#you’ve seen her . you’ve seen sailor . you’re about to meet the next one as well . I AM SICK.

[waroferas]

oh my god i am honestly still in shock that we are finally posting lfrt

[wordsbyrian]

Royal Navy - Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: Royal Navy!R was childhood friends with Less and things ended sort of poorly between them, they meet again. years later.

A/N: Alright so I don't know a lot about the Royal Navy but I do know a lot about the US Navy so everything in here is a combination of research and filling in the blanks with American military knowledge.

Sometimes, life doesn’t give you everything you want.

Correction, most of the time life doesn’t give you anything you want. This explains the conversation that you’re currently having while sitting in your girlfriend’s room.

“I just don’t know why you would want to volunteer to join the army,” she says, flopping back onto her bed.

“I’m joining the Navy, Less,” you tell her for what must be the one-thousandth time. “Besides, there's not anything for you to understand. I don’t understand why you're going to school in America but I’m not trying to stop you.”

“I’m going to play football and learn,” Alessia says, “Not signing up to get myself killed.”

“Yea, well, we all can’t be the next Kelly Smith, can we?”

“Don’t get smart with me Y/N, I don’t want to argue with you,” she says, finally sitting up to look at you.

“But you do, because if you didn’t we’d be making out not having this conversation the day before I leave for Dartmouth,” you respond, getting up from your seat at her desk, “I won’t be able to use my mobile so often I’ll  write you but don’t bother answering if you’re gonna keep at it like this.”

With that, you walk out of Alessia’s room and as a result her life.

You do hear her calling after you but you know she hasn’t changed her mind so you don’t bother turning around.

That was over 5 years ago and while you did keep your promise of writing and calling her; after your first three letters received no response, you gave up.

That doesn’t mean that you stopped cheering her on, you’ve seen all her major moments, no matter how far away you were.

Over the summer, you along with practically every other sailor on your ship watched as she along with the rest of the Lionesses conquered Europe.

And now, you’re standing on the touchline at Kingsmeadow in your dress uniform for some surprise your sister planned with Chelsea.

But if you had known they scheduled it for the weekend the Blues welcome United, you probably would’ve waited a little longer to take some leave time.

Anything would be better than having Alessia attempt to burn holes in you with only her eyes as you carry the ball out for the coin toss.

You can’t tell if she recognizes you with your hair cut so short and your body so stiff but when you hear the PA ask everyone to turn their attention to you, you know that she’ll figure it out soon if she hasn’t already.

“Everyone please join us in a round of applause,” the voice says over the speakers, “as we welcome back former Chelsea youth player, Lieutenant Commander in His Majesty’s Royal Navy, Y/N Y/L/N. Thank you for your service.”

You allow yourself to smile slightly as Emma Hayes hands you a Chelsea shirt with your name on it before a stadium hand comes to lead you to your seat.

The match is good and you enjoy it as much as you can with strangers coming up to you every two minutes.

When it ends, 2-1 Chelsea, you make your back pitchside having agreed to speak with the players in the small window of time Hayes and Skinner have managed to get them to give up.

When you're led to a back room you’re shocked to see both teams there intermingled but you quickly remember that women's football has always been much more cordial than the men’s game.

After another quick introduction from the assistant who led you there, you stand alone in front of the two teams.

“Hello,” you say, standing pretty stiffly with your hands clutching your cover behind your back. “I’m not going to introduce myself again but now seems like a good time to mention that since my dad is from Newburn, I’m a Newcastle fan.”

That gets a few scattered laughs that help to break some of the tension and ease your nerves.

“I’m supposed to be talking to you about leadership, team building, and morale but I watched the game and I can definitely say that neither team needs to hear from someone whose idea of team building is sticking people in the middle of the ocean for months at a time and seeing who can get passed their problems long enough to survive,” you say plainly, not bothering to hide your disinterest for the situation. “So I figured you can just ask me questions until they let us leave.”

Murmurs of agreement go through the group so you press on, alternating between teams to ensure you’re being fair.

Most of the questions are the normal ones you get when people find out you're in the Navy. So you explain what it means to be both a Lieutenant Commander and a Surface Warfare Officer.

There are a couple of shocked faces when you tell them that you’re trained to operate all the heavy artillery on the ships and a couple of faces that fill you with more than a bit of concern because of how glee-filled they are.

When you tell them that you joined the Navy because of family tradition you can see Alessia roll her eyes and whisper something to Toone but you divert your attention to Millie Bright, who you recognize from the time you spent training with the full team.

And based on her question it seems like she recognizes you too.

“You made some appearances with the full team, why’d you choose the Navy over football,” she asks.

Laughing a little you answer her, “I played 30 minutes in the Conti Cup and was in Hayes’ office the next day quitting. That was literally the worst half hour of my life and I almost drowned in the sinking ship exercise.”

It’s then that you notice Alessia put her hand up to ask a question and considering you want nothing more than to not have to interact with her, you ignore it getting through a few others before you notice Ella with her hand up as well.

So you make the mistake of calling on her.

“Are you ever going to let Less ask a question,” she says with an unbelievable amount of sass.

“I suppose I have to now,” you say, “Crack on, Russo.”

Alessia doesn’t take this well because she glares at you and asks in the coldest voice you’ve ever heard from her, “How’s your sister?”

Never one to be outdone when it comes to being petty you respond in kind.

“She’s fine. Your family?”

It's your words that seem to spark a realization in some of the players’ faces that the two of you know each other but before any of them have a chance to say anything the same assistant from earlier comes to tell you that you’ve completed your time agreement.

For your part, you can’t get out of the building fast enough, barely stopping by the manager's office to tell Emma bye.

Getting to your car, you rush home probably breaking a few minor traffic laws in your haste.

When you do get home, you rush past your sister, Sarah, and her husband straight to your room, where you make quick work of changing into comfy clothes so that you can hide away for the foreseeable future.

You manage to go a full two days before your sister gets sick of your bullshit and barges in opening the blinds to let light into your cave of despair.

“Alright, it’s time to get up,” she says, pulling the blankets from on top of your head.

“Fuck off,” you say, turning away from her.

“I won’t," she replies, "You’ve been locked away in here, not eating, for days. All because you had to see the girl who broke your heart at 17. Grow up.”

Rolling back over you glare at her harshly but she continues speaking before you get the chance to tell her to go away again.

“Don’t make that face at me, it won’t work,” Sarah says, plainly, “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to take a shower and then when you’re done, you’ll come eat lunch before going to walk Magpie.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument and if we’re being honest, you’ve always been appropriately cautious of pissing her off. She did practically raise you after all.

So you did what she asked.

You showered, you ate with her and her goofball husband, and now you're sitting at the park with her idiot dog that is named after a bird.

“Oi, Magpie,” you call out, getting the dog’s attention, “Stop trying to eat that rock you berk, it’s bigger than you are.”

Somewhere to your left, you hear a familiar burst of laughter that has you panicking more than a little bit.

You do your best to ignore it, hoping that she would choose any of the other benches to go sit on. But that doesn’t seem to be in the cards for you as Alessia takes a seat right next to you, her dad’s dog coming to rest at her feet.

“Hey,” you say to her, not wanting to be rude before you turn your attention to the dog, “Sup Rocco, getting up there in age, aren’t you old boy?”

Alessia laughs again and you feel your heart skip a beat and a fluttering feeling begins in your stomach.

The two of you sit in relative silence for a while, the only words spoken are from you, usually a shout at your sister’s idiot dog.

You get so used to the silence that you almost miss it when she starts speaking.

“I owe you an apology for the way I treated you at the game,” Alessia begins, “It wasn’t fair of me to treat you like that, especially in front of so many people. -So, I’m sorry I did that.”

You’re not sure what you were expecting her to say but it definitely wasn’t that, so it takes you a moment before you respond.

“I can’t accept your apology,” you tell her after you finish processing. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see her shocked reaction so you continue before she can spiral too far. “Mostly because I was definitely a bigger dick than you were that day. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have acted that way, not in front of your team.”

You can see a small smile tug at her lips and you grin at her in response.

“We were both pretty big idiots, huh,” she says.

“Proper bellends,” you respond, “You’d think we would’ve done some growing up I guess not.”

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you and you let it stay for a few moments before you speak again.

“I think if we had been better at communicating, we probably would’ve been back on speaking terms at least four years ago,” you tell her seriously albeit with a joking tone.

“Are we?”

“Are we what?”

“Back on speaking terms,” Alessia clarifies.

“Obviously,” you say, “I don’t watch Magpie try to eat all the inedible things in sight with just anybody.”

The smile that had been threatening to break out on Alessia’s face is out in full force now and you can feel the fluttery sensation in your gut get stronger.

With that seemingly settled, the two of you fall into a pattern of conversation that is both familiar yet different.

In the past, most of your conversations centered around school, football, and making weekend plans. Now, it’s more of a catch up session but the vibes are the same.

It's perfect.

You don’t know how long you sit there but you’re eventually interrupted by the sound of both of your phones going off.

Your’s a call from Sarah telling you to bring her dog back and her’s a reminder from her dad about family dinner.

You stand up ready to try and catch Magpie and go when Alessia stops you.

“Y/N,” she begins, “Do you know where you’ll be stationed once your vacation ends?”

“Headed back to Dartmouth for five months to train the next batch of SWOs,” you tell her, “Then probably gonna be on shore duty for a while so might end up in command of a URNU. Depends.”

“On what?”

“Lots of things but mostly where the open postings are,” you explain.

“Two more questions but one relies on your answer to the other.”

“Shoot.”

“Will you be able to make and receive phone calls while at Dartmouth this time around,” she asks with a slight blush.

“I’ll be in charge so I can do what I want.”

“So would you be opposed to giving me your number so I can call you?”

Unable to resist teasing her a little bit, you let a coy grin spread across your face.

“Alessia Russo, are you trying to get back in my pants,” you ask her.

You watch as the blush on her deepens and she begins to sputter trying to defend herself.

You laugh a little and continue, “I mean it’s fine if you are but I’d prefer to know so that I don’t fuck it up like I did last time.”

“Y/N/N,” she says, still blushing and stuttering.

“My number is the same,” you say, taking pity on her, “so you better call me.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I am but now I’m an asshole that you’ve got to call.”

“It’d take the entire Royal Navy to stop me.”

[studiojeon]

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | -  how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :) 

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break. 

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus. 

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would. 

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time. 

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building. 

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?” 

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway” 

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack. 

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

[kthynes]

the caller you have reached (chris evans x reader)

pairing: chris evans x fem!reader

summary: chris was trying to drunkenly call the woman he loved and wanted to get back with but instead he reaches you, a shrink.

warning: swearing (sailor level), brief mentions of mental health

**IMPORTANT disclaimer: I won't be dabbling into the hard hitting topics of mental health in this short only because I'm not a certified health professional and so I can't be providing a written, unbiased, often characterized diagnosis towards any sort of mental health disorder because really, those types of sensitivities need proper care and output. With that being said, I do want to emphasize the notions of seeking help and not being afraid to seek help when needed. It's hard, but we all fight a battle and no battle is big or small or better or worse.

If my followers or readers do feel the need to privately chat with me, I'm here and I can you lend you an ear. Otherwise let's be kind and uplift another while we can. No harm in doing good and being better, that's for sure!

-end rant-

This short is dedicated to the following lovelies:

@princess-evans-addict

@mrs-djokovic

@slut-for-chris-evans

@saltyflowermakertaco

@bitchyslut99

@patzammit

@itskikiyooo

@maximeevansblog

Being a working adult is dreadful but the work you do is the most fulfilling kind of anarchy. You are a therapist, you work to heal and you work together with people who willingly reach out to you and your facility of care. There is that balance, the altering nuances in between that allows you to do what you do best. You advocate for good prosperity of mental health and accolade of teachable moments that fosters a safe space for your clients, not patients, but the people who deserve to be heard and not be medically categorized.

Your salubrious passion keeps you grounded. In your lifetime, you've seen the imperial impacts of poor mental health and it has been a detrimental drive in how you retreat and give back to a small found community.

"Okay." You exhale to yourself while leafing through another client chart. You're working off the clock, stuck in the renaissance of your homey office space while the outside world turns pitch black.

In the appropriate fields you jot down important takeaways from your last sit in session with heavy concertation and reasoning, you try to congregate a treatment plan all before you cellphone cries for you in venturous fashion.

"Hello?" You answer without checking the caller ID, tucking the device between your ear and shoulder so that way you could work and talk.

"Jenny!" The man boisterously shouts. "Jenny baby please talk to me! Let me make it up to you, let's just do this right, please. I'm fucked up here."

"I'm sorry but you have the wrong number." You infringe sounding like the posh, automated answering machine lady.

"Oh what the fuck Jenny — oh cah'mon don't do that, don't be like that baby." You re-verify a local number and it doesn't belong to anyone you know of. So you wonder who this man is but choose not to press further instead you tell him what is right from the knowing wrong.

"I'm not Jenny."

"Seriously?" He yells, forcing you to hold the phone away from your ear. "That can't be... This is—" He recites the number that is similar to yours but the last two digits are off.

"You got 42, not 53." It's an easy mistake to recall, a swipe of a drunken thumb could've mixed that up, so this time around, you're forgiving. Not that it happens often.

"Oh no. That's—" The mystery man trails, something about his voice discerns you, it's familiar but in a hindbrain way that you can't put a finger on. "Fuuuuuuuck."

"Wait hold on, hold up, is this Jenny's assistant, Nina?" You exhale sharply sometimes it takes more than one try and a side of convincing to get your point across and your passiveness was certainly to blame.

"No I'm not her assistant either."

"Then who the hell are you?" He exasperates. You make the snide mistake of telling him your name and he buffers for a bit.

"Oh. So you really aren't anyone of my concern then?"

"No." You mildly retort. "I wouldn't want to be anyways."

"Okay well I'm not sorry then because I'm here trying to reach my girlfriend and I can't get to her because I have you on the line being a smartass." With that accent of his you can tell he's a patriotic Bostonian. One of your own kind and that furloughs your need to engage in this mindless drivel, it wouldn't get you or him anywhere. At least that's what you tell yourself before shutting him down.

"Well then maybe you should learn to listen first, how about that?" You snap, dropping your pen before you note down angry nonsense into your actual work.

"Hey nowwww!" He yells as if he's trying to be Hank Kinsley.

"It's clear that you're drunk."

He brushes you off on the other end, enigmatic in what he wants you to know. "This is Chris Evans, you're talking to Chris-motherfucking-Evans, you hear?"

"I do now." You say tersely.

"Good." He huffs. "Good... Cause you know I'm in the middle of bumfuck nowhere and this is what I get. This is what I seemingly deserve, god you women I swear..."

Your face changes. You don't agree to be a lending ear but somehow Chris forces you to hear him out.

"I told her Y/N. I TOLD her that I wasn't ready to take the next step but that doesn't mean that I don't want to be with her. And now she throws it back in my face by getting with some other guy she once dated back in high school. And somehow, I'm supposed to be ok with it and move on, as she tells me. How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?"

"I, um, I don't know what to tell you." You sigh somberly.

"Of course you don't!" His Boston twang begins to nerve you as there some remitting frequency of it. Hearing him obnoxiously go off, reminds you of all your shrewd New England exes who were his exact counterpart when soused. A ludicrous memory that you relive again with time and perfect harmony.

"Listen lady all I'm saying is that I fucked up. I know I did alright? I mean it doesn't take much denominational math and the plot of Lost in Translation to get that. I get it!"

Jesus. You whisper the lords name in vain as you lean your forehead against the palm of your hand while your elbow rested on top of the desk.

"So, let me get this straight, you think yelling at a random woman will help get further?" You question a little acutely for his liking.

"I don't know but it sure as hell takes off the heat, sweetheart." Something about a man calling you sweetheart grinds your gears and now your molars.

"Okay, alright, let's talk." You begin, sitting up a bit and tearing out a blank page from your memo pad; you were doing a late night consultation, a small hash out.

"Schuwaaaaa." Chris enunciates the word sure and to much of his mayhem, he’s sprawled out on the curbside, somewhere in the nowhere land of L.A. He contented but also upset and you were simply crashing his little pity party.

"What is it that you want from Jenny?" You professionally prod. "How about we start there."

"Wooooah, what is that we're doing here?” Chris gets mildly defensive with you. “I dunno you like that. If we're gonna talk then you'll have to get through my publicist first because right now I plead the fifth.”

You exhale a deep and fulsome breath. No one troubles you like him. It's sanctimoniously unnerving.

"I'm a shrink, my job isn’t meant to incriminate my clients well-being, or anyone else’s for that matter.” You address calmly. “So, if you do require some solicited advice then we can keep this call under strict confidence. You have my word, Mr. Evans and the paperwork that will follow shortly after this call.”

Silence. There is some shocking silence which is brief before you're catapulted with disbelief and more cackles. "Holy mother fucking shit. You're kidding me?"

"I can run you by my credentials if you’d like?” You mention stiffly.

"God I’ve reached a cuckoo hotline!" Wrong. That's a horrible thing to say and you'd think a man like him would've been more sensitive about his choice of words, inebriated or not.

"Far from it."

"Tell me something, alright? How many grown, adult men come crying to you?" Chris is edging with curiosity even though his eyes are betrayingly reddened after crying into a bottle of Dewars 18. He doesn't make that known to you and you never cared to ask.

"Enough to know that they cry." You simply state.

"Huh. So this is just another Tuesday for you then.” Chris scoff, the bottle making it to his lips and then swishing back down again.

"Comes with the territory except I don't tolerate drunkenness." You motely add. "Can you keep the bottle aside for the time being? Just until we're done here."

"That's understandable and oh yeah sure, sure, I won't touch it." You can hear the glass bottle 'clink' when coming into contact with the pavement.

"Now tell me about Jenny." You softly inquire.

"What do you wanna know? How we fuck or how we met?" Chris giggles like a naughty school yard boy.

"How did you two meet?" You slam the words urgently, nearly spelling out the cause.

"Oh! Oh. We met on the job." Chris chuckles punitively.

"Okay and did you guys connect instantly or was there a slow build up?" You involuntarily took notes for any PR rep of his that wanted solid evidence that would preside this call, cover your bases and your poor ass along with it.

"Instantly. Our chemistry read was off the charts." He explains with a slight hiccup. "Sorry."

"Great. So it was more so a work relationship that later grew into something more correct?"

"Pretty much."

"So when did you start developing feelings for her?"

"Um I'd say..." Chris tucks his chin, burps and then excuses himself before continuing. "Just before we wrapped up filming. But then I think somewhere in between all that I realized that she was my kind of girl, my... better half."

"And what made you come to that realization?"

"Well for one she has this infectious laugh that would have you laughing with her, there's that sound of beauty and pureness to it. And then with that, there were all the little things she'd do for me that made me think, like damn she's the one, she's it for me and that for better or for worse, I'd need her more than she'd ever need me."

Chris gets sad and you feel for him. Your pen stops moving when you were about to prescribe him some mind memory exercises. He was human. Humans hurt. Humans make mistakes. Humans stray but they also love. That's all Chris did. He loved with all of his heart to not expect the same love in return.

"You know Chris, we don't always get the love we deserve and sometimes its sucks. Sometimes you wanna kick it back with a bottle of Dewars 18 and shake your fists in the air." Chris quietly perks up at your choice of alcohol that you didn't know he was forcefully downing. He fashions a small half smile that you don't see but hear faintly. "But there's also a time and a place and things happen, people come apart, people get together, people do people and there's that fine line of letting life run its uneven course."

