#and if anyone wants to know i would be Eye myself

[gf2bellamy]

lipgloss — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you leave a lipgloss mark on spencer's cheek content warnings: nothing a/n: i malfunction when i see glasses spencer

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping forward as you rested your chin on your hand. Across from you, Spencer sat at his desk, completely engrossed in his work, the soft scratch of his pencil against paper filling the otherwise quiet bullpen. His brows furrowed in concentration as he made notes in the margins of his case files. 

“Spencer,” you whined, drawing out his name. “Do you think Hotch would say anything if I just went home?” 

Spencer glanced up at you, his honey-brown eyes softening the way they always did whenever he looked at you.

“I think he might,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you could always say you weren’t feeling well. Technically, boredom is a form of mental fatigue.” 

You let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic. “I’m just so bored,” you groaned, dragging out the last word. 

Spencer’s lips twitched in amusement before he returned to his notes. You stared at him for a moment, then perked up as an idea struck you. 

“I’m gonna make myself a coffee,” you announced, standing up and stretching. “Do you want one?” 

Spencer shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s okay. But thanks.” 

He picked up his pen, going right back to his work. You lingered for a second before stepping closer to his desk, your lips curling into a small, mischievous smile. With no one else in the bullpen, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Spencer froze. His pencil slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk. His head snapped up, his face already turning an unmistakable shade of pink. 

Your smile widened. “What?” you teased, tilting your head. 

“You—” He blinked rapidly, his blush deepening. “We’re at work.” 

“And?” You arched a brow, feigning innocence. 

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly searching for a response. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before picking up his pencil again. 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away. 

You grinned. Mission accomplished. 

You made your way to the break room, yawning as you prepared yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed caffeine filled the air, and just as you reached for a mug, you heard loud voices echoing from down the hall. 

Garcia and Derek. 

As you poured your coffee, you caught snippets of their conversation—mostly Derek chuckling about something Garcia had said, followed by her dramatic gasp. They had obviously just come back from their little break.

By “little break,” they meant sneaking off to grab food somewhere without telling anyone. Classic. 

Once your cup was full, you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic, only to immediately flinch and mutter a curse under your breath. Too hot. You blew on it a few times before deciding to just endure the heat, making your way back to the bullpen. 

The second you stepped inside, you were met with two pairs of wide, mischievous eyes locked onto you. 

“Oh my god, it is hers,” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement. 

You froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… what?” 

Your gaze flickered between them and Spencer, who was now sitting at his desk, very clearly avoiding eye contact. His ears were turning a suspicious shade of pink. 

Slowly, you walked over to your desk, setting your coffee down as you eyed them warily. Garcia and Derek were standing on either side of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed, looking like they had just cracked some kind of case. 

“Okay,” you said cautiously, dragging the word out. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” 

Silence. 

Spencer, still blushing, pretended to be very, very interested in his paperwork. Garcia and Derek, on the other hand, exchanged a knowing glance before Derek let out a low chuckle. 

“You sneaky little thing,” he teased, shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” You sat down slowly, still staring at them like they’d lost their minds. 

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Don’t play innocent! We know what you did.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What—?” 

Derek smirked, arms crossed over his chest like he’d just won the lottery. “Your lip gloss.” 

You blinked. “What about my lip gloss?” 

As if on cue, your lips instinctively pressed together, feeling the slight tackiness of the gloss you’d applied earlier. Garcia let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. 

“You left a mark,” she said dramatically. “A very clear mark, right on Dr. Reid’s cheek.” 

Panic surged through you. 

Your eyes darted to Spencer, then to Garcia and Derek, then back to Spencer again. He was already looking at you, and now it all made sense—the blushing, the way he had been avoiding your gaze, and the way Garcia and Derek were practically bouncing with glee. 

Oh. Oh god. 

You leaned in slightly, taking a closer look. And there it was. A faint but unmistakable pink smudge on his cheek. 

Spencer huffed, finally speaking up. “She’s not letting me wipe it off,” he accused, nodding toward Garcia. 

Garcia gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, Doctor! It’s called preserving evidence.” 

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, man. We gotta document this. It’s not every day you get physical proof that you two are—” 

“Shh!” you hissed, eyes widening as you quickly glanced around the bullpen. 

Your relationship with Spencer was still a secret, and the last thing you needed was someone overhearing this conversation. You shot both Garcia and Derek a glare, but they were absolutely thriving off of your reaction. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Derek teased. “It’s just us.” 

You turned back to Spencer, who was looking at you expectantly, silently pleading for help. With a sigh, you grabbed a napkin from your desk, stepping closer to him. His eyes flickered to yours as you hesitated for just a second before reaching out, gently swiping at the mark on his cheek. 

His skin was warm beneath your touch. 

You tried to focus, but you could feel Garcia and Derek’s eyes burning into you. 

“There,” you murmured, inspecting his face. The lip gloss was gone, but his blush? Very much still there. 

Garcia clapped her hands together. “Awww, that was adorable.” 

Derek grinned. “Man, if y’all think you’re still fooling anyone—” 

Spencer groaned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can we please move on?” 

Garcia waved him off. “Fine, fine. But just know—this isn’t over.” 

She and Derek finally turned away, giggling to themselves as they walked off, no doubt already plotting their next round of teasing. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Spencer. He still looked flustered, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips. 

“You okay, genius?” you asked softly. 

He nodded, exhaling as he glanced at you. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?” 

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Yeah. We’re doomed.” 

Spencer chuckled, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile too. 

Even if Garcia and Derek were onto you, at least work wasn’t boring anymore. 

[landopoet]

two prizes.

pairing lando norris x journalist!reader

warnings smut, oral (fem receiving), mentions of alcohol

synopsis that day was not the first time you and lando had met, and he helps you remember that

author’s note posting my older works, thanks to @clovermoters for the collage up top!

♯

Excitement pulsed through your veins at the mere sound of engines roaring.

The amount of people trying to push past you made you anxious, but you knew it was all part of the experience. Everyone was bunching up to watch one of the greatest events of all time— the Miami GrandPrix.

Once you make it through the crowd, avoiding elbows and shoulders of people much taller and energetic than you, the entrance that you need comes into view.

You weren’t just excited for the interviews you were going to watch up close, but also the entire concept of the race. The hustle of engineers in all these garages, working their hardest to get the drivers in and out of the pits with minimal time to waste. Not to mention the drivers themselves, having to sit in the cars for multiple hours over the race weekend with no complaints— they chose to do this, they deal with the consequences.

That’s exactly what excited you. The reasoning for their choice to do this, you wanted to ask each and every one of them why they wanted to do this, what was so interesting?

You guessed their answer would be the same as yours if you were asked why you became a sports journalist.

Keeping your amazement at bay, you observed the race, focused on everything going on even though it was a lot to keep up with. But that’s exactly what you were there for.

You were sitting in the grandstands, intently watching the cars fly past you, when your phone rang. The caller ID said it was your coworker who had also been at the race but disappeared about ten minutes ago.

“Hello?”

She sounded distressed when you heard her voice. “Hey, love. I was wondering if you could take over the post-race interviews?”

Today was supposed to be a sort of intern day for you, meaning you were just going to watch your colleague interview the drivers and better understand what the etiquette is for it. You hadn’t expected to have your first interview today.

“Uh, why?” You asked, in a whisper. “You know I’ve never interviewed anyone before, right?”

“So?” She seemed much more confident in you than you were in yourself. “You’ve studied journalism for a few years now, yeah? I don’t think you’d have taken an internship at SkySports for nothing.”

“I mean, I guess?” You shrug. “I’m not sure if I’m ready to speak to actual drivers, though. What if I make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t if you remember that they’re just people doing their jobs, and you’re doing your job by asking them questions.” She makes a good point and you sigh in defeat.

“Alright, I’ll do it. Send over the information you’ve written.”

“Sorry.” You hear her slightly laugh. “You gotta fend for yourself with that one, hun. It’s a cruel world we live in. Cheers.”

With that, the call ended and you were left with nothing but anxiety weighing on your shoulders. The rest of the race seemed to fly by in mere minutes, your mind too focused on the pressure of your first ever interview.

Well, not first ever.

You imagined the day would come sooner or later, so you’d practise a conversation with one of the drivers by speaking to yourself in the mirror. That, and watching multiple interviews through the years, soaking up every bit of information you could about the process of it.

Before you knew it, you were standing in a sea of people with their cameras, waiting for the drivers to make their way to you.

It wasn’t that nerve wracking when you actually started talking to them, and by the time you got to Daniel, you had lost all feelings of anxiety, instead laughing along to his jokes.

You thought so, at least. A feeling of intimidation crawled up your spine when your eyes locked with Lando Norris, a driver for Mclaren. You noticed the piercing look from across the room as he spoke to a different interviewer, his green pupils tracking your every move as you spoke to Oscar.

The interview with Oscar wraps up and he begins turning away from you. “Good luck on your next race!”

Oscar smiled at you as he walked off to somewhere you could only guess.

If you had been anxious before, you were probably five times as anxious now, because Oscar Piastri leaving the spot in front of you meant that Lando Norris would be replacing him. And, for whatever reason, he was making you incredibly nervous.

You looked down at the ground as Lando approached you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t bear looking up at him, knowing he’s already staring at you. But it was part of your job and you had to stay professional.

“Hello, Lando.” You said, cheerily.

“Hi,” he grinned at you, sweaty and all, his dimples appearing for a split second. “How are you?”

“I’m alright, thanks, how was the race?” You asked with a smile, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of your stomach when he smiled at you again.

Lando’s green eyes studied your face, soaking up each detail he missed since the last time he had seen you. He knows you don’t remember him and he doesn’t need you to, it’s kind of nice to feel something without reciprocation from the other.

After a long while, Lando shrugged. “Yeah, uh, the race was pretty good, I mean, I got first place, so I’d say it’s good. Y’know, aside from Oscar’s incident, but that’s not something we can predict, it just happens.”

You watched intently as he explained the race, your eyes oddly drawn to his lips. The pattern at which they move, and the tempting way he pokes his tongue out to tap the corners of his lips, makes you weak.

This was horribly unprofessional of you, and you knew that, but the charms of this young british racer had worked their magic on you, and you weren’t strong enough to resist it.

You felt like it was just the two of you in the room and both of you were trying your damn best not to break, one for more reasons than the other.

“Yeah, it seems like it was a lucky race for you, the pace of your car was incredible to watch.” You pointed out, looking down at the race data on your clipboard. “The RedBull’s were a bit slower this race, do you think that gave you an advantage?”

“Well, they already win races left, right and centre. They have to be bad sometimes.” Lando stifled a laugh. “But, uh, I don’t know. I think it all came down to the car and my ability to control it. The pace was insane, honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be faster than a RedBull.”

The joke made you giggle and you quickly hid your face by looking away for a mere moment, in an attempt to recollect yourself. Thankfully, none of the cameras were on your face.

“Or it’s just pure talent, I’d say.” You look back up at him, his eyes never once leaving your face. He’s so smiley and it’s contagious, so you can’t help but smile at him, too. “Any plans for the celebration? You must be feeling ecstatic about your first win, so I assume the celebration must be as big as this.”

Lando puts the tube of his water bottle to his lips and takes a long sip, eyes still glued to you. He wasn’t even blinking, far too focused on the shape of your lips and how good they felt that night. That one night you can’t seem to remember.

“I’m not entirely sure, if I’m honest.” He shrugs, tongue poking out to lick his bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth, biting back the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. “I still have to call my mum and siblings.”

“I’m sure they’re incredibly proud of you,” you smile, politely. He’s still intently looking at you, cheeks now burning red at your comment accompanied by his massive grin.

It was time to wrap up your chat with Lando, but, in all honesty, you really didn’t want to. You felt something brewing in your chest at the mere feeling of his eyes burning into you, and it excited you.

Still, you ignore it. You had to stay professional, even if it was all too much to handle. “It was lovely chatting with you, Lando. Congratulations and good luck next race.”

“Will you be interviewing me next time, too?” Lando asks, making no move to walk away just yet. His eyes narrowed onto yours when you looked back at him, an adorably surprised look on your face.

