#but I stand by someone messed something up on the height chart because he's too tall visually to be as short as they claim he is

[coockie8]

Alright, so I am gonna draw Roy and Ray together, but I might have to condense Ray's height because Roy looks like a fucking toddler next to Ray at his full height XD

[mikasaluna]

生きていたんだよな

⚠ WARNINGS：potentionally triggering content ! graphic suicide descriptions ! self harm ! dark content !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED IMMEDIATELY.

「 Keep in mind your triggers and do not engage if it will provoke negative emotions. You are responsible for your own actions. 」

♥️

notes：gender neutral pronouns, angst, fluff (kind of?), 1,640 words

If you need help I recommend posting on r/suicidewatch or searching for your area’s local suicide helpline using ctrl+f on the following wikipedia page.

♥️

A/N：Also, I didn’t realise until now as I’m writing the tags, that most people spell Kuroo’s first name as “Tetsuro” without the “u”. I wrote it differently because that’s just the direct Japanese spelling and I didn’t know. Sorry about that.

Haikyuu!! / ハイキュー!!

Kuroo Tetsurou 黒尾鉄朗 

Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. Kaji, hatsu, mame. You repeated the radicles to yourself as you wrote out the character over and over, feeling the muscle memory in your wrist kicking into gear. Your head was throbbing, hundreds of kanji readings swimming around in your mind. Now more than ever, the pressure of growing up had began to weigh down on you like a pile of bricks. Trying to make sense of all the pre-set rules in your life was difficult enough as it was, but just trying was never good enough. Nothing ever was. For every happy person in the world, there had to be an opposite, there had to be a person like you. It was pathetic. You were so damn pathetic. 

Your relationship with your mother, who’d left Japan to raise you all on her own, was hanging by threads. Could you really blame her though? Your grades had been falling steadily over the semester, and the scholarship which you’d worked so hard for was slipping through your fingers. You’d given up on yourself, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d given up on you too. The things that used to be so easy, laughing together at your little wooden dining table, became so far away, every night like a video tape stuck on repeat.

一体何を思ってるんだろう！バカの？

“What the hell are you thinking! Are you stupid?”

Why should you care? Maybe things would be easier if you just let your life fall to pieces. Maybe once you had nothing left to hold on to, you could finally break free. Maybe all this time, all you ever were was stupid. 

わかんない。

“I don’t know.”

You were lying through your teeth. Of course you knew. You were stupid for ever believing in all the things that made your life worth living, because they didn’t mean a thing at all. Locking yourself in your room, like you always did, isolating yourself. Too craven to face your problems, too tired to care. I can’t do this anymore. You’d been wandering through life aimlessly for so long. Searching for something, anything; waiting for that reason to come into your life, like every other person was insistent it would. Forcing yourself through each and every day, waiting and waiting; but it was time you realised, that reason never really existed at all. It was just another lie people told themselves, to try and make sense of their own existence. You were sure they knew as well as you did now, somewhere deep in their hearts, that their lives, your life, was just another figure on the chart. Another meaningless statistic. Your thoughts were racing, clogging up your brain and threatening to spew out of your mouth. You pulled your diary out from under your pillow;

’Thursday, 24th of December’

「Today’s a special day, isn’t it? I don’t know if I’ll be around for Christmas this year, that’s okay, it was never really my thing anyway. 

お母さん、ごめんなさい。いま、離れなくちゃダメだ。　　」

“Okaa-san, I’m sorry. I have to leave you now.”

With that, you couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been thinking about this day longer than you could bear, drafting your final words over and over in your head. But when it came down to it, was there really a right thing to say?

Grabbing your grey hoodie, you plugged some headphones into your i-pod. You’d figured that leaving your phone behind was a better idea, it meant that no one could call or track you. You’d do it right, and this time you’d make sure not to wake up ever again. Reaching the pavement outside, you began moving along you streets. You walked slowly, taking the time to look along the streets one last time. It was almost nostalgic, dream-like in a sense. The urban road you grew up  which you had never payed much mind, was calming. For once in a long time, you felt truly at peace.

There was a parking building nearby, one which your Okaa-san often parked in. It was tall and old, reaching 7 storeys into the sky, surrounded below by solid, grey asphalt. This was it. In the elevator ride to the top floor your heart was beating hard in your chest, thoughts so loud you thought they’d grow out of your mind and become real. You couldn’t allow yourself to look back now.

Standing by the ledge of the building, you looked out over the city, and wondered if anybody could see you up there. What would they think of you, somebody who’d throw their life away so easily? Hitting play on your i-pod, 生きていたんだよな (ikiteitandayona) by あいみょん (aimyon) began to play. The lyrics were tragic and bittersweet, but the rhythm made your adrenaline pump. You teetered even closer to the building’s edge, legs wobbling. The height made you feel dizzy as you peered down off the drop, and all the way down to the pavement below. But not for a second did you feel scared.

冷たいアスファルトに流れるあの血

♩ ‘On the cold asphalt, their blood flows.’

赤さが綺麗で綺麗で

♩ ‘That red is beautiful, beautiful.’

How long would you fall? You thought, sitting down and swinging your legs over the side of the building. You almost wanted to laugh. It reminded you of all those times you had snuck onto the school roof with your classmate in high school, what was his name again? Kuroo? Right, Kuroo Tetsurou. On the last week of school while you were skipping last period maths together, you had convinced him to smoke a joint with you right there on the roof. Those were the final memories you had ever made together, since you’d each left for different universities. Why were you thinking of him now, of all times?

最後のサヨナラは他の誰でもなく

♩ ‘Their last goodbye,'

Standing up, you leaned back and looking out over the view, one last time.

自分に叫んだんだろう

♩ ‘screamed to nobody but themself.’

You took a breath in, deep enough to feel your lungs burn. Tears stung at your eyes, but you bit them back and closed your eyes. Part of you wished you could fix this all, but you didn’t know how. You didn’t have the energy to try and make things better.

��になって 雲をつかんで

♩ ‘becoming a bird and grabbing the clouds’

Shuffling your toes over the edge, you had made the decision in your head.

風になって

♩ ‘becoming the wind...’

Your muscles relaxed, and you allowed yourself to fall off of the edge.

“WAIT-!” You heard a scream for a split second, a hand grabbing hopelessly at the back of your hoodie as you began to descend. It was too late now. The wind in your ears blocked out the voice yelling from above, muffling the sound. It was strangely tranquil here, floating down off the the 7th floor, the clearest your head had felt in months. Nevertheless, you couldn’t help but wonder.

Was this the right choice?

Finally, the concrete embraced you as your body slammed into the ground.

[This artwork does not belong to me. I saved it to my laptop a long time ago and now I can’t find the source, if you know the artist please send me a message so I can credit properly.]

________________________________________________________________

Your eyes fluttered open and bright white light flooded your vision.

Where the hell am I?

Everything hurt. Your head was pounding and your mind was fuzzy. Cotton sheets lay underneath your aching body and a mess of black hair lay beside you. Someone was sitting on a chair next to the bed, his cheek resting on your arm, shoulders rising and falling slowly in his sleep.

“Tetsurou?” Your voice came out broken and hoarse. 

He lifted his head slowly, eyes red and swollen, had he been crying? 

“W-where am I?”

“We’re in the hospital,” he said shakily “the firefighters caught you when you fell.”

The memories came flooding back. That’s right, you jumped. So, that wasn’t the ground you felt back then? Your head was filled with questions, but you weren’t sure where to start. He probably thought you were pathetic too, but part of you was just so happy. Happy you were alive to see him again. Kuroo had to be the only friend who ever really understood you and your stupid humor, having him there reminded you of that. Maybe it had impacted you more than you realised, not having a single person at uni who really got you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He uttered quietly from beside you.

“Tell you what, Tetsurou?” You looked over, sitting up steadily. His eyes were filled with pain.

“I was so scared, why didn’t you tell me what was going on!” Kuroo covered his face with his hand, but you could still see the tears falling onto his lap as he spoke. “I-I love you, you know that right? I still love you, and I would do anything... so why the hell didn’t you come talk to me!” His confession was broken and hurt, but it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t even understand it yourself, why you felt like this.

“What was I supposed to say? I’m pathetic, I don’t have any other reason.” It was true. Compared to most people, your life was easy. You had a family, a home, friends, education. What reason did you really have? To try to end your life, to be unhappy at all.

“I don’t care about that, just please... don’t leave me again.” It was the first time you’d ever heard Kuroo being so serious, and it almost scared you. Tears were stinging in your eyes at his words. You felt his big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a safe, warm hug as your tears stained his shirt. Were you really so oblivious that you never realised how he felt about you?

“O-okay... and, Tetsurou?” 

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

[shyrose57]

Brothers anon back again. I had a sort of writers block for the last like 2 days which made it really hard to do some questions, but I got em done finally. Sorry about the wait. This one is split between the numbered questions, and next ask is the other questions you asked!

I think I accidentally skipped a question in the last one. I honestly don't completely remember but in case I did skip it by mistake, the groups first travel out of the city's limits and even further beyond in a carriage. When they reach the end of how far the driver is willing to go they then get out and start walking. With Jackie screaming about how their finally going on a adventure. 

1: It thankfully doesn't get to to bad before the others notice. And he immediately told them about Dream, wanting to be very clear with what happened and what they where getting themselves into. But they accepted him anyway and helped him. 

2: Isaac is the leader cause Cletus is too much of a wildcard and too impulsive to lead safely, Charles is too shy to lead, and while Benjamin is perfect for leading he doesnt really like leading and is more of a follower than a leader. But Isaac can joke around and gets along with everyone but also be able to take things seriously and know when something needs to be handled.

5: They do not, they last for a few minutes and unless its a healing or regeneration potion (in which it can take a few days for it to fully go away) they have no long lasting affects. They do know of eachothers past to an extent, they know enough to avoid triggers and enough to know what not to do when around eachother. They know through telling eachother, and they feel awful Grievous and Jackie had to deal with that, but leave it in the past and focus on making their current life better. 

6: Yes and no, while Jackie did mean to throw it at Ran, he ment for it to just hit nearby him, not directly hit him. It was ment to be more of a scare/intimidation tactic than anything else honestly. Grievous's luck is for basically everything, he has won the lottery twice before actually but only those 2 times, he's correctly guessed how many items are in a container more than a few times as well. 

7: I use the height charts and they help mostly for comparison, problem is I have trouble applying it to real world stuff and because of that I still have trouble knowing if something or someone is to tall or short. Jackie can get very mean, like he can make fun of someone who just lost a loved one or experienced a traumatic event at the worst. But he usually doesn't get nearly that mean, most he does normally is making fun of how someone looks or how they do certain things. The others comfort him the best they can when he gets sad, and when he gets mean they either encourage it (Grievous), or discourage it and stop him (Watson. Ran is between either encouraging or discouraging it).

8: He was! He spent most of his life adventuring actually! He misses it somedays now since he lives in Subbin, but he believes giving up his adventuring life for a family and friends who needed him is a more than far trade and would happily pick his family over adventuring again. For around 4 years after Ran left Mizu (including the day he left), Ran traveled everywhere, and learned how to survive himself and taught himself different things, like sewing. Ran has made new socks, fixed clothes, and made blankets for everyone at least once. Watson also designs bows and arrows for show, for top functionality, and for just simple (training) gifts to the others. Ran (and Watson) has visited the nether, though Ran tended to stay in it longer than Watson cause he could withstand the temperatures better. And while digging a new tunnel across the nether he ran into ancient debris, which he then messed with until he figured out to mix it with gold and coat his sword in it. He tried to find more ancient debris but sadly hasn't found any, leaving his sword permanently damaged and at risk of breaking. Jackie isn't good at all at painting, its more of a hobby he's trying out. They try to camp out there at least once a week, where Grievous will sometimes build a pillowfort and either force everyone inside or play a game of capture the fort with them. Sometimes Ran will also read during the pillowfort nights, but not to often. Jackie wants to vist a Snow, Savanna, Jungle,  Tagia, and if possible, a Ice Spike biome. He also wants to vist the nether but he'll have to fight Ran on that. Ran and Jackie's secondary titles are in Javanese!

9: Ran just kinda went "Hey Jackie, stand still for a second." "Ok?" And then he just picked him up and threw up. 

10: When he's first given dinner after already eaten lunch, he just kinda stares at the food. Then asks if they meant to give him food, and when the others say yes, he asks why because he thought people only ate once every few days. His answer shocked the others and they ask him to explain, and he explains futher that he was only allowed to eat and drink once every 3 days. Their horrified by this answer but explain to him how theres 3 meals a day and he can drink whenever, he doesn't believe them at first but eventually accepts it. 

11: When the fishermen first come to Ranbob about their worry, he expresses the same worry as them. But says that it's unlikely Ran will hurt the fishermen specifically, because Rans haunting are already friends with them, and Ran wouldnt risk breaking the friendship unless he deemed it necessary for their safety. 

12: Ranbob is sad that Ran goes to such lengths to avoid him and keep people away from him, but he has resigned himself to it. As he knew that if Ran was alive it was greatly unlikely that he would trust him and knew he would be avoided. Which is actually particularly why he believes Ran will never trust him again and why he views Ran as a kind of lost family member. One he'll never get back no matter what he does.

13: Their first stop is a nearby flower biome, and after that Watson has planned to lead them to a waterfall he found with a shattered Savanna somewhat close to it. They plan to travel for a minimum of 6 months, they can actually travel for as long as they want to, but Prokius made them agree that they must be back before the next General Pit Battles (which happens once every 5 years). 

14: He would 100% run himself into the ground until he's barely alive while searching for them. Benjamin compares Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream, to an abused person wanting to go back to their abusive lover. They believe they've changed and that they truly do love them and want the best for them, but in reality that's not it at all and others have to help them see thats not true and help them save themselves. So it doesn't surprise Benjamin or Isaac that much (it surprises Charles and Cletus though), and after its explained to them, their all more than willing to help Ranbob get over Dream and help him be himself again.

15: Oh definitely. Once they hear the Green-Eyed Enderman is back from hiding they all set out again, and after the group gets attacked and once word spreads that its in a group and there's another enderman with them, they all get targeted. With the Gladiators and Fishermen being targeted as bait or hostages to try to trick the enderman into following a trap. Ran wasnt affected like his brother was. Im talking about trauma and maybe even a bit of PTSD that came from Mizu, caused by Dream. Though both of the brothers have gained different amounts of trauma and PTSD from Dream. I may give the raven to either Watson or Ran, I think its fits both of them really well. I want to have them come across ruins of other Tales but im not sure which ones. Maybe they could find the remains of the Wild West Tale and the Haunted Mansion?

Glad to see you, Brothers Anon, and excited to read!

1: The perfect start to an Adventure. And a funny mental image. Imagining these two groups cramped into carriages is pretty amusing. How ready was everyone to get out by the time they could?

2: The fishermen are really great, and Ranbob is very lucky. I love them.

3: Isaac sounds like he’s a pretty good fit for it then. But nobody’s perfect! What are some flaws of his, leadership-wise?

5: Interesting. What makes Regeneration and Healing last longer? I suppose it’s not relative to the AU, but I am a bit curious. What’s the world’s potions mechanisms, if you don’t mind me asking? And that’s good! They may not know everything, but they know what to avoid, and that’s important. Everyone’s moved forward and are making the best of life, and honestly, that’s pretty cool of them.

6: Welp, Jackie, it seems intimidation tactic failed. However, you have managed to anger Ran, so..there’s that. He won the lottery? Dang. Well, if they ever need money, they can just send him to the nearest casino, I suppose.

7: Aight, so I may have a solution for you there. Whatever height you’re going for, find something in real life that’s just about the same height. Like a tree, or something. Or not, we can always just leave it at short enough to be tossed and tall enough to be the tosser. Jackie sounds like he knows where to hit to make it hurt, honestly. It’s good that they comfort him, though I am curious why they all react as they do to him being mean. Why does Grievous encourage it? And is it more of a depends on the day thing for Ran, or a depends on what was said to Jackie, and what Jackie’s saying thing?

8: Nice! What kind of places did he go? Does he have any particularly interesting knickknacks from that time period? And Ran personally sounds like he knows what he’s doing. Watson’s weapons sound really cool, where did he learn to make them? Is visiting the Nether not a common occurrence these days? Or is it simply that the others never got around to it before? Well, hobbies are always fun to try. Does Jackie keep at it and get better or get bored and try something else? How does Capture the Fort go with these guys, considering they’re gladiators? Why does Jackie want to visit those particular biomes? Is there a reason, or do they just sound cool to him? And why would Ran not want them going to the Nether? Because of the danger?

9: FDXGHJ- He just- tossed him?? No warning?? Oh my gods, I’m dying. How did Jackie react to that? Heck, how did Porkius react to that? I doubt anyone was expecting that display.

10: Oh, no. Now I really want to punch Dream in the face. What the heck, Dream?! He legit asks if they meant to give him food...If one of the fishermen or gladiators doesn’t eventually find a way to punch Dream, I will be forced to travel realities and do it myself. 

11: Kind of sad that Ranbob was equally concerned about it. But hey! He won’t have to be, one day!

12: Poor Ranbob. I hope he’s proven wrong, eventually. Do the fishermen know that he thinks this? If so, how do they feel about it? Or does he kind of just keep those thoughts to himself?

13: Flower biomes are really pretty. What did everyone think about it? Did they bring any flowers with them? So this roadtrip could possibly go on for a few years. Did they leave just after a General Pit Battle, or do they have like, less than five years? Speaking of General, is Jackie still the General in this AU? Does he have extra duties because of it? Or is that not something that happened in this AU?

14: Yikes. Reactions to this? Why does Ranbob believe Dream’s changed, as you put it? Is Dream still able to talk to him, or is it because he just misses being there? So Benjamin and Isaac aren’t all that surprised about it. Do they take the reins in helping out? And how do they all do so? It’s good that they’re helping him though.

15: Well, this sounds like it can’t end well. They try to use the hauntings as bait? Is anyone actually captured? Rescue missions? And alright, that makes a bit more sense. I can see how they’d both be effected differently, and honestly, they’d probably both have very different perspectives of the event, all things considered. Ravens for the win! And it’d be really cool for them to come across the ruins of old Tales buildings. Can you imagine the kind of things they’d find? Diaries, faded photographs, moth-eaten clothes, blood stained floors...Like a walk in the past, but they’ll never know what came to be for the people of that time.

[daily-dose-of-imagines]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ Matchup ♥

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Naruto, One Piece, and Free Match-Up Request

May I request another match-up but for Free, One Piece, and Naruto this time? :) Here’s all my info once more!

Name: Corethra (or Corey for short)

Age: 25

Gender: Female

Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual

Occupation: Hand Packer at an ice cream factory. I work 12 hours (5:30pm to 6am) on a rotating schedule.

Birthplace: Memphis, TN, USA. I was raised in the neighborhood called Frayser which is the most impoverished area in Memphis and has a high crime rate as expected.

Zodiac Sign: Pisces (born March 2) My full birth chart can be found here

Enneagram: 5w6

Chinese Zodiac: Year Of The Pig

MBTI Type: INFJ

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Love Language: Acts Of Service

Race/Ethnicity: African-American

Height: 4'11 (Call me short and I’ll kick your butt!)

Body Type/Shape: Average but well developed figure at best. I weigh about 158 lbs and am pretty insecure about my body. I also have really bad scars on my left arm from being bitten by a dog.

Hair Color/Style: Black and naturally curly but I keep it flat-ironed so it’s straight. It’s long and goes down to just below my shoulder blades. There are times when I will have braids put in of various lengths.

Glasses or No?: Yes I wear glasses

Eye Color: Brown

Dress Style: I usually dress up in a casual way, just throwing on whatever looks good at the time but I will sometimes put in the effort when the time calls for it or when I’m in a good mood. I have an affinity for the punk, emo, and goth styles and I rarely wear feminine clothes but I will wear something risky every once in a while.

Hobbies/Interests: Video games, reading, writing, anime, internet surfing, listening to music, politics (sometimes), watching movies/TV shows, basically being an overall nerd. I’m usually either on my laptop or one of my many video game consoles if I’m not on my phone or reading one of my books.

Dislikes: Ignorance, stupidity, restriction, manipulation/gas-lighting, bullying, humanity, not being understood, corruption/injustice, close-mindedness

Personality: At first glance, I seem quiet and keep to myself, only speaking when I need to or when I’m spoken to. I’m an anti-social introvert to the fullest and don’t care much for small talk or going out. I prefer to have deeper conversations. When I get comfortable enough in whatever environment I’m in, I start to open up bit by bit. I’m a tomboy and pretty rough-minded as well as stubborn. I’m very sassy, have a smart, sarcastic, and witty mouth if not humorous and outrageous at times, can be borderline rude and mean, and I’m more sensitive than I care to be. I can literally cry at someone’s suffering especially if it’s someone I’m close to or even a total stranger. I’m very empathetic and my heart is bigger than what most people would expect. Most people describe me as quiet, intelligent, creative, dorky, a smartass, and really sweet. I love a good laugh and have an open sense of humor to boot.

Many of my friends say that I’m very sweet and kind which I usually am if I’m in a good mood as well as affectionate as hell. Hugs and pet names galore with me! However only my friends and family see that side of me. My language is often unfiltered, harsh, foul, and blunt which shocks people because they think I’m a pure angel. I say what I want when I want and no one tells me otherwise. If they do, they can expect a mouthful from me. I’m an escapist and very imaginative, can be a bit scatterbrained at times, and I’m methodical and detailed to the point of perfectionism. I’m usually a walking contradiction in terms of personality in so many ways to the point where the real me is almost impossible to decipher. To make matters more complicated, I’m not very good at expressing myself verbally and prefer to let my actions do the talking. I also express myself better through written form.

I have many pet peeves and I get annoyed easily in general. I’m also slowly embracing misanthropy and nihilism but I can be pretty idealistic so it balances out. I’m practically zero tolerance when it comes to bullshit. I hate confrontation and conflict but I’m starting to work on it so I can be less passive-aggressive and more assertive. I also wish to stand up for myself more often than I should so people won’t think that I’m weak and an easy target. I’m pretty cynical which is to be expected and usually expect the worst from people. When someone angers me, I will either just withdraw altogether and completely cut them off (slam the door basically) or get in their face and go off before doing the former. I’m the “hold my anger in and release it all at once” type but I hope to change that one day and stop letting things fester before they get out of hand. I can be quite petty and even cold as well and if someone wrongs me, they will have to make the first move to mend fences. I refuse to apologize if I’m not in the wrong and I will not accept gaslighting/guilt tripping. I also refuse to change for others and will admit to having quite a lot of pride but that’s mostly due to me not wanting to be hurt and manipulated, mistreated, or used.

I have issues with trust and a wild imagination to boot. I usually trust my instincts and can see right through bullshit. I don’t like taking risks and I have to know all the details when I do something so I don’t mess up and look like an idiot. I am indeed a perfectionist and introverted to a fault which often prevents me from trying new things and going outside my comfort zone. I haven’t been in a relationship yet and am still a virgin due to my issues with trust and not wanting to be hurt or humiliated as well as being quite picky/perfectionistic with the people I allow in my life. I have high standards for both people and myself although I’m pretty laid-back and my dislike of conflict allows me to also take a lot of shit from people too before I eventually say “fuck it” and slam the door or go off on them. I don’t think very highly of myself and can sometimes fall into a period of self-hatred and self-pity.

