#yes deadly kiss made both lists. is anyone really surprised

[livingincolorsagain]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

hey kenna! thank you sm for the ask! <3

Rough Surfaces

There was an inherent loneliness to being Captain America.

And it wasn’t like Sam had never been lonely before. He'd been lonely, he’d been alone, and he’d been lonely and alone, but there was something about this, a feeling so old he was surprised he could still feel it; that it still affected him.

That hollow silence that was once filled with the sound of life.

Figaro meowed and Alpine didn’t answer, and for a split second, Sam forgot. He panicked.

Then he remembered, and it weighed him down, an ache so deep it felt engraved into his very being.

And really, it was fine. It wasn’t like he couldn’t do this alone, he could, but.

He didn’t want to.

Mostly, he had started to believe he wouldn’t have to.

Probably the most obvious choice. This one is very important and personal to me and while I’m slowly working on it, it’s definitely one I’m constantly thinking about. It started as just a small piece about Sam and Bucky fighting in the rain and grew legs and wings and look at us now, five chapters in and it’s a feast of angst and feels and growth and they’re slowly but surely gonna make their way back together.

must’ve been a deadly kiss (only love can hurt like this)

Sam imagined wedding planning was already stressful enough without fighting bad guys on a regular basis.

As it was, Sam was Captain America, and he had a job to do.

He also had a very disgruntled fiancé who followed him wherever he went.

Another fairly obvious choice. I always talk about how proud I’m of this fic and it remains true. IMO it’s some of my best writing. All the little details and how it comes full circle. Really some of the most fun I had writing a fic.

but baby i'm a fool for you

After several attempts at getting back in the dating game, Bucky bites the bullet and asks Sam for dating advice. Chaos ensues.

(Or, Bucky and Sam are dating, and they're the last to find out about it.)

This one was very fun to write. I miss writing them as oblivious idiots in love. All the chaos and humor and drama and fluff and pining. It’s also probably my most popular sambucky fic.

You're my Calling (Cure my Longing)

Sam turns mid-sentence, gesturing ferociously at Bucky. The couple he’s talking to has big smiles that get bigger as he goes on, turning his back away from Bucky, talking with his whole body.

Bucky frowns and downs the last of his beer, debating if he should go over and join the conversation that’s obviously about him or if he should stay where he is, by the sidelines, watching from far away and–

Then Carlos is passing him and saying, “Congratulations, Bucky. Took y’all long enough,” and Bucky pauses, bewildered into stillness, but Carlos is gone before Bucky has the chance to ask what in the world he’s talking about.

I love this one so much. Writing drunk Sam was super fun and I should do it more often. Was just really an absolute joy to write all around. The old couple and Sam being so touchy-feely and them talking about getting cats. Sigh. I need to write more fics like this lol.

and i play it on repeat (until i fall asleep)

co-written with @saryasy

“And for my last question, what’s next for you? Cap, you want to go first?”

Sam’s answer to this question has stayed the same throughout the day. He’s going to keep doing what he does best, fighting the good fight, protecting the people, and giving help to those who need it.

The thing is, all day, no one has asked Bucky what’s next for him. So, even though the way she worded it implied she’s asking Bucky next, Bucky’s completely blindsided when she turns to him and says, “What about you, Sergeant?”

There’s a long pause, Bucky’s mind blanking. He must have stared too long at the interviewer because Sam subtly nudges him.

So, without giving it much thought, Bucky says, “I’m gonna keep doing what I do best, watching Cap’s six and being an unpredictable, unstable human being.”

“That’s quite hot.”

Oblivion idiots? In my sambucky? More likely than you think. Writing this Sary was the best thing ever! So much fun and memories and metaphorically hovering over her shoulder. She’s a fantastic writer and a very patient and kind person and made this one of the most amazing writing experiences ever. 10/10 experience, can’t wait to do it again.

[solastia]

Love And Lies | 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x F!Reader

Summary: You are a simple maid. When your lady and dearest friend need help escaping an arranged marriage with King Seokjin so they might be together, you do the only thing you can - take her place. 

A/N: It was my intention to not post this story until it was totally completed, but I got too excited. There are about three chapters already in my drafts and I just really like how it’s turning out. Don’t worry, I’m still totally working on everything else too. I’m just going through a list of popular tropes that I’ve never gotten around to writing for, and this one covers both historical and arranged marriage. I’ll be posting the last chapter of Tuqburni as soon as I get it back from my beta and finish any corrections. Make sure to leave lots of comments on this one! 

“I will not do this. He cannot force me to marry some strange man for his own selfish grab for power.”

“He can. You know he does this with your best interests in mind, my lady. And everything is already arranged. You leave in the morning.”

You listen to the now familiar argument as you fold your mistress’s garments into the opulently decorated trunks. A door slams, followed by a crash like something delicate hit the wall and a high-pitched scream resonated throughout the massive bedroom.

You sigh tiredly, knowing that the woman’s ire was going to be filling your own ears next.

“What are you doing, ___? I just said I wasn’t going.”

Lady Eleanor Rose D’Aily flounced back into her bed chambers, her rosy lips turned down in a petulant pout and her wilting golden curls bouncing around as she flung herself across her bed.

“I’m afraid Master Steward already spoke with me while you were on your afternoon ride. He ordered me to pack your belongings and warned that guards would be here to escort us at first light. And,” you add, flashing a warning glance at your impulsive charge, “He informed me that guards are being placed outside of your doors and windows should you attempt to escape your fate.”

“Ugg, this is torturous. Why is Papa doing this? I always thought he’d want to keep me close. Why send me to some old man that I’ve never met and will never love?”

“I dare say he believes he secured his beloved child a bridegroom most could only dream of. After all, you’ve been selected by the King of Verinthia himself - who is not yet thirty, mind you. You’re to be Queen Eleanor of Verinthia. Think of all the wondrous things you can do for your people.”

At that her lady sighed, pondering that point. For though your mistress was unarguably spoiled, she still had a good heart. You had no doubt that if she were to be Queen, a great deal of good would be done under her reign.

“But...Jungkook. I don’t want to marry anyone but Jungkook.”

And that was the core of this rebellion. As cliché as it was, Lady Eleanor - the only child of the Duke Of Nevers - was in love with a mere Knight.  

Sir Jungkook Jeon had basically been raised right alongside Eleanor after being sent by his Baron father to foster under the Duke. The lad was the youngest of eight and there was nothing left for him to inherit, so he was sent out to make his own way in the world.

He had started as a pageboy at the age of nearly eight, became the Duke’s squire at fourteen, and had been knighted and declared Captain of Lady Eleanor’s guard at eighteen. All of his formative years had been spent here at Nevers and all of them included his tiny blonde shadow begging for some scrap of his attention. The fact that somewhere along the line that childhood friendship morphed into love did not surprise you overly much.

Especially since you had been their third wheel for just as many years, and they were your dearest friends - as much as one can be friends between nobles and servants.

You had been assigned to the six-year-old Eleanor when you had been eleven, and she had always treated you more as a big sister than simply her personal maid. Therefore, you had been dragged through every mischievous plot the two had come up with, listened to them wax poetic about each other until you wished your ears would fall off, and helped transport letters between the two like their own personal pigeon.

However, no one cheered for their love more than you, either. Your lady was pampered and naïve but possessed a kind heart and a fun-loving personality that made her hard to dislike. Add to that Sir Jungkook’s honor and legendary ambition - tempered by his mischievous tendencies - and you had a match blessed by the heavens.

As far as you were aware, he’d been the very picture of Knightly chivalry and had not given in to your lady’s more impulsive urges for…taking liberties. Though you could often catch him staring longingly at Eleanor, she often bemoaned his refusal to so much as kiss his lord’s daughter beyond a chivalrous one on the back of her hand.

And now - now the poor Sir Jungkook was going to have to watch the love of his life being sent to the King. Your heart aches for the pair.

You watch as a single glistening tear rolls down your lady’s flawless cheeks.

“Do you think Papa and His Majesty will at least let me keep Jungkook as my Captain?”

You sigh and sit next to her, reaching over to run your fingers through her hair soothingly.

“He’s going to be part of our escort, but that’s it. Once we reach the palace, the Duke has stated that he’ll be granting Jungkook leave from the remaining year of service he owed - along with a keep of his own for his many years faithfully served. I heard him say it was about time Sir Jungkook started a family of his own.”

“And that’s not going to happen with anyone but my Ellie.”

The two of you whirled when the words reached you from her balcony, where a disheveled Sir Jungkook heaved himself from the massive oak he had climbed to get there.

“Jungkook!” Eleanor exclaimed happily, throwing herself at the beaming Knight.

How beautiful they looked together, even with Eleanor’s eyes reddened from tears and the leaves and twigs adorning Jungkook’s long ebony hair which had long been released from it’s usual leather tie.

“Greetings, Sis,” Jungkook grins cheekily over Eleanor’s shoulder at you.

“Evening greetings to you, Sir J…” Jungkook clears his throat at you in warning. You sigh wearily, “Fine. Greetings, Jungkook. What brings you to a chamber where you’re likely to get all our heads lopped off?”

His grin transforms into a smile of triumph as he holds Eleanor to his side tightly. “I had an idea!”

“Ooh, yes. That is news,” you nod, letting humor color your tone in the privacy of this room.

Eleanor giggles while Jungkook merely rolls his eyes. “I’m deadly serious. I have a solution that will be wonderful for us all.”

“Ohhh, My handsome Knight is so wise,” Eleanor sighs and leans her head into the preening man’s shoulder.

“You haven’t even heard the plan yet. It could be absurd,” you snort, rolling your eyes.

“It’s...a little absurd,” Jungkook muses aloud, and you grunt at Eleanor as if to say ‘Told you so.’

“Out with it, my love. I’m willing to consider anything to get us out of this madness,” She implores him with an impatient tug on his sapphire tunic - the one that Eleanor had hand-embroidered herself for nearly two years, you noticed.

“I will indeed escort you to the palace. However, once there…” Jungkook begins nervously, while you glare at him in suspicion. He refuses to meet your eyes straight on. This was never a good sign.

“Yes? Once there…” you prompt with a quirked eyebrow.

“Once there...you’ll switch with Ellie,” he says with an audible gulp. “She’ll pretend to be your maid in public and you’ll be the King’s betrothed. I’ll tell the Duke that I will stay on as Captain of the guard until I receive several copies of the deed to the keep he promised me. Once I have that in hand, Ellie and I will wed and it will be too late for him to stop us. You can simply tell the King that you don’t think you’ll suit and then I’ll spirit you both away to my keep!”

You were appalled. “So many sins in that one little plan. So many lies and…” you angrily huffed, folding your arms. “Jungkook, no one is going to believe that I’m a Duke’s daughter, nor a candidate to be Queen. My mother is a seamstress and my father is a tanner. I don’t have a single drop of noble blood in my veins. I’ll be found out and beheaded in a day.”

“Oh, but you’ve essentially been raised in a Duke’s household,” Eleanor added helpfully, obviously on board with Jungkook’s foolish plan for the simple reason that it came out of his mouth. “You were right at my side through every lesson and know everything as well as I,” she cocked her head as she stared at you thoughtfully. “And not that it will come to that, but I think you would make a wonderful Queen.”

Jungkook smiles fondly at his love, bringing her hand up to his lips to place a chaste kiss on the back of it before he strides purposely towards you. The Knight falls to one knee before you and grasps both of your hands into his, looking up at you with warm brown eyes.

“You have always been our dearest friend and the sister of our hearts, no matter our stations. I know what I’m asking of you is more than a simple favor - it’s a risk to our lives, though mainly yours. Know that I do not ask lightly, for your life is as precious to me as my Ellie’s. This is the only way I can think of to save myself and her from a life of misery. I have tried everything, Sis. I...I even dropped to my knees and begged the Duke for permission to court her.”

“You did what? When was this?” Eleanor exclaimed, and even you leaned forward in shocked wonder.

“A fortnight ago. That’s when he offered me the keep. He simply laughed at my request and said that I have been too isolated here and must have forgotten that other women exist beyond these walls. That I only offered for Ellie out of familiarity. He said perhaps if he hadn’t had better offers for her he would have considered it since I am a fine man, but he’d already talked up the King and no one could ask for better than that,” he finishes with a mocking scoff.

You sigh heavily and glance out the balcony window at the darkening sky. It was true that all seemed rather hopeless for the two of them. No doubt if you ignored this plan and simply went forward with the way it was supposed to, Eleanor would despise you. You would be instrumental in denying her from being with her love and shuffled off to an affectionless arranged marriage. Jungkook would either go off to his keep and live alone forever or demand a position in the palace to keep watch over her from afar, breaking his own heart day after day.

But...there was also your own self to consider. Say you did this thing...you would have to pretend for however long it took for Jungkook to get his affairs in order that you were the daughter of one of the most powerful nobles in the land. That there was something about you worth placing on the throne next to the young King and ruling over the lives of thousands. And if you were to slip up even once, you could spend the rest of your life in the dungeon or beheaded in the royal courtyard.

If you were wiser, perhaps less sentimental, you would say them nay. You would continue packing and close your ears to their pleas. However, when Eleanor drops to her knees next to Jungkook and stares at you imploringly with tears in her pretty blue eyes, twining her hand into her love’s like it might be the last time, you knew you were going to relent. No two people deserved to be with each other more than they. And besides, if this plot were successful, you would tag along to the new keep with them and happily stand at their side as they built a new life together, full of love and hope, and possibly children. You certainly had doubts about the two of them as parents without you around anyway. Jungkook would give their child a real sword at two years and wonder why people were missing ears. Eleanor would cry when it came time to change a nappie.

“Get up, you two,” you grunt wearily. What had you done to deserve being stuck with these two for life? “I’ll do it.”

“You will?” Eleanor squealed, throwing herself onto you with a whirl of costly silk and rose oil.

You nod. “I will do my best. Just know that if I die, I will haunt both of you.”

Jungkook grins, “We’d deserve it.”

He grabs your hand and places a brisk kiss on the back of it, then does the same for Eleanor before striding back towards the balcony.

“Get some rest, ladies. We leave at first light and it will take us several days to reach the palace by carriage.”

He vaults over the balcony onto the oak tree and disappears from sight. Eleanor sighs and sits next to you on the bed, lacing an arm in yours and placing her head on your shoulder.

“Think you this scheme will work?” She asks softly.

“It has to,” you whisper.

And it does. The consequences if it did not were far too dire.

[redworld96]

Nakaba Suzuki's interview from “Pair Sin: King & Diane Guidebook” talking about King, Diane and Howzer. (November 2018).

1. How did King and Diane come to be a couple?

Nakaba: Unlike Meliodas and Ban, I came up with King and Diane without planning to make them a couple from the beginning. The same Diane, for example, was at first unrequitedly in love with Meliodas. Then King appeared, and I decided that let him be unrequitedly in love with Diane, because it is interesting to look at the development of the relationship between the couple "fairy and giant". Well, that's what we came up with in the end. As you can see, these two are slightly different from the couples of previous guidebooks.

2. King is the king of the fairies, but compared to Meliodas and Ban, he acts cowardly and looks rather childish.

Nakaba: In a good way, he "didn't come out of childhood." Something like the lead of the seventh-eighth class: he seems to be responsible, and strives for leadership, but still a child inside.

3.He often suffers from doubts, I must say.

Nakaba: Of all the Seven Deadly Sins, he has perhaps the finest mental organization. Take, for example, the same Meliodas: his attitude towards his beloved and the strength of his feelings for her far exceed all reasonable limits. Well, maybe the point is that the rest of the "Sins" are just too arrogant, ha-ha!

4.Why is King showed as a fat man on the wanted list?

Nakaba: Apparently he was very nervous at first when he was in the Seven Deadly Sins. (King turns into a fat man when he's nervous)

5.These transitions from the appearance of an old man to a sweet boy are also not devoid of their charm.

Nakaba: Actually, my original idea was to make the "Sins" posters completely different from their real faces. During a discussion with the editor, there was a proposal to make his second look younger, but still settled on a fat man, because the contrast was stronger.

6.What about Diane? When I first saw her, I wondered if she was too big?

Nakaba: I decided to make her so big that she looked absolutely fantastic and unreal.

7.Her size is very noticeable when there are other characters nearby. What difficulties do you have to face while drawing her?

Nakaba: Usually, the camera angles are when Diane is looking at someone from above or when someone is looking at her from below, but there is no particular difficulty. Although it happens that another character is in the frame as a whole, and only a face from Diane, ha ha! But the same angles quickly become boring, so I introduced the shrinking pills into history. Well, a serious calm giantess would look intimidating, so I purposely gave her girly features and details in the costumes.

8.She hides her mouth with her hair very cute when she is embarrassed.

Nakaba: I remember that at school girls did the same when they were embarrassed. Perhaps, somehow unconsciously, I drew Diane with such habit.

9.Initially, Diane was unrequitedly in love with Meliodas, but were you going to make her a rival for Elizabeth?

Nakaba: The rivalry would have been if Meliodas reacted (or didn't) the same to both Elizabeth and Diane. Therefore, from the very beginning, I was not going to force Diane to get in between them - this is not a love comedy. But the unrequited love Diane turned out to be so touching and really liked the readers.

10.But Meliodas is still dear to Diane, right?

Nakaba: Yes, because he was the first person to treat her like a girl, and unfeminine girls like Diane are especially happy about that. Plus, he saved her.

11.Now tell us how Howzer came to be.

Nakaba: His best friend Gilthunder is exemplary handsome, so I wanted to do his complete opposite and gave Howzer a pompadour hairstyle and a bully personality.

12. Howzer is quite closely related to Diane, but he does not seem to show such obvious romantic sympathies ...

Nakaba: Right. Some people misinterpret his attitude. Howzer finds Diane very sweet, but even in his thoughts he has no intention of meeting her. Sometimes, looking at the merciful King and Diane, he will think something in the spirit of “Oh, lovebirds, eh!”. But his case is not at all the same as, for example, Jericho's towards Ban.

13. Recently, Howzer's pompadour has become more pronounced, it seems to me.

Nakaba: At first I drew him a pompadour-like hairstyle, but then there was a moment when Howzer appeared after a long break, and it was clearly in my memory that he had a full-fledged pompadour, and that's how it happened. But now it has become easier to draw it.

14. Howzer is surprisingly judicious in emergencies.

Nakaba: This is also in contrast to Gilthunder, who is usually reserved, but is noticeably aroused in battle. As you can see, this trait was appreciated by Howzer, since he was promoted right up to the Great Holy Knight.