“Uh,” you look away for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I look forward to seeing you again. Maybe.” He gave you another cocky smirk and nodded his head as a farewell, leaving you nothing but a blushing mess in the media pen.

After a plethora of interviews back to back, you were tired beyond words. Your feet were sore, your back hurt, you felt your eyelids close if you stood still for longer than two seconds. The image of your soft hotel bed made you motivated to keep moving through the building and find your way out.

“Oh, hey!” A familiar voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, was it?”

Your eyes find their way to the person behind you and you’re happy to see that it’s Daniel. “Daniel! Hi, nice to see you again.” You extended a hand to shake and he smiled as he squeezed it.

“Was lovely talking to you earlier. You asked such great questions, honestly, it made me really think about my answers, y’know?” You hadn’t noticed how both of you started walking again and he kept up with your pace. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Oh, interviewing?” You ask and he nods eagerly, with the energy of a little boy. “This was my first official day of interviewing, actually. I had to step in for my colleague.”

“No way.” He muses, jaw slack and eyes glimmering with interest. “The way you interacted with me had me thinking you were carrying a load of experience.”

You stifle a laugh and watch the path ahead. “Yeah, well. I practised a lot in my room. You have race sims, I have a mirror and a hairbrush for a microphone.”

Daniel’s laugh echoed in the mostly empty area around you. “You’re funny, too.” He muses once again, shocked by how much fun you can be. “Listen, I know it’s not professional to ask this, but are you free tonight?”

“Oh, uh,” you look up at him and hesitate. “I’m not interested in-“

“No, no,” Daniel waves his hands in the air as if to stop the words spilling from your mouth. “God, no. I was going to ask if you’d like to come to the club later, all of the drivers are gonna be there to celebrate Lando’s win. It could be fun.”

You paused in your steps, brows furrowing as you felt a beam of energy climb up your spine. All of a sudden, your bed didn’t seem like the comfiest thing in the world and you were willing to exchange it for a pair of heels and a dress.

“I’d like that, yeah.” You smiled at Daniel and he reciprocated the gesture.

He gives you a piece of paper with something scribbled on it and you gladly pluck it from his fingers. “Shoot me a text when you’re ready, I’ll give you a ride to the club. Cheers.”

And with that, he disappeared into the car park, the only remainder of his friendly presence being his lingering smell in the air and the scribbled number on the back of a grocery store coupon.

“Thanks, mate.”

Lando’s hand felt heavy as he shook it with someone he barely knew, congratulating him on the win. He’s been stuck in this large group of people for way too long, desperately looking for an escape. And, eventually, he found it— you.

His eyes have been stuck to you for the past fifteen minutes, patiently waiting for the people to finish congratulating him so he could finally talk to you.

When the perfect moment arose, Lando swiftly shimmied between the dancing bodies and made his way to the bar. You were still sitting there, looking as beautiful as the last time he saw you, but now you were right in front of him and he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Lando’s voice startles you when he plops down in a bar stool beside you.

You smile at him, feeling the same anxiety crawl up your spine as the last time you saw him. “I’d say the same, but this feels like the perfect place for a race winner.”

“I honestly hated it before,” he shrugged, looking out into the crowd. “I used to party after a podium, second place being the best I’ve ever had.”

“But now you’re here as a winner.” You’re still looking at him when he turns back around. There’s something so nostalgic about the way he looks at you, almost as if you’ve already been there and seen him before. “A victory looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” He flashes a grin your way, raising a brow. “I’ll try to win more then. Maybe I’ll get to see you again that way.”

“I’m free whenever you want to see me,” you blurt. Lando’s eyebrows raise with surprise when you say that and he bursts into a small laugh when you start flailing your hands around in the air. “Sorry, that’s so unprofessional, I didn’t mean to–“

“It’s fine,” he assures you. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here. But that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Mr. Norris!” You exclaim with a faux gasp. Lando watches with an amused grin on his face as you smile back at him. “I’d like that very much.”

It didn’t take long for both of you to swivel your way past the drunk people in the club and find yourselves in a cab. Lando’s hand made a home on your thigh and you didn’t mind. It felt warm, secure and turned you on when he inched it closer to the hem of your dress.

Time flew fast in the company of a race winner, especially one as charming and attractive as Lando. You didn’t realise how many hours had passed after you had left the club and, frankly, you didn’t really care.

The moments spent with him felt somehow nostalgic, as if you had felt this way before. But you’re sure you just dreamt it. There’s no way you’ve met Lando before and didn’t remember it.

It felt silly to think that, so you just ignored that thought and continued watching the intoxicating way his lips moved as he spoke. He’s been talking about something for the past five minutes and you didn’t hear a word of it, being far too focused on the pattern of his freckles, the dip of his nose and the gentleness of his eyes when he looked at you.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked, voice gentle and cautious.

You bit back a smile, eyes flickering between his eyes and lips. “You.”

The nostalgic feeling snuck its way into the back of your mind when he kissed you, his lips and hands feeling like a long lost home. You somehow already knew the melody of his breathing and the pattern of his hair, the familiarity of his kiss starting a fire in your chest. You felt the warmth of his lust spread through your torso, creeping up your neck, softly toying with the giggle in your throat.

Stars spackled on the inside of your eyelids and the harmonious sounds leaving your lips finally drew you back to that night.

Warm hands. Gentle strokes and soft kisses. Careful fingertips trailing their way down your hips. Lando’s tongue danced on your aching bud and you felt the whole world fade away. The mere touch of his fingers on your hips to keep you still reminded you of the last time.

“Mmh, fuck.” Lando hummed against you, the vibrations sending bolts of lightning through your veins. “So good. So fucking good for me, y/n.”

His tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, bringing you that much closer to the edge. The alcohol in your system mixed with the pleasure coursing through your body was a lethal combination. Your legs shook as you felt your walls close around nothing, Lando’s mouth attached to you as if he was a starved man and you were the first thing he could get his mouth on.

“I’m- I-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before making a mess all over his goatee. He licked up every last bit of you, the sweet taste of you making a perfect combination with the aftertaste of whiskey in the back of his throat.

You stayed lying there, eyes fluttering closed and lips parted, deep breaths inflating your chest. Lando watched you, green eyes soaking in every inch of you— he wasn’t sure if you’d remember him this time, so he made the most of every moment spent with you.

After a while of him watching you, you felt Lando get up and come back in a few minutes, a damp towel in his hands. He touched your most sensitive parts with the weight of nothing, carefulness sewn into every movement he made. At that point, you were drifting in and out of consciousness, not fully knowing when the bed dipped under Lando’s weight again.

You felt his arms wrap around you and pull you in, the warmth of his bare skin heating your cheek. You were hesitant to speak, cautious as to not say something wrong. So, instead of speaking, you lifted your head and connected your lips with his again, the minty taste of his lips making you smile.

“It was you.”

Lando hummed into the kiss, as if to acknowledge that it was him, but also to ask what you meant.

You pulled away, fingers immediately making home in his curls. “That night.” A familiar look painted itself across Lando’s face. “I tried so hard to remember whose lips felt like home, and only the weight of yours reminded me.”

“You were thinking about me?” Lando inquired, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face.

You nodded. “Every day since that night.”

Lando smiled before kissing you again. “You never left my mind. I kept reminiscing that night, waiting for fate to magically bring us back to one another.” He whispered against your hairline, lips pressing soft, love-filled kisses against your skin. “Didn’t expect to win two prizes in one day.”

A small laugh slipped past your lips. “What a lucky man you are, Mr. Norris.”

“The luckiest.” He hummed. “Because I finally have you.”

[tinyfantasminha]

Happy birthday to this grumpy creature and to me 🥳

I didn't plan on making a bday card so I only settled with these sketches but HELPPPPPPPPPPFKGJKDNFJHG HUGE HUGE THANKS TO @amethystjewel01 MY BDAY TWINSIE FOR THIS AMAZING GIFT AND AT THE PERFECT TIMING 😭😭😭😭💕💕💕💕💕AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I LOVE THE BACKGROUND AND HER IDGAF FACE. I LOVE IT SM ITS EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED

(go hype @/amethystjewel01 and their OCs rn 🫵 )

Voice Lines:

Summon: ...Shut up... Just a few minutes...

Groovification: Aagh, I'm almost late! I need to get this eyeliner straight right now!

Home: .......Nnnnhg.

Swap Looks: The mandatory suffering of the morning.

Home Transition 1: I HATE waking up early. I only start to feel like myself after 10am.

Home Transition 2: Cater and Idia are always super set on sending a happy birthday message to me at exactly midnight. Gee I wonder at what hour do those guys go to sleep...

Home Transition 3: Even though it's a pain, I do my skincare routine and makeup every morning before classes. Can't let anyone see these eye bags...

Home Transition - Login: The boys from Heartslabyul are so sweet, they always make sure to prepare a birthday party for me. Trey-senpai must work to the bone to prepare all of those sweets and treats at the table.

Home Transition - Groovy: Yeah, yeah, I'll catch up with the birthday messages. I just need to prepare my beloved mocha coffee first so It'll help me wake up.

Home Tap 1: ...The hell d'ya want? Urk—! I'm so sorry, that was my morning voice speaking. I-It's no excuse to be rude to you...

Home Tap 2: ''What about my shirt''? Um... It's big and comfy to sleep in. What does it say? ......How about we change the subject.

Home Tap 3: Grim says I'm even scarier than Leona-senpai when I get woken up from my sleep. Haha, there's just no way...! Right?...

Home Tap 4: Jack's memory is so good, I told him when's my birthday once months ago and commented what I would want for a present, and he remembered every last detail! T-That's very sweet isn't it..............What?

Home Tap 5: I was so sleepy this morning on my way to class that I bumped into Leona-senpai and almost tripped but he caught my wrist before I could fall. He then said it to consider his birthday present to me. W-what kind of present is that...!?

Home Tap - Groovy: What's with that stare? Did you expect me to sleep in a frilly nightgown? Haha, I guess I shattered your expectations. Do you still think I look cute?

Birthday Login Message: Hey, thank you for the birthday wishes. The guys in the board game club said they're expecting me there. What are those nerds planning...? Knowing Azul, he probably prepared some game in which I need to win in order to get a present for free. Idia got good taste though, so I'm sure he has something super cool for me like a custom game board. Spending time with them is never dull. Ah, but don't tell them I said this, hehe.

[cozmowrites]

Francesca

francesca - hozier

+++++

It wasn't like you to wait. Not for anything or anyone. But for him—brash, fiery, and always burning—you found yourself lingering. You stood in the shadow of the training gym, watching the sun drip down into the horizon, your arms crossed as the evening air cooled.

Katsuki Bakugou was late.

You could hear the echoes of his explosions inside the gym, each sharp bang a testament to his relentless drive. Most people would have been angry, or at least annoyed. You weren't sure what you felt anymore.

He burst through the doors a moment later, his hair a messy crown of blonde spikes, sweat dripping from his brow. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, and for a split second, they softened before narrowing.

"You're still here?" He asked, dragging a hand through his damp hair. "Told you not to wait."

"And yet," you said with a faint smirk, "here I am."

He scoffed, but his gaze lingered on you, his usual sharpness dulling. "Shouldn't have bothered."

"I didn't." You stepped closer, your voice quieter now. "I wanted to."

Bakugou wasn't one for grand gestures or poetic words. His love—if it could even be called that—came in fleeting moments, stolen glances, and the way he always stood a little closer to you than anyone else. It was in the way he'd grip your hand when no one was looking or the fierce protectiveness that flared in battle.

But you needed more tonight.

"Why do you do this?" You asked, not bothering to mask the frustration in your tone.

He frowned, his brows knitting together. "Do what?"

"Push yourself until there's nothing left of you," you said, motioning to the sweat-drenched shirt clinging to his chest. "Until you're more ash than man."

Bakugou's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his hands clenching at his sides. "Because I have to."

"No, you don't." Your voice softened, but you replied quickly, and you reached out to touch his arm. "You want to."

His eyes snapped back to yours, a storm brewing in the depths of crimson. "What the hell do you know about it?"

"I know you," you said, your fingers tightening around his arm. "I know that you think you have to prove yourself to everyone. That you think if you stop, even for a second, someone will surpass you."