Many people praise me for my intelligence which is fitting since I’m an intellectual. My ideals and beliefs are rather odd to say the least (I’m a classical liberal/independent and despise most ideologies/ideas. This includes religion, feminism, social justice, traditionalism, statism, big government, nationalism, socialism/communism, etc.) and I feel misunderstood because of it (mostly because of the black community ostracizing me). I am indeed a rebel, open-minded, and a free thinker. No one tells me how to think or feel or else they face my wrath. I highly value power over myself and I think it’s the most important thing that a person needs in order to survive. I am definitely an outcast at heart and I often distance myself from others and don’t like talking about my feelings or beliefs because I think most people lack the ability/capacity to understand me. Before I give my opinion on something, I like to do as much research as possible as well as look at things from all perspectives before coming to my own conclusion. I don’t mind discussing things but I prefer logic over emotion when doing so which makes it damn near impossible these days for me to have an real conversation without insults and threats being thrown (usually towards me). Chances are I’m gonna find something wrong with damn near anything someone believes in or says and I’m not afraid to call it out when I see it. Once I do open up and express how I feel, the gates of passion will open up and never close. I also have high morals and values and stick to my guns no matter what which can make me pretty stubborn at times.

I’m currently battling depression and often experience many symptoms of it including suicidal thoughts and depression spells. I also suffer from iron-deficiency anemia as well as irregular, prolonged periods. These things are pretty annoying for me to deal with whenever they flare up. 

Overall, I’m pretty crazy and a handful to deal with. Good luck matching me up with someone :P

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Hello @sacredwarrior88 and thank you so much for requesting with us! I am so sorry that this came out so late, but I do hope you enjoy this!

>Admin 𝕋

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽…

Ace! I feel that you and ace would be such a great couple! He is open minded and kind to others whereas you are the same way! You are passionate like he is, caring like he is, loyal to the bone like he is! He would see you and see your personality and just instantly fall in love you and your personality! Like, I can’t even imagine how much he will want you on his crew, so they he can keep on you and protect you at all times-- though he will soon figure out that you don’t need help, you can take care yourself--which he will find extremely attractive, no doubt about that! 

He will love that fact that you are independent, because he really values individualism and independency, he sees it as a great traits to have. But he will also love the fact that you are sensitive, and can sometimes get into your own  head. He understands that, knows it all too well, so he will try with all his might to try and make sure that you are happy and always smiling! But he will love how fierce you can be to other people, never bowing down to their expectations! 

All in all, I feel like Ace would be a great man for you in the one piece universe! He would be attentive to you, would love your attitude and personality, and would absolutely adore how loyal and strong you are! make sure to love him thoroughly!

Ah, Sai! He is much like Ace, just a little less emotional, which is fine! I feel like you and Sai would make a couple for a couple reasons! He would love how mature you are, and how logical you can be, and-- like ace-- he loves the fact that you are extremely loyal to your friends! That is a true factor in the way he will see you, and it is for the better! He will se how strong you are, emotionally and will be envious and at the same time fascinated! I Feel like Sai will look at you with wide eyes, his breath caught in his throat, his heart beating wildly in his ribcage because he will love you that much! All the things you are interested he will want to hear with enthusiasm, everything you love he will want to learn and hear from you, to get to know you better!

Another thing is that if you were to go to him with your insecurities and how you are battling depression, he will try to understand, and once he does he will try to everything and anything to make sure you feel better! You need a massage? He’s on it! You need cuddles? oh yeah he will give you some! You need chocolate or sweets or anything of the like? He’ll run to the store, and be back 5 minutes tops! 

All in all, I feel like the cool, mature Sai, with a heart of pure gold will be such a good match for you! He will make sure that you uncomfortable with him, he will never want to make you unhappy, and he will definitely do anything i his power to make sure that you will keep on loving him as much as you can!

Rei! Now, with Rei, I wanted to go a more cute route. I feel that Rei would be equal parts and scared and in love with you! He sees how strong you are against people that oppose, he sees how strong you are for your friends, and how you have such a different personality to everybody else around him, and he will immediately fall in with you. Like instantly! To him, you’d be like a beautiful butterfly blooming right in front of him, and he will want to have you all tot himself! Of course, he won’t force you, but he will definitely watch you at a distance longingly!

He is very much an introvert and your calm but strong aura would definitely help with his anxiety! I just see him melting next you, into your lap or shoulder whenever you are around him because he is so comfortable around you. He doesn’t do this with just anybody so it would be a real honor! And when it it comes to your insecurities, he would want to make sure that you know he loves you the way are, and if you were to want to change something about yourself, then he will support you all the way, as long as you are happy! He will just love that you are such a freethinker and so openminded about things, so unlike him!

All in all, I feel like Rei would love you and (somewhat) idolize because you have all these traits that he would love to have. This perfectionist will understand how it feels to be such a perfectionist and will want to help you with that too! He will love to the moon and back(stroke)!

[vindicatedvirgil]

science partners / intrulogical

...yeah idk what it is about this ship but i’m in love. also, remus is still stuck to me, please someone help? he’s really growing on me.

it’s a high school human AU! please enjoy

includes: high school Logan, high school Remus, science experiments, friends to lovers, it’s kind of super fluffy at the end

(masterlist)

“Remus Creative–”

“I’m a present!” Remus cackled, a bow on his head.

“Yes, very nice. Roman Creative?”

“Preseeeent~!” Roman sang out.

“Logan Crofters–”

“Here.” His head was down, and he was jotting in his worn-down notebook. He tuned out the rest of roll call, and was only faintly listening to the assignment the teacher was talking about.

“Ahem. Mr. Crofters?” The teacher was standing right in front of Logan. “Did you hear what I said about your project partner?”

“Uh…” Logan glanced around. “No, sorry.” The teacher just rolled their eyes and pointed to the student sitting next to Logan, who glanced to his left. It was Remus Creative, probably the most inappropriate and wacky student in Logan’s grade. “Um, can’t I… do this project on my own?” Remus made a mocking offended noise.

“Ugh, like I want to work with Mr. ‘I’m better than you because I’m a super smarty pants’ but teach here has already said that we’re working together, so put on your big boy pants and look at the assignment sheet with me,” He muttered, resting his chin on his hand, his tongue sticking out a little bit. The teacher wandered off, and Logan closed his notebook, glancing at the assignment sheet that was set down between the two boys.

“...we have to come up with our own physics experiment?” Logan asked. Remus fluttered his eyelashes, staring at Logan. 

“I have a few ideas for a physics assignment, cutie pie~”

“No. Nothing dirty, you snake.” Logan groaned, running a hand through his hair. Remus made that mock offended noise again.

“Excuse you, I am not a snake! Janus is the snake. I’m more of a stinky rat man, you know?” Remus laughed, then took out a pen and began writing potential ideas for experiments on the paper. Logan watched him scrawl a list of potential experiments, some typical, but a few of them were pretty out there. He was appalled at the fact that the pen wrote in sparkly silver ink, but ignored this.

“Isn’t something with solar panels… overdone a bit?” Logan asked, adjusting his glasses frames, then pointed to one item on the list. “Why does this just say bouncy balls?”

“It’s an experiment on height and linearity of bouncing balls,” Remus answered simply. “But if you think it’s too silly, whatever.”

“No, that’s actually… intriguing.” Logan responded. “We have to record our experiment for the presentations and log our results. We should find a space to film.”

“Not my house,” Remus muttered. “Unless you want to be around Roman.” Logan glanced over his shoulder at Remus’ twin, who was boasting about something. Logan shook his head.

“My apartment is kind of a mess, but my mom is always working, so it should be fine.” Remus looked deep in thought, but he just nodded. “We should get a variety of sizes of balls, so we have more data to go off of. I have carpet, tile, and hardwood, so we can test on surfaces as well.” Remus cackled.

“My balls are bouncy, I promise… and if you want, I have some hard wood for ya,” He grinned toothily, and Logan just rolled his eyes, ignoring the jokes. Well, what he hoped were jokes.

“There’s a dollar store by my apartment. We can do this after school today, and get it out of the way,” He explained. “We can meet out front once the day is done.”

-

Logan sighed, crossing his arms. Thirty minutes had already passed since the final bell rang, and Remus was nowhere to be found. This was why he hated working with others on projects; they couldn’t be depended on, not for anything. He decided to wait another fifteen minutes for his classmate, and if he didn’t show, he’d do the project on his own and tell the teacher that Remus bailed.

Logan was not so lucky. He was nearly tackled to the ground when someone hugged him from behind, arms wrapping around his shoulders. “Lolo!” Remus’ cackle was jarring and it made Logan’s head spin. He peeled the other’s arms off of him and glared harshly at the pouting teen.

“You’re late,” he said. Remus shrugged. “And don’t call me Lolo. My name is Logan, and you will refer to me as that and only that.” He began walking off campus, and Remus skipped alongside him, humming.

“So, how far away is your house?” Remus asked, wrapping an arm around Logan’s shoulders again. The logical teen didn’t bother to push him off, but glared at him through his glasses. 

“It’s a fifteen minute walk to the dollar store and then a five minute walk from there to the apartment complex,” Logan explained. Remus frowned when he realized the direction they were walking in, towards the more low-income part of town, but he decided to say nothing. They walked in silence, which surprised Logan, until they got to the store. Remus grabbed a cart and wheeled himself down the aisles, giggling. “Remus, please, we need to locate the bouncing balls.”

“Oh, alright. You’re no fun,” Remus pouted, and the two located the area with them. They got several packets of various sizes, and Remus also grabbed a large bouncing ball, which he held by hugging it. Logan rolled his eyes, but a small smile formed on his lips when he realized that Remus looked like a small child when he held the giant ball. They checked out at the front, Remus insisting on paying for everything, which only amounted to about $10. Logan made a fuss, but secretly he was grateful, because he only had a few bucks left until his next payday, and would need to go to the grocery story soon.

Remus toddled along the sidewalk, still hugging the ball, while Logan walked beside him, the plastic bag in his hand holding the rest of the bouncing balls. When they got to the apartment complex, Remus followed Logan up a short flight of stairs and stood awkwardly as the smart kid dug his keys out of his pocket. He opened the door, allowing Remus to go in first, and went inside after. Remus set the ball down gently, glancing around.

The kitchen was small. There was no TV, just a futon with some blankets and pillows on it, a dining table covered in worn books and papers, and two closed doors, one leading to a bathroom and the other to the only bedroom. There were cardboard boxes littered everywhere, with clothes spilling out of them. Logan looked ashamed, but also remained quiet as he set his backpack down on the futon. He fumbled through his backpack to grab his worn notebook.

“...Logan, I–”

“Don’t. Let’s just get this over with,” was the only response he gave. He set up a chart to log height, trajectory, number of rebound bounces, size of ball, and floor type. “Should we start small or big?”

“Uh, big first.”

The two sat cross-legged on the floor in various areas of the room for the next few hours as Remus dropped the balls from a constant height and Logan logged the results. They had set up a perilous tower of books to keep Remus’ phone camera focused on the actions. It was mostly quiet except for the bouncing and the scratching of Logan’s pencil on paper, and he just hoped that Remus wasn’t uncomfortable. He knew that the Creative twins came from a rich family, and he wondered if the jokester had ever been in such a small and worn-down place.

As they were wrapping up their experimenting, Logan’s mother came home, eyes deep set in shadows and hair greasy and mangled. Remus said nothing as Logan explained that they were science partners, working on an assignment, and that he’d be starting their dinner very soon. She just nodded and excused herself to take a shower and a nap.

“What does your mother do for work?” Remus asked, breaking the awkward silence. Logan ran a hand through his hair.

“She’s a nurse during the day, and at night she works at a 24-hour café,” Logan explained. “Ever since my dad died, we’ve lived here. I’ve had to pick up a job as a tutor, and recently I started working at the café, too, to take a little bit of the pressure off of my mom.”

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Remus said gently, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Actually, I’m sorry about… everything. If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have suggested someplace else, this is worse than Roman singing–”

“Shut up,” Logan’s voice was wavering. “This isn’t worse. This is my fucking life, Remus, and I’m not ashamed of it. Don’t pity me.” Remus looked down at his feet, ashamed.

“I’m sorry. I just…” he sighed. “You deserve better. Everyone in school always makes fun of you for being smart and wearing those dorky clothes. You deserve a better science partner than me, that’s for damn sure.” Logan started to say something but was interrupted by his mom coming out from her bedroom.

“Remus, are you staying for dinner? Logan always makes the most delicious dinners, even though we don’t have much,” She said, sitting on one of the chairs at the table.

“Um, thank you, but I should… probably head home,” Remus didn’t meet her eyes. She frowned and gave a look to Logan, who just nodded. She went back to her room while Logan stood up, heading towards the small kitchenette. Remus watched him carefully. “So… you cook?” Logan smiled, getting the ingredients for his simple soup out from the fridge and pantry.

“My dad was a chef. He taught me everything I know about food, so… yeah, I make all of the food,” He replied. Remus went to join him in the kitchen, and studied Logan’s movements as he cut the vegetables up and put them in the soup pot. “You should stay. So that after, we can accumulate our data and write the report.”

“I don’t want to take what little food you have, though…” Remus’ voice was serious, and it startled Logan, who just shook his head.

“Please don’t worry about that,” he took a deep breath. “I’d… like you to stay. You’re my science partner after all.” Remus sighed, and nodded.

“How can I help?”

-

“This was so tasty, baby. Thank you,” Logan’s mom kissed the top of his head. “I’ve gotta head out to the café now, don’t stay up too late alright? And make sure Remus here gets home safely.”

“I will, Mama,” Logan said. He closed her thermos that he had filled with coffee and handed it to her. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She waved and smiled at Remus and then left the two in the apartment. Remus cleared the dishes from the table and began cleaning them, without saying anything. Logan just helped to dry and put away the dishes, and when their hands met he almost dropped a glass, but he caught it, the red blush coating his face.

“You’re kind of like Wolverine,” Remus said, breaking the silence. “Other than the fact that your name is Logan. You’re strong, and you’ve been through a lot, you’re kinda sexy…” He turned off the water. “You’re like… nerdy wolverine.”

“I don’t know about that–”

Remus didn’t let him argue. He grabbed Logan’s hands which were still holding a bowl and a towel and kissed him, startling the nerdy boy. Logan stumbled back, almost dropping the bowl but he set it down gently, his face bright red and a startled look on his face.

“Don’t! Don’t pity me–”

“Logan–”

“Get out!” Logan threw the towel at Remus’ face. “I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing–”

“Logan, I’ve had a major crush on you for two years,” Remus said plainly. Logan blinked, a confused look replacing his angry face. “The way you get all excited about science and facts? At the astronomy lesson last month you had this ‘lost in the stars’ expression the whole time. So… I requested to have you be my science partner for this assignment. I wasn’t going to do or say anything but… I couldn’t help it. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve never liked anyone before, so I don’t know if I can just…”

“It’s okay,” Remus looked down. “I’ll go home. I’m really sorry, Logan. I’ll take the data and write it up, okay? You don’t need to worry.” He started to turn away, but Logan gripped his wrist.

“I’m not saying that I don’t want to, Remus,” he clarified, then sighed. “I just… I’ll need a little bit of time, okay?”

-

The bell above the door jingled as Remus stepped into the small café. He didn’t immediately see Logan, but he sat down at his usual booth, setting his backpack down next to him. Logan’s mom bounded over, a smile on her face.

“Morning, Remus,” she said, pouring some coffee into the mug in front of him. “Lo’s on dish washing duty today, but I’ll let him know you’re here, okay?”

“Thanks, Mrs. C,” Remus smiled up at her. He pulled a book out of his backpack and began reading, taking occasional sips of his coffee. After about five minutes, Logan’s mom brought over his usual sunny side up egg with some hash browns.

“Another book on reptiles, Remus?” She asked, settling into the booth across from him. “You two really are very similar.” Remus smiled, dog-tagging the page he was on and setting the book down.  He coated his entire plate with ketchup and took a bite.

“Did you know that snakes and lizards use their tongues to smell the things around them?” Remus asked, and she just giggled, sticking her tongue out. He did too, and laughed. She got up after that, doing her rounds, and he settled in deeper to the cushion.

It had been two months since the science experiment. Remus spent all of his Saturdays in the café while Logan was working. He did his homework, read books, and got to know Logan’s mom, who was quirky and silly despite her constant exhaustion. Logan was still hesitant around Remus, though, and he didn’t want to push anything. When they saw each other, Remus would just kiss the smart boy’s cheek. They hadn’t kissed again.

But they spent a lot of time together, and Remus hoped that some progress was being made. They’d study together in Logan’s apartment after school on Logan’s days off, and sometimes Logan would just rest his head on Remus’ shoulder because he was so tired. On Sundays, Logan would go over to Remus’ house, since Remus had a lot of fancy science equipment they could use together.

Every once in a while, Roman would ask what was going on between the two, but Remus would just shrug and say they were friends. He hoped that someday, he could say they were more.

“Hey,” Logan’s clear voice brought Remus out of his deep thoughts. He glanced up at Logan, who slid into the seat across from him, a plate of toast with jam on them in hand. Remus gave him a sweet smile, resting his chin on his hand.

“Hi, Lolo,” he said. “Are you on your break right now?”

“Yeah,” was Logan’s only response as he took a bite of one of the pieces of toast. Remus took a bite of his food as well, and they ate in comfortable silence until Remus felt a foot brush against his own. He raised an eyebrow at Logan, whose face was bright red.

“What’s up?” He asked, setting his fork down with a slight clang. Logan said nothing and kept eating his toast, but with his spare hand he took a folded note out of his pocket and slid it across the table. Remus gave him a confused glance but picked it up, unfolding the paper.

Remus,

There’s a documentary about eels playing at the dollar theater tomorrow. Wanna go?

-Logan

Remus giggled a little, holding back his desire to make an eel-in-his-pants joke. “Yeah, of course, Lolo. Why couldn’t you just ask?” Logan looked down, his face still bright red, and scarfed down the rest of his toast. He took a sip of Remus’ coffee, then cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of nerve wracking asking someone out on a date, okay?” Logan admitted. Remus must have looked startled, because a wave of panic crossed Logan’s face. “I-if you don’t want it to be a date–”

“No, I do, Lo, I just… I’m surprised, is all,” Remus said, giving Logan a bright smile. “I just don’t want you to rush into feeling ready for that…”

“...I’m… ready for that, Remus,” Logan said, looking down again. Remus nudged his foot again, and the two sat in a comfortable silence for the rest of Logan’s break.

-

“...you’re wearing a suit,” Logan muttered, eyeing Remus up and down. He had just opened the apartment door. “Why, exactly, are you doing that?” Remus shrugged, looking down at his own attire. It was a dark green suit.

“It’s our first date, so… yeah.” He blushed a little. “You look nice, Lo. As always.” Logan adjusted his tie, but felt like his polo shirt just wasn’t cutting it anymore. He always wore this, he figured Remus would show up in his usual torn jeans and tank top and leather jacket but no, he just had to show up looking all dapper and smelling like something he’d gotten a whiff of from a magazine once.

“Hang on,” Logan shut the door quickly, leaving a startled Remus on the other side of the door. He frowned a little, but didn’t move from his spot. Logan ran into his mom’s bedroom and flung open the closet, digging until he got to the box of his dad’s old clothes.

When he opened the door again, Remus’ jaw dropped. Logan was in a tweed jacket. LOGAN. WAS. IN. A. TWEED. JACKET. And he had changed out of his jeans into some nice dress pants and from his polo shirt to a button-down. He wore the same tie, but, god, Remus could have tackled him then.

“Lo, you look… fucking beautiful,” He smiled, pulling Logan in for a hug. His lips brushed Logan’s warm cheek, and Logan reached up to wrap his arms around the taller teen. Their lips met briefly, and Remus swore he could sprout wings and fly into the sky. “Okay, seriously though, we should go before I rip that jacket right off of you.” Logan blushed and stepped outside with Remus, then closed and locked the apartment door. Remus laced their fingers together as they walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

-

Logan insisted on buying the tickets for the film since he was the one who had initiated the date, but Remus wouldn’t let him pay for their popcorn and icee. They settled into their seats, the theater almost completely empty save for a few older folks near the middle of the theater. Logan’s leg bounced up and down, and Remus settled a hand on his thigh.

“Sorry, Remus. I’m just… nervous? I don’t know why, this isn’t the first time we’ve seen a movie, but–” He cut himself off, looking down.

“It’s okay, Lo. I’m nervous too. I don’t want to mess this up,” He kept his hand on Logan’s thigh as the lights dimmed and the film started. Logan put the drink holder between them up and leaned into Remus a little. In response, Remus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, bringing him closer.

They each made little comments throughout the film, but Logan was almost completely enthralled by the smell of Remus’ cologne, and Remus could barely breathe with the way that Logan was pressed up against him. Once the film was over, Remus insisted on walking Logan home, and once again their fingers were laced together as they walked as close together as possible under the flickering streetlights and moonlight.

As they got back to Logan’s apartment, his mother was leaving for her shift at the café. She gave them each a kiss on the cheek as she left, and then the two stood awkwardly in front of the door to the apartment. Logan rubbed the back of his neck.

“You… um… you wanna come inside for a few minutes?” He asked hesitantly. Remus glanced down, but nodded, so the two entered the apartment. They sat on the futon, barely touching, and Logan sighed. “I… I’m sorry. I just feel all tingly when I’m around you, Remus. It’s a good tingly, but… I don’t know how to cope with it.” Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and scooted closer to Logan, his hand once again finding a comfortable space on the nerd’s thigh and his arm wrapping around the padded shoulders of the tweed jacket.

“Tingly is good. I don’t want to push you too much, okay? If I’m doing something you don’t like, please tell me. You mean a lot to me, Lo,” Remus said before kissing Logan deeply. Logan kissed back, enthusiastically pressing himself against the larger man, a hand tangling in his hair. Logan’s other hand trailed under Remus’ jacket coat, making him shiver and pull back. “Lo, seriously, you don’t need to do anything you’re not ready for–”

“Remus, just shut up and kiss me more, okay?” Logan tried kissing him again but Remus stayed out of his reach.

“If we’re going to go any farther we need to discuss it first, please,” Remus’ eyes were pleading, and it took Logan by complete surprise. He figured that Remus would be ecstatic to take things to the next level physically, considering all of the jokes and hints he thought he had been given over the past few months.

“I… I think this is what I want, but how do you know when you’re ready?” Logan asked. Remus took his hands gently and brought them up to kiss each knuckle.

“I’m not so sure myself, Lo. I’ve never… had someone like you. I’ve never done anything,” He admitted, which honestly surprised Logan, and it was evident on his face. “I did say I’ve had a crush on you for years, didn’t I? I could never be with someone else, no matter how tempted I was.”

“...I haven’t either. But I feel like… I could with you. Maybe not today. But… someday?” Logan’s voice was small. Remus smiled and placed a hand on his cheek.

“I like the idea of someday, Lo,” He said, leaning in to kiss him gently. “It’ll be like a science experiment. As time goes by, we might get more and more comfortable but we will have to test the boundaries. We might get things wrong, but… eventually we will figure it out.” Logan smiled, resting his head on Remus’ shoulder. “Until then, we can take things at a snail’s pace.”

“Did you know that some aquatic snails have lungs?”

“No, but did you know that snail mucus could be good for your skin?”

[whaleiumsharkspeare]

Today’s Variantology theme is Team Awesome, and wouldn’t ya know it, I have another fic for you! Hope you like!

*note: this fic takes place in an AU where Varian didn’t become the bad guy and instead moved into the castle after QfaD until he could figure out a way to save his dad. It takes place between season 1 and season 2* Also I don’t really have a title for it so I’ll just make one up now

A Late Night Chat

Eugene was sleeping soundly in his room in the castle. It had been another long day of helping Rapunzel try to figure out the mystery behind the black rocks, as well as tagging along with her as she did her usual princess duties. Life in the castle with the royal family of Corona was busy, and sometimes it was a little crazy, but he couldn’t ask for a better life than what he had now. He considered himself incredibly luckily to even be in the same kingdom as Rapunzel, let alone to live with her in the castle. It was a charmed life for sure. As Eugene lay on his bed dreaming his cozy dreams, he suddenly felt his slumber be interrupted by a knock at the door. Shaking himself awake, he sat on his bed rubbing his eyes, wondering if he’d even heard the sound right. After a few moments, another knock tapped on the door.

