#I really need to rearrange my books again

[ghoulishbuck]

Anyone else break their book buying ban? It lasted just over a week before I broke mine but now it’s back on until February… unless y��know gift cards.

[maniculum]

A post of mine from several months ago about the Perlesvaus self-rearranging forest just wandered across my dash again and made me think about it some more, so I wanted to talk about it a bit.

Perlesvaus, for those who don’t know, is a 13th-century French Arthurian romance. It’s intended to be a continuation of Chretien de Troyes’s Perceval, but it’s mostly known for being completely batshit when it’s known at all. (There’s an old book on Arthurian texts that dedicates a chapter to Perlesvaus and repeatedly speculates that the anonymous author had Something Wrong With Him. This is the longest scholarly treatment of Perlesvaus I’ve been able to find & read.)

Anyway, there’s an odd worldbuilding detail in the text. See, it’s a Thing in chivalric romances that the questing knights happen upon castles & lords & damsels & such that are unfamiliar to them and have to be explained. You know, “this is the Castle of Such-and-Such, where the local custom is as follows. It’s ruled by Lady So-and-So, whose character I shall now describe to you.”

This is a genre convention that largely goes unquestioned, but it’s a bit odd if you think about it. All these knights are at least minor nobility. They don’t know the other nobles in their region? They don’t know what castles are where? Don’t they have, like, diplomatic relations with these people or at least attend the same tournaments? Even if they’re all fully committed to the knight-errant lifestyle and don’t really engage in courtly diplomacy, you’d think they would share information with each other and get the lay of the land. But instead, to use TTRPG terminology, it’s like they’re all on a hexcrawl that was randomly generated just for them to have these adventures.

The author of Perlesvaus decides to address this. In what’s kind of a throwaway paragraph late in the text, he explains that God moves things around so knights always have new quests to do (and, presumably, is also making sure they always arrive at the right narratively-significant moment). So the reason they’re always encountering people & places they have no knowledge of is because those people & places really weren’t there yesterday. They didn’t know about the Castle of Such-and-Such because it’s normally a thousand miles away and the forest path they followed to get there used to lead somewhere else.

And I think that would be a really interesting thing to stick into a novel or a TTRPG or something. When a knight rides into the forest with the intent of Going On A Quest, at some point they go around a bend in the path, cross an invisible barrier, and wind up in the Forest of Narrative. This is a vast forest with no set geography, filled with winding paths and populated almost entirely with questing knights, damsels in search of questing knights, friendly hermits, strange creatures, and allegorical set-pieces. Then, at the narratively-appropriate time, they cross back over the invisible barrier back into the regular world, and find themselves wherever the Narrative has decided they need to be. This could be a different country, a different continent, or a different world entirely.

Whether anyone involved is actually aware that this is how it works is… optional, really. Though if it’s not a Known Phenomenon, the people whose jobs it is to handle trade & diplomacy & god forbid, maps, are going to end up tearing their hair out in frustration.

[digitaldaydreamm]

unspoken claim

rafe cameron x childhood friend!reader

| summary | rafe obviously has the keys to your house...

warnings: none! just pure fluff :)

a/n: kinda short but i hope you like it!

masterlist

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖°

The sun dipped low over the Outer Banks, spilling streaks of orange and pink across your bedroom window as you curled up on your bed, a tattered paperback forgotten in your lap. You had been home for hours—quiet, predictable hours spent catching up on assignments, rearranging your room for the third time this week, and baking just for something to do.

That’s when you heard it: the telltale jingle of keys against the front door and the muffled creak of it opening.

You didn’t bother to flinch. You didn’t need to.

Rafe never knocked.

And why would he?

He had the spare key to your house—one you’d given him years ago when you were still kids. Back then, it had made sense. You’d sworn it was just for emergencies, but Rafe Cameron being Rafe Cameron, he didn’t see boundaries the way other people did.

“You’re letting me in anytime I want, right?" he’d told you at fourteen, grinning as he spun the little silver key (with a pingu keychain of course) around his finger.

“Yo,” his voice floated lazily down the hallway as he kicked the door shut behind him. You could hear the casual thud of his boots as he crossed the living room.

“I’m in my room!” you called out, shifting slightly on your bed and dog-earing the page you weren’t reading anymore.

Rafe appeared in your doorway seconds later. He leaned one shoulder against the frame, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his joggers as he surveyed your space. Your eyes flicked up from where you sat, taking him in: dark sweatshirt hanging loose over broad shoulders, tousled blond hair that made him look boyish, that signature half-smirk sitting lazily on his face.

“You baking again?” he asked.

You sighed, tossing the book onto your pillow. “Why do you think I bake every time you’re not around?”

He arched a brow, stepping fully into your room. “Because you’re lonely without me?”

You threw a pillow at him.

He caught it effortlessly, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. The sound made something stir in your chest—not quite unfamiliar, but you’d gotten good at ignoring it.

“Kitchen smells good,” Rafe noted, dropping onto your bed like he belonged there. He flopped onto his back, folding an arm behind his head while the other flipped through the book you’d abandoned.

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, you’re welcome for the cookies on the counter.”

“Atta girl.” He flashed you a grin, only half paying attention as he thumbed through the pages. “Bet they’re for me anyway.”

You shot him a look. “They’re for me.”

“Sure they are, sweetheart.”

Rafe made himself comfortable there, feet kicked up on your neatly folded blanket, flipping pages of your book despite your protest. You were used to it—his easy presence, the way he drifted in and out of your life like he belonged in every corner of it. He never asked, never waited for an invitation.

And the thing was—you didn’t mind.

Not really.

~

[deadsetobsessions]

What Do You Have There?

A knife!

Danny plunked the butter knife in its pedestal of importance. The nice thing about having a billionaire vigilante for a... foster is the amount of money Danny was allowed to drop on his hobbies. For example, his extensive collection of souvenirs.

They're not just any old regular souvenirs. No, no, no. That would be so boring! No, these souvenirs, he obtained from the various muggings, knife fights, and various other situations he's been in ever since he was dropped ungraciously into Gotham.

The butter knife? Damian. Precocious, stabby Damian who he had startled into the stab instinct. A point of pride, really. Danny knew Damian was good at fighting! It was practically, in ghost terms, a super enthusiastic hello! Yes, the butter knife would be kept in the well lit part of the wall. Alfred had told him to stay home today to recuperate. He didn't need it, since the wound would heal in an hour or two, but he'd take staying at home any day.

A couple of hours later, well into the afternoon and right before what Danny knew to be their patrol hours, Danny had a visitor.

"Danny."

"Oh, hey, Damian! What's up?" Danny turned around to see Damian hovering awkwardly near the door.

"I am here to... check upon your wound. It is imperative that it gets proper treatment."

Ancients, Damian was exactly like those alley kids. He just ate a thesaurus instead of the drawling accent the alley kids picked up. Which meant Damian endeared himself to Danny pretty quickly. Like a little ghostling.

"Oh, I'm good. See? No blood is leaking out of the wound." Danny held up spotless bandages.

Danny watched Damian step into his haunt- his room- with a pleased hum. Damian inspected the bandages and stepped back with a sharp nod of approval. His eyes flicked to the wall that Danny was rearranging (again) and did a double take at the butter knife in the middle.

"Is that the butter knife I stabbed you with?"

"Why, yes, it is!" Danny beamed.

"Why on earth would you display that?"

"Because you stabbed me with it?"

"That makes absolutely no sense, you simpleton! When someone stabs you, stab them back!"

"That would be mean!"

Damian spluttered. Danny tugged the kid closer to the wall, cheering inwardly as Damian didn't shove him away. It might be because he was exaggeratedly wincing as he moved his "injured arm" but Danny has learned to take a win where he could find them, especially with ghosts. Not that Damian was a ghost, but he sure acted like one.

"Do you want to see my collection?"

"Your collection?"

"Yeah!" Without giving him time to answer, Danny barreled ahead. "So this is the knife you stabbed me with. Which, by the way, was an awesome show of strength and accuracy."

Damian grimaced. Danny continued blithely, secretly memorizing Damian's reactions to laugh at later.

"And this is the knife those guys stabbed me with that one time Cass found me. And this one is a bullet someone shot at me down by the docks. I think I interrupted some kind of meeting?"

Damian's jaw had a slight tick to it that would have been a baffled frown on anyone else.

"And when was this?"

"Oh, like a week ago."

"What? When did you go to the docks?!"

"At night. I couldn't sleep."

"And you went to the docks?! How did you even get there?!"

"Walked," Danny lied, like a lying liar. He floated, obviously, but none of them knew that. "Anyways, this is a law book! Someone threw it at my head!"

"Hey, guys! What're you doing?"

Danny and Damian turned around.

"Richard? Brown? What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Bruce wanted me to come back for the weekend," Dick said. Danny knew it was code for "something's going down and we need back up." Man, he still couldn't believe they didn't know he knew they were crime fighting vigilantes.

"Same!" Stephanie said. Danny was glad to see that her wounds from "cartwheeling in the manor" were healed.

"I see. Danny was showing me his collection of... objects people have used as weapons against him."

"What?!"

"Yeah!" Danny beamed, completely innocent. "Come on! I'll show you!"

With that, Danny continued to ramble. He just knew that the way Dick's and Stephanie's smiles strained would give him a good laugh for weeks to come. "And this is the glass bottle a drunk tried to shank me with in Crime Alley, and this is a knife the Red Hood himself threw at me."

Dick interrupted, face stiff. "Hood threw a knife at you?!"

"Yeah, but that was because my kids broke into his safe house and I was trying to get them to stop looting the place. And he didn't know I was a kid too, so he aimed a gun at my head. He shot at me too, but I couldn't go back to get the bullet, or else it would have joined my collection." Danny grabbed a box and shook it, metal rattling inside.

Dick smiled sweetly, Stephanie and Damian inching away from it.

"Oh, wow, I see!"

----

In his apartment, Jason shuddered. He grabbed his guns.

"Something's wrong. I just know it," he muttered to himself.

----

Danny smiled innocently as he described the horrific, near death events he got his souvenirs from.

"This is my bullet box! Man, Gotham has a lot of gun fights. I got shot so many times!" Danny complained, shaking the box like a rattling toy.

"Did you know Danny snuck out to go to the bay?" Damian snitched immediately, like a snitch.

"The Bay?! Danny! You know that's where people dump bodies, right?!" Stephanie poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, but like... I wouldn't die. And besides! I missed my friends!"

"You mean the minions you made in Crime Alley?" Steph asked. Danny pouted, eyeing the way Dick's gaze roved over his souvenirs and paling the more he realized how often Danny "got hurt."

Damian bumped a shoulder against Dick's arm. Danny returned to the conversation.

"If anything, I'm their minion." He said, remembering the times the Alley kids sent him on food runs.

"Fear Danny, the overlord of street rats."

Danny snorted. And- "Oh! Yeah, there was like a weird owl looking guy? And then they stabbed me with a finger and I kept it because woah, cool talon looking thing, right? And then they threw a bunch of those tiny knives at me? And then they just kind of vanished? Gotham is so weird."

And now, with all of them pale and stressed out of their minds, Danny swung a devastating blow called guilt trip.

"And that's the batarangs!" Three heads swung over to the line of batarangs. "Those vigilantes kept throwing them at me! One of them even hit me in the arm. Those things are sharp, man."

"Uh. Which ones?" Stephanie asked.

"Hm?" Danny hummed obliviously.

"Do you know which vigilantes?"

"Oh, it was like... the purple one. And the sword one? And like the one with the yellow insignia in the middle. And... all of them, I think? Except for signal. That guy's cool."

Stephanie and Damian had matching veiled looks of guilt. Dick shot them a sharp look. Danny decided to deal the last bit of damage to Dick.

"I'm glad you guys are way less stabby than the general Gotham public though, butter knife incident aside. At least I don't have to worry about you guys getting into danger, right? If you guys got hurt like my family did... I don't know..."

Danny smiled-squinted at them, channeling Cujo at his cutest and saddest: when he doesn't get to eat off of Danny's plate. So, pretty sad and pathetic.

"Uh, yeah." Dick said, guilt splayed all over his face. "Alfred said dinner was almost ready."

"Yes," Damian cleared his throat, looking away. "We shall partake in Pennyworth's hard work."

"Ahaha!" Stephanie laughed, nervously. "Welp, let's go bother Tim!"

Falling into step behind them, Danny grinned.

[cupcakeeees]

“She exists now only in my memory..”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a glimpse into an F1 racer’s guarded heart.

word count: 1k

Dear Diary,

Year 1: The Beginning

The first time I met her, it was late summer in Monaco. I was standing by the marina, pretending not to be as lost as I felt. The sun was setting behind the yachts, and the air smelled like salt and fresh starts.

That’s when I saw her. She wasn’t like anyone else. She had this way of existing - like the world bent toward her without her even realizing it.

She’d dropped her book while passing and I’d instinctively bent down to grab it.

Our hands brushed for a split second.

“Thanks,” she’d said, her voice soft but certain. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say, so I just blurted out, “What’s the book?”

That question turned into an hour-long conversation, sitting on the edge of the dock, our legs dangling over the water. She teased me for not having read her favorite author; I challenged her to name three F1 drivers.

“Bet you can’t even name me,” I’d joked.

She’d tilted her head, her smile mischievous. “I know who you are, Norris!”

Year 3: A Year Apart

I didn’t see her again for over a year.

Monaco wasn’t home anymore - it was just a place I passed through. Racing had taken me everywhere but where I wanted to be.

When I spotted her at a party, it felt like déjà vu. She stood across the room, glass in hand, laughing at some joke I hadn’t told.

I thought about walking up to her right away, but something held me back.

She looked .. different.

Like the pieces of her had rearranged in ways I didn’t recognize.

Finally, she noticed me. Her smile was the same, but her hug felt hesitant, like she wasn’t sure where I fit in her life anymore.

“You’ve been busy,” she’d said, her tone light but her eyes heavy.

“Yeah,” I replied, though I didn’t know if she meant the races or the distance I’d put between us.

We exchanged numbers again, promising to “catch up soon.” But soon turned into months, then silence.

Year 5: Everything and Nothing

That summer in London was everything I’d ever wanted - and nothing like I thought it would be.

We’d spent weeks wrapped in each other’s lives, her laughter filling the quiet moments I didn’t know I’d needed. She made me feel human again.

One night, as we sat on her balcony, a bottle of wine between us she leaned her head on my shoulder.

“What’s next for you?” she asked.

“Another race,” I said with a shrug. “And after that, another one.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time, just traced the rim of her glass with her finger. Finally, she asked, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to stop?”

“Stop?” I repeated, as if the word itself didn’t make sense. “I don’t know how to.”

She sighed, pulling away slightly. “I know.”

That was the beginning of the end. By August, she was packing up her life, and I was leaving for yet another circuit.

She didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t ask her to come with me.

I think we both knew how it would go.

Year 8: The Last Goodbye

It was an accident- running into her in Amsterdam. I was at a café, waiting for my coffee, when I heard her voice behind me. I knew it was her before I even turned around.

She looked radiant, her happiness lighting up the room in a way that made my chest ache.

“Lando!” she exclaimed, her surprise genuine. “It’s been ages.”

I laughed nervously, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. You look good.”

“So do you.”

We talked for a while - small talk that felt too big and too small all at once. She mentioned her partner casually, as if it wouldn’t crush me to hear it.

“He’s great,” she said, her smile soft. “He makes me really happy.”

“That’s good,” I replied, though my voice cracked slightly.

When she stood to leave, she hesitated, her hand brushing my arm. “See you around, Lando.”

“Yeah, you too!”

And then she was gone, walking out into the rainy street, leaving me staring after her like I’d lost her all over again.

The Present:

Years later, I found out she was gone. A friend told me, so casually it felt cruel. An accident, they said.

It didn’t feel real - it still doesn’t.

Sometimes I think about the little things that linger: the messages I can’t delete, the book she left on my shelf in Monaco, the songs she used to hum when she thought no one was listening.

Sometimes, I dream about her.

In the dreams, she’s always laughing but always walking away from me.

I wake up reaching for something I’ll never hold again.

She’s gone. But she lives now, only in my memory.

So yes, dear diary.. I often go and sit by the marina in Monaco, the same spot where we first met.

The sunset dips below the horizon, and for a moment, I swear I can hear her laugh again.

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling Luffy about why you don’t like Shanks…

“Why are you always so upset with Shanks?” Luffy wondered.

