#you have long hair? you’re gettin braids

[eyk-hetaart]

for your consideration: a headcanon

[suashii]

— 𝒶𝒹𝑜𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓊𝑒 ౨ৎ

boothill x f!reader. 1.2k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ suggestive ﾉ fluff ﾉ non-canon compliant ﾉ farmhand!boothill ﾉ pet names ( darlin’ + sweetheart ) ﾉ kissing :3 ﾉ touchy boothill

a/n: this is an extra to my farmhand boothill series but can be read as a standalone :)

boothill’s room is more bare than you expected it to be.

actually, you aren’t quite sure what you were expecting when you walked through the door. it looks almost identical to the guest room you grew up passing whenever you flew down the hallway—the furniture is arranged the same but the bedding on the mattress has since been changed, the familiar quilt traded in for a simple gray comforter. there are touches of the farmhand littered about the room; his guitar tucked away in the corner, hats hanging in a neat line on the wall, and hair ties strewn about just every surface they can be. it’s all very practical. no posters, no memorabilia, nothing to keep him entertained besides his instrument.

a bit boring for your taste, but you suppose it suits him.

and, despite the lack of decor and color, you have to admit that his bed is comfortable, more comfortable than it appeared at first glance. the cool air humming as it leaves the vents makes it all the more easy to sink into the mattress and snuggle under the blanket. you’re sure there’s only one thing—one person, rather—that could make this more pleasant.

as if on cue, as if he sensed you thinking about him, boothill pushes the cracked door to his bedroom open. he’s fresh out of the shower, his clothes from a long day at work replaced by a pair of red plaid boxers. the hair that hangs from his waist is weaved into a single braid save for the shorter strands that frame his face. amusement sparkles in his eyes as he tosses his towel into the hamper. “i see you’ve made yourself at home—gettin’ all cozy without me.”

“you’re the one who was holed up in the bathroom.” this being your first time stepping foot in his room, you had tried to keep yourself busy while boothill took his time winding down for the night. though, there was only so much exploring you could do, and sitting on the edge of his bed felt even more awkward than just getting in it. you’ll be sleeping here tonight, after all. “i think you spend more time in there than i do.”

he chuckles at that, rounding the bed to join you. a wave of cold air sneaks beneath the blanket as he lifts the covers, goosebumps erupting over your skin—whether they’re from the air conditioning or his proximity, you don’t know. you thought you were getting used to having him so close but it seems as though that nearness being in the bed is entirely different. uncharted territory.

“your beauty calls for no extra effort,” boothill tells you, rolling on his side so that you’re facing each other. there’s a satisfied grin pulling at his lips and a sleepiness to his eyes that softens his gaze. his tanned arm snakes its way over the little space between the two of you, hand settling on your waist, the rough pads of his fingers grazing the skin of your midriff.

your skin—your cheeks, the tips of your ears, the patch under boothill’s fingers—warms with his words, with his touch. he has a way of catching you off guard with his compliments, a natural charm to him that you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to. “alright, you flirt, you already got me in your bed. no need to lay it on thick.”

“one of these days you’ll let me dote on you.” his hand crawls up your body and to your face to cradle your cheek. his thumb brushes your cheekbone before he leans in, so close that your noses are nearly touching. cloudy gray irises hold your gaze as his thumb runs along your jaw, stopping at your chin to pull your bottom lip down. his hand drops to your neck and he dips his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. slow and intentional, warm and soft. he pulls away only to whisper against your mouth, “let me tell you how pretty you are.”

excitement buzzes throughout your body and your lips tingle, hungry for more. kissing is innocent enough, which is why you don’t stop yourself from stealing another, back arching when boothill presses his body into yours. his hand plays with the hair at the nape of your neck as you melt into him, kisses losing their innocence, deepening into something more.

boothill playfully nips your lip and you take the gesture as an opportunity to put your hand to his chest, gently pushing him away to create a bit of distance between you. your voice is breathy and a little shaky when you tell him, “you should probably go to sleep. early mornings and all…”

he seems to understand your unspoken concerns. who knows where any escalation could lead, how long any other activities may take. he grins.“i s’pose you’re right.”

in complete disregard of his agreement, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth and tries for another before you hold your hand up to his mouth, blocking his lips with your palm. his eyebrows knit together in a frown and you giggle at the feel of his pout against your hand.

“ah-ah, no more of that,” you lightheartedly scold him, pulling your hand away from his mouth only to wag a finger at him. before he can retaliate, you roll over onto your other side so that your back is facing him. a huff of a laugh that is more disbelief than humor sounds from behind you.

“you’re breakin’ my heart, darlin’.” his voice comes closer than you expect, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear. a strong arm wraps around your midsection and tugs you back into a hardened chest, earning a hushed oof from you. he nuzzles the junction of your neck and shoulder, not-so-subtly inhaling your scent. it sends a chill down your spine, makes you bite your lip to keep from moaning. he speaks against your skin. “is this allowed?”

“just…” you start, clearing your throat when the word cracks, “keep your lips to yourself.”

“can do.” boothill tucks his chin where his nose and mouth had just been. you’re surprised at how quickly he adheres to your rule but soon learn why he’s so amendable. his fingers fidget with the hem of your top, slipping under the fabric after a moment to drag up your sternum. it must be impossible for him not to feel the way your heartbeat picks up as he nears the very center of your being.

his touch here is more intimate than anywhere else his hands have laid. it feels like he is reaching for your soul, wanting to take hold of the deepest part of you. his hand doesn’t move and it makes a home right between your breasts, fingers splaying out over your chest, the heat from his palm spreading all over you.

he counts the beats of your heart in his head, a smile stretching on his hidden lips when the rhythm begins to slow and return to its normalcy. he wonders if it’s because you’re starting to drift off or because you quickly grew comfortable with this new touch he sprung on you. regardless of the reason, he lets his eyelids flutter closed.

“night, sweetheart.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated :3

[whereireid]

I have an idea for a little blurb or something! Bunny becomes entranced by all of the different features Miles has from her like his fangs, queue, and tail… and he gets confused about why she turns so red and flustered until he starts to figure it out and then he taunts her about her excitement 🤭

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

“Why you starin’ at me, bun?” Quaritch quips, his eyes glued to the comically large computer screen. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, his ears flittering irritably in the process.

"'m not starin'," You huff, hiding your flushed cheeks when Quaritch shoots you an unbelieved look.

... he's right to do so, because you were staring. how couldn't you? Your mate is huge － so big and strong, with scary, glistening fangs and long slender fingers. With hair so short and a queue so beautiful and braided － braided by you.

"You gettin' shy on me now or somethin'?" He asks, swivelling his chair towards you, his head cocked to the side slightly. "you look hot, bun. somethin' on your mind?"

Quaritch must be doing this deliberately now. He stretches, tensing his muscles as he does so, the light from his office hitting his muscles just fine. Quaritch’s lips quirk upwards into a smirk, his teeth all shiny and white as he stares over at you, a low purr vibrating throughout him.

Your thighs clench together, and he just knows.

"Oh. that's what's on your mind. you're a dirty little bunny," he whispers, voice so low it sounds like a growl. Quaritch’s hand slides between your legs, and you freeze, feeling all warm and gooey when his fingers curl around your underwear, which is wet from your arousal. "Seems like you’re really enjoyin’ what you see, huh?"

[gallonofgoldfish]

Flowers and Fireworks

Returning to business as usual on the ranch is hardly monotonous with Abby around. New faces and old trails make for good company, even if it means getting sidetracked.

Pairing: cowpoke!abby x reader (sort of)

Content: established relationship, brief cowboy ellie, fluff, poor attempts at writing southern accents (i dont even think theyre in the south), reader isn't described, sort of a part two?, author needs a cowboy partner asap, i know less about horses than before, i don't think any warnings apply

A/N: the brainrot is brainrotting. i wanted to write cowboy ellie but then got distracted by both abby and the excitement of a motor vehicle. had a very specific song stuck in my head while writing this but now icant remember what it was (something colter wall??). anyway hopefully this is a fun read even tho its not too eventful (and also was not proofread lolz). planning to have more ellie in the next part if it ever gets written bc we're going to the CLERBBBB

WC: 1508

You haven’t met her yet, but you’ve felt the tension in the air like something’s about to snap into place.

She’s the rookie. The new kid. The hotshot from some bigger, richer ranch further west with a reputation that stirs more talk than her name—whatever it might be. She’s the racer on the back of a chestnut mare in a denim jacket with rolled-up sleeves and workboots that must’ve lost their shine long before she came here.

And she’s lunging in the ring outside the stables, faded black hat crooked, casting a stubborn shadow over the leafy tattoo wrapped around her forearm. Choppy brown hair brushes her shoulders and burns a color like coffee in the dying sunlight. 

Not that you care. You’ve got places to be, and she’ll fall in with the rest of the wranglers eventually.

Gravel crunches some ways down the road behind you, but Abby doesn’t kill the ATV’s engine in time to sneak up on you completely. She comes coasting down the dusty path, toothpick hanging from the corner of her mouth as she grins sideways at you and rolls to a stop. 

“You talk to ‘er yet?” she asks, and the sun flashes over the lenses of her aviators when she tilts her hat out of the way. 

“Not yet. You?”

Abby shakes her head. “Heard she ain’t done too much talkin’ to anyone yet.”

“Uh-huh.” You plant your hands on your hips and nod. “What else’d you hear?”

“Well, what’d you hear?”

“I asked you first.”

She bites down on her bottom lip, jerking her head at you. “Get over here and I’ll tell you.”

“You’re an ass,” you tease, but hop up onto the quad’s grate so your back leans against hers. 

“What, I get one record and you think we’re some big-timers?” Abby scoffs, nudging you with her shoulder. Her braid shifts in the humid breeze. “We got work to do.”

“Yeah, yeah,” is all you mumble as the ATV purrs back to life and jolts towards the barns in the distance. “Tell me what you heard.”

“Not much,” admits Abby. “I mean, not much you don’t already know. She’s got just about the same story as the rest of us. Some ribbons under her belt.”

Dust kicks up from the tires, funneling right past the mudflaps to gather on your jeans. “She got a name?”

“Relax. I’m gettin’ there.” Abby leans to the side to shoot you a skeptical, if halfhearted, glance. “What’re you tryin’ to get under her belt, too?”

“Abby.”

She laughs, then turns her focus back to the road. “Ellie,” she finally says. “Ellie Williams.”

“Alright.” The smell of fuel mingles with the freshness of the tallgrass scrolling by on either side, either one a welcome break from the tinge of manure drifting in from the neighboring fields. 

“Just alright?”

“Well, what the hell else am I supposed to say?” you ask. “I don’t know the girl.”

“I got a good idea.” The engine cuts again. The two of you come to a stop in the shadows just outside one of the stables, before the open sliding doors that stare right out over the mountains. Abby twists to look at you head-on. “How ‘bout you just tell me when we’re good to go?”

----------

“Y’know—” Your nose crinkles as you squint against the sun, shifting in the saddle with every step the horse beneath you takes. “I thought Manny was helpin’ you with this run.”

It’s muscle memory—tacking, adjusting, swinging up into the seat. Practiced. Routine. But it never gets old. Not the cool tones of the mountains shattering the skyline on the far side of the valley, or the steady gait of the horses as they fall into step beside one another. And definitely not Abby.

“He was,” she confirms. One hand holds the reins while the other settles her sunglasses on the brim of her hat. “‘Til he got busy.”

“With?”

The corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile. “The usual.”

“Sure.” You raise a brow. “And who’s the usual this week?”

“Beats me,” says Abby with a shrug. “Long as it ain’t you, it ain’t my problem.”

“Speak for yourself. The last usual kept leavin’ him notes.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. In the wrong fuckin’ bunk.”

Another grin creeps across her lips as she looks back. Gold falls over her freckled face, flooding the scar on her cheek with light. 

