#time to order ANOTHER new charger

[tj-crochets]

So the good news is whatever safety measures are part of my computer charger worked! The bad news is it is no longer a functional charger. It’s a little too melted to work

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Is setting him free a one shot?? cuz I need more bestie😭

Meant To Be || LN4

Follow up to: Setting Him Free || Meant To Be || Yours, Always Summary: If you love someone, set them free; if they come back to you, it was meant to be.

Lando tracked your life through the lens of your camera and what you uploaded to Instagram. He remembered seeing the toll the journey took, sporadic pictures taken between stopovers where you smiled but it never quite reached your eyes. It took you nearly 40 hours to reach your destination and he waited with bated breath for you to finally post that you had safely arrived. 

Lando remembered the first time he saw you tagged in a photo with a stranger, his arm curled around your waist while you laughed happily with no regard to his heart that you still owned completely. It had only been six weeks since you left, yet you were happy in another man’s arms while he still hugged your pillow.

Lando had fallen into a rabbit hole of despair that night until Max came home and turned into a detective and searched for the stranger, finding every social media profile he had.

With a triumphant shout, Max ran into Lando’s room with his laptop and pulled the blankets off his friend’s head. “He’s gay!”

Hope fluttered in his chest as he sat up and snatched the laptop. His eyes scanned the photos and the captions of a man most definitely in love with another man and not you. “He’s gay? Fucking yes, mate! Thank you,” he gushed as he clutched his chest where his heart had started beating erratically at the news.

“Now you can get out of bed and stop moping,” Max stated as he tore the rest of the blankets away and opened the curtains. Lando curled onto his side away from the blinding light with a groan but Max was there, grabbing his ankle and dragging him off the bed. “Come on, you lump of sod, we’re going karting. But, honestly, you need a shower, bro, you stink.”

For a few months Lando found a new contentment with life. He trained, he raced, he hung out with his friends. But every time there was a lull of activity he found himself gravitating back to you. 

“Max, give me her number,” Lando ordered as he busted into the guest room his friend had moved into when you moved out. He had wanted to keep an eye on Lando and Lando, though initially annoyed at being babied, had come to enjoy having the company. 

Max groaned as he saw the time on the clock and wondered why Lando was awake at 3am. “It’s for emergencies. You’re meant to be keeping a distance, mate.”

The weather alerts set up on Lando’s phone had woken him before he darted down the hall to Max’s room.

“This is an emergency,” he rushed, clambering over the bed, kneeing Max in the process, and grabbed his phone off the charger. “There’s a fucking tropical cyclone.”

Max stopped fighting for his phone with a defeated sigh and fell back onto his pillow. “Say hi from me.”

Lando gave an affirmative grunt as he left, the call already starting the dial tone before he reached his room and shut the door.

Your phone had been going off with your family sending worried messages as soon as they heard about the cyclone headed your way. You thought you had finally got them to relax when a call came through, but it was Lando’s contact that appeared.

“Hey, Lan,” you greeted softly after committing to answer the call. “Are you okay?”

“That’s what I was going to ask,” he replied with a gravelly voice, reminding you it was early in the morning where he was. And he was not a morning person at the best of times. “I saw the news.”

“You’re a mother hen, you know.”

He chuckled as it wasn’t the first time you called him that when he worried about you. “I know, only because I have someone to remind me.”

“You really don’t need to worry,” you assured him, though the afternoon skies were much darker than normal as the storm quickly approached. “The locals are used to this and if they’re not concerned then I think it’ll be fine. You know how the news is, they dramatise everything.”

“You’re sure? Do you have supplies just in case power goes out? I can order whatever you need-”

“Lando, stop,” you chided him gently. “You don’t have to buy anything.”

You could imagine him pacing in his room, dodging the mess of clothes on the floor and a half unpacked suitcase from his last trip. You were always the organised one, the one who kept the house tidy while he was busy with work.

“I want to. I want to know you have everything you need, that you are being taken care of. You did that for me for so long, I want to return the favour.”

You rubbed your temples as you tried not to fall back into the place you had been six months ago. But it was hard not to miss him with every fibre of your being when he was the sweetest man you had ever known. “Even if I wanted you to, it’s impossible. They don’t exactly have online shopping on the island.” You giggled at the sound of disbelief that came through the phone. “Our supplies come by boat from the mainland.”

“And that’s your idea of fun?”

“I like the work we do here,” you said with a smile. “Need I remind you that some people like to go vroom vroom around in circles.”

“Har-har.” You could practically hear his eyes rolling around in his head before you heard the shuffle of his sheets as he climbed into bed. “We’re halfway there.”

“You’re not meant to be counting the days,” you reminded him, as though you didn’t have the days marked off on the calendar in your office.

“I tried not to.”

The wind started to pick up, brushing the hibiscus plant against your window with an incessant scraping noise. Then came the pitter-patter of the first drops of rain on the tin roof.

“Me too.” On the other side of the island lightning forked from the gathering clouds and a few seconds later the boom rattled the house. “I should probably go, you should be asleep.”

“Wait,” Lando shouted in your ear. “Just wait, please.”

You knew the delay was only going to make goodbye harder and your throat was already clogging with emotion. “I need to save my battery, Lan.”

“I know, I know.” He sighed and the sound lassoed your heart, slowly choking it as the seconds dragged on. “I just, I want you to know that I love you and I know that in another six months that’s still not going to change. Or a year, or however long it takes for you to do what you need to do.”

“Lan…”

“You don’t have to say it, I know it’s hard.”

“Lan-”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Would you shut up for one second,” you laughed as he rambled on. “I love you too.”

“Please stay safe.”

“I will, but you know it’s cyclone season here. They will be coming every couple of weeks.”

“Then I’ll call you for every single one,” he promised. “Gotta make sure my girl is okay.”

You laughed at his tenacity but quietly revelled in his words. “Good night, Lando, I’m glad you called.”

“I wish I called sooner.”

Click here for the final part.

[kungfubarbie101]

Toy- Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

nsfw/smut, fem!reader, p in v, cunnilingus, light fingering, dom!Ghost, masked/unmasked Ghost

Ghost had entered your room, rummaging through your desk draw in attempt to find a laptop charger since Soap decided to ‘borrow’ his and then never return it. “Fucking hell, where is it….” He said to himself as he slammed the drawer shut, turning to your dresser, pulling open the top drawer to reveal a collection of lingerie.

His eyes had widened, he didn’t expect you having these finds of clothing and was pissed that you haven’t worn any for him. He stared at many pairs of thongs, knee highs, and many more things folded neatly, he lingered his eyes to a pair of sexy red lingerie that caught his eye. He got curious and lifted to outfit, unfolding it to his eye level, smirking, he thought of you wearing it, how skimpy you must look in it, how hot you would look wearing it in front of him before he strips it off of you as he fucks you.

He adjusted his pants. He was about to place them back but another thing had caught his eye, a black object that laid just right underneath of the red lingerie set. “What the fuck is this?” He questioned to himself before placing the lingerie set down and picking up the new item he just found. He held the item, studying it for a second before turning it to see that there was a button on the bottom, he furrowed his eyebrows and pushed it. As he pressed the button the whole thing began to vibrate.

He scoffed in realization. He just had found your vibrator. “For fuck sake (your name).”

Soon after Ghost had found your pervy little item, he decided he was going to ask you about it once you got back. And as you did come back to your room after training, exhausted and ready to relax you noticed that Ghost wasn’t there when he said he was stopping by. You wondered if he must have found what he was looking for and left so you went into your room, setting down your duffel bag and opening the top draw of your draw, as you looked inside you noticed that a pair of your lingerie sets had been misplaced since the last time you saw it.

The red lingerie set that had your vibrator covered, which was missing.

You furrowed your eye brows, rummaging around through your draw to make sure you didn’t misplace it and before you could question yourself you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned seeing Ghost.

“Looking for this?”

Your eyes widened seeing as Ghost had your toy in his fingers, waving it slightly at you. You stood speak less and embarrassed as he began to move closer to you. “Am I just not good enough, (your name)?” He pausing as he took another step forward to you, his tall figure looking down at you. “Do I just….not satisfy your desires?” His thick british accent was stern as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, steadying your breathing before speaking, “Ghost, you know you fill me up with lots of desire….quite often” You replied, your eyes shifting as you spoke, and your cheeks hot. You could almost see that shit eating grin he had on his face through his mask. “If you want pleasure (your name), just say something, call my name.” This made you smirk, shifting slightly leaning into him close to his face as you could get.

“Trust me Ghost, I’ve called you name many times. And I mean many…” Your tone had shifted to nervousness to seductive in a split second. This made Ghost have shivers of arousment go down his spine as you looked up at him with such desire and lust. Eye fucking him at this point. He bit his bottom lip, his eyes not leaving yours. “This toy won’t be needed anymore, you’ve got me, got it?” His sentence wasn’t just a question it was more of an order that if he catches you even rubbing this thing against your pussy to make you cum, he was going to show you who really can make you cum ten times as harder then this stupid toy.

Your knees felt weak, and your heart was fluttering as your stomach was doing back flips. But you couldn’t let him win over this whole teasing gig so you decided to dig deeper.

“You think you can do better?” You tease.

He chuckled at your comment, crossing his arms and pulling away from you. He was taking it as a challenge.

“I most definitely could”

You shook your head, you could tell he was semi offended just how his body language was but you continued on. “Sorry but I really can’t take your word for it….” You walked away from him, sitting at the edge of the bed, motioning him to come over which he gladly did.

“I need you to prove it to me, Simon….”

Oh boy and how that got to him, how you said his name, his actual name mind fucked him. Your ass was going to get fucked well and good.

He walked over closer to you, pushing your body down on the bed with some force. You grinned. His knee went immediately in between your crotch, leaning down into your form, grabbing you by the back of the head causing a groan from you. Your hair tangling in between his fingers, he used his free hand and practically ripping his mask off his face and kissed you hungrily. His dirty blonde hair and blue eyes gleaming in your view, it’s not like you haven’t seen his face before but whenever you do, you can’t help yourself but stare at him in awe.

The tension had grew larger as Ghost reached his hand underneath your shirt, feeling as your nipple poked out from your sports bra, he pinched your nipple through the thinner fabric, making a breathy moan come from you as he dominated your mouth.

You had no control of the situation, none once so ever. He broke the kiss, exploring to your jawline and down your neck, nibbling small marks against your skin. You let a groan slip from your tongue, which seemed to arouse him more.

“Simon….” You muttered under your breath. Running your fingers through his dirty blonde hair, he moved further down your body till he met the zipper of your cargo pants. Unzipping them and eagerly pulling them down your legs. He didn’t hold himself back.

“Shirt off now….” He said sternly.

You followed orders stripping your shirt off immediately. You now just being left in a bra and panties. He stared at your body, taking in every curve. He looked down a saw, lord and behold, you where wearing a thong. He kneeled down, pushing the side of your thong to the side, revealing the spot he was hungrily looking forward to.

He dipped his head down, running his tongue up and down. With every motion and swirl he made your body grew hotter and pleasure building inside of you. He sucked and licked circles around your pulsing clit, not stopping for anything. You gripped the sheets, moaning coming from your mouth was nothing but sweet sweet music for Ghost. You frantically pulled your bra off, your breasts bouncing slightly as they fell from your bra, your nipples hardened.

You felt Ghosts mouth leave your pussy, causing a yern from you until you felt his finger plunge inside of your hole. Your lower body arched, “Fuck!” You yelled, which caused Ghost to quickly cover your mouth. “Soap is in the other room, you be a good girl and be quiet” Ghost told you, making you nod in response before he began with no hesitation to start finger fucking you. “I can’t….” You moaned out, which only made him go faster, his fingering plunging in and out at a rapid pace where you could hardly keep up on.

Those fingers had slipped out of you, being replaced by something thicker and longer.

His dick began to slowly push in and out of you, a whimper leaving your mouth as his dick stretched you out. This aroused him, he began to thrust himself in and out, getting you use to him. “Simon…” You closed your eyes, squinting from the pain. Grabbing your hip, fitting himself all the way deep inside of your pussy. Those soft and slow thrusts quickly became rough pounding. “Oh fuck, (your name)” Ghost let out, he cocked his head back, the way your vagina walls clenched around him was nothing he had felt before, more exotic and exciting to him.

The sounds of skin slapping and shaky moans clouded the both of you as Ghost rutted his dick in you. The force hitting your g-spot at a ruthless pace. He was hungry, his grip became firm, holding you tightly as he fucked you, balls deep into your cunt. His chest heaving and eyes half lidded sent thrill through you, he looked so pretty as he was filled with much pleasure and lust. You were about to cum.

“Simon….I’m close. P-please don’t stop…” You begged between each breath as you moaned for him. Your hips grind against his as your orgasm grew. His pace began to slow which caught you off guard, and before you could even speak he spun you around to your stomach. You loved how dominant he was getting with you, you like you where being controlled.

He reached under your hips, lifting your ass up in the air for him. He placed a palm at the center of your back, pushing your back so your arching for him and you ass perked up. He rubbed his middle finger up your pussy, “God your so soaked (your name)”. He realigned with your hole, easing his dick all the way inside of you. He began to pound inside of you once again, hands gripping at your hips as he did so.

You dug your face into the pillow in front of you, concealing your moans, your fingers gripped the sheets. “(Your name) I’m going to cum….” He breathlessly confessed, followed by low groans. This set you off, “Simon….stay just like that. I’m so close…” You moaned out from the side of the pillow, crying out to him, the mascara you once had on your lashes smearing off.

At the moment you both had came, his semen coding your vagina walls. Heat pulsing and back arching, a wave of crashed over you, your legs trembled at the hard climax. You where basically quivering. Ghost had pulled out of you, almost collapsing on top of you, the pleasure he had just experienced was astronomical. He went and grabbed a damp towel, helping you clean up before he untangled his body with yours, lifting your body on top of his.

“You where right….I’ll come to you then that toy”

This made Ghosts night, but you knew you where going to get shit from Soap in the morning.

[theplumsoldier]

slippery when wet

summary: after a night out, you get home to hear carmy moaning your name. really, was there anything you could do but join him?

pairing: carmy berzatto x roommate!reader

word count: 2,6k

warnings: vulgar language, 18+ MDNI; smut, unprotected sex, soft!carm, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, creampie, brief mention of breeding kink, mention of sex toys (vibrator)

as always feedback is appreciated <3<3

It's ridiculously fucked up, Carmy knows it—but when he literally stumbles over your fucking vibrator what the fuck is he supposed to do?

You've been roommates for quite some time now, you know each other pretty well and Carmen knows his social skills have improved over the last couple of months because of you. You drag him with you wherever you go, whenever he has time, that is. Even when he's tired after a long day, he will let you persuade him to tag along just so that he can hear you say "please" to him. Of course, he would rather you begged him for something else, but you can't have the cake and eat it too. Especially if one (him) can't even grow a pair and fight for it. The cake was you obviously, and Carmen wasn't quite sure when it had begun.

When he looked back, he supposed there might always have been something. After you had moved in (he'd gotten a new apartment with more space and this beautiful newly renovated kitchen, but he needed a roommate in order to afford it) he'd been surprised to find that you didn't just want to move in—you wanted a friend in your new roommate as well. You would plan movie nights, game nights, and such, wanting it to be more than just a place to live with a stranger. You wanted it to be somewhere you lived with a good friend, a place to call home. He was skeptical, to begin with, as was his custom with new experiences, with new people. Carmen knew his restaurant required his full attention and was therefore unsure he could satisfy your wish, giving you a friend, but after just one night of getting to know one another, Carmen found himself going out of his way to find the time to spend some with you.

Flash forward to now, this second, where Carmen stood paralyzed in your room, frozen in place as if he had accidentally glared into the eyes of Medusa—it was no Greek goddess though, just a regular pink vibrator with a fucking sucker-mouth. His cock was straining in his pants as the toy painted pretty little pictures in his head—fuck. All of this because he let you boss him and tell him to get your charger.

You had vacuumed the apartment earlier—that's why you couldn't get it, you said, because you had already put your shoes on. Now he wondered if you had meant for him to find it.

You must have, he reasoned, looking around like a deer in headlights, an anxious expression already on his face as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't. He wasn't though, right? He was getting your charger, per your request—it wasn't his fault you had left your charger right beside the one that was charging your fucking vibrator.

Before he knew it, he was reaching down, pulling the charger from the vibrator, and inspected it closer. Carmen wanted to turn it on, feel how it vibrated, how it sucked, but he was afraid the noise might be loud enough for you to hear. Luckily he didn't, for before he knew it you called for him, asking what was taking him so long.

In a fright he threw it on the bed, covered it under pillows and the comforter, before retrieving your charger and met you by the door.

"Thanks. Y'ready?"

. . .