His silence was deafening, the weight of your words hanging between you. You could see the conflict in his expression—the vulnerability he hated showing, the fear he refused to name.

"You're enough, Katsuki," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't have to keep setting yourself on fire to prove it."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. "You don't get it."

"Then make me understand."

For a moment, you thought he wouldn't answer. But then, he exhaled sharply, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to him.

"I'm not like the rest of you," he said, his voice low and rough. "I can't afford to be weak. If I don't push myself, if I don't fight for every damn inch, what the hell am I worth?"

"You're worth more than this," you said firmly. "More than your quirk, more than your strength. You're worth everything to me."

The words hung in the air, raw and unpolished. For a heartbeat, he looked at you as if you'd punched him in the gut. Then, before you could second-guess yourself, he pulled you into his arms, his grip almost bruising.

"Idiot," he muttered into your hair, his voice cracking just enough for you to notice. "Why the hell would you say that?"

"Because it's true," you said, your hands sliding up his back. "And because you need to hear it."

He held you tighter, his forehead resting against yours. The world outside the two of you faded, the only sound his uneven breathing and the steady thrum of your heartbeat.

"I'm not good at this," he admitted, his voice so quiet it almost broke you. "At... you."

"You don't have to be perfect," you said, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "You just have to be you."

For the first time, he didn't argue. He didn't scoff or roll his eyes. He simply nodded, the tension in his body melting away as he leaned into you.

"Stay," he said, his voice so soft it was almost a plea. "Just... stay."

And you did. Bakugou was worth it.

+++

masterlist ⟢

more bakugou ⟢

[livingformintyoongi]

The Hunger Games | Kim Taehyung

a/n: Yes, this is not as well produced as the rest of my work because it's a stupid project I'm doing based on this publication I made, because if I'm going to push people to show their never finished projects, then I'm also going to participate showing this fragment I wrote a LONG time ago :))

Warnings: THG!AU, a little angsty, Reader is rather clumsy and soft (yes, I like characters that are shown to be weak, condemn me), and just that, it's short 🙂

"Are you still awake?" Taehyung whispered over your hair, both arms wrapped protectively around your waist. You were almost sure he hadn’t taken his hands off you since he set foot on the arena.

"Yeah, it's hard to sleep knowing that at any moment someone could jump on us to attack," you murmured, snuggling even closer to his chest, clinging to the false hope that this way, you might find some peace.

"No one would dare approach us. Our allies are some of the strongest—we have Chaewoon and Yoongi, two of the most ruthless winners. Then there’s Sooah, Jiwon, and Jungkook, some of the strongest fighters. And, of course, we have Namjoon. He won the games purely with his intelligence. We have nothing to worry about—"

"Taehyung," you interrupted before he could continue, turning to face him. It was still nighttime, and neither of you was willing to light a fire, so the only illumination was the moonlight. Your delicate features stood out even more under the blueish glow, and Taehyung couldn’t help but think how beautiful you looked, even in a situation as hopeless as the Hunger Games.

"We may have the strongest and smartest players, but everyone in this arena has won a game before. And let’s not forget the fact that they all did it by their own merit..." You paused for a moment before continuing, a small pang in your chest making it hard to say what had been weighing on your mind ever since they announced you would be fighting in the Games again. "Everyone except me."

"Honey—"

"No, Taehyung, don’t try to make it seem like I did something incredible, like my victory was as legendary as everyone else’s," you kept your gaze lowered, unable to meet his eyes as you let out all the fears you had kept bottled up until now. "The only reason I won the Games was because I got lucky. We both know it—everyone knows it! That’s the only reason people even remember me out there. ‘How did she dodge that arrow?’ ‘What were the odds that a beehive would fall right onto that player?’ ‘How did she find food that another tribute couldn't get to because of the distance and difficulty?’"

Your grip on Taehyung’s suit tightened slightly, your forehead pressed against his chest as if it could shield you from his gaze.

"I never killed anyone, not a single person. My weapon is completely clean. If someone were to attack us right now, I wouldn’t be able to defend myself. I never passed any trials, not even the agility test..." You licked your lips before continuing, the lump in your throat tightening now that you were finally voicing your deepest fear. "I’m a burden to all of you, Taehyung," you whispered against his chest, feeling how his arms tensed around your waist. "If another team comes after us, you’d be too busy keeping me alive to worry about yourself, and the same goes for the others. I’m a liability, and everyone knows it. There’s no way I can be of any help. I can’t even swim. I can barely run properly without tripping halfway through. And it’s too dangerous for you to keep carrying me on your back all the time."

"What are you trying to say, Y/N?" Taehyung murmured, his grip on you tightening even more. He couldn't even tell where he ended and where you began. "Because if you’re telling me all this just to say we should split from the group, then—"

"You don’t have to come with me," you shook your head, pressing your face against his chest, needing to feel him as close as possible, to the point where you could hear his heartbeat growing louder. "I don’t want you to. I want you to live, Tae. I want to stop being a burden to you."

"You are not a fucking burden, Y/N. You are my fiancée," he growled softly, resting his face in the crook of your neck. You were fully aware of how much this conversation angered him—you had been from the moment the thought first crossed your mind. But it was the best thing, for everyone, for him, and he had to understand that somehow.

"I can’t just leave you behind and go as if you don’t matter to me, because you are the best thing that has ever happened in my life. I don’t want to do it, and I won’t. You want to leave the group? Fine, do it. But I’m going with you," he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours desperately. He needed you to understand how he felt, that he would never, ever leave you alone, no matter what.

"I’ve respected every single one of your decisions, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to others. But with this? With this, you don’t get a choice, baby. I’m going wherever you go. Always."

"It’s dangerous for you to be with me."

"It’s dangerous for you to be alone."

"I don’t want you to die because of me."

"And do you think I do? You said it yourself—you’re clumsy, you don’t know how to handle a weapon properly without hurting yourself. If I leave you here alone… just thinking about it, I—"

He pursed his lips, studying your face intently. He lifted a hand to your cheek, caressing it as if your skin were made of the most delicate and precious material in existence. And to him, you were.

A fragile body, a heart too soft, too easily broken. To him, you were the most beautiful woman in the world—if not the entire universe. You were the love of his life, someone he never thought he would get to meet. But there you were, lying beside him, looking only at him, wearing a ring that, in a few months, would bind you together for life.

"I love you too much to risk your life for nothing, Y/N."

He rested his forehead against yours, noses brushing, lips just inches apart, breathing the same air.

"Don’t do this to us, please, I beg you," he whispered against your lips, running his hands through your golden strands before resting them on your nape. His dark eyes locked onto yours, a quiet smile forming inside him as he saw your pupils dilate, as he felt your much smaller hands clutching his clothes like your life depended on it.

You could say you wanted to go your separate ways, but your body told an entirely different story.

"Stay with us," he murmured, his lips barely touching yours as he spoke. "Stay with me."

Before you could respond, Taehyung closed the distance, his fingers tangling in your hair, his arms pulling you closer until every inch of your body was pressed against his.

You had kissed before, many times—sometimes briefly, other times with deeper emotion. But this? This was different from any kiss you had shared before.

It felt like a last one.

More desperate than any other, yet filled with uncertainty and a silent plea neither of you dared to voice. The hand he had kept on your cheek now tried to wipe away the tears that had started falling—tears he was sure you had been holding back for days.

The kiss didn’t last more than a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Hours neither of you wanted to end.

When you pulled away for air, Taehyung followed, seeking more, needing more. He didn’t want to let you go. He didn’t want to lose you.

"I’m scared, Tae," you whispered between soft sobs, looking at him with so much desperation and fear that he felt his heart clench.

His eyes locked onto yours with determination, trying to appear as confident as possible, to make his words feel like undeniable truth.

"I’ll get you out of this alive, baby. I’ll get both of us out. I promise."

[obsidianpen]

Howdy! Awhile back you mentioned you weren't likely to get back to Enticed and asked if anyone wanted to pick up and write the rest, you could share your plot/plan with them... I'm no where near as good of a writer as you and couldn't do that (it actually terrifies me the idea of trying to continue a fic that you started tbh, you are one of my favorite writers). But I still find myself sometimes imagining what happens in later chapters of Enticed, for instance the big showdown at the end of OotP where Harry finally presents at the Ministry, and then in Year 6 when Harry as an Omega leads to some kind of huge Alpha fight (I imagine something like a massive chaotic bloody fight in the Great Hall where the Alphas are all triggering each other & beating each other to a pulp/dueling while the Omegas hide and Betas run for cover and teachers try to stop it). So, I wanted to ask if you wouldn't mind sharing maybe your general plot/key scenes with us just for fun? And maybe the endgame couples? If not, no worries! :)

sure! Spoilers ahead!

so yeah Harry presents as a delta (omega) during the whole ministry fiasco, ofc, and it’s about as dramatic as you would expect me to make it. It happens during the possession scene and so V is right there - like couldn’t be closer to it really - and loses all self control and sense of self, trying to uh, get Harry lol but Bella, also a delta, is there, and she and Harry’s dynamics actually revolt each other so she’s not affected at all. She manages to drag her lord away to safety (she is the only one who would be powerful enough to do this), where he otherwise would have been caught by Dumbledore.

Harry meanwhile is a mess, and it’s too late for any kind of repressing potion for him. He gets taken away by Dumbles (who has MUCH more self control than Voldemort btw) and is put into quarantine. Poor Harry, it’s not a fun time.

he eventually resurfaces and is told what all happened. He has a nice little chat with Dumbledore about the uniqueness of being a Delta, which Dumbles knows all about, because duh, Grindelwald was a delta. (He also learns ollivander is a delta).

year 6: Harry is getting all the stares. He’s finally able to perceive magic and now he GETS it. He and Ginny (also an omega) have insta-bonded. Hermione is protective and already planning future ministry legislation. Ron is uncomfortable but is still Harry’s best friend and ride or die.

Draco Malfoy keeps a great distance from Harry but can’t seem to keep his eyes off him. Harry gets it because he’s having the same problem with him and about six other alpha wizards. He still hates him.

Harry is no longer able to stay in the boys dorm. He now has to stay with the other omega girls in their special dorm room, which he finds mortifying at first, but then realizes how necessary that is, and grows to enjoy them quite a lot.

Harry is aggressively adopted by Godiva (self appointed Head Omega of the Gryffindor squad) and is forced to be ‘one of them’ (though he still escapes all the time and prefers to hang out with his ‘lowly beta’ friends). Godiva is upset when she learns his name is not Hadrian or Harrison. She calls him Hadrian anyway. In lieu of being able to give him a real proper lady make over, she and Fey (who has a muggle mother as I’m writing her) figure out Harry’s glasses prescription and get him some contacts ‘so that his lovely eyes can be admired properly’ and because ‘those glasses are hideous and you’re going to make us all look worse if you wear them’. Harry is sort of into it once he gets used to it. Snape kicks him out of class when he shows up without them with no explaination.

Harry becomes obsessed with Draco Malfoy. Hermione tells him it’s just because he’s an alpha and says be needs to go shag someone else to get over it. Ron is still uncomfortable. Harry says it’s def only because Malfoy is up to something Bad but he isn’t sure if he trusts himself anymore.