15.Which of the three is easiest for you to draw, and who is more difficult?

Nakaba: Not that difficult, but I'm especially careful when painting King because he chooses who to talk to. Even in the group of The Seven Deadly Sins, he hardly interacts with anyone other than Diane. He's quite secretive and introverted, so I make sure these traits persist.

16.And in terms of drawing?

Nakaba: King is the most difficult. It all falls on the shoulders of my wife, ha ha!

17.What do you think is the beauty of King and Diane as a couple?

Nakaba: I think it’s their inexperience in this regard. There is no feeling of "family" among fairies and giants, which makes their relationship special; and many people like it, as far as I can tell.

18.And the proof is the number of scenes with an embarrassed and blushing King!

Nakaba: Well, yes, Meliodas harasses like some kind of pervert old man, and Ban cannot be embarrassed at all. But King has a pure and innocent heart, like the hero of a love comedy. His kiss’ scenes in general would be more suitable for any schoolboy, ha ha!

19. Diane sometimes puts King in her cleavage, without even thinking, and this makes him embarrassed even more often ...

Nakaba: Diane just doesn't think about men's opinions. I drew her keeping in mind the image of a sort of athletic elementary school girl. And for King I chose an eighth-grader boy, because it is in high school that they begin to have an active interest in the opposite sex. I think this difference creates the desired effect.

20.And Diane, meanwhile, had to endure twice the loss of memory.

Nakaba: After the battle in the capital, Diane began to slowly regain her memories of the past. At this rate, she would remember her feelings for King, and they would become a happy couple. But with their school-level love story, they would have stood out unfavorably against the background of Meliodas and Ban, and I didn't want that. Fortunately, I was just thinking of using Gowther in the plot, so I made him erase Diane's memory.

21.Gowther's act surprised many then!

Nakaba: Gowther's moves on Diane are the most effective. If he tried to use them on Meliodas, not only would he break off, but he would also get change in addition, haha! Well, then, when original Gowther returned her memory, it was Diane who best suited the role of the character who said the right words to him. In spite of everything, I think after the events of Volume 27, Diane, King and Gowther have developed a strong bond.

22.So, then everything will be smooth for them?

Nakaba: Somehow it’s not very satisfying to mock them even more, so I don’t think you should worry.

23.Which chapters with King and Diane do you like the most?

Nakaba: Probably the scene from Volume 27 when their feelings became mutual. I was finally able to breathe easy and stop worrying about this couple, which I have been drawing for so long.

24.The scenes where King rescues Diane are also pretty good.

Nakaba: In such scenes, he is always late, and someone already becomes a victim ... I myself, while drawing him, I think "Yes, hurry up, nice!"

25.Fukuyama Jun-san and Yuki Aoi-san (voice of King and Diane) noted in their interviews that they liked how Diane made one of her golems look like King during the Grand Tournament.

Nakaba: I think it was a manifestation of her love for King, which still remained in her despite her lost memory. Diane is honest, therefore she expresses her sympathy directly and openly. And King, on the contrary, monitors the reaction of the interlocutor and behaves accordingly. There is a little humanly ugly side on him, hehe. But that's what I like about him. Meliodas and Ban don't have that, so it's pretty interesting to draw.

26.If King and Diane get married, what kind of family life will they have?

Nakaba: I think they will always be that way and will be the same innocent and homely warm. Nobody will try to take a leading position. King is the king of the fairies, so he won't become henpecked either and at the right time he will be able to take matters into his own hands. But both will respect and take into account each other's opinions. Well, King will sometimes show off in front of Diane.

27.I can't wait to find out what kind of children they will have!

Nakaba: Well, you'll have to wait a little longer here ...

28.Any future wishes for King, Diane and Howzer?

Nakaba: My advice to King is not to be late anymore and protect Diane properly. To Diane, she can safely rely on King in everything. Well, good luck to Howzer as Great Holy Knight, ha ha! He is popular among readers, but in the story itself he does not have much success with girls. Hopefully he can find his lover. Personally, I think Guila would be good for him ... but I don't even know. Let him take his time in this search.

29.And finally, a few words to the readers!

Nakaba: The ending is approaching, the relationship is finally stabilizing. Well, you don't have to worry about King and Diane, they will be fine!

Sources: thesevendeadlysins-boarhat .com & Nanatsu no Taizai | Семь Смертных Грехов

[celestialflamesme]

| ROMEO, ROMEO, WHY ARE YOU ROMEO? | A Rowen One-shot | Fairy Tail |

Ships: Wendy Marvel x Romeo Conbolt

Tag list: @primaverafrog @luna-chan00 @biorckstudios18 @animaration-fts @cxndy-stxrs Excuse my horrible writing, I'm super drowsy coz of meds😅

Fairy Hills was the prettiest apartment ever (but maybe she was biased because she lived there) Wendy was currently out on her balcony, legs propped on the arms of her chaise and admiring the lovely hedge walls she'd help trim (Erza-nee got a little too excited with the hedge-scissors)

"I still can't believe you did that," Chelia guffawed.

Wendy replayed last week's events in her mind, wincing yet again.

...........

Working at Fairy Tail was like a dream come true. Wendy had come upon it by chance when her old Academy shut down without any warning. She blamed herself for what'd happened and was this close to giving up on theatre and dancing when Erza-nee decided to intervene.

"Work on that spin ONE MORE TIME! MORE PASSION!" Erza yelled, wielding the script as if it were a sword. (She might be scary at times, but Onee-san meant well.)

Chelia harrumphed through the call. "This is taking foreverrrrr."

"Chelia, you've been playing Among us for 2 hours." Wendy sighed, "You're one to talk about taking long."

"But I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO THIS CUTE CAFÈ!! WITH CATS!!"

"Half an hour moreee." The bluenette groaned. "Plus I still can't get this spin right!"

"Ah, that's why you've been working so hard," Wendy did not like how smug her friend sounded. "Isn't this the part where you meet the Soldier?"

Of course! Chelia, as her 'Official best-friend and Matchmaker!' would never rest until she found "love".

Unfortunately for her, Wendy, as a rule, was usually unbothered by romance of any sort.

It wasn't like she hated the idea; she found it quite adoreable that her friends growing up found 'their lobsters'. Some had their heart broken but they still tried with all they had, a fact that made it really hard to hate romance. (She was saying 'romance' way too much, wasn't she?)

The point was, she just didn't think she? was? a? well-suited? romantic? partner? In pre-school, the idea of a prince riding on a white horse and carrying her away made her:

A: Nauseous, because well, motion-sickness.

B: Wary, because "Porly-san said that if a stranger was to ever talk to her, she had to use the pepper spray in the left corner pocket of her backpack and if that didn't work, Erza-nee's pocket-knife would do just fine!" (Her teacher almost fainted that day.)

Well that and she'd never had a relationship to begin with, ever.

Crushes, sure. She'd had a few over the years. But considering her lack of courage? Or maybe it was the combined elder brother influence of Natsu-nii, Gajeel-nii and Erza-nee that scared away most boys. (Her last crush was scarred for his life....)

And it wasn't like she had time for it too, considering her full-time job at Fairy Tail.

She was daydreaming again. Moving on....

She deadpanned, "Yes. That's the only reason I need to get this right. Not because the entirety of Magnolia will watch it."

"Glad to know!" Chelia clapped her hands gleefully. "Now, as Ooba san says, 'SPIN MY LOVELIES!!" And she cut the call.

The bluenette was a little worried about her new partner. Practice for the new play had begun 3 weeks ago and there was no sight of him (or her, Erza refused to divulge any details...) Apparently they were from another Academy and were joining practice tomorrow. And despite herself, Wendy really really wanted to prove herself to them.

Being the youngest didn't mean she was any less talented than the others, and she'd be damned if she gave anyone any reason to prove otherwise.

"NOW FROM THE TOP!!"

Wendy spun back and forth on her feet and as the beat began playing, she twirled and reached her hand out in a grabbing motion-

Anndddd she just punched a guy in his face.

"SHIT!!"

"FUCK, I'M SORRY!!"

.............

Her new partner, Romeo (Romeo from theatre, lol) insisted he was fine and that it was his fault for interrupting her routine. He also complimented her punch (Who does that?!!)

Or maybe he really wanted her to stop crying. (He had a nose-bleed!! She caused it!!! Was that not reason enough to cry?!)

She sniffled. "BUT SERIOUSLY, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?! CAN I GET YOU ANOTHER BAG OF ICE?! I'M SO SO SORR-"

Romeo broke into a fit of laughter, making her blush (His laughter sounded like chiming bells. Was she even supposed to get attracted to partner's voices that way?)

Once his laughter subsided, a boyish smirk stretched lazily across his face at her pout.(Dear Mavis, he looked so pretty....)

"Romeo, at your service, ma'am!" He kissed the back of her hand. (Did she accidentally punch herself too? Was this all a hallucination?)

She spluttered, "U-uh Hi Wendy! SHIT," she dragged a hand across her face, making him chortle again, "I'm Wendy!"

................

The bluenette grumbled, "It's been 2 days, get over it."

"Nahhhh. I think I'll just let you drown in embarrassment for a few weeks," Her best friend swung her legs from where she was seated on the window ledge. "Ohhhh Ohhhh cute boy alert!"

"Uh-huh, sure," Wendy was too busy petting her kitten to pay her friend any attention.

"Anywho, how's the practice coming along? Is it awkward now between you two?" Chelia teased. Wendy gave a deadpan look and stroking Carla's fur, she mumbled, "We went out for lunch yesterday."

"WENDY MARVELL!!"

"CHELIA BLENDY!!! MY EARS!!!"

"Sorry," Chelia blushed. "Why the heck didn't you tell me this GODDANGIT?!!"

"Well uh." It was now Wendy's turn to blush. "I-"

"Cute guy keeps cycling past us. I think he's looking at you." Chelia commented with a raised eyebrow.

"Wait what?" Wendy tilted her head toward the wall separating Fairy Hills and the garden. Which is when her eyes met his own.

And Romeo, fair Romeo, crashed into the hedges.

..........

Both girls flinched. Wendy jumped off her seat and rushed downstairs, ignoring Chelia's surprised yelling.

"What are you doing here?!" She squeaked.

"We have got to stop meeting like this," Romeo groaned from where he was sprawled on the ground, "It's really not good for my lifespan and my ego."

Despite herself, she let out a giggle. "Get up, you...." Helping him up and dusting the weeds off his shoulders, she sighed. "You live nearby?"

"Well...."

"Do I even wanna know what you were doing cycling around here?" She rested her hand on her hip and raised a brow at his now perplexed expression. "Go on, I have all day."

"I was visiting a friend and uh, saw you at your balcony and wanted to say hi?" He scratched his neck, now colored pink. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

She huffed, "What am I going to do with you?" He looked at her with his little puppy dog-eyes (Drat. Foiled again!) and she gave in and smiled. "Let's get you cleaned up."

........

Seven minutes later, Romeo was sitting on her bed petting Carla, who'd taken a liking to him and ganging up on Wendy with Chelia.

"And the next second, she marches up to him and goes 'Excuse me, sir. But my friend wants a picture of your face. S-wait, WITH your face. FUCK, I MEAN WITH YOU!!' " Both were smacking the bed and laughing like there was no tomorrow.

Wendy groaned, her face buried in her hands, "Getting you two together was a bad idea."

"Aww, look at the widdle bluebug." Romeo teased.

"Cute, ain't she?" Chelia cheered. "So, when's the wedding?"

Pause.

"C-CHELIA!!"

"U-UM W-WEDDING?"

Chelia had a smug look on her face that Wendy did not like. "Well duh. You're his Juliet and he's your Peter Pan. Perfect, ain't it?!" She clapped her hands in delight.

Wendy felt like she was in a sauna with the way her face was heating up. One look at Romeo and she knew he felt the same.

"WHO RUINED MY PRECIOUS STRAWBERRIES?!!" A voice bellowed.

Chelia rushed to the window and turned to look at both with a pale face. "Uh oh, Titania's angry."

Romeo was visibly confused and scared for his life. Wendy felt faint.

"Haha, gotta go now guys! Bye Wen!" Chelia escaped through the door before Wendy could register her words.

"WHAT KIND OF FRIEND ARE YOU?!"

"The kind that doesn't want to die!" Her voice echoed from where she was downstairs. Damn it.

She locked gazes with Romeo. "I'll go assess the damage. You stay right there."

Romeo nodded.

She tiptoes into the garden, only to find Erza wielding a katana and looking deadly as ever.

"E-Erza-nee?"

The red-head turned to look at her with a menacing aura. Wendy gulped.

"What-what happened?" She dared ask.

"My precious strawberries are ruined." (Sure enough, the bush was uprooted. Oh dear.) Erza pointed at Romeo's bike with her katana. "The culprit will return for their bike and when they do, I WILL END THEM!!"

Well, there went any chance of negotiations. O-okay Erza-nee. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

Romeo had an eager look on his face when she returned. "So? What's the status?"

"Romeo," she stated calmly, "I mean this in the nicest way possible. You're dead."

He blanked. "Shit."

..........

"Operation: Run Romeo Run begins now, what's your status Little Boy Blue?" Wendy whispered through her earpiece. (Warren had given her a set for emergency situations.)

"In position, Tinker bell," Romeo's voice echoed through the other end. "You may begin!"

"ERZA-NEE, I MADE YOU SOME CAKE!!"

Sure enough, Erza rushed into the kitchen like her life depended on it, "Which kind?!!"

"Operation Stage 2 is a go, Boy Blue!" She whispered.

"This is DELICIOUS, Wendy!!" Erza nodded proudly. "I'll take it with me!'"

"NO!!!"

Erza narrowed her eyes suspiciously, "Why?"

"Be-because," Wendy stuttered, "I want to practice that spin once again!"

"Wendy," Erza grabbed her by her shoulders, "Dance hours are over. As a young girl, you must try socialising with your peers instead of practicing day and night. You'll tire yourself."

"I've reached the garden," Romeo said. "Is stage 3 a go?"

She hummed. Of course, both didn't anticipate-

"INTRUDER!! KILL MODE!!!" A siren rang in the distance and Wendy gulped.

She faintly registered a yelp from her earpiece.

Erza let out a war-cry and stalked outside.(Poor, poor Romeo) "THE INTRUDER IS HERE!! GET HIM!!"

Wendy shuddered, "RUN ROMEO RUN!!"

"I'M TRYING!!!" He squeaked, "SHE LOOKS LIKE SHE'S GOING TO KILL ME!!"

"COME HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE A TRUE WARRIOR, YOU FIEND!!!" Erza bellowed.

She leaned towards the window and watched as Erza chased Romeo (He was riding a bicycle and yet Erza was gaining in on him.)

"If I ever get out of this alive," Romeo groaned, "Would you go out with me?"

Wendy was grinning when she said, "Someone's gotta keep an eye on you, anyway."

...........

[consumedkings-archive]

“ i thought you only had eyes for me. ” serve us some unholy trinity queen xoxo

oh!!! hello dove!!! thank u for gracing my inbox i am SO unworthy but so happy to try and provide you some content!! i hope you don’t mind that i combined yours and @shallow-gravy’s requests.... they just felt like they fit so well together, i couldn’t resist  (ಥ﹏ಥ)

iii. vicious traditions ✤ the unholy trinity

john/elliot/diana + “i thought you only had eyes for me” and “i can’t stop picturing you with her” or: a dissertation on “Mine is a noun if you capitalize it” john seed struggling to reconcile sharing his wife and also having more of what he Wants. taken from this prompt list!

word count: 1.8k

warnings: language, sexual themes, but nothing explicit. as always, herald!elliot and john deserve their own warning. ✧･ﾟ also i only sort of proof read this so APOLOGIES IN ADVANCE

The first time Elliot kisses Diana, John thinks about it for three days after.

He’s known. Of course, he’s always known, because Elliot made it perfectly clear why she wanted the deputy from the get-go. I like her, she’d said, a phrase normally reserved for the most puzzling of obstacles. It’s not a game, isn’t fun if she doesn’t have to work for it, and on that front he and Elliot differ entirely—he would prefer Diana Baker’s complete and utter submission, in written and verbal form, handed over in a glass frame so that he can hang it on the wall in the bedroom to admire as he pleases.

In a way, he does. Each time there is a violent collision, each time their mouths and teeth meet, he holds onto it for a while—keeps it for himself, even though his wife is pacing herself, even though she reprimands him for rushing, for pushing Diana too far too fast.

Conversely, Elliot wants to work for it. She wants to get her hands dirty, elbows deep in the gore of Diana, the filthy fucking carnivore that she is, and normally John would love it; normally, it’s one of his favorite things about his wife, that she’s so willing to get the blood up to her elbows, no gloves required. Normally, he likes watching her sink her teeth in—but it’s different, now.

Diana is different. 

She has always been different. She is the exception to every one of their rules. They had taken lovers, before, to share—this was not new—but they had never taken someone permanently, not the way that Elliot wants Diana (and the way that John wants the deputy, too). They would have never tolerated this kind of blatant disrespect from anyone, not even a pretty little viper skittering through their garden.

But they do; whenever she takes something, Elliot will just go out and take it back. She’ll go out and build a new silo—it doesn’t replace the product, but what can you do—or she’ll pay the viciousness back, in turn, another way. Hit them somewhere else. They’re incapable, nearly, without Diana—so if she’s all the way in the Henbane, who’s going to pay attention to poor Fall’s End?

It goes like this, on and on, vicious cycles before Diana eventually finds herself back there. This evening, John expects no change of pace, but when Diana enters the room, Elliot’s eyes fix on her; he feels like the outside party, the interloper, because the blonde clicks her tongue and brings Diana, bloodied and bruised, to her with delicate fingers.

“Let me see,” Elliot says, the pads of her fingers tilting Diana’s chin up, smoothing along the pillar of her throat. John can only watch—memorizing the way Elliot touches her, different than the way Elliot touches him, both because he wants to covet the image in his mind for as long as possible and because, like watching a car crash in motion, he cannot look away.

And he cannot look away when his wife guides the deputy’s face to hers and kisses her, either. 

It’s not even a particularly enticing looking kiss, really. It’s nothing more than a chaste brush of lips, with all of the desexing of a kiss from the Pope, but the intent and the message behind it is clear, because Elliot’s eyes look to him pointedly.

See? The kiss says, his wife’s thumb coming up to drag on Diana’s lower lip, making the brunette’s breath hitch in her throat. See how good she is for us?