When you got home at around 3 in the night, you were not nearly as tired as you were when you had left the club. Carmen had left while you were still at the bar, excusing himself with his job—he didn't have to go back to the restaurant until the evening, but you didn't blame him. He wasn't a very social creature and you were just glad he had agreed to come along in the first place.

Sadly, your bit of fun for the night ended with Carmen's leave. Your friends coerced you into clubbing instead, insisting the bar was foul-smelling and boring. You figured it might help you get over the loss of Carmy, but after spilled drinks, men crossing lines and the DJ playing shit-music, you decided it was time to retire as well.

But now, as you stepped inside the dimly lit apartment, you felt wide awake. You wondered if Carmen was still awake or if he had just left them on for you. His door was slightly ajar, but he always slept with it closed. You decided that he probably had dozed off when he'd gotten home, forgetting his usual habits.

You quietly moved around, being careful not to make any noise as you grabbed a glass of water and traipsed back to your bedroom.

Not bothering to move under the covers to comfortably settle in, you laid on top of your bed when you felt something poke at your back. It was your vibrator.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, for you thought you had let it charge after earlier. When you had been using it, the battery quit on you and it wasn't exactly difficult retracing your steps, because you recalled being unable to reach your high without it. Looking back, you supposed that had been why you had found yourself shamelessly eye-fucking Carmy all night at the bar—ever since moving in you had thought he was attractive, but you had never had any trouble keeping your eyes to yourself when your mind began to wander.

Carmy had been in here, when he got your charger for you before you left. Your eyes widened at the thought and your breath got caught in your throat—he had not only seen it, he had picked it up, too.

Although you were flustered, your couldn't help but imagine how it had played out. Had he picked it up because he was dense and didn't realize what it was? Had he thought about you using it on yourself? Or had he maybe thought about using it on you? Did it make him horny? Had his cock pressed against his pants the same way it did some mornings when he wore sweatpants?

Your thighs rubbed together to relieve the wave that followed the thought, but in the following moment you heard something from Carmen's room.

You wanted to think your mind was playing games, making you think you were indeed hearing what you had already slithered your hand down your pants to help imagine, but you swore it was, in fact, a moan.

It should make you turn over, slide under the covers, go to sleep, and enforce a little privacy. But you just couldn't help yourself. The sound went straight to your core, vibrating through your head, trying to recall the exact pitch of Carmy's moan. You needed to hear it again. Before you knew it, you were sneaking through the hall, treading carefully as to not make a sound.

You weren't sure what you would do. He might just be asleep, moaning and groaning through his dreams: whatever they might be. As you approached his door, you felt something twitch in you as you heard heavy breathing, panting even. Then a curse left his lips and there was not a single doubt about it now—Carm was jerking off.

Hearing your name fall from his lips, you were suddenly seized by an impulse and let the door to his room open further, leaning against the doorframe. Carmen was struck by surprise, but quickly recovered and pulled the comforter to cover his proud cock.

His face was flushed, even in the dark your could see the redness in his cheeks and chest. Lips parted, between heaving breathing and meaning to speak, wobbling worriedly.

"Don't mind me," you spoke gently.

Striding over there, you slid a finger from his calf to the exposed upper thigh as you tiptoed closer to him, making the air around him all the more hot and heavy as he stared, dumbstruck.

"Were you thinkin' about me, Carmy?"

His face was warm with shame and he tried to form a response, but his voice failed him and clawed its way back down his throat, hiding in embarrassment. Instead, he gulped, feeling his cock still throbbing under the cover.

"'S okay, Carm," you told him, eyes softly scanning over his body as your finger traced small circles where it had come to rest on his thigh. You could feel his muscles ripple beneath the skin and you massaged the flesh with the ball of your palm. "Don't get all shy on me now."

"I—I didn't hear—didn't know you were ba—back already."

You chuckled lightly, fingers skimming the edge of his comforter, but not yet pulling to reveal any more of his body. "Heard you moan my name—I couldn't stop myself, Carmy... Wanted to hear you again."

Carmen felt his jaw clench in anticipation. He had imagined you in several scenarios, many of which portrayed this one deliciously—you finding him like this, flustered, fisting his cock as he pathetically whined your name. It was his favorite, but the fantasy did not compare to reality as you actually stood there, towering above him with a look in your eyes just asking, pleading to take care of him.

The whole night had been like this for him, ever since finding your pretty pink vibrator—a palpable intensity air between you, electric strings bringing you together all the while your similar poles made you repel, shared gazes saying more than words could ever express. Carm had been horny as shit all day.

"Tell me what you were thinking 'bout, Carmy."

He mustered enough courage to take your dwarfed hand in his and guide it over his cock, showing you just what you did to him. It felt like torture to not feel your palm on his cock, and it the pining feeling intensified when you massaged it through the textile, just like you had with his naked thigh.

Encouraged by his guiding hand, heaving chest, ticked jaw and furrowed brows, you leaned down and kissed the spot below his ear, applying more pressure to his cock.

"Saw you found my vibrator, Carmy. S'that what you were thinkin' about, hm?" You nibbled on his earlobe and couldn't help but chuckle as he needily bucked his hips up, using his hand to practically squash his cock into your palm. "You can't imagine how many times I've fucked myself with that fuckin' handle, just hopin' you'd come in and replace it with your cock."

Another string of curses left his lips. In a matter of seconds, Carm grabbed you by your hand and pried it off his cock only to flip you over and mount you.

With his entirely naked body hovering yours, you suddenly felt very overdressed. Though you had rid yourself of the pants and bra you had worn earlier, you were not nearly bare enough.

Your talk had pushed him too far, it seemed, and he wasn't about to let a flimsy pair of underwear stop him from wrecking you, and fuck—he was going to wreck you.

It was as if he gained a wave of confidence when moving your panties to the side, and lined his weeping head with your folds, feeling the slick having amassed.

"Fuckin' hell," Carmy groaned, loving how you lubricated him. Then he felt a sudden pang of guilt, smelling the alcohol on your breath. He would hate to wake up in the morning, knowing he had taken advantage of your state and you would later regret it. But you had said you had thought of him, like he had of you, many times. Carmy cupped the side of your face in his palm and made eye contact. "You sure about this?"

You knew it was because of the alcohol, because you had never shown an interest, because you were roommates and would have to see each other again tomorrow. It was no situation either of you could possibly make light of—the consequences would be dealt with in the morning. The truth was, if there was anything you were unsure about, it was the fact that you knew you'd be better able to fuck him sober. The alcohol gave you courage, but sobriety gave you focus—guess you'd just have to fuck him in the morning too.

"Yes, Carm—now fuck me or lose me."

Yes chef.

He had imagined this many times: he would carefully slide in, melt into you and feel every crevice on his way, but reality turned out to be far from it. When his cock first dipped into your wet cunt, a single shuddered moan left his lips before he pulled out, and he couldn't stop himself.

In no time he had set a rhythmic but furious pace, placing his hands right above your shoulders as leverage, keeping you in place so that he might fuck hungrily into you, just like he had with his fist. But this felt so much better, you felt so much better, hugging him, squeezing him and somehow sucking him in while your contracting pussy pushed him out.

When he looked down at you, you were already staring at him with bleary, hooded eyes, the ghost of a crease wrinkling your brows in pure pleasure.

Your mind had warped somewhere outside this plane of existence, somewhere colors and sounds and smells finally touched, mixing into an ethereal feeling of everything good in the world. When Carmy finally clashed his lips to yours, you were pulled back, cascading into his grasp and you chanted his name like he was your God. You were desperate for release, seeing as your vibrator had failed to help you much earlier. The orgasm had been building up all night, only fueled by Carmy's hungry looks at the bar.

Carm, ever the gentleman, put his focus on bringing you over the edge. Your eyes said more than the incomprehensible sentences you tried to form.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, he knew what to do when your hips involuntarily thrust upward. Your slippery wetness joined with his movements meant his thumb slipped over your clit instead of drawing the circles he had intended. Your slack jaw and glossy eyes revealed to him his attentiveness was sufficient and he continued his deft handiwork, encouraging you.

"I got you. I got you. Lemme feel you, baby—"

And he did and he hoped to God it would not be the last time. The wanton sounds you emitted, along with the pornographic noises of skin slapping skin—he knew he couldn't hold out much longer. Not with his balls vigorously tapping against your ass, not with you clenching him so deliciously, not with a dream coming true.

Your spasms seized and it became your turn to beg him: "Fill me up, Carmy! Want—fuck! Wanna feel you fill me up!"

He had always been good at taking orders, and with you he happily obliged. Although the thought made a scare flash in his mind for a millisecond, it also made his cock twitch and he was surprised when he spilled into you with a loud groan. Carmen wasn't sure whether it was your begging for his cum or your begging for him to come in you, but he fucked you through his orgasm, pushing back the idea of a newfound kink.

While Carmen went limp beside you, you pulled his head to the crook of your neck and calmed his breathing by threading your fingers through his curls. He didn't mean to, but he became incredibly drowsy after that, and he must have fallen asleep there, in your arms, at some point, but not before he wearily made out the praise you offered him: "So good f'me, Carmy. So good."

[goldsbitch]

That next Christmas flight

epilogue p.1 to That one Christmas flight

summary: Few months down the line, Y/N is getting onto the same Christmas flight as a completely changed girl.

warning: cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely

Another Christmas flight. Traditions linger long and strong no matter how much one tries to resist. It's been a year precisely since the last flight that had turned her life upside down and Y/N found herself standing at the same airport where she shared a first kiss with Lando. Except this time she was thrown off for a completely less glamorous reason, sitting all confused and looking at the cancelled note next to her flight number on the departure board. She was just one of the other anxious annoyed passangers, trying to figure out how to get to Japan on time. Her mom hated when people were late. And she was sure she'll find a way to blame it on her. Bad planning, she'd always say. Love comes in different flavors to anyone, Y/N sighed, looking forward to seeing her mom after so many months, which had brought a rollercoaster of unexpected emotions.

She has had the summer of her life, hard to imagine something topping this one. The ultimate love affair - exciting, sweet and eye opening. Made her question everything she thought about adult life. All those love song suddenly made sense. She understood why people do crazy things for love. There wasn't a cell in her body regretting getting her summer and early September got stolen by one guy. It would not have mattered if he was a server from a local café or a tattoo artist, he just happened to be one of the most famous racing drivers on the planet. She had followed him around his trips as long as her school schedule allowed, making new friends in the process and generally exploring a different way of life. Sometimes, she had to stop in order to take it all in, because his world shined just a little too bright. It took all of her free time to keep up. Once summer rolled to its very end, it started being harder for the pair. Coming back to the school environment was somewhat of a culture shock and suddenly her having her own life was making it harder to drop everything and meet him at yet another race track around the world. Their schedules seemed to be working against each other. Late night cuddles turned into late night / morning calls. Summer romance got a real hard test that October and was forced to mature real quick. And sadly, very few love affairs manage to survive this leap.

There are little things that people in love do for each other. One does not often realize that the other person had been doing these mundane gestures until they are out of sight. Lando would always put Y/N's airpods on the charger when they were together, because he knew that she would just never do that and then would complain about it endlessly. He was even looking forward to the annoyed text she'd send him two days after they parted, almost on the clock. Y/N never learned. Nor did she want to.

Y/N airpods were sitting in the pocket of her coat. Fully charged. Lando and Y/N had never spent more time together than this winter break. After few rough weeks, they got used to the changing tone of their relationship. She finally met his family and spent few very fun days at their house. Lando made fun of her afterwards, because she had been so nervous to fuck it up. He never doubted that she would do a good impression - he loved too much to think that.

Pair of hands hugged her from behind and the familiarity kicked in.

"Thought you got lost, honey," she greeted her boyfriend and potentially the love of her life (spoiler alert - yes, he really was).

"I actually kind of did, I'm sure there must be a bathroom closer that all the way back that hallway," he said, kissing her cheek softly. She was taking him home to Japan to get him introduced to her mom, which made him the proudest guy at that airport. He was worthy of getting introduced and to him, that was the biggest compliment one could give. It had been quite a hectic Christmas break for Lando so far, if he were to be honest, he was happy to get few hours alone with Y/N. On the outside, he was this cool racer chill dude. But he was also a sappy romantic, absolutely insisting on having them celebrate their anniversary on the same flight. Y/N grounded him, kept him at bay in the best way possible. He felt like the best version of himself. Which was also what he told her when they almost broke up over the phone one confusing November night. Their relationship was cut with difficult conversations and the need to untangle things, but it was strangely something Lando loved about their relationship. No stones left untouched, caring so much about each other that any shift in energy was a signal to the other party. Y/N taught him to notice things. He pushed her into making her feelings known.

"My love, our flight is cancelled for today," she said softly, not really knowing what to do. Lando usually had his travel booked by the team, so he was surprisingly not very skilled in booking things anymore. But he longed for any possibility to be the hero that saved the day, so he got to the counter and got them on tomorrow's flight, with an overnight at a hotel.

Y/N let out a sigh once he told her that there is currently no other option. She just wanted to be at her mom's place and show Lando off, like a proper proud girlfriend she was.

"I'm sorry, honey," he said, caressing her cheek. "I'll make sure you have an absolutely amazing evening with me, ok? Honestly, getting to spend an extra night with you alone is the best thing I could wish for." She looked at him and there was not a single cell in her body that would doubt what he was telling her. Even after months, every time Lando looked at her, her heart skipped a beat. Every time he embraced her, she completely melted. His skin still felt like the softest thing on this planet. His eyes were the bluest of green that had her mesmerised whenever he shared a glance at her. "There is nothing better I could wish for Christmas either," she said, kissing him softly. "Let's get to the hotel, give your mom a quick call, order a champagne and cuddle without letting anyone else know we're still in England," he whispered like a little devil on her shoulder.

"Hm, maybe we can cuddle like really fast," she insunuated, setting Lando's imagination on fire.

"I have many ideas, honey."

"Good, write them down."

"This will hardly ever skip my mind," Lando laughed lightly and the pair took off, with him having his shoulder around her, both of them hiding their faces under a cap. They soft launched their relationship in the middle of the summer, but there was still a cloud of mystery around Y/N, as she had made sure to set her socials on private. No more of a little secret hidden in a hotel room. Still, privacy was an important thing to the pair, that's why there was a whole fake social media trip happening for Lando right now to redirect attention.

So there they were, toasting with the same champagne a year later, lives intertwined and with their own set of Christmas traditions forming. Two young people with souls still undamaged by the tragedies of life, two young people not realizing how light and magical part of their life they got to call today and tomorrow. Next time you're flying somewhere, don' be a chicken and talk to your hot neighbor on the plane. You never know.

____________________________________________

personal note: thank you so much for all the support you guys gave me for this one, it has grown into my favorite story so far - mainly because I got to put in my own memories and feelings from when I accidentally started dating a semi famous sports guy while having no idea who he was, lol. it was in no way lando level kind of famous, but still, it is a great memory, so thank you for reliving it with me.

there will be blurbs of these two coming in the future, but i wanted to tie the main story to an end. but I can't wait to write more, so i'll be more than happy if you come back for some snap shots of their little moments. thank you - smutty epilogue p2. is on the way

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak  @ophcelia @leclerc13 @starmanv @k4r1402 @biitch-with-wifi @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @starmanv @formulaal @scenesofobx

[raina-at]

I owe you another ficlet, so here it is. It was written for the brekfast challenge, and I think there's a longer story in this, so maybe I'll return to this one day. Meanwhile, have a ficlet.

It’s been eleven days since Sherlock Holmes jumped off a building. Three days since the funeral. One since John stood by Sherlock’s grave and begged him not to be dead.

There’s a constant fog of unreality in John’s head. The world seems muffled, far away, slowed down. He has a difficult time telling day from night, dream from waking, truth from fiction. 

The worst thing is the numbness. There’s a well of pain right inside John somewhere, but he can’t feel it. He can’t feel much of anything. 

Mrs Hudson sobbed into his shoulder at Sherlock’s funeral, but John has yet to shed a single tear. He knows it’s self-protection, that something inside of himself has shut down to prevent him from breaking. 

It’s not pleasant, but it keeps him alive. Barely. 

He forces himself to eat when people are around, and he gets a few hours of fitful sleep, but he’s losing weight rapidly and the dark circles around his eyes are getting more pronounced. Nobody’s said anything to him yet, but he knows it’s a matter of time before he’ll get a kindly-meant intervention from Greg, Molly and Mrs Hudson.

He thinks of leaving. Just getting on a train or plane or boat and disappearing somewhere he can waste away in peace. The thought is comforting.

But he knows today will not be this day when he gets a text from Mycroft Holmes summoning him to a breakfast meeting at a coffee shop around the corner of the Diogenes club.

John knows it’s pointless to refuse.

So he goes. It’s a nice day, and he walks. 

He gets there ten minutes late, but Mycroft isn’t here. He gets in line to order a coffee and a scone. If he’s here already he might as well eat. 

