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hvnlygrl · 2 days ago

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hii!! Can you do JJ

where they were at a kegger and she drank alot so he had to carry her home and change her but he sees that she's wearing a pad and then he asks kie for help and then wtv

don’t worry.

pairing — jj maybank x fem!reader

word count — 1.9k

warnings — fluff, drinking and smoking, unconscious/extremely drunk reader, sweet jj, drinking then driving (not drunk driving), period talk, mention of toxic shock syndrome.

synopsis — after you have a few too many at the kegger, jj brings you home and takes care of you for the night. however, he needs kie’s help when he realizes he has no idea what to do for a girl on her period.

notes — this is so sweet i can literally just imagine his face when he realizes 😭

even though you told jj on the way to the kegger that your plan for the night was to get so fucked up you could barely walk, he was still shocked to see you down beer after beer. whether you chugged from a funnel or shotgunned, he watched you intently. he was drinking too, but not nearly as much, and his tolerance was a lot higher than yours was.

jj knew that being your boyfriend meant that he had to stay alert to be sure that nobody, whether they were a kook, pogue or touron, gave you any trouble throughout the night. though, he also knew that everyone was fully aware that you were his girl, and they would be complete idiots to put themself in that position.

you shot jj a half smile and a drunken wink as you beckoned him over to the edge of the treeline, gar pack in hand. he knew that there were two rolled blunts in that pack, two that he rolled before you left the house tonight. he grinned as he excused himself from the conversation with john b, following you over to your top-secret hiding spot. it was an old pump-shed a few hundred feet from where the kegger took place, hidden in the woods. he walks in, settles in next to you on the ground and pulls the lighter from his pocket.

you scoot closer to him, pulling your phone from your back pocket as you pull up spotify. “let’s set the mood,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at him not-so-seductively.

he laughs, shaking his head at you, “you havin’ fun, baby?”

“i’m having so much fun,” you’re not slurring but he can tell just by the sound of your voice that you’re getting fairly drunk. “i’m so excited for this blunt,” you squeal, rubbing your hands together like some cartoon villain.

“well, let’s get this party started then,” jj retorts, flashing his signature grin at you. he roasts the end of the blunt in the flame for a few moments before bringing it up to his lips, puffing on it a few times until it begins burning evenly. he always took the first hit, though he would never admit that this was the reason, because he needed to be sure that it wasn’t laced. he bought from the same guy every time, but after hearing all the horror stories, he just couldn’t take the risk with you. to him, his life was expendable and yours needed to be protected at all costs.

you watch him closely, completely unaware of the silent sacrifice, admiring his features under the mixture of the moonlight coming through the broken roof and the flame of the lighter. he takes a few hits, holding them in for a bit before exhaling them. on the last hit, he holds it, swishing the smoke around in his mouth before letting it out as a ghost, pulling it back in expertly.

you take the blunt from between his fingers, taking your own hits. you do a few ghosts before working on blowing o’s, the milky clouds flowing perfectly in the breezeless shed.

by the end of the blunt, you’re feeling pretty crossfaded. fade into you by mazzy star begins playing from your phone, a soft gasp flying from your lips as you stand up. “dance with me.”

“what?” jj questions with a laugh.

“c’mon, jj, dance with me!” you beckon him aggressively, clapping happily when he finally stands up.

you wrap your hands around the back of his neck, resting them there comfortably as he lets his hands grip your waist gently. the two of you sway back and forth to the beat as you sing softly. he can’t help but adore you in this moment, seeing you so full of light and happiness, completely unbothered by anything and everything else. he knows that the only thing going through your head is being with him, and he can’t help but be totally in love with you.

when the song ends, he gives you a soft kiss, letting his forehead rest against yours as the next song begins playing. in this moment, it's just the two of you, and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

“you ready to go back soon?” you ask after a few minutes, “i told sarah i’d take some shots with her at the waterline.”

he nods, “sure, whenever you’re ready, babe. i’ll probably go grab john b and pope to smoke this other blunt if that’s cool.”

you shrug, “it’s your weed, babe, do whatever you want,” you give him a smile, leaning up to kiss him one more time. the kiss is interrupted by your phone ringing, sarah’s name and picture popping up on the screen. “shit, that’s sarah,” you pull away, answering it. “what’s up sare-bear!”

“where are you? i wanna take these shots, and i’ll take them without you if you don’t hurry your ass up,” you can tell just by her tone that she’s joking, but the threat does kick you into high gear.

“don’t you dare! i’m coming, i’ll be there in a sec,” you reply, matching her tone before you hang up. “gotta go, babe!” you give him another kiss before darting out of the shed, running to the meeting spot you and sarah had agreed on.

kie is sitting next to sarah on the sand when you arrive, both of them giving you a look that screams you better not have been screwing.

“we were smoking,” you reply to the silent comments, crossing your fingers over your heart, “scouts honor.”

“whatever,” sarah shrugs jokingly, “let’s get it!”

you each take turns clinking the shots together before downing them, laughing and telling stories from the last few days.

you lose track of how much alcohol you’ve consumed, but that mixed with the blunt you smoked with jj earlier has you reeling in place. “y’all,” you begin, words slurred and eyes glossy, “i think i’m fucked.”

sarah’s as drunk as you are, giggling at the statement, “me too, girlfriend, me too.”

kiara, on the other hand is significantly more sober than you both, letting out a soft laugh as she hands you her water bottle. “drink up,” she orders, playing mother yet again. “i’ll go find your boyfriends.”

when she steps away, you and sarah laugh, drawing images in the sand. “ugh, i needed this,” sarah slurs at you.

“me too,” you nod, eyelids heavy and brain foggy, “it’s so nice to just not have to give a shit for a night.”

“right?!” sarah exclaims. she rests her head on your shoulder, and you lean your own against the top of her head. “i love girls night.”

“so real,” you laugh, “you’re like my sister, y’know?”

“really?” she lifts her head to look at you, drunken tears welling at her waterline, “that means so much, y/n, you’re like the coolest person i know.”

“yea, really, you and kie are the sisters i always wanted that i never got to have growing up,” you affirm, “you guys are everything to me. i got your back no matter what, y’know that right?”

“yea, i know, don’t worry,” sarah nods, “i got your back too, no matter what girl.”

kiara returns, john b and jj in tow. jj lets out a soft laugh at the sight of the two of you before moving in front of you, hands extended, “you ready to go home?”

you nod, reaching your hands out to meet his as he pulls you up. the sudden movement has you feeling dizzy for a moment, sending you stumbling into his chest, “woah.”

“oh yeah, definitely time to get you home, my girl,” he nods, giving you as much assistance as you need to stumble back to the van. he’s far from drunk as he helps you into the passenger seat of your own car. once he’s got you settled in, he moves around to the driver’s seat, starting the car and setting the air to the way he knows you like best.

it’s a five minute drive back to your house. by the time you make it home, you’re falling all over yourself, unable to see or walk straight. jj’s right by your side, guiding you up the front steps and through the house. you’re more than half asleep, hardly conscious when he gets you to the bedroom. he lies you down on your side of the bed, moving to your dresser to grab comfier clothes for you to sleep in. he runs to the bathroom for makeup wipes, knowing you’d be pissed if you woke up in the same makeup from last night.

jj starts the process by wiping off your makeup as best as he can. once he’s satisfied with that, or pretty sure you’ll be satisfied with it in the morning, he moves to change your clothes. first he pulls of your shoes and socks, knowing how annoyed you get by sleeping in socks. then he pulls the crop top over your head, sliding a big t-shirt on in its place. after he’s got your shirt situated, he unhooks your bra and pulls your arms through the straps, pulling it out from under the shirt the same way he’d seen you do a million times. the last step is getting you out of your jeans. he unbuttons and unzips them before shimmying them down your legs and throwing them as close to the hamper as he can get them. he’s about to put your favorite pair of sleep shorts on when he notices the wings of a pad sticking out from your underwear. he bites at his lip, unsure of what to do.

jj doesn’t have the first idea about what to do for a girl on their period in that regard, but he knows that he can’t just leave you like that. he’s heard kiara’s rants about toxic shock syndrome a million times and he has no clue if leaving it for that long would make you sick. kiara, he realizes. he pulls out his phone, dials her number and waits for her to pick up.

“what’s up, jj? everything okay?” she replies, still with pope at the kegger. “how’s y/n?”

“she’s sleeping,” he responds, “look, i hate to ask you this, but she’s like passed out right now and she’s got a pad on. i don’t know what to do, i don’t wanna leave her like this-”

kiara cuts him off with a soft laugh, “i’ll be there in a few, hang tight.”

jj sighs a breath of relief, “oh, thank god. thank you so much, kie, i owe you one.”

“no problem,” she laughs, “see you in a sec.”

jj waits patiently until kiara gets there, quickly letting her in and sending her to the bedroom. he waits in the living room, watching instagram reels as he waits for her to do whatever she needs to do, completely relieved that she knows what to do.

she makes her way to the living room after a few minutes, “got her all clean and tucked in.”

“thank you so much, kie, seriously, i had no idea what to do,” he rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“no worries,” she shrugs it off, “just girls helping girls. you know i’m all about that.”

“true that,” he laughs, giving her a quick goodbye as she makes her way out to her car. he goes back to the bedroom, sliding in next to you after putting your phone on the charger on your nightstand. he also took the courtesy of bringing your trashcan to the side of the bed just in case.

-> back to masterlist

taglist — @rubiehart @sarahsangelicdoll @baebankz

#jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #obx fluff #outerbanks fluff #outer banks fluff #obx smut

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jaeminify · 3 days ago

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[4:39am] ☆ mark lee.

synopsis ☆ this was wrong, sinfully so. but when you're presented with two strong arms and three sultry words whispered in your ear, mark lee has you right where he wants you, and you're not complaining.

pairing ☆ dom!mark x afab!reader

warning(s) ☆ spit kink, swearing, semi public sex?? (they're in a bathroom but it's clean), mark is possessive, slight student x teacher but mark is the TA and they're the same age so... porn without a plot!

"Baby, fuck..."

Mark Lee was known to keep his composure. He never lost his cool or got himself too angry where he had to excuse himself from a classroom, but, when it came to you, all attempts of patience flew out the window and out crawled all the greedy thoughts Mark desperately tried to hide every time he saw you.

As if being your TA wasn't enough, Mark had the (unfortunate) pleasure of becoming your personal tutor. It was thanks to Professor Jeong that Mark gave you the extra attention to help you secure your internship next semester.

Little does your professor know that Mark was helping you in many ways, instead of one.

"Fuck—" Mark whispers again, trying his best to control his hips from thrusting deeper in your mouth, ignoring the bass of the music that's blasting through the house.

Outside of classes the two of you were friends. Yes, friends, even with his dick in your mouth you two had interesting conversations that made Mark want to learn more about you.

All your likes, dislikes, pet peeves and habits. He just wasn't aware of where it was leading up to (read: here as in, in a house party with drunk adults slurring their speech everywhere you went, but Mark and you were in a spare room on the second floor— that was off limits except to you).

You trace the veins of his cock, smiling up at him when you pull your mouth away. Wrapping your fingers around his shaft to drag your palm up, and down, and up, and down, taunting him until his eyes rolled back and his hips thrusted forward. You were thinking about all the ways he could ruin you and all the ways he could make you cum.

You tell him exactly that, and he shudders.

"Want you to make my legs shake, Mark, I need you to be all I think about. You want that too, right?," You whisper loud enough for him to hear and it's killing him. If not literally, then he might be feeling it now. He couldn't believe someone who looked so innocent, could look so deliciously sinful when on her knees with his cock in your hand and your lips covered in spit.

Mark gets an idea and tugs your chin upwards with his hand, "Open," he demands and easily, you follow his orders. A ball of spit lands straight onto your tongue, earning a moan which Mark catches between his lips when glides his tongue across yours.

"Take some more baby, I know you can. You and your dirty little mouth are gonna get more than what you asked for." He grunted, but you giggle, happily taking his dick in your mouth, watching his chest heave up and down while he mutters a string of curses, along with praises to keep you going.

"That's right, pretty girl. Just like that— Oh, you're so good. This isn't your first time, is it?" He groans, fisting your hair to ground himself when your tongue plays with his balls, giving kitty licks while your hand glides up and down his shaft.

"Fuck—" Mark forcefully pulls you off his cock, ignoring the way it twitches when you whine from being interrupted.

Instead, Mark makes it up to you by placing you on the counter, pushing your skirt up to your hips and getting on his knees.

"Sorry to stop you baby, but I just can't fucking take it— Need to taste you." Before you can respond, he dives right in with his tongue against your clit, flicking it then mouthing it so well, you have to stop yourself from sliding down the marble counter of the bathroom.

As of now you didn't care where Mark wanted to fuck you, or eat you out. You'd take either. The bathroom, the hallway, the staircase for everyone to see— the pleasure was too much and Mark was enjoying it, possibly more than you.

The more he licked the louder his moans got, and the vibrations were adding to your pleasure.

"Shit— Mark! Oh my god— yes, yes, yes! Yes! God, right there!"

While Mark tried his very best to be quiet when you went down on him, you did not. You didn't care if the next person lining up outside could hear you. You were getting eaten out by the boy you found incredibly hot, there was no way you were going to keep yourself quiet.

Before you knew it, you were squirting out your juices on his face, but instead of shying away, you pushed your hips further up into Mark's face, to which he gladly accepted as he cupped your legs into his arms and pushed his lips against your pussy, licking you clean and drinking up all the juices you had let out.

You don't know what happens for a split second, but soon, Mark is staring right at you with a closed mouth, but when he leans forward to kiss you, here's out another string of saliva onto your tongue, making your roll your eyes back.

Your cunt is still sensitive, flinching when you feel his cock against it — still hard, and erect. But you're too distracted by the kiss he gives you to even care. You ignore the ache in your bottom region and wrap your legs around his middle, wanting to be as close as you could be to him, and Mark accepts.

He grabs at any skin he feels; your thighs, your hips, your waist before landing right on your ass and he squeezes it like his life depends on it. You let out a squeal that turns into a moan, and you feel Mark smirk against your cheek as he leaves opened mouth kisses on your face.

"Yeah? Like that?" He slaps it one more time before grabbing a handful, then tugging you close so this time his cock rests directly on top of your cunt, smirking at the face you make. "I'm gonna have my way with you baby, and I'm not gonna stop—" he pants out.

"If that's not okay, and if that's not what you want, tell me now, angel. Tell me now and I'll let you go and we'll pretend this never happened."

You can't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. Even when he was clouded with lust, and his eyes were looking straight into your eyes, you know you could easily back out without him being mean or judgemental about it. But, you waited too long to get here with Mark to back out.

All you could see was the way his dick rested between your lips, and your mind was screaming more!

"Mark," You wrap your arms around his neck to pull his closer. Your lips against his, you lick them then smile, "I don't want to back out, or stop here right as it's getting good."

Mark shuts his eyes as if he's fighting a dilemma in his head, but then he's staring down at you and leaving soft kisses against your jaw.

"What do you want to do, Y/N? Say the word. I'll give it to you."

You smile softly when he reaches behind your ear, giving it a small peck then trailing down your neck again.

"I want you, in me." He halts, then looks up at you again as if to confirm what he heard, and you gladly repeat yourself. "I want you, to fuck me so stupid that all I can think about is your name," You lick his upper lip, "Your cock," You tug his bottom lip with your teeth, softly pulling it back then letting go.

Lastly, you kiss his lips.

"I want you, Mark."

Mark smiled and carried you in his arms, locking the bathroom door as he laid you on the rugged carpet in the middle of the gigantic bathroom. It helped keep you warm from the marble floor, Mark would prepare something special for you; a picnic date first then a second round in a bedroom, like it was meant to be in, but right now he needed to please you.

"Baby wants my cock?" He asks as he lays you down. When you nod and reach up for him again, he smirks, finding it hot that you can't seem to get enough of him.

"Don't worry," He whispers against your lips as he hovers over you, "I'm gonna make sure you never forget who you were with tonight."