“Who is that trying to wake me up this late?” Eugene muttered to himself as he felt around in the dark for the oil lamp he kept on the bedside table. “I bet it’s Cass,” he grumbled as he finally found it and switched it on. “Doesn’t she know not to interrupt me when I’m trying to get my beauty rest?” Eugene grabbed the lamp and went to the door. Opening it and looking out, he at first saw nothing. Holding the lamp up to Cass’ height and expecting her to be there, he was startled when he heard a voice that most definitely did not belong to her.

“Uh, Eugene?”

“Gah!” Startled, Eugene almost dropped the lamp but he managed to catch it before it could fall to the ground and wake the whole castle with its clatter. He held the lamp out again, this time a little lower, and its light illuminated the young face of Varian standing in front of him. His hair was a bit messier than usual and his soft blue eyes were tired. He was wearing a faded blue shirt, pants that went down to a little bit above his ankles, and white socks with gray patches on the heels. One of them was pulled up a little higher than the other, with the other sock starting to slip down his foot just a bit. When he saw Eugene acting startled, he held his hands up and stepped back a little.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

Eugene had grown accustomed to seeing Varian a lot more frequently now that he lived in the castle with them, and more specifically right next door to Eugene, but he still wasn’t expecting to see the young alchemist so late at night. Eugene took long calming breaths after startling himself.

“Oh, Varian, it’s just you.” He held the lamp up and looked him up and down. “I hardly recognized you without your goggles and gloves. Don’t you know what time it is?”

“S-sorry.”

“What are you doing up so late?”

“I, uh, I just-“ Varian shuffled his feet awkwardly and sighed. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” With the light of the lamp, Eugene could see that Varian was trying not to meet his eyes and he had a look on his face like there was something bothering him, or at least something on his mind. He looked pretty tired from the late hour, but mostly he just seemed a little unhappy. Understanding, Eugene moved out of the way of the open door. “Oh. Uh, well, do you want to come in then? Maybe talk about it?”

Varian nodded softly, still not meeting his eyes, and entered Eugene’s room. Eugene closed the door behind him and set the oil lamp down on the bedside table and turned it up brighter and lit a few candles to give the room additional light. Varian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, not moving to sit anywhere, rubbing his right arm nervously. Eugene sat on the edge of his bed, watching the boy.

“What’s on your mind, Varian?”

“Well, lots of things,” he replied. He started rambling off, going about a mile a minute. “I’m a scientist so I’ve always got something on my mind. Especially with these rocks. I mean we still don’t know what they are or where they’re coming from and no matter what I try my alchemy just can’t seem to break them. And I’ve been charting their growth and they seem to be spreading at an exponential rate, so that’s a concern of mine. And then there’s Rapunzel with her hair. I don’t know what that’s about or how she’s connected to them but it’s very unusual, and-“

“Varian,” said Eugene calmly, interrupting his rant. He knew exactly what was going on. After all, he’d been a young boy once too. He knew Varian was trying to sidestep over what was actually bothering him. Varian stopped his rambling and made himself look at Eugene, and Eugene looked him in the eyes knowingly. “What’s really bothering you?”

Varian sighed and hung his head low.

“It’s...it’s my dad. I just can’t stop thinking about him.”

Eugene looked at Varian with sympathy as he continued his thought.

“He’s been stuck in that crystal for a while now. I’ve tried lots of things to set him free but nothing seems to be working. And the more I try, the more I’m reminded of what a failure I am, and how reckless and irresponsible I was to disobey him when he told me not to mess with the rocks. I just wanted to...to prove myself to him. That I’m not just a screw up. That I can figure out a way to get rid of the rocks and save my village. I just wanted him to be proud of me for once. But now, all I really want is for him to be back. I just...just miss him.” He wiped a tear from his eye and glanced up just in time to see Eugene looking at him. Feeling embarrassed, his face turned a bright shade of pink and he looked away awkwardly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all emotional like that. I know I should probably try to be a bit stronger about this.”

“No. No, Varian,” said Eugene, his voice warm and kind. He got off his bed and put his hands on Varian’s shoulders and knelt down onto the floor so that he could match Varian’s height. “Don’t apologize for feeling emotional. That’s totally normal. It’s not healthy to suppress your feelings. You don’t have to put on a brave face and act tough. You’re not very good at acting tough anyway,” he said in an affectionately teasing manner.

“I know,” Varian replied, cracking a slight smile and letting out a little awkward laugh. Eugene continued.

“No, but seriously. What you’re going through, that’s a very difficult thing. I can understand why it would keep you up at night. Nobody should have to deal with what you’re dealing with. And uprooting yourself to come here and stay in the castle, that was probably a very hard decision, and you’re brave for making it. Don’t be embarrassed for feeling sad about what happened. Honestly, I’d be more concerned if you didn’t miss him.”

“It’s just, he’s the only family I have left. My mother passed away when I was very young. I barely remember her anymore. Without him, I’ve got no one. I’m all on my own. And I’m not a little kid, I can handle myself, but-“

“You don’t want to be alone,” Eugene finished. Varian looked up at him. Eugene shook his head in understanding. “I know exactly how you feel.”

“You do?”

“Yes. It’s hard to tell because of my roguish charm and confident personality, but I was a lot like you growing up.”

Varian smirked at him for his comment, but he listened as Eugene finished his story.

“See, you thought me and Flynn Rider from the books were the same person, but that’s just not true. ‘The Tales of Flynnigan Rider’ books were just something that I adored as a kid, and I would read one every night in the orphanage to all the younger kids.”

“The...the orphanage?” Varian asked, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Yes. I’ve only told this story to two other people so you should consider yourself lucky that you’re hearing this. But I grew up in an orphanage. I was put there as a baby. I never knew who my real parents were, or if they were even still around. I always imagined they were these great adventurers, and that one day they’d come back and find me. But they never did, and no one ever wanted to adopt me. It was hard, growing up feeling lonely all the time. Never having answers about my parents and wondering why no one seemed to want me. I felt alone very often. But I loved the Flynn Rider books and the way that he could travel around doing whatever he wanted to do with no worries, just a life of adventure. He wasn’t a thief, but for a kid with nothing, I guess it just seemed like the better option. No one ever seemed to be coming, so my buddy Lance and I struck out on our own when we were about your age. I took the name from the books, and the two of us started our life of crime. Now I’m not telling you this to condone the idea that we were right in our actions. I know that being a thief was wrong. I’m only telling you this so that you can know that someone understands how you feel. Afraid of being alone, always seeking approval from others, I know exactly where you’re coming from.”

“Wow. I had no idea,” Varian said softly. Eugene shrugged.

“I guess we all have some element of our past that we’d rather not discuss. But if we can use it to help others, then it’s worth it. The important thing to remember is that our pasts don’t have to define who we are. Whoever we were in the past, whatever decisions we made, it’s true that they shape us into the people we are, but we don’t have to let it rule our lives. We have the power to change. What happened in the past is over and done, but the future is ours for the taking, and it can be whatever we make it out to be. Maybe I was a lonely thief then, but now I’m an honest citizen surrounded by people that I love. You don’t have to be defined by your past either, Varian. You are not a failure and you are not a screw up. You made a mistake, sure, but what matters is that you’re learning from it and you’re trying to fix it. Varian, you’re a good kid. A smart kid. I know that you’re gonna figure this thing out eventually. And until then, you don’t have to be afraid of being alone. You are surrounded by people who care about you. Rapunzel cares about you, Cassandra doesn’t have a soul but she still cares about you. And I care about you, too. And one thing I learned in the orphanage is that I hate seeing sad kids, so you better smile before you leave or this whole conversation will be pointless.”

“Thanks for talking to me, Eugene. It really did make me feel better.” Varian yawned and stretched his arms. “And you’re right. It is pretty late. I should probably get back to bed.” Varian walked over to the door and stood in the doorway for a moment.

“Goodnight, Eugene.”

“Hey, now, what about our agreement?” said Eugene.

“Oh, right,” Varian replied. He flashed him a quick grin, showing off his two little front buck teeth. Eugene smiled back at him and nodded.

“There we go! That’s better. Goodnight, Varian.”

He made his way out of the doorway and started to close the door behind him.

“And Varian,” Eugene called. Varian held the door open wider to catch what he had to say. “If you ever need to talk again about something that’s bothering you, or if you just want to talk about whatever, you know where to find me. You talk, and I’ll listen.”

Varian smiled and nodded, then closed the door softly behind him. Eugene sighed in relief for having helped the boy out. Then, with a yawn and a stretch, he blew the candles out and switched off the lamp as he gave himself back up to sleep.

And that’s it! Hope you enjoyed!

[melon-kiss]

Screaming, Pt 3

Part 1

Part 2

Link to the part three on AO3

__________

“Molly, I’d like you to talk to me.”

And I’d like to be not-post-LSD traumatised. We all want something, don’t we, Mark?

I flash him an irritated look. He was the one who stabbed me with the freaking syringe two weeks ago. I’m still not over it. He surely thinks he did the right thing but I beg to differ. Although... well, it looked like I was capable of killing Sherlock Holmes, who, apparently, is a London celebrity.

Since I’ve opened my mouth (only to scream, but who cares, right?), they bring me newspapers here. It’s nice to get my hands and brain busy but I’m sure they have an ulterior motive for this. Like, I don’t know, a topic for a conversation?

“I know you can do it.”

I sit with my legs pulled up again. I want to hide in the tight space between my thighs and my chest, so I place my forehead against my knees and let out a sigh.

I’ve made it easier for them. Apparently, the connection between my brain and my body has been restored. I swallow my meds all by myself. I eat more. I especially love toasts for breakfast. Sometimes it takes me two hours to chew out two, but I make myself do it because I want this nightmare to be over.

I really start feeling it - the heaviness of my damages. I’ve come to the realisation that I am truly alone and have no idea about myself. I know only a couple of things: my name, my sister’s name and address, my own address, my workplace. My scientific knowledge is intact, so that’s a relief. But I don’t remember who I was for the last seven years (at least!). I don’t know who to trust, who to refer as a friend. I am really lost. I don’t remember feeling so lost ever in my life. I’m like a time traveller - I’m suddenly moved from one place to another and no one gave me an instruction manual. I suspect the Three Horseman of Madness used to be my friends. Though, I can’t help but wonder - how come did I manage to make friends with detectives?

And there’s still the matter of Sherlock himself. I can’t figure him out. He said, he clearly said he was now the one who’d said ‘I love you’ and would get nothing in return. Does it mean he wants to receive something in return? And does saying ‘I love you’ equal loving someone for real? What were the circumstances? And have I said it first?

The number of mysteries here is too much for me.

I’ve gathered more pieces of my memory puzzle. When the content of the syringe begun to work, I remembered myself standing in a kitchen, wearing a colourful sweater, holding a phone in my hand. Every time I try to retrieve more, a wave of anxiety forces me to back out.

“Molly, you’ve managed to break the catatonic state,” the doctor resumed. “Please, don’t let it go to waste.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Fine,” I reply.

Mark’s eyebrows go way up as he smiles and almost chuckles at the sound of my voice. I sound a bit hoarse. Last time I ‘spoke’, I screamed like in a torture seat. But they must definitely change my meds. They make me feel numb and sleepy but I assume it’s way too soon for such a request.

“What would you like to know?” I ask.

“Well... how are you feeling today?”

I sigh in exasperation.

“Seriously, Mark?”

He shrugs.

“You know what they say - if you want to know how someone feels, ask them.”

I rub my eyes before I respond.

“Sleepy and lazy. These sweeties do much more damage to my brain than LSD has done.” I point at the pills in a small plastic cup on my nightstand.

“If you don’t feel good, we’ll think about finding something better.”

“Thanks.”

We both fall silent. A guilt manages to resurface over the fog of numbness. I look at my palms. They’re normal. My fingers are appallingly bony but they look all right. No injuries. I think about the moment when they were tightly clenched around his neck. I was so close. I would kill him, no doubt.

I thank doctor Mark in my mind. He would be right to say he did the right thing.

“What... wh-what...” I stammer, my breath getting shallow and irregular. “What- what about-“

“He’s all right,” doctor Mark answers, smiling gently. “No permanent damage. A bruise on the neck and bloodshot eyes for a week. I’m convinced he looks good as new now.”

My fingers around his pale neck. His eyes filled with sorrow and guilt. He tried to say sorry.

I try to even out my breath but I fail. Tears burst out of my eyes and I utter a sound that resembles a howl. I press my hand clenched into fist against my forehead. My crying is so intense something inside me cramps and hurts. I catch every breath with a great effort, greedily but barely successful. I feel shrunken. I notice there’s a stream of drool coming out of my mouth. I let it soak up in the sheet.

This is how broken I am. This is how broken I’ll always be.

Broken beyond repair.

“I didn’t want to...” I shriek, rocking a little bit forwards and backwards. “I don’t know...”

“I know you didn’t want to hurt him, Molly,” says the doctor calmly. “You were disoriented.”

Disoriented?

“I’m not fucking disoriented!” I yell, looking at him. I don’t see him too well, my vision is blurry from the tears. I wipe my mouth into my arm. “I am messed up! Hell, I’m fucked up! And this-“ I point my finger at my temple, “This is now fucking useless. If I killed myself, no one would care.”

I let out a sigh. Inhale, exhale. I try to stop the increasing frustration. The tears stop falling down my face. My heart slows down. My breathing finds its rhythm.

“Did you think about killing yourself?”

I shrug, avoiding his eyes.

“No,” I reply sincerely. “But I wouldn’t mind if I died.”

Doctor Mark remains quiet. He stands next to my bed, holding my patient chart and observes as I slowly pull myself together. So this is what’s been hiding behind this catatonia?, I think, analysing my behaviour in last two weeks.

“You’re wrong,” he says eventually. “There is one person who would bring hell on this world if you died.”

I look up at him. He smiles.

“Don’t worry. It’ll come to you.”

He walks out of the room, leaving me clueless.

 * * *

 My reading is being interrupted by a shut of the door in my room. I raise my head up to see him glued to the wall as if he played a spy. He pants heavily and looks at me suspiciously. I frown.

“Erm... hello?”

His body relaxes and he bounces off the wall, slowly striding closer to my bed.

“Hello, Molly Hooper.”

I watch him carefully but it’s difficult since my heart pumps my blood so loudly I can barely hear my thoughts. Not that I have a lot of them. The drugs take care of that. He goes around the bed and stops at my left side. He looks down at me with a sincere interest.

There is a barely visible remain of a bruising (the author being me) on his neck. His eyes look perfectly white, his (lovely) curls don’t seem so floppy. He grins, which, I suppose, is a bit unusual of him, since this is the first time I see him smiling and he’s been visiting me for about two months. Well, excluding the last three weeks. He wears one of his suits with a plum shirt. He looks good. I have to swallow hard to distract myself from the thoughts which begin to cloud my judgment. I pretend to be interested in my book again.

“How did they let you in?” I ask flippantly.

“I’m not exactly following orders by being here,” he replies.

I look up at him.

“What do you mean?”

His gaze freaks me out but I manage not to flinch.

“I’m not allowed to be with you alone. Apparently, you’re a danger to me.”

I put away the book and stand on my bed. We’re face to face. Our heights are equal now and the distance between us is not bigger than ten inches.

“Are you afraid of me?” I ask and I start noticing I’m unable to refuse the urge of looking at him.

“No,” he responds. “Unpredictability is my forte.”

We gaze at each other for a while and the moment’s suddenly gone. But I could swear I saw a spark in his eyes - a spark ready to light a fire.

“What are you doing here, then?” I ask, crossing my arms on my chest.

“I came here to see you,” he replies, following my every move. “I heard the good news about you breaking the catatonia, so I thought it would be a wise idea to talk to you, now that you do talk.”

“You do realise that you’ve made me angry enough to wake me up, right?”

He smirks and I don’t like it. I mean... I like it, but I don’t. I have a bad feeling about this.

“I’m well aware of the fact, yes. Mainly because I’ve done it on purpose.”

My eyes widen and the urge of choking him again suddenly doesn’t feel so distant.

“WHAT?!”

He hushes me, looking at the door behind me.

“Oh, come on, we’re in a lunatics’ house. Talking to oneself isn’t unusual.”

He chuckles, visibly beaming. Did I just... make him laugh?, I think watching his face wrinkle in a pure happiness. I almost forget I was mad at him. Almost.

“So?”

“I’ve been observing your eye movements and microexpressions for weeks. You’ve been slowly opening and I knew you needed a trigger. And I know what triggers you easily, so...”

I think about the time we must have spent together. How well does he know me? Apparently, very well. Papers write a lot about his observing skills and deduction, so I assume he doesn’t need much to get to know somebody. I flash him a smile.

“Thank you.”

Instead of returning the gesture, he does something completely different. His cheerful mood fades away as he locks, almost stubbornly, his eyes with mine. I can count his eyelashes and see every speck in his blue irises. His pupils are wildly dilated. I’m close to forgetting about breathing.

He glances at my lips every now and then.

He leans forward a little bit but backs out in a second. My heart races so fast I’m sure it doesn’t go less than two hundreds beats per minute. And trust me, it’s a lot.

“So...” I whisper, not letting go of the gaze even for a microsecond. “What was the nature of our relationship before?”

“Not sexual,” he replies quickly.

I open my lips a little bit more.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” His voice is weak.

Something new and forgotten wakes up in my body. I feel a pleasant tingling in my lower back and a heat radiating from his skin. My hands are surprisingly hot as I move one of them upwards the left side of his chest. He glances at my palm but gets back to my eyes immediately. My head is so loud with wild visions.

I surrender to the urge and lock my lips with his. They’re soft and it feels like I haven’t done this in ages. He’s tense, not a muscle in his body moves. I throw my hands around his neck but his hands are stiff. I feel like an assailant. I don’t want to force him into anything but he definitely returns the kisses. It looks like he restrains himself.

I tangle my fingers into his dark curls. He closes his eyes a bit tighter and exhales softly. He definitely represses his emotions.

“Oh, come on, just give in already.”

He’s still tense for another three seconds and he finally gives up. His hands land on my waist. His embrace tightens and his mouth opens wider. He lets out a soft moan when one of my legs clenches around his hip. His touch wanders across my back, my hair, my face. He grabs my buttocks and lifts me up, so I can clench the second leg around him. When I feel his hands on my bottom, I utter a pretty loud groan. I am out of control of my body again but this time it’s different. I feel the pleasure of being taken over by it and I voluntarily surrender. I let the heat control me. I like the wild person I am right now.

His kisses slide down on my neck and turns dangerously further, into my neckline. I lean back my head, savouring the moment, the life that has woken up in my body. I definitely have troubles breathing evenly.

He lets go of me and I stand on my bed again, but the kissing doesn’t stop. I take the opportunity and slide my hand down his belly and into his trousers. He stops, looking at me questioningly.

“You really aren’t yourself,” he murmurs.

I let out a quiet giggle.

The door suddenly creaks and my hand find its way out of his pants.

“Mr Holmes, what do you think you’re doing?!” An older nurse looks at us, disgusted.

“Getting physically intimate with the patient, I’d say,” he replies and I try to hide my chuckle.

“This is a hospital, not a dirty motel! It’s inappropriate!” she yells as she comes closer. “And you shouldn’t even be here!”

He steps back from my bed and I sit on it. The nurse flashes me a disapproving look while taking my blood pressure. Not a great timing for this particular measurement, though. He goes in circles around the room; I suppose he has something to walk off. The nurse writes down the result on my patient’s chart and shakes her head but leaves without a word.

But the mood is gone. Once the nurse gets out, he locks his eyes with me but I sense a different kind of tension. I guess he regrets getting carried away. I’m not saddened by this. It seems logical to me, although it really doesn’t.

I think back to the moment when he said not sexual. How can he love me and claim it’s not sexual?, the question pops into my head. Maybe I misunderstood it and he let me kiss him out of pity?

“You once said I loved you,” I speak up. “And that you loved me.”

He nods his head, standing opposite to the end of my bed.

“Yes. But we weren’t a couple,” he replies.

I frown.

“Why?”

He stares. Unpleasantly.

“It’s a long story.” His reply is almost hissed through his gritted teeth.

“I’ve got all the time in the universe.”

He gazes at me expressionlessly. I think he’s calculating the risk or tries to introduce the story the shortest way possible. Somehow, it also seems obvious to me. He comes one step closer.

“I have a sister named Eurus. She’s highly intelligent and even more dangerous. She’s locked up in a institution built for people like her but she’d managed to turn the entire staff there to be her slaves once. She lured me, my brother Mycroft and John Watson there to execute her very cruel plan. Long story short, I had to go through a series of tests, each one of them requiring my emotional engagement. And I’m not really an affectionate person.” It sounds weird since he’s obviously very emotional. “One of my tests was you.”

I raise my eyebrows and he pauses for a minute.

“I’d been convinced that your flat was filled with explosives. Eurus said that she would blow you up if I didn’t make you say ‘I love you’.”

I love you. My heartbeat races, my vision gets a little unstable. I feel a little bit dizzy.

“But you asked me to say it first. To say it like I meant it-“

“Stop it.”

I’m unable to look in one direction for longer than a second. The room dances around me. I clench my fingers on the both sides of my bed. I feel sick and I’m pretty sure I’m going to vomit any minute. My breathing gets heavy.

“What’s going on?”

It feels like I’m going to faint. I lean forward and press my forehead against the mattress. Oh, God, I’m going to throw up, I think in a complete panic.

Say it like you mean it. The colourful sweater, the telephone, the kitchen. I love you. My not-so-impressive stomach content gets closer to my throat.

“I said it then,” he resumes as if nothing happened. “I said and I meant it: I love you.”

I have to force myself into thinking about breathing, otherwise I would be long unconscious. I struggle with the vomit and his voice, his exact voice wanders around my head.

“I tried to make amends because you’re important to me,” I hear him from over my head. “You thought you weren’t important but you do count. You’ve always counted and I’ve always trusted you-“

“Get out.”

I lean over the edge of the bed, ready to get rid of my stomach content but this is not the moment. I sense his presence and therefore I raise my eyes to look at him. The view of him doesn’t make things better.

“I said: get out.”

His presence irritates me out of sudden. Every inch of his body I was touching a couple of minutes ago seems repellent to me, his voice is like the worst music possible. The scent of his cologne makes me even more sick. I look up at him, fury in my eyes again.

“I’ve choked you once before. What makes you think I’m incapable of doing it again?” I snap at him.

He flashes me an enigmatic glance and walks out of the room.

I throw up extensively and after that, I plop onto my bed, drifting away into unconsciousness.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Can you do something with a seriously injured/sick Modern!Arthur ending up in the hospital ICU and female reader being his doctor?

This one turned out much different from what I expected. Hope it works for you, Anon! Also, for any of you who work in healthcare, forgive my bullshit. I did some research but I really know next to nothing about it. 

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of smut

You pick up the new chart for your most recent patient and sigh heavily. You figured you’d get this case. Earlier this morning, you’d heard of a car accident and that one of the drivers involved was rushed to your hospital. Sure enough, when you open it to read the patient’s info, it is the same incident. He was terfed to you in the ICU from surgery. You read the name “Morgan, Arthur” but think nothing of it. Just another name. 

Before heading to see your new patient, you stop by the lounge and grab a cup of coffee. You’d like to run downstairs to the hospital’s coffee shop and get something better, but you need to see your patient first. You chug the bitter coffee, despite it being eight at night. You’re here until morning anyways, running one of your mandatory night shifts. 