You brushed the young boys damp curls and twirled a finger around each strand to define the shape.

“He and I used to travel the seas, you know? We fought sea beasts and all kinds of pirates together.”

Luffy leaned forward. “Really? Was it cool?”

“Very cool and dangerous.” You reminded him with a small hair ruffle to set him back on the chair properly. “We were caught in an ambush and I was injured. Shanks brought me home, promising that we’d set off again after I was healed.”

Luffy grew excited. Maybe if Shanks came for you, he could also be taken along for the journey.

“Are you healed? Do you know when he’ll take you?” He asked.

You frowned and replied rather bitterly. “I was healed up over four years ago.”

Shanks had the audacity to pay a visit these last few months and spend time with Luffy while pretending like nothing had happened. It infuriated you and Luffy clearly caught wind of it.

There was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted up to see Makino standing there with a smile for Luffy.

“The ship has made port.” She told the boy.

Luffy jumped off the seat and ran for the exit. “Sorry Y/n, I have to go!”

You sighed at his speed hoping that he’d be careful on his way to the docks.

Makino looked at you while you put the chair away. “Are you coming as well?” She asked and when you didn’t reply she continued. “He’s been asking for you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Tell him I-”

“I’m not telling him you drowned again. You’ll have to face him one way or another.” Makino said and then left to resume her duties at the bar.

Honestly, you’d rather not seek out the pirate who abandoned you. Let him have his fun. Yes, you couldn’t avoid him forever but you could reduce the hours in his presence.

And so that’s what you set out to do, you walked wherever the straw hat wasn’t. If he was at Party’s Bar, you were at home. If he was at the docks, you were by the furthest windmill.

You last saw the red-haired pirate downing a bottle of booze at the bar with his little curly haired shadow on the chair beside him. While they were busy, you decided to rearrange the furniture in your home finally able to tend to things that had been long neglected thanks to Luffy always running in and out of trouble.

Fixated on stacking books by the corner of the front room, you missed the soft padding of footsteps coming to a halt by the open door.

“I heard you ‘drowned’.” A voice said, sending chills down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when Luffy told me that you did his hair this morning.”

Shanks mused at you as he stood by the threshold of your door.

Damn, when did he leave the bar? You rolled your eyes and then turned around to place a blanket into a wooden drawer near to where he stood.

“Odd.” You hummed. “I thought you would have welcomed a lie? Aren’t you filled with them or is that only when they’re directed at me?”

Shanks stepped into the room and took your hand to stop you from walking to the next task. He knew exactly what you were referring to. For months you both had avoided the topic by the way you dodged him but this was finally the opening he needed to clear the air.

“I never lied. I fully intended to come back here in three months. But each danger I faced, every terror that sailed into our path and all I could see was the risk of losing you.”

You scoffed at him. Captain Shanks of the Red-haired Pirates was scared? You were surprised his nose hadn’t grown.

Not wanting to talk further, you attempted to leave the house entirely when the man who stole your heart caught you once more.

“Hey,” Shanks took the reins and guided you to the wall, gently bracing you against it. He was tired of the anger of the anger in your eyes, only wanting you to see him like you once did. His hands settled in their rightful place on your waist.

“There are very few things that I am afraid of - but from that list, the fear of losing you is at the very top.”

As you stared in his warm eyes, you were reminded of a saying he often said aboard calmer seas and private moments.

Shanks gazed back at your face, the one he was deprived of seeing each day. He brought one hand to rest against your chest and raised your own to sit above his own. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a delicate kiss before pulling away gently.

“I’m not a selfish man by nature.” He whispered. “But for your life and your love, I can be.”

~ More imagines here ~

[rose24207]

Nerd in love

Summary: A kind-hearted cheerleader befriends the school’s shy, bullied nerd, standing up for him and forming a heartfelt bond that defies expectations and whispers.

Genre: Nerdy!Lando, Au, fluff

TW: None!

A/N: lando with glasses has my heart!!! So why not make a cute story out of it where it’s set in a school and he’s being bullied? More of that? Let me know!! Also do you guys think I should leave space between the paragraphs like before or should I make the space smaller like rn?? English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

You’re standing at your locker, rearranging the books you’ll need for the day, when you see him again. Lando Norris, with his glasses slipping down his nose and his arms awkwardly full of notebooks, is shuffling through the hallway.

He’s a fixture of the school, a quiet presence often overlooked or, worse, openly ridiculed. You’ve noticed him more than most people—how he keeps his head down, how he seems to carry the weight of the world in his backpack, how his hands twitch like he’s always ready to solve some impossible equation.

But today, you notice something else: the group of basketball players tailing him.

“Oi, Norris!” one of them calls, his voice carrying easily over the chatter of the hallway. “What’s in the backpack? A rocket ship or something?”

The others laugh, their jeering voices ringing out as Lando quickens his pace.

Your stomach twists. You hate this. You hate the way people think it’s okay to pick on him just because he’s quiet, just because he doesn’t fit into their narrow idea of what’s “cool.”

Before you know it, you’re moving.

“Hey!” you call, your voice sharp enough to cut through the laughter.

The group turns to you, their smug expressions faltering.

“What’s your problem?” you ask, stepping between them and Lando.

“Relax, Y/N,” one of them says, holding up his hands as if to feign innocence. “We’re just messing around.”

“Yeah, well, maybe don’t,” you snap.

Behind you, Lando looks stunned. He’s frozen in place, his books still clutched to his chest, his wide eyes darting between you and the boys.

“Come on, guys,” you say, your tone leaving no room for argument. “Leave him alone.”

The group mutters something under their breath, but they disperse quickly, clearly unwilling to argue with you.

When you turn back to Lando, he’s staring at you like you’ve just performed some kind of miracle.

“Are you okay?” you ask, softening your tone.

“Uh… yeah,” he stammers, his face bright red. “Thanks.”

You smile at him. “Here, let me help you with those.”

Before he can protest, you take half the books from his arms. They’re heavier than you expected, and you can’t help but laugh. “What are you carrying in here? A small library?”

“Kind of,” he mutters, looking at the floor.

You lead him down the hallway, ignoring the whispers that follow you. You know what people are saying—they’re wondering why you, the head cheerleader, the “golden girl” of the school, are talking to him. But you don’t care.

Lando doesn’t deserve the way people treat him. And if being kind to him makes people talk, so be it.

When lunchtime rolls around, you spot Lando sitting alone at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. He’s hunched over a notebook, scribbling equations with the kind of intensity most people reserve for exams.

You grab your tray and make a beeline for him.

“Hey, Lando!” you say, sliding into the seat across from him.

He looks up, startled. “Oh. Hi.”

“Mind if I sit here?”

He blinks, clearly confused. “Uh… sure?”

You smile, setting your tray down. “Thanks. The cafeteria’s way too loud today.”

It’s not, really. But you don’t tell him that.

As you start eating, you notice how tense he looks, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You don’t eat lunch?” you ask, nodding toward his empty side of the table.

“I usually eat later,” he says quietly.

You frown. “Why? The food’s not that bad.”

He shrugs, not meeting your eyes. “It’s quieter then.”

Your heart aches a little at that. You can’t imagine what it’s like to feel so out of place that you’d rather avoid the busiest part of the day.

“Well, it’s not quiet now,” you say, grinning. “But at least you’ve got company.”

Lando glances at you, his expression a mix of confusion and something else—gratitude, maybe?

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Thanks.”

Of course, it doesn’t take long for the cool kids to notice.

“Look at that,” one of them whispers, loud enough for you to hear. “Y/N and Lando. That’s… unexpected.”

You roll your eyes but don’t say anything. Lando, however, seems to shrink into himself, his shoulders hunching as he stares down at his notebook.

“Hey,” you say gently, reaching across the table to touch his arm. “Don’t let them get to you.”

He looks up, his eyes wide. “I’m used to it.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have to be,” you say firmly.

Lando doesn’t respond, but the look in his eyes lingers with you for the rest of the day.

It becomes a routine. Every afternoon after school, you meet Lando in the library for tutoring sessions.

At first, it’s all business. He’s focused on explaining physics concepts to you, his voice steady and calm as he works through equations and diagrams. But as the days go by, he starts to relax. He cracks a few jokes, smiles a little more.

And you notice things about him you hadn’t before.

You notice the way his eyes light up when he talks about something he’s passionate about. You notice the way he fidgets with his pen when he’s deep in thought.

You notice the way his smile—small and hesitant—can brighten your entire day.

“You’re really good at this,” you tell him one day, after he’s finished explaining a particularly tricky concept.

“Good at what?”

“Explaining stuff. You make it seem easy.”

Lando shrugs, his cheeks turning pink. “It’s just physics.”

“It’s more than that,” you say, smiling. “You’re really smart, Lando. And patient. Not everyone can do what you do.”

He looks at you like you’ve just said something unbelievable.

“Thanks,” he says softly.

Of course, people start to talk.

“Y/N and Lando?”

“Why is she spending so much time with him?”

“She’s probably just being nice. There’s no way she actually likes him.”

You hear the whispers in the hallways, in the locker room, in the cafeteria. But you don’t let them bother you.

Lando, however, isn’t as good at ignoring them.

One day, as you’re walking to the library together, he hesitates.

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this,” he says.

“Do what?”

“Be seen with me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“Lando,” you say firmly, “I don’t care what people think. And neither should you.”

He looks at you, his expression conflicted.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asks after a moment.

“Because you deserve it,” you say simply.

The turning point comes one day in the cafeteria.

You’re sitting with Lando at your usual table when one of the basketball players saunters over, a smirk on his face.

“Well, well,” he says, looking between you and Lando. “Isn’t this cozy?”

Lando stiffens, his grip on his fork tightening.

“What do you want, Jake?” you ask, your voice cold.

“Nothing,” Jake says, holding up his hands. “Just wondering what the head cheerleader sees in the nerd brigade over here.”

“More than I see in you,” you say without missing a beat.

The cafeteria erupts into laughter, and Jake’s smirk falters.

“Come on, Y/N,” he says, his tone defensive. “We’re just joking.”

“Maybe you should work on your material, then,” you say, turning back to your lunch.

Jake mutters something under his breath and walks away, and you can feel the tension in Lando’s shoulders slowly easing.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“Anytime,” you say, smiling at him.

Later that day, as you’re walking out of school together, Lando is unusually quiet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask, nudging him gently.

He hesitates for a moment before speaking.

“Why do you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“Stand up for me. Spend time with me. Be nice to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask, genuinely confused.

“Because I’m… me,” he says, gesturing to himself.

You stop walking, turning to face him.

“Lando,” you say softly, “you’re one of the smartest, kindest people I’ve ever met. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I like spending time with you. You’re my friend.”

The word feels too small to describe what you feel, but it’s the truth.

Lando looks at you, his eyes searching yours for any hint of insincerity. He doesn’t find any.

“Thanks,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smile at him. “Anytime.”

Over time, the whispers fade. People move on to other gossip, other dramas. But your friendship with Lando remains.

And if, every now and then, you catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, you don’t say anything.

Because deep down, you know he’s the kind of person who will always surprise you. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thank you for reading!

[supercap2319]

"You're seriously studying?"

Y/N turned to the sound of the voice and found Clark Kent standing in the doorway of the now empty classroom. He looked like Clark Kent. And he even sounded like Clark Kent, but he wasn't dressed like Clark Kent. The farm boy traded in his jeans and flannel for leather and Armani suits.

"Clark, hey. I'm just studying for the history test tomorrow. I think I've got most of the dates memorized, but I'm still having trouble between the Cold War and the Battle of Trenton." Y/N said as Clark took a seat next to him, glanced at his books, and wrinkled his nose. "That's boring. Let's go do something fun."

"Like what? Have another basketball game with Pete on the courts? Help Chloe rearrange her bedroom again?"

"I was thinking we'd go to a bar. Maybe to a club and find some nice chicks to hang out with."

"Okay, who are you, and what planet are you from? In what universe does Clark Kent want to go clubbing and drinking?" Y/N asked.

"The kind who's tired of living the quiet life of a bumbling farm boy and is ready to explore the real world. All the best things in it. Come on. I bet we could get some action from some really hot girls." Clark nudged Y/N, who blushed hard.

"As fun as girls sound, I have to study."

"Oh, come, Y/N. Don't be so uptight." Clark said. "If you need to, I can help loosen you out. In more ways than one." He smirks. "Okay, did you just try to make an innuendo at me? Since when are you into guys? I thought you only had eyes for Lana."

Clark frowns at the mention of Lana's name. It's true that Clark couldn't get within five feet of Lana Lang without becoming a freakshow of clumsiness, but as of recently, Clark's been really cocky and confident. "Well, there's plenty of others to fool around with than Smallville's resident fairy princess. Probably give up easier and much better in the sack, to I'll bet." Clark grins.

"I don't know." Y/N said.

"Come on, Y/N, imagine it. Dancing. Drinking. Getting your dick sucked. It's pure unadulterated ecstacy." Clark said.

"If I say yes, will you let me finish my studying?"

"Sure thing, handsome." Clark winks

.

[pasdasin]

Ktober day 4 - prostitution - Batman x reader

an: Sorry for the late post but I should be all caught up now! As you guys know this is in collab with my two irls @fuckmachine42069 and @honeybeedrabble. be sure to check our their pages

cw: prostitution, cussing, batman is mean :(, porn without plot, this is more like a drabble lol, probs more lmk if I missed anything

read under the cut

———

“Are you feeling lonely again bats?” You asked him after taking a long drag from your cigarette. The fearsome dark knight was your best client. You could expect him to come to you at least once a week, mainly when the robins go on patrol. He merely grunted at you before leading you to the motel room he booked. “What would the people of gotham do when they hear about what their favorite vigilante does in the dark?” You giggled going to sit on the bed. 

He went to remove his cape and set it aside. Pulling out a stack of money he put it on the side table.

“Just the usual.”

“Who are you, really?” He stared at you as you put out your cigarette. “Okay so we aren’t that close yet”

“Just make me cum”

----

Your moans filled the room as he thrusted into your tight cunt harshly. Gripping the bed sheets, your eyes rolled back.

“Fuck bats-” He grunted, slowly loosing himself into your pussy. 

“It’s like your made for me” His grip on your ass tightened causing you to loud moaner. His tactical pants hung at his knees while the rest of his costume remained in place. His leather gloves dug into your skin perfectly. 

The sounds of sex filled the room as you thrusted harder into you. 

“Please- I need to-” You felt his hand gripped your neck, putting pressure on your jugular. 

“You’ll cum when I say.” He slowed his grip on you and you let out an even louder moan. Your vision was starting to blur and you felt as though you were gonna pass out, when sundely he let go. You gasped for air as you fought back moans, trying to recapture your senses. His thrusts got sloppier and before you could stablize yourself, his cum filled your cunt. He fucked you through his orgasm before he slowed to a stop. Slowly he pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. 

“Bats-”

“Bruce”

“What?”

“My name is Bruce. Now lay back” You turned to lay on your back as he moved your legs over his shoulders. Without warning, he licked a long stripe up your pussy. His toungue spread his cum all over your pussy, making you moan even louder than before. He started to lick circles over your clit. You moved your hands to his cowl and gripped it. He moaned into you, causing vibrations to move through your body.

“Bruce I’m gonna cum.” He only moved more intensely against your clit, sending you over the edge. Your thighs clamped around his head as your back arched off the bed. His cum mixed with your own filled his mouth ashe finally moved away from you. Your chest rised up and down with heavy breaths as he cleaned himself off. 

“Why would you tell me your name?”

“Your my favorite whore. Take my money and stop getting personal.” He pulled up his pants and rearranged his costume. Without another word, he left you in the room to care for yourself. Rolling over you looked at the cash he left and smiled to yourself at the note he left.

Here is my personal cell. Use for phone sex only. 

[alsoprettyinpink]

Holy shit I can’t believe I finally finished this. It’s been a while and I preface this by saying I’m not a writer. After watching Deadpool Wolverine, I realized that I needed to come back to tumblr to share in the fandom that is Wolverine/Logan. Not knowing all that I was getting into. I found some amazing fan fiction writers that also reminded me of my younger days and I figured I’d try it again. So here’s my filthy writing. Big thanks to @silverskyeline for honestly giving me the courage to post this. I nervous. Please comment if you liked it or whatever. I’ll add I did not edit the smut cause I got silly embarrassed. Sorry in advance. I’ll do better I promise.

