep your composure, she was too intimidating.

“Stop asking so many questions.”

Her open palm closed and with it she shattered the control. Its pieces fell noisily to the floor, interrupting the heavy silence that followed her words. If you had any doubts about taking that as a threat or not, you were left with none when you looked up from the floor, from the shards of the control ruined by her telekinesis, to see her face enserrated with eyes so dark you felt they could devour you.

Wanda wasn't playing around. For some reason she didn't want you to know anything about that man on the news.

Regardless of what she did or said, one thing that was certain was that this man was diabolical. The pictures and videos of the disasters, massacres and general destruction spoke for themselves. And even more so the fact that it seemed that the Avengers, united, had been unable to defeat him. The mere thought of his power, such that an entire group of super people couldn't stop him, made you shudder.

“Who do you think you are to say such things to me?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, and you saw her determined to turn around and head for the exit at once, as if that conversation with you wasn't even worth the effort, so you raised your voice:

“Does he have anything to do with what happened to me?”

You saw her stop on her feet, face inscrutable but her eyes glinted slightly. A small glint of surprise that gave her away. You almost pointed your index finger at her. It disappeared as fast as it could, but it had been there, you were sure. And her defensive stance didn't help her to maintain her nonchalant posture. You had hit the nail on the head. You didn't want to say you were right, but….

“It does have to do,” you mused.

“No,” Wanda spoke up, but too late for her liking. She had already changed and now looked like she wanted to rip her tongue out just because she had set out to answer your questions in the first place.

“Why is he related to me, is he to blame for me not remembering anything?”

“Stop it. That man has nothing to do with it.”

“You are a very bad liar.”

Wanda's eyes suddenly looked surprised, as if your words had been the answer to a problem she'd been searching for a solution to for years. Suddenly she didn't look terrified but… hurt. You couldn't help but compare that expression to the one Bucky wore the few times he had talked to you about things you didn't remember.

But her mask came back quickly and with a scowl she pointed accusingly at you.

“Stop asking questions and shut up.”

That time she left the room without you being able to think of anything to stop her.

-

You didn't know what to do anymore. You had spent hours thinking about what you had discovered and Wanda's expressions, but you couldn't find a connection that was big enough to justify the drama everyone was making about the accident. If she had tried to hide it from you like that it must be related. That, or maybe it was simply someone who had hurt her deeply and she couldn't bear to see him or talk about him.

Mmm…

So, if what had happened to you was because of him, that man personification of chaos, there was only one way to put it together: being an Avenger, you were sent on a mission to fight this great villain, but in the course of the fight you couldn't defeat him and he left you so wounded that you had that memory problem.

That's it. That must have been it, right?

But… it sounded so small compared to the fuss that seemed to surround the accident.

No one ever mentioned it, nor did it ever escape their attention, even if they were distracted. They were trying to avoid the subject at all costs and run out of your reach as fast as they could. That they did those things, that they avoided the subject like the plague, didn't fit so well that in the end that was the simple explanation. It had been a fatal accident in the field, surely it had happened to them before. It was an occupational hazard. So why were they hiding it from you like that?

There must have been something else going on, and you had no way of finding out about it, because you didn't happen to have a cell phone or internet access. You'd never questioned it before because it seemed like the logical thing to do, seeing what you were recovering from and they didn't want you to have information overload, but now it just seemed too suspicious.

With so many things inside your head, you decided to leave the Complex. You had never gone farther than the distance of the parking lot within what you could remember, but you knew that the back was full of trees and surely green trails that your peace of mind would enjoy very much in those moments.

There, as you walked away from the building, your mind went back to Bucky.

He was the person you least wanted to stop trusting, but for him to disappear from your sight after what you said to him was so strange. And that the others weren't present either was also suspicious. Bucky had done nothing but support you during that short time you remembered and all the memories you had of him only focused on his kindness and understanding. There was no way to paint him as the bad guy in the story.

Then, there was the other thing you really didn't want to think about…that voice… what it had said…

Whoop, wait.

What's that?

You stopped in the middle of the trees.