You stop at the nurse’s station and see Hailey, one of the nurses. “Hailey, have you finished with Mr. Morgan?” you ask. She nods. “Yes, I gave him a full workup. He’s still out from the surgery, but I gave him the usual amount of morphine for someone his size.” 

“His size?” you say, furrowing your brow and opening the chart again. In the section stating his height and weight, you read 6’2 and 203 pounds. You mentally shrug your shoulders and thank Hailey, asking if there’s anything more you need to know before going into his room. She shakes her head and goes off towards another room. 

When you open the door to Arthur’s room, you look at him lying in the hospital bed. He’s got the usual set up: IV, heart monitor on his finger, cast around his left arm. You open his chart again and read the surgery to fix his arm took just under five hours and they’d had to put a few pins in near his elbow. He also needed a transfusion during surgery. You go over to a board holding up his CT and x-ray scans. It was reported that he may have struck his head on the driver window of his truck and it was thought he might have some swelling in his skull. Luckily, his scans are negative for that and the only thing broken is his arm. He also has a tear in his rotator cuff and a laceration in his calf. Those things considered, he’s very lucky. You’d read the article about the accident. He’s lucky to be alive, his truck was a pretzel. 

You check over him. He is quite handsome, but you’re professional of course. He’s not the first handsome man who’s been thrown your way and he certainly won’t be the last. Just as you’re writing down some notes about his condition, his eyes open slightly and he looks around, his eyes landing on you. This is a good opportunity for you to check his mental condition, or at least as much as you can since he’s still under the influence of the anesthesia. 

“Hello Arthur, can you hear me?” you say softly, standing close to him. 

His heart beat picks up a bit and he breathes out heavily. “Was… accident…” he mumbles in a gruff voice. 

“That’s right, you were in an accident. You’re okay though, you’re in the hospital. Just take it easy and relax.”

You give him a few moments to wake up a bit further and collect himself. When you ask him if he’s in any pain, he says no. You offer him a sip of his water and he takes it. Just as you’re lowering the glass and getting ready to leave, his good hand suddenly shoots up and grabs yours. This isn’t unusual, of course. People respond differently when waking up from the drugs he’s on. At least he isn’t being aggressive. 

“You’re real pretty,” he says roughly. “Real pretty.” His eyes close and he’s out again. You smile to yourself. When you first came in and noticed his large build and rugged appearance, you didn’t figure he’d be sweet like this. You’re curious how he’ll be when he’s more coherent. 

*******************************

It’s nearly five in the morning and you’re nearly done with your shift. It’s been a long night, but not unusual. You’re making your last rounds again to check on your patients before heading home. You stop by Arthur’s room and go in. Rebecca, another nurse, is in the room, checking on his supply of fluids and the monitors. 

“Did he wake at all?” you ask.

“Only for a moment or two. Said he wasn’t feeling much.” 

“Good,” you say, but you’re curious. Rebecca’s pretty, much prettier than you in your opinion. “Hey, when he was awake, did he call you pretty?” 

“No,” she says and you can tell she’s being honest. “Why?” 

“Hmm, nothing. Just… heard from one of the other nurses he’d called them pretty,” you lie. You’ve never once thought of yourself as attractive, but pride yourself on acting like you don’t care. You’ll die before you admit to anyone that the one thing you want most is to curl up in the arms of someone who loves you. You’ve been alone so long, you’ve given up on exploring what that feels like, so you’ve pretended like you don’t care, that you prefer being alone. 

Rebecca smiles. “Well, lucky her. He’s cute! Got that rough look some girls just love.” 

“You mean you love,” you tease. She giggles and walks out. You sigh and go over to his bed, checking him over again despite Rebecca having just done it. You aren’t quite sure why, you don’t do this with the other patients when they’ve just been checked on since you can trust the nursing staff. “Get a grip on yourself,” you say quietly. “Just because he called you pretty when he was floating in outer space doesn’t mean anything. He’ll probably find you just as ugly as everyone else when he’s back to normal.” 

You mentally shake yourself and leave the room before you can make yourself sink further.

****************************************

That night, you’re back for another long 12 hour shift. You hadn’t given this Arthur Morgan another thought from the second you left his room, but now that you’re standing outside of it, you realize the effects of the anesthesia will have completely worn off by now. You brace yourself, ready for him to not remember you at all. 

When you open the door, he’s awake, though you can tell he’s still fairly doped up and could very easily fall back into a drug-induced slumber again. He doesn’t even seem to know you’re there until you’re standing next to him. 

“Mr. Morgan,” you say softly to catch his attention. He looks up at you and smiles a bit. 

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Doctor (your last name).”

“You’re my doc?” he says, his voice soft. “Well, ain’t I the luckiest?” 

You smile down at him. “Don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan, there are plenty of doctors here that are just as good as me. Some are probably even better.” 

“Bet none of ‘em are as pretty as you though.” 

This stops you. It wasn’t like the last time when he called you pretty. He’s much more conscious this time, though still doped up. “Like I said, don’t be silly, Mr. Morgan. Now while you’re awake, I want to ask you a few questions.” 

You go through the usual questions for someone in his state, making sure he doesn’t have a brain injury, how much of the incident he can recall, and of course if he’s in any pain or experiencing any numbness. Again, he’s lucky, he can recall most of what happened and his pain is manageable.

Just as you’re making your last notes, he catches your attention. “Am I gonna get transferred somewhere else any time soon?” 

“Not if we can help it, Mr. Morgan. We’re hoping you’ll be out of here tomorrow, then you’ll be taken to post-surgery. Once you’re deemed well enough to go home, you’ll be released.”

He smiles again. “Good. Will you be down there with me?”

His question takes you by surprise. Of course you’ve had patients get attached to you, but they’re usually the ones that stay here for longer periods of time. 

“N-no, Mr. Morgan. I’m an ICU doc, I don’t do anything with surgery.” 

His smile fades a bit. “But you will come see me, won’t ya?” 

You can’t resist the look of hope in his face. “I will do my best, Mr. Morgan.” 

*************************************

Arthur stays in your section of the hospital for the remainder of the night, but in the morning he’s well enough to be transferred to post-surgery. You aren’t there when he’s rotated, so when you check the room that night to find it empty, you feel a bit bummed. You go to your office and look up his record to find where he’s been moved. Room 102 in post surgery and he’s scheduled to be released in the morning as long as his new doctor determines the amount of pain he’s in. 

You decide to go visit Arthur in his new room to see how he’s doing. You rarely do this for your patients, except for those you take an academic interest in (such as a few years ago when a teenage girl got ejected from a vehicle and lived). You’ve never done it because of a personal interest though. 

After making your rounds, you make your way to the post surgery unit. You greet some of the doctors you pass by, some of them you know. Finally you find room 102. You knock on the door and open it, wondering if he’s asleep. His TV’s on, playing some silly late night adult cartoon, but his eyes are closed. You can tell by his expression he’s not asleep. 

You approach his bed slowly and he opens his eyes, a smile immediately stretching across his face. “Hey doc. I’m real glad you came to see me.” 

“Hello, Mr. Morgan. Just wanted to make sure you’re adjusting fine,” you lie. 

“Oh I’m peachy.” 

“You glad to be going home tomorrow? I’m sure they explained the process to you of dealing with your broken arm.” 

“They did, yes. But I ain’t too sure about how I’m gonna get home. Call an Uber I guess.” 

“You don’t have someone to pick you up and take you home?” you ask. 

“Nah. I’ve lived alone on my ranch for some time now. Used to live with my adopted father, uncle and brother but… father died, uncle went crazy and ran off, my brother did too. Ended up in a big mess and I was left with the ranch they owned. I ain’t got no one. ‘Cept Copper my dog. Ya can call him but he don’t answer his cell hardly ever.” 

You laugh, despite yourself. “Bet he would if he could, Mr. Morgan. And I’m real sorry about your predicament. Don’t you have a girlfriend or… someone special who you could depend on?” 

Okay, now you’re treading in dangerous waters. Asking him questions to scope out if he’s available or not. What is wrong with you? 

“Nah, I was engaged a few years ago but… it didn’t end well. Her daddy didn’t like me and to be honest I ain’t too sure why I ever loved her. She used me a lot. Ain’t had no one since.”

“I almost find that hard to believe, good looking man like yourself.’

Seriously, what is wrong with you? It’s time to stop. You should never have come down here. Just because he called you pretty a couple times when he was doped to hell doesn’t mean he was interested in you. For all you know, he’s just a friendly guy when he’s drugged up. Some patients are like that. You once had a woman younger than you try to adopt you and the rest of your staff when she came out of having surgery and got tossed to your department.

“Nah, most women don’t seem interested in me. ‘Sides, I ain’t what I’d call good looking,” he says. 

“Hmm, well maybe you need to look at yourself from someone else’s perspective, Mr. Morgan.” Okay, you’re really pushing your personal envelope here. It’s time to leave before you step into dangerous waters. Close the curtains on this before you get into something you’ll regret. “Well, I’m glad you’re doing better, Mr. Morgan. I’m real sorry for your predicament, but it could certainly be worse.” 

You close his chart and begin turning to leave, making yourself silently promise to never make it a point to see him again. Just as you’re about to grab the door handle, he calls to you. 

“You, uh, you ain’t single, I’m guessin’,” he says. 

“W-why?” you ask. 

“Well,” he’s blushing now. “Was thinkin’ I’d really like to get to know ya. Not when I’m stuck in a hospital bed with God knows what bein’ pumped into me so I don’t feel nothin’. Proper, I wanna get to know ya proper. Take ya to dinner maybe.” He rubs the back of his neck with his good hand. “Course if you’re with someone, I don’t wanna get in the way of that.”  

You sigh and turn to face him. “I’m not with anyone, Mr. Morgan. Trust me, though. You don’t wanna date me. I’m… I’m a workaholic. Most of my time is spent here and when I am at home I’m doing paperwork.” 

“Well it’s nice to know you’re so dedicated to your career but that don’t tell me a damn thing about ya.” 

You shuffle your feet and look away. “You’re better off not knowing me, Mr. Morgan. Most people get to know me don’t like me. Not like that anyways.”

“Can I be my own judge on that?” he asks. “Please, doc, I’d love to take ya to dinner. Humor me just once?” 

You sigh. “Okay.” 

**********************************

A few weeks have gone by and you haven’t heard a peep from Arthur, despite having exchanged cell numbers with him. Not that you’re surprised. Once he weaned himself off the major painkillers, he probably came to his senses. You try to pretend to yourself that you’re not bummed about it and drown yourself in work. It’s hard to convince yourself that you weren’t excited though. You haven’t been on a date in years. 

Just as you’ve finally begun to forget the whole thing, your cell phone goes off on one of the few nights you have to yourself. You pick it up and read the text. “Sorry I haven’t spoken to you since I was released. Been trying to put my life back together. Dinner still? -Arthur.” 

So he hasn’t forgotten you. Your stomach tightens. Do you really want to go through with this? Part of you wants to lie and say you’ve gotten into a relationship with someone else. “Come on, Y/N,” another voice says. “You didn’t get to becoming a doctor through squeezing out of uncomfortable situations. If it ends up awkward, just get some bread rolls, hightail it out of there and block his number.” 

It’s been ages since you did something for yourself on a personal level though. Sure, you’ve done a lot of things you didn’t like in order to advance in your education and your career, but not on a personal level. 

It’s been ten minutes since you got his text and you’ve been arguing with yourself on whether or not to take him up. Finally you pick up your phone and type “I’d love that.” 

A few moments go by and he responds back, asking where you’d like to go.

*******************************************

Three days later, you’re standing outside your favorite restaurant, an Indian place, waiting for him to arrive. You’re still scared of what might happen tonight, but you’re betting nothing good will happen. You doubt he’ll attack you or anything, most likely he’ll just figure out he really doesn’t like you and then never speak to you again. Hell, he might already be ghosting you. Whatever, if he is, no skin off your nose. You’ll just order out from this place and take it home to watch your favorite movie. 

It’s fifteen minutes past when he said he’d be here, but still nothing. You sigh and start turning to walk in when you hear the engine of a truck pull into the driveway. Turning around, you see a gray Dodge Ram pulling into a space. A moment later, Arthur gets out of it. He beams when he sees you, his arm still in a cast and walking with a slight limp. 

“Sorry I’m late. Traffic jam held me up.” He grabs the door and holds it open for you.

“Oh, th-thanks,” you say. 

Over dinner, Arthur asks you a ton of questions about yourself. You’ve never opened up so much to anyone, but he seems so genuine in his responses and so enthusiastic about getting to know you, you can’t help it. You end up staying at the restaurant for two hours.

He reveals a lot about himself as well, what his life is like now and how it used to be before his family fell apart. You can’t help but think you couldn’t find a more loyal, hard working man than him. By the end of the two hours, you can’t help but wonder if you’re feeling something for him. 

You finally leave the restaurant, but more for the sake of the waiting staff than anything else. Arthur walks you over to your car. When you get there, he stops you. “Y/N, thanks for lettin’ me take ya to dinner.” 

Oh no, he’s going to follow up with this by telling you he isn’t interested in going further. You mentally prepare yourself to block this in order to protect yourself. 

“I’d love to go out with ya again, if you’d like. Ya seem like a wonderful person.” 

“Huh?” you say out loud.

“I, uh, I said-” 

“No I know what you said,” you respond, your face burning. You hadn’t meant to voice your confusion. “I meant… why in the hell would you want to go out with me? Honestly you’re a trooper for doing it once. You must be insane for wanting a second go.” 

He cocks his head to the side slightly. “You really don’t like yourself much, do you?” 

His question causes you to blush even more. You look down at your feet, not sure what to say. “I guess not. That’s why I became a doctor. I didn’t do it because I wanted to help people. Just… guess I wanted to boost my own ego.” 

He sighs heavily. “Y/N, can I try somethin’ with ya? If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.” 

“What is it?” you ask quietly, on the verge of tearing up. 

He extends his good arm, holding it out to you. You realize what he’s offering to do. You can’t remember the last time anyone hugged you, or even touched you in any kind of affection. He slowly approaches and you feel yourself tensing up. His arm gently wraps around you, his hand gently touching your mid back. He slowly pulls you to him until you have to settle against his chest. You find yourself leaning into him though. God, he’s warm and he’s firm. He smells good too. You’d been worried he wanted to hug you in order to gain some kind of grounds for sex, but this feels different. Platonic, almost. His arm grips you tight and you rest against him. A vortex of emotions goes through you. Confusion, fear, yearning, but most of all, gratitude. You know exactly what effects physical touch can do to a person, the chemicals it releases. How humans are wired to thrive better both physically and mentally through touch. Yet you’ve received so little of it, it feels almost alien to you. 

As he continues to hold you, you suddenly find yourself crying into his blue plaid shirt. You don’t know why, either. As the first few tears fall, you feel something inside yourself breaking like a dam and you’re sobbing. He pulls away, looking down at you, a worried expression on his face. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you upset. You shoulda said you didn’t like-”

“No it’s not you, I’m the one who should be apologizing,” you sniffle, rubbing your cheeks dry. “I don’t know why I’m crying, Arthur. All I know is… you’ve shown me more kindness tonight than I’ve experienced throughout the last five years.”

“Jesus, Y/N, I done hardly nothin’.” He looks down, the expression of worry changing to sorrow. He extends his arm again to you and you happily go into it, resting against his warm, strong body.

**************************************

You’ve been on multiple dates with Arthur at this point. During every single one of them, he’s made it a point to hold you close to him. He knows now just how touch-depraved and starved you are. He’s the same way, he’s admitted, so he enjoys the opportunities too. Your last date had been nothing but you both curling up on your couch wrapped in each other’s embrace as you watched a movie. You ended up falling asleep in his arm, but he didn’t move at all. He just loved the sensation of having someone he loved trust him enough to do so. 

Your first kiss had been sweet. It had been sunset and Arthur insisted on taking a walk in a park not too far from your house. He’d held your hand the entire time, but halfway through your walk, he’d stopped you and pulled you into a kiss. He didn’t push things further with you than that, but since then you’ve kissed him every time you’ve seen him. Even those times you’ve only seen him for five minutes. 

You’ve started to really fall hard for him. You’re starting to think you want to sleep with him. How could you not, after all? He’s handsome, tall, broad, but more than that, he’s sweet, thoughtful, and compassionate. However, it will be hard for you to make love to him with his cast still on. Even when it comes off, he’ll need physical therapy. But you might be able to make things work. 

That night when he comes over, you greet him with a home cooked dinner (a rare occurrence for you). He greets you with a sweet, soft kiss. After dinner, you take his hand. 

“I have a surprise for you,” you say, trembling lightly. You haven’t slept with anyone since college, and those people you felt no affections for. You’d slept with them to blow off steam to handle the stress of school. Arthur’s different. You want to have sex with him to show him how much you love him. 

“Oh?” Arthur says, curious. You lead him to your bedroom. He’s well acquainted with it. One night you’d gotten pretty sick from some bad food. When you told him your predicament, he’d come over and slept in your bed, holding you all night. He’s spent several nights in your bed since, but he’s never tried pulling a move. 

When you get to your room, you guide him to sit down on your bed. When he’s positioned, you slip off your shirt and then your bra. You can hear his breathing pick up and his eyes go down to your tits. 

“Ya… ya sure?” he asks. 

You bite your lip, smile and nod. “Yes, Arthur. I’m ready.” You slide into his lap, straddling him and gently push him to lay on his back. He does so, letting you take complete control. You undress him slowly, being aware of his injured arm. He’s so goddamn attractive, you can’t help but admire the hair on his chest, his firm arms, his treasure trial, beyond that. You already know he’s going to put all your past sexual encounters to shame. 

“Let me take a refresher course in anatomy, Mr. Morgan. You obviously don’t mind being my subject,” you say. God, you couldn’t make this sound more like a bad porno if you tried. Oh well, he seems excited. You mentally roll your eyes at yourself and go to work. 

***************************************

In the morning, you wake up still naked, lying with your head on Arthur’s chest. His heart drums in your ears. His hand starts brushing through your hair, he knows you’re awake. You look up at him and smile. 

“I never asked if you liked my surprise,” you say. 

He grins. “More than you know.” He leans up and kisses you sweetly. “When this arm’s better, I’ll make sure to really give you a good time, darlin’.”

You groan into his mouth. He’d done some pretty amazing things to you last night you definitely won’t forget for a long time, if ever. “I can’t wait.”

[dceshims-blog]

↳ damn, is that MOON DAESHIM ? the IM CHANGKYUN lookalike gotten quite the reputation around here. the 23 year old RAPPER / PRODUCER has been in london for ONE year now. people say they are only HEDONISTIC + SELF DESTRUCTIVE, but they’re actually CHARMING + ADVENTUROUS once you get to know them. don’t get too comfortable, though, no one knows HIS AGENCY / COMPANY PAID TO HAVE SOMETHING HE DID HIDDEN FROM THE WORLD.

 HIYA  HEY  HELLO,  i'm  gem,  i'm  21+,  i  go  by  she  her  pronouns  &  live  in  the  cst  !  i'm  also  a  hot  mess  who  likes  hurting  my  characters  ...  hence  the  reason  that  dae's  life  is  as  big  of  a  mess  as  it  is.  he's  a  new  character,  which  means  not  everything  is  fleshed  out  like  i  would  like  it  to  be  but  you  can  find  his  basic  information,  stats,  bullet  point  bio,  personality  &  a  few  wanted  connections  ideas  under  the  cut  !  

tw:  mentions  of  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse,  car  accidents,  hit  and  run  scenario,  death  &  injuries  !

                                         basic  information.

full  name:  moon  daeshim. nickname(s):  moon,  dae,  shimmy,  daedae.  (  the  last  one  is  use  by  his  mother  &  mother  ONLY  ) age:  twenty-three. date  of  birth:  tbd. birthplace:  daegu,  south  korea. gender:  cismale. pronouns:  he  /  him  /  his. orientation:  pansexual. occupation:  rapper,  producer,  composer. language(s)  spoken:  korean,  english,  japanese,  chinese,  thai,  french  &  spanish.

                                    physical  appearance.

faceclaim:  im  changkyun  (  i.m  )  of  monsta  x. hair  color:  changes  pretty  frequently,  currently  black. eye  color:  brown. height:  6  ’  0  ". weight:  175. build:  athletic. tattoos:  quite  a  few,  far  to  many  to  name  ...  mostly  black  &  grey. piercings:  7  in  his  left  ear,  8  in  his  right,  tongue  piercing,  eyebrow  piercing  on  his  left  brow  &  scars  from  old  snake  bites  under  his  bottom  lip.

                                                    health.

physical  ailments:  alcohol  abuse,  drug  abuse. neurological  conditions:  n/a. allergies:  seasonal  ailments. sleeping  habits:  3-4  hours,  restless,  tosses  &  turns. eating  habits:  lives  of  of  fast  food  &  take  out  usually,  sometimes  goes  to  'fancier'  places. exercise  habits:  has  personal  trainers  who  he  works  out  with  three  times  a  week. body  temperature:  hot  natured. addictions:  alcohol,  tobacco,  drugs,  sex. drug  use:  frequent. alcohol  use:  frequent.

                                       personality. (  pt  1.  )

label:  tbd.

positive  traits:  charming  &  adventurous. negative  traits:  hedonistic  &  self-destructive. fears:  tbd. hobbies:  cooking,  video  games,  shopping,  board  games,  swimming,  poker,  going  to  the  movies,  traveling,  exercising,  eating  out. habits:  jiggles  leg  up  &  down,  taps  feet  on  occasion,  runs  fingers  through  hair  often,  constantly  glances  at  his  watch,  rolls  his  eyes,  cracks  knuckles  /  bones,  shifts  in  his  seat  when  nervous  /  irritated,  clenches  jaw,  gestures  when  speaking,  props  feet  up  on  desks  /  tables,  constantly  checks  his  phone. quirks:  wears  a  lot  of  jewelry,  good  with  technology,  paces  back  &  forth  when  in  deep  thought  or  when  nervous,  mumbles  to  himself  on  occasion,  constantly  on  social  media,  bites  &  chews  on  lips,  night  owl,  addicted  to  texting,  can  play  musical  instruments,  dyes  his  hair  a  different  color  constantly,  addicted  to  caffeinated  drinks,  always  has  to  have  the  'best’  of  everything  he  owns,  has  to  have  a  fan  on  to  sleep,  chews  ice  cubes.

                                              favorites.

season:  fall,  winter. color(s):  matte  black,  chrome,  army  green,  gold  &  silver. music:  will  listen  to  anything  as  long  as  he  likes  it,  doesn’t  matter  what genre. movies:  watches  pretty  much  everything,  mostly  enjoys  suspense,  action  &  comedy. sport(s):  doesn’t  really  care  for  sports,  watches  it  if  it's  on  at  bars. beverage(s):  anything  and  everything,  other  than  sparkling  water. food:  anything  from  luxurious  5  star  meals  to  instant  ramen  cooked  at  home. animal:  dogs.

                                                  family.

father: tbd. mother: tbd. sibling(s):  n/a. children:  n/a. pet(s):  tbd. family’s  financial  status:  upper  class.

                                                  extras.

zodiac sign:  tbd. mbti:  entp-a.  (  the  debater.  ) enneagram:  type  eight. (  the  challenger.  ) temperament:  sanguine. hogwarts  house:  slytherin. moral  alignment:  tbd. primary  vice:  tbd. primary  virtue:  tbd. element:  fire.