Logan/Wolverine X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.6K

Tags: MDNI 18+, smut after the fluff I guess, P in V, unprotected (this is fiction so be safe), he's never pulling out, oral (F receiving), idk, bathroom and classroom sessions,

Summary: You are a new teacher at Xavier's institute, and you find your neighbor teacher, Logan, pretty attractive. There's a flyer for chaperones needed for the homecoming dance. Can you muster up the courage to ask him? What's the spark in his eye? Is it...lust?

A/N: During the dance scene, I highly recommend listening to Benson Boone’s Beautiful Things. Enjoy.

It was finally fall. One of your favorite seasons. The weather was finally cool enough for you to leave your hair down. Cool breezes dance through the changing foliage around the campus. The orange, red and some yellow ginkgo leaves flutter as you and many others return to campus. A fall greeting from mother nature herself.

You were a teacher for Charles this semester after he somewhat guilted you into doing it. You weren’t sure if this was going to be the right fit for you. The refreshing air however, made you forget that was even a thought. Instead it made you feel confident. He asked if you could teach art. You weren’t sure as to all that would entail, you just figured you could just be the cool art teacher. You had the look down; ponytail, large glasses and a patient attitude. You knew a change was in your future, whether it was your need to constantly reinvent yourself or just tired of the same routine. The season was ready for you.

You set up in your classroom, knowing that the history teacher was on the other side of the wall. Mr. Logan Howlett. You were unsure how much he really cared about teaching, you were unsure where he stood anywhere. A man of few words and grunts. You heard that he’d been alive for almost 200 years, so he knew the ins and outs of history. The truth about events that hadn’t been erased or only told from the victor’s perspective. You chuckled at the idea of his gruff and blunt perspective. Thinking of how he taught his class. How intimidating he must have come across.

You had met him a few times around the campus, knowing he was The Wolverine; one of the X-men. Feisty, brooding, no nonsense kinda guy…your thoughts trailed as you found yourself thinking of him more fondly. He was such an attractive man. His dark features, his muscular build. When he would walk by in the mornings before class, cup of coffee in hand, he’d wave and give you a faint smile...maybe it was a grimace. There were times that you didn’t see him, but he always saw you. You would be rearranging your classroom or you would be smiling reading a book, but he’d see you.

“Mr. Howlett.” You greeted, meeting him in the teacher’s lounge. You were a bit startled seeing him up close and personal, but the lure of coffee was too strong. He grunted as per usual going through the cupboard trying to find his favorite mug. “Call me Logan.” He spoke.

“If you don’t mind, on campus I have to keep it professional, Mr. Howlett. Maybe if I see you outside of school, I’ll drop the honorifics.” You responded smiling although you were nervous. You couldn’t help it. That was just how you operated at work; professional. He grunted again, still searching for a specific mug. “Ugh,” he muttered to himself. “This will just have to do.” He picked one that said, “Without Art the Earth Would Just Be ‘eh’” with rainbows going around the image of earth.

You chuckled seeing such a burly man with a silly cup. “What?” He snapped turning to you, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing so he could hurry up and end this torment.

“Sorry…That’s one of mine that I brought. It’s a silly one.” You find another one you brought, pulling it out of the cabinet. It was a rather large, light brown and dark brown body with a small sculpted face. It’s nose was pointed with beady eyes and large fat cheeks.

“What the fuck is that supposed to be?” He asked, concerned.

You looked at the mug again, smiling because you were sure it was a gift from someone, “I think it’s a hedgehog.” You responded, chuckling again just looking at its little stupid smiling face brought you so much joy.

The coffee was done brewing and you were positive so was this special interaction with Xavier’s finest teacher.

“It’s like a 20oz so it gets the job done.” you added, beckoning Logan to go first. He leaned with his hip to the counter, arms crossed, “Naw, you first darlin’.”

Darlin’?

You weren’t ready for that. You could feel the flush of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. You were hoping he wouldn’t notice. Quickly pouring some for yourself, you offered to pour his cup too. He thanked you, while you opened the fridge for creamer.

A flyer tagged to the fridge caught your eye. “Oh there’s a homecoming dance coming up? That’s so cute!” You exclaimed. “They'll probably need chaperones.” You muttered to yourself.

Your mind reminisced about your high school dances and how much fun you had at them. Hearing stories of others drinking or fooling around as high school kids tend to do, you sighed. Logan looked over at you drinking his black coffee. “You’re not thinking of going to that are you?” His brow was arched high as he spoke in disgust, his voice rough as if just being alive was torment.

“I’ve never been a chaperone before, but I just remembered how much I loved going to my high school dances. I went to every one!”

Your cheeriness seemed to amuse him and probably confuse him too. You couldn’t tell by looking at him, but the fact that he was still entertaining a conversation was making your heart flutter. Anxious, you asked him if he would make an appearance, already knowing his answer.

“Hell no! I ain’t trying to be here around those kids longer than I have to be.” He grabbed his (your) mug and headed back to his room, “See ya later, have a good day.” He added raising his hand up as he left.

You swallowed the dry lump that had formed in your throat. Your hands were a bit shaky, as you took a sip of that liquid gold. You awaited for the caffeine to fuel your body as it coursed through your veins. However, you immediately grimaced spitting the coffee back into your oversized cartoon mug. “He made jet fuel.” No amount of sugar or creamer would make that taste good. You sighed, disappointedly, and you poured it out and the pot to make a new one.

——————————————————————

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. The same basic conversations with your neighbor teacher, Logan. You sighed out of frustration not really sure how you wanted to continue whatever this was. We’re you friends? We’re you just coworkers? You had some flirty banter with him, but you didn’t want to make it more than what it was. You also didn’t know too much about him still, despite your small talk efforts. He did converse with you despite you feeling like you were the main one engaged in said conversation. What you didn’t know was that he would watch you teach your class at first thinking that these kids needed something more important than art. However, he had to eat his words when one of them bested him during a training session, using something they had learned in your class. Sure you taught painting and other art forms, but he didn’t realize that creativity could make the kids turn into a modern day MacGuyver.

During a class, you were teaching about art in advertisements, you saw your students eyes glancing over to the window of the door. You turned your head and there he was. His eyes flinched as he tried to play cool, but you think he didn’t expect you to see him. “Ok, read this page and the next!” You opened your door and quietly closed it behind you.

“Are you ok, Mr. Howlett? Do you need something?” You asked in a slight whisper, Logan seemed tensed. He acted like you had caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to be doing, although he seemed so cool about it though. You couldn’t really read him well. “Uh…no, I’m fine. Just… admiring your class. I’ll tell you later.” And he walked off with a turn of his heel. You watched him walk away like a sad puppy being left at home. Your eyes drank up his frame staring at his dark hair, red flannel, and those luscious jeans. Damn did they fit him well. You went back into your class expecting silence but they were awaiting your return.

“OOOoooOOO!” The class exclaimed. “Do you liiiiikkeee him?” One of the girl students mocked teasingly. Snapping back to reality, you whipped your head around, waving them off. “Mr. Howlett is a friend, Sarah. You wouldn’t like it if I asked you in front of everyone if you like Roberto?”

“Ew! I don’t like him!” And then the class erupted in laughter.

“Settle! Settle! Or I will give you a pop quiz!” A hush fell over the class.

“I’ll raise the anti!” Another student snarked. “I dare you to ask him to the homecoming dance. If you do, regardless of his answer, we’ll take your pop quiz!”

These little instigators!

“Fine, I‘ll ask him! Pop quiz. Books closed! Take out a piece of paper and something to write with.”

——————————————

After school, you decided to stay after a bit to get some grading done. You were sitting at your desk rubbing your temples. You could feel a headache coming down. Getting teased and called out by teenagers was not on your bingo card. Surprisingly enough, a good portion of them did really well on their pop quiz and it made you so proud of them.

The hedgehog mug was placed on your desk by a strong hand and a loud thud. Looking up, you saw Logan. His expression stern and void of any joy “Oh! Thanks.”

“It’s water.” He said bluntly. “You look like you got a headache comin’ on, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drink water…” and he dropped some small brown pills next to you.

You groaned and took a sip. You hated the fact that he knew you well enough that he knew you were dehydrated and most likely over caffeinated.

“Are you really gonna go to that stupid dance next week?” He asked, his brows slightly furrowed. His usual gravely voice tinged with annoyance.

“Yeah,” you started putting the mug down on your desk, “You wanna go with me?” You asked not missing a beat. This way it was honoring your promise to your students while still feeling like a cool girl. Not a woman who was nervous about asking her coworker to the high school homecoming dance. And then if he said ‘no’ your feelings wouldn't be hurt cause you didn't put in any effort. No build up, no romanticism, just two friends talking.

He winced as if he was in physical pain. He ran his fingers back through his dark brown hair sighing heavily.

“Fine. I'll go with ya.” He responded flatly, folding his arms. Your brain had already processed a ‘No’. The hard pulse of your heart beating heavy in your chest, the dryness of your eyes as they widen when you realize, actually, what he had said.

“I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to.” You felt as if your heart was coming out of your throat. You swallowed hard hoping he would ignore your hint of ‘you-can-reconsider-your-decision’.

“Naw princess, I'm a man of my word. I'll go with you…ugh,” he shifted weight to his hip. “Just don't expect me to dance or nothin’.”

Princess?!

“Cool. Got it. You'll be a beautiful wallflower.” You chuckled, really still trying to play cool, sipping the water he got for you trying not to choke.

He can read you like a book.

He cleared his throat, “Mm, I don't think I'll compare to how pretty you'll prolly look.”

Is….is HE blushing???!! Wait…am I blushing?? Fuckfuckfuck.

You cleared your throat, looking back at the stack of papers in front of you. “Well, I'll leave it to ya. I hope you feel better, Ms. Y/N.”

You smiled to yourself as he was already walking away. “Thanks Mr. Howlett.”

——————

You were getting ready at the institute being that it was easier than going home, getting ready and then coming all the way back. You couldn’t believe that Logan was willing to go to the dance with you. You were pretty sure it was a pity agreement or something. You knew he didn’t really want to go but he agreed to go with you…why? You finished doing your makeup in the mirror, made cute faces, sexy faces, pouty faces and smiling faces at yourself, just to make sure you knew how you looked.

You brushed out your dress. It was a wine colored, A-line dress with a boat neck and short puffy lantern sleeves. A slit off to the side to show a little leg, but still modest. Your hair was down, with one side pinned back to keep out of your face. Your earrings were small dangles and sparkly to catch the light and a simple necklace for a clean look.

“You can do this!” You said placing both hands on the sink staring deeply at yourself in the mirror. “He's just a man… A mutant man, but a man nonetheless. You're just friends, nothing more. This isn't a date or anything. Just friendly co-workers going to chaperone a school dance that you both work at…”

Fuck I'm anxious. Maybe a little gummy to ease my nerves.

You dug into your tiny purse for that last 1:1 gummy that always got you in the best mood. Relaxed and not stressed…and maybe just a little bit high. But not that they would notice.

You walked out of the bathroom finally. You and Logan didn't really communicate about when and where you all would meet up or if you would just meet there. You wished there was alcohol served for the adults.

You checked your phone and didn't see any messages from him or calls. Let's be real, if he called you'd be hesitant to answer.

You finally had to admit it to yourself that you liked him. You were crushing on him hard as if you were a teen again. He was all you ever thought about, his blips in the teacher's lounge or when he would nod at you through the door made your heart swell.

Sometimes during your planning period you could hear him teaching. You had grown fond of listening to his voice. One particular time, your imagination had taken you through constant interactions, conversations, situations…some verged on dirty. You could hear him talking to you. His strong hands gripping your waist and pulling you close to him. His lips close to yours, as his one hand leaves your waist and cups your face. you're both taking shallow breaths with anticipation of the next move. Frozen in place, all you can do is watch him glide through air as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheek. It was almost like you were holding your breath in this fantasy as he pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss. His grip around your waist; possessive. Other thoughts, he had you bent over his desk as he took you from behind. His relentless thrusts into your tight, wet, pussy as you moaned his name and grasped at papers. You remembered gasping coming back to reality and uncrossing your legs and adjusting yourself in your chair. You heard him sniffing on the other side of the wall. You turned slightly looking at your chalkboard knowing he couldn't see you…but you felt like you could feel his intense gaze on you through the wall.

You found yourself standing outside his classroom now. Clutching on to your purse, you tried to imagine him teaching. Really trying to ignore the desk and papers that were neatly stacked upon it. His half-lidded hazel eyes on you, paired with a devilish smirk, papers flying everywhere.

“Oh, you're here.” His gravelly voice startled and pulled you from the depths of your imagination.

“Sorry we never discussed where to meet, but I had a feelin’ You'd be… here.” His pause made you notice his eyes flickered up and down. It made your cheeks flush and your heart flutter.

Taking in his attire, you were thoroughly impressed with how well he cleaned up; He looked so good. Black shoes, jeans, a leather belt, a white button up, and a brown corduroy blazer. The need to speak was needed, for you felt too much time had passed since the last word was said.

“No, I'm sorry. I should have expressed where-”

“You look beautiful.” He interjected softly. You could tell that doling compliments wasn’t his strongest suit but he did mean what he said.

You felt heat rise into your cheeks. “Ah, thank you, Mr. Howlett. You look great too…as always.”

”Please call me Logan tonight.“ he rasped, staring you down. His gaze never leaving yours. You felt your heart speed up in your chest, and a twinge in your interior.

He took a step closer to you, a gasp wanting to escape your lips, but didn’t. His lips parted, as the back of his hand tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. His calloused fingertips unraveled around your ear down to your jaw and making their way to your chin. Time seemed to have stopped for you. You could hear your rushed pulse vibrating in your ear. Your eyes darted back and forth between his. Your mouth parched, lips parted, and your breath caught in your lungs, as he caressed your face.

“Hey guys! The chaperones are gathering now to usher in students if you want to make your way over!” Scott yelled from the other end of the hallway. If anyone was going to ruin a moment it was always, always going to be Scott. Immediately, you took a step back, grounding yourself. The trance breaking. You could see the annoyance trickling across his face as he turned to face Scott.

“Yeah we’ll be headin’ over soon, Summers.” He yelled back over, still mentally fixed on you. Your own`` mind raced with thoughts of how you were going to restart this. You wanted him to kiss you, if…that's what he was trying to do.

He cleared his throat, holding his arm out for you to hold on to. “Shall we, doll?” His expression changed to a relaxed smile. His gruff exterior seemed to still be present to others, but when he was around you, he seemed relaxed. You placed your arm around his trying not to smile too hard. You didn’t want to lose your cool. His arms were strong as he held onto you. A part of you wanted your ankle to give out just so he could catch you, and then maybe he’d finished what he started before Scott interjected. But you couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t allow yourself to do that. A smile pulled at the corners of your lips, hoping he didn’t notice.

When you both walked into the cafeteria the Student Government Association had done such an excellent job decorating and preparing for this. They had streamers and iridescent decorations that seemed to sparkle as they hung from the ceiling. Towards the back there was a punch table which is where you and Logan headed over to. You took it upon yourself to monitor the punch table to ensure they didn’t run out of cups or none of the students spiked it.

As the doors opened and the students came in, your heart swelled seeing them all in their lovely clothes. To be young again, a sigh escaped your lips, thinking of the times when you were in the same situation as them. The heat of the dance floor, sometimes the heartbreak of seeing your crush dancing with another, the wallflowers, the anxiety of asking someone to dance with you. Honestly, you loved all the feelings. These kids were special. They dealt with a different type of prejudice, but at least in this moment, none of that mattered. Just having a good fun time with friends.

The music however had much to be desired. The kids were grinding on each other and kinda made you feel a touch uncomfortable, but it all looked safe and everyone looked like they were having fun. Logan came over by you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He took a swig of something out of the corner of your eye. Here you were again, heart racing from the thought of him touching you. He hadn’t touched you until today, but you never wanted him to stop. Taking a double take and noticing his flask, you quickly found yourself facing him,as if you were trying to block others from seeing what he was doing. Without consciously noticing, he hooked his arm around your waist pulling you ever so close to him. You moved with the gesture, not registering in your mind, as if you have done this before and it’s normal for the two of you to be so close. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of his lips while his heavy lidded eyes stayed on you. His brow arched as you spoke.