He orders, then waits for the barista to make his coffee.

She seems vaguely familiar. Red hair, freckles, tattoos. 

“John?”

He looks up. She smiles at him. Hands over his drink. Holds his eyes. “Here,” she says, winking at him. “I think this is what you asked for.”

He looks down at the cup and sees she’s put her phone number down. He smiles politely. He couldn’t be less interested if he tried.

“Don’t call right away,” she says, winking again, then turns to the next customer.

Mycroft isn’t here yet, so John decides he doesn’t want to wait and leaves.

He sips at the coffee as he wanders back to Baker Street.

The coffee has grown cold by the time he’s back in the flat. He wanders into the kitchen to throw the cup out.

That’s when he notices there’s writing under the phone number.

John

07975777666

And below that, in a handwriting he’d recognise blind, backwards and under water, two words:

Vatican Cameos

The cup hits the floor as John’s knees buckle.

The coffee seeps into the kitchen rug as John stares at the cup, at the two words. He thinks of the barista. He recognises her now. She was one of the people who held him back from Sherlock’s body when he fell.

It takes him ten minutes to realise that he’s crying, that the tears are falling freely now, that the knot of numbness and pain in his chest is finally dissolving. He’s shaking with it, with big, heaving sobs that shiver through his entire body. 

Alive, alive, alive.

Mrs Hudson finds him there, sobbing and shaking on his knees, and she holds him while he cries.

She thinks it’s grief.

He knows it’s relief.

*-*

It’s midnight and he can’t stand it any longer.

He tore the flat apart looking for the Adler woman’s phone because he knows he can’t use his own. His charger wouldn’t fit, so he had to go out and buy a new one, and then let the bloody thing charge.

It’s better this way, anyway.

It’s dark and he’s sitting in Sherlock’s bedroom, on the floor next to Sherlock’s bed.

His hands shake as he dials the number. 

Maybe he’s delusional. 

Maybe the barista just wanted to mess with him.

Maybe nobody will answer.

It rings. He’s nauseous with nerves, shaking with anticipation.

If this isn’t real…. He can’t even think about it.

The line picks up.

A voice he’d recognise anywhere. Uncharacteristically hesitant. “John?”

John’s breath hitches and he lets out a laugh that’s mostly a sob. “Oh, you unbelievable bastard.”

There’s a small smile in the voice as it answers. “You asked me for another miracle. How am I doing so far?”

John smiles through the tears that are running down his face unchecked and unheeded. “Pretty well.”

“I just wanted to let you know…. I heard you,” Sherlock says, quiet and gentle, in a tone of voice that makes John's heart hurt. “I heard you.”

“Sherlock-”

“I have to go. But I’ll come for you soon. Wait for me.”

The line goes dead.

John stares at the phone for a long time. Wondering if any of this is real.

Finally, he nods at himself. I believe in Sherlock Holmes, he thinks. He always has, and he always will. 

In the meantime, he will wait. 

That makes 31 ficlets, making my collection complete. This was so much fun, thank you all for reading and liking my ficlets, I've had such lovely responses.

Tagging a few people.

@calaisreno @discordantwords @keirgreeneyes @jrow @peanitbear @lisbeth-kk @shiplocks-of-love @iamjustreading @the-reading-lemon @thetimemoves @fluffbyday-smutbynight @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @catlock-holmes @7-percent @khorazir

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 4

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, panic attacks, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 3k

ao3 link

Masterlist

The place they were currently staying was called Haven. 

She hadn’t understood the first few times, had thought they were saying that this place was a haven for them in this fight. 

It didn’t feel like a haven to her. 

Haven was a lot of things. 

She was told there had been important things here, years ago. Some sort of religious symbol. She’d been told about it like it would mean something to her. Very little that they said meant anything to her, but at least usually it was about things in current times that might actually affect her, not just legends of some artifact long gone. 

It was also allegedly a home, a place where they could seek refuge. If that was what it was, she thought she would probably hate it less than she did. 

The cold was the first thing she took grievance with. She’d had to pull strings and call in favors to get enough furs to be able to survive the cold, let alone feel anything close to alright in it. 

Everything was so far apart too, insisting you go out in the cold in order to get anywhere. 

There was also the matter of how open it was. She was accustomed to squirreling herself away, letting her existence fade into the back of people’s mind when she did not need anything from them. 

Even as an important figure for this group she’d stumbled into, she thought she’d be able to hide on occasion if it weren’t for the fact that there was no way to move in the open space against stark, white snow without drawing the attention of everyone within a mile radius. 

Haven was a lot of things. Easily defensible was not one of them. So when the enemy came, seeking the power that had embedded itself into her palm, there was little they could do. 

When the first chance to flee presented itself, she took it, running through old paths half remembered by some chantry member who’d been there far longer than they had. 

She’d immediately taken the side of abandoning it all. This place was worth nothing to her, less than nothing even. 

And so they fled. 

They were out before the army could even really draw close. 

Cole was nowhere to be found as Haven was taken, as their sanctuary was razed to the ground. 

They escaped into the mountains, where it was somehow impossibly colder than Haven was. She was glad she’d been layered in her furs, half convinced she’d have frozen to death by now if she hadn’t. Every time she saw one of the chantry folk in their robes she would wonder how they could be standing and moving around like they were. Even in as many layers as she had, her hands were frozen solid, planted firmly between her thighs trying to sap some heat from the rest of her. 

She saw a layer of frost developing on Cullen’s armor and shivered sympathetically. She hadn’t even considered how cold the metal would get in temperatures far below freezing. 

Him and Cassandra seemed completely unphased by this, instead bickering about something in the corner. Josephine and Leliana quickly joined them, all fighting about something.

They kept trying to draw her into the conversation and get her to make choices. She steadfastly refused, bundled up on a crate under a hastily constructed overhang, trying to avoid the snow that lay in both directions. 

She did a silent head count as she sat there. Bull came over and ruffled her hair affectionately, leaving her another blanket before heading off to help his Chargers. 

She saw Solas stomping around and groaned internally, wishing that he’d been left behind somehow. 

Varric smiled at her in the distance, off helping some stragglers alongside Blackwall.

Some new mage was there, and Cullen came over to inform her that his name was Dorian and he’d warned them of the coming attack. 

She gave him a polite wave and then went back to ignoring him. 

The only person she recognized who was missing was Cole. 

It was too much to hope that he was permanently gone. It was not unheard of for him to disappear for long stretches of time. She was sure he would be back, sooner rather than later. 

But still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be able to find them, out there in the mountains, where even the monster that had come to hunt them couldn’t seem to find any trace of their army. 

She wondered even more so when they found this new home. 

Skyhold, someone had called it, she was fairly certain.

She shouldn’t have wanted to see him there. He was a nuisance more than anything. 

And yet she found herself looking in dark corners and seeing if that vacant look would show up in anyone’s eyes as they got that nagging feeling that they’d forgotten something after Cole left them a little better off.

She wondered if maybe she’d begun forgetting him. 

She wasn’t sure why Cole hadn’t made her forget it all already. It would make things easier for him.

But then again, he seemed a lot less concerned with ease than she was.

No, making things easy and safe was never something Cole wanted. 

Part of her thought that he did it very intentionally. That one of two things was happening. That either he wanted her to remember all the threats, to make her careful, or worse, he thought remembering him might help her. 

But she didn’t want to think about that so she stamped it down deep inside her. 

And then, one day, a week into moving into Skyhold, she saw him. He was up on the battlements that lay on the edge of their new castle. He was perched on an overhang with no one else looking up at him. 

She could see him. She wondered if she was the only one who could or if it was simply that no one had bothered to check. 

Either was acceptable, so long as no one questioned him too much. With the secrets he’d gathered, she’d prefer if no one but her ever noticed him again. 

Because that was the problem. He needed her alive, but somehow he hadn’t seemed to realize that he didn’t need her safe and happy, didn’t need her in a position of power. 

Just alive.

She wondered why he hadn’t plucked the thought right out of her head the way he had so many others. 

She didn’t expect to see him again for a while after that. He seemed more than content to lurk in the shadows on his own, far less friendly than he used to be. She stopped looking for him at all after she saw that he’d found his way to Skyhold. 

It was unbecoming to look for him like this. 

The next time she saw signs of him, he wasn’t actually present. There was a small pastry on her bed with a little nineteen piped atop it, one she recognized instantly. She’d been given one just like it on her birthday years ago, a lower number written across the top then, though she could barely remember what it was. The years all blended together. She’d been given it by someone who’d thought they were doing something nice. She supposed in that way it was a perfect mimicry.  

It probably meant it was her birthday. 

It turned her stomach to look at it. Even if it hadn’t been tied to a wretched man, it reminded her of her march towards undesirability, closer to losing the only thing protecting her.

She picked it up and disposed of it immediately, trying to purge the thought of it from her mind. 

Cole graced her presence a few hours later. “I didn’t mean it to hurt,” he said, her heart skipping a beat as he appeared out of nowhere. “It was your birthday and I saw it. I thought it might help. It’s hard to tell with you, everything is so tangled in the hurt.”

“Fine,” she spat. “Next time you’re not sure, just leave it alone.”

“I don’t know how to help.”

“That’s why you should leave it. Since when do you try to help me anyway? What happened to me causing the hurt and you wishing you could kill me.”

“I can’t kill you. I should still do something.”

“There is nothing you can do for me,” she said, not even angry at him. It was simply true, a fact that she was informing him of. She was beyond helping. “Focus on people who might actually appreciate it, alright?”

She didn’t wait for a response before storming off. 

Two weeks passed before she saw him again. He’d taken her advice and left her alone and she was better for it. 

And then, in two weeks, Bull’s eyes got vacant in that familiar way that she’d come to understand meant Cole had helped him and she got mad. 

It usually didn’t matter, when anger overtook her. It wasn’t like she was allowed to let anyone see. 

But Cole had caused this, and she could be angry at Cole all she liked. Nothing she could do would make him buy into the meek girl everyone else saw so she could be as mad at him as she wanted. 

So she went to see Cole. 

She didn’t know where to look but it was like he knew she was looking. He showed up for her so quickly and she wondered if maybe he didn’t realize how upset she was.

“You helped him,” she shouted, accusationally. “You helped Bull. You know what he’s done! How could you do that?”

“He doesn’t know he’s done anything. It’s a mistake. You could tell him and he would stop.”

She was fully aware that she was being unfair and it did nothing to stop her. “You know it’s not that simple.”

“You hurt people,” he said softly. “And you deserve help.”

“It’s not the same,” she insisted.

“No, it’s not. You know you’re hurting them.”

Her breath came in stuttery and she hated that this was affecting her, that she couldn’t even be angry properly. “I’m doing what I have to. I don’t have another choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he said, irritatingly and never-endingly inexpressive. She couldn’t read him, not even a little, and yet he could peer directly into her head like it was nothing. 

It just wasn’t fair.

“Shut up,” she hissed. 

“You can be mad if it dims the hurt,”

It made her ten times as angry to be given permission to be mad. 

She picked up the thing nearest to her, some dusty book someone had forgotten about, and threw it at him. 

He dodged it easily, without even thinking. 

She stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her as hard as she could. The sound of it echoed through the stone hall. It didn’t make her feel any better. 

She left without Cole the next day. 

They were heading to a desert somewhere to go close rifts. Solas had begged her to look for elven artifacts and she’d promised him they would and then immediately disposed of the request mentally. 

She’d brought that new mage with her, Dorian she was pretty sure his name was. 

He seemed lovely by nature of his greatest virtue, not being Solas. 

Bull offered to tag along. He never seemed to stop offering lately and she didn’t have the energy to shut him down, so he came too. 

Blackwall also went with them, just by nature of being in the armory when they were suiting up to head out. She didn’t mind. He was a good shield and endlessly noble, set on ensuring she didn’t get hurt. 

He seemed distressed over how young she looked, not enticed by her like some of the other men in the Inquisition were. It didn’t matter to her, as long as he kept her safe. 

It was a quiet affair. Dorian was a chatty one, trying endlessly to strike up conversation, but neither she nor Blackwall would take the bait, just stomping through the desert. 

Bull tried to engage him in conversation but Dorian was not fond of Qunari so that devolved quickly. She didn’t pay too much attention, more than content just kicking up sand as she walked. 

A few hours into wandering the hot desert, they found a rift. It was hard to hide from the chaos of the battle in a desert, with far too few things to cower behind until it was all over. She just hunkered down as best she could and trusted her companions. 

She was looking away when a stray spell from that new mage hit her, the bolt of light embedding itself into her shoulder, searing pain shooting through her. 

She yelped, curling in further on herself in an attempt to make herself small. 

It felt like an eternity before it was over. 

Dorian rushed over, apologies spilling out of his mouth as his hand pressed into the wound. 

She flinched away from his touch as it made the wound sting worse. Blackwall went to lift her up before Bull pushed past him, hauling her into his arms. 

She wished Blackwall had been allowed to do it. 

She barely paid attention to anything but the pain as they made their way back to Skyhold. 

It did occur to her that with anyone else, they’d just push through this injury, take a health potion, bandage it up, and keep on going. She wouldn’t even have thought twice about it, except for when she had to feign sympathy. 

She was dropped off at the medical tent at Skyhold and the three men were shooed away, the woman there insisting that they really did not have enough space for three grown men, one of them a Qunari at that, to be loitering. 

They got her fixed up pretty quickly. It wasn’t too severe an injury, all things considered, necromantic spells just tended to leave a lingering bone-deep ache that other types of magic didn’t. 

It would last a long time, she was told. She might feel it when it was about to rain, told like it was a joke that she’d be stuck with this pain, rolling in with the thunder. 

She was given something for the pain when she asked, and she was sure she only got it because she was the Inquisitor overreacting to something that wouldn’t have phased any other soldier. 

And then she was sent back to her room, the tent too busy with actual injuries to deal with her any longer, even if she was a girl who’d stumbled into a leadership position.

Any other leader would have given up their cot immediately, insisted that the medical care go to people who really, truly needed it. She just grabbed her pain medicine and left. 

She should have gone to see Bull and milked this injury for all it was worth. Maybe stop by Blackwall if she couldn’t stomach that, or guilt trip Dorian a little without letting him realize that was what she was doing. 

She returned to her room instead, set on doing it in the morning, knowing she couldn’t avoid it forever. 

But for tonight, at least, she could rest. 

Cole was standing beside her bed when she reached her room and she considered throwing something at him again, like he was a wild animal she could scare off. 

He whipped around, eyes darting down to her bandaged shoulder and then back up to her face. 

“You don’t mind it,” he said. “It means they’ll leave you alone and it means they think you’re small so you don’t mind.”

“I don’t like getting hurt,” she responded. “I don’t know where you got that from.”

“You don’t like it, but it’s easier. You like it when it’s easy. And you don’t mind this hurt quite as much.”

She shrugged, opening her little bottle of pain medication. “Can I just go to bed please?”

“Can I have some,” he asked, staring the bottle down.

“Why?” she asked, already knowing the answer the endlessly selfless spirit would give. “Are you hurt?”

“The pain claws at them, years gone but still in them, like shards of swords lingered. Some nights they want to claw it out but there’s nothing there to take.”

“So what, you’re going to drug people? I’m sure that will go over well, a bunch of soldiers who don’t know their inhibitions are off.”

He paused, seeming to really consider that. “I’ll make sure they know. Remember the medicine, don’t remember me.”

“Fine,” she said, emptying half of it out. “Take some. You just can’t give it to Bull.”

She knew exactly what she was doing. She was picking a fight. 

He just looked sad. 

“I won’t stop helping,” he said. “But I don’t want you to feel sick.”

“I always feel sick,” she said, verging dangerously close to honesty. She couldn’t afford that, not even with Cole. Anything else had been a lapse in judgment. 

His face fell. “Not because of me. Never because of me.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.”

“I won’t give them to Bull,” he declared. “I will help him away from you, do my best to soothe the hurt where you can’t see.”

It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. She shouldn’t even be mad. “Whatever,” she said with a huff.

“It does matter,” he said. “All of it matters. I didn’t think it did, but you’re a person alongside the bad and the hurt burrows in you. It’s not inside you, not fully. The rot can be cut out.”

“You won’t be cutting anything out of me.”

“I didn’t think I would, but it matters that you could. The rot is a part, not the whole.”

And she couldn’t stay mad, her already flimsy reasons collapsing in on themselves. He was wrong, but it meant something to her that he believed. Maybe just for tonight that could be enough. 

She didn’t have to say as much. He was gone as soon as the thought crossed her mind, leaving her to finally get some sleep.