                                             biography.

born  in  daegu,  south  korea  to  two  extremely  wealthy  parents.

his  father  was  a  very  well  known  idol,  his  mother  a  fashion  designer.

meaning  that  dae  was  in  the  spotlight  since  BIRTH,  he's  never  known  anything  other  than  fame  &  fortune.

that  of  course,  went  to  his  head  from  a  very,  very  young  age  &  it  caused  this  sort  of  god  complex  in  him.

his  nannies  HATED  having  to  work  for  his  parents  &  take  care  of  him  because  he  made  their  lives  a  living  hell  basically.  not  because  he  was  MEAN  or  something  like  that  but  because  he  was  just  picky  &  was  used  to  getting  what  he  wanted.

which  did  cause  him  to  be  bratty  &  he  did  have  the  tendency  to  throw  fits  when  he  didn't  get  what  he  wanted,  always  going  to  his  parents  whenever  the  nannies  wouldn't  give  dae  what  he  wanted  &  they'd  end  up  either  quitting  or  getting  fired.

things  didn't  really  change  through  the  years,  to  be  honest.  he  got  less  'whiny'  about  things,  but  was  still  use  to  just  asking  for  whatever  he  wanted  &  getting  it  as  soon  as  humanly  possible.

he  was  fourteen  when  he  first  started  showing  interest  in  music,  though  he  didn't  follow  in  his  father's  footsteps  by  becoming  a  trainee.  he  was  more  into  producing  &  composing  than  anything.

it  wasn't  until  a  few  years  later  that  he  started  rapping  to  the  music  he  was  composing  in  order  to  try  &  get  them  bought  by  companies.

people  thought  that  he  was  actually  wanting  to  be  a  rapper  instead  of  just  a  producer  /  composer,  so  when  the  companies  kept  asking  him  if  he  was  interested  in  being  a  rapper,  he  figured  why  not.

that  was  the  start  of  his  career,  his  first  mini-album  skyrocketed  his  name  further  into  fame,  quickly  becoming  the  most  talked  about  rookie  in  the  business.

things  only  got  better  from  there,  each  album  he  dropped  debuted  at  the  top  of  charts,  keeping  his  name  in  the  spotlight  CONSTANTLY.

after  years  of  that,  things  started  getting  to  him  ...  the  stress  of  always  having  to  drop  something  new  and  fresh  caused  daeshim  to  start  to  spiral,  drinking  &  doing  drugs  almost  every  night  as  a  way  to  get  away  from  all  of  it  even  if  it  was  just  for  a  few  hours.

this  started  the  rumor  mill  to  begin,  articles  of  his  partying  ways,  the  clubbing  &  everything  like  that  starting  to  pile  up  one  after  the  next.  as  well  as  the  rumors  and  scandals  of  his  nudes  being  leaked  &  him  taking  home  as  many  people  he  wanted  to  because  he  truly  just  didn't  care  about  his  image  or  anything  like  that.

it  was  his  twentith  birthday  that  would  change  EVERYTHING  for  dae.  he'd  decided  to  go  out,  celebrate  by  drinking  &  going  wild  for  the  night  ...  stupidly  driving  home  from  the  club  that  night.

mid-way  home  he  happened  to  get  into  a  crash,  car  getting  totaled  as  well  as  a clipping  a  few  passer-bys ...  causing  one  to  pass  away  &  the  other  to  get  severely  injured  as  well  as  dae  getting  a  laundry  list  of  injuries  as  well.

he  was  okay  enough  to  walk  away  from  the  incident,  though  not  without  some  problems  of  his  own...  walking  back  to  his  agent's  home  as  it  was  the  closest  thing  he  could  get  to.

he  wasn't  expecting  his  agent  to  instantly  try  and  cover  everything  up,  calling  doctors  to  come  visit  daeshim  at  his  home,  sending  people  out  to  clean  up  the  scene  of  the  accident  &  make  sure  that  the  people  who  were  witnesses  or  involved  were  paid  off  to  keep  their  mouth  shut.

that  guilt  weighed  on  him  pretty  instantly,  his  injuries  being  hidden  from  the  media  while  they  healed  and  the  other  people  involved  continued  to  be  paid  off  so  that  no  one  knew  what  had  happened.

he  dealt  with  all  of  that  for  a  few  years  but  after  a  while,  he  couldn't  do  it  anymore.  deciding  to  publicly  declare  he'd  be  taking  a  break  from  making  music,  producing  &  composing...  taking  time  out  for  himself  &  his  own  mental  health  &  wellbeing.

it  was  only  a  week  after  that  when  dae  found  himself  in  london,  hoping  to  be  able  to  start  over  the  best  as  he  could.

                                    personality. ( pt 2. )

literally  the  Worst.

is  a  rich  bitch  and  makes  sure  EVERYONE  knows  that  even  if  he  doesn’t  speak  it… comes  in  the  form  of  his  clothing,  sports  cars,  accessories… literally  everything.

has  kinda  made  a  name  for  himself  in  the  london  that  isn't  to  far  off  from  what  the  media  constantly  talked  about  and  that's  him  being  a  Party  Animal.  goes  to  clubs  /  bars  every  weekend  (  sometimes  more  frequently  depending  on  his  mood.  )  as  well  as  a  bit  of  a  'player’.

extremely  hedonistic  and  a  bit  of  a  shopaholic.  is  always  seen  with  the  latest  &  greatest  makes  and  models  of  things.  always  has  designer  clothes  on.  always  is  out  shopping  for  something  new  at  least  three  times  a  week,  sometimes  more.

can  be  pretty  cocky  at  times,  he  knows  how  he  looks,  he  knows  how  much  money  he  has  and  sometimes  he  lets  that  go  to  his  head  &  his  ego.  though  he  TRIES  not  to  be  like  that  just  because  he  honestly  can’t  stand  when  other  people  boast  about  their  wealth  or  looks  on  a  daily  basis.

is  actually  really  relaxed  when  it  comes  down  to  it,  as  much  as  he  loves  to  party…  there’s  a  part ��of  him  that  just  loves  lounging  at  home  watching  movies  just  as  much.  but  usually  refuses  to  do  so  alone,  will  invite  someone  to  come  over  just  so  he  doesn’t  have  to  be  in  his  (  cough…. giant …  cough  )  house  alone.

tends  to  hate  being  told  what  to  do.  comes  from  having  to  conform  to  what  his  agent  /  company  wanted  him  to  do  &  say  for  as  many  years  as  he  did  so  now  he’d  rather  just  do  what  he  wants,  when  he  wants  to  do  it  and  because  of  that  he  can  be  a  little  bit  selfish  sometimes.

he  wants  to  be  able  to  LIVE  and  have  fun,  do  what  he  wants  on  his  own  terms  and  go  from  there.

genuinely  not  a  bad  person,  though  his  ego  &  cockiness  sometimes  tend  to  cover  that  side  of  him  up. as  well  as  the  grief  &  guilt  of  what  he’s  done  in  the  past  causing  him  to  be  extremely  guarded.

loves  to  SPOIL  the  people  he  knows,  if  he  goes  out  shopping,  he’s  probably  buying  something  for  his  friends  in  the  process.  

is  the  type  of  person  that  just  loves  to  give  people  shit  but  does  so  in  a  loving  &  caring  way.  aka  will  roast  you  but  then  offer  to  take  you  to  dinner  or  something  like  that.

he’s …  trying.  not  trying  his  BEST,  sure.  but  he  is  still  trying  and  ig  that  counts  for  something,  right  ?

                                                plot ideas.

flirtationship.  he  absolutely  LOVES  to  flirt  his  ass  off…  with  whoever  he  can  because why  the  hell  not  ?

enemies.  whatever  the  reason  might  be,  they  just  don’t  get  along.  maybe  they  just  bicker  back  and  forth  or  perhaps  they  actually  just  despise  each  other  in  general.

hate  sex.  lsn… i’m  a  sucker  for  this  and  there’s  a  lot  of  reasons  someone  could  dislike  or  hate  dae  &  well  he  also  like  sex  so  why  not  pair  the  two  things  ?

best  friends.  he’s  never  really  had  anyone  he  fully  thought  he  could  rely  on  or  lean  on,  so  someone  he  met  here  who  he  bonded  with  instantly  would  be  gREAT.

will  add  more  as  i  think  of  them  !

[ironarrow87]

NCIS One Shot: Occam’s Razor

Summary: DiNozzo doesn't usually tell his boss what to do, but he feels that Gibbs should tell you how he feels before its too late. Will Gibbs take his advice?

Word Count: 3k

Song: Prodigal by OneRepublic

Warnings: Angst...sadness probably...some brief gore

Notes: One taught me love, one taught me patience, and one taught me pain.

Occam’s Razor is defined as a rule used in both science and philosophy that suggests that the multiplication of entities leads to unlikely occurrences. In other words, the more assumptions that are made to reach a conclusion, the more unlikely the explanation will be. The least amount of speculation, or the simplest explanation, is often what will lead to the realest and truest result. It is as easy as going from point A to point B.

But-

Life doesn’t move in a straight line, does it?

We say good-bye

I turn my back

1.  

At the very least, Gibbs has not fired you yet.

‘Yet’ being the key word.

He had expressly and explicitly told the team not to get involved in the case. It was too dangerous, and he was unwilling to lose a member of the team.

“Do not get involved.” He was warning them, but it sounded like a threat. His blue eyes skim the team, but they land harshly on your face. “Is that understood?”

The rest of the team murmurs agreements of “Yes, boss” and “Yes, sir”, but you haven’t said a word.

His eyes narrow. “[Y/N]? Is that understood?” Gibbs almost sounds angry with the amount of force he puts into his words.

You chew the inside of your cheek. “I-”

“Ah, [Y/N], there you are. Are you ready?”

Gibbs turns sharply to face the Director coming down the stairs. “Ready? Ready for what?”

The Director raises an eyebrow at you before answering him slowly. “She’s going undercover in your current case.”

You don’t even have the chance to open your mouth when Gibbs answers, “The hell she is. Find someone else for the role.”

Vance does not look amused at the rudeness Gibbs is giving him. “[Y/N] is a grown adult and agent capable of making her own decisions.”

“I don’t care. She’s part of my team, therefore it's my decision.”

Vance doesn’t take to Gibbs’s challenge to power very well. He draws himself to full height, already towering from his place on the stairs. “And I oversee your entire team. [Y/N] is doing this, whether you like it or not, Gibbs.” He turns, going back up the stairs. “Come along, [Y/N].”

You swallow, heart rate through the roof, and the entire floor’s eyes on you. You move slowly to the stairs. Gibbs grabs your arm, his voice a bit growly and a bit hoarse. “Reconsider this. It’s a dangerous mission. You may not survive.”

You shrink under his gaze, which seems to be a cross between pleading and fury. “I...I...those kids, Gibbs. They’re in trouble. And I fit the description for the necessary role…” you manage to squeak out.

He lets go. He understands. But he doesn’t.

He wishes he didn’t have to watch you disappear into the Director’s office.

Run away, run away

So predictable

2. 

Gibbs kicks his desk in anger once you’re out of sight. The rest of the team doesn’t cower away per say, but they do try to keep out of Gibbs’s way. When he glances up and sees them, he gives a heavy sigh.

“Make sure you can give her all the support and help she can get. Make sure she’s over prepared.”

The team stares at him, unsure. “Go!” he barks at them. They all scurry off, and Gibbs stalks to an empty break room.

He takes a deep breath and throws an empty cup at the wall.

It doesn’t help him feel better. He rests his hands on the table in front of him and lets his head hang a bit, breathing in and out.

“Boss?”

He closes his eyes briefly before answering quietly. “What is it, DiNozzo?” There’s a brief hesitancy in DiNozzo’s demeanor that makes Gibbs’s irritation spike a bit. “Well?”

DiNozzo all but blurts out, “I think you should tell her, boss.”

Gibbs looks up at him, frustration rising. “Tell her what, DiNozzo?”

DiNozzo is just looking at him with sympathy now, his voice softer. “You know what, Boss. We can see the way you look at her.”

Gibbs’s eyes narrow. “I-”

DiNozzo cuts him off, backing out of the room, hands raised in surrender. “We just want to see you happy. Just...make sure you tell her before it's too late.”

Gibbs throws another cup at the wall when he’s gone.

Not far from here

You see me crack

3. 

To say this mission was dangerous was an understatement. You had freed the kids, and in return, you have been shackled to an unknown cellar floor.

You’re dehydrated. Tired. In pain from the gunshot wound you sustained. Your lips are so cracked, they’ve bled and then dried because of the lack of water.

You can barely feel the gunshot wound anymore. The pain was so sharp and intense the first couple days. Then it became a dull ache.

Now it just twinges now and then. Unless one of your captures decide you’re misbehaving, or giving attitude, or just breathing the wrong way, and they dig their fingers into your wound until you’re screaming in pain all over again.

You suppose you should be worried about the numbness of the wound. Your trained background gives you the knowledge that infection is likely, blood loss is major, and lack of fluid is putting you at high chances of not making it.

Still, you hope Gibbs will come find you just to give you a smack upside your head and tell you how much of an idiot you were.

Damn, what you’d do for that right now.

Darkness consumes your vision and gives you brief sweet relief.

Like a bone, like a bone

I'm so breakable

4. 

When you open your eyes, you’re aware that you’re moving. Everything is blurry but you can hear the wailing of sirens so close that you must be inside an ambulance. The sound hurts your head, and you try to cover your ears only to find your hands have been strapped down in a stretcher. You give the smallest whine.

There’s a feeling of gentle hands covering your ears, and your eyes swing to your savior. Your vision is still too blurry, and you can’t tell if you have blood in your eyes or the dehydration has messed with your sight, but even now you can tell that the man is Gibbs sitting beside you.

You try moving your tongue in your mouth to form words, but it doesn’t agree with your plan.

“[Y/N] I need to tell you something.” You make a sound to let him know you’re listening. He hesitates, and then. “I was scared we were going to be too late.”

You shake your head as much as you can. He continues. “DiNozzo told me that...that I should tell you how I feel before it's too late…”

Your eyebrows furrow, a loud ringing in your ears drowning out everything else. You can see the blurry figure of Gibbs stand and maybe he’s yelling for some help, you can’t tell.

You can just make out Gibbs’s low voice in your ear soon after, and it helps you drift back off into the darkness.

And I take everything from you

But you'll take anything

5. 

Beep, beep, beep. You feel a lot better, the slow incessant beeping of the heart monitor filling the room.

You groan. There’s an immediately shuffling beside you that puts you on guard.

“Hey,” says the quiet voice.

You relax. “Gibbs..”

“In the flesh.”

You give him a small smile and then look down at yourself, surveying the damage.  

He offers you your chart quietly.

You take it with a small smile. “Thank you.” Skimming the chart, it tells you nothing you already figured out for yourself.

“Did you happen to hear what I said in the ambulance?”

You look up from your chart, shaking your head slowly.

He nods, briefly closing his eyes. “Can I tell you again?”

You nod, eyebrows furrowing again when he comes closer and covers your hands with his. They’re warm.

“I..like you, [Y/N].”

You blink, startled, cheeks going red. “Like me?”

His ears are red, nodding in agreement, seemingly rendering himself mute after putting his energy into admitting it to you.

You grip his hands. “I like you, too.”

Won't you?

6. 

Aches wake you from your slumber. You yawn softly, sitting up from the bed. Pain shoots through your stomach, and you give a sharp cry.

Gibbs is immediately at your side. “Hey, easy there.” He helps you sit up against your pillows. Sitting up, you can see that there are flowers near the window, a bunch of them probably from the team.

“Thank you,” you say sheepishly. He reaches over and pulls a tray to you. You look down at the most fantastic array of breakfast foods in front of you.

In fact, a lot of it was stuff you loved.

“How did you…?”

Gibbs looks embarrassed again. “Ah...I noticed what stuff you eat on early morning cases.”

You redden. “Oh.”

Run away, run away

Like a prodigal

7. 

Bouncing from foot to foot by your door, the first date you have with Gibbs makes you feel insanely nervous. You don’t understand why you’re feeling this way when you’ve worked with the man for years now, but you still squeeze the hem of your dress while waiting for him to pick you up.

He comes exactly at 7, and brings you out to a fancy restaurant.  Waiting there for you is a bouquet of roses. They smell heavenly and you thank him profusely.

All he can do is smile softly.

He looks and talks like a perfect gentleman. Gibbs even pulls out your chair so you can sit.

He’s almost completely different from work, yet exactly the same. Your mind is spinning in so many different ways as he kisses you for the first time.

But it's not as dizzying as the first time your lips form his first name aloud.

“Jethro.”

Don't you wait for me

Don't you wait for me

8. 

A ray of sunshine shining down on your eyes from between the window blinds make you wake up. You stir, turning away from the window with a groan.

A warm chuckle greets you, and you grumpily peer at him. “It's not funny.”

“No, of course not.”

“Then why did you laugh?”

“Won’t happen again.”

You give Gibbs a small smile, sitting up, gazing at the roses by the window. “They’re my favorite.”

His blue eyes follow your line of sight, and he smiles.

“I know.”

So ashamed, so ashamed

But I need you so

9. 

“Busy.”

“You’re always busy.”

He doesn’t answer you as stare at him. “Oh, so you won’t even answer me?”

You can see his jaw tighten from where you stand, but he doesn’t answer.

“When will you be done?”

“When you stop disobeying my orders!”

Your eyes narrow. “Oh, so this is what its about. Gibbs, I had to. The woman was trapped in her car. If I didn’t dive in after her, she would have drowned!”

“You could have died!” he roars at you suddenly.

His voice is so loud, than all argument dies on your lips. Your eyes fill with tears and you head off back to the bedroom.

Figures, the first fight you have with Gibbs was over work.

And you wait for me

And you wait for me

10. 

Aftermaths were always the hardest part of the job. Whether it was to tell a loved one of a casualty, picking up the pieces of the team, or healing from physical and emotional scars, there was just something about aftermaths that made you feel hollow inside.It’s late. You cry into your pillow, and you hear the door click open. You go quiet.

“[Y/N]?”

You don’t answer. You hear him sigh, standing near you. “I’m sorry, [Y/N]. I was afraid of losing you.”

You sniff. “I know. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

He kisses your temple, and you don’t feel so hollow anymore.

I'm on the road

To who knows where?

11. 

“Beautiful!” exclaims Abby when she sees you. “Gibbs is gonna freak when he sees you.” You laugh, spinning in the white gown in front of the mirror.

“You think so?”

“Think so? I know so!”

You giggle at her enthusiasm, and partly out of nerves for the oncoming wedding. “You ready?”

She nods eagerly and helps you get to your place. Ducky smiles, eyes full of tears, as he wraps an arm around yours. “You look magnificent, my dear.”

“Thanks, Ducky.”

He leads you to the altar where you can see Gibbs’s back. He turns.

You swear this is the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

Look ahead, not behind

I keep saying

12. 

“Are you awake?” you whisper into the dark.

“Yeah,” says the voice beside you.

“Can I say something?”

“Sure.”

“I’m sorry I disobeyed your orders that day.”

You can almost hear him wave his hand dismissively. “Ah, it’s in the past.”

There's no place to go

Where you're not there

13. 

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

Your eyes are wide, staring at the screen. “That’s her?”

He holds your hand, soft. “That’s her, sweetheart. That’s our little girl.”

You stare in awe at the screen, looking at the fluttering on the screen that signifies the heartbeat of the baby growing inside you. “Wow. Ours.”

He kisses your cheek, soft, “Ours.”

On your rope, I hold tight

But it's freeing

14. 

“Administer 20 ccs, stat!”

Doctors rush around you as you groan in pain. “I’m not ready,” you cry out, scared out of your mind.

Gibbs grabs your hand, trying to calm you. “You’re going to be okay, you hear me? We’re going to do this together!”

You gaze at him before your eyes shut.

Then the monitor drops to a high pitched whine with a terrible flat line on the screen.

Everybody wants to be right

But only if it's not daylight?

15. 

Baby cries are what eventually pull you from the darkness. “Is that her? Is that my baby?”

Gibbs is next to you with her in an instant. “Shhh, shhh, see? Mama’s okay. Mama made it through her complications. Its okay, see?”

You stretch out your arms to hold the baby. He gently places her in your arms. Your eyes fill with tears as hers dries, seeming to sense that this was her mother and calming down. You don’t even care about the horrible pain you’re feeling. All that matters was her and your husband, here in this moment.

“She’s perfect.”

Later, when you’re asleep, cradling the baby, Gibbs just stares at the both of you like you’re going to disappear. The most perfect sight before him, and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away. It felt like a dream. He takes a breath as he tries to memorize the scene before him.

His mind can’t even comprehend it. So, while you’re asleep, he whispers,

“It’s the most perfect dream.”

I keep trying to find my way back

My way back

16. 

“Ah...Boss?”

Gibbs’s head snaps up, eyes hazy. “DiNozzo?”

DiNozzo surveys the scene before him, trying hard to keep pity from showing on his face.

The funeral was yesterday.

“Did you go home yesterday?”

Gibbs doesn’t answer. He skims the ground for another bottle of bourbon. There’s one sitting by your tombstone. He picks it up.

“Boss, I-”

“I should have listened to you, DiNozzo.”

DiNozzo’s eyes peer at his boss, clad in crumpled black clothes, hair a mess from the light rain. There are dark shadows under his eyes. “Listened to me?”

Gibbs looks to your headstone. “I should have told her.”

DiNozzo sits beside him, quiet. “I’m sure she knew, to some degree.”

Gibbs’s voice is void of any emotion. “It’s not a fantasy land, Tony.” He sighs, running fingers through his hair. “It’s not some place where I can makeup moments that I want and keep out the ones I do not.” He takes a swig of bourbon. “It’s just cold hard reality.”

Occam’s Razor is defined as a rule used in both science and philosophy that suggests that the more assumptions that are made to reach a conclusion, the more unlikely the explanation will be. The simpler the explanation, the more likely the truth.

Is it as easy as going from point A to point B?

Ah, you assumed, didn’t you? You made assumptions. Too many. Leading to an unlikely result. Tsk, tsk. I told you from the beginning.

Life does not move in a straight line. The answer is simple.

Sometimes there is no line at all. Sometimes, there is a jumble of points, some real, some imaginary-assumptions. A repetition of points, over and over again.

It’s up to you to decide.

(Hint: Please read the first four passages and then read all non italic passages start with B (This is your point B) in sequence (i.e . 1,2,3,4,5,7,9,11,13,15). Then read all the non-italic passages that start with A (This is your point A) in sequence (i.e 1,2,3,4,6,8,10,12,14,16). Please pay extra attention to the last line of each.)

[salexectrian-heir]

Loki: Chapter 8* (NSFW)

Pairing: Solavellan Rating: E* (not every chapter is E, most are rated T. Chapters containing explicit content will be marked with an asterisk* Summary: Lavellan rescued a mischievious sphynx kitten outside her work who loves her dearly. But his destructive habits start to get out of hand when he steals her attractive neighbor’s underwear… repeatedly. [Previous Chapter]      [Read on AO3]

Unfortunately, her focus evaded her at the hospital. She filed four charts in incorrect places (thankfully Dorian caught them in time), spilled soup down the front of her scrub shirt at lunch, and slipped in a puddle of some sort of fluid that had been left unattended to in the hallway. It didn’t smell of urine from what she could tell, but she wasn’t about to go sniffing it. She groaned as she sat up, careful not to touch whatever the wet substance was that brought her down. Her pants though were a lost cause.

“Having a rough day, my dear?”

Her stomach dropped. As if her day couldn’t get any worse. She had been avoiding the Chief of Surgery all morning because of the file mix up, and of course this would be the moment the Chief found her.

“What gave it away,” she asked weakly, looking up to meet the impenetrable stare of Dr. De Fer. To her surprise, the Chief looked slightly amused.

“In my own experience, nothing is more detrimental to a young doctor’s career than a lack of focus.”

The tips of Anise’s ears began to burn. “I apologize Chief, I’m just...off today.”

“I know, darling. This isn’t like you. Take an hour for lunch to collect yourself and your thoughts,” Vivienne drew herself to her full height, eye her speculatively, “and perhaps a fresh set of clothes. When you return please come see me in my office, there is a matter of paramount importance we need to discuss.”