“Mr. Howlett!” You whispered, “Are you drinking alcohol?” A grin broke through upon his lips. “You’re one to talk doll.” He whispered right back. He got really close to your face, your heart beating almost out of your chest. He was so close, he smelled so nice you could feel yourself becoming a bit dizzy from the emotion of it all. Just when you thought he was going to kiss you, he whispered in your ear instead, his lips grazing the cartilage. “I know you ate a weed gummy. I can smell it on you.”

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you leaned away from him, his grip still tight around you. “Look, I just needed something to keep this interesting.” He spoke, his face turning pink just slightly.

He could smell it on you? What else could he smell? Those gummies smelled like nothing. They were in leak proof bags. But…what “else” could he smell.

Your face flushed as your brows met. “You must've seen me eat one. You can't smell those.” He scoffed at your accusation wanting nothing more than to confess everything he can smell on you but he figured he'd explain later.

You looked around to note no other chaperone was near you. “What’s your poison?”

A sinful smirk danced across his lips again. “Whiskey…you want some?” He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rather large metal flask. Your face lit up and you nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone.” You pleaded as he handed you his flask and you took a quick swig. It burned your mouth and the back of your throat, but it also warmed your soul. You weren’t a whiskey drinker at all, but you wanted to be one if that meant you had something in common with him. You took another swig this time longer, quickly shoving it back in his coat, and straightening out his jacket. Pressing out his jacket made his aroma waft through your senses. The scent of whiskey, pine, cedar and tobacco filled your nostrils and made your head spin. You couldn't believe you were touching him, the corduroy of his jacket felt so nice against your fingertips. You stared at his shirt, seeing the ribs of the white tank he wore underneath it. You hadn’t noticed but his eyes were affixed to you; watching you touch him, watching you getting lost in your thoughts as he had seen you do before. He thoroughly enjoyed you touching him. He gently rolled your head up with his index and thumb on your chin “You think too much. Relax, darlin’”

Your face flushed now mostly from the alcohol. Not to mention your edible was starting to kick in.

“Ohhhhhohoho! Look at teach!” One of your students spoke out. Immediately you froze and broke his hold around you. You hadn't realized he was holding you close to him for you were lost in your own crude thoughts. Words escaped your brain as you worried what they might say, but then you thought who cares? You were only concerned about rumors that could swirl around the school. Your reputation meant everything to you. To prove that you belonged…That you deserved to be there.

You looked over at Logan, thanked him for the drink and focused your attention to the floor. Your gaze searching and making sure the students were ok and having fun. Your mind was elsewhere however. Dizzy, drunk from his touch, his scent, and your edible kicking in. You felt a twinge, a heat building up in your thighs. You exhaled and tried to regain composure. You glanced at the perimeter of the room, seeing the other chaperones enjoying their time, drinking the punch, talking and laughing.

Fully feeling your vices, you found yourself by the wall bouncing along to the music; bobbing your head while holding your drink in your hand. You looked around searching for Logan. Just a glance to see what he was up to. No luck. It made you pout. You were feeling your emotions building up inside of you like a volcano about to erupt. Finally a break in your thoughts shattered through when you heard that new pop song you loved. It was almost a 180 in you. You became excited and danced in place and sang along with the words. You raised that cup in the air and swayed your hips. It filled your heart to feel that beat in your body, even more so since you were under the influence.

Logan had stepped outside for a smoke break, and when he returned he saw you really enjoying yourself. It brought a smile to his lips. He walked up to you, hands in his pockets, relaxed. “You’re having fun.” He spoke with his gruff exterior held up and a smile. You turned to him still bouncing to the beat, “Ohmygod yes! I love this song.” Calming down just a bit, not wanting to seem childish or immature to him, you took a sip of your non-alcoholic punch. You finally admitted to yourself that you liked him. You really, really, liked him and you hoped that he returned your feelings. But being his friend was second best.

“Oh? Well, let’s take you out on the floor then.” He suggested holding his hand out for you to take. You stood there, a bit stunned and unsure. He read your face as if he could read your mind, “When a pretty girl asks you to a dance, you dance. I didn’t come here for nothin’” he added with a smirk. Your thoughts ran a mile a minute. It made you think everything over; replaying in your mind on fast forward. You placed your drink down, and took his hand.

His hand was rough, calloused and his grip was tight as if he didn’t, you’d float away. He pulled you close to him again, and in rom-com true fashion, the song changed. The lights slowed and were dimmed low. He looked up and sighed at the change. “Of course…” he muttered. However his ears pricked back when he heard the song Beautiful Things play. He wasn’t sure of the artist but he enjoyed it the few times he had heard it. His brow furrowed, not sure how to dance to this slow pop song. He was going to figure it out.

His arm still around your waist and the other still holding your hand. Gently he swayed you side to side. Neither of you spoke. Only being present in the moment. His gaze held yours and yours were fixed to his.

And I hold you every night

And that's a feeling I wanna get used to

But there's no man as terrified

As the man who stands to lose you

Your sways turned into a spin. When he pulled you back to him, your eyes met. Your eyes darted between his hazel eyes almost luring you even closer to him. He dropped your hand as both his hands wrapped around your waist and yours, made their way around his shoulders pulling you both into each other. That feeling returned to your lower body as you swallowed the dry lump that formed in your throat. Your heart raced even faster and given your proximity, you knew he could feel it.

Oh, I hope I don't lose you

Mm

The lights were sparkling around you, adding just an extra layer of magic. You rolled your lips, trying so hard not to pick the skin off your luscious berry tinted lips.

Please stay

He took a quick breath in, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something. You tried to speak, to tell him everything, all the feels but you couldn’t find the courage to do so.

I want you, I need you, oh God

Don't take

“Can I kiss you?” He asked deep and low. Your eyes widened not expecting him to ask you anything let alone that. Words escaped you and all you could do was nod.

At that moment, the world seemed to standstill. You didn’t even care if any of your students saw you. You didn’t care if other teachers saw you. This moment, it was just you and Logan.

These beautiful things that I've got

The song seemed to come to a huge climax which only made your heart flutter as his hand held your chin up, his lips pressed on to yours. Fireworks seemed to go off in your brain. You closed your eyes just being in the moment. Feeling his warm lips against yours was everything you thought it would be. Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids as you took a deep inhale through your nose. Your hand draped around his neck, pulled him closer into you. Your hungry and needy return made a growl creep up from his broad chest. His tongue pushed his way into your desperate mouth as he watched through his lashes. You no longer thought about anything else. His intensity pushed your back a couple steps. Your free hand reaching behind you, trying to feel for the wall to brace yourself.

His lips dragged from yours down to your jaw, to your pulse point, to the nape of your neck; a trail of hot kisses behind them. His lips parted as he tasted your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as you found yourself pulling his face from his new favorite spot. His eyes were filled with lustful thoughts. “…not here…” you spoke before his lips found yours again. Your fingers applied pressure along his temples, gliding through his hair. His hands now wandered down your hips, grabbing your ass. He pulled from your lips begrudgingly, only now comprehending your words. He placed his hand up against the wall near your flushed face, fighting his urges to keep going for the moment.

“Yeah, you’re right…” he huffed. There wasn’t much blood in his brain to think of a secluded place. You grabbed his hand and led him out of the cafeteria. Down a hallway in the direction of the classrooms; He was becoming impatient, irrational…feral. His need for you, growing uncontrollably. When you paused in your steps, he pulled you into the bathroom adjacent to you both. His mouth found yours as soon as that door opened. Locking it behind him, he quickly closed the gap between you and the corner of the sinks and a wall. His sultry gaze looked over you, enjoying the sight and sound of you on the other side. His hands wandered up your stomach, to your breasts. He palmed them, running the side of his thumb over your hard nipples through your bra. “…fuck…” he muttered through your lips.

Your hand fiddled with his belt, undoing it along with the zipper of his slacks. Your other hand ran down his clothed chest, feeling ever chiseled muscle. You freed his throbbing cock from the confinements of his boxer briefs, gently stroking the entire length.

Fuck, he’s big

He shuddered from your touch. His brows furrowed as you sped up only focusing with your fingertips, teasing the tip coated with pearled precum with your thumb. He moved your hand from him, picking your legs up with his arms pulling them around his waist, making you lean back for leverage up against the wall. His tip teasing the outside of your pussy through your already wet panties. Your arms quickly wrapped around his neck, holding on for security.

“Don’t worry baby, I got ‘cha.” He grunted out. His one hand snaked up the back of your dress. His eyes searched yours as he felt the zipper. He leaned in as his lips sat on top of yours almost to steal your breath away. “May I?”

“Yes, please…do it” you responded so deprived. Your hands cupped his bristled cheeks as you pulled him in for another hungry kiss. Another growl rumbled in his chest as his hand slowly pulled the zipper down. The sound echoed in your ear drums as his lips found your neck again, gently sinking his teeth into your neck.

“Ahh, fuck Logan!” You jolted knowing you were going to have a mark there later. A reminder that this was real. Not one of your fantasies. He pulled away for a moment, admiring his mark against your skin.

“Uh uh. I’m Mr. Howlett, remember?” His voice deep and doused with lust. He pulled your arms out of the sleeves of your dress, and pulled it down, freeing your breasts. “Fuck you’re beautiful.” He uttered, admiring you. His warm mouth encapsulated your nipple as his other hand found your clit. You threw your head back, your hips jolting. His wet tongue ran over your nipple as he sucked on it. His finger delicately ran small circles on your clit. Your breathing became more shallow, his name floating off your lips as a prayer.

He hummed, slipping your nipple from his lips, “Say it again” his tongue flicked over your other nipple as you gasped. Your head dizzy, your cheeks hot, you managed to speak, “Mr. Howlett….” You moaned softly. It seemed to stir something within him. Hearing you say his name like that, turned him on even more.

He could feel how soaked you were between your folds. His fingers slipped down to coat his fingers in your wetness. “God, I’ve been thinking about this.” He admits in the valley of your tits.

“Me too…for far too long.”

“I’ll buy you a new pair…” he responds, staring into your eyes. Confusion paints your face, suddenly you feel cold metal against your pelvis. A small blade came from his hand as you felt your panties becoming taut and then riiiiiiippp.

He looks into you again. At this point, you feel like you can read minds. His eyes searched yours to get confirmation that this was happening. You moistened your lips and held onto your bottom lip. He leaned his forehead on yours, closing his eyes. You both allowed gravity to assist. Effortlessly, you slid right on to him, taking him deep to the hilt. You hissed a curse as you felt yourself suck him in. He held you there for you to adjust to him. His head went to his new favorite spot as his hot breath tickled your neck. He gritted his teeth as he slowly thrusted into you. The tight, slick of your folds made his head spin. The scent of you and your arousal made him thrust a bit faster. Your whimpers and whines echoed in the warm lit space alongside the squelching and sounds of skin slapping against each other.

“Fuck…” he muttered, “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You couldn’t explain the tightness that you were feeling in your lower abdomen, but you knew what it meant.

“Oooo, if you keep…doing that…fuck…” you panted; your chest rising and falling with every thrust trying not to be heard. But he wasn’t having it. You were going to be loud and you were going to cum. He slowed down his pace, edging himself and most likely you. From the base of his throbbing cock, inch by inch of his shaft pulled from you, covered in your juices, until the tip teased at your entrance again. Repeat.

He slowly pushed back into you, inch by inch of his veined shaft, until he could feel your ass on his balls. Logan could feel you clench around him.

“Doin’ what, baby?” His lips grazed the edge of your ear which only made the feeling in your pussy twinge. He chuckled, looking back into your eyes.

“Tell me,” he started, still slowly stroking you, making sure your clit was still being stimulated even if for a few moments of his pelvis hitting yours. The brisk air making it tingle. “There was a time, a few months ago…I was teachin’ and I could smell you. As if you were right there with me…” he held his position, deep in you; grinding his hips slowly. “What were you thinking about?”

You couldn’t think. Your eyes were closed as the back of your hand graced your face. You were completely lost in the amount of pleasure only wanting to focus on chasing your orgasm. Then it clicked. The memory flashed in your mind.

”You.” Whispering back into his ear. He looked in your eyes as a devilish smirk grew across his face. Full grin, he continued to slowly stroke you.

“What about me?”

You rolled your eyes, needing him to stop teasing you. No need to be shy now.

“You fucking me on your desk…bent over.” You managed to say. His pace sped up, his cock throbbing even more now. That thought almost sent him over the edge.

You couldn’t hold back anymore. His thrust were pushing you closer and closer to your own release. His length hitting the spongey spot. “Fuckfuckfuck…Imma…Imma” you mewled which only urged him to speed up even more. The twinge in your lower abdomen built up until you felt the electric shock travel throughout you. Logan groaned as his lips swallowed your moans. His thrusts became short and spaced out, quick bucks of his hips. You held on to him tighter as you moaned even louder knowing the twitch of his cock in you only meant one thing.

You both tried to catch your breath, panting like dogs in the summer heat. He held you close to him, still twitching inside of you.

“Fuck…I’m sorry” he murmured his voice raspy and dry.

Your eyes searched over his, wondering what he was apologizing for. Was he regretting this moment with you. Crossing the lines of being co-workers? Friends?

”You’re thinking too much.” He spoke again, studying the lines of your face. His eyes flickered down to where you both connected.

Your face flushed again, as you felt his seed drip from you. “Oh…that…that’s ok. Birth control ya know?” You said winking at him. His seemingly concerned face slowly turned into one of someone plotting something naughty. You seemed more in tune with him and his thoughts. Maybe he was allowing you to read him better.

He pulled your dress up to cover your beautiful breasts, as he carried you freely out of the bathroom and to his classroom. You held onto him, pressing your torso against his. “What are you doing?!”

“I need you darlin’” he stated pressing his lips against yours. Salt coated his face as strays of his hair tickled your forehead. His passion calmed a bit to a more tender love.

“What if someone sees us?” You asked as he gently placed you upon his desk. Finally pulling out of you, still hard, he covered the window in the door with black paper. You watched him move back towards you, as if he glided on ice, your heart beating a bit faster again. “No one is gonna see us.” He spun you around and gently pushed you over his desk. You squeaked, your heart racing even faster. He rolled your dress up to your hips, exposing your fat ass and soaked pussy. His seed still trickling out of you.

“Ohhh, shit.” He groaned taking in the sights and sounds. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He added.

Logan growled, sending a sharp sting through you. The slap on your ass reverberated through the classroom. You winced as your nails dug through the wood of his desk. You felt the ripple up to your back. The jiggle of your ass making you squirm and pulse.

You couldn’t see him, but you could feel the warmth of his tongue as he licked between your folds. “Ahh!” You mewled unsuspecting. Long, flat strokes of his tongue moved through you. His firm hands gripped you to spread you wide. As the tip of his tongue found your clit, your muscles tensed up. Your moans grew louder as he seemed to devour you.

“Mm, you taste so fucking sweet.” He hummed.

With every moan encouraged him to be more aggressive. His tongue darted into you and softly flicked against your other tight hole. “Fuck Logan…fuck me please..”you begged.

His eye twitched at the sound of your request. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you again, huh?” His smugness was oozing off of him. He loved hearing you beg for him and he was more than happy to oblige. He kissed your lower lips, a strand of saliva and your sweet juices trailing between them. He licked his lips, stood up and positioned himself at your entrance. “Say it again,” he asked, almost begging you for it.

“…please…fuck me again…Logan.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest. He stroked his length a couple times, while his other hand steadied your hips. He took the tip and pushed through your wet walls. As his other hand found your hip, he pressed back into you. He had more control like this than in the stall and it made him weak. His thrusts were tamed in the beginning, but he couldn’t fight off the primal urge in his body. He needed you.

His hips snapped back and forth as he claimed you as his. “Fuck princess, you feel fuckin’ fantastic.” His hazel eyes watched as he buried his cock deep into you, the sheen coating his dick making him move faster. With every thrust you moaned, your knees feeling weak as you held yourself up for him. Luckily, you were wearing heels. The lewd sound of skin on skin made it even more delectable.

“I need to see that pretty face.” He muttered, pulling out of you without warning, leaving you feeling empty. He flipped you over onto your back as you quickly hiked up your dress…and your legs. He pressed back into your dripping, needy pussy, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

Logan released a moan that took him by surprise. As you watched the man you had been pinning for so long grab hold of your thighs, it only made you tighten around him. You pulled your dress back down, exposing your breasts again as they bounced from his drive.