Harry (who has to be even more meticulous with taking repressants btw, because he’s not as predictable as a delta) thinks yeah maybe hermione is right actually but every time a bold alpha dude hits on him he panics and can’t handle it. Godiva sighs and makes it her mission to teach him.

the Myrtle bathroom scene with Draco goes very differently. Idk for sure how that would go but probably Malfoy has been forgetting to take his repressing shit what with how stressed he is and there’s probably some pretty intense hate sex, or at least very close to hate sex and plenty of hate snogging. Is this drarry? Maybe

the death eaters still break in, Harry still goes with Dumbledore, Dumbledore still dies

seventh year starts semi similarly, Harry is out with Ron and Hermione doing their thing and hunting horcruxes but they have a limited supply of the repressing elixir for Harry. Voldemort, being a bastard who still very much wants to kill Harry (perhaps more than ever now, because deltas are exceptional and this makes Harry more of a threat in some ways), puts insane regulations and safety measures around repressing elixirs for omegas, as well as any ingredient needs to brew it, making it impossible for Harry to get his hands on any without outing himself. They eventually run out when they’re out camping in the woods when Ron is with them and they have the locket.

he has no options. Hermione and Ron have to tie him up and help him suffer through a heat when one hits (they’re beta so they can’t help in the uh, other way). Harry is losing his mind halfway through it. The only thing that helps at all is the locket. He somehow gets to it and puts it on. Locket Tom reaches him in a dream and manages to convince a half-mad Harry to say ‘voldemort.’

the snatchers show up first. This includes Fenrir Greyback. He immediately goes insane upon finding Harry like that. But voldemort has been waiting for something like this to happen, so he shows up too.

big crazy alpha duel. V versus Fenrir. Hermione and Ron can’t get anywhere near the insane magic that’s happening, but Harry can. He’s having the wildest magical awakening of his life, and when he commands these two alphas (who he no longer sees as individuals in his current state) to kill for him, they do (or they try to anyway; Voldemort wins)

and then ofc Voldemort is supposed to kill Harry because that was the point of all this. But he sees his locket and Harry’s wearing it and that poses many questions and, well, if he’s going to kill Harry anyway he might as well enjoy him first. Somewhere in the middle of that much more intense and messed up hate sex, he realizes what Harry is, so of course he takes him ‘home’ (and don’t worry either he takes him away from hermione and Ron first or more likely Harry somehow banished them, idk the details there but I would not have them watching that lmao).

uhhhh yeah that’s about how far I had the plot going in my head!

[buckysouvenir]

call it what you want

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day tree!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

The world was quiet for once, but Bucky’s mind was anything but. 

The Winter Soldier. Hydra’s weapon. A killer. They had a picture of him so dark, even he had a hard time believing there was anything else left.

So, he disappeared. For months, nobody heard from him. Not Steve. Not Sam. He needed the silence more than he needed air. He needed to figure out who he was without the ghosts of the past clawing at him, dragging him back into the dark.

But then, there was her.

Y/N walked into my life when I wasn’t even looking. She wasn’t afraid of me like so many others were. She didn’t flinch at the sight of my metal arm, didn’t hesitate to stand by me when I thought I didn’t deserve anyone’s kindness.

She saw me. The real me.

I don’t know how she does it, but when Y/N looks at me, it’s like the weight of the world lifts off my shoulders. She makes me forget the noise—the whispers of those who doubt me, the accusations, the labels. All the liars fade into nothing when I look at her.

And she’s beautiful. God, she’s beautiful. She’s got this way about her, like she doesn’t even realize how much light she brings into a room. She’s fit like a daydream, moving through life with a kind of quiet strength that leaves me breathless.

Sometimes, I catch myself staring. It’s not just her smile or the way her eyes light up when she’s excited. It’s the little things—how her lips twitch when she’s trying not to laugh, or how she tilts her head when she’s listening to someone talk.

And she loves me. Not in the way people love an idea of someone, but the real me. She loves me like I’m someone brand new.

I don’t deserve her. I know that. I’ve made the same mistakes over and over, burned bridges I didn’t even try to fix. And maybe I’ll never learn, but at least I did one thing right: her.

One night, we were sitting by the fire. The compound was quiet for once, the kind of peaceful stillness I rarely experienced. She was leaning against my side, her hand brushing mine, and the words just slipped out before I could stop them.

“Would you run away with me?”

I wasn’t sure why I said it. Maybe it was because, for the first time in forever, I felt like I could breathe around her. Maybe it was because I didn’t want to share her with the rest of the world.

She turned to look at me, her eyes wide, searching my face for something. And then she smiled, this soft, radiant smile that made my chest ache.

“Wherever you go,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “I’ll follow.”

When you first met Bucky Barnes, you didn’t know what to expect. He was quiet, his head always down, like the weight of the world was pressing down on him. He moved like he didn’t want anyone to notice him, but you did.

You saw him.

He had this way of making himself small, like he thought he didn’t deserve to take up space. But when he looked up, when those stormy blue eyes met mine, something shifted.

He’s the kind of person who hides his heart, but when he trusts you, it’s like being let into a secret. And somehow, you became the person he walked to.

Bucky isn’t what the world thinks he is. He’s kind, in ways people don’t notice. Like the way he remembers the little things—how you take my coffee, which books you like to read, even the songs you hum under my breath.

One night, when the compound’s heating system failed during a snowstorm, he built a fire just to keep you warm. He sat there for hours, feeding the flames, making sure you wouldn’t shiver.

It wasn’t just the fire, though. It was him. Always showing up, always caring in ways he didn’t think anyone noticed.

You started wearing his initial around your neck not long after that. A small silver chain with a simple charm. It wasn’t because he owned you or anything like that—it was because he knew you. Really knew you.

Bucky saw through all the walls you’d built around yourself. He saw the parts of you kept hidden, the pieces you thought no one would ever want. And he stayed.

One night, you sat by the fire again, the same warmth wrapping around you. He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“Would you run away with me?” he asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his words. He didn’t ask because he thought you needed saving or because he wanted to escape. He asked because, for the first time, he felt like we could have something that was just yours.

“Wherever you go,” you whispered, “I’ll follow.”

#taglist: @cjand10

[crowsofdarkness]

Vaz Prizrak: Chapter Fourteen

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Agent! Reader.

Content Warnings: language, 18 + implied smut, angst, fluff, violence, mentions of losing a pregnancy, thoughts of taking one's life, an attempt to take one's life. I will give another warning when that chapter is posted.

Summary: Bucky and Reader have been in their own solace while in Wakanda for years. They were finally happy to create the life they wanted and deserved. That was until a new foe came along to dust it all away.

Authors Note: This takes place during Infinity War and Endgame! If you haven't yet, please read Soldat and Dorogaya beforehand.

Tags: @globetrotter28 @sakuracyberhex @chinggay85-blog @bookofriverr @misatxox @that-blonde-girl @cats-chaotic-mind @wintrsoldrluvr @sebastians-love @pumpkin-babydoll @ordelixx @starfly-nicole @j23r23 @baw1066 @capswife

Soldat Masterlist | Dorogaya Masterlist | Vaz Prizrak Masterlist

“Will you stop it,” I smacked Tony's hand from my face. 

“I don’t understand how you’re alive right now,” He pondered. 

My eyebrows rose at him. “Super healing, remember?” 

“Actually the bullet grazed her head, she’s very lucky to be alive,” Bruce said as he entered the room. 

I still was located in the medical bay of the compound, only waking a few hours ago. Bruce had mentioned that he wanted to keep an eye on me before allowing me back on my feet; even if I healed fast or not. 

From what Bruce had told me is that the bullet in fact only grazed the side of my head but if Steve hadn’t pulled me from the lake, I would have drowned. 

“I still think it’s cool if we tell people that I healed over the bullet but whatever,” I joked with a shrug. 

It was weird. After my almost death experience and that dream of Bucky before waking, I had become my old self again. Joking around with my friends and feeling a sense of happiness fill my veins.

Bruce and Tony shared a chuckle. 

“Is she going to be ready? Just because you tried to end it doesn’t mean we're stopping our plan. We bring everyone back in-,” Tony looked at his watch briefly, “-T-minus two hours.” 

“I’ll be ready,” I nodded afrimly. 

“You need to rest.” 

We all looked into the doorway of the room and Steve leaned against the wooden frame, arms crossed over his chest. 

After I had awoken, Steve had told me that I had been asleep for almost twenty four hours. They all thought I wouldn’t wake up. Steve was more worried than anyone. 

“Let’s give them a minute,” Bruce mentioned to Tony. 

Once we were alone, I patted the empty spot at the end of the hospital bed. 

“I think we need to talk,” I said. 

He nodded. “Only if you’re up for it.” 

I pulled my legs to my chest while sitting up. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through, Steve. It was wrong of me to do that in front of you. And it was so fucking wrong to use you like that.”

“You didn’t use me, Y/N,” Steve said while squeezing my thigh. 

“Didn’t I? I used you for sex hoping to feel something. It’s disgusting,” I scolded myself. 

Steve gave a slight shrug. “It wasn’t that bad.” 

I couldn’t help the giggle that fell through my lips. 

“No it wasn't,” I admitted, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks remembering us together, “But I shouldn’t have done that to you. I’m a terrible person.” 

I tried to look away from him but he wouldn’t allow it, lifting my chin oh so gently to look into his eyes. 

“You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, Y/N. I don’t think of you any less or love you any less for what happened,” Steve avowed. 

A smile played at my lips. 

“I love you too, Steve. Even though our night together was amazing, I can’t do that to Bucky; not again,” I admitted. 

Steve nodded with a sad sigh. “I know. It’s always been hard to compete against him.” 

“Hey,” I spoke while grabbing his hand. “You two are not competing against each other for me. I love you both but with Bucky, it’s more than what I feel with you. It’s because of our past together and what we’ve been through. We were both there for each other through one of the roughest parts of our lives.” 

“Bucky always had been a great guy. He’s lucky to have you,” Steve stated. 

“Promise me something?” 

When he nodded, I continued. “Promise that you won’t let how you feel about me stop you from finding love? Don’t let what happened with you and Peggy happen with us.”

“Only if you promise me something?” 

It was my turn to nod.  

“Promise that you’ll have a room for me when you fix up your house?” Steve smiled with his demand. 

“Deal.” 

My lips reached my eyes with how big I was smiling. We chatted for a while, just the two of us like how it used to be; back in our Shield days together. There wasn’t any awkwardness or fear of hurting the others feelings for what we had decided. 

Steve was the only closest person I had left in my life and I was incredibly grateful that he had chosen to stay alongside me even if I had decided Bucky will forever be the one for me. 

“You know, when this is all done, we should give Natasha a funeral. Even if we don’t have her body, she still deserves it.” I voiced my thoughts to Steve. 

With a quick kiss to the top of my head and a squeeze to my shoulder, he agreed. 

“Hey guys.” 

Both of our attention turned towards the doorway of the room and saw Tony peek his head in. 

“It’s ready,” He announced. 

Steve and I looked at one another before he nodded. “We’ll be there in a minute.” 

“Do you need help walking to your room?” Steve asked once he saw me pulling out my I.V’s. 

I wanted nothing more than to change out of this medical gown and into my tactical suit. 

“Nope. Meet you down there?” 

Steve agreed with a nod. 

With my hands clenched tightly around the necklace Bucky gifted me for my birthday, I listened as the men of my team fought on who would wear the gauntlet. 

“I’m the strongest avenger. I will be the one to do it,” Thor stated. 

Tony quickly shook his head. “It’s not only that the glove is channeling enough energy to blow up an entire continent, you’re in no condition.”

“What do you think I have coursing through my veins right now?” Thor chuckled. 

“Beer and cheese wiz?” Rhodey suggested.

My boot stomped loudly on the ground, letting the others know how annoyed I was with this petty argument of who’s metaphorical dick was bigger. 

“Jesus, will someone just decide already?!” I snapped getting impatient. 

The gauntlet with all of the infinity stones sat neatly on it’s pedestal in front of all of us, teasing us with the mere thought that we were seconds away from bringing everyone back. And these idiots couldn’t stop fighting on who was going to wear it. 

Steve gave me a disapproving look and immediately I apologized with a shrug.

“We’re so close so sue me for getting impatient.”

“Someone wants to see her lover boy,” Tony wiggled his eyebrows at me. 

“Damn right I do,” I couldn’t help the excitement I felt. 

Before I saw the gauntlet, I had so many doubts that this would actually work; that we would actually be able to retrieve all of the stones and create our own gauntlet. 

I was tired of dancing with Bucky’s ghost in my dreams. I needed to feel his warm embrace around me again. 

There was a lingering thought in all of our minds, however, one that we were all very afraid to ask out loud. 

“Will this bring her back?” 

My attention turned towards Clint and even though he didn't utter her name, I knew he was wondering about Natasha. 

Sadly, I shook my head. “No. What we went through on Vomir can’t be undone. I’m sorry, Clint. She’s not coming back.” 

I swallowed the large lump in my throat to hold back the tears. 