“A little light readin’ never hurt nobody,” she teases. 

“You think?” You tilt your head, unable to avoid the same expression writing itself into your features. “Then next time—”

She’s drawing away, picking up pace.

“Hey, now,” you call, but she doesn’t seem to hear. You nudge your horse’s side to urge them on. Still, though, Abby’s got a good lead. She passes under the low-hanging branches of the trees bordering the path, through a set of rusted iron gates. 

Then, she flicks the reins and takes off. 

“Abby!” you shout, and with no choice left but to do the same, chase after her. 

A cloud of dust stirs up behind her, but you ride right through it, and soon, the trail falls away. 

“I thought you said you got work to do!” 

She laughs, easing up and straightening to drop back and match your pace when you slow. Tallgrass rises on either side of the makeshift path—trampled dirt and dust and the curled-up bodies of flowers unlucky enough to fall into the path of passing hooves. 

“We do,” she says. “That don’t mean we can’t take our time.”

“It’ll be dark soon, yeah?”

“Not that much time.” Abby rolls her eyes and smiles. “We’re just takin’ the scenic route.”

“You know where we’re goin’?” you check.

“Just c’mon.” Turning back to the trail ahead, she nudges her horse to a quicker gait. The unbuttoned front of her flannel flutters around her, giving way to the thin white tank top underneath. 

The ground slopes down, further into the field, as the sun fades over the jagged peaks. Through the yellowed straw and the waves of rippling green, pops of color appear where bright flowers have pushed through the soil and bloomed.

“You ever been this way before?” asks Abby.

You shake your head. “Not that I remember.”

The field is glowing, burning under dusk’s light. She’s glowing with it.

“Well, then.” She shoots you a wink. “You’re in for a treat.”

Just like that, she’s off again. 

The rough path winds down the ridges in the hill, between weeping trees with lazy, swaying branches that force you to duck. Over wooden planks laid out across the marshier parts of the lower pastures and a bridge where a dried-up river leaves a gash in the ground. Back up another slope, another patchy flower field, another grove. 

Until Abby stops to look back at you.

The Ranch sprawls over the acres of land before the two of you, windows lit in the bunkhouse and the barns and lanterns burning alongside the settled paths. The dark shapes of other hands wander like ants across the grass, while the mingling shadows of cattle fill the squares of plains just below. 

“Wait,” Abby urges. The horses paw boredly at the dirt, but, like you, remain in place as the warm summer breeze snakes around you. “Heard about this from a friend last time I was in town.”

You shoot her a curious glance.

“Don’t look at me.” She waves you away, grinning, and points towards the horizon instead. “Over there.”

The first stars are peeking through the bluish parts of the sky, just where it meets the hills. There’s a flash. A burst of red sparks. 

“Fireworks?” Even from afar, their light unfurls over your face. 

“Sure are.” Abby falls silent as the bang from the explosion crashes, muted, through the valley. “They had some leftovers from the fourth.” She sighs, then asks: “Some view, ain’t it?”

Another smattering of colorful bursts erupts over the hills. Another chorus of pops thunder over the grass. The sky changes from one color to the next, smoke gathering in thin gray wisps along the skyline, before you look away.

The lights dance in the lenses of Abby’s aviators where they’re still sitting on her hat, but don’t quite reach her eyes. She hasn’t been watching the fireworks at all; she’s been looking at you instead.

“Yeah,” you murmur, leaning over to kiss her. “Some view,” you say against her lips.

“Anyway—” Clearing her throat, she straightens, then jerks her chin towards the cattle in the field below. “Race you down there.”

“Hey—”

But she’s already gone. Racing back down the hillside, still bathed in the far-off lights.

“You’re gonna owe me a drink!” she calls, though she’s already dropped out of view.

After a last glimpse at the fireworks blooming over the ranch, you pick up the reins again and turn to follow.

The flowers and the fireworks blur, blooming and bursting against the shaded countryside. Lining the hills and lighting the sky and leading you.

Leading you right back to her.

[prettygirllsworldd]

an:this is my first drabble soo.. be nice! 😁

this does have a black reader in mind!

sfw & enjoy!

okayy, so pro!hero katsuki and pro!hero reader are in a beautiful one year relationship. you know him like that back of your hand . but one day you two are going on patrol tg but here’s the problem. your hair. you just got it done ( braids , clip ins , lace front , etc..) and it’s raining.. “oh hell no, ian getting my hair wet”

he understands why you don’t want to get your hair wet but your job still has to be done. he sighs“baby..”

“respectfully ki i’m not gettin my hair wet, so you can go without me” the smile on your face was purely out of sarcasm

long story short you went to work that day, but not without nagging, complaining, and whining about the possibility of your hair getting wet

when you guys were finished your work the sun was shining so you two decided to go for a walk, while you two were walking and holding hands. you give katsuki a kiss when suddenly something falls on your forehead . as you two break the kiss he chuckles lightheartedly waiting for you to notice. you feel like there are little things pitter pattering on your shoulders and your head, you look up and guess what it’s raining!

ki can get his hearty laugh out before you’re running towards your black mercedes g-wagon( link didn’t work 😔) unlocking it and leaping in the passenger seat. when he gets in the car he’s still laughing, flashing his pretty pearly whites at you .

“shut up ki”

an: this was so cute to me idc idc..😝

[hellotherepalpalpals]

Some People Just Need A Little Pampering (Clyde Logan x F!Reader)

Mellie always cut Clyde’s hair. That how it had been his whole life, ever since she was old enough to read her fashion magazines and wield a pair of scissors. All throughout school Clyde sported the latest in Mellie’s favorite hair styles. When he reached high school and started growing his hair out to cover his ears, Mellie still insisted on being the one to trim it. When they’d sit at home, waiting on Jimmy to come up with another cauliflower scheme, Mellie would busy herself with Clyde’s hair, practicing her braids and using her new irons to try and master the art of curling hair. 

This was why, when Clyde found himself standing in the middle of the hair salon with no Mellie in sight, he figured he would come back another time. He paused for a second, calling out a hesitant, “Mellie?”, and cringing at the way his voice broke when he raised it. Clyde waited a few seconds for a response and when he got none he took it as his sign to leave. Spinning on his heels, Clyde grabbed the handle to the door, trying to get out as quickly as he could and avoid any awkward encounters. He’d just drive home and call Mellie up when he got there, to see if she’d be around the salon tomorrow. Just as he was opening the door, he heard a voice coming from behind him. 

“‘xcuse me, sorry ‘bout that. I was in the back. I thought I heard you callin’ for Mellie, she had to run out real quick but I’m sure she’ll be back soon. In the meantime why don’ you have a seat an’ wait for her. Or if it’s somethin’ simple you need I’m sure I can handle it.”

Clyde felt himself freeze in the doorway, that voice was something magical, sweet and warm like honey. He turned around, trying with no avail to force down the blush that was creeping up his neck. He was grateful that his hair was so long, it covered his neck and his ears, both of which he was sure were very red. It was then Clyde realized that turning around wasn’t really going to help his situation. The woman that accompanied that delightful voice was lovelier than Clyde could’ve imagined. Right as he pulled himself together and was fixing to say something to this pretty little angel he found, she opened her mouth again. A blush dancing across her soft cheeks, she stuck out her hand, “My goodness, I completely forgot, my name is Y/N.” Clyde stared at her hand before raising his prosthetic up as if to show her he couldn’t really shake too well. Her smile didn’t falter for a second as she put her arm down in favor of reaching out with the other. Clyde bit back a smile as he took her hand in his and shook, choosing not to focus on the electrifying feeling of her skin on his, “Clyde. I’m Mellie’s brother.” 

Y/N’s bright E/C eyes lit up with understanding, “Ohh so you’re the famous Clyde I been hearin’ so much about.” Clyde felt the heat rising back up to his cheeks and shrugged. “Mellie talks about you and your other brother all the time, Jimmy was it? Anyway, what can I do for ya, Mr. Clyde Logan?”

Stuttering, Clyde tried to explain, “Well, my hair’s been gettin’ a bit long. Thought it might be time for a trim. Mellie’s the only one who cuts my hair though.” 

Y/N nodded, “Oh yeah, I’m sure she knows exactly how you like it then. Well, she stepped out a little while ago but I’m sure it won’t be long now if you just wanna wait for her.”

Clyde started to protest, explaining that he could come back later and didn’t want to be a bother. Laughing, Y/N gestured around the empty room, “As you can see we got a whole lot goin’ on, I’m pretty busy at the moment.” Clyde didn’t know how to respond so he stood there silently while Y/N watched. After a moment she gave his arm a light shove, “Aw c’mon Clyde I’m just teasin’. I don’t think you could ever be a bother to anyone.” She turned away from him at that, though Clyde thought he might’ve caught a blush dusting her cheeks again. “Anyway, you can take a seat wherever you like, or you can give Mellie a quick call if you want. I’ll be around so if you need anything just holler, ok?” 

Clyde nodded and took a seat in the closest chair, watching as Y/N busied herself tidying up the salon. He found he really enjoyed watching her move around the room, she had an air of comfort around her that made everything she did seem natural and right. He was so caught up in watching her that he choked a bit when she turned towards him expectantly. Laughing lightly she asked,“You mind if I put on a little music?” 

Clyde shook his head, praying that his face wasn’t too red though it felt like it was on fire. She giggled and he melted into his chair a little at the sound, “How ‘bout a little Seger, huh?”

He quickly sat back up, “How’d you know?”

She rolled her eyes, the warm smile never leaving her face, “You’re wearin’ his shirt, Clyde.” 

The blush returned to Clyde’s face full force and he knew there was no way of hiding it this time, “Right, yeah, ‘course.” He sputtered, trying to respond to her without making it clear how embarrassed he was, “Yeah, that’d be great. Unless you’re not a fan, you don’t gotta play music for me if you wanna listen to somethin’ else.”

She dismissed his concerns with a wave of her hand, “Who doesn’t like Bob Seger?”. She walked over to the stereo and fussed with it, picking up her phone and scrolling quickly through her music. Clyde heard the strumming of the opening chords to ‘You’ll Accomp’ny Me’ drift out of the speaker. Y/N started humming along, glancing back at Clyde with a small smile and a raised eyebrow, “This good?” Clyde nodded, a smile gracing his own features.

Y/N turned back to her work, shaking her hips to the music as she moved around the salon. Now, Clyde had seen his fair share of women dancing to all sorts of songs at the bar but nothing beat the sight in front of him. He felt his chest fill with something he couldn’t quite place, warmth and longing and who knows what else. He didn’t really want to go falling in love with this pretty little hairdresser but he had a feeling she wasn’t going to give him much choice. Or maybe he’d just been on his own for too long. Paying more attention to Y/N’s hands he noticed she was organizing all sorts of cremes and what looked like some clay in a jar. Before he could even think he was opening his mouth, “What you got in that jar there?”

Y/N hummed in response, glancing at Clyde with her eyebrows raised before looking back down at her hands. She picked up the jar in question, “Oh this? Mellie’s been tryna branch out lately, we’ve been offering little facials and what not.” 

Clyde felt his face contorting with confusion, “Yer puttin’ that on people’s faces? And they pay you fer that?”

Laughing, she set the jar down again and put her hands on her hips, “Yes, they do in fact pay us for this. Have you never done a face mask or nothin’?” The look on Clyde’s face must’ve been enough to answer her question, “Of course, what was I thinkin’. Even with Mellie as a sister, you don’ seem like the type to pamper yourself. You should try it sometime.” 

She turned back to her station, moving a couple of things around before she looked back at Clyde from over her shoulder, “Well c’mon now. Get over here, I’m gonna give you your first facial, on the house.” 

Clyde stayed sitting, “‘re you sure ‘bout that? Won’t Mellie want you savin’ that for real customers?”