He lost himself in pleasure as his lips kissed your ankle. Your moans and your body moving only made him to take you deeper. He moved your legs from his shoulders and pushed them apart with his palms. Yes, this is how he wanted you. His pace sped up as he leaned over to kiss your lips. His tongue needing yours. Logan’s hands teased your nippled making sure you felt ultimate pleasure. He was determined to make you cum again.

You broke for the kiss needing air as your moans loudly traveled through the halls. You were a loud fuck and he loved it. As things crashed off his desk, papers fluttering down to the floor, his grunts louder than before and in sync with his speedy pulses in your velvet walls. You moaned again, your arms thrown around his neck, “…Logan, I’m so close…” you whimpered.

”I know…baby” he returned, chasing his own high again. His hand left your nipple to play with another sensitive mound in between your legs. You threw your head back as he rubbed your clit. Curses leaving your lips as your brows furrowed and your back arched.

“Cum for me…” his gravely voice demanded. He pressed himself so deep in you still playing with your clit. Your voice trembled and got higher pitched.

“Lo-lo-lo-loooo…” you squealed, the feeling that build up in your body finally release itself. You came hard, your back arched as he watched you convulse on the desk, squeezing him, only making him reach his own release. Sending pools of hot white cum in you again.

Nothing else mattered in this moment than the two of you. Out of breath as you tried to catch it, you started laughing. “Oh, my god…I can’t believe we did that.” He returned the sentiment, pulling out of you. He grabbed some paper towels from his desk, handed you some, and wiped only the tip off.

“But you don’t regret it, do you?” He asked, tossing it in the trash. His arms wrapped around your back, assisting you to sit up. Your eyes met his still in a trance from the previous engagement.

”What?! No!…that was the best lay I’ve had in years.” You responded, kissing him sweetly on his lips.

Logan looked down and chuckled. He grabbed your chin with his free hand, “I can be your only lay, from here on out.”

You smiled, still not trying to come across overly eager, “…Sure Mr. Howlett. I’d like that.”

[rierice8]

Finally, Honkai star rail was released (a while ago too sry this took so long lmao) so I can finally simp over Dan heng and it makes sense cuz I’ve seen his personality too. I LOVE HIM SO MUCH IT'S UNHEALTHY, dan heng 🛐🛐

Tw: cockwarming, edging, biting, hickeys, degradation, spanking, slight masochism, dacryphilia, name calling, slight feminisation

Dan heng x male reader

Word count: 1096

Struggling reading, are we?

Dan heng jolts lightly as you adjust your posture. In doing that, he stopped reading. The book slipped slightly in his hand. His ass clenching around your dick.

“Dan heng, love, whyever did you stop reading? I was enjoying listening to your voice,” you said teasingly.

He scoffed, though it came out more like a moan.

“Oh mine, were you really enjoying my voice? Or my ass?” He said in his regular entitled tone.

You smirked as you fixed the book that was slipping from his hands and urged him to continue.

Dan heng was sitting at his desk, cockwarming you. He could barely take any more of it too. He was shaking and cursing everytime you moved even a centimetre. As though that slightest movement was rearranging his insides, not like he’d mind if you wanted to.

But what was making this read aloud even worse was that you were constantly nipping at his neck. His shirt was pushed to the side and his collar exposed. You would place light kisses on his neck at random, along with biting and sucking whenever you wanted to. Everytime your lips grazed his skin he’d pause, unable to think clearly anymore as all the ink on the page seemed to smudge and dance around.

You were his toxin.

And you loved how every little thing you did to him gave you a reaction. You lived for the little moans that escaped his throat before he coughed and continued reading. He was trying his best to pretend that he wasn’t slowly being split apart and losing all rational sense at having your cock stuck in him for nearly an hour, and he was getting away with it pretty well.

Until, of course, you decided you’d had enough of him reading about the stelleron theory.

You started moving. Grabbing his hips with both hands you started making him bounce up and down on your cock. Dan heng almost immediately dropped the book and let out a moan. He slammed his hand over his mouth, remembering not to be too loud as his room was at the very beginning of the hallway and everyone passing would be able to hear.

Up and down, up and down. Eventually he started bouncing to meet your thrusts.

“Mng- feels good,” he panted out, already going crazy from you just finally starting to move. You groaned softly at his moans and bit into his collar again. Sucking harshly on the pale skin and leaving behind pretty purple marks. You let go of his skin for the final time with a pop. Dan heng was moaning lightly into his hand as he felt his legs going numb. He was getting close.

“Ngh! Close..” he said as quietly as he could, which wasn't very quiet, just muffled by his hand.

“Already? Uh uh pretty boy, not yet,” you said as you stopped your thrusting all of a sudden. He whined as you pulled out and stood him up so that you could stand. But almost immediately after you stood up he was on you again, pressing his lips to yours as he fervently wrapped his hand around your cock and started jerking you off.

You moaned into the kiss and let him push you to the wall. Never giving you a chance to breathe in between the never ending bombarde of kisses and his hand on your dick. Sloppily french kissing as his hand speeds up, your knees trembling. You gasped lightly when he bit your lip and you pushed him away. He stared at you intently as you took off your upper half of clothing and he did the same. Pants already being off from earlier.

“God you're so hot, Dan heng,” you whispered into his ear as you guided him to his futon and laid him down ass up. He did nothing but smirk slyly as you did this. You didn’t even need to prep his ass since it was already loose from earlier, so you slipped your dick right in him. He moaned loud at the sensation of being full again and how you felt inside him in this position. Neither of you caring about the neighbours and passers-by anymore.

You kept thrusting into him hard, and he kept moaning hard.

“God, Dan heng, you really are such a little slut for me, aren't you? Ass up for me, moaning like a prostitute,” you said as you slapped his ass hard.

“Ah! Fuckk- again please,” he begged with tears in his eyes.

“Yeah? You like being hit like that, whore? This whole time as you were reading I bet you were just thinking about all the ways I could fuck you later. All the ways I could fill you up and make you my baby mommy, isn’t that right?” You said as you spanked him again. And once more. He was crying now, floods of “feels good”s and “don’t stop”s were coming from him. You cockily laugh at him, playing even more into his fantasies.

“Mmmf! I’m gonna cumm,” he moaned, and with that you stopped. He whined at your lack of moving.

Didn’t he just say he was going to come?

Why did you stop?

You grabbed his head and turned him towards you. He was very different from the Dan heng you knew, the Dan heng that was stoic and aloof. This Dan heng’s face was red, tears in his eyes and a pool of drool coming from his mouth. He looked up at you pleadingly through his lashes. He looked so pretty when he cried.

“What's the magic word, slut?” You asked him.

“Please!! Please please let me cum this time!” He sobbed out. Now who are you to deny such a request? You plunged into him again. Making sure to pull almost all the way out just to slam all the way back in, making Dan heng cry out in pleasure.

“Yes!!!” He moaned out as he finally came, white liquid coming from his dick dripping all over the bed sheets. With a few more thrusts you came too, deep inside him. His ass was clenching around your cock so nicely, squeezing you for all your worth. You pulled out and immediately your cum started leaking out. You pushed it back in, thinking it’d be a waste for it to all fall out now. He toppled over, laying down and falling asleep. You lay down next to him, deciding you’ll just clean up tomorrow. You gave Dan heng a kiss on the forehead.

“I’m so glad you’re mine.”

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

“…𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮..

𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮, 𝙗𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙮…”

╴╴⊹ꮺ˚ ╴╴╴╴╴⊹˚ ╴╴╴╴˚ೃ ╴╴

well that was one way to be broken up with.

she couldn’t even be mad at the guy. he had been very sweet and patient but she had spiraled and started missing texts that turned to missing calls— which turned to missing dates. wasn’t the first time either, she just was that much of an exhausting person to keep up with.

in the sense that she was always behind.

she let out a sigh as she rid herself of his footprints, deleting his texts, deleting any photos, unadding him on socials— the whole nine yards.

but when it came to that dreaded voicemail.

her finger hovered over the red trash can button, taunting her.

and then she pocketed her phone, she supposed it would serve as a reminder.

that it was always her fault.

she rubbed at her face before emerging from her room.

“ah, you’re awake.” her raven haired roommate looked up from his book

“and to think we thought you were just about to sleep through your date.” her snowy haired roommate chimed in from his position laying across the raven’s lap

“ah, about that… i just got broken up with.”

“…”

it was quiet between the three of them, then again when was it not? she never made much efforts to communicate with them past their typical chores and roles in the housework.

the two in a friendlier than most relationship were seeking a third person to help take up the lease and that’s exactly what she did, nothing more nothing less.

and when it got awkward…

“yeah…” she murmured looking at her hands

“do you… want to talk about it?” it was a cheap attempt, she appreciated it nonetheless

“i’d rather not, i think my first proper conversation with you two shouldn’t be me bitching about my ex.”

satoru’s airy laugh sounded as he got up from his lover’s (?) lap.

“please, we wouldn’t be opposed.”

“speak for yourself satoru, only you are a fiend for other people’s affairs.” suguru tsked, closing his book slightly

“but please, if you need someone to talk to— we’re both willing.”

“i thought i was the fiend suguru—”

“you are, i’m offering as a concerned roommate.”

“i’m fine.” her words a lot harsher than she intended

and then came the unconvinced, concerned glances.

“sorry.”

and then she retreated back to her room.

if she kept this up she’d find herself out on the streets.

she let out a sigh, it was what she deserved right? no boyfriend, no roommates, no friends, nothing.

on her birthday no less.

she let out a sigh, she might as well distract from this pitiful day.

————————————————————

nothing beat rearranging your room instead of confronting your feelings.

she shook her head, she didn’t have a right to feel anything more than empty. the only thing that she felt was the need to rearrange her room and rearranged it was.

she needed a new change of scenery, after all she was another year older.

and yet still none the wiser.

the brutality of reality seemed to sting more as one got older.

she sighed, at least she can mope in a clean room.

a knock pulled her from her thoughts.

“it’s open.”

and then there stood her two roommates.

“i don’t think we’ve ever seen your room—ack! ow…”

“seriously satoru?”

“what? it’s true…”

she stared at the two bickering before the raven sat his eyes on her.

“y/n… we wanted to see if you were free later—“

“please, she’s always free—“

a smack, then a whine.

“we’ve realized that you haven’t been properly introduced to the area… we’d love to do you the honors.” he offered a half hearted smile

she supposed it was true, aside from her dates once in a while— she never really was familiar with the area.

“i suppose i can accept.”

“i told you suguru now we have to drag her ou— wait what?”

she chuckled, for the first time in a long time, a genuine chuckle tumbled out from her lips.

the two men were in awe.

“i’ll join your endeavors to wherever, i… i could use the fresh air.” she swallowed

the bright blue eyed man seemed ecstatic as he left her room pumped, the more subdued raven gave her a soft smile before leaving her to get ready in peace.

“thank you for humoring us.”

she should be thanking them, but she wouldn’t say that part out loud… at least not yet.

—————————————————

she couldn’t help but feel a bit awkward as she was wedged between the two men who insisted.

something about her being too small and easily losable in the crowd.

apparently these parts were known for having winter night markets where the cold winter streets would warm to life with street food and vendors.

she hardly had a chance to process the sights and the atmosphere as they dragged her from stall to stall, sampling food, eying trinkets, playing games.

she’d be a liar if she said she wasn’t having fun.

“wait guys— i’m gonna get some of the dango from earlier.” satoru was bouncing away before the two could even respond

“well his dentist certainly has their work cut out for them.”

suguru had to process her snark words a little before letting out a chuckle.

“believe it or not, satoru has the most elaborate brushing routine that I’ve ever seen. he’d rather die than develop any sensitivity to sweets.” he hummed

“i see.” she hummed, starting to rub her hands a bit

“getting cold?”

“a little, it’s fine— i’ll probably invest in gloves one of these days…” she sighed a little

“here, let me.”

he gently took her hands in his, letting her much smaller hands rest nice and warm in his own.

“your hands always this warm?”

“i’d have to say quite the opposite for you, and here i thought satoru’s was bad.” he chuckled lightly

“speaking of— if it’s within my boundaries… what are you two?” the words just tumbled out of her mouth

they weren’t married, and they seemed very comfortable in each other platonically as well.

it was obvious that they loved each other, but she couldn’t help but wonder in what way?

he tilted his head slightly.

“perhaps soulmates, life partners. he’s practically my everything.” he smiled

“oi! quit being so cryptic!” suddenly satoru was back with his dango in one hand and the other around the raven

“he’s my person— not much else to it.”

“that wasn’t any better than mine in the slightest.”

“yeah but you go into the poetics of it too much, just call it as it is.”

and she was left with more questions than she had answered, but in a way she sort of got what they meant.

they were each other’s person.

“i’m glad you two have each other.” she gave them a smile

“ah shit— she just got broken up with… are we being too much?”

“satoru!”

and there it was again, that airy laugh that made the boys still. they were still in awe that she had it in her, not when she constantly looked miserable in their eyes.

“guys, guys it’s fine— you don’t have to change anything for my sake.” she sighed, a small smile still playing at her lips

“ugh you’re so sweet! your loser boyfriend didn’t even deserve you like that!” satoru whined as he shook her a little

“especially dumping you on y—“

an elbow to the ribs and his hands were immediately off you.

“suguru…!” he groaned

“you have a big mouth.”

“oh but you like that~”

another elbow.

she couldn’t help but snicker at their antics, one moment they were like an old couple in love and another moment it was almost as if their were your typical best friends who’ve known each other forever.

she thinks she’s starting to understand what suguru meant by them being each other’s person a little bit better.

“sorry about talking about your relationships so carelessly.” suguru gave her a sheepish smile

“it’s alright, nothing that wasn’t my own fault.” she shrugged

they looked at each other.

she couldn’t just leave it at that.

“i have the tendency to just… withdraw..” she bit the inside of her cheek

“at some point it’s exhausting for the other person, dealing with me disappearing every so often— although it’s not intentional… it’s not hard for someone else to think i’ve lost interest or i’m being unfaithful.” she gave the two a half hearted shrug

“i suppose there’s just a lot i need to work on myself before i put myself out there.”

the two seemed conflicted, it was good she could recognize the areas she needs to work on…

“…but aren’t you being too harsh on yourself?” suguru blurted out, satoru immediately nodding

“there’s nothing wrong with working on yourself… but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to love and be loved.” satoru gave her a look

she knew they were right, but sometimes it was just easier to be miserable without having to think about another— only thinking about herself and her misery. she was selfish like that.

and they could tell by the conflict that flashed on her face.

before the conversation could progress any further she felt something cold prick at her nose, and then she looked up.

a gentle snow was falling.

“well would you look at that.”

she wore a wistful expression as she looked up, letting the snowflakes gather on her lashes as the warmth of her skin melted the ones on her face.

perhaps it was the universe letting her have this one thing, the first snow.

suguru and satoru seemed thrilled as well.

“suguru— look!”

“i see it satoru.”

but everyone seemed so far away as it was just her and the gentle snow.

it was beautiful.

but beautiful things hardly last.

“…!”

she looked back at the two who gave her a look, suddenly she was back on the busy night market street.

“you’re shivering.”

she didn’t notice until another one wracked her body.

before she could speak she felt herself being dragged along by satoru, suguru trailing behind the two.

“wha..? where are we going?”

“somewhere to warm up!”

——————————————————

when the two dragged her off, she expected for them to go back to their shared apartment or a restaurant.

but she was sitting down on a couch in a dim room with a microphone in hands while colored lights danced around the room.

“i… i have a few questions—”

“come on! it’s nice and warm and you can sing your heart out about your shitty ex!”

“he wasn’t shitty though, it was my fault we broke up.”

“that doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to feel some type of way about it.”

which was true.

“come on you know the classic breakup songs right? it’ll get whatever off your chest—“

and before she could protest satoru was already queuing up a song.

and that’s how the rest of the night went, although hesitant at first it wasn’t long before the three taking turns in singing songs and ballads. from cheesy classics to songs of yearning and heartbreak that suguru sang a bit too well for satoru’s comfort.

“i’ll never make you feel like that!” he whined clinging on to the raven who gave him an exasperated look

“i know.”

she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight, it was nice to be around other people.

“i’m going to the restroom.” suguru hummed before peeling satoru off of him

“can i come with~”

“no.”

she snickered a bit at satoru’s clingy behavior.

“he’s so mean to me!” he huffed

“i think he knew if you two went together you wouldn’t be coming back out any time soon.” she mused

he let out a dramatic sigh.

“i suppose you’re right.”