The Chief sauntered out, causing a few of the other staff members down the hall jump back to get out of her way. No one messed with the Iron Lady. The second Vivienne was out of sight, and earshot, Anise groaned and pulled herself off the floor, taking part of the mysterious liquid with her. She peeled the wet clothing from the back of her thighs and did her best not to cry. How in the world was she supposed to make it to the end of her shift in one piece and prepare herself to have The Conversation about the future of her relationship with Solas if the world repeatedly reminding her it was against her?

The sound of wheels creaking drew her attention from her wet pants to the nurse that was scurrying down the hall pushing a mop bucket towards her.

“Awh, shite. Don’t tell me you slipped innit?”

Anise cringed and nodded. “Do I even want to know what it is?”

The nurse shoved her short sandy hair back off her forehead with a rough gesture, “Jus lemonade, I dropped it coming in.” Despite her crass attitude, the woman did appear upset, “Hope you didn’t get hurt.”

“Lemonade is walk in the park.” Anise let out an amused sigh. It was just lemonade, “I’ll be alright. Thanks.”

“Wait, did you think it was piss or something?” The woman snorted, “I can’t believe your not tweakin’ out!” The nurse cackled. “Damn if I knew you weren’t one of them serious docs with a stick up their arse I woulda said something worse.” Her mouth split into a grin. It was infectious. “Maybe I should start a rumor. “The Herald of the OR slipped in ji--”

“Don’t you even dare,” Anise threatened half-heartedly, passing the nurse as she started to mop the mess.

The woman’s continued cackles echoed down the hall as Anise turned the corner. Perhaps she would make it through after all.

She did survive, to her great relief. The rest of her day after her interaction with Sera, she had learned the nurse’s name from Cole--another nurse, who knew everyone and everything about everyone and somehow still didn’t have people to sit with in the cafeteria for lunch--went smoothly. Anise made a mental note to take lunch more often to keep lone nurse company. It appeared they could both use it.

Her meeting with Vivienne was better than she could have imagined. It was not about her filing error--though it was discussed and reprimanded briefly--but about a personal matter of the Chief. Vivienne Vivienne confided in Anise that White Spire Hospital in Orlais was going to have an opening in their Chief of Surgery position, and had invited her to apply--and that she was considering it. It wouldn’t be for another year or two, depending when the current Chief decided to retire, but the application and interviewing process apparently was long and grueling. They wanted Vivienne to apply as early as possible. This news was to be kept between the two of them until Vivienne found out more information about the position and her chances of being selected. Vivienne also mentioned just before she released Anise that if she was selected, and did accept the position, she did not intend to make the transition alone. She would still be keeping her eye on Anise as the White Spire had many fellowship opportunities, including specialized trauma. Anise nearly fainted.

She had a lot to think about regarding her future. This news was something she immediately wanted to share with Solas, but stopped herself from stealing a moment in an on-call room to text him. After last night, she still couldn’t shake the feeling his “considerations” was going to translate as “I can’t date you anymore because I don’t see a future with you”,  and that thought alone was enough to shut her down from sharing this exciting development in her life.

And later at the end of her shift, when she was changing out of her scrubs and into her street clothes, another idea manifested.

Maybe when he says old-fashioned, he truly means that in regards to physical intimacy.

She lightly beat her forehead against her locker. She had been truly an ass last night in the laundry room if that was case. She had just assumed he would be okay with sex and hadn’t even thought about asking him. If that was the conversation they were going to have, she would make sure to start off apologizing for misinterpreting his boundaries. But something in the way he kissed her had her doubting that line of thought. The way he claimed her was raw, passionate, and physical… the insinuations of his tongue left her mind reeling with fantasies. But then again, someone can still believe in not being sexually intimate and still be physically intimate to a certain extent. Neither of them had even brought up the idea of being exclusive, so she again had just assumed he was okay with the loose labels.

He was throwing her for a loop.

By the time she got home, she a mess all over again, mind consumed by what Solas’ considerations were going to be. Her stomach was tying itself into knots. She didn’t want to lose him, and the weight of that realization scared her too. She had several past relationships that she over invested herself in, some which hadn’t been “official” or “labeled” in, some that were healthy, others that were… less so. And one engagement that ended because of a miscarriage.

Her head dropped into her hands.

If he learned this about her, would he leave her? End it?A little voice at the back of her head chided her that he was too good to be true. She was getting ahead of herself. They had to actually decide what they even were first. She ignored the negative thoughts as best she could as she went through motions of getting ready.

Loki lurked around her ankles as she flitted around her apartment, between her bedroom and the bathroom. He held a one sided conversation, meowing and chirping at her sensing her distress. When she finally sat down on her freshly made bed, in her underwear, he jumped up into her lap and headbutted her bicep, purring loudly.

“Hi baby boy,” she cooed, earning her a few scratchy licks to her bare upper arm, “I am at a loss. I don’t know what to wear.”

An undecipherable yowl met her ears.

“I want to look nice, but not like I’m trying too hard,” she answered him, idly stroking the spot between his shoulder blades he liked so much, “I don’t even know what I’m getting into. Gods I suck at dating.”

Loki placed his paws on her chest and pushed himself up, sniffing her chin. His cold little nose bumped the underside of her jaw.

“A dress might be over doing it,” she said, eyeing the teal dress she wore on their first date from the open doors of her closet, “but jeans seem too informal. A skirt maybe…”

She scooped Loki off her lap and dumped him on her pillows. He made an adorable grunt like sound as he hit their soft surfaces. Anise pulled the only two skirts she owned from the closet and laid them out on the bed, one loosely pleated white one that came to about mid thigh and one black empire waisted pencil skirt. . She perused through her limited selection of tops that matched the styles, and finally settled on a very pale pink cropped tank that was stitched with vertical grooves to pair with the white skirt. To finish it off she grabbed the floral printed kimono shawl she had received from her sister-in-law for Wintersend and a pair of nude flats.

“Loki?”

The mewl he gave she took as meow of approval.  

Anise knocked on his door promptly at six. Her nerves fluttered around her ribcage like butterflies trapped in net. Whatever he was cooking was wafting from his apartment, filling the hall with an intoxicating was intoxicating scent, making her mouth water. He answered almost immediately, eyes widening as he took in the sight of her standing before him.

“Hi,” she said meekly, reaching up to smooth a piece of hair behind her ear. She had worn it down tonight.

“Hello Anise,” he greeted, voice leveled and low, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He took a step back and made a sweeping gesture to let her in. He had corner apartment, and was lucky to get more windows than most tennants. Curtains were half drawn to let him some of the dying light from the sunset illuminate the room. His apartment was much different than hers, much more minimalistic in its decor. A black leather couch lined one of the walls that had a coffee table in front of it, with notepads, pens, and other important looking documents spread out over its surface. A brief case laid against one of its legs. A door off to her left was slightly a jar with dim light slipping through the crevice. She could only assume it was his bedroom as there weren’t any other doors to be found. His kitchen opened up into the living room, the two places bleeding into one. A small table was neatly set for two with glasses of wine poured for each, and a fresh cut of crystal grace had been placed in a vase in the center. Tiny candles in little glass jars also adorned the table top, casting flickering shadows that danced across the table cloth and reflected off their glasses. And from the corner of his place, a record was playing. Something with an acoustic guitar and a soft, masculine voice.  It was hopelessly romantic. And she hopelessly loved it. How was she supposed to bring up topics she dreaded when she was surrounded by such magic?

He pulled out her chair with a warm smile, an offer for her sit while he served. Her stomach was doing flips. No one she dated previously had treated her this way. Pulling out chairs? Cooking dinners? Usually that was her job.  It was overwhelming different and yet comfortable simultaneously. She didn’t know what to make of it. To think this might be the first and last chance she ever had with him made her heart ache.

“How was your day?”

His question was so innocent, so domestic, so genuine in the way he voiced it that the fragile wall, the one she had spent all day amassing to keep him out until she had uncovered his considerations, came crumbling down. Caving against her will, she let out all her frustrations, including the embarrassing fall and the confrontation with her Chief.

“What did Dr. De Fer want to speak with you about?”

He placed a delectable plate of salmon and roasted vegetables over a fresh bed of salad before her, and her mouth stopped working as she stared down at it. After a beat she realized she was gaping and not speaking.

“Oh,” she said, quickly meeting his eyes. He was smirking. “She shared with me some great news, actually.”

“Which was?”

“The White Spire has invited her to apply as their Chief of Surgery.”

His eyes went wide. “That is quite an honor.”

“That’s an understatement,” she said with a laugh, waiting for him to take a seat with his own plate before picking up her knife and fork, “she was ecstatic of course. She wanted to know what my thoughts on the position were, and if given the opportunity, if I would follow her there essentially..”

“That is amazing, Anise.”

As she glanced over the table at him, she noticed the gleam in his eyes. He was proud of her. The butterflies steadily grew more restless in her breast as the tension between them heightened.

“It would be the chance of life time honestly,” she said, averting her eyes as she blushed, and took bite of the fish. It took all her self-control not to moan as it melted in her mouth.

“Gods, Solas this is incredible,” she praised, covering her mouth with her hand as she spoke with a mouthful as not to be rude.

His mouth pulled into a crooked smile. “Most Arlathan recipes are.”

She playfully rolled her eyes. “I should have guessed. How was your day by the way?”

He filled her in on the paperwork he had been attending to for Evacorp as they ate. He spent his time editing new clinical trial confidentiality and consent forms as a favor to a coworker. It sounded tedious and boring and too much like he was being being taken advantage of. Someone else’s paperwork was not something he should have had to do on his day off. His demeanor even shifted while he was talking about his work, even in his body language as he excused himself to flip the record.  It aged him in some regard, the light in his eyes diminishing and his mouth perpetually pulled into a frown as he spoke of the board of directors and how important it was to get this project done before its deadline. She wanted to bring back some life into him, wanted to chase away that gloom that seemed to perpetually cling to him, one he brought back after every flight.

“Solas,” she said interrupting him, reaching a hand across the table to lay upon his, “you don’t seem very happy in this position. Why don’t you change jobs?”

He contemplated her words, selecting his own carefully. “It’s….complicated.”

“Complicated like us?”

The words left her before she could censor them, and the tension that had been simmering between them spiked. She had meant it as a lighthearted joke, an easy way to segue into what needed to be brought up… but his reaction told her he did not take it that way.

He withdrew his hand from hers and stood abruptly, collecting the things at his place and hers. “It’s difficult to explain,” he said quietly, before walking back into the kitchen to scrape their plates.

She followed, taking the napkin off her lap and tossing it into the trash on her way.

“Solas,” said apologetically, tugging gently on his elbow to get his attention, “please, tell me. Let me in.”

This was it. The moment she had been worrying about all fucking day.

“Anise, getting to know you and spend time with you has been wonderful.” He set the dishes in the sink. “The way I feel about you, I have not felt in years,” his his lips twitched into a sad smile, “You are more than I deserve.” He raised his hand as if to touch her cheek, but then thought better of it and retracted at the last second.

His words flooded her heart, filling it with such pressure she feared she might burst. Her fingers curled tighter around his arm as her heart rate sped up. “But?”

“But,” he echoed, peeling away her grip. He stared down where he held her hand, lips pursed and brows knotted. The silence cut her like scalpel, incision digging too deep. And then a new thought came to her. One that morphed all her earlier fears into one.

“But you don’t want to have to choose between your job and a relationship.” Her voice sounded very small as it left her. “Getting physical in our relationship more seriously would only make it that much more difficult to end.”

He held her gaze. “My job would be an obstacle in the relationship, as much as yours would. We’ve managed to live around them but eventually… we’d want something more stable, consistent. It would be something we could face together if…. I digress.” He shook his head and released her hand, tucking his own behind his back. “That is not my reason for my hesitancy. You deserve someone closer to your own age. To share in the experiences that come with being young, not someone jaded by time... ” he trailed off.

Her mind raced. His age? Sure, he was older...but what difference did that make when she was approaching thirty herself?

“I don’t understand..?”

“Anise,” he shifted his weight, “I am twelve years older than you. I have little to offer you that hasn’t been spoiled already. I am afraid it will bother you. I don’t want to start something and progress further if you’ll regret being with--”

She pressed a finger to his lips. His eyes widened in surprise.

He thinks he’s damaged...

“Solas, ask me how I feel about your age.”

“Anise, I--”

“Ask me how I feel.”

He closed his eyes with a sigh and leaned into her touch. “How do you feel… about my age?”

“It does not bother me in the slightest,” she said reassuringly, taking a small step closer to him, “In fact, I… I find it charming.” She felt the blood rush to her face at her confession. Now reflecting on the gap...she realized she liked it… found it attractive even. She dropped her hand and her gaze. “For once, I actually feel comfortable enough to let someone take care of me, I’m so used to being the responsible one. And maybe it is because you’ve had more time to figure out what you want in a relationship that makes you better at it, or at least to me…”

Two fingers pressed against her chin, making her tilt her head up at him. What she saw in his searching eyes made her heart burst, sending a cascade of fire through her veins.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” she matched his low whisper, “I’ve already made my decision. I’m in this, fully.” She leaned into him, running a hand up his chest. “I’m here, I’m ready. I’m willing. If you are…”

He cupped her face. “I am.”

They stood transfixed in that moment, their decision made and hanging in the silence between them.

“Then prove it.” Anise swallowed. “Kiss me.”

All the pent up frustration and tension she had rattling inside her melted away once his lips touched her own. It was gentle, questioning. He lingered, unwilling to break it but not pressing forward. She could tell by the way he held his body he was holding back.  

“Like you mean it,” she breathed against his skin.

At that, he pulled away slightly. His grip on her chin forced her to look up into his smoldering, heavy lidded gaze. His brow arched as he stepped forward, making her step back. A whole new sensation overwhelmed her senses, a liquid kind of heat that spilled down her spine, and pooling lower still in her belly. She suddenly felt too hot, as is she were on fire but not quite ablaze. The tips of her ears burned as he continued to look at her that way. A dull ache began to throb between her thighs as his other hand glided up her hip, guiding her back further still. Her back hit the counter and she breathed in sharply. He chose that moment to advance, surging down and claiming her like he did on the night of Wintersend. His hand slipped around her thigh, hitching it around his hip to lift her up onto the edge of the counter’s surface. She took in all of him, breathed him in as she parted her lips to run her tongue along the seam of his mouth, diving in when he let her pass. Her fingers curling into the sweater she knit as he deepened their kiss.

A whimper escaped when his mouth broke their rhythm and left hers to explore, as did his hands. His breath spilled over the exposed expanse of her throat, hot and heavy leaving searing wet kisses on every inch he could find as he dragged his hands up her thighs, pushing up the fabric of her skirt. Fingertips danced over the soft skin of her legs spreading them slowly before they shifted downwards to caress her inner thigh She didn’t even try to stifle the shudder it coaxed.

Her stomach clenched, as did the rest of her body, as his fingers reached the barrier of damp lace that was her underwear.

“If this,” he traced the edge of her thong before hooking his index finger through it, “is something you want, I will give it willingly.”

“Yes. ” The word tumbled from her lips in a rush as she gripped his shoulder.

He chuckled so softly that she felt it vibrate against her more than she actually heard it.

“I do believe you owe me a pair for how many your kitten has taken from me.”

She gasped as he pulled,sliding the pair she was wearing down her legs, off her knees and let them fall past her ankles.

“I’ll collect my prize later,” he murmured against her cheek, pressing insistent kisses along her jaw, “come with me.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist and slid her arms around his neck as he picked her up. She felt the thong fall of her foot onto the kitchen floor, but she immediately let it slip from her mind as she had more, pressing, things to focus on. Such as the size of the welcomed hardness she felt against her as she clung to him.

Creators, she was going to ache tomorrow.

He led her to the bedroom, eyes locked on her. She couldn’t break his hold, it completely entranced her. How he managed to seize her so wholly with a simple stare was beyond her. And honestly she couldn’t care how easy she fell prey to him at this point. This confidence of his, this intimate side of him, was incredibly sexy and it had been oh so worth the wait.

She shed him of the wintersend gift once they reached his bed, tossing the sweater somewhere out of reach, followed by the undershirt he had donned beneath it so she could finally drink in the sight of him, bare chested before her. His gaze lost a fraction of its intensity the longer she stared, hands ghosting across the surface of his body without actually touching him. He was in good shape, no doubt about that, but he had softer lines whereas a younger man might have been more defined. She found it so much more overwhelming attractive. She wanted to trace every dip, indentation, and crease with the tip of her tongue..

It dawned her there was no reason for her not to.

Tuckin her legs beneath her to kneel, she reached for him and splayed her fingers across his torso. She leaned in, kissing each freckle she saw dotted on his skin, tongue gliding across the surface of his abdomen, tracing grooves she found that had been softened with age. His breath hitched as she reached his navel and her fingers found the button, and zipper of his slacks.

If he was allowed to tease her...

His pants hit the floor.

“Your underwear looks so much better with you filling them out,” she murmured, lips pressed  lightly over the swell in his briefs and laid a chaste kiss there. His fingers twisted in her hair reflexively.

“Ani--”

Her name turned into moan as she tugged the fabric down, exposing him fully. She wasted no time dragging her tongue along the length of his cock from base to tip before taking him entirely into her mouth. It wasn’t long after she her mouth and hand had settled into a steady rhythm that his hips began to buck in tandem, and a small curse of praise fell down to her ears.  

Suddenly he was pulling her off him and being shifted up the bed, shedding the rest of her clothes as they went. His mouth collided with hers as soon as she had settled back against his pillows. They felt like clouds wrapped in silk against the bare skin of her back, drowning her in the illusion that she was floating despite the pressure of his body pressed to her. She was all too aware of the weight of his cock as it laid on her inner thigh, hard and thick. A jolt of pleasure coursed through her like live current as his fingers dove between her thighs and found her clit, working her so easily up to the point the throbbing in her core was inescapable and all consuming. And when his slender fingers slipped inside her, she let him know just how pleasurable it was, unable to refrain from being silent--or still-- any longer. When her whimpers turned into pleas, he finally withdrew from her and reached to the nightstand drawer to their left and dug through it. He found what he was looking for, and heard the crinkle of a wrapper being ripped a few seconds later. She didn’t think her heart rate could have scaled any higher, but it did. After the condom was rolled on, he coaxed her open and settled between her legs, pausing to catch her gaze, the question was written all over his face. Are you sure?

Before he could even ask, she nodded and said, “Take me.”

With an effortless movement, he thrust up and in. She made a lewd sound at the sensation of being filled so fully, the ache of being stretched in ways she hadn’t in so long. He was gentle at first, the rock of his hips slow and measured as he pulled out watching her reaction. Each thrust forward carefully pressed. It was a tender thing, really, what was transpiring between them. One of his hands slid into hers and she clasped their fingers together just above her head in the sheets. The other found a home cupping her cheek. His face was so expressive, no longer held back by a rigid composure she was sure he kept up for appearances. She wanted to trace the emotion she found there with a finger tip, but that would mean relinquishing her grip on his shoulder and she wasn’t about to let go of him, not now, not ever.

The gradual, intimate pace changed when she started canting her hips into his rhythm. She still ached but it had grown into a satisfying one. An ache she realized she wanted--no, needed--more of. His thumb caressed her lower lip as he grinded into her. She met each vigorous thrust with a subtle roll of her hips, angling him deeper to hit that one spot…

She gasped when he did, ragged and high pitched as she arched into him. With one simple movement he had managed to make the muscles in her core pull taut. The sensation causing her nails to dig into the blades of his shoulders. His thrusts faltered at her exclamation.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she said in a breathless moan, freeing their entwined hands to grip his hip, to coax him further. Harder.

The pace they set after could only be described as desperate, her body writhed under his relentless devotion, coiling tighter and tighter. Each of his thrusts fell faster, rougher, deeper until it became all too much. What had started as a groan at the back of his throat erupted into a harsh cry as he came, crashing into her. The last few erratic rolls of his hips coupled with the sound of his climax and the deft fingers that suddenly caressed her clit finished her off, setting her free to ride several tidal waves of ecstasy.

They collapsed in a blissful heap, limbs entangled and chests heaving, neither making an effort to move for several minutes. She curled her fingers around the base of his neck and nuzzled her nose long his jawline, savoring the way the rapid beat of his heart pulsed in time with hers. He hummed something against her forehead, elven she thought, too dazed and thoroughly fucked to actually comprehend anything at this point. Chaste kisses were being placed along the crown her head, her temples, and eventually down the bridge of her nose.

She gazed up at him through half-lidded eyes and smiled up lazily at him. “You know,” she said quietly, “for a brief time I was a little nervous that when you mentioned being old-fashioned…” she trailed off heat crept down the back of her neck, suddenly embarrassed at her assumption.

“That I would be opposed to sex?” The question was laced with mirth that reflected in his eyes as he pulled himself up to gaze down at her. The soft laugh that escaped him turned into snort, and something in her twisted pleasantly at the sound. “I’m not that old fashioned.”

The flat look she was trying to give him was ruined by the smile that broke across her mouth. “Solas, you haven’t let me pay for any of the dates we’ve gone on, you open car doors for me, you--”

Her words were swallowed up by another kiss, and the subsequent giggle too. She could feel him smiling through the motion and it tugged at her heart in all the right ways. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he sat up, taking her with him.

“You are going to have to let me  indulge you everyone once in a while,” he murmured against her mouth, “please.”

“I’ll take it into... consideration,” she teased, nipping at his lower lip.

At that, he chuckled exasperatedly and shook his head. “You would.”

[summysparklesprocket]

Character Sheet: Summy

Character Chart

Character’s Full Name:  Summy Sparklesprocket

Reason or Meaning of Name: Honestly it was something that I used from Sumffin, which is the non-RP character IGN. Was a joke between my irl brother and I.

Character’s Nickname/Alias: Sums

Reason for Nickname/Alias: Bennas just shortened her name to Sums on occasion, but for the most part she’s just Summy. ( @theodorebennas )

Birth Date: May 10th

Physical appearance

Age:  52

How old does he/she appear: Upper 20′s Lower 30′s

Weight: 30 pounds. (Gnomes are light)

Height: 2′6″

Body build: Petite

Shape of face: Round 

Eye color: Light Blue

Glasses or contacts: Neither

Skin tone: Pale

Distinguishing marks: Lots of scars. Some of them have been healed away, and some are being hidden with illusion magic and make-up. They are there though. One that is always visible when her shirt is off is a scar right on her belly from a crossbolt. It an X shaped scar caused by when they were removing it.

Predominant features: Her eyes and hair match and she tries to color coordinate her clothing on occasion with it.

Hair color: Light Blue, same as her eyes.

Type of hair:  Wavey and long, outside of the pony-tail it’s probably about to her butt, maybe a bit longer.

Hairstyle:  Pony-tail. It’s always in a pony-tail except when she’s in her apartment.  

Voice:  High and squeaky.

Overall Attractiveness: For a gnome, if she didn’t exercise more than a normal mage about average or slightly above average. Since she does work out a lot between tinkering and military, above average. 

Physical Disabilities: None. Despite all her injuries, she actually hasn’t gained any physical disabilities yet. 

Usual Fashion of Dress: Casual clothing or robes. She doesn’t really care about what she wears, but the gnome who designs her robes goes all out. (I’ll forget, but the one who designs them is @integrabrenagh‘s gnome. Yes. For those who know her, Faye is a tailor, and a damn good one.)

Favorite Outfit: Black pants that are similar to yoga pants, skin tight and really don’t hide anything, but are super comfortable and a light blue vest she doesn’t wear in public anymore because she had a lot of creeps hit on her. (I lost the vest is the real reason. I’ll find it again one day)

Jewelry or Accessories: She doesn’t wear too much jewelry. She may wear a random ring or some earings on occasion, but she hasn’t cared too much about it aside from one she’ll quietly wear cause it looks pretty.