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Pomposo

Chapter Fourteen

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam, Dean/Jo, John/Kate, Adam, Ellen, Garth/Bess (in passing), Cas and Mary (mentioned)

Word Count: 4559

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining. MORE BACKSTORY AHEAD, story takes place currently in Dec 2017, flashback to Jan. 2004 in italics, talk of Sam's past use of hard drugs, hangovers, vomit, car accidents, injuries, character death, guilt, John was not so great a parent or husband, some paraphrasing of last chapter unbeta'd

Special shout out to @thoughtslikeaminefield who helped immensely on sorting out the backstory for this chapter too, way back when I started outlining this thing.

Series Masterlist

Sam settled on some old school soul music to start their road trip and Dean couldn’t even come up with a reason to complain. Aretha sang in the background and they headed east, the world was their oyster and all that. Dean held onto the small bit of smug satisfaction from the interview with Meg as the city disappeared behind them. She really wanted him to crack, but he hadn't and that gave him some hope for going home.

They veered north for a bit and continued on I-40 until they hit Flagstaff. Dean liked the mountains, the air was infinitely better than LA and there was something about spending the holidays where it got cold that made sense. Unfortunately, it was just an overnight stay. How they managed a room in the first hotel they tried, he’d never know. He just shuffled in with his duffel bag and his ball cap over his now sleep-sloppy hair. There was a player-piano in the lobby and Dean had the fleeting thought about how Cas was spending the holidays.

Maybe he’d try and leave him another message, it had been months.

Sam called Madison after dinner and Dean decided to check out the amenities in order to not have to watch Sam get all goopy. Dean hadn’t packed a bathing suit, but a gym’s a gym even if it’s just three treadmills, a stair climber and free weights. So, he jogged for a little bit, watching whatever passed for news. He forgot his earbuds in the room and it really wasn’t worth going back for, he was finding his groove even without music as a buffer to the world around him.

After a solid 5k, Dean stepped down to stretch. Which worked out because a couple in their fifties came in just as he started some curls, leaving the treadmills open for their evening stroll. They talked about their family, the wife explaining what she got each of their grandchildren and where they were supposed to be on which day. Perfectly normal people conversation, but something about it made Dean sad, so he tried to tune them out and focus on his reps.

Part of his life after Cain and Alistair was a loss of gym time. Sure, he could work out at home or even do laps around the neighborhood, but it wasn’t the hours in the ring or at the bag or with a jump rope full-body-punishment that he had worked himself up to. It was also a lot more peaceful, less reactionary. And Dean decided he would find a balance between stagnation and self-destruction. Twenty eighteen was just around the corner afterall.

Dean got back to the room in time to shower and crash. If they wanted to push it, they could make it to their Dad’s place the next day. But neither of them were in a hurry, even in Sam’s fuckboy Charger it was nice to be on the road together. Dean took the first stretch towards Albuquerque, but Sam called it in Santa Fe. He had thought ahead and booked them a hotel instead of chancing it again, which surprised Dean for some reason. Sam had gone and gotten to be responsible while Dean was busy fishing himself out of professional purgatory.

“You talk to Bela?” Sam asked as they waited for their pizza to be delivered. 

“Uh, she texted me that she landed at Heathrow, but not really. Why?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his beer.

“Wasn’t sure if you guys were doing the whole gift exchange thing,” Sam shrugged. “Madison made me wait until after we get back to give her hers.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t want to know what you’re giving her, alright?”

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise ignored the innuendo. “Won’t people be asking about what you got her?”

Dean hadn’t really thought about it. “I guess I could ask Trouble for some ideas, see if she thinks it’s necessary we post about it. I don’t know, I was kind of hoping of forgetting about the whole thing until New Year’s at Elizabeth’s, you know?”

Sam leveled Dean with a glare. “You know Dad is gonna ask to meet her.”

Dean set down his beer. “Well it’s a good thing she’s halfway across the world then.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Mom loved that show,” Sam said thoughtfully.

He was right. Dean had completely forgotten about why he’d recognized Bela the first time they’d met at your housewarming party way back when. But, yeah, Mary had watched ‘Red Sky in the Morning’ every Tuesday night after she put them to bed. Once Dean reached junior high, he was able to persuade her to let him stay up and watch too.

“I can’t believe it was on as long as it was, it was fucking awful,” Dean said playfully.

“Yeah, but it was her escape,” Sam added gently.

Dean took a long pull off his beer. “I guess so.”

When Sam went to meet the delivery driver, Dean turned on the television, banking on some sort of Christmas special to take his mind off memory lane. They ate quietly, letting last minute sales commercials drown out their thoughts. Tomorrow they were going home, or as close to it as they had outside of LA. Dean felt lopsided over getting to see Adam, having to navigate his dad, and tiptoeing Kate’s well-meaning but invasive nature.

But that’s family for you, nothing more important than that.

Dean rolled over on the couch, something had woken him up and he was too hungover to let it win. But it didn’t stop, a trilling sound coming from his pants pocket, fuck, it was his phone. He cracked one eye open and checked the caller id.

He closed his eyes and answered. “Morning, beautiful.”

“Dean Winchester?” a harried voice asked, decidedly not Jo.

“Ellen?”

“Yeah, listen— there’s been an accident. Jo and Y/N were T-boned on Hound Drive last night. Can you come to the hospital? I just came home for a change of clothes, but I’m heading back there now.”

Dean sat up, liquor and a headache dulling his reflexes. “Ellen? What are they saying?”

“She’s in the ICU. I— we need you there.”

 Terror flooded Dean’s system, churning with a relentless guilt. Jo wouldn’t have been out so late if it wasn’t to see him. He swallowed. “Uh, of course. Do you want me to drive you? I can be there in ten minutes.”

“I’ll pick you up. I’ve got my truck, the roads are still a mess.”

“Right, okay, I’m at Dad and Kate’s— do you–”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“Ellen? Be careful.”

“Don’t you start young man.”

“Yes ma’am.” 

Ellen hung up.

Dean stumbled into the bathroom and threw up. He didn’t have time for a shower. Instead he grabbed his shaving kit and threw on a fresh layer of deodorant and brushed his teeth. He pounded three Advil with the water from one of those flowery Dixie cups Kate kept in a plastic dispenser on the counter. He couldn’t look at himself in the mirror, he knew how bad he must look. He stomped back into the living room and swapped his sweaty flannel for one that smelled neutral from his duffel. Adam showed up as Dean was shoving his boots on.

“Dean? Can I put on cartoons?”

He didn’t jump, Dean didn’t get scared of six-year-olds in footie pajamas. He was just on edge, was all.

“Knock yourself out,” Dean said.

“Where are you going?” Adam asked, stealing the afghan Dean had left on the floor.

“Uh, friend of mine had an accident, so I’m heading to the hospital. Can you tell Dad? I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“You can tell me yourself,” John’s voice pressed in behind Dean as he came in from the kitchen, mug of coffee in hand.

“Dad—,” Dean looked at his father, a man who had been on the road cheating on his mother for years. The same mother who died in a fire because John couldn’t bother to make sure to keep the electrical in their shitty double wide up to code. “It’s Jo. Ellen’s gonna take me to the hospital. Dad, I—”

John’s entire stance changed. “Go. Call when you know something. I’ll send Sammy when he’s up, he’ll know what to do.”

They both knew Sam couldn’t stop whatever was happening, but he’d keep Dean from causing a scene.

A car honked in the driveway.

“I gotta go. Thanks,” Dean brushed past his dad without even a glance at Adam.

Dean wouldn’t let Ellen drive, even hungover he trusted himself behind the wheel more than a desperate mother. She only pretended to argue before sliding across the bench seat and letting him in. The roads were a mess. In the thirty minute drive to the hospital, Dean saw another two cars in the ditch. Though, it was clear now in the morning sunshine, everything was blinding in its whiteness.

“Listen, you shut up and keep your head down. Let me do the talking,” Ellen warned him as they approached the reception desk.

“Hi, I’m Ellen Harvelle, I’m here to see my daughter Joanna? This is her fiance.”

Dean squirmed, but nodded at the nurse who looked at him like she wanted to reach over and hug him. “Of course, right this way.”

She led Dean and Ellen down a hushed hallway, the beeping of machines and huffing of ventilators the only sounds escaping the doorways as they passed. Dean looked around for a trash can, the painkillers in his stomach threatening to come back up. Ellen took his hand and pulled him into a room. 

Jo was hooked up to more machines than should have fit in the tiny room. Her hair was matted with blood and she was drowning in the hospital gown. Her beautiful face was swollen and red, the bruises still forming where she hit the passenger side window— or maybe that was the dashboard, Dean couldn’t tell she was so misshapen.

“Oh, Jo,” Dean’s voice broke. He stopped himself from saying anything as the nurse talked, but all he wanted to do was sob.

 He didn’t realize he had let go of Ellen’s hand until he was clenching the rail along Jo’s bedside. Ellen stood on the other side of her, carefully brushing the hair out of Jo’s beaten face. Her one arm was framed in a metal fixator, skin angry from where the bone sliced her open from the inside. Her leg was in a brace, but at least that meant those bones were more salvageable.

“What happened?” Dean said eventually, unsure of when the nurse left. He eyed the machines tracking Jo’s heart rate, but he wasn’t sure if the readings were good or bad.

“Someone was driving on the wrong side of the road— couldn’t see the lines and Y/N swerved to miss them, they spun out and the other car didn’t stop. They took her to surgery– her right knee was shattered.”

“Jo took the brunt of it,” Dean stated the obvious, still too terrified to reach out and touch Jo. She was suddenly so very fragile.

Ellen sniffed.

“They are watching for internal bleeding before they’ll operate. Her brain—," Ellen couldn’t finish.

“Hey,” Dean rushed around the bed and pulled Ellen against his chest, finally giving his hands something to do. “They’re doing everything they can.”

“It’s not enough,” Ellen argued.

“I know,” Dean agreed, squeezing her tighter.

Ellen pulled back and wiped her eyes, muttering to herself about going soft. Dean needed to give her a moment, hell, he needed a minute to catch his breath. He told her he was going to find coffee and she told him they had a waiting area down the hall. He nearly ran out of Jo’s room.

He checked his watch, it was just after ten o’clock. And as exhausted and hungover as Dean felt, he was pretty sure Ellen hadn’t slept at all after closing the bar. He wondered if she’d even made it home before getting the call. He found the coffee maker and pushed a button for something hot and thin and caffeinated. He wondered if Y/N had passed a breathalyzer, knowing how much Jo had been drinking didn’t make him certain her driver was much better off.

He was gonna be sick again.

He left the paper cup on the grate and fell into one of the stiff plastic chairs around the small table. He put his head between his knees and breathed, resting on his elbows. Dean counted the flecks in the white linoleum squares beneath his feet.

Nothing made sense. They were just getting started. Last night there was the impossible giddiness of seeing her in person after so long and now the unabashed horror of her mother sneaking him into the hospital as her fiance so he could see her before…

She was eighteen-fucking-years-old and he was going to lose her.

And it was all his fault.

He stared at the floor until he couldn’t anymore. The coffee was nothing more than a passing burn on the way to his knotted stomach. But he couldn’t stop the tears and he wouldn’t go back to Ellen until they were dry, she needed him to be better than that. When he couldn’t cry anymore and after he used his last single for a pack of peanut M&Ms, Dean went back to Jo’s room.

Ellen was asleep in an ugly mauve chair with her hand clutching Jo’s good ankle over the thin hospital blanket. Dean found another blanket from a CNA and tucked it around Ellen’s shoulders. He stood guard, through Ellen’s brief nap and the three o’clock shift change, even after Sam came by with lunch but left because he wasn’t allowed on the ward.

The seizures started around five and Ellen and Dean were asked to wait outside. Before six, she was wheeled away from them into emergency surgery and by seven she was gone. Dean had to hold Ellen back from slugging the surgeon. He caught her when she finally sank into reality, and somehow Dean found more tears.

Nothing felt real, least of all Dean himself.

Adam looked Dean in the eye and grinned.

“Get over here you little shit, I told you to stop growing the last time I saw you didn’t I?” Dean hugged his youngest brother hard, thumping him on the back as he rocked from foot to foot. “Good to see you, man.”

“You too,” Adam grunted out before Dean could release him.

Then came John, waiting for Dean as he walked through the front door. They didn’t say anything, just gave each other the once over and went in for the hug. John held him tight until he cleared his throat, stepping away from the vulnerable moment. Sam came in with his bags and hugged Kate first, who had been waiting in the hallway to the kitchen.

“Sammy,” John said, holding out his arms.

“Hey Dad,” Sam hugged with genuine warmth on his face, Dean never thought he’d see the day. But time does things to a person, and forgiveness was always Sam’s superpower.

“You boys hungry? I can reheat dinner, I know you’ve been on the road, wasn’t sure when you’d get in,” Kate offered as Dean went in for the obligatory hug. She had colored her hair, instead of her natural blonde it was a mature auburn, covering the gray and giving her a different air.

“Don’t worry about us, we can scavenge for something later,” Dean assured her. “I like your hair.”

That startled her. “Oh! Thank you, yeah I just figured I’d do something different for winter, you know.”

“Don’t she look good? I told her redheads are feisty,” John teased, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Gross,” Adam called on the way to the basement, where Sam had headed down to watch him finish his game.

“Beer?” John offered and Dean gladly accepted.

Arriving three days early was pushing their luck, Dean knew that, but there was nothing keeping him in LA. And after the novelty of catching up and last minute shopping in the tiny downtown of Mills’ Crossing, there wasn’t much more small talk to be had. 

Naturally, John started it. But it was over Sam that had Dean’s hackles up first. They were sitting down for a late lunch, having gone to church as a family for the first time since Kate and John got married when John made a comment about it was good to see Sam’s forearms ‘healthy’. 

What he meant was he was proud of Sam for kicking his habit, for staying clean. What John didn’t know was that Sam was so good at hiding it, Dean had to check between his toes before he finally got him into rehab the last time. Seven years since Sam had kicked it and John still needed to point it out.

The jam session that night seemed to clear the air. Adam had decided he was a drummer sometime after Dean and Sam’s first platinum album so John built him an entire soundproof room in the basement to go wild. Which meant the Winchester men were a full four piece, if they got to pick their parts. Dean abstained from playing lead because it was John’s house after all, but the old man’s hands weren’t what they used to be. And that gave Dean a little bit of satisfaction.

They rolled through the classics, even playing a couple of Phantom Traveler’s songs that didn’t rely too much on the keys. Dean made John sing though, laughing when he made up his own lyrics.

They ended the night with a drunken, almost punk rendition of Jingle Bell Rock after which Kate shut the lights out on them and told them to go to bed.

Christmas Eve was boring, Dean had gotten stir crazy and kept checking his phone. He knew you had gotten in the night before, but he couldn’t justify trying to hang out while you had such little time with your family as it was. Sam gave him a look and they started playing poker, teasing Adam that he needed to know every version of the game if he was gonna hold his own one day. 

Kate wiped the floor with them all.

They had eggnog and exchanged one round of gifts before going to bed, no expectations of Santa Claus or any set wake up time scheduled. It was just another day. Dean barely slept, anxiety churning inside him. He tried meditating. He even prayed, but God, who was understandably busy that night, didn’t save him. Because he woke up with a bug up his ass and, naturally, his father was the first one to point it out.

“You kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” John asked after Dean cursed at Adam’s obnoxious ringtone.

“Do a lot more with it than that,” Dean muttered before he could stop himself.

“Dean Winchester,” John snapped as if Dean was still sixteen, still living under his roof.

“Oh, come on, kids in college, he’s heard worse,” Dean griped, going back to his coffee.

It all went downhill from there. Naturally, Adam got the lion’s share of gifts. Sam and Dean didn’t need anything, but it was so uneven it looked like John and Kate didn’t even remember they were coming to visit. Meanwhile, John’s plasma screen had arrived two days earlier and Sam and Dean were tasked with installing it in the living room midmorning.

Nothing says family time like manual labor and micromanagement.

Dean started drinking before Kate had taken the ham out of the oven. And while Sam wasn’t exactly keeping track, Dean felt like he was asking for whatever bitchface he got next. He just couldn’t stop himself once he started snarking.

Adam was telling them about the musical composition class he had finished and how he had written something for a string quartet. 

“Our new keyboard player went to Julliard, you should send it to him,” Dean said off the cuff, before shoving some venison sausage in his mouth from the snack trays Kate put out.

“So you upgraded from Cas officially now?” John asked suspiciously.

“Dad, Cas left the band last spring, of course we made it official,” Sam cut in. John already knew this.

“I know, I just hoped you boys would work it out.”

Dean laughed darkly. “Nothing to work out. Dude left, we moved on.”

“And why did he leave exactly?” John goaded Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, John was one to talk. He had pissed off half of all musicians between the Rockies and New Orleans before he hung it up.

“Let’s call it the Winchester temper and leave it at that,” Dean smiled without teeth, then popped more snacks into his mouth.

“Yeah, cuz the Campbell blood held only saints,” John muttered.

“Dad!” Sam admonished.