“also we couldn’t leave your mopey self all by your lonesome.” he gave her a little nudge

she shook her head with a smile.

“i think i would’ve managed.”

“yeah yeah don’t lie— you’ve been all sad about your lame ex. y’know if you said no earlier sugu and i would’ve just dragged you out one way or another.”

“i’d like to see you try.”

“suguru manhandles me on the daily— we’d get ya.” he snickered

a comfortable silence fell between the two.

“do you feel better?”

she pondered his question a little.

“i do…”

but.

“but..?” he tilted his head

“it’s not even the breakup at this point…” she sighed a little

it was the prospect of getting older, and not a damn thing changed.

life itself was a fickle thing, ever changing.

so why hasn’t she?

gripping onto the ways of her past, she joked that she peaked when she was younger and it was all downhill from there… when did it start being actually true?

her past, her youth— it took all the best parts of her.

and now she was someone despicable enough to be broken up with on their birthday—

she felt cold hands on her cheeks, snapping her from her thoughts.

“you got lost in your head.” bright blue eyes staring down on her as she blinked

just how long did she spend ruminating looking like a complete nutcase in front of him?

“suguru was right— your hands are cold.” she mumbled out

“you alright?”

“i’m not sure yet.”

“…you wanna sing one more song?”

she sighed.

“pass me the mic.”

she got up to go queue up the next song, her back towards satoru— he didn’t need to see her inner turmoil boil up once more.

she heard the door click open, she figured suguru was back.

“ah— suguru. you wanna join the last—“

the words on her lips died as she turned around to meet his gaze, only for it to fall on a cake.

a birthday cake.

“welp— cat’s out of the bag! woooo! happy birthday!”

she was still processing it.

“satoru that’s hardly appropriate,” suguru rolled his eyes at him before turning to face her once more

“come, sit down.”

so she sat down on the couch in between the two as suguru set the cake down in front of her on the table.

“we weren’t sure what flavor you’re into but as a self proclaimed confectionery connoisseur, all the cakes from this bakery are really good so it should be alright.” satoru hummed as he pulled out candles from his pocket and expertly placed them around the cake

she finally found her words.

“how… how did you know…?”

suguru gave her a small smile.

“well at first we didn’t, but then we did some extensive research—“

“we were snooping around your socials.”

“…yeah that.”

her lips couldn’t help but quirk up at that.

“we knew something was up when you bothered to speak more than five words to us.” satoru shrugged before being met with a smack to the head

“owww…! it’s true!”

“forgive satoru, he’s bad at handling delicate situations.”

“i’m just saying it how it is! you looked more down than usual and we snooped around! can we talk about how shitty your ex is for dumping you on your birthday?” he ranted which earned him another smack

she was overwhelmed with emotion, she didn’t even realize the tears that started to stain her cheeks.

“you made her cry.”

“shit— i’m sorry!”

“no no,” she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand

“i’m grateful i promise, just processing… y’know?”

“we hope you know that you deserve this, having a birthday worth celebrating.” suguru put a hand on her shoulder

she offered him a watery smile.

“hug? you look like you could use one.” satoru offered

typically she would’ve refused, she wasn’t big on physical gestures but she couldn’t stop herself from nodding softly wiping her face some more.

she let herself be caged in between the two, taking in their scents and warmth. she relaxed into their holds, letting out a sigh once her sniffling subsided.

“thank you.” she whispered softly

“i know we’re still sort of strangers but we’ve grown a liking to you, if you ever think you’re alone especially here… we’re here for you.” suguru murmured

“you’ve already been welcomed in our lives aside from the roommate formality stuff, it’s just up to you if you want us in yours.” satoru chuckled lightly ruffling her hair a little

“i’d… like that.”

and they held on for a little bit longer, she held on for a little bit longer.

“now how about we blow out some candles?”

❀° ┄───╮

this one is dedicated to all the girlies who feel some type of way (wanting to die lol) on their birthdays, including me today :,)

╰───┄ °❀

[five-rivers]

My Kingdom of Fish poll fiction! Continued from here.

.

After a small amount of dithering, Danny took the cameras. He was here to show his parents the library, and he couldn't do that if they couldn't see it. The ambient array could collect data here as well as anywhere else. The Fenton Finder's 23rd iteration was as buggy as the first. He'd actually done a small amount of sabotage to the ‘self-defense system’ to make it safe to carry around, so… Yeah.

The only things he felt at all bad about leaving were the medical monitors and the environmental safety detectors. Both of those had helped him in the past. The Lost Library was supposed to be safe, though. It wasn't a truce zone or anything, but people didn't go there to fight, and the librarians were supposed to take care of any environmental dangers that popped up (mostly because things that could endanger ghosts could certainly endanger books). The Library of Tongues did that, anyway.

He did have to rearrange and remove some of the cameras, especially the redundant ones and the ones that weren't taking his amplified aura well, so that they fit on his much-reduced frame, but they were made to be serviceable, and soon he was ready.

The coat room, as it turned out, was right behind the reception desk.

“There are doors that aren't visible or that won't open for you unless you're a member or have a badge,” the librarian explained as she put the equipment on a shelf. “Another reason not to lose yours.”

“Where's the way in?” asked Danny.

“This way.”

The librarian led him back around, then to the side of the desk. Here, again, the wall had folded back into a set of doors, this one more ornate.

“The copyist's room attendants will meet you down the hallway,” said the librarian, sitting back down at her desk.

Danny nodded. “Thank you.”

The hallway forked right sharply. A ghost woman with bronze skin and dark hair was waiting there, not far from the corner. There was a spiral on the center of her forehead in what looked like gold wire under her skin. The outside end of it disappeared under her hairline.

“Oh my,” she said, hiding her mouth behind a pair of bell-like sleeves, “you’re so cute. Iphigenia didn’t tell me you were cute.”

Danny made a face.

“Ah! Precious! How old are you?”

“I was fourteen when I died,” said Danny, flatly. “I don’t know why places like this make me tiny, but I’m not.”

“You must be young at heart.”

Danny squinted at her.

“Mm? Are you looking at this?” she asked, pointing at her spiral. Danny shrugged, then nodded. He hadn’t been, not really, but in the interest of changing the subject… “It’s what members of the library have instead of another alteration. It’s like the fires you get at the Library of Tongues.” The spiral moved, retreating, unwinding, vanishing under her hair and then spiraling out onto the palm she offered up to Danny. “It’s called the Lìshǐ Yánxù De Jīn Xiàn, although ghosts from western cultures call it Ariadne’s String. No sense of pride for their work, I swear.” She shook her head. “So, if you get lost, or need help finding something, find someone with one of these, okay? We have a pretty big children's collection, believe it or not.”

“I'm not really a child.”

“Oh! So mature!” She poked his cheek, then stood up and opened the door behind her. “Let’s get you situated.”

The copyist’s room was large and brightly lit, lined with beehive-like cubbies that served as shelving for scrolls. There were several work tables spread throughout the room, and a mid-sized manual printing press. There were two other ghosts in the room. One, a stressed-looking larger man with a curly, box-cut beard, and the other a severely thin, angular man with a long, looping tail.

Both wore guest badges, and both had features that did not seem to match the rest of their appearances. The severe-looking man had large, fluffy, soft-looking wings with feathers that twitched and shifted near constantly. He had a quill badge clipped to the belt of his tunic. The other, larger man had moth antennae and wings, but also enormous, ribbed bat ears. He had not one but two badges attached to his robe-like wrap, the candle and the gong.

“Now,” said the attendant, “I know you said that you wanted to do Ancient Greek to English, and when people say Ancient Greek, they mean Ancient Greek from Life, not old Zone dialects, but the Mausoleum of Macaria tipped into the Acheron a few weeks ago, and were swamped with Elysian, Asphodelian, and Tartarian Greek. Especially Tartarian Greek. Would you mind doing something from one of those? It would be much shorter than what we'd give you in regular Ancient Greek, only a few pages.”

She looked at him hopefully.

“It would really help if you knew any of them,” she added.

[goldenseresinretriever]

Snitches Get Stitches: Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Jake Seresin, golden boy of the NHL and Captain of the Dallas Stars makes headlines when he unexpectedly signs with newly-formed San Diego Dogfighters. When your future seems at the verge of crashing down, you receive the opportunity of a lifetime to become the team physician for the Dogfighters. You never expected to be working directly with your favorite hockey player. Jake has a secret and you have a job to do. Will he be able to trust you enough to help and will you be able to trust him with your heart?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, violence, sports violence, medical stuff, blood probably, angst, fluff, (eventual) smut, forbidden romance, sexual harassment, suggestive language, medical inaccuracies, hockey inaccuracies etc. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, Snitches Get Stitches. It was originally posted in October-November 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

You don’t see Jake again until the next day. Three days in and you’re up to your eyeballs in paperwork that Beau dropped into your lap this morning. You’re starting to understand why they call him Cyclone, he blows in and right back out, leaving you in perpetual chaos. Admittedly he got it for doing that on the ice and he’s actually an extremely reasonable person, you just don’t particularly appreciate getting swamped when you’re already booked full with the physicals. There’s only one way to get both done and that’s how you find yourself in your office working through your lunch break, trying to ignore the angry protests of your stomach after being on your feet all morning working through the last of the second line guys. You half expect the knock at your door, absently calling out to invite the knocker in, expecting Zam coming to investigate your absence from the unofficial girls' table in the break room. That’s why the southern drawl catches you off guard and your head whips up so fast you almost tumble out of your chair.

“Hey, Bugs.” Jake Seresin is standing in the doorway, holding a white plastic bag and a steel water bottle. “You got a second?”

You most definitely do not have a second but your patients come first so you rush to rearrange the paper chaos on your desk to clear some space, waving a hand at the chair opposite inviting him to sit. “Sure Jake, what’s up?”

He sits, his large body dwarfing the office chair and you do your best not to stare, the lack of food in your stomach must be making you mildly delirious. “I was thinking about what you said yesterday about trust, and you’re asking me to trust you. And not your title, you’re asking me to trust you the person if that makes sense?” You nod slowly. “And I was thinking that to trust you as a person, I can’t really do the blind faith thing. I can do that with a title because the title has implications, like because you’re a doctor I know you have over a decade of school and studying to back that title up. But I don’t have anything to trust you as a person because I just met you two days ago. You’ve done your research on me, you said so yourself, so I think I need to do my research.”

“Is this you asking for my Instagram…?” He laughs at that and this time you have time to appreciate how beautiful and full the sound is.

“No Bugs,” he chuckles, placing the plastic bag and water bottle on your desk. “This is me asking you to have lunch with me.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, sure.” You do your best to quiet the part of your brain that’s spiraling to figure out when you’re going to be able to finish all this paperwork. It’ll have to wait, you’re finally getting somewhere with Jake. He opens the bag pulling out a wrapped package and a plastic container.

“I didn’t know if you were more of a cheeseburger or salad person so I just got both.” You almost melt into your seat at the gesture. Before you can say anything, however, your stomach beats your mouth and growls so loudly you want to sink through your chair and die. Your cheeks flush as Jake grins. “Sounds like you’re a both girl.” He places the cheeseburger on top of the salad container and slides the stack across your desk.

“Thank you, Jake, seriously.” You stammer as you grab the cheeseburger with shaking fingers, doing everything to not rip the wrapper to shreds and devour half of it in one bite. “And for the record, I’m a cheeseburger girl.” You give him a shy smile as you bite into it, groaning.

He chuckles as he takes out three more cheeseburgers and starts on one as well. “And here I thought bunnies liked carrots.”

“Actually rabbits don’t naturally eat carrots. They’re too high in sugar.” You say around the cheeseburger in your mouth.

“Noted.”

You swallow. “So what do you want to know about me?”

“I guess let’s start broad. What made you want to do this, working with athletes? You mentioned you watch hockey in your spare time?”

“Yeah, I grew up watching the Ducks with my dad.” You smile at the memory. “Hockey is our thing, one thing we can always talk about, do together.”

“I bet he lost his mind when he found out you’re working with three former Ducks.” He says with a grin. You laugh at that.

“Are you kidding? The man lost his damn mind. He always said he’d never go to an NHL game that wasn’t an Anaheim game but he’s already got tickets for our season opener. The man worships Maverick.”

“Are the Ducks your favorite team too?”

You hesitate at that. Before it was easy to keep yourself separate from Bugs, they were two circles that didn’t overlap but there’s nothing professional about eating lunch with one of your patients in your office. You’re finally making progress with Jake and while you hate lying to him, you’re not sure now is the time to mention that you’re a super fan. “I’m pretty sure I’m contractually obligated to say my favorite team is the Dogfighters.”

“Good point.” He chuckles. So you love hockey, but there’s plenty of ways to work with it without being a physician, so why that?”

“Well I’ve always felt connected to the players on a team, so naturally it always hurt a little to see them get injured, and as a viewer, I hated that there wasn’t something I could do about that. Turns out there was something I could do. I’ve always loved taking care of people but being able to apply it to something that means so much to me is kind of like the sweetest possible deal. I like to think I have a unique perspective with hockey athletes specifically since I grew up watching and playing the sport, I feel like I know them.”

“Wait a second, you play hockey?” His eyes are glowing with excitement.

“Played, past tense. Just for a little bit as a kid, until high school. I never really had the build and body for it, so I played as long as I could before it got to a serious level and I couldn’t make the teams anymore. My dad used to coach a kids league so that’s how I started.”

“What position?”

“Goalie and that’s the only reason I managed to make teams for as long as I did. The body was less of a requirement next to flexibility and agility.”

“Like Bob?”

“Yup, just like Bob, but look at him, he made it to the NHL. It’s nice to see, I think I would have fought harder to keep playing if I’d seen a goalie like him.” You give a rueful smile. “But if I’d kept playing, I never would have found my calling for sports medicine so it worked out in a way. This way I understand what it’s like to be a player so I can level with my patients better because I understand where their coming from.” He nods, turning this new information over in his head.

“Any siblings?”

“Two older brothers.”

“Did they play hockey too?”

You nod. “My oldest brother played through college but didn’t get drafted so he went to law school for sports law and now he’s the one signing players. My other brother plays for the Predators.”

“Damn Bugs, you’ve got an NHL player in the family? No wonder you’re so chill around us.”

“Idiot boys are idiot boys no matter how much they get paid. My brother may play for the Predators now but that’s the same kid who had to get his stomach pumped at age six for eating two whole tubes of play dough on a dare.” Jake chokes on his burger as he laughs.

“Are y’all close?”

You nod. “We all work in different facets of the same sport so it keeps us pretty tight-knit.”

“So who are you gonna be rooting for when we play the Predators in November?”

You make a face. “Are you kidding? The Predators can’t play for shit.” Jake barks out a laugh at the disgusted look you throw his way.

“And the Dogfighters?”

“That remains to be seen. I still haven’t seen their star centre at the top of his game so I can’t form an opinion about them quite yet.” You give him a soft smile, hoping that it comes across like gentle encouragement instead of a cruel dig. He sighs and sits back and you’re afraid you’ve crushed the delicate bubble you’d just created. “I didn’t mean it like that, Jake, I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry.” You stumble over your words as you try to backtrack. Before Jake can respond, a knock sounds at your door and you call out for them to come in. Cyclone enters and you can’t help but wither a little at the sight.

“Cyclone, what can I do for you?” You give him a tight smile trying to ignore the way his eyes rove over the scene in front of him, Jake, the food, the pushed-aside paperwork.

“Bugs, I wanted to see if you’d finished up with the paperwork I dropped off this morning?” Finished? You’d be lucky if you were even halfway done. “I’m going to need those on my desk by the end of the day.”

“Sure thing, sir.” You chirp, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. You’re so completely, totally, fucked. Your afternoon is booked full with physicals, so you’ll have to stay late to finish the paperwork.

“Jake? What brings you here?”

“Just chatting, sir, getting better acquainted with the person responsible for my health for the foreseeable future.” Jake offers Cyclone a wide grin that’s pure charisma. He could charm the pants off a horse. Cyclone nods in response, turning back to you.

“Bugs, if you could come by my office when you’re done here I’d like to have a chat with you as well.” You feel your stomach sink. You know what this is about. Your mind falls back to the day of your interview and you grimace at exactly what Cyclone is insinuating.

“I’ll be right up, sir.” You miss the worried look that Jake gives you. His eyes scan the papers scattered on your desk as Cyclone leaves.

“Hey Bugs, did I interrupt your work?” He looks guilty.