Personality

Good Personality Traits: She’s intelligent, and sociable. Unlike the mun on occasion, she’s not afraid to go up to and start talking to people randomly despite having never met them. She also doesn’t have shame, so she’s not afraid to ask normally embarressing questions, or make lewd jokes in public. On the other hand, she tries to be aware of her surroundings and what she’s doing. Including if someone is getting more embarressed and angry than what she meant.

Bad Personality Traits: She can occasionally take things too far. Whether that’s someone getting embarressed or angry or whatever, she can take jokes too far without noticing. On the other hand, despite what she shows outwardly, she really doesn’t trust herself a lot and when she gets in private she overthinks. She’s constantly worried that she’ll go back to how she was in the past and will get mean and rude and hurt people. 

Mood Character is Most Often In: At the moment happy.

Sense of Humor: Lewd humor, puns, and physical humor. She makes all kinds of jokes.

Character’s Greatest Joy In Life: Making her friends and loved ones laugh.

Character’s Greatest Fear: Causing her friends and loved ones pain.

What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil?  Her being the reason a friend of loved one was killed or caused immense emotional, mental, or physical pain. I’m unsure if she could forgive herself.

Character Is Most at Ease When: She’s tinkering, or either at the Bennas estate Summerfast (I think) or with Pin and/or Leon. ( @darbiebot @mremaknu )

Most Ill at Ease When: Those who she cares about are upset with her for legitimate reasons.

Enraged When: People ignore her, think she’s dumb, or is invalid or similar things. Also short jokes. Those who are closest to her can make short jokes, but the list is super short.

Depressed or Sad When: She thinks she messed up, or when her brain goes back to her past or certain events in the past. Slight PTSD kinda thing. 

Life Philosophy: “No need to be so serious all the time. Gotta let go and have fun.” There really isn’t a specific philosophy, but this is the closest one she’s got.

If Granted One Wish, It Would Be:  World peace. Okay not really. I honestly don’t know, because she doesn’t know. The closest thing is she wishes she could fix some mistakes in the past, but she doesn’t know how things would change if she could. So she has no idea. 

Character’s Soft Spot:  Julliette and Theodore Bennas, and Pin.

Is This Soft Spot Obvious to Others?  I don’t think so. She doesn’t worry about them because they’re all able to take care of themselves.

Greatest Strength: Her intellect/creativity, and her ability to talk and be friends with anyone.

Greatest Vulnerability or Weakness: She questions herself a lot more than she lets on. She just hides it by being confident in civilian settings. She has trouble trusting herself in more serious matters, but she knows how to hide it.

Biggest Regret:  Letting herself become corrupt without noticing.

Minor Regret:  Unsure of this one at the moment.

Biggest Accomplishment: Becoming as knowledgeable at tinkering as she has. Mastering frost and fire magic as much as she has. 

Minor Accomplishment: Getting to the rank of Major in the Military.

Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: She still occasionally has spells blow up in her face because she’ll screw up, or she’ll just mess up the spell and nothing will happen. Most of the time her fellow soldiers will not notice, but it’s still embarressing.

Character’s Darkest Secret:  She’s tortured innocent people to death and insanity. 

Does Anyone Else Know? Her superiors in the Vanguard. And two people who were there when it was happening. Outside of those people. Nope.

Goals

Drives and Motivations: Try to distract herself and forget what was explained above and a few other things. 

Immediate Goals: Figure out Azerite uses. Hope the Alliance doesn’t go to war with the Horde, but she knows it’s gonna happen.

Long Term Goals: Currently she doesn’t really have one aside from spend time with friends and loved ones cause of the upcoming war. She’ll be trying to get people to stop the pointless war when it starts.

How the character plans to accomplish these goals: Magic, talking to people, condemning those who are war hungry through whatever means possible.

How Other Characters Will Be Affected:  Some will die (NPC’s), some will be annoyed/angry with her, some will be better off. 

Past

Hometown: Gnomeregan

Type of Childhood: Abusive. Educated. Fleeing

Pets: None.

First Memory: Something sad involving her parents being assholes

Most Important Childhood Memory: Tied between a particularly brutal night that ended with her fleeing into the night, and when she discovered she had a knack for the arcane.

Childhood Hero:  The Guardians of Tirisfal. Medivh, before him Aegwynn.

Dream Job: Where she is right now she’s happy with. She eventually wants to do a job involving tinkering, but she’s in no rush for it.

Education: PH.D 

Religion: None.

Finances: As a child, her parents were middle class, but she tried to avoid them and did her own thing. So she was poor for awhile, but then joined the Kirin Tor.

Present

Current Location: Stormwind or Elwynn most of the time

Currently Living With: She has an apartment in Stormwind, a permanent room at the Bennas Estate of Summerfast (I think that’s the name), and likely could stay at her girlfriend’s place whenever she wanted.

Pets:  An Owl-kitten that she hasn’t named yet

Religion: None

Occupation:  Military. Tinker. 

Finances: Lower part of Upper Class

Family

Siblings: A Brother

Relationship With Them: Good

Spouse: Pin Peppercog (girlfriend, not married)

Relationship With Them: Really good.

Children: none.

Relationship With Them: none

Other Important Family Members:  none

Favorites

Color: Light Blue

Least Favorite Color: None

Music: Hard Rock/Metal

Food: Steak.

Literature: Everything.

Form of Entertainment: Spending time with Pin and Leon, tinkering, hanging out at the Bennas estate.

Expressions: Laughter, or annoyance if they’re annoyed at her shenanigans

Mode of Transportation: Fidget spinner mage disc or Portal.

Most Prized Possession: The Owl Kitten.

Habits

Hobbies: Tinkering.

Plays a musical instrument? Nope

Plays a sport? Nope

How he would spend a rainy day? Magical research, tinkering, reading whatever, walk around in the rain and not care.

Spending Habits: About average. She doesn’t need a lot that she doesn’t already have access to.

Smokes: Occasionally.

Drinks: Rarely

Other Drugs: Rarely

What does he/she do too much of? Annoying people. Working, whether it be military based, tinkering, or research.

What does he/she do too little of? Sleep. Eat when she’s focused on a certain project or work (she forgets).

Extremely Skilled At: The arcane, tinkering, reading (girl can read at some stupid speeds), research.

Extremely Unskilled At: Cooking. Taking care of herself in the normal sense. 

Nervous Tics: Slight eye squint, looking around more often.

Usual Body Posture: Standing straight. 

Mannerisms: Happy, smiling (at least when most people see her)

Peculiarities: Darting eyes. Constantly on alert.

Traits

Optimist or Pessimist? Mix of the two.

Introvert or Extrovert? Extrovert

Daredevil or Cautious? Daredevil

Logical or Emotional? Logical

Disorderly and Messy or Methodical and Neat? Methodical and Neat most of the time, but when she tunnels on something she can get messy.

Prefers Working or Relaxing? Working

Confident or Unsure of Himself?  Both. Depends on a few things.

Animal lover? Yeah.

Self-perception

How She Feels About Herself: Outwardly appears confident, inwardly doesn’t trust herself.

One Word Character Would Use To Describe Themselves: Smart

Paragraph Description on How They’d Describe Themselves: “A little gnome who knows the arcane and can tinker well. A gnome who knows how to gather information and how to mislead people. I’m not that good at this.”

What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? Her intellect and creativity.

What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? Her recklessness.

What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? Her behind. She works hard on it. 

What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? Her stumpy legs. 

How does the character think others perceive him/her? Logically, she knows most people like her. Emotionally, she occasionally thinks that everyone hates her despite knowing it’s not true. 

What would the character most like to change about himself/herself? More trust in herself.

Relationships with others

Opinion of Other People in General: Mixed opinion of people in general.

Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Yup.

Person Character Most Hates: At the moment she doesn’t really hate anyone that much. The person that it’s like to develop into is Percival Thalsian.

Best friend(s): Theodore Bennas, Julliette Bennas, Josamin Ravenscäl

Love interest(s): Pin Peppercog

Person Character (Would) Go to For Advice: Theodore Bennas most likely.

Person Character Feels Responsible For: No one at the moment cause those who she would she knows that they can take care of themselves, so she doesn’t bother.

Person Character Feels Awkward Around: It’s uncommon that she feels awkward.

Person Character Openly Admires: Integra Brenagh

Person Character Secretly Admires: Leon Ambroce

Tagged by: @thalsianiii

Tagging: @theodorebennas, @juliette-bennas, @pinpep, @mremaknu, @wardennerd, @malien-moonray, @ithaerielbrenagh, @risrielthron, @kat-hawke, @murkeyglglgl, @vordasblackspire, @wraithclaw

[misssophiachase]

Mini drabble prompt Klaus being under anaesthesia HEAVILY flirts with his doctor, who happens to be caroline

Oooh love it….thank youluv! What is it with me not understanding the concept of a mini-drabble hehe.This is longer than expected, hope you like it!

Love Potion Number Nine

Klaus…..

“Well hello there, who areyou love?” Klaus asked, pairing his question with a low growl of approval. Hewas pretty sure he was horizontal and minimally clothed but that was about it.The room was dimly lit and decidedly blurry for whatever reason but he couldn’tmistake the beautiful blonde looking curiously into his eyes. 

She didn’t respond, justrested her palm on his face and held his drooping eye open. “No need to beshy, you’re extremely attractive, sweetheart.”

It was obvious she wantedhim by the way she was touching him so intimately, Klaus wasn’t surprised givenhis impressive prowess with women. “Can’t help yourself huh? I know I’mirresistible.” 

Even in his drowsy statehe noted a slight roll of those expressive blue eyes before she shone a brightlight into his right eye. Was she taking photos of him?

“Kinky,” he chuckled asanother flash of light entered his left eye. If this was the way she wanted toplay it then Klaus was up for the challenge. 

“His vitals are fine,” shefinally spoke, his pupils recovering from the shock and beginning to dilate,desperate to get another look at her. 

“Are you sure?” He asked,thinking that the stirring down below wasn’t fine and needed a littlecare. “Between you and me, I have an itch that needs to be scratched if youknow what I mean…”

“Nurse,” she barked, notbothering to return his gaze or his comment. “Get lover boy up torecovery, there’s only so much crap I can deal with during a nineteen hourshift.”

Caroline…

He wasn’t the firstpatient to hit on her, before or after surgery, but he was certainly the mostattractive. The fact he could make the drab, hospital gown look sexy was nomean feat. That accent was a whole other story.

She perused his chart, forofficial purposes of course, each tiny detail of information standing out morethan usual. 

Niklaus Mikaelson. 

Male. 

Thirty-three. 

Single. 

The last detail wasn’toverly difficult to digest. Although, she was fairly certain his relationshipstatus had something to do with those woeful lines he was giving her, even if he was under anaesthesia.

“How’s Mr Sexy Appendix?”Kat asked, surprising her so much she dropped his chart on the floor. Theclattering noise echoing throughout the corridor. 

“He’s actually now withoutappendix,” she muttered. “Why do you insist on naming all the patientsanyway?”

“It’s the only thing thatwill get me through this never ending shift,” she drawled.  They werefourth year surgical interns at Northwestern Memorial and even though it wasroutine, the long shifts were the worst part. “And I’ve never seen a guy rock asurgical gown like that.” Caroline felt her cheeks flush knowing she’d had theexact same thoughts earlier. “Although, I did notice his brother in thatsuit in the waiting room so it’s obviously hereditary.”

Caroline shouldn’t havebeen surprised given Kat’s penchant for gossip but how in the hell she’dgathered so much information while tending to patients in the ER was trulyimpressive. 

“Forbes! Pierce!” She knewthat sound all too well. In fact it was the second English accent she’d beenexposed to all night. She turned around knowing that theirResident Enzo hadn’t had nearly enough caffeine today. “Why is it thatevery time I turn around you two are gossiping like you’re at a mother’smeeting?”

“Mother’s meeting?”Katherine exclaimed, unable to help herself. “I’ll have you know that I moisturise four times aday, my skin is as smooth as a baby’s butt…”

“Oh spare me, Pierce,”their supervisor scoffed. “The day I care about your skincare routine isthe day the world ends. Forbes, we need to talk about your patient.” He waswalking away as he said it, Caroline giving her friend a brief shrug beforerushing to catch up with his long strides.

“Do you mean Mr Sex…”she trailed off noting his slightly amused expression, inwardly cursing Kat forputting that name in her head. “I mean Mr Mikaelson?”

“Yes, how’s hisprognosis?”

“Besides hitting on me inpost-op, his vitals are normal and is going to make a full recovery,” she joked, hoping to lighten his stormy mood.

“My brother-in-law neverfails to disappoint.” She felt her heart stop, a myriad of thoughts explodingin her mind. The biggest one being that her patient was also her supervisor’sbrother-in-law and she had no idea how to handle it or the fact she’d just insultedhim. “Let’s check up on the cranky bastard, shall we?” 

Klaus…

“Tell me more about those psychedelic,pink dinousaurs, Nik,” his brother Kol teased from next to his bed. He chose thatmoment to use every ounce of available strength to push him off the chair by surprise.

“Hey!” He grumbled fromthe floor. At least something good had happened today after all. 

Klaus didn’t do surgery,in fact he remembered insisting they take him home the night before. Klausfigured he could live with his siblings, so a ruptured appendix was nothing.They thought differently. He didn’t remember much atall, except a stunning blonde standing over him. He couldn’t recall theconversation but those blue eyes were burned into his soul.  

“I specifically rememberasking you to take me home?”

“Excuse us for letting youlive, Niklaus,” Elijah muttered, still immaculate even after hours holed up in the hospital waiting room.

“Especially given we wantto kill you most days,” Rebekah added, not bothering to lift her gaze as shefiled her nails in the corner. “My husband may choose to spend his days in this‘godforsaken place’ as you like to call it, but there are many other things I’drather be doing than babysit your grumpy ass.”

“Nice to see we’re allplaying nice as usual children,” Enzo interrupted, Caroline following behind meekly. Klausnoted that given the look on her face, she was wishing she was anywhere butthere right now. 

“This is Caroline Forbes,my surgical intern. “She tells me surgery went well, although given you’restill alive Niklaus, I beg to differ from that assessment.”

“Haven’t you heard ofbedside manner, Lorenzo?” Klaus mumbled, trying to be his snappy self butgrowing decidedly off balance by the beauty from his dream who was now at his bedside and watching him intently. 

“What are you waiting for, Forbes?” Enzo ordered, breaking the tense gaze between them. Klaus watched asshe fumbled slightly before removing the stethoscope from around that creamy,delectable neck.

“I need to check yourheart rate,” she explained. Klaus was fairly certain it had skyrocketed in thepast two minutes. How someone could look so beautiful dressed in scrubs withher blonde hair piled onto her head was a mystery. He decided to put it down tothe fact that shade of blue brought out those eyes.

He stilled, unsure of howto act in this situation. He mostly resented doctors who insisted on examininghim closely but for once he wasn’t complaining. Before he knew it, her warmhands were making their way into the open side of his unflattering gown. He felt theheat rush through him from her simple touch coursing through his body including down to his burgeoning arousal. Luckily the blankets were covering himotherwise this would be bloody embarrassing given his siblings were allwatching on in unusual interest.

He shivered, feeling the cool touch ofthe stethoscope on his back, glad to have some relief from the heat. “Breathe,”she murmured, her breath ticking the stray curl at the back of his neck andsuddenly he was more aroused than ever.

He closed his eyes,determined not to show his real emotions to his nosy siblings, wishing it wasjust them. Not only because he wanted to rip off those scrubs but because he wanted to know just who Caroline Forbes was.

The examination was oversooner than he expected and Klaus had to admit he felt immediately cold without her touch. It was sometime during the night when he noticed a sliver of light filter through the room and her lithe figure creep inside. He watched her silently, his eyes following her path to the chart at the end of his bed. The small amount of light catching her adorable expression as she chewed her bottom lip while reading it intently. 

“I didn’t think I was that interesting,” she froze, obviously surprised by his comment in the darkened room. 

“I’m just adding some notes,” she said, managing to regain her composure although he could make out her cheeks were slightly flushed. 

“Oh really?”

“Yes, I think it’s important the other doctors know you have a tendency to flirt shamelessly, even under anaesthesia.”

Suddenly he felt bad and slightly embarrassed. What in the hell had he said? No wonder things had been weird before. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” The silence was thick as he waited impatiently for her reply.  

“It would take a lot to make me uncomfortable, you’re just lucky I didn’t punch you out.” He found himself smiling unable to control the goofy grin on his face.

“What stopped you?”

“I figured my license to practice medicine was more important than messing up that pretty face.”

“You think I have a pretty face?”

“In this amount of darkness anything is pretty, Mr Miikaelson,” she uttered, obviously trying to cover for her slip before placing the clipboard back in place. “And you really need to get some rest before they discharge you in the morning.”

“I assume bedtime stories aren’t on offer then?”

“Not if you want to keep that pretty face intact.”

He was restless the rest of thatnight, mostly because the on-duty nurse told him she’d left. When Rebekah cameto get him she still hadn’t returned and his desperation had reached new heights.

He found the chart at the end of his bed, the one he noticed she perused quite frequently. Scribbling his mobile number on the blank space he knew it was a long shot but he needed to see her again. 

Caroline…

She’d been restless, Caroline put it down to her erratic working schedule but given the insomnia persisted she had to admit it was something else. Or someone else. 

People had different reactions under anaesthesia, she knew that, and could forgive him his rather blatant attempts to seduce her post-op but after she’d spoken with him, Caroline was confused. He was a flirt for sure but there was also an underlying sense of insecurity. 

Her phone buzzed, Caroline noting Kat’s familiar head shot. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m watching TV.”

“BORING….Come meet me at Hellenic.” Caroline could just imagine her pouting as she wrote it.  

“But I’m so comfy.”

“Get out of those dreaded sweats and into that little, black number and come for a drink.” Caroline groaned knowing she would continue to message if she said no.

She threw off the blanket and headed towards the shower. Fast forward ninety minutes and she was teetering on her highest heels upon entering the newest bar in town. She searched the room for Kat, her eyes falling onto a very familiar ex-patient. He raised his glass in her direction and she knew she’d been had. 

Making her way towards him at the bar, the exaggerated sway of her hips not on purpose at all, she gave him a pensive look complete with raised eyebrows. 

“You’re resorting to imitating my friends to get a date now?” He smiled, those rogue dimples disarming her slightly. 

“I left my number on my patient chart but turns out your friend found it instead. I needed to see you.” 

“And what was so urgent? I’m not going to sleep with you after an operation or now,” she shot back, thinking it wouldn’t be an altogether bad experience. 

“Ouch,” he groaned. “Way to shut a guy down but lucky I’m persistent. Katherine told me you’d been hurt before. Funnily enough we share a few similarities.”  

“Oh really?”

“Really,” he smiled tentatively. “Take a chance, Caroline.” Maybe it was his earnest gaze or the way her name sounded rolling off his tongue but she couldn’t resist, taking a seat.

Fast forward three months and Caroline and her former patient were closer than ever. Their first meeting story was always a highlight for their friends and Katherine liked to take credit for their union. She’d also managed to snag his elder, suit-clad brother in the process. 

The only awkward part was Enzo. She tasked Klaus with the responsibility of breaking it to his brother-in-law and her supervisor unsure of just how he’d take it. Hopefully well given she was falling in love with Mr Sexy Appendix every day. 

[inawickedlittletown]

Walking The Wire (38/?)

Summary: Tony Stark always knew about Peter Parker. He didn’t know that Peter was going to get superpowers and become Spider-Man, but he always knew about Peter because Peter was his son.

This will span from pre-Iron Man up through the rest of the MCU (eventually including Infinity War) and will be for the most part canon compliant except where I’ve taken some liberties and interpreted canon a certain way.

Pairings: Pepper/Tony, Tony/Steve (endgame), Tony/Mary (past)

A/N: If you want me to tag you when I post new chapters let me know. This fic is also on AO3

I used Collider’s MCU timeline to stay canon and the title of this fic is an Imagine Dragons song that is just so fitting for Peter and Tony

Masterpost

Chapter Thirty Seven

Tony was freaking out. Seeing Peter for the first time in person had been nothing short of amazing. He couldn’t believe that this boy who was only just shy of his height and who looked all lean and skinny was his son. Having him in front of him made Tony wonder if Peter was actually Spider-Man. He was just so little.

After getting him alone, Tony didn’t know what to say so he started looking through Peter’s things instead. Out in the living room there had been pictures to look at. Peter looking much younger with May and Ben. A picture of Mary and the man that Tony supposed was Richard. Inside Peter’s room there were no pictures out or hung on the walls. Instead there were other things.

He had a lot of old tech on his desk and books including the ones Tony had sent him about spiders and a mess of other junk that Peter seemed to be fixing up. It made Tony just a little bit proud because Tony had been the same at MIT and even before hand. But this wasn’t why he was here. Aside from a few odds and ends, Peter seemed to have the room of a regular teenager. Tony would never have suspected that he was Spider-Man and yet he was.

“So,” Tony said.

“I didn’t know you were doing a scholarship thing with the September Foundation,” Peter said. He was standing just inside the room, looking oddly like he didn’t know if he should be there in his own bedroom.

“I’m not,” Tony said and stared at Peter who seemed incapable of staying still under Tony’s stare. “Although there is a division of the Maria Stark Foundation that takes care of scholarship related things but that isn’t why I’m here.”

“Then, why are you here?” Peter asked and glanced around as if trying to physically find words in the air. “I mean, you’re here in my bedroom. This is insane.”

Tony chuckled. This was his son and he was perfect. Tony couldn’t believe it. For years and years he had thought about Peter and wondered how their first meeting would go. He had never imagined this -- or imagined him like this.

“Well, I suppose it is. It’s almost as insane as,” and he pulled out his phone and had the videos pop out into holograms, “well that is you isn’t it?” Tony glanced back at Peter and away from the video.

Peter’s eyes seemed to widen comically. “No,” he spluttered. “No, not those are -- you found those on youtube so they’re...clearly they’re altered like…”

It was cute the way he was flustered and still trying to deny everything even though he had to know that Tony wasn’t going to buy it. Then, he seemed to just give up on denying it just as Tony spotted the hatch on the ceiling and he had to just push it up for the makeshift suit to fall out and Peter dove for it, throwing it into his closet as if Tony hadn’t already gotten to see it. He looked flustered and unsure when he turned back to look at Tony.

“So,” Tony said, “you’re the spider-ling? Crime-fighting spider? You’re Spider-Boy?”

Peter seemed to deflate a little and Tony wanted to just take away the doubt and the worry that seemed to be clouding him despite how much fun he was having with this. A part of him hadn’t expected for Peter to try and hide it even from him.

“I’m -- I’m Spider-Man,” Peter finally said and lifted his gaze to meet Tony’s and yeah, this was definitely his son.

“Not in that onesie,” Tony said mostly because he couldn’t help himself and Peter looked a little offended.

“It’s not a onesie,” Peter muttered.

“Hmm, I guess not. And you didn’t think that maybe the superhero you’ve been pen-paling with for years now wouldn’t be the perfect person to tell? Peter, what gives?”

Peter let out a breath. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, “I wanted to tell you. I think I would have eventually. I just -- I guess I didn’t know how.” He moved away from the closet towards his desk and Tony just watched him for a moment as he moved some things around probably as a way to stall trying to explain.

“And your aunt out there, does she know?” Tony asked.

“No,” Peter said at once and snapped his head up to look at Tony, “and we’re not telling her. Do you know how much she would freak out? And then I would freak out and it just -- it wouldn’t go well”

Tony didn’t imagine that it would. May would probably do everything in her power to stop Peter from being Spider-Man and Tony thought that he probably should do the same except that he also knew that there would be no stopping Peter. There was also of course the fact that Tony needed Peter’s help. Tony hated it -- hated that he would need to involve him -- but it was necessary.