“So we need to do this right; for her,” Bruce suggested. 

We all nodded in agreement. 

“Which is why I need to be the one to wear it,” Bruce continued speaking. “We all saw what it did to Thanos, it almost killed him. None of you could survive.”

The decision was made and final; since Bruce was mostly made up of gamma, he would be the one to make the snap. 

“Remember, bring back everyone who got dusted five years ago to now, today. Don’t change anything from the last five years,” I reminded him. 

“Got it,” he nodded. 

Steve pulled me close to him and slid his mask over his eyes which caused me to place Bucky’s old mask over my own face. Flames sparked to live, creating a shield to protect Steve and I from whatever aftermath would occur from Bruce’s snap. Everyone else protected themselves in their own way. 

“He’s coming home,” Steve nodded towards me. 

Bruce yelled out in pain as the gauntlet came to live, the sparks causing my eyes to sparkle in awe. In one fast snap, he fell to the ground in pain and we all saw his right arm burned and bloody; an aftermath caused by his snap. 

Steve, Tony, and Thor all crowded around Bruce, wondering if he was alright. Scott and Clint had ventured off to the other end of the room, muttering something to themselves, something that we couldn’t hear.

“Did it work?” I asked everyone. “How do we know if it worked?” 

They looked at me, smiles wide on Clint and Scott’s faces, but I couldn’t ask why they were so ecstatic. I then realized that we were missing someone who had been on this mission from the get go.

“Where’s the robot?” I asked.

A thunderous boom shook the building and our bodies to the core as fire rained down upon us, encasing us in debris and darkness. 

[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1) Chapter Nineteen

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Chapter Nineteen: Mint for Virtue

Summary: (Y/N) runs into someone unexpected at the mall.

            Okay, errands are run…I have some spare change, maybe I can get myself a new book. Ana Huang’s latest book has come out. I could buy that. Yeah. (Y/N) smiled to themself as they walked through the mall. That’ll be good— (Y/N) paused as they spotted the one person they had never expected to see in a regular mall.

            “Kyoya?”

            Kyoya looked at (Y/N).

            “What are you doing here?” they asked.

            “Tamaki,” said Kyoya.

            “Hm.” (Y/N) nodded. Honestly, the word “Tamaki” could explain everything almost all the time, especially the strange situations the hosts got into.

            An irk mark appeared on Kyoya’s forehead. “He didn’t even give me my phone or wallet.”

            “So you’re stuck here?” said (Y/N).

            “Unfortunately,” said Kyoya. “Tamaki couldn’t even be bothered to tell me where he was going.”

            “Well, you can use my phone to call your driver, or I can loan you some money for a cab,” offered (Y/N).

            Kyoya looked at them. “You don’t have to spend money on me.”

            “You’re my friend, and you need help,” said (Y/N). “It’s not an issue.”

            “I would pay you back,” said Kyoya.

            “You’re too polite not to,” said (Y/N), smiling. They trusted him.

            Kyoya’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he heard the words. “Thank you—” His stomach growled, and they both paused.

            (Y/N) chuckled. “Maybe we should grab some food before sending you home.”

            Kyoya sighed. He was really going to owe (Y/N) after this.

l

            “Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere a bit fancier?” asked (Y/N).

            “I’m not going to have you spend more money than necessary on me,” said Kyoya as they stood in line at the fast food shop in the food court. He smiled coldly at (Y/N). “In fact, for all the trouble, I’ll have Tamaki pay you back, as well.”

            Poor Tamaki, thought (Y/N). “Thank you, but it’s no trouble. This is a fast food place. It’s not putting a dent in my money.” My savings, anyways. My little bit of free money? Yikes…

            “He’ll pay you back ten times over,” said Kyoya.

            Oh, dear. “Okay,” said (Y/N), giving up the fight and going to order. “What do you want?”

            “I don’t know how to order here,” said Kyoya. “Get anything.”

            “Two burgers and medium fries, please,” said (Y/N), smiling at the cashier.

            The cashier looked up and saw Kyoya. (Y/N) recognized the blush that appeared on her cheeks.

            “Thank you for your order!” She beamed at Kyoya. “Would you like some dessert? There’s a brand-new item—”

            “No dessert for me,” said Kyoya, bored.

            “How about our new milkshake?” she continued, still trying.

            “I said I don’t want any,” said Kyoya.

            Poor retail worker, thought (Y/N). “Thank you.”

            The receipt came out, and, soon enough, so did their food. As they picked it up, Kyoya saw a scrawled note on the receipt, and Kyoya narrowed his eyes. A phone number. Carelessly, he crumpled it up and threw it away as (Y/N) grabbed a table. He had no use for that. He wasn’t interested in anyone but (Y/N).

            “Hm.” Kyoya regarded his hamburger after taking a bite.

            “Not to your tastes?” said (Y/N), amused.

            “It’s a gift. I won’t complain,” said Kyoya.

            Aha, so he would if it wasn’t a gift. (Y/N) sweat-dropped. That’s Kyoya. “Well, once you’re done eating, I can give you money for a cab and you escape for the sake of your ‘taste.’ ”

            “What are you planning to do?” asked Kyoya.

            “I was going to take a look at the market,” said (Y/N). Not that I have money left to do that. “But I might head home.”

            “What if we walk around?” said Kyoya. “With my name, we can put anything you want aside and come back once I have my wallet to get it.”

            “Kyoya, you’re paying me back for food,” said (Y/N). “You’re not paying for books or trinkets or whatever else is here. That’s on me. I’m independent.”

            “Are you sure?” said Kyoya.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N). “I don’t want you to continuously spend money on me.” They were independent. They were ambitious. They were going to make their own money. They appreciated gifts, but they didn’t need to be continuously spoiled by their friends. That was fine with them. “But thank you for the offer. We can still walk around, if you want?”

            “That would be nice.” Kyoya respected them too much to push. They were their own person, after all. He liked to gift them things—the denim romper looked amazing on them—but he wouldn’t go too far. He would never cross (Y/N)’s boundaries.

            Besides, as long as he got to spend time with (Y/N), he’d be satisfied.

l

            “Small businesses are so interesting,” said (Y/N). “To see people love something so much that they want to make something out of it…it’s inspiring.” They smiled.

            “I don’t see much of this,” said Kyoya. “My family and the families of my peers, they all order things from larger companies. Reliable.”

            “But less personal,” said (Y/N). Kyoya inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I suppose it’s all a balance.” They examined a piece of pottery. “I mean, reliable is good, but new ideas come from—”

            “Hey, watch where you’re looking,” said the old man running the stall. “Shoo, shoo. This is too valuable for some kid to look at or, worse, touch.”

            (Y/N) straightened and flinched back. Kyoya narrowed his eyes slightly.

            “Honestly, the amount of ignorant window-shoppers who try to paw my merchandise,” grumbled the man.

            “Oh, my,” said a woman, looking at the pottery. “Is this Shoin Komatsu’s work? How odd to see them here.”

            Instantly, the man’s attitude changed, and he beamed at her. “What good eyes you have, madame!”

            (Y/N) sighed and rolled their eyes. Their age and class caused people to be condescending, and this was one of the examples.

            “As a matter of fact, they are a bit too high-quality for a venue such as this,” continued the man.

            Kyoya raised a brow. This vendor wanted to disrespect (Y/N)? Very well. Kyoya would handle it appropriately.

            The man continued without any knowledge that Kyoya was planning his downfall. “They’re so valuable that the Komatsu family kept them out of the public eye for generations—”

            “They’re counterfeits, madame,” said Kyoya smoothly.

            “What did you say?!” cried the man in both shock and offense—obviously, Kyoya was right.

            “The blue of this dish looks extremely similar to the kind Shoin Komatsu produces, but the base differs in gradation, and this coating is too clean,” said Kyoya, beginning to take apart the pieces of the vendor’s scam. He flipped the bowl over. “Ah, as I thought. The signature at the bottom has somewhat different strokes than the original.” He looked up at the terrified vendor. “Of course, if it is genuine, then you surely have a certificate of authentication. Shall we get someone to verify?”

            “I—Well—the certificates are all kept back at the store,” said the man hastily.

            “Fair enough. If that’s the case…” Kyoya smirked. “My family has known the Komatsu family for years. If you don’t mind, I’ll put in a call and have my men look into it right away.”

            The vendor was trapped by his lies. Kyoya had won. It didn’t take long for the people in charge of the market to escort him out, and the older woman was grateful enough to bow formally to Kyoya, who waves her thanks off with more humility than (Y/N) was used to him showing.

            “It’s unusual for you to help someone like that,” said (Y/N). They smiled at Kyoya. “I’m glad you did, though.”

            Kyoya certainly hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart—mostly, anyway. It was for (Y/N). They had been disrespected, and Kyoya had rectified that. He wouldn’t let the person he loved be treated so rudely. Besides, a low-brow scam like that was unacceptable.

            However, Kyoya didn’t say any of that. Instead, he said, “That lady is the wife to the chairman of a large economics firm. I’d ever met her before, but by her kimono and ring, I figured she must belong to a reasonably good family. So it turned out alright.”

            “Thank you again, young man,” said the woman, smiling. “Who would have thought I’d come across an Ootori here of all places? I’ll be sure to let my husband know how you helped. He’s been unsure about going to your resorts due to the distance from here, but I’m sure the resorts would do us good coming from such a polite family.”

            “We’d be honored to have you,” said Kyoya, bowing his head and smiling as the woman walked off.

            “So you did it to secure someone’s good favor?” said (Y/N).

            “Business connections are made from good impressions and word of mouth,” said Kyoya, the trained response of someone used to being PR for his family coming out.

            (Y/N) smiled and chuckled. “That’s true, but not everything you said was.”

            Kyoya glanced at them. “Oh?”

            “There was a crow around the vendor,” said (Y/N). “You couldn’t see the woman’s ring.” They smiled so knowingly at him that Kyoya was worried they were staring right into his soul. “Thank you all the same for helping.”

            They understood why he’d done it. Kyoya faltered for but a moment, and then he cleared his throat to respond. “I—”

            Bring! A loud ring sounded over the PA system, and everyone paused.

            “Attention customers,” said the voice. “There is a lost child. Please be on the lookout for Kyoya Ootori. The missing child is Kyoya Ootori.”

            (Y/N) and Kyoya paused and just stared at one another. Huh?

            “His guardian, Mr. Suoh, is waiting at reception on the second floor,” continued the announcement. “Kyoya is 181 centimeters and wears glasses. He has on a patterned shirt and jeans. The child is currently penniless, and his guardian is extremely worried. If anyone spots him, please contact our staff immediately.”

            People glanced at Kyoya strangely and began to whisper. It was strange, after all, for a young adult to be referred to as a child. It was possible, though, that there was something wrong with him…

            A giant irk mark appeared on Kyoya’s forehead. “I’ll kill him!”

            Poor Tamaki, thought (Y/N) again. He was in for quite the lecture (and punishment) from Kyoya.

l

            “Kyoya! Mon ami! I was so worried about you!” cried Tamaki as Kyoya approached reception. He ran towards his friend and jumped to hug him. Kyoya sidestepped and let him crash into the ground.

            “You called me a child because you didn’t leave me my wallet?” said Kyoya, looking down at him coldly.

            Tears came to Tamaki’s eyes. “I’m sorry! I was so worried!”

            “Yeah, and we know how grouchy you get without sleep and food,” said Kaoru, shrugging.

            “You could’ve been terrorizing the commoners,” said Hikaru.

            “You’re scary in the morning,” agreed Honey, and Mori nodded.

            A larger irk mark was appearing on Kyoya’s forehead. “I have better sense than that.”

            “Don’t worry, he was fine,” said (Y/N), walking up.

            “(Y/N)!” said Tamaki happily. “When did you get here?”

            “I go to this market regularly,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I happened to find Kyoya.”

            “You owe them money for lunch,” said Kyoya.

            “But I didn’t get lunch with them—”

            Kyoya glared at Tamaki.

            “How much?”

            (Y/N) chuckled. Kyoya held back a smile at the sound. Ah, well. Tamaki had caused him a lot of trouble, but at least he’d gotten time with (Y/N) out of it.