Y/N turned back toward Clyde again with a no nonsense look in her pretty little E/C eyes, “You’re family Clyde. And if Mellie did have a problem with it, then I’ll take it out of my pay. Let me treat you Clyde, everyone could use a little pamperin’.” She pulled the cutest puppy dog eyes Clyde had ever seen and he found he couldn’t say no. With a hefty sigh, Clyde stood from his chair and walked over to where Y/N was, her arms splayed out on either side of her with her hands on the counter of her station. 

In a few long strides he was standing directly in front of her, so close he could count each of her pretty little eyelashes. Neither of them said a word, Y/N seemed to be holding her breath as she stared up into his eyes. Clyde held back a chuckle when he saw the heat rising to her face. She averted her eyes and coughed, “Right, so, just take a seat an’ I’ll do the rest, alright?”

He nodded and sat down, eyes on her the whole time. He could tell she was a flustered, and felt a tinge of pride at the knowledge that he had been the cause of such a lovely lady losing her composure. He watched as she went to adjust the volume of the music, ‘In Your Time’ sweetly playing from the speakers, and dim the lights. Without realizing it, Clyde started to sink into his seat, the low lighting, his favorite music, and a pretty girl just itching to take care of him proving to be enough to get him to relax. 

Y/N made her way back over to the station, grabbing a headband from the counter. Leaning over Clyde she slipped the fabric around his head, successfully pushing his hair out of his face. Glancing down at Clyde’s flustered face, she giggled and spoke, in a lower and more relaxing tone than she had before, “Have a little faith, Clyde. Just let yourself enjoy this.” Clyde tried his hardest to keep his face neutral and nodded, though it proved more difficult than he thought when he was eye level with Y/N’s chest and she was saying things like that in that voice. He schooled his features and took a deep breath as Y/N turned back to her station. Clyde continued watching her as she mixed a few of the substances from the jars together before facing him again. When their eyes met she laughed again, a light, breathy sound, and shook her head, “You can close your eyes now, Clyde, I’ll warn ya before I do anythin’.” 

Blushing, Clyde shut his eyes and steered his thoughts towards the music wafting over from the speakers. He heard Y/N take a few steps around him before he heard her speak again, this time from right behind him, “Alright now Clyde, I’m gonna keep it simple for ya since it’s your first time. This is a sugar scrub, it should smell like apricot mainly. Then I’ll do a mud mask, should smell like coconut.” Clyde jumped a little when he felt her fingers dancing on his face but he got used to the sensation very quickly. She gently massaged the scrub on his face and he felt like he was putty in her hands. When she had gotten around his entire face she paused, “I’m gonna quick wipe this off and then apply the mud mask, ok?” Clyde hummed in response, his eyes still closed and his body more relaxed than it had ever been, especially since he’d gotten back to the States. This time, when she slowly started wiping his face off with a warm, damp towel, he didn’t flinch. He basked in the heat of the towel and Y/N’s soft humming. He heard her move to the station, the sound of her fingers lightly tapping the counter and then she was next to him again, “Last step, this is the mud mask part. Now I’m gonna apply it for ya an�� then you can just rest until it dries, just try an’ keep a straight face, okay?”

Clyde hummed in response, keeping his eyes closed and basking in the feeling of calm, “Whatever you say sweetheart.” He opened one eye ever so slightly and got a glimpse of Y/N’s flaming cheeks as she tried to brush off the pet name. Clyde had to make a conscious effort not to smile right then. And who could blame him for being pleased that he could have that effect on such a wonderful little lady. Clyde was glad he had steeled his features when she started applying the mud. At some point she had warmed it up so it was about the same temperature as the towel. It was thick and heavy on his face, smelled like heaven too, and Y/N’s soft fingers were gentle and sweet on his skin. All too soon his face was covered. He felt the touch of Y/N’s fingers leave his face and had to stop himself from following them. 

Y/N coughed slightly, “You can open your eyes now if ya like, or you can keep relaxing that, I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Clyde nodded slightly and continued to lay with his eyes closed. 

Soon he felt his face getting tighter. He opened his eyes and looked around, spotting Y/N in the corner sweeping and moving to the music, “Uh, Y/N is it supposed to feel real tight?”

She paused her work and giggled, “Don’t you worry Clyde, that just means it’s drying. It might be ready to take off, lemme come get a look atchu.” Setting her broom down she practically skipped over to his chair, “Well looky there, you’re cracking. Means we can take it off. Don’t suppose I could get a picture first?”

Clyde looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a dried up old river in the desert or something, he had no idea why she’d want a picture of him like this. Grey mud ashy and cracking on his face, the purple hair band wrapped around his head, dark hair sticking up from him laying on it funny. He looked back over at Y/N before realizing his mistake. She’d pulled out those damn puppy eyes again, “Now don’t you go makin’ that face at me darlin’. How am I supposed ta say no to you lookin’ like that?”

Her concentration broke as a wide smile bloomed on her face and Clyde swore that sight alone would make him go blind faster than staring at the sun ever could. “Well darn it Clyde, you figured me out pretty quick.” She laughed lightly, “Does that mean I have permission then? I’m sure Mellie’d love to see this, and I certainly don’t mind havin’ pictures of people as good lookin’ as you on my phone.” 

Sputtering, Clyde couldn’t help but ask, “You think I’m good lookin’?” 

The look on Y/N’s face was one of pure confusion, “Now, what kind of question is that? Are you kiddin’ me? ‘Course I do.”

Now Clyde was thankful for the mask, regardless of how crusty he may look at least it covered the blush on his cheeks. 

“I guess someone doesn’t get told he’s handsome quite as often as he should, your ears look like they’re burnin’ up.” Y/N laughed and tucked a strand of hair behind one of Clyde’s ears as he clenched his jaw in an attempt to quell his embarrassment. “Don’t worry honey, I won’t tease you anymore. Just lemme snap a picture, hold on.”

Clyde mustered up enough self control to respond, “Now, I never said I wanted ya ta stop teasin’. But go ahead, take yer picture, not like I could say no ta ya after all you’ve done anyway.” Y/N snapped a couple of photos, showing them to Clyde for approval. He honestly couldn’t care less, he didn’t think much of having his picture taken, but she seemed so pleased that he had to let her keep them. 

Smiling down at him, Y/N thanked him and proceeded to grab another hot towel, “If you could close your eyes again Clyde, I’ll get this mud mask off of ya.” 

Eager to feel her touch again, Clyde obliged. He relished in the feeling of the soft towel breaking away the clay and letting his skin breathe. He was drawn out of his thoughts when he heard the song change and the upbeat intro to ‘Take a Chance’ started playing. He felt the last of the clay being wiped away and was about to open his eyes when he felt something soft press against his cheek. He froze, not daring to breathe, “You said you’d warn me before ya did anythin’.” He opened his eyes, a smirk growing on his face. Y/N, trying to play it cool despite the blush covering her face, shrugged, “Felt inspired by the song, what can I say? Call it a kiss for good luck, you look like you could use a little.” She turned away, busying herself with the items on her station’s counter in an attempt to move on from the conversation. Clyde stood up, taking a small step so that he was right behind her. Placing an arm on either side of her so she was pinned to her spot, he cleared his throat. She turned to him, seemingly unaware of his movement, and was startled by his proximity. The blush that already stained her cheeks flared up yet again. Clyde smiled, “That’s real sweet an’ all but I’m not quite sure a kiss on the cheek will bring me enough luck.” He glanced down at his arm and then back up at her, “I’m an awful unlucky person.” Y/N fought a smile and tilted her head up towards his, “Well, how could I say no to you when you’re lookin’ at me like that.” She lifted her hands up to meet his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. Clyde let go of the counter and brought his good hand up to cup her face, while he placed his other at the small of her back. He pulled her in closer to him and bit back a gasp when her body fell flush against his. She tangled her hands in his hair, tugging the headband off and throwing it to the side, not caring where it landed. 

When the two finally broke apart for air, Y/N chuckled, “If that’s what I get after givin’ you a facial I can’t wait to see what you’re like after a home cooked meal and a nice massage.” 

Clyde smiled, “Well, how ‘bout you come ‘round to mine tomorrow night. I’ll treat you to the home cooked meal and we can see about that massage. I’m sure you could guess I’ve never really had one of them either.”

Shaking her head, Y/N smiled softly back at him, “Well, we’re gonna have ta change that. You need some good ol’ fashioned pamperin’. And I’m more than willin’ to pamper ya, only thing I want in return is for you ta keep callin’ me those sweet little names in that voice of yours and keep kissin’ me like that.”

He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer again, using his good hand to tilt her face back up to meet his, “Darlin’, I think that can be arranged.”

[greer-morgan]

Heartbeats | Self-Para

Mid-August. (About three weeks after the breakout, and one week after Mahlon woke up.)

The knock at the door came softly. There was a sense of stillness, of calm order that existed within this room that no longer existed in the rest of the city—the rest of the hospital, even.

Greer stirred, the rustling of her medical gown and the paper liner of the table were the only sounds until her own voice cut through, “Come in.”

“Greer? Hi, I’m Dr. Mire.”

Dr. Mire was a woman at least thirty years Greer's senior, with deep lines etched into the corners of her eyes and around a kind smile. Freckles of various hues dotted her skin, some a deep shade of brown and others just barely different from the base tone of her face. Her hair was long and silver, forming a sleek braid down the center of her back. There was nothing flashy about the woman. She was put together, but unlike any other Capitolite Greer had ever seen, it was for comfort and practicality. Even the scrubs under her white coat were a pale purple. She reminded Greer of someone who’d at least once belonged to a district, and Greer trusted her more for that. There was no way this doctor was born in the Capitol, Greer thought, but didn’t ask.

This first appointment would be the longest of all of them, Greer was warned. There wouldn’t be a single inch of her unexamined by the end of it, and she wondered if it was all worth it if she wasn’t sure she was even keeping this baby yet. But then, she wasn’t sure that she wasn’t either, so here she sat.

“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mire asked as she rubbed hand sanitizer into her palms.

“Like I’m dyin’,” Greer deadpanned. “I’m gettin’ sick all day long, and if I’m not pukin’ it’s ‘cause I’m asleep… in the middle’a the day, ‘cause I haven’t made it through the day without a nap in weeks. S’like havin’ the worst flu of my life, but if the flu also made all my bras too small,” Greer lamented.

“Sounds like the first trimester to me. Soon, your pants won’t button either.” Dr. Mire laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s all normal. You’re in the worst of it now, but you should start feeling better in the next few weeks. Are you doing okay keeping liquids down? We don't want you dehydrated.”

“Yeah, liquids’re okay.”

“Good. Will baby’s dad be joining us today?” Dr. Mire asked.

Greer’s laugh was short and sharp, though she knew the doctor wasn’t in on the joke. “Not this time,” she answered.

“Okay, let’s go ahead and get started then. First thing we’re going to tackle is one large mountain of paperwork.”

Dr. Mire moved with practiced efficiency. She pulled a rolling stool to sit in front of a computer. Together they went over Greer’s medical history. She brought up everything she knew about her parents and her siblings. She told the doctor about her Games and the years after—a strange sense of self-consciousness crept over her, a sudden want to clean up the bits that somehow sounded messier here. And then, Dr. Mire asked about Mahlon.

“I… don’t really know,” Greer admitted sheepishly. “I mean, I know him,” she tacked on quickly. “I know who the father is.”

“I wouldn’t have judged you if you didn’t,” Dr. Mire assured her gently.

Greer nodded, her tongue darting over her lips to wet them before she continued. “Jus’ don’t know that much ‘bout his family history. He’s an only child. Mom’s dead. Dad up an’ disappeared. So, if he’s got issues with his blood pressure or his eyes, I ain’t got any idea,” she explained. Not that district healthcare would have caught any of that anyway.

They went on like this for a while. Dr. Mire asked a few follow-up questions that Greer did her best to answer, before she moved on. “You’re from Ten, is that right?”

“Mhmm,” Greer nodded.