"I mean you sometimes have to not be okay to be okay again and I know that from my many years of helpful healing. It gets okay, never fully better and I think that's just how it is. You acknowledge your pain, your trauma and then you go on while being mindful of that transition."

"Wow."

"Hey, um, look, I actually have to get going. But if you can, just down the rest of that bottle and get yourself home."

"Are you sure?" Chris gawks.

"I mean you were already halfway through and it's not like I can physically stop you, right? And besides this is what I'm prescribing to you. I want you to acknowledge your pain, drink away your sorrows and then smash that bottle so you can be relieved from that trauma and hurt. After that you need to fix up and start new, have a mature conversation with her, if you can and then have your feet hitting the ground again. Don't fall into the routine of heartbreak even if it becomes too hard, you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Good." You sniff and start to put things away. "I know you're a good guy Chris, from how you are on TV and in interviews, I'm amazed by how articulate you are. You have the right mindset so I have no doubts that you'll fall back in any way. But if you do, please don't hesitate to reach out, I might have to hand you off to another cohort but nonetheless it can be worked out even if it does feel like you might be sparring on your own. You'll get the help you need."

"Great, thanks." Chris responds in his conscious state of thought. He feels pathetic with himself and that doesn't have you galling over the fact, instead you let him be.

"Do you need me to order you an Uber? Cab? Call a friend for ya?" You laugh easily and Chris hears it clearly, smiling in return.

"An Uber would be nice. I'll try to share you my location."

"Sure, on me and that'd be great."

"Thanks."

"No problem... And your ride should be here in two minutes, just look out for Raul in black Elantra." You inform him after checking your phone.

"Nice."

"You have a goodnight now Chris."

"You too." The line cuts and you're given a piece of your life back. You gather your belongings, flip off the light switch and make your way home. There's some truth and some brokenness in every situation. You knew Chris was going to be OK even if he didn't consult you afterwards. For you, there was no need. He's a smart man and he proves this over a prolonged period of time when he finally finds himself back on the market and then eventually in a relationship with a faceless and very loving woman from his own hometown.

He was finally happy, making you serendipitously glad that you were the caller he had reached.

[saphirered]

Can I request the Mighty Nein funding out the reader had been hiding a kinda injury

I hope it turned out the way you wanted it! Thanks for requesting 😘

(Caleb)

Caleb is no stranger to physical injury and has embraced his squishy wizard nature. You however have covered up many injuries in the past, letting them heal on their own as you always had before you had handy clerics around to fix you up. Old habits die hard and unlucky for you, when he’s not nose deep in a book Caleb will see right through your brave face act.

Upon finding out you’re injured Caleb would simply sit you down. He’ll take it upon himself to tend to your injury despite your best efforts to convince him you’re fine and it’s just a scratch. He knows better.

Silence. You’ve never managed to get a word out of the wizard when he’s caring for your ailment. He’s completely focussed but will listen to you talk so his silence is not rooted in concentration.

Caleb won’t mention your injury to anyone. It will be your little secret but you’ll be able to catch him staring at you, and when you meet his eye he’ll give you a little half smile; a nonverbal ask to see if you’re alright.

(Beau)

Training accidents happen but hardly ever exceed bruises. A sparring match gone wrong may have ended with you getting a bo-staff to the ribs with a little too much force but you play it cool. It’ll be fine. Just some bruises. You assure Beau you’ll sleep it off and it wasn’t that bad.

Beau’s not entirely convinced and definitely pries until you come clean. Persuasion isn’t Beau’s strong suit but she makes some solid arguments, and threats that leave you forced to reveal your secret.

Upon seeing the injury Beau will curse like a sailor, telling you you should have told her. Best not to mention the trouble breathing… Wether you want to or not she’ll go get the clerics to fix you up despite any and all protests.

Beau will keep grilling you for weeks, bringing your injury up as ammo in any argument she needs won and will keep a close eye out. She’ll refuse to spar with you but we all know Beau likes her training and with you being one of the very few actually able to keep up (sorry Fjord) she’ll give in and beg you to train with her again, this time more mindful of her actions.

(Fjord)

Fjord may play cool but he tends to be a worrywart and when he already has enough on his plate you be mindful not to stress him out by facing him with anything else. That includes you getting a pretty heavy hit from an enemy in combat.

Back on the ship you resign yourself to the lower deck and cargo hold duties as to stay clear of Fjord’s direct line of sight. You’d take the crows nest but an injured leg will do you no good climbing.

Bad weather and a leg injury at sea do not mix well and you, being slammed into the side of the ship unable to get back up sends Fjord in overdrive. He’ll help you below deck to a safe spot and prepare for basic care until one of the clerics can come fix you.

Fjord’s seen enough injuries; others’ and his own and knows well enough what you got didn’t come from your little tumble. He’ll be extra tentative but scold you for not saying anything and telling you you should tell him in the future.

Regardless of the clerics’ opinions he puts you on bedrest for the next few days until he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. Don’t count on being allowed to go up to the crow’s nest for a while though.

(Veth)

Having taken a tumble down the stairs while reading a book and conversing with Caleb (who you had to swear to secrecy) you deliberately stayed clear of Veth unless you had any sort of object to lean on to support yourself.

It’s more out of embarrassment you’re hiding this one even though your ankle hurts like a bitch. Every time you, Caleb and Veth are in the same room you’re sending the wizard death glares when he holds back a comment or laugh at your desperate attempts to keep this a secret.

Veth’s a mom and if there’s one thing moms are good at it’s figuring out when someone’s hurt. The moment your facade falls through, she’ll go into overdrive, pushing you to lay down on a couch or similar soft surface area, rushing to get you extra pillows and the likes.

Be prepared to have Veth hoover over you until you’re in the clear. She’ll do whatever she can to make you comfortable and brings you some trinkets to pass the time. Maybe don’t ask where she got them because they were definitely not in her previous possession.

(Jester)

It was gonna be an epic move! You’d jump down, weapon at the ready to stab down into the creature; death from above! Didn’t go as planned as you got swatted out of the air by the creature before you could strike down.

Luckily no one saw. After the battle you just claimed the plan fell through and you had to improvise. Meaning, you gritted through the pain of being rag-dolled into a cavern wall, got back up through the pain and back to battle.

If only Jester hadn’t asked you to help harvest the monster parts so you could sell them. You could barely carry your weapon, swinging it; different story. But Jester is persistent and you couldn’t just refuse the cute blue tiefling so you obliged gritting through the pain hoping no one would notice you taking a quick breather every so often.

Jester did notice and came to inspect your work, with a tap on your shoulder you feel a radiant warmth spread through you, making breathing and moving in general a lot easier. A thanks is in order and you’re sort of glad Jester keeps this on the down-low.

“Next time just tell me, okay?” Jester makes you pinky promise and you know that’s binding so you better keep your promise.

(Caduceus)

There’s a reason why you leave the cooking to Caduceus. You’ll happily cut some vegetables but try to stay away from anything else throughout the process of preparing food. When Caduceus asked you to watch the stove and add some spices to the food as he rushed to the pantry to get some more ingredients you were worried…

What should you do? Caduceus didn’t tell you how much to add of anything. Maybe you can just sniff the spices? Yeah, that sounds right. Opening the small jars and pouches one by one go through. You add a little of the fragrant ones and a bit more of the neutral spices.

One sniff of a red flaky powder sends you into a coughing fit, your airways burning like a blazing fire. Water doesn’t help. If anything it makes it worse. You get your breathing and cough under control but you do not trust your voice and scalding throat so when the firbolg returns you keep quiet.

No responses from you are a bit odd and what were you thinking you could keep anything from this man. Caduceus calls you out on your behaviour asking questions that need words and not nods, shakes, shrugs or the likes.

Upon you trying to talk he immediately knows what happened. Putting on a quick brew, in a short time you’re presented some tea to remedy your burning throat. It may not be your worst injury ever but it surely is an uncomfortable one. You gain a new appreciation for the dead people tea.

(Yasha)

You felt like you couldn’t do anything but try to hide the bleeding gash on your side, luckily covered by your clothing. Yasha had already gone through enough, last you needed her to deal with is the knowledge she injured you severely when under the control of someone else.

Back to normal you head into the next fight. For some reason you’re faltering and making mistakes you otherwise wouldn’t. Yasha notices and will be at your side in an instance to defend you but a single enemy blow sends you unconscious.

You can confidently say that opening your eyes to a raging barbarian pouring the contents of a healing potion down your throat is one of the most terrifying and admirable moment’s you’ve witnessed in your life.

Yasha asks when you got the cut since your bloodstained clothes don’t 100% add up. Tempted to come up with an excuse Yasha has you figured out. Prepare for endless apologies and a guardian angel watching over your shoulder threatening anyone with even remotely malicious intent into thinking twice about their actions.

(Mollymauk)

Molly will pretend he hasn’t noticed you’re hiding anything when he’s caught on you are being secretive. You’re entitled to your secrets.When he finds out you’re injured that’s no different. Unless it’s something that could be the death of you he’ll play along. You’re stubborn so you get to feel the consequences of your stubbornness.

He’d ask you to help him with this new routine he’s been working on or push you to spar with him. He’d make sure you have to pay extra mind as to not make it hurt as bad as your injury does when resting because that’s when the severity of your injury becomes clear to him.

Molly would deliberately make everyday tasks a little harder. You’re doing dishes? could you carry the heavy tub of water? Setting up camp? Keep pressure on this or hammer that into the ground. Will put your things out of your reach where you’d have to climb or jump to get them.

He’ll keep these shenanigans going until either you come clean about your injury or he really gets worried to the point he’ll have to step in for your own wellbeing. The former usually occurs leaving him smug and willing to carry you claiming to be your daring saviour.

Depending on the severity of the injury he’ll be a pretty decent caretaker spending time with you and assisting you whenever you need it. When it’s not as bad anymore he’ll be teasing you as much as he can. He won’t make you forget your stubbornness and pride gets in your way of admitting defeat and we all know he loves winning the game.

[thefanficmonster]

A Little Childish

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF

Summary: Corpse and Y/N go to visit Y/N’s parents for New Year’s. Corpse was promised good food, good company and A LOT of snow. Needless to say, the place didn’t disappoint - quite the contrary actually, it exceeded any and all expectations he had.

Requested by @waterflowersposts Hi there! Sorry for how long it took for this fic to be written :( I hope the final result makes up for the long wait! I also thought it would be appropriate to post it during the holiday season, so I hope you don’t mind. Hope you enjoy the read and I’m looking forward to hearing your feedback and any more requests you may have. Stay safe! Happy Holidays! Love, Vy ❤

I watch as Corpse is basically floating from one room into another in our shared apartment as he’s throwing random articles of clothing in his open suitcase. I have already packed my bags, knowing full well what the appropriate attire is for where we’re going.

I look away from my laptop when Corpse comes in for maybe the sixtieth time today, this time carrying a white tee causing me to chuckle. “Corpse, I know it’s very trademark for you, but the only way you’ll be wearing that when we get there is under a sweater for some extra warmth. I’m not looking forward to having my boyfriend freeze in my parent’s house.”

He smiles, looking at the shirt in his hands, and shakes his head, “Fine, guess I’ll do without it for a week or two.” He throws it in our room, not even bothering to check where it’ll land before he comes to sit down next to me on the couch, “Keep in mind, you have set my expectations pretty high up there. If I am not waist deep in snow the second we step off the plane, I’ll be disappointed.”

I give him a side glance, a smirk playing on my lips. Must say, taking on challenges you know you’re gonna win is the ultimate high-and-mighty feeling. “Honey, you’ve got a big snowstorm coming.”

                                                               *  *  *

All throughout our trip - I’m talking the drive to the airport AND the flight over - I have kept my eyes glued to Corpse, observing as his eyes sparkled more and more with each foot we got closer to our destination. He has told me the most snow he has seen was less than an inch and I immediately felt it was my duty to change that by introducing him to the magic of Canada - my home. My parents own a getaway cottage in the mountains of Calgary where we used to go every holiday season. My earliest memory is playing in the thigh-deep snow with my older sister and crying whenever our parents had to drag us back inside. 

The West Coast of the US was a rather odd surrounding for me, having grown up surrounded by snowy mountains, experiencing Christmas with no snow whatsoever was a true let down and underwhelming feeling. Since Corpse and I started dating about a month after Christmas time last year this will be our first time spending the holidays together and Corpse was more than enthusiastic to visit Canada when I mentioned how much I enjoyed my winters there. We couldn’t go for Christmas, but we’ll be there for New Year’s Eve and the first two weeks of 2021 and I am really excited. I have been dying to see my family that has actually expanded since the last time I visited - my sister has had yet another baby, making her and her husband parents of three very energetic toddlers. The six year old twins - Ashley and Alex - and the three year old Andrew. Or, as I like to call them: The 3 As.

I have warned Corpse about them like seven times despite the fact that he’s already familiar with their energy, convincing him that if that’s more than he can handle we’ve still got time to cancel the trip. He didn’t bat an eye though, each time telling me not to worry and focus my attention on reliving the moments I’ve missed so greatly instead of making sure he was having a good time.

“If you’re there...“ he said, “I’ll sure as hell be having a good time.“

One step out of the airport and he’s already mesmerized. His eyes are shiny reflecting the glow of the snow all around. It’s gonna be funny to see his reaction when he witnesses the real deal - the snow in the mountains. This compared to that is a pathetic excuse.

“I know it’s not waist-high, but that’s because they shovel it and melt it.“ He is looking around, not paying much mind to my words. The utter amazement and disbelief on his face just makes me want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him. He’s simply adorable! I see fragments of the child in him swimming up to the surface in the form of temptation - temptation every kid feels when they see snow: Dive in and lose track of time. “Wait till we get to the cottage.“

This manages to catch his attention, “You weren’t kidding.“

I laugh at my precious kiddy boyfriend. “Whoa there, Corpsie. If your mind is already blown, I’m worried about how you’ll react to the real deal.“ 

I have a feeling I know exactly how he’ll react cause I react similarly - I set the child in me free. After all, no parent can tell you to stop playing and go inside when you are a 23-year-old.

                                                             *  *  *

Walking up to the cottage from the cable-car station has to be the first time I’ve breathed with my lungs’ full capacity in the last five years. The sharp cold air screams ‘home’ to me like nothing else ever did. I am still surprised as to how my sister prefers summer. My family jokes I’m a winter wolf in disguise and I think they’re right. I do like to roll around in the snow much like a wolf. No judgement! Having a few extra years added to my age doesn’t change everything.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.“ If I could take a shot every time Corpse has repeated this phrase I’d be dead due to liver failure. He is absolutely stunned. And I’m pretty sure he hasn’t blinked at all. Who am I to talk - I haven’t either. These mountains keep getting prettier and prettier, I swear. Taking my eyes off them would be a crime.

“Told you. I wish we made a bet, I could’ve made some easy money.“ I tease him, gently bumping my elbow against his as we walk up the trail.

“I’m glad I didn’t propose such a thing. That would’ve been fucking stupid of me.“ Judging by the tone of his voice, he is not really present in this conversation, so I decide not to let it go on any longer.

Not that I could’ve done differently, seeing as how barely three seconds latter I see three smiling faces coming at me at max speed.

Oh boy.

“Auntie Y/N!“ Ashley and Alex arrive first of course, wrapping their arms tightly around my waist. Little Andrew stumbles his way to me as quickly as a three year old possibly could.

Without wasting a second, I put my bags down and crouch so I can hug them properly. “Hi my babies! I haven’t seen you in so long.” Their hugging strength surprises me and warms my heart at the same time. The twins pull away, leaving room for the little duckling in a jacket two times his size and weight. “Hi Andrew! I nice to meet you! I’m auntie Y/N. Mommy and daddy have told you about me, haven’t they? If not I’ll kick their asses.”

“Y/N, I swear, I’ll tell Amy you’re teaching her kids swears at a very early age.“ Corpse says teasingly, stealing the attention from all four of us.

“She curses like a sailor, these kids probably know more swear words than I do.“ Ash and Alex run straight out of my grasp and to Corpse, proceeding to hug him around the waist as they did with me. They met Corpse when my sister and her husband Finn visited me back in the summer. They immediately fell in love with him. I specifically remember Alex telling me I have a ‘really cool boyfriend‘ and he only uses the word ‘cool‘ when he really likes something or someone. Corpse was honorably declared cool by Alex and that still warms my heart till this day.

“Hi guys, long time no see!“ He too crouches down to hug the little demons that immediately cling to him like koalas.

I scoop up the bundle of clothes with a face and stand up, balancing him on my hip. “Let’s attempt to get inside, shall we?” With my unoccupied arm I grab the handle of my suitcase.

Corpse nods and follows my lead, picking up the bags he also left in the snow. Ash and Alex bolt it back to the house while we struggle to follow, lowkey embarrassed by the pace we’re walking with.

Andrew struggles against me, reaching out towards Corpse. I look at them both apologetically. “You’ll meet Corpse when we get inside, darling. Chill out.”

“Y/N!“ My sister’s voice steals my attention. She emerges from the house, followed by the twins, a huge smile on her face. Her eyes land on Andrew who has calmed down is now resting his head on my shoulder sleepily, “Oh I’m so sorry about them, Y/N. I didn’t know they would charge at you the second you stepped foot on the property.“

Amy motions for me to give her her son but I hand her my suitcase instead. When she takes it I use my now freed arm to hug her as tightly as I possibly can with one arm and while balancing a baby on my chest. “It’s ok! I couldn’t have dreamed of a better welcoming.” I release, giving her a big smile.

She loses interest in me and goes to hug Corpse, taking a bag from him as well before giving him a hug. “Oh my God, Corpse, it feels like it’s been forever. I’m so glad to see you.”

“Happy to see you too, Amy.“ My sister has never liked a single guy I’ve dated. EVER. Corpse is the only one she warmed up to and that’s a huge deal to me. Corpse’s happiness when I told him that was something I’d pay to have filmed just so I can watch it every time I’m feeling down.

“Let’s get you both inside, you must be freez-“ She cuts herself off, rolling her eyes at me, “Of course, you’re not.“

I laugh and blow her a kiss as we keep carrying onward.

“Um, guys?“ Corpse’s voice makes me pause and turn around. He’s still standing in the same spot, looking- unsettled, I guess you could call it.

“What’s wrong?“ I walk over to him, taking his hand in mine.

His hand automatically gives mine a reassuring squeeze, “Nothing really, it’s just that...I’m meeting your parents for the first time and-...What if they don’t like me?”

I open my mouth to go off and start stating the obvious that they indeed won’t like him. They will LOVE him. It’s impossible not to love this man! But my sister beats me to it when it comes to stating the facts.

“Look, Corpse, they already love you. Heck, sometimes I feel like they have known Finn and you longer than they have known Y/N and I! They speak so highly of you and haven’t even met you - that should tell you more than enough about how they see you.“ She waves her hand towards the cottage, “Now walk in there and blow them away.“

Honestly, I’m glad Amy beat me to it. I couldn’t have said it better myself. 

And just like that, hand in hand, Andrew still in my other arm, we walk in.