You didn't know how far you'd walked, but it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since you left the Complex. You had been so focused on distracting your mind that you narrowly missed the strange thing that seemed to be in front of you.

An iridescent glow appeared a few feet away. It appeared and disappeared. It appeared somewhere else and disappeared. It was like bubbles. Or like the light that caused refraction when the sun rested directly on a clock or a mirror.

They weren't very powerful, you could barely notice the colors. But it did seem to be everywhere at the same time.

As you got closer, you noticed that your vision started to get a little blurry. Even though you touched your eyes, it wouldn't go away.

When you finally got close to it, to that kind of anomaly, you could notice that indeed the colors seemed to be everywhere because of the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the trees.

You also noticed that the blur did not disappear. But with a quick glance back and sideways, you realized that that strip stretched the length of the forest, and seemed to curve a few miles into the background.

What the hell was that? Your head was hammering for an answer, but you really couldn't understand what you were seeing. You could only process surprise and fear.

You raised a hand to reach through the blurry blanket and…

And…

You couldn't.

It was hard.

Too hard.

You moved your hand again, this time with your palm extended forward, and as soon as you made contact you could see ripples move from where your hand was upward.

That was a barrier.

And seeing how it extended sideways and upwards…

It had to be a dome.

But why was there a dome surrounding the Complex?

Your mind had barely begun to ask the important questions when you felt it. Everything happened very slowly.

An electric current passed from the barrier to your fingertips. You saw it coming from above. From your fingers it moved quickly to your arms and suddenly seemed like shock waves. You felt five currents, there gawking and dumbfounded, until the sixth electric current was so strong that it sent you flying a few meters back.

Surprised, you couldn't even react. You felt the emptiness of a fall as your body moved backwards, until you finally hit solid ground making a loud, elongated sound. You had crawled a little on the grass. In pain, you writhed on the ground, letting out slight groans. What was that supposed to be? Why had it thrown you like that? You hadn't even gotten out of a few questions and you were already entering another pile of questions.

When you sat down on the grass expecting to see the dome a few feet away, you were struck dumb when you saw that you were a long way from the trees. And several of them looked like they were cut down, very specifically they looked like they were cut in the direction you were thrown.

Without taking your eyes off that long path you stood up. It seemed to be that the current from the dome had thrown you so hard that you had gone all the way through the trees back to the entrance of the path. Even in the distance you could still glimpse the iridescent glows of the dome.

You were too surprised that you felt pain, but not too much. How could you not be in tremendous pain after crossing through fifty or so trees that fast?

But before you could continue thinking about the unreal situation you were going through, you heard a commotion in the back. In the parking lot. Being that the entrance to the trail was relatively close to the parking lot, you didn't have to walk too far until you began to make out faces.

They were the faces of the Avengers, especially Bucky.

You started walking faster when you spotted him and he wasn't far behind. It looked like he'd seen you sooner because he was already trotting towards where you were.

“Where were you?” you spoke quickly when he reached your side.

He didn't respond, just kept his gaze fixed on you. You barely noticed the dirt smudges on his face, and with a quick inspection he didn't seem to have any serious injuries on his body.

“Bucky?” you spoke again after several seconds with no response.

His body seemed frozen with his longing gaze fixed on your face. You missed his attitude, but at that moment you had important things to ask.

“Bucky, did you know there's a dome over the Complex?”

The aforementioned shook his head slightly. That question seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“And I saw someone on the news today. A man. Very destructive and evil.”

Bucky discomposed his face more and more. Suddenly, it looked like only fear and confusion made his expression. You didn't know if the right thing to do was to press on with asking or wait for him to say something.

The rest of the team, instead of entering the Complex, stood behind Bucky. You barely glanced past everyone because you really didn't want to see them, and you didn't want to have that conversation there either.

“Why don't we go inside?” you asked Bucky with pleading eyes as you grabbed his wrist to make him walk.

“There wasn't anything you could do, was there?” Bucky finally spoke, and you wondered for a moment if he was really talking to you or to what was going around in his head, because from the look on his face you could almost swear he was lost in thought.