“That’s fucking rich! Talking about her when she’s not here to call you on your shit. I fucking punched Cas, alright?! You happy?! And who, DAD, taught me how to do that? Huh? Winchester temper. Not Campbell. That one was all from you.”

John stepped into Dean’s space, but spoke to Sam. “Sam, take your brother outside for a walk to cool down before dinner.”

Sam grunted in confirmation.

“Watch how you talk to me in my own home, Dean. Or I’ll show you a Winchester temper,” John said lowly. “You understand?”

Dean rolled his shoulders and looked his father in the eye. “Who exactly paid for this house again, Dad? Yeah, I’ll talk to you how you deserve it. I’m out of here.”

Dean felt Adam watching from the corner as Kate pulled John out of the kitchen and into their bedroom to give him a piece of her mind. Sam nodded at their younger brother, silently thanking him for holding down the fort as Dean stormed out the front door.

The Roadhouse was blissfully the same, with only a handful of beaten down cars in the parking lot. Dean had spent enough Christmases at bars or taverns throughout his life, but now he just wanted something that felt like home to get through this tightness in his chest. What they found inside was something altogether more special.

Ellen’s entire face lit up as they walked in, an empty plate in front of her and Garth manning the food line. Dean got his hug in first, but Sam took his time asking about what was going on. Then you were there, and Dean felt a hot shame creep up because he was this close to falling into old patterns. And that wasn’t how he ever wanted you to see him. He zipped his lips, pleading with himself to get a handle on his temper already.

He felt you breathe him in, the truth was never hard for you to suss out. And yet Dean held on, needing you close, being stupid and selfish as ever.

They took their free meal and ducked into a corner, watching as Ellen played angel to the downtrodden of Boone county. Slowly, Dean was able to set his shit aside. With Sam talking about anything and everything across from him; he accepted his resentment for his father, his frustration at himself and the stupid fucking feelings he had for you. It all seemed much more manageable when faced with people who had to get over much bigger obstacles with so much less. There was one more thing he promised he’d do while he was home, now that he’d visited Ellen. And he double checked that Sam was still good to go with him, to be his chauffeur.

They helped clean up, though Ellen moved a mile a minute and did tasks faster than she could explain them. And then Ellen was handing you off like a Christmas present, one that Dean couldn’t ever accept. 

Ellen said her goodbyes and left Dean standing in the parking lot without much of a guess on what you wanted to do next.

“I guess we better get going,” he said, asking Sam more than anything.

Then Sam reminded Dean about the cemetery and a new wave of guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach. When it came to Jo, you had first dibs. She was your best friend and Dean’d be damned if he’d visit her without you getting a chance to too. As macabre as it was, he felt he owed it to you.

You looked like you were going to be ill.

“Maybe we should ask her if she wants to go,” he told Sam, searching your eyes for permission at the very least.

You took your time with the idea, but turned him down. “If it’s okay, would you mind dropping me off first? I know it’s in the other direction.”

Dean felt you sinking behind a wall the further they got from the Roadhouse, you asked questions and made conversation, but you weren’t really in it. He probably shouldn’t have brought up Jo, but with Ellen and Christmas and the Roadhouse, she was already everywhere anyway. 

They let you out at your parents’ and headed back across town. The streets were almost empty with the sacredness of the holiday. The cemetery was decorated in pine wreaths and cheap red ribbons. The narrow paths were  silent beneath their feet. Dean had thought he knew what he wanted to say when he decided to take this little side quest to see Jo.

What he said once Sam was safely back inside the Charger was something else entirely.

“So, I’ve been better. Not like I’m bad now, but I’ve been doing actually better. I was a mess for a long time. And not just from you, but a lot of shit. And last year, I guess earlier this year really, I kind of imploded. I started hurting people, like actually hurting them and justified it to myself somehow. Then I pushed Cas away from helping me, after breaking his nose. And well, the bands a lot different now. But we’re still doing it. 

Look, Jo, I know you wanted me to live my dreams and see the world. Things I always wish you could have done. But sometimes dreams are regular everyday things, like bringing home pie or having somebody to say goodnight to. And I haven’t let myself have dreams in a long, long time. But I think maybe I’m starting to again.

And I just need you to know that I’m gonna be okay. And I am gonna do what I can to keep your people safe, because they’re my people now too, you know? You gave me another mom and a best friend without even meaning to. And we all miss you like crazy. But, we’re okay. Merry Christmas, beautiful. I  hope the angels pull out all the stops up there.”

Dean exhaled, his nose thick and eyes stinging in the cold air. He wiped his face and looked at Jo’s name one more time before turning back towards the road. Sam waited until Dean was buckled in before asking, “you good?”

“Yeah, man. Let’s get back before I cause more of a sensation,” Dean said, not meeting Sam’s eyes.

“Okay,” was all Sam said.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

Chapter 15: Rubato

[totheseok]

uh oh?

synopsis: what happens when the daughter of the CEO of a major film company and the son of the president of a successful food company move in next door?

episode 2: cats holding banners

last episode ▪︎ next episode

word count: 924

(italic writing is yn's thoughts)

Taboba had been y/n's absolute favourite boba shop in Seoul, she first discovered it while she was studying abroad. Upon returning home she found out there was ONE outlet in Seoul, which was conveniently just a 10 minute drive from her parents house. But, they were closing down and she was moving to a different part of Seoul, half an hour away from the shop.

Growing up as the daughter of a big-shot movie producer, she was privileged enough to live in one of the expensive neighbourhoods of Seoul, in a big house over-looking the Han river. And though it was true that she was to eventually take over the company her parents wanted her to pave her own way and make her own name in the industry. Granted her heritage would certainly give her a boost in popularity.

She decided one of the first steps to make her own way would be to move into her own space and live by herself. So with the help of friends and family she chose a penthouse apartment for herself in Gangam and bought it (cus wth is rent when ur rich). But thats all irrelevant right now because she's not moving there for another week. Right now what's important is that she just parked her car outside the new boba shop that opened near her new apartment.

Bobobble.

It's a cute name even she cant deny that. She hopes with every atom of her body that the boba is good too. It was also owned by SeoulFoods, a company that sponsored most of SilverWoods' shows and movies, and also catered for their events.

The issue isn't bad boba, the issue is being as good as or topping taboba boba.

Stepping inside, the cafe looked like any other, it was simple, with mood lighting, wooden floors and comfy looking leather seats. But there was one recurring theme. Cats. It wasn't a cat cafe, yet, cute pictures of cats doing stupid things were hung up on the walls, the bookshelf was shaped like a cat, the little plant pots on the table were cats that looked like they had leaves growing out of their heads. Overall, a-lot of cats.

Y/N made her way to the counter and luckily didn't have to wait too long considering it was 11 AM and everyone was either at work or at school, no long lines. She greeted the barista and placed her order, payed for her drink and then chose a table by the window. Good for working and people watching.

Y/n's first mistake today was forgetting her laptop charger at home, but she was already on the highway when she realised and couldn't turn back even if she wanted. Now the question was if her laptop was already charged or if she would open it and it would die in the middle of her editing a scene.

79%. Not bad, good enough to edit at least one scene. She started opening the softwares she needed to work and got started.

Soon enough her drink arrived, paired with a slice of cheesecake. Wait... Cheesecake? YN hadn't ordered any. Her original plan had been to have her drink and order a sandwich if she got hungry a while into working.

Maybe I should ask the server. Luckily for her he was walking by after serving another order.

"Um, excuse me?" She called out.

"Yes, ma'am"

"Uh, I only ordered a drink, i was served cheesecake as well are you sure it isn't someone else's?"

"Ah, yes, it's on the house, our manager said there's a newcomer gift for today, and since it's your first time visiting Bobobble, you qualify for it!"

"Ohh, I see, well um thank you so much!"

"No, problem ma'am, enjoy your meal!"

Newcomer gifts huh? Lets hope this boba is also good because so far I'm liking this place.

YN reached for her cup of bubble tea and immediately noticed logo. A cat holding a banner that said bobobble. Omg cute pls be good i want to come back here.

Bringing the straw to her lips, she took and sip and...

"Holy shit" She whispered to herself.

Looks like bobobble just gained a new and very loyal customer.

In the break room, a barista sat with their phone in front of them, voice recording app open.

"Dear diary, today the owners son Taesan came to overlook the store. He's a chill guy around my age but he's generally pretty quiet. Anyways, around 11 AM a girl walked in with her laptop bag and stuff, she ordered her drink and sat down then started working on whatever it was that she was working on, she was pretty nice but thats not the point

"the issue here is that when i was going to serve her drink, Taesan told me to take some cheesecake for her and tell her it was on the house as a welcome gift for her first time here. I didnt know we were doing one of those so it was news to me but i didn't question it.

"HOWEVER, later another girl came in and i had never seen her before so as i was taking a slice of free cheesecake out for her Taesan stopped me and said he changed his mind? so no more free cheesecake for new people? idk man. my guess is that he thought the other girl was cute. ig we'll just have to wait and see, anyways my break is ending so ill finish this at night when im home"

a/n: pls tell me yall got the chenle reference w the "whats rent when ur rich"

and special thank you to @taesancore for reading it for me before i posted to help me figure stuff out.

taglist (open): @seungzzzz @thvvcut @ywnzn @livelaughlovetaesan @lovelyannoyingcher @blurryriki @xyxlyn @lovandr @lcvehee @sobun1est @roxasrana @loyalsunwoo @luv-y0urself @rosesfortaro @nujeskz @ryunjin0 @milkmilkmalk

bold couldn't be tagged 😔

[ficmashup]

A Trip to Scotland

Summary: You join TF141 after something happened on your last deployment. They take you in and while it takes some time, you find yourself warming up to them, and them to you. Perhaps especially to the Captain.

A/N: Sort of sequel to Taken, but this is the trip to Scotland (obviously, given the title) but I'm gonna let it stand along as it's own thing. Nearly panicked this week because my laptop charger died on me and had to immediately order another, but so relieved to have my writing back again. So this is a bit of a celebration. Don't think I'm quite done with G and Price yet, but I might write for someone else soon. Still thinking on it. ;)

Warnings: Hm, language? Fluff. Not many warnings this go round. Not beta'd.

Word Count: 4.5K

Masterlist

“So what exactly should I be preparing myself for?” I ask as I tuck away a few folded clothes into my duffel with a glance to John sitting on the chest at the end of the bed. We’re back home and I’m packing a few last-minute things before heading out for my flight. It took the entire few days to convince Soap that I didn’t need him at my side 24/7 to ferry me home, then to Scotland. So he’s already there eagerly awaiting the time to pick me up from the airport. At least according to the dozen text messages he’s already sent me today.

John smiles and shakes his head. “Soap’s family is alright. A bit much all at once, but they’re good people and I’ve little doubt you’ll get along.” There’s laughter in his voice that makes me raise a brow at him, but I let it slide. I’m sure I’ll find out what he means soon enough. I zip up my bag and he’s instantly on his feet to take it before I even touch the handles. My eyes roll even as I smile and begrudgingly take my crutch to shuffle into the kitchen.

“Three older sisters, right?” I ask as I settle on a stool and John sets my bag by the door.

He nods and moves towards me. “Three older sisters. He’s the baby, which explains a lot.” I smirk as he stops next to me and I reach out, pulling him closer by the hem of his shirt. His smile sweetens and his hand lifts, pushing my hair back as his thumb brushes over my cheek. “I’ll miss this.” He says softly, almost unintentionally, and I smile as I lean into his touch.

“Mm. The feeling is mutual.” This thing between us is still so new and shiny, I’d be happy sitting and staring at him do literally anything. Which is another reason why this little separation is a good idea. If I get any sappier, then I’m going to make myself sick. “I’ll text you updates and call you when I can?” I say the last part a bit hesitantly, not sure if it’s too much too soon.

“Sounds good. Good luck finding a moment alone in that house though.” He says with a smirk and once again I’m struck by the notion that he’s not telling me all that he could. My mouth opens to ask when there’s a knock at the door. My brows furrow and I become even more suspicious when John’s smile widens. “I’ll get it.” He presses a kiss to my lips and lingers a bit as my fingers curl into his shirt. He hums softly against my mouth and the pressure of the kiss increases before he pulls away, his hand kneading my skin lightly before he reluctantly walks to the door. I watch with a smirk before the door opens and surprise makes my expression go blank.

Simon shakes Price’s hand before looking at me with smug humor in his eyes. “Ready for our flight, G?”

I raise a brow as my eyes go wide. “Our flight? You’re shitting me.” I look between both men who simply smirk. My accusing gaze settles heavy on John. “Who was it that decided that I needed babysitting on a fucking hour long flight?” There’s no heat in my tone, but it gives me some pleasure to see Price shift his weight onto his back foot.

“Majority vote, G. Aren’t you glad for my company?” Simon teases flatly and it’s at least a treat to see his eyes sparkling so brightly. Even if it is at my expense.

“Mm. It’s nice having a pack mule, I suppose.” I tease him right back as he grabs my bag and easily heaves it over his shoulder with a roll of his eyes. My gaze goes back to John. “Suppose you can walk us out then, Captain.” I emphasize his title, letting him know that with Simon here, that’s the only goodbye that he’s going to get. He chuckles and ducks out next to Simon while I lock the door behind me.

“Go on, we’ll go slow and meet you outside.” Price pats Simon on the shoulder and he doesn’t pause, happy to keep moving on a mission as he slips down the stairs. My head shakes even as I smile and tuck my keys away as we move slowly down the hall.

“You realize that out of everyone, he probably already knows.” I say quietly and wrap my arm around his, letting him support me more than the crutch as we take our time walking down the hall.

John smiles and half-shrugs a shoulder. “Probably, yes. But he’s the least likely to say something as long as he knows we want things quiet.” He reaches forward and presses the button for the lift, his smile widening when he hears my impatient sigh at having to wait for the tiny box. If I could walk, I’d be headed for the stairs after Simon.

“You’re still happy with that?” I glance up at him as there’s a little ding and we step onto the lift.

He meets my gaze. “I am. But I’m glad to talk it through if you’ve changed your mind.”

My head shakes and I take the time to let my fingers rub over the inside of his arm, taking in the feeling of his skin. “No, I like the way things are. Though we should talk about what we’ll say…eventually.” There’s little doubt in my mind that they’ll figure things out sooner rather than later. Although we might last a little longer if Simon decides to work with us and throw the others off the scent.

“Something to think about while we’re apart.” He sounds a touch disgruntled this time and even though I feel the same, I do get a little thrill at knowing he’ll miss me.

“So…are you going to kiss me before the lift stops?” I relish the surprise that widens his eyes, then the cute crinkling of his eyes as he turns towards me. He reaches out and presses the buttons for the last few floors so we’ll make a stop at each one.

He turns towards me and I can’t help smiling as he tilts my chin up. “Do you want me to?”

“What do you think?” I keep my voice low and cloying, unable to help teasing him as he stoops a bit so his lips are an inch from mine. We take small, slow steps back until I can feel the wall behind me and my hand claims the handrail to keep me steady on one foot.

“Like hearing you tell me yes.” He murmurs and I breathe in that distinct scent of cigars as he practically speaks onto my lips.

“Pretty sure you hear me chirp ‘yes sir’ almost every day at work.” I whisper back, smirking as my other hand rests on his side to pull him closer, feeling his heat searing my hand through his shirt.

His head shakes, his nose almost brushing mine with each movement. “Not the same. Like hearing you ask me for things. Like giving you what you want.” Warmth fills my chest at the simple, sweet sentiment. I know the words will loop in my head later when I’m alone in bed, wandering if he’s the same way in other areas.

“And I like making you wait.” I tease again and my toes curl at the deep, rumbling laugh that makes his chest vibrate.

“You’re about to make both of us wait for two weeks. Can’t take it easy on me this once?” He raises a brow and I grin, pulling him in and pressing my lips to his. As always, his mouth is soft and warm on mine and fills me with slow heat with every touch. It’s easy and slow and I like that he takes his time making me melt into his hands. My head tilts to give him permission to deepen the kiss and he pauses for a moment, making sure I mean it, then pushes in again.

His hands frame my face and my stomach flips when I feel his calluses sliding against my skin. My lips part as I feel nothing but the wall behind me and the intense heat of him in front of me. His tongue tentatively glides over my bottom lip and I melt even further against him, pulling on his shirt as a silent plea for more. I’m only vaguely aware of the first ding of the lift as it stops and the door opens, but John treats this as a warning that our time is becoming shorter. This is new territory for us and it makes me think I may have underestimated how he might feel about being apart for two weeks. “So sweet f’me.” He mumbles into my mouth before giving me another firm kiss.

I huff softly, making a fist in his shirt as the doors close and the lift moves again. “Mean to tease like this before I leave.”

He smiles and I like tasting it. “You asked for it.”

“I asked for a kiss.”

“And I gave you one.”