So yes, he can’t stop thinking about it. Not that night, and not the morning after, when Diana has left in their sleep—a shorter visit than usual, perhaps spooked by the physical intimacy, strange and alien in comparison to the way that John and her have locked lips before—and there is a whole conflict of emotions occurring in him for another two days after that.

I do like that she’s good for us, he thinks, watching Elliot at the vanity, pulling her hair back from her face. He does like it, he does like that Diana Baker comes back to them time and time again, but Elliot is their bridge—she’s the go-between, and this slow progress means that John has become the interloper.

“What is it?” Elliot asks, watching him through the mirror. She’s given up trying to put her hair up in a ponytail and instead now sits, cinched in a silk robe, chin in her hand as she gazes at him.

His mouth twists. He shifts back against the pillows. “I can’t stop picturing you with her.”

The blonde’s eyes don’t flicker, not even a little bit. Not a sliver of softness in her expression. She doesn’t move to comfort him—and she wouldn’t, but he wishes, sometimes, that she would come to him more readily; but any emotion, any feeling, makes her feel deranged, makes her feel seen, and one of those is worse than the other—but rather watches him.

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” Elliot smooths a strand of hair from her face. “For you to think about your girls? Together?”

John’s mouth plants itself in a frown. “I’m not being funny, hellcat.”

“What’s so different?” she says at last.

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” It’s her turn to shift carefully moving some items on the vanity out of the way—trinkets, kept from her childhood. “What’s so different this time?”

“It’s—she’s yours,” John posits.

“Noelle was mine,” Elliot says plainly. “You loved Noelle. You called us your little wolves.”

“Yes, well—” He sits up, swallowing. “It’s different.”

Elliot turns in her seat so that she’s looking at him now, and he can see it—the brows furrowing, the defiant tilt of her chin in his direction. “So I’ve gathered.”

“Elliot—”

“But I’m asking what makes it different.”

“It’s different because you picked her!” John snaps, finally, the hot spike of emotion flaring in his chest. “You singled her out. She’s your—”

“Our.”

“She’s not mine,” he manages out, voice bridging on strained. “She’s not, and you know that. And you want her for longer. It’s always just been a little while, and you want to keep her, don’t you?”

Elliot stares at him. “Don’t you?”

Yes, John thinks, furious, mouth dry. Yes, I do. I want her for-fucking-ever, the same way I want you, until the cold black fucking end. I want her forever, just like you, and she won’t fucking have me.

“I thought you only had eyes for me,” he says instead.

The blonde sighs, coming to a stand finally—at last—coming to him, crawling onto his lap.

“I have eyes,” she murmurs, draping her arms around his shoulders, “for us.”

John exhales through his nose. It’s more complicated than that. It’s more complicated because Elliot so easily fits with Diana—even in the beginning. Elliot’s strange juxtaposition between Diana and John afforded her a comfortable advantage on both playing fields, as it does now; and maybe he’s jealous of that, too, that his wife, beautiful and charming and deadly in equal parts, is somehow reeling Diana in better than he could. With less carnage.

It should be him. He should be the one winning Diana over, drawing her to them, presenting her to Elliot as his conquest, his gift, for them to both enjoy. And no matter which way, she always bucks against him.

“Honey,” Elliot says, her voice soft. “I’m your wife. And she’ll be our wife. Don’t you want that?”

Dropping his head against her shoulder, he lets her card her fingers through his hair. “Yes,” he manages out. “I do.”

“Then let me get her for us, baby.” The blonde’s words are light. “What’s mine is yours, so if I get what I want, then we get what we want.” Her lips brush against his temple as his arms wind around her. “You’re always doing everything for me. Trust me to do this for you.” Another pause, and then: “For us.”

His chest feels tight. He thinks, no, I have to do it, you asked me, and he thinks, I don’t like sharing my wife, and he thinks, I want her too, I want Diana too.

And he thinks, yes, please, do this for me.

“I do,” he says, into the crook of her neck. “I trust you.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s late; the sky is speckled with stars and dark clouds, promising a storm on the way even amidst the humid summer heat, and John is exceptionally tired.

This isn’t the first time he’s stayed late at the compound, listening to Joseph’s furious whispers, and it certainly won’t be the last. But now he’s home, and his shoulders ache and burn with the tension of having driven himself home, and the last thing that he wants to do is think about anything.

However, as he enters the bedroom, he’s surprised to find not one viper in his bed, but two.

“You’re home,” Elliot says, her voice sweet; thick and syrupy and laden with what he can only assume are the remnants of red wine from the empty glass on the bedside table. “We missed you.”

He looks at Diana. She seems less pleased at his presence, but there is a tenuous curiosity; Elliot’s said something to her, done something, but there’s no reeking floral scent of Bliss, and there’s clarity in both of their eyes. No games here, he thinks, even as he tentatively crosses the distance between the doorway and the foot of the bed.

“Did you, now?” John asks, shrugging out of his jacket.

“One of us, anyway,” Diana says, the bite in her voice not at all lessened by the humidity of the room.

His wife smiles at him, and she tilts Diana’s face towards hers and kisses her��long and languid and open-mouthed, and he watches her pearly teeth dig into the deputy’s lower lip. A rebuke. She’s done it to him plenty of times; seeing her do it to Diana spikes something wretched and desirous in him.

Against the brunette’s mouth, Elliot says, “Don’t be cruel, honey. John’s been working hard.”

She beckons John with a crook of her fingers, and of course, he obeys, slides onto the bed and lets Elliot hook her fingers into the front of his shirt so that she can undo the first few buttons.

“Diana’s been working hard, too,” Elliot murmurs. “But we’re going to take care of her, aren’t we?” She looks at Diana, lips kiss-reddened and gaze hungry—and he can tell that the deputy’s in a mood, like maybe she can’t quite get the taste of blood out of her mouth, and he likes it. “Do you want that, baby?”

The brunette’s eyes flutter. She swallows thickly, hesitating. “I—” Diana begins, and she looks like she wants to say yes but that stubborn, obstinate nature of hers, purposefully obtuse for the sake of raking up his ire, is rearing its head.

“John.” His wife’s voice is saccharine. She moves lithely, sitting behind Diana, letting the brunette lean back against her a little. “Are you going to show the deputy how nice we can be?”

His chest is pleasantly tight, at the vision of them—his vipers, perfectly entangled, eyes fixed on him. Not so much an interloper, anymore.

John leans in, tilting Diana’s chin up; there’s a second of hesitation where he thinks maybe she’s going to balk, throw nails and teeth to get out from between them, but Elliot grazes her mouth along the brunette’s neck and purrs, “Let us take care of you,” and the brunette’s body relaxes, just a little, just that much where he can lean in and kiss her.

And kiss her, and kiss her, in a way that he’s never been able to before. Luxuriating in it. Tasting the ash and blood and red wine in her mouth, and liking it.

“So good,” he hears Elliot praise silkily, when their kiss breaks. “We have the loveliest little viper, baby.”

“Yes,” John agrees, and his voice is rough as it comes out of him, the electricity palpable. “We certainly do.”

Diana watches him for a moment, her fingers knotted in Elliot’s hair, before she leans forward and captures his mouth in a kiss more punishing than the last, with more teeth and heat; he can hear his wife sighing delightedly into the brunette’s skin, and for the first time, it feels most apt to say we have and not you have.

Ours, John thinks, mind fuzzing pleasantly in the static aftershock of Diana’s kiss.

Our little viper.

[emospritelet]

Since the KOL!babies are married when can they expect their own baby? Maybe Gold thinks Belle got the virus again when he hears she's at the hospital. - 41. “What did the doctor say?”

Prompt list here

Follow-up to Late Shift in the Kiss of Life verse

[AO3]

x

Seven a.m.

Stirling Gold stared into his coffee, his body feeling heavy and slow, weariness weighing down on him. The kitchen tiles were cold beneath his bare feet, and he shifted his toes a little, pressing them down hard before pulling them off.  Belle was cooking eggs, humming to herself as she did so, and he could smell the pleasant aroma of hot toast. He was almost too tired to feel hungry, but he knew he needed to eat. Several days of working twelve to fifteen hour shifts took their toll. He took a sip of his coffee, relishing the bitterness as it spread across his tongue. Seven hours until he had to be at the hospital again. Seven hours to rest, recuperate, and spend some quality time with his wife. His wife. He wasn’t sure he would ever get over the wonderful feeling that went through him every time he realised that they were married.

With the library closed until further notice and him working seven days a week to cope with the influx of patients, Belle was alone for much of the day. Or the night, depending on how his shift pattern fell. It wasn’t how he had expected the first year of their marriage to be, but there again he hadn’t expected a deadly disease to sweep across the nation. There was the faintest glimmer of hope that they might be over the worst of it; the number of new cases each day had stopped rising a few days ago, and Gold was keeping everything crossed that the falling numbers would continue. They had already had their hopes dashed more than once.

Belle stopped humming, the pan clattering on the stove as she dished up, and Gold took another sip of his coffee, setting down his cup and leaning back in his chair. She set a plate of buttered toast and scrambled eggs in front of him, bending to kiss his cheek before sliding into the seat adjacent to him with her own plate. She grinned at him, blue eyes shining, and he couldn’t help smiling back. She had been clear of the virus for a week, and was back to her old self.

“You look tired,” she said. “Didn’t you sleep?”

“I did,” he admitted. “But not enough.”

“Go back to bed,” she suggested, and her eyes gleamed. “Maybe I could join you.”

“I think we both know that neither of us would get any rest at all in that scenario,” he said sternly, and she giggled, scooping up eggs with her fork.

“Okay, suit yourself,” she said. “At least I get you all to myself for the morning.”

He grinned at her, and turned to his breakfast, eating a forkful of eggs and cutting off a piece of buttered toast to follow them. Belle poured herself some tea, and there was a moment of silence while they ate.

“I thought we might take a walk today,” she said. “It would do you good to get some fresh air. I don’t think you’ve done anything but work and sleep these past three weeks.”

“Well, there was that hour on Sunday when neither one of us was asleep...” he said, and she smirked, reaching for her cup.

“Ah yes, I remember,” she said. “I don’t think that counts as exercise, though. At least not in the fresh air.”

“We could do it in the back garden, if you insist.”

Belle giggled.

“I think the cold weather might have something to say about that.”

“Fair point,” he said. “Very well, a walk it is. Not too far, though. You’ve been complaining of tiredness a lot recently, and I don’t want you coming down with this thing again, okay?”

Belle rolled her eyes.

“I keep telling you, I’m fine!”

“And your sudden passion for mid-afternoon naps is a coincidence, is it?” he remarked. “Listen to your doctor and get some rest.”

“Maybe the doctor should take his own advice,” she said dryly.

Gold grinned, and turned back to his breakfast. His appetite seemed to be improving, and he cleared his plate, gulping the rest of his coffee down. His phone buzzed from its place on the table, the noise insistent, and he felt his heart sink as he reached for it. Belle watched him anxiously as he swiped at the screen.

“Jefferson,” he said, and Belle’s face fell.

“Hey,” said Jefferson, sounding as tired as he felt. “Look, I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate…”

“You need me to come in early,” guessed Gold.

“I’m really sorry,” said Jefferson sincerely. “Whale almost collapsed on the ward, and he’s burning up - I sent him home.”

“He’s positive?” asked Gold, worried, and Jefferson sighed.

“No, it looks like just a regular cold, but he’s exhausted. He’ll probably be out for a few days at least. Which means we’re a doctor down. I can cover his patients as well as my own, but we’ll need you to handle the ones that aren’t virus-related. At least that means you don’t have to suit up in PPE to the extent I do.”

“I’ll be there by eight.”

“You’re a life-saver,” said Jefferson. “Which I guess isn’t hyperbole, huh?”

“See you soon.”

Gold hung up, putting his phone down on the table and sighing heavily. Belle was watching him, looking troubled.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I - I really wanted to spend some time with you.”

“No, it’s fine,” she said immediately, putting a hand over his. “Really it is. I married a doctor. Nine to five was never gonna happen, and I knew that. You go and do what you do best, okay?”

He smiled broadly, and leaned in to kiss her.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

x

As always when he was working, Gold’s weariness had disappeared like smoke as soon as he stepped onto the ward in his scrubs. The hospital was never quiet, but in the midst of a pandemic it was hectic, and he had almost collided with a porter pushing a wheelchair. He did his round of the children’s ward first; there were thankfully very few children in there needing attention. He had half-expected Henry Swan-Mills to have come down with the virus; the boy was accident-prone and always in and out of hospital, but he had seen nothing of him since treating him for a broken collarbone three weeks ago. He suspected that the Mayor and Sheriff between them were pretty strict on enforcing the lockdown on their son.

Six hours into his shift he was beginning to flag, and went to the canteen for coffee and the lunch that Belle had put together for him while he was dressing. He smiled as he saw the little note she had placed on top of his sandwiches: I love you and I’m proud of you xxx. 

There had been a shift change, so when he got back out on the ward the personnel looked fresh-faced and ready to face the day. He was pleased to see them. Less pleasing was the fact that Zelena Mills was among them. 

He had thought that Zelena would have gotten over her weird obsession with him since he was now very happily married, but while she had certainly backed off a little, she still made inappropriate comments on a regular basis. He was able to ignore her for the most part, but with staffing levels dwindling by the day, it was likely that he was going to have to work with her more often. The virus had a lot to bloody answer for, in his opinion. 

She veered towards him as soon as he entered the room, and he took two steps back to maintain six feet between them. Zelena pouted, but there was a predatory gleam in her eyes which he had learned not to trust.

“Dr Gold,” she said, with a simper that made his teeth clench. “On your own today?”

“Dr Whale is ill,” he said dismissively, reaching for the nearest patient’s chart. “Dr Milliner is covering his patients as well as his own, and I’m covering everyone who isn’t infected with the virus. I’d appreciate any help you can give in that regard. Maintaining the necessary social distancing at all times, of course.”

Zelena’s pout grew sulky.

“It’s hard to flirt when we can’t go within six feet of each other,” she said, and Gold wanted to roll his eyes.

“A good thing we’re here to work, then,” he remarked, making a note on the patient’s chart. “Are you short of tasks to occupy yourself with? I’ll have a word with Nurse South, if so.”

Zelena scoffed.

“Hardly,” she said. “Dorothy left us in the lurch. Didn’t show up to her shift. Typical.”

Gold looked up.

“Dorothy didn’t show?” he said. “That’s not like her. Did anyone call her?”

“I did.” Glinda South had walked into the room, and was eyeing Zelena sternly. “Nurse Mills, you’re here to do your job, not distract Dr Gold. Go and change the beds in Arendelle Ward; we’re changing it from prenatal care to an overflow ward to deal with virus patients.”

Zelena huffed, stomping off, and Gold gave Glinda a grateful look.

“Is Dorothy okay?” he asked, and she sighed.

“Well, she has the virus,” she said gloomily. “She doesn’t feel too bad, so at least that’s something, but it means she’s self-isolating. We’re short on staff as it is.”

“I should call her,” he said. “I know how awful this thing can be. How are we for shift cover?”

“It’s tight,” she admitted. “We should just about be okay, though.”

“Good.”

Gold moved on to the next patient, checking the chart and nodding to himself. Some improvement. Good. 

He continued on his rounds, working his way through the wards, and managed almost an hour before Zelena caught up with him again. 

“Ah, Dr Gold,” she said, walking towards him with her hips swaying. “I have to say I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Yes, seeing the doctor in the hospital must indeed have been a shock to the senses,” he remarked, picking up a patient’s chart and scanning it. “Next you’ll be telling me you saw patients being treated.”

“Well, I don’t know about being treated,” she said airily. “But I did see Belle French.”

Calling Belle by her old name was a habit of hers, and usually it was only a minor annoyance, but Gold wasn’t in the mood. He opened his mouth to snap at her that Belle’s name was now Gold and that she was his wife, when something she had said made prickles of anxiety run over his skin.

“You saw Belle?” he said. “Here?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes glinting wickedly. “She went rushing past me, said she needed to see a doctor.”

Gold licked his lips.

“She was probably looking for me.”

“Didn’t look that way to me,” she said, looking at her fingernails. “Oh, is she sick? How tragic that would be...”

Gold tossed the chart aside and stormed out as fast as he could. She was making up beds in Arendelle Ward. That’s the ward we’re using as overflow for the virus patients. Oh God, please don’t let her be sick again! I should have fucking noticed when she said she was feeling tired all the time, I should have known!

He burst through the double doors, almost sending a nurse flying and throwing an apology over his shoulder. His leg was hurting, the pain of being on it for hours and walking too fast, but he didn’t care. He turned the corner at speed and almost collided with Belle, her eyes widening as she put out an arm to stop him.

“Stirling!” she said. “Slow down! Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” he gasped. “What - what are you doing here? Are you sick?”

“I’m fine,” she said assuredly. “Everything’s fine.”

“But - Zelena said you’d been rushed in, that you were seeing a doctor…” 

He flailed, trying to gather his thoughts into something coherent. Belle put a hand on his arm, smiling up at him, and at once her touch seemed to calm him, to ground him.

“Stirling,” she said gently. “Yes, I did need to see a doctor, but I’m fine, really. And you should learn not to take any notice of Zelena. She always pushes your buttons when you’re stressed.”

“Right.” He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a little better. “Right. So you’re not sick?”

“I’m not sick,” she confirmed, and Gold felt anxiety drain out of him, leaving only relief and weariness in its wake.

“Good,” he said absently. “That’s good. What did the doctor say?”

Belle’s smile grew, and he wondered why he had only just noticed how radiant she looked. As though she was filled with light, with joy. With life.

“I’m pregnant,” she said. “We’re going to have a baby.”

Gold felt as though he’d been punched in the chest. He staggered back, hand gripping the handle of his cane to steady himself. She was beaming at him, and he could feel tears prick his eyes as his heart swelled with love for her. Belle stepped forward, hands sliding around his waist, and he reached up to cup her cheek, feeling his heart thumping hard in his chest.

“A baby?” he whispered. “We’re having a baby?”

“We are,” she said. “You’re going to be a father. How does that sound?”

Gold bent his head to kiss her, eager for the taste of her lips and the softness of her mouth. She melted into him with a tiny moan, and he pulled back gently, resting his forehead against hers as he breathed her in.

“It sounds wonderful,” he whispered. “It sounds perfect.”

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

If you're accepting prompts from your lists, could you maybe do something from your the fluff/angst one with 14(you look amazing tonight), 26 (here let me help you), 94(I won’t lose you too). Or any combination of them if you can't all fit them together. Jask x reader obvi.