His eyes were shining, emotions were passing too quickly across his face to identify them carefully. But one stayed with you: heartbreak. He looked like he had just been told that the love of his life had died. You thought for a moment if that was the expression he'd had when he found out about your accident.

The accident.

“Bucky, we have to-”

He embraced you. Hastily, he took your hand that had gripped his wrist and pulled you until he had you contained in his arms. His grip was so tight you feared he might bury your clothes in your skin. Still, his embrace felt like a welcome. Maybe that's how he would have hugged you if you had awakened from your coma with your memories intact. But you also felt desperation pouring from his pores, with the way he moved his hands over your arms and the way his breathing quickened and wouldn't calm down, even though you were so close. It seemed he feared you would disappear, that you would be gone again, out of his reach.

His thumbs caressed your skin, but it felt rough, hard, desperate. Bucky seemed to want to remedy something with that embrace. Maybe his guilt, maybe your pain. Maybe the time together you had lost. His touch almost surrounded the abuse, but his ragged breathing seemed to make up for it.

You wanted to push him away so you could go inside. You wanted to tell him what you had discovered in such a short time, the things you had surmised, but you couldn't find it within yourself to push him away. Not when it seemed he would faint if a millimeter of his skin didn't touch yours. Not when it seemed that your breathing near his ear was the only thing keeping him sane.

“I'm sorry. I really am,” was all he said, after several seconds.

His grip didn't lessen much over time. Rather, it stopped being a little desperate, but it was still strong. He didn't want to let you go.

And, for a moment, you decided to share his feelings. You hugged him back just as hard and also decided not to let go.

You hoped you were making the right decision.

--

Taglist: @cjand10 @yallgotkik @ruffdog921 @coracal @its-just-kayy @pono-pura-vida @vampiresarezombies @kaz11283 @vicmc624

[knickknacksandallthat]

sorry to bother but do you have a plan of when part 4 will come out

ofc it’s perfectly fine if you’re not ready, from the looks of it this is a really big project

Hi anon!!

Oh my goodness, no it's no bother at all! Honestly, I would much rather be talking about fic writing than doing boring things like making a living (which consumed MY LIFE last week).

Ha! And you said it - this fic series has definitely been all-consuming. But I really love this particular AU, so let me tell you I've been working on it non-stop whenever I have time and have the following figured out so far:

My outline currently has the next fic at 12 chapters, though I have a sneaky suspicion that it'll become longer.

I have 53K written so far (but that's before editing😅).

It will have alternating POVs between Jean and Jeremy.

I wish I could give you a better sense of timing, but honestly it all comes down to my work schedule and what free time I have. At this point, I feel like I'm aiming toward April - but don't quote me.

And because I haven't posted something about Once in a Blue Moon on here for a while, here's a new snippet to chew over while I keep hustling as a thank you for your patience! 🥹

OIAB scene under the cut:

The LA airport is hot and muggy. It makes sweat bead down Jean’s neck and uncomfortably gather beneath his collar. Though he wears the lightest long-sleeve shirt he owns, the material still feels constricted and stifling, sticking to his skin. He has the insane urge to tear the garment off him and walk around bare-chested just to feel some relief.  Of course, he would never do so. In fact, the mere thought of it makes him pull his sleeves down farther, covering the backs of scar-ridden hands.  At least his head is cool.  He runs a hand over his buzzed scalp once more, the fuzzy feel of it still odd to him. Abby had suggested it so they could see his stitches better. And since so much of his hair had been pulled out anyway, it seemed to make sense.  Still, he hates how foreign the feeling is. He’s a stranger in his own skin. Has been, for some time he thinks.  He glances up anxiously at the clock on the wall, his knee bouncing as he waits. His flight landed ten minutes ago, and he thought his captain would be waiting here to greet him.  Apparently, he thought wrong.  Laughter erupts from behind him, and Jean jumps. He immediately spins around, only to find a family standing nearby, laughing at the antics of their two-year-old. He watches them for a moment before slowly turning back, clasping his hands in front of him and clutching them tight. Anxiety slowly begins to creep under his skin. Had he gotten the day wrong? Or the time? Did something happen between Palmetto and here that caused a delay? Should he call someone to ask?  He opens his phone and looks through the few contacts on his list.  Abby Winfield David Wymack Jeremy Knox Kevin Day Renee Walker Jean scowls.  His preference would likely be Abby or Renee, though he thinks the latter would have no information useful for this. Wymack, he would tolerate. He skims over the fourth name on the list because he’s never thinking of that fucker again in his entire life, if he can help it. Then he stares at the fifth name, the contact information for him uploaded without his knowledge into this new phone Abby got him. Jeremy Knox.  Starting Trojans Striker. #11. Played 52 games last season, scored 41 goals, and had 36 assists. Captain of the USC Trojans for three years straight. Fifth-best striker in the NCAA.  (Fourth, now that Riko is gone.)  Weaknesses: favors left side for goals, left knee injury in his sophomore year of high school, and overly attached to wellbeing of teammates. Jean scowls again.  If Knox is anything like the person who recommended him, he’s bound to be both a waste of Jean’s time and breath. After all, he can certainly strike punctual off the list.

Thanks again for the ask, anon!

[pedros-immaculate-vibes]

A Peaceful Elf

Part IX

Halsin/Tav fanfic (slow burn, fluff, angst)

Halsin spent a good portion of the afternoon and evening patrolling. It always steadied him, made his heart lighter. Tav didn’t seem to mind the time alone, either. In a camp normally spent with several others, time alone when you wanted was a luxury. Apparently, it was a luxury they both enjoyed.

Dinner consisted of ingredients he had found in the woods while securing the nearby area: puréed sweet potato with a wild onion/celery/carrot base, some assorted spices sprinkled in. Roasted garlic cloves (a little burnt) on leftover bread Gale had made recently. A leafy carrot stalk garnish. Not something he thought would be served by a finer cook, but he took some pride in what he’d managed, all the same.

“My, my, look at this spread,” Tav reached out for the plate and bowl, steam wafting off of the food and into the night air in curls. “Is this because you feel bad for my leg or because it’s hard to make food this pretty for eight grown buffoons?” She closed her eyes as the aroma reached her. “Helm’s beard, that smells amazing.”

A deep laugh rumbled in Halsin’s chest. “I’ve been alive for 350 years with plenty of that time spent out in the wilds. If I couldn’t cook with what nature provided by now, I could scarcely call myself a grown elf, let alone a druid.” He sat down on a chair next to Tav, and kicked his feet up on the other cot. “And mostly because of your leg.” They ate in an oddly comfortable silence for a few minutes, until a light tension seemed to flow between them. Tav was the first to cut it.

—

“So,” in between mouthfuls, and having more gumption with a mostly full belly, “Tell me more about yourself. I feel like we’ve been traveling for weeks,” swallows a mouthful, “you’ve probably saved my life twice now: when the gnolls came and you healing my leg right afterward,” another spoonful, “and I feel like I still haven’t gotten to know you properly yet.”

He paused, thoughtfully looking at his bowl, “It’s true, and I can’t imagine I helped with that. Sometimes, I can let the task at hand consume me,” a huff like a tired laugh, and he lifted his head to look out at the night sky beyond the tent canopy, “people have said I can get a bit obsessed. Ha, believe me,” he looked back down at his bowl, scraping for another spoonful, “the day I no longer have to talk about the shadow curse will be a very happy one,” almost rueful. Then, his face brightened a few shades and he looked at you, “What would you like to know?”

You nestled your now empty bowl on top of a pack near the cot, and propped your head up with an arm. You decided to go for something obvious and smiled to yourself. “Well, for starters, you’re kind of LARGE for an elf, aren’t you?”

Halsin smiled in shock, “I AM?” in an incredulous tone.