Taglist:

@roo024

@jmclouds

@yappydoo

@ramblingsoftheill

@girgal73

@rockerica

@nosoyyo1213

@ritzes28

@grippledee-galaxy

@rory-cakes

@neenieweenie

@k03ume

@constellationguy

@paastaboi

@introvertathome

@chaseyui

@jexnight

@snowy-violet

@nanaloverz

[whoops-all-jennas]

Final Duet pt 4. - c.s.

Cairo Sweet x fem!reader

"My thoughts will follow you into your dreams."

Summary: Winnie checks in on Cairo, where she finally answers after a year of isolation.

a/n: Inspired by Omori, if you haven't played it, do. The story is beautiful. There will be no spoilers in this so don't worry about that :)

Warnings - Bullying, Homophobia, Death

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

The hot summer sun bakes my skin as I pour a watering can over my white egret orchids. I take a moment to admire the wing-shaped flowers before putting my watering can away.

It has now been over a year since we missed our recital, gardening is one of the few things I have where I feel close to you again.

This past year I've been isolative, lonely by choice. I know it isn't healthy, but discovering your premature death had a strong impact on me.

It doesn't help that, even now, my parents are never home to raise their child.

When I enter my house, I hear a knock at the front door. I see Winnie's silhouette past the glass. My eyes are lost at the door, deciding if I should answer it or lock myself away in my room once again.

I turn the knob, opening the door to reveal Winnie on the other side.

"You actually answered." Winnie looks at me, shocked. "I was, just wanting to check on you, maybe go out and do something."

Winnie has been trying to get in touch with me ever since your funeral. I've been evading her attempts, I know it's mean, but I just wanted to be alone.

"I guess." I say, in a low tone. I know I need to get over your passing, but locking myself away isn't going to help.

"I wasn't expecting you to answer, I didn't really have any plans." Winnie stands, pondering ideas, while my mind stays blank.

There is something I want to do, but it's not exactly a fun group activity. "Can we visit Y/n's resting place? I haven't been there in a long time."

While of course, your tombstone brings me closer to you, I just see it as a reminder of what I lost. I feel mean for never visiting, but I just couldn't.

"That's fine, it's a nice first step." Winnie says with a patient smile, the same type of smile you'd always give me during practice. You were always so kind and patient with me, even during what I imagine to be the tedious process of teaching someone a new instrument from scratch.

"I'll be back." I say, turning to walk to my back yard. I open the door, approaching the orchids that I've put all my love and time into that I wished I could've spent with you. I pick a few of them, making a small bouquet of your favorite flower.

Winnie and I are walking on the side of the road, the wing-shaped flowers flowing in the breeze.

"Did you grow those?" Winnie asks as I find her eyes before looking at the bouquet.

"I did, they were Y/n's favorite." I say, numbly.

She stares at the flowers. "It looks like you did a wonderful job, Y/n would be proud."

My throat closes for a moment, it has been awhile since I heard anyone utter your name. I open my mouth to speak, but no sounds come out. I opt to replying with a mere nod.

I approach your grave with Winnie staying by the cemetery entrance, white egret orchids whole and hearty surround your tombstone.

I stare at your memorial, forgetting I planted those seeds a year ago. It's a miracle that such a delicate and needy flower as been able to even sprout on its own.

I place the bouquet in front of your tombstone, the flowers flowing delicately in the wind.

"Cairo?" I hear a masculine voice behind me, causing me to turn around. I'm met with one of your two bullies, hulling a small wagon with gardening supplies.

I stare quietly, unsure what to do. He grabs a full watering can, approaching the grave before he waters the flowers.

"These were Y/n's favorite." He says, taking a moment to look at the bouquet I left. "But it seems you already knew that."

He smiles at the small patch of flowers that decorate your tombstone. "I've managed to forgive myself for what I've done, managing to find peace with Y/n's death."

He turns, facing me. "Yet you, you have nothing to be forgiven of, but you still let the weight of her passing pull you down. Why is that?"

For the first time in a year, anger bubbles past my numb surface. "You forgave yourself? After everything you've done to her that is not your responsibility."

He looks away for a moment. "I don't mean how I treated her. I'll never be able to forgive myself for that."

I find myself lost in my emotions. "What do you mean then?"

He looks at me, shocked. "Do you really not know?"

"Not know what?" I ask, now more confused than anything else.

He goes silent for a moment, his throat restricting his voice. "Y/n didn't just trip and fall down the stairs..."

He slips through the backyard, sneaking into your house through the backdoor. His footsteps fill the empty, dark house as he navigates up the stairs.

The door to your room opens as he twists the knob, quickly searching all the bookshelves to find your book of memories. He hears the front door open as he pulls it off the shelf, leaving the room as fast as possible.

He heads towards the stairs, you halfway up them. "What're you doing in my house?!"

He took a step back, shocked to find you here. "Taking back what's ours."

You quickly ascend the stairs, anger in step. "Yours?! I made that! You abandoned me!"

"Abigail said you threw it away one night before she gave it back to your mom!" He shouts. "You don't deserve it!"

You grab the book, trying to yank it out of his hands. "You think you deserve it?! Please! As if your homophobic ass does!"

He resists, pulling back on the book. "Let go, Y/n!"

"No!" You continue pulling as sweat builds under your palms.

Your grip slips, causing you to fall backwards, your body tumbling down the stairs. The loud thunks of your body hitting the steps fill the silence of the house until you land on your head at the bottom, your neck contorting to the pressure.

He stood there shocked, looming over your body from the top of the stairs.

Suddenly, a loud knocking is heard at the front door. He pulls himself together, quickly descending the stairs, leaving through the back.

"I turned myself in a month after her funeral." He says, staring at the ground, guilt squirming through his body. "I couldn't stay silent anymore, the guilt of what I did was destroying me."

I stand there silently, feeling numb to the truth just like how I felt the past year to your passing. I turn around, taking my first few steps to leave.

"Wait, Cairo." I stop in place to his voice. "Do you think I deserve forgiveness?"

Even though he says he's forgiven himself, it's clear he hasn't. The guilt of your death eating him from the inside out.

"I don't believe I'm in the mental state to answer." I respond, truthfully.

I walk back to the entrance, thinking about his words.

'Yet you, you have nothing to be forgiven of, but you still let the weight of her passing pull you down. Why is that?'

I find Winnie by the entrance. "I know something else I'd like to do, if that's okay."

My violin case rests over my shoulder, the dust from lack of use falling onto the street with each step. For the first time in a year, I hum that familiar tune you loved so much as we approach the school.

The sun is beginning to set beyond the horizon, finding the rays of golden hour nostalgic to your presence.

We walk through the back entrance, closest to the music room. The silence of the hall deafening as we approach the forgotten room, it's as if I can still hear you playing piano, muffled through the wall.

Winnie opens the door, revealing a dark room before flipping the lights. The same fluorescent light in the corner flickering.

The room looks more abandoned than before without you maintaining it, cobwebs and dust litter the room.

"Is it okay if I'm here alone for a minute?" I ask, quietly.

Winnie nods, giving me a patient smile.

I approach a music stand, setting it up to be able to be read from standing. The zipper of my violin case tears through the silence of the room, finding the picture we took on the first snowfall of January. You have the widest, happiest smile while my face is flushed red, looking away from the camera.

For the first time in a year, a smile finds my face as I reminisce.

I take the sheet music out of the case, placing it on the music stand. I stare at the blank space where a title should be, noticing small writing in blue pen at the top of the page in your handwriting.

why don't you think of a title for me? you read a lot, you must know plenty of words

I stare at the words for a moment, seeing merely your handwriting having a clear effect on me. I grab my violin, admiring the flowers engraved in the glossy wood before I check the tuning of the strings.

I tighten the bow and apply the resin, before doing the warm up exercises you taught me.

My eyes find the sheet music, hesitating for a moment as I take a deep breath.

I close my eyes, feeling your presence behind me, sitting in front of a glossy black piano. I'm standing on a stage, facing a small audience I can't see through a spotlight being cast over me.

The beginning notes of a piano fill the stage, your fingers gliding over the keys. The notes descend from it's initial high notes until it reaches a deep, low note. You transition the notes back up an octave, finding the middle of the piano.

The last note is followed by a chord as the tempo increases slightly, creating a bright atmosphere.

I slide my bow across the strings of the violin, the note stretching across the concert hall.

As I play, I can't help but reminisce on all the times I spent with you. The hours we spent in the music room, your patient smile guiding me calmly as you teach me the instrument I'm performing now.

I remember your tears the first night we stayed at my house, staining my clothes the same way you pleasantly stain my memories. My arms lulling you to sleep as I hold you comfortingly.

I feel the cold on my hands as I roll a snowball on the ground near you, making the biggest snowman I have, or will ever make. After we had a little snowball fight we warmed up by the fire. There's hardly a better feeling than thawing out after a cold day, but doing it with you is the true experience.

My legs find the red and white quilt on the soft grass as you place a flower crown over my head. This was the day you gave me the violin I'm playing. I will never forget the excitement on your gleeful face when you revealed the recital we were performing at.

That flower crown you gave me resides above my bed, wilted, but the memories still intact.

I see the blank audience once again, the experience I'm living that never happened. I draw out the final note of the song, feeling your presence fading behind me. A bare piano lies in your place, yet still warm by the idea of you.

I open my eyes, the complete song branding into my memory for the first and last time. I'll never get to hear the complete song again, as I will follow your wish of it being our song that no one else will perform.

The abandoned music room settles around me, clashing with the clean and well-lit stage I was imagining. It feels as if a weight was lifted off my chest, even if your presence will fade, the memories will not, and I won't let my grieving tarnish my happy ones.

I find a blue pen, drawing it to the blank space. There's only one thing I can think of that suites your masterpiece, albeit a long title.

My Thoughts Will Follow You Into Your Dreams

a/n: The song that's linked in all parts is the song you made in the story.

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Snippet Sunday… eh Monday

I was tagged by the fabulous @optimisticgrey to share a writing snippets and since time is relative and a social construct am I still posting something 💜

Tagging (in case you haven’t done it yet and have WIPs you want to share) @astarioffsimpmain @saintsandsorcery @ladylucksrogue and anyone else who wants to share their writing with the world 🤩💖

The following is a snippet from an OS currently titled “You are enough” and features druid!Tav with their own secrets, Gale and an enchanted meadow in act 2 👀

His brows furrow together and he is silent for a moment.

“You…”, he seems lost for words, I don’t think I have ever seen him speechless before.

“You have never been with anyone? You of all people? Apologies, I just assumed…”, he was trailing off, struggling for words.

“I’ve seen the way people look at you, the way our companions all wanted to invite you to private moments, sharing wine and bodies. I suppose I wasn’t so different to them after all. And I assumed since you must have had the world to choose from all of your life, judging from the behaviour of our companions that, well…”

Gale looked at me, eyes big and wet and his shoulders dropped.

“I am sorry I assumed details of your private life that are only your concern”, he said as his demeanour changed.

His eyes were suddenly burning into mine and he made a careful step closer to me.

I felt myself move towards him.

“What makes you think that I would want you any less after you would share this personal, intimate detail with me?”, he suddenly asks with a low voice.

“I haven’t said that”, I croak out but he is right, of course he is, this was my only fear.

“But your eyes have”, he said softly, a gentle smile dancing over his lips.

“I guess I was afraid”, I begin to answer. “Afraid that you would want an experienced lover, not some druid with the romantic experience of a fawn…”

He looks at me perplexed.

“I want you! Please, you have to know that I meant what I said – I am in love with you! All of you is what I adore, all the secrets you hide —“

This was my only secret, I promise”, I interrupt him and Gale shakes his head with a smile.

“And even if it wasn’t, they are a part of you, you, the one I love, you, the one I want to look at for the rest of my life…”, he answers and points to me on each ‘you’.

My heart races and my soul can not believe it’s luck and I smile, without my doing, without any control of my features.

Happiness is seeping out of me and into the world around me, I can not look away from Gale and his sincere eyes on me.

“And I also meant what I have said”, I tell him, “I am in love with you, too! And I will not allow you to blow yourself up, we will find another way! This will not be the end, not for you, not for me, not when we just found each other!”