                                                             *  *  *

Corpse is officially the main attraction, stealing the spotlight from Amy, Finn and I - something the three of us are incredibly thankful for. Amy was right with every word she said - my parents are absolutely in love with Corpse. Luckily for Finn and Amy, the 3 As are all over him as well. Especially Andrew. The second someone sets him down he just waddles his way over to Corpse who picks him up and settles him in his lap while he answers my parents’ questions. 

When the kids were finally talked into taking a nap, Corpse and I snuck out to have a little walk in the snow and, of course, take some pictures. I made it my personal goal to make as many artsy and aesthetic photos of him as possible. His favorite - a hand only pic of him holding a snowball - was my idea and I think I have never felt prouder of myself.

“I am definitely posting this one.“ He says, turning the phone so I can see the screen. I give it a quick glance, thinking he’s talking about the hand pic but do a double take when I realize it’s a picture of me that he has taken without my knowledge.

I actually look rather decent, so I give him a green light in the form of a big thumbs up, “As long as you post the hand one too.”

“Hey, Y/N!“ We look back at the house which isn’t far from where we are right now. Amy is hugging the jacket tightly around herself as she approaches us with fast steps. “You know where we haven’t been in like forever?“

I raise an eyebrow and shake my head as I rack through my brain trying to dig up what she’s referring to. It could literally be any place on this mountain!

“Hello! The Waterless Lake? Ring any bells?“

Oh...it sure does.

Brief explanation: it is a huge circular dip in the ground which fills with water when the snow melts and becomes a lake but empties by the time winter comes back around. That being said, when the snow is still not melted, it’s an absolute wonderland to play in. I suddenly remember all the barrel-rolling Amy and I did there as kids and feel really nostalgic.

“Oh God, yes! I miss that place!“ I say, snapping out of my reminiscing trance. “Let’s go while it’s still light enough.”

“Finn is making dinner right now, or trying to at least.“ She rolls her eyes, turning to Corpse, “But it’d be our pleasure if you tagged along, Corpse.“

Corpse shakes his head, “I’ll politely decline. You ladies can reminisce and chat in peace, while I’ll be helping Finn in the kitchen.” He gives me a quick peck on the lips before excusing himself, “Have fun!”

“You too!“ We call back to him in unison.

Amy gives me an amazed, wide-eyed look, “He can cook?”

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly, smirking, “Oh, you have no idea.”

She laughs, linking arms with me as we begin walking our way to the Waterless Lake. The place probably has a different name or no name at all, but we named it that as kids and never told our parents where it was. It’s our spot, and it is very surprising Amy offered Corpse to accompany us there.

“Sis, you are very lucky. I hope you know that.“ She tightens the hold on my arm with hers, pulling us closer together.

“I tell myself that every time I look at him, Aims. I am fully aware.“ I say dreamily, recalling all the times I’ve spent with Corpse. Almost one full year and I could never imagine that year, nor the upcoming ones, without him.

                                                                *  *  *

Upon returning, we’re met with the most wholesome scene I have ever seen - Corpse and Finn are making snowmen with the 3 As. It seems like they’ve been at it for a while, considering there is an army of snowmen of different designs, shapes and sizes all at different spots throughout the perimeter of the clearing in front of the house.

“Oh dear Lord.“ Amy mumbles, “I had a feeling this would happen.“

The five snowman-builders don’t even acknowledge our presence when we approach them. Ashley and Alex are running around with Finn, looking for sticks to use as the snowmen’s limbs while Corpse is helping Andrew gather as much snow as possible for the body.

I don’t realize there’s a huge smile on my face up until the point I’m trying to say something. Nothing comes out, though. My words are being muffled by all the overwhelming emotions that have taken over - collapsing my senses. 

With a roll of her eyes, my sister opens the front door, taking a step into the house. The second the door opens, however, I get a whiff of the delicious smell coming from inside. Best guess, and probably the right one - this is Corpse’s doing. 

If I wasn’t already hungry, I sure as hell am now and I’m in no mood to be in that delicious food’s proximity without attacking it. 

“Come on, guys! Dinner time! Get your butts inside!“ I call out to them from the doorway.

Corpse turns to look at me with the sneakiest smirk I have ever seen. He narrows his eyes at me, “You have done the very thing you despise!”

It takes me approximately three seconds to connect the dots and scrunch up my face, picking up all the snow I can an forming it in a snow ball, throwing it at Corpse. Growing up doing this exact thing has given me great aim, therefore I hit Corpse square in the chest.

“Oh you’re so in for it now.“ He laughs, picking up snow to form his own snowball.

“Snowball fight!“ Ashley yells, ditching the sticks to make a snowball for herself.

“Oh no...“ I poke my head in the hallway just as a snowball hits my upper arm, “Aims, I need your help!“ 

Before Amy can respond, I run to take cover behind the nearest snowman that, luckily for me happens to be one of the larger ones. I hear Amy call out my name when she exits the house, followed by a surprised yelp from her when three snowballs hit her. “You are all dead!”

While she is fighting blood and fire (well, water really), I am making ammunition for us both to use. I’m on my eleventh snowball when snow showers me from above as though it has fallen from a tree branch.

“Hiding, I see.“ I am still in shock, hair and upper body covered in snow, when I hear Corpse’s taunting voice.

My vengeance instinct kicks in having me grab two snowballs and turn to throw them at him. To my dismay, he’s faster then me and doesn’t allow me to even get my arm at an angle where I could throw properly. Instead, he turns me back around and picks me up with ease, one arm wrapped around my waist, another grabbing two of my prepared snowballs from the ground.

“Let’s show them who the bosses are.“ I see him wink at me from the corner of my eye and it takes me little to no time to catch onto what he’s insinuating.

In short, with joined forces, we took out the opposite team in no time - like a true couple 😉

[raviotherabbit]

Reunion Tour - Chapter 1

note: this is an extended version of these two posts, with an ending added on.

[first] - [next] read it on ao3!

Chapter 1: Familiar Circumstances Wild and Warriors meet each other again.

- - - 

There were quite a few things Wild wanted to do this weekend. Like maybe sleep in for a bit, maybe cooking a special breakfast. They’d even been planning on visiting little Zelly, a promise that her mother was sure to scold them for not keeping.

Instead, they were rudely awoken by a rough collision with the dirt, and they quickly realized they weren’t in their soft waterbed in Zora’s Domain anymore. Blearily blinking their eyes open, Wild feels like they’ve been hit by Ruta’s Cryonis again.

They’re in the castle courtyard of Warriors’ time. Which, as they seem to recall, is tens of thousands of years removed from their own era.

“Oh great,” Wild scowls as the golden light fades behind them. Ten years since their tearful goodbyes with their fellow heroes, and all of a sudden, Hylia’s playing games again.

Wild pushes themself off the ground, dusting whatever they can off with their one arm. It’s only then, when several halberds are pointed right at their face, that they realize they have an audience.

“Stop right there!” one of the soldiers, presumably a higher ranking officer, shouts. “Put your hands in the air!”

Wild frowns, but some part of their mind still remembers Warriors’ lectures to respect authority in his era. It was always so annoying, especially since he was the only one who cared so much about how they were perceived by the guards, but the anger in his eyes after Wild’s third infraction for trespassing (it’s not like those people were USING their roofs!) was enough to convince them to behave. So, after a moment of hesitation, they raise their arm above their head.

“Both hands!” The guard juts his halberd closer to Wild’s face.

“This is all I’ve got, man.”

A lower ranking guard lifts the side of Wild’s poncho. “They’re telling the truth, sir,” they announce, gesturing to their missing right arm.

“W-well!” the officer stammers, and Wild can’t help but smirk. “Take them to a cell! Trespassing on castle grounds is no laughing matter!”

Wild rolls their eyes as one of the soldiers forcefully grabs their left arm. “You’re gonna regret this, you know.”

“Quiet you!” the senior officer snaps at them. “I’ll have no disrespect from magicians who infiltrate our defenses against the crown!”

“Fine,” Wild scoffs. “Hey, while you’re processing my intake paperwork or whatever, could you tell my brother where I am? He’ll be sooooo worried about me.”

The senior officer’s eye twitches. One of the lower ranking guards whispers, “It is protocol to inform citizens of incarcerated family members.”

“Alright! Alright!” the senior officer throws his hands up in frustration. “Just tell me and get out of here!”

“He’s the hero, Link. Ever heard of him?” Wild forces down a laugh as the officer’s face turns red. “Tell him Wild’s in prison again, and it’s not their fault this time!”

“Take them away!” the senior officer points the guard holding them towards the dungeon. “Now!”

And even though they’re being dragged into the dreaded dungeons of Hyrule Castle, Wild can’t help but laugh the entire time.

- - -

“You’re going to be in big trouble,” Wild lightly scratches at the rusty bars of their jail cell. They’re sitting on the nasty dungeon floor, legs crossed. “Seriously, it’s not too late to let me go.”

The guard stationed outside their cell sighs. “I’m not in charge of that.”

Wild huffs, pouting to themself. A little recognition wouldn’t hurt, would it? They were here all the time a decade ago! And even then, everyone knew they were with Wars. These kinds of theatrics and blunders are just rude!

“So, is Commander Link really your brother?”

Wild’s ear twitches when the guard speaks up. “Commander, huh? Wars got a promotion?”

“Uh, I-” the guard stammers. “I don’t-”

“Yeah, he’s pretty much my brother,” Wild answers. “It’s been a bit since I was in town, though.”

“YOU WHAT?!”

The shout rings through the dungeons, a shrill entitlement that Wild would know anywhere.

Wild clicks their tongue. “That’d be him,” they point their thumb towards the entrance to the dungeon. “You know, it’s been nice hanging out with you.”

“Don’t make it sound like I’m going to die.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you,” Wild promises, standing up and gripping onto one of the bars just as Warriors rounds the corner, flanked by the senior officer, who now looks flustered.

And that’s Wild’s confirmation that it’s been some time for their brother, as well. He’s sporting some well-manicured stubble, obviously, because everything about Wars is well-manicured. His hair is longer, tied back in a ponytail that reminds Wild of themself. Of course, they didn’t have a chance to do their hair before landing in the past, so it’s all loose and tangled.

“Wild?!” Warriors shouts, mostly in shock. “You’re really here?!”

“Oh thank goodness!” Wild feels like they could cry. “Wars get me out of here!”

“What are you doing here?” Wars ruffles their hair through the bars, a warm smile on both of their faces. “I thought we agreed, no more trespassing.”

“It’s not my fault, it was the portals!” Wild explains quickly. “They wouldn’t listen to me. I just woke up here!”

Hearing Wild’s poor circumstances, Wars snaps back towards the senior officer. “You ARRESTED my brother!”

“Your one-armed brother!” Wild pipes up from behind him.

“My ONE-ARMED- wait,” Warriors turns back to Wild, his tone suddenly soft as he looks at them with concern. “You lost your arm?”

Wild stares at Warriors blankly. “Don’t tell Twilight.”

“I’m not-!” Wars sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How would I even tell him?”

Wild simply shrugs.

“We’re talking about this later,” Warriors asserts, before turning to address the officer once again. His glare is cold, and his fury is burning. “I can’t BELIEVE that you saw a clearly disoriented individual in your courtyard and decided to ARREST THEM, of all things! Who is your superior, I’ll have to inform him-!”

Wild leans over to the guard, who’s standing frozen with fear next to the cell. “I told you,” they whisper.

- - -

“I’m hungry,” Wild whines, tugging at Warriors’ sleeve. “Can we get breakfast somewhere? I didn’t get to eat before I got arrested.”

Wars, in turn, shoots them a look of annoyance. He shrugs them off, continuing down the street. “You aren’t even the slightest bit concerned that the portals are opening again?”

“Please Wars I’m starving,” Wild begs. “I got pulled out of bed.”

Warriors sighs. “Fine. If you’re so insistent on breakfast, you can have free reign of my kitchen-” A sly smile creeps onto his face. “It’s been a while since I’ve had your cooking.”

“Oh, Sir Link, how generous of you, making your guest work!” Wild elbows him with their one good arm. “You see your dear sweet baby brother again after all this time-”

“You’re almost thirty, for Hylia’s sake!”

“Your BABY BROTHER,” Wild continues, “And all you can think about is what they can do for you.”

Suddenly and swiftly, Warriors pulls Wild into a headlock. “Why is it that every hero I meet is such a brat, huh?” he wonders aloud. “First the old man, then the sailor, and now you?”

“Don’t count yourself out, Commander,” Wild retorts, wiggling their way out of Wars’ grasp. “By the way, congrats on that promotion.”

“That was ages ago, it’s like you don’t keep up with me,” Wars scoffs playfully. “But seriously, I need you to cook for me again. I haven’t been the same without your home-cooked breakfasts.”

“Well, if you insist,” Wild relents. “Though I’m going to need a certain sous chef to help me.”

“That’s only fair,” Wars nods in agreement.

Warriors’ home is a townhouse deep in the heart of Castle Town, surrounded by a tall iron fence with pointed tips. The lawn is perfectly manicured, evenly cut grass and freshly trimmed roses. He’s silent as he unlocks the gate, as he leads Wild inside. Wars quickly closes the door behind them both, the sunlight trickling through the windows the only thing illuminating the darkened foyer.

It’s grand inside, that’s for sure. The blue carpet is soft and plush, and the wooden walls are filled with paintings and pictures. But something about it is… empty. Warriors awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck at Wild’s gaze.

“Kinda quiet around here,” Wild comments, but their face goes red when they realize the harshness of their words. “Uh, I mean it’s a really nice place you’ve got, Wars! You must be doing-”

Warriors suddenly places a hand behind Wild’s back, ushering them forward. “Yes, well, Althai is with his mother this week. Come on, the kitchen is this way.”

“Althai?” Wild cocks their head. “Wars, do you have a kid?”

“Yes, but-”

Wild side steps away from Wars. “Wait, I want to meet him!”

“We can’t right now, Wild,” Warriors pinches the bridge of his nose, an irritated scowl on his face that reminds Wild of the old man. “Freya and I aren’t… together anymore, and I’d rather not face her wrath if I showed up unannounced.”

Wild blinks. “Oh, I see.”

“So!” Wars quickly snaps out of it. “How about we avoid all that, and instead, we can make your breakfast?”

“Yeah,” Wild smiles, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I was thinking crepes. You still like those, right?”

The tension fades away from Wars, and he grins back at his brother. “I’ve always loved your crepes.”

- - -

“You know, I never took you as the braiding type,” Wild remarks over a mouthful of honey crepe.

“Don’t talk while you’re eating,” Wars instinctively responds, one hand focused on Wild’s hair while he uses the other to take a bite of his own crepe.

“Aw, you sound like Zelda,” Wild pouts.

“How’s she doing, by the way?” Warriors asks. “You as well. It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.”

“We’re both doing good,” Wild announces. “I mean, after the whole revival of Ganondorf business—which is long over, by the way, please don’t worry about that—things have been quiet.” They gasp. “I have a niece now!”

“You do, huh?” Warriors says. “We’re getting old.”

“Ick, don’t remind me,” Wild sticks their tongue out. “I’m planning on staying as young and childlike as possible.”

“Again, you’re almost thirty.”

“Shut up!”

Warriors laughs at Wild’s outburst. He finishes the end of Wild’s braid, securing it with a hair tie. “All done.”

“Thanks for that, Wars,” Wild says as Wars loops around to sit across from them. “I usually get Sidon to do it, but with the one arm-”

Warriors raises a hand to stop them. “I get it, don’t worry.” His face sours quickly. “We should address the moblin in the room.”

“Right,” Wild sighs. “I definitely should not be here.”

“You’re not an unwelcome guest, but…” Warriors crosses his hands in front of him. “I haven’t heard of any black-blooded monsters again, have you?”

Wild shakes their head. “Nothing of the sort.”

“So whatever issue this is, it’s new,” he reasons. “How likely do you think it is that the two of us will be dragged away to another time together?”

“Based on past experience?” Wild questions. “That will almost certainly happen.”

“Great,” Wars rubs at his temples in agitation.

“Honestly, I’m just glad to get in at the beginning this time,” Wild admits. “You guys already knew everything by the time I joined! That wasn’t fair.”

“Easy, soldier,” Wars pats their head, much to Wild’s chagrin. “Eat up, it seems like we have somewhere to be soon.”

Wild raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Congratulations, you’re going to meet your nephew,” Wars grimaces, crossing his arms together. “We’re going to my ex-wife’s house.”

- - -

"Just let me do the talking."

Wild shoots Wars a suspicious look. The two of them are standing in front of an ornate wooden door, leading into a nice stone house on the edge of the city. "She can't be that bad."

"Whatever you're thinking, Freya's worse," Warriors insists, practically sweating bullets.

Wild rolls their eyes, before reaching forward and slamming the iron knocker into the door repeatedly.

"Wild!" Warriors grabs their hand, yanking them back.

"You were taking too long!"

"I would have knocked eventually, now I have to rush through this," he hisses, pulling Wild up to eye level. "Don't annoy her, don't break anything. Don't be yourself."

"That's so rude!" Wild squirms in his grasp. "Let go, I've only got the one arm!"

“Link?”

Wars drops Wild onto the stone steps below them as he finally notices Freya at the door. She has long, dark, curled hair, pulled back into a bun. She worriedly looks down at Wild, who’s pouting on the floor at their aches.

“Freya!” Wars immediately has a wary smile on his face. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“Uh, yes…” she claps her hand together, suddenly gesturing inside. “Please, please, come in!” Freya turns over her shoulder and yells, “Althai! Your dad’s here!”

“Dad!” a small voice shouts from elsewhere, and suddenly, a child darts in and latches onto Wars’ leg. “Dad, I missed you!”

“Let me see you!” Wars lifts the kid, holding him up to his face. Aside from his tan complexion and curls, Althai is a little clone of his father, with freckled cheeks and shiny gold hair. “How are you bigger already, Alt? It’s only been a few days!”

Althai giggles, and much to Wild’s surprise, Freya laughs as well.

As Warriors turns to Wild, he balances his son on his hip. “Althai, this is your Uncle Wild.”

“Oh.” Noticing Wild for the first time, Althai almost turns smaller in his father’s grasp. “Hi,” he says, shyly offering a little hand for Wild.

“It’s nice to meet you, Althai,” Wild smiles warmly, shaking his hand.

“Uncle Wild, huh?” Freya abruptly speaks up, a scowl on her face. “Althai, how about you show our guest the garden?” Her gaze turns to Wars, who swallows nervously as he places his son back on the ground. “I need to talk to your father.”

“Um. Okay,” Althai takes Wild’s hand, guiding them past his parents. “This way.”

“Alright,” Wild agrees. Before Althai can drag them away completely, they wink at Wars. A viable alternative for a thumbs up, of course.

- - -

Freya keeps a nice garden, Wild decides. They’re sitting on the stone path, dividing the flowers from the herbs. It’s well-manicured, unlike Wild’s own attempt at a vegetable garden a few years back. Bees buzz by, which they idly watch fly along.

Althai’s got his nose buried in a book, but since he’s a kid, Wild’s willing to let such a faux pas slide. He hasn’t said a word since they left the house, though, and they’re starting to get a bit antsy.

“So…” Wild drums their fingers on their leg. “What’re you reading?”

“Uh, it’s a book,” Althai says.

Wild nods. “Sure, sure. Of course.”

Silence hangs over the two of them again. This kid is nothing like the little firecracker Zelly is, Wild realizes.

“Do you really have one arm?”