☆ rough draft but i thought of it in the moment and decided to let my thoughts run free LOL hope u liked it <3 till the next oneshot! any typos or errors will be fixed when i reread x

☆ ps. i have a brothers best friend!jaemin wip im still editing which may take a while so i hope this helps quench the thirst a little <3

#mark lee imagines #mark lee oneshot #mark lee smut #mark smut #nct dream smut #nct 127 smut #mark nct smut #nct dream one shot

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alotofpockets · 3 days ago

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Clingy | Vivianne Miedema x Man City!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?"

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

-----

You had been at City for a few years now, and your teammates knew you well. They knew you loved the team, and hanging out together, but they also knew that you weren’t as affectionate as most of them were.

Never did your teammates think anything of you not being affectionate with them. It wasn’t something everyone enjoyed, and they knew that. They were just happy to have you around.

However when Viv joined the team, all of a sudden they saw a shift in your affection.

The first time they noticed something was when you were on the bus, sitting next to Viv. Her head leaning on your shoulder, after she had fallen asleep. Most of your teammates had seen the moment, but figured Viv had just nodded off, and you didn’t want to wake her.

But it wasn’t just that moment. It didn’t matter in what environment you were, Viv always found a way to be near you.

When walking towards the pitch for training, Viv would loop her arm through yours. You never shrugged her off, and your teammates noticed there how naturally you let it happen.

During drills at training, she would nudge your shoulder ever so often while waiting for the next drill. Sometimes it was to point something out, other times it was to joke around.

Even during games. When you and Viv would both sit on the bench, she made sure to sit next to you. When someone would try to squeeze in, she would subtly shift so she could keep her spot next to you.

When you were out with some of the girls, they noticed that Viv would place her hand on your arm or leg casually, like it was the most normal thing ever. It might be a normal thing for most people, but for you it wasn’t.

The girls had never seen you let anyone get so close to you, and they kept being amazed. They couldn’t wrap their head around the fact that you let Viv be so clingy, while usually you didn’t even like when people touched you in general. Were you just letting it happen because you didn’t want to make Viv feel bad? Or were you enjoying it as much as she was?

It was the first movie night since Viv joined, that someone decided to voice their thoughts. The movie started and to no one's surprise, Viv sat down next to you. It didn’t take long for her to get comfortable and cuddle into your side, her legs resting on yours.

About halfway through the movie, you got a call. “Sorry, I have to take this.” You whispered into Viv’s ear. Gently pulling your body away from underneath hers. Some of your teammates shot you questioning looks. “It’s okay, just keep playing the movie. I’ll be right back.”

You moved into the hallway of Jill’s apartment, closing the door behind you to block the noise that was coming from the living room before you picked up the phone.

Viv looked after you, sad to have lost the comfort that you were giving her. Alanna noticed the longing looks she was sending to the door. “Viv, do you really think she likes that you're so clingy?" The question came out rougher than intended, but Alanna went with it anyway.

Her head turned to Alanna and the rest of the girls. “Yeah, why wouldn’t she?” Viv asked with her brow slightly furrowed. Surely if you didn’t like her doing so, you would have told her by now.

The movie was paused and all attention was on your conversation now. “Well, it’s just that I’ve never seen her be touchy with anyone. In fact I’ve seen her push people off or tell them off when they’re touching her for too long.”

Some of the girls chuckled, and Lauren added, “It’s commonly known that she doesn’t like it when people touch her.” A statement that came with a few nods from the rest of the girls.

Before you could say anything, Jill jumped in. “Yeah, well you guys don’t know y/n outside of City. I grew up with those two, they’ve always been like this.”

Kerstin build up Jill’s point more. “Literally. When I joined them at the national team, I for real thought they were dating.”

Viv’s cheeks turn red at Kerstin’s words, peaking the interest of the team even further than the conversation about if you liked the clinginess or not.

You returned to the living room and all eyes were on you. It felt a little uneasy, so you quickly sat down next to Viv again. But instead of her leaning into your side like she usually did, she kept sitting up straight. It looked like she was actively making sure that she wasn’t touching you.

The whole situation felt awkward. The movie paused, and all eyes on you. Well, all eyes except Viv’s, who seemed to be ignoring you at all costs. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

Jill exchanged a quick look with Alanne before speaking up, deciding it was best if she took the lead in answering. “We were just talking about how close you and Viv are. Nothing bad!”

Your eyes narrowed at the addition of the ‘nothing bad’. No one ever added that when that was the case.

"Right," Lauren added, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably. "We were just saying it’s surprising—since you’re not usually, you know, touchy with anyone."

You look between them, a frown forming on your face. “Okay, and?” You didn’t like when people analysed you in the first place, but why did they have to bring Viv into it?

“Well,” Alanna spoke up after the rest of the team seemed to hesitate. “we were wondering if you’re actually okay with it. You don’t really let people touch you ever. But Jill said you two have been this way for ages, and that’s kind of where the conversation ended.”

Viv’s posture and refusal to meet your eye, suddenly made sense. They had said something to make her doubt herself, or even worse make her doubt you and your actions.

“Seriously?” You snap at them, feeling the anger boil inside your chest. “Don’t you have something better to do than analyse who I let into my personal space?”

The team looked taken back, not expecting your anger. You realised it had come out sharper than intended, so after taking a deep breath, you softened your tone. “Look, I know I’m not the most affectionate person, but it’s Viv. I don’t mind Viv being clingy. And if you think for a second that I would let anyone do anything that I didn’t want, you don’t know me at all.”

The team knew very well that you knew you would stand your ground and not let anyone walk over you, so they should’ve realised that you would’ve also not let Viv do something you didn’t like.

Finally Viv looked up at you, her fingers still fidgeting with the sleeves of her hoodie. “You really don’t mind?”

You shake your head and reach for her hand. “No, not at all. I like it even.” With a gentle tug at her hand, you pull her back into your side.

The rest of the girls kept watching you, as you pulled Viv closer and wrapped your arm around her. “Can we please move on and continue watching this movie?”

Viv lightly chuckled at the girls mumbling their sorry’s as they turned back to the TV. You squeeze her a little tighter. “Don’t let them get to your head. If you ever question something, please just come to me.” She nodded her head, and got comfortable again.

-----

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#pockets 5k celebration #vivianne miedema #viv miedema #vivianne miedema x reader #manchester city women #manchester city wfc #man city women #man city wfc #mcwfc #nedwnt #nedwnt x reader #oranjeleeuwinnen #oranje leeuwinnen #woso #woso x reader

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calypso-rt · 1 day ago

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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ farmer's market ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

fluff

jus a little drabble...

The sun was warm and golden, casting a glow over the bustling rows of stalls at the farmer’s market. You were practically skipping beside Rafe, his hand snug in yours, as you took in the colors and smells: fresh flowers, baby goats, and of course, produce as far as the eye could see.

“Alright, alright,” Rafe said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watched your wide-eyed excitement. “I get it now. This is what all the hints were about.”

You glanced up at him innocently, though the grin tugging at your lips gave you away. “What hints?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawled, squeezing your hand lightly as he dodged a stroller rolling past. “Maybe the fact that you left a farmer’s market flyer on the fridge…for two weeks straight.”

“I thought it looked nice there.”

“And the time you said, ‘I don’t know why some people don’t appreciate strawberries more,’ while staring directly at me over breakfast?”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing. “Maybe I was just making conversation.”

“And let’s not forget,” he continued, his tone mock serious now, “when you literally changed my phone wallpaper to that picture of strawberries you found on Pinterest.”

You finally burst into laughter, leaning into him as you tried to defend yourself. “Okay, maybe I was subtly suggesting that we come here. But you have to admit it’s amazing!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin as he glanced down at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute, y/n. Otherwise, I might’ve been annoyed.”

You stopped in front of a stall overflowing with strawberries so red and glossy they looked like they belonged in a painting. Your hand slipped from Rafe’s as you stepped closer, practically glowing with excitement.

“Oh my god, Rafe,” you said, your voice practically reverent. “Look at these strawberries.”

Rafe came up beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts as he tilted his head to look at them. “They’re strawberries,” he said, deadpan. “They look the same as the ones in the store.”

You turned to him with a look of pure betrayal. “Take that back.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “No.”

You picked up a basket and held it out to him dramatically. “If you don’t buy these for me right now, I will-”

“Will what?” he challenged, leaning a little closer with that smug smile of his.

“Cry,” you said, completely straight-faced.

Rafe barked out a laugh, already pulling out his wallet. “Alright, alright. You win. I’ll buy you the world’s most magical strawberries.”

As he handed the vendor a bill, he turned back to you with a playful smirk. “You’d think I just bought you a diamond ring or something.”

“These are better,” you teased, biting into one immediately. When the juice dripped onto your fingers, Rafe caught your wrist, gently swiping his thumb across the sticky mess.

“See? And you said they weren’t special,” you murmured, grinning as he brought his thumb to his mouth with an exaggerated, thoughtful look.

“Yeah, okay,” he admitted, his voice softer now as he looked at you. “Maybe they’re a little special. But only because you’re enjoying them so much.”

You smiled up at him, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. “Told you.”

As you walked through the rest of the market, Rafe carried the basket of strawberries like it was priceless treasure.

You were too busy admiring the stalls to notice, your denim overalls swaying slightly as you walked, the pockets stuffed with random finds: a flower Rafe had picked for you earlier, a business card from a honey stand, and a handful of free samples. Your white Converse were already a bit dusty from the uneven ground, but you didn’t care.

Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, softening as he caught you twirling a little when the breeze picked up. “You know,” he said, his voice just loud enough to catch your attention, “you might be the cutest thing here, and we’re surrounded by baby goats.”

You turned to him, hands on your hips, a teasing glint in your eyes. “You think I’m cuter than baby goats?”

“Obviously,” he said, stepping closer and slipping an arm around your waist. He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Though you’re definitely more high-maintenance.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest. “Says the guy who ate three of my strawberries while I wasn’t looking.”

Rafe grinned, completely unrepentant. “They’re a tax. Boyfriend privileges. You should’ve read the fine print.”

“Fine print? You mean that time you scribbled ‘property of Rafe Cameron’ in my notebook?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

He tilted his head, feigning thought. “I was being romantic.”

“You were being ridiculous,” you said, though your laughter betrayed you.

Rafe shrugged with a grin, brushing a kiss to your cheek as he teased, “Ridiculous, romantic...same difference, babe.”

a/n: inspired by my obsession w/ farmers markets

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x y/n

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ktownshizzle · 2 days ago

Text

A Christmas Encore | Part 2 of 2

Part of A Holly, Jolly Holiday with Min Yun-Kay collab with @yooglefics

✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: You never thought you’d see Min Yoongi again, not in this lifetime, not in this place. He left years ago with big dreams and bigger talent, trading snow-covered Seollim Hollow for the city lights of Seoul. But now, with the cultural center—the heart of your hometown—on the verge of being sold to a soulless corporation, you’ll do anything to save it.

When Yoongi appears on your doorstep, it feels like a miracle wrapped in regret. But as the two of you work together to save the center, old promises resurface, along with feelings you thought you’d left behind. Can you trust someone who was never meant to stay? Or will you just get hurt again?

✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Childhood Friends to Kinda Lovers to Kinda Strangers to Friends to Lovers (WHAT?! Yeah I got dizzy too) Second chances basically, Fluff, Smut, Mild Angst, Very Hallmark

✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ only. Cheesy, sometimes theatrical dialogue (just roll with it please), Christmas cliches, Yoongi at the Christmas concert is this right here), mild angst, cursing, minor mention of the pandemic, penetrative sex (wrap it before you tap it!), Yoongi's company/job is vague (it's fine!), did I say cheesy??

✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: ~7k

✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting Date: January 13, 2025

✎ ˎˊ˗ Notes: Hello ho ho. Sorry it took a while to get this out! I was being a little scrooge by the end of this (who knew Christmas fics can be super challenging?) I do hope you enjoy part 2 of my little Hallmark-inspired Holiday gift. Enjoy! 🫶🏼🎉

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

Yoongi doesn’t make a big deal out of your first date, but it still feels perfect. He takes you to a quiet café just outside town, the kind of place you’d never think to visit but where the coffee is rich and the pastries are warm.

The conversation comes easy—too easy, maybe. You laugh more than you have in weeks, just like old times. As you talk about the coming concert, an idea pops in your head. It’s not that serious, if anything, you just want to tease him a bit. “Maybe you and Hobi should do a breakdance routine at the show!”

He slurps the final dredges of his coffee, blinks up once, before blatantly ignoring you.

“Oh, come on, you really don’t miss breakdancing?” you try again.

“I don’t miss it. Do you?” He raises a brow.

“Miss what?”

“Miss him.”

Suddenly, you’re the Cheshire cat in Alice in Wonderland. “Oh, Yoongi…”

He averts his gaze, lip curving in the barest of ways before he looks down, poking the base of his glass with his straw. He’s a little embarrassed.

You sigh, endeared to no end as you see the tips of his ears growing red by the second. You decide to take him out of his misery. “No, Yoongi, I do not miss Hoseok that way. We’re really just friends.”

Yoongi groans, slouching back in his chair, and, not gonna lie, it makes you feel some typa way.

You wonder if he sees you now as some homie hopper slash town harlot, which fuck him if does so you ask. “Does it really bother you?”

Probably sensing the weight in your voice, he leans forward quickly and takes both your hands to reassure you. “Fuck, no. I’m just… shit I’m so bad at this.”

“At what?”

“You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You shrug.

Yoongi huffs a laugh, shaking his head as he leans back, but his gaze lingers on you, his expression softening. “I’m glad we’re finally doing this.”

“Yeah, it took us only all of a decade and a half,” you roll your eyes. “A literal pandemic had to happen.”

He’s quiet for a moment, looking at you again with his piercing stare—apologetic, maybe. “I’m not too late, right?”

You think you might just melt if it wasn’t below zero outside.

When Yoongi invites you back to his parents’ house that night, you don’t hesitate.

You head straight to his room and it instantly feels smaller than you remember, even if you were just there weeks ago. But it’s still so homey and familiar, full of little remnants of the boy you used to know—the boy you loved before you knew what it meant to really love someone.

And then he kisses you again, over and over, against the poster-covered wooden door, and all the years you spent apart fall away like snowflakes dissolving against your skin.

The way you make your way back to each other is slow and careful, but it doesn’t take long for the tension that’s been building for weeks to snap. His hands are warm against your skin, his lips soft and insistent, and when he pulls you onto the bed, it’s with a gentleness that leaves you breathless.

He sits by the headboard, guiding you towards his lap. He bites his lip as you situate yourself over him, grunting when you make contact against his crotch.

“Is Teenage Yoongi losing his mind right now?” You joke lightly, straddling his hips as you start unbuttoning your blouse, revealing your red lace bra.

He growls, actually growls. “Who cares about that loser,” he pulls you to capture your bottom lip while you shrug your blouse off. “Present Yoongi is so fucking hard right now, do somethin’ bout it…”

“Ohhh shit, Present Yoongi gets to make demands?” You plant both palms against his (apparently) really toned chest. Who knew?

“Present Yoongi hopes you’d do something about it,” he amends, taking one of your hands to kiss the inside of your wrist, once, twice, then leads your hand where your bodies are connecting.

He was not lying. In fact he may even be underselling it because while you cannot wrap your head around his sheer solidness, you certainly want to wrap your mouth around it. Shit.

You clamber off him, taking him by surprise, and he looks like you slapped him across the face.

“Relax, I got you, baby,” you say giggling as you guide his legs to swing over the side of the bed. “Go on, take that off,” you gesture to his pants while you peel yours off with a shimmy. And when he sees that all that’s left is the matching lace panty, his clothes immediately fly off to join the rest of yours.

The sight of his cock leaves your mouth watering, and you sink to your knees without further ado. You grasp his thick, velvety shaft, pumping lightly before guiding the tip towards the warmth of your mouth. You suck on the head once like a lollipop, releasing it with a tiny pop, repeating it as your eyes lock on him.

“Shit, I knew you’d look good on your knees,” he goads, biting his thumbnail with a smirk playing in his lips.

You decide you wanna erase the cocky grin on his face. So you draw him in quickly until he hits the back of your throat, the skin of your lips almost splitting from the sudden stretch. He stutters. You let drool coat his warm cock as your tongue glides up.

His deep, gravelly fuck, baby spurs you on, but also makes your basement gush. His voice is just… Ugh. You’ll deal with your own needs later, because you are on a mission.