[clarisse0o]

The Mayor - Chapter 34

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternate Universe: Mayor and Architect

Words: 700

Masterlist

———————————————————————

  I joined her in her car that Monday evening, parked outside my apartment, with a tinge of apprehension.   I was somewhat dreading this evening, wondering how it would unfold.  

Our kiss was brief, distant.  

I was the one to break the silence.  

 "Really, once again, I’m sorry for those late-night texts..."   

 "It’s fine, let’s not bring up your childish antics at night again, Ona!"   

The evening had started, I thought. I chose not to respond to her provocation, changing the subject instead.  

We talked about everything and nothing in particular, in an atmosphere that was rather peculiar and quite cold.  

Halfway through the drive, I received a message from Alexia. She sent me a photo of all of us from the party, dancing on a table. I burst into laughter suddenly, unable to hold it back.  

 "What’s so funny?"  Lucy asked, glancing at me.  

 "Nothing, just a picture Alexia just sent me!"   

I bit my lower lip. Why had I said that? Unsurprisingly, she followed up.  

 "From your little party?"   

I should’ve thought before I spoke.  

 "Yes, yes..."   

 "With your girlfriend?"   

I immediately replied.  

 "I told you, Lucy, she’s not my girlfriend."   

She didn’t look at me, her eyes fixed on the road.  

 "Since we’re on the topic, can I know how many girls you’re sleeping with at the moment?"   

Her question made me jump. She was looking for a reaction. Before I could answer, she added:  

 "Because honestly, we’ve never really talked about it! How many?"   

Her tone was haughty, cutting, and downright irritating. I was boiling inside.  

 "Look, I’ve lost count!"  I replied with irony.  

Faced with provocation, I had chosen to respond with provocation. At the next roundabout, she didn’t go straight and instead made a U-turn.  

 "What are you doing?"  I asked, surprised.  

 "I don’t really feel like going to that exhibition anymore, you see..."   

 "Fine, suit yourself."   

A silence followed, lasting several long minutes. The tension was palpable, and the evening was turning into a nightmare. As we neared the starting point, I decided to break the heavy silence, letting my frustration slip out.  

 "Why are you acting like this? Huh? I didn’t do anything with that girl or with anyone else. And anyway, you told me you didn’t care! So what’s your problem? The whole 'I don’t care, do what you want'—those were your words! So why does it matter to you if I’m sleeping with half the town?"   

I was fuming, out of control, nerves frayed.  

She pulled the car over to the side of the road, right at the city entrance.  

She turned to me, her gaze unusually serious.  

 "Ona, it would bother me if you were sleeping with half the town. And it did bother me seeing you, Saturday morning, with her, dancing on that float, with her..."   

So, she had seen me on that float.  

 "I told you, she’s a friend, she was just having fun with the situation!"   

 "Having fun with the situation?"  she asked, surprised.  

 "Yes, she knows about us, and, well, she wanted to see how you’d react. That’s Marion; she’s like that!"   

 "Very funny, indeed! So, she knows, then?"   

I replied, visibly annoyed.  

 "Yes, Lucy, she knows! But she lives in Paris, and I doubt she’s going to sell the scoop to  Paris Match !"  I added with a hint of sarcasm.  

I continued,  "You see, normally, I tell my friends everything, especially when it comes to relationships. But this time, I can’t say anything, not even to Alexia. I have to keep everything to myself."   

She looked at me, searching for her words.  

 "Look, it’s a bit of a unique situation, I know, but..."   

I cut her off.  

 "Do you want me to be honest with you? I was hurt, upset when you called me an experiment. I know I can’t expect anything, but it stung. This hidden relationship, kept out of sight—it was exciting at first. But now, it’s weighing on me, okay? I want more. There, I said it: I want more. My late-night texts, as you call them, they mean something! I wanted to see you, I even wanted you to meet my friends. I have feelings for you, do you understand? Romantic feelings!"   

My words poured out of me like a flooded river—fast, sharp, and uncontrollable.  

Lucy stared at me, seemingly stunned by what I’d just said.  

 "I don’t know what to say, Ona,"  were her only words.  

My heart was pounding. I felt suffocated in that car, desperate for air.  

 "I’m sorry, I need to step out, take a walk!"   

She didn’t say a word, letting me go.  

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.212 Tropical storm Chi Chi

Despite the joy I felt from Maira's news, I still felt...off. My emotions were all over the place, and I kinda wanted to be alone to sort myself out. I'd usually go for a jog or something, but I didn't want to leave the comfort and safety of my home. So, as much as I could, I stayed away from my girls. Luckily, Desiree was more interested in her Winterfest gifts, and Sophia had chores to do. I thought I'd grab some food and eat in the living room because it's quiet in there, but no sooner than I sat down, someone knocked at the front door. I groaned at the loss of my me time and for my nerves; it was Chi Chi. She came in, yammering on about her grandson, Titus, and how cute he is, and how big he's getting, and how much she loves him, and how her daughter is pregnant again, and how she hopes she and the boyfriend plan to get married. I had eaten several bites of my pineapple fried rice before she really noticed me.

"You're looking mighty relaxed and happy, mister! Sophia gave you some extra Winterfest loving?"

"Ha. Something like that. You look rather refreshed yourself. We just got back from Mt. Komorebi."

"Oh, that's old news. I let this fancy business guy try to impress me with a weekend Sulani trip a few weeks ago. I knew it wasn't going to work, but I appreciate the tan, ha ha!"

Sophia came downstairs, and Chi Chi hopped on her like flies on dog poop. I don't recommend anyone getting caught in Chi Chi's tsunami of words, but I was glad to get her attention off me. I tried to ignore them and go back to my space, but I couldn't help but eavesdrop. After all, they were just a few feet from me, and Chi Chi was way too eager to discuss this alleged glow I have about me. Hearing my wife and my friend gush about good I put it down was not the way I saw my evening going, but at least they weren't talking about the fire. I know if it came up, she'd slip into supportive friend mode quick and smooth like a ninja. Caring and making you feel seen is one of her best traits, but that's just not what I want right now.

They talked and giggled some more, and I finished my dinner. At some point, though, I heard little feet overhead stepping toward the stairs. I should have known an unfamiliar voice would draw Desi away from her play time. Sure enough, she traipsed downstairs, and Chi Chi could not contain herself.

"OH my word!! Look at how big you are! You are just the cutest thing!! She looks so much like both of you!! And those eyes! Hello, gorgeous! Oh, she's gonna be so much trouble when she's a teenager!"

Desi stared at her, half smiling and kinda dazed. I snickered because I knew that exact feeling.

"Mommy," she whispered, "who's this?"

Sophia and Chi Chi laughed.

"You don't have to be afraid of little ol' me! I'm Chi Chi! I met you when you were just a cute little thing!"

"Chi Chi is a friend of ours," Sophia said.

I'm sure we all breathed a sigh of relief when her phone buzzed.

"Oh, I've got to run. Karmi Karms isn't feeling too well; you know how the first trimester is. Why she doesn't ask the boyfriend for help is beyond me. I know a girl needs her mother, but what's the point of having a man in the house if he's useless?! Anyway, happy New Year's Eve, everybody! I'll see you soon!"

And with that, she disappeared as quickly as she arrived. She is something else. With peace restored in our home, heh, and Desi looking to be social, I seized the opportunity I wanted from this morning.

"Hey, Des, you wanna do yoga with me?"

"YEAH!!"

We changed into our workout gear and went outside. It's too bad Sophia isn't into wellness. We could do yoga as a family.

Desi chose a mat, and I took the one in front of her.

"You're good at mimicking the moves, but now you need to understand why you're doing them and how to get the most out of them."

She was so excited; she couldn't stay still.

I got into position for a pose, and she followed.

"This is called the downward dog pose."

Of course, the name made her giggle. I got up to make sure she did it right and to provide more instruction.

"This is one of the most basic poses. Plant your feet flat on the mat and try not to get on your toes. You should feel that stretch going all the way up your leg. Do you feel it?"

"I feel it!"

"Good. You should always plant your feet flat on the mat and dig your toes into it. That'll keep you balanced and give you a strong footing. But also when you do yoga, you want to create resistance to stretch all your muscles, so that's another reason."

I took her through all the basic poses, and then we did them together. It gave me the calm I needed, and barring anything bad happening tomorrow, I'd say the year ended on a good note.

Chi Chi's grandson!

[serickswrites]

Eyes Like Fire VIII

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Hero was beyond frustrated. Everything they had tried hadn't worked. Everything they had read about had been wrong. With each failed attempt to exorcise Villain, with each failed attempt to banish Villain, Hero grew more and more frustrated.

Villain, however, seemed to enjoy watching Hero try. "Perhaps this next one," they said as they patted the hellhound on the head, "will be the correct one."

"It's useless!" Hero said as they threw their book down. This was so clearly beyond their knowledge that there was no way they would be able to rid themself of Villain without help. And they weren't ready to face the consequences of letting Organization know what they had done.

Villain smiled. "You're trying really hard. You'll get there. And I'll get to go home. We'll get to go home. Won't we?" Villain scratched the hellhound's chin. It wagged its massive tail harder.

"Why can't you just leave? I've ordered you to." Hero collapsed on the couch next to Villain.

"I told you, many times, fair Hero, that for whatever reason I can't. I shall do everything else you order, so long as it's not impossible."

"I thought demons can do anything they wanted."

Villain shook their head. "One: no. Two: some demons are more powerful than others. But if something is impossible, it's impossible."

"That's dumb," Hero said as they watched Villain pet the hellhound.

"That's Hell for you. What should we do with our time now?" Villain turned their fiery gaze to Hero.

Hero let out a sigh. "What do you want to do?"

Villain considered a moment. Hero half expected them to come up with some particularly dastardly plan. They were shocked when Villain looked at them, fiery eyes burning bright, "What do you like to do for fun?"

"Why?" Hero asked skeptically. Surely this was some kind of trap. Villain was a demon after all.

"Because I want to know. I'm bound to you. I may as well find out what you enjoy."

"So you can use it against me?"

Villain shook their head. "You're not going to be able to release me, there's no point in me trying to hurt you."

Hero sighed. "I will keep researching exorcisms."

It was Villain's turn to sigh, their hellhound echoing the sound. "And I will continue to tell you, those won't work on me. I'm not possessing anyone. I built this body myself."

Hero rolled their eyes. Demons lie. Villain was lying. Hero opened the refrigerator as their stomach growled. The hours of trying different exorcisms had worked up an appetite. They groaned. It was empty.

"Come on," Hero said grabbing their keys.

Villain's eyes lit up, if that was possible for them to light up any more than they already did, "Where are we going?"

"To the grocery store. For food. Humans have to eat. You have a human body, it needs fuel, too."

The hellhound gave a small whine. "No, you stay here," Villain said, patting the hound on the head. "And I will see if we can get you something at this 'grocery store'."

"What does it eat, exactly?"

Villain smiled, "Why the souls of the damned of course."

"You know, I think that's a specialty item that my local grocer probably doesn't carry." The souls of the damned. Hero had to get rid of Villain somehow.

"Let's give this one a shot," Hero said a couple of weeks later as they highlighted the spell. They had been trying for weeks at this point. Though, the last couple of attempts were halfhearted at best. Hero found themself growing used to the demon.

They had grown used to the strange, incessant questions. They had grown used to the humming at all hours of the day. They had grown used to the delighted smile Villain gave them each time Hero found something new for villain to try. They hated to admit it, they were growing used to the demon. And the beautiful body it inhabited.

Villain didn't even get off the couch. They stared at Hero, their fiery eyes rolling as they spoke. "I keep telling you, you're wasting your time. Why don't we do something more fun? What shall we do today?"

Hero was beginning to grow used to the flames that made Villain's eyes glow. Hero had taken the last few weeks off work. They had been working more than overtime the last couple of months, they were entitled to a vacation. They just left off the part where the vacation was a staycation so they could figure out how to exorcise the demon they had accidentally bound themself to. Today was their first day back at work. "I just have to wait for my next assignment. I'm sure I'll get one--"

Hero went silent as their phone pinged.

Villain grew excited. "A mission! How exciting! I can help you. And then you can do another. And another! What is our task?"