“Do you spend a lot of time around livestock? Have pets?”

“Y-yeah, got chickens, horses, cats, all kinda stuff back home. Why? Is that a problem?”

“Well, yes and no. There are just a few things we’re going to add to the ‘off-limits for a little while list’.”

Greer listened as the doctor explained everything Greer couldn’t do. Smoking and drinking had been obvious, but apparently there were a whole host of foods and medications that were out. No more horseback riding. Have someone else clean the litter boxes and the chicken coop. Be cautious about hot baths. Limit caffeine. Greer suddenly felt better about all the naps she’d been taking, because it wasn’t like she could have or do anything else, apparently.

Finally, Dr. Mire stopped typing and stood, crossing the room to where Greer was seated. Her hands moved along Greer’s body—blood pressure and temperature taken, heart and lungs checked, lymph nodes pushed. “You plannin’ on leavin’ any in there?” Greer asked, somewhere around the fourth vial of blood that was drawn from her arm. Every bit of her was poked and prodded to the doctor’s satisfaction, until she was finally instructed to lay back.

“Now that we’re done having a look at you, let’s take a look at that baby, shall we?” Dr. Mire beamed. It was the most enthusiastic expression she’d offered the entire appointment, like she was finally offering Greer her reward for having endured the past hour. Greer swallowed, her throat achingly dry, as her gaze settled on the ceiling above her. This was supposed to be the good part, but Greer had to clasp her hands to keep them from shaking. She was unbearably aware that she was dreading the part anyone else would have spent all day looking forward to.

The room darkened and a screen flickered on, casting a dim glow over the doctor’s face. Greer was relieved that the screen was angled away from her. Maybe she wouldn’t have to look like a monster for fixing her gaze on a stained ceiling tile instead of prying for a glimpse at the screen. She laid there in stone silence while the doctor worked, hitting buttons and adjusting views. It seemed to go on forever before Dr. Mire spoke again.

“Would you like to see your baby, Greer?” Dr. Mire asked, tilting the screen toward her.

Greer’s heart leapt into her throat. She wanted to say no, to avoid what she wasn’t sure she was ready to deal with, but it was curiosity that won over. Greer just couldn’t help herself. Her eyes fell away from the ceiling and landed on the ultrasound—all indecipherable black and white blobs to her. Greer offered a sputtered laugh. “How the hell do you even know what you’re lookin’ at?” she asked, lifting her head to crane her neck.

“A lot of training and a lot of practice, but I promise you that’s exactly what it’s supposed to look like. Baby is exactly where they’re supposed to be and measuring right on for ten weeks. Which makes this little one due about mid-March.”  March. It seemed both incredibly far away and so impossibly close. “Great, I’ll be laborin’ with the cows,” Greer blurted, the humor a bit more biting than she intended, but Dr. Mire laughed anyway. Apparently, she couldn’t do anything without it being steeped in District Ten.

“There’s baby’s head,” Dr. Mire continued, pointing to the screen where Greer was meant to look. “And you won't feel it for a few months yet, but if you look here, these little nubs are baby’s limbs already wiggling all over.”

“Looks like Cosmo,” Greer muttered to herself with a hollow laugh, laying her head back down again. That damn teddy bear Mahlon had won for her at the ball with its big round head and stout, little limbs. 

“And this is the best part,” Dr. Mire moved to reach for a small dial. The silence in the room was quickly replaced by a steady whooshing sound, strong and fast. “That… is your baby’s heartbeat.”

The sound knocked the air from Greer’s lungs. “Magical, isn’t it?” Dr. Mire asked, handing Greer a tissue. It wasn’t until the tissue had been extended to her that Greer even realized she was crying. Hot tears were rolling from the corners of her eyes and pooling against the shells of her ears before dropping off onto the paper liner beneath her.

“What does it say ‘bout me if it’s fuckin’ terrifyin’?” She choked out the question.

Dr. Mire’s lips turned up softly. “Oh, sweetie,” she started, the words all warmth and no condescension as she muted the sound again. “The only thing it says is that you’re a human being. It is perfectly normal to be scared and overwhelmed.”

“I don’t know if I… what if I ain’t… what if I ain’t meant to be somebody’s mom?” Greer managed between sobs. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doin’. What if I can’t do this?”

Dr. Mire took Greer’s hand in her own, squeezing it lightly. “I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think I can count on one hand the amount of people who haven’t said almost that exact same thing. You want to hear a secret, Greer? Really, no one knows anything about parenting before they’re in it. It just seems that way, because you haven’t seen them here saying exactly what you’re saying to me right now,” Dr. Mire assured her. “You have options, and you have time, and I can’t tell you what the right choice is for you. But I also know there isn’t any one right way to be a good parent. I think you just have to be willing to surrender to the fear of loving someone more than you love yourself.”

Greer thought of her own parents. Two people who’d had children for vanity’s sake, and who’d never been willing to try loving anyone more than they loved themselves. Greer had never been enough for her parents, and now with painful irony, she worried she wasn’t enough for her child. But was love the obstacle for her? She’d been so sure once that it would be, but she knew now that it wasn’t. Being afraid of something wasn’t the same thing as not wanting it.

“C-can I hear the heartbeat again?” Greer asked. “Just for another minute?”

“Of course you can.”

[mandaloriandragontrainer]

“Ach, my head…”

Callum looked up from the tomes he pored over in the flickering candlelight of the tent. “You okay?”

“Yeh,” Rayla replied with a pained grunt as she plunked down beside him, fingers pressed to her temples. “My head’s just killin’ me…” She rolled her chin forward and rubbed the back of her neck. “Guess that’s what I get for sleepin’ on a rock for two years.”

“Yeah… must be…” Callum’s eyes wandered to the thick knot of hair braided tightly to the back of her head. He remembered a scene from his childhood, from the humble quarters he shared with his mother before she married the king. Sarai letting her long black hair down from a braid before snuggling him in for a story.

Tentatively, Callum reached out his hand. A flush crossed Rayla’s cheeks as he brushed his fingers through her hair, finding where the braid was pinned and working it free.

The silver tresses cascaded down over her shoulders, knocking the breath from Callum’s lungs. It was far longer than he remembered, nearing her waist and shining with moonlight. Rayla glanced down, shyly tucking a strand behind her ear.

“Oh, wow…” Callum breathed, transfixed by her, before suddenly drawing his hand back. “I mean, uh, I’m sorry, I… I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay…” Rayla blushed fiercely, bashfully moving his hand to her cheek. “It, um… it felt nice. Mop’s gettin’s quite heavy these days, I’spose.”

“It’s… it’s beautiful…” Callum murmured dreamily as he caressed her locks before moving to gently massage her sore head. “You’re beautiful…”

Rayla’s ears reddened, and she leaned forward to softly kiss his lips. Now it was the prince’s turn to blush.

“That’s not what I was… expecting.”

She giggled, stroking his hair in return. “You’re such a dummy.”

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

it’s one o clock in the morning and i’m here thinking about my boy two bit, now you gotta listen to me ramble

he’s definitely the kinda guy that giving you his jacket is a big deal. like if you two start dating none of the boys will believe that it’s serious even if you two kiss or hold hands in front of them until you rocked up one day with his jacket on

if you work at the dx oh my god this boy will not leave you alone. i can just imagine it’s a slow day and you’re working at the till so he will sit himself up on the counter and talk. he doesn’t care if a customer comes in he’s not moving. he also probably got his little sister to make one of those things people put on their desk that says like “___ CEO” or whatever and he just put “Two-Bit Mathews - worlds best companion” or something like that.

i personally love the idea that he participates in rodeos or something purely because of the thought of him in a cowboy hat and boots with one of those jackets with all the tassels OMG. (my friends say i like cowboys too much it’s a problem /lh exg)

he’s amazing at both braiding hair and first aid i’ve decided. i mean they both make sense. he’s great at braiding hair because he has to get his sister ready for school and he’s good at first aid because he’s always gettin into fights. so do you have long hair that’s getting in the way? go to two and he’ll try about a hundred styles. he finds it very relaxing but he wouldn’t tell the boys until one day pony is sitting on the floor in front of him and he starts putting little braids in his hair since it’s the longest and everyone was amazed cause he was doing fancy braids n stuff. and then the first aid side of things he’d be the kinda person that if you came to him after a fight he’d patch you up and then literally wrestle you until you lie down and watch tv with him for a bit (not literally but you get the point. OH and after a rumble he and dally are the doctors. they both patch everyone up and two makes tea and then the gang watches tv all night.

segway from that he LOVES a good cup of tea. especially if one of you is upset? a nice cup of tea after a cry at the kitchen table at 2 in the morning is the perfect pick me up in his opinion. he can’t stand herbal teas though, he just doesn’t get the appeal.

(i have more thoughts but i really need to sleep 😭)

I love these so freaking much you have no idea-

The jacket is so on point, the DX details are valid, COWBOY TWO-BIT I COULD TALK ABOUT HIM FOREVER, first aid and braiding- I love him to pieces-

(If you have more thoughts and you wanna share- I would love to hear them!)

[manikasu-nyx]

pizza pizza! | 5wirl + visi0n

i have absolutely no idea where I’m going with this but im gon have some fun with it

characters/content: 5wirl (aether, venti, xiao, kazuha, heizou), visi0n (lumine, barbara, yun jin, xinyan, female reader), sibling-like agruments, father figures diluc and childe, author had little caesars after sleeping for 6 hours straight last night and this idea has been haunting her since

You and Lumine were laughing on the way back to your hotel room, carrying a couple towels in your arms for your fellow band mates and performers, who were currently in your room. Your band, Visi0n, were on tour with 5wirl, and you had been hopping around Teyvat for your nationwide concert. You had different openers depending on the region, but the songs you played were all the same.

Although there was a room for each group, and a room your managers shared, you all usually ended up in one of the rooms belonging to one of the bands, due to the size of them, and the fact you had all been getting closer during this tour. The bond Aether and Lumine felt between each other was similar to how you all felt about each other, to put it simply.

And with bonds that close, everyone has their fair share of arguments.

“WE ARE NOT GETTING THAT. IT IS DIS-GUSTING.”

“THERE AIN’T NOTHIN’ WRONG WITH IT, PRETTY BOY. YOU’RE JUST PICKY.”

The screaming match you and Lumine had walked into definitely seemed to be a passionate one. Kazuha, Barbara, Xiao, and Venti were all sitting on a couch near the bed, and Xinyan and Aether were sitting on one bed, Heizou and Yun Jin on the other.

Aether perked up at the sound of the door opening, whipping his head toward it and pointing at his sister. “LUMINE! TELL THESE SPOILED TEENAGERS THAT THERE IS NOTHING WRONG WITH LITTLE CAESARS AND IF THEY WANT PIZZA THEY SHOULD GET OVER IT.” He yelled, Heizou and Yun Jin gasping dramatically and putting their hands over their chests like a pair of maidens.

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING SPOILED TEENAGERS? JUST BECAUSE WE DON’T WANT PLASTIC DOESN’T MEAN WE’RE SPOILED!” Yun Jin yelled back, Xinyan scoffing at her.

“No, but with the way you’ve been yellin’ you sound like a couple of kids who’ve just been told they’re gettin’ broccoli for dinner.”

“We do not!”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

As the bickering match continued between the four, you and Lumine slipped over to the other couch where the rest of your fellow performers were, watching the agreement with varying degrees of worry and amusement.

“So how long have they been arguing for?” You ask, crossing your legs before sitting on the pillow Kazuha had put on the floor for you. Xiao looked up from his phone, seemingly annoyed yet used to the screaming.

“Since you were gone. So about 15 minutes,” before looking back down at his phone. It was crazy how things escalated that fast, but yet it wasn’t surprising in the slightest. Barbara spoke up from behind the pillow that was covering her mouth.