“That was…more than a kiss.”

“Are you disapproving?”

The doors ding before opening again and I know the next time they open, we’ll have to get off. “No. I am debating on what it might take for Simon to let us do this in the back of the car on the way to the airport.” His eyes widen for a moment, then he’s laughing and I’m soaking in the sound.

“Hm, don’t think he’d put up with that, sugar. Tempting as it is.” His thumbs brush over my cheeks before reluctantly stepping back after making sure I’m steady on my feet.

“Pity.” I sigh and straighten out his shirt with a smirk as we come to the bottom floor and walk out. Simon has already tossed my back in the back and has a hand on the passenger side door. My head shakes, but I walk over and let him open my door, pretending not to notice his hand hovering over the small of my back as I slide in the seat. He and Price shake hands and pat each other’s shoulders before he continues to walk around to the driver’s side. My eyes soften as I look out at Price and give him a playful salute to see him smile before we pull out.

*     *     *

It becomes clear to me almost immediately that Simon isn’t a fan of public flights. It’s not a surprise given the cramped space filled with people, my head is on a swivel too, but we quickly fall into an easy pattern of covering for the other. If one of us needs to talk to someone, then the other moves behind and watches their back. It affords the both of us a little extra comfort and it’s easy letting him carry our bags. I think he likes having the added weight to steady him and it does make it easier for me to walk.

As we settle into our seats and my hand slides over his arm to try and leech out some of the stiffness, I’m not sure whether he was actually sent to help me or for me to help him. I reach into my carry on and immediately perk up when I find a little bag of hard candies inside. John or Kyle slipped them in there no doubt. I take one for myself, then offer the bag to Simon. He laxes a bit and smirks, accepting the offering and popping it into his mouth.

“You’ve been here before, yeah?” I ask softly, incredibly thankful that there’s no one else in our row.

He nods and moves the candy into his cheek. “Scotland or the MacTavish’s?”

My eyes roll. “Pretty sure you’d have to have been to Scotland in order to have been to the MacTavish’s.”

“Mm. There a question in there?” He shifts in his seat, frowning at the lack of space for his broad body.

“What do you think of them?” I fish for a little information, maybe what John didn’t want to tell me, and also just to keep his discomfort level low.

The frown on his face fades as the corner of his mouth twitches and amusement glimmers in his eyes. “They’re good people. A lot like Soap in all the best ways. A bit noisy when you first meet all of them, especially if they bring their families and little ones, but eventually it becomes a pleasant buzz in the background.”

My brows furrow. “How many people are going to be there?”

His smile widens a touch. “The entire family gets together on the weekends, so you’ll meet everyone.” I breathe out, long and slow, promising myself that John will be getting an earful about leaving out that particular detail. Especially since it’s Saturday, so I’m really being shoved into the lion’s den.

*     *     *

Simon knocks on the front door before deftly moving behind me as it swings open to reveal a grinning Soap. “G! Glad you finally—”

“Is that the famous G we’ve heard so much about?” A voice cuts him off and she sounds like an older woman, probably his mother. My eyebrows raise at hearing that I’m apparently famous. I’m not sure whether to be worried or flattered.

“Get her in here! I’ve been dying to meet her!”

“JJ, you’re blocking the entire doorframe with your fat head. Move over!”

I’m assaulted by a chorus of women’s voices before someone slides over and bumps Soap with her hip while holding a baby on the other side. She’s probably in her upper thirties. “Well, let her in! Thought the military was supposed to teach you manners?” Her smile is wide and pretty, like Soap’s, and her dark curly hair is wild even though it’s cut at her jaw. Just out of reach from the baby in her arms. “Come on in, G, we’ve heard so much about you. Glad you made it too, Simon.” She practically shoves Soap out of the way to make room for Simon and I to step in. He keeps to my back and I’m not sure if it’s to make sure that I don’t fall over or to make sure I don’t turn right back around.

“Thanks for havin’ me.” Simon says and the woman shakes her head as if he says this every time and it isn’t necessary. Decorations from the winter holidays are still up and most every other surface is covered with a toy, a child, or another family member. I release a long breath and feel Simon brace a hand high on my back as if reminding me I have back-up.

“I’m Shiloh.” The woman with wild curls introduces herself while easily holding her kid with an arm and offering her free hand to me. I shake it with what I hope is a smile. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

“Pleasure meeting you all as well.” I manage to respond as another woman pops up from sitting on the floor amongst the kids. She has wild curls too, but her hair has a red tint and she’s a touch shorter. Probably mid-thirties.

“Sorry, we know it’s a lot when you first come in, but we’re so happy you’re here!” She shakes my hand with a bit more vigor, her smile bright and wide with sparkling eyes. “You were all JJ talked about when you joined the team and we’re glad you turned out to have a brain.” She gives Simon a pointed look and I’m pretty sure he smothers a chuckle at the firm look. “I’m Shaye, by the way.”

“Let the woman sit, she shouldn’t be on her leg!” An older woman with greying russet hair and round curves waves everyone away as she walks over to me and my eyes go wide as she frames my face with her hands. She’s short and I have to lean down a bit as she draws me close. “It’s so good to have you here with us, lass. So good.” And I can tell she means the sentiment as her eyes crinkle at the sides as she appraises me. She plants a firm kiss to my cheek before reaching behind me and patting Simon’s cheek, then stepping back. “I’m John’s mother. Call me Grace. His father is out back with the rest of the riff raff, but they’ll be in a little later. Go on, pick a place to settle and we’ll kick out whoever is sitting there.”

“Good luck getting Uncle Mick out of his seat.” Soap mutters to Shaye and she grins while looking over at a man snoring softly in an armchair. I’m only half aware of walking over to what seems like the least obtrusive seat, a stool at the counter overlooking the kitchen, and Simon settles next to me. He immediately pulls my foot into his lap to make sure I keep it elevated while I give him a sharp look that only makes him smirk.

“My youngest girl is out trying to wrangle the men into actually cookin’ things on time, but the meal’ll be done soon enough. Just make yourself at home.” Grace says warmly before flitting around the kitchen once again.

“Smells good as always.” Simon says and earns a wide smile from her and an eyeroll from Soap standing beside him. The room is filled with soft conversation and it’s a relief that no one tries to pull me into any for a while. I’m allowed to sit and survey while my mind sorts through the faces, the sounds, and the comforting mess accompanying a large family. There are two toddlers on the floor and a baby passed between the few milling around the room. Apparently, there are more kids out back with their dads and another baby only a few months old, but I’m content letting them come to me rather than seeking them out.

Eventually everyone filters inside and I get to meet Soap’s youngest sister, Siobhan, whose cheeks are rosy from the chill outside. Her eyes light up the second she sees me and she rushes over, stopping just a second before crashing into me to shake my hand. She’s got to be close to Soap’s age. “You must be G! Thanks for keeping my brother in one piece out there.” She winks at me, her bubbly attitude sobering a touch. “It’s a real comfort for all of us knowing he’s got another person watching his back.” Her hand squeezes my arm before she’s called away and I stare after her, feeling warm and surprised.

I feel Ghost’s eyes on me and glance at him to see his eyes crinkled slightly with a soft smile. He nods once. It was like this for him too, then. “I’m gonna give you all such shit for not warning me about all this sooner.” I mutter under my breath, obviously not meaning a word, and he chuckles softly.

“Looking forward to it.” He returns with a twinkle in his eye.

Soap walks over with a fussing baby swaddled up in his arms, this must be the one that had been outside, and slaps Simon’s shoulder. “Dad wants you for a minute.” Simon nods and gently gets up to his feet as Soap takes his place on the stool holding my ankle. I huff.

“Pretty sure there are plenty of children here for you to babysit. I’m fine here.” They glance at one another before shrugging and doing exactly the same thing that they were doing. My head shakes, but I don’t bother objecting more.

“John, can you grab that for me?” His mother asks from the kitchen and he hesitates, looking at me.

I wave him on with a little roll of my eyes. “Promise I won’t move from this spot.” I swear and he smirks before hopping up and setting my foot slowly on the stool so I’m not jostled. He pauses another second and my stomach swirls at seeing the mischief building in his eyes as he steps close and ever so gently lowers the baby into my stiff arms. My head instantly starts shaking as she squawks and her face pinches at the exchange. “Johnny, don’t you dare—”

“Only for a minute, G. Just don’t stand up because you have poor balance right now. Wouldn’t want to risk the bearn.” He grins at me and slides into the kitchen while I stare down at the tiny human now in my arms. I…I’m actually not sure if I’ve ever held a baby in my life. I shift her a bit and pull her close with my arms firm but not too tight around her. She coos and I instinctively start swaying a little in my seat.

“I know, I’m sorry your mean Uncle Soap gave you to some strange lady. A very not cool uncle thing of him to do.” I whisper softly, feeling her weight and warmth sink into my chest. Her blinks get a little slower and I can’t help smiling down at her. Maybe this isn’t too bad. “Must be pretty nice getting held and rocked all the time. Take advantage of it while you can.” I relax a little more and lean back in my seat while continuing to bounce her a little until her eyes are shut and her little mouth is left open. I wonder briefly if this is how Johnny looked as a baby and my smile widens at the thought.

Soap comes back over, but doesn’t reach for her so I don’t make a move to give her back. “Seems you’ve got the special touch. She usually fights sleep a bit harder.”

“Mm. Bet you weren’t this cute when you were a baby.” I tease and he grins, shaking his head.

“Agreed. Especially with the tiny mohawk. Probably stuck up all over the place.” I laugh softly, careful not to move or make too much noise.

Shiloh comes over and Soap makes space for her as she sighs with relief. “Thank god you got her down. We were a few minutes off from full screamin’.” Still, she smiles softly as she looks down at the little bundle.

“Why don’t you head up early tonight? The bearns’ll be looked after.” Soap encourages softly and the warmth in my chest only spreads when I recognize the same tone he used with me to get me to go to bed after a hard mission.

She smiles and sways into him. “You and my husband, I swear. But I know you’re just trying to get me away from G before I tell her what an idiot you were when you were younger.” Her hand musses his hair and he ducks away with a small groan.

“More of an idiot than now?” I ask with a brow lifting and Soap gives me a disapproving look that I grin at.

Shiloh nods. “Oh yeah. We once convinced him that we could all fly but him and he jumped off the roof to try and prove that he could too. Broke his arm.” She giggles while my eyes go wide and I choke while trying swallow my laughter. Soap sighs and tosses his arms in the air, subtly showing her his middle finger out of sight from his mother as he walks away.

The evening goes on and eventually I’m relieved of my babysitting duties only to find Simon across the room with a plastic screwdriver in his hand being instructed by one of the young boys. He’s utterly patient and seems to be taking his task quite seriously. I might snap a picture or two to show John later and for Simon to keep. I think he’d like having them.

Dinner is as raucous as I expected it to be, but I’m a bit more used to it now. The noise is joyous and the room is filled with loud voices and laughter. This isn’t something I’ve ever had and it helps to have Simon beside me as a steady, familiar anchor. But it’s nice. I like the way they argue with grins on their faces, how they laugh without restraint, how warm and welcoming everyone is.

Afterward, I manage to slip outside and I’m greeted by the cool night air. I hadn’t realized how hot the house had gotten with all the people inside. I pull out my phone as I sit on the front porch and call John, smiling when it only rings once before he picks up. “Hey, sugar. How’s it going?” Just the sound of his voice makes me feel a little fuzzy inside.

“It’s good. They’re a lot like I thought they’d be, but…more.”

He chuckles and I imagine him stretching out on his couch, leaned back against the cushions with his hands resting on his spread thighs. “That describes the MacTavish’s pretty well, I think. Never could do anything half-heartedly.”

“Mm. I haven’t been around a family like this in a long time. Since before I joined the military. It’s a little jarring being around so many kids all at once.” I lean against the step behind me, resting an elbow on the cold wood while staring up at the starry sky. It is beautiful out here.

“Simon said the same thing the first time he went.” He hums with amusement. “A bit less nicely though. Think it went something like ‘so many fuckin’ kids.’” We both chuckle while I nod. Yeah, that sounds about right.

“I like seeing him with them. He could use more playtime in his life.” I grin at the thought of buying him a little plastic toolkit to carry around with him. “I might’ve snuck a few pictures without him seeing.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t think you’re the only one.” There’s a little ding from my phone and I put him on speaker as I look at my messages. There’s a picture waiting there of me holding the baby, a soft smile on my face as I stare down at her. Soap is in the kitchen, so Simon must’ve taken it. Cheeky bastard. “Look pretty comfy in that picture, sugar.”

I smile and shrug as if he can see me. “Not sure if I’ve ever held a baby before. Don’t think I have and Soap was only using her as a reason to keep me sitting. But I liked holding her. I think I like it here, actually. Only thing missing is you.” My cheeks get a little hot when I realize what I said, but I only hear John’s soft hum of approval.

“Wish I was there too, sugar. But I like hearing that you’re enjoying yourself and getting some rest. It’s well-deserved.”

“You deserve rest too. Better not neglect yourself while I’m away.”

He laughs softly and I let the sound fill me with warmth. “Yes, ma’am. Call me again tomorrow?”

“I will. Night.”

“Night, sugar.”

We hang up and I stay outside for a few moments longer, breathing in the crisp air and appreciating the stars. It’s only when Soap comes to get me that I shuffle inside straight into a fire warmed blanket that Simon instantly swaddles me in before sitting me in an armchair close to the flickering fireplace. Yeah, I could really learn to like this place.

Tags (Hello, lovelies. As always, tell me if you'd like to be removed or if anyone else wants to be tagged on G and Price's story!)--

@under-the-dirt @jj-ara33 @sorchateas @cherry-blosom-tree

@thriving-n-jiving @jinxxangel13 @emsstuff1 @missmidnight-writes @thereeallink @younggirlgenius @1wh4re1nova @ghostslillady @honeybeeznutz @00ops1e

[ms-demeanor]

Oh hey since you just reblogged a post about this, can I get some tech advice? I have two old Dell laptops that are running slow bc (I suspect) dell has some chip installed that can tell if the charger is Dell brand and throttles the cpu if not. And they have since stopped recognizing their chargers. If I install linux, will that fix the issue? Or is it a hardware problem?

So there's not really a way that Dell can do that but realistically the computers are probably just running slow because they're old (5 years is the usable time we estimate for business laptops; after that they may continue *working* but they'll likely be too slow for our customers to consider them good work computers without some significant upgrades). But if they aren't recognizing the chargers there are 3 possibilities I can think of off the top of my head:

1 - It's a battery issue, not a charger issue. Over time batteries fail and will stop holding a charge no matter how long they're plugged in. The solution to this is to replace the battery, which you can usually do for between 20-45USD on amazon

2 - It's a charger issue. Your AC adapters may have both independently failed, it's possible! Low-cost non-OEM chargers often don't have particularly long lifespans, and replacing them may be the way to fix this.

Second possible charger issue is that it may be the wrong power level for the batteries. Sometimes you might look up something like "Lenovo e15 charger" and you'll see one that looks right but it turns out you've ordered a 45w instead of a 90w, and that is a pretty big problem. You need to make sure you're getting something with the exact specs for your specific computer. Here's an article about it. 

3 - It's a charging port issue. This is one of the more common problems we see on older computers; basically over time with enough plugging and unplugging the port that connects your charger to the motherboard comes loose. This is something that can be a relatively cheap and easy fix in some cases, or a really difficult fix if the thing is soldered directly to the board. Here's a video of someone replacing the charging port on a Dell Laptop for a general idea of what kind of work might be involved in fixing this.

Okay! Now for some basic troubleshooting! Please test for the following:

If the computers don't power on at all while the AC adapter is plugged in then the issue is either the AC adapter or the power port.

If the computers power on while plugged in but they don't hold a charge, the issue is the battery.

If the battery holds a charge for some amount of time (over an hour) but takes forever to charge, then the problem is that you aren't using the correct AC adapter.

If the battery doesn't charge, the computer doesn't come on, and it's the correct AC adapter you can possibly test the adapter with a voltmeter, test the adapter on another computer with the same power requirements, or disassemble the computer and check the power port connection to the motherboard.

But yeah if the computers are powering on at all, right off the top of my head I'd guess either it's a battery issue or a voltage issue with the adapter.

Linux would not help at all with those issues (though hopefully you've got someplace to start looking to resolve those problems now), but if your computer is running slow because it has older hardware that was designed for a different era of computer use (which can be as recent as 5 or so years ago depending on the specs) then a Linux install will likely help. Though keep in mind that if you do an OS swap you will not be able to run any of the programs you currently have for those laptops on those laptops. I think that Linux is good and want more people to use it generally, but I recommend Linux to new Linux users primarily when the computer they're thinking of installing it on is used mostly as a web browsing machine. An old computer with Linux Lite will generally run faster than an old computer with Windows, but if you're trying to get the old computer to play modern games it isn't going to be fast with either OS.