Hero swallowed. This was not good. "Supervillain has been sighted."

Villain froze. "Not possible. They can't enter this plane of existence."

Hero handed the phone over to Villain. "Well, apparently a lot of things we thought weren't possible, Villain, are. And Supervillain is here."

Villain's face paled. "We have to run. They will destroy everything in their path."

Hero shook their head. "My assignment, Villain," Hero said with a humorless laugh, "is to send Supervillain back to Hell."

Tags: @wankusbonkus @st0rmm @pigeonwhumps @eyehartart

@mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe @pepeniascat

[hotchreidwriter]

💌: Letter💌: A.H 💕 = Day one

Paring: fem!BAU!reader + Aaron Hotchner

Summary: In the midst of a long and grueling day at the BAU, you return to your desk in the bullpen, exhausted and ready to head home. But something unexpected catches your eye—a letter addressed to you in Aaron Hotchner’s handwriting. As you open it and begin reading, you're confronted with an intimate, raw confession from Aaron, revealing emotions he rarely expresses. His words will change the way you view him and stir something deep within you. Now, you're left wondering what to do with the quiet, yet powerful feelings he's placed in your hands.

Content : letter from Aaron , your crush you had no idea he cared for you this much .

Content warning : The letter is an intimate, vulnerable, romantic, unspoken feelings from Aaron . [ Your name ] is mentioned, Sorry I’ll work on that .

Word count 1.4k

Author notes : I wanna start doing this in add Aaron’s thoughts as he’s writing her in add her thoughts as she’s reading them ..

Back to December Is what I was listening to while writing this .

Aaron sat at his desk, the hum of the office filling the quiet space. It had been one of those days—full of cases, briefings, and the weight of the world on his shoulders. But as he stared at the piece of paper in front of him, his mind kept drifting back to you.

He’d tried to push these thoughts aside, convinced that it was best to keep his emotions locked away, but tonight, it felt different. He couldn’t ignore how much you meant to him anymore.

This isn’t easy, he thought, pen trembling slightly as he began to write. You don’t do this, Aaron. You don’t let anyone in. But she… she’s different.

He ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply before he began again. He would keep it simple.

Straightforward. He was never good at flowery words or over-the-top sentiments. But this… this was real. And that, more than anything, was what he wanted to convey.

💌: 💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💌:

My Dearest [Y/N],

I’ve never been one for grand gestures or words that flow easily, but there are some things that must be said—things that I can't keep to myself any longer.

From the moment you joined the team, I could see something in you that was different. Your sharp mind, your unwavering dedication, and the way you hold yourself with strength and grace—these are things I admire deeply. But over time, I began to see more than just your professional excellence. I started to notice the small things—the way you listen, how you can make anyone feel heard, how your presence brings a sense of calm to even the most chaotic of days.

It's difficult, for someone like me, to articulate what I feel. I tend to keep things inside, believing that my actions speak louder than words. But I can no longer deny how deeply you’ve come to mean to me. You’re not just a colleague or a friend—though you are both of those things in the most important ways. You are someone I care for, someone I cherish more than I ever anticipated.

I love the way you challenge me to see things from a new perspective, the way you never hesitate to speak your mind, even when it’s not the easiest thing to do. There’s a strength in you that mirrors my own, and I find myself leaning on it more than I ever thought I would.

I suppose I’ve always been afraid of allowing myself to feel too much, afraid of losing control of the boundaries I’ve set for myself. But with you, those walls have started to fade in ways I can’t explain. Your presence has become a quiet refuge for me, a place where I feel like I can breathe without all the pressure of the world on my shoulders.

I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I do know that, for as long as you’ll have me, I want to be there for you. In the moments of quiet, in the days when we’re fighting battles we may never win, I want to stand beside you, offering my support as you’ve done for me so many times.

I don’t expect anything in return, but I needed to tell you this. I needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if it’s difficult for me to put it into words.

Yours,
Aaron

💌:🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸💌:

The day had been a blur—case after case, briefings, and the steady hum of the bullpen as everyone wrapped up for the night. You walked down the hall toward your desk, the familiar bustle of your colleagues filling the air.

You were ready to head home, mentally exhausted, but something stopped you in your tracks as you neared your workstation.

There, in the middle of your desk, was a plain envelope. At first, you thought it was just another piece of paperwork someone had left behind, but then your eyes caught the careful, unmistakable handwriting on the front: [Y/N].

A chill ran down your spine. Your breath hitched.

Aaron’s handwriting.

Your fingers tingled as you walked toward the desk, your heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t like him to leave something like this. You had shared countless cases, countless conversations, but nothing like this.

The rest of the bullpen continued its usual rhythm, oblivious to the small moment that had just stopped your world in its tracks.

You hesitated, unsure of what to do next. What could it be? you wondered. Your hand hovered over the envelope for a moment, your mind racing with questions. But curiosity, and something else you couldn’t quite name, urged you to open it.

You gently lifted the flap, your pulse quickening, and pulled out a single sheet of paper, the edges slightly creased as if it had been held and then carefully set down. Your gaze dropped to the words on the page, the ones written in Aaron's steady hand.

💌:💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💭💌:

My Dearest [Y/N],

A quiet gasp escaped your lips, your breath hitching as you read the first line. The world seemed to blur around you, the noise of the bullpen fading as you absorbed the words, the sincerity behind them.

You swallowed hard, the paper trembling slightly in your hands as you read on. It was so unlike Aaron—so raw, so vulnerable. He wasn’t the kind of man who put his emotions out there easily, and yet here they were, laid bare for you in ink.

Each word felt like it was carving a path through your chest, and with every sentence, you felt something stir deep inside you, something you hadn’t fully acknowledged before—the pull, the attraction, the way he’d become more than just your colleague over time.

By the time you reached the end, your hands were shaking, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I don’t expect anything in return, but I needed to tell you this. I needed you to know how much you mean to me, even if it’s difficult for me to put it into words.”

You closed your eyes, your fingers lightly brushing over the paper as if it could somehow bring you closer to him. A mix of disbelief and warmth filled you. This wasn’t just a letter. It was an admission of something deep, something that Aaron rarely allowed himself to feel, let alone express.

How long has he felt this way? you thought, your mind swirling. And more importantly, What do I do now?

You stood there for a long moment, the sound of distant voices and the hum of the office far away, as you took in the weight of his words.

In that instant, everything seemed to stop. The usual rhythm of your busy world was replaced by a quiet stillness, a stillness that only Aaron’s letter seemed to create.

[rypnami]

Theiara Drabble

self- indulgent theiara drabble about a time they see a dragon, feat. some stuff i made up on the fly (hehe get it) about the hebridean black. not beta read or edited so keep that in mind heeh. literally no plot i just wanted to write them.

word count: 1081 no warnings, just fluff and the classic theiara bickering lol. established semi-new relationship <3 idk if any of this makes sense byeee

tagging @amethystandemma since chatting w/ you about the dragon pics inspired me lol

The Scottish highlands are, in Chiara's opinion, the most beautiful place in the world. Granted, she hasn't been to many places in the world, and perhaps being a Scot herself, she's biased, but simply nothing can compare to the rolling green of the mountains or the glistening water on the scattered lochs. Now that winter is, for the most part, over, and spring is finally showing its face, it’s the perfect time to take a long walk and enjoy seeing the sun for the first time in ages.

The only thing that could make the day better would be if she had someone to share it with- as luck would have it, she does. After quite a lot of convincing, she has brought Theseus Scamander in tow for this mini-adventure. They’ve been coworkers for a few years now, but recently it’s developed into something more. They haven’t technically labelled it yet, but it is certainly more than just friends, or coworkers that drive each other mental at any given opportunity. 

Where she has opted for more casual clothes for once- a simple white blouse and knee-length grey skirt, he is in his full blue overcoat, the grey blazer she’s rarely seen him out of, and his incredibly fancy shoes; perhaps not ideal for a trek in the highlands. It’s hardly different from what he would typically wear to work, as if they are about to be called on a very important case, and not out trying to enjoy themselves on one of their few days off. He does look good, however, so she can’t complain too much. 

They’ve stopped in an open meadow-like area, surrounded by hills and dotted with purple flowers. She flops down in the grass, just off the well-worn dirt path, and breathes in the freshness of the air. Her pale blonde hair spreads out amongst the green.

Theseus leans over her, eyebrows raised. “You’re going to get insects in your hair doing that, you know.”

“Spoilsport.” 

“I’m only sayingggg, I don’t imagine you, of all people, want crawly things all over you.”

Hm, true. Chiara hates just about anything with more than 4 legs. Honestly, who needs that many? What are they even used for? “You’ll pick them out for me.”

He sits down beside her, smiling slightly. “Of course I will. But… is this really what we came all the way out here to do? Have you lay on the floor?”

“It’s called appreciating nature. Try it sometime.” She sticks her tongue out at him. “And ‘all the way out here’ is an exaggeration. You can still see the hamlet.” Chiara points left, back down the dirt path, where just peeking over the rise of the hillside, the thatched roofs of Bainburgh are visible.

 

“Yes, but we could appreciate nature from there.” 

“If you’re going to whinge the whole time, you can just go on back and I can enjoy myself.”

“Hey, now, I didn’t say I want to go back.” Almost absentmindedly, he reaches over and starts playing with her hair. “Just pointing out that someone truly in awe of the natural world could do it anywhere.”

“Have a sense of adventure, Scamander,” Chiara huffs, sitting up and crossing her arms. “There’s more to see out here than at a mouldy old hamlet!” She gestures as a couple shaggy, long-horned cattle that meander by. "See?!"

“Ah, yes, we can see all the cows. I love cows. Very interesting.” A grin spreads across his face, and accompanied with the twinkle in his eyes, it would be obvious to anyone that he’s only trying to rile her. Unfortunately, Chiara has never been one for attentiveness to such things- or emotional regulation, honestly. 

“Cows are brilliant!” 

“Have you seen their expressions? It looks as though they operate on about 2 brain cells.”

Chiara narrows her eyes. “Two more than you have.”

Theseus chuckles. “Alright, alright. You know I’m teasing. I love spending time with you, wherever. Even amongst the livestock.” He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in so she’s sitting in his lap. He rests his chin on her shoulder as Chiara leans back against his chest. “I’ll admit, it is nice to be just us.”

“Mm.” Chiara sighs. Yes, he might drive her up the wall sometimes, but she truly can’t imagine her life without him. “There’s not just farm animals around, anyhow. Could see… I dunno. Hippogriffs, maybe some Puffskeins, or- a dragon?!”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up about a dragon-”

“No, look! A dragon!” Chiara gapes.

Overhead, a handful of kilometers away, is, in fact, a dragon. It is positively massive- so big, in fact, that she can still make out what it looks like rather clearly. It has a massive wingspan with orange membranes spreading between long, finger-like segments. It seems to have dark brown or grey scales, but a lighter underbelly. As it flies even closer, close enough that they can almost feel the wind from its wings, she can see what looks like a large, vibrant purple eye. 

Although there is something incredibly unnerving about such a powerful, dangerous predator so close to them… it’s also oddly mesmerising.

“It’s beautiful,” Chiara murmurs.

“It is.”

“What species do you think it is?”

Without missing a beat, Theseus answers. “Hebridean Black. Looks like a female, too. See, she’s got two sets of horns, one curling forward. Males have three, and they all curve back behind the ears.” He squints at the dragon as she flies away. “Her tail is also pointed- a male would have more of a club shape, for defence.”

Chiara stares at him, her jaw hanging open. “How in the hell do you know that? Just off the top of your head?”

“Oh. Er, I dunno.” He runs his fingers through his hair, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I- suppose it’s my brother’s fault. He’s quite passionate about magical creatures. My whole family is, really, but him especially. When we were younger, he used to always talk my ear off about beasts and creature identification…only ever listened to humour him, but I reckon I was paying more attention than I thought.” 

“That’s… unexpectedly sweet.”

“I beg your pardon? I am plenty sweet. All the time!” 

“Of course you are.” 

He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Yes, well. Perhaps we ought to go back inside, on the off chance she comes back around and spots us… I don’t fancy being dragon food today.”

“...Fine.”