Chuckling, he continued, “Trust me, it’s been said. You’ve shown more restraint than most in avoiding the subject until now.” He sighed. “It’s a natural question but I have no good answer, I’m afraid. Perhaps, there’s a half-orc buried somewhere deep in my ancestry,” shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Or perhaps not. Sometimes, I think conventional wisdom is too narrow about what a person can or can’t be. Stranger things have happened, to be sure.” He rose and took your bowl on top of his, bringing them to the wash bucket near the center of camp. “Anything else?” he offered, smirking back at you while scrubbing the dishes clean.

“I don’t know, let me think a minute,” pensively drumming your fingers on your lips.

Halsin chuckled again. He seemed to enjoy this game, as did you.

Placing the dishes to dry on a towel-covered crate, he began strolling back to the tent.

“I’ve got one: how did you come to be a Druid?”

“Ah, that is a good one,” he nodded, sitting back down in the chair with an Umph and stretching his long legs out onto the cot once again, crossed at his ankles. He looked up at the tent ceiling, calm as he recollected. “I had a friend when I was young, long ago. He played with me in the forests where I grew up…eventually, I realized no one else had heard of him. His name was Thaniel.” A light chuckle, “Nature was my very first friend. I continued to age, but he never changed a day.” A look of loyalty shined in his face. “I knew then that I had to be more than just a companion to him, I had to be a protector.”

That’s quite noble, you thought, not surprised in the slightest. “Hm, that’s a good reason.”

“I thought so,” his smile had a hint of sadness.

You could see the shadow of melancholy and decided it was time for a new question. “What’s something I would never think to ask?”

Halsin brightened. “Ha, alright, let’s see,” he bit the inside of his cheek while he thought, knitting his fingers behind his head and flexing his thick arms back.

His arms—

He gave you a sideways glance, “Um, I suppose you wouldn’t be shocked to learn I like animals and nature?” he said self-consciously, as if he were telling a hackneyed joke to an audience. “Haha, I know, well-trodden territory,” he looked back up at the tent ceiling. It was cute to see him with his guard down; it made you wonder how often he had ever let it down at camp.

“Hm, let’s see,” he continued, genuinely trying to find something unique about himself worth telling; that exercise alone made him uncharacteristically off-balance. “Well, I—uh, whittle in my spare time?” He intoned as if asking for validation. “And I have something of a sweet tooth, although everyone is always very amused when I say ‘I like honey’,” a quick exhale through his nose showed mild irritation.

“Oh, really?” You were genuinely surprised, unsure as to why, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were interested in what he had to say. It came across as if no one had asked him something like this in a long time, if ever. “What do you whittle?”

Momentum jumped back into his answer, “Oh, a few things. Ornaments, utensils,” he paused, lost in thought for a moment, “and ducks. I like ducks.” He looked back down at you with one of the purest smiles you had ever seen in (what you could remember of) your life.

You adjusted your chin to the palm of your hand and your head to your shoulder with a quiet laugh, “So you turn into a bear and you like honey?” You lifted your eyebrow with a smile. “That’s a little on the nose, don’t chya think?” You couldn’t stop your eyes from softening; there was something about him…

“I like what I like,” he stated, then added with a humorous, confident air, “Once you get to my age, you realize there’s no point in denying yourself, so long as other’s aren’t affected.” 

Simple as that.

I wonder what else he doesn’t deny himself… 

You could feel your blood begin to ignite, again.

“Well, I can’t argue with that.” You didn’t fight the flame this time; it was exhausting and futile and would make you awkward and conspicuous. Instead, you found solace in the fact that you wouldn’t act on the flame, however high it razed you. You settled further into your cot and blankets, beginning to feel drowsy. “Thank you for sharing,” you nodded, daintily.

A quiet smile painted his face and he rested his arms down, turning in his chair to face you a bit more. He rested his elbows on his knees. “Thank me by returning the favor. Come on, I’m sure you’ve got something better than carving ducks,” he added, playfully.