“Oh! Yeah!” Wild lifts their poncho, showing off their missing arm again. “See? Pretty cool, huh?”

“Woah.” Althai abandons his book, inspecting them closer. “How did it happen?”

“Ohhhh, what a story,” Wild recounts, putting on their best spooky voice. “I was journeying through some caves with my friend, when suddenly, we came upon this evil man, who was put down there for trying to hurt Hyrule. When we got close, he heard us and woke up! And then, he used his evil, corrosive magic to-”

“Eep!” Althai shouts, hiding his face in the green cloth of Wild’s poncho.

Fuck!

“No, no!” Wild tries to amend, pulling back the poncho to reveal Althai’s face. “I was just- I was kidding! The arm was sick, and we had to get rid of it so I could be healthy. No bad men! No evil magic!”

“Oh,” Althai sits on the ground next to Wild. “Okay.”

Wild ruffles his hair. “You like stories, don’t you, kid?”

“Yeah,” Althai picks at the grass.

“Well, has your dad ever told you the story about his journey with the other Heroes across time?”

Althai perks up, nodding. “Mhm! All the Links!”

“Well, did you know I’m one of those Links?” Wild gestures to themself. “It’s true! I’m from thousands of years in the future!”

Althai gasps. “Really?!”

“Yes, really,” Wild confirms. “You know, I’ve got a few stories about your dad from back then. Stories I’m sure he never told you.”

“Tell me!” Althai jumps up, tugging on Wild’s shoulder. “Tell me tell me tell me!”

“Alright, alright, settle down.” Wild pulls the kid into their lap. “How about… the time we lost him on the coldest mountain in Hyrule?”

- - -

“So,” Freya crosses her arms, looking out the window. Her ex-husband sits across from her at the kitchen table. “That’s the Hero of the Wild in my backyard, isn’t it?”

“Er, yes,” Wars awkwardly scratches the back of his head. “Yes it is.”

“Alright, Link,” she pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. “What happened?”

"Freya, please, it's none of your concern."

"None of my-?!" Freya is taken aback. "How about this, Link. Is it another journey?"

Warriors nods. "Most likely, yes."

"So then Althai needs to stay with me for who knows how long," she reasons. "Which means I need to get his things from your place, and I'll be making the trip to his school to pick him up for weeks. Not to mention the fact that I'll have to comfort my kid over his father's absence."

"I don't have a choice!" Wars reminds her. "Do you think I want to miss my time with Althai?"

"I'm not saying that, Link!" Freya corrects. "I'm saying that this very obviously affects me, whether you'll admit it or not." She covers his hand with her own. "Tell me what happened, alright? Just because we're not married doesn't mean we can't be friends."

Friends, huh?

"I know you're excited to see Wild, again," Freya smiles. "It's been so long, you're allowed to want to see your friends."

"Even if it means leaving Althai?" Warriors frowns. He flips his hand to hold hers.

"He'll be alright," Freya says. "He's tough, just like his dad. He'll be waiting here when you get back."

"When I get back," Wars echoes. "Yes, you're right! We'll visit when we can, and you and Althai can meet all of them!" Wars suddenly takes both her hands. "I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"Thank you, Link," Freya sighs in relief. "How about we invite those two rascals back in? I'd love to get to know your brother."

"That's a great idea," Warriors grins. "I knew you were my best idea maker."

"Always have been."

- - -

“I’ll see you soon, Alty,” Wild kneels down to pat the kid’s head. “Remember, if your dad doesn’t let you do something, tell him that Uncle Legend would.”

“Wild, what are you telling my kid?” Wars crosses his arms and scowls. Once again, the image of Time and his disappointing glare comes right to Wild’s mind.

“Nothing!” Wild steps aside. “Just saying he should stay in school! Stuff like that!”

“Sure.” Wild can tell by his tone that Warriors doesn’t believe them, but he instead chooses to scoop Althai up in a hug. “Be good for your mother, my little bookworm. I’ll be back soon! Once this is all done, I’m taking you for ice cream.”

“Alright, Dad!” Althai giggles, wrapping his arms around his father’s neck. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I’ll miss you.” With his free hand, Wars digs through his pockets, producing a key that he offers to Freya. “This is my spare key. Take it, it’s yours.”

“Why thank you, Sir Link,” Freya graciously takes the key. “I’ll be sure to keep all your plants watered.”

And so, Wild and Wars find themselves back on the road, walking side by side as the sun sets. Wild takes a deep breath and sighs, enjoying the fresh air.

This is it.

“You know, Freya was actually very nice,” Wild says, smirking.

Warriors scoffs. “Oh, quiet you.”

“You’re still so dramatic,” they remark. “I can’t believe a word you say.”

“Hush,” Wars wraps an arm around Wild’s shoulder, drawing them close. “I’m trying to enjoy having my brother back, and you’re ruining it.”

Wild laughs, but before they can respond with their own witty comeback, there’s a bright light. Blinking through the brightness, the heroes find a portal in front of them, its golden swirls welcoming and inviting.

“Well, I guess it’s time,” Wild says. “You ready, Commander?”

“I guess I am, Chef,” Wars smiles.

“Aw, it’s cute you think I’m professionally trained.”

And so, once again, two of Hylia’s heroes step through a portal again, with neither an idea of where they’re going nor a care in the world.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #29: Fade In: Katsuki Bakugou

On a late-night movie date, you and Bakugou have the theatre to yourselves. You take advantage. 

Characters: Katsuki Bakugou / f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!), aged-up characters, overworked pro hero Bakugou, movie theatre (public) sex, lots of dirty talk, Bakugou’s sailor mouth

Notes: Today’s prompt was “Dirty Talk.” The premise is inspired by real-life events that are FAR more innocent than I’m making them sound. 😂  I’m enjoying writing all of these little Bakugou bits! Let me know if you want to see more of our grumpy boi after Kinktober.

Kinktober Masterlist

The city is buzzing with life, even at 10pm on a Tuesday.

You drag Bakugou out of the train station, practically hauling him up the stairs and dashing across the street in the last few seconds of a walk light. A few months ago, you’d have been amazed that he’s even holding your hand in public, but these days he’s quite happy to- even if he pouts the whole time.

It’s a warmer night for the season, so you’ve got on something cute- with a playful little skirt swishing around your bare thighs. You figure there’s no better night to push your comfort zone than one you plan to spend sitting in a dark theatre.

Comfort zone or not, you feel cute. Especially given how many glances you’ve caught Bakugou stealing at your legs.

You’re meeting this late on a weeknight because it’s the only chance that Bakugou actually has to see you. He’s been busting ass night and day at the agency lately, and he’s been pulling weekends for months. You’ve got work in the morning, but you’re so thrilled to actually go out with him you don’t mind.

It’s not like your job is particularly exciting these days, anyway.

You file into the theatre, snag a popcorn to share, and take your seats. You’re the first ones in the theatre, which doesn’t surprise you- this movie’s been out for a while, and it’s not exactly a primetime showing.

Besides, you’re early.

You catch up a little, taking handfuls of buttery popcorn. Bakugou does not like taking on the role of sidekick, but he’s way ahead of the rest of his classmates even landing a job like that at twenty-one. Still, everyone knows that sidekicks are some of the most overworked heroes in the game.

It’s not until the theatre goes dark and the previews start that you realize. Nobody else is coming.

Holy shit.

“Are we seriously the only ones in this theatre right now?” You turn to Bakugou in nervous disbelief. He gives an absent little shrug, reaching for more popcorn.

“I’ll still kick your ass if you start texting halfway through.” He shoots you a wicked smirk, stroking an indulgent palm affectionately over your thigh. You’ve still got goosebumps from the chill outside, but fresh ones race across your skin when he touches you.

It’s been a while. For both of you.

“Be honest.” His voice is gruff in your ear, cutting deeper than the noisy previews that flash across the giant screen. “You wore that skirt for me, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t wear it for anyone,” you chide. You rest your palm on top of his. His fingers curl against your thigh- and yours curl around his.

“So fuckin’ cute,” he growls. He nips at the lobe of your ear and you suppress a gasp. “Looked so naughty, stickin’ out the bottom of your jacket. Like you were walkin’ around the city with nothin’ on.”

“Stop,” you chide, heat rushing to your face. “We’re-“

“What? In public?”

Whatever witty retort you had planned dies in your throat. You’re the only ones in here. It’s dark. The doors are shut. The music is loud.

You’re not sure how long it’s actually been since they needed someone up there in the projection booth, but you’re pretty certain it’s empty.

Bakugou slips an arm around your shoulders and tugs you in close. He nuzzles the spot where your ear meets your jaw, then tilts his chin up and nibbles at the same place.

It’s getting harder to say no to him. Not that you were ever trying very hard to begin with.

You relax into his affections as the previews end and the movie itself rolls. The opening credits begin with a burst of music as you turn your head and surrender yourself to a searing kiss. Bakugou twines his fingers into your hair and tugs gently, tilting your head back for access to the bare column of your throat.

“D’you have… any idea… how long… I’ve been thinking about this,” he gasps into your skin. You try not to whimper. It doesn’t work.

Bakugou’s rough palm slides up the tender skin of your inner thigh. You part your legs just a little, encouraging him. His fingertips brush beneath the hem of your skirt. You’re already damp and heated, ready for him after what feels like a lifetime apart.

You’ve seen each other plenty over the past couple of weeks, but it was always in passing. You’d drop by the agency at lunch (and embarrass the shit out of him in the process), he’d come home to you exhausted on weeknights and pass out seconds after falling into bed. He’s so fucking overworked these days it’s a wonder he’s got any libido left at all.

You’re going to take what you can get.

“Fuck,” he snarls as his mouth trails back to your ear. “You’re wet for me already, sweetness? I knew you were into this kinda shit. So dirty, sweetheart, so fuckin’ naughty.”

“Katsuki,” you plead. He’s running his mouth especially hard tonight. It’s doing more for you than you’d care to admit.

“That’s it, baby,” he continues. “I know it makes you sloppy when I talk to you like this. C’mere, sweetness, lemme take care of you.”

He slips his arm down to your waist and drags you over the armrest into his lap. You don’t fight him, letting your thighs spread across his jeans. Immediately, he anchors one powerful arm around your waist to hold you in place, sliding his other hand between your thighs and pushing your underwear to the side.

“God,” he gasps against your shoulder as he sinks two fingers into your tight heat. “I’ve missed your pussy. I’ve missed fuckin’ you so goddamn much.”  He draws his fingers back and pushes them in again, settling into a slow rhythm. You’re right there with him, rolling your hips smoothly into his touch.

He’s hard already, stiff and excited down one leg of his jeans. You felt it the second he tugged you onto his thighs, and you’re not shy about rubbing yourself against it.

“That’s it, baby,” he growls. “You want it? You want my cock, right here in the fuckin’ theatre? You do, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you find yourself whining. You never used to be adventurous. Not before Katsuki came along. But he makes you wild.

He lets go of you and you lean forward a little, letting him scoot backwards to fumble with his fly. He unzips, pulling his thick cock out and hiking your skirt up. You feel it, heated and already dripping with precum, against your ass.

With one hand braced on your hip, he lifts you. You tug your underwear out of the way and hold it there. As you sink down on him, he lets his head fall back against the seat with a feral groan.

“God damn, sweetness. Fuck, you’re as fuckin’ tight as ever. So goddamn wet for me. That’s it, ride my fat fucking cock. Shit, you really know how to milk it outta me, don’t you?”

You start to rock your hips atop his, keeping the movements subtle. As you let go of your panties, your skirt flops back down around your thighs, concealing your union. Bakugou keeps one hand braced on your hip while the other roams, tugging your shirt out of the top of your skirt and slipping his palm over your chest.

“Not… gonna last long,” he warns tightly behind you.

“Me neither,” you pant. It’s been too long for both of you.

Bakugou loses patience and lifts you by the hips, planting his feet on the sticky theatre floor and rutting up into you with a sloppy slap slap slap. He pants hard into your shoulder, sucking and biting at your tender skin and growling more filth into your ear.

“That’s better. God, I really needed to fuck you, baby. Look at you. You’re gonna cum so fast on just my cock. You’ve been holdin’ out on me this whole time, huh?”

He’s right. You’re tipping your head back against his shoulder and riding out the waves of pleasure he pumps into you. He knows your body well- he can feel the way your thighs begin to tense and shake as you get ready to cum.

“Fuck, Katsuki… b-baby, I…” Your voice dies in your throat as your peak hits you, tight and silent. You dig your fingers into the fabric armrests on either side of your hips and grip him tight, descending into shivers atop him.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” Bakugou’s voice is beginning to break, too, but he keeps it down hard and growls softly from the depths of his chest. “Wet little pussy drippin’ out all over me. God, you’re such a mess. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill you up. Gonna put so much cum in your belly, sweetness. Gonna make you so messy for me. Getting so fuckin’ close, baby, oh, shit, oh g-gah…”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence either. He cums hard beneath you, intense and sudden and fast. The wet burst of him inside you is harder than you anticipated but you let him fill you. You let him fuck out the pleasure and you let him collapse, spent, into the plush chair behind him.

His jeans are a mess. Your underwear is, too. Slowly, you work your way off of him and he tucks himself back into his pants. You settle into the pleasant weight of each other. To your immense surprise, nobody finds you. Nobody discovers what you’ve done. You leave the theatre without incident and later, when he takes you home, he fucks you twice more.

The next morning, your coworker slinks eagerly up to you in the break room as you’re grabbing your first cup of bitter office-brew. You didn’t get much rest last night.

“So?” She nudges you, grinning wickedly. “What’d you think?”

“Of what?” You eye her sleepily.

She rolls her eyes. “Duh. The movie. How was it?”

“Oh.” Your brain freezes up. You panic. Think of something to say. Quick. “It was… great. Such a cute ending.”

Quite an answer, considering it was a horror movie she’d recommended yesterday.

[asset35-maya]

CALYPSO 🐚 ☕️

Part 1 & Part 2

Part 3/3:

Nines froze as the human’s body melded to his. Gavin kept his eyes shut and his lips moving. Then what he’d been bracing for finally came.

Pain.

Sweet glorious pain, blossoming everywhere Nines gripped his body. Gavin was sure that his lips would bruise under the pressure of the reciprocal kiss… that his rib cage would shatter if Nines held him any tighter… that his lungs would burst if they didn’t fill with air soon…

A wolf-whistle broke through the stunned silence in the yard.

Gavin pulled back, light-headed from the rush of oxygen and drain of adrenaline. He didn’t fall though. Didn’t even move an inch. Strong arms and a heated gaze kept him pinned.

//

\\

“Of all the things in the world… why coffee?”

“I could ask you the same.”

Gavin tucked his head into the crook of Nines’ neck, cuddling closer.

“Hmm… I think weird working hours made me actually need the caffeine… but the bean snobbery just came with the rest of my superiority complexes.”

Nines laughed. It was more of an exhale than an actual laugh, but Gavin was thankful for it nonetheless.

“And you?”

Nines kissed his forehead, prolonging his answer as much as he could before finally relenting with a sigh.

“The reason you’re asking… is because running a café is just about the last thing you’d expect an android like me to be doing. And… that’s your answer. That’s exactly why I wanted it.”

“To subvert expectations…?”

“To not be the terrible thing I was meant to be.”

Gavin’s breath hitched at the depth of emotion in Nines’ voice. He didn’t dare look up to meet his eye and settled for pressing his lips to the razor-sharp jawline.

“I dunno what kinda code runs through you, but believe me when I say you don’t have it in you to be… terrible.”

Nines scoffed at that.

“How can you say that after all the shit you’ve seen me do.”

“I can say that after all the shit I’ve seen others do. Fifteen years on the job, remember? I can vouch that righteous anger is one of the least terrible things out there.”

When Nines didn’t respond, Gavin decided to move the ship out of uncharted waters. He propped himself up on an elbow and ran a hand down the android’s smooth chest.

“In fact, I think it’s downright sexy.”

That did the trick. Nines pressed Gavin into the mattress with a low growl and rolled over him, clamping his mouth over his throat. Their hips aligned and the conversation ended.

//

\\

“Ralph tried hard but the machine is not working. Ralph is stuck.”

“Move. Let me see.”

Gavin took the filter holder and disconnected it from the espresso machine with a firm tug. He leapt away in shock as water came rushing out. That was absolutely not supposed to happen.

“Er… I’ll get a mechanic friend to take a look later. Why don’t you go check on inventory?”

Ralph shuffled away with a thoroughly sceptical look in his eye. Gavin sighed openly once the android was out of earshot.

The café was in shambles.

The vandals may have gotten as good as they gave… but they’d left their mark. Even with insurance, there was no way such a new establishment could financially recover from a setback like that.

Nines said nothing but seethed with his usual brand of silent, impotent rage.

Unable to bear the slammed car doors and dismissive grunts any longer, Gavin had taken a solo day off to come down to the Calypso and see what could be done.

Not much, without a boatload of money, it seemed.

He sat down with a sigh and Ralph brought over a cup of coffee. Black. A pour-over. He set a bowl of runny eggs and a small basket of bread down on the table too.

Gavin looked up in surprise. Ralph shrugged.

“Nines is telling Ralph that you left without breakfast. Ralph’s equipment is all broken so Ralph just made something simple.”

Touched beyond words, Gavin motioned for Ralph to sit down with him instead of scurrying off into the shadows as per his usual habit.

He took a sip of the hand-poured drip coffee and broke a piece of the bread, dragging it through the eggs, European style. It was utterly homely and reminded of him of some bygone era that he’d needlessly bypassed. He looked up and met Ralph’s mildly unsettling stare.

“So… why the name Calypso? There’s nothing beach-themed or Caribbean about the place.”

“Nines chose it. After the Greek goddess.”

“Huh. And she was the goddess of coffee? Did they even have coffee back in those Hercules Orgy Olympics days?”

“She is a sea nymph. She detained the mythic hero Odysseus on her island for seven years.”

Gavin’s brows furrowed as he swallowed a mouthful of fresh bread.

“Did you bake this?”

“Yes. Ralph is baking daily. Ralph does it first thing in the morning at five. It is very calming to knead the dough and hear the birdsong.”

“It’s phcking delicious. Leavened perfectly. Now back to the name. This goddess nymph creature. She doesn’t sound very nice. She trapped this hero dude, right? Reminds me of my ex. Why name this pretty café after her?”

“Ralph can only imagine that Nines’ fascination with Calypso is the ambiguity of her nature. She can seduce and manipulate, but she can also heal. She is neither good nor evil.”

Gavin drained his coffee and sank back in his chair contemplatively.

“What do you think she is, Ralph?”

Ralph’s LED flickered and his eyes dipped to the table. He knew what Gavin was asking.

“Calypso is immortal. Calypso cannot help but fall in love with every sailor who lands on her shores. Calypso dreams of an eternal husband but lets Odysseus go when it’s clear he wishes to return to his wife. Well, maybe only when the Gods commands her to… but she releases him without harm!”

Gavin waited. Ralph’s head snapped up and he spoke in a short burst.

“Calypso is mythical. It does not matter what she is. Nines is real. Nines is good. Very good. Honest and honourable! Ralph will do anything for Nines!”

Gavin leaned back in his chair with the satisfied smile of an experienced police negotiator who’d gotten exactly where he wanted to.

//

\\

“What the hell is this? Where did you get so much money from?”

Nines’ amber LED cycled furiously as he took in the sight of the restored café. Ralph was humming to himself as he proudly polished the knobs of their repaired espresso machine.