“No! Well technically yes I was working on some paperwork but you’re my patient so you’re my work too, and either way, I was on my lunch break so legally speaking I wasn’t working either way. There was no way this was all getting done by the end of the day anyway.”

“But Cyclone just said-“

“It'll be done by the end of THE day, just not his day. I’ll just have to stay late to finish it up. I’ve got back-to-back physicals for the rest of the day after this. It's no big deal.”

He shakes his head, frowning. “That’s not fair, you shouldn’t have to do that. Doesn’t he know how busy you are?”

“You of all people should know life isn’t fair, Jake. We’re starting a team from the ground up, this may be the first late night, but I promise you it won’t be the last.” You start collecting your trash, already missing Jake’s company at the thought of your meeting with Cyclone. He’s deep in thought, still frowning. “Sorry to cut things short, but I do have to meet Cyclone before my next appointment.” Something pops into your mind that you’d meant to mention as Jake starts to clean up as well.

“Wait, Jake, I need to tell you something.” He looks up, and the seas in his eyes are calmer than you’ve ever seen them even as you see the question in them.

“What’s up, Bugs?”

“Bob knows.” He looks confused so you clarify. “About your leg…” you watch the walls slam back up in his eyes as he frowns, anger flooding into his face. “I didn’t tell him, I swear! He asked me about it yesterday during his physical. Apparently, he studied kinesiology in college and has been watching you and he noticed something was up.” You’re suddenly worried that you’ve made a terrible mistake in telling him but ultimately you thought it was the right decision.

“Fuck…” Jake runs an irritated hand through his hair and you watch the blonde strands stick up on his wake. “FUCK!” You jump at his raised voice and he turns to you at the movement. He must see the fear pass through your eyes because his shoulders slump and you see the same look mirrored in them. You come out from behind your desk, laying your hand on his absurdly large bicep.

“It’s okay, Jake. I know this is scary but you’ll get through this. We’ll get through this.” You add without thinking. He turns to look at you and you see the fear swirling in his eyes and it breaks your heart. “But your team deserves to know what’s going on, Jake. You owe that to them as a teammate and especially as their captain. You have to lead by example.” He nods silently.

“I know.” You’re not sure if you imagine the waver in his voice.

“I gotta go before Cyclone comes back down here looking for me, but you can take your time if you need some privacy.” You take a deep breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake, straightening your shoulders before grabbing your white coat from the hook on the back of your door, giving Jake a little wave as you leave.

***

The walk up to Cyclone’s office feels like walking through wet cement, but when you get there, the door is open and he’s waiting at his desk, lips set in a grim line. You close the door behind you, taking a seat across from him when he invites you to.

“Bugs, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to have this conversation at all, let alone three days into the job.” He looks frustrated and you can’t blame him but you also know he’s misunderstanding what he saw. “When I hired you, you made me a promise.”

“I know sir, and I’ve kept it. My relationship with Jake Seresin, if you can even call it that, is strictly professional. As the captain of the team, he’s expressed interest in maintaining a good relationship with me so he wanted to meet to discuss how the physicals have been going and lunchtime is the only free time we both have, currently.” You hope the lie sounds as convincing as you need it to as you silently chastise yourself for putting your hand on Jake’s arm earlier. It was unnecessary and unprofessional. Anyone could have walked in and gotten the wrong idea. You need to stop touching him so much, but you can’t help it. He’s like a magnet, and you’re helpless to his pull.

He nods curtly but doesn’t look convinced. “And how are they going?”

“Everyone I’ve finished with is in perfect condition.” This time it’s not a lie. Technically Jake hasn’t had his physical yet.

“Good.” He sighs. “Bugs, we’re not going to have a problem here, are we? I took a chance hiring you, you know that. There are multiple accounts that contrast the story you told me. You’re outnumbered and I still chose to trust you, I hope I made the right decision.”

“You did, sir. There won’t be any problems.” At least not in this department. You can’t imagine how he’ll react when he finds out his star goalie is injured.

“I hope so because if we do, I can assure you that you’ll never work in the NHL again, let alone in the hockey world.” You swallow, hard, glad that your hands aren’t visible where they’re tightly fisted under the table to contain your anger. This shouldn’t be happening, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this, and yet you’re sitting here being scolded like a child for something that’s not even your fault, being threatened with losing everything you’ve worked so hard for, that you’re more than qualified to do.

“Yes, sir.”

“That will be all Bugs, I expect to see that paperwork on my desk first thing tomorrow.” You do your best to leave without looking like you’re actively fleeing the scene, but as soon as his office door shuts you’re practically sprinting back to your office. With the endless pile of paper on your desk, every second counts.

***

You glance at the clock as you grab what’s finally the last piece of paper on your desk. It’s a little after eight and honestly, you’re doing a lot better than you expected. You silently thank Jake’s lunch interruption or else you’d be positively delirious from hunger at this point. Even now, you can feel the all-to-familiar gnawing that comes after a hard day’s work. You’re thankful to be sitting after standing for pretty much the whole afternoon. By the end of the week you should be done with all the physicals except Jake’s, ahead of schedule you might add. You can’t find it in you to be proud, though, as you try to focus your brain enough to read the letters swimming on the page in front of you. Letting out an exhausted groan, you lay your forehead down on the table, as a knock raps at your door.

“Sorry, I’m almost done here, it’ll be good to clean in like twenty minutes!” You call out to who you assume is the cleaning crew, anxious to finish their jobs and go home like you.

“Good to know.” A familiar voice answers as the door swings open to reveal Jake, holding a pizza box. He’s got a backward cap on his head and a gentle grin on his face as he takes a seat in his spot across from you, placing the box on the table and you can feel the heat coming off of it as your mouth starts to water. You’re sure you’re making heart eyes at it as he opens it and helps himself to a slice. “I figured you probably hadn’t had dinner since you seemed so used to skipping lunch.” You give him an embarrassed smile as you finally pull your eyes away from the pizza.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He waves you off with his free hand. “What’re you still doing here, anyway?” You turn back to the pizza, selecting a slice and barely stopping the moan from escaping your lips as you take a bite.

“You said you were staying late and I wasn’t sure how safe that was so I figured I’d hit the gym and get some extra reps. No leg stuff, don’t worry.” He says misinterpreting your wide-eyed expression.”

“You stayed here for me?”

“I mean you’re staying here for us, so yeah. Plus, I owed you after interrupting your work earlier.”

“Well, you’ll be glad to know I’m almost done.” You wave your free hand at the paper in front of you. “Last one!” He lifts his fist in a silent cheer as he chews. You wipe your greasy hands on your scrubs and turn back to the paper, and suddenly the words are legible again. You skim the text before adding some notes and signatures where necessary. You work in a comfortable silence punctuated by the sound of Jake’s chewing. Finally, you set down your pen and sit back in your chair with a sigh.

“All done?”

“All done!” You turn back to the box to see two slices left.

“Those are all yours, Bugs. You earned ‘em.” You smile shyly at him as you dig in. “So, how’d the meeting with Cyclone go?” He looks slightly concerned and you wonder why.

You shrug as you swallow. “Fine, I guess. He wanted to know how the physicals were going. At least I’m ahead on those, they should be done by Friday, except for you, that is. You have until the end of next week.”

“About that…” Jake looks at you sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “I think I’m ready.”

You almost fall out of your chair for the second time today. “Jake that’s great news! Thank you so much!” You pause to swallow. “Wait did you mean right now, right now, or like just generally ready?”

He chuckles nervously. “Just generally. You can fit me in whenever, I’ll be there.”

“I can do it first thing tomorrow if you’d like? Get it over and done with so you don’t have to worry about it anymore?” He nods at that.

“Yeah, that’ll work.” His eyes are fixed at some invisible point on the desk.

“Hey, Jake?” He doesn’t raise his head.

“Yeah, Bugs?”

“No matter what happens tomorrow, it’s gonna be okay. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” He nods, still not looking at you. “It’s okay to be scared, you know? You just can’t let the fear paralyze you, you have to move through it.” He lets out a shuddering breath and you wonder just how long he’s been holding it.

When he speaks again, you almost don’t recognize his voice. It’s gravelly and full of fear. “What if you can’t fix it?”

“Then I’ll do whatever I can to make you more comfortable and we’ll move from there. There’s no scenario where things don’t change, I promise. I can’t promise how much I’ll be able to do until I’ve seen your leg.” He nods again.

“Everything changes tomorrow.”

“Everything’s already changed today.” You say with a small smile. “We had an actual conversation like sane human beings, we shared two meals, and you decided to trust me with your care. The hard part’s already over.” You watch his cheeks flex as he smiles too.

“Thanks, Bunny, I mean it.” You try to ignore the way your heart beats a little faster when he calls you that.

“Thank YOU, for trusting me.” The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before you add. “Hey, Jake? You should talk to Javy. He loves you a lot and he’s really tearing himself up over this.”

He nods. “I know. We usually tell each other everything, I haven’t been fair to him.”

You stand. “I’m gonna run this paperwork upstairs if you want to grab your stuff to head out.” You stack the piles of paper in your arms, careful not to drop them, and Jake stands, holding open the door for you. You give him a smile of thanks before heading off to Cyclone’s office to drop them off.

***

You find Jake waiting with his stuff by the door to the parking garage. “Sorry, you didn’t need to wait!”

He shakes his head with a smile. “You just don’t get it, do you? I’m walking you to your car.”

“What if I’m staying late in an attempt to get kidnapped so I can sue for the money I need for my loans?” You pout up at him.

“I’d say you’re better off trying that on a team with more money.” You laugh. The only cars left in the garage are yours and a silver Ford F-150 that you assume must be Jake’s. “I’d say nice ride, Bugs, but what happened to the front?” He squats down to examine the scratches on your front bumper. “Oh, I hit Maverick on his bike.” His head whips up to gape at you.

“You WHAT?”

“Yeah, that’s actually how we met… He drove in front of me when I was pulling into a gas station. I was freaking out and told him I was a doctor so he’d let me check him out and then he offered me a job interview.”

“Damn Bunny, you’re a hustler.” You blush.

“HE drove in front of ME.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He stands back up. “I know a guy who could take a look at those scratches if you want?”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, they’re just scratches, it’s not worth the money, honestly.”

“I promise you, Mav can afford it. And remind me to never let you drive my truck.” You roll your eyes, unlocking your car and tossing your stuff into the passenger seat.

“Goodnight, Jake.” You say as you slide into the driver’s seat, rolling down the window so you can keep talking to him.

“Drive safe, Bugs.” He gives you a pointed look that says he means it.

You can’t help it, you stick your tongue out at him as you shift the car into reverse. Jake stays and waves you off until you can’t see him anymore. All in all, today was a success, you think as you pull out of the garage. Jake trusts you, except now you have a different problem. Can you trust yourself with Jake?

[zykamiliah]

relationship status: crowley and the bookshop, aziraphale and the bentley

apparently it won't leave me alone unless i write it down so here it goes: the way aziraphale treats the bentley and the way crowley treats the bookshop are metaphors about the status of their relationship and, to an extent, how they relate to each other

i mean yeah that was kind of obvious at the moment i was watching episode 3, but i didn't realize the implications of this particular metaphor until much much later (bc i didn't binged the season), after i watched the end of the last episode.

so here it goes!

i have no idea of other people have already talked about this, in which case i won't apologize since writing down this is part of my post-s2 coping strategies

crowley and the bookshop

crowley doesn't live in the bookshop per se, he doesn't rest there, he doesn't put his plants there, but it is where he spend a good chunk of his time. he's comfortable enough to takes off his sunglasses , meaning he's comfortable being himself there (mostly); the bookshop his anchor, and his world revolves around it.

what's important here is that when tasked with taking care of it without supervision, guarding it and its contents, he changes nothing about it.

i mean he's a bit careless with some books (don't throw them around ahhh!!) but for the most part he does nothing but to keep things as they are. he doesn't try to sell the books, he doesn't rearrange or change the furniture. the one time he does is after the whole business with heaven and hell and gabriel and beelzebub going off together, and he just puts everything back as it was before the party.

crowley loves the bookshop as it is, the same way he loves humanity as it is, the same way he loves aziraphale as he is. he doesn't want aziraphale to change. he takes care of him, helps him with everything he asks of him, is very protective of him; however in the same way he doesn't technically live in the bookshop and isn't a bookseller ("not even at gunpoint"), he has never said how he really feels about aziraphale, despite what his actions indicate.

crowley's love steadfast, and quiet, and there, but never fully realized. same as their relationship. aziraphale has let him in, but not completely. and crowley hasn't dare to take more space than he is allowed, because he doesn't want to lose what they have.

aziraphale and the bentley

in a mirror of how he relates to crowley, aziraphale asks the bentley to do things for him in that kind, authoritative way of his, and they get along fantastically. however when getting unsupervised alone time with the bentley, aziraphale proceeds to change its color, the music it plays, and even adds things to its interior. in its essence, the bentley remains the same, but its make up gets swapped for what aziraphale would like to see, what he thinks it's nice.

the bentley indulges aziraphale, because just like its owner, it's head over heels with him. it'll play aziraphale's music of choice without complain, it'll change his own color and go as fast as aziraphale likes it (which is veeeery slow), and it'll follow him around like a puppy; that's how much the bentley loves aziraphale.

crowley has to scold and demand and threaten aziraphale to get him to change the bentley back. and aziraphale is forced to comply, not because crowley asked, but because his own books were on the line. mercifully, he doesn't try to change the bentley's appearance again, though he still asks it to play him music that isn't beepop.

in retrospective it's glaringly obvious what this is about, which is: aziraphale thinking that crowley should be an angel. more specifically, that since crowley is good, and knows right from wrong better than aziraphale, it must mean that deep down crowley is still an angel. aziraphale just needs to bring it out, to make it happen.

but thing is, i don't think aziraphale realizes that crowley (and the bentley) being good to him in particular doesn't mean they want to be Good in the way aziraphale thinks heaven should be. because there's nothing good about heaven, something that s2 pointed out in more than one occasion.

aziraphale still can't let go of heaven, or distance himself from angelhood the way crowley has let go of hell (and heaven) and demonhood. he was forced to give it up when confronted with the end of the world, but it wasn't by choice. so a part of him still wants to go back; so, when given the chance to do so, he accepts.

this is all part of his character's journey. no matter how many times crowley tells him heaven is toxic, or how many times aziraphale experiences it for himself, he needs to realize it and let go of heaven by choice.

but as for now, he is still trying to pull crowley to his side, back to heaven, because, from his point of view, that's how it should be, because crowley is good! crowley know when to do the right thing! crowley asks questions! so if aziraphale is going to be supreme archangel, he wants to restore crowley to his rightful place, which is high up in heaven, doing good things, inventing things, bringing galaxies to life.

aziraphale's love (presently) is about relying in and allowing crowley to do things for him, about letting him into his safe space, (to a certain limit), doing things with and spending time with crowley, and trying to do what he thinks it's best for crowley. he still can't admit to other people or crowley or himself that they are together even when he says things like "our car", "it's my shop but we both get plenty of use out of it", but that's because he feels shame, and because he still hasn't let go of heaven's ideals and expectations.

which brings us to-

Heaven and God as a metaphor of Home and Family

in a way, what's happened at the end of s2 is that metatron (mom's assistant...?) came back to say "hey so since your big brother (gabriel) has run off with the enemy, we want you to come back to take care of the family business(running things in heaven)." previously crowley had been kicked out for asking questions, has been resentful about the whole thing for millennia, but when asked if he'd want to go back, he is not tempted at all. there's not lost love between him and his the other angels. the two times he sneaked back home(heaven), it didn't look like he was attached, even he was still somewhat familiar with it.

now as for his relationship with mom (God) that's an entire different matter. because he was still cast out for being who he is, for questioning authority, and that's a trauma he still carries with him.

but if crowley was the one that got kicked out, aziraphale is the one that stayed and tried to be as was expected of him. he tried to fit in with his family, even if secretly he was doing things they would frown upon. he'd try not to question authority, he'd be in denial about heaven's cruelty even when it smacks him in the face, because he doesn't want to be kicked out. and when he does get kicked out, somewhat, it's because he had to make a hard choice. but same as crowley, it's not like he wanted to, and he's still an angel, despite his own humanity and all his earthly attachments.

so when given the opportunity to go back home, to take the reins and do things as he thinks they should be done, and consequently be in a good relationship with his family and mom, he says yes. because he thinks that's what he should do, he thinks that's what he wants. mom asked her assistant to tell him that he could come back to run the family business! how could aziraphale say no?

he'll realize he doesn't need heaven, eventually. and he'll make his choice, and once he realizes that Heaven=/=Good, that Love=/=Heaven, he'll be ready to accept crowley as he is, without ever trying to change anything about him. and he'll let crowley in fully.

and they'll finally live together.