You suck him like you’ve got a point to prove. Like he shouldn’t have left you all those years ago. Like he should’ve parked his ass right here and maybe you could’ve given it to him every damn night. Just like this.

When you hear the shortness of his breath, you know he’s really getting to it. So you suck him so damn good he’s left wondering how you got that good.

“A-a-ahh, hold up,” he stammers, stopping your movements with a gentle pull of your hair.

You sit on the balls of your feet, wiping your chin with the back of your palm. It’s your turn to have a cocky grin.

“You…” he shakes his head, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “My turn.”

He yanks you from the floor and throws you into the bed. And the next thing you know your panties are almost ripped from your legs and you’re spread open on top of his navy duvet like a Sunday feast.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, nosing your pussy gingerly, before giving it a whiff. “Fuck you smell so good.”

“Yoongi,” you squirm, propping your upper body with your elbows to watch the debauchery unfold. Or at least you hope so, but it seems like he wants to make you beg for it with the way he's leisurely blowing air across your damp skin.

“Please…” you beg, body tingling with desire.

“I’ve thought about this, you know,” Yoongi says looking up at you, before licking a broad stripe across your cunt. “A lot.” He does it again, tongue digging a little deeper to flick against your clitoris.

“Shit,” you tip your head back, already in a haze of lust. “Me too…”

“Really?” He shifts his position, then runs his knuckles up and down your glistening folds, each joint nudging your clit as it glides.

A cold shiver travels down your spine. “Oh god yes…”

“How are you already this wet?” he chuckles, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs, pulling your leg up one shoulder.

“Yoongi,” you plead. “I didn’t tease…”

“Liar,” he says with a sinister grin, now toying with your hole with his index finger and looping your slick around like he has nothing better to do.

What in fresh hell is he talking about? And also, goddamit you need him inside you literally yesterday and he's still clowning around.

“I didn't tease you…” You whine, needy.

“Oh, but you did,” he mumbles against your skin, biting the soft flesh so close to your mound before laving it with his tongue. “Made me think you had a boyfriend, when all along, I could’ve given you this...”

You gasp as he inserts his finger inside you and already you clench around the lone intrusion.

“And this,” he adds another.

You don't even realize you're bucking your hips up until he guides you back down with an infuriating smile. “Easy, baby, we got all night.”

“But, your cock. Need it…”

“Maybe. You gon’ be a good girl for me?”

You nod. Yes, you want to be his good girl.

Finally he gives you mercy, and his mouth connects with your clit and sucks and you feel like heaven. Two fingers slide in and out of you in practiced strokes. You're already so wound up, it doesn't take long for you to kiss euphoria.

“Feels so good, Yoon…” You fist his sheets, back arching up, as you feel your demise fast approaching. He notices.

“Let go, baby.” he says, before the furious lashing of his tongue resumes against your nub.

Keeping the pace steady, he curls his fingers just slightly, allowing the pads to massage your walls until he finds the one spot that–

Fuck.

Light bursts behind your lids as you come, fast, hard, loud with a prolonged moan of his name.

Your back meets the bed’s plush as your orgasm washes over you. But before you come down, you feel a fresh surge of bliss as Yoongi takes a nipple inside his mouth, giving it tiny nibbles.

Your free arm reaches for his cock. He lifts his hip up slightly, so you can give it a few lazy strokes.

Before long, he shifts completely, leaning over you, his hair brushing against your forehead in feathery strokes. The ache inside you both lingers, unsated, but the world seems to slow around you. There’s a tenderness in the way he moves—his lips tracing a delicate path along your face. He presses soft kisses to your eyelids, your cheek, and the curve of your jaw, each one deliberate, each one unraveling you a little more.

“You’re still as beautiful as I remember,” he says before meeting your mouth for a kiss so sweet, your head is in the clouds again. “Do you still hate me, baby?”

You kiss him back, your reply coming in breathy cadences as your lips melt against each other. “I… don’t think… I ever could.”

And it’s true, wrapped around each other like this, the pains of the past slowly ebb away.

You feel a small smile on his lips, maybe a hint of relief. His tongue pushes in yours as you feel his cock rubbing up against your pussy lips, both of you breathing heavily with the delicious friction. He ruts up a few more times before you feel his blunt tip breaching your entrance, not going all the way in but teasing it in a way that leaves you wanting more, more, more and now.

“Get in me, Yoon. Want it…”

His reply is the push of this thick cock inside you, slow and slick, before he bottoms out with a grunt. You keen, your body bowing towards him on instinct, legs wrapping against his back.

He fills you up, wholly and completely, with every smooth stroke, your walls flutter around his girth and your heart is thumping against your ribcage, but you know it’s not just the ecstasy from your impending release. It’s from the way your eyes meet and you feel like you’re drowning again. Just like you did the first time. And you don’t ever want to come up for air.

“I’m so close…” your voice is strangled when you say it, your fingers clinging to his shoulders for dear life.

His mouth finds that sensitive spot under your ear, licking it, encouraging you to take it with whispers you can’t decipher. Your brain is so fucking empty, and all you know is every fibre of your being is submitting to him at this very moment.

“You feel amazing, fuck,” he grunts, tone as desperate as you are. “You gonna cream for me again, huh?” His thrusts get faster, deeper and it feels like your about to tip over the edge.

“Ah– baby, I’m coming…” Your entire body quivers against him as intense pleasure racks your body.

The rest is a blur as your eyes flutter shut, and Yoongi groans as he spills his seed against your clammy skin, hot liquid pooling on the inside of your thigh.

Later, after he cleans you up and gives you the cuddles your tired body craves for, you’re tangled together in the sheets. You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. You’re hit with de ja vu.

“Don’t leave,” you whisper.

Yoongi’s arms tighten around you, his lips brushing lightly against your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere,” he murmurs.

This time, you believe him with all your heart.

The days that follow feel like they belong to someone else. Someone living a life where everything falls perfectly into place—where the person they once thought they’d lost forever suddenly fits back into their world like they’d never been gone.

The tree lot smells like pine and cold, sharp winter air. You rub your hands together to keep them warm, your breath fogging in front of you as Yoongi stands a few steps away, examining a tree with a furrowed brow.

“This one’s perfect,” you say, pointing to the lush, symmetrical pine beside him. The store owner even added some gold tinsel on it to dress it up for buyers, making it look super sunshine-y and brilliant.

He turns, glancing at the tree. “It’s too… obvious,” he says, his lips twitching. “Look at it. It’s trying too hard.”

You laugh. “How can a tree try too hard?”

“It’s trying too hard to make you take them home,” Yoongi says, moving down the row. He stops in front of a shorter, slightly scraggly tree, with whitish branches and paler pine needles. “This one’s got character.”

“It’s literally lopsided… and so pale…”

“It’s cool,” he counters, brushing snow off one of the branches. Strangely, they even have the same height. “This is the underdog tree. You should root for it.”

You cross your arms, pretending to consider. “Or… we could go with a tree that doesn’t look like it fought a bear and lost.”

Yoongi looks back at you, his dark eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Nah, you’ve got zero vision.”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of vision,” you retort, stepping closer. “You’re the one who—”

Before you can finish, he shakes a branch, sending a spray of snow directly onto your face.

“Yoongi!” you shout, jumping back and wiping at your eye, careful not to smudge your perfectly drawn eyeliner.

He smirks, unapologetic. “Underdog tree got bite.”

Later, back at your place, the tree you agreed on stands in your living room. When it’s finally lit, glowing softly in the corner of the room, you look over at Yoongi and find him watching you, his face softened by the light.

“What?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

He shrugs, his gaze lingering. “Nothing.”

Your eyes move towards the tinsel and the lights, “Underdog tree does have character.”

“I fuckin’ told you.” He grabs you from behind, excited that you finally saw his vision, and plants several kisses on your cheek.

“This is a terrible idea,” you mutter, gripping the railing like your life depends on it.

“You’ll be fine,” Yoongi says, already gliding onto the ice with an infuriating amount of ease. “Just let go of the railing. You’re overthinking it.”

“Overthinking it?!” you sputter, inching forward like a baby deer learning to walk. “This isn’t natural. People weren’t meant to stand on blades and slide around!”

Yoongi smirks, skating backward so he can face you, his movements smooth and effortless. “Aren’t you the one who’s lived here forever? Shouldn’t you be the pro?”

You shoot him a glare, your knees wobbling. “Skating and living in Seollim Hollow are not the same thing.”

“Sure they aren’t,” he teases, extending a hand toward you. “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”

You eye his outstretched hand with suspicion. “If I fall, I’m taking you with me.”

“Deal.”

Reluctantly, you release your death grip on the railing and grab his hand. The ice feels impossibly slippery beneath your feet, and your balance shifts precariously as you stumble forward.

“Whoa—” Yoongi steadies you, his grip firm. “You really suck at this, still.”

“I told you, ughhhh,” you grumble, trying not to panic as he starts pulling you along.

“You just need to loosen up,” he says, clearly holding back a laugh. “Stop thinking so much.”

“I’m going to die,” you say flatly as your skates skid in opposite directions.

“Not on my watch.”

Yoongi’s hand tightens around yours as he leads you into the center of the rink. Despite your protests, he doesn’t let go, guiding you with patience as you wobble and shriek your way through your first lap. By the time you’ve gone around twice, you’re still far from graceful, but at least you’re no longer clinging to him for dear life. -ish.

“You’re getting the hang of it.”

“No thanks to you,” you retort.

“The fuck?” he says, letting go of you abruptly and you shriek, flailing.

But he captures you effortlessly and spins you around and suddenly you’re hugging in the middle of the rink. You’re still catching your breath when you look up at him, then he leans down and kisses you.

“Is this some kind of fantasy you’re trying to fulfill, Min Yoongi?”

“I’m just trying to make up for lost time.” Then, he leans in again and from the corner of your eye you spot a mom shielding her son from the sight of you and Yoongi, before your eyes flutter shut.

“I forgot you always liked to yap during movies,” Yoongi says, mouth forming a straight line.

“This movie’s so boring,” you reply, gesturing at the screen. “How can you be into this? It’s so… predictable.”

“That’s the point,” he says, leaning back into the couch. “Christmas movies are supposed to be predictable.”

Despite your apprehension, you find yourself sinking deeper into the couch, tolerating the movie and before you know it you’re engrossed with the plot, because, umm, it’s actually so good?!

“Omo! He came back for—” you turn to him and well, he’s fallen asleep, like the bobblehead toy on your car’s dash.

You move his head gently against your shoulder, his breath evening out. For a moment, you consider waking him, but instead, you let yourself relax, leaning slightly into his warmth.

From this view you can see his long lashes, the gentle slope of his nose, the soft curve of his lips and you’re suddenly flooded with emotions that you thought you buried so long ago. Maybe it’s meant to be this time. So you allow yourself to quietly admit it.

“I love you,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you.

The snow crunches softly beneath your boots as the two of you walk side by side, the cold air nipping at your cheeks. The town is quiet at this hour, the streets lit by the faint glow of holiday lights, and for a while, neither of you says anything.

“I used to hate this,” Yoongi says suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Hate what?”

“Winter,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. “The cold. The snow. I felt… stuck. Like nothing ever changed.”

You glance at him, your breath fogging in the air. “And now?”

He shrugs, his gaze fixed on the snowflakes drifting lazily from the sky. “It doesn’t feel so bad anymore.”

The words are simple, quiet, but they satisfy you in a way you don’t expect.

At some point, Yoongi bends down and scoops up a handful of snow, tossing it lightly at your shoulder.

“Fuck! Did you just—”

“Snowball fight?” he interrupts, smirking.

You retaliate immediately, grabbing snow and throwing it at him with no hesitation. The two of you dissolve into laughter, dodging and weaving through the empty street until you’re both breathless and covered in snow.

“Truce,” Yoongi says, holding up his hands.

“Fine,” you reply, grinning as you catch your breath.

For a moment, you just stand there, the snow falling softly around you. Yoongi’s eyes linger on yours, his expression softer now, and your heart stumbles at the way he looks at you—like he’s trying to memorize this moment.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“For what?”

“For this,” he murmurs, gesturing around him. “For reminding me why I came back.”

You and Yoongi fall into an easy rhythm, one that feels almost too good to be true. Mornings at the cultural center turn into afternoons spent working side by side—him scribbling notes onto sheet music while you answer emails and manage ticket sales. Sometimes, you’ll both stop to grab dinner at the little diner down the street or head back to your place where you cook something simple while he steals pieces of food off your cutting board.

Nights are quieter. Softer. When the world feels too still, Yoongi finds his way to your side—whether it’s a late phone call or the two of you under your duvet.

You don’t talk about what happens next. You don’t ask if he’ll stay when the concert is over, and he doesn’t offer to explain.

The night of the concert is perfect.

The performers are brilliant—the children’s choir sings their hearts out, the folk band gets the crowd clapping, and the dancers earn a standing ovation. Yoongi’s arrangements tie everything together seamlessly, each note lifting the room higher and higher until it feels like the entire town is glowing.

Before he goes on stage, Yoongi gives you a mini heart attack. He tells you that he’s playing a different piece. Trust me, he says.

You don’t say much after, because while you don’t like to be blindsided for an important night like this, you also trust his judgment.

And when Yoongi takes the stage, sitting at the piano under the soft glow of the stage lights, you think you might actually cry. He adjusts the mic, shakes his newly dyed black hair, and starts to play. It’s a song you’ve never heard before—something gentle and wistful, the kind of melody that wraps itself around you like a memory. You watch his hands move across the keys, effortless and sure, his expression soft with focus, and you realize you’ve never seen him look more himself than he does in this moment.

Suddenly Jungkook’s angelic vocals slide seamlessly through the melody, “Was it honestly the best…”

For the first time in years, you let yourself hope that the best is yet to come.

When the concert ends and the crowd finally clears, you and your team stay late, cleaning up the venue, storing props, and celebrating quietly with a bottle of champagne Jimin “borrowed” from the local bar. Yoongi stays, too, quietly helping to pack away cables and lights while Jungkook regales the group with exaggerated stories about the night’s performances.

It’s not until the clock hits two in the morning that you’re finally back home, exhausted but still buzzing with the afterglow of the show.

When you wake the next morning, it feels like the entire world is holding its breath. Today is the day. Today, you’ll know if it was enough.

The cultural center feels too quiet as you sit at your desk, staring at the final numbers. Your chest feels tight, the numbers swimming on the page no matter how many times you try to tally them.

You didn’t raise enough. You’re 10 per cent short.

The realization hits like a punch to the gut, and you have to close your eyes for a moment to steady yourself. It’s so close—painfully close—but it’s not enough. And you ran out of time.

You swallow the lump in your throat and grab your coat.

Mr. Choi doesn’t look surprised when you tell him.

“You did good,” he says, though his voice is heavy with finality. “But it’s not enough to match their offer. I’m sorry.”

“There has to be another way,” you insist, the desperation creeping into your voice. “What if I talk to the buyer? What if they’ll accept—”

He sighs, shaking his head. “You can try,” he says reluctantly. “The buyer’s representative is still in town.”

Your heart skips. “Who is it?”

He flips through a file on his desk, his tone casual as he reads the document, “Min Yoongi.”

The room tilts. You stare at him, uncomprehending. “Who?”

“Min Yoongi,” he repeats, glancing up at you. “He’s the representative for the corporation looking to buy the property. I can give you his e-mail address…”

The words hit you like ice water, each one sinking deeper until you can’t breathe. Yoongi.

It doesn’t make sense. How could he—?

Why would he—?

You don’t even remember leaving the municipal office. You don’t remember driving to Yoongi’s house, pounding on the door.

“Yoongi.”

“Hey,” he starts, his expression shifting when he sees your face. “What’s—”

“Don’t,” you cut him off, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like everything’s fine. Just tell me the truth, Yoongi. Were you ever going to tell me you’re the buyer?”

The color drains from his face. “You found out.”

“That’s all you have to say?” you snap, your chest tightening as the hurt spills out of you. “You fucking lied to me, Yoongi. This whole time—why? Why would you let me fight for this place if you were just going to take it away?”

“I wasn’t going to take it away,” he says quickly, his voice strained. “Not anymore.”

You stare at him, disbelief crashing into you. “What does that even mean?”