“All I suggested was that we had pizza for dinner since everyone wanted something different, and we were trying to pick a place…” Venti spoke up from his spot sitting on the arm next to her, braiding her hair. “And as you can see, our lovely performers have their own… strong opinions on where we should eat from,” he said, a nervous smile on his face.

Kazuha gave a small smile, placing down the notebook he was scribbling down lyrics in. “Really, it’s the most lively we’ve been at night during this whole tour. Although… some food and sleep would be nice, so I hope they settle this soon,” he said, his face falling on the second sentence.

“Wanna play a game until then? I’ve got some cards,” you offered, pulling a pack out from underneath the coffee table. Lumine gave a nod, pushing herself up from her spot, dusting her hands off. “I can get the leftover candy, and we can play candy poker again,” she said, everyone on the couch murmuring some agreement as she went off to get the sweets.

After a couple rounds of your faux poker, the door to your room slammed open, everyone falling silent. Standing there was an angry, half-asleep Diluc, and a nervous Childe. You all clammed up at the sight of them, especially the angry red head.

“I just got a call from the hotel manager saying that there were noise complaints coming from this room. Anyone care to tell me what that’s about?” He asked, his voice dripping the venom of an angry parent, all your jaws locking up at his voice.

“Come on now, comrade! There’s no—“

“Shut up, Tartaglia.”

“Yes sir sorry sir.”

There were a couple more minutes of silence, before Childe signaled Barbara over, and she went over to him, standing outside the room for a bit. After a couple minutes, the two came back in. Barbara hiding her face in her pillow as she went back over, sitting next to you while you rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her.

“You were fighting over what to have for dinner? That’s not something to have a screaming match over now, is it?” Childe asked, crossing his arms in a very gentle-scolding type manner. You all shook your heads, the four main culprits shaking theirs more than the rest. Childe whispered something over to Diluc, who thought for a moment, and then spoke.

“You’re all going to order Little Caesar’s for dinner, okay? Heizou, Yun Jin, if you don’t want the pizza, you can order something else. That goes for anyone. You’ll eat this, and then go to sleep. Are there any objections?” He asked, although his tone of voice made it clear there would be no objections.

You all shook your head and he nodded, turning to head back out of the door. “Good. Now, I’m going back to sleep. If I get another call, I will be very disappointed in all of you,” he said, walking out. Childe stood there for a minute longer, before looking back at all of you, waving. “Goodnight, everyone. Be sure to not stay up too late, okay? We’ve got an early day tomorrow,” he said, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him, leaving you all on a slightly lighter note than Diluc had.

Xiao picked up his phone, pulling up the menu. “So, what does everyone want?”

And so the orders were placed, the food was delivered, and everyone had a filling meal of pizza, crazy bread, and wings that night.

Although, Aether and Xinyan didn’t miss how Heizou and Yun Jin kept sneaking slices when everyone wasn’t looking. But they kept that to themselves.

[snarky-bee]

OC Kiss Week for @heniareth

***

Climbing the wall was harder with one hand full but it was worth it to keep her loot hidden rather than go past the usual guards at the front gate of the Alienage. A self-satisfied smirk turned up one corner of her lips as Kallian threw her bag over one shoulder and then held the broken strap in her teeth to scale the rocky outer wall. Her hair blew in the wind of the warm spring day and caught the sunshine in golden glints.  Quickly, she managed to haul herself on top of the wall. From there she jumped, landing with bent knees on dusty ground. “Father was beginning to wonder if you were coming at all.” Kallian turned in surprise at the voice. Astala, of course, standing there with her nice dress on instead of work clothes for once. 

“I’m not that late am I? Was out gettin’ supplies.” She hefted her bag up in demonstration. “Like hell I’m skipping out on a birthday party, especially not for Soris.” Astala smiled in approval. Honestly, Kallian would have been more concerned about Astala’s reprimand if she missed Soris’s birthday party. Which she never intended on! She was just… caught up. In some trouble. The usual. “You have any trouble?” suddenly Astala’s voice fell into a murmur. She could read Kallian like a book clearly. “Just the pie lady having a fit screaming for guards, no biggie. No one followed me here, I promise,” she added more seriously. So overprotective sometimes. Kallian turned and rolled her eyes, already walking towards the Vhenadahl. “Come on,” she nudged Astala cheerfully with her elbow, “there’s drinks and dancing and shit to be had!”

There was indeed drinks and dancing and music. Anyone who wanted an excuse to join in the merriment came out to sit around the tree of the people and mingle with the community. After Kallian gave Soris his birthday present (a stolen pair of leather gloves), she tugged Astala to come sit with her under the tree too. “Now this is for you,” she held up a finger and pulled out from her bag… “Oh. Well okay, it kind of looks like shit, but that was before that old hag started calling every guard in the market over a damn strawberry rhubarb pie.” “I told you to be careful!” Astala protested. “Shush. Eat your pie. You told me your back was killing you from the work at the docks, and you’re out late with your other job and you never take any time to just do something for yourself.”

Astala’s lips pursed but she didn’t take much convincing once Kallian pulled out a fork. The crust was cracked and crumbled from bumping around in her bag, but the filling was sweet and delicious. Worth the risky chase through the lower markets though. Kallian tapped her foot to a jaunty jig playing and leaned back against the tree. Some other elves were lounging in the shade and picking flowers to weave into crowns. Any excuse to celebrate. When she looked back over at Astala, she was leaning against the tree with eyes closed, but a smile on her lips. Being surrounded by family - and that meant most of the alienage to her - always put her in a good mood. It was a relief to see after the long hours she had been working lately. Absently, Kallian began picking some of the flowers that sprouted at the base of the tree. Of course she was drawn to the little pink ones, but she pulled up dandelions just as readily, and little white ones too. With deft fingers she braided more and more together until it was a pretty ring. “Hey,” she flicked Astala’s shoulder playfully. “You brat,” Astala said affectionately, cracking open one eye. “It’s for you.” Kallian held up the crown before arranging it prettily on Astala’s beautiful dark curls of hair. “Isn’t this supposed to be Soris’s party?” Astala said. Her eyes were warm with a smile already as she gently patted the crown and adjusted it more firmly onto her head without messing up her hair. “What’s gotten into you? Feels like you’re buttering me up before you admit you broke something of mine.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion. Kallian held up her hands innocently. “I broke a mirror one time and you still haven’t gotten over it. Don’t be dumb,” she again went to flick Astala’s ear, but she caught Kallian’s wrist midair. “Can’t I just be nice to you without some ulterior motive?” “I don’t know, can you?” Astala teased back easily and let her wrist go. She scooted closer to Astala and rested her head on her shoulder. Strong, and way too hard working. But also warm, and safe. She turned her face and kissed the bare skin of Astala’s shoulder then murmured softly, “I just miss you sometimes. You’re barely home anymore. And if you’re the one making sure the family has enough coin, who’s doing anything for you?” Kallian’s big brown eyes looked up and widened with genuine worry and was met by Astala’s strong arm wrapped around her. “Thanks, Kallian. Stop stealing pies for fun though. They’re better when they're not squished up in your dirty bag.” “I do what I want,” she smirked confidently. “It didn’t even taste bad!” “I’m pretty sure the blonde hair in my fork was from you.” “Well I’m pretty sure when Soris puts on his new gloves, he’s going to find strawberry mush in one of them so which would you rather have?” At Astala’s incredulous look, Kallian started giggling, then snorted and laughed harder only for Astala to join in the giggle fit herself. Kallian grinned then leaned over and kissed Astala on the nose before standing up to brightly exclaim, “Oh I love this song!” She held a hand out. “Are you joining or what?”

[starjane312]

Kit Tanthalos x OC

Big Masterlist

Masterlist

Chapter 9

W: There is an Energy that flows through all living things.

E: The Blood stream of the Universe.

W: Yes. Now that Energy can neither be Created, nor destroyed, only Transformed. What we call magic is the art of transforming that energy from one form to another.

Willow gets out a Bag.

W: Ok hold out your hand.

He lets whatever is inside the bag into her hands.

E: Oh, Eckleberry Seeds.

W: Plant them.

I start braiding Kits Hair.

W: Anywhere, just here.

She does.

W: Repeat after me. Tuatha authrock mora hoatha.

E: Too aka rheock morda whoatha.

I pull my face.

W: Close. Let’s, uh, let’s try that again. Repeating the words exactly as I say them. Tuatha authrock mora hoatha.

Elora starts doing weird things with her Hands.

E: Tootha authrock mora hooatha.

W: What’s all the hands ?

E: No hands ?

W: No hands. It’s not what we need for sorcery. Tuatha authrock mora hoatha.

E: Too-ah-tha authrock-mora hoo-atha.

W: What’re you doing with your face ?

E: I’m just doing what you’re doing.

W: I don’t do it like that.

E: Kinda ...

W: Repeat the words as I say them.

I tap Kit’s shoulder. She holds up the leather band and I bind the ends of her braid. Then I kiss her cheek and she leans against me. I watch as they Start bickering.

W: Be you, be a human being. This is really quite the simple spell. Compared to what you’ll be doing. Look at these.

He shows her a page in the Book.

E: I don’t think it’s a good idea to show me that.

W: Tuatha authrock mora hoatha.

E: Tuatha authrock morda hooatha.

W: No Hoatha like you’re hoeing the garden. Hoatha

E: Hoatha

W: Hoatha

E: Hoatha

W: Hoatha

E: Twoahhtha throck moreda whoahtha

B: Kinda sounds like she’s gettin’ further away from it.

I look at Boorman and then back to Elora.

W: You’re doing really well. Honestly.

E: You don’t seem so sure.

W: Look at  my Face, do you believe me ? You’re doing really well. I want you to keep Practising saying the words in sets of three till you get it right.

E: How will I know when I got it right ?

W: Well, a little sprout about yea high 

He shows a Gap with his fingers

W: Will poke up out of the Dirt and after a few weeks practice, We’ll all be having eckleberry Jam for Breakfast.

K: Few Weeks. Well, yeah…

J: How long until she starts shooting lightning bolts out of her Fingertips ?

W: She has to master the Four Pillars of sorcery. Charms, Potions, Concentration and Divination. Before she can even begin Battle Magic.

E: Why don’t we just do Battle Magic now ? That sounds really fun.

W: No nothing fun about it 

E: Oh, Can I Use this ?

She picks up the wand from beside the Book.

W: No, give that Back.

He takes the wand from her.

E: What ?

W: This is Cherlindrea’s wand. It’s a Powerful Magical conduit you're nowhere near ready for.

B: Okay, Well, I love Eckleberry Jam, you know. On a toasted Bun, little bit of melted butter. It’s delicious. Really looking Forward to that. So, you keep up the Good Work, Elora. Yeah ? ‘Cause I’m very Excited.

W: Don’t listen to Him. I firmly believe you have the Power deep inside you. Very deep.

We all go to sleep, well, except for Elora who keeps practising. I spoon Kit and fall asleep to Elora's chanting. The next day we keep travelling until Noon. Then we Stop in the Woods. While Elora keeps Training, I take Kits Bow and go Hunting.

K: Be careful.

J: I will.

I give her a Kiss and Walk of. A bit of time passes and I find Boar tracks. I follow them and find three eating Mushrooms. I hide Behind the Tree and watch them. I take a stone and throw it against a Tree. The Boars look that way and I shoot the Smallest one in the neck. It falls to the ground. The other Two run away. I slit it’s throat so it bleeds out and start dragging it to the Camp. 

B: What’s that ?

J: A Boar.

B: That’s a lot.

J: Yeah, we’re kinda a big group. 

I sit down by a Tree, roll my sleeves up and start removing the Pelt. Boorman looks at me and pulls a face.

B: That’s disgusting.

J: You think this is disgusting ?

B: What do you even do with the Pelt ? You kept the Rabbit pelts too.

J: For one, once the Boar Pelt is completely Dried, you can use it as a blanket to sit on or for a Horse. And now don’t disturb me.