[abbyromanoff]

omg i love kate bishop and there isn’t a lot of stuff on her could you do something fluffy with her? like maybe she returns from a mission with clint and when she gets home they’re both so happy to be back together again and reader is so relieved she’s okay and it’s just fluffy and soft and then have soft sex? bonus if kate could be g!p cause whew🥵

First time for everything

Pairings: g!p Kate Bishop x reader

Summary: The two of you share a nice relaxing evening until it ends with sloppy make outs and a first time for something new

Word count: 1,594

Warnings: fluff, smut, blowjobs, Kate is g!p (has a penis) if you don’t like it just don’t read

No one has permission to steal, copyright, or reblog my work as their own!!

Checking your phone for the hundredth time you looked to see if Kate texted you back. You’ve messaged her twenty three times over the past two hours, some may say you’re overreacting but when your girlfriend hasn’t responded to a single one of them and is on a mission you have a reason to be worried. Hearing the door to your apartment open you jumped on the couch and ran over to greet your girlfriend. Before she could even fully walk into the building your arms were wrapped around her in a hug. She returned it with a squeeze to your body that lifted you off of your feet, something her dad always did before he passed away.

“Looks like someone missed me.” She said as she put you down, laughing along the way.

“Of course I missed you! I sent you many texts and yet you didn’t respond to a single one I was so worried.” You said as you lightly slapped her shoulder and gave her a pout.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry my phone died a few hours ago when I was about to text you.” She looked truly sorry and you almost felt bad for her.

“Kate what did I tell you about charging your phone? Why do you think I bought you that portable charger?” You ended with a chuckle and you both walked into the kitchen to have the pizza you ordered twenty minutes ago. You were lucky she got here when she did or else it would’ve been a cold pizza night. You both settled onto the couch as you turned on the most recent episode of the show you two binge together.

“I seriously can’t believe it took them that long to get together I mean have you seen the way they look at one another? They’re clearly in love and now this random guy wants to take that away and he’s not even good looking like it’s an obvious answer.” You rambled on about a love triangle between three characters in the show as Kate stared at you with love in her eyes. When you finally finished your small debate you looked over to see if Kate had an opinion only to see her still staring at you.

“What are you looking at?” You asked with a teasing smirk.

“Just admiring the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.” She says, smiling as the way you blush.

“Oh?” “Mhm. And I’m just thinking about how lucky I am to be their girlfriend.”

“Well they sound pretty amazing.” You say, flattered by all of her kind words. You don’t know what you did to deserve someone as nice and beautiful as her, yet she wonders the same about you.

She nods along with your words, “They are. They have the most amazing smile and is probably the nicest person you’ll ever meet. They’re always worried about other people, I mean they could literally be bleeding to death but they’ll always make sure you’re okay first. And let me tell you, they have the nicest ass you’ll ever see.” You broke into a fit of giggles at her last sentence. She joined you and the two of you sat there laughing on the couch with nothing but the tv lighting up the room. Once the two of you calmed down you stared into one another’s eyes.

Kate continued with what she was saying before, “And, I love them so much.”

“I think I should meet this lucky partner of yours.” You wondered if this is how she described you to everyone, especially Clint or Yelena. Even if you didn’t know it, she would go on rambles about you to Clint who was just trying to get the mission done. Even if she was taking a guy down she would talk into the ear piece about you. Clint didn’t understand how she never ran out of things to say, but as he said she’s got a case of young love.

“Hmmm, I don’t know, you might end up falling in love with them too.” She said as you pulled her into a kiss, savoring the feeling of her lips on your own. You both made out for a few minutes, taking occasional breaks to breathe and then going back to one another’s lips. You felt her hand shyly going under your shirt and playing with the back of your bra. You broke apart from the kiss to take of your shirt, letting her also take off your bra. She admired your chest, leaning in to take one in her mouth until she stopped,

“Can I?” She always asked permission before she did something to you, saying she always needed consent. You nodded and she dove in, taking your nipple in her mouth. You let out a content sigh as she focused on pleasing you. Taking her hair in your hands you gave her a light massage and lightly scratched at her scalp, she let out a moan with her mouth still full of you. You moved one of your hands down to her sweatpants and cupped her bulge through the pants. Once she finished toying with one breast she moved onto the other, sucking and licking all over. You laid her down and pulled down her bottoms finding Christmas boxers underneath.

“Really?” You laughed, “What? They’re cute don’t you think?” You rolled your eyes playfully and went to take off her shirt as well.

“They’re absolutely adorable Katey.” It was a nickname you often called her. She’d act like she hated it but you saw the red on her cheeks whenever you said the title. Pulling off her Christmas sweater you noticed that she lacked a bra seeming as when she got home she changed into more comfortable clothing. You started to lightly grind on her crotch, making contact with her confined cock beneath her boxers. You leaned down and sloppily made out with each other while you guys’ hands roamed around the others body. You leaned back to look at her, now seemingly nervous.

“Do you remember that thing you wanted to try out?” You asked her, trying not to say the actual word as you were too embarrassed.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” She said truthfully. There has been many things she has wanted to try that you haven’t got to yet. When you both met she was still a virgin and when you two had your first time she discovered multiple things she wanted to do with you.

“You know like,” you let out a sigh before continuing, “How you said you’ve always wanted to see what a blowjob felt like?” The both of you were pretty ‘vanilla’, never really trying out considerably kinky stuff but instead sticking to her fucking your pussy. You both were too nervous to bring things like this up but you wanted to try it.

“Yeah?” “Well, would you want me to give you one?” You were hoping she’d say yes so this wouldn’t have to be even more awkward. When she gave an excited nod you leaned down to her boxers, giving a light kiss to her bulge. Her hips jerked when your lips made contact with her dick, even through the boxers she could feel almost a tingling sensation. Dragging down her undergarment you grabbed her cock in your hand and slowly jerked her off watching how she reacted to it. When seeing her throw her head back you knew to take the next step and wrapped your lips around the head. All she felt was warmth wrap around her tip, you continued to jerk her off to make up for rest of her cock that wasn’t in your mouth. You started to take a bit more of her length down your throat as her hips thrusted side to side overwhelmed with pleasure. She didn’t know where to put her hands so she awkwardly placed them on your head, making you gag as she accidentally pushed you to take more. She was immediately apologizing and taking her hands off of your head but you released her from your mouth to inform her that you were fine. When she got the okay to guide you on her length she started to bring you up and down slowly. Fearing that she’d hurt you again she didn’t make you take much but when you went down further on your own command she almost exploded on the spot. She gained the confidence and made you go down on her even when you gagged. She soon couldn’t take it anymore and came in your mouth without warning. You swallowed it all and went back up to look at her.

“Shit I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cum that fast. I was going to warn you but it just happened.” “Shh, it’s okay. I liked it, but the question is did you like it?” You said the last part a little lower hoping she did in fact enjoy it and you weren’t doing anything wrong.

“Are you really asking me that? That was the best thing ever! Well besides when I fuck your pussy I mean that is definitely the best thing but-“ you cut off her rambling with a kiss that she melted into. She leaned her head on yours when you both broke apart, ‘I love you’s’ were whispered into one another as you both sat in comfortable silence. She leaned back a bit to look you in the eyes still slightly panting,

“Can I fuck your pussy now?”

[senditcolton]

It’s Just A Question

summary: when a party brings back memories of your past with Jack, it leaves you wondering if there are answers to the questions left lingering between the two of you.

songs: X X word count: 2k warnings: alcohol & apprehension

Your head was spinning.

Not from the drinks you had consumed. Not from twirling around on the makeshift dance floor with Nico. Not from any of that.

No, it was spinning from the fact that every time you hazard a glance over at Jack, you already found his eyes trained to you. And you felt his eyes on you even when you weren’t looking.

It was Halloween. It was the annual New Jersey Devils Halloween party. You were supposed to be having fun. And you wanted to say you were. You danced with Nico, you laughed with Gravy, you even managed to convince Dougie to take a quick lap around his cul-de-sac for trick-or-treating, coming back with a purse full of fun sized candy. But still, Jack’s eyes never left you and after hours… it grew to be too much.

Without saying a word, you slip away from the crowd, silently grabbing your purse from its spot on the table in the foyer before pushing open the door and walking into the chilled October – well, technically November – air.

There was a reason why you couldn’t handle staying a second longer. It was the same reason you were even hesitant about attending in the first place. And that reason wasn’t just Jack Hughes or the Halloween party. It was the combination of the two that killed you. Because being there felt like déjà vu.

Last year. Devil’s Halloween party. Jack’s eyes following you almost the entire night. A few drinks. A dance. A kiss. Your friend’s laughter turning to cheers as the two of you continued to kiss, the rest of the world becoming inconsequential.

And how it ended as swiftly as it began.

You pull your phone from the lining of your bag to order an Uber but sigh in dismay as the screen stays black, the battery drained long ago. You debate going back inside and finding a charger, hiding in a bedroom until your cell had enough juice or pulling Miles away to drive you home since he was your ride here. The choices bounce around in your head until a familiar voice calls out to you.

You spin to find Jack standing in the porchlight, eyes on you once again.

“Hey,” he says, the first words he’s spoken to you all night. “What are you doing out here?”

“I was just going to head home,” you explain briefly.

“Oh,” he replies and you try to ignore the little drop in his tone. “Do you need a ride?”

You sigh, weighing your options once more. You did need a ride. But did you need it that badly that you would be willing to suffer through the time it took for Jack to drive you home, the silence heavy with unsaid words.

“Yeah, I do,” you finally say, admitting that his offer was the quickest way to get you home. “If you don’t mind,” you tack on, giving him an opportunity to back out of this. Just in case he realized how fucking awkward it would be and decided to spare the both of you.

No such luck.

“Not a problem. Let me just run and grab my keys,” Jack replies before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the house.

Another deep breath escapes your lungs as you stare at the empty space he used to occupy before spinning back and wandering down the sidewalk, coming to rest against the side of Jack’s car. It isn’t long before Jack is bounding down the path towards you and unlocking door, allowing you to slip into the all too familiar passenger seat.

“You remembered,” Jack muses as he slips into the car, staring the engine, the headlights piercing through the dark night.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just remembered which car is mine,” he fumbles, concentrating a little too intently on pulling out of the makeshift parallel parking outside Nico’s house.

“And?” you ask again, not entirely sure why it was such a big deal for him.

“It’s just been a while.”

“I still hang out with the team enough to know which car is yours, Jacky,” you reply, then cringe when the old nickname falls out of your mouth without warning. Jack is graceful enough to not mention it. Instead, he just shoots a glance back in your direction as he pulls out of the neighborhood, driving down the New Jersey streets on the way back to your apartment.

The drive is quiet, exactly like you expected it to be. And, exactly like you expected, the silence was not a reprieve. Instead, it was suffocating; your efforts to keep your gaze on the passing scenery, the obvious heighted tension in the confined space, Jack’s refusal to not let his eyes land on your frame in the passenger seat every few seconds.

“Eyes on the road,” you mutter under your breath when you catch him looking at you again when stopped at a red light. A sharp exhale of laughter is the only reply you get from Jack as he turns his head back to the street in front of him. It’s quiet until he speaks again.

“Hard to help it when you look as beautiful as you do.”

You hate the way your skin heats up at his words, the compliment laced with more than just friendly praise. Your chest rises in another deep breath as you try to steady your heartbeat. It works for a split second until you feel Jack’s fingers all but innocently caress the side of your thigh.

You know that you could easily jostle your leg, throwing his hand off and that would be the end of it. But as much as you knew how it was going to end if you let it continue, you didn’t care. You missed him enough to let his hand continue to slide across your skin before it settles, his palm setting a fire against your skin and deep within you.

And in the few short remaining minutes, you feel his gaze land on you less than before.

Jack pulls up outside your apartment and you start to hop out before you hear Jack kill the engine, the sound of the driver’s side door closely shortly behind it. You look back at him, an eyebrow raised.

“Let me walk you into your apartment. Just to be safe,” he says and you swear you hear an edge of desperation underneath the suave bravado. Regardless, you give a shrug of your shoulders in some kind of acceptance and let Jack follow you as you unlock your buildings front door.

You feel his presence behind you as you check your small mailbox and even still as you climbed up the carpeted stairs to your third-floor studio apartment. He’s right there as you punch in your keycode and swing open your apartment door. You leave the door ajar, a silent invitation for him to come in, one which he silently accepts before closing the door behind the two of you.

And just like that, it’s as if you two go through the regular motions, as if arriving home together was commonplace. As if being with him was meant to be.

You kick off your shoes by the front door and wander over to your small vanity before removing your rings and placing them in the little trinket dish. In the mirror, you watch as Jack takes off his coat, draping it gently over arm of your couch before walking over to you.

His hands gently bat yours away from the nape of your neck, his fingers deftly unclasping your necklace, arms dropping to set it down on the wood of the vanity. A hand comes to rest delicately on your waist and you can’t stop the shudder that runs through you as your feel his lips press gently against the skin of your shoulder.

You spin in his arms, the tension finally becoming too much. Your hands desperately reach towards his face, grasping at the back of his neck and tangling into his slicked back hair before you are pulling his lips onto your cherry red ones.

Jack gives into the kiss easily, pulling you tighter as his tongue traces the seam of your lips, silently asking for access which you gladly accept, deepening the kiss. He blindly pulls you away from the vanity, walking you across the wooden floors before you feel your mattress hit the back of your legs. You collapse back onto the bed willingly, pulling Jack down with you, the feeling of his body weight on top of you still comforting after all this time.

Jack breaks away from your lips only to trail across your jawline, down to the column of your throat where he lingers for a moment. You relax back into the sheets, the sensation all too familiar and it is easy to get lost in the feeling of him.

But the past finally rears its ugly head, pushing into your brain and taking you out of the moment. You heave a sigh before placing your hands on Jack’s shoulders, pushing him off you and lifting yourself up into a sitting position. Jack takes a step or two back and the two of you stare at each other for a brief moment before you break the silence.

“What the fuck are we doing?”

Jack doesn’t have an answer. Neither do you. So, the question lingers there between you, a phantom haunting whatever history you two shared.

“We can’t keep doing this,” you continue with a sigh.

“I know,” Jack whispers, although in the silence of your apartment, it feels as loud as a gunshot.

“Then why do we keep finding ourselves here?” you ask.

“I don’t know.”

Another pause, the space between the two of you growing further, in all ways but physical.

“Hypothetically speaking,” Jack speaks, breaking the silence again. “What is so wrong about this?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you reply, drawing out the words in hesitation, “it’s wrong because we know how it’s going to end.”

“And you don’t want it to end,” Jack posits.

“I don’t know if there’s any way to stop it from ending. We’ve tried it before and it’s always lead us here.” You sigh again, picking at your fingernails in anxiety.

“Is there anything I can do to prove that it will be different this time? Hypothetically, of course,” Jack asks again and you can’t stop the chuckle that falls from you at his addendum.

“Perhaps,” you muse, connecting your eyes with his. “If you can answer this question.”

Jack nods and you hate the way your heart leaps at the pure desperation in his eyes, a desire not just for your body but for your trust. The way it was obvious that he wanted to make it up to you.

“When you left the apartment of the girl that you kissed in the middle of a crowded Halloween party dancefloor in front of your friends,” you say, letting the use of these hypotheticals distance yourself from the actuality, “did you regret it? Do you regret not fighting for her?”

You let the question hang there, watch as Jack processes it, watch as he flicks through the memories of that night when you two came crashing down.

It’s a drawn-out moment before Jack looks at you, taking a deep breath before walking back over to you, standing between your legs, his hand cupping your jaw, guiding your face to look up at him.

“I’ve regretted it ever since I closed the door of her third-floor studio walkup that day,” he whispers down to you, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. He leans in close to you, ready to capture your lips in his once more. But you stop him again.

“Is it also true that you’ve been seeing someone else?”

“It’s true. A few dates, nothing official. I’ve heard the same about you.” You nod your head gently in concession. “Would it change anything if I said every time I was with her, I couldn’t stop thinking about you?”

“It might. Considering I felt the same way whenever I was with him. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Of course,” Jack chuckles and you can’t stop the small giggle that escapes you as well before Jack finally swallows your laughter by placing his lips on yours, the hypotheticals melting away into the truth.

Whatever hardships you two had and my have, this was meant to be. You would always find your way back to each other.  

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[redtsundere-writes]

Negative Rizz | Heartsteel!Ezkayn

heartstel!ezreal x kayn

Sypnosis: Indirects are fast, but Ezreal is faster.

Contents: Obvious flirting, cheesy pickup lines, innuendos.

Word Count:1125 words.

Author's Note: I kinda like it, I kinda don't lmao.

Requested by: @elgonki

Art in Cover: @gall0ws-calibrat0r (Give them a follow!)