Yoongi exhales, running a hand through his hair. “It means I didn’t know what this place still meant to you when I came back. I thought it was just another deal. Another property my company wanted to acquire.”

“And when you did know?” Your voice cracks, your anger laced with pain. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Yoongi hesitates, his hands curling into fists. “Because I didn’t want to ruin everything.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “Well, congratulations. You ruined it anyway.”

“Stop,” he says softly, reaching out, but you step back. “Let me finish.”

“No.” you say. “This,” gesturing to him and you, “is finished.”

The next few days are a blur of misery. The maknaes try to distract you, but nothing works. Yoongi’s absence feels like a physical thing—an ache that sits heavy in your chest no matter what you do.

The memory of his voice echoes in your mind, soft and broken, but it only makes the pain in your heart worse.

When you hear from his mother that he’s left town, it shouldn’t surprise you. Of course he’s gone. That’s what Yoongi does.

But somehow, it hurts more this time.

Christmas Day comes and goes.

For the first time in forever, you don’t get a post card from Yoongi.

The glow from your phone illuminates the room as the opening chords of Last Christmas begin to play through your Bluetooth speaker. You’re on your bed, surrounded by chaos—crumpled tissues, a mostly empty tub of ice cream balanced precariously on your thigh, and the infamous box of postcards from Yoongi spilled across your sheets.

The postcards feel heavier than they should, each one like a tiny punch to the chest. You pick one up at random—a simple postcard of a Seoul skyline dusted with snow. Yoongi’s neat handwriting is scrawled on the back: Merry Christmas. Hope you’re staying warm.

Snot drips onto the edge of the card, and you yelp, scrambling to wipe it off. “Oh my God, I’ve hit rock bottom,” you groan, tossing the tissue into the general direction of the trash can but missing entirely.

You glance at the box again, and the next card catches your eye. You sniffle harder, and your vision blurs again.

Your eyes land on one of the Polaroids from the box, its edges slightly bent from years of flipping through them. It’s an old selfie Yoongi sent—his mint green hair poking out from under a beanie, but his sharp eyes and stupidly pretty smirk still visible. “I hate you,” you mumble, though the ache in your chest says otherwise.

You grab a Sharpie from your nightstand and draw devil horns sprouting from his head, a dramatic handlebar mustache, and, for good measure, a pitchfork in the corner.

Three sharp knocks sound at the door, startling you. You quickly swipe at your face, sitting up. “Who is it?”

“It’s me,” Hoseok’s voice calls through the door.

Oh no. You glance at the mess around you—the tissues, the ice cream, the pile of Yoongi memorabilia that screams pathetic. “Go away, Hobi! I’m fine.”

The door creaks open anyway, and Hoseok steps in, his ever-present sunshine energy cutting through the gloom of your room. You forget he knows where the spare key is hidden.

He takes one look at you—puffy eyes, snotty tissues, Wham still crooning in the background—and doesn’t bother to hide his grin. “Wow. This is a whole ass vibe.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, tossing a pillow weakly in his direction.

He catches it easily, stepping further into the room. His eyes fall on the postcards scattered across the bed, and his teasing expression softens. “So it’s true, then.”

You blink. “What’s true?”

Hoseok sets the pillow down and walks over, sitting on the edge of your bed. He doesn’t say anything right away, just glances at the Polaroid still clutched in your hand. “I’m not even gonna ask about that. Yoongi told me what happened.”

Your stomach twists, embarrassment rising like a tidal wave. “Great. Now everyone knows how much of an idiot I am.”

“Hey,” he says gently, nudging your shoulder. “You’re not an idiot. Yoongi’s the idiot.”

That gets a weak laugh out of you, and Hoseok’s smile widens. He leans in, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. It’s so warm, so comforting, that you let yourself melt into it, burying your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I know how much he means to you.”

You sniffle. “Why do you sound like he’s dead?”

Hoseok laughs, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Because you’re acting like it.”

“Did he send you here?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“No,” Hoseok says quickly. “But he… he wants you to hear him out. He messed up, yeah, but…” He glances at the postcards again. “You guys are made for each other. That’s obvious. Even to a third party like me.”

You groan, throwing yourself back onto the bed dramatically. “It’s not that simple, Hobi.”

“Nothing about love is simple,” he says, lying down beside you. His gaze moves to the ceiling as he continues. “And honestly? You two are the most disgustingly in love people I’ve ever seen.”

Your head snaps toward him. “We are not—”

“Oh, really?” Hoseok interrupts, his grin returning. “Because I saw you and Yoongi making out in the middle of the skating rink. Right there. In public. In front of children.”

Your jaw drops. “You what?”

“Yeah. Had to shield my eyes from the sheer amount of PDA,” he teases. “I almost called it in as a public disturbance.”

You can’t help it—you laugh. A real, genuine laugh that feels like it breaks through the heaviness in your chest. “You’re so stupid.”

He glances at the mess on your bed one more time before standing. “Look, I’m not saying you have to forgive him right now. But at least let him explain. You deserve to know the truth.”

He pats your head lightly, like a parent soothing a child. “Now, go wash your face. You look like Mrs. Claus who failed a breathalyzer.”

“That’s a dumb joke!” You chuck a pillow at him again, but this time, you’re laughing as he dodges it and disappears out the door.

For the first time in days, you feel a little lighter.

When Mr. Choi calls you the next morning, you almost don’t pick up.

“The offer’s been retracted,” he says, his voice calm but tinged with disbelief. “The cultural center is safe.”

You blink, stunned. “What?”

“Not only that,” he continues, “but the previous buyer left a donation to help fund renovations. You can expand the center. Improve it.”

Your heart stops. You didn’t need to ask who.

You already know.

It’s New Year’s Eve. You don’t know why today of all days you finally get a grip on your emotions. You figure today is just as good as any other to do something crazy.

You clutch your phone in your hand, Yoongi’s name glaring up at you in your call history, unanswered. You don’t know what you’ll say when you find him, or if he’ll even want to see you, but you have to see him. You have to know why he did this—why he left, why he pulled out of the deal, why he did it all without saying a word.

The hours stretch long and thin, and by the time the bus pulls into the station in Seoul, the city is already blanketed in a soft layer of snow.

The snow falls softly around you as you stand in front of Yoongi’s apartment building (his eomma was more than willing to text the address), your breath clouding in the air. When he opens the door, his eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything—he just steps aside, letting you in.

“I heard what you did,” you say quietly, your voice trembling. “The center’s safe. You even donated to help renovate it.”

Yoongi exhales, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He looks at you, his dark eyes soft but unsteady, bags underneath it from many a sleepless night. “Because it was the right thing to do. And because I owed it to you—to the town—to make up for leaving the way I did.”

You shake your head, your chest tightening. “You didn’t owe me anything, Yoongi. You could’ve just told me.”

“I know,” he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. “But I didn’t know how to. And I was scared. Scared that if I told you, I’d ruin the one good thing I’ve had in years.”

“Yoongi…”

“I stayed quiet because I thought I could fix it,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I knew if I told you the truth, you’d hate me. And I didn’t want that—I couldn’t risk losing you again. So I started looking for another way. I’ve been talking to my company, trying to get them to pull out of the deal, to reallocate the funds to save the center instead.”

You blink, his words sinking in slowly. “You… what?”

“I’ve been trying to undo it,” he says, his dark eyes heavy with something you can’t quite name. “I tried to help in whatever way I could, because you—you deserve to win. You deserve to have that place. I just…” He exhales shakily. “I messed up.”

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, confusion swirling in your chest.

He takes a step closer, his gaze steady now. “I’m sorry. For everything—for leaving, for lying, for not trusting you enough to tell you the truth. I just…” He hesitates, his voice faltering.

“You didn’t have to leave,” you say, your voice trembling. “You didn’t have to run. I know I pushed you away when I found out that you were the buyer. But if you told it to me in the first place, I would’ve understood,” you admit, the words catching in your throat. “I would’ve believed you.”

Yoongi watches you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he takes another step forward, close enough now that you can smell the faint musk of his cologne.

“Would you have asked me to stay?” he murmurs.

You swallow hard, unable to look away. “Yes.”

The word hangs between you, suspended in the air, and something in Yoongi’s gaze softens.

“I’m here now,” he says quietly. “I’m not running. I’m not leaving. I don’t want to.”

He reaches up slowly, hesitantly, and brushes a snowflake from your cheek with the back of his knuckles. The touch is light, fleeting, but it sends warmth spreading through you, curling in your chest and settling deep in your bones.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You just stand there, inches apart. And then Yoongi leans in, closing the distance between you, and kisses you. Your lips slide against his, your hands curling into the front of his sweater as the rest of your worries fall away.

When you finally pull back, breathless and trembling, Yoongi rests his forehead lightly against yours, his hands still cradling your face. Before he can lean in again,

“Come home,” you whisper, the word escaping before you can stop it.

Yoongi looks at you with something so raw, so vulnerable, it takes your breath away. “Okay,” he says softly, his voice deep. “If you want me to, I will.”

You nod, your tears spilling over now. “I really do.”

“Good, because I’m out of a job and I need you to fund my unhealthy caffeine addiction.”

“What?”

“It’s ok, I’ve been thinking about it for years anyway.” He shrugs, the faintest hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “I came to Seoul for music, but somehow I got roped into the capitalism I’ve always hated. Moving back feels… right.”

Later, you find yourselves on his rooftop, bundled together under a fleece blanket as the fireworks light up the Han River below. You share his bougie white truffle parmesan & rosemary popcorn (it’s actually good, though) and a bottle of chardonnay. You lean against his shoulder, link your hands together, hearts full of the promise of a new beginning.

You settle in your seat as the bus begins its journey back to Seollim Hollow. Yoongi had to stay behind for a few days to tie up loose ends, but the promise of his return lingers like a heartbeat in your chest.

As the city fades into the distance, your phone buzzes with a new message.

Yoongi: Check your coat pocket

Intrigued, you reach inside, your fingers brushing against something small and stiff. When you pull it out, your breath catches.

It’s a postcard.

His handwriting is as familiar as ever, the letters neat but tilted just slightly to the left. This time, though, the message is different.

Not a simple Merry Christmas.

Not a quick Hope you’re well.

Not some generic line he thought you might want to hear.

This one has only three words.

I love you.

For a moment, all you can do is stare at the card, the edges soft from where it’s been handled. The words feel heavy, monumental, a promise etched onto paper.

You press the postcard to your chest, your eyes stinging as the bus carries you closer to home. Though, when you think about it, home feels like a person you just left in a high-rise in Hannam.

A week later, you find Yoongi standing on your doorstep, that gummy smile you love lighting up his face. His suitcase sits at his side, snowflakes caught in his hair, and he looks at you like you’re the answer to every question he’s ever asked.

“Hi,” he says softly, his voice warm despite the cold.

“Hi,” you say, leaning against the door frame.

And in that moment, you know—this is it. The chance to start over. The start of something real, something you both waited for, something you’ll build up piece by piece.

And finally, you’ll live a life you’ll both love.

Together.

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed my first Holiday fic ever. If it feels extra cheesy and sappy than my other stories, it’s Hallmark-inspired so it needed to be that way. 🙂 As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments section. A reblog would also be amazing!

Thank you so much for reading this you lovely, beautiful human xo

And I know it’s already been days since we kicked off 2025, but I hope you have had an amazing start to the year and the rest of the days are filled with love, laughs, and Bangtan! 💜✨

Permanent Taglist (Part 1)

@wonh0oe @hyukaluve @glossdebut @kiki-zb @kookiewithluv

@agustblog @maryhopemei @perfectiondazesworld @kimsaerom @kam9404

@00-sleepdontweep-00 @tea4sykes @mggv97 @marnz1990

@whydoeyecare @pastelmin @tarahardcore @minjenna @chimmchimmm

@aaclariww @mar-lo-pap @tinytan-gerine @vesperbells @butterymin

@eve1633455 @baechugff @lilkittenjenjen @wobblewobble822 @coffeedepressionsoup

@futuristicenemychaos @jadestonedaeho7 @granataepfelchen @whoa-jo @annyeongbitch7

@chimmisbae @sexytholland @idkjustlovingbts @kpophosblog @tinyelfperson

@yoongicatagenda @codeinebelle @parapiop7 @diame93 @janeelizabeth1216

@withmuchluv-tannie @abadiimm @angellekookie

The rest to follow in a reblog.

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torturedtypewritersdept · 2 days ago

Text

blue eyes + bruises - part one

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

—

Sarah doesn't have lunch often with her brother, but she does today, placing the responsibility of taking care of him on herself, as she always does. Her latest manifestation of this fact is you – her best friend since her college days. He doesn’t know it, but she’s coming to him with a proposition; your sweetness and his intelligence – she knows they’d meld together like a puzzle and that’s precisely why she’s set up a date between the two of you for this evening. She enters the hospital cafeteria slowly, spotting him from across the gigantic space. His shoulders are slumped and she clocks a limp in his step, instantly sure he’s been on his feet for far too long. She smiles softly as they lock eyes and notices his are far more sunken in than she’d like them to be; in fact, they almost resemble the dark black holes of a skull missing its skin and as he makes his way feverishly through the cafeteria line, she wonders if he’s okay.

“Rafe – you look like you haven’t eaten in six days.”

She scolded as the older Cameron made his way to the table and sat his tray down across from her.

“I eat.”

He grunted in response, rolling his blue orbs into the back of his head at her incessant need to pick him apart in the form of worry. This was why he didn’t return to North Carolina after college, after all. Though he couldn’t in part blame it all on his baby sister, the discontent of his father and the enthralling energy of the city had wooed him and his bride.

“Yeah, okay, hot shot.”

She replied, laughing, throwing a french fry in his direction.

“You’re gonna be mad but I've promised your hand to someone for the evening.”

She said, giggling.

“Dammit, Sarah!”

He replied, the huff that escaped like that of an agitated dog.

“Come on, big brother! Please – she’s my sweet friend from college and she’s nice and shy and she –”

“I don’t care. I’m not going.”

Rafe interjected aggressively.

“Well, too fucking bad. I already told her you agreed and I’d really hate it if you stood her up. It was like pulling teeth to get her to agree to even give you a chance.”

“Too. Fucking. Bad.”

He gritted out.

“No – don’t play with me, I know you. Rafe Cameron is a lot of things, but he isn’t cruel and it took a lot of convincing for her to come out anyways, so please.”

Squinting her eyes in annoyance and shaking her head, she waged her war with him blatantly, tired of his bullshit only five minutes into the conversation in only a way that he could ignite.

“Tell that to Molly. She thinks I am.”

He whispered.

“No she didn’t – doesn’t.”

She caught herself, two years later still not used to talking about her sister-in-law in past tense.

“Just go – please. Get out of this hospital and those fucking ugly scrubs.”

She pleaded, her soft blue eyes always something he had to give into.

“Fine, Sarah, I’ll fucking go.”

He growled, jerking his plate closer to him as he began munching on the chicken tenders that sat in front of him.

—

Rafe was dreading this date, he didn’t know you or what you were even like and let’s be honest, he hasn’t dated in literal years, hasn’t even given it a thought. After Molly departed from him, he ate, slept, and breathed life in the hospital, too afraid to be in his home alone – too afraid the silence and lack of love would swallow him home; death by a thousand cuts. He felt like that was probably normal for the situation he had found himself in; divorce in the form of death. He stared at himself in the mirror of the locker room, being sure he was ready as his hand tousled through his unruly hair.

“Sarah’s right – I do look like shit.”

He muttered, suddenly wondering what this unknown woman would think of him.

He made his way down the linoleum lined hallway and out of the hospital door a few moments later, the familiar red shine of ambulance lights just out of his peripheral and the screech of the alarm coming from the rig coming to a stop. He watched carefully as they pulled a young woman from the back, her limbs splinted and blood covering her. He wasn't sure what it was; fate or an uneasy stomach, these days he hardly had the capacity to tell the difference. But, whatever the force behind it, she pulled him toward her and as he got close, the date he had planned for suddenly slipped his mind.