After getting the Pelt off I start gutting it. The guts go in a thick linen.

J: Can someone bring me a Pot ?

Jade puts a Pot next to me.

Ja: You need help ?

J: Nah, but thanks.

I cut away the big Fatty pieces and the good meat goes into the Pot.

J: Hey Boorman if you’re so disgusted by intestines you could peel potatoes.

Grumbling, he gets up and starts peeling some. I take my Axe and start chopping the Head off. 

J: Someone want Pig head ?

I hold up the head.

K: Oh come on Jane that's disgusting.

I laugh and throw the head to the Guts.

J: Ok, Sorry Love.

B: You’re not making fun of her but me ?

J: No. Why would I ? I respect her.

B: And not me?

J: No.

I continue and get the Legs off. The front ones are of no use, to bony, so I throw them to the guts and the Head. After the Pig is completely butchered, I take the Linen and go a bit deeper in the woods and leave it for the Wolfs. After that I start cooking it into stew. Some of the Meat I salt and hang it up to Dry. Kit looks at me.

J: What ?

K: You’re full of blood.

I look at my hands and arms.

J: Oh. Well, it happens.

K: Your Face too.

I look at her with wide eyes

J: What ?

She laughs.

K: Come.

[minaturefics]

Inclinations

Request: Hi! If it's alright for you/if you can do something with that, may I request a fic with Gimli where reader is his sister/a sisterlike person to him, she accompanies him to Rivendell and then she get a crush on Legolas (or another elf)? Wether or not it is requited is up to you

A/N: Hello! Thanks so much for waiting, sorry it took ages! It's a bit less involved and romantic, since they only just met, but I hope you enjoy it! 😊

Legolas x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.9k words

---

“Gimli,” you groused and swatted his hand away from your head. “Why are you fussing?”

“We’re meeting the elves, girlie. Can’t let them think they do braids better than us.”

You sighed and looked at Gimli in the mirror. He pulled a face and went back to tugging at your hair. You glanced out of the high windows at Rivendell. Birds chirped over the everpresent sound of rushing water and faint music. The trees rustled in the cool breeze, spilling their orange and red leaves over the roads and paths. The air was perfumed with some sweet scent, probably from the bunches of unfamiliar flowers that hung around the elven town.

Gimli added a few silver beads into the ends of your braids and smoothed your hair down. “There. Now you look like a proper dwarf.”

“But I’m not a dwarf.” You gave him a rueful smile.

“You’re as much of a dwarf as I am.” He chuckled and squeezed your shoulders. “They would not have let you come with us, here, if they did not think so.”

You pressed your lips together. From the moment Gloin found you in the Blue Mountains, half-starved and delirious with cold, Gimli had almost never left your side. When the beds had grown too small for you, he had handcrafted one to fit your size. When others murmured around the dining table, he had silenced them with a fist on the stone. His hands were always there to steady you, his witty comments always there to make you laugh. 

It seemed too heartless to tell him that you thought the only reason they allowed you to join the company was because they wanted you out of the mountains.

“Will they not think it strange? For me to be in the company of dwarves?”

“No stranger than that Ranger fellow.” He lowered his voice. “I have seen him walk with an elven maiden. And he is certainly not an elf.

Your eyes widened and he nudged your shoulder with his. “Don’t be gettin’ any ideas. If anyone wishes to court you they shall have to suffer my axe first.”

You laughed at him and shooed him out of your room. “I will meet you with the rest downstairs. You should see to the other dwarves.”

He gave you a nod and closed the door behind him. You shook your head at Gimli’s parting words. There were things to be done in Rivendell; there was no place for tender feelings among them. And even if there was, who could there possibly be who could stir your heart?

You ran your fingers down the braids he had given you. They felt more elaborate than what you usually wore and you smiled to yourself. You smoothed your tunic down over your chain mail and left your room.

Rivendell’s halls were long and winding, with high ceilings and arched doorways. The light stone and creeping plants were so different to the cosy dimness of the dwarven halls. You glanced at the sun in the sky. There was still some time left before everyone was due to meet with Elrond. You wandered down a corridor and out onto a balcony overlooking the valley.

For a moment, you thought you were alone, but something shifted in the corner of your eye and you turned. 

Someone stepped out from behind a nearby pillar, feet silent on the stone. He was tall and lithe, with soft blonde hair that fell like silk down his shoulders. His eyes drifted from the trees to you, brown eyes shifting amber in the late morning light. 

“Oh,” you breathed, blinking. “I was not aware there was someone else here. I do not mean to intrude.”

“You are not intruding, my lady,” he said. “I was merely admiring the beautiful scenery.”

He walked up to the bannister and you came up beside him. “The trees this time of year are quite a sight,” you said. “There is something so lovely about the oranges mixed with the evergreens. The trees from home are high and white, and we do not have changing seasons.”

His eyebrows rose. “You are from the Blue Mountains?”

You stiffened. The elves were not known to take kindly to dwarves. Would he treat you with the same indifference? “I came with the small company of dwarves. My… brother, Gimli, is among their number.”

“I see,” he murmured. “You are to join us then, at the council.”

“We have some news, and some questions we hoped will be answered.” You took in his fine silver robes; he did not look like a common elf. “And you, my lord?”

“I am from Mirkwood, and I am afraid that we bring ill news from our parts. But perhaps such things can be left for later.” A smile tugged at his lips and he turned back towards the valley. “I would not sully such a moment with grim tidings.”

You glanced at him, eyes wandering from the slope of his nose to the angle of his jaw. He was handsome yes, but he did not seem as distant as the elves in Rivendell. He felt as though he was more a child of the earth and sun, than that of the sky and stars. 

“Is this the first time you have encountered an elf, my lady?”

A flush rose to your cheeks. “No, but it is the first I have encountered one such as you.” His soft brown eyes met yours, eyebrow raised in a silent question. “I would not embarrass myself by attempting to explain. Though I assure you my words were not meant in offence.”

A smile spread across his face, like a beam of light breaking through a dense canopy. “You may keep your secrets, but there is one I wish to know: that of your name.”

You glanced away from him and muttered it into the wind. He repeated it and your heart stuttered it in your chest. How different it sounded, rounded out and smoothed over by his elven tongue. “And yours, my lord?”

“Legolas Greenleaf, I —”

“There you are, girlie,” Gimli called out to you and you turned. Your brother’s expression melted from surprised to thunderous. “Elf.”

Legolas’ tone turned cool and distant. “Dwarf.”

You went to Gimli’s side and placed a placating hand on his shoulder. “What is it, brother?”

“It’s time.” He turned away and jerked his head.

You followed after him, sparing one last glance behind you. Legolas was bathed in gold, and his shifting eyes were trailed on you.

--

Legolas wandered through the trees, his fingers outstretched to graze their rough barks. Moonlight danced in the small clearing, gilding the leaves and dappling the ground in its silvery light. Owls hooted in the branches and crickets chirped in the undergrowth. His thoughts drifted to you and he sighed. 

He had hoped to speak with you after the Council but it seemed as though it would not happen. You had volunteered to go along with the Fellowship but Gimli had sprung to his feat and pushed you back into your seat. Elrond had welcomed you to join, but Gimli glowered and grumbled about discussing it at a later point. 

You and Gimli did not show at dinner, and just a few moments before Legolas left for the forest, he heard raised voices coming from your chambers.

The image of you wandering out onto the balcony stirred something in him. How you looked with your curious eyes, bright in the sun, and your thin armour, strong and elegant. You were a mixture of curves and edges, the soft flowing line of your hair, the glint of your sword’s hilt at your side.

How he wished he could have had a moment more in the sun with you, could have the time to ask you of the Blue Mountains and to speak of Mirkwood.

He heard muttering behind him and he turned to find you stomping through the forest, your arms folded across your chest. You looked up, eyes wide, and stuttered a quiet hello. A smile tugged at his lips. “I take it your talk with your brother did not fare well.”

“He does not wish for me to join the Fellowship. He says it is too dangerous. But why should I not? Do I not have the right for my land just as the men do?” Your eyes blazed in the dim. 

“You do,” he said, and your shoulders deflated a fraction. “But perhaps his reluctance stems from the fact that you are his kin and not because you are a lady. There is no other from the dwarven envoy who is joining us.”

“Perhaps,” you muttered and kicked at a pile of leaves. “I will be going along, and he cannot stop me.”

Legolas’ heart lifted at your words. There would still be time to speak to and get to know you. He glanced at your frowning face. “I will not intrude on your anger if you wish, though I find a walk in the woods always helps to calm me.”

Your eyes lifted from the ground and met his. “I am the one intruding on you once again, forgive me.”

He shook his head. “There is enough space on the path for two, and I would be happy to have your company.”

He gestured with his hand and you fell in step with him. He took in everything about you. Your bright laugh when you told him about the prank you and Gimli pulled on Gloin, your sharp wit when you countered him on battle tactics. The way you looked in the moonlight, skin luminescent and scars gleaming silver. 

The path widened out into a clearing with a small fountain and a stone bench that ran around it. He sat, and you followed, and the both of you lapsed into silence. He could feel the warmth radiating from your body, could hear your slow, quiet breaths. He turned his head and looked up at the moon and the stars. 

When was the last time he sat in comfortable silence with someone? The journey to Rivendell was swift and fraught with discussions on Gollum, and the time with the high elves was filled with polite conversation and music. He glanced at you. He had gathered from Gandalf that you had grown up with the dwarves, saved from freezing to death by Gloin. Did you find him boring? The dwarves had a boisterous, colourful, warm culture. The elven ways, while full of grace and beauty, seemed washed out in comparison.

He wondered about the people you had left behind at home, just like he had. Was there someone waiting for you at home? Someone who your thoughts drifted to? It would be too forward to ask you, too delicate of a conversation for so early on in the acquaintanceship. 

“It will be a long way to Mordor, and the road will be wild and treacherous,” he muttered. “If you wish to send a message home to someone before we leave…”

“I have already said my goodbyes to my parents, and Gimli is here with me.” You sighed and leaned back a little. “What other news, the rest of the dwarves can bring back.”

His pulse leapt to his throat. There was no other, it seemed. A smile spread across his face and he looked away. 

“Shall we keep walking?” You rubbed your arms. “It is a chilly night, and I am growing cold where we sit.”

“We can return to our rooms, if you wish. The night is getting late, and we shall have to begin preparations tomorrow.” He stood and reached to unfasten the brooch at his throat. “Here, this will keep you warm on our walk back.”

You hesitated, fingers reaching and then drawing back from the fabric. “Will you not be cold?”

He chuckled and draped the cloak around your shoulders. “We elves do not suffer the heat and the cold as you humans do.”

You thanked him quietly and wrapped it closer around you. The conversation drifted to other things, the cheekiness of the hobbits, the mischievous wisdom of Bilbo, and he soon found himself standing in the corridor where your paths diverged. You shrugged the cloak off and he shook his head. 

“Keep it. Our road will turn cold and snowy soon, and the elven weave is light but warm.” Your eyebrows rose and your lips parted. “I do not doubt the craftsmanship of the dwarves, but at the very least it shall be an extra layer.”

A shy smile spread across your face and you nodded. “I thank you. I shall have to find a way to return such a gift.”

“What gifts we give, we give freely, but…” He swallowed and forced his eyes to stay fixed on you. “I shall be grateful if I could have the chance to walk with you again.”

Your smile widened and warmth filled his chest. “I would like that as well.”

You bid him goodnight, and he watched you vanish down the dim corridor, his cloak swirling around your calves.

--

“You can’t be serious.” Gimli tugged on his pack’s strap harder than he should have. “He’s an elf.”

The two of you stood on one of the balconies, preparing your gear for the journey. The late afternoon sun streamed through the trees, and the sound of the hobbits laughing drifted up from the courtyard below. You turned your attention back to your pack, rearranging Legolas’ rolled up cloak to make room for a cooking pot. “He’s one of the fellowship.”