“Ha, well, okay, um…” seconds passed while you thought. You rolled onto your back (so you would be less distracted by him) and stretched your arms up and behind your head. “I don’t remember much from before the crash…Oh, here’s one: I love fields of flowers, but I’d rather have a field full of herbs, like marjoram or cilantro or mint, any day,” you perked up. “They smell deep and green—complex. It’s hard to explain—like, there’s more to them than the vibrance that lasts until a light frost. Let’s see…what else,” you scrunched your face up at the gently undulating tent fabric. “Ah! I’m deathly afraid to try Lae’zel’s cooking.” You both snickered. “Would I trust her with my life? Absolutely, unless that involved a spatula.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, still smiling to himself. A few pleasant seconds passed. He sighed and began to stand up. “Well, I should get back to my studies. Thank you for the company,” he bowed his head minutely like a gentleman and began to leave the tent when—

“Wait.”

He waited.

“I—So, I don’t know how to ask without it sounding strange…” you looked pensively at your feet. “When all of us were here, it made sense to have separate tents. We all made a perimeter. But we’ve gone from eight to two…”

“…You want me to stay…”

“Even if only until I fall asleep,” you looked back up at him, trying very hard not to sound pathetic. “I keep imagining something coming in the middle of the night,” whether it was a gnoll or a butler, you couldn’t decide. You just knew it felt like it would be a restless night, and you were still an easy target. “If you did stay, well, four ears are better than two,” you chuckled weakly, hoping that including logic into your request would help.

He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re not wrong. Perhaps…perhaps it would be wisest,” his expression shifting from strained to relenting. “Do you mind if I study with a lantern on?”

Relief flooded you. “Not. At. All.”

He smiled back, “Right. Then, I’ll be back.”

Grateful he took the request the way you had intended, you relaxed back into the makeshift pillow. It would still be a restless night knowing everyone was out doing gods-know-what, but having at least one other person nearby at night made you feel safer, if only by a fraction.

And the fact that it was him…you couldn’t decide if that comforted you or put you more on edge.

I wonder if he snores.

—

Halsin returned to the tent, batting away an errant moth, books stacked neatly in hand. Atop the tomes sat a mirror. “I forgot to tell you, Astarion wanted you to have this,” he mentioned, handing Tav the glass. “He said you might be in need of it.”

“Where those his exact words?”

Halsin looked away, busying himself with preparing the newly claimed cot. “More or less.”

“HA, I’m sure. You’re a bad liar, bear-man, but that’s a good fault to have. Gods, he can be a prick, sometimes.”

“Hm, that’s bear-elf, to you,” he grinned. Another lull before he spoke, “I do not pretend to understand your relationship with him, but I believe he meant it as a kind gesture.”

Tav held it thoughtfully, “I know. He always adds a bit of salt to the sweetness.” She paused, “He can be hard to get close to, at times.”

“Mm, he probably has some very good reasons for that. People often do. Perhaps, his trust has been broken one too many times, and you are the first to challenge that pattern.”

Tav looked at him strangely, like he was the first to ever say birds could fly or trees came from seeds. “Perhaps.” She clearly wished to change the subject, and asked in a milder tone, “What books do you have this time?”

“More literature regarding cursed lands and the Underdark, nothing more,” he replied lightly, reordering them on the table before sitting in the cot. It creaked and stretched audibly. He held one in his hands, hair rustling around his downturned face as he began to study.

—

The way he said “literature” made your brain tick pleasantly.

“You seem to take the shadow curse very to heart,” you noted.

“Well there’s hardly anyone left to share the responsibility with,” he looked up from the first page. “What Ketheric released onto Moonrise is not something that nature can resist alone. I must do what I can.”

“That must be a heavy burden to carry alone,” you mused solemnly. “Do you know how it can be stopped?”

“Perhaps,” he angled his head from side to side, considering, “but we need to get closer before I can put my theory to practice. Put it from your mind for now. Once we near the curse, then there will be more to be said.”

If you hadn’t been so tired, you might have put up more of a fight; there were clearly things he hadn’t shared regarding where your journey took you. 

Instead, your eyes focused on moths fluttering around one of the strung up lanterns in the tent, and with each passing breath, you slid further from the waking world, hearing “Rest, dear one,” somewhere between life and dreams.