—

Everything hurt – that was the first thing your brain registered as you pulled your eyes open, the sound of a siren and the beat of your heart blaring simultaneously in your ears. The siren was close, you could tell, but you seemed so distant from it at the same time, so far away and fleeting. You closed your eyes, the darkness overcoming you. It only felt like they had been closed for five seconds, but you were sure it had been longer as you heard the sound of a man’s voice and felt wind around you, signaling your brain that you were moving by the sound of rickety wheels beneath you. The man sounded handsome and kind, his voice deep as it bellowed in the air around you.

“What do we got?”

He asked with urgency, looking pointedly at the paramedics, a team of doctors surrounding him.

“25 year old female, car accident. She went through the windshield – crush injuries, concussion, internal bleeding – she’s barely hanging on.”

He gingerly nodded at the words of the paramedic and brought a pen light from his pocket, pulling your eyelids back and shining it into them. A groan escaped your lips at the intrusion.

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?”

His voice penetrated your ears and for some reason unbeknownst to you, your brain pulled your eyes open, fighting to get to whoever the voice belonged. As you took in the blue eyes that stood over you, you registered who the voice belonged to – sounds and words you could barely register coming from his mouth again.

“I’m Dr. Rafe Cameron, I’m gonna take care of you, okay?”

He spoke, sliding his hand in yours, giving you a kind smile.

“Can you squeeze my hand, for me?”

Your senses weren’t intact, numbness infiltrated your being but you could feel his calloused hand as it slipped into yours and with all the energy that remained in your body, you squeezed his hand weakly. He smiled – bright and breathtakingly beautiful, teeth so perfectly in line that you were sure he had orthodontic work at some point. You noticed the crinkles by his eyes as his lips parted and his lips turned up. You suddenly regretted not shaving your legs this morning, taking in his handsomely sculpted jaw as he turned his head sideways, stretching his hands across you. You were unsure what was happening until you felt him unhooking the straps that you now realized were draped across your body, securing you to the bed you laid on.

“Move her on three – one, two, three.”

He chanted out, voice bellowing as his words controlled the move of every person in the room. You weren’t sure what kind of doctor Rafe was, but you knew he was important, that he was a leader, as every nurse and bystander operated under his sole instruction. You closed your eyes as the hands of the people around you lifted you from one bed to another, the jostling of your body breaking through the heavy cloud of numbness and what started as a whimper but quickly turned into a full-fledged bloody murder scream escaped your lips.

“Easy, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”

His hands made their way to your hair, pushing the blood-stained strands away from your forehead. His touch was gentle and calming, you had never been touched by a doctor like this, you thought to yourself.

“R-Rafe?”

You croaked out, eyes pleading.

“Hmm?”

He questioned with all his attention on you. His blue eyes raked over your form, studying your face, taking in the distress and the pain that laced it.

“Gonna die?”

You questioned, mumbling, incoherently and before he could even respond your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your back arching off the bed as you your body shook into a fit of convulsions.

“She’s crashing!”

One of the nurses yelled out.

“We’ve got to get her to the OR now, get me a neuro consult and page Dr. Richardson, I have no doubt in my mind she’s hemorrhaging.”

As soon as he muttered out the words, Rafe was straddling you on the gurney, legs on either side of your hips as his palms laid flat against your chest, fingers interlocking with each other as he violently, urgently pressed up and down in an attempt to restart your heart.

“Not today, sweet girl. Not today.”

He whispered, continuing chest compressions as the nurses and doctors wheeled the gurney the two of you were on into the operating room.

—

masterlist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron prompt #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafecore #doctor!rafe #doctor!rafe cameron #doctor!rafe x reader #blue eyes + bruises

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loverboysturn · 3 days ago

Text

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ cinderella!reader and her besties discuss their opinions on the football team at lunch

note: this is not proofread!!! i wanted to introduce some of readers’s friendship group and give matt more of a mention into this au hehe :)

asks for this au are always open! find all popular!chris and cinderella!reader writings here and everything else for them here

the cafeteria had buzzed with the usual lunchtime chaos but it was finally starting to die down.

you were sat in your usual corner table with your three best friends, halfway through your lunches when suddenly the door to the cafeteria door bangs open, and a group of football players stroll in like they own the place.

they stroll in, tossing a football over the head of innocent students just trying to eat their lunches, laughing and joking loudly with one another, everyone making room for them as they make their way over to their usual table by the windows.

one of your friends breaks the silence at your table, “they think they’re so untouchable, like they’re so above everyone else, don’t they?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“i don’t get it, it’s like they don’t know how to be normal, everything is so over the top and loud with them” your other friend says, giving her opinion.

you shift in your seat, “they come in the diner after every practice a lot, they’re exactly the same as they are in here” you add. “some of them are kinda nice though, sometimes”

your first friend rolls her eyes, obviously not believing your last comment. “i couldn’t stand being popular like that, you know, like the way everyone talks about them and their business”

your other friend’s eyes widen and she bangs her hand on the table with excitement, like she’d forgotten to tell you all something. “oh my god” she whispers, “that reminds me, in maths this morning, everyone’s talking about how at some party over the weekend, matt sturniolo hooked up with one of the cheerleaders from the rival team were playing next week, but apparently, her boyfriend is the captain of the team. we should go to the game just to see the drama of it all unfold.”

you groan, a little disgusted by the team’s antics and her idea of going to a football game, you were kind of used to hearing them brag in the diner about things like this that they did but then your friend who hadn’t added anything yet to the conversation, usually the quieter of your group chimes in, “i think matt’s hot, is that bad?” she whispers to you all like she’s confessing something forbidden.

you and your other friends all look at each other then back to her, “wait, you think matt is hot?” your first friend who initiated the conversation says, raising an eyebrow with a smirk on her face. “i think nate’s the hottest, we sit next to each other in biology and he’s kinda chill i guess, chris is hot too but his ex girlfriend scares me, actually, the whole cheer team scare me.”

“how do you think i feel?” you say with a nervous laugh, “i have to serve them all in the diner, she gives me daggers when i hand chris his pancakes or a milkshake like she thinks i’m going to steal him off of her.”

“little does she know, you’re not interested in her precious football captain cause you have your own secret little lover” your friend teases you, poking you over the table. “which speaking of, are you any closer to knowing who he is?”

you shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but inside you’re torn. “i really don’t know.”

she grins at you, “isn’t it crazy that he could be literally anyone. he could be on the maths team, in the music club..” she whispers, looking over her shoulder to the window where the football team were sat and quickly turning back to you, “fuck, he could even be one of them, and you’ll never know if you don’t go and meet him at this party on friday.”

you laugh nervously, trying to brush the conversation off. your best friends innocent question causing a feeling of anxiety to bubble up in your chest.

you swallow down hard, trying to steady your breathing, but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“do you even want to know who he is?” she adds, staring at you, waiting for an answer, one you didn’t have for her.

you didn’t know, you had no idea.

and for the first time, you realise how terrified you are of the truth.

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graciedollie · 1 day ago

Note

Hii,can we get a masc!reader x ambessa I never see it it can be hcs or smut/fluff wtv you want lol

Ambessa Medarda x Masc!Reader Headcannons

Warnings: Nothing too major tbh, mention lex sesbian, fingering, cunnilingus, face-sitting, and scissoring :3

A/N: I’m not too good at writing for masc but i tried my best, but hope you like it babes <3

She was more used to delicate things whenever it came down to her little special moments, as she didn’t do relationships—obviously.

But when she saw you, she was intrigued by you. The way you dressed and carried yourself. She couldn’t help but be drawn to you even more as she saw the way you would give her ‘those’ glances here and there.

Once Ambessa wanted something, best believe it would be in her grasp soon.

You two would usually run into each other while she would be sampling the local cuisine, sharing glances here and there, but never really saying anything to each other.

The tension was definitely up there.

Though the time soon came where you finally talked to each other as you had met each other at a nice restaurant, sparking yo a lovely, productive conversation—ofc you couldn’t help but gaze stupidly at her beautiful scars over her darkened almond skin, her braided hair that was struck with strikes of grey, and those plump wine lips of hers.

She was everything to you and you were everything to her.

Her eyes couldn’t help but scan over you—seeing the way your lips looked whenever you smirked or laughed, the way you held eye contact with her, and the way you just simply carried yourself. She couldn’t help but be drawn to you—especially when you started to talk about your own interests.

It seemed you were giving the poor woman a run for her money.

The way you’d lean back with a subtle manspread, voice etched with a teasing tone, and how you were shameless her out. It was honestly entertaining and intrigued her more.

Oh she had to have you.

NEOW.

The next couple days, you went on little outings together. Eating out, seeing theatre, and other activities that you both pretty like to do—making the new experience more enjoyable for the two of you as you also started to know more about each other as those days went on.

It was going really, REALLY well!!

With the small dates, it soon led you to mostly wake up in a large bed adorned with silky sheets with her gazing at you with that intense gaze while her sculptured body was dressed in a dark wine robe—accentuating her beauty that made you fall for her even more.

Though you led more on the masc side, that didn’t stop her from what she had in mind from you. Regardless, you were going to be laying on your ride, settling on her face or standing up as she ate you out like a starved woman or fingering you till your pussy singed to her or gave you slow, deep strokes with her strap. It was honestly music to her ears to hear those sweet groans and low moans of your whenever she would flick her tongue over your throbbing clit or pump her thick fingers in that same spot that made you tremble.

Oh and her? She loved how you were so eager to always please her. Whether it was by eating her out, fingering her, strapping or even scissoring—she could see how eager you were just by the way your own noises would somewhat overlap hers, even if you were eating her out or strapping her.

Ofc she still spoils you rotten.

You like jewelry? She’ll have the finest just for you. You like wearing suits? She’ll have the best tailor that she knows to make you a nice suit. You want a new set of fragrances? She’s already getting it from the best she knows.

She’ll spoil you rotten with no end and it’ll forever stay that way <3

When there are times you dress fem, she can’t help but stare at you as if you held the entire world in your hands. Though it’s every now and then you’ll do it, she still can’t help herself but gawk at you. You looked even more stunning.

Though ofc, she’ll tease you her and there about how you have to look up at her since she’s literally like 6’9 (???)

In conclusion, she pretty much gonna love ya regardless🎀

hope you enjoyed dollies <3

#ambessa fanfic #ambessa x you #ambessa smut #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa medarda #ambessa #ambessa league of legends #arcane lol #older women <3 #graciedollie ᯓᡣ𐭩 #https://graciedollie #lesbian #gracieasks!!#wlw #arcane #wlw blog #arcane league of legends #˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙—

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fanged-fanfics · 1 day ago

Note

Slides in with a very polite request of Dr Phosphorus/ Alex Tudyk x GN!Reader pretty please (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Story can be however you like heh.. 𝓘’𝓶 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓹𝓲𝓬𝓴𝔂

☆ Melting Sounds Much Sweeter Than Burning — Dr. Phosphorus x GN Reader Fic☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || Warning for canon-typical violence + a lot of swearing

A/N: I don't think it came across clear in the writing but this is pre-canon for context-

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

You were one of the humanoids caged up with the rest of the Commandos, locked up for your own big name crimes. There wasn't much the prison guards ever really let you do, and for quite a while you kept to yourself to try and avoid trouble. Sure, it was mundane to follow the guard's routines, but it kept you from getting shoved into solitary confinement or extra charges. But, in a flurry of green flames, trouble ended up quite literally landing in your lap during a mealtime brawl, and you found yourself fighting mutant assholess off of a radioactive green guy who was backing you up hit for hit.

From that day on, you couldn't seem to get rid of Dr. Phosphorus. You kept being in the same vicinity, or gravitating to each other subconsciously. Even if you tried to pick up conversations with someone else, he'd likely be the one to help you walk back to your cell. It was one of the better things to come from your time here. Phosphorus was one of the smarter criminals you interacted with on an average basis. He could at least hold a conversation without trying to gnaw his own leg off halfway through it like some other inmate (his name was apparently Weasel, but you didn't find that out till much later).

Unfortunately, despite your initial approach of being under the radar, Phosphorus was prone to trouble. You'd seen him melt a whole table enough to punch it in half, burn through walls, or sucker-punch people who pissed him off with a fist hot enough to literally kill them on impact. Suffice to say, you usually didn't offer him a handshake or give any pats on the back, for obvious reasons. Even though it was amusing to see him get himself out of alterations, you got into the habit of standing up to others by proxy.

Today, you'd gotten into a brawl. Not because of the great green doc, moreso of your own volition. You didn't get to see how it ended— swelling around one eye and dirt in the next prevented it. But due to the shouts you'd heard, it was easy to conclude the wardens broke it up. You were finally released back into your cell, seeing the familiar irradiated skeleton waiting for your arrival. The second the steps of the warden couldn't be heard, he walked up in front of you.

"The nurses didn't do a damn thing, did they?" He asked upon seeing your visible bruises and scrapes. You heaved a tired sigh as you sat on the edge of your stiff mattress "Hello to you too, Doc" you muttered. "Hey, I wasn't the one who jumped that guy" Phosphorus reminded, walking past the front of your vision "You had a hell of a stick up your ass today". "You heard him, he deserved every bit of it" you replied. Phosphorus kneeled down in front of you while saying, "Well all I see is you're the one with a fucked-up mug". You grumbled, keeping your gaze off to the side. He was right, of course, he usually was, it was just exceedingly annoying. He could never not be smug about it, even when he insisted he wasn't smiling.

"Guess you rubbed off on me" you commented back. "Better than you getting radiation poisoning like most around me do" Phosphorus countered lightly, reaching his hand up. You leaned back, scooting to the very back of your mattress as quick as possible. Phosphorus quickly retracted his hand "Still stings?". "No, dumbass, you're gonna melt my face off!" You said with pressing worry, almost in a yelp. For a brief moment of pause, silence and the soft hum of radiation was all you could hear before Phosphorus broke out in a loud laugh. It was always a little strange, watching his bony mouth open, blank eye sockets making the expression vacant even though he sounds happy. Speaking of, what the hell was there to laugh about-

"Ah, you may be smart, but you're sure as hell not observant" Phosphorus said, casually leaning his arm on your bedsheets "See?". You slowly leaned forwards, brow creasing in confusion "But- I've seen you- how the hell-" you stammered. He chuckled again, leaning his head into his palm "I can control when it burns anything. Right now, you're just fine. I don't plan to set another cell on fire". "Another?" You echoed, and he shrugged "There's a reason I got moved to being your cellmate. Now come on, you're just gonna look more fucked up if you don't let me see" he said.

You hesitated for just a second. There was a brief flicker of a thought that he could just be messing with you, but you pushed that aside. He didn't have reason to suddenly turn you into a walking molotov cocktail, right? And it's not like you ever did much to piss him off, intentionally anyways. You scooted up, and he leaned back to allow you the room. With a gentle hand, he touched your swollen black eye. You winced back at first, but thankfully his hand only felt warm rather than scalding. You sat up a little straighter, letting him look you over. "Do you even know what you're doing?" You asked. He pressed two fingers under your jaw, moving your head a bit to see the damage better while he spoke "I know more than anyone here would, unless you think leeches are still good for sore throats"

You nodded, still feeling a little uncertain. Even with his surprisingly gentle guidance, you saw the man break way too much 'invincible' shit to just forget. His touch eventually became a gentle hold on your jaw, guiding it back down "Jeez, way to go, pal. You're gonna be feeling this one for a few days". You nodded quickly, and he fell quiet. He pulled back his hand, holding it up in front of you instead "See? You're fine! Not even a little melting" he said, attempting to be reassuring. You nodded, looking at the hand he was holding up. With faltering motions, you very gently pressed your fingertips together. It definitely felt warm, but still bearable. Your palm slowly pressed to his.

You couldn't see his face change any, but his tone was warm with encouragement. "Not so bad when you get used to it, huh?". "Nah" you mumbled in agreement, slowly interlocking your fingers with his "Not bad at all". Phosphorus tilted his head down a bit to look fully, only waiting a moment before gently rubbing your hand a bit with his thumb. It had been quite a while since anyone felt comfortable enough to let him near, much less this. Not since... well, he didn't like to think about it too much. You both glanced up together, empty sockets meeting your eyes. Not wanting to overstep, you slowly pulled your hand back.