Gimli groaned and shook his head. When you had returned to your room that night, wrapped in Legolas’ cloak, Gimli had taken one look at you and stormed out of your room. Every opportunity alone since then was a chance to question you.

The animosity between the dwarves and the elves were no secret, and you were a dwarf in all but in birth. Were you betraying your family somehow, by spending time with Legolas? There were no tender words exchanged between the both of you, but the promise of them lingered in the air. It was in the soft gazes he sent you across the dinner table, the gentleness in his voice when he spoke to you. But perhaps you were seeing into things that did not exist. Since that evening, Legolas had not sought you out.

Why would someone like him choose someone like you? Your hands were callused, your hems frayed. What could you have that would match the grace and beauty of the elves? You swallowed and gave Gimli a weak smile. “Do not fret, brother. I am sure he means nothing but friendship with our association.”

“And friendship is more than enough, do you hear me?” He elbowed you. “Now, I must see Gandalf about going through Moria. Balin would love those little hobbit troublemakers.”

He wandered down an arched corridor and left you with his overflowing pack. You laughed and began to loosen the straps. Someone cleared their throat behind you and you turned to find Legolas standing with his hands behind his back. 

“Are you nearly finished with your preparations?”

The pack’s straps fell from your hands. He was looking at you again, with that softness in his eyes. “Almost, I was just fixing my brother’s belongings. He seems to have overstuffed his bag once again.”

He glanced behind him. “And you brother, will he be returning soon?”

“I do not think so. He has gone to find Gandalf.”

“I am a little relieved then. I do not think he holds me in very high regard.” He walked closer, coming to a stop beside you, a smile playing about his lips. “And I suspect he is responsible for keeping you occupied in the evenings.”

Was Legolas looking for you all those times Gimli suggested sparring or going over the maps? Did he know Legolas was seeking you out? “If it was intentional, I was not aware.”

His brows drew into a frown. “I was afraid that I had offended you in some way that evening. I thought perhaps you were avoiding me.”

He was worried about such things? Perhaps it was not just the hope of your foolish heart that he might feel tenderly towards you. “No, no… If I had known you were searching for me I would have gone to you.”

A smile broke across his face and he laughed. “Let us hope then, that your brother will not wield his axe to keep me from your side at the campfire.”

Your heart lifted at his words. There would be chances in the future to walk by his side, to talk by his side. You grinned at him. “My brother could not stop me, no matter what he wishes. I go where my heart tells me to go.”

“And where does your heart lead you now?” His brown eyes danced with mirth.

Your lips parted, the words at the tip of your tongue. You shook your head and smiled, turning away from him. They did not need to be spoken aloud, not yet perhaps. The back of his hand grazed yours and your eyes drifted back to his eyes. By your side, you thought, and your smile widened at the knowing look in his eyes. 

[queenxxxsupreme]

More Take Than Give (Arthur Morgan x reader)

A/N: hi! sorry for my absense! i got busy with a few things and forgot how to write :)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: a bit angsty, some fluff

Summary: After Blackwater, things are only getting more strained between you and Arthur. 

***

The sound of floorboards creaking pulled you from your sleep. 

You brought your hand up to rub your eyes. You glanced over to the curtains, curious to know if it was morning yet. Calling them curtains was an overstatement. They were really just sheets you and Abigail had pinned up with some nails. 

Through a crack in the makeshift curtain, you could see a blue sky. The sun had yet to rise. 

You reached out for Arthur, hoping that by some chance you’d find his warm body next to you. But just as you expected, he was gone. It was a rarity to wake up to him still in bed with you. Usually, he was up before the sun, going on runs for Dutch or with someone on a job. 

You turned your head to look around the room. Your eyes caught  Arthur standing by the table between the two windows. He was half way dressed with just his jeans on, and in his hands he held a piece of paper. 

All you could see was his side profile, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t see the way he seemed to scowl at the paper. 

“Whatcha readin’?” You asked after watching him for a few moments. 

He turned his head to meet your gaze, offering you a soft smile as he took in your sleepy morning look. Your hair was a mess, the braid it had been in was long gone and the strap to your chemise was falling off of your shoulder. 

“Just a note.” He folded the paper up and put it back down on the table. “Dutch has plans for me and Micah.”

As Arthur moved towards the bed, you rolled over on to your back, eyes following him. He propped one knee up on the edge of the bed and placed his hands on either side of the bed by your head. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. His scruff created a pleasant scratchy burn on your skin as he kissed you. 

“Good mornin’, pumpkin.”

“Mmmhm.” You hummed softly, slipping your arms around his shoulders. You did your best to tug him down to you, but he resisted, using his knee to keep himself from collapsing on to you. 

“Easy there. We don’t need you startin’ something that’ll get both of us into trouble.”

“Can’t you just wait a few minutes?” You frowned. You let him go and watched as he took a few steps away from the bed. He placed his hands on his belt, eyes finding yours. “Just lay here with me. We aren’t usually in camp together most mornings, Arthur.”

“There’s good reason for that.” He chuckled softly, turning to go to one of the windows. He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “I’d never get outta bed if it were that way.”

You smiled. 

“What’s his plan for you and Micah?”

“Not sure. He wants me to meet up with Micah. Note said Micah will have the rest of the information.”

“I don’t want you goin’ out with Micah.” You sat up, pulling your chemise strap into place. 

“I don’t got much of a choice, pumpkin.”

You stood up from the bed and went over to where a broken mirror hung up on the wall. You raked your fingers through your hair and began to braid it back. 

“Y/N, I don’t got a choice–,”

“I know, Arthur.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

You shook your head softly. 

“Because sometimes…. Sometimes I’d like to have a day to forget.”

Arthur let out a soft sigh. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his face. 

“A day for us.”

“I know. I know.” He nodded. “I’ll see if I can figure somethin’ out. But with the Pinkertons and Dutch–,”

“I know.” You finished the braid and turned to face him. “I know.”

He looked up at you. 

“If you know, then why are you gettin’ so upset?”

“I’m allowed to be upset, Arthur.” You moved across the room to sit on the bed next to him. You tucked one leg underneath yourself and faced him. “I’m allowed to be upset that we don’t get the things we want. This is the first time in a long time that we’ve had privacy away from everyone and we haven’t even gotten time to ourselves.”

“I know.” He slipped his hand around the back of your head and pulled you closer to him so that he could kiss your head. “But we will in due time, pumpkin. Things are just…. up in the air right now.”

“I know.”

“Arthur!” Someone called from downstairs. 

“That’s Susan.” He muttered, standing to his feet. He made his way to the door so he could poke his head. “I’ll be down in just a second, Mrs. Grimshaw!”

“You better!”

Arthur closed the door and turned back to face you. You had gotten up from the bed to get a shirt for him. 

“Duty calls, Mr. Morgan.” You held the shirt open for him. 

“Hey.” He frowned, taking the shirt from you and placing it aside. “Don’t get that tone with me.”

“I don’t have a tone.”

“Yes, you do.” Arthur placed two fingers underneath your chin and tilted your head up. “You are my number one priority, you know that?”

You said nothing as you gazed up at him. When he said nothing else, you grabbed the shirt and held it open for him. 

“You best finish getting dressed. Don’t need Mrs. Grimshaw coming up here.”

He slipped one arm carefully through each sleeve, momentarily turning his back to you. But then he was facing you, blue eyes intensely staring down at you. 

You tried to look down so you could button up his shirt but he held your chin a little more firmly between his thumb and index. 

“You know that, don’t you?” His thumb ghosted over your skin. His brows drew together ever so slightly. 

“Sometimes it don’t feel like it.” You admitted softly. “They call for you. You go. They need something from you, anything from you, and you give it to them. They need you to run out for them, you’ll do it. Whether it’s across town or across the damn country, you’ll drop everything and do it. If they asked for the shirt off your back, you’d give it to them. You…. You’re too good of a man for those folks, Arthur Morgan.”

“Well, clearly I ain’t that good of a man if my lady doesn’t think she’s important to me.” He let his hand fall from you and took a step back.

“Arthur.” You reached out to take his hand. “I know I am important to you. But you don’t…. don’t think about yourself first. So that means you come to bed late and sometimes I never see you.”

“I’ve got to take care of these people, Y/N. Of the girls and John and his family–,”

“I know you do.” You murmured, nodding your head. “But who is going to take care of them if you run yourself into the ground?”

Arthur said nothing. 

You turned to go back to the bed. 

“It’s still early. I’m going to get some sleep.” Your words were quiet, but he heard you anyway. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. You’d probably get up just after he left and go down to one of the fires for coffee. But right now, you didn’t want to keep fighting with him. 

You settled onto the bed with your back to Arthur. 

He let out a breath through his nose as he buttoned up his shirt. 

He moved to kneel down by the edge of the bed, placing his hand on your arm. 

“I love you, pumpkin.” 

You felt him kiss the back of your head. 

You placed your hand over his that rested on your arm. 

“I got a bad feelin’ about whatever Dutch is plannin’. I’m not…. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on in his head, but I’ve gotta make sure the girls, Hosea, and John and his family are okay.”

“Love you too, bear.” You squeezed his fingers. “Be safe.”

He smiled softly before standing up and moving towards the door. On his way out, he picked up his hat that rested on the table.

Taglist:  @winterwolf @lauramb7 @caraqas @bluscryn @krenee1drful @zodiacaldust @nonodino @cal-lifornication @thefirelordm @sargeantsea @sokkasdarling @thecollection @mayday1284 @kashasenpai @misskrql @brooke-supernatural16 @lassiee @hocdolliday @antoinette-2131  @micahs-bird

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

[girlinlotsoffandoms]

she's her daddy's girl, her momma's world - chapter 2

time to make a little more room in our home sweet, you and me

Maya’s first 48 hours

Stella Kidd had never been so tired in her life. No blazing inferno or high-risk rescue had ever left her feeling as sore and fatigued as she felt at the moment. A dull ache had settled deep in her bones and mixed with the exhaustion that had seeped into every part of her being.

The long, hot shower she’d just taken had done wonders to relieve most of her aches and pains and despite the still lingering exhaustion, Stella felt infinitely better. She styled her hair in her signature braids and pulled on her comfiest pair of sweats and one of Kelly’s old CFD shirts. As she left the bedroom and entered the main area of the loft, the scene that awaited her melted her heart, providing enough serotonin to flush out the remaining soreness and fatigue.

There was her husband, standing in the living room with a small bundle of blankets in his arms and gently swaying back and forth. This had been their new normal for a few days but to Stella, it felt like this had always been their life. Stella smiled softly and made her way over to where her two favorite people were, thinking back to less than 48 hours ago when their lives changed forever.

“It’s a girl!”

Stella collapsed back onto the bed, sweaty and exhausted. From his spot at her side, where he’d dutifully stayed the entire time, Kelly smiled and leaned over to place a kiss on Stella’s forehead. “You did it! You’re amazing.” He whispered proudly.

Stella smiled at him, still trying to catch her breath. After nine months of pregnancy (closer to ten months because their child was as stubborn as they were and came nearly a week after the due date) and eighteen long and painful hours of labor, their baby was here. They had a daughter.

The doctor placed the wailing baby on Stella’s chest. Tears immediately filled Stella’s eyes as she gently moved her baby closer.

"We have a daughter" Stella exclaimed quietly, all memory of the pain of labor and the delivery gone as she stared through misty eyes at the screaming baby on her chest. She looked up at Kelly, who was just as teary as she was. "We have a daughter."

They had decided early in the pregnancy not to find out the sex of their baby, wanting to be surprised when he or she arrived. It was a point of contention for Sylvie, who had put herself in charge of the baby shower, but everyone had been eager to find out if baby Severide was a boy or a girl. Herrmann even had a baby pool going at Molly’s so their friends at Med and CPD could take part.