He walked towards Peter’s closet and reached over to grab the suit that Peter had thrown inside it and went for the web-shooters which were mostly held up with black duct tape. With a bit of fishing he got the bottle that contained fluid that had to create the webbing.

“Now this,” Tony said, “this is cool. I’ve never seen anything like it. At first I thought it might be organic. Except that I do recall some odd emails a few months back asking me about spider webs and if anyone I knew had managed to recreate something like it. It didn’t seem like a bad idea but I never got around to really working on it. Anyway, this is cool. The tensile strength is off the charts. So who manufactured this?”

“I did,” Peter admitted and there was a glint in eyes that told Tony that he was proud of having done it himself. Tony was proud too.

“So you can stick to walls and you’re using this to swing around like a spider and clearly you’re managing well despite these things,” Tony said and lifted the face mask portion of the suit, “can you even see in these?”

Peter snatched the suit away. “I can,” he said.

He looked smaller again, defensive, as if he were waiting for Tony to put him down or tell him to stop being Spider-Man. Peter was waiting for Tony to take on the role of the responsible adult, but Tony knew that it wasn’t his role to play at the moment.

“What happened? How is this possible?”

It had been worrying him. All the different possibilities to how Peter had ended up with powers as well as the possible side effects. He needed to know that Peter was alright.

“I think it was a spider. It bit me and the next thing I knew I was sticking to things and I was faster and stronger and I need those goggles because my focus is everywhere. My senses are dialled up to eleven. It’s worse when I’m in motion but even now I can hear things happening in other rooms and outside and I’m strong. I’ve had to be so careful--”

Peter looked relieved to get all that out and he looked at Tony as if Tony had all the answers in the world. Tony knew then that he was the only one that knew. Peter hadn’t told anyone. He had kept it all to himself and decided that he could deal with it and he reminded him so much of himself that Tony felt floored. This really was his kid. Yet despite the relief of having the secret out, Peter seemed unsure. He sat down on his bed, a little hunched over and Tony felt the overwhelming need to hug him. Tony had never been much of a hugger but with Peter -- even knowing him for all of ten minutes -- it made Tony different. Maybe paternal was the best way to describe it, but Tony just hadn’t expected it.

Tony walked over and Peter looked up at him confused. He was cute. He was a teenager and yet he was cute and Tony never expected to think that of anyone. And the funny part was that Tony had seen pictures of Peter for years and he had never stopped to think of Peter as cute. But seeing him in person and he was still so young, it was something else. Peter was throwing his entire world on its axis and Tony found that he didn’t mind in the least.

“Come on, move that leg,” Tony said and motioned for Peter to move. “I’m going to sit there.”

Peter moved at once.

Tony found it surreal to be sitting on his son’s bed. It almost felt like he was about to have a father and son talk, the kind that he had never once had with Howard. It made him nervous because what if he said the wrong thing? He supposed that being so unsure came with the territory. He just had to hope for the best.

“I don’t think anyone should go through any of this alone,” Tony said, “least of all someone as young as you are. You’re only what --” Tony paused to do the math “fourteen, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a slight frown and Tony saw his blunder. He shouldn’t have just known off of the top of his head how old Peter was. He couldn’t remember if they had ever discussed his age in their emails.

“The point is,” Tony said, “that you are very young and this is hard on anyone at any age but it must be harder on you now and it makes me wonder if you should even be doing this. Why are you doing this?”

It had been the burning question on his mind ever since he had figured out it was Peter behind the mask and he was hoping that Peter gave him an answer that wasn’t just superficial otherwise it was all ending here. Tony would find a way to make him stop even if he had to physically follow Peter everywhere to do so and there would be no taking Peter to help him out with Cap and the others.

Peter stared out in front of him for a long time and then he turned and faced Tony and he gulped. “Do you know I was there the night Uncle Ben died?”

“I did,” Tony said and Peter looked taken aback. “You do remember I paid for the funeral? I spoke to your aunt then and she mentioned it.”

Peter nodded slowly, thinking. “Are you this interested in all of your fans? Like -- do you follow up when you correspond with other fans?”

Tony chuckled. Really, it was surprising that Peter hadn’t questioned that earlier. “Kiddo, you’re a special case, alright,” he said. “Don’t ask me why -- not yet. It’s -- I will tell you about that one day. Anyway, go on.”

Peter looked unsure for a moment and then he sighed right before standing up. “When you can do the things I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen then -- then they happen because of you.”

He said it as if he didn’t know if he could say it in any other way because it would hurt to say anything different and anything less roundabout and Tony could read between the lines. Peter blamed himself for his uncle’s murder. He paced in front of Tony for a moment, pace uneven.  

“You can’t control everything,” Tony said.

Peter stopped and shook his head a few times before looking back to Tony. “No, I can’t. No one can. But if I do nothing that’s just as bad. Mr. Stark, I can’t stop being Spider-Man. It’s who I am. You said time and time again that quitting never worked for you. I don’t think I could do it either.”

Peter was definitely his son. Tony almost wanted to laugh because genetics really were something, weren’t they. Tony was aware that he had influenced Peter by being a public figure, but the way that Peter was couldn’t have come from just that. No, there was more there. Genetics played some role and of course he also had Mary to thank for that. Mary who Tony remembered as loving science because of all the good she could do with it. Tony hadn’t thought about her much over the years but he could see her in Peter and it was such a shame that Peter would never really know her.

“I’ve just -- I’ve been me my whole life and you’ve known me a bit so you know who I am, I think. I read books and I build computers and I’ve...well, I’d love to play football or soccer, but I couldn’t then so I shouldn’t now.” Peter said it while looking away.

“Sure,” Tony said, “and I guess I mostly thought you weren’t interested in athletic sport.”

“I’m not,” Peter said and he was back to looking at Tony, “but I couldn’t even consider it before and now I just shouldn’t even though I could and I can’t exactly tell anybody and--”

“Because you’re different now,” Tony said with a nod and watched him because Peter didn’t seem to know what to say.

“That,” Peter said, “but because these abilities can’t just be in my benefit, not when there’s a greater purpose and I can stop -- I can stop bad things from happening.”

He seemed to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, so unsure and conflicted and expecting Tony to just shut him down and make him stop. Tony couldn’t understand how someone so pure could have come from any part of him. “I don’t think I would be able to ask you to stop,” Tony said, “not when you’re putting it like that. And anyway, I came to ask for your help.”

“My help,” Peter said, frowning in confusion. “Um, how? I mean -- what?”

Peter dropped down onto the bed and Tony reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder and even to him it felt a little on the awkward side, but Peter didn’t seem to notice that.

Tony couldn’t help but grin a little. “Got a passport?”

Peter looked startled. “No, I don’t. I don’t even have a driver’s license,” he said.

Tony did know that. It was a little jarring to remember that Peter was still so young.

“You ever been to Germany?” Tony asked even though he already knew that Peter hadn’t. It was just fun to see how his eyes widened.

“No.”

“You’re going to love it,” Tony said and grinned at him again.

Peter started to shake his head. “I can’t go to Germany!”

“Why not?”

“I -- I got homework,” Peter said and he really was just so young and innocent and Tony loved him.

It was different to know that he loved Peter -- because Tony had known that for a long while now -- but it was a whole other thing to actually see him and meet him and be within touching distance that made that intensify. It made him want to protect and care and just love Peter without asking or wanting anything in return. It was different than anything else that Tony had ever felt for another person. He had never loved anyone like this -- entirely consumed and without an inch of doubt.

“Alright,” Tony said in order to keep his composure, “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that.”

Chapter Thirty Nine

[spade-anon]

The Coffee Shop AU

TITLE; The Coffee Shop AU

PAIRING; Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson

SUMMARY; Within the last two hours of a cafe’s working day, the schedule was simple; wipe the tables; sweep the floors or any other messes; and count the cash made. Occasionally customers would still come in but not so much as in the earlier hours however that didn't mean there were non. On this particular day Alexander would be working on the cash register.

AUTHORS NOTE; personally Jamilton isn't my exact jam(ilton) (I'm funny I swear,,) but this was for a friend so I hope its okay??

TAG LIST; unavailable (hmu if you want to be added?)

Within the last two hours of a cafés working day, the schedule was simple; wipe the tables; clean up any messes, sweep the floor; count the money made that day. Occasionally there'd still be customers coming in but no so much at the end of the day, but it was still a possibility. On this particular day, Alexander would be working at the cash register, usually when counting the money you'd wait till you've only a few minutes of work left so he peacefully watched his surroundings. His coworker (and not to forget, friend), John Laurens, sweeping the café floor as he hummed along to the song currently playing on the radio. Alexander couldn't quite pin point what the song was but knew it must be something fairly modern or in the charts, a girl by the name of Maria organised the cafés music, her taste was... decent. It wasn't exactly Alexander preference but he could stand it just enough to work. He much preferred Fallout Boy, of course in a more casual way rather than a 'middle school emo' way. His thoughts seemed to be pulled away by the click of the front door, a little bell sounding after it; Lafayette. Alexander didn't know much of the man except his relationship with John. Lafayette would usually come in near the end of Johns shift and drive him home, from what Alexander had observed in the past, the two seemed to be dating but he couldn't be sure. Sure, they'd call each other babe, but many people do that in a platonic way nowadays, right? Another coworker of Alexander's looked up at the door, that worker was Hercules Mulligan, he wasn't the best at his job but currently needed it till he saved up enough to buy his own tailoring store. He also seemed to have a weird relationship with Lafayette, Hercules would watch the man and seem more skittish or nervous around him. Maybe they knew each other.

"Hey Alex! Can you lock up tonight?" John says, causing Alexander to set his concentration on him once again. It seemed to be that whenever Lafayette came, John left, that caused most of his shifts to end early. The reason that Alexanders attention seemed to keep shifting was most likely caused by his lack of sleep, he couldn't help it, as well as having a part time job he also attended college! One may simply joke that he's writing at night like he's running out of time!!

It took him a few seconds to process Johns question, "oh, yeah.. yeah I can do that."

At those words, a wide smile spread across Johns face, his smiles were always like that, they were contagious too. It was almost impossible to see John smile and not smile yourself. He throws the café keys in Alexanders direction, Alexander almost tripping to catch them, he then looks towards Hercules,

"You can finish sweeping for me, right? I know Washington will go ballistic if it isn't done.." ah yes, George Washington. George Washington owned the café alongside his wife, Martha Washington, the two had started the café a few years after they'd married.

Hercules chuckles lightly, "uh-huh.." he mumbles, he seemed to look towards Lafayette rather than John before looking back down, it was hard to tell, the two were stood together after all. Quickly after that, the two left, John had changed out of his work clothes and exited with Lafayette, the two hand in hand. Perhaps they were a couple...

Another thirty minutes went by, those were slow but after those, another click of the door and a bell went off. A man had entered, one Alexander couldn't really recognise. He was fairly tall and wore a magenta jumper over some sort of button up shirt, it seemed white in the cafés lighting. Alexander sighs, the café would be closing in less than an hour, why would someone come now!

"Hi, welcome to the Washington Café, how may I help you?" The enthusiasm and cheerful nature in Alexanders voice was clearly faked.

The man didn't pay much attention, looking up to the menu, "uh, I'll have a vanilla bean latte with soy milk." He seemed to say that smoothly, almost too smoothly... that was way to casual for someone ordering coffee! Or whatever the fuck a latte is, honestly Alexander doesn't know and just wants to go home.

"And the size would be?"

This time, the man actually look at Alexander, something must've amused him, he seemed to be holding in a laugh, "sh-short," he says airly, almost letting out his laugh. Was that a comment on Alexanders height? Sure, he wasn't the tallest but he also wasn't a midget!

"By that would you mean extra small, or small?" Maybe a slight annoyance was clear but it was easily overlooked.

The man smirks, "nah, I'll have a medium," Alexander hums and grabs a medium and a pen, "Thomas, by the way."

Alexander would say, 'oh no, I don't need your name, I was just going to draw a dick because that's what you are, a megacock!" except he didn't say that, he merely mumbled out the price and gave Hercules the cup to make the drink. As he watched the man go to sit down, Alexander couldn't help he feel this 'Thomas' was familiar. He had known a Thomas in high school but he wasn't really on good terms with that Thomas.

Alexander had braces in high school, that caused a little bit of bullying, he also happened to be on a debate team. The person who he had debated the most? Thomas Jefferson. Oh, he remembered that boy, he remembered him very well. The two were pretty much enemies yet still... had a peculiar relationship. An art cupboard type of relationship, come to think of it, it was wrong. Alexander had a girlfriend at the time, a happy-go-lucky girl by the name of Elizabeth Schulyer, more often referred to as Eliza. However, Thomas and Alexander also had a strange relationship in the way that one would bully the other, make them a target.

By the time Hercules had finished the latte for 'Thomas', Alexander had also finished counting today's money. Of course he'd be giving the beverage to the costumer, Hercules had made a quick escape, claiming walking to a table was far too much work! At this, Alexander couldn't help but roll his eyes, after delivering said drink, he went to change out of his work attire, 'Thomas' seemed sensible enough to be left alone for a few minutes, besides Alexander wouldn't be able to leave until Thomas had so it's not like it really mattered.

Grabbing a bottle of water, he notices the man was still drinking his latte, Hercules had already left so that left Alexander with no choice but to make conversation with Thomas. Yes, he could've said quiet but that would just be tense.

He sits across the table from Thomas.

"So what's your deal anyway?" That could be phrased better.

"Excuse me?" Thomas raises a brow confused by the conversation starter used.

"I mean, I assume you're Thomas Jefferson, you treat me like shit in high school then you come here and act like it's nothing!"

At this, Thomas breathes through his nose, "people change, Hamilton, I'd assume you of all people would know that. Besides, it isn't like a planned on running into you." He scoffs, sipping his coffee, "maybe you need more lessons on how life works."

Struggling to undo the bottle cap of his water, Alexander bitterly shoots out a, "oh, believe me, I got enough of those last time we met.."

Yes, perhaps that did sound like some kind of innuendo, but please be assure that in no way did the two ever hook up. Perhaps they had kissed a few times, but that was an experiment, nothing more!

"Anyway, how's that boyfriend of yours doing, James was it?" Alexander knew James and Thomas had never dated but it was simply to easy to reference towards it happening to not do so! Thomas grunts, leaving Alexander answerless, there's a minute of quite before he revived a reply,

"And I suppose you and Eliza are still doing well?"

Well, it seems Thomas knew how to pull some triggers too, Alexander and Eliza had broken up in their senior year after he'd been caught cheating on her under the school bleachers. This whole situation was almost too perfect, the two weren't hating per say but simply exchanging banter and surprisingly nothing had gotten physical, was this the so-called 'coffee shop AU' twelve year old 'yaoi lovers' absolutely loved to reference?

"So.. um.. you got hot over he years I suppose? Got over your acne at least." Alexander awkwardly taps the side of his bottle, it was hard to have a conversation without him complimenting someone.

"I could say the same for you, finally got rid of your braces," heh, those were a pain, especially since when he had them he was dating Eliza who also, coincidentally, happened to have braces too. Making out was terrifying, they had heard stories of people getting their braces tangled and didn't want the same to happen to them.

"Hm, maybe we should hang out again sometime.. I don't remember us to be too close but we're... adults now..." Alexander had to be rational, try not to add 'i mean, you drink soy now!' onto the end of his sentence.

"Maybe we should," with that Thomas stood up, "I'd give you my number but that just seems to easy~" although Thomas was turned away from Alexander, Alexander was able to tell that he was smirking. With that, Thomas had swiftly thrown his empty cup in the bin and left leaving Alexander still sat within the café, a water bottle in one hand and a slightly surprised look on his face. He had watched Thomas walk down the road and round the corner before placing his head in his hands, "what the fuck was that, Alex!" He questions to himself, shaking his head slightly. He probably would've reacted differently but his shift had ended by now and all he had to do was lock up, maybe once he arrived home he'd look Thomas up on Facebook. Would that be a stretch? Did Thomas even have Facebook, gosh, he didn't know but one thing Alexander did know was that he would make sure this wasn't his last meeting with Thomas!

[hulklinging]

Pidge and Lance with 127 or Nico/Victor with 65?

127. “What are you listening to?” Pidge and Lance. Sleep issues and friendship. 1607 words.

“What are you listening to?”

It’s Lance, teasing already apparent in his voice. Like they’re back in the Garrison, and he’s gonna make fun of his weird little communications officer for believing in aliens.

Pidge thinks back, wonders if she could redo it if she’d laugh more and tease him back, or if she needed to be as closed off as she was, to get them to that roof, so they could watch Shiro fall.

Pidge thinks in code sometimes, how one missing semicolon can make everything grind to a halt. And fate isn’t really her thing, but there were so many things that could have gone wrong, so many places a semicolon could have gone missing, and then they wouldn’t be here, in space, fighting a war. She grits her teeth, because that kind of thinking is an exercise in uselessness, and because she didn’t pause the recordings she’s listening to when Lance walked in, and now she’s lost track of what’s happening.

“Some of the files we gathered from the last mission are audio files,” she says. “I’m going through them.”

“In the middle of the night? Are they really that important?” Lance flops down next to her on the couch. He’s got headphones on too, although they’re not connected to anything. His sleep mask is pushed up into his hair like they’re designer sunglasses, and he’s doing a very good job of faking that ‘I just woke up’ air, but there’s deep circles under his eyes, and Pidge knows him well enough at this point to know he hasn’t managed to get any sleep yet tonight.

She doesn’t sleep much, which is an ongoing joke among her old Garrison team but is also a fact. And especially not in her room, with its bare walls and its tendency to resemble her old room back at the Garrison, when she wakes up all of a sudden, sometime between lights out and what counts for morning in the Castle. That’s the worst, because for a second she thinks she’s back on Earth, no closer to her family or to anything than she was before, and it turns her stomach.

So most of her sleep nowadays is stolen in power naps, scattered across the castle like she’s playing some long game version of hide and seek. She knows all of their nighttime habits, watches Hunk get up too early, pretends she believes his excuses about just wanting to get a head start on breakfast. She watches Keith sneak out like he’s still back home, still trying to avoid the teachers that will throw him out eventually anyways, disappear into the training room for hours on end. Shiro wanders the halls like he’s sleepwalking, and sometimes he sits with her and they talk about little things, stretching their few points of pre-Voltron connection into nights’ worth of conversations. If they talk about the people they’re both missing at night, not meeting each other’s eyes, then their performances of being okay ring more true around the rest of them.

Allura plots, when she can’t sleep. She pulls out old star charts and makes notes, crossing out civilizations and strongholds that fell before humans had ever learned the word ‘empire.’ Pidge sits with her sometimes too, dozes off to the sound of the pen-like thing Allura uses to record 10 000 years of missing history gliding across the paper.

Coram checks and double-checks every system, when something keeps him up. It’s rare though, to see the older man out and about. He’s a soldier still, at heart, and he’s learned better than any of them to grab sleep when he can.

Lance is less predictable, and also the most frustrating, when it comes to late night company. He wants Pidge to engage, and Pidge always feels like he’s asking her for something but never knows what it is. And she cares for all of them, for this weird floating family of theirs, but she still hasn’t found the right words to express that just yet, so she’s left like this, scowl stretching her tired face as Lance taps almost-familiar beats into the couch cushions and stares at her.

“What do you want?” she snaps, and she doesn’t mean to, but she’s tired and she’s trying to do something, and he’s making it harder. Even when he’s not speaking (a rarity), his presence is enough to make paying attention to something else difficult.

Lance shrugs, which makes her scowl deepen.

“If you’re bored, you can go bother someone else.” She twists her whole body in on itself, like maybe if she can’t see him she won’t be distracting by all of his fidgeting. “I’m working.”

A pair of hands reach over and pluck her laptop from her lap.

She shrieks, and her hand flashes out and punches Lance in the shoulder. It’s a slower reaction than it should have been, and maybe it has been a couple of days before she’s gotten anything resembling a good sleep, but that’s not important right now. What’s important is that Lance is being an asshole.

“Give that back!”

Lance lets out a whine at the hit, but is now standing and holding the laptop over his head. She growls, and stands up only slightly unsteadily on the couch, practically climbing him to get her computer back.

“No, wait- ow! -Pidge, this is an intervention! Ow, not my fingers, I’m the sharpshooter I need those!”

“Should have thought of that before stealing my shit!”

Pidge gets her hands back on the laptop just as Lance loses his balance, and then the two of them tumble back down onto the couch in a mess of limbs and wires. Pidge makes sure to give him an elbow to the ribs as she’s detangling herself, and takes great pride in the muttered ‘quiznak!’ this earns her.

“You’re a terror.”

“Thanks,” she says, and goes to plug her headphones back in. 

“Wait, Pidge! I really did come here for a reason.”

She raises an eyebrow at him, trying to channel the disbelief that Shiro always emitted when one of them tried to pull something. It’s a work in progress, but once perfected she will be unstoppable.

“Yes?”

Lance grins, any pain from the last few minutes instantly forgotten. His sleepmask is hanging halfway off his head, and he looks ridiculous. Pidge loses her Shiro-stare to a giggle, and Lance, performer that he is, strikes a pose that turns the giggle into a full-out laugh.

“Okay, fine. What do you want?”

“You like heights, right?”

Damn her and her curiosity.

Shiro is headed towards the observation deck when he hears something strange.

He’s cutting through one of the big dark and empty rooms that must have been used as some sort of hall, back when the Castle was bustling with people. He knows his way, doesn’t bother turning the lights on. The unknown noise makes him tense, arm lighting up for the briefest of moments before his brain catches up to his anxieties and he recognizes it as a snore.

He looks around, confused. There’s nothing in this room, not that he can see. Then he looks up.

There are little balconies scattered around the walls of the room, and in the one closest to him, he can make out a mess of blankets and pillows. It takes him a moment to find the right door that will lead him up to the balcony, and he takes great care to tread lightly on the stairs, because regardless of who it is in this makeshift nest, Shiro’s sure they deserve the rest. 

He finds Lance and Pidge, their matching bedheads just barely sticking out of their pile of blankets. Pidge’s laptop is closed and tucked carefully away against the wall, which means either she fell asleep before Lance did or for the first time since they left Earth, Pidge let herself fall asleep on purpose. It’s her snoring he heard. He hadn’t known she snored, which makes him think that she usually never lets herself sleep this deeply. Under the snoring is the soft sound of waves, which makes sense. Lance can’t sleep in the quiet, and sure enough, his headphones are resting on a pillow near Pidge’s laptop, the recording they got at the last planet they’d stopped at with an ocean trickling through them.

“H'lo?” Lance murmurs, one eye cracked open and staring in Shiro’s general direction.

“Just me,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

Lance nods, and then rolls over, and pats the space next to him. Shiro suspects there might be some stripped rooms throughout the castle, for them to have this many blankets and pillows, but he doesn’t think Allura will mind. 

“Lots of room,” the boy says. He’s right, too. “No claustrophobia here.”

Then he turns onto his side and pulls at a corner of a blanket until he’s buried again, only leaving enough of his face uncovered that he won’t suffocate.

Shiro wonders what it was that gave it away to Lance, why he struggles with sleeping in his own room. Or maybe he just guessed, like how he guessed that Pidge’s fear comes from waking up alone.

It’s not a bad idea. Shiro had tried sleeping in some of the bigger rooms, but he felt too exposed. Here, tucked away like this but with so much open air, he might actually have a chance of sleeping for longer than a few hours.

“Not today, kiddo. But thanks.”

Lance smiles, and Shiro leaves as quietly as he came. He’ll let Hunk know that they might miss breakfast, and to set some aside for them. Sleep had been too scarce, of late. They deserved the rest.