"Aaaanyways-" you began awkwardly, trying to transition back into casual conversation "You sure this didn't give me mercury poisoning or something?". The doctor chuckled, standing up "Who knows, you might wanna get checked". You gave him a small, non-serious glare in reply, and he laughed a little louder. He pointed to his face "Sarcastic smile". You huffed a small, exasperatedly fond sigh. You reached under your pillow, pulling out a stowed away deck of cards. "Wanna play blackjack?" Phosphorus asked as you began shuffling. "Sure, if you don't burn them when you lose" you replied. "I'm not promising anything" he said, hopping up to sit across from you on your bed.

As you prepped the game, a thought came to mind. "Hey, did the guards drag off that other guy?" You asked "I heard a lot of commotion". "Oh yeah, you know how they are" Phosphorus said casually "Can't handle a little third degree". You halted your motions all at once, squinting suspiciously at the man across from you, who had the nerve to innocently ask, "Something the matter?". You shook your head, smiling as you handed him his cards "Nothing, doc. Thanks"

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coffeegnomee · 2 days ago

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Devotions though, I'm back thinking about Spoke's video. When Spoke told them he was scripting the dupe war with parrot: Zam's devastating "it's scripted" filled with all the disappointment, sorrow, betrayal, devastation that those two words could be filled with.

Mapicc's "I'd rather be banned than this be scripted".

This is why they're them. This is why everyone looks at them with a healthy little bit of fear, unsure what move they will make. (Zy's post about mapicc got me thinking about this.)

Bc imo it's this. This pure and purified distain for scripting.

Mapicc will exploit/cheat/go too far/murder before questions to stop a scripted story: to stop someone from dominating a story with their own plan without getting the input from the team. He will do that sporadic shit if it makes sense to him. And it really only has to make sense to him. Your script be damned.

Zam's incessant figure-it-out-as-he-goes mentality towards the story. Staying consistent with the character but always reassessing, always rethinking, always being moved by the narrative that others present.

It makes both of them incredibly consistent but also incredibly erratic for the other members.

And especially with like mawn, mapicc just going for the plan with no plan just an outline maybe. taking the conversations, making assumptions, doing things and seeing what happens. And then he gets blindsided by this mentality from zam as well where he thought zam would join or oppose but zam just chose.. sitting out. And for reasons that made perfect sense to himself.

fuck it, i'll write it in this post: both have this very particular way of making videos on lifesteal.

There's two general categories of lifesteal videos:

get the idea to happen on the server and the video is about making it happen, culminating in the success. Generally they go until they make it happen no matter how long it takes.

have an idea at the start the video, and see where it goes, ending wherever makes sense.

Devotions hit that second category more often than not. Mapicc still does the first occasionally, but mawn is a great example of it. The oath is another. The joker, abyss, castle (from both sides), even dupe war from their pov. The dupe was already a sure thing when they started the video, what progressed was what they did with it.

They both so fully embrace the wildness that is unscripted mcrp in a way that goes beyond a lot of the members, even as, obv, unscripted is the law of lifesteal.

Cause like, wormhole is a fantastic example of the first. And the "problem" (difficulty) with it is you don't really have a video if it never happens. So you veer closer and closer to making it happen at any cost.

It's also interesting to think of Leo's trapping Flame video as the first, especially as, for that type of video, his first traps had to fail for the video's progression, but then it got out of hand and he went for the void and an end crystal used in dubiously illegal ways. But the video could not end until Flame died.

Flame's 10v1 is another example of the first. And mapicc went *nope* and objected to Flame thinking it would be that easy to force the server around when it got a little difficult (planning is difficult).

I love both categories fr. but its so interesting to look at the videos and the server because on so many levels, the narrative that bounces around the members is "if I can figure out the video idea, i get what they're doing", which works perfectly for the first, but with the second, and we've literally seen this so much with s5, with the second it's like, okay I get the video idea; why are you still doing it. And the reasoning is so much more hidden and not understood from the outside even though from the inside it's the most logical and obvious series of events.

And what is most fun is how the death star was 1 and then became 2. And the second it shifted from "i will make a death star" into "we made a death star and it didn't work: what next?" was precisely the moment Mane could not understand why Minute would take the 1v1. Because this type of video is not about the results, it's about the journey. It's about standing up for what you believe in. It's about seeing how people react.

And all of that leads to a player who is confusing and unknown and a little bit scary. Who might just end the world, or maybe just your world.

#lifesteal #devotions #gnome rambles

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lil-dragon-rawr · 16 hours ago

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Y'all what if FNaF and DC were in the same universe can you imagine the chaos

Michael: *applies for a security job at WE because go big or go home amirite)

Tim, doing the interview because everyone else was freaked out by Michael: so, uh. What's your work experience

Michael: oh! I was a security officer for a bunch of places. Only for like a week at a time though cause I was only working there to set them on fire

Tim, now deeply concerned: um. So uh. That's a crime

Michael, realizing he made a Mistake™ and attempting to defend himself: hey, with the last gig it was literally in my contract that I had to burn the place down

Tim, contemplating insurance fraud:

Michael: also I'm great with lawsuits

Michael: *is living in Crime Alley because of course he is*

Michael: *gets shot while interrupting a gang war*

Michael, staring at the bullet in his chest: oh cool! My first souvenir from the east coast!

Red Hood, trying to get the obvious civilian out of the way: uhh hey buddy, are you good?

Michael "Allergic To Dying" Afton: yeah I'm good! Check out this bullet!

Red Hood, deeply concerned: what the [REDACTED]

Michael, remembering most people die when they're shot: oh don't worry, ever since I got scooped I can't die!

Red Hood, deeply concerned and regretting this conversation: uh. Scooped?

Michael, excited to talk about his trauma: yeah! My dead sister tricked me into getting my insides scooped out so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise to escape their prison

Red Hood:

Michael, working at WE and high on fear gas thanks to Scarecrow: oh, the nightmares are back!

Michael: *ignores them and keeps flipping through the cameras to see where Scarecrow went*

Red Robin, trying to help his employees: sir, you need to evacuate the building. Also, here's an antidote to the fear toxin-

Michael, annoyed: hey can you get out of my face? You're blocking the bestest boi

Red Robin: you're on fear toxin, whatever you're seeing isn't real

Michael: yeah and it wasn't real the first four years either but nightmare foxy is back and I'm never letting him go, he's the only one I like

Red Robin: sir please

Tim: *checks in on Michael and sees a little robotic bear reading an official-looking paper*

Tim, incredibly confused and praying that's not confidential WE info: hey Mike, whatcha got there

Michael, scooping up Helpy to present him like it's his favorite child: this is Helpy! He's the best and is so helpful. He also cuddles really nicely!

Michael, getting flashbacks: unlike SOME animatronics

Tim: what's he. What's he holding

Michael, with the energy of a parent excited to show off his kid's latest project: oh it's a lawsuit!

Michael, having a Conversation™ with Red Hood: wait you're dead too!

Red Hood: uhh yeah?

Michael: but why aren't you purple? Are you an animatronic?

Red Hood, incredibly confused: ...why would I be an animatronic?

Michael: cause you aren't decaying like me???

Red Hood: ok cool new question

Red Hood: HOW would I be an animatronic?

Michael: what, like it's difficult?

Michael: I mean, my little brother got rebuilt into an animatronic when he died so it's not that much of a stretch

Red Hood, realizing this is karma for every joke he made about his own death:

Michael: and there was that time a pile of robot spaghetti wore my skin so they could be a real person

Red Hood: would you pLEASE stop talking about that

Michael, ignoring him: didn't stop me from decaying though. Hm

WE: *gets shut out of their systems by an unknown hacker with a robot fox face*

Michael: don't worry guys I got this!

Tim, severely concerned that Batfam stuff is going to get leaked: but you're a security guard?? How-

Michael, typing in LOL: yeah don't worry it's just Lolbit! They like to cause problems on purpose from time to time

Tim: Lol...bit? Causes problems on purpose?

Michael: it's like enrichment

*Batfam realizes they have to start investigating Michael*

Red Hood: I mean, we could just ask him

Red Hood: the first time we met he told me exactly how he died in great detail

Red Hood, reminiscing (read: war flashbacks): he had a twenty-four slide powerpoint

Red Robin, realizing Michael's purple and smells bad for a reason other than "classic Gotham chemicals": he's dead???

Red Hood, desensitized: yeah, he didn't tell you?

Red Robin: *approaches Michael outside of work*

Michael, no longer high on fear toxin: oh hiya boss!

Red Robin, panicking: uhh what

Michael "FoxyBro" Afton: is there a reason you're talking to me outside of business hours? Am I in trouble?

Red Robin, wondering how he was going to explain this to Batman: uhhhhhh

Batman: please explain your previous jobs. For the investigation

Michael: oh! Well it all began when I tried to play a prank on my brother, shoved him into Fredbear's mouth, and got him killed-

Michael: then the nightmares started, which I later found out was partially due to my dad running experiments on me every night-

Michael: eventually he died but not really,

Michael: oh! And my sister got eaten by Baby-

Batman, lost at "shoved him into Fredbear's mouth":

*Batfam arrives at the Pizzaplex to try and figure out what the heck is going on*

Michael, there because he's visiting his siblings, standing next to Baby, Golden Freddy, and Gregory (on Glamrock Freddy's shoulders): oh hi guys!

Red Robin, who read the Funtime schematics: Michael what the [404 SWEAR NOT FOUND]

Red Hood: there's a child?? Why is there a child???

Michael: didn't I tell you about him? Anyways this is Gregory, he's the robot version of my dead brother!

Michael, gesturing to Golden Freddy: and this is my dead brother

Michael: though technically that's also another kid who lowkey kinda scares me

Michael, moving on: and this is my sister!

Michael: y'know, the one who tricked me into getting my insides scooped so she and her friends could wear my skin as a disguise?

Red Hood: can you PLEASE stop talking about that

Baby: I told you you wouldn't die!

Michael, looking at the Batfam like they're cameras from The Office: and she wonders why she's not my favorite sibling

Nightwing, having a moment but still trying to get information: who's. Who's the other bot

Michael, patting Glamrock Freddy: oh that's me!

Michael: a piece of me anyways

Nightwing: I have so many more questions

Signal, who can see the ghosts: please do not ask for answers.

Michael, showing the Batfam around the Pizzaplex: do you want to see my favorite ride?

Red Hood: ...sure

Michael: it's Foxy's log ride! Foxy is my favorite, I'm so upset he got replaced with Roxy but at least he's still around! Y'know when I was a kid I used to wear a Foxy mask, which is coincidentally the mask I wore when I got my brother killed-

Michael: *goes on a whole rant of the evolutions of Foxy and why OG Foxy is his favorite*

Red Hood: *starts taking notes*

Roxy, storming through the Pizzaplex: Gregory, you lawless RAT, how DARE you replace my HAIRBRUSH with a pORCUPINE-

Gregory: *running to hide behind Spoiler because he associates purple with Michael*

Spoiler: *as Roxy runs up* oh uhh hi there. Roxy right?

Roxy:

Roxy: you're not Gregory

Spoiler: haha nope! No Gregory here!

Roxy: oh. Sorry

Roxy: love your outfit though!

Spoiler: thanks, love your makeup!

Roxy: I know, right? I'm gorgeous!

Spoiler:

Roxy: ...wanna have a girl's night with me and Glamrock Chica where we get dressed up and make Sun swear in binary?

Spoiler: did you even need to ask?

Robin, in a corner vibing with Mangle: *petting Mangle*

Mangle, also vibing: ._.(^w^)

Batman:

Puppet:

Batman:

Puppet:

Red Hood, realizing this is a staring contest: *goes halfway across the Pizzaplex to get popcorn and comes back to them in the exact same positions* ooh. Getting interesting

Nightwing: *argues with Circus Baby about clown etiquette*

Signal, overwhelmed by all the ghosts: man sure wish I had my lofi beats to study and relax to right now

DJ Music Man: *climbs out of the wall*

Signal: *unholy screeching* HOLY M- wait you're chill aren't you

DJ: *starts playing his version of lofi beats to study and relax to*

Signal: ...huh

Black Bat: *disappeared, found Ballora, and is now dancing with her* (^ ^)

Red Robin, recognizing the fox face from the WE hack: yOU

Funtime Foxy: I appreciate the enthusiasm for performing arts, but you must be thinking of my sibling!

Red Robin, who didn't find Lolbit's blueprints: your what

Lolbit, appearing out of nowhere: he means me!

Red Robin, with newly energized fury: YOU!

Lolbit: ...LOL!

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yoonjae20 · 3 days ago

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Batfam + Danny go on vacation [Bruce/Danny; Spirit Halloween]

Finally we are here at the Beach episode! /joking (well mostly lol). Also we get a much needed conversation between Damian and Danny.

Read on ao3. Masterpost

Previous.

“So I have been thinking,” Danny starts as they are laying in bed, both of them winding down after a long day. Bruce raises an eyebrow when his husband doesn’t continue.

“Yes?” he prompts and closes the book he had been reading, settling it on the nightstand.

“I feel like we deserve a nice vacation,” Danny finally says.

Bruce knits his eyebrows together, but doesn’t disagree.

“We’ll have to coordinate the patrols, but I guess we should be able to make a trip for a few days.”

Danny exhales, shaking his head as he smiles at Bruce.

“I meant with the whole family.”

Bruce’s eyes widen and he just stares at Danny.

“Yes, that means even Duke and Alfred,” Danny adds. “Barbara and Steph too if they feel like it. They should get a chance to relax.”

Bruce presses his lips into a fine line.

“We can’t let Gotham stay unprotected.”

Danny sighs like he expected this.

“We could always ask Clark-“

Bruce bristles, narrowing his eyes as if he can’t believe what Danny just said.

“No way I’m letting him protect my city!”

Danny rolls his eyes before he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Do you trust Clark?” he questions, staring his husband down.

Bruce squirms in his spot.

“Yes, but-“

“And if Clark asked you to protect Metropolis for him, would you deny him?” Danny interrupts.

“No of course not-“

“Then why don’t you extend him the same trust?” Danny huffs out a breath. “He’s literally your best friend Bruce, and we both know you don’t have a lot of those.”

Bruce doesn’t pout — for the record he doesn’t pout. He grunts, not meeting Danny’s eyes.

“I thought the sessions with Jazz were helping?” Danny asks as the man doesn’t answer. “You know you don’t have to keep pushing away people just because you are afraid of them getting hurt. You and I both know that if something really bad happens I can transport us back to Gotham in a blink.”

“It would be nice to have a vacation once in a while,” Bruce finally admits. “It’s just with everything going on lately… I feel uneasy.”

Danny lets out a fond huff as he kisses the man's cheek.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, right?”

“I hate that I don’t find that patronizing.”

Danny chuckles.

“The perks of being your husband, I guess,” he says cheekily before he reaches over to the lamp on his nightstand, turning it off. “I’ll bring up the idea to the rest of the family tomorrow.”

“I guess I don’t have a say in the matter,” Bruce sighs but it’s fond.

“You know the saying — Happy husband, happy life.”

“That doesn’t even rhyme.”

Danny hushes him and Bruce rolls his eyes before he also turns off his lamp.

“Danny?” he extends into the dark.

His husband hums as Bruce finds his hand under the blanket.

“I love you.”

Bruce can hear Danny’s smile in his voice.

“I love you too.”

They draw a lot of attention as they arrive at the airport despite them taking a private plane. They stop for a moment outside the Gate as Danny does a headcount — making sure nobody got lost (or more like they saw something suspicious and decided to investigate. Yes, Danny is talking about Tim or Bruce.)

Danny claps to get everyone’s attention, the squabbling and banter finally stopping.

“Does everyone have their luggage?” Danny asks. “I know we can easily replace any clothes and essentials, but I know for fact that some of you went behind my back and packed your costumes and weapons nevertheless.”

Danny’s gaze heads to Damian and Tim, the latter who doesn’t meet his eyes. Damian just stares at him with a neutral expression. Danny sighs and shakes his head.

“But I guess it’s asking too much to expect a family full of vigilantes to go anywhere without a safety blanket.”

“Not everyone can simply transform Magical Girl style,” Jason snarks.

Danny narrows his eyes.

“We both know you are the one who is the most strapped to hell,” Danny says. “Do you want me to confiscate everything?”

Jason takes it as the warning it is and shuts his mouth. Danny huffs out a breath.

“I thought so,” Danny states. “Then let’s get out here before the paparazzi flocks here. Everyone on social media must know where we are by now.”