[anathemaloren]

flowers and tea

Naomi McPherson x fem!florist!reader

🌼Warnings - 2 curse words? and english is not my first language

🌼Genre - fluff (i guess)

🌼Word count - 3.4k (WHAT?!)

🌼Notes - OH MY GOD, you don't know how much time I've spent writing this like 3k words???? that's just crazy. also, i wrote this in several classes at school, sorry arturo, montse and chus 🙏🏼 and this is dedicated to carolina who tried to peek into the story and i didn't let her, luv ya bubs

Having her own shop was a dream and a nightmare at the same time for Y/n L/n.  Paying the bills, keeping the flowers beautiful the whole day through, being all day on her feet or dealing with rude costumers were all things Y/n wished she could get rid of. But at the same time, she truly loved her job. Being able to surround herself with flowers was a dream come true, and seeing a smile on the face of a happy customer really made her day. Plus, the shop was in a strategic place in Los Angeles where sometimes famous people came through, and she even had a few celebrities who were usual shoppers. Lucy Dacus stopped from time to time to buy flowers in order to dry them, and considered Y/n a friend. Pedro Pascal always bought flowers for his sister from Y/n, and Ashton Irwin loved to stop by for a chat about how to keep his plants as beautiful as Y/n’s. So, Y/n shouldn’t fall easily for a star, right?

          It was a slow day, so Y/n busied herself rearranging flowers on the back of the shop. She was calmly arranging a bouquet of lilies when she heard the bell on top of the door and a pair of shoes rushing in. Curious about who would come bursting in like that, she lowered the volume of the Glenn Miller vinyl that was playing on the background and stepped into the front of the shop while cleaning her hands on her apron. She then saw a person looking like they had run for 10 kilometres, with curls sticking to their red face, and trying to catch some air.

          “Hi.” Y/n said calmly “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Yeah, I think you would be unbelievably helpful right now” they said, making Y/n chuckle amused. “Tell me, what can I do for you?” she said, taking her notebook out, just in case she needed to write something down. The person standing on the other side of the counter leaned a bit on it and tried to arrange the curls around their head. “It’s my mum’s birthday, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot about buying her something, and I love her very much I can’t just not buy her anything, and I’m meeting her tonight, I can’t show up empty handed” they said without stopping, catching a quick deep breath “. So Lucy told me to come here and say to you that she sent me and that you could arrange something with flowers that have meaning for, like… now… could you?” they finished, looking expectantly at Y/n. The girl just blinked a few times, taking all the information in. “Which Lucy sent you?” she asked, testing the person’s connection to her, not truly trusting them yet, even though they looked like a decent person to her. “Ummm… Lucy Dacus?” they said, with caution. Y/n visibly lighted up, smiling at the thought of the black haired girl recommending her to her friends. “Well, you should’ve started with that.” She said, turning around and starting to walk to the back of the shop, turning around again to gesture to the still nameless person to follow her back.

          If the front of the shop was a dream, full of aromatic plants and antique furniture, the back of it was another level of etherealism. Besides another huge amount of plants and flowers, one wall was a window wall, made out of old looking stained glass of art déco style. There was a table with two chairs were Y/n would have tea, sometimes with someone else, and behind the table there was a bookshelf with heaps of books about flowers and their care and meanings. In the middle of the room there was a worktable with a few half-arranged bouquets of lilies of different colours. Y/n moved with ease around the space, and she turned to face the stranger once she got to the workbench, only to find said stranger with their mouth half opened in awe.

          “Are you okay?” Y/n asked, slightly amused with the reaction she was witnessing. The stranger blinked a few times as if to come out of some sort of trance, and responded after centering themselves in the conversation again “Yeah, yeah, fine” they said, making Y/n’s smile a bit brighter. “I’m Naomi, by the way” the stranger said, finally giving a name to the curious person. “Oh, yeas, from Muna, right?” Y/n said, eliciting a nod from Naomi. “Lucy has told me so much about all of you, I don’t know how I couldn’t recognize you the moment you walked in” she said, making Naomi smile a bit. “She really talks about me to you?” Naomi asked, feeling a wave of affection for their friend. “Yeah, she talks about all of you all the time” Y/n said, giggling a bit “. I almost feel like I know you personally sometimes, although meeting you in person makes me realize she forgot to mention some things” she said, standing behind the working table and moving the flowers around to make space for others. “Like what?” Naomi asked, furrowing their brows, thinking that maybe they had given a terrible first impression, when they had been mesmerized with Y/n since they had seen her. The girl standing opposite to them smiled at them coyly before saying nonchalantly “For starters, she forgot to mention you are even more handsome on real life than on pictures.” The comment made the curly haired blush, not expecting the sweet looking florist to be so flirty and straightforward.

          Naomi’s reaction made Y/n giggle, feeling like she couldn’t stop smiling around them. She didn’t know where the confidence to be so bold had come from, either. She then decided to stop messing around and get to work. “So” she said, clearing her throat before continuing ´´, what did you want for your mum?” Naomi shook their head for a second, pulling themselves together about the flirty comment from before, and answered the question “I truly don’t know, I just want to tell her I love her, and flowers seemed like a good option” they said, being truly bad at flowers. “So you want to send a message with these flowers” Y/n said, looking at Naomi attentively. “Yeah, basically” they answered, doubting a bit about the rightness of their answer. “Well, if you want I can arrange a bouquet with flowers that mean that you love her” Y/n smiled, always loving to do bouquets with deep meanings. “Do you mean flowers mean something specific?” Naomi asked, making Y/n clutch her pearls in feigned offense. “Of course they do! That’s my job you’re talking about!” she said, making Naomi laugh. Y/n smiled and walked over to the bookshelf, picking up and old-looking book, with a pink cover and golden details.

          Y/n sat down on one of the chairs of the table, signalling Naomi to sit in the other one. The florist browsed through the book, in which Naomi could only see beautiful illustrations and paragraphs of what they could guess was information about the flowers in the other page. When Y/n finally had all the information she needed, she closed the book and looked up, only to find the curly haired brunet already looking at her. This discovery made the girl blush and Naomi look away immediately, embarrassed about being caught. Y/n decided not to panic, clearing her throat before speaking “I think I’ve found the ideal flowers” she said “. If you follow me, I can show them to you” she continued, while standing up, already blushing a bit again. Where had all the previous confidence gone? The person now standing in front of her was truly messing with her emotions, and they had only met for roughly 25 minutes, even less.

          Y/n waltzed around the room picking up flowers, oblivious to the mesmerized client who was following her. She picked up the flowers and explained their meanings to Naomi “White carnations mean purity, love and beauty; the azaleas are a symbol of womanhood in China, and they are a symbol of love; daisies symbolize purity and innocence; and camellias represent gratitude and longevity” Although Naomi seemed like they were just hypnotized about the girl’s beauty, her words were also enthralling to them. After coming back with the flowers to the worktable, Y/n asked Naomi about their opinion, at which they could only stutter an OK, making the girl working in the bouquet blush and giggle.

          When she finished the bouquet, the mixture of carnations, daisies, azaleas and camellias looked beautiful. Y/n’s talent was something that had Naomi’s mouth open in amazement. Their head couldn’t wrap around the fact that two hands and a few flowers had given such result, the florist’s talent oozing from every aspect of the bouquet. Besides from the big possibility of their mum loving the bouquet, Naomi had also fallen in love with the care and talent Y/n had shown making it. Maybe they had also fallen for the hands responsible of such beauty, and the person who controlled them with so much grace.

          Y/n finished wrapping the bouquet, not really wanting Naomi to leave her shop. But she knew she couldn’t stop a big ass pop star that surely wasn’t going to fall for her. “I think this is finished” she said, nerves flowing through her whole body. “We can go to the front now” she continued, now moving to the front of the shop, bouquet in hand. While Naomi paid with her card, Y/n finished preparing the gift. When she turned around to get the business card she always gave out to first time clients, she hesitated when deciding what complimentary flower to give to Naomi. She finally chose a lavender coloured rose. She nervously put the flower and the card in a bag with the flowers. She didn’t know why she was so shaken, Naomi probably didn’t share her feelings; for fuck’s sake, they had known each other for something more than an hour. When Y/n gave the bag to Naomi their fingers brushed ever so slightly, which resulted in different reactions; Y/n let out a sigh, while Naomi froze immediately. When the florist realized they had spent more time than necessary in that position, she put her hand back as Naomi’s suddenly burned. They just blinked a few times, blushed, turned back and marched through the door mustering a rushed thanks and a farewell. Y/n sighed when Naomi was finally out, leaning on the counter and placing her head between her hands. What a naïve thought, that someone like Naomi McPherson could ever like someone like her. Now, she just had to move on, and try to forget about them.

Lucy Dacus had decided to have a quiet night. She had a nice dinner, placed a few candles and played some soft background music. She then picked up her current read, and with a cup of a delicious tea that Y/n had suggested her, she got ready to relax, plunging down on the armchair she loved the most. That relaxing, though, didn’t last long, as she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, detangling herself and getting up to open the door. If it was her annoying neighbour again, she was ready to throw hands. However, when she opened the door, there was no nosy neighbour on the other side; instead, Naomi was there, nervously biting her nails, and looking a bit miserable. “Naomi? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Lucy asked, worried about her friend’s state. “Where the fuck did you send me?” they just said, spreading their arms exasperated. “What?” Lucy just said, sincerely confused. Seeing as the only answer from Naomi was a pair of widened eyes, which lead to Lucy sighing and moving from the door, signalling Naomi to come in. Goodbye, quiet night.

          After a cup of tea, Naomi had calmed down, and they had told Lucy about those afternoon events. “And when I finished dinner with my mum I needed to vent, and as you were the one who told me to go to her, I just…” they finished, trailing down at the end. Lucy nodded in understanding, not needing to hear more from her friend before concluding “So basically, you fell head over heels for her and you think she doesn’t correspond your feelings”. Naomi just mustered a “yeah” while dropping their head in defeat. Lucy nodded again, leaning back on the armchair she was sitting in. “Well, we can kind of know how she feels about you” she said, smiling softly, making Naomi shoot their head up, waiting for a solution for their problems. “Did you keep the flower she gave you with her card?” Lucy said, already knowing the answer. Naomi slowly reached for a pocket in their jacket, taking out a lavender rose. Lucy got up and moved towards a shelf next to a window, where she saw rain starting to pour. She took a book from the shelf, under the curious stare of her friend. The book was a Victorian guide to flower meanings, which Lucy had somehow managed to thrift. She looked through the book sat on the armchair again. She could feel Naomi biting their nails and looking nervously at her. Finally, she found it. “It says here that lavender roses mean…” Lucy stopped, looking kindly at the meaning “It’s a flower that represents enchantment love at first sight” she said, looking again at Naomi, whose mouth was now partly opened in shock and eyes completely opened. They quickly recomposed and started shaking their head in denial. “Come on, Dacus, stop playing” they said, not believing what Lucy was saying. “I’m not” Lucy replied, showing the book to them. Naomi was feeling a weird mix of emotions, between shock, denial and complete confusion, with a tint of utter affection. Was this some kind of sick and twisted joke?

          Naomi got up and started pacing Lucy’s living room, not sure about what that really meant. They knew they had liked Y/n, call it love at first sight if you feel like it, but something had bloomed in that flower shop, and not only the plants. Lucy closed the book and laid back, deciding to leave Naomi to walk around and calm down. They finally did, sitting across Lucy again. Taking a deep breath, the curly haired talked for the first time in the last few minutes, breaking the silence that had settled itself on the room, mixed with the sound of drops of the still pouring rain. “What do you think I should do?” they asked Lucy for advice, with a hint of somewhat fear on their voice. “I can’t decide anything for you” Lucy said, shaking their head. “I’m not asking for instructions, Luce, I want your opinion” Naomi said, in a soft tone. Lucy sighed and leaned towards her friend “Do you like Y/n?” she asked, not really expecting a forward answer. “Yeah, I think I do” Naomi said with a sincere voice, astounding Lucy, who blinked and talked again. “Do you want to tell her that?” “I think I do” they replied again. Lucy questioned Naomi for a third time “I have her address. Do you want me to give it to you?” she said, and spoke again before Naomi could say anything “And don’t say that you think you do” she half-threatened. Her friend closed their mouth, opening it not much of a second later “I truly want her address” Lucy nodded, getting up to write it on a blue piece of paper. When she finished, she folded it and gave it to Naomi, who was standing up, nervously playing with their fingers. The moment they had the paper, they gave a heartfelt hug to Lucy, and then sprinted to the door. Lucy saw them get into their car and smiled softly. She didn’t mind a night not so quiet if it was for the sake of romance.

Y/n was laying on her couch, one feet dangling off it. She laid there, looking at pictures of Naomi on Pinterest, although if someone asked, she was reading the Rilke book that was now laying on the coffee table next to her. She sighed, turning her phone off and keeping to staring to the ceiling. How was she so stupid that she had been so enchanted by someone who had been in her store for an hour. She stood up and picked up the book, deciding it was enough pining for someone she probably would never see again. She read a few pages, but didn’t last long before putting the book in her lap and looking out the window. She looked at the pouring rain, which she loved. She knew she should hate the rain, but she loved the romanticism of it all, even though she knew she would never have her ever so idyllic love confession in the rain.

          Just as she was lost on her thoughts, Y/n heard the doorbell ring. She wondered who the hell would be knocking at that time in the night, even more with that terrible weather, which truly didn’t invite to going out. She kept wondering who it could be as she walked to the door, expecting to see a neighbour or someone trying to sell her some stupid product. However, the only person she found waiting outside of her house was a drenched Naomi. Y/n’s eyes opened wide as she took the sigh in, with her breath getting caught in her throat.

          Y/n talked, although the lump she felt on her throat made it a bit difficult. “What are you doing here?” she said, not being able to move herself from her spot on the door entrance. “I needed to see you” they said, with a tint of hopelessness in their voice. Y/n felt like flowers were blooming in her stomach, with the leaves and petals tickling her stomach. “How did you know where I lived?” Y/n asked again, nerves now flowing through her system. Naomi looked a bit guilty before answering “Lucy gave it to me, I asked her for it”. Y/n made a mental note of scolding her later, but asked the last question she couldn’t stop pondering about. “And why did you want to see me, Naomi?” she said, not sure if she wanted to hear the response. Naomi breathed deeply before replying. “I like you” they said, making Y/n’ world turn upside down in a matter of microseconds. She tried to calm down her breath, that was now working, but too fast for anyone’s liking.

          However, Naomi misinterpreted the silence, thinking that Y/n was somewhat outraged by the statement, apologizing while moving back to what Y/n suspected was their car “I’m sorry, this was a mistake”. Y/n snapped back then, following Naomi to their car with a quick pace “Naomi, wait!” she said, trying to get Naomi to look at her. The curly haired, which hair was now not so curly as it was soaked and stuck to their face, turned around and looked at her with a pained look on their face. Y/n tried to find the words, but they seemed to be stuck to the walls of her throat. Naomi exhaled, turning back once more to unlock their car. Seeing as the opportunity of confessing was slipping through her fingers, Y/n decided to take matter in her own hands… literally. She got closer to Naomi and took their face into their hands, pulling them in for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet, and Y/n pulled away to see what reaction that had elicited from Naomi. They just stared at Y/n with a look of shock on their face, that didn’t last so long, as their brain decided to finally act. Naomi took Y/n face in her hands and kissed her again, now deepening the kiss. The moment under the rain seemed to last forever, as both their hearts synchronized in loud thumps. When they finally pulled away from one another, the rain kept pouring over them with an astounding force that seemed to mimic the strength of their feelings for one another. They were both soaked as they stood outside of Y/n’s house, smiling to each other like the infatuated idiots that they were.

          “I liked the flower” Naomi said, still not getting away from one another. Y/n laughed, touching her forehead with Naomi’s. “It was not as subtle as I intended it to, I guess” she said, making Naomi laugh now. “I liked it better that way” they voiced, giving a small kiss to the side of Y/n lips. It that was a dream, they both hope they would never wake up.