Fandom: The WitcherPairing: Jaskier x ReaderWord Count: 1,592Rating: Ga/n: Thanks for the prompts! I was able to fit them all in and I hope you enjoy!

Traveling with Geralt had awakened something in Jaskier. He could no longer pretend that horrors in the world just existed as fodder for his songs. He knew better now that there was genuine evil, and innocents who suffered because of it. That’s why he decided, against his better judgment, that he would continue to try and help people, with or without the witcher. He’d met you along the way and you’d decided to work together, your skill with weapons and his skill with charming people a deadly combination. Without Jaskier you would never have found a way into Lord Radcliffe’s party. The notorious arms dealer was entertaining many of the nobles in the country, partly for sheer hedonism and partly to establish more connections for his grim enterprise. The plan was simple, you would sneak out and find the list of contacts Radcliffe was rumored to keep as blackmail if anyone caught up in his web suddenly grew a conscience and you would both provide the evidence to local authorities. But first you had to survive an evening at a fancy party and of all of your assignments thus far, this was easily the most terrifying.

“You look amazing tonight,” Jaskier said. He could see the way you twisted the stem of the wine glass you held nervously, dangerously close to pouring its contents onto your lovely dress. You had chosen to dress in complementary outfits to make it easier to find each other in the crowd if you got separated. Jaskier wore a suit of beautiful gold with blue detailing sewn into the doublet and lining the inside of his jacket. You wore a dress that was its inverse, the deep blue making up most of your gown with gold detailing around the bodice and hem. Jaskier had helped you with your hair, surprising you with his talent for braids as he wound half of your hair up into a braided crown and insisting on letting the rest fall in lose waves over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you replied, though your eyes still scanning the sea of nobles mingling and dancing with uncertainty.

“This is the part where you tell me that I look amazing as well,” Jaskier said. You looked at him and saw he was giving you a coy smile.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier, you look wonderful but then again you always do,” you said.

“True but a man still likes to hear it. Now, what’s got you so distracted? And don’t waste time pretending everything’s ok because I have to go on in a few moments and we both know that’s bullocks,” he said insistently.

“I just don’t like this,” you admitted, “It feels too easy.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned is that people make stupid mistakes when they think they’re invincible and no one feels more invincible than the wealthy and titled,” Jaskier said reassuringly. Then, because he could see you weren’t convinced he added, “We can get out of here and try again another time if you’re really uncertain.”

Hearing that leaving was an option helped you feel a bit better about things and reaffirmed your determination to end the night in success.

“No, we do this tonight,” you said resolutely, “Now go on, your adoring public awaits.”

Jaskier fixed you with a wide grin and you watched him shift into bard mode, his actions and words growing a little grander as he deftly pulled focus onto himself and away from you as you slid into the shadows. You could hear the first refrains of The Fishmonger’s Daughter as you disappeared down the hall.

 When you weren’t back half an hour later, Jaskier grew worried. When you weren’t back a full hour later, Jaskier was panicked. He finished his set and took his time to bow and accept the praise but he declined an encore, offering the stage to another bard who had come to perform. As soon as he could he drifted through the crowd, picking up a goblet of wine to look casual, and then followed down the same path you’d gone earlier in the evening. He was keenly aware that he didn’t have any weapons on him though you’d tried repeatedly to get him to carry a dagger. It felt foolish now but he knew he would do whatever necessary to protect you even if he had to kill with his bare hands. He was passing a pair of doors when he heard the sound of feet scraping and struggling. Without a second thought he burst through the door, lute raised above his head, face contorted into a vicious snarl.

“Jaskier for fuck’s sake be quiet,” you hissed. You had an arm wrapped around a man’s windpipe and he struggled against you, trying to find purchase to push you off of him and failing.

“Here, let me help you,” Jaskier said, as though you were carrying a heavy tray instead of incapacitating a man. He seized the front of the man’s shirt to hold him steady and punched him, the sickening thud of fist hitting flesh followed by Jaskier’s sharp inhale of breath as he shook his hand, whimpering in pain. It had worked, though, and the man fell limp in your arms. You both shoved him off of you and got busy tying him up.

“What the hell happened?” Jaskier asked as he looped a length of rope around the stranger’s wrists.

“Well it took some searching but I finally found the list but right as I did this man came in. I managed to charm him to get him close enough to grapple him to the ground. Thank the gods you showed up, it takes ages to knock someone out by cutting off their air, especially cuz he kept wriggling just enough to get some oxygen past,” you explained matter of factly and Jaskier marveled at the fact that this was his life now. At one time, not so very long ago, his knowledge and involvement in the party would have ended in the main hall where he would perform and find someone to entertain privately for the evening. Now he was grappling villains with you, simply for the fact that what you were doing could aid others. And the pleasure of your company which had grown more and more compelling every day.

Once the man was thoroughly tied up the two of you snuck back out of the door, just as Lord Radcliffe and an associate walked into view. Without another word you pulled Jaskier into a kiss, pulling him onto you so your faces were hidden from view. You were shocked by how eagerly and expertly Jaskier played into the façade and tried to pretend you weren’t thrilled at being almost caught so you had an excuse to do what you’d been wanting to do for weeks. Lord Radcliffe and the man, seeing the couple so clearly indisposed, turned around, joking about being young and in love. Jaskier’s hands cup your face and you keep your hands wrapped around his neck a few minutes longer than necessary, both aware that the men were out of sight but both trying to make the most of this moment. When you finally pull away you look into each other’s eyes for a moment and then you refocus on why you’re there and pull apart.

“Alright, so, got the list?” Jaskier asked. You started to say yes and then your eyes widen and you pat yourself down, realizing that in your rush you’d somehow stupidly forgotten it.

“I’ll get it,” you said, turning to go back into the room. Jaskier captured your wrist and pulled you away from the door.

“No, I’ll get it,” he said.

“You don’t know where it is,” you argued.

“So you’ll tell me.”

“It’s easier if I go.”

“We don’t know if he’s still asleep.

“Jaskier don’t-”

“I won’t lose you too!”

The words come unbidden but it’s too late to take them back. Before you can say anything else he barrels past you, running into the room and slamming the door in your face. You screw up your fists in anger but stand guard, listening for sounds of struggle. A few very tense moments later Jaskier comes out, tucking the list into his sleeve as he seizes your arm.

“We need to go,” he mutters intently, picking up speed until you’re both walking swiftly back to the great hall. He waves and smiles casually at people who catch his eyes but his grip on your hand is almost painful and he doesn’t slow his pace, counting on people being unsurprised to see Jaskier leaving a party quickly with a beautiful woman. Once outside you both continue your pace and when you finally escape eyesight of the guards you run.

“What are we running from?” you ask.

“He was waking up, they’ll be looking for us in moments,” Jaskier answers, dodging a branch.

“If we get out of this alive you’re explaining that comment you made about losing me,” you say, jumping over a tree stump as you break through the woods.

“Alright but we’re also revisiting that impromptu makeout session you started,” he replies.

“I didn’t notice you complaining while you were sticking your tongue down my throat,” you argue.

“Not complaining, just clarifying!” he exclaims. You want to keep arguing but you can hear the sound of guards being alerted behind you in the distance and you focus on running, trusting that there will be plenty of time to answer questions once you’ve gotten safely away.

[thequeenb]

Best friends

Pairings: KamilahxMC

My friend here has a good taste" That's the phrase that got stuck in Amy's mind for a week now. Maybe everything was an illusion and she thought Kamilah saw something in her. But on the other hand you dont call your friend at midnight to have sex, or your friend doesn't eat you up until you scream their name.

All the possibilities made Amy less productive, she was sitting on her desk playing with a pen lost in her own world of friendzone.

"Amy" Kamilah said greeting Amy who was so busy thinking that didn't notice who talked to her.

"Yea Hi" this sudden behaviour made Kamilah cross her arms and arch her brow looking at her with those intense brown eyes.

"Oh my god i mean Hey Kamilah i am sorry i am just thinking" Amy felt her cheeks flush red Bravo you embarrass yourself too.

"You don't seem like yourself lately" Kamilah admitted a hint of worry in her eyes

"I am fine, now if you will i have work"

After that sentence Amy felt her heart break. She was to stubborn to just ask Kamilah what does she mean , maybe she would embarrass herself or Kamilah will think she was crazy.

"I actually wanted to" she looked around to see if anyone was around "invite you to my apartment tonight" the smirk on her face was easy to read and imagine what she invites her for but everything felt suffocating at the moment so she denied, something unexpected for both.

---

"I just dont understand Lil" Amy said burying herself into her friends shoulder.

"Girl you overthink about it just like anything else in life"

"For sure but i just dont get it, she said i am everything she didn't knew she needed and now i am her "good friend"? "

That grimace Amy made while she said that sentence was always hilarious, she was so bothered by it.

"I think is impossible to read Miss grandma, we both know she cant accept her feelings, which leaves us to you, you need to have the talk" Lily put a hand on Amy's shoulder looking at her with sympathy.

Amy signed, she knew Lily was right and she had to move fast before she drives crazy, but that moment Amy's mind drifted off to the possibilities..

" I will always be here for you Kamilah" Amy said smiling at her but Kamilah didn't look at her with the same passion

"Thats what friends are for" she said casually, something that made Amy's heart shatter into pieces.

----

"I just think we aren't exactly friends you know"

"Of course, we are really good friends"

•••

Amy groaned laying down on the couch "Alright i will go talk to her tonight"

Lily hugged her tight "May the Lord be with you"

"Stop before i regret it" Amy laughed, not knowing what's ahead of her.

---

Amy walked into the building feeling her heart will jump out of her chest. She knew well Kamilah would be working, or maybe have another good friend over. The thought only made her heels click faster on the marble floor making a deadly sound.

The elevator felt so slow yet it was going to fast for Amy to try and form an excuse for her visit.

Kamilah rose from her sit at the sound of the elevator doors open not expecting anyone. To her surprise Amy walked inside, each step was more angry than the last.

"Hello Kamilah" she said before sitting on the couch looking at her intensly.

"Amy, what an unexpected surprise, you told me you weren't available"

Amy shrugged "I suddenly felt available"

Kamilah didn't respond, instead she offered her a glass of wine sitting next to her, one of her arms steading her head as she fixed her gaze on Amy's eyes.

"You seem stressed, is everything alright?"

Amy smiled as good as she could pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Why yes my friend" and when that phrase slipped out of her mouth Kamilah knew well whats wrong.

"Amy i-" but she didn't finish that sentence as Amy's lips hungrily crushed hers.

She was now sitting on Kamilah's lap steading her with her hips as her tongue was exploring her mouth.

"Friends dont do this" she said as she sucked on Kamilah's neck so hard that if she was human a bruise could be seen.

"Or this" she said as she unbottoned her shirt throwing it to the floor. Her tongue was now traveling down her chest memorising every curve on Kamilah's body.

Kamilah arched her back when Amy's nails left delicate scratches from her neck down her abdomen "Amy.." she breathed out like it was impossible to breathe.

Amy was satisfied by the sight, friends cant have that effect on someone, friends dont do this.

---

After a long session of both of them screaming eachother's names Amy finally curled up into Kamilah's arms smiling.

"When i called you my friend..i was doing it to avoid my feelings for you" Kamilah started as Amy felt like something heavy finally left her body.

"But everytime i see you i remind myself that you have something so magnetic that i cant stay away from, i didn't realize it bothered you" Amy now left a breath she didn't knew she was holding.

"I just thought i only saw you, you know" Amy said looking away

Kamilah turned her head to look at Amy's eyes which now had tears forming in them

"I am naked and i hold you in my arms does that say enough for you?" Kamilah said smiling

"Mm maybe you have to show me again" Amy teased kissing her passionately going for round two.

The night melted around them, a darkness laying ahead that will leave both regretting not admitting their feelings.

Tag list: @galaxyside-0 @la-guera-69 @scarlet-letter-a0114 @wildsayeed @sayeedbound @thepotatobleh @ilovetaylor13m @lightning-fury

[hamiltalian-creates]

Dreaming of Sleep, Pt 3

Summary: Remus can’t stop himself from telling someone, anyone, about his fun dreams anymore. He wants Deceit back, but gets something better. 

Ships: Loceit, Intrulogical

Warnings: None

Words: 1,696

Remus promised that he wouldn’t bother old Deceit at night, sure, but on that particular night, he’d had quite the dream! In fact, it was one of the rare dreams that he knew he’d have to keep far away from Thomas, almost enough to scare Remus himself! Of course he wanted Deceit to hear all about it!

“Dee!” Remus sang out as he wandered the halls of the Dark Side, knocking on Deceit’s door. He waited there for a few minutes, rocking back and forth on his feet, before knocking again. 

“Deceit! I have something wonderfully disgusting to share with you! Open the door before I smash it down!” he threatened, though it came out as more of a whine. 

Before long, Remus let out a frustrated huff as he realized that, once again, Deceit wasn't in his room. Most nights, he'd just let it go and talk to his friend in the morning, but that night's dream had been so particularly horrifying and he just wanted to let him know all about it! So, Remus headed out to the light side. After all, if Deceit had been anywhere in the Dark Side, he definitely would’ve come out before, even if just to yell at him about the time. 

He let himself in to each of their rooms, keeping note of the fact that they, of course, all trusted each other enough to not have to lock their doors at night, until he found Deceit in Logan’s room, all cuddled up against the nerd like a deadly teddy bear. 

Remus hummed joyously as he walked over, not stopping as he saw Logan wake up. 

“What are you doing?” Logan asked, surprisingly clearly for that time of night. 

“Well, I had this horrible dream and I wanted to tell Deceit all about it!” He climbed onto Logan’s bed and reached out to wake his friend, only stopped by the logical side grabbing his wrist. 

“Deceit’s asleep, as you can see, and I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate if you were to wake him up,” Logan pointed out. “I’ve already woken up, why don’t you just tell me about it?” 

Remus laughed at that. “Like you can handle what I have to say.” 

“Well, it’s not like you’ve cared before,” Logan said as he reached for his glasses with his free hand, sensing that this was not going to be a very quick conversation. “Besides, seeing how deeply asleep Deceit is, I doubt he’d be able to give you his undivided attention if you woke him up. I, on the other hand, could and will do that for you right now.”

Remus laughed at that. 

“Did I say something that you found entertaining?”

“Oh, please!” Remus practically screeched through his laughter, the late hour being the last thing on his mind. “‘Undivided attention’? Nobody ever gives me that, especially when it comes to these kinds of dreams. If you’re going to exaggerate to try and convince me, you should at least say something believable.” 

"Oh...” Logan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion and surprise, though someone looking a little closer might’ve seen an empathetic spark. “Well... I guess I'll be the first. I have no reason to lie and no reason not to pay attention." He shrugged and patted the space in the bed beside him, partially hoping to get Remus away from Deceit and partially because, of course, he wanted to hear him better. 

Remus’s eyes immediately lit up and he jumped over to Logan's side of the bed, almost like an excited dog as he sat on Logan’s legs with a wide grin. Simply put, Remus knew that Logan had no reason to lie. Even if he was, it would’ve at least been nice to pretend he was listening. "It started with this cute little kitten." 

It was at least a half hour before Remus finished his story and, despite the late hour, the creative side was still high on the moment, having never found someone who just... willingly listened to what he had to say. Nor had he found someone who didn't interrupt him out of fear or, more likely, disgust, and here was someone who did both! Logan even added on his own comments on how completely plausible or almost realistic the events of the dream were or how much they weren't. 

Remus felt electrified by the experience and didn't feel a single effect of the late hour until he was reaching the horrifying end of his story, yawning through it and letting his head rest in Logan’s lap, allowing the logical side to run his fingers through his hair. 

“But those are one of the dreams I don’t show Thomas for a reason... After all, he’d never go near a stray cat again and you know how much he loves cats,” Remus muttered as he finished his story, crawling under the blankets and sprawling out beneath them, his head on Logan’s chest. 

“True, but perhaps a dream like that would get him to actually stop purposefully aggravating his allergies, since Patton is typically the one he actually listens to on the matter.”

Remus chuckled and looked up at Logan. “Was that a joke? Are you making jokes now, you little nerd-smith?”

Logan thought for a second before nodding. “Yes.. Yes, I suppose I am.” 

“Well, it was an adorable little first try,” Remus hummed as he leaned up and kissed Logan’s nose. 

Logan felt his face heat up, but did his best to hide the reaction, not wanting to give Remus any sort of metaphorical ammo to tease him with. “We should get to sleep,” he commented instead. “Unless there was something else you needed before you were able to-” Logan cut himself off as he jumped a bit, startled by Remus’s sudden collapse against him. Before he could check to see if the other was okay, though, Remus began softly snoring. Logan allowed himself to give the smallest smile before leaning back against the headboard, seeing as Remus didn’t exactly leave him room to lay back down, and falling asleep. 

Deceit was the first one to wake up in the morning, and only because of the added weight pressing against his face. His eyes snapped open and he attempted to sit up, stopped by the same weight laying over his arm. Remus’s weight, he quickly realized. Adding his presence to the way Logan was sleeping upright, it was no mystery what had happened, Deceit realized, feeling his stomach sink. 

Remus could never just sleep after certain creative outbursts and Deceit was always the one who he went to to talk about them. Just the thought of Remus harassing Logan because of course the logical side was too polite - or, rather, too smart - to turn him away made Deceit shudder. It didn’t take a genius to realize that Remus only came to find Deceit. What if Logan decided this was too much trouble? What if he made Deceit go back to his room every night? What if he told the rest of the sides about his sleeping troubles? What if-

“Deceit?” 

Deceit was snapped out of his trance by that familiarly calm and almost worried voice. 

“You seemed to be in your own metaphorical world for a second there. And you look worried. What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Surely that was some sort of test. “I just... I’m really sorry about Remus coming, I didn’t think he’d actually come looking for me like this, you shouldn’t have had to deal with him and-”

“Deceit?”

“I swear I put a padlock on his door, but sometimes, nothing can stop him from-”

“Deceit,” Logan repeated, his voice a bit more emphatic as he attempted to calm down the panicked side. Luckily, it seemed to work, Deceit looking up at him with a hint of fear in his eyes. Logan sighed and gently patted the top of Deceit’s head, hoping to calm him further. “I’m not upset about Remus coming here.”

Deceit opened his mouth to question him before stopping. He could usually hear a lie like a dissonant chord, but, in that sentence... He couldn’t sense anything. “You... You mean that?..”