Gavin led Nines by the hand to look at the repainted walls… the new furniture… the new crockery replacing what had been smashed…

“How…?”

“Oh I just embodied my inner Gen Z and tapped into the power of social justice.”

Nines looked thoroughly nonplussed.

“Crowdfunding, baby. I set up a link and Ralph told everyone on Twitter what happened to him and the café. Well, showed them, more like.”

Nines looked up at the ceiling and his LED slowly returned to a calm blue as he understood… but when he looked back down, his expression wasn’t any less troubled.

“Okay I just saw it. Edited footage from his optical units and a tearful testimonial. Ethically questionable, but clever.”

“Super effective. We overshot our target by a couple hundred bucks.”

“Hmm. People are kind.”

“Yes. They’ve actually done more for you. Look. Connor gave me this earlier today.”

Gavin reached into his jacket and produced an envelope. Nines’ eyes widened as he spotted the official seals of the Mayor’s office, the Manfred Estate and New Jericho.

“Someone started a petition… to let you back behind the helm of the Calypso. It really took off. I don’t know how you didn’t hear-”

“I muted any mentions of myself and the other RKs from showing up in my newsfeed.”

“Then this makes for a good surprise.”

Gavin gently pushed the envelope into the android’s hands and watched him open it with a precise fingernail flicked under the wax. He scanned the contents of the letter in a split second and let it fall through his fingers.

Without warning, he scooped Gavin up and set him down on a polished table for a deep kiss of even deeper gratitude. Ralph turned his back on them with a bashful giggle.

//

\\

“Baby.”

Nines didn’t respond.

“Hey baby?”

“Hmm...”

There was an intensity to the grumble that had Gavin second-guessing whether to persist. Being Nines’ lover didn’t exempt him from the consequences of asking stupid questions.

“Your thoughts are fucking loud. Just say whatever you want to.”

“Oh. Um… I was actually wondering… I mean, you don’t have to tell me… but like why… um…”

“Why haven’t I turned my badge in yet?”

“Yeah…”

Nines turned on his side and brushed the back of his hand over Gavin’s cheek. The intimate gesture sent a thrill through the human despite how much more intimate they’d just been in the recent past.

“Because I haven’t decided what to do next.”

Gavin’s brows knitted together.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to take back your business?”

Nines’ wan smile told him all he needed to know.

“Why?”

“It’s doing really well in Ralph’s hands. He’s capable. He’s creative. And I don’t think it’s fair for me to go back and get in his way all of a sudden.”

“He needs you.”

“He absolutely doesn’t. It’s his café. You helped him get back on his feet and he’s going to be fiiiiine without me.”

“Is it because you don’t wanna be her anymore?”

Nines scrunched his nose up in confusion.

“Who?”

“Calypso. The siren who trapped the Oddball.”

That earned Gavin a heartfelt laugh.

“Odysseus, Gavin.”

“Yeah. You were like Calypso and now you’re letting go of the coffeeshop because you figured it wasn’t meant to be!”

Nines frowned and pretended to check the human for a temperature. Gavin swatted his hands away with mock petulance.

“Fine, I’m probably way off the mark. You tell me what the deal is then!”

Arms snaked around his waist and pulled him flush against the android’s defined chest. Lips brushed the shell of his ear and when Nines spoke next, it was in the huskiest of undertones.

“I’m Odysseus. Not Calypso.”

The realisation was painfully obvious in hindsight.

“I’m the one who’s stuck on an endless journey home. I’ve faced a hundred artificial trials and tribulations. I’ve been a puppet at the hands of false gods. I answer existential questions to prove my self-worth every single day.”

Nines paused to gauge Gavin’s reaction. When he received none, he pressed a brief kiss to the human’s bare shoulder before continuing.

“It’s been a long journey. But not a pointless one. Every metaphorical island I’ve visited has granted me something. From literally running into Ralph in an old building… to defending our turf from other stray androids… getting ourselves off the street… setting up a café from scratch… being arrested on opening day… ending up on the police force with you…”

Gavin recognised that as his cue to squirm around in Nines’ arms and peck him on the lips.

“So who’s Cyclops?”

“What?”

“The story’s starting to come back to me now. Your boy Oddy fought a one-eyed monster on one of the islands he went to. Who’s the Cyclops in your story?”

Nines huffed another breathy laugh.

“Markus, probably. Connor is definitely Helios.”

“Who’s your wife?”

“Definitely not you.”

Gavin elbowed him in the ribs. An action that had more repercussions on him than Nines.

“So which island are you off to next?”

“I have no idea. But it doesn’t matter. I might already be home.”

[my-simp-land]

Orange Blossom Kisses

more domestic fluff because that's all I dream about. Bucky x reader. 1747 words. again, i didn't do any profreading so...happy reading!

Fridays are reserved for baking. Ever since I moved into the compound, I’ve trashed my(Stark’s) kitchen making delicious cakes, pies, pastries, you name it. Each week I try to make something for someone, but I don't tell them it’s for them. Kinda like gift giving. This week, I’ve been pestering Steve about things Bucky may like. I think he knows I’m trying to get recipe ideas out of him, so he’s made it quite difficult.

“Cakes? From the old days? Oooooh, I don’t know. It’s been so long ago. You said yourself I’m an old geezer. My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“What’d ya say? I can’t hear ya. These ears aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“Oh I don’t remember any pie recipes. I was but a wee lad and didn’t pay attention to the kitchen.”

Thankfully, I got Sam to work as my spy in exchange for an apple pie. Steve had told him about the orange blossom cookies Bucky’s mother would make. Usually Steve and Bucky were joined at the hip, but on orange blossom days, Bucky and Becca would stick to their mother’s side. Steve would usually hang around and enjoy the fresh orange smell. I used a couple favors to track down an old fashioned orange blossom cookie recipe. I changed it up to fit Bucky’s description of a good cookie (don’t worry; he can be pretty critical.)

“Damn hothead. The whole building smells like an orange. What are you making?” Tony asked. He funded my Friday

baking extravaganza as long as he got his ‘blueberry stuff.’

“I’m making orange blossom cookies, Tony. Orange. Blossom. The kitchen is sticky, so I couldn't come any closer.”

“The kitchen? The whole thing? How did you manage to get orange juice everywhere?”

“I’m the one baking. What did you expe- oh hey guys. Y’all are back early. What are you doing here so early?”

Steve, Sam, and Bucky shuffled their soaking wet bodies onto the dining room rug. “Rain. Apparently, the weather station is as bad as it was in the 40s.”

Tony switches his concern from the sticky kitchen to the soaked rug, but Bucky steps into the kitchen.

“Whatcha makin, doll?”

“Uh, just some cookies. Go get dried off and you can help me if you want.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Bucky hurries down the hall. His heavy steps down the hall gives Steve enough cover to slip into the kitchen behind me.

“Bucky loves orange blossom cookies. It was one of the only things that could separate us. I know you’re good at guessing, but how did you end up hitting the nail on the head?”

I could only smile. Steve was a smart guy, but he could get pretty boy syndrome sometimes.

“A little red bird happened to mention something to me. A few favors later and I was presented with the finest orange blossom cookie recipe in the Northeast.”

“I see. I guess I should’ve known the master baker could get whatever they want with the promise of a home baked pie or honey butter croissants. I’ll keep that in mind next time you need something. I’ll see you two around.”

With Steve’s departure, Bucky slides right next to me, hip to hip. He’s only wearing some classic grey sweatpants and the tee shirt I embroidered a chibi Bucky onto. His hair is pulled back into a bun, still dripping water onto the nape of his neck. At this distance, I can admire Bucky’s baby blue eyes and his 5 o’clock shadow. Once Bucky got back from Wakanda, he cut his hair short and shaved his beard, but recently, he’s been working towards the white wolf look.

“Alright, doll. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Oh okay. Uh, I’ve got all the ingredients prepared for baking. Let me check the recipe.” I go to grab the sheet of notebook paper that I scribbled the recipe down on, but Bucky gets to it before I do. He studies the paper hard. His brows scrunch together and his lip between his teeth. His metal arm falls around me and brings us shoulder to shoulder. At this proximity I can tell Bucky spritzed a little cologne on. The refreshing smell of pine and eucalyptus cuts through the overwhelming smell of oranges.

“This recipe is shit. What if I told you I know a better one?”

“Oh um well then I’d say take the lead. I hope I’ve got everything you need.”

“You’re everything I need sugar, but this stuff should be good.”

I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “Let's start by making the wet mix and then we’ll slowly add the dry ingredients in.”

Baking with Bucky is a dangerous game. We work well in the kitchen, but Bucky’s hands tend to wander. Resting on my lower back, brushing my thigh, standing close enough that I could feel his warm breath on my neck. By this point, my face is flush enough to cook these cookies, but the cookies are already in the oven. Maybe next time.

“Lookin’ beautiful, dollface. The cookies are looking pretty good too. They gotta rest a bit. We can work on the glaze now.”

Oh god. Things got saucy with the glaze. Not only did Bucky wiggle his eyebrows and point to the glaze in an inappropriate manner, but he was very handsy. We basically recreated that one dirty dancing scene with the kitchenaid. It didn’t help that Tony walked into the kitchen halfway through our romantic mixing. He had quite a lot to say: tinman and hothead, the cold and the hot, opposites attracting. You get the bit.

“Doll, I think this is the best glaze I’ve ever seen. We make quite the pair.”

“I’d have to agree with you there. I wonder what else we could get into.”

I realize what I said too late. His eyes grow wide and his smirk stretches from cheek to cheek. “Is that so, doll? I would love to work with you some more. Cooking dinner, dodgeball, go karts. Maybe some f-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be best friends with Steve? Like two peas in a pod? I wouldn’t want to upset Steve. That just doesn’t seem right. A disrespect to America. America’s ass, you know? A disrespect.”

That shuts him up.

“You look at Steve’s ass?”

“Well, yes. I mean no! I don’t look. I mean it’s a nice butt, you have to agree, but I wouldn’t know since I don’t look. I do not look at Steve’s ass.”

“Oooooo. You look at Steve’s ass. No wonder you zone out during meetings so much. All that cake bouncing around. Is that why you bake? Trying to recreate that dump truck? Do you look at other people’s ass? Do you look at my ass?”

“Bucky! I- I just know a good ass when I see one okay?”

“Well, what about my ass? Whose is better: mine or Sam’s? I know you’ve looked.”

Christ on a cracker this man is gonna kill me. “Bucky, y’all both have nice asses okay. Steve has the ass. You have the thighs. Sam has the pecs. It's as simple as that, okay? Why don’t we invite everyone down to try these cookies”

“Whatever you say, angel.”

Once everyone made it to the kitchen, we fixed everything up nice and served them to the rest of the family. They were an overall hit. Tony loved them because he’s a hardass, but Rhodes would’ve liked them just a bit softer. Thor enjoyed them with milk. Natasha made quite a few comments about how silky smooth the glaze was and how it complimented the cookie perfectly.

Once everyone was served and sent on their way, Bucky and I sat down to try our creation. I set our plates and meet Bucky in the common room. We cuddled up hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder in the common room to enjoy our cookies and begin a movie.

“You know, my mother used to make orange blossom cookies when I was young.” I looked up to Bucky’s face. I could see all the emotions. Pain. Happiness. Nostalgia. “My sister and I would always help her cook them. It was damn near impossible to come by an orange back in the day so sometimes we’d use other citruses. Orange was always the best. There was one time Becca had gotten some flowers from a sailor visiting from down south. The flowers were damn near dead when she brought them home. My pa told her that they would eat the flowers on their journey, so she did what she could to stick the flowers in the glaze and make pretty cookies. I wish I could remember what the flowers were.”

“I’m sorry Buck. I wish I could help.”

“No, no. I should say thank you. Coming in and smelling the orange and you telling me what you were making awoken something in me. At first, I was upset because I never got to make those cookies with my mom and sister again, but I’m glad I go the opportunity to make such sweet memories with you.” My breath was caught in my throat. I could feel the tears in my eyes and could just see the reflection of some in his. “She would’ve loved you. So strong, don’t take any shit, but so soft and gentle. You could keep me straight and make me bake cookies with you. Becca would’ve picked at you a bit to see if you’d hold, but she would’ve made you her sister quicker than I could’ve married you.”

“You want to marry me?”

“Well, doll, I love you. I’d love to spend a future together with you, but I think I should ask you to be my girl first. But I don't want you to feel pressured. Or you might like Steve or Sam or someone else. I don’t know. I don’t want to assume. You-”

I don’t you what came over me, but his lips were so sweet. They were sugary sweet from the cookie glaze, but the tartness of the orange made it refreshing. His lips felt so soft against mine; I never wanted this kiss to end.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be your girl. Only if you’ll have me.”

His smile took over his face. His lips were stretched thin and wrinkles fell beside his eyes.

“My girl. My best girl.”

[sassycassie-s-writing]

My Favorite Smile

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC/BatFam - Jason Todd/Red Hood

Rating: PG-11/T- (this one has a couple ✨swear words✨ in it lol. I don’t usually write them out, but sometimes you just gotta say what you mean)

Original Idea: X (Obsessed with this channel right now)

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) 2,182 words... it’s a longer one again. I casually wrote this in, like, two hours. @welovegroot @jason-redhood @jason-todd-squad

^^^^^

Holding his coffee and croissant, Jason looked around the crowded café for a place to sit. Every table was occupied by at least one person, and the rules of personal space in public said the couches were full, with one person sitting on either end.

His eyes fell on a table with a single occupant.

His heart stuttered to a stop. Wait… is that her? Damn, she looks good this time. He scoffed at himself. Who am I kidding? She looks good every time. Should I talk to her? Should I tell her? She didn’t believe me last time… and I don’t know if I can stand another lifetime without her… but last life we didn’t meet till I was almost fifty. I really wasn’t expecting to find her this early.

He straightened up and strode over to her table. “Excuse me, is it alright if I sit here? The café’s pretty crowded and the other tables are full.”

She looked up and Jason’s brain stopped working as she met his eyes. She was just as incredible as she always was. Thousands upon thousands of years, and he still never got over how beautiful she was. “Sure, go ahead,” she said with a smile before going back to her phone.

—

“I’m Jason, by the way,” the man said, sitting down.

I glanced back up and gave him my name in return.

He smiled. He had a handsome smile. Just looking at him… something tugged in the back of my mind. “That’s a pretty name,” he said.

My ears warmed and I looked away. “Thanks,” I muttered. I looked back at him. “Sorry if this sounds… weird—but have we met before?” I cringed but smiled. If we had…oh it’d be so embarrassing if I’d forgotten him. And a man as handsome as him—how could I have forgotten?

But a look of delight crossed his face, before being replaced by one of neutrality. “Not in this lifetime,” he replied.

“Kind of an odd way to word it,” I remarked before I could overthink whether that sounded really rude or not.

Jason’s ears turned red. “Well… yeah I guess so. Sorry.” He looked down at his coffee cup and croissant and chose to take a sip of his drink. After swallowing, he looked back up at me. “This is probably gonna sound really creepy, but please just hear me out for a few minutes. Do you believe in soulmates?”

I reached up and scratched an itch just behind my ear. “I mean… kind of? I think maybe they exist for some people, and other people could be matched equally well with multiple potential partners,” I said.

His shoulders slouched with a sigh of what might have been relief. “Thank goodness,” he said. He met my eyes. “Because… we’re soulmates. You and I. Sometimes—very rarely—two people are so destined to be together, that they’re reborn over and over to stay together throughout thousands of years’ worth of lifetimes. Sometimes we both remember, sometimes only one of us does. I don’t think there’s ever been a lifetime where neither of us remember. Besides the first, I guess. Back when we didn’t know we’d be reborn. We never look the same twice—different bodies, different backgrounds. But we always have the same soul.”

A reasonable person would have thought he was making up a really long, bad pickup line. But I stared at him with rapt attention. Like some missing puzzle piece I’d been looking for my entire life fell into place. It just sounded… right.

“How do we find each other, if we look different every time?”

He took a deep breath. “Well… when one or both of us remember, we can… kind of sense it? Kind of see it? Like, right now, I see you, but I also see every face of yours that I’ve seen across every lifetime.” He cleared his throat. “Sometimes we don’t. Find each other, I mean. The distance between where we’re born or the timing of our rebirths keep us apart. But there’s only been… three of those, if I remember right.” He laughed. “So glad you believed me this time. It would have sucked if you got a restraining order—because those are a thing now—and I had to spend this life without you.”

I leaned forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. “Tell me more,” I said.

“Where do you want me to start?”

“Um… I don’t know. The beginning? Our first life?”

He nodded. “Ancient Greece,” he said. “Like, really early in Ancient Greece’s history. The gods blessed us. Bound our souls for eternity. Your hair is actually the same color now as it was back then. Kind of a… nostalgic favorite of mine. You’re absolutely stunning every time I see you, but I have some favorites. You do too.”

I snickered. “Oh really? Like what?”

“Well… I always think you’re adorable with dimples or freckles. Green eyes are a favorite of mine too. And your current hair color is my favorite. There were also a few times where you were a little taller than me. Those were nice. You’re most comfortable to hug that way. But, without fail, every single lifetime I see your smile and I think, ‘That one. That one’s my new favorite.’” He chuckled. “As for you, you’ve told me that you like me best with brown eyes—even though you don’t like brown eyes normally. Um… you also like it when my hair is curly.” He gestured to his black hair, slightly curled, with two white curls arcing down the center of his forehead. “You told me… seven lifetimes ago? That you like me best with piercings and tattoos, but when I brought it up last lifetime you said even when I have them I still look like, and I quote, a ‘giant nerd.’”

We both laughed. Jason sighed and shook his head.

“Then again, you said that was your favorite during our pirate lifetime. And I can also say hot damn you looked good with tattoos and a big hat.”

I gasped out a laugh. “We were pirates?”

He laughed too. “Yeah. Well, you were. To start with, anyway. You and your crew were visiting my town and you, absolutely drunk, stumbled into my house. I was a carpenter that time. Thank the gods we both remembered that lifetime or I probably would have shot you. You spent half the night drunkenly blathering about how much you hated my hair when it was long the way it was and that you’d cut it off if I didn’t. The next morning, when you’d sobered up, you apologized. And I’d said it was fine. And… you asked me to come with you. I’ve spent dozens of lifetimes endlessly in love with you. So, like the lovesick fool I am and was, I said yes.

“It… was not a long lifetime. Pirates rarely made it to old age. We were both killed when a Royal Navy ship attacked us. I went down first. You told me in our next lifetime that you single-handedly killed half of that crew’s sailors in revenge even though you knew you’d see me again—because you’d been having so much fun that life and they ruined it. Eventually their captain killed you himself.” He took a bite of his croissant.

It was certainly a lot to take in. But everything he said was so vivid… I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination coming up with the images or… memories that had merely been locked away somewhere deep inside. The sea. The deck of a ship. An octopus tattoo on my left forearm, tentacles reaching to the back of my hand, a similar one on his tanned, scarred neck. Curly auburn hair, a scruffy beard. Brown leather coat and blood under his nails. Pierced ear and eyebrow. A tattoo of a mermaid with a face and wild hair that I knew must have been mine on his right thigh as we found alone time together in my cabin—a pile of leather clothes in a heap on the floor, topped by a big hat with a big feather.

I met his eyes again. “Tell me about another one.”

He smiled. “Well… there was another time I was a soldier. You remembered. I didn’t. I passed through your town on my way to report for duty, and the weather got bad. Your family owned a tavern that doubled as an inn. So, that was where I stayed. You didn’t tell me. I fell in love with you anyway. You would tell me stories and sing for me and make me food in private. When the weather improved, I went off to war and, miraculously, I survived. Even though I spent most of my time that fight thinking about you. I came back to your inn and asked you to marry me. You said yes. We were married soon after. I had to leave a lot. Fighting battles I didn’t care about. Eventually, I came home injured and dying. You held my hand and promised you’d see me soon. I thought you meant heaven or just said it to comfort me. You never told me we were endlessly-reborn soulmates.

“When I was about fifteen my next lifetime, all my memories came back. We both remembered that time, actually. When we ran into each other again we got into such a big argument about you not telling me. Literally picked up right where we left off. Two twenty-year-olds bickering like the old married couple we were. The life after I don’t remember is always a bit of a wild ride as all my memories come back. I imagine it’s similar for you. It’ll be similar for you.”

He reached across the table and took my hand. I squeezed his fingers. Our hands fit together perfectly. I wondered why I’d told him I liked him best with brown eyes when his blue eyes were absolutely gorgeous. “So… what now?” I asked.

He made a face. “Beginnings are always hard when one of us doesn’t remember. Because I have thousands of years of love for you, and you don’t even know me.” His fingers tightened around mine. “I’d like to take you out on a date, if you’ll let me.”

“Does it count as a first date?”

He smiled. It was a sad smile. “It can. It does for this life.”

“Have we… ever had children? Together?”

Jason regarded me thoughtfully. “We have,” he said. “But our bloodlines never last long. Usually we’re lucky to get great-grandchildren. We’re blessed to be together forever, but our families die off quickly. You speculated once that it’s the blessing’s attempt to make sure we’re not reborn into our own bloodline.”

“So we have no living descendants.”

“No. It’d be a little weird if we did. Like ‘Hey, kiddo, you’re our great-great-great-grandson! I know we’re younger than you but trust us!’” Jason laughed.

I could get drunk on that laugh. “I’d… I’d like to go on that date.”

He looked elated—and relieved. “Me too. I’d like to get to know you again.” He glanced around the crowded café. “What do you say we get out of here and go somewhere quiet and I can tell you more stories about our lives? You’ve always been the far superior storyteller, but I learned from the best.”

I smiled. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here. I want to hear everything.”

He helped me to my feet. I gathered my jacket, cup, and phone. “Great. I can’t wait to tell you about the time I was a magician.”

I giggled. “My place or yours?”

“Mine. I have a memento from our most recent past life that I tracked down. I’d like you to have it.”

“What is it?”

Jason didn’t answer immediately. Just held my hand as we left the café. Gotham’s overcast autumn sky was chilly. “I… I want it to be a surprise but I’m also too excited to tell you.” He bit his lower lip, staring at me. “Gah. Fine. It’s your wedding ring. I found it at an antique shop not far from where our oldest niece lived. We didn’t have any kids, last life. We didn’t meet till I was forty-nine and you were forty-three. We both decided it was too late for kids. But I had a few nieces and nephews. Our oldest niece was in charge of our estate. We died in the eighties. But I found your ring. You can use it again, eventually, if you want. Or we can get you a new one.” His face reddened. “I don’t mean to presume. But I don’t know if I can live without you this lifetime after having you for such a short time last life.”

I squeezed his hand. “Let’s try that first date first. I feel this pull toward you I can’t explain, but we’ll build up to the soulmate thing. Okay?” I smiled at him.

—

Jason couldn’t help but stare at her. Those eyes, that stunning face. This one, he thought. This smile is my favorite.

[ithinkthiswasabadidea]

We’re Going Home

Set in a future where the Nein and Vilya have defeated Vokodo, we see the people of Vo lifted from Vokodo's influence, and the Mighty Nein must do what they can to help them get home.

.

Imagine, you’re living on an island, in the village of Vo, going about your days cooking, weaving, hunting, planting, mining, giving thanks to your god Vokodo who provides everything for you.

Something clicks inside your head, like a pressure valve releasing, a snap headache rocks you before… a memory comes back. And then another, and another. You… don’t belong on this island, you were never meant to be here. You got shipwrecked, or you were stranded, or you just decided not to leave. Why would you do that?

You had a home, in Tal’Dorei, in Wildemount, in Marquet, but that was… years ago. And now you remember all of it. You remember your name, your real, full name, you remember the family and friends you left behind, you remember the home you had before arriving at this ramshackle village. You notice everyone around you shaking their heads as they have the same revelation, and then you get angry. All of this was stolen from you, by a greedy, arrogant, false god who wouldn’t allow you the dignity of keeping your own memories.

Then, through the sky comes your village leader Viridian, though, that wasn’t her name when she first arrived. It was Vilya. She’s in her wild shape, carrying someone; with her fly two great birds, they carry figures too. They… they must be the new arrivals. They broke the curse. They slew the false god.

They SAVED you.

They land, the village is ecstatic as the story is told, and then comes the doubt and worry. How will everyone get home? The group found ships, but not all on the island know how to sail, and you’re all from different corners of the world.

The group, “The Mighty Nein”, they call themselves, talk to each other through the night, discussing possibilities. The blue tiefling speaks to the air for several minutes, facial expressions switching rapidly between concern, trepidation, happiness. The human man with bright orange hair and a spark in his eye tells the village the plan: for those who cannot or do not want to travel by sea, he can teleport you over the course of a few days to different locations.

The number of you who are content with this give your permission; you will be leaving this godsforsaken island if it’s the last thing these heroes can do for you.

“It seems they’ve done it again. You’re not the first person the Mighty Nein have saved from the brink, and you certainly won’t be the last.”

.

Imagine, you’re Vilya. Youve spent a quarter of a century on this island, happily serving as Vokodo's intermediary and leading the village with your equals, Terra and Lukash. The people love you, but the love somehow can't fill your heart completely, until you awaken and the hole fills with memory of your true family. You gladly hug each member of the Mighty Nein, the small halfling woman swearing you into their party with a solemn ‘Welcome to The Mighty Nein’ and letting you know that you will always be received with open arms if you choose to return. Ever in their debt, you walk into the teleportation circle before you. You’re transported to the Tidepeak Tower in Nicodranis, a city you’re unfamiliar with in all but name, and there waiting for you are two mages, an elf in gold and a lady in blue. The elf makes a noise of quiet surprise and wonder, stating,

The lady takes you by the hand, telling you she will take you back to Tal’Dorei to reunite with your family again. You walk through her teleportation circle, you are finally led to your husband, older but still as handsome as you remember. You meet with your daughter who is all grown up and powerful, with stories and adventures of her own to share. You see all the people you’ve known and loved, and you’re introduced to ones you haven’t met before; your life is instantly enriched with their presence. You live to remember the breakers of your curse and the journey you took with them to free the village that was once a home.

.

Imagine, you’re a human sailor. You spent your time on Vo longing to be back on the ocean, trading, fighting, fishing. The wizard draws a teleportation circle to Port Damali while the monk who stares you down with mirth in her eyes hands you a signed letter and she tells you to make a good impression. You’re led to the circle by the tall barbarian and when you hesitate, she pushes you gently into the circle. You tumble out and into a room, guards quickly opening the door in shock and you shove the letter into their hands; one takes it away. You sit on the floor, tears coming to your eyes as you realise you’re finally home. The leader of the Cobalt Soul archive comes to meet you, letter in hand,

“Another friend of Expositor Beauregard? You lot always like to make your entrances, don’t you?”

You smile, now understanding why the monk looked amused at you as you left. You’re led out to the port, weak at the knees at the sights and sounds and smells of the harbour, and spend your time finding the comrades you left behind. You remember those words the Cobalt Soul archivist said to you, that you’re a friend to the Mighty Nein; you live to hope you will do them proud and some day repay them for their aid.

.

Imagine, you’re an elven merchant. You’re from Zadash, and you were on the way home from a prosperous trip to Marquet, when you stopped by this cursed island to refuel and never left. The large, kind-eyed firbolg of the group takes you aside to get to know your story and asks the tiefling to send a message to a shop owner you once knew in your city. You get confirmation that a friend will be awaiting your arrival. You take a deep breath and step through the teleportation circle, walking into the halls of the Cobalt Soul in Zadash. A face pokes their head around the door, fluffy, bespectacled, with beautiful robes. Someone you’ve sat down to tea and trade with for many years, and not for many years have you been happier to see him again. Pumat Sol takes you by the arm into a hug, chuckling and telling you,

“Respectfully, my friend, if it weren’t for the Mighty Nein, I don’t believe either of us would be here today.”

You gratefully follow your friend back through the streets of Zadash, planning your re-entry into the commerce of the city, though now you place less value in material wealth. You live to trade tales of your adventures and find, unsurprisingly, the Nein are folk heroes to the city also; many citizens attest to the bravery of the party who saved you.

.

Imagine, you’re a smith. You’re from a great line of dwarven blacksmiths and creators. You left your home to search for rare materials to make your creations and name well known across the seas. You spend your time on the island smithing tools, simple hammers and spears, tools of function. Your memories clear of the great forges of Uthodurn, and you realise you were foolish to try to make yourself famous, all you needed was a place to work, your family beside you, and the gifts the All-Hammer gave you. The tiefling and half-orc speak to each other before she send a message away to the wind. The half-orc calms your travel nerves by showing you his blade, the incredible craftsmanship is mesmerising, and familiar, your fears are forgotten. You are led to the circle and roll out into a chamber of the Steeple Archive in Uthodurn, you’ve never been inside before and it is a grand place. You’re quickly escorted outside to a city that has changed just enough to make you worried again, when a stocky figure claps you on the shoulder. You spin into the embrace of Umagorn Smeltborne and he all but picks you up, exclaiming,

“My friend! Finally you have returned, we have much work to catch up on.”

You try to explain how you are here and what has occurred but he holds up his hand to stop you.

“By the grace of the Wildmother who watches over the Nein, the All-Hammer has seen it fit to return you to us.”

You congratulate your friend on his masterpiece of a sword, and vow you will never take your home for granted again. You live to create and learn and grow in prowess, you pay your tributes to the All-Hammer, and you make ones especially for your new friends, should they ever pass through Uthodurn again.

.

Imagine, you’re a dignitary. An orc with a good ear and strong voice for negotiations. You were sent by your queen, many, many moons ago, across the seas on a mission to secure new allies. You cast your mind back to Rosohna, the sweet richness of the dark city, and the queen you have been honoured to serve in your lifetimes. You wonder who is still in her council, whether you will be trusted when you return after all this time. The blue one and the wizard come to speak to you of someone you once knew, the Dusk Captain. The tiefling carefully words her message, asking permission for you to teleport, while the wizard tries to update you on the situation from your homeland. When the circle is ready, you steel yourself and march through, blessedly arriving in the Lucid Bastion. You take a knee, thanking the Luxon for bringing you home, finally. As you rise, you are greeted by the Captain, smiling to see a long-feared-dead member of the council back and well. As she walks with you through the halls, she recounts the changes in the Kryn Dynasty, culminating with the wizard and his friends who held up their missing beacon in front of the queen, and gave them new hope.

“We feared you dead, with no way to come back through the Luxon. The Mighty Nein have assured you your soul in this life and the next.”

You frown, realising the wizard and the group conveniently forgot to mention they were also heroes of the Dynasty. You are confident they shall return to Rosohna, and add your voice to those who reverently bless their coming to the Dynasty. You live to return to your position and help write the new history of the Dynasty, about the aid of the group who gave back your voice.

 .

Connected by land and by sea, The Mighty Nein continue to shape the lives of the people of Exandria. The Nein will bend the knee for kings and queens and nobles, they bow their heads under the gaze of gods and false gods alike, they take their orders to do what they can to better the lives of others.

But at the end of the day, a druid in a far off land, a sailor in Port Damali, a merchant, a smith, a dignitary, a farmer, a smuggler, a Crownsguard, a carnival master, an inventor, a half-dragonborn, a mage, a kenku, a stone giant, a family of clay and dust and stone…

They look to the stars and count their blessings of the people who have irrevocably touched their lives.

[writing-fanics]

[ Mamoru x Fem!Reader ]

•Legend of the Forgotten Moon Princess•

[Part III] Mamoru and Y/n

a/n: in this chapter y/n and mamoru spend sometime together getting to know each-other a bit more...]

so complete of season one follows the manga the next part of the story will be season ii cause i really like that season.. but for the final battle im doing the show version with a twist at the end.... so im taking out the manga version of the reincarnation and having the tv show version instead since that one is more impactful and i like it more. 

[ Finding Sailor Jupiter ] 

[Y/n] was at the Crown Game Center, with Usagi, Ami, and Makoto. The new transfer student in Class 6,  [Y/n] watches Makoto play the Sailor V, game. 

"You sure you’ve never played this game before?” Usagi asks, Makoto.

”it’s the same as fighting in real life.” Makoto says, to her.

”you let the bad guy chase you so you can catch him off guard, then you hit him with your ultimate attack!” She says, as she plays the game.

”Ultimate attack!” Usagi says, in awe.

”Hi Usagi! Y/n! You’re here early today.” Ami says, as she walks towards them.

”Oh! Hi, Ami!” Both Y/n and, Usagi say. Looking towards her.

”Have you met the new girl yet? She just transferred into, Class 6 today.” Usagi says, to her.

“I’m Makoto Kino,” she says, looking over at Ami.

”I’m Ami Mizuno. I go to Juban, too. It’s so nice to meet you.” She says, to Makoto.

"Nice to meet you too." Makoto says, looking at the game. Then Motoki came over, "Hey Usagi! So are all the girls you're friends with cute." He says, and he looks and sees Makoto who turns her head and, looks at him. A blush spread across her cheeks, 

"Its...you." She says, quietly looking at him. Then the sound of game over interrupted them, she turned back towards the screen. 

"Oh! Nothing I thought you were someone else.." She says, looking back at them game.

[TIme-Skip] to bridal shop cause this bitch lazy.. 

"Well this is the bridal shop he was talking about." Ami says, as the girls look at it. 

"It's also the same one Naru went to." Usagi says, looking at it.

"Where's Mako?" She says, looking around and sees her looking up at the shop, with a blush spread across her face. She sees a dress and, looks at it. 

"So gorgeous. I wish I could wear a dress like that." Mako says, to herself.

As two girls pass by, "See thats the bridal shop." One girl says, pointing to it. 

"You mean that's the shop thats cursed?" the girl beside her asks. 

"That's right! Sometimes people see it! That ghost bride." [Y/n] says, looking at the shop.

"The mannequin on the balcony wanders around at night, trying to seduce the male-passers by Everybody! says so." She says, to them. 

"And if you buy a dress from the shop, you become cursed by the ghost bride. and spend your life in misery." She says, looking at the shop. 

"Whaa? Well, when I do get engaged, I'm not going to go there for a dress." Mako thinks, to herself. The girls, make their way towards Rei's. 

Rei looks at Makoto and, feeling a powerful presence from her. All the girls catch Rei up, on the bridal shop. 

"A cursed bridal shop? The ghost of a bride? Yes, it is suspicious." Rei says, to her friends.

"That groom who went missing...I wonder if he was seduced by that ghost bride?" Ami says, to herself. 

"If he was, he's got no-one to blame but himself for being lured in by a ghost." Rei says, her arms folded. Makoto then turn back towards the girls, 

"This is all too complex for me. I'm going home." Makoto says, to the girls then leaves. And, as she does Luna, jumps up onto Rei's, shoulder. 

"Luna.." Rei says, looking towards Makoto...

"Yes.." Luna says, as she looks up at Rei. 

"The day we're all assembled might be sooner than we think." Rei says, watching as Makoto walks away.. 

[Y/n] was fast asleep, in her bed when all of a sudden Tuxedo Mask, appears at her window. She gasps and, watches as he runs away. She rushes out of bed and, follows him. Atlas notices and, notifies everyone. 

"Ami-Chan, Rei-Chan, Usagi-Chan, Wake up! Tuxedo Mask is leading Y/n-Chan away!" Atlas shouts, into the watch..[Y/n] arrives at the Bridal Shop from before, and gasps seeing Makoto. Everyone else, arrives and transforms. Seeing the ghost bride, 

'Lunar Prism Power! Make-Up!' She shouts, as she transforms into Sailor Luna. And, everyone else into their own respective guardian. 

"Stealing the sacred form of the blushing bride and whispering of love! We wont stand for it!" Sailor Moon, shouts at the ghost bride.

"I'm the Sailor Guardian, Sailor Luna. Who fights for the stars and, the moon above." 

"I'm the pretty guardian sailor moon who fights for love, and for justice.." 

"And, I'm the Sailor Guardian Sailor Mercury." 

"And I'm, the Sailor Guardian Sailor Mars.." 

"And we'll punish you" 

They say..

"You were controlling and tricking people?" Makoto says, looking at the ghost bride. 

"You mean you were serious damn it.." She says, as a symbol appears on her forehead. 

"I'll let you know about a woman's pure feelings with raw strength." She says, picking up the ghost bride, then she suddenly transforms into Sailor Jupiter. 

"Flower Hurricane!" She shouts, as a flower hurricane appears. "Jupiter, the planet I guard, bring a storm!! And down your thunder!" She shouts, at Nephrite. 

"Jupiter Thunder-bolt!" She shouts, as a thunderbolt strikes Nephrite killing him...Makoto falls to the ground, and all the girls run towards her to see if she's okay and, she was. And, Luna tells her that she's Sailor Jupiter..

- sorry for it being terrible and short i was using the manga' 

[ time skip ] y/n's off doing her own thing she has work to do..

[Y/n] sighed, as she looked at the papers scattered on her desk. [Y/n] wrote down stuff, from her textbook down onto the paper. She looks down and, groans. She barely got any sleep last night, since she was up all night just, working on this and, was tired really tired. 

She sighs and, decides to take a break. She makes some coffee and, decides to go out for a walk. Not knowing about what was happening outside, after walking for about ten minutes, she began to feel dizzy.

'My head is all fuzzy and, my strength is going... ugh what's going on?' She says and, she begins to fall to the ground. 

'Must be the work of the enemy..' She thinks, as she falls to the ground. 

Mamoru rounds the corner and, sees [Y/n] lying on the ground unconscious. He runs towards her, quickly checking for a pulse. He brings his hand to her cheek, "Hey! Snap out of it." He says, to her. And, she stirs awake looking him in the eyes, but seeing Tuxedo Mask. 

"Tuxedo Mask!" She says, in amazement looking at him. 

"What are you doing here?" She asks, as her cheeks turn red.

"My bad judgement and actions brought us to this point." He says, to her and, she looks at him in shock. 

"Tuxedo Mask! So this whole situation was your.... You did it are you actually?" She asks, worried. 

"No, I'm not! I didn't mean for this to happen! I wanted to find the Legendary Silver Crystal no matter the cost. But I didn't have any information to work on!" He says, looking at her.

"And I don't have powers like you do!" He says, to her. And she gasps, 

"You must transform into Sailor Luna! I can't do anything about this situation myself at this point." He says, and, she gasps once more. 

"Y-You know I'm Sailor Luna.. Just who in the world are you?" She asks, looking him in the eyes. 

"You're the only one who can come to the rescue." He says, to her. And she looks him, in the eyes. Those familiar eyes, that would seem that she sees everymorning. 

[Y/n] stands up and, places her hands on her brooch. 

'Lunar Prism Power Make-Up!' 

[Y/n] then makes, her way to where everyone else, was...She gasps, seeing so many people, lying on the ground she didn't know if they were dead or just unconscious. Even though she's seen stuff from the enemy, nothing to this extent. She was scared nervous, what if she couldn't bring anyone back... 

But then she felt a pair of arms wrap around her, "Snap out of it Sailor Luna! I know you can do it." Tuxedo Mask, said to her as tears ran down her cheeks. Then a stick appeared and, it was in the shape of a star. She takes it in her hands, "Please! Take everybody.. and give them back their lives! Please!" She shouts, holding the stick.. 

And, after she did and, everyone was waking up. She suddenly felt sleepy and, went limp. "Sailor Luna?" He says, grabbing hold of her, before she hit the ground. 

"You used too much power?" He says, looking down at her. A smile, spread across his face as he looks at her. He tucks, a strand of hair behind her ear. 

"But well done.. Sailor Luna." He says, to her as he picks her up bridal style. 

'What is this?' 

"This familiar warmth..' 

"It's as if this warmth is giving me back my energy'

As he places her on the his bed, he looks at her. She seemed so at peace, even though using up so much power and energy during that fight. 

[Time-Skip] 

[Y/n] woke up, in an unfamiliar place. She looked around, she was lying in someone else's bed. 'Where.. am I?" she says, as she looks around. She looks down and, sees a pocket watch. She looks at it and, sees that it has the phases of the moon on it. 

"So you're awake?" Mamoru says, as he looks over at [Y/n] who looks, over at him. Then she looks at the suit he was wearing, 

"Why are you Tuxedo Mask...?" She asks, looking at him. 

"It's for my memory. That's why I have to get my hands on the Legendary Silver Crystal." He says, to her and, she looks at him.

"Your memory?" She asks, looking into his eyes. 

"I lost my parents, on my sixth birthday. There was a car accident and, I lost both of my parents. And, I forgot who I was." He says and, [Y/n] gasps tears running down her cheeks. 

"And, I started having the same dream over and over. Find the Legendary Silver Crystal.. Just that phase. time and time again in my dreams." He says and, she looks at him. 

"And before I knew it... I was stealing through the city at night like some strange sleep-walker! Wearing a tuxedo like some phantom thief." He says, 

"The only clue to my past, are the word find the legendary silver crystal." He says, 

"What about you?" He asks and, she blushes looking down. 

"Um... Well it isn't so quite defined Atlas told me to find it alongside Sailor Moon, and protect it, so.." She says, blushing. 

"I see." He says and, she looks at him curiosly. 

[Y/n] brought the mask closer to his face, placing it over his eyes. She should've known, that all to familiar voice that she heard, every morning. Those all to familiar eyes she'd, get lost in. Even though she only lives a few doors down the hall. This moment in time between them felt like, they've met this way before but in different circumstances. But at this moment, if time were to stop she wouldn't mind at all. 

She looked down nervously, her heart racing. "A-Atlas is waiting for me. I... have to go home." She says, turning to leave but stops, when Mamoru place his hand, on her shoulder. Her heart pounding against her chest, "N/n." He says, and she turns around to look at him. 

A blush spread across her face, "N/n. Your bag." He says, and she nervously takes it from him. Covering her face with it, as her face turned bright red. She walks towards the door, and leaves. 

'...He called me "N/n" That's who he said.' She says, thinking to herself as she walks down the hallway to her apartment, her heart racing as she thinks of him. 

'Maybe I could call him "Since he's Mamoru, maybe I can call him Mamo-Chan.' She thinks, stopping outside her door. She reaches, into her pocket. And pulls out Mamoru's broken pocket watch, 

'I brought it with me... his broken pocket watch.' she stares at it, bringing it to her lips and kissing it. This all too familiar warmth returning once more, but stronger than ever before. [Y/n] has never fallen in love before, but this moment was completely different, she feels like she already knows him. 

He's opened up to her, he trusts her enough to tell her why he's going after the Legendary Silver Crystal. That moment, between them just moments ago. Felt as if they were in a fairy tale, as if they were two lovers. Finding out each-other's secret identities,  a fairy tale she wanted to be in. 

She never thought she'd fall in love so quickly, but it doesn't feel wrong. Not one bit, for to her it feels like she's falling in love with him all over again. As if she knew him from as past life. She looked up, hearing that voice once more. 

'You're my one and only love.' 

She walked into her apartment and, sighed as she thought of Mamoru. She brought her hand up to her face, her face bright red. A smile spread across her face, as she looked at the broken pocket watch. She held it close to her chest, holding it over her heart. 

'Is this what being in love is like?' 

{ Chapter Four } Princess Serenity and Princess Y/n  Sneak Peek

And how Mamoru noticed, how shaken and scared she was. When they tried to talk to her, [Y/n]'s face turns red, as she feels Mamoru's hand on hers. "Are you okay?" He asks, and she looks down, then at him. Her heart racing, pounding against her chest. "Yeah, I'm fine Mamo. Just seeing them, after all those years startled me." She says, looking up at him, smiling. 

They close the gap between them, their lips touching. [Y/n]'s hand places her hands, on Mamoru's chest. This kiss between them, felt magical familiar as if, out of a fairy tale. Mamoru places his hands, on her waist. She didn't want, this moment between them to stop. 

He weakly brings his hands up, looking at [Y/n] who looked down at him worried, tears in her eyes. 'I remember now, I came back to be with you again. I found you, Y/n." He says, his hand going limp.

"My...Star." He says, and [Y/n] looks down at him in shock, tears streaming down her cheeks. [Y/n] shakes her head, and screams in anguish. As she wraps her arms around Mamoru, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

[moonbeamsung]

Sink or Swim

You plunged deep into an ocean of love for Huang Renjun, the boy who had already fallen for the sea itself.

member: renjun

au: sailor!renjun x gn!reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: angst, fluff, slightly dystopian

warnings: character death/drowning, mentions of water (one passing mention of a typhoon and a very heavy focus on the ocean), light profanity

recommended song: when i was older by billie eilish

author’s note: Not only did the lyrics to the above song inspire this fic, but so did the general mood and sound of it :) I would recommend listening while you read, since I think it really adds to the atmosphere. My creativity took quite a while to cooperate on this one but I like how it turned out and hope you do as well, feedback is highly appreciated as always. Thanks to @astroboy-lele for her help beta-reading this (like 2 hours ago), and enjoy!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @hunjins​

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet 

The sleepy little fishing village you call home seems to sigh with the tides, waves lapping at the shore in a rhythm not unlike that of steady breaths. It’s the world’s way of inhaling the salty air, sometimes laced with the pungent scent of a fresh catch.

The sport itself is a life force here, the key to any sort of contact with the rest of civilization. Without it, the hill that the small town is nestled into might just swallow up the dozens of small brick buildings, reducing them to nothing but a memory. The murky waters would carry minuscule traces of its existence far and wide, but not even a name could break the surface.

Unfortunately, the village’s dependence on exporting fish leaves little room for the personal aspirations of its residents. At some point in your life, you’ll be called to assist with a certain aspect of the product’s distribution. The elders in charge find ways for even the most unskilled of hand and mind to participate, but they always save the hardest work for those who were born into it: the sailing families.

Quite literally, a love of the sea is in Huang Renjun’s blood.

His great-grandfather was around to see the beginnings of the seaside community, and he became the most famous fisherman known to the village by returning to the docks with large nets in tow, just bursting with sharp fins and thrashing tails. Those were the glory days, and generations later, the Huangs want their young son to follow in his footsteps, to become just as well-known for legendary angling expeditions.

But... he’s not really interested.

He would much rather take to the waves in a boat and chase the horizon, not bothering with casting a net or even a rod. To him, the ocean air is beyond suffocating, like a poison meant to expel any wanderlust from his lungs, to rip it from his soul. Renjun is a fiery spirit, and not even the crashing, slate-colored waters can dampen the adventurous spark burning bright and warm inside of him. It would take more than a typhoon to do so.

You admire that about him, too. How he holds a strong but steady resistance to the traditions of the village, the limited and meager expanse of the world that you’ve both lived in—no, been confined to—all your life.

Just think of the endless possibilities that await, beyond the hazy fog obscuring the fine line between land and sea. The faint shapes that loom in the distance, perhaps a trick of the eye but perhaps another sign of life besides you, seem so close but are still just out of your reach, teasing you both with what could lie outside this languid, ashen realm. Your heart races at the mere notion of such a thing.

The waves are impossibly blue when their image is reflected in Renjun’s dark eyes; you notice this one dreary afternoon as you let your feet dangle above the gentle ripples, sitting at the edge of one of the many docks that tangle through a mess of sailboats and fishing gear. The burnt orange of his threaded sweater stands out against the rest of the scenery, so monochromatic you sometimes swear the world is black and white.

He’s a splash of color, a splash of adventure and determination among a colorless mass of villagers who wouldn’t trade the way things are right now for anything. The dull, scuffed toes of his boots drag along the wooden planks as he trudges towards you, settling down at your side with a small gust of wind. Both anticipating and dreading the impending day when his father would teach him how to take to the seas and steer the boat that’s run in his family for generations, Renjun finds himself at the humble and rickety marina often. Anticipating because that knowledge would enable him to change the course of his own life on his own terms, and dreading because he knew of the harsh disapproval those actions would receive.

But still, Renjun stays right there on the dock next to you, diving past the shallows of his conscious mind and into the darkest, deepest abyss of his own thoughts, letting them bubble and sputter up and puff into the air like sea spray. If both your hearts are oceans of their own, they collide in this moment, as his ambitions and aspirations spill over into yours and settle on the seabed below. He’s chosen you to entrust these secrets with. You, the only other resident of the village with a familiar restlessness in your eyes when the sun disappears below the distant horizon, gaze wistful and longing to do the same.

And as if they’re the precious riches of a mythical swashbuckling pirate, you keep them there, each word a golden coin or sparkling gem hidden away in a long-lost treasure chest. The twilight sky that evening is the most vivid you’ve ever seen it, and daylight is fading fast by the time Renjun finishes telling you everything.

“I never knew there was someone who felt the same way I did about all this.”

The realization sets in late, just as the weathered surface you’re both perched on sways in the wind. You fear for a second that you might slip forward into the icy water; that’s how strong the breeze whipping through the air around you feels. That, or it’s due to the sheer force from your heart as it swells at finally meeting someone you’ve admired from afar for what feels like an eternity, ever since you understood what life was like and what it meant for you here.

Sure, Renjun’s grandfather may have been well-known in the past for one reason, but to you, Renjun is creating a legacy of his own for another, one of more than just adolescent rebellion and defiance. It’s one of undoubtable self-awareness, of an adamant refusal to conform to an existence he hadn’t chosen, and he’s finding a way to alter what he’s been seemingly destined for all his life.

“Me neither,” you shake your head, still in a small fraction of euphoric disbelief. “All that’s left to do now is stow away on a ship together in the dead of night, I suppose.” The comment is joking, but he takes it more seriously than you anticipated. The cloudy sky above brightens with his eyes.

You convene in shadowy alleys when no one’s looking, wasting away the hours as you mutually yearn for just a sliver of knowledge of the unknown, enthralled by the waves in the distance and what lies below and above and beside. Renjun sometimes whisks you away to a steep overlook that provides a panoramic view of the beach, the powdery sand so far beneath your bare feet gray enough to pass for finely packed pebbles. You find yourself melting into his embrace like the sea melts into the sky, blurring the already thin lines between air and water and between friendship and love. The way his fingers encircle your wrist with a curl like that of a cresting wave is telling enough on its own. His heart belongs to two bodies now.

You can’t help but notice all the similarities he bears to the element you’ve never lived a day of your life without seeing, without hearing the undulations of, without smelling or tasting the salty tang it brings to the air. Always moving, a force to be reckoned with, and evidently a possessor of the ability to travel far and wide on even the most fleeting of whims.

He’s utterly himself around the water, too. You’re almost positive he could effortlessly duck beneath the surface, take a breath, and his lungs would drink it in as if it was air. The only place he doesn’t feel like drowning is below the waves.

“Look!” Renjun points out an unfamiliar vessel tied down at the far end of the pier one day, sails torn in jagged lines as if they had been slashed by a larger-than-life creature. Upon closer examination, you find that the wooden bow of the sailboat is splintering and the windows into the cabin are shattered. The name carved into the hull is simply too faded for you to decipher the letters.

“This boat must’ve gone through hell and back,” you comment, your response delayed like an echo. “Who do you think it belongs to, anyway?”

He’s lost within a symphony of thoughts before he answers, “No one.”

Both incredulous and doubtful, you whip around to meet Renjun’s assured gaze. “No one ever comes and no one ever goes, it’s that simple. These same boats have been docked for years. They’ve belonged to the same families one decade after another.” The boy sighs, scanning the horizon for anything that might appear the slightest bit unusual. “The real question is where it came from.”

You have no answer for him.

“Regardless,” he speaks up again, quite matter of factly, “It’s ours now.”

“Ours?”

“Yes, ours. You said you’d sail away with me, right?”

It certainly isn’t the aspiration you would have envisioned yourself pursuing. You could have chosen to quietly obey, to live and work exactly as you were told by a community so rigid that you felt frozen to the bone. Not like the pleasant chill of the ocean, rather a restrictive pair of icy shackles, ever-tightening around your limbs and subduing your mutinous thoughts. But here you are, longing for a little something more both in life and with the only person that understands your heart’s deepest desires like they’re his own. And at their core, they are.

Without fear, Renjun takes a confident stride onto the boat’s deck, turning back to you and offering his hand as you mimic the action. “What are you waiting for?” He asks, eyes twinkling.

A warm thrill courses through your veins, growing hotter with each small preparation you make towards your inevitable departure. It’s an affair of many weeks, but at last you’ve gathered all of the necessary supplies and courage to carry out your plan.

The day finally comes, the day you’ll spring into action and take hold of your futures by the ropes, no one but yourselves telling you how or where to steer.

On the most moonlit night you’ve ever been alive to witness, you and Renjun both slip out from underneath your fraying comforters, unbeknownst to the rest of your households. Save for your two restless souls, the entire village is sound asleep, the unceasing lullaby of the tides casting its steadfast spell on bodies and minds like clockwork. Wooden floors so hollow and dusty that they barely creak under your weight, you successfully glide out your respective front doors in silence like translucent spirits.

No one else in the village had even acknowledged the foreign ship’s presence, but this shouldn’t surprise you, not in the slightest. The thick, colorless fog of life had long since settled around the shoulders of anyone and everyone who allowed it to, ensnaring them in a mind-numbing, monotonous routine. It blocks out the sun and the rain, the light and the darkness. It’s all so sickeningly the same. Empty eyes can’t pay any mind to their surroundings. Meanwhile, yours are full of hope, the brightest in the land.

In the distance, Renjun appears as vibrant and sprightly as ever. His form cascades down a flight of stone steps, leading from the sheer hills clustered with homes onto sea-level ground, and glides over the small dunes of sand separating you. He reaches the edge of the beach and your side a minute later, the thump of his heart keeping time with the tides. A nod, and you’re sprinting towards the docks, fingers trembling in excited anticipation.

It isn’t until after you’ve clumsily set sail that you see the ominous shadows of dark clouds laid out ahead, directly in your path. Even in the dead of night, a flash of distant lightning illuminates the world in a harshly jagged blaze for as far as the eye can see, as it strikes some unknown location out in front of the sailboat.

You’re certain the repairs you’ve spent days and nights working on with Renjun will be enough to keep the ship intact, despite the weather you’re sure to endure if you continue on this route. So you press on, missing the apprehension furrowing his eyebrows.

But because every force of nature has decided to convene against you both for reasons eternally unknown, the harsh winds weave their way in between the threads your careful hands had stitched on the canvas, meant to catch the breeze but being torn apart by it instead. Suddenly you’re struggling to hold on to your balance and you feel as flimsy as a leaf in a blustering current of cold, crisp wind.

Perhaps you should have practiced first. Renjun had not yet received a single ounce of training from his experienced father, and it was far from wise to leave the only life you’ve ever known without any knowledge of how to get to your next one. He’s trying to hide his panic now, wavering between the steering controls and warily glancing up at the gloomy midnight sky. One more flash of lightning, and all goes awry, all at once.

The water around you surges, as if physically drawn to the heavens, and more falls from above. Raindrops pelt down onto your arms and soak your hair, drenching the sails and filling the shallow hull almost instantly. Wave after towering wave crashes down, hard, and you’re no longer certain which way is up. About to lose your footing, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle like the snug hold of a life preserver.

Before all vitality can be lost and smothered by the raging ocean, a desperate Renjun holds fast to you, your thin clothes clinging to the damp skin of his hands. The storm is just too much, and there’s no way you’ll see the journey through like you had hoped. It’s difficult, excruciating even, to accept, and even more difficult for Renjun to let go of you like this. He’ll fight until the end, fight the fates and the invisible forces that life entails to hold you for just a few more seconds.

He won’t be able to live with himself, even in whatever afterlife may or may not come after the darkness he already sees, feels closing in on him, if he doesn’t sacrifice his last breath for a final moment of bliss, of you.

The sensation of Renjun’s wan lips pressing into yours overwhelms and surpasses all others, his palms tracing the edges of your figure like the tides trace the sandy shore. Urgently he draws you close up against him, trying his best to shield you from the inescapable terror of the sea. A lifetime’s worth of energy and emotion and passion is expended, making up for all the time in the world he wouldn’t and couldn’t have. The tang of saltwater meets your tongue, and you’re not sure if it’s the taste of him or of the ocean.

A weak tug on your palpitating heart, an internal scream in your ringing ears tells you that you should resent him for this, for propelling you forward in your apparently unachievable fantasies of living the life you wanted for yourself. But you don’t, you can’t. It’s no one’s fault, really. With this thought, a peaceful stillness washes over you amidst the chaos, and your awareness of the boy in your embrace fades steadily, slowly, then rapidly. Reality is getting paler, more black and white than ever, and you’re sinking further and further down towards the ocean floor miles below. The faint light of the moon becomes distorted from underneath the water, blurring with your failing vision. It all slips away, and then there’s nothing.

It’s a shame no one in the village takes notice of the two extra stars that blink into existence on that moonlit night, but yours and Renjun’s souls take their place among the rest, both a warning and a calling to anyone who dared attempt what you did. Two guiding lights pointing any other dreamers towards the hope of a better, brighter future.

[smeraldos]

Love by Daylight (1/2)

➸ characters: Seokjin x Reader

➸ genres: Sailor Moon!AU, fluff, sort of e2l

➸ tags: sly friends, petty enemies/secret crushes, running away from the mortifying ordeal of being known

➸ words: 2K+

➸ summary: The day you find out who your suave partner in saving the world is, you're absolutely, positively, without a doubt sure you'll be over the moon. You'll be so happy you'll think you're dreaming. Turns out you're right. You do think you're dreaming. Because this? This can't be real. You're being pranked. Someone, somewhere, is going to jump out and say you're on Candid Camera. (Please.)

>> PART 2

When the lights fade and the facades fall, this is what you’re left with: Tuxedo Mask without a mask, you without your moonlit glamor. Tux the civilian is handsome, you can tell, and this is it—the moment you’ve been waiting for.

He lifts his face.

The youma's words come rushing back: Let the truth be known, the city’s deepest secrets shown.

Tuxedo Mask is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Suddenly, you’re reminded of a crystalline city; people bowing before you; Seokjin taking your hand, your matching rings gleaming in the light. Was it a memory or a dream?

You stand there, dumbfounded, until Tux/Seokjin dons his mask and brushes past. “Come on, Sailor Moon,” he says, sensible enough to use your alias. “The coast is clear. We’ve got a fight to finish.”

☾

“Why does it have to be Seokjin?" You whine, collapsing into bed and disturbing your sleeping cat. (In your defense, he was on your pillow. Which you’ve told him numerous times not to lay down on because his fur would shed.) Luckily, Agust is acquainted with your dramatic side and simply gets up to move.

“Well, why do you have to be Sailor Moon?” He points out. “It could have been someone less bothersome.”

“Hey,” you retaliate. “You’re the one who came to me. You could have given anyone the Lunar Key.”

“I didn't have a choice.”

“What do you mean you didn’t? You could have walked away and picked someone better, just like that.”

He scoffs. “Not when it’s the Queen.”

“Queen-schmeen." You flop back onto your bed, the springs creaking in protest. "I bet Her Royal Highness is on her throne right now, all nice and comfy. She couldn't care less."

Agust doesn't reply.

At first, you think it's because you've won and nothing else can be said, but when the silence stretches on, you know something is off. You sit up to see Agust no longer curled into himself, but sitting. He stares out your window into the night, his normally keen eyes empty. "She's dead."

Judging by his somber tone, she'd meant a lot to him. "I'm sorry," you whisper.

Agust sighs. "No need to apologize, kid. She was your mother, after all."

"My mother?"

"Not now," he amends. "But she was a long time ago, when you were the princess of the moon and Seokjin the prince of the earth.”

☾

The next morning, you head to school on time.

Your mom—present day mom—was surprised to see you up early, and Jeongguk called you out like the bratty brother he was (wow, no morning run today?), but the truth was you couldn’t sleep.

Last night, Agust recounted your past, how the dark eclipsed the moon. Although the queen tried her best to protect the kingdom, it was to no avail. Seokjin died in the fray, and you fell shortly after, helpless to save your beloved. In the end, the queen sacrificed herself to give you and Seokjin another chance at love, her people another chance at happiness.

A chance to rebuild the Silver Millennium.

The thing was, you didn’t know if that was what you wanted. Not that you’d want the Dark Kingdom to reign, but you weren’t sure whether you wanted to rule in your mother’s stead. Or marry Seokjin. Past you might have wanted to, but the you now could barely stand him. And neither could he. Or so you thought. You’d gotten along just fine with Tuxedo Mask, even grown a crush, but that wasn’t enough to warrant a marriage.

“Hello? Veen to Selene*?” Someone nudges your shoulder, and with a start, you notice Mina looking at you in concern.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“Nothing yet, but it looks like you’ve got something on your mind. What’s up?”

You’re about to tell her when you see Seokjin approaching, his uniform blazer neatly pressed.

��Morning, ______,” Seokjin says. “Mina.”

“Morning,” you reply, ready for whatever biting remark he’d say next. But once Namjoon comes up, he leaves. That's it.

Even Mina, who hardly sees the two of you interact, notices. "That's the first time I've seen you guys polite. It's weird. What happened?"

After a discreet look around, you grab her by the elbow. “He's Tux,” you hiss, but Mina doesn’t look the least bit shocked. Her face breaks out into a giddy grin, like a child who’s finally tall enough to get on the big kid ride.

“You knew?” You ask, a little hurt she didn’t tell you.

She pouts, squishing your cheeks together. “Don’t be mad. You don't know how hard it was to keep it a secret.”

◑

You don't blame Mina, for the most part. It would have been better if you hadn’t known who Tuxedo Mask was, and vice versa. You felt like Cinderella running away from the ball, her beautiful dress giving way to rags and ratty shoes. If the prince caught up to her then, she’d probably be humiliated.

Just like you are now.

Tuxedo Mask has seen you at your most embarrassing moments, fighting to have the last word (or milkshake) as Seokjin, and also at your best, saving civilians with grace. You've only wanted him to see the best of you, for him to think of you as the perfect wonder-girl heroine everyone else saw you as, but he's seen almost every side. You don't know what he sees in you now, if anything. And frankly, you don't want to know.

"Have you ever thought that maybe he's thinking what you're thinking?" Mina asks. "You've seen all the good and bad in him, too."

"But it's different when he doesn't have a crush on Sailor Moon!" You say, exasperated.

"Oh, I wouldn’t be sure about that if I were you."

Seokjin thinking of your alter ego that way is embarrassing, but considering he's also Tuxedo Mask...now your face is red, you can feel it. Red as roses in bloom. "You're joking, right?"

"Why don't you wait and see," Mina replies, as cryptically as when she was Sailor V and you hadn't known any better. Having sympathy for you, she gives you a warm smile. "Don't stress out too much, Moon. You're amazing either way. Just talk to him."

◑

You think there's some reconnaissance to sort out first. When you walked into Crown Arcade and saw Seokjin talking to Jimin pretty intently, you didn’t want to interrupt...okay, who were you kidding? You chickened out.

But Jimin is his best friend, so he'll know how Seokjin feels the most, right? It's the next best alternative to actually speaking to Seokjin, which, well, you aren't ready for. Case in point: you've done the impossible and made yourself scarce. You aren’t about to break your streak now.

So the instant Seokjin leaves, you walk up to the counter. Jimin looks up from sprinkling a milkshake. "Hey. The usual?"

"Yeah, just double on the chocolate."

"You got it," he says, passing the drinks he finished making to a server. You watch him blend milk into ice cream, then reach over for a new cup to pour the mixture into later. It's all done with practiced ease, and you marvel at how quick he is, not to mention how beautiful the finished milkshake looks after. The chocolate is perfect, the whipped cream a cloud of snow drizzled with dark syrup.

Jimin slides it over with a grin. "Mademoiselle."

"Why, thank you," you say, digging in with gusto. This is exactly what "stressed is desserts spelled backwards," meant: Jimin's milkshakes never fail to kick your worries down a notch.

"Good?" He asks.

"Mhm," you mumble, more to your milkshake than to him, when the thought that you haven't paid yet crosses your mind. Oh gosh. You pull your purse onto your lap, but Jimin chuckles, stopping you.

"I've got it covered. Besides, I heard you weren't yourself lately."

"Really?"

He shrugs. "From the way you're devouring that, it's kind of hard to believe…"

You take an extra large mouthful to prove his point.

"But you only lay on the chocolate when you're bummed," he finishes, and you’d protest if you hadn’t made it a habit to drown your sorrows in his milkshakes. They were just too good to resist. Not to mention Jimin is a great listener. Your girls, although you love them, aren't always the best. You'd catch the moment they crossed over from attentive to "Is she done yet?" but with Jimin, you've never had that issue. Turns out you have a different one.

"I hate how perceptive you are."

He laughs. "You're just predictable."

"You know what? You can take back your milkshake and go back to work," you say in a fit of grumpiness, pushing the glass back to him.

"Are you sure you want me to do that?"

You meet him eye to eye. After a minute—a long, impressive minute might you add—you take it back. "Fine. What do you want to hear?"

"Anything you want to tell me. And if it's something you can't share, please tell someone you can. It's not great to keep things bottled up, trust me."

You sigh.

"Here's the deal," you begin, feeling a little weird telling your old crush about your new one, but marching through nevertheless, "I met someone on...online. He's nice and funny and understands me even though he's different. I just click with him, and eventually, I want to tell him I like him. The thing is, I don't really know who he is. We've been chatting on Discord and his profile picture is Tuxedo Mask, but he can't be Tuxedo Mask. Or maybe he is, who knows?"

Jimin laughs. If only he knew.

"Anywho," you continue, "I meet him and find out he's someone I actually know...but he's a pest. He always gets on my nerves and it's like he's a completely different person! I don't even know how that's possible, but apparently it is and it's just so frustrating."

Jimin doesn't speak for a while, which is fine by you. You take the time to jam spoonfuls of chocolate and cream into your mouth.

"You know," he finally says, amused, "that sounds a little like the plot to You've Got Mail."

"That isn't funny.” You huff. “Joe Fox was a jerk and I don't know why they played him off as charming."

"Isn't that what you think of the guy?"

"I never said he was a jerk."

"But you said he was a pest."

"That isn't the s—" You pull at your hair. "Ugh. I don't know anymore."

"Did you talk to him?"

"And what? Spill my complicated feelings?"

"No, just talk to him. You don't have to confess right now. Just air out the laundry and see where you guys are at. Chances are, if you're confused, then he's confused, too, and there's no way either of you can get out of it without talking to each other."

"I can't talk to him, Jimin. I avoided him for three weeks! He's going to hate me."

"He isn't," Jimin says firmly, and you wish you could have the same conviction. "Sure, he'll be upset, but if he's really someone who cares, he'll listen. Look, during that time you avoided him, did he try to reach out?"

"Well, I told him I didn't want to talk and he stopped asking."

"So he'll listen. If it turns out he hates you, give him a piece of your mind and I'll give you triple chocolate milkshakes on the house."

When he puts it like that, talking to Seokjin doesn't seem as dreadful. "You're not just saying that?"

"Have I ever said something I didn't mean?"

You get your answer when someone comes trudging in, holding up a bag from your go-to fast food joint. "Jimin! You better be grateful I drove all the way downtown to get you these burgers. Since when did you like ______'s favorite, anyways?"

"Since now," your traitor of a friend says. You glare at him, which he conveniently ignores.

"You're the best," he tells a surprised Seokjin, leaving with a pat on his shoulder. "Enjoy your meal!"

>> NEXT

...

note:

*Venus to Selene, like "Earth to [insert name]?" but replace Earth with Venus and [name] with Selene, Greek goddess of the moon

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

Can we get a fluf fic where Mc tries to keep up with goofy/funny/silly/playful/sleepy/naughty Vivienne? Please I miss my babe😢

Pairing with: PLEASE ANY VIVIENNE X ZOE X MC FLUFFY WOULD BE APPRECIATED 🥺

PLEASE may I request ANY Vivienne x Zoe x MC fluff? Pretty please?…

...

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. You didn’t even stop to think about where Vivienne had gone off to, used to her random disappearances in the morning and far too distracted with the newest episode of a show Zoe and you liked to wonder about it for long.

Almost buzzing with excitement, you enter Zoe’s room, dropping in the moving chair she has by her side and eagerly watching the screen.

“How much is left?”

“Half an hour, but I think we’ll manage.”

With nothing else to do but wait, you quickly dissolve into excited theorizing, while Zoe just sits there and listens, adding the occasional ‘uh-huh’ here and there. You both had worked out what the twist might be the other week, so you limit yourself to wondering about the characters themselves. That eventually turns into a discussion of ships.

Zoe isn’t much of a shipper, you’ve noticed. She keeps to the margin and analyses everything objectively, acknowledging character interactions but never focusing on them. You were the complete opposite, and a crack shipper to boot, which often clashes against Zoe’s logical side and sparks some amazing debates.

You’re in the middle of one right then when Remy interrupts, knuckles lightly tapping against the door’s side as he peers in, face blank as he looks at the two of you on your respective chairs, cocooned by a blanket, popcorn sitting on your laps. “I’ll never understand what you like so much about that show.”

“Excuse you,” Zoe huffs, angrily grabbing her soda and giving him a sour look. “It’s an amazing show.”

“Amazing!” You echo, as you have done many times before. “I am appalled you don’t see its genius, Remy! Appalled!”

“Right, sure. I remember you both were hysterical over the last cliffhanger. Did you figure out who the murderer is already?”

“Oh yeah,” you wave your hand around, as if dismissing the subject. “Last week. What we are discussing right now is why the prosecutor and the assistant are such a good pairing–” Zoe turns to look at you as if you had just proclaimed the sky was purple, and she looks so baffled you dissolve into a fit of giggles right then and there.

Remy smiles, shaking his head fondly, and stepping out without another word.

“Leaving that atrocious pairing aside…”

Zoe nudges the discussion into another direction and you allow it, satisfied with the reaction you got from her earlier. You’re both stealing anxious glances at the screen, excited to see that only a few minutes are left.

“This is it,” Zoe mutters softly. “The end of this case. The next one is going to be so weird.”

“We’ll probably find out what happen to the firefighter, right? Honestly, it just looks like they got abducted by aliens–”

“MC!” Rings a voice. Zoe scowls immediately, as if that was her standard reaction to Vivienne – or yet another interruption. Probably both.

“Hey babe, where were you?”

Vivienne’s smirk softens at the petname, quietly pleased. “Oh, you know, getting some things ready…”

“Huh? What, for the heist?”

“Something infinitely better.”

“What could be better than the heist?”

Her eyes gleam, dark pools of chocolate drawing you in like a sailor entranced by a siren’s call. “Why don’t you come with me and find out?”

Zoe groans.

“Can you stop being horny for–” her gaze drops quickly to the clock, “–24 minutes? It won’t kill you, will it?”

“You are always invited to join us, darling.”

“Pass.”

“Your loss,” Vivienne says, with a small shrug. “Then, MC–”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, sure babe, just gimme 24 minutes.”

“Twen– what?” Her eyes follow yours, locking onto the screen. “…Ah. Today is Monday. I forgot.”

“Prepared a whole ‘romantic’ outing for no reason, did you?” Zoe grins. “Sucks to be you.”

A light frown appears over Vivienne’s face. “It’s… only half an hour. I can manage that much.” She finally says, body turning slightly, as if she were on an internal war over leaving and staying.

“Great. You’re making progress, Tang.”

Vivienne rolls her eyes, most of her good mood visibly diminishing. She hesitates a second longer before turning in your direction, pursing her lips. “So– a show. I’m getting cockblocked because of a show.”

“A great show,” both Zoe and you say, nodding solemnly.

“But you already know how it’s going to end. Who the murderer is. MC, you told me that last week!”

“I mean, it’s only a theory Zoe and I have. We still need to see if it gets confirmed.”

“It surely will.” Zoe says, smugly. “The signs are all there. He won’t get away with it. The scarf will be his undoing, no doubt.”

“Wait, you’re still with that? It’s the statue! It’s too fishy! If they check it and–”

“MC, you can’t be serious–” Vivienne tries to interject, but Zoe quickly cuts her off with her own rebuttal to your argument, and the seductress gets this strange look on her face, gaze flicking between the screen, Zoe, and you, stunned for all of two seconds before she shakes her head, schooling her expression.

You distractedly wonder if she’ll leave, your attention quickly taken by the beginning of the opening notes of the show. You enter than zone where nothing else matters, nothing else exists but the screen and you are positively buzzing, mind racing with all the things that could possibly happen until a red blur passes in front of you, something heavy landing so unexpectedly on your lap it takes your breath away.

“Wha–”

“Ow! Hey! Vivienne?!”

It takes you a moment to understand what happened, snapping out of the concentrated state you were a few seconds ago. Vivienne has perched herself on top of your lap, curled there like a smug cat, her arms loosely wrapped around your neck and her gaze is so intense it sets your whole soul alight, consuming every thought you had previously.

You have the same reaction any person would have in this situation, which is, to have a full gay panic.

She– she feels so warm and she’s so close and oh god those eyes–

“Vivienne, what the hell!”

One glance to the right reveals what has Zoe so pissed: Vivienne has her legs high up in her direction, blocking her view of the screen. You don’t even know why she’s so mad, it’s a very nice view–

“The show just began! Are you really that salty?!”

Show? What sh– Ah. That show. Right.

You try to maneuver around Vivienne’s head to look at the computer, but one of Vivienne’s hands instantly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her with a gentle but firm gesture. Barely, you catch her move her legs to block Zoe too.

“Eyes on me, partner.” She all but purrs, commanding, and your brain short-circuits when she presses herself against you.

“Really? Really?!”

Vivienne gives Zoe her best smoldering smirk. “Oh, I know that look. It’s okay, dear, you can go first… maybe bend me over the table–”

“I’m going to throw you out of the window–”

“Is that your kink, Zoe? Press me against the window, giving everyone full view of–”

“Oh my god–!”

Taking advantage of the situation, you try to peek at the screen again. Vivienne’s grip tightens, making you whimper slightly, her blazing brown eyes meeting yours again.

“Ah ah ah, what did I say? Do not disobey me.”

“Viv…”

“Keep looking at me, sweetheart. If I catch more wandering eyes, you’re going to regret it.”

“Ah… but I…”

Her eyes flash, her thumb tracing the lines of your lips roughly, effectively shutting you up. Vivienne looks pleased, all dark passion, grip softening. She starts tracing a line down to your throat, leaving a trail of tickling heat after the touch.

“Suffering from success, aren’t you, MC?” Zoe dryly states, maneuvering around Vivienne’s outstretched legs with a scowl that could give Nikolai’s a run for his money. She reaches for the back of the moving chair you had borrowed, beginning to push you. Vivienne makes a chocked sound of surprise low in her throat, tightening her hold over your neck. “That’s it. All I want is to watch my show in peace, no interruptions-”

“Um, our show-”

“-and no Vivienne being Vivienne for the next 20 minutes.”

“What am I supposed to be then?”

“Be a doormat for all I care, just do it outside my room!” She punctuates her statement with one final, fully determined push, sending you skidding towards the hallway. Vivienne thrusts her legs to the right, managing to use her weight just so to spin the chair in time. The back collides against the wall with a dull thump, and you barely see Zoe’s deadpan expression before she closes her door. “You better return my chair later!” Is all she says, presumably heading back to her computer.

“…aw, I wanted to see this episode.” You finally mumble, shoulders dropping dejectedly.

Vivienne blinks owlishly at you. “Isn’t the episode going to be available later?”

“Well, yeah, but I’m curious to see how the arrest will go. I don’t think I can wait another day.”

“Arrest. Such an ugly word, when you are a thief.” Vivienne hums, pressing into you just slightly, eyes alight with mirth. “You are quite taken with it regardless… Is it the thrill?”

“Uh…”

“You know, partner, if you want to be in cuffs so much, all you have to do is ask.”

Color spreads over your cheeks like spilled wine, sweet, impossible to hold back. Vivienne leans forward, eager for a taste, that smirk of hers firmly in place and you briefly wonder if you’ll just burst, too filled with surprise and frustration and a little bit of heat.

“Think only about me, MC.” Vivienne mutters, breath ghosting over the skin of your ear, coaxing a shy shiver out of you. The vibrations of her voice send ripples of emotion through you, make you groan slightly. Smirk widening, not caring one bit that you are still on the hallway, one of her hands drops down, down-

“20 minutes! Just 20 minutes!” A flash of gray. Vivienne’s startled squeak. Her grip loosens and she goes tumbling down your lap, the floor receiving her with its cold embrace. Zoe’s door slams shut – again – and your gaze drops, discovering the slipper resting by Vivienne’s hand with an amused snort.

“She got you good, huh?”

“She – just took me by surprise, is all.” Vivienne says, after a pause. You giggle, pushing yourself to your feet and offering her your hand, which she takes gratefully. She doesn’t let go, instead pulling you in the direction of the apartment’s exit, and you throw a longing look in the direction of Zoe’s room before accepting your fate.

You’ll have to watch that episode tomorrow, it seems.