"She’s perfect," Kelly breathed as he reached out a hand to touch his daughter. He smiled as the baby grabbed a tight hold on his finger. Kelly locked eyes with Stella and the new parents shared a look of love, relief, and pure happiness. He leaned impossibly closer and gave Stella a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A small squawk from the baby in Kelly’s arms brought Stella out of her memories and back to the present. Stella’s smile grew as she made the final few steps over to where her husband and daughter were.

Kelly turned towards her as he heard her approach, a smile on his face. “How was your shower?”

“Amazing. I feel like a new person.” Stella moaned, happily. Her first shower post-baby in the hospital had done wonders for her but nothing compared to showering in her own home. Stella moved a hand up to the baby and gently ran a finger up and down her soft cheek. She smiled as the baby’s eyes opened briefly, the blue orbs locking on hers. Stella knew she wasn’t seeing anything, but it felt like a special moment all the same. “How’s she doing?”

Before Kelly could answer the baby screeched again, louder this time, and started rooting around. Kelly laughed quietly. “I think she’s very happy you’re out of the shower.”

Stella rolled her eyes playfully and expertly took the baby in her arms. She made her way to the couch and settled in, getting the baby latched on and comfortable.

Kelly just stared at them for a moment, overwhelmed with affection. Every time he thought he couldn’t love Stella more, he always did. Stella had taken to motherhood with ease, as if she was made for the role. Despite her worries and doubts that reared their ugly heads during the pregnancy, Kelly never doubted Stella, knowing full well she’d excel as a mother like she did everything else.

After a few more moments watching Stella feed their daughter, Kelly turned and made his way to the kitchen. “It’s almost lunch time,” he announced as he opened the fridge. “Are you hungry? There should be some of that lasagna my mom made still left.”

Jennifer Severide had made the trip to Chicago the week of Stella’s due date, hoping to meet her grandbaby when he or she entered the world. While in town, she channeled her nervous and excited energy into cleaning the loft, doing laundry, and cooking enough freezer meals to last a month. Unfortunately for Jennifer, the baby’s due date came and went—with no appearance from said baby, much to Stella’s chagrin—and she had to return home. Now, the baby had arrived, Jennifer was out of state on a business trip and had to meet her granddaughter over FaceTime.

Before Stella could answer, Kelly’s phone dinged from its spot on the counter. Picking it up, Kelly laughed at the message. “Well, maybe not. Casey just texted; they want to bring us lunch if you’re up for it.”

Stella nodded and Kelly replied to the message before grabbing a bottle of water for Stella and leaving the kitchen. He joined Stella on the couch and the two made small talk while the baby finished nursing.

Twenty minutes later, the baby had been burped and changed and was sleeping soundly, snuggled against her mother’s chest. Kelly and Stella were enjoying the peace and quite and were just dozing off when a quiet knock came from the door. Kelly opened it to find Matt and Sylvie, arms filed with bags of food and baby gifts.

“What’s all this?” he asked, eyeing the pink gift bags as he let them into the loft.

“Violet, Hailey, Kim and I might’ve done a little shopping after we found out baby Severide was a girl,” Sylvie said with a shrug. She placed the bags by the counter and made her way over to the couch to see the baby. Stella carefully transferred the sleeping baby into Sylvie’s arms, smiling as she hears her best friend speak in quiet baby talk to the newborn.

Kelly helped Matt get the food set out on the island and after a minute or two of distracted small talk, Kelly laughed. “Go see the baby Case.”

Matt smiled sheepishly but nodded and left the kitchen to join Sylvie on the couch.

Kelly had his back to the living room, working on getting the food ready, so he was surprised when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him from behind. He smiled and turned carefully to wrap his arms around Stella. “You didn’t have to get up; I was going to bring you a plate.”

Stella smiled sweetly at him. “It’s fine. I needed to get up and move around anyway.”

“You feeling ok?”

“It feels like I got hit by Truck, but I’m happy.” Stella answered, her smile growing bigger.

Kelly smiled and kissed Stella’s forehead. “I’ll get you some more Tylenol.”

Kelly went to get the medicine, but Stella tightened her grip. “I’m ok for right now. I just wanna stay here for a minute.”

Never able to deny Stella anything, Kelly agreed and held his wife closer, enjoying being able to hug her again without her baby bump in the way.

The new parents turned their attention to the living room, where their best friends were on the couch holding their newborn daughter. It was a sweet scene, very reminiscent of when 51 met their newest member for the first time.

A few hours had passed since baby Severide arrived in the world. The new parents had managed to get a little bit of a nap in between nurse check ins, FaceTimes with Katie and Jennifer, and their Med friends popping in to meet the new addition. Jay and Kim even stopped by, having been at Med to interview a victim. They congratulated the new parents on the baby and Jay promised to come by later with Hailey so she could meet the baby—the Halsteads were just a few months out from welcoming their own daughter and they needed all the practice and familiarity they could get.

According to the constant barrage of texts he was getting from Casey, Boden, and practically every other member of 51, it had been an unusually busy shift for early October and nonstop calls were keeping them from visiting.

They had all been begging for pictures and stats since Kelly had texted Casey at the beginning of shift announcing that the baby had arrived and everyone was safe and healthy, but the proud parents were keeping quiet, wanting to keep the baby’s name, gender, and everything else a secret.

Baby Severide had been fed, burped, changed, and was now swaddled tightly and sleeping peacefully in her daddy’s arms. Stella had put a small bow headband on the baby’s head and baby girl was ready to meet her crazy firehouse family. Just in time too as a pack of voices led to a knock on the hospital room door and a herd of firefighters and paramedics entering the room. Kelly turned away from them, hiding the baby from view and keeping the secret for a few moments longer.

Stella welcomed them in with a wide smile and accepted all the hugs cheek kisses the team freely gave. They clearly noticed Kelly was purposefully keeping his back to them, but Stella only smiled bigger every time they asked why.

Once everyone had hugged Stella and settled themselves around her hospital bed, it was time to let them in on the secret.

“All right, we’re all here,” Herrmann grumbled good naturedly. “Can you finally let us in on the secret now?”

Stella smiled and nodded. “Weighing in at a very healthy 8 pounds, 5 ounces, measuring 22 ½ inches long, born at 1:07pm…. ladies and gentlemen of Firehouse 51, please say hello to our daughter, Maya Elizabeth Severide.”

The room was filled with excited gasps and cheers as Kelly turned around and everyone got their first in-person look at baby Severide. Kelly moved closer to their friends and joined Stella on her bed, angling the sleeping baby towards the group so they could get a good look. To say they were smitten would be an understatement.

“You guys, she’s beautiful!” Sylvie gushed, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. Matt put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close.

“You wanna hold her?” Stella asked, smiling.

“Really? Me?”

Kelly nodded. “If anyone gets to hold her first, it should be her godmother.”

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. “You want me to be her godmother?”

“Of course!” Stella answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That is, if you want to be.”

Sylvie nodded ecstatically, happy tears now flowing down her face.

Kelly handed the baby to Sylvie and his little girl was instantly surrounded by her honorary aunts and uncles. “She’s perfect!”

With their baby in good hands, being loved and doted on, Kelly settled on the bed next to Stella, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. Together they watched Sylvie begrudgingly pass the baby to the next set of waiting arms.

From Matt to Mouch to Herrmann, Boden, the Squad guys, and everyone else, the baby was passed around—snuggles were given and pictures were taken. Eventually Maya made it back into the arms of her father.

A nurse entered the room to do her hourly check, effectively interrupting the fire family time. Casey took the opportunity to round everyone up to leave so the new parents could get some rest. No one objected but Sylvie did ask the nurse to take a group picture before they left.

That picture was now framed and proudly displayed in the living room. Maya couldn’t possibly recognize or understand how absolutely loved and adored she was now, but she’d never doubt it growing up.

Stella got her Tylenol and rejoined Matt and Sylvie in the living room while Kelly plated the food. She watched two of her closest friends love on her little girl and in that moment, Stella realized just how much had changed in the past 48 hours.

Nothing would ever be the same again and Stella was perfectly fine with that.

[thespoonisvictory]

this one’s for any east coast people up this late and the one person asked me to post it <3

____

The door slammed shut.

"What the fuck was that?"

Long strides, boots slamming against the marble floor, blue capes stretched out behind them.

"No, I'm serious. What the fuck just happened?"

His voice resonated throughout the high ceilings, through the halls. If there was any staff near by, they were about to witness a show.

"Technoblade. Phil." Wilbur's voice took on a pleading edge, trying desperately to catch up with the pair as they strode away. "Please. Just tell me what's going on."

But still, they remained silent, and a burst of rage shot through him. "Ok then. You're going to have to walk a hell of a lot faster if you want to outrun me.” He felt nauseous. “You better be chugging speed fucking III if you want to get away now."

His head hurt, and he dimly remembered that he had never gotten the chance to eat breakfast before being interrupted.

He'd barely had time to get dressed, actually; not five minutes after he'd finished brushing his hair had the message arrived.

"Every fucking district leader. Server admins, for God's sake." Wilbur called after them, to no avail. "A little warning would've been nice before you ruined everything I've been working towards.

"How could you possibly be so stupid, to do what you just did? Really. Tell me."

At this, Techno whirled around, pink braid slicing the air. He stopped dead in his tracks, and for the first moment in a long time, Wilbur was afraid of him. He hadn't expected his provoking to work, if he was honest. Nothing else had.

"We did what had to be done, Wilbur. It was necessary." 

Besides him, Phil had stopped too, but his back remained turned. Good.

Wilbur took a step forward, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Necessary? In what world was that necessary?"

Techno scoffed, throwing a hand out in an exaggerated gesture. "You heard the reports. Riots, Wilbur. People in the streets. It was gettin' dangerous, and we didn't want a coup on our hands."

"Unbelievable." He dragged a hand over his face. "I can't believe that the brave Technoblade allowed himself to drag an entire country down because he was afraid of some hungry citizens."

"What would you suggest we did, then? Wait until they had toppled the thrones and burnt our buildings to react? Huh?" 

Another step forward. "I don't know! But you never gave me the chance to figure it out, did you? We could've talked to the leaders, figured something out." Wilbur prayed his voice wouldn't leave him now, doing his best to keep it together.

"The same ones that would put a knife in our backs if given the chance?" Techno shot back.

Wilbur laughed, exasperated. "I was working on that! And we were getting somewhere until you decided to ruin it all."

"Please."

Techno went to turn around. He yelled after him.

"If Niki were here she'd agree with me. She'd-"

"Well Niki's not here, is she?" Techno stopped again, an eyebrow raised. "If she were, maybe you wouldn't be acting like this." He mocked.

"Oh ho ho, don't you fucking dare, Technoblade." Yet another step, and they were eye to eye, only a few feet apart. "You don't get to joke about this."

About his life, crumbling before him. Months, years even, of work, sunk into the ground. Just the thought of all the letters he'd be writing trying to salvage this mess, made his heart ache.

He wanted, to laugh, or cry maybe. This close to Techno, he was considering throwing a punch.

But as he raised his arm to do so, only half convinced he would do anything at all, another hand caught it.

Phil, glaring at Wilbur, his grip firm and nothing like the paternal touch he was so familiar with. "You know you won't win that fight, mate."

His features hardened, the blond hair Wilbur always wished he shared hanging into his face in strands. He looked every part the warrior who had commanded troops without his knowledge, but with this came the knowing that he also looked like one of his family.

None of it felt real, not when they had been laughing over drinks just last night. Had they known then? Had they prided themselves on just how easily he had fallen for their relaxed demeanor? 

"I don't particularly care at the moment, Philza." He said, hoping the full name would hurt how he wanted it to.

Seemingly, it did, because Phil released his arm, eyes widened. 

"C'mon Techno, let's go."

Before Wilbur could respond, they were walking again, turning the corner in sync.

He yelled one last time. "The people are going to want a trial!" 

But all he received was the echo of his own voice.