“Of course I do. Remus needed to be heard and you needed to sleep. I merely gave a simple solution to the issue,” Logan explained, once again absentmindedly running his fingers through Remus’s hair. It was a bit rough, but Logan rather enjoyed feeling that texture. “Besides, it was somewhat... Interesting. Hearing what goes through his head. Of course, I know he’d never make Thomas act out on these thoughts, so I don’t see the harm in allowing him to just talk about them with me.” 

Of course, Deceit had thought about that before, he never meant to particularly hurt his friend, but guts and gore just wasn’t his cup of tea. “Well, I’m... I’m glad he didn’t upset you..”

“Not in the slightest. Of course, I do wish it had been a more convenient time, but it’s not like he can particularly control these creative outbursts.”

Deceit let out a sigh of disbelief. He’d never heard anybody saying that they didn’t mind hearing Remus’s... “Ideas,” much less that they didn’t mind being woken up in the middle of the night and doing so, just to keep another side from having to go through the same thing. He really was incredibly lucky to have gotten closer to Logan... 

Pretending to sleep and staying as still as he could, Remus listened in. It was almost impossible to hide his grin as he heard Logan talking about him. Logan thought his dreams were interesting... Logan didn’t think Remus was annoying... Of course, Remus did make an effort to be annoying at times - he wouldn’t exactly be very intrusive if he didn’t - but he could only take so much ridicule and looks of disgust and ignoring, god, he hated the ignoring. But things were different here. Logan listened to him... Remus smiled to himself and held Logan a bit tighter. After all, Remus had a bit more in common with Roman than just being creativity. Remus’s feelings grew fast and he wasn’t nearly as nervous as Deceit about showing it. 

Tag List: @readytobakebread @theoddkidnextdoor @an-absolute-failure

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Dragon Dancer Chapter 22: Target Practice

Cassell College worked hard to return to normalcy after the outbreak of violence that occurred right there on campus. The students were noticeably shaken up. Despite having studied here at Cassell, many had never seen a live dragon. After experiencing an overwhelming show of deadly force at the hands of a dragon that was no larger than a pick up truck, fear spread among the student body when they contemplated an actual war against these creatures.

They paid a lot more attention to classes and drills now. The training center had never been so crowded. Some, mourning friends who had died or were maimed in the attack, were demanding more access to the facilities than their rank deserved. But EVA was an AI and, while kind, she didn’t decide to override her programming to fit with the new demand. There was a long waiting list.

Master List

Because I was S-rank and still holding Star of Cassell privileges, I could stay at the shooting range well after dark. Susie had given me the basics and now I was just working on accuracy. With ear muffs on and earbuds under those, I lifted the pistol and fired three quick rounds at the paper target. 

My scores were passable, but I needed to get better than that. Turned out that despite my dragon gift, most combat skills were still based on standard issue firearms and for some, like Johann, relics like swords and martial arts. 

The dragon blood allowed us to be faster, stronger, and more agile than the average human being. Lancelot helped me see that with training in parkour and acrobatics. Because I’d never been asked to rapidly scale a building I’d never realized I could do something like that. I’d never been tested on how high I could jump or run. In addition to my dragon gift, being able to move and leap like a gazelle was overkill to me. 

I was a scorpion that had just been given a pair of wings.

I pulled the earmuff off my ears.

“Not bad for a beginner.”

I shuddered with fear and whirled on the speaker. “Caesar! Don’t sneak up on me!”

“You had your ear muffs on, I didn’t have a choice!” He grinned, arms crossed “Mind if I give you a few pointers?”

“Sure… what are you even doing out here so late?”

He came up beside me. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Plain old insomnia. I figured I’d make use of my time.”

“You’ve been here all evening.” He said, with a little laugh.

“You’re going to give me pointers right?” I asked, uninterested in talking about my persistent issue with night terrors. If I told him why I couldn’t sleep, he’d start trying to solve my problem. I didn't want to tell him anything that might give him a clue about what my father was or a clue of what had happened to me.

Caesar obliged, helping me with straightening my shoulders, raising my arms and how to hold the weapon steadier. He was a good teacher. He knew exactly what to say to help me understand what I needed to do.

The next three shots had a higher score. Caesar nodded with satisfaction. “Awesome. Think you can remember all that?"

“Eh…” I laughed. “Might need you to tell me a few more times.”

His blue eyes looked down at me. “You know, I could more easily train you in shooting as part of the Student Union.”

“Oh, here we go.” I playfully rolled my eyes.

He raised his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“Nono told me that the whole reason you offered the Star of Cassell was to force me to join your club!”

He huffed, offended. “What do you mean force? I don’t force anyone to do anything!”

“Well, that’s what she said! I believed her.” I put the gun down and started to dismantle it.

He glanced away. “She’s being dramatic. It only would have been three months!”

I looked up at him in shock. “So you were seriously going to do that!”

“As a trial basis. If after three months you didn’t like it you would be free to go! How is that forcing?” He chuckled. “Besides, you lost that high ground when you immediately turned around and made Johann Chu your boyfriend, didn’t you?”

I glanced up at him, frowning. “I had my reasons. Besides, it's not like we’ve been on any dates or I’m forcing him to kiss me or anything.”

“Lame excuses. You could have said bodyguard. Why boyfriend?”

“Because Fingel told me that there were two things people wanted to know about me most. One, which club I was joining and two, how to date me.” I sighed. “I just… I just didn’t want to deal with that.”

“Heh… well, I would ask if you considered Johann’s feelings and then I just remembered he doesn’t have any…” Caesar shrugged.

My frown deepened and I paused in my work.

“It’s almost poetic justice in a way. He makes the girls here gamble with their hearts. Never rejecting them, out of politeness. But what he’s really doing is keeping them coming back to the table, time and again.”

“Oh really?” I said, continuing to work.

“Oh yes,” He exuded great confidence in this. “They’re hoping that maybe this time they’ll hit the jackpot and he’ll understand their feelings. Despite the low odds that he ever will.”

He began to chuckle. “And now look, he’s stuck in a loveless relationship… While he may deserve that… I think you deserve a lot better.”

“Thanks… I think.” I open the hard case for the gun parts and start slotting them in.

“Well, enough about him.” He waved dismissively, “Have you considered being part of the Student Union Dancing Society?”

“Oh… yeah!” I perked up a bit, suddenly recalling. “Johann told me about it earlier. When we first met.”

Caesar cocked his head in surprise. “He did? Why didn’t you come to me about it afterwards?”

I looked up at him, stunned with wide eyes. “Uh… because I found out I was dying?” My words came out louder than I expected and I winced. 

Taken aback, Caesar averted his eyes. “That’s right. Sorry.”

“No…” I sighed, swallowing against the sudden knot in my throat. “I forgot that it's … been six months for you guys. Longer at this point. But only a few weeks for me.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I just think you’d fit right in.” When I didn’t respond, he tried again. “I have something to confess.”

I looked up at him, trying to get a handle on my sudden painful memories. “What?”

“I personally lead the Dancing Society. Including their battle training.” He grinned down at me, not sorry at all.

I began to laugh, incredulous. “Oh wow! Really? Is that so?”

“The chance to dance with you… an S-ranked student. Would be an absolute honor.” He leaned closer to me, winking.

I leaned away, closing the case. “I’m suuuuure… but I’ve never seen you dance so… I don’t know how honorable it would be.” I twined my finger in my hair and then pointed at him. “Besides, don’t you have Nono to dance with?”

“Why not both?”

“Why not both? She’s your fiance! Shouldn’t you want to dance with her more than anyone else?” I asked.

He shrugged, frowning a bit.  “She’s not as into it as me.” He turned to me again, smiling. “You on the other hand… have trained for years.”

Gratified, I shrugged my shoulders and grinned. “Could probably teach you a thing or two. But … I don’t have to join your club to dance with you.”

“Again with the refusal.” He seemed genuinely perplexed. “I don’t understand.”

My eyes shifted. “I like Johann. And… no matter how you feel about what we’re doing… the way you talked about him just now was not good. I’m not interested in being his rival.”

Caesar shrugged. “Then don’t… Just join and you don’t have to participate in the rivalry.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way…”

“Then that’s his problem.” He said flatly, glaring.

I take a breath and let it out. I glanced away. “I don’t want to argue. Okay?”

“We’re not arguing.”

“Well, for last minute, you’ve done nothing but dismiss everything I’ve said!” I glanced up at him again, daring him to dismiss this too.

He met my eyes, read my intentions and replied. “That doesn’t make this an argument.”

He couldn't hide his satisfied smile when I started laughing again. "You're funny!"

I took the gun case off the platform and walked away from the shooting range to the storage area. He followed me. "And you're fascinating!"

"Why?" I shot back at him. 

"S-ranks are so rare as it is. But women are rare even in A-ranks!"

"Seriously, Caesar?" My voice was like a sad trombone but he didn’t even flinch.

"It's just a fact!"

I walked in silent disagreement. Johann did not seem to have the same viewpoint.

He forged ahead. "Lately I’ve learned quite a lot about you through observation and various other means."

My jaw dropped slightly and I paused in my step before continuing. “Uh huh?”

“All signs suggest that you might even exceed what we know about S-ranks. You did beat Lu on the first challenge for the Star of Cassell, remember?”

He watched me put the case away. My eyes were distant. I'd stopped answering. I used my card to check the equipment back in. “You owe it to yourself to put your talent to good use. And there’s no better way to do it than joining me…” He paused and reconsidered a moment “... us.”

He’d stopped his pitch and so I asked him. "Is that all?" A voice in my head was telling me he was trying to be complimentary. That he was just saying to me what he said to other people. But it was being drowned out by my pain.

"What do you mean is that all?" He said, quietly. "Carli…" He blocked my attempt to step around him. "Before Lu, the last S-ranked student to walk through Cassell was forty years ago… Forty years! Do you not understand how valuable that makes you?"

"Oh…" I looked away for a moment, then I turned to face him. I was smiling, even laughing, but the pain and rage made my voice tremble. "I know exactly how valuable that makes me!” My smile turned down to a mask of anger. “Down to the penny!"

Caesar's eyes went wide, stunned. His eyes narrow slightly. “What…?”

"Probably more than you know!" He reached out to me and I slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me! People like you are the reason I need Johann!"

A woman’s voice from the ceiling broke things up. "Since your equipment is turned in, I can't hold the shooting gallery open for you. Please exit and I will shut down the lights and set the security alarm."

EVA materialized behind me and I strode through her hologram in my haste to escape.

"Carli, wait!”

I left the building. I was going to cry. I had to stop it.

“What do you mean ‘to the penny!’” He’s already caught up to me, trying to meet my eyes, looking for an answer.

And just like that, I’d said too much. I’d done exactly what I was trying not to do. “Don’t talk to me! Don’t talk to me again! Not until the three months are over!”

“What… what happened to you…” He whispered. “Does Johann know about this?”

I broke out into a run, not looking back. I didn’t get any sleep. The next morning I spotted a text on my phone from Caesar. “Are you alright?”

I blocked his number.

Being calm was impossible. I was so exhausted, breathing was painful. I used makeup to cover my darkened eyes.  

Johann met me at my usual time, but I was late. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. Just a study session today anyway.”

That was a change in schedule. Caesar had probably talked to him.

After we neared the cafe where we tended to study, he said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Mmhm.”

“Do you like theme parks?”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Are we going to get more flood my mornings?

FMM: Of Small Kangaroos

This story takes place in an AU where Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

FMM Master List

Previously: Found

**Backtracking timewise just a bit on this one! The woes of getting acclimated to your own AU timeline again ;)** 

—-

November, 1952

“Can’t you stay home this morning?” she wheedled, wiping maple syrup from Ian’s chin. Christ, how sweet she looked in her Turtle’s-Neck sweater, the cabled one the same color as her skin. Not even six o’clock—bairns make early risers of all, aye?—and still her eyes were bright and sharp. “It’s Sunday and cold as b…all-get-out.”

“I wish I could.” He’d like nothing better than to spend a few stolen hours abed with her while the children napped away the afternoon. “But I canna,” he said,  the last piece of toast in his mouth as he began clearing up the dishes. “Promised Hank I would go in and cover for h—”

“DA, Mummy SAID, it’s—”

“Don’t *interrupt*, Bree,” they chanted with one well-worn voice. 

Brianna sighed with even greater exasperation and piled every remaining piece of bacon onto her plate with a grumble that sounded a great deal like.  “…interruptin’ me….” 

“Brianna Ellen.” Claire’s head tilted, hawk’s eye fixed with deadly precision. “Attitude.” 

“S’too cold out there, Daddy,” the lass piped at once with saccharine primness that dared anyone to question its sincerity.  

“Aye, ‘tis cold,” he agreed, sharing a secret, rueful glance with Claire, “and that means the horses will be, too.” He laid a freshly-scrubbed plate onto the rack and took up the next. “Shall ye come along wi’ me to the barn, then, cub?”  

“Me?” 

“ME!” Ian parroted, slithering down from his seat. 

“Aye, you, and yer Mam, and Ian? Make a wee outing of it?”

“No-thanks,” came the verdict of the bacon-cruncher. “Dinna wanna put my coat on.”

“Ye lazy wee baggage!” He cast over his shoulder for her and spied Claire first, hiding behind her mug. “No!…Et tu, mo nighean donn?” 

“It’s awfully warm and cozy indoors….” Her guilty grin gave way to a yawn, then a stretch. “And I really do need to stay,” she said, bringing her stocking-feet up onto the seat and hugging her knees, “got to make a dent in these applications today.” 

This last rose in crescendo, still barely heard over the din of: 

            “CAN I–” 

             “Me-me-meee!!!” 

               “CAN I BE ‘SCUUUSED!?”

“Verra well,” he sighed at Claire with a wink, Bree seizing upon this as permission and tearing out of the kitchen while Jamie dried his hands. “I suppose I’ll don my coat and set off all alone into the frigid—”

“Meeeeee!!”

At last, he took notice of the smallest Fraser, who had been wrapped around his leg. “Why, hallo, YOU.” 

“Go, too?” he asked excitedly in Gaelic, giving a little bounce for emphasis. “Me, too?”

He took a moment to simply marvel. The boy didn’t always choose to speak, but when he did, it never failed to surprise Jamie how much he truly understood of the action swirling about over his head. And to reply to English with Gaelic, forbye! Perhaps it shouldn’t be shocking, seeing as how Ian had been hearing it spoken since birth, but Lord, his pronunciation was near perfect as he begged, “Go, too, Daddy?” 

“Ye want to come wi’ Da to see the horses, jo?” (in English, for Claire’s sake). 

Ian nodded once and beamed, raising his hands expectantly and switching languages without missing a beat. “Go-’IF!”

Jamie gripped Ian’s wrists and let the lad climb up his front like a mountaineer, grinning as broadly as he. “Go we shall, then!” 

“But, shouldn’t–? Jesus H. Christ, I can’t believe I’m asking this, with the chance at a 50% less chaotic day on offer,” Claire laughed, coming to stand with them and rumple Ian’s hair, “but won’t he be in your way?”

“This wee face?” he said, kissing it. “Nay, never.”

—-

It might well be, in actual fact, Jamie admitted as he set the pair off them off for Fernacre. A child of sixteen months was never a simple matter, even as one as generally agreeable as Ian, but having the lad with him was well worth a bit of disruption here and there.

It wasn’t simply Ian’s acuity that had startled him earlier, but that the lad had asked to go with Da. With him. 

His heart melted afresh as he thought on it, as he felt Ian’s head, warm and heavy against his hip. 

Naturally, the singular bond with Claire had stayed strong, even past the time he was weaned. Many was the occasion that Ian would suddenly turn from Jamie and wail for her, entirely inconsolable until he might cry against her shoulder and be soothed by her hands, her voice. 

There was nothing malicious in the preference, of course. Brianna was a never-ceasing demander of energies and was always happy to fill any vacancy left by her brother. Besides, Jamie could see the wee one’s point, for he likewise had a very strong desire to be held by Claire at all times. 

Even so, being singled out himself by the lad was yet new enough that it sent a warm, silly thrill through his chest each time, almost like being a schoolboy again: happily heartsick over his attentions being returned. 

“And if it’s no’ being in love,” he murmured as he slowed the car, palm atop the boy’s head, “I haven’t the faintest idea.” 

“We-heer?” Ian exclaimed, coming to life and nearly toppling over as he tried to stand on the seat mid-parking. ‘We-heer?”

Scooping him up with one arm, Jamie stepped out into the chill. “Aye, here!” He bent to set Ian down, remembering the great bag of diapering supplies, food, and toys in the back seat.  “Off ye g—”

“Nooooo!” The boy turned violently legless, twisting impressively to avoid touching the ground. 

“Ian, ye–” 

“Hoam-me!”

“Do ye no’ want to walk on your own feet like a big boy?” He already kent well the answer.

His brown-haired lad gave an uncanny impression of Claire’s ‘don’t talk nonsense’ face. “HOAM-me.”

A Sucker he was, wi’ no hope for it whatsoever. He chuckled and sighed, hoisting the lad up higher.  “Today you win, joey.” 

Strange, thinking back now, that he’d gone the first quarter-century of life knowing nothing of Kangaroos.

He’d first learnt the odd word in the days when his appetite for knowledge of the centuries missed had made trips to the library a near-daily event. Australia— what a wonder that place seemed to him! All that vast expanse, filled with such uncanny creatures. A nightmarish beast, this one had looked from the illustration: like a man-sized hare with a great, thick tail, tapering like a lizard’s; eerily man-like in the arms and chest, capable of leaping thirty feet in one bound before kicking one’s teeth in.  

Still, a softer recollection had come straightaway to mind later, when Claire began to carry Ian about the house in a sling on her front. Jenny, too, had worn her bairns, wrapped in a shawl on her back, yet there was something all the more intimate in seeing mother and child nestled chest-to-chest amid the mundane tasks of the day; seeing Claire wrap her arms around him with utter tenderness, whispering soft love; the babe dozing as she worked and moved about, warm and safe in the comfort of her heartbeat, just as he had been in the womb.

Both the nickname and the love of being cuddled had stuck, and it was only sight of the horses of Barn A that coaxed Jamie’s little marsupial down. True-to-form, he hit the stable floor with a hop.  

Jamie made quick inspection of his four-footed charges. No need for mucking out, God be praised; just feeding, watering, and a bit of love for each. He began making his way down the first aisle of eight, Ian toddling along to watch, full of quiet wonder. 