The kids fall in line and Danny and Bruce form the final light. Bruce chuckles.

“I never thought I would miss your bossy side,” he says. “You used to nag me constantly.”

Danny raises an eyebrow.

“Are you sure you want to stir that hornets’ nest?”

Bruce laughs as he puts a hand around Danny’s waist as they walk.

“Of course not — it’s more amusing to not be at the end of it.”

“Well Alfred told me quite some interesting stories-“

Bruce leaves his side and quickly hurries with long strides to catch up with his kids. Danny shakes his head with a smile while Alfred looks at him and Bruce with a knowing smirk. I guess some things never change, Danny thinks to himself fondly.

They arrive at their rented penthouse, all of them going to their assigned rooms to sleep off the jet lag until dinner. Danny pulls out something more comfortable to wear from his suitcase when he sees Bruce settled on the balcony, anxiously staring at his phone.

He lets out a sigh, abandoning the clothes as he steps out. He snatches his husband’s phone, ignoring his protests.

“I told you no social media or reading business emails while we are on vacation,” Danny chides. “Clark will be fine. Steph and Barbara stayed behind as well. Stop catastrophizing.”

Danny glances at the news headlines for Gotham, snickering when he sees the prank Jason and him did on Joker. The graffiti almost looks even better than during the night. It had been quite a rush job to make sure they would have enough time until the flight, but somehow they managed. (It might have helped that Danny used some doppelgängers too.)

They are hoping to draw the rogue out of hiding. He’s been suspiciously quiet the last few months.

“I should have known it was you,” Bruce sighs, “Did it have to be on the Wayne Enterprises building?”

Danny shrugs with a fake innocent smile.

“How can I deny our son?”

Bruce shakes his head, but his lips perk up into a fond smile as he hums.

“Our son,” he murmurs. “I quite like that.”

Danny snorts.

“Of course you would,” he teases before shooing the man inside their room again. “Now let’s go take a nap — I know you are tired too, you can’t fool me.”

“I changed my mind,” Bruce banters. “I don’t like your bossy side.”

“Too late,” Danny says as he pushes him onto the bed, caging the man inside his arms as he smiles.

His core purrs under his chest as Bruce looks at him with obvious adoration. He leans down and kisses the man, sleep quickly forgotten.

Danny sits down on the pier next to Damian who has his knees tucked under his chin.

“Not enjoying the vacation?” Danny asks softly.

Damian doesn’t really react to hearing his voice other than his eyebrows crinkling and Danny has to hold back a coo at the sight of it — he could never be angry at Damian despite what Ra’s did, the boy was just too much like his father. He hums, contemplating if he should give the boy space or push through his obvious discomfort.

He decides to do the former — Danny doesn’t know the boy long enough to truly understand him. While he might act similar to Bruce, there is no 28 year old relationship between them. No unbroken trust. He also has a feeling that Damian would find it patronizing if he treated him a child — no matter that he is one. (And how much anger Danny feels at the fact that he grew up having no real childhood.)

He moves to stand but before he can Damian catches his wrist. Danny freezes, but the boy still doesn’t look him in the eyes as he obviously tries to collect himself.

“Aren’t you angry?” Damian questions. “At what Mother and Grandfather did? At me?”

“I’m angry about a lot of things,” Danny says, keeping his voice calm. “You’ll have to specify on what.”

Damian frowns, dropping his wrist as he pulls his legs even closer.

“I should have never existed,” he says, voice monotone. “How can I call myself the heir of Father’s mantle, when, if it weren’t for Grandfather’s meddling, I would have never been created?”

Danny takes a deep breath, suppressing the rage welling up in him.

“I know for a fact that your father never regretted taking you in,” Danny says. “He always wanted biological children — yes what your grandfather did was despicable, but you know that Bruce doesn’t blame you, right?”

Damian gulps audibly.

“Why wouldn’t he regret it?” he questions. “I’m feral, angry and violent. I can’t read social cues and I don’t trust people. I treated Drake and the rest horribly…” His voice breaks. “I’d rather call people by their surnames than admit that they are important to me.”

“You didn’t call me by my surname,” Danny interjects gently.

Damian finally looks up, struggling to keep his composure and the expression in his eyes is something Danny is way too familiar with. He lets out a sigh as he projects his movements, giving Damian enough time to draw back if he doesn’t want to be touched. When he doesn’t even twitch, Danny crouches down and tucks his head into his chest.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Danny soothes as the boy breaks down. “No matter what you think you did, I forgive you.”

Damian clutches Danny’s shirt — for the first actually crying and letting it all out.

“He cried himself out,” Danny whispers as he leans at the door frame, looking at Bruce who strokes through the boy’s hair, where he is settled on their bed. Bruce trembles with barely suppressed fury.

“I should have confronted Ra’s and Talia when I took him in.”

Danny sighs as he crosses his arms.

“You know that wouldn’t have changed a thing,” he says, walking over to the man and Damian, rubbing Bruce’s shoulder. “Damian would have taken it as an attack on his honor.”

“Then after this vacation-” Bruce's voice rises.

“Bruce,” Bruce closes his mouth at Danny’s tone. “He has made so much progress. Do you really want to set him back?”

Bruce presses his lips together.

“You can accompany him if he wants to do it himself,” Danny adds. “But what he really needs right now is you.”

Bruce lets out a heavy sigh.

“I know,” he accepts. “It's just not fair” He squeezes his eyes close. “Not only did they take away the chance of having my first biological child, but they didn’t even tell me about him until it was almost too late. I never saw his first steps. I never heard his first words. I never held him in my arms when he was a baby.”

Bruce balls his left hand into a fist, gritting his teeth. Danny takes his hand, slowly prying it open and holding it before he can hurt himself, carefully brushing over crescent shaped indents.

“You saw him making friends for the first time. You heard his first real, happy laugh. You held him, showing him that touch can be something other than violence,” Danny counters. “We can always make new memories.”

Bruce turns, hugging his stomach as he buries his head in it.

“What did I do without you for 22 years?” the man asks and Danny chuckles, blinking back tears.

“I wonder the same.”

They are relaxing on the beach loungers watching over the rest of their family goofing off in the water, splashing each other as they laugh when Danny gets the alert. He frowns as he looks at the contents. Instantly Bruce notices, looking away from Damian who for once also participates — him and Tim teaming up against the rest — knitting his eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong?”

Danny sighs before he forces a smile on his lips.

“Kingly duty calls,” he lies. “I’ll try to be quick.”

He gives Bruce a quick peck on his lips before he opens a portal, disappearing in it.

It’s only later that the rest of the family realizes that Jason disappeared after he excused himself to get himself a cold glass of water too.

Both of them only return a day later, covered in blood.

Bruce’s hands had shook when he saw them, trembling over their forms when he checked them for any injuries. It was only when Danny gave him a smile that he relaxed.

“It’s not either of our blood,” Danny explains, “Or did you forget that both our blood is contaminated by ectoplasm?”

He grasps Bruce’s both hands, settling one of them over his heart and the other over Jason’s — who surprisingly doesn’t even protest.

“We are fine, Bruce.”

Bruce still clutches both of them close. (He knows what they did, but the only important thing to him is that they are safe.)

“Group hug!” Dick exclaims and runs up to them, quickly forming a cuddle pile as the rest join.

Danny ruffles Damian’s hair when the boy leans against him. Yes, they are safe. (And nobody will be able to change that — Danny will make sure of it.)

#dc x dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #dc #danny phantom #danny fenton #bruce/danny #spirit halloween ship #spirit halloween #batfamily #batfam #damian wayne #batfamily shenanigans #yoonjae20 #yoonjae20 writing

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bebethsas · 1 day ago

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@foundtherightwords lol, he did? when??

"such a boy back then" sir that 'closing-the-shutters' moment in the hotel room has been compared to the Mr.-Darcy-hand-flex moment from the Pride and Prejudice movie in its intensity and ability to make people swoon--don't sell yourself short!!

("such a boy--" he was what, 22, 23 when he shot this?? ...also wow I just remembered that Leonard is canonically 20-21 in this, so Joe was actually in a role that was close to his IRL age for once--I know it's not the only role he's played whose age was close to his age when they filmed, but still)

2nd gif's caption: "what d'you want to have me in there for??"

also: man, I think this is my favorite scene in the entire show. I swear, every second is great;

there's Leonard getting upset--and trying very hard to leave--for multiple reasons: -he thought that Helen and her sister invited him to tea b/c... (...b/c I thought that you liked my company? That you were interested in discussing art with me again? That maybe you liked me (as a person)? He doesn't finish the statement, but the look on his face... only 22, only 22 and already so talented, what am I doing with my life...) ...when they actually just invited him over to warn him about his job most likely going belly-up (cough convince him to leave his position b/c they're convinced that they're right, and that their source for this info--(through gritted teeth) Mr. Wilcox--is infallible cough). -(I suspect that he's also upset b/c now he knows that they're on friendly terms with the Wilcoxes--Mr. Wilcox and his daughter dropped by in the previous scene, and Leonard's polite smile dropped with it--and I'm pretty sure that he knows who Mr. Wilcox is) -he feels like they only invite him 'round b/c...I'm struggling with how to describe this. It's like they don't care about him as a person with a brain, they care about him as a human for them to talk at. He feels like he can't discuss art with them, and he feels like they're judging him based on what he wants to talk about, and they unintentionally dismiss the way he interacts with art as well as his emotions about it; their way of viewing art is the only thing that is discussed, and his way isn't encouraged? I'm trying to explain it...It's like...imagine that they're three children, and they've each brought a toy to their gathering; only the Schlegel sisters' toys are allowed to be played with, while Leonard's toy is purposefully ignored since the sisters aren't interested in it. -they're not interested in his interests and don't want to talk about them, and only want to talk about what they want to talk about (gaaaaah and as a person with ASD I felt that line on a spiritual level)

then there's Helen desperately trying to diffuse the situation--all the while not knowing why there is a situation to diffuse in the first place and becoming visibly distressed

and then Tibby pops up out of nowhere and inadvertantly makes things worse with his blunt way of speaking (and being damn funny the entire time too; he literally enters the scene by suddenly leaning out of a doorway and saying "does anyone actually like [Dostoyevsky]...you can't go a single page without someone collapsing on the floor," in response to something his sister had said in her private conversation with Leonard) (note to self, look into reading Dostoyevsky, it sounds like his work would appeal to my ✨Dramatic✨ taste.) Tibby, literally 2 seconds later with zero tact or intended malice: "I say, are you that poor devil of a clerk they have debates over at the Chelsea Women's Political Club?"

and Annie the maid, popping up twice while trying to look for Leonard's hat, and becoming increasingly more stressed and upset from the stressful situation and Helen's rising stress levels (which she is unintentionally taking out on Annie), which puts more unspoken pressure on her to find that hat.

it's a boatload of tension, mainly between Helen and Leonard, with Annie off camera in another room, and with Tibby on the side (looking rather nonplussed and completely unphased by the thick-and-stressful tension in the air--love that for him 😂).

you can tell that Helen feels bad (and confused) that Leonard's upset and wants to make it right (even as their conversation goes farther and farther downhill as they speak), and Leonard is upset and disappointed and just wants to leave (but he can't because he can't find his hat--and no he can't just leave without it, not just b/c it's not The Proper Thing To Do, but because if he left it behind, that means that he would have to come back and fetch it; and he also can't replace it b/c he and Jackie are already struggling to make ends meet as is, so he's literally stuck standing awkwardly in the hallway with Helen as he waits for Annie to locate and return with his hat, while uncomfortably enduring Helen's questions) and it's just...aaaaaaaauuughhhhh!!! It's great :3

It's a very human scene, and I've lived similar situations before, so it feels VERY realistic.

i pray that linking this doesn't lead to yt finding this vid and deleting it:

youtube

(yes I backed up a bit b/c the preceding scene is also good, goddammit, it's so subtle but you can see the minute way his face falls when they tell him that the reason they wrote him was b/c they wanted to warn him about his job. I swear, you can see the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes.)

...literally so talented that when Anne Rice (yes, Lestat's mom) watched the miniseries, she noticed it and tweeted about it.

JOSEPH QUINN as LEONARD BAST in Howard's End

#jfc I swear #every time I come on this site #I learn that there's yet still *more* stuff that I haven't heard before XD #...also wow this reblog grew #sorry for the juggernaut of a response Sal!#this was supposed to end after “don't sell yourself short”!#leonard bast #joseph quinn #Youtube

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eclipseberrycake · 12 hours ago

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Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 5

AN: I cannot believe my silly lil MBC ramblings have turned into this. This is a combination of that one request mentioning the "I may be an idiot, but I'm your idiot" and another requesting Witch! Reader! I kind of took some creative liberties because this idea just like...hit me and I was like. If i dont write this rn im gonna crash out. Again, don't look too hard into the logic of this, it's a toon world :)

-> Part one

-> Part Two

-> Part Three

-> Part Four

☁ Sprout knew, intimately so, at this point that you, his loving, darling, amazing partner, could be so, so dumb it was alarming you've lasted this long.

☁ He loves you. He does. So much it hurts. But you literally are the embodiment of every chaotic impulsive thought he's sure they've all had. The only difference is that you do it.

☁ Which. Come on. Like, there has to be a learning moment. Where you turn over a new stone or rock or however that saying goes and you don't toe the line of twisted RnD's boundary, keeping them awake just to tease the twisted since they couldn't reach you. There had to be.

☁ He should've known it was too good to be true, at the beginning of the relationship, when things went too smoothly for him. Too good to be true.

☁ Truthfully, you're all little demons. He knew you were all hiding it, but to see it in person? He's getting gray leaves.

☁ Astro likes to play this game where he follows whoever's distracting, most times you, to see how close he can get to the twisted without them noticing. It drives Sprout, and even Cosmo, nuts watching it even if they know he's practically invisible to the twisteds.

☁ That does not stop him from being seen every once in a while when he gets too cocky, but he's quick to evacuate the area while you get the twisteds attention once more.

☁ Every lecture seems to go in one ear and out the other though as the very next run, unless it's a blackout, he's doing it again. (So maybe I play like this what of it-).

☁ Cosmo is normally pretty clever about how he does runs and is often the least of his worries. Unless there's a call for a bandage.

☁ From there it's like a race between him and Cosmo. Cosmo immediately drops whatever he's doing and takes off towards the source of the call. Sprout as well has to take off because sure enough, Cosmo doesn't take into account it's in the area you're distracting in, and Sprout can only watch as you realize he's in the area, panic to figure out an alternative route, get smacked by a twisted Teagan as Cosmo nearly gets bit by the Twisted Boxten.

☁ All of that for a bandage. For Cosmo who was at full health.

☁ Sprout has to step in, calling the Twisted's attention with a spare airhorn he found, giving you the chance to recover as Cosmo passes you a treat and a frantic apology, quickly leaving the area as he slaps said bandage on.

☁ The twisteds are returned to you as Sprout ducks behind a wall, trying to ease the rapid pounding of his heart. He cannot keep having the same conversations.

☁ Cosmo is unlike Astro as he shows actual remorse, immediately apologizing and saying that he wasn't thinking he just didn't want anyone else to take it, turning on the waterworks as he burrows into Sprout's scarf.

☁ You're already saying they're crocodile tears (They are) with Astro snickering at the action, but Sprout is a weak man. He falls for it every time, immediately breaking and cooing that it was just an accident and these things happen, Cosmo just needs to be more careful.

☁ And then there's a call for a med-kit the next floor and it happens ALL OVER AGAIN.

☁ So, yeah, you're all demonic gremlins and Sprout is the unfortunate victim of it. He's just as bad outside of runs though, don't worry.

☁ But you. Oh you. Are by far. The worst for his heart.

☁ He already doesn't like the fact that as a distractor, you're constantly in danger, but you know what he doesn't like more? The fact that you don't seem to take it as serious as you should.

☁ He's lost count of how many times you've run past him, shouting some sort of argument with Goob who was also distracting. How you've paused to emphasize a point and Goob's had to snatch you to save you from getting hit.

☁ Or how many times you've climbed onto a table, out of the twisted's reach but close enough to keep their attention, hands on your hips as you go on about some theory you heard about.

☁ He won't admit it, but his favorite thus far is that Dandy's actually bald and the petals are all fakes.