Kayn has the biggest crush on Ezreal. Everything started when they locked eyes for the first time thanks to Heartsteel. He tried to suppress his feelings because he couldn’t believe he had a crush in someone as dumb and stupid as Ezreal, but he failed miserably every time he looked at him. His small waist, long lashes and bright green hair stole Kayn’s attention in any room. At this point, Kayn’s life gravitated towards him. He was down bad, and he needed to do something about it.

Kayn is Heartsteel’s heartthrob, so he is used to swaying men and women under their feet with his handsome appearance and sweet words. He was confident on pulling Ezreal successfully. Kayn was sure that he was going to make Ezreal fall for him. After some consideration, the heartthrob finally decided to shoot his shot, but it was going to be way harder than he thought.

Kayn’s first attempt was at a wild party at his house. He was waiting at the perfect moment to get to Ezreal in the middle of the happy chaos. When Aphelios left Ezreal alone to refill his drink, Kayn went straight for it. He smoothly slid to him, wrapping his sneaky arm around his shoulders to get closer to his ear. Ezreal smiled at him, happy to see a familiar face among the sea of strangers.

“Hey, I need to charge my phone, but my charger is upstairs. Care to come with me?” He asked in an obvious flirty tone. Ezreal looked surprised at his proposal, but his expression changed as he remembered something.

“I have a charger in my fanny pack” Ezreal offer him to use his, so his bestie wouldn’t struggle. He scrambled around the pocket and pulled a charger out. Kayn looked flabbergasted at the charger in his hand, then saw Ezreal’s good boy puppy eyes, and just sigh. He couldn’t believe he was that stupid to not notice the innuendo.

Kayn’s second attempt was after a tiring band practice session. Heartsteel went to a donut shop to grab a quick snack and coffee. Ezreal always takes his sweet time to pick out a donut. His glance danced around the different colorful options in the display. Since his impatient band members already got their donuts, they went back to the studio, leaving him behind. Kayn decided to wait for Ezreal.

“This is so hard! I don’t know if I want an oreo donut or a classic glazed one” Ezreal cried out. Kayn smirked, this was his opportunity.

“I love glazed donuts.” Kayn got close enough to him, so he could whisper “I wish I could glaze your donut” with a velvety tone.

“I tried making my own donuts once, but it was a complete fail.” Ezreal said, remembering that time he almost set his house on fire because he tried to make homemade donuts.

“What?” Kayn asked confused. How could he answer his flirting with that? Was Ezreal rejecting him?

“I’ll get a glazed donut. Such a classic! Thanks, Kayn.” Ezreal went to the register to order while leaving a confused Kayn behind.

He just stood there, watching Ezreal happily ordering, while he was falling into the pit of a possible rejection. Kayn has never been rejected by anyone before. He was a handsome, funny and interesting guy with an amazing fashion sense. How could Ezreal not see that?

Kayn third and last attempt was at the studio, after another day of recording vocals for their new single. Ezreal and Kayn were sitting on the studio couch. Ezreal was playing on his phone while Kayn was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. They were making Yone some company while he worked on his laptop.

“How long are you going to take? I’m hungry,” Ezreal whined.

“As long as I need to,” Yone spat, annoyed.

Ezreal stood up to go to the hallway. Kayn followed him, in case he was going to grab a bite because he was hungry as well. He followed him to an expending machine full of snacks. Ezreal was eating a dollar apple pie while looking out of the window.

“How ironic. A cutie pie eating an apple pie,” he flirted with a smirk.

“Oh my gosh,” he giggled. “Someone will think you are flirting with me.” Kayn was flabbergasted.

“Jesus Christ, Ezreal. I AM flirting with you!” Kayn rubbed his forehead so he didn’t get a headache for dealing with such a twat. A cute twat.

Ezreal blushed and stopped eating. His eyes opened as he couldn’t believe what his ears were listening. At this point, Kayn was blushing too. He was never been so straightforward with anyone.

“Why didn’t you say so?!” Ezreal asked, embarrassed.

“Huh?!” Kayn asked in disbelief. “I was being so obvious!”

“Not obvious enough,” Ezreal mumbled back.

They stared at each other with blushed cheeks. Kayn didn’t felt like this since high school. His hand were sweaty, his face was hot, and his legs were shaking. He just told him he likes him, but what now? Ezreal wasn’t saying anything as well, which make him even more nervous. Kayn didn’t know how to act upon this. Should he ask him out, run away, or deep dive into the ocean and drown?

Kayn looked as Ezreal once again. He always looked so energetic and happy, so it was really weird seeing him so shy. “He hasn’t rejected me yet,” Kayn thought about the possible scenarios.

“So…” Ezreal whispered to kill the awkward silence. “Do you want to hang out later?” Kayn smiled softly at his attempt at flirting.

“Just hang out?” Kayn flirted back as he got slowly closer to him.

“Only if you want! We don’t have to!” Ezreal stepped back into a column.

Kayn put his arm over his head so he could lean closer to him. Ezreal’s face looked a like a tomato. Their faces were so close that they were sharing breaths. Kayn looked down at Ezreal as if he was a small bunny he was preying on. A smirk appeared on his face as soon as he realized that he was making him nervous for all the right reasons. Ezreal liked him back.

“What if I want to do more than just “hang out”?” Kayn asked, having fun with the current situation.

“I guess… we can” Ezreal mumbled before covering his face with both hands to cover his blushing cheeks.

“It’s a date then,” Kayn said as he pulled back to go back with Yone. Ezreal stood there a couple seconds more. His mind was running around, trying to process what just happened. His head couldn’t comprehend that he had a date with Kayn. A shy smile appeared on his face as he followed Kayn back to the studio.

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[xoxitgirl]

⊹₊ ⋆ seasons results! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

⟡ part one ⟡

so usually I try to write it down from the day i start and document the results from then but I literally forgot lmaoo so heres it broken down into every couple days/every week! ima keep this method tho ngl because its so useful but this is probably gonna be a long post bc i wanna be as raw as possible w ya’ll.

season one: jdnavsthewrld ⋆𐙚 ₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡

overview

so first and foremost—my season is going to be filled with all of my designs blowing up, making hundreds of dollars a week, improving my relationship with my boyfriend, and getting a new charger. I wrote out everything in detail so that way it was easier for me to understand exactly what I want like shipping out orders and stuff in my new car, taking a trip to NY, collaborating with some designers that I really like + meeting some designers as well, having hella photo shoots, etc! so it starts off with me getting a new car, it’s easier for me to process all of my orders and get yarn/make clothing just because I have a more efficient car.

dec 3-10

this week was full of me reminding myself im living in my season and my whole idea is about my buisness blowing up and a new carr so ngl its already blown up a little cause someone posted my skirt but it slowed down and now its picking back up. one thing that I’m trying to remember is that I’m not going to know how good it is to have a lot of sales unless I know what it’s like to have lower sales like understanding the duality of owning a business that not every single day you’re going to have the most ideal amount of sales, but that time to be creative and breathe will definitely lead you to that outcome in the long run. I made 4 sales this week so its definitely making me feel a little like imposter syndrome like this cant be happening blah blah blah but I quickly redirected my thoughts to, “what happens in my season? my business was meant to blow up, this is what I’m meant to be doing.”

dec 11-18

okay I made 6 more sales, when I started I had 25 now I’m at 35 so I feel hella confident because I’m constantly falling asleep doing SATS. I can literally feel all the excitement and anxiety and nerves that come with an abundance of success. I sold my biggest custom order to a new client, this two piece set and a fur skirt so I’m like damn. its only bigger and better from here. another thing I added was me and my boyfriend are getting better and connecting more and I feel like our relationship is definitely growing in a healthier way. I made around $300 this week from my pieces so I cant even be upset if I wanted to (,:

dec 19-25

so okay new updateee I sold another 3 item set so I made another $100 this week, mind you im writing this the 21st so the week’s not even over yet, and I feel hella confident in my season. I finally finished drafting everything thats happening. im also having a lot of fun maintaining that it’s already mine. I literally spend so much time vaunting. I was meant to be a designer. of course I have sales, im that bitch. people loovee my clothes cause who else is doing it like me? literally nobodyy. this is what gets me to feel more confident too, if you’re not reassuring yourself who is yk? and my relationship is sooo goodd 🥺 like its been so peaceful and my bf has been surprising me with pinterest dates and shit like what is my lifee!!

ima come back and update after my moms bday, I always have a routine for the new year which is expelling all old energy. like cleaning my room, donating clothes, i also sage everything, make new sigils, wash my hair and alll my clothes so yeah lol i have a feeling the new energy will be beautiful.

dec 26-jan 2

okay I’ve been learning how to sew and I’ve been getting really really good at it. like making my own pieces by myself—before I used to have my mom help me, but now I actually know how to sew fr. I wanna show y’all so ill insert some things ive made/been making. ngl tho I think ima give it like a week or so more to really saturate my mind because I been listening to this sub by slade and its really been helping but I gotta focus on consistency! so thats really what im focusing on through the 15th so more updates around then!! my goal is to have more posts and get ready for a mini photoshoot.

jan 3-jan 12

jan 4th.. coming up with designs that are exactly what I envision/things that ive never seen knit or done in this style. made my collab post but skeptical about when I should make my collab collection so well see but I feel like the things im making rn are multimillion dollar designs like I can feel it in my core. also about to clean my car out soon to trade my car in for the charger of my dreams, apparently my parents were looking for chargers for monthsss and didn’t tell me cause they wanted to surprise me.. for reference y’all I literally have a charger sub i made 5 months ago and was so in my head about it but now i feel like my mind is fully saturated. every time I drive, it feels like im already in a new car, I imagine it in the driveway. I already have it in the 4d so its beyond mine in the 3d.

jan 7.. omg so update, I literally cleaned my car out today and I’m trading it in on friday like what the fuck is my lifee I knew it would happen but this was the first time where I realy put my foot down and envisioned myself driving the car literally everywhere. I race ppl like im in a charger already lmaoo the planes were bound to align sooner or later!! ill insert how it looks when it gets here yall we might have to order it but this is the first step in my journey—I get my charger, my design acc blows up, and so forth. (;

okay hi guys I made 2 sales recently and I just got my charger, everything literally feels like it’s falling into place and it’s kind of surreal. I think I’m gonna make a part two for my results because this post is getting helllla long but I GOT A 2023 CHARGER STX and tbh I wanted an R/T but the only one I could get was 2015 so im just hella happy I got a brand new car and it looks EXACTLY HOW I WANT—black rims, spoiler, it looks so mean!!! ugh im in love. peep my noface air freshener from my last car (,: and it only has 10 miles yall… I love using seasons so much

next post coming by valentines day! 💋

itgirl ⊹ ࣪ ˖

[usagichuu]

university!dan heng x reader oneshot

a/n: a continuation of the university!dan heng headcanons! it’s been a while since ive properly written so please bear w me, not proofread so also plz bear w me

genre: sfw, first kiss, gn reader

notes: i actually do a lot of archival research in uni irl and hence this scenario has crossed my mind many times but for context for those who haven’t been around uni libraries before: to maximize space many libraries will have their shelves packed together in one huge block of shelves, so you can’t actually access the shelves by walking between them. in order for you to access the shelf you’re looking for you need to turn a wheel on the corresponding shelf to push the adjacent shelves aside and open up a pathway for you to walk between the shelves (does this even make any sense?). but you need to be careful! because if you aren’t paying attention, someone in another row may be trying to get a book and when you open up yours you might squish them :( anyways! context so this makes sense.

It’d been a few weeks into the semester since you first met him at the library, since those steely gray eyes that peered over at you from the front desk seemed to puncture right through your defences. It’s funny how one day of forgetting your laptop charger could turn into a new daily routine of dropping by the library, requesting to rent one just so you could be struck again. Charger rentals quickly turned to him asking you about the books you’re reading to chats about classes. Then one day he started leaving you cups of tea on your desk for your late night sessions - and always when you have your head down for a power nap so you can’t ever thank him. But the teabag in your cups are always the same brand as the ones you see dangling from his thermos, though he will always deny it.

Today you actually did need his help, though. You were looking for a specific book that was not in the regular library shelves, and needed someone to guide you through the labyrinth that was the archives. Luckily for you, Dan Heng seemed to know them like the back of his hand.

“Sorry to take you away from your job like this.”

“I work at the library help desk. You are asking for my help,” he says matter-of-factly, “This is quite literally my job.”

The archive stacks lay out before the two of you, with stacks on stacks of shelves stretched out for what must be all the way from East to West campus. With the archives located in the library’s underground level, it was entirely plausible. The archives room was lit by large fluorescent panels on the ceilings, which seemed to hang low compared to the tall shelves. It was crazy how in a room that loomed this large, they still had to stack the shelves together to accommodate all of them. Each shelf had a great big wheel on its side, which you knew you had to turn to roll the adjacent shelves aside, allowing you passage to the shelf of your choice. With the smell of finely aging books curling yellow with the years wafting through the room and these great big contraptions of shelves, being down here almost felt otherworldly. You looked to Dan Heng - how long must someone spend down here to sift through the shelf labels as algorithmically as he did?

“May I?” Snapping out of your awe, you found him holding his hand out to you, expectantly. Wait - what?

“Huh?”

“Your phone. I forgot the call number.”

Oh. You hand your phone over. This deep into the archives, with the fortress of shelf stacks in front and behind you, the ceiling lights could only reach so far. So when he opened your phone, the light of the screen gently illuminated his face.

“Interesting background.”

“Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Friendly banter is an effective way to make a friendly atmosphere between library staff and visitors.

“I didn’t take you for the bantering type.”

Just before you swear you could detect an almost imperceptible smile. But just as quickly as it came, the light of your phone was snuffed out.

“Here it is,” he set both hands firmly on the wheel, turning and rolling what must have been eight stacks of shelves aside, which gave way with a creak and the crackle of plastic-wrapped books. A space opened up between your two target shelves, just wide enough for one of you at a time to pass through.

“Looks cozy,” you say, taking a step inside. But you knew this was the farthest right he could push the shelves, and you didn’t want to trouble him to push aside any more. “Let’s go find that book.”

You two work silently, scanning the bookshelves row by row: you on one side and him on the other, meeting in the middle. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little flustered when you two bumped shoulders as you finished the first row, him just silently turning to you, shaking his head. It’s not on this one. And then you two proceeded to the next row.

You went on like this for a little bit, occasionally accidentally brushing hands as you two closely watched the book spines, only for you to hurriedly draw your hand away. But row by row, shelf by shelf, he started to move his hand to yours first, your hands lingering, skin to skin, for just a moment as you both pretended to be carefully observing the last book. Never daring to look the other in the eye lest either one betrays the look on their face. First a brush of the knuckles, them the backs of your fingers, then-

The shelves began to close together with a heavy groan. They must have been so quiet, else must not have realized you two were there, and began to close up the stacks, and they were closing in quickly.

Dan Heng immediately put himself between you and the incoming shelf, bracing himself on the shelf behind you. “Excuse me!” He shouts to the stranger, and the shelves ceased.

The stranger called back. “Sorry! I’ll be done in a sec!”

The momentary shock settling down, you realized the position you were in: the two of you, pressed dangerously close together, Dan Heng with one arm above you to steady himself on the shelf behind you, looking down at you. Your faces were so close as you turned your head up to look at him, you felt a lock of his hair brush your forehead.

“Are you alright?”

You open your mouth to say something, when you realize that with his body pressed to yours he could feel your heart beating wildly in your chest - and was that his thrumming in response? Must the adrenaline from saving you from the shelves be getting him this worked up? Why was your own heart still fluttering if the threat is over? And… Why did your face feel so warm?

“I’m…” You look into his eyes for the first time since you two entered the shelves - he’s handsome. Devastatingly handsome. The faint ceiling lights cut through the shelves, offering a window of light for you to look at him, him to look at you.

“Sorry… Is this too close?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s… It’s fine…”

Your eyes wandered - could he see where they were looking? Down his face to his lips, and you tried to focus on something - anything - to distract you but all that was before you was him, his eyes gray like winter above you, his heart thumping through his jacket and against your chest, and his lips, god, his lips.

You two stand in silence as you try to peel your eyes away from him. But then he gently puts his free hand under your chin, tipping it back up to look at him. You can’t hide it now - you cheeks flushed pink, the way you’re looking at him. Your foreheads are touching now, his eyes searching yours as his gentle breath fans across your face, a few locks of hair on your cheek stirring. You quietly whisper.

“Is teasing me also part of your job description?”

A flutter of his eyelashes. Yours closing in response. Your hearts, drumming up courage in you both as he lowers his face and you bring yours up to meet his.

And then the gentlest, gentlest of kisses. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, and his hand under your chin drops to your waist in response, drawing you near. His kisses are long and drawn out, then punctuated: short, sweet like haiku syllables, playing out on your lips, writing you to life.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

a/n: thanks for reading yahoo!

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