It had been some time since he’d gotten to be alone–mostly alone– with the horses. Nearly all his working days were spent in the paddocks, training the young or new ones; coaching the riders on how they might better work in harmony with the being beneath them. He loved it, took such pride and joy in witnessing the excitement of human and beast alike as they improved, as they bonded.

Yet it brought his heart a different sort of joy, the quieter sort, to be in the stables on a still morning such as this, gentle mist seeming to soften the hard edges of world and word.

They soon reached the last stall on the eastern side. “How goes it, a nighean?” he crooned to Cornflower, who knocked her snout into his shoulder in companionable greeting. 

“Pat him?” Ian asked in the same language, honey-eyes glowing. 

“Aye, ye can pat *her.*” 

Lifted high, Ian gingerly reached out to touch the mighty neck. 

“Morning, Jamie!” 

“The same to you!” 

He turned them to face Tom, who was coming through the door with two steaming cups.“HEY! Look who came to help his Papa out! Jeez, Jamie, when did he get so darn tall?” 

“Tis our constant question, as well!” He set Ian atop a stack of hay bales by Corny’s door and gratefully reached to take the mug. 

Tom winked at Ian. “How you doing today, little man?”

“Hiii,” was all Ian said before covering his face so nothing save grinning eyes showed between hat and mittens. 

God bless Tom Harper, Jamie prayed sincerely as they sipped and chatted, discussing business, the children, all the usual things. Of all the people in his new life, it was Tom that minded him most of Murtagh: always near, always willing, always irreverant, yet always looking after ye from afar. It wasn’t often he thought of it: but knowing that Tom was only ever a call away should emergency strike or counsel be needed of one with more years of experience in the world was an immense comfort, more than Jamie could ever truly express to the man. 

A jubilant shriek erupted from behind them. 

Ian had descended the hay bales and was now right underneath Cornflower’s stall, head thrown back, both hands reaching up to touch– 

“IAN, STO–” 

“Mmmm-wah!” Ian kissed the fuzzy snout, right in the spot between the heaving nostrils. He bounced on his heels, chirped ‘Bye!!’ to her in Gaelic, then ran toward the next stall. 

Jamie crossed the space in two leaps to yank him backward….but of all the wonders, Hector was already at the front of the stall in response to Ian’s command.

“What’d he say??” Tom whispered.  

“He said, ‘Come here.’”

“Whoa….” 

The horse had lowered his neck, inspecting Ian judiciously. Jamie kept both hands around the boy’s ribs, half-crouched in readiness to rip him away at the slightest sign of danger….but as though by magic, Hector nudged his snout deliberately into Ian’s outstretched hands with a tiny nicker, getting an enchanting giggle and kiss in return. 

“Christ in Heaven…..” 

Tom hooted. “I. will. be. DAMNED!!” 

Jamie discovered both that his mouth had fallen open and that his son was already in front of the next stall, charming his mark. He and Tom stayed close, heart still thudding in terror of the inevitable crushed finger or nip on the face, but no….  one by one, each horse willingly lowered their nose for a kiss. 

It wasn’t just heedless affection young Ian radiated: it was instinct, too. For, when Bard put back his ears and snorted, the lad took a tidy step backward, not offended in the slightest. He only gave the brute a cheery wave and moved on to find his next sweetheart. 

“Well done, a bhalaich!” he laughed, giving the lad a squeeze.

“Fanks!” Ian wriggled out without a backward glance, intent on his mission. 

Tom groaned as he settled onto a bench, beckoning Jamie to do the same.  “So little Ian takes to horses a bit more naturally than Brianna, huh?”

“Aye…” Jamie exhaled heavily, allowing himself to sit and relax. “He’s got a way about him.” 

Tom resumed sipping his coffee (Jamie’s somewhere on the floor), watching Ian and chuckling. “You do crank out some damned cute kiddos, Jamie.”

“I do have a damned cute wife.”

They laughed and Jamie’s mind wandered, even as they continued to chat, even as he kept Ian in the corner of his vision. 

Strange, no? How bairns can be so similar in some ways and yet so different in others. Bree, with her warrior spirit, indomitable, was nearly as frightened of horses now as the first time he’d brought her here. This morning she had blamed the coat and the cold, but Jamie knew it was more to do with the great stomping hooves and enormous teeth. Never would she admit fear, of course. She would fluster and put on that wee glower he loved so well, but beneath it, the lass was petrified.

Contrast this with Ian, for all he might be the more quiet and cautious in life as a whole, who showed no fear whatsoever here in the stable. True, he had seen horses before, even ridden one on Jamie’s lap, so there was no factor of shock as there had been with Bree. Still… Strength and courage manifests to each of us in our own way. A comforting thought, in this ever-changing world, no? Unlike Jenny and Ian, he had not one clue how his children might spend their lives once grown, so many paths being available to them. It weighed heavily on him some days– but if they each find their strength, wheresoever it might lie, then surely they shall find their own prosperous path, as well….

Sounds of human and equine unease sent his head whipping round. Merlin, one of the younger horses of this bunch, was standing in the window with no apparent intent to lower his head. Ian was grunting, jumping up and down to get the laddie’s attention with a persistent, “Hiii? HIIIII???” on repeat.

“He may no’ wish to talk just now, Ian.”

The boy whirled eagerly and pointed back up over his shoulder. “Up, Da?” Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted over, eyes bright with urgency. “Da, Up! Up, ‘kay?”

“I think you’d better pick him up, Jamie, before he blows a gasket,” groaned Tom as he stood, heading toward to door to continue his day. 

“Take it easy, Tom,” he called. 

“You do the same!” 

“Daaaaa, UPPP???“

He heard Tom’s infectious laugh vanish into the distance. 

–

“Easy now,” he murmured to the horse in Gaelic as they approached, reaching out his free hand to carefully rub the long, white neck. Merlin blew out through his nostrils. “Aye, I ken, your wizardship, ‘tis a bit unconventional, but the wee thing just wants to say hello, aye? Can ye find it in your heart?” 

“No scary,” Ian promised. 

With sudden inspiration, Jamie rifled in his coat pocket and held out the contents to the wary brute. “And what say ye now, friend?”

Merlin held back a moment for dignity, then descended upon his treat. 

“W’ ‘is ‘it?” demanded Ian, back to English in his curiosity.  

“Give me your hand—“ Jamie pulled the mitten off with his teeth. “Cup your fingers like a wee bowl, aye?”

Ian peered into his palm.“…..’Is ‘at, Daddy?” 

“'Tis a sugar cube. Shall we see if he’d like some more?”

Ian’s eyes lit up and he swiveled around toward the horse so suddenly he dropped the cube. Once resupplied, he held his arm out at full length, bellowing, “Hiiiii!”  

Ian squealed in delight as the huge lips and teeth explored his hand. “Mooorr-Da!”

Many, many sugar cubes later, Jamie crouched to set Ian on his feet, but the lad  flung his arms about Jamie’s neck with an insistent “Nnnhhhh!”

“Christ, you’re truly naught but a barnacle wi’ legs!” Jamie gave up, kissing the boy’s capped head. “If I ever thought your sister was a cuddly sort, there was no fathoming what was to come, wee jo.”

“Moor-coops?” Ian asked, popping up to search Jamie’s face.

Jamie checked his pocket, coming up with one last sugar cube. Ian didn’t miss a beat. He took it between his fingers, said ‘Heer-Da,’ and pressed it firmly against Jamie’s lips. 

“You’re a sweet one, a chuisle,” Jamie said, crunching the sugar and kissing the hand. “And you’re lucky the horses didna chomp all your wee fingers off—!!” 

Ian squealed as Jamie made play of gobbling them up, his little belly shaking with giggles so deep he began turning red. 

“Allllllright, lad,” Jamie soothed after a time, before the lad exploded, “we’d best be going.” 

“Go home?” 

“Nay, no’ until later. We have three more barns to check, yet. Let’s hope ye have enough kisses left in ye.”

.

He did. 

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 19

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) I LOVE THIS CHAPTER SO MUCH I’VE BEEN SO EXCITED TO SHARE IT FOREVER!!!

Tag List (Open): @batboys-and-other-messes  @probsjosh​ @seventhbunny @simply-x-nanna @spooder-moon @welovegroot

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, Ch 13, Ch 14, Ch 15, Ch 16, Ch 17, Ch 18

^^^^^

“McCloud? Have you seen anyone who lives in this house?” Damian asked, poking his head into my room. I looked up from my laptop.

“Uh… Tim and Bruce had a meeting with Lucius I think so Alfred drove them into town… I think Dick went to work or Blüdhaven for the day or an old Titan pal called or something. Jason went…” I waved my hand in dismissive thought. “... out. And Cass is still out of town. Why, what’s up?”

Damian shook his head. “Nothing of grave importance. I injured my elbow on patrol last night and can’t bend it enough to shave without it hurting.” He shrugged. “And I don’t want to use my non-dominant hand because I don’t want to slip up and slice myself.”

I shrugged. “I can do it,” I said casually.

Damian cocked a skeptical eyebrow at me. “You think you can shave a man’s face?”

“No. I know I can.”

“With a straight razor?”

“Yup.”

“No offense but why would you even know how to do that?”

“My dad had shoulder problems.”

“So he taught you how?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not. I watched the way my mom would help him shave and taught myself. I did the same with braiding my own hair. Just watched Mom braid mine in the mirror and figured it out.” I smiled and hopped off my bed. “I’ll help you.”

“Alright,” he relented. Damian led me to his room and into his bathroom. I boosted myself up onto the counter so I was closer to his height and sprayed some shaving cream into the lid of the canister. I used the brush to spread it evenly over his face. I flipped a small towel over his shoulder and picked up the razor.

He was a little too far to reach, like he was hanging back nervously. I rolled my eyes and pulled him so he was standing between my knees.

“Okay hold still and do as I say,” I instructed.

“Careful,” he cautioned.

I smirked. “Always. Trust me: if I were to cut you with this it wouldn’t be an accident. I know what I’m doing.” I paused. “Unless you move when I tell you not to. That would be an accident.” I leaned forward and lifted the razor. “Okay hold still.”

^^^^^

Damian froze. He felt the cold razor blade gently touch his skin and glide over it. He could hear the tiny hairs as the sharp edge sliced each one off.

He couldn’t see his reflection in the mirror due to McCloud’s head’s reflection, so he just watched her.

Her dark, intense eyes followed her progress with the razor with more focus than he had ever seen on her before. Her expression was neutral and relaxed, but her tongue was poking out of the corner of her lips in concentration. He’d seen that look on her before—many times.

Her touch was careful as she carefully shaped the hair that grew in front of his ear, cutting away his hair’s attempt at sideburns and tilted his head to the side to slide the razor under his jaw and down his neck.

Standing so close to her, Damian could smell her shampoo, even past the scent of his shaving cream near his nose. It smelled of strawberries and cream.

It took a lot of Damian’s rational thought to keep his instincts from lashing out and getting her away from him. Baring his neck like this to a highly-trained person with a sharp blade in their hand went against everything he’d ever been taught. This was dangerous. This could be deadly. This was wrong.

This was trust.

He surrendered himself to McCloud’s mercy. Damian knew she wouldn’t willingly harm him, but his assassin instincts were screaming at him to throw her through the medicine cabinet. He closed his eyes for a moment to calm his racing heart as she stroked down his face again.

His heartbeat would not slow. He took careful, even breaths. But it didn’t help.

He opened his eyes again, watching her watch the razor. She seemed very relaxed, focused and confident in her ability. There was a gentle innocence to her entire appearance. There always had been. She could be the most cynical, jaded girl on the planet with everything she’d gone through, and yet through it all she retained a stubborn optimism. Usually saying, “Hope for the best, plan for the worst.” Damian knew she worried a lot. But he also knew she was determined to bring a bit of normalcy to the family who’d taken her in.

Damian could feel his heart pulling him toward her. As though it were a magnet and she was the opposite pole. He found himself subconsciously leaning closer to her, trusting her touch more and more with every second he let her brush the blade over his skin. He was so close that he could lean forward an inch or two and touch her forehead with his lips.

He gulped and swallowed the passionate desire rising in his chest with it. Not the time or place for thoughts like that.

She guided his face to the other side to work his other cheek before venturing around his mouth and chin. “Doin’ okay, Damian?” she asked quietly, tone completely innocent of the thoughts and feelings churning just underneath the surface of Damian’s skin.

“Fine,” he managed. She smiled.

“Good,” she said. She bit her lower lip and pulled the razor down. “I’m almost done.”

^^^^^

Calm DOWN, Nora! I thought sharply, forcing myself to look relaxed. It’s just Damian. You’ve known him for YEARS!

Yeah but not as a ridiculously attractive man my age. Who looked like he’d been carved from marble by a god. Who was standing literal inches from our torsos being pressed together. Who was so close I could plant my lips against his soft, newly-shaved skin. I bit my lower lip and tried to keep myself from thinking about it. I couldn’t afford to be distracted right now. One slip of the mind could mean a slip of the hand and I was not going to slice Damian’s skin open.

He’d grown to be more handsome than Jason—which was probably saying something—with a strong jawline that almost worried me to shave over, and regal features. He had an elegant look to him—a contradictory smooth sharpness that was drawing me in.

C’mon Nora. Focus. I took a deep breath and sighed, hoping to steady my hand a little better. I’d done this before and I knew what I was doing. Concentrate on that. The blade. The hair. The shaving cream. The skin. Nothing more. Not how the skin looks or how it gently shines in the lights of the bathroom or how amazingly soft it would feel to run my hands over it now that it had been shaved—

NORA!

Another deep breath. Keep it together. Focus on the task at hand. Block out everything else, just like how Bruce taught you to. Disconnect from emotion. Everything’s fine.

I brushed down with the razor again, feeling each hair get sliced off. His hair and mine were similar in that they were both thick enough to be able to feel and sometimes even hear them get cut with a blade.

“Okay do this,” I instructed, curling my lips around my teeth like I was pretending to be an old person. Damian did so.

Ever so carefully, I started to shave his upper lip, leaning so incredibly close to him—so I could see—that our noses were practically touching. If he minded, he didn’t say so. I just wanted to be accurate and delicate. I really didn’t want to hurt him.

I glanced up at his eyes—which were already staring at me. “You okay?” I asked.

“Of course,” he breathed.

“Chin now,” I said. “Hold still.”

“Of course,” he repeated.

^^^^^

The tension was so palpable that Damian was surprised McCloud didn’t cut it with every stroke of the razor she made.

She was so near and so present that the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore. Her warmth, her hands, her even, precise strokes and firm beauty drained the rest of reality away more efficiently than any time-jump Damian had ever made.

He could feel himself falling for her harder than he ever had before. Sure he liked her and had a crush on her as a young teen, but now with her sitting right here, perfectly positioned to lock her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck—Don’t think about that, he reminded himself—he could feel him digging deeper into that hole of emotion. Burrowing into love and desire with reckless abandon.

She finished shaving around his chin and even managed to be precise but careful on his Adam’s Apple. She took the towel off his shoulder and wiped the excess shaving cream off his face. Biting her lip awkwardly—a look Damian found so attractive he could have kissed her right then—she lifted one hand. “Mind if I check to make sure I didn’t miss any patches?” McCloud asked.

Damian lifted his chin, baring his throat to her. “Not at all,” he answered.

She ran her hand down, around, and up his face on both sides, also sliding her fingers over his neck and upper lip. It was all Damian could do not to sigh with pleasure. Her skin was soft and her touch soothing. Her hands dropped. “Okay. You’re all good.” She grinned and passed him his bottle of aftershave that had been sitting behind her. “Guessing you can do this on your own?”

“Yes. I can,” he said.

^^^^^

I hopped off the counter and tried not to have a heart attack as I left Damian’s quarters. I could have cut the atmosphere in that small cramped bathroom with a rusty spoon!

Once I got back to my bedroom, I collapsed face-first onto my bed and just panted. I’d been holding my breath a lot while I worked and had never felt that intense. I didn’t have words for my emotions. In my mind’s eye I saw Damian’s skin under my fingers. Felt its smooth softness as I lightly brushed over it to check for missed hairs. Saw his green eyes piercing right into my soul, pulling my heart right out of my chest.

Uh-oh.

No.

Oh no.

Nuh-uh.

This was not happening.

I was not developing a crush on Damian Wayne!

Next

[god--baby]

maybe, baby (nsfw)

ambiguously gendered reader x oc (john cleaver)

anonymous requested: if you want, more mr cleaver smut would be great. i love him

and i gotta say, i love him too. 

summary: after you flirt with a bartender, your daddy has to punish you. spanking, daddy kink, and the strongest aftercare game ever

word count: 2248

tag list: @heckstetter @tonguepopperr @cutegoat-boy @benzomb

John ushered you into his apartment, letting you pause to give Lydia some pets before you truly walked in. He shut the door quietly behind him, then went to the kitchen and poured himself a finger of whiskey, sipping it silently as he watched you pet Lydia again. When you were done with her, you went to him. He was being even more quiet than usual.

“What are you thinking about, daddy?” you asked, leaning on the counter.

He swallowed and looked away from you, out the little window above the sink.

“I don’t like how you were talking to the bartender tonight,” he said.

“No?”

“No. You were flirting with him right in front of me, baby.”

You fought back a smile. You wrestled the smirk from your lips and tried to look apologetic.

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

He shot back the last of his whiskey and set the tumbler down, hard.

“No, you’re not, baby.”

You smiled, finally.

“Maybe I’m not,” you said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m going to make you sorry you ever smiled at him. You ever said a single word to him.”

You took a deep breath as he walked up to you, then scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. Surprised, you laughed and lightly hit his back. Kicking your feet, giggling, slapping his back.

“Daddy, what are you doing?” you laughed.

“You better wipe that smile off your face, little one.”

You abruptly stopped laughing. He was deadly serious.

He got you both into his bedroom, the room you hoped would be yours, too, one day. He set you down and closed the door.

“Take off your clothes. Right now,” he said, sitting down on his bed.

You did, slowly stripping for him to watch, seeing how his eyes focused on each new inch of skin you showed off. Watching him watching you.

Once you were completely bare, he stood and patted the bed where he’d been sitting.

“Put both your hands right there, little one.”

You swallowed. He only called you that when he was about to really lay into you.

“What if I don’t want to?” you asked.

You knew you were pushing your luck.

He growled and grabbed you, pulling you up against him, his front to your back. You could feel his cock growing hard in his pants, pressing up against your ass.