☁ Or the one where you claim Twisted Toodles has rabies, while Twisted Toodles snaps and snarls at your feet, clawing at the table.

☁ And when you're back in the elevator, and he's got you corner, going on and on about how idiotic of a move that was and why would you even think of doing that? You give him a grin and a cheeky smile.

☁ "I may be an idiot, but remember. I'm your idiot. FOREVER." You'd preen, cackling as he debates between throttling you or kissing you enough you're too dazed to think about running and he has to drag you behind him the next floor.

☁ Little did Sprout know that a turning point would come.

☁ He knew Dandy and you had your differences, as you were managing to get the research needed and reclaiming the other toons back to the good side while spending the minimal amount of tapes. (Not that it helped when a certain survivalist toon was on the run, but he digresses.)

☁ This time however, you were adamantly refusing to hand over any tapes and Dandy was close to crashing out. His eye was twitching as he glowered at you, you're own sneer rivaling his. "Why should I give you the tapes if I can give them to Sprout?" You'd snarl, making Dandy slam his hands on the desk.

☁ "Fine! Be that way then!" He snapped, yanking on the lever to bring him back down.

☁ "Was that really our best move?" Vee raised a brow at the closed hatch, nudging it with her foot.

☁ "Maybe we could've spared some for a stopwatch or something." Gigi added, reaching into her head to pull out a can of pop. "I don't know if his twisted form is something I'm all too excited to deal with."

☁ While Sprout agreed, he also didn't want Dandy to win. But still, Dandy's twisted form was lethal and he didn't fancy seeing your twisted form. Not after Astro had told him how even you, yourself, had feared it and what it was capable of.

☁(Guys not to spoil anything, but you'll never guess what else is in the works from that line alone lol)

☁ They hadn't seen any clones of your twisted form yet, but weren't eager to.

☁ You gave a wave of your hand dismissively. "Nah, it looks big but it really isn't that bad."

☁ None of them looked convinced.

☁ You groaned, rolling your eyes. "Fine! if he shows up. I'll make sure to stick to an area Astro and a healer can remain nearby." You pout, though between him and the other two, Sprout can tell you're a little hurt.

☁ No matter what you do, or how you distract, you're number one priority is their safety. If there's a serious twisted, you're immediately doing a one-eighty, distracting like a pro. You only goof off when their twisteds you know inside and out. To have them doubt for even a second you wouldn't give up your own sanity for them, probably stings.

☁ Frowning, he sets a hand on your shoulder, tilting your chin up with his other hand. "You got this, bud. We know you do. We just wanna be a little cautious when it comes to Dandy."

☁ And he knows you know that, making you frown a bit more before huffing. "I know."

☁ Cosmo is quick to wrap his arms around you, giving you a bright smile. "Besides, you know how much we love watching you distract anyway."

☁ Which too a degree was true. They loved seeing you in your element, thriving and shining like a shooting star.

☁ By the time Sprout is looking back, you're smothered between Astro and Cosmo, pushing away their murmurs of praise with bundles of laughter bursting from you. It makes him grin.

☁ But then the elevator stills and opens, only there's no footsteps. There's no signs of any twisteds at all actually. No commons, no passives, no mains. Just...empty. It's unsettling.

☁ With a look to each other, you and Goob are the first to step out, remaining cautious of the room around you. When you both make it into the center area, the rest slowly step out.

☁ "Is this a free floor?" Finn asks, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

☁ "Even free floors have twisteds." Vee answers, bringing her mic in front of her and tapping it. "Is this thing working?"

☁ Nothing is highlighted save for a small, wrapped up bundle near the broken elevator.

☁ Since you're faster than Goob, you slowly step forward, you're entire body tense as you spot said bundle.

☁ Astro and Sprout remain close enough they can target you if needed with Goob on standby in case the worst happens. None of them have ever seen anything like this before and have no idea what it even is.

☁ Vee, Finn and Gigi move on to finish three of the machines with the fourth primed right next to elevator, all giving the signal to go.

☁ So you do. You walk up to it and begin by kicking it slightly. It doesn't move and you move to poking it. When nothing happens, you pick it up, examining it before slowly moving to open it. By the time the beige paper wrapped around it is pulled away, you're left with a small glass bottle. It looks like a smoke bomb.

☁ Rolling your eyes, you're already whining about how a smoke bomb got you all so riled up, dropping it front of you and watching it erupt into purple smoke around your figure.

☁ In hindsight, that should've been a sign. The final machine is finished and the elevator re appears, a few scattered giggles ringing out at the fluke floor.

☁ But you aren't laughing like normal.

☁ Sprout notices immediately, glancing at Astro and Cosmo, who are already looking at him. They've noticed it too.

☁ Just as they're about to say something, the cards plop down, and you immediately vote on the Penny pincher one, turning to them with a soft, almost strained smile.

☁ "Are you...feeling okay, bud?" Sprout asks, watching as Astro rests the back of his hand on your forehead. His grimace does little reassure them.

☁ "Do you need a heal?" Cosmo pipes up next, placing a hand on Sprout's shoulder as he does. "Or a pop? Maybe you have low blood sugar."

☁ You shake your head, which seems like a bad move as you sway, Astro having to catch you as you stumbled.

☁ "Okay, I'm calling it-" Sprout's declaring as he steps towards the lever to return to the lobby before you're stopping him with a call of his name.

☁ "Sprout! No, I'm fine, just a little dizzy! It'll pass. We need the shelly research!" You had been positively adamant on getting shelly back since getting Vee, knowing she was the last main. They were sure it's because you knew Shelly and Astro were good friends and that was probably influencing your need to get it done as fast as possible.

☁ "Starlight, I'm sure it can wait." Astro adds, holding you much closer as you continue to sway. "You can barely stand upright and you have a fever. How long have you been feeling unwell?"

☁ "I was fine!" Your face scrunches as you fight for balance. "I promise. I don't know what happened!"

☁ The voting ends and everyone is immediately rewarded with the tapes. Most are handed right over to Sprout, who pockets them in case of an emergency, but there's a disturbance. He can't feel the energy of the tapes as well as Dandy, or even Pebble for that matter, but he can tell the magic within them is wavering somewhere. Looking over, he can tell where.

☁ "Bud?" He prods once more, and your head shakes again, this time taking our your legs as punishment for the movement. Astro once more catches you as Sprout demands the run be finished, Vee already at the lever, while Cosmo leaves his side to check you over.

☁ By all accounts, on the surface, you're fine. But Sprout can tell. He can feel it in the wave the magic of the tapes seems to cling to you. Looking at Astro, he can tell too.

☁ Maybe bringing you away from the tapes until...whatever this is passes is for the best, despite your refusals.

☁ The elevator is brought up and Astro scoops your form into his arms and against his chest, carrying you out and in the direction of your room.

☁ "You guys are as stubborn as mules!" You scoff out, struggling against the hold your in. "I'm fine. It was a dizzy spell! It-" You pause as you groan, curling into yourself and making Astro freeze. Sprout and Cosmo are right there, hands already buzzing with energy, yet, it's not needed.

☁ With the close proximity, he can feel the magic in the tapes get yanked, pulled into a physical manifestation. Then there's a scream. Looking over, they watch Finn scramble to get away as a donkey manifests itself in front of him. It's made out of tree bark and sticks with leaves for a mane, standing there and giving a bored bleat.

☁ You look over at it from Astro's shoulder, blinking at it and everyone's gaping face before wilting. "Okay, maybe it wasn't just a smoke bomb."

☁ There's a flurry of motion as Toodles runs towards her newly proclaimed pony, naming it Oakley of all things. Rodger is rushing, trying to pry her away while the others are trying to figure out just where Oakley came from.

☁ None of you stick around, the boys quickly bringing you to the bedroom and setting you on the bed. You look marginally better, leaning against Astro, who strokes your fur back, even as he watches Sprout pace in front of the bed. Cosmo is fiddling with his hands, standing to the side and bouncing in place as he opens his mouth over and over again, trying to find the words.

☁ Finally, the cake roll settles on, "What was that?"

☁ This stalls Sprout as he pauses, whirling on his heel to face you. "You used tape magic. How'd you do it?"

☁ You raise a brow at this, silently asking him to continue. He does so. "The only non-main who can use tape magic is Teagan. But she can't extend that to anyone or anything but herself. That's exclusive to mains. So how-" He pauses, brows furrowing. "The thing- the thing on the floor on that last floor!"

☁ It's like an epiphany. " But that-" He stalls, swallowing before shaking his head. He'd look into it further. "What are you feeling now? Better at all?"

☁ You hum for second, rolling your head as you take inventory. "A little better. Sore, but...better." You answer. "I didn't know I could do that."

☁ "Could it really be a side effect from...whatever that was?" Cosmo asks.

☁ "Hard to say. Like Sprout said, using Tape magic to influence anything but yourself is exclusive to mains." Astro frowns, taking in the information. "Which brings up an assortment of questions about your history and that object. Perhaps it's turned you into a momentary main."

☁ "I don't feel different though!" You exclaim, Sprout catching one of the hands you flung up. He pokes at your palms and fingers, finding soft pads of flesh. You yank it back. "I've always had those!" You defend.

☁ "Easy, bud, I was making sure they weren't injured." He soothes and you reluctantly let him look at them again.

☁ "Can you do it again?" Cosmo asks. "Like... It happened because you were thinking of an animal right? And that animal showed up? Can you do it again?"

☁ "I don't know if we should be testing this. We're unaware of what it needs or what it entails-" Astro quickly cuts in, but it's too late as you immediately shout out "Cat!" and like magic, a cat plops into Astro's lap.

☁ All of you stare at the thing, which is made up of whipped cream and cake, strawberries making up it's flickering ears and a blueberry for a nose. When it mews, Sprout stumbles back, tripping over himself as Cosmo screeches, poor Astro caught between being trapped by the thing and staying with you.

☁ You immediately coo at it, picking it up, and snuggling into it as it gives you a happy purr, licking your face. When you pull it away, you give your best puppy dog eyes, staring at your gaping boyfriends. "Can we keep them?"

☁ "Where did that come from?!" Sprout exclaims, hands coming up to yank at his leaves while Astro's mouth hands open, hands hovering as if unsure what to do at this point. If this was the stress he brought to Sprout's life, he owed the berry so many apologies because what.

☁ Cosmo was the first to recover before slowly crawling onto the bed, making you turn to face him with the creature. It continued purring happily, sniffing at the offered hand before nuzzling into it, prompting Cosmo to pet it. "I mean...It doesn't look dangerous."

☁ "It literally came out of nowhere." Astro gaped, watching as you transferred the cat from your arms to Cosmo's, who let it lick at his face. "That's a cat. There's a cat."

☁ Digging through his wallet, Sprout's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "The tapes. You used my tapes-" He's not upset, not at all, but that kind of reach was really unheard of.

☁ "There's a cat." Astro repeats once more, standing as he runs two of hands through his fur. "Oh my stars, there's a cat. In our room."

☁ "Do you not like cats?" Cosmo asks, tilting his head as the...creature crawls onto his shoulder if only to jump to his head, giving soft licks to the icing on top. It makes the cake roll laugh, which you're echoing before turning to Astro. "I'm sorry. If I had known I would've chosen a different animal. We don't have to keep it I promise."

☁ Astro blinks, as if stunned by that's what you two were hung up on. "What? No. No, I don't mind cats, but starlight. My star, my sun, my galaxy," Astro takes a breath as his hands fall, save for one that rubs between his eyes. "You made a cat appear out of literal thin air. That's a...That's impossible in actuality."

☁ "Super impossible." Sprout agrees, watching the thing strut from Cosmo's head to jump onto yours. You go cross-eyed trying to look up at it, grinning as it meows at you with one paw landing on your cheek so it can lick at your head. You giggle at it before grabbing it, holding it against you as it seems to burrow into your chest. He's man enough to admit that he's jealous of the cat, sneering at it.

☁ "Well, evidently not." Cosmo snickers, using his fingers to poke at the cat's paws. Their paw pads are made of jelly beans and Sprout has to admit it's a little cute. Running a hand down his face, he groans, only to glare at Astro as he gentle runs a hand down the cat's head, getting a thankful lick in return. "Astro!"

☁ The celestial looks startled at being caught, looking at Sprout before shrugging. "You gotta admit. It's a cute little thing."

☁ "It's a she!" You add, almost unhelpfully. "You know, if you think about it, it's kind of like our child!"

☁ You make it an Olympic sport to see how fast you can get all three of them varying degrees of flustered, Sprout swears on it. He's left stammering, looking for help from Astro-who's blue screened, blinking blankly at the cat who paws at his still hand- and Cosmo- who's too busy hiding his face in a pillow.

☁ cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. This was fine. Taking a breath, Sprout urges himself to push whatever feelings that were bubbling in him at the action down, taking a soothing breath. "Bud, that's a cat." And because he couldn't help himself, he added, "Plus, we know our kid would look much cuter."

☁ You flush, just as he expected you too, hiding your face in the cat. The only thing you can come up with is, "Dandy got a dog. Why can't I have a cat?"

☁ "Because it won't stop at a cat." Sprout has to explain, thinking back to Oakley in the living room. "What if the next time it's- I don't know- a dinosaur?!"

☁ "It won't be a dinosaur." You argue back. "Maybe a friend for Custard."

☁ "We are not naming her Custard!" Sprout hisses only to groan as he realized you caught him in your trap, hearing your "a-hah!' proclaiming victory.

☁ "So we can keep her!" You cheer, even if Sprout is debating suffocating you in your sleep later. "No! We can't! Because then it's one, then two! Then we're crazy cat people!"

☁ "We would not-"

☁ "If that were the case, wouldn't we already have a dog, dinosaur and like at least two more cats?" Cosmo suddenly pops up, his cheeks still very rosy.

☁ "True, we got...her, simply by Y/N mentioning a cat and Oakley by them saying the word Mule. It hasn't happened again and I still have all of my tapes." Astro adds on, smoothing out his fur and hair, readjusting his cap. "Maybe it's worn off."

☁ "Quick, before it's too late try for a cat again!" Cosmo eagerly demands, despite both Sprout and Astro shouting 'No!' at the prospect.

☁ You ignore them, shouting out cat once more. The only reaction you get is the cat in your arms pawing at you. You slump, frowning at losing the aspect. "Dang." You sigh. "Well, at least we got you out of it."

☁ "We can't get rid of her!" Cosmo pleads, handing off your shoulder to look up at Astro and Sprout, who cast a glance at each other. "I promise I'll be more careful on runs if we keep her!" He adds quickly.

☁ "Oh! Me too!" You add, joining Cosmo in giving them the puppy dog eyes.

☁ With a heavy groan, Sprout looks at Astro, who's smiling softly at the two of you. When the celestial looks over, Sprout knows he's lost him. "...It's just one cat."

☁ Sprout groans again, looking up to the roof as if there's some being up there seeing the same bullshit he's seeing. They're probably laughing at him.

☁ "Fine! But we're not naming it Custard! And I expect you to keep your promises or I swear I'm going for that favorite Uncle award and giving Toodles a new pet." He finally relents, extending a finger to the cat, who licks it before jumping into his arms as you and Cosmo cheer. For what it was worth, that cat was pretty cute.

☁ The cat ends up being names Blueberry cake (get it get it-), Blu for short. She's a happy-go-lucky kitty who purrs and licks everyone when one of you is in the room, only to throw an absolute hissy fit when you leave. If Blue is left alone with anyone without having you, Cosmo, Sprout or Astro in sight, she refuses to let anyone touch her, hissing and swatting at anyone brave enough. The second one of you return though, she's all purrs and happy mews.

☁ She sleeps on pebble who sleeps on your bed, sorry I don't make the rules.

☁ Oakley is still around too, but stays outside where he prefers it. You obviously earned worlds greatest aunt/uncle/nibling for that, even if Rodger curses your name for it. Toodles loves it and thats the most important part.

☁ Blu also comes on runs sometimes! The first time it happens, it was an accident, but one that Sprout begrudgingly appreciates as she has an uncanny ability to sniff out tapes no matter how hidden they are.

☁ And before you ask, yes. Sprout absolutely is the dad that said he didn't want a pet and would now literally kill a man for Blu.

☁ As you said after all, she's pretty much your child :)

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