#{at least i have plenty of time before bestie gets home}

[vizutsune]

shiny hunting in scarvio,,,,

[asunflowerana]

how to crash a date

summary: friends are the best thing in our lifes, with a big talent for crashing dates.

with: Tsukishima Kei, Akaashi Keiji, Iwaizumi Hajime and Kenma Kozume (and their respective "besties").

⊛ tsukishima kei: be oblivious!

Kei has been planning this date for a week already. Take you to the carnival, walk with you hand in hand, buy you some sweets, win you a teddy bear and maybe get some kisses on the way, the perfect plan. Even if he doesn't enjoy going outdoor, he's feeling excited for tonight, knowing he’ll have plenty of time to spend with you alone.

At first, things were going so well that he actually pondered going more to those carnivals.Though his main motivation wasn’t the colorful scenario, or the funny attractions over the booths; his eyes could only focus on your bright smile, luminescing the place better than those lanterns hanging above your heads.

Everything was great. Until two morons noticed your existence.

“TSUKI!” His body automatically stiffens after recognizing the voice of his two teammates, Tanaka and Nishinoya. Grimacing, he slowly turns sideways, hoping that he’s just hallucinating and the two annoying boys waving at him aren't actually real. Of all places in Japan, they had to be at the same place as him? Really?

It didn’t take long for them to approach and introduce themselves to you. “It’s nice to meet you,  ______. Tsukishima didn’t tell us he had a girlfriend. Not that we thought he could date someone.” Tanaka humored, making Noya chuckle along and Tsukishima’s face reddened with pure loathe. Before he could protest, Noya excitedly pulled you towards a game booth, breaking Kei’s hold on your hand, which made him even more annoyed. First they interrupt his date, and now they steal his girl? Tanaka rested his hand on the blonde’s tense shoulder.  “Thanks for the invite, man. We’ll have a great time together!”.

It was the worst two hours of his life.

He had to watch and control his boiling temper as his teammates spent the entire time playing and chatting with you. At least, you seemed to be having some fun with them by your expression and non-stop smile, and that only made Tsukki even more grumpy. It was his time to make you smile, not theirs.

By the time they left, it was too late for him to have a quality time with you there, so he ended up taking you home. He was already planning to punch the boys the next morning for ruining his date, but to his surprise, the night wasn’t a complete failure.

“Thank you for tonight Kei. I know it wasn’t what we planned, but I had a lot of fun.” You said genuinely, embracing him and giving his cheek a gentle peck. And for the rest of the night, Tsukishima smiled like a fool in love.

⊛ akaashi keiji: be clingy!

Akaashi and Bokuto are lifelong friends. They go to school together, have the same classes, eat at the same time, play on the same team and even return home on the same path. Literally five of the seven days of the week, Akaashi has Bokuto’s company. But as every human being, he needs an amount of time for himself and others. Especially time for you, his girlfriend of almost a month. On your days, he plans to spend time with you only, dismissing his other obligations; however, it is easier said than done when it comes to dismissing Bokuto.

Bokuto doesn’t quite understand that his friend needs space sometimes, so he gets sad when he receives a ‘no’ as an answer to his invites. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind if you’re going to be with them, he adores you. He just doesn't get why he can’t tag along with you guys.

He doesn't like to feel left out, so he decides to follow the two of you on a coffee shop date one day, to express his feelings. Yes, he was not invited, but what’s the harm, right? He’ll just sit at a table closer to yours, and wait for the right moment to make himself noticed.

Meanwhile, you and your boyfriend are chatting about your weeks, his right hand intertwined with yours on the table. Keiji’s so focused on you, that you’re the one who noticed the white-haired boy trying to hide his face behind the menu two tables from yours. 

“Kei, isn’t that guy Bokuto?” He goes mute as soon as you pronounce his best friend’s name, turning his head dreadfully in the direction your eyes indicated. Finding the noisy owl, he sighs in frustration, raising from his seat and walking toward his friend. “Bokuto-kun, what are you doing here?” He hisses to not make a scene, but his friend, emotional as he is, reacts oppositely and raises from his chair with his arms crossed and pouting like a three-year-old toddler. 

“I wanted to spend time with my friends…” He confesses gloomy, making even you feel a bit conscious at the same time amused by the scene, as Akaashi rolls his eyes. Before the brunette could reject his friend again, you decide to invite the ace to join you, receiving a confused look from Keiji in return. You simply couldn’t resist his sad puppy face. Without thinking twice, Bokuto lifts up a chair and puts it between your seats before sitting down with a huge smile on his face — much to Akaashi’s dismay.

It’ll take a while before Akaashi finally gets some time alone with you.

⊛ iwaizumi hajime: be overbearing!

Even though he’s quite popular at school for being an athlete, Hajime isn’t a flirtish guy like the rest of his friends. That doesn’t mean he can’t win a girl, it’s simply the fact that there weren’t many girls he found interesting. And after finding you, he doesn’t see himself with anyone else. But regardless of that, his friends always thought he had difficulties with romance, especially Oikawa: which explains why the brunette got so concerned when Hajime told him he asked you out on a date.

Toru didn’t want things to go wrong on this date, especially since his friend is clearly smitten by you, something that doesn’t happen often with Hajime. So he offered (imposed) his help, giving tips and tricks to turn his friend into the king of romance. The problem is that Oikawa’s a very intense teacher, wanting to give lectures every day and every time, making the brunette go crazy for good. It didn’t take three days before Iwaizumi refused further assistance, assuring his friend that he’s capable of handling a date. 

Did Oikawa listen though?

The night was going so well. Hajime took you to a friendly pub, which helped to dissolve the awkwardness of the first minutes, and made you both feel more intimate as you spoke about multiple topics. You two got along so well through the afternoon, that you already looked like a long-term couple, laughing and enjoying themselves. While Hajime told you one funny story of his childhood, he noticed something unusual through the pub’s round window, in front of him.

It’s Oikawa, waving at him while holding a sign written in bold blue letters: “Say she looks beautiful, and don’t forget to clean your teeth!”

“Can you excuse me for a second, sweetheart?” He was so nervous that didn't notice the pet name coming through his mouth, nor the way you got bashful when he said that. He just wanted to finish Oikawa’s life right there, and as soon as you nod at him, he quickly walks out for that. 

“Yo-hoo!” His captain waves as he exits the pub, smiling like a proud dad. “Iwa-chan, thought you needed a-” He doesn’t finish the last sentence since Iwaizumi hits his arm hard with the cardboard sign, making Oikawa yelp. “WHAT? WHAT DID I DO?”

⊛ kenma kozume: be noisy!

Almost all of nekoma’s volleyball team sees Kenma as someone who needs to be taken care of, even if he’s perfectly capable of doing that. When they find out that their setter started dating from other sources, everyone gets curious to know how things are going with the new couple, even if it had nothing to do with their lives, as Kenma “gently” reminded them once. Some even followed you around school sometimes, just to get to know the girl who stole the mechanic heart of their friend.

They immediately took the hint when Kenma announced one day that he needed to leave practice early for something important: it must be something involving you. Ten minutes after he left,  Kuroo, Yaku, Yamamoto, and Fukunaga initiated a secret mission to follow their teammate to his destination. Throughout the journey, Yaku kept whispering how bad spying on Kenma was, but still continued to follow the path, just as curious as the others. Kuroo didn’t waste the chance to snicker at him. 

The path leads them to a public park not too far from school, and they get just in time to witness the most surprising scene only a few bunches away: Kenma and you sitting on a red towel on the grass, having a cute picnic together. Kenma was chuckling so carefree, while you were throwing small cubs of apple into his mouth,  and no sign of his console beside him. 

The boys quickly hid behind a large bush near the spot, spying on the couple’s moment with a content smile on their faces. “Own, look how happy our Kenma is. He’s so hooked.” Kuroo says, a prideful grin taking on his expression. It’s good to see his best friend having that type of experience. 

“What are you guys doing there?” Out of nowhere, Levi appears near them, his loud voice attracting the couple’s attention and revealing their hiding spot to everyone around. The boys grimace as soon as they’re discovered, all of them feeling Kenma’s fulminant gaze. “Oops… my bad.”

n/a: i promise they had good intention 😂

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 So Close, Quantico.

Post prison Reid x Fem!reader

Read part one here!

Summary: A strange visit to the prison ends with an unexpected confession of love and makes you run away again. You were ready to leave, but maybe this time he'll make you stay.

Words: 2,5k.

TW: literally none, just drama and sweet love+emily being a bestie. english is not my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I didn't expect to be asked for a second part because I'm still new here and I don't think anyone will read me (intrusive thoughts lol), but here I am giving it to you because Spencer needs a happy ending!

♡ Enjoy! ♡

Just as you sat down and pulled out a travel magazine to read while you waited for your flight, you got a call from Emily. You frowned and were confused for a few seconds until you remembered that you hadn't told her that you were going back to London so soon and that the possibility of having a drink together would not be fulfilled. You hadn't even said goodbye in person, and it was only now that you realized it.

You hadn't noticed anything after working on Spencer's case for four days straight and losing your mind over it. It was the first time you hadn't seen your client or personally briefed him on the progress of the investigation, and that impersonality made everything strange, but you knew he didn't want to see you, and you weren't going to push him. At least you managed to get him released on parole after you found some evidence of third party involvement in his alleged crime. And as soon as you were informed of this decision, you assigned a trusted lawyer to the case, booked a flight, and packed your bags.

“Don't hate me, but I'm about to catch a flight and I forgot to tell you.” You said quickly as soon as the call started and you could hear a sigh of shock from the other end.

“You what? Why? You just got here and we haven't even had a chance to talk and drink wine.” She replied after a few minutes of processing the information.

“I'm really sorry, Ems. I have things to do at my office and my work here is already done.” You tried to explain as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. You didn't like the idea of looking like you were running away again, even if you were. “I really have to go.”

“You have or you want?”

The question alone made you sigh and question being best friends with a profiler. It was impossible to hide your feelings and thoughts from her.

“It doesn't matter...anyway, you can visit me whenever you want, I have plenty of wine at home.” You spoke trying to avoid her question at all costs. “Penelope and JJ can come, girls' night out and all.”

“And Spencer...?” She asked in a cautious tone, knowing that this was a complicated subject. After all, Emily was the one who had to put up with your sighing and crying over Reid for years.

“He's not a girl.”

You could almost see her roll her eyes at your answer, and by the tone of her voice when she told you she meant it, you knew she did.

“Seeing him was as strange as I imagined, but confirming that he doesn't want to see me and that he hates me felt worse than I thought. I have to face this from a distance.” You tried to explain and put into words the feelings you were avoiding.

“He doesn't hate you, and he definitely wants to see you.” She corrected you, making you frown.

“What? Please don't try to make me feel better with emotional profiling tricks.” You said wearily, looking up at the big screen with the flight schedules and realizing that it was still more than half an hour before your plane was due to arrive.

“These are not tricks. Seriously, if he didn't want to see you, he wouldn't have asked me for your hotel address yesterday.”

Your heart stopped at that moment, and any attempt to focus your attention on something else, or even keep your cool, failed. You didn't want to get your hopes up again and sound like a fool for getting excited about something so minimal.

“I'm not even at the hotel anymore, and he never went there.” You tried to control your nervousness and conceal how this information had thrown you. “Ems, my flight arrives in 30 minutes, I have to leave you, but I promise to call you more often and visit you sometime. I love you.” You ended in a chaotic way.

“Well, me too. But don't disappear, I'll wait for that girls' night.” She replied, defeated by your insistence, and paused before speaking again. “And tell Reid we have a case in Utah, we're leaving in 30.”

“What?” You asked immediately, not understanding if you had heard wrong, but she had already hung up.

You looked up again, expecting to see the central screen with the schedules, but instead of seeing your flight number in bright letters, you saw Spencer's brown eyes searching for you a few feet away. You had to blink several times to confirm that it was him and that you weren't hallucinating, and only then did Emily's last words make sense.

Was he here to see you? Was it possible?

You remained motionless in your seat, as if bound to it, and watched as Reid walked at a brisk pace straight towards you. It was the first time you had seen him since that chaotic visit to the prison, and you still had a bittersweet taste in your mouth from that interaction. He was wearing a suit now, probably the clothes he wore to work, and he looked like he had run several miles, judging by his disheveled hair and labored breathing.

“What are you doing here?” You asked as soon as you had him in front of you, rising from your seat to be at his height even though you were several inches shorter.

“I needed to talk to you for days and you never came to see me again.” He explained, still trying to regulate his breathing after searching for you all over the airport. “About what you told me before you left.”

“I didn't come back because you made it clear that you didn't want to see me, and I respected your wish.” You explained as calmly as you could. “And as for what I said, there's no need to talk about it. It's outdated and I shouldn't have brought it up.”

You saw him sigh and fidget chaotically for a second before he spoke again. He seemed nervous, as if he had rehearsed the conversation a thousand times in his mind.

“I need to talk about this. You told me you were in love with me...I just found out and I couldn't stop thinking about it, it's stuck in my head because you never told me.” He tried to speak slowly, but it was as if the old Spencer you once knew had reappeared and started babbling. “You said you were leaving because you were offered a better position and you were bored with this job, you never mentioned that...that you liked me.”

“My flight leaves in less than 30 minutes, I can't talk now.” You tried to get out of the situation, but he gently grabbed your arm before you could escape. And with a sigh, you spoke again. “Good. I never told you how much I liked you, but that doesn't change anything.”

You pulled away from his touch and putting your hands on your bags so you could leave soon.

“It changes. It really changes everything.”

“What? How?” You dropped the suitcases and looked at him in confusion.

He remained silent for a few seconds, looking at the clock on the bright screen above you, trying to use the little time he had to talk to you and express himself. He felt the words catch in his throat, and it was a disappointment after having only you as the protagonist of all his thoughts since you had visited him, pushing away any possibility of holding a grudge against you because the only thing on his mind was doubt about what would have happened if he had known.

Spencer had spent so many years locked in hate, trying to hold a grudge against you for leaving, leaving nothing but torturous memories in an eidetic memory and a ridiculous need for a hug from you every time things went wrong. And suddenly you showed up, looking as beautiful as ever, saving him from a traumatic experience and delivering information he never expected.

He had only been free for a few days and yet everyone looked at him differently, from pity to fear, knowing that prison had changed him forever. But not you, you looked at him as if he were the same as always, even though years had passed and you had only seen his worst face again.

“If I had known...if you had told me I...” He stammered, trying to find some courage to stop feeling like the same young man you had left. “You would know that I felt the same way.”

At that moment, you almost had to sit up again because of the impression his words had made on you. You closed your eyes and opened them again to make sure that you were not hallucinating and that it was really the one you had been dreaming about for years who was telling you that he also felt something for you before.

“You don't have to lie...no, don't lie to me like that just because I got you out of jail.” You started to blurt out, completely denying the strong beating of your heart.

“I appreciate you doing this, but I won't lie to you. I could never do something like this.” He assured you, looking you straight in the eye for confirmation. “And if you don't believe me, I can tell you exactly when I first realized I liked you, it was November 8, 2005, it was 11:35 in the morning because I looked at the clock. You had completed your third month with us and you went to talk to Gideon and Hotch because you wanted to get out in the field and stop doing paperwork. You were so nervous about getting fired that you grabbed my hand before you left, but you didn't notice because you were busy listening to my comments about your performance. I thought it was nothing and that I was just nervous because you were the only one I was talking to and I was afraid of losing you, but before you left you smiled at me and I knew everything was going to be okay. Again I thought it was nothing...but every time things went wrong I thought about it, I still do because that smile is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life.”

“I...” You tried to speak and formulate even one word, but it kept getting stuck in your throat.

“Wait, I'm not done yet.” He interrupted you, saving you from a possible babble. “I never told you because I thought you didn't feel the same way and that you saw me as a younger brother to be taken care of. I'd rather have you as a friend than not have you at all, so I left it in my mind as an impossibility and I thought I was completely over it until you left and I lost my mind...and it's happening again.”

“God, I need to sit down.” It was all you could say at the time as you tried to process everything he said.

You sat down with his help and watched him relax a little as he finished speaking, as if he had waited a long time to say it and had practiced it many times. You felt your heart pound after years of dreaming of hearing those words from him. You had never imagined a life where Spencer felt anything more than friendship for you, and now it was real. He had loved you as much as you wanted, and you had been too blind to see it before other people came along.

“I know it's been years since you got over me and that I was a jerk to you when you came to see me, but you need to know that ever since I saw you I couldn't stop thinking about what my life would have been like if I had told you from the beginning.” He spoke again, trying to look closely at you to decipher what was going through your mind. “I'm sorry, I'm really sorry if this has upset you or...”

“Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?” You said, still surprised, taking the opportunity to get up from your chair.

“I'm sorry, I know it's too late and now you're going to leave again, but this time I'm here to ask you not to do it again.” He came over and took you by the hands, bending down a little to be at your level, as if he was begging you. “And I know it's selfish because you have to go and you have a life away, but I really...”

“Spencer.” You stopped him before he started babbling, and he looked at you anxiously for your answer. “It's not too late.”

“Really?” He asked, as if he could not believe he had heard you correctly.

“Really.”

You gave him a small smile of affirmation and felt your eyes glaze over with emotion as you felt him release your hands and grab your cheeks to wipe away the stray tear that had fallen. The look of tenderness he gave you along with his touch made you tremble.

“Are you planning to kiss me already or are you going to wait 13 more years?” You spoke without even thinking.

He didn't have to think once before closing the distance between you and fulfilling the longing that had been in your mind for so long. You couldn't say anything because his lips had been on yours before and the first contact had almost made you melt. His hands were still on your cheeks, but one of them went down to your waist to pull you closer and make sure you were real.

Your lips tasted like cherries and that made him smile immediately in the middle of the kiss, thinking that you were still wearing the same lipstick that you had applied in front of him so many times and that he had only dreamed of tasting. Finally, the reality was far better than any fantasy and the softness mixed with the intensity of a repressed love during the kiss because finally the stars had aligned for the two of you.

“Are you going to go out on a date with me?” He asked as soon as you both parted.

“I have a girls' night out first.” You replied, letting it be known that you were tired of running away. “But I'd love to go on a date with you.”

He came over and gave you a quick kiss before you could say anything else. You returned the kiss and then pulled away, putting your arms around his neck.