“You do what I tell you, now, or you don’t get to come for a week. Are we understood, little one?”

You closed your eyes and wiggled your ass against him.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Good. Now, put your hands on the bed.”

You did, pulling away from him to do it. You looked over your shoulder at him as he straightened his shirt from the mess you made as he carried you. He unbuttoned one more button and rolled up his sleeves. Then, he rubbed his hands together.

He was making you wait, expecting the worst.

Then, he slapped your ass, hard. You weren’t ready, and your knees almost gave out under that hard blow. You got better situated, putting your head down in between your arms, spreading your legs. He gave you another slap, and then two more, quick, on either side of your ass. You moaned, unable to hold it in.

“Such a dirty little thing. I wonder what that bartender would think about you spread out like this, waiting on daddy to keep spanking you.”

He slapped your ass again, right in the middle, his big hand nearly covering your entire ass.

“Can I —” you breathed — “can I touch myself?”

“Absolutely not,” he ground out, spanking you again. And again. And one more time, harder than before.

You held back a scream, letting a long whine fall out of your mouth.

“Daddy, please,” you started.

“No, little one,” he said. “You’re not getting anything from me but a spanking right now.”

“But daddy,” you said. “Please, I’m so turned on.”

“I said,” he growled, spanking you again at full force, “no.”

You didn’t try talking for another minute or so as he kept at you, turning your ass purple with his hands. You just moaned. You just bit your tongue and whimpered.

“Look at you, baby,” he said softly as he paused. “Look at your ass.”

You swallowed.

“Will you please fuck me, daddy?” you begged. “Please, I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Mm,” he said. “Much as I want to, I’m not done.”

Then he started up again, not full force, holding himself back. You were grateful — you weren’t sure how much more of his ministrations you could take if he wasn’t.

You sighed and breathed in time with the strikes. In while waiting, out when his hand hit your ass. It had you breathing hard and fast, almost hyperventilating, he was so quick.

Finally, he stopped, pressing his crotch to your ass.

“Now, what did we learn, baby?” he asked.

You sighed.

“No flirting with anyone else,” you replied.

“Mm hm. Because you know what?”

“What?”

“I took it easy on you tonight. I could have used your body and not let you come.”

You moaned, one of your hands twitching. You wanted so desperately to touch yourself, and you could tell by his chuckle and how his hands tightened on your hips that he knew it.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said. “You’ll come, tonight.”

“Thank you, daddy,” you breathed.

“Stay right there,” he said.

He pulled away from you and you looked over your shoulder at him, watching as he slowly got undressed, carefully taking his clothes off and setting them to the side, draping them over his reading chair. He got a condom out of the bedside table and rolled it on.

“Get on the bed,” he said lightly. “Face down.”

You swallowed and did it, crossing your wrists on the bed in front of your face.

He watched you, considered you.

“Hm,” he said. “You need a pillow under your hips, baby.”

“Okay, daddy.”

You grabbed one and slid it under you, enjoying how it placed your ass higher in the air.

“There, now,” he said. “That’s perfect. So gorgeous.”

You blushed.

“Thank you, daddy.”

He climbed up on the bed and straddled your legs, massaging your sore ass with both hands, spreading it so he could see your hole better. You watched over your shoulder as he licked two of his fingers and slid them over your hole, then pressed both in, slowly, digit by digit. You let out a heavy breath.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

“Yes, daddy. Thank you.”

“So polite,” he said, humming.

“Am I — am I good for you?”

“Right now? You’re being very good for daddy, baby. Very good.”

“Okay.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, just a slow drag. Then you felt the head of his cock press at your hole, not going inside, just laying there.

“But I still don’t like how you behaved tonight,” he said. “You were being awfully naughty.”

He slowly pushed his cock into you, letting you stretch around him. When he was completely in, he stayed like that, trying your patience. He adjusted his legs, setting his knees wider, but just… stayed inside you.

“I think you still deserve to be punished,” he said, finally dragging out and pushing back in again.

“How are you going to punish me, daddy?” you asked.

“I think you know,” he said.

And then he picked up the pace, slamming into you again and again. You put your face to the bedspread, moaning loud and long, holding back screams. And then you couldn’t hold them back anymore, screaming into the comforter.

“That’s it, baby. Let it out. Let me hear how you feel.”

“Daddy,” you moaned. “Holy fuck.”

“Mm.”

He kneaded your ass, pressing his fingers in so hard you know it would bruise.

“Such a beautiful ass you have, baby,” he said, still pounding into you. “It’s really a shame that I had to spank you so hard.”

“Yeah,” you said, breathless.

Your breath kept hitching. You’d take a breath and have to hold it until he slammed into you again and it fell out of your lips again.

“Daddy,” you breathed. “Please, oh, please, daddy. I want to come so bad.”

“I come first tonight. Are we understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

You could hear his smile as he replied.

“Good.”

He kept fucking into you for a few minutes, putting you so close to coming, you weren’t sure you could hold off. As if he knew that, he pulled completely out, getting off the bed and going around to the other side, kneeling in front of your face, his cock at eye level.

“Suck daddy’s cock,” he said.

You opened your mouth, and he pushed his cock inside. You lapped at the thick head, swirled your tongue around it, licked at the slit. He growled and pushed in further and set to fucking your mouth at a brutal pace, barely letting you stop to breathe before he’d push back in again.

“Such a naughty little thing,” he breathed, pushing his hair off his forehead.

You reached out and cradled his balls in one hand, rolling them around.

He came in your mouth, pulling out so he could see his cum shooting onto your tongue. He moaned, loud and long as he watched you swallow it and stick your tongue out again to show him how it was clean.

He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, looking down at you with nothing less than adoration.

Then he got off the bed, letting you lay there, panting, for a moment before he came back, pulling your ass to the edge of the bed. He knelt and began eating you out, pushing his tongue into you and pulling it out, then licking at you, sucking. He pushed three fingers into you and pumped them hard and fast.

You came, chanting “daddy, daddy, oh, daddy,” over and over again, your whole body shaking.

“Sit up,” he said softly.

You tried to push yourself up on your elbows and fell back down again, giggling, riding the high. He laughed and picked you up, carrying you out of the room into the kitchen. He turned on his electric kettle and then carried you into the bathroom. He set you in the bathtub and turned on the faucet, putting his hand in the stream, testing the temperature.

Satisfied, he kissed your forehead and said, “I’ll be right back.”

He was back in a couple of minutes to turn off the faucet as you reclined in the warm water. He handed you a bath bomb, and you set it in the water between your spread legs, watching it fizz and fill the bathroom with the scents of mint and eucalyptus.

He handed you a mug, and you took a sip of what it held. Earl Grey tea with whiskey. You took another sip and then a gulp. He motioned for you to scoot forward, and you did. He got in the tub behind you, setting his hands on your waist, pulling you back on him.

Neither of you said anything for a minute as you finished your cup, quickly getting tipsy, thanks to the warm whiskey. You put the mug down on the floor next to the tub and laid your head down on his shoulder, closing your eyes.

“I love you, daddy,” you said.

“I love you too, darling,” he said.

He ran a wet hand through your hair.

“You’re going to be very good for me, now, aren’t you?” he asked, cupping water in his hands and letting it roll down your chest.

You giggled.

“Maybe,” you said.

“Baby,” he warned.

“Maybe, baby, I’ll have you,” you sang, giggling, imitating Buddy Holly.

He laughed and sang the next line.

“Maybe, baby, you’ll be true.”

“Maybe, baby, I’ll have youuuu for me,” you finished.

You turned your head to kiss his jaw.

“I want to make you come again,” he said after he’d let out a little sigh. “Really relax you. Help you sleep.”

“Well, how could I say no to that?” you asked.

“Mm, good,” he said, the sound grumbling in his chest.

He slipped a hand down between your legs, pushing two fingers into you nice and slow, pumping them. He used his other hand to stroke at you after he pinched one of your nipples. You let out a light moan, pushing yourself down on his fingers, fucking them up into you.

You came a minute later, shaking in his arms. He kissed your temple over and over again, soothing you.

“There you go, baby,” he said. “So good, coming for me. So good.”

“You like that, daddy?” you asked.

“Very much. I love making you come.”

“Good,” you said, sinking lower into the water.

In half an hour, he decided he was done. He got out of the water and helped you step out of the tub. He dried you off with a clean towel, patting you down as you leaned on him, both hands on his shoulders, knees a little weak.

Then he led you back into the bedroom, putting you on the bed. You crawled under the covers, pulling them up to your chin. He got in bed behind you, pulling you up against him, one arm around your middle. He kissed the back of your head.

“Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, daddy. I love you.”

“Mm. I love you, too.”

[shenanigumi]

Can I ask for both NagaChi and SakaChi for the ultimate ship meme please (not sure about the policy of asking for two pairings/ones not specifically on your list for memes)? Thank you!

The list is just for reference as to the pairings I actively ship, as in the ones I’ll most likely be most enthusiastic/detailed about answering, but you can still ask for others. And multiple ships, but since this is such a long meme, I’ll do NagaChi on this response and SakaChi in a text post~

General:

Rate the Ship: Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? Longer than anyone can imagine, given that Shinpachi is such a flirt that no one believes he’d settle down like this. (Little do they know that Chizuru is compelling enough to entice him to do so.)

How quickly did/will they fall in love? Not very, to be honest. If you’d told either of them that they’d end up together in the beginning, neither of them would have believed you. Their feelings did start out as brotherly-and-sisterly, but then developed outside those parameters. Both of them were in denial at first, Shinpachi much more strongly than Chizuru, but they eventually figured it out.

How was their first kiss? We saw it, but as far as I’m concerned, it came too late. They needed about fifteen more before that.

Wedding:

Who proposed? Shinpachi. We actually saw that~

Who are the best man and groomsmen? Not applicable, but the rest of the guys (Harada and Heisuke in particular) were probably there in spirit.

Who are the maid of honor and bridesmaids? Not applicable, but I like to think Sen visited and took that position in retrospect.

Who did the most planning? Shinpachi, or rather, his family. He still had a clan to return to, which is more than Chizuru could say.

Who stressed the most? Shinpachi. Chizuru was surprisingly chill about the whole thing, but Shinpachi is fully aware of his reputation and his wild youth. There was a part of him that doubted, though his guilt in response to that doubt was the bigger stressor by far.

How fancy was the ceremony? Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? Unfortunately, everyone. They’d lost track of everyone by then, and honestly didn’t want to know most of their fates.

Sex:

Who is on top? Shinpachi, generally.

Who is the one to instigate things? Usually Shinpachi, but he reeeeaaaally likes it when Chizuru makes the first move.

How healthy is their sex life? Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once or twice a week, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? Not a long time, but long enough to satisfy them both, and they often go multiple rounds.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? Yes. Shinpachi in particular is very careful with Chizuru because he hasn’t been the most generous before.

How rough are they in bed? Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? Probably just one.

How many children will they adopt? None.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? Chizuru, because Shinpachi doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.

Who is the stricter parent? Both of them are about equally structured in their style, which is to say, not a lot… but don’t cross certain lines.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? Chizuru, because Shinpachi tends to get involved.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? Chizuru for sure.

Who is the more loved parent? Both of them, but Chizuru acts more like a parent and is a lot better at helping out when needed (and discerning when she’s needed in the first place), so she probably wins by a small margin.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Chizuru, if they existed in this setting.

Who cried the most at graduation? Shinpachi, if that was a thing. Not that Chizuru didn’t cry too, but Shinpachi really let loose. He’d been bottling up everything for long enough, certainly.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? Both of them, but Shinpachi might actually succeed once he stops being a fugitive.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Chizuru for sure. There are other people in the household who could technically take care of that, but she’s happy to do it.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? Shinpachi isn’t picky, but he’s more likely to get random cravings. For instance, he’ll beg Chizuru to prepare some sort of extravagant feast, and she’ll laugh and oblige.

Who does the grocery shopping? Chizuru, but sometimes Shinpachi tags along to prove that chivalry isn’t dead by carrying her purchases.

How often do they bake desserts? Quite a lot.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? Chizuru makes sure Shinpachi gets a balanced diet, since he’s not so picky that he cares that much anyway.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? Shinpachi is more likely to help have one made, since Chizuru works so hard in the kitchen all the time. If he tried it on his own, the results would likely be disastrous.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? Shinpachi. He likes going out on the town, especially if it means showing off his lovely wife. Giving her a break from cooking and showing his generosity is a huge bonus, too.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? Shinpachi.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? Chizuru, but she has Shinpachi wrapped around her little finger, so it’s not too hard to get him to help. Again, other people could technically take care of it, but she likes being able to maintain her own space.

Who is really against chores? Shinpachi. But Chizuru is more than capable of offering him rewards and incentive.

Who cleans up after the pets? They don’t keep pets.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? Shinpachi. Chizuru always notices, but doesn’t say anything.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? Both of them are fairly uptight given that ‘guests’ could mean anything from old friends to deadly enemies, but Chizuru tends to fret more over the little details.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? Shinpachi. He kept it.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? Shinpachi. He remembers times when he didn’t get to relax for as long as he wanted, so he’s decided to make up for it now. Often, Chizuru joins him.

Who takes the dog out for a walk? They don’t have one, mostly because Shinpachi is almost like a puppy already.

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? Always. Their clan is rather festive, and having lived through a number of life-threatening events, Shinpachi in particular is enthusiastic about celebrating life.

What are their goals for the relationship? Just staying alive and together is enough at this point. Love will do the rest.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? Shinpachi. And, quite often, he does. He still has nocturnal tendencies and gets sleepy in the sunlight, even if it’s no longer painful.

Who plays the most pranks? Shinpachi, but they’re always benign.

[wanna-see-my-lease]

Could you do a Gibbs x reader where she comes to his office to surprise him? Just really cute and fluffy. Thanks!

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Masterlist 

Show: NCIS

Summary: You couldn’t wait to see those blue eyes looking back at you in person.

Pairing: Jethro Gibbs x Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Word Count: 770

Reading Time: 3 minutes-ish

Request: Requests are open - check out the prompts list here.

Prompt: Not this time lol

A/N: Oh this got away from me, not that I am complaining. Thank-you for reading ♥ Feedback is always welcomed and requests are open XoX

Tags: @emilyymichelle @lucifersagents @ncisfanficsandmore @spaceemonkeyyxd @of-badges-and-guns @gabriels-trix

Last anyone had heard from you, you were an agent afloat and you were going to be gone for at least eight months. Before that you were working in New Orleans, and before that you were in Washington. That’s where you were working with Gibbs and his team, and when you transferred is when you and Gibbs developed a relationship.The relationship was strong, as the two of you understood that work came first. The distance was never a problem as when you two were together it was like a fairy tale. No one else understood how the two of you made it work, but it just seems to and neither one of you was about to complain.

It had been about six months since you had seen Gibbs, and you were dying to get your feet on dry land. Thankful that the ship had ported in New Orleans for the next four days, you had gotten word to command that you were going to be in Washington for two of them. Having that cleared, you took off as soon as your feet hit ground. You wanted nothing more than to put your work aside for those days and surprise the love of your life.

Stopping in a NCIS in New Orleans, you said hi to the team there. You had to, seeing as how Pride and Doctor Wade were two of your best friends next to Doctor Mallard. From there, Pride was happy to take you to the airport to catch a flight to Washington. He agreed that he would be there to take you back to the port when you came back.

It was mid-morning when you had gotten to the Washington Navel Base, and into the NCIS building. You didn’t need a visitor badge, for you are an NCIS agent, which meant that getting through security was easy. You got in the elevator and made your way up tot he bullpen. You knew that you were going to have to stop in Abby’s lab and stop in a see Ducky but you had your heart set on making this stop first.

As you made your way off the lift, you noticed that DiNozzo, Ziva and McGee were the only ones in, that your Marine wasn’t. Oh, well it will be just that much more of a surprise when he came from wherever he was. And with that, you didn’t miss a step as you walked up to the desks.

“Well, it looks like you’ve gotten some sun since you’ve been a float.” Tony smiled as he spotted you, “That reminds me…” He started as he stood up.

“If it’s a movie reference, you can stove it.” Ziva commented as she looked up from her computer screen.

“Stuff it,” Tony corrected, “She means stuff it.”

Standing up Ziva held her hand out, “I don’t believe I’ve hand the pleasure,” She said as she shook your hand, “Ziva David, Mossade Liaison officer.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You answered.

“Wait, the same Y/N Y/L/N…” Ziva started, but quickly stopped mid-sentence.

“Yes, David,” Gibbs stated as he came up from behind you and gave you a chase kiss, “I thought you weren’t goin’ to be back for another couple months.”

“Shore leave in Orleans. Thought I would surprise you.” You smiled as you gave him another kiss.

“Y/N!” Abbys voice sounded from behind you, as she started to run towards you.

“I think you did just that.” He smiled as Abby pulled you into a big up.

“Abby wanted me to let her know if you showed,” McGee smiled from his desk.

“And I’ve ever so glad you did,” Abby said as she released you, “Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?”

“Uh, I was here to surprise Gibbs,” You laughed as you turned looking at your boyfriend.

“Ah, I thought I recognized that voice,” Ducky said as he walked up to the bullpen, “My dear, Y/N.” He said as he gave you a quick hug and a kiss on each cheek. “Doctor Wade said you were heading this way when I talked to her this morning.”

You shook your head as you laughed and looked back at Gibbs, “Buy ya a coffee, Marine?” You asked with a smile.

“I thought ya’d never ask.” He smiled back at you as you took his arm and headed towards the elevator.

Abby sighed with a huge smile on her face, “Aren’t they the most perfect couple you’ve ever seen?” She commented.

“Reminds me of Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” Tony said as he sat down, “Both deadly.”

[justtextmeoppa]

❝ I also like your lips... and not only that ❞

Plot: You’re a member of a SM’s group and your group covers “Forever” by Exo and you rap Chanyeol’s part, so he went to talk to you because he thinks you’re really good but then something happens.

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader

Words count: 4,1k+

Genre: Angst/fluff in the end 

Warning: Triggering contents 

For anon, I hope you like it cutie! - M. 

Gif isn’t mine, credits to the owner!

That day you didn’t want to talk to anyone. Yet you were forced to sit in the rehearsal room and collaborate with others to decide which cover to bring on stage. Your manager had given you a list of what the management had decided to offer you and it had been just that to destroy your mood that morning.  

They promised you the freedom to choose what you liked and instead it had been just an excuse, as always.  

Idol life gave a lot of it, but it took off as well. As for example the freedom to decide for anything.  

Sujin’s and Marie voices kept resonating in the room, annoying you slightly even though you were aware that that situation wasn’t even their fault. Indeed, you were grateful that they were trying to satisfy the tastes of all six, even though it was difficult indeed impossible.  

“Unnie, what do you think?”  

The delicate voice of the Maknae, the sweet and innocent Hyojin, came to your right and you turned the face slightly to look at her. She managed to snatch you a little smile, with her delicate face, her big and loveable and full of expectations eyes and the smile perfectly outlined on those heart-shaped lips.  

“That’s all right.”  

“You don’t look happy, Unnie. Something wrong? ” The concern in her voice made you smile, it was the youngest but she was always the one that cared most of all; obviously after your leader. “You look tired..”  

“I’m, I slept badly tonight..”  

“Have you been practicing late? UNNIE!!!! ”  

Hyojin’s shouting captured the attention of the other four, who in one movement turned towards you and looked exactly at you. You were embarrassed, you hated being nagged because you were always the clumsy one and causing trouble on trouble; so you would lower your head and bite your lower lip with strength, waiting for someone to tell something to you.  

“Y/N, have you slept badly..?” Seoyoung, as well as the charismatic and perfect leader, asked you and approaching and stroking your shoulder while a sense of relief pervaded you. It was clear that you wouldn’t be scolded that time.  

“Yes.. It’s just a period, that’s all Unnie.. ” You whispered, keeping your gaze down; “Even my studies doesn’t help..”  

“We decide the song, you go and throw yourself on the mat and rest a little. Okay? ”  

“Unnie, me too, (too)!” Hyojin began to ask hopping on the spot and you noticed your leader raise her eyes to heaven but eventually agree, so both of you walked away from the small group and you lay on the mat. Immediately Hyojin clung to your arm, like a little koala, and you let her do it because she could instill a sense of calm that you desperately needed.  

“Unnie?”  

“Mh, Hyojin?”  

“I love you, thank you for being my Unnie.” She murmured and you didn’t know what to say, caught by surprise by that sudden confession. You weren’t the best to express your feelings openly, your fame was to be the cold princess of the group, so you simply kissed her forehead with sweetness. All knew that for you the little gestures were more important than words and therefore they understood thanks to them that the affection that you felt for them was intense and above all sincere.  

~ ~

“We did it!!!!!”  

A grunt after that yell remembered that you were still in the rehearsal room and the Maknae next to you had started hiding her face against your arm, obviously vexed for that unexpected awakening.  

You smiled with more lightness, feeling even better after that little nap, rubbing your eyes and then laying your gaze towards the other four that had begun to scream and jump in circles. That was one of the reasons why they put you in the group because you were always soothing their behaviors when they were too excited.  

The umpteenth grunt took you to giggle, freeing your arm from Maknae’s firm grip and getting from the mat you had to regain the balance because a violent dizzy spell had almost thrown you back on the soft fabric.  

It lasted a handful of seconds and after a deep breath, you returned to normal, ignoring that little event and walking towards your friends.  

“Y/N, we have chosen the song!!!!!”  

“That is?”  

“I’ll make you listen to, we know you’ll love it,” JooMi yelled, approaching you and starting to search the song on her phone.  

The wait was almost unnerving for you as you still had the warmth of the nap and Hyojin on your skin, but when the first notes of the song resonated near your ear you totally froze, keeping your gaze fixed on a point of the wall.  

That song was your worst nightmare in those days, but you didn’t mention it to your companions because they’d tease you. The problem was you knew which part you were going to cover and this brought you back to your main problem.  

The reason you hated that song, the reason you hated the whole album it was about.  

The problem was that the voice of Park Chanyeol provoked in you the most disparate sensations and you didn’t know how to confront them. You didn’t even understand how it was possible for a simple voice to lull you until you fell asleep, but could get you angry after two seconds.  

Their voices were in perfect balance with each other, like every single time, and you would notice how Sehun had improved over time, how Minseok’s and Junmyeon vocals were well delineated in the background, every single thing you could hear, you heard it.  

First of all his voice.  

“Then??????”  

“For me it’s okay, just let’s do this special stage.” You muttered, your mood darkened in the lap of three minutes and fifty seconds, while around you the total chaos burst again. Only the leader’s gaze remained on you for more time, but you pretended a smile and returned to your place; On the mat, making a sleepy Hyojin sleeping again in a few minutes.  

That had practically become your own hell and you had no way out.  

~ ~

Maybe it was the fear of ruining that rapped part, but you had spent every free minute practicing. Self-esteem wasn’t a problem for you, you knew not to be as bad as a rapper but there stood the firm conviction of you with some positive qualities. You weren’t the best of girls when it comes to dancing, often you stumbled with words so you never did any kind of speech that lasted more than ten seconds and above all you had ranked yourself last in the classific of “who is the most beautiful among the Lullabies??  

The lights on the stage didn’t provoke you anymore the annoyance of the beginnings, after three years you were quite accustomed to them, so when you heard technician’s voice murmuring in the earbud to put in the position you were the first to obey; avoiding one of the dazzling lights to blind you.  

The biggest problem? EXO was behind the scenes, they had been informed of your special stage, and had stopped more than the time to watch it. You knew each other, the same company dictated the thread of both of your destiny, but you always tried to avoid any contact with Chanyeol. Not because he was a bad person, you were aware of how charismatic and sweet he was as a boy, but you were also aware of the effect he had on you. Effect that after all those years you still had to understand.  

It was like a bubble that swelled in your chest, which softened all your rude side, which subdue the edges of your personality. Every time the name "Chanyeol” flew in the air, your smile was accentuated and you were agreeing with the strangest ideas. Every time he smiled at you because it happened that your attempts to avoid him weren’t successful, that bubble in your chest became even bigger, your heart made a double deadly leap and you found yourself having to spray ice water on your face to start breathing normally.  

The first notes resonated in your ears and everything became lighter, you became lighter because, in spite of every negative side, performing was your dream since always.  

None of you missed the steps of the choreography that they had created exactly for you despite not being your own song; none of you missed a single note and the public screamed as they went mad while you all kept shining on stage.  

And when it was your time, you started rapping with confidence and moving to the stage by interacting the audience, making some winks at the guys present for you, moving sensually your body as they had taught you to do. The words flowed fast, clean, perfect from your mouth and the thought that Chanyeol was observing how you caressed the words that he had pronounced provoked a knot to the mouth of your stomach, which you ignored completely.  

The performance ended in the most intense applause, all six of you bowed deeply to thank the present and almost ran down the stage hearing your manager call you back in the earbud.  

You paraded the little mic from both ears and followed the others, staying a few steps back, observing how their happiness was contagious and all around them complemented and congratulating for the beauty of the performance. You weren’t the oldest one of them, but sometimes you felt as you were.  

The dressing room that you had shared with another group before the stage was now empty, so you could throw yourself on one of the small sofas next to Hyojin, which still gasps babbled on how she loved to be able to sing the part of her bias, the phantasmagoric Byun Baekhyun.  

A delicate knock at the door caught all of surprise and your manager went out to see who had been knocking. After not even two seconds the giant, with big ears that reminded those of Yoda, with a fascinated smile and his long legs entered the room, caught everyone by surprise.  

You watched him with your eyes wide open, feeling the famous bubble of emotion to start boiling inside your chest so that you should look away from him because you didn’t want him to notice your intense stare from a few moments before.  

“Sunbaenim!”  

Fortunately, no one had called him Oppa, even though you were all younger than him, and he smiled even more widely by waving to your bandmates. His gaze, however, was upon you, he hadn’t forsaken you even for a second. His staring had made you blush slightly, but you could have pointed that blush to the performance that was just ended.  

“Girls, you’ve been great on stage! Indeed, even the others have thought but they’re all shy, so I lost to stone, paper, and scissors so they sacrificed me to tell that. Although I don’t mind at all! ” He spoke so quickly that there was a second of astonished silence after, but then they all relaxed and thanked him with just as much warmth and kindness. Then he and the leader communicated with their glance, you knew that they were big friends, in reality, making you curious but being in your nature not to put your nose in the others’ business you remained silent, sitting on the sofa waiting for that torture to end.  

“Y/N?”  

You were so much on clouds that you didn’t realize that there was no one in the room or anyone you knew well enough that you could hide behind it. Just him and you, completely alone.  

“Sunbeanim.”  

“I think you must hate me if you keep avoiding me this way.” He said, embarrassed as he caressed his nape, remaining standing in the middle of the room; “Did I do something wrong in these years?”  

“God Sunbeanim, No! It’s me.. I’m introverted and shy with the boys, it’s not you. ”  

The lies weren’t your forte and the way you had replied, so quickly, biting your lower lip sinking the teeth into the soft flesh as if you wanted to tear it, had made Chanyeol understand what was going on.  

“If so, then it’s okay. Anyway, you were really amazing, you know? I think you should perform in my place with EXO. ”  

The smile that he gave you shortly after provoked a slight dizziness because it was so bright and sincere that it was impossible not to undergo the effects. His perfect teeth were so bright and that was his famous “Smile” as an idiot, who never stopped showing off to cheer up everyone’s mood.  

“Sunb–”  

“Chanyeol.” He stopped and rectified you and you nodded, smiling at him; “Chanyeol is fine, Y/N.”  

“All right.. I saw your performance before, and.. Wow, always spectacular. ”  

It was his turn to blush slightly onto his cheeks, but you find him extremely cute. At that moment you didn’t know what to say or do, that slight redness that colored his cheekbones had sent in total loop your mind. You could only think of how adorable he was while embarrassed he kept scratching the back of his head, so to break that strange spell that you were wearing you turned and recovered the bottle of water that one of the staff had given you, starting to drink to small sips.  

It wasn’t immediate, but the feeling that water had a strange taste struck you immediately but you didn’t think too much about that, maybe you had a bad taste in your mouth from before.  

A deaf thump in the hallway intrigued both of you and so you turned to the door, while you were starting to feel a strange sense of vertigo to make you stay unsteady on your legs. You classify it as fatigue until the door of the changing room burst open and the other girls; with your manager; looked at you totally shocked.  

“Y/N; Did you drink that water?? ” Your manager asked running towards you, while Chanyeol turned to look at you and on his face, you noticed the same astonishment that you were sure was painted on yours. The manager tore the bottle from your hand while you felt that even the tall guy had approached you, his hand was on your elbow and he was looking you more worried because of the reactions of the others.  

Suddenly you felt a strange feeling into your throat and you tried to say something, but the muscle closed with so much violence as to prevent you from breathing.  

“Y/N, did you drink that fucking water?”  

“Yes, manager-nim, I saw it myself.” Replied Chanyeol to your place while your eyes were wide open when the feeling into your throat became more and more intense, totally suffocating. You couldn’t breathe and your head was starting to spin more and more violently so that you cling to Chanyeol’s white shirt preventing yourself to fall.  

“Y/N!” The Maknae yelled seeing you almost falling on the ground, but Chanyeol’s strong arms were already ready to take you while fear began to transform those lines, so cheerful and relaxed until a few minutes before.  

“C-Ch.. Chan.. I ca.. I c-can’t breat–  ”  

And that attempt to make him realize that you couldn’t breathe turned into total darkness.  

~ ~

The first sensation was something soft against the tip of your fingers. The second was something equally soft that touched your cheek, tracing the line of your cheekbone down to your lips without touching them.  

It was almost annoying to melt for that delicate touch and not be able to savor it on the lips.  

Shortly after the indistinct sounds were able to make you return, at least partially, into the world of consciousness. You could perceive various voices, but you couldn’t distinguish to whom they belonged to.  

Your throat burned, almost if someone had poured some hot oil into it and let burn every single point of the flesh.  

“Can you go out?? You’re making a fuss. ”  

- Who’s bothering me? No, don’t send them away.. It’s nice to hear them.. - You thought, without being able to open your eyes or talk. Your eyelids were heavy and the touch on your face was too pleasant, delicate and almost fearful to make it stop with the mere fact of opening your eyes.  

Slowly the silence fell into the room, but strangely those caresses didn’t cease at all. Perhaps the person who was touching your cheek was the quietest and was allowed to stay, you couldn’t understand.  

“Y/N..?”  

A deep voice called your name but your mind was too foggy to connect a face to that voice, although it sounded very familiar.  

“Y/N..? God.. At least you’re alive.. We’re all worried, you know? If you open your beautiful and expressive eyes we would all be more relieved.. I especially. " 

It was such a desperate and begging request that you would find yourself using all the forces you possessed to open your eyes. And after yet another attempt your eyelids rose little, fortunately the light was dim and didn’t bother your eyes, and a figure stood before you.  

"Y/N? Fuck, you’re opening your eyes! ” Exclaimed the voice, much more enthusiastic and relaxed, while you finally managed to focus the blurry figure in front of you.  

And Chanyeol’s huge smile greeted you, making you smile slightly in return even if you wanted to tell him something. But your vocal chords didn’t cooperate and you knew that wasn’t a good sign.  

“Nono, don’t talk.. You can’t, at least not immediately. But you’re awake, I have to go tell the girls. ” He did to get up but immediately you squeezed his shirt sleeve and blocked him from leaving.  

You didn’t want to, his presence was a balm to you at that time, the only thing that prevented you from having a panic attack. Because the memories of what had happened were beginning to flow into your mind and you were afraid to stay alone. He looked at you, then lowered his gaze to your hand that clung to him and smiled again, with even more sweetness while opting for the bed instead of the chair where he was sitting before.  

“All right, I’m staying here.. Do you need anything? Water? I’ve to raise your pillow? Tell me everything. ”  

You raised an eyebrow upset of the last words that had left his mouth and only after he realized that you couldn’t speak, apologizing with a small smile that forced your heart to beat faster. It would have been perfectly bearable that accelerated beating if the machine hadn’t started to resonate at that pace, making it clear to Chanyeol that your heart had decided to dance the samba at that time. But he said nothing, rather pretended not to notice while his attention was totally concentrated on you.  

“Stupid question.. Want to know what happened..? ”  

With a little nod, you told him that yes, you wanted to know what happened because you couldn’t understand. You hadn’t been well in those days, but you were strong enough to never collapse.  

“An anti-fan has managed to evade security and.. I mean the staff guy who gave you the bottle of water, remember? He wasn’t part of the staff.. And in the water there was poison.. Fortunately, we took you to the hospital and the doctors did their job promptly. It wasn’t a lethal dose though. ” He explained with stoic voice, his jaw was hard due to the anger and his hands clenched into fist resting on his thighs.  

The information took hold in your mind, nesting and a shiver of panic crossed your back. You would have wanted to scream because someone tried to hurt you and you couldn’t understand why.  

Perhaps your gaze exuded your panic because Chanyeol’s expression softened and he immediately began to stroke your cheek, in an attempt to calm you down. 

“Hey, Y/N.. Calm down, you’re safe now. That boy’s already been arrested, okay? The girls are out, even your manager and.. I’m here. No one can hurt you. ” He murmured trying to comfort you, though it was difficult to outsource and get the pain out without the chance to speak.  

The tears began to run along your cheeks, you were no longer the strong and exuberant of the group, you couldn’t hold back. That collapse in front of Chanyeol was something unwanted, but he said nothing but simply pushed the call button for the nurse and stretched out on the bed next to you. While you were a sobbing mess he bent his long legs so he could stay in the bed, he wrapped an arm around your hips and made you turn paying attention to the drip.  

He didn’t say anything, he didn’t attempt to comfort you with words, but he simply hugged you. With firmness and sweetness, the only two things that were useless for you at that moment.  

Chanyeol was the only light in that moment of total darkness.  

~ ~

After four weeks you were finally able to go on stage. It was your first time at the Dream Concert and it was like a little dream come true.  

After four weeks of talking to a psychologist, events known only to the other girls and to your manager, you finally realized that you could do it. It wasn’t easy, you were scared of anything once you left the hospital, but nobody blamed you.  

You found out that that boy hated you without apparent reason and was simply a fan that had pushed himself too far. You weren’t the first nor the last one who had suffered similar accidents, but your armor had finally crumbled. You were fragile in front of everyone and you were scared.  

Slowly you took control of yourself, but you wondered if it was your fault too. Did you know how the fans called you and spent the nights asking you “and if it was because I can’t even open myself with my fans?” What if it was? What if?  

You started making more efforts. You talked more, even if you were embarrassed and tried to be sweeter with others. Hyojin never left your side, it was like a shadow and you started to feel a more special affection for her.  

You were reborn and you couldn’t be happier.  

You were lost in thought as you walked through the backstage hallways, observing some of the letters you had taken from the fans who waited outside to attend the concert. They were all letters full of love and you could only to smile at that sight, but you wouldn’t notice the person in front of you. The clash wasn’t violent, but you would lose balance and immediately a pair of strong and firm arms prevented you from falling on the ground.  

“I start to think that you do it on purpose to fall to the end in my arms.” A deep voice, that you could recognize everywhere, chuckled and his scent pierced your nostrils.  

By raising your gaze, your eyes lingered on his soft and full lips, moving him immediately because you felt while he was watching you. You cleaned your throat, resting your hands on his arms and managing to hear the bundles of muscles tense because of his keeping you tight.  

“You caught me Chanyeol, damn.” You answered with a smile, while he finally put you in an upright position and loosened his grip without interrupting the contact yet. He simply put a hand on your shoulder, brushed it from above the delicate fabric of the blouse you wore.  

“I knew it for a long time, my hugs are irresistible.”  

“Of course……”  

“Ready for our special stage??”  

The idea of having a duet with Chanyeol excited you for days, perhaps even for that reason you had quickly agreed to participate at the concert. You somehow wanted to thank Chanyeol for what he had done for you that day and later.  

Among you two was born a friendship and professional relationship that had practically conquered both your group and EXO so that they had been proposing that collaboration.  

“Never been more ready, Channie.” You murmured, slightly embarrassed because you used that nickname but you were sure that other people already used it.. o so you hoped.  

“I like how it sounds.”  

“What..?”  

“My nickname on your mouth..” He said without hesitation, watching you carefully and enjoyed the redness that immediately had spread on your cheeks. And that bubble, that of happiness and thoughtlessness, in your stomach began to warm your heart and dissolve those little walls that slowly you were breaking down.  

The effect that Park Chanyeol had on you was always the same, it wouldn’t have changed.  

“Y/N?”  

“Mh..?”  

“I also like your lips.. And not only that. ”  

No, the effect he had on you wouldn’t have changed … Maybe it would have worsened if anything.