“You're kissing me like this before the first date?” You joked, still trapped in the bubble of love you felt you were in.

“I don't intend to wait any longer now that I have you here.” He responded by giving you a kiss on the head and wrapping his arms around you to hug you. “So please don't go away for 6 years again.”

“I don't plan to go anywhere now.”

[fabbyf1]

happy saturday, besties!

i hope you're having a great day wherever you are in the world.

as you all know, i've been really going through it the past week. first the hurricane, then the multi-day power outage, then trying to get my life and house back to normal afterward. i had to throw away hundreds of dollars of food that spoiled (RIP money i luv u) but at least it was a great opportunity to deep clean the fridge. and, like i mentioned before, i am very very very thankful to have no physical damage to my life or property.

ANYWAY... thank you all for your patience while i get my life together. i know a lot of you are looking forward to the next chapter of the mastermind fic, and i promise i've been slowly working on it when i have time! not that anybody is rushing me; you all have been very kind and patient with me.

i'm hoping to have this chapter finished within the next couple of days as a reward to myself for doing all the not-so-fun things around the house.

in the meantime...

snippet under the cut!

After Singapore, Max flew home to Monaco. 

They had almost a month off before the next race, which gave him plenty of time to get a fucking grip. He needed to find a way to move on with his life and stop thinking about what happened, or he might actually lose his mind. He had received plenty of blow jobs over the years that he never thought twice about; why couldn’t this have been one of them?! 

It wasn’t even supposed to be a real blow job! 

Charles didn’t suck his dick because he was attracted to him; he was just trying to prove he wasn’t bad at it. Max was just a prop in his learning experience. It wasn’t like they had this irresistible chemistry between them that they finally acted on. They had never flirted, teased, or even gotten close to anything resembling a potential hook-up! 

Max was just someone with a dick that Charles felt comfortable enough with to ask for a favor. 

And, like, sure... he let him come... 

And... seemed to really enjoy swallowing his come... 

But that was because he had manners! 

Of course he let him come. It would have been rude of him to leave Max hanging after he had gone out of his way to do him a very awkward favor, and Charles Leclerc was not rude. He was kind, and polite, and funny, and hot—no! Not hot! 

He was... 

Fuck. 

Okay. 

He was hot. 

But Max knew plenty of hot people! 

Most of the people in his friend group, both men and women, were objectively very hot. The entire city of Monaco was full of people he would consider attractive. It didn’t have to mean anything. 

Just because a really hot person sucked his dick didn’t mean that he had to think about it for the rest of his life. 

He just needed a few weeks off to reset his brain, and everything would be fine. 

There were plenty of things to do that didn’t involve his cock in Charles’ mouth. He could play with the cats, or sleep until noon, or finally watch that TV series his sister had been bugging him about for months. He could play video games, or do some iRacing with Team Redline, or learn how to fucking cross-stitch or something. 

He was young, rich, and successful; the world was his oyster! 

He just needed a few weeks of uninterrupted me time, and everything would be fine!!!

[ceilidho]

Hi! Love your writing! I just read part 1 of possessive bestie soap, it mentioned how Soap misses the reader terribly when he’s on deployment and it got me curious 🧐

How does Soap cope when he is missing reader when he’s on base? I can imagine him having a few photos of them and maybe a piece of clothing of theirs he burrowed (stolen) he puts on a pillow to cuddle when the feeling of longing are at its worse.

You write letters to each other when he's able to (at the very least, he makes you write to him and he reads every single thing you send him) and he adopted a dog the last time he was on leave so now you co-parent a dog :) normal best friend stuff :)

He tells everyone on base that he's got a girl at home. Has your picture in his wallet and an old shirt that he keeps under his pillow whenever he sleeps. He also makes sure you have plenty of his clothes to sleep in.

I don't think you've met the rest of the 141 just yet because the task force was only put together relatively recently (Soap only just met Ghost before the Las Almas mission). You maybe know Price because I imagine Price has met Soap and worked with him a few times before assembling the 141. Soap wouldn't bring you around though - the most he'd entertain is if Price was in the neighbourhood and wanted to get a coffee/tea. Then maybe he'd consider it. But he'd probably be too worried that Price would mention you being his 'girlfriend' since he hasn't gotten around to making that happen just yet.

Plus, he wants you all to himself when he's home :(( military men only really get about 30 days of leave a year (from the research I've done, plus ~2.5 days every year after enlisting) so he goes long stretches of time without seeing you. Soap wouldn't be super keen on not getting to spend every second of it wrapped around you.

[justagalwhowrites]

HI BESTIE !!! 🫂

i was wondering how Joel would react to Doc spoiling him ROTTEN after she got that big girl money 🫦 (in the lavender au)

(because i know she will spoil him so much as a thank you for his unwavering support throughout her career 🥹)

OMG Hi Bestie!

I love this ask so so SO much. Joel is so soft with his girls and he deserves all the good things, including his wife treating him to all the best things once she's a big time surgeon.

This is just the perfect prompt for our favorite man's birthday, too! I hope this is just what you were hoping for. Love you!

Spoiled

After years of Joel taking care of you, you take care of Joel. A one shot set in the Lavender AU timeline.

Yes I know it's not a Joel gif but it fits the fic so well I had to.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (Joel and Doc from the Lavender AU)

Warnings: Fluff and smut, smut and fluff. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4.4K

It started with a shopping trip in Houston for Sarah’s wedding. 

She needed a dress for the rehearsal and her bachelorette party and the malls in Austin just weren’t cutting it. 

“I’m telling you,” she said after coming up empty handed on another Saturday spent shopping as the two of you ate salads and drank sweet tea at a patio cafe. “We need to go to Houston. We haven’t found anything for you, either.”

“I can just…” you began, but Sarah cut you off. 

“Mom,” she raised her brows. “You do not get to say ‘just’ anything about my wedding, come on.” 

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled. 

“Alright,” you put your hands up in surrender. “I’ve got the weekend off again in two weeks, I’ll get us a hotel room in Houston and we can shop til we drop.” 

“I’m going to get you comfortable with spending some of those big surgeon bucks one of these days,” she said. “You need to treat yourself! Live a little!” 

“I live plenty, thank you,” you replied. “And I do it just fine in my Goodwill jeans.” 

“Whatever you say,” she smirked a little, flagging down the server and grabbing the bill before you had a chance to fight her on it. 

Sarah might have had a point. You’d been an attending for the better part of a year now and the jump in pay had been staggering. You were making more now in a year than you had your entire life - or it felt that way, anyway. You’d already made good progress paying off your student loans but you made quick work of the rest. Joel had asked if you wanted to move - something bigger or better somehow - now that you could easily afford it but you’d just frowned at him, almost hurt. 

“This is our home,” you said. “I fell in love with you here, Sarah grew up here, we made Evie here. This is the first place I ever really felt like I belonged, I don’t want to leave.” 

Joel just smiled and kissed your forehead. 

“Then we’ll stay,” he said. “Moving’s a fuckin’ hassle anyway.” 

You’d just been saving money, not really sure what to do with it. You donated some of it, stopped spending time clipping coupons, finally bought a car that was from this decade (but still used). But actually spending it made you anxious. You’d never had money before. You weren’t poor, exactly. You’d always had enough to eat and a roof over your head but you almost never bought new clothes, had never really traveled outside of places that you could easily get to by car. You were pretty sure you’d never even been in a car that wasn’t at least 10 years old before you came to college and your friend Cassie gave you a ride to the store in her new BMW. It was hard to get used to the idea that money could be spent at all, that it wasn’t already earmarked for some bill or, if there was any left, that it had to be saved for a rainy day. 

“You gotta actually spend some of that hard earned money on yourself, Baby,” Joel said as you headed outside to meet Sarah for your weekend in Houston. “Buy some ridiculously expensive dress that I’m gonna want to rip off you in seconds or some purse that’s $1,000 for reasons I don’t understand.” 

“That’s two mortgage payments,” you said, eyes wide. 

“Baby.” 

“Right, right,” you nodded. “On a mission, spend money. Got it.” 

“On yourself,” he added. “Not Sarah. Or not just Sarah, anyway. You two have fun.” 

“You too,” you said, stretching up to kiss him goodbye. “Don’t let Evie con you into giving her candy when she gets home from school.” 

“What wild thing and I get up to when you’re not around is none of your business,” he gave you one last peck on the lips. “Now go, stop worryin’, live a little.” 

The mall in Houston was almost overwhelming. Not in the crowds way malls sometimes were for you, thank goodness, but with the kinds of stores. There were names you recognized from Cassie’s closet and from some of the trust fund girls in your med school program but you realized quickly you had no concept of what things like this actually cost. 

Sarah picked a dress for the rehearsal that was nearly $600 and you choked on the champagne the sales person had given you to sip while Sarah tried on options. 

“You really buy $600 dresses?” You gaped at her as you wandered back into the store from the dressing rooms. 

“Not all the time,” she shrugged. “But we make good money and sometimes it’s fun to buy something nice.” 

She held up a floor length gown to you, the bottom pooling on the ground. 

“That’s too long,” you said. 

“Well we’d get it tailored,” she laughed a little. “Come on, try it on.” 

Another sales person wandered over and offered to set up a fitting room and you snuck a peek at the price tag. Your eyes went wide. 

“That dress is $1200!” You whispered at Sarah as you trailed after the attendant. 

“And it’s for my wedding,” she replied. “And don’t you have that gala thing every spring for work? You can wear it for that, you need a new dress for that anyway. Plus I’m the bride and I say you have to try it on. You can’t disappoint the bride.” 

You sighed and went into the fitting room, feeling utterly out of place in your second hand Levis and vintage top you’d picked up on a shopping trip a few weeks back that felt much more your speed. 

But the dress - outside of the length - looked like it had been made for you. The silk hugged your every curve, the neckline dipping just low enough to display just enough cleavage to be sexy but not so much that it would be scandalous. It was simple, no embellishments beyond the structure of the dress and the deep emerald green of the fabric. Normally you’d have scoffed at something so basic fetching such a high price but, now that it was on your body, you understood it. It was like you’d put on a work of art and, in doing so, become art yourself. 

“OK you can’t laugh,” you said. “But I’m coming out.” 

Sarah was waiting patiently in the little show room attached to your fitting room and you had to hold up the hem of the dress to not trip but she gasped all the same. 

“Oh Mom,” her hand went to her mouth, her eyes wide. “You look incredible.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, turning in the mirrors to look at yourself from every angle. “I don’t look like I’m playing dress up?” 

“Not at all,” she spoke with almost a sense of reverence, looking you up and down. “You’re getting that dress. I’ll buy it for you if you won’t…” 

“No, Sarah,” you protested but she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before you had a chance to really realize what she was doing. “What was that for?” 

“I’m sending this to Dad…” her voice trailed off and she took a sip of champagne just as her phone rang. She smirked and answered, putting it on speaker phone. “Speak of the devil. Hey old man, your wife is trying to tell me this dress costs too much.” 

“I don’t care if that dress costs $200,000 she’s bringing it home,” Joel said. “She hear me?” 

“Yes,” Sarah smiled, a shit eating grin if there ever was one. 

“Good,” he said. “Baby, you look so damn amazing I’m about to jump in the truck and drive over there just to see you in that thing in person sooner. Save me a trip, bring it home, alright?” 

“Alright,” you sighed. 

“Didn’t quite hear that,” Joel said. 

“I said alright you dork,” you said a little, grinning in spite of yourself. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You bought the dress. And a bag that Sarah insisted you needed for work because she was tired of seeing you haul around a canvas tote. And shoes for the dress. 

When you passed the jeweler window, you were on the way to the car after spending so much money you were surprised you hadn’t fainted. You stopped, the hanger with the garment bag for the dress hooked in your fingers over your shoulder, and looked at the watch sitting in the window. 

It was large and silver but not too ornate, no diamonds or anything like that. The face of the watch was black with elegant white roman numerals on the face. 

“What?” Sarah asked, stopping next to you. 

“Do you think your dad would like that?” You asked, head cocked a little, still looking at the timepiece through the glass. 

“Yeah,” Sarah said after a moment. “Seems like a him watch, if he were going to wear a nice watch, anyway.” 

Joel did already have a watch. A simple one with a green strap and silver colored case and a black face. You and Sarah had picked it out together for his birthday one year. She’d been giddy about it, you had to all but beg her to keep it a secret for a few days until it came time to give it to him. He loved the thing, wore it every day, even more than a decade later. 

But your career wasn’t the only one that had advanced. Joel was no longer doing the manual labor of a contractor every day. More often than not, he was going to meet with clients and arrange contracts and make plans. For a lot of those meetings, he wore a suit and, for a lot of those meetings, you saw him stick his watch in his pocket before leaving the house instead of putting it on. 

“Hard sometimes,” he said when you’d asked him about it. “Fittin’ in with these clients.” 

“Let me just…” you doubled back to the entrance to the store and went inside. 

The watch was more than you thought it would be. A lot more. So, so much more. You watched as the sale’s person’s eyes went from encouraging and hopeful to let down when you reacted to the price. 

“One second,” you smiled sheepishly and pulled out your phone, going into your banking app. Even after spending an arm and a leg on yourself that day, the number in your personal checking account seemed obscenely high. More money than you’d ever had at once until very, very recently. You could afford the watch. You looked at the sales person and smiled. 

“I’ll take it.” 

You had several very strong cocktails when out to dinner with Sarah that night to make yourself feel a little better about spending thousands of dollars on things like clothes and a watch and she just smiled. 

“See, Mom? You spent some money on yourself and the apocalypse did not happen, I think you can actually buy yourself things from time to time.” 

“And things for your dad,” you said. “Because he needs nice things, too.” 

When you got home, Joel insisted that you model the dress for him. 

“It needs to be tailored,” you tried to protest. 

“Not for me to take it off you it doesn’t,” he smiled from his spot on the couch, beer in hand. 

“Fine,” you said. “But only if you let me model everything I bought and you can’t return any of it.” 

“Deal.” 

You went to your bedroom and put on the dress and the shoes and took the watch out of the bag, the face almost comically large on your wrist, before going back to the living room, hem of the dress in hand. 

“Jesus Christ Baby,” he looked at you, his eyes wide. “You look… fuck me.” 

“That is the idea,” you winked. “You like it?” 

“Like is a fuckin’ understatement,” he said, getting up and walking around you slowly, his eyes going up and down your body. “You know, Evie’s at a friend’s for two more hours…” 

“So you’re not going to make me return anything I have on?” You asked. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Not this dress?” You started unzipping the side before sliding the straps down your arms. 

“Dress stays,” he said, gently tugging it down and exposing your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts. 

“What about the shoes?” You asked, putting a sandaled foot out from below the hem. He glanced down, eyes ranging over the straps. 

“Those stay, too,” he said, going back to kissing your chest. “Everything you’ve got on stays, already agreed to that.” 

“Good,” you said as he made it to your neck. “Even this?” 

You held up your wrist, the watch sliding down your arm. 

He frowned, looking at it. 

“Don’t look like you’re style,” he said. “But if it makes you happy, Baby, keep it.” 

“Never said it was for me, Joel,” you smiled a little. You watched him piece it together, taking a moment for him to dawn on him. 

“No,” he shook his head, looking from your arm to your face. “No, you were supposed to get stuff for yourself for a change not…” 

“I did get stuff for me,” you said. “And I got this for you. Because you’re wearing suits more now and I wanted you to have the watch for that. So really, it is for me.” 

He took your wrist gently in one hand, elbow in the other, tilting your arm this way and that to look at the watch in different lights. 

“Baby, this…” he shook his head again. “This is too much, this is…” 

“Not for you,” you cut him off. “Not after everything you’ve given me. This is not enough. But it’s a start. Besides, you said I got to keep everything I was wearing. You already agreed to it, Miller.” 

“Baby,” he sighed. 

“Joel,” you smiled a little. “You’re my husband. Let me give you something nice. Please.” 

He brought the inside of your wrist to his lips and kissed you there, making your pulse flutter against his mouth. 

“Already gave me the best thing there is,” he said. “Anything more feels like I’m stealin’ it.” 

“Steal whatever you want, Miller,” you teased. “But you’re keeping the watch.” 

Joel ended up wearing the watch often. Not as much as the Sarah watch - and he stuck with the Sarah watch for her wedding - but at least once a week for meetings where he needed to dress up for. Every time you gave him a little knowing smile and every time he rolled his eyes a little before kissing you goodbye. But you had yet to get him to accept anything like it in the years since, Joel trying to dodge everything every time you spent money on him. 

So when his birthday was around the corner, you were bound and determined to get him something good. 

“Anything you want for your birthday?” You asked as you, Joel and Ellie wandered around a street fair, meandering towards the car show. “Anything you want to do?” 

“S’not like it’s a big one,” he shrugged. “Just 56. Would love to see all my girls, of course. Could use some new tongs for the grill.” 

“Tongs?” Ellie said, brows raised. “Seriously? Old people are so WEIRD.” 

“You know what kiddo?” Joel smiled a little, faking exasperation. “We’ll see how you’re doin’ when you’re pushin’ 60.” 

“Ew,” she crinkled her nose and wandered to the first car in the row of vehicles on display. You laughed, strolling along with Joel until he stopped at a beautiful old convertible, giving a low whistle. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Just a pretty fuckin’ car,” he said, his hands in his pockets as he walked slowly around it. “Always wanted one of these when I was a kid.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, getting an idea. 

“Neighbor had one,” he nodded. “Let me ride in the back once. Coolest fuckin’ car.” 

He looked over every inch of the thing and Ellie caught up with you while he did, pouting a little as she leaned on the door of the car, her chin propped on her folded arms. 

“I’m starving,” she groaned. “Can I go get some fries at least?” 

“Sure,” you laughed a little, pulling some cash out of your pocket. “Grab me a lemonade, too?” 

You watched as she went to the food stands and you and Joel moved on, walking slowly down the row of cars when Ellie caught up with you again, passing you the lemonade. Joel stole a fry from her cup. 

“Hey!” She protested. “Go get your own!” 

“Might have to,” he said, giving her a wink. “Back in a sec.” 

You waited until he was out of earshot before you grabbed Ellie. 

“Do me a favor,” you said. “That car we were looking at? The blue one? Can you go talk to the owner and find out what make, model and year it is?” 

“I guess,” she frowned. “Why?” 

“Because,” you said. “I found something your dad wants besides tongs.” 

You went and stood in line with Joel, keeping him distracted while Ellie did recon. She took some pictures of the car and texted you all the information which you texted to Andrew as Joel drove home from the fair. 

“Can you help me find this car?” You asked him. “One that’s for sale?”

“Becoming a collector?” He texted back. 

“Joel’s birthday,” you added a smilie face emoji. 

“Excellent,” he replied. “I’ll find you something, don’t worry.” 

It took a few weeks but Andrew found the car. A blue 1967 Mustang Convertible that was being sold down in San Antonio. He went down with you to help you test drive it - you didn’t know a damn thing about cars - and you bought it on the spot. 

“He’s going to freak the fuck out,” Andrew said, driving it home since you couldn’t drive stick. “Seriously, you might give the man a heart attack…” 

You rolled your eyes but laughed all the same. 

“I really hope he loves it,” you said, running your fingers over the dash. 

“I’ll take it off your hands if he doesn’t,” Andrew smiled. “Just don’t tell Jess.” 

Tommy agreed to store the car in his garage until Joel’s party at his house in two weeks and you were giddy as you drove home, feeling like a kid at Christmas as you tried to keep the car a secret. 

By the time the party rolled around, even Ellie was excited and having a hard time holding it together. 

“It’s really just a cookout at Tommy’s,” Joel said as the three of you piled in the car to head over. “Not sure why you two are actin’ like we’re going to fuckin’ Six Flags…” 

“Tommy’s cooler than you,” Ellie said. “Nice to spend time with someone who isn’t a total dinosaur…” 

“Alright, in the car kiddo,” Joel smiled and shook his head a little. “Can’t take you anywhere ’til seatbelts are on, let’s go!” 

You texted Tommy that you were on the way and he responded with a picture of the car, shiny in his driveway with a big, red bow on the hood. 

“He’s going to lose his mind, Kid,” he texted back. “Please tell Maria I want this same treatment when I’m old.” 

“Better put in some work to deserve it, Miller,” you replied, smiling a little. 

Joel parked on the street, frowning at the car in Tommy’s driveway. 

“When the hell’d Tommy get a Mustang?” He got out, his frown deepening. You almost laughed. 

“He didn’t,” you smiled, so big it was like your face was going to crack. 

Joel looked confused for half a moment before his mouth dropped open in shock. 

“No,” he shook his head. Ellie leaned between the front seats, grinning hugely, “No, no that’s… Baby. No.” 

“Suck it up, old man,” Ellie smirked as Sarah and Brandon came out of the house, little Carson making a beeline for the car. Sarah and Brandon waved as Tommy and Maria joined them in the yard. Ellie pulled the keys out of her pocket and dangled them between you and Joel. He took them, staring at them in his hand for a second.

“Should take it before I do,” Tommy hollered and you laughed as you got out of the car and followed an almost dazed Joel toward the Mustang. 

He walked, in awe, around the car twice. 

“I…” he said but stopped, staring at the convertible for a moment. “I don’t….” 

“Do you like it?” You asked, coming up beside him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Fuckin’ love it,” he said, immediately looking at you. “But Baby, this is too much, way too much, I can’t…” 

“Yes you can,” you smiled up at him. He looked down at you, the awed expression still on his face. “After everything you’ve done for me? For us? Everything you’ve sacrificed, all the ways you take care of me and our girls? The life you gave me? Still not enough, Joel. Not for you.” 

He pulled you tight to him and kissed the top of your head. 

“I love you,” he said, his voice wet. “So goddamn much, Baby.” 

Tommy set up chairs and a table in the front yard so everyone could sit near the car while celebrating Joel. He kept looking over at it in disbelief before looking at you with eyes filled with gratitude and wonder. You couldn’t remember the last time your heart felt quite so full. 

You drove Ellie home, following slowly behind Joel in the new convertible. 

“OK I know what this shit means,” Ellie said, gesturing between you and Joel after you got home, your husband clutching you to his side. “Try to keep it down and not be gross about it because ugh.” 

“Was actually going to see if you wanted to take the car for a spin,” you smiled up at Joel. “Just you and me. Assuming Ellie will behave herself and actually go to bed at a reasonable time.” 

“Anything to get away from whatever that is,” Ellie said, smiling a little as she went to her room. You laughed. 

“So,” you said, once she closed the door to her room. You looked up at Joel, smiling. “Care to take me for a ride, Mr. Miller?” 

He grinned.

“Whatever you say, Mrs. Miller.” 

He took you through town slowly, down quiet side streets filled with sleeping people and past businesses that had closed for the night, until the two of you ended up at a large park on the edge of town where things were a little darker and you could see some of the stars. 

“I can’t believe you got me a car, Baby,” he said, his hands running over the steering wheel. His smile was so big you could see it even in the dim light of the moon. “It’s really…” 

“If you say it’s too much again, Joel, I will go and buy you a second one on principle.” 

He laughed at that. 

“I was gonna say it was the best gift I��ve ever gotten,” he said, turning to look at you. “Besides you and the girls of course.” 

“Oh, of course,” you smiled. 

He leaned in and kissed you gently. 

“Not sure what I did to deserve you,” he said. “But I sure am grateful for it.” 

Your kiss shifted and you started climbing over the center console, Joel taking a second to move his seat all the way back. You bunched your skirt around your hips and settled over him, kissing him harder, more eager. 

“I’m pretty damn grateful for you,” you whispered against his mouth, his hands going to your hips. You ground down on him and he moaned, pressing his hard length up against you through his jeans. “And I think the birthday boy should get laid in his dream car.” 

“Dream car,” he said, kissing you. “Dream woman.” He kissed you again. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday.” 

You unzipped his fly as you kissed him and tucked your panties to the side, notching his cock against your entrance. He moaned as you sank slowly down onto him, taking all of him inside of you, savoring how he filled you. 

You started slowly, just grinding him deeper into you as you kissed him, his tongue licking into your mouth. 

“You feel fuckin’ amazing Baby,” he moaned, kissing down your throat until he reached your breasts, cleavage bared in your v-neck top. “Always feel so damn good…” 

He was thrusting up into you, trying to set his own pace, and you decided to allow that, matching him stroke for stroke as he groaned below you. His hands ranged up your back, pawing at your shirt until be was able to raise it enough to slide below it and get at your skin with a satisfied moan. He clutched you close, so close that you could hardly move over him anymore. Instead, he fucked up into you, making you whimper and your channel tighten around him. 

“C’mon Baby,” he grunted, voice strained. “Want you to come for me. All I want now is you to come for me, come all over me, fuck Baby…” 

You bit down on his shoulder to keep quiet, the sounds of crickets and cicadas on the air as you came, your sex throbbed around him. You whimpered against him as you came down from your high and he kept working you, his grip on you tightening. 

“Fuck Baby,” he gasped. “Feel too good, I’m gonna… fuck… I’m…” 

He cut himself off with a groan, thrusting deep and filling you, his grip on you relaxing enough that you could sit up a little. You looked at him in the moonlight his eyes closed, a blissed out look on his face. You smiled a little, brushing his more unruly curls back from his forehead. 

“I love you so much, Baby,” he smiled a little, eyes still closed. 

“So I did alright for your birthday?” You teased lightly, his softening cock still buried inside you. 

He laughed. 

“Did perfect,” he tugged you close enough that he could kiss you again, careful to not push you back against the horn. “Perfect fuckin’ birthday, perfect fuckin’ woman, perfect fuckin’ wife.” 

“Good,” you smiled, kissing him. “You deserve it, Joel. You deserve the world.” 

[mariatesstruther]

okay just hear me out modern au where tommy ends up picking up ellie from pre school almost everyday since joel is busy but he keeps meeting teacher maria

okay bestie as a preschool teacher you GOT me with this one. like you got me SO GOOD. this might actually get published to ao3, you got me soooo fuckin’ good right now. i have so many unnecessary details for such a simple plot so here’s a cut

tbh i feel like even as busy as joel is, he’d prioritize picking up and dropping of sarah as much as he can, so maybe he and tommy would alternate???? so on days when tommy drops off, joel picks up and when joel drops off, tommy picks up. sarah goes to a public preschool with a lot of kids, so she gets easily overwhelmed and sometimes needs extra cuddles or kind words in the mornings to make it out of the car.

one monday, a couple months into school, sarah is particularly VERY anxious because there’s a new teacher to replace ms. doherty, who quit unexpectedly on friday “because she said we gave her alooooottt of headaches, daddy.” now, sarah knows nothing about the new teacher except that shes a girl from a place called new york—and sarah doesn’t even know what new yawk IS like, thats So Far Away??? (“it’s not really that far, baby,” joel says to her. “and it’s new york. with an o sound.”) still, sarah is VERY concerned:

is new yawk like another planet???? (no, babygirl.) but what if she’s an alien???? (the school only hires human teachers, baby. they promised.) but what if she’s a SECRET alien??? (she won’t be, i promise.) okay but what if she’s mean???? (if she is, you tell me or tommy and we’ll talk to her about it, okay? she shouldn’t be mean to you.) what if she doesn’t play good music at quiet time???? (you can ask her nicely and i bet she will, baby. just say please and thank you, okay?)

still, even with her questions answered, sarah is very nervous on monday. both joel and tommy go with her in an effort to start her day off extra good, especially because joel can’t pick her up. they reassure her that new york has plenty of nice people and her new teacher will probably be one of them. she also gets TWO WHOLE extra minutes of cuddle time with BOTH of them before she and daddy have to leave the car—it’s half for her and half for them, because they’re honestly pretty anxious for her to like her new teacher too

joel is the one to hold sarah’s hand and walk her inside, because the school prefers only one guardian to drop off at a time. tommy’s nervous, but joel actually seems pretty pleased when he gets back to the car with no sarah in tow. surprisingly, he’s back faster than any time they’ve ever dropped sarah off before. with a proud smile, he tells tommy is that miss maria seems really nice. more importantly, she’s Black, which joel says Sarah got really excited about. tommy pries for more details, and he’s glad he does: apparently miss maria has locs, a few even blue and purple, and the first thing sarah’d said to her was an emphatic “😲😍🤩 i like your hair!!!!!!!!,” to which she had responded “thank you! i like your hair! what’s your name, sweets?” and that’d been that

later, when tommy does pickup that day, he doesn’t know what to expect. most times at the end of the day, sarah is super reserved and a bit cranky, eager to get home to finally have time to herself. tommy’s goal is usually to try and get her to at least wave goodbye to her teachers like joel asks—but, more often than not, she opts for reaching for uppies and hiding her face in his chest until they leave.

today??? no. it takes sarah a full two minutes to even notice tommy’s there because her and this drop-dead-fucking-gorgeous woman in a soft-looking lavender pants and blouse set are finishing up a painting at the easel wall. they’re working on what looks like a brown and purple butterfly, probably the most carefully shaped sarah’s ever made.

tommy’s heart stops when this goddess miss maria finally looks over at him and smiles with perfect pearly-whites, waving him over behind sarah’s back. when she says “sarah honey, i think someone’s here for you!” in her sing-songy toddler-tone, tommy swears an angel gets his wings. sarah turns around, shrieks with joy upon seeing him, and runs down to him with her arms out, yelling all the while: “THOMMYYYYYYY!!!!!”—because sarah’s still working on her hard ts—“thommy!!!! thommy thommy thommy come look!!! i made a butterfly for u!!!!! look!!!!! it matches ms. maria!!!!!! it’s gorgeous!!!!” (she’s been obsessed with calling things gorgeous ever since she heard tommy say it about a harley motorbike last week. joel especially thinks it’s cute, especially because of how she over-emphasizes the j-sound: gor-Jus.)

tommy’s never seen her so excited to show her art off at pickup-time before; usually, she waits until they’re home and she’s feeling less shy to start showing off, but she’s babbling and pointing to it as he picks her up and sets her on his hip: “it’s brown and purple like miss maria!!! isnt it so gorgeous, unca thommy??? do you like it???? aren’t they SO gorgeous????”

and now miss maria is looking at him. and he’s looking at her. tommy knows he’s blushing, and he hesitates—which sarah does NOT appreciate, so she says: “unca tommy!!!!!!! don’t be WUDE! thell miss maria she’s gorgeous!!! she is!!!”

luckily, miss maria saves him by explaining, in a slightly firmer teaching voice: “sarah sweets, that’s okay! we’re only just meeting, and that’s not really something you say to a stranger, okay?”

“but why noooooooot?? you are gorgeous! like my butterfly! isn’t she so gorgeous, thommy?”

“well, yeah, of course,” tommy agrees easily, because she obviously is—and shit. now miss maria is looking at him like he’s a fucking bonehead, because he obviously fucking is. “but—uh, i mean—she’s right, hon’. you gotta listen to your teacher, and that’s not somethin’ you say to a stranger, okay?”

but then, after thinking to her tiny self for a few seconds: “well if she stays my teacher then she’s not a stranger, is she???” sarah asks tommy, then turns her conniving little head towards maria, too. “and you said you’d stay! so can he say you’re gorgeous tomorrow?” then, without waiting for an answer, she’s back towards tommy to finish: “i think you should call her gorgeous tomorrow.”

“i think we should go home, s’what i think,” tommy says, finally deciding to save himself from four-year-old torment. he sets sarah down and pats her on the end with a gentle but firm request to go get her stuff from her cubby, which she goes to do without her complaints of being too tired to walk. maria watches them closely with a close-lipped but relaxed grin. when sarah’s out of earshot, he apologizes. “sorry ‘bout that, ma’am.”

“don’t be,” miss maria teases, crossing her arms. “you did call me gorgeous, after all. i’ve had worse introductions.”

“tommy miller,” he offers, moving to shake her hand. he notices her nails are done-up, a sparkly blend of pretty shades of purple that look tie-dyed on somehow. her hands aren’t soft, not really, but they’re smooth enough to make him shiver as he pulls away. “sarah’s uncle.”

“oh, i know,” she reassures, then nods her head pointedly towards sarah. the little one is coming back towards them with her lunchbox in one hand and her water bottle in the other, walking extra careful so she doesn’t trip over herself like she did last week, tommy guesses. clearly fond, maria continues. “she spent all day telling me about you and her daddy. you’re doing great with her.”

“unca thommy! i’m ready to go!” sarah sing-songs, interrupting whatever miss maria might’ve said next. internally, tommy thanks his niece—the you’re doing great was already enough to make him cry, and he’d rather not do so in front of either her or her amazing new teacher. plopping her lunch and bottle at tommy’s feet, sarah gives not one, but two eager waves to miss maria, hands flapping madly up towards the woman’s face. “bye miss mariaaaaa!!!! i’ll see you tomorrow!!!!”

“bye sarah sweets!” maria says back, waving just as enthusiastically. to tommy, she raises an amused, teasing eyebrow. just loud enough for him to hear as he turns away, he hears her say “bye, gorgeous,” and laugh, giving yet another angel a pair of wings.

it takes everything in him to not fall straight to the floor, toppling his own precious niece, right then. he doesn’t think he even breathes until both he and Sarah are secured in the car, him in the front and her in her carseat. she’s already babble singing mary j. blige’s “just fine,” which they usually play and sing on their way home from school to help her regulate. when he plays the song this time, sarah smiles bright at him through the rearview and says “i already feel just fine, unca tommy!!! but can we still play it, just for fun?”

“of course, baby,” he says, and start singing along with her. he’s feeling just fine, too.

🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

tagging some homies (btw just let me know if u wanna be tagged in this kinda stuff or not guys! im never sure lol): @becomethesun @clickergossip @boilingcowboy @bumblepony

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Ten Minute Blood Stain Removal

Requested by: @princess-charming-01 Your support means the world to me so I hope this lives up to your expectations. Keep being awesome, bestie!

Word Count: 11,000

Warnings: Some language, quite a few insults, ableism bashing, Kol being super sweet, and Bekah being the best friend ever

Summary: Rebekah was a good friend to you - the best, really. Klaus, well the two of you were by no means close but he trusted you and that was enough. Elijah always made sure you were paid well, which you appreciated. As for Kol? Well, you'd never met the guy and you didn't want to. You had enough problems in your life without a raging hedonist to upend your convictions. || Kol x reader || Here lies my Masterlist ||

Story Begins Below

Working as a housekeeper for the Mikaelson family was an… interesting profession to say the least. Although, when listening to your friends complain about how miserable their jobs were, at the very least you could claim that you never got bored at work. They always asked how that was possible, especially in your chosen profession, but they'd never believe you. Though, of course, that wouldn't matter anyway. It wasn't as if you could tell them why…

Not that you were complaining! Whining about your situation had never been your style, and your situation really wasn't bad. 

Really. 

Okay, so maybe it wasn't ideal, but this was New Orleans. There were plenty of jobs far, far worse in places infinitely less savory than the French Quarter. Honestly, you should have been more grateful. You hadn't exactly been raised in the best of districts so you were beyond lucky to get a private contract with such a prestigious estate and benefits-wise, you were living the dream. The members of the Mikaelson family were pretty chill (in a manner of speaking) for rich people, all things considered; the wages they paid you were generous, and the hours were reasonable, with a plentiful number of paid vacation days supplied (sometimes spontaneously with little to no warning). The job really only had one downside. But that was just it because, well…

Being employed by 4 original vampires is one hell of a downside.

That one big whopper of a workplace hazard also came with quite a few subsequent inconveniences but you were used to it by now. Fortunately, walking in on a pile of corpses is a thing that gets easier over time. Hell, after your 23rd stack of cadavers, you even stopped throwing up!

Admittedly, now that you looked back on it, the experience that was your discovery of the supernatural could have been a lot worse. You were lucky that only Rebekah was home at the time and that she was feeling a need for feminine companionship. You liked Rebekah. She was more emotionally conscious than Klaus or Elijah and you were grateful she had the patience and kindness to calm your hysterics before gently telling you what the hell was going on. Rebekah also had the decency to apologize when she explained the concept of compulsion to you and why she had to ensure your silence regarding the truth. It was for both your safety and theirs that you kept your mouth shut. You recognized that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but you appreciated that she presented it as if you did. After she finished, you felt alright enough to ask her - in all caution, if she would restrict your free will as little as possible. You didn’t want to end up like the other staff members who acted like little more than drones. 

She agreed, admitting that it would be nice to have a friend around rather than another robot. Thus, she only compelled you not to reveal your knowledge of the supernatural to anyone outside the compound. Your emotions and mind remained your own and you counted yourself lucky. Had it been one of her brothers instead, you probably would have become another blood bag (Klaus) or a zombie (Elijah). 

Though, you weren’t sure what Kol would have done. Rebekah's third brother hadn't been around much since you'd started working so you didn't really know him. You had only ever seen the guy once or twice and only in passing. Kol didn't pay you a lick of attention and you didn't exactly want him to either. Judging from the blonde vampire's description of her most troublesome sibling, he sounded… spontaneous at best and downright volatile at worst. You didn't need any more of that in your life - that was what your best friend was for. Rebekah was enough for you.

How the two of you became friends is a mystery you didn't think you would ever solve. She was just so much more than you would ever be - so much more interesting and beautiful and capable. Why she actively chose to spend her time with you was beyond your understanding. But the two of you had fun together and her vampiric nature didn't bother you as much as it should have. Besides, being friends with an original vampire did have its perks. Bekah was always there to look out for you - protect you - even from her brothers.

"Here comes the weekend!" You cheered, crossing one of the compound's many lounges on a particularly pleasant Louisiana afternoon, practically skipping as you went. Not including this space, you had one more room to clean. ONE MORE and then you were off! 

Rebekah, who happened to be lounging on a sofa, immersed in her phone, glanced up, slightly baffled and significantly unimpressed.

"I hate to break this to you, but tomorrow's Thursday, lovely," She said gently. 

"I don't care, it's my weekend!" You exclaimed, still cheering the words, fists raised high in the air. 

She thought about that for a moment. "Touché. I suppose it is." Rebekah nodded. “Can’t believe it’s already Wednesday though. I swear it was Saturday just five minutes ago.” 

“Oh yeah, and yesterday was June,” You teased. It was actually the middle of January but you’d discovered that vampires just had a really hard time keeping track of dates. Of the three vampires you thought you knew somewhat well, none of them could measure time for shit. Elijah was the best but even he had the annoying tendency to reference the fourteen hundreds like they were last week.

Rebekah just grinned and tapped her nose. “See? Now you’re getting it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Speak for yourself, blondie. This week’s been dragging on forever.” (You were proud to say that you were the only human alive who could call that girl “Blondie” and live to tell the tale.)

“Eh. You don’t know the first thing about forever,” She quipped, waving her hand dismissively, distracted once again by something on her phone. You just shook your head and chuckled, pulling out a cloth and some furniture polish as you got to work on the side table next to her. She absentmindedly lifted a potted plant off the wood so you could clean underneath.

Watching her do things like that still weirded you out. Held in a hand-crafted ceramic vase that you were pretty sure was an antique, it wasn’t as if that plant was some small succulent. The thing was a healthy bird of paradise shrub as long as your arm. Altogether, the decoration must have weighed thirty or so pounds (and cost more than your college tuition) yet Rebekah pinched the rim between two fingers and picked it up as if it were a feather. You finished polishing the table and moved on. Behind you, your friend dragged her eyes from her phone again and a frown curled her lips as she pushed herself to sit up. You didn’t have to look at her to know she was regarding you with a critical eye - it was only friendly though. 

"You know, Y/N, if I didn't know better, I'd think you hated your job," She declared after a moment.

You tossed her a smirk over your shoulder as you dusted the mantlepiece. "I do hate my job."

"Oh, come off it!" She scoffed. "It's not as if we torture you!"

You turned around slowly, raising a brow. "Bex, your brother is literally painting with the blood of his enemies again.”

"Oh, bloody hell. Not again."

"Yes. Again. I swear, you walk into that studio and it's like somebody handed a toddler some suspicious lookin' finger paint!” You exclaimed, tossing your hands in the air. “And do ya know who has to clean up after him?"

"You?" She guessed timidly, her expression sympathetic.

"Ding! Ding! Ding!" You groaned, rolling your eyes as you put the last ornament back on the mantle. "If that's not the definition of torture then I don't know what is." You crossed the room to a door at the far end of the lounge, the one that led to your final room for the day. As you reached out to turn the handle, Rebekah's voice called you to a halt.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," She warned nonchalantly. You sighed deeply.

"Do I even want to know?"

"I doubt it."

"Figures, who was it?" You demanded. "Which pair of eyes do I need to spray some Windex into?" 

The girl furrowed her brow, confused. "Did no one tell you?" 

"Did no one tell me what?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably. You didn't like feeling uninformed.

"Kol's come back," She sighed, tone somewhat grim. "That's his handiwork in there. I counted twenty-two, you're welcome."

"Twenty two bodies?"

"Yup."

You pursed your lips into a line. No. Just, no.

"Yeah, not today Satan," You said with a dry grimace. "YO! GERRETTA!" The older maid wouldn't mind. You didn't think she could mind as you were pretty sure she'd already had a stroke and the only thing keeping her going was Klaus' compulsion. Either she’d clean up the ghastly mess in the room beyond or another one of the zombie staff would. If she responded to your yelling, you didn’t hear it. That was no surprise, however. Your hearing aids were good but they weren’t that good.

You glanced at the blonde girl expectantly and Rebekah spoke up. “Yes, she heard you.”

You nodded to her and called to the maid again. “GERRETTA, THE HALL OFF OF THE SECOND UPSTAIRS LOUNGE NEEDS SOME TLC!” You cast your eyes on your friend again.

“She says she’ll send Sofie up to take care of it,” The girl relayed. You thanked her with a thumbs up.

That was another thing you loved about her. Bekah had never thought of you as broken or in need of charity. To her, you were just like anyone else and deserved just as much consideration. She’d even asked you to teach her ASL, though she mostly used it to insult her brothers. 

“Which one’s Sophie again?” She asked, squinting as if trying to remember but you doubted she had ever bothered to learn the staff’s names in the first place. You couldn’t exactly blame her - Sophie was another one of the zombies.

“Uh… Red hair? Nose piercing?”

“Oh, yeah…” Your friend mused absently. “I think she’s the one Kol likes…”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed harshly. For some reason, you doubted that it was your fellow maid’s personality that Rebekah’s brother had a fondness for. You liked Sophie, she was your friend… sort of. The family’s compulsion over its staff members was rendered entirely latent when the individuals left the compound - they were themselves again, just without any memory of the supernatural. They were all really great people, actually. Sophie was close to your own age; you had hung out with her a few times around the quarter. She was nice. 

You desperately hoped that her blood wouldn’t be the next stain you had to remove from the upholstery. 

You shook away the chill that dripped down your spine, jabbing your thumb towards that door and raising a brow as you faced Bekah again. "So, I take it somebody had a bad day?"

"No, actually that's the product of a good day, believe it or not," She mused, lips tight.

You didn’t know Kol - not really - and you weren’t typically one to judge others. However, while the Mikaelsons would usually dispose of the corpses themselves, blood stains were still miserable to remove from furniture. Not to mention the stench caused by internal organs spontaneously becoming external organs was almost harder to purge from a room than skunk spray. So sure, you didn’t know Kol, but he was setting quite the pretense with his behavior, and anything that served to make your job unnecessarily difficult didn’t exactly lend itself to improving your opinion of him.

"Yeah, your family sucks.” You huffed. “No offense."

"None taken."

"Good. 

"Good." 

"Guess that means I'm done for the day," You announced, trying to remain bright despite the looming sense of dread beginning to build in the back of your mind. Luckily, you were pretty good at ignoring your problems.

“Excellent! Now you can help me!” The girl smirked and patted the spot on the couch beside her. You faked a miserable groan as you moved to sit and she flipped her phone around, allowing you a glimpse at the beautiful deep green dress displayed on the screen. “What do you think about this?” She asked. 

The article of clothing looked like it had to cost more than your entire apartment complex and you wondered if you would ever get used to the Mikaelsons and their ungodly wealth - or any aspect of them at all, for that matter. You probably wouldn’t.

“That would look gorgeous on you, Bex.” You hummed, smiling. “But then again, everything does so that’s not saying too much.”

It was very telling that, despite being infinitely older and more powerful than you, she still sought your opinion on clothes and looks. You often thought that Bekah wasn’t really one-thousand years old - rather, she’d just been seventeen one-thousand times. Because, although she snickered about it, waving you off, you could see a slight blush coloring her cheeks. Casual compliments did little to impress her, but honest ones always warmed her heart. So you gave them as often as you could.

“Its a blessing and a curse,” She hummed. “But, no, I was actually thinking for you, love.”

“Oh.” Your brows must have shot to the ceiling. “Well in that case, I wouldn’t be caught dead in it and it’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever laid eyes upon.”

“Alright.” Rebekah shrugged, going back to scrolling. “I suppose I’ll simply have to find you something more expensive.”

“Wha- No! I can’t- Why would you- That’s insane! No!” You stammered, reeling with shock. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. This one’s really not that much,” The blonde scoffed. 

“I saw the price tag,” You said, crossing your arms. “It’s like thirty thousand dollars.”

Though the girl kept talking as if she hadn’t heard you say that. “The jewels are only costume-”

“Glass may not be diamond but it ain’t plastic either.”

 “The fur on the collar is synthetic-”

“Why is that a bad thing? Who are you - Cruella DeVill?”

“I’m looking at the sheer on it-”

“The what?”

“The see through layer covering the actual dress.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, anyway that part looks like organdy to me, so it’s not like its muslin or anything.”

“I may not know what either of those things are, but both of them sound more expensive than brain surgery.” You shot her a meaningful look that was supposed to be stern. As if you could chastise a one-thousand-year-old fashionista. “You can’t make any of this sound cheap.”

“Honeslty, Y/N! It’s not even made of silk!”

“Oh yeah?” You raised a brow, challengingly. “What’s it made of then?”

She licked her lips. “Cashmere.” You narrowed your eyes and pulled out your phone, laying back so she couldn’t see what you were doing. Google was your ally when dealing with Rebekah. “What is it? What are you looking at?” She demanded, craning her neck in an attempt to glimpse the screen. You didn’t respond and just leaned further away. A moment later, you flicked your eyes to meet her’s over the top of your phone.

“You do realize how that’s not better, right?” You criticized, giving her a flat look.

“It is if you have sense,” She mumbled, though not so softly that you couldn't hear. You appreciated that. It always made you insecure when you couldn’t hear what another person was saying about you, especially when that person claimed to be your friend. You’d been burned before by fake nice girls, but Bekah was different. She was the most genuine person you’d ever met.

You snorted, stretching out. “Dude, you’re talking to someone who’s definition of splurging is dinner at Applebee’s followed by a DQ shake.”

“Alright, it’s official: You’re impossible.” She huffed, tossing her phone onto an armchair across the room.

“I’m impossible?” You questioned. 

“You’re the only person I know who would rather wear a bloody polyester t-shirt than a cashmere dress!” The blonde girl rubbed her temples, feigning exasperation.

“I fail to see how that’s a problem.”

“And that in itself is the problem.” 

“No it’s not!”

Bekah turned to watch you and her expression grew somewhat weary. You regarded her curiously and a few heartbeats passed before she spoke again. “You know, I honestly sometimes wonder how we’re friends,” She said, sounding more than a little morose. “You must think me so shallow.”

“You’re not shallow,” You started. She shot you a doubtful look and you rolled your eyes, tossing an arm around her shoulder. Insecurities are the worst so you hugged her tight. “Seriously, Bex. You’re not. You’re a person, and I don’t think people can be defined by some callused label we slap on them to explain a few behaviors. Sure, you can be blunt, but it’s only honest and I like that about you. Sure, you like dresses and makeup and all those sorts of things, but that doesn’t make you vain. You find beauty in the things around you and in yourself. Gotta be honest, I’m a little jealous of that.”

She smiled softly, shaking her head but she didn’t meet your eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“You know me, Bex. You know I don’t just say things for the hell of it.” You stooped down to meet her gaze, forcing her to look at you. “I’m not gonna say that you’re reserved or something because you’re not. You’re easily the least frugal person I know, but that doesn’t make you conceited. I mean, you pass hundred dollar bills to every street musician you pass and I think back to just last month; the day before Christmas Eve, you went out and bought dinners for every homeless person on the streets of the French Quarter - just because you could. That doesn’t sound too shallow to me.”

You smiled gently and she returned it. 

“Thanks, Y/N/N.”

“You’re welcome,” You said. “It’s still a no on the dress though.”

The blonde girl gave a slight chuckle, faking a pout. “Why not?”

You sent her an incredulous look and leaned back on the couch, closing your eyes. “Be honest with yourself, girl. Where, when, and why the hell would I ever need to wear something like that?”

“My family is holding a winter gala here in about a week or so. You could wear it there.” She suggested.

“Things like that are only fun if you have a date,” You pointed out.

“Those are rather easy to come by, so I’ve heard,” Bekah sang, nudging your shoulder.

You snorted. “For you maybe. You’re gorgeous, rich, fun, and you like people.”

The girl made a rather unladylike noise in rebuff. “Come on, love. You know its time you start putting yourself out there.”

“Do I know that?” You mused.

“Yes.”

“Well that’s a surprise, considering the magic eight ball I asked yesterday said Hell No.” 

“Hell No isn’t even an answer on one of those things,” She insisted.

“Then it must have really meant it.”

“Why are you so against trying to find someone?” She wondered, sitting up to watch your expression.

You smirked. “Because relationships are icky, and boys have cooties.”

The girl smacked your knee lightly. “That’s not true, and you know it. You just have to find the right one,” She said. 

“I already have,” You pouted childishly.

“Yes, but I’m taken and Sean Connery is dead,” She quipped without missing a beat.

You tapped your heart. “Not in here he’s not.”

Rebekah groaned, tossing her head back in defeat. “You really are impossible.”

“Then give up on me.” 

“Any sane person would,” She said. “But unfortunately for you, I believe in love.”

“Ah, so you admit that love is otherwise unlikely to befall me!” You laughed.

“That is not what I-”

“It’s called sophism, honey.”

Rebekah huffed. “That’s it! I’m buying you dinner.”

“Wait, what? A wicked grin split your friend's face and you held up your hands. "No… No! Down Bekah! You're not buying me anything - not this time. Down girl!"

Suffice it to say that her will was stronger than yours that day and that's how you found yourself curled up on the couch of her family's home theater, cuddling a wooly mammoth plush that you had named Lieutenant Nose. After several hours of window shopping, you were more than relieved when she invited you back to her house for a movie night. The two of you had decided on watching the best film of all time. A.K.A The Princess Bride.

"What kind of name is Buttercup anyway?" Rebekah wondered, tossing a couple of pieces of popcorn into her mouth.

"What kind of name is any name?" You countered, shrugging. “What makes a name good or bad?”

"Whether or not it starts with Inigo and ends with Montoya," She replied immediately, holding out her hand for a high five.

"Right on!" 

 Both of you glanced at each other and grinned. 

"Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father. Prepare to die!" The two of you quoted in unison. You reached forward to "stab" your friend, quickly dodging her attempt to do the same. You had to roll off the couch to avoid her but managed to pop up and poke her right between the ribs. 

"Ha! I win!" 

She rolled her eyes and flopped back onto the couch. You opened your mouth to tease her again but someone cut you off.

"Dearest sister, I can't believe this-" A voice like milk chocolate and silk sounded from the doorway, perfectly complementing the pair of eyes that met yours when you pushed your tangled H/C hair out of your face and turned towards the sound. "-you've slighted me!”

Your entire body froze. Of all Rebekah’s siblings, the least human-friendly one now stood just across the room from you. That distance was nothing to a vampire. He could cross the floor and have his teeth buried in your throat in the blink of an eye. 

So, you didn’t blink.

You just stared at him, eyes wide and muscles tense. To your right, Rebekah looked ready to throw herself in front of you. 

“Get out, Kol,” She ordered, clearly annoyed. The boy at the door shrugged.

“I’m afraid I just can’t do that,” He said regretfully, though not an ounce of that reluctance showed on his face as he leaned against the door frame. “Not until you pay me due recompense that is.”

Wow… You- you really liked his voice. You had seen the guy before but you’d never talked to him. This was the first time you’d ever heard him speak and that voice was downright enchanting. You felt like you could listen to him talk for hours. The boy’s voice was smooth and warm - comforting. The sound lulled you into a security that logically, you knew you really shouldn’t have felt in his presence. 

Kol was also super cute now that you got a good look at him. With dark hair and dark eyes and a smile that had no right to be as innocent as it appeared, his entire presence felt like a trap and you could practically feel yourself stepping into it.

This guy ate twenty-three people in one day, you tried to remind yourself. The notion didn’t much help because your brain just could not connect this boy to that gruesome massacre. 

“I don’t owe you anything,” Rebekah said, crossing her arms and glaring.

“That’s where you’re wrong." He grinned. His eyes flicked to you and there was this look in them. Kol looked hungry.

Oh, bloody freaking mother of pearl. You were screwed.

Your friend sighed, rolling her eyes. Clearly, her brother didn’t plan on giving up. “What are you talking about, Kol?”

The predator at the door clasped his hands behind his back, smirking in a rather self-satisfied way. “There has been a betrayal committed,” He announced. “A heavenly vision sits on the floor before me and you’ve neglected to tell me her name. Honestly, I’m offended.” Kol shifted his dark chocolate eyes to your face and smiled in what you were sure he thought was a charming way. “Hello, darling.” 

Sure, the expression was cute but you didn’t care for it. That smile only served to make you feel small and insignificant, like the prize won from a five-dollar carnival game - amusing, tiny, and something he intended to leave broken in a day or two. 

“This is Y/N. She’s my friend and she’s off limits,” Bekah sneered. 

Kol rolled his eyes. “Why must you always think the worst of me, sister?”

“Because you always give me a reason to,” She snapped. “Go find yourself a different toy.”

Kol’s gaze remained fixed solely on you. “I don’t think I will.” Then he sauntered across the room and threw himself onto a sofa a few feet away. He glanced up with a cheeky smile directed at your friend. “Relax, Bex. I have every intention to be nice to this radiant angel. No need to be so overprotective.” His tone, let alone his expression, was anything but sincere.

White-hot anger boiled up inside of you as you watched Kol smirk. He wasn't impressed or fascinated with you. The boy had never spared you so much as a glance before now. To him, you were just a new face - one he couldn't recall killing or spending a night with before. The only appeal you held was that of novelty. This act of his was just that. Sure, it was a good display, but ultimately it only spoke to just how self-obsessed he was. Rebekah's observation had been right. You were nothing more than a toy in his eyes - one he craved to break.

Rebekah’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “There’s no such thing as overprotective when it comes to you,” She hissed lowly. 

Grinding your teeth, you spoke up. “Don’t worry, Blondie. I’m sure he’ll lose interest the second he realizes I’m on the housekeeping staff.” You narrowed your eyes at the boy as you climbed back onto the couch and smiled thinly to show him that you were onto his little game.

"I hope so," She muttered, wrapping an arm protectively around your shoulders.

"I wouldn't count on it!" Both of you glared at him and Kol just shrugged. "Although, since you are on the house staff, would you perhaps make some of that popcorn stuff for me?" He bit his lip to hold back a cheeky grin. However, those puppy-dog eyes of his did nothing to encourage your determined hatred of him.

You smiled sweetly. "Absolutely not, sweetheart."

"Aw… Why so mean, love?" He whined dejectedly. 

"Because you have your own pair of legs for that,” You snipped, your voice measured and crisp. You would have to be careful around this one. He was tricky. You were pretty sure his puppy eyes weren’t even on full power and you already found yourself struggling to say no to him. 

Kol's lips twitched up at the corners and he tilted his head. "Really? That's odd because I could have sworn my family pays you for something…"

"That they do." You nodded. "Except, I'm currently off the clock, so professionally speaking, I'm not here. I.E. get off your ass and get some yourself, please and thank you."

Kol blinked. "Fair enough." Then, he got up and left the room, presumably headed for the kitchen.

Rebekah turned to you, eyes wide. "I think that's the first time I've ever seen someone win an argument with him," She said, clearly impressed. 

"Really?" You chuckled, quite pleased with yourself. 

"Well he argues like an asshole so winning is usually impossible."

"Huh." You tossed another piece of popcorn into your mouth. "Kudos to me then."

"Just don't let him charm you, alright?" She sighed, leveling you suddenly with a degree of seriousness you rarely saw in her. "I know my brother. He's just looking for entertainment - nothing more."

"You don't have to worry about me, Bex. I'm fully aware that no one would actually want to flirt with me."

"No, that's not what I-"

"Let's just watch the movie, yeah?" You didn’t mean to be terse but the words came out harsher than you’d intended them. 

"A-alright." The girl’s shoulders slumped and you could tell she was upset with herself.

You smiled and took her hand to show the girl that you weren't mad. This just wasn't something you wanted to talk about, not when Kol could hear you just a few rooms away. So, the two of you continued your movie without interruption until Kol returned about fifteen minutes later with a bowl of popcorn.

"What took you so long?" You wondered offhandedly.

The boy adopted what one might call a sheepish expression. "I may have burnt it… twice." He flopped onto the sofa again. "So, what’s this movie you girls are watching?"

"The Princess Bride," You answered smiling when you caught him grimacing. 

"That's not one of those Chick-Flick shows is it?"

"Yes!" You exclaimed readily. The lie, however, was ruined by Bekah, who answered at the same time.

"Absolutely not, I couldn't get Y/N to watch one of those with me if I paid her," She said. You sighed, pinching your nose and her eyes widened. “Oh, you wanted to-” You nodded. “Oh…”

Kol shifted on the couch to look at you, eyes gleaming like a satisfied cat's. "So is it any good?"

You rolled your eyes. "Uncultured swine," You signed to your friend. You were only now rethinking your decision to insult Kol aloud as you’d done earlier. She laughed and nodded.

"Oi!" Kol's somewhat indignant shout caught your attention and you whipped your head around to look at him. Then, to your great surprise, he signed back. "Say that to my face, why don't you?" What was even more impressive was his hands were quicker and more precise than his sister’s and you’d been teaching her for a while. 

Your jaw must have hit the floor and stayed there because it was Rebekah who reacted first. She paused the movie and rounded on him.

"Since when do you know sign language?" She demanded, both stunned and accusing.

Kol shrugged. "Since before Alexander Graham Bell was a prick, I suppose." You couldn’t help but laugh, nearly spilling some of the soda you’d been drinking. 

"That must have been before he was born, then," You hummed, unable to resist bashing the famous inventor.

"Precisely." Kol grinned and you felt something in your stomach attempt amateur gymnastics. Okay… so perhaps you'd been a little hasty in your judgment of this boy. Maybe he didn’t mean to sound superior or insincere. Perhaps he was just genuinely playful. Maybe he wasn’t actively trying to goad you into a snare. Perhaps that flirtatious attitude was simply his default setting. Maybe there was more to him than just Rebekah's warnings.

But no. Those thoughts were dangerous, not to mention presumptuous. His sister had just warned you about this exact thing! So, you tried to push those butterflies down, but it would seem that they refused to obey. 

Trying very hard not to blush, you faced your friend with a raised brow as you stuffed more popcorn in your mouth. "You know, ya’ never told me he didn't suck."

The ferocity of the blonde girl's glare increased as if she were trying to will a white oak dagger to spontaneously put her brother on a time-out. "No. I didn't."

"It's because she's jealous," Kol said in a stage whisper.

"Oh, I see," You whispered back.

“She goes to school and I’m the one who learns things.” He sighed with faux remorse, shrugging. “I just can’t help it.”

“Makes sense.” You nodded sagely.  "Thank goodness she can't hear us when we talk like this."

Your friend crossed her arms, miffed. She waited for you to look at her again. “You should really know by now, that I can, as a matter of fact, hear you. Loud and clear.”

“I think she’s onto us, love,” Kol whispered again. He shot you a wink.

Rebekah rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Bloody hell, what an astute observation!” 

You held a hand to your chest and, with an obnoxious scream, you vaulted yourself over the back of the couch. “Quick, Kol! Hide! We’re safe if she can’t see us!” 

“Oh, okay.” He too let out a laughably high-pitched scream which was followed by a loud thud and though you couldn’t see what happened, you were willing to bet that was the sound an original vampire makes when it jumps a sofa. "This floor is remarkably clean," He noted a moment later.

"You should lick it."

"Tempting, but I'd rather not."

Your best friend groaned. “You know, you’re not clever. Either of you.” She was really trying to sound annoyed but you knew her. The trembles of repressed laughter showed through her voice. That girl never got mad at you because you always knew precisely how long to keep a gag running.

“Geez, Bekah. You’re so mean!” You called from behind the couch. “I thought we were friends.”

“I thought so too!” She lamented. “I thought it was us against the world - girls versus boys. You agreed with me about him not five minutes ago, but you’ve swapped sides.”

You flushed and you were grateful neither of them could see. She had a point but you just… you couldn’t help liking Kol. Now that you actually spared him your bias, his good humor was just too easy to fall into.

"I know, I know…” You hissed. Then you popped back up from your hiding place and leaned on the back of the couch. “But he speaks the language of allies." You spared a glance toward where Kol had been sitting earlier to find that only his legs were visible now, sticking out from behind the sofa. You rolled your eyes.

"If hating on ableists is all it takes to earn your trust, then I wasted a lot of effort." Rebekah frowned.

You shrugged. "I fail to see how that's a personality flaw."

"Oh, it's not." She gestured to her brother. "You're just making it way too easy on this idiot."

“Well, in Y/N’s defense -” Kol spoke, picking himself up off the floor. “- I am a lot more fun.”

"You wish," The two of you said in tandem. The boy just shrugged, chuckling to himself and Rebekah pressed play on the movie.

Kol ended up staying for all of it, much to your chagrin. When the film ended, you cast a glance at the clock only to realize that it was past eleven. 

"Holy crap!" You exclaimed. "I gotta-"

The blonde cut you off. "You're not going home this late, love."

"But I-"

"I rather prefer my best friends un-eaten." She sent you a hard look and even though you agreed with her, you knew there would be no changing that girl's mind.

You shrugged. "Yeah, okay. But I'm not sleeping in your room."

Rebekah tossed her head back, laughing at the memory. "What? Did you not have fun last time?" She teased, nudging your shoulder. 

"No. No, I did not."

Kol raised a brow, intrigued. "What happened last time?"

You shuddered, gagging obnoxiously and his sister just laughed harder, nearly slipping off the couch. "Marcel! He-He snuck into my room in the middle of the night an-and then-" You tossed a blanket over her head to stop her from finishing the story but she was laughing too hard to do so anyway.

"We're not reliving that!" You declared as Rebekah struggled to find her way out of the blanket.

"Oh, but your face!"

"Nooooo!" Grabbing a throw pillow off the couch, you tossed it at her head and she finally fell off the seat, shaking with giggles.

"Well now, if you're not staying with Bex, you can always join me." Kol smirked, meeting your eyes. His were darker somehow than they'd been before - obsidian instead of chocolate - and filled with a thinly veiled hunger that told you some part of him was serious. 

Your insides twisted but you couldn’t tell if you were flattered or terrified. Those eyes were intense, smoldering. Were you supposed to run or step closer? Settling yourself, you pressed your lips into a line, crossing your arms over your chest uncomfortably. That was it, you decided. He just made you uncomfortable. That was what you felt.

Nothing else.

 "I think one of the guest rooms will be just fine, but thanks anyway," You said. 

“Are you sure?” The dark-haired boy leaned forward. His hair must have been so soft but why were you thinking about that? “At the very least, I can promise to keep you warm, darling."

The way that pet name rolled so easily off his tongue prompted a rush of color to your cheeks. He made it sound endearing but you couldn't determine if he meant it or not. That was the problem with this flirtatious guide of his - somehow it was both sweet and menacing. Should you be afraid or should you go along?

Rebekah’s laughter ceased and a frigid tension began to build in the atmosphere between the siblings.

“Nah,” You waved a hand, shifting nervously as your cheeks reddened and your bones shuddered. What were you supposed to do with this? “I-I have, uh, restless leg syndrome. I’d kick you.”

That smile that split his lips next was a sharp, ravenous thing. Kol licked his lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind a few bruises, sweet thing.”

You swallowed thickly, crushing your folded arms against your stomach as if you might squash the butterflies if you pressed hard enough. Everything - your whole body - felt cold and hot and itchy. You felt the urge to squirm but you didn’t feel a need to leave. You didn’t know what this was. You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do! 

Thankfully, Bekah was there to save the day. Your friend stood off the floor and pulled you up by the arm. "Alright, that's enough socializing for tonight, I think."

"Aww, sister," Kol pouted. "Taking her away from me so soon? We've barely gotten acquainted."

"Then I stand corrected," The girl sniped. "That's more than enough socializing." She turned on her heel and walked quickly towards the door, tugging you along. Were you grateful or reluctant?  

For whatever reason, most likely one you couldn't explain, you glanced back as you followed her, meeting Kol's eyes for a moment. He smiled for you. "Goodnight, Angel." He signed. Those movements seemed soft - the words, sweet to your eyes. The boy waved and you turned away as quickly as you felt yourself blushing.

This was not a wise inclination on your part. 

When you arrived at the door of one of the guest rooms, the one closest to Rebekah’s, you stopped and turned to your friend, twisting a nervous hand around and around your wrist. She regarded you questioningly, raising a brow. The last thing you wanted to do was offend her, but… you had to make sure. You were just housekeeping - that was it. You were just some dirt-poor kid from the warehouse district, dreaming of the day you’d have enough money to go to college. You didn’t matter. No one would care if you were simply gone tomorrow. Perhaps Rebekah would - perhaps your friend would shed a tear or two - but she’d get over it.

She took your hands, stilling their frantic rubbing, and looked you in the eyes. Rebekah may not always be the most considerate person in the world but she cared so, so deeply. You could read that in her soft blue eyes. 

“What is it, Y/N?” She asked quietly.

“Bex…y-your brother,” You started carefully, pausing to gauge her reaction. She didn’t draw back or glare. No, she just held your eyes. You took a deep breath. “He's not gonna… do anything… right?”

The blonde girl smiled softly and shook her head. You were actually taller than her by a solid two or three inches so she had to reach up a bit to hug you, but it was actually more comforting that way because you could just throw your weight on her shoulders, knowing she’d hold you up like the tempest battered rock she was. “He wouldn’t dare,” She promised, whispering in your ear. “Despite his reputation, there are lines Kol will not cross. My brother may be a blunt, impulsive ass, but - underneath that flirtatious mask - there’s an entirely different blunt impulsive ass who happens to be something of a gentleman.” You snickered and pulled away, smiling gratefully. 

“Thanks, blondie. I-I guess I just-”

“You don’t have to explain, dear. I get it.” Rebekah let her arms fall and took hold of your hand again, squeezing. “You’re safe here. I promise.” Then she let go.

“That's good to know,” You said, reaching for the door handle.

“Besides,” Your friend added, her tone significantly cheekier. “If Kol so much as laid a finger on my best friend, I’d string him up by his-”

“OKAY, Bex. I got the picture!” You exclaimed, holding your hands out to cut her off. She just grinned and flounced down the hall to her room because the bedrooms in that place were big enough to be hotel suits. “Say hi to Marcel for me when he inevitably drops by.” (Though you would never admit it, you thought those two were cute together. They were so in love it almost made you sick.)

The blonde rolled her eyes, blushing just a tad. “Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Y/N.” She moved to escape your teasing but you stopped her again. 

“Wait, actually, don’t. Do not, under any circumstances mention my name while you two are… studying anatomy.”

Your friend blushed fiercely. “Goodnight!” She squeaked forcefully, before rushing into her room and closing the door behind her. You snorted, pleased with yourself, and entered your own room, quickly readying for bed. You drifted off sometime later, thinking about black holes and the relativity of time. 

Around three A.M, you woke again. See, you had this habit of doing that. You often found yourself lost in thought while you worked and ended up skipping meals during the day. Thus, after dark - specifically around three in the morning - you would get so hungry that your body woke itself up. Midnight snacks were technically awful for you, but you figured you could worry about that when you were forty or something.

So you got up, dawned just one of your hearing aids because you were lazy and tired, you and slipped on one of Rebekah’s bathrobes, though you didn’t bother tying it, you were too groggy for that. It wasn’t like you slept naked or anything - this was the middle of January; therefore you wore a t-shirt and sleep shorts because this was also Louisiana. Slipping out of your room, you made your way through the maze of halls and servant’s passages that wound through the compound like a human’s circulatory system, determined to make it to the kitchen. It wasn’t as though you could get lost. No, you knew that house like the back of your hand - probably better.

You padded down a staircase barefoot, and though it was unlikely any of the tenets were up, you tried your best to remain as silent as possible. Such a tactic turned out to be mostly useless as, in passing by Klaus’ studio where he was still painting, he noticed you and waved. Did that man even have a sleep schedule? You stilled, wondering whether you should wave back. Knowing him, the hybrid would probably demand to know why it was that you were up and about so late.

He called out to you, just barely loud enough for you to hear but not quite loud enough for you to understand. 

“What was that?” You asked in a whisper as you appeared in the doorway. 

“Are you sleep walking again, love?” Klaus signed, smirking amusedly. You blushed fiercely - yeah, that had happened once or twice at your frequent sleepovers. 

“Nope,” You whispered back. “Just… prematurely ruining my metabolism.” 

He huffed a small laugh. “In that case, carry on.” His movements were dramatic and the teasing only made you blush all the more.

“Yep. Thanks.” You rushed away before he could say anything else. 

When you arrived at your destination, the room was shrouded in darkness though you didn’t bother flipping on the light. The light from the fridge would suffice. Opening it, you inspected your options. The Mikaelson’s kitchen was kept stock more as a convenience to them rather than out of any real need and Rebekah had firmly insisted that you help yourself to whatever you felt like, whenever you felt like it. Now, you’d never been one to turn down free food, so you readily took advantage of the offer. Their family had too much money anyway.

You decided that anything you couldn’t read the label of was Elijah’s, and you’d been told by the blonde herself that Rebekah writes her name on anything she intends to eat. Klaus, you were pretty sure, just lived entirely on pretzels, chicken tenders, hot sauce, and alcohol - which was mildly disturbing more than anything - and once again, you had no inkling as to Kol’s preferences. Thus, inspecting the contents of the fridge, you found an unmarked box of cheese quesadillas and figured they’d be safe to eat. You  pulled them out, humming to yourself.

"Well, this is awkward."

You nearly jumped out of your skin, dropping the box of quesadillas. The words were soft, barely registering in your hearing aid and you had no idea where it had come from. So startled were you by the voice from the darkness that the scream in your chest became lodged in your throat. You stood there frozen, searching frantically through the black veil of the night for the all too lovely boy whose clever tongue commanded that sweet melody. You couldn’t see him. Fear - wild and sharp - rose within your chest, crawling into your heart, and diffusing in your blood as your pulse thrummed faster. You tried to remember what Rebekah had said about you being safe, except you didn’t because your thoughts were entirely paralyzed. In the darkness and the cold, slightly drafty kitchen of that house, you thought you could feel the horrifying sensation of a vampire breathing down your neck. With a burst of movement you hadn’t even thought about, you raced to flip on the lights.

You blinked, shaking with fright as you scanned the room. Confused, you glanced all around, even behind you. Yet, Kol was nowhere to be found. 

Were you going mad?

Then you gasped as, seemingly by its own volition, the refrigerator door swung shut. There, atop the counter previously hidden by it, sat Kol. The two of you stared at each other for a moment and you were surprised to realize that there wasn’t an inkling of malicious intent visible in his expression. If anything he just looked amused and a little… embarrassed?

You quickly noticed why.

The had in his lap a tub of ice cream and a carton of Oreos. But he wasn’t eating them separately. Judging off of the indents in the ice cream and the cookie in his hand which had a glob of the desert slathered over it and dripping between his fingers, you figured he must have been using the Oreos to like a spoon with which to eat the ice cream. It was ingenious if not oddly horrifying.

You opened your mouth to demand answers but you weren’t sure what you would ask. A jumble of nonsensical syllables escaped your mouth instead. "Wha- How are you- I mean that’s just… WHAT???"

Kol glanced down at the deserts in his lap and then back up at you. 

"I have a problem,” He said flatly.

You blinked and nodded. "A few, yeah."

Another few seconds passed between you, spent with mutual wide eyed stares. Your brain was still fogged with sleep and running far too slowly to comprehend everything you were feeling at the moment. As for Kol, he just shoved the cookie in his mouth and downed it as fast as he could before you got too judgy. 

“I am so confused,” You muttered, watching him lick ice cream from his fingers. He looked you dead in the eye the whole time. You swallowed thickly. Why did that make you blush?

“Understandable.” The boy put the lid back on the ice cream container. "How about you and I just… forget you ever saw this?" He suggested.

"I wish I could."

He frowned, lifting an eyebrow. “You’re not entirely innocent here either, darling.”

“What?”

He gestured to the box quesadillas at his feet. You glanced down.

“There’s an explanation for that,” You claimed. The desire to curl  up in a hole to hide was strong, but you resisted. Kol gestured for you to continue. "Well, you see I'm a terrible human being and I've resigned to that fact."

The boy’s defensive expression broke into a grin and he laughed, a sweet melody on your ears. “You don’t seem so bad to me,” He said. 

“No offense or anything, but I don’t think you’re an accurate judge of personal morality or ethics.” You yawned, rubbing some of the sleep from your eyes. 

“You have a point there.” Kol smirked and hopped off the counter, taking a small step closer. His eyes flicked over your figure. “Oh, now you’re just showing off.”

“Excuse me?”

That amused smirk morphed into a cheeky grin and he shrugged, dragging a hand through his hair. “Well, you can’t just walk around with a figure as tempting as yours and expect me not to notice,” Kol mused.

Glancing down, you realized that your pajama shorts didn’t exactly cover as much as you would have liked. Their minimal length gave the dark-haired boy an unobstructed view of your legs and left rather little to the imagination. He may have been a vampire, but he was still a boy. Your cheeks grew hot and you knew he’d be able to see under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen. Although, oddly enough, you found that you weren’t exactly mad at him for noticing… or for looking at you that way at all. Did you want him to? Did you like having his attention?

“Oh, um…” You didn’t know what to say to that. “Thank you, I guess?”

“Thank you for being so beautiful.”

You frowned, forcing a laugh. “I’m like… the definition of average, but okay.”

“What makes you say that?” He wondered. Those eyes - amber now, not obsidian or chocolate, but amber and warm - narrowed with something that looked like concern. The boy drew two steps closer. Should you stay or run? “You’re gorgeous, darling. Don’t tell yourself otherwise.” 

The way he said it was different this time. His words didn’t have the same razor sharp edge to them and his eyes held none of that darkness and hunger that had been there before. Now the words just seemed honest. It was almost as if he were someone else - he was still Kol just… softer now that no one else was around. He seemed warm and you felt a sudden urge to curl up against him and go back to sleep.

Blushing, you shook your head and looked at the ground. It wasn’t that you thought he was lying, you just didn’t believe him.

He moved closer to you again, slowly. Almost as if he were testing how close you would allow him. The boy was only half an arm's length away now, close enough to touch. Close enough to taste you if he wanted, but would he?

Kol reached out and rested a hand on your shoulder with a feather touch. You stiffened but you didn’t tell him no. You didn’t run away. 

“You know, I was actually hoping I’d have the fortune of finding myself a moment alone with you,” He quietly admitted. His hand slid down your arm, smoothing over your skin.

Your eyes snapped up, widening. You shouldn’t trust this boy. You should run. 

“Why?” Your voice shook but at least it was there. You could tell him no if you needed to and Rebekah had said - she had promised that Kol would respect you.

A flash of realization flickered over his expression and he drew his hand back. “I’m sorry, darling. That was inconsiderate, wasn’t it? Sometimes with the way you act its…” He smiled but it wasn’t cheeky or sarcastic. It was a little sad. “Its just hard to remember that you’re terrified.”

“I-I’m not scared of you…” The words were lies and there was no way he wouldn’t see it. Kol raised a brow and took another step closer. You instinctively countered the movement to put some space between you, contradicting yourself instantly. That sad smile made another appearance. You cursed yourself for being so inherently cowardly. You’d worked for these people for eight months and not one of them had made so much as a motion to harm you. They fed off of the other housekeepers, but they’d never touched you. For Klaus or Elijah it probably had something to do with their fear of Rebekah’s wrath but…

With the way Kol was looking at you, maybe he had a different reason. 

“It’s okay that you’re scared,” The boy said, shrugging a little. “That’s only natural. Fear is wisdom in the face of danger, so really it just means that you’re smart.” Had he said that a little differently, it would have sounded like a threat but the timbre was that of a compliment.

“Not smart enough, apparently,” You breathed.  

Kol tilted his head, frowning. "Not smart enough for what?"

"Well I just can't seem to figure out what you really want from me." You crossed your arms and pressed them tightly against your body. Perhaps you were trying to hold yourself together. Kol's mere presence had you torn between emotions.

He seemed surprised by your answer as though he'd expected you to skirt around such a direct confrontation. He blinked and you thought you imagined just the slightest twinge of pink in his cheeks as rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, mulling over his response. 

"I want to know you," He decided. "I want to learn all that you are and I want you to know me. I want to rid you of this fear - purge it from you slowly, pluck it from your bones piece by piece until the day comes when you'll let me hold you." 

"You…" Your voice trailed off as you struggled to grip such a concept. "You don't want my blood?" 

The boy smiled thinly but you watched a tragic bitterness flicker over her face. "I wish I could lie and say I didn't, but truthfully it was the first thing that drew me to you. " He shook his head, ashamed. Then those amber eyes flicked upward, meeting yours meaningfully. “But I’ve decided not to take it.” 

And that wording was important, you knew, because it went against his his usual pattern. Kol was impulsive, he let the moment guide his actions. It was rare for that boy to make an active decision in advance. The statement was a silent request for trust. 

“Why?” You asked, brows pulling together. Kol just didn’t seem like the selfless type to you. 

He shrugged. “Well, I don’t much like people. Never have - ignorance annoys me - but you’re different. You, my darling, are a puzzle.” The boy grinned. You’d never taken him for a scholar, but there was something excited about that expression - the glimmer in his eyes, perhaps - they displayed a passion for discovery, a craving for knowledge. He leaned closer almost conspiratorially. “I like puzzles. Especially the pretty ones.”

So he really did want to know you. Well, you weren’t ready for that.

“Kol, thank you for the complement, I really appreciate it but I have a feeling I know where this is going and I think I should stop you here.” You sighed and paused for a moment, carefully formulating the proper words to reflect your feelings. The whole while, his eyes remained on your face so you kept your own on the floor and tugged at the hem of your shirt distractedly.  “I’m not… good at relationships. You said you don’t like people, and well neither do I. I don’t like them, I don’t like their expectations, their judgments, their hidden agendas - I don’t like any of it. I don’t understand any of it and I don’t have the patience to figure it out. I just… how do I say this?”

“You see too much,” Kol interrupted. You snapped your head up, regarding him questioningly. He continued. “You see everything around you so much differently than others. You see into things - you study them and you understand where others don’t and that bothers you. It annoys you, because why can’t they just look? Why can’t everyone just think?”

That was it. He’d said it. He’d said exactly what you were feeling - what you had always felt - and he said it with honest eyes and just a taste of that constant frustration you’d become so used to.

“They don’t think,” You muttered bitterly. He nodded.

“So, I’m right then?” He said quietly. “It’s not that you don’t understand people - no, it’s quite the opposite, isn’t it? You understand them perfectly - too perfectly. You see through lies and false hoods as though they were merely glass, thus you can’t comprehend why anyone would bother with them. You’re honest and you desperately wish everyone else would be as well, because where is the point in lying? The liars and the cheaters and the unfairness of this world frustrate you, because you were born in the dust and you would steal their thrones in the blink of an eye if only you were provided the opportunity.”

That. That was too close. He shouldn’t know that. No one knew those things about you. His words were far too similar to your own thoughts - the ones you kept to yourself, buried under that customer-service smile you’d learned so early in your youth. Those thoughts weren’t something you shared. Period. With anyone. You were just a housekeeper, a personal maid and that was all any person would ever get to see of you. No one was supposed to see that you had been thinking about astrophysics since you were in the fourth grade or that you had aced every math test you had ever taken. 

Because if the world saw that then it would try so much harder to push you down. You had been born in the dust, just as Kol had said, and no one wants to see the gutter reach for the stars. You were the sort of person who could change the world, but those in power didn’t want to see the world change.

“How do you know any of that?” You demanded, eyes narrowing as your tone changed from a snowfall to steel.

“Because I’ve felt it all my life,” The boy replied. “It’s the prodigy mentality, I’m afraid.”

You tilted your head to the side, considering him. “I thought you said you didn’t understand me.”

Kol smirked. “Oh no, that’s the part of you I picked up on immediately. You and I are a lot alike. It’s why you’re so close with Bekah. She’s everything you wish you had without any of the things you hate. She’s my favorite too.”

“Seems like you’ve got everything figured out, then,” You said. Something in you was disappointed though you weren’t sure why.

“Not everything.” His eyes sparkled with bemusement. He loved this. “I’m still trying to figure out how it is that you’re not bitter. You’re awfully cheerful for one so full of resentment.”

Smiling faintly, you cast your gaze down to your feet. “People aren’t very kind… I like to go against the grain.”

Kol leaned back on his heels and nodded. “Genuine kindness derived from spite,” He mused, rubbing his thumb over his lower lip. “Can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before.” The boy chuckled and his eyes flicked over you again, reassessing. “I like it.”

He was like you. Both similar and opposite, the two of you were contrasting sides of the same coin - a mirror of one another. Kol Mikaelson thought you were special.

Your cheeks burned under his attention.

“Uncle Kol?” A voice from the kitchen doorway asked. Both you and Kol turned toward the sound. The adorable red-haired girl standing before you was Klaus’ daughter, Hope. She was eight years old and probably the sweetest soul you’d ever met - which was baffling considering who her father was. The girl glanced between the two of you, rubbing at bleary eyes. “Hi, Miss. Y/N/N.”

“Hey there, strawberry shortcake.” You offered her a smile and a wave which she returned. Kol crossed his arms.

“What are you doing up, little witch?” He prompted in what was probably his best responsible-adult voice, though it wasn’t very convincing. She padded over to him and held out her arms for him to pick her up. Kol obliged, pitching Hope on his hip. 

“I was thirsty,” She replied, resting her head on his shoulder. She was clearly still mostly out of it. 

Her uncle chuckled softly and kissed her hair. “Do you want some water?” Hope hummed and nodded. “What do you say?”

“Please?” She mumbled. 

“Excellent.” He carried her over to the cabinet for a cup. “You know, one of the most powerful spells you’ll ever learn is the magic word, love.”

“He’s right, you know,” You agreed. It’s never a bad thing to support good parenting.

“Mmm… Freya says the most powerful magic is-is, uh… neco-pantsy,” Hope argued, struggling to pronounce the word. 

Kol frowned. “Necromancy?”

“Uh, huh.”

He tossed you an alarmed glance and you just shrugged. 

“Well I’m going to have to talk to Aunt Freya about what she’s teaching you.”

“Why?” The little girl asked. 

“Because you, my sweet, are just a little too young to be talking about black magic.” He tapped her nose, causing her to giggle. “Besides, Necromancy can usually only help you recover something you already had. Now, the magic word, if used appropriately, can get you almost anything you want.” Kol filled the glass of water in the sink and passed it to Hope.

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. For example-” He turned to you and grinned. “-Y/N, I find you captivating above all other women I’ve met in my long, long life. Your intelligence is as impressive as your beauty and l would be ever so grateful to bask in your presence for an evening. Would you please allow me to take you to dinner sometime?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, sure. Why not?”

He shot you a wink and turned back to Hope. “See?”

Hope, however, was one smart little cookie. Her eyes flicked between the two of you and her eyebrows drew together. You could practically see the lightbulb blink on above her head and the change of her expression looked suspiciously like an oven going ding! 

“Are you in love with Miss Y/N?” She demanded. Kol blinked and glanced toward you. Your face flushed. 

“Well, I don’t know about that quite yet,” He laughed. “Though, I must say I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Hope grinned. “You love her! You love her! You really, really love her!” She sang, giggling. Though your cheeks were surely redder than tomatoes, you couldn’t contain your own laughter.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough out of you, little witch,” Kol said, feigning annoyance, though he too was smiling. He put the girl down and took her now empty glass from her little hands. “Off to bed now.”

The little red-head smiled mischievously, rocking back and forth on her heels. “I wonder what Auntie Bex is going to say about you having a crush on her best friend?” She mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. This girl was good. Eight years old and already mastering the intricate art of blackmail. 

Kol’s brows shot up and he huffed. His eyes flicked to you. “Did you hear that?” 

“Oh, yeah.” You smirked. “Kid’s got you cornered.”

“I’m not sure if I’m proud or terrified,” The boy muttered. He braced his arms on his knees and leaned down to her height. “Let’s just you and I be clear, little witch. Your Auntie Bex isn’t going to find out what you just witnessed, because you aren’t going to tell her anything. Savvy?”

Hope met his eyes and smirked. “Hmmmm…” Then she glanced down to inspect her fingernails. You wondered where she’d learned that from. “I think you’re going to have to convince me,” She said. 

Kol straightened, taken aback by the absolute power move coming from an eight-year-old. “You’re a little weasel, you know that?” 

“I know!” She chirped.

He bit his lip. “What do you want?” 

“Whaddya got?”

He scratched the back of his head as if debating which would be worse, the wrath of his sister or the wrath of Hope’s parents. Actually, the more you thought about it, the more you thought Klaus would probably just encourage this sort of behavior. Kol shook a finger at his niece but moved over to where he’d left his half eaten carton of ice-cream. 

“You keep your cute little mouth shut and this is yours,” He said. Hope tried to quirk an eyebrow but failed, bursting into giggles when Kol did it successfully. 

“Okay!” She cheered. The girl raised her arms again and he lifted her onto the counter. 

“You’re lucky you’re my favorite niece,” He grumbled. Grabbing the container of ice cream, he popped it open and removed a proper spoon from the drawer before passing both items to her. 

Hope rolled her eyes. “Uncle Kol! I’m your only niece!”

Kol winked and bopped her nose again. “Precisely.” Then he rounded on you, amber eyes sparkling and sweet. “So, what do you say, darling? How does tomorrow night sound?”

You just smiled. Maybe this boy wasn’t so bad. “That sounds great.”

"It's a date." The genuine delight on his face made you blush. He turned back to Hope. “And you’re not invited, you naughty, naughty girl.”

Tagging: @yn-ymn-ylnyln@r13mar@rootbeerfaygo@iiskittles16ii@fandomrulesall-blog@dark-night-sky-99@railingsofsorrow@apolloroid@thatweirdoleigh@misswe03@eat-cake@felinegrate@trikigirl271@cute-freak27@fayeatheart@archangelslollipop@slaypussypop-21@aonungs-tsahik

As always if you want to be added or removed from my tag list, just ask me in the comments or send me a DM. I love you all and I'm so grateful for your support. Stay wild!

[duha54]

You got Akaashi keiji !

Match up for @isadollie !

Your perfect match is Akaashi Keiji !

Like you he wouldn't want anything extra for a date . Yours usual hangout spot are his house , a nearby cat café ( it suits his vibe soo much ) and the park nearby .

For your first date, he'll bring you to a bookshop . He chose it for three reasons : for noting your taste so he could surprise you later on ,getting to know you better for confirming if both of you would be a great match and the final one is just for seeing your pretty happy and exited face .

Don't you ever worry about the bill it's on him

It'll take him a lot of time to fall in love and to confesses . He was just so hesitant.What if you rejected him ? What if you just want to stay friend ? Or worst ,what if it ruins your friendship ?

Bokuto had to butts in for him to stop.Btw, he's his n°1 supporter .He just want his bestie to be happy ...

Will take things slowly with you .It's his first relationship so he still have to get used to it .

Will a 100% use romance novels and books with general advice ( thinks it is more reliable than using internet)

He doesn't mind you being hyperactive. ( he dealt with bokuto afterall )

In fact it is endearing to him

He'll quickly notice if you're feeling down .But before having a little talk with those who did this to you he'll make sure that you feel safe , loved and go back to your normal bubbly state .

Even though he've been through this kind of situation plenty of times ,with you he'll process differently .He'll be more attentive ,sweeter ,whispering everything he loves about you .Holding you gently in his warm embrace while placing from time to time kisses on a your forehead.

After you calmed down a bit he'll bring you to a cat café .

Low-key jealous about how much attention you give to the cats .

Will introduce you to Bokuto .Of course .

You both got along super quickly which made him happy

Had teased you quite a bit about how much you two are similarYour's (mood swings )

Called you the twins .

He's definitely the type to wait at least a couple of month before talking about the future he planned with you.

Bro already planned your entire wedding .

Beamed when you said you were okay with it .

Your personality balance his in a healthy way

He loves how you can cheer him up when needed, and how you're by his side when he feels down .

Sometimes after a long rough day at work he wants just one thing being next to you ,feeling your warmth and venting about all of his worries so he could finally take this weight off of his shoulders .

Not only he likes all the cat posts you send him but he'll send you some back .It's mostly very cute ones .One time he send you a video of two twin kitties acting the exact same way at the exact same time and tagged Blaire and bokuto.

He'll try to avoid crowded places as much as possible though if you have to get to one in order to arrive at a your next date , he'll hold your hands so he won't lose you .

If you go shopping or just get groceries ,as the gentleman that he is he would insist on carrying your bags for you .

Buy you a bouquet of flowers quite often . Before he'll be on his way to your home ,he'll keep one of the flowers for him so that he'll know when to buy you a new one .

Makes sure to bring you each time one of a different color to prevent this habit from becoming monotonous .

I strongly believe that he's amazing at any domestic cores, including cooking .

Before dating you he just knew a few recipes just for health purpose .But then you came along, and he found himself wanting to spoil you ...And this is how he became your personal cook .

He won't tell you directly however one of his favorite moment with you is in the kitchen .It feels just so natural ,staying in comfortable silence only broken by the sound of the kitchen utensils that you're both using . And he can't help himself but to imagine if it would be this way when you'll be married ...

He silently prays for these moments to never ends .

[serfergs]

A brief defense of a Boss & a Babe

So I’ve never added commentary like this before (usually prefer to sit back and enjoy the hot takes 🔥 & analyses from those much more informed & eloquent), but from what I’ve seen the consensus is ABAB is at the least disappointing and at the most infuriating. And I won’t lie I didn’t vibe with the first episode. But I’ve now watched the second and I’ve got thoughts (and feelings). To preface I had very little expectations going in. This is my first ForceBook experience & I didn’t really care for the premise or trailer, but thought I’d give it a try. And it’s not only more entertaining than I expected, but also kinda…deep? In this essay i wil-

Just kidding I’m def going to bullet point this ish. Plz forgive my awful formatting idk what I’m doing

Boss is relatable. I read him as introverted and depressed (maybe from a break up and/or homophobic trauma?). It’s already hard to make friends as an adult when you’re introverted so I can only imagine how hard it is to make friends with coworkers who are clearly trying to keep their distance from you. My guy is lonely. Especially when they’re telling the new guy how cold & distant you are. My head cannon is nobody in the office is a reliable narrator because no one has bothered to GET TO KNOW boss/gun.

I didn’t like Cher at first because I read him as a silly kinda ditzy character, but I was wrong. I kinda love that he’s not afraid to show his concern for boss because that’s exactly what boss needs. Someone to cross the professional line and say “hey I know you’re not ok and I wanna be there for you”. Fuck professionalism in this rat race of a world, you need a friend. Maybe there are some problematic ethics at play, but it’s a BL ok there are plenty of other plots I hold a suspension of disbelief for so honestly not too far fetched imo

Even though they kissed in episode 2, I feel like the emotional build up of their relationship will be more of a slow burn and I love how realistic that is. I truly believe these two characters are both physically attracted to each other and want to have an emotional connection. I love the ForceBook chemistry. It’s both fun-flirty but also very affectionate. The way Cher is kind of sarcastic and silly to try & cheer up Boss reminds me of my relationship with my partner so maybe I am a little biased but their connection feels very realistic to me

About the kiss. I loved it. It was flirty, it was intimate and it made sense for the moment. Maybe I’m wrong but I don’t think Cher invited Boss up to his room to seduce him. I think he offered a warm, welcoming place to spend time after Boss told him he usually works late and then goes home alone. Cher knows how lonely Boss is and his genuine concern for him is so sweet. From inviting him up for noodles to inviting him to BBQ to meet his friends (and normalize having queer friends) is just so damn considerate & touching. Cher really seems to have the truest of intentions & I think I would be his real life bestie cheering him & boss on the sidelines, seriously. Maybe I’m problematic lmao

Did I mention I love we got a kiss in episode 2? I’m out here manifesting the break in the typical episode 5/6 kiss especially for these office BLs. Again it’s way more realistic for them to kiss each other at this point in their relationship & for the tone of the show. Sometimes I think a good timed kiss is way more impactful than a dramatic emotional yearning kiss 5 episodes in but maybe that’s just me. More playful, sweet early kisses plz & thank you 🙏🏻

I’m excited for more. Haven’t seen episode 3 yet as of this writing. Fingers crossed their relationship continues to be a sweet, supportive slow burn and not a dumpster fire so I don’t regret writing my first ever BL analysis 🤪

[idkjustletmescroll]

Why do we love the red lotus so much?

It’s no secret that among the avatar/lok fandom that the red lotus in season 3 are some of the legend of korra’s most beloved villains. I started to wonder why that is, and I’m writing down all my thoughts because of course I am.

1: Cool character designs

Visually, the red lotus are super-interesting, especially when you put them altogether. Zaheer’s all-gray monochrome look and his little change from long hair and beard to baldness, and his eyebrow scar. Ghazan and his tattoos and that mustache he grew when he was ten. Ming-Hua is small but mighty, waterbends without arms and uses said waterbending AS ARMS, another shining example of the avatar franchise’s portrayal of disability. And P’li being a seven-feet-tall combustionbender with a cool braid. They look cool. What more do you need?

2: They’re human

Probably part of what makes the red lotus so popular is that they feel pretty human. Obviously Zaheer is the leader of the group, and I’d personally have loved some more moments reminiscent of the “seriously? right now?” scene, but they’re clearly all besties. Ghazan, as mentioned above, complaining about P’li and Zaheer making out in the truck; P’li getting a piggyback ride from Ming-Hua on her way out of prison and calling her a show-off; Ming-Hua calling the boys ugly mugs; Ghazan commenting, upon seeing Zaheer fly for the first time, that “i guess [Zaheer] doesn’t need a ride”; etc. They have distinct personalities from each other, with Zaheer being the planner and leader, P’li being quiet and menacing (unless she’s with her friends and her man), Ghazan being the chill, laid-back one, and Ming-Hua being snarky and hot-tempered. P’li and Zaheer obviously have their romance, which is sweet even if fans (*cough* me *cough*) would’ve loved to see more of it. They work incredibly well together as a team and in battle. Ghazan worries about P’li when she’s injured at Zaofu, P’li gets mad at Zaheer when he gets discovered on Air Temple Island and alerts the city to their presence, Ming-Hua and Ghazan are visibly surprised, sad, and confused all at once when Zaheer achieves flight and they learn that P’li is dead, Ming-Hua has the odd habit of sitting in trees and the backs of chairs instead of the actual chair...there are plenty of little moments that drive home the fact that they’re people who care deeply about each other.

3: They’re badass af

I mean, seriously. Zaheer was arguably more feared than the other three even as a non-bender, and is beaten with airbending only by his overconfidence and airbending inexperience against strong bending masters. P’li is a combustion bender who can a) talk, and b) curve her combustion beams. Ghazan is the franchise’s first canon lavabender, and Ming-Hua is its first bender who’s missing limbs. She supposedly uses her torso and legs to waterbend, despite the popular fan theory that she also uses at least some psychic bending. They have unique abilities that expand the possibilities of bending, make for unique and interesting fight scenes, and give our heroes a genuine challenge. Neither side is ridiculously powered-down; Bolin and Mako put up a good fight against Ming-Hua and Ghazan, for example, given their two seasons of battle experience and previous pro-bending careers, but still get their asses kicked and are captured, because they’ve never fought these kinds of benders before! How the hell do you stop a lady who can basically waterbend with her mind? How can Bolin stop Ghazan when all of Bolin’s ammunition is thrown right back at him in an even deadlier form? 

4: No canon backstories

Hear me out here: I do agree that we could’ve gotten more hints of their backstories and how they all met, etc., but they don’t have a canon backstory like Amon, giving them that air of mystery. I love speculating on their pasts, which I couldn’t do if they had them in canon. But idk, I feel like this just depends on what you like in your villains.

In short, a large reason the red lotus is beloved is because they’re so different from anything we’ve previously seen in the franchise. They’re fresh, new faces who give us what is widely considered Legend of Korra’s best season.

[hermannsthumb]

Adoring Newt and oblivious Hermann is my life blood (is that a phrase?) So a fic of that nature would be very welcome.

Also, your writing is wonderful.

little ficlet!!!! i've been a little stressed irl recently but it's nice to write something fun between longer stuff im working on (and thank you for the compliment!)

----------------------------------

Newt definitely isn't stalking Hermann or anything like that, because that would be weird and creepy, but Hermann's expert-level aloofness and general disinterest in being around Newt in basically any capacity means that Newt has to resort to some very weird levels just to have a normal non-work-related conversation with the guy. He doesn't hold any illusions of the two of them becoming besties or anything like that, but for two people who spend as much time as they do together—which is to say, probably 80% of their waking moments—it kind of sucks they can’t reach some form of companionable ground. Or that they don’t spend the other 20% of that time doing fun stuff. Not that there’s much fun stuff to do around the Shatterdome (or even really the city, since the risk of being squashed by a kaiju is kinda too high to enjoy yourself for any extended length), but they could still put in some effort. Like doing movie nights. They played cards one night after splitting a single Cup Noodles for dinner, but it was a little too hostile to be relaxing. Hermann plays Go Fish like he's out for blood.

Newt’s been putting in plenty of effort to develop their acquaintance-rivalry into more firmly the acquaintance side of things. At the very least shift things into friendly rivals territory. He, like, says good morning to Hermann, and sometimes remembers to do the dishes in the lab sink. Last week he even asked Hermann how his day was going. Hermann ignored him, but it's the thought that counts.

Newt is putting in plenty of effort specifically at this moment, probably more effort than Hermann has even dreamed of. He hopes Hermann sees it like that—oh, look, Newt put in so much effort just to hang out with me before work, how sweet, and then Newt would be like yeah, dude, it’s because I care about getting to know you, and then Hermann would be like this isn’t creepy or stalkerish at all. (When Newt wants a conversation to go well with Hermann, he usually practices in his head first. Winging it can have disastrous consequences. Hermann balks at the first sign of small talk, generally assuming Newt is just trying to ease him into horrific news about some major biohazard event or another Newt’s caused in the lab, which, to be fair, does have some historical basis.) Newt's just a careful observer. Hermann's schedule is like clockwork, just like his own, and it's not that hard to pick up on that. It's not hard to pick up on little things he likes, too, specifically his tea order. And obviously Newt knows where Hermann’s quarters are, though maybe he did have to resort to slightly stalkery methods of following him home after work one night for that.

In a grand effort to get his stuffy lab partner to look at him with anything other than disdain, Newt woke up before dawn today and hauled it downtown to pick up a fancy tea latte (months of careful observation told him that Hermann is a fan of anything prepared with steamed milk and very little sugar) and a cinnamon roll (Hermann looked slightly less grumpy than usual when they served them for dessert in the mess hall two months ago) to surprise him with before work. Unfortunately, waking up before dawn is having disastrous consequences that Newt forgot to take into account when he planned this—that is to say, he’s very sleepy, and Hermann doesn’t show any sign of leaving his room any time soon. Newt didn’t account for the guy’s apparent need for, like, a million hours of beauty sleep.

The hallway outside Hermann's door isn’t exactly comfortable either. Newt shortly graduates from standing at attention to slumping on the ground, leather jacket collar popped up against the blasting A/C as he fights off yawns. He’s fully dozing against the wall (cardboard coffee cup cooling fast in his hand) when Hermann’s door finally swings open. It’s not exactly the nice surprise Newt wanted it to be: instead of looking hot and suave and thoughtful, he startles awake with a small yelp and drops the tea, spilling at least a quarter of it on his jeans before he can fumble it upright, while (looming above him in his doorway) Hermann doesn’t even have the decency to look surprised. “Oh,” he says, looking at Newt over his glasses like Newt’s a weird bug writhing around in the dirt. “It’s you. I thought I heard someone snoring.”

“Good morning,” Newt yawns out. He scrambles to his feet, the brown pastry bag crinkling in his sweaty palm, and smooths his hair back as best as he can. His impromptu nap against the wall messed up the gel he uses for his very hot and sexy styling and he’s definitely rocking more of a bedhead look right now, especially compared to Hermann’s tragically offensive but immaculately combed bowlcut. Maybe Hermann will think it’s a cute look for him. He flattens the back of hair down again, but the gel-stiff strands stubbornly refuse to obey. Hopefully Hermann will think it’s a cute look. Newt wants Hermann to think he looks cute so, so bad, and it’s unfair that Hermann can get away with the reverse so effortlessly. “You, um, you slept in, huh?”

Hermann casts a pointed look at the dinged-up analog wristwatch peeking out from the sleeve of his tweed blazer. “It’s seven in the morning,” he says. “I wake up at precisely the same time every single day. You ought to try it. You didn’t sleep here all night, did you?” Newt has just a second to think about how sweet it is that Hermann cares about him getting proper rest when he makes a face at Newt and adds, “I don’t want anyone getting any wrong sorts of ideas about us.”

“No, no,” Newt says quickly. Seven in the morning? That’s news to him. Admittedly he was a little overeager about this all, which would explain the weird looks the baristas gave him down at the café—he must’ve gotten there, like, milliseconds after they opened. “I’ve been here for like, five minutes. I got you breakfast!”

He thrusts out the tea and cinnamon roll, startling Hermann backwards against his door with a small thump. Hermann eyes the offering skeptically. “You…what?” he says.

“Breakfast? I just thought we could, like, hang out a little before work,” Newt says. He gives the bag a pathetic little shake. “Maybe take a walk or something?” Hermann makes him feel like a dumb, nervous teenager without even trying, like a simple request to chill as bros is on the same level as asking him to prom or proposing or something. He’s just so—pointy and lanky. In a hot way. And he has pretty eyes and pretty eyelashes, and when he scowls and bitches at Newt, it makes Newt’s heart spin circles around itself, and maybe sometimes he deliberately picks fights just to get the guy’s laser-beam focus turned on him like a sniper rifle. He feels like a lost puppy around Hermann, desperate for the slightest bit of attention. You put in so much effort, Newton, how very charming of you!

“No thank you,” Hermann says.

He sets off in the direction of the lab. Newt blinks, his heart sinking, and then scurries after him. “C’mon, man, at least take the tea,” he says. “I spent, like, eight bucks on it.” He asked the baristas to make a little heart in the foam (alluding to the definitely real maybe-boyfriend he was buying the drink for), but he realizes that Hermann won’t actually be able to see it unless Newt very heavily hints he should definitely take the lid off for, um, some reason. Also, Newt probably fucked the heart up anyway when he spilled it all over his pants. He lifts the white plastic up a centimeter and confirms his suspicions: the little latte art heart has been transformed into what Newt would generously call a blob. He tipped 60% for that blob.

“I didn’t ask you to,” Hermann says. Then he frowns at Newt over his shoulder. “Actually, Newton—why did you?”

“I,” Newt squeaks, just a little, and then stammers out incoherently, “I was—I wanted a coffee, so—I was already there, downtown I mean, at the coffeeshop and I thought you might want something. From the coffeeshop. The pastries looked good too. I thought we could split one. You like—cinnamon rolls?” He struggles to click the plastic lid back on the cup with his thumb, sloshing more tea down his front. “Ugh.”

“You’re making a mess of yourself,” Hermann sighs, “as usual. Well, Newton, I do appreciate the thought, though I admit I’m not particularly hungry right now. I suppose I wouldn’t mind a tea. Thank you.” He sounds strained when he says it, but he gives Newt a tight smile and accepts the cup at last. His fingers brush against Newt’s; Newt inhales shakily, and Hermann’s elegant eyelashes give a little flutter. Go to prom with me, Hermann, Newt thinks.

“R-right,” he says.

[knight-engale]

The Best Present

1.1k words

Pairing: Morgan x Rowan

@wiltingdecay Happy birthday, bestie!!! Hope you have a wonderful day! 💙

"I'm sorry, my spark… I'm going to miss it by a week." Morgan's expression was apologetic. "There was a supplier issue in port that set us back. We're scrambling to get back on track as quickly as possible, but we'll probably still get back to Vesuvia a handful of days late at best."

"Mórnkan, it's okay." Rowan reached out to touch the glass of the enchanted mirror. It was so off-putting to feel its cold, smooth surface instead of his wife's cheek. "I understand. I'll just hang out with Asra and Muriel like I usually do. Don't worry about it; you look stressed enough already."

Morgan pouted slightly. "I'm still sorry. It's not fair… The one time we get delayed…"

"I know. But I promise it's okay. I'm not upset."

"I know you're not." Morgan sighed. "I'll bring back something nice for you. To make up for it."

"Only if you want to."

"Of course. I…need to go now. I love you. See you soon."

"I love you too. See you soon." Rowan smiled as Morgan blew them a kiss, then ended the call. She was sweet to worry about this, but in all honesty, they rarely did much for their birthday anyway. It was disappointing that she wouldn't be home, but it wouldn't ruin their plans or anything. They'd understood that this might happen when they married her. The possibility of missing important days just came with the territory.

Still, that knowledge didn't stop his heart from aching at the thought of being separated for even longer. At the same time, he'd felt worse in the past.

Four monotonous days went by. The calls with Morgan had been shorter than usual, and she seemed so tired. It was probably a good thing that she wouldn't be there for Rowan's birthday (at least, that's what they told themself); she wouldn't have the energy to do much, which would make her feel even worse than she felt now. He missed hearing her go on about her day, though. She was so cute when she rambled about her daily life.

Rowan's birthday dawned bright and pleasantly warm. They went about their usual morning routine, and headed to the shop after breakfast. To his surprise, Asra was standing on the doorstep, his signature catlike grin on his face.

"Morning, Ro. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, but…why are you out here this early?"

"I couldn't just let you be alone on your birthday, could I?"

"I guess not. I thought we'd planned on me visiting you two this afternoon."

"I know. I figured I'd swing by in the morning, too. In fact…don't bother opening the shop today. You should come spend the whole day with us." His purple eyes sparkled. He had to be up to something.

"Asra, if you have anything hiding in a cake or something, I'm not interested."

"Aww, how did you know?" Asra laughed brightly. "Seriously though, come back to our place for the day. Muri has something for you and he's getting impatient, since he doesn't like visiting your new place."

"...Yeah, okay. You win." Rowan smiled a little as Asra took their hand, tugging them down the street. He wondered what they were doing. Then again, this wasn't that out of place for them.

One long walk later, they arrived at the cabin Muriel and Asra lived in. Asra paused to say hi to the chickens before they both went inside.

"Honey, I'm home!" Asra called as he stepped inside. His voice summoned Inanna, who promptly ran up to greet Rowan. Rowan laughed, crouching to give her a good head scratch.

"Hey, girl! How're you?"

Inanna let out a bark, as quiet as she could manage, then nudged their wedding pendant. Her head tilted to the side as she looked around for a moment, as if questioning where Morgan was.

"She's…away right now. She was supposed to come home last night, but…her schedule didn't work out."

Inanna whined.

"I know. I'm sad about it, too." They managed a little bit of a smile. "But it's alright. We'll have plenty of fun either way."

Inanna nuzzled them lightly, then trotted back to the fireplace. Rowan followed her and took a seat on the sofa. Soon enough, he and Asra were chatting about their lives recently; it had been a bit since they'd been able to have a properly long talk.

The morning passed by more quickly than it had in weeks. It turned out that the gift Muriel had apparently been impatient to give them was a wooden relief carving of a large, intricate tree with a sun and moon in the sky above it. It would be perfect as wall art for his and Morgan's home. He wondered where they'd put it.

Now, he and Asra were heading back to Rowan's place. Asra had been insistent on having pizza for lunch, but they didn't have all the ingredients. Rowan's place was a little further away, but it meant not spending extra on ingredients they already had. At least, that was what Asra said.

Rowan pulled one of the front doors open when they arrived, and was greeted by a familiar smell. A smell that shouldn't have been there; there shouldn't be anyone in the villa at all, let alone anyone cooking. It was faint, though. They could have been imagining it. Asra didn't notice it…or if they did, they didn't care.

"Which way is the kitchen again?"

"To the left…" Rowan wandered down the short hall that led to the kitchen and dining room. As soon as he was in view of the kitchen, every muscle in their body froze.

There, in the kitchen, was Morgan. She was working on beef stew (and from the scent of it, there was also bread in the oven), and wore a particularly revealing dress. She looked up from the stove when she heard footsteps, a bright smile spreading across her face.

"What…"

"Surprise! Happy birthday, darling." Morgan walked over, laughing when they pulled her close.

"You said… I thought…"

"I thought we would be, but I was wrong. We got in late last night… Asra offered to help me surprise you."

Rowan looked over their shoulder, but it seemed their friend had slipped away to give them a moment. He looked down at his wife with wide eyes. Her own green eyes sparkled with laughter.

"And I did get you plenty of presents, they're wrapped up in our room…"

They laughed incredulously. She was really thinking about gifts? "Oh, stuff the presents! I already have the best present I could ask for. You're home."

Morgan blushed, then squeaked as Rowan kissed her. Their arms wrapped around her waist, and hers wound around their neck.

"You're home," Rowan murmured softly once they finally pulled back.

"I'm home… I love you."

"I love you too. Come on…lunch is ready."

[127-spring]

okay, now that i've actually caught up on the lastart episode that's given us our nct tokyo line-up...

i'm so happy jungmin made it. i knew he would, even before getting spoiled for it yesterday, and i just know his vocals are going to draw lots of very well-deserved attention!!

but... i was not expecting to see him cry... twice... and the fact that the second time was because haechan said he could become an unmatched vocalist?? tbh that just made me desperate for the eventual haechan/jungmin harmonies on a future nct u song!

as expected, riku's debuting. i said in the tags of a post yesterday that i can already imagine him on an nct u track, am i the only one needing to hear him with yangyang and mark?? sm, make it happen.

you know... that would actually be great... like 'from home' with the mix of languages, but from the rap line...

i also very much expected daeyoung to debut, i think he's a very solid vocalist and i do think he'll grow on me more with time.

(i do think minjae was robbed though. dying on that particular hill.)

look... i am not opposed to sakuya becoming an idol... i just don't like that he's becoming an idol right now. if it were up to me, i'd be encouraging him (and ryo) to be nurturing their obvious talents in after-school clubs and at home. unfortunately it's not up to me.

and admittedly. i don't like some of the historical revisionism i'm seeing from certain corners of the fanbase. i saw someone yesterday expressing outrage that minors would be debuting in "nct of all places" and it's like. bestie. have you heard of nct dream.

to be clear that does not make it okay. but i just find it weird that some people are acting like this is an entirely new phenomenon for nct. if anything, i'm relieved sakuya & ryo are at least closer to mark's debut age than jisung's!!

it's hardly an ideal situation. but it is what it is. it's sm, making decisions based on future profit instead of their artists' wellbeing, and i don't think they're about to quit their long and tired pattern of debuting minors any time soon.

at the very least, i hope sakuya & ryo get plenty of support from their older members, and opportunities to socialise beyond the idol world. as i've said before they are both very talented, and they're clearly enthusiastic about this. i just hope they don't suffer too much from debuting so young.

sad to see ryu not make it. given his strengths already, i am optimistic that he'll debut eventually, but it would have been good to see him on this line-up.

and i know i said how anderson didn't strike me as ready for debut, but it did hurt my heart to see him upset about not getting in. i am holding out some hope for his future debut, too.

this post is getting so long but i just have one more thing to say, one question i have been holding in my heart for nearly five entire years...

does this mean we're finally getting a japanese version of regular??

[v1ctory-or-sovngarde]

Sanctuary

August 8th of @tes-summer-fest ➽━━❥ Prompt: mortal or sanctuary ➽━━❥ AO3 link Notes: ~2k words. Not me making a second tesfest piece about a player home...I just feel strongly about them 😭 Anyway, I present to you: two gal pals enjoying the safety of the dragonborn's luxurious home. Elvira belongs to my bestie. ♥ You can see art of them both here.

The rain came down just before they reached the bronze doors of Vlindrel Hall--the dragonborn's personal sanctuary. Elvira scrambled into the safety of the entryway, shaking water off her whiskers with a huff. Phantom reached out to pull her closer, chuckling. Thunder boomed in the distance as the rain steadily began to increase.

“It’s only a little rain,” she rumbled.

“I don’t like it.” Elvira squirmed, sulking as she glanced up at her.

“You are so delicate.” Phantom brushed some water off Elvira’s hood and turned to unlock the doors. “Don’t worry. Plenty warm inside. I have a person who takes care of the place when I am gone.”

The doors unlocked with a heavy clunk. Phantom hauled one open and held it, gesturing for Elvira to go first. The smaller khajiit ducked her head while walking past. Phantom followed, shutting the door behind them. She could feel her heart flutter with pride--she would finally get to invite her into her life. There were so many things she wanted to show her, to give her. She sent word to Argis to come clean and cook before they arrived, and gave him extra money for the butcher. He promised them the best lamb they would ever taste. After fighting a dragon, she was ready for every bite of it.

Firelight glinted off Elvira’s sleek black fur as she pulled the hood of her cloak down. She shook the rain from her hair with her small paws. She walked forward slowly, looking around the room in surprise. Her gaze settled on the bookshelves.

“Wow…”

“This one is a collector.” Phantom lumbered into the room behind her and puffed out her chest triumphantly. “Read whatever you like. These two side rooms, if you are interested in alchemy...enchanting....” She gestured nonchalantly toward the overflowing alchemist’s study. She didn’t know what half of the ingredients were for, but at least the colorful plants hanging from the rafters looked nice. They smelled expensive. “I have a thing or two for it.” 

Elvira grinned at her, her violet eyes sparkling in delight. “Really? I wouldn’t have taken you for the type.”

“I am a collector of fine things. Thief of thieves.” Phantom continued strolling through the room, into the larger chamber and the warmth of the roaring hearth. Argis kept his word, she noticed. On the table was a decadent display of meat and vegetables, with bottles of dark wine to the side and small goblets of fruit. She could feel herself salivating. She folded her arms behind her back and stopped before the table. 

To her left, she could see her room in perfect order, down to the freshly polished weaponry above her headboard. To the right, the bath in the spare room was filled and steaming. Perks of living in the city, she thought. Hot water always running through the pipes, warming her home, readily available for bathing. She felt another swell of pride and hoped Elvira would find it sophisticated. She wanted to be sophisticated in front of her, badly. Life as a sellsword had not prepared her for time spent with scholars. 

“You must have paid a fortune for this place.” 

Phantom looked over her shoulder. Elvira had trailed after her and was staring at the spread of food. 

“You have a chef?”

“Uh--no, no.” Phantom waved awkwardly. “Nothing like that. A housecarl. Sometimes he cooks for me. I asked him to make us something nice…” She scratched the back of her head with a crooked smile. “...This one cannot cook.”

Elvira shook her head. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.” She stepped forward, prompting Phantom to pull out a chair for her. 

“It’s true. Come, sit.” 

Elvira looked down at the chair, seeming mildly flustered, but she took a seat and let Phantom tuck her closer to the table again. “Thank you. This is really...I’m just surprised. You have a beautiful home.”

Phantom raised a brow as she sat across from her at the table and reached for a roll. “You expected something else?”

“No,” Elvira blurted out. “It’s just...You travel for work, right? It must be hard to be away from home, and your belongings…” Her ivory whiskers twitched slightly. “I would certainly miss all my books. And my jewelry.” 

“You do not leave the college often, eh?” 

“I haven’t for a while. There are classes, research projects, artifact studies, and not to mention that now there are dragons storming villages outside of Winterhold,” she sighed. “I take my work seriously. I want to do right by my parents, since I owe them so much...”

Phantom took a bite of her roll and chewed thoughtfully. Elvira had told her about them a little on their journey to the dungeon; she had been taken in and raised by Dunmer. They were expert sorcerers--and necromancers. She wondered what kind of people they were like. Across the table, Elvira fidgeted.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed nervously. “That was more than I meant to say.”

“No need to apologize.” Phantom reached for a bottle of wine. “This one wants to know more.”

Elvira hesitated before speaking again. “You have blood matted in your fur,” she said quietly. “Shouldn’t we take a moment to...you know?”

Phantom uncorked the bottle and poured the wine into her goblet. The answer was yes, they should take a moment to clean her wounds, but she needed more time to work up the courage for it. Elvira had been insistent on the fact that she would help patch her up in return for protecting her on the road. She wasn’t sure how she would handle something so intimate, or at least without cracking under pressure.

“Eat while the food is hot. Argis worked hard to get it done on time.” That was true enough. “Then we worry about the rest. Is hard to think on an empty stomach.”

Elvira cocked her head to the side, staring at her with her brow furrowed, then she sighed again. “I can feel it. You’re one of those kinds of people that’s so stubborn, it’s useless to argue. Am I right?”

Phantom beamed. “Yes.”

“Alright. You’re right. While it’s hot,” she agreed and lifted her own goblet for Phantom to pour wine into. She poured generously. “To Argis.”

“To Argis.” 

Though they meant to eat quickly, the two khajiit spent over an hour at the table, laughing and trading stories. When they finally realized how long they had been sitting there, Phantom ushered her guest into the spare room with fresh clothes and towels. A hot bath after a long journey was good for the soul, she swore; it would do them both good to soak. She told Elvira to take as long as she wanted so she could unpack their belongings in the meantime, and promised to go after her. Elvira bathed long enough for Phantom to finish all their unpacking, though Phantom herself found it hard to lounge in the tub with a guest in the house. 

As she sat in the steaming water, she turned to look at the closed bronze doors. Just beyond them, Elvira would be at the table. Maybe going through the herbs they plucked on the way to Markarth. Maybe reading one of the books she had procured. Maybe simply waiting. The dragonborn groaned and splashed her face. Why was it so difficult to act normal around her?

Water dripping from her fur, Phantom stood and stepped out of the tub to take a towel from a nearby stand. She dried her face ferociously, grumbling into the fabric, then did her best to dry the rest of her body off. Her usual post-bath routine was to lie luxuriously in front of the hearth to dry her pelt. Not appropriate for guests. The thought of Elvira doing such a thing crossed her mind briefly; she shook her head vigorously to clear the (admittedly tantalizing) mental image.

Once she had dressed in her house clothes and her fur was merely damp, she opened the doors of the spare room and peered out. Elvira was in front of a wooden stand. The small khajiit had one of its drawers open and was poking around in it, her tail swishing excitedly. Phantom blinked, then the room came alive with her booming laughter. 

Elvira practically fell over herself shutting the drawer and regaining her composure as she whipped around to face her.

“I--I--” she stammered helplessly.

Knowing that Elvira had her faults made it much easier for Phantom to gather herself and swagger into the room. The dragonborn’s shirt hung open on her chest, her soft white fur sticking out in random locks as it dried, and her heavy tail swung lazily behind her as she walked. She smiled at Elvira broadly.

“I’m sorry,” Elvira finally managed. “I was just...I…”

“Ahh, this one does not mind. Is only right for young khajiit to be curious about the world.” Phantom came up beside her and pulled the drawer open again to reveal a slew of potions in glass bottles. “Never use them. Take what your heart desires, sweet one.”

Elvira tucked a lock of hair behind her ear shyly. “Just looking.” She offered an apologetic grin. “You know, you’d probably feel better if you drank a few of these. What happened on the road...I mean…”

She still hadn’t mentioned it explicitly, but Phantom understood. Suddenly being thrust into battle with a dragon had been bad enough, but the blinding, golden soul emanating from its corpse and then flowing through her armor--that part was the worst. There would be no hiding her identity now. 

“There are medical supplies in my room,” Phantom answered, walking away. “Potions are so slimy. This one is not scared of a few stitches.” She sighed pleasantly as she entered her room. The past few months had kept her on the roads, and she was deeply grateful for the chance to throw herself on the bed. Fragrant herbs hung on the wall above her prized collection: jeweled skulls, golden idols, shimmering wands, clusters of soul gems the size of mudcrabs. The library would probably have bought it all off her, if she hadn’t wanted it all as trophies for herself.

Elvira walked along the edges of the room to inspect the array, occasionally touching an item gingerly. Phantom purred as she watched from where she was sprawled on the bed. Above her hung a glass sword and a twisted mage’s staff with a rose at the head. She gestured up at them vaguely.

“This one likes to keep some interesting things from work. The college already has plenty, eh?”

“Incredible,” Elvira breathed. She reached to pick up a crystal orb--glancing first at Phantom for approval--then brought it up to her face, eyes gleaming. “These are all from your adventures?”

Phantom nodded. Many of them were stolen, but that counted as adventure, right? “Each has a story,” she added with a broad gesture. “Which one you want to know about?”

“All of them. But,” Elvira said, giving her a stern look, “that can happen after you stop distracting me from taking care of you.”

Phantom grumbled at that. Part of her was hoping that washing out her wounds in the hot bath would have been enough, but Elvira was persistent. The other part of her was secretly delighted by her persistence. She sighed loudly to keep up the facade, closed her eyes, and lolled her head to the side to nod at a squat dresser.

“That one. If you must.” After waiting a few seconds, Phantom peeked at her with one eye, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of Elvira tending to her, then squeezed her eyes shut again as the smaller khajiit turned around with a cluster of supplies in her arms. 

“I will get my answer about the dragon, by the way.” The mattress dipped as the smaller woman sat next to her; Phantom’s thunderous purring resumed as Elvira’s dainty hand swept her hair away from her face. “No matter how much you try to talk your way out of it.”

“I won’t give up my secrets so easily, sweet one. Part of my charm is my mystery, no?”

Elvira leaned in close, their noses almost touching. It made Phantom’s heart stammer. “Fine. If you don’t want to tell me, I’ll have to extract the information in other ways.”

“Ah, well, when you put it that way…”

The mage swatted her gently. “You rogues are all the same,” she chided, though she was grinning. Phantom chuckled. She let her eyes close again as Elvira held her torn ear gingerly, a cloth with disinfectant in her other hand. 

“Now, if you’re quite done being mysterious, I need you to hold still…”

Hopefully, the truth about being dragonborn would not scare her away. She wanted to prove to Elvira just how different from other rogues she really was.

[fangirlstorycreator]

Hey Bestie 🖤 I thought about a Max Parish scenario for you to write, cause I obviously adore your writings. Imagine we are his physiotherapist when he is in the wheelchair. And we work over month with him but then we're having a holiday and can't finish his therapy. And after a few month he comes back surprising us that he's walking again and asking us for a date cause he fell in love with us? I think he would be so cute. Take your time Bestie 🖤 🖤 🖤

Of courses bestie 🤗 thank you, I'm so glad you like my stories 💚 I hope you enjoy it 😊

You had been a physiotherapist for many years now, and had dealt with many different injuries on a variety of patients. However, your new patient was a bit of a handful. His name was Max Parish, and you were to give him mental and physical support after an accident happend, rendering him unable to use his legs. Luckily, it wasnt anything to major and with the right exercises, he should be back on his feet within a few months. You would help him onto his feet and guide him across a little platform that had a handrail on both sides, so he was able to hold himself up.

At the start, he was very down, and he felt quite depressed about the whole situation. He just wanted to shut the world out, but you had seen this before with your other patients, and understood why he was feeling like that. But you were calm and patient with him, allowing him time to get to know you and trust what you were doing was for his best interest. And before you knew it, he spoke to you, and treated you like a best friend. He was funny, and clever, and always made you laugh and smile. He wasnt like any other man you had met before, most men you knew, including previous boyfriends never made you feel happier that you do around Max.

He had that vibe about him, and you really enjoyed his company. Even to the point where you developed a crush on him. How couldn't you? His personality was so much like yours, and he was very tall, handsome, beautiful eyes and had stubble, you loved a man with a little stubble around his face, it looked sexy. He was nearly at the end of his treatment, only about 3 weeks left to go, when you had to break the news to him that another physiotherapist will be taking over. "What do you mean another physiotherapist? Why cant I complete my treatment with you?" "I'm sorry Max but I'm afraid this is the last day I'm going to be with you. You see I booked a holiday last year and I'm going tomorow night" "Where are you going?"

"I'm off to Greece for a month. My sister is getting married over there and when the wedding is over, she is going to another part of the island for her honeymoon, and she needs someone to take care of her 3 girls while shes away. So yeh, I'm on babysitting duty, but in a place where there is sun, sea and plenty of icecream's to keep them happy" "Well that sounds really great" But then his face turns a little sad. "I have to be honest, I dont want another physiotherapist, I like being with you" "As do I Max, but at least we have one more session before I go. Now, let's get you out of that chair" You both carry on with the session, and when its finished you both say your goodbyes.

You spend the next month in Greece, enjoying your sisters wedding and looking after your nieces. And once she came back, it was time for you to head back home. After a few days, you were back in work and ready to start your working day again. It was around about 1 o clock, just after your appointment with your second patient when you were sat at your desk typing out an exercise plan for one of your new patients. When there is a knock at the door. "Come in" you shout out, your very surprised when the door opens and Max walks in to your office, hes no longer in the chair.

"Wow Max look at you! Your all better, it's nice to see you again" "Its nice to see you too, I thought I'd drop by and you know, show you how I'm doing" He says playfully, while stretching his legs out and bending them, showing off his moves. This makes you giggle. "Well I'm glad your doing much better Max, but I must say im just a little confused? Your not in a wheelchair anymore, why are you back?" His full attention is back onto you, and he moves his hand to his head, removes his hat and is trying desperately to tidy up his hair. "Ah yes! About that! Well the thing is Y/N...I wanted to know if you were free for a drink tomorow night?"

Your a little shocked, you still had a crush on Max but you didnt think he liked you back. "Really?" "Yes Y/N. I uhhh... I wont lie, I've been crazy about you since we met. You were so patient with me when I was being a completely grumpy pain in the ass, and visiting you every Thursday was the highlight of my week" His kind words instantly make you blush. "I think your so beautiful, inside and out. And I'd love a chance to get to know you more and hopefully see if there is something hear. But uhhh if, if you dont want to..." You smile happily at him and say "Well, technically I shouldn't be going out with my patient" "Oh, oh I see..." You lean across your desk and smile at him. "But...your not my patient anymore....are you?" A proud smile spreads across Max's face. "Yes Max, I'd love to go for a drink with you" "Awsome!" Then you both share a laugh, before exchanging phone numbers, ready